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“Wonderful.” Reese stepped into the room and placed a light kiss on her nose. “Take your time. The train will back our car onto a side track before they uncouple. The kettle is boiling on the stove. Joy and I are going to watch the horses unload while we wait for Uncle Charlie, Sam, and a couple of hands from the ranch. They’ll be here soon,” Reese told her, running a finger down her chin and neck to the enticing opening of his robe.

Faith moved closer, craving his warmth, his touch. “How did they know we’d be here?”

“I sent them a telegram from Chicago to tell them when to expect us.” Reese leaned down and captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. “Now, I wish I hadn’t.” He nibbled at her mouth. “Good morning, Miss Collins.” He stopped and thought about what he’d said. “Wait. Now that we’re in Cheyenne, you’re Mrs. Jordan.”

“Just like that?” Faith stared at him. “We’ve been married for days, but you’ve only mentioned it once. At the negotiations. Never before.”

“As far as my family and the people of Cheyenne are concerned, we were married in Richmond.”

“We were married in Richmond,” she protested. “At least I was. You weren’t there.”

“Does it matter?” He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her face away. “It was legal.”

“Reese?” Faith began.

“Look, how hard can it be?” Reese asked. “You pretended to be a widow without any qualms. You shouldn’t have any problems playing the part of a loving wife.” He caressed her shoulder in a manner meant to reassure her. “If last night was any indication, you’ll do fine.”

Faith shrugged away from his gentle touch. “Meaning I passed your test?” she asked coldly. “You must think I’m a wonderful actress.”

“I didn’t say that,” he hedged.

“It’s what you meant,” she accused.

Reese shook his head and turned back to the door. “Dammit, Faith, I’m not going to fight with you about this. Get dressed. I’ll be waiting on the platform.” The door rattled in its frame for several seconds after Reese stalked out.

Faith leaned against the edge of the tub. Tears stung her eyelids. She had started a fight. She’d ruined the lovely morning. Why? Just because he wanted her to pretend to be a happy bride for his family? No, she dabbed, at the tears. She wasn’t crying because he wanted her to pretend. She was crying because she didn’t have to pretend. She was his loving wife. But to Reese she was simply a means to an end. A mere legal technicality to protect his child from bastardy.

She dried her eyes, washed her face, and began to dress. Mechanically, without thinking.

Eighteen minutes later, she exited the private car and stepped onto the platform. From there she was able to get her first glimpse of the town. She was not impressed.

Cheyenne was a collection of false-fronted wooden buildings, many of them partially built in Chicago and then shipped to Wyoming by rail. The streets were dirt. Wooden sidewalks fronted some businesses, while others opened onto the street. The new town boasted a business district, three churches, and a two-room schoolhouse, along with other less respectable establishments. It also boasted of a population of around six thousand.

It was new, rowdy, raw, and bustling with energy. The saloons, brothels, and gaming houses operated twenty-four hours a day and the sound of gunfire could be heard at all hours. Richmond, even in the days before the occupation, had more law and order. But there was something about Cheyenne that drew Faith, and that something was Reese.

This town was Reese’s home.

“Faith!”

Faith turned around. Joy was running toward her followed closely by Reese and two men dressed in faded denim pants and gingham shirts.

“We were watching the horses, Faith.” Joy flung herself against Faith, hugging her around the waist. “Weese says I can have a pony. I get to pick him out. We’re going to take him to the wanch with us. Uncle Charlie said he’ll teach me to ride him.” Joy’s words were coming at a breathless rate. It was all Faith could do to make sense of them.

“What’s this about a pony?” Faith stooped down until she was eye level with Joy.

“Weese said I could have one. Please, Faith?”

Faith looked to Reese for confirmation.

He nodded. “Faith, it won’t hurt her to know how to ride.”

“Why can’t she learn to ride on an old mare? Why buy her a pony?”

“I’d rather her tumble off a Shetland pony, than a fully grown horse. Besides, she’ll learn responsibility by helping take care of a pony of her own,” Reese explained.

Faith thought for a minute. “All right, but I think you’re spoiling her dreadfully.”

Joy squealed with excitement, slipped out of Faith’s reach, and ran to Reese.


Tags: Rebecca Hagan Lee Borrowed Brides Historical