Hannah - Mail Order Brides

Hannah Ross is desperate to escape her wretched hometown, a place suffocating with gossip and judgment. The whispers follow her everywhere, and the only way out is to leave it all behind—no matter the cost. Becoming a mail-order bride feels like her last chance at freedom, but there's one secret she can't risk revealing: she's pregnant. There's no way to explain the growing life inside her without unraveling her painful past. Determined to start over, she must bury her mistakes and push forward, even if it means resigning herself to a loveless future. But at what price?

Montana, 1877

Hannah Ross had finally hit rock bottom. There was only one way to go from here. Up. And she was determined not to let life drop her again.

She stepped off the stagecoach and took in her new surroundings. Stumptown appeared to be a friendly small town. Then again, looks could be deceiving. Hopefully, she’d left behind her ruined reputation in Colorado, never to see anyone from that area again. Her mother understood and gave her blessing.

“Here’s your trunk, ma’am.”

Hannah glanced at the stagecoach driver, who unloaded the passenger’s trunks. She moved to hers and grasped the handle, and then collected her satchel. Since she had traveled quite often over the past five years, she knew how to pack light.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she moved out of the street and to the boardwalk. From the conversations in the stagecoach as the four passengers neared the logging town, there weren’t many women who took up residence in Stumptown. If Hannah had known that, she might not have answered the newspaper ad for a mail-order bride.

Since she was sixteen years of age, men had been attracted to her. At first, Hannah had been innocent to their charm and lies, but it wasn’t until she had turned twenty-five before she learned a hard lesson. She placed her hand on her belly and frowned. She would soon have a child because she had believed that a man actually loved and wanted to take care of her.

Of course, it had all been a lie.

When she discovered she was pregnant, she confronted the man who had once professed his undying love for her. The next day, he skipped town. Two days later, rumors were already circling through the social-mills, and people were gossiping behind her back. Hannah couldn’t walk down the street without people throwing her glares. Some mothers even turned their children away from Hannah when she greeted them with a smile.

Hannah blinked back the tears. She wasn’t a terrible person, so why did everyone judge her so harshly?

That’s when she decided to get out of Colorado. Being a mail-order bride was the only way she knew how to survive. However, she needed to consummate the marriage quickly in order for her soon-to-be husband to think the child was his.

Hannah glanced up and down the street, and at the handful of lumberjacks who had come into town. So far, she only saw one woman, and the lady looked old enough to be Hannah’s grandmother.

Perhaps she should not have answered the first newspaper ad she read. Or, she should have asked around about the odd little place of Stumptown, before agreeing to this mail-order marriage. Being in close spaces with so many men made her nervous.

She sighed impatiently and looked up the street again. Perhaps her groom wasn’t going to meet her, after all. Hannah might have to ask around to see who knew Mr. Easton. She’d come this far, and she was determined to find a husband today.

“Pardon me, miss.”

She turned and rested her gaze on the middle-aged man behind her. He squinted through his spectacles at her as if not seeing her very well. The man was overly plump and didn’t have a lot of hair on the top of his head. Instead, the hair covered the sides and hung low, nearly to his shoulders.

“Yes?” she replied.

“Are you lost?”

She nearly spit out a laugh. Thankfully, she was in control and held it in. “Actually, sir, I’m not lost, but I am looking for someone.”

“Eh?” He leaned closer, turning his left ear toward her.
Apparently, this man had both sight and hearing problems. “I’m looking for Mr. Easton.”

“Which one? There are three Easton brothers.”

Oh, dear. Three brothers? “Um, I’m not sure.”

“The brothers are Maverick, Bryan, and Joel.”

She tried to remember if during her brief correspondence via telegram with Mr. Easton if he had ever used his first name. Sadly, she couldn’t recall. But none of those names were familiar.

“She’s with me, Cooper.”

When another man came up behind her from out of nowhere, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Why couldn’t men just greet her naturally? Did it make them feel powerful to scare her?

The rugged cowboy grinned as he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. His hat rode low on his forehead, shadowing his eyes. The whiskers on his face appeared that he and razors were not very good friends. However, it was the stench of alcohol that made her blood turn cold with fear. She knew firsthand how drunkards acted around her, and she wanted to get far away from this one.

“Please, sir,” she said in a steady voice that didn’t match her quaky nerves, “leave me alone.” When he didn’t do as she asked, she turned her pleading gaze to the older man. “Please, help me?”

The cowboy laughed. “Cooper ain’t gonna help anyone. He can’t even help himself.”

The older man frowned, and his gaze dropped to the ground, obviously bothered by the cowboy’s rude comment. She shot a glare at the drunk. “You will release me, sir, or I will scream for someone else to assist me.”

“Come now, my beauty. Ya know we were meant to be t’gether.”

Disgust twisted her stomach. “I’m waiting for—”

“Take your hands off her. Now!”

She hadn’t realized another man was standing by her until she heard his strong voice. The man with broad shoulders, who appeared to be around her age – give or take a few years – threw the drunkard a glare. When the cowboy looked at the other man, his body stiffened, but he slowly dropped his arms from around her.

Inwardly, she groaned. She didn’t want to cause any trouble. Then again, the last few years of her life have been nothing but problems.

“No need gettin’ upset, Mav,” the cowboy said, “I was just teasin’ her.”

The look on Mav’s face clearly let her know that he wouldn’t tolerate the cowboy’s playfulness. Although Mav was younger than the cowboy by a few years, his tall length and strength were evident. Hannah was certain many men feared him.

He grasped the cowboy's arm, pulling him away from her. “Fred, go home and sleep it off before I summon the sheriff.”

“Yes, sir.” The cowboy stumbled away, tossing a few scowls at the man with broad shoulders.

Mav ran his gaze up and down Hannah’s attire. She’d worn one of her nicer traveling suits, one that she had specifically made for her trip to see her mother in Ft. Collins. Her mother worked for the wealthy Colorado rancher, Wayne Lindon. At the time, she’d worn the outfit to impress Wayne. Now, because of the dusty journey, she felt like a dust rag.

When the tall man’s gaze finally met hers, he nodded. “Can I assume you are Hannah Ross?”

Her heart lifted in relief. “Indeed, I am. And are you Mr. Easton?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’m Maverick. Forgive me for being late.”

She tried to smile through her jittery nerves. She hadn’t expected Mr. Easton to be such a handsome man. His sandy-brown hair was shorter than most of the men she’d seen so far on this trip, but it made him appear more educated and refined. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen – like gazing into a beautiful summer sky on a clear day. She couldn’t help wonder why a man like this would want to find a mail-order bride. Then again, her mother’s boss, handsome Wayne Lindon, had done that very thing, too.

“I don’t believe you are late,” she told him. “I think the stagecoach was just early.”

Maverick gave her half a smile. At least that was better than the scowl he’d given the drunkard. The one he threw at the cowboy was fierce. How many men cowered to Mr. Easton’s command when he looked their way? Hopefully, she wasn’t marrying a man who easily lost his temper.

“Is this your trunk?” He pointed to the luggage beside her.

“Yes. Just one trunk and my satchel.”

He lifted her trunk with ease, setting it on his shoulder as he headed away from the boardwalk. She nodded to the older man with the spectacles who continued to watch her and Mr. Easton with a dropped jaw, and hurried after her soon-to-be husband. He stopped at a wagon that was the cleanest one she’d seen in a long time, and placed the trunk in the back. She handed the satchel to him, and he placed it next to the trunk.

As he assisted her up to the seat of the wagon, she realized how big his hands were – and calloused. At least that meant he was a hard worker. That bit of information was good to know.

Maverick climbed in next to her before taking the reins and urging the two-horse team forward.

Every few seconds, he glanced her way before returning his attention back to the road. Uncomfortable, she shifted on the seat, wringing her hands in her lap. Should she start the conversation? If so, what could she possibly talk about with a stranger?