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Day, Xondra - Menage on the Prairie (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)
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Menage on the Prairie
Socialite Kate Summers is eager to rid herself of the past, but when she replies to Joe Ryder's ad for a mail-order bride, she gets much more than she could have ever bargained for.
Joe Ryder is a man to be reckoned with. When scandal threatens to ruin the quiet life he has shared with his friend and lover, Ryan Starke, he devises a plan to make the townsfolk stop their idle tongues.
A mail-order bride is sought and soon found in Kate.
Unfortunately, Ryan isn't too accepting of Kate. Her very presence threatens the only life he has ever known, along with his love for Joe. After Kate finds out the real reason she was asked to come to marry Joe, she feels betrayed.
Can the three come to an agreement that will benefit all?
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 25,380 words
MENAGE ON THE PRAIRIE
Xondra Day
MENAGE AND MORE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage and More
MENAGE ON THE PRAIRIE
Copyright © 2011 by Xondra Day
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-359-X
First E-book Publication: June 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Menage on the Prairie by Xondra Day from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Xondra Day’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Day’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
For the one constant support in my life, my one true love. This one’s for you. Love you forever and always.
MENAGE ON THE PRAIRIE
XONDRA DAY
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
The Midwest, 1896
If the driver went over one more bump, she’d scream.
Kate Summers looked to her left and then to the right.
From each side of the stagecoach she saw nothing. That is, nothing worth commenting on other then endless expanses of prairie land. Oh, and dust. So much dust that it permeated inside the coach, settling into every pore on her skin. As soon as she reached her destination, she’d demand a bath.
Forty-eight hours had passed since she’d begun her journey to a new place and life. To state she was worn out was an understatement, and as she closed her eyes, she wished for it to end.
The man to her left, an older gentleman, flashed her a goofy, toothless smile.
She smiled back. It would have been impolite to do anything but. And, as taught by her mother, she was always cordial, allowing her good manners and breeding to show forth.
“And where are you off to, if I may be so bold to ask?” Once again, he flashed her that same smile.
“Cotton Plains. It shouldn’t be that far-off now, if I have my calculations completed correctly.” She fiddled with the cuff on her blouse, noting that dust had tinged the fine white muslin.
“Cotton Plains,” he replied, raising his voice just an octave. “Why in the devil would a lady such as yourself want to go there? There ain’t nothing there except a bunch of ruffians.”
“Indeed.” She was curt in her response. Why couldn’t this man mind his own business? “If you must know, I have family there. They run a farm just outside of town.” It was a lie to be sure, and a big one at that. But she could not and would not tell a perfect stranger the real reason for her trip. It simply wasn’t any of his concern. “They needed me, and, well… I simply cannot go into any more detail.” She withdrew a lace kerchief from her bag and brought it to her mouth. The gesture added a nice dramatic touch that told the man indirectly to stop with the questions.
“I shall ask no more,” he said. “I respect that. I respect everything for which family stands for.” The man nodded his head up and down to emphasize his point. “Yes, sir, there is nothing better or more important than family.”
Normally, Kate would have been inclined to agree with that sentiment, but the circumstances during the last month had changed her way of thinking forever. And there was no going back to her old life.
Lost in her own thoughts, she turned to look out the window. It all came flooding back
* * * *
“I cannot believe that you would do such a thing,” snapped her father. “And a married man? Good Lord, what were you thinking, Kate?”
She could not look him in the eye. Of course he was right, he was always right. Never could she remember a time when he had been wrong.
“If your poor mother was alive, well, she’d be scandalized by this lack of better judgment you have had.”
She watched as he paced the floor of the library, his hands placed firmly in his trouser pockets.
“I never meant for it to go so far. Darcy had promised to leave Celeste. Had I known it would turn out this way, I would have never—”
“Had an affair?” he snapped, cutting her off midsentence. “Kate, you know I love you. You’re my only daughter, and I’d give you the world. I feel I have done right by you, but I cannot condone this type of behavior. I have to think of the family as a whole.”
She nodded. “I understand. I never meant to hurt or embarrass you. And I�
��ve done both.”
Her mother had passed away five years previous, and her father’s mention of her brought forth tears.
What had she been thinking when she accepted the advances put forth by Darcy Forrest?
Now, Darcy was out of the picture. Once she found out, Celeste, his wife, had threatened to divorce him and take the kids across the country. The last time they had spoken, he’d said he couldn’t see her anymore. It was over. The truth had come out, and he hoped to redeem himself in the eyes of everyone by ending it. So, here she was, alone and now marked with a scarlet letter.
“You have,” replied her father. “I honestly don’t know what else to say. What’s done is done, and there isn’t any turning back. We will have to deal with it.”
He’d left her then, slamming the library door behind him.
The days came and went and it was evident that people were not willing to forgive or forget easily.
The party invitations stopped. Her friendships dried up, and whenever she appeared in public, she felt like she was being watched. And then there were the whispers. There simply was no escaping her sordid past.
One day, three weeks after her initial confrontation with her father, Kate found herself in the front parlor, thumbing through The Ridlington Times, the city’s main newspaper. She flipped through the obituaries first and then went to the back of the paper, taking in the various advertisements.
She scanned an ad citing the latest in gramophones, while the one next to it promised to sell a washing powder that would get your whites to shine their best. But it was the one located under it that caught not only her eye, but also her interest.
LONELY bachelor, twenty-eight, seeks wife. Am willing to pay all expenses incurred with relocation. Must be able to cook and clean. If interested, please send a letter to the address below.
What sort of man would advertise for a wife, and why would he have to? She couldn’t imagine any man being that desperate. Yet, after reading the short ad three times, it intrigued her to know who exactly was behind it.
She’d heard of mail-order brides before, and while it seemed romantic in a strange way, she couldn’t imagine running off to marry some man she had never met. She ripped the ad from the paper and tucked it into her bodice. Why she did this, she didn’t know. It felt like the right thing to do for the moment.
The next day, her father suggested she take an extended vacation to her cousin, Amelia. There was zero doubt in her mind that it was an order rather than a mere suggestion. His tone of voice told all.
“Amelia is a good girl. Perhaps some of that will rub forth onto you,” he scoffed, his barb sinking deep into her heart.
That night, she pulled the now-wrinkled ad from the top drawer in her bureau where she’d hidden it deep within her under things. A letter of introduction was soon drafted, and early in the morning she saw that it was posted.
And the rest, as they say, became history.
* * * *
Now, here she was on her way to nowhere, to marry a man who she had only met through one hastily written letter.
“Cotton Plains up ahead,” bellowed the driver, his deep booming voice startling her.
Kate, still clutching the kerchief clasped to her chest, felt her pulse quicken, and a lump form in her throat. This was it, she was finally here, and soon she’d meet Joe, the man she had come for the sole purpose of becoming his bride.
The stagecoach halted to a jerky stop, and when assisted outside by the driver, she heaved a sigh of relief to be free from the dusty, confined space.
“Your bags,” said the driver, who had already climbed to the top of the stagecoach and back down again.
Kate looked around at her new surroundings. “This is it?” she asked. It was merely one street, shaded on each side by a row of ramshackle buildings.
He chuckled. “This is it. Were you expecting more?”
“Well, I guess so,” she rambled, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Thank you sir, for your assistance.”
“The nearest boarding house is Miss Vickie’s down at the end of the street. You can’t miss it, it being the only building privy to whitewashing. She’s a good woman and will see to you.”
“No, sir, I shan’t be in need of a boarding house. My fiancé is meeting me. In fact, he should be here.” She stopped and looked to and fro, but there was no one. “I thank you all the same for the helpful suggestion.”
“Anytime,” he replied with a nod.
Kate stood in the middle of the dusty street, watching the stagecoach drive off. She was a stranger in an even stranger land. And where were all the people? This place was an utter ghost town.
A gust of wind flew by, almost removing the hat from her head. “Goodness gracious,” she muttered. “If a man states he’s going to meet you, he should at least hold up to his promise.”
“Yes, he should. I totally agree with you,” replied a deep voice, flowing from behind her.
Her heart just about stopped. She turned slowly to see a man ’round about her own age standing there, a wide grin spread across a devastatingly handsome, rugged face.
“Sir, you should have made yourself known to me.”
“I thought I did.” He was being coy. Could this be him? The man she had traveled so far to marry?
“Just who are you?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes into slits, giving him the once-over.
“I’m the man you came here to marry, I presume, if you are Miss Summers.” He flashed another grin. “And from the looks of you, I’ve done mighty well if I do say so myself. I could not have found a finer filly if I had picked one out myself.”
Kate raised one brow. “You compare me to a horse? Surely you jest?”
“It’s a compliment.” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t become a woman to be so serious. I’ll load your bags onto the wagon, and we’ll be off.”
Behind him, in the near distance, she spotted a horse and wagon. It was all so primitive, she wondered what she had gotten herself into.
He walked ahead of her, carrying her bags in both hands. She scurried behind him, making a vain attempt to keep her skirt tail out of the street’s dust. “You might at least slow down and let me walk with you,” she called after him. “And you have yet to properly introduce yourself.”
She caught up to him at the wagon and stood there with hands now on hips, waiting for a reply.
“You know my name,” he replied, placing her bags in the back of the wagon. “And I know yours. I figured that’s enough of a proper introduction.” And once again there was that smile.
“You’re toying with me, Joe.” There, she had used his name.
“See, you just proved my point, Kate. Now, up you go, nice and easy.”
His brute strength surprised the heck out of her. Up and over in one swift motion. She found herself sitting in the wagon, watching as he took his place next to her, reins in hand.
Kate smoothed her skirt out, sitting up straight. “So, this is Cotton Plains. It isn’t much, is it?” From this vantage point she could read some of the signs on the buildings. “Oh, how dandy. You have a store. I’ll have to go there sometime to shop.”
Joe laughed and shook his head. “For some reason I think everything they carry will be a little simple for your tastes. They carry foodstuffs, basic yard goods and such. There ain’t nothing fancy in there.”
“Did I say I wanted fancy? I will have you know that plain and simple suits me fine. And don’t presume things about me that you cannot possibly know.”
“I’m sorry. Please accept my sincerest apologies. You’re right, I barely know anything about you, and I should not have made assumptions about your character.”
“Let’s just carry on. I’m tired and plain worn out from my trip. I need rest, and coffee might be nice, along with a change of clothes.” She spoke the truth. Every joint and muscle in her body ached from the rough ride on the stagecoach.
Together, side by side, they rode out of town.
* *
* *
Joe Ryder held back the urge to burst wide open with laughter as he glanced at Kate sitting there, looking just like a bird, all stiff-like.
If there was one thing he had already determined in his mind during their brief time together, it was that he had his work cut out for him with the likes of her.
When he spotted her standing there on the street alone, he knew she had to be the one. She looked just as she had described herself in her brief letter to him, corn-silk hair and all.
“When we get back to the homestead, you can rest. I do hope you will find everything suited to your taste. You might find it all a bit primitive. And I’ve made arrangements with Preacher Dan to see us married just as soon as it suits you.”
He listened as she coughed, raising one hand to cover her mouth. “Yes, marriage. Of course. The sooner the better. I’m sure the homestead will meet my every expectation.” Did he detect just a hint of sarcasm tingeing her voice?
“It’s small, but come next spring I’m hoping to build a bigger house. I have it all marked out where I intend to build. Ryan has promised to help with it.”
“Ryan?”
He’d neglected to tell her about Ryan.
“Ryan is the hired hand that I employ to help work the land. I also consider him a good friend.”
“This Ryan—he lives nearby?” she asked.
“He lives with me. But I guess that will have to change. People won’t see it being proper and all, you living with two men and one of which isn’t any relation to you,” he explained.