Page 6 of A Bride for Brodie

Using just one finger, he turned her head back until she was looking at him. “You’ll be my wife, and I have no intention of hurting you. I know you got your prison sentence shortened by marrying me, but that doesn’t mean that I will abuse you. You don’t know me, but I’m not that kind of person. I’m the youngest of five brothers. I like to read and I’m the one responsible for coordinating the branding season. It’s usually only one or two days, but they call it a season and the cowboys working for us double for about a week.”

She tingled a little with his finger on her chin. “It’s nice to know that you won’t hurt me. I like to read, too, so we have that in common. I’m not familiar with branding season or anything else about working on a ranch, since I’ve never done it before, but I’ll learn quickly, I promise.”

“Which carpetbag is yours?” He pointed toward the pile of bags on the street.

“The blue one with the red roses on it.” She jutted her chin toward the bags.

He hovered his hand over the one he thought was hers, then turned his head to look at her. “This one?”

Lottie nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Brodie picked it up with his left hand and held out his right arm to her.

He seemed to have a bit of pain when he bent over, since his hand went to and held his middle as he moved slowly. Lottie wondered what caused that. As a matter of fact, he seemed a bit preoccupied and yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was something she’d done or said.

Lottie stepped down and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “We shall.” She nodded slightly to him as she took his arm.

He walked her back to his horses; a pretty bay stallion was the animal he’d ridden on into town. The mare he brought for her was a sorrel. Most people wouldn’t know the difference, but Lottie knew. They were both horses which had reddish-brown coats, but the bay had a black mane and tail whereas the sorrel’s mane and tail were the same as it’s coat or in this case a golden color. Both horses were beautiful and well taken care of.

“I wasn’t sure if you were a rider, so Bluebell is only a little spirited. She’ll keep up with Dusty though, never fear.” He tied the carpet bag behind his saddle.

She reached up and patted Bluebell, and then hugged her neck. “I used to take care of the horses in prison. We all did, and we were riders before that. You’ll find that none of us are shy around horses.”

“Will you need help to mount?”

“I don’t think so, but you’ll have to shorten the stirrups once I’m up. They look like they are adjusted for you.”

He chuckled and ducked his head a little. “Actually, they are. But I didn’t know how tall you were, so I waited. Let me help you up this time.”

She nodded and set her left foot into the stirrup.

Brodie lifted her into the saddle.

She couldn’t believe his strength. He lifted her as if she was a small child.

He adjusted the length of the stirrups. “How’s that?”

Lottie lifted her legs from behind the stirrups and set her left foot into the stirrup. “That’s good.”

“Okay.” He did the right side the same, then mounted Dusty and they started forward.

People stopped in the street and on the boardwalk to watch their caravan go past. Lottie thought she would have been one of them if she hadn’t been part of the group being watched. She hoped they wouldn’t be recognized but figured that was too much to hope for. Not just the women, but the men in their group faced forward, backs straight and stiff in the saddle. She followed suit and didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She wondered if they were ashamed to be marrying bank robbers.

Brodie seemed a little nervous and distracted since they’d met.Is it me? Have I done something off-putting?

Once all the couples were ready, Ross led them toward the white church building with dark blue shutters. The church was only about five blocks from the hotel and she remembered it from before. When she left for prison, the congregation had just collected enough money for the bell in the steeple.

Neither she nor Maisie were church goers. First, they’d lived too far away to come every Sunday, though when their mother was alive, they had come about once a month.

After she died, Seamus didn’t leave the cabin for months. Lottie and Maisie did the shopping, the hunting, the fishing, whatever needed doing, they did it. Then Seamus sold Maisie. Her husband, Donald Kunkle, was not a churchgoer, just as Seamus wasn’t either. So they never went.

When they reached the church, Ross held the door open for them and then followed them into the building. Inside the sanctuary, Ross took off his hat.

The other brothers followed suit, setting them on the pew behind them.

The sanctuary itself was fairly cool, and it felt wonderful. The windows on both sides of the building were open and a pleasant breeze came through them.

Lottie would have been perfectly happy to stay in the church for some time, while her overheated body cooled off.