The Bounty Hunter's Bride

by Victoria Bylin

• ISBN13: 9780373827886
• ISBN10: 0373827881
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2008-05-13
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

The long journey across the West ended in sorrow for one hopeful mail-order bride. Dani Baxter stepped off the train in Colorado, only to learn that her intended had died suddenly, leaving three young daughters behind. And suddenly she knew why God had sent her here--to make this family whole again.But her late fiance's brother, Beau Morgan, a bounty hunter obsessed with vengeance, believed that was his duty. He proposed they marry--in name only-- for the children's sake. But as she came to know him, she realized she wanted more, much more. And she wondered if even this lost man could somehow find peace in a woman's loving arms.

Excerpts

Castle Rock, ColoradoJune 1882"You know the story of Cain and Abel?""I do.""Patrick was Abel. I'm Cain."Daniela Baxter gaped at the man in the doorway. Un-shaven and bleary eyed, he looked enough like Patrick to be his brother. Except Patrick would never have answered the door in dirty trousers and a wrinkled shirt.Patrick and she were engaged to be married. Tomorrow. At the church she'd spotted outside of town. When he'd failed to meet her at the train depot, Dani had hired a buggy and driven the five miles to his dairy farm. She'd expected her fianceacute; to greet her with a smile and an apology for missing her train. Instead, a stranger had answered the door. She'd asked for Patrick by name and been assaulted by his sneering question about Cain and Abel.Her insides knotted. "I don't understand.""Patrick's dead."Dani blinked. "I must be at the wrong house."The road had forked a mile west of town. She'd guessed and taken the straighter of the two trails.The man with Patrick's eyes studied her more closely. "Who are you?""Daniela Baxter. I'm his fianceacute;e."She and Patrick had been introduced through letters by Kirstin Janss, his cousin and Dani's best friend. They had corresponded for six months. He'd written often about the town of Castle Rock, his growing dairy business and his three young daughters.The man's gaze stayed hard, but his voice softened like hot caramel, sweet but still sticky. "I'm sorry, miss. Patrick died five days ago."Gasping, Dani clutched her reticule. It held her only picture of the man she loved, the one he'd taken just for her. He'd combed his thick hair with pomade and dressed in his Sunday best, a black suit with a crisp shirt. She knew his dreams. He knew hers. She loved him. She loved his daughters and yearned to be a mother, both to his girls and the babies to come.The porch started to spin. Dani grabbed the rocking chair for support, but it tipped, throwing her to her knees. As she hit the threshold, pain shot through the marrow of her bones.A strong hand gripped her elbow and hauled her to her feet. "Don't faint on me, lady.""I won't."As tears filled her eyes, he dragged her to a chair in the front room where she collapsed on the cushioned seat, taking in the horsehair divan and a scattering of flower petals. She smelled lilies and realized a coffin had sat in this room. Patrick...her love. An anguished cry exploded in her throat.The man shouted into the kitchen. "Emma! Get some water."Dani pushed to her feet. She'd come to be a mother to the girls, not a burden. "I'll be fine."The man glared at her. "You don't look fine.""Who are you?" she demanded.Before he could answer, Patrick's oldest daughter came into the room with the glass of water. Judging by the tight pull of Emma's brows, she disliked this man. "Here," she said, shoving the glass in his direction.He put his hands on his hips. "It's not for me." He indicated Dani with his chin.The instant the child turned, her oval face brightened with hope. "Dani?""Yes, sweetie. It's me." Dani crossed the gap between herself and the child and offered a hug.Emma clung to her like moss on a tree. Long letters had made them friends over a span of months. Grief made them family in an instant. Water from the tipped glass sloshed down the back of Dani's dress, but she didn't care. Holding Emma brought Patrick to life. He'd written proudly of his girls. Emma, Ellie and little Esther, who'd been born on Easter Sunday. We'll have more, Dani. I want a son. She'd written back about Edward, Ethan and Elijah. He'd countered with Earl and Ebenezer. Laughing to herself, she'd cried uncle in the next letter.Dani released her grip on Emma, took the glass and set it on the table. "Where are your sisters?""Upstairs," Emma said. "Esther's taking a nap."Emma, barely ten years old, had the tired eyes of a young mother. Who would take care of the girls now? Not