Debra Ullrick - The Unexpected Bride

Why did she have to have eyes that penetrated the very depths of his soul, connecting with that spot he had purposely kept shut off for years?

He broke eye contact. He didn’t want her or anyone else invading that private place. Nor did he want her coming home with him.

Think, Haydon! Maybe he could buy her a one-way ticket home and set her up here in a Prosperity Mountain hotel until the next stagecoach.

He scanned the mining town. Several men stood in front of the saloon with their arms crossed and their legs spread, gawking at Miss Devonwood as if they hadn’t eaten in days and she were a fresh piece of meat.

His brother should be dealing with this. But with Jess injured, it was up to Haydon to do what he had to do to keep this woman safe.

No gentleman would do anything less. And if Haydon was anything, he prided himself in being a gentleman.

Most of the time anyway.

is an award-winning author who is happily married to her husband of thirty-six years. For more than twenty-five years, she and her husband and their only daughter lived and worked on cattle ranches in the Colorado Mountains. The last ranch Debra lived on, a famous movie star and her screenwriter husband purchased property there. She now lives in the flatlands where she’s dealing with cultural whiplash. Debra loves animals, classic cars, mudbog racing and monster trucks. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, drawing Western art, feeding wild birds, watching Jane Austen movies, COPS, or Castle.

Debra loves hearing from her readers. You can contact her through her website at www.DebraUllrick.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,

and whose hope is the Lord.

—Jeremiah 17:7

A ginormous thanks to my dear friends,

Staci Stallings, Dennis Bates, Michelle Sutton,

Rose McCauley and Jeanie Smith Cash.

Your endless hours and invaluable input has

taught me so much and helped make this book

so much better. To my wonderful agent

Tamela Hancock Murray and my fabulous editor

Emily Rodmell, thank you for believing in me.

To the friendly people in Moscow, Idaho,

who helped with my research, thank you so much.

And a humungous thanks to my husband, Rick.

Thank you for always being there for me.

You truly are my hero, and I love you very much.

Last, but definitely not least, to my Lord and Savior

Jesus, thank you. You rock!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Paradise Haven, Idaho Territory

1874

If Rainelle Devonwood’s mother knew what she was about to do, she would roll over in her grave.

Grave.

That one word ripped at Rainee’s heart, but she refused to cry in the presence of the strangers surrounding her. She lowered her head and pressed her fingers over her eyelids in hopes of holding back the flood of tears.

Oh, Mother, you would be astonished to know what I have done. But even you would understand why I did it. If only you and Father were still alive. Then I would still be at home, living without pain and suffering. But, Mother. I had to leave. I just had to.

In the small confines of the dusty stagecoach, only one thing gave Rainee a measure of peace about her drastic decision—her betrothed had assured her he loved the Lord. Otherwise she would have never gone through with her plans to marry a complete stranger.

The uncertainty of what was about to take place, and the constant cigar smoke from the gentleman sitting across from her, caused her stomach to become unwell. Rainee pressed her hand over her mouth and leaned her head out the window, silently praying the Lord would help her stomach’s contents to settle and help to divert her attention elsewhere.

Dust crowded into her nose. That is not quite what I had in mind, Lord. She covered her mouth and sneezed. Her eyes started watering from all the dirt particles, but with her stomach still threatening to purge itself, she decided to deal with the discomfort a few moments longer. She blinked away the particles of debris from her eyes as she studied her surroundings.

Rolling green meadows disappeared into the forest at the base of the mountains. Blue skies stretched before her. Several yards away, a rabbit leapt high in the air and landed in the tall bunchgrass. It did the same thing three times. And each time Rainee giggled at its silly antics.

When her stomach stopped churning, she settled back into her seat.

The stagecoach hit a rut, yanking her body sideways and slamming her shoulder into the lady next to her. “I am so sorry, ma’am.”

Sleepy eyes glanced at Rainee before sliding shut. How could the woman slumber through so much jostling? Rainee envied her.

Days and days of being jostled about, first on the train when she left Little Rock, Arkansas, and now even more so on the stagecoach heading to the Idaho Territory, were taking its toll on her overtaxed body. Rainee rolled her head from side to side, pressed her palm against her aching side, and shifted in the seat for the twentieth time in the past few minutes.

Horses’ pounding hooves, jingling tack and squeaking leather were the only sounds she had heard for miles upon miles until Daniel, the stagecoach assistant, leaned his blond head near the window. “Only a few more minutes, folks, before we arrive at our destination.”

A destination Rainee wanted to avoid but knew she could not because her very life and sanity depended on it.

Within minutes, she would soon meet her betrothed.

Her betrothed.

She still could not believe she was about to be married.

To a complete stranger.

But then again, if Haydon Bowen turned out to be even half as nice as his letters had made him sound, with the help of God’s grace and a passel of mercy, her life might not end up so dreadful after all. Anything had to be better than her current situation.

Or was it?

A horrid thought fluttered through her mind. What if the man she was about to wed was not the gentleman he had portrayed himself to be?

Merciful heavens, what had she done?

You ordered what?

Haydon Bowen’s own words rang through his brain like the continual clang of a church bell. How could Jesse, his own brother, do this to him, knowing he never wanted to marry again? Knowing marriage to his deceased wife had been a disaster. The hour-and-a-half ride from his family’s ranch in Paradise Haven to the stagecoach stop in Prosperity Mountain had done little to abate his frustration. Anger over Jesse’s latest outlandish scheme clung to him like trail dirt on a sweaty body.

After reining his draft horses to a stop, Haydon pressed his booted foot on the wagon brake. He sat stone still, dreading the task before him, wishing he could forget this whole thing and hightail it back to the ranch. But wishing wasn’t going to change a thing. He raised his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve.

Knowing he couldn’t put off the unpleasant mission any longer, he hopped down from the buckboard. As he went to wrap the reins around the brake handle he heard the stern sound of a woman’s voice coming from the direction of the stagecoach platform. “Unhand me this instant.”