A Bargain Bride (Brides of Liberty, Texas) Read online

  A Bargain Bride

  Rebecca De Medeiros

  Copy Right © 2013 by Rebecca Demedeiros

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading or electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the Authors intellectual property.

  In memory of -Debra Mullaney -Mother, Friend, confidante.

  I miss you with every heartbeat, every day. I'm sorry that you never lived to see this book finished. It was because of you, that I found the courage and faith in myself to follow through. I will always love you Mama.

  “Need, teaches a

  plan”

  - An Irish proverb-

  CHAPTER ONE

  Texas

  Feb, 17, 1873

  “It’s time you got yourself a woman, boy!” A raspy voice from inside the musty barn, urged the younger man.

  “Now Pops don’t start. I think I can figure out when I want a piece of …”

  “Son, I meant a wife!” Gabriel O’Malley was cut off by the loveable old coot that had helped raise him.

  Fergus O’Malley was normally a jolly sort. He was not one to lose his temper except on rarest of occasions. Today with Fergus’s present mood, told Gabe this was such an occasion.

  “Get married lad and raise your little brothers. The right way.” Fergus paced back and forth excitedly within the confines of the faded walls.

  If one was to describe Mathew and Michael O’Malley, “little” wouldn’t be in the description. Mathew at fifteen was already nearly six feet tall without any signs of stopping his growth spurt. At least, not if you consider the way he ate. Michael was the youngest at thirteen, and already he looked less like a boy and more like a man. All three had Jacob O’Malley’s trademark black hair and light blue eyes. The kind of eyes, that got them all both in and out of trouble.

  “Thirty is too old, not to be thinking of wives and babes! Why, your own papa by the time he was your age, was on his second wife.” Pops stressed.

  That was true enough. Gabe’s mother Anne had died trying to birth a daughter, when he was only four. Neither soul had made it to the following morning. Jacob, Gabe’s father had met and married his second wife Lydia when his young son was seven. She had become Gabriel’s mother from that moment on.

  Lydia Taylor O’Malley was the gentlest of souls. She gave Gabe his two younger brothers late in her life. All three of the boys, had been known as “Lydia's angels.” She had adored her three beautiful sons, until the day she and Jacob went back east to visit her relatives. Both were killed, when their stagecoach was robbed on their way home.

  Pops had been living with the family back then having just lost his wife. Not enough time to properly grieve for his wife, son, and daughter in law, Fergus had taken over as head of household. With Gabriel's help, he’d kept the family together for the last seven years.

  Gabe was a man full grown, and building a ranch of his own by then. Without blinking an eye, he’d taken Fergus and the boys to live with him. Taking over the care of two young boys, arguing with a stubborn old man, and handling the care of the ranch had been time consuming. Gabe just hadn’t had time for women back then. He had been too busy trying to keep food on their table. Hell, he had no time for them now. Not for any longer than for a good tumble or two, that is.

  “Pops.” Gabriel groaned exasperated. “Give it a rest will ya?”

  Damn, but the heat inside the barn was getting to Gabriel. Twin beads of sweat formed on his brow. It was surprisingly hot for this time of year, as winter was just starting to end. The weather in Texas was as unpredictable as Pops himself.

  Quickly dabbing at them with a dusty handkerchief, Gabriel went back to mucking the empty stall. There just never seemed like enough hours in the day to get all of his daily work done. The Lucky M did not run itself. Gabriel still had to balance the ranch’s monthly ledgers this evening, a chore he absolutely detested, before he would be able to relax. He dared not leave that duty to Fergus, not ever again. The last time Gabriel had trusted the old man with the ranch finances, it had taken over two months to sort through the mess he had made. Fergus was wonderful in every possible way; he just could not add nor subtract to save his life.

  “I can’t give it a rest, son.” Fergus spoke gently from behind him.

  Rolling his eyes heavenward, Gabriel prayed for patience. He knew there was no way that he was going to escape one of his grandfather’s lectures.

  “What’s this all about Pops?”

  “Well you wouldn’t listen to me before, so I did this for your own good...”

  “Did what Pops?” Gabe got one of those feelings he usually got, whenever the older man started with “I did this for your own good.” It was a fail proof indicator of impending trouble. Gabe still owed favors all over town, from the last fiasco his grandfather got up to.

  “Did what Pops?” Gabe impatient with the delay to his schedule, demanded for a second time, when the elderly man remained silent.

  “Remember that you’ve got Michael and Mathew to think about. I’m an old man. I won’t be around forever. In fact, I could go at any time ye’ know!” Fergus looked quite hopeful at that last part, as if sensing Gabriel’s reaction to his surprise.

  “You’re too ornery to die Pops. You’ll probably live to be two hundred.” Pushing back the brim of his tan wide brimmed hat, Gabriel wiped once again at the beads of sweat dotting his brow.

  “So, what did you do?” Gabriel eyed his grandfather suspiciously.

  “I sent for a bride.” The old man stated amazingly without batting an eyelash.

  “You what? Ha! Aren’t you a little too old to be dealing with marital relations?” Gabe taunted the old man.

  “A lot you know boy. These wheels still got some grease in ‘em. The ladies think I’m a doll.” Fergus replied with a sly wink.

  “You’re almost eighty Pops. What are you going to do with a bride?” Gabriel chuckled at the thought of his Pops wooing some sweet young thing.

  “Lad… this bride, she’s for you.” Fergus’s Irish brogue sounded thick as pea soup to Gabriel’s shocked mind. It took a minute or two for the old man’s words to sink into his brain.

  “You’re crazy Pops! Tell me you didn’t.” Gabe sputtered. All of his previous amusement vanishing instantaneously, as anger began to boil inside. The meddlesome man had gone way beyond too far.

  “Tell me you didn’t!” Gabriel roared this time.

  Gabe stared incredulously at the old man in front of him. Fergus O’Malley barely stood five and a half feet tall. Sporting a shock of cotton white hair, bright blue eyes, and a hint of mischief he always carried about him. His round little tummy and bulbous nose always reminded Gabriel of the little people his Da’ called Leprechauns. Protective of their gold, as Pops was of his family. A bit of deviltry shone in those bright blue eyes as well.

  Gabe knew his grandfather had a heart as big and wide as the Texas sky. There was no way that Pops would ever do anything to hurt any of his grandsons intentionally. Although, when Pops got started on a mission he usually left behind inevitable casualties. Gabriel’s job always seemed to be cleaning up after the mischief maker.

  “Why Pops? How?” Lowering his voice he questioned the little rascal. Gabe knew Pops had meant well... But darn it, he just couldn’t go around ordering wives for a man.

  “I was trying to help you Gabriel.”

  Sighing, Gabe knew he couldn’t stay mad at the old coot. One look at his grandfather’s sad puppy dog done wrong eyes, and Gabe was riddled with guilt. Responsibility weighed heavily on Gabriel’s shoulders. Hel
l, maybe he did need a wife. Not that he was going to be taking one any time soon, he reminded himself. It was best to steer clear of Pops’ schemes. Since, he’d always ended up in one scrape or another trying to correct the trouble left behind, after Pops got through “helping” matters.

  “When I went to town for last month’s council meeting, I placed an ad in one of those circulars.” The older man began. “I’ve gotten a few responses. So, I picked one last week. A nice girl from a town called Rocking, up north. She should be here in the next couple of weeks, if her wire is correct.” Pops explained lightly, hoping his grandson wouldn’t calculate the timing of his bride’s arrival.

  So, maybe he fibbed a bit. It was for a worthy cause, he told himself. Fergus and half the “boys” on the city council had decided this was the only way to go about the matter.

  Fergus knew his plan was going to be hard on his grandson. For Gabriel to accept that this is what he needed in life, he‘d have to make himself vulnerable. This was something Gabe would fight. He’d think it was weakness to need someone.

  The boy had been too lonely lately. Fergus had seen it himself. The way he worked dawn to dusk on the ranch, spending hardly any time with his brothers. A wife would do him good; keep him from working himself to death. Hopefully give Fergus some great grand babies to bounce upon his knee. Just the thought of wee ones brought a smile to the old man’s face. Maybe, they would name one or two of the little darlings after him.

  “What on earth, did you write in that ad Pops?” Gabriel demanded Fergus’ attention.

  “Just that you were looking ‘fer a wife and you’d be willin’, to pay her way out here. If’n ye to meet up and took a notion, you’d two would marry up.” Fergus hastily explained.

  “What if she’s a hag? What if she’s crazy? What then Pops?”

  “I didn’t say you had to marry her, just that you’d meet her. If it doesn’t work out, well then you can help her get a job out here somewhere.” Fergus continued. “Besides, she says she’s twenty three. Has got an even temper, and she’s a fair cook.” Pops stated firmly but consolingly.

  “Pops, that’s what ugly girls say!” Tossing the pitch fork away in anger, Gabe tried to control his temper.

  “Boy, you can deal with ugly.” Fergus snapped. “You can get past the outer, and see what’s underneath. I know you better than that. As for crazy? Hell, son there’s not a woman alive who ain’t a little crazy. Least ways, they seem crazy to us men.” Fergus continued. “ Yer’ sainted grandmother could drive an Irishman away from his precious brew!” Shaking his head sadly, Pop‘s told his grandson, “I loved that woman something fierce. Not a day goes by, that I don’t ache to hold her near te’ me”

  Gabe felt his grandfather’s longing. Moira O’Malley was the world to her family. She had shared a deep connection with her grandson, until the day she passed on. Some of his fondest memories were of Grams working in her kitchen. Always her eyes lit up, when she’d catch Fergus pinching a piece of pie that she’d made for dessert. Pops would think he’d gotten away, until Moira would bash her favorite spatula on his knuckles. Not too hard, but firm enough to put the fear of Moira O’Malley into him. Her husband would quickly give her a quick peck and a fresh wink, as he whistled a jaunty tune on his way out the door. After Pops would leave, she’d sneak a piece of pie for her grandson a stolen moment just for the two of them. Eventually when the boys were born, three pieces of pie would mysteriously vanish from the pie tin before dinner. It was a tradition.

  Yes, it was true. His grandparents had one of the most deeply, powerful bonds there was. Gabe wasn’t so sure he could ever have that. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to risk the pain, of losing another loved one. He was happy with his life as it was.

  “I don’t need a wife Pops... What I need is help around the ranch; A new housekeeper.” Gabe arms outstretched, gestured to the dirty stall in which he stood.

  “Last housekeeper you hired ran off with half your mama Lydia’s old jewelry. Imagine that! Stealing; from the dead.” Fergus shook his head mournfully.

  “I know that Pops.”

  “That’s not all. She drank my best whiskey! I don’t know how she pilfered it from under my bed… with me sleeping in it.” That was a feat in itself. Considering that he locked the bottle up tight in an old army case he’d found. Complete with a rusty lock.

  “Well, I’ll just make sure I get letters of reference this time.” Gabe argued.

  “Boy, it’s hard enough to get someone to come clear out here, and it’ll be damn near impossible to with the bridal bidding coming up in July.” Fergus was sadly correct.

  The closest town to the ranch was Liberty; even that was a good hour’s ride away. With the rapid growth of the town over the last year (due to the influence of the new mayor-) drastic measures had been taken. The Bridal Bidding… Just the thought of it made Gabe cringe.

  The ladies of a marriageable age far outnumbered the bachelor population, so the town council took a vote. The blasted females won. Of course, no one included the bachelors in on this. Which; might have swayed the outcome. Now, any single men who were interested in gaining a wife were going to be put up for “Auction”. Even the town Mayor Alec Wentworth, although forced, was going up for auction in just a little over three months’ time. This gave the ladies in the town time to “court” their potential grooms, and size up his marriageable compatibility. Like cattle. It disgusted Gabriel. Imagine a woman so bold as to propose to a man!

  The town council was to keep a ledger on each of the gentlemen, any woman interested marked her name in his book. After a few meetings with each woman, the groom picked his bride from the ledger. If both were willing to take vows, a suitable tax was paid to the town treasury.

  Gabe didn’t see how this would go over big with the single men. Not many men would want to be “courted” by a woman. No, men liked to do the chasing. It would probably be poor Alec up there by himself, since the council was forcing him to enter, or relinquish his job. Not that they’d want to fire him they warned, but they’d have to just to pacify those blasted females. Since after all, in the eyes of the council, he was setting a bad example to the men folk of Liberty. Times like this, a man had to pity his good friend. Alec was about the same age as Gabe, and if he was itching for a bride he hadn’t shown it so far.

  “Which reminds me Pops, how did you vote on the matter anyway?” Gabriel questioned.

  Fergus had been on the city council for the last ten years, partly, because of his peacemaking nature. Though for the most part because; it was hard to get anyone to take the job. It didn’t pay anything. Which about summed up why the city council consisted of only five men. Four of which were elderly. The other, Mathias Sinclair was roped in to fill the shoes of his sickly pa.

  “I voted against the bidding of course.” Pops left eye was twitching, a sure tell sign of a fib. The old man couldn’t hide anything from his grandson. Anyone who’d ever known Fergus knew that he was a born matchmaker.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t enter me in the bidding, since you’re so all fired up to see me leg shackled.”

  “I already placed the ad or I would’ve done it.” Fergus mumbled unhappily, then continued on, crossing his arms across is portly stomach. “Look on the bright side me boy if’n ye don’t suit, steer her towards the bidding.”

  “I should enter you old man, just to get even!” Gabriel stooped to retrieve the fallen pitch fork.

  “Cant’ have that son; the women would start a war over me. Sees how I’m such a catch and all.”

  “Yeah, you’re a catch alright…”

  “The way I see it boy, is that you’ve got to give it a good shot. You never know. She just might be yer one and only.”

  With that said, the elderly man headed inside for a cool drink and a floppy hat. It was time he got back to his gardening and leave Gabriel to sulk in peace. He knew the boy would soon see reason, he usually did. Well, usually after Fergus forced him to. Lord, right now he’d g
ive anything to speak to Moira. She would know what to do. His beloved wife had always been the smart one. The lassie could have talked some sense into her grandson….

  “You might as well as be whistling jigs to a milestone”

  An Irish saying; for trying to change a stubborn man’s mind.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Supper was on the table that night, before the subject was brought up again. In front of the boys no less, to the fury of Gabriel. Fergus had felt the need for reinforcements. He knew the boys would want a female around the house, and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Alright! It’s a great idea!” This was one subject on which Mathew was in total agreement. After all, he was the one in charge of the laundry. Which, in his mind he considered a “Woman’s” work. If having a woman around the house, meant that it got him out of doing the chore, - and got something other than beans on the table for dinner- well then, Mathew was all for it.

  “Might be nice, to have a woman around and all...”Michael ducked his head shyly back down towards his plate.

  Of the boys, Michael was the backward one. While Mathew could charm a snake from its rattler, Michael was way too bashful to say more than two words to strangers. He barely said more than five to any given family member. Mostly the boy kept his thoughts to himself.

  “It’s not going to happen, so forget it.” Gabriel swiftly vetoed.

  “Why not?” Pops crossed his arms over his chest, and dug his heels in for a fight.

  “I said so, that’s why.”

  “That’s not an answer.” Fergus argued.

  Sighing, Gabe thought longingly about the article awaiting him upstairs. Carl Von Linde’s essay on the improvement of refrigeration techniques would just have to wait a little while longer. Gabriel loved to experiment with new ideas on improving his ranch. He was currently working on a way to bring water directly into the house from the ground, through a new “spigot” design that he’d read about. A luxury that he had heard they have in those fancy hotels up in New York City.