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Chapter One

Denver, Colorado, 1883

Luke Jeffries twisted his hat in his hands as the woman stared at him from behind her desk. Like he was an errant schoolboy facing the teacher for his misdeeds. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. At least not in the way most people considered something to be wrong. He hadn’t hurt anyone or broken any laws, and yet standing in front of a strange woman, begging her to find him a mail-order bride, felt more wrong than anything the worst of sinners could do.

“Please, ma’am,” he said again, swallowing the guilt in his throat. “I’m not asking for me. But you see, my children...” Luke shook his head. Took a deep breath. “Without their mother, things have been hard for them. I’ve got to work.”

Some folks might say he didn’t. The mining company gave him a nice payout after Diana’s death. But he couldn’t accept their blood money. It just sat there in the bank, taunting him, telling him what they thought a woman’s life was worth. But none of that would bring back the woman he loved. A dollar couldn’t tuck in the children at night.

Which was the greater sin? Going to some agency to find himself a bride he could never love? Or spending money that could never replace what had been taken from him?

Luke straightened his shoulders. “I’ll provide my wife with a good home. Plenty of food, and the children are well behaved. It’s a good life for a decent woman.”

“And what about you, Mr. Jeffries?” Mrs. Heatherington, who ran the mail-order-bride agency, stood, leaning over her desk to stare at him even harder. “What do you have to offer of yourself?”

It was the very reason he’d come here. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “I will be kind to my new wife, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not a violent man. I don’t drink. I don’t gamble. I go to work every day at the smelter, then come home to spend the evening with my family.”

“What of love?” the woman asked quietly, almost too quietly, but his heart heard. And wept.

“I can offer her the love of a friend or a brother. I have no expectations of my future wife to be anything more.”

Luke stared down at his hat, knowing he wasn’t doing it any favors with the way he was twisting it, but right now the feel of the material gave him some comfort, like it was his only friend.

“It seems to me that you need a nanny or a housekeeper, not a wife,” Mrs. Heatherington said, sitting back down and jotting a few notes on a piece of paper. “I can give some recommendations of a few agencies that might help you.”

“No. I appreciate that, but I do need a wife. I can’t afford to pay someone, and to be honest, my living situation...” Luke shook his head again. “It wouldn’t be proper, having a woman come and stay with us if we weren’t married. Housing in Leadville is hard to come by, and our little house is but one room, with a tiny loft for sleeping.”

Mrs. Heatherington looked up at him over her glasses. “But you aren’t going to love her?”

It was obvious what she was asking, and yet such things weren’t spoken of, not in polite society, not with a respectable woman like Mrs. Heatherington. Then again, Luke wasn’t sure that asking someone to find him a wife was something a person did in polite society, either.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I think I understand what you’re asking. And let me assure you that I have no desire to have...” Luke paused and drew in a breath. “Any sort of...relations...with my new bride. Our marriage is to be in name only.”

And yet his words only served to make the woman stare at him like he was a criminal.

“Just what exactly do you think you’re offering? What would induce any woman to marry a man who only wants her to be a housekeeper or nanny without pay, and without the benefit of someone to love her? Someone to care about her?”

Luke shifted uneasily as she rose from her chair yet again.

“Please, ma’am. I just thought that maybe there was a woman out there, someone who doesn’t have all those romantic notions. A widow, maybe. Someone who needs a good home, children to raise. Women dream of that, don’t they?”

He looked at her, hoping she could see the earnest desire in his heart to find a situation that would work for not just him, but for a woman who wanted a similar situation.

“Women dream of being loved, Mr. Jeffries. They dream of being more than someone’s domestic servant.”

Shaking his head, he said slowly, “I don’t intend for her to be my servant. We’d be partners. Working together for the good of our family.”

Mrs. Heatherington glared at him.

“This isn’t just about me. My children need a good woman to guide them. My daughter Ruby, she’s...” Luke hesitated, trying to find polite words to describe the situation he found himself in. “Things are changing in her, and she needs a woman to help her.”

Once again, he stared at the floor, anything to avoid meeting the gaze of the woman who stood on the other side of the desk, judging him. Making him wish he hadn’t seen the ad in the paper promising to find men good wives. Easier than Taking a Mail-Order-Bride Ad Yourself, it claimed. We Do the Work for You. And since he’d tried finding a mail-order bride, with no answers to his ads, this seemed to be his last option.

“Surely a woman from your church could discuss those things with your daughter,” Mrs. Heatherington said kindly. “I understand it would be difficult for a man, but—”

“I won’t have anything to do with the church,” Luke said, his attention snapping back up at her. “That’s the whole reason we’re in this mess. As far I’m concerned, the church killed my wife. Even if they could help, I wouldn’t take it.”

With a pang, Luke thought of the many meals the ladies had brought over for his family when Diana had been killed. He hadn’t wanted to take them, hadn’t wanted to eat the food, but the children had been so hungry, and Luke’s efforts at preparing anything edible hadn’t gone over well. Every bite had made him feel sick, and he’d been grateful when ten-year-old Ruby had calmly told him that her mother had taught her to prepare some basic things, and she’d taken over the cooking.

But it wasn’t Ruby’s place to prepare the meals, do her mother’s chores and take care of her siblings. Especially now that the woman Luke had hired to watch Maeve, the youngest, who wasn’t yet in school, had quit. Maureen’s note to him saying she was leaving had somehow gone awry, and Luke found out that Ruby was skipping school to do the job herself. She deserved to have her childhood back, which was one more reason Luke had to find a wife. Clearly hired help couldn’t be counted on, and Luke still didn’t understand how it had taken him nearly a week to find out that Ruby had taken over. Since then, he’d relied on the generosity of neighbors, but Luke had to find a more permanent solution. It didn’t feel right to take a wife not six months after Diana’s death, but Luke was out of options.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeffries. I can’t help you,” Mrs. Heatherington said, coming around to the side of her desk. “We are a Christian organization, and it’s my obligation to bring together men and women of faith to create a loving home.”

She shook her head as she looked at him with sympathy. “I am truly sorry for your loss, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to have lost a wife, and for your children to not have a mother. But this goes against everything I believe in. Too many women come out here as part of mail-order-bride schemes, thinking they’re going to end up with a wonderful life. All too often, they end up in terrible situations, some even being sold to houses of ill repute.”

“I would never—”

Mrs. Heatherington shook her head slowly. “Perhaps not. But what happens to this bride of yours when the children are grown and you have no need of free labor? Or one of you realizes that you do, in fact, need someone to love in your life?”

Before Luke could answer, a voice called out from behind him. “I’ll do it.”

Luke turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. Though her clothes seemed to have once been of fine quality, they were now threadbare and worn. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a simple yet elegant style, and she bore herself like a lady of means. The lines at the corners of her deep brown eyes indicated a weariness of the world matching his own. Yet her face seemed to have a strength to it that said she was not going to let any of her hardships get her down.

“And you are?” Mrs. Heatherington stepped past him to approach the woman.

“Nellie McClain,” she said, entering the room. “I’ve come to see if you’d find me a husband.”

Nellie looked around the room, then her gaze settled on Luke. “He’ll do just fine.”

He’ll do just fine. Not exactly the words of love and devotion one would expect to come from a bride, but Luke wasn’t looking for love and devotion. Still, he knew nothing of this woman, and it seemed odd that she’d jump right in and offer to marry him.

“But you know nothing about him,” Mrs. Heatherington said. “And we haven’t... That is to say, I don’t know who you are, and we haven’t gone through the interview process.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You won’t help him, but I can.”

“What do you mean, you can?” Luke said.

“I need a husband,” she said, turning her attention to him. “Based on what you said, I think you’re exactly what I’m looking for. I don’t want a man to make promises with his fancy words. I don’t want some notion of romance. All I want is someone who is decent, hardworking, and knows how to treat people right. I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but based on what I heard in here, it seems to me that you have the qualities I seek.”

Her words might not sound like what a man hoped to hear from a prospective bride. But they were music to Luke’s ears, given that it seemed like they wanted the same thing.

“But what of love?” Mrs. Heatherington asked. “You seem like a nice young lady. Surely you want better for yourself.”

“With all due respect,” Nellie said, “I’m a widow. I know what it’s like to marry over some foolish notion like what a person thinks might be love. A woman like me needs nothing more than the protection of a good man and a family to care for. To be able to raise children is a pleasure I dared not hope for, but I would be extremely grateful for the opportunity.”

She stepped farther into the room and looked at Luke, and for the first time, he was able to examine her features and see that while it was easy to mistake her for a young lady in the marriage mart, her bearing bore the strain of someone who had seen far too much pain in so short a life. A widow. This woman knew what it was like to love and lose, and it was obvious she wasn’t willing to take the risk again. A perfect match for him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Luke said. “What makes you want to marry?”

Nellie hesitated. A dark look flashed across her face, and Luke wished he could ask her about it. But he barely knew this woman, and it didn’t seem right to dig into her pain.

“I suppose it sounds selfish for me to say that I wish to be cared for. A woman in my position finds herself taken advantage of and placed in bad situations because she is alone. There is little a respectable woman can do on her own, and she is often faced with challenges simply because of her circumstances. I’ve had enough struggle and hardship, and all I really want is to live life in peace.”

She looked up at him with such sadness in her eyes that even if he hadn’t already decided to marry her, Luke would have found some way of helping her. He couldn’t disagree with her words. Though he had nothing but respect for women, he had also seen how many other men mistreated them. A woman on her own was a target for all sorts of vile deeds. Based on the expression on Nellie’s face, Luke would guess that something terrible indeed had happened to her.

“I can’t promise you that a life with me will be easy,” Luke said. “I live in Leadville, a mining town in the mountains that boasts of luxuries and society rivaling that of Denver. However, Leadville also has a dark side, an uncivilized side, and the best I can offer you is a tiny cabin on a dirty street in the midst of it. We’ve plenty enough to eat, clothes on our backs, and as long as you don’t require anything fancy, you’ll have what you need.”

“But what of love?” Mrs. Heatherington asked again, looking distraught and wringing her hands as she came forward. “The two of you sound like you’re planning a business deal. But marriage is so much more than that. What happens when the children are grown? What happens when you can’t bear the sight of each other?”

Luke took another look at Nellie. It wouldn’t be proper of him to say, but Nellie’s eyes were not her only attraction. The light shone on her dark hair in a way that made it sparkle. Being able to bear looking at her wasn’t the problem. He was more worried that he would like looking at her a little too much.

Nellie smiled at her, a gentle expression that made Luke want to know her better. “There are different kinds of love. Romantic love is something I want nothing to do with. It is a whimsical notion that makes fools of too many men and women. But there is also the love of a mother, father, brother, sister, and what I hope to develop with my future husband, that of a friend.”

Then Nellie turned her gaze on Luke, smiling at him. If only Mrs. Heatherington hadn’t made him consider her beauty. Her warm, gentle smile made him feel more at ease than he’d been since he’d stepped foot into this room. She was lovely indeed.

“Can we agree to become friends?” Nellie inquired. “Surely it isn’t too much to ask. After all, it would be best for the children to have the example of the adults in their lives trying to get along. And, as Mrs. Heatherington said, once the children leave, it would be nice to spend the rest of my life with a friend.”

Friends. He’d come here looking for a wife, and it seemed almost unbelievable that he might be leaving with something more. If he and God were on speaking terms, he might even thank the man upstairs for such an unexpected blessing.

Luke turned to Nellie. “For you, the possibility of a child was more than you could hope for. I hadn’t even been thinking about gaining a friend. But it would be mighty nice to have someone to talk to and a companion for my life. It would be my honor to be your friend. And I hope you will do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

Another smile lit up Nellie’s face. “I would be delighted,” she said.

* * *

Had Nellie really just accepted a proposal of marriage? It shouldn’t be a surprise; after all, that was why she’d come. But it seemed almost too good to be true to have a husband fall into her lap.

“I cannot countenance such a thing,” Mrs. Heatherington said. “My matches come from careful consideration and selection. This could ruin my business.”

Nellie turned and looked at the older woman. “I do apologize. Fortunately for you, your business had nothing to do with this match. You’d already told Mr. Jeffries that you can’t help him. I hadn’t yet put in my application with you. Therefore, you aren’t liable for anything that happens between us. We are merely two parties who happened to meet at your place of business and came to an agreement on our own. Thank you for allowing us to have this conversation in your parlor. We shan’t trouble you further. Good day to you, Mrs. Heatherington. I appreciate your thoughtful contributions to this matter.”

“You would really marry a stranger?” Mrs. Heatherington looked shocked, like she’d never heard such a thing.

“How is this any different from what you do?” Nellie stared at the woman for a moment.

Mrs. Heatherington met her gaze. “I have a long questionnaire that I use to determine whether or not a couple is suited for one another. I compare their likes, interests, temperament and values, and bring together compatible people to share each other’s lives. But you’re right. You made this decision on your own. As long as you do not hold me responsible, then I suppose I have nothing more to say on the matter.”

Mr. Jeffries stepped forward. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Heatherington. I greatly appreciate the careful thought and consideration you gave to my situation. I can see that you care deeply for doing right by your clients, and even by strangers. It’s commendable, and though we did not use your services, I will always speak very highly of you and your business.”

Then Mr. Jeffries held his hand out to Nellie. “I believe there is a restaurant down the street. Will you join me for an early supper so we can discuss the terms of our marriage?”

Leaving Mrs. Heatherington looking rather like she’d been through a terrible, unexpected storm, Nellie took his arm and exited the building.

The air was crisp, and the scent of burning wood from people’s fireplaces, along with the unmistakable heavy clouds in the distance, told her that deep winter would soon be upon them. All the better to have this matter settled so quickly and easily, then. A few more weeks, days even, and the weather might have made things more difficult.

Once they’d gotten about halfway down the block, Nellie looked up at Mr. Jeffries. The previous scene echoed in her mind like a strange dream. And though it seemed completely out of place, Nellie chuckled softly.

Mr. Jeffries stared at her. “What’s so funny?”

“Did you see the look on Mrs. Heatherington’s face? I thought she was going to die of apoplexy. What kind of person marries a complete stranger?”

She shook her head, marveling at herself. Nellie wasn’t normally so quick in her decisions, but as she’d heard Mr. Jeffries pleading his case with the woman, she knew she had to help him. Who could refuse a man who needed that kind of help?

Besides, she needed his help, as well.

“Us, I suppose.” Then Mr. Jeffries frowned, making him look considerably older than he seemed to be. His blond hair held no flecks of gray, and his face was unmarred by wrinkles. A young man, bearing the burden of a much older one. “That seems incredibly irresponsible, doesn’t it?” Then he sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s been so hard since my wife died, and I’m out of options. I’ve been told I have good instincts for people, and I feel like I can trust you. Plus, it seems as though we are of similar mind, which seems the same as the shared values Mrs. Heatherington spoke of. I must admit, though, what interested me the most in you was your happiness about the children. You don’t mind not having children of your own?”

There was no judgment in Mr. Jeffries’s words. Too many people saw Nellie’s childless state and treated her as though she had some kind of defect.

“I cannot have children,” she said quietly. Shame ate at the pit of her stomach at the admission. Her lack of fertility was one of the reasons Ernest had been disappointed in her as a wife. She hadn’t been able to give him the son he’d wanted, and for that he’d made sure she was punished.

Mr. Jeffries slipped his hand into hers. “Then you shall gain three,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Ruby is ten, Amos is seven, and Maeve is two.”

Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. Mr. Jeffries hadn’t hesitated when she admitted her infertility. Though she had spent her whole life wanting nothing more than to be someone’s mother, she’d always considered it a blessing that she and Ernest had never had children. She couldn’t imagine submitting a child to his cruelty.

Some might think her foolish for wanting another husband, considering how Ernest had treated her, but Nellie had to hope that this time she had chosen better. When she’d married Ernest, she hadn’t yet learned to recognize the cruel glint of a man’s eyes that said he cared only for himself. She hadn’t known the reddish tinge to the end of a man’s nose and the sour smell that came with the overfondness of drink. Back then, Nellie loved the flowery phrases used to beguile because she thought them romantic, not realizing that poetry held little truth and deception was easily hidden behind pretty words.

There was comfort in Mr. Jeffries’s frank speech. He held no air of pretense, and there was no sign in him of the kind of man she’d learned to fear. She’d been honest when she’d told Mrs. Heatherington that a woman like her could not get by without the protection of a husband.

Before she’d come to Colorado, she’d found more than her share of challenges simply because she was a woman alone. People wanted to deal with her husband or her father, not a young widow. Marriage offered her the chance to live without having to continually justify her situation.

But as she looked up at Mr. Jeffries and his gentle gaze, she wondered if he’d have much sympathy if he knew her full story. Knew the horror her marriage had been the last few months, and what Ernest had done. One would think that his death would have brought her freedom, but...

Nellie shook her head. She was free now. In a new part of the country, with a new last name, thanks to her soon-to-be husband, they wouldn’t be able to find her. A man’s debts weren’t supposed to pass on to his wife. Then again, most men didn’t sell their wives to cover their debts. Slavery might have been abolished, but it didn’t stop men from making backroom deals to hand over their wives for financial compensation.

Married to a man who’d had no part in the arrangement, Nellie would be protected from them coming after her. She’d run away when Ernest died, but they’d found her at her sister’s and dragged her back to the horrible place they’d been keeping her.

Where she’d seen cruelty in the faces of other men, she saw a kindness in Mr. Jeffries, a gentleness, and a deep sadness at having lost his wife. She didn’t expect him to love her in that way, but knowing that this man had a heart made it seem safer somehow to trust him. Even though there was still so much to learn about him.

Glancing up at Mr. Jeffries, she smiled. “Since we’re to be married, might I trouble you for your name? I heard Mrs. Heatherington refer to you as Mr. Jeffries, but we should discuss what I am to call you.”

“Luke.” He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand. “And I hope you will allow me to call you Nellie.”

“Of course.” She returned his smile, though part of her wished she hadn’t made the effort. Luke had a pleasantness of manner, and the way he looked at her almost made her feel like a schoolgirl.

But she’d long ago lost any of those schoolgirl dreams.

Nellie hated the thought that she needed a man. But the police only shook their heads pityingly and told her they couldn’t help her when she’d gone to them to escape the men who’d bought her.

“Go to your husband or father,” they’d said. What was a woman without either to do? Especially since one of the men Ernest sold her to had claimed he was her father, and at that point no one would listen to her story. A father had the right to do what he wanted with his errant daughter. A husband could force his wife into unspeakable things, and no one would lift a hand to help her. Nellie’s only chance was to find a good man who would give her the protection of his name.

As they crossed the street and headed toward the restaurant Nellie remembered passing on the way here, she stole a glance at Luke. He didn’t seem the sort to hurt a woman. Though Mrs. Heatherington’s words might have provoked a lesser man, he’d remained calm and polite, and Nellie hadn’t seen any signs of a temper.

Still, when she found herself seated across from Luke at a table, she had to wonder whether she could really trust him. He’d been a man looking to get what he wanted; therefore, he’d shown only his most pleasing side.

When the waiter came and poured her a cup of tea, Nellie couldn’t help herself.

“What do you think of the roast beef?” she asked, pointing at the menu but leaning forward enough to spill the tea. All over Luke.

“Oh!” He jumped, but his gaze immediately went to Nellie. “You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”

She stared at him for a moment. She’d spilled the tea on him. On purpose. Well, not so he would know she’d done it on purpose. But when she’d accidentally spilled things at home, Ernest would yell at her, call her obscene names, and sometimes...

Nellie shook her head. “No. I’m terribly sorry. I was so engrossed in the menu, I’d forgotten the tea was there. I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

Kind eyes looked back at her. “Accidents happen. You’ll find, in a house full of children, we have our share of spills.” He dabbed at the mess with his napkin. “And it’s only tea. Easy enough to get out in the wash.”

The waiter rushed over with more tea and napkins.

“I do apologize,” Nellie told him. “I’m usually not so clumsy.”