Page 5 of A Bride for Brodie

CHAPTER2

Brodie headed home. It was late, and Joey’s pummeling of his stomach still hurt. That man packed a punch.

After only a few hours sleep, he awakened, hurting physically and mentally. He couldn’t get what he’d done out of his mind.

How could I have done it? How could I have lost nine-hundred dollars to Jake Flannery? What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking about anything except the next pot. I’d win that and then I’d get even with Jake. Just a few more pots…a few more days. But it didn’t happen, I just got deeper and deeper in debt. How will I ever face my brothers with the truth?

Ross knocked on his open bedroom door. “Time to go get married. Saddle up.”

* * *

Five men,all sitting tall in the saddle, approached. Each man led a saddled, riderless horse behind him.

The men dismounted. The first man came forward. He was extremely tall, with almost black hair and a full mustache. He introduced himself and his brothers. “I’m Ross Campbell. These are my brothers Clay, Frank, Tucker and Brodie.” He pointed to each man, who tipped his hat. “We’re here to marry you.”

Fiona gestured toward the women. She touched her chest. “I’m Fiona O’Neill. This is Gwen MacGorman. She touched Gwen’s shoulder.

“Ivy Sheahan.”

Ivy nodded.

“Maisie MacSheehy.”

Maisie crossed her arms and lifted her chin.

“And Lottie MacSheehy.”

Lottie gave a little wave.

“Have you decided who will marry who?” asked Fiona.

Lottie had agreed to this in theory, but seeing these big, tall men, she just wanted to get it over with, so they could get out of town before someone recognized them.

“We have.” Ross nodded and then smiled. “You’re marrying me.”

Lottie was glad he was not her match. She assumed since he did the talking that he was the oldest and he seemed a little stern, besides she didn’t like men with mustaches, much preferring a clean shaven man, but she would take the mustache over a man who wasn’t honest and kind.

The other men came forward and approached the women who were designated to be their wives.

Lottie wondered how the men decided who was to marry who. Did they draw names from a hat or just pick the name of a woman whose name they liked? She wondered if robbing the bank without a shot being fired and then getting sent to prison was a change in luck or a continuation of her bad luck, or maybe the start of something good.

The last man in the line came up to Lottie and swept off his hat. “Hi, I’m Brodie and you’re to be my wife. Does that suit you?”

He was tall. Not as tall as Ross and Clay, but still very tall. Lottie stood on the step above him, and they were nearly at eye level. Did he suit her? She narrowed her eyes and really looked at him. He had dark hair, as all the Campbell men did. But when he’d removed his hat, the sun picked out golden streaks in the dark locks.

His eyes were blue, and though he was clean shaven, he must have a heavy beard because she saw he already had the start of a dark shadow. Brodie was very handsome and rugged looking, with a strong, square jaw.

Seeing Brodie, she wondered again if maybe her luck had changed.

“Yes. I think you’ll suit.”What am I supposed to say? No. I won’t marry you? I won’t marry any man?—I’d go straight back to prison…without Maisie…and I won’t do that…ever. I’ll do whatever I have to do to so I can stay with her.

Brodie smiled, showing straight, white teeth. “Good to hear. I’m glad, as I think you suit me very well, too.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

She looked at it but didn’t take his arm.

“You’re awfully pretty, you know that?”

“I’ve been told. Usually, by a man who wanted something.”Usually by a man at a poker table who thought a little flattery would make me forget how to play cards.“But you’ll be my husband, so you don’t have to tell me I’m pretty to get what you want.”