Cheryl St.John - His Secondhand Wife

“You’re comin’ with me.”

Kate blinked and glanced around the dingy room. “I don’t even know you. I don’t know where you live.”

“Spread out by Cooper Creek called Rock Ridge. House and livestock. I mean to take care of you. What more do you need to know?” Noah asked.

What more, indeed? Kate’s mind whirled with concern for her desperate circumstances, fear of the future and the shock of her missing husband’s death. The thought of her detested job in the laundry combined with her mother’s suffocating criticism convinced her. Kate had to get away.

And she might never have another chance.

Kate turned, grabbed a gunnysack and stuffed her meagre belongings into it. She didn’t pause to see if she’d forgotten anything, neither did she stop to think or reconsider.

Maybe she was crazy for leaving with a man she’d never met before. Maybe listening to his promises was rash.

But, then again, this could be the best thing that had ever happened.

Praise for Cheryl St John:

HIS SECONDHAND WIFE‘A beautifully crafted and involving story about the transforming power of love.’ — Romantic Times BOOKreviews

PRAIRIE WIFE‘This is a very special book, courageously executed by the author and her publisher. St John explores the catastrophic loss of a toddler in intimate, painfully beautiful detail. Her considerable skill brings the common theme of the romance novel— love conquers all—to the level of genuine catharsis.’ — Romantic Times BOOKreviews

SWEET ANNIE‘A tale brimming with love…Ms St John delivers another wonderful Western historical romance…’ — Romance Reviews Today

THE DOCTOR’S WIFE‘Cheryl St John gives testimony to the blessings of family and to the healing powers of love.’ — Romantic Times BOOKreviews

THE TENDERFOOT BRIDE‘THE TENDERFOOT BRIDE is a rich tale of life on a ranch, but it is one of the most tender romances I have read in a long time.’ — The Romance Reader

Cheryl St Johnremembers writing and illustrating her own books as a child. She received her first rejection at age fourteen, and at fifteen wrote her first romance. A married mother of four, and a grandmother several times over, Cheryl enjoys her family. In her ‘spare’ time, she corresponds with dozens of writer friends, from Canada to Texas, and treasures their letters.

Recent novels by the same author:

SWEET ANNIE

JOE’S WIFE

THE DOCTOR’S WIFE

SAINT OR SINNER

THE MISTAKEN WIDOW

THE TENDERFOOT BRIDE

ALMOST A BRIDE

(in Wed Under Western Skies ) PRAIRIE WIFE CHRISTMAS DAY FAMILY (in A Western Winter Wonderland )

Cheryl St John

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The story is dedicated in loving memory to my sister-in-law, Judy Smith, who loved to read Harlequin and Silhouette novels and enjoyed so many of the talented category authors. I miss your phone calls, the cheese balls and especially—your laugh. See you soon.

Prologue

Copper Creek, Colorado April 1890

A sick feeling dipped in Noah Cutter’s stomach as he studied the approaching rider. He dropped the wire cutters and rolled his sleeves down over his arms, snatched the hat he’d hung on a nearby fence post and pulled the brim down to shade his face.

His brother was the only person who ever came to Rock Ridge unannounced, and though Noah hadn’t seen him for months, the man on the horse was definitely not Levi.

The horse slowed. Noah raised a palm. “That’s far enough.”

“I have a telegram for ya!” the rider called in the breathless voice of a young man.

“Stick it on the fence there and ride off.”

“The sheriff said it was important you read this. You might wanna send a reply.”

“Leave it on the fence then and back off.”

The youth slid uneasily from the horse’s back and loped to the fence. The breeze whipped the paper for an instant, but he flattened it, found an exposed end of wire and poked the missive over the point. He glanced nervously at Noah.

Noah observed in silence.

The lad grabbed the reins and led the animal a considerable distance away.

Slowly, Noah covered the expanse to the flapping paper and plucked it from the fence. Unfolding it, he read the telegram addressed to Sheriff Mc Hargue.

Holding body of man in mid to late twenties, fair hair, blue eyes. Gunshot. Pocket watch engraved: “All my love, Adrienne.” Saloon patrons claim owner from Copper Creek. Advise.

Matt Mc Hargue had added his own note at the bottom, two lines in black ink.

Maybe you’d better go see the body. Let me know if you want me to tell Estelle.

Noah stared at the words until they blurred and his stomach knotted. The pocket watch didn’t mean anything to him; his brother owned several and some had probably been gifts from any of the number of women he drew so effortlessly.

The word “gunshot” leaped out with frightening clarity. The description sounded like Levi, but it probably sounded like a hundred other men in the Rockies, as well. Blond hair and blue eyes didn’t have to mean the dead man was his brother.

The message didn’t sit well, but he wouldn’t bet that this couldn’t possibly be Levi. It could very well be. Noah had feared something like this for as long as he could remember. Levi’s reckless philandering was bound to get him into trouble sooner or later.

As much disdain as his stepmother held for Noah, he couldn’t let the sheriff be the one to give Estelle such alarming news. The dead man might not be her son, but if he was, his mother deserved more consideration.

Noah looked up. “Let the sheriff know I’ll tell Mrs. Cutter myself,” he called. “I’ll set out for Masonville at first light tomorrow.”

From where he stood, the lad raised a hand. “I’ll tell ’im.”

He climbed onto the back of his horse, gave Noah another quizzical glance and lit out.

Losing Levi would be like cutting away another piece of himself. An oppressive sense of dread weighed upon his chest as Noah watched the horse’s hooves kicking up dust in the distance.

Don’t let it be Levi. Please don’t let it be Levi.

Chapter One

The rap on the wood was sharp and insistent. Kate Allen Cutter pushed herself up from her narrow cot and slowly crossed the small dimly lit room while smoothing wrinkles from her faded skirt. She’d left her job at the laundry an hour ago to come home and put up her feet. Her mother wasn’t due back from her shift for another half an hour.

She opened the door hesitantly.

A hulking mass of a man stood on the step, his shoulders blocking the late-afternoon sun and casting his face into mysterious shadow. Though the day was fair, he wore a Hudson’s Bay coat with the collar turned up and carried a rifle as though it was another appendage. He made no move to displace the weathered black hat pulled low over his eyes.

She didn’t know him, and she didn’t get a good feeling from his presence. A shiver of apprehension snaked up her spine. She was alone here, and he was as intimidating a man as she’d set eyes on. Any number of seedy characters passed through Boulder on a regular basis.

The length of his shaggy dark hair, his full beard and the concealing brim combined with the sun at his back gave her the impression he’d deliberately planned this time and his arrival to catch her off guard. But that was absurd.

Uneasily she found her voice. “Y-yes?”

“Katherine Cutter?” No preliminaries, no polite introduction; he meant business and his imposing manner flustered her.

“Yes,” she said again. “Who are you?”

“Noah,” he said simply, as though the name should mean something to her.

“Noah?” she repeated dumbly.

“Noah Cutter.”

She blinked in confusion.

“Your brother-in-law,” he clarified.

Kate’s heart did a backward tumble in her chest while her thoughts whirred chaotically. Brother-inlaw? It had been five months since she’d seen her husband, and while she remembered Levi mentioning his family, she’d never met any of them. Why would this man seek her out now? Unconsciously she touched her hand to her breast.

“You…you’re Levi’s brother?”

He nodded.

She stood in his massive shadow, squinting upward, but he didn’t elaborate. Finally she glanced at the shabby room behind her and asked hesitantly, “Would you like to come in?”

“We need to talk.”

She took a step backward. “Come in then.”

He lumbered past her and stood beside the wobbly table.

Gathering her shawl around her, Kate stepped toward the window and reached for the shade. She’d been resting with the shade drawn and the room was semidark. She raised it and sunlight spilled across the wooden floor. She hurried toward the stove. “Can I fetch you a cup of coffee?”

“No. I’m not stayin’. I came to talk.” She caught the odd sound his “s” made when he spoke the word “staying.” Boots striking the bare wood floor, he moved to stand with his back to the window and turned to face her, once again silhouetting himself against the light.

“What do you have to say?” she asked.

“How long since you’ve seen Levi?”

Humiliating warmth infused her neck and cheeks, and this time she had little attention for his odd-sounding speech. She didn’t want to admit that her husband had taken off without a word and left her to fend on her own.

“He’s been looking for work.”

“For how long?”

It made her nervous that she couldn’t see his face. More nervous that he was asking this question. “A few months.”

“I have bad news for you.”

Blood chugging sporadically through her heart, she nervously smoothed her palms over her skirt. “All right.”

“He was killed last week.”

Kate worked the abruptly delivered information around in her mind for a moment, not quite grasping the meaning. Levi had been killed? He was dead? Her heart hammered painfully. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“It couldn’t have been someone else?” She’d prayed every day that Levi would return and take her from this intolerable situation she’d been forced to endure since he disappeared. Now that would never happen! “Someone who looked like him or someone using his name?”

“I went to Masonville for his body, ma’am.” This time his deep voice was thick with emotion. “It’s Levi.”

Kate’s blood rushed to her ears and pounded. She pictured Levi the way she remembered him, with sun-bleached hair and laughing eyes the color of a summer sky. The hazy image of him cold and lifeless didn’t mesh with her vivid memories. Levi dead?

Stars burst behind her eyelids. The bright nimbus of light around the man flickered and dimmed.

The woman’s face was alarmingly pale and her eyelids fluttered. Her distraught hazel eyes grew unfocused and Noah caught her as she slid toward the scarred wooden floor, scooping her up in his arms and laying her on the cot.