Rejected as a Mail Order Bride, She Turned Away — Until the Cowboy Whispered, ‘Be Mine’

Chapter 9

Elias opened the door before the knock had fully finished, James standing there backlit by the low pink of the dying sky, his coat dusty, hat low, the same cocky grin on his face, but his eyes were wrong — too calm, too steady, like a man who wasn’t here to negotiate.

“Well,” he said. “You sure did make yourself comfortable.”

Elias didn’t move. “You’re not welcome here.”

James’s grin widened. “You said that last time. Yet here I am.”

May stepped into the doorway beside Elias. Her voice didn’t waver. “What do you want?”

“Just a word,” James said. “No trouble, no guns. I just figured we ought to have ourselves a proper goodbye, seeing as you’ve moved on so fast.”

Elias kept himself between them. “Whatever you came to say, say it. Then leave.”

James leaned against the porch post, casual, like he owned the place. “You always did know how to pick them, May. But this one—” he jerked his chin at Elias, “—this one looks like he thinks you’re something worth keeping. Poor bastard.”

May didn’t flinch. “I am something worth keeping.”

James turned his gaze to her fully. “That right. You forget who you were when I found you.”

“I remember too well,” she said. “That’s why I left.”

He laughed, short and sharp. “You always did have a flair for drama. But I ain’t here to argue. I’m here to collect what’s mine.”

Elias stepped forward. “She’s not yours.”

James’s smile dropped. “She was.”

“Then you lost her,” Elias said, “the day you raised your hand.”

James’s face tightened. “You think you know her. You think one summer in a ranch house makes up for everything she’s done.”

May’s voice cut in, cold and clear. “This is the last time you’ll speak to me like that. You don’t get to come back into my life and rewrite the ending.” She let that sentence settle before adding the piece she’d learned only days earlier. “And you don’t get to hide behind an anonymous letter to a widow, either. I know what you did before I ever stepped off that train, James. I know you wrote to the Hodges family and made certain I’d have no soft place to land in this town before you ever came looking for me directly.”

Something flickered across James’s face — the first genuine surprise he’d shown since arriving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do,” May said. “And so does every person left in Bitter Creek who’s since heard the truth of it. You wanted me isolated. Desperate. Believing I had nowhere else to turn but back to you. It didn’t work. It only made me understand, plainer than ever, exactly what kind of man I actually left behind.”

James stepped forward, jaw tight with fury at being seen so completely. Elias met him chest to chest. That’s when Caleb Hodges stepped around the corner of the house, rifle cradled casually in his arms, having apparently walked over that same evening to help with the fence line and arrived at precisely the right moment.

“Evening,” he said. “Problem here?”

James eyed the gun, then looked between the three of them. May could feel it — his pride choking him. He’d come here to break her down, to scare her into silence the way he had in the old days. But something was different now. She wasn’t small anymore. And he could see it.

“I’ll leave,” James said finally, voice low. “But we’re not done.”

“Yes,” May said. “We are.”

He stepped off the porch and back to his horse. He mounted slowly, not turning his back until the very last moment. May stood there until the sound of hooves disappeared over the ridge. Back inside, the quiet hit her like a wave. She sank onto the edge of the couch, her legs weak. Elias knelt beside her. “You all right?”

She nodded. “I didn’t shake.”

“You did good.”

“I kept thinking,” she said slowly, “about how I used to sit in silence so he wouldn’t start. How I’d go cold just to keep the air calm. And now look at me. Talking back.”