Mail Order Bride for Two [Badlands 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)

Badlands 1

ELLE SAINT JAMES

Copyright © 2009

Chapter 1

Badlands of South Dakota 1890

“Shit, how much longer do we have to wait for her to show up?” Logan Granger snatched the tan Stetson from his head and slapped it against his leg in frustration. A plume of dust rose, reminding him that he’d been away from home too long.
 
It had been a lengthy week of disappointment and endless waiting for the daily train to show up.

“I doubt she leapt off the train to beat it here on foot.” Derek Brand, his best friend and business partner shifted his shoulder more firmly against the wall of the train station and released a long sigh. Derek had the patience of Job. Maybe his Texas upbringing had a hand in the way he led his life. Slow, smooth and quiet.

“Very funny.”

The railroad station in Campbell’s Valley wasn’t as busy as expected for this time of day. Likely it was because the train was late. Again.

Jasper Coggon, a lawyer from the East who now lived locally, had gone to New York City and arranged the private bride contract for them. He told them just enough to get their spirits fired up and nothing more.

Logan adjusted his pants as the thought of a regular female sharing their life crossed his mind for the thousandth time that day. The train carrying their mail order bride was late and if it didn’t show up in another hour, they’d have to spend another night at the hotel. All alone. Again. The wire confirming that their expected visitor, Miss Miranda Herrington, was on her way hadn’t been specific regarding the day she would arrive just generalized dates spanning a week when she might appear.

Upon his earlier return, Jasper described Miranda as a tall, willowy figured brunette with pale skin and a pleasant disposition. And most importantly for their needs, she’d be willing to provide sexual companionship for both of them.

Today was the last day of the originally stated time frame. If she didn’t show up on the last train scheduled, they would have to head back to their ranch. Or one of them would. Logan didn’t relish the long ride back home. Especially if he had to make the trip without the mail order bride they’d contracted to secure over five months ago. He was hot, tired, and horny, none of which apparently mattered to Derek.

“We already waited longer than anyone else has,” Logan complained. “How can you not be troubled? Show a little enthusiasm.”

“I’ll be plenty enthusiastic once she gets here, don’t you worry.”

“Why is it taking so long anyway?”

Derek released another long breath, cleared his throat and finally answered, “I reckon it takes more time to find a woman willing to share and trains are sometimes unpredictable, but better than traveling on foot. Settle down.”

“If you’re about to tell me that ‘patience is a virtue’ I’m going to cram my fist in your mouth.”

“The phrase had occurred to me, but I’ve changed my mind since you’re so wound up.” Derek reached up to adjust his hat. He tilted the bill lower on his forehead shading his eyes from view.

“How can you be so laid-back? Doesn’t your cock ache from lack of use?”

“My cock is none of your business.”

“At least until she arrives. Then both of our cocks will be in business.”

Derek lifted the brim of his had, caught Logan’s gaze and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Logan. Jesus, get a saloon girl if you can’t wait.”

“Don’t want one. I want our especially selected woman.”

In the distance the siren call of a train whistle echoed through the valley and both of them stood a little straighter in anticipation.

“Hellfire and damnation. The train is finally here.” Logan sprung forward and leaned over the edge of the train station platform as if it would help him see the coming conveyance. It wouldn’t, but it made him feel better to watch.

“Sounds like it.” Derek didn’t move. Typical.

The two of them were as opposite in looks as night and day. Derek was as dark as he was light in eyes, hair color and skin tone. Several unfortunate idiots in the past had mentioned that Derek likely had Indian blood running through his veins with his coloring.

The fact that he was also a great tracker didn’t help contradict the label. More than one gun battle had resulted from words spoken in anger any time Derek won a hand of cards or beat someone fair and square in a horse race. The losers always tried to insult him as if that would help their foolish cause. It didn’t. And the fact that he was likely the fastest gun in the entire Dakota Territory didn’t help any bigoted opinions either.

Logan knew Derek’s parents weren’t from any Indian nation. As children, they’d traveled in the same wagon train headed for Kansas and California. With visions of rich gold stakes, large land claims or any number of inducements to go west and beat the oppressive living strictures in the east, neither family had actually made it to their ultimate western destination.

During the wagon train journey their families had been on years before, they’d forged a friendship that would never be broken with either time or distance. While their respective parents hadn’t gotten the dreams they’d sought, as orphans left to fend for themselves, Logan and Derek had eventually made a very good life for themselves in the Dakota Territory.

With a sluggishness Logan could barely tolerate without shooting off a few rounds of his gun for spite, the train finally pulled into the station. After several people departed and either went on home or met with others who’d gathered on the platform when they heard the train whistle, Logan and Derek still stood alone.

The train conductor stepped down from the cab of the passenger car behind a young couple with a small child in tow.

Logan approached him. “Please tell me that there are still more people about to come off of the train.”

The conductor harrumphed and ignored his statement. “Can you fetch the sheriff? There’s been an unfortunate accident that I need to report.”

“What happened?”

“A girl went missing off of the train. A witness claims she flung herself off the moving passenger car as we passed the last bridge, twenty miles back. Happened sometime before dawn.”

Logan felt a headache creep into his brain and a similar feeling socked him in the gut.

“What was the name of the jumper?”

“Not rightly sure I can divulge that just yet. I’ll wait for the sheriff, if you don’t mind?”

“Well, I do mind. What was her name?”

From behind them a very sweet and innocent sounding female voice said, “Her name was Miss Miranda Herrington.”