Pony Express Christmas Bride. Rhonda Gibson

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Pony Express Christmas Bride - Rhonda Gibson Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical

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nodded. “I’m sorry that Philip lied to you.”

      “Me, too. But that doesn’t help me now.”

      “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Thomas looked to the doorway where Hazel had gone.

      Was he wishing he’d followed her? Josephine sighed. “Was that all you wanted to say?”

      He looked back at her. “No. Were you telling the truth? Is your uncle going to force you to marry someone to pay off his gambling debt?”

      “Yes.” Her voice trembled. Had he heard the fear she felt?

      Josephine prayed she could make him change his mind about marrying her. “The man my uncle wants me to marry is old, smells like rotting food and is willing to take me as payment for my uncle’s debts.” She stopped, her gaze met his and she involuntarily shivered at the thought of someone like the gambler ever touching her. “He makes my skin crawl when he looks at me,” Josephine admitted.

      Thomas moved his hand to the right side of his face, where a faint line ran from his temple to his chin, and asked, “And marrying me would be better?”

      Josephine smiled at him. “Well, you aren’t old and I can’t smell you from here. So I think so.” When he didn’t smile back, she sighed. “Look, I just need to be married. I’m not asking you to be a real husband. I can take care of myself. In a few months I’ll be twenty-one and out of my uncle’s and Mr. Grossman’s reach. But until then, I need to be legally married so that my uncle will no longer be my guardian.”

      He continued to study her. “What Philip did wasn’t right.” Thomas cleared his throat and said a little louder, “Hazel, would you join us, please?”

      She immediately entered the room, carrying a plate with a slice of cake on it. “The coffee is taking a little longer to brew, but Jo can start with the cake.” She handed the plate to Josephine.

      Thomas grinned. Was he grinning because Hazel had shortened her name to Jo? Josephine had noticed the woman had shortened both Thomas’s and Philip’s names, too. Maybe this was her way of showing affection to the people around her. As long as she didn’t call her Josie, it was fine.

      “Thank you.” Josephine set the plate down on the table in front of her. “I’ll wait for the coffee.”

      “Hazel, can Josephine stay with you for a few days?” Thomas asked.

      Disappointment and fear hit her like a sack full of apples. Josephine pleaded, “Thomas, I don’t have a few days. If you aren’t going to marry me, I need to move on. My uncle is probably already halfway here.”

      Hazel nodded, ignoring Josephine’s outburst. “She is welcome to stay as long as she likes.”

      Thomas nodded. “Good. Who knows how bad this storm may be, but if we can, we’ll head to town tomorrow.”

      “So you are going to marry her?” Hazel asked with a wide grin.

      “I am,” Thomas answered. He stood to his feet. Looking down at Josephine, he said, “This storm may last a few days. If that happens, we’ll go to town and find the preacher as soon as the weather clears. The good news is that it will stop your uncle from coming for you right away.”

      Relief flooded her. She was getting married just as she’d planned, but for some reason, Josephine couldn’t feel happy about it. Could it be because Thomas was only marrying her since he felt forced to do so? Was it possible Thomas would change his mind after he’d had a little time to think about it? The prospect of marrying a complete stranger didn’t appeal to her, either, but what choice did she have? She shoved the fear down that trickled up her spine and into her hairline. No, she’d not borrow trouble. But pray that Thomas was a man of his word.

      * * *

      The snow fell continuously as Thomas rode home. Philip’s horse snorted and pranced toward the barn. Thomas let the horse gallop as he thought about the past few hours.

      Thanks to Philip, Thomas would be marrying a girl he hardly knew. Thomas had to admit the prospect didn’t rankle as much as it had at first. He didn’t know when he’d seen a prettier girl. Her red hair looked soft enough to touch, but he hadn’t dared. Her pretty brown eyes revealed every emotion that flowed through her. Was she aware of how expressive her eyes were?

      Josephine had said that all she wanted was his name and the right to claim she was married. Would that be enough? She’d also said she was almost twenty-one, two years older than him. But she was still young enough to want someone she could love. Still young enough to want a house full of children someday.

      He’d never be someone she could love. His scarred face had caused girls to giggle and laugh at him. While living in the orphanage, he’d been tormented because of the scar. At the age of eleven, he’d had a crush on one of the girls, only to have her scorn him with cruel words. You’re so ugly, no one will ever want to adopt you. Those words had stuck with him and they could still do damage if he dwelled on them.

      If Philip, who’d been his best friend at the orphanage, hadn’t said that Rebecca and John Young couldn’t adopt him unless they took Thomas, too, then he would never have been adopted.

      He dismounted in front of the lean-to, where his own horse waited to be fed. Philip’s gelding hurried into the warmth of the small shed. Thomas fed both horses and unsaddled Philip’s.

      Besides the fact that he bore a hideous scar on his face, Thomas also dealt with the fact that he’d never know who his real parents were or where they had come from. He had no idea who he really was. Would any of that matter to Josephine someday?

      His fingers moved to the scar. The caregivers at the orphanage had said he’d been dropped off on the doorstep with no identification and the wound on his small face. How was it that a baby of a few months could get such a gash?

      Rebecca Young said that the scar was hardly visible, but Thomas knew it was there. He could feel the light groove with his fingertips. Earlier, Thomas had sensed Josephine’s gaze on it and he figured that she thought the scar was revolting. She’d shivered just looking at him.

      Thomas knew he’d marry Josephine and stay married to her for as long as she wanted. But he vowed he’d never allow himself to believe that she’d care for him. With that thought in mind, Thomas headed for the house.

      The snow continued its slow, mesmerizing drift to the ground. In a couple of months Christmas would arrive, and from the looks of the weather right now, it might be a white Christmas. It was hard to believe that he’d spend the holidays as a married man.

      Thomas shook the snow off his collar. He stomped his feet on the porch to remove the packed slush from his boots. The question tore through him again. Was he out of his mind agreeing to marry a total stranger?

      What would it be like to spend every day with someone other than Philip, especially a female? Would she expect him to be at her beck and call?

      He opened the door and entered the warmth of the cabin. It really was more of a shack, but he and Philip had gladly called the place home. Now he wondered if it would be good enough for Josephine. Would she hate it? Think it ugly? Would she soon be demanding they get a place of their own?

      Philip turned from the stove. His eyes danced. “Sorry I sprung her on

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