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Dakota’s Runaway Bride

I fled to Deadwood to escape my outlaw uncle, but marrying the town’s sheriff has put us both in his crosshairs—and now, love might be our only way out alive…

When Tess, the spirited niece of a notorious outlaw, flees her past by answering a mail-order bride ad, she hopes to start anew with the promise of a simple ranch life. But her plans derail when she arrives in Deadwood, South Dakota, to find that her intended husband had no idea she was coming.

Wade, a stoic lawman burdened by tragedy and obsessed with wiping out crime, has no intention of marrying anyone—let alone a woman with secrets of her own. But when a spirited stranger arrives in his life, her fiery defiance and hidden pain stir feelings he thought he had long buried.

As Tess struggles to keep her past a secret and Wade fights to keep his heart guarded, the danger lurking in Deadwood grows closer. Her uncle is determined to drag Tess back into his world and will stop at nothing to destroy the lawman standing in his way. Tess must decide if she can trust Wade with the truth about her past before her uncle destroys everything they’ve built…

Written by:

Western Historical Romance Author

4.3/5

4.3/5 (48 ratings)

Prologue

Sturgis, South Dakota

1868

 

Shadows flickered across the walls as the candle sputtered down to the wick. Tess glanced at the dying flame and clenched her jaw, gripping her mother’s hand even tighter as the last hints of sunlight faded from the far horizon.

There were no other candles in the house now; she could only ration one per day, and the recent storms had meant she’d burned through their stores already. They would just have to survive in the darkness.

If she survives at all.

The fingers against her own gave a gentle squeeze, and Tess pulled her chair forward so that she could see her mother’s face more clearly. It was deathly pale; the sweat that had clung to her brow for several days was dry. It wouldn’t be long now. The knowledge should have been a comfort; she wanted her mother to be out of her pain, but it filled her with fear so acute her chest tightened painfully.

“Tess?”

“I’m here, Ma,” she whispered. The room about them was silent. Even the world outside seemed to be holding its breath—a heavy quality to the air; everything unnaturally weighted and off balance. Tess’s breathing became more labored even as her mother grew weaker before her eyes. She had not expected it to happen so fast.

“He’s gonna look after you, baby girl,” her mother said softly.

“I know, Ma.”

“I’m so sorry, my angel.”

“Don’t Ma,” Tess replied, holding back tears as she forced a smile. “I’ll be alright. You made sure I can take care of myself.”

Her mother gave a faint smile. “I would have liked to take care of you for a little longer.”

Tess couldn’t speak. Ma’s eyes fluttered closed, and Tess waited, watching her chest rise and fall.

“Promise me,” the words were barely there now. “Promise me that you’ll be strong. You’re a clever girl; you keep a steady head on your shoulders and kindness in your heart, you hear me?”

“I will, Ma.”

Nothing could stop the tears now, and Tess wiped at her face, trying to be brave as she listened to the emptiness of the house around them.

“You’re a good girl. He’s going to care for you. You try to keep him straight, you hear?” Ma’s eyes found hers in the dark, and there was a softness and understanding there that Tess wanted to grasp and keep close to her forever. “I love you. Even when I’m gone, I’m gonna be at your side. Never doubt it. You are not… alone.”

Tess leaned forward as her mother’s face contorted into a sharp expression of pain. The fingers she clutched so tightly in her hand loosened and pulled away as the body in the bed convulsed in a sharp arc from the bed. Tess stared, unsure what was happening, but when Ma’s eyes closed with a long sigh, and she collapsed back into the pillows, the truth was clear enough.

Tess stood up abruptly, letting go of her hand, staring down at her mother and the stillness that had come over her. The night outside was pressing in at the windows, and it seemed to seep into the room, clutching at them as though dragging her mother’s soul away.

Tess was paralyzed beside the bed, her throat working, her heart pounding wildly. She stared at her mother’s limp fingers, eyes running over the chest she had watched breathing in rhythmic certainty for weeks now.

But it was utterly still.

Tess couldn’t breathe.

Please no. Not now.

She leaned over her, putting her ear close to her mother’s nose and mouth, willing her to still be breathing, but there was no sign of life at all.

Beside her, the candle spluttered for the final time as the wick finally gave out.

With an agonized moan, Tess ran from the room, hurtling through the narrow corridor and down the stairs as she lurched through the front door, drawing in gulping breaths as she tried to suppress the intense rush of nausea. Tears blurred her vision as she held tightly to the post, the wood splintering beneath her fingers.

She leaned heavily against the porch, trying to bring herself back to the present. Slowly, the sounds of the night were audible again. The sharp chatter of cicadas wings in the dry trees and the rush of wind over the dusty earth.

As her breathing became more even and her heart calmed a little, Tess looked up at the dark driveway ahead of her. The path seemed to stretch for miles into endless nothingness, and for a desperate moment, she was consumed by dread.

I’m all on my own now.

With an effort, she pulled herself upright, raising her chin to the night and drawing in a long breath as though readying herself for a fight. She was determined to stay strong, just as her mother had told her to.

God willing, Uncle Griffin would arrive soon, and until then, she had to shut up the house and get things ready for his arrival. She hitched up her skirts, turned to face the front door, and moved back inside, trying to ignore the shadows that threatened to engulf her.

***

Sheriff Winters was a good man. Her father had always said so. Tess watched him as he stood on their porch, squinting into the sun.

After her mother passed, Tess had been able to deal with most things about the house, but she hadn’t been able to go back in the bedroom. She had tried, but her courage had failed her every time.

When dawn finally arrived, she had simply walked into town, straight to the sheriff’s office, standing silently in the doorway. Tess hadn’t been able to utter a sound, but when the sheriff entered the room, he took one look at her, grabbed his hat, and followed her back up the hill.

Most people knew her mother hadn’t been doing well, and Sheriff Winters seemed to sense that things had gone south without exchanging a single word. Once he’d arrived, he’d seen to everything. He’d organized the burial, fetching the pastor and dealing with everything.

She looked up at him as the sheriff turned around on the porch, larger than life in the stillness behind him, glancing up at the sky. Tess knew he had already given up too much of his time to help her.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright, little lady?”

Tess nodded, uncertainty churning in her gut at what was to come. “He should be here any minute.”

The sheriff turned, spitting a wad of tobacco onto the ground and grimacing out at the driveway. His white mustache stretched down to his jaw, and white lines surrounded his eyes, scattered like scars against the tanned skin.

“Ain’t no one else can care for ya?” His voice was low and angry.

“No, sir. My mother asked Uncle Griffito come.”

“Griffin Kane,” the sheriff muttered the name like a curse. “I don’t feel comfortable lettin’ you go with him; I’ll tell you that for nothin’.”

“He’s my uncle. He’ll take care of me.” Those were the words her mother had repeated for the last days before her death. She said them now, praying they were true.

Tess felt a jolt of panic at the thought that he might not let her leave with him. She knew what happened to little girls who had no family to care for them. Orphan trains traveled the country, sending children into the West to God knew where. Griffin Kane might be a thief, but he was the only person she had to rely on now.

“That what your ma wanted, is it?” The sheriff skewered her with a tight stare.

“It is, sir.”

He nodded, spitting onto the ground again, shaking his head. “You do somethin’ for me then,” he said, crouching down to her level and looking her straight in the eye. “You watch yer back and don’t take no—” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Just take care o’ you.”

She nodded, and he bumped his knuckle against her chin affectionately before rising to his feet, knees cracking loudly as he did so. He took one last look at her before ambling down the porch steps and away across the dusty yard.

Tess watched him leave, feeling more alone than she ever had. She was so tired, she just wanted to sleep.

She looked down the road, wondering when her uncle would arrive and if she would recognize him.

I have never even met the man who’s comin’ to care for me.

Pa had spoken of ‘Griff’ all her life. When she was younger, it had started as gentle murmurings of concern around the dinner table, but as she grew, her parents had become less circumspect with their remarks about him.

Her uncle was a criminal; she had deduced that from an early age. Her mother and father, being God-fearing folk, had always kept in touch with him despite his many misdemeanors. Tess knew Ma wouldn’t have chosen Griffin to care for her if she had had any other choice, but as she got sicker, Tess had watched the decision become inevitable.

Pa had often said that Griffin was a ‘bad egg’ and lived a reckless life, but as Tess watched the dust swirl across the driveway in the sheriff’s wake, she was just grateful she wasn’t totally alone.

The sheriff had been kind, and many people in the town had expressed regret that she was now an orphan, but no one had stepped up to actually do anything to help her. She had to make the best of the life that had been thrown at her.

God always has a plan, Ma used to say. Sometimes you just gotta wait and find out what it is.

***

Many hours later, as the shadows lengthened over the yard and Tess sat with her bags packed on the stoop, she heard the snort of a horse in the distance.

Pushing her hair from her eyes, she stood and watched the wagon trundle up the hill toward her.

At least he came. I thought he might leave me here.

A man she assumed must be her Uncle sat in the driver’s seat, holding the reins and looking around him with a grim expression. He had a low-brimmed hat on his head, long hair that grew down to his shoulders, and a smart goatee that gave him a more sophisticated air than the beards worn by a lot of the men in Sturgis.

He looked kinder than I expected him to be. Don’t look much like a criminal, neither.

Tess watched the horse come to a slow stop as Griffin jumped down with surprising agility and approached her. He removed his hat and stood a few feet away, contemplating her for a minute until he took the final step and glanced up at the house.

“You must be Tess,” he said gently, and the kindness in his voice surprised her.

“I am. Are you Griffin Kane?”

He smiled sorrowfully. “Fact you have to ask ain’t a good sign, is it? But yes, I’m Griffin Kane. Friends call me Griff. I’d like you to do the same.”

His eyes skittered over the house behind her, lingering on the window of her mother’s room. “You lock everythin’ up? I can help you with it if you need.”

 

“It’s been seen to,” she said, sticking out her chin with determination.

He gave a low chuckle. It was a warm and friendly sound. “You look so like yer mother I can hardly separate the two of ya.”

Tess felt the sorrow rise within her, but she pushed it back down.

I need him to see me as a responsible person, not a needy child he has to take care of.

“You eaten?”

She nodded, but he eyed her skeptically. “You eaten today?”

She hesitated. She had eaten breakfast because there was a stale loaf of bread in the kitchen that she’d put out for the birds. She’d nibbled on the last of it while she waited. “No, sir.”

 

Griff nodded and walked back to the wagon, pulling out a sack and coming back toward her. “I thought you might not have had much in the way of food these last few days. I meant to get here sooner, but there was some trouble I had to take care of.”

 

He pulled out a little cloth bag of what looked like dried corn and nuts, handing it across to her. She looked down at it, her stomach grumbling at the sight and he gave her a crooked grin. His top lip caught on his tooth as he did it, and he winked at her. “I thought you’d be hungry. Growing girl like you.” He handed over a small packet tied with brown paper. “Beef jerky and some sausages for ya.” He gave her a crooked smile.

 

Tess opened it in amazement. She hadn’t eaten any meat for months. She and Ma had mostly survived on bread and dripping for three meals a day, not having enough money to go to market more than once a month.

She couldn’t help herself and dove straight into the food, taking a large bite of the jerky and chewing on it in relief.

Griff nodded and walked toward her, indicating that she should sit. “You take your time. We got a long journey back to Deadwood, and I don’t want you passin’ out on me.”

 

Tess sat silently, eating the sausage and jerky. It was the best-tasting thing she’d ever eaten, and she was more grateful to her uncle than she could express.

They sat without speaking for many minutes as Tess finished the food. Griff seemed content to stare out at the scenery, his shoulders hunched forward, his stocky frame perpetually poised as though ready to run. “I ain’t been here for a long time. I know I should have come by to meet ya before now. I’m sorry for it.”

 

Tess nodded, not sure what else to say.

“How old are you now?” he asked.

“Twelve.”

“By God, twelve years. I sure was sorry to hear about your mama.” Something flitted through his expression that was hard to read, but Tess could feel the weight of his words press upon her.

 

“You come back with me, and I’ll do my best for ya, alright?” His tone was surprisingly gentle.

She nodded again.

“It ain’t much, my spread, but I got some set by. Guess your pa ain’t said too many good things about me over the years.”

Tess hesitated.

How honest should I be with this man? He might be my uncle but I don’t know nothin’ about him.

“He prayed for you,” she answered honestly, and Griff threw back his head and cackled.

“I’ll bet he did. Yes, siree.”

She handed him some of the remaining slices of beef jerky, and he looked down at her with surprise. He nodded, taking it, and they both sat on the step, chewing on the salty meat and watching the dust settle across the landscape.

“You and me, we’re gonna be alright, my girl.”

Tess glanced at him. At that moment, it didn’t sound as though he was talking to her, his eyes glazed, looking far into the future—or maybe the past.

He slapped his thigh. “We should get goin’ before it’s dark out. Cayotes be circlin’ in the night. We’ll be back before then.”

She stood, picked up her bag, and headed down toward the wagon.

“That all you got?” he asked, looking at the small bag at her side.

Tess looked down at it and shrugged. “I figured I’d start fresh in Deadwood.”

He gave her a long stare, his dark eyes assessing her, then he smiled. “Tess Hart?” he murmured. “You’re gonna fit right in.”

Chapter One

Deadwood, South Dakota

1878

 

“I mean it, you ain’t goin’ into town without me.” Griff stood in front of the door, his chest held proud, his head down, and his swarthy face set in a hard frown.

 

“That’s ridiculous, Griff; I’m a grown woman; I can go into town by myself!”

“It ain’t safe.”

Tess stepped forward, gripping the back of the wooden chair beside the kitchen table for support. “Ain’t half the town controlled by your men anyhow?” she shot back.

 

Griff gave a derisive snort. “You think they’re gonna babysit you?”

“I don’t mean babysittin’. I wanna be left alone!”

Griff shook his head. “I have to get out to Harney’s and back before nightfall. I don’t want you goin’ near Deadwood alone, is that understood?”

His gaze was sparking hot with anger, but Tess refused to back down. He glowered at her, and they came to a familiar stalemate before; with an obvious effort, he sucked in a breath and forced himself to relax his posture a little.

He gave a deep sigh, the usual placatory tone coming into his voice. “Tess, you know I worry for you. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt or worse. That town ain’t no place for a lady alone. You wanna be mistaken for one of Swearegen’s painted ladies?”

Tess crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him.

“Come on now,” he continued, putting his hands up in front of him like he was fighting a bull. “What did you want in town anyhow?”

“I needed some more coffee. Caleb drank the last of it, and every time your boys come here, they clean us out.”

Griff relaxed at her words, scratching his head as though relieved by the simple request. “Well, I can grab some on the way home.”

 

“I want to get out, Griff. You can’t keep me prisoner.”

“I ain’t keepin’ you anywhere. If you go down to Deadwood alone anythin’ could happen to you. It’s gettin’ worse by the day.”

“Ain’t there a law against hurtin’ people?”

Griff froze, and his dark eyes moved to hers, the threat in them all too familiar. “Sure is, you wanna test how much the sheriff’ll care when you’re just another body in the gutter?”

His voice was low, vibrating, at the back of his throat, and Tess finally stepped back, her heart pattering in her chest.

“I have to keep you safe, don’t I?” Griff continued, his voice gentling a little. “That’s what I promised your mama. I can control my boys; they know you. But what with the robbery last week and the troubles in the Badlands rumbling out into the other districts, I don’t want you out there by yourself. Promise me you won’t go into Deadwood without me.”

Tess stared at him, is he playin’ me?

Griffin was a master at manipulation, and it had taken her many years to recognize the signs. Right now, he looked genuinely worried for her, but that could just be a means to an end for him.

“Alright,” she conceded. She knew better than the continue to argue, it never ended well for her. Griff dropped his head looking weary. He always looked tired and worn out these days.

His men were loyal to him, but only because he ruled them with an iron fist. He couldn’t afford to set a foot wrong. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smile outside the house. A body could tell Griff the funniest joke she’d ever heard, and he’d shrug a shoulder and nod. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness, and to him, that meant any emotion whatsoever.

She knew she was one of the few people who saw him feel anything, but that didn’t give her a lot of sympathy for his plight. Griff might have been a thief when her parents were alive, but he was a lot more than that now.

“You stay inside, don’t open the door to nobody, and you keep the windows locked.”

She watched him collect his gun and bullets from the drawer in the table. He always had a gun on him, but whatever he was doing tonight apparently required two.

The light from the windows glanced off the rounded surface of the bullets as he picked them up one by one and placed them in a pocket in his jacket. The Colt gleamed in his hand before he holstered it and covered it up with the flap of his coat.

He glanced up, his gaze a little sorrowful, and hunched a shoulder. “You got enough food for tonight?”

“Sure,” she said stiffly, not wanting to entertain any more talk.

I’m just glad I get an evenin’ along without your boys showin’ up and reckin’ the place.

Griff’s face was in shadow, but that calculating gaze still sent a chill through her. The creases around his eyes had deepened over the years; the twinkling expression she remembered from her early childhood long since faded. He watched her now as he might watch an unexploded mine—analytical and assessing—working out if she could be trusted. With a final shake of his head, he ambled out the front door.

Tess didn’t follow him.

It felt as though the walls of the house were slowly closing in on her. She pulled out a chair and sat down, listening as he reached his horse and cantered away up into the Black Hills beyond.

A familiar jolt of panic juddered through her as she felt him leave. Despite her fury at him, she hated being alone. The fear of it had started shortly after Ma had died and had never truly left her. She grew nervous the moment she was by herself; it had been that way the moment they’d arrived in Deadwood.

The house where they lived was larger than her parents’ home, which made it even harder to be alone. Built on a slant of a hill and looking out over the sprawling town of Deadwood, it boasted several rooms that Griff used for storage or for the gang members to sleep in when they fell down drunk. It was a good size compared to what a lot of people owned around these parts.

It would be, considerin’ he paid for it with blood money.

But Griff was right—Deadwood was getting worse. Since the gold rush, thousands of people had flooded into the town, and it was getting more crowded and violent by the day. A recent robbery on a cart had shaken a lot of people; the driver had been shot in the head and all his gold taken before law enforcement could reach him.

Law enforcement.

Tess scoffed at the notion. There was one sheriff and several lawmen who tried to keep order. She had heard whispers of it from Griff’s men. To her mind, the sheriff and the other officers did little to nothing to stop the violence that was spreading. Every night, as she lay in bed, she heard shrieking and gunfire from the main thoroughfare. And Griff might often be an instigator, but he’d always gone to great lengths to keep her out of harm’s way. The danger of death was almost more pressing than her fear of being left.

Even so, she wasn’t going to sit alone like a good girl all night waiting for him to return.

Once she was sure Griffin was long gone, she pushed open the front door and walked out onto the high porch. It was raised several feet above the ground, giving her a good view of the surrounding land.

From here, she could see the long ramshackle line of Deadwood, the main street with roads branching off on all sides like a long vein through the lands. The Gem Variety Theatre was far to the left, with the Badlands to the southeast. Even in the afternoon light, she could make out shapes and shadows walking through the town. People went about their business in plain sight at all hours of the day; it was the nature of that business that was more of a mystery.

Wandering to the edge of the porch, she leaned over to get a view of Lottie’s house at the bottom of the hill. There was a light burning upstairs, which meant that Lottie was home.

Tess’s gaze snapped back to the hillside.

Is this a test? For all I know Griff’s watchin’ to check I stay put.

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  • Great start to the book. Can’t wait to read it all.It was like a little taste of dessert before the full meal…

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