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A Marriage of Convenience to Save His Family

It started as a marriage of convenience to protect two innocent children. Little do they know that the flames of duty will spark a wildfire of unexpected emotions…

Devoted to her dear friend’s memory and her two orphaned charges, Ruby finds herself unexpectedly wedded to their estranged uncle, a man haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Victor stumbles into a twist of fate when he becomes the guardian of his niece and nephew. He needs to set aside the differences between him and Ruby and propose the only practical solution: a marriage of convenience.

Ruby and Victor’s worlds collide under the weight of tragedy. With a reluctant marriage of convenience, they navigate the challenges of parenthood and unexpected love while battling the unforgiving eyes of a judgmental town.

Written by:

Western Historical Romance Author

Prologue

Fort Worth, Texas, 1897

 

Thirty-two-year-old Victor Turner rolled over onto his back as the bright morning sunlight poured in through the open curtains. He raised his right arm, shielding his eyes in the crook of his elbow. Victor lay motionless on the floor for a few moments before he sat up and groaned. His head felt like it had been split in two with an ax.

Victor rolled onto his knees and reached for the hardwood chair to pull himself onto his feet. As he did, he rocked on his heels for a moment. The empty bottle of whiskey he’d been drinking the night before was where he’d left it, on the kitchen table.

Victor turned and stumbled across the room to the sink, gripping the white porcelain basin tightly with his hands. He exhaled shakily as he reached for the water pitcher, but it was empty. Victor picked up the pitcher and walked over to the back door. He pulled it open, stepping back for a moment as the light poured in from outside like some unwelcome visitor.

He turned, pitcher in hand, looking around the kitchen for his hat, but after a few moments, he gave up. Victor stepped outside, squinting as he walked over to the well. He took hold of the handle and pumped until water poured out of the spout and into the pitcher. Victor let go of the pump handle, bringing the pitcher up to his mouth as he gulped thirstily, hardly noticing the water pouring down his chin and onto his shirt.

When he had drunk enough, Victor filled the pitcher again and carried it back to the house. As he stepped into the kitchen, he pulled the door shut behind him. He put the pitcher down on the sink and walked over to the small, unmade cot in the corner of the room.

Victor sat down on the cot, the springs groaning under his weight. He ran his tongue across his teeth; his gums and lips didn’t feel so dry anymore, but his head was still pounding. Victor began to unbutton his shirt, the wet material clinging to his chest as he pulled it off and tossed it onto the floor. He sat back, about to lie down, when there was a knock at the door.

“Victor?” a deep voice said. “You in there?”

Victor said nothing, hoping that he would just go away, but there was another knock, so he pulled himself up off the cot and walked over to the door.

Victor threw open the door to find Orville Wheeler, his landlord, standing on the narrow porch. Orville glanced down at Victor’s bare chest for a moment before quickly looking up again.

Victor said nothing as he folded his hands across his chest, and the tall man took a step back, shaking his head as he whistled softly under his breath.

“You look like you’ve been chewed up and spit out by a twister,” he said.

“Look, if this is about the rent, I will get it to you,” Victor said. “Just as soon as I can find work.”

Orville glanced over Victor’s shoulder. “Well, you ain’t gonna find work at the bottom of a bottle.”

Victor said nothing as Orville reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white envelope.

“This came for you,” he said, holding it out to Victor.

Victor stared at the envelope for a moment and then took it, sighing.

“Look,” Orville said, his expression softening. “Maybe you’d be better off heading back north? Back to your people.”

Victor said nothing as he slipped the envelope into his pocket.

“When the wind’s blowin’ hard against you, there ain’t nothin’ like leanin’ on family,” Orville added.

Victor took a step back inside. “I’ll get you your money.”

Without another word, Victor closed the front door. He walked back across the room to the small wooden dresser and removed the envelope, tossing it down. He then walked back toward the cot, but as he did, he caught sight of his reflection in the window.

His shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair was tousled and knotted, and his blue eyes were red and swollen. He could not remember the last time he’d shaved and now sported a short, scraggly beard.

Victor glanced down at his bare chest for a moment, his eyes lingering on the scars, which had faded but would never disappear. His eyes traveled over the crooked, jarring lines of his sternum, collarbone, and rib cage. Bones that had been broken and shattered under the hooves of a horse and then put imperfectly back together by the hands of a human.

Victor reached over and pulled the thin curtain over the window before he turned away, walking over to the cot and lying down. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his head, but after a few moments, he sighed and sat up again. He threw his legs over the side of the cot and stood up. He walked back across the small room to the dresser and picked up the envelope again.

Over the last twelve years that Victor had lived in Fort Worth, he had received letters from his younger brother, Danny, every few months. In the letters, his brother would write about the ranch, about their uncle, his wife, and the children, but he’d end every letter with a plea for Victor to return home. He’d write how much he missed him, how much help they needed on the ranch now that their Uncle Archie was getting older. Victor had replied to the letters at first, but eventually he’d stopped, because he knew he’d never be able to write the only words that Danny wanted to hear—that he was coming home.

Victor turned the envelope over in his hands; the handwriting didn’t belong to Danny but to his uncle. Victor frowned. In all the years he’d lived in Fort Worth, Uncle Archie had never written to him. He hadn’t approved of Victor leaving and had made his feelings perfectly clear, so why was he writing now? Victor carried the envelope to the kitchen table, retrieving a sharp knife as he did. He sat down and slid the edge of the blade under the lip of the envelope, edging it along the top. Victor removed the single piece of paper from the inside and unfolded it.

 

Victor,

 

Danny and Lillian have died in a house fire. The children have been sent to an orphanage. You need to come home.

 

Uncle Archie.

 

Victor read the words again and then again, but it was as if they were written in a language that he did not understand. How could Danny and his wife be dead? It had been twelve years since he’d seen his brother, but in his mind, he was still that twelve-year-old boy with gangly legs and sticky-out ears.

Victor put down the piece of paper, his heart in his throat. He sat still for a moment and then got up, fetching a half-bottle of whiskey from his saddle bag. He pulled open the cork and brought the bottle to his lips. He closed his eyes as the amber liquid bit at his throat.

He carried the bottle back over to the table, placing it down beside the letter from his uncle.

He’d never planned to return to Durango, and yet now, what choice did he have? After years of begging him to return, his little brother was finally getting his wish, and all it had taken was him going off and getting himself killed.

Victor picked up the bottle and took another long sip. He then put it down and got up again. He walked over to the small dresser, pulled open the drawer, and started to pack.

 

***

 

Victor brought his horse to a stop at the ranch gate. It had taken him ten days to ride from Fort Worth to Durango. He’d ridden hard, stopping only to camp under the stars at night, but he’d made it back.

Victor reached into his saddle bag and removed the small silver flask. He opened it and took a long drink. Then, he returned the flask to the saddle bag and clicked his tongue as his horse set off through the gates and up the road. A cool breeze was blowing above his head; the green needles swayed from side to side, and the air smelled sweet. Ponderosa Ranch was named for the avenue of pine trees that led up from the ranch entrance all the way to the house and, then split, encircling the entire property. Their uncle liked to say that nature had built its very own boundary around the property.

Victor had been thirteen years old when he’d come to live on Ponderosa Pine ranch with his little brother. Uncle Archie had taken them in after their parents had died. He was not their real uncle, but he’d been best friends with their father. Uncle Archie had lived nearby when Victor and Danny were growing up but had moved to Durango when Victor was ten.

As the ranch house came into view, Victor pulled on the reins, and the horse stopped. He climbed down, his scuffed boots landing with a soft thud on the hard ground.

He paused for a moment, looking around. The place had changed some in the past twelve years. The stables had been rebuilt, and the barn painted red. The stone ranch house looked much the same, however, with its pitched roof and wide front porch. A swing was hanging in the front garden, and an old rubber ball sat abandoned under the wild rose bush.

Victor reached into his saddlebag and removed the flask again. He took another two swigs of whiskey before he slid the flask into his back pocket. He then left his horse to graze and headed toward the house. As he climbed up onto the porch, something caught his eye, and he stopped; wedged between two wooden boards was a glass marble. Victor bent over and picked it up; it was cool and smooth to the touch. He held it in the palm of his hand, his mind drifting back to those long, hot summer afternoons when Danny would beg Victor to play marbles with him. Danny had loved those silly glass balls while Victor had no time for them; all he ever wanted was to be on the back of a horse.

Victor closed his hand tightly around the marble, wishing Danny were still here to ask him to play a game. He slid it into his front pocket and walked across the porch to the front door. As he reached for the brass doorknob, he stopped. Should he knock? It felt strange to do so, but was this really still his home?

He hesitated a moment longer and then turned the knob and stepped inside. The air was cool, and the place smelled of hot stone and wood, just like Victor remembered it. As he stepped inside, the floorboards creaked a familiar welcome; otherwise, the house was quiet. Victor walked down the hallway, glancing into the rooms as he walked, but the place hadn’t changed.

Then, Victor heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. As he stepped into the doorway, he found a woman on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. She had her back to him, but she was singing softly to herself. Victor watched her for a long while, appreciating the curves of her body as she worked. He pulled out the flask from his back pocket and took another sip; as he did, the woman stood up and turned around, jumping as she spotted him leaning against the doorframe.

“Goodness,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

“Sorry,” Victor apologized, stepping into the room.

The young woman was tall, with dark reddish-brown hair and pale skin. She had a light scattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, but what was most extraordinary about her appearance was her eyes. She had one green eye and one blue.

“Who are you?” she asked, stepping back.

“I could ask you the same,” Victor said, taking a step forward as if it were a dance.

“If you are looking for food, there’s some fresh bread in the pantry,” she said. “Why don’t you take it and be on your way.”

The woman thought he was some kind of vagabond, but he supposed he could not blame her. After a ten-day ride, he probably looked as bad as he felt.

“I am not a beggar,” Victor said. “My name is Victor Turner.”

The young woman said nothing for a moment, but then a wave of recognition passed over her face. “You’re Danny’s brother,” she said.

Victor nodded. “And who might you be?” he asked again.

“My name is Ruby,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “Miss Ruby Patterson, if you please.”

Victor raised his eyebrows and smiled. He did not know this young woman, but he liked her face, and it had been a long few days on the road.

“Tell me, Miss Ruby Patterson, does my uncle pay you for your services?” he asked.

“He doesn’t pay me,” Ruby said, frowning. “I am just here to help.”

Victor nodded, taking another step forward, the flask clutched in his hand. He held her gaze as he smiled.

“I was wondering if you’d be able to help me,” he said suggestively. “I’d be willing to pay you, of course—”

Without warning, Ruby took three steps forward and raised her hand. Although his reflexes were slower than they used to be, Victor caught her wrist just in time.

“Let go of me,” Ruby insisted, pulling her wrist from his grasp.

Victor let her go, and she stepped back.

“How dare you suggest such a thing of me,” Ruby said, her eyes flashing.

“Oh, come on,” Victor said, bringing his flask to his lips. “I’ve met plenty of girls like you in my time, Miss Ruby Patterson. Kitchen maids by day and dance hall girls by night. You don’t have to pretend—”

“I am no such thing,” Ruby said, her voice rising in outrage. “And I do not have to stand here and be insulted by some drunk, dirty cowboy.”

Without another word, Ruby turned to go, but Victor stepped to the side, blocking her path.

“Move,” Ruby insisted.

“Make me,” Victor teased.

Ruby exhaled in frustration as she tried in vain to get around Victor, and when it was clear that wasn’t going to work, she took a step back, her cheeks pink.

“You have one more chance to get out of my way or—”

“Or what?” Victor prompted.

Ruby opened her mouth to respond, but before she had a chance, heavy boots sounded down the hallway, and Victor turned to see his Uncle Archie stepping into the kitchen doorway.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

Chapter One

Durango, Colorado, 1897

 

Ruby dropped her slender shoulders when she saw Archie standing in the doorway, and Victor quickly slipped the silver flask into the back pocket of his dirty denim jeans. Archibald Holden was a tall man, with a head of thick gray hair and a beard to match. He had brown eyes and a proud nose.

“Uncle Archie,” Victor said, clearing his throat as he tucked a strand of dirty-blond hair behind his ear. “I received your letter, and I’ve come home.”

“I can see that,” Archie said coldly as he entered the kitchen.

The room was silent for a moment, but the tension between the two of them was palpable.

“And I see you’ve met Miss Patterson?” Archie said, turning to look at Ruby, his expression softening.

“Yes,” Victor said, keeping his eyes down. “We’ve met.”

Ruby frowned at him, still quite unable to believe that this man was Danny’s brother. When she’d found him standing in the doorway, she’d been sure he was a homeless beggar looking for food, or perhaps some kind of petty thief.

“Well, you are here now,” Archie said. “So let’s not waste any more time.”

Archie walked across the kitchen to the wooden table and sat down, gesturing for Victor and Ruby to join him. As they did, Victor looked at Ruby, frowning.

“What is it?” Archie asked impatiently.

“It’s just that, why is the maid sitting at the table?” Victor asked.

Ruby turned to glare at him but before she had a chance to correct him, Archie stepped in.

“The maid?” Archie asked, his wrinkled brow wrinkling further. “Ruby is not the maid. She was Lillian’s best friend.”

At the mention of Lillian’s name, Ruby’s heart stuck in her throat. She still couldn’t believe what had happened, that they were just gone from this earth.

“Oh,” Victor said. “Right, well, there may have been some confusion—”

“You confused me for a dance hall girl,” Ruby accused.

Archie shot Victor a sharp look, and he shrugged sheepishly.

“You should take it as a compliment—”

“That’s enough,” Archie said, his tone hard. “You’re drunk; I could smell you all the way from the front door.”

Victor opened his mouth and then closed it again, dropping his gaze.

“If it weren’t for the children, I’d send you to the barn to sleep it off with the pigs,” Archie continued. “But you are the only one who can get them out of the orphanage, so pull yourself together, Victor.”

Ruby glanced at Victor, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He’d swaggered into the kitchen not fifteen minutes ago, and now he looked like a schoolboy being told off by the headmaster. Ruby could not help but feel quite pleased to see Victor taken down a peg or two.

“Right,” Archie said, clearing his throat. “So the situation is as follows: the twins have been taken to the orphanage by Martha Simmers, and we need to get them back.”

Victor frowned. “That’s the part I didn’t understand in your letter,” he said. “You’ve been looking after us for years, so why were the twins sent to an orphanage?”

Archie sighed, shaking his head. “Because this Simmers woman had documentation signed by your brother giving her guardianship.”

“But the document is a lie,” Ruby insisted.

Victor turned to her, frowning. “And how do you know?”

“Because Lillian and Danny wanted Archie and me to be Luke and May’s guardians,” she said.

“And do you have the documents to prove it?” Victor asked.

“No,” Ruby admitted. “But they told us, on many occasions.”

“Well, it might have helped if my baby brother had thought to put it in writing—”

“Don’t speak badly about Danny,” Archie warned. “I won’t have it under my roof, not one single bad word.”

The table fell silent for a few moments. Ruby looked between the two men, who were both stone-faced.

“So we get the children back, and then what?” Victor asked.

Archie sighed, sitting back in his chair. “I don’t know,” he said. “But all that matters right now is getting them home.”

“All right,” he said. “Then let’s go.”

Victor got up, but Archie and Ruby didn’t move.

“What?” Victor said. “I thought you said it was urgent?”

“You can’t go like that,” Ruby said. “No one in their right mind would hand children over to a man who looked like you.”

Victor frowned as he looked down at his dirty denim jeans and threadbare shirt, which was missing two buttons.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll get cleaned up.”

Without another word, Victor turned and left the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway and out of sight. Ruby turned her head to look at Archie, who sagged in his chair, the corners of his mouth turned down.

“Hey,” Ruby said, reaching across for his hand. “Are you all right?”

“I barely recognize him,” Archie said, shaking his head. “And I know it’s been twelve years, but I barely recognize that man.”

Ruby squeezed Archie’s hand sympathetically. It had been a rough couple of weeks with losing Danny and Lillian, and the children being torn from their arms so unexpectedly. Now Victor showed up looking like a ghost. It was no wonder poor Archie was at his wit’s end.

“It will all be all right,” Ruby said, smiling at him in encouragement. “I am sure after he wipes off some of the grime, you’ll be able to recognize him again.”

Archie chuckled softly. “You’re a good girl,” he said, patting her hand. “I don’t know what I would have done all these weeks without you.”

“We are going to get Luke and May back,” Ruby said. “And then things will be better, you’ll see.”

Archie tried to smile, but Ruby could see the worry in his eyes.

“How about a nice cup of tea?” she offered. “While we wait.”

“That would be nice,” Archie agreed, nodding.

Ruby let go of his hand and got up from the table. She set about putting the large copper kettle on to boil on the coal stove. As she did, she glanced out the window and saw a pair of purple finches bathing in a small puddle left after the rain last night. As she watched them, her mind drifted back to the day she met Lillian, years ago.

Ruby had been on her way into town when she found Lillian crouched on the main road, cradling a baby bird between her hands. It had fallen from the nest and somehow managed to survive, and Lillian was determined to get the bird back into its nest before its mother returned. She’d talked Ruby into climbing the tree, as she was terrified of heights. Somewhat reluctantly, Ruby hitched up her skirts and climbed the tree, returning the baby bird to its nest. However, on the way down, she lost her footing and fell, twisting her ankle. Lillian had felt so badly that she insisted Ruby come home with her so she could tend to her ankle, and that was that; they’d been best friends ever since.

“There we go,” Ruby said, handing Archie a strong cup of tea.

“Thanks,” he said as he took from her, smiling gratefully.

Ruby took her seat beside him, and they sat in silence for a while, sipping the hot, sweet tea as the late morning sun streamed in through the large kitchen window.

As Ruby took her last sip of tea, Victor arrived back in the kitchen. He’d changed his clothes and was now dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a dark blue cotton shirt. Victor had brushed his dirty-blond hair and scrubbed the dirt from his neck, hands, and face. Ruby could not deny that with his strong jaw and dangerously blue eyes, he was dangerously handsome. Yet the dark rings under his eyes and the scruffy beard on his chin suggested to her that he took no pride in his appearance, which was a great pity for such a good-looking man.

“All right,” Archie said, getting up from his chair with a wince. “Let’s get going.”

“I’ll just fetch my bonnet,” Ruby said.

“Great, she’s coming too,” Victor said sarcastically.

Ruby threw him a withering glance as she fetched her bonnet from the hook behind the kitchen door.

“Let’s go,” Archie repeated.

He walked across the kitchen, leaving the house with Ruby following behind him. As she did, she glanced over her shoulder to see Victor muttering something under his breath. They walked across the backyard, past the vegetable patch, and toward the barn.

“Victor,” Archie said. “Help me hitch the horse up to the buggy.”

Victor hesitated a moment. “I think I’ll take my horse, if that’s okay with you.”

Ruby said nothing, but she agreed with Victor; she had no desire to be seated beside him all that way to the orphanage. It was a good five miles to the Silver Pine Haven, which was located on the edge of the town.

“We’ll all ride together,” Archie said plainly.

Victor opened his mouth to argue, but Archie was already walking away toward the stables.

“You know you could at least pretend you’re happy to be home,” Ruby said.

“Excuse me?” Victor said, turning to her.

“I said you could at least pretend to be happy to be back in Durango,” Ruby repeated. “For your uncle’s sake.”

Victor sighed. “Look, you may have been friends with Lillian, but don’t presume to tell me what to do.”

“You know, people in town used to talk about you,” Ruby said, her tone full of disbelief. “How all the young men wanted to be you, and all the young women wanted to be with you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” Victor said shortly.

Just then, Archie arrived back, leading the large bay cart horse. Ruby stepped aside as they hitched him up to the buggy. When they were done, she climbed up onto the seat and slid into the middle. Archie sat down to her right in the driver’s seat while Victor sat down on her left, and she found herself pressed against him; his skin was warm through the thin material of his shirt.

Archie clicked his tongue softly, and the bay cart horse set off. Victor kept his eyes straight ahead, his shoulders stiff. Clearly, he was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t the only one. Still, they needed him. He was the only one who could get the children back, and in that moment, that was the only thing that Ruby cared about.

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  • Looking forward to meeting the twins and of following the details of how they solve their differences to become a family.

  • omgosh, I’m hooked already!! I’m looking forward 2 fireworks between Ruby & Victor!! can’t wait till they get the kids!!!

  • I like where your character development is going. A seemingly unredeemable, filthy drunk is needed to save his brother’s children from an orphanage. There are two good people who want to care for the children, but they are powerless to get them because they are not blood relatives.

    This story can go in so many different directions. I look forward to reading how it progresses.

    • There are for sure some strong characters here! Thank you for the support, I hope you find everything to your liking 💗

  • BRING IT ON!!
    Ready to continue this story! Thank you for the peek into your next book And my new page turning friends♡

  • Great introduction to the book. Strong characters with strong personalities. I am looking forward to reading the book.

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