A Bargain For A Bride (Westward Hearts Book 8) Read online




  An Bargain for a Bride

  Westward Hearts

  Blythe Carver

  Contents

  A Bargain for a Bride

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  A Bargain for a Bride

  Cate Reed has one ambition. One dream. One goal. A theater in Carson City. How can they not have one? So uncivilized. This dream of hers goes against the grain of her sisters, and it seems of most polite society.

  Polite society be damned, Cate Reed’s going to get her theater, come hell or high water. Or a man who has a bargain.

  Cate Reed’s made a deal with a devil. A devilishly handsome stranger named Landon Jenkins.

  Landon Jenkins needs an actress to perform the role of a lifetime. Is Cate that actress? And will she get what she wants or what she needs?

  1

  Cate walked the length of the room and back, her hands clasped behind her.

  This was perhaps the most important speech she would ever make, one which could affect the lives of Carson City’s citizens for generations to come. Nothing less than the future of herself and those many unseen people weighed heavy in the back of her mind as she stood, poised to deliver what she had worked so hard to prepare.

  She cleared her throat, wishing her heart would not race so. Was she not an actress? Was she not a gifted orator? She had practiced delivering grand speeches before her sisters hundreds of times, perhaps thousands. This was nothing more than that.

  With this in mind, she threw back her shoulders and imagined herself on stage. Prepared to hold an entire audience in her able grasp.

  She came to a stop, lifted her chin and began. “Carson City is no longer a mere stopping point for travelers on their way to California, nor is it a town full of miners and those wishing to make their fortune in the mountains. Carson City is the capital of the state of Nevada and has grown exponentially in the last few decades. Its citizens come from all walks of life, both the highest echelons of society and those of decidedly lesser means. Travelers arrive every day on the train, both for business and pleasure. It is a bustling, thriving city, one which may not yet rival the size or sprawl of, say, New York City or Boston, but it very well could someday.”

  She thought that established her intentions quite admirably well. It was true that the town she had come to love was nowhere near as impressive as the larger cities on the East Coast, or even San Francisco to the west, but it was growing every day and had come such a long way since its humble beginnings.

  It was enough to stir pride in her breast, the thought of how hard its citizens had fought to build the city into what it currently was.

  “And just how does a city earn a reputation as illustrious as the cities I just named? The answer is twofold. First, it must establish itself as a center of business. This is what draws newcomers. The promise of prosperity. Farmers, ranchers, bankers and merchants, people from all walks of life have come here to make their home. There is opportunity here, especially with the advent of transcontinental rail travel. There is another hotel on the verge of opening in town, and new homes rising all the time. There is no reason for a man—or woman—of intelligence and industriousness to not make a fortune under such conditions.”

  She inhaled, then exhaled and lifted her brows.

  Then she continued, “This leads me to the second quality a city must possess to rise above its humble origins, which is the presence of culture. Theater, music, art, and literature. It is these noble pursuits which men and women turn to once their day’s work is through. It is through beauty and artistic stimulation that the human experience is elevated above those of mere animals. It is what separates us from them. We must have some grander vision after which to pattern our lives, and it is through the enjoyment of music and literature, and of painting and of sculpture that we derive that grand vision. It is through the vision of others and through their talent and dedication that life becomes more than simply the pursuit of a living. It is the reason we live at all.”

  Her heart always swelled when she reached that portion of her speech.

  “Unfortunately, at this time, Carson City is sorely lacking when it comes to artistic vision. There is no cultural stimulation to be found. No opera house, no theater. No museums, no theatrical societies, no opportunity for arts and culture to thrive. Just as grass requires water and sunlight to grow, so do the human mind and heart require stimulation through the arts. By depriving Carson City’s citizens of such stimulation, we deprived them of true satisfaction. Without a higher ideal after which to pattern one’s life, it appears as though Mr. Henry Lawrence’s saloon is the only refuge a man has from his work. Is it any wonder, then, that this establishment is so popular? When we give our citizens no other recourse through which to enjoy their leisure time?”

  She shook her head, clicking her tongue mournfully. “This is why I propose the building of a theater in Carson City. This theater could not only mount dramatic productions, but it might serve as a music hall, a location in which town meetings could be held. In essence, a central hub around which Carson City’s culture will spin. Perhaps the time will come one day when saloons and other such rough establishments no longer have a place here, for citizens will be too high-minded to ever stoop to such low diversions.”

  “I have attended theatrical productions in Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. The theaters in these cities are dazzling, drawing audiences like moths to a flame. It is in these hallowed halls that the audience is able to experience the fullness of life, the breadth, and depth of human emotion. They are able to lose themselves in a performance, to touch for a moment upon the fullness of the human condition, that which binds us together no matter our differences. They might even be able to understand life from the point of view of another, and they might carry that knowledge and understanding with them after the play has concluded.”

  She drew a deep breath, confident now.

  “I believe we ought to see to it that our citizens are granted the same opportunities as those in these cultural metropolises. I believe both they, and the city as a whole, will be all the better for it. That their children and grandchildren will thank us for having the vision it took to make this dream a reality. The funding invested in this project will reap rewards far into the future. All we need now is the investment required to begin such a tremendous undertaking, and the bravery to see it through. Thank you so much for your valuable time and consideration in this matter.”

  She let out a long, shaky breath, a wide smile spreading across her face now that the deed was done.

  “Well? What do you think?” She looked at baby Edward, seated in the center of her bedroom floor, who had so patiently listened as she practiced the speech she planned to deliver to her sisters.

  He blinked, then inserted a thumb into his mouth.

  “You’re right,” she decided before picking him up settling him on one hip. “Perhaps it should be a bit shorter, but I can’t imagine removing any one part without losing the emotional impact. It is e
motional impact which sways people. You must keep that in mind.”

  She walked him back and forth, going over and over the speech while doing her best to foresee any qualms her sisters might raise. They would have numerous objections, naturally. She was well accustomed to this by now, along with their disdain for her chosen profession.

  It would not be easy to convince them to invest in the building of a theater once they came into ownership of the ranch and therefore were able to access the bank accounts their father had set up long ago. They would no longer need to rely upon the money their mother had left and might use it for this, instead.

  From her perspective, this was an investment. As owners of a theater, they could only hope to reap dividends far into the future. After all, one of Mother’s favorite lessons was the folly of placing all of one’s eggs in a single basket.

  Cate had always suspected, once she was old enough to understand, that her mother had been speaking from personal experience when she’d repeated this adage to her daughters. After all, she had thrown caution to the wind by cutting ties with her family and moving to Carson City upon meeting and marrying Richard Reed.

  She’d staked her entire future upon their union. A union which had dissolved after less than ten years.

  She has been fortunate that her family wealth was still present and accessible upon returning to the east, but there had been a few rather tense months in which even that had been uncertain. Only after admitting the folly of her marriage had she been granted access to her inheritance.

  Cate imagined how this must have stung her pride, as Cordelia had always been a rather proud woman. But she had done it for her children, if not for herself, and afterward had made certain to teach her daughters to never rely on any one person or one set of circumstances to provide for the future.

  She knew that if she put it to them this way, never mentioning her breathless desire to step out onstage and captivate audiences, they would see the good sense in her idea. They simply had to.

  “After all, the townsfolk need a bit of culture,” she reminded Edward before leaving the room and descending the stairs.

  Rachel and Phoebe were in the kitchen, chattering excitedly. Cate assumed they were both in such high spirits thanks to their impending trip to town. They would spend the next three days with their husbands and were as giddy as schoolgirls in anticipation of their reunion.

  “My goodness,” she teased as she entered the kitchen. “One would think you’ve been apart for weeks rather than only a few days.”

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Wait until it is your turn,” she warned. “A single hour will feel like an eternity.”

  Rachel nodded in agreement. “I would think that as an actress who is so understanding of the pains and joys and struggles of those around them, you wouldn’t tease us like this.”

  “Perhaps it is all your fault,” she suggested. “If any of you had taken me the least bit seriously in all these years, I might be a bit more understanding now. How do you like it?”

  The pair of them merely exchanged a look.

  Cate added, “You know I’m not serious. It disturbs me greatly for your sakes that you cannot be with your husbands all the time. Just think, it will only be another six months.”

  “It may as well be an eternity,” Phoebe muttered.

  Holly entered the kitchen, looking distracted, before finding Cate holding Edward. “There you are,” she said, coming to them with her arms extended. “I’ve looked all over the house for the child. I should’ve known you were practicing your theater speech in front of him.”

  Cate blushed painfully. “Were you listening at the door?”

  “I didn’t have to. I merely needed to be on the second floor, where your voice rang out. You do not need to shout, you know.” Holly pulled a curl from Edward’s fist. He seemed to enjoy pulling hair and did not care whose dark brown locks he happened to be holding.

  She blushed harder than ever. “I was shouting?”

  “We could hear you from down here,” Rachel smirked.

  “My favorite part was the one where you talked about the human condition, and how a theatrical performance can unite an audience in spite of their differences,” Phoebe giggled.

  This was too much. “Once again, none of you take me seriously.”

  “It isn’t that we don’t take you seriously,” Holly assured her with a pat on her shoulder. “It’s simply that your vision is a bit grander than your means. The building of a theater is a tremendous undertaking, which will require an entire team of architects, builders—”

  “To say nothing of the work it takes to put on a performance,” Phoebe added. “There are people who build the sets, people who arrange for costuming and hairdressing and facepaint.”

  “And the selling of tickets, and the printing of handbills,” Rachel supplemented.

  “You wish to create an entire business,” Holly concluded. “You are not simply erecting a building.”

  “This is something we can all do together,” Cate insisted. “Once we have ownership of the ranch, it isn’t as if our lives will change so very much. Lewis will continue to oversee operations. Roan will train the horses. The ranch hands will go about their work. We will still have nothing to do.”

  “Nothing to do?”

  Cate turned, her heart sinking at the appearance of her oldest sister in the doorway.

  Molly folded her arms, her mouth set in a firm line. “Perhaps you ought to try your hand at another profession, if you find yourself with nothing better to do but make up speeches. Rousing speeches, I will grant you, but a waste of your valuable time, nonetheless. Even when we come into ownership of the ranch, it isn’t as if we will be surrounded by luxury. As you say, nothing will change. Including use of the money in the bank. That money is to be used for the ranch, and to support us. Nothing more.”

  “And what if I sell my part of the ranch? What if I allow the four of you to buy out my portion of the inheritance?”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  Cate should have known Lewis would be just behind her sister, as he tended to follow her wherever she went now that she was carrying his child. If he could have wrapped her in paper and set her away as if she were some fragile piece of china or crystal, he would have done just that.

  “And why not?” she challenged, hands on her hips.

  It always turned out this way. All of them were against her, just as they had always been. They all felt they knew best just because she was the youngest, and because she possessed imagination and a flair for the arts, unlike the rest of them.

  “Has anyone ever told you the fable about the goose who laid the golden eggs?” Lewis asked, going to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. “If you were to sell your share of the ranch to your sisters, certainly you would wind up with a great deal of money, but it would be less than the amount of money you would collect from the ranch’s operations over the rest of your life.”

  “There would be no further money coming to you, either,” Molly warned.

  “I would invest in the theater and collect the profits from that,” Cate argued.

  “If the theater is profitable,” Molly argued in return. “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow this. And I’m tired of hearing talk of it, to be honest. Life in the theater is no life for an honest, virtuous young woman like yourself. It’s downright scandalous that you even consider it. I’d hoped you would grow out of the idea by now, but I see I was wrong.”

  They were all against her. Just as they had always been. They were either deliberately blind or simply determined to circumvent her at every turn. Regardless of the reason why, it left her heartbroken.

  They were all happy. Even Phoebe and Rachel, although they could not see their husbands every day, thanks to the terms of their father’s will, stating they must maintain residency at the ranch for one year before inheriting it.

  Otherwise, they all had what they wanted.

  None of them understood Cate wanted wh
at she knew would make her feel as fulfilled as they did. It would never be enough for her to simply marry and keep house. The first time Mother took her to the theater, she’d known without a shred of doubt that it was the life for her.

  All her sisters could do was stand in her way and criticize, determined to make her believe her dreams were unworthy of pursuit. She would’ve thrown herself into a chair and wept if she thought for a minute they wouldn’t call her a baby.

  There had to be another way, and she was determined to find it.

  She’d show them if it was the last thing she ever did.

  2

  “I shall drive the buggy into town and bring it back this evening.”

  Phoebe and Rachel exchanged their second troubled look of the day.

  “This is a sudden announcement,” Phoebe murmured, arching one eyebrow.

  “I agree.” Rachel tilted her head to the side. “What brought this on? You stormed from the kitchen less than an hour ago, swearing one day you would show us all.”

  Cate put on her most contrite expression while biting the side of her tongue to keep it in place. Yes, she’d spoken in haste and feared she would come to regret it before long. Only once she’d cried her eyes out in the privacy of her bedroom had she begun to think clearly again.

  And she’d begun to plan.

  Her plan led her to the bank, but she needed a reason to go to town. What better reason was there?

  “I thought I owed it to you after teasing about Rance and Mason,” she murmured, still contrite. “Besides, I could use a bit of time outside in the fresh air. And a chance to say hello to my brothers-in-law.”