Pony Express Christmas Bride. Rhonda Gibson

turning down another lane.

      Josephine didn’t want to argue with the older woman, but right now she just didn’t see it. Philip had lied to her and pretended to be his brother; at least, he had in the letter he’d sent. And at no time during their trip out to the way station had he said anything about Thomas not knowing she was coming. As for Thomas, he might be nice, but he didn’t want to get married and she didn’t know what she’d do if he didn’t marry her.

      The wagon slowed to a stop in front of a farmhouse. “It’s not much, but it is home,” Hazel said, setting the brake and preparing to dismount from the wagon.

      Josephine looked at the small house and smiled. She watched as smoke curled upward from the chimney into the late-afternoon sky. Its warmth beckoned to her. “It’s perfect.” Weariness weighed heavily upon her shoulders as she climbed down from the wagon.

      Thomas pulled up beside them. His cowboy hat covered most of his head, but light brown hair could be seen around his ears and neck. A light beard covered his face. “Hazel, it looks like we are in for a heavy snow. Can I cut more wood for you?”

      It seemed now that he wasn’t filled with shock, his voice had lowered a degree. Josephine found herself looking up at him. She liked the warmth in his expression.

      Hazel answered, “No, thank you, Tom. We’re set for a few days.” She carried her basket up the steps.

      A few days? Josephine hadn’t planned on staying with the woman a few days. She needed to get back to Dove Creek and to the preacher who could marry them. Her gaze moved from the old woman back to Thomas.

      His green eyes searched hers. “Do you mind talking for a few minutes?” he asked, swinging down from the saddle.

      “Come on inside, both of you. You can use the sitting room to have your visit,” Hazel ordered as she entered the house.

      Josephine didn’t know exactly when or how she’d let the older woman take over her life, but it seemed Hazel had done just that. She turned her attention back to Thomas. “I need to talk to you, too.” If she could make him understand why she needed to get married as soon as possible, then maybe he’d agree.

      He nodded and followed her into the house. Josephine stopped inside the doorway. She hadn’t expected to see a plush settee and large chair in the small home. A beautiful rug rested on the floor and colorful paintings filled the walls.

      Hazel came out of a door to the right of the room. “Josephine, you can sleep in there tonight.” She indicated the room behind her and then continued on to the kitchen. “I’m going to make hot coffee. Would either of you like a slice of spice cake to go with the coffee?”

      Thomas answered, “I can’t stay long.” He took his hat off and worked the brim with his hands.

      “I’d love a piece,” Josephine replied as her stomach growled.

      Hazel nodded and left the room. Josephine moved to the settee. “Would you like to sit?” She set her bag down.

      Thomas 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