A Bride for Logan by Barbara Goss (readict .TXT) 📕

He left his father’s study with mixed feelings. He could pay off his debt now, and he felt relieved about that, but to get married? He hadn’t ever considered that. A few of his friends had married, and it was as if they had stopped living afterward, as they could no longer go to the saloon or gamble. They even had to ask permission to go hunting! He had no wish to be tied down to a harping wife, but he didn’t want to lose his inheritance either or he’d have no future at all.

Logan had a year to figure it out. He could try to quit gambling, but at twenty-two he was too young to tie himself down to a wife and children.

~ Eleven Months Later ~

A good crowd showed up for his father’s funeral. Logan stayed behind to have a few moments with his father before the grave diggers filled in the grave. Finally, Logan turned and walked home. He missed his father already. They'd gotten along better this past year, and he’d stopped gambling and worked hard on the ranch to show his father he was responsible. Logan didn’t miss gambling because his best friend, Alan Hershel, helped him overcome his habit by playing poker for matchsticks with him whenever he felt the urge. It wasn’t winning the money that had him hooked, but the card game itself. He loved poker, and there wasn't a game anywhere that played for anything but money. Strangely, when they played for matchsticks, he always ended up winning.

Just when things were going so well, his father had had a heart seizure and died instantly.

His sister and her husband were getting into their buggy when Logan approached home. Prudence’s eyes were red. She sniffled into her handkerchief, but she still waved to him and smiled.

He strode over to the buggy. “Are you leaving so soon?”

“We have to get back to Hays. Hugh has an important client to see, and I’ve left Billy with a neighbor.” She patted his hand. “If you need anything, just telegraph us.”

Logan shifted his weight. “I’m fine, but I hate to go into the house. It’s so different with Father gone.”

“I know. It feels strange without him.”

Hugh leaned over and said, “Send for us if you need anything.”

Logan nodded and waved as they started down the long lane to the main road.

He had just about made it to the front door when someone galloped down the lane toward him. Logan squinted against the sun and recognized his father’s attorney, John Snyder. He turned and walked toward him.

“I’m glad I caught you,” John said as he dismounted. “I tried to get here in time for the funeral, but I was in court and as usual, things didn’t go well. Do you have a minute?”

“Yes. Won’t you come inside?”

“No, not today. I have only a few minutes since another client is coming in to see me shortly. I have your father’s will here.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a wad of papers. “I’ll brief you quickly: you have only a month to find a bride, I’m afraid. According to the will, to inherit you had to have married within the last year.”

“What? Father said he would change that.”

 “He didn’t. He told me that if all went well, he’d change it after a year, and that would be, according to the will, a month and three days from now.”

Logan grabbed the papers from John’s hand and scanned them. “Dagnabbit!”

Logan spread out his cards and stared at them for several moments before raising his bet.

His opponent matched his bet and raised him.

Logan pushed all of his matchsticks into the center of the table. “I call,” he said, flipping over his cards to show a pair of sixes.

Alan groaned. “I only have a pair of twos, and I’m out of matchsticks.”

“It’s much more fun with money but less stressful,” Logan said.

“What do you mean? I have to get more matchsticks from the general store and they’re expensive,” Alan replied.

Logan sighed. “The game made me forget my problem. What am I going to do, Alan?”

Alan, a quiet, tall, lanky fellow with wire-rimmed glasses, had been Logan’s best friend since they'd attended the same schoolhouse.

Alan scratched his head. “So, let me get this straight: your father stipulated that you had to marry to inherit in his will? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Where in the world would I find a wife in only a month? Oh, wait—three weeks, now.”

Alan gave Logan a mischievous smile. “There’s always Trixie. You’ve been seeing a lot of her.”

“Alan! She’s a saloon woman!”

“Well, any port in a storm.”

“Everyone in town knows her for what she is,” Logan said.

Alan snapped his fingers. “What about a saloon woman from some another town?”

Logan stared at Alan. “Where would we find one?”

“It so happens my Aunt Sophie’s cousin owns a saloon in Boulder City. I could ask her to send you someone. I’m sure any one of them would jump at the chance to marry a ranch owner and live a respectable life.”

Logan digested his friend’s words. “Can we get one in three weeks’ time?”

Alan shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. There has to be a way.”

Chapter Two

Boulder City, Colorado

Emma Jamison stood on the wooden walkway with her small sack of possessions and watched the wagon train scout gallop away. The man had escorted her from the wagon train to a little white church in Boulder City, Colorado and left her there. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. The scout had told her to seek the minister of the church for help. She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight and looked at the church. The building needed a