Free Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12) by Shanna Hatfield Page A

good manners, even if she couldn’t completely eradicate western slang from her speech.
    Appalled by Ernie’s bold advances, Dacey teetered on the verge of giving him a shove onto the floor. She happened to catch a wrathful look on Braxton’s face. He studied them from where he leaned against the fireplace mantle.
    Suddenly inspired by the thought he might care for her a little, she inched closer to Ernie.
    The muscles in Braxton’s jaw tightened. Angry sparks shot from his eyes, piercing Ernie, although the dunce failed to notice.
    Braxton grabbed the poker and jabbed at the logs snapping and popping in the fireplace. When he turned back to face their guests, he appeared calm once again.
    He even offered an affable smile to their guests. “You gentlemen might like to see something I recently acquired. Would you care to join me?”
    Ernie and his father immediately rose to their feet, following Braxton and Daniel from the room.
    Relieved, Dacey watched them leave then leaned back against the cushions of the settee with a soft sigh.
    Beatrice moved to sit beside her and the three women visited as they ate slices of pie.
    “Did I hear correctly that you grew up near Pendleton, Oregon, Dacey?” Ellie asked as she set down her empty plate and took a sip of tea.
    “That’s correct.”
    “What made you leave?” Ellie innocently asked.
    Beatrice shot Ellie a guarded look, but the question hung in the air until Dacey set down her teacup and looked at her. “The man my mother married.”
    “Oh, I didn’t realize… I’m sorry, Dacey. There’s no need to say anything further.” Distraught that she might have offended the girl, Ellie shot Dacey a sympathetic glance.
    Dacey waved a hand at her in a placating motion and smiled. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for, Ellie. My father died when his horse threw him. Broke his neck. Mother didn’t trust me and our hands to keep the ranch going, so she married the first man who asked. If he could have, Daddy would have risen from the dead and pitched a royal fit. Luther Goss is about three levels lower than a snake’s underbelly, but that fact was one we didn’t discover until after he’d talked my mother into marrying him.”
    “So he charmed his way into your grieving mother’s good graces?” Beatrice asked, hoping Dacey would continue her story.
    “You could say that. My daddy had only been gone a month when Mother up and married ol’ Luther. It caused quite a scandal in town, even if the rules of society are a little more relaxed there than here.” Dacey tugged at the lace on the sleeve of her dress. As much as it irritated her, she’d considered taking the scissors to it a few times. However, the gown was expensive and Beatrice seemed to favor it, so she refrained.
    “Then what happened?” Ellie asked, gazing at her with interest. “How did you discover he wasn’t the man he claimed to be?”
    Dacey grinned and leaned forward in her seat. “Only a few weeks after he married my mother and moved out to the ranch, he started disappearing right after supper. He typically had a drink or two with the meal, but he’d be rip-roaring drunk when he arrived home after his nocturnal adventures. The hands and I got to wondering what he was up to. We had a pretty good idea, so one evening I followed him.”
    “You didn’t!” Beatrice gawked at Dacey, placing a hand on her arm.
    “I did.” Dacey squeezed Beatrice’s hand. “I stayed far enough behind the drunken lout he had no idea I was trailing him, but I followed him into Pendleton just to see what sort of tomfoolery he engaged in of an evening.”
    “Where did he go?” Ellie questioned, enthralled with Dacey’s story.
    “Had he wandered into a saloon, I wouldn’t have been surprised at all. The boys and I expected that. But my jaw dangled open like the hinges had come plumb loose when I rode around a corner and saw him boldly march up the stairs to the most notorious bordello in town. One thing