Chapter One

The weather was frightful when Jack Coffee stepped off of the train and into the dreary station. Rain beat heavily against the roof and poured down the windows, leaving the world outside little more than a watery blur. Pulling his jacket closer around his shoulders, Jack sighed. His own breath puffed out in a white cloud in front of him.

“Miserable night,” Vince groaned as he stepped onto the platform behind Jack. With his wide brimmed sheriff hat tucked low over his face, he looked even more dour than usual. “My house isn’t far; you can stop off there to rest first.”

Truthfully, Jack was in no mood to rest. His joints ached, and a headache had settled into the back of his skull from their recent fight. Those outlaws had been scrappy and determined, and it was easy to say that Jack had been knocked around a bit. At least the outlaws were in custody now, and he was home.

Without the energy to argue, Jack quietly followed Vince home. The hum of the train station, still busy even at this time of evening, left his head banging harder than ever. Yet the second they stepped onto the open street, he felt the relief. Rain wasn’t common here at all, as dry and arid as it was, and a part of him was almost grateful for the sheets of rain now pouring from the darkening sky.

Vince lived nearby, perhaps ten minutes from the station. They crept along the quiet street, hauling their tired bodies up the gentle hill, both of them too tired to speak.

The gate creaked as Vince pushed it open, and the front door creaked even louder. Vince shook off his coat as he stepped inside, the dim light illuminating the dark circles under his eyes.

Feeling no better than Vince looked, Jack forced himself to trudge inside, too. “At least it’s over with,” he commented tiredly, slipping off his hat. His auburn hair was plastered to his face from the rain.

“It was a job well done,” Vince replied. Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of something – or someone – behind Jack, and he broke into a wide smile. “Hettie!”

Hettie, Vince’s wife, was a pretty young woman with a mass of dark curls and bright, shining eyes. Those eyes were narrowed now, though, as she stormed over to the two men with a huff. “Look at the state of you two,” she chided. “Have you been fighting again? I’ve told you both a hundred times that you can’t keep fighting outlaws and criminals like you’re invincible.”

Jack wilted under Hettie’s intense stare, but Vince only laughed. It was a rich sound, warm even, and in almost a decade of knowing Vince, Jack had only ever heard that laugh when Hettie was around.

“Well,” Hettie replied with a roll of her eyes, “Susannah and the baby are in bed already. Although she really wanted to wait for you, I had to say no.” Her eyes darted to the top of the stairs, as if she expected the girl to appear, summoned by her name. “Now I’m glad I said no. Imagine if either of them saw you both in this state!”

Jack wasn’t sure if she meant their injuries, their soaking wet clothes, or the fact that they both looked about ready to pass out from exhaustion at any given moment. It was probably all three, he decided after a moment. “I’m sorry, Hettie,” he murmured, “but we didn’t expect a fight to break out. We’ve got them, though, and they’re currently detained in the county jail.”

“Then you’ll have time to sit and be tended to,” Hettie replied gently. She took Vince by the arm and led him into the little kitchen, which was always roasting hot no matter how cold it was outside. The hearth was lit, soup bubbling away, and it filled the room with pleasant heat.

Vince’s aunt Martha sat at the kitchen table slicing potatoes, and she sent both men a raised brow as they traipsed in. “My,” she exclaimed. “Looks as if you two have had a day.”

“You could say that,” Jack agreed. When he tried to sit down at the table, his knee protested with a jolt of aching pain. Right. He had almost forgotten that he’d fallen during the chase, landing directly onto his knees.

“They look like they’ve been through the wars,” Hettie fussed. She was fumbling for the med kit that Jack knew she kept above the sink. It was a little tin box with bandages and the like, mostly for Susannah’s scrapes and bruises, as children were likely to get. Now, though, they were going to make use of it.

Hettie busied herself dabbing at a cut along Vince’s cheek, and he rolled his eyes – but he didn’t resist, or even try to make a fuss, so it was all in good humor. “Martha,” Hettie piped up after a moment, “could you look over Jack, please? He’ll try to convince you that he’s fine, but don’t listen. He’s just as stubborn as Vince.”

Martha laughed, deepening the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. As she was Vince’s aunt, Martha was somewhat getting on in age, and sometimes she struggled to get around. Her cheerfulness, though, had never suffered. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you, boy.” She beckoned Jack over.

He’d only just sat down, but Jack knew better than to argue with Martha. Dutifully he stood, trudging over to the other end of the table so that Martha could survey his injuries. Pulling out another chair, he collapsed into it with a sigh. “Really, I’m fine-”

“You are not,” Martha chided, “so let me check you over, at least. That cheek is going to bruise, and you’re favoring your left leg – are you sure we shouldn’t call the doctor?”

“There’s really no need,” Vince cut in. A thin piece of gauze had been carefully placed over his cut cheek, and now Hettie was busying herself with cleaning the blood from his neck. The blood wasn’t his because Vince had been forced to use his weapons against the outlaws, but Hettie was nothing if not thorough.

Martha offered a well-meaning roll of her eyes before turning to Jack. “She coddles him, doesn’t she?” Martha chided, but it was with a smile. “Things have changed since Hettie arrived. Have you never thought about a family yourself, Jack?”

Jack sucked in a breath as Martha swiped at a cut on his jaw with cleaning alcohol. He hadn’t even realized he’d been injured there, and it left his face stinging. “I don’t have time for romance,” he replied with a shrug. “Being Deputy Sheriff takes up too much of my time.”

“You just don’t understand the importance of family,” Martha said firmly. “You’re young. I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

At twenty-nine, Jack was only two years younger than Vince; but he didn’t say so out loud. Perhaps he was just too young to see how important family was, but that was only because his own work took precedence. Then again, he was only a deputy. Vince was the sheriff, and he had time for a wife and child. Shaking his head, Jack made to stand up-

Only for Martha to put a thin hand on his shoulder and gently push him back down. “Not until I deal with that knee,” she said with a raised brow. “Roll up your pant leg, please.”

A part of Jack almost didn’t want to see what his leg looked like, but he dutifully rolled up the fabric anyway. When he glanced down, he saw purplish bruises already beginning to form.

“See, Jack? If you had a wife to come home to, she could be looking after you right now. Instead, you have me.” Martha raised both brows as if to say tell me I’m wrong. Then she brought both of her bony hands to Jack’s knee and began pressing at the joint with careful precision. “Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a beautiful young woman?”

Jack hissed as Martha’s deft fingers pressed into the bruise. “You know you’re my favorite girl,” Jack joked. “Why would I need anyone else – ouch!”

“Oh hush now,” Martha chided, and it earned a muffle laugh from Vince at the other end of the table. “That’s just an excuse. Now, your knee seems fine to me, so you just let that bruise heal up on its own.”

“Yes, Martha.” Sometimes it was better to humor her than argue, and this was one of those times. He couldn’t understand why people were so invested in his love life. Or rather, lack thereof. Stretching out his injured leg, Jack sank into the wooden chair with a sigh. “And who would you pick, should I decide to start courting?”

“I’m sure I could find you someone,” Hettie piped up with a smile. She discarded a bloody rag, quickly grabbing fresh bandages to wrap around Vince’s now-bare arm. The cut across his shoulder was long but shallow and likely didn’t need bandages at all, but Jack knew how Hettie loved to dote on Vince. “I’m sure there has to be a few girls in town who are looking for husbands.”

“Thank you,” Jack cut in, “but if I were to court a woman, I’d rather do it on my own terms.”

“An admirable decision, but if we leave you to it, you’ll never marry.” Hettie stood, bundling up the various rags and scraps to drop them into the sink. When she returned, she pressed a kiss to the corner of Vince’s lips and asked, “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” Vince smiled, that soft smile that was reserved only for the precious few. Not so long ago, Vince had been quiet and withdrawn, the kind of man who rarely spoke unless spoken to. Slowly, over the months that he and Hettie had been married, he was learning to open up.

Jack couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two interact. They were sweet together, that was undeniable.

“A good woman completes a man,” Martha said, snapping Jack from his observations. When he turned to her, she was smiling. “Just think about that, at least.”

This was one of those moments that he’d thought of earlier. It was better to nod and go along with it than contradict Martha. Hauling himself upright, Jack felt the bones in his back pop and crack. It both left his back aching and somehow relieved some of the pressure, but mostly it just left him wishing for bed. “I’ll think about it, Martha,” he promised, “but for now, I should leave you all your supper.”

“Let me see you to the door,” Vince offered. He stood, squeezing past Hettie in the narrow kitchen. He caught her by the waist, ducking down to press a quick kiss to her forehead before beckoning Jack forward. They really were sweet together, and in these quiet, casual moments it became all the more obvious how much they adored each other.

Jack hated to admit how the display of affection made his heart jump, how he found himself staring wistfully at Hettie and Vince’s exchange. He noticed how Vince’s lips quirked into a little smile, and how Hettie’s shoulders relaxed whenever Vince was near. It was easy to feel like Jack was missing something when he saw those two together.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, Jack bid goodbye to Hettie and Martha with a smile. Then he followed Vince into the quiet hall, dark now that the sun had set.

“She means well, you know,” Vince said as he opened the front door. “Martha, I mean. She’s only concerned that you might be lonely, living alone in that big house.”

Jack didn’t think his house was big – although having it passed on to him by his wealthy father, it was certainly bigger than Vince’s. Still, that wasn’t really the point, was it? “I don’t mind,” he said truthfully. “Though sometimes I do wonder what I’m missing out on.”

Vince offered an awkward smile, and he reached out to pat Jack’s shoulder in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting manner. “You’ll find the right woman eventually,” he replied. “Or not, if you don’t want to. Whatever you choose, you know what’s best.”

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, Jack stepped out onto the front steps, feeling the wind against his skin. The rain had stopped, at least, and he was no longer drenched in grimy rain water. “Goodnight, Vince. Get some sleep.”

“You too. We both deserve it after tonight.”

After saying their goodbyes, Jack left Vince to his quiet evening. Jack took his time walking home, giving his knee a chance to rest as he ambled through the streets. This late, Hollow was virtually empty, save for a few people rushing to get home. For the most part, Hollow was a quiet town. One might even say it was boring, save for the occasional gossip or an outlaw riding through.

Eventually he came across the little street that led home. Jack trudged up the steps and slipped into the dark, cold hallway. It was the same every night, coming home to an empty house and dark rooms. Perhaps, he thought, Martha is right. This is house is too cold. Too lonely.

Except, despite what Hettie had said about finding him someone, Jack knew that there was nobody in Hollow who was interested. He’d lived in Hollow his entire life, grown up around the same people on the same little street. He knew there were no available women to court.

An idea occurred to him, though, as he kicked off his shoes and padded upstairs. What if he didn’t court someone from Hollow? After a difficult beginning, having a mail order bride had worked wonderfully for Vince, and he and Hettie were so clearly in love.

Somehow, Jack had ended up in his study instead of the bedroom across the hall. The desk stood in front of the window, looking out onto the quiet street below. Letters and newspapers lay scattered; he had been meaning to tidy for days, and he noticed that one was open to a page of mail order bride advertisements.

It was like a sign, really. Something was telling him to try, and the thought had nestled itself into his mind and refused to leave. Settling down at his desk, Jack sighed. Why not try it? If nobody answered his advertisement, then nothing would change. And if somebody did answer, then he could choose what to do then.

Jack was reaching for a pen before he even realized it. It was an old fountain pen, one of his father’s, so old that the ink had stained almost every part of it. Reaching for the ink pot as well, Jack let out a deep breath.

Somehow, he had decided. Jack Coffee was going to find himself a mail order bride. Or at least try to. After all, nothing could be lost by trying, and he wanted to bring some light back into this dreary old house.

Chapter Two

Gentleman of twenty-nine years old, Deputy Sheriff of Hollow, Texas. Looking to share companionship with a young woman of affectionate disposition, who would not mind settling down. 

Jack stared at the paper with a scowl. A part of him wanted to simply scrunch it up and throw it into the fire, but something stopped him. He had no idea how this mail order bride business worked, or what kind of information he was supposed to include. Of the brief advertisements he had read in the past, they had all differed wildly. Some men simply included what kind of women they wanted. Some were more personal, writing about themselves and their interests.

Eyes flickering to the window, Jack saw the moonlight shining back at him. It was true that until now he hadn’t thought much about a wife, and it was his own fault. He lived and breathed for work, and everything else was secondary. Yet it was the same for Vince, and even he had settled down eventually. Hands pressed into his temples, Jack sighed.

Looking for love, not an exchange, based on communication and mutual understanding. Only women genuinely interested in romance need apply.

It just sounded so… impersonal. Yet it followed what he had seen of similar advertisements. Besides, he had been staring at this paper for so long now that his eyes were beginning to strain under the weak light of the table lamp flickering by his side. Tomorrow, he could submit it to a paper or mail order bride agency. For now, Jack had looked at this for long enough. Carefully folding the paper, he slipped it into an envelope.

The rest of the evening passed in peace. Jack prepared a supper of toast, as he didn’t feel like cooking after the chaos of the day. He ate it at the kitchen table, alone, and wondered how he had never minded such a thing before. Perhaps it was only Martha’s words getting to him, but Jack really did find it too quiet now. Too empty. He looked about the kitchen and saw only his own belongings. Perhaps having a woman here would liven the place up, finally bring that something to his house – and life – that had been missing.

Finished with supper, Jack rinsed the plate under the sink before trudging back upstairs. Every so often his knee twinged, but after a good night’s rest, that would surely improve. The bedroom was cold as he slipped inside, and colder still as he changed into his nightwear. The bed lacked the warmth of another body beside him, and the other side of the pillows and mattress remained untouched. Jack sank under the covers and pulled them high over his head, craving the warmth.

Silence swallowed him up, and within moments, Jack was asleep.

***

The next morning, Jack rose with a groan. Every part of him ached, from his head to his ankles, and he felt as if his entire body had been thrown about like a doll. He dressed slowly, giving his aching body time to adjust, before slipping downstairs for breakfast.

As the kettle screeched, preparing his morning tea, Jack allowed his thoughts to drift. Last night, writing that advertisement had seemed sensible. Now, it made his stomach roll with nerves. It was true that he had somewhat envied Vince and Hettie for their relationship. He wondered how something that started off so awkwardly could have bloomed into something beautiful.

Shaking his head, Jack downed his tea in three huge gulps. Then he went to work, because it was already half-past eight and he liked to be there a few minutes early to read over the morning mail.

He met Vince by the door as Vince was opening up the sheriff’s office and greeted him with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Vince replied with a nod. “Feeling any better today?”

“If only. I think it will be a while before my knee’s right again.”

It looked like Vince had changed the gauze on his cheek, because it was smaller than he remembered. Most likely, Hettie had insisted on changing it before Vince left. Jack’s heart ached for reasons he couldn’t decipher, but it happened each time he thought about how much Hettie cared.

It’s because you want that for yourself, he chided silently. And yes, that was true. Jack wasn’t trying to deny it any longer.

Vince and Jack entered the office together, and Jack went right to the little lamp by the door. He lit it with a match, and warm light flooded through the room. The desks were in the same state they’d been left in, piled high with paper and letters and files. There were coffee stains everywhere, too, because Vince and Jack both went through a lot during the long days.

Before Jack could dart forward to try and tidy, however, Vince caught him by the elbow. “About last night,” he began, then grimaced. If this was a pep talk, Vince hated them. He tried again, hand slipping away from Jack’s arm. “I can only apologize for what Martha said. I’ve asked her not to be so forward with you, because your business is your own.”

“Martha can be nosy, but it comes from a good place.” He glanced down at his desk, noticing the pile of unread letters from throughout the week. He should probably get to them, but something stopped him. “Actually,” he said to Vince, “she’s right. Maybe I do need someone in my life. A woman to come home to and talk to. Settle down with. Everything that Martha said got me thinking, you know.”

Vince’s brows shot up to his hairline, eyes wide and incredulous. “Really. What brought this on?”

“Honestly? You.”

“Me?”

Jack couldn’t quite meet Vince’s eyes, so he stepped away to grab a handful of letters. Most were likely minor complaints or completely irrelevant, but it gave his hands something to do. “You and Hettie,” he confessed, “I see how you are together. How much you love each other and enjoy being together.” He shrugged, suddenly feeling childish for expressing such desires. “And if you can work around a family and work, why can’t I?”

Vince managed a smile, a soft laugh leaving him. “That’s what I’ve been telling you, Jack. I’m glad you’ve finally realized it.”

If the ground had opened him up and swallowed him right there, Jack would have been thankful. At least then he could have cut this conversation short and enjoyed the solitude. Biting down on his lip, he said, “I wrote a letter to a mail order bride agency. I’m going to post it today.”

“Oh.” If it were even possible, Vince’s eyes were even wider now than before. Yet there was something appreciative about his surprise, like the news was shocking but not unwelcome. “Well, good for you. I hope you find someone nice.”

Cheeks flushed faintly pink, Jack said, “Thank you. I truly don’t know if anything will come of it, but I know it worked for you.” Not at first, he knew, because Hettie and Vince hardly got along for the first unsteady months. Then, Hettie had been kidnapped by outlaws, and not getting along had become the least of their worries. In the end, however, it had all worked out.

Really, things had turned out almost idyllic for them. Jack hoped, deep down, that he could find what they had: a loving, easy relationship based on mutual loyalty and love. Jack didn’t believe in soulmates – but if he did, it would have been because of those two.

“Now,” Vince clapped his hands, and Jack startled from his thoughts, “I’ve got a lot of paperwork to fill out, so I should get it over with. We should take a ride over to the Thompson’s farm, too. Wild dogs have been stirring up trouble again.”

Just like that, it was business as usual. It was as if their conversation had never happened at all, and Jack found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Settling down at his desk, Jack reached for the first in the pile of letters. For now, at least, he could focus on work. Then, later, he would submit that advertisement and pray that a lovely young woman took an interest. A part of him couldn’t help but smile in anticipation, waiting for his lunch break so he could post that letter. A larger part of him rolled with anxiety at the very concept.

But what was the point, if he didn’t take a leap? Nothing in life came from avoidance or ignorance, and that especially applied to love. So, for the rest of the morning, a mixture of excitement and apprehension lingered in his mind until Jack posted the letter that afternoon. After that, it was official.

He was looking for a mail order bride.

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