Page 4 of Mail-Order Lady

The hotel lobby stood empty except for the clerk, who barely glanced up from his ledger. As Robert took the stairs, his mind counted them out of habit. Sixteen. The hallway at the top stretched quiet and still.

He knocked on Mrs. Wang’s door first. Three, then two.

She opened it right away, a smile in her dark eyes. “All is well here.”

“Good.” He glanced past her into the room, though of course there was nothing unusual to see. “I’ll check on Clara, then go make some inquiries around town.”

“She has not left her room.”

He nodded and crossed to Clara’s door. Three knocks, then two.

A pause. Then the sound of the lock turning, and Clara opened the door. She’d taken off her traveling cloak and tidied her hair, though a few strands still escaped near her temple. She looked tired. Actually tired, not just the careful version of tired she usually let people see. Had this trip been too much for her? Seeing her mother again would be challenge enough, but ten days riding on a wagon’s hard bench and sleeping under the stars might have been too much to add.

“The horses are settled.” He cleared the dust from his throat. “I’m going to walk the town. See what I can learn.”

She nodded, but didn’t step back from the doorway. “You think she’s here.”

“The Benton Belle arrived yesterday. If she kept to her plan⁠—”

“She always keeps to her plans.” Clara’s tone was matter-of-fact, but her fingers gripped the doorframe. “What will you do if you find her?”

A question he’d been turning over since they’d left the ranch.

“Talk to her. Find out what she wants.” He paused. “What she thinks she can claim.”

“And if what she wants is me?”

The words hung between them. Clara’s face stayed pleasant, but her knuckles turned white against the wood.

“Then we’ll deal with it.” He kept his voice level. Professional. As if this were simply another legal matter to be managed. “You’re not a minor. She has no legal authority over you.”

“Legal authority and actual power aren’t always the same thing.”

True enough.

He held her gaze, but kept himself from sinking into those green-brown eyes. “I won’t let her force you into a marriage you don’t want. No matter who the man is.”

Especially if he’s three times your age and looking for a decorative young wife to manage.

That was the marriage arrangement her mother had schemed already. The one that drove Clara to answer a mail-order bride advertisement. The one that sent Clara and Kate all the way from South Carolina to the Montana Territory.

Ordering a bride for Thomas had been Enoch and James’s plan mostly, though Robert had seen some wisdom in it. Thomas needed a wife to settle down with. Thankfully, the best someone for him had turned out to be Kate, not Clara.

Yet would Mrs. McKinney still try to enforce the agreement she’d originally made? Or had she devised a new plan in the months since Clara fled?

“I mean it.” His voice held a hard edge, but he didn’t soften it. “Whatever she’s planning, we’ll counter it.”

Clara studied him a long moment. Something shifted in her expression—not quite relief, but maybe the beginning of it. “Thank you.”

He should leave. Go search the town. But his feet stayed planted in the hallway like they’d grown roots.

“Robert.” She tilted her head. “You can go. I’ll be fine.”

Right. Of course she would.

He forced himself to rip his rooted feet free. “Lock the door.”

“Three knocks, then two.” The corners of her mouth lifted again. “I remember.”