His Bewildering Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 3) Read Free Page B

better balance as she brought it down widened her smile. She’d worn her finest gown to meet her new husband. Some would consider it vain or even showy, but clothing, the way that one presented themselves, was of vital importance in making a strong impression.
    With a smile on her face, feigning confidence, telling herself she was ready to meet her new life head-on, Wendy took a step forward—
    —and was immediately cut off as a man in a dusty suit stepped into the aisle in front of her. His movements were deliberate, and he paid Wendy no regard whatsoever as he turned to reach for his bag. His bulky form blocked her without apology.
    “Excuse me, sir.” Wendy fought to keep her impatience in check. “May I walk around you?”
    The man took one look at her over his shoulder, curled his lip in a sneer, and barked, “You’ll wait your turn, you uppity darkie.”
    Indignation snapped like a whip down Wendy’s spine. She held her back straight and kept her chin up. “Common courtesy would dictate that a gentleman stand aside to let a lady pass.”
    The man snorted and yanked his bag from the rack above his seat. “I don’t see any ladies, only a pretentious—”
    Wendy’s jaw dropped at the word he called her. The heat of anger flushed her face, but the man had already moved on, charging down the aisle to the train’s door. Wendy waited until the man had stepped down from the car to move. Fury made her dizzy, and disappointment turned her stomach. She’d had such high hopes that things in Haskell, Wyoming would be different.
    Ahead, a man with a bushy moustache sent her a sympathetic look as she approached the door. “Sorry, miss,” he mumbled. “We’re not all like that in Haskell.”
    “Oh?” Wendy cursed the waver in her voice.
    “Nope.” The man held out his hand. “Herb Waters is the name. I own the livery in town. Well, for now. My sister in Denver…” He stopped abruptly and laughed at himself. “My sister tells me I talk too much. I’ll let you get on with things.”
    Mr. Waters gestured for Wendy to walk ahead of him down the aisle. If there was one kind man in Haskell, there could be others. Wendy paused before the train car’s door, closed her eyes, and took in a breath. Her mother’s words—said so many times before she passed away—settled over her. “There are good people in this world and bad people. What they look like has nothing to do with it, it’s how they treat their fellow men that means everything.”
    She opened her eyes and forced a smile. One rude man was not going to ruin the happiness that waited for her on the platform right outside the train. If her hands were free, she would have smoothed any stray hairs away from her face, checked to be sure her stylish, plumed hat was in place, and adjusted her skirts. As it was, she could only clear her throat and step down onto the train platform.
    Uncertainty hit her as soon as her heels clicked on the boards. Haskell was small, but the platform was busy. Mr. Waters zipped out from behind her and rushed off on his own business. Porters and a man in a stationmaster’s uniform worked unloading baggage from the last car on the train. Wagons were parked around the platform, and the passengers that had already disembarked were hugging and greeting friends or family. The rude man who had insulted her was being fawned over by four young ladies in dresses that were fashionable, yet somehow inappropriate for the dusty street. Wendy winced at the sight. Those young ladies would have been ideal customers if she was in a position to continue sewing. Then again, if the man—who, judging by age and the girls’ reactions to him, must have been their father—held the opinion of her that Wendy assumed he did, there was a fair chance they wouldn’t patronize her anyhow.
    There were other people scattered about the platform, waiting for passengers or perhaps cargo, but not one of them looked like he could be Cody Montrose. There was a small