A Bride to Heal His Fire-Scarred Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

Silver Ridge, New Mexico Territory, Summer, 1880

The train hissed and ground to a halt, releasing a plume of smoke that stung Clara Whitmore’s nose and throat. She brought a handkerchief to her face as she tried to keep the worst of the fumes from her body. Her gloved hand tightened around the handle of her satchel. The ground seemed to tremble beneath her, as if the earth was still traumatized by the train’s thunderous stop. 

“Prepare to disembark!” the conductor announced. 

People pushed past her in their haste to get out of the hot, crowded train. They’d all been trapped together for hours, and no one was keen to spend a single moment on the train longer than they had to. She waited a little while until most of the other passengers had vacated their seats. 

Clara collected her small traveling bag and made her way out into the aisle. 

“Thank you,” she said politely, inclining her head toward the mustached conductor. 

He was leaning against the side of the train, inspecting his pocket watch. “I didn’t do much, miss.” 

“Still, you worked hard to make it a pleasant journey. Thank you.” She glanced out of the door apprehensively, wondering what waited for her out there. 

“You ain’t from around here, are you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he inspected her. “What brings you to the middle of nowhere?” 

“Uh…” Clara scratched her cheek as she tried to think of a suitable response. She didn’t want to give away more details than was absolutely necessary. “Well, I’m here to meet my fiancé.” 

“Your fiancé?” The conductor tilted his head slightly at her. “Ah, I see. I hope this town is everything you hoped.” 

“Thank you.” Clara inclined her head to him before stepping outside. 

It was brighter outside the train, and she had to blink a few times for her eyes to adjust. Clara’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she took in the first sight of her new home. Silver Ridge. This was her fresh start, her chance at a better life. It might as well have been the edge of the world. 

A dry breeze swept across the platform. It tugged at her traveling skirts and brought the scent of dust, sweat, and coal smoke. Clara wrinkled her nose as she kept her handkerchief pressed tightly against her face. A few people gave her strange looks as they passed, clearly unimpressed by her reaction. 

She cast her eyes aside as she stepped out onto the rickety wooden platform. Clara pulled the rim of her hat a little lower over her face to protect her skin from the harsh glare of the summer sun. 

People swarmed all over the platform. Rail hands shouted to each other as they unloaded crates, women in calico dresses embraced their families, and children ran underfoot with excited shrieks. 

Clara lowered her handkerchief as she took several deep breaths to calm herself. The train platform was an assault on the senses. It was especially jarring since she’d had such a peaceful, quiet journey. 

Somewhere in the crush of strangers, her future was waiting for her. She didn’t want him to find her overwhelmed and frustrated. 

First impressions are very important. I won’t get a second chance at meeting him. 

Clara fanned herself with her hand as she stared at a spot on the dirty train platform. This meeting had to go well. She had nowhere else to turn to if he rejected her. 

Her hands trembled as all her worst fears ran through her mind. What if he didn’t show up? What if he didn’t like what he saw and turned away from her? The questions prickled her skin, clinging stubbornly to her like thorns. She had answered his advertisement for a correspondence bride out of desperation. While his letters had been sweet, they were only letters on a page at the end of the day. 

An idea occurred to her as she thought of his letters. 

Clara rummaged in her traveling bag until she found a bundle of letters. There were only a handful, and they were all worn. She’d handled them enough times to make the edges smooth to the touch. 

The most recent letter was at the top, and although she’d read it a hundred times over already, she read it again, picking out key phrases. 

Dear Clara, 

I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to hear that you’ve decided to join me out in Silver Ridge. I shall meet you at the platform. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to become your husband. Should you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll wear a red flower in my hat and a white handkerchief in my pocket so that you might recognize me.

I will see you soon. 

Warm regards, 

Daniel McAllister

Clara smiled to herself as she folded the letter in half and put the letters back in her bag. The words helped soothe her frayed nerves. Daniel seemed to be a kind man. The person who’d written so thoughtfully to her certainly wouldn’t judge her based solely on appearances. 

She squared her shoulders as she made a mental note of what had to happen next. 

Find the luggage. 

Locate Daniel. 

Try not to get lost. 

Clara looked around, trying to pick out individuals in the crowd, but people were moving so quickly that their faces blurred together. A man in a bowler hat rushed past while a weatherworn rancher tugged at his mule. Two soldiers strode past, their rifles slung casually across their backs. None of them paid her any mind. 

She let out a huff of frustration and looked back at the train. Her trunk had yet to appear among the jumble of cases and bags piling up at the end of the platform where the rail workers were unloading the baggage. 

A pang of anxiety clenched her heart in a vice. She’d packed as light as she could, choosing to take only her most valuable dresses as she knew there was no chance that she’d ever go back to Charleston for the rest of her belongings. 

Her boots clicked against the floorboards as she weaved her way through the bustling crowd toward the luggage. She was careful to lift her skirts so they didn’t sweep against the ground. Clara had to be more careful with her clothing now as she’d only been able to bring a handful of dresses with her. 

Finally, she spotted her trunk, a leather case with her initials inked onto the tag, among the other bags. She hurried toward it just as a harried rail worker pushed past her. The motion knocked her to one side, and her hand shot out to steady her. She winced as her hand touched the hot metal and her wrist bent at an awkward angle. 

She whimpered as she brought her hand to her chest. People jostled past her, talking loudly to each other. The sheer noise of the train station became too much. The whistles, hoofbeats, shouts, and creaking wagon wheels on the street beyond piled on top of her, threatening to push her to the ground. 

“Stop this, Clara!” she said out loud. 

She had chosen this path. These were the first steps toward her new life, to the freedom that she had long yearned for. 

No one’s looking at me here. No one knows me. And no one is judging me here. It’s not like back in Charleston. 

She shuddered at the memory of hostile stares and muttered judgments. The place that had been her home all her life had turned into enemy territory overnight, and she’d been branded a pariah. Even if she wanted to go back, no one would welcome her. She was completely on her own. 

Clara expelled a heavy breath and grabbed hold of her trunk. She hauled it across the platform, pausing every time someone crossed her path. When she got to the street, she was met with more chaos. 

Wagons rushed past in both directions, their wheels crunching over the dirt as they hurried to and fro. Horses snorted, cantering past as their nostrils flared. The clang of a blacksmith’s hammer echoed in the distance. 

Clara blinked her tears away. She had known that she would be overwhelmed and that it wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t been prepared for just how foreign everything would look to her. 

She turned around, searching for any sign of a red flower or a white handkerchief. Instead, she only found tense expressions and weatherworn buildings. 

A hollow pit formed in her stomach. She stepped off the platform, hoping to get a better view of the street in case he was still making his way toward her. 

“Watch out!” 

The warning shout split the air. Clara whirled around to see a wagon barreling straight toward her. Its horses were wild-eyed as their hooves pounded the earth in panic. The driver was yanking at the reins, but it was no use. Clara froze, her breath catching in her throat, as she watched the wagon careening straight toward her. 

In a heartbeat, a hand seized her arm and yanked her backward. The movement was so swift that her hat nearly fell from her head. The wagon thundered past where she’d been standing a moment earlier, leaving her choking in the thick dust cloud as her heart hammered painfully in her chest. 

Clara stumbled slightly, clutching tightly to her rescuer’s arm. 

“Do you have a death wish?” a gruff voice asked. 

Her words of gratitude died on her lips as she looked up at the man who had saved her. 

He was tall, much taller than she, with broad shoulders and a solid, muscular frame that hinted at years of hard labor. His dark brown hair was combed back and curled at the nape of his neck. A few strands had fallen over his eyes, and he pushed them back with an impatient gesture. 

He had a neatly trimmed beard with a few telltale strands of silver streaked through it. 

The man would have been handsome if it weren’t for the terrible mess of scars along the right side of his face. The skin was puckered and twisted, running from his temple, across his cheek and jaw, continuing all the way to his neck and disappearing down his collar. His ear was terribly misshapen from the burns, and she wondered distantly if the damage had affected his hearing. 

When he lifted his hand to push the strands of hair out of his face, he revealed further scarring along his hand. 

Clara’s skin went cold as she imagined the terrible suffering that he had endured. She swallowed hard and quickly pulled her eyes away from his scars, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her reaction. Guilt pierced her stomach as she tried to think of something to say. 

When she looked back at him, it was his eyes that she noticed first. They were the most unusual color— a stormy gray-blue. The result was intense and striking. His eyes weren’t ruined by whatever fire had marked him. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, offering him a slight smile. 

“Careless.” He shook his head at her, his tone edged with irritation. His voice had a raspy quality to it that sent a shiver down her spine. “You could have died. Why didn’t you move?” 

Clara’s cheeks burned. “I…I was so startled that I couldn’t move. I certainly would have been crushed if it weren’t for you.” 

He let out a grunt of frustration. She bit down on her bottom lip in embarrassment and studied his clothes. He wore a well-worn trail coat, a plain cotton shirt, dark trousers, and scuffed boots. The man held a wide-brimmed hat in his hand, with a red flower tucked in the brim. 

She gasped as she looked up at him with wide eyes. 

He shot her a withering glare. “There’s no need to act like that. I’m sure you’ve seen scars before.” 

Clara shook her head firmly. “No, no, it’s not that…It’s just…Sorry, I was looking for you out on the platform. Perhaps I should have waited, but it’s so busy and overwhelming. Things are much different in Charleston.” 

At the mention of her former home, his expression cleared, and his shoulders tensed. “Clara Whitmore.” He said her name matter-of-factly. 

She nodded and stuck out her hand for him to shake. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You must be Daniel McAllister.” 

He shook her hand and averted his gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought your train was coming a little later. When I heard the whistle, I ran as quickly as I could.” 

“You made it in the nick of time,” Clara pointed out. “If it weren’t for you, I would have been in a world of trouble.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably. 

“I suppose the streets here are different from what you’re used to in Charleston,” he said, looking everywhere but at her. 

“That’s precisely what I was thinking,” she said     , looking at the road. It bore deep ruts from wagon wheels, and every passerby kicked up a cloud of dust. “I suppose I’m just used to having a companion when I leave the house.” 

She bit down hard on her bottom lip, wishing that she hadn’t said anything at all. It seemed that one of her biggest challenges would be keeping her past firmly behind her. She gave away details about her background without meaning to, and that would surely lead to trouble. 

“I see,” Daniel said shortly. “I reckon you and I ought to talk about what happens next. Is that your trunk?” 

She nodded, and he walked over, picking it up with ease. He turned and walked down the boardwalk, leaving her to scramble after him. Clara scurried to his side and gave him a sidelong glance as they walked. He kept looking straight ahead, not making eye contact with her once. 

A strange feeling settled over her as she studied his features. 

Daniel. 

Her intended husband. 

If they decided to proceed with the engagement, then this would be her partner for the rest of her life. She had known that it was going to happen, but she hadn’t been prepared for how it would feel when she faced him in the flesh. It seemed like an awfully big decision to make. 

The same questions that had plagued her ever since she first responded to his advertisement rushed back to her mind. 

What if we don’t get along? What if he turns out to be a terrible person? How will he treat me? Does he want a partner like me? 

Dust swirled all around them as the noise of the town pressed close, but Clara couldn’t focus on anything but the hammering of her pulse in her ears. She’d staked her future on a man she’d only met through letters.

What would she do if everything went horribly wrong? 

Chapter Two

Daniel couldn’t bring himself to look at her. When he’d spotted a genteel-looking woman about to be run over by a carriage, he’d sprang into action. His first thought had been that she didn’t belong in the mud-spattered streets of Silver Ridge. She’d given him one look and had been overcome by such revulsion that she couldn’t speak. And when she did, she’d been obviously nervous and on edge. 

This was the woman he was supposed to marry. His fiancée. 

When he’d put the advertisement in the paper, he’d been hoping that he would find a practical-minded woman who wouldn’t mind helping on the ranch and being a companion for the rest of his days. Clara’s letters had given him the impression that she was strong, capable, and ready for any challenge. 

The tiny woman trying to keep up with him didn’t inspire the same confidence. She was just a little taller than his shoulder, and everything about her seemed miniature, including her hands and the dainty white gloves she wore to cover them. 

He would have snorted if he’d been alone. None of the women he knew wore gloves except when they went to church. They looked new, too. How long would they last on the ranch? Probably as long as she did, and he didn’t think that would be a significant amount of time. 

Frustration and annoyance gnawed at him. He needed help on the ranch. However, he couldn’t spend his time training and supporting a city woman with expensive tastes. Where did she think she was going to get new clothes from? Certainly not from him. He was a simple rancher, and money was tight. 

Anxiety squeezed his chest as he walked toward the hitching post where he had left his wagon. Daniel grunted as he put the trunk in the back and held out his hand to help Clara onto the seat. 

Clara grasped his hand and climbed onto the wagon, sparing him a sweet smile as she went. Daniel ducked his head, hating how his cheeks warmed at her smile. 

Now that he’d allowed himself to look at her, he had to admit that she was pretty. She had chestnut-colored curls that framed her delicate face, a small, sharp nose, and large blue eyes fringed with thick lashes. Clara reminded him of some of the porcelain dolls he’d seen in store windows before. She didn’t resemble any of the woman he knew with their tanned skin and strong frames. The poor woman was in for a nasty sunburn if she ever put her hat aside. Her skin was already turning red from the sun. 

The wagon was a simple wooden contraption with a small area at the back to transport goods from town to the ranch, and a seat for two people up front. Usually, it was only Daniel and his ranch hand, Sam, who sat there, so it was rather strange seeing a woman sitting there. 

The townspeople must have felt the same because a few of them craned their necks as they walked past, watching Daniel and Clara with interest. Over the years since the accident, Daniel had gotten used to their scrutiny. It had bothered him at first, but now he barely noticed it. People had also grown accustomed to seeing him around, so very few people still stared. 

However, now people had a new reason to stare. The town’s oddity had gotten himself a woman. No doubt, tongues would be wagging all over town before the hour was out. 

Frustration gripped his heart as he snapped the reins, causing his horses, Star and Mesquite, to pull ahead, dragging the wagon behind them. 

“May I ask where we’re going?” Clara asked, looking up at him as she held onto the front of the wagon with one hand and her hat with the other. 

It was a wide-brimmed hat with ostrich feathers tucked into the ribbon. He didn’t even want to know how much it had cost. 

“I was thinking we could go from the station to the chapel,” Daniel said. 

Her eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip, clearly taken aback by his words. 

It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t communicated his plans with her. He was so used to doing whatever he decided, that he didn’t bother to tell others what was happening. That would have to change if he was going to make a success out of the marriage. 

“If that’s all right with you,” he amended quietly. “If you’ve changed your mind—”

“No.” Clara shook her head resolutely. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want this to happen. The sooner the better. After all, we can’t spend too much time alone. People will start talking. I don’t want people to think badly of me before they’ve even met me. And I certainly wouldn’t want to affect your reputation.” 

Daniel’s ears burned as he kept his eyes straight ahead. She talked a lot. 

“Have you changed your mind?” she asked, tilting her head at him. 

Daniel hesitated. It wasn’t an easy question to answer. He still wanted a wife to help him on the ranch, but he wasn’t entirely sure that she was the right fit for what he wanted. 

“I haven’t,” he said slowly, “but are you sure that this is the life that you want? It ain’t easy on a ranch. What kind of life did you lead back in Charleston?” 

She didn’t answer right away, and the only response he got was the crunching of the wagon wheels over the packed dirt road. The longer she remained quiet, the more nervous he became. 

“I am not accustomed to ranch work,” she admitted. “My father is a banker. He…Well, he gave me a rather privileged upbringing. However, I’m a quick learner, and this is what I want to do with my life. I want to be here. And I want to make a success of things.” 

When he glanced at her, he was surprised by the earnestness of her gaze. Her sincerity was clearly written on her face. She pursed her lips and looked right at him, her cheeks turning pink as she watched him. It was a little charming, and he was unsettled by how she seemed to look right into his head. 

Daniel shook his head lightly and looked away, trying to get his thoughts in order before responding. 

“I can see you’re thinking hard,” she said, her voice light. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about so that we can understand each other better?” 

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he cast her a sidelong glance. 

“We’re going to be married in a little while,” she pointed out, “and we didn’t get much time to get to know each other. Let’s use this time wisely. Think of it as a condensed courtship.” 

He let out a bark of laughter, surprising even himself with the sound. Daniel smiled as he focused on the road. She made a fine point. If there was something that he needed to know, or any doubts that needed to be cleared up, then it was the right time to do so. There’d be no going back once they were married. 

The thought struck him. This was a permanent decision. They’d be bound together for the rest of their lives. Instead of scaring him, it warmed his heart. He’d have someone by his side to lean on when times got tough. The burden of keeping the ranch afloat wouldn’t rest solely on his shoulders anymore. 

If she married him, then she would have a vested interest in keeping the ranch running, too, because her fate was tied to his. The ranch would be their home, their income, and their legacy. The thought sent shivers down his spine and strengthened his resolve. 

Perhaps I can fill the ranch with good memories again until the bad ones are crowded out. 

“Why’d you come all the way out here?” Daniel asked. “You say your father was a banker. He has a lot more money than I will ever make in all my life, let me tell you now. Besides, if you’re used to city life, then I fear you’re going to be disappointed by what you find on the frontier. There won’t be much entertainment or visiting. Except for the occasional barn dance, we’re all too busy trying to keep our heads above water to socialize.” 

“I know that much at least,” Clara said with a faint smile. “It’s going to be a change, but that’s exactly why I chose to do this. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. I had to put a lot of thought into it. I could have backed out long before this.” 

“You might still get cold feet,” he pointed out. “Have you ever been outside of Charleston?” 

She shook her head. 

“I don’t know which stories led you to believe that this was a land of promise, but you should probably forget everything you think you know about this life,” he warned. “Plenty of people come out here looking for a promised land, or for a better life, and they’re sorely disappointed. Coming out here is a gamble that don’t always work out.” 

He winced as his relaxed grammar slipped into his speech. Daniel hadn’t realized how much he’d been trying to impress her until he said don’t instead of doesn’t. It seemed that some part of him wanted to make her think that he was better than he was. 

“I didn’t read any stories or novels…well, none that made me want to come out here.” She sniffed, sounding a little offended. “I can understand why you’d be concerned about that. And thank you for the warning.” 

“All right.” He raised his eyebrows. “So why did you come out here?” 

She fidgeted with the bag in her hands as she stared straight ahead. “I came here to marry you.” 

Daniel glanced at her again, disconcerted by her frown. He didn’t know her that well, but she seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve. Every emotion was written clearly in her expression. The story her face was telling him now was that there was more going on in her head and that she was uncomfortable. 

He was a firm believer that everyone was entitled to their privacy and deserved to tell their own stories in their own time. If they never got around to telling him, then he wasn’t one to push. 

However, this was a completely different situation. When they got married, her troubles would become his, and his would become hers too. 

Just what am I getting myself into? 

“You answered my advertisement,” Daniel reminded her. “Did you read that and decide to come out West? If so, then I’m worried that you might be disappointed. I ain’t no hero. I ain’t no reason to move your whole life.” 

There was no point in putting on any airs or graces anymore. She would soon learn that he was as unrefined as any cowboy in the West. If that wasn’t enough for her, then he’d rather she make that decision before they were legally bound to each other. 

“Not quite,” Clara said, looking down at her lap. 

“Then what was it?” he pressed, trying to stem the tide of impatience inside of him. 

Were there any nasty surprises waiting in her past? What was she hiding from? 

“Charleston…I lived there my whole life,” Clara said heavily. “And my father had my whole future planned out for me. I had no choice and no say in anything. I’m tired of being posed like a pretty little doll so that some well-to-do man might find me interesting and worthy of marriage.” 

He listened intently, fascinated by the passion in her voice. 

“I’d been seeing all these advertisements from men looking for wives in the newspaper,” Clara explained. “They all wanted strong, capable women to come out and help them and build a new life together. The more I read about what they wanted, the more I wanted to be that kind of woman. Strong. Capable. Independent. My father always said I was too young to know who I am or what I want from life. I may be young, and I’m not entirely sure what I want to be someday, but I know what I don’t want to be, and that’s some pampered princess who has to pander to an indifferent husband just so he might increase my allowance.” 

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up as he leaned back in his seat. 

Clara turned away from him, frowning as she scanned the scenery. He’d grown up in Silver Ridge, so he’d never been particularly interested in the landscape. However, he was now seeing it all through Clara’s eyes, as a newcomer who was hoping to make this her home. 

Sagebrush, mesquite, and creosote bushes grew between the small wooden buildings that made up the entirety of Silver Ridge. They’d left behind the busy main section of the town and were heading toward the chapel, which lay to the west near the grassy plains. 

A massive rocky ridge towered above the town; a spine of gray-white granite streaked with silver veins glimmered in the sun. The ridge itself cast sharp shadows along the valley floor. 

He couldn’t wait to show her the ranch, which was nestled in the grasslands. Perhaps they’d have time to stop and take in the scenery at the base of the ridge near his ranch. Daniel hoped that she would find it as beautiful as he did. 

“I didn’t want to offend you,” Clara said quietly, looking down at her hands. “I know some men consider it a great privilege to have a quiet, docile wife who’s only concerned with her family’s affairs.” 

“Not me.” Daniel snorted. 

She looked up at him hopefully. 

“I want a partner,” he said frankly. “I want someone who will work hard to keep the ranch going, and perhaps even help me to expand it in the future. Look, I won’t be able to give you much of an allowance. And I haven’t bought new clothes in…I ain’t even sure I know when last I bought clothes. Things are going to be very different for you out here. I just want you to be prepared for that.” 

“I know,” Clara said, leaning forward slightly. “I want this. I want to be your partner. I’ll give everything I have to make your ranch a success. It might take me some time, but I think I could be good at this.” 

Daniel glanced at her thoughtfully. He was sure there was more to her story, and that she hadn’t escaped Charleston simply to get a little more freedom. However, he believed her when she said that she wanted this life and that she would work hard on the ranch. And that was enough for him. 

At least for now. 

“Well then,” Daniel said, inclining his head at her as a sudden shyness gripped him. “Why don’t we go get married?” 

“Yes, please,” Clara said, beaming at him. 

The sight of her joyous smile made his heart skip a beat. He told himself that it was nerves and nothing more, but he didn’t quite believe it.