A Mail-Order Chance (Miners to Millionaires Book 5)

  A Mail-Order Chance

  Miners to Millionaires - Book 5

  Janelle Daniels

  Dream Cache Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Titles by Janelle Daniels

  Traveling to her mail-order groom, Ellie Richards was confident the ranch he’d promised her upon their marriage would solve all her problems. But after a robbery gone wrong, she’s kidnapped off the train and doesn’t know if she’ll make it out alive.

  Posing as a member of a notorious gang, US Marshal Declan James has slowly worked his way up the ranks, piecing together evidence to uncover the mastermind behind the recent train robberies. Things don’t go according to plan once Ellie is taken hostage, and now he must keep her safe while maintaining his cover.

  When the gang’s leader become suspicious, Ellie and Declan fake an attachment to protect her. But when the need for escape rises, she must risk trusting a man with a shaded past or chance losing everything…including her life.

  To sign up for Janelle Daniels’ mailing list and receive notice of new titles as they are available, click here.

  To Jennifer for being such an amazing friend and beta reader. You rock!

  And to Dan. You’re the best chance I ever took.

  Chapter 1

  When one of the hands at the Big W Ranch told Ellie Richards she pooped gold bricks, she was done. Heaven above, that was the last straw.

  “Pa, I’m leaving home,” she announced, throwing clothes into her trunk.

  He leaned against the doorframe, completely unconcerned. “Sugar Cube, Hank didn’t mean anything by it. He was trying to compliment you.”

  She shoved two pairs of breeches into the trunk next to the few dresses she’d packed, which were the ones she mainly wore to weddings and church functions. When you practically managed a ranch, dresses weren’t required. “I know exactly what he was doing. It’s what they all do. They think if they can do a lil’ sweet talking, drop a few compliments here or there, that I’ll fall madly in love, marry them, and hand over this ranch. Well, they’re wrong about that.”

  Her father sighed and looked up at the rafters. Ellie’s jaw clenched, but she held her tongue. After all she’d done for him and this place, he still treated her like she was nothing.

  Like she was a woman.

  The fact that she was a woman had absolutely nothing to do with it. He treated her like one of those brainless girls, the kind that sit in the parlor all day, sipping lemonade and embroidering. As if she’d ever embroidered anything in her life. The closest she’d ever come to that was when she stitched up her saddle.

  She slammed the trunk closed. “And just because I might have an eye for horseflesh, doesn’t mean I poop gold. Who ever heard of anything so ridiculous?”

  “He was just trying to say that—”

  “Yes, well, I don’t care to hear what he was trying to say. I’m done with them. All of them. I’d rather die than marry one of the hands, or any man in the area for that matter.”

  Her father gave her a small, condescending smile.

  He’d gladly taken the help she’d given him over the years, but he’d never really appreciated her. And he never would until she did something that made him sit up and take notice. That wasn’t possible at the Big W. “There’s something I want to ask you, Pa.”

  He uncrossed his arms and stepped in the room. “Ask away.”

  “Will you leave me the Big W? When you pass, will everything we’ve worked for come to me, or will you give it to someone else?”

  He shifted his eyes away, shuffling his feet. “It’s complicated, Sugar Cube—”

  “No, Pa. It isn’t.” Ellie willed back the tears. She wouldn’t mar this last conversation with her father because of them. She wouldn’t give him a reason to treat her like a weak female. She may have been born the wrong sex for the life she wanted, but she refused to fall in line with typical women’s behavior. “It’s a yes or no question. Either you’ll leave it to me, no matter what, or you won’t.”

  “If you marry—”

  She held up her hand. “That’s answer enough.”

  Black and white. It was right there. Her father would never leave her the ranch, and she refused to marry someone just so they could get their grubby paws all over what was hers. No, she’d take the bull by its horns and force the world to acknowledge her for who she was on the inside, and not just the body that others saw.

  “There’s plenty of men who want to marry you.”

  “None that will ever see me for who I really am.”

  “And who are you, Sugar Cube?”

  She’d written to an Ivan Pavlova in Montana months ago, when she’d been fed up with how she was treated at the ranch. She’d been uncertain until this very moment if she’d go or not, regardless of the money Ivan had sent her. But she couldn’t back out now. Ivan had asked her to arrive several months after their correspondence—something about Thanksgiving and a holiday wedding, or some other such nonsense—but she was grateful for that now, because had he wanted her there even a month ago, she wouldn’t have gone. She hadn’t been ready to make that leap, but she was now.

  She tucked the letter she’d received from Ivan a few months ago into her back pocket. “The soon-to-be wife of Ivan Pavlova and owner of my own ranch.”

  His brows lowered. “Who’s Ivan Pavlova?”

  “My mail-order groom.”

  “You can’t marry a man you don’t know.”

  Her father’s quick jerk in her direction put her on alert. “Of course I can. Women do it all the time. I’m a mail-order bride, Pa.”

  She refused to take a step back when his hand clenched. He wouldn’t intimidate her.

  “Mail-order brides come here to marry men. They don’t leave from here. We don’t have enough women for all the men as it is. You’re not leaving. I forbid it.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  His nostrils flared, and his chin rose up in the same stubborn tilt as hers. “If you leave, you won’t get a dime from the Big W.”

  Her chest constricted. It’d finally come down to this. She had always wanted more than her father was willing to give. She didn’t care about the financial aspects of the ranch, she never had, but she’d always wanted her father’s respect. It was the one thing she’d never been able to earn. “I wasn’t going to get anything from it anyway.”

  And with those last words to her father, she hoped after she left, he’d see how much she’d done around there. Maybe some part of him would find value in her work now that he had to do without it.

  But even as Ellie thought that, she knew it wouldn’t happen. He’d just replace her with someone like Hank. Because cowboys always stuck together.

  And this cowgirl was done with it.

  No matter what, she would make her arrangement with Ivan work. She’d marry him to make her ownership of the ranch legal, if that’s what he wanted. If he was willing to hand over the keys to a ranch to her, without interfering in her work and only expecting a tidy profit in return, she’d be happy. It would all be hers.

  And no one would ever think of her as lesser, just because she was a woman. Ever.

  Who could, when she would own the largest cattle ranch in Montana?

  Ivan would solve all of her p
roblems.

  Ellie just knew it.

  Ellie scowled at the amber-colored dress she wore. It wasn’t ugly; it was just a dress.

  On her body.

  She squirmed in her seat, again, resenting every poke and prod of her corset. She’d gotten too used to the heavenly freedom that came with breeches and a shirt. She should’ve worn them to meet Ivan, but for some reason, when she realized the next stop was Promise Creek, something in her—a womanly-part of her she was loathed to admit—wanted to show her future husband that she wasn’t only an odd woman who could rope and ride better than most men, she was beautiful too.

  Not that it mattered, as looks didn’t help run a ranch. In fact, they made doing so even harder. If she were plain, or mannish, men would be more apt to follow her orders. When encased in breeches and a shirt, it was hard to conceal her curves, and she’d caught one too many cowboys staring when she walked away, instead of carrying out their duties.

  But if her blond-haired, blue-eyed looks helped her seal the deal with Ivan, she was willing to use them to her advantage.

  She didn’t doubt his offer of marriage for a moment. He’d paid for her travels and had provided a generous stipend for the trip. No man would do that unless he was serious in his request.

  But just in case…

  She wiggled and cursed in a way no lady should know how to do.

  She’d never pretended to be a lady, at least not until this moment.

  As she moved around, attempting to get comfortable, the derringer hidden in a pocket of her dress clunked against her leg. She wasn’t willing to go without it, even if such things weren’t necessary now that she was on the train.

  In truth, since she was a young girl and her father had taught her how to use it, she hadn’t gone without it. It was a reminder that, while she may look different on the outside today, fully showing the wealthy Eloisa Richards, she was still just Ellie on the inside.

  As the conductor walked by, she’d barely lifted a finger before he was by her side. “What can I do for you, miss?”

  That was a lot easier to get his attention than she’d thought it’d be. She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her dress. “Sir, do you have any idea how much longer it’ll be before we reach Promise Creek?”

  “About four hours, miss.”

  Four hours! It was like a death sentence. Four more hours in this get-up, and she’d be wishing for death. She whimpered.

  “Miss?” he asked with concern.

  She gave him a false, bright smile. “I’m fine. Just a little uncomfortable.”

  He nodded as if understanding completely. By all appearances, she was a fragile female, and sitting on one of those benches for a prolonged period of time was difficult for such a delicate constitution.

  Poppycock.

  She was no more fragile than the man standing in front of her, and could guarantee no man could last even half as long as she already had in the torture device she was wearing.

  “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist you,” he offered, before tipping his hat.

  “Thank you.”

  She muttered as he walked away, twisting and cursing in her seat. Maybe she should take the corset off. She was slender enough to get away without wearing it.

  She glanced over her shoulder and her annoyed eyes met a pair of amused ones from another passenger. The slow smile that spread across the scruffy man’s face made her heart beat a little faster and managed to piss her off.

  Her eyes narrowed at his amusement, intending to glare him into submission. She never turned away from a challenge; not on the Big W, and certainly not here.

  His green eyes held hers, until he finally shrugged and leaned back, tugging his hat off his unruly brown hair and setting it low over his eyes, as if he couldn’t be bothered with her any longer.

  A faint snore came from his direction.

  Was he...sleeping?

  She whipped her head forward. She wouldn’t waste another second of time on such an infuriating man. If he found pleasure from laughing at miserable women, then he wasn’t worth the dirt on her heels.

  The thought brought a slow smile to her face. There was something about seeing cowboys fall in the mud, face-first, when they got out of line. It humbled them in the most satisfying way. She wished she could see Mister Scruff in the mud too, brought down just a notch.

  She shifted in her chair, searching for a more comfortable position with little luck. It looked like she’d either have to tolerate the corset for the next four hours and be a grump when she arrived in Promise Creek, or take it off and look disheveled when she saw Ivan.

  She gritted her teeth. She’d set out to impress him, and she would not back down from that goal because of her discomfort. She’d sit here for ten hours if need be.

  The train’s brakes screeched, and she wondered why, since they weren’t anywhere near a town. Then Ellie jerked when a woman screamed and a man’s loud voice immediately followed.

  “Nobody move!”

  Her head whipped to the scruffy man standing at the back of the car, two guns up and pointed at the other passengers. It took only a second before her surprise wore down to pure outrage.

  He was holding them up? Well, wouldn’t he be surprised when she pulled a gun out of her pocket instead of money. Looks like he would get something better than mud on his face. A bullet in his gut would show him the error of his ways.

  Anyone who took advantage of others—preying on them, hurting them—deserved everything he got.

  “If you all do as I say, I promise no one will get hurt.” His voice was strong, with a hint of a smoky rasp to it, as if he’d been sitting around a campfire too long. It was just the kind she was partial to, but she’d never feel anything but loathing for this man.

  The connector doors to the train slid open and another ungroomed bandit came in, a red bandanna obscuring his face. Did they have something against baths or a shave?

  The masked man darted a glance around the group before his eyes reached his partner. “Dec, being the baby, I thought you might’ve needed help back here.”

  He almost sounded disappointed not to have caught his partner in bad circumstances.

  Mister Scruff, or Dec, whatever his name actually was, acted like he didn’t hear anything. “Have they finished yet?”

  “They need a few more minutes.”

  Dec swore and Ellie’s lips twitched. The more things that could go wrong for them, the better.

  She glanced up at the other bandit and met his eyes—eyes that lit up when he saw her.

  Fiddlesticks!

  He walked down the aisle, and Dec stepped up to block the other man’s step. “What are you doing?”

  The bandit glanced from a suddenly imposing Dec, to her, then back. “If we have a little extra time, we should take whatever these lovely folks have in their pockets.”

  A woman passenger nearby began to cry.

  Dec’s jaw firmed. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  The bandit raised a gun to Dec’s chest, but Dec didn’t flinch at the danger. Instead, he stood like stone, fury lighting his eyes. It was the kind of anger she’d learned to back away from.

  While her dad and the ranch hands had tempers, they mainly were just blowing off steam, and then were fine. But this was unlike those times. Occasionally, a man was hired on the ranch who had this look.

  He never lasted long.

  What she saw in Dec’s eyes was pure rage. You couldn’t reason with it; you couldn’t control it. It boiled until it exploded, and heaven help anyone who was around.

  This man was much more of a threat than she first realized. Her fingers twitched toward her gun, but with two men and only one shot, she wasn’t sure it would help the situation.

  “Get out of my way.” The new man jabbed the gun in Dec’s chest.

  With a level of control she’d never seen, Dec, the scruffy man who’d laughed at her discomfort earlier, stepped back, acquiesc
ing to his partner, who then had the audacity to laugh.

  Oh no, she thought, this is it. It’d been a miracle Dec had backed down, but no person could hold that kind of fury in check, especially when provoked.

  Fire still lit in his eyes, but he didn’t lash out, instead, he simply stepped aside.

  How was he controlling it?

  The man with the red bandanna twirled with his guns pointed out, like he hadn’t a care in the world. He wouldn’t care if someone died today. He wouldn’t care about anyone but himself.

  He laughed. “As you can see, all you fine folks, this is a holdup.” He pointed his gun at a man who half-rose from his seat. “Sit down. You won’t get a second warning.”

  He smiled cruelly when the man sat back down. “I’ll pass my hat around, and I want you to empty everything from your pockets and purses. If I find you holding something back, I’ll shoot you.”

  The collection hat started in the front row and slowly weaved farther back as the train crawled to a stop.

  Gunshots sounded somewhere, either inside or outside of the train, but she couldn’t pinpoint where. Possibly another passenger car? How many were there on this train?

  The hat passed to her, and she tossed in the few dollars she had.

  When she passed the hat on, the masked man stepped up to her. “Uh uh, sweetheart. I think you forgot something.” She sucked in a breath when the muzzle of his weapon met her mother’s cameo. “Wouldn’t want you to forget this and force me to shoot you, would you?”

  She gulped down both tears and anger. The man was demanding the only thing she had of her mother. “Please! I’ll give you everything else, but please don’t take that.”

  It killed her to beg, but if she needed to, she would. She couldn’t let him take that from her.

  “Everything else, eh?” He grabbed her, yanking her against him, as if that had been exactly what he’d wanted her to say. “I’ll take that bargain.”

  With an arm wrapped around her waist, he moved her to the door of the car.