A Bride for Clay
The Proxy Brides Book 2
By Marianne Spitzer
© September 2018
This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the written consent of the author.
Acknowledgments
There are many people I would like to thank for their help and understanding while I wrote this book, but first and foremost, I want to thank God for all His blessings. I also wish to thank my family and friends for their patience and understanding when I disappear into my writing world especially my son, Lance, for his unwavering support. Last, but by no means least, I would like to thank my loyal readers who read my books and leave reviews. I couldn’t do this without you. You’re the best.
The cover was created by the talented Virginia McKevitt. You can find her on Facebook at Virginia McKevitt, Author.
Chapter One
Wyoming Territory 1870
Mid-morning May sunshine filtered through a few of the barn slats as Clay Hutchison spoke quietly to the horses to calm them. The night’s previous storm had left two of them a bit skittish. He rubbed the forehead of the last horse and pushed out through the barn doors into the bright sunlight. He squinted at the figure moving down the lane toward their ranch.
He called to his brother, Wade, working in the corral, “Buggy’s coming. Looks like Doc Weldon.”
“Why is Doc here? I thought grandpa was feeling better,” Wade replied slapping his dusty work gloves on his thighs before following Clay to the front of the house.
“Not sure, let’s ask,” Clay mumbled while he walked up to the doctor’s buggy. “Is something wrong, Doc?”
Doc raised his hand in greeting before climbing out of the buggy. “Not that I know of. I told Hutch I’d stop by sometime to see how he’s doing.”
“His cough is better,” Clay offered. “I’ll water your horse while you visit grandpa.”
“Thanks, Clay. I shouldn’t be too long,” the kindly old doctor said as he climbed the stairs to the front porch. He was met by Cora, the housekeeper, who invited him into the house while the two men stood and wondered why Doc would visit when their grandfather wasn’t ailing as bad as the week before.
Wade shrugged and returned to the corral while Clay cared for the doctor’s horse.
Fifteen minutes later, Doc appeared and said he needed to hurry to another call but stopped long enough to tell Clay to make sure his grandpa got a lot of rest and no stress. Clay scratched his head as he watched Doc leave wondering what was so crucial that he had to rush off. He always stayed for some of Cora’s pie and coffee. He intended to find out but was stopped at the door by Cora. “Your grandfather is asleep. Best be quiet and let him rest. I think he’ll be awake for the noon meal.”
Clay strode to the corral and waved at Wade. “Come here. We need to talk.”
“What? Did Doc say something about grandpa?”
“Just that he needs more rest and less stress. Cora wouldn’t let me in. Said he was sleeping,” Clay explained.
“What? She can’t do that.” Wade’s temper flared. “She’s just a cook and housekeeper.”
Clay grabbed his arm before he could storm off to the house. “You know better than that, Wade. She’s cared for grandpa and us since ma and pa died. She’s more than a cook and housekeeper.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Wade grumbled, “but I still don’t like it.”
The men were still discussing the matter when a second buggy appeared coming down the lane. “Who is that now?” Wade wondered aloud.
Clay answered, “It’s Mr. Williams.”
“Why would grandpa’s lawyer be here on a Saturday morning? Let’s find out.”
Clay followed Wade, and the two of them met the buggy in front of the house. Before Wade could say a word, Clay offered, “Grandpa is asleep, Mr. Williams. Doc says he needs more rest.”
“Exactly why I’m here young man,” the aging lawyer answered as he did his best to climb down from the buggy gracefully.
Clay was going to ask what he meant but was interrupted by Cora when she opened the front door. “Come in, Mr. Williams. Mr. Hutch is waiting for you.”
Wade and Clay exchanged confused glances and sat on the porch determined to get answers as soon as the lawyer left. They waited for more than an hour.
Mr. Williams rushed past them and didn’t offer any more information than they already knew. Wade stormed into the house determined to get some answers. If their grandfather was relapsing, he intended to find out and right then.
He held up a hand, “Don’t try and stop me, Cora. I am going to see grandpa,” Wade insisted.
Cora waved the wooden spoon she was holding. “Don’t be insolent, Wade Hutchison. You need to learn respect.”
“Get out of my way,” Wade spat and barged past the normally good-natured housekeeper.
Clay shook his head and asked Cora to make some coffee. “I’ll make sure Wade doesn’t upset grandpa.” Cora just nodded and left the parlor.
Clay found Wade standing at the foot of their grandfather’s bed. “He wants us to think he’s sleeping, but I know he isn’t. He’s breathing too hard.”
Grandpa Hutchison opened his eyes and glared at his grandson. “I was resting. Both of you sit down and listen to me.”
Clay and Wade obeyed and pulled two chairs close to the bedside.
Grandpa cleared his throat, and another coughing spell wracked his body, but he drank water from the glass on the bedside table and lay back against his
