Billionaire Flawed 1(152)

 Clayton smiled, but only briefly.

 “Well that little gal is beautiful Ma’am, just like her ma,” he praised them both, adding with a belabored sigh, “The problem with this proposed arrangement, Miss—that is, Mrs.—is that a man needs certain things in a prospective wife. He needs her to be smart, hardworking, kind, reliable, and—well, I just say have to say it—not married. Or at the very least, not married until he himself ventures to marry her.” He paused here, cringing as he realized that these last words made no earthly semblance of sense. “Oh, you know what I mean! As much as I would like to welcome a bright, tough, funny and absolutely beautiful lady such as yourself into my home, surely you understand why I can’t. I cannot live in sin with another man’s wife.”

 MariAnne thought a moment, then nodded.

 “I understand this,” she released on a sigh, adding as she pinned him with an entreating look, “Yet the whole reason that we came here, Clayton, was with the hopes that you would understand. I didn’t leave my home as much as I escaped it. My daughter and I ran from a man who made our lives a living hell—ordering us about, screaming at us because of mistakes and minor slights, and even hurting us physically.” She paused here, adding as she blinked hard and suppressed a genuine sob, “He hit me, Clayton—and he threatened to do the same to my daughter, should she ever step out of line. And where my husband is concerned, I’m afraid that his line is a tough one to walk. I almost believe that he looks for excuses to hurt me—the very act seems to bring him pleasure.”

 Clayton said nothing, only took a sharp step forward and swept a stunned MariAnne into a warm, all consuming embrace; holding her tired body in nurturing arms as she rested her head on his broad muscled chest.

 “MariAnne,” he whispered her name in a comforting tone. “I’m so sorry to hear this. Just from knowing you a few moments, I cannot believe that any man would do anything but worship you, to give you and your little one the love and care you obviously deserve. No woman deserves to be treated that way, it’s true—but especially not you.”

 MariAnne nodded.

 “I still find it so difficult to believe that my parents, the angels that they are, would hand me over to that madman for the price of a dowry,” she intoned, more to herself than to a listening Clayton. “I guess that Pa never truly knew his old business pardner, the ever smiling, ever charming Leon Campbell.”

 Clayton froze.

 “Oh dear Lord,” he rasped out, clutching her closer still as he continued, “They sent you to marry the beast of this community—a man whose only previous wife died more than 20 years ago, under very mysterious circumstances. And since that time, my boss the sheriff has had to throw him in jail more than once for getting rough with women—whether they’re showgirls, fancy ladies or even proper ladies that he happened to be courtin’.”

 Shivering outright at the sound of this unwelcome news, MariAnne braced her arms around his muscled shoulders and leaned into the hard toned planes of his comforting being.

 “Thank God Ellie and I escaped when we did, and that I never did take his name,” she told him, adding as she stepped back to pierce him with an earnest look, “I understand totally, Clayton, if you don’t want us to stay here with you. I can’t be a proper wife to you until I divorce Leon; and since I don’t ever plan again to share the same room with him throughout the course of my natural lifetime, I am not at all sure about how to accomplish this goal.” She paused here, adding with a deep sigh, “When I saw your advertisement for a mail order bride, I was sitting in a train station lamenting the fact that I didn’t have enough money for passage home. If you could please lend us the money for our train tickets, I can send you some return funds when we make it back to Ma’s and Pa’s….”

 She fell silent then as Clayton shook his head vigorous in response to her words.

 “I’m so sorry Sweetheart, but I don’t think that it would be the best idea for you to go home to your folks right now. He does, after all, know your pa and will likely go there to claim you,” he informed her, adding as he took her hand between his and stared deep into her eyes, “I want you to know MariAnne, that you and your daughter are more than welcome to stay on here at the ranch—as long as you need to stay.”

 MariAnne shook her head.

 “Are you sure?” she asked him, inclining her head in what seemed to be a show of keen curiosity.