Christmas Male Read Online Free PDF Page A

had been a long time since she'd seen a mustache and beard so scruffy and unkempt.
    "Well, that's what you told me." She glared at him more fiercely. Angry, no, she was furious. Look at him, unemployed and spending his day drinking. And what about his clothes? By the looks of them, not to mention the odor, he'd slept in those garments for several nights and days running. She straightened her shoulders. "I'm Maggie Carpenter."
    "Huh?" Chester blinked twice, his face slack while he attempted to engage his mental faculties—if he had any. Clearly they were hampered by the empty whiskey bottle that sat in the center of the table and the tankards of ale.
    "Chester, it's her." Delbert yanked himself to his feet, loose-limbed, apparently very intoxicated too. Equally as bedraggled, he was a slightly shorter, much rounder version of his brother. He scratched his head, probably hoping that would help him to think. "It's that woman."
    "What woman?" The third brother hauled himself drunkenly to his feet, hooking one arm over the back of his chair for support, swaying badly.
    "She's the one Chester wrote all them stupid letters to," Delbert answered. He tossed his head back and gave a harsh hoot of laughter. "That dumb mail-order bride."
    Dumb mail-order bride?
Maggie gasped, reeling from the shock and humiliation. Her heart shattered, taking all her dreams with it. The daydreams she'd woven while working at the laundry, scrubbing men's shirts over a washboard ten hours a day. She'd imagined her life here, of happily-ever-after and a family of her own. She'd woven fantasies about how tender and strong her future husband would be, how well he would treat her and especially how thoroughly he would love her both day and night.
    "This is that stupid woman?" The bartender gave a big belly laugh, nearly dropping his pitcher. "You don't mean she really came? That she believed all those ridiculous things you wrote?"
    "Yep, looks like she did," Chester laughed so hard he couldn’t stand up. He dropped back into his chair, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh, that's a good one, that's funny. I guess you owe me a buck, Lester."
    "Guess I do." The third, youngest brother reached into his pocket and counted through his money clip. He tossed a greenback on the table. "I'll be damned. She's really here. I didn't think any decent gal would be that desperate."
    Laughter echoed in the room, peals and peals of it, magnifying in the rafters and ringing in her ears. Shame filled her. Embarrassed, she lifted her chin. Staring into the faces of the men who'd lied to her and who made fun of her honest search for love, she realized how naive she'd been. Chester, with his slovenly appearance, mean eyes and heartlessness was everything she'd been trying to avoid.
    "If I wanted to associate with a loser," she said with all the dignity she had, "I would have stayed in Holbrook and married the town drunk. But I was looking for a man a good deal better than you, Chester Collins."
    "Ooh." The bartender set down his pitcher, a weasel-like smile twisting his pallid face, and headed her way. "I like a feisty gal. If you're desperate, you could head upstairs with me and we could pretend to be married for an hour. I'd pay."
    Horrified, Maggie took a step back, realizing suddenly she was outnumbered, that the men were in almost a complete circle around her. All mirth had vanished, replaced by something much darker. A trickle of panic skidded down her spine. What had she gotten herself into?
    "Oh, all I'd need is five minutes with her." Chester moved in too, predatory, no longer seeming as drunk or relaxed as he'd been. Every muscle tensed, he was beefier than she'd first realized. Stronger.
    "Face it, Chester," Delbert growled from behind her. "You'd only need two minutes to get the job done."
    "All right, that's enough, boys." A different voice rang out, booming with authority, from the direction of the front door. Only then did she realize cold air wafted through the room,