Hideaway Frontier Bride
October 6, 2025 (Edwards and Williams)
What's a gal on the run to do when a handsome stranger proposes?
When whimsical Sadie Brandywine ran away to keep from singing in saloons to pay her stepfather's gambling debts, she hardly expected to fall in with a chivalrous cowboy. All she's ever wanted was a proper home and family. So, when he propose marriage to protect her reputation, she jumps at the chance.
Jacob Willets has one dream: to start the first school in his remote area of Washington Territory. The most scholarly cowboy on his family's ranch, he's more comfortable with his books than the ladies, so he's shocked when Sadie accepts his proposal. But he quickly learns that nothing about Sadie is as simple as yes or no.
Between his boisterous matchmaking family and the danger stalking Sadie, Jacob's dreams begin to change. Now he just has to find a way to convince Sadie to turn their marriage of convenience into a true love match.
Buy now
Directly from me
Amazon (affiliate link)
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords
Apple Books
Bookshop.org (paperback, book benefitting local bookstores
Books-a-Million (paperback)
Reviews
"A beautifully crafted story. I found myself smiling several times as I read it. If you enjoy Historical Romance, then reading novels by Regina Scott is a MUST!" -- Huntress Reviews
"Regina Scott has done it again with this book. I couldn't put it down because I got so caught up in the characters. I loved it and highly recommend this book." -- Cris Hoxie Reviewer
"Absolutely delightful! Regina Scott has outdone herself with this latest edition in the Frontier Brides series. No cookie-cutter hero or heroine allowed. Combine these unusual characters with lyrical prose and vivid descriptions of Washington Territory and you have a book that I found unputdownable." -- Amanda Hart
Excerpt
Chapter One
Near Olympia, Washington Territory, June 1877
Sometimes a lady had to risk everything for a chance at a better life.
Sadie Brandywine took some pride in that, even if she was more concerned about the consequences of that risk. The handsome fellow with the spectacles was here again. She raised her flounced skirts and tiptoed to the opening in the blockhouse floor, careful not to let herself be seen.
It wasn't hard. The old two-story building had been constructed well. No gaps showed in the plank flooring, and no rain had dripped through the cedar-shingled roof since she'd taken refuge here early Saturday morning. By the amount of dust on the upper floor, where she'd hidden, she'd assumed the place to be abandoned.
But this fellow certainly intended to make use of it.
Panic had seized her when she'd first heard the voices below yesterday. Had Chauncy found her? Had he brought help to cart her back to Puget City and force her up on that stage again? Her gaze had bounced from log wall to log wall. No way out except that little square hole in the floor.
Stupid, Sadie! You've trapped yourself!
But the longer she'd cowered in the corner, her cape tugged close, the more her pulse had slowed. That wasn't Chauncy's Southern drawl wafting up to her. And the other voices were female. There! One called the other Jane, another Joy. And he must be the Jacob they mentioned.
Husband, wife, and daughter? No, brother and sisters!
She blew out a breath. She was safe. Well, not exactly safe. Nothing said one of her visitors wouldn't poke a head up through that hole. And even if they didn't, she'd run out of food. She'd only been able to stuff some smoked salmon, a boiled egg, and a few slices of rye bread into the pockets of her velvet cape from the free table in the saloon before she'd slipped out into the night.
The full moon had been enough to guide her through the little town on the shores of Puget Sound, but the road had led up a steep hill through a forest that smelled of cedar and dew. Every rustle of the ferns, every movement among the trees, had set her heart to pounding. Still, she would rather have faced some wild denizen of the darkness than what waited behind her.
The eastern sky had been brightening as she'd come up onto a plateau, where fields rippled in the breeze until they ran up against another line of forest. As she'd trudged along, she'd spotted a farmhouse here, a barn there, but she hadn't dared to stop and ask for help this close to Puget City. Word might get back to her stepfather, Chauncy.
And then she'd seen the blockhouse rising in the distance. Someone in Puget City had mentioned it had been built during the Treaty War to shelter the farmers and ranchers who called Hawks Prairie home, but they must have been on better terms than most settlers with the tribes, because the blockhouse had never been needed.
Still, an empty two-story log house in the middle of the prairie suited her just fine. Chauncy and her mother would never look for her there. They'd assume she'd gone to some hotel and bartered her way into a room by singing while men leered. She was never going to do that again. Once had been enough.
Her fingers scrunched the tarnished satin folds of the dress now, even as her face scrunched at the memory.
"Just one night, honey," her mother had crooned, blond curls straggling from her pins. "You know I'd sing if I could."
Her mother had been singing to pay for Chauncy's excesses for eleven years, ever since she'd married the man when Sadie was ten. But Sadie taking her mother's place on the stage wouldn't be for just one night. Mama's voice was cracking. She wouldn't be able to pay Chauncy's way onto the gambling tables much longer, and Chauncy would use Sadie like he'd used her mother.
Sadie wasn't ungrateful for the many things he'd given them when his luck was running high, but she wasn't willing to hand him her life.
So, she'd sang one song and darted off the stage before he could stop her. Snatching up her cape and some food, she'd run. She hadn't even taken the time to change out of the performance gown her stepfather had forced her to wear. It was too big for her, and it smelled of tobacco smoke and stale beer. And no lady would ever appear in public with this much flesh showing above! One of the governesses she'd had over the years had impressed that point upon her, even though Sadie's mother wore low-cut gowns when the family's circumstances required her to perform.
Now, Sadie craned her neck to spot the spectacled fellow as he crossed below her. He'd stripped off his coat and hat, and his gingham shirt showed off solid shoulders. He'd brought more of the long wooden benches with the overhanging shelves. He couldn't seem to arrange the awkward-looking desks to his liking, shoving them first one way and then another on the dirt floor. Even she could have told him that would stir up dust. Already it speckled his russet hair like sugar on a cake.
She leaned back, then crossed quietly to the window overlooking the front of the blockhouse to see if his sisters had come too. All the windows were covered in narrow wooden slats, likely designed to protect those who took shelter here. She could just make out a black horse in the yard, cropping the green grass. The beast didn't seem to be tied to anything. Sadie and her family had only owned horses once or twice, when Chauncy had been flush from winning, but the horses had been the first things to go when he'd lost, so she really wasn't too sure of the creatures.
"We just need more room."
The frustrated mutter rose through the opening. More room? She'd slept spread out in one corner of the upper floor, and there'd been at least two more times her five-foot height between her stockinged toes and the opposite wall. Two hundred and twenty-five square feet on each floor seemed plenty enough room to her. Why, that was bigger than the fanciest hotel room Chauncy had ever splurged on!
Boots thumped across the dirt below. She froze at the window. Then she heard the sound she'd been dreading: the creak of the ladder as someone started to climb.
No way out. No place to hide. She swallowed and put on her best smile.
His russet hair came into view, then those silver-rimmed spectacles. Behind them, she could make out gray eyes. Those eyes widened as they settled on her.
"Good morning," Sadie said with a little wave.
He started and disappeared. And the thud below told her she'd done something her scurrilous stepfather had never managed no matter how many times he'd been accused of cheating.
She'd killed a man.
Jacob Willets woke up confused. Hadn't he been in the old blockhouse? Was he back in his bed? His pillow was a lot softer than he remembered. And there was water on his face. Was the roof leaking?
"Oh, please don't be dead," a sweet voice begged.
It came back to him in a rush. Trying to find the optimum arrangement for the benches where the students would sit. Climbing the ladder to see whether it would be feasible to move some of the supplies up to that floor. Sighting a golden-haired angel where no one was supposed to be.
Falling.
His hand groped around him. "Where are my spectacles?"
"Oh, sorry." A hand swam into view before settling his frames awkwardly on his face. Jacob adjusted them and managed to focus on his surroundings.
The angel was holding him, his head cradled in her lap. Golden curls waved about her face. Tears tracked down those pearly cheeks from eyes that were almost as purple-blue as a prairie violet, and her rosy lips trembled.
Maybe he was dead. Or dreaming. No lady had ever cried for him.
He reached out and touched her face, feeling the warmth of the soft skin. Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes widened in evident shock.
This was no dream.
He dropped his hand even as his face heated. "I beg your pardon. But who are you? Why are you in the blockhouse?"
She rallied, forcing a smile. "Oh, good. You're alive, and you're sensible. I thought maybe I'd killed you."
"No," Jacob said. "I appear to be alive." He managed to sit up, and she stood. He blinked. That dress might hang on her, but it was a red none of his sisters would dare try, and it boasted lace and fringe in too many places. It was also cut so low at the neck he could make out the V of her bosom. He wasn't sure where to direct his gaze without being improper.
"I'm sorry," she said, hands wringing in front of her. "I didn't intend to scare you. I was traveling through the area, and I needed a place to stay. This seemed safe. I didn't realize someone was using it." She bent suddenly and ran a hand across his forehead. He was so surprised he nearly collapsed again.
"No bumps," she reported, straightening. "Do you have a headache?"
He rubbed the side of his face, feeling the beginnings of stubble. "It's fading." Putting a hand to the dirt floor, he started to rise.
Pain stabbed through his right leg, and he dropped back onto the dirt, raising a puff of dust.
She waved it away before crouching beside him, eyes wide once more. "What's wrong?"
Jacob swallowed the bile that was rising. "I seem to have hurt my ankle." Gingerly, he turned his leg one way and another. His boot felt too tight, as if he'd pulled on one of his younger brothers' boots by mistake. Sprain, or worse?
He put out a hand. "Would you help me up?"
Immediately she reached for him. She wasn't very strong. His sister Jane would have been able to lift him. But, wiggling this way and that, he managed to lever himself upright, careful to keep his right leg from the floor.
"I should be able to ride home," he said. "It's not far. Could you help me to my horse?"
Her hands were wringing again. "I heard it bolt, and I don't know where it went."
Jacob sighed. "Figures. Lily isn't the bravest of horses." In fact, his brothers tended to call her Lily-Livered because she was remarkably easy to spook for a horse meant to herd cattle.
"What will you do?" she asked plaintively.
She didn't offer to go find the horse, but someone who dressed like that might not know much about horses. She didn't suggest she could locate help either, but he couldn't blame her there. She wouldn't understand the folks of Hawks Prairie like he did. She might suspect they'd turn her away.
"My family knew where I was going," Jacob said, hobbling over to one of the benches he'd built. "Lily will run for the barn. As soon as one of my brothers or sisters sees her, they'll come check on me. You needn't feel obliged to wait if you were on your way out."
She glanced toward the door. "I don't mind. It's not like I have somewhere else to be."
Jacob frowned. He'd only visited a saloon in Olympia once, to bring home the wayward son of another family in the area. She certainly dressed like one of the women who had cavorted across the stage at the back of the room, setting the men to howling.
"Won't you be expected to, um, work?" he asked.
"No." She said the word so firmly he might have thought he'd asked her to jump in a pond in the middle of winter. "I don't work. Leastwise, I don't work the way you think I work." She plucked at the satin skirts. "I wore this dress for the first time two nights ago, and I can promise you, if I had anything else, I wouldn't still be wearing it."
Two nights. He and his sisters had been in and out of the blockhouse yesterday. She must have stayed hidden, watching them. Why hadn't she made her presence known?
He was a logical man. Some of his brothers would say too logical. Maybe that's why her story didn't make sense to him. Why wouldn't she have something else to wear if this was the first time she'd donned that dress? If she was traveling through, why stay so many days in the blockhouse? She would have been able to get water from the pump outside, which still worked. What was she eating?
"Where exactly are you heading?" he asked.
She took a step away from him. "Far from here."
Jacob leaned back on the bench, trying to keep weight off his leg, which ached worse every moment. "Most folks have a more specific destination than that."
She raised her chin in the first act of defiance. "Well, I don't. I go where the wind blows."
Some of the ranch hands they hired for roundup or branding said the same thing, but he'd never heard of a woman with that philosophy. Surely it wouldn't be safe.
"Well," he said, "so long as it blows you out of the blockhouse, I guess we'll both be happy."
Her pretty face puckered. "Do I have to leave right now? No one else is using it."
Not today, but he had plans. Though one rancher in particular had protested, the other families who had helped build the blockhouse and the family who had originally donated the land had all agreed to allow Jacob to turn the site into the first school on Hawks Prairie. His mother had been his teacher, as she'd taught the rest of his nine siblings. She'd instilled in him a deep love of learning, and he intended to pass that love on to the next generation.
Pa had often said that each man must find a way to leave his mark on the world, to make it a better place than when he entered it. This school was going to be Jacob's contribution.
"As you can see," he explained gently with a wave at the benches lined up across the dirt floor, "the building isn't abandoned. With any luck, we'll have a school here within the next month. We have the slates, desks, and other supplies. All we need is the teacher."
"A month," she said, seizing on that part of his statement. "I can be here a month. I won't be any trouble."
Jacob shifted his weight again to ease the ache. "I'm sorry. My family and I will be in and out, setting the place to rights. And once I find the teacher, he or she will be taking up residence on the second floor. There are rooms to rent in Puget City…"
She was shaking her head so violently, he changed course. "Or Olympia. Perhaps I can arrange to have someone transport you there."
"I'm not going to Puget City or Olympia or any town in this area," she declared. Then she held up a hand as he opened his mouth to suggest an alternative. "I have some thinking to do about my next steps."
"Don't you have family or friends who could take you in?" he asked, perplexed by her attitude.
Her face slumped, and tears pooled in her eyes. "No."
The one word was so filled with hurt that he stood before he thought better of it. Immediately pain ricocheted up his leg. Gasping, he thudded back onto the bench.
"Oh, you poor thing!" She sat beside him and reached for his hand. "I'm so, so sorry! Is there anything I can do?"
She had no family or friends. She appeared to own one dress, which fit her badly and would make others think the worst of her. By her own admission, she had nowhere else to go.
And she was worried about him.
He squeezed her dainty hand. "I'll be fine. My name is Jacob Willets, by the way. Who do I have the honor of addressing?"
"S-s-s-Sadie," she stuttered. "Sadie Brandywine." Then she dropped her gaze. "But please don't bandy that about. It might mean the wrong thing to some people."
He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but before he could ask, a thunder and rattle said they had company. Jacob smiled as he pulled away from her. "Sounds like the cavalry has arrived."
She stood in a rush of scarlet and ran for the ladder.
"Wait!" Jacob cried. "It's all right. That will be my family."
As if to prove as much, his older brother Jack's voice echoed from outside. "Jacob! Jacob! Where are you?"
"In here," Jacob called.
His younger sister, Jane, stomped into the blockhouse, then pulled up short. Tattered work bonnet pressed down on her fiery hair, she looked from him propped on the bench to Sadie standing with her hands braced on the ladder.
"Good afternoon," Sadie said in the same lovely voice she'd used when he'd first spotted her.
Jane put her hands on the hips of her calico gown, fingers brushing the gun belt that cinched the material closer to her figure. "What have you done, Jacob?"
"I seem to have hurt my ankle," he said, refusing to mention how. "Miss Brandywine was kind enough to assist me. I take it you brought the wagon?"
Jack pushed in behind Jane. Low-crowned hat covering his red hair, he too looked from Jacob to Sadie and back, frown gathering over eyes a darker shade of gray than Jacob's.
"You've been gone for three hours," Jack informed him. "When Lily returned without you, we expected trouble. You all right?"
"I've been better," Jacob said, putting out a hand. "If you'll help me up, I think I can hobble to the wagon."
Jane tipped her head toward their unexpected guest. "What about her?"
Jacob's gaze met Sadie's. Her eyes dipped down in the corners in a silent plea for mercy.
"Miss Brandywine is coming with us," he said. "She needs a place to stay for a few days. I'm sure we can oblige."
Buy Now
Directly from me
Amazon (affiliate link)
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords
Apple Books
Bookshop.org
Books-a-Million
Extras
Frontier Brides: Taming the West one cowboy at a time.
