Herd the Heavens (The Bride Herder Book 8) Read online

  Herd the Heavens

  The Bride Herders, Book #8

  Jo Grafford

  Contents

  Also by Jo Grafford

  About this Series

  Introduction

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1: Flight Enthusiast

  Chapter 2: The Gift

  Chapter 3: A Lack of Indifference

  Chapter 4: Better Acquainted

  Chapter 5: The Challenge

  Chapter 6: Two’s A Team

  Chapter 7: Chaperone Interference

  Chapter 8: Balloon Race

  Chapter 9: Epilogue

  Sneak Preview: Hot-Tempered Hannah

  Sneak Preview: Angel Cookie Christmas

  Read More Jo

  Also by Jo Grafford

  Mail Order Brides Rescue Series

  written exclusively by Jo Grafford

  Hot-Tempered Hannah

  Cold-Feet Callie

  Fiery Felicity

  Misunderstood Meg

  Dare-Devil Daisy

  The Lawkeepers

  A Multi-Author Series

  Lawfully Ours

  Lawfully Loyal

  Lawfully Witnessed — coming October, 2019

  Lawfully Brave — coming December, 2019

  Ornamental Match Maker Series

  A Mini-Series within a Multi-Author Series

  Angel Cookie Christmas

  Star Studded Christmas

  Stolen Heart Valentine

  Miracle for Christmas in July

  Whispers In Wyoming

  A Multi-Author Series

  His Wish, Her Command

  His Heart, Her Love

  Other Multi-Author Series Books

  Silverpines Series #27 —Wanted: Bounty Hunter

  Silverpines: The Bounty Hunter’s Sister — coming soon!

  Sailors and Saints #3 — The Sailor and the Surgeon

  Bride Herders: Herd the Heavens

  The Belles of Wyoming: Wild Rose Summer

  Brides of Pelican Rapids: Rebecca’s Dream — coming September, 2019!

  Her Billionaire Series

  written exclusively by Jo Grafford

  Her Billionaire Boss

  Her Billionaire Bodyguard — coming soon!

  Lost Colony Series

  written exclusively by Jo Grafford

  Breaking Ties

  Trail of Crosses

  Into the Mainland

  Higher Tides (Series Finale) — coming soon!

  To receive a personal email each time Jo releases a new book, sign up for her New Release Email at www.JoGrafford.com or follow her on Bookbub at www.bookbub.com/authors/jo-grafford.

  About this Series

  Take one failed rancher turned matchmaker and ten unexpected women looking to become brides. Put them all together in a house in Bent, Colorado. What could possibly go wrong?

  Book #1 — The Bride Herder by George McVey

  Book #2 — Herd the Music by Lynn Donovan

  Book #3 — Herd to Breathe by Amelia Adams

  Book #4 — Herd to Love by Christine Sterling

  Book #5 — Herding the Hellions by Danni Roan

  Book #6 — Herd to Handle by Ginny Sterling

  Book #7 — Playing Herd to Get by Natalie Dean

  Book #8 — Herd the Heavens by Jo Grafford

  Book #9 — Herd to Please by Jenna Brandt

  Book #10 — Herding Her Heart by Kit Morgan

  Introduction

  Bertha Langston (who prefers to be called Bert) is far more interested in tinkering with her inventions than becoming a bride. Her latest passion is hot-air ballooning, which doesn’t make it easy for matchmaker Chance Redburn and his lovely new wife, Violet, to find her the perfect groom. In fact, it makes the task next to impossible!

  Kane Jameson, cowboy by day and innkeeper by night at the Black Barrel Inn, sees no point in marrying and settling down any time soon. Life is one big adventure, and he’s fairly certain it doesn’t begin and end in Bent, Colorado.

  Until Bert Langston bursts uninvited into his group of friends at a town picnic to join their debate about the future of air travel. He finds himself so enchanted by her careless beauty and much-wrinkled gown that he accepts a dare from his brother and business partner, Griff, to do whatever it takes to capture her attention on a more personal level — as her next suitor!

  Copyright © 2019 by Jo Grafford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-944794-37-8

  Acknowledgments

  Many, many thanks to Trudy Cordle, Jhommie Giorla Kem-ing, and Amy Petrowich for beta reading and sharing their insight on this story. I am also wildly grateful to my Cuppa Jo Readers on Facebook for reading and loving my books!

  New readers are always welcome to join us at https://www.facebook.com/groups/CuppaJoReaders for book chats, sneak peeks, parties, cover reveals, games, giveaways, and more!

  Much love, Jo

  Chapter 1: Flight Enthusiast

  Bert

  Bertha Langston dragged her spoon around her soup bowl, trying to block out the cheerful prattle of her lunch companions. Dear heavens! If she heard another word about dresses, sashes, proper manners, or courting, she was going to scream.

  She’d traveled all the way to Bent, Colorado, to marry and be done with it, for lands sakes — not endlessly discuss and debate the horrid but necessary institution of marriage. It wasn’t her fault that Miss Redburn, the matchmaker she’d been corresponding with for months, had passed of pneumonia right before her arrival into town. It wasn’t her fault that the woman hadn’t left her nephew, Chance, any clue as to whom her ten latest brides were to marry. His new wife, Violet, had proven rather skilled at helping unravel that mystery in recent weeks. Together, the two of them had succeeded in finding matches for seven of the young brides-to-be so far, including Violet’s own marriage to the new matchmaker, himself.

  However, they’d utterly and miserably failed to find the perfect match for her thus far. Again, not her fault.

  “Bert?” Violet Redburn delicately cleared her throat. “Bert Langston?”

  “Yes?” The fact she’d convinced the members of their household to use the shortened version of her name was her one small victory. She swallowed her irritation and raised her gaze from the diced vegetables floating around her bowl to meet her benefactor’s mildly censorious brown eyes.

  “I know the last few weeks have been difficult for you. For all of us.”

  Though the former school teacher’s words were kind, Bert shrugged, sensing another scolding was forthcoming. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Please be assured that Chance and I,” Violet reached across the corner of the table to clasp her new husband’s callused hand and treat him to one of her sunny, slightly crooked smiles, “are doing everything possible to find you a match. What we need from you is a little more…enthusiasm with the process.”

  Bert resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d attempted to rub elbows with every dusty cowboy and townsman they’d nudged in her direction, hadn’t she? Surely, Violet and Chance weren’t blaming her for their own bumbling attempts at matchmaking or their frustrating lack of interest in any of the things that made her happy. Her inventions, for instance. Right now, she was tinkering on a new design for a hot-air balloon, yet the Redburns had not scraped up a single prospective beau for her who possessed the faintest interest in air travel. Quite the contrary. They’
d stared at her like she was some monstrous oddity every time her conversation strayed from light, meaningless chitchat.

  “I’m trying,” she muttered, at a loss for anything else to say. The truth was she had no idea how to attract the attentions of a gentleman. The other truth was she didn’t much care. She was far more interested in her inventions than the prospect of settling down and starting a family with some dusty cowpoke she barely knew.

  “I know you are, dear,” Violet soothed. “What we’re asking is for you to try harder.”

  An awkward silence settled across the dining room. The two other brides, Abigail Bowen and Jasmine Hammond, ceased their cheerful discussion about the dresses they were wearing to the upcoming town picnic. Well, technically, Jasmine was doing all the talking and Abigail was doing all the listening. Both of them beheld Violet with expressions of open-mouthed fascination.

  Just what I needed! Bert curled her upper lip. An audience to witness my nonstop humiliation. Her mind raced across her dismal prospects. She didn’t possess the funds to purchase a train ticket home to Boston. And what a disappointment that would be to her impoverished family if she did! They could barely keep enough food on the table for her four younger siblings. They desperately needed her to find a match and make her way in the world. Which left her in Bent, Colorado at the mercy of Chance and Violet Redburn. For now, at least…

  “Well.” Chance broke the silence at last. He stood and stooped over his wife to brush a kiss against the top of her head. “It sounds as if you ladies have this matter well enough in hand. If you’ll please excuse me.” His longish blonde hair tumbled rakishly across his brow, half-hiding his green eyes, but not enough to hide the wink he shot in Bert’s direction. “I’ve business to attend to with a horse dealer.”

  “Darling!” Violet protested. “I didn’t think he was arriving for another few hours.”

  “True.” Chance affectionately tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But first, there’s paperwork to prepare and other, er, matters that need my attention.”

  Bert hid a grin behind her hand. Lucky man! She recognized an escape attempt when she saw one. Unlike her fellow brides, she’d approved of him from the start. They were kindred spirits. He was plain spoken and honest, two traits she understood and respected, and he was no more interested in being a matchmaker than she was in being matched. He meant well, of course. He’d proven again and again that he possessed a kind heart where the young women in his care were concerned. She could work with that.

  “Ah, Mr. Redburn?” Her words made him pause in his rapid retreat from the room. “Before you leave, I’ve been meaning to ask if I could set up shop in a corner of one of the barns out back. Maybe, the older one you don’t use for much besides storage?” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant but couldn’t quite snuff out the pleading note. She was growing desperate. There just had to be some place on his and Violet’s sprawling estate where it was quiet enough to hear her own thoughts, where she could dream and sketch her ideas, where she could house her growing supply of tools and materials for her inventing projects.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Bert saw Violet give Chance a slight shake of her head, but he was no longer looking at her. He was observing Bert with sly consideration. “I might could find a bit of space for you to tinker with your gadgets.”

  At his wife’s gasp, he held up one tanned finger. “That is,” he warned with a twinkle in his eyes, “if you will agree to attend the town picnic and dance this evening with Rafe Adams.”

  Jasmine tittered and clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, looking a tad guilty. She allowed her sable hair to fall forward to hide her face.

  “Surely, you’re jesting.” Bert made no attempt to hide her dismay. “Rafe isn’t the least interested in courting me, and everyone in town besides you knows it.” Nor was she the least interested in courting him. He seemed like a decent bloke, but he bored her senseless.

  “I think Rafe is rather afraid of her, sir.” Abigail’s voice was kind but firm.

  Bert glanced up, amazed to hear the young bride-to-be string so many words together at once. Abigail had entered their lives a complete introvert. Braving the perils of matchmaking together, however, had made her comfortable enough around Bert and the other brides to end her silence. “He’s one of those gentle souls, whereas Bert is, well…Bert.” Her expression was infused with her own unique brand of sweetness and understanding that took the sting out of her observation.

  Violet nodded vehemently. “I think Abigail has a point, dear.”

  “Nonsense!” Chance clapped his Stetson on his head. “Rafe’s a carpenter, and Bert’s an inventor. I say they’re plenty compatible. All they need is a little more time in the pen together.”

  Bert snorted out a laugh at his constant inability to view matching brides and grooms any differently than he viewed cattle and horse breeding. “It’s a deal, sir. If you give me a bit of space to work out back, I promise to dance with Rafe this evening until he’s dizzy.” An easy promise to keep, since she was a horrible dancer. He’d probably take home a few bruised toes, as well. She stood and sauntered towards Chance, holding out her hand.

  “I don’t know about this,” Violet sighed.

  “It’s a deal.” Chance Redburn clasped her hand in his large paw and winked again. “So long as you keep your end of the bargain, I reckon I can have a stall cleaned out for you by nightfall.”

  “You can count on it, sir!” She shook his hand heartily, wanting to break into a joyful jig right there in the corner of the dining room.

  “I know I can, lass.” He reached out to tug the thick braid of dark hair that had come uncoiled from atop her head and now hung over her shoulder. “You might want to let one of the other girls help you polish yourself up a bit before the dance.”

  “I will, sir. I’m much obliged, sir.” She took no offense at his jibe at her lack of hairdressing abilities. Jasmine would enjoy fussing over her. All she’d have to do is bite her tongue and endure it.

  Violet rose and spun after her husband in a swirl of blue and white checkered skirts. “Wait for me, love. I’ll walk with you.” There was no mistaking the agitation in her voice.

  Bert slowly turned back to the table with the intention of retrieving her plate and carrying it to the kitchen to be washed. She stopped short at the sight of Jasmine and Abigail standing shoulder-to-shoulder, facing her with determined expressions.

  Jasmine reached out to jiggle the same braid Chance had tugged on. “I believe you agreed to submit yourself to our stylish ministrations.” She was the only other bridal candidate as short as Bert, which Bert appreciated. She was tired of craning her neck up at the others.

  “Right now?” She shot a distressed look over her shoulder, but the Redburns had already disappeared.

  “Yes, now,” Jasmine retorted. “It’s only a few hours before the dance, and you’re a full day’s work.” She slowly circled Bert, tweaking at her skirts and bending down to dust something off her hem. “It’s a good thing there are two of us to take you on. Abigail has just agreed to help me.”

  Without taking their eyes off Bert, the two women shook hands like a pair of soldiers sealing a pact.

  I’m outnumbered. This is so unfair! “What about Beans?” she blurted in desperation. Their grizzled old cook’s real name was Clarence McGruder, but he preferred to be called Beans. “We have to stay and clean up first. You know how cantankerous he can be about leaving the dining room a mess.”

  For an answer, Jasmine clapped her hands smartly three times. To Bert’s surprise, Mrs. Long, one of the widows from the Ladies Auxiliary, sailed into the room. She began to gather their empty plates and silverware along with their discarded linen napkins.

  She treated Bert to a hard-nosed look over her spectacles as she worked. “Well, what are you waiting for, girls? Run along now.” Not a single gray hair was out of place in her severe up-do, and her white blouse and navy skirts were starched to perfection.
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  So very outnumbered! How did this happen? Shaking her head, Bert grudgingly followed Jasmine and Abigail into the hall and up the stairs to their rooms. “Beans will have a fit,” she threatened. “You know he hates it when anyone invades his kitchen, especially Widow Long.” The two of them seemed to butt heads on a regular basis about how the kitchen should be run.

  Jasmine sniffed and waved an unconcerned hand. “Their ongoing tiff is no concern of ours. Though I’ll admit I quite enjoy how many rounds of kitchen duty it’s gotten us out of.”

  “You’re shameless!” Bert hissed, slowing her pace as Jasmine flung open Bert’s bedroom door.

  “You’re a fine one to talk,” Abigail admonished gently. She gave Bert’s shoulders a nudge from behind to speed up her entry into her room. “Yes, indeed, we found that pair of trousers you hid under your mattress.” She shut the door smartly behind her and stood there with her arms folded like a general around one of the books she was forever clutching. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Bert’s chin came up. “Yes, they are mine. I happen to think riding sidesaddle is foolish; my way is much safer. I only hid them because I knew the two of you would act like complete nincompoops if you found out about them.” She glared defiantly at her fellow brides.