The Anonymous Bride by Vickie Mcdonough

seriously, how about this one?” Mark tilted the paper as if to see it better. “‘Twenty-five-year-old woman seeks man to marry. Must be a godly man of high character and gentle heart. I have light brown hair, blue eyes, and no visible blemishes—’”
     
    Garrett looked up from his plate. “Wonder what that means? You think she’s got a big mole on her back like a shooting target or something?”
     
    Mark curled his lips. “I didn’t interrupt you.”
     
    “Yes, you did.”
     
    Mark shook his head but continued reading. “‘I prefer a man who lives west of the Mississippi River.’”
     
    Garrett leaned back with one arm dangling over the back of his chair as he sipped his coffee. “Light brown hair, blue eyes, huh? Might be a good idea to order up a bride that has different coloring than Rachel.”
     
    “Aren’t her eyes light green?”
     
    Garrett shook his head. “Blue, like I imagine ice would be if it had a color.”
     
    “Oh, yeah. That’s right. Hmm ... how about a brunette? Here’s one. ‘Black-haired/black-eyed woman, age 18, seeks husband. Can cook and sew. Prefers to marry rancher. No soldiers.’”
     
    “Well, that puts Luke out of the picture.” Garrett stood and took his plate to the sink and added it to the towering mess. It wobbled but didn’t fall. “A brunette is a good idea, though. Or maybe we could order him a choice: blond, brunette, and a redhead.”
     
    “You’re loco, you know it? What would you do with the other brides? What if Luke didn’t want any of them? Then you’d be stuck caring for a henhouse full of females. This is a bad idea, I’m telling you.” Mark tossed the paper toward the middle of the table. He shoved back his chair, stood, and carried his plate to the counter. “One of us needs to do these dishes ’fore we get ants in here.”
     
    “I’ll flip you for it. The winner needs to take the horses over to Dan’s and get them reshod before he gets too busy.”
     
    Mark nodded, and Garrett tossed the coin in the air. It spun around, reflecting the morning sunlight coming in the kitchen window, then plunked onto the floor. It wobbled around before settling on heads. Garrett grinned. As oldest, he was always heads. “Better luck next time, brother.”
     
    Mark scowled but picked up the bucket. “Getting one of those brides for us sounds better all the time. I wouldn’t mind having a woman around to cook and do the cleanin’ and washin’.”
     
    “That would mean one of us would have to get married.” Garrett bumped his brother’s shoulder with his own. “You think you’re ready?”
     
    Mark looked up at the ceiling as if deep in thought. “Could be.”
     
    Garrett lifted his brows at his brother’s confession. “I guess we aren’t getting any younger, huh?”
     
    “Not today.”
     
    The door creaked as Mark opened it, reminding Garrett he needed to grease the hinges. Things would change a lot if one of them was to marry. Would they lose the closeness they enjoyed as brothers? Still, being married did have its benefits. He glanced at the paper, formulating an advertisement for Luke in his mind as he walked toward the barn. He lifted his head, enjoying the crisp scent to the air after the overnight storms. In the barn, he fed the horses and grabbed the water bucket, stopping to lean on the fence rail. “Hmmm ... let’s see.”
     
    Town marshal wants wife who can cook, sew, and clean.
     
    “Nah, better to not be so picky.”
     
    Town marshal wants wife who can cook.
     
    He considered Luke’s height. He was a good six feet himself, so that must have made Luke six feet two. He thought about his cousin’s hair and eye color. Those things were important to women.
     
    Town marshal, 6'2", dark brown hair and eyes, wants wife who can cook.
     
    What else would a woman want to know? That he’d been a soldier? Thinking about that one ad, he mentally marked that off his list.
     
    Maybe that was enough. Garrett didn’t know