by Natalie Dean
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About Author – Eveline Hart
First and foremost, I am the mother of a handsome two-year-old boy. He is my pride and joy. We currently reside in a small beach town in the South. I have always loved writing, but until recently, never considered writing books. Just recently, I’ve decided to try it out, and I hope you enjoy reading these books just as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. Thank you for taking the time to read my books.
Author’s Note
This is the third Western novella I’ve written. Here’s my disclaimer, as an up and coming author, I don’t have the funds to pay for a professional editor or cover designer, so please, kindly excuse any mistakes you may find. I want to write more books in this series, especially if I hear from you, the readers, that you want to hear more of these stories! Please either join my Exclusive Reader’s List or engage on my Facebook page to let me know if enjoyed what you read. Do you have ideas, themes or topics you’d like me to write about? If so, let’s hear it!
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BONUS BOOKS SECTION: Descriptions Included
MAIL ORDER BRIDE COLLECTION
SPRING ROSE
SPRING ROSE
A Western Romance Short Story
Book Description
A feel-good mail order bride story that will leave you wanting to read more…
Mary Rose Jenkins was accustomed to feeling unwanted due to her less than perfect looks. After the death of her husband, it was do or die as she was left to run a ranch on her own. Now, after all the hard work she’s had to do, Rose feels she looks even more desolate than before. Especially when she sees the way the women look at her when she rides into the small town of Hope, Michigan for supplies.
What she really needs is an extra pair of hands for the ranch. Having been a mail order bride once herself, she decides that the only sensible solution is to put out an ad to obtain a husband. Can Rose open her heart to love? Or will past hurts continue to haunt her and keep her heart hardened?
Copyright 2017 by Kenzo Publishing - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document by either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SPRING ROSE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter One
Mary Rose Jenkins was a proud woman. Her pride was a direct result of a need to protect herself. Never again would she suffer the things she had already weathered. Thus, she was thought of as a cold woman. Plain in appearance and dress, the other women who cast their gazes on her whenever she ventured to the little town of Hope, were struck by her simple, and at times, brusque manner. She didn’t attend church. She didn’t attend any of the social events which were so carefully planned. The largest flaw in her character was the ridiculous men’s clothing she wore with no regard to social etiquette. She was virtually alone in the world, and their concern was less on her possible devastating loneliness and more on how scandalous it was that she would dare try to run a ranch on her own. A woman running a ranch! Some things were not meant to be.
Rose drove her wagon to the mercantile store, her head straight and held high. She knew they were whispering behind her back. She knew her presence would be worth at least a week of gossiping. It didn’t matter. She was on a mission. She had a letter to post. Not really a letter in the traditional sense. It was an invitation which would be published in Matrimonial News. If a man could seek out a wife in such a callous, unfeeling way, then she too could offer her services in the same manner. If truth be told, she needed another husband. She couldn’t go through another planting and then harvesting season on her own. It was too much, and she desperately needed the crop; not only for her own survival of body, but for the financial gain it would bring. She mused that her reasons were essentially one in the same.
Rose had been a mail order bride herself once. A young woman of eighteen, pushed by her parents to find a husband. They had carefully cautioned her that her straight lackluster brown hair and ordinary brown eyes might not attract a spouse by more conventional means. Her mother had patiently explained that they didn’t have the family money to attract a husband either, and then there was her broad shoulders and stocky build. Rose ghosted a smile at that memory. Her broad shoulders and stocky build had only helped her on the ranch. Sometimes blessings are disguised.
Rose parked her wagon and tipped her hat to a passing couple as she stepped onto the wooden planking in front of the mercantile. Ruddy Thompson was the proprietor, and it was guaranteed that he would give her a welcoming smile. He never judged the fact that she usually appeared in town wearing men’s britches and a chambray shirt. He never cared that she wore a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun from her face. He didn’t even care that she had dirt under her fingers nails. He was always fair, and at times so generous with Rose that it brought a frown to his wife’s lips as she busied herself with the store ledger, or hastily ran a feather duster over their slower moving products.
“Good morning, Rose!” Ruddy called out from behind the main counter. Laura stopped her dusting and grimaced as she stepped down from the step stool behind her husband.
“Morning to you, Ruddy. Laura.” Rose barely nodded her head to the frowning woman.
“What can I do you for?” Ruddy beamed. “I reckon you are about out of supplies.”
“I have a small list. I also have this.” She pulled the letter from her coat pocket and handed it over with her carefully written list of items.
“Laura, can you gather Rose’s things?”
Laura took the little paper with a sniff and moved away.
Ruddy studied the piece of mail in his hand, lifting his eyes uncertainly to Rose. “Matrimonial News? Are you sure you want to do this?” His eyes shifted to the side, and he waited for his wife to move even further away. Laura Seawell knew her eavesdropping was obvious.
“I really don’t have a choice. I need the help.”
“You could hire.”
Rose shook her head. “That’s not a good option. Lance and Virlin already stretch themselves thin by allowing Thad to come over a couple of days a week. I can’t continue to rely on others. If I don’t get this crop in the ground, I won’t be able to support myself much less a hired hand.”
“I understand.” Ruddy solemnly nodded his head. He pursed his lips as his wife came back within earshot with the items from Rose’s list. “Seems to me that the good book talks about caring for the orphaned and widowed. Seems to me like the Christian ladies of this town would be happy to lend you a hand or see to it that you had the help you needed.”
Rose cast a quick glance at Laura’s red face. She had recognized the complaint from her husband was directed at her as well as those who weren’t present.
“That may be so, Ruddy,” she began slowly, “but I expect the women of this town have their own agendas currently.”
He nodded and began tallying her items. “You came in
time. Your post should make it onto the morning stagecoach. That’ll be a dollar and a half.”
Rose reluctantly handed over the money in coin. Her can that sat on the mantle over the fireplace was down to a measly three dollars. She hoped it would last.
“Thank you,” Rose said and took the sack Ruddy offered that held her items. She left the same way she had come in, head high and chin pointed forward.
Ruddy turned on his wife once Rose was out of the store. “I don’t understand you, woman!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed as she went about her dusting.
Ruddy would not be put off that easily. He followed her and waggled a finger at her back. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about! Why haven’t any of the women tried to help her? She’s a widow!”
Laura turned to him with a decided exhalation of air. “She is not a proper woman! She dresses like a man, behaves like a man, and has a distinctive air of superiority! Now, what are we to do with that?”
“She dresses and acts like a man because she’s been forced to do a man’s job. She has never behaved as anything short of a lady when she’s in here.”
Laura flicked her duster over the tops of the candy jars. “She doesn’t even attend church services.”
“I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to sit shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of hypocrites either.”
Rose mulled over her ad for Matrimonial News as her horse began its steady pace out of town. The wagon jostled her lightly as she held the reins loosely in her hands. She hoped the ad wouldn’t be too scant, but she hadn’t wanted to be too wordy. Men were often put off by wordy women. They didn’t know how to handle it and often misinterpreted it as mouthing off. She had practically memorized her ad, going over it many times before she was satisfied.
Woman of 28, five feet and four inches, still in childbearing years; seeks arrangement with a gentleman of close relation in age to attend to the needs of a flourishing ranch.
She grimaced once again over the use of the word ‘flourishing.' It wasn’t a total lie. The potatoes were dug out of the ground from the previous season in abundance. She was hoping for an ever better amount for the current season. The flax was another story. Flax did well in the west, or so she had heard, but Northern Michigan did not offer the soil it truly needed. At least not on her land. The cattle and hogs were thriving. The chickens too, but she worried that they weren’t fat enough. If they stopped laying eggs, then she would really be in trouble. The summer vegetables would hopefully come in better than the year before. She needed to stock up on her supplies in the cellar.
Then there was the issue of where Matrimonial News was published. California, Kansas, and Missouri were not Michigan, but perhaps there were others who chose to have it sent to them too, even though they often got it later than those in the three main publishing areas. Rose didn’t care from where a man may hail as long as his back was strong.
Rose sighed and tilted her face to the warm sun. It was a glorious day, and she intended on enjoying it. The hours ride back to her place offered her time to think. It offered her a moment of peace, although all she would hear once she returned home was the low mooing from the cattle and an occasional cluck from the chickens. In truth, she was lonely. Needing a man was as much about the ranch surviving as it was about her own human needs.
Chapter Two
Rose rode into town exactly one month after she had posted her ad and although she didn’t truly think she would have a response so soon, she was pleasantly surprised when Ruddy handed her a letter. The return address was from Missouri, and she thanked him with a rare smile before taking the letter to her wagon.
She sat on the bench seat and opened the letter with trembling fingers. It was short, but someone with a fine penmanship had laid ink to the paper.
Dear Mary Rose, I am an eligible widower of thirty-two, standing at six feet and one inch. A man acquainted with the running of a farm, I am eager to return to that life. I am softly spoken with a gentle hand, and only have need for my Bible and a hearty meal to nourish my bones. If you think we could have an arrangement, please respond post haste. Sincerely, Cyrus James.
Rose carefully closed the letter and stared ahead of her with a light frown. He sounded as stuffy as an old man! His Bible and a hearty meal? She would need a man working side by side with her. She wouldn’t have time to cook extravagant meals! And a gentle hand? She shook her head at the thought. Men didn’t keep a gentle hand for long. She knew that by experience. All this aside, she didn’t have time to be choosy. It was the first week of April and her crops needed to get in the ground. The only thing that was on schedule was the winter wheat, and that would need to be harvested in June.
Rose slowly pulled away from the mercantile, stopping a short distance away and turning her horse back. She had pocketed her ink and her nib pen and had carefully folded a piece of wood pulp paper that she had been saving for the special occasion of corresponding with a prospective man. She had a precious few pieces left.
Rose went back into the mercantile and approached Ruddy. Luckily Laura was nowhere to be found.
“I need to put pen to paper for a response. May I use a corner of your counter?”
“Of course, Rose. Take all the time you need.”
Rose nodded her head once and went to the end of the counter where there was more free space. Laura used it to cut bolts of cloth for female customer’s preparing to make dresses or clothes for their families.
Rose smoothed out her paper and thought for a moment before she dipped her pen in the ink and began to write. Sometimes it was better to just push forward and not allow the clamor of one’s own mind to weigh a person down.
Dear Mr. James. Thank you for your hasty response. I am looking for an expedited resolution to my problem. My ranch is in dire need of assistance. Please respond if you may be willing to at least see my conditions and my person for yourself. Sincerely, Mary Rose Jenkins.
Rose folded the letter and was dismayed as she realized that she hadn’t thought far enough ahead. She had forgotten an envelope.
“Ruddy, can I purchase a single envelope?”
“No need to purchase it, Rose. I’ll give you one of my own. That was a quick response!” He smiled, his thinning black hair shifting as he bent behind the counter. “I suppose you will will need a postage stamp too?”
“Yes, please. I have money.”
Ruddy shook his head. “Allow this to be my gift to you.” He took her folded paper and placed a stamp on it. “Stagecoach will take this out this afternoon.” He smiled happily. “You know the way the railroad is booming, soon mail will be able to be delivered across the country with ease. We have the Southern and Central lines now, and who knows how much more will come.”
“That will be a fine day indeed,” she agreed.
“Will you be back soon?”
“I will be back…perhaps soon. I have a lot to do.” Rose turned and left the mercantile, leaving her friend, her only real friend, staring after her with a heavy heart.
Chapter Three
Rose placed a hand at the base of her back and massaged gently. May tenth, May tenth and all that she had in the ground was potatoes, corn, and sugar beets. The wheat would be ready in less than a month, and her heart clenched in despair. Thad hadn’t been able to come help since March. His father had taken a fall from one of their horses, and his presence was understandably required at home. Rose had even wasted a full day away from her own work to assist Virlin with some of her washing and mending. Lance was expected to make a full recovery, but it would take time, and he wasn’t fit to work the fields until he could walk again. It was of no matter. Neighbors helped neighbors. That was a good theory. Rose, in the end, had been grateful for the reprieve of her own place. It had been the first time she and Virlin had been able to sit and talk properly, and Rose had been amazed by Virlin’s open and quiet spirit. Maybe someday, when time permitted, she could visit Virlin again. Maybe Vir
lin would be the one woman of the Hope area who would offer up friendship.
Rose stopped to pick up her hoe, turning as the sound of an approaching wagon caught her attention. She shielded her eyes to the sun and tried to determine who was coming to visit. She really couldn’t think of a soul, considering that she never had visitors unless it was young Thad coming to offer a hand, but the wagon was coming from the wrong direction for that to be possible. It was coming from town.
Rose frowned slightly once she saw Ruddy’s hand lift and wave. A gentleman in a fine suit sat next to him, but Rose didn’t recognize the face. She narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth. If it was another banker come to offer her a quarter of what her place was worth, she would be telling him exactly what she thought! The onslaught after Virgil had died had been ridiculous! The greed in some men’s minds to the point of taking advantage of a widow who was all alone in the world was shameful!
Ruddy brought the wagon to a stop next to her small clapboard house, and Rose began making her way towards them slowly. The man hopped down from the wagon and turned a circle taking in the scenery with a smile. A stray couple of chickens pecked near his feet, and he didn’t even shoo them away. Maybe he wasn’t a banker after all. Bankers didn’t care for dirt or animals, but they were sure fired up to buy and sell them!
The man was gangly with broad shoulders and when he removed his hat a fluff of wavy black hair appeared and began to blow in the breeze. He had an easy face that held a grin as if it were the most natural of all expressions.