Hopes and Brides: Regency and Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  “You’re not going to get her, Gus!” John shouted, the very ground around Etta seeming to shake. “I always get what I came for.”

  “But you haven’t got the brooch, John,” Etta heard Reuben shout. “And Gus don’t have that neither. The ranch isn’t ever going to be yours.”

  John laughed harshly, the air crackling around him. “Gus is gonna find that brooch, and he’s gonna give it back to me. In exchange for this thing here.” He gestured towards Laurel with his gun, making her shriek and turn her head away – only for her gaze to snag on Etta’s face, pressed up against the boards.

  Etta saw Laurel’s eyes widen, and then she began to shake her head frantically, trying her best to keep out of John’s view. Etta knew what she was trying to say. She wanted Etta to get away, to be safe – to keep the brooch safe, as though she thought Etta still had it with her.

  “Go and fetch that brooch, brother,” John shouted loudly, as Laurel shuffled backward, away from him. “I want it, and I’m not gonna let Laurel go until I have it.”

  “There’s no guarantee you’ll give her to me anyway,” Gus replied, his voice filled with desperation. “I know you, John. I know you don’t mean a word you say.”

  John chuckled darkly, and Etta pulled herself a little bit away from the barn, looking up and down it to try and find if there was any other way to get Laurel out without John noticing. She had no doubt that Gus was right. Laurel’s life was in danger, and even if Gus got the brooch, John could simply take Laurel again to make his escape. Everything could go wrong. She had to find a way to help.

  And then, she saw it. Three boards stacked lazily against the side. With a gasp of awareness, Etta realized they weren’t nailed down; they were just sitting against the other boards. As quietly as she could, she moved one away, then another. Her breathing was coming quick and fast, her heart hammering wildly as she carefully set the last board down on the sand.

  The gap was big enough for Laurel to get through, if she crawled on her hands and knees, she was sure of it. Then, all they had to do was run. Run towards the horses and pray that the men would take care of the rest.

  Praying silently that she wouldn’t be noticed, that Gus, the sheriff, and Reuben would keep John’s attention, she peered carefully into the gap and saw that Laurel was now directly behind John. John was still training one gun on the door, but the other was hanging lazily by his side. He obviously believed that Laurel wouldn’t even think of trying to stop him or escape. His terror had too great a hold on her.

  Laurel’s eyes met hers, and Etta jerked her head, indicating that she should come towards her. She slowly withdrew her head, showing Laurel the gap where she could come through, but when she looked back into the barn, Laurel hadn’t moved an inch.

  Closing her eyes, Etta tried to steady herself. She wanted to shout at Laurel to hurry, to move quickly and decisively, but it was evident that the lady was still much too afraid. Trying to put an encouraging smile on her face, she beckoned her again but Laurel simply remained exactly where she was.

  “I’m sorry, Laurel!”

  Gus’s voice filled the barn, catching Laurel’s full attention.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gus’s voice was broken with emotion, and as Etta watched, she saw tears dampen Laurel’s cheeks.

  “I love you, Laurel,” Gus continued, calling out to her. “I always have. I’m sorry things turned out like this. This is all my fault.”

  Laurel shook her head jerkily but said nothing. Then, she looked back at Etta – and Etta saw something change in her expression. There was a determination there, a force of will that hadn’t been there before. Slowly, she began to move towards the gap in the barn wall with Etta keeping her eyes trained on John.

  John, who was still laughing and mocking Gus, didn’t pay them any attention. Etta’s heart was in her throat as Laurel shifted slowly onto her hands and knees, a floorboard creaking underneath her knees. They froze together, waiting for John to notice and turn around, but he remained exactly where he was. The sheriff was trying to bargain with him now, asking him to let Laurel go and promising that he could go on his way afterward, but John just laughed mockingly.

  “You’re almost there,” Etta whispered, as Laurel moved towards the gap in the boards. “Come on out here. The horses are waiting.”

  Tears were pouring down Laurel’s face as she crawled through the gap, her breathing ragged as she tried to find the strength to keep going. Her skirts caught on something but she carried on, unheedingly. They tore, and Etta scrambled to her feet, grasping Laurel’s arms and pulling her up.

  John’s shout of rage filled her with terror.

  “Reuben!” she screamed, half dragging Laurel as they made their way back to the horses. “Reuben! I have her! I have Laurel!”

  The sound of running feet caught her ears, and she saw Emerson coming around from the back of the barn, his eyes on them.

  “Go!” he shouted, flailing his arms. “Get to the horses!”

  Etta ran, seeing Reuben turn towards them in the moonlight before turning his attention back to the barn. Emerson stood directly in front of the gap where Laurel had crawled, making sure John couldn’t get out that way and come after them.

  “We’re almost there,” she gasped, as Laurel began to sob. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

  “Laurel!”

  She turned, seeing a figure coming after them. A scream lodged itself in her throat, but she soon realized that it was none other than Gus. Laurel recognized him too and staggered towards him, leaving Etta behind. She watched, tears streaming down her cheeks, as Gus clung to Laurel as though he was a drowning man and she the only hope of life. They cried together, words of love and sorrow winding around them both—and Etta could only clasp her hands together and watch.

  A groaning, creaking sound came from the barn, forcing her attention away from the reunited couple. Laurel let out a scream, as Gus held her tightly, seeing the barn begin to shift in the moonlight, as though it were alive. The ground seemed to shake as the sound of gunshots rang out, the barn twisting cruelly, before collapsing entirely onto itself. The splintering of boards crashed through the air, the dust billowing up around it – and then, from deep within, came a bright orange flame.

  “It’s on fire,” Etta whispered, feeling her knees go weak as she looked desperately out at the barn. “Reuben…where is Reuben?”

  The barn was burning brightly now, the lamps that had been inside igniting the wood around it. Etta staggered towards the barn, desperate to see someone, to see anyone, desperate to know that they were all safe.

  And then, as she tried to call out Reuben’s name, three figures came towards her. The sheriff supporting Emerson, and then on the other side, Reuben.

  “Etta.”

  He let Emerson go, who groaned violently and put more weight onto the sheriff. Catching her up in his arms, he held her tightly, breathing her in as relief filled them both. Etta cried aloud, sobs racking her frame as she held onto him, knowing deep in her heart that this nightmare had come to an end.

  “What about John?” Etta asked, looking up into his face and seeing the way his jaw clenched. “Where is he?”

  Reuben glanced back at the fire. “He never came out,” he replied hoarsely. “Shot a few times and caught Emerson in the shoulder, but then the barn collapsed on top of him. He’s gone, Etta. It’s over.”

  At those words, she collapsed into his neck again, tears running down her cheeks.

  “We’re safe,” he whispered into her ear, his cheek brushing against hers. “We’re all safe, Etta. Come on now. It’s time to go home.”

  Epilogue

  Two days later.

  “Here it is.”

  Etta smiled happily as Gus took the brooch from her, looking down at it for a long moment.

  “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you for everything, Etta. I don’t reckon I can ever express my gratitude.”

  “I’m just glad that Laurel is safe,�
� Etta replied, aware of just how protective and close Gus held Laurel.

  Laurel smiled, still tired and pale from all she had been forced to endure, but now with a sense of freedom and relief. “You’re coming to our wedding?”

  “When is it?” Etta asked, as Hettie came to join them.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Gus replied, making Hettie beam with delight. “I’m not letting her go again.”

  Etta felt her heart fill with happiness. “I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, pressing Laurel’s hand for a moment. “And I’m glad this brooch is back where it belongs.”

  “So am I,” said a voice in her ear, as Hettie began to discuss the details of the wedding with Gus and Laurel. “Come here for a moment, will you?”

  Etta looked up at Reuben, her fingers finding his as they walked outside together. She let out a contented sigh as he wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly in a way that let her feel both protected and cherished.

  “Etta,” Reuben murmured, as she looked up at him. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. The courage in you, the strength…it takes my breath away. You take my breath away.” He smiled, his fingers gently tracing her cheek. “The day you got off that stagecoach was the day my life changed for the better,” he continued, as Etta felt her pulse begin to race with nervous anticipation. “My mind couldn’t get rid of you. I wanted to see you. I wanted to be in your company as much as I could. I sure was glad Ma kept making sure I came to supper.”

  She laughed softly, her arms going around his neck. “I think I was the one who insisted you keep on coming.”

  “And why was that?”

  Her smile softened. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you either, Reuben. I told you that night at the barn that I loved you. That hasn’t changed in the last two days.” The words fell from her lips as though she was desperate to say them, desperate for him to hear them. “I love you, Reuben Drummond. I love you more than I can say.”

  His lips pressed to hers almost at once, taking her breath from her chest as he pulled her tight against him. She softened at his touch, her heart beating with a wild, frantic hope.

  “I love you too, Etta,” he whispered against her lips. “I know I haven’t got all that much to offer you yet. My cabin is small, and my fields ain’t quite ready, but…” He trailed off, pulling back just a little so that he could look into her eyes. “Will you marry me, Etta?”

  She laughed softly, her eyes twinkling up at him. “Of course I will, Reuben.”

  He kissed her again, harder this time, only for a squeal of delight to break them apart. Etta felt her cheeks burn as she saw Hettie standing in the doorway, her hands clasped together in an expression of delight.

  “I sure am sorry about this, Ma,” Reuben said, a little red-faced. “But it looks like you’re gonna have to find another lodger.” He looked down at Etta and brushed a kiss to her temple, sending a flurry of delight all through her. “I’m gonna be keeping Etta all to myself.”

  Jessie’s Regret

  Copper Peaks Brides

  1

  I’ve made a terrible mistake.

  Jessie Richmond, now Jessie Jackson, looked at her husband and felt her heart sink to her toes. Adler Jackson had been so handsome, so charming and friendly, that the minute she’d stepped of the stagecoach, she’d felt immediately drawn to him. Of course, he wasn’t the man she’d come to marry, but that particular rancher hadn’t been there waiting for her like he’d said he would. Jessie could still remember the fear curling in her belly as she’d traveled towards Copper Peaks from her hometown of Shelton, terrified that she was about to meet a man who would be nothing like what she’d pictured him to be. His letters had been warm and friendly, but that meant nothing. Letters could easily paint a picture of beauty or amicability, whereas the opposite might be true. That was the way of a mail order bride, though, she’d realized. Leaving one place for the hope of another, better life.

  Unfortunately, when she’d arrived at Copper Peaks, there hadn’t been anyone there waiting for her. She’d been sick with nerves, one hand pressed against her stomach as she’d waited there beside her bags, thinking that she’d been made to look a fool. It had felt like hours she’d waited there, watching the stagecoach leave again with a growing dread.

  And then, Adler Jackson had appeared.

  He’d been kind to her, his brown hair speckled with silver but his face appearing youthful still. His deep brown eyes had fixed on hers, making her fear run from her as she’d told him everything. For whatever reason, she’d let everything spill out of her and had, to her embarrassment, even started to cry.

  That was when Adler had offered to marry her himself, telling her that he needed a bride. When she’d asked if he knew her supposed husband-to-be, Martin Armstrong, Adler’s face had fallen and he’d frowned hard, looking away from her.

  That had sent a flurry of warning into her belly, telling her that Adler Jackson evidently knew more about Martin Armstrong than he was willing to say.

  “You’d be better off with me,” Adler had said firmly. “I’m a good man, I swear it. Got a house just at the edge of town.”

  To this day, Jessie couldn’t say what had made her agree. She’d told him yes and had found herself at the church before she’d known it. She’d been so happy, so relieved and so thrilled to be a bride, that she’d never once thought about Martin Armstrong.

  Less than a week later, her happiness had evaporated completely, her shame mounting with almost every hour that passed. The house Adler had taken her to was dirty and not at all well looked after. Adler hadn’t been the kind, generous man she’d thought him. He treated her as though she were some sort of hired help, except that there was no money paid for what she did. She’d learned that he’d been meant to marry a girl coming the very next day, but he’d decided that she’d do just as nicely, and so he had convinced her to go get hitched. That just proved to her that Adler didn’t care about any other living soul except himself.

  Of course, whilst there was truth in the fact that Adler was a farmer, she’d come to realize that he had very little to do with his farm, which was a bit out of town. He’d hired men to look after it for him and didn’t even live at the place, having wanted to be closer to town—or closer to the saloon, as she’d come to realize. Once, when she’d asked him, he’d told her that he’d been left money from some wealthy relative, which meant he didn’t have to do much at all. That didn’t bring her any sort of happiness. She’d expected her husband to work hard, to make something of his life. Instead, all she had was Adler, who looked at the saloon as though it was his place of work.

  To make things worse, Martin Armstrong had come to Adler’s door, shouting and hollering that he was the one who’d been meant to marry Jessie, only for Adler to laugh in his face. Jessie had winced and hidden away from the front door, embarrassed to hear how her husband mocked Martin Armstrong, his hateful, coarse words biting and snarling.

  That night, Adler had gone out to the saloon. He’d not come home until the early hours of the next day and had passed out just on the threshold of the house. What she’d had to clean up when she’d found him still made her stomach churn. Unfortunately for her, this had become a regular occurrence, and now, a little over a month later, she was in a pit of despair over what she’d chosen to do.

  It was rare that she left the house, her embarrassment biting at her still. She’d heard from Mrs. Draper, the lady who lived next door to them, that Adler had been meant to marry a lady named Etta, who’d come to Copper Peaks the day after Jessie had arrived. Jessie had met Etta once in church but hadn’t said a word to her. Sundays were the day when she went to sit with the rest of the town in the small church where she’d gotten hitched, only to rush out again the very first moment she could without speaking to anyone. Even now, she had no idea who Martin Armstrong was, the man she’d meant to marry. She didn’t even know what he looked like. All she knew about him was that he was a rancher who lived out of town, and th
at she’d hurt him terribly.

  “Jessie?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Jessie steadied herself as she held her broom tightly in her hand. Adler stumbled in, a wide grin on his face although his eyes were a little unfocused. Her stomach tightened with sudden fear as he lurched towards her, but she forced herself to remain still. Adler had only once taken her to his bed, but even then, he’d fallen into a drunken sleep before anything had happened. She’d been waiting for him to try and do the same again, although she prayed that perhaps Adler believed they’d consummated their marriage, even though he couldn’t quite remember it. Every time he touched her, every time he drew near her, she felt her skin crawl and her heart slam wildly into her chest with fear.

  “I—I’m gonna head out to the farm,” he said, putting a tight hand on her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

  “The farm?” Jessie repeated, her voice trembling just a little. “You don’t need me there, Adler. I’ve got plenty to do around here.” She’d only been to the farm once and hadn’t liked the way the hired workers looked at her. There had been a leer on one or two of the men’s faces that had terrified her while Adler seemed to find the whole thing hugely enjoyable. It was as if he liked showing her off, clutching at her waist and pulling her against him whenever he could, while the hired men had chuckled under their breath.

  “I ain’t asking, Jessie,” Adler replied darkly. “You get yourself ready—else it’ll be all the worse for you.”

  Jessie caught her breath but tried not to show her fear. A tight smile on her face, she set the broom aside and went to do as Adler had told her, not sure what he’d meant by it being “all the worse” for her if she didn’t, but certainly not wanting to wait around to find out what he planned on doing.