A Match for Sarah
Marlene Bierworth
Marianne’s Mail Order Brides Book 2
The Marianne’s Mail Order Bride world, concept and some characters are (c) 2021 by Christine Sterling. It is based on The Pinkerton Matchmaker Series (c) 2018, created by Christine Sterling. This book is an authorized spinoff from the Pinkerton Matchmaker Series.
Copyright © 2021 Marlene Bierworth
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without written permission of the author, Marlene Bierworth, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, character and events are the product of the author’s imagination. While the author has tried to be historically correct, her goals in this book are great characters and storytelling. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals, is purely coincidental.
Series Note
The Marianne’s Mail Order Bride world, concept and some characters are (c) 2021 by Christine Sterling. It is based on The Pinkerton Matchmaker Series (c) 2018, created by Christine Sterling. This book is an authorized spinoff from the Pinkerton Matchmaker Series.
Special Thanks
To the Lord, Jesus Christ, who inspires me daily to write.
To all the ones at home that support and encourage me along this path.
To my editors Elise Abram, Amy Petrowich, Teresa Baur & Debbie Turner
To my cover artist, V. McKevitt, who did an awesome job.
To the great authors in this series and especially to Christine Sterling who birthed the vision for Marianne’s Mail Order Brides.
To my support team, ARC and proofreaders, who aid in my success.
And to all the wonderful readers who continue to read and enjoy my books. It is for you I write this story.
Be sure to read all the books in this series.
Book 1 – A Match for Collette, by Lynn Donovan
Book 2 – A Match for Sarah, by Marlene Bierworth
Book 3 – A Match for Esther Rose, by Lynn Donovan
Book 4 – A Match for Hannah, by Marianne Spitzer
Book 5 – A Match for Willa, by Christine Sterling
Book 6 – A Match for Victoria, by Christine Sterling
Book 7 – A Match for Althia, by Linda Carroll-Bradd
Book 8 – A Match for Clarissa, by Caroline Clemmons
Book 9 – A Match for Lilah by Marisa Masterson
Book 10 – A Match for Polly, Laura Ashwood
Book 11 – A Match for Bernadette, Parker J. Cole
Book 12 – A Match for Judith, by Christine Sterling
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Special Thanks
Other Books in the Series
Table of Contents
About this Book
Chapter 1 through 13
What’s Next in the Series
From the Author
About this Book
Sarah is being groomed to replace her mother as head cook in the Cranston household, but she would like nothing more than to leave the stately Texas mansion and set up housekeeping in her own home. Nick Trafton has lost his bearings, abandoning the family farm and living the dangerous life of a bounty hunter.
After his sister, Genevieve, recruits help from Marianne’s new matchmaking service, a mail-order bride, Sarah, agrees to come, giving inspiration to Nick to dig in and try to become the husband a woman needs.
The newlyweds arrive on the Trafton homestead with visions of a fresh start, only to encounter deep-seated anger from the family and a man’s revenge that keeps the bounty hunter tied to his past. Will it all be too much for the couple to endure, even if Nick manages to survive the ordeal?
Join Sarah as her dreams are put to the test and Nick who is trapped in a life of his own making, as they attempt to find peace in a place called home.”
Pick up this heartwarming romance, A Match for Sarah, today.
NOTE: For those readers who have been waiting for Nick to find romance from my Pinkerton story, (An Agent for Genevieve), here it is. Nick and Sarah.
Chapter One
1875 Denver, Colorado
The atmosphere at Pearl’s Diner set the perfect ambiance for the romantic picture Genevieve wanted her brother Nick to envision. They were tucked in the back section and separated from the casual diners, the owner successfully creating a secluded spot in which couples could meet. The white tablecloths were adorned with a centerpiece—a slender, glass vase with two freshly cut long-stemmed flowers inside—blue plates, and beside it, silver eating utensils wrapped inside matching napkins. The look spoke of a woman’s touch—one Nick badly needed.
When he arrived, Nick hung his Stetson hat on the hook by the door, wiped the dust off his pants, and plopped down in the chair opposite Genevieve. “Morning, sis.” He picked up the coffee cup and murmured, “Thanks for ordering this. Needed some wake-up juice.”
He slurped as he drank, which irritated Genevieve. “Don’t you think you could use your manners when dining with a woman?”
“You’re my sister,” he stated as if it explained everything.
“What if I wasn’t?” she inquired. “Do you even know how to behave like a gentleman with a lady?”
“Sure, I do,” he said defensively. “I practiced up when that snooty Andrea Friskin was on my hopeful list.”
“Thank goodness she did not work out. That girl was a disaster.”
“Seems no one else is interested in me either. Here I am, still single and quite used to it, I might add, so get that matchmaking glint out of your eye.”
“Marriage to the right person is wonderful, Nick. Just look at Trace and me,” Genevieve said. “It so happens I was talking to Marianne Gordon just yesterday, and she mentioned you.”
“She did? Isn’t she married?”
“She certainly is, and happily so with a son of her own. It seems she has left the Pinkerton Agency for her husband, Archie, to manage alone and has started her own business.”
“Good for her. My hat goes off to all enterprising women in Denver, Colorado, who are helping to bring the country into a new decade.”
He drained his cup dry and looked around for the waitress. When he caught her attention, he smiled his country-boy grin, and she came running with the pot. “Thank you, little miss. Your service is duly noted and appreciated. You will make some lucky man a good wife.”
The young girl blushed crimson red and tittered as she hurried away.
“Are you not tired of flirting with women you have no interest in pursuing, Nick?” Genevieve asked. “When I heard from Jethro that you were fixing up the north cottage on the homestead, I figured it meant you’d be settling down and giving up your latest craze. A bounty hunter is far too dangerous an occupation.”
“And being a Pinkerton agent is any less dangerous?” he said, challenging his sister.
“I’m good at it, Nick Trafton, and I get to spend valuable time with my husband Trace. There is a match for everyone.” She cupped her chin in the palm of her hand, placed her elbow on the table, and leaned in closer to her brother. “Which leads me to what I called you into town to discuss.”
“I knew it had to be more than breakfast with my sister. You are too predictable in all of your matchmaking efforts.”
“But it’s not me this time,” she argued. “I’m here to suggest you go with a professional agency, Marianne’s Mail Order Brides.”
Nick roared with laughter. He relaxed his lean frame i
nto his chair, tipping the front legs off the floor while teetering on the rear spindles. “Settle down, or you may find yourself on the floor and Pearl’s patrons laughing at your silliness and bad manners.”
Mrs. Marianne Gordon walked into the establishment at that moment.
“Really? You set me up?” Nick said when he saw her.
“Marianne receives letters every day from reputable women wanting to find suitable husbands, and she has one in mind for you.” She ignored his stern expression. “It’s a tough life going it alone, Nick Trafton, and you need to grow up and accept the aid that a godly woman will bring as you settle back in at the farm.”
“Who said I was settling in?” Nick said. “Just figured a home base might be helpful between jobs, a place to hang my hat when I want to stick around and pester my family.”
“Well, don’t be too quick to put Marianne off,” Genevieve whispered. “I’ve encouraged her to find a girl for you.”
“Behind my back?”
“Hush…here she comes.” Genevieve stood.
Nick ambled to his feet somewhat grudgingly.
Genevieve reached out to grasp the woman’s hand. “Marianne, I am so glad to see you again. Thank you for coming.” She dropped her hand and glanced sideways while carrying on cheerfully, giving the man in question no choice but to go along with her surprise meeting.
“You remember my brother, Nicolas Trafton?”
He offered his hand in a greeting. “Nick’s the name. Good morning, Mrs. Gordon. Trust the family is well.”
“Quite well, and thank you for asking. Shall we sit?”
Marianne settled into her chair and said, “But I suspect my family is not at the forefront of your mind today, young man. Genevieve has filled me in on your plight as a lonely bachelor.”
He raised his brows at his sister. “That seems a mighty desperate picture she paints. I wonder what else she’s told you regarding her poor, single, heartsick brother.”
“Only the wonderful stuff,” Marianne said. “She speaks quite highly of you, and I do recall your heroics in her first assignment at the Pinkerton Agency.”
Genevieve noticed his smug look. Marianne’s hero comment would do nicely to butter him up for the plan they had in mind. “He will make some wonderful woman very happy. Please, tell us who you have in mind.”
Nick interrupted. “Where are your manners, Gen? Would you care for coffee, Mrs. Gordon?”
“I would, thank you. The baby has his first tooth coming in and had me up very early this morning. Archie is on daddy duty while we iron out the details regarding your match.”
“You make it all so businesslike. Besides my sister’s spontaneous marriage to a stranger, do you find your male candidates happy with your matches, not regretting that they’d remained single and carefree?”
“It seems I do possess a certain intuition for pairings that succeed, and so far, my record of happily married applicants proves it.”
“Nice to know,” was all he said.
When the waitress arrived, he asked for another cup for their guest and ordered a man-sized breakfast of ham, eggs, and fried potatoes for himself. Before she left the table, he asked, “Ladies, can I interest you in anything off the menu? Genevieve is paying since this was all her idea.” His boyish smile lit up his face and made his sister laugh.
“I am paying,” Genevieve agreed. “Marianne, will you have anything?”
“I smell cinnamon buns that are driving my senses to distraction.” She looked at the waitress. “I’ll have one of those, please.”
“As will I,” Genevieve said.
When the girl left, Marianne turned to the business at hand. “Mr. Trafton, I think I have the perfect match for you. I scanned all the applicants in search of a woman proficient in keeping house in a farm setting. And of course, one dedicated to living alongside a man to help him prosper in business and tend to his children’s needs, should the Good Lord see fit to bless you with little ones.”
“Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases,” Nick politely answered as he took the breakfast plate from the waitress and inhaled the aroma. “If she can cook like this, then it’s a done deal.” He dove into the meal, seemingly oblivious to the chatter from the women that followed.
When Marianne stood, a cinnamon roll wrapped in brown paper in her hand, she said, “You will excuse me, Nick, won’t you? Archie will want to leave for work at the Pinkerton Agency, so I’d best get home to see to the baby.”
Nick glanced at Genevieve, a look of surprised horror spreading across his face. He’d blocked out the entire tail end of the conversation while devouring his meal. Genevieve fumed inwardly while continuing to smile sweetly at Marianne. “I’m sure Genevieve will get back to you,” Nick said hesitantly.
“Oh, no need for that, Mr. Trafton. I will wire the candidate immediately and let you know her arrival date.”
“Wait—” His words went spiraling into the air unheeded, for Marianne already headed for the door.
“Genevieve—what did I miss?” His voice sounded earnest while his eyes pleaded for an explanation. She ignored his exaggerated urgency and gathered her purse to depart, pasting a smug, satisfied look on her face.
“Nothing at all, Nick. It seems your Miss Parkesdale is an excellent cook, which seems to be your only condition. She’s trained to please the fussy tastebuds of an affluent family in Texas, so I’m certain she will satisfy yours as well.”
“A man needs more than food,” Nick growled. “You tricked me. What if she looks like a dog?”
“The face the Good Lord loans his creation does not define a person’s character. Save your judgment until she arrives, and you get to know her.”
“But I have a job coming up,” he said, which both of them knew was not true for he’d already admitted to having set aside the month to make the once vacant cabin livable.
“Are you getting cold feet already?”
“What if she doesn’t like me coming and going to catch the bad guys and bring them back for ransom money?”
Genevieve cast a harsh glare his way. “You need to confront Jethro and Saul. Our parents left you boys more than enough land to go around. Besides, your new bride needs someone at home to cook for, not one coming and going as a sorry excuse to make a living.”
“This is happening way too fast, sis,” Nick said. “I have a good mind to chase that woman down and put a halt to this nonsense.”
“I’m not trying to stop you, but when you give it some thought, I think you’ll agree that all of this running about looking for a better life is just you running away from the farm you love.”
“I could never satisfy Pa when he was alive. Jethro was always the fair-haired boy who could do no wrong.”
“Pa is dead, and you are still a Trafton, are you not?”
“I suppose.”
“Then go and claim your inheritance but tread delicately. You need to learn to get along with the family that shares your surname.”
“Jethro is mad at me for taking off, and he won’t take kindly to my interfering now in whatever he and Saul have going.”
“Listen to yourself, Nicolas Trafton,” Genevieve said. “Pull up your pants, get back to being the head of the family, and do it gently. A soft answer and repentant heart will soften the rebuke from your brother.”
Nick mumbled something under his breath before asking, “This woman you set me up with—is she as religious as you?”
“I have no idea. If not, I suppose you can learn to bend your knees together. God will need to be Lord of the house for you two to build a life on the right foundation.”
Genevieve grinned as she looked back at the table before leaving. Nick sat there dumbfounded, an expression earmarking him as a man uncertain as to what had just happened. He’d be angry for a minute, but he’d realize his sister-knew-best soon enough, and everything she’d claimed about his empty life was accurate. Nick needed to quit running from his destiny. Maybe a woman was just what he needed
to keep him home and stop his constant drifting.
Yes, Genevieve had accomplished a good deed that morning with the help of Marianne, but she sent a prayer heavenward just the same with the hope that Nick and Sarah would see things her way when the time came.
Chapter Two
Sarah Parkesdale rushed from the postmaster’s office to find a nearby bench in the common area on which to read her mail. Her mother did not know she’d sent a response to an ad posted by a reputable agency in Colorado, the one with the return address handwritten on the letter she’d just received. Would she be rejected as she was far from the brave pioneer-woman of whom she’d read, or had the matchmaker found an eligible gentleman who desired to marry her? Either scenario caused panic to rise in Sarah’s throat.
Her mother, the head of everything that happened in the Cranston kitchen, was molding her to take over the position, but Sarah wanted no part of it. For generations, the Parkesdales had worked and lived on the bottom floor, kowtowing to the family’s demands upstairs, but Sarah had had her fill of it. A big world existed out there, one she’d never enjoyed beyond the marketplace and church in her residential, affluent neighborhood. Their employer treated the servants on the lower floor as well as one might expect, so she could not rightly claim to have had a deprived childhood. He’d met all her basic needs, but none of her adventurous dreams had seen the light of day.
The newspaper had been her primary source of information as to what happened beyond her four-block existence—that, and books.
Sarah loved to read, and Mr. Cranston had smuggled exciting classics and biographies of famous people downstairs, all of which grieved her mother, who complained that Sarah did not know the difference between fantasy and real life.
Mother knew nothing of the letter she’d posted over a month ago, answering all the questions a man might have about a woman before pledging his life in matrimony before God and man. The kitchen matriarch—as her mother liked to envision her lowly station—would balk at her going, but at nineteen, Sarah was quite able to do as she pleased. She had bigger dreams than living and breathing to serve the family upstairs who took them for granted.
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