Romance: Mail Order Bride The Ideal Bride Clean Christian Western Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series)

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Romance: Mail Order Bride The Ideal Bride Clean Christian Western Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series) Page 164

by Alice White


  Clara looked up at him and smiled wanly.

  “Well, let me look here.” The man bent down and looked at the ankle. “Does this hurt here?” He pushed on a swollen part of her ankle.

  She yelped loudly. “Yes it hurts.”

  “Well, the good news is that it isn’t broken, just twisted. You should take it easy for a few days and stay off of it as much as possible,” the man explained. He got up and left just as quickly as he had arrived.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t know the way back to the house?” Todd demanded, his face full of anger.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I was only thinking and praying,” Clara admitted.

  “Now Todd, why are you yelling at her?” his mother demanded. “She could have been hurt very badly. We should be thankful that she is okay.”

  “I am thankful she’s okay, I’m just angry that she was hurt. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you,” he said finally as he turned to look at Clara.

  She could see the fear and worry in his eyes still. “I’m sorry. I should have said something. But honestly, I didn’t pay any attention. By the time I did, I couldn’t even find my way back to where I left you,” she admitted.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

  “After I’m better I’ll go back to South Carolina if you want. I’m sorry that this didn’t work out,” she said finally, and the tears starting streaming down her cheeks. She had decided that she needed to do this while she had been lost. He hadn’t said anything about what she had told him, and she was sure he didn’t want her around.

  He turned towards her quickly. “Why would you do that?” he asked.

  “You didn’t say anything when I told you about my past today. Nothing, not, okay, stay, go, not a single word. I’m damaged goods and it takes a lot for a man to deal with that.”

  “I didn’t say anything because it’s not right to badmouth the deceased. I could say those things if your late husband was still around, but if he was you wouldn’t be here. If there were any way for me to meet him, he wouldn’t be standing right now. I would show him what a real man fought like. I would make sure he never touched you again in your life. I was angry, and I’m still mad that you had to go through that, but I can’t do anything about you past. What I can offer you is a future, a life with someone who isn’t going to hit you, drink, or gamble their money away,” Todd said.

  Clara stared at him, not quite sure she had understood his words right. “I’m confused,” she admitted.

  He sat down beside her and took her hand. “I was upset that Mother found you. But she told me that God gave her a sign and pointed you out. I prayed today when I was looking for you and asked God to help me find you. If I found you alive, I promised that I would take the sign to my Mother, and act on it.”

  “I still am not sure what you are saying. Are you saying that you want to marry me?” Clara asked.

  “I am saying that I would like to get to know you better and possibly marry you. I don’t want to take you to the judge right now. I think we should know a bit more about one another. But I don’t want you to go home. I surely don’t want to find another man around here for you either. You are a great cook and I would greatly miss those pancakes! But more so, God gave my mother a sign and one to me as well. He led me to you today, and you were okay. Yes you have a twisted ankle, but that will heal in a short amount of time. You’ll be fine soon enough!” Todd smiled.

  “I can’t believe it. Did you really just say that to me?” Clara blinked her eyes and tears of happiness came to them. She didn’t have to go back, and he wanted to get to know her better. Honestly, she couldn’t be happier. She had prayed a lot while she was lost. When she had told Todd that she would go back home, it wasn’t because it had felt right. It was because she wasn’t sure what to do. She had felt like Gerald had made her feel many times this afternoon. When Todd hadn’t said anything, he had acted a lot like Gerald, who would often ignore her, unless he had been beating on her or putting her down. She wasn’t sure which treatment had been worse, but she didn’t want to experience any of them again.

  Todd had made her feel that way, and she had wanted to run away and disappear into the wilderness. When she had fallen and gotten hurt, she thought for sure she was going to die out there alone. “He probably won’t even come to find me,” she had thought. When he had come into view it had been nice, but she thought her mind was playing tricks on her.

  “Mother, you win,” Todd said as his mother came into the room. She was carrying a plate of food for both Clara and Todd.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I will marry Clara, not today, but perhaps in a month. That should be enough time to get to know her and figure out whether we are compatible,” Todd explained.

  “What changed your mind?” Sally asked.

  “Honestly it was two things. One, I prayed about the sign God sent you, and it felt right. But the biggest one was how much my heart ached when I couldn’t find her. I felt lost without her, and it wasn’t something I expected. I don’t know if it’s love or not, but it is something I’ve never felt about any other woman in my life. If you say God pointed you to her, I believe you, and I want to follow His Will.”

  “I’m so happy. I can’t wait for my grandchildren!” Sally smiled broadly.

  “Mother we haven’t even gotten married yet!” Todd laughed.

  “Yes, but this next month will surely fly by!

  THE END

  Return to TOC

  An Education at Ryan Ranch

  Return to TOC

  Chapter 1

  “Charles! Charles, what have you got there? You aren’t getting up to any trouble now, are you? I know you couldn’t be doing a thing like that, not after all we’ve talked about. Do you remember what we’ve talked about?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And what was it, Charles?”

  “What do you mean, ma’am?”

  Caroline McCormack laughed, a musical little sound that always made anyone within earshot laugh along with her, or at the very least smile. She stood from the bench where she had been reading while watching the children, straightened her thick woolen skirts, and walked quickly towards Charles. Little Charlie Wells was the smallest boy in his class and somehow still the one with the most fire inside of him. She knew that many of his other teachers had little patience for him or for his antics, but Caroline didn’t feel that way about him at all. Quite the contrary, truth be told. She had a soft spot in her heart for the little children the others saw as troublemakers. The idea that there were any children anywhere that people could just give up on or cast off as being somehow lesser than was simply awful.

  As far as she was concerned, she had never met a child she didn’t like. It was why she had been so drawn to teaching. It hadn’t been that she needed the money. She didn’t really. Her family was wealthy and well established. They had come to New York from Ireland and were one of the families that had really and truly succeeded. She had grown up in a large, sprawling brownstone with deep, rich wood and wrought iron as far as the eye could see. She had two younger sisters by the names of Adeline and Bethany whom she had always been devoted to, one four years older and one six. From the moment of Adeline’s birth, Caroline had known that she wanted to be a mother. She spent as much time as her mother would allow tending to first one and then two sisters, pretending that instead of siblings they were her very own babies. It was by far her favorite game to play and any time she was forced out of the fantasy, to attend to her schooling for instance, she was singularly devastated. As she grew older, her fondness for children grew as well, and although her education had only ever been intended to make her well-rounded and therefore more desirable, she decided long before she ever said it out loud that she would be putting said education to a good use. She was going to teach. It was an idea she felt overwhelmingly passionate about, held close to her heart and pulled out to examine late at night when she
was meant to be asleep. She couldn’t wait to have children of her own, and once they came she would almost certainly have to leave her job in order to tend to them (something she intended to do herself and would never leave to a governess), but she would miss her children from the school. She loved them, each and every one of them in their own special way. She believed it was an essential part of what helped her to reach them, to teach even the students that other teachers had deemed unteachable. She truly cared for them and they knew it. Like rambunctious little Charles here, for example, standing in front of her with red cheeks and a lip poked out for good measure. She knelt before him, not caring a lick if it got her skirts dirty, and looked up at him with kind, patient eyes.

  “Charles, you know I’m not angry, right?”

  “I think so, ma’am.”

  “And what have we talked about?”

  “I must think before I act,” he recited with the confidence of a boy who had received the same lecture many times over. “And if I get myself into trouble I mustn't try to hide it. It only makes my trouble deeper.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly right, Charles. So would you like to tell me what you’ve got in your hand? The one you’ve got clutched so tightly behind your back?”

  It was still very clear that he did not want to, that he was very seriously considering not showing her a thing, but then his eyes dropped down to his feet and he opened his chubby hand for her to see what it had secreted away.

  “Ah, I see. The clock. Is that right? Do you have a piece of the clock there in your hand?”

  “Might be.”

  “Might be?”

  “Might be so.”

  “Charles?”

  His little face, the one he had been trying so desperately to keep stoic, crumpled into a million pieces and he threw his sweet arms around her neck. The contraband bit of clock fell to the ground, forgotten, and she used her free hand to scoop it up out of the dirt and slip it into her skirt pocket. She could mend it easily later. Either that or just purchase the classroom a new clock. It was no great task.

  “I didn’t mean it, ma’am,” he blubbered, his wet tears saturating the crisp collar of her dress shirt. “I didn’t mean to break it all to pieces!”

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “I just wanted to see what would happen, is all. I wanted to see what was inside of it to make it work the way it did. But I ruined it instead and now it will never work again. It’s too broken and I’ll be in too much trouble now. I don’t want to be in trouble, not again.”

  He continued to sob as if his heart would break and Caroline stroked his hair briefly, making soothing clucking sounds. She wouldn’t tell him not to cry. She never told a child that. She was of the belief that every person needed to be allowed a good cry, and that included children. Once he had calmed himself down and the cries had dwindled to a series of hiccups, she stood and held him out at arm's length, looking at him with a little smile.

  “There now, do you feel better?”

  “Mostly I do. Am I in trouble?”

  “No, Charles, no trouble for you today. But will you do something for me?”

  “Anything!”

  “Next time you want to know how something’s insides work, tell me. That way we can explore it together. It’ll be our own little adventure.”

  The boy nodded happily and then ran off to meet his playmates, as if he had never had a care in the world. That was the thing about children. They were so wonderfully resilient. Not like grownups at all.

  *

  “Jeremiah? Jeremiah, are you here?”

  Finally home from another long but always fulfilling day at the school, Caroline stopped to give herself a once-over in the massive hallway mirror. She was looking a little more frazzled than she would have liked, but it would have to do. Besides, Jeremiah would understand. Her love for her work and the children in the school was something he had always said he admired about her. A few stray hairs weren’t going to bother him any. Still, she always liked to look her best for him. That was just something you did for the person you were intended to, wasn’t it? It was a pity she wasn’t going to have time to freshen up before she greeted him in a proper fashion, but she had received word at the school that he would be waiting for her in the parlor when she returned home and so what little she could do in these quick moments before going in to greet him would have to do. Her green eyes were bright and lively, something she always had working in her favor, and her red curls (a clear reminder of her Irish heritage) were piled up on top of her head. Those could use a little help, but there was only so much she could do with her small hands and the bobby pins in her hair. Rearranging only got her so far, and after a few fruitless moments of rearranging she decided it was as good as it was ever going to be. She pinched the skin on her cheekbones lightly, just to give herself a little bit of extra color, smoothed her skirts down, and smiled. She walked into the parlor that way, her pretty smile practically shining like an extra light in the evening dimness.

  “Jeremiah! Here you are. I was calling for you, but I suppose you didn’t hear me. You know I’m never loud enough.”

  She hurried towards her betrothed feeling giddy and completely content, ready for the somewhat scandalous kiss she usually received on one hot cheek. But he did not bestow it. That was new, and most decidedly unsettling. He always greeted her in the exact same way. It was part of their ritual and it was a great comfort to her, an indicator of the life the two of them were on the verge of embarking on. But tonight, instead of leaning in and taking her hands while he gave her that sweet little kiss, he took her hands but held her out at arm's length. The skin of his hands was cold, dry, and the look on his face was pained and serious. This was not their standard greeting at all and it made her heart seize up and her stomach jump into her throat. She was strong, the two of them were strong together, and she was confident that they could weather any storm. Still, nobody wanted bad news. She bit her lip and straightened her spine, trying to prepare herself for anything.

  “Caroline, you're here.”

  “Yes, I’m here. This is my home.”

  “So it is.”

  They stood in strange silence, Caroline hoping that her fiancé would unburden himself and tell her what it was that was troubling him and all the while him looking everywhere but at her. She concentrated as hard as she could, half expecting that she could make him look at her, but it was no use. Finally, she could stand it no more.

  “Jeremiah, please.”

  “Yes?”

  “Please, whatever it is, whatever’s the matter, just tell me. The wondering and not knowing makes things feel so much worse.”

  “Yes. Yes, I suppose it does. It’s just-- have you ever had a thing you needed to say that you just couldn’t find the words for?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps. Honestly I don’t think I have.”

  Caroline was baffled. She really couldn’t relate with what he was saying. She had always been a good natured girl, easy to get along with and unbelievably slow to anger, but also a straightforward girl. She hadn’t ever had anything she felt the need to hide, and if she thought a thing, she said it. Maybe that was part of her Irish heritage as well, the way her father liked to tell her it was. True or not, it was the way she was and she could not fathom what Jeremiah was trying to get at now.

  “How wonderful it must be to live in that world. You truly are too good for me, you know that, don’t you? I want you to remember that. You need to remember that, please.”

  “Why would I want to remember a thing like that? Why would I even want to think a thing like that? It isn’t true.”

  “But it is! It is, Caroline, and keeping that fact in your head and in your heart will help with what’s to come.”

  Her heart was thump, thump, thumping inside of her ribcage. She did not know this man. She knew Jeremiah, of course, but the man who was looking at her out of these eyes she didn’t know at all. He looked like a caged animal but he also look
ed cold, so much colder than she had ever seen him look before. He was beating around the bush about something and although she knew with one hundred percent certainty that she would not like what he had to say when it came out, she wanted no more of this double talk. He was making her miserable with the delay.

  “And what is it that I’m to face? What’s to come, Jeremiah?”

  “The wedding,” he said through gritted teeth as he ran his hand compulsively, angrily through his hair. “I can’t. I can’t go through with it. I’m calling it off.”

  Chapter 2

  “Sister, please, tell me what’s happened. It can’t be as bad as all of this. Can’t you talk to me? Can’t you tell me anything at all?”

  But she couldn’t. Try as she might to pick herself up off the bed, to shrug off the monumental blow she had just been served, and consider the blessings she still had in her life, Caroline could not stop sobbing. She had been doing so, her head heavy on an arm that was almost numb from the constant pressure, for longer than she could have said. It was entirely unlike her to behave this way which was surely where some of the panic in her sister Adeline’s voice stemmed from. Caroline had soothed many a tantrum thrown by one or both of her sisters, but the occasion in which the action required reciprocation was almost unheard of. In fact, later in the evening, when Caroline had slipped into a fitful sleep and Adeline and Bethany spoke in worried, hushed tones of all that had transpired, they would both state with absolute certainty that they had never seen her so distraught. It frightened them, made them feel ineffectual in a way no person ever wanted to feel with a loved one. The worst thing about it was that they could not understand it, not a bit of it. Their sister had gone off merrily to her school just as she did every other day and had returned to a waiting Jeremiah. That was all they knew for sure, aside from the fact that she had fled from the drawing room some time later with tears streaming down her face and, after reaching her large canopy bed, had not gotten herself back up again. They knew nothing of what could be ailing her.

 

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