Brides for the Garrison Brothers 3
The Unclaimed Mail Order Bride
Fletcher Garrison saw Abigail Strahan, for the first time, at the airport. She looked lost. He hurried to her side. Fletcher was surprised when Abigail said she was waiting for her future husband, Arthur Clements. Fletcher had heard Arthur had remarried. Something was wrong. Fletch drove Abigail to Arthur’s ranch, where they were greeted by Arthur’s new wife. Arthur was at his office. Fletcher took Abby’s arm to steady her while walking to the truck.
Pleasure Valley, Wyoming was a small town, and Abby had very little money. The handsome cowboy driving her had been nice and helpful, but she didn’t really know him. Arthur Clements insisted he’d sent a message. What was going to happen to her? While standing by Fletcher’s truck, his Mom and Dad saw them and insisted on helping. Fletcher’s brothers soon noticed Fletch’s interest in Abigail, but he insisted he had no ideas of marriage, and anyway Abby thought he was controlling.
Genre: Contemporary, Cowboys
Length: 47,946 words
THE UNCLAIMED MAIL
ORDER BRIDE
Brides for the Garrison Brothers 3
Paige Cameron

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
THE UNCLAIMED MAIL ORDER BRIDE
Copyright © 2017 by Paige Cameron
ISBN: 978-1-64010-619-2
First Publication: September 2017
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
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DEDICATION
To my favorite author and friend, Fiona Roarke. Thanks for your encouragement and help both on this book and during a difficult time in my life.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My first career was nursing. During my midlife crisis, I went back to school and earned my master’s degree in social work. These were good choices, but in the back of my mind, those characters kept knocking on the door and reminding me of my dream job, writing.
I wrote everything from poems, short stories, and longer love stories. They filled my desk drawers and the bottom of my closet.
Finally, with my three children grown, a very supportive husband, and many friends encouragement, I got serious.
I decided in 2004 that it was time to commit to my dream, make some goals and start my new career. They do say the third time’s the charm, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s too late to follow your dream.
My first goals: Join a writer’s group and a critique group, attend a writer’s conference, and oh yes, write a book.
My first big shock: Not everyone thought I was a great writer. Like any other career you had to study, read, take classes, and write, write, write. It was work, but also so much fun.
For all titles by Paige Cameron, please visit
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
THE UNCLAIMED MAIL
ORDER BRIDE
Brides for the Garrison Brothers 3
PAIGE CAMERON
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Abigail Strahan’s heart raced in her chest. Please, please let him write me a note to go back to work. She’d used almost all the money she’d saved. Her left hand still looked red, but it didn’t hurt as much. The door opened, and Dr. James took quick steps around his desk and sat.
He frowned at Abigail. “My nurse said you want to return to work tomorrow.”
“Yes, I need to work. I’m running out of money.” Her face flamed with heat. She hated discussing her finances with other people.
Dr. James leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. “I’d like you to wait at least another week. Your hand won’t hurt as much, and the flexibility would be better. How did you say this happened?”
“A co-worker was pouring a cup of coffee, and another person bumped into her. The hot coffee splashed over my hand.”
“It must have been extremely hot.”
“She’d just made it before pouring my cup.” Abby’s throat tightened. A nasty thought had entered her mind when it happened. Had Eleanor done it on purpose? Abby hated to think anyone would be that mean. She had tried to tell Eleanor she had no interest in her boyfriend, Dennis, who also worked in the office. But Dennis continued to flirt with Abby, although she’d told him to stop.
Dr. James’s words brought her back to the present. “Since you insist, I will give you a note to return, but I’m telling you it is against my better judgment. I won’t see you as a patient again. I must have my instructions followed. Do you understand?”
“I do and thank you.” Abby grabbed her purse, took the note the doctor scribbled and left. I’ll go right to the factory and back to work tomorrow.
To save money, Abby walked down the streets, around corners, and took short-cuts. When she arrived, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Her body trembled from weakness. After about fifteen minutes, she straightened and went inside.
Mr. Hopps’s secretary smiled when she entered the office. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, can I see Mr. Hopps? I have my note to return to work.”
“Oh, honey, you don’t look good.”
“I need the work. I’ll do all right.”
Shaking her head, the secretary buzzed Mr. Hopps and told him Abby wanted to speak with him.
“Send her in.” His harsh voice was audible through the receiver.
“Sorry, Abby. He’s in a bad mood. Go on inside and good luck.”
Hopps’s face flushed an angry red, and he frowned at Abby. “What do you want?”
She handed him the note from the doctor. “I’d like to start back tomorrow.”
“We’ve hired someone to replace you.”
“But I have sick leave. You can’t do that.”
“I can. After checking the records, I discovered you are often not making your quota.”
“But I’m close.”
“That’s not good enough and”—he nodded at her hand—“with that injury you never will be.” He
reached to the side of his desk. “I planned to have this mailed to you. It’s your final check with your one week vacation in it. We’re done. You may leave.”
Stunned, Abby automatically reached for the check. “How can you do this to me? I’m always on time, and I work during lunch to catch up.”
“You are required to take the full thirty minutes. I’ve made up my mind. Now go!” He pointed to the door.
Holding back tears, Abby hurried out the door and across the reception area. She heard the secretary call her name, but she kept on walking. Once outside and alone, she let the tears flow.
What am I going to do? I didn’t get to finish community college when my parents died in that car crash, and I have no particular marketable skills to make into a career.
Abby stopped at a newsstand and bought a paper. If she were lucky, there’d be a position she might apply for, but at this point, she needed a lot of luck.
Once inside her tiny apartment, Abby placed a pot on the stove and warmed some soup. She opened to the want ads. Most jobs required specific skills. She marked a few and called them. Two had been filled. The last one wanted an older woman to care for their child.
Tired to the bone, Abby glanced through the rest of the ads as she ate her soup and crackers. She blinked and reread the ad. Our business is finding nice women to be Brides for Lonely Country Gentlemen. Clients are checked to see if they have any criminal background or financial problems. This is a safe way to find your husband. Call for consideration.
Abby reached for the phone and then jerked her hand back. I can’t go somewhere and marry a stranger. The man might be hateful and beat me, or old and disgusting. She threw the paper in the trash. No way. Tomorrow, she’d check with local businesses near her apartment.
After finishing her soup, Abby pulled out the book where she kept track of her finances. The rent came due in two weeks. After rechecking the numbers, she included the check her boss gave her to the few dollars in the bank. Then she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her head.
There were no relatives to call for help. Abby had one aunt in Alaska, but they’d never met, and after she had called to notify her of Abby’s parents’ death, the aunt thanked her and said not to call again. She must have thought I might need help and didn’t want to be bothered. This thought brought on another crying spell. Abby had heard her father mention an uncle once, but she had no idea where he’d be or if he was even alive. As far as Abby knew, she was on her own.
“Get hold of yourself, Abigail. Mom and Dad would expect me to do what I must, even if it is unpleasant.” She glanced at the balance in her checkbook. Maybe three weeks at the most and she’d be broke. There wasn’t time to search for another job where she’d barely get by. Reaching down, she pulled the paper out of the trash. At least I can call and see what they say. I’m not committing myself to anything.
* * * *
Fletcher Garrison grinned at his niece, who grinned back, showing a baby tooth. He enjoyed playing with his two nephews and his niece. Sometimes, although he’d never admit it to his mother, he had thoughts of having a family. Oh, no. Mom probably heard my thoughts.
“Fletcher sure would make a natural daddy,” Devin said with a grin.
“I had the same idea you had, Devin,” Mom said. “I’m going to work on him next. Fletcher, you have a big house. It’s about time you filled it full of grandchildren for me.”
“Do I have to marry to do that?” Fletch asked, waiting for the explosion.
Hands on her hips, Mom Garrison gave her son what they all called the evil eye.
“You know better than that, young man. You’d better marry first.”
Fletch broke out laughing. “I like to get you riled once in a while, Mom. It’s good for you.”
She raised her eyebrows at her son. “And I know what’s good for you. I’ll start looking for that bride.”
“Oh boy, you’ve done it now,” Hunter said, as Devin took his daughter back from a bewildered Fletch. Her boys all knew once Mom made up her mind, she got what she wanted. It didn’t matter they all towered over her small frame. She knew they loved her, and they knew she was in charge until a wife came along to take over her job. Hunter grinned at how it had worked out for him. He couldn’t be happier, and Devin had never smiled so much until he married. “Mom’s right,” Hunter said. “Marriage is the best. You all ought to try it.” He grinned at all his single brothers. “Mom, you have lots of work to do.”
“Sit down, and I’ll bring in breakfast. I’m so glad you could all be here this morning, since we stayed at church for the picnic and missed our usual Sunday dinner. I love the idea of seeing this table crowded with Garrison wives.” They heard her chuckle as she went into the kitchen followed by her daughter-in-laws.
Fletch ate fast and glanced at his watch. “I hate to leave, but I have an order coming in today. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be back this afternoon for a piece of whatever dessert you’ve cooked.” He waved and hurried out the door. The plane landed in fifteen minutes. He’d be just in time to pick up his supplies.
* * * *
Abby had worn her best dress. Its emerald green color made her light-green eyes more noticeable. It had short sleeves and a flared skirt that showed her legs from just above the knees. Low-heeled white shoes and the matching handbag completed her outfit. She hoped her husband-to-be would like her appearance.
People were rushing back and forth, but she saw no one who resembled the man in the small picture he’d sent to her. Arthur Clements had a round face and a nice smile in the photograph. They’d talked once briefly on the phone, and now she’d come to Pleasure Valley to be his wife. Her knees went weak at the thought. She took a deep breath to steady herself.
She chewed on the edge of her lip as the crowd grew thinner. I’ve spent all my money and hoped this would be the answer to at least most of my problems. What if Mr. Clements doesn’t show?
Across the room, Abby spotted a tall man dressed in jeans, plaid shirt, hat, and boots, definitely the required attire for a real cowboy. He talked with another man who kept nodding his head before finally walking off. When the stranger turned his head, their eyes connected. Embarrassed to be caught staring, Abby turned in the other direction. In seconds she heard a deep voice speak by her shoulder.
“Are you lost, lady? May I help you?”
Abby turned and tilted her head up. Her heart did a little dance when the tanned cowboy smiled. His eyes were a mixture of green and brown. Dark blond hair fell over his forehead, and he stood at least eight inches above her.
“I apologize for staring. Someone was to meet me. But he hasn’t arrived.”
“I’ve lived here all my life. If you have a name, I might know him.”
“His name is Arthur Clements.” She held out the small black and white picture. “This is him.”
“No need for a photo. I know Art. He has a small farm not too far from here. I’d be glad to give you a ride. He might have gotten busy with a sick animal or some type of problem.” Fletch shrugged. “We are all occasionally guilty of forgetting the time when working. My mother has tried to teach us better.”
He put out his hand. “Shall we head his way?”
“I don’t ride with strangers.” Now that sounds silly when I’ve come here to marry a stranger.
“I understand.” Calling a nearby guard by name, he motioned for him to come over.
“This lady needs to know she’ll be safe in my car. Her ride hasn’t come, and I offered to take her where she’s going.”
The guard laughed. “He’s part of the Garrison clan. You can’t meet better people.”
“Thank you. In the big city, we have to be very careful.”
“Understood, but he’s safe.”
Fletcher put out his hand and asked, “Ready?”
Abby knew she was blushing when he took her small case and led her to the baggage claim area.
“Are you planning on moving here for good?” Fletcher asked. He pushed his
hat back and stared at the two large suitcases.
“I’m going to marry Mr. Clements.” Despite wanting to cry, she almost laughed at his stunned expression.
“Wow, this is a surprise. I’d be glad to drive you out to Mr. Clements’ place. I’m headed to town, and it’s on my way.”
“Are you sure it won’t be a bother, I’d appreciate the ride.”
* * * *
What the hell was Art doing? He’d heard Art had married a woman from the next county over. He glanced at the small woman beside him. Had Art played a nasty trick on this lady? If so, she’d need help, and he wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. Well, not me actually. I’ll get Mom and Dad to help her.
Abby insisted on carrying her small case. He carried the two bigger ones, and they made their way to his large truck. Fletch put the suitcases in the back and helped her up into the seat.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said to reassure her. Her sweet mouth had tightened, and she’d frowned when she saw the wide open spaces around them. He pointed at landmarks and kept up a running commentary, but she remained silent and gazed straight ahead.
When they arrived at the ranch, Fletch lifted her down and took hold of her elbow. “The ground is a bit uneven in spots.”
At the entrance, he knocked. They heard footsteps, and a blonde woman opened the door.
“Is Art here?” Fletch asked. “I’m Fletcher Garrison. I’d like to speak with him.” Abby stood slightly behind him, and when she moved closer, he felt the shiver in her body.
“He’s at his office in town. I’m his wife. Can I help you?”
The Unclaimed Mail Order Bride [Brides for the Garrison Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 1