Mail Order Clara
Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies
Ginny Sterling
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
A recipe for you…
An Agent for Clementine
An Agent for Gillian
Lawfully Yours
Lawfully Pledged
About the Author
Clara Winslow was about to be bartered off in a loveless marriage to her despicable neighbor. When she sees an ad for a mail-order bride that promises wide open skies, travel, and adventure-Clara jumps at the chance, omitting her promise to take care of her baby brother.
James ‘Mule’ Clanton was desperate for help. He knew he was stubborn, hard-headed, and old-fashioned, but a woman was just what he needed to help cook, clean, and mend while he worked. The outlaws have repeatedly threatened his ranch, but when he takes one look at his feisty new bride, it’s enough to make him turn tail and run!
Can love bloom under false pretenses? Will her prickly husband be more than she can handle in the Wild West?
Praise for Ginny Sterling
What can I say except I absolutely loved this story, I laughed out loud and I shed emotional tears.” – Amazon Reviewer (Lawfully Gifted)
“This series has quickly become one my favorites. Love the storyline, love the characters, love the back stories and love the sweet romance between each couple.” – Amazon Reviewer (Remember Love)
“What an amazing start to a new series, Healing Hearts, a clean contemporary and extremely emotional tale. I loved the characters, the angst, and the honest discussions, along with the chemistry and interactions. The people are broken, but with encouragement, friendship, and the added benefit of animals, it is the beginnings for healing.” – Amazon Reviewer (Remember Hope)
Chapter 1
1880
“This cannot be happening to me,” Clara whispered, turning away from the graveside in stunned shock. Her world was falling apart before her very eyes. Everywhere she turned, people around her were coming down with consumption and succumbing to the disease.
Louisville, Kentucky was a tiny town that was growing quickly in the state. As the town flourished, it was disheartening to see people both young and old passing away as wave after wave of illness struck the burgeoning city. Some people said it was because of all the travelers along the river, others said it was because of the stagnant air conditions brought on by living in the valley. Consumption, tuberculosis, mal de vivre, the wasting sickness… call it whatever you wanted, but the end result for so many was the same result for her parents.
Death.
Today she buried her father, and the last two months had been a nightmare.
Her mother had succumbed first, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to her mouth as she coughed desperately and struggled to breathe. She had lay there, covered in sweat, her body shaking with effort as she tried to speak.
Her father was close to her, lying in a cot, and fighting his own battle with whatever miasma seemed to hang over their home. They had thought it was simply a horrible cold, but when several were stricken in the town, the family realized it was more serious than originally thought. More symptoms appeared as their health declined. Weight loss, night sweats, fatigue, fever, all indicative of the disease.
Clara had struggled mentally knowing that she couldn’t abandon her family, but fear made her extremely cautious. She’d hung curtains to create a barrier between the open doorway of their room so she could hear them call for help yet keep her brother, Jack, out of there. At barely two years old, Jack was inquisitive and into everything. The idea of him growing ill made her heart hurt and her soul clench with fear. He looked like a mischievous little cherub with soft, bright, coppery-orange hair that had entirely too many curls, enough to make any girl jealous. Clear blue eyes didn’t miss a thing and if he wasn’t digging into baskets, or playing, he was completely underfoot causing her to pick him up repeatedly and swing him onto her hip.
“Your… fa-father… will… take… care…”
“Mama,” Clara hushed gently, seeing her mother struggle. Maybe the sanitoriums could help, but rumor was that it was only for the rich, something they were obviously not. That was the morning she passed away moments after eliciting a promise from Clara. Her own father was in no condition to be taking care of anyone, much less herself and Jack.
“Mama, you need to rest.”
“Promise… me…” her mother began as she began hacking horribly, curling her body into a ‘C’ shape as she struggled to fight the wracking coughs and sucked in air with a massive, wheezing gasps of breath.
“Promise… you’ll… watch… Jack. Swear… it!” she hissed, clutching Clara’s hand painfully.
“I will. I promise, but you’ll be better soon,” Clara said half-heartedly as she listened and heard the deep rattle in her mother’s lungs from here. Her eyes filled with tears as soon as she realized that her words weren’t just half-hearted… they were now a lie. The hand that had gripped hers repeatedly throughout her life fell slack as she slipped away.
“Clara? Oh, my dear, Clara?”
Wincing, she heard the nauseatingly singsong voice, adjusting where Jack sat on her hip. She hoped, wished, and prayed that she could simply disappear into the bushes and trees outlining the dilapidated cemetery where she’d been standing lost in thought. Dealing with Phineas Montgomery was the last thing she wanted to do after burying her father.
“There you are, my dear!”
Succotash! She thought angrily and gritted her teeth as Jack grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking on it at that very moment. The pain made her eyes water as she closed her eyes in defeat before turning to the man that had called her name. The same man her father bartered her off to before dying. He’d pledged her hand to Phineas in order to make sure Clara and Jack had a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs.
She had found out about her new ‘beau’ yesterday morning as he’d come knocking on the door with a cheery smile that was nauseating. It was like having someone sprinkle sunshine and rainbows in the middle of a barren field full of manure. Gleeful smiles were out of place, very unwelcome, downright repugnant, and stunk nearly as much. Death and illness were everywhere, yet here was this jackal of a man coming to collect upon a promise that she hadn’t made. The only promise she’d own up to was taking care of her brother—not marrying this charlatan of a man.
Phineas Montgomery had been the ideal neighbor: closed off from everyone. He’d kept to himself, avoiding all aspects of social life, until recently. She’d met him at a church gathering for Easter celebrations and then had promptly turned tail and run. There was something not right about the man, and she didn’t care for the way his eyes roved over her. It made her very uncomfortable to be in his presence and now she was here, alone with Jack, and trapped into marrying the man.
Her father had promised her hand in marriage, and their home, once he was gone. It was as if he knew he wasn’t long for this world. He didn’t struggle against the fevers or sweats. Any fight in him seemed to be leeched out of him once her mother had passed. It was on his deathbed she learned of the promise to Phineas. An unwanted commitment that stood before her now expectantly.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Clara said politely, not looking at him. She didn’t want to see his lecherous and cunning eyes. He made her skin crawl with disgust, and the thought of becoming his wife made her nauseous. Now that her father was gone, she would lose everything
. She promised to take care of Jack—but not at the expense of throwing away her own life.
“Clara, please call me by my given name.”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to address me so informally, Mr. Montgomery.”
She saw him straighten up out of the corner of her eye only moments before he reached out and grabbed her painfully on the wrist. Clara nearly dropped Jack, causing her brother to yank at her neckline and pull at her hair as he struggled to remain perched on her hip. The pain from her scalp was excruciating as sticky fingers clenched a fistful of her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes as she immediately looked at Phineas in shock. She saw the wave of satisfaction in his eyes and realized that the man thrived on fear… her fear. He thought he’d gotten the better of her, causing her blood to boil and a roaring in her ears. Jerking her arm away, Clara knew she would never marry him.
“Grabbing me thus does not further your cause,” she admonished tightly.
“My cause?” he said with a jovial laugh that only made her angrier. He’d utterly dismissed her anger and dismay as if she was no more than a gnat.
“My dear, Clara…” he began drawing closer. She would not take a chance of dropping Jack again and tightened her hold on the toddler. Jack promptly put his head down on her shoulder and popped a thumb into his mouth.
“… You’ve nowhere to go and I’ve generously agreed to marry you regardless of dowry, taking in both you and your brother. My ‘cause’, as you put it, is only to get to know my soon-to-be wife and to show my affection towards you.”
“I’ve no inclination to become your wife.”
“And I sincerely care not for what you want. We shall be married Saturday, and I’ve already made the arrangements. If you do not marry me, then you and your brother will be evicted that afternoon. So, your choices are to move into my home as my bride or move out of your own home to wherever,” he said loftily, waving his hand idly into the air.
“Please don’t do this,” she breathed, hating the wheedling sound to her voice that she was sure to soothe his arrogant temperament. She could see the man was a nasty bully and would only be amicable if he thought he had the upper hand.
Phineas stepped forward aggressively into the space immediately around her. It took everything not to back away from him. She felt herself stand there, painfully frozen, as she clenched at Jack for mental support. She had to take care of him and protect him!
A cool, thick finger touched her cheek, and she could not help the way her head jerked back. Her jaw bumped into Jack’s curly mane, only to be seized painfully and turned towards Phineas.
“I like a hellion,” he breathed, staring stonily into her eyes. She knew she probably appeared to the man as if she was frightened or scared. Her own eyes darted back and forth between his, but only to anticipate his next move. He was bold, aggressive, and hid a very nasty, angry man under those tailored clothes. He might have fooled everyone else, but she could see who he was deep down inside.
“Say my name.”
“Never.”
He released her jaw, only to seize her about the throat. He didn’t squeeze or put pressure; it was a threatening manner used to intimidate her, instead it reinforced the fact that she would never submit to this man.
“Say my name, Clara.”
“You are the devil,” she spat angrily, “and I will never marry you.”
Phineas laughed merrily and released her, stepping away and clapping his hands. That cloy, jovial smile that made her skin crawl was back as he continued walking backwards away from where she stood with Jack.
“I shall enjoy our wedding night and breaking my sweet filly,” he said loudly. Clara felt her face turn bright red with mortification and humiliation before looking around to see if anyone had heard his impropriety towards her.
“Night-night?” Jack said questioningly, raising his head off her shoulder and struggled, wiggling about. He hated naptime and bedtime, and truthfully, so did Clara. Bedtime involved Jack getting out of bed ten or twenty times and her patiently tucking him back in repeatedly. It was always a fight between them, or at least until one of them was worn out.
“No, sweetie. It’s not night-nighttime, but we will go home and take a nap so I can think of how to get us out of this horrid mess,” she crooned, smoothing his curls and trying to settle her brother down.
The brief walk home involved her carrying Jack and ignoring his wails of indignity as he flopped backwards and forwards in an attempt to get away. Walking into the eerily silent house devoid of barking coughs that still smelled like death and decay, she set Jack down and let him run away from her. It would be easier on them both if he exhausted himself further, lending to her desire for a little time alone to think.
The toddler raced from room to room, spinning down the hallway away from their parent’s bedroom. It was sad that he remembered that he wasn’t allowed in there because of the sickness and repeated pulling him away over the last few months. She couldn’t bear to think of Jack succumbing to the wasting disease. A loud knock at the door interrupted the chaos and her thoughts.
“Who is it?”
“Your intended.”
“Go away, please.”
“I thought I might share some news with my little filly.”
“I am not your little filly!” she snarled angrily. “Go away!”
“I’ll leave the paper for you on the stoop,” Phineas called out. “There’s an article you might want to see.”
“I want nothing from you!”
“I’ll see you Saturday at the church. Wear something cheerful, not that black bombazine gown you had on today. It’s atrocious and depressing. We’ll be celebrating our future.”
“I won’t be there!”
“It’s your choice. I will win regardless.”
Thumbing her nose silently at the door, she waited several minutes for him to leave before gingerly opening the door. A newspaper sat on the stoop, folded open to a page with an announcement. Glancing down, she grabbed the paper and hurriedly shut the door behind her. Clara was unwilling to give Phineas the satisfaction of seeing her read the article that was obviously circled in ink just for her.
Mister Phineas Montgomery and Miss Clara Winslow will be joined in matrimony, following the untimely demise of parents due to illness. Mr. Montgomery has generously offered for the young bride and accepted the responsibility of caring for her younger brother, Jack. Always a caring friend and benefactor for the family, a large donation has been made to the church in the Winslow name on the bride’s behalf by Mr. Montgomery. The nuptials are to take place…
Clara could read no more.
Bile threatened to choke her at the sheer audacity. The horrid man made himself out to look like a saint to everyone, and anyone reading the paper. No one would have her without questioning why she didn’t marry Phineas. He would have her cornered if she bothered to care what others thought right now. At this point, she felt numb. She was horrified and bothered by the gall of the man - and the pressure by such a public declaration . Only a man down on his luck would want another man’s castoffs, she thought.
Scanning the page again, Clara gasped as another ad caught her eye.
Mail-Order Bride wanted in the Arizona Territory!
Single man, age 30, seeking domesticated wife to help with cooking, cleaning, mending on a large ranch outside of Tombstone. An independent nature is required of applicant. Smart, and open to adventure, is highly preferred. No preference in looks, marriage in name only. Teeth and all limbs are a must. Filled with first application because of immediate demand. Send a telegram to accept position.
“Jack! Jack! No nap today,” Clara cried excitedly. This was just what she needed! No pressure, no requirements, and a place to hide away and simply exist. She could cook, some. She could certainly clean and mend. A ranch outside of Tombstone would mean that she could disappear and hide, giving Jack the freedom to grow up without being under Phineas’ thumb.
Seeing him run into t
he room smiling, Clara knew this had to be the right thing to do. Marrying Phineas wasn’t an option, but being latched to some stranger who wouldn’t pressure her for more than domestic needs around the house, seemed almost too good to be true! Scooping up the toddler, she grabbed her reticule and raced out the front door. Arizona, and her mysterious groom, seemed to be the answer to an unspoken prayer.
Clara had a telegram to send in a hurry!
Chapter 2
Position accepted!
All requirements are present. I will depart at first light for the Arizona Territory–Clara Winslow
“Wooooweeeee! You got yerself a lady-friend coming to cook and clean for ya, Mule,” Curly said with a slap on the back that started his brothers laughing. “Never thought you’d up and order yourself a woman, but you’ve always been an odd duck.”
“Can’t you get one here?” Ike guffawed. “Everyone knows Mule earned his name!”
“Brother, you could just get one of the lady-friends in town to scratch that ol’ itch,” Billy teased, as his family went round and round, poking jabs at him. It was nothing to be the center of their joke. James had never seemed to fit in with the Clanton family. In truth, he was the exact opposite of them all.
The Clanton ranch was a massive undertaking with over five hundred head of cattle, all ‘acquired’ under nefarious means. If James was to guess, he’d say that they had pilfered about ninety percent of the cattle at one point or another. Their brand wasn’t even registered in Cochise or Pima county, and the territory required that by law.
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