ROMANCE: MAIL ORDER BRIDE: The Other Man’s Baby (A Clean Christian Historical Western) (New Adult Inspirational Pregnancy Romance)

by Joyce Wright

  It was a pleasant reverie that occupied his thoughts for the rest of the trip. When the train slowed to a stop, he picked up his valise and exited, eager to meet his bride. The train station was crowded with family and friends welcoming the arrivals. He was taller than most of the other passengers, so it was easy for him to scan the crowd. Off to the side, standing between a man and a woman, he saw her; she had told him in her letter that she’d be wearing a hat with violets on the brim.

  His long-legged stride took him to the trio quickly. Miss DeFlore’s head was lowered; maybe the sun was in her eyes, he thought. She looked up hesitantly as his shadow fell upon her. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes; they were changeable, he noticed, with bits of green, blue, and even tiny specks of what looked like amber in them, with thick black lashes so long that they ought to be getting in the way of her seeing.

  “Miss Violet,” he said.

  “Mr. Jackson.”

  “Oh, stuff. You’re going to be married tomorrow; I think it’s time for you to get used to your given names,” said the woman, a tall, lean woman who reminded Lucas of a paddle, so spare was her outline. Not Miss Violet, though; his bride-to-be was round and curvy, generously proportioned in the places that a woman should be and brimming with health, from her pretty pink lips to her clear, creamy skin.

  “Miss Violet,” he said, “I reckon I’m out of line, but I’d sure like to kiss you,” he said.

  The woman chuckled. “If that’s out of line, I reckon every woman in Texas is signing up for it.”

  He bent his head and took her into his arms. She felt strong and sturdy in his embrace as he held her. Her lips were pliant, and soft; warm and not reluctant for his kiss. He let her go, mindful of the need to conduct himself like a gentleman, even if his thoughts were not what a gentleman should be thinking before he’d put a ring on a woman’s finger.

  The woman introduced herself as Lily Landis, and her husband Charlie, a man whose slender weight seemed to leave no support for words because he simply nodded when his wife made the introductions.

  “Rev. Whitacre will be over this evening for the wedding,” Lily explained as Lucas assisted Miss Violet into the back seat of the buckboard. “We figured you and Violet could use some time this afternoon to get to know each other a little better.”

  “Sounds right fine, Miss Lily. Thank you for your troubles.”

  “No trouble. Violet’s my only sister and we do right by our kin.”

  She said this fiercely but Lucas thought better of her for it. It would be good to have family; his own parents had died of fever ten years ago, and he had a brother who’d gone to Nevada to mine and ended up dead in an accident. People with family were connected and Lucas wanted that for his family, once he had one.

  Chapter Three

  Lily kept up a conversation the entire length of the trip back to her home, and Lucas answered her questions without tiring. It was natural that she’d be cautious about a stranger coming to take her sister away and he wanted to make certain that she knew that Miss Violet would be in good hands. He told them about the town he lived in, the number of cattle in his herd and the number of hands he had working for him. He assured Miss Lily that he was baptized and saved and in church on Sunday. He didn’t smoke or curse and he drank sparingly.

  “I won’t lie and say I’ve taken the pledge, because I haven’t, but I’m not out carousing on Saturday night. I like music,” he added, giving Miss Violet a sideways glance. She looked back shyly and smiled, as he added, “I’m looking forward to hearing that fine alto that your Missionary Society president spoke of.”

  “Violet has a mighty pretty voice,” Lily affirmed. “She’s the only one in the family, except for our Ma, who knows how to make a tune sound like it’s coming straight from a bird. Me and our sister Rose, she that was the twins’ mother, we sounded like someone was scrubbing nails in a washbucket when we sang. But Violet always sings a solo on Easter morning, and I’ll tell you, Lucas---you don’t mind me calling you Lucas, do you, being as how we’ll be kin soon—there’s no better way to think of the resurrection than to hear our Violet singing about it.”

  Violet made a sound of protest; Lucas took her hand in his and held it. She didn’t object. They rode the rest of the way holding hands, while he continued to answer Lily’s questions and tried to concentrate on his responses, all the while bewitched by the floral scent that Miss Violet was wearing, the soft fabric of her sleeve when it brushed against his hand, and the bright colors of her dress, lavender and pink, next to the sober black of his suit. He felt half in love with her already, just because she had pretty eyes and soft lips and a pretty dress. He was foolish for thinking such worldly thoughts, he knew; marriage was ordained by God for the raising of children. But it was God, Lucas argued in his mind while his senses wallowed in the awareness of her femininity, who said that it was not right for man to be alone. Just now, he felt the devil in him, wishing that he and Miss Violet were alone, all right, and married.

  The horses pulled the buckboard into a sprawling house that appeared to have been added on according to need rather than an architect’s plan. The front door opened and young ones ranging in age from toddlers in dresses to a young lady who looked to be around sixteen spilled out, shouting their greetings.

  “Are those the twin?” Lucas asked, pointing to the matching set of children in dresses who were clambering to get out of the confining arms of their keepers.

  “Lucas,” Lily turned around and fixed him with an intent stare that looked like bullets firing out of a rifle. “You mean right by Violet?”

  “I do, Miss Lily,” he said uncertainly.

  “You mean to wed her, for better or worse?”

  “I do.”

  “Some would say twin two-year olds are the worse part of that wedding vow,” she warned grimly.

  “Lily---“ Miss Violet began, but the twins had spotted her and they were wriggling out of the arms of the oldest of the youths as if they had more arms and legs than God had seen fit to give most folks.

  Lucas smiled. Maybe someday they’d go on so when they saw him coming. His heart swelled with warmth as he helped Miss Violent to the ground and the twins, finally released, hurried over to her, a tiny swarm of two, with untamed yellow curls that blew in the breeze like captive flower petals. Clearly they had no mind for anyone but Miss Violet, who swept them up into her arms and kissed them as if she’d missed them.

  “Rosie, Ren, I want you to meet someone. Now stand still, mind your manners.”

  But the twins, distracted by the violets in her hat, were reaching for it with eager fingers. Carefully, Lucas reached for the boy and took him into his arms. Rendell tried to break free, then he knocked the hat from Lucas’ head. Lucas looked at him, a long, level glance that allowed the two to take each other’s measure. Then Lucas, Rendell under his arm, bent over to pick up his hat, which he put on Rendell’s head. Rendell burst into laughter, which caught his sister’s attention. She turned to look at him and reached for the hat. Rendell shook his head vehemently and placed the hat in front of his face so that he could not see his sister.

  “Lucas,” Lily said, “I don’t know if that fine hat is going to stand up to the kind of attention it’s getting.”

  “It’s just a hat,” Lucas said, trying not to grin too much. He’d have a son like this one day, he was sure. An impish little boy who’d want to wear his Pa’s hat, and probably his boots too. Miss Violet had brought him a family and he wished he had the words to tell her how grateful he was. The house that was so silent was going to be overflowing with laughter, voices, singing, and probably some scolding, too. Children needed firmness, and looking at his bride-to-be, he reckoned that the firmness would have to come from him. That was all right. There was strength in being able to love children, especially children she hadn’t birthed. He looked over at her, to catch her eye, but she was trying to introduce her nieces and nephews, a fine-looking brood, while Lily barked orders and questions and Charlie d
isappeared, having exhausted his quotient of human society. The names tumbled from her lips and were matched by handshakes from the boys and quick bobs from the girls. He hoped he’d be able to remember them; they were his nieces and nephews too, now, or at least, they would be on the morrow.

  “Supper will be ready in a couple of hours, or sooner if these lazy girls of mine did what I told them to do,” Lily announced. “Why don’t you two go along for a walk by the crick and spend some time together?’

  “What about the twins?” Lucas asked.

  Lily snorted. “How are you going to do any courting when you’re busy trying to keep those two devils out of the water? Go on, we’ll mind them here. Josie will call for you when we’re sitting down to eat.”

  “I’ll fetch them when it’s ready,” Josie said. She was a freckle-faced girl with brown braids tied with blue ribbons, the oldest of the girls, Lucas decided.

  “You’ll do no such thing, Josephine Landis. I know what you’re up to, trying to sneak and see if Lucas is trying to steal a kiss from Violet. Well, he probably will, and seeing as they’re marrying tomorrow, it’s not stealing, it’s just borrowing. Lucas, I hope you like sausages and potato pie because that’s what we’re eating. If the girls did right by Violet’s recipe, the potato pie will make you happy you’re getting a cook for a wife.”

  “Sounds mighty tasty, Miss Lily,” Lucas said happily.

  Chapter Four

  Violet led him away from the house and barn, “The creek’s back this way,” she told him.

  “A nice spread. Will you miss it? West Texas looks different.”

  “I’m not from here originally. I moved here after Rose died. My folks and I ran the boarding house in Oklahoma and after they passed on, I took over.”

  “That’s when your sister died?”

  Violet nodded. He had taken her arm as they began to stroll; there were places where the ground was uneven and the grass spongy from the moisture of the creek, but Violet was sure-footed, even if she was willing to link arms for support that she didn’t need. It was pleasant to walk this way, with no particular purpose or destination, simply enjoying the pleasure of her company and her womanly presence.

  “I tried to continue with the boarding house; I’d done all right after Ma and Pa were gone, but I couldn’t tend to the boarders and the twins, too. I expect that if I’d been their real mother I’d have found a way,” she said as if this were a failure on her part.

  “How so?”

  “A real mother would know what to do to make the twins mind.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Violet laughed. “You sound like Charlie,” she said, looking at him.

  He hoped Josie wasn’t hiding behind a tree, watching, but it didn’t matter if she was, because he was set on kissing Miss Violet anyway. Her head tilted back and as he pressed his lips against hers, the soft, silken weight of her hair felt good against his hand. Thinking of her with her hat off and all that brown hair falling around her shoulders, with nothing but a nightgown to conceal her from view, made him kiss her harder as desire overtook his control. She was kissing him back, her lips parting with ardor. He’d kissed women before, but not like this, not with that promise of kisses that lasted and turned into more than just a moment’s heady pleasure. He pulled her into his arms, his hands pushing her closer to him so that he could feel, beneath her frock, the undulations of her breasts and thighs. She made a noise and then pulled away. “I—we’d better—“

  “Reckon so,” he agreed, catching his breath. “I meant no disrespect, Miss Violet, but you’re a mighty desirable woman.”

  She lifted her chin to look at him. “I am?” she asked, those stunning eyes brimming with what looked to him like a mixture of hope and doubt.

  He touched the soft swell of her cheek; a few tendrils had come loose from her hair. Gently he moved the strands away. “When we get back home,” he promised, “you’ll find reason to believe what I say.”

  She reached up her hand to touch his cheek. He was glad he’d shaved so carefully, but he’d need to shave again tomorrow morning. “You’re a fine-looking man, Lucas. I didn’t expect you to look so fine.”

  “What did you expect me to look like,” he asked curiously.

  He was still hatless thanks to Rendell. Locks of his thick black hair lifted as the breeze blew through, bringing a hint of cooler weather along that was welcome after a hot summer. Violet was too shy to tell him that he was handsome or that his warm brown eyes reminded her of her molasses and spice cake. His shoulders spanned wide across the spread of his jacket, indicating strength and fortitude. He was a Texan; a man who had to bend nature to his will in order to make his living, but hard work and determination hadn’t taken away a gentleness in him that she didn’t remember noticing in other men. Maybe it was because he was sure of himself and what he’d achieved. He didn’t seem to doubt much, but he wasn’t a braggart. When he’d kissed her . . . Violet blushed at the realization that she’d wanted him to go on kissing her.

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking down. “Rose was the pretty one in the family.”

  “I had a brother. He was the good-looking one,” Lucas said. “Whit was his name. He died in a Colorado mining camp; Whit was wild. I always hoped he’d settle down but he didn’t.”

  “Rose was gentle and sweet. She was so proud of having twins, but after they were born, her strength just faded. She was poorly for a long time and by that time, the twins were six months old and Caleb was looking for a wife.”

  “The twins didn’t want to leave you? I reckon it’s hard for a man to raise children on his own. Women do seem to have a natural knack for it.”

  Violet shook her head. “His new wife didn’t want them. They’re a handful, I know, but they weren’t even a year old then, not even walking yet. Caleb asked me to take them.”

  “And you did,” Lucas said, wondering what kind of man would give up his own flesh and blood. “That’s pretty brave of you.”

  Violet laughed. “Oh, the twins are lively but they’re not really bad.”

  “I didn’t—you mistake my meaning. It was brave of you to take on that load. Mothering.”

  He sounded almost reverent as he spoke, gazing at her with a tender look in his brown eyes as if she had done something quite out of the ordinary.

  “I hope—I hope we’ll have more children,” he said awkwardly, “so that the twins have brothers and sisters.”

  He felt as if perhaps he shouldn’t have said so much. But then he was kissing her again and she was kissing him back with abandon, her hair tumbling free of its pins as her hat fell to the ground.

  “Ma says supper’s ready!” Josie’s voice bawled out from the porch, clearly audible despite the distance.

  “Oh---my hair!”

  Lucas bent to the ground and picked up the pins, helping her to restore order to the beautiful mane of rich, burnished brown tresses that satisfied a bit of his passionate curiosity about how she’d look when they were alone and she was his wife. She adjusted her hat, inserted the pins and asked him if she looked all right.

  Lucas grinned. Violet blushed.

  “You look better than a good woman should, Miss Violet,” he told her, his ardor blatant in his praise.

  The pink was still in Violet’s cheeks when they reached the porch. Lily gave them a knowing, satisfied smile before she began to say grace.

  The Reverend Whitacre arrived just as they were finishing up supper and Lily invited him to join them. He was a jolly, portly man who clearly enjoyed his meals, and he accepted Lily’s offer even though the rest of the family was settling into dessert.

  Lucas saw the young folks share grins and he gathered that the minister was known for timing his visits to coincide with meals. Lucas wouldn’t typically have minded, but he was now impatient for the vows and the night to come. Tomorrow, they’d return on the train to West Texas, man and wife and family. He asked where the twins were.

  “Sleeping,” Josie said
. “We had them out playing all day so they’d be tired early. Ma said to make sure they were wore down so that they didn’t raise a fuss tonight because you and Aunt Violet didn’t need to be tending to two-year olds on your wedding night.” She was grinning as if she sensed his embarrassment at her candor.