Book Read Free

AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)

Page 72

by Carmella Jones


  Everyone cheered when they saw the supposed criminal hanging there. They seemed pleased with their accomplishment.

  Katherine looked out into the crowd. She saw angry faces looking at her, staring at her with spiteful eyes. In that moment, she felt so alone. She felt like she had been abandoned, and soon she hung her head, closing her eyes and resigning herself to her fate.

  While Katherine felt herself give up, Adam slammed against the door of the post. In a fury of frustration, he had found the post closed. Soon, however, he managed to break down the door. It splintered under his weight as he collapsed into the post. The building was empty.

  Adam looked around for a moment before jumping over the counter. In a flourish, he knocked over bins, looking through them quickly. Suddenly, while throwing countless envelopes over his shoulder, he looked down and saw the rest of the missing figurines.

  Adam cursed his friend in his mind. He needed to set this right. Adam quickly left the post and rushed to the town center, hearing all the commotion. He dismounted and his eyes grew large when he saw his wife hanging on the cross, looking like Christ. Adam’s eyes blurred with rage.

  He felt so betrayed. He never imagined that his friend would do this to him. He couldn’t believe that the town had done this to her. Finally, Adam broke his gaze away from his defeated wife and looked around at the crowd. As he did, he spotted the villain on the other side of the crowd.

  He pushed his way through the mass of people. Abruptly, he grabbed his friend by the collar and turned him around. Upon seeing his friend’s face, Adam couldn’t hold back his anger. Suddenly, he punched Filip in the face, knocking him to the ground.

  Filip hit the ground hard, before getting up, blood slipping from the corner of his mouth.

  “What is the meaning of this, Adam?” Filip asked, enraged. His voice rose above the crowd, grabbing their attention.

  Everyone turned around looking at the two men, shocked. It was well known that the horse tamer and the postman were best friends. Why then were they fighting?

  The crowd looked on, watching as the men threw punches at one another.

  “How could you do this to me?” Adam yelled at his friend, trying to punch him in the face again. As he did, Filip got him in the gut, making him double over in pain. “How could you frame my innocent wife?” he wheezed out. The crowd gasped. Was it true?

  At this point, Katherine looked up to see her husband fighting Filip. She didn’t know what was going on.

  “You were the one stealing from the nativity all along!” The crowd gasped again. There were whispers circling around the men. They wondered if it was true. The sheriff quickly sent someone to check the post while he separated the two men who were huffing at each other.

  The air was tense as everyone waited for the news. Soon enough the man the sheriff had sent to check the post came back with figurines in his arms. “It’s true! Filip is the true culprit!” Everyone’s eyes grew in surprise.

  Quickly, the town worked to get Katherine off the cross, throwing hasty apologies in her direction. They felt awful for their mistaken accusation. They hoped one day she would find it in her heart to forgive them. She smiled at them and assured them that they were already forgiven. It was Christmas, and she couldn’t hold a grudge.

  Finally, the sheriff let go of Adam when he had Filip in custody. Adam ran to his wife’s side and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight to his chest. He kissed the top of her head as she laid her head on his chest.

  “I told you I would always be by your side, didn’t I?” Adam whispered softly.

  “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” Katherine looked up at her husband. As she did, the little old priest walked up to them holding a mistletoe. He held it over their heads. The couple grinned before pressing their lips together and enjoying a passionate, loving kiss on Christmas Day.

  THE END

  Enjoyed the story? Please flip to the end of the book to get directed to leave a review on Amazon - Thank you!

  Click here to access your table of contents

  Enjoy your book: The Amish Mail Order Bride

  Want to receive FREE Romance Kindle E-Books delivered right to your inbox?

  Click this link and fill out the brief e-mail opt-in form

  Click the link above or enter: http://goo.gl/3rhKhz into your browser.

  The Amish Mail Order Bride: Chapter One

  Abigail stood at the threshold of the log cabin that her father erected when he and her mother married, her hand shaking as she put it on the door. This was it. She was going to leave her home, where she'd grown up and spent the last twenty years of her life, and travel into the wild unknown. The prospect was scary--daunting even. But what was more daunting was the prospect of not leaving.

  Her life was not a terrible life, but the constant toil of living in the backwards and primitive society that her Amish family embraced was suffocating. She had no free time, no real privacy, and no autonomy. To her, life was a gift from God to be lived out to the fullest--not to toil and sweat every day of her existence. Surely, there was something to be said about a hard day's work. She wouldn't deny that. Yet still, the unending labor on her family's farm was enough to motivate her to seek asylum outside of the insular Amish community in which she lived.

  When the idea of leaving first popped into Abigail's head, an immediate wall formed between her and the possibility of starting a new life outside of her village. She was a twenty-year-old girl whose only skills were housekeeping and basic farm work. Her job prospects would be dismal at best if she were to try and make it on her own. Still, she did have one thing going for her--her looks.

  Abigail received a very nice mix of traits from her rather unassuming parents. Though they looked homely enough, she hit the genetic lottery by getting the best that each of her parent's genes had to offer. Her face was heart shaped and full, with high cheek bones and a small nose, with full lips and almond eyes. Her body was slim and lean from the hard work she did on the farm, but it was not gangly. She had delicate hands and a fair complexion, and was overall quite pretty.

  While perhaps Abigail wouldn't have won any huge awards for her beauty, she did find a way out of her community thanks to this fortunate set of traits she was born with. Taking a picture of herself that she had made without her parents knowing, she put out an ad, selling herself to be someone's wife if they would only support her. Shortly after putting this ad out, she received an eager suitor and was sent the money needed to travel to his location.

  Still, even after receiving the money and therefore the freedom to leave, Abigail's legs would not carry her to the freedom that she so earnestly thought that she needed.

  "What are you doing standing like that at the door, Abigail?" the thin, hard voice of her mother asked, coming behind her and giving her a curious glance.

  "I forgot where I was going," Abigail replied. She disliked lying, and so she was always bad at it. Still, her mother didn't question the lame response.

  "If you'd keep your mind more focused on the here and now instead of all that daydreaming you're so fond of, then you wouldn't be as scatterbrained," her mother said. "Seeing as it's morning and you're already at the door, why don't you go milk the cows?"

  The order given, Abigail nodded and went out to the barn. Her family had a very large barn. So large, in fact, that if it were only for her family, it would have been superfluous. However, her family shared this large barn with their neighbors, the Petersheims, since they lived close by and got along without any fuss whatsoever. This arrangement was beneficial because it meant that the basic upkeep for the place could be split into two parts and then further divided amongst the respective families. Yet Abigail didn't appreciate the advantages of sharing this barn with her neighbors, and a part of her dreaded making the trek out to milk the cows, because each time she went to the shared barn it seemed an inevitability that she would run into Jebediah.

  This morning was no exception. When she walked in with the milk pail, Je
bediah was tending to the horses. He was a tall boy with a ruddy complexion and plenty of muscles from his hard and endless labors. He was handsome enough--and rather nice to boot. However, he had two flaws as far as Abigail could tell. One, he fancied her despite her having no interest in him, and two, he seemed to be the dullest person that you could ever imagine.

  His first flaw, Abigail did not blame him for. After all, he couldn't help it that he liked Abigail, no more than Abigail could help that she didn't like him. However, his second flaw was one that was intolerable to Abigail, and the unrepentant boring demeanor of his person was a plague that afflicted all of the members of her community, at least as far as she could tell. There was something about working from dusk till dawn and shunning everything that was fun and enjoyable in life that made a person dull--go figure!

  Still, seeing Jebediah was not a terrible experience. He never made any unwelcome gestures towards her, unless his conversation counted. Yet just being around him inflamed in Abigail an insufferable sense of annoyance at his general person. The feeling could best be described as suffocating. Jebediah was kind, considerate, and plenty sweet, but he was just totally uninteresting to Abigail, yet she didn't know how she could possibly shake him off without hurting his feelings.

  "Good morning, Abbey!" Jebediah said when he saw Abigail walk in, ignoring for a moment the horse he was feeding and waving to her with a warm smile.

  "Oh, good morning, Jebediah," Abigail responded in a notably colder tone, yet Jebediah didn't seem to much notice. He just resumed the task of giving hay to the horses while Abigail started her own work.

  A short time passed in which the only sound heard between them was the sound of the animals making their noises, buckets sloshing with milk, and hay rustling against itself. It was a strained and awkward silence in Abigail's mind, but whenever she happened to glance on Jebediah, he was wearing the same self-satisfied smile. She felt almost as if he were mocking her. No, not almost. What else would that smile be there for if not for mocking? She knew fine rightly that was the reason he was grinning away, so proud of himself. After all, what else could he have to smile about? Not his work. His work was as dull and monotonous as her own.

  Once they had finished, Abigail was making the first trip inside with two buckets of milk, though two more would have to be brought in by her second trip. At least they would if it weren't for Jebediah finishing at that moment and choosing to help her in her labors by picking up the buckets and walking after her.

  "Sure is a lot of milk, huh?" Jebediah asked, but in a cheerful way to say that he was happy that there was so much abundance.

  "Yes, well, one of the cows got pregnant without our real wanting or wishing for her to, but it's not bad to have a little extra milk. We might even get to have ice cream as a treat thanks to it," Abigail said. That was one small blessing. She could almost always depend on a good meal to come from the kitchen, and even cross her fingers for homemade ice cream during times of plenty like this. Though her family was very conservative with everything--with rope or die or leather or candles, what have you, at the very least this conservation was reasonable. After all, how long can you save milk? So it was best not to waste it.

  "I wish that would happen to us, but then again we don't got too many cows. Next time the fair comes along, we'll have to buy one," Jebediah said.

  "Oh, no. Our cow had a girl. Your father should have a talk with mine, if you really need it. If you should buy anything, it's best to buy it from your neighbors if you can," Abigail said. After all, it would benefit both families. Hers would get a little money, and her mom might treat everyone to some homemade root beer with some odds and ends she could buy from the store with the extra money, and Jebediah's family could have enough milk once the calf could grow into a mature cow, provided they keep their other sows supplying.

  "Really? Well, Pa would like to hear that. Thanks for tellin' me that, Abbey!"

  "It's not a big deal, really," Abigail said dismissively. She didn't really want Jebediah's thanks. To her, she was just as well without it.

  "Well, big deal or no, it helps," Jebediah said. As they got to the door, little Charity, Abigail's youngest sister, opened it up. She wasn't big enough to do very much, but she seemed jealous of people who could. So, she adopted the task of being the door opener for everyone coming in with a heavy burden, and she accomplished the task as though she had eyes at every entrance.

  "Thank you, Charity," Abigail said, leaning over to give her little sister a kiss on the forehead, then she walked inside and on into the kitchen, setting the pails down on the table and getting out the jugs that her family usually put the milk in, along with a funnel. "And thank you, Jebediah," Abigail said as he put down the pails he was carrying.

  "Oh, of course. Well, I'll see you around, Abbey!" Jebediah said as he left.

  Once he was gone, Abigail just silently fumed about how smug he was. Sure, he was nice enough, but he was so annoying! Abigail just hated it, quite honestly. She hated everything about him, and all the others around her. Before pouring the milk, however, she pushed her thoughts about her dissatisfaction with her life out of her head and resolved that she would leave as soon as possible. Ice cream be damned; it wasn't worth this.

  Chapter Two

  Before Abigail really knew it, she had taken a generous offer from a friend to drive her to the town hall under the pretense that she had some work to be done there. Once there, she waited for the bus that came around noon, which always dropped off tourists on weekends, and hopped on, giving the driver his fare and taking a seat.

  Once in her seat, she very carefully examined everything to do with the directions to get to her new husband's home. After committing that to memory, she put the papers away and just stared out the window as the scenery slowly flowed by.

  As the bus left Amish country, so too did she. For a moment, she felt a pang of regret and sadness, and thought about returning back home. Of course, she didn't, and she wouldn't, but that pang was there. What would her mother say when she saw that only half of the milk had been stowed away in the jugs, and that Abigail hadn't even put them in the icebox? Would she badmouth Abigail and look around for her, yelling out that she was lazy and wretched? Or would she think the scene too strange and become worried about her daughter's safety.

  Sad how Abigail didn't even know her mother well enough for a satisfactory answer to that question. Still, she wasn't sad that she didn't stick around for longer to get to know this family of hers better. If twenty years hadn't sufficed, perhaps it was just not for her to learn.

  Abigail satisfied herself with the question by just pushing it completely out of her mind and focusing on the fact that she was finally leaving the little town and going into the wide world. She found it curious how there was no one grand event that pushed her to making that decision; she just decided to go. She was more like a beast of burden who, as more and more was piled upon her back, quietly bore it all until finally there was too much. In that situation, the only options were to bear the torment and let her back break under pressure, or throw off the shackles of bondage and be done. She chose the latter, and was proud of herself for the choice, but as she watched the village where she'd spent her whole life, she felt a sour feeling in her chest.

  Why was this? She should be happy to be leaving into a new life, yet she felt a physical pain in her chest. Was it because she didn't give her parents a proper goodbye? How could she? If she dared to do such a thing, she would never have been able to leave. Though she was twenty years old, her parents would have done everything in their power to keep her at home rather than letting her go out into the world. Perhaps they would even think they were doing the righteous thing by preventing their daughter from being hurt by the big bad world, but how would they know what was best for her? They were nothing like her. That was the reason that she found living in that community so intolerable. She was a free soul. She enjoyed having fun and being allowed to move about and do as she pleased. Now, she had n
o issue with putting in a hard day's work, but after work there should be play. At least, that's how she felt, and that's where her community strongly disagreed with her.

  Chapter Three

  When Abigail arrived to her husband's home--her new home--she couldn't have been more disappointed. Still, there would be little use in displaying her feelings openly, and so she masked them and went to the door of her new husband's residence. To call it a home could have been accurate depending on who was asked, but to call it a house would have been a gross over-exaggeration.

  This new residence that she would be taking was little more than a double-wide trailer. Perhaps it was spacious enough for two people to live in comfortably, but the muddy cinder blocks, cigarette smoke stained windows, and faulty siding showed at the very least that this place was not in good repair. The trashy lawn ornaments and unkempt grass showed poor taste and lack of management. Still, Abigail had gotten this far, and there was no reason that she should turn back now, just because of a little bit of unsavory aesthetics. After all, she didn't need an opulent palace. She didn't need a fancy estate. She just needed a place to call home--a place where she could be free.

  Going up to the weather-beaten plywood door, Abigail hesitated slightly before giving it three sharp knocks. After so doing, she waited for a few seconds, which felt like minutes, perhaps even longer than that, before someone did finally answer the door.

  Abigail had very little by the way of expectations for the man who would be her husband. In truth, the only expectations she clung to were that he would be able to provide shelter and food for her, along with other basic necessities, or at least provide an opportunity for her to cover these necessities for herself. But even with her rather lax expectations going in, she was still shocked when the door opened.

 

‹ Prev