Finding Hope (Mail Order Bride: Brides And Promises Book 1)

by Ruby Hill

  “You’re not from these parts though, I’d guess?”

  Shaking her head, Grace lifted one shoulder. “I suppose I’ll work things out. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your aunt.”

  Thomas’ smile was warm and genuine. “She’s the kindest soul you’ll ever meet, just not the best cook. I’ll be looking forward to eating with you all this evening.”

  Grace blinked. “You come here to eat?”

  “Most days, yes,” he said, with an easy smile. “I’m building my own cabin just a mile or so over that way,” he pointed to the east. “I’m taking on the farm for my aunt. In fact, she’s signing it over to me real soon. Needs to get it back to being profitable—although there’s a lot of work to be done.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well,” he continued, with a broad smile, “I’d best be going. Got a lot of work to get done. I’ll see you this evening then, Miss Grace.”

  “J-just Grace,” she stammered, heat infusing her cheeks as he grinned at her. “I suppose I’d better get used to doing things a bit differently if I’m going to be living here.”

  He chuckled. “Very wise,” he smiled. “Well then, Grace, I’ll see you this evening.”

  Grace smiled back. “This evening then, Thomas. Goodbye.”

  5

  Mrs. Stevens still hadn’t returned by the time lunchtime came around, and Grace, her stomach rumbling, wondered whether it would be seen as rude for her to root around the place and find something to eat.

  After making herself some more coffee, Grace hurried outside in an attempt to find the henhouse, thinking she might make herself some scrambled eggs. Not only did she find them, but she also found a basket to collect the eggs. The hens ignored her for the most part, and Grace was delighted to find over two dozen eggs in the coop.

  Once back inside, Grace set about making herself some scrambled eggs, and using the last of the loaf of bread, she made a bit of toast for herself too. She decided that, once she’d eaten, she’d make another loaf for Mrs. Stevens—provided she could find all the ingredients!

  “Glad to see you’ve made yourself at home!”

  Getting to her feet, Grace hurried over to help Mrs. Stevens with the rest of her packages.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said quickly, a little concerned that the older lady would be cross with her. “I was getting hungry and I found some eggs in the henhouse. I’ll make you more bread, too.”

  Mrs. Stevens laughed. “Now don’t you start fretting, Grace. I’m more than happy that you’ve started settling in.” She set her packages down on the table and sniffed appreciatively. “And whatever it is you’ve made, it smells delicious!”

  Grace flushed. “It’s just some eggs. I can make you some if you’d like?”

  “That would be lovely!” Mrs. Stevens replied, sounding delighted. “I’ll just put these things away. Thomas is busy putting the horse and wagon away for me.”

  “Will he want some eggs, too?”

  Mrs. Stevens shook her head. “He’s already eaten, don’t you worry about him.” She gave Grace an appraising look. “I’m sorry he upset you earlier. I should have told him about you, but I didn’t get the chance. I had to go to town early to get a few supplies. When I made bread this morning, I didn’t realize I was practically out of flour!” She gestured at the remains of the small loaf. “Thankfully we’ve got a whole sack now.”

  As Grace whipped up some more eggs, she wondered if she should give some money to Mrs. Stevens. “I can pay you for my share,” she said quietly, hoping Mrs. Stevens would accept. “I have money from the selling of my house.”

  Mrs. Stevens shook her head firmly and sat down at the table. “No thank you, Grace,” she said firmly. “I’ve got more than enough money to care for the both of us.”

  “But I—”

  “You keep that money for yourself,” Mrs. Stevens insisted. “You’ll most likely marry some day, and I’m sure that money will come in handy for setting up your first home.” She smiled in appreciation, as Grace set down a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs and warm buttered toast in front of her. “Besides, I think you’re going to be worth your weight in gold if you can cook like this!”

  Grace laughed, as Mrs. Stevens, after saying a word of blessing, took a bite of the scrambled eggs and widened her eyes at Grace. They were just scrambled eggs after all, but Mrs. Stevens was acting as though they were some kind of exquisitely made fare.

  “Goodness,” Mrs. Stevens exclaimed, as she took another bite. “I ain’t never had eggs as good as these.” She looked up at Grace, a wide smile spreading across her face. “How about you take on the cooking around here?”

  “I’d be more than happy to,” Grace replied, beginning to clean up. “I know we haven’t really discussed the arrangements yet, and I am truly grateful for your kindness.” She put down the pot of freshly made coffee in the middle of the table, and setting down two mugs, she sat down opposite Mrs. Stevens. “I’m willing to do whatever I can to help you.”

  Mrs. Stevens smiled, although there was a touch of sadness in her eyes. “My dear Grace, you are already proving your worth. I’ve been saying for a long time that I was going to have someone live here with me, and it seems as though God sent you to me for that very purpose.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t offered me this place,” Grace murmured, her heart still sore with the pain of George Stubbs’ rejection. “I’m so ashamed of what I did.”

  Mrs. Stevens touched her hand briefly. “It’s understandable,” she said quietly. “I can understand a need to get away from the only place you’ve ever known, a need that drives you until you think you’ll go mad unless it’s satisfied.”

  “My friend, Clara, got married and moved away,” Grace murmured, suddenly missing her dear friend. “She was the one that sent me The Matrimonial News. I think she knew that I needed to change my life. She knew that I’d likley just give up on my own happiness and resign myself to living in that old house by myself until I turned to dust.”

  “And that hasn’t happened now, has it?” Mrs. Stevens replied, with a smile. “You’ve made your way out here, and you’ve got yourself a new life. One with friends.” Her smile broadened. “I hope we’re going to be friends, Grace. That was one of the reasons I asked you here. I’ve been lonely too, although I’m blessed that Thomas comes by each evening.”

  “Oh?” Grace looked up at Mrs. Stevens and saw the grief in her expression. “Have you never thought about moving closer to town?”

  Mrs. Stevens shook her head. “My husband and I built this house together,” she said quietly. “We raised our family here, although he never got to see them grow into adulthood.” Seeing Grace’s inquiring look, she smiled softly. “Two sons and a daughter. My daughter married a rancher and lives a little further west. She comes to see me from time to time.”

  “And your sons?”

  Pain flickered over Mrs. Stevens’ face. “One of them is out panning for gold, although goodness knows if he’s ever going to find any. And the other, my youngest…well, he passed away a year or so ago. A putrid fever that went for his lungs.”

  Grace saw the tears in Mrs. Stevens’ eyes and grasped her hand tightly. “I’m terribly sorry,” she whispered, her own heart hurting for the lady.

  Mrs. Stevens gave a hearty sniff, wiped at her eyes delicately and gave Grace a wobbly smile. “You’re very kind, thank you. But, as you can see, I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve needed a kind soul to share my home, and I think you’re just the right person for it.”

  Grace swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’d like that,” she managed to say, as a wave of warmth washed over her. “I’ve been on my own for a long time, too. Both my parents are deceased.”

  “Then we’ll help each other,” Mrs. Stevens replied, with a smile. “And Thomas too, of course.”

  “Of course,” Grace murmured, remembering how they’d talked that morning. “He’s taking over the farm?”

&
nbsp; “Oh, I’m signing it over to him,” Mrs. Stevens replied. “Not all of it, mind you, but most of it. This house and a small parcel of land are going to remain mine, but the rest of the land is his to work with as he likes.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Neither of my sons wanted to work the ground, whereas Thomas has the passion for it. He likes to work the fields and bring in the harvest, although he’s only managed a couple of fields so far.”

  Grace chewed on her bottom lip, a little confused. “He said he has a lot to do, to make the farm profitable?”

  “Yes, he does,” Mrs. Stevens replied, with a heavy sigh. “When my sons left and my daughter married, the land went to seed. I had no need for the income from it because, as it turned out, my husband had substantial shares in some cattle farm up north. The money from that will keep me going until the end of my days. So, I let the fields go fallow.” She smiled to herself, looking a little distant as she became lost in memories. “Thomas is my husband’s nephew, but he’s as much family to me as my own children. When he asked to take over the fields, I agreed at once. He is young and strong and has the enthusiasm for it.”

  “And is he making progress?”

  Mrs. Stevens nodded slowly. “He’s only just bought himself a few cows and made a field just for them. He’s hoping for calves in the spring. Like I said, he managed to bring in a harvest from two of the smaller fields last year, but he says there’s a lot more work to be done in the larger fields before he can even start planting.” She lifted her shoulders and sighed. “Not that I know much about it, but he says we have to start planting in early spring. That gives us a few months to clear the fields.”

  Grace took a long sip of her coffee, her hands warming on the edge of the cup. “You help him?”

  Mrs. Stevens shrugged, then chuckled. “I do what I can. Mostly, I make friends with the cows.” She grinned, as Grace laughed out loud, her eyes twinkling. “After all, I’m not in the grave yet, and I want to help him.”

  Grace smiled, taking in the lady’s warm features. She had wispy brown hair, streaked with grey and deep creases beside her eyes, and yet her green eyes were filled with life and vivacity. She would never dream of asking Mrs. Stevens how old she was, but Grace knew she would probably never be able to guess. Mrs. Stevens had a quality about her that told Grace she wanted to live every day of her life with purpose and meaning, a quality that Grace wanted for herself. She had the feeling that Mrs. Stevens could probably teach her a lot about life.

  “Now,” Mrs. Stevens said briskly. “If you take on the cooking, then that leaves me with the cleaning and laundry.”

  “I’ll help with whatever I can,” Grace replied hastily, not wanting Mrs. Stevens to take on the burden of Grace’s laundry. “I’m quite used to it.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Mrs. Stevens replied, with a smile. “But Thomas might make more use of you than I would.” She lifted one eyebrow. “That is, if you would be willing to help him.”

  Grace tried to keep her face impassive, lifting one shoulder. “I’m not particularly used to working in the fields, but I’ll do what I can to help. I’m just truly grateful for your kindness, Mrs. Stevens.”

  Mrs. Stevens chuckled. “Then I think you’d best call me Mary. There’s no need for formality around here, especially if we’re to be friends.”

  Warmth blossomed in Grace’s heart. “Mary it is, then,” she replied with a soft smile, realizing that, for the first time in years, she didn’t feel even the slightest bit lonely.

  6

  “Thomas!”

  Thomas smiled as his aunt threw her arms around his neck, as though she hadn’t seen him for years. She always gave him such a warm welcome, doing the same thing every day and making him smile because of it.

  “Nice to finally see you today,” he grinned, as she stepped back. “I was looking for you earlier.”

  “Yes, Grace told me about that,” she retorted, shaking her finger at him. “You shouldn’t have frightened her!”

  Thomas chuckled. “It wasn’t as though I meant to,” he said, taking off his hat. “She was just sitting here on the porch steps, looking for all the world as though she lived here, and I got the wrong impression.”

  Mary laughed. “Yes, you did. You scared the life out of her, I think!”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied, recalling how she’d lifted her chin as she’d retorted back at him. “She’s made of stern stuff, that girl.” He grinned, only to see his aunt looking at him with sadness in her eyes.

  “She’s had a difficult time, so be kind to her,” she said softly. “I know you are a compassionate soul, but none of that sarcasm, Thomas.” She lifted one eyebrow at him, her eyes narrowing just a little. “Do you hear me?”

  A little taken aback by her sharp tone, Thomas nodded. “Of course, Aunt Mary.”

  “She’s a kindred soul,” Mary continued, looking away from him and out towards the horizon. “She understands what it’s like to be alone and to have that ache in your heart that just won’t quit no matter what you do.”

  Thomas sat down on the porch steps, looking out into the distance and letting his aunt talk. He took no offense to the notion that Aunt Mary was lonely, even though he was with her every day. He understood what she meant—although he had no experience of the feelings she was struggling with. To lose a loved one must tear a wound so deep that it never fully healed.

  “Is she going to stay here long?” he asked, as the silence grew between them.

  “I don’t rightly know,” his aunt replied, with a sigh. “She’s only just got here, Thomas, and I’ve told her she can stay for as long as she likes. She’s going to do all the cooking, and I’ll do the rest.”

  Thomas twisted his head to look up at his aunt, one eyebrow raised. “She’s doing the cooking?”

  His aunt chuckled, swiping at him. “You don’t have to look so pleased about that.”

  Thomas couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head at her. “It depends whether she’s any good, I suppose.”

  “Oh, she’s good all right,” his aunt replied firmly. “Just you wait and see.” She patted him on the shoulder and got to her feet, standing on the porch for a moment longer, looking out over the bare fields. “And she wants to help you out here when she’s got the time.”

  Something shifted in Thomas’ gut. “I don’t need no help.”

  “Yes, you do,” his aunt replied firmly. “I know you do, and don’t go pretending that you can manage this all on your own. I’ve been helping you where I can, but I’m getting on a bit and it takes me twice as long to do things.” She saw him about to respond but shook her head, a small smile on her face. “Don’t take it badly, Thomas, but Grace will be a better help for you than I can ever be. I’ll be taking on the rest of the chores in the house, and she’ll just be fixing the meals and helping you out here.”

  Doubts swirled in Thomas’ mind. There was a great deal to do, that was for sure, but the last thing he wanted to do was to ask someone he barely knew to help him in the fields. He didn’t want to push her beyond what she was able to do, especially when she was going to be doing the cooking for them all. “I don’t know, Aunt Mary. She seems awful willing to help, and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

  Mary smiled, her eyes twinkling. “And you won’t, Thomas. Together, you’ll figure each other out, and I’ll make sure Grace knows to tell you if she’s needing to rest for a bit.” She chuckled and patted his arm. “Maybe she’ll get you to rest a bit more, too! You’re looking more and more like a string bean every day.”

  Thomas chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I’m lean, Aunt Mary. Always have been.”

  “There’s lean…and then there’s downright skin and bones,” she replied wryly. “Maybe Grace’s cooking will help put some meat on you.” Walking to the door, she pulled it open, and Thomas caught it, holding it for her. “Come on, it smells about ready.”

  Thomas sniffed appreciatively, his stomach rumbling already. The aroma was better than
anything that had come from this kitchen before, and his mouth had already begun to water. Was that beef? With gravy? He hoped so, a broad smile spreading across his face as he stepped inside and saw the table already neatly laid for three.

  “It’s about time to eat,” Grace called, as they walked in. “Just sit down and I’ll put the plates on the table.” She turned her head, catching his eye for a moment. “Nice to see you again, Thomas.”

  “And you,” he replied, making to doff his hat—only to realize he’d left it outside. His hand flailed in the air for a moment, and he dropped it behind his back, distinctly embarrassed. “This sure smells appetizing, Grace.”

  She looked back at him, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand as a few loose tendrils of her brown hair curled around her forehead. “I hope it tastes good, too.” Nodding towards the table to encourage him to sit, she gave him a quick smile before turning back to the stove.

  “Sit,” Mary muttered, waiting for him to take his place.

  They didn’t stand on ceremony here, although Thomas was glad of the cloth napkins laid out on the table for each of them. He didn’t want to splatter gravy all over his chin like some kind of imbecile.

  Surprised that such a thing wouldn’t have mattered before that moment. Most likely, he’d just have wiped his chin with his sleeve and washed his shirt later. Thomas tried not to acknowledge the warmth curling through his heart, as Grace set out a plate in front of him, glancing up into her eyes for a moment.

  “This is wonderful, Grace,” Mary exclaimed, as Grace sat down. “You are a wonderful cook!”

  Grace blushed and smiled. “It’s just beef with drippings, potatoes, and corn,” she said quietly. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

  “It’s already to my liking,” Thomas replied, his stomach growling loudly. “Shall I ask the blessing?”

  He spoke the prayer out loud, thanking God silently for Grace’s presence in his aunt’s home. His Aunt Mary was always bright and cheerful, but there was a softness in her eyes whenever she looked at Grace that made Thomas glad. It was clear his aunt had been very lonely for some time, and now, it finally seemed that she wasn’t going to experience that any longer.