A Mother For His Family

by Susanne Dietze

  Perhaps in time, God might work out healing between Helena’s parents. For now, however, Papa was growing in knowledge about God, and he’d begun praying for his wife. Mama was not yet ready to reconcile with him or Helena, though, and remained in London with the girls.

  Helena would keep praying.

  Her gaze returned to her husband. “The school will be wonderful, I’m sure of it. I’m sure of two other things, too.”

  “And those are?”

  “I’m happy. You took a broken, spattered girl who fell in a ha-ha and helped her become someone new.”

  “I hauled you out of the ha-ha, true. But you and God did the rest. You helped me, too, you know.” His eyes warmed, deep in hue as the green coat he wore. “And the other?”

  “You were right. I think today is the day to tell the children our big news.”

  His exuberant grin made him look so much like Alex and Callum that Helena laughed.

  “Everyone,” he called. “Hurry here.”

  Papa’s brows knit. “What’s the matter?”

  Margaret held Louisa’s hand while they jogged toward them. “You’re red, Uncle John. Is it the heat?”

  Louisa tugged free and cuddled Helena, patting Helena’s midsection. “It’s a brother.”

  They were all quiet for an instant. Then the noise began again.

  “Or a sister,” Helena clarified. “In February.”

  “How could you know such a thing?” John scooped up Louisa. “How do you know where babies live before they are born? Never mind.”

  “A baby?” Callum’s mouth twisted like he’d eaten an unripe berry.

  “A baby,” Alex marveled.

  Papa nodded, a pleased turn to his lips. Iona barked.

  Margaret—the poor orphan relation who’d viewed Helena with scorn for so long—held back. “Do I get to hold him?”

  “Of course. He is your brother. Or sister. He or she will look up to you and love you.” Helena wrapped her arms about Margaret, who returned her embrace and started to cry. Helena patted Margaret’s back. “The baby is ours. All of ours.” She could tell Margaret understood. They did not require blood to be a true family.

  Then the boys were in her arms, and everyone touched everyone else. After a minute, Callum waved his arms. “Nine pins. Are we playing or not?”

  “Playing,” Helena answered. “Me, too.”

  “I suppose I shall have a hand in it, as well,” Papa said. “I have not played since I was Louisa’s age.”

  Alex whooped. Louisa followed his example, and Iona started barking in earnest.

  “We will be the loudest family in Perthshire.” John sighed. “Our neighbors will complain of the noise.”

  “Can you hear us, Perthshire?” Callum shouted. Their laughter echoed off the stones of the house.

  After her turn, John touched Helena’s arm. Just a discreet touch, with the promise of more to come. “A year ago, you needed a home. I needed a mother for my family. God gave us so much more.”

  “A family. A husband and a baby. My father again. And more love than I know what to do with.”

  Which is why, she supposed, they had a lifetime to share it.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MONTANA GROOM OF CONVENIENCE by Linda Ford.

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  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for choosing A Mother for His Family! When I decided to write about a woman who’d survived a terrible ordeal, I knew I wanted her to experience Jesus and His healing, and to see herself in His eyes for the first time. I also wanted her to find a life of joy and fulfilment with a man of faith who found himself challenged to grow in the Lord and as a family man as a result of their relationship. I’ve been eager to write a marriage of convenience story with a nursery full of children, and some of my favorite scenes to write included Margaret, Alex, Callum and Louisa. I hope you enjoyed reading about Helena, John and the children as they forged a family and found a happily-ever-after.

  If Gemma and Tavin seem familiar, you may have met them in The Reluctant Guardian when they had their own adventures! Like Helena and John, they learned that while we humans often make plans, God’s plans are often better than we can hope for or imagine, and He has great things in store for all of us when we follow Him.

  One last thing: in 1793, the Edinburgh Asylum for the Relief of the Indigent and Industrious Blind became the world’s third establishment dedicated to the welfare of the blind. I fictionalized it for my story, but I truly appreciated learning about the efforts of its founders. I’m also grateful to the folks who helped me with the character of Louisa, especially Laurie Alice Eakes and Kathleen Fuller. However, any errors in the book, in this or any area, are mine alone.

  I love hearing from readers, and if you’d like to say hello, please drop by my website, www.susannedietze.com, or my Facebook page, SusanneDietzeBooks.

  May the Lord bless you and keep you!

  Susanne

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  Montana Groom of Convenience

  by Linda Ford

  Chapter One

  Bella Creek, Montana, 1891

  They were dead! His plan had been to deliver his eight-year-old half sister, Jill, to her mother’s cousin and her husband in Bella Creek. The local sheriff’s explanation that the couple had passed away several months ago had brought a stop to that idea.

  Twenty-three-year-old Sawyer Gallagher stared at Jill as she devoured her breakfast. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls, nor what they needed. He didn’t even have a home. For years, he had wandered from place to place. Now what was he supposed to do with his little sister? He couldn’t take her with him on a cattle drive or even if he got a job as a ranch hand. That sort of life wasn’t suitable for a young girl.

  As he pondered his problem and how to solve it, the words of the conversation at a nearby table reached him.

  “He’s going to sell the ranch.”

  Sawyer angled his head to study the woman who spoke with such feeling. He couldn’t say if she expressed anger or pain. His position gave him a view of the woman’s profile. She leaned toward her friend, strands of straw blond hair drifting about her face. The rest was in a loose braid hanging down her back. She wore a dark blue print dress.

  His gaze went downward and he grinned at the sight of a sturdy pair of cowboy boots peeking out from under her skirts. Both the boots and hem of her dress were caked with mud.

  He returned his attention
to the pair at the table. Her companion was also blonde though much darker. And much neater.

  “No! You can’t reason with him?”

  “You do realize we’re talking about my father—the most stubborn Scotsman I’ve ever encountered.”

  Her friend chuckled. “I dare say he’s the only one you’ve ever encountered.”

  The girl shuddered. “Don’t care to meet another.” She leaned closer to her companion. “Do you know what he told me? That I need a man to run the ranch now that he’s been injured. Doc says his leg won’t mend properly. Says he will never be able to use it like he used to. He can’t ride anymore. Can’t walk behind the plow. Can’t drive Big Harry.” With each item on the list, the gal’s voice grew more sorrowful and her shoulders sank.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But, Carly, he’s never allowed you to work with the Clydesdale.”

  She sat up straight. “I could.” Her shoulders sank again. “But he forbids me to do so. Says it takes a man.”

  Amusement sparkled from the second woman. “So you’re out to find a man?”

  Carly, as her friend called her, jerked forward. Her jaw jutted out. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I said I would hire someone but Father says only marriage will ensure stability so I need to find someone to marry.” Her gaze circled the room, momentarily rested on Sawyer, lowered to Jill across from him and returned to her companion.

  Sawyer’s breath whooshed out. He had the feeling he’d just escaped disaster.

  “You’d marry to save the ranch?”

  Sawyer shared the speaker’s astonishment.

  “Indeed, I would. Too bad your brothers are already married. You don’t happen to have some male, unmarried cousins I haven’t heard of?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking.”

  “It’s not like I’m expecting love and romance. I only want a man to sign a piece of paper and pretend to be my husband.”

  “Carly Morrison! Dismiss this notion at once. It’s folly. Better to pray God changes your father’s mind.”

  “Might as well ask for the mountains to disappear.” Miss Morrison sank back.

  “There’s always Billy Cameron.” The woman laughed.

  Carly shuddered. “Please, I’m not that desperate. You can smell the man coming a mile away. I’ve been with Father to visit him. The man never washes his dishes. Just lets his dog lick them clean. Yuck.”

  “Glad to hear you aren’t that desperate.” Her companion rose. “I must go. I’m going to ask Hugh to pray for you.”

  “So long as you both pray I’ll find a husband.” She scowled. “Father has given me two weeks to do so.”

  “That doesn’t even give you time to find a mail-order husband.” The friend pulled on her gloves. “I’m sorry but it doesn’t sound very hopeful, does it?”

  “There must be someone.” Miss Morrison brightened. “I just have to find him.”

  Her friend left, shaking her head.

  Sawyer shifted so he could see the woman still sitting at the table. Youngish, maybe twenty though that was but a guess. He wasn’t able to judge a woman’s age. She was pretty enough from what he could see. He’d been mildly surprised to see her brown eyes...unusual in someone with such fair hair. She was a little on the small size. He supposed, like most places in the west, there were a dozen men to every woman. So why wasn’t she already married? Instead, she was desperately looking for a husband.

  He was desperately seeking a home for Jill.

  His mind clicked like a tightly wound watch.

  Jill burped loudly and he made up his mind.

  “Jill, stay here while I speak to that lady.” Taking her compliance for granted, though compliance and cooperation had been sadly lacking from the beginning of this journey, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.

  * * *

  Carly planted her elbows on the table and buried her face in her palms. Father could be so unreasonable. Two weeks to find a husband! That was impossible. Besides, she didn’t want a husband. But she did want the ranch. She’d been mostly running it for several years now, though Father had steadfastly refused to let her handle Big Harry, insisting the plow horse was too much animal for a bitty thing like her.

  The chair across the table scraped on the floor and someone sat down. Carly jerked up, expecting Annie had returned, perhaps having recalled an unmarried cousin. Instead she stared at a stranger.

  Wasn’t this the man who had been seated at the next table? She darted a glance out of the corner of her eyes. Yes, the little girl sat alone, watching Carly and the man.

  “Excuse me,” Carly said, returning her attention to the stranger. “This is my table.”

  He didn’t pay any heed to her hint that he should leave. Didn’t even address her comment. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.”

  How dare he listen to her painful discussion with Annie? “Didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to eavesdrop?”

  He lifted one shoulder dismissively. “She might have if she hadn’t died when I was seven.”

  “I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry.” Wasn’t Father always telling her she was far too free with her comments? Given that he wasn’t opposed to speaking his mind, he could hardly expect otherwise.

  The man across from her dipped his head in acknowledgment. “It would seem you have a problem.”

  She gave no indication that she understood what he meant, her insides burning to think someone had overheard her conversation with Annie.

  “I also have a problem.” His gaze went to the little girl.

  Carly’s eyes went the same direction.

  The untidy little girl scowled at them, then turned away, swiped her plate with her dirty fingers and sucked the bacon fat from them. She gave them a look of pure challenge that brought a fleeting smile to Carly’s mouth. It was a look she herself had honed over the years. For all the good it did her in the end. Father told her he didn’t care how much fire she shot from her eyes, there were certain things he would not let a daughter of his do. Remembering that brought her thoughts back to her quandary.

  Carly could see the child might be a problem but didn’t see how it involved her. She didn’t have time to deal with a child. She had to find a husband.

  “That’s my little sister, Jill. She’s eight and her parents are dead.”

  “Poor little girl.” Carly studied the child more closely. She had light brown hair that hadn’t seen a brush in days. Brown eyes that challenged everyone and everything they encountered. A trail-dusty brown dress. Scuffed shoes that were swinging back and forth. Her heart went to the child. She must feel very alone. At least she had a brother.

  How often Carly wished she had a sibling, preferably a brother or two or more.

  The man continued, “I thought to turn her over to her second cousin but I just learned the cousin and her husband died last summer.”

  “Poor child.” She revised her earlier assumption. It sounded very much like the little girl had no one who cared about her despite the brother sitting across from Carly. Jill, he’d said, shifted her gaze to Carly’s and Carly glimpsed the child’s pain and fear before the little one turned away and began dragging the fork over the tabletop, scratching the worn surface.

  Dorie, sister to the owner of Miss Daisy’s Eatery, hustled over and gathered up the used dishes and cutlery, taking the fork and leaving only a glass of water in front of Jill.

  Carly realized the man opposite her waited her attention.

  “I find myself needing a home for Jill.”

  Carly wished him well with his search but she didn’t have time to discuss the matter. Nor anyone she cared to suggest who might offer the child a home. She had to find a man willing to marry her.

  Though she had her doubts that she’d meet with any man’s approval. She had the ranch to offer as
enticement even though she hated to use it that way. Hadn’t she long ago promised herself that in order for a man to marry her, he’d have to care for her...not the ranch?

  Bart Connelly had made her see how important that was. He courted her ardently. She’d admired his interest in everything to do with the ranch operation. Her admiration had cooled considerably after he let her see his real reason for the courtship. He told her he intended to have his own ranch some day and he didn’t mean to wait until he’d saved up enough from his wages. That would take far too long. Nope. There was more than one way to get started.

  Didn’t take Carly long to realize she was his shortcut. She might have been agreeable to a partnership but then he started to tell her how to do things. Started telling her to run along and get prettied up for him. She finally told him he should run along and get himself prettied up.

  After that, she refused his company. Let him find someone else to marry in order to get his ranch.

  Seems most men expected she’d change for them, get prettied up and let them order her about. She soon stopped bothering with them. But now, here she was needing to marry someone. Bart was long gone, which was a mercy. She shuddered at the thought of giving in to his demands.

  She pushed her chair back. She didn’t have time to listen to the man’s woes. She had to save the ranch. “I’m sorry about your plight but I don’t know what I can do to help.”

  “You can marry me.”

  She sat down with a thud and opened her mouth but not a word came out. She stared. Blinked. Blinked again. Closed her eyes and told herself she was in a bad dream but when she opened her eyes, the man still sat there, watching, waiting.

  She found her voice, though it sounded a bit rusty. “Marry you? You’re a stranger. I don’t even know your name. I don’t know anything about you.”

  “Name’s Sawyer Gallagher. I’m twenty-three. Been on my own since I was fourteen. Been working on ranches or riding herd on a trail ride. That’s about it.”