The Wrong Bride_A Christmas Mail Order Bride Romance

by Natalie Dean

  He blinked at her for a moment as though not daring to believe what he’d heard. Then, with a loud, joyful laugh, he rushed towards Bernadette and picked her up in his arms. The world began to tilt as he spun her twice around.

  It was the most emotion she had ever seen from Matt. And it was so infectious that she could not help but laugh with him.

  Finally, they stopped spinning, but he continued to hold her close for several seconds. Bernadette could feel his strong arms moving across her waist once more, and the shiver down her spine returned.

  He pulled away just slightly and looked into her eyes.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “This never would have happened without you.”

  She began to say that it was nothing or give him a word of thanks in return. But, when she looked at his blue eyes staring straight into hers, the words disappeared in her throat.

  Suddenly her eyes darted down towards his lips and, once more she had the urge to kiss him.

  Then, forgetting all the etiquette her mother had taught her, forgetting that a well-bred lady never takes the lead in these sorts of situations, she moved forward and pressed her lips to his.

  The kiss was slow, soft, and gentle. Exactly as she had imagined it would be.

  Just as the kiss deepened, just as Matt began to wrap his arms around her, a sharp, cold laugh sounded from behind her, causing her to jump.

  “I assume congratulations are in order.”

  The couple turned to see Mr. Miles, a humorless smile on his face, leaning against the barn door behind which they had hidden.

  “I take it you were able to get the rings forged in town?”

  “Yes, I was,” Bernadette said. She tried to make her voice as strong as possible though, once more, she wasn’t sure that she’d exactly managed it.

  “And, judging by the…welcome you were given…” he sneered at the two as though their simple kiss had been much more lecherous than it was. “You were able to get something else done in town as well.”

  Bernadette straightened her shoulders and, for the first time since they’d met felt stronger than Mr. Miles gave her credit for.

  “Now that you ask,” she said evenly. “Yes, I was able to get a great deal done in town. I even made a stop at the bank to inquire about the loan you were helping Matt get for that small farm. As it turns out, they’re ready for him to sign the deed. They asked if he could come by tomorrow to go over it.”

  “So, I’ll need some time off if you can spare me,” Matt put in. His face was still slightly flushed with embarrassment when looking at his boss. But, Bernadette noticed that Matt’s blue eyes did not dart to the ground as they usually did when he was faced with Mr. Miles.

  Mr. Miles’ eyes hardened, and his smile turned into a sneer for half a moment. The moment passed however, and his smile brightened again as though he’d just remembered one more ace he had up his sleeve.

  “I might be able to accommodate that Matt,” he said. “But, before I agree, I’d like to talk to you alone for one moment. If you’ll step into my office.”

  “Is that necessary, Mr. Miles?” he asked. “I do have a lot of work to do.”

  “It can wait,” Mr. Miles said with more than a hint of impatience. “I need to speak to you about something rather…sensitive.”

  “And you don’t feel as though you can tell me in front of my fiancé?” Matt asked. Bernadette felt a small thrill rush through her when Matt put his arm around her shoulders pulling her slightly to him.

  “I would rather not,” Mr. Miles said. “As I told you, it is rather sensitive.”

  “Would it, by any chance, have to do with the child Bernadette is carrying?”

  Matt asked the question casually, as though it was of no real importance. But, the expression on Mr. Miles’ face made it look as though he had fallen head first into a dung heap. His jaw went slack, and his face turned much paler than she had ever seen it.

  Quickly he coughed and turned his head away as though to hide his distress. When he looked back up at them, his face was still slightly pale, but his usual smirk was returned to its place. Almost as though it had been painted on.

  “So, your bride finally explained the full extent of her condition to you,” he said.

  “Of course,” Matt answered. “Bernadette told me last night. She had every intention of revealing her condition before the wedding. She was only waiting for the right moment to tell me.”

  Mr. Miles’ smile faltered once more, and this time, he did not force it back on. The effect made him look much less appealing than normal. His dark eyes glared at both of them.

  “And I take it that you are satisfied with these circumstances, Matt?” Mr. Miles asked. Though he addressed the question to her fiancé, his eyes were fixed on Bernadette. For a moment, he looked truly dangerous. Bernadette felt another shiver run through her.

  It abated when Matt pulled her closer to him and stepped forward, essentially blocking her body with his.

  “Yes,” Matt answered. “You could say that I’m very satisfied with the circumstances.”

  Miles pursed his lips together and nodded tersely.

  “Well then, my congratulations,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Matt answered. “And I also wanted to thank you for the loan you helped us secure. I’m sure your influence with the bank was a great help.”

  Mr. Miles blinked twice as though confused. He looked from Matt to Bernadette before placing the false, slimy smile back on his face.

  “Always glad to be of service,” he said finally. And, with a slight nod to them, he retreated to the house without so much as a backward glance.

  “You could have been much harsher with him, you know?” Bernadette said once the ranch owner had retreated towards the horizon.

  “I know,” Matt answered. “But, in this place, it doesn’t do to burn your bridges. There are so few people that it's best to be on good terms with as many as you can.”

  “I suppose I can understand that,” Bernadette said turning back to her fiancé. Matt placed his arms around her waist and looked down at her, his eyes sparkling with a joy she so rarely saw from him.

  “Besides,” he said. “After the wedding, we’ll never have to set foot on this ranch again. We’ll have our own farm. Our own life.”

  A thrill rushed through her at that thought. Her own life. Even the child inside her seemed to leap with joy.

  Finding no words to answer him, she simply reached up and pulled Matt towards her pressing her lips against his once more.

  As she did, the sense of calm came over her again. The same emotion she had felt in her room in Pennsylvania when she had prayed for the first time.

  She knew now just how true those words she had spoken to Pastor Rhodes really were.

  Matt Jacobs was the answer to her prayers. In more ways than one.

  Chapter 10

  “Oh, that bonnet suits you beautifully,” Mrs. Matthews said hurriedly as Bernadette examined herself in the full mirror. Her dark blond hair fell in ringlets around her ears beneath a sky-blue bonnet that matched the color of her dress.

  She smiled as her stomach lurched and she realized that she could not be sure whether that was the child or pre-wedding nerves.

  “I do hope the bump is not too noticeable,” she said smoothing the skirt down over her stomach which now seemed to be growing each day.

  “I would not concern myself too much with that,” Mrs. Matthews said. “Everyone in town knows you came by your condition honorably. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Bernadette tried to smile but, it was hampered by a nervous flutter in her chest. Even though, as Mrs. Matthews claimed, the child in her stomach was legitimate, she couldn’t help but feel a bit strange walking down the aisle in such a manner.

  Mrs. Matthews seemed to recognize the bride’s distress and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Besides,” Mrs. Matthews said. “It is not the opinion of the town that should matter. Your young man is t
he only one you should be thinking about today. And I know Mr. Jacobs is beyond excited to begin a family with you.”

  To Bernadette’s surprise, this did put her at ease. It also caused her smile to widen even more than it already was.

  It took less than five minutes more for Bernadette to finish dressing. Before she knew it, she was standing at the end of the little town chapel walking down the aisle towards Matt.

  He was dressed in his best Sunday clothes which were, by all accounts, very simple. Still, the smile he wore, the one that caused his blue eyes to sparkle made him seem more finely dressed than any of the wealthy suitors she had ever known.

  The ceremony passed in a haze. So much so that, later, Bernadette would hardly remember repeating the vows that Pastor Rhodes had said before her.

  Before long, the Pastor’s gentle, tenor voice had reached the end of the service.

  “You may now kiss the Bride,” he said.

  Turning to Matt who gave her a truly elated smile, the two of them shared a gentle kiss at the altar.

  When she pulled away, his face brightened, and that adorable pink tinge came into his cheeks when the minister pronounced them husband and wife.

  As soon as that was done, he grabbed Bernadette’s hand and pulled her down the aisle at such a quick pace that she could not help but laugh.

  There a small wagon with one horse, the only one they would take to their little farm, was waiting for them. As quickly as he could, he helped her up into the wagon and, with barely a wave of acknowledgment to the small crowd gathered to see them off, they started down the rocky road towards their newly purchased farm.

  “That was quite a quick exit, Mr. Jacobs,” she observed.

  “Mrs. Matthews told me that it would be a good few hours before the reception would be ready,” he told her in explanation. “And, I did not want to spend that time making small talk with half the town.”

  “How did you wish to spend that time?” Bernadette asked cheekily even as her cheeks burned in anticipation of the answer.

  He smiled down at her.

  “I think you know, Mrs. Jacobs.”

  She let out a giggle as they pulled up to the small farmhouse that was now wholly and entirely theirs.

  Matt pulled the horse to a stop and jumped down from the wagon. He moved to Bernadette’s side and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her down as well.

  He looked at her for only a moment before moving his blue eyes down to her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his and placed it on her growing abdomen.

  “Just think,” he said. “Only a few months more and we will be a true family.”

  Another shiver of pleasure rushed through her as Matt leaned forward and placed his lips gently on hers. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the child leap in her stomach.

  She said another silent prayer. This one of thanks.

  At last, she was right where she belonged.

  THE END

  The Big Beautiful Bride Heads West

  By Grace Weston

  Book Description

  THE BIG BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HEADS WEST

  Brides of Laramie Book 2

  A Western Romance Short Story

  Lizzie is excited to meet her groom-to-be until she finds out he is how old?!

  Lizzie is no stranger to hardships in life. She has suffered through the miscarriage of her baby, the loss of her beloved husband and brother-in-law to the Civil War, and her treasured sister-in-law leaving her to travel out West. Now, with the bank taking her boarding house business and nowhere to go, she is wondering why God has forsaken her. But when her sister-in-law out West writes a letter suggesting that she may have found a suitable husband for Lizzie, she begins to think that just maybe...there's a better life waiting for her.

  Little does Lizzie know that Billy Peters, her soon to be husband, is not the businessman Bernadette made him out to be. Aside from being much less realistic than the tough, no-nonsense Lizzie, he's also several years younger. Lizzie is convinced that she could never saddle a young, vibrant man like Billy with an old barren widow like herself.

  Can Billy and sweet horse with a desolate future change her mind? Will the curse finally be broken or will Lizzie's own stubborn resolve not to be a burden be her ultimate undoing?

  Find out more about this heartwarming story of love and loss...

  Chapter 1

  Lizzie Dixon was cursed.

  There was simply no other explanation.

  For some strange, inexplicable reason, the world had seen fit to curse her. And, despite her prayers, despite all her attempt to do good, despite her desperation, the curse persisted.

  Lizzie first knew this when, months after she married George Dixon, just one month after she had become pregnant with his child, she miscarried.

  As further proof of her curse, when she went to the physician after the child in her womb had died, he told her that she could not expect to have any more children at all.

  Soon after that, she had lost George to the war. The same war that eventually took her brother-in-law and the closest thing she had left.

  Also, her sister-in-law had left as well. After her husband died, Bernadette had sought a new life with another man out West. And, with her departure, the only true friend Lizzie had was gone.

  Now, the curse had seen fit to take the last thing she had left.

  The curse was taking the boarding house, the business which had been her life’s work for nearly a decade, away from her.

  She looked on as the bankers, men in dark suits and bowler hats, casually inspected the home she had built, largely on her own.

  They ran their pudgy hands over the stove she’d used to make breakfast for the families staying at her boarding house. Pursed their lips as they picked up the iron tea kettle, worn from overuse.

  When Lizzie looked at that little kettle, she couldn’t help but remember the nights she’d stayed up with one of the girls staying in her rooms. She remembered putting that kettle on while some poor war widow or frightened, single young girl cried at the kitchen table, wondering what she was going to do now that she had nowhere to go.

  Now, it was Lizzie who silently asked that same question.

  She wouldn’t cry.

  She had not cried since her husband had died in the war several years before.

  There had been many occasions for crying since George had died, of course.

  During the war, food became scarce. Increasingly poor, single young women came flocking to her boarding house bringing unimaginable tales of suffering with them.

  But, through all these, she did not shed a tear.

  Not even when her brother-in-law, Frank, perished in one of the great war’s final battles; not even when she sat on the bed comforting Bernadette, her then pregnant and widowed sister-in-law, did tears form in her eyes.

  Sometimes, she wondered if she was even capable of crying anymore.

  Perhaps, after George’s death, all her tears simply dried up.

  Still, as these well dressed, official men stomped through her boarding house, she realized that this was the first time since her husband’s death that she had been on the verge of tears.

  She bit her lip as she followed them through their inspection of the rest of the house. She watched as they examined her furniture, stomped their fancy shoes over her carefully laid wooden floors and talked amongst themselves about the business potential of her home.

  Finally, the largest and most blustering of the three men, Mr. Lawrence, stepped forward. He had a clipped gray mustache, a soft, pudgy face and white hands that told Lizzie he had not seen a hard day’s work in his entire life.

  “Well, Mrs. Dixon,” he said finally facing Lizzie and straightening himself up importantly. “After inspection of the property, the bank would be willing to buy back your home and forgive your debt. Provided, of course, that you find other accommodations.”

  Mr. Lawrence said this as though he was doing Lizzie some great favor. As though the bank
would stand to take a loss by buying back the house. Lizzie knew this was far from the case.

  “And how long will the bank give me to find other such…accommodations?” Lizzie asked. Trying to keep a sharp, sarcastic tone out of her voice.

  Mr. Lawrence looked back at the other men as though asking their approval to speak.

  “We would be willing to allow you to continue on at the house for…four to six months,” he said. “After that, we will begin to make other uses for the property.”

  Lizzie swallowed hard and, once again, tried as best she could to keep a sharp retort from her lips.

  It was difficult. Especially when the men before her looked at her as though she were a burden they would have to bear. As though they were doing her some great favor by allowing her to stay on at all.

  Instead of saying what was truly on her mind, Lizzie just nodded.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” she said as gently as she could. “For being so accommodating.”

  “It is no trouble at all,” Mr. Lawrence said, sounding more than a bit pleased with his own generosity. “After all, in these troubled times, the bank feels a great sense of responsibility to war widows in particular.”

  This time, it took all the effort she possessed not to tell them just what she thought of their brand of care.

  Once again, she swallowed her words and put on a smile that she did not feel in her heart at all.

  “Well, then, Gentlemen,” she said. “If you’ve finished your inspection, I hope you’ll leave me to make my arrangements.”

  “Of course, Ma’am,” Mr. Lawrence said with a bow.

  Each of the other two bankers bowed in turn before seeing themselves out the front door, all the while discussing where they might meet for lunch.

  As she closed the door, Lizzie found herself half wishing that she could feel as at ease about this arrangement as they seemed to.

  As it was, she had no stomach for lunch, even though she had hardly eaten a thing all day.