Mail Order Bride: Ultimate Mail Order Bride Collection: 6-Book Bundle ~ Clean Historical Romance (Shades of Romance Series)

by Jill Maguire

  The two walked hand in hand to the barn as the remnants of their burnt lunch swirled in the air around them. Philip glanced over his shoulder and hoped Nora was alright. He chuckled to himself again and realized that even in her misery, Nora still managed to make Annie happy. Maybe she was worth having around after all – even if she couldn’t bake fresh bread.

  Chapter Seven

  Nora spent the remainder of the afternoon in the loft. She pouted mostly, and penned a letter to Clara, blasting the old woman for lying about her domestic (or lack of) abilities. How dare she lie? How was that supposed to help her make a new life for herself? Now she had made a fool of herself in front of her intended groom and wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he wanted out of their arrangement.

  She rummaged through her bag, pulling out her small Bible. She thumbed through the well-loved pages until she found Thomas’ picture wedged safely amongst the thin sheets. His handsome smile greeted her and almost instantly she felt more at peace.

  “Thomas my dear, I feel I must tell you something,” Nora said to the picture, hoping Philip and Annie were out of earshot. “This marriage…..or arrangement rather, is just that -- an arrangement, a way for me to survive without you. I could certainly never love another.”

  As she finished her thought, the ladder leading to the loft creaked under someone’s weight. Philip cleared his throat and asked if he could enter.

  “Yes, Mr. Cohen. That is fine,” she answered, slipping Thomas’ picture back inside her Bible.

  Philip Cohen hunched as he entered the loft, the sloping pitch of the a-frame roof was far too low for him to stand. He didn’t make eye contact with Nora at first -- he kept his eyes lowered on his soiled wool socks like they would give him the courage he needed to speak.

  Nora decided to help him end his misery. “Don’t worry Mr. Cohen. I am fully aware that you are disappointed by my lack of experience in the kitchen and…..if you feel this abolishes our contract, then I have no choice but to abide by your wishes. If you see fit to drive me to the station tomorrow, I will return home,” Nora paused slightly. “Or at least I will return to the East.”

  “Why not return to your home?” Philip asked curiously.

  “It’s a long story but suffice to say I don’t exactly have a home any longer.” Nora placed her Bible on the small wooden table beside Annie’s bed. “But I don’t say that for your pity Mr. Cohen. I am perfectly able to find somewhere to live upon my return.”

  “I don’t doubt that. You seem like a very strong woman.”

  Nora narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide if his comment was sincere or laced with sarcasm. “That is what you came up here for isn’t it? To ask me if we can end this silly charade?”

  Philip did it again, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. Ugh. Smug, arrogant man.

  “No ma’am. I came up to see if you’d be interested in joining Annie and me for dinner. Unlike you…..or myself, Annie is a darn good cook and she’s fixin’ something special for you.”

  Nora was totally caught off guard. She fully expected Philip Cohen to be angry about her misadventure in the kitchen. The cabin still reeked of smoke and it would probably take days to wash the burnt smell from their clothes and blankets.

  “I’m not very hungry. I think I’ll just read for a spell.”

  “Suit yourself,” Philip shrugged and turned his back to Nora. As he stepped down onto the first rung of the ladder, he realized he had one more thing to say to Nora. “I guess neither one of us was terribly honest with each other. I didn’t tell you about Annie, and you didn’t tell me you were the world’s worst cook. I think we’re even,” he winked.

  Once she heard Philip reach the bottom of the ladder, it was her turn to nibble the inside of her cheek to prevent a smile. He was absolutely right; she was indeed the world’s worst cook.

  ****

  Annie crept to the loft, her hair freshly washed and still dripping down the back of her cotton nightgown.

  “Now child,” Nora squawked at the sight of her. “You’re going to catch the death of cold if you don’t dry your hair and get it into a braid before bed.”

  “Will you help me Nora? My Ma used to braid my hair after my bath.”

  It was the first time Nora had heard the little girl mention her mother and the sadness in her voice was almost tangible.

  “Sit down here in front of me,” Nora told the child, patting the edge of Annie’s tiny bed. Annie did as she was told and handed Nora a small comb. She sat as still as a statue while Nora stroked and brushed her blond waves.

  “You must miss your Ma,” Nora said gently.

  Annie tucked her chin to her chest, “Yes ma’am,” she nodded. And with the naïve innocence of a child, Annie continued to tell Nora all about the fire and how her Ma had rushed out to the barn to save Ernest the horse. “Pa was late getting home that night so he wasn’t here to save her.”

  Nora heard the girl sniffle and struggled to find the right words to console her. She had no experience with children, and certainly could not comprehend a child having to deal with the same grief she herself had not yet overcome. Nora did the only thing she knew – the only thing that came naturally to her -- she began to sing.

  Nora sang softly as she brushed the child’s golden locks and twisted it into a loose braid. Some of the verses came out as words and some simply melted into a rhythmic hum, either way, Nora’s voice seemed to calm the child and she eventually laid her head gently in Nora’s lap.

  “You sing like an angel,” Annie tiredly murmured. “Will you sing me to sleep tonight?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Nora helped the child into her makeshift bed on the floor and pulled the light cotton sheet up under her chin. The girl nuzzled her cheek into her pillow and closed her eyes. Before Nora continued her song, she opened the window a slight crack to allow the warm night breeze to fill the room. “Fresh air always makes for a good night’s sleep,” she told the child. “And I just love the sound of the wind, the crickets and the grasshoppers. Don’t you?”

  But Annie was already asleep. Nora smirked at the peaceful child and gently brushed a stray hair from her plump cheek. Then she quietly continued to sing. It was as much to soothe her own heart as it was Annie’s.

  Chapter Eight

  Philip finished washing up the last of the dinner dishes and put them away on the shelf above the sink. He hoped this was the final time he would be the one tending to the kitchen. After all, that’s what his new bride was supposed to be for. He grunted and chuckled as he thought about how filthy Nora’s face and dress were when she came running from the cabin. A sight for sore eyes indeed, but somehow still beautiful.

  He struck a match and lit the lantern sitting atop the mantle. The wick flickered to life, casting an amber glow over the golden pine walls of the cabin. He could hear Nora and Annie in the loft, a combination of soft whispers and faint laughter. He hadn’t heard sounds like that in a very long time.

  Philip slowly pulled the front door open and tried to quietly escape to the porch. The hinges creaked slightly, making Philip cringe and wait for Annie’s curious inquiry. Ever since her mother died, she was reluctant to be left alone – even for a few moments. But her small worried face didn’t appear at the railing of the loft. Instead, he heard his daughter ask Nora to help braid her hair.

  The small porch chair that Philip had made out of wood scraps from the Mill beckoned him to sit and enjoy the sounds of summer. He would have loved to sit and watch the night roll in, but first he needed to check in on the animals to make sure they had enough food and water.

  As he walked to the barn, the swirling wind spattered dirt and gravel against his cheek. Philip pulled the collar of his jacket up over his face and lowered his chin to protect himself. He fiddled with the latch on the barn as the wind propelled him inside.

  “Might be a storm brewin’,” he said, with only the animals there to hear him. “You fella’s better h
unker down for the night.” Ernest huffed at his suggestion and stomped his heavy front hoof. Philip checked on Sasha and the chickens before locking the barn door and returning to the cabin.

  The wind had licked out the lantern on his way back, leaving Philip with only a tiny beam of light from the loft to illuminate his way. He glanced up and caught his breath at the sight of Nora standing in the window, gently pushing the pane open. She looked angelic in her white nightgown, her frilly cap only covering part of her long reddish curls. Philip quickly forced his eyes to the ground. Staring at a woman in her night garments was horribly inappropriate – even if she was to be his bride.

  Philip prided himself on being a true gentleman but somewhere between seeing Nora in the window and staring at the hole in the toe of his boot, he felt his heart flutter for the first time in years. Uncontrollably, his eyes secretly stole another peek at Nora before she turned away from the window and disappeared back into the loft.

  Philip hopped up on the porch and grinned at the empty wooden chair still awaiting his arrival. “Just for a minute or two,” he whispered, knowing Annie and Nora were happy and safe in the loft. He watched the wind whip the dirt into tiny funnel clouds and tumble over the ground. Definitely a storm brewing, he thought.

  Softly, he heard the sound of a woman’s voice coming from the window above. Nora.

  Philip couldn’t make out the song she was singing, but her voice was as pure as the summer rain. He slipped back comfortably in his chair, crossed his ankles and rested his head. He closed his eyes and listened. The woman couldn’t cook a lick but she sure could sing, and Philip sat quietly enjoying every note.

  ****

  Before long Philip had fallen asleep, serenaded by Nora’s voice and the wild rustle of the wind. His hat had tipped forward, redirecting his warm breath back against his face and muffling the throaty growl of his snoring. But his peaceful slumber was short lived. It was only moments before the heart wrenching cry of his daughter echoed through the night.

  Another nightmare.

  Philip snapped his hat from his head and stood up so quickly he felt dizzy. He tripped into the cabin, stumbling over Annie’s boots by the door. He raced to the rickety ladder and pulled himself to the top, completely skipping the final rung.

  In his haste to be at his daughter’s side, Philip completely forgot to ask Nora for her permission to enter the loft and arrived rather abruptly at her bedside. To his surprise, Nora didn’t appear shocked or angry by his arrival, but rather she seemed worried, almost frightened herself. She sat clinging to Annie, the child’s face buried in her chest.

  “Shhhhh……” Nora whispered. “Everything is alright, I’m here and your Pa is here. It was only a dream.”

  The child’s screams turned to soft whimpers as Nora began to hum the same song she had sung to Annie earlier that evening. She rocked Annie back and forth as the wind howled through the open window.

  Philip didn’t say a word to either of them. He tiptoed to the window, closed it tightly and smiled sweetly at Nora on the way by. It was rather odd, he thought to himself, but he felt completely comfortable (and somewhat relieved) letting Nora soothe his daughter back to sleep.

  Before he turned to leave the loft, he gave Annie’s hand a gentle squeeze just to let her know he was there and mouthed the words thank you to Nora.

  When Philip returned to the main floor of the cabin he was met with the sound of banging on the front porch. Assuming the wind had ripped something loose he carelessly yanked the door open and stepped outside to inspect the damage.

  The eyes were the first thing Philip saw, the golden glare of a predator on the prowl. Philip froze, realizing he was standing a mere six inches from a lone black, snarling wolf. Philip panicked and jumped back instinctively as the wolf lunged toward him, sinking its razor sharp teeth into Philip’s lower leg.

  Philip hollered for Nora, trying to quickly comprehend that she was the only person nearby who could help him. His fate was suddenly in the hands of a young gorgeous woman from the city who would have no idea how to save his life.

  “Nora, grab my gun!”

  The terror in Philip’s voice echoed through the tiny cabin and as the wolf bit and tore through the cloth of his trousers, all he could think about was Annie. If Nora wasn’t brave enough to kill the ferocious beast, his daughter may be left an orphan. He wrapped his fingers around the frame of the door, refusing to let the wolf drag him outside and desperately called for Nora again.

  Chapter Nine

  Nora and Annie heard Philip’s frantic cries and whipped down the rungs as fast as they could. Annie screamed, horrified at the sight of the wolf ripping at her father’s leg, its gnashing teeth surrounded by foam.

  Annie heard her father yelling for Nora to get his gun and pointed to the corner beside the fireplace. Nora snatched the rifle from its spot next to the mantle and stomped toward the beast. She raised the gun to her shoulder, squinted down the barrel and aimed precisely at the animal’s heart. With a single blast, the wolf yelped and fell helplessly to the ground. It convulsed and twitched a few times and died before their eyes.

  “Pa!” Annie yelled and fell to her father’s side. “Oh Pa, your leg,” she cried, horrified by the blood soaking through his pant leg.

  “Annie, grab me some clean towels from the kitchen and put the kettle on the wood stove,” Nora instructed. “We need boiling water quickly.”

  But Annie was too scared to move. Nora spun the child to face her and gave Annie the instructions again. “Annie? Listen to me. Your Pa needs help but I can’t do it alone. You have to be brave and do what I ask. Okay?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Annie sniffled, her lips pursed together in a frown.

  “Good girl, now boil some water and get me as many clean towels as you can find. Hurry!”

  Annie dashed to the kitchen and Nora turned her attention to Philip. She crouched next to his head and scooped her hands under his arms, dragging him back inside the cabin. Nora could tell he was trying to conceal his pain as she slid him across the floor, but he couldn’t help but groan in agony.

  Nora propped Philip up against the wall next to the fireplace and tore off the bottom half of his pant leg. The fabric was thick with blood and shredded from the wolf’s bite. Nora peered at the wound and sighed, thankful that Philip’s leg didn’t look as bad as she expected.

  “Only superficial wounds,” she told him. “We’ll clean you up and wrap it in towels for the night. But you must see a doctor first thing in the morning.”

  As Nora tended to Philip’s leg, Annie sat holding her father’s hand, her head lovingly pressed to his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re alright Pa. I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

  “Now you listen here young lady. It would take a lot more than a ratty ‘ol wolf to do me in.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  “Especially when Nora is such a good shot,” Philip chuckled. “How’d you learn to shoot a gun like that anyway? I’m sure you didn’t have too many wolves bangin’ down your door in the city.”

  Nora didn’t answer. She just told him to stay still while she cleaned his wounds.

  “Annie,” Philip whispered. “You best be gettin’ back to bed now.”

  “I want to sleep here with you Pa.”

  Philip knew there was no way Annie would be leaving his side tonight. Her nightmares about the fire were bad enough, but add a wolf attack and there was no way she’d be sleeping alone tonight.

  “Well then, we best get to bed. I don’t think sleeping here on the floor, propped up against this wall will be very comfortable for either of us.” He nudged his daughter’s head gently from his shoulder and tried to pull himself up. Nora saw him grimace as the pain shot up his leg but he put on a brave face for his daughter.

  “Let me help you,” Nora offered, slipping her hand behind Philip’s back and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He smelled of sweat and dust, but she liked how it felt to have his arms around h
er -- even if he was a dirty farmer from the prairie.

  Nora helped Philip hobble to his room and gently guided him down onto the bed. She fixed the pillows behind his head as Annie nuzzled in next to her father. Philip kissed the child on top of her head and told her to get some sleep.

  “Thank you Nora,” Philip said with awkwardness in his voice. “I guess you saved my life.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Nora dismissed. “That wolf was no bigger than a dog. I’m sure you would have fought him off on your own if I hadn’t been here.” Nora dragged the rocking chair from the corner of the room closer to the side of the bed. “You don’t mind if I keep an eye on you for a few hours? If those wounds are infected, you may begin to run a fever through the night.”

  “Now you’re the one being silly,” Philip scoffed. “I’m fine. You should get some sleep.”

  “Mr. Cohen, it is in my best interest to make sure you are fit and healthy. I don’t intend to be a widow for a second time.” Nora stopped, angry with herself for saying too much.

  Philip looked surprisingly at Nora. She refused to make eye contact and kept her chin lowered. It was the first time she had admitted anything about her past and it was obvious she preferred to keep it that way.

  Philip gave Annie a gentle squeeze and realized his daughter had already drifted off to sleep. He slid his arm out from behind her and gently placed the youngster’s head on the pillow next to him. Annie groaned sweetly and curled into a tiny ball, her hands folded peacefully under her chin.

  “Hopefully no more nightmares,” Philip sighed as he watched Annie sleep.

  Nora glanced tenderly at Annie. “Does she suffer from them often?”

  “Almost every night since the fire. Doc says she just needs more time.”

  “Poor, sweet girl. No child should have to deal with the grief of losing their mother.”

  Philip swept Annie’s hair from her face and pulled the soft flannel sheet over her legs. Even in the heat of summer, Philip found his daughter’s tiny bare feet were always cool to the touch. “No, they certainly shouldn’t,” he agreed. “Nor should a woman have to deal with the loss of her husband.” He was prying, he knew it, but he needed to know more about the woman he intended to marry.