A Mail-Order Christmas Bride

by Livia J. Washburn

  A MAIL-ORDER CHRISTMAS BRIDE

  LIVIA J. WASHBURN—KISSING UNTIL CHRISTMAS

  Shawn Killian and his young son Wes came to Briar Hill, Texas, looking to escape their past. The last thing Shawn wanted to complicate his life was a mail-order bride. But because of some mysterious mix-up, that's what he found himself having to deal with when Abby Demarest showed up. Shawn knows the smart thing to do would be to send her back where she came from, but that would have been easier to do if she wasn't so smart, pretty, and determined. What Shawn doesn't know is that Abby has some secrets of her own that threaten the life he has planned for him and Wes, and it may be that love is the only thing that will save all of them!

  KATHLEEN RICE ADAMS—A LONG WAY FROM ST. LOUIS

  Cast out by St. Louis society when her husband leaves her for another, Elizabeth Adair goes west to marry a wealthy Texas rancher. Burning with anger over the deceit of a groom who is neither wealthy nor Texan, she refuses to wed and ends up on the backstreets of Fort Worth.

  Ten years after Elizabeth’s father ran him out of St. Louis, Brendan Sheppard’s memory still sizzles with the rich man’s contempt. Riffraff. Alley trash. Son of an Irish drunkard. Yet, desire for a beautiful, unattainable girl continues to blaze in his heart.

  When the debutante and the ne’er-do-well collide A LONG WAY FROM ST. LOUIS, they’ll either douse an old flame…or forge a new love.

  PATTI SHERRY-CREWS—STORE-BOUGHT ORNAMENTS

  When Caleb sees Ella step off the train, it is love at first sight. Only, Caleb is not the groom Ella has traveled halfway across the country to marry. Caleb is a quiet man who always tries to do the right thing, so when he and his brother’s wife give into temptation, he leaves the family ranch for good. Only a cryptic letter from Ella asking him to come home to Montana for Christmas can bring him back.

  Seeing signs the woman he loves is being mistreated and the broken beauty of her STORE-BOUGHT ORNAMENTS triggers a series of dark memories to surface, steeling him for action. Can Caleb stand up to the brother who has bullied him his whole life in order to save Ella?

  TANYA HANSON—HER HOLIDAY HUSBAND

  Now a respectable rancher, the outlaw formerly known as Black Ankles doubts any decent woman would wed him…hence, a mail-order bride set up by his well-meaning brother arrives, believing her wedding will soon take place. Indeed, Ronnie Heisler’s whole family expects him to speak vows with an unknown woman come Christmas Eve.

  Set up by her meddling sister, Phoebe Pierce has fallen in love with the tintype of her intended’s twin brother. But has she too many secrets of her own to keep HER HOLIDAY HUSBAND?

  JESSE J ELLIOT—TIMELESS

  In a powerful earthquake, Annie Mills is hurled backward into her great-great aunt Sarah’s time and place. She discovers she is linked with her ancestor by her love of nineteenth-century history and literature, and a passion for research. She shares enough similarities with her long-ago aunt to enable her to adjust to her new time.

  Annie struggles to adjust to a different century, a new family, and her burgeoning emotions for the handsome town doctor, Drystan Thomas. But Drystan is waiting for his soon-to-arrive mail-order bride as he fights feelings of his own for Annie.

  Will Annie find the TIMELESS love of her life?

  MEG MIMS—HOLIDAY HOAX

  Widow Vera Sanders agrees to “switch” grooms with younger and prettier Adele MacIntyre, another mail-order bride heading to Holliday, Nebraska. They’re both in for rude surprises, however, after trying to pull a HOLIDAY HOAX on two very different grooms before Christmas. Will they ruin their chances for happiness, or end up in love?

  JACQUIE ROGERS—I HEARD THE BRIDES ON CHRISTMAS DAY

  The Murdock brothers have a fine ranch in Owyhee County, Idaho. The only things missing are wives and kids, so Hec orders a couple of brides for Christmas. The catch is, woman-shy Zeke doesn't know about it. Dinah and Stella have a plan— If the grooms don’t work out, they’ll start a restaurant. Farm chores are hard enough, but a peckish chicken and a raging blizzard don’t help matters. Can Hec and Zeke capture their hearts?

  CHERYL PIERSON—A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE

  Beautiful heiress Melanie duBois is running for her life—halfway across the continent. Marriage to a man she’s never met is preferable to what her stepfather has planned for her. Thank goodness for the mail-order bride offer she received from a handsome officer of the law—even if he is in wild Indian Territory.

  Lawman Rocky Taylor is expecting a “surprise” to arrive on the stagecoach, never dreaming it will be a young woman. She’s here as his mail-order bride, she says— Trouble is, he never sent for her, and he’s sworn off women after a disastrous first marriage.

  With her stepfather’s man hot on her trail, Melanie vows she’ll not return to West Virginia to a monstrous fate. Can A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE keep her safe, and open the door to love?

  A MAIL-ORDER CHRISTMAS BRIDE

  Livia J. Washburn

  Kathleen Rice Adams

  Patti Sherry-Crews

  Tanya Hanson

  Jesse J Elliot

  Meg Mims

  Jacquie Rogers

  Cheryl Pierson

  A Mail-Order Christmas Bride

  Copyright© 2015 Prairie Rose Publications

  Cover Design Livia Reasoner

  Prairie Rose Publications

  www.prairierosepublications.com

  All rights reserved.

  Kissing Until Christmas copyright© 2015 Livia J. Washburn

  A Long Way From St. Louis copyright© 2015 Kathleen Rice Adams

  Store-Bought Ornaments copyright© 2015 Patti Sherry-Crews

  Her Holiday Husband copyright© 2015 Tanya Hanson

  Timeless copyright© 2015 Jesse J Elliot

  Holiday Hoax copyright© 2015 Meg Mims

  I Heard the Brides on Christmas Day copyright© 2015 Jacquie Rogers

  A Marriage of Convenience copyright© 2015 Cheryl Pierson

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Kissing Until Christmas by Livia J. Washburn

  A Long Way From St. Louis by Kathleen Rice Adams

  Store-Bought Ornaments by Patti Sherry-Crews

  Her Holiday Husband by Tanya Hanson

  Timeless by Jesse J Elliot

  A Holiday Hoax by Meg Mims

  I Heard the Brides on Christmas Day by Jacquie Rogers

  A Marriage of Convenience by Cheryl Pierson

  Kissing Until Christmas

  Livia J. Washburn

  A mail-order mix-up, a hidden past, and a crazy goose make Christmas anything but peaceful.

  Chapter 1

  Abby Demarest reached out to brace herself as the stagecoach hit a particularly deep rut and jolted heavily to the side.

  That lurch threw the older man in the tweed suit and derby hat against her, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to straighten up on the hard, rearward-facing bench seat. Abby had him pegged as a whiskey drummer, and from the smell of his breath as he leaned on her, he was in the habit of sampling his own product.

  The older lady on the other seat reached across with the parasol she hel
d and prodded the drummer in the shoulder with its tip.

  “Sit up!” she told him sternly.

  “Sorry,” the man muttered to Abby as he followed the elderly woman’s order.

  “That’s all right,” she told him, although she was relieved to have him move away from her.

  Abby had been on stagecoaches before, but never one traveling through such rugged country as this. The canvas curtains were pulled shut over the windows to keep out as much of the dust and the cold December air as possible, but the rough terrain was visible through the gaps around the curtains. This part of Texas was rich in rocks, cactus, and scrubby trees, but not much else other than cattle. Enough hardy grass grew to support longhorns, but it took quite a bit of grazing land for each head of stock.

  Of course, if there was anything else West Texas had in abundance, it was open land.

  Abby had been on the stage since San Antonio. The drummer and the elderly lady had both gotten on at Uvalde. The woman was on her way to visit her daughter in El Paso, she had volunteered. It was such a long trip she only made it once a year, if that.

  The drummer didn’t talk much. Abby didn’t know if he was surly or just half-drunk, and she didn’t care.

  When the older woman had hinted around for information, Abby had said, “I’m going to a settlement called Briar Hill.”

  “Oh? Do you have relatives there, dear?”

  “Not exactly,” Abby had replied, and she’d left it there despite her traveling companion’s obvious curiosity.

  According to what the stagecoach driver had said at the last way station where they had changed teams, Briar Hill would be their next stop. Abby was glad to hear that. It had been a long journey, and she was glad it was almost over.

  Of course, what was waiting for her there was more than a little daunting, too...

  A few minutes later, the coach began to slow down. Abby leaned closer to the window and pulled the curtain back to get a better view. That blew both dust and cold air in her face and made her flinch, but she kept looking and saw that they were passing a small hill covered with a thicket of briar vines. That had to be what had given the place its name.

  The coach swept down a gentle slope into the settlement, which consisted of a broad street of hard-packed dirt that ran for several blocks between a double row of businesses. The buildings were a mixture of frame and adobe. Abby didn’t see any made out of brick.

  The residences were on the cross streets. Most of them were adobe, since there weren’t a lot of trees out here and the ones that grew wouldn’t make good lumber. Boards would have to be freighted in, probably from San Antonio.

  The stagecoach came to a stop in front of a small adobe office building with a barn next to it. DOUBLE EAGLE STAGECOACH LINE was painted in gilt letters on the office window, with a drawing of an eagle, also in gilt, on either side of the words. Abby knew that a double eagle was a twenty-dollar gold piece, but it appeared the owners of the stage line took the term more literally.

  The driver leaned over on his seat and called through the coach windows, “Stoppin’ at Briar Hill, folks! Briar Hill!”

  The drummer reached for the handle of the door on his side of the coach, twisted it, swung the door back, and climbed out, only to walk away without offering to help either of the women still inside the coach.

  A stringy, middle-aged man in shirtsleeves came out of the office and stepped over to the coach. He leaned in through the open door and said, “Let me give you ladies a hand.”

  The older woman got out first. She told the man, “I’m going on to El Paso, but it’s good to get up and move around a little.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he told her. Then he turned back to the coach to help Abby, and his eyes widened a little as he looked up at her.

  She knew that was because she was attractive with her glossy dark hair and her naturally red lips and her easy smile. She gave him one of those smiles now as she let him take hold of her gloved left hand and steady her as she stepped down from the coach.

  “Thank you,” she said, “Mister...?”

  “Hamling, ma’am. Clark Hamling. I manage the Briar Hill office for the stage line. Are you getting off here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll have Chuck—he’s my hostler—be sure and get your bags out of the boot, then. What brings you to Briar Hill, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I’m looking for a man named Shawn Killian,” Abby said.

  The friendly look vanished from Hamling’s face. He pursed his lips slightly, as if he’d suddenly gotten a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Do you know Mr. Killian?” Abby went on.

  “I’ve met the man,” Hamling answered. “Can’t say as I really know him. I don’t think anybody around here does. To say that he keeps to himself would be putting it mildly. Only person he associates with is that boy of his. Whenever he comes into town to buy supplies, he doesn’t say half a dozen words to anybody.”

  “But he does have a ranch near here, doesn’t he?”

  Hamling nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am, about five miles north of town. Nice little spread, from what I hear. But not from him, you understand. I’m not sure he’s ever spoken to me.”

  That was a little intimidating, Abby thought. But she was sure that when she introduced herself to Shawn Killian, things would be different.

  “Is there somewhere around here I could rent a buggy to drive out to Mr. Killian’s ranch?” she asked.

  Hamling looked confused. He said, “Do you know the fella, ma’am? If he’s a friend of yours, or kin, I didn’t mean to talk out of turn...”

  “I’ve never met him,” Abby answered honestly.

  “Well, in that case...”

  “The buggy?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to rent a buggy,” Hamling told her, shaking his head. “Killian’s over at the general store.” He pointed diagonally across the street toward a big building with a high loading dock in front. Next to it was a saloon, according to the sign on the front. “I saw him go in there just a little while ago, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t come out. You’re lucky. You caught him on a day when he’s in town.”

  “Really? That is lucky,” Abby said, although she wasn’t sure if it was or not. She had been counting on using the drive out to Shawn Killian’s ranch to work herself up to what was coming next.

  But on the other hand, there was seldom a point in postponing things, and this was what she was here for, after all.

  “Thank you,” she went on. “Will it be all right if I leave my bags in your office for a little while? All I have is a carpetbag and a small valise.”

  “Sure. Chuck, come here.”

  Hamling waved over the man who was unhitching the team in preparation for hitching up a new one. Abby showed him which bags were hers, and he carried them into the stage line office.

  Then she turned and started toward the general store where she would find the man who was the reason she was here.

  The cold wind whipped her skirts around her legs as she walked. She lowered her head against it, then looked up again as she heard several strident shouts.

  A frown creased her forehead as she saw a group of children on the loading dock in front of the general store. They should have been in school at this time of day, she thought. But maybe school wasn’t in session right now, since it was pretty close to Christmas.

  The youngsters were all boys. Five of them, Abby counted quickly. They weren’t exactly playing together, though. Four of them stood in a half-circle around the fifth boy, jumping at him, yelling, and making swatting motions at him as they forced him backward. The fifth boy was smaller than his tormentors, but even though he retreated, he did it grudgingly, Abby saw, with a look more of anger than fear on his face.

  One of the swiping hands hit his hat and knocked it off, revealing a thatch of reddish-brown hair. The others laughed at him. One of them grabbed the fallen hat and sailed it into the street.

  The hat came toward Abby,
and without thinking she reached up and caught it. Realizing that the bigger boys were about to force the smaller one to fall off the loading dock, she tightened her grip on the hat and increased her pace. She went up the steps in a hurry.

  “You boys!” Her voice rang out commandingly. “Stop that!”

  The bullies abruptly fell silent as they looked around to see who had given that order. At first they looked a bit startled and frightened, as most children would when accosted by an adult.

  Then one of them laughed, and the others followed suit. They were ten or twelve years old and big for their age, and Abby supposed they didn’t think they had anything to fear from a slight young woman who wasn’t much bigger than they were.

  “Stay outta this, lady,” one of them said. “This little brat’s got it comin’.”

  “I didn’t do anything to you,” the smaller boy protested.

  “Nobody likes you,” another boy put in with a vicious sneer on his face. “My ma says you’re an odd duck, and so’s your pa.”

  That was all Abby could take. She strode toward them. The boy who had just issued that insult barely had time to say, “Hey, what—” before she swatted him with the hat.

  “Get out of here!” she snapped, her voice as sharp as if she’d been trying to shoo away a bunch of wild dogs. That was just about what these little ruffians were, she thought—wild dogs.

  A couple of the boys yelled in alarm as she waded into them, slapping right and left with the hat. They all turned and ran, unwilling to stand up to her sudden fury.

  When they were gone, Abby stood there for a moment breathing deeply and collecting herself. She hated injustice and bullies, and sometimes her temper got away from her.

  But she had a sweet smile on her face again as she turned to the smaller boy, held the hat out to him, and said, “Here. I believe this is yours.”