Reluctant Brides Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  He frowned. “The Bible is clear about the legacy a father leaves.”

  “True, it was…in the Old Testament. In the New Testament, Christ made a new covenant. God claims us as His children by grace. Any of our works and deeds are simply to be an offering of thanks and a help to one another. Your father’s sins were his, Carter; God looks on your soul and knows your heart. He’d never punish you for your father’s deeds.”

  “I’m not blameless.”

  “None of us are. None of us gets what we deserve. If we did, we’d all be doomed. Instead, we are saved by grace.”

  “Of course we are.”

  “I don’t mean to judge you, but I wonder if you’ve given Him your soul, but not your heart.”

  He gave her a baffled look. “What do you mean?”

  Isabel drew in a bracing breath as she prayed for the Lord to use her. Carter hadn’t cut her off so far—in fact, he was pursuing the conversation. Had the Holy Spirit been preparing his heart for this very conversation?

  Carter reached up and gently tugged her hood a bit closer about her. “Isabel, I told you, you could say anything you wanted to.”

  “Christ paid the price already, Carter. Nothing you do will add to His sacrifice.”

  “I know that. I’ve accepted Christ, Isabel.”

  “When you accepted Him, God forgave all. From the things you say, I get the feeling you claim the pardon from sin; but walking with Him can be so much more than that—it is receiving the Father’s love and consolation.”

  Carter grimaced and let his hands drop to his sides. “My own father was harsh. Thinking of God as my Father brings to mind reproof, not compassion.”

  “Maybe it’s time for you to leave the past behind.” Isabel grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “Stop letting yesterday be an anchor that causes you pain and regret. You accepted His pardon; I’d love to see you experience His peace.”

  Sunday passed. Though the others all reported to the mill on Monday, Isabel went to the Steadmans’ home. For the next three evenings, Carter walked her back to the boardinghouse. Each time, he offered his arm so she wouldn’t slip on the icy ground; but as they neared the boardinghouse, he took care to keep his hands clasped behind his back so he’d not give anyone cause to tease Isabel or cast aspersions on her character.

  That restraint cost him dearly. He’d far rather hold her hand or wrap his arm about her shoulders. The most he allowed himself was to help her with her hood—it allowed him a fleeting opportunity to feel the softness of her luxurious hair. Yielding to his attraction would put them both in an impossible position, so he governed his actions.

  Each evening, they spoke more openly about a number of things. He asked about her family and she heard about his years in England. They spoke about the mill and the orphanage, but she never again brought up spiritual matters. Carter felt grateful she left him to ponder those matters on his own. Intensely personal as they were, he needed time to contemplate what she’d said and meditate over what the Bible revealed.

  Now as he walked her back to the boardinghouse, he quietly said, “I need to go out of town for a few days. I worry about Mother being alone, and she enjoys your companionship. Are you going to the orphanage after church on Sunday?”

  “Yes.”

  Carter waited for a moment, but because she made no offer, he forged ahead. “Why don’t you invite her to go with you?”

  Isabel gave him a startled look. “Sir, that isn’t done.”

  “Isabel, you and she get along so well. Because she’s in mourning, she isn’t socializing except for church-related events. She’d be glad to have an opportunity to get out.”

  “But I’m just a mill girl.”

  Carter shook his head and tilted her face up to his. “How can you be so wise about forgiveness, yet you ignore all the verses about us all being equal in God’s sight?”

  “Even if I got beyond that, others wouldn’t. Your mother is a fine lady. The women in her social circle are far above—”

  “You underestimate your worth,” he growled. Tempted to dip his head and brand her with a kiss, Carter denied himself. Instead, he gruffly took her arm and quickened his pace to the boardinghouse. When he returned home from this trip, he was going to set Miss Isabel Shaw straight.

  Fired? Isabel couldn’t believe her ears. She tilted her head to the side and faintly said, “I beg your pardon?”

  Mr. Jefford leaned forward in the chair and set his beefy hands on top of Mr. Steadman’s desk. He’d called her in to the office, and she’d wondered what he was up to. He snarled, “You heard me, all right. I told you to pack your belongings and be out of the boardinghouse by supper.”

  “But why?” His leer gave her the shivers.

  “You knew the rules when you signed on. We demand our women be of the highest moral quality. It’s come to my attention you’re keeping company with a gentleman late in the evenings. Brazen hussies taint the good name of—”

  “Mr. Jefford!”

  He waved his hand. “I won’t hear another word. All you’d do is lie. Pack and leave by supper. Now go. I have work to do.”

  Isabel wiped away hot tears, but more trailed down her cheeks. Her vision blurred as she folded her new plaid dress and put it into the portmanteau on top of her Sunday-best, cabbage rose dress. Last, she put in the bundle of letters from home. The gold ribbon mocked her. She couldn’t even keep her job—how would she ever keep a man?

  “Isabel, I can’t believe this.” Kathleen stormed back and forth.

  “Oh, believe it,” Grace sneered. “She reached too high. Thought she was better than the rest of us, going over to the owner’s house. He skulked away and had the overseer do the dirty work of discharging her.”

  “Hush,” Pegeen hissed at her. “Isabel’s a good woman. You have no call to be mean to her.”

  “This is wrong.” Kathleen spun around and shook her head. “Wait until Mr. Steadman gets back.”

  “I c–can’t. Mr. Jefford told me I had to be gone by supper.”

  “Then go to Mrs. Steadman!”

  Isabel shook her head. The very notion that Mrs. Steadman might hear such scurrilous accusations mortified her. The woman had such a tender heart, she’d probably blame herself. “Even if things were settled, Mr. Jefford would make my life a nightmare.”

  “You’re one of the best weavers. What about somewhere else?”

  Isabel hitched her shoulder. “Mr. Jefford dismissed me without a certificate of honorable discharge. No other mill will take me on.” She didn’t add on the rest. No one would hire a woman reputed to be a mill owner’s cast-off mistress.

  “It’s been two and a half years since I saw Mama and my sisters. David, too. I’ll go home and see what work I can find there.”

  Her last possession was her Bible. Isabel held it to her bosom, then went across the room and somberly held the leather-bound book out to Pegeen. “You’ve learned to read this year. I want you to have this.”

  “Oh, no, Isabel. I—”

  “It would bring me comfort, knowing I’ve left it with you. Mama has a Bible I can share.”

  Once Pegeen accepted the Bible, Isabel pulled on her bonnet and the pelisse Mrs. Steadman had insisted she keep. Pride made her want to return it; common sense dictated she keep it and take her own cape home for Mama or her sisters to use.

  A week’s wages were knotted in her handkerchief. She couldn’t afford to spend the money for a coach ride back home. Luckily, one of the other girls was going home to take on a teaching position, so Isabel would ride in her wagon all but the last two miles.

  Isabel tried to muffle her sob. She lifted her portmanteau and whispered to Kathleen, “Write me. Tell me how the girls liked the dolls, and say good-bye to Amy for me.”

  Kathleen hugged her close. “God go with you.”

  Carter briskly strode into the weaving room just minutes before the day was to begin. While he’d been gone, he’d spent considerable time pondering Isabel’s comments about God’s
grace. After he’d prayed and felt released from the burden he carried, Carter rushed through the rest of his business so he could come share his joy. He made up his mind, and he didn’t believe in wasting his time. As soon as he spied Isabel, he…

  She wasn’t at her looms. Where was she? He scanned the area again. A new lass with hair the shade of untanned leather struggled to tie her apron about her ample waist. The wide-eyed way she gawked about made it clear she felt overwhelmed.

  Mary had begun to oil the loom before them, the whole time explaining in a patient tone what she was doing.

  To the other side, Kathleen looked up from preparing her own looms to glower at him.

  His heart gave a sudden jolt. He’d assumed Isabel hadn’t extended an invitation to his mother and had skipped church on Sunday because of her sensitivity to the difference in their social standing. Was she sick? He demanded hoarsely, “Where is Isabel?”

  “Gone home.” Mary’s eyes welled up with tears.

  “What?”

  Chapter 10

  You can’t be serious!” His mother quickly folded a few garments and shoved them into a black leather valise. “I hope you discharged Jefford at once.”

  Carter shoved his feet into riding boots. “I barely let him grab his coat and hat before I got rid of him. Maxwell delivered the cotton, and I laid out the orders for the next week late last evening. James Roland can oversee the mill, and Kathleen can keep charge of the weaving rooms for the next few days ’til I get back.”

  “With Isabel,” his mother tacked on.

  “With Isabel,” he confirmed in a definitive voice. He’d gotten her address from Kathleen, and he was about to go claim his woman.

  “Isabel?”

  “Yes?” Isabel sat on the mattress and plaited her sisters’ hair for bedtime. The threadbare flannel of their nightgowns made her heart twist. Over the past two and a half years, how many thousands of yards of cloth had she woven, yet her own little sisters went to sleep in thin-as-air gowns on a frigid night.

  “Do you s’pose Baby Jesus got poked by the hay in His manger?”

  She forced a laugh. “I don’t know.” After she tied a bit of string about the last braid, Isabel took her cape and spread it over the mattress. “This’ll keep the hay from jabbing you. Now hop in and we’ll say prayers.”

  The small cabin shook as the front door slammed. Abe probably just got back after checking the animals. He made a meager living by sharecropping, but he and Hannah had been good enough to take in Mama and the girls. Still, with him, Hannah, and their baby, that had been burden enough. Isabel knew there wasn’t room for her here—but she had nowhere else to turn.

  “Isabel, come down here.”

  She startled at the sound of Carter Steadman’s voice. Peering over the loft at him, she called, “What are you doing here?”

  He folded his arms akimbo. “Strange, but I was wondering the same thing about you. Come down, and bring your coat. We’re going outside to talk.”

  “It’s cold out there!”

  “Which is why I told you to bring your coat,” he said with excessive patience.

  “We can sit by the fire inside.”

  Isabel wasn’t sure if she heard his mutterings correctly. “Obtuse and stubborn” seemed to be mentioned, but whatever the rest of the words were, Hannah and Mama drowned them out with their muffled giggles. Abe looked entirely too entertained. Unwilling to provide more amusement for them, Isabel took the pelisse Carter’s mother had given to her and tucked it under her arm.

  Just as she started down the ladder, Carter growled, “Are you trying to break your neck? Drop that thing and use both hands.”

  All three of her sisters lined up by the loft rail and twittered.

  Isabel flung the piece so it hit him square in the chest, then scurried down before he could say another word. “Mr. Steadman—”

  “Carter,” he corrected as he spun her about and wrapped her tight. He then nodded his head toward Mama. “Mrs. Shaw, I presume.”

  “Indeed.” Mama smiled at him.

  “Ma’am, I intend to drag your daughter outside and talk some sense into her. Before I do, I’d best mind my manners and propriety enough to declare my intentions. I’m Carter Steadman, and I can provide well for her. I love her and aim to ask for her hand, so if you have any objections, now’s the time to speak up.”

  “Carter!” Isabel spluttered.

  He kept his hands clamped on her shoulders.

  Mama looked to Abe. Abe took a moment to take Carter’s measure, then asked, “Are you a God-fearing man?”

  “Aye, and a God-loving man, as well.”

  Abe nodded. Mama smiled, and all of the girls cheered.

  Carter swept Isabel straight off her feet and headed for the door. Hannah opened it and before she could catch her breath, Isabel found herself sitting on a crate in the barn.

  Carter knelt beside her. “Isabel, I already proclaimed my love for you back in the house. I can’t apologize, because though such tender words would best be said in private the first time, I’m willing to shout them to the world. A man can’t hope for a treasure better than a godly wife. I’m asking you to be my bride.”

  Isabel ducked her head in disgrace. “Mr. Steadman, you and I both know the gossip was untrue. You needn’t be gallant and do this to salvage my reputation.”

  “Jefford’s opinion holds no sway. Everyone who knows you knows better than to put any store by his accusations.”

  “Then you can see your noble proposal is unnecessary.”

  He gave her a tender look. “I think it’s essential.”

  Isabel wrapped her arms around herself. “Carter, we both know your propensity for trying to cover someone else’s wrongdoings with a good deed. I thought you’d grown beyond that. Proposing to me is—”

  “The most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I want you for my own. I want to come home to your gentle words and sweet laughter each night. We’ll give my mother a dozen beautiful grandbabies. Don’t you understand, Isabel? I couldn’t risk ruining your reputation, so my mother and I plotted a way to allow me to court you under proper, albeit contrived, circumstances.”

  “I can’t imagine this.”

  “You’d better. Before I left, I’d already asked Parson Hull about the best date for a wedding. You’re all I could ever hope for in a wife. Don’t you hold any feeling for me?”

  “Yes! But I’m just—”

  “Mine.” He kept her from saying another word by kissing her.

  They spent the next three days with her family. Carter rolled up his sleeves and worked alongside Abe on farm chores. He gave her little sisters piggyback rides and took Isabel out on a walk to choose a Christmas tree.

  David came home from his apprenticeship for Christmas. He and Carter bunked down in the barn loft. That first night, Isabel feared they’d be too cold. Hannah merely laughed. “How could you forget all of the quilts Mama made you sew?”

  “Mama—I wrote and told you to—”

  Mama wrapped her arm about Isabel’s waist. “I couldn’t sell them, Honey. See? I knew you’d need them.”

  Carter bedded down under three of those quilts that night and marveled that Isabel had worked so hard on such beautiful quilts, only to tell her mother to sell them off. The sacrifice staggered him. She reminded him of the widow in the Bible who tithed her last mite. Father, thank You for giving me such a wonderful, loving woman to be my wife.

  The next morning, he took Isabel for an early morning stroll. She kept her eyes on him, a fact that pleased him no end…until they came upon a specific tree. They paused, and Carter finally urged, “Sweetheart, turn your head to the right.”

  There, the special gold ribbon dangled from a branch. Tied to it was a ring. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh, Carter, I love you!” Isabel threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  A month and a half later, they kissed at the altar. The golden ribbon dangled from Isabel’s bridal bouquet. Her heart overf
lowed with joy. Carter had continued to do good deeds, but they came from the fullness of his heart instead of as an attempt to appease God’s wrath. His mother’s support eased Isabel’s entry into what might have seemed snobbish society—and a sweet young woman named Elizabeth Henly quite helpfully taught her how to dispose of the ofttimes undrinkable punches and teas in strategically placed potted plants.

  Kathleen caught the bridal bouquet, and as she and Mama helped Isabel change into her going-away gown, Kathleen returned the ribbon. “Someday, your own daughter will cherish it, too. Keep it for her as a symbol of how God fills our lives with love.”

  LIGHT BECKONS THE DAWN

  by Susannah Hayden

  Dedication

  For the people who have been beacons of God’s light in my life.

  Chapter 1

  Verdant, plush green gave way to the worn, well-trod trail. The meadow behind the lighthouse, speckled with rainbow-hued wildflowers, faded behind Joshua Wells as he nudged his sluggish gray mare toward the lumber camp. Although the miles between the lighthouse and the camp could be traversed in an hour by horseback, Josh felt as if he were moving across time, not mere landscape. As he left the lighthouse, he left more than sixty years of nineteenth-century heritage; as he neared the camp, he approached an unknown future that in less than two decades would take the northern Wisconsin peninsula into the twentieth century

  For eight long years Josh had missed the journey. At seventeen, he had announced to his older sister, Lacey, who was running the Wells household during their mother’s illness and father’s consequent depression, that he was leaving to go away to school. All along he had insisted that he would come back to the isolated locale where they had been raised in the shadow of a lonely lighthouse, but no one had believed him because few people who left ever did. Josh’s twenty-one-year-old twin brothers, Joel and Jeremiah, were nearly finished with college in Madison, and they were not coming back and no one had ever expected they would. But Joshua had always known that he would come back, no matter what anyone said. The lumber camp needed a doctor.