The Christmas Bride: Christian Western Historical (Window to the Heart Saga Spin-off Book 3)

by Jenna Brandt

  Setting her aside, he scrambled to his feet and reached out his hand. “I think we should head over to the pie-eating contest.”

  One of Lucy’s eyebrows arched as she gave him a knowing smile. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on him.

  After the pie-eating contest was over, most of the families with small children left. The couples danced near the band. Matthew guided Lucy into the center of the group as he gathered her into his arms. As they moved to the music, Lucy appeared anxious; her eyes turned downward. It was unlike her. She presented as cavalier but she always remained calm.

  “Is everything all right, Lucy?”

  “I have danced little. I hope I’m doing well at it.”

  “Rest assured; you’re a natural.”

  Her eyes darted up to his and her entrancing smile returned. He realized at that moment, he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face. This time he couldn’t keep from doing what he wanted to all day. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. The kiss sent electricity sparking between them. He felt like his entire body was on fire.

  Matthew heard the clink of the door opening, bringing him out of his reminiscing. He glanced over as Lucy exited through the front of the saloon with the key to The Trail’s End in hand. As she finished locking up, he said, “It’s wonderful to see you. I’ve missed you, Lucy.” He refused to call her by her nickname as all of her friends did. He liked her given name and insisted on calling her by it. What surprised him was she allowed it.

  “I’m doing well, Matthew. Sorry I took so long finishing up this evening. The Trail’s End was crowded.”

  “You know I would wait forever for you.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work with me. When will you stop trying?”

  “Probably never,” he stated with a shrug.

  “How was work today at the mill?”

  “Same as usual. The expansion has helped with productivity. The new men are learning how we do everything.”

  “You know, they’re able to understand because you are a great leader, Matthew. Mr. Moore made the right decision when he promoted you to a supervisor.”

  James Moore was a founding father of West Linn and the son of Major Robert Moore, one of the first pioneers of the Oregon Territory. James Moore helped rebuild the town after the original settlement was destroyed by the fire of 1860 and flood of 1861. He invested in restoring the town by opening a ferry company and a sawmill. His newest project was the Willamette Falls Locks. Matthew’s family, the McCoys, along with the Leclaires, were the other founding families.

  “How are the wedding plans coming?”

  She didn’t make eye contact as she dodged the probe. “How is the house coming?”

  “The house is finished. I told you they would have it finished by the time we got married.” After stopping Lucy, he pulled her around to face him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “It’s going as expected.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “I mean Amelie and your sister have been helpful with planning everything. . . ”

  Matthew could tell she was leaving something out. “But?”

  “I have been met with veiled hostility by a majority of the rest of the town. I think they don’t like the pastor’s son marrying my type.”

  “What do you mean by ‘your type?’” Matthew asked with a defensive tone.

  Preconceived ideas about Lucy had been an ongoing problem since he began courting her. It started with the women in town who wanted the chance to win his favor snubbing her at social events. Then it progressed to the church women after they became engaged. No one was outright rude to Lucy, but they made it clear they didn’t think she was good enough to be the fiancée of the pastor’s son.

  He felt her stiffen under his touch. “It’s obvious they think I’m a disreputable woman because I work at The Trail’s End.” She crossed her arms protectively. “It’s funny, they can forgive Amelie for working here, but they can’t give me the same grace.”

  Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I know who you are; you’re brave, kind, and loyal. I’m so glad you agreed to be my wife.”

  After a few moments of resting in his embrace, Lucy pulled away and walked towards the boarding house again.

  “I’m meeting with Amelie and Debbey at the bakery tomorrow to go over the details for the wedding.”

  “Whatever is left, they will help you figure it out.” Then with a snicker, he added, “After all, Debbey is an expert after planning both Amelie’s and her own wedding over the past couple of months.”

  As they reached the steps of the boarding house, Matthew stretched out his hand and grabbed Lucy’s arm. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?” he teased.

  With an arched eyebrow, she smirked. “Do you think I would ever leave you without one?”

  Leaning forward, she placed her hands on his chest and tilted her head up as his mouth came down to meet her own. A familiar warmth spread across Matthew, and he didn’t want the kiss to end. Reluctantly, he released her and watched as she sashayed up the steps, and into the building. He couldn’t wait until he made that woman his wife.

  Before Lucy could make it to the stairs leading to her room, Mrs. Tait, the boarding house owner and operator, stopped her with her scratchy voice. “Miss Rogers, I have a piece of mail for you. It’s post marked from New Orleans just like the previous one.”

  She froze to the spot where she stood. She thought the last letter she returned would have kept more from coming. What was she going to do?

  With dread in her heart, Lucy turned and walked over to the front desk. Not saying a word, she put out her hand. The plump Mrs. Tait placed the envelope in Lucy’s palm. “It’s from the same fellow as before, isn’t it?”

  Shocked at her candor, Lucy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How can you tell it’s from the same person?”

  “The handwriting. I got an eye for detail, and it looks just like the one you had me mark return to sender.” Mrs. Tait had a disapproving look on her face. “I still don’t like being involved in your deceptions, Miss Rogers.”

  Lucy stiffened at the rebuke. She wanted to defend herself. It had been Mrs. Tait’s idea in the first place; however, she didn’t want to upset the elderly woman. Instead, she opted to apply flattery. “I appreciate your help, Mrs. Tait. I cut ties with my past for a reason. I don’t want it catching up to me.”

  “Maybe you should tell your fiancé. Perhaps he could help you get this fellow off your back once and for all.”

  The idea was tempting, but Lucy didn’t want Matthew to know about her past. She liked the way he looked at her now. If he found out about her life in New Orleans, she worried he would never look at her the same way again. Worse, there was a real probability he would end their relationship. She loved him too much to take a chance by telling him.

  “I can handle this on my own, Mrs. Tait. Mark this letter the same as before, but this time, add a note I no longer reside here.”

  While she shook her head, Mrs. Tait mumbled under her breath about making wrong choices and the consequences. Lucy ignored the comment, tapping her fingers on the front counter as she waited for her to do her bidding.

  Begrudgingly, the woman set about the task. Once Lucy was satisfied, she went upstairs to her room, saying a silent prayer there wouldn’t be any new letters to follow.

  Chapter 2

  December 1870

  West Linn, Oregon

  America

  The Leclaire bakery and café was bustling with customers as Lucy walked into the newly constructed shop. She glanced around for her friend, Amelie, whom she found behind the counter. Amelie was serving Mrs. Wilcox, long-time widow and personal secretary to Mr. Moore.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wilcox. Have a wonderful day,” Amelie said as the older gray-haired woman took the box of pastries and left the bakery.

  Amelie smiled c
ausing her luminous blue eyes to light up as Lucy walked up to the counter. Lucy looked around hesitantly. “It’s busy in here. Do we need to reschedule our luncheon?”

  “You better not even think about it.” Lucy turned to the side and saw Matthew’s sister, Debbey Almonbury, coming to a stop next to her. Her green eyes were sparkling, and her curly red hair was pulled back in a clip.

  Amelie patted her hands on her apron and smoothed back her golden-brown hair, gesturing for them to follow her. “She’s right you know. I’ve been looking forward to our time together all week.”

  The three women walked from the bakery through the archway into the café next door. A corner table by the window had a small reserved sign on it. Amelie guided them over to it and all of them took seats around the table. A variety of pastries, jams, butter, and spreads were arranged elegantly on the table top along with a glass pitcher of sun tea.

  Amelie poured each of them a glass while Debbey pulled out a paper. Lucy peeked over at it causing a wry smile to form on her lips. Her friend had created a detailed list for the wedding with about half the items checked off. She stiffened, worried they wouldn’t be able to finish everything else in two weeks’ time.

  “Last time we met, we went over the menu and cake which Amelie and Louisa have volunteered to prepare. I talked with the West Linn orchestra and they agreed to play for the reception afterward. I also got four church members to help set up the chairs and tables the day before the wedding. We have the dresses for the bride and bridesmaids fitted and ready along with the suits for the men. That leaves us with the favors, flowers and the seating chart.”

  “Don’t worry about the seating arrangements. I would prefer just to let everyone sit where they would like.”

  Debbey’s eyebrows shot up as she shook her head. “It’s a wedding, Lulu. A seating chart is a must.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Lucy whispered as her eyes dropped to the glass she held in her hands.

  “It’s fine, Lulu," Amelie stated with a smile. "We got it covered. We have the list of all the wedding guests; however, I want to make sure you're positive you have no friends or family to invite from New Orleans?”

  Lucy’s eyes darted up and grew round with distress. “I thought I made it clear; I have no one.”

  With a nod, Amelie agreed. “All right, that settles that. Why don’t we plan to meet a night a week over the next two weeks to finish the remaining tasks?”

  Relief flooded over Lucy. She had left New Orleans and the people there for a reason.

  Sweat dripped from Matthew’s forehead as he worked alongside the men he supervised at the sawmill. One worker had called in sick and Matthew was picking up the slack to meet their quota for the day. He didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Moore.

  A loud thud followed by a howl of pain jerked Matthew’s head to the side. One of the new guys was on the ground, and was trying to push fallen logs from off of his legs to no avail. Matthew rushed to his side while yelling, “Mark, Wayne, come over here and help me get these off of him.”

  The men joined Matthew as he knelt beside the injured worker thrashing around and hollering in pain.

  “You need to stay calm, Paul, struggling only makes it worse,” Matthew asserted.

  The man stopped moving, but his fearful eyes remained fixed on Matthew. “You don’t think I will lose my legs, do you? I can’t work without my legs.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. They might only be broken which the doctor can handle.” Matthew turned his head and shouted over his shoulder, “Gregory, go fetch the doctor from in town. Once we get Paul free, he must be treated.”

  With care, Matthew inspected the four logs that were covering Paul’s body. There didn’t appear to be any open wounds, but Paul’s legs were crushed from the weight. He might not lose them, but at best, he would walk with a limp after he healed. Matthew hoped he wouldn’t become a cripple because of the accident.

  “Mark, Wayne, get on each end of this top log, and I will brace the middle as we lift.” Matthew was taller than the other men and had the reach needed to stabilize it. “On my count of three. One, two, three.”

  The men lifted the log off of Paul and moved on to the next one. After making short work of the first three, they positioned themselves to remove the last one. As they removed the final log, blood spurted from Paul’s left leg.

  The other two men looked on in shock while Matthew swiftly unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from his pants. He ordered, “One of you take off your shirt and press it against the wound.” Matthew bent down and wrapped his belt around Paul’s leg above the wound, then secured it in place. The combination did its job, and the bleeding subsided.

  “We need to get him inside the mill office. Mark, help me grab his legs, Wayne, you grab him from under the arms,” Matthew commanded.

  Once Paul was inside and laying on a table, Mr. Moore and Mrs. Wilcox came rushing into the room with worried looks on their faces.

  “I heard Paul got hurt. How is he?” Mr. Moore inquired with concern.

  Matthew shook his head as he looked at Paul who passed out from the pain. “He will live but his legs look awful. I wouldn’t be surprised if he loses one or both of them.”

  “Does he have a family?”

  With a sullen expression, Matthew nodded. “A wife and a new baby.”

  Mr. Moore gestured for Mrs. Wilcox to his side. “I want you to find his information in our records, then go inform his wife. Tell her we are taking care of him and the doctor was brought here to help her husband. Give her two weeks’ worth of income, and after speaking with her, pick up food and supplies and return with them.”

  Mrs. Wilcox bobbed her head up and down while her tight silver bun remained unmoving. “Certainly, Mr. Moore.” She turned and made her way to her boss's office to carry out his instructions.

  “How did this happen?”

  “One of the problems with expanding the mill so fast is that the new hires don’t always remember the steps to correct procedures,” Matthew explained. “It’s resulting in a record number of injuries.”

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  “I think we should lengthen the training time to avoid further incidents.”

  Mr. Moore’s brows furrowed together as he concentrated. After a few moments, he stated, “I agree. Next week, you need to meet with Mrs. Wilcox and help her add content to the training for new workers.” Patting him on the back, he added, “You’ve come a long way, Matthew, since I hired you straight out of school. I’m proud of how far you have come. You are excelling as the supervisor here at the mill.”

  A surge of pride coursed through Matthew. “Thank you, Mr. Moore. I owe how far I have come to your tutelage.”

  “Nonsense, my boy. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. After the doctor arrives, I want you and the men to take the rest of the day off. I will see you back at work on Monday.”

  Matthew nodded his head and turned his attention back to Paul. Sitting in a chair next to the man, he prayed in silence. Lord, I ask for your healing hand to be on Paul. I pray the damage to his legs isn’t extensive and that they will heal without permanent impairment. Help him with the pain and guide the doctor to do what is best when he gets here.

  A half-hour later, Doctor Lipston, a portly man with gray hair and glasses, walked into the office. He made his way over to where Paul lay on the table.

  “I’m sorry to be seeing you, Matthew, under these circumstances. Your man informed me what happened.” The doctor inspected Paul, then raised his eyes to meet Mathew’s gaze. “You did a superb job of stopping the bleeding. You not only saved his life, you most likely saved his leg. Both of them are broken but if I combine a splint with a plaster of Paris cast, he should recover enough to walk in time.”

  “Will I be able to work?” Both Doctor Lipston and Matthew jerked their heads towards Paul.

  “We won’t know for sure until you completely heal. If you keep weight off your legs by remaining on bedr
est and leave the splints and casts alone, there's a good chance you will,” Doctor Lipston assured.

  Paul nodded. “I understand, Doc.”

  “I need to warn you; this will hurt. But if we don’t set the legs before we place them in the casts, both legs will heal deformed, and you won’t walk again.”

  Paul’s eyes grew wide with fear for a moment before he stated with determination, “Do what you have to, Doc. I can take it.”

  Doctor Lipston wrote on a notepad and handed the list over to Matthew. “I need you to go get these items. When you get back, we will get to the task of saving his legs.”

  God had answered Matthew’s prayers. As Matthew headed to get the needed items, he sent up a silent “thank you” to the Lord.

  Chapter 3

  The sermons at First Congregational Church of West Linn helped Lucy grow in her faith and walk with God. She looked forward to hearing what Pastor McCoy was lead to talk about each week. What Lucy didn’t look forward to was the negative reception she received from the majority of the women of the church. Most of them continued to speak about and judge her because of her past and current job. More than one voiced their opinion she should quit her job now that she was engaged to marry Matthew. One woman was bold enough to state it was improper for her to keep working as she needed to focus on preparing to be a wife. Lucy had politely sidestepped the comment, but deep down, it had hurt to be admonished when she had done nothing wrong.

  As she looked in the mirror, she made sure her makeup was minimal. She picked out a modest navy dress trimmed with velvet which covered every inch of skin, leaving no room for the women to raise their eyebrows at her appearance. She placed a winter cape around her shoulders before rushing down the stairs of the boarding house and out the door.