Mail Order Bride: Montana Bride (A Clean Inspirational Historical New Adult Romance)

by Nathan Adams

  “Are you Mary?”

  “I am,” she said. “Who are you?”

  “Did you reply to an ad in the saloon for a mail-order bride?”

  She was silent for a long moment, brows furrowed. “Who are you?” she asked again, her voice stronger and more demanding.

  “My name is Rick Larson. I’m the one who put that ad up in the first place.”

  “You can help save my farm?” she asked nervously. She knew she couldn’t do it on her own, and if this man was who he said he was, then he was her saving grace.

  “I can,” he said, sounding cool, calm and collected.

  Mary hesitated for a moment but slowly opened the door. She realized that trusting this man was dangerous and probably not the wisest idea, but what did she have to lose? At this point, death didn’t seem like the worst possibility.

  As Rick crossed the threshold, he ducked down to avoid hitting his head. He was a tall man and stood at a good 6-feet-4-inches, an impressive height to anyone, but even more so to Mary. She was a small woman, weighing barely 100 pounds, which suited her 5-foot-3-inch frame. She took a moment to look him up and down, and then took a step away from him, instantly regretting letting him into her house.

  “How do you think you can save my farm?” she aksed, putting a hand to her chest in an attempt to still her racing heart.

  “As I said in my ad, I have enough cash to pay the mortgage until Christmas, and I’m a skilled farmer. I can make this land profitable again.”

  She frowned a little and wrapped her arms around her own small frame. “And you’re willing to do all this in exchange for a wife?”

  “Of course not. I want joint ownership of the farm.”

  “And if we get married, you’ll be able to take over ownership of my farm.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I know I responded to your ad, but I’m having second thoughts,” she said. “I’m not even sure I can trust you,” she whispered, her heart beating erratically.

  “Well, you have a decision to make. Either we are married by Christmas or you lose your farm.”

  His words were blunt and almost cruel. There was no patience to his voice, and it made her heart drop into her stomach. Was this really her only option? She swallowed and ran her hand through her own hair.

  “You are asking a lot of me very suddenly,” she said.

  “I disagree. Tomorrow is October first. You have three months to come to a decision. Three months where you will be allowed to see my work ethic and talents. By the time Christmas comes around, you will have a healthy harvest and cattle people will be willing to buy. Not the sickly creatures I spotted behind that barn,” he said. “You say that I am asking you to make a decision quickly. Well, if anything, I’ve bought you more time. Those banker men were ready to steal this home out from under you. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than being on the street.”

  Tears came to Mary’s eyes, and she nodded numbly, realizing that everything he said was true. “All right, I suppose I can take a chance on you, Rick.”

  “You’re making the right decision, Mary. I hope we can make this little transaction work.” He offered Mary his hand, and the blond woman stared at it for a moment, unsure of whether she was making the right decision.

  She finally took his hand and nodded slowly. “Me, too. Hope is all I have now.”

  Chapter Four

  The deal was that Rick would sleep in the barn. It was warm and dry enough to be more than comfortable. The very first night she’d sent him away with a pile of blankets and feather down pillows, and he’d thanked her for it. She knew that if Jacob could see her trusting this complete stranger, he’d have a heart attack. Mary was a sheltered woman who came from a very protective family. She’d never learned to be cynical because everyone around her did that for her. She was free to be as trusting and naïve as she wanted. It was one of the things that terrified Jacob about moving out West. There always seemed to be someone ready to take what they wanted from you or hurt you. That’s what happened to Jacob, and Mary could only pray that wouldn’t happen to her as well.

  A week passed since Rick first came to the farm, and in that time they’d only interacted at meal times. He was a little rough around the edges with a very coarse personality and intense demeanor. She wasn’t really sure what to make of him. She’d tried to start conversation with the admittedly handsome man, but he would just grunt and offer her a single word answer that left her wonder more and more about this mysterious man.

  The sun was barely up, so Mary was surprised by the sound of a loud banging at the door. They didn’t have breakfast until late morning. What was Rick doing waking her up so early? She put on a robe, shivering as she climbed out of the bed she’d once shared with her husband, and all but ran outside, her hair a wild mess from sleep.

  She tried to pat her golden locks down as best she could but knew it was futile. Mary threw open the front door, surprised to see a thick layer of powdery snow covering the ground. It was the first snowfall of the year. The cold wind whipped her dress around her ankles, and she gasped, bringing her robe around her body even tighter in an attempt to keep the chilling wind at bay.

  “Rick, what is going on?”

  “You’re going to help me today.”

  She stared at him as if he was crazy and then laughed. “I don’t do farm work.”

  “You do today. Now go put on something appropriate,” he said, waving his hand a little.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Of course I am. This place is a wreck. If you’re going to own half the farm, you’re going to help get it back in working order.”

  He turned and stomped off into the snow, leaving Mary bewildered and wondering if this was all some joke. When she returned to the bedroom, she stopped and glanced over at her closet, taking in the myriad of beautiful dresses she’d managed to buy since moving to Wyoming. They were beautiful but not suitable for farm work.

  Hesitantly, she pulled a pair of working trousers from her husband’s closet as well as one of his shirts, tucking it in so that she didn’t drown in it completely. The pants tucked into the boots she also pulled from the closet, and within moments she’d pinned her hair back and rouged her cheeks, wanting to at least try to maintain a ladylike appearance.

  She wrapped herself in a heavy coat and wandered out into the snow, looking around for Rick. He was at the stables piling hay into each pen. The barn was one long corridor with 10 stalls on either side. Each could hold two cows. It was by far the biggest building on the farm, which was originally used as a dairy farm.

  Mary walked over to Rick and crossed her arms over her chest, looking none too pleased. “What is it you would have me do?”

  He pointed to a second pitchfork against the wall and motioned to the pile of hay. “We need to fill each stall with hay so that the cows can sleep in here tonight. The temperatures are dropping fast, and if we don’t bring them in, we’ll lose them all.”

  Mary grabbed the pitchfork hesitantly and started scooping small amounts of hay into a stall. They were dwarfed by the massive chunks of hay Rick managed to pick up and toss into the sizable wooden stall.

  Each bunch of hay got easier and easier, and although the work made Mary’s body ache, there was a certain satisfaction in it. She grunted and set her pitchfork down a moment, settling down on a bale of hay and wiping her sweaty brow. It was only a fraction of the work Rick was doing, but she was far less used to manual labor. In the week he’d been here, Rick managed to get the barn back into shape and even repaired the broken roof tiles.

  “Rick, can I ask you a question?”

  He offered her a grunt in response that she took as, “OK.” Mary thought for a moment, figuring out how she was going to word her question. “You’re clearly a skilled man. You’re very good at this kind of work. Why don’t you have your own farm? You seem almost as desperate as I am.”

  He paused a moment and sighed, sticking his pitchfork into the packed dirt that made up t
he barn floor. Rick glanced over at her, leaning against the stall door and stroking his thick black beard. His emerald eyes stared off into the distance, and his eyes went blank, and his face pulled into a deep frown as he scraped his toe against the dirt.

  “I suppose I owe you some kind of explanation, don’t I?” he said, closing his eyes slowly.

  “It would help me trust you. You’re a complete mystery to me right now,” she admitted.

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I did have a ranch. Out in California. There was so much space out there, and they were just giving the land away, so my wife and I went out there and made a home for ourselves.” His eyes seemed to be searching the ground for an invisible answer. “There was a man who lived a couple miles away from us. He was sick in the head, but I didn’t think much of it because he was so far away. Everything was so scattered out there.” He looked up to the roofing beams and closed his eyes. “I was out to town, picking up supplies for the next few weeks, and while I was gone, the sick man got it in his head that he had to burn my house down. He never said why. Just that he had to do it. My wife and son didn’t make it out. They died in the fire.”

  Mary’s eyes widened and she reached out to touch his shoulder. “Rick.”

  He shook his head and raised a hand. “I came out here to start over. I didn’t think I was going to make it. I didn’t think I was going to be able to go on without them, but I needed to try. That’s why I came to your farm. You needed help, and so did I. I thought that maybe it would be good for me to help someone.”

  Mary nodded and smiled gently, tucking a few loose strands of hair out of her face. “I think you made the right decision, Rick. I spent a lot of time mourning the loss of my husband and this,” she nodded toward the hay and the pitchfork, “this is the first time I haven’t thought of him.”

  Rick smiled and stood up, picking grabbing the handle of his own pitchfork. “I suppose we should keep working then.”

  Mary chuckled and nodded, her cheeks going pink underneath her light dusting of rouge. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Chapter Five

  When Rick first told Mary that she was going to be held responsible for part of the farm, she thought he was crazy. When she realized he meant it, she was hesitant. Now that a few weeks passed since they started working together, Mary loved it. Getting out into the fresh air cleared her head and helped her forget the pain from her husband’s passing. She would never forget Jacob, but it was nice to not hurt anymore.

  There was a certain amount of satisfaction that came from a hard day’s work, and she’d never experienced that before. She came from the type of family where everything was handed to her and she was expected to just sit quietly and look pretty while a husband provided for her. Jacob knew that was the world she came from, and he was terrified that if May was forced to work, she might leave. Rick was the first person who’d ever expected hard work from Mary.

  They’d just finished up a long, hard day in the field, and Mary changed into a dress that was a little more appropriate for evening lounging. She liked working outside with Rick, but that didn’t mean she also didn’t like looking like a lady when she wasn’t in the fields. Her cream-colored gown contrasted her tanned skin perfectly. The days spent working in the sun warmed her skin to a pretty honey-toned hue. Her cheeks were pink, and her bouncy curls seemed to have been made even more blonde by the sun. Rick always told her that she had a healthy glow about her.

  A winter storm was howling outside, and Mary sighed as she took a peek outside the window, brows furrowed worriedly as the storm raged on.

  “You think the barn will be OK?” she asked, wringing her hands.

  “It will be fine, Mary. Come enjoy the fire,” he said, motioning towards the warm hearth.

  She paused and then smiled, putting her hands on her wide hips. “Actually, I have a better idea,” she said grinning.

  He cocked a bushy brow and smiled. “And what is that?”

  “Well, you taught me how to farm and raise cattle. It’s my turn to show you something,” she said, holding out her hand for him.

  He paused and took her surprisingly soft hands, wondering how she’d avoided callouses. “And what, pray tell, are you going to teach me?” he asked with a soft smile.

  “I’m going to teach you how to dance,” she said with a grin, pulling him into a standing position.

  “Dance?”

  “Yes. I’m going to teach you how to dance with a lady. If we are to be married, I expect a wedding, and I expect you to dance with me.”

  Rick smiled and stood, taking her hand and standing a bit awkwardly. It was amusing to see a man who was usually confident so unsure of what to do with himself. Mary smiled and took his hand, putting it on her waist and taking his free hand in hers. She draped one arm around his broad shoulders and smiled.

  “Ready?”

  “Don’t we need music?”

  “I’ll hum,” she said, grinning almost playfully. “OK, I’ll lead and show you the steps, and then you will lead, OK? Men always lead.”

  He nodded, brows furrowed as he focused on their feet, trying to memorize the movements. They moved around the room slowly as Mary hummed a tune she remembered from childhood. She remembered dancing to the song as a little girl, holding onto nervous-looking boys. Nothing really seemed to change. She was still holding onto a much bigger, gruffer nervous little boy.

  As they moved together, Rick seemed to get more confident. After a few repetitions, he took over the lead, twirling her about. His movements were sloppy, but the grin on his face made it easy to forgive. He spun her around the room, and every time the light of the fire caught his rugged features, she felt her heart flutter a little. He was handsome, for sure, but that wasn’t the reason she was falling for him. It was moments like this that made her heart race, moments when they were pressed close and she could smell the scent of his masculine musk. When he held her in his arms, she felt like everything was going to be OK. She forgot the worry and the pain, and all that was left behind was a hope for the future she never thought she’d feel again.

  Mary hummed the last lines of her song, and their dancing came to a slow and subtle stop. Even as they stopped dancing, they held onto each other, and Mary looked up at Rick. She stared into his eyes and realized that she saw all the things in him that she’d seen in Jacob. Guilt welled in her belly, and she pulled away, staring down at the ground, her cheeks flushed as she swallowed thickly and closed her eyes.

  “That was really good, especially for your first try.”

  He nodded and cleared his throat, releasing her and tucking his hands into his pockets. “Thank you…” He looked up and offered her a gentle smile. “We should try it again some time.”

  “That might be nice,” she whispered, though she sounded hesitant. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

  “Right,” he said, starting to collect his coat so he could brave the storm and go to his bed in the barn.

  She turned slowly and looked at him over his shoulder. “It’s too cold out there, Rick. Sleep in the house.” There was no reason for her to not trust him. He’d proven himself time and time again.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

  She closed the bedroom door and pressed her back to it, putting her hand over her chest to try and calm her pounding heart. A part of Mary felt guilty for feeling the way she did, but another part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Jacob would have wanted her to find someone else. Mary closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the little heart pendant Jacob bought her when they first moved to Wyoming. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let go.

  Chapter Six

  Rick and Mary’s days spent together were uneventful. They worked hard in the day and spent time together in the evening, eating dinner and telling each other stories. Rick was born in the West, so he’d never seen the East Coast. He seeme
d enthralled when Mary told him of the Boston harbor and New York. He even suggested that they buy a train ticket when the farm was back in order and their heads were above water again.

  December was soon upon them, and the realization that Mary was going to have to make a decision soon was hitting her hard. She was going to have to decide whether she wanted to marry Rick or not. The immediate answer was easy. She wanted to marry him. There was no downside to it, and there was no doubt in her mind. He was kind, strong, handsome, and in a matter of months, he’d managed to pull the farm together all while showing her how to do the necessary things to keep it up and running. If anything ever happened to Rick, she was confident that she could take care of herself.

  She knew she wanted to marry Rick, but the fact that she wanted to for more than business reasons made her question herself. Should she marry him? Was it fair to Jacob to move on? She’d promised him she’d love him forever, and although she knew that would never change, she couldn’t help but wonder if her heart was big enough to love Rick and Jacob’s memory at the same time.

  Mary was contemplating this very conundrum when a loud knocking on her door jarred her from her garden. She was dressed in her work wear and checking on their winter harvest when the knock echoed through the empty home. She trudged around the side of the house, not wanting to drag wet mud and snow into her clean house. She was learning to be a farmer, but she still took pride in having a clean house.

  The banker men who’d tried to take her house a few short months before were standing outside her door with a large lock.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, putting her hands on her wide hips.

  The men glanced at her, and the tallest one smirked, waving a piece of paper. “We’re here to lock this house down. The bank is taking it back.”

  “You can’t do that. I’ve paid my mortgage.”

  “You’ve paid what you owed, but not this month, and we all know you aren’t going to make that payment.”