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

by Nathan Adams

  "It seems as if my mother and sister have arrived," Johanna stammers, standing up and regaining possession of her hand.

  "So it seems," he replies.

  Johanna lets in Sara, who fills the space with her youthful exuberance. "Can I see the baby?" she gushes.

  "I just put him down. He's sleeping," Johanna says.

  "Oh, please let me look! I promise I won't wake him."

  "All right, as long as you are quiet."

  Her employer stands and crosses the room, greeting Sara as she bounds past him down the hallway to the nursery.

  "She has a lot of enthusiasm," he says.

  "That she does," Johanna says. For a few more seconds they were alone once more. Johanna sees her mother securing the horses before coming inside.

  "You have not given me an answer," he says, stepping near and speaking in a low, quiet voice. "Have I overstepped my boundaries?"

  "It's not that at all, Mr. Louden ... Reese. It's just that I never expected ... "

  "Neither did I." He reaches up and brushes a tendril of hair off of her forehead. "Would you care to accompany me to the harvest festival at least?"

  "I ... " Very suddenly, the solution to the problem rushes into her mind all at once. She knows exactly what she needs to do to get into the races. "I would like nothing more to do so, but I will be out of town on that day."

  "Out of town?" He takes a small step backward.

  "Yes, I am dreadfully sorry. Just on that day. Please don't take this as a rejection. Perhaps on another day we could take the horses out."

  "Yes, perhaps. That might be a good option."

  Sara entered the living room from the hallway, carrying a smiling Caleb in her arms. "He was awake when I went in. I promise he was."

  The child laughs and claps his hands, obviously amused by something only he understands.

  "I believe you, Sara," Johanna says.

  Their mother approaches the door. Johanna quickly crosses the room so as to not be too close to her employer. Her mother would have her hide if she thought her actions inappropriate.

  "It's time to get along, Johanna," her mother said as she entered. "We'll want to get home before dark. We must make haste."

  "I'll be awaiting your decision then, regarding what we discussed," he says, standing at the door with Caleb in his arms. Johanna exchanges a quick glance with him just as they walk out the door back to the carriage. She nods in response.

  "What decision is that?" her mother prods.

  "Just a business matter," she says. "Nothing more."

  She pulls her bonnet up over her hair to hide the blush in her cheeks and the smile of hope that dares to dance upon her lips. The carriage wheels crackle against the rocks as they make their way toward their homestead.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  The day of the festival arrived. Fortunately, Johanna's mother and sister had already gone to the church building to gather the garlands for the race. Johanna tells them she will stay behind and that she would meet them there later. She waits by the door watching the carriage disappear over the swell in the hill. She did not mind to walk into town when she was ready. The distance was not more than a quarter of a mile.

  They had taken the quarter horses, so Pepper stood faithfully in her stable when Johanna ran out to her. As quick as she could, she led the horse out, saddling with the best saddle. Luckily not many in town had seen this horse, as she was able to keep her almost as a pet since she was a pet.

  "Don't worry, Pepper," Johanna whispered. "They'll never even see us coming."

  Next came the tricky part of her plan. She went back inside after tying Pepper to the post outside. The silence of the house deafened her after she stepped back in. Perhaps the tinge of guilt she felt made everything seem that much more present. Even the silence. Slowly she walked down the hallway to her mother's bedroom. What she needed would be there. As her footsteps cross the threshold into the bedroom, she feels as if she is trespassing into some sacred chapel. She needed to move quickly before she lost her nerve. The ornate blue painted wardrobe was one of the few pieces of furniture her mother had insisted they bring from the east when they arrived in Neiman's Hollow.

  Johanna slowly opened the bedroom door.

  Her father's clothes still hung there, as if waiting for him to arrive and put his coat on for the day. Johanna flicked through, finding the shirt coat and collar that her father had worn for Sunday services.

  "This is perfect," she whispers out loud in an effort to break the silence. The second part of her plan involved finding his old papers, filed away somewhere in the large rolltop desk on the other side of the bedroom.

  At last, she is ready. She tucks the entry form, now completely filled out, and runs outside, pulling Pepper by the lead down the road into town toward the festival.

  Reese arrived, seeing dozens of people milling around the track on the side of town where the festival was to take place. Several of the ladies from church buzzed around tucking the flower garlands to the edge of the fencing alongside the racetrack. He was saddened that he could not convince Johanna to accompany him, but his status as an eligible bachelor did not seem to go unnoticed. He had volunteered to announce the race, and he sought out the booth.

  "There you are, my boy!" Mr. Andrews called out to him, directing him toward the tall booth overlooking the racetracks. "Here you are. You are sure to keep everyone's attention. Just use the large speaking device up on the counter there. Your voice will ring out over the crowd." Mr. Andrews handed him a piece of paper with a list of the names of those racing.

  "Here are the names of those racing. It is not set to start for another half an hour, so feel free to enjoy the festival until then."

  "Thank you, Mr. Andrews."

  He glanced down the list of names, ticking off in his mind as he recognized nearly all of them from the church. The very last name struck him a bit, John Holmes, No. 7. He does not recall the name but let’s the matter go. He is new to Neiman's Hollow and has probably not yet met everyone. Almost.

  "Where is your darling Caleb today?" The voice interrupts his thoughts, and he turns to see Johanna's mother approach with Sara following close behind.

  "How do you do? I have him with the other children with the nursery station back at the church."

  "Of course, of course. I assume you will be seeing ... "

  "I'm so sorry to interrupt," Mr. Andrews comes rushing up to him. "The horses are starting to line up. Do you mind to take your place in the tower?"

  "Not at all. Please forgive me, Mrs. Holmes." He turns away from Johanna's mother and makes his way to the booth.

  From the vantage point, he sees out over the length of the track, half a mile in a full oval. The weather is beautiful for the day’s events: sunny and just a hint of a breeze, enough to keep everyone comfortable. Down at the edge of the track, he sees the crowd begin to gather, eager eyes peering over to catch a glimpse of the horses.

  The riders all tended to their charges, patting noses and tightening straps at the last minute. He sees a young boy at the edge of the crowd away from everyone, his cap pulled down tight covering his face. The familiarity strikes him instantly, but he knows he has not made acquaintance with a young man of such stature.

  He pushes the thought aside as the horses line up at the starting line.

  Mr. Andrews steps forward to welcome the crowd with his arms outstretched, holding in one hand his best silk hat.

  "Ladies and gentlemen!"

  He is greeted by polite applause.

  "Welcome to the second annual match races for the Neiman's Hollow spring festival! This year I am proud to announce the race will be called by none other than the newest citizen of Neiman's Hollow, Mr. Reese Louden!" He gestures to the tower. Reese waves to the crowd, retuning the enthusiasm.

  The horses took their place. The familiar young man put on the banner that contained the number assigned for the race. No. 7. So this was John Holmes, but where did he come from? Who was he? It was time
for the race to begin. Mr. Andrews lifted his arm, to signal the riders.

  "On your marks!"

  Hooves pawed at the ground.

  "Get set!"

  Riders leaned in, narrowing their eyes.

  "Go!"

  Reese lifted the speaker trumpet to his lips. "And No. 5 surges to the front followed by No. 8. Coming up in the rear in the first quarter is No. 4!"

  He continued to call out the details of the race. The mysterious No. 7 kept to the middle of the group. The horses came around the first curve and along the backstretch.

  "No. 5 still holding the lead!" His voice echoed out over the crowd. "Followed closely by No. 4! Three is making a run for a place in the top three!"

  Without much warning, the No. 7 horse shot forward, surging up alongside the leader like a bullet.

  "Here comes No. 7!" He shouted, his excitement overflowing into his voice. "And they are coming around the back bend into the straight away! Five and seven are at battle, ladies and gentlemen!"

  The honey-golden horse bearing the slight figure pulled forward into the lead. Reese watched as the rider leaned in, as if willing the horse to move faster. Yards before the finish line, he could see the hat, which by some miracle had stayed in place up to this point, began to flutter. The wind caught it, and it flew off rolling away in the middle of the infield. The rider's hair, much to his surprise, flies out in long chestnut strands, giving away the identity of the rider.

  He knows that hair.

  And he knows that face.

  The mystery rider was none other than Johanna Holmes! His Johanna.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, talk about a dark horse! The winner is horse No. 7! And if my eyes do not deceive me, the rider is none other than our very own Johanna Holmes!"

  The crowd surged to their feet. The front row pressed up against the railing, mouths open, eyes wide. Johanna turned toward them as her horse crossed the finish line. She pulled the horse to a trot, standing up in the stirrups. Reese could not believe he did not see it right away. The men's clothes had hidden her identity enough for her to get into the race. The crowd was overcome, chattering and cheering. Some of the younger women were waving their kerchiefs and fans with adulation. In the corner next to the stands, Reese saw Mr. Andrews poring over the rules with Pastor Harkins, their faces pinched in confusion.

  Reese can stand it no longer.

  He lays down the speaker and climbs out of the booth, making his way through the crowd to the finish line. She is still on the horse when he catches up to her.

  "Johanna!" he calls, catching the bridle and leading her away from the approaching crowd.

  "Reese!" She calls his name over the crowd, speaking through the huge smile on her face.

  Johanna climbs down from the horse into Reese's awaiting arms.

  "I think," she says in a breathless voice, "I think I have the answer to your question."

  "Do you?"

  "I think perhaps it might be all right for you to call on me sometime."

  He laughed and swept her up in his arms, lifting her feet off the ground and spinning her around. "Oh, Johanna! My Johanna! I never thought you would say so."

  She felt her feet touch the ground at last, and he tilted her chin between his thumb and forefinger. With no measure of the crowd around them, he leans forward and kisses her gently on the lips.

  "And I thought winning the race was the best thing that would happen to me today," she says when he breaks away.

  He laughs and kisses her again, completely ignoring the press of the crowd. As far as either of them cared, they were the only two people that mattered.

  The End

  Return to the TOC for Bonus Content

  A Mother's Eternal Love

  Chapter 1:

  I didn’t care how the wind ripped through the valley this night—my son and I were done. My son, Thomas, wouldn’t see his ma get battered by a man anymore. I wouldn’t allow it.

  I carried my son as we hurried through the train station while the rain poured and the wind howled. It wasn’t the best night to be out, but it was the only chance I had. I tried to cover my face so no one could see the bruises and ask questions. I simply didn’t have the time and couldn’t risk the delay as we escaped to what I hoped would be a life of freedom.

  In hand I had a suitcase, filled with the letters written to me by David Copland. He and my husband were comrades in the war. They’d gotten close during the hard times and stayed good friends until the end. When my husband passed away from a gunshot wound, he told David to take care of me. He’d never come in person, but his letters hold power over my heart beyond measure. The tales he told captivated me. He and my husband braved everything together.

  I was used to Jacob being a tough man, but those stories reminded me how strong he really was. After all, he joined the Union even though we were from the heart of the South. We moved up North as a family at the start of the war, and my son and I counted the days for him to finally come through the door and greet us with open arms. That day never came, and I had to muster up the courage to move on for the sake of my son.

  To make things worse, his brutish older brother, Nathan, took his inner frustrations out on me. He’d been in love with me, but I chose Jacob over him. That never sat well with him. Once Jacob died, Nathan tried his hand at having his way with me. I prayed to God that He would keep me safe from Nathan. All we had was one another. The three of us were all that was left, and Jacob always thought Nathan would take care of me. Little did he know about the evil that lurked in his brother’s black heart.

  Beatings were more common now than trying to sexually assault my body. I presumed this was because he got interested in another woman, but he liked to punish me for all of the suffering I put him through for not choosing him. He also was blaming me for Jacob’s death. I don’t know how it could be correlated, but somehow he’d worked it out that way.

  The only thing that mattered now was that we were leaving. Thomas clung to me as I guided him through the busy station among the other people. This poor child. I had enough of him being subjected to the wrongs of our world at such an early age. I feared he would age well before his time because of all of the things he’d witnessed, but what could I do? I was only one woman, and no male figures he could accurately remember had ever shown him how to be a man. It was left to me to raise him to be better than his uncle and more like the good descent man his father was, the man my son would barely remember when he grew. Such thoughts brought tears to my eyes.

  He whimpered a little. I knew he was aware that something was different. “Hush now, Thomas. We’re going to meet a friend,” I said after some hesitation. I wasn’t sure how to put it to him. I knew I was taking a chance following my heart to be with a man I’d never met, but there was no way to explain that to my 2-year-old son..

  At first David’s letters were cordial and businesslike. But with each story, we started to open up to each other. Things changed. Suddenly I could feel his desire to be near me. I knew he hesitated—I thought because he was a descent man—but somehow I felt like in his last days my husband might even have suggested this to David.

  I held Thomas closer to me as we neared the train headed out West to Montana. I had never been to a place like it, but that’s where this retired military man had planted his roots. It was all I knew about him these days. Just a couple of weeks ago, his letters stopped coming.

  I knew when they got here and had timed it down to the second. As pathetic as that sounds, it was all I had. It happened so suddenly that I feared the worst. Surely David hadn’t met the demise my husband had. I could only hope and pray. That was all that I had. If I got there and he wasn’t alive, I would only have my son and my faith to keep me stuck to this world.

  Everything seemed to be going smoothly, though I was still worried Nathan would catch up to us. I didn’t let Thomas catch on to my fear. My heart pounded in my chest and sounded like a thousand galloping horses in my ears. My palms were clammy. I knew h
e had already caught on to the fact that we were gone. I only hoped I was right about my timing.

  Thomas got giddy when he noticed the train—now in all its glory. To me, it sat there like a chariot to freedom, and to him, it was an adventure. We both had similar smiles plastered on our faces.

  “Train! Train!” he shouted excitedly, bucking in my arms as if to hurry me along toward it.

  Even though I was excited, I felt a pang of fear as we stepped forward. I couldn’t be certain why, but it didn’t stop me from moving on. “That’s right. But you know you’ve been aboard one of these before,” I said, smiling down at him.

  He paused for a moment while he contemplated my words, but his excitement resumed. “Train!” he shouted once more.

  I giggled, but it was cut short when I heard a familiar voice ordering people to move out of his way.

  I turned around quickly and saw him standing there. Nathan had the ugliest scowl on his face.

  My heart froze. I wished to God right now that He would deliver me and my son safely away. If we could just make it to that train, we would never have to look back on this again. We would be free—if I could just get to David.

  “Woman, you really think you can just walk out on me? Where you going with all my money?” he asked with a sneer as he approached.

  No one seemed to be moving to help us. I always thought the one thing the North was missing was a little sense of morality. I could have just been thinking in the moment, but I was scared and alone with my son, and obviously this man wasn’t stable. I knew people heard that last comment about “his” money and assumed I had made my own bed with this situation. If only they knew he’d just confiscated all the funds Jacob left me.

  “This ain’t your money,” I hollered back at him.

  “You know it is, and you’re going to hand it over. You need to bring yourself back home and stop this nonsense,” he said.

  He was a nasty man, and people seemed to finally get this. No doubt they finally saw the marks and bruises on my face. A few men seemed to be closing around us in the event he acted out.