Contents
Title Page
This is a work of fiction and all characters are
This story is dedicated as always to my loyal and
Other Books by Trinity Bellingham
Tillie
Chapter One
ChapterTwo
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Millie
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Mail Order bride for Christmas
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
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Other Books by Trinity Bellingham
MAIL ORDER BRIDES OF HOPE SPRINGS
THREE BOOK BOXED SET
TRINITY BELLINGHAM
This is a work of fiction and all characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or organizations, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015, Mail Order Brides of Hope Springs Three Book Boxed Set, Trinity Bellingham. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or by any means - for example, electronic, photocopy, recording - without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
This story is dedicated as always to my loyal and faithful readers, who I sincerely thank for their interest in my work. I also dedicate my stories to the women who had the courage to pioneer new lives in the West, often against unimaginable odds.
Other Books by Trinity Bellingham
Wyoming Mail Order Brides (Series)
A Clean Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Series
Book 1: Second Chance Mail Order Bride
Book 2: Love Him Love His Mother
Book 3: The Widow and the Widower
Book 4: Two Miracles for Christmas
Chapter One
She found herself wandering down a tree-lined street and wiped the few strands of hair from her damp and sweaty brow, truly thankful to God for the coolness of the shade. Tillie Prescott didn't want to think back on why she'd made her way here to Savannah, Georgia. No. She would much prefer to find a nice house inhabited by some kind people. This looked like a good street to encounter what she was hoping to find.
Weak from exhaustion and hunger, as wellas the insufferable heat of mid-July, she couldn't go on much further. The house in front of her now would have to do. Sending up a quick prayer that she'd found the home of a benevolent family, she walked up to the door. She wasn't able to knock as loud as she'd wished, but it seemed to be strong enough to rouse someone. In only a few moments, the door opened.
"Yes? May I help you?" The friendly, yet cautious, voice came from a petite, round, cherubic woman with slightly graying dark hair. She swept her gaze from Tillie's head, to her feet, then back up to her eyes. The tiny lady's caution seemed to increase, but Tillie couldn't blame her. She knew she looked frightful with her dirty and tattered dress, and the Lord knew her hair must be more tangled than a squirrel's nest.
"I certainly hope you can. I'm looking for my brother, Thomas Prescott. I believe he lives at 517 Montgomery Street. Is that near here? I've come such a long way to see him."
A polite smile lit the woman's face. "Yes, it is very near. Mr. Prescott is a respected member of Reverend Barton's church." She pointed down the street and to the opposite corner of the intersection Tillie had passed only minutes previously. Why hadn't she noticed that building? Probably because she was tired and weary, aside from being preoccupied with finding her older brother.
"This is the Reverend's residence, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind me telling you how to find your brother. Montgomery is the next street this way." The woman pointed in the direction Tillie had been traveling. "Go to the right, and the fourth house on the left is Mr. Prescott's home."
Hope sprung up within her, along with the excitement of knowing she was close to seeing Thomas again. She couldn't stop the grin from forming and nearly splitting her face in half.
"Thank you very much, ma'am. I pray you shall have a wonderful day because I'm certain I will." She was powerless to keep the joy from coming through, but wouldn't have stopped it even if she could.
Giggling with enthusiasm, Tillie bounced down the steps and headed toward the road. She turned in time to see the kind woman closing the door, and waved at her. Then she turned in the direction she was told to go with renewed strength in her stride.
In a matter of a few minutes, she stood on the street in front of the house the woman had indicated. It was a marvelous, large home that she could only associate with someone who made a very good living. But then, Thomas had gone to college to become a lawyer before he moved here.
With a confidence she hadn't felt since her father died seven years earlier, she made her way to the steps, crossed the porch, and knocked upon the door. Soon, she heard footsteps approaching, and her heart filled with joyous anticipation.
"Thomas? Don't you recognize me?" She found it hard to believe she'd changed so much her own brother didn't know who she was. He stood there, on the other side of the door opened just enough for his head to poke through.
"You say you're my sister, Tillie. Is that correct?" His disbelief still came through in his words.
"Yes, Thomas. I swear to you on our father's grave, it truly is me."
He seemed taken aback at the mention of their deceased father, yet he also appeared not to trust her.
"If you are my sister, then tell me our mother's first name."
"Eloise. She used to be Eloise Prescott until five years ago when she married that truly awful man, George Holland. I was only fifteen at the time."
Although he hadn't asked for the additional information, she felt it would help him realize she was who she claimed to be. It must have worked.
A wide smile brightened his face, and his eyes twinkled. "I'm so sorry, Tillie. You've grown so much I couldn't be sure it was you." He swung the door wide open. "Please, come in. I'd like to hear all that's happened since I left."
"I do hope you have several hours to listen. There's a lot to tell."
He laughed, and she stepped across the threshold. Having closed the door behind her, he led her into the parlor and asked her to have a seat, then excused himself for a few moments. The room was well decorated with fine furniture, and Thomas had several bookcases in here, filled almost to overflowing. She could only guess they were some kind of legal reference books.
She'd been gazing around the room when he returned. "I've informed Clara, my cook, that you'd be joining us for dinner tonight." His statement startled her only in the slightest, since her head had been turned away and she hadn't seen him come back in.
"Thank you. That's very kind." She hesitated to ask the question, but
she needed to know. "Would it be too much trouble for me to stay with you for a little while? I've nowhere else to go, and I didn't think to bring any of my belongings or money with me."
His chuckle was infectious, and she found herself joining him. He seated himself in a chair opposite her.
"Yes, you truly are my sister. Even as a child, you were always the impulsive one."
In an instant, she stopped giggling and her mood made a drastic change. "Impulse had nothing at all to do with why I left home and came to look for you."
The seriousness in her words had obviously caught his attention. He stood up and came over to sit next to her.
"What's wrong, Baby Sis?" She'd always hated when he called her that, but now it didn't bother her in the least. In truth, she was glad to once again hear his pet name for her. "What could have happened to make you run away from home?"
She couldn't hold back the tears. "It's that horrible, horrible man our mother married!" Without warning, her throat clenched and she was unable to continue. All she could do was cry her heart out onto her dear older brother's shoulder. He was the only one who had truly cared for her when they were younger, and he was the only man she could trust to protect her now.
Chapter Two
She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there drenching the shoulder of her brother's shirt with tears, but it seemed like hours. Thomas had simply allowed her to let out her emotions, like he'd always done.
Tillie could recall many times when she'd been picked on for being a scrawny girl - and she truly had been until just before her sixteenth birthday. Upset and crying, she would run to him. He would seek out the abusive children and let them know his sister would one day be the most beautiful girl in the world. Then he'd embrace her, allow her to cry on him, and stroke her hair as she let go of the pain.
This was different, though. Back then, it was just the cruel, hateful teasing of the other children, but now there was something much more atrocious she had to explain to him. However, she didn't want to ruin his appetite before dinner, so she promised to tell him afterward.
"Thomas, you simply must tell Clara what a wonderful cook she is!" Tillie had never eaten such tasty food. "Everything was purely delightful."
"I believe I have told her many times." His smile said it was true.
The cook entered the dining room just then to collect their dishes.
"Never mind, Thomas. I'll say it myself." She turned her attention to the woman. "My dear Clara, I must compliment you on your cooking skills. I've never had such a superb meal, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart." She beamed a genuine smile at her.
Clara's cheeks went a deep shade of rose. "Thank you, ma'am. It is truly my pleasure to prepare meals that are so appreciated." She glanced at Thomas. "I do hope your sister will be staying a while, Mr. Prescott. She's a charming young lady." She shot a quick grin at Tillie, then turned and brought the dishes back into the kitchen.
Thomas looked over at his sister. "Well, it appears you've sufficiently charmed my cook. I couldn't let you stay anywhere else now. Clara would be furious with me." A chuckle bubbled up unhindered.
He stood and came over to help her rise from the chair, then led her back to the parlor so they could finish their talk about why she'd come all the way from Atlanta to Savannah.
If she were to say it was difficult to tell him her reasons for coming here, she would be lying. To be honest, it was the closest thing to impossible she'd ever had to face. Had Tillie been given the choice between having all her limbs removed and her eyesight taken away or explaining to Thomas why she was here, she would have chosen to be limbless and sightless. But he had to know what kind of man their mother had married - and what that man had put her through.
He sat next to her again, and the gesture gave her the emotional courage she desperately needed to get through the coming ordeal.
"I don't want you to get angry with Mr. Holland, but I must tell what he's done." She did her best to maintain control of the overwhelming feelings coursing through her. So far, it seemed she was winning the battle.
"You mean our stepfather, George, don't you?" His puzzlement was apparent.
"I refuse to dignify him with either of those terms. I prefer to call him Mr. Holland, or 'the man my mother married,' and I have my reasons. You'll understand when I've finished telling you what he's done to me." She was still in control of herself, and that was a good thing.
Looking down at her hands clasped in her lap, she continued. "Several months after you left for college, I began to develop my womanly figure. Mother told me she'd been the same age when it had happened with her, so I didn't feel awkward or abnormal." Heat was rising in her cheeks, and she was certain they were the color of cherries. It was difficult and embarrassing to say these things to her brother, but she knew she had to start at the beginning.
"A month before my sixteenth birthday, I'd prepared myself a bath, and that horrible Mr. Holland insisted on being in the room to watch me."
His sharp intake of breath caused her to glance at him. She'd never seen his face such a shade of crimson, nor his eyes so ablaze with righteous anger.
"Please, Thomas, try to calm yourself." She kept her words soothing. "He didn't touch me." It took a little effort, she could see as much, but his color returned to normal. "He never did anything other than watch me, but it made me feel cheap and dirty." She pulled a tattered handkerchief from the sleeve of her equally tattered dress, and dabbed her eyes. "This happened every time I bathed, without fail. That is, until a week ago."
"I'm not sure I want to hear any more, Baby Sis." His words were tender, though she heard a tinge of rage among them.
"Now that I've said this much, I must finish." She grasped his hand, and he held tightly to hers. "I was bathing, and he came in the room. I did my best to hurry, but he came over and insisted on taking the cloth to wash me." The tears threatened to spill, but she held them back with all her strength. "I was shocked, but refused to take any more of his abuse. I jumped out of the water, grabbed my clothes to hide myself from him, and ran through the house to my bedroom."
A few tears slid down her cheeks, and she swiped at them. "I waited until midnight, to be sure he'd gone to bed, then I got dressed and left to find my way here. I was so desperate to leave, I didn't think to bring anything with me."
His breathing had become shallow and quick, and she knew he was doing his best to control his temper. "Does Mother know about this?"
"I haven't had the heart to tell her. He treats her well, Thomas. She'd be devastated if I told her. I simply cannot do such a thing to her."
Chapter Three
Tillie could see her brother wanted to do something about their stepfather, but even if he could, no good would come of it. The man would simply find another young woman to torture the same way as he'd done to her. She wouldn't be shocked or surprised at all if he'd already done so.
It took a little time, and a lot of convincing, to finally calm Thomas down enough that he no longer wanted to commit murder. The abusive man couldn't bother her any more, and that was what mattered most.
"I'll have Millie prepare you a bath, with instructions that you are not to be disturbed." He gave her an encouraging smile. "I mean no offense, but you look like you've been sleeping in the woods."
The laughter burst from her before she knew it was coming. "That is precisely what I've had to do. I had a long way to walk, and it took me eight days to get here."
His eyes went wide. "You walked all the way from Atlanta? In the middle of July?"
"I couldn't stand to be in that house with that man for one more minute, Thomas. I had no other option."
She could see her words had an effect on him. He was now gaping at her with surprise, wonder, and what she could only interpret as appreciation.
"But how did you survive? What I mean is, you had to have something to eat and drink."
"I mostly followed the railroad tracks. There are many wild blackberry bushes along the w
ay, and I was able to find a few streams with fresh water."
"That was all you had for a week?" He sounded amazed.
"My dear Thomas, I didn't have much choice, did I?" She flashed a smile she hoped would put him at ease.
He seemed to ponder this for a moment. "No. I suppose you didn't."
"And I had plenty of time to talk to the Lord. I'm quite sure He guided me. I honestly had no idea how I would ever find you."
"Well, I'm truly grateful He brought you here safely." His eyes told her he was being honest.
She pulled him into a tight embrace. "And I'm very thankful I have such a loving brother."
After only a few moments, he let her go. "I'll go tell Millie about that bath now." He put a finger under his nose. "You truly do need it, Baby Sis." The last sentence was spoken in a teasing way.
Tillie couldn't help giggling, and she swatted his upper arm in a playful manner. "I'm sure I do, Old Brother."
He chuckled at her new pet name for him, then stood and headed for the door. He was about to step into the hallway when he turned. "I'll see if Millie or Clara has a more proper dress for you. I'd love for you to come to church with me in the morning, if you'd like."
"Oh, Thomas! That would be lovely! Yes, I'd like that very much."
"Very well, then." He paused for a few seconds. "I have some work to do in my study this evening, and I'm sure you must be exhausted and will want to retire after your bath."
"Yes, I am quite fatigued. I look forward sleeping in a proper bed."
His grin told her he understood what she'd been through to get here. "I shall see you in the morning, then. Good night, and I pray you sleep well."
Millie was a sweet young woman only two years older than Tillie. She'd mentioned she had been the housemaid for a little more than a year, and Thomas was a great employer. The poor thing was a rather plain girl, though not without a charming personality. Tillie decided she liked her within moments of having met her.
Mail Order Brides of Hope Springs Three Book Boxed Set: A Clean Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Page 1