ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories)
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“Trice Reilley,” she repeated. “I hadn’t thought of that. Trice Winthrop is gone.”
Gerrit shook his head. “I don’t want her to be gone. I want her to be Trice Winthrop Reilley.”
“You do? Everyone always wanted me to change.”
‘Why would anyone want to change you?” She was just right as she was. Passionate, and fun-loving and full of the unexpected. Holding her tight after she had dressed, without the cumbersome obstruction of a corset in the way; teaching her curses and listening to her practice the words as if she were studying another language; watching her wrinkle her nose when she decided to sip from his beer at supper; brushing her hair before bedtime and reveling in the thick lucent waves tumbling over her shoulders . . . he’d never expected his mail-order bride to be an enchantress.
“You might,” she said seriously. “I can’t sew. I just learned to cook. I’m not much of a wife.”
Reilley’s eyebrows rose. “Really? After the last two days together, I’d say you’re very much of a wife.”
Her dimples showed in a smile. “Yes, but that’s . . . “
“Punishment,” he reminded gravely, hiding a lascivious grin that stripped off her finery with his eyes.
“Will you still think so when I mismatch the buttons on your shirts because I don’t sew well?”
“I’m 30 years old. Do you think I don’t know how to sew a button?”
“You surely didn’t marry so that you would sew your own buttons?” she inquired incredulously.
“I wasn’t thinking of buttons.”
She was silent as she considered this. There were times when her countenance was so open that her thoughts were plain to read. There were other times, such as this, when she seemed to be part of a greater mystery, one which he would perhaps never be able to decipher.
The stagecoach rambled on. The ride was rough and he was looking forward to being on his own two feet again.
After a time, Trice looked up at him, her expression open again. “I suppose sewing doesn’t matter as much as other things in marriage,” she suggested. She sounded hesitant, as if she needed to be reassured of something.
“No,” he agreed, “not as much.” He grinned at her. “I think we’ll do all right. We’ve done all right so far.”
Trice blushed. “Yes,” she agreed, “but what about when we’re in Liberty Bell?”
Gerrit tilted his head. “You look very pretty in that bonnet,” he observed. “I expect you’ll look just as pretty when we’re home.”
She studied him closely, her intriguing eyes fixing her gaze upon him. “I don’t know very much about anything besides bonnets and such,” she said finally. “Will you be disappointed in me?”
She was too young to have awakened in the morning burdened with the knowledge that the day would end in the same unwelcome solitude with which it had begun. He barely knew how to assure her that she was exactly what he wanted in a wife, a winsome woman who would be there waiting for him when he returned at the end of the work day. He’d been a bachelor long enough to fend for himself; he could cook after a fashion and sew his buttons if need be. He took his clothes into town for laundering, but it didn’t require much book learning to figure out how to fill a basin with water and wash them. He hadn’t sought a wife because he wanted a servant. He had what he wanted; he might not be able to frame pretty words around his feelings for her, but he felt them strongly just the same. It would be his work to make her understand that he loved her the way a cowboy loved a woman. Not with fancy clothes or poetry but with a strong back, hard-working hands, and a heart that would never fail her.
He stretched his long legs out in front of him. Back to Liberty Bell before nightfall. He’d take her home. He had a feeling that she’d get along fine with Lady Jane and Luther and Jezebel and Stonewall. There were stumbling blocks ahead, he realized. There were things in his past that she didn’t know. And maybe there were different things in her past that he was unaware of. Maybe marriage meant that when a man and a woman became one, forsaking all others, they found a shared place where their secrets, whether divulged or kept, were safe.
He didn’t know. But he did know that nothing in life had ever prepared him for the joy of his mail-order bride from Boston.
The End
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Mail Order Brides: The Heart Series
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Miracle of The Heart
Clean Western Mail Order Bride Romance
By: Claire Grace
Chapter One
I lived in small community in Connecticut at the time. It was a dirty place, and not just dirty in the sense that there wasn’t a hint of sanitation in the crowded, industrialized town. The men and women who populated the town I called home were what was really filthy. They wagged their tongues all about town with things that shouldn’t concern them, and I oftentimes wondered if God was in their lives at all. I was one of their favorite pastimes, and I never caught a break.
Vanessa Cromwell was the laughing stock of town, and that was me. I was pregnant, my slightly rounded belly no longer as easily hidden by my dresses, but I was not married any longer. My husband, Lawrence Cromwell, died in the untimeliest manner. What was more was the fact that I was a suspect in his murder even after it had been settled and deemed an accident. Of course, little could be trusted in those times. Pure excitement and scandal were more important than true justice. I walked into my home to find that he had been drinking too much as he usually did, but something had been different. His eyes were still open when I found him, and his face was pale as a sheet. I was in distress and immediately called for help, but seeing as he was a healthy man, seen by the community as an upstanding citizen and prominent politician, it was unfathomable that he would have drinking problems or that this was an accident.
This is where the blame was placed on me. I’ve heard every rumor in the book at this point. Currently the story goes that I was so depressed that I was with child because I was in an unhappy marriage that it prompted me to poison my husband and frame it as alcoholism. Certainly I was unhappy that he drank himself to sleep most nights, but I was never so unhappy that I would murder him. I could no longer walk in the town with dignity, and everywhere I went was rife with verbal abuse from those I once considered friends. Many wondered why I stopped wearing my black gowns only a week after his passing. The attention I had hoped to shrug off only grew worse with that mistake of mine.
That evening, I sat by the light of my oil lamp examining the latest paper. It spoke of a man looking for love, and I was eager to learn more about him. Of course I was entranced…He was reaching out far across the country, hoping that he could find a woman to ease his loneliness in a recently settled town in Texas. A prominent ranchman, I was also a little excited by the prospect. I had been terribly lonely, and thinking about being in the arms of a man who would love me instead of ignore me for his bottle was enticing. I immediately pulled out my pen and parchment to respond right away. I couldn’t be sure when he would reach out for me, but I knew if God had it in his plans for me to find love, I would hear from him within the month.
A friend of mine had come by to check on me, and she startled me out of my vigorous writing. I looked up at her with a smile, though I was certain I was nervous and my expression told a thousand words. “Emily!” I exclaimed in mock happiness, “You frightened me, I’m sorry.” I hurriedly attempted to correct myself.
She giggled and moved forward, dressed just as fabulously as ever. She was the daughter of the mayor, and so we were always close with my father having worked with him for many decades. She was always lavish, and I am not ashamed to say I was envious of her poise and fashionable tastes. Tonight, it was a plum colored tea gown that I had once eyed in a store. I wanted to buy it, but considered it a bad idea in light of my reputation. People might think I was trying to woo some other man to shoulder the responsibility that once belonged to Lawrence.
“You seem really…preoccupied.
” She said curiously as she came near to sit with me at the desk.
I moved the paper underneath a book and sat my pen down abruptly. “What makes you think that?” I asked.
“Well, you didn’t hear me calling your name downstairs. I just figure you have something distracting you is all. It’s hard not to hear someone in this big house you know.” She said, “And where is Olivia?” she asked curiously.
Olivia was my personal attendant. She was a fair-skinned woman born to a mulatto mother and a white father who had been abandoned by them both. She’d been with my family’s staff since she was a baby, and we were quite close despite the miles between us in our status. How was I going to tell Emily that I had put her on leave while I wallowed in my self-pity? “She’s gone for the day.” I answered simply as I moved from the desk. I aimed to quell her curiosity as I noticed her eyes leering towards the paper under the book. No doubt she had realized what I was doing.
Emily’s eyes drifted up to meet mine before she too stood and straightened out her dress. “Olivia is never simply gone. I believe you had her sent away. People have said that she hasn’t been seen around this week.” Emily said.
I knew I was cornered, so I didn’t attempt to hide it any longer, “Very well…I had her sent away. I simply couldn’t bear watching her worry over me any longer. I don’t want to be reminded of what those people are doing to me any longer than I have to, and I also don’t want her to pity me. She’d always seen me strong. It is for this exact reason I must ask you to leave. I have things I need to attend to.” I said.
Emily looked at me a little longer before she decided she couldn’t keep her frustrations inside, “Vanessa. Please don’t tell me you’re responding to that sad ad in the paper. It’s only going to fuel those rumors more if you suddenly pack up and leave.” She said as she placed her hand on her chest.
“So be it. I won’t be here to have to listen to it. Let them talk as I go and find happiness again.” I said. In my vicious disdain for the people who spoke ill of me, I’d let slip my intentions.
Emily scoffed, “I knew it. You don’t know anything about this man. Texas is much too far away as it is, and even a train ride there would be a nightmare alone…If you’re going to go, at least promise me you’re taking Olivia with you.” She urged.
I nodded, “I had every intention, otherwise she’ll be the one to take the brunt of this entire situation. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I said as I looked towards my desk once more.
Emily looked sad as she turned to the door, “I just hope you find happiness…I really do.” She said before leaving.
I watched her leave and let out a sigh of relief. Once I heard my door shut securely, I looked back at my desk, illuminated by the lamp. It was somewhat terrifying, yet uplifting to gaze upon it and realize this was the key to my future. I sat back down and removed the paper from beneath the book to see that my ink had smeared. It could have been a worrying sign, but I didn’t care. I was determined to have true happiness again, better than before. My child and myself deserved this.
I pulled a new sheet from a nearby drawer, and began to write my response once more.
Chapter Two
As the days rolled by, I grew more anxious. It was a blessing to me when the mailman arrived with a special delivery that made me glow happily. I swiped it from his hands and gave a quick thank you before rushing up to my room. I opened the letter excitedly and then fell back onto the bed when I read the words:
My dear Vanessa,
Your words are the sweetest I’ve read, and I can’t wait to meet you. I can’t stop thinking about the things you’ve said, and I want to be one with you as soon as possible. Accept my proposal, and I will give you the life you desire.
You are worth waiting for,
Brandon Hynes
I knew right away that my life was going to change. Everything I knew about him so far made my heart beat loudly in my chest, and I wanted nothing more than to know this interesting man I would soon call my husband. I was newly engaged, and the excitement made me swoon. I hugged the note close. It even had a masculine scent to it that teased my senses, and I squealed in delight.
Olivia walked into the room with a knowing smile on her face. “You must have gotten the letter.” She said.
I smiled back and hugged the note closer, “I did! He has just proposed to me! I want to write a letter back, but I think it would be much more fitting to show in person and accept it. I can’t bear to be apart from him any longer.” I said.
“Well then I will start packing your things and my own. You should probably hurry and get your tickets.” She said as she moved towards my wardrobe. She seemed just as excited, no doubt because we would be getting to see a new place that neither of us had ever seen. Texas was like a foreign land to me, and I felt like a princess setting off to meet her prince. I nodded excitedly and grabbed up my pouch. “Of course! Then I will be back, and we should head off at the earliest time, so be quick!” I said to her before moving out the door.
I ignored any whispers and rumoring. I was in much too good a mood to be brought down yet again by my town’s insistent gossiping. I sent a letter express that asked him to come to the train station, and then proceeded to plan my trip.
It wasn’t very long afterward when I had secured the ticket for the earliest time I could. Instead of my letter, he would receive the whole package. Olivia and I took the long journey to Texas, and as we drifted farther from the east, we watched as the landscapes went from rolling green hills and azure blue skies, to dusty plains and tumbleweed.
Olivia frowned, “It isn’t the most welcome sight…” she said to me.
I sighed, “Perhaps not, but love is waiting for me here. No matter what I see outside this window, it won’t detour me from what’s there awaiting me.”
She smiled, “Of course not. I just hope we can both get used to it.” She said as we sat quietly for the short remainder of the trip. We found ourselves off boarding the train to a sea of people milling about, but without even trying I knew who I was looking for. His eyes met mine, and I noticed right away that he was Brandon.
I’d never seen such vibrant eyes. They were a mesmerizing shade of hazel, deep and profound. He was more muscular than men I had known back in Connecticut, likely due to the hard work he performed on a daily basis, and his manner of dress was like that of a cowboy straight out of my favorite tales. I was unable to resist the man I saw before me, but a sense of dread began to fill me as I worried about something I hadn’t thought to before.
Of course I hadn’t spoken much of my pregnancy in our brief letters. His expression worried me as it seemed much too baffled, and less enthused than my own. Olivia seemed to have noticed as well. I wasn’t sure what to expect now, and I feared that my troubles back home had followed me here as well. I had been naïve to think that everything would be different just because I fled.
I approached him slowly, and he met me halfway. We stood looking into one another’s eyes, and I just couldn’t read what was behind them. What was he thinking? The ideas of what it could be terrified me.
“You must have been expecting something…different.” I said hesitantly as I looked down.
He studied my features for a moment longer before a smile unexpectedly broke out across his face. “Truthfully, I pictured you as beautiful, but I just didn’t know how beautiful. You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He said as he held my hands. “But you seem troubled. If it’s because you thought I wouldn’t find you attractive, I assure you it’s anything but that. Guess I must have had a pretty stupid look on my face.” He said sheepishly. His voice had that undeniable Texan drawl to it. I found it very alluring, and it only added to his charm.
I smiled weakly and shook my head, “Not at all! I-I’m just not very good at figuring out what someone is thinking, but I’m glad I was wrong.” I said. I could feel my cheeks warming up. This man was absolutely gorgeous, and here he was thinking the same thing about me. I never did fancy myself that
beautiful, but somehow I had never had an issue wooing men. In my youth, I was frequently courted, but I was raised by parents who believed a woman should keep her modesty well into adulthood where she could one day give herself to the man she loved in the purest of senses. I firmly believed the same, however I suppose anyone could imagine how disdainful it was to think I had been a failure considering my situation. I prayed he didn’t say anything about my pregnancy.
“And who would this lovely lady be?” he asked, gesturing towards Olivia.
I smiled, “This is my personal assistant Olivia Taft. She’s a very kind girl, and always goes above and beyond. She’s priceless to me, so I hope she can be included in the home.” I urged.
Olivia had been worried that Brandon would turn her away. She didn’t want to go back to Connecticut, but she essentially would if I couldn’t find her a space here. I had promised to work my hardest, but something in me told me that Brandon wasn’t the type to do such things.
He gave her a bright smile, “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Taft. I think you’ll fit right in with the others at the home. They’ll show you around and get you settled with what tasks you’ll need to perform once myself and Miss Cromwell wed. Until then, please keep your efforts focused on her needs.” He said.
Olivia nodded politely, “Of course sir.” She said. Our luggage was unloaded by some of the station hands, and we were then taken to his coach, where we were seated inside. Olivia was taken separately so that myself and Brandon could have some alone time.
I was like a bashful child in his presence. I couldn’t look him in the eyes very well, but that familiar scent lingered in the air. It truly made me wish to know his touch, but I restrained my desires in favor of being as dignified as possible. He could very well send me back.
After some time, he spoke. “Miss Cromwell, I hope we can be on more familiar terms now.” He said.