ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories)

by Nathan Adams

  Her breath caught in her throat as she stared up into the beautiful sky, taking in the tall mountains and greenery. She was surprised to see any green, really. Michigan became a dead, desolate wasteland in the winter where the only colors for miles were the browning of trees and the white, snow-covered ground. Here the land still looked alive, and it was thanks to more than the greenery.

  The town wasn’t as busy as Chicago was, but it was still full of life. There were stores and cafes where people bustled around, calling one another’s names and waving excitedly when friends passed. Horse-drawn buggies rolled through the sloshy streets, and the sight of a bustling, lively community almost brought tears to Asha’s eyes. It seemed like centuries since she’d seem something like this.

  She all but ran into the simple wooden cabin that housed the ticket seller and waiting area of the train station and was greeted by a smiling woman with flowing blond hair and rouged cheeks. She was wearing a modest blue dress and holding a tray with cups of coffee and hot chocolate on it. The woman smiled at Asha and offered her the tray.

  “It’s far too cold to go without something warm to drink, dear.”

  “Oh, you’re right. It is quite chilly out, isn’t it?” she said, reaching out and taking a cup off the flat metal tray. She started digging around her small wallet for some cash and offered it to the girl. The woman chuckled and shook her head. “My dear, you don’t have to pay for the coffee. It’s free. A welcome home gift, if you will,” she said.

  Color flushed into Asha’s cheeks, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, well, thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  An overwhelming feeling of happiness and relief came over Asha, and tears came to her eyes. She threw her arms around the coffee woman, grinning into her pretty navy dress. She couldn’t put into words how thankful she was for the coffee or the warm welcome, but the woman seemed to understand. She smiled and leaned over Asha, kissing the top of her head.

  “You’re home now.”

  Asha nodded and wiped her eyes, standing up and thanking the woman again, sipping the bitter black liquid happily. She didn’t really care for the taste of coffee, but the gesture was more than enough to make her enjoy it. The feeling of finally being welcomed was going to keep her warmer than the coffee was.

  She stepped out of the train station, leaving the tin coffee cup in a basket near the door. Just outside the train station was just as lively as she imagined it would be. Ladies stood on sidewalks, dressed in the latest fashions and chatting while the world moved around them. There seemed to be people from all classes and backgrounds here and she could even see some people who were also clearly Native Americans. She was the only one in Iron Mountain, and it was nice to not feel alone for once.

  Her heart leapt with joy, and the grin that came to her face was an honest one. She was truly happy to finally be somewhere she could call home. People passed her and didn’t even afford her a second look, which was more than a little relieving. She’d gotten used to people casting glares her way because of the color of her skin, but here Native Americans seemed to roam about with everyone else.

  Asha was so caught up in the joy of it all that she nearly forgot to look for her husband. She probably would have stood in the busy street for hours if she hadn’t over heard a fateful conversation. A deep voice just over her left shoulder was speaking to the ticket man behind the glass.

  “When is the train from Chicago coming in? I’m waiting for someone.”

  “It already came and left, Sir. If you give me the name and description of the person you are waiting for, I’d be happy to have the coffee girls look out for them.”

  “I don’t have a description but her name is Asha Turner.”

  “Asha Turner, all right. I’ll have my girls ask around.”

  Her green eyes widened as she swung her head around to look at the man standing in front of the ticket booth. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and skin that was tanned and rough from years of working in the sun. He wore a simple pair of trousers and a shirt with suspenders over his broad shoulders. He was a handsome man with a thick beard and a sweet but gruff voice.

  Asha gasped and ran over to the booth, picking her pale green dress up off the ground as she ran back towards the train station.

  “Michael Sanders?”

  The man turned towards her, one brow cocked as he put his thick, scared hands on his hips.

  “Who cares to know?” he asked, seeming very critical of the woman in front of him.

  “I’m Asha Turner!”

  His face fell immediately, and he took a step back. “No,” he said simply, obviously not willing to believe that this was the woman he’d sent for.

  Asha looked confused, her brows furrowed and she reached into her bag, pulling out the crinkled correspondence that she’d held onto all the way from Iron Mountain. She handed the papers over, and he all but snatched them out of her hand, taking a moment to read them.

  Slowly, he set the papers down on the ticket counter, frowning. “In our letters, did you not think you should mention that you were a savage?”

  Chapter Four

  Asha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her mouth almost went too dry to speak. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she looked away, staring at the ground in shock. The word “savage” rang in her ears over and over again. She’d been called many things but savage wasn’t one of those. She closed her eyes a moment to regain her composure before looking up at the man she was supposed to call her husband.

  “Sir, my name is Asha, and I am a lady, not a savage.”

  He gripped her arm and pulled her forward, causing her to gasp and cry out. It didn’t hurt, but it did shock her. She yanked her arm away and cradled it close to her body as she stared at him.

  “You’re an Indian,” he said simply, staring down at her.

  “I’m a half-breed!” she snapped. “My father was a respectable farmer and raised me to be a good woman.”

  “Alone, I assume?”

  That accusation cut deep, and she turned her eyes away from Michael. “Why are you being so cruel?”

  “Because you were not straightforward.”

  “I did not think the color of my skin or my mother’s origins mattered.”

  “Of course it matters,” he said simply.

  He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly deep in thought. Asha was still cradling her arm to her chest, watching Michael closely, her eyes wet with tears.

  “Do you intend to send me back?”

  “After the winter is over. There won’t be any more trains coming through the mountains until spring,” he said.

  Her heart sank into her stomach, but she didn’t argue. She got the feeling that arguing wasn’t going to get her anywhere with this man. He walked away from the ticket booth and she followed, holding onto her suitcase as he led her to a tall horse. He motioned towards the beast and as he took her suitcase from her in one quick jerk.

  “Get on the horse.”

  “You wouldn’t want me tainting your livestock, would you?” she said, going over to the great black beast.

  Michael’s eyes narrowed, and he watched her carefully as she swung her leg over the saddle and perched on the horse with the ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times before.

  “The horse won’t listen to you. If you’re on the horse, you can’t run. I paid good money to bring you here, and I intend to get that investment back one way or another. You’re going to help me care for my child and my home.”

  “So I am your property now, is that right?”

  “You are my wife, and you will act in a way that a wife does. You will cook, and you will clean. I expect you to be diligent and respectful. If you are not, you won’t have a home or a ticket back to Michigan when spring comes around.”

  She set her jaw and remained silent even though she wanted nothing more than to shoot him a biting comment. Who was he to talk to her like this? She looked away from him and jus
t stared forward into the snowy landscape, suddenly feeling that she’d made a mistake in coming here.

  Asha wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. She’d been so grateful to the woman with the coffee and the way people just passed by her. For a very brief moment, she felt like everything was going to be OK, but then her world came crashing down. That’s always how it seemed to be: Things would go smoothly for a while, then her entire world would be torn apart.

  The rhythmic swaying of the horse was lulling her deeper and deeper into thought. Was Michael really going to send her back to Iron Mountain? He threatened to throw her out without a home or a way back if she wasn’t a good wife. What constituted a good wife anyway? What was he after? She didn’t like the way her entire future was suddenly in the hands of one man.

  She was broken from her thoughts by the soft neighing of the horse. Asha looked up in time to see a simple but cozy cabin coming into view. A slopping tiled roof and a chimney with thick plumes of smoke pouring out of it were the first things she noticed in the distance. There was a barn just off to the side of the house with livestock in it, and further back was miles of open land. She could vaguely make out a fence and several dozen cattle. She was sure that there were more that she couldn’t see just beyond the horizon, but the setting sun made it difficult to make out most of the farmland.

  Michael led the horse into the barn and tied it to one of the stables. Asha hopped down without any prompting and waited silently just outside the stable. Michael didn’t say a word to her and just turned to walk back toward the main house, clearly expecting Asha to follow.

  The interior of the cabin was warm and much more welcoming than Michael, and she was thankful for the small amount of comfort it offered. Her tanned cheeks we pin from the biting winter wind, and her single braid was starting to come undone at the very bottom.

  The cabin was rustic and small, though big enough for a small family. The kitchen was separated from the family room, and one bedroom sat just off to the side of the fireplace. A curtain was hung in the doorway for privacy. As she glanced around she noticed a loft, which she assumed served as a makeshift bedroom.

  She stepped into the main living room, taking in her surroundings, and hardly noticed the small child who was struggling to step down the ladder. Her legs were still just a little too short and a little too pudgy. The blond girl with bouncing curls finally made it to the floor and whipped around, running over to Asha.

  “Daddy, did you bring me a new mommy for Christmas?”

  Chapter Five

  Christmas, that’s right. It was almost Christmas. She’d nearly forgotten with all the commotion. After her father passed, there was no one to celebrate with, and the holidays passed by without her even noticing. It was hard to imagine that something they was once so magical was so easily dismissed when there was no one to share that magic with. Maybe having a child to celebrate with would bring back some of the joy the holidays used to bring Asha.

  She smiled at the young girl who couldn’t have been any older than 7, ready to respond to the question. She knew that Michael wouldn’t want the little girl calling Asha mommy. He beat her to it and shook his head, crossing his broad arms over his chest, a deep frown setting into his face.

  “No, this is Asha. She is going to stay with us a while, but she is not your mama, Rebekah.”

  The little girl nodded almost sadly and kicked at the ground, her head hanging low. Michael turned and walked away from the two women, and Asha frowned, kneeling down and touching the little girl’s cheek.

  “Don’t you worry about your papa, Rebekah. I’ll work on him, OK?” she said with a sad smile.

  Rebekah nodded and tucked some hair out of her face and sighed softly. “I hope you can make him smile. He’s been sad since mama died.”

  Asha nodded and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Let’s just give him some time. Is that all right? Can you do that?”

  Rebekah chewed her lip and nodded slowly. “I can try.”

  Asha nodded and patted Rebekah’s long curls. “All right, run along then.”

  As Rebekah scampered up the ladder and to the loft, Asha wandered into the separate bedroom where Michael disappeared to just moments before.

  “Michael?” she called into the room, twisting her hands nervously.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to know why you hate me so,” she said, her brows knitted together as she took in his perfect form.

  He was seated on the edge of his bed, pulling off his boots one by one, his mouth set into a scowl. “I can’t trust you.”

  “And why not? What have I done?”

  “It’s what your people have done.”

  “These aren’t my people, Michael,” she insisted.

  “You’re all the same,” he snapped sharply. “My wife was killed by the local tribe. They scalped her, you know,” he whispered, turning to look at her slowly. “I want nothing to do with you savages.”

  “You cannot blame me for the actions of strangers,” she insisted.

  He stood up, his steely grey eyes set on her face and his lips pulled back into a scowl. “You are not going to convince me to change my mind, Asha. This is not what I envisioned when I sent for you.”

  “I am a person, not something you can just trade back,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “You cannot send me back. I have nothing to go back to.”

  His eyes softened for a moment and then he shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Asha.”

  “No, you are not. Your condemnation is based out of anger! You don’t know me, yet you think you can judge me.”

  “Asha, stop,” he said simply, holding his hand up to her. “Nothing you say will change my mind. I am willing to let you stay until the spring, and then I will send you home.” His voice was surprisingly even and calm, and Asha found herself at a loss for words.

  She turned away from him and left the room for fear that she might result to begging. Asha didn’t want to sink that low. She returned to the living room, her legs giving out as she sank to the floor beside the fire, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Maybe he never envisioned having a savage as a wife, but by the same token, she didn’t expect to find herself with a husband who hated her with every fiber of his being. She’d been promised a safe home and to have that prospect suddenly ripped away was something she didn’t know how to handle.

  Asha’s relationship with Michael did not improve. She did her best to show him that she could be a good wife, but no matter how clean the house was or how delicious the meals were, he still looked at her like she was a snake in the grass. She knew that she was only allowed to be left alone with Rebekah out of necessity, though she was thankful for the time alone with the child. Asha got to know Michael through her. Rebekah was quick to tell Asha stories of what life was like before her mother was killed and stories of her father.

  Rebekah was the only light in the entire situation. She was a happy child with a wide smile and nothing but kind words. Asha asked her once if she thought all Indians were bad, and the girl just shook her head and smiled, telling Asha that she wasn’t bad. The response brought tears to her eyes, and as the they began to pour down her cheeks, Rebekah wrapped her arms around Asha and hugged her tight until Michael came in the house, glaring between them.

  The days were getting colder, and as the weeks passed, Asha started counting down the days to Christmas. She’d been in Billings for nearly a month now, and in that time, she and Rebekah formed an amazing relationship. They spent every moment that they could together and Michael seemed to be letting his guard down at least a little bit. He liked seeing his little girl happy and was willing to put aside at least a little bit of his mistrust to see her smile.

  Christmas was only a month or so away, so Asha thought it might nice to put together a wreath for the house. She and Rebekah wandered out into the snow, treading through the thick forest to collect branches from pine trees.

  Asha was piling the branches
onto a small sled that she pulled through the snow with ease. She was bending down to pick up a stray branch when she heard Rebekah gasp. When Asha looked up, the little girl was running down toward the edge of a riverbank that hadn’t quite frozen over yet. The edges were frozen, but the middle of the river was still flowing freely.

  “Asha, look!” Rebekah squealed happily, holding up a branch bigger than she was.

  “That will be a lovely addition, Rebekah. Now come back before … ”

  Asha wasn’t able to get her warning out before a loud cracking sound rang through the otherwise silent forest, and Rebekah disappeared into the river.

  Chapter Six

  The sound of the ice cracking and giving way beneath Rebekah's feet sent a shockwave of panic through Asha. She screamed and ran toward the river, reaching the bank just in time to see Rebekah get swallowed up by the freezing waters.

  Asha didn't hesitate and stripped out of her shoes and extra layers, knowing that the weight of her clothes would just drag them down even faster. Growing up in Michigan, she'd seen people slip and fall into freezing water and never come back out. Asha knew how much of a factor time was.

  She waded into the water, gasping as the current swept her downstream, and the water pulled her under. Rather than fighting the bone chilling water, she allowed it to sweep her away and carry her toward Rebekah, who was screaming wildly for Asha and her father.

  Michael heard the screaming and came running down to the bank just in time to see Rebekah's blond head dip below the clear water. Asha was gaining on Rebekah and managed to grab the girl's wrist and pull her from below the surface.