by Griggs, Winnie; Pleiter, Allie; Hale, Deborah; Nelson, Jessica
*
“Wasn’t yesterday a wonderful celebration?” said Hannah as she and her friends helped prepare their intrepid leader for her wedding. “It was the achievement of a dream and our final triumph over our past.”
“So it was.” Marian caught her friend in a warm embrace. “And today will be another.”
Leah draped a gauzy lace veil over Evangeline’s bonnet. “I have not seen such a beautiful bride since I looked in the mirror on my own wedding morn!”
Evangeline laughed with the others. “It is thanks to all of you that I look remotely presentable for my nuptials. I was so busy preparing for the school opening that I scarcely thought about getting ready for my wedding.”
“My dress fits you perfectly,” said Rebecca. “It means a great deal to me having you wear it today.”
“The same goes for my veil,” said Hannah.
They had all contributed something to her wedding attire—Grace a sapphire pendant, Marian a pair of dainty kid slippers and Leah a lavish bouquet of roses from the greenhouse of Renforth Abbey.
Once Evangeline was ready, they all kissed her and wished her the joy in marriage that they had found.
“I am certain I shall have it in abundance,” she replied confidently, “if these past months have been a foretaste.”
The friends walked together to the nearby chapel where Jasper and their wedding guests were waiting. In the vestibule, Emma and Rosie greeted the bride.
“You look lovely,” said Emma with a happy sigh.
“So do you, my dearest.” Evangeline caressed her cheek.
“After the wedding, may we call you Mama?” asked Rosie.
Evangeline nodded with a sidelong glance at Emma. “If you wish, but only if you really want to. Now I think we had better head in before Matthew and Alfie get too restless.”
The girls walked ahead of her up the aisle, Rosie strewing fragrant petals of her namesake flower.
At the foot of the altar stood Jasper and his sons, all looking very handsome. The radiant smile on Jasper’s face and the warm glow of love in his eyes made Evangeline feel she was the happiest and most fortunate woman in the world.
Reverend Mr. Brookes opened his prayer book and cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
When he asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” Evangeline answered in a firm, clear voice, “I do.”
Behind her, she heard whispers and muted chuckles from their guests, but Jasper gave a decisive nod to signal his approval of her unorthodox declaration. She was giving herself in marriage to him just as he was giving himself to her, to share the rest of their lives.
As they repeated their vows, she and Jasper stared deep into each other’s eyes, making private, unspoken promises about respecting, supporting and challenging one another in the years ahead.
The children cheered when Mr. Brookes pronounced them husband and wife.
“To think,” said Verity when the ceremony had concluded, “two matches came out of your house party at Amberwood. There may be another, for I hear Mr. Webster is courting Mrs. Leveson!”
“I do not wonder that my wife’s matchmaking efforts were such a success.” Jasper seemed to savor those words. “Even if the result did not turn out exactly as she planned!”
*
Keep reading for an excerpt from FAMILY ON THE RANGE by Jessica Nelson.
Dear Reader,
With this story, I come to the end of the GLASS SLIPPER BRIDES series, which makes me a little sad. I have enjoyed getting to know Rebecca, Marian, Grace, Hannah, Leah and Evangeline, discovering how each was marked by her experiences in a harsh charity school and seeing how they have overcome their pasts to find love and a happy future.
Evangeline Fairfax is the most resistant to marriage of all her friends. She believes the responsibility of a family will interfere with the Lord’s work she feels called to do. She also fears marriage will curb her strong will. Widowed mill owner Jasper Chase does not want his children to lose their capable, caring governess. But if Miss Fairfax is determined to leave, perhaps he should find a wife to manage his home so he can devote himself to improving the lives of his workers.
When Evangeline organizes a house party to find her employer a suitable bride, Jasper begins to realize he need seek no further than…her. But can he persuade the wedlock-shy governess that her special calling may include a loving family?
Deborah Hale
Questions for Discussion
Even though Evangeline has worked for Jasper for several years, they only begin to truly know one another as she is about to leave. Is there anyone in your life you wish you knew better? What is holding you back and how might you overcome those obstacles?
Evangeline believes it is the Lord’s will for her to set up a new charity school. Have you ever felt a Divine call to do something? Were you eager to follow the call or ambivalent? How did it turn out?
The character of Jasper Chase is modeled after pioneering social reformer Robert Owen. Do you think it is possible for businesses to remain competitive in today’s economy while applying Christian principles to their operations? What are some ways they might accomplish that?
Though she lives during the Regency era, Evangeline Fairfax faces the modern woman’s dilemma of trying to “have it all,” including marriage, children and a meaningful career. How do you strike a balance in your life between family and work? Does your faith play a role in achieving a balance that works for you?
Jasper wants to shield his children from the harsh realities of life in industrial England. Why do you think that is? Do you agree with him? Why or why not?
Evangeline reflects on how her teachers criticized her and her friends, and how easy it was to dismiss the criticism of the others but not of herself. Have you ever experienced that? Was there anything that helped you overcome it?
What advice about courting would you give Jasper Chase?
When Jasper and Evangeline confide in one another about their pasts, they realize they have more in common than they ever expected. Has that ever happened to you? How did it change your relationship with that other person?
Through most of the story, Jasper believes that differences between a husband and wife can lead to conflict and unhappiness in the home. Why does he feel that way? Do you agree? Why or why not?
Evangeline’s friend Marian tells her that the Lord may be a teamster as well as a shepherd. What metaphors for God are most meaningful to you? Why do you think that is?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.
You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.
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Chapter One
June 1920
Oregon
“Bag the body and don’t forget to ink his prints.” Special Agent Lou Riley moved away from the man who had met his demise in the bowels of an illegal liquor operation. He slipped Wrigley’s peppermint gum into his mouth and gnawed on it as he thought through his circumstances.
This dead witness meant more time on assignment trying to track down the one who’d hired the foreign bootlegger to do his dirty work.
Prohibition in Oregon wasn’t a thing to b
e trifled with. After a decade of chasing murderers, traitors and thieves in his job as special agent for the Bureau of Investigation, Lou guessed helping the local police track speakeasies and distilleries served him well enough.
Better than the more dangerous spying he’d done until this past year.
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the stress of a hard day’s work combined with personal pressures. Day before last he’d left his secluded ranch to tackle this assignment. His housekeeper, Mary, had everything under control at home, but he couldn’t shake his unease. Over a year ago his niece and his best friend, Trevor, had married, and ever since he’d been thinking about the past. About people long gone. And lately, when he saw Mary, a strange tension filled him, which was odd because they’d always had an easygoing rapport in the twelve years she’d been his employee.
Not that his job ever kept him home with her for long.
Grimacing at the kink in his left shoulder, he wheeled around and left the dim building. An overcast afternoon greeted him, heavy with mist and promising rain. He nodded to one of his field agents as he picked his way to the bureau’s automobile.
Summers in Oregon weren’t exactly sunny. Not warm, either. He missed the aridness of his home in east Oregon, the openness of the desert range. Small cities like this one tended to weigh him down with memories. Buildings pressed in on him….
He shrugged the morbidity away.
Every time he went home, saw Mary, he left feeling this way. Maybe it was her trusting smile or the way her eyes lit with welcome when he walked in the door. Like someone else’s long ago. Mary’s look stirred up memories, blew the dust of time off them—he stopped himself, stuttering to a halt near a gutter. He couldn’t go there. Not ever again.
“Hey, mister!”
Lou turned slowly at the intrusion, his hand moving to the weapon at his hip beneath his coat. “You talking to me?”
“That’s right.” A shadow slid out from an alley to Lou’s left, heavy Irish accent lilting the man’s syllables. “You the agent in charge down the road?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I got information on who was supplying the gig down there.” The man moved closer, and Lou caught a whiff of sour fish as well as a glimpse of green eyes and blond mustache.
“Let’s take this downtown. Put it on paper.” That pesky muscle cramped in Lou’s back again and he fought not to wince. He was thirty-six years old, but he felt sixty today.
“I’ll just slip you the information here, quiet-like.”
Lou’s brows lowered. He looked down the street. His agents were busy coordinating the bust, but something felt off. Every instinct warned him to draw his weapon.
He never discounted his instincts.
Drawing his revolver, he beckoned the man. “Come into the light.”
“And get pinned for bootleggin’? Not on your life, mister.”
“Then stay right there. I’ll get a pen and—”
“This won’t take long.” The man pulled back suddenly.
Lou’s skin prickled.
Shadows closed over where the man had been as he slipped from view. Alert, Lou spun away from the blond and faced the road. A sharp ping split the night before his chest caught fire in a familiar, unwelcome sensation.
Pivoting, he backed into the shadows. Shouts from down the road reached his hearing, but whoever had shot him took off. The sound of the shooter’s footsteps was distinctive, a smart uneven clip of metal against cobblestone. Almost like spurs…. The sound faded, merging with other, faster steps.
His shoulder burned. He groaned as the strength left his legs.
This was real bad. Worse than a shot in the leg or shoulder. Body numbing, he crumpled to the ground. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. The sounds around him muffled and the last image he saw was Mary’s dark eyes, the curve of her lips when she opened the door to welcome him home.
Would he see her again?
*
Loneliness never killed a person.
Or so Mary O’Roarke tried to tell herself as she mentally prepared for a visit with her mother. Surely once she stated her wishes, her mother would then see reason and quit insisting on living by herself.
Oregon’s summer sun rolled above Mary, hot though not quite to its zenith. She slowed her mare outside the Paiute encampment where her mother lived. Alone. With no one to rely on. It was not the way an elderly woman should live, and she’d told her mother so many times.
Only now did she have the means with which to help her, and no one could stop her, not even her stubborn employer who owned the ranch where she worked and, until recently, lived. She’d bought an old friend’s house next to the ranch, the first home she’d ever owned in all her thirty years, and maybe that might convince her mother to come back with her.
Feeling hopeful, Mary turned the horse in the direction of her mother’s dwelling.
The encampment consisted of tents and campfires. The odor of rabbit flesh hung in the air. The government did not appear to care that native Paiutes preferred homes made from various woods and sagebrush, and instead provided them with only the means to make tepees. Mary nodded to those she passed. Some wore the rabbit robes for which her mother’s people were known. Others, mostly men, dressed in the white man’s garb. Trousers, hats.
She came to her mother’s tepee and dismounted. No hitching post for her mare, so she tied the reins to a straggly shrub nearby. Children whispered and giggled, circling but not coming close. A stray dog loped over and the children chased it, their ill-fitting clothes doing nothing to hinder their laughter.
A wistful smile pulled at Mary’s lips. She’d longed to have children many years ago. Before the trauma of her past had wrenched her from any chance of a normal life. Perhaps she’d grown too old now, too set in her ways…. She certainly knew nothing about the ways of motherhood. Sighing, she bent near the entrance of her mother’s tent.
“It’s Mary. I’ve come to visit.”
A rustle ensued. Then the grunt that was Rose’s answer. Mary twisted the flap to the side and entered the tent. The interior never failed to elicit a strange sense of distance. This was her mother’s life now, a return to her roots, but it had never been Mary’s life. The setting filled her with disquiet and a peculiar sense of displacement.
As a child she’d lived in the white man’s world. Her father was Irish and while he worked the docks, her mother had used her beauty to bring in money at various brothels. It had been an odd childhood, full of travel and sporadic learning. When she was twelve, her father had abandoned them, followed shortly by her mother.
Tasting bitterness, Mary swallowed and prayed for peace.
“You brought me something?” Her mother sat to the side, high cheekbones cloaked with lined, leathery skin. The map of her broken life.
“Yes, willow and sagebrush bark.” She placed the offerings next to the stack of intricate baskets Rose weaved to sell.
They lapsed into awkward conversation. Mostly talk of weather.
“I have my own home,” she told her mother at last, warming to her subject. This was why she’d come. To coax Rose into living with her. At her mother’s look of surprise, Mary continued, “I’ve bought Trevor’s house. Now that he’s married, he plans to find a place in town for when he and Gracie don’t stay at the ranch. I would like you to come live with me.”
An old argument, but she tried again, hoping this to be the day her mother might surrender.
“Interesting,” Rose murmured, stroking the thick rabbit robe on her lap. “Now you will be alone with your employer?”
“Lou?”
“You have great besa soobedda for him.”
“A what?” Though Mary spoke some Paiute, she wasn’t fluent and disliked when her mother used language she hadn’t taught her only daughter.
A crooked smile lifted the corner of Rose’s lips. “Besa soobedda is love, the sweet emotional bond between a man and his wife.”
Mary stiffened as a pec
uliar heat seeped through her. She’d lived at the ranch for twelve years and never had she entertained such a thought about her employer. Granted, he was charming and funny. He had hired her as his housekeeper when she was eighteen, offering his home as a refuge after she’d been rescued from the notorious slave trader Mendez. Lou’s kindness would never be forgotten. But love?
“We have no such love,” she denied. “I feel a sister’s affection for him.” Even as she spoke, she wondered if that was true. When she’d told him goodbye yesterday, there had been the oddest regret creeping through her. Unnerved, she continued, “I should leave if you do not wish to come with me at this time.”
“Wait!” Her mother struggled to a standing position, and Mary tried not to cringe at how age and worries had stolen her mother’s strength. Perhaps loneliness would not kill her mother but rather another more obvious ailment. She swallowed hard at the thought.
Rose shuffled toward a trunk at the other side of the tepee. Bending, she opened it. “I have something for you.”
“I want you to come home with me. I need nothing else.”
“This is important.”
A small blond head popped up out of the trunk. “Hiya!”
Mary started. “What is that?”
“I’m a little girl.” The child clambered out of the trunk and gave Mary a decidedly mischievous smirk. “Are you going to be my mother?”
Startled, Mary groped for words. Finally, she said, “I’m not a mother to anyone.”
“Oh, but I need one. Just for a bit, you see, until I go home to my real mama.” The girl shot a cheeky, gap-toothed grin up at Rose, who reached down to stroke the girl’s head.
The movement snapped Mary from her shocked paralysis. “You have someone’s child? Do you know the penalty for such a thing?”
Rose met her accusation with a steady look. “She is in danger. You have a home apart from Lou now. You can hide her.”
“No.” She shook her head, feeling her braid swing against her back. “No, I can’t do it.”
“My daughter, I need you.” Her mother shuffled forward. “I cannot keep her much longer.”