“Not yet, but I’m hoping there’ll be a letter waiting for me at the Post Office today.”
“I hope so, too, dear. Well we should be going. We have to go by the dressmaker’s shop for the fitting of her wedding dress. Ready, Charis?”
“Yes, Tildie. Goodbye, Laurel.”
“Goodbye.”
She went to the back of the store where Mr. Babcock displayed the rugs, picked out one she liked, and made arrangements to pick up her purchases after their lunch.
The post office was next to the bank, which was on her way to the café. Barely big enough to turn around in, the clerk sat behind a barred window with a pass-through and a letter drop off to one side. Hoping for one letter, expecting none, she was completely surprised to find there were two letters waiting for her. She was so excited, she practically flew to the café.
Laurel sat at a vacant table by the front windows, and ordered two bowls of stew from Maudie when she brought over a glass of water. After Maudie left to wait on another customer, she looked at the treasured envelopes. The return address on one of the letters was Massachusetts, from a Mrs. L. Hord. The second was from Pennsylvania. Since it would be a few minutes before Griffin joined her, she retrieved her glasses and eagerly opened the letter written in her mother’s handwriting.
December 9, 1890
My darling Laurel,
We were so glad to receive your letter letting us know you are all right. I always worried about you after you left to live with Lottie, but I knew she was looking after you. When she died and you stopped writing, it was like I had lost both of you. Your father was worried, but, like you he is stubborn. Yes, he threatened to bring you back home, but in the end, he decided to wait you out.
You are married and you’ve given me grandchildren! I confess I am surprised. I truly thought you would follow in Lottie’s footsteps and join the women’s movement. But at the same time, I am excited for you. It sounds like such an adventure you’ve undertaken.
We appreciate your invitation to visit and meet your new family. Adeline and Emmeline are packing as I write. As soon as I finish writing, I will post this letter and pack for your father and I. I am also bringing some special things I want you to have.
We should arrive by December 23, I believe, on the morning train. I will be counting the days until we are reunited.
Mama
She slipped off her glasses and dabbed at her eyes. One more week and she could hug her mama close. When she looked up, Griffin stood across from her. He pulled out the chair and sat.
“Is that a letter from your mother?”
“Yes, and they should be here next week.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Griffin, I’m so excited, I can hardly sit still. There’s so much I want to do before they get here.”
“Am I going to be able to have my stew, or are we going to have to leave before we place our order?”
She recognized his teasing by now, and liked it. She was learning to give as good as she got, so she raised an eyebrow and answered, “Whatever you feel is the right thing to do, Mr. Benning. Use your best judgement.”
“Not even a little intimidated?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m immune to your tactics, sir. Is that the best you have?”
“It’s all I can do on an empty stomach.”
“Then it’s a good thing your wife has a kind heart.” She nodded toward the kitchen door. “Your stew is on its way.”
Halfway through their meal, Griffin slowed his eating and leaned back against the chair. She’d been crying when he joined her at the table, and he wondered if all was well or if her father had disappointed her in some way. Would he be making a trip to Philadelphia in the near future to educate Mr. Peter Weidner on how he would be treating his daughter in the future?
“What all did your mother have to say?”
“That they were looking forward to the trip and coming to Arkansas, that Emmeline and Adeline were already packing.” She smiled. “I can just imagine their chatter about what to bring and how to stuff one more thing into a corner of the trunk.”
“So did they learn that from you or the other way around?” He referenced her trunks, partly because he liked the way she responded to him and partly because there hadn’t been an inch of extra space in her trunks. She could give lessons.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, you.”
“That was all? No bad news?”
“No, she’s excited about meeting Coral and Josie, and the fact that she now has grandchildren.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “Do you think Gwenda will be all right with Mama paying attention to the girls?”
“You’ve known Gwenda for a month, now, what do you think?”
“I think she’ll be fine with it, but I also think it’s a good thing there are two children.”
“Did you receive another letter?”
Picking up the envelope, she said, “Yes, and it’s from Lawrence, but I don’t recognize the name. It’s from a Mrs. L. Hord . . . oh! I wonder . . .” She moved her bowl out of the way, tore open the letter, and started reading. “It is from her. Griffin, do you remember me telling you about the young woman who sat beside me at the mill and lost her fingers in an accident?”
“I do.”
“Well, it seems she, Lynnette Thomas, got my address from the woman who runs the boarding house and . . .” She read further down the page. “It seems, she’s married a gentleman right there in Lawrence, a Mr. Lucien Hord. Umm, she says he doesn’t mind her disability and she’s very happy.” She sniffed and smiled over at Griffin. “Isn’t that wonderful news?”
“Yes, it is. After Christmas, when things settle down, you’ll have to write her.” He put money on the table to pay for their meal and stood as she put the letters away. “What do you say we load up the wagon with your purchases and head to the house?”
“I’m ready. There is much to do.”
***
A week later, Griffin stood beside Laurel on the platform at the train station. He put his arm around her shoulders to still that little bounce she did when she was nervous or cold. With her family due here at any time and the temperature dropping drastically, either reason was plausible today. He’d tried to get her to wait inside the building when they’d arrived, but she’d answered with an emphatic no. He tried again.
“Laurel, sweetheart, let’s wait inside by the stove,” he pleaded. “You must be frozen through.”
“No, I don’t want to miss them.”
“I doubt there’ll be any chance of that. I seem to remember a loud whistle and a clanging bell to announce the arrival.”
He found it incredible it’d really only been two months since he’d stood, almost in this very place, waiting for a woman he knew nothing about. A woman who he now felt he knew inside and out.
“Oh, look! There it is!”
The whistle sounded in the distance, gradually increasing in volume as the engine neared the station. The bell clanged as the engine slowed to a stop. When the steam subsided, Laurel was half-way down the platform looking for her family.
A feminine voice called out, “Laurel! Baby!”
Laurel stopped, swiveled, and saw her mother. She hurried back and squealed, “Mama!”
Hugging ensued and, after a couple of minutes, Griffin joined the group. He shook hands with his father-in-law, Peter Weidner, and graciously accepted a hug from his new mother-in-law, Adelaide.
“Sweetheart, take everyone over toward the buggy and wagons. I’ll see to their baggage and join you in a few minutes.”
“I’ll help you, son.” The older man joined him. “I’ll make sure everything is accounted for.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weidner.”
“It’s the least I can do if we’re going to invade your home.” Together, they walked to the baggage car. “And, Griffin?”
“Yes sir?”
“I believe we’ll get along better if you’ll call me Peter.”
***
&nb
sp; Laurel awoke the next morning with a smile on her face. She couldn’t have been more pleased at how her two families were getting along. Adelaide and Gwenda hadn’t stuttered once in their conversations with each other. It was like they’d know each other for years, possibly because Gwenda was from Boston and had known Aunt Lottie, but they were in complete harmony.
Coral and Josie were in Heaven with all the attention they were receiving. They’d even asked to sleep last night with Emmeline and Adeline. The reunion and integration of families had gone off without a hitch.
She dressed quickly for, though it was still dark outside, she heard voices downstairs. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Griffin, her father, Ansel, Clem, and Otto were sitting around the dining room table. It appeared they’d already eaten and were talking over coffee.
“Good morning,” she said, and then accepted kisses on the cheek from her husband and father. She thought the men were giving her guilty glances, though, and she said, “I think you are all up to no good.”
“Why whatever do you mean?” Griffin asked.
“You, my dear husband, look the guiltiest of all.” He glanced at her as if she’d hurt his feelings and he flicked away a fake tear. She laughed. “Gentlemen, I hope you’re not following this man too far down the garden path. I fear you’ll all be in trouble right along with him.”
Clem spoke up quickly in Griffin’s defense. “But Laurel, Griff ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Me and Otto, brung you something.”
Without thinking, she said, “Brought. What did you bring me?”
“Come, we’ll show you.”
She followed them and waited while they opened the beautifully carved, new door, and went out onto the new porch. Amidst grunts and groans, they finally made their way back into the house carrying in a large pine tree.
“We thought to bring a Christmas tree.”
“Boys, this is wonderful!”
Griffin came up behind her and asked, “Do you think you can round up some help to decorate it like you want?”
She wrapped herself in his embrace and smiled. It seemed she’d been doing a lot of that lately. “I sure do.”
Later that afternoon, she stood back from the tree and admired their work. She, her sisters, Mama, Gwenda and the little girls had used the decorations Griffin had had with Ora Lee, and Mama had brought a few with her. They’d strung popcorn garland and made bows from a roll of satin ribbon from the sewing box, and the girls hung the smaller ornaments where they could reach.
“It’s even more beautiful than it was this morning,” Emmeline said.
Laurel moved an ornament to another limb. “I agree. You know what it needs, Mama?”
“What, dear?”
“Grandmother Carlisle’s angel would be sheer perfection.” She closed her eyes and imagined the doll in a dress made of angel hair sitting atop this tree like it had on other trees in her youth.
“Here, Laurel, see if this will work.”
When she opened her eyes, she held her grandmother’s angel. “Oh, Mama, thank you.”
“She’s exactly what you need.” Adelaide, pulled the tissue from around the doll to get a better look. “Grandmother left her to the first girl who married, and that’s you.”
“We’ll take good care of her, won’t we, girls?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Coral answered. “Can we put her on the tree now?”
“I’ll help you.” Griffin scooped up his little girl and took the doll from Laurel.
“Be careful handling her dress and hair,” Adelaide cautioned. “They’re made of spun glass and you’re likely to get glass in your fingers. Rinse your hands in water when you’re finished.”
“Thanks, Adelaide.”
Darkness was creeping over the house when Laurel and the women went into the kitchen to fix something for them to eat. They began carrying food to the table and found Griffin and the others had put down blankets in front of the tree and fireplace.
“The girls and I thought we’d eat in front of the tree, like a Christmas picnic.” He took the food from Laurel’s hands. “What do you think?”
“Perfect.”
She helped finish placing the food, plates, and silverware in the middle of the blankets, and then she joined her family to share old memories and make new ones. When they finished eating, Coral crawled onto Henry’s lap.
“Grandpa, will you tell us the story about Christmas night?”
“Do you mean The Night Before Christmas?”
“Uh-huh.”
Laurel leaned against Griffin to listen to the story. His words took her back to when she was a little girl and her own Papa told the same story. She glanced in his direction and realized he was remembering, too. Looking at the people gathered around her this evening, these special people, her family, Laurel realized how fortunate she was to have found a life she loved. She had a husband she adored, children and the promise of more children to come.
She laced her fingers through his and looked up into his handsome face, and whispered, “I love you, Griffin Benning. Thank you for loving me.”
“Merry Christmas, Laurel, and to many, many more.”
Thanks for reading my book.
If you enjoyed reading LAUREL: BRIDE OF ARKANSAS, American Mail-Order Brides, is Number 25 in the unprecedented 50-book American Mail-Order Brides series. There are forty-nine more in the series! Find out about the rest of the American Mail-Order Brides here: http://www.newwesternromance.com/
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Also by Carra Copelin:
Texas Code Series
CODE OF HONOR, Book One
Brides of Texas Code Series Novellas
KATIE AND THE IRISH TEXAN, Book One
MATELYN AND THE TEXAS RANGER, Book Two
ANGEL AND THE TEXAN FROM COUNTY CORK, Book Three
Texas Holidays Series
LILAH BY MIDNIGHT
A Novella
A SANTA FOR CHRISTMAS
A Short Story
Anthologies
PROTECT AND SERVE
SILVER BELLES AND STETSONS
Acknowledgements
This book is dedicated to many members of my husband’s family all from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and the great state of Arkansas.
I wish to extend an extra special thank you to my critique partner, beta readers, and my wonderful editor.
About Carra Copelin
I write contemporary and historical romances but, unlike so many other authors, I didn't write from childhood or read long into the night beneath the covers with a flashlight. I found romance novels as an adult. After reading about a million, I discovered numerous people residing in my head, all looking for a way onto the printed page.
I'm a member of Romance Writers of America and serve as President of Yellow Rose Romance Writers, plus I'm a regular contributor to the blogs, Smart Girls Read Romance and Sweethearts of the West.
My husband and I live in North Central Texas, in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex where we enjoy our family and grandchildren. In addition to writing and researching, I enjoy my Bridge group, crochet, and tracking down our relatives through genealogy.
Laurel
Bride of Arkansas
American Mail Order Brides
Carra Copelin
Copyright 2015 Carra Copelin
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or i
ntroduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
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