Table of Contents
Copyright
Join My VIP Readers’ Club List
A Personal Note From Ellie Atkinson
Dedication
About The Author
Snatching the Bride
PROLOGUE
*
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
Also By Elliee Atkinson
Acknowledgement
If You Have Enjoyed This Book…
Publisher’s Notes
Snatching the Bride
Family of Love Series
Elliee Atkinson
GREENHOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
Contents
Copyright
Join My VIP Readers’ Club List
A Personal Note From Ellie Atkinson
Dedication
About The Author
Snatching the Bride
PROLOGUE
*
CHAPTER ONE
*
CHAPTER TWO
*
CHAPTER THREE
*
CHAPTER FOUR
*
CHAPTER FIVE
*
CHAPTER SIX
*
CHAPTER SEVEN
*
CHAPTER EIGHT
*
CHAPTER NINE
*
CHAPTER TEN
*
CHAPTER ELEVEN
*
CHAPTER TWELVE
*
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
*
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
*
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
*
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
*
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
*
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
*
CHAPTER NINETEEN
*
CHAPTER TWENTY
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
*
EPILOGUE
*
Join My VIP Readers’ Club List
Also By Elliee Atkinson
Acknowledgement
If You Have Enjoyed This Book…
Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2016 - 2018 by ELLIEE ATKINSON & GREEN HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Cover designed by Ms Melody Simmons. Author has the copyrights to this cover.
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A PERSONAL NOTE
FROM ELLIEE ATKINSON
To My Dearest Lovely Readers,
Those female characters within my stories are women who displayed strong faith of love, knowing what they want to pursue in the Wild West.
They are constantly seeking and believe the true love really exists as they are often being looked upon as an inferior gender. Because of these social stigma, it motivates them to overcome challenges they may face while waiting for the man of their dreams to appear.
Will these insecurities and stigma encourages them in believing true love despite the differences and challenges in social standing that they will face during this Wild West period?
Read on to find out the answers!
Thank you very much for your strong support to my writing journey!
With Hugs, Kisses and Love…
DEDICATION
“I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.”
Alice Walker
This Story Is Specially Dedicated To You, My Dearest Reader!
It is with gratefulness and gratitude that I am writing to you this personal dedication.
Thank you once again for giving me this opportunity to share with you my creative side of me.
I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much I have enjoyed writing it!
It is with such great support from you that keep us authors writing and writing, presenting to you with great and interesting stories.
Have you checked out my other western historical romance books series?
Click the link below to get started
*** AMAZON USA ***
Do you like what you have read?
I would want to hear from you!
Please do get in touch with me:
https://www.facebook.com/EllieeAtkinsonBooks/
[email protected]
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elliee Atkinson is the author of many mail order brides stories and her alternate name is Rosie Attwood. Using Elliee Atkinson as her new pen-name, she spins out American historical western romance stories for readers that appreciate the romance that happened in the Old Wild West.
Elliee loves writing and reading romance. Her first western romance “Wild Montana Sky” by Debra Holland was inspired by the story perseverance and determination of the women from the wild west and how they overcome adversaries, fight for the love they deserved and desired.
Many of her stories are based on her knowledge of the old west, although all the names, events, and places that may resemble or are similar to living people are only coincidental and fiction, of course.
Elliee credits her wonderfully supportive partner and friend, Steven and her advance review reviewers for helping her to fine-tune her writing skills and allowing her creativity to explode.
SNATCHING THE BRIDE
A WESTERN ROMANCE STORY
by
ELLIEE ATKINSON
and
Green House Publishing Co.
PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE
Becky looked through the window to the road outside. Her parents were due home after a trip to their a
unt and uncle in Louisville. The little town wasn’t far from Wickenburg, where Becky and her family lived. She was fully aware that they were overdue. They were to have arrived the day before and still there was no sign of them.
It didn’t make her nervous yesterday. However, she was only eleven and didn’t have a clue what to do with their tardiness. She would not be able to live on her own.
She went through the front door and walked to the edge of the porch, where she sat on the top steps, pressing her dress flat against her skinny knees. She hugged herself, seeking the comfort she couldn’t find elsewhere. Her stringy blond hair was not very clean; she hadn’t taken a bath in several days. She was hoping she wouldn’t be too dirty by the time her parents came back. She couldn’t lift very many pails of hot water from the pot-bellied stove by herself.
She looked across the dirt road at a neighbor’s house. Old man Lewinsky lived over there. Becky didn’t like him very much. He was always cranky. He never had anything nice to say about or to her. It was her brother’s fault. Bruce was 10 years older than Becky. By the time she came around, he had already spoiled the relationship with the old man. Lewinsky expected Becky to be as much of a rebel as Bruce.
She shook her head, moving her eyes away from his house. She didn’t want to go to him for help. If she did anything, she would walk to the ranch where Bruce lived as a ranch hand. She didn’t particularly want to do that, either. At 21, Bruce had made a reputation for himself in Wickenburg. He was a heavy drinker, a regular fighter, and didn’t treat the ladies in town with even a modicum of a respect. He was lucky to keep the job he had. It kept him away from the house, which was what Becky’s parents wanted. They had mentioned on occasion how happy they were to have gotten such a delicate, sweet little girl as a daughter after the brute they had raised.
Becky peered down the dirt road, wondering where her parents could possibly be. They never left her for too long. They loved her and took good care of her.
After sitting on the porch for close to an hour, Becky finally stood up and went back inside. She put on her stockings and shoes. She picked up a light sweater her mother had made for her last fall. She would have to go find help. She couldn’t stay here another night on her own. Food was becoming scarce and there was no adult to help her clean herself or the house in general.
She stepped out on the porch as the sun was moving just past the mid-day spot. She looked up at it, shielding her eyes. Even if it was bright and warm, she thought it best to bring along the sweater. In case she was out past sundown. She would search for her parents. It was all she could think of to do.
She walked slowly down the road. Mr. Lewinsky rode past on his horse, going in the direction of his house. He passed her, giving her a suspicious look through narrowed eyes. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t question why an eleven year old girl, who looked like she needed food and a bath, was walking down the dirt road in the middle of the day.
She looked back at him defiantly. She wasn’t the mischievous brute her brother had been but she knew how to stand her ground. She was confident in herself. Her parents had tried to teach her to have as much inner strength as possible.
Becky continued to walk, peering on both sides of the road in case the coach had broken down. She walked and walked and walked. She walked until her feet hurt and her body felt tired. She decided to sit down when she was just a mile or so from the edge of town.
She dropped herself into the grass that ran up against the edge of the dirt road. She crossed her legs and began to play with the stalks of grass, pulling a few up and running them through her fingers.
Becky looked up at the road, first looking to her left, then her right. Should she go back into town and find her brother or an adult who would help her? She sat there pondering which decision she wanted to make.
To calm herself down, she sang a tune softly under her breath. It was something her mother had made up especially for her.
“When the sun goes down and I’m not around, always remember Momma loves you…” She sang.
CHAPTER ONE
SIXTEEN YEARS LATER
SIXTEEN YEARS LATER
Becky listened to the sound of her brother in the other room, taking a bath in the claw-footed iron tub. She had expected her life would have been much different than it had turned out to be. For the last sixteen years, Bruce had been taking care of her. He had raised her after the death of their parents from the age of eleven.
He raised her until she was eighteen. That’s when everything changed. When she turned eighteen, practically on her birthday, Bruce had decided his job was done and that repayment from Becky was required. The loss of her parents had shattered her young heart and changed her to her very core. No longer was she offered and freely given the unconditional love of both her mother and her father. She was now in the care of a bitter young man who wanted to live his life, follow his dreams. He didn’t want to be shackled to a little girl he barely knew and have to care for her on a daily basis.
The years that went by only served to strengthen his resentment. He never married, but it didn’t stop him from visiting the ladies at the brothel. He often told Becky if it wasn’t for her, he would have felt free to marry the woman he loved. However, she’d never seen him with any woman in particular, and had no idea who the “woman he loved” actually was.
She moved around the kitchen, dusting the counter tops and the tabletop. She ran a cloth over the length of the chairs, including the back and the legs. She didn’t like dust. She liked everything to be clean. Dust would make her sneeze and she hated sneezing.
When she was finished dusting the surfaces, she set the cloth down and grabbed the broom. Sweeping was always done after dusting because any particles that had been wiped off would have fallen to the floor.
She proceeded to sweep the kitchen in a methodical way. She had done this task every day since she was eleven years old. It was natural for her.
She tried to ignore the sounds coming from the washroom. She’d known from the moment she saw Bruce go in the room holding a towel in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other that it was a good idea to keep her distance.
Cleaning comforted and calmed her. She enjoyed it because it made everything around her look so polished and nice. Her mother’s dressing table, her father’s old gun display. She wanted everything to look as though her mother and father had just recently used it. The desire had not dimmed over the last sixteen years. She needed to make it seem as if they were just gone for a few days… as had been the original plan. When they left to go on their trip sixteen years ago, she didn’t know it would be the last goodbye she ever said to them.
She passed by the kitchen window and looked out. She propped up the broom in her hands and set her chin on them to gaze out at the bright sun. It was a warm day. They were just pulling out of a bad winter, where storm after storm disrupted the lives of the people of Wickenburg. She decided that going out on the porch and sweeping there would serve two purposes. It would make the porch clean and it would get her away from the sound of Bruce in the washroom, wailing like an injured cat. The drunker he got, the louder he got.
She should be used to it by now. He’d always been a heavy drinker. However, it seemed to her as though the last few years had been particularly tough on him. He was an extremely unhappy man. Then, he’d been an unhappy boy, so Becky was fairly certain it was just the personality God gave him. He was miserable. He was angry. He was bitter. He was filled with resentment. Most of those emotions were directed at her. He regularly blamed her for his failed life, saying he could have done better if he hadn’t been chained to a weak little girl.
In one fell swoop, Becky had gone from a nurturing, loving home where hugs were given daily and laughter was always the sound of the day to a cold, lonely home with no hugs and no laughter. Bruce’s drunken guffaws when he thought of something funny didn’t count in Becky’s mind.
It left her feeling so unloved.
Over the years, she h
ad taken that thought to heart and it had become so deeply ingrained in her that she had to prove herself worthy to anyone she encountered. She worked around the house, volunteered with the children at the schoolhouse, and helped with a local charity, the only charity house in Wickenburg. She babysat her neighbor’s children and would long for the day when she could raise her own child. Whenever that thought came to her mind, she would sneer at herself. You cannot have a family of your own, she would think to herself, if you don’t even have a man who loves you. And how can you find a man when you are always doing for Bruce? He will never grow up. You will be stuck here forever, alone and unhappy.
Becky sighed, setting about the task of sweeping the porch. She could still hear Bruce, but it was much more muffled.
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