Mail Order Miranda (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 20)

by Jenna Brandt

  “I know we are,” Miranda agreed. “And we’re also blessed because we have all of you in our lives. I never knew I could be this happy.”

  “I’m so excited to be pregnant at the same time. Can you believe we’re going to have babies that grow up together?” Judy beamed with joy. “This really is the best news ever.”

  “I know; you were my first friend here in Rockwood Springs, and now we get to share having our first pregnancies at the same time.”

  “Emmett and I are just starting to talk about having children,” Naomi Moreley stated with slight trepidation in her voice. “With Emmett traveling for work so much, a lot of the child rearing would be left up to me. I have to make sure I’m ready to take that all on by myself.” Naomi’s husband was a Texas Ranger. He had to go wherever the job dictated, often times being gone for weeks at a time. “When I’m finally ready, I’ll be asking all of you lots of questions about what to do.”

  “And we’ll be here for you,” Miranda assured her. “That’s what friends are for.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. Miranda enjoyed her time with their friends, but by the time the party was over, she was exhausted.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Cade offered as he took a stack of dishes from her hand and carried them over to the wash basin. He sat down and started to scrub them.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, reaching up and patting her belly. “I need to take care of you and our baby. I don’t want you passing out on me again.”

  “That was a one-time thing because I didn’t know I was pregnant,” Miranda corrected. “It won’t happen again. I’m taking care of myself, and the baby.”

  “I know, but I can also help you if I want to.”

  She decided it wasn’t worth arguing about, and considering how tired she was, she should just take the help that was offered.

  The boys ran up to them, covered in mud. “We went lookin’ for frogs,” Ezra smiled with a toothy grin.

  “Look, we got one,” Isaiah said, pulling it out from behind his back and shoving it into the pocket of Miranda’s skirt.

  She could feel it squirming around, pushing against her leg as it tried to climb out. She started to scream and shake, jumping up and down with her arms flaying around, not knowing what to do.

  The boys’ eyes grew round with fright as they took off towards the house, Miranda assumed to hide in their room. She didn’t have time to think about that too much, as all she wanted to do was be free from her unwanted present.

  “Let me get it,” Cade offered, coming over and placing his hand inside her pocket. He felt around until he grabbed hold of it and yanked it out of her skirt.

  “Get rid of it,” Miranda commanded, pointing towards the grass.

  Cade made quick work of releasing the frog back into the wild. He returned with a wry grin on his face. “Sorry about that, Miranda, the boys meant for that to be a nice gift. They love frogs.”

  “I know, I just wasn’t expecting one to be shoved into my skirt.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Just a little shaken up from the whole thing.”

  “Do we need to go visit Doc?”

  She shook her head with a laugh. “We don’t need to go visit Dr. Ramsey every time something happens around here. I’m fine.”

  “Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He moved towards her and pulled her into his arms. “Because it’s my goal in life to keep you safe and happy.”

  “Well you’re doing a terrific job of it,” she assured him. “I couldn’t feel more safe or happy than I do right now.”

  “That’s all I need to hear.” Cade leaned down and kissed Miranda on the lips. She let herself melt into his arms, knowing that she was going to spend the rest of her life married to the man she loved, and who loved her in return. She couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Sneak Peak of Mail Order Misfit

  Dakota Territory, 1885

  The sprawling Great Plains of North America continued to pass by through the window of the train. The steep, flat-topped hills, better known as buttes, dominated the landscape of the James River Valley. Soon Cara McGregor would be arriving in the town of Mitchell, where her whole life would change forever.

  She read the letter from her future husband another time, still trying to accept that she was traveling out West to meet the man willing to marry her. James Cassidy sounded like a good man, a man she could find contentment with, since love wasn’t in the cards for her.

  Considering her reputation back in her hometown of Hull, Massachusetts, she was glad the man hadn’t requested to know more about her family situation. It wasn’t good. She left behind a place filled with Irish folk from the Old Country, whom by the end of her time in Hull, treated her like a leper because of what happened with her parents.

  She wished she could have gone back to that day and been at the house when her mother was killed. If she had seen what happened instead of being off with her beau, the townspeople wouldn’t have blamed her father and hung him two months later for the crime.

  She not only lost her parents that day, but her beau along with any future prospects of marriage, since everyone in town viewed her as the spawn of the devil himself. It was as if everyone forgot what a good man her father had been; looking out for his neighbors, helping at the church, and taking care of his family.

  The little money her parents had saved ran out by the end of the second month. She couldn’t get a job for the same reasons as she couldn’t land a husband. All that was left was to start over somewhere else, and she remembered that Josephine Little had found a groom out West through a mail-order advertisement. With nothing left to lose, Cara found herself scouring The Matrimonial Times.

  She could still remember the words of Mr. Cassidy’s advert in the newspaper. Needed, Wife. South Dakota widower seeks a kind, faithful woman to run his household on his farm, to support his work, and rear his three children. Due to conditions in the rural area, only a strong, diligent woman of fortitude and grit need reply.

  Cara should have dismissed it out of hand, considering she had no business doing any of the work he required, but something about the unspoken plea in the request pulled at Cara’s heart. She needed a new life, and she could help this man while gaining one. What could it hurt to answer?

  Two letters and a month later, she was headed out West with only two bags, and her gumption to make the marriage work. She hoped she was able to live up to her new family’s expectations, though she had little experience in running a household or mothering children. Her best example was her own mother, who had been loving, helpful, and always there for her. She hoped to provide the same care for her new wards. She was resolved to be the best match for Mr. Cassidy, rather than just a misfit for his family.

  Deciding she could use some air, Cara stood from her seat in the car she shared with a family and a widow traveling to Oregon. She slipped the letter into her pocket, and made her way towards the back of the train. She was about to exit through the back door, when a man came up and blocked her path.

  “Why aren’t you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” the man said with a wag of his eyebrows. He reached out and grabbed a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. “I’ve always had an inkling for redheads.”

  She shrank back, not liking how close the man was, or the fact he felt justified enough to touch her. “I’ll just be going now,” she said, trying to push past him to return from the way she came.

  Putting out his arm to block her path, he observed, “I thought you were headed to the back of the train? No one’s around by the way, so we have the whole section to ourselves.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Cara declared, raising her chin in defiance, while trying to muster her bravest face.

  “You needn’t hurry off on my account,” the man said, leaning in towards her until she could smell the repugnant odor of liquor on his breath
. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Well, I don’t,” she stated tartly. “I have people waiting for me back in my car.”

  “I don’t think so, missy. I’ve been watching you for a while, and you’re traveling alone. Ain’t no one worrying about your whereabouts. I doubt anyone would care what happens to you,” he snarled, pushing his body against hers as his hand started to roam all over her body.

  “Don’t touch me,” she screamed, squirming against him in anger. “Get your hands off me.”

  “Did I tell you, that’s my favorite part about redheads? Nothin’ more appealin’ than a redhead’s temper. I love it when they get all feisty,” he said with a leering grin of pleasure.

  Cara froze, realizing that this man wanted her to fight him. It made him excited, and that was the last thing she wanted to encourage.

  As she stood perfectly still, she slowly moved her hand down her side. She finally reached the strap inside the hidden insert of her pocket where she carried a small knife. She whipped it out as fast she could, pushing it towards the man’s chest.

  “If you don’t get away from me right now, I’m going to make you a new hole.”

  The man’s eyes grew wide in shock for a few moments before he narrowed them in anger. “Are you sure you can use that knife, missy? I’m bettin’ you’ve never stabbed a man. It’s messy, with a lot of blood.” He reached out and tried to grab the knife from her, but she dodged his reach.

  “It’s better than the alternative,” she shouted. “I won’t have you ruin me.”

  “Can’t ruin something that’s already tarnished,” he barked out. “You wouldn’t be traveling all alone if you were a good woman.”

  The man lunged at her again. This time his hand made contact with hers, causing them to wrestle for control of the knife. She was about to lose her grip on the hilt when a group of miners entered the car.

  “What’s going on here?” one of the men shouted with a look of shock on his face.

  Her attacker looked fearful for the briefest of moments before he accused, “This thief tried to rob me. I was coming out back to get some air, when she tried to pickpocket me. When I confronted her, she pulled a knife on me.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Cara protested. “I was the one coming out back to get air when he accosted me. He had vile intentions, so I had to pull my knife to protect myself.”

  “What respectable woman would need to carry a knife around?” the attacker countered. “Only someone who has a devious nature.”

  “I’m traveling alone, so I brought one of my father’s knives along for protection,” Cara said, trying to explain away how bad the situation looked on her part.

  She could tell from the miners’ looks, they doubted her story, and her explanation sounded ridiculous even to her own ears.

  “Perhaps one of us should go get the conductor to sort this matter out,” a second man suggested.

  “I think that’s a good idea. I would like to tell him all about how this thief behaved,” her attacker stated with confidence. “She’ll hang for trying to kill me. I’ll make sure of it.”

  A shiver crawled up Cara’s back as she realized this man wanted to make her pay for not getting his way with her. If she didn’t escape right now, she was going to end up dangling from a hangman’s noose. Glancing out the window, she realized they were slowing down as they approached a set of curves on the rail line. If she jumped off the train now, she’d only suffer a few bumps and bruises, a much better alternative.

  Without another thought, Cara turned and rushed towards the door. She swung it open, and flung herself through it. For just a split second, she paused as she came to the edge of the iron railing. Knowing she had no choice, she climbed over and threw herself from the side.

  The left side of her body met the ground with a hard thud, right before she started rolling down the small hill. She could feel the dirt and rocks tearing at her flesh; however, she made herself ignore the pain and focus on getting as far away from the train as possible. If she got arrested, it would end badly for her. No one at home would vouch for her, considering her family’s history, and some would even say that it made sense that she turned out just like her father. She would be assumed guilty simply because of her family’s past.

  The shouts of the men from the train echoed around Cara as she rushed along the bank of the James River. Slowly, they faded as she slipped away into her surroundings, praying she would find some way to survive out in the frontier wilderness.

  Sneak Peak of Discreetly Matched

  May, 1883

  Little Ridge, Arizona

  Julia Bennett couldn’t believe the words spilling from her father’s lips. They sounded completely foreign, as if they were meant for someone else. How was she to understand that the life she had planned with the man she adored was no longer an option?

  Though her father was trying to explain what happened, all that kept resonating in her head was the horrid new truth: Timothy was dead. She would never see his face again. She would never walk down the aisle and promise in front of family and friends to share her life with him. How was she supposed to accept a life that didn’t include Timothy?

  “This can’t be right,” Julia stated in denial as she shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce on top of her head. “I was set to see Timothy this evening. We’re going to the theater.”

  “Yes, dear, but his carriage’s wheel came off as he was leaving a business meeting,” her father stated as he tried to suppress a cough. Leaning back in his opulently overstuffed, upholstered chair, he blinked several times before finishing. “There was nothing that could be done.”

  She squeezed her blue eyes shut and pressed her hands together in her lap. When she opened them again, she would realize all of this was a terrible nightmare. Timothy would be alive, she would be relieved, and ready to be his wife in two weeks, just like they planned.

  “Is she comprehending what you’re telling her, Martin?” Julia heard her Aunt Claire ask beside her. “She appears catatonic. Should we call for the doctor?”

  “No, no, we need to handle this matter discreetly,” her father stated firmly. “We don’t want any potential suitors to hear gossip that she’s mentally fragile.”

  Potential suitors? What was he talking about? Julia would never marry anyone now that Timothy was dead. She would rather die an old spinster than be with anyone besides the man she loved.

  “Can I be excused? I feel ill,” Julia whispered, wishing to flee the floral-decorated parlor and find refuge in her suite of rooms. She couldn’t stand hearing her father and aunt so coldly discuss her bleak new future.

  The pounding in her head had increased to a point she thought she might pass out, but she didn’t care. Blackness would be a welcome relief instead of the overwhelming despair she felt.

  Without waiting for dismissal, Julia stood up from the sofa, gathered the skirts of her dress, and rushed from the room. She hurried up the stairs, barely able to see through the blinding tears. All she wanted to do was sink into the piles of blankets on her bed and never re-emerge. Nothing made sense, and she had no idea what she was going to do, now that her life was over.

  Edwin Clarke couldn’t believe his good fortune. The cards in his hand ensured he was going to have a profitable night; a grateful turn from his previous nights at the exclusive casino. The amount of money he had lost over the past couple of years would have bankrupted most men. Lucky for Ed, he was the heir to a massive ranch.

  Money had been of little consequence to him most of his life. He viewed it as a means to gratify passing whims rather than to provide necessities of life.

  “Gentlemen, tonight, luck is on my side,” Ed stated as he proudly placed his trio of queens and two nines on the table. “Full house, queens over nines.”

  Several grunts sounded around the table from the other men as Ed reached out to collect his winnings. Before he could rake them in though, a hand snaked out to stop him.

 
; Ed’s eyes met those of fellow rancher’s son, Bill Hensley. The man’s smug smile instantly made Ed realize he had been mistaken about his hand being the best at the table.

  “Not so fast, Ed, I believe my four jacks beat your full house.”

  Ed suppressed the growl and string of curse words he wished to utter, knowing it would only show how irritated he was by the other man beating him. Instead, he retracted his hand and made a flicking motion with it. “Trifle winning, anyhow.”

  “Is it though?” the Bill probed. “From the whisperings I’ve heard, you could use any windfall you could get your hands on, considering your family’s financial situation.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ed asked, his brows furrowing together in confusion.

  “Bill, don’t repeat such baseless gossip,” the other elderly man at the table rebuked with a frown. “Let me reassure you, that Ed’s father has just as solid a bank account as he does a reputation.”

  “I’m sure you know much better than me,” Bill conceded with a nod. “I’ve been across the country at university until recently. Pardon my indiscretion of repeating misinformation.”

  Ed debated about questioning the other man about what he had heard exactly, but decided it would be better to drop the subject. He didn’t want the other man to know he had struck a nerve with him. Maintaining a neutral reaction was more important than finding out what was being said about his family. There were plenty of private investigators that could get the information if he wanted.

  Deciding he had enough of the other man’s company, not to mention his pocket money was spent for the night, Ed stood from the table. He picked up his coat and hat. “Thank you for the company tonight, but I need to be going. I have a busy morning ahead of me.”

  The young man chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt that, Ed. Everyone knows your aim is to do as little as possible when it comes to anything of true substance.”