“But it’s winter now.”
“I know,” she said, leaning back to look at him again. She had to voice her thoughts. “I-I think she’s afraid.”
“Of what?” his brow wrinkled as he tried to understand.
“Of saying it out loud. Of it being true.”
She watched as the reality of the situation sunk in. He stood there, his eyes searching nothingness before him. What was he thinking? Why wouldn’t he say anything?
“I-I need to go to the barn.”
“The…the barn?” she asked, confused.
“To feed the animals. I’ll be back.” Without a backward glance he left the room.
She was alone again. Had she done the right thing by telling him? She knew it had to come as a shock, but she couldn’t stand for Andrew to go through the motions of each day without knowing the time with his mother could be more limited than even she realized.
Lord, bring them together.
Her prayer was heartfelt, but there was more she wanted to ask, though she almost didn’t feel the right. They had kissed, but what did it mean? She had shared difficult news with him, but was it too much to hope that he had feelings for her? That the kiss symbolized a change in his mind, and perhaps his heart?
Chapter 7
Andrew gave in to a burst of hot, angry tears in the barn. He hated crying—hated feeling vulnerable with emotion—but what Harriet had said struck too close to his heart to ignore. First his father’s death and now his mother was sick? It wasn’t fair.
Then again, this wasn’t about him, it was about the fact that his mother needed him and he hadn’t been there. Why had he thought the ranch was more important than his relationship with her? Why had he allowed himself to be so distracted?
It was because working the ranch meant he didn’t have time to think or feel. He didn’t have to deal with the fact that he missed his Pa and that he didn’t know how to comfort Ma. She always wanted to talk about the past, and that hurt. Andrew wanted to move on, to forget what had happened in order not to open fresh wounds.
He slumped onto a hay bale. The animals were fed and cared for but he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back out. To see his mother. To see Harriet.
The memory of her kiss flooded him with warmth despite the frigid conditions of the barn. He couldn’t believe he’d given in to their kiss. Then again, it had felt like the right decision at the time.
Here he was, yards away from his loving mother and a woman who very likely could learn to love him, and he was hiding like a scared little boy in the barn. Afraid of what loving someone else could do to him—to the hurt it could open him up to.
Standing, he walked over to his horse and rubbed his hand along the white blaze between the animal’s eyes.
“What am I supposed to do? Huh?”
The silence answered back to him.
The door to the barn burst open, snow flying in with the gust of air.
“Harriet?”
She nearly tripped coming in, his mother’s oversized coat dwarfing her small frame. “Andrew?”
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He rushed to her, helping her stand steady in the large boots she’d worn across the yard. The hem of her skirt was covered in snow and she shivered from head to foot. “We need to get you back inside.”
“I-I had to come. You—your mother is sick. She wouldn’t wake up. You have to come!”
He took in the information and fear gripped him. “Let’s get back.”
She merely nodded and he wrapped a protective arm around her as they forged their way back to the safety and warmth of the house. It took much too long to make it across the yard, but finally they pushed in the door to the house in a rush of wind and snow.
“Warm up by the fire, I’ll see to her.”
She looked like she was going to protest, but she was shaking so much he merely needed to point to the fire before she obeyed.
He tossed his coat and hat off and rushed to the back of the house where his mother’s room was. Gently opening the door, he slid in and stoked the fire before sitting near the bed. She didn’t stir but lay there looking pale.
“Ma,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. He gripped her hand in his two cool ones and bent his head down. “Forgive me.” He felt the weight of emotion sink across his shoulders. “I’ve been gone too long. I-I’ve been an awful son and—”
“Nonsense.” Her soft voice came out barely above a whisper and his eyes shot to hers.
“Ma! Are you okay? Do you need something? What can I get you?”
She squeezed his hand in hers, though weakly, and managed a small smile. “I’ll be all right.” Her breath came slowly but deeply. “I just need rest.”
“Ma,” he started, but he didn’t know what to say. The truth. “Ma, I’ve been afraid. I missed Pa so much and when I was busy with the ranch I didn’t have to think about that. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t spend more time with you.”
“I know.” She managed a smile. “I knew you needed to deal with his death in your own way. I’ve just missed you, son.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He let the tears fall again and rested his head on the bed.
Her hand, worn with years of work in the garden and kitchen, rested lightly on his hair and for the first time since his father’s death he felt peace.
Harriet stepped quietly from the room. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt but had overheard the tail end of Andrew’s confession to his mother. Her heart swelled with pride at the fact that he had realized the effect of his actions. She prayed that the healing between him and his mother would be swift and, should God allow, they could enjoy at least one more Christmas together.
Later that afternoon Andrew finally came out and explained that he wanted them to take shifts staying with his mother. She’d readily agreed and they’d spent the day in relative quiet.
The next few days went by in a blur of sleeping on and off and keeping careful watch over Ma. She seemed to be improving but it was difficult to tell. She had seemed better, but not fully herself.
Harriet walked to the window and looked out. Another storm was almost upon them. Andrew had almost left for town and the doctor, but she’d convinced him to stay. Ma was better, just not fully well.
“How are you?” Andrew stood with one shoulder against the door jam, arms crossed and hair mussed.
“Me? How are you? Did you stay up all night?”
He shook his head and pushed off the wall. “No, though I could benefit from some strong coffee.”
“It’s already prepared.” She poured him a cup and handed it to him. When his fingers brushed hers a jolt of heat raced up her arm.
They still hadn’t talked about their kiss, but it wasn’t the time. All of his focus and energy was directed rightly toward his mother. She had almost convinced herself that what had happened between had been a one-time occurrence.
Andrew took a deep drink from the mug then leveled his gaze at her. “Thank you.”
“For what?” She felt heat fill her cheeks at his intense gaze and close proximity.
“For all you’ve done for Ma. I know…” he trailed off, dropping his gaze. “I know she brought you here under somewhat of false pretenses and I know you didn’t sign up for any of this. If you want—”
“Stop.” She gently rested her hand on his arm. “I care for her too. I want nothing more than for her to regain her heath.”
“I know you do.” He took a step toward her, his eyes searching hers. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“It is I who is the lucky one.”
He knew of her past and her voyage to America, so she knew that he would understand her gratitude. They had actually gotten to know one another well, spending many of their days and nights talking just above a whisper in Ma’s room.
“Just know that…that I appreciate you.”
She rewarded his words with a genuine smile. He slowly reached up and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his gaze never leaving he
rs. She wanted so badly for him to say something to her—to tell her how he felt—but he dropped his hand and turned back toward his mother’s room.
“Why don’t you rest? I’ll stay with her for now.”
She merely nodded, not trusting her voice, as he disappeared out of the room. Her lungs expanded, as if released from a spell, and she took in a deep breath.
What was Andrew thinking?
Chapter 8
Andrew fell asleep, his head resting on his arms on his mother’s bed, until he was jolted awake by movement. He jerked upright but Ma’s hand stretched out.
“I’m fine son.”
He yawned, blinking rapidly. By the look of the light coming in the window it was early morning. He stood and stoked the fire, adding a log to bring it back to life, and then he returned to his post. His mother’s eyes followed him.
“Do you need something?”
“For you to stop fawning over me.”
He smiled, realizing that her humor was coming back. That was a good sign. “You know I can’t do that yet.”
She shook her heart. “Son, I’m on the mend. I’ll be fine.”
“I know.” His words held a double meaning that his mother instantly caught on to.
“Know what, Andrew?”
He’d wanted to have this conversation with her for days now, but he hadn’t wanted to tax her. For some reason, on this cold, snowy morning, he wanted to confide in her.
“Harriet told me you are sick. And not just temporarily. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She let out a sigh and pulled the covers up. “I didn’t want to worry you. There was so much to be done.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have worked so much.”
“What’s done is done, but I can tell you one thing,” she gripped his hand with strong fingers, “I know now is not my time.”
He felt relief flood through him. “You’re feeling better then?”
“Much,” she said, grinning. “And just in time, I think.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“For one thing, it’s Christmas.” She gave him a knowing smile. “And secondly, it’s about time you owned up for your feelings for Harriet. And don’t try and tell me otherwise. I’ve listened to you two whispering back and forth for days now. You’re in love with her and I want you to stop denying it.”
His eyes widened. “You were asleep.”
“Hardly. Couldn’t get a wink in with you two yammering.” She smiled, softening her words. “But do you see it, Andrew?”
“See what?” His heart hammered in his chest at his mother’s words. Was she right?
“See that she’s the one for you and she always has been?”
He took a moment to think. He hadn’t allowed himself to think any more about Harriet in light of taking care of Ma, but with her on the mend it did change things.
“I…I think I do.”
“It’s about time,” she said, laughing. “Now go talk to her. Don’t waste another minute. Andrew, remember this—life is precious and you should never take advantage of your time. Never.”
Her words rang with a truth he was only just now beginning to understand. Filled with sudden urgency, he stood.
“I think you’re right.”
“Course I am,” she said, grinning. “Now go on.”
He nodded once, the turned to the door. It was time to stop running from his feelings and to start admitting them.
Harriet sat in the front room by the fire. She’d fallen asleep after checking on Andrew and his mother in the early morning hours. They had both been asleep, and she’d sat down to pray and had soon fallen asleep as well.
Andrew’s heavy footfalls broke into her tired mind and she sat up, pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders.
“Good morning,” she said, seeing a strange look on his face. It was a combination of determination and excitement. “Is Ma doing better?”
“She is,” he said, coming to stand in front of her.
She craned her neck up, trying to decipher his mood.
“I need to talk with you.”
“All right,” she said, hesitantly. What was this about?
He held out his hands and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. When she was standing before him he didn’t release her hands but instead took a step toward her. His eyes searched hers and she found it hard to breathe.
“Harriet…” he trailed off, his eyebrows drawing together in concentration. “I'm sorry.”
“For what?” She tried to understand what he had to be sorry for but couldn’t think of anything.
“For not realizing sooner that I cared for you.”
Surprise shot through her. He cared? Was he really telling her this, or was she still dreaming?
“I’ve been foolish and…afraid. I didn’t want to let anyone else in because I know how much caring for someone hurts.” His voice cracked and he sent a glance back down the hall toward his mother’s room. “But that’s no way to live.”
She pressed her lips together, wanting to say something but sensing he needed to finish his thoughts.
“I’ve seen how you take care of Ma and how you care for me—even when I’m being foolish. I’m sorry for pushing you away. And…I want you to know that I love you.”
The scent of the small fir tree in the corner filled the room and the fire blazed bright at their side. It was the perfect morning—the perfect moment—to hear his words.
She stepped closer, grasping his hands more tightly. “I love you too, Andrew. Though I never expected to hear you to say that to me.”
It was his turn to look surprised. “Really?”
“You’re stubborn.”
He laughed. “And so are you.”
“Merry Christmas, Andrew.”
“It is Christmas, isn’t it?”
She smiled and he bent down and kissed her, wrapping her up in his arms, his embrace warmer than any fire. She felt safe and wanted there in his arms.
Leaning back her touched his forehead to hers and whispered, “Merry Christmas, dear Harriet.”
Epilogue
February 1867
“There’s still frost on the ground,” Ma pointed out, her disapproving look melting when Harriet stepped from around the corner in her new dress. “Goodness, child.”
“Do I look all right?”
Ma shook her head, covering her mouth with a shaky hand. “You look perfect.”
“Do you think Andrew will like the dress?”
“He’d like you in a flour sack,” Ma said, chuckling. “Now let’s get you to the back of the church. It’s about time to start the ceremony.”
“Will you make it to your seat all right?”
Ma smiled, patting Harriet’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m not in the grave yet. I’ll be just fine.”
Harriet stood in position and watched Ma make her way down the aisle to the front. There weren’t many seats filled, but all Harriet cared about was seeing her groom at the end of the walkway. There may be frost outside, but there was enough warmth of love in her heart to melt anything.
The organ music began to play and she stepped down the aisle, her eyes locking with Andrew’s the moment she could see him.
He had changed since telling her of his love. Though his mind was on the good of the ranch, Harriet and his mother came first. Ma had declined only slightly in heath, but she was still strong—stronger than the doctor had imagined—and she had insisted that life continue as normal.
Today though, nothing else could distract Harriet from committing to a lifetime of love to the man she had fancied from the moment he walked into the kitchen.
She reached the front of the church and they joined hands. The pastor spoke but her mind was focused on Andrew.
He vowed to honor and cherish her until death parted them, and she knew how much the words would be a struggle for him. Unshed tears shown in his eyes, but his grip was strong and his voice solid. She promised t
he same and they sealed the vows with a kiss.
Time slowed and she savored the fact that she had been homeless and lost, alone in a new country, but the Lord’s hand had been in her journey west. He had provided for her beyond what she could have imagined.
“My dear Harriet,” Andrew said, pulling back slightly. He locked eyes with her as he made his last promise of the day. “I will love you forever.”
“And I you.”
Another kiss sealed their own promises together and, walking hand in hand, they stepped down from the altar and into the next chapter of their story—creating a home and a life together.
Book 3 - A Christmas Bride for Cowboy Charlie
From The Mail Order Brides of Haven, Arizona Series
Jenny Creek Tanner
Chapter 1
New York City | April 1868
Pearl Edmonton clutched the advertisement in her trembling hand. She smoothed her other hand over her dress, letting it rest on her abdomen for a moment. The last few days were a blur, and everything that had happened had her second-guessing herself, as if she was living in some strange, awful dream.
“Pearl,” a voice called out behind her in the midst of the busy boardwalk.
Turning, she saw the face of her closest friend. “Collette, what are you doing here?”
“I—I heard the news.” Her friend’s delicate features clouded with grief. “Are you—is everything…I mean, how are you?”
Pearl looked back down at the paper in her hand, clutched like a lifeline. How was she? Terrible. Awful. Lost.
“I’m doing all right.”
“How can I help you? There has to be something I can do?”
Pearl shook her head. “No, dear friend. I’ve taken care of everything for now. The funeral will be in a few days but I couldn’t afford much.” The lump in her throat crowded out her words.
“It’ll be all right. I’ll be there.” Collette gripped her hand more tightly causing Pearl’s gaze to meet hers. “Pearl, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
Christmas Miracles: Mega Mail Order Bride 20-Book Box Set: Multi-Author Box Set Page 7