Christmas Miracles: Mega Mail Order Bride 20-Book Box Set: Multi-Author Box Set

by Jenny Creek Tanner

It was still better than what waited for her in Philadelphia. The house wasn’t so bad, and once she got the hang of it she was certain she would be fine. First she needed to finish dinner.

  The recipe said she needed eggs. Elaine had shown her how to gather them yesterday. The chicken coop was the most unpleasant place she’d ever been. It smelled even worse than her casserole, and she felt the same gaze from the chickens as she had from her uncle’s partner. She had watched Elaine as she showed her how to kill, pluck and butcher a chicken. She dreaded the day that she would have to do it on her own.

  She grabbed a basket and headed outside. Storm clouds loomed overhead and she wrapped her arms around herself as a breeze blew. The July air was much colder than it had been, and she decided it must be from the gathering storm. She wondered if farmers worked in the rain.

  She decided to have his dinner ready early in case he decided to come in from the storm. She arrived at the coop in a few quick strides and inhaled sharply and held her breath and entered the stinky pen.

  She screamed as a chicken ran past her legs. The hens squawked in startled response to her outburst. She closed her eyes and gathered her courage. She could do this. They were small birds for goodness sake.

  Her eyes blinked open and she took in the small coop. There were several eggs buried throughout the straw. She grabbed three eggs and stashed them in her basket then hurried out. She swiped a hand over her forehead in relief, and walked back to the house.

  The wind had kicked up and she stumbled forward and nearly lost her balance. Huge drops of rain appeared as if by magic and beat down on her. She gasped at the sudden torrent of cold water that drenched her. Before she could gather her skirts up in her hands she tripped and fell.

  Annabelle screamed as the ground bit into her hands. The eggs flew from the basket and smashed on the hard ground. Streaks of yolk flowed into the tiny rivers of rainwater that formed in the dust. She was soaked from head to toe and she tried to stand. The sheer force of the wind made it hard for her to catch her balance.

  She resorted to crawl across the ground. She knew she had to get back to the house and out of this terrible storm. She’d never experienced anything like it before.

  “Annabelle?” David called.

  She was on all fours and turned her head to see David run toward her. She could barely make out his form against the pelting rain.

  “Annabelle!” He skidded to a stop before her and wrapped a strong arm around her waist and clasped her hand with the other. “I’ve got you,” he said as he helped her up.

  The wind blew violently and they both stumbled. Her heart beat furiously as fear consumed her. The house seemed to be miles away. The wind was so strong she worried it would blow them away. A bright flash of lightning was followed immediately by an ear-splitting clap of thunder.

  She gasped and ducked her head down as hail pelted her. Her skin burned as the hard balls of ice bit into her skin. David placed his forearm over her and tried to take the brunt of the impacts.

  “Stay close,” he instructed.

  She didn’t need to be told twice. Annabelle stumbled next to him as they both fought against the wind to get back inside. David tripped and fell up the steps, and she groaned as her hip bashed against the railing. David grasped her tighter and hauled them both up the steps and into the safety of the house.

  He shoved the door open and helped her inside, releasing her long enough to slam the door closed. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself to get warm.

  She was soaked from head to toe and mud stained her dress. Bits of straw and leaves stuck in her hair. Annabelle gasped for breath and she shook from both fear and cold.

  “Are you okay?” David asked crouching down next to her. He was drenched too.

  “I… I think so,” she stammered.

  David hugged her to him and breathed a heavy sigh. “What were you doing out there?”

  “I… I needed eggs for supper,” she whispered.

  “The storms out here are wicked. If you see the storm clouds don’t go outside,” he warned. “I’m glad you are okay.”

  “Were you hurt?” Annabelle asked turning to him.

  “No. No. I’m fine. I was so scared when I saw you fall. You’re sure you’re okay?” he worried, his eyes scouring over her.

  She nodded and leaned back into him. His embrace was safe and warm. Even though they didn’t see eye to eye, she was glad that she was here with him.

  “I’m sorry about the eggs, David,” she said, and his only response was to hug her tighter.

  Wedding Day

  David fidgeted as he stood at the front of the church. He wasn’t used to wearing anything but his comfortable, well-worn work clothes. Annabelle had insisted he wear it when she’d found the suit tucked in the back of his closet.

  The storm the day before had brought them closer together than they’d ever been, and he remembered how good she felt in his arms. He felt her shivers disappear as she buried her head in his chest, and he felt warm inside as well.

  “Mr. Abernathy? David?” Reverend Solomon tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you ready to begin the ceremony?”

  “Yes, certainly reverend,” he answered.

  The minister nodded toward the piano player and she began to play the processional. David looked toward the back of the church and waited for Annabelle to appear. A few of David’s friends and his farm hands were seated in the pews and they stood and turned to see why their friend was beaming.

  Annabelle had chosen a soft pink dress for her wedding. It was the best dress she owned, and she’d borrowed a tasteful white hat from Elaine to wear. It didn’t match, but it did have a veil, and that was one thing she imagined she’d be wearing in the youthful visions of her wedding.

  As they watched the distance close between them, they both understood that they were still very far apart.

  The minister began the ceremony and they went through the motions, answering when prompted. They exchanged their vows and the plain gold rings that David had bought for the occasion.

  But as the minister shared his thoughts on the sanctity of marriage, each of their minds were filled with unanswered questions. They stared into each other’s eyes and were lost in their own thoughts about the wisdom of this marriage.

  “Will she ever be the partner I need?”

  “Should I have stayed in Philadelphia and accepted my fate there?”

  “Will she learn to love me?”

  “Will he learn to love me?”

  Each of them had misgivings about the other, and they were shaken from their daydreams of impending regret by the good Reverend Solomon.

  “Ahem,” he cleared his throat and the cobwebs of doubt were shaken away.

  “I said, David you may now kiss your bride.”

  His hands trembled as he reached to lift the short veil, but it was too tight. Her sweet laugh resonated in the church and she took the hat from her head. Her deep brown eyes captivated him and she stood on her tip-toes.

  Annabelle felt the lips of a man she barely knew touch hers for the first time, and she welcomed his gentle kiss. She felt him smile and they turned and stood side by side as the minister introduced Mr. and Mrs. David Abernathy to the world.

  New Beginnings

  Annabelle kneaded the bread dough beneath her hands, working it to the correct consistency she’d learned from Elaine. She peered outside the window and smiled. She was trying to have the bread ready to cook before David got home for lunch. She had it ready for him on the table.

  It had taken her months to get the hang of things, but she finally had done it. The work was hard, and it consumed most of her day. It kept her busy and more content than she thought possible. In her old life, she’d often been bored and had nothing to do. That wasn’t a problem now.

  She enjoyed being busy. It was rewarding to enjoy the fruits of her labor. She’d learned so many new things in the year she’d lived with David.

  This afternoon she was g
oing with David to the fields. She wasn’t sure how big of a help she would be. Their crop was large this year and they stood to make a great deal if they were able to harvest it all on time. David had hired a few extra hands to help with the crop. The town was growing rapidly. News of the new train routes had brought new settlers, and with the train so close now it would make things much easier.

  She heard familiar footsteps as they thudded up the steps and onto the front stoop. She finished kneading the bread just as the front door swung open.

  “It sure smells good in here!” David complimented her as he glanced at the table.

  “I’ve made your favorite, David.” She walked to the table.

  “You’ve mastered the fried chicken. It looks delicious, Annabelle,” David said as he pulled the chair out for her and made sure she was situated before taking his spot at the table.

  “I think I have,” she agreed. David had been true to his word. Once he realized she was trying her best to do the daily chores and cooking, he’d been happy. She fed him slop too many nights to count, but he’d ate it willingly, proud of her for at least making the attempt. With a lot of help from Mrs. Parker she’d finally found a solid footing. It had taken her months to get the timing and measurements correct on certain dishes. She smiled to herself. In the last year she’d come so far, and learned so many wonderful things.

  “You seem happy today,” David said around a bite of chicken.

  “I am,” she agreed. “I have much to be happy about.”

  “Oh?” he asked. He raised his eyebrow with his question.

  “I have a loving husband, a wonderful home, and…” she trialed off, nibbling her lip. Would now be the right time to tell him?

  “And what, Mrs. Abernathy?”

  “We are going to start a family.” Her face glowed with a smile bright as the sun.

  “A family? We are going to have a…” He gulped and dropped his fork on the table.

  She nodded and laughed and her eyes filled with tears. David jumped from his chair and tugged her out of her seat and into a tight embrace. Her feet lifted from the floor as he twirled her around in small circles.

  “A baby, yes David.” He set her down and wiped her tears.

  “I’m going to be a father?” He pulled her close again and hugged her.

  “I thought you’d be pleased,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. She cupped his face in her hand and felt the warmth of his tears.

  “Nothing could make me happier. I love you so much, Annabelle.”

  She leaned back and looked into his eyes and they told him she loved him, too.

  Book 5 - Music For His Heart: A Meant-To-Be Mail Order Brides Western Romance

  Jenny Creek Tanner

  All In A Letter

  Light filtered in through the tall windows lining the walls of the church. Dust motes did a slow dance in the air as Clara Thomas awaited the arrival of her last pupil. While she waited, her fingers traced the cool ivory keys in front of her. It had been over three months since she’d been forced to sacrifice her one remaining, precious possession to stay out of debt. The regret of having to part with the piano she inherited from her mother still gnawed at her. Memories of long-ago melodies played while seated at her mother’s side floated through her mind, and she felt the vise of guilt squeeze a tear from her eye.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud bang of a slammed door at the back of the church, and the sound of footsteps pounded toward her. A soft smile parted her lips as she watched the little boy skid to a stop in front of her.

  “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. Thomas.” The boy’s golden hair flew in every possible direction and he chewed on the corner of his lip.

  “That’s all right, Robert.” She gave him a smile and he stopped biting his lip. “Just remember that being on time for your lessons is an important skill to master.” He nodded and he frowned at the soft chastisement.

  “I would have been here on time, but Pa told me he had a letter for you and I had to wait for him to get it so I could give it to ya.”

  “A letter you say? Do you have it with you?” Clara’s stomach did a nervous flip and she smoothed her hands over her dress. She tried to hide the effort to take a moment to compose herself in front of her pupil.

  “’Course,” he said. “I took special care of it.” He pulled the crumpled letter from his back pocket and handed it to Clara. She took the letter from Robert and her hands trembled when she saw the familiar script. He had written her back.

  “Thank you, Robert. You did very well.” She trucked the letter into her satchel and turned her full attention back to her student. “Let’s begin our lesson, shall we?”

  The little boy took his place on the piano bench and wiggled his fingers over the keyboard before resting them in the ready position to play his scales. With painstaking care, and a tongue at the corner of his mouth he played the C scale.

  Clara tried to focus on her young student, offering critiques when necessary, but as Robert played through the normal routine of basic scales, her thoughts drifted to the letter tucked away in her satchel. In some ways she felt it determined her fate.

  The memory of his strong, bold script as it flowed across the pages of his letters made her smile. Ezra Boone wasn’t a romantic man by most standards, but the kind words in his letters tugged at her heart. In some ways they reminded her of the bold and determined way Charles used to speak, but Charles had rarely said much that tugged at her heart. Ezra’s words were full of meaning and had a softness her husband’s hadn’t possessed when he’d been alive. She loved Charles and loved being his wife, but it hadn’t always been easy. Since his death two years ago, Clara still felt the occasional pang of grief when she was alone. She missed him but she had to move on. It was the only thing left for her to do.

  “Is that right, Mrs. Thomas?” Robert asked. His face was the picture of concentration as he played two notes of his scale over and over again. “Don’t sound right.”

  “What?”

  “My scale don’t sound right. Did I do it right?” She blinked and shook her head and came back to the present.

  “My scale doesn’t sound correct, Robert.” She corrected his speech and he scowled at her and then smiled.

  “Your scale doesn’t sound correct, Mrs. Thomas.” He emphasized the same words and she laughed and patted him on the head.

  “Very good. And no, dear. Your first and fourth fingers need to go up to F-sharp for a G scale.”

  “Oh, gottcha.” He turned his focus back to the piano, played the two correct notes a few times in a row and continued on.

  With the corrected notes floating in the air, she pondered her situation. If Ezra asked her to marry him and she accepted, she knew it would mean leaving Providence and everything she had ever known. It would also mean leaving her students and her heart dropped at that thought.

  She stepped to the side and observed Robert finishing the A scale without any mistakes. He had come so far in only four months of lessons and she saw a genuine talent in the little boy. He was one of two remaining students, and the reality of making a living teaching piano had come to an end for her.

  She answered Ezra’s advertisement for a mail-order-bride as her last hope to escape to a new and better life, and nervous flutters danced in her stomach. She needed to read Ezra’s letter.

  Ezra Boone stood in the parlor and tried to look everywhere but out the window, but it was no use. The post was certain to come soon. He heard the call of the train whistle fifteen minutes ago, but Joseph was still nowhere to be seen.

  The parlor’s stuffy air felt constricting and he adjusted the collar of his shirt. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. Through her letters she made it clear that her circumstances were dire and that his advertisement had come at the exact time needed. He was sure Clara would accept the invitation to be his bride, and he hoped her next letter he would confirm it.

  Ezra glanced out the window again and the street was deserted. If his calculat
ions were correct, he should receive a reply today. Clara’s last letter lay opened on his desk and he picked it up to read it one more time. It was his idea to correspond to see if they seemed to be compatible, but he couldn’t but feel uneasy about this entire idea. Her eager agreement and suggestion that they should trade letters for at least three months had lessened his uneasiness. His experience in the banking business taught him one thing...if something seems too good to be true, it always was. If she was trying to swindle him, she probably wouldn’t want to wait for at least three months. The sound of horse’s hooves pounding the pavement drew his attention to the window. Finally!

  “Joseph,” Ezra said as he opened the front door.

  “Letter for you Mr. Boone.” Joseph was no older than fourteen and Ezra ignored the grin on the boy’s face as he took the letter from him.

  “Thank you,” Ezra said.

  “Got anything to go out in the mail this week?”

  Ezra weighed his options. He could wait to read her letter and craft a careful reply, or he could read it now and respond immediately. He was typically prone to careful consideration and planning, but something inside told him that an impulsive reply might be the best.

  “Can you spare a few minutes while I write a reply?”

  The boy considered the request, though only briefly. “’Course, Mr. Boone. Mind if I water my horse while I wait?”

  “That will be fine, Joseph.”

  The boy took the reins and led his dusty horse behind him. Ezra held the letter in his hands as if they held a fragile creature. It held more significance than he wanted to admit. Between the day he posted his advertisement and the day he’d received Clara’s well-crafted response, something had changed in him. It was subtle and yet impossible to ignore. His heart told him it was time to move on.

  His late wife Grace was never far from his thoughts since her death three years earlier. His large house felt empty, and the time he did spend there was only to eat and sleep. He made a good living as a banker, but money meant nothing with no one to share it with.