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

by Jenny Creek Tanner

  Ezra ripped open the seal and read the four words written in her perfect penmanship above her signature.

  “Sweet and to the point,” he whispered with a smile. “I accept your proposal. Clara”

  The Wedding

  Clara took a steadying breath as she looked at her reflection in the warped surface of the old mirror. She decided to wear the best dress she owned, though the faded gingham pattern looked old and worn to her.

  “Don’t you look lovely?” Pastor Brighton’s wife smiled at Clara in the mirror as she rested her hands on Clara’s shoulders. “Are you nervous, my dear?”

  Clara wasn’t sure how to respond. She and Ezra had spoken no more than a few words before she was ushered back into this small room to change her clothes. It was hard to believe it was her wedding day once again.

  “Yes. A little.”

  “Well, dear, I can tell you that Ezra Boone is a kind and generous man. The two of you will be very happy, I’m sure.” The older woman’s kindness radiated from her eyes and Clara felt a wave of relief.

  “Thank you Mrs. Brighton.”

  “I’ll leave you alone for just a few minutes before I call you to come down the aisle.”

  “I appreciate you kindness,” Clara said. She turned her attention back to her image in the mirror and fussed with her hair.

  A kind man. She wanted a kind man, and she wanted a man who needed her. Her greatest joy when Charles was alive was caring for him and their household. The one feeling she could not shake since his death was that she was useless without someone to care for.

  The image of Ezra’s handsome face came back into her mind. His light green eyes contrasted with his dark brown hair. The lines at the corners of his eyes hinted that he was a few years older than she, but he radiated vitality and strength. A strong jaw and broad shoulders completed the look of a man who was accustomed to fine things, but it was obvious he worked hard for them. His humility was obvious to her from the first letter he’d sent.

  Clara tucked a stubborn blonde curl behind her ear. She wanted to be a good wife for him. She wanted to fill their home with warmth, love, her beloved music, and children. She blushed at the thought of being the mother of his children. While they hadn’t discussed it their letters, she hoped they would have children someday. A knock sounded lightly on the door.

  “Dear, it’s time.”

  She took a deep breath and walked to the door. It was time to say goodbye to Mrs. Clara Thomas and to say hello to Mrs. Clara Boone.

  Ezra couldn’t remember much of the service. He was captivated by the woman who floated down the aisle and now stood in front of him. He had responded at the proper places during the ceremony, and now the pastor was talking about marriage and Ezra was transfixed.

  Clara’s blonde hair glowed around her heart-shaped face from the sunlight that shone through the church windows. The sparkle in her deep blue eyes was striking. She was petite and much shorter than Ezra. He noticed the delicate quality of her features in the soft light, and he was amazed that such a beautiful woman was about to become his wife. Even her hands felt light as a feather in his. Grace was a pretty woman, but Clara was beautiful.

  The pastor said something and Ezra blinked.

  “I said, Ezra, you may kiss your bride.” The few friends in attendance chuckled as he shook himself out of his daydream. Embarrassed warmth spread up his neck as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Clara’s lips. It was light and quick, but it stirred something in them both that had long fell dormant. They both felt the joy of their new marriage, but neither of them knew the question they both wrestled with. Am I betraying Charles? Am I betraying Grace?

  They made their way down the aisle and out into the late afternoon sun. Clara’s hand rested gently in the crook of his arm, and it felt good to be escorting this beautiful woman who was now his wife. He fought the feeling that he had betrayed Grace but it spread faster than a wild fire.

  “It was a lovely ceremony,” Clara said.

  “Ah, yes. Yes it was.”

  They smiled at each other in the awkward silence. They had discussed quite a few things in their letters, and they both realized at the same time they really didn’t know each other at all. They had written about the formalities such as, “How would you feel about moving?” or “Do you have any family that I should contact?”

  They had been a thousand miles apart until today, and even standing beside each other they still were a thousand miles apart. He was taking this woman home as his wife and he hardly knew anything about her.

  “Did you, uh—that is…do you have things to bring with you?” He tried to ease the tension.

  “I have one trunk.” She glanced up at him. “I believe the train master said it would be delivered to your—I mean, our home.” His gut clenched at her words “our home.” The home he had shared with Grace had been filled with love and laughter and was unused and covered in dust.

  “I don’t have many things.” Her voice was small and quiet.

  Ezra took a moment to gaze at his new bride. She had explained her situation and the dwindling number of students she taught, but he hadn’t realized just how dire her needs were. The threadbare dress she wore was clean, but it was dated and he caught a glimpse of the worn leather of her shoes beneath her skirt.

  Her sweet smile lifted his heart, and a new feeling rose in him. He could provide for her. If nothing else, he knew her physical needs would be met. He’d make sure they took a trip to the general store soon to buy her anything she lacked.

  Ezra helped Clara into the small buggy and set the horse off through the rough streets. When they arrived at his home, he tied the horse to the hitching post and helped her down from the buggy. She took his arm and he led her inside.

  “This is so beautiful, Ezra.” Clara stood wide-eyed at the home before her. He saw it through new eyes as she would. The home boasted a parlor to the right and a stairway that led upstairs to three bedrooms. On the main level the kitchen spread out in the back to a separate dining area.

  “I’ve made up a room for you.” His nervous words caught and he cleared his throat.

  “Thank you.” She tried to avoid his gaze. The light blush that formed on her cheeks was becoming, if not telling of her own feelings.

  He’d contemplated all aspects of their arrangement and had come to the conclusion that though they were married, she would need time to adjust.

  Though he hadn’t realized it at first, it was a selfish decision on his part. The more he considered the situation, the more he realized he was the one that needed the time to adjust. He was still unsure if he was ready to let this woman into his home and his heart.

  Music in the Parlor

  Clara paced the parlor with a frown on her face. Ezra had been gone most of the day at his job at the bank. She’d taken time to prepare dinner, unpacked her meager possessions in the spare bedroom, dusted everything in the house, and wrote a letter to her young student Robert and his family telling of her safe arrival and marriage to Ezra.

  Despite all the work she’d done, time had crawled by and it was just shy of four o’clock in the afternoon. She forgot to ask Ezra when he would be home and she wondered what to do next. This was her first full day as Mrs. Ezra Boone. What of tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that? Was this to be her new life?

  She walked to the parlor window and she parted the sheer curtains to look outside. Her hand trailed along the edges of the writing desk under the window. She felt the tell-tale grit of dust under her fingertips. She sighed and walked to the closet where she’d found the cleaning supplies and returned with a dust rag. When she lifted the desk lid to dust the edges, she gasped.

  It was a piano!

  She had heard about these compact pianos but had never seen one before. Her mind reeled at the joy of spending her leisure time playing music again. The thought of playing and teaching lessons again filled her to over flowing.

  She slipped the small bench from its nich
e under the piano and sat down. She felt like a little girl again, and she flexed her fingers over the keys. She played middle C and closed her eyes as the beautiful tone of the small piano filled the room. Next she played the C chord and almost laughed in satisfaction.

  “I’m amazed it’s still in tune,” she exclaimed. She played a few scales to loosen her fingers and she bit her lip.

  “What would I play first?” she mused out loud. Hymns were her typical warm-up pieces, but something about the joy of discovering this piano and her desire to test its limits convinced her to play Debussy’s Valse Romantique. The haunting melody and waltz tempo always brought a smile to her face.

  Clara was lost in joy as she felt the keys beneath her fingers and felt the music fill her. This was what filled her soul with joy as nothing ever had. She lolled her head in rhythm to the music that flowed from her as she closed her eyes and let the feeling of making music recharge her. The chords resonated against the bare walls of the parlor, and the melodies carried out through the open windows.

  Without warning the front door flew open and Ezra stormed in. His face was red and eyes were ablaze. Her fingers slipped on the keys in a horrible discord of notes and she pulled in a startled breath.

  “What are you doing?” His eyes were on fire and red blotches formed on his cheeks. The veins in his neck pulsed in time with his rapid breathing. She opened her mouth but couldn’t find any words to respond.

  “Never touch—” his voice was high and caught in his throat and he stopped. He looked away from her to gain his composure, but to no avail. When he turned back, he looked into her eyes with such intensity it terrified her.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I—I didn’t mean any harm.” Clara saw something more than anger in his face, if only for a fleeting moment. She was sure it was sadness.

  “Never touch that…again.” His words came out quiet and she could tell he was doing his best to control his anger.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She stood up in a panic and the small bench seat toppled over behind her. “Please excuse me, Mr. Boone.” Tears filled her eyes and she skirted past Ezra and raced up the stairs.

  When she slammed her bedroom door, a small picture fell from the wall. It crashed in a cascade of broken glass. Clara pressed her back against the door and squeezed her eyes shut. Her tears burned as they flowed down her cheeks. She held her hand over her mouth to stifle her cries and walked over to the shattered picture on the floor. It was a picture of a pretty woman, and she knew that she had a bigger mess than the one at her feet.

  Ezra stood rooted to the spot as he looked at the opened piano. It hadn’t been touched in three years. Three long, lonely years.

  He knew that Clara’s first day at home without him might be boring, so he decided to come home early to surprise her. He was looking forward to an afternoon walk with her—to get to know her—but he never expected this.

  He broke the heavy silence with a groan. He could hear the stifled sounds of her crying and it made his heart ache and pangs of regret twisted in his gut. He’d lost his composure, something he swore to himself he would never do. He righted the fallen bench and slid it back in its place. He closed the lid and let his hand rest on it for a moment.

  Memories of Grace’s delicate fingers as they floated across the keys gnawed at him. She could coax magical music from that instrument. She loved playing flowing lullabies and soulful hymns, and when she sang it was as if an angel was in his presence.

  Grace. He missed her so much it hurt, and Clara’s playing had brought it all back. All the memories, and all the sadness.

  He recalled Clara’s shocked expression. It was burned in his mind forever. He hated himself for how he handled the situation, and he worried she would never forgive him. How could he even begin to tell her about Grace? How could he make her understand that she could never play this piano? He pulled his coat on and paused with his hand on the doorknob. He thought about going to her to comfort her, to apologize to her, to tell her something…anything. Instead he penned a quick note and left it on the piano. Going to take a walk. Ezra.

  He liked to walk when he was troubled. It gave him a chance to think and usually God managed to give him some sort of sign about what to do along the way. Today was no different, and he found himself in front of the church where he had been married the day before. He saw one of the church’s trustees at work on the roof over the alcove.

  “Ralph, could I have a moment of your time?”

  The older man looked down from the top of his ladder. He managed a “sure” around a mouth full of nails. He dropped his hammer to the ground and climbed down the ladder. He dropped the nails into a tin cup on the steps and turned toward Ezra.

  “What’s on your mind, son?”

  “Well…” Ezra’s single word answer made him feel foolish. What was on his mind?

  “Spit it out,” the older man said with a grin. He spat out the rusty taste of the nails. “This has something to do with Grace, doesn’t it?”

  At the mention of her name Ezra’s stomach constricted. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Come over here,” Ralph motioned to an old bench under the shade of a twisting wisteria vine. The two men sat and Ezra leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I got married yesterday.”

  “So I heard. Was happy to hear you found someone.” Someone new. Ezra’s mind filled in the words that Ralph would never say.

  “But she’s not Grace,” Ezra said. He put his face in his hands.

  “’Course not, son. Grace is resting with the Father. But you my boy,” he said as he slapped Ezra on the back, “are not.”

  “What do you mean?” He lowered his hands and turned his head toward Ralph.

  Ralph pulled in a deep breath and sat back. Ezra saw his gaze travel to the empty field behind the church. “You know I loved Grace. She was my only daughter and I gave her everything I could when she was growing up. I would have done anything for her and I was happy when she married you because I knowed she loved you, and I knowed you would take good care of her.”

  The man’s words were like salt on an open wound. They stung, but Ezra knew Ralph always had a point to everything he said.

  “It ‘bout near killed me when she passed away,” Ralph said. His eyes misted over with the memory of Grace’s death. “But the good Lord gives and He takes away, too. Who am I to question that?”

  Ezra remained quiet and hoped for some wisdom.

  “She died, Ezra, but you didn’t.”

  “I know that.” Ezra felt the same anger he had felt a short while ago rise, but Ralph’s next words quenched that fire.

  “Then why are you acting like you joined her in the grave?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see how you come in on Sunday mornings. You come in after the hymns have been played and you leave before the final benediction. You avoid anything that makes you think of Grace.” Ezra wanted to argue, but the man had a point.

  “It…hurts. To hear music. To hear singing.”

  “I know, son, I really do, but avoiding it isn’t the answer.”

  Then what was? Ezra wanted to speak that question out loud, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. If moving on from Grace meant he had to forget her, it was something he didn’t have the ability to do. He punched to his feet with frustration and sadness mingled together in his head.

  “Thanks, Ralph. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

  “Ezra,” Ralph said, “It’s okay to let go.”

  Ezra raised his hand and without a word he turned and walked away. Ralph’s words echoed in his head. It’s okay to let go. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  Distrust Takes Root

  Clara stayed in her room until the next morning. She smelled fresh coffee and her stomach grumbled in response. She didn’t want to go downstairs if Ezra was still home. Her sleep had been fitful and she’d fought terrifying dreams all night. A light knock sounded on the doo
r and it startled her.

  “Clara?” Ezra’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

  “Go away.” Her voice cracked and she pressed a hand over her mouth.

  “Clara, please.” Ezra’s voice was soft but insistent. “I need to apologize for last night.”

  He sounded genuine, but how could she be sure? The anger in his eyes was something she never wanted to see again.

  “I—I don’t know…”

  There was a pause before he continued. “I’m very sorry for losing my temper last night. It was wrong of me. It won’t happen again. Please open the door. Please come down and have breakfast with me.”

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Her voice held a tinge of anger now, and she bit her lip and grimaced.

  “Thank you.”

  She went to the mirror and looked at herself. Her red-rimmed eyes betrayed the lack of sleep and the tears she shed last night. Wisps of her blonde hair flew in every direction but she never had been able to tame them. She steeled herself with a deep breath and opened the door and walked down the steps. Her gaze flitted to the piano and she saw a piece of paper on top. She walked over and read his note from the night before but didn’t touch it or the piano.

  Ezra sat at the wooden table in the kitchen and rested his elbows on its rough surface. His broad shoulders pulled his white muslin shirt taught against his chest and back, and he held his chin in his hands. When she stepped into the kitchen he shot to his feet. The angry look from the night before had given way to an anxious one that didn’t seem to fit him.

  “Clara?” he said. It was a question and a statement wrapped into one. He looked as tired as she felt.

  She approached the table and sat on the opposite side facing him. The aroma of coffee and fresh biscuits teased at her, but the man standing on the other side of the table commanded her attention.