Zach nodded and hung his head for a moment. “It wasn’t me, it was God who gave me the idea that you needed a wife. I figured you’d grow to be an old bachelor still sweeping the store’s front porch alone if I hadn’t made the decision to force you into finding a wife.” He chuckled.
“And I don’t think Granny could be any happier!” Jess said. “She seems to really like Cora and Greta.”
Zach whacked his brother on the back. “We’re doubly blessed, you know. As soon as I can get that cabin built, we’ll be moving in there. Cora has already asked me if we could have a separate building to house orphans.”
“You don’t say? That’s great! That’ll be something really different for you, Zach. What do you think about it?”
“Life will be different, but with Cora, it’ll be worth it. It may be a slow start, but just think of the good a building could do for kids who need a place to go. What better place than open spaces to explore? And we can assign chores that they could handle depending on their age.” Zach opened the door and prepared to lock it, then paused to look around. “Where’s Caleb?”
“He’s been gone. He promised to meet Granny early.”
“Humph! I think sometimes she thinks he’s her grandson too.” He locked the door, and they started down the street toward St. James Church.
Greta stood with Cora and Granny and listened to the organ playing softly in the background. From the foyer, she peeked through the heavy wooden doors of the church. She saw the new friends she’d made since arriving in Central City and some of Jess’s customers already gathered in the pews. Jess and Zach were at the altar with Reverend Edwards. When she saw Jess’s profile and noticed his nice suit, fresh haircut, and taut jawline, her heart skipped a beat. Her hand shook as she patted her hair, making sure the pins were secure, then she moistened her lips. She felt her legs go weak momentarily. She was about to say her vows!
“It’s nearly time for you and Cora to walk down the aisle,” Granny crowed. She was wearing an outrageous hat she’d bought from Suzanne for the wedding. “I’m going to go have a seat now. Anna, you can sit with me. I’m so glad I’m hosting the reception on my newly painted porch, thanks to Caleb.”
“Thank you for doing that, Granny, and for taking care of Rascal for a few days.” Greta gave the older lady a hug and saw Granny blink back a tear. Anna gave Greta a kiss and left with Granny.
“This is it. I never would’ve thought we’d be doing this together,” Cora whispered.
“And to two brothers! Not only will we be good friends forever, but we’ll be family as well.” Greta squeezed Cora’s arm.
Caleb walked up to them. “Wow! You both are beautiful.” He kept his voice low as he said, “I have a small gift for you that I want you to have. I’ll be hurrying to catch the train after the ceremony to visit my family before I start college next week, but I wanted to give you both something I made. It’s not much, but maybe you’ll think of me. I know I’ll be thinking of all of you and how you’ve influenced my life.” He placed a small figurine in each of their hands.
“Oh, Caleb . . . a dog. He looks just like Rascal.” Greta admired the tiny wooden sculpture. “Thank you.” She gave him a brief hug. “You’ll be sorely missed.”
“What a beautiful angel,” Cora exclaimed. “It will be dear to my heart, Caleb.” Cora leaned in close to kiss his cheek. “I hope you’ll be back to visit. You’ve become like a part of the family.”
Caleb flushed. “I intend to come back at Thanksgiving break. Granny said I could stay with her.”
“Then we’ll have much to be thankful for. I’m going to tuck my dog into my bouquet for now.” Greta pushed the figurine into the nosegay of primroses.
“I’ll do the same,” Cora whispered.
“Oh! The music is growing louder. You’d better hurry and take your seat, Caleb. It’s almost time for us to go,” Greta urged.
He gave them a farewell hug and hurried inside, propping the doors open for them to enter just as Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” rang out in a crescendo. Everyone stood in respect as Greta and Cora strolled down the aisle to meet their respective grooms.
With great emotion but with tears in check, they spoke their vows before God and man. When it came time to give the brides their wedding bands, there was a moment of panic while Jess searched his pockets.
“Jess, you told me you’d take care of getting the bands. Where are they?” Zach asked through clenched teeth, clearly irritated.
Greta looked at Cora and smiled. She wasn’t surprised at all that Jess had forgotten to bring them. She may as well get used to this. A few people in the pews twittered, and she heard a chuckle.
“I . . . well . . . it seems I forgot to get them.” Jess apologized with a shrug while the reverend, his eyebrow cocked, stood waiting to continue the ceremony.
Caleb sidled up to them. “I kinda figured you wouldn’t remember,” he said quietly, then handed a ring to Jess and Zach. Zach winked and Jess muttered a thank-you.
Zach gave Cora’s ring to her, and Jess slipped Greta’s band on her finger, looking at her with tenderness. His hands were warm to her touch . . . warm just like his heart. He whispered, “I love you,” and her heart swelled as she mouthed the words back to him. The reverend smiled, and after a prayer of blessing, he said the men could kiss their brides.
Jess’s smoldering gaze sent a tingle up her spine. He kissed her, not lingering, and gave her a squeeze about the waist as they all turned around to be presented to the congregation. Greta smiled at everyone present and wondered if her face reflected the excitement she was feeling. All was well. She was Mrs. Jess Gifford! There would be time later for more affection, no doubt.
36
Greta saw Jess’s brown eyes widen in approval when she entered the bedroom of their hotel suite. She’d spent extra time on her toilette in the bathroom, brushing her hair until it spilled in soft, shiny waves down her shoulders. Catharine had given her the cream silk gown and robe set as a wedding gift before she’d left Cheyenne.
“Ahh . . . my beautiful wife,” he murmured hoarsely. His eyes swept over her form, perusing the outline of her shape from where he sat waiting by the window. She drew in a nervous breath and moved toward him. When he spoke the word wife, it was almost like a caress.
He’d changed from his suit into a woolen robe, but his feet were bare. Is there anything underneath? she wondered with a quiver in her belly. Noticing her look, he grinned mischievously. He held out his arms, enfolded her in an embrace, and pulled her onto his lap.
“Greta,” he whispered huskily in her ear. His breath was hot against her skin. “You look ravishing in that gown.” His hands stroked her arms, and their eyes locked for a long moment.
“Mmm . . . thank you, my husband. It was a gift from Catharine,” she replied, looping her arms around his neck and feeling the muscles there tighten. It felt good to be able to claim the word husband, and she liked the sound of it when it rolled from her lips.
His smile broadened, and he tenderly reached for her. “You are such a gift. One that I longed for . . . prayed for.” His lips brushed her temple, then moved to the curve of her neck, and she leaned back with a whimper, allowing her eyes to drift closed. He nibbled her earlobe, then she turned slightly, her eyes traveling to his full lips.
“I do love you,” he breathed.
“Ja . . . yes, I love you too. I was happy to hear you say those three little words to me today, but you can continue to say them through the years. I shall never grow tired of them.”
Smiling, Greta leaned in close, teasing him with her lips, and he tried to capture them with his until finally she let him.
Their kiss was slow, long, and full of desire, as he fingered the delicate blue ribbon on her gown.
Author’s Note
Contributing to the rich and colorful setting of the American West, mail-order brides and women in general influenced the creation of schools, libraries, and churches and established hearth and home. It didn’t take long f
or men who traveled west of the Mississippi to realize their need for the “gentler sex,” and soon mail-order brides became prolific. Although many Dutch and Swedes settled in Minnesota, I took the liberty of having my heroine from Holland travel out West, looking for love and adventure.
My love of Blue Willow china, given to me by my brother when I was a child, led me to write this story. I use Blue Willow dishes every day and never tire of their design and beauty. In the Blue Willow Brides series, I use a common thread of Blue Willow dishes to weave a story around the bride and her sisters. There are several legends of the Blue Willow story in the center of the plates. In my story, I use the one most commonly associated with the dishes.
Central City, Colorado, where my story takes place, was known as the richest square mile on earth by 1859 as the result of the gold rush strike in 1858. This area in the seat of Gilpin County was called the Cradle of Colorado. John Gregory, a man from Georgia, discovered enormous deposits of gold at Gregory Gulch between Black Hawk and Central City, thirty-five miles west of Denver.
When I lived in Denver, Central City was one of my favorite places to visit. It’s nestled between Clear Creek and the base of the Bald Mountain summit of the Rocky Mountains. Many of the historic buildings are there today, but gambling casinos have taken over the sleepy mountain town, much to my dismay. In 1870 the population had fallen to 4,000, but at the height of the gold rush, 60,000 people lived in and around Central City. Today the population is about 645.
The Teller House, where my heroines had a brief stay, still stands proudly on Eureka Street. It was built in 1872 by Henry Teller, one of Colorado’s first senators and a well-known attorney, whose office was across the street. At one time it was known as one of the finest hotels west of the Mississippi. I met the late actor Richard Crenna there while he was filming Centennial.
The Teller House was one of the first hotels with plush carpet from Brussels and rooms trimmed in rich walnut. In 1936 a local artist painted a picture of a woman’s face on the wooden floor of the Teller House bar. I saw the painting firsthand, and it makes for interesting conversation. It is well-known as the “face on the barroom floor.”
The townsfolk paved the sidewalk in front of the hotel in silver ingots when President Ulysses S. Grant visited in 1873. In 1874, fire destroyed most of the city’s business district, but the Teller House, made of brick, withstood the fire and helped prevent its spread to other areas of town. Later, businesses were rebuilt by brick and stone, as required by the city. The Teller House is now a popular steak house and casino.
Major John N. Andrews was a real commander in charge of Fort Bridger, and I took the liberty of using his name on the letter to Jess Gifford.
St. James Church, where Greta and Cora marry Jess and Zach, is the oldest church in Colorado and is still standing today. It looks exactly the same as it did in late 1871 when it was completed.
The Agricultural College of Colorado started its veterinarian department in 1900, and the college’s name was changed to Colorado University in 1935.
Lastly, in case you didn’t guess, my hero, Jess, suffered from ADD (attention deficit disorder), which was recognized as early as 1798 but wasn’t labeled as such until 1902. I have several friends and family members with this disorder, so I wanted to write about it with a light hand by using my character. For further information for someone you know who has ADD, please visit the national ADD website: http://www.add.org.
Acknowledgments
My sincere appreciation to the following:
Doris and Dianne, my sisters who support all my writing efforts. I love you!
My brother, Sam, for introducing me to Blue Willow dishes by giving me a tea set for Christmas when I was eight years old. Here’s to you in heaven.
Mag’s Peeps, my prayer warriors—Sheri Christine, Karen Casey, Connie Crawford, Linda Hoffner, Kelly Long, Gaye Orsini, and Lynn Underwood.
My critique partner, Kelly Long, for your friendship, constant support, and love that keeps me focused.
Dottie Poythress and the ladies on staff at the BookMark of Johnson Ferry Baptist Church.
Andrea Doering, my wonderful editor, and the entire Revell team who bring my novels to life.
Angelina, Maggie, Peter, and Sarah, my grandchildren who fill my life with constant joy, as well as much-needed distractions!
Julie Lessman, for her friendship, encouragement, and most of all her prayers.
All my readers everywhere, who champion me with their words of encouragement.
Natasha Kern, my agent, for her friendship and valuable advice.
The Lord, who is my rock and my salvation.
Maggie Brendan is a bestselling author. She is a member of the American Christian Writers (ACW), the Authors Guild, the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), the Romance Writers of America (RWA), Faith, Hope & Love (FHL), and the Georgia Romance Writers (GRW). Maggie led a writers’ critique group in her home for six years and was quoted in Word Weavers: The Story of a Successful Writers’ Critique Group. She was a guest speaker at a Regional Church Bookstores and Libraries conference in Marietta, Georgia, on the value of Christian fiction.
A TV film version is currently in development for her first novel, No Place for a Lady, book 1 of the Heart of the West series. Deeply Devoted, book 1 in the Blue Willow Brides series, received a 4-star review from Romantic Times.
Maggie is married, lives in Georgia, and loves all things Western. She has two grown children and four grandchildren. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, singing, painting, scrapbooking, and being with her family. You can find Maggie on her website, www.MaggieBrendan.com, and on her blog, www.southernbellewriter.blogspot.com. She is also a resident blogger on www.bustlesandspurs.com.
Books By Maggie Brendan
* * *
HEART OF THE WEST
No Place for a Lady
The Jewel of His Heart
A Love of Her Own
BLUE WILLOW BRIDES
Deeply Devoted
Twice Promised
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Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel Page 27