CONTENTS
1. The Desperate Bride & The Cowboys Illegitimate Baby
2. An Elder Brother for The Abandoned Bride
3. A Broken Cowboy for the War Nurse
4. A Lonely Cowboy for the Scarred Bride
5. The Runaway Bride’s Salvation
6. The Pregnant Widows Salvation
7. A Captive Bride for the Desperate Cowboy
8. A Sickly Bride for the handsome Doctor
9. The Indian Cowboy, The Bride & The Baby
10. The Lonely Pioneer and the Cripple Bride – Lilly
11. The Saloon Owner and The Novice Nun - Mary Margaret
12. The Faithful Rancher and The Scarred Bride - MERCY
13. The Prideful Preacher and The Dwarf Bride – Amelia
14. Mama Died, Daddy Needs A Bride
15. Pregnant Bride Needs A Cowboy
16. Cowboy Cuddles For A One Arm Bride
17. A Mail Order Nanny For the Awkward Banker
18. The Dutiful Bride’s Adventure (BONUS)
19. The Factory Bride’s Salvation
20. The Tag-along Bride
Copyright © Hope Sinclair 2016
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
For queries, comments or feedback please use the following contact details:
hopesinclair.cleanandwholesomeromance.com
info@cleanandwholesomeromance
1. The Desperate Bride & The Cowboys Illegitimate Baby
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
EPILOGUE
ONE
Be Careful What You Wish For
Josephine Margaret Billingham was about to turn fourteen and could not have been more exited. She had been waiting all year to ask her papa, Mr. Brett Arlington Billingham a crucial question – could he buy her a pony. Preferably a white one, so she could pretend it was a unicorn! She was not a ninny, she knew her papa did not have as much money as when mama was alive. But still, a pony was not too much to ask – surely. Exited by the prospect she dashed down the corridor of their Victorian house and did a full stop in front of the study room. She tucked away a stray unruly auburn lock and adjusted her tunic. It would not do to give an immature impression during her request. Resolutely she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” a deep voice called out. Josephine stepped in on a tiptoe. As usual, she was awed by her father and terribly happy to see him. But also as usual, he seemed incapable of settling his gaze on her. Josephine knew this was due to her uncanny resemblance to her mother. His one true love.
But she wished that he could just once, actually see her – Josephine, a person in her own right, as opposed to the shadow of his former wife. But things were the way they were. The situation had not changed in eight years and was unlikely to do so anytime soon.
Before she could launch into her reason for disturbing his quiet time, her father squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and then initiated the conversation himself.
“My darling, Josephine,” Brett Billingham began, “Please sit down. I have something wonderful to share with you.” Josephine plunked down in a corner chair, surprised by this unusual break in their routine.
“After too many years of living without a companion and partner, I’ve decided to take on a new wife.”
Josephine could hear the words, but they seemed to be coming from far away. A new mama?
“I have found just the right woman. Her name is Anabelle Hardy. She is a widow of 30 years of age, and is the niece of one of my associates at the bank.”
Josephine could not hide the dismay that colored her features. Surely, her papa could not be serious. She had never seen any women visit them. When had they met?
“In two months’ time, we will be married, and you, my sweet child, will be relieved of many of your duties.” Still without looking at her, he rose from his chair to stand in front of the big bay window, while he continued his explanation.
“You’ve done a wonderful job taking care of me and the household for the past eight years, and your mother, had cholera not claimed her, would be so very proud of your accomplishments. But, from now on, those will be my wife’s duties—and, she will serve you as well and teach you some of the things that I, as a man, cannot.” He briefly glanced at his daughter, than looked away, still unable to gaze at her overly long.
“Things such as how to tame that unruly mop on your head,” he continued good-naturedly. Josephine felt a twinge in her heart.
“I have taught you well in reading and arithmetic, and you are an impressive conversationalist,” Brett assured his daughter. “What you lack in knowledge of hairstyles, petticoats, and stockings, you make up for in knowledge of the home, and in kindness. You will make a wonderful wife someday if Anabelle can teach you more about refinement.”
“Wife? Oh papa, that is so far away in the future. What a silly thing to talk about now,” Josephine replied, secretly happy her papa had her future in mind.
“I am not just marrying her for me, but also for you my darling. She has two daughter, who are slightly younger than you are. You will finally have playmates,” her papa said, a happy smile on his face.
“Congratulations father,” she replied solemnly, “I am very happy for you.” Now that the initial shock had worn off, she genuinely was. She could not imagine how lonely he must have been these last couple of years. Surely as lonely as she had been without a mama.
Then it hit her. She was going to get a new mama and two sisters to play with! Now this was better than a pony by miles. Josephine curtsied and then rush up to her room and started packing her belongings, eager to make space for her new siblings.
That very week Brett Billingham brought Annabelle and her two children home to meet his daughter.
Josephine, had been exited all day. She tried her best to tame her hair by brushing it a thousand strokes and wore her very prettiest outfit. She wanted to make a good impression on her new mama and sisters. Once the introductions were done, her father left the women to be “acquainted”.
“I am so happy you are going to be my new mama,” Josephine nervously told Anabelle.
“I am not going to be any such thing. You may continue to call me Anabelle,” her stepmother replied in an ice-cold voice. Josephine felt like she had been slapped in the face, she flushed red and she starred down at her feet. Why didn’t she want her? Her papa had promised she would be getting a new mama. Josephine bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She looked up, when she heard the snickering of her two new sibling, Fran and Beatrice. At the age of 10 and 11, they both wore face paint and comported themselves like miniature versions of their mother.
“As you are the eldest Josephine; Fran and Beatrice are in your care. If they get into any trouble, I will be holding you responsible,” Anabelle declared, steel in her voice. The lecture continued in a similar fashion up until her father came back. Then both her new stepmother and stepsisters were as sweet as candy.
Josephine desperately looked towards her papa to try and get his attention. But to no avail. As usual, he avoided her gaze. Crowded as he was with his new wife
whispering in his ear, and his two new daughters sitting in his lap, he failed to notice when Josephine left the room.
Four weeks later Annabelle Harding became Mrs. Brett Arlington Billingham. At her side she had her two young daughters and her new husband. If anybody had bothered noticing, they would have seen a third daughter in the background. A slim girl with an unruly mop, who looked like she would have very much liked to be included in the festivities.
TWO
A Vision of Motherhood
10 Years Later
Mr. Port was sweating profusely. Based on various recommendations, he had gone knocking on doors of one family after the other in New York, trying to find a daughter that fit Mr. Kent’s requirements. Never had he had such a hard time.
This was not the first time he was on a bridal errand in the city. When he escorted, the now Mrs. McAdams back to Cedarwood Creek in Montana, finding her had been as easy as could be and the journey as uneventful as you could wish. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge that the ease of that assignment might have been because the bride and groom had already found each other and exchanged correspondence, prior to his involvement.
This journey was a different matter altogether. The groom did not have time for the traditional email correspondence, his situation was too dire. He needed eyes on the bride by someone reliable, so the arranged marriage could happen very swiftly. That honor had been given to Mr. Port. As he wiped his brow, he yet again wondered if accepting it had been a good idea. After spending two weeks scouring the New York countryside, he had yet to find a young woman that matched the requirements.
Despite Mr. Kent’s only pre-requisite being that the girl be plain enough not to tempt him, Mr. Port felt it his duty to undertake this matter with the outmost thoroughness. This had led to no end of disappointments.
Of the families he had visited, the choice was as varied as the color of an autumn sky. Where one daughter was too sweet and pretty, another was plain, but too sour. Where some brides stated openly that they cared nothing for children; all they wanted was an adventure out West, others stated the complete opposite; they wanted a whole brood.
Where in heavens name was he going to find a woman, motherly enough to have raised various children, unlikely to want more and at the same time plain enough not to tempt Mr. Kent to provide her with more offspring?
A defeated sigh escaped his lips. If he didn’t find someone suitable soon, he might have to resort to contacting a mail order bride agency. He had heard that a woman called Joanna Hunter, ran a successful matching service here in New York. But he was loath to do so, as it sounded too much like defeat. That said, faced with the choice of returning empty handed and having to explain himself to Mr. Kent, he just might not have a choice.
Lost in his thoughts he stumble to a halt. The man walking behind him almost bumped into him. He would not give up just yet!
As he looked around, he realized he was walking through what was once Seneca Village. The scenery was beautiful, winter was departing, and new spring flowers were slowly sprouting along his route. But there was no spring in Mr. Port’s steps.
Annoyed, he admonished himself, there was no point moping around here. He needed to go back to his hotel urgently to telegraph Mr. Kent and advise him of his progress. Then he heard it, a pearly giggle.
Twilight was quickly descending upon the area, but the sound called to him, as if by magic. He turned a corner, peered through a bush and found himself looking out onto a field of green, with apple trees dotted around. The vision in front of him took his breath away. Three children, dressed in pretty matching outfits were roaming the field, like happy fairies. They were laughing and shouting, while being supervised by a motherly angel. He could not see her face in the twilight, as the sun was setting in his eyes. What he did see though, was a portly figure, with a huge apron, running across the meadow to pick up a fallen child. A perfect Madonna!
Mr. Port could not believe his good fortune. She was likely the daughter of some merchant who lived in the area. This was an unusual sight, even for Central Park, someone would know who she was. Hopefully she wasn’t already married and this wasn’t her brood. Slowly he withdrew, almost bumping into another female passerby.
“Are you all right Sir,” the woman asked.
“More than all right Madame,” he replied, unusually giddy.
“I believe I have found what I am looking for. You would not happen to know who the woman over there is? The one walking away with the three children?”
“Most likely Josephine Billingham. A spinster, who lives not far away from here,” the woman replied and started hurrying away. Despite how safe the area was, you did not want to find yourself alone during sundown in the park.
“Wait, my good lady,” Mr. Port called out after her. “You would not happen to remember the address of the young woman’s residence as well?”
***
Josephine Bellingham was having another boring day, babysitting her brothers and sister.
It had been 10 years since her father remarried Annabelle. She was now 24 years old. An old maid by anyone’s account. The dreams she had of new siblings and a new mother had died within the first couple of months.
Josephine’s lessons in refinement began when Anabelle moved into Brett Billingham’s home two weeks after they were married. The new bride was very quick to pass both her chores and her judgment onto Josephine. Anabelle’s poisonous nature was well hidden from her father. As promised, she went on to teach Josephine how to better prepare her appearance, but those lessons were done resentfully, to a point that Josephine stopped attending as her new little sisters and their mother, would take turns at making fun of her. Several months later Anabelle became pregnant. She went on to bear three children—a son named Henry, a daughter named Patricia and finally, Albert another son.
It very quickly became clear that, as a banker’s daughter Annabelle was a money pincher. She did not believe in wasting even a dime. She quickly dismissed most of the servant and assigned several of their tasks to Josephine, including nursing duties. She justified this by claiming that washing dishes, cleaning and the sort, were very womanly skills and it would serve Josephine if she learned how to do this properly. Now, ten years later, Josephine had all but raised her siblings.
Not that, that had served her in any way. They all treated her like a servant. And why shouldn’t they? Their mother did, while her father closed a blind eye and pretended he did not see anything. Josephine felt bile rise in her throat at the bitter thought. Truly, her papa had abandoned her the very day her mama died.
Deep in her thoughts, she missed spotting the clump of dirt that came flying her way and hit her square in the face. As she wiped the muck off her face, she turned around and looked at the vile little rascal that was laughing at her misfortune, just two steps away.
“You little monster,” she muttered as she rose up slowly.
“You can’t do anything to me,” her little brother Henry muttered hesitantly, while he slowly backed away from her vengeful gaze. “I will tell mama.”
“What do I care, your mama won’t be able to protect you against a horde of snakes in your bed,” Josephine replied through clenched teeth. Her brother turned around and started sprinting off. He didn’t get very far as Josephine picked up an apple and with a well-aimed shot, sent the missile flying so it hit Henry hard and had him moaning on the ground.
“Ouch!” he shouted, while rolling around in pain.
“Serves you right. You are lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“I will tell mama,” Patricia, the five year old shouted.
“Yes, and let’s tell papa as well,” the three year old Albert chimed in.
Josephine could not have cared less. The days when her father’s opinion of her mattered were long gone.
“Come on, you little monsters, it is well past time to go home.”
She might not care what was said to her, but her stepmother had a knack for finding a host of creative punishme
nts if her rebellion grew too strong.
THREE
An Unexpected Proposal
Brett Arlington Billingham knew that Anabelle was not acting like a mother to Josephine, but he did not question or challenge it because of his wife’s delicate pregnant condition. When she gave him three children, two of which were sons, somehow the matter regarding Josephine seemed to lack importance. By the time he realized he had been sorrowfully neglecting his daughter, it was too late. Years had passed by. Nowadays he avoided her gaze, not because she reminded him of his dead wife, but because she reminded him of his shame and guilt. But today he intended to do right by her and speak up.
“Brett, this is a wonderful opportunity for Josephine. An eligible young man from out West wanting to marry her, with no request for a dowry no less,” his wife crooned, looking at their visitor, as if he was heaven sent.
Brett Billingham on the other hand looked at Mr. Port, with a guarded expression. The gentleman was not known to him and certainly did not belong to any of the prominent New York families. Why would he want to proxy marry his daughter to some stranger out West? To his knowledge, neither Mr. Port or the gentleman who had sent him, had ever laid eyes on Josephine.
“I am not comfortable sending my daughter away to the backend of nowhere, based on a promise and a gentleman’s agreement. Especially to a gentleman I have just met,” he said to his wife.
“Rest assured Mr. Billingham, your daughter will be well cared for. My client has a ranch, a homestead and enough money to provide for your daughter’s upkeep,” Mr. Port interjected.
His eyes swept through the study in which they were conducting the negotiations. The room had seen better days. The wallpaper was frayed in several places and there was dust everywhere. The rest of the house did not fare any better. Clearly, the Billinghams were down on their luck. It was unlikely they could afford the additional mouth to feed that Mr. Billingham’s daughter presented. He was sure he would be able to conclude the negotiations in favor of his client.
Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set Page 1