Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set

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Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set Page 32

by Hope Sinclair


  “I heard about the little deal my grandfather made with my brother—how he promised him part of his inheritance once he was married, and the other part once he had a child. Ah, you’d be surprised how loose some folks’ lips get when they’ve consumed whiskey!”

  Sean laughed loudly, and his strange joyful expression terrified Emily. She shuddered at the sound of it and closed her eyes, in an attempt to “think” the noise away.

  “And, that, my dear sister, is when I came up with my plan to abduct you on your wedding night and demand a ransom,” Sean continued. “But, truth be told, I never thought it would be so easy. I knew you would not be sleeping in the same room as my brother just yet, but I figured he would at least be there, and would be another obstacle to overcome.

  “But, he wasn’t there, now was he? And why’s that? Why wasn’t your husband at home with you on your wedding night? Why wasn’t he there to pro—”

  Sean’s voice trailed off. Then, there was a loud thud, followed by silence.

  Emily opened her eyes to see the source of the commotion, and, as the man in front of her came into better view, she felt confused again. He was no longer wearing denim and leather. His hair was neat, and his face was clean-shaven. And, he’d gotten shorter, more solid—and, dare say, younger.

  “Clarence!” Emily exclaimed, struggling to get up.

  “Thank God you’re here… But, where did you come from? How on earth did you—”

  Just then, a sheriff and two deputies rushed into the abandoned barn and took hold of Sean. He was still unconscious, and they were burdened by his dead weight.

  “I’ll answer those questions,” Clarence said with a smile as he leaned down and began undoing Emily’s tethers, “and answer my brother’s at the same time… You see, I didn’t come home straight away after the wedding celebration because I wanted to get your something. I wanted to get you a gift to commemorate our wedding day. After watching you prepare for it so diligently yesterday—and after how understanding you were about my predicament with my grandfather—I wanted to get you something special.

  “So, even though the stores were all closed today, I convinced the general store owner to let me come in and purchase something for you. But, unfortunately, there was nothing there that I liked. Sure, there were plenty of special things there—but, none seemed fitting.

  “I told the good man as much, and he ended up giving me the name and address of another shop owner… in Gold Pot. He said that the other man’s shop had some very lovely items, and that the owner would surely open it up for me if I paid him a handsome price.

  “So, after you left the celebration, I headed off to Gold Pot. It took about two hours to get there, and, all the while, I kept thinking about what I would get for you as a gift. I’ve never bought a gift for a woman before, you know.”

  Emily’s hands were now free, and she rubbed her sore, worn wrists with them.

  “I never thought I’d want to buy a gift for a woman either,” Clarence said. “Or, at least I never thought I’d have such a hard time deciding what to buy.”

  Clarence laughed a little laugh. It reminded Emily of the way the young boy on the train had laughed, and, though she didn’t know why just yet, it warmed her heart greatly.

  “But no sooner than I bargained my way into the shop in Gold Pot, I saw it,” Clarence went on, moving on to undo the rope around Emily’s ankles. She leaned down to touch him, and their hands brushed against each other gently, which made Emily blush.

  “I found the perfect gift, and I bought it, without looking at anything else,” Clarence continued. “But, then, as soon as I stepped out of the store, the strangest thing happened.”

  Emily looked up at Clarence inquisitively. “What?” she asked. If she’d been sitting in a chair, she would have been on the edge of it again.

  “I was arrested,” Clarence said, matter-of-factly.

  “What?” Emily asked. If was the same question she’d just posed, though it sounded very, very different.

  “Yes,” Clarence said, shaking his head. “I was arrested. And, I won’t bother you with all the details now—but, suffice to say, I was arrested because the local sheriff thought I was my brother.

  “I overheard much of what Sean told you. And, everything he said is true—especially the part about people having loose lips when they’ve consumed whiskey. Apparently, my brother got very drunk last night and started bragging. He told a flirty barmaid in Gold Pot all about his outlaw background, as well as about his nefarious plan to kidnap you and blackmail me.

  “Little did he know, however, that that barmaid was no stranger to the sheriff. She’d been in trouble, herself, numerous times before, and she occasionally shared information with the sheriff to protect herself and buy her way out of other tricky situations, should they occur in the future.

  “So, the barmaid when and reported all that Sean had said to the sheriff. And, lo and behold, the sheriff showed her a series of mugshots, and she fingered Sean.”

  The knot around Emily’s ankles was tied very tightly, and, when it final came loose, she sighed in relief and reached down to rub her ankles, just as she’d just rubbed her wrists.

  Clarence stood up and held out his hand, and Emily took hold of it and slowly rose as well.

  “Unfortunately, however,” Clarence continued, brushing hay from his knees, “the sheriff mistook me for my brother. I tried to tell him that, but, naturally, he didn’t believe me. But, I kept at it. I kept insisting that I was who I said I was. And, eventually, he called the barmaid in for further questioning—and, luckily, she confirmed my claim.

  “And, once my claim was confirmed, the sheriff, his deputies, and I all took action. We jumped on our horses and headed toward Misty Water, in the hopes of catching up with Sean before he got a hold of you.

  “But, then, we saw a horse stationed near this abandoned barn, and it raised our suspicion. I dismounted my steed and rushed to the door, which needed only a slight push to open. I then overheard your conversation with Sean, motioned for the sheriff and his deputies, and rushed in to attack my brother while he wasn’t looking… And, then, you know what happened from there.”

  Emily raised her hand to her head and scratched her brow as a smile slowly crept across her face. “By God,” she said softy, shaking her head. “What an amazing story!”

  Clarence looked at his wife and laughed. “Amazing?” he asked. “I guess it was ‘amazing.’ Though, now, I’m just glad that it’s over.”

  Emily smiled at Clarence adoringly and agreed. “Me too,” she said. “But, we must get home quickly now. Your brother manhandled Victor, and we have to make sure he’s alright.”

  “Ah, that scoundrel!” Clarence huffed. “He hit the old man? Heaven be!... Well, yes, we should get home as quickly as possible. But, I’m sure my grandfather is in good care. When the sheriff and two of his deputies rode off with me, another deputy was sent to our home in Misty River. I’m sure he’s arrived at the ranch by now and is already tending to the old man… which means that we have a bit more time to spare.”

  Emily appraised her surroundings, then looked at Clarence inquisitively. “And why would we want to do that?” she asked, raising both eyebrows.

  “So that I can give you this,” Clarence answered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, which he promptly handed to Emily.

  Emily opened the box, and, when she saw what was inside of it, her eyes widened and sparkled. She dipped her fingers into the box and carefully pulled out a gold chain with a pendant dangling from its end.

  “It’s a heart,” she said curiously as she eyed the beautiful item.

  “Yes and no,” Clarence said, smiling at her. His eyes shimmered even more than the necklace.

  “It is a heart,” he clarified. “But, it’s not just a heart pendant. It’s a locket, which means that the heart opens up—which is why I thought it was the perfect gift for you.”

  Emily took the locket into her palm and squeezed
it tightly. “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Today, you became my wife, Emily,” Clarence said. He reached out his hand and put it atop Emily’s. “Despite the circumstances, we were married in God’s church, in front of all the good people of Misty River. You looked so beautiful in your dress; you gave such care in getting ready for this day; and you tolerated my strange demands as per the future or marriage, while also clinging to your ‘faith’ and ‘hope,’ as you put it.

  “You opened your heart up to me—and, I felt compelled to do the very same for you. This gift is a symbol. It represents how I’m a changed man. I rode my horse two hours out of town to find it for you, because I care for you. In time, I believe you will have my heart. What I am trying to say is that, I want to live together as a husband and wife should.

  “I give you my open heart, Emily Porter… if you’ll accept it.”

  “Of course, I will,” Emily proclaimed as tears ran down her cheeks. “I accept your open heart—and, I will fill it with love.”

  Clarence smiled at Emily, and the two of them walked out of the barn. As they readied themselves by Clarence’s horse, Emily opened her hand and glanced down at the locket again; then, she opened in along its small seem.

  “Looks like I’ll have to fill it with a lot of love,” she giggled. “It’s empty. There are no photographs in it.”

  “There will be,” Clarence replied, “once we have children.”

  And, sure enough, one year later, a photo was added to the locket when Clarence and Emily’s first son was born. They named him Victor, after his great-grandfather, who willingly, wholeheartedly surrendered the remainder of Clarence’s inheritance to him upon the child’s birth. Oddly enough, however, the gift came as a big surprise. In the year since he first met Emily, as he became a loving husband and proud father and gave more attention to his family than to his business, Clarence had completely forgotten about the money.

  The End

  8. A Sickly Bride for the handsome Doctor

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  ONE

  Raining. Once again. Marie was perched on the window seat with her thighs pulled up towards her chest and, as she watched the tiny droplets of rain trace thin lines on the glass, two bulbous tears crawled down her protuberant cheekbones. It had always been this way…the smell of the wet earth, the clash of water against the ground, the release of tears from the sky…it felt as if Nature had just ripped apart her flesh, clasped her heart and, shivering with the coldness it emancipated, commenced to mourn with heavy tears at her grievous state.

  Marie looked about her in despair. Her hostel room was medium-sized, with crimson wallpaper, and sparsely furnished- a plain deal table with a flowered white lace cloth over it where she ate her meals; the narrow brass bed where she slept; the small wooden shelf where she stacked her books, and a small table with a chair where she did all her work. The room was absolutely dark right now, lit only by moonlight. She had pulled back the heavy curtains from the tall window, and pale silver light poured into the room like a rain of needles; the glass was still wet from the daily evening rain. As Marie made her way towards the bed, catching a few bumps here and there, her eyes rested upon the rusty gilt-framed mirror, and she could not help but notice the sorrowful picture that met her eyes.

  Screwing them in the pale silvery light that escaped the window, she could discern a scrawny girl with heavy, curly red-brown with rich crimson ends, which she intensely despised as she could still remember the boys at school chanting “Carrots! Carrots!” at her face while she would helplessly look at them and cry at this horrible misfortune that had befallen her. She shuddered as she looked at those sickly white collar bones jutting out, her jaw-line clearly very prominent- there was a quivering paleness that slept upon her face.

  Trembling with disgust and fright, she cuddled herself within the thin blanket which proved to be highly inefficient in saving her from the burning coldness that lingered in her heart. Marie could feel the wooden chipboard touching her back as she fruitlessly tried to sleep; she had gotten used to this though. Ever since her mom’s best friend, Aunt Marjorie, had died, she had been reduced to living in poverty. And, with the yellow fever that had invaded her soul, it was impossible for her to earn any more money than she already was.

  Family. The word sends a chill down her spine. Seven years. It had been seven years since Marie’s parents died. Though Aunt Marjorie had been awfully generous in allowing her to stay with her and reside in her house for one whole year till she passed away, intimate feeling one experiences when you pour out your emotions to your own parents, was not possible to experience with her mom’s best friend. Marie’s heart ached for just one chance to meet her parents, pour out to them her problems and hear their advices enter her ears like sweet, warm music. But the very possibility, to wake up one morning to see her mom’s pretty face shining with elation and the proud smile etched across her dad’s face, remained only a dream.

  TWO

  Marie jolted up in bed as the loud sound of the alarm clock echoed her ears. Setting it off, Marie slid out of bed and motioned towards the basin at the far end of the room.

  Her head ached with sleep deprivation—the night’s thoughts still mingling in her mind. Languidly, she brushed away the yellowness that had crept up her teeth, splashed cold, chilly water against her pale skin and took out her creased uniform, which would serve as her ugly attire for the rest of the day.

  Marie Patterson worked as a sales clerk at a departmental store and, the daily routine of waking up and wearing that plain uniform, interacting with noisy, stubborn, bargain-thirsty customers and returning back home to this horrible cabin had begun to vex her. She felt sick. Sick of this poverty-stricken, monotonous life. It seemed as if things would just never change. Marie was on the verge of bursting into tears when suddenly, the clang of the bell rang through the room. Alarmed by the notion of a visitor this early in the morning, Marie moved towards the door. As she swung the door open, any icy blast struck her face and she shivered terribly. Finding no one outside, she moved in and was about to shut the door when her eyes fell upon an envelope sleeping on the carpet-deprived doorway. Picking it up hesitantly, she tore the seal open as she seated herself in a wooden chair beside the table. It was from her friend, Rose. It was dated from Baxter Springs, Kansas, at eight ‘o’ clock in the morning, and was as follows:-

  Dearest Marie,

  I have wonderful news for you! I and William Parks are betrothed! Oh, he is such a humorous and caring man, Marie! Oh, Marie, I really wish you would start looking for a nice man too. Anyone would fall in love with that pretty face of yours if you just allow them to. And besides, I desired to tell you something very exciting. Do you remember Dr. Charles Andrews I spoke so highly of before? Well, he is looking for a nice, young lady to be engaged to and oh, Marie! I believe you will be the most perfect match for him!

  He is such a gentleman with all his careful manners and expensive apparel. Yes, you might find the fact of a doctor being so ridiculously rich as odd so let me clear it out, money runs in his family and as his father passed away the following year he inherited the big mansion in which he resides being the only son. He is aged twenty-seven which means there is only a difference of three years between you two. Should I speak to him about you? Or do you wish to correspond with him your own self? Well, anyways, I have written his address below in case you desire to write to him (which I vehemently hope you do since he is like a diamond buried in sand).

  Oh Marie! My heart aches for the sound of your laughter, I really wish we would meet soon, which we hopefully will if you and Mr. Andrews get engaged; Mr. Andrews lives just the next street to ours and has good relations with William. Hope to hear from you soon.

  Yours lovingly,

  Rose Parks.
r />   Dr. Charles Andrews, address: 812 Military Avenue, Baxter Springs, KS 66713.

  A million thoughts mingled in Marie’s mind as she reached the end of the letter. The very notion of marriage made her flinch horribly. Marie could not believe how Rose could be so insensitive in asking Marie to propose to a complete stranger whom she, keeping aside the idea of talking to him, had not even seen before. This seemed preposterous. But, then, something clicked…Mr. Andrews was a Physician who had maintained a good reputation in society…perhaps he could tend to her pain and suffering…? But Marie did not have a good feeling about this. Perhaps, marriage was a good option— a way out of this miserable, boredom-stricken life but sending Mr. Andrews a letter, completely out of the blue, seemed extremely awkward. However, she did decide to look for notable doctors in the Matrimonial News when she came back from work, tired and exhausted, late at night.

  Landing with a weak bump on the bed, Marie slid open a crisp copy of the day’s newspaper from her bag. Running her eyes deftly down the matrimonial section, she desperately searched through the details for doctors in US. Bank Managers, Sales officers, Petroleum Engineer, Technician, Environmental Health Officer, Doctor…Marie hastily averted her eyes to the name and with her jaw pushed open; she stared at the name with utter surprise. She could not believe this.

  Written at the top of the page were the words- DR. CHARLES ANDREWS, current apprentice of renowned Physician, Dr. Philip Robinson. He was his apprentice! No wonder, Rose had regarded him as a respectable and affluent man; Mr. Andrews was Mr. Robinson’s apprentice, a former military doctor and his fame was spread all across the western US.

  It was hard for Marie to decipher the reason behind her elation in finding Charles—no, Mr. Andrews (she did not want to be on first name terms so soon, she had not even corresponded with him) name in the Matrimonial News. Maybe, because all this time, she had been furtively wishing to find his name there. Now, there was no reason why she shouldn’t write to him with regard to his mention in the Matrimonial News. Shaking with ecstasy and a slight tint of fright, Marie took out her feather pen, dipped it in rich blue ink upon the desk and commenced writing a letter to Mr. Andrews. All the fatigue that had occupied her a few minutes before had now vanished completely.

 

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