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

by Hope Sinclair

  Bernard glared at him and Henry grinned. His brother knew how much he disliked discussions stopped at a premature time before they had exhausted all the points. Naomi, who had sat quietly listening to the conversation, now cleared her throat.

  “What about it then Bernard, should we invite the lady over? I know it is disturbing she has but one limb; however, it does not seem like she thinks this will be a problem. Besides, anything she can’t do I am sure Rhoda, your housekeeper will deal with.”

  Bernard thought about it but there was really nothing to think about. Either way suited him just fine. He shrugged and nodded.

  “So is that a yes to the arrangement?” Naomi continued to prodded, looking for more than a nod as affirmation. “I don’t have to remind you that both Joshua and especially David, need a mother to tend to them?” she continued looking uncomfortable.

  They had a mother! Bernard thought angrily. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. It was no-one’s fault that his shame was out for everyone to see. The boys needed tending to and this woman would do as well as any other. At least with one arm, it wasn’t likely he would be tempted by her.

  “Yes, go ahead with the arrangement, since that seems to be the only way to stop you from hounding me,” Bernard replied and winked at Naomi.

  She clasped her hands together. “This is a day blessed by the Lord!”

  He looked at her dispassionately. He found no reason whatsoever to share in her celebration. Unlike Naomi and Henry who had immediately found love and commitment, he knew the pain of loving and losing a woman. He believed that Naomi was one of the few good women left. His brother was a lucky man.

  Bernard yawned, then downed the last of his tea and turned to Naomi with a grateful smile.

  “Thank you so much for supper. I’ll just get Joshua and David and we’ll go home,” he said and stood up.

  “Please don’t. They are both asleep on Jasper’s bed. I’ll bring them over tomorrow evening while showing you the letter I’ll write to Ms. Hunter.”

  “You don’t need to show me. I am sure what you write will be appropriate,” Bernard said, his disinterest evident. “I’ll be off then.”

  Outside, the wind was howling and he was glad to have left the children behind. It was a forty-minute walk to his home, on a well-worn path that connected the two homesteads. The light to the kitchen was off, a sign that his housekeeper, Rhoda, had returned to her quarters for the night. He thanked God every day for Henry, Naomi and their children. They had kept him sane in those months’ following Susan’s disappearance.

  The worry over her whereabouts had almost driven him insane. He had had visions of her being kidnapped by native Indians or devoured by a stray wild animal. Such incidences were not unheard of. They had reported her disappearance to the sheriff and the following morning, he had returned with news. Susan had not fallen under any misfortune, quite the opposite it seemed.

  Apparently, she had been seen early in the morning getting into a stagecoach, a strange man with her. Bernard had immediately thought that the man had taken her away under duress. Gently, the sheriff had told him that the two had been holding hands and had been seen several months earlier in the town.

  His love, which had been all consuming, shifted in the opposite direction and turned to hatred. He knew it was a sin to harbor hate in one’s heart, but the pain of betrayal stayed with him. He felt even sadder for Joshua who had lost a mother at the tender age of three years. He was now seven years old and had no memories of his mother whatsoever and for that, Bernard was grateful. He himself remembered every line in her face, the location of her dimples, high up on her cheek and her laughter, which could turn to unprovoked anger in an instant. Even now, years later, he still could not explain what had drawn him to Susan.

  She had had a tempestuous personality, but when her moods were good, she was wonderful to be around. The problem was that the good moods had not lasted and she could sulk for days. Thinking about her now, Bernard could see that she had been like a grown baby. When things did not go her way, she sulked and when she grew bored, ranting about the monotony of the farm, she lashed out.

  He had loved her once with a passion that he hoped to never experience again. Susan was proof to him that he was a poor judge of character and more than that, women were fickle beings. They were not dependable and lived day by day on their whims. He had given in to Naomi and Henry’s pleas that he gets a wife only for their reasoning that David needed a mother. At the thought of his infant son, he clenched his teeth. One last gift from Susan. Admonishing himself, he shook his head. It wasn’t the baby’s fault, any of it.

  He took a deep sigh and walked into his house. He had no need of anybody. He was content with his own life. Ms. Hunter’s coming would not change his way of life. He knew how to close himself off to emotional connections. After all, several ladies in town had tried to become the second Mrs. Hayward and had failed. They had given up after seeing how little progress their flirtation made with him. He was immune now to female charms and he had no worries at all over Miss Hunter’s arrival. She would bear his name and nothing more. Like he had told Naomi, he would committed to the arranged marriage, but he had nothing else to give Joanna Hunter, apart from his name.

  THREE

  A Sad Departure

  The house was filled with memories of her grandmother. Joanna had not felt Grandmother Margaret’s presence so strongly for years. It came as a warm, protective feeling, as though Joanna was enclosed in her Grandmother’s bony arms. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling, her arms clutching a bundle of clothes which she intended to take with her the next day.

  It was sad to think there was no one to see her off. Not a single person to cry over her departure. The one person who would have done so, apart from her grandmother was Ada.

  She missed her calming presence and the knowledge that someone else was in the house. Ada had lived in the second bedroom, the one that once belonged to her grandmother. Joanna herself could not have slept in that room. It reminded her too much of her grandmother, the only person in her family who had ever shown her real affection. She felt bereft as if in leaving she was leaving behind a real person rather than a house.

  The house held so many happy memories. She had only ever been content here, and the memories had almost wiped away the pain of her earlier years. Joanna continued packing her clothes, and at the top of the trunk, she placed the packages she had bought as presents for the people who would be her new family.

  She was all set. She had made agreements with her lawyer to have the house rented off and each month, the proceeds would be deposited to her bank account. Joanna had never really needed to work. In addition to the house, she had inherited a sizeable nest egg that would cushion her all her life. That and the rent from the house would take care of her finances. She had initially thought of selling the house, but her mind had rebelled against such a drastic action. They had agreed on a getting to know each other cooling off period of a month, before the actual wedding. Even though she had faith it would go well, it felt good to know she had something to come back to if the arrangement failed.

  She checked to see if everything was in her small bag, especially her two train tickets. She had insisted on paying her own way, which gave her some semblance of control over her impeding journey. It was a long journey from New York to Wyoming, but rather than feel intimidated, Joanna felt impatient at the remaining hours until she could leave.

  That night, the house felt quieter than usual. She listened to the sounds from the streets, the people of the city awake even in the middle of the night. She imagined sleeping to the buzz of insects and waking up to the chirping of birds. The image soothed her and she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

  The following morning, Joanna woke up poised to get moving. She did her morning rituals, the pulled her trunk down the stairs, with difficulty, and deposited it in the hallway. She made herself a cup of tea and sat sipping it, while keeping an eye out of the window for
the carriage she had ordered to take her to the station.

  She finished her tea, washed the cup and lugged her trunk outside, too impatient to wait indoors. She hid the house key under a rugged stone as she and the lawyer had agreed. Joanna looked up and down the street, the smells of the bakery reaching her and her tummy rumbled in response. She had not eaten breakfast on purpose. Her tummy was in knots and she couldn’t imagine keeping anything down.

  Joanna paced for ten minutes and just as she concluded that the carriage had some misfortune happen to it, it came into view. Only when she was settled in the first class compartment, her luggage towed away in the compartment on the side of the train did she begin to relax. It was the end of an era for her and the beginning of a new one.

  She glanced out of the window at people bidding their loved ones goodbye, and a touch of melancholy invaded her being. She pushed it away and desperately clung to her earlier enthusiasm. A family of five entered her compartment, their children chattering away, the mother and father looking harassed.

  By the luggage bursting out of their arms, she imagined that like her, they were on a journey to settle elsewhere. The woman gave Joanna a tight little smile, which Joanna responded to and then she turned her face back to the window. She would have loved to chat with someone through the six-day long journey, but she had locked herself away in her house for many years and she felt inadequate in her social skills.

  Besides, she did not want to answer the inevitable question that would come up, after cursory glances at her missing arm. Apart from her grandmother, she had confided in no one about how she lost her arm. It was too painful to remember, even now, eight years later. By the fourth day, Joanna’s muscles ached from sitting up, and though the sleeper carriage allowed her to sleep at night, it could not compare to a soft feather mattress.

  Finally, early Friday morning, the steam engine reached her stop, Riverside town. From her window, she could not see anything of the town, just anxious faces waiting for passengers to disembark. Her eyes roamed the various faces, trying to pick out Bernard Harper. She gave up, when all the faces seemed to merge into one.

  Joanna had written to Naomi, informing her of how she would be dressed. She looked down at her cream-colored dress, flared out at the waits and made a face. Despite a change of clothes, it looked crumpled and smudged with dirt. She stepped out into the Wyoming sunshine and before she could gather her wits, a smiling woman, with hair parted at the center stepped in front of her.

  “Joanna Hunter?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m Joanna. Are you Naomi Hayward?” Joanna said, blinking her eyes at the sudden glare of light.

  “The very same,” Naomi replied and took Joanna’s free hand. “You cannot imagine how happy we are that you’re here. We prayed for your safe passage and the Lord has answered our prayers.”

  Joanna found herself smiling at the other woman’s warmth and genuine friendliness.

  “Come and meet my husband Henry Hayward and your intended, Bernard.”

  Joanna followed Naomi away from the train and the crowd.

  “Meet Henry Hayward,” Naomi said, and a smiling man stepped forward. He had a mop of brown curls on his head. He shared the same cheerfulness as his wife and she liked him instantly.

  “And this is Bernard Hayward,” Naomi said with flourish, and a man in the shadows stepped forward.

  The first thing Joanna noticed was that he was very tall. He seemed to tower over everyone else in the platform. His cowboy hat covered half his features. He tipped his head and with the tip of his finger pushed the hat up so she could gaze fully into his eyes. Her eyes locked onto his and she lost her breath. His eyes were the colour of dark chocolate with flecks of hazel nut. Framed by bushy eyebrows and long dark eyelashes that would have been feminine on any other man; there was only one way of describing her future husband. Rugged, stunning…displeased?

  The momentary indifference she had seen in his eyes had been replaced as fast as lightning with cold displeasure. She felt herself shrink from the steel of his unhappy stare. His mouth curled tightly and he nodded in response to the introduction.

  Joanna stuck out her hand and he gripped it in his large one. She froze at the shower of sparks that his touch ignited. She grabbed her hand back, her heart hammering against her chest. She could not understand her own reaction, seeing, as the man was being deliberately unfriendly.

  “Come Henry, let’s leave the couple to be and go get Joanna’s luggage,” Naomi said, tugging at her husband’s hand.

  “It’s green in color,” Joanna offered to the retreating couple.

  She turned back to Bernard. He was not looking at her at all and she felt a flicker of annoyance. His head was tipped back against the wall, his face remote. His indifference to her arrival hurt more than she would have thought and she stood there feeling as though she had got off the wrong station. Without a word to her, he turned on his heels and strode out, leaving Joanna standing there.

  She could not believe the very arrogance of the man. Just then, Naomi and Henry returned and she followed them out of the station, still smarting from Bernard Hayward’s behavior. What had she gotten herself into?

  FOUR

  A Rocky Beginning

  Bernard Hayward’s mind was in turmoil. He and Joanna were sat alone in the small wagon he had taken into town. He kept his face impassive but his heart was racing. The shock of seeing her still had him reeling.

  He had every intention to be civil to Joanna Hunter when she arrived, but one glance at her and all his good intentions had flown out the window. Even now thinking about her, shook him. For a second, his brain had frozen, as he stared at the woman who could have been Susan’s sister.

  It was the eyes that got him first. Like Susan’s, they were cornflower blue and they danced as she spoke. His hands had ached to touch her lush chestnut hair and inhale the scent of the curly tendrils. She was curvy, just like Susan had been, with a slim, perfect figure. What kind of luck did he have to find himself stuck with the very worst kind of women, Bernard thought bitterly.

  “How far is it to the farm?” Joanna asked him and he had no choice but to face her.

  Recognition leapt into life inside him, as he felt himself pulled into the depths of her almond shaped eyes. He inhaled sharply as though he had come within burning distance of a raging fire.

  “Two hours,” he snapped and immediately turned away.

  His mind was in turmoil and his heart felt as though it was being shredded into pieces. Who was this woman and where had she come from? He wished she would turn right back and get out of his life. Bernard forced his mind to focus on anything else.

  The shearing was due to begin the next day. He busied himself listing all the preparations needed to be done before the shearers begun their work.

  Unbidden, his mind tiptoed back to Joanna. He glanced at her. Her eyes were closed and she swayed from side to side as the wagon went over rough ground. It was a wonder she didn’t wake up or fall off the seating area. Her lips were curled into a slight smile as if she was dreaming of pleasant thoughts.

  Just looking at the locks of her luscious hair that had fallen across her face, made him ached to reach out and caress a lock. Would it be as soft and silky as it looked? The muscles on his face tightened. He had no business speculating about the lusciousness of her hair. He did not know why the good Lord had sent yet another temptress his way but he would make sure that she took no part of his heart when she disappeared, which he knew she would. Beautiful women like her were not content to stay home and raise a family. They were always after adventure and when one lost its attraction, they moved on to the next. Joanna Hunter was out of luck. She had picked the wrong man, Bernard thought grimly. He could hear Henry and Naomi’s voices up at the front, and he suddenly felt a wave of anger towards them.

  Why had he given in to their pleas to send for a mail order bride? If he had been firm in his refusal, he would not have to spend the next weeks fighting his attraction to
Joanna Hunter. He was only human after all, Bernard thought. There was no denying that she was captivating in the same wild way that Susan had been. Her uncanny resemblance to his former wife both drew him to her and repulsed him. He swallowed hard.

  The trip home continued for what seemed an eternity. Finally he could tell from the passing landscape that they were near the farm. He could not wait to reach and escape Joanna’s presence. The less time he spent with her, the better he would be able to keep his emotions at bay. An hour later, the sounds of the wheels changed and he knew without looking out that they had reached home.

  Joanna chose that moment to wake up. She blinked rapidly and looked around, her eyes growing larger as the realization of where she was hit her. She sunk back into her seat and kept her eyes away from him. Oddly, her pretense that he was not there irritated him.

  “We’re home,” Bernard said in a sarcastic tone.

  “Why thank you for the ride. I would love a hot bath,” she murmured, stretching her limbs without a thought as to how her actions were affecting him.

  As soon as he pulled the wagon to a stop, Bernard jumped off and almost crashed into Joshua.

  “Father! You’re home,” the boy said and jumped on him.

  Bernard lifted him, swung him around and then deposited him on the ground. Joshua’s attention was focused on the Joanna. Like a little gentleman he walked over and offered her his hand, to help her step off the wagon.

  “Are you my new mother?” he asked solemnly.

  “Joshua!” Bernard admonished. “This is my son Joshua, and Joshua, this here is Ms. Hunter.”

  “Sorry Ma’am,” the boy replied, cheeky grin in place.

  “Oh my, nobody told me just how handsome you are,” Joanna gushed.

  She sank to her knees and brought Joshua to her arms and they embraced. Automatically, Joshua’s hands went round Joanna’s neck and she responded by caressing his hair. It was too much for Bernard. He turned abruptly and left, taking long strides away from the house and towards the back to the expansive sheep shed.