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

by Hope Sinclair

  Tears filled her eyes. Tears she didn’t even realize she still had. She nodded her head, and wrapped her arms around her waist again, trying to find some comfort. Hopefully, the Lord would see him through. He just had too. Jack was of the purest heart. And one with a pure heart didn’t deserve to die so young. They deserved to live to see their grandchildren and perhaps great grandchildren.

  “Can I see him?” she asked her voice just above a whisper.

  “I reckon, you can, but I think you’re going to need to talk to the sheriff. Isn’t that right?”

  Of course, she would need to tell them about the attack. About how Travis and Leila tried to kill them in the name of greed. But first she had to see her man.

  “I’ll send someone to fetch him, but you may go see your husband.”

  Why did everyone assume they were married? Must be because they rode in alone together. She stepped around the man and walked behind the curtain.

  A weight of despair slammed into her. Jack lay on a hardwood table, with a blanket draped across his body. His bare shoulders just peeked out. Dirt and blood were smeared into his hair and over his face. A bandage was placed against his forehead. Her love. Her hero. She took his hand and felt the clammy sweat on it. She pulled out a chair, and sat.

  Bending over, she began whispering prayers. Prayers for his recovery. His health, And prayers for her to have the strength to get through whatever came her way. And as she had prayed many nights since she was a thirteen-year-old girl, she prayed that she would get the opportunity to become Jack’s wife. Once her prayers were done, she set about gathering warm water and rags. He had saved her from a life of misery. The least she could do was clean the blood off his body.

  TEN

  “We’ll stop them, ma’am. I promise you.” The sheriff with a bushy grey beard and stringy hair tipped his head and put on his Stetson, before he turned, walking out of the small doctor’s office. A few deputies followed behind him. How she hoped they would? Because even if Jack did survive, she didn’t know how they could live in peace until those two were caught. At least the sheriff, kept her informed of his men’s progress in the hunt for the bandits who had attacked them. The sheriff and his men had searched Ruby’s rolling hills and mountain edges all night. But they still hadn’t caught them. But they would keep looking. They had vowed to.

  Kate walked to the window, and looked at the orange and red rays as the sun slowly rose in the sky, pushing back the night. A night spent in prayer, and caressing Jack’s hand, folding his fingers around her own. This was supposed to be the first morning they spent together married. But instead of welcoming the day lost in his eyes, she would spend it by his bedside, praying that somehow he would survive. But with each passing second, it became harder for her to keep her hope alive.

  Turning, she made her way back to the space behind the curtain, and a heaviness filled her. Jack hadn’t stirred, not one bit. In fact, the sharp slight rise of his body sent shivers through her. He almost seemed as though he struggled to breathe. With slow steps she walked to Jack and lay her hand on his shoulder, feeling his smooth burning skin. Dear Lord a fever had taken root.

  She took several steps back, and raced out of the small enclosure. Finding the stairs, she rushed up them to where she knew the doctor’s bedroom was, and banged on the door.

  She heard shuffling, and the pounding of feet. The doctor threw open the door and peeked out at her.

  “What is it?”

  “A fever. He’s burning up,” she cried.

  The doctor reached for something in his room and then threw a robe over his white pajamas. Following her down the stairs, they made their way to the sick room and to Jack’s side. The doctor lay a hand on Jack’s forehead and pushed his lips in a thin line.

  “I’ll give him some medicine,” he said. “And you can start bathing him to try and cool off his body.” He removed his hand and turned to her. “But you must understand. This is a sign of infection setting in. The odds are against him. “

  As tears slipped down her face, she nodded and a little bit more hope drained from her. There was so little left.

  The doctor took a small brown glass bottle, and rose Jack’s head with one hand. He slipped a few drops into Jack’s mouth, and held his mouth closed. Hopefully, Jack’s swallowing reflex kicked in. She had no idea what the doctor have given him, but she was sure he needed it.

  The doctor gently lay Jack’s head back down and picked up a small pan. “I’ll get you some water.”

  He then left the room, letting the curtain swish closed behind him.

  Kate walked to Jack and lay a hand on his back, letting the burning heat permeate her skin.

  “Please Jack. Please. Don’t you want to get married,” she whispered.

  She had no idea if he could hear her, but how she hoped he could. She needed him to live. To be with her. She needed him to not let Travis and Leila separate them forever.

  A small clank sounded next to her and she looked to the side, to see the doctor lay the small pan next to her, filled with cool water. A sad smile crossed his face.

  “Keep giving him hope,” he whispered before turning and leaving.

  Kate plunged her hand in the cold crisp water that made her fingers sting. She would. She would keep giving him all the hope he needed. Even if she didn’t have any left herself.

  ***

  Was he in Arizona? On a cattle drive, trying to bring the animals to the market? It sure felt like it. The heat in that state was intense and something he never wanted to experience again. Jack remembered clearly laying on top of his bedroll, as the dry air surrounded him and the heat sunk deep inside of him almost as if it was a part of him. Burning through him. When he had arisen the next morning, he found a sweaty outline of his body on his bedroll.

  Something cold and wet touched his back. He flinched, and stilled as a soft voice floated to him. A voice that sounded like an angel. Maybe one was coming to bring him home. Back to Wyoming. He wanted to go there. To drift back to a simpler peaceful time.

  Jack let his mind close and the darkness overtake him. But every now and then cold water splashed against his back. Fighting the heat. Pushing it back. He couldn’t place it. Couldn’t understand it. But it was there, intermixing with the sweet voice of the angel. But that voice wasn’t calling him home. It was calling him to something else. But what? An image filled his mind. An image of snow flying through the air, a giggle making nervous energy fill him. Young Jack peeked from behind his childhood home as a sea of white greeted him. The tall oaks in the yard where drenched in snow and every building was half hidden under the thick moist substance. Where was she?

  A snowball flew over his head, smacking into the wall above him. He flinched just as he saw something red duck behind a tree in the distance.

  There she was. Jack bent and rolled a small snowball. With one final deep breath, he rushed from behind the home, straight towards Kate. She would pay for her mischievousness. Red caught his eye again, as Kate in a dark red coat and wool hat, raced from behind a tree, her laugh trailing behind her. Jack stopped, and aimed, smashing his snowball right into her back.

  Kate tripped, falling straight forwards. She landed with a small thumb, and stay down. His pulse sped up. Had he hurt her? Jack raced to her side, and touched her back.

  Just then she whipped around and snow slammed into his face, her laugh surrounding him. As cold snow dripped from his cheeks and nose, her blue eyes came into focus. Jack swallowed hard. When had her eyes become so beautiful? Somewhere between the age of 12 and 13. And ever since then these eyes had entranced him.

  “Jack,” a voice called to him.

  The image before him faded in and out, and he flinched again as something cold hit his back.

  “Jack,” the girl laying beside him said as tears swelled in her eyes. “Come back to me. Be my husband.”

  How he wanted to be her husband. To love her forever. With his black mitten clad hands, he reached to the girl’s cheek, and
brushed away a chestnut curl.

  “I will become your husband,” he whispered.

  “Then come back to me,” she said as she faded out and left him in the darkness. He lay still noticing that the heat had left him. The burning was gone. He must no longer be in Arizona, but where was he?

  A hard table lay under him, instead of a hard ground. He could feel cool wood pressing into his skin. Only a thin blanket seemed to cover his body. No shirt, jacket.

  “Jack please, come back and marry me.”

  Kate. His eye flew open, and he spotted Kate standing in front of him with red-rimmed eyes. Her hair a disarray. Her mouth which hung open, slowly turned into a full smile as excitement danced in her eyes. “You’re awake.” She turned to a large brown curtain. “Doctor. He’s awake.”

  She turned back to him, and cupped his face with her hands before planting a kiss on his lips. The slight press of sweet lips, made noticeable the pain covering every inch of him. He closed his eyes as the gunfight and hard race came back to him. Somehow, someway they must have gotten away, and survived. Maybe they even made it to the next town over.

  He opened his eyes again even though a weight wanted to push them back down. He had no idea how long he had been asleep but he knew that was all he wanted, to sleep for a long time. Not one ounce of strength seemed to remain him.

  An older gentleman came into his vision. The man’s smile pushed back his grey bushy mustache.

  “I think young man, you’ve just beat some pretty high odds.” He handed a mug to Kate. “Get him to drink this. It will help him gain back his energy.”

  Kate took the offered mug, and lowered it to his lips, as the man, he assumed was the doctor, walked away. He took one sip of the beef broth and stared into her eyes. A million questions floated through his mind, but he didn’t care about them. He only cared about one thing.

  “Preacher,” he whispered, his voice just a harsh whisper.

  She ignored him and brought the mug back to his face, but he moved his mouth away.

  “I want to get married. Now.”

  Kate lowered the mug. “You always were impatient.” A small smile flitted across her face. “But you need to gain your strength. Drink this and I’ll see about the preacher.”

  He let her bring the mug to his lips again and he took another sip.

  “Besides,” she continued there isn’t much we need to worry about right now. The sheriff and his men caught Leila and her brother, hiding out at the base of some mountain.” A harsh chuckle escaped her. “And wouldn’t you know that wasn’t their real names. They were con-men.” Her brows rose. “Married to each other con men.”

  Shock reverberated through him. Leila and Travis had been married. Dear Lord, what had him and Kate almost fallen victim to?

  She gave him another sip. A strand of hair fell out of her disheveled bun, and warmth swept through him. Her dress might look ragged and black circles might accent her eyes, but to him, she was still beautiful. He finished the broth and she sat the mug aside. She gripped his hands and a lightness filled her eyes. She choked up as she said. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

  She brought his hands to her lips and softly kissed them sending sweet pleasure through him.

  “Which is why we need the preacher. I don’t want to wait another second,” he said.

  The smile on her face widened and she lowered his hands back onto the hard bed, he lay on. “I guess I best go see about fetching one.”

  Jack watched her leave, and though he felt so weak and tired, an energy piled through him. Soon he would finally get what he never realized he wanted. Kate as his wife. Until death do them part.

  Later on that day with her hair gently pulled back in a bun and wearing a borrowed blue linsey-woolsey dress, Kate held his hand as he lay on the bed, and vowed to love her forever. And she him.

  The End

  19. The Factory Bride’s Salvation

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  ONE

  Lori stood on a shady lawn that rolled down a sloping hill. The sky above was perfectly blue, dotted here and there with white, candy-puffed clouds. At her feet, a stone walkway stretched to the front door of a large stone manor house, built of mellow golden stone.

  She craned her head back, looking up. The house was lovely. The stones were the color of butter in the spring sunshine, which washed the walls with pale yellow rays from every corner. Trellises of climbing roses in red and snowy white shades, spiraled around the building, neatly trimmed; the skill of the gardener was definitely hard to ignore. Wrought iron balconies curved out from the façade, and there were two large arched doors of bronze-colored wood, a gilt-shade metallic bell hanging beside it.

  Most enchanting were the evergreen gardens that spread far and wide, emancipating an alluring scent, quite undoubtedly intoxicating its victim. Intense sunlight sieved through the leaves, which formed bushy crowns of trees, the cool breeze rustling through them consequently, catching Lori’s attention.

  “Lori!” Her mother appeared at one of the balconies wearing an elegant champagne-colored dress; her blond hair was held up, wrapped in a neat bun with pearly minute pins, and she looked young and beautiful. Beside her, stood Lori’s dad, clad in a jet-black frock coat and formal trousers, his hair disheveled by the wind, and his hazel eyes glinting in the pastel lemon light.

  “Lori, dear, watch out!” His voice was loud and clear, piercing through the constant whisper of leaves. As she glanced up to meet his gaze, still dazed, she observed it drifting from her strong-jawed, whitish face to a vacant space behind her. Unwilling to lose sight of her handsome, rich parents; she was slow in her movements as she lethargically began to turn around. Absorbing every trifle detail of their faces, as if they would melt into thin air; to find a rugby slice through thin air and strike, with quite a heavy force, against her cheek causing a deep red color to climb up her skin immediately. Furious, she turned around to see three— no four teenage boys laughing hysterically behind her. Her brothers.

  Charlie, who still stood with arms drawn in an arc as if preparing to serve a shoot, quite evidently seemed the devil behind the joke. His laughter, however, had ceased and was now looking intently at her cheek with a stiffened expression as he began motioning towards her. Lori, however, drew back, her lips curved into an evil smirk as she grabbed the rugby ferociously and with a full swing, smacked it right on his face. The constant, uncontrollable laughter came to a halt as everyone, including her parents, had been rendered speechless as their dumb-struck gazes passed from Lori to the crimson-faced Charlie who also portrayed an expression of utter surprise.

  “Ah, my fifth son.” She swiftly turned on her heels to see her father smiling sarcastically towards her. She could feel her heart beating much faster.

  “Always a tom-boy,” her mother added with a chuckle. And, then, the uneasy short-lived silence melted into her family’s laughter.

  Lori could not be merrier. She felt on the top of the world. The soft wind whispered through her chocolate-colored hair, tousling them as a sea of mirth washed her face. This was just perfect, she thought.

  Yes, too perfect, spoke a voice at the back of her head. Too perfect, my dear Lori. Too perfect. Wake up now…

  Lori felt the ground give way under her. She reached out, as if to catch at her brother, but her hand went through him. He was as insubstantial as air. The green lawn and the golden mansion and the charming lady and her husband and the jovial boys running on the soft turf flew away from her, and she felt an intense pain flare up her arms.

  She sat upright with a jolt. Her head had been resting on a small, wooden desk with her brunette hair, falling in long, messy curls on its side and a huge pile of files slept upon her elbows, causing her to wake up out of fierce agony.

  “Ugh,” she said, with
disgust as the depressing atmosphere of the cotton factory came into view, pulling her out of the flawless fantasy with a jerk, the harsh reality slapping her fiercely across the face. Oblivious of an arm resting upon her shoulder, she continued grumbling about the awfully low wages and the lack of practice of labor laws when a tug upon her upper arm made her jump out of surprise. Startled, she turned around to find the head manager facing her, his expression extremely grim.

  “Uh-oh,” she muttered under her breath as he continued to stare at her with serene, charcoal-black eyes.

  Finally, he spoke out, “Miss Smith, you have involuntarily dozed off to sleep for the third time in a row. I remind you that this careless behavior of yours shall not be tolerated any longer and if this happens again, even one more time,” he said, his tone dripping with severity,” I shall be forced to dismiss you without any regret. Besides, there are a million unemployed men and women raising their heads for this job so it is advised that you take your work seriously. Lest you are stripped off this occupation which would obviously leave you penniless,” he added with a chuckle, which sent a spark of hatred through her blood compelling her to return his gaze with an equal sternness though it later transformed into an utmost loathing. Without waiting for a reply, the obnoxious man turned on his heels and briskly walked away, leaving Lori staring after him with profound abhorrence.

  The loud sound of machinery echoed her ears and a sickening feeling began to enthrall her soul, sucking the air out of her as she quietly stationed herself in her seat. Each and every cell of her body cried out for liberty— freedom, from this miserable job and for once in her life, some little comfort.

  TWO

  Lori stepped out of the factory, pushing the heavy brass doors open one evening, and inhaled lungful of fresh, soft air. The polluted air in the cotton factory had clogged her lungs and every evening when she swallowed the pure air lingering in the environment, it seemed to her as if God Himself had dropped heaven into her chest. However, the loud noises from the throng of people who ambushed the roads were very sickening. A market day, obviously, Lori thought with annoyance, it would take quite a time to reach home, considering the rush…