The Easter Mail-Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides, Book 11)

by Kit Morgan

  A hand was placed behind his head and he had to squint to see. The room was dark and it was not his own. He closed his eyes. “Where am I?”

  “You’re at Doc White’s place.

  “I am?” he said, dazed. The woman must be Doc’s wife. “How’d I get here?”

  “Pastor Luke fetched Doc, and we brought you here in the buggy. It was easier than trying to get you home. Besides, you don’t want your folks getting sick – not to mention that pretty new wife of yours.”

  Jess lay there as the fog in his brain cleared. His eyes sprang open. “Wife?!”

  “Yes, don’t you remember?”

  “Great Scott! I’m married?”

  “Of course. She’s in the parlor. The poor thing’s been worried sick about you the entire time. Land sakes, your folks don’t even know you’re here – no one’s had a chance to tell them.”

  Suddenly it hit him. The stage … Mrs. Brock … Sarah Grace. Her pretty face flashed before his eyes, and he sighed.

  “Are you in pain, Jess? Is your head hurting?” Mrs. White asked.

  “Married …”

  “Yes, you certainly are. She’s beautiful, but of course you already knew that. Where did she come from? She has an accent, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

  “Accent?” Jess thought back and tried to recall the few words they’d spoken to each other. Good grief, how did he miss her accent? Was he that sick? Apparently …

  “I’d let her come see you, but Doc doesn’t want anyone too close to you, you understand. A crying shame it is, too, it being your wedding day and all …”

  Jess groaned. The poor girl was probably a wreck. Some first day in town she was having!

  “Would you like me to tell her anything for you?” Mrs. White asked.

  “Yes, tell her …” Good grief, tell her what? He couldn’t exactly ask Mrs. White to make sure she got home all right – his parents didn’t even know he was married! Or did they? No, Mrs. White said no one had told them he was there, so how could they?

  “Tell her I’ll be fine and … and … Mrs. White, I need to speak with Pastor Luke.”

  “Oh Jess, you’re not that sick!”

  Jess sighed. He was so tired, and his chest felt like someone had run a cattle drive across it. “I need to speak with him … please …” He closed his eyes. “Please …”

  “Oh, you poor dear,” she said. “Maybe you are that sick.”

  My thoughts exactly …, he mused right before he lost consciousness again.

  * * *

  Sarah paced back and forth in the parlor. Her new husband was still out cold, as far as she knew. He had a fever; she could tell that just by looking at him. It was something she’d seen numerous times before when she was younger. Her father had been good at doctoring and never turned anyone away, not even Rebels during the war. That had gotten him locked up, and her shipped off to her aunt’s in Louisiana. She just hoped and prayed that Jess Templeton didn’t have the kind of fever that could take a man’s life, like the one had taken her father in the Union military prison in Indianapolis, like the one that had taken her aunt this last winter …

  Footsteps. Sarah spun at the sound. “How is Mr. Templeton? Is he awake yet?”

  “He was for a few moments,” the doctor's wife told her. “But he's … resting again. That boy was plumb determined to marry you today, that's for sure.”

  “Yes,” Sarah agreed. “He was.” She turned away, her hands clasped in front of her, and had to resist the temptation to wring them. Just because her new husband was sick didn't mean he was going to die. “Can I see him?” She knew what the answer would be, but wanted to ask anyway.

  “No, that's not a good idea. Why don't you go home and get some rest now? Jess will be fine here with me until Doc gets back.”

  Sarah turned to her, eyes downcast. “That's going to be rather hard to do …”

  “Oh, I almost forgot – Pastor Adams wanted you to go back to his place after you were done here. He said he and Winnie would take care of you.”

  Sarah sighed in relief. Thank the Lord! She’d had no idea where she was going to spend the night. Especially when her new husband's family hadn't a clue she was there, let alone that she was their daughter-in-law.

  “Do you remember how to get there?” Mrs. White asked.

  “Yes, I believe so.” After Pastor Adams and the doctor had loaded her husband into the buggy, it had been a rough ride, but they'd managed. Thank heavens Independence was a small town, so it wouldn't be hard to retrace her steps. What had been hard was getting Jess out of the buggy and into a bed. Between wrestling with a half-conscious man, the long journey she'd made and the shock and subsequent relief of wondering whether or not she'd have to try and make it on her own, she was worn out. “Are you sure there's nothing else I can do?”

  “Let Pastor Adams get you home, that’s what you can do. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep. You can see your new husband in the morning.”

  Sarah nodded, looked grimly at the hallway where several patient rooms were located, then headed for the front door. “Thank you for all your kindness. Is someone going to try to tell his folks what happened?”

  “I suspect they'll be heading home from the Rudshaws’ anytime now. Pastor Luke will tell them when he takes you there.”

  Sarah tried not to audibly gulp. How awkward would that be? To be taken to a house you've never been in, meet your in-laws who didn't know you existed, and without your husband …

  It didn’t bear thinking about. She gave Mrs. White a weak nod and smile, and left.

  The doctor's house was on a small side street near the end of town. Doc White explained he liked it there because it was quieter for his patients. But this particular Sunday wasn’t as quiet as he’d hoped. No sooner had they gotten Jess settled but he’d had to leave again to go check a man who'd fallen off his horse heading home after church. Who knew how long that was going to take?

  She turned in the direction of the church and began to walk. By now it was late afternoon and she was growing hungry again. When she got there and the wonderful smell of food wafted to her on the porch, she became downright ravenous. The poor clergyman and his wife were probably just sitting down to Easter supper. She hated to disturb them, but he had requested that she come back, so she knocked.

  Within moments the door swung open. “Well, welcome back, Miss… uh, I mean, Mrs. Templeton,” Pastor Adams said. “Come in, come in. How is Jess doing?”

  “Mrs. White says he's resting. I wasn't able to see him.”

  “That's probably for the best. He's not the first to get sick and I'm sure he won't be the last, but it's not like it's a simple cold. I'd hate to have you catch it too. It wouldn’t do to have two sick newlyweds.”

  She knew he was teasing her, but she couldn’t make herself smile. “I understand. I've seen what sickness can do to people.”

  He studied her a moment as he closed the door. “Are you hungry? Winnie and I were just sitting down to supper.”

  “Oh, I’d hate to impose…”

  “Not at all. Besides, how often do we get to have supper with a newlywed?”

  This time she smiled at the joke and followed him into the dining parlor. His wife looked up as they entered. “There you are. We set an extra plate, hoping you'd show up in time for supper.”

  Sarah glanced between them. “You did?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Besides, you must be starving by now. Please sit down.” Winnie pointed at a nearby chair and smiled.

  Sarah sat and smiled back, not sure of what else to say. She was exhausted and feared that once she ate something, she'd have to fight to stay awake.

  Pastor Adams sat at the head of the table, his wife on one side of him, Sarah on the other, and said a quick blessing. When he was done, he looked at Sarah. “I've never married anyone on Easter before. This is a first.”

  “Have you done a lot of weddings?” she asked.

  “Lately quite a few,
” he said and winked at his wife. “Haven't we, dear?”

  “That we have! And every last one has involved a mail-order bride.”

  Sarah perked up at that. “Really? Have you pastored here long?”

  “It’ll be a year in May.”

  “I see,” Sarah said as he pushed a bowl of potatoes toward her. She spooned some onto her plate, then passed them across the table to his wife. “How long have you two been married?”

  “Since July,” his wife said. “Oh, and you can call me Winnie. We might as well get to know each other.”

  “Yes, you'll find everybody knows everybody else around here,” he added. “Most folks just call me Pastor Luke.”

  “All right, I will,” she said, enjoying their friendly banter. “So did you meet here?”

  Pastor Luke and Winnie exchanged a quick glance. “I was his mail-order bride,” she announced happily.

  “Oh my! So you're used to this sort of thing.”

  “Actually, you're the first one that got married the same day you stepped off the stage” Pastor Luke informed her.

  “Yes. All the rest courted for a few weeks before they got married … always because the grooms didn't know their brides were coming.”

  “Do tell?” Sarah said weakly.

  “Terrible shame Jess isn't feeling well,” Winnie sighed, “but I'm sure he'll be right as rain in a week.”

  “A week?” Sarah said and tried not to groan. Good heavens, what was she going to do in the meantime? What would his parents do, for that matter?

  “I know it's horrible timing, you just getting married and all, but better safe than sorry,” Pastor Luke said. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can stay with us.”

  “We have a guest room, and it wouldn't be the first time we've had a bride under our roof,” Winnie told her.

  “The others were prospective brides,” Pastor Luke clarified. “You're our first real bride.”

  “Now that that’s settled,” Winnie said without giving Sarah a chance to speak, “why don't we enjoy Easter supper and get to know each other better?” She looked at Sarah, a wide grin on her face. “Tell us about yourself.”

  Sarah stiffened in her chair. What could she say? How much should she tell? It was such a tragic story …

  “Where are you from?” Winnie asked.

  Sarah's eyes darted between the two. Maybe if she took a forkful of food she wouldn’t have to answer. But she was no coward and these people were being very kind to her. “I'm from Ohio, originally. A town called New Richmond, upriver from Cincinnati.”

  “Originally?” Pastor Adams prompted. “Where did you come from as a mail-order bride?”

  “Louisiana.”

  They exchanged a quick glance. “New Orleans?” they asked in unison.

  Sarah nodded. “Yes, I understand I'm not the first to come from there. The woman at the establishment told me.”

  “Mrs. Ridgley's bridal service?” Winnie asked with a smile.

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “She's my aunt!”

  “She is? She didn't tell me. Only that she'd sent some brides to Oregon – she never told me exactly where in the state.

  “What took you from Ohio to Louisiana? Pastor Luke asked as he sliced the lamb roast and put some pieces on Winnie's plate.

  He did the same for Sarah, who smiled at his kind action. “My father died.”

  “Oh, we’re sorry to hear that,” Winnie said. “He died recently then?”

  “No, just before the war ended. I went to live with an aunt in Slidell, Louisiana, but she passed away in January.” Sarah stared at her plate, not wanting to look at them as memories of her aunt’s last breaths echoed in her mind.

  “You have no other family?” Pastor Luke asked.

  She shook her head, then cut a piece of lamb and put it in her mouth. It was heavenly.

  “No family to speak of, so you became a mail-order bride …” Winnie mused. “Well, you certainly came to the right place. Independence is a wonderful town and I'm sure you'll be very happy here. I know I am.”

  Sarah looked up at her encouraging words. “I'm sure I will be in time. But first Mr. Templeton needs to get well.”

  “He does have a first name, you know,” said Winnie.

  Sarah gave her shy smile. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling him by it soon enough.”

  “Yes, you will, once you’re able to see him,” Winnie agreed with a smile. “In the meantime we'll help you get settled.”

  “By that she means informing the Templetons that they have a new daughter-in-law,” Pastor Adams explained. “Don't worry – we’re not going to just spring you on them. We’ll handle everything.”

  Sarah's shoulders slumped in relief. She hadn’t realized how worried she'd been about that until he’d said the words. “Thank you so much. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

  “Well, I'm sure they at least suspected you were coming. It's pretty hard to keep a secret like a mail-order bride under wraps for long.”

  Sarah swallowed hard. “That's just it – they didn't know I was coming at all. In fact, neither did Jess.”

  “What?” Winnie asked.

  “I'm afraid my new husband was another victim of your town’s ‘mad matchmaker’.”

  Luke and Winnie exchanged a quick glance, then gaped at her.

  Sarah shrugged and took a bite of potatoes.

  Four

  “Jess, wake up!”

  Jess opened his eyes slowly, unsure of where he was, but he did recognize the voice.

  “Are ya that bad off, son? We had no idea you'd taken such a turn.”

  Jess looked up into the concerned face of his father. “Pa?” He croaked.

  “Try and rest, son. We just wanted to make sure you were doin’ all right. Doc White stopped by our place on the way home from the Smiths. We thought maybe you'd got to feelin’ better and went to one of your friends’ houses for supper.”

  Jess closed his eyes. “Not exactly.” Obviously his parents hadn't heard the news yet, since his mother wasn’t pitching a fit.

  Mrs. White entered, went to the bed and laid a cool cloth on his forehead. “There now, that ought to make you feel a little better. Do you think you can get down some broth?”

  His mother sat on the bed. “Can't you see he's weak? Give it to me and I'll feed it to him.”

  “What a blessing to have so many concerned folks around you, eh, Jess?” Mrs. White commented. “Your folks, your wife … before you know it, half the town will have come to visit you.”

  “They will, won’t they?” Mrs. Templeton agreed with a smile.

  Mr. Templeton, on the other hand … “Wife?!”

  “Why, yes!” Mrs. White replied. “Hasn't Pastor Luke brought the girl out to your place yet? I thought by now he'd have delivered her.”

  “Mrs. Templeton stared at her in shock. “Girl? What girl?”

  Jess groaned. Here it comes …

  “Oh dear,” Mrs. White said as she stepped back. She looked at Jess, who had reached up and pulled the cloth over his eyes. He laid there, grimacing. “I … I assumed by now you knew …”

  “Knew what?” Mrs. Templeton asked as she abruptly stood.

  “That … that …” Mrs. White stammered.

  “Not now, Ma – I don’t feel so well,” Jess moaned.

  Mrs. Templeton was past the point of caring, though. She turned to her son on the bed, reached down and snatched the cloth away. “What is she talking about?”

  Jess peered at her with one eye, then slowly opened the other. “Congratulate me, Ma. I'm married.”

  “What?!” his parents both cried.

  “You can't be married!” his mother huffed. “For Heaven’s sake, you left church with a bad cough and now we find you here at Doc White’s! How on earth did you get married in the in-between time?”

  His father blanched. “Good Lord, ya didn't marry Bernice Caulder, did ya?”

  As sick as he was, his
father's remark irked him. “Now, Pa, there’s nothing wrong with Bernice. Be kind.”

  “Er … well … I mean, I know Mrs. Caulder and your mother …”

  “… had things all arranged!” his wife finished sternly. She turned back to Jess.

  Jess stared at her with a glazed look. He was tired, incredibly so and needed to rest. He'd have to deal with his parents when he had more strength. “Ma, what's done is done. Let's not talk about it now.”

  “We will talk about it now! How on earth can you possibly be married?”

  “Easily enough, seeing as how she arrived on the morning stage,” Mrs. White chimed in.

  Jess silently thanked God. Let Mrs. White fight this battle for him – he needed rest.

  “Morning stage!” His mother screeched. She looked at him again. “The only sort of bride that would come in on a stage is …”

  “A mail-order bride,” his father finished. “You got a mail-order bride?”

  Jess did his best to swallow. It hurt. He closed his eyes again. “Like I said before, what's done is done.”

  “How could this have happened?” His mother cried. “However did you get a mail-order bride?”

  Jess was too tired to answer. Poor Sarah – his mother was likely to give her an earful. Hopefully his father would help soften the blow.

  But for now, that looked unlikely. “Sam Blazes, son! Don't tell me you were the victim of that crazy matchmaker!”

  His mother gasped. “The mad matchmaker?” She looked between her husband and son. “Merciful heavens, he’s struck again!”

  “I often thought it might be a ‘she’ myself.” Mrs. White commented.

  “He, she – what does it matter?” Mr. Templeton said as he began to pace beside the bed. “Our son got sent a mail-order bride and now we gotta deal with it. I’ll go first thing in the mornin’ and see about the return stage and train fare.”

  Jess shook his head. That was a bad idea – the room started spinning. “Pa, 's too late for that …”

  “I think you’d better leave him now,” Mrs. White said. “Can’t you see he’s too tired to talk?”

  “I'm not leaving until we get this straightened out!” his mother snapped.