Accidental Mail Order Bride: A Clean Western Romance
Page 4
“Miss Jameson, if God has any sense of justice in this world, you won’t be hurt at all. You’ll survive, and you’ll go to San Francisco and…” His voice broke and he rocked back and forth. “Don’t go to San Francisco,” he whispered to her. “Don’t go. Stay here with me. God knows I have nothing to offer you, not a lady like you, but dammit, Cora Jameson, you make me laugh and you make me think and you made me hope again. I was dead when I came here. I cam to escape the world because I was sure there was nothing good in it. And you…you were the one who showed me differently.”
Silence. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and she said nothing. Samuel bent his head, squeezing his eyes shut so as not to let the tears escape.
You should pray, Mr. Ellis.
“Cora.” His voice was low. “You never believe me when I tell you this, but it’s true: you have the best heart of any woman I’ve ever met. I looked around myself at the world and I thought no one like you existed anywhere. Those who told you that you were wicked and worthless…they’re no better than they should be.”
He thought he heard a noise, but it was only the wind pelting against the sides of the cabin. He looked at her still face and felt rage welling up inside his chest. He should pray, should he? He should thank God for his life? Very well, then, he would thank God for everything—and he would tell God just what he thought of this.
“You brought me an angel,” he said, his eyes fixed on the roof of the cabin. “Do you hear that? I know. You sent one of your angels here, and whatever you intended with her, I don’t think she even knows that she is. She thinks she’s a wicked soul, and I think you should answer for that. I think you should answer for lifting her up high and betraying her with that man before. And I think you should answer for this. She should have born to a quiet little town where she could meet a good man and have babies in the cradle by now. Instead, you’ve treated her cruelly. You’ve brought her to this piece of land, and you’ll send her to a lecherous drunkard if she recovers. If you had any thought of justice, you’d have done better by this woman, do you hear me? Do you hear me, God?” He was shouting now, his hands balled into fists. He’d pushed himself up at some point, and he was shouting at the raging winds and the storm that had killed her, he was sure.
And then he heard it. The faintest noise, just the barest movement behind him. He whirled, his cheeks flaming, and saw her blue eyes open and staring at him. Incredibly, her lips cracked in a smile.
“You shouldn’t say such things, Mr. Ellis.”
He dropped to his knees, his hands finding hers. “I don’t care. You’re awake. You’re alive.”
“I am, by the grace of—”
“Don’t say it!”
“I shall say it,” she said, smiling. “For God did do something for me, Mr. Ellis. He brought me to you.”
He could not believe his ears. “But…”
“Mr. Ellis, forgive me. I know you will think me forward, but I must say what is in my heart, however wicked.”
“Never wicked,” Samuel said instantly. “You have never been wicked in your whole life, Cora Jameson. You have been a gift from…from…”
“From?” she prompted, her smile infectious. Her fingers tightened around his.
He only looked at her, eyes roving over the familiar smile, the blue eyes, the serene beauty. “Cora, will you do me the honor of being my wife? I know I could never provide for you as a fine gentleman would, but—”
“I don’t need that,” she interrupted him. “I don’t. It’s no matter to me if we live in a city or on a homestead, Mr. Ellis.”
“Call me Samuel.”
“Samuel.” She faltered, and her cheeks flamed. “I don’t need any luxuries. I’ve had them all, and I would rather spend my days milking goats than going to fine parties. There’s peace here, and beauty—and you, Mr. Ellis. Samuel, that is. I would rather be with you than anywhere else in the world.”
“Thank God,” he said at last, and he gathered her into her arms as she laughed delightedly. “Thank God. We’ll be married tomorrow if you wish, or the day after. We can have a fine big wedding with—”
“The cows?” She was laughing against his shoulder, and she settled back in the bed to squeeze his fingers. “What fine witnesses they will make.”
“Don’t forget the chickens.” He stood and went to set the kettle to boiling.
“And the goats,” she rejoined, smiling. She pushed back the covers. “I’ll bake the bread for our dinner.”
“You stay,” he ordered. “I’ll bake it.”
“But you—”
“I will take care of you. Now you stay there until I can get the doctor here to look at that cut on your head.” He smiled fondly at her, and took the book from the table to put it in her hands. “Maybe you could read a chapter?”
And so she read, her voice low and sweet against the whistle of the wind, and the smell of baking bread filled the cabin. Samuel settled in his rocking chair, smiling as he watched the lantern light play over her face, and thought that he had everything he had ever wanted.
***
Thank you for reading Accidental Mail Order Bride! I sincerely hope you enjoyed this story, and I hope you will take just a few moments to leave a review and let other readers know what you thought. If you’d like to be know when books are available or on sale, you can sign up for the mailing list HERE.
Though Cora and Samuel are a product of my imagination, the Easter Sunday Blizzard of 1873 was a real event, and a disastrous one. The winter had been unusually mild, and many inhabitants had built lean-tos instead of proper cabins. There was hardly any warning, as the day dawned clear and bright, and remained so up until noon. Settlers later recalled the eerie, unnatural stillness that preceded the blizzard. By the time clouds appeared in the southwest, it was too late for many to reach shelter—and their houses could not protect them from the storm. The storm quite literally blew houses to shreds and overturned buildings. Samuel’s stubbornness and determination to build a proper house, mocked by the other homesteaders, saved his life and Cora’s.
Thank you so much for reading,
Sarah