Mail Order Bride – Falling for Beth: Clean Sweet Western Cowboy Romance (Seasons Mail Order Brides Book 2)

by Annie Lane

  Falling for Beth

  Seasons Mail Order Brides – Book Two

  Annie Lane

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Sneak Peek — Alice in Winterland

  Also by Annie Lane

  Connect with Annie

  About Annie

  for those who love, believe and trust

  Copyright Annie Lane © 2015

  annielanebooks.wordpress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious, and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Montana

  September 1st, 1886

  In the tiny north-western town of Conrad, where men were considered to be real men — determined, sturdy and capable of wrangling cattle the size of boulders — prestige was measured by hours of back-breaking work rather than by gain or good fortune.

  On that basis, Earl Mason Junior might have seemed to some to be a little lacking. But while he was somewhat slight in stature, having not long celebrated his eighth birthday, it wasn’t for lack of trying — and he sat up as tall and proud in that diner chair as any grown man in town.

  His brown eyes sparkled with delight as he watched Mrs. Louise Calhoun’s fingers swirl and twist and dance across a thin sheet of paper. The woman glanced up briefly at Junior and smiled kindly before lowering her eyes back to the table to finish off the very last paragraph.

  The two of them had been hard at work for almost an hour and their letter was coming together nicely. With every gentle flick of her wrist, Junior’s dreams of bringing a bride all the way over from Seattle were becoming more of a reality. One of those mail order brides. And he had his heart set on one in particular.

  A small two-seater table had been placed at the far side of The Coffee Grande. Louise had taken it upon herself to rearrange the furniture just so, reserving the area for important affairs such as the matter at hand, and Junior couldn’t have been more pleased — parked there as he was, Junior was the envy of every customer who walked on through the door. Some wondered at the odd pairing sitting back off in the shadows. Others speculated as to the nature of their business. Thankfully though, most folk weren’t bothered either way, and simply finished off their slice of Louise’s famously juicy Huckleberry pie instead.

  Junior’s legs twitched with anticipation, his toes barely brushing the floor as he swung them back and forth, and when Louise finally placed the pen back down and clasped her fingers together in front of her, he couldn’t contain his excitement a moment longer. “Read the last part out loud, Mrs. Calhoun … just in case you missed somethin’.”

  Louise took a deep breath and ran her eyes over the page. Junior had made her promise to write the letter out word for word, exactly as he spoke it, and while most of the lines were grammatically incorrect, and some of the letter was too much like nonsense, she knew the sentiments came from a place deep inside the boy, so Louise reckoned she was in no position to judge.

  …we sure do look forward to hearing from you, Miss Beth, and I’m not just sayin’ that either. Conrad’s a real nice place to live and I promise I’ll be on my best behavior at all times, and if I forget, on account of me not remembering that is, then I sincerely apologize in advance.

  Kind regards,

  Earl Junior. (And Snog.) (And Lightning.)

  Junior sat back in the chair and grinned, slowly nodding his head. “I don’t know much about letter writing, Mrs. Calhoun, but it seems to me you’ve sure done a fine job of it.”

  He sipped his tea with a thoughtful expression, and then swished the sugar around the bottom of his cup until it looked like a whirlpool. Satisfied that he’d said everything that needed saying, he gulped down the last mouthful and jumped to his feet.

  “I reckon if this Beth lady don’t fall madly in love with my Pa after everything we just told her, then she might just have rocks in her head where her brains ought to be.”

  Louise chuckled and folded the paper neatly in two, thoroughly enjoying the child’s company. “Your heart’s in the right place, I’ll give you that, Junior … but you and I both know what your Pa would do if he ever caught you talking about a young lady that way.”

  “I reckon he’d take to clippin’ me a good one right behind the ear.”

  Louise straightened her skirts and walked across the diner to Conrad’s make-shift post office. While construction was well and truly under way on the new building opposite, Louise was in no hurry for it to be completed. She sure didn’t mind the passing traffic it brought through her establishment, and on more than one occasion she’d completely sold out of pies long before the day was even done.

  But a huge celebration had been proposed — the Mayor himself announcing it at the town meeting — and now the streets were abuzz in anticipation of Conrad’s first official Thanksgiving Day Harvest Bazaar.

  “I’ll get this letter off in the morning and then we’ll simply wait on a reply.” Louise walked back to the table and gathered up the dirty cups and saucers. “Patience is a virtue, Junior … we can’t rush these things.”

  Junior swallowed, hard. “Promise you won’t speak a word of it to Miss Charlotte?”

  “Are you sure you want to keep Mrs. Ackerman in the dark?” Louise cocked her head to one side, dubiously. “It might serve to benefit our cause if we had her consent, being that she knows Beth better than anyone else here in Conrad. The girl might need some convincing, and Charlotte could be just the trick, don’t you think?”

  Junior thought on the idea for a while, but eventually shook his head. “No, I want it to stay a surprise. Surprises make people happy, real happy, and I reckon Miss Charlotte could use that at the moment.”

  Junior glanced first over his left shoulder and then slowly over his right — making sure Mabel Clay wasn’t within ear shot. “Just between me and you … I don’t think she’s likin’ being married to Mr. Ackerman, from what I can gather at least. Not one little bit, in fact!”

  Louise gasped, her mouth falling open. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, they … they cries a lot, you see Mrs. Calhoun, the both of them. It gets worse once it’s dark time, it’s all you can hear comin’ from across the valley, all that moaning and whimpering and howling like they’re just two of the saddest people ever been born. Pa tells me to come inside when it gets real bad, on account of him not wantin’ me gettin’ upset or nothin’. He’s a good man like that my Pa, always lookin’ out for m
e, but that don’t mean I don’t hear it all the same.”

  Louise blushed and pulled her lip between her teeth to cover her amusement. If she remembered anything of being a newlywed then she figured it highly possible that Charlotte was not quite as miserable as Junior considered. In fact, she was probably about as happy as a puppy with two tails, if the truth be told, but it was not the sort of truth to be explaining to a child.

  “I reckon they’ll be just fine … just fine indeed, Junior, don’t you lose sleep over it my little friend. Now take home the rest of these scones for Earl or he might become suspicious. If your Pa’s under the assumption that you came by after school to sample one of my new recipes, then you’d better take something back with you to support your case. I surely don’t like deceiving him, that’s the very last thing I set out to do — but I guess it’s for the best in the long run. A very wise woman once told me that things aren’t always as they appear.”

  She smiled kindly and patted Junior’s head as she watched his face light up brighter than a firefly’s shadow at midnight. That was his Ma’s favorite saying, and it always made him feel like she was right there inside Junior’s heart whenever he heard it, curling her love all the way around him and holding him tight.

  “Thanks for everything today, Mrs. Calhoun. I sure do appreciate it.” He shoved the scones into his pocket, picked up his scattered school books from the floor and headed toward the door. “And I promise I won’t forget your one and only request in return. Drop by first thing in the morning and there’ll be a fresh pail of milk waiting for ya over by the fence.”

  Chapter 2

  Elizabeth Edwards stared longingly at the empty bed across from her. The room had once been bright, sunny and full of laughter, but since the day Charlotte Bates – her oldest and dearest friend — fled Saint Anne’s Orphanage for a better life in Montana as a mail order bride, it had felt nothing short of stark and barren. On a good day Beth could disguise her miserable state of affairs, but today wasn’t one of those days, and her feather pillow was soaked through to the core as a result.

  With her afternoon chores scheduled to start at any moment, Beth finally blinked away the last of her tears and wiped her nose along her sleeve — it was hardly becoming of a young lady, of course, but rightly or wrongly, she couldn’t care less in that moment for proper manners or social graces or any other sort of etiquette. Her mood was as flat as a pancake, and nothing short of a miracle could shake her out of the slump she’d found herself in over the last few weeks.

  Taking a deep breath, Beth swung her legs from the edge of the bed and sat there a while in hope that the sinking feeling might pass.

  A sparrow chirping outside the bedroom window suddenly caught her attention. The blue sky set a perfect backdrop to the maple trees that lined the street just beyond the building, and she marveled as they changed color a little more with every passing day. The leaves, star-like and veined with gold, were now a hundred different shades of red, orange, yellow and purple. A smattering of green could still be seen here and there, but as the seasons skated seamlessly from one to the other, there came a spectacular fall display the likes of which Seattle had never before witnessed.

  “You’re late.”

  Mr. Graynger scowled at Beth as she dragged her feet into the kitchen. Although he’d once considered keeping her on at the orphanage after she turned eighteen, being that she was a hard worker and rarely complained, he’d changed his mind in light of recent events and decided it best to just throw the baby out with the bath water. “The afternoon’s almost done with and you haven’t even been to the post office yet to collect the mail.”

  He watched as she tied an apron around her waist and then twisted her long, red hair back into a knot at the base of her neck. Knowing full well that she was deliberately baiting him by taking her merry time about it only served to fuel the fire that raged inside him.

  “I’ll be glad to see the back of you. You’re nothing but a drain on my resources, and I curse the very day your mother dumped your sorry self on my doorstep. When’s your birthday again?”

  “Mr. Graynger!” snapped Mistress Belle, glaring across at him. “You know perfectly well it’s not for another month, so until that time the poor girl still has a roof over her head, and whatever her mother’s troubles were, it’s not something she needs reminding of every chance you get. I’d ask that you kindly take your coffee back to your office and leave us in peace.”

  “I’ll do as I please!” Mr. Graynger barked so loud that his whole face shook. “Who do you think you are? If you don’t watch your insubordinate mouth I’ll have you turned out right alongside her. Good luck finding another job that pays as well as this one does.”

  Mistress Belle swallowed the sarcastic scoff that almost burst from her throat. Mr. Graynger was as tight as a wet boot and all who met him knew it to be true. He’d squeeze the life out of a penny if he thought he’d get change from the blessed thing. But she knew jobs were scarce, and although the wage she earned was well below standard, the chances of finding employment at her age — and employment that included accommodation too — would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. So she bit her tongue instead and went back to stirring a pot of soup on the stove.

  Mr. Graynger turned his attention back to Beth and ground his grubby teeth together. “If I catch you sulking again over that conniving little hussy you once called a best friend, then I’ll see fit that you leave this place immediately … and with nothing more than when you arrived.”

  Beth sighed. From what little she knew of her life before Saint Anne’s – and it wasn’t much — her only real clues, coming from the now frayed note her mother had tied to the wicker basket — was that she’d been a sickly baby and impossible for her to cope with. Mistress Belle had found her early one morning, barely weaned, grappling with colic and covered in bed bugs.

  Beth’s heart sank with the thought.

  She never could understand how a mother could dispose of her own flesh and blood so easily. Questions raced around in her head, the pain of which gnawed away at her insides until she felt like she might just burst into tears once again. Did her mother ever love her? Did she miss her? Had she even thought of her since? Of what she might look like, or her disposition?

  Mistress Belle’s voice jerked Beth back to the present.

  “Mr. Graynger!” she shrieked. The ferrety little man was treading a very fine line. “So help me God if you speak ill of Charlotte like that again, I’ll have no choice but to leave you high and dry. Let’s see how you fare running this place without me!”

  Just then, a younger girl walked into the kitchen to collect a stack of serving trays. Her breath caught when she noticed Mr. Graynger’s gaunt face so twisted with anger that she hesitated a moment in the doorway. Refusing to be demoralized in such a blatant fashion in front of his charges, Mr. Graynger turned abruptly on his heels and stormed out of the room without another word. He knocked the girl’s shoulder in the process, the force of which sent coffee lapping all over the sides of his cup, spilling it all over the girl’s clean blouse.

  “Wonderful, something else to do,” Mistress Belle grumbled as she snatched the mop from the utility cupboard and ushered the girl toward the laundry room. Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled a long, exaggerated breath. “Beth, be a dear and check on the babies before you head to the post office. Their nap will be over soon and their diapers will need changing. I’m stretched to the limit right now, and expecting a parcel of linen to arrive from the manufacturers. If you hurry, you might just get there before closing.”

  “Yes Ma’am.” Beth’s voice was filled with anguish.

  “Please don’t let Mr. Graynger upset you. We both know what’s got under his skin, and although that doesn’t look like changing anytime soon, things will work out, you’ll see. A little faith can go a long way, and the good Lord is sure to set you in the right direction.”

  “The good Lord doesn’t know Seattle like I do. There�
�s just no future for me here, that’s been made abundantly clear. I have no family, no money and in a matter of weeks it seems that I’ll have no home either. Whatever will I do?”

  While Mistress Belle wished she had something more helpful to add, a few words of wisdom that might set Beth’s mind at ease, or perhaps something uplifting or inspirational that would bolster her confidence … she was simply far too tired to give it such thought and instead, said the first thing that popped into her head. “Run along now while I clean up this mess.”

  Chapter 3

  Earl Mason tied Lightning – his strongest and most reliable horse — to a fence post by the stables and gave him an extra long drink. The air was cooler now, but with the hours of grueling work they’d just put in, lugging fallen timber behind them for miles and miles, he figured he owed the horse a good spell. He stood back some to admire just how much they’d accomplished in one day.

  The enormous pile of timber from the pines they’d felled from his back two plots, not to mention the three they’d felled the previous day behind the Ackerman’s place, was testament to their labor, and Earl wiped the sweat from his brow as he hauled his legs over the dusty ground toward the house.

  Junior would soon be home from school and then he’d need to make a start on supper. It seemed to Earl that his chores were never ending lately. Inside the house, a mountain of dirty dishes and linens that hadn’t been washed in weeks awaited. If he allowed himself to dwell on it all a sinking feeling came over him. He felt sometimes that he might just drown under the weight of it all.

  Stopping a moment to catch his breath, Earl took a seat on the front steps, stripping his hat from his head and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. It was time for a well-deserved rest. He’d been going at it for hours — no mean feat for one man who was clearly doing the work of two.