Mail Order Bride: 9 Book Boxed set : 9 Brides for 9 Cowboys: CLEAN Western Historical Romance Series Bundle

by Faye Sonja

  She walked up the stairs to the room she had arranged earlier that day just in case they had needed another option and fell onto the bed. Exhaustion was an understatement. When she was growing as a child the one thing the story books never told her was that trying to find a husband was an exhausting job. No, the books had all lied by omission, they had given the impression that all you had to do was put on a nice dress and a smile and all would come easily.

  Oh how deluded she had been. Deluded about so many things including what a family should be like. It was a thought that made her heart weep every single time she thought back to how her brother had caused her to be shunned. She could feel the tears matting the corner of her eyes as she thought about what had been her life.

  Agnes kicked her shoes off and snuggled into the small bed, focusing on her breathing so that her thoughts would be drowned by a welcomed slumber. This was never how she had seen her life growing up. No, she had seen so much more for her future. She was never the kind of Amish girl to want the world, but she had never seen this for herself. In the face of all that her life felt empty... a thought she fell asleep with vowing to change that sad reality by whatever means necessary.

  It was the sound of a door slamming that woke her the next morning and she grabbed the Bible she had slept with under her pillow, bolting out of bed waiting for something to come for her. When nothing did she laid back in bed. The thoughts she had fallen asleep with came flooding back to her and her stomach knotted in sadness and the salty taste of the tears streaming down her face she could taste on her lips.

  “Get it together Agnes. There is too much life left to live,” she said to her tussled reflection in the mirror on the wall. Outside her window she could hear the clopping of horse hooves passing by.

  Making her way down to have breakfast she ate in silence and read the paper, searching the classifieds for any sign of work she could do.

  “How are we today Ms Agnes?” the pleasant girl who had booked her into the inn the day before asked her.

  “We are a tad bit down, but won’t be for long,” she replied.

  The girl smiled at her, then nodding to the classified she said, “Looking for work around here?”

  Agnes nodded. “Do you know of anything?”

  “Well if you don’t mind the young‘uns the library has been searching for a tutor for the children. You could go by there at ten and try your luck.”

  With that the young girl wandered off to get back to her job. Agnes glanced at the clock over the bar. It was but nine. That gave her enough time to get to the library. There was a college close by, she had slept in the library her first night in town. She grabbed a sandwich from the food buffet across the table and had a glass of water. She would really have loved one of those big breakfasts her mother always made, but so much for that. Living her life had become a cycle of making do with what she had and what she could afford and for now this was it. With a kind of sadness overshadowing her mood, she made her way to the library.

  “Okay,” she said to herself as she walked into the quiet space that instantly soothed her, “show me what I can do.”

  She slowly walked over to the librarian’s desk looking around. She was hesitant to talk to anyone, because she certainly didn’t want a repeat encounter of the day before. She stood over the librarian’s desk looking down at her and wondered if she should use her genius some other way.

  No, the best way to find out if there was work was to simply ask. All she could hope for was that the woman would not think that she had somehow come to steal her job. People in this English world were a bit strange.

  “Can I help you?” the older woman looked at her over her oversized spectacles, perfectly fitting the cliché that librarians were old folks who wore thick rimmed glasses and stern scowls.

  Agnes looked at her wondering how she would explain the fact that she was looking for work and finally decided that the best way was to just come out and say it. “Do you have any idea of whom I should speak to about the tutor position here?”

  “Yes,” the librarian replied flatly turning her attention back to the stacks of library cards she was organizing. Agnes waited for her to give her the information she needed, but the woman didn’t.

  “Can you tell me please?”

  The woman answered without lifting her head. “No.”

  Agnes was confused. How was she expected to apply for the job? Maybe she had done something wrong when she walked into the library- walked too loudly or spoke too quickly, because this woman did not look like she had any interest in helping her.

  “Ah, then how am I supposed to apply for the position?”

  The woman sighed and looked up at her. “The person who handles those things is not here just yet. You can wait over there.”

  The tone the woman took with her told her that she was not really interested in her predicament. She looked to where the woman was pointing to and saw a few chairs. She was used to waiting so she thanked her and took a seat, hoping that today would be a better day than yesterday.

  “You again?” the familiar voice of an old man said to her and she looked up to see the smiling face missing some teeth. “Come for the ear I could lend?”

  She smiled. “No, I am hoping to be the new tutor about these parts. I could use the job.”

  “Things did not go as planned I suppose?” he asked, referring to the day before. The one that she was trying hard to forget.

  “No,” she said to him as she hung her head.

  “Well, sometimes I find some things fall apart so better things can come,” he said resting a finger below her chin and lifting her face to look up at him. “Come with me.”

  Without thinking she followed him through the large doors off to the side of the library, ignoring the glare the librarian gave her. He turned left to a posh office; the doors he promptly pushed open.

  “Have you ever worked with young children and babies before?” he asked her.

  “Well, where I am from I worked in the school house and that is about as much experience as I have.”

  “That is good enough,” he said handing her a glass with alcohol. She was about to decline it but thought better of it. “Drink up. It will make you feel better.”

  She turned the glass up and choked as the alcohol burned its way down.

  “What was that?” she asked him clutching at her throat.

  “Brandy,” he said laughing. “Come let me show you where you will work.”

  “You mean I got the job?” she asked in shock.

  “Yes,” he said steering down a hallway. “I just hired you.”

  She looked at the unassuming man and realized that she had done one thing that was very English. She judged him by his appearance. Now she looked at him in a whole different light. She had a feeling they were going to be very good friends.

  He took her to a room to the back of the library where babies who could not yet walk were playing about. As he entered the four toddlers stopped their squawking and crawled to a chair at the front of the room.

  “What are they doing?” she asked him in merry surprise.

  “They are getting ready for story time. I read to them every day at this time.”

  “This is a school house?”

  He looked at her and chuckled. “No, these children are orphaned, so I take care of them.”

  He did not explain more to her, but showed her the books she should read to them from and turned out of the room after she had gotten started. She watched him go and wanted to ask him to stay but the eager little faces looking up at her made her glad to continue reading. And that was where she could be found every day for the following week. She got up in the mornings, ate her breakfast and made her way to the library where she would look after the babies all day. She enjoyed the job and spent her free evenings looking for a room to board as the inn was not a long term option.

  Things seemed to be looking up for her and then it all changed...

  “Fire!” she heard the s
houts as she read to the children one Saturday afternoon. Her door busted open and the old man stood there. “We have to get the babies out now. There is a fire up in the ceiling.”

  “Oh no!” Agnes screamed as she smelled the smoke coming down through the rafters. The old man grabbed three of the children and bolted for the door. She picked up the fourth and followed him. Turning back momentarily to grab her belongings.

  “Young lady, get out of here,” the librarian called to her. “Move it!”

  Agnes reluctantly did as she was told, feeling like a teenager once again, but as she got to the stairs with the faint smell of a fire rolling down from the floor above them, she knew exiting that way was not an option. The old man had been wrong. The smoke was everywhere.

  Sensing her despair the child in her arms began to cry. Her heart skipped a beat or two, or maybe it was three, four or five, she was not sure. The one thing she was sure of was that there was no way she was going to get out through the door ahead of her. She could barely see and she did not know the way well enough to see where the librarian had turned.

  “Hello!” she called out as the smoke stung her eyes and the child in her arms began to cough. She pulled her shawl off and placed it over his mouth and nose.

  “Help!” she hollered again, hoping she would be heard and pointed in the right direction.

  She turned and bolted up the stairs. The panic kicked in when she made it back to the floor she had been on and realized that the smoke was thickening. She ran back and forth and finally found a window. Sticking her head out she saw the crowd gathering below them and knew she had to do something or she and the child would be dead.

  “Help!” she screamed and a woman pointed up to her. Behind her a bookshelf crashed and she knew that things were about to get a whole lot worse for her.

  “We will be fine,” she kept muttering to the child in her arms who calmed down as she held him tight.

  Another beam collapsed and took her confidence with it.

  “No, no, no!” Agnes muttered. The feeling of hopelessness that overwhelmed her was one that blanked all her senses out. Her chest tightened and her mind went back to the helpless feeling she had as a child. Claustrophobia in an open space inoculated her and she couldn’t think straight. All she could see was her eminent death and her mind refused to help her find her way out of it. The child in her arms screamed as another beam crashed down in front of them.

  Trapped!

  That was the only thought she had. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and it wasn’t the heat that caused her to sweat.

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  3

  Chapter THREE

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  “ … The child in her arms screamed… ”

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  Charlie heard the screams as he was exiting the burning library. He stopped and turned back, wondering if he had been imagining it, but Jared, his partner stood next to him listening too.

  “You heard that, right?” Charlie asked Jared.

  “I thought you said everybody was accounted for,” Jared turned to address the old librarian who looked at them in shock. The call for help came again and he dashed back inside pulling his arm from Jared’s grasp.

  “Charlie!” Jared hollered after him. “Don’t do that! The roof just collapsed!”

  “You can’t really expect me to leave a woman in there to die!” he called back as he rushed into the building, pulling his shirt over his nose to stop the inhalation of smoke as best as he could.

  Jared was a coward sometimes... or was it maybe that he was just selfish? Most people described his brother as selfish; he didn’t make sacrifices that didn’t benefit him. It was just the way he was. How he managed to even become a US Marshal was a surprise to Charlie who knew the job required that his brother put himself in some very sticky situations. He loved his brother, he really did, but sometimes he wanted to just slap some sense and selflessness into him. It was so ironic that Jared looked like their mother the most, but had seemingly taken all his characteristics from their father, while Charlie was the opposite. Their parents had done a wonderful job in raising them... may their souls rest in peace.

  He pushed the thought from his mind, knowing what running into a burning building distracted could do. As he climbed the stairs stacked with black smoke, the scent of burning books made him sad. This had been his favorite place even as a child and the old man who now too care of it, George, had become a wise old friend. He knew even then that he would be a part of the rebuilding and restocking of the library.

  “Help me!” the woman sputtered over the smoke she was inhaling. Any longer and she might die of smoke inhalation, but he was even more shocked when he saw the child she held to her chest.

  “I am coming!” he called to her.

  “Thank goodness! Hurry and move this beam blocking my way, I think the baby is unconscious!”

  Charlie tried his best to pull the beam out of her way but it wouldn’t budge, and the fear that he would lose her and the child came creeping up his spine. He looked at her long brunette hair now covered in soot and saw the fear there. He prayed he could help her, for if he couldn’t move the beam then they would all die.

  “Is the baby breathing?” he asked her stifling a cough.

  “Just barely.”

  He was about to suggest she give him the child to take him outside and then he would be back for her, but something told him that he would lose her if he left her for even a second.

  He bent slowly over the woman before stupidly turning his back for a second. His fingers slowly circled a small piece of wood and soon the roof over their heads creaked and the sickening sound of rafters crashing down around them spurred him into action.

  “Get me out of here quick!” she shouted at him. “Or we will all die!”

  True to her words while he was busy trying to rescue his damsel in distress, the structure around them was collapsing and he knew that he would not be able to make it back out the way they had come in. In one last great effort the beam shifted and the roof above collapsed around them. Luckily they both managed to dance out of the way.

  “Come on!” he called to the woman as he pulled her through the rubble of the collapsed floor above them. “There is an emergency exit back this way.”

  They ran as the smoke and fire followed them and the woman kept coughing as she inhaled smoke. He could see the door through the haze ahead of them and he ran straight to it. It pulled opened easily and they ran through it.

  “Go! Go! Go,” she urged him.

  They ran down the stairs with the sound of him behind them and busted into the alley behind the library. No one was in sight, but when they turned to head towards the front of the building where the crowd had gathered they were relieved to see people at the ready to offer assistance.

  “Agnes. Thank God!” George said running to hug her, “I thought we had lost you in there.”

  She coughed and Jason patted her back. “Bring her some water and see to it that the child is okay.”

  A woman in a nurse’s uniform rush forward out of the crowd and took the child from her. “He is okay,” the woman said as she rubbed the baby’s chest and the child sputtered to life, screaming with each breath he took.

  Charlie watched as Agnes reached for the child cooing and hushing him against her chest. She looked angelic doing it and he lost himself in the vision of someday having a wife to do that to his own child. Strange enough, she was much like the woman he saw in his vision as his future wife. He furrowed his brow as she turned to him.

  “Wrong move,” she whispered from behind him. “You could have died in there.”

  Charlie ignored her wiping his soot covered face with his shirt. “You could have died too.”

  “Do you make it a habit of running into burning buildings against your better judgement?”

  “What?” he asked her with a laugh. H
e thought she would have been far more grateful. “What’s your name?”

  “Sure to be out of a job,” she said sighing and looking back at the burning library. Charlie thought for a minute that maybe she was just in shock because that was an unusual first response. Looking at her finger he saw no ring and realized that she had a right to be concerned.

  “I’m Charlie,” he said following her as she walked towards the front of the crowd as men carried water trying to put the blaze out.

  “Hey thanks for saving my life,” she said to him politely.

  He was shocked at her response as it was said in a rather dismissive way as she walked even further away from him. Not that he expected them to be best friends because he had rushed in risking his life against his better judgement to save her life. No, he expected that because he nearly died trying to save her and the little boy that she should show a little more gratitude, but something told him he should not leave her alone.

  “I am Charlie,” he said again holding out his hand.

  She glared at him. “I am sure you are,” she fanned him off with her soot covered fingers.

  “You are the most ungrateful damsel in distress I have ever rescued,” he said with a frown.