Mail Order Menace
Kirsten Osbourne
Brides of Beckham
Copyright 2016 Kirsten Osbourne
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Tired of being remembered only for her misdeeds as part of the demon horde, Ernestine Miller agrees to go out West to marry a banker in need of a wife. When she arrives in Montana, she discovers her groom has met with a fatal accident, and she has two choices. She can either find a way to support herself or go back home in shame. So she uses her former fiancé’s home to start a boarding house, happy to have a use for her superior cooking skills.
When Clifford Solomon moves to Prairie Dog, Montana, he’s thrilled to find a boarding house where he and his business partner can stay. It doesn’t take him long to fall for the beautiful woman running the home. Finding himself married in the blink of an eye, he does everything he can to get Ernie to fall for him. Will the town gossips be able to keep them apart with their lies? Or will Cliff and Ernie be able to face them down to find love with each other?
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Chapter One
Ernestine Miller hugged her sister goodbye as the train whistle blew. Elizabeth had helped her to find a husband through her mail order bride service, and now she was off to Montana to marry him. She waved one last time as she stepped onto the train, her heart beating a mile a minute. She was heading west—away from all the people who believed she was a menace to society. Away from everyone who knew her as just one of the children who made up the demon horde. Never again would she have to hear those words applied to herself.
She moved to an empty seat halfway down the coach and pulled a letter from her reticule. It was from Robert Simpson, who preferred to be called Bert. It was the letter he’d sent inviting her to come and be his bride in Prairie Dog, Montana. He was a banker, and he owned the biggest house in town. She liked the idea of being the wife of a banker, but not for the reasons one would expect.
Ernie didn’t particularly care about the money involved in being a banker’s wife, or even the prestige. No, what she was looking for was respectability. She had spent her entire life with people looking down their noses at her. That was about to end. She would be a wife—and hopefully a mother—soon, and she would be someone people could look up to. Yessirree, Ernie Miller would no longer be the girl people warned each other about.
She sat straight in her seat, her embroidery on her lap. Starting now, she would be the very model of decorum.
*****
Ten days later, Ernie got off the train, more than a little worse for the wear. She’d held a baby for part of the journey, and she could see some spots on her dress where the child had drooled through most of Minnesota. She’d tried to clean it off, but without proper bathing facilities on the train, it was hard.
She stood straight and proud on the platform, her eyes scanning the crowd. The only person to approach her, however, was an older gentleman she knew couldn’t be her Bert.
“Are you Miss Ernestine Miller?” the man asked, sorrow filling his eyes.
Ernie nodded, trying to keep her expression even. Surely this man wasn’t Bert. She said a quick prayer that Bert had been detained and she wouldn’t be expected to marry this man. He wasn’t bad to look at, but he was at least sixty, and Ernie was only twenty-two. She had no desire to marry a man who was old enough to be her grandfather. “I’m Miss Miller.”
The man removed his cowboy hat and held it with one hand to his chest. “I’m Mr. Simpson’s attorney. I’m sorry to inform you that he was killed in an accident last week.”
Ernie gasped. “What kind of accident?”
“He was out riding and thrown from his horse. He landed wrong.” The man shook his head, his eyes filled with sympathy. “He lived long enough to tell me about you and to make certain that I knew his house would be yours.”
Her mind raced. What would she do with a house in the middle of Montana? “I see.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for letting me know, Mister…”
“Jackson. Benjamin Jackson.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jackson. I’m not at all certain I’ll be able to stay in your lovely town. What would I do here?” Her mind raced to think of something she could do. Anything would work for her. She couldn’t go back to a place where everyone was waiting for her to pull the next prank. She just couldn’t.
“At least let me show you the house. There isn’t a great deal of money, but there’s enough for you to live for a month or two should you decide to stay. The train won’t be back through until this time tomorrow, regardless.”
Ernie bit her lip, thinking on the situation, before nodding and taking his proffered arm. “I’d like to see the house.”
Mr. Jackson stopped in front of the biggest house Ernie had ever seen. It was even bigger than her sister Elizabeth's house. She stopped and stared in awe. "Are you sure this is the right place?" It was much too fine for her to live there.
"Of course I'm sure. Bert spent a great deal of time making sure the house was exactly what he wanted. All of the furniture was imported. He was very proud of this house and the fact that he would be able to provide his future bride with a beautiful place to live." He shook his head. "I'm just sorry he wasn't here to see you in it."
"He said it was the biggest house in Prairie Dog. I just had no idea it would be this big." Ernestine braced herself. Surely there was something she could do with a house that size. She was a good cook, so maybe she could start a boarding house. It was a thought. She'd have to see how the layout was first.
"I think you'll find it to your liking. Would you like me to accompany you inside?"
Ernie shook her head. "I don't think so. I can show myself around." Now that she was getting used to the idea, she wanted to explore the house on her own. She couldn't wait to see the inside. She could never be happy that Bert had died, but maybe her new circumstances would lead to a better life.
Mr. Jackson handed her the key. "If you need anything at all, my office is just down the street."
Ernie nodded. The town was small enough she knew she wouldn't have a hard time finding anything. "Thank you very much." With the key firmly in her hand, she walked to the front door. As she pushed open the door, she braced herself for the worst. Bert had been a man living alone, so she had no idea how messy the house would be. She knew how bad her brothers were about throwing their belongings everywhere.
There was a small entryway just inside the door, and to her right was a parlor. The parlor was decorated in blues and greens, and was a place she could see herself being comfortable. She slowly made her way through the house, and everything fell into place in her mind. There were six bedrooms. There were even two indoor bathrooms. She was shocked to see such a convenience so far out in the West. She’d expected to find a very basic home, but instead, it was more comfortable than her home back in Beckham.
When she was finished exploring, she found a pen and paper from Bert’s desk and sat down, quickly writing herself a list of what she would need to do to turn his house into a boarding house. Never mind that she had no experience running a business. She needed to stay, and to do that, she needed to use the resources at her d
isposal to make a living.
*****
A week later, Ernestine had a sign in her front window announcing, “Rooms for Rent.” She was a bit apprehensive about opening her home up to strangers, but maybe it would turn into a place for well-bred ladies. Of course, if there were a lot of well-bred ladies in Prairie Dog, it was unlikely that Bert would have sent off for a mail order bride. No matter. She’d had a lock installed on her bedroom door, and she wasn’t afraid to use it!
She went into the kitchen to start a big pot of stew for supper, something she could add more to as the day progressed if she had anyone looking for a room. She had just gotten everything chopped and into the pot when she heard a knock on the door.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she ran to the front door, opening it to see two men, both of them covered with grime. “May I help you?”
The taller of the two men nodded, removing his cowboy hat. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Clifford Solomon, and this is my friend, Jake Diggory. We just rode into town, and we saw your sign in the window. Any vacancies?”
Ernie felt her heart beating faster. Her first guests. Boarding houses have guests and not customers, right? Never mind that. Focus, Ernie! Focus! “I have a couple of rooms you could have. I’m Ernestine Miller.” She opened the door to let them in, frowning at the dirt covering them. “I have two bathrooms downstairs, and I’d appreciate it if you men would make use of it before traipsing through my clean house.”
Clifford laughed. “You would, would you? I guess we can wash some of the grime off before we see our rooms.”
“I would appreciate that.” Ernie mentioned the cost for a room, and both men nodded. “Do you think you’ll stay long?”
Clifford shrugged, making Ernie wonder if the other man ever spoke. “We’re hoping to start a saddle-making shop here in town. How long we stay depends on whether or not folks are interested in our services.”
Ernie had never given a thought to where saddles came from, so she was a bit curious, but decided not to pester the men. “All right. I’ll accept that for now. Come in and get your baths. You have your choice of rooms upstairs.” She turned to head back to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Supper’s at six. If you want lunch that’ll cost you extra, and you need to let me know now.”
Clifford looked at his friend, shaking his head. “She’s a spitfire. I guess I was expecting a motherly type.”
Jake sighed. “She’s just like my mama. Always yelling at me to keep her house clean.”
Cliff laughed. “You get your bath. I’m going to go tell her we want lunch and a lot of it. It’ll be nice not to eat your campfire cooking for a change.”
“Mine’s better than yours. At least I don’t leave the shells in the eggs when I make them.”
“I did that once!” Cliff wandered off toward the kitchen, wondering what the prickly little woman would serve them for lunch. “Excuse me, ma’am?” She was standing at the stove, stirring whatever was in a huge pot. “We would both like some lunch—if you don’t mind, that is.”
Ernie turned from the stove, nodding at him. “That’s fine. I’ll see that something is ready to eat at lunch time. I serve lunch at noon and supper at six. Make sure you’re here if you plan to eat.”
“Meaning you won’t feed me if I’m late?”
She nodded, glad she’d had a lifetime of showing spunk to her credit. A lot of women wouldn’t have been able to deal with two strangers in her home, but she would take it all in stride. If they got on her nerves, she’d put a snake in their beds. It was as simple as that. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
He laughed, wandering out of the kitchen and looking for the second bath. She’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome in the house until he took care of his cleanliness issues, but pointing him in the direction of a bath would have helped a lot. Turning his head to the side, he sniffed once, and made a face. She was right. He was more than a little ripe, and no one should have to put up with his stench. He kept opening doors until he found a bathroom, accidentally opening the door to her bedroom in the process. It looked…well, it didn’t look as feminine as he’d expected. He quickly closed the door and moved on until he found the bathroom.
Ernie put her hand over her heart as the man left her kitchen. He was dirty and smelly and…well, he was sort of attractive if you liked the rugged type. She wasn’t sure what type she liked, because she’d never really had a chance with any man back in Beckham. They all heard she was one of the demon horde and moved on.
What could she make for two big men who seemed hungry? She peered into her ice box and pulled out the leftover roast from the night before. Roast beef sandwiches with plenty of gravy and mashed potatoes. That would fill them up, and she could easily have it ready before noon.
She hummed to herself as she hurried around the kitchen, gathering potatoes and carrots to peel. She’d slice the bread and make up a good thick gravy for them. Yes, lunch would be served, and it would be delicious.
After his bath, Clifford wandered into the kitchen, a towel around his neck. “Something smells delicious.”
Ernie jumped, spinning to face him. “I’ve been living alone, so you have got to give me warning when you come into a room. You’re going to scare the living daylights out of me!”
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Ernie shook her head. “Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you go get your friend and come back down? Do you enjoy coffee?”
“Yes. We both like coffee.” And they had run out three days before as they’d ridden across the prairie. It was a beautiful area, but the ride had been long.
“Then I’ll make a pot.” She waved her hand at him. “Go on then. Get him.”
Cliff laughed softly. “Are you always this bossy, ma’am?”
Ernie blushed, even as she shrugged. “I have a lot of younger siblings. If I wasn’t bossy, they’d have run all over me.”
“Well, I’m not one of your younger siblings, and I’m not used to any woman but my ma bossing me around the way you have been.” He winked at her. “And you’re a whole lot prettier than my ma!”
Ernie turned her back on him as she felt her face heating up even more. “If you want to eat, you’d better get your friend and bring him back here. I might have to throw your lunch away if you’re late.”
“You wouldn’t!” He shook his head. Feisty didn’t begin to describe this girl. He thought of all the sweet ladies he’d known in his life as he wandered off. Why had none of them ever been quite as appealing as this one was?
Ernie set a pot of coffee on the stove before setting the table and putting the food out. When she was done, she glanced at the clock on the wall. They had two minutes to get there. Having been raised in chaos, her home would be orderly and things would be done on time. She didn’t care if the men liked it or not. She happened to know she was the only boarding house in town, so they didn’t really have anywhere to go unless they wanted to sleep on the cold, hard ground.
Either way would suit her just fine.
Chapter Two
When the two men arrived for lunch just a few minutes later, Ernie had composed herself. She poured them each a cup of coffee and took her own seat at the table. The food was already waiting for them. “I hope you like roast beef sandwiches and mashed potatoes.” She pushed a bowl of carrots at them.
Both men served themselves. “Yes, ma’am. Sounds wonderful,” Cliff said as he filled his plate. “Sorry to be so greedy, ma’am. We’ve had nothing but Jake’s cooking since we left Billings, and we’re both mighty hungry for a decent meal.”
Jake glared at his friend. “You saying my cooking isn’t decent food?”
Ernie bit her lip, stifling a laugh. “Obviously, you’re a better cook than he is, or he’d have cooked himself. Don’t you think?”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked back down at his plate, forking up a bite of mashed potatoes and gravy.
She watched them both eat as if
they were half-starved, glad she’d peeled an entire mountain of mashed potatoes. She might have to charge more for lunch than she’d planned if they always ate this much. “Where are you from?”
Cliff answered for both of them. “I’m from a small town in South Dakota, and Jake’s from Wisconsin. We met in Billings, and it didn’t take us long to realize we both have an interest in saddle making. So we decided to team up and open a saddle shop. This town isn’t very big, but we can always do catalog sales. I don’t think it’ll be long before cowboys are willing to ride a hundred miles to get a Solomon-Diggory saddle for their horses.”
“Are your saddles that much better?” she asked. Being raised on a farm back east, she’d only ridden bareback. She had no experience with saddles at all.
“We think so,” Cliff responded. “We like to custom make each saddle for the man who will ride in it. Ours are more comfortable, and they last longer. Yes, ours are better.” He didn’t like to brag, but their saddles were better than anything he’d ever seen. Facts were facts.
“Wow. They do sound superior. Judging by the number of unattached men in church last Sunday, I would say there will be plenty of business here.”
Cliff raised an eyebrow. “Unattached men? Does that mean you’re in the market for a man in your life?” She was awfully pretty, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing living alone. Was she a widow?
Ernie blushed. “My fiancé was killed a couple of weeks ago. I don’t think it’s been long enough for me to even think about another man yet.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” The words were automatic. “So are you new in town?”
She nodded. “I came here to marry Bert, but he was dead upon my arrival. He was thrown from his horse. Maybe one of your saddles would have saved his life.”
“Was he a good horseman?” Cliff asked.
“I don’t rightly know. Probably. I have a feeling he was good at everything.” It wasn’t any of his business to know anything about Bert. Why she felt protective of a man she’d never met and had only exchanged a couple of letters with, she wasn’t sure, but she did.
Mail Order Menace (Brides of Beckham Book 21) Page 1