Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection ~ 3-Book Bundle (Brides of Virtue 2)

by Jill Maguire

  “No time for talkin’ brother. I’ve got to find Hope.”

  “Wait, wait. Luke Boone, the man who swore he’d never love a woman is head-over-heels for a lady from Whistle Stop?”

  “Not exactly,” Luke told him, shaking his head. Luke told his brother about his time with Hope, caring for her and falling in love with her only to find out that she was promised to some other man. “It’s not too late. If I find her now, we could be married and no one can stop us,” Luke concluded.

  “And people call me the crazy one, brother. Let me help you find her. You know I’m a sucker for a happy ending!” With that the two mounted their horses and raced to the woods.

  Luke bypassed the cabin completely and ran his horse through the forest. He knew exactly where Hope would be and when he arrived at the waterfall, Hope was waiting for him. The moment he saw her, Luke’s heart filled with an intense love and he instantly felt at peace.

  “Hope!” Luke exclaimed as he clumsily dismounted. “Hope!” Hope turned to him then, her eyes glowing with all the warm love of her heart. She bounded off the rock and ran right into Luke’s outstretched arms.

  “I knew you would come for me here!” Hope said amid her tears. Luke smiled down at the beautiful woman, safely nestled in his arms.

  “Come on you two, you’ve got to make this official, and quick before Jackson gets here and messes everything up! I’ll be your witness,” Cole offered, breaking through the silence of their sweet reunion.

  “What do you say Hope? Will you marry me here, by the waterfall?”

  “I’d marry you anywhere Luke Boone,” Hope grinned as they climbed atop a smooth rock at the bottom of the waterfall. There, in the sight of Cole and of God, Hope and Luke exchanged vows of deep love and sincere promise. Then Luke took his bride into his arms and for the first time, their lips met in a deep, gentle kiss that was filled with all the passion of suspended love.

  The End

  See What We’re Writing Now…..

  Or

  Continue Reading Mercy’s Story

  Harboring Hope

  Copyright 2016 © Jill Maguire

  Prairie Wind Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted by any means - electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise without written permission from the author/publisher.

  Marrying Mercy

  Copyright 2016 © Jill Maguire

  Prairie Wind Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted by any means - electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise without written permission from the author/publisher.

  Chapter 1

  “Come on, Mercy! Show us your fancy feet!” her partner yelled over the din of the music, clapping and stamping feet filling the small dance hall. Mercy’s face glowed bright pink with exertion and excitement. She laughed out loud and a beautiful smile graced her perfect peaches and cream complexion.

  Mercy lifted her skirt just high enough to show off her fast feet as she danced round and round with her dear friend, Adam DeLane. Her long golden blond hair flew freely about her shoulders and her eyes shone like she hadn’t a care in the world. She was the rose of the dance hall that evening, and most evenings that she joined in the cotillions with Adam.

  Mercy was in fact the most beautiful girl in the village and turned the heads of everyone she passed by. But no one begrudged Mercy her beauty because her life of hardship had honed within her a loveable and gentle nature.

  And everyone knew how much Mercy loved to dance. She never felt freer or more graceful than when her feet hit the wooden floor. Ever since she was a small child, the beat and rhythms of music never failed to catch her heart. Just the sound of a piano or a fiddle playing caused her to move, sometimes involuntarily, along with its cadence.

  Adam was always a lively and eager partner. He stole Mercy away to dance every chance he got, and though it was common knowledge throughout the village that Adam was after Mercy’s heart, Mercy herself was yet ignorant of the fact. They had been dear friends since childhood and Mercy had no more feeling for Adam than if he were her brother.

  As the night wore on, Mercy and Adam maintained the center of attention of the dance circle. Everyone thought Mercy looked especially beautiful that evening and Adam in particular, couldn’t take his eyes off her. Finally, they eased away to rest for a while on the chairs that lined the walls of the hall. Mercy flopped into her chair with a contented sigh as she watched the dancers continue their flight around the floor.

  “Mercy,” Adam tried for her attention.

  “Hmm?” Mercy responded absently with a faint smile on her face as she watched the dancers.

  “Mercy, I’d like to talk to you about something.” This time, Adam touched Mercy’s arm, finally gaining her full attention.

  “What is it?” Mercy looked at Adam with her openly friendly expression which gave Adam more courage and yet more anxiety.

  “Mercy, you must know that I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve kept silent for too long and now I have to speak. Please say you’ll take me, Mercy. Please say you’ll be my wife.” Adam looked at the fair girl before him pleadingly.

  Unsuspecting, Mercy was quite taken aback by this confession and stared at him blankly for a few moments.

  Before Mercy could fumble through any reply, a man burst into the hall and rose such a raucous that the fiddlers stopped playing altogether. Everyone stopped dancing and stared at the man standing in the open doorway. He was immediately recognized as Mercy’s father, Magnum Lawson and many eyes travelled from the disheveled and distraught man to the young woman who sat frozen in her chair, suddenly turning very pale.

  “Where is my daughter?!” Magnum raged. Mercy stood up numbly. She did not want to cause more of a scene than what was already unfolding and she did not dare look back at Adam and raise any suspicion from her father.

  “I’m here, father,” Mercy said meekly as they exited the hall, now hushed by Magnum’s presence.

  “What did I tell you about gallivanting around with that boy?!” Magnum raged as they walked together to the cart and horse awaiting them. “I told you I never wanted you going out again. What if something were to happen? Mercy!” Her father spit out her name with disgust and fury as silent and obstinate tears traced down Mercy’s cheeks.

  “I’m sorry Papa,” Mercy said pleadingly.

  They rode home in silence, her father tense next to her, driving the horse in an erratic and agitated way. When they reached home, Magnum jumped from the cart, stormed around to Mercy’s side and roughly jerked her down to her feet.

  “Papa, I said I’m sorry,” Mercy protested. “Adam and I were just having a little fun, no harm has been done.”

  “I’m tired of finding you in these situations, then hearing you’re sorry only to find you at it again a few days later. I’m going to solve this once and for all! If I ever see you near a man again, I will have to take more drastic measures than this!” Magnum dragged Mercy into the house by the arm and shoved her into her bedroom. “You’re to stay in your room now! No harm will come to you there! You stay in there until I know what to do with you!” With that he shut the door and locked Mercy in from the outside.

  “Papa! Papa! Please be reasonable! You’re overreacting,” she shouted through the solid wood door. “I’m not Mama, I’m not going to run off! I’ve told you a hundred times before. Please Papa!” Mercy pounded the door with her fists, but heard no sound from the other side. Mercy fell onto her bed and wept bitter, hateful tears.

  When she had cried all the tears she could, Mercy’s mind wandered back to Adam’s words to her before her father had barged in the hall. He had confessed his love for her and taken Mercy by complete surprise. This was a new idea entirely to Mercy as she had never thought about Adam in that light.

  Mercy
lit the small candle sitting on the table next to her bed and lay back down, feeling tired, though sleep seemed out of reach. Mercy mulled over Adam’s words and searched her own heart for her feelings about him. All thoughts of her father and what he would think were dispelled by her intense anger over his reaction tonight, treating her like a young teenage girl with no rights or abilities to make her own decisions.

  Mercy thought of Adam and of their long-standing friendship. She had known him her whole life and there was no one else in the world that she would rather spend her time with. Suddenly, she knew all at once that she did in fact, love him. Adam was always so thoughtful and kind, and although she had only ever recognized it as friendship, now Mercy saw all his acts and words through the new lenses of his love for her. She would be a lucky girl to have Adam. Many other girls in the village would have given anything to gain Adam’s attention.

  But her new found love for Adam was not enough to force Mercy to do anything rash. She would not be like her mother. She would make a rational choice and stick with it.

  Mercy’s mother had run away with another man, leaving her father in absolute despair out of which he lived life in fear of everything and everyone. He could hardly be blamed for his actions but it had changed him for the worse. He was not the loving, peaceful man he had been.

  Mercy had lived so long under her father’s controlling fear and anger that she desperately wanted to break free. She was quite old enough to do as she wished and make her own decisions, and her father’s overbearing ways frustrated Mercy beyond measure. Still, she was not about to jump into any agreement with Adam yet.

  Finally, in the small hours of the morning before dawn, Mercy blew out the flickering candle and drifted off to sleep. Her sleep was not to last, however. Not long after she had nodded off, Mercy awoke to the sound of crackling and an acrid smell which filled her lungs.

  Chapter 2

  Mercy opened her eyes and sprang out of bed as flames licked wildly around her room. Her hasty movements of panic brought her skirts too close to the flames and they made their way up the cloth before she could realize what was happening. Mercy frantically pounded on the door then turned looking for another way out. But the fire had reached Mercy’s skin beneath her dress and she cried out in agony as she opened the window above her bed. She tumbled out and clumsily rolled down the grassy hill below. As her dress met the soft grass, the flames were slowly extinguished but the pain of her now charred skin was excruciating.

  Mercy slowly rose and looked back at the burning house, her dress melted onto the skin of her legs. Mercy shuddered and sobbed, though she was hardly aware of it in her shocked state. All she could think was that she was free, and this was her chance to get as far away from her father as she could.

  Mercy ran limping down the country road toward town, making her way to the room above the doctor’s house where she knew he slept each night. Mercy pounded on the door until the doctor opened it, wiping the sleep from his eyes. A look of horror immediately possessed his features the moment he saw Mercy.

  “Mercy?” The doctor said incredulously. All Mercy could do was sob. The pain was starting to intensify and the vision of her burning house haunted her mind. “Please, come in child, come in,” the kind doctor ushered Mercy through the door to the examination room.

  “What happened?” he asked as he began to assess Mercy’s burns.

  “I don’t know. The house caught fire and has burnt down. I - I barely got out with my life.” Mercy sobbed haltingly, straining against her pain and raw emotions.

  “Mercy, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut your dress off to tend the burns underneath.” Mercy winced at the suggestion but the doctor worked with extreme care. Mercy cried out in pain. “Did your father get out?” the doctor asked as he worked. He quickly began applying cool, soothing ointments and reassured Mercy that she was going to be alright.

  “No,” Mercy said faintly. “And please, please don’t tell him I’m here. Don’t tell anyone.” She felt on the verge of passing out and her thoughts were jumbled and incoherent.

  “Lay down here child, on your side so you don’t agitate the burns. Here we are.” The doctor lowered Mercy onto the bed just as Mercy fainted away from the pain and the events of the night. The doctor watched Mercy for a moment then continued applying cool damp cloths to the worst of the burns. He knew she was lucky to be alive, and he knew what her father was capable of doing if he found her here. The secret of her whereabouts would be safe with him.

  Mercy slept through the next day and night and the kind doctor changed her dressings as often as he could between seeing his other patients. When Mercy finally awoke, the doctor almost wished she hadn’t. The pain was so severe that Mercy could do nothing but lay motionless and sob painful tears. Finding it difficult to see Mercy in such pain, the doctor administered some numbing agents which helped her sleep.

  After a few days the pain subsided enough that Mercy could consider her circumstances and decide what to do next. She knew she could not go back home to her father, if he was even still alive. No, what she needed now was protection and a good situation. But what man would want to ever marry her now? Certainly she could not go to Adam. He could never love her now that her beauty had been stolen and scarred by the fire.

  Mercy stood in front of the mirror in the small bathroom attached to what had become her room in the doctor’s house. The burns were healing well, but leaving thick scars across her face and along the right side of her body. Mercy wept many tears over her ghastly appearance. She had been so beautiful. Mercy would not have openly admitted to the fact before the fire, but now she allowed herself to say that she had once been very beautiful.

  But that was no longer. Now the savage scars marred her face and there was no way Adam, or any man, would want her for a wife. It was hopeless.

  One day, in her restless idleness, Mercy found a newspaper that the doctor had been reading. It almost seemed like divine intervention, for it was opened to a page of advertisements for mail-order brides. Mercy sat wide-eyed, reading the words and descriptions of men in the West seeking brides. Perhaps this was her only option. If she could not marry for love, maybe she could marry for means. Maybe, just maybe she would be looked upon as a valuable asset and offer to keep house for a respectable man.

  Having found an ad from a man, seeking exactly what she was willing to offer, Mercy immediately took up pen and paper and wrote to him. Her hand was stiff from the still unfamiliar scars etched across it, but she scrawled out what she could, describing to him her exact situation. She didn’t want to cause him shock by showing up as she was without any forewarning.

  “So you decided your next step, I see,” the doctor commented as they shared a simple lunch. He had seen the letter waiting on the table where the newspaper had been.

  “Yes, could you post that letter for me?”

  “I will. I hope the situation turns out ideally for you.”

  “Thank you,” Mercy said simply,. “I don’t know how to express my gratitude to you for all you have done for me these past weeks.” Mercy gave the doctor a faint smile and he reflected on how beautiful she still was, even with her scars. One brilliant blue eye was perpetually bloodshot due to damage done from the flames, and her thick hair was slowly growing back where it had been singed. Beyond that, the spirit of the girl that the doctor had only seen through their distant acquaintance was still glowing from within.

  “You will be okay yet,” the doctor predicted mildly. “Your life will hold great happiness and beauty for you, of that I’m sure.” Tears welled up in Mercy’s eyes at these kind words, though she felt in her heart that they could not possibly come true.

  A week later, Mercy received an answer to her letter. The man agreed to buy her ticket to Whistle Stop, Wyoming where he would marry her and take her home to tend his house.

  Chapter 3

  A week later Mercy found herself in the dusty train station of Whistle Stop, Wyoming. She had received a ticket fro
m her intended and boarded the very last car of the train. That morning was the first that Mercy had ventured out of the doctor’s office and she covered the burned part of her face with a shawl. She would not raise her head to make eye contact with anyone and spent the entirety of the train ride second-guessing her decision. She was hideous and couldn’t bear the thought of being seen, even by a stranger. But what else could she do? She had no other options. The ride was long and torturous for Mercy.

  When they finally arrived in Whistle Stop, Mercy snuck out of the back of the train and found a tree nearby to stand with some cover. Her heart pounded wildly as her eyes darted over the people milling around the station. Then Mercy spotted a man. Was he the man who had agreed to marry her? He looked work-worn but kind as he tipped his hat to a woman passing by. Mercy suddenly felt her pulse quicken and the thought of marrying a man she didn’t know caused her to panic and steal away from the station before he could spot her. Mercy ducked at the side of the building with no idea what to do next, but she knew she needed time to think.

  “Excuse me ma’am.” A voice behind Mercy made her freeze in her steps.

  “Yes?” She responded without turning.

  “I saw you leave the station and now you look to be hiding from someone. Is everything alright?” The man’s voice was drawl but with a curious lilt. Suddenly there was a soft touch on Mercy’s shoulder which slowly turned her on the spot. Mercy stared at the ground, unwilling to look up and meet his eye and she trembled violently in fear. Mercy was determined not to answer any of his questions.

  “It’s just that if you seek refuge, I would be happy to offer the loft above my barn. It’s not much, but it’s warm and safe, and you may even find some victuals waiting for you.” The man went on, sensing Mercy’s fear, quickly telling her where she could find his barn. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he sauntered off. Mercy looked up to watch him go and saw that the man was tall and rough-looking, tanned from too much time in the sun, with very light blond hair sticking out from under his hat. Mercy caught her breath and her heart slowed its pounding.