Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set

by Jillian Hart

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong.” He rose, towering over her and wrapped her into his arms. “You are the best gift, the very best. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you. I promise you that.”

  It was a vow she believed. Enduring love filled her soul. His arms closed around her, holding her close. Prayers do come true, she thought, and sometimes in the way you never imagined.

  Maybe those were the best-answered prayers of all. She snuggled against Elijah’s strong chest, listening to the beat of his heart. She’d traveled to Montana Territory looking for a home, but she’d found more.

  She’d found true love.

  Epilogue

  One year later, Christmas Eve

  “Go lay down in your bed, Paddy,” she told the bright-eyed dog and pointed toward the gray stone hearth. The banked fire radiated enough heat to keep the mutt warm through the night. Paddy turned and ambled toward his bed, nails clicking on the hardwood. He circled three times and eased onto his blanket. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

  Christina spun in place, checking the parlor one more time, making sure everything was in place. The stockings were hung and filled. The tree in front of the window stood guard over the presents piled beneath its boughs. Tomorrow, it would be alive with candlelight watching over their festivities. A turkey would be roasting in the oven, pies would be set out to cool and later she would tap out Christmas carols on the piano in the corner.

  “He went out like a light.” Elijah lowered his voice, his boots padding lightly on the stairs. “He was sound asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.”

  “It was a busy day for him.” She was thankful that Toby was thriving. The boy excelled at school; he’d been a wonderful son and was now a happy boy. She still marveled how the three of them found one another, three strangers brought to Angel Falls on the same train. Love had made them a family. Deeply grateful, she turned toward her husband, toward the man she loved. Her heart filled with bliss when he opened his arms to draw her against his strong chest.

  “It was a big day for all of us.” His lips brushed the top of her head. “Last-minute shopping, caroling, candlelight service.”

  “Yes, today was the second-best Christmas Eve of my life.” She leaned back in his arms, gazing up at his handsome face. At the granite cheekbones, midnight eyes and iron jaw. She could never get enough of him. He was her heart, her soul, her everything.

  “It was my second-best Christmas Eve, too,” he agreed. “Hard to top last year.”

  “When we were married.” Bells had tolled joyfully when the ceremony was through. The moment they had emerged from the church, hand in hand and heart to heart, sunshine had broken through the storm to greet them like a blessing from above. The last year had been like a dream spent as Elijah’s wife and as Toby’s adoptive mother, the best days of her life.

  More were still to come. She placed her hand on the rounded bowl of her stomach. Their baby would be here by June. In the meantime there were wee clothes to sew, booties and blankets to knit, and flawless days to share with the ones she loved. She caught sight of the beautiful doily her friend Annabelle had sent for a Christmas gift. She hoped Annabelle liked the table runner she’d crocheted just for her. Their friendship remained strong, two former mail-order brides who’d found the adventures of their lives traveling to Montana Territory.

  “I hope you don’t have any regrets in choosing me,” Elijah asked.

  “Only one.” She pressed her cheek into his touch. Humor burnished her, made her radiant, made her luminous. “We have only this lifetime to spend together. It doesn’t seem long enough.”

  “Then we’d better make every moment count.” It was a promise he vowed to keep every day of their lives, with all his might, until his last breath. She was his life, his everything. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. She made his life whole.

  Brimming over with love for his treasured wife, he kissed her tenderly. Love was all about timing, he thought, and gave thanks that it was their time for happiness.

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to my second novella with fellow author and good friend Janet Tronstad. We had so much fun writing our previous Mail-Order Christmas Brides, how could we not band together for a sequel? So, band together we did. Once again our heroines meet on the train west and become great friends while riding the rails, wondering about their lives to come as mail-order brides. My heroine, Christina, is robbed at a train stop when she gets out to stretch her legs and who should come to her aid but handsome Marshal Elijah Gable? Elijah is everything she prays that her fiancé will be...a dream, a blessing and a forever home for her heart. It turns out Tom Rutger is nothing of the same, but her hand is already promised to him. How can her story end happily? I hope you enjoy this Christmas tale where love triumphs, everyone finds a home and God’s grace shines so brightly.

  Thank you for reading Home for Christmas.

  Wishing you peace, joy and love this holiday season,

  Jillian Hart

  Questions for Discussion

  What was your first impression of Elijah? How would you describe him? What do you like most about his character?

  How would you describe Christina and Elijah’s first meeting? What did you learn about her character? What did you learn about Elijah? What makes you care for him?

  What do you feel for Toby? What motivates him to run away? What shows you the kind of boy he truly is?

  When Tom and Christina first meet, how do you know Tom isn’t the right man for her? What clues do you see? What others do you see as the story progresses? What sort of man do you think Tom really is?

  What is the story’s predominant imagery? How does it contribute to the meaning of the story? Of the romance?

  Do you see God at work in this story? What meaning do you find there?

  How would you describe Elijah’s faith? How would you describe Christina’s faith?

  What do you think Elijah and Christina have each learned about love?

  Snowflakes for Dry Creek

  Janet Tronstad

  With love to my niece, Sara Enger.

  Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing,

  and obtaineth favor from the Lord.

  —Proverbs 18:22

  Chapter One

  Montana Territory, December 1885

  Gray clouds hung low in the sky as a distant rumble sounded in Gabe Stone’s ears. Tiny bits of hail hit the brim of his Stetson and bounced off to fall on the two children standing beside him on the railroad platform in Miles City, an old military town halfway between Fort Keogh and Dry Creek in the Montana Territory. The day was bitter cold, but that wasn’t what bothered Gabe. He looked at the passenger train rolling steadily down the tracks toward them and frowned. Annabelle Hester, his brother’s mail-order bride, was coming on that train and Gabe would have to say something to her. He just didn’t know what yet.

  “I hope your pa had sense enough to send her a round-trip ticket,” Gabe muttered as he bent to lift the collar on four-year-old Eliza’s coat. Even as he said it, he knew the return ticket wasn’t likely to have been purchased. His brother, Adam Stone, never believed his plans could fail—not even when he was the one causing them to do so.

  Eliza didn’t say anything, but her eyes grew big in a face still round with pink baby sweetness.

  Daniel, her scowling seven-year-old brother, wasn’t as shy as she was and he tugged on Gabe’s jacket.

  “Pa said she’s going to be our new ma,” the boy announced when he had Gabe’s full attention. Daniel’s chin jutted out, fierce determination on his small, thin face. “Annabelle doesn’t need any more tickets. She’s staying with us.”

  “That’s Miss Hester to you,” Gabe said, hoping to change the conversation. He paused to wipe the hail off Daniel’s hair. He didn’t quite know what to tell his niece and nephew any more than he knew what to say to the woman. “Where’s that scarf that I gave you anyway?”


  Daniel hung his head at that and Gabe’s gaze moved over to Eliza. He should have known. Edges of the brown knit scarf were barely visible under the girl’s frayed coat. The boy was clutching a ragged muslin quilt around his shoulders. He’d claimed, when Gabe had asked him earlier, that he was warm enough, but Gabe could see now that there were more holes than padding in that quilt.

  He took off his wool jacket and draped it around the boy. The garment was so big it almost touched the platform, but it would keep out the damp and cold. He didn’t want either of the children to get sick; they had enough trouble in their young lives at the moment.

  Gabe looked back at the train and his frown deepened. When it came to trouble, they all had enough. His brother had ridden off this morning before dawn, leaving behind a note saying he’d made a mistake. Adam claimed he couldn’t face a new bride-to-be when his heart was still full of grief over his late wife’s death. Then he asked Gabe to take care of dealing with the woman on the train for him as though she was nothing more than a bit of unwanted lace that needed returning to some distant place back East.

  They were all silent for a moment and then Gabe heard his nephew catch his breath. It sounded like the boy was struggling to hold back a sob.

  “But she said we were to call her Annabelle.” Daniel’s voice wavered at the start, but then rose stronger as he lifted his teary gaze. His eyes flashed in defiance before he faltered again and whispered, “Until we feel easy with calling her Ma.” He stopped in apparent embarrassment at his emotion and brushed at his eyes. “Pa said, too.”

  Daniel had gathered up the woman’s letters this morning and insisted on bringing them to the station—almost as though the sight of her written words would stop her from turning around and leaving. He had already seen too many promises broken in life and he would take this one hard. Gabe wondered if the boy understood just how much he and his sister needed someone.

  “Miss Hester might not be staying long,” Gabe said as gently as he could, moving his hand down to rest on his nephew’s hunched shoulder. The truth was best spoken aloud even if no one wanted to hear it. “But you have me to take care of you.”

  No smiles or squeals of delight greeted his promise to them. Both children stood looking at the raw planks of the platform. Their backs were to the train depot.

  He didn’t blame them for not being particularly pleased with his words. They were still grieving their mother’s death from pneumonia this past spring and were likely bewildered at the changes in their father. They barely knew Gabe, even though he was their uncle, and it was unlikely their father had said anything nice about him. He had to do what he could for them, though.

  Still, he shook his head. He thought his brother understood what could happen when he told him that some of the women in town were suggesting the two little ones would be better off if they were put up for adoption. Adam always had been stubborn. When he brought his children here several months ago in an open wagon, he refused to stay with Gabe, preferring to keep his grudge against his brother going even if it meant he had to make camp by the creek with his children. He pretended they were on some picnic and not just sitting there with no shelter as the nights got colder, but the townswomen knew better. They had even figured out how many nights Adam had left the children by themselves so he could go off drinking and gambling.

  “It’ll be all right,” Gabe said, putting a hand on Eliza’s soft hair.

  Snow had come early this year and Gabe had finally shamed his brother into moving the children to the old trading post he had inherited from their father. He wished it could have been different. He understood everyone’s grief all too well. When he was nine years old, his mother had sickened and died, too. His father had given up and sent Adam back East to be raised by their grandmother. Gabe, being judged old enough to work, was kept.

  Gabe had begged his father to let his younger brother stay, saying he would work enough for both of them. But their father refused. Even though twenty-five years had passed since then, Adam still blamed Gabe for not stopping their father. Gabe wondered, too, if he had done enough.

  Those bitter memories faded as the boy in front of him stepped closer to his sister.

  “Pa promised that Annabelle was going to stay with us,” Daniel repeated fiercely.

  “For Christmas,” Eliza added, her voice barely audible.

  Today was December 21 and Gabe had heard his brother say those very words every day for the past week. There wouldn’t be any presents, Adam had warned the children, but they would have a new mother to make up for it.

  “Well, he ought not to have said that,” Gabe told them flatly. His brother hadn’t said much to him since he and the children moved into the trading post, but one night, when he had run out of neighbors willing to buy him a drink and had stumbled home earlier than usual, he had talked about his land up north. Adam said he had tried to keep things going there without his wife. But his one cow had died, the fields had proven too dry to plow and the roof on his sod house had collapsed. The marker on his wife’s grave had even blown down.

  “Annabelle sent her picture and everything,” Eliza reminded Gabe as they stood there.

  He nodded. Adam had been sober the day he’d shown him the woman’s photograph and Gabe had hope for the first time that his brother might find the strength to start a new life. A grieving love that made a man unable to do what he had to do was something his brother couldn’t afford. He had been proud when he showed off the image of his new bride.

  Annabelle was a real lady in the picture, wearing one of those fancy feathered hats in a wild rose color with all the little ribbon curls and jeweled flowers women back East liked. The hat was big enough to hide most of her face and she was looking away from the camera. Only a wisp of brown hair was allowed to escape along a fine-boned jawline. She was the kind of woman Adam would make an effort to please, Gabe told himself. His brother would stop drinking for her. Maybe she could even turn them all into a normal family.

  Just then the train braked to a stop in front of the depot.

  There were a dozen or so other men around. Gabe let them hurry forward and call out their greetings as the passengers started getting off the train. Finally he saw Miss Hester step down from the last railroad car.

  “She’s wearing her hat,” Eliza said, her voice rising in excitement as she looked up at Gabe. He nodded. His heart was thumping inside him. The photograph hadn’t prepared him. Why, she was beautiful—and delicate in a way that made him nervous. She might be the kind of woman to give Adam a new life, but Gabe was more comfortable with the sturdy women he knew in the West. They could take disappointment. Even from a distance, Annabelle looked like a tender flower. What if she fainted when he told her his brother was gone? Or cried? Gabe might not know much about children, but he knew less about ladies like her.

  If the children hadn’t dragged him forward, he would have just stood there, hoping his brother would suddenly appear and save them all from what promised to be a disaster. All Gabe could think about was that he hadn’t taken time this morning to put a fresh handkerchief in his pocket. His mother, bless her memory, would have reminded him to get one if she’d been there as he got the children ready to leave the trading post. Adam always had a clean handkerchief. He’d be ready to meet anyone, even someone he was destined to disappoint.

  * * *

  The smoke of the train floated down on Annabelle and she brushed the dark specks off her shoulders before putting her hand up to her hat to be sure it was secure. She’d breathed soot for days and it was a relief to be outside even though the cold made her breath catch. She pulled her heavy knit shawl tight. This morning, she’d changed into her gray silk dress, the only good one she had that wasn’t made of black mourning cloth. By now it was wrinkled, though, and her arm had started to ache from being pressed against the window.

  For reassurance, she turned to look back at the friend she had made on the journey out here. Christina Eberlee looked out the window of t
he train and waved. Annabelle lifted her hand in response. Christina was a mail-order bride, too, and they had both shared their dreams, and worries, as the train sped down the tracks.

  Annabelle turned around then, still feeling the swaying of the train. She wanted Christina to be happy for her and she knew her friend would like to glimpse her promised husband.

  The flakes of snow were falling faster, but Annabelle could see well enough as she looked around. There were quite a few men on the platform and she searched eagerly for a lanky blond rancher who was handsome enough to make her blush just thinking about him. Adam had written a description of himself so she would be able to identify him. He hadn’t said he was handsome, of course, but he had indicated he was well-received so she figured he was finely made. Besides, she’d let Christina read some of his letters and they both agreed that Adam had a flirtatious tone in his letters that men got when women had been telling them they were good-looking since the day they were born.

  Annabelle tried not to squint as she continued looking. Most of the men wore hats of some kind, but she didn’t see anyone who was likely to be her fiancé. Then she saw the children. Adam hadn’t been able to send a picture of them, either, but he had described them to her.

  Just looking at the two sweet darlings filled Annabelle’s heart with hope. She had never expected to have a husband and children. Her father always said she was a drab bird, all brown like a little barn hen, and that men liked women who had strong colors like a strutting peacock. He ignored the fact that it was the male of that species that had the vivid feathers. Instead, he’d gone on to say that the best she had to offer a man was her usefulness. Learn how to cook good plain food, he’d advised, and don’t shirk the heavy work in a household.