ROMANCE: Holiday Romance: Her Christmas Surprise (Sweet Clean Holiday Romance) (Holiday Bride Book 1)

by Mercy Levy

  “No,” Richard yelled. Preparing to fire on Duncan, he didn't see Natalie appear behind him.

  “Drop the rifle,” Natalie yelled at Richard. Soaking wet from the rain, she stood as a woman ready to face her own fights, unafraid of the world. Holding Duncan's gun in her two hands, she aimed at Richard. “Drop your rifle,” she ordered Richard again.

  Richard turned around. He saw Natalie aiming a gun at him. He began laughing. “Are you going to shoot me?” he laughed standing up. Facing Natalie, he lowered the rifle in his hands. “I'm going to teach you to be obedient once and for all.”

  Natalie watched Richard take a step toward her. “Stay back!” she warned.

  “Or what?” Richard asked as he stopped laughing. Narrowing his eyes at Natalie he spoke in a poisonous voice. “All I wanted was your money. But now, I don't want it. Instead, I'm going to give you a choice little lady...” Natalie watched Richard drop the rifle in his hands and pat the inside of his jacket. “I'm going to count to three and draw my gun out. You better shoot me because if you don't I'm going to kill you.”

  Natalie stared at Richard feeling a deep fear overtake her. “Faith,” she whispered. “God, if you bring me back to Duncan, I will trust in you again…I will live for you,” she promised.

  Ignoring the heavy rain, Richard glared at Natalie. “One...two...”

  Natalie watched Richard go for his gun. Closing her eyes, she squeezed the trigger on Duncan's gun. Richard grabbed at his chest as the force of the bullet threw him backward and off the roof of the general store. Looking up, Duncan saw Richard's body fall off the roof and drop down onto the muddy street. And then, he saw a scared shadow ease forward to the edge of the roof. “Natalie!” Duncan yelled.

  Running off the street, Duncan ran around to the back of the general store and scrambled up a wooden ladder. When he reached the roof, he ran to Natalie and took her into his arms. “He was going to kill you,” Natalie told Duncan dropping his gun. For the first time in her life, she wrapped her arms around a man and placed her head against his chest. Closing her eyes, she listened to Duncan's heartbeat.

  Pulling Natalie into his arms, Duncan held her softly and tenderly, breathing in the scent of her sweet perfume through the rain. The woman felt frail in his arms—like a dream waiting to be captured with loving hands. “It's all over now,” he promised Natalie.

  “No,” Natalie whispered back, “it's all just beginning.”

  Thanksgiving

  Natalie appeared beautiful in a dark green evening gown with her long red hair flowing freely over her soft shoulders. Duncan and Andy quickly rose to their feet, both captivated by Natalie's beauty. “Gentlemen,” Natalie smiled entering the dining room at the hotel.

  Clumsy, Duncan pulled out a chair for Natalie. A few hungry weary travelers eating their Thanksgiving meal at the hotel watched Natalie take her seat. Natalie smiled politely at them. “You look...beautiful,” Duncan said, nearly tripping over his own feet as he sat back down.

  Natalie gently reached out and touched the bruises on Duncan's face. “Thank you, honey.”

  Andy leaned back in his chair. “I'm still a bit mad at you. I told you to stay right beside me, but did you listen? No, you had to go wander off on your own.”

  “Good thing she didn't listen to you. This woman saved my life,” Duncan told Andy.

  “I guess,” Andy said and looked around. “I guess I better go see what's taking my bride-to-be so long.”

  Andy excused himself, leaving Natalie and Duncan alone. “Before you say anything,” Natalie spoke to Duncan, “I have something I want to say to you.”

  “You're leaving town, aren't you?” Duncan asked sadly. “You're going back to Boston.”

  “We're going back to Boston. You made me a promise, remember? You told me that you would have a talk with Tim Hayton.”

  Duncan remembered the promise he had made to Natalie. “I reckon I better keep my promise,” he smiled happily.

  Natalie smiled back. “After we put Hayton in his place, I hoped on returning back to Nevada and...getting married.”

  Duncan nearly fainted. “Married...you want to marry me...I'm just a poor rancher. I ain't go much to offer you.”

  “All I want is your heart,” Natalie promised Duncan. “Besides, I have quite a bit of money. I figure together we can turn your ranch into the biggest ranch in Nevada.”

  Duncan frowned. “Ms. McClure...Natalie...I don't want a cent of your money. I make my own way and--”

  Natalie leaned forward and put her lip on Duncan's mouth. “I made a promise to God the other night that if he brought me back to you that I would serve Him. I intend to keep my promise. I took a walk, alone, yesterday, Duncan. This town has children, but no school. Why there isn't even a church here. I have my cut out for me. And I need a strong husband at my side.”

  Duncan didn't know what to say. Unable to take his eyes away from Natalie's beautiful, radiant, face, he sat silently for a few minutes. “I do love you,” he finally spoke, not caring who heard him. “I've loved you from the first day I saw you.”

  “As I have you,” Natalie promised. “Oh Duncan, can't we begin a life together? How I want a family of my own. I want more than money can give me. I want to hear the sound of children playing in a home that you and I will create together. I want to stand in my own kitchen and bake pumpkin pies and take walks in corn patches with you. Oh, I'll still keep my home in Boston. I do love Boston, but not as much as I love being here in Nevada with you.”

  Duncan stared into Natalie's glowing eyes. Leaning forward in his chair, he gently kissed her for the very first time. “I like pumpkin pie,” he smiled.

  “So do I,” Natalie smiled back.

  “Can I make a suggestion?” Duncan asked.

  “Yes,” Natalie answered happily.

  “Wear shoes that are more comfortable,” Duncan teased.

  “Oh you,” Natalie laughed. Fighting back tears of happiness, she watched Duncan take her hands. “I would like to get married in Boston if that's alright with you.”

  “I reckon I can handle that,” Duncan smiled. Drawing in a deep breath, he looked deep into Natalie's eyes. “I promise to love you faithfully and forever. I know I ain't one of them fancy fellas back east, but I am honest and that's all I have to offer.”

  “That's all I need,” Natalie promised as a tear dropped from her eye.

  Before Duncan could say another word, Andy came walking back into the dining room carrying three dinner plates full of turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, cornbread and green beans. “Well,” he said setting the plates down onto the table, “my bride-to-be has decided to go have her Thanksgiving meal at the Thorton's Ranch...should have known...the way Zach Thorton has been looking at her.”

  “Oh, I'm so sorry,” Natalie told Andy.

  “Me, too,” Duncan told his brother.

  Andy shrugged his shoulders. “Don't matter much. Besides, I heard you two over talking. You're taking a trip to Boston, are you? I've never been to Boston before. There might be a suitable bride for me there…that is...if you don't mind me coming along.”

  Duncan laughed and slapped his brother on the shoulder. “I will need a Best Man.”

  “Best Man?” Andy asked and then smiled. “So you two are going to get married?”

  “That's right,” Duncan told Andy. Looking at Natalie, he watched her look around the dining room at the weary travelers. Standing up, she asked everyone if she could have their attention. “Everyone, I’m really not the person to do this, but I made a promise to God and I want to keep that promise. Today is a day of Thanksgiving, to give thanks for all God has blessed us with. May we all bow our head in prayer and say thanks.”

  Everyone in the dining room bowed their head and prayed, giving thanks to God for their meal. Sitting back down, Natalie smiled at Duncan and took a bit of the turkey on her plate. The turkey was delicious. “This is the best Thanksgiving I've ever had,” she told Duncan.

  “We'll have be
tter ones,” Duncan promised taking a bite of turkey.

  Andy watched Natalie and Ducan smile into one another eyes. A match made in Heaven, he thought, brought together through faith and courage. Taking a bite of his own food, he relaxed. Maybe a Heaven had his match in Boston?

  THE END

  Stephen’s Thanksgiving Bride

  1.

  Emmaline looked out of the carriage window as the driver called out to the horses and they whinnied to a stop. The big plantation house was as beautiful as she remembered, set against a backdrop of weeping cherry trees, large green lawns, and the small lake she’d paddled all over in a canoe as a child. The green was a startling contrast to the bare autumn trees she had left behind, and it was strange to think that in a few short days, a Thanksgiving festival would begin.

  It was a far cry from the cold grey and black blur of the funeral, where scores of people she did not know, and more she did not care for, shuffled by in a seemingly endless procession to offer their condolences for the loss of her mother. The only color to break up the sea of black, had been the red rose her father placed on the casket.

  Her father had been scant of conversation before he relinquished her to the custody of the train conductor for the long ride south. Emmaline desperately wanted to be happy about the change of scenery and the chance to finally get out from under the disappointed glare of her neglectful father. But, the loss of her mother, her best and most ardent champion and friend, made her heart ache and kept her awake at night. She couldn’t imagine ever getting to sleep properly ever again.

  Aunt Rebecca ran out from the front door and bolted down the steps, skidding to a stop as she reached Emmaline. She wrapped her arms around the thin girl and squeezed her tight. Emma knew that the autumn social season was important to her aunt, and had loved it when she was a little girl and she and her mother had visited. Now, though, the perpetual springtime of her aunt’s plantation gave little respite to the bleak November weather in New York.

  “So glad you made it safely, my girl.” Rebecca sighed gustily. “The Towers’ plantation had an escape, and none of us have been able to find hide nor hair of them two, so the roads are being shut down in segments for searches, and men keep going to the marsh land. They’re going to bring in a tracker to find them, he’ll be in town in a couple of days. It’s very upsetting so close to the Thanksgiving Festival”

  Emmaline hugged herself. Her mother had never been comfortable with people owning other people, and despite his reassurances that “those were not people”, she’d always refused to let her husband bring slaves home. She also missed Sukie, her maid and best friend, but her father had refused to let her come. Only now did she realize that he had not been trying to add to her punishment of exile, but to protect her friend as well. Sick to her stomach, the young girl pulled her shawl tight around her and followed her aunt up the blossom lined path to the plantation house.

  Rebecca had her sit on the veranda and a dark-skinned woman with gentle eyes brought her a mint julep to sip while she watched the men come in from the fields, headed toward the slave quarters. Emmaline remembered the grey wood buildings, hardly taller than a man, listing and bowed from years of neglect.

  It was a little village of sorrow and pain, and just thinking of it made Emmaline’s stomach turn to sludge. She hoped the couple that had escaped were too far away to ever be caught. She already hated the foul, loathsome excuse of a man who her uncle and his neighbors were bringing in. Aunt Rebecca sat next to her on the wide porch swing and sipped on a tall, cool glass of sweet tea. She pushed off with one foot and got the swing moving gently, as Emmaline’s feet dangled a little above the wooden plans of the veranda.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Emma.” The tiny woman reached over and patted Emmaline’s knee. “I know how much you miss your mother, and how hard it was for you to leave your home amid all the turmoil, but your father wants only the best for you.” Emmaline stared down at her drink and didn’t answer. “We are glad you are here, young lady, and I hope that we can help you through this trying time.” Emmaline’s aunt set her drink down on the small carved table next to the swing and stood to leave her niece alone for a little while, only to be nearly thrown off balance by the giant hug Emmaline gave her from behind, pressed against her hoopskirt and making them both unsteady on their feet.

  “Thank you, Aunt Becca.” Emmaline whispered through her tears. “I miss mama so much, and Father does not speak to me or even look at me. I have been so alone.” Rebecca turned and held the girl as she sobbed herself dry of tears, silently cursing her fool of a brother for the way he’d hurt his child.

  “Your father loved your mother very, very much. He does not know how to deal with the loss. We are not so old that we feel we should be thinking of death yet, Emma.” Rebecca stroked her hair and gently placed a kiss on her temple. “He will get better, and so will you. But, for now, would you like to rest upstairs? Isabella can help you undress and I will bring up some tea and fresh baked bread. Would you like that?” Emmaline nodded and rubbed her nose with her handkerchief. Her aunt thanked her lucky stars that at least her niece had been graced with a ladylike mother to teach her how to be appropriate. If it had been up to her brother, the poor girl would run around barefoot and wild, like the children of her slaves.

  Rebecca knew Emmaline thought they were savages, owning slaves the way that they did. If only she understood how much better life was for the people at their plantation, Shamballa, than it was for hundreds of other slaves all over the colonies. Emmaline didn’t know how the world worked, and Rebecca was concerned that she make her pretty niece the right connections before her Yankee ideals put her on the outside of the best social circles.

  Emmaline had heard her father talking to his steward. She knew she was sent here to be taught how to be marriageable to the right man, one who would only strengthen her family’s standing among those who questioned his choice to marry the blunt and outspoken heiress from the North. Since he couldn’t have the son he wanted, he wanted her to procure for him the connections that would finally erase his ignominious departure to the north from the memories of the social circles he wished to belong to once more.

  “Am I to be schooled here?” Emmaline queried her aunt. “I had to leave college to come down here, and I wished to continue my education, and mother would have wanted me to finish....” Rebecca sighed, a wispy sound of pleasure that startled Emmaline despite the softness of it.

  “Oh love, I have a surprise for you. It may not be the ladies’ college you attended, but I too wanted to ensure your education. I have a young professor of our boys’ school that will be tutoring you himself to prepare you for your examinations.” Rebecca paused before continuing in a careful voice. “You needn’t tell your father of this or report to him of your progress. This is simply my gift to you.”

  Emmaline felt the sting of tears again. Oh, how long would it be before she finally cried her eyes dry once and for all? She sniffled and delicately blew her nose into the plain linen in her hand. Rebecca noted with increasing satisfaction that the young woman was much more ready to be presented to high society than she feared. Offering silent thanks to the sister-in-law who had been a great, though imposing, lady herself, Rebecca herded her niece up to her new apartment to be bathed and dressed by the new house-girl, Isabella.

  2.

  Upstairs, Emmaline watched the lovely girl quietly and efficiently moving about the room, laying out fresh underthings and a housedress for her to lounge in bed in. She absently swatted at the thick layer of bubbles that floated atop the cooling bath water. Isabella turned at the splash and stiffened at the cross look on her new mistress’s face.

  “Miss? Are you all right, now?” She murmured, dropping her eyes and bowing at the hip.

  “I was fine until you started that. Straighten up for God’s sake.” Emmaline cursed, angry with her own bad humor, and her aunt and the entire south for the fact that this girl was afraid of her. “I’m not happy that you are h
ere. Do you want to be here?” She asked the question bluntly. “Oh for the love of all… Look at me. I’m certain you’ve seen more than bubbles and a set of shoulders before.” Isabella met her eyes with a startled face.

  “Miss. I ain’t supposed to look at your naked body, miss…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Well, I certainly don’t believe that it’s anyone’s business what you look at. You don’t belong to me. I am not going to treat you like you do. I can’t help that you belong to someone, but that someone will never be me. Have I spoken plainly enough for you?” Isabella nodded, her eyes wide so that Emmaline saw the fear written plainly in them.

  Frustrated, she stood and climbed awkwardly out of the large copper tub, banging her knee hard as she missed the plaited rug and hit the edge. Isabella rushed to her side with a thick cotton sheet to wrap herself in. She strode over to the clothes that were laid out in a neat stack.

  “Miss, please let me. Miss, please, please.” Isabella begged, sobbing. “Please God don’t make them send me back to Mister Towers.” The woman sank into a trembling pile at Emmaline’s feet, as she shrank back in shock and embarrassment.

  “Oh love. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to, okay?” Isabella nodded and Emmaline clutched her dark, rough skinned hands in her own pale smooth ones. The sensation of the work and strength in those efficient, gentle hands made Emmaline ashamed of her softness, her selfishness. “Isabella, I want us to be friends, like we would’ve been back home. You work for my uncle, and I don’t know how to make things better for you, but I will, I promise.”

  “If we’re friends, then I can tell you anything?” Isabella asked, and Emmaline nodded vigorously. “The women you called ‘friends’ back home, weren’t your friends. They were little more than slaves themselves, and wouldn’t tell you the truth if it might get them beaten for it.” Isabella clenched her jaw and Emmaline stepped back from her.