The Mail Order Brides of Last Chance: Christmas Brides and Babies (A 6-Book Western Romance Box Set)
Lucille Chisum
Bob McCullough
Contents
1. The Store Owner’s Bride
2. The Christmas Baby
3. The Qullt
4. The Perfect Ornament
5. Holiday Rescue
6. Lightning Strikes the Stranded Bride
Also By Lucille Chisum
1
The Store Owner’s Bride
Edward Turner was nervous. The one thing he disliked more than anything in the world was withholding information, but doing that seemed essential to his romantic fate at the moment.
He tried to busy himself by stocking shelves, but there wasn’t much work to do. Edward’s shop was tiny but orderly. It wasn’t yet a full-fledged general store, but Edward was convinced it had the capacity to be just that, despite its limitations.
This conviction wasn’t just based on idle speculation, either. Last Chance had a general store of sorts when he arrived, but that part of town was in a state of flux.
The owner had been older, and he had no one to pass the store on to—to Edward, this seemed the opportunity of a lifetime.
It wasn’t an easy thing, though. Edward had passed on the chance to buy the old store; the building simply needed too much work. No, he would rather build his own store from scratch, using the picture he had in his mind.
Based largely on that, he’d constructed a smaller building. Some of the other shop owners helped him, for they knew what it was like to be in Edward’s situation. And Edward knew that if he did things his own way the lack of space could actually become an advantage.
But only if he kept the shelves straight. Normally this was an easy task, but right now it seemed problematic. Edward did the work, then found fault with it, despite the fact that he’d done this task dozens of times before.
So he kept at it, arranging and rearranging. Finally he realized he was being a perfectionist, which was a part of his nature. And just as this awareness came to him, Edward was saved by the bell, quite literally.
The bell was attached to the front door, and Edward smiled when he heard it tinkling. A customer! Just what he needed to distract him; Edward turned eagerly to greet whoever it was.
But this wasn’t just any customer. Edward couldn’t help but recognize the sound of the shoes on the wooden floor he’d built himself—he would have known that sound anywhere.
“Edward? Are you here?”
The voice was just as recognizable. It was light, delicate and feminine; almost musical in nature, at least to Edward’s ears.
“Of course I’m here, dear,” he said. “I’m just working on these shelves.”
“Again?”
He could hear the exasperation in Clara Bellweather’s voice, and Edward just smiled. He knew his intended became slightly annoyed when he indulged in repetitive activities, so he stopped himself. Besides, there really wasn’t any need to rearrange the shelf again.
“I’m sorry, dear,” he said, shaking his head and shrugging. “You know how I get caught up in things.”
“I do!” Clara said, and she gave him a smile. He saw her mood lighten a little, and Edward realized he’d been right to stop. “How is everything else progressing with the store?”
Edward shrugged again, knowing this was a bit of a loaded question. He nearly sighed, but he knew Clara would have noticed that immediately, and that wouldn’t have been in his best interests at all.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “It’s a bit of a slow build. I get more customers every day. Not a lot, but enough to keep me busy.”
Clara shook her head, and Edward held off from saying more. Her question really hadn’t been about customers at all; they both knew the general store was bound to be a success now that he’d gotten it off the ground.
No, this question had larger implications, simple though it was.
Edward had met Clara shortly after her arrival in Last Chance as a mail order bride, near the end of a glorious Colorado summer. He’d come to Colorado after a failed stint in California, where the Gold Rush hadn’t quite lived up to its lucrative reputation.
Initially Edward wasn’t the man who was intended for Clara. He’d never gotten a clear explanation of who she was supposed to be with, but it didn’t matter. It was apparent from day one that they were meant for each other, so Edward had begun courting Clara.
It wasn’t a long process. Their conversations were lighthearted and witty, and both Edward and Clara completely lost track of time when they were together.
The slow growth of love was so obvious that Edward had proposed to her several weeks later, and at the time it had seemed like all his problems in life were solved. He and Clara were deeply in love—surely everything after that would be sheer bliss, wouldn’t it?
Sadly, though, that wasn’t the case at all. Clara had pressed him for a fall wedding, which was fine with Edward. Setting a date sent his spirits soaring, and his happiness had increased exponentially, which hardly seemed possible.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t real. Several days after they agreed to a fall wedding Edward received a letter from his mother that lent a distinct chill to their plans to be married.
Edward’s mother lived in Texas, which was where he’d grown up. Edward’s correspondence with her had been intermittent, until she found out he’d journeyed to California to make his fortune.
After that her letters had become more regular. This didn’t surprise Edward; he knew Denise had a keen ability to spot men who were working hard to make money, and he began to struggle with these letters.
Did she really start writing just because he was in California? Had she really expected him to get rich? And what about Colorado? How did her correspondence following him to the Rockies fit into all this?
Slowly, though, his suspicions had worn off. Her letters convinced Edward that she really was just concerned about him, and finally, Edward had told her about Clara.
That had set off a new round of letters, though. His mother wanted to know everything about his intended, and there were still many things Edward didn’t know himself, for they were still new to each other.
He’d told her they were about to set a date, and that sparked a new letter—one that blew apart their plans completely.
I want to see you get married in Colorado, it read. I want you to have a Christmas wedding.
Those were the only words Edward remembered with total precision, and his feelings about them were decidedly mixed.
On the one hand, a part of him thought his mother had no business interjecting herself into this matter. What gave her the right to even make such a request?
But Edward also had a more sentimental side. He knew his mother loved Christmas. He knew Denise had never seen snow. It was a powerful combination, and emotionally Edward was hard pressed to fight it.
As for Clara, he hid all of this from her initially. Edward had little experience in how to handle women, and now he found himself betwixt and between two of them.
And that had changed his relationship with Clara. Not noticeable at first, but the change was slow and inexorable.
Everything was so open before, he thought nostalgically as he gaze at the shelves. I thought we would be married and live happily ever after.
Now, though, that clearly wasn’t the case. Clara arched her eyebrows, then pursed her lips.
“I’m glad things are going well, then,” she said, and Edward could hear the strain in her voice as she struggled to sound neutral.
“Yes,” he said, nodding. Edward thought about numbers he could quote to her, recent sal
es figures from his ledger.
As soon as this idea occurred to him, though, he quickly discarded it. It would get him nowhere; in fact, it was quite likely it would dig the hole he was in even deeper.
Clara walked down the short aisle, and Edward watched her form as she did. How many nights he had dreamed about the way she looked! Her fine blonde hair, which was done up in an elegant bun. The dress she’d donned for shopping, and the way it seemed to make her hips sway when she walked.
But experiencing these pleasures as her mate seemed further away than ever. Clara’s eyes seemed distant when he tried to engage her, and Edward knew there was little he could do about this, too.
“Have you thought about our last conversation, then?” she asked when Clara was finally back close to him.
“I have,” Edward said haltingly. “I’m not quite ready to set a date yet. I still have to think that through a little.”
Clara’s eyes immediately turned fiery, and Edward flinched and looked away. He stared at the floor, knowing exactly what would happen; when he looked back up, she would still be glaring at him.
Sure enough, that was exactly what he saw when he was able to meet her eyes again. Edward nearly shrugged, but he knew that would only make things worse.
“You’ve been thinking it through for over a month now,” Clara said. Her tone was even, but in a chilling sort of way that made Edward want to look away again. “You don’t seem to have made much progress.”
Edward nodded, sighing as he did. There was no response to this; he knew Clara was absolutely right.
“I know,” he said. “It’s taking me more time than I thought it would.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, you certainly didn’t seem to need much time when you first proposed to me,” Clara pointed out. “Back then you were nearly eager to get married.”
He nodded again, saying nothing this time. There wasn’t a thing Edward could say, for there seemed to be no way he could explain to Clara that he needed to accede to his mother’s wishes, or at least concede to them to some extent.
Edward couldn’t explain this to himself, either. It was a daunting thing that he couldn’t understand—he’d never thought of himself as a mama’s boy, but here he was acting exactly like one.
“Edward, what’s wrong?” Clara asked, and finally he could hear the exasperation in her voice. “Have I done something to warrant you treating me this way?”
Her question nearly brought tears to his eyes, and Edward was forced to look away again.
“No, not at all,” he said, almost stammering. “I just need a little more time, that’s all.”
“Hmm.” Clara set her lips in a tight line. This wasn’t a good sign at all; it indicated that she was near the breaking point. “I can’t wait forever, you know. I am almost twenty.”
Edward nearly chuckled at this, but that would have been the worst thing of all to do. Clara claimed she was wise beyond her years, but twenty hardly seemed venerable to him.
“I know,” he said once more. “I’m doing my best with this.”
Clara nodded, then walked into the main aisle of the store. It was a relief not being stared at, but Edward knew he needed to follow her, to see what was coming next.
She walked down the aisle slowly, as if assessing the progress of the store. To Edward it seemed as if she was taking stock of their situation as well and doing these things in parallel.
When Clara turned back, he caught her stern expression and knew he was in trouble. That’s not good at all, he said to himself.
“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to wait,” she said softly, but with a distinct edge to her voice. “A proposal is a promise, after all. A contract of sorts.”
Edward nodded again, and he sighed. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Clara asked cocking her head. “I’m not so sure.”
He shook his head. “But I do. I just need a little more time,” Edward replied.
She pursed her lips once again. “I need to hear the words ‘I do’ in a different setting, Edward,” she said. “I won’t let this drag on into the winter and then the spring.”
Clara turned toward the door, and Edward nodded one last time. There it was—she’d given him a timeline now, which meant he was really up against it.
Edward thought about his mother in Texas, stifling a grimace as he did. He began to break down his situation further, knowing he had something to work with now.
There are two parts to this, he thought. One is just resolving this problem with my mother. That would be a lot easier if I could talk to her in person.
And that leads to the second part—the distance. The posts take weeks to arrive, sometimes months. It’s crippling me here. Back-and-forth letters alone will take me right up until Christmas.
That was when Edward made a decision. Action was required here. Drastic action. He needed to do something right away, and Edward was beginning to get an idea of what it was.
He walked Clara to the door, determined to have her brief visit end well. The last thing Edward needed was more iciness, which would lead to quarrels. It was time for him to think clearly and act, so he quickly opened the door for her.
“I promise you, everything will turn out fine,” he said. “You’ll see.”
Some of her coldness seemed to recede, and once again Edward could see warmth in Clara’s eyes.
“I hope so,” she said, and he heard genuine anguish in her voice. “All I want is for us to be married and to be happy.”
That’s all my mother wants, too, Edward thought remembering her last letter. But it’s going to take quite a trick to make it happen. That much I’m sure of.
When she left the store Clara walked down Main Street, taking in the shops and the mountains far off in the distance.
She thought of her time in Last Chance, focusing mostly on the transitions that had taken place.
Clara had arrived during the summer, during a glorious stretch of fair weather, and her future had seemed as fair as the bright sunny days that seemed particular to Colorado in their brilliance.
But it wasn’t all peaches and cream, of course. The mayor of Last Chance, Owen Standard, had promised her she would find a husband in the letter he’d sent her, although he hadn’t discussed the specifics all that much.
And on top of that, there was Clara’s situation and her reasons for coming to Last Chance. Clara hailed from Tennessee, and her family had money. There were those in town who said they were “pure southern,” but this wasn’t always a complement.
Clara’s mother, Edna, was a pure matriarch. She believed in the supremacy of her family, and as her only daughter, Clara was supposed to marry and bring even more money into the family.
“You’ll be the torch bearer in a few years,” Edna had said. “It will be up to you to carry on our proud tradition.”
There was just one problem with that—Clara couldn’t do it. Oh, the boys who came her way were handsome enough, and they knew how to sweet talk a girl, even if they were rather oafish in the way they went about it.
But Clara knew what they were really after—the family money. The ones who were the most comical were those who promised Clara the moon, telling her that they were hard workers from families of impeccable character.
Clara knew full well that wasn’t true, however. The most laughable were the sons of moonshiners, who doubtless went back to their cohorts and chortled about putting one over on Clara.
She’d managed to keep them at bay, even if Edna had fallen for one or two. Exposing them had been extremely trying for Clara, mostly because her mother was reluctant to believe her.
Over time they entered into a kind of tug of war about all this. Clara would reject a boy she knew was corrupt, and her mother would embrace him.
Then Clara would have to go to the trouble of exposing the boy, and their battle continued onward.
It was time itself that ended it. Clara wasn’t of age when the process started, but when she was final
ly old enough a different kind of pressure came into play.
“You do have to marry soon,” her mother had pointed out. “We can’t have you turning twenty without at least having a good prospect on the hook.”
The term had made Clara laugh, but it was accurate enough. She’d often thought that marriage in her world was more of a business deal than a romantic affair, although pointing that out directly to Edna would have horrified her mother for sure.
Nonetheless, that’s the way it was, or at least that was how it seemed to Clara. Finally Edna had given her an ultimatum—be married or have a viable prospect by the time she turned twenty, or Clara would no longer be included in the family’s future plans.
The ultimatum seemed harsh, and it had sparked a good deal of controversy within the family. Clara had briefly turned to her father for support, knowing even as she did that getting it wasn’t a realistic possibility.
Her father was a milquetoast. That was the simple fact of the matter; he was brilliant and ruthless in his business affairs, but completely the opposite when it came to his family. He constantly let his wife run roughshod over him, and Clara knew that would never change.
Slowly, though, Clara had come up with a plan.
She’d been given a liberal allowance since she was a young girl; initially this was an indulgence, but then it became more serious, for Clara knew that part of her task as a wife would be helping her husband handle the family finances.
Clara had taken it seriously, too, but in a completely different way. When she entered adolescence she began to sense that things wouldn’t go well with Edna when it came to marriage, so she started to squirrel away some of her money.
That became her way out, although it took some time for Clara to figure out how. She considered running away and starting over, but without a better plan she knew that would probably end badly.
Initially she didn’t know what to do, but Clara kept her ears to the ground. She knew there were opportunities out there, and finally one of her closest friends had mentioned the possibility of Clara becoming a mail order bride.
The Mail Order Brides of Last Chance Page 1