Mail Order Jennifer

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by Margaret Tanner




  Mail-Order

  Jennifer

  Book 2

  Widows, Brides and Secret Babies Series

  Margaret Tanner

  Contents:

  Copyright: Margaret Tanner 2020

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Author Links

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  MAIL-ORDER JENNIFER

  (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies – Book Two)

  Copyright: Margaret Tanner 2020

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.

  This story is a work of fiction, and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting and geography. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.

  Acknowledgements: Many thanks to my author friends, Susan Horsnell and Cheryl Wright, for all their help and support.

  To my loyal readers: Thank you so much for your support. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.

  Cover Artist: Virginia McKevitt

  Chapter One

  Raeburn, Wyoming – 1878

  “Dead? No! No!” Jennifer Bennett’s legs gave way under her and she collapsed to the floor of her small house. Samuel couldn’t be dead.

  Ernie, the ranch foreman, helped her up and half carried her over to the sofa and sat her down, then fanned her with his hat. Tears poured down her cheeks. She crossed her arms on her chest and rocked from side to side.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bennett, I really am. Is there anyone I can get to stay with you?”

  “Um, Mrs. Julian.”

  “She can’t, she’s too busy comforting Sebastian.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s their kid’s fault Sam died.”

  “What!” Jennifer didn’t know how she could speak without screaming. She took several deep, shuddering breaths endeavoring to get herself under control.

  “He was tormenting that new bull Mr. Julian got. The animal charged at him. Sam pushed him out of the way but couldn’t jump clear quick enough and well….”

  She gasped with shock, and fresh tears filled her eyes.

  “I’m real sorry, all the men are, Sam was a good man.”

  “What about….”

  “One of the hands has ridden into town for the undertaker.”

  “Thank you. Could, could I see him?”

  “No, you don’t want to see him. Remember him how he was, better that way.”

  She wrung her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you have any family?”

  “No, my parents returned to England after I married Samuel, and we were never particularly close, and he didn’t know his parents.” How can I speak like this? Because you’re dead inside, that’s why. All she had left in the world now was little Sam. How glad she was that he had been named after his father.

  She glanced around the small house where she had lived since their marriage. They had been happy here. Samuel had plans of one day owning his own small spread.

  “What will I do? Where will I live?”

  “I’m sure the boss will let you stay here, at least for a little while. Samuel gave his life saving their son, so I’m sure they’ll look out for you and the baby.”

  She sniffed. “Thank you.”

  “I better be off, got chores to see to.”

  Once he left, she tiptoed into the bedroom. Sam slept soundly, a little clenched fist pushed up under his chin. Barely eight months old and he had lost his father. She leaned over to brush a golden curl off his forehead. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. “What will become of us?”

  Maybe she could work at the big house, like she did before her marriage, in return for the Julian’s letting her stay here and perhaps they could give her a small wage to buy any supplies not provided by the ranch.

  “You’ve had three years of happiness with a good man. You have a beautiful baby and a roof over your head. How much worse their position could have been? Be thankful for small mercies,” she muttered as she made herself a cup of tea. Having English parents, it was what she had grown up with. Samuel always preferred coffee with his breakfast, otherwise he drank water.

  Slumped in a chair, gripping her cup of tea like she thought it was going to jump out of her hand, she thought of all the happy times spent here. The Christmas tree Samuel had cut down for her every year so she could decorate it with the pretty baubles her parents had once used. The visits from their friends Abby and Murray. Those times would never come again.

  You didn’t realize what you had until it was taken away. She tidied up the small sitting room for when the Julians called in.

  A high-pitched wail had her dashing into the bedroom to Sam. She picked him up. “Are you thirsty, baby?” He made a grab for the top of her dress. “Something terrible has happened to your pa. He’s dead.” Tears rolled down her face as she spoke the heartbreaking words.

  Back in the parlor she sat down and opened her bodice to give him access to her breast. He suckled strongly and she sat stroking his downy hair.

  Mid-afternoon the undertaker arrived with the preacher.

  “My dear, Jennifer, I’m so sorry for your loss. You leave the funeral arrangements to me and the undertaker. I’ve spoken to Abby who said she’ll be out tomorrow to see you.”

  “Thank you, Preacher Tynan.” She held Sam tight.

  He read the twenty-third Psalm to her, then they bowed their heads in prayer. Samuel hadn’t been much of a church goer, but before Sam’s birth she had attended Sunday Services regularly. Abby, at thirty-five, was thirteen years older than her, but they had been good friends. She used to pick her up in her battered old buckboard and they would attend church together.

  After the preacher left, she placed the baby on the floor so he could play with the toys his father had made for him. Sam was a placid child and so beautiful, her heart swelled with pride and love every time she looked at him.

  Now he would be even more precious because it was all she had left of Samuel. Not even a photograph of him to hold for comfort. He had never wanted to have his picture taken, even on their wedding day.

  As dusk fell a couple of the ranch hands called to give their condolences. Of the Julians there was no sign. How shockingly insensitive they were. Typical rich people who only cared for themselves. She understood how upset they would be about their only child having escaped death by mere inches, but what about the widow and son of the man who had sacrificed his own life to save that of their son?

  ~*~

  Abby arrived early the next morning driving a dilapidated buckboard pulled by an old horse, Samuel used to say was crow-bait. Living in town they didn’t really need transport as Murray rode his horse to work in a nearby gold mine.

  Abby climbed down and dashed over to her. “Oh, Jennifer.” Within seconds they were hugging each other and weeping copious tears. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe it when the preacher called in and told me what had happened. What did the Julians say?”

  “They haven’t been near me,” Jennifer said, wringing her hands.

  “What!


  Jennifer scrubbed the tears off her face with her fingertips. Samuel died saving their son….”

  “You better sit down, Jen, you look awful. Little Sam all right?”

  “Yes, he’s too young to know what’s happened, although he has been calling out for his father.”

  “Right. You’re to come into town and stay with us for a few days,” Abby said.

  “I don’t know….”

  “At least stay until after the funeral, Jen. Preacher Tynan’s wife has organized the church ladies to put on afternoon tea after the funeral.”

  “That’s nice of them.” Jennifer appreciated the thought.

  “Throw a few things in a bag and let’s go to my place.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “I do know.” There was a determined thrust to Abby’s chin. A couple of days in town with us will do you good. Even Murray thinks you should get away from here until after the funeral. I’ll help with the baby.”

  “My baby is all I’ve got now.”

  “Well, you’ve got us until we leave her.” She shook her head. “Canada of all places. Murray wants to shift to Canada. Can you believe it?”

  “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “No thanks.” Abby shook her head. “We can have some at my place.”

  “I suppose I should let the Julians know what I’m doing.”

  “Why should you after the way they’ve behaved? It’s just too horrible. You know something, Jen? I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t even bother coming to the funeral.”

  “Yes, they will.”

  Abby was letting her dislike of them distort the way she felt. Samuel had worked for them for several years. She had met him while she was working as a maid at the big house. Of course, they would come.

  They couldn’t take the baby’s crib with them, it was just too big, but Abby filled two carpet bags with their belongings. When Jennifer glanced around, there wasn’t much to show for three years of marriage.

  “When I drop you back here, I’ll help you go through Samuel’s clothes. We can donate them to the church; they can always find someone deserving who needs them.”

  Chapter Two

  The funeral passed in a daze of sorrow loss and grief. The simple graveside ceremony was attended by quite a few mourners. Ernie, the ranch foreman and a couple of the older hands from the ranch were there plus a few of the townsfolk who knew Samuel.

  Jennifer was shocked because the Julians did not come to pay their respects. She couldn’t believe it, especially when Mrs. Julian presented herself as a staunch Christian who sang in the church choir. They didn’t even send flowers. Nothing. It was as if her husband’s life was worthless, even though he had sacrificed it to save their only son.

  After the service had finished, Jennifer threw a bunch of flowers onto the plain wooden coffin before turning away. She couldn’t bear to watch the dirt being thrown on top of Samuel.

  With Abby’s arm around her, and Murray carrying the baby, they trudged back to the preacher’s house. The men from the ranch excused themselves saying they needed to get back to work, although there had been dark mutterings amongst the men at the non- appearance of the Julians.

  Ernie shook her hand, expressed his sympathy once more. As he turned away, she heard him mutter. “I hope those Julians burn in hell and take their brat with them.”

  Except for Mrs. Julian’s cronies, most of the church ladies were sympathetic and offered to mind the baby if she needed them to. The mercantile owners said her account had been wiped clean as a gesture of respect for Samuel. Jennifer was grateful, but the contemptible behavior of the Julians left a sour taste in her mouth.

  ~*~

  The day after the funeral, someone knocked on Abby’s door. Jennifer had just finished feeding the baby and placed him in the bed that he was sharing with her. As she straightened up, she heard Abby exclaim. “That can’t be right, no-one could be so despicable.”

  On stepping into the sitting room, Ernie, the foreman said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t believe it myself when they told me.”

  Jennifer stumbled toward him. He looked pale and agitated. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bennett. I….I’ve got the rest of your belongings in the wagon out front.”

  “My belongings?”

  “Yes, those lowdown polecats have given your house to someone else.”

  “Oh, no.” Tears sprung to her eyes and she blinked them back, even as she swallowed the nausea rising into her throat.

  “I’m afraid so. None of the hands who knew your husband would take the place, so they hired a stranger with a couple of kids who jumped at the chance.”

  “Sit down, Jennifer,” Abby said. “You look ready to collapse. I’ll help bring your stuff in. You can stay here until we sort something out.”

  “They’ve taken my husband, now my home. I hate them. Hate them,” she screamed.

  “Hush,” Abby said. “You’ll wake the baby. You’re better off without them.”

  “Um, Mrs. Bennett,” Ernie drew an envelope out of his pocket. “There’s some money in here for you. The men wanted to help out, your husband was well liked and respected. It isn’t a lot as the boys don’t earn much. The Julians are so mean.”

  “Thank you, but I couldn’t take their money.”

  “You can and you will. They wanted you to have it. You’ll need all the help you can get with the baby and all.”

  When he put it that way, how could she refuse such a kind gesture, and she did have the baby to think about. “Tell them thank you. At least I know a few people on the ranch cared about Samuel.”

  After Ernie had left, Abby helped Jennifer into the bedroom. “Have a lie down, you look terrible.”

  “How could they take my home away?”

  “They’re despicable. Don’t worry, they’ll feel the wrath of the Lord one of these days. I wish we weren’t leaving here now.”

  “It’s nice of you to feel this way, Abby, but you can’t reject such a good offer. Murray might never get the chance again. You said he’s getting to the stage of not being able to do the heavy mine work now. A job in the assay office of a gold buying company is perfect for him. And with his brother working at the same place, it will be even better.”

  Jennifer tried to pull herself together. Abby and Murray had their own paths in life to take. They couldn’t be diverted because of her and Sam. It wouldn’t be fair no matter how much she needed their help. Mining was hard, heavy work and Murray had already survived one mine collapse. She couldn’t have it on her conscience to stop him from getting an easier, safer job.

  “We’ll talk about it more after you have a rest,” Abby said. “If you’ll be okay, I’ll go to the mercantile and get a few things.”

  “Use some of the money the ranch hands gave me.”

  “I will not, it’s yours to keep for when you need it.”

  ~*~

  Two months after Samuel’s death, Jennifer was having an afternoon nap, drifting between sleep and wakefulness when Abby dashed into the bedroom. “

  “Are you awake?”

  Jennifer shook her head trying to focus her eyes.

  “Quick, I’ve got a plan for you.”

  Jennifer swung her legs off the bed and stood.

  “I should have thought of it myself.” Abby waved her arms around.

  “Thought of what?” Jennifer straightened her skirt and followed her friend out into the sitting room. “What is it? What plan?”

  “A mail-order bride.”

  “A what?”

  “I should have thought of it before, Jen.”

  “I don’t want to get married, I loved Samuel.”

  “You’ve got a baby to look after, you have to consider everything.”

  “I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.” Tears flooded her face.

  “Listen to me, Jen. My cousin Oliver got himself a mail-order bride and it worked out well for them. They’ve been ha
ppily married for ten years and still madly in love with each other.”

  Jennifer was starting to feel ill just thinking about marriage to another man so soon after Samuel’s death.

  “You can and you will if you find the right man.”

  “I couldn’t bear to have another man touch me. Share his bed.” Jennifer shuddered.

  “Not all men looking for a mail-order bride want a woman to sleep with them. There’s an agency in Laramie who are advertising in the newspaper. They could find you someone suitable.”

  “No.”

  “What have you got to lose. Look, here’s one. Lawyer in San Francisco who wants an attractive loving wife.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, here’s another one. Rancher CM near Laramie looking for a wife. Must be young and presentable and have lived on a ranch. All letters will be answered. Would like to correspond and get to know each other before making a commitment. Age thirty-three, tall with no physical impairment. He sounds suitable.”

  “I don’t know.” Jennifer gnawed her lower lip. Abby was right, she had to do something. They would be moving to Canada soon, then where would she be then?

  “At least write to him. You need to do it through the Discretion Matrimonial Agency. They were the ones who placed the advertisement.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Jennifer promised.

  “Well, don’t take too long. If he’s any good, he’ll be snapped up quickly. There are a lot of desperate woman looking for husbands.”

  Chapter Three

  Laramie

  “What do you mean you’re calling the wedding off?” Clay Moore stalked up and down in the lobby of the hotel where Roseanne worked. He felt as if he’d been gut-shot.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve found someone else who has much more money than you.”

  “I’ll own a ranch in a few months, free and clear. How much richer do you need to be?”

  “Norman dug up a fortune on the Californian goldfields.”

 

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