Mail Order Bride: Bitter & Pregnant, An English Widow Heads Off to Her Cowboy Rancher In California (A Clean & Wholesome Historical Romance)

Mail Order Bride: Bitter & Pregnant, An
English Widow Heads Off to Her Cowboy Rancher In California

(A Clean & Wholesome Historical
Romance)

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2015 Enduring Hope & Love
Press

Synopsis: A stubborn and pregnant English
widow makes the long journey to California in the hopes of safe
haven for she and her child, and intent on not marrying her mail
order fiancé because he is merely a means to an end. Her companions
are a young married couple – the man is one that her husband saved
before he fell into the ocean and drowned, so she has a hatred for
him at first. When they all arrive they are met by a far different
man that the woman had come to know through a couple of letters,
and she is quick to try and figure out, if she can, what on earth
is happening.

Jeanne Harrow had been feeling ill for weeks,
she couldn't figure out why, and the worst part of it was that her
husband was nowhere to be seen. He worked for a shipping company
and was usually gone for long periods of time, but he had simply
gone over to France to try to set up a new partnership with a
company based there. He should have been back by now and perhaps
even off on another task. This concerned Jeanne and as she lay on
her bed to wait for her stomach to settle, she heard a knock on the
door.

She groaned, stood up, waited for her head to
stop spinning and went to answer the door. A young man was standing
there, hat in his hands and a frown on his face. She recognized him
from the shipping company's warehouse and she recognized the face
as one that was ready to deliver some bad news.

"Oh no," said Jeanne. "What's wrong?"

"Your husband didn't make it home," said the
young man. "Mister Harrow went down on a ship that was crossing the
Channel. I'm sorry."

"He could swim," said Jeanne, angrily. "What
do you mean he went down? He could swim!"

"He couldn't swim enough I guess," said the
young man. "He might have gotten dragged down."

Jeanne felt that she should be sad, but all
she felt angry. "Did anyone even try to save him?"

"Yes, and Mister Harrow saved me," said the
young man.

"So it's your fault that my husband is dead,"
said Jeanne, and she slammed the door in his face. He tried to say
something, but Jeanne couldn't hear him through the door and her
heavy sobbing. She slid down to the floor, her head swimming with
sadness and nausea, and she spent the rest of the night there.

The next few weeks were especially hard on
her, with the sickness coming and going without warning and people
coming from her husband's company to try to make some sort of
amends. After some time insisting that they simply bring her
husband back, she acceded to their request to at least give him a
proper memorial service. She went to the ceremony, her eyes dry and
as she looked around at all the people who had come to see her
husband off she felt a deep loathing for each one of them.

It wasn't their fault she knew, but each one
was a reminder of what she had once had and was now lost to her.
She needed to leave the country and she needed to do it quickly.
The only problem was that she had no place to go and no desire to
deal with the rest of Europe. That only really left the Americas
and she didn't have nearly enough money to get over there. She
could only see one solution, and so she walked up to her husband's
old boss and slapped him.

"You killed my husband," she said. "You're
the one who sent him to France!"

"Missus Harrow, we couldn't have known that
your husband was going to die," said the boss. "If there's anything
we can do to help you through this time, please let us know."

"I want to go to America," said Jeanne. "I
want to forget all of this."

"I emphasize with your situation but I can't
just send you over there without a plan," said the boss. "That'd be
akin to homicide, leaving you there without any idea of what you're
doing."

"Fine," said Jeanne. "I'll figure out what
I'm going to do and then I'll do it. You'd better be ready with a
fast boat for me."

"We will be," said the boss.

"Good," she said, and then she stormed off.
She had said all she needed to say and she also needed to
vomit.

Half a world away, Joseph Clauson sat on his
fence and watched the animals milling about below. There were cows
and sheep, which was a controversial decision but one that had
proven quite lucrative. He knew this ranch would be his only
legacy, as an accident years before had left him unable to father a
child, but he still ached for something more. He had looked into
adoption, but having a child without a woman seemed wrong to
him.

He had no options left and he got down off
the fence and walked back to his modest home. He had built it with
enough rooms for a family, but the family would never exist. He sat
down at a table and his head ranch-hand, a man named Jack, walked
in with the week's mail.

"The usual, boss," said Jack, and he
left.

Joseph shivered, since Jack had always struck
him as oddly dangerous, but he put those feelings aside and looked
through the mail. Despite Jack's claims, there was one thing that
was new. It was some sort of broadsheet, filled with names,
addresses, and descriptions of people who wanted to get married. He
was about to throw it away when a listing caught his eye.

An old man was seeking a younger woman to
marry and subsequently, leave his fortune so that his brother
wouldn't be able to get it. If a man could do that in one of these,
Joseph reasoned, perhaps he could find a woman who needed a husband
and father for whatever reason. He found a pen and paper and
started writing, describing himself and his desires as truthfully
as possible.

The next morning, he sent it off with Jack
and he hoped the man would get the mail to where it needed to be.
Once that task was done, he dressed for the day and went back to
watch his cattle and sheep and hoped for the best.

Jeanne had gone over a hundred plans in the
days since her husband's memorial but she still couldn't figure out
how she could convince her husband's old boss, whose name was
Thackery, to pay for a trip to America. She couldn't decide if he
was being stingy or overly careful, but all of it could be undone
if she could only figure out a reason to go to America.

The difficulty was compounded by the fact
that Jeanne was still feeling overly sick and there seemed to be
nothing to do about it. She had tried any number of medications and
treatments and was beginning to think that she may be cursed. The
only thing she hadn't really tried was going to a doctor, out of
fear for what the doctor may find, but then she realized that she
might be able to convince a doctor to tell Thackery that Jeanne
needed to go to America for her health. She was now in the waiting
room of Doctor James Donner and she walked back to his office when
called. She sat down on the examination table and kept her hands
folded primly in her lap.

"Hello, Missus Harrow," said Doctor Donner.
"I was sorry to hear about your husband. He was a good man and he
helped me out more than once."

"Perhaps you could help me," said Jeanne. "I
want to leave London and go to America and Mister Thackery has said
he'll help me, but only if I had a plan. I was thinking perhaps,
that you could write a prescription for me."

"That would be unethical," said Doctor
Donner. "Now, I'm sure you have more of a reason to be here than
simple attempted skullduggery."

"I do," said Jeanne, her ire raised. "I've
been sick for well over a month. I think it's the damp London
air."

"If it is, then we'll see about getting you
moved," said Doctor Donner. "What are your symptoms?"

"I feel very nauseous almost all of the
time," said Jeanne. "I've also been very tired and I've just wanted
the oddest meals."

"All right," said Doctor Donner. "Any
tenderness?"

"Now that you mention it, there is some
tenderness," said Jeanne, blushing. "You know, when I say it all,
it almost sounds as if... oh no."

"Yes, Missus Harrow," said Doctor Donner
writing it all down. "Tell me, have you noticed the lack of any
events?"

"Oh no," said Jeanne. "Are you saying that I
might be with child?"

"I am," said Doctor Donner. "Congratulations.
Or not, as the case may be."

"I can use this," said Jeanne. "I can use
this somehow. Thank you, Doctor Donner. I'll square my account with
you before I head to America."

"No rush," said Doctor Donner. "In fact, just
forget about it. Like I said, your husband helped me quite a
lot."

"One last thing. Can I get it in
writing?"

Doctor Donner wrote his diagnosis of Jeanne
and handed it to her and as she left the doctor's office with a
newfound goal, and as she walked by a newsstand, something caught
her eye. It was a broadsheet with a list of names on it, along with
their locations and some light description. Jeanne purchased it and
took it home to look it over, and discovered that it was designed
to help men in the American west find wives.

She had heard of such things before, but had
never seen one, but now she had a perfect way to get Thackery to
pay for her trip. She poured over the broadsheet that night and
found a man she deemed ideal and the best part was that he was on
the western coast of America, in California.

She had no intention of actually marrying or
even meeting him. She jotted down his information and took a coach
to Thackery Shipping. Most of the men paid her no heed, though a
few tipped their hats to her and in the office Thackery was working
out some plans when Jeanne came in. He saw her, smiled, and offered
her a chair.

"Hello, Missus Harrow," said Thackery. "What
can I do for you?"

"What can you do for us," corrected Jeanne,
and she handed over the papers with the diagnosis and location on
them. Thackery took them and Jeanne continued. "I am with child and
a child can't grow up without a father. I've been in correspondence
with one Joseph Clauson in California. He wishes for a family of
his own and I have offered to become his wife."

"I see," said Thackery. "An instant family, I
suppose. Well, I can't really stand in the way of love and I do
have an oath to keep -- except I can't very well send a pregnant
woman to America all by herself."

Jeanne was taken aback. "Excuse me? Why
not?"

"It wouldn't be proper," said Thackery. "I'll
make all the necessary arrangements. I'll even send your man a
telegraph to let him know you're on your way. I know how expensive
those can be. I'll send your assistant by when I've figured out who
to send with you."

"Thank you so much," said Jeanne, already
thinking of ways to ditch her assistant. "I eagerly await their
arrival."

The next day, Joseph was eating his breakfast
when someone started knocking on his door. He answered it and
recognized the visitor as Henry, a young man from the telegraph
office. He was holding a paper and was quite out of breath.

"Why don't you come in and take a seat," said
Joseph. "You look bushed. Did you run all the way here? I thought
that you people had horses."

"We do, but I can't ride one bit," said
Henry. "You have a message all the way from England!"

"Read it to me," said Joseph, sitting down to
continue his breakfast. "Help yourself to the juice and toast.
Don't touch the bacon."

"Mighty kind of you," said Henry, gathering
up a plate full of toast. "Only my boss said I wasn't to read it; I
had to give it to you and not put my stupid nose in the private
business of our customers."

"I see," said Joseph, and he took the letter.
Almost instantly, Henry was over his shoulder. Joseph didn't mind.
The letter was from a man named Thackery, who was sending Joseph
what he termed an "instant family", namely a pregnant widow. She
would be there as soon as possible, probably arriving on train. She
was named Jeanne Harrow and Thackery described her in some detail.
Those details made Henry whistle.

"She sounds like a good 'un," said Henry, who
had somehow obtained a piece of bacon.

"She does," said Joseph. " You know, last
night I prayed and this just goes to show you. He's looking out for
us."

"I'm going to pray for a hundred dollars and
a horse," said Henry. "A race horse."

"He's God, not a genie," said Joseph with a
laugh. "I guess I'll have to get the rooms ready for them. Thank
you, Henry, and you're welcome here any time."

Jeanne was in the midst of packing when there
was a knock at the door. She answered the door wordlessly, opening
it to find two people. One was the young man her husband had saved
and the other was a serious looking young lady. She surmised that
Thackery sent these two as her wardens, and she attempted to shut
the door in their faces. The young man was cleverer than he looked
and his foot blocked the door's closure.