ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories) (63 page)

Capítulo 8

Krista tenía la esperanza de que la licitación momento compartieron juntos fue algo más que palabras. Ella quería que fuera cierto. Más que nada quería cambiar sus vidas. Esos sueños y esperanzas se materialicen en las más bellas formas. Realmente sentí que Dios estaba sonriendo hacia abajo sobre ellos después de que la tormenta. 

Bill era mucho más fácil hablar en los días que siguieron, y cuando Krista explicó que prefería con mucho trabajo con la tierra, estaba feliz de tenerla a su lado en el rancho. Él enseña cómo para arrear el ganado. Ella vio más rápido de lo que esperaba. Ella era un activo para el rancho, pero ella también era el mejor amigo y esposa que podía haber pedido. Ella no dudó en ponerlo en su lugar cuando lo necesitaba, pero ella también fue la primera persona a recogerlo cuando cayó. 

Cuanto más tiempo la pasamos juntos, más Bill sabía que necesitaba Krista. Ella le mantuvo la cordura y mantienen su nivel. Cuando su temperamento quedó fuera de control, la oradora calmarlo. Cuando estaba siendo demasiado duro con él, ella beso su mejilla y mantenga su mano. Era todo lo que necesitaba hacer para traerlo de vuelta a la tierra. Ella hizo mucho para él que él pensó que podría devolver el favor. 

Bill sabía que su matrimonio era rápido y poco llamativa. No hubo ninguna ceremonia y vestido blanco. Sabía que quería algo más, y él pensó que ya era hora de que él le dio a ella. Krista merecía el mundo, así que él podría al menos darle una boda. 

Regresaba de la ciudad con una gran caja sentado encima de las bolsas de alimentación. Se subió encima de su caballo y vinculado a la post, pasando justo a tiempo para ver Krista correr hacia él desde los campos. Sus mejillas eran de color rojo del sol. Su pelo voló detrás de ella en una trenza desordenada. Fue en esos momentos que él pensó que parecía la más bella. 

Ella abordar todos pero él, lanzando sus brazos alrededor de él y besar su mejilla con entusiasmo. "Bienvenido a casa!".

Su dinámica en los últimos meses cambió radicalmente. Se sintieron más cómodos el uno con el otro. Lo mejor, en opinión de Krista, fue que la ley realmente comenzó a sonreír más. Él chuckled y abracé cerrar por un momento, motioning en el carro. 

"Me ayudan a descargar?".

"Seguro". 

Ella corrió hacia el lado del carro y saltó a la rueda fácilmente, echándole un vistazo a la caja de arena blanca en la parte superior. Era demasiado pequeña para tener algo para el rancho. Hubo un gran lazo rosa que fue atado en la parte superior para que luzca bonito y elegante. 

"¿Qué es esto?".

"ABIERTO".

Ella dudó pero lentamente sacó el arco en la parte superior de la caja y la tapa. Sus ojos desencajados, y ella se quedó sin aliento, manos volando hacia su boca como ella sacó un vestido blanco puro. El vestido había cordón de mano y hermosos detalles de encaje. Sus ojos desencajados, y luchó para hablar. 

"Esto es hermoso, Bill. ¿Qué es?".
"Es su vestido de boda".

Sus ojos abiertos, disparo y ella se sacude vertical, jadeando como ella comenzó a caer fuera de la rueda. Bill se movía rápido y se las arregló para cogerla antes de que ella o el vestido-golpean el suelo. Ocupó la pequeña mujer, estilo nupcial, y sonrió cuando ella embraga el vestido a su pecho, sonriendo. 

"Sé que no te dan mucho de una boda. Yo quería hacer eso," dijo él, fijando su abajo sobre sus pies con facilidad. 

Krista abrió su boca, pero nada salió. Ella se cerró y lo intentó de nuevo, pero no había nada, sino silencio. Por último, la oradora dio para arriba en palabras todos juntos y tiró sus brazos alrededor del cuello de Bill, sosteniendo lo acercó y besarse él ansiosamente. Fue capturado fuera de guardia, pero se las arregló para envolver sus brazos alrededor de ella de todos modos, su elevación del suelo y devolviendo el beso alegremente. 

Propagación del calor a través de Krista que la dejó muda. Todo lo que ella pudo hacer fue dejar salir una risa suave como luces explotó detrás de los ojos. El beso fue nada menos que pura magia. Ella estaba agradecida estaba sosteniendo su porque las rodillas se debilita, y sus piernas casi dio a cabo. 

Cuando finalmente rompió el beso, ella estaba sonriendo salvajemente, pelo soplando en el viento. Se colocó unas hebras detrás de su oreja y se inclinó hacia el beso de nariz. 

"Este ha sido un largo tiempo en llegar, Krista. I love you", le susurró. 

Ella ahuecada sus mejillas y salpicó besos en todo su rostro. "Te amo demasiado, gran idiota", le susurró. "y nada me haría más feliz al casarse de nuevo".

Ellos se rieron juntos, sosteniendo los unos a los otros como el sol se puso detrás de ellos. En ese momento, ambos sabían que eran el uno para el otro. Este era el plan de Dios, y tienen la intención de seguir adelante. Finalmente fueron siendo liberados de todos sus dolores y sufrimientos y se concedieron la feliz siempre después de que ellos se merecen. 

El final

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Clean Western Mail Order Bride

By: Nathan Adams

Chapter One

There was a crystal chandelier that hung just above the dancing couples, casting them all in diamond rays of light. It was a beautiful scene, framed by clusters of flowers and mirrors that looked as though they were ten feet tall. It was an elegant visage, and yet, despite Rachel’s direct gaze, it could not hold her attention.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Miranda asked as she came up behind Rachel.

Rachel shrugged as she passed her mother a cursory glance. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t shrug,” Miranda said severely. “A lady does not shrug.”

“Oh mother,” Rachel sighed. “No one cares.”

Miranda shot her a stern look. “I’ll thank you to conduct yourself with propriety in the company of our friends.”

Rachel couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped her. “Friends?” she said sceptically. “They are hardly our friends.”

“Lower your tone,” Miranda whispered. “Or someone will hear you.”

“I really don’t care,” Rachel shot back defiantly.

Miranda moved in front of her, concealing the dancing couples that Rachel had been watching. “What is wrong with you this evening?” she asked in her no-nonsense tone.

“I didn’t want to come tonight,” Rachel said flatly.

“And why not?” her mother asked.

“Because I have to endure the same monotonous evening over and over again. I’m tired of it. There’s nothing…
new
to see, there’s nothing
interesting
. It’s the same old people, saying the same old things. Gossip, gossip, and more gossip, that’s all anyone ever does at these events. That’s all people ever do in this society.”

“Really Rachel,” Miranda said in shocked whispers. “Is that any way to talk?”

“It’s the truth,” Rachel said, looking directly at her mother for emphasis.

Her mother fixed her with a stony gaze. “Once you have married and settled down, all this silly talk of monotony and boredom will cease, and you will at last become a part of society.”

Rachel shook her head. “You don’t understand mother,” she said wearily. “Even if I were to marry, it would change nothing. My life would be exactly the same, I would manage the house and the staff, and I would wear pretty dresses and go to dances and dinners and partake in the gossip of the night.”

Miranda all but raised her hands in frustration. “And what on earth is the matter with that?”

“There’s nothing here mother,” Rachel said gently. “There’s no real living to be done here. There’s no adventure, no sense that life
means
something.”

“You are being very silly,” Miranda said with a shake of her head. “And ungrateful. You’re father and I have done everything to make sure you want for nothing.”

“And while I appreciate all that you and papa have done for me, I long to venture out on my own, and live my life.”

Miranda reached out and pushed back a loose lock of Rachel’s hair. “It is not proper for a respectable woman to ‘venture out on her own’. While you are unmarried, you’re place is with your father and I. And once we have found you a suitable partner, then you will be able to have the adventure you crave.”

Rachel gave her mother a look of disbelief. “Adventure?” she repeated. “It will be the same life in a different house. It will be
your
life mother.”

Miranda looked at Rachel carefully. “I think it is high time you were married. What you need is not adventure. What you need is a husband.”

She turned and walked away before Rachel could respond, her rust-colored satin dress catching the lights from the chandelier overhead. Rachel knew that she would never be able to make her mother understand where she was coming from. There was no way to explain to her parents that the life they had lived and loved was not the one that she desired for herself. She saw her future if she stayed where she was, and she could almost feel the color draining from her life.

It was while she was standing there in the shadows of the ballroom, that Rachel considered the possibility that her mother may be right about one thing; perhaps she did need a husband. Not a man like those who stood before her, men who attended dances and courted young ladies and cared about their clothes. No, she would need a different man, a man who could liberate her from the claustrophobia of her current situation and give her the freedom she craved.

Rachel stared around the crowded ballroom and the scene before her faded away as a new possible future took shape before her. It was a bold decision, but Rachel understood that she would never achieve what she desired if she wasn’t willing to be bold. Adventure had never been for the faint-hearted.

Chapter Two

Rachel had never set eyes on a place like Montana before. It stretched on for miles and miles without end. The sky seemed bigger, the air seemed cleaner, and the colors seemed brighter.

“Can I give you a ride somewhere ma’am?”

Rachel turned in the direction of the drawling older gentleman that stood before her. He was wearing dirty grey trousers and suspenders that looked as though they had seen better days. He had a brilliant handlebar moustache that hid a kind smile.

“No, no thank you,” Rachel said hurriedly. “I’m waiting for someone actually. His name is Cole Dalton.”

“Why, you must be his new bride,” the man said as his eyes lit up with delight. “And as pretty as a picture you are.”

Rachel inclined her head at the compliment but she couldn’t summon the usual delight. She was starting to feel the heat and her legs had begun to ache. “Do you know how far Mr Dalton’s ranch is?” she asked, wondering if she would be forced to make the journey there alone.

“Too far for walking ma’am,” the man replied. “I can take you there in the evening.”

Rachel was considering the offer when a horse and buggy pulled up a few feet away from where she stood. The horse’s hooves kicked up such a storm of sand that Rachel had to shield her eyes and take a step back. She was wiping the dirt from her eyes when a high pitched little voice called her name.

“Are you the Parker woman? Rachel Parker?”

Rachel felt herself bristle at the undignified manner in which she had been addressed, but she straightened herself up and looked towards the rider. Where she had expected a young man with a high voice, she was faced with a small boy in dirt-stained trousers and a straw hat. She composed herself quickly and masked her surprise, a trait that she was glad her mother had so effectively ingrained into her.

“Yes,” Rachel nodded with dignity. “I am Rachel Parker.”

“Hop on then,” the boy said abruptly. “We best be getting on.”

Rachel moved towards the buggy and looked at it with panic rising in her breast. There was no way she could get into it with anything close to dignity. She maintained an air of unconcern, as she turned to the seated boy who was regarding her with a steely blue-eyed gaze.

“You will need to help me with my things,” Rachel said.

He rolled his eyes without bothering to mask the expression and jumped down from the carriage. His hat flew off mid jump and a tumble of dark brown hair spilled free. Rachel felt her breath catch as she realized that he was not a boy at all.

“Dear Lord,” Rachel exclaimed. “You’re a little girl.”

“There ain’t nothing little about me,” the child snapped at her, her blue eyes blazing as she stepped forward and grabbed Rachel’s bag. She threw it unceremoniously into the trap and looked at Rachel threateningly, as though daring her to make another observation.

Rachel heard a chuckle behind her and the older gentleman who had spoken to her earlier stepped forward.

“Don’t mind the chikkabiddy,” he said. “She may look wild, but she doesn’t bite.”

“How would
you
know?” the girl asked, as she grabbed a hold of the horse’s reins and jumped back into her seat with catlike grace.

He ignored the comment and offered a hand to Rachel to help her into the wagon. She accepted his help gratefully and managed to climb into the shaky cart and onto its sand strewn seat. “Thank you so much for your help sir,” Rachel said.

“The name’s Isaiah Pickett ma’am,” he said with a tip of his hat. “It was a pleasure indeed.”

Impatient with the exchange, the girl spurred the horse forward, kicking up another whirlwind of sand as they made their way through the main town. Rachel swallowed back her thirst, wishing that she could lean back into a cushioned backrest without fear of smudging her dress.

“It was right stupid of you to wear white,” the girl said without bothering to turn her head.

Rachel’s journey had been long and hard and her patience was at its end. She wasn’t sure why her new husband had thought it fit to hire a child to work on his ranch, but if it were to be so, she would have to take it upon herself to teach the child respect.

“I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,” she said curtly. “Now how much longer to the ranch?”

“Awhile,” the girl replied.

Rachel sighed but didn’t insist upon an elaboration. She was too tired to attempt discipline at that particular moment. The journey to the ranch took longer than she had anticipated, but when they finally turned a sharp bend in the road, Rachel saw miles and miles of green grass, enclosures, and cattle grazing in the furthest field.

It was so picturesque that for just a moment, she forgot her fatigue and gave into admiration. The ranch house was smaller than she had expected, but it looked sturdy and full of character. Rachel managed to get off the wagon by herself and she was dusting off her skirts when she heard someone approach.

The man coming towards her was tall, broad-shouldered, and lean. He had a long face that hollowed in at the cheeks and sharp blue eyes that pierced Rachel at first glance. He was younger than she had expected and more handsome than she had dared hope. The only thing that unsettled her was his lack of smile. He gazed at her with unblinking curiosity, making her blush under his scrutiny.

Rachel was suddenly painfully aware of her own appearance and she felt the need to run her fingers through her hair or pinch her cheeks for color. She stayed her hand and thanked God for her golden hair and her ash-grey eyes. They were features that didn’t require grooming or highlighting to be considered beautiful.

“Good evening ma’am,” he said, stopping short a few feet from where she stood.

“You may call me Rachel,” she said. After all, he
was
to be her husband.

“Rachel then,” he nodded. “I’m Cole.”

“Yes, I know,” Rachel said with a smile.

A large thud drew Rachel’s attention as her bag was thrown to the ground from the wagon. “Dear Lord, be careful with that,” she exclaimed to the girl. “Everything I own is in that bag.”

The girl jumped out of the wagon and looked at her with those too-blue eyes. “You can take it in yourself then,” she said before running toward the stables at full speed. Rachel took a deep breath and turned to her new husband, hoping to hear him reprimand the child in some way. Instead, he was gazing after her with some expression that Rachel found difficult to decipher.

“This is a big change for her,” Cole said quietly. “I’m sure you understand.”

Rachel looked at him in confusion. “Understand what exactly?”

“She’s used to it being just the two of us,” Cole went on as he continued to stare after the girl. “She’s finding it hard to adjust to my re-marrying.”

Rachel turned her head and saw the child disappear into the stables. Slowly, realization dawned.

“My wife died two years ago,” Cole went on as though he were talking to himself. “Jane was only seven.”

The child was no ranch hand; she was Rachel’s new stepdaughter.