ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories) (66 page)

Chapter Eight

Rachel sat on her bed holding the one book she had brought with her to Montana. It was a children’s storybook that Alice had loved when they were young. Rachel scanned through the pages feeling nostalgia and loss overwhelm her.

All the ranch hands were working today, which gave her a small respite from the constant strain of work that had to be done. She was turning through the pages when she noticed a small shadow lingering just outside her door.

“Jane?” Rachel called.

She stuck her head in. “You’re not in the fields today?”

“Not today,” Rachel replied.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading an old story book,” Rachel replied. “Would you like to read it with me?”

Jane slipped into the room cautiously; her eyes flitted about like a thief. “I can’t read so well.”

“That’s alright,” Rachel said with a smile. “I can help you.”

Hesitantly, Jane edged closer until she was sitting on the very corner of Rachel’s bed. She peered at the book with feigned disinterest but Rachel saw the light spark in her eyes at the sight of the bright pictures.

Rachel started reading until her voice had taken a lyrical quality and it sounded almost as though she were singing a song rather than reading a story. She could see how invested Jane was in the tale, and it struck her again how fast the child had been forced to grow up in this rough world. She was still just a little girl who had lost her mother too young.

“Did you like the story?” Rachel asked when she had finished.

“Yes,” Jane nodded enthusiastically. “Do you have others?

“I didn’t bring any other books with me,” Rachel said. “But I have a hundred more stories in my head and I can tell you all of them.”

Jane smiled and then she nodded shyly. She felt her spirits rise, but then she remembered the coldness that stood between Rachel and Cole and her happiness melted away. She wondered what she would do if Cole turned Rachel away, they were not married yet and he could easily do so. Once that thought had entered Jane’s mind, it would not leave, it clung to her like a bad smell and no matter how hard she tried to bury it, it came back up again.

Days passed and Cole conversed with Rachel in grunts and nods. It seemed as though what little progress they had made had been forgotten in the wake of their last conversation. Rachel took to the stables more and more often, finding comfort in the company of the horses. She tended their needs, and spoke to them in steady whispers. She was in the stables one night after all the work had been finished and the horses had been fed and watered.

“I never thought I would like riding so much,” Rachel whispered to Silver. “But now, I think I might actually love it.”

She stroked the animal’s great head, wishing the horse could talk back.

“You’ve started talking to the horses,” Cole’s voice came from just behind her.

Rachel whirled around, taken by surprise. “I thought you were in the house.”

“I was,” Cole nodded as he moved forward. “I came here to talk to you.”

Rachel felt her palms start to sweat. “About what?”

“Our situation…” Cole said before trailing off.

Rachel swallowed and took a deep breath. She believed everything she had told Cole and she wasn’t about to take anything back simply because she was scared of where that may lead.

“Cole,” she started shakily. “I know I said some things that upset you, and you were right. I didn’t know your wife and I had no right to presume that I knew anything about what she would have wanted. I should have just told you how I felt about it. I believe that Jane should go to school and have friends her own age, and enjoy her childhood. It doesn’t last forever, and there will come a time for her to work until her back is sore and her hands are blistered.”

Cole said nothing, he was looking at her, but his eyes were far away.

“I understand that you might disagree with me, and as Jane’s father you have the final say. But if I am to be her stepmother, I will want a say as well and I suppose that knowledge might affect your decision.”

Cole looked up at those words. “My decision?” he repeated as though he didn’t understand.

“I’m sure you’re reluctance to marry me has been motivated by doubt,” Rachel said as calmly as she could manage. “Perhaps you wanted to see how Jane would take to me. Perhaps you were not sure you wanted to marry again. Perhaps you simply did not think I was right for this life or your family. Whatever your reasons for delay, I think it best for both of us that a decision be made sooner rather than later.”

She stood there a moment longer and then she turned from him, ready to make her way back to the house.

“That’s not it,” Cole said, stopping Rachel in her tracks.

“What?” she asked turning around.

“That’s not why I delayed marrying you,” Cole said softly.

Rachel waited patiently until he was ready to explain himself.

“You said yourself, you didn’t know what you wanted, you just wanted out of the life you were living,” Cole said.

“Yes, I did say that.”

“I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into,” Cole went on. “This life is not easy, even to those born into it. I have a child to think of and I needed to make sure you were gonna stick around before things were made official.”

“I’m still here Cole,” Rachel pointed out.

“Are you here because you have nowhere else to go, or because you really wanna be here?”

Rachel stepped toward Cole until they were only inches apart. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things. And I’ll admit, I have wondered if I made a mistake in coming here. But I’ve come to realize that as hard as this life is, and as all-consuming as it might be, this is the first place I have felt truly free.”

“You’re sure?” Cole asked. “A few weeks are very different to a lifetime.”

“I understand,” Rachel nodded. “I think I can take on the challenge. This will be my life’s adventure.”

Cole looked at her as though he couldn’t understand her at all. “We have very different ideas of what an adventure looks like.”

Rachel smiled. “Well maybe our differences will be a boon to us.”

“I thought about what you said about Jane,” Cole said quietly. “I think you may be right.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t expect that.”

Cole sighed. “I’m a stubborn man and I’m set in my ways, but I can be made to see reason if you’re patient enough.”

Rachel smiled. “I can be patient.”

One corner of Cole’s mouth went up in a tilted smile that Rachel had never seen before. It was subtle but all the more beautiful for it.

“When shall we be married Cole?” Rachel asked.

“Tomorrow,” Cole replied.

Then slowly, almost nervously, he bent his head down and gently pressed his lips against hers.

The End

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Clean Western Mail Order Bride Romance

By: Richard Christian

The day offered promises of spiritual power and healing for those who found themselves astray from God’s enlightening path, and somehow, young Eliza Hutchins considered herself one of those people. Although her youthful purity, chastity, kindness, generosity and overall sincerity in all of her relationships potentially made her the perfect wife for anyone who had ever wished for one, it somehow didn’t happen for her.

And now, being almost 24 years of age, Eliza was starting to worry. Humbler and gentler than many other young, married women of her age, she knew that her pious, Christian behavior was the key to what she considered to be a happy, healthy marriage. After all, that was exactly what her parents had. What they tried, and what they managed to do successfully, was to imitate the humble behavior of their Savior in their every endeavor, and somehow, everything else seemed to magically take care of itself. That was what Eliza was brought up to believe: All you need to be is a good girl who obeys Christ, and you shall be rewarded greatly for your devotion.

Then how come Eliza was constantly made to miss her turn when it came to courting and marriage? Was she doing something wrong? Many a time, late at night when everyone else had gone to sleep, Eliza would kneel before her bed and address the only One she thought could clarify this confusing situation for her. What was true prayer if not a personal, private conversation with God? Even though He seemed to be quiet most of the time, she knew He was listening. She knew He was there for her. She just didn’t know exactly what His plan was for her, and she was more than eager to find out.

That afternoon, she was about to knock on the door to her parents’ room when she heard a heated conversation taking place behind closed doors. Although she knew listening in on someone else’s private conversation was wrong, curiosity got the best of her, and she caught herself cautiously leaning against the heavy wooden door trying to make out what the conversation was about. Although most of it was muffled to the point of inaudibility, she did manage to make out a few things.

“Oh, Garth!” Her mother’s voice was always the most distinct one in the house. “What if that never happens?” She seemed to be seriously preoccupied with something.

“We must see to it that it does, dear. Otherwise … ,” her father’s masculine, reassuring voice replied calmly, as ever.

“But she is already 24!” her mother gasped.

So, that’s what it was, Eliza thought. Her parents were worried she would remain an old maid and as such would never provide them with grandchildren they were secretly yearning for. This made Eliza sad. Far be it that she desired this situation, but there was little she could do about it. It was a man’s world she was living in, and their rules had to be obeyed. She pressed her ear more tightly to the door.

“What about that nice young Braelyn fellow?” her mother continued hopefully.

“No, he is betrothed already,” her father remarked.

So now they were trying to find her a suitable match? No, no, no! It couldn’t be a setup marriage. She had to love this man; otherwise, how could she ever reveal herself to him in a way a wife reveals herself fully and without restraint?

Eliza had heard enough. Listening in any longer on this conversation would just prolong the suffering and make her feel even worse than she was feeling now.

No, the time for talking as well as listening had passed. It was time to act, to take matters into her own hands and see what she could do, guided by God’s loving hand. She knew that there was a way out—she just hadn’t found it yet. But she was confident that He would show her the way, as he always did with those who feel lost. He tenderly revives and restores those who believe in Him because everything happens for a reason. There is always a grand scheme to things, even though us humans, in our limited understanding of heavenly affairs, cannot always grasp this idea.

But, then again, we can and should always believe and reaffirm the mystery and wonder of an intimate relationship with not only God but also another human being, all the while keeping within the context of patience, love and kindness.

With those thoughts in mind that night, Eliza prayed like she had never prayed before: with a profound desire to truly surrender to Him and his plan for her, which she knew would open up incredible opportunities and chances to do more, to be more and to experience a true Christian life for herself in the roles that she most desired—those of a wife and mother.

During the following days, things seemed settle back to normal. Eliza’s parents treated her no differently than before the conversation she had overheard, and she didn’t reveal any knowledge of it. Nonetheless, her mind was racing with ideas, trying to find a way that would allow her to best serve God, not only as a daughter and young woman but also as something more, something that every woman was destined to become at a crucial point in her life.

One morning while leafing through the
Daily Gazette,
Eliza stumbled upon something she would have never dared to consider before. What she saw was an advertisement for something known as a mail-order bride. She had heard of this from her friends who used to read these ads out loud and giggle to themselves, trying to imagine what kind of a man would put up an ad for a wife. Eliza didn’t enjoy these readings and would spend that time lost in her own thoughts. This time, however, something made her think about it more seriously.

Indeed, what sort of a man would put up such an ad? Was he a true believer? Was he a good, kind and decent man? And how would she know all this for sure?

For a second time, her curiosity got the best of her. As her finger trailed several ads, it stopped on one ad that caught her attention. It was brief, much shorter than all others; however, it conveyed all of the necessary information. The name of the man was Ambrose Wershing, and Eliza’s mind instantaneously created a whole backstory for him. She imagined a blond-haired little boy running through meadows, riding a pony, and then when older, a sturdy horse that would only be ridden by him. She gave him stamina, character, bravery and a handsome face.

How silly of me! She giggled to herself and immediately looked up to check if anyone had entered the room and heard her giggle. Reassuring herself that she was safe with her own thoughts, she continued reading through his ad.

The real impression she got of Ambrose Wershing was that he was a simple man who was tired of looking for love in all the wrong places, a man who had been disappointed too many times in life and was simply looking for a sweet and gentle companion to share his love of Christ with. Upon closing the newspaper, Eliza knew she had to write to him and immediately set out to do so.

Her letter was genuinely sweet and earnest but without too much embellishment. She wanted to reveal all of herself to him, but upon second thought, opted against it and revealed only as much as was necessary in this first letter. She hoped there would be many more to come. Trying to be curt, brief and efficient but with a touch of sentimentality, Eliza reread her letter several times before she was satisfied with how it turned out. She mailed it that very same day and spent the next few, eagerly waiting for his reply.

She didn’t have to wait long. Ambrose’s reply came as quickly as circumstances allowed, and Eliza soon found herself in the same reclining position, only now reading his reply with a heart that beat like a marching band.

My Dear Miss Eliza Hutchins,

I must admit that your letter caught me a little off guard, as I swear I didn’t really expect someone as sweet as you would reply to me. I reckon, I’m not a big bug around these parts, but I assure you I can provide for you just like any finer man could. As you might have known, my life is all about doxology works. I am Christian man, and what I want is a wife who shares my interests in leading a good Christian life.

From your letter, my impression is—if you’ll pardon me for being so bold—that you are as fine as cream gravy, and nothing would make me happier than to receive yet another reply, written in your delicate little hand.

Now I might not be much of a talker, but I am one thing, and that is a doer. I’ve gotten the mitten several times from other women, but still, I’m not a hard case. I’m just a regular Joe, looking to find someone to share his life with. I do hope that someone could be you, Miss Eliza.

You will find me eagerly awaiting your reply.

In the meantime, I remain respectfully yours,

Ambrose Wershing

Eliza read Ambrose’s letter several times, each time finding it more appealing and tender. Although it was true that all she had was his word and nothing more, she knew she needed to place her trust completely in the hands of God and have faith that whatever was taking place was happening for a very good reason. And she chose to do so.

She wrote her reply quickly, eagerly, again wishing to reveal her innermost desires about life but refrained from doing so. It’d be better to do it little by little, she advised herself.

Weeks passed, and several letters found their way back to Eliza, who always approached them with the same eagerness and tenderness as the first one. Every letter contained more information about Ambrose, this mysterious man whose existence, previously completely unknown to her, was now opening up a whole new array of possibilities.

He spoke openly and honestly about wanting her to join him out West and after some instruction, help him with his business. He appeared lonely, more so than any Christian soul should be made to feel, and there was nothing better that Eliza would have wanted to do than go to him and offer comfort, but she knew that it was not for her to make this decision. This was partly why she devoured every single letter of his, happy for his words and grateful for the reply but, at the same time, slightly disappointed that he still hadn’t mentioned anything about him sending for her.

That is, until finally, she read those exact words. They rang like church bells in her mind, and her exalted state of mind was unparalleled as she revealed the history of their correspondences to her parents. Truth be told, her mother had been familiar with the entire affair for quite some time now, but for the sake of Eliza’s father, she pretended to be unaware of the secret.

The initial plan was for Eliza to travel by coach, but then a telegram arrived that changed their plans. Ambrose was to travel on business exactly during the time that she was to be traveling toward her new home, so he offered to fetch her by coach, with himself traveling by train.

Nevertheless, Eliza thought, traveling by train seemed to be the more tempting option.

“Oh, just think of all the interesting people I would meet during my trip,” she said enthusiastically to her parents.

“But, Eliza, dear,” her mother worried, “is it safe for a young lady to travel all by herself by train? I must admit, this all frightens me so.” Her motherly instincts were ringing within her mind with a suspicion that could not be silenced, but her stubborn daughter would not be appeased.

“I assure you, Mother, there is no fear of anything bad happening to me. I shall simply board the train here and get off where Ambrose will be waiting for me. I certainly won’t be roaming the streets by myself,” she added. Her mother returned the smile but remained equally worried, even though she chose not to show it.

Ambrose’s telegram showed equally tender concern, but after Eliza’s determined but sweet reply, he realized that a woman who had set her mind on something would not budge for anything in the world and decided to go along with Eliza’s plan of waiting for her at the train station at the designated time.

Eliza’s departure was one of the busiest, noisiest moments of her life. The train station in her little town was full of activity. People were coming and going, saying goodbye and welcoming loved ones. This time, she was destined for a goodbye, but hopefully, that would soon change.

Her suitcase was boarded while Eliza was locked in a never-ending embrace with her family.

“Do write when you arrive, Darling!” Her mother’s teary eyes would haunt Eliza for days to come.

It was a bittersweet event. Eliza was happy to be entering a whole new stage of life, one that promised to fulfill all of her lifelong dreams and desires, but at the same time, she was feeling melancholic about leaving all her loved ones behind.

We’ll visit one another often, and we’ll write, too. She consoled herself quietly as she hugged her mother even tighter.

The whistle sounded. It was time everyone board the train.

“Have a safe trip, Dear.” Her mother waved a wet handkerchief. “Your father and I already miss you.” Propped up by her husband’s arm, her tears flowed endlessly.

“I love you!” Eliza yelled in reply, trying to be louder than the steam machine that was about to set the train in motion.

A few minutes later, Eliza had left her old life behind. As she was getting comfortable in the seat of her train cabin, neglecting to pay attention to the beautiful scenery that was opening up before her, she heard a knock on the glass door that separated her from the corridor.

“Excuse me, Miss.” A dainty little female voice was barely audible. “Is this seat taken?”

Eliza turned around to see a short, young woman, carrying a small bundle in her arms.

“Yes, yes, please come in,” Eliza replied happily. She expected to be alone, but company never hurt anyone. “Can I help you with that?” She pointed at the bundle the woman was squeezing.