Contents
Title Page
Description
Copyright
Prologue
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dear Reader
Also Available
About the Author
The Blacksmith’s Bride
Brides of Birch Creek
Book 1
(Formerly part of the Book Club series with a Fairy Godmother who could grant wishes)
A Golden Valley Story
By
Laura D. Bastian
Susan Hanson’s life is anything but normal. When her eccentric uncle leaves her a fortune, but tells her she must marry to inherit it, she looks at her options and hates the idea of choosing one of the stuffy men of her acquaintance. Especially since the only thing they would want her for is her money. If marriage is what it takes to get her fortune, Susan is determined to do it her own way.
Michael Clark has always wanted someone to call his own. First his parents, then his uncle and cousin die, leaving him without a solid place in the world. He’s welcomed by the good people of Birch Creek in the Idaho Territory, but he wants a family. Since women are hard to come by, he does the most logical thing he can. He orders a bride from New York.
When Susan decides to answer Michael’s advertisement, figuring it’s a better choice all around than what’s in New York for her, she’s certain it’s for the best. The first moment they meet, Michael and Susan know marriage is the next step but with her oddities, and his old fashioned views, can the two of them actually build a life together?
Copyright © 2020 by Laura D. Bastian.
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author.
Cover Design by Lange House Press
Prologue
Susan Hanson leaned against the winged back chair and looked at her uncle’s lawyer.
“What do you mean I’ll inherit some of Uncle Charles’ fortune?” She shook her head numbly for a moment. “I thought he had planned to donate it all to a university?”
Mr. Parker merely shrugged. “Your uncle has always done things his own way. He has established a fund for the university, but also wants to see you cared for.”
Susan smiled at the thought of her uncle. He had raised her since her parents passed years ago and was so kind and understanding with her. He’d allowed her all sorts of freedoms and hadn’t required she follow all the strict rules of the society they lived in. In fact, she had been more free with him than any other young lady of her acquaintance could ever hope to be.
The lawyer cleared his throat briefly. “He wants to talk to you first. He has indicated there will be some stipulations.”
“Of course,” Susan said softly, then trying to keep the somber news from depressing her further she added, “Uncle Charles will want to have one last chance to tease me.”
Susan looked out the window of her uncle’s study that faced the gardens. Even without Uncle Charles’ inheritance, she still had a decent dowry that her parents had left her. Yet she could only access that once she turned thirty, or earlier if she were to choose marriage. If only her father hadn’t been such a stickler to old traditions and had been a little more freethinking like her mother. At least a marriage wasn’t required. She would just have to wait for another five years from now.
She had never expected to receive any extra monetary gifts from her uncle at his passing. He’d promised she would have the use of his home and a very small staff with a yearly stipend to pay the bills and provide food and shelter until she was old enough to have access to her inheritance.
If he had changed his mind and planned to give her money instead, that would free her from the worry of needing to consider marriage in the next few years. Not that she was against the institution of marriage. She just preferred to consider her options and avoid the type of men who circled around her.
More than once she’d been told that the Hanson family was too odd for the upper crust of New York state. Money wasn’t everything, they’d said. It was more about what you did with that money. Having an independent and outspoken personality had been encouraged by her mother as well as her uncle, but the rest of society had thought she should blend in more. Wear the fancy clothes everyone else ordered from the finer shops supplied by London and Paris fashions.
Susan had wanted to study at the university. She’d wanted to travel to Europe, India, and Asia to study the cultures there, but instead she had found herself orphaned, then raised by her uncle who was too ill to travel, but the perfect guardian who allowed her to study what she wanted to, and didn’t force her to attend the fancy events she’d been required to endure since she had turned fifteen.
The door to the office opened and Susan smiled at the butler who met her eyes. “Your uncle will see you now.”
“Thank you, Harold.” Susan stood and walked to the door and into the dimly lit room where her Uncle Charles had been practically bedridden for the last month.
“Hello, Uncle.” Susan kept her voice low and calm, not wanting to burden him with the emotions that were warring deep within. She had come to love him as much as, or possibly even more than her own parents. It had been hard to accept the doctor’s prognosis that he wouldn’t recover from this latest illness, but she couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Susan, my dear child. It is time we talk seriously.”
Susan bit her lip and nodded, swallowing hard to try to force down the lump beginning to grow in her throat. He never wanted to be serious.
“There is no easy way to put this. I have debated over and over whether I should require this of you.”
“I’ll do anything you ask of me, Uncle Charles.” She took his hand in her own, careful to not hurt him with her touch. His papery thin skin felt cold in her grip.
“I’m afraid you won’t be happy with this. However, I’ve given it a lot of thought, and believe it is for the best.”
Susan looked into his tired eyes. Instead of the twinkle of humor or mischief she’d always seen inside, she saw concern and love. “What would you have me do?”
“I know we have always seen eye to eye on this subject. Matrimony for the sake of economic gain, or status or to impress others has been a ridiculous notion to both of us.”
Susan nodded, though she feared what he would say next.
“I still believe it is a foolish endeavor if pursued for those reasons. Yet with your mother’s marriage, I knew there was so much more between my dear sister and your father. It was never about posturing or gain or to be seen as better than others. Their union was one of love.”
Susan smiled at the memory of her parents. They had always been close and incredibly happy together.
“When I saw your inheritance from them had the stipulation of getting married to gain access to it, I thought that was such a stupid idea. Yet the more I have thought of what you will go thr
ough once I am gone, I believe marriage is an important next step.”
“What do you mean?” Susan asked.
“I will still keep my promise that you can live here while you adjust to your new circumstances, but after a six month mourning period, I’ll expect you to move on with your life. The house and all the furniture and possessions will be sold and the money given to the university. In order to be provided for, you’ll have to find yourself a husband.”
Susan had known it was coming, but it was still such a surprise that he would say it.
He reached for her hand and patted it. “I won’t force you to chose someone here that neither of us, nor your parents would have approved of. I do expect you to search for a potential spouse. You’ll have access to your parents’ inheritance for you once you wed, though it will be a few months before you can actually get the money from the bank. My dowry for you will be kept until a year after your marriage. Whatever man you chose must take you for who you are, not what money you’ll have. In order to be sure you won’t have any fortune hunters seeking you out, I’m going to still donate the bulk of my estate and fortune to the university.”
“As you should,” Susan said, patting his hand. “I know how important an education can be and making sure there are funds to provide for proper research is important.”
The remorse in his gaze tore at her, though she wished she didn’t have to accept his stipulation that she marry.
“I want you to find a man you can love. One who will treat you right and accept you for the incredible young woman you are.” Uncle Charles weakly squeezed her hand. “You deserve to be loved.”
“I have been loved, Uncle Charles.” Susan leaned close and spoke softly. “I have been the most fortunate girl in the world to have been raised by my wonderful parents, and then by you. You have done so much for me.”
“That is why I want you to promise me you’ll look for the right man for you.”
His desperation was strong enough Susan was certain she could feel it pulsing out from him.
“I will look for the right man,” Susan said after a moment. “I’ll search for someone who makes me smile the way you always did. For someone who is a kind man and treats others well. For someone who is respected by those he knows, and one that will make me believe anything is possible.”
“Thank you, Susan,” Uncle Charles said. “I do hope someday you’ll forgive me.”
“I could never hold this against you, Uncle Charles. Besides, you are doing me a great service. Giving most of your money away will keep the men of New York from trying to win my hand.”
Uncle Charles wheezed as he laughed, easing Susan’s heart and causing her to worry at the same time. At least he still had his sense of humor.
CHAPTER ONE
Michael took off the heavy leather apron he wore to protect himself from the flying sparks while he worked the iron in his smithy. He hung the apron on the peg by the door and doubled checked the coals in the forge. Once he was certain the fire was banked for the night and would be easy enough to coax to life when he returned in the early morning, he left his shop and walked the quarter mile to his home. It wasn’t much of a place and could really use some work, but he was alone and rarely spent time there unless it was to sleep.
Most of his time was spent at the shop, hoping to catch any work anyone needed of him. He’d been fortunate to find a spot close to the train station and near enough to the roadway that people passing through on horse or wagon could find him easy enough to take care of their horse shoeing and any other job they needed iron work for.
People were still heading out west to find a better life and the small settlement in the Idaho territory was a good place to be. He’d followed his Uncle Henry and cousin Brett since they had been his only remaining family after his parents died of influenza back east when he was a kid. Uncle Henry had heard of all the gold that everyone was finding in California and Oregon and he’d packed up Brett and Michael with some gear and set off. They’d made it as far as Idaho before his uncle and cousin had gotten sick and just like that he was alone in the world.
Michael had been found by a small band of the Shoshone tribe. They kept him alive and brought him to this settlement and left him on the doorstep of one of the families there.
The people in Birch Creek had done all they could to care for him, but it was hard to provide for a family, let alone take in an extra mouth, so Michael had been passed around from household to household doing little things to earn his keep and in a way becoming part of everyone’s family and no one’s family at the same time. When the old blacksmith, Thomas, had begun to have health troubles, he’d taken Michael on as an apprentice, which gave him the skills he now had. Eventually Thomas decided to try to make it rich panning for gold and had left Michael the smithy to carry on the work.
As Michael studied his small place, an incredible ache built up in his chest. He wanted to belong to someone. To have something to look forward to each day. Something like what he remembered his parents had before they’d died. His thoughts then returned to the conversation he’d had with a couple passing through not long ago. They had stayed to chat with him while he worked on shoeing their horse. Their wagon was loaded with supplies they would need for the new farmstead they would be starting.
In the course of the conversation, he’d noticed her accent was much different than what he’d heard around the area lately. It had reminded him a lot of what Boston had sounded like. When he asked what had brought her west, she’d blushed then explained she had answered her new husband’s advertisement for a bride.
The idea that sending a request for a woman to move out west and marry a stranger had seemed unbelievable at first, but the more they explained it, and how it had been going on for years in many places, the more he wondered if it would be something he’d ever dare do.
And now that he stared at his own barren home, he knew in his heart he was going to send his own advertisement. What would it hurt? He would go to the small telegraph station in the morning and see if they had any information about it.
***
Uncle Charles had been laid to rest two months ago and the mourning period was well underway. When her parents had passed, Susan had hated the thought of remaining indoors and wearing black all the time. Now, with her Uncle Charles gone, and the pity of the neighborhood, Susan was actually relieved to follow the accepted protocol of remaining out of the public eye.
She had spent her time in her uncle’s home and when the weather improved, she walked the flower gardens and even got involved in some of the planting herself.
She spent a lot of time in his library, reading his books and the newspapers that were regularly delivered. Uncle Charles had always insisted that she be well read and knowledgeable about what was going on in the world.
Susan sat down in her uncle’s favorite chair and picked up the paper that the butler had left on the small table to the side.
A happy memory of her uncle sitting right there reading soon led to the memory of when she’d picked up the paper after his passing. She’d smiled at the wording of the death announcement for her uncle. He’d been sure to write it up himself and had his lawyer submit it to the paper. No one would be coming to her hoping to earn her trust, and therefore her admiration and eventual acceptance of a ridiculous offer of marriage.
She was considered penniless by everyone on the outside, and Susan was just fine with that. It gave her the time she needed to come to terms with her loss and to consider her future options.
Not ready to really consider her promise that she would look for a husband, Susan opened the newspaper and began to read. She read the first few pages, then growing tired of the main articles, she turned the page. The section for advertisements caught her eye and she looked closer.
Some buildings and office rooms to let, and one place mentioned the services their company provided. A few job offers were posted, mostly factory and assembly work.
One of the servants tha
t had worked for her uncle had taken a job at the clothing factory recently. Susan hoped Annabelle would be happy there. She wished it would have been possible to keep Annabelle on as part of the small staff Uncle Charles had allowed her, but that would have raised questions about how she paid all those expenses. There would be no reason for Annabelle to remain here since Susan wouldn’t be needing any new dresses sewn while in mourning. Yet Annabelle had been such a sweet and kind girl that Susan wished it were possible to keep in contact with her.
Just as she was about to flip to another page, a word caught her attention.
Bride.
Susan pulled the paper closer to her. Was there actually such a need for women out west that the men there had to put in an advertisement for it?
The details intrigued Susan. This man seemed well written, so at least he knew how to communicate. Unless he’d had someone help him with that.
He had a job running the blacksmith’s shop for the town and the surrounding areas. He even owned a little plot of land and had a house as well.
Susan set the paper down on her lap. She looked up at the ceiling as she contemplated that option. Could she dare do something so strange? Why would any woman in their right mind go marry a man they had never met? Then again, why would any woman marry a man that was only after her for her money, and there had been plenty of her social status who had done that.
Susan looked at the advertisement again. Beneath the requirements, there was a return address. It wouldn’t hurt Susan to send him a letter of inquiry. If he’d found someone already, then that was that. Writing for more information would allow her to look at different options. Besides, she’d promised her uncle she would at least look for a husband.
Why not start now by looking far from home?
The Blacksmith's Bride: A Golden Valley Story (The Brides of Birch Creek Book 1) Page 1
