A Bride to Heal His Broken Heart

by Melynda Carlyle

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Melynda Carlyle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Copyright

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  A Bride to Heal his Broken Heart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  The Extended Epilogue

  A Thank You Note to Starfall Publications

  About Melynda Carlyle

  A Bride to Heal his Broken Heart

  Chapter 1

  Lorna MacPherson looked out the window of the train as the purser came through the railcar to wake up those who had fallen asleep. The man’s dark suit with gold trim and a dark cap to match were a welcome sight. The trip had been lengthy, and the last leg had felt like it would never end. Lorna knew it was only because the closer they got to their destination, the more nervous she was becoming.

  They were approaching Virginia City, Nevada, and Lorna felt her heart beat a little faster as she realized she would soon be meeting Mark Wilson, her husband-to-be. Lorna Wilson – that would be her new name in less than an hour.

  Lorna was embarking on a new life for herself; an unorthodox beginning was about to take place. Lorna was a mail-order bride, arriving in a strange town to meet a total stranger and marry him before they left for his ranch.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach to calm the butterflies, which were buzzing more like angry bees at the moment over the realization that no matter what she discovered once she disembarked from the train, she was committed to marrying a man she’d never met.

  A little over a month ago, she’d still been grieving her father’s death at the hands of the Indians. The war was still ongoing, but her part in it had come to an abrupt end. Disillusioned by the betrayal of a man she’d thought she could trust, and grieving her only remaining relative, Lorna had come across a mail-order bride advertisement and felt a small glimmer of hope.

  She’d seen the ad as a chance to leave behind everything that was making her sad and to start anew. With no prospects for a brighter future on her horizon, she’d answered the ad, not really expecting much in the way of a reply. She’d been wrong.

  Mr. Mark Wilson of Virginia City, Nevada, had written back to her almost immediately, and the two had started up a letter exchange that had resulted in Mark sending her a train ticket only five weeks later. Five weeks. Lorna was still amazed at how quickly her life had changed in such a small amount of time. Just over a month had passed and here she was, getting ready to change her name and take on a life she could imagine only from Mark’s letters.

  His letters were what had intrigued her. They described the ranch he owned and the people and land surrounding Virginia City. Lorna had known she needed to see them in person. When Mark suggested just that, Lorna had wasted no time in packing up her belongings and getting ready to set course for a new beginning.

  Born in Scotland, Lorna and her parents had immigrated to the Americas and had been living in Nova Scotia prior to the beginning of the American Civil War. Her mother had succumbed to a fever only a year after settling in this new place, leaving both Lorna and her father adrift. When her father had enlisted to help the Union Army, Lorna had tried to do the same, but was repeatedly denied the opportunity to become a nurse.

  The excuses were plentiful and mostly centered around her young age or her beauty. At the age of twenty-four, she’d never considered herself anything of the sort. Her figure was pear shaped and she guessed more appealing than some others, although she’d never subscribed to vanity like some other women did.

  Her long, curly, auburn hair was easy enough to care for, but she mostly kept it braided or twisted up in a bun and covered by a bonnet. She made sure to keep her hair confined whilst trying to obtain a nursing position with the military, but it hadn’t seemed to matter. She’d still been turned away.

  Lorna personally hadn’t seen what either her looks or her age had to do with her ability to act as a nurse, and she had continued to try and be appointed to one of the medical tents.

  She had finally been successful, only to be on duty when they brought her father in with an arrow sticking out of his abdomen. She shivered as she relived that moment in her mind. Seeing her father’s face contorted in pain, the feathers on the arrow rising above his blood-soaked abdomen…She’d tried valiantly to save him, but he died right there on the table. She had developed an intense hatred for the Indians from that time forward.

  “We’re here,” the purser stated as he came back through the railcar, disrupting her mental meanderings. Lorna blew out a breath and then squared her shoulders and retrieved the carpet bag she’d pushed beneath the seat. She took a moment and attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of her emerald-green dress.

  It was her best dress and she’d written to Mark telling him she would be wearing it so that he could easily spot her when she got off the train. It was unbearably wrinkled and only a good washing and the application of a hot iron would make a difference.

  Since she had neither, she gave up her task and hoped her hair was still secured appropriately beneath her bonnet. She truly wished she could be afforded a chance to freshen up before meeting the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with, but that was not to be.

  The train was slowly coming to a stop and the sound of the brakes being applied and the wheels scraping along the metal rails sent an unpleasant shiver up Lorna’s spine. She clenched her fists until the noise abated and then blew out the breath she’d been holding. She stepped out into the aisle. Already, people were making for the doorway and she found herself carried along with them.

  “This is for the best,” she told herself, needing to hear the words as she struggled to keep her anxiety at bay. She slowed her steps as she neared the exit.

  “Did you say something, miss?” the purser asked as Lorna stopped in the doorway.

  Lorna looked up and gave him a smile and shake of her head. “No, I was just giving myself a little encouragement.”

  “Very good. Watch your step and enjoy your stay in Virginia City,” he told her with a smile.

&
nbsp; “Thank you,” Lorna said, carefully navigating the narrow steps and then landing on the wooden planks of the station platform. She tightened her grip on the carpet bag and then moved further onto the platform, her eyes peeled for the man she’d never met before.

  She hoped that Mark would arrive shortly. Her bag was heavy and cumbersome, and she hoped he might offer to carry it for her. Everything she’d learned about him from his letters spoke of him being a gentleman.

  Moving around so much in her youth, Lorna didn’t have many belongings and had managed to pack everything she wanted to take into her new life with her in a single bag. The only items of true value she had, besides a few of her father’s books, were the silver candlesticks her mother had brought from Scotland. They’d been in Lorna’s family for five generations, and though they were heavy and cumbersome, she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of leaving them behind. They now lay in the bottom of her carpet bag, surrounded by her unmentionables. She hoped they would soon grace the mantle of the hearth in her new home – a symbol from the past to remind her of where she came from.

  She managed to carry her bag about twenty feet and then set it down, looking around the train station and frowning when she realized she was the only one left. She tried not to be irritated with Mark’s lack of punctuality, and she carried her bag over to a wooden bench and sat down. After all, today was to be her wedding day, and she didn’t relish the idea of starting her marriage off vexed with her husband.

  Lorna sat there for a few minutes, her mind spinning as she contemplated the reality that maybe Mark had changed his mind and his letter stating such hadn’t reached her before she’d embarked on this journey. She allowed her mind to travel down that path for only a few seconds.

  She discarded that idea, thinking back to how eager and excited Mark had sounded in his letters. They had so much in common, and she just couldn’t reconcile her present doubts with the belief that had sent her across the country. No, Mark wanted her to come here, and she simply needed to be patient and understanding when he finally arrived. She was confident he had a good excuse for his tardiness.

  She stood up, deciding she needed to take some sort of action. She picked up her carpet bag and then frowned when she realized the sun was beginning to set. She definitely did not want to spend the night on the train platform all alone.

  She reached the steps of the platform and looked toward the town spread out in front of her. She made her way to the wooden boardwalk, hoping that she would somehow see a man hurrying toward the train station in hopes of retrieving her.

  When she saw no one matching the description he’d given of himself – dark brown hair, green eyes, and several inches taller than her 5’5” stature with a small beard – she decided she would need to ask around for him.

  There was a general store to her right, and she turned her feet in that direction. In her experience, a general store was a good place for finding out information on anyone connected to a town. Everyone needed to visit at some point and their purchases often gave way to conversations about life and how things were going. Mark had told her Virginia City was a very small, close-knit town, which meant the owners of the local general store would most likely be aware of everything that was happening in and around the town.

  She crossed the dusty street, her arms burning from carrying the heavy carpet bag along with her, and was just getting ready to step back up onto the boardwalk when suddenly, the sound of gunshots rent the air and she swung around to see five men on horseback racing down the center of the dirt street.

  They were spinning their horses in circles, waving their pistols around, and hollering back and forth to one another. The air was filled with dust, and the men seemed to take delight in making the townsfolk fearful.

  People were scurrying to get out of their way, pressing themselves against the buildings or hurrying inside the first available doorway. Lorna stood frozen at the edge of the street, her mind flashing back to the war as fear flowed through her veins.

  The gunshots. Dust. Sounds of men screaming. She was no longer in Virginia City, but on the battle fields of—

  “Child, get down!” Lorna felt herself physically pulled down behind a wagon in front of her.

  Forcing herself to stay in the present, she glanced at her rescuer and saw an older woman looking out from behind the wagon at the gunmen. “What’s happening?” Lorna asked quietly.

  The woman gave her a mournful look. “Those men are outlaws. You’re not from around here.”

  Lorna shook her head. “I just arrived on the train.”

  “This town…well, our sheriff is going blind lately. He’s getting useless and everyone knows it.”

  Lorna looked back to where the five men were still circling their horses around in the center of the street, shooting their guns into the air and acting foolish. “The sheriff doesn’t do anything to stop this type of behavior?”

  “He’s completely worthless,” the older woman told her. “Just yesterday this town lost one of our very own: a good man who had his entire life stretched out before him. Those men stole that from him.” The woman’s voice caught as she finished her explanation. Lorna could tell how much this incident had hurt her.

  “I’m sorry,” Lorna whispered, seeing the sorrow etched on the woman’s face. She started to say more, but the five gunmen had headed out the other end of the street, and people were slowly beginning to mill around once more. A very unkempt younger gentleman rushed across the street, stopping in front of the older woman.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her companion. He reached down and helped her to her feet and then stood protectively over her while she dusted the dirt from her dress.

  Lorna was glad the woman had someone looking out for her and she gave both of them a soft smile. “Thank you for saving me,” she told the woman.

  “You’ll be more careful next time,” the woman informed her. A statement, not a question.

  Lorna nodded, hoping there wouldn’t be a next time. Turning her thoughts back to her mission prior to all of the commotion, she asked, “I was actually hoping to find someone. Do either of you know of a Mr. Mark Wilson?”

  Both the elderly woman and her companion turned their heads sharply as Lorna finished speaking. Lorna looked between the two of them and then offered an explanation, fearing that they might be taking her interest in finding Mark the wrong way.

  “Uhm…I was expecting Mr. Wilson to meet me at the train station. I wrote him of my arrival, but he wasn’t there.”

  “What business do you have with Mark Wilson?” the younger man asked, his voice deceptively soft.

  Lorna smiled softly and then offered, “I’m his mail-order bride. Lorna MacPherson.”

  The older lady glanced at her companion and then gave Lorna a sad look. She took a bracing breath and then forced her spine a bit straighter before introducing herself. “I’m June Wilson. Mark’s aunt. This is Ethan York.”

  Lorna smiled. “Oh! I’m sorry. Were you coming to meet me? Was Mark detained?”

  June gave her a sad smile and then nodded at the younger man. “We’d be more than happy to take you back to the ranch.” June looked at the younger man and gestured toward the supplies he’d dropped in his haste. “Stow that stuff in the back of the wagon and let’s get out of here.”

  The young man hurried to do June’s bidding while she pointed to the wagon. “Climb on up and we’ll get underway.”

  Lorna was so relieved to have met someone who knew where Mark was that she didn’t spend too much time thinking about the sadness on the woman’s face. She retrieved her carpet bag and with June’s help, was able to get it into the back of the wagon before climbing in herself.

  Lorna’s excitement about meeting Mark resurfaced and she spent her time dreaming about the future as the wagon headed toward the place that she was now going to be calling home. This was a definite change in plans, and she worried only a tiny bit about how they would be getting married without a lawman, preacher,
or justice of the peace around to perform the ceremony.

  Maybe we’ll just have to ride back into town tomorrow and say our vows. For tonight, we can just get to know one another and I can bed down in the kitchen or next to the fire for the night.

  The journey from town took some time and Lorna used it to mentally lecture herself on being pleasant and letting go of the fact that Mark hadn’t been there to meet her. I’m a biddable, pleasant, happy bride. I can forgive him for not being there to meet me. I’m sure he has a good excuse. Maybe a sick cow? He does have a ranch to run, after all.

  In the end, everything was working out fine, although she could have done without the outlaws and their antics. That small incident had sent her thoughts backward to her time amidst the fighting and the horrors and fears she’d dealt with. Those were definitely not times she wished to remember, and she forced her thoughts to the present and future days ahead.

  The wagon finally reached its destination and Lorna watched as a farmhouse came into view. There was a wide veranda that spanned the entire front of the house, circling around both sides. The two story, white clapboard house looked inviting, and Lorna tried to contain her excitement, not sure if this was to be her new domain, or if Mark had a house of his own that she would be taking charge of.

  She knew he lived with his father and brother, and now an older aunt. She couldn’t recall if he’d mentioned any other family members living at the ranch. She pasted a smile upon her face, happy to have reached the end of her journey.