Mail Order Bride- Twenty-Two Brides Mega Boxed Set

by Emily Woods

  But what was that plan?

  He’d talked with Timothy about the growing concern he had over Ruby’s desire for children. When his brother had suggested adoption, he’d nearly lost it. The fact of Ruby’s condition had all but guaranteed Adam’s worst nightmare—becoming a mean, angry father—wouldn’t come true. But there were still ways, things he hadn’t thought of.

  Again, Timothy had reminded him to trust in the Lord and, though that was all well and good, it didn’t mean his fears were erased.

  He closed his eyes and took in a deep, hay-scented breath. He was ruled by his fears and he hated it. He just wanted to show Ruby that he cared for her—maybe even loved her—but how could he do that if he couldn’t get over his own fears?

  The sound of footsteps drew his eyes open.

  “Ruby,” he said, surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you walk up the hill,” she said. “I thought I’d join you, unless you didn’t want the company.”

  He thought about saying no. He had come up here to talk to the Lord and get his heart straight, but the temptation to have Ruby sitting next to him in his favorite spot on all of the ranch was too much.

  “Not at all. Please, sit.”

  She took up space next to him and looked out, sharing his view. “It’s stunning.”

  “It is,” he said, dragging his eyes away from her profile before she knew he was talking about her.

  “I can see why you come up here.”

  He grinned. “It’s always been my favorite place. Gives me perspective.”

  “I could use some of that,” she said. Then she closed her mouth quickly as if she hadn’t meant to say that.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She flushed and avoided his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

  “I’m sure it’s not,” he said, keeping his voice light.

  A long moment passed between them and he had the feeling she was contemplating whether or not she’d say something. Then finally she let out a sigh.

  “I heard you. Last night.”

  He frowned, wondering what she could be talking about. “Heard me?”

  “You said you never wanted children.”

  He swallowed, but it felt like rocks were in his throat. “O-oh. You heard that.”

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise. I just happened to walk up when you were talking with Will. Is that really how you feel?”

  Her eyes, their depths seemingly bottomless, peered into his and made it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to lie to her, but she wouldn’t understand. Could she?

  “I feel that way, yes.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “You do.” Her words were more of a statement than a question.

  He grimaced and yanked his gaze back to the view. He had the urge to tell her—to share his anxiety with her—but he was also afraid. Afraid of what that would show her about him. Would she think he was the same type of man his father had been? Would she see his side of things—and what was worse, agree?

  Then he looked at her again. She had traveled all the way here without even the full promise of marriage from him and yet she trusted him. Trusted that he would do the right thing—whatever that was.

  She deserved the truth.

  “It’s all right,” she said, resting her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “No,” he said, almost too quickly. “I want to.”

  She turned her eyes to him and he saw compassion in them.

  Letting out a sigh, Adam looked to the valley again. “My—our—father wasn’t a good man.” He let the words hang in the air for a moment. “He succumbed to bouts of anger more often than I’d like to admit, and our mother suffered the worst of it. She tried her best to shield me from it, and eventually Will and Jack, but I was old enough to know things weren’t good.”

  “Oh my,” Ruby said, her tone soft.

  “I’m afraid.” He felt embarrassed the moment he said it. “Afraid that I’ll turn into him some day. Will wasn’t really old enough to see it, but I was. Things like that stick with a kid. I’m prone to anger myself, but…I think I’d never be like him but you can’t be sure.”

  “But you can,” she said, her voice imploring. “You don’t have to be anyone other than who you are, Adam.”

  He turned to look at her finally. She looked convinced, but he wasn’t. “No. Don't you see? Will’s a good father because he didn’t have our dad there to mess things up for him. I wasn’t so lucky.” He shoved himself to his feet. “I’m sorry. I… I wish it was simple, but I’m just not sure that it is.”

  8

  Adam stalked down the hill toward the house, leaving Ruby by herself. Why was he angry? He wasn’t exactly mad at her, but in a way he was. Couldn’t she see that his fears were valid?

  A wave of guilt washed over him. He shouldn’t have left her there.

  Pushing the back door open, he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Goodness me,” Viola said, looking up from a pot on the stove. “You’re going to give an old woman a conniption fit.”

  His anger still holding on, he didn’t join her in laughing.

  “What’s wrong, dearie?” she said, putting down the spoon and coming toward him. “You’ve got something on your mind, I can tell.”

  Everything inside of him resisted telling Viola, but she was one of the few people who had known him since he was a child.

  “I’ve done it again,” he said, hanging his head in shame. “I’ve let my fear and my anger overcome me. Why? Why do I do this, V?”

  She came toward him and grasped his arm. “You stop this right now and tell me what happened from the beginning. I’ve even got cookies to sweeten the deal.”

  Despite his frustration, the corners of his mouth turned up. “You think cookies fix everything.”

  “And don’t they?”

  She smiled and shoved him gently into a chair. Despite how he was feeling, especially after leaving Ruby up on the hill, he accepted the cookies and milk and poured out the story for the housekeeper who was more like a family member.

  When he was done, she nodded, munching thoughtfully on a cookie. “I see how you could feel like you won’t be a good father, but that’s pure nonsense.”

  He blinked at her blunt words.

  “Don’t you know by now that children are a combination of their surroundings? Dearie, you did the majority of your growing up with your mother and I as influences. And good ranch hands that cared about you and showed you the ropes of the ranch.”

  “But my father—”

  “Your father was a fool of a man, but you’re not him. Sure, you’ve got a temper, but so does every human. Just because you get mad sometimes doesn’t mean you’re going to turn into him. In fact, if I were a betting woman—which I am not—I would wager you’d have turned into him by now if you were going to. Adam,” she said, leaning forward and framing his face with her worn hands, “you’re a good man.”

  He leaned back and she let her hands fall. He wanted so badly to believe her, but he wasn’t sure…

  “I’ve got to go into town. I’ll be back before supper.”

  She nodded slowly and he turned to go.

  “Don’t let anyone but the Good Lord tell you who you are.” Her words caught him like an invisible hand on his shoulder, holding him in place for a few moments before he broke forward and pushed out the door.

  The ride into town went by quickly and soon he was tying up his horse outside of the church. His boots made stomping sounds as he walked up the steps and opened the door.

  The coolness inside the old, musty building was like a holy shroud descended on the place. He immediately felt peace to his core, but still his flesh fought it. He was here to talk with Timothy and to have him speak sense into his heart, but he was afraid that nothing would help. No words. No wisdom. Nothing earthly.

  Rather than go through and out the back door to where Timothy was no doubt in the garden again, he stopped and
sunk down onto the hard pew in the front row. His elbows poked into the top of his knees and he sunk his face into his hands, letting the stillness wash over him.

  Exhaling, he breathed in at the same time he lifted up a prayer.

  “God,” he said out loud, “I need help.”

  The silence answered him.

  His thoughts sent up the next words to the Lord.

  I’m afraid, Lord. I don’t know what to do. I want to marry Ruby, but she wants children, I don’t, and I don’t see a way around that.

  He waited, his thoughts too jumbled to know what he was really thinking. Did he truly not want children at all?

  An image of Simon laughing for the first time as Will made a face at him brought warmth to Adam’s chest. Then he saw an image of Ruby holding the child, her face practically glowing as she looked down at him, cooing softly as he slept. It was a beautiful sight and, deep down, he could admit it would be amazing to see her with her own children.

  But there were so many complications…

  What if I become him?

  A bitter taste seeped into his mouth at the very thought. He’d done everything possible in his life so that he would be nothing like his father, and yet the man’s specter still followed him like a shadow. But did that mean he was destined to be like his father? Or was that just ungodly fear?

  A peace pressed against him as he considered the possibility that it wasn’t up to him to know for sure what would become of his future, but it was up to him to trust.

  Trust in the Lord with all your heart…

  The verse came to him like he was back in Sunday school reciting it with the rest of the class. It was as true then as it was now. If he trusted in the Lord, his fears would be unfounded because it wouldn’t be in his own strength that he did anything, but the Lord’s.

  Tears pressed against his eyes just as the back door opened. “Adam?” His cousin came inside, dusting his hands off. “Is everything all right?”

  He looked up, a smile on his face. The first genuine smile he’d had in a long time. “I think it finally is.”

  Ruby sat alone on the hillside, her gaze unfocused on the distance. When Adam had left, everything inside of her ached to go after him, to make him see that there was no unwritten rule that he had to become like his father. She wanted him to believe that he wasn’t like that because she knew deep down that he wasn’t. But her words would mean nothing if he didn’t believe it for himself, in his heart.

  It was the hardest thing to stay up on the mountain and let his anger run its course, but she knew it would be better for them both. He needed to find peace the way the Lord would have him find it—not her way.

  Now, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, she wished she knew what Adam’s thoughts were. Where was he now? What was he doing?

  The sound of footsteps drew her attention down the hill where she saw Will making his way up toward her. At the sight of him, something clenched in her stomach. It wasn’t exactly fear, but more like apprehension. The way he had looked at her last night made her wonder what he thought of her. But that was foolish; he’d just lost his wife.

  “I saw Adam storm down the hill. Is everything all right?” She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t gone after him, but he interrupted her thoughts. “I was about to talk to him but he rode off to town before I got the chance.”

  Well, that answered her question.

  “I think he just…needed some time to himself.”

  Will took a seat next to her, but not too close, and turned his gaze out to the valley. “Adam has always loved this view. I do too, but I was able to leave, whereas I don’t think he’ll ever want to live anywhere but here.”

  She heard sadness in his tone and risked a glance at him. “You left?”

  “Oh yeah. Jack and I left nearly as soon as Jack was old enough to leave the house. He was—probably still is—a bit unruly. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man, just impulsive. We headed out further west trying to seek our fortune. I think at first, Jack was hoping for gold, but by the time we’d missed several days of meals, we figured being ranch hands was as good as we’d get.” Will laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t the life either of us had wanted, I don't think, but we made do.”

  “Why didn’t you come back to the ranch?”

  Will rubbed his chin, eyes still on the horizon. “For Jack, it was pride, but for me… Well, I met a girl.”

  Her heart constricted at the sound of loss in his voice.

  “I never did think that Cecilia and I would get married. She was the daughter of the mayor in the town Jack and I’d taken up residence in. She was so pretty and so full of spirit.” He shook his head and she saw the glimmer of tears still there. “You reminded me of her last night—just a little.” He sighed and rubbed his jaw again.

  “What happened?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

  “She got sick. I didn’t see it coming. We had a new baby boy and life was looking good. Her father had almost forgiven me for marrying her. Almost.” He laughed mirthlessly. “But then one day she was fine and the next, she was wasting away in our bed.” He turned to look at Ruby, the pain and sorrow still very present on his face.

  “I'm sorry, Will. No one should have to go through that.”

  “No, no one should, but they do.” He wiped under his eyes. “And that’s jut it, Ruby. Bad things happen but we keep going. God never promises an easy life, but He does promise to be there. Do you believe that?”

  She ground her teeth. She wanted to—almost did, even—but then she remembered her condition and wondered. Could God really still have a plan through it all?

  “I-I want to…”

  “But you don’t,” he said gently.

  “I don’t know. I just… I look at you and think how is it God’s plan for you to live without your beloved wife? Why am I destined to live without the blessing of children?” She cut off her words, shocked she’d admitted this to Will.

  “I knew already, Adam told me.”

  She nodded. It all made sense now. But if he knew, how could he be so sure about her future?

  “Look,” Will said, turning to face her, “I know it seems painful and unfair, but I firmly believe that though I loved Cecilia deeply, the Lord can still work all of this out for His good. I just have to have faith—to trust in Him.”

  She felt something inside of her slip, possibly the firm hold she’d had on her anger. “I want to believe that. I thought I’d made peace with the fact that I couldn’t have children, but now I’m not so sure that’s true.”

  “God gives and He takes away, but it’s never without purpose.”

  She wanted to ask what that purpose could possibly be, but then she thought of Adam. Of his fear of becoming a father. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the Lord had brought them together—the woman who couldn’t have children and the man who didn’t want them. And, as much as it pained her to admit, she’d do anything to make Adam happy, even if that meant never having children.

  “I think I’m beginning to see that.”

  Will smiled at her then got to his feet. “Don’t give up on my brother, Ruby. He’s a good man with a good, God-fearing heart. He’ll come around, I know it.”

  Ruby smiled and stood as well. “I know that too.”

  9

  That night, with the crickets chirping and the soft flutter of fish in the pond, Adam sat on the porch looking into the darkness. The scent of moist earth and the dim light shining out from the curtained windows created the perfect, peaceful atmosphere.

  When he’d come back from town he’d found Viola and Ruby in the midst of making dinner, laughing and joking like they’d known each other forever, and he’d hated to interrupt that. Still, the realization he’d had in the sanctuary begged to be shared with Ruby, but she had promised Will she would watch Simon and had gone off to put him to bed before Adam had worked up the courage to ask to speak with her.

  He’d retreated to his porch like a coward and was only now regrettin
g his lack of gumption. He knew that he wanted to talk with her, admit what he’d learned about their situation and about himself, but he wasn’t sure how to go about beginning that conversation.

  The screen door creaked and his gut clenched. If that were Ruby, it was about time for him to figure it all out.

  “May I sit?” she asked, her voice light and sweet.

  “Of course,” he said, glancing at her but finding her eyes shadowed by the nighttime.

  She sat and began rocking back and forth, a mug of peppermint tea warming her hands. The smell wafted toward him and reminded him of his mother. She had always loved peppermint tea as well. Caught in nostalgia, her words drew him back to the present.

  “You were gone a long time today.”

  He wondered if she had any idea about his true mood. He had been subdued at dinner, the bulk of his thoughts weighing down his mood, but now he was filling with a lightness he relished. The realization that he didn’t have to have all of the answers.

  “I was,” he admitted. He was wondering how to tell her. How could he explain the feeling of release he now had? There were so many emotions toppling over one another that he didn’t know where to begin.

  “Adam,” she said, her words tentative, testing, “about what you said on the hill…”

  “I was wrong,” he blurted. She remained quiet and he knew this was his chance. “I… I’m sorry. For what I said earlier.” He leaned forward, eyes drilling into the darkness where he knew the pond was. “I’ve been trapped by my fear.”

  The admission hung in the silence. He wasn’t sure what was worse, waiting for her to respond or the fear that she wouldn’t. He wanted to know what she thought, but at the same time, he was terrified of finding out. Terrified that he had ruined his chances with her.

  Would she be sitting out here with him if he had? Then again, maybe she’d come out to tell him she was leaving. He would deserve it after the way he’d acted.