Mail Order Bride- Twenty-Two Brides Mega Boxed Set

by Emily Woods

  Michael chuckled as he broke away from Hilda and bent down to address his daughter. “Well, Kristina! It is so good to see you, my precious daughter! Now, tell me, what have you and your brothers been doing in here with Hilda?”

  Kristina shook her head at her father. “It’s not Hilda, Papa. Her name is Mama, now.”

  Michael’s jaw dropped. He looked up at Hilda, and she nodded at him, tears welling in her green eyes.

  “Our new Mama saved me,” Johnny explained to his father as he joined the family embrace. “I became very sick in the middle of the night, and our new Mama cared for me. She and Kristina stayed up all night, Papa! They prayed for me, and they took care of me, and my new Mama never was frightened, even when I threw up black liquids!”

  Hilda shook her head. “I was frightened,” she told her husband as she looked at Johnny’s now-healthy countenance. “He was terribly ill, Michael, and Carol was off that night. I had no choice but to take care of him, and Kristina was my helper! We nursed Johnny back to health, and now, he’s happy and healthy again.”

  Michael pulled his son into his arms. “I am so relieved that you are well now, son,” Michael told his son as he hugged him. “I’m terribly sorry that I was away while you were unwell, son. Thank goodness that Hilda was here to tend to you!”

  “Her name isn’t Hilda anymore, Papa,” Kristina repeated to her father. “She is our new Mama. We love her, Papa, and she is our new Mama!”

  Michael’s dark eyes widened, and he again looked to his wife for confirmation of this development. Hilda nodded, and Michael’s heart filled with joy. He said a brief prayer of thanks, savoring the realization that by the grace of God, his broken family was finally making its way back to happiness. Michael leaned over to kiss his wife, and Hilda beamed back at him.

  “Papa kiss Mama!” Francis giggled as he toddled over to where his family stood.

  Michael scooped up his youngest child and gestured for his other children to gather. The Copper family embraced, all giggling and smiling as they held each other close.

  “I love each and every one of you,” Michael told his family as they squeezed together. “I love my family. I love my sons, my daughter, and my beautiful wife. Thank the Lord for sending us such a wonderful new Mama, and thank the Lord for saving my son!”

  Hilda kissed each child on the head, and then, she turned to smile at her husband. “I love you,” Hilda whispered to Michael as the children squealed in delight. “Thank you for making me a part of your family, Michael Copper. This family is everything I ever wanted, and it’s only by the grace of the Lord that I am here with you all today!”

  Michael nodded. “We are a blessed family,” he declared as he tickled his children. “May the Lord keep us in love and happiness forever, my love! May He watch over us, and may He keep us all living in joy.”

  Blind Love

  A Family to Love, Book 1

  1

  Betha O’Connor was certainly not the beauty of the O’Connor daughters, but she was the favorite of the O’Connor children. Her figure was perfect, and her green eyes were bright. Her pale, alabaster skin was covered in constellations of tiny, light brown freckles, and her long, curly raven-colored hair was perpetually unruly. While her manners were impeccable, thanks to her strict mother, Betha was high-spirited and filled with life.

  “You are my wild Irish rose,” Mr. O’Connor would lovingly say to his youngest child as she galloped around the house as a young girl.

  “Best of luck to the lad who tries to tame my wild Irish rose someday!” Mrs. O’Connor would say, her strong Irish lilt mixed with both amusement and the slightest trace of concern.

  While Betha did not inherit the exquisite beauty of her mother, she possessed the scrappy tenacity of her beloved father. Betha was the most resourceful of the O’Connor children, and this trait served her well during her childhood in County Cork, Ireland. The country was in utter turmoil during Betha’ childhood. The Great Famine in Ireland had left thousands of people without food, but while Betha’s family was severely impacted by the scarcity of resources, they managed to survive the famine long enough to procure their tickets to America.

  The O’Connor family left Ireland on a rainy Wednesday morning and never returned. Betha had been only twelve during their voyage across the Atlantic, but while her siblings suffered from seasickness, Betha was strong and healthy during the trip. Betha would often sneak into the galley to chat with the cooks; her amiable nature won the hearts of the ship’s crew, and she was often give scraps of food to take back to her ailing brothers and sisters.

  “I worry about our other children, Mairead, but I never worry about our Betha,” Mr. O’Connor whispered to his wife on a particularly rough night at sea.

  “Our Betha is unshakeable,” Mrs. O’Connor confirmed with relief, watching her youngest child sleep peacefully below her as the rest of the O’Connor children shrieked and moaned with the tossing and turning of the ship.

  The O’Connor family arrived in Boston on a sunny winter morning. The city possessed a large community of Irish immigrants, and the O’Connors happily settled into a shared flat in a shabby tenement. The flat was dirty and cramped. The O’Connors occupied two rooms and shared the rest of the flat with a noisy family from County Clare, but there was plenty of food to purchase in the markets, jobs to be worked, and an abundance of opportunities for the family to thrive in Boston.

  “It’s certainly different than home,” Mr. O’Connor solemnly said to his brood on their first night in the tiny apartment.

  “We may no longer have our house or our things here, but we are together, and we are alive. Not many Irish families have the blessing of saying those words, children. Now, let us pray together. Let us pray for ourselves and our new life in America, and let us pray for our poor kin back in Ireland…”

  The O’Connor family settled into their new life with ease. Mr. O’Connor got work as a steward in the household of a wealthy Irish-American family, and Mrs. O’Connor took in work as a seamstress. Betha’s brothers and sisters found work in various shops and households across the city, and Betha was enrolled in a modest public school down the street from the tenement building. Everyone did their part to contribute to the family’s success; Mr. O’Connor worked his way up from the steward of the household to the head butler, Mrs. O’Connor’s clients came back to her for more, and slowly, but surely, the O’Connor siblings married and left home.

  After five years in America, Betha was the only O’Connor child left in the small shared apartment. Betha was seventeen years old, and she felt herself approaching the precipice of something. She had graduated from high school—the only person in her family to accomplish such a feat—but she did not know what her future entailed. She was interested in taking a course to become a schoolteacher; Betha was bright, and she relished the prospect of a job that would allow her to share her passion for learning with others. Her parents, however, had other thoughts for her future. One evening, Betha returned home after a long walk in Highland Park, to find her parents sitting together at the kitchen table. Mrs. O’Connor’s eyes were sparkling with excitement, and Mr. O’Connor rose from the table as soon as Betha stepped into the kitchen.

  “Betha, my dear! We have some exciting news for you!” Mr. O’Connor said excitedly as his dark-haired daughter entered the room.

  “What is it, Da?” Betha asked, a confused look on her face. “Is it Katie? Have the babies been born?” Betha asked, thinking perhaps her pregnant older sister had gone into labor.

  “No, sweet Betha. The twins have not arrived yet!” Mrs. O’Connor said, her thick, melodic Irish accent sounding stronger than ever as her voice bubbled with enthusiasm.

  “What is it? Ma? Da? What is going on?”

  Betha took a seat at the shabby wooden table and folded her hands. Her father sat back down, and her mother placed a hand on Betha’s.

  “Sean Flanagan has expressed interest in you, Betha!” Mrs. O’Connor said giddily, a smile
covering her beautiful face.

  “His father, Mister Flanagan, talked with us after church yesterday! Sean would like our permission to court you, Betha!” Mr. O’Connor exclaimed.

  Betha leaned back in her chair. She folded her arms across her chest and wrinkled her nose. Sean Flanagan was the son of Michael Flanagan, one of the most beloved figures in the Irish immigrant community. Michael Flanagan had arrived in America as a penniless orphan and had worked his way up to a job on the Boston police force! His story was one of bravery, hard work, and eventual success, and Betha knew how much her father revered Michael Flanagan.

  It would be considered a great honor to have the attention of the first-born Flanagan son, Sean, and Betha felt her stomach churn with both excitement and nervousness as she considered her parents’ announcement. Sean was an attractive fellow and a highly sought-after bachelor. He was witty and bold, and every girl in the community knew of him.

  “Sweetheart?” Mr. O’Connor with asked with concern as Betha furrowed her brow.

  “Deary?” Mrs. O’Connor chimed in, squeezing her daughter’s small hands.

  “I’m sorry, Ma, Dad,” Betha replied. “This is huge news. I am tryin’ to take it all in! Sean Flanagan is interested in me?”

  “Yes!” Mrs. O’Connor answered gleefully.

  “Mister Flanagan was born in County Cork! His grandparents were friends with your grandparents, and he hopes that his son will marry a girl with roots in County Cork! Sean noticed you at church and thinks you’re a pretty one, and Mister Flanagan mentioned that his son enjoys your spirit as well!”

  Betha was stunned. Sean Flanagan was interested in her! The pair had attended the same parish for years; they had even been in Sunday school classes together as young adolescents, always friendly to each other, but Betha never considered that Sean would take a romantic interest in her.

  “What do you think, darlin’?” Mr. O’Connor said, his green eyes dancing as he sat across from his youngest daughter.

  “This could be the beginning of a very happy, comfortable life for you, deary!” Mrs. O’Connor mentioned dreamily.

  “If you married Sean Flanagan, you would never want for anything. Rumor is that Mister Flanagan will be appointed Chief of Police in the next few years, and the Flanagan family would take such good care of you!” Mr. O’Connor exclaimed.

  Mrs. O’Connor glanced around the shabby tenement flat.

  “If you were a Flanagan, your children would never have to grow up like you did,” Mrs. O’Connor said, her voice tinged with sadness.

  Betha was overcome with emotion. Her childhood in Ireland had been carefree; the O’Connor’s house was spacious and filled with joy and love. While their life in America was far more humble, Betha’s memories in the shabby apartment were of laughter around the dinner table, dancing with her siblings in the kitchen, and joyful times spent with her family and friends.

  “Ma,” Betha replied softly. “I grew up rich in love and rich in joy. No matter who I marry someday, I will always be filled with gratitude to both of you and to the Lord for my lovely life.”

  Mrs. O’Connor’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned in and kissed her youngest child on the forehead.

  “You are a good girl, Betha,” Mrs. O’Connor whispered.

  “You will make someone a lucky fellow someday,” Mr. O’Connor confirmed.

  The next Sunday, Mrs. O’Connor helped Betha prepare for church. The O’Connors would be sharing a formal lunch with the Flanagan family after the service, and Betha could sense the urgency in her mother’s voice as Mrs. O’Connor helped her get ready.

  “Wear the green dress, Betha!” Mrs. O’Connor insisted as she brushed out her daughter’s thick, curly locks. “It brings out the green in your eyes!”

  Betha nodded and slipped into her mint green frock. It was a beautiful dress; it had belonged to Mary, her eldest sister, but their mother had fixed it up for Betha for her sixteenth birthday. The pale green brought out the color in Betha’s eyes and glowed against her alabaster skin.

  “There,” Mrs. O’Connor said, pleased with her handiwork as Betha stared at her reflection in the long hallway mirror.

  “You look like a true Irish princess! Your dark hair looks just lovely with that dress, deary,” Mrs. O’Connor cooed.

  “Irish princesses don’t have freckles, Ma,” Betha said dismissively as she studied herself.

  “Those freckles are the marks of the angels, my dear,” Mrs. O’Connor said sternly as Betha frowned. “My mother had those freckles, and her mother had those freckles, and her mother had those freckles! You are the only O’Connor girl to carry on the freckles of your ancestors, sweet girl, and you should do it proudly! We Irish women should be proud of our heritage, and I won’t stand for you dismissing yours! You may not have a clear face or the straight hair of your sisters, but you are pretty in your own right, my child.”

  Betha smiled at her mother. Her heart swelled with the love in her mother’s words.

  “I love you, Ma,” Betha said, turning to embrace her mother.

  “I love you too, deary,” Mrs. O’Connor replied. “Don’t hug too tightly! You will ruin your pretty hair! This is a big day for you, girl!”

  The lunch at the Flanagan house went well; Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan were more than welcoming to the O’Connor family, and Sean looked quite handsome in his Sunday best. After the families had shared their meal, Sean asked Mr. O’Connor to speak privately. As her father and Sean excused themselves from the Flanagans’ parlor, Betha felt her body tingle in anticipation of what would come next.

  The two men returned only ten minutes later. Mr. O’Connor beamed as he stepped in the parlor, and he shook Mr. Flanagan’s hand. Sean was smiling as well, and he sauntered across the room to stand before Betha and her mother.

  “Missus O’Connor? May I please have the pleasure of conversing with your daughter in private?”

  Mrs. O’Connor blushed. Sean’s American accent was charming; he was the only American-born in the room, and Mrs. O’Connor could hardly contain her happiness. She nodded emphatically.

  “Betha? Would you talk with me?” Sean asked, extending a hand to Betha.

  Betha nodded politely. She took Sean’s hand, and he threaded her arm through his as he escorted her out of the parlor and into the small library adjacent to the parlor.

  “Betha,” Sean began as he closed the library doors. “I’m sure you know why my family invited yours to lunch today.”

  Betha nodded.

  “Our fathers have spoken, as I am sure you know. I have asked your father for permission to court you, Betha. You have graduated from high school, and with my father’s position in the community, I will need an educated Irish woman by my side as we continue to advance in this city. You are a good girl. I have known you for several years, and I have always been amused by your wit and your charm. You are also from County Cork, as is my father, and I know it is his hope that my future wife is of County Cork. I hope to pursue you with the intention of a marriage, Betha, and I hope you will accept this offer.”

  Betha’s hands shook as she sat in the library. She had suspected this conversation would occur today, but she had no idea just how serious Sean was about her. He had mentioned marriage!

  “Betha?”

  Betha looked in Sean’s hazel eyes. With his tall stature, broad shoulders, and bright red hair, he was undeniably attractive, and Betha could not believe her good fortune.

  “Sean, your words are a great honor,” Betha began, her hands still trembling. “I would gladly accept your proposal of a courtship,” she said, her face breaking into a smile as Sean grinned at her.

  “Wonderful! My father will be thrilled! I am a happy man myself, Betha!” Sean replied.

  The smiling couple returned to the parlor. Their parents looked pleased as Sean announced the courtship, and Betha felt relief flood her chest as she watched a happy tear fall from her mother’s large eyes. Betha knew her parents’ financial situation was precar
ious—her schooling had been expensive, and they had paid for five weddings over the last three years. Betha often heard her parents whispering together in the evenings, and once, she had overheard a conversation that had turned her blood to ice.

  “If we both eat just a bit less, we can afford enough food to keep Betha healthy,” Mrs. O’Connor had whispered to her husband.

  “We must make sure she stays well. We can give up just a little bit more! Times are hard, but we can get through them,” Mr. O’Connor had affirmed.

  Betha was devastated. Her parents were eating less so that she could have just enough. Betha felt like a burden for them, and she was eager to relieve them of caring for her once she was married.

  The courtship was enjoyable, and Betha looked forward to attending Saturday night dances with Sean, followed by lunch with his family after church each Sunday. Sean was light-hearted and funny, and Betha was never bored with him. Sean told her jokes and brought her flowers, and Betha felt herself developing strong feelings for him.

  “Look at those curls! You look like a dark-haired lion!” Sean would tease Betha as he picked her up from her flat on Saturday evenings.

  “Well, Sean Flanagan, with that red hair of yours, you look like a true Irish leprechaun!” Betha would tease back, her Irish accent making her words even more playful.

  The two got along well, and Betha sensed that a marriage proposal was coming soon. Her mother had been consumed with sewing a modest trousseau for Betha, and Betha could see that Mrs. O’Connor had begun sewing with increased urgency over the last two weeks. Mr. O’Connor was working longer hours, and Betha wondered if perhaps he knew a wedding was on the horizon and was saving money in anticipation.

  Exactly two months after their courtship began, however, everything changed just as quickly as it had begun. On a dark, chilly Saturday morning, Betha awoke with an intense feeling of dread in her heart.

  “What is the matter with me? Lord, why am I feeling so blue?” Betha wondered aloud as she dressed for the day.