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Hopes and Brides: Regency and Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection

Page 119

by Joyce Alec


  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2018

  Publisher

  Love Light Faith, LLC

  400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825

  Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311

  Prologue

  September 1868

  Miss Nora Forester drew in a long breath, tried to smile, and picked up her luggage bag.

  “Are you really sure about this?”

  Looking at her sister, Nora kept her smile fixed, knowing that she was very close to turning back around and heading away from the train and back to the life she’d been used to. The life that she knew was safe and comfortable. Yet, her life was also very, very lonely.

  “I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” she said, reaching forward to kiss her sister’s cheek. “I’m so glad for you, Laura. I know you and Matthew are going to have a wonderful life together.”

  Laura brushed a tear from her eye and squeezed Nora’s free hand, her lips trembling as she smiled. “You will write to me, won’t you? The minute you get there?”

  The train whistled loudly, making Nora jump. “Of course I will,” she promised, pressing her sister’s hand once more before letting it go and hurrying towards the door. “I’ll be more than happy, I’m sure of it.”

  “I’ll miss you!” Laura exclaimed, as Nora looked out of the open window, the train beginning to pull away from the station. “Please write to me as soon as you can. I’ll be waiting for your letter!”

  Nora nodded and waved, her lips quivering in a watery smile as she waved at her sister, glad to see Matthew, Laura’s husband, step forward to wrap an arm around her waist. As the train began to quicken its speed, Nora caught one last glance of her sister turning her head into her husband’s shoulder, clearly upset. Nora swallowed her tears, refusing to let a single one fall as she picked up her bag and began to walk along the swaying carriages, trying to find her berth. The sooner she could be alone, the better.

  “Here you are, miss,” the helpful porter said, grinning at her in stark contrast to the pain she felt inside. “This berth here is yours. We’ll be changing tomorrow morning, and then it’ll be another day or so until the next change. It’ll be a good week or so before we reach Crestview.”

  She nodded and made her way past him, feeling the stress and strain of the last few days weighing on her. Even though she had only just left her sister and stepped onto the train, she was feeling incredibly weary. Closing the door behind her with a thump, she dropped her bag and sank down onto the bed, her face in her hands.

  The tears came then, pouring from her eyes and making their way through her fingers, her body racked with sobs. This is what you wanted, she told herself, trying to regain some kind of composure. This is what you told yourself you wanted.

  It had been harder than she’d expected, leaving her sister and brother-in-law behind. After all, that had been the only life she’d ever known. They’d lived together in the same house since she had been born, with Laura born only a year later, and she’d always considered her life to be fairly happy. Having never really known her mother, for she had died when she and Laura had been only toddlers, they’d learned how to keep house from a young age – and the bond between them had grown steadily. She and Laura had always been close but grown even more so when their father had died a few years ago, leaving them entirely alone. They’d managed to live off their father’s savings for a while, but they’d always known they’d have to marry and begin a life of their own.

  “And this is my life,” she whispered, pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping her eyes, her breath coming in short, quick gasps as she forced herself to calm down. This was her choice, her decision, and even though Laura had tried to talk her out of it, Nora had always known she’d have to be a mail-order bride. There hadn’t been a single man who’d glanced at her more than once in the last few years, whereas Laura had been courting Matthew Thompson, who’d proposed to her only a few months after their courtship had begun. Nora smiled to herself as she remembered just how joyful Laura had been on her wedding day, her face practically glowing with happiness as she’d looked up at Matthew to make her vows.

  Vows that Nora would now make to a man she’d never met before in her life.

  Swallowing hard, Nora got to her feet and moved to the small window in her berth, looking out at the land speeding past her. She’d had no choice but to leave Laura behind, knowing that she couldn’t exactly keep on living in their father’s house with very little money to live on. Laura had said she could sell the house and live off that, promising that Nora could live with her and Matthew, but Nora hadn’t wanted to do that. It wasn’t right for a newlywed couple to have a spinster sister around, even if Laura promised that she wanted her to stay. No, as much as she was afraid of what would happen, as much as she was truly upset about leaving her hometown, there was nothing that could induce her to stay with Laura and Matthew. They needed to start a life of their own, and she had to find hers.

  “I can do this,” she whispered to herself, struggling to keep her composure steady. “I have to do this.”

  She knew why Laura was concerned for her. It was the same concern she had for herself, even if she wouldn’t admit it. The only man who’d written back to her after seeing her picture and reading her reply to their advertisement had been one Peter Shaw, who lived and worked in Crestview, Colorado. The only problem was, Peter Shaw was a good deal older than she was. In fact, he was a good twenty-five years older.

  Biting her lip, Nora let out her breath slowly, forcing herself to find calmness. Peter Shaw had made it very clear that all he wanted in a wife was someone to look after him and his home – and that was something Nora knew she could do well. She had to hope he didn’t want anything else from her; the thought of having to go to his bed made her shudder. She wasn’t looking for love or affection, but instead for a home of her own, a place where she could be safe and secure for a good few years. Peter Shaw could give that to her.

  “You can do this, Nora,” she said aloud, her voice a little stronger than before. “Just hold your head up and everything will be just fine.”

  1

  Joseph Shaw passed a hand over his eyes, struggling to keep his heart from quickening as his mind screamed with panicked thoughts. He had so much to do, and—for some reason—he wasn’t able to do any of it.

  His father was dead.

  Unexpectedly so. He’d been handed the reins of his father’s business and expected to keep things running, even though he was lost in a cloud of grief and pain. It had been so sudden, so quick, to the point that he was struggling to take it in.

  His father had been talking to him that morning, looking in perfect health, and they’d laughed and talked together before his father had gone through to his study. It had only been a few minutes later that Joseph had heard a thump – a thump that had almost stopped Joseph’s heart. He’d found his father lying in the middle of the study floor, his eyes wide and staring – and no pulse beating in his wrist. Joseph hadn’t been able to do a thing to help, and there was nothing that the doctor could do when he’d finally, mercifully, appeared. He’d muttered something about it possibly being a weak heart—whatever that meant. All Joseph knew was that his father was dead and that, now, he was alone.

  Pressing his head into his hands, Joseph drew in a long, steadying breath, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain some focus. The funeral was over, held only one day after his father’s sudden death, which meant there was nothing else for him to do. He had to step into his father’s place and take on the position that he hadn’t expected to hold for a good many years yet.

  It took Joseph a moment to realize that the sound of groaning was coming from his own lips. It was not as though he’d ever really been close to his father, alt
hough he had certainly respected him in his business dealings, but the fact that he was now without either mother or father beat at his mind. He’d spent so long trying to make sure he learned everything he could from his father, thinking that, one day, when his father had taken a step back from the business, they might eventually grow closer in the way he’d always hoped for, but that dream was shattered now.

  All that was left was the harsh, stark reality that he was more alone than he’d ever been before, trying to run a merchant business and the general store without his father at the helm.

  A quiet knock at his front door had him jumping, his thoughts pushed away as he forced himself to his feet, clearing his throat before walking over to answer it.

  “Good morning, Joseph, sir,” the man stammered, looking up at him with something like sympathy mixed with fear. “I’m sorry to go disturbing you like this when I know you’ve got a whole heap of things to be getting on with, but I was just wondering what you wanted me to do about the wife’s things.”

  Joseph frowned, not quite understanding what Billy meant. Billy had worked alongside Joseph’s father for many years in the general store, in charge of unloading, sorting, and organizing all of the ordered goods that came into town. Ordinarily, he was very good at keeping on top of everything without much being required of Joseph, but now he looked more confused than Joseph had ever seen him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Billy,” Joseph replied impatiently, rubbing his forehead in a futile attempt to get rid of the ache in his head. “What wife?”

  Billy scratched his head, his eyes darting away for a moment as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “It was for your father’s bride, Joseph, sir.”

  “Just ‘Joseph’ will do,” Joseph replied stiffly. “What bride are you talking about, Billy? I ain’t heard anything about a bride or a wife.”

  Sighing, Billy bit his lip, his lined forehead an indication that he was trying his best to explain himself carefully. “Your father, God rest his soul, was getting hitched.”

  “Hitched?” Joseph spluttered, his eyes wide. “That can’t be right. He never said anything to me.”

  “All the same, he was planning to get hitched,” Billy continued quietly. “She’s to arrive by the end of the week, I reckon. Of course, he ordered some things for her, since she wasn’t to be bringing very much with her. I just wondered what I was meant to do with it all now since…”

  Billy’s voice trailed off and the throbbing in Joseph’s head intensified. He hadn’t heard about any of this, which wasn’t surprising given how quiet his father was when it came to personal matters.

  “A mail-order bride, I think,” Billy finished hesitantly. “She’ll have been traveling for a long time, Joseph. She won’t know about what’s happened.”

  Joseph closed his eyes, his frustration growing towards the man who was no longer on this earth, the man who chose to tell Billy about his mail-order bride and not his own son.

  “She’ll be here by the end of the week, did you say?” he muttered, leaning against the doorframe. “And she won’t know about my father’s death?”

  Billy shook his head.

  “I reckon I’ll just send her back to where she’s come from,” Joseph replied with a shrug. “She doesn’t need to stay here.”

  There was a short pause. “I think your father said she hasn’t got anywhere to go back to,” Billy said slowly. “She’s gonna be darn confused, getting told he ain’t around anymore for her to marry.”

  Joseph shrugged, not feeling even an iota of sympathy for this mail-order bride, whomever she was. He had enough to deal with. “She’ll have to just head on back regardless. I’ll give her the money if she needs it.”

  Billy lifted one eyebrow, shrugged, and stepped back. “So I’ll pack up all those things your father ordered then, will I? Send them all back?”

  “Yes, do that,” Joseph replied firmly. “I ain’t gonna need them, and neither is she.”

  Billy didn’t say a word but simply turned around and began to walk away from Joseph’s front door, although Joseph got the distinct impression that Billy didn’t approve of his intention to send this mail order bride right back to where she’d come from. Not that it bothered him, of course. He had more than enough to deal with.

  Stepping back into the house, Joseph closed the door tightly and leaned against it for a moment, knowing that he’d have to make his way to the general store soon enough. His father had always been the one in charge of things behind the scenes, whilst Joseph spent his days working at the counter of the general store, with Billy in the back, sorting and ordering the goods. Now, Joseph had to do everything his father had done, as well as carry on serving the customers and ordering in more goods. It had only been a few days, and already Joseph found himself more tired than he’d ever been before.

  What was worse, he realized, as he made his way back to his small kitchen, was that he’d not managed to make himself much to eat lately. In fact, his entire house was in disarray. He needed supplies from the store; there was laundry that needed to be done; his shoes needed polishing; and, worst of all, his father’s clothes and things would have to be sorted out. It was all getting too much, and the burden that settled on Joseph’s shoulders was almost overwhelming.

  Seeing the stack of letters that sat next to his untouched plate of toast, Joseph picked up one and opened it, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee from his china cup and wincing as he swallowed it.

  The first letter was a request for payment for goods, which were, according to the writer, well on their way to Crestview. Joseph grimaced. Once the goods had arrived and been inspected, only then would he send payment. He knew how things worked around here, and paying for something before it had arrived wasn’t wise. He could still remember how he’d sent payment for two dozen bonnets that, subsequently, had never arrived. That had been one of the first lessons his father had taught him, and it was something Joseph had never forgotten.

  Setting that letter aside to think about later, Joseph picked up the second letter and opened it carefully, sitting back down again in his rickety wooden chair. This wasn’t a request for payment or, in fact, anything to do with business. Instead, it was supposedly from some distant relative, a Mr. T. Arbuckle.

  “I would very much like to come and pay my respects,” Joseph read aloud, a slight frown crossing his brow. “It’s been some time since I was in Crestview and no doubt you won’t remember me, but your father and I set up this business a long time ago, before you were born. I’d sure like to come to visit for a time. My train gets in on…” Joseph paused, frowning hard as he read the rest of the letter. From the sounds of it, this Mr. Arbuckle wasn’t waiting for him to write back and say that, yes, he would be glad to have his company for a while here in town before booking his train. He’d already done it. He was to be arriving by the end of next week, and he finished the letter by saying he was sure Joseph would be glad for some company.

  Which meant, as far as Joseph could understand it, that Mr. Arbuckle intended on staying here, in Joseph’s house, instead of in the boarding house that was right next to the station.

  Groaning, Joseph let the letter fall from his fingers, watching it flutter to the ground as he sat back in his chair and tried not to give in to his angry frustration. He couldn’t even keep house on top of everything else he was trying to do, and now some unknown relative was about to foist himself on him? And it wasn’t as though he could just write back to Mr. Arbuckle and tell him that now wasn’t convenient, since he’d not given any kind of address, only written the date at the top of the page. He was being manipulated, and he sure didn’t like it.

  Slamming his fist hard on the table, Joseph shook his head, his chin resting on his chest as he struggled against hot, angry tears. This wasn’t what his father would have expected of him, he knew, but then again, who was around to see him cry? There was no one here to judge him, no one here to lecture him and tell him to get ahold of himself. He was completely
and entirely alone.

  Unable to stem the pain any longer, Joseph let tears trickle down his cheeks, the agony of the sudden loss of his father becoming too much to contain. He wept silently, his letters and breakfast forgotten, wondering just how he was meant to go on.

  2

  “If you’ll just wait here, miss.”

  Nora gave the porter a watery smile as he took the last of her bags off the train and brought them over towards her. She forced herself to sit down on the small, rather rickety-looking bench, her stomach tying itself into tight knots that made her almost nauseous.

  “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” the porter said kindly, tipping his hat. “Thank you, miss. It’s been a pleasure having you on board.”

  Nora handed him an extra couple of coins, truly appreciative of how kind he’d been to her on her long journey to Crestview. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and climbed back on board the train, pulling the door tightly closed behind him. Nora watched as it began to move away, her heart beating so hard in her chest that it made it difficult to breathe. There had been no one waiting for her, no one even looking for her as she’d climbed down from the train. There hadn’t been that many people getting off at the Crestview station, which made it all the worse that there was no one waiting for her.

  And now, as the train pulled away from the station in a cloud of smoke, Nora was left with the unsettling realization that, perhaps, he had taken one look at her and walked away. Perhaps she wasn’t to be married after all. Perhaps the miniature she’d sent of herself hadn’t been a good enough likeness.

  Her stomach began to churn all the more, her fingers tightening on her carpet bag as she held it on her lap, as though it was an anchor that would keep her in place. She was lost. She didn’t know anything about Crestview, and she didn’t know anything about the people who lived here or worked here. Was there a boarding house where she could go in case the worst happened, and no one came for her? What would she do then?

 

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