Christina and Mitchell (Colorado Matchmaker Book 6)

by Annie Boone

Lucas chuckled and teasingly elbowed her. “You didn’t do anything, dear. You can’t take any credit for this one.”

  She scoffed. “Oh, you know I’m right. I’m quite good at matchmaking. Getting better all the time.”

  Christina giggled as she looked up at her new husband. There were a lot of windows that invited the sunshine into the room, with a large enough table that fit all their friends. Everyone was happy to be there in they place they now called their own.

  “Of course you are, dear. Better all the time.” Lucas grinned and looked away.

  “Wait, are you mocking me? You’d best not be mocking me.”

  He was bouncing the little boy, and focused on the little one as he continued to grin. “Heavens, no, Susie. I’d never do that.”

  Taking the child, Susannah beamed at the boy before pouting at her husband. “You are mocking me. That’s not very nice. If you keep mocking me, I won’t kiss you anymore.”

  Mitchell moved around to one of the open seats and winked at Christina who paused beside the bickering couple. She hesitated, seeing the look of consternation on Lucas’s face. Even Ruby and Steven, Christina’s aunt and uncle, looked concerned. But Matthew and Eleanor were laughing. Indeed, a moment later, Lucas looked like he was about to apologize when his wife smirked and suddenly kissed him long enough that they both blushed bright red.

  “You thought I was serious for a minute there, didn’t you?” Susannah laughed out loud and gently bumped her shoulder against her husband’s arm.

  Lucas chuckled and shook his head. “Doesn’t happen often, so I suppose I can give you this one, especially since there were witnesses.”

  The baby squealed as they separated, and the Connors laughed as they took the boy back. “You two are as troublesome as our children,” Eleanor teased. “Besides, we should be cheering for the newlyweds, not you old folks.”

  Lucas and Susannah protested lightly, laughing as they settled back in their seats. The attention turned towards the Powells as Christina hugged her aunt and joined them at the table to eat the lovely meal she’d prepared to celebrate the happiest day of her life.

  Epilogue

  Though Christina always pulled her hair back and out of her face in a bun or into braids, the silky tresses usually escaped. The wisps would flow over her shoulders and down her back. Her almost black hair used to bother her, but Mitchell had assured her time and again that he loved her hair.

  They’d been married for six blissful months. Christina grew happier every day. She’d never dreamed her life could be this good. She woke up every morning with a prayer of rejoicing for the miracles God was bringing forth in her life.

  She was still self-conscious that her skin was a bit darker than everyone else’s and she knew she still looked different than everyone she saw. That was an insecurity she was struggling to shed.

  She also knew that Mitchell’s appearance drew stares in town from people they didn’t know. His birthmark didn’t bother her in the least and it never had. In fact, she loved it because it was him.

  Though they both loved the things about the other that made them unique, individually they were slowly realizing that it didn’t matter what other people thought. They could easily face down the stares and much more when they were together.

  And now as she prepared to share her special secret with her husband, she thought of her parents. How happy they’d be to see how things had turned out for her in Rocky Ridge! She’d been reluctant to come to an unknown place, but this was where she’d found her future. She had no regrets.

  The slamming back door pulled her out of her musings and she smiled at the thought of seeing her husband. “Supper’s almost ready, Mitchell. Hungry?” She turned and smiled as he came to her.

  “Starved. But I can wait a minute if you’ll give me a kiss.”

  “I think that’s something I can manage.” She giggled and stepped into his arms as she raised her face to his. Their lips met and she felt the familiar quiver she cherished.

  He pulled her close and she heard him sigh.

  “You know, Mitchell, I was going to save this for after supper, but maybe now’s just the right time.”

  “What is it? Is anything wrong?” His brow furrowed as he leaned back to look at her.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Everything’s fine. It couldn’t be better, actually.” She smiled and he looked puzzled. “Come with me and let’s sit.”

  They sat on the settee in front of the fire and she reached for his hand. She thought he might have figured out her news but chuckled as she realized he was completely in the dark.

  “All right, Christina. What’s going on?” He tilted his head, still not smiling.

  “Well, I saw Dr. Fitzgerald today—”

  “Dr. Fitzgerald? Why didn’t I know you were seeing him? What’s wrong?” He looked like he was going to cry.

  Feeling a little sorry for him, she decided to come out with the news rather than torture him further. “I’m with child, Mitchell. We’re going to have a baby.”

  Relief and joy covered his face at once. “A baby? I can’t believe it!”

  “I know it’s soon, but I’m happy. What do you think about it?”

  “Well, it’s unexpected news. I knew we’d have children, but I didn’t think we’d have a family so soon. It’s what I want and once I get used to it the idea of being a father I’ll be thrilled.”

  She smiled and reached for his hand, content to sit with him for a moment as they both let the news sink in.

  “Christina, on the day we married I thought about this day. It’s come sooner than I expected, but that doesn’t matter. The thing I promised myself was that our children would have two names—just like their mother.”

  Her jaw dropped in surprise. She was speechless as she watched his face.

  “I’m sorry I never met your parents, but I want us to pay tribute to them. We can give them Sioux names and Christian names. And I want to teach them about their heritage. Is that something you’d like to do?”

  A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away slowly, unashamed and touched. “I’d love that. I love it more that you thought of it. It’s the best gift you’ve ever given me. Thank you, Mitchell.”

  He put an arm around her and pulled her close again. She melted into him as she thanked God again for his mercy and grace and for sending this perfectly imperfect man into her life. Together they could accomplish anything. She couldn’t wait to meet their baby and start raising their family. Together.

  It’s not quite the end!

  Did you enjoy Christina and Mitchell’s love story? Isn’t it wonderful and inspiring to see two lost souls find love and acceptance in each other? I loved how they learned to trust that acceptance even though they’d struggled with that their whole lives before they met. God does put the right people in our lives.

  If you want to find out how Susannah helps another young woman change her life and meet the man of her dreams, turn the page for a sneak peek!

  Mary

  He was right there, right behind her. A strangled cry escaped her lips as he grabbed for her, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. They burned her flesh even through her blouse and she desperately tried to move faster. One foot after another, she tried to run.

  Crashing through the dark, she felt her heart beating out of her chest and she knew she couldn’t go on for much longer. She was out of breath and her fright was taking over. There had to be an escape somewhere, someplace safe. And that’s when his hands closed around her neck.

  Gasping for breath, Mary woke in a cold sweat. She bolted upright and looked around her but she couldn’t see anything.

  Darkness was everywhere but a small sliver of moonlight peeked through her lace curtains. Sitting on the bed with the covers over her legs, she stared at the tiny bit of brightness praying it would keep her awake. She’d give anything not to fall asleep again. She wrapped herself up in her blankets and fought to catch her breath as she leaned back and curled up again.
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  “Almighty God, You are the fountain of truth and might. I pray for Your comfort and forgiveness,” she whispered into the silence. “Oh Lord who was crucified for me, I give You my unworthiness and all that I am. Though I’m undeserving, please grant me peace. I beg for Your mercy for my sins and transgressions. Hear my prayer, in Jesus most precious name. Amen.”

  The prayer was supposed to ease the tension in her shoulders along with the fear and the misery living in her heart. Mary clutched the blankets tightly and felt a bead of sweat slide over her forehead. She blinked and looked at the moonlight, knowing that the night was passing her by. Soon the sun would rise, and it would be another day.

  Although her nights held her captive in the nightmares, the days were little better. She swallowed, trying to think about what she would do once it was light outside. It was Sunday, so she would attend church services. With three churches within walking distance she would be able to attend all sermons before retiring for the evening. It was the only thing she could think to do, other than staying trapped inside this dark and lonely house.

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Almighty God, You are the fountain of truth and might. I pray…” And she recited the prayers over and over until she finally dozed off. That sleep fortunately held no dreams, but it was restless until the rising sun woke her a few hours later.

  It was difficult to know how much sleep she’d actually gotten during the night, but her body was eager to remind her that it was not enough rest. She slowly dressed and brushed her long red hair. It used to be bright and shiny once, but with time and little care the scraggly curls had grown dull and dry. Sighing at her sad reflection, she went to the kitchen and stirred the corn and beans she’d put over the fire to heat up for her breakfast.

  As she looked for a bowl, Mary found buried in the back of one of her cupboards an old silver platter. It was one that her mother had given her when she got married. When it had disappeared a few years ago, she’d assumed James had sold it. Had it really been in the back of this cupboard for all that time?

  She polished it up, only to find her reflection. Mary Robinson frowned, instantly spotting the dark circles beneath her eyes, the lifeless hair, and a scar across her eyebrow. She hated her reflection.

  She touched the scar, remembering when it had happened. It was still just a bit red, and she cringed at the memory from last year, one of the last times she’d seen her husband. It was a parting gift, after he had slammed her into the table. These recollections were unproductive but she was unable to avoid them. They brought a bitter taste to her mouth and she looked away blinking back tears. She didn’t need that platter anymore. Perhaps she could sell it for a dollar or two at the market.

  “Happy Sabbath,” she murmured as she arrived at the church service soon after finishing her breakfast. Nodding to the folks around her, she clutched her shabby shawl and made her way through the benches. “Hello. Pardon me. Happy Sabbath.”

  Though she always sat alone, Mary enjoyed going to church. She had done so as a child and it had been nice, getting out of the house and away from her parents. Her late husband hadn’t let her go to church for most of the twenty-one years they’d been married, and it was in the last few months that she had found refuge there again.

  Joyful hymns and the sermons spoke of love and peace. Those were her favorites, for they talked about everything she wanted in this life. Joy, love, hope, and peace. Especially peace. The weight on her shoulders was sometimes too heavy to bear, and she knew there was much healing needed in her life. Her time was committed to the Lord these days, where she could atone for her sins. There were many sins to do penance for.

  When the final prayer was given, she crossed town to a smaller church building. They always started later so she slipped in the back and made it in time for the last hymn. Mary listened to the pastor speak of gratitude. Spring had brought the rain they needed, and she heard more babies crying in their seats than usual. And when that sermon finished, Mary walked the extra mile just south of Boston to listen to the final church service. It was later in the day for those who still needed to work, and the factories could be heard and smelled nearby.

  This church met in an old warehouse in the middle of the industrial section of town. Everything was gray but for the yellow candles that surrounded them. Ignoring the rats in the shadows, she sniffed the musty air and took a seat towards the front since they were always available and had small cushions on them. This pastor leading this flock was very loud and passionate. But he always brought a beautiful painting of Mary and Jesus up front to give the building some spirituality, and it was lovely.

  He lectured them about repentance, something she was steadfastly working on. Sighing, Mary leaned forward in her seat as he moved, so she could enjoy the artwork. The Virgin Mary cradled her baby son close in her arms with the most serene expression on her face. Whoever had painted it must have known what it was like to be a parent—and the love of God. The thought of motherhood only made her heart ache. Everything reminded of her of the past.

  There had been her foster children, but Mary never had the opportunity to bear her own daughter or son. Resting her hands against her stomach, all she could think of was that particular night. James had beaten her only occasionally in their years but on their third anniversary, he had been terribly drunk and thrashed her so badly that by the time she regained consciousness, she knew they would never have a family. Her insides had burned, and the pain tore through her. She bled uncontrollably. No, there could never be any babies for her and James.

  There had been Ben and Selina, though. Ben came to them when he was five years old, a little orphan being cared for by the old pastor until the man passed away. Mary could remember the sadness in Ben’s eyes when she found him hiding in the shadows, not knowing where to go. She had begged James to allow each of the children to live in their home.

  Dark memories came back and she squeezed her eyes shut against them. Sometimes she wondered if that had been the wrong choice. The children had needed a home desperately, but they hadn’t exactly been the family she’d been hoping for. Ben had been safe for the most part, for he had been quick and clever and obedient. He’d taken on the hard work that kept him away from James’ anger. Selina, on the other hand, had been constantly under his watchful gaze. She’d had no place to hide and she’d been at his mercy—or lack of, more appropriately.

  No, she wouldn’t think about that. Not now. She shook her head and realized the room had started buzzing with conversation. Everyone was up talking and walking around since the sermon had ended. Mary hadn’t even noticed. Hurriedly she wiped her face dry and stood to leave.

  “Oh, pardon me,” she offered when she turned out of the bench only to run into who she suddenly realized were her neighbors. Dillards Jensen stared at her, a heavy hand on his son, Daniel. They looked at each other as she realized it had been nearly a year since she’d been this close to them, since they had found her lying in a pool of her own blood. Once they had brought her a doctor, the family had never spoken to her again. “Oh,” the redhead offered faintly and brushed some hair from her face. “It’s good to see you.”

  The wife, Emily, clutched her husband’s arm. She opened her mouth to say something, but her husband spoke first in a distant tone. “Mrs. Robinson, you don’t usually come here, do you?”

  Confused, she shrugged. “I started coming here recently. I… I like the sermons, and the painting. Is something wrong?” Mary saw the dark look and glanced at the little family.

  “No,” Emily shook her head with a tight smile. “Not at all.”

  She turned to go, but Mr. Jensen wasn’t as soft-spoken as he must have thought he was. “I thought this was far enough away. We need to find another church. I don’t want you two near her.” They were harsh words, simple but hurtful enough that Mary stumbled and grabbed a bench to steady herself.

  Not wanting to get caught listening, she hurriedly escaped the suddenly crowded building. Out on th
e street, Mary looked around warily for what she hadn’t seen before now. People were watching her. After being distracted with her own thoughts, she hadn’t bothered to look at those around her. She noticed familiar faces from town, Bostonians that she had known the last twenty years, people that no longer spoke to her after what had happened with James.

  Her life was different now, and she didn’t know how to go back to the way things were. She couldn’t control the thoughts and actions of others, after all. Then again, the people who had once been her friends probably didn’t know how to go back, either.

  The arrest warrant had gone out for James and everyone in town had known the kind of man he’d been. When he’d been killed and he was gone, things hadn’t gotten much better. Every time she looked around and caught someone staring, they turned away abruptly. Once, twice, and then three times until she couldn’t stomach it anymore. Hurriedly Mary made her way back to her house.

  There was that sense of freedom for the first time in many years, she admitted to herself. But it was also a heavy responsibility. No wonder she hadn’t been able to find employment, for everyone appeared to know who she was. Most importantly, they must believe she brought trouble with her.

  They wouldn’t talk to her, not even at the market. Not one soul ever asked if she was interested in their goods. Though there were always rumors, she hadn’t realized that the talk had spread far enough to affect every part of her life. She was the talk of the town, and she didn’t know what to do.

  It only made matters worse the next day when she went through her chest to find that she only had a little money left. While the woman was aware that her finances were just about depleted, she’d been trying not to concern herself with that problem. But now, Mary realized, was the time to worry.

  Her niece, Selina, had sent her money months ago. It had come from a reward put on her husband’s head and though she hadn’t been the one to catch him, Selina and her husband had decided to give it to her. It had been a generous notion and a much-needed blessing when James’ debtors insistently came calling. But now there was little left. Even if she had skills that could earn her wages, no one would hire her.