Mail Order Bride: CLEAN Western Historical Romance: Plea of the Desperate Bride (Three Brides of Haines Press Book3)

by Faye Sonja

  Florence put her bag down on the floor next to her and then took her seat. The men followed suit.

  Mr. Howard leaned forward and looked at Florence, though he spoke to Ben. “So, you want to put this lady in charge of the whole project?”

  “Well, I’ll manage it, but yes, Florence would be head of design.”

  Howard nodded. “You got something I can look at, girl?”

  Florence blinked and then reached for her bag, pulling out her portfolio. She handed the binder to Howard and the man flipped through it; giving it a scan. “Hm. These are really good.” He looked at her. “You did these? Ain’t no way a little thing like you did this.”

  Ben smiled. “I would only call in the best for something like this.”

  Florence looked at him. Ben had never said anything like that to her before. They’d worked on projects before, but a compliment of this magnitude was huge. Howard got her attention then. “Miss Tilson, as the head of the business committee here in town, I’m in charge of Haines’ section at the Kansas State Fair. We’ve got tons of people here ready to put their work on display at the fair in just a few months, but we need someone to design our advertising, and not just for the papers, but for the fair itself. Signs, banners, posters, booth covers, the whole nine yards. You understand?”

  Florence swallowed. “You want me to design everything?”

  Ben grabbed her hand. “We want you to lead the design team. We want you to come up with a powerful theme that will draw the crowds to our side of the field.”

  Howard spoke. “A design of this magnitude is going to fetch Haines Press a pretty penny, and could quite possibly open the company up to a whole new branch of business. Do you understand that, girl?”

  Florence blinked. Were these men saying that the future of a new marketing division at Haines Press laid on her shoulders? She looked at Benjamin. Was this a joke? Howard spoke again. “Not to mention the kind of money you’d be able to make if all goes well. We’re expecting hundreds of thousands of people at the fair this year.”

  Ben’s hand tightened on Florence’s. “She can do it.”

  Florence looked at him. Did he really have that much faith in her?

  Howard spoke again. “I don’t know. It might be more of a man’s pursuit.”

  Florence’s head swung towards Mr. Howard. “I can do it.” Her hand tightened in Ben’s.

  Howard narrowed his eyes and then sighed. “Well, the last time I doubted a woman Benjamin brought to a meeting, I got read my rights.” Florence smiled. She knew the story. Ben and Robert had come to town on a mission; regain control of Eve’s company. The woman at the meeting had been Eve, and together, they had succeeded in putting the members of the board, which included Mr. Howard, rightfully in their place. Eve, who was back to running her father’s company, was currently proving the one thing that every man had doubted; that a woman could do anything that a man could. Howard shook his head. “I was proven wrong before, so I’m ready to be proven wrong again… So long as I make money.” He smiled.

  Florence smiled and stood. She stretched her hand to Mr. Howard. “Be ready to be amazed, Mr. Howard.”

  Howard stood and shook her hand. He chuckled. “You’re a spirited little thing. You sure you’re not interested in marrying? I got more money than you’d ever know what to with.”

  Florence took her hand back, but kept her smile in place. “I’m going to give you something better than my hand, Mr. Howard.”

  He looked at her under hooded eyes. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Money.”

  He chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.”

  Florence laughed and then turned to Ben who stood by her. He was practically glowing in her direction. He retook her hand, shook Mr. Howard’s with his other, and then started out of the office. They were out in the hall when Ben finally spoke. “You did beautifully. I knew you’d charm him.”

  Florence frowned. “Is that why you brought me?”

  Ben made a turn that took them both into the hotel’s dining hall. “It was one of the reasons.”

  A hostess took them to a table and Ben held out a chair for Florence; which she took, begrudgingly. When Ben finally sat, Florence attacked him. “You gave me a job because I was attractive?”

  Ben gave Florence a hard look. “I would never hire anyone for a job of this magnitude just because they were ‘attractive’.” He brought up his menu; shutting off the view of his face.

  “Hm.” Florence snapped up her own menu. “Good.”

  His menu came down. “Though, your beauty did help seal the deal.”

  Florence’s menu followed. “How so?”

  “Howard is a sucker for eyes.” Ben brought his menu back up. “What are you going to eat? I think I’ll have an omelet.”

  Florence put her menu back up. She looked at it. Her stomach grumbled; loudly. “Everything on the menu sounds good to me.”

  “Then have everything,” he said.

  Florence put her menu down. “I can’t have everything. I’d get fat.”

  Ben put his menu down; his face said he clearly thought her to be silly. “It’s one meal. Besides, you’re eating for two now.”

  Florence sighed. “Still, a lady shouldn’t eat so much.”

  Ben frowned. “Says who?”

  Florence frowned. “Men only marry skinny women.”

  Ben shook his head. “You could gain twenty pounds and I’d still ask you to marry me.”

  Florence blushed. “Ben,” she placed her hands on her cheeks.

  “Besides, you could stand to gain a few pounds. You’re almost too thin.”

  Florence sighed. “See what I mean? You always ruin the moment.”

  “What moment?”

  A waitress came by and brought them water. Her name was Mary. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes—”

  “No—”

  The waitress laughed. “You two are the most adorable couple I’ve ever seen.”

  Florence snorted. “We—”

  “Thank you.” Ben smiled at the woman. “And we are ready to order. I’ll have the omelet and my wife will be having a little bit of everything.”

  Florence gasped. “Benjamin.”

  The waitress asked, “Bread, biscuits, and pancakes?”

  Ben nodded. “Yup.”

  Florence sighed. “Ben—”

  The waitress wrote. “Sausage, bacon, and ham?”

  Ben’s smile widened. “Yup.”

  The waitress asked, “One egg?”

  Ben laughed. “Two at least!”

  “No,” Florence said.

  “Scrambled?” the waitress asked.

  “Sounds good,” Ben said.

  Florence said, “Hello? Am I still here?”

  “Grits, oatmeal, porridge, and potatoes?” the waitress continued to ask.

  Florence turned to the waitress. “No porridge. I hate porridge.”

  Ben tsked at the waitress. “No porridge. You heard the woman.”

  “Got it,” the waitress said, then left.

  Ben smiled at Florence’s fallen face. “See, was that so hard?”

  Florence crossed her arms. “I’ll never finish it.”

  “I’ll help.”

  Florence sighed, then looked away. “You’re most adorable when you pout.”

  Florence smiled.

  “Though, I hear that if you keep the frown lines going, they’ll stay forever. Not the most attractive thing on a woman.”

  Florence sighed. Benjamin Manning was going to drive Florence into an insane asylum.

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  3

  Chapter THREE

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  “I can’t marry you, Benjamin. I don’t

  like being alone, but I want to be

  with someone who will love me.”

  Ben took another sip of the oatmeal and smiled across th
e table at Florence. Her eyes were closed and she moaned after every bite. The small restaurant was another reason Ben had chosen to stay at the Howard Hotel. The food was excellent.

  Florence slowly opened her eyes. “I’ve never eaten here before.”

  “Howard was remodeling the kitchen last year. It’s a recent town treasure. Not too many people know about it yet.”

  Florence smiled as she stabbed at her soft scrambled eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Florence went back to her plate. Ben bit into a maple syrup drowned pancake as he continued to talk. “If we married, every day could be like this.”

  A fork clattered on the plate. Ben looked up to meet Florence’s alluring eyes. “Don’t start that again, Ben.”

  Ben sighed. “Alright.”

  Florence picked her fork back up. “I still don’t understand why you chose me to head the design for this.” She glanced at him. “I feel like my work has never been good enough for you.”

  Ben frowned. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I think you’re work is excellent.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, Florence.”

  “Then why do you always critique me?”

  He shrugged. “Because you could always be better.”

  Florence sighed. “So I’m good, but I can be better.”

  “Everyone can be better. I’ve travelled the world, Florence. I’ve seen designs in New York, Paris, Italy. You’re from Kansas and I say, you’re excellent, but everyone can be better. Anyone and everyone, should want to do better.”

  Florence’s eyes stared into his; unmoved. “You’d really put my work on the same stage as designs from Paris?”

  Ben leaned forward over the table. “I would.”

  Florence smiled. Ben opened his mouth. Florence reached over and placed a hand over his lips. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

  Ben smiled underneath her soft fingers. He kissed them gently. Florence pulled her hand back as though she’d been burned. She looked away. “Ben.” She shook her head. “You make it hard for me to hate you sometimes.”

  That is exactly what I intend to do, Ben thought. Yes, he thought Florence’s designs were superb, but he’d had more than one reason for putting Florence to work on this grand assignment. He wanted to be close to her. He wanted to put her in a position that would require him almost unlimited access to her. Why? Because she’d turned him down and kept doing it. It was the strangest experience of Ben’s life. Benjamin Manning, who’d never planned to marry, had finally asked a woman to take his last name and she’d said no. She said no and she kept on saying no. How was that even possible? Ben knew what he looked like; he saw himself in the mirror every day. He was handsome. Plus, he had a job; a job that paid well. Those two things alone were more than what Eddie had going for him, and yet, Florence had told him no. What did the dirty little man named Eddie, have over him anyway? It was unnerving and Benjamin Manning would not stand for it.

  Since he’d come to town, Ben had basically dodged all the good daughters and mothers of Haines, because everyone was trying to get him to take someone down the aisle. He’d admit that some of the women in town were beautiful, like Howard’s daughter, Amy. A marriage to Amy would definitely put Benjamin into all the right circles. Amy had already showed interest in him; repeatedly, and marrying her was something that Ben had always seen himself eventually doing; marrying, if he married, for status alone. But then, Florence Tilson, with her long blond hair, violet eyes, and warm colored skin, had come along, and Ben was rethinking everything. It wasn’t love he felt for Florence. It was intrigue. Florence made him smile on the inside; which Ben thought was a silly thing to say, but true. Ben had had years of practice at perfecting his ‘public and polite’ smile, but the one he gave to Florence, he could feel in his chest. It felt like something warm and heavy had invaded him on the inside and settled over his heart. Not love. Never that. But something that he was growing to like. Something that only Florence’s presence could bring.

  The waitress, and a series of other wait staff, came over to box all the leftovers away. When they returned, Ben paid the check, dropped a heavy tip, and then escorted Florence out of the hotel and back into the sunny day and busy sidewalk of Haines.

  They started for Haines Press. Ben put his hands in his pockets and looked over at Florence. She was carrying her boxes in her hand, since she’d refused to let him carry them. He smiled. “Did you plan on going to the fair?”

  Florence smiled at him as they walked at a leisurely stroll. “Yeah. I was actually going to paint something for the art contest, but now I don’t think I’ll have the time.”

  Ben frowned. “It’s always good to get paid for your passion.”

  Florence narrowed her eyes. “What’s your passion?”

  Ben smiled. “Getting people to say ‘yes’.”

  Florence huddled away from him. Ben laughed, then said, “Like securing the design job with Howard.”

  They crossed the street. “How’d you manage to pull that off?”

  “I dined at the hotel when he dined at the hotel. Eventually, we were sitting together and talking as though it was routine. If one of us was late, we’d always save a seat for the other.”

  “So, you were friends first?”

  “I wouldn’t say that Howard is my friend, but we have a mutual respect for what the other does.”

  Florence frowned. “So, you and Howard, talking and eating together, it was all just coincidence?”

  Ben looked at Florence’s face and found himself trapped in her gaze. “No, I set it up.”

  Florence gasped. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing to do, Ben.”

  Ben shrugged. “Either way, we’ll both benefit from the relationship.”

  Florence shook her head. “It’s almost like you’re a con artist.”

  Ben laughed. “A con artist?” He shook his head. “No, I take nothing that I haven’t earned. I simply specialize in knowing what people want, and I’ve become something of a professional at giving it to them.”

  “That sounds like a useful skill.”

  “It is.”

  “It won’t work with me.”

  “I know.”

  Her lavender eyes held his. “You know?”

  Ben nodded.

  Florence frowned. “You don’t act like you know.”

  Ben smiled. “Knowing what people want and giving it to them is only part of my specialty.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  Ben stopped walking, which caused Florence to stop as well. She turned around to look at him. Ben stepped closer to her and brought his hand up; hovering it by her face. Florence’s lips parted. Ben stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft underneath his touch. Florence’s eyes fluttered closed. Ben whispered. “My other specialty is knowing what someone needs and giving that to them as well.”

  Florence’s eyes opened. “I don’t need you.”

  Ben’s hand cupped her face. “Are you sure?”

  Florence’s eyes skirted around. “You keep touching me like this and people will talk.”

  “I don’t care. Do you?”

  Florence took a step back. “About me? No. Once everyone sees that I’m pregnant, I’m done. But you?” She visibly swallowed. “I don’t want people to think that the baby is yours. It would ruin your reputation.”

  Ben took a step closer. “How about you let me worry about my own reputation.”

  Florence shook her head. “No, because if your reputation is ruined, I’ll feel responsible.”

  “And what would you do then?”

  Florence sighed. “Be guilted into marrying you.”

  A slow grin spread on Ben’s face.

  Florence gasped. “You’re just terrible.”

  He laughed. Florence spun away and headed down the street. Ben stood on the sidewalk, watching as Florence’s blond waves swayed with her steps. The way she b
alanced on her toes; skirting around the pedestrians reminded him of a dancer. He smiled and then walked the rest of the way to Haines Press by himself; ready to get to work on business… and on Florence’s heart.

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  Chapter FOUR

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  “I can’t marry you, Benjamin. I don’t

  like being alone, but I want to be

  with someone who will love me.”

  Florence took off her shoes as she entered Clara’s home. It was the weekend, and the weekend meant Girl Time. The week had been a rough one for Florence. She’d assembled a team from Haines’ top designers together and they’d gotten to work with the fair’s advertisement designs. Some of the men had had a problem working and having a woman in charge, so Florence had dismissed them. One strike and they were out. She was pregnant, moody, and didn’t have the patience. She’d pushed ahead without the ones that tried to cause trouble only to have them all come back begging by the end of the week. They didn’t want to work for a woman, but the money was too good to pass up. Even Florence was excited about her cut. If all went well, she might be able to start looking for that dream house next year after all. The thought of raising her baby in a place of his or her own put a smile on her face.

  Music from Clara’s recorder greeted her ears and made Florence smile. A piano played a perky shuffled tune, a trumpet blow sketched across the melody, and a bass player set the tempo in motion. Florence’s shoulders were moving before she even realized that her feet began to tap. She put her bag down and raced to the sitting room. She found Clara in a black flapper, dancing. The beads on the ends of each layer shimmied to the jazzy sounds that blared through the home. Eve and her one-year-old daughter, Evelyn, were dancing too; mommy and daughter holding hands, Eve on her knees so that she could be eye level with Evelyn. The little girl, who was just grasping how to stand on her own chubby legs was laughing. They were having a party without her.

  Clara held out her hand and Florence didn’t resist. The moment their hands touched, their feet crossed, kicked in the air, and crossed again as they both tried to do The Charleston, to the song created by composer James P. Johnson.