[2016] Finding My Cowboy

by Christian Michael

  “You have been hiding from me,” he said sitting on the floor beside her and nudging her playfully.

  “Don’t ever invite someone into our home without first asking me if it is okay and never you ever allow them to stay again if they disrespect me or the people who work for you,” she said firmly to him not giving him a chance to speak of anything else. “If this is to be my home then that needs to be understood.”

  “I am sorry,” he said and kissed her forehead. “It was really not something she wanted to hear but she accepted it for truce sake.

  “I heard you have not eaten, do you want me to bring you some food?” he asked coming bending beside her to rest a kiss on the top of her head. She turned her cheek to him and patted there too, indicated she wanted another kiss. He obliged with a smile and again told her he was sorry.

  “Are you happy here, Jemma?” he asked, with concern lacing his every word.

  “You have no idea just how happy I am,” she said and if only he knew the entire meaning of her words he might have seen it fit to have her committed to an asylum or a convent. “Have I given you reason to doubt that?” she asked him.

  “It’s just that I see you drift off in solemn thought sometimes and I worry that I am not making you happy.”

  She pulled him down to her eye level and spoke clearly so she could hear. “I am happier than I have been in a long time and I will always be happy with you. I love you and I love the life we are making together. Sometimes I miss Texas and other times I just wished Megan was here so we could talk about girly things, but I am happy. This week was a hard week, but I am happy, as long as I am with you.”

  She pecked him on the cheek as he smiled and left her to her book. The minute the door to the library closed, she clutched the book to her chest, took a deep breath and smiled.

  He threw it open again. “And you can talk to me about girly things too!”

  She laughed as he left her to her musings. She made her way to the sofa and opened the window. The music playing in the distance softly floated around to the library while she stretched out on the couch. She opened the book she had intended to read but her mind kept wandering to what had just transpired, reliving every moment of it. She felt nothing but love for this man and she expected they would have their squabbles, but even then she was comfortable here, and she hadn’t told him yet, but the child she was carrying would be just as happy too. With that thought she let the music lull her to sleep.

  ***

  Jemma woke in the morning to find that she had been carried up the stairs stripped down and placed in her bed. It was a tad bit scary to find that she had not felt being moved at all and worse being taken out of her clothes. She had heard that the mythical powers of great love could do this to a person but had not experienced it until now. It was an amusing thought in and of itself.

  She rolled over in her bed intending to go back to sleep, it was after all Sunday morning and no great haste to wake up. But as she rolled over her eyes fell on a most beautiful sight. A small bouquet of red and black roses waited on her pillow with a note. The roses had droplets of water on them so she knew they must have been placed there within the hour, and she was again startled that she had not heard her visitor come or go. As she pulled the note opened she smiled:

  “Your lips were supposed to taste like forbidden fruit, bidding me leave to a foreign land and never return.

  Yet, every breath that exchanged between our urgent mouths tasted limitless.”

  - Anonymous

  She smiled at how poetic it was and tried to remember if she had read it somewhere but couldn’t. She did not miss the subliminal meaning to the message and she smiled at its realization. She had been right about him; John did know how to romance a woman when he was ready. This adventure that was to be their lives was just getting started and she looked forward to what it might mean. She didn’t miss the fact too that he had placed her in her own bed for the night and not in their matrimonial bed. She loved that he respected the fact that she had chosen to sleep away from him and the choice as to when she returned should be hers. It was warming to say the least.

  She fell asleep again staring at the petals and wondering if there was any particular meaning to the number of black and red roses in the bouquet. She had heard somewhere that every bouquet combination had a deeper meaning and in particular where roses were concerned.

  A soft rap came on her door later and she smiled as soon as she heard her husband ask if he could come in. Today was the day she would tell him the glorious news and hoped that he would be as happy about it as she was.

  “Come in,” she called, her voice still a bit husky from sleep and as the door opened she looked at the man she loved carrying a tray of food. Sometimes she had to stop and wonder when she had gone from liking him to loving him, but the answer was always clear, every day that they had spent together up until Cynthia’s arrival was a day she had loved him. The days following that had been spent doubt both their decisions, but even then she knew all marriages faced their storms and she was not willing to let that define them. Besides, he had made it up to her in immeasurable ways.

  “Good morning sunshine,” his perky voice ran any sleep she had remaining, right out of the building. “Oh, I see you have an admirer. Who do you have sending you bouquets in our home?” he teased.

  “Well, some wonderful stranger has decided to rid my mind of all the evil things of the past few days and give me something wonderful to wake up to. I think I shall marry him once I have found his identity out,” she said playfully.

  “That would be signing his death. I would challenge him to a duel for your love,” he hopped around the room pretending to have a sword and jabbed at the air in vivid imagination. Much to her delight he even pretended to lose. She looked at him yet again and felt nothing but love for the man who had stolen her away from herself.

  “Eat up,” he said moments later coming to pick from her plate. “You will need your strength if you are to watch me duel to the death.”

  “And I will need to keep my strength up for your child that I am carrying inside me.” That stopped him in his tracks and he looked at her in shock.

  “Yes,” she responded and he hopped around again in joy, dashing out of the room moments later to tell Clive and the entire household the news. She listened to the joyous screams that rang out around the house and couldn’t help but laugh at the joy her baby was already bringing to the house hold and it had yet to be born.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips moments later as he walked back into the room to where she sat munching enthusiastically on the food he had brought her. “I love you so much.”

  She pulled him into her, inhaling the scent he wore that she had become so familiar with. The scent that soothed her each day, feeling his heart beat against hers and really realized that of all the things she had wished for in her life, she had been granted them all in one go. A husband to love and be loved by, a house to call her own, a family who would always be there and now a child she would carry into this world. She had only one more prayer to give and that was of gratitude for the things she had and for the things she knew she would be blessed with.

  That day after she managed to tear herself away from a reluctant John, who did not want her out of his sight, she sat and she penned letters to Megan, Lenard and Jenny. It was an invitation to come be with her during her last stages of pregnancy, so they could be there for the birth of the child she knew they would love. While John worked she did what any expectant mother would do, stayed home and thought of baby names while trying to decide how she would redo the nursery. In the end she decided that it was a decision she would make with her husband.

  “Congratulations,” Clive said behind her as she flipped through the books on the small bookshelf in the nursery. “I had long since given up on hearing the laughter of children running through the halls of this house.”

  “You had given up all hope that John would have come home alive?” she
asked him.

  “No,” he said walking into the room to stand beside her. “I had given up all hope of him finding a woman worthy of carrying his child but you prove my fears unfounded almost every day.”

  She turned to him. “There is a sadness about you Clive, a sadness that I am almost certain is not your own. Will you tell me someday what it is about?”

  He smiled at her and turned to leave the room. “Maybe one day I won’t have to.”

  His response was one of a contented sigh and she looked forward to life in this house. When she felt John’s hand encircle her waist moments later she smiled.

  “I thought you had been to work,” she said leaning back against him.

  “I was, but I found I wanted to be no place that you were not, and so I came home.”

  *****

  THE END.

  Finding My True Love

  Mail Order Bride

  CHRISTIAN MICHAEL

  Chapter 1

  Melissa Thomas woke to the day she had long dreaded; she could feel it as soon as she opened her eyes. Even as the sun shone and glittered through the glass of her bedroom window, she knew this was not going to be a good day.

  At breakfast, her parents were quieter than normal, returning her greeting and not much more. She watched them for furtive glances or any sign that she might be right in her supposition. They didn't show any outward signs of the conspiracy they were part of.

  When breakfast was over her father folded up his newspaper and turning to her said with a broad smile,

  “We have good news.” Melissa’s stomach turned upside down and she felt like what she had eaten could make itself known in the room once more.

  “For who?” she managed to splutter.

  “For you of course darling,” her mother said laughing lightly.

  “M Turner has come to ask for your hand and I have accepted his proposal,” her father said, and then as if that was the end of the matter he stood up, pulled straight his waistcoat and was about to walk away when Melissa said,

  “You said yes, without even discussing it with me?” She was incredulous. Though she had suspected this was long coming she had not expected that it would all be decided without so much as a word of input from her.

  “I don’t need to discuss anything with you dear,” he answered her dismissively. She looked to her mother for some support but there was none coming from that quarter.

  “But I dislike that man immensely,” she whined.

  “You do not even know that man,” her father said.

  “All the more reason why I shouldn’t be marrying him!”

  “I know him well; he is a decent man and he will provide for you. All that will be asked of you is to keep his house and cook for him.”

  “What about love?” she said.

  “This is not some fairytale,” he scoffed and this time, before she could say anything else, he did leave the room. Melissa looked to her mother for support,

  “This is the furthest thing from a fairytale,” Melissa said imploringly.

  “It is time for you to grow up Melissa,” her mother said. “You need to start a family of your own and Mr. Turner is very well thought of in town.”

  “Very wealthy you mean,” Melissa sulked. Her mother walked around the table and put a hand on Melissa’s shoulder.

  “I know this can be a scary time, but you will spend some time with him now and you will see what he is really like,” she said.

  “What if I still don’t like him after that?”

  “You will,” her mother assured her. “Now you run along after your breakfast and put on a lovely dress. Mr. Turner will be here to see you this afternoon.”

  “Today?” Melissa asked; it was all starting so soon, just like that.

  “Yes, you are courting now,” her mother said smiling.

  In her room after breakfast, Melissa looked through all of her clothes. She was trying to see which one looked the worst on her, gave her the most unflattering figure or showed up her pale coloring. She wanted to look as unappealing as possible for Mr. Turner in the hope that he would be turned off her and change his mind.

  Her mother arrived in her room at about midday and looked at the disarray of the bed and floor.

  “Have you still not dressed?” she asked seeing her daughter in a hideous dress that no longer fitted her.

  “I am dressed,” Melissa smiled back at her.

  “You are not wearing that horrid thing!” her mother said coldly.

  “Why not?” Melissa asked innocently.

  “I know what you are trying to do Melissa, and it will not work.”

  “Wha…”

  “Mr. Turner has seen you plenty of times before, he knows how you normally look, and I will remark in his presence today, if I must, that you have dressed poorly on purpose,” her mother said. Melissa conceded defeat and put on one of her nicer dresses and her mother tied up her hair and soon it was announced that Mr. Turner had arrived.

  They came down the stairs and into the drawing room where her father and Mr. Turner were waiting. Turner stood up smiled at the two women as they came in, but even in this Melissa could see nothing pleasant. She had always hated the habit Turner had of ordering the help in this house around as if it were his own and she saw his smiles more as sneers that anything benevolent.

  “Ms. Thomas,” Mr. Turner said, “You look splendid!” Melissa nodded but then felt a sharp jab in her back from her mother. It was so hard she took a step forward,

  “Thank you, Mr. Turner,” she said turning and scowling at her mother.

  “Why don’t we leave these two alone for a few moments, I’m sure they have much to discuss,” her father said. Melissa looked at both him and her mother as they smiled blandly and left the room. She turned back to Mr. Turner, who was still standing.

  “Why don’t you come and sit, dear?” he said indicating the seat her father had just vacated. She came over slowly and sat down not looking at him. “I dare say this came as something of a shock to you?” Turner said smiling.

  “Yes, sir,” she answered timidly.

  “You don’t have to be frightened of me,” he said.

  “I’m not,” she said looking at him. He was taken aback by her answer; it was clear he had not expected it. His face changed, he was not a man for surprises,

  “Perhaps you should be,” he said meanly. She blushed and looked at the floor again. “This is not an ideal match for me either,” he went on, “But, you are young and healthy and your father is not a poor man. You will do well around the house and I can have some boys to pass my business on to.” Melissa was horrified at the way he was talking to her, and how he viewed her as no more than a means to an end, and as some house servant. Again, she wondered how her father could have gone along with this ludicrous idea. At least, she thought, Mr. Turner seemed to acknowledge that this was not a good match for her.

  “Surely there is someone else who would suit you better than I?” she asked. He glared at her but this time, she held his gaze.

  “How dare you,” he said, “Questioning me is one thing I will not permit, do you understand me?” His voice was level but his cheeks were glowing red and she could see the fury in him. She nodded meekly, she knew that there was no hope of finding any happiness with this man. If no one was going to help her, she was going to have to come up with a way out herself.

  Chapter 2

  Roger Fulton lived in California; he had been out west for seven years now and he worked on a large ranch south of San Francisco. He had worked hard and set himself up in a nice house on the main street of town. He had been unlucky in love and now with barely any unattached women in town, he was in something of a pickle. He did not want to have to leave town as he liked the place here. He liked the people and the life and especially the climate.

  One day while he was in the saloon a man he knew called Jackson came up to him,

  “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

  “For what?”
>
  “I’m getting married!” Jackson beamed.

  “What? To who?” Roger asked; he had not even known Jackson was courting anyone, let alone was close to being engaged.

  “Her name is Sandra, she’s from New York; she will arrive here in a week’s time,” his friend told him.

  “I don’t understand,” Roger said, “Where did you meet this woman?”

  “I sent off to one of those papers,” he said.

  “What papers?” Roger really was lost now. Jackson leaned over to the bar and called the tender,

  “Hey, Barney, do you have a ‘Matrimonial Times’ behind the bar?” The bartender leaned back and looked under the bar at the newspapers he gathered up sometimes to keep the place a little tidier. He pulled one loose and tossed it to Jackson,

  “Here you go,” he said,

  “Thanks,” Jackson said and then handing the newspaper to Roger said, “Look at this.”

  Roger took the newspaper and scanned through it. It was filled with adverts of people seeking husbands and wives; he was shocked; he’d never heard of such a thing. He knew in that instant that this was how he was going to go about getting a wife of his own. He smiled widely and looked at his friend once more,

  “Congratulations,” he said, “A round of drinks!” he called to the bartender and a cheer went up from a couple of people who were there.

  The next day he worked at the ranch and all day long he only thought about what he would write in his advert. It was turning out to be harder than he had expected. He did not like to talk about himself but that was unavoidable in this case. Everything he came up with that he thought he would write sounded terrible to him and he grew frustrated. When he got home that evening, he looked at the copy of the newspaper that he had taken from the bar and read the adverts of other men to get a flavor of what to write. An awful lot of them were very similar but he guessed there were a lot of guys who lived very similar lives out here in the west. He wrote down what he thought was best and the following day he posted his advert to the newspapers offices.