Jemma wanted to hear nothing else he had to say and so she grabbed her night gown form the bed and headed to what was her room before they had gotten married.
“Jemma!” he called after her apologetically. She didn’t turn to respond; she simply closed the door behind her and got ready for bed. She would have to deal with Emma’s mother for an entire week and clearly the woman was not going to make it easy for her. All kinds of thoughts ran across her mind, the top of the list was whether or not John still had feelings for the woman he would have married before her. He had explained that they were just friends and he wanted to be there to support her always, but even then his willingness to subject her to the cruel words of Cynthia was not okay. Had their roles been reversed she would have found another place for them to stay the moment Cynthia had disrespected him. But their roles were not reversed and so she went to bed trying to steer her mind against what she would have to endure for the rest of the week.
And the week did go by slowly and with her suffering every day. John managed to miss most of it as he went about his daily duties, and Clive excused himself early every night. She was the hostess and so she had to stay, but on the last day there Cynthia delivered a hefty blow. As Jemma helped the kitchen staff to make one of her favourite pies the woman came around.
“Oh Jemma dear it is so unbecoming of a woman now married to your stature to be muddling around in the kitchen. You are no longer house help you need to stop behaving like one or you might find yourself out of a husband.”
Jemma could not believe her ears, she had suffered enough from this woman’s tongue and would have suffered even this in silence, but the insult to her staff she could just not handle it. “Cynthia, I am going to have one of our girl help you to pack your things and you will spend the remainder of your trip in the inn on the other side of town. I believe we have been very generous but your inhospitable manner is making it rather hard to have you here. Not only have you insulted me every chance you have gotten but you have treated my staff as if they were slaves. That is not something I am willing to accept anymore. Please be ready to leave within the hour.”
Jemma did not wait on a response, she simply walked pass the woman with her head held high and went about her business. She went to her room and flopped on the bed, willing her tears not to fall; Cynthia would have won if they did. An hour later when she came down, she was just in time to see the woman being whisked away.
“Well done!” Clive said coming to stand by her. “I wanted to put her out in the cold from the very first day she got here.”
But she was not as happy as he was, she did not like the idea of being mean and cold to others, that was not how she wanted to live her life. For the remainder of the day she closed herself off in the library and read away her sorrows. It was late evening before John came home and scoured the mansion trying to find her.
“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.
Kidnapped Bride
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
Chapter 1
New York
Alta Bishop felt every nerve in her body zinging with excitement. She could hardly believe that she was leaving New York, let alone the fact that she would marry Simon Lynch, a pastor in the West.
Simon…
Just the thought of him made her feel weak in the knees and excited beyond belief. They had found one another through the matrimonial journal and began writing letters months ago. Despite her station, her mother had made sure she was educated, and now Alta couldn’t be happier that her mother had made her slave away writing her letters over and over again. If she hadn’t, she never could have met Simon. Never would have fallen in love with Simon.
“Right this way miss,” a train attendant said.
Still reeling from the fact that she would be traveling to the West today, she acknowledged the man with a nod as she’d seen the women of wealth do and followed him on to the train.
Once seated, she smoothed her hands over her dress and looked out the window. This was it, her ticket to a new world. A smile overtook her as she watched men and women go about their daily routine. She wouldn’t miss the hustle and bustle of the city at all. From Simon’s detailed descriptions of life in the West, everything would be different and yet wonderful.
The train’s whistle startled her but they began to move and her excitement renewed. When the familiar buildings surrounding the track finally disappeared, she settled back and pulled out Simon’s latest letter.
Running her hands over the outside, she gently pulled it out, smoothed it open, and read. Coming to her favorite part she whispered it out loud:
I cannot tell you the extent of my excitement as I await your arrival!
She had responded in kind, but wasn’t sure if he would even get the response before she arrived. The post wasn’t fast, but she couldn’t contain her excitement. A reply had been necessary.
But now…now all she could do was wait.
Wait and pray for her safe arrival and upcoming marriage.
***
Colorado
Simon Lynch walked out of the post office, his shoulders drooping. This was at once the happiest and the saddest day of his life. The urge to dwell on the news he’d just gotten was strong, but the sound of the train whistle drew his thoughts away.
She was coming—almost here in fact—and he couldn’t wait to see her.
If he’d been told not but a year ago that he would be so in love today, he would have laughed. He was a contented preacher who loved his small flock and sharing the Lord’s word to all. But then he’d got it in his head that maybe marriage was something worth considering.
That’s when he’d picked up the matrimonial journal and sought out a wife. He’d read through many advertisements but Alta’s had been the only one to mention her devotion to the Lord. It had struck him, popping out in the bold, black ink. After her first letter, he just knew that she was the one he would marry. It was a wonderful and glorious thing to know that God had hand chosen Alta for him and he for her. Like two matching pieces—a pair.
And now he was going to meet her.
His excitement bubbled over into a brilliant smile and he nodded hellos to those he passed. Some he recognized from church, which gave him a pang of sadness. But he couldn’t think about that now.
Reaching the train depot, he stood anxiously near the main area where the train would pull up. It was there, just in the distance, the lights blurry in the heat rising up off of the tracks. He bounced on his toes in anticipation.
“Someone’s excited for the train to get here.”
Simon looked to the side to see an older man he recognized from town but not from church. “I am.”
“Meeting someone special?” he asked.
“Yes, my fiancé.” He beamed, unable to help the pride in his voice.
“Well, congratulations. I’m surprised you found a woman willing to come out West. It’s a dangerous place, you know.”
“I know,” Simon said, nodding. “But God will protect her, I firmly believe that.”
“Say you’re the preacher over at the church aren’t you?”
Simon opened his mouth to respond but the train whistle mercif
ully cut him off. “Good day sir,” he said with a grin, and walked up closer to the train.
He had envisioned Alta many times, taking from her descriptions of herself, which were modest and not very detailed. He knew she had blonde hair and blue eyes, that she was short and slight, but other than that he had no idea.
There weren’t likely to be many women getting off of the train though, so he had a feeling he would recognize her right away.
Then, one door down from where he was standing, the flicker of a blue dress, and the back of a blond head appeared. His heart leapt and, as the woman turned, Simon’s he knew in an instant it was her. It was Alta.
Walking as if drawn to her, he stopped a few feet away and asked, “Miss Alta Bishop?”
She broke into a smile that rivaled the sun’s radiance and took the last step down to sand on the platform in front of him.
“Yes, I’m Alta. Are you Simon?”
Her voice was smooth as honey and her blue eyes drew him into their depths that reminded him of a deep, refreshing pool in the summer. Her golden hair was drawn back and twisted up, and her slender build was petite but not weak looking. She was stunning and for a moment he couldn’t breathe let alone respond to her.
“Simon?” she asked again.
“Yes,” he finally said, and then blinked, “I mean, yes, I’m Simon. I’m…your fiancé.”
Chapter 2
Alta couldn’t stop from smiling. Simon was adorable. No, that was too soft and childish of a description, but the way he was staring at her—wide eyed with a foolish grin on his face—was absolutely endearing. She wanted to fall into his arms and plant a kiss on his cheek, but she held back. They still had to get past the awkwardness of this first meeting.
“I—I’m so glad you’re here,” he blurted.
“Me too.” She blushed under his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, as if they could see into her soul. His light brown hair was mussed as he’d pulled off a black bowler hat, but it all made him look more handsome with a touch of boyishness.
[2016] My True Love Page 24
