Melody
Angel Creek Christmas Brides Series
Book 7
Caroline Clemmons
Copyright © 2019 by Caroline Clemmons. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Introduction
A year ago, five women decided to depart Charleston after the Civil War left them with no real marriage prospects since most of the eligible men left to go west. The women decided to travel together to Angel Creek, Montana as mail-order brides just in time for Christmas. And, that is where our story begins.
But, it’s a year later, and our story is far from over! There are plenty of young, marriageable men left in Angel Creek who are quite envious of the lovely wives their friends managed to secure for themselves. They coax the young brides into recruiting more of their Southern Belle friends to make the long trip north to Montana — for the sole purpose of them becoming happily married by Christmas!
Christmas 2018
Book 1: Charity
Book 2: Julia
Book 3: Ruby
Book 4: Sarah
Book 5: Anna
Christmas 2019
Book 6: Caroline
Book 7: Melody
Book 8: Elizabeth
Book 9: Emma
Book 10: Viola
Book 11: Ginger
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Epilogue
Angel Creek Christmas Brides: Elizabeth
About Jo Grafford
About Caroline Clemmons
Chapter One
Charleston, South Carolina, 1866
Melody set her teacup on the saucer. “I didn’t know what to do when Sarah’s letter arrived. Are you certain I should be the one to go?”
Her long-time friend, Caroline Bishop, reached over to pat her hand. “I know you’d planned to go with Elizabeth, Emma, Viola, and Ginger as had I. Of course, that would have been more fun. Too bad I need to go early, but I don’t mind going alone.”
Caroline leveled a gaze at Melody. “You have to escape Charleston before the sheriff accepts those rumors and arrests you. Dr. Walker needing someone immediately is perfect for you. Elizabeth has more nursing experience but she’s traveling with Viola, Emma, and Ginger.” She poured more tea in each of their cups.
Melody inhaled the scent of the precious tea. She’d missed having the drink. “But, since she has so much knowledge and practice, she is the person Dr. Walker needs and would want.”
“That would leave you vulnerable to the new officials who’ve come here. How anyone could take those gossip reports seriously is a mystery to me.”
Melody’s constant worry kept her on edge. Any minute she might be arrested on false charges. “Many people are, though, and the vile accusations have spread so fast I’m amazed.”
Her friend nodded. “I know, Melody. I’ve heard and refuted the claims. The tale carriers only look at me as if I’m naïve.”
Caroline set her teacup aside. “Consider that Sarah knows each of us and she chose you for the doctor. Trust her judgment. She and Julia must have someone else in mind for Elizabeth. It’s not as if you have no understanding or know-how after years of caring for your grandmother.”
“True, I nursed Nana Fraser for several years in spite of her protests and accusations.” Melody sighed, wishing away so many sad memories. “I’m not afraid to travel alone, but that’s a long trip.” She’d studied a map of the route she’d be going. The distance appeared beyond comprehension, especially for someone who’d never been out of the state.
“I’m sure neither of us will have any trouble on our travels. Just in case, I’m taking a small pistol. According to those who went last year, the worst part will be the bumpy stagecoach ride.” Caroline giggled and rubbed at her hip.
Melody grinned. “I remember Julia’s letters on the trip. She was sure she’d have bruises on her posterior for months.”
Studying the envelope she’d received with Sarah’s letter, she capitulated. She was eager to get away from what was left of her home. She wanted to leave all reminders of the war behind and start a new life. Escaping vicious rumors would be a welcome change—and she was becoming alarmed at the seriousness of the gossip. The sheriff might very well decide to arrest her. She had no money for a lawyer and no way to refute the charges.
“All right, I’ll contact this Dr. Nicholas Walker.”
Caroline took a sip of her tea then set it aside. “Knowing Sarah, she probably almost guaranteed you’d accept. The others so badly want us all there. They hated when Ruby left to go north with her doctor husband and his brother. I suspect the other four panicked and are gathering their long-time friends closer around them.”
Melody stuffed the envelope into her purse. “I’m sure you’re right. From now on they won’t allow anyone else to move away from Angel Creek—ever. I’ll leave as soon as Doctor Walker responds to my letter and I’ve made arrangements. Actually, by the time he and I correspond, probably I’ll only beat the others to Angel Creek by a couple of weeks or so.”
She looked through the window at the lovely view of live oaks from which Spanish moss dangled. The lacey moss she loved swayed with every breeze. Looking out at the Bishop’s enclosed back garden, she could almost believe the war hadn’t destroyed so much of Charleston.
“There you go, Melody, over thinking this. There’s nothing for us here and you know it.”
She snapped from her woolgathering. Not bothering to correct her friend, she didn’t explain why her attention had wandered. Sorrow dogged her from the devastation in their beautiful city and the drastic changes in their lives.
Reassuring her friend, she said, “I’m aware this is our only opportunity to remain with friends while we start over. Don’t think I’m not grateful for the opportunity. I’m tired of being a spinster and want a husband and children and all that goes with them. I’m sick at heart seeing the havoc wrought on our city and won’t mind seeing fresh sights. Having lifelong friends near will make the change so much easier.”
She rose to her feet. “I’d better run along and let you finish packing.” She hugged her friend. “Have a safe journey. Hopefully, I’ll see you in Montana soon.”
Once she left Caroline, she walked the two miles to her home. The closer she came to her land, the more evident were the ravages of war. She skirted rubble still not removed and went to the little building in which she had lived for the past three years. Once it had been the separate kitchen for her family’s lovely home.
The burned remnants of the house stood as a reminder of the Union’s vengeance against Southerners. Those Yankees had burned a swath that d
ecimated miles and miles. She turned her gaze away and concentrated on reaching the kitchen. The scorched and blistered side nearest what had been her home reminded her of how close she’d come to losing even this shelter.
Inside the small building, she sat at the table. The letter writer’s penmanship was well-formed and bold. She tilted the page toward the window and read the page again.
Dear Prospective Bride,
My name is Nicholas Walker and I’m a thirty-year-old doctor. I have dark hair, blue eyes, reach just over six feet in height, and I’ve been told I’m not bad looking. I’m in need of a wife who has nursing experience and can help me with patients as well as manage our home. The clinic is only a few steps from the house, which makes the situation convenient.
I live in a three bedroom home that is quite Spartan. I’m sure a woman’s touch would remedy that. The clinic has room for only one patient but I am in the process of adding rooms for two more as well as expanding the treatment room.
No doubt you will wonder about my habits. I never have over two beers, don’t gamble, and have no outstanding debts. My health is good. I have never struck a woman and will never strike my wife. I intend to be a firm but loving father to any children we may have.
No doubt you lost loved ones in the war. Although I won’t speak of it again, I must warn you that I lost my wife and two children when our home was destroyed by Confederates. I still miss my family every day. Because of the deep abiding love I hold for them, I can only offer fondness in our marriage. If you can accept my terms then I look forward to our union.
Sincerely,
Nicholas Walker
Melody studied the letter then re-read the page. He’d been married before and lost his wife and children. A man of his age would normally have wed. She lowered the letter and gazed out the window.
How badly did she want to escape Charleston? She wanted a husband and a family but wanted that husband’s love. On the other hand, she knew many couples lived long and happy married lives sharing only fondness.
Could she link herself to a man who admitted he would never love her?
Chapter Two
Nick Walker lit a lamp and sank onto his favorite parlor chair. Delivering a baby had required all night and then he’d had his regular hours at his clinic. Perhaps his stamina was lagging even though he was only thirty. Until lately, he’d been able to work thirty-six hours straight with no sleep and bounce back after a nap.
Suspecting part of his problem was despondency, he thought it was aggravated by being alone. Although he’d never love anyone but his late wife, he looked forward to the arrival of his mail-order bride/nurse. He wasn’t certain which part of her duties he cheerfully anticipated the most. Having a wife here to prepare his dinner and talk to him while they ate would be welcome. And, he looked forward to the relief of having her beside him at night.
Hank Daniels, the young apprentice who assisted him, rapped at the door. Hank spent the nights at the clinic when there was a patient in their one room.
Nick groaned before he called, “Come in.” He held up his hand. “Please don’t tell me my services are needed.”
“Sorry to bother you, Doc, but Werner Tate is getting dressed and says he’s going home.”
Nick scrubbed a hand across his face. “Drat his hide. Well, we can’t keep him prisoner. I’ve warned him of the chance of complications if he leaves. He thinks because the pain is less that he’s recovered.”
“Yes, sir, I heard you tell him how the cow ate the cabbage. Some folks are too hard-headed to listen. Reckon he’s one of them.”
“Remind him of my warning, will you? I’d like to sit here a few minutes before I go to bed for much-needed sleep.”
“I’ll repeat your message.” He handed over a few envelopes. “You forgot your mail.”
“Thanks.” He sorted through the stack and chose the one with a Charleston return address. At last, maybe this was the news he needed. Quickly, he opened the missive.
Dear Dr. Walker,
I have the letter you sent via Mrs. Sarah Cassidy’s correspondence.
My name is Melody Fraser. As you requested, I have nursing experience. I am twenty-three, am tall for a woman, and have blue eyes and auburn hair. I am even-tempered and a hard worker.
Charleston suffered greatly in the conflict. I am eager to leave behind all reminders of that horrible war. I hope you will find me satisfactory to be your mail-order bride.
Sincerely,
Melody Fraser
With a smile on his face, he laid the letter on the table beside his chair. Tried as he was, he wrote an answering letter.
Dear Miss Fraser,
I am relieved to receive your letter and look forward to your arrival. The money enclosed is enough for your fare with sufficient left over for meals and for the purchase of warmer clothing than you probably own now. Warm, sturdy boots especially are necessary to keep the feet dry. I’ve been assured that winters in Montana are quite cold and snow can occur from September through late May. Typically, the snow does not last for that duration. We have already received snow on a couple of occasions.
Please let me know your arrival time so I can meet the stage. I’m sure you are aware that the stage portion of the journey is tedious. It does afford a good view of the countryside and that should help pass the time.
I look forward to your arrival,
Nick Walker
He opened the desk drawer and pulled out the bills he had ready. When they were inserted into the envelope, he sealed it with wax. He’d send Hank to post the letter tomorrow. For now, all he wanted was rest.
Melody stood at her grandmother’s headstone after laying chrysanthemums on her family’s graves. A soft breeze fluttered through the trees nearby and stirred the leaves littering the grounds. She’d come for a final farewell. Her grandmother was resting next to her grandfather. He was next to Melody’s father, who was next to her mother. Spaces remained in the family plot, intended for Melody and her husband and possible children.
Her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Barlow, was called Miss Hattie by those who knew her well. Miss Hattie leaned on her cane at Melody’s elbow.
“You’re still leaving tomorrow, is that right?”
Melody turned to face the kindly woman. “There’s nothing here now that Nana Fraser is gone. Even if I had the money to pay the taxes, there’s no point in doing so. You know how those Yankees burned the house and I don’t have the money to rebuild. Besides, I can’t work the land alone.”
“Oh, don’t I know? What would I have done if my son hadn’t been able to have me live with him after my home burned? I suppose you were lucky the kitchen didn’t go up in flames, too.”
“That’s true. At least we’ve had a roof over our heads, such as it is.”
Miss Hattie placed a frail hand on Melody’s arm. “I hate to see you gone, but I think you’ll do better far away from here. You know some folks around here are still talking you murdered your grandma so you wouldn’t have to nurse her anymore.”
The reminder stabbed her heart. “I loved my grandmother for who she was when she was in her right mind. The doctor diagnosed her with hardening of the arteries years ago.”
Miss Hattie nodded. “Oh, yes, since before your folks were killed. I remember when her mind started slipping and how sad it made me. She’d ask me the same thing I’d just told her. It was annoying but, like you said, we tolerate such things in our friends for who they are in our hearts.”
“Having her beloved home burn cost what was left of her sanity. But, I still loved her and took the best care of her I knew how.”
The other woman nodded. “You did a fine job of nursing her with love and consideration. I saw how gentle you treated her even when she was at her most cantankerous behavior. I swan, toward the end that was most of the time.”
Miss Hattie patted Melody’s arm. “Don’t think I don’t know how well you tended your grandmother. No, but there’re folks had grudges against your grandpa and yo
ur daddy. They’d like to take ’em out on you. I’m just warning you they’re still grumbling that you ought to be in jail or hanged.”
Melody hated the way people had been acting since her grandmother’s death. Not everyone, of course, but too many. “They can grumble all they want as long as they leave me alone. Soon I won’t be here for them to speculate about whether I did or didn’t poison Nana.”
“I forgot where it is you’re goin’, child.”
“As you suggested, I will be far away. You remember some of the girls I went to school with before the war went to Montana to marry?”
Miss Hattie nodded.
“Montana Territory was never involved in the war so I’ll escape constant reminders. Our friend Julia—you remember she was a Hamel before she married—wrote to my friend Caroline Bishop that there are still single men in need of wives there. But, it was through Sarah Caldwell, now Cassidy, that a doctor named Nicholas Walker has sent for me. I’m glad I’ll be living in town where I can visit with my friends.”
“Oh, but Montana? Brrr, I heard weather gets mighty cold up there.”
Melody glanced at the woman who’d been a family friend decades longer than Melody had been alive. “When people think you’re a murderess, Charleston can be a mighty cold place, too.”
“Oh, sweet child, I reckon that’s true and I’m sorry as can be about that. My grandson said tomorrow he’s bringing a wagon to help you get your trunks to the train station.”
Melody smiled at the thought of starting over. “He is. It’s a long journey—first by train then taking a steamboat up the river, and then by stagecoach. The place is called Angel Creek. Isn’t that a hopeful name?”
“Why, yes, and I like the thought of a town that would bear such an inspiring name as Angel Creek. Positive for a fact, isn’t it? Write and let me know you got there all right. In one of her last lucid moments, your grandmother asked me to look after you.”
Melody Page 1
