[2016] The Precious Amish Baby

by Faith Crawford

  Aidan and Cara still looked relatively young. Aidan was forty-five, Cara thirty-five. They loved each other intensely and the bond between them was growing stronger with each passing year. The girls had Aidan’s intensely blue eyes and Cara’s shiny, smooth brown hair. They were going to grow up to be beauties.

  As for Melissa, she returned to working at the saloon where she had performed before as a can-can girl. She eventually was lucky enough to marry the owner of the saloon.

  One day, while Aidan was away in town on an errand and the girls were at school, Cara took out an old yellowed letter from her friend Alva that she had hidden behind a loose brick and re-read it:

  Dear Cara,

  I have just the answer to your problem. A young man from Boston, who is originally from the same town in County Cork as I, recently went to California to make his fortune on the banks of the American River. He is a good friend of mine and writes to me regularly. He said that he often goes to Brannan’s saloon in the evenings. You cannot miss him, he is a tall, handsome, muscular fellow with brown hair and green eyes. You could make an investment in your future with Aidan and try to show him that all that glitters is not gold. Melissa is no doubt just a gold-digging wench who only is interested in Aidan because he found a gold nugget as you told me. You should approach Sean and offer to pay him in gold if he makes sheep’s eyes at Melissa and wrenches her away from Aidan.

  One evening shortly after she had received the letter, Cara had gone to the saloon, on the pretext of going to visit a lady for whom she had done some sewing in the past. There she immediately saw the muscular young man. Cara had gone even further than what Alva had suggested. She had purchased a large nugget of fool’s gold and given it to Sean. She wanted Sean to show it to Melissa so that Melissa would be hooked. She paid him half the amount in gold in advance and would pay him the rest after Aidan was finally able to see the truth about Melissa.

  Cara placed the letter behind the brick. She then sat at the dining table with her head in her hands, gazing out the window at the apple trees in the orchard. She thought about her siblings and her parents, far away in Ireland. Her dream was to bring all of them to America. But the bond that they felt with the land was too strong. They had made it through the potato famine and they didn’t show any inclination of coming to the New World. She would have to make do with getting photos and letters from them.

  Maybe one day, when her children were grown up, she would return to Ireland for a visit. Cara fantasized about how she would jump for joy to see Ireland’s emerald landscape once more and embrace her family with great affection after many years. She sat there lost in reverie, till her husband came back and took her in his arms, as he did quite often. They embraced each other in the living room and then went back to their ordinary duties, their hearts light and eager and their souls full of love for one another.

  *****

  THE END

  Bonus Book 3: The Billionaire's Surprise

  By: Faith Crawford

  Description

  A young woman escaping her family, a lonely billionaire looking for a bride, and dreams waiting to come true.

  Louis is a successful yet frustrated man, with everything one could want except the woman of his dreams...

  His impossible standards limit him from finding love among friends, acquaintances and friends of friends. He wants a woman of a particular grace and beauty. He wants someone who will serve his needs exactly as he requires. He wants to be the strong man of the house.

  A friend’s chance encounter with love helps him find a way to secure his ideal wife. He follows the course of destiny as he tries to win her. He spurns convention in an effort to have his cake and eat it too.

  The love of his life, in turn, must face some hurdles of her own—including Louis himself.

  Esther is much younger than Louis, but strong. She wants to escape her dominant father by responding to a mail order bride ad. But she also seeks love and adventure.

  Together, as well as apart, they meander through the interruptions that life brings them. One thing they both want is a family to call their own. Their relationship is tested as they try to build something that will last. Soon, they doubt whether they were ever meant for each other. Will their love last?

  Chapter One

  Louis

  I have just received another invitation in the mail. It contains yet another joyful announcement that I should promptly respond to. I can imagine them now. She has an envious sister perched on her shoulder as she attempts to choose the fabric that will make the most coveted gown she will ever wear. A proud mother eggs her on, “It’s too bland. That looks too cheap. This just might do.” He is up to his knees in bills he wants to settle prior to ushering a demanding bride into a new home. I know him. He’s the economic kind. He’ll be counting his pennies for the rest of his life while she spends them to her heart’s content. At times like these, I find myself torn between the two polar opposites of regret and relief. Regret, because I have not fulfilled my duties as a man and as a son. I have only met my responsibilities halfway. The company is performing quite favorably. But there is no wife to boast of and no son to pass it down to. Relief, because I am not encumbered by the demands of a woman who will want the comfort of my presence always but might shun me if my efforts all fail. I am at such peace on my own. If marriage was not a requirement of a respectable man, I would not think twice. But then there are many things I would do differently if I had a choice. Let’s see. I might fire the staff—all except Jeffrey—and throw my mother into an asylum. I would have no use for them after she’s gone. I might board up the windows of my house and peruse the pages in this vast library for the rest of my days. Or I might go out to an exotic nation and build myself a sanctuary where no one knows me. The point is, I would be free.

  Perhaps I am simply a coward who could be as free as he wanted to be if he allowed himself a modicum of power. Instead, the authority remains vested in my lioness of a mother. I envy Teddy, who has always managed to disappoint her without a care in the world. The stubble was barely showing on his chin when he left home to become a sailor. There are two creatures mother despises on this earth. Only two. One is your regular sailor, and the other is your average lawyer. The rest, she simply dislikes. Mother lost a piece of her soul to the sea when Teddy left. I have to say, he’s the only person I ever miss. Perhaps he would return if he knew I was to marry. If ever I was to marry.

  As for my friends, they are a lost cause. Lost to the institution of marriage. How does a bachelor converse with married men who are only concerned with spoiling their children and keeping their wives happy? So it’s better not to see them unless I will have the opportunity to get them drunk. Only then do they come alive. This is what my relationships have come to.

  All this thinking has left me feeling evil. The taste of mischief lingers in my mouth, which brings to mind the conversation I had with George yesterday. He told me about how he and Sarah met. It sounded like they were pen pals before they were engaged. He sent out an advertisement in the paper, she responded and so the romance began. The fit mother would have if I secured her future daughter-in-law in that way… But needs must. I’m pushing forty and there remains little to no progress on that front. Well, there’s Montgomery’s girl. But she’s far too young, if quite eager for her age. Although for what, I don’t know. To marry a man more than twice her age, when she could have a young man with thrice my net worth? Mother says the girl may have located my softer side. Well, if she has she must let me know where to find it, because I didn’t think I had one.

  She’s a pretty little thing, I have to admit. Bewitching blue eyes. And I’d love to bury my face in that thick, brown hair. I would visit her every night for a week if she lived in a brothel. But as a wife? No. I would be terrified to find out what company she keeps whenever I travel. One should never have so arresting a partner. I would die from jealousy. If I should share my house with one woman for life, I want a loyal and reliable companion. The
martyr type who would remain by my side through bankruptcy and strife, mistresses and too much wine. I love women like that. They are gentle when you need it and strong when you’d rather not be. As a bonus, she must bear approximately five offspring for me. Two daughters to dote on and three sons to torment. And then my work on this earth would be complete.

  I really might have to sit down and pen an advertisement of my own. What would I say? Something endearing. Something that makes me sound like a kind, yet prosperous gentlemen. I suppose that’s the kind of thing ladies like. Some of them like to go as far as to say that they marry for love, but everyone knows practicality always wins. Besides, what woman wouldn’t rather have a millionaire who adores her than a worker who loves her? Speaking of which, we’ll see how I do on the adoring part of the game. She might not mind missing out on that.

  Chapter Two

  The clock struck six in the evening as Louis stared down at his dinner – or, rather, where his dinner was supposed to be. He could hear the odious sounds of his mother chewing from across the table. The forks and knives, at the mercy of her hands, clanged against the plate, pushing food around before stabbing if violently and shoving it into the old woman’s mouth. Louis kept his head down, not wanting to witness the sight of this attack on a harmless plate of food. He was trying to remember if he had eaten. The cutlery in front of him appeared to have had contact with something brown and something white, but his stomach felt positively empty, just as it usually did before dinner was served. Opening his mouth to ask about this oddity, he suddenly realized that someone else was sitting at the table – someone besides his mother.

  Arranged around the long table were Louis, at the head, and his mother, opposite him at the other end. At her left hand sat a timid-looking woman. The woman had a fork in one hand, but did not seem to be able or willing to use it. Instead, she sat watching the old woman uncomfortably - as if she would rather be anywhere else. Louis realized he had no idea who the frightened young lady was.

  Unexpectedly, Louis’ mother looked up from her dinner and shot a searing glance at the young lady.

  “What are you looking at?” she spat.

  The young lady recoiled in horror before she managed a, “Nothing, Mrs. Weatherf---.”

  Before she could complete those three words, the young lady was clutching at her throat. Mrs. Weatherford, in her fury, had waved a fork at the other woman’s neck – twisting it viciously in the air for effect, then placing it back on the table with great force. The young lady had collapsed to the floor, in an attempt to escape the weapon. It happened so fast that for the first thirty seconds, Louis remained glued to his seat. He could not believe what his eyes were telling him. It was only a while later when he jumped up from his seat and rushed to the young lady’s side. Only then did he get the instinct that this woman was his wife. He looked across at his mother, whose wrinkled visage seemed to be saying, “Serves her right.”

  Louis awoke in a cold sweat. Struggling to catch his breath, he sat up in bed. His heart was still racing wildly, his eyes blind under the cover of darkness. As his sight adjusted to the dark, Louis finally understood that it was only a dream, although it was the kind that felt real from beginning to nightmarish end. He lay back in his bed, relieved. Considering his mother’s attention-seeking ways, he would not be too surprised if this dream ever came true. Light peaked through the blinds as morning broke, bringing with it a foreboding new day.

  ***

  Having recovered from the initial shock of his dream, Louis continued to entertain the idea of securing himself a wife and, thus, an heir. He had little patience for courting women. The way in which he set about accomplishing this would have to be quick and fairly simple. The advertisement his friend had mentioned pushed its way into his thoughts again.

  Louis sat at his desk, as he tended to do right after the morning meal, pulling out a notepad and pen from a drawer. The words made a stingy voyage from the pen to the blank piece of paper. After a dozen tries, he finally wrote something he was pleased with:

  Seeking a lovely young woman with average looks. A wife for a wealthy bachelor. Promising a comfortable life and much love. Contact me if you are fertile and love children.

  He read the words one more time before he grimaced, tore the page off the notepad and began again. This time, he concentrated on all the things Allen had told him about women and what they liked to hear. He disguised his real motives behind poetic and loving speech, forgetting that Allen also said one must mean it. Again and again, he thought about his dream of chasing after a group of healthy offspring. He let it fuel his desire for a wife. He let it drive his need to create an advertisement that would find the right woman. For an added dose of inspiration, he thought about the thrill of doing something his mother would never approve of.

  A quarter of an hour later, he found his genius.

  Chapter Three

  Louis’ exuberance at Allen’s soiree the following week was quite out of character - so much so that his friends began to tease him about his demeanor.

  “So, who is she?” Allen pried, as they gathered in the drawing room.

  Allen Edwards was the only other bachelor in the group of men Louis associated himself with. A doctor who was only just beginning to make a name for himself, he was years younger than Louis. But his wisdom transcended his age and the norms of culture. Allen possessed the kind of insight that, long ago, would have been said to come from the gods. He was also a mysterious man, having materialized about five years ago from God-knows-where. He had no distinct accent to pin him to a particular foreign region. In fact, he sounded like he had been raised locally. Many considered him a danger of some sort for this reason. A stranger with an artificial accent and an unknown background shouldn’t be treating decent townsfolk, they said at first. But, eventually, many found that he was actually a decent doctor. He had a soothing bedside manner that left many patients thinking they were better already. They soon forgot that he was an alien and his practice grew. Another curious thing about Allen was how well he lived. He set himself up in a large house – for a bachelor and medicine man, anyway - with lush gardens and about five household staff and grounds men. Louis often argued that five was not nearly enough for a man with such a fine reputation, but his friend was never one to pay close attention to status and prestige. He only had such a lifestyle because he wanted to. But now that he had enough, he wanted nothing more.

  “I don’t know who ‘she’ is supposed to be,” Louis replied flippantly.

  “What other reason could there be for your change in step?” Allen enquired, frowning.

  “It could be anything, Allen. I could be retiring from this dreadful mining business. Or the roof could be falling on our heads.”

  Allen looked up theatrically to make sure the roof wasn’t falling on their heads, while Louis shook his head at his ridiculous friend.

  “I posted one of those ads in the paper,” Louis whispered to Allen, leaning in slightly. The two men stood aside from the rest of the group in the drawing room, glasses of liquor in their hands.

  “What ads?”

  “Those ads,” Louis emphasized, cocking a chin towards groom-to-be, George.

  Allen’s eyes grew in astonishment. He never thought he would see the day Louis searched for love, let alone in the paper.

  “What’s brought this on?” Allen asked.

  “An heir. I need a son. For the business.”

  “What if you have a daughter?”

  Louis snorted, “I won’t. And that’s beside the point. The thing is, I don’t like any of the women I know. So a complete stranger, at least one of those who replies to the ad, should suffice.”

  “Is that how it works?”

  “How else should it work?” Louis said.

  “Well, what about your mother? She’d never approve.”

  “I think I’m old enough not to listen to my mother.”

  “There’s no such thing. Not when she lives with you,” Allen laughed.<
br />
  Louis thought about this for a moment, knowing that Allen was right. Allen’s opinion applied especially to this particular mother.

  “I’ll see what to do about her.”

  “Louis, she will give your new wife hell. It’s something to think about seriously before you start talking with some poor woman about marriage.”

  Louis nodded. He would have to find a way to accommodate both his mother and his wife.

  “Why now?” Allen was asking.

  “If George had posted his ad earlier it could have happened then,” Louis replied simply. “He planted the germ.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes, Allen. That’s all. I’m not a complex man.”

  Louis neglected to mention the nightmares he had every night of the conflict between his mother and imaginary wife, the dreams he awoke to of chasing his children through the garden, or the loneliness that surrounded him when he stepped out of his carriage and walked through the door at the end of a long day overseeing his mines. As his friends began chatting about the trip George had recently taken that led to an encounter with Guglielmo Marconi and his new invention, Louis wondered how it was that their talks seemed to revolve around George and his adventures. But then again, George was the one who always tried new things, Allen never talked about himself and the others insisted on being average Joes. Louis was not sure where his place was in the group. Perhaps he was the grumpy one who usually dissented where others agreed.

  As his mind drifted off, he began to think about Sarah, George’s fiancée. She seemed a kind enough soul and quite pretty. The only thing was her greedy family, always intent on capitalizing on opportunities that might elevate their status in society. Louis did not like them at all. He wondered how George had managed to be so different from his friends – he was a man who had a mind of his own. George had found himself a decent woman out of a pool of strangers that were previously unknown to him and anyone in his sphere of influence. Louis could not help but speculate. What would his own future wife be like?