The Wrong Bride_A Christmas Mail Order Bride Romance

by Natalie Dean

  “Will that be all you’ll be traveling, Miss Samuelson? Short distances?”

  “That all depends. You still haven’t said the right words yet, Mr. Marston.”

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Hmm,” she said, “Was that so hard?”

  “Not as hard as I thought it would be.”

  When they arrived in Boulder, Greta sought out the Nelson’s wagon. They were all set to travel, and only waiting for the signal to forge ahead. Lizbeth hugged her excitedly. “Are you ready? Are you coming?”

  Greta smothered the dear girl’s head with kisses, then drew back and looked into her eyes. “No, Lizbeth, I’m not going. I’ve thought about it and … Well, we’re getting married!”

  Lizbeth squealed with delight. “He did it! He asked you! How can I leave now? I have to go to a wedding!”

  Chapter 8

  Sometimes, wishes do come true. The heavy, gray clouds squeezed and pushed themselves together throughout the night and into the next morning. During the late afternoon of the next day, snow began to fall. In the mountains high above them, a blizzard was forming, and the wagon train would have to wait until after Christmas before continuing on its way to Oregon.

  Nobody was particularly disappointed. The holiday season was hitting a high note in Boulder, with the wealthier people lighting an extravagant number of candles and decorating a large tree in the middle of the town square. The shops were overflowing with business, and the streets overflowing with well-wishers, both the inebriated and the sober.

  Greta unfolded the wedding dress that had been carefully packed away for the occasion. In accordance with the frugality of her upbringing, it had been made of muslin instead of silk, but her mother had spent long hours embroidering tiny flowers, and tailoring the pleats and seams to make an intricate, puffed sleeves design, with a long, gathered skirt and lace train.

  “Well, put it on,” encouraged Lizbeth. “Let’s see how it looks.”

  “We were going to add pearl buttons,” explained Greta, slipping into the dress. “But they were expensive, and we ran out of funds.”

  “I can help you with that.” Lizbeth looked critically at the way the dress fell. “You’ll want the hem a little higher, or you’ll soil it with your boots.” She marked a spot with a pin. “Imagine! A Christmas wedding! Mrs. Haldeman put wreaths on all the pews. What a pity though, there won’t be any flowers.”

  “We shall make some out of paper, and we’ll place ice lanterns along the path to the church. And there will be peppermints and chocolates. How much more could we want?”

  Lizbeth finished marking the hem, then stood up to hug Greta. “I’m so glad you introduced me to Hannah. I’m not going to leave with the wagon train, after all. I’m going to stay with Hannah after the Nelson’s leave. She’s going to make the dress designs, and I’m going to be the seamstress.”

  Greta gave her a look that was both a mix of surprise and amusement, then began to chuckle.

  “Greta, don’t laugh. I feel confident I can do this.”

  “No, I’m not laughing at you! I think it’s wonderful. You’re an excellent seamstress. I’m just excited I’ll have my two best friends just ten miles away. We’ll visit often, and when you marry, I’ll be your maid of honor.”

  “Now don’t hold your breath on this. Who says I’m the marrying kind?”

  “I saw the way you were flirting with one of the young men from the wagon train. In fact, I hear this very same young man plans to settle here. He’s been asking around about jobs.”

  “There are plenty to be had so you can’t really call that surprising.”

  “And I noticed a new fur muff when you came in. He gave that to you as a Christmas present, didn’t he?”

  She giggled suddenly. “And he kissed me under the mistletoe.”

  Greta pretended to be scandalized. “He didn’t!”

  “Oh, but he did, and it was quite a thrill.”

  “I must remember to throw my bouquet directly at you in order to keep you an honest woman.”

  “Then you are having flowers!”

  A smile of delight broke over Greta’s face. “Mrs. Haldeman ordered them.”

  Following the wagon train, the wedding between Greta and Joseph was the most talked about event of the year. It was the largest wedding the settlement had seen, with guests coming from Boulder, including nearly the entire educational administration, the wagon train itself, the mining camp and the parish.

  They celebrated it the day before Christmas, with the snow piling high against lamp posts decked out cheerily with red ribbons. The church had overdone itself to provide holiday cheer with festive decorations and an enormous feast that even included plum pudding.

  Greta remembered all of it in a blur, except four primary moments. The first was watching little Jonah walk up the aisle with the ring, his grin of happiness nearly splitting his face. How much he had changed in the few weeks she had known him. He was now on the same level with other children his age and joined in their games, although he still became confused at times.

  The second time was when Joseph had said “I do,” and lifted back her veil to kiss her. With that kiss, everything she had been through slipped away and became a permanent part of the past. This truly was a new beginning; a fresh start. She wrapped her arms around his neck with joy, feeling his warm breath against her lips. “I love you. I truly love you,” he whispered into her ear. “I loved you from the first day I first met you.”

  Greta pressed against him, feeling his heart beat rapidly against her own. It felt like the whole world was watching, along with the sun and the moon, and the birds that fluttered by, twittering. She felt his strong arms support her back, then slowly release her, all the while gazing into her eyes. “I love you too, Joseph Marston. From the first day I heard your name, I knew that I would love you.”

  The third moment came as they walked down the aisle. Somebody gave a cheer and little Jonah said quite clearly, “It’s about time!” The ceremony, which had seemed so somber and dignified, broke into peals of laughter. After cutting the cake and starting the formal dance, Greta and Joseph dashed to their buggy, decked out with autumn leaves and paper flowers. The guests broke into their own groups of celebrators, with the sober, church-going community waiting after the feast for the candlelight service, while the miners and their women clustered together and headed for the nearest tavern.

  The fourth moment was the clearest one of all. It was the moment Joseph gathered her in his arms and carried her over the steps into their home. Their home. It had been Joseph’s home. Now it was theirs. Now she would fill it with her woman crafts, tend to the garden, grow flowers and apple trees as well as vegetables. Maybe they would have children of their own. She hoped so. “I want four boys,” she said, cradling his face in her hands. “And I want them all to look like you.”

  “I want four girls,” answered Joseph. “And I want them all to look like you.”

  He picked her up again, sweeping her around and hugging her tight. He kissed her repeatedly on her neck, on her face, and in her hair as his hand burrowed in close to her scalp. He carried her into his room; the only room in the house she had never been in before, and closed the door.

  In the darkness, lit only by the snow collecting around the window, he untied the ribbons of her blouse and let it fall away from her shoulders, while his lips nuzzled her neck. She drew her head back, allowing his mouth free roam, her skin prickling with the new experience. In one sweeping movement, he gathered her up and laid her on the bed. The soft, down mattress folded in around her and she reached up, taking all of him with her until she tumbled down, down into a dizzying tunnel of delights, visions, and dreams.

  Greta had slept late. It had quit snowing, but the sun peered down as blearily on the landscape as she felt. Joseph was up already. She could smell the coffee brewing. She struggled quickly into a dress and pulled on her wool stockings. When she entered the living room, she stopped in surprise. “Lester?”<
br />
  The young man, who had been playing with the puppy, looked up and gave her a broad grin. “How have you been, little sister?”

  “When did you get here?”

  “Early this morning. I was ready to pound this unscrupulous ruffian until he told me he had done his sworn duty. I was distressed to receive your letter, Greta. Instead of leaving you in the hands of strangers, I thought I would come for you straight-away. It seems I’m a little too late.”

  “Not late at all, Lester! It’s Christmas, and I’ve received everything I could possibly wish for, especially now that you’re here.”

  Sometimes, wishes do come true. Sometimes, it’s the magic of Christmas because it’s a time of belief and a time of sharing. Sometimes it’s because the wish is made with so much love, it just seems to reach out and pull everyone together. The town would remember the Marston wedding as the biggest they’d ever seen. The wagon train would remember it as the one that brought them Christmas. For Greta and Joseph, it was a reminder to always love freely and have faith in Christmas miracles.

  THE END

  Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed the book, please take the time to leave a review on Amazon. Even if it’s just a sentence or two. It would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated.

  Afterword

  The bonus story you just read is book 1 of Natalie Dean’s Boulder Brides series. Book 2 is already available in the Kindle store - The Independent Bride. Book 3 is soon to follow : )

  Lottie: Brides of Bannack Book 1

  By Natalie Dean

  Book Description

  LOTTIE

  Brides of Bannack Book 1

  A Western Romance Short Story

  Lottie Cahill is a headstrong, fiery redheaded orphan on the run from her past. Headed out west to Montana, she’s ready to start her new life as a mail order bride. Then things take a turn for the worst. Seems like bad luck follows her from one place to the next.

  Doc McLennon isn't looking for love, but when Lottie comes to town, Doc keeps finding himself right in her path. The more he's around her, the more he realizes what he's been missing.

  Together, Lottie and the good doc make a discovery that could leave her stranded. Will they be able to solve this mystery? Or will someone destroy them before they get a chance? And will Lottie finally get the family she's longed for all her life?

  Chapter 1

  Lottie Cahill was sitting in a luxurious rail car. The only other people in the car were there to serve her. The velvet curtains and pelmets that lined the windows and the seats made her feel like a queen. She felt like she was sinking into her seat, it was so comfortable as it enveloped her. A glass of champagne and some canapes sat on the table in front of her. The rocking of the train hardly perceptible. "This is the life," Lottie said to herself. She could leave all the sadness and filthiness of the city behind.

  The journey was a little rockier than she expected it to be. She could feel her body sway from side to side. Something was jarring at her, but she wanted to push it to the back of her mind. No, she was very comfortable here, as the train whisked her towards her fiancé. She jolted and rocked out of her reverie, Lottie opened her eyes. It had been a dream. She wanted to cry as she looked around the box car that housed her. There were at least two other families in the space with her. The cheapest rail option was for families banded together. But, it lacked any seats and smelled of the animals who had previously occupied it. Cattle would fill it on its return journey to the city.

  "Why couldn't I have slept longer?" Lottie sighed. She watched the children playing. One of the children came running towards her, "Miss, mama wants to know if yer hungry?" Lottie nodded with tears flowing down her cheeks and cried. She hadn't eaten in two days.

  Hungry, tired and sweating was not how she had planned her trip. The little girl returned with some lard and bread. Lottie nodded to the mother who had sent it her way. She said a silent prayer to thank God for the food she was about to eat. The side door of the box car was open, and the air that came through was warm.

  The landscape had changed since she had fallen asleep. She took her mind back to a few days ago when she thought the world was her oyster as she set off on the start of her new life. Lottie's fiancé, Frank Ward, had promised her the best that money could buy. "Lottie, are you sure you want to leave the city?" Mary Jones asked her. "Where else can I go, Mary? He's ruined my reputation, and I'll never get work as a nurse again. Not in the city. Anyway, I'm tired of not having anything of my own. Don't cry. I wouldn't change a thing from that night. I had to save you, Mary." Mary collapsed into tears. Lottie was right. Only for her intervention, her beau would have strangled the life out of her. She owed her life to Lottie.

  But Lottie had paid a terrible price, and now she was heading to the middle of nowhere. "Maybe you'll join me at some stage, Mary. I thank you for giving me the idea of being a mail order bride. It's working out for the best. My fiancé has a farm, and for once I'll be working towards something of my own that no one will ever take away from me. He says there's a ball in Fort Benton in two months time and we're going. Imagine it, Mary. Me, at a ball. This is my new life now."

  Mary and Lottie were walking to the train station. Lottie was getting a train which would lead her from Chicago to Butte in Montana. From there a stage coach would take her to a town called Bannack. Her fiancé, Frank Ward, wired her fare to the Western Union office. Only the best for her, he had written in his letters which she kept in her girdle close to her heart.

  Mary stood back as Lottie went to the ticket office. She watched as Lottie seemed to remonstrate with the ticket seller. She could tell from Lottie's face that something was wrong. "Mary, you won't believe it. The incompetence of some people." Lottie was shaking with annoyance.

  "What is it?" Mary asked.

  "They said Mr. Ward only wired enough money to cover my fare in a boxcar. That cannot be. He promised me a comfortable passage. I do have a little bit of money, but I wanted that for when I get to my new home. Could they have made a mistake?"

  "I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. I know it's much cheaper to go in the box car. You'll be with families, but at least you'll be on your way. Is this the one?" Lottie and Mary stood beside one of the boxcars. Some families were already ensconced, and children were running around. Lottie and Mary said their goodbyes.

  "Let me help you, Miss," the man offered his arm and Lottie was yanked up into the boxcar. "Find yerself a corner, Miss."

  Was it a mistake? Or was Frank someone who pretended to have more than he really had? Lottie didn't have much expectation from life. She looked around her. While disappointed that Frank had made promises he didn't fulfill, she was used to making do.

  Her life had started in tragedy with her mother dying in childbirth. She grew up in a Catholic orphanage and knew nothing of her family. Other than her being Irish with her fiery red hair and green eyes. Lottie was feisty and couldn't abide the weak being taken advantage of. She had a tendency to step in if she felt someone was being bullied. Her skills in the infirmary and her gentleness, helped Lottie catch the eye of one of the benefactors.

  He paid for her nursing education on the condition that she nurse him. It was a taxing job. More than anything else, Mr. Peabody was lonely. Lottie knew his failing health was more to do with a broken heart and grief than any physical cause. He missed his wife who had passed on. While he was a good man, his son, Daniel, was very different. It was because of him that Lottie was leaving the city.

  One night as Lottie was taking some medicine to Mr. Peabody, she heard his son Daniel come home. He had a lady friend who was giggling. Later in the night, Lottie heard the woman scream, and she ran to her aid. Lottie picked up the fire poker and smacked Daniel Peabody with it. Her shock heightened when she discovered the woman was Mary Jones, a girl from her orphanage. The nuns had always told Mary she'd get into trouble with men. Mary had cuts and bruises. As Lottie lead Mary away, Daniel was nursing
his shoulder and screamed at Lottie for interfering.

  Lottie never paid him much heed before and wasn't going to start now. As she took Mary to her room to tend to her wounds, Lottie presumed that would be the end of it. She was certain Daniel Peabody wouldn't want his father to know about his behavior. Lottie was safe while Mr. Peabody was alive.

  Unfortunately, two days later, her benefactor was dead. Now she was afraid. Daniel called her into the drawing room. It was then that she started asking questions. "But have the police investigated his death? I do not think his death was natural."

  "Then the blame will fall on you, Miss Cahill. You don't want an investigation into my father's death, I can assure you of that." His cold eyes and tone sent shivers down Lottie's spine. Could he have killed his father?

  "You are to leave this house immediately…" Daniel continued.

  "But certainly you can give me time to find a new…" Lottie had interrupted Daniel, and now he interrupted her by putting his hand up.

  "There will be no other position in this city for you. I will discretely spread my doubts about father's death. You oversaw his medicines. Don't even think about applying to any of the hospitals either. Furthermore, you will not receive any references from me. That will teach you…Lottie…not to interfere with another person's business."

  Unfortunately, Lottie didn't have much in the way of friends, so she found herself wandering the streets. Her few belongings were in the little case she held in her hand. Mary was the only person Lottie could call upon for help. So, that’s what she did. It was at this time that Mary told her about the new lives people could have out West. It was then decided, Lottie would be a mail order bride. And it had come to be. Lottie had found a farmer in need of a wife. Lottie was sure her nursing skills would come in handy out West. Every day people re-invented themselves, and now it was her turn. Only this re-invention had not started very well.