“I’ll be honest,” Jameson smiled. “I’ll tell them that their spitfire mother couldn’t leave well enough alone and that because of that evident fact, I was blessed with the most amazing woman I’m sure God ever created.”
“You’re embellishing.”
“Probably a little bit,” he grinned. “But not for a bad cause. Why, what would you tell them?”
“I’d have to be honest as well mind you. I’d have to tell them about how I found Billy in your factory and that I was all ready to set you straight on the matter. Then I’d have to tell them about how shocked you were and how you not only remedied the situation, you kept your promise to be transparent by corresponding with me. I’d tell them about the times we spent apart and how it seemed as if we’d never be on the same page.
“Then I’d tell them how God moved quickly when the time was right to bring us together. How our love has endured despite the incredible hard times and that all of our blessings are because of Him.”
“I think you’d win that set, love.”
“Oh I know I would,” Constance grinned. “I’d also tell them that their father was so desperate to marry me that he had to order me through the mail.”
Jameson laughed and drew his wife to his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as their children read in front of the fire and snow began to fall outside their large picture window. Life was indeed sweet for the Smitz family. And tomorrow, when they held their very first Labor of Love fundraiser, which sought to raise money to stop child labor practices, was just going to add to the sweetness.
THE END.
Hope For A Widow
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
“I do,” Elle panted, smiling at the man in front of her. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and her beautiful white dress chafed delicate areas of her flesh, but that didn’t stop the feeling of sweet relief to wash over. “I do,” she repeated, unable to help herself.
Amusement glinted in her new husband’s eyes.
The church they were in was small and rickety, the floorboards and window frames splintered and faded. There were so many people there to watch her and Duncan Aster get married that these men and women were forced to remain standing while pressing against one another; there were even a few people peeking through the windows outside the church.
The day was hot and muggy, and the presence of all of these people made the air in the church all the more suffocating.
Elle knew none of them. These were Duncan’s friends and neighbors, for this was Duncan’s home—Chinnawah, Kansas. She had just gotten off a train from New York City by herself a few days ago. None of her family or friends had followed her, and with any luck, none of them would ever find her.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the pastor said. He stood before the both of them more like an altar than a person, his arms spread wide and his head held high.
Duncan leaned forward, and Elle met him the rest of the way. The kiss was brief and gentle, but it made a reassuring warmth shoot through her body. She was finally his wife; she was finally Mrs. Aster. It was as if Eleanor “Elle” Mayweather had faded away in the midst of this rebirth of sorts. Perhaps now she and her unborn child were truly safe.
The people applauded and cheered, backing away as best as they could so that Elle and Duncan could actually exit the church.
The pastor said some more words, but Elle couldn’t hear him over the crowd. She just let a grinning Duncan grab her hand and lead her toward the church doors.
At this point in her pregnancy, Elle merely looked a little round—a little bloated. Thank God Duncan didn’t seem to care. She couldn’t go back to New York if he had turned her down the moment she stepped off that train to meet him, and she didn’t think she could survive in the west with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, her sack of other items, and the fetus growing inside of her.
Thank God Duncan hadn’t taken back his proposal—the one he made to her in his last letter to her. She would admit to having basically coerced it out of him. They had only written back and forth to each other a few times, and neither one of them truly knew the other, but Elle didn’t have the time to take things slow. She had had to leave New York City as soon as possible.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said as they walked back to his—to their home.
Duncan had a small house on the outskirts of town. It could be seen from the church—out in the dirt-covered valley, the horizon seeming to slice through it from the angle Elle was seeing it at. There were no other homes near this place, nor any barns. It was just a house and its land, and that was just fine with Elle.
Duncan snorted at her. “You’re being kind.”
“Obviously,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand as she bumped into him. “I’m a kind person. I can’t be anything but kind.”
He turned to her and gave her a playful smirk. Though she hadn’t initially cared if Duncan was handsome or not, she had been delighted to discover that he was. He had a strong jaw, piercing blue eyes, and a well-toned body that made her shiver in all kinds of ways. But the best part about him was how easy going he was. He didn’t intimidate her, nor pressure her, and that was what really mattered in the end.
Thinking of this, Elle glanced over her white dress as they continued to walk. It was getting stained by the orange and brown dirt that blew through the wind, especially around the dress’s bottom trim. However, she wasn’t bothered by it, nor was Duncan. Duncan had given her the dress as a formality, and neither one of them felt too emotionally connected to it. Perhaps if he had courted her the more proper way, she might have felt differently about it. Maybe they both would have.
They continued on in companionable silence after that. Once they were inside the house, Elle began to unzip and shimmy out of her dress. Being bold wasn’t new to her, but she still felt a tinge of nervousness jitter within her stomach. This was going to be hers and Duncan’s first time, after all.
Standing in the entryway, Duncan gaped at her. The sunset casted bright orange light through the house’s windows, making the furniture within the home seem to glow with an orange-ish, yellowish hue.
It was a nice setting, Elle thought as she peeled out of her poofy and stained dress. It relaxed her, even as she mentally prepared herself for her upcoming wedding night.
“Elle,” Duncan said, his eyes conveying conflicting emotions. “We don’t…I mean, if you’re not ready…”
In her undergarments now, Elle walked over and grabbed both of his rugged hands. Her heart hammered in her chest as her skin began to seep out more sweat. However, as nervous as she was about all of this, she was even more nervous about not getting this process over with. After all, it was imperative that Duncan believe that the child in her womb was his.
“Come on, honey,” she whispered, keeping her mouth open a little. She took deep breaths and forced her body not to quiver. “I’ve been waiting so long for you.”
Duncan still looked unsure. Perhaps he had never been with a woman before; perhaps he was insecure. Or perhaps he was simply trying to look out for her. No matter what the case, Elle recognized that she would have to be gentle and reassuring.
“I want this,” she said, smiling. “If you want to take this slow, we can take it slow. I won’t bite.”
He huffed at that, shaking his head. “We’ll take it slow.”
She nodded, her smile softening.
He visibly relaxed before nodding in return. “Okay.”
When she tugged him toward her, he followed and immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. She moved her head upward and kissed him. As promised, she moved slowly against him. It was actually kind of calming, the way they seemed to synch to one another so readily.
Then their kiss grew hungrier—needier. She moaned, bringing her hands up to claw into his scalp.
Whatever reservations Duncan had had, they were clearly gone as he pulled and pushed her toward their bedroom.
*
**
Duncan lived off of his family’s money, unbeknownst to them—or, well, they probably knew by now. Either way, he kept his purchases cheap and his lifestyle manageable, so he hadn’t had to worry too much about finding a job just yet. And at times, he would sell some of his old things or barter with the neighbors, and that worked out fine with him. It had been lonely way to live though. He had enough money to last him years, but no one to share it with. He certainly couldn’t return home, and the people in town were either married or uninterested in someone as closed off and lazy as him.
Putting an ad for a wife in the paper had been a Hail Mary, and Elle’s response had been a miracle.
She wasn’t what he thought she would be; she was simple, flexible, undemanding, patient—a lovely woman, through and through. He had some doubts when he first sent his proposal to her, but she had been so eager to leave her city-life behind, and he had grown very curious about what she looked like and what she sounded like. He also was tired of his own loneliness, and even a little desperate to make it cease.
The moment he officially met Elle at the train station, Duncan hadn’t been disappointed. She was beautiful and charming. She had worn a baby blue dress and a dark bonnet, her vibrant eyes somewhere in between those two colors. And she was so straight-forward with him about every little thing—how she felt, what she wanted—and the way she flirted with him…at times, she actually had him blushing and stuttering like a schoolboy.
He could definitely fall for this woman. And now, a few days after their wedding, life was already better. Sleeping next to her seemed to be giving him pleasant dreams again, and hearing her walk around the house soothed the weariness out of his heart. Air was easier to breathe, despite the fact that the summer was muggy.
Sitting on the porch’s front steps, Duncan sipped from the glass of ice-cold lemonade Elle had brought out for him. He stared at the distant town with a hazy kind of awareness. The heat made the air warp and jiggle, and he watched it with curiosity while the beverage in his gut cooled him. So content, he thought he might just let himself drift off then and there—fall asleep in an awkward sitting position. Elle would wake him if she needed him. The thought had him smiling.
As if thinking her name had summoned her, Elle opened the front door and walked toward him. By the time he was turning to regard her, she had already plumped herself down next to him. She clutched his arm with both of her small hands, and he couldn’t help but smile wider in response.
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. She didn’t seem perturbed, rather calculating. Before he could ask her what was wrong, her expression broke out into one of pure joy and excitement. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
Duncan’s stomach dropped, and he nearly lost his grip on his glass. “Wha—?” It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend her words, and when he did, he furrowed his brow. “How could you know so soon? We just had…we…” He cleared his throat. Normally, he wouldn’t be so embarrassed about subjects like this, but Elle had made him…softer, in lack of a better term. “Is that possible?”
“Woman’s intuition,” she said proudly, still beaming at him. “Isn’t this great? We’re going to have a family. A little boy or a little girl.” She bounced a little in her seat, her grip on his arm tightening.
It wasn’t that Duncan hadn’t expected to have children with Elle, but he thought that it wouldn’t happen until much, much later. Hell, when one of his neighbors’ wives got pregnant, the two of them had been married for over three years. And when Duncan’s parents first conceived him, they had been married for eight months.
“Unbelievable,” he said, forcing himself to smile. He glanced her up and down, confused. “Are you sure? I mean…that’s awfully fast, don’t you think?”
“Trust me, darling,” Elle said, leaning against his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his jaw. “A woman knows when she is carrying a child.”
Duncan couldn’t think of a response to that. He supposed it made sense, not that he knew much about pregnancies or women’s anatomies. He gulped down the rest of his lemonade, the icy liquid sending pleasant chills throughout his torso and gut. It wasn’t quite as effective as a shot would have been to numb his sudden stress, but it was fine enough. And it was all he had at the moment.
“Are you alright?” she asked him, her tone much softer now. “You look worried.”
He lowered his glass and coughed up some lemon-flavored spittle. “I’m fine.” He nearly winced at his choice of words, and instead turned and grinned at her. “I’m really happy. I’m going to be a father.”
“It is exciting, isn’t?” She patted his shoulder. Then her entire expression shifted into something casual, as if the last few moments hadn’t even occurred. “Alright, I’m going to start making lunch. Is there anything in particular you feel like eating today? Preferably something that goes good with lemonade. I made a lot of that.”
He shook his head, and before he knew it, she was bounding up the porch’s steps and back into the house.
Duncan sighed, his chest constricting. He had been a terrible, terrible son to his own father. How could he raise a child? He wasn’t quite sure if he was a good husband yet. Elle seemed happy enough, but she also sometimes felt distant. Although, how could he blame her? They had only been with each other for a few days now.
He pressed his hand over his eyes. The summer heat sank into his flesh, and his heart thumped a little faster and a little harder. The idea of being trapped—having nowhere to escape, no options to consider—it constricted his throat a little, and a wheeze of a breath crawled out of his mouth.
He was going to be a father. Him. God, he was going to be terrible at it. That poor child. If Duncan had a little more time to prepare—more than nine months—then maybe he could have been okay at it. Maybe. He shook his head, his thoughts running in circles and taunting him.
The front door opened again, making Duncan jump and turn around. Elle was already sitting next to him again, and she was handing him a new glass of ice-cold lemonade.
“You finished your other one in quite a hurry,” she said. She gave him a knowing, gentle smile. “I thought you might like another one.”
Duncan, speechless, lowered the empty glass by his feet before taking the new one and drinking from it. The coolness did seem to untighten some of his guts, and he calmed somewhat.
Fiddling with her hands, Elle released a breath and glanced at her feet. “I’m sorry.”
Startled, Duncan nearly choked on his drink. Swallowing down his last gulp, he loudly cleared his throat and turned to her.
She was trying not to laugh at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think I should have waited to tell you. Let us be married for a while. I understand that this news is shocking. Maybe even overwhelming.”
“No,” he blurted, because that didn’t sound right. He didn’t admit to himself that he would have preferred her waiting at least a couple of weeks before telling him about the unborn baby; he didn’t want to be that big of an asshole. “No, we…there should be no secrets between us.” Ice of the uncomfortable kind encircled his heart, bitterness taunting him within seconds. He rubbed at the sudden discomfort in his chest. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice squeaking a little, “Because I mean, I was shocked, too, when I first realized I was…” She shrugged and glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Everyone expects you to be so overjoyed by such news, but in reality, there is a huge weight that comes with it. It can be scary.” She looked back at him and frowned. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more sensitive about it. I should have given you more time rather than tell you so hurriedly like I just did. I guess I wanted to get it ov…I wanted to tell you. Because there should be any secrets between us—absolutely none.” Sweat coated her brow, and she wiped it away in a rushed manner.
Duncan swallowed thickly, guilt settling in his gut. “It’s not what you think,” he said. With reluc
tance, he felt as if he had to physically push out the following words from his mouth. “I wasn’t…I’m not a very good man. My family doesn’t like me, and I’m worried that I won’t do right by…by our child.” The words made him breathless and dizzy. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “I’ve never treated any kind of responsibility in the right way. How can I raise a child?”
Elle’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a good man,” she said strongly. “You are a good husband. Don’t you ever concern yourself about that.”
It was so tempting to believe her, but she didn’t know the whole story. And he was determined to never let her know, so he nodded and said nothing more.
He stiffened again when he felt her lips against his neck, his jaw—moving their way to his cheek. His entire body flushed, and he turned toward her before he could even think of doing so. She pressed her lips against his then, and he all but molded against her. The actions were so gentle and so affectionate that it warmed his heart.
“I mean it,” she breathed against his lips. “I am very blessed to have met you, Duncan Aster. You are a good man. And you will be a good father. I know it. Trust me.”
Duncan blinked harder, willing his watering eyes to get dry—or, at least, not as moist. He had to remind himself once again that she didn’t know the whole story—that she didn’t truly know him—but despite that, she still made him feel redeemed. Wanted. Good.
“Okay?” she asked, her tone challenging and her eyes gleaming with stubborn determination.
Duncan couldn’t stop himself from nodding. “Okay.”
***
Elle never asked where Duncan got all of his money, and he never told her. In truth, she didn’t really care, so long as he was able to provide for them. And he was. He went out shopping with her, he helped her clean the house—he did a lot of things with her over the next couple of months, things that men didn’t typically do—at least, men that Elle had known. Elle had never met a man as helpful and considerate as Duncan. Back home, everyone was so overworked and busy that they didn’t have time for one another.
[2016] A Bride's Journey Page 24
