The Preacher’s Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 4)

by Stella Clark

  It was those eyes. They were more than brown, he decided, for they had flecks of precious gold within them. And when she looked at him, Adam found that they were soft and kind. There was something beautiful about her that he hadn’t noticed upon their first meeting.

  Now, the truth enveloped him. She was lovely. Certainly, in the city, he supposed her nose might be too long and she was otherwise too tall. But in truth, her complexion was quite comely and the curls framing her face only emphasized the dimple on her left cheek. How she had wound up a mail order bride, Adam wasn’t certain he would ever know. But there they were, and there she was.

  There was a stirring within his chest, an unfamiliar sensation that made his insides all uncomfortable. Distracted, Adam turned away and wondered what had come over him. Just because she was an attractive woman didn’t mean he needed to be attracted to her. Or should he be? They were married.

  But it was a marriage of convenience, he reminded himself. And for that, he could have few expectations. The weight in his chest tightened, but Adam didn’t know what to do. He’d never courted a woman before, let alone been married to one. He was fairly certain that she was the first one he’d held hands with, and that had been for their wedding.

  “I’ll put your things away,” he murmured, clearing his throat. Before the girls could protest, Adam snatched up her bags and hurried to his room. Their room. Of course she would be there with him now. Had he woken up that morning realizing there would be someone to join him that night, he might have tried harder to keep it tidy.

  Hurriedly, Adam moved about, reorganizing the room. It was simple, with only a few pieces of furniture and several books. He’d need to adjust things now for Molly. She would be here as well, after all. Adam shook away the strange thoughts. They could talk about it later.

  Leaving, he found Molly attempting to interact with the children. Vera clung to her, but Rose was silent and Thad had more questions than anything else to say. Adam watched them, trying to understand the family he had formed. It was odd, he decided, but Molly looked willing and was spunky. Perhaps this could work.

  Supper was quiet as they gathered at the table to enjoy Mrs. O’Henry’s soup. Still in the habit, Adam led the cleanup while Molly helped Vera prepare for bed. Or rather, she watched and learned what Vera’s nightly patterns were and then sang her a lullaby.

  “It’s late,” Adam realized when Molly joined him in the hall, and their eyes trailed towards the bedroom. He hesitated and led the way. After the door was closed, he glanced at her again to find just how tired she looked. She wouldn’t stop rubbing her hands together as her gaze drifted from him to the bed.

  He swallowed. “The contingencies of a marriage, they are … expected in a typical situation, of course. But upon our, um, unique circumstances, I’d like to let you know that I don’t have … expectations. That is, only for the children. Those three children,” he stammered, feeling the heat crawling up his neck. “We shall share the bed as is appropriate, but … we don’t need to share anything else.”

  Molly’s eyes opened wide. “Ah.” Her hands fell at her sides, no longer anxious. “Oh yes. Of course. That sounds … good. Yes, thank you. Then you’ll … you’ll turn …” She moved to her bags, unable to look at him. It took him a minute to realize she wanted to change privately. But Adam nodded and turned, praying silently as he waited until she was beneath the blankets.

  The candle was blown out and he changed in the dark. Before climbing in, Adam hesitated. This didn’t feel right, something whispered to him. This wasn’t what a marriage was supposed to be. But he was resolved. He would be a decent man and good to his promise. Eventually, Adam tried to convince himself, they might change. That could be for another day.

  Chapter Eight

  She tried to remember the lessons about the kitchen. But Molly had never paid much attention. Cooking and baking were for the house servants, after all. What good would these skills and recipes do her as a Bostonian woman?

  Right now, they would save her a lot of trouble. Now she was paying the price of her foolish nature. If only she could turn back time and learn from every one of her mistakes. However, then she might be leading a very different life, she supposed. And this one was quite interesting.

  Even if she was potentially failing. Molly sniffed the pot a third time and a cloud of regret began to rain down. The first two days in Prairie Sage had been lovely. Adam had made time for her and the children as they’d sorted out the house and duties. But it was the third day, and yet again, she was in charge of supper, only to find something was terribly wrong.

  Was it the cream or was it the cabbage? Molly added another log, hoping to stoke the fire and cook it more quickly. She had been distracted with the new dress Adam had bought for her, forgetting to start the food on time. Now she might be late, with spoiled food.

  “What do you think, Vera?” She turned to the little girl who was clutching her pearls. Molly hadn’t brought much jewelry out, but she’d wanted to show Rose in the hopes of getting the girl to talk. It hadn’t worked, and once Vera had seen them, she wouldn’t let go. The girl had even slept with them.

  In response to the question, Vera put the pearls in her mouth. “No!” Molly groaned, leaving the fireplace. “Please, Vera, don’t. You’ll ruin them. See?” She managed to tug them out of the mouth but not out of the girl’s hands. “Here, shine them for me?”

  The girl clearly could not be unsupervised. She was still a baby. Though she knew mothers at her age, Molly was quickly realizing that nineteen years had not prepared her to be one. A lady, indeed. A mother, not at all. With a groan, Molly sat down.

  She was ruining supper again. Vera wouldn’t leave the pearls alone. And Rose had hardly said a word. It had been less than a week and Molly was already terrible at motherhood. An unsettling knot formed in her stomach. She wished she knew what to do to fix supper. Fix Rose. Or perhaps she just wished she was back home. It was dull, but at least she knew what to expect. There weren’t people relying on her and being disappointed.

  A knock at the door pulled Molly from her self-pitying. Rubbing her sticky hands on the apron, she left Vera on the table. At the door was Mrs. O’Henry with a basket.

  “Good afternoon,” Molly offered, relieved to be out of the kitchen. “Mrs. O’Henry, how lovely to see you again. Would you like to come in?”

  The woman waved a hand. “Oh, don’t you bother. I just wanted to bring you a fresh loaf of bread. Is this a bad time?” Then she sniffed the air. “Something smells rather burnt. Is everything all right?”

  Burnt? How could something be burnt already? But Molly sniffed the air to find the ugly stench of burning food wafting through the house. Dismayed, she turned and could see a tinge of smoke drifting into the hallway.

  “Goodness gracious!” There was no time for decorum as she rushed back. Vera was crying, the pearls were on the floor, and the room was smoky. She picked up the girl, hoping that would help, and then glanced at the pot. The soup had boiled over and was flooding the fireplace. Her heart pattered anxiously.

  “Dear, get her out of here!” Mrs. O’Henry appeared. She put the basket down and waved her arms. “Put Vera elsewhere and open all the windows and doors. We need to get the smoke out!”

  By the time Adam returned with the older children from school, there was only the faintest smell in the air. Mrs. O’Henry was there, assisting with roasted potatoes, and reminding Molly of everything she was already meant to know. Except her eyes still watered and her new dress, so simple and plain, smelled like burned soup.

  “Is everything all right?” Adam frowned as Vera ran over to hug his leg.

  Molly didn’t want to tell him that, yet again, she’d nearly burned the church house down and everyone with it. Sighing, she glanced at Mrs. O’Henry who offered a sympathetic smile. “Yes, it’s fine. Mrs. O’Henry was simply kind enough to come assist me in the kitchen this evening. It would seem I still lack some talent.”

  He didn’t respond
to her vague statement, but Molly could see his eyes scouring the place carefully. The frustration at her foolish and impulsive nature continued to grow. She simply didn’t know how to be happy with what she had. In Boston, all the parties and dancing were dull. Here, she couldn’t do anything right.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled when Mrs. O’Henry finally left and she’d dished out the plain supper. “I-I’m not hungry. I think I’ll lie down.” Molly turned away before Adam could protest Fortunately, he said nothing, and she collapsed on the bed, wondering what to do with herself.

  Chapter Nine

  On Saturday, Adam found that he didn’t need to prepare much for Sunday. The church was clean, his sermon was prepared, and his garden was thriving. He checked on the building, stopped by two families’ homes to see how they were faring, and returned home.

  It hadn’t even been a week, but his house was a different place. The church building still stood proud with its two front doors and large windows. Inside, though, it was a new world. He fixed his shirt and stepped in to hear loud laughter. Adam wandered down the hall curiously to find a party of four on the girls’ bed where the three children were tickling Molly.

  “Oh, you scoundrels!” She giggled, her curls spilling everywhere. Though she poked the children, most of the laughter was at her expense. But she didn’t seem to mind. Somehow, even Rose had joined the fun. Adam watched, wondering how she’d managed to make that happen. “All right! All right! Your turn. Who’s first?” Molly escaped the children, standing up as she wiggled her fingers at them.

  Adam stood back to watch them play until everyone was too exhausted to move. Taking the opportunity to relax and prepare for the Sabbath, they read for a while, cleaned for a bit, and took a walk together. On their return home, Adam directed them on another route and to Molly’s surprise, they stopped by the O’Henry home so the three children could interact with their friends.

  “Just for a while,” Adam hesitated as they disappeared in the house. Turning to Molly, he tried to read her gaze. Though he hadn’t run the idea by her, they had both made mention before of wanting some time to talk. “I thought we could have some time together.”

  Molly fixed her shawl and then clasped her hands in front. “Ah yes. I suppose that might be pleasant. We haven’t had much time to … talk. I know nothing about you, after all.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. Albeit, there’s not much to say. What would you like to know?”

  She smiled so brightly that he had the pleasure of seeing her dimple. “Oh, I don’t know. Tell me, I suppose, did you always want to be a preacher?”

  After gesturing towards a path near the river, Adam considered her question. “Part of me always wanted that life, I think. The idea of peace and quiet attracted me. I grew up with five siblings, you see, in New York. From what I recall, they’re still there. Our parents passed away and I stayed until I was eighteen, wanting to head west. We were all rather independent, you see. I became a cowboy and worked on several ranches. But I kept coming back to church and after a while, I wanted to spend my time helping others come closer to God. I wound up here.”

  The turn they took led to a grove of trees that waved in the wind. Nearby, they heard the river coursing, and the plains were just up ahead. It was a stunning view, and he hoped she thought so, too.

  “I think that sounds lovely,” Molly said finally. “I had no idea … you don’t seem like a man from the city, you know. There’s this … Somehow, you seem as if you’ve always been here. Does that make sense?” She slowed down to a stop as she concentrated hard on a thought.

  Though she opened her mouth twice more, she couldn’t seem to find the words. Adam glanced around before sidling up in front of her, ready to take whatever she gave him. She’d had an exciting morning, but now she looked so sober he was afraid she might cry. “It’s like you belong here.”

  A niggling feeling made its way into his chest again. Warmth spread throughout his body as he studied her thoughtfully. She was trying so hard to do the right thing. From waking early to tend to the children to ensuring everything was cleaned up by the end of the day. Though she was still learning, he’d noticed the attachments made with the children.

  “I suppose,” he murmured. “I could belong here. And you?” The question made him inhale deeply and hold it, wondering what she might say. Most of Molly’s stories included something about Boston and he’d watched her mind wander. Mrs. O’Henry has told him about the mishaps. She tried, but it didn’t always work. Though he felt excited at the prospect of spending a lifetime with Molly, there was a dark cloud in his mind reminding him that she’d had no other choice but to accept his offer.

  Slowly, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes were bright and clear, those cheeks soft and pink. Molly was beautiful, inside and out. His stomach clenched at the idea of losing her as he looked for ways to make her stay.

  But in that moment, all he could think about were how pretty her lips looked. They were pink and plump and Adam had never wanted to kiss a girl more. When they locked gazes, she drew him like bait on a fishing line. Breathless, Adam found himself slowly leaning in to reach her.

  Molly disappeared, stepping out of reach as she ducked her head. When she cleared her throat, Adam came to his senses. He jerked back and his face flushed. None of that had been part of the plan.

  Chapter Ten

  Taking a deep breath, Molly stepped through the large doors. She could hear Rose and Thad behind her as Vera clung to her skirts. This was another dress as well, for Adam had helped her purchase three new gowns that were better suited to her life in Prairie Sage. It was soft, she was pleasantly surprised to find, though simpler than anything in Boston.

  Mrs. O’Henry gave her a wink as she passed them down the aisle. Adam had left early for the chapel that morning to practice the sermon and welcome everyone. After a moment of searching, she found him talking to an elderly couple. When he glanced up and caught her gaze, he offered her a warm smile that she returned with a shy grin.

  Though she had turned away from his kiss last night, Molly hadn’t stopped regretting it. Several boys had attempted to kiss her in the past and she had deemed only a handful of them worthy. The more she considered it now, none but Adam appeared to be of any value. Yet somehow she’d had the nerve to turn away. What was wrong with her?

  “Let’s sit here.” Rose pointed to a particular pew. It was nothing extraordinary besides being empty. The third row from the front, Molly didn’t mind, and she wasn’t about to turn Rose down when the girl was finally talking to her.

  “I love it,” Molly assured her and led the way. It took their party a minute to decide how they wanted to sit. She ended up with Thad on her left, Rose on her right, and Vera in her lap. For a few minutes, they whispered, trying to guess what Adam might address in his Sunday talk.

  Thad guessed right and Molly nudged him once church began. Adam’s solemn voice carried through the room, though she knew it had to be some sort of miracle because he didn’t have to shout or yell. She was grateful her prior fears were erased. Her eyes followed his movements as he spoke passionately and kindly. The man was still handsome, still smart, and there was something about him that she couldn’t ignore.

  He spoke about love. Through Bible verses and his own words, he shared scripture stories and tender words of the Lord. She’d never heard such a sermon. The more he spoke, the more Molly decided her words to him the other night had indeed been true.

  Adam might not have always lived here, but he did now, and most likely he always would. He belonged here now. Those words had sounded silly, but now she saw them for what they were. Molly had never seen anyone so connected with their home and community.

  How had he done it? The adventures she had yearned for were continuously evolving. She knew now that all of her ideas were little more than false magic tricks. What he had here was real. And she wanted it, she realized. She wanted that type of love in her life, that hope and connection.

&nb
sp; What’s more, Molly marveled as she watched him pause to hand his handkerchief to a child who had sneezed, she wanted him. Her life here wouldn’t mean much without Adam. What if she came to love him? What if he came to love her? She bit her lip, not even noticing as Vera played with her hair, and wondered if that would ever be possible.

  Adam returned to his sermon after offering the Lyle boy his handkerchief, diving into Corinthians. Some of those passages were his favorites, and he had the sudden urge to share them with Molly. Of course, he told himself, he was going to do just that. With Molly and the entire congregation.

  When he looked out, he spotted her immediately. Adam couldn’t miss her, not with the way her pretty bonnet framed her face. He stammered through the verse even though he had it memorized because he knew she was watching him. Clearing his throat, he pressed on, wondering again why he had chosen this topic. Or rather, why the Lord had suggested it.

  He could feel the thumping in his heart. After last night, Adam wasn’t so foolish that he couldn’t tell what his insides were telling him. Of course Molly was beautiful. She was pretty and compassionate and clever. Even as she failed, she was ready to pick herself up again, to study cookbooks carefully and accept suggestions the neighborhood sent her way about cooking and laundry. The more he learned of Molly, the more his heart yearned for her.

  Still, he tried to be practical. Fairy tales weren’t real, after all, and this was still a strange world to Molly. Asking a stunning woman from Boston to live in the middle of nowhere to raise children that weren’t hers was asking for a lot. As a preacher, he could only provide her with so much. Most everything he had came from donations, after all. She wouldn’t have any more pearls than those she already owned, and she would never be rich here with him.