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Mail Order Bride: Ultimate Mail Order Bride Collection: 6-Book Bundle ~ Clean Historical Romance (Shades of Romance Series)

Page 32

by Jill Maguire


  The days passed happily and soon the long awaited days arrived. Kate gave birth to a bouncing baby boy named Jonathon Morgan who came into the world screaming and kicking on June 5th, a little later than expected but healthy and strong.

  After a long and strenuous labor, Virginia also gave birth to a baby boy. Joshua Mathew weighed in at 6 pounds 3 ounces and boasted a great amount of dark curly hair. He was born on July 10th, exactly one day before Fletcher’s own birthday. Fletcher liked to boast that he was an early birthday present.

  Now, it was August again and Virginia was standing on the verandah just as she did every morning to wave goodbye to Fletcher as he left for town. The only difference now was, she often held a tiny little wrapped bundle in her arms.

  In the heat of this particular morning, she reached down and pulled the blanket loose to keep the baby cool. As always, when not asleep, the baby watched her every move. Virginia had never in her life felt such love. Looking down into those gray blue eyes, she was reminded of the faded photograph that sat tucked in her bible.

  “I shall have to get a picture taken with you too, little one,” she murmured to the tiny bundle. “We shall have it taken there in the garden among the wild roses. That way, when you see the roses start to bloom, you will know it is getting close to your birthday.”

  She planted a tender kiss on the soft smooth forehead and headed back inside to start her day.

  THE END

  Coming Soon to Kindle:

  Love By Mail: The Whistle Stop Brides Series

  Meet 10 couples in the quaint railroad town of Whistle Stop, Wyoming. Each has endured triumph and tragedy on their way to the altar. Can love really conquer all?

  “A captivating new series by Jill Maguire & Kalyn Keyes.”

  His Magnolia Bride

  Copyright 2015 © Jill Maguire & Kalyn Keyes

  Prairie Wind Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted by any means - electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise without written permission from the author/publisher.

  His Sunrise Bride

  Copyright 2015 © Jill Maguire & Kalyn Keyes

  Prairie Wind Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted by any means - electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise without written permission from the author/publisher.

  Cover Design by Renee Barratt @ www.thecovercounts.com

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Sign Up For Our Newsletter

  Prologue

  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

  Shades of Romance Series

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Pain seared through Miranda’s entire body as she lay lifeless in the grass. “Mama,” she whispered. “Pa?” But there was no answer from either of her parents. All Miranda could hear was the sound of the birds singing in the trees above her and the ringing that echoed in her ears.

  Moisture dripped into her eyes and she swiped at it with the back of her hand. Blood. Dark red blood, thick and sticky on her skin. She knew she was badly hurt, but all she could think of was her periwinkle blue sundress. Mama would be furious if she stained it with blood.

  Trying to sit up, Miranda found herself crippled with pain and frightened by the sight of more blood, streaked through her brunette curls. Her tiny fingers curled around the ribbon Ma had used to tie her hair back, now lying loose and frayed beside her. The wet moss corralled her head as Miranda laid back and looked to the sky. A cotton ball cloud rolled off the sun, blinding Miranda with its light. Maybe this was the light that Preacher Daniels spoke of when folks were about to pass on -- maybe this was the Lord coming to take her home.

  Miranda closed her eyes and waited. She knew she couldn’t fight it if this was the Lord’s plan, but in her 9-year-old mind, she was disappointed that she and her family wouldn’t be making the trip they had originally planned.

  It was only three days ago that her family loaded up the wagon and said goodbye to their home in Oklahoma. Ma cried, but Pa was almost giddy. Whenever he talked about Sunrise, Montana, a glimmer of excitement twinkled in his eyes. He called it the “land of dreams and opportunities” and it would be the place they would soon call home.

  After crossing the border into Colorado, her family stopped for the night and Pa told her and Timothy all about Sunrise as they sat around the fire. He told them about the adventure that lay in front of them and the bounty of land that awaited them. As the crickets sang and the frogs croaked, Miranda hung on every one of her Pa’s words. She believed with all of her heart that they were going to have a wonderful new life in Montana.

  But that was before the accident -- before the wheel flew from their wagon sending her entire family violently over an embankment. Now, as far as she could tell, she was the only one who had survived the crash. Miranda squeezed her eyes closed, as tightly as she could, and tried to block out the visions of her brother being flung from the wagon and the sound of her mother’s scream. Maybe, just maybe, if she willed it all away, she would wake up from this terrible nightmare and be sleeping peacefully next to her Pa under the stars.

  She tried once more to call out. “Timothy?” She listened for an answer, hoping perhaps her brother was alive and lying somewhere nearby. “Timothy?” But still the only thing she heard was the birds.

  Miranda brought the pretty blue ribbon to her chest and clutched it in her palm. She thought of her Ma and how she had always loved it when Miranda wore ribbons in her hair. Ma said it made her look like a young lady rather than a girl. Now Ma would never see her as a woman, as a bride, as a mother. A tear wandered down Miranda’s cheek but her sorrow was too heavy to wipe it away. Instead, she closed her eyes again and wished the Lord would take her so she could join her family in Heaven.

  “Over here!” A man’s voice echoed through the trees. “There’s someone over here, a child!” the man hollered toward the road.

  Miranda felt a sense of relief fill her body. Not because she hoped someone had found her, but that maybe someone had found Timothy and he was still alive. She heard the sound of her own laughter inside her head. Funny how only a few short hours ago, she and Timothy were at each other’s throats over who got to sit at the back of the wagon. She told him it was her right since she was the only girl. He argued and said it was his right because he was older and that made him more important. Pa had put a quick end to their bickering by making them sit across from each other instead. She was so mad she wanted to spit at Timothy, and now, she’d give anything to know he was alright.

  Miranda blinked hard as a man crouched down beside her. He was shadowed by the sun, making it impossible to see his face but she could tell by his voice that he was gentle and kind.

  “You’re going to be okay, child. We’re going to get you to the doctor.”

  He rested one hand on hers and stroked it gently while he waved for help with the other. Somehow Miranda knew he was right. Somehow she knew she was going to be okay.

  Chapter One

  10 years later…….

  Little Cherry Springs, Colorado 1865

  The door almost flew off its hinges when Miranda Shaw stormed out of the post office. “Over my dead bo
dy,” she muttered under her breath. “There’s no way I’m marrying that no good, fuddy-duddy windbag. I don’t care how much money he has, or how prominent he is, or even how handsome. That man will never put a ring on my finger.”

  She could feel the sweat forming between her palm and the envelope she was carrying and worried that by the time she reached home, the letter would need to be rung out before she could show her father. Her left arm swung heavily at her side as the other curled around her wooden cane, slamming it into to the dirt with each angry step. She was never one to let her uneven gait slow her down, even though her parents constantly reminded her that walking at a more leisurely pace would make her limp less noticeable.

  Miranda nodded as Mrs. Applewood waved from her porch and she yelled a pleasant, “not today,” to Mrs. Brimm who kindly offered her a cold glass of fresh lemonade. She had to get home. Her father would be finishing his afternoon brandy by the time she arrived and she needed to discuss this matter with him immediately. The closer she got, the more her temperature rose. There was no way her father had agreed to give Morris McGinn her hand in marriage. Simply absurd.

  The gate leading to the front of the Shaw home was met the same force as the post office door when Miranda whipped through it, almost shattering the thin planks of pine. She didn’t cringe or even look back to be sure she hadn’t broken it. She had one thing on her mind and one thing only -- telling her father that this marriage was never going to happen.

  She mumbled her way up the path, totally ignoring the delicate pink and yellow flowers lining her way, and the eager wag of her dog Gentry’s tail. She pushed the front door open and saw her father sitting in his favorite chair. He was taking the last sip of his afternoon cordial, just as she expected.

  “Miranda!” he exclaimed with surprise. “Why aren’t you at the post office? Your shift doesn’t end for another hour.”

  Miranda hadn’t even taken the time to consider how unhappy her father would be with her for leaving her job so early. With her gone, there was no one to distribute the mail to the folks of Little Cherry Springs, and as postmaster of the town, that would reflect badly on her father.

  “I’m sorry father, but a letter came for you and we need to discuss it right now.” Miranda waved the soggy envelope at him.

  Chester Shaw furrowed his brow at the young woman standing across from him. “You need to get back to the post right away.” He snatched the letter from Miranda’s hand and shook his fist. “Whatever this is, we can talk about it at five o’clock when the office is closed.”

  “I will return as soon as you tell me what I want to hear,” Miranda stated stubbornly.

  “And what is that?”

  “That you did not promise my hand to Morris McGinn.” Miranda pinned one hand to her hip and scowled, her jaw cramping from clenched teeth. “Because that is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard.”

  “Mr. McGinn is a respectable young man and I am aware that the two of you have been courting some. He seems like a perfect candidate for your hand.”

  “Morris and I have only walked home together once and that was more than enough time for me to find out what a repulsive and contemptuous man he is. We have never courted and we will never be married!” Miranda felt her heart thumping against her chest. She had never spoken to her father in such a tone before.

  “Watch your tongue young lady! I am your father and I will make the decisions around here. If I say you will marry Morris McGinn, then that’s what you will do. Besides, with your unfortunate……..” Chester’s lips slammed shut, refusing to finish his thought.

  “My unfortunate what, father? Go ahead…,” Miranda urged.

  “Darling,” he said in a softened hush. “You know I have never treated you any differently because of your disability – in most cases it doesn’t make one bit of difference. But when it comes to marrying someone with the means to provide for you, your options may be limited. I am very pleased that someone of Mr. McGinn’s stature is willing to take your hand.”

  Miranda was dizzy from the surge of blood that bathed her face, and in that instant, she could almost hear her heart and her mind debating whether or not to say something equally hurtful. In the end, her heart won out and she blurted, “My real father never would have treated me this way.” Her icy stare and sharp words were aimed right at her adoptive father’s heart. It was the first time she had ever compared Chester Shaw to her real father, but it was also the first time she had ever been this angry with him.

  Chester turned his back and Miranda knew her words had pierced his soul. She stabbed her cane against the floor and left the same way she came in – full of fury and dead-set against the idea of marrying Morris McGinn.

  ****

  Knowing very well that her father would be returning to the post office, she thought it better if they both had some time to clear their minds and avoid another confrontation. She went to the only place that brought her a sense of peace – she returned to the very riverbank that had claimed the lives of those she loved most in the world.

  Miranda tucked her long skirt underneath her and sat down on the thick trunk of a fallen tree. She tapped the hollow wood and let her fingers slide over the damp moss that clung to the side. This tree had been like an old friend to her over the years, hearing all of her secrets and catching many of her tears. It was here that she felt closest to her family.

  The water bubbled and gurgled its way down the river and Miranda watched as it raced over the rocks and swirled into a funnel. As she let the ripples of the river calm her nerves, she thought of her father – her real father. He had always loved the water. He had taken her fishing in rivers just like these in Oklahoma when she was a child. It was one of her fondest memories of him. She remembered how proud he was when she caught three fish in one day. Ma had cooked them up just right and the whole family enjoyed a feast that night. Miranda smiled. Oh, how she missed them – all of them.

  Miranda gasped when she heard a rustle in the bushes behind her. “Who’s there?” she called. But no one answered. “Hello? Is someone there?” She snatched her cane from the crook in the fallen tree and jumped to her feet.

  The crime rate in Little Cherry Springs had hit an all-time high since the gold rush started and Miranda suddenly felt vulnerable out here all alone. “I may not look like much of a fighter, but trust me when I tell you not to mess with me,” she growled. Especially not today, she thought to herself. Nothing would feel better than pummeling an attempted attacker with her cane to relieve some stress.

  The restless bushes became still and Miranda dismissed the noise as nothing more than her own imagination. “My nerves are so frayed they’re making me believe foolish things,” she whispered as she brushed broken bits of bark from the back of her skirt. “I best get back before the sun sets. Mother will begin to worry.”

  Miranda bent over and collected a tiny stone from the grass at her feet. She rolled it between her fingers a few times and recited her Ma’s favorite prayer – the same prayer she said each time she visited the riverbank. Then she cast the rock into the water and whispered a gentle “I love you,” to the clouds, hoping her family was watching over her.

  Chapter Two

  Jagged braches and thorns tore at his flesh as he ran through the woods, lashing him at every turn. He knew if he followed the setting sun he’d eventually reach the river where he could drink, rest and hopefully find a good place to hide. The lawmen had an unfair advantage considering they were on horseback, but Cody Hyde’s wilderness experience had served him well and allowed him to evade them – for now.

  Cody hunched over and placed his hands on his knees, deep heaves racked his body as he tried to catch his breath. He cursed Harvey Duncan under his breath – not because his friend had started the biggest bar brawl in Colorado, but because he had gone and gotten himself killed. Now, not only was Cody left to outrun the Miller brothers who wanted to finish the fight, but also the lawmen who thought he was the one who murdered his be
st friend.

  Cody took a long look over his shoulder and listened for the sound of hoof beats. If the lawmen were close, he’d have no choice but to bolt to the river and let it take him downstream. It was the best option for avoiding capture, but far from the best choice for his declining health. A lengthy swim in the cold river would only make things worse.

  After catching his breath, Cody continued toward the river. He could hear the sound of frogs croaking along the banks, and the rushing sound of water in the distance. Maybe, if there was no sign of the Miller brothers or the Marshall and his men when he arrived, he would start a small fire and hunker down for the night. But only if the coast was absolutely clear.

  As he walked, Cody plucked a wild daisy from the ground. He spun it between his fingers and thought back to his days on the farm – the days before he and Harvey hatched their master plan to head west and find gold, and the days before he drank away his money in the darkness of the nearest saloon.

  Being rich or finding gold was the furthest thing from his mind when he was a child. He was happy to pass the day away riding horses, helping his folks with chores or going fishing with Harvey. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d become a wanted man someday, fleeing from the authorities in the Colorado backwoods.

  Cody cast the daisy aside and continued walking, checking over his shoulder every few steps. When he came to a narrow gravel walkway, he followed it, thankful to be out of the dense forest for a while. He was uncomfortable about the noise his boots made on the crushed rock, so he decided to walk along the grass until he reached the river.

 

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