Mail Order Bride 22 Book Boxed set: 22 Brides Ride West :CLEAN Western Historical Romance Series Bundle

by Faye Sonja

  “You know, brother,” Robert continued. “I’m sure if you made yourself seem more agreeable to the women in town, you’d easily find yourself a wife.” Robert’s smile brightened as a flash of light highlighted his features: a strong jaw, hard bone structure, and hair the color of flames, just like Benjamin; except for the almost angelic look in Robert’s eyes.

  They were standing on the porch under the shade, a few feet away from everyone else who was sitting on the grass. The distance gave them privacy.

  Ben chuckled to himself. “I’m not getting married, Robert.”

  Robert was standing at the side of the porch, his hands grasped around the white wooden railing. “Why not? Mom and Dad have a good marriage.”

  Ben nodded. “That they do.”

  “And there’s always passing on the Manning name and the good genes.”

  Ben laughed. “That too.”

  “Then what’s holding you back?”

  Ben lowered his head, but peaked up at this brother through the bed of his lashes. A grin on his face. “Well, there are just so many women. How does a man pick just one?”

  Robert’s eyes went wide. He turned fully around at his brother and laughed. “A truer statement has never been said.”

  “So you agree?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why marry?”

  “Because, I wanted Eve more than any other woman.”

  Ben crossed his arms. “You and Eve did not marry under normal circumstances. She needed to marry in order to keep her father’s business. You both didn’t really have the opportunity to choose one another.” Eve, Robert’s wife, owned a publishing company in town. Admittedly, the company, Haines Press, was known worldwide for producing some of the West’s most intriguing tales and mysteries. “Eve was forced to marry you and you only married her so that you could finally run your dream publishing company.”

  “That was true. At first, it started as an obsession with Haines Press, but you knew that my interest in Eve Haines, the woman, grew from the moment of our first encounter.”

  Ben nodded. “True, but it was not love at first sight, and you didn’t fall in love until after you were married.”

  Robert nodded. “All true.”

  “You took a risk being stuck with someone that you had the potential to hate later on. I don’t want to take that risk.”

  Robert narrowed his eyes. “This coming from the man who’d once talked our teacher into recess all day.” Robert shook his head. “This does not sound like the Benjamin I know.”

  Ben put a finger in the air. “Ah, but the odds were on my side. With love, the odds are not always in anyone’s favor. You lucked out with Eve, Robert.”

  Robert frowned. “Love is not about luck, Ben. It’s about respect.”

  Ben shook his head. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Marriage is either pain or pleasure. You lucked out, Robert.”

  Robert sighed. “No, Ben. Anyone can make it if they both put that at the forefront of their minds.”

  Steps sounded in the distance. “What are you two talking about?” Eve came through the back door of the house. She looked at both men. “Have either of you seen Florence?”

  Robert shook his head. “No. I thought she was out on the grass with everyone else?”

  Eve sighed and shook her head. “No, Eddie showed up at the wedding and she excused herself. I haven’t seen her since.”

  The mention of Eddie caused Ben’s stomach to lurch. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  Eve’s dark brows drew together; her hazel eyes full of worry. “I don’t know. An hour or so ago? I let her take him into the study.”

  Ben leaned up from the wall. “I’ll go look for her.”

  Robert put an arm around Eve’s shoulder and held his wife tightly. “I’m sure she’s alright. Eddie is her boyfriend after all.”

  Eve looked at Robert. “Perhaps, you’re right.”

  Ben started for the back doors of the house. “I’ll go make sure.”

  “Thank you,” Eve said to his back as he entered the house. The first room from the back porch was the sitting room. Straight ahead was the front room. Ben could see the front door. On either side of the house sat twin staircases; underneath them laid twin hallways that led to other rooms. The house was large and was more like a mansion of sorts. Ben started right, choosing to go down the hall that would lead to the ballroom which had been used for the wedding feast. The savory smell of the delicious chicken dinner still hung in the air in the otherwise empty room. The gas lit chandeliers were still giving off their low, romantic hue. Dining tables lined the walls. The wait staff had cleared the tables of all the used dishes, but the food was left out, no doubt readily available for anyone who’d feel the need to wander back in for seconds or thirds.

  Benjamin left the room, but turned back to grab a roll from a tray near the door when he heard a clatter come from the other side of the room. There was a door that led to a kitchen. A light was coming from within. He paused. There was no noise. He headed that direction anyway.

  He pushed the door open and saw a scene that didn’t make sense at first. Florence was sitting in the corner on the floor. Her eyes were wide, showing white. Her skin was pale. Her blonde, almost white hair, which was normally in a state of perfection was tossed and thrown all over her face. She looked at Ben and moved her mouth, speaking, but all Ben could see was the cut on her lip. There was blood.

  Ben turned and collided with a small man with dark angry eyes. Eddie. Eddie balled his fists and turned to Florence. “I told you to keep quiet, woman.”

  Florence’s hands came up. “Please, Eddie. Don’t—”

  “I’m tired of hearing you talk, woman.” Eddie’s hand came up. “You ruined everything!”

  Florence shouted. “No!”

  Eddie’s fisted hand began to come down and then stopped.

  Ben looked at his hand, which was now around Eddie’s fist. Both men stared at one another. Eddie’s eyes looked bewildered. Ben tilted his head; watching Eddie in confusion. Nothing made sense. He turned, slowly to Florence. “Did he hit you?”

  Florence’s eyes darted around the room. She covered her lips with her hand. “Don’t hurt him, Ben.”

  Ben’s eyes went wide. A pull came on his hand and he realized, for the first time, that the little man beside him was struggling to gain control of his fist. Eddie opened his mouth, showing rows of yellow teeth. “You better mind your business, Manning boy. This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  Ben stared at the shorter man and shook his head. He’d never been in this kind of situation before. He studied Eddie. “Did you actually hit her?”

  Eddie frowned, now yanking more obviously on his arm. His words showed his strain. “I’ve gone tired of her sassing me. She grew brave today, but I’m not to stand for it. She’s gotta know her place.”

  Ben shook his head. He turned to Florence. “Has he hit you before?”

  Florence shook her head, wildly. There was water in her eyes. “I never thought—”

  Eddie cut her off. “You shut your mouth, you—”

  There was a scream. A smack. One minute, Eddie was standing. The next, he was down with Ben standing over him. Florence was at the down man’s side. Eddie groaned.

  The first flick of heat began to spread within Ben. He was hot. And then the next minute, a cool began to spread. The cool spread like liquid over the heat and seemed to give Ben tunnel vision. “Eddie. Bad. Must get rid of Eddie,” Ben thought.

  Ben leaned down on one knee and looked at the hurt man who still had the nerve to show his anger through his pain. Florence grabbed Ben’s hand. Ben’s eye came up to meet hers. Florence’s eyes were a deep lavender; the most beautiful pair of eyes Ben had ever seen. Her blond hair cradled her pale face. Her pink lips stained with blood. “Ben, don’t.”

  Ben’s voice was calm. “This is not okay, Florence.”

  Her hold on Ben’s hand tightened. She nodded repeate
dly. “I know. I know, but don’t hurt him, Ben. Please, just go.”

  Ben shook his head slowly. “No, Florence. This is not okay.” He narrowed his eyes. “This is not okay, Florence.” Ben looked back at the man on the floor. He grabbed Eddie’s collar. Ben slowly got himself up on his feet; Eddie’s hands locked around Ben’s hand as he helplessly came to stand on his own two feet. Eddie jerked. “Let me go, Manning. Florence is mine.”

  “Not anymore.” Ben started from the room; his hold firmly around Eddie’s collar. Florence followed. They both protested during the walk out of the ballroom, through the front room, and out the front door. The night was quiet, except for the sounds of the creatures of the night. The gas lights that hung by the front door’s entrance was their only light.

  Ben threw Eddie the moment he got to the sidewalk. Eddie scrambled to stand. Ben brought up his fist again, striking Eddie. Eddie went down once again. Florence grabbed Ben and swung him around. Her eyes and face were wet. “Benjamin, you have to stop.”

  Eddie scrambled to his feet. He spit blood on the sidewalk below him. “Forget it. You can have her. The girl’s a whore, just like her mother.”

  Florence reached out for him, but Ben stopped her; his arms around her waist. Florence fought to go to Eddie. Tears filled her words. “No, Eddie.” She shook her head. “That’s not true. I love you.”

  Eddie started to back away. “You’re a whore, like your mother.” He looked at Ben. “Let him raise your bastard. I’m leaving town.”

  Florence fell to her knees; Ben went down with her. Florence, in vain, still tried to peel herself away from Ben’s tight grip. “No, Eddie. Don’t leave. The baby is yours. I promise.”

  Eddie shook his head, straightened out his worn brown suit jacket, turned, and started towards the woods, disappearing behind the shadows.

  Florence screamed after him. “Eddie! Eddie, the baby is yours! Eddie!” Her screams turned to shrieks and then a loud and boisterous sob.

  Florence Tilson cried and clung to the arms that held her. Eddie was gone. The only man who’d ever loved her was gone, and once again, Florence was alone, but this time, she was pregnant. And it was Ben’s fault. Her face shot up, and she scrambled out of Ben’s arms. “You! How could you?” Florence crawled backwards; away from him; her blond hair flying all around her face.

  Ben looked confused. He reached for her. Florence, he hit you.”

  Florence cried, her fist hitting the Earth. “No! Eddie loved me! He didn’t mean to.” Her heart was beating at double speed. The rushing of her pulse beat furiously in her ears.

  Ben picked her up and brought her back to his arms. Florence fought, pushed; shoving at his chest. “I hate you! I hate you! You made him leave me! You made him leave me!” She turned towards the woods. “I have to stop him! I have to go get him back! Eddie!”

  Ben grabbed the bottom of Florence’s face; forcing her eyes to meet his, his larger hand easily cupping her entire jaw. His dark blue eyes were very serious when he said, “Florence, you’ve gone mad.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know me. You’ve never been alone.”

  “I’ve been alone before.”

  “No,” she tried to shake her head, but Ben held her too tight. “You have two loving parents and you shared a womb with your brother!” She yanked her jaw back; regaining control of herself. Her next words were all but hissed. “You have never been alone a day in your life, Benjamin Manning.”

  Ben gave no reaction to her words. “You don’t need Eddie, Florence.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  One of the porch lights began to waver right before it had went out. Florence remembered where she was. She was sitting on the sidewalk; surrounded by Ben’s larger form. She looked up at him; studying his face. Ben’s face was like that of a Greek statue with skin laid over it. His red hair, which he kept short and pushed back, had come out of place during the ruckus with Eddie. His dark royal blue eyes… Benjamin was gorgeous. Florence shook her head and smiled. “Ben, you know nothing about being alone.”

  “You’re not alone, Florence. You have Eve and Clara.”

  Florence laughed drily. “Yes, I have two female friends,” she mocked and turned away. “I guess I’ll need them now more than ever.”

  “And you have me.”

  Florence turned to face him. “What?”

  Ben touched her cheek. “I’ll help you.”

  “What do you mean by ‘help’?”

  “With the baby.”

  Florence blinked. “What could you possibly know about raising a baby, Ben?”

  “What do you know about raising a baby, Florence?”

  Florence looked away and sighed. “I don’t know, Ben.” Tears began to well up in her eyes again. She shook her head. “I’m just so tired of being alone—”

  Ben raised Florence’s face, leaned in, and kissed her lip. Florence winced from the pain. She pulled away from Ben, looking at him with wide eyes. “Why’d you do that?”

  Ben’s eyes were just as wide. “I’m not sure.”

  Florence clumsily got to her feet and straightened her pale blue gown. She’d been a bridesmaid for the wedding. The dress had been gorgeous, but was more than ruined now.

  “We should marry.”

  Florence’s head flew up. “What?”

  Ben pointed at her stomach. “The town will know you’re pregnant soon. Marriage is a reasonable conclusion.”

  Florence placed a hand over her stomach. “But, you told everyone at Eve’s dinner last year that you were never going to marry.”

  Ben shrugged. “Not for love, but I’ll marry for this. The town already looks down on you because of your mother’s reputation. You couldn’t possibly want that for your child.”

  Florence stared at Ben for a second and then shook her head. She wiped her face and then pushed her hair back into something more reasonable. “No.”

  Ben frowned. “What?”

  “No, I won’t be marrying you.”

  “Why?”

  Florence walked past him and opened the front door. She turned back to look at him. “Because I’d rather be alone than with someone as depressing as you.” With that, she closed the door behind her; hoping to never face the subject of marriage with Benjamin again.

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  1

  Chapter ONE

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  “I can’t marry you, Benjamin. I don’t

  like being alone, but I want to be

  with someone who will love me.”

  .

  Florence walked into the door of Haines Press and headed straight for the illustrator’s corner that was arranged in the back of the office; underneath the other offices upstairs. One of the other illustrators was there, already at work. Jeremy Black looked up and smiled at her from his desk. “Hey, Florence.” His eyes were a dark brown that was almost a black. His hair was that same shade of almost black.

  “Hey, Jeremy,” Florence said as she took a seat at her desk, which was located across the center aisle from Jeremy. She pulled opened her desk drawer and pulled out her sketchpad and pencil.

  “What are you working on?”

  “I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do for the contest at the State Fair in three months.” Florence began to draw over her paper. A face. She wasn’t completely sure who she was drawing. She had no true mission, but to doodle. She found that drawing was more relaxing than anything else she’d ever done.

  “You’re a great artist and I’ve been trying to get you to enter the contest with me for years, but you normally don’t participate. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Florence shrugged; not lifting her eyes off the pad. It wasn’t a change of heart. It was more so a change of body. It had been three months since she’d found out she was going to have a baby, but the doctor had told her that she’d b
een around two months along back then. So, Florence was officially around five months pregnant. She was carrying small, so no one had asked if she was pregnant, but racing a horse, carnival rides, and other vigorous activities just weren’t safe for her to participate in anymore. Florence didn’t say any of this to Jeremy, because no one at work, outside of Eve, Robert, Benjamin, and Clara, even knew she was pregnant… yet. Eventually, the secret would be too big to hide, but for right now, Florence just wanted to enjoy life before the baby arrived.

  Jeremy laughed.

  Florence looked at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not painting this year.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m training for the pie eating contest.” Jeremy puffed his slim chest out.

  Florence laughed. “Aren’t you a little on the thin side for an eating contest?”

  Jeremy lifted his chin before going back to his own drawing. “You just wait and see, Florence. I’m going to win.” He laughed. “Plus, I love pie.”

  Florence smiled. “Yeah. I love fair food in general.”

  “Roasted corn.”

  “Peanuts.”

  “Hot dogs.”

  “Ice cream.”

  They both looked at one another and said at the same time. “Ice cream. Mm.” They laughed.

  “Florence.”

  Florence frowned as she turned to look at the bane in her existence. Benjamin Manning strolled down the short row of desks; looking larger and grander than life in a spectacularly cut navy blue suit. A light blue shirt laid underneath it. He wore no tie. The top button was undone. Florence noticed for the first time that the other illustrators had arrived. She flipped the paper on her pad and straightened. “Benjamin?”

  Benjamin smiled as he came to lean over her desk; his palms resting on the hardwood surface. The smell of his cologne almost knocked her out of her chair. It smelt woodsy, expensive, and very masculine. The woman in her liked the smell, but the pregnant woman in her liked it more. Florence had been suffering with the normal pregnancy sicknesses, but one whiff of Benjamin had a calming effect. Too bad that, outside of his scent, the rest of Benjamin Manning just seemed to unnerve her; starting with the smile that was on his face as he looked down at her. “Want an exciting job?”