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

by Faye Sonja

  “Why help me and not some other woman? Why keep asking me when I’ve already told you no.”

  Ben frowned. “I don’t know.”

  Florence mirrored his expression. “How do you not know? You’re you. You’re supposed to know.”

  Ben sighed. “Yes, I believe you’ve mentioned this before.”

  “Do you think I’m pretty?”

  Ben laughed. “What?”

  Florence put her hands on her hips and looked around the room; making sure no one was listening. She leaned forwards and whispered. “I’m trying to help you figure this out. So, I’ll ask again. Do you think I’m pretty?”

  Ben’s eyes went wayward as he thought. When he was ready to answer, he was looking at Florence again. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You’re so much more than ‘pretty’. Pretty is for little girl’s dresses and small flowers. Your beauty, Florence, cannot be expressed with any words of Webster diction.”

  Florence closed her eyes. “You know, my life was a lot easier before you came along.”

  “Why is that?”

  Florence opened her eyes. “Because, you make me want things I can’t have.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your love.”

  Ben looked down at his shoes. “That’s very profound, Florence.”

  Florence cupped Ben’s face and forced him to look at her. She didn’t speak until she started seeing blue. “I want you to love me, Ben. I need you to love me. I can’t marry you unless you love me, because I refuse to be stuck in a marriage where love only flows one way.”

  “One way?”

  “I love you.”

  Ben’s jaw hardened underneath her hands. His nostrils flared. He closed his eyes. “Florence—”

  “No.”

  Ben opened his eyes.

  “I won’t marry you if you don't love me. If you don’t love me, then the answer is ‘no’ and will remain ‘no’ until that changes.” She sighed. “So, until then. Do Not Ask Me To Marry You Again! Okay?” Florence dropped her hands and her eyes. “Now, let’s go join the party and then get back to work.” She rushed from the room before Ben could work up the nerve to stop her. Florence had stood her ground with him. She’d never done that before. It felt good and awful at the same time. She was sick of being bullied and pushed around. This time, Florence would make sure that her partner was willing to give just as much as she was willing to give. She would no longer live her life the way her mother had; allowing the need for love to drive her thoughts. Florence had love. She had friends, God, and now, the respect of her colleagues. All of these things were good enough for her. The future was looking up for Florence, and for once, she wouldn’t need a man’s stamp of approval.

  * * *

  8

  Chapter EIGHT

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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.”

  .

  The flyers for the Haines, Kansas business exhibit went up and out all over Kansas and it’s neighboring states. The fair would start in a few days, but everyone with a booth to set up had already arrived to the fairgrounds located in Hutchinson, Kansas.

  The land around Hutchinson had become the official Kansas State fairgrounds in 1901. Ben walked the rather empty field, but could already picture the crowds. Hundreds of thousands of people were scheduled to arrive in the coming days starting tomorrow. The expected profit was also in the hundreds of thousands. Ben was hoping that a portion of that money would be going home with the people of Haines.

  Howard approached Ben with open arms. The man was wearing an off white suit that had managed to repel the dust that was flying around. His eyes gleamed. “Do you see these booths? The design is amazing.” The man gave Ben a jubilant hug. “I knew you were the man for the task.” Howard took a step back.

  Ben smiled down at the man. “The design was Florence and her team’s idea.”

  “Sure it was. Either way, that’s not what I’m telling the business partners.”

  Ben’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

  Howard narrowed his eyes. “You can’t really expect me to give credit to a harlot, do you?”

  A heat wave crawled up Ben’s back. “Harlot?”

  Howard put his hands in his pockets and sighed. His frown was still in place when he said, “The girl is obviously pregnant. Is the child yours?”

  Ben crossed his arms. “I don’t understand what that has to do with her work performance.”

  “Makes no difference. I’ve been telling everyone that it wasn’t yours anyway. Florence’s mother was known to sleep around, and I heard that the daughter wasn’t much different.”

  “Florence isn’t like that.”

  “She’s pregnant and she’s not married.” Howard leaned closer. “Now, I’m not one to care too much about whatever those Bible thumpers are passing around. But if I put her name on this project, I could lose business. You understand?”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “Then after this project, our business is done.”

  Howard shook his head. “You’re not thinking clearly, Ben. You had a dream for this marketing branch, a vision. Don’t let the sways of a woman stop you.” Howard smiled. “I never did and look at me.”

  Ben did look at Howard. He’d never seen the man wear the same suit twice, but the man always had a ruby pendent in his tie and diamond rings around his fingers. His hotel was a masterpiece and the Howard name had reach, and that reach was much further than small town Kansas. Howard, in essence, was where Ben was trying to get. Ben had dreams of grandeur, but looking at Howard made Ben sad. At what stage in Howard’s life had he chosen money over morals? Florence had slaved over the designs for Haines business, and now he would simply ignore her existence. It was unacceptable.

  Ben held out his hand. “Once you pay me, our business will be done.”

  Howard looked at Ben’s hand. “Do you know who you’re talking to, boy?” Howard’s eyes came back up. A white brow lifted on his face. “I can be a hindrance just as easily as I’ve been a help. No business in town will come to you for marketing advice.”

  Ben kept his hand out. “Thanks for the help, Howard, but this is where we part ways.”

  Howard stared Ben in the eyes and he shook his hand. “Hope that girl is worth it.”

  “Oh, she is, Howard.” Ben’s hand tightened around the other man’s. “I’ve just never been in the business of selling my soul.”

  Howard snatched his hand back as if he’d been stung. The older man straightened his suit and then departed.

  Florence came from around a truck that was parked in the middle of the dirt road. She was carrying a covered up canvas that looked twice her size. Someone should have been helping her. Ben rushed over. “Wait.”

  Florence looked up at him, but didn’t stop. She was wearing a paneled green dress. The skirt started below the hip; which was the style, but also emphasized just how big she’d gotten. Her face had gained a little weight as well, but Ben still thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Thoughts of his conversation with Howard faded with every step. Ben stopped in front of her and snatched the canvas from her hands. “Give me that, woman. What is the matter with you? You shouldn’t be lifting things.”

  Florence held her hands together. “I can do it myself.”

  “You should have asked me, or someone from marketing for help.”

  “I did.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “No one helped you?”

  Florence shrugged and swallowed. “They were all too busy.”

  Ben sighed to cool his anger. “That isn’t right.”

  Florence shrugged again. “It’s alright. This is the way my mother was treated when I was younger. I thought people had grown to like me more as I grew up, but I was
wrong.”

  Ben frowned. “I hate that you’re going through this.”

  Florence smiled. “That’s alright.” She started to walk in the direction of one of the actual buildings at the fairgrounds. Ben followed. “What were you and Mr. Howard discussing?”

  Ben’s face went blank. “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Probably not.”

  They made it into the building, which was actually the art building. There were other people with canvasses milling about; picking spots for their portraits. The winner of the contest would be receiving $5. Ben asked, “What did you paint?”

  Florence looked over at him. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  A man wandered over. “Name?”

  “Florence Tilson.”

  The man pointed Florence in the right direction and then left. Ben kept his hold on the canvas until they came to an empty wall. Florence said, “Put it here.”

  Ben began to take the cover off the canvas, but Florence stopped him with her hand on his. She smiled. “Hang it with the cover on.”

  Ben frowned, but did as she asked. They took a step back and stared at the brown covering as though it were the Mona Lisa. Ben looked over at Florence, who looked to be at peace. Ben asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Just life, I guess.”

  “And what about life has you intrigued.”

  “You, for one.”

  “Me?”

  Florence nodded.

  “How do you I intrigue you?”

  Florence shook her head, but never looked over at him. Her eyes were transfixed on the covered painting. “Eddie tells me he loves me and then leaves. You tell me you don’t love me, but won’t leave. Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”

  Ben didn’t know how to reply to that without saying something stupid, or hurting her feelings. He chuckled. Since when had he cared about feelings over the truth? Maybe he was growing tenderhearted. Ben with a tender heart? Impossible.

  “Ben?” She was looking at him.

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you thinking over there?”

  Ben thought about that for a moment. He settled for the truth. “I was just thinking about how our friendship has seemed to make me go soft.”

  Florence smiled and Ben wondered what he needed to do to keep that smile on her face. Florence sighed. “Well, maybe that’s enough.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe you being soft is enough for me to marry you.”

  Ben stared into Florence’s eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “Ask me again.”

  “Okay, Florence… will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  Florence watched as Ben smiled down at her. She returned the smile before turning her head back towards the canvas.

  Ben took a step closer to her. “You don’t seem pleased,” Ben whispered.

  Florence sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.” She was tired of so many things, really. The fear of being alone was gone now. She’d outgrown it, after realizing that she really wasn’t alone. Florence was never alone. She was blessed by the many close friendships she had. But while painting her portrait, Florence began to realize that her feelings no longer mattered as much. She was eight months pregnant and would be delivering in a month. The time for making hard decisions was now.

  Florence had never met her father. When she’d asked her mother who he was, her mother hadn’t known. Either that, or she’d just decided not to tell Florence, and now, Florence was going to have a baby herself. Did she really want her child to have the same life as her? Would she tell her child about how Eddie had left, or like her mother, would she tell her little boy or girl that she didn’t know who her father was? Benjamin was offering Florence more than just a wedding ring, and Florence would be a fool not to take it. Her child would have a last name, a mother who adored her, and a father with a soft, kind heart.

  Ben believed in Florence’s talents. The sweet things Ben said to her meant more to Florence than the words of any other man, because Ben didn’t lie to her. But more than anything else, Ben had picked up and carried her canvas when no one else would. He didn’t point out her flaws. She could see them. Florence didn’t need more shame. She needed support and Ben was giving that to her. In the end, Florence was seeing more of Jesus in this one man than any other man in town. No, Florence wouldn’t get everything she wanted, but she’d be close. She took Ben’s hand and held it. She smiled genuinely up at him.

  Ben smiled down at her. “When do you want to get married?”

  “When we return to Haines.”

  Ben nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  Florence leaned her head on his arm.

  Ben kept his fingers laced with hers, but brought his arm over her head, and placed it around her back. The move had pulled Florence in closer. She placed her head on his chest. Ben whispered, “Let me give you a ride back to where you’re staying.”

  Florence nodded and allowed Ben to steer her towards the door.

  Ben drove Florence to the house she was staying at. The house belonged to a local Christian woman named Belinda. Since Florence would be staying for the entire ten days of the fair, Florence had saved money by sleeping in Belinda’s spare room. Ben walked Florence to the front door and kissed her on the cheek. “May I come get you in the morning?”

  Florence nodded her head in agreement before going inside.

  Belinda was up and about. “Is that the father?” she asked.

  Florence sighed. Belinda was one of those older women, who felt that she had the right to ask any question she so pleased. She was nice, but Florence had been dodging the woman’s questions since she’d arrived yesterday. “No,” Florence said. “But he’s going to marry me anyway.”

  Belinda’s blue eyes went wide. “Well, ain’t that somethin’.” Belinda, who was a wide woman, waddled to the kitchen. “You got an angel over you, girl. Come into the kitchen eat.”

  Florence didn’t have to be told twice. She was hungry.

  The two women sat at the table over bowls of macaroni pudding and cornbread. Florence’s eyes fluttered closed as she ate the cheese covered noodles. Salty and savory.

  “So, what do you think you’re having?”

  Florence shrugged. “I try not to think about it. I don’t want to end up wanting one gender only to get the other.”

  “Sounds like you’re used to not getting what you want.”

  Florence opened her eyes. “You could say that.”

  “Lost your faith somewhere?”

  Florence frowned. “No, I learned to not ask for too much.”

  “Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you shall find. Knock—”

  Florence sighed. “Yes. I know the saying.”

  Belinda got up and went to the stove. “You’re going to have a boy.”

  Florence watched the woman under hooded eyes. “How can you tell?”

  “I’ve spent years as a midwife, and I’ve never been wrong. Not even once.” Belinda laughed loudly as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Florence to her thoughts. A boy? Was it possible? Florence smiled. She’d wanted a boy, but hadn’t dared ask for one. Boys just seemed so much easier to deal with over girls. Boys seemed to also lead easier lives. Florence admitted to herself that she could be wrong on that account, but when she thought about the way her mother struggled and then the way she’d struggled as well… The world just seemed to revolve around the wants of men.

  A boy. What would she name him? Now she had a new round of thoughts to consume her free time.

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  9

  Chapter NINE

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

  like being alone, but I want to be

  wit
h someone who will love me.”

  .

  Florence stood in the crowd as the bell was rung that started the pie eating contest. Jeremy’s hands were behind his back as he took his first bite into his blueberry pie. She cupped her hand over her eyes to block the sun as she stared straight ahead. There were six men in the contest; every one of them was much better than Jeremy. He was such a tiny thing compared to the rest of them.

  Jeremy came up for air, took a breath, and then went back to work. He’d only been up for a second, but it had been enough for Florence to see how blue his face was already. The contest was simple. The first person to finish most of his pie before the bell would win. Florence shook her head as she ate another handful of popcorn from her bag. Salty and savory.

  Ben had brought her to the fair, but had been called away to speak with some of the members of Haines’ business class. She’d asked what the talk would involve, but Ben had told her not to worry about it.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Florence turned to find Clara and Eve standing by her. She smiled. “He’s moving as fast as everyone else, but we can’t see the pies from this angle.

  Eve’s sons, who were now ten, ran up to their mother. Clark asked, “Mom, can I have a nickel.”

  “Me too!” Lewis said.

  Eve went into her purse. “What’s the nickel for?”

  Both boys got deathly quiet. Eve narrowed her eyes. “What’s the nickel for?”

  They both looked at one another and then smiled at Eve. “Ice cream!” they said.

  Eve put her purse down. “You two just had ice cream. Why don’t you eat some real food?”

  “You mean like, a funnel cake?” Clark had his face scrunched up.

  “No,” Lewis said. “I think she means like cookies.” He smiled. Both of the boys had Eve’s hazel eyes and brunette hair.

  Clark smiled too. “Or candied apples!”

  “Or cotton candy.”

  “Or—”

  Eve shook her head. “How about a hot dog or a hamburger?”