Mail Order Bride 22 Book Boxed set: 22 Brides Ride West :CLEAN Western Historical Romance Series Bundle
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As he walked past he caught a snippet of their comments.
"...Mine collapse."
"He's pushing them too far," another one whispered, holding her lace gloved hand up to her mouth as she did.
What did these women know of what went on down at the mines? He thought. But his worries ran deeper than that. If the wives of his men were gossiping about the mine and the chance of a possible collapse, that meant that his workers did actually know of the danger, and they'd been talking about it at home, speaking ill of him behind his back.
He didn't feel betrayed, not especially. Whenever a man was powerful like him in any community or settlement, this kind of thing was to be expected. Yes, he appreciated loyalty from his workers, but he'd also come to expect some degree of traitorous activity. He had ambitions to enter politics, the big leagues in San Francisco, once he was done with his time in Gold Creek. So he knew gossip and perhaps even betrayal were some of the things he'd need to get used to.
No, what bothered him was that bad gossip like this would spread quickly in such a small community, ruin his good reputation before it had really had chance to take foot. And he couldn't afford to sully the good name he had worked so hard to make for himself. He had founded Gold Creek, and that had earned him the love and respect of the residents. That glimmer of admiration they had in their eyes as he passed was something he'd gotten used to and that he now craved and had come to rely on. But that kind of love and admiration could quickly slip away. It could wash away as readily as the creek bank.
His pace quickened as he hurried to get away from the women. He gave a brief wave to Doc as he passed, and noticed that even the old man seemed to wave with less enthusiasm than he'd had that morning.
As Jackson raced back to his home, eager to avoid the prying eyes and idle gossip, he thought about his future. He thanked God that he had his plan in the works, for how to make himself good in the hearts and minds of the town folk again. This bad gossip was just that - gossip. Whenever he had to make a hard decision, such as the decision to keep digging, it was because he had the best interests of the town in mind. The only way to turn Gold Creek into the thriving town he knew it could be if they had money coming into it. Gold. Gold would provide them all the money to secure the settlement's future. His only goal was to take care of the people in his town even if he had to make tough decisions along the way that might make him temporarily unpopular.
But yes, he had a plan; one that was already set in motion.
He was going to marry.
A bride! He'd been impressed at his own ingenuity when he'd come up with the idea. What better way to get back in the favor and good graces of his friends and neighbors than by marrying? The gossip would cease, at least for a while. That was his way of thinking. It would also go some way towards restoring his reputation as a bachelor who was incapable of settling down.
And then if he dared to hope, maybe; just maybe his new bride would be more than just a way to restore his good reputation. For as Jackson had placed the advertisement with the mail order bride company, he sent with it a prayer that God would send to him his perfect match. For that's what he wanted: a perfect bride who would be a strong worker, a kind person, a valued addition to the town, and someone who could love him back in the same way.
And Jackson Abrams was the sort of man who usually got what he wanted.
* * *
3
The Meeting
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“ With what happened … being jilted at
the aisle. It's hardly a memory she can
ever forget, but now is the time to move on. ”
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Gold Creek 1849,
two weeks later.
The weeks on the stage coach had taken their toll on Ava, who was so grateful when she finally stepped gingerly onto the platform of Gold Creek station that she almost fell to the earth and kissed the ground. But, of course, she was far too proper for that, and she'd never dream of making such a scene, or such an odd first impression on her new husband.
Not that she cared too much one way or another what her soon-to-be-husband Jackson Abrams thought of her. Of course, it would be nice if he liked her, and she liked him, but she knew that their marriage was something of a practicality, and she didn't dare to dream that it would be more than that. She'd been through enough heartache all those years ago. She knew that hoping and dreaming of love only ended up in hurt and pain. Nowadays, she kept a far more sensible head.
Besides, Jackson Abrams had told her in his letters that he was a miner. He'd probably turn up at the station filthy with dirt and dust, and stinking of days out in the sun. She scrunched up her nose and squinted as she looked around the platform of Gold Creek station. She wore a long, white lace dress with a blue trim that skimmed the ground as she turned around, with matching bonnet and her long blonde hair tucked up delicately underneath. From glancing around at the other women on the platform, she could already see that she stuck out like a sore thumb in her fine, formal attire. The other women seemed to wear dresses made out of much sturdier material. The kind of fabric that it didn't matter if you got down on your hands and knees in the dirt. Her white lace dress would be ruined by even a fleck of dust.
Still, it was the dress she had chosen. Despite herself, despite knowing that there would be no grand romance waiting for her in Gold Creek, she'd wanted to wear her best and finest dress when she first met her husband. She rarely allowed herself such silly fancies, and she'd never have admitted that she was trying to impress, but deep down she was proud that she looked her best.
She stood very still as she waited. There was no sense in putting any strain on her leg until she absolutely had to. Besides, a limp didn't look very dignified in her fine white and blue dress. Not the first impression she wanted to give.
Where was Jackson? she thought, beginning to get just slightly frustrated. She valued punctuality, and made a point to never keep others waiting. She sighed, supposing this was just how they did things out this way, in a town like this. She'd heard the rumors about these gold mining communities. No rules. No laws. Probably no respect for other people's time either. She might be waiting till nightfall for all she knew.
Eventually she could no longer keep her leg upright without great pain, so she limped over to a seat in the shade of the platform, unaware that her groom was watching her from the other end of the platform.
* * *
Jackson furrowed his brow. Could this really be her? Ava Duggar? From the description she'd given him in her letters, she seemed to match. Tallish, slim, dedicate looking with a small nose and fine ivory skin. Looked like she'd never seen the sun, he thought. But as she was from Philly, that might go some way to explaining that.
But she hadn't said anything in her correspondence about a limp. He took his hat off and scratched his head. Perhaps she'd just had a recent injury, or her leg had become cramped during the long stage coach journey. Yes, that made sense. It was probably nothing to be concerned over. He cleared his throat and strode over to her, trying to maintain his usual confident manner. To his surprise though, he felt nervous. Not used to this feeling, he tried to shake it off, gave himself a quick talking to as he approached his soon-to-be bride. "Come on now, there's nothing to worry about! She's just a woman, for crying out loud."
She wasn't just a woman though, and something in Jackson's heart and stomach were telling him that. He took a deep breath before he finally spoke to the woman in the white and blue lace dress, startling her as he did so.
"Ava?" he asked.
She remained seated, knowing it was proper to stand, but worried her leg would not hold her under such circumstances. She nodded and looked at him briefly before she averted her gaze back to the ground.
Jackson stood there for a second and cleared his throat again. He reached a hand out shyly and coughed. "Here, let me help you up."
"Oh," Ava said quietly. "There's no need. Truly, I can stand up myself."
He brought his hand back and placed it in his pocket for a moment, before bringing it back out, not quite knowing what to do. He finally reached over for her bag. "Let me take this for you then."
"Thank you," Ava said, still sitting, hands placed in her laps, as she caught a few glimpses of this strange man from under her bonnet.
He was no dirty, dusty, miner; that was for sure. He was gleaming clean, with a bright, wide smile and perfect teeth standing straight in a row. The only touch of wildness about him was perhaps his hair: certainly longer than the men back in Philadelphia had worn it. But she supposed there might not be much cause to go to the barber in a town like this. Besides, his slightly-too-long brown curls fell onto his face in a way that she found strangely attractive. Jackson didn't look like any man she'd ever seen back home.
Finally, she placed one hand besides her on the seat and used the weight of her arm to lift herself up, carefully balancing herself on her good leg, as she was so used to doing. She caught a flicker of concern in Jackson's eyes as she did so. They each looked away from the other before their gazes locked for too long.
"Did you...did you have a safe journey?" Jackson asked.
"Yes. Fine, thank you," Ava answered politely, attempting to walk.
"Oh. That's good. I just thought you may have had some sort of... discomfort on the coach."
"No, I'm fine," she answered quickly.
"Right," he said, turning away and carrying her bag.
As they walked along in silence, Jackson wondered how he could broach the subject. In Gold Creek, he was used to talking a little bit more candidly and freely; there was something about creating a new settlement that caused the residents to occasionally do away with their manners, but he could tell that Ava Duggar was from a different kind of town. It seemed awfully improper to just come right out and ask what was wrong with her leg. Was it just a temporary injury - a result of the cramped conditions on the coach? Or was it something more serious?
* * *
The wedding ceremony ended with a cheer as Jackson's men - Benji, Doc, and other friends came up to slap him on the back and offer their congratulations. The women nodded graciously, eyeing Ava with a mixture of both shyness and suspicion.
"Pretty, yes," Clarabelle whispered to her friend. "But so proper! Look at how she stand so straight and still."
"And with that cane," the other one whispered before they collapsed in hushed whispers. Ava tried to ignore their bad manners, and, in fact, found it quite easy to do so as her head was full of a thousand other thoughts. She barely had time to make head nor tail of her new surroundings. Her fine dress felt tight and restrictive against her skin in the baking hot sun. And every time she moved, she kicked more dirt and dust up onto her skirt.
The people here are so rowdy, she thought, looking around at the people, in their plain clothes and hats, hooting and hollering at the wedding celebrations. A far cry from the sort of decency she was used to back in Philly. She stayed close by to her new husband, not wishing to leave his sight, as the rest of the town folk came up and took a good look at her. She smiled politely and bowed her head each time a compliment was bestowed upon her, blushing at how forward, how familiar, some of the people were as they spoke to her.
Then there was the town itself. She couldn't help staring in dismay as she looked at the make-shift buildings that passed for shops and stores in this town. Some of them looked as though they could blow right over if a strong gust of wind was to blow though the main street.
She told herself to take a deep breath, to not rush to judgment.
This is my home now. It's time to make the best of it, not to jump to conclusions and to see the worst. After all, the people seem kind, and friendly enough, and as far as the buildings go, this is a new town. Things can't be perfect right away.
As the men of the town flocked around her and her husband, congratulating Jackson on his new, pretty bride from Philadelphia, Ava stood silently, taking it all in.
Doc turned to Ava and grinned at her. "I hope you're ready for the life of the wife of a politician!" He winked at Ava, who turned away, feeling as though she had been punched in the stomach.
* * *
As they travelled back from the wedding, a silence fell between them. There was so much both of them wanted to ask, but neither of them felt comfortable to broach the subjects that hung there untouched. Ava took note of the small, new settlement as they passed through it. She was used to the tall building. The steel and rock of Philly, and the rickety wooden buildings with their windows that banged in the wind, and the doors that looked like they might just fall off their hinges at the slightest hint of wind, made her nervous.
Eventually, it was Ava who spoke up first. "You want to become a politician?" she asked. She tried to keep her voice steady and calm, but she could hear the sense of dismay that came out anyway. "Was that really true, what that man said to me, or was he simply teasing me?"
Jackson nodded. "Yes, I do wish to enter the political game. Eventually when Gold Creek is up and running - fully functional, of course. There's still a lot of work to be done here. It could be many years before I am ready to leave for San Francisco."
Ava remained dead silent. She had no idea what to say in response to this terrible revelation. A politician? After everything she had gone through with her pa? Oh, but Jackson wasn't to know all of that. She'd never told him anything about her parents. It had all been too painful to mention. She'd never have dreamed that her future husband would be wanting to join the same profession that she'd just run away from.
"Ava, I need to ask you something as well," Jackson finally said.
She was shaken out of her own thoughts. "Of course," she said, politely. "There shouldn't be any secrets between us now that we are husband and wife."
"What's wrong with your leg?" he asked, a little too bluntly.
She coughed a little. Jackson may have been her husband, but she was still not used to people asking in such a straightforward manner. Back home, people had stared but never asked questions.
"An accident," she replied softly. "When I was eighteen. Thirteen years ago or thereabout."
She dared to glance at him from under her bonnet, to sneak a peek at his reaction to that. She saw it: there was no mistaking the crestfallen expression along with the disappointment that flooded his face.
"Oh," he said, at last. "So, it's...permanent then."
"It is."
They continued to walk in silence for half a mile.
"Ava," Jackson said finally. "I want things to be perfect between us."
"Perfect?" she asked, looking up at him and frowning. "Jackson, you do know there's no such thing as perfect, don't you?" These were the most words she had spoken to him since their wedding. She was surprised at the passion in her voice. Perfect? Who spoke in such a way? She found herself dismayed now, to see that she had married such an idealistic dreamer. What kind of expectations must he have of her? Of their marriage? She couldn't manage 'perfect'. All her life she felt like she'd barely managed 'adequate'. She knew she wasn't perfect. One look down at her leg confirmed that.
If he wanted perfect, how was she ever going to be good enough for him?
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
* * *
4
The Trouble Starts
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“ With what happened … being jilted at
the aisle. It's hardly a memory she can
ever forget, but now is the time to move on. ”
.
Gold Creek,
1849,
one month later .
With his reputation back intact, and the good favor of the town restored to him, Jackson took off down to his mine one particularly bright late Spring morning with a renewed confid
ence. Luck certainly seemed to have turned around for him since those premature warnings a month earlier. His men must have been overreacting! Business down at the mine had been running smoothly ever since, with no sign of any further damage to the creek bed. In fact, Jackson had almost forgotten about all those old troubles when he arrived at the mine that morning.
There were worries in his head though, sure. Just not about the mine.
His mind was foggy with other concerns that revolved around his new bride, Ava. Jackson was, as far as he was concerned, putting on a brave face when he was around Ava. Trying not to let her know how deep his worries ran. He'd seen how out of place she was in Gold Creek. How the other women gossiped about her, the way they looked at her, in her proper clothes, and her strange walk. He wanted to protect her from them, from anyone who would speak unkindly about her, but he wasn't sure how. Even with him, she still seemed so reserved. How could he look after her when she wouldn't let him? She'd barely even speak to him about her handicap, and the troubles she faced.
Perhaps, she was putting on her own brave face, he pondered, as he reached the gold mine. He vowed to speak with her that evening, and made a promise to himself that they would talk properly and lay all these issues out.
Joe Colt, a farmer who owned a property and farm that backed onto the edge of the mine, came running over to him, practically shaking a fist as he ran. His face was red as a beet as he started exclaiming.
"Woah there," Jackson said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Slow down there Joe. I can't make out a word you're saying when you're hollering like that. Take a deep breath and tell me what the matter is."
"I'll tell you what's the matter alright," Joe sputtered, his straw hat almost falling to the ground as he hopped from one foot to the other in some kind of angry dance. "Your bleedin' mine has caused irreparable damage to my crops! The soil is all but ruined, where my farm runs onto it. How am I supposed to feed my family? How am I supposed to support any of us when I can't grow my crops?"