RNWMP: Bride for George
Page 1
RNWMP: Bride for George
Mail Order Mounties
Kirsten Osbourne
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
A Note to Our Readers
About the Author
Also by Kirsten Osbourne
1
George Jacobs sat at his desk in the Mountie office in Flying Squirrel, Northwest Territories. He was surrounded by the three men who he had been working with for the past couple of years.
Richard Murray was doing all the talking, and the other three of them were doing the listening. “My sister and my three brothers have had Mountie marriages arranged by Miss Hazel. I tell you, she’s a miracle of modern matchmaking. Mail order brides, and she never misses!”
George shrugged. He was a great deal older than the men under his command, rapidly reaching retirement age. “I don’t have a problem if the three of you send off for brides, but I don’t feel the need to marry at this point in my life. I’m just looking forward to retiring in a little cabin on a lake. I’ll hunt and fish and never again think about trying to catch a criminal. Life will be quiet and good.”
Richard shrugged, looking at the other two men. “What about you two? You with me on this? Just think of coming home at the end of a long day with a beautiful woman having a delicious meal already cooked and waiting for you. It’s like a dream.”
Curtis Lange popped his gum as he thought it through. “I could do that. Not having to cook for myself would make me happy. And I wouldn’t mind a pretty girl in my arms either.”
Red-headed Liam looked at the others, his face thoughtful. “Think I could get a pretty Irish girl?”
“No idea,” Richard responded. “I guess I could ask, but that seems like a strange request. I’m going to write to my sister and tell her we need three brides. She’ll know what to do from there.”
George got to his feet and walked over to the window, looking out. “May I suggest the three of you start cleaning your cabins then? They’re always messier than they should be, and your new wives aren’t going to be thrilled with them.”
Hazel Hughes—Miss Hazel to all who knew her—was ready for a new adventure. She loved her hobby of hooking up Mounties with young ladies, but she was starting to get restless. The past year of matchmaking had made her realize that she wasn’t too old to have a life. Her first grandchild had just been born, and she was the happiest woman alive—other than her mild case of discontent, which she was still trying her best to understand.
Looking around her at her immaculate house, she couldn’t help but wonder how long she would be content to live through the girls she was sending out to be brides. Never before had she thought she could get past her all-consuming love for her Stanley, but suddenly, the idea of having a love of her own was taking hold.
She laughed softly at herself. She had a mirror. How would a man ever choose an overweight middle-aged woman—a grandmother—to be his bride? Hazel wasn’t one to blush . . . she never had been. Blushing bride would never fit her. It hadn’t when she was twenty and had married Stanley, and it certainly wouldn’t now. Shaking her head, she looked down at the letter in her hand, thinking she needed to find good matches for the three Mounties who had requested brides.
She knew one of the ladies would need to be Caitlyn Hennessy. Hazel had already matched two of her sisters, and Caitlyn had recently contacted her. She read through the letter from her daughter-in-law Jess again. Jess had been the first girl she’d matched with a Mountie—her own son, Theodore. Jess had finally had her baby—Hazel’s first grandbaby—and Hazel planned to travel to British Columbia after this round of women was dropped off in the Northwest Territories. She couldn’t wait to hold the baby in her arms. Her very own grandchild.
Hazel had wanted twenty-seven children when she’d married Stanley. She’d known that twenty-seven was a large number, but she’d always dreamed of filling the big house she and her husband had settled into. Instead, it had taken her years to get pregnant. That first pregnancy had been difficult for her, but the miscarriages after had been so much worse. At least she’d had her Teddy to hold after that first pregnancy. After that it had been loss after loss.
For a few years, Hazel had felt as if she wasn’t a complete woman. Her Stanley had loved her through the losses. He’d loved her through the birth of their only child. He’d been her strongest supporter and most steadfast companion. When he’d died, Teddy had been a teenager, and she’d been left alone to raise him. Ever since, she’d felt burdened by his memory. Oh, she’d allowed herself to live. She’d had fun. She’d even done some traveling in the past year. But her heart had been closed.
Looking down at her left hand, she saw the ring she’d worn for over thirty-five years. It was way past time to take it off, and she knew it. Carefully, she pulled the ring off her finger and set it on her desk. Time to move on. Time to live again.
Three weeks later, Miss Hazel was ready for her trip to Northwest Territories. She had never been, and she was excited. Her traveling companions were the three brides who were going to be marrying the three Mounties there.
Adele and Violet sat together in the seat in front of them on the train. The two girls had become fast friends, drawn to one another instantly though they were complete opposites in personality. Beside Hazel was Caitlyn Hennessy. “Are you nervous?” Hazel asked softly.
“A little. But I know the matches you made for my sisters were good, and they encouraged me to do this.”
“Your sisters were two of my favorite girls that I’ve matched . . . along with all the others. I feel like I already know you well even though we only met a week ago.” Miss Hazel watched the world fly past the window she was looking out. The trip to the Northwest Territories was a long one, and she was pleased she wasn’t making it alone.
Caitlyn smiled and then settled back further into the seat. “I think I’m going to try and nap. The trip will go faster that way.”
“Can you imagine having to make a journey like this before there were trains? Walking beside a covered wagon with oxen?” Miss Hazel asked the question but didn’t expect an answer and didn’t receive one. She could imagine it well, but she’d always known her imagination was a tad bit more active than most.
She didn’t need to have anyone to talk to as she watched out the window, imagining how difficult that walk would have been with a small child and a young husband. How she missed having a man wrap his arms around her and make her feel safe.
When they reached Flying Squirrel, Miss Hazel was the first off the train as usual. She looked around for red serge jackets, knowing they would be the men her girls were there to marry. When she spotted four men grouped together, she was taken aback but only for a moment before she understood. The men must have brought along their commanding officer, a downright handsome man with gray hair and a beard. Hazel hadn’t seen a man and immediately felt it in the pit of her stomach since she’d spotted Stanley for the first time, but she was experiencing it now.
She walked straight to the group to introduce herself. “I’m Hazel Hughes, but everyone just calls me Miss Hazel. The girls are making their way off the train now. They were all in a hurry to get on it for their adventure, but they’re equally slow about getting off.” She tried not to stare at the older Mountie, though she was very attracted to him. She didn’t know what her problem was. She never looked at a man and lost her mind, but she felt very close at that moment.
The older man who was with them removed his hat and held it to
his chest. “It’s good to meet you, Miss Hazel. I’ve heard many tales of your matchmaking services.”
“Never believe anything you hear about a lady, Mr. . . .”
“Jacobs. George Jacobs. I’m the commanding officer of these three miscreants—err . . . fine Mounties.” George winked at her, immediately drawn to the woman. She had a sparkle in her eye that most women her age had long since lost.
Miss Hazel cackled at his words. “Miscreants, are they? We’ll see what my girls think of them.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh, here they finally are now.” She introduced each of the Mounties to his bride. “Richard, this is Violet. Richard is from a large family of Mounties. I’ve matched his sister and brothers.” She paused, giving the two of them a moment to look at each other and smile. “Curtis, this is Caitlyn Hennessy. She’s the third Hennessy girl I’ve matched.” After a moment where they smiled at each other, which seemed to be the only thing people could do when introduced to someone they were going to marry in less than an hour, she introduced the third couple. “Liam, this is Adele. She’s your bride.”
It was only after she’d introduced all three of the women that Hazel realized she usually brought the girls out in groups of four. It was odd that this group was just three, but it wasn’t like they were living in romance novels, where it had to be the same every single time.
As the three couples drifted into pairs and talked amongst themselves, Miss Hazel turned her attention back to George. “I hope you have a preacher lined up. It’s so much easier if we can get them before a man of God as soon as we get off the train. That way there’s no chance they will argue and not want to marry immediately.” One of the first couples she’d matched had done that, and it had made her just a bit crazier than she already was.
George laughed. “I guess you’re the one with experience at these things. I’ve never married myself.”
Miss Hazel merely smiled. It was odd to see a man his age who had never married, but she knew lots of times Mounties were encouraged not to marry. It was a distraction from their duties they could ill afford. The young ladies of Canada were in love with their uniforms, though, and some of them wanted to marry.
“Have you ever married, Miss Hazel?”
She nodded. “Yes, I was married for many years. I was widowed sixteen years ago. I have a son who is a Mountie whose wife just had my first grandchild.” She rubbed the third finger on her left hand as she spoke, missing the ring that had been there for most of her life.
For a moment, George’s eyes looked sad. “A boy or girl?”
“Boy. They named him Jack. I’m going to see him on my way home to Ottawa.” But she didn’t know what she’d do after that. She was seriously considering moving to British Columbia to be near her grandchild, but she wasn’t sure if her son would want his meddling mother around. And even she had to admit she was a meddling mother. After all, she had taken her son a bride without warning him first. It had all worked out in the end, and Miss Hazel believed that the end justified the means. And all was fair in love and war. And a lot of other clichés she didn’t want to admit to!
“Do you plan to continue with your matchmaking?” he asked, seeing something in her face that made him wonder.
“I haven’t decided. It’s kept me very distracted for the past year, and I’m sure everyone around me is thankful I found something to keep me out of mischief. I’m just not certain it’s something I want to do forever. I think it might be time for me to move on. I’m contemplating my circumstances.” She wished there was someone who could tell her what to do, though if they did, she probably would refuse to do it just on principle.
George decided not to pursue that line of questioning. She obviously had something that was troubling her, and he wondered what it could be. “I’m sure my men are going to be very happy with the lovely ladies you brought them. They’re all looking just a bit smitten at the moment.”
Miss Hazel laughed softly. “Smitten is such a lovely word, and it certainly fits how most of the couples I bring together act when they first marry.” She wanted to add that she was slightly smitten with him, but she knew it wasn’t appropriate, though she wasn’t certain why that was stopping her now.
“Well, let’s drag them all down to the preacher. He’s ready to perform all three weddings.” George offered Hazel his arm, wondering if she’d accept it. He’d not felt as smitten as he did at that moment since he had joined the force. It really was a wonderful word.
Miss Hazel hesitated for a moment before she took his arm, her hand feeling small and delicate against him. She hadn’t felt small and delicate since—well, it had been too many years for her to be willing to recollect. “Come along, girls. We’re heading to the preacher.” For once as they walked toward the weddings, Miss Hazel wasn’t concentrating only on the women she’d brought with her as brides. For once, she was thinking about herself. “Is there a hotel here in town?”
George shook his head. “No, there’s not, but the couple who owns our mercantile will sometimes allow people to stay with them for a small fee. I’ve already arranged that for you.”
“It sounds like you’ve thought of everything, Mr. Jacobs.”
George didn’t correct her with his actual title. He liked how she said his name. The mister, which would have seemed too formal with someone else, seemed right from her lips. “Is there any chance I could persuade you to call me George?”
Hazel felt a flutter in her stomach. The same kind of flutter she’d felt years ago when she and Stanley had first started courting. “I do believe I could do that. You may call me either Hazel or Miss Hazel. It’s up to you.”
He smiled over at her, thinking about how pretty her eyes were. He wanted to keep this woman, and that startled him in a way nothing had in a great many years. “I think I’m going to call you Miss Hazel. It just feels right.”
Hazel wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed by his answer. She hadn’t been called anything but Miss Hazel for many years. Not since her Stanley had passed . . . but it felt so respectful coming from his lips. She felt respect was important as a couple started out in a relationship.
She stopped walking, feeling one of the others walk into her. She turned and saw it was Liam, tall and gangly, and she apologized softly. Relationship? Had that word just crossed her mind about George? Was she ready for that? She looked at her ringless finger where it rested on his arm. Yes, she was ready. She had to be.
Once they reached the church, the three weddings took place one after the other. She sat quietly beside George, no longer touching him, but her fingers still tingled where she had. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a young lady with her first beau, rather than an old matron of too many years for her to admit . . . even to herself.
After the weddings were over, they got to their feet, and she congratulated each of the men, offering best wishes to the ladies. “I hope you find what you’re looking for here,” she whispered to Caitlyn.
Caitlyn pulled back and smiled. “I hope you do, too.”
As Miss Hazel was still puzzling over those words, the three young couples went off in different directions. “They’ll live close?” Hazel asked.
“Each of their homes is within a half mile of town. They’ll be able to see each other every day if they choose to.”
Hazel smiled at that. “That’s a relief. One of the reasons I like to bring the girls out in groups is so they have friends when they arrive. I’ve heard many stories of how isolated it can be to be married to a Mountie, not living around anyone but First Peoples who don’t speak any English.”
“We do have some of that here, but there are some women who speak English. They’ll have to adjust to being around people who don’t speak their language.”
“I think the ladies will adjust easily. I’m not so certain I could.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’ve lived in the same home since I turned twenty and married my Stanley. I cannot imagine not having that place as my anchor.”
Hazel laughed. “Until a year ago, those memories were the only things keeping me going. Now, I’m stronger. I love travel. I’ve been to Boston and many of our own provinces and territories now. I just . . . I think maybe I’m too much a creature of habit to be willing to leave my comfortable home in Ottawa. I keep thinking it might be nice to live in British Columbia where my son and his wife are . . . and my new grandbaby of course. I can’t wait to hold that little boy in my arms.”
George nodded. “Let me show you to the mercantile. I hope you’ll be happy in whatever you decide to do, Miss Hazel. A lady as beautiful and kind as you are deserves to have every ounce of happiness life could possibly give her.” He offered his arm again, wishing he had taken his own advice and cleaned his cabin. Then he could invite her for supper.
“Beautiful?” Miss Hazel said with a laugh. “I have looked in mirrors recently, George. I know how I look.”
“Have you never heard the phrase beauty is in the eye of the beholder? I promise you, I enjoy beholding you a great deal, Miss Hazel. I could gaze into your eyes for hours.” He stopped walking and looked down at her. “How long will you be in Flying Squirrel?”
“Long enough to ensure all of my girls are being treated well by their new husbands, and then I’ll be on my way.” For once, Hazel wasn’t in a hurry to stop and see her son on her way home. She wanted to stay there and get to know George better. What had come over her?