[2016] Alone and Pregnant

by Christian Michael

  But the man who stepped into the candlelight was not Jonah.

  “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

  The man laughed harshly. “The name’s Frank, darling. I see my son hasn’t mentioned me. Too bad. I told him what I would do to the one he loves. He must not have believed me.”

  As he spoke, he drew a knife out of his pocket. Its edge glowed sharply in the small light as he advanced on her. “That was a very touching scene you shared in the foyer.”

  “You were watching us?”

  “Indeed I was. I’ve been trailing you since this morning when you arrived at the festival. After I saw that kiss, I came back here and waited for you.”

  As he spoke, Bianca edged sideways and Frank matched her moves, circling her, as if toying with her.

  “Why?”

  “My son stole my wife from me and now I will steal his from him. I warned him long ago that I would.”

  Sudden understanding dawned on Bianca. “You’re the reason why he’s been so hesitant to take our marriage forward.” She didn’t fully understand but she knew she was right.

  The back of her legs hit the table behind her and she grasped a heavy paperweight before moving away and closer to the door.

  Frank followed her but he was done talking. He lunged at Bianca with the knife but she threw the paperweight at him with all her might and it caught him on the side of the head, dazing him. Bianca didn’t wait. She pulled the door open and ran out of the bedroom and then out into the yard, screaming for Jonah along the way.

  She heard Frank crash through the living room and follow her. She twisted back to look and slipped on the ice in front of her and fell. Frank was faster than he seemed and the paperweight hadn’t done much damage.

  He covered the distance between him and his pray quickly. Bianca tried to scramble away from him but the ice was slippery and Frank got to her first. He turned her over and straddled her stomach. The knife glinted in his hand in the moonlight as he raised it above his head with a maniacal laugh. When he brought it down, Bianca braced herself, just as a loud boom shook the night air and Frank screamed in agony as the knife went flying and blood spurted from his hand. Another boom and Frank’s shoulder jerked and he fell back away from Bianca.

  Jonah came up alongside her, shotgun to his shoulder. He pulled her up with one hand, keeping the other steadily on the trigger of the gun firmly aimed at the other man. Bianca scrambled up and Jonah swept her behind him.

  He slowly advanced on Frank but the man didn’t move. When Jonah stepped over him, he was surprised to see Frank looking at him with wide, glazed eyes. A dead man’s gaze. Jonah turned him over and found the knife Frank had used on Bianca lodged in his back. It must have landed hilt first in the snow when it was shot out of Frank’s hand and Frank had impaled himself on it when he fell back from the second shot.

  Jonah felt nothing but relief. The shadow specter of Frank Cassidy was no longer hanging over his life like a gloom. He was free.

  The next week, on Christmas morning, Jonah and Bianca sat down before the hearth and sipped on hot chocolate. They had a pile of wrapping paper flung all over the living room and both were as giddy as children as they took in their gifts. Jonah excused himself and went to his room. When he came back out, he had a small package wrapped in gold with a red bow in his hands.

  Bianca looked at him curiously when he presented it to her. I bought it a month ago but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give it to you. At least, not until the Christmas Festival. I had already decided that I would give it to you that morning and Frank’s demise just gave me more of a confirmation.

  “I am sorry about what he put you and your mom through, Jonah. I am glad he can’t hurt you anymore.” Jonah had explained everything about Frank to her after that fateful night and Bianca was glad Jonah was finally able to move past it.

  She carefully unwrapped the package and opened the small box inside. The gift inside stunned her. Jonah knelt next to her.

  “I know I said when I met you that I did not want a wife, only a maid. But you changed all of that. You turned my world upside down. You are genuine and generous, practical and fun. I can’t imagine anyone else that I would rather spend the rest of my life with. We have been married for several months now but as of yet, we have not lived as husband and wife. But I love you and I want you to be mine alone. Bianca Cassidy, would you be my wife and companion from this day on for as long as God gives us breath to share?”

  Bianca just stared at him. Her Christmas miracle had occurred. He was everything she ever wanted and she loved him with all that she had.

  Bianca leaned forward and kissed Jonah. She didn’t have words to say what she wanted to say but he knew what she was saying all the same. He slipped the ring on her finger and enfolded her in his embrace.

  *****

  THE END.

  Desperate for Love

  Mail Order Bride

  CHRISTIAN MICHAEL

  Chapter One

  Laura was bent low before the fire, stirring the coals to coax whatever heat there might be left when a flurry of boots sounded on the broken step leading to her porch. She pulled her shawl more closely around herself and pushed her ebony-colored curls behind her ears. She had already taken her hair down for the night and was in her bed gown; it was much roomier for the child she carried. As she rose, she had to catch the edge of the mantle to steady herself. The baby was beginning to make her a bit dizzy if she rose quickly.

  Midnight blue eyes huge, she started toward the door as the pounding began, picking up a cheap metal picture frame of her wedding picture and secreting it behind her skirts.

  “Yes?” she called through the door.

  “You Laura Tyler?” came a gruff voice and she heard the rumble of other voices as well.

  “Yes, who are you?” she called back.

  “We got your husband, Wendel,” came the voice. “He’s dead, ma’am.”

  Laura’s knees went weak and she unlocked the door as she sank to the floor. The men pushed open the door around her and she saw her husband, Wendel, slumped on the porch, blood still wet and staining his vest. There was no mistaking it; he was dead.

  Tears rose to her eyes and she gasped, trying to absorb what was happening; a protective hand lying over her swelling belly. One of the men frowned and bent down to help her to her feet and then to lie back against the threadbare settee next to the fire. As she pulled her shawl up to cover her eyes, the man peeked into the only bedroom and said, “Put him on the bed, fellas,” and motioned them through the doorway.

  “What happened?” Laura managed to ask between sobs.

  “Your man palmed a card, ma’am. Joe Stevens doesn’t think too kindly of that and it cost your man a bullet. Sorry, ma’am…you bein’ with child and all,” he finished and tipped his hat as the men disappeared out the door, closing it gently behind themselves. A clatter of boots and they were gone.

  Laura sat for a bit on the sofa until she felt herself ready and then she went in to look at Wendel. How she had loved him when they first married. She realized she was still holding their wedding photo in her hand and lifted it to gaze upon it. He was so handsome she thought to herself. When did things begin to go so wrong? I know he wanted the baby…but we have so little money. That’s why he cheated, she concluded, but knew in her heart that her husband would not have needed an excuse to cheat at cards. He came by the habit quite naturally.

  Chapter Two

  After Wendel’s funeral, Laura had some hard decisions to make. Wendel hadn’t had a job for some time and what little money he had picked up here and there, he lost or drank away. He had disgraced himself and wasn’t welcome in any gentleman’s club or even in private homes. Laura had picked up a little money on the side herself, but she’d put it away for the baby’s needs. Babies weren’t cheap.

  She counted the bills and coins in the tin now and realized there wasn’t enough to keep things running much longer. She felt the baby kick just then, as if urgi
ng her to do something. What can I do? she thought to herself. She had no family and Wendel’s only sibling, a brother, lived somewhere in Texas and she had no idea how to even get a message to him about Wendel’s death.

  There really weren’t any jobs in town for a woman, much less a woman who was expecting. She wasn’t sleeping well; the worry was making her even more sickly than the strain of carrying a baby. She began to have a dreaded fear that if something didn’t change, and quickly, she’d lose the baby altogether.

  To raise her spirits, she got dressed and walked slowly down the street toward the café on the corner. There, she ordered a cup of coffee and watched the waitresses bustling about, their apron pockets jingling with the change from tips. The atmosphere was sparse; it was the sort of place meant for the working class. She was fairly sure that at one time or another, one of those ladies in aprons had known a similar dire set of circumstances.

  “Here you go,” came the cheery delivery of her coffee order. “Anythin’ else?” The woman’s face was kind, almost genial in a mothering sort of way.

  Laura took a chance. “Well, I know this is very unusual, but you see I’m in a bit of a fix,” she began, her hand inadvertently going to cover her tummy.

  “Ahhh, I see. Kiss and gone, eh?” said the waitress, nodding with a knowing look in her eye.

  “No, no…nothing like that. I’m widowed, you see,” Laura began. “My name is Laura Tyler and my husband was shot last week…” she continued.

  “Lidie’s my name,” said the waitress and looking back toward the kitchen, she pulled out the chair opposite Laura and sat down, the coffee pot still in her hand. She leaned forward, “I know who you are…I’m sorry. We all heard. A few of us even…even…” she blushed, “knew him,” she finished. Hurriedly she added, “He came in here a lot to drink coffee and sober up, if you know what I mean,” she went on.

  Laura nodded sadly. “Yes, I can imagine. But you see, he didn’t leave me with anything, in fact there’s a bit of debt. I have a baby coming,” she paused and touched her tummy again, “and I’m looking for work. Is there any chance someone here could use me? Maybe to wash dishes in the back, somewhere that I’d be out of sight?”

  Lidie frowned, pushing away a lock of dyed red hair that had fallen over her forehead. “No, honey, not a thing. We’re all scrappin’ here, if you know what I mean.” She felt sorry for Laura. At least the women here weren’t expecting. Suddenly she had an idea. “Look, wait right here!” she jumped up and soon returned with a newspaper. Opening it, she found what she was looking for and folded the paper in half, pointing to an ad in the classifieds section. “Read that, honey. It might be the only thing you can do.” With that she returned to the kitchen and Laura was left alone to read the classified for her fate.

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks later found Laura perched on the worn velvet seat of a train coach, bound for Colorado. In her hands was a crumpled newspaper, an ad circled and notes written in the margin.

  Laura thought she would be ill; she was so nervous. Lidie had changed her life; and that of her unborn child. The newspaper had displayed an ad for mail order brides. Women were rare in the West and plentiful in the East. Thus, a booming industry had sprung up to fill the need and that’s what brought Laura to where she sat at that very moment.

  She had responded to the ad immediately and included a photo; in fact, it was her half of the wedding photo, the only photo she owned of herself. The reply was quick in coming—a telegraph came within a few weeks and included a money order for her fare, travel expenses and a small allowance for clothing. Laura had sold everything she had to settle Wendel’s debts and boarded the train for the West. At some point midway, she would transfer to a coach, for the train went no further west.

  In her hand was also a photo of the man who would become her new husband. His name was Rory Newton and she could tell even in the worn photo that he was a fine figure of a man. Nevertheless, Rory had attached a letter to his offer and stressed that he was not necessarily only looking for a wife, but for a helpmate to tend to the house, cook, do the laundry and who had some knowledge of chickens and gardening.

  This was not a dishonorable, or even unusual situation for women who were no longer “fresh off the vine.” These women were generally decent, widowed or never married and sometimes had a young child or two. They had been left with few options to provide for themselves and the Western men had need of a helpmate to keep their farm and homestead going. Thus, it was more of a business arrangement, even though marriage would be involved for propriety’s sake.

  Laura tried to nap, knowing that once she was on the coach, it would be very difficult to sleep. Sleep was long in coming, however. The train pulled into a small station and Laura noticed a man making his way down the aisle and took a seat directly opposite her. He nodded and removed his hat in respect.

  “Ma’am,” he murmured.

  Laura nodded.

  He settled his luggage beneath his seat and put his hat back on and pulled it down low over his brow to block and light and activity going on around him. This gave Laura a chance to surreptitiously look him over. He was tall, well over six feet, and most of his height was in his legs. His clothing was neat and well-made, but his hands were rough. This was not a businessman; of that she was certain. Laura had noticed that he was cleanly shaven and tanned and knew that meant he probably worked out of doors. She could feel herself blush at her thoughts. He must have felt her eyes on him for he quietly said, “Name’s Dallas; Ben Dallas.”

  Laura knew it wasn’t proper to strike up a conversation with a strange man, particularly if one was travelling alone, but her position in the social rankings had fallen dramatically as of late and she knew that as a mail order bride, she had entered a new low. However, it would be a long trip and she could use some company to steady her nerves.

  “I’m Laura Tyler, Mr. Dallas. It’s a pleasure,” she leaned forward and extended her lace-gloved hand.

  As she leaned forward, Ben couldn’t help but notice her neckline and the way the thin gold chain with a tiny locket lay in the crevice between her bosom. He felt stirred by this…and it was a feeling he hadn’t felt for some time. He found it rather pleasant.

  He tipped the brim of his hat. “Miss Tyler,” he acknowledged.

  “Mrs. Tyler,” she quickly corrected him, her hand going inadvertently to the rise in her tummy.

  Ben noticed the gesture and even though her skirts were full, he could see what she protected. It generated a protective sense within himself at the same time. Where is all this coming from? he wondered. Is it that blue-black hair or those sapphire eyes?

  Laura was unaware of his scrutiny and wondered just how far she might take their conversation before she was truly “inappropriate.” She hesitated only a moment before asking, “Going far?” She immediately blushed at the implication her question could have inspired, but Ben seemed content to answer.

  “Near Denver, eventually. Will switch to the stage where the rail ends,” he explained.

  Laura’s eyebrows raised. “What a coincidence! I’m going to Denver, too!”

  “Is that so?” he answered, and smiled.

  Laura felt something akin to relief that maybe she would have a pseudo travelling companion. Even though this man was an absolute stranger, she had to admit that she liked his attitude and she could have certainly ended up sitting across from someone far less desirable. She settled back with a soft smile on her face and now relaxed, fell promptly asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Laura was jostled awake and almost slid to the floor. Ben leapt forward to catch her, lifting her carefully back into her seat.

  She pushed the curls back from her face and whispered, “Thank you,” to him and then blushed a bit at the sensations his arms left behind.

  “My pleasure,” he said softly and smiled. “I think the rail is blocked by a small herd of cattle,” he said with some authority.

  “Really?” Laura was baffled.
“How can you tell from here?”

  Ben pointed out the window. You can see their hoof prints in the mud. Probably was a route for a cattle drive years ago—these are probably strays that broke away. Cattle remember that sort of thing,” he added.

  Laura nodded and conjectured whether this meant he had been a man with cattle at some point. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “You’ve only been asleep an hour,” he told her. “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded and reached for her bag.

  “Here, allow me,” he said and stood up. “There’s a dining car a few cars down. I’ll bring you somethin’ back.”

  “Oh!” she said, thinking of her finances. She wasn’t prepared for the prices the dining car would likely charge.

  Ben held his hand up. “No, no, you’re my guest,” he assured her. His tweed vest expanded as he stood fully and his chest took in a deep breath. Laura’s eyes grew large and his misinterpreted this.

  “Don’t worry none. I can easily handle it.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’m grateful,” she said softly and Ben thought he would drown in her deep blue eyes. Her pregnancy put a glow on her cheeks and the effect made his knees weak.

  He tipped his hat and left the car, returning a while later with a waiter bearing a massive tray. The waiter set up the try between their facing seats and Ben waved him away and removed the covers himself. Beneath was a delicious assortment of sliced meats, broiled potatoes, three different vegetables, and a platter of pastries. “This,” Ben held forth a glass of white milk, “is for you, my dear.” She smiled in gratitude, attempting to ignore the familiar tone of his reference and began picking at the banquet he had brought.

  Night had fallen and Ben was stretching. Laura smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m sleepy, too,” she commented.

  “Good, because part two of your surprise is about to take place.”