Christmas Mail Order Angels: The complete 11 Volume Set

by Darlene Franklin

  “I have a feeling winter’s no picnic in these mountains,” Jim said.

  “No, it’s more of a sleigh ride with a blizzard at the end.” And Jim Barrett wasn’t the type who liked to be snowbound, apparently. Still, it wouldn’t pay to make assumptions, Edwin told himself. He would wait and see.

  ###

  On Saturday, Isabella was shocked to learn she had received mail. Nelle Pugh, now Mrs. Riley Thornton, stopped by the lodgings.

  “Hello, Isabella. I shan’t stop,” Nelle said.

  “Oh, can’t you have a cup of tea?” The pleasure at seeing another friendly face shot through Isabella, and she had a sudden longing for a long conversation with Nelle.

  “I’m afraid not. My husband is waiting for me. I just stopped to tell you that Mr. Underwood has a letter for you at the mercantile. The post rider was here this morning, and he left it. Jake asked me to let you know if I saw you, and so I thought I’d pop in and see how you are doing.”

  “I’m fine,” Isabella said.

  “Have you and Edwin set a date yet?”

  “No, but I’m hoping it’s soon. He still isn’t sure about the housing situation at the ranch.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nelle said. “I’ll pray that it happens soon.”

  “Thank you. All is well with you?”

  Nelle’s cheeks flushed. “Very well, thank you. I hope to see you again soon.”

  She kissed Isabella on the cheek and hurried off to where her husband waited beside his wagon. Nelle climbed to the seat with his assistance and turned to wave.

  Isabella refused to allow herself to feel bereft, though her hopes for a good visit had been dashed. Instead she went back inside for her cloak and gloves and hurried to the mercantile. The newspaper’s owner stood in front of her at the counter, and Isabella waited while he collected his mail. He turned, saw her standing close by, and tipped his hat.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  “Of course,” Isabella said. His name was Matthew, she knew—Sophia’s beau.

  “Well, hello, Mrs. Johnston,” Jake Underwood said with an easy smile. “You must be here to collect your mail.”

  “Yes, thank you. Mrs. Thornton told me you had a letter for me.” She waited while he turned to the rack behind him and riffled through the sorted letters until he pulled out a plain white envelope with spidery script on it. Maggie Crain. Isabella had given her neighbor the general delivery address before she boarded the train in Maine, but she hadn’t really expected to hear from Maggie. For a moment it seemed she could smell the salt air of the sea and hear the waves crashing on the rocks.

  “Anything else I can get you?” Jake asked.

  “No, thank you.” Isabella hurried outside and back to the boardinghouse. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the table with her letter.

  Dear Isabella,

  I trust you arrived safely at your destination. I tried to find Angel Vale, Wyoming on a map in the school library after the children’s recitations Friday, but it was nowhere to be found. I feel as though you have dropped off the face of the earth. Of course, Wyoming Territory has a great many blank spots in it, so I suppose Angel Vale is a small town that popped up in one of them.

  I wrote to tell you that Carroll Bedford and his new wife have moved into your old house. I don’t know if you remember him—he was the one who lost his boat in the hurricane last September, but now he has another, very small but a good, stout fishing vessel.

  Now, dear, if things haven’t gone as planned, you must know you can come back here. Everyone misses you and asks how you are, so I had to write and try to get some word. Granny Hinckley says if that man didn’t step up for you, no questions asked, just come back, and she will have a place for you in her cottage and you can do for her and sell your stitching. She says there are ladies in Stonington who need sewing done and they complain there is no one skilled enough to suit them. I know you are good at handiwork.

  Now, for the news of the village. Ted Hatch had the biggest catch last week, and he earned enough to pay off his rent, which was in arrears and had Mary May worried to death. Lindy Bell has a new baby, and Joe is as proud of number six as he was the first time around. It’s a little boy, no bigger than a button, but he’s lusty and strong. Granny H. is going to Bangor next month and stay with her son over the New Year, but she says she will be back by the end of January, no mistake, and she will be glad to come back if you return. I will miss her while she is gone. I am afraid every year her son won’t let her come back to Merville, but so far every year for the last 20 she has gone and come back, glad to be in her own cottage kitchen again! I think her daughter-in-law is rather bossy and particular who stokes her cookstove. We suffered a hurricane last week, but it struck on Sunday, so all boats were safe in harbor.

  Well, I have rather rambled and now I have no more room and have to write across the lines. Blessings, my dear. I hope you are well and happy in your new marriage, but whatever the circumstances, do not forget you have friends here. Yours, Maggie Crain.

  A tear splashed down on the closely written lines of script, and Isabella sniffed. She laid down the letter and took out her handkerchief. Dear Maggie. How she missed her friends in Merville. She even missed the pounding of the waves on the shore, though she had thought she never wanted to hear that sound again.

  She wiped her eyes and scanned the letter again, smiling this time. She was glad Lindy’s baby was healthy, and also that Ted and Mary May were solvent. Of course she would not go back, but it was good of Maggie and Granny to hold out the offer. If she were in a position of need … but she wasn’t. Isabella decided to write at once and tell Maggie that she was fine and hope to be married soon to a very fine man.

  She sighed and leaned back in her chair, thinking of Edwin, out riding the range on his pinto cow pony. Of all the rough men she had seen here in the mining town, she thought she had the pick of the lot, a very fine man indeed. She sent up a quick prayer of thanks for her prospective husband and went to her room for pen, ink, and paper.

  Chapter Four

  About ten days later, Edwin saddled his horse and prepared to head out with the foreman and three of the others to move about a hundred head of yearlings to a pasture that still had some good grass. Jim Barrett was riding out with them.

  Over the past week and a half, Jim had ridden every day, sometimes going out with the men to tend to their tasks. He had exchanged his city clothes for some of his uncle’s old work clothes and a felt hat from the mercantile, so he at least looked more the part.

  Talk in the bunkhouse returned time and again to the question of whether Jim was here to stay, and whether he would take over Tom’s job. In fact, Roddy Hayes was of the opinion that Tom wouldn’t give up his job as foreman after all. George and Bronc scoffed at this, saying they had heard Tom say he could hardly wait to get down to Texas and enjoy a mild winter for once. Bronc said Jim would take his job, though George declared the young man didn’t have enough experience to boss the outfit. Hab Shriver declared that Jim didn’t have the sense to boss a mewling kitten, let alone a whole ranch.

  Edwin kept his own counsel and let them talk. Jim wasn’t stupid. He had learned to sit easy in the saddle and take care of his horse and his gear. But he couldn’t rope worth beans, and he was a long way from being the boss.

  “So, Ed, we going to be back in time for supper?” Jim asked him as he tightened the girth on his roan gelding’s saddle.

  “Should be,” Edwin said. “It’s about five miles. Take us two or three hours to get the stock up there, and half an hour or so to get home.”

  Jim grinned at him over his horse’s back. “Good, because Lila had me bring in some dried apples for her last night. Said she’s making apple pies today.”

  “Wouldn’t want to miss that,” Edwin said. Unless he guessed wrong, a couple of those pies would find their way to the bunkhouse.

  As they were about to mount, Mr. Leman came out of the ranch house, clapping his wide-brimmed hat onto h
is head.

  “Gray, hold back a minute.”

  Edwin glanced at Tom, the foreman, who said, “Catch up to us when you can.”

  The other men rode out, and Edwin stood holding his horse’s reins and waiting as Mr. Leman walked toward him.

  “I talked things over last night with Tom. He wants to pull out before snow sets in. That’ll give him time to travel down to Texas, where his folks are, before the cold gets bad. Have you set a date with that gal of yours?”

  Edwin’s heart pounded. “No, sir. We were waiting … Isabella … well, I didn’t have any place to put her, sir. And—” He stopped. As he’d surmised, apparently the nephew wasn’t a concern, but he couldn’t see any reason to bring that up.

  Mr. Leman nodded. “Well, I reckon you can stop worrying about where she’ll live. Tom will clear out next week. You can move into the cabin anytime after he’s gone.”

  Edwin couldn’t hold back a grin. “Thank you, sir. I’ll tell her next time I see her.”

  He wasn’t able to get back into town until Friday evening, but he sent a message ahead by one of the cowboys who had a half day off on Thursday. And on Friday, Edwin allowed plenty of time getting ready. He actually took a bath all over, which gained him some ribbing from the other fellows, and shaved close. Tonight would be a memorable night.

  He was about to leave the bunkhouse to saddle his horse when Bronc and one of the other ranch hands entered.

  “How’s things, fellas?” Edwin asked.

  “Turrible, just turrible,” George Cramer said.

  Bronc grimaced. “We saw bear sign on the north range. It’s a big one.”

  “That isn’t good,” Edwin said.

  “Claw marks eight feet up the trunk of a tree.” George shook his head. “Tracks and droppings, too.”

  “Any sign of a kill?” Edwin asked.

  “Not that we saw.” Bronc flung his hat across the room so that it landed neatly on his bunk. “But there’s not many fish in the stream, and it’s late for berries in this altitude.”

  “I’m thinking we should go find him,” George said. “Track him down.”

  Edwin considered that. “He’ll go to sleep soon for the winter.”

  “Not yet.” Bronc sat down and pulled a boot off. “He could do a lot of damage between now and snowfly.”

  “Guess you’re right.” Edwin recalled his date and slapped his hat on. “Well, take care, boys. I’ll see you later.”

  “Going to see Miss Isabelle?”

  “Isabella,” Edwin said, “and yes.”

  “Have fun,” George called after him as he went out the door.

  “Behave yourself,” Bronc added.

  Edwin hurried to the barn. He hoped stopping to talk to the boys hadn’t made him late. He surely didn’t want Isabella to be waiting and fretting for him this time.

  ###

  Isabella’s heart fluttered as she prepared for her evening with Edwin. Only a handful of women from the “angels” group was left now, and she wondered if she would be the last one wed. They had all heard how Jake Underwood and his friend, Matt Thomas, had recruited the group of prospective grooms by telling them they could have a Christmas angel—a wife by Christmas time. Christmas was still nearly two months away, but Isabella couldn’t help wondering if she would really be wed by then. Unless Mr. Leman chose Edwin as his new foreman, there seemed little chance of that happening.

  She spent half an hour meticulously ironing her best dress. This was done in the kitchen, since she had to repeatedly heat the flatiron on the woodstove. As the appointed time approached, she arranged her hair carefully. Memories of their last outing cautioned her not to get too excited. It was possible Edwin would be late again—or even miss their date entirely. But she had to believe he would be on time. He had promised to make every effort, so that she wouldn’t worry. Yet.

  When she was ready, she sat down in the common room with her coat beside her. The evenings were cold now, maybe colder than in Maine. That came from being up in the mountains, she supposed.

  Another of the brides spoke to her before leaving with her intended. Isabella sighed and settled back in her chair. She schooled herself not to be annoyed if Edwin was tardy.

  A knock at the door startled her, and she scrambled up, her heart racing. Was it really him? If so, he wasn’t late at all.

  She raced to the door and paused to draw in a deep breath before she opened it.

  “Edwin! Good evening.”

  “Hi.” He smiled so broadly, Isabella wondered if she looked especially nice tonight.

  She realized she had left her coat in the other room. “I’m ready, but I need to get my wrap.”

  He nodded, and she hurried to get it. Edwin held it for her and waited while she buttoned it, then opened the door.

  “The Eatery?” he asked.

  “That will be lovely.” What else could she say, when their choices were so limited? Even so, she hoped the cook would offer something this time besides rice and noodles. She had barely been able to find a few bits of meat in her portion the last time. She took Edwin’s arm and smiled up at him.

  “I got some news today,” he said as they set off down the boardwalk.

  “Oh?” She adjusted her step to his limping gait.

  “The foreman’s leaving next week.”

  Isabella’s heart pounded as she waited for his next words.

  “Mr. Leman says we can—well, I can have the foreman’s house right away. Next weekend, if I want.” He paused and looked down into her eyes. “Isabella, I … would you marry me? Next Sunday? The preacher will be here.”

  Her relief was so strong, she could feel it rushing through her veins. “Yes.” A little laugh burbled up inside her and escaped her lips. “That will be lovely, Edwin.”

  “I think so too.” As if suddenly remembering that they were standing on the sidewalk in the middle of town, he raised his head and looked around. “I … I suppose this is where I should be on one knee.”

  “No,” Isabella said, thinking of his injured leg, “but it is where the proposer usually kisses the proposee.”

  His brown eyes flared, and after a moment he chuckled. “That also sounds lovely. Perhaps I should have told you before we came out in the middle of the street.” He looked around and steered her toward the gap between two buildings. “It’s not exactly a private spot, but …”

  Suddenly they were in the alley, close together, and Isabella was staring up at him, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Edwin leaned toward her hesitantly. She raised her lips to his and closed her eyes.

  My husband—nine days from now, she thought. And she would have a proper wedding, with a minister officiating. That sounded good in her mind, and his kiss sealed her future. She could love this man, truly and fiercely. He pulled her closer, and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

  A moment later he raised his head but held her close against his chest. “I believe,” he said softly, “I believe I love you, Isabella.”

  She squeezed him hard and pulled away. She took his arm again, and they regained the boardwalk and resumed their stroll toward the Eatery.

  The cook seemed to have taken extra pains with the food tonight. Or perhaps they had a new cook. The waitress strolled over grinning and told them that they were offering beef stew or fried chicken this evening. Even the smell of the place had risen a notch. With anticipation, Isabella asked for a bowl of stew.

  “Have they got a new cook?” she couldn’t help asking the waitress.

  “One of the bride ladies hired on in the kitchen,” was the reply.

  “I’ll have to find out more about that,” Isabella told Edwin after the waitress left them. “I wonder which one it is.”

  “Don’t you see them every day?” Edwin asked.

  “Some, but most of those who are left are very busy with their wedding preparations.”

  Their dishes came promptly, with biscuits on a plate between them. Everything tasted delicious.


  Isabella and Edwin sat across from each other at a small table and talked quietly, a new intimacy surrounding them. He offered to give her money for anything she needed before the wedding, but Isabella told him she thought she could manage for nine more days.

  “I can probably get into the cabin again and make a list of what there is for furniture if that would help you,” Edwin said. “Or I could ask Tom.”

  “That would be helpful,” Isabella admitted. She knew they would start out without much for household goods—and most of what they did have would belong to Mr. and Mrs. Leman. But it was a start, and she was thankful they would have the little cabin over their heads and that they would be together.

  The mood was broken only when a cowpuncher stopped beside Edwin and slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Ed. You hear about the grizzly?” In contrast to Edwin’s neat appearance, this man appeared to have ridden in directly from the dusty trail. His dark hair was short and curly, and work clothes smelled of horse and mountain air.

  Edwin nodded at him. “Evening, Joe. Yeah, our outfit saw his sign on the north range. Big fella?”

  Joe nodded. “Prob’ly the same critter. Killed a calf on our place.”

  Isabella caught her breath, and Edwin shot her an apologetic glance.

  “That’s bad. Joe, this is Mrs. Johnston, soon to be Mrs. Gray.”

  Joe’s face split in a grin. “You don’t say! Pleased to meetcha, Miz Johnston. Did you come on the angel train?”

  Isabella felt her cheeks warm. “Yes, I did.”

  Joe nodded, seemingly pleased that he had guessed right. “Welcome to Angel Vale, ma’am. When you tyin’ the knot?”

  “Likely next week, when the preacher comes back,” Edwin said.

  “Do tell. Now, that’s right fine.” Joe ambled off to join his friends, his face wreathed in smiles.

  “The news will be all over the territory now,” Edwin said, eyeing Isabella cautiously.

  “I don’t mind. Do you?”

  “Not a bit.” He reached across the table and gave her hand a quick squeeze.