Mail Order Merchant_Brides of Beckham

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Mail Order Merchant

  Cowboys and Angels Book 5

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Unlimited Dreams

  Copyright © 2017 by Kirsten Osbourne

  Unlimited Dreams Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Erin Dameron Hill/ EDH Graphics

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Visit my website at www.kirstenandmorganna.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  What’s Next for Cowboys and Angels

  Also by Kirsten Osbourne

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Victoria Miller—known as Toria to her friends—needed to escape. There was something wrong, and she needed out of Beckham, Massachusetts. She’d spent her life working for the local mercantile, but all of a sudden, the owner, Sebastian Penuckle, was making advances. His wife had died a short time before, and he was on the prowl for someone willing to take on the raising of his six children. Toria was not going to be that someone.

  On her walk home from work, Sebastian followed her for the third time that week. “Mr. Penuckle, I’m just not interested in marrying you. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to raise someone else’s children.” While that wasn’t the real reason, telling him he made her skin crawl wasn’t polite.

  “You’re a spinster. Do you really think you’re going to get a better offer at your age?”

  Toria lifted her chin high. It was true she’d never married, but it wasn’t because she’d never had an opportunity. She had been the most sought-after girl in town not all that long ago. She was only thirty-two. She had plenty of child-bearing years left, and she could marry if she decided she wanted to. There just weren’t any unmarried men her age who appealed to her. Why was that a crime?

  “Whether I get a better offer or not, I’m not going to marry you. I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is.” While that wasn’t completely true, he never needed to know differently. She wasn’t unlike other women. She wanted a husband and children just like everyone else. He just wasn’t on her list of men who would be acceptable as husbands.

  He made a face. “You always thought you were better than everyone else. I remember how you treated my Abigail. Like you were so much better than she was. She told me to fire you a dozen times. I should have done it then.”

  “I’m good at my job, Mr. Penuckle. There’s no reason for you to fire me.” And there was nothing she could do if he did. Most businessmen in town preferred to employ men anyway, thinking that they needed to be able to feed their families. Women weren’t seen as breadwinners.

  “I’ll let you stay on, if you’ll think about accepting my suit.” As he said the words, he slowly backed her into an alley where no one could see him. He grabbed her wrists tightly in his hands and pulled her toward him.

  “Let go of me!” Toria struggled in his embrace, trying to get away from him. “Help me!” she screamed.

  A man hurried into the alley, grabbing Sebastian by the shoulder and knocking him into the wall. “Are you all right, ma’am?” Her savior was a giant of a man, with blond hair and blue eyes.

  “I’m fine.” She watched as Sebastian stumbled away. “I have a feeling I’m no longer employed by that scoundrel, though.”

  “I’m Bernard Tandy. Can I help you?”

  “Oh, you work for Elizabeth! I’m her aunt, Toria. I think it’s time for me to pay her a visit.”

  Bernard gallantly offered his arm. “Any aunt of Elizabeth’s will always be able to avail herself of my services. I’ll escort you to her home.”

  Toria took his arm gratefully, wondering why she trusted this man so much and Sebastian so little. “Thank you. Since I’m now an unemployed spinster, I’ll need to talk to Elizabeth about finding me a husband out west. I’m not going to stick around this town any longer than I need to. That was too close for comfort for me.”

  He nodded. “I think you’re making a wise choice. In fact, if I recall correctly, Elizabeth might have just the man for you.”

  “Do you think? Are there often gentlemen who are a little bit more seasoned looking for wives?”

  Bernard laughed at her careful wording. “There are, and it’s infrequent that we have brides just right for them. I’m sure we can have you on a train out of here very soon. I’ve just returned from investigating several men out west. There was a man in Colorado who I believe would be a good match for you, but I can’t say for certain. Elizabeth is the one who expertly matches people. I just make sure none of our brides get hurt.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly helped me today!” Toria’s heartbeat was slowly returning to its normal tempo. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t stumbled upon us when you did.” She shuddered, unable to stop the visions of Sebastian forcing a kiss upon her out of her mind.

  “I promise you will be all right. I’ll even go so far as to offer you a place to stay until you’re ready to leave. Elizabeth would be offended if I didn’t make sure her aunt was taken care of.”

  They’d reached the big house on Rock Creek Road where her niece lived and ran a business as a matchmaker. Bernard opened the door and led her right back to the last door on the left. “Elizabeth? I found your aunt, and she’d like to speak with you.”

  Elizabeth got to her feet, hurrying over to hug Toria. “He found you? What does that even mean?”

  “I’ll allow you ladies to talk while I fetch some tea and cookies. I have a feeling sugar will be good after what your aunt just experienced.” Bernard closed the door behind him, leaving them alone to speak.

  Elizabeth led Toria to the sofa and sat beside her, holding her aunt’s hand in hers. “Tell me what happened, Aunt Toria!”

  Toria sighed. She would have spared Elizabeth the entire story, but it appeared Bernard wasn’t going to let that happen. “My employer’s wife died a few months ago, and he’s been trying to convince me to marry him ever since. His wife was not a happy woman, and it’s my belief that she took her own life, though Mr. Penuckle denies it. Anyway, I have no desire to marry him, speak with him outside work, or even look at him, if truth were told.”

  “I can understand that. The heart wants what it wants and nothing else.” Elizabeth’s eyes lingered on the door Bernard had closed just moments before. Toria understood immediately.

  “Well, Mr. Penuckle has taken to following me home from work and demanding I marry him. Today he forced me into an alley and grabbed me. I screamed, and your Bernard came to my rescue.”

  “He’s not my Bernard.” The look in Elizabeth’s eyes told her aunt that Elizabeth wished he was hers, though. It was startling to realize that even beautiful young ladies had trouble with love at times. Toria had simply never found a man who was worth giving up her freedom for. Elizabeth had found the man she wanted, but she didn’t feel she could act on it.
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br />   “I think he could be if you wanted.” Toria shook her head. “I’m sorry for saying that, Elizabeth. It’s not my place to meddle in your life. I’m here because I’m hoping that you can find me a husband out west. I’m afraid that Sebastian is going to do something stupid if you don’t, and I’m more than a little certain that I lost my job today when Bernard defended me.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “You’re probably right. I think I have a man for you, and oddly enough, he sent enough money for your travel expenses with his letter. Most don’t do that, but he told me he trusts me completely and would love a bride to come to him. He’s not requiring a response, which isn’t the normal way I do things, but if you’d like to read his letter, you could be on tomorrow’s train headed toward Colorado.”

  “Colorado?” Toria thought for a moment about what she’d heard about the new state. “I think I’d enjoy living there. The photographs I’ve seen are beautiful.”

  “It’s a beautiful place, from what I’ve heard. Of course, I’ve rarely left Beckham, and have never left Massachusetts, so what can I say about it?” Elizabeth walked over to her desk and found the letter. “Please read over it and let me know if you’re interested in marrying Mr. Jackson.”

  Toria accepted the letter, a little afraid of what she’d find. Of course, almost anything was better than staying there and being continually bothered by Mr. Penuckle.

  Dear Potential Bride,

  I hope you’ll read this letter carefully and determine that I’m the man you wish to spend the rest of your life with. My name is Mortimer Jackson, and I’m a widower. I live in the town of Creede, Colorado. I lost my wife Grace some time ago, and I find my life just isn’t complete without a woman at my side.

  I own and run a mercantile, along with my son John, who is nineteen. I’m forty-three years old. I like to take long walks, and I adore fresh-baked bread. If you enjoy cooking and would be willing to help out in the store on occasion, you are definitely the bride for me. I would rather have a woman who is a little older than most brides. I’d say a minimum age of thirty would please me. I don’t mind if you have children with you, because I’ve always adored children, though my wife and I only had one. If you are interested, please send me a telegraph and come to me. I don’t stand on ceremony, and I’d love it if you just arrived in town.

  Yours,

  Mortimer

  Toria blinked twice and read the letter twice more. “He sounds like a good man. Has Bernard investigated him yet?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “He just returned from a trip looking into him and a couple of other men. He seems like a good, upstanding citizen. People say that he loved his wife to distraction.”

  Toria looked at the letter and then at her niece. “Could I leave on tomorrow’s train?”

  Elizabeth grinned. “You certainly could. I’ll have Bernard escort both of us to your boarding house and we’ll pack up your things. I can ship anything that you can’t take on the train with you.”

  “I’d like that a lot. When can we go?”

  “Let’s have the cookies and tea Bernard is fetching for us, and then we’ll go over to your place to pack. While we’re packing, I’ll have Bernard send a telegram to Colorado and buy a train ticket. He said there’s a station that goes right into the town, so you won’t even have to worry about taking part of the trip by stagecoach.”

  Toria reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “Thank you so much for helping me. I should be helping you, not the other way around.”

  “You have always been my favorite aunt. I’m so pleased I can be instrumental in you finding your place in this world.”

  Mortimer looked up as Beatrice and Arthur Jameson walked into his store early Monday morning. “I’ve brought your daily baked goods,” Beatrice announced with a smile. She was holding their baby, while Arthur carried the food.

  “Looks like you brought me a baby, not baked goods,” Mortimer said with a laugh. He genuinely liked Beatrice, thrilled that she’d come along and married his friend.

  “I brought you cookies, bread, and pies,” Arthur said with a smile. “And a telegram from Massachusetts.”

  Mortimer’s eyes widened. “Already? I’d thought it would take years for the matchmaker to find someone who would be happy with an old goat like me.”

  Arthur carefully arranged the baked goods before digging the telegram out of his pocket and handing it to his friend. “It might be time for you to clean your house really well to get ready for a bride,” he said with a wink.

  Mortimer smiled. “Beatrice, would you know of anyone who would be willing to clean my home and make it wife-ready for a good wage? I’d pay a whole dollar to have it spick and span when my new bride arrives.”

  Beatrice thought for a moment. “Hmm…I’m sure I could find someone. When do you need her by?”

  Mortimer frowned. “I guess I should quit putting my cart before the horse! I’ll read the telegram so I can answer that.” His laugh filled the mercantile. He had no problem laughing at himself, and was pleased to have a reason to laugh at all. He unfolded the paper and read the short message. “SENDING YOU BRIDE STOP NAME IS VICTORIA STOP ARRIVING NOVEMBER 11th. STOP.”

  “She’ll be here next week!” Mortimer wanted to dance around the room. It had been so long since he’d had the help of a sweet wife. He couldn’t wait until she arrived. “Her name is Victoria. I wonder if she’ll mind if I call her Vicki.”

  Beatrice and Arthur exchanged glances. “I’ll have someone here to clean on Monday. Will that work?” Beatrice asked. The eleventh was Wednesday, and it might take more than a day.

  Mortimer’s nodded eagerly. “I’d like all my laundry to be done and the house to be spotless.”

  Beatrice frowned. “Would you be willing to pay for a couple of days? Or do you think it can all be done in one?” She thought her friend, Hannah, who had been one of the abducted women, would be pleased to get a little extra money. Her stethoscope had been stolen during the kidnapping.

  He shrugged. “Two days is fine. They can work a whole week if they need to! I’m not a rich man, but I’ll gladly pay that much to make my new wife happy as soon as she arrives.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I’m really glad she’s coming so soon, Mortimer. I do hope you’ll be happy together.”

  “The way I see it, happiness is something that you work toward. You can choose to love someone, or you can choose to be annoyed by them. I will choose to see the good in what she does, and we’ll be happy together.”

  “I hope it’s that simple for you.” Arthur looked over at Beatrice. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I am. We need to get little Sally home. It’s supposed to snow today, and I don’t want her out in the elements after her earache last week.” She smiled at Mortimer. “I will have someone here by the end of the week to start on your house. If you want any particular baked goods, I’ll make them happen for you.”

  “Thanks. Both of you.” Mortimer watched them go, closing his eyes and daydreaming about his bride. In his mind, she looked just like Grace. A tiny little blonde with green eyes and a smile that lit up the room. What else could she look like? Surely God was going to make up for taking his bride by giving her back to him.

  John hurried into the store. “Sorry I’m late, Dad. I overslept.”

  Mortimer shook his head. “If you spent less time in the saloon and more time at home, you wouldn’t oversleep.”

  John shrugged. “You said I couldn’t carry on that way as long as I lived under your roof. I don’t live under your roof anymore.”

  “True. Listen, son, I have a mail order bride coming next week. I’m hoping she’ll be willing to help out in the store some.”

  “You’re replacing Mom?”

  Mortimer sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t say I’m replacing your mother. I would say it’s moving on. Grace never would have wanted me to be alone.”

  John shook his head, looking angry. “I’ll get to work, then.”

  Watching him l
eave, Mortimer started to call after him, but he realized there was no point. John wouldn’t accept anyone who was taking the place of his mother.

  Toria sat nervously in her seat, wishing she was already in Colorado. Elizabeth had gone with her to the train station and had given her a speech about making sure she didn’t stay with a man who was unkind, surprising Toria. She had no idea Elizabeth even realized there were bad people in the world. Her disposition was always so sweet and sunny, it was very hard to believe she had ever seen anything bad happen.

  “I wish I was there already!” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Don’t wish away the hours it will take to get there. Your future husband needs this time to prepare the way for you.” She jumped when she heard a voice from right beside her. She hadn’t realized anyone was there.

  Toria looked at the woman beside her with a frown. “Where did you come from? And what do you know of my future husband?”

  The woman just shrugged. She was right around Toria’s age. “I know things that others don’t sometimes. Don’t be nervous about marrying Mortimer. He’ll be a good husband to you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m a friend. I’m here to help you.” The woman smiled sweetly. “I know you’re nervous about your decision to go west, but it’s the best thing you could have possibly done. Sebastian wouldn’t have left you alone.”

  “Excuse me?” How did the woman know who Sebastian was? “You’re starting to frighten me.”

  “That’s not my intention, so I’ll go. I’ll be here when you need me.”

  As Toria watched, the woman got up and walked toward the back of the train, disappearing behind the conductor. A shiver ran up her spine. She didn’t feel like the woman was evil—and after knowing Sebastian for so long, she knew evil. But there was something odd about her.