A Tailor-Made Husband

by Winnie Griggs

  Sure enough, he was holding a train ticket. She looked up and met his gaze. “You were coming after us?”

  “I was. It was my very manly plan to find you and beg your forgiveness for being such a complete and utter fool. And to ask you to do me the very great honor of marrying me.”

  “But I just told you—”

  “I’m not asking for an in-name-only marriage. I want a real, for better, for worse, happily-ever-after, love match of a marriage. And I want it with you.”

  “But your job—”

  “Is just a job.” He squeezed her hands. “I love you, Hazel Andrews, every maddening, stubborn, brave, wonderful ounce of you. Tell me I’m not too late, that you haven’t changed your mind. Tell me I can still be the man that you love.”

  Hazel pulled her hands away from him and then threw herself in his arms. “Ward Gleason, you will always be the man that I love. Yes, absolutely I will marry you.”

  They exchanged a very long, very satisfying kiss, right there under the oak. And when they were done, Ward stood and reached down to help her up. “Come on, let’s go tell Half-pint that we’re going to be a real family, at last.”

  Epilogue

  Hazel stood at the back of the church, awaiting the signal to start her march down the aisle. She wasn’t the least bit nervous though, even if she was breaking with tradition.

  Rather than looking around for a stand-in father to walk her down the aisle, she had asked Aunt Opal to perform that ritual for her, and her aunt, who also enjoyed breaking from tradition occasionally, had pronounced herself delighted.

  Meg was with them, proudly holding on to the handle of a basket filled with rose petals. She was so proud to be a part of the ceremony and had been practicing walking and tossing petals for days. The local meadows and roadsides had been stripped of their glory as a result.

  Meg had already started calling Ward Poppa rather than Sheriff Gleason and she was now Mommy rather than Miss Hazel. And she couldn’t think of a title she liked better. Except perhaps Mrs. Ward Gleason.

  “I do believe you are the most beautiful bride I have ever had the honor of dressing,” her aunt said. “The color and style suit you to perfection.”

  Aunt Opal had insisted on making the wedding gown, but she’d made it to Hazel’s specifications. The smoky blue color was a perfect match for Ward’s eyes and the slim tailoring suited her figure nicely, even if she did say so herself.

  Aunt Opal, on the other hand, wore a severely cut, unadorned dress in a fawn color. She’d stated that it would be wrong of her to try to upstage the bride on her wedding day.

  Meg looked sweet in a white organdy concoction with a large pink satin ribbon at the waist and matching ribbons on her pigtails.

  Just then the organ sounded and Hazel smiled down at Meg. “Okay, sweetheart, it’s time for you to make your grand entrance.”

  Aunt Opal opened the door and Meg stepped forward with the supreme confidence of an almost-five-year-old who knows she is loved.

  Hazel peeked through the open door, looking past Meg to the handsome gentleman waiting at the altar. He was watching Meg’s progress with a great deal of love and pride shining from his eyes. And then, as if he felt her gaze, he looked up and met her gaze.

  Basking in the smiling love from the man she happily planned to spend the rest of her life with, Hazel took her aunt’s arm and confidently took the first step toward the real window the Good Lord had opened for her.

  * * *

  Ward’s heart swelled with joy. His girls, both of them, walking toward him with big, beautiful smiles on their lips and love shining from their eyes. Was ever a man so blessed as him?

  When Meg reached the front of the church, she set her basket down on the front pew, then stepped up and took her place beside him. He smiled down at her with a wink, then turned his attention to his beautiful bride.

  He still couldn’t believe how close he’d come to turning his back on all of this. How could he ever have believed that duty came before love?

  It had taken him so long to understand what true love was—that it was more than infatuation or desire or distraction. True love was a precious gift, a recognizing of that person who makes you feel whole and fulfilled and equipped to face whatever life throws at you. True love accepts you just as you are, without pretense. And true love is finding that one person tailor-made to complete you and make you strive to be more than you could ever hope to be on your own.

  At least, that’s the kind of love he’d found with Hazel.

  And God willing, he’d never let it, or her, slip through his fingers again.

  He stepped forward and accepted her hand from her aunt and together they each took one of Meg’s hands and turned to face Reverend Harper to speak the vows that would join them, now and forever, as a family.

  * * * * *

  If you loved this story,

  pick up the other books in the

  TEXAS GROOMS series:

  HANDPICKED HUSBAND

  THE BRIDE NEXT DOOR

  A FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS

  LONE STAR HEIRESS

  HER HOLIDAY FAMILY

  SECOND CHANCE HERO

  THE HOLIDAY COURTSHIP

  TEXAS CINDERELLA

  Available now from Love Inspired Historical!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Hazel and Ward’s story. This one was a long time in the making. Both of these characters have appeared in many of the previous Texas Grooms books, but it wasn’t until Hazel popped up in Second Chance Hero as Verity’s best friend that she really came to life for me. And it was only then that I realized the sheriff was the object of her long-standing affection.

  Hazel and Ward’s story simmered in my mind as I wrote two additional books in the series, until I was finally ready to tell their story. And what a story it turned out to be. Ward came to life for me as a hero in so many unexpected ways—I fell in love with him right along with Hazel. And I hope you will too.

  For more information on this and other books set in Turnabout, please visit my website at www.winniegriggs.com or follow me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/WinnieGriggs.Author.

  And as always, I love to hear from readers. Feel free to contact me at winnie@winniegriggs.com with your thoughts on this or any other of my books.

  Wishing you a life abounding with love and grace,

  Winnie Griggs

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MAIL ORDER SWEETHEART by Christine Johnson.

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  Mail Order Sweetheart

  by Christine Johnson

  Chapter One

  Singapore, Michigan

  March 1871

  Sawyer Evans stared at what his friends had written. The piece of stationery gleamed white against the oak store counter, but the words leaped off the page.

  He shoved the paper across the counter. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “Neither was I,” Roland Decker said with a grin, “but it was the best thing that ever happened. I’ve never been happier.”

  His bride of nearly three months curled under Roland’s arm and gave him the sort of look that Sawyer dreamed of getting just once—especially from a particular redhead—but placing an advertisement for a wife was not the answer. This idea of theirs would only bring trouble.

  “If I remember right,” he pointed out, “the advertisement that brought Pearl and the other ladies west was supposed to give your brother a wife, not you.”

  Roland shrugged. “He did get a wife, and he’s just as happy as I am.”

  Pearl, Roland’s wife, nodded emphatically. “Now that you’re manager at the sawmill, you can settle down.”

  “Not yet.” Sawyer dreamed of opening his own business, not running someone else’s. Marriage would only drain his savings. Even a frugal wife brought added expenses, and the only woman who’d interested him was definitely not frugal.

  “Garrett would tell you it’s an advantage,” Roland said.

  Sawyer lifted an eyebrow. “Your brother stayed a widower for two years while he managed the mill. He has children. I don’t. Thus, no need for a wife.”

  Pearl grinned. “Not even a certain redhead?”

  Fiona O’Keefe. From the moment Sawyer met her last August, the beautiful woman with the fiery hair and temper had piqued his curiosity. She, on the other hand, barely noticed his existence except when she needed an accompanist for her concerts. She had graced the stages and cafés in New York City with her clear soprano voice, yet came to the lumber town of Singapore in answer to the advertisement that gave Garrett a wife. It made no sense. She could have married easily in New York. Why travel hundreds of miles to a lumber town in search of a husband? He’d watched and listened, but in seven months he still hadn’t discovered why she’d come here. Or why she was so desperate to marry.

  Sawyer shook his head. “Fiona has set her cap on that ne’er-do-well Blakeney.”

  The timber speculator had come to town in January, purportedly looking for a location for a new sawmill, but Sawyer had seen enough manipulators before to recognize Blakeney as one of that breed. Unfortunately, Fiona only noticed the man’s fancy clothes and lofty intentions. From nearly the moment Blakeney arrived on Singapore’s docks, she’d hung on his arm. Sawyer had tried to warn her and got a tongue-lashing for his trouble.

  “Then you need to show her what she’s missing.” Pearl jotted something on the paper and pushed it back toward him. “Fight fire with fire, I say. These tweaks should capture her attention.”

  Sawyer read the opening line and shook his head. “Up and coming industrial magnate?” Little did Pearl know how close to the truth she’d come. Sawyer wanted nothing to do with that old life, where he was known as Paul Evanston, heir to the Belmont & Evanston Railway. In Singapore he earned an honest wage by the sweat of his brow. It felt good. He slept well at night, knowing he’d done his best to help others, not bleed them dry like Father did. He wanted no part of his father’s manipulation and unethical dealings. “All I do is work the saws in the mill.”

  “You’re now mill manager,” Roland said, “which is one step closer to becoming a captain of industry.”

  “A lot of steps away.”

  “Who knows where this could lead?” Pearl said. “Mr. Stockton might think so highly of your skills that he asks you to oversee operations along this entire side of the state.”

  “Far-fetched at best.” Stockton seldom visited, least of all promoted. “If anyone catches his attention, it’d be you, Roland.”

  His friend grinned. “You never know. Mr. Stockton has an eye for men with potential.”

  Sawyer squirmed. He didn’t want to gain the lumber baron’s attention. Stockton could well know Father and bring the man back into Sawyer’s life. “I intend to earn any promotion through hard work.”

  “No one said you wouldn’t.” Pearl looked to her husband for confirmation. “I believe in you. We both believe in you.”

  “Fiona doesn’t.” He tore up the sheet of paper. “This will only bring trouble. Or don’t you remember that the advertisement for your brother attracted too many women? This would do the same.”

  “Not if it only goes in the local newspaper.” Pearl tapped a finger on the counter with each statement, as if she were instructing him the way she taught the schoolchildren. “The Singapore Sentinel circulates only in the immediate area. Few would see it. There aren’t many women of marriageable age here.”

  “That’s not the point. I don’t want to marry. Not now, anyway. And when I am ready, I don’t need any help finding a wife.” Sawyer had to put a stop to this ridiculous matchmaking effort.

  “You might change your mind if Fiona shows interest.” Pearl was already piecing the paper together. “Or would you be interested in Louise?”

  Sawyer snatched a handful of scraps from Pearl. “You know I have no interest in Mrs. Smythe.” The petite widow was quiet and bookish, not at all his type. He preferred Fiona’s high spirits.

  Pearl brushed aside the remaining scraps of paper and pulled out a clean sheet of paper. “You wouldn’t have to meet anyone since the advertisement instructs interested parties to write in care of the mercantile. Give it a try. What do you have to lose? You just might gain Fiona’s attention.” She began to write.

  “And make her forget Blakeney,” Roland added.

  “Enough!” Sawyer raised his hands. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s not the right time.”

  The mercantile’s doorbell jingled. Seconds later, Jimmy, the lad who helped out the Deckers, appeared at the counter.

  “He’s gone.” Jimmy managed between gulps of air.

  “Who’s gone?” Pearl asked.

  “Him.” Jimmy waved in the air. “Mr. Blakeney.”

  “Gone?” Sawyer stared at the boy. “You must be mistaken. He was going to take Fiona to the choir concert in Saugatuck. They probably left early.”

  “No, sir.” Jimmy shook his head. “I was over to Saugatuck delivering that cloth Mrs. Wardman ordered and I seen him ridin’ out of town like his horse got spooked. So I went and asked the livery boy where he was off to, and he said Mr. Blakeney paid up his bill at the hotel and was headed upriver to Allegan.”

  “Paid up his hotel bill?” Sawyer echoed. He looked at Roland and Pearl, who had equally astonished looks on their faces. “If he paid up, then that means just one thing.”

  “He’s gone,” Pearl and Roland said at the same time.

  “And he’s not coming back.”

  “Someone has to tell Fiona,” Pearl said, her gaze fixed on Sawyer.

  “Oh, no.” Sawyer backed away. “This sort of thing is better coming from a woman.”

  “It’s better coming from someone who can console her and perhaps step into the missing man’s place,” Pearl pointed out.

  More matchmaking. Nothing Sawyer had said made a bit of difference. He liked Fiona, but taking Blakeney’s place might suggest he was interested in more than friendship.

  “The time’s not right.”

  Pearl set a stack of papers on
the counter. “Roland and I have to work tonight. She needs to hear this from a friend. You could ease her disappointment by taking her to the concert.”

  Sawyer knew defeat when he saw it. He threw up his hands and headed for the boardinghouse.

  * * *

  In the privacy of her room, Fiona O’Keefe reread the stunning letter. She wanted to talk some sense into her next-youngest sister, Lillibeth, but there was no time to send a return letter. Singapore didn’t have a telegraph office, which left Fiona without any means to respond.

  She shoved the letter in the envelope and rubbed her aching temples. What was she going to do? Lillibeth had done the unthinkable, and somehow Fiona would have to pick up the pieces.

  “Not now,” she groaned.

  Two months of effort were about to come to fruition. Mr. Carson Blakeney, who’d come to Singapore to find a good location for his new sawmill, was ready to propose. She could sense it. He just needed that last little push. Her niece couldn’t show up now, not until she broached the subject with Carson.

  Time had run out. Little Mary Clare could arrive any day now. Lillibeth hadn’t been clear about that part, so Fiona had to be ready. Tonight she would secure a marriage proposal from Mr. Blakeney. If not...

  Well, there were no other options. She tucked the missive into the bureau drawer and slammed it shut. The sound reverberated through the boardinghouse. That was that. The time for gentle persuasion was over. Tonight she would employ direct pressure and pray the man didn’t dart away like a frightened rabbit.

  What was Lillibeth thinking? A child of seven should not travel across the country without the accompaniment of a known and trusted adult. The thought of that poor motherless child alone and frightened tugged on her heartstrings. When Mary Clare’s mother and Fiona’s older sister Maeve died, Fiona promised to care for Maeve’s only child. She was doing her best to marry respectably so she could do just that. It meant leaving Mary Clare in Lillibeth’s care temporarily, but Fiona sent every dollar she could back to New York. Granted, that hadn’t been much lately, but Lillibeth shouldn’t have run short unless she was spending that money elsewhere.