Romance: The Campus Player: A College Romance
Page 50
“Your place, I guess. If that’s ok with you, of course.”
“Of course,” Coop replied, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly.
Coop slowed down when they hit their street.
“Hey,” he nudged Cynthia, who had closed her eyes, “there’s a truck at your place.”
Cynthia sat up and looked out the window. There was a moving van in front of her house. Clearly, Glen hadn’t wasted any time.
“And I didn’t think he had it in him,” she said, shaking her head, “I wonder what he had to pay them to work through the night like this.”
Cynthia couldn’t care less where her things ended up. All she needed was Coop. They continued down the street and pulled into Coop’s driveway. They both went inside and collapsed into bed, still dressed. Coop was asleep within minutes. Cynthia stayed awake a bit longer. She had no idea what the future held, and she was sure it wouldn’t be easy. But, deep down, something was telling her that it would all be worth it, that the best was yet to come.
Chapter 6: Two Years Later
Cynthia stood behind the tall wooden doors of the church. She had worried that this moment would be less exciting because it was her second wedding, but thankfully she couldn’t have been more wrong. She had never been happier or more excited in her life.
If it were up to Coop, they wouldn’t have waited two years to do this. But, despite an iron clad prenuptial agreement, Glen refused to make things easy.
She took a deep breath and took hold of her father’s arm.
“Mommy! How do I look?” Tara spun in a circle, showing off white beaded dress. Cynthia smiled instantly, as she did every time Tara called her Mom. Coop and Cynthia were awarded custody of her a few days after she was released from the hospital, but it still had taken her almost a year to call them Mom and Dad.
“Beautiful honey. And what about me?”
“You are the most amazing bride I’ve ever seen!” She smiled and took her place at the front of the procession.
The doors opened and Cynthia saw Coop, waiting at the altar. He looked amazing in his black tux, with his hair slicked back. He gave a little wave to his daughter and his bride.
“Are you ready?” She asked her daughter.
“Yes,” Tara replied, holding up a basket of flower petals, “are you?”
“You have no idea,” Cynthia laughed, thinking excitedly of the bright future in front of them, “you have no idea.”
Enjoy the story? Sign up for our steamy romance mailing list to receive news on releases and promotions!
Click Here!
Have any feedback we can pass on to our authors? Email us at midspublishing@gmail.com
Mail Order Bride: Moving West
Dolores Drake
Moving West
Copyright 2016 by Dolores Drake
First electronic publication: January 2017
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of a sexual nature are consensual.
Moving West
Chapter 1
Alexandra Price walked down the long, dark corridor with quick steps. She could hear the surge and fall of the notes of the evensong, somewhere in the recesses of the huge convent. The tapping of her heels against the stone floor was louder than necessary. She knew she was walking a bit too noisily but she did not care. She was annoyed, and so she allowed herself the small indiscretion against the rules of the place that had finally decided to throw her out on her back.
“Shhh, Alex!” admonished Sister Catherine who happened to cross her from the opposite side and whom Alexandra, buried in her thoughts had not seen coming. Chastised, she walked the remaining few steps to the office of the Mother Superior in quiet discretion and softly knocked on the door. She entered when she heard a muffled come in.
“Alexandra.” Mother Bernardine turned from the sideboard where she was arranging a tea tray. She was an eighty-three-year-old woman, ramrod straight, looking foreboding in her habit. But nobody knew better than Alexandra the love and generosity of her heart.
“Would you care to pour the tea?” she asked walking back to her desk and Alex marveled at the alacrity and poise with which she moved. This woman had been her rock, Alex thought with love and affection as the abbess lowered herself into her majestic looking straight back chair and bending forward steepled her hands on top of her table, her rosaries coiled around the fingers and palm of her right hand.
Everybody knew, when Alex was upset she made tea. Now as she quietly moved to the sideboard and started pouring from the kettle, Mother Bernardine said sternly,
“You shouldn’t have bothered with the polite knock. The noise you made striding down the corridor, I was half expecting you to kick my office door in and break it down.”
Alexandra winced. But she had never been afraid of speaking her mind. Perhaps that was what made her everybody’s pet, even Mother Superior’s.
“I was distressed.” She muttered. “After all, I am being thrown out of my own house.” She said placing a cup of tea in front of the Mother and taking a seat from across her.
“This is the house of god and nobody is ever thrown out from here.”
“Then take me to Carolina with you.” Alex countered.
“Alexandra, you know that is not possible. The orphanage here is fully operational now. It's working beautifully. There is no such institution in Jacksonville. That is why the convent is being moved there. To set up a new facility.”
“You know I will only be an asset to you. I can serve alongside you.”
“It is not your job to serve. It is ours.”
“Is it really so necessary to renounce this world first to serve it?”
“No. But it is necessary to do so if you want to stay along with the convent.”
“I will never take the habit.”
“And I will never ask you to. You are not cut out for it.”
“You can ask the church to renew my contract with them as a librarian and primary school teacher. You are going to need an experienced person for both these jobs in Jacksonville.”
“The church has decided to terminate your contract.”
“You have enough power to change their decision.”
“But I will not use it.”
“I will be alone, miserable, distraught without you. Don’t you feel anything for me?” Alex said querulously and Bernardine faced the biggest conflict of control in her entire life. But she kept a cool exterior.
“You know we all love you and we will always wish for your best. But every bird has to leave the nest one day. Your day has come. The severing of the tie will no doubt be painful but it will liberate you, show you your path in the world.”
“What will I do? Where will I go.” Alex cried out her hands spread out palms up on the table.
Mother Bernardine picked up an envelope from among the neatly arranged stacks on her table and handed it to Alex.
“I have cut out some clippings from the local newspapers, jobs I felt were suitable for you. You might want to take a look at them.”
“If you have so righteously washed your hands off me why do you care what I do when I leave? I don’t care for what is suitable and what is not. I am going to do something sensational. “
“Like what, for example?” Mother Bernardine asked looking up coolly into her rebellious eyes. It wasn’t the first time she was facing an angry Alex Price.
“I don’t know,” Alex said as she threw her hands up into the air, the envelope clutched in one, and stood in front of the Mother’s desk like a caged tigress.
“For all I care, I will build railways or travel to the arctic.” Then she turned her back on the old woman and walked out. This time, she did bang the door behind her so loudly two of the sisters who had been studying the scriptures in a nearby room rushed out to see what was going on.
As the door closed, Mother Bernardine allowed the tears to come. She let them flow freely for some time staring at the closed door. Then she smiled her wicked smile and chuckled.
Chapter 2
“I am selling the company.” Andreadora Sullivan announced casually, after dinner one evening. Jim Sullivan sipped at his port unconcerned.
He knew his grandmother was unpredictable and loved to shock. That was what made her the successful businesswoman she was. After the death of her husband she had brought up her four children alone and not only managed her husband’s business but multiplied it tenfold with her acute sense of entrepreneurship. Then after the death of her eldest son, she had once again shelved her sorrow over losing a child to give the five-year-old Jim, the necessary attention, and support he had needed. He had become her way of coping with the loss.
Now, even as the declaration shocked him Jim tried to sound unfazed
“Why?” he asked matter of factly.
“Because you won’t get married. What’s the point of having a business this size and no one to pass it on to?” Andreadora sipped at her scotch. Jim smiled. She always hated it when she was offered that ladylike glass of wine.
“You forget, I own a part of it too, along with Aunt Morgan, and Ara and Archie,” Jim said referring to his grandmother’s other children.
“Ten present each. It’s still less than my total share. Besides, I own all the rights to sell without consulting any one of you. Yet I am telling you up front what I plan on doing and why.”
“Because I refuse to get married and have children?” Jim asked resting his glass on a low table and looking at his grandmother quizzically.
“Exactly.”
“That’s ridiculous”
“My decision has been made.”
“Fine. You want to sell. Quote, your figure.” Jim said retrieving his glass.
“I know you are a rich man Jim Sullivan,” Andreadora said inclining her head to one side and smiling slyly at her grandson. She took a small sip of her scotch before continuing.
“After all, you were a highly paid railway engineer for five years before you joined the family business. And you have invested wisely. But, whatever price you are ready to pay, I will not sell it to you. I am selling to Joshua Masterton.”
“Joshua Masterton?” This time, Jim put down the glass with a resounding thud. Andreadora eyed him with annoyance before saying,
“That’s my great grandma’s finest crystal you are being so careless with. Came all the way from England on the Mayflower. Besides Mr. Masterton is ready to buy.”
“Of course he is. He is my biggest rival.” Jim said from between barred teeth.
“Precisely.” His grandmother smiled smugly as she sat back on the sofa.
“Fine, go ahead, sell. I am your grandson, and grandpa Jim’s. I have enough Sullivan blood in me to build another company. But I will not allow you to manipulate me into a marriage.”
“I already have. You are already married.” Jim’s glass was arrested in midair as he slowly turned to her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You were married by proxy. You signed the marriage agreement which was then sent to your bride for signing. It was submitted to the registrar’s office in New York on the twentieth of last month.
“And what was I…unconscious, hypnotized or drunk when all this happened?”
“You were careless. You signed the marriage agreement along with a sheaf of papers I gave you to sign two months back. It was on the day…” But Jim held up his palm as he looked into the hearth, the fire there reflected in his icy blue eyes.
“I remember…” he said dazed at the way his own grandmother had duped him.
“It was on that day I was to leave for Washington for the regional conference of Western Pacific Railways. You gave me a stack of papers to sign. But I was not careless. I was in a hurry. I was going to miss my train because I spent my morning resolving that silly fight between you and Scot Murphy.” He said referring to their family physician.
Andreadora looked down at her hands that she held clasped in her lap. When she didn’t say anything for a long time Jim looked up at her as if he was seeing her for the first time and said.
“Perhaps it was a part of your plan too.”
“She is arriving tomorrow. Your bride. Her name is Alexandra Price.”
“What do you mean arriving?” Jim growled.
“She is coming from New York. she grew up in a convent there.”
“And how did you select this lady?”
“I gave an advertisement in a local newspaper.”
“You ordered me a bride via newspaper advertising from a convent in New York? Why?” Jim asked incredulously.
“Because I want you to be happy,” Andreadora said with conviction.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might already be happy?”
“No, you are not. You just work all day.”
“My work makes me happy.” Jim insisted.
“You need a companion.”
“If you mean sex, believe me, I get plenty of that too, and without having to buy it.”
“I am pretty sure you do. But that is not what I meant. I want you to have a woman who loves you and whom you love” she said unfazed by her grandson’s crassness. After all, she had been handling three generations of Sullivan men.
“I will not marry this girl.” he said pointing a finger at his grandmother.
“You already are. You need to be at the station at noon tomorrow.”
“I am not going anywhere. I am not going to live with this woman just because you tricked me into a proxy marriage.”
“I am giving you six months Jim.” Andreadora rose from her place and said threateningly. She stood at her full height at 5’3’’ and still managed to intimidate her more than six-feet-tall grandson. If you are successful in making this marriage work and giving me an heir in that time, I will hand over the company to you and retire. If you fail to do so I will sell it. “
Did you consummate the marriage by proxy as well? Because unless you have it's humanly not possible to give you an heir in six months.” Jim said rising and towering above her.
“I meant, Alexandra becoming pregnant,” she said menacingly.
“You really are sick,” Jim said with such abject dejection it broke Andreadora’s heart as she started to leave the room.
“Don’t worry, I am out of your life in six months.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I am relocating to England. I will visit my family, travel, get married maybe. I will do things I have not been able to do these past years because of the responsibilities I had responsibilities.”
Thunder rattled the window as a heavy downpour began outside. Jim was dumbfounded by what his grandmother was saying. She had her life to the fullest because she had to look after him. It was like a slap in his face. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost.
“Is that how you are going to play this when nothing else works on me? Emotional blackmail? Fine, I will do it. Because whatever you do or say, there is one thing I can never deny. You have made sacrifices for my happiness. And if me marrying this girl from New York and having a child with her is going to be payback for you I certainly shall do i
t. I have too much of regard for what you have done for me. But remember, after I give you what you want, my debt shall be paid.
Chapter 3
Carefully Alexandra held the bars on either side of the bogie door and peeked out at the deserted little Silver Valley railway station. It was nothing more than a shed, beyond which the slopes of the cascades mountains rose high to kiss the clouds, like a woman rising on tiptoes to kiss her lover, the hues of lush green, jade, olive, yellow and gold all blending together to form the resplendent magnificence of the land.
Then she saw him, standing there, a lone figure, tall and handsome, his hands clasped behind his back, a frown of disapproval etched into his face. He looked at her out of mesmerizing blue eyes. The smoke from the engine had not yet cleared and engulfed him like a trick of Merlin.
The moment of impact when their eyes met, was something, Jim Sullivan, the most eligible and sought after bachelor of the, blessed with the female company in abundance, had never experienced before. Their coy eagerness took his breath away as he strode off in her direction.
“Alexandra Sullivan?” he asked offering his hand. She placed her gloved one into his, stepped down and made a perfect little curtsy. Once again Jim was caught up in the beauty of her eyes. They were the color of molten gold and their warmth was slowly spreading through his insides like the first sip of the finest malt whiskey.
When they reached the waiting carriage Alexandra turned to her husband suddenly.
“Can I drive?”
Jim Sullivan was not a snob; neither was he a sexist. He believed in women having a chance at education, vocation, and distractions. His grandmother was an example of a strong and independent woman. But none of this could have prepared him for that question.
“I beg your pardon?” He asked stunned. uncomfortable under his gaze Alex hastened to explain.
“It’s been a long journey. I still feel wobbly, as if the ground under my feet is not steady. I think some fresh air will help clear my head.