His eyes still sparkled but had turned darker than she had ever seen them. He walked to her and took her hands from the others’ grasps and led her closer to the Christmas tree that had been set next to the window.
“Maddie,” he said, his voice a little like an old bullfrog. He cleared his throat, dropped to one knee, and started again. “Maddie.” He reached into his suit coat pocket and extracted the small box as he had the night before. “I have loved you since the first time I saw you standing by your father and welcoming the congregation to church. Ever since then, I have worked and toiled with one goal in mind: asking you to be my wife.”
Maddie’s heart pounded as she listened to his words. His confession was real this time. Well, it had been real the other two times before, but this time she knew it was real. Her hand trembled as he squeezed her suddenly cold fingers.
“Now the time has come. Maddie Sinclair, with your father’s blessing, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
“Yes,” she whispered as happy tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I would like to present you with this,” Harlan continued, releasing her fingers to take the lid from the ornate box. The beautiful cameo lay there, still nestled in the burgundy velvet. “It belonged to my grandmother. I want you to wear it with the knowledge that you are loved.”
“I will.” She tugged him to his feet. “Always,” she murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. “Always and forever.”
Her family surrounded them, oohing and aahing at the cameo and the love found on this Christmas Day.
“Look,” Prissy said, pointing out the window. “It’s snowing again.”
Grace smiled at the happy couple. “Looks like we’ll have the rest of the day to make wedding plans.”
Maddie’s heart melted a little more as Harlan smiled. “Make sure that plan includes one of those fancy new wedding cakes I’ve been hearing about,” he said.
“Oh,” Maddie gushed, certain she would be the first bride in all of Calico Falls with such a fancy offering.
“I’ll get a paper and pencil and we can work out all the details,” Prissy said, starting for the desk.
“Just one thing,” Harlan said, stopping her in her tracks. “The wedding cake can be as big as you want, but no gingerbread.”
About the Author
Amy Lillard is a 2013 Carol Award–winning author for romance. She received this honor for her novel Saving Gideon, set in the Amish country of Oklahoma. Saving Gideon is book 1 of the Clover Ridge Series. Her other Clover Ridge titles include Katie’s Choice and Gabriel’s Bride. Her new trilogy, the Wells Landing Series, begins with Caroline’s Secret, releasing in August 2014. Amy is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. Born and bred in Mississippi, she now lives in Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-five years and their teenage son. Amy can be reached at [email protected] and www.amywritesromance.com.
The Fruitcake Bride
by Vickie McDonough
Chapter 1
Bakerstown, Missour
December 1890
Sitting on the edge of her seat, Karen Briggs wiped the dust off the train window with her handkerchief and searched the crowded depot for her fiancé. With a loud hiss, the train shuddered to a stop. She’d had the whole journey to ponder her decision to marry Clay Parsons. Had she made the right choice?
No matter. It was too late to turn back now. She donned her cloak, snatched up her satchel, and hurried to the door.
The conductor grinned as he bent and picked up the step stool that rested beside the door. “You must be meetin’ a feller to be so eager.”
“My fiancé. He’s the pastor of Bakerstown Chapel.”
“Is he that Parson Parsons I’ve heard about?”
Karen blinked at the odd moniker. “Um … well, he is Pastor Clayton Parsons.” Behind her, several other passengers lined up to exit. With so few debarking, why was such a large crowd gathered at the depot? Perhaps someone had a big family.
The conductor opened the door, allowing in a gush of chilly air. He stepped out and set the stool in place, but when he reached up to help her down, Clay rushed forward. “Please, sir, allow me.”
Karen’s apprehension fled, and her heart leaped like a young filly in a field of daisies as her intended smiled up at her. “Clay!”
He lifted her to the platform and into his arms for a brief hug then set her down and moved her out of the way of the other passengers. His blue-green eyes roamed her face as if looking for change. “I’m so glad you came.”
She hoped she would be happy here—could make him happy. “It seems like years since you last left Arcadia instead of months.”
Clay stepped back but held on to one of her elbows. A group of people crowded around them, most wearing bright smiles and all staring at her. Karen touched her hair to see if the pins had come loose. Two women toward the back of the crowd lifted up a sign that said: WELCOME!
“These kind people are some of my parishioners. They were eager to meet you and welcome you to Bakerstown.”
Karen smiled, even though disappointment coursed through her. She’d hoped for some time with Clay alone to discuss their arrangement, but being the future wife of a pastor, she knew she had to be gracious and share him. Her gaze traveled the crowd. She hoped most of these people would soon become her friends. “Thank y’all so much. It’s very kind of you to come.”
Clay made quick introductions then left her with the church people while he made arrangements for her two trunks to be delivered to the boardinghouse, where he’d secured a room for her.
“We just love Pastor Clay. He’s such a fine young man—and handsome, too.”
Was she Miss Herbert or Mrs. Wells? Karen grappled for the right name, but it flew away like a spooked bird.
“Hush, Emma Lou. She’ll think you’ve got designs on her fiancé.” A buxom woman holding one end of the sign fanned her face in spite of the chilly day.
“Why I never.” Emma Lou’s cheeks grew red as beet juice. “He’s young enough to be my son.”
“If you had a son,” a man in back hollered in a good-natured tone.
A gentleman in a suit squeezed through the crowd, followed by a woman holding one of the sign poles.
“Emmett, slow down.” She tugged on the pole as she moved forward, and a loud rip echoed across the platform as the banner split in two. Both women holding the poles stumbled.
Karen swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping the ruined sign wasn’t a premonition of things to come.
“Mother, really.” A pretty woman, who looked to be Karen’s age, caught the toppling woman. “Must you always make a scene?”
“I declare, Helen. You’ve ruined the sign.” The woman in back holding the other pole pursed her lips and shook her head.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Loraine.” Helen straightened her bonnet.
“Never mind, ladies. We don’t need a sign to welcome Miss Briggs to Bakerstown.” Emmett stepped forward, hat in hand, along with Helen, still holding the stick and torn sign. “I’m Emmett Willard, mayor of Advent and a church council member, and this is my lovely wife, Helen.”
He motioned to the younger woman who’d caught Helen. She stepped forward, eyeing Karen as if she were a maggot. Someone—or something—sure had put a wasp under her petticoat.
Mr. Willard cleared his voice, drawing Karen’s gaze back to him. “This is our lovely daughter, Prudence.”
“Prudy, Papa.”
He sent her a patronizing smile with a warning in his gaze. “Prudy, then. Miss Briggs, we’re happy that you’ve finally arrived and hope you’ll enjoy living in our small town.”
Prudy snorted, yanking Karen’s gaze back to her. The woman covered up her action with a quick cough.
Shifting her feet, Karen wasn’t sure what to make of the pretty blond woman. She reminded herself to stay in a gracious mood and turned away from Prudy. “Thank you, Mr. Willard. It’s so nice of everyone to tak
e time from your busy schedules to greet me. I look forward to getting to know each of you.”
Heads nodded, smiles abounded, and Karen relaxed a smidgeon. She must have said the right thing. Learning to be a pastor’s wife might be harder than she had expected. She didn’t want to do or say anything that could harm Clay’s ministry in Bakerstown.
Clay rushed to her side, eyes twinkling like the ocean in sunlight. “I’ve taken care of your luggage. Would you like to go to the boardinghouse now?”
Tired from the long day’s journey and stress of her situation, Karen nodded. Even though she truly appreciated meeting some of the church people, she hoped the crowd wouldn’t accompany them.
Clay looked over the group, smiling wide. “I can’t thank you enough for coming out to greet Karen. It was mighty kind of y’all. I know she’d like to talk with each of you, but as you can see, she’s exhausted from her travels.”
“It’s all right, Pastor.” An older man on the left, leaning heavily on a cane, stepped forward. “We know you two young’uns need time alone.” He winked at Karen, and her cheeks warmed.
Prudy crossed her arms and glared at her.
“We have a dinner reception planned for Sunday after church,” Mrs. Willard said. “You’ll get to meet the rest of our church family and try some of our Prudy’s rhubarb pie.”
Karen certainly hoped Prudy’s pie was sweeter than her disposition.
“Thanks again for coming out today.” Clay shook Mr. Willard’s hand and several other men’s.
The crowd began to disperse, and the man who’d winked at her hobbled up to them and leaned on his cane. “It was a pleasure to meet you, missy. Parson Parsons sure landed himself a purty bride.”
Clay beamed. “You’re right about that, Jasper. Thank you for meeting the train.”
“Happy to do so.” He smiled a gap-toothed grin then turned and shuffled toward the stairs.
“Parson Parsons?” Karen turned to Clay and teasingly lifted one eyebrow.
A warm grin lifted his lips as he shrugged. “It’s sort of an endearment some of the men use.”
“It was kind of them to greet me, but is it awful of me to say I’m glad they left?”
“Of course not.” He offered his elbow. “They were eager to meet you, but they respect our need to be alone.”
She glanced at the train and saw two children with their noses to the window. “We aren’t alone.”
Clay waved at the two boys and smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you settled at the boardinghouse and then eat some supper. I know you’ve got to be tired after your long trip across Missouri.”
As he led her toward the depot steps, Karen surveyed what she could see of the small town. It looked to have only about a dozen streets with businesses lining the closest ones and then houses on the outer streets. “Where’s your church?”
Clay paused at the top of the steps and pointed to the southeast. “If you look two streets over and across the tops of the buildings, you can see the steeple.” He turned to face her, looking uncertain. “The church isn’t very big—only about twenty-five families.”
Karen patted his arm. “Size doesn’t matter. Arcadia wasn’t very big, either, but it was a fine town. I’m sure Bakerstown is, too.”
“You don’t think you’ll regret moving here?”
She hoped not, but then she had no other option. “My home is with you now.”
He gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you feel that way. I have to admit being a bit worried you’d change your mind.”
The tension drained from her in light of his warm welcome. Maybe things would work out. “I might miss climbing Pilot Knob in the summer and feeling the cool air wafting up from the mine shafts.”
“There were times this past summer I wished I was back home to enjoy that with you. It was quite hot here.”
She tugged her cloak closed as a gust of cool air blew across the depot. “We don’t have to worry about the heat now. Not with Christmas in just a few weeks.”
“Will you be able to be ready for a Christmas Eve wedding?” Clay asked as he helped her down the stairs to the street.
“I should be.” If she could lose her anxiety about marrying Clay because of her situation.
“And you’re not sorry we’re not marrying in Arcadia?”
“I would have enjoyed having our friends there, but your parents are coming, aren’t they?”
He nodded. “Ma’s last letter stated they would arrive on the twenty-third. I just wish your aunt was still around to see you married. She would have been proud.”
Aunt Alice would have been delighted to hear she was marrying Clay Parsons, but not so happy with their marriage of convenience—or rather, marriage of desperation. With her aunt deceased and the house for sale, she had no other options—and Clay needed a wife. She hoped their long friendship was a strong enough foundation for marriage.
“I’m glad you finally agreed to my proposal. I was starting to lose hope.”
“I know a good thing when I see it.” She couldn’t resist teasing him, as she had so often in the past. His friendship had been one of the best things about moving to Arcadia to live with her aunt.
Clay tugged her closer as they crossed the street. “You’re a wise woman.”
“Wise enough to nab the preacher.” She smiled up at him.
Maybe things would work out, after all.
Chapter 2
Karen closed the door to her room and leaned against it, smiling. The past hour and a half spent catching up with Clay had been wonderful. Their friendship seemed as close as ever. He’d been the big brother she never had, and that was one thing that concerned her about marrying him. She knew she loved Clay, but was it a romantic love? A love strong enough to endure a lifetime of marriage?
She’d also feared their long separation might have caused him to care less for her, but that wasn’t the case, if the warm gaze in his eyes was an indication of his feelings.
Only a few more weeks and she’d be his wife. She needed to find a way to rid herself of her doubts. Clay seemed excited about their marriage, and she knew she’d never find a better man.
She crossed the room to the desk where her satchel sat, but her eyes landed on something hidden behind it. A package wrapped in brown store paper and tied with twine. She tugged the note free and read it out loud. “A present for your kitchen, to be used when mixin’. With affection, Clay.”
Curious, she untied the twine and unwrapped the gift. She lifted up the smallest of the three tan mixing bowls that had a blue accent line around it. Clay must be craving some of the sweets she used to bake for him back in Arcadia. She placed the bowl with its mates, thankful for the gift but wishing it had been a bit more romantic. But the man she was marrying was highly practical, and that was one thing about him she admired. And more than likely, one of the reasons he’d proposed.
Karen wandered over to the window that looked out onto Main Street. She hoped to catch a glimpse of Clay as he walked back to the parsonage, but the street was empty. As she leaned against the cool glass, her insecurities came storming back. She knew her lack of trust stemmed from her father’s abandonment, leaving her at her aunt’s shortly after her mother died. She’d been a scared, confused girl of eight, but then Clay had entered her life and become her best friend—her protector. He would never desert her like her father had.
Karen yawned and turned away from the window, ready to crawl in bed. As she removed her dress, her concerns taunted her. What if she wasn’t gracious enough or lost her temper with the women of the church over some petty issue? And could she make Clay happy? Did she really have it in her to be the wife he needed?
Clay pried loose one of the trim boards around the window the Langston twins had broken on Sunday after church and tossed it to the ground. Carefully, he removed the broken glass and dropped it into a bucket, where it shattered into smaller pieces. He cleaned the area around the pane, installed the new piece of glass, and then reaffixed the trim. T
he new addition gleamed in the morning sunlight, filling Clay with a sense of accomplishment.
“It’s a blessing that you’re so handy with tools.”
He glanced over his shoulder, glad to see Karen. “Why is that?”
“It must save the church a lot of money.”
Clay climbed down, pondering her statement. Was Karen concerned that he couldn’t adequately provide for her? She had lived with her widowed aunt, who’d been left somewhat well off after her husband’s passing. “If I hadn’t repaired it, someone else in the church would have stepped up and done it.”
“Oh.” Karen’s smile dimmed. “I hadn’t thought of that. My aunt always hired out any work she needed done, so I assumed you’d have to also.”
“I prefer to see to most of the repairs to the church and parsonage—at least, I do if I have the time.”
“Well, you did an excellent job.”
“Thank you.” Clay warmed under his fiancée’s approval. Ever since Karen moved to Arcadia to live with her aunt, he’d been her champion. She’d been so sad at first, missing her ma and constantly looking for her pa to return—but he never had. Clay eyed the basket she held over her arm. “What do you have in there?”
“I thought since it was such a nice day today, maybe we could have a picnic. Mrs. Grady was kind enough to fix an extra sandwich for you.”
Clay smiled. “Having lunch with you sounds like a delight.”
Karen ducked her head, her cheeks turning a comely shade of red. “It won’t be long before we’ll enjoy every meal together.”
Clay glanced around and realized they were alone. He stepped closer and ran his index finger along Karen’s soft cheek. “I can’t tell you how much I look forward to that.”
“Really?” She stared up at him, looking less sure than he wished. Was she having doubts?
He’d prayed about their marriage so much and felt certain it was God’s will for them. “Of course. I’ve been dreaming of the day.”
The 12 Brides of Christmas Collection Page 44
