“Dear, did you hear me?”
Lucy snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes, Mrs. Epps.”
“Well?”
Lucy was caught. She hadn’t heard a word the woman had said. As they were alone in the sitting room she had allowed herself to drift off mentally to ease some of the annoyance she felt toward the woman. Now she had to admit yet another mistake.
“I’m sorry, I actually didn’t hear you.”
“I thought as much,” she said, an eyebrow arching. “You lack so many lady-like qualities, it’s a miracle your father didn’t marry you off just to avoid you making a grievous faux pas at a dinner party or something.”
“Mrs. Epps!” That was it. Lucy had heard enough, her blood running hot in her veins. “How dare you. In truth, my father did want to marry me off, but as a pawn for his business dealings and I would not have it.” She was breathing hard now. “And another thing—I may not be musically inclined by I have no trouble thinking for myself, unlike many ladies of society. I find that is a trait to be prized, not diminished.” She stood, staring the woman down. “And I’ll have you know that, despite what you may think of me, I am a good match for your son. If you care more about yourself than him, then you’ll forbid this marriage. But I’ll have you know we are rather fond of one another so take that into consideration when you make your decision about me.”
Before the woman could respond, Lucy spun on her heel and left the woman with her mouth hanging slack.
It served her right. She had every type of thought regarding the woman her son should marry, but none of them involved him or his happiness. Hopefully some of Lucy’s words had gotten through to the woman.
***
Ben slipped into the study as Lucy breezed past, her hair flying in all directions and her skin hot from emotion. She was so beautiful—and so opinionated. He held in a laugh as she stormed past, then excited the safety of the study to meet his mother in the sitting room.
No doubt Mrs. Epps would have something to say, but he was beginning to see what Lucy was saying. They had a connection that couldn’t be easily broken. Since his mother had been here, they had stolen away for rides in the morning and conversation after she went to bed. His affection had only grown for the beautiful woman, but he could also see that she had softened toward him as well.
Yet there was still the problem of his mother.
He cringed, feeling that the word problem was too harsh, and yet possibly very accurate.
“Hello, mother,” he said, stepping into the room. She looked stunned, her mouth a hard line and hands clasped in front of her.
“You’ve sure chosen a willful woman to be your bride, Benjamin.”
He swallowed and sat down in front of her. “But I love her.”
His mother rolled her eyes. “You think that, but what do you know of love? The more important question is if she will make a suitable wife!”
“What does suitable even mean? You do realize I live in the West mother—it’s not East Coast high society. It never will be.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the delicate lace handkerchief she held in her hand. “When your father died I considered moving out here with you.”
She had? She’d never mentioned it.
“But I thought better of it. My place is in the halls of society in Boston. It has always been my home and I have never imagined living anywhere else.” She met his gaze. “But Lucy is different.”
Ben wanted to defend her, to showcase her admirable qualities, her beauty, her intellect, but something in his mother’s gaze made him hold his tongue.
“In fact, I don’t think she was ever suited for high society—and I don’t mean that to diminish her character. I think she is the perfect wife for a man who lives in the West.”
He didn’t dare to breathe. Was his mother saying that she approved of their marriage? Was that too much to hope for?
“What exactly are you saying, mother?”
“You know what I'm saying,” she said, the hint of a smile surfacing on her lined features. “You should marry Lucy, though I don’t think she would have waited for me to give my approval anyway.”
He laughed. “You are very right. I don’t think she would have.”
“I wish you both the best, dear.”
He jumped to his feet, knowing that he couldn’t waste a moment. He had to go find Lucy, and he knew exactly where she would be.
Chapter 6
Lucy striped pieces of grass, tearing them into smaller pieces. She didn’t know what to do. She’d just ruined any chance of Mrs. Epps giving her approval for Lucy to marry Ben. She’d gone off and spoken her mind, which had gotten herself in trouble—like it always did.
But she couldn't sit by while the older woman spoke poorly of her. It wasn’t right, and it certainly wasn’t fair. If Ben would choose his mother over her, what kind of marriage would they have?
She laid back in the tall grass, staring up at the clouds. Did this mean she had to go back home? She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t face her father. She would find a job before she did that.
The thought made her smile, though she found litter humor in it. Mrs. Epps would have a fit that she’d even considered working.
The sound of branch cracking cause her to sit up, looking around for the source of the sound.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Ben stood several feet away. He was breathing hard and there was a reddish tinge on his cheeks like he had been running.
“I’m sorry,” she said before he could berate her for speaking back to his mother.
“For what?” he said, coming to sit next to her.
“Have you talked with your mother?”
“Oh, for that,” he said, giving her a knowing smile.
She frowned. How was he smiling? Was he happy that his mother wouldn’t give her permission for them to marry? Had his feelings changed then?
“I see,” she said, looking away from the piercing gaze of his deep brown eyes. “So you’ve changed your mind.”
“About what?”
“Me.” She twirled another long piece of grass until his hand covered hers.
“Never.”
Her gaze flew to his, the look of love radiating in his eyes.
“But—but your mother. I spoke rather forcefully to her and—”
“And she deserved it,” he said.
“Do you mean that?”
“Completely.”
She studied his features, so close to hers as he sat next to her. The warmth of his hand over hers wound its way into her heart.
“Ben, I…” she pursed her lips, thinking of the words to say. “I’m sorry, but I’ll never be like those women. The perfect wives in high society. I left New York because I didn’t want that life.”
“And I don’t want you to be like them.” He grinned. “I think at first I did, because that’s who I thought you were, but then I saw the real you…and I like that even better.” He leaned closer. “You’ve got to understand something, Lucy.”
He was so close and her heart was beating so rapidly that she could barely ask the question. “What is that?”
“I love you, not who my mother wants you to be or who your father was going to use you as. I just want you.”
***
Ben hoped the look in his eyes added even more truth to his words. Could she see that he didn’t care about everything else? He just cared about her. About loving her well and starting their life together. Everything else could work itself out in time, but his love was nonnegotiable. She had to know that.
Then, surprising him, she closed the gap between them. Her soft lips found his and his eyes closed, savoring the moment. He never wanted to leave her side. To be near her always and to feel the warm of her touch, taste the sweetness of her kiss, and know that she loved him would be enough. No—more than enough.
She pulled back and rested her hand on his cheek. “And I love you, Ben Epps. Or should I say Benjamin?” She
giggled and he drew her against him in a hug.
“No. That name is reserved for my mother—not to mention it’s much too stuffy for me, wouldn’t you say?”
“I agree.”
He looked down into her green eyes, vibrant against the background of nature. “I do have one thing to ask you though.”
“What is that?” she said with a coy smile.
Taking a big breath, he said, “Will you be my wife, Lucy Castle?”
She leaned in close again and whispered. “Now and always.
Epilogue
The Sun shone brightly across the field of wildflowers as Lucy made her way toward her groom. Ben stood under a tree, the shade of its large branches reaching out and offering shelter. He stood tall, a big grin on his face, his eyes glued to her.
Some of the men from the ranch, Carl, Kate, and Mrs. Epps sat in chairs that had been carted out to the field. It was an unconventional wedding, but Lucy hadn’t seen the day going any differently.
As she approached the front where a trellis of wild flowers and vines had been constructed, she faced Ben and he joined their hands together, giving her fingers a light squeeze.
The pastor from town spoke of love and devotion to one another, but the only thing Lucy could think of was the fact that Ben loved her for her. He saw her flaws, her unconventional nature, and her wild ideas, and yet he still loved her. He did what her father never had—accepted her. And now she would pledge her life to him, not because of a business merger or because her life was a pawn to be used, but because of love.
Finally, when they had spoken their vows the pastor named them man and wife, giving Ben the approval to kiss his bride.
He stepped close, lifting the delicate veil that had covered her face. The wind swept across her skin sending shivers down her arms, but the warmth from his eyes made the coldness fall away.
“Just remember,” Ben whispered, leaning so close his breath fanned across her face, “I love you, my dear Lucy, and all of who you are.”
His lips met hers and she knew his words were spoken in truth, the reality of his devotion overwhelming her. She would spend the rest of her days showing the man in front of her just how much she believed him, and how much she loved him back.
THE END.
Alone and Pregnant
Mail Order Bride
Christian Michael
Chapter One
A lone bird sang as the preacher’s droning voice washed over her. For once, the good Reverend Josiah Clark’s monotone was perfect for the occasion. Jillian closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what the man was saying. Her husband lay in the simple pine box deep within the hole. It was her duty to listen and play the dutiful widow.
The bird sang again, a lilting trill that seemed out of place in the midst of the gloomy ceremony. Jillian risked a glance upward, peering through the spreading branches of the old oak until she spotted the little brown bird just as he opened his beak once more. The beautiful melody came again. A beautiful song from a plain little bird.
The woman beside her shifted. Jillian pulled her gaze away from the bird and tried again to listen to Reverend Clark. She could feel the irritation radiating from the black draped woman beside her. Clarence’s mother never could stand any deviation from her carefully laid plans, even something as small as a bird singing during her son’s funeral service.
The bird had better beware or the song he sang so charmingly would be snatched from his lips. Mrs. Vandergeld had no room in her life for singing or beauty. Or maybe it was just that the joy that created such things could not exist under her autocratic thumb. Either way, Jillian needed to be gone before her mother-in-law discovered the secret hidden beneath her mourning dress.
“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, Lord into your hands we commit the body of our brother, Clarence Vandergeld.” Reverend Clark closed the worn bible in his hands and bowed his head. The throng surrounding the open grave followed his lead.
Jillian was grateful for the black veil that hid her face. She didn’t think she could hide the contempt she had for the lot of them. Not today. None of them came for Clarence’s sake. His death would leave no holes in their lives. Chances are it wouldn’t cause the slightest ripple in the well-ordered world of the upper class. They came because it was the polite thing to do … and because Mrs. Vandergeld would know and mark those who did not attend.
Mrs. Vandergeld ruled her society followers like a queen, granting favors to those who pleased her and social ruin to those who offended her. Jillian didn’t know why they stood for it.
She wouldn’t have to put up with it for much longer. Clarence was dead, killed by a fall from his horse when he was too drunk to stay in the saddle. Jillian was free. Free of his whining, free of his drunken attentions, and most important, free from his mother’s control.
A smile curled her lips, the first in many months.
* * *
“How can you do this to me, Miss Jones?” David paced the room, refusing to look at the plump woman sitting beside the fireplace. Her gloved hands stayed neatly folded on her lap, her skirt and shirtwaist perfectly pressed, and a silver pin held a tiny pink rosebud at her throat. Her calmness served only to increase his frustration.
“Mr. David, you know I’ve been stepping out with Hank Brewster for a while now.” The blush that spread over her face looked odd on a woman old enough to be his mother. “Now that we are married, it is only right that I give up my position here to keep house for my husband.”
David swallowed the growl that threatened to rise up again. “Aren’t you happy here, Miss Jones? Haven’t I been good to you?”
“It’s Mrs. Brewster now.” The blushing bride stood up with all her matronly to stand in front of him. “Mr. David, you are a good boy and have been a good employer, but it is every woman’s dream to have a man who loves her. Part of that is making a pleasant home for him and growing old together. Mr. Brewster and I are no longer young and we need to make the most of the time we have left.”
All the anger and frustration leaked out of him with a sigh. David bent down to kiss Miss Jones … Mrs. Brewster’s cheek. “I will be lost without you, Mrs. Brewster. Hank is a very lucky man and I hope you will be very happy together.”
His former housekeeper patted his cheek. “Why don’t you find yourself a wife, Mr. David? A sweet, pretty, young thing that will keep your house and make you happy. Even God said it isn’t good for a man to be alone.”
“I have no desire for a wife.” David shook his head. “I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”
His former housekeeper laughed. “Oh, Mr. David, you have such a good heart, you will figure it out someday.”
David walked her to the wagon where Hank Brewster watched the house anxiously. When the grizzled old farmer saw his bride, his face lit up until he looked years younger. Perhaps he had been afraid David would talk his wife into staying on. Seeing the two beaming at each other as though nothing else existed, David knew he never could have done it.
Forcing a smile onto his face, David kept it firmly in place as they drove away. It wasn’t until the wagon and Mrs. Brewster’s cheerfully waving hanky disappeared behind a plume of dust that David let his face relax.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, David stalked through the spotless house. Slumping in his chair, he stretched his long legs out and crossed his ankles. Following Miss Jo … Mrs. Brewster’s advice was all well and good, but where was he supposed to find a wife way out here? There were few unattached women in this dusty stretch of plains and those were not exactly prime marriage material.
David scowled morosely into the empty fireplace and tapped his fingers on the paper lying on the table. There had to be someone who would stay with him and keep house. He had enough to do running his fledgling ranch without being burdened by cooking and cleaning as well.
He glanced down at his desk. The paper under his hand was unfamiliar, had Miss … Mrs. Brewster left it behind? An advertisement glared out at him in bo
ld text.
Lonely on the plains? Desolate in the mountains? Find the perfect bride from among hundreds of lonely women from back East. Advertise with the Matrimonial Times!
It couldn’t hurt to try. He hated being alone.
Chapter Two
Jillian nodded at the servant hovering at her side, wordlessly accepting the offer of dessert. Even after a full meal, it seemed like she couldn’t get enough.
“You have had enough, don’t you think?” Mrs. Vandgergeld’s sharp voice cut through the otherwise quiet room. “I noticed at the church that you seem to be putting on some weight. I will not have you mocking dear Clarence’s memory by getting fat.”
The servant stepped away from the table and disappeared through the door to the kitchen. The older woman’s plate was heaped with the sweet without any thought for ‘dear Clarence’s memory’.
Holding her hands in her lap, Jillian twisted the linen napkin between her fingers. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t noticed such a thing.” Sara, her maid, had said something similar when tightening the laces of her corset this morning. Jillian pressed a trembling hand to her stomach. She would have to leave sooner than she thought.
“I will inform the kitchen that your diet is to be strictly monitored. We have an image to maintain and I will not have your base background ruin it. I really do not know you managed to beguile dear Clarence into marrying you. He always had such refined taste.” The older woman’s voice broke and she dabbed at her eyes with a lace hanky.
Jillian bit the inside of her cheek to keep from opening her mouth. She had no desire to speak ill of the dead and telling her mother-in-law the truth about her son would only cause more pain. As demeaning as Mrs. Vandergeld had been to her, the woman had doted on her only child.
Perhaps that had been Clarence’s biggest problem. From childhood, Clarence had been given anything he asked for. He didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’. A year ago, he had visited Jillian’s school in the company of a friend and had promptly fallen head over heels in love. He had wooed her with flowers, poetry, and pretty trinkets until Jillian’s head was quite turned.
[2016] Widow Finds Love Page 21
