Violet: Bride of North Dakota (American Mail-Order Bride 39)

by Heather Horrocks

  James said, “She didn’t even know me, so I couldn’t really break her heart. I embarrassed her, I’m sure.”

  “You can excuse away your guilt, but you brought her here to marry you, and you didn’t have the honor to do so.”

  “I proposed to her again. She turned me down.”

  A flush of happiness filled Daniel. “She did?”

  “She claimed she might be falling in love with you—and you’re refusing to even consider courting her. So you’re not marrying her either. And you are doubtless breaking her heart more than I ever could.”

  The words cut into his heart. Shaking his head, he said, “It’s not the way of it. I’m too old for her.”

  “I told her as much. She apparently has lost her mind and thinks you would make a good husband.”

  Daniel was quiet for a long moment.

  James sighed and crossed his arms. “You don’t even know the words to say, do you? You could offer her a ring right now, and put it on her finger, and she’d probably say yes. You’re just as scared as I was. You’re no different than me.”

  If she’d told James, it must be true. She loved him?

  And she didn’t care that he was ten years older. So why should he? He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman.

  He could marry her. If he could find the words.

  James punched him in the arm. Hard. “That’s for stealing my bride. You owe me for a train ticket.”

  “All right,” Daniel said. “And you stay away from her.”

  “I know when I’m not wanted. I might just move on out of town for a few more months until this whole thing dies down.” James drew in another deep breath. “Now could you please go home, Daniel Lund? I’ve had a long day.”

  “Kidnapping takes it out of a man, I reckon.”

  “I thought she was playing hard to get and wanted to marry me. She certainly wanted to when she first came to town.”

  Daniel nodded. “I came here to talk some sense into you.”

  “You did. I’ll stay away. Now please go talk to your sister and ask her to help you or you’re going to blow it, too.”

  “That’s a good idea,” and he headed for the door.

  “Idiot,” he heard James mutter, but he kept going.

  As he climbed on his horse and turned toward home, his heart soared.

  He could marry Violet. He just had to court her, and Amelia would help him with that. Which was good, because he didn’t have the slightest idea how.

  Brilliant greens and blues flickered overhead, reminding him of how late it was. He would go to Amelia’s house first thing in the morning.

  And begin making Violet his wife.

  I had such high hopes coming to Minot, first with James and then, later, with Daniel. Life has a way of disappointing.

  (Journal Entry, Violet Keating, December 6, 1890)

  Amelia poured another cup of hot cocoa for Violet and one for herself and sat beside her.

  “Thank you, Amelia. You have been nothing but kind and generous to me.” Violet pulled the mug toward her. “Your brother, on the other hand—”

  ”Is a dolt. I know.” Amelia patted her hand. “Please don’t give up. He’s just really stupid, so why you’d even want him is beyond me.”

  Violet sighed. “I don’t want to have to chase after a man. I want a man who wants me enough to pursue me.”

  “I can tell you that Daniel cares very much for you.”

  “I told him I thought I was falling in love with him.”

  Amelia sighed and leaned back in her chair, a pained expression on her face.

  Violet looked into her eyes. “There’s a train that leaves at seven in the morning, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you take me to the train station to catch it?”

  Reluctantly, Amelia nodded. “Yes. I’m so sorry to see you leave. You have become like a sister to me.”

  Violet leaned over and hugged Amelia. “I’ve had other friends, but you and Rachel seem like the only true family I have. I love you dearly.”

  “Then please stay longer. Give the dolt more time.”

  “I wish I could. But this has become too hard for me.”

  “But where will you go?”

  “I have a friend who didn’t become a mail-order bride with the rest of us. She will take me in, I think. And I will find another job.”

  “Stay here. If you don’t marry Daniel, you have other men interested in you.”

  Violet closed her eyes. “Oh, how I wish I could. But it would be torture to see Daniel and know I could never have him.”

  She opened her eyes, drank the hot cocoa, and rose from the table. Turning back to her friend, she said, “I need to pack my few things.”

  I am the fool.

  (Journal Entry, Daniel Lund, December 6, 1890)

  DANIEL HAD ARISEN EARLY SATURDAY and cleaned himself up as though he were going to church, even putting on his church clothes.

  He’d come to a decision during the night, during those long hours when he couldn’t sleep. He’d realized he couldn’t live without Violet. She lit up his world, and he was going to ask her to be his wife. He wanted to look his best when he did so.

  He studied himself in the mirror. He was, indeed, older than her, but still in the prime of his life. She’d said she loved him—and had told Evans she did, as well. She didn’t care about the age difference—so he wouldn’t let it bother him, either.

  He got out the wagon and hooked up his horse. Climbing up, he clicked his tongue and lightly flicked the reins. The horse responded, pulling the wagon toward his sister’s house.

  All the way there, he practiced what he would say.

  Will you do me the honor of... No, that sounded too formal.

  I love you, Violet Keating... Perhaps too abrupt.

  Nice weather we’re having... Too vague.

  He hated the way his thoughts locked up when he was around Violet. He’d probably go in and grunt like an ape. That would surely impress her.

  He pulled up before his sister’s house far too soon. He pulled the horse to a stop, and climbed down.

  Why was his heart pounding so hard? It was as though he’d run from home, not ridden in a wagon.

  He took a moment to straighten his clothes and run a hand through his unruly hair. Drawing in a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

  Sven opened it, his gaze traveling down to Daniel’s toes and back up to his head. “You going to a wedding or a funeral?”

  “I need to speak with Violet.”

  “Zachary and Amelia drove her to the train station.”

  “What?!” Shocked, he could hardly get the word out.

  He nodded. “She’s going home. You’re an idiot and you waited too long.”

  It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t lose her now. “Maybe I can still get there before the train.”

  “Not if you keep standing here chewing the fat with me.”

  “Bye,” Daniel said as he took off at a dead run. Turning the horse, he headed to the train station and prayed he wasn’t too late.

  As he drove, Daniel had trouble breathing. If he were to lose Violet, he would lose his whole world. He couldn’t let that happen.

  He had been a fool. And now he had to figure out how to make things right.

  Before she caught the train. Though if she did catch the train, he would buy a ticket and follow her. He could talk the station master into telling him where she was going.

  He remembered that first day at the station, when Violet had looked at him across the station as though he’d hung the moon. He’d seen admiration and attraction in her eyes—and then she’d learned he wasn’t her groom.

  But now he wanted to be. So if she was still at the station, he would replay that day—only he would play the part of the groom she’d traveled five days for.

  He would grovel and beg, if need be.

  He must have her!

  Dear Amelia,

  You have truly become a
sister to me and I can never repay you for the love and kindness you have shown me. You, of all people, know how much I love your hard-hearted brother. I would have loved you to be my sister-in-law and... I won’t think anymore of what might have been. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope your baby is a girl because I know that’s what you want. May all God’s blessings surround you.

  All my love, Violet

  (Note left under Amelia’s pillow on December 6, 1890)

  Violet hugged Amelia. “I don’t know how to thank you for taking me in when I first arrived.”

  “Thank me by staying, at least for a few more days. Surely he will come to his senses by then.”

  Violet’s heart was heavy. “He won’t. He told me himself. He isn’t made for marriage.”

  Zachary watched from farther down the platform.

  Amelia glanced at him. “My other brother would marry you in a heartbeat.”

  “And can you just imagine how pleasant family get-togethers would be?”

  Amelia shrugged. “I suppose that’s right.”

  They heard the train whistle and could see the smoke from the engine move closer. She only had a short time now before she headed back East.

  People began to mill about on the platform. Several young couples, one with two small toddlers. An older gentleman played a harmonica. A group of ten-year-old boys ran across and disappeared behind the station house.

  Violet had come to this town with such high hopes. And now she was running away.

  Amelia looked behind Violet and her eyes widened. “Well, look at that. The confirmed bachelor has just turned himself into an eligible bachelor, I do believe.”

  Violet turned.

  Daniel pulled his horse to a stop and jumped from the wagon. Frantically, he hurried onto the platform and scanned everyone until he saw her—and then he hurried toward her.

  The train drew closer and blew its whistle again.

  Daniel slowed, walking toward her deliberately, his hat in his hand. He looked much as he had the day she’d arrived in town—only dressed in his Sunday best.

  Her heart caught in her throat. What was he doing here?

  She stepped toward him, and stopped.

  She couldn’t take her eyes from his. As he walked closer, he smiled, and his face lit up.

  When he got to her, he said, “I certainly hope you are the mail-order bride I sent a ticket to, because with a face this beautiful, I would love to wake up and face each day with you.”

  She tipped her head, trying to figure out what he was doing, exactly.

  “You are Miss Violet Keating, I presume?”

  She nodded and said, “Yes. I am she.”

  “Oh, I am so glad to meet you finally.”

  “About that ticket, I still owe James for that.”

  “Shhh, ma’am. We will not talk about James whom, by the way, I already paid for the ticket. So it is indeed I who paid for your ticket to come here.”

  She smiled at him. “That kind of puts me in your debt, doesn’t it?”

  He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t have a ring yet to place on your finger, but we can fix that later.”

  The train pulled into the station and came to a stop in a great puff of steam and smoke.

  After it had quieted again, Daniel knelt on one knee before her, still holding her hand. “Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife, Violet Keating? For I love you with all my heart and soul. I cannot imagine life without you.”

  “Yes,” she said, her heart melting.

  He stood and pulled her into his arms. Leaning down, he kissed her lips—and the people around them clapped their approval.

  Behind them, she heard the conductor call out the warning she’d heard before: “You’ve reached Minot, North Dakota, end of the line. Prepare to meet your doom.”

  Daniel smiled. “I think he just said prepare to meet your groom.”

  She laughed. “I think you’re right.”

  “May I carry your bag, Miss Keating? We will be going directly to the pastor’s house to be married.”

  Amelia said, “How sweet. I knew you could do it, Daniel.”

  Violet took his arm. “Can we hurry this up? I’ve been waiting a long time to be married.”

  He laughed happily.

  Epilogue

  My dearest Violet,

  We will arrive a week before Christmas. I am so looking forward to our visit! We will bring Baby Wyatt with us, and Mrs. Gentry will take care of Cassie and Thomas’s mother. We will come bearing gifts.

  Love, Mrs. Rachel Buchanan

  (Letter mailed November 21, 1891)

  Minot, North Dakota

  December 18, 1891

  VIOLET REACHED UP TO HANG a tiny wooden ornament—one Daniel had crafted for her—on the tree.

  Daniel reached over and took it. “Let me handle the taller stuff.”

  “All right,” she said.

  This past year had held great joy. They’d celebrated their first Christmas together shortly after their marriage, and this was their second.

  She’d reconnected with Rachel and Laurel and Darby and Cora, and Rachel had said they would be traveling for a visit. Violet could hardly wait.

  Daniel’s brothers were here, as well as his parents, and Amelia and Sven. Her sister-in-law cradled her three-month-old baby girl in her arms, cooing at her. She was surrounded by the family she’d always wanted.

  Violet’s belly held a child, as well, and she rested her hand on it to feel the baby move and kick. The baby was expected mid-February, but surely she wouldn’t go that long. How much bigger could she get?

  Daniel hung the little painted candy cane from a higher branch and turned to her with a smile, pulling her into a hug. “I’m glad you like the tree. I spent a full day finding the perfect one for you.”

  “I know. In three feet of snow. Uphill, both ways.” She smiled at him.

  “Yes. And I deserve a kiss for that.”

  She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. He was gentle with her, placing his large hand on her belly.

  He was so cute with the baby. Already, he sang and told stories to the baby, as if he or she was already here.

  Violet was praying for a little girl, but she would love a little boy, as well.

  Zachary said, “Stop with all the kissing. You’re making me jealous.”

  Everyone laughed, and Daniel pulled back. Still gazing into her eyes, he said, “I love you.”

  She said, “I love you back.”

  Zachary groaned. “Please. I’m begging you.”

  Violet went over and hugged Zachary, and whispered in his ear, “If you would just propose to that pretty little Emily Burton, you could be kissing your own wife under your own Christmas tree.”

  He sighed. “I’m afraid she’ll turn me down.”

  Violet nodded and pulled back. “I know. You can do it. She’s crazy about you. There’s no way she’s letting you get away.”

  There was a knock at the door. Violet exchanged glances with Daniel. Then she rushed—well, as fast as a seven-months-pregnant woman could rush—to the door and flung it open.

  On the doorstep stood Rachel and her husband, Thomas Buchanan! Rachel stepped in, two-month-old Wyatt in her arms, and pulled her into an awkward hug, the bundle of baby pressing against Violet’s expectant belly.

  Rachel whispered, “You were right. All of our dreams did come true.”

  Violet’s heart was full as she felt her baby move within her and saw Daniel watching her, an adoring look on his face. “Yes, they did.”

  ~ The Happy Ending ~

  Thank you!

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my book, Violet: Bride of North Dakota, 39th in the unprecedented American Mail-Order Bride series.

  IF YOU ENJOYED READING THIS BOOK, THERE ARE 49 MORE IN THE SERIES!

  Find out about the rest of the American Mail-Order Brides here. Also click on the link in the first paragraph on that page to read th
e first ten pages of the prequel free (or click here for free prequel).

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  AUTHOR’S NOTE.

  I’m so glad to be part of this amazing series. It’s been delightful to learn about North Dakota—especially that you can see the northern lights from there! I have worked to keep this book historically accurate, but please forgive me for taking literary license in a few places. At least one of the train conductors (Casper Sands) really did announce, “Prepare to meet your doom!” or “Prepare to meet your God!” when they got to Minot, North Dakota, until the tracks moved on to Williston—which they did a couple of years before my story, but I had to include this delightful tidbit. The Grand Forks Metropolitan Opera House was actually nearly open at the time of this story (fortuitous for me), and the townsfolk of Bottineau did actually move their town a mile and a half to the south in 1887 so they would be on the railroad line that was being built. Though Jack Doyle’s and the history surrounding the first Christmas tree and party are historically accurate, the inside was designed solely by me. I made up many details about the town of Minot, for example, in the general store.

  DID YOU SEE ANY (GASP!) ERRORS OR TYPOS?

  Though this book has gone through numerous edits, by myself and others, including professional editors and beta readers, we are human. If you spot any errors or typos, please email me at BooksByHeatherHorrocks@gmail.com and let me know! I want my books to be as clean as possible, both in content and in format.

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