The Outlaw Takes A Bride: A Historical Western Romance (Bernstein Sisters Historical Cowboy Romance Series Book 5)

by Amy Field

  “I’m sorry, Brandon. It’s just that this is all so new to me and I am a bit confused about what I want,” she confessed.

  “What you want?” he scoffed. “I thought it was to provide a stable home for your child and to have a husband who will take care of you.”

  He began to pace the kitchen and she watched him in angst. Turning towards her he said, “I bought the wood for the crib today. I wanted to tell you that. If you are ready to start a future with me, you will send him away and I will begin my work on a bed for the little one,” he finished.

  The back door swung open and they both turned to see Abram come through. He looked surprised to see Brandon, but quickly masked his expression before greeting him.

  “Brandon, right?” he asked. Brandon simply nodded his head as he looped his fingers into his suspenders.

  “I’ll be in the living room,” Brandon told her before heading for the door. That left only her and Abram in a kitchen that suddenly felt too stuffy.

  “I take it he wasn’t pleased that I was here,” he spoke, breaking the silence.

  “No, he wasn’t,” she confessed.

  “I guess that means this is to be my last time visiting you then,” he laughed.

  “You can still visit me,” she tried to reason, but he held up his hand to stop her.

  “It’s alright. A man knows when to accept defeat.” Looking deeply into her eyes he continued, “I only hope this is what you truly want, Emma.” Then he was gone and she suddenly felt empty. The warmth that had once been with her seemed to have been completely sucked from the room and out of her body.

  She didn’t see him for the remainder of the week and when she saw him at service, he simply gave her a kind smile. It didn’t feel enough and she tried to focus on Brandon, but she couldn’t and he recognized her preoccupation.

  Her protruding belly was more prominent now and everyone now knew she was expecting. She tried to focus on the progression of her pregnancy and the fact that her baby would need a father.

  There was a sharp knock at her door after Brandon had dropped her off and she went to the door expecting to see him there.

  “Did you forget…?”

  The words died on her lips when she saw who it was.

  “Abram,” she released on a short whisper as she took him in. She felt the warmth spread throughout her body and lodge in her cheeks, making them rosy as butterflies skittered over each other in her chest.

  “May I come in?” he asked cautiously. She moved aside and allowed him in.

  As soon as he crossed the threshold and she closed the door he revealed all that was in his heart.

  “I know I promised I’d leave you alone, but I can’t. Not without telling you what is in my heart. Since the first time I saw you, Emma, I was smitten by you. Your smile brightens my world and your eyes they are so clear I feel like they see all the way into my soul. I did not come here to find love, but I love you,” he finished while holding her hands in his.

  Emma was taken aback by his declaration and could not find the words to say. Her tongue wouldn’t uncleave from the roof of her mouth.

  “Please, say something,” he begged earnestly. When she still said nothing, he reached down and touched his warm lips to hers. It sent a shock of electricity from her lips that ran throughout her body, bringing it to life. She began to respond to the feel of his lips and when she moaned in satisfaction his tongue found its way into her mouth, tasting, caressing. When it ended they were both gasping for air.

  “I can’t betray Brandon like this,” she finally said when her voice came back.

  “You can’t or you won’t?” he asked against her temple.

  “You don’t understand…” she started, but was interrupted.

  “You love me Emma, I know it,” he affirmed. “That’s why you’re so afraid to let me in; it’s why you would rather marry Brandon. It’s okay to love again, Emma,” he implored her and she dislodged herself from his embrace as his words scorched her revealing her deepest fears. She didn’t want to love again. She didn’t want to relinquish the love she held for Josef, not for anyone.

  “You need to leave,” she told him as she opened the door for him to go.

  “I will go, Emma, but you know I’m right. When you’re ready to accept the truth that you love me, I will be waiting.” With that he walked out and Emma, braced against the door, broke down in tears.

  For the next week she saw no sign of Abram but Brandon visited her twice. His presence, however, only made her more tormented as he kept implying that he would be asking for her hand in marriage soon. Even Elsie had seen her distress and tried to comfort her. She told her what was distressing her and she surprisingly gave her sound advice. If she wanted Abram, then it was her choice. No one could make that decision for her.

  The moment of truth came one evening when her sister quickly rushed over to her house to inform her that Michael, Abram, and a few other men were stuck in a lightning storm out in the forested area east of their community. They had gone to cut wood when a violent storm trapped them in the forest.

  Emma’s heart plummeted to the bottom of her chest when she realized that she could lose Abram forever. The thought left her panicking. She didn’t know what she would do if he died. She now realized that she loved him very much. He was what she wanted more than anything.

  “Let us pray for their safe return,” Elsie offered. For the first time in months Emma found herself praying earnestly for the safe return of all who were stuck in the forest. She prayed for God’s favor to be up on Abram and that He would bring him back to her.

  There was a knock on the door and Emma quickly flew to answer it, hopeful that it would be Abram. Her face quickly fell when she realized that is wasn’t him.

  Brandon saw her countenance fall and he rushed to her.

  “What is it, Emma?” he asked, concerned.

  “It’s Abram!” she blurted out without hesitation.

  He noted the alarm on her face and realized something bad must have happened.

  “What about him?” he asked carefully.

  “He, Michael and some other men are caught in the storm out by the forest bordering the east of town,” she relayed to him. “I don’t know what to do,” she cried in anguish and in that moment Brandon realized that her heart was not with him.

  “Don’t worry, Emma,” he patted her hand reassuringly. “I am sure they are fine; nothing bad will happen.” She continued to look afflicted and he could see the tears glistening in her wet eyes. “Shall we pray?” he asked before leading her to the kitchen where Elsie was. The three sat and prayed earnestly for the safe return of the men.

  “Can you take a walk with me, Emma?” Brandon asked. She hesitated as she didn’t want to go too far in case there was any news. As if he was reading her thoughts he replied, “We won’t go far. Just to the back of the property.”

  After hugging Elsie, she walked with Brandon through the dirt path that led to the outskirts of her farm. It would be dark soon. As the final remnants of the setting sun vanished over the distance, tinges of dusty purple scattered the sky and intermingled with the orange hue that blanketed the sky. At any other time she would have stopped to take in the picturesque scene before her but she was too much on edge and her frayed mind was on one thing only.

  “How can one compete with love?” Brandon suddenly asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, looking at him under the twilight sky that made his skin appear much paler than it was. He continued to look out towards the horizon as if contemplating his response.

  “How can I compete with your love for Abram?” he finally responded. She was caught off guard by his question and she guiltily hung her head and the weighty implications of his words.

  “I guess I realized from the first time I saw you with him that you were more drawn to him than to me, but I simply wanted you for myself so I ignored the signs,” he continued in a grave but conversational tone.
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  “I’m sorry, Brandon,” she began to apologize, but he cut her off.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Emma,” he replied taking her hands into his own and staring at her. “I want you to be happy and if that is not with me I can accept it. I am would never dream of standing in your way of happiness. That is not how we do it back in Ohio.” He smiled at her before he finished, “The right man has won. Be happy, Emma.” He kissed her cheek before walking off, leaving her alone on the path.

  Before he disappeared he turned and shouted. “Don’t worry, he will be okay!”

  Turning her face towards the sky of colors she offered up another earnest prayer. “Please let him be okay, God,” she pleaded before heading inside.

  As soon as she stepped into the kitchen she heard the beating of hooves coming up the dirt path. She and Elsie exchanged anxious looks before heading for the front door. As they stood on the front porch, the buggy rolled to a stop at her gate and two men from the vehicle came through the gate towards them.

  Elsie was the first to run down the steps and fling herself in her husband’s arms, all the while crying and raining kisses all over his face. The other man continued towards where Emma stood on the porch and she felt the hot splash of tears against her cheek. Soon he was facing her and she could still make out his brown eyes that were darker and more intense under the limited lighting.

  Without thinking she flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest as the tears flowed freely.

  “I thought I lost you,” she sobbed as Abram ran a soothing hand along her back.

  “I told you I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against her hair and it sent a shiver up her spine.

  Pulling away from him, she looked him in the eyes as she bared her soul to him. “I love you Abram; I tried to fight it but I can’t any longer and when I thought I lost you I almost stopped breathing,” she confessed. “I never loved a man before Josef, but I realize that I can open my heart to love again and I choose to love you,” she finished.

  Without a word he leaned down and captured her lips with his. It was a sweet kiss, one that promised lots more to come.

  “I love you, Emma,” he whispered against her lips as his hand securely rested against the prominent bump. Suddenly there was a small stir in her tummy and he looked down in amazement.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked amazed. She laughed at him.

  “It means that he loves you too,” she affirmed and he scooped her into his arms.

  “Marry me, Emma Lengacher,” he requested.

  Without hesitation she replied, “Yes, Abram Graber. I thought you would never ask.” They both laughed.

  THE END

  Book IV

  Mary Of The Amish

  “Hands build houses, love builds homes.”

  - Amish saying

  “Mary, there is something…”

  Cough, cough.

  “That I need to tell you.”

  “What is it, mom?” Mary asked in a strained voice as she watched the frail woman who was slowly slipping away and out of her life.

  She looked in anguish as her mother’s breathing became more labored. Her feeble hands that lay on top of the covers barely opened and closed in an attempt to alleviate the stiffness of her limbs. She forced herself to keep the tears at bay as she didn’t want her mother to be saddened even further. She smiled lovingly, encouragingly, as she waited for her to continue.

  “I, I know…” she started and stopped to catch her breath. “I should have told you this a long time ago, but now it is necessary that you know.”

  Mary’s heart leaped with anticipation of what could be so important to have her mother looking so anxious and making so much effort to speak.

  “Mary, my sweet baby, please don’t hate me for not telling you.”

  She sat waiting by her mother’s bedside, not sure what to make of her sudden look of remorse and the words that reflected that.

  “I’m not your mother.”

  Mary’s heart rammed against her chest as she tried to wrap her mind around the revelation.

  “What?” she whispered disbelievingly.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I am not your biological mother. I wish it weren’t so, I’ve prayed so much for it to not be so but there is no way to escape it,” her mother spoke as a lone tear slipped from her eye and ran down her pallid cheek.

  “No, this can’t be true,” Mary returned, shaking her head in disbelief. “Mom,” she choked over the emotion bubbling in her throat. “Say this isn’t true.”

  Her mother reached up a feeble hand and brushed it gently against her cheek. Even that simple act was strenuous for her and her hand dropped to her side shortly after.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this, Mary,” she spoke after some time of silence and labored breathing.

  Mary decided at that moment that none of what her mom had just revealed mattered to her. She was in pain, but she knew that her mother had done everything in her power to protect her and she suspected this was one of those things.

  “It’s okay, mom, you don’t have to explain. It doesn’t even matter. You’re my mother – the only mother I’ve ever known.”

  This caused a small smile to crease her mother’s thin lips.

  “I love you, Mary,” she spoke lovingly.

  “I know, I love you too mom,” Mary returned.

  Mary reached out her hand and held her mother’s as she slowly slipped into the sleep zone. She remained by her mother’s side, watching the slight rise and fall of her chest that indicated how close she was to her last. She then turned her gaze to the small monitor with green lines moving in an up and down motion across the screen. This represented her mother’s life and the moment it became a flat line running across the screen its meaning would be clear.

  That moment came two hours later while Mary dozed by her mother’s side, her head resting close to her leg. As if an alarm had gone off in her head, she looked up just in time to see her mother take in her final breath of air before releasing it. Then there was nothing but the loud beeping of the machine and the flat line running across the screen.

  The doctor and nurses came in a few seconds later. After a few attempts to revive her, they made the pronouncement.

  “Time of death?” the doctor asked the nurse, who was currently standing above her mother.

  “2:30 am, Doctor,” she replied.

  Mary felt dull. All feelings and emotions were drained – she felt nothing but drained. Without warning, she collapsed and sank to the floor.

  When she woke up, she was looking at a ceiling. Confused, she eased herself up and placed her feet over the side of the hospital bed. She tried to organize the thoughts in her befuddled brain, but all she came up with was a splitting headache that caused her eyes to pain her.

  “Oh, Miss Smith, you’re awake,” came the cautious voice of a nurse who had just entered the room.

  “Why am I here?” she asked, foregoing the pleasantries.

  “You fainted from exhaustion so we moved you to this room to get some rest,” the nurse replied cautiously.

  “But why…”

  Her voice trailed off as she remembered what happened. It felt like she had been sucker punched in the gut as the pain overcame her and she released a strangled sob. Her mother was dead.

  Mary watched as they lowered the casket into the ground. The preacher’s monotonous voice droned on as he committed the body. She had gotten over the initial pain she felt as she knew her mother was in a better place; somewhere where there was no more pain and suffering.

  After the service, the few persons who had showed up dispersed and went their separate ways. She stayed by the burial site for more than an hour, just sitting. It felt weird to go back to the house they had shared when her mother was alive. She didn’t want to be greeted by the silence – an indication that she was now all alone in the world. With effort, she compelled herself to walk away from the grave.

  When
she got to the house she immediately bypassed the living room that held so many good memories of her childhood with her mother. She went to her room and locked the door as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally made their appearance. When she was finally able to turn off the tap, she sat up in bed. She headed for her wardrobe to change when her eyes suddenly fell on the chest where she kept photos and other memorabilia of her and her mother.

  She reached for the chest and noticed that a letter now lay in the position where the chest was. It was addressed to her.

  Mary,

  If you’re reading this then it means that I am probably dead. I know this will be the hardest thing I will ever have to tell you but I also know that it is the right thing to do. I have had you since the day you were born but you are not mine – biologically at least. I believe you were a gift from God who saw me in my need and knew that I needed someone that I could call my own. You are mine in every sense of the word but I know I should tell you about your birth parents so that you can get closure.

  You were born to Elizabeth Schrock. She was a young Amish girl who ran away from Faith’s Creek Pennsylvania to have you. Your father was from New York. He was passing through their community and Elizabeth fell in love with him. When it was time for him to leave, he asked her to come with him but she couldn’t leave her home. When he left she found out that she was pregnant. Her parents were furious and ordered her to leave the community and to never come back.

  I found Elizabeth when she was about six months pregnant. She was living at the shelter where I volunteered from time to time. When she told me her story, my heart went out to her and I offered her a place in my home. I could see that she loved you very much even before you were born but she was torn. She missed her family but she knew she could never take you with her if she returned.

  I offered to take you as my own and she agreed. However, when you were born, she cried so much that I felt guilty about taking you but I knew if I didn’t she would probably end up giving you to someone else and I couldn’t bear the thought of you ending up with someone else.