A Mother by Christmas
Nursing a broken heart, Amanda Porter had answered a frontier mail-order bride ad placed by Garrett Decker’s children—only to find the groom-to-be didn’t want a wife. The widowed bachelor she hoped to marry does need a housekeeper, though, and taking the job is Amanda’s only option. But his adorable children are determined she’ll be their mother by Christmas...
His wife’s betrayal and tragic death demolished Garrett’s life. Now he can’t even look at another woman, let alone marry Amanda, who resembles his first love. Even if she does make his house feel like a home, filling it again with laughter and his children’s smiles. But with his daughter convinced Amanda is the perfect mother, will Garrett realize she’s also his perfect match?
“Are you all right? Is anything broken?”
His warm hand slid over her cheeks, and the awkward disaster turned into something else entirely.
This time when she opened her eyes, she saw clearly. What she saw took her breath away.
Garrett was gazing into her eyes with compassion. The fall had dislodged his cap and ruffled his auburn hair. His cheeks burned bright from the cold, but his concern was only for her. His thumb whispered over her lips, and she trembled at the gentleness of his touch.
“Do they hurt?” His low voice rumbled through her like none other.
“No,” she managed to breathe out.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
Oh, to be able to say yes and feel that touch again. Instead, she had to shake her head.
He breathed out in relief, but he did not draw away.
She could not stop looking into those soft gray-blue eyes. His mouth was so close. She could feel his breath on her lips. Oh, my.
Was he going to kiss her?
A small-town girl, Christine Johnson has lived in every corner of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. She enjoys creating stories that bring history to life while exploring the characters’ spiritual journeys. Though Michigan is still her home base, she and her seafaring husband also spend time exploring the Florida Keys and other fascinating locations. You can contact her through her website at christineelizabethjohnson.com.
Books by Christine Johnson
Love Inspired Historical
Boom Town Brides
Mail Order Mix-Up
Mail Order Mommy
The Dressmaker’s Daughters
Groom by Design
Suitor by Design
Love by Design
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CHRISTINE JOHNSON
Mail Order Mommy
And their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.
—Hebrews 10:17
For my SewTogether quilting friends past and present. Our time together with needle and thread brings this writer much joy.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Negotiated Marriage by Christina Rich
Chapter One
December 2, 1870
Amanda Porter had made her decision, and there was no going back on it now.
She had sent the letter off on the mail boat at first light. Before she’d left the dock the crew had cast off lines, and the boat now steamed out the river on its way to Chicago.
The early morning breeze off Lake Michigan stung her cheeks on the walk back to the boardinghouse and made her pull her coat a little tighter. A dusting of snow had fallen overnight. The boardwalks across the soft sand shimmered in the first gleams of sunlight, but she could think only of the painful future that awaited her.
It would take at least two weeks for that letter to travel to New York City and a response to return to this Michigan lumber town. Singapore. The name had sounded exotic when she’d agreed to join her friend Pearl four months ago. Truthfully, she would have done anything to leave the Chatsworths’ house and the scene of her humiliation.
She had banked everything on that advertisement for a wife that Pearl had found: “Widower with handsome inheritance seeks wife in booming town soon to rival Chicago. Well-furnished, comfortable house. Inquire at mercantile for Mr. Garrett Decker. Singapore, Michigan.”
In Singapore, Amanda had expected to begin anew with someone to love and care for. The past could be forgotten in a bright new future, but it had all proved to be a trick. Garrett Decker did not want to marry. He claimed he’d never placed the advertisement. His children had sent it to the newspaper, because they wanted a new mother. That ought to have changed his mind, but he refused to consider marrying Amanda or one of the other two ladies who’d answered the advertisement. That wasn’t the only discrepancy. Located near the mouth of the Kalamazoo River, Singapore was tiny and in no way rivaled bustling Chicago. It boasted just one hotel, one boardinghouse and no church building. Sand constantly drifted off the dunes and onto the streets and boardwalks. Garrett Decker had no inheritance, handsome or not. Once again she’d been misled by a man.
That’s why she had to return to the only place that would accept her, albeit as a maid rather than a daughter. That, and Pearl’s upcoming wedding. Three and a half weeks were just enough time to finish the wedding dress planned for the special event. Amanda would see her friend married and settled. Then she would depart.
Pearl would not be pleased with the decision, but it couldn’t be helped. Since Garrett refused to marry and no other prospects loomed, Amanda must take charge of her life.
She pulled open the back door of the boardinghouse and stomped the snow and sand off her shoes before venturing into the steamy kitchen. The heat made her yank off her mittens and unbutton her coat in a hurry. She unpinned her plum-colored hat, which did nothing to shield her from the cold, and shoved the outerwear onto a hook in the butler’s pantry.
Platters of ham and poached eggs waited on the stove’s warming shelf, while the teakettle whistled. Since no one was around, she took the kettle off the heat before it boiled dry.
“Miss Amanda, what are you doing out so early on a Saturday morning?” Mrs. Calloway, the boardinghouse owner, breezed into the kitchen and grabbed a tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven.
“I saw the mail boat was in and wanted to post a letter.”
“Oh, my, I should have had you take the boardinghouse mail.”
“I took it.”
“You’re such a fine girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The boardinghouse proprietress whirled out of the kitchen just as quickly as she’d come in.
Amanda donned one of the
aprons that Mrs. Calloway kept in a cupboard and lifted the tray of ham off the stove. Meals were served in a specific order. This time of year, those items that could be eaten cold were served before those that must remain hot. Even with the stoves blazing hot, many of the public rooms remained cool. The bedrooms were icy.
Upon entering the dining room, she found four seated at the table: Pearl, Fiona O’Keefe and two sawmill workers, whose presence reminded her that she’d missed a chance last month to locate her lost brother. Fiona was one of the other ladies who had answered Garrett Decker’s advertisement, and was from all appearances his current favorite. She sat with him at church, and he had attended some of her music recitals on Saturdays. Fiona’s smile grated on Amanda, so she concentrated on her friend, who looked ready to lecture the men for shoving the warm rolls into their mouths without the slightest regard for manners.
“Good morning.” Amanda set the ham on the table, and the men dug into that next.
Pearl shifted her attention to Amanda. “There you are. I wondered where you went so early. Mrs. Calloway said the mail boat is in.”
Naturally, Mrs. Calloway had passed along that bit of information. For all her lovely, good-hearted qualities, the boardinghouse proprietress couldn’t keep the tiniest scrap of information to herself.
“They’ve left already,” Amanda said. “The captain fears a storm is on its way.”
“A storm?” Fiona sipped tea from a porcelain teacup, three fingers daintily extended. “There’s not a cloud in the sky.”
“I suppose we will know in time.” Amanda found it easier to agree with Fiona than to get into a debate. The redhead refused to budge from a single opinion. “Anyway, the mail has arrived. Roland said it’ll be sorted by midmorning.”
Pearl smiled at the mention of her fiancé, who also happened to be Garrett Decker’s brother. When they’d first met Roland aboard the ship from Chicago, there’d been a terrible mix-up about the brothers. All three women answering the advertisement thought Roland was the man seeking a wife. Once they arrived in Singapore, the misunderstanding got sorted out. Pearl fell in love with Roland, and Amanda had managed to catch Garrett’s attention through his adorable children. But after last month’s fire, everything changed.
Fiona slid the pastry server under one of the cinnamon rolls that the men hadn’t gobbled up. “I’m expecting my manager to send word of a role in a new production at Niblo’s Garden.”
“I hope you get the part.” Amanda clapped her mouth shut. Though a booking at the popular theater would be a huge step in Fiona’s career, Amanda had said that a bit too eagerly.
Fiona noticed. “Want me gone, do you? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m this close to coming to an understanding with Garrett.” She held her thumb and index finger a fraction of an inch apart.
Amanda’s spirits sank. She had no idea Garrett was that close to proposing to Fiona. She swallowed tears of frustration. Everything had gone wrong here. Everything. It was best she’d decided to leave.
Pearl, on the other hand, set into Fiona with the tenacity of a guard dog. “Then why hasn’t Roland heard anything about this? As his brother, he should know.”
“Since when do brothers discuss romance?” Fiona brushed back a red curl that had slipped over her shoulder. “Garrett is a quiet, brooding sort. He requires a lively, vivacious woman to counter his natural disposition.”
Amanda edged toward the doorway. She would rather fetch the eggs than listen to one more confirmation that she’d lost all opportunity to win over Garrett Decker. Before she could slip away, Pearl’s teacher’s glare froze her in place.
Pearl returned her attention to the elegant redhead. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
Fiona’s brow furrowed. “Disappointed? Why should I be disappointed?”
“A star of the New York stage could never be happy in a lumber town. She must return to the theater at the beckoning of her adoring fans. Garrett doesn’t strike me as a man who cares for the big city.”
That brought to mind the one thing about Fiona O’Keefe that had perplexed Amanda since they first met. If Fiona was such a star, why would she leave New York to answer a mail-order bride advertisement? It made no sense.
Fiona smiled coyly. “A man will do almost anything for the woman he loves.”
Then Fiona is certain. Amanda pressed a hand to her midsection. Her last shreds of hope were rapidly disappearing.
“He will not go against his nature,” Pearl insisted.
Amanda could not picture Garrett in evening attire and top hat. Roland, yes. Garrett, never. Not for the first time she marveled at how different the two brothers were. Roland was tall and suave, always dressed in style. The shorter and more powerful Garrett preferred workingman’s clothes. His auburn hair was in direct contrast to Roland’s dark locks. They barely looked like brothers, though they certainly acted that way, often in playful competition.
Mrs. Calloway entered with the eggs. “Sit, Miss Amanda. Breakfast is served.”
Amanda did not feel like a guest, especially given the uncomfortable reality that she had a room here only by the charity of Pearl, who paid the cost of the room from her wages as a teacher, and the Calloways, who gave Amanda board in exchange for housekeeping. She could not ask the Calloways to let her stay free of charge once Pearl wed and moved on. Since Amanda had but one dime left to her name and no paying employment, she’d written her foster family asking for a service position in their household.
Under those circumstances, she should eat in the kitchen, but she’d learned from experience that Mrs. Calloway wouldn’t tolerate it. Even when Amanda explained that she’d always eaten in the kitchen at her foster family’s house, the boardinghouse proprietress shooed her from the room.
Mrs. Calloway set the eggs in front of the ladies and disappeared.
Amanda had barely taken her seat, prayed over the meal with Pearl and Fiona, and dished up one poached egg and the smallest slice of ham when a forceful knock sounded on the front door. Everyone stopped eating and looked up.
“Who could that be at this hour?” Pearl mused.
The women looked to the men, who both shook their heads.
“Perhaps a visitor came in on the mail boat,” Amanda suggested. If only it could be her long-lost brother, but the lumberjack who fit his description had reportedly left the area for work further north.
“More likely it’s your fiancé,” Fiona said to Pearl.
Amanda noticed a burst of color infuse her friend’s cheeks and a sparkle light her eyes. She dearly hoped Fiona was right, but fear niggled at the back of her mind. What if Garrett had come to propose to Fiona? What if it was an unwelcome caller like Hugh Bellchamp? Surely he would not follow her here from New York. She had told no one where she was going, just that she had left to marry someone on the “frontier.”
She set down her fork, unable to eat.
“It wouldn’t be Roland,” Pearl noted. “He would be busy with the mail and any merchandise for the store that came in on the mail boat.”
A knock sounded again.
“I don’t think Mrs. Calloway heard it.” Pearl began to rise.
Amanda set aside her napkin. “I’ll get it.”
“Sit down, girls.” Mrs. Calloway bustled past. “I’m on my way.”
That left the five of them in silence. The men shoveled food into their mouths. The ladies ate quietly, listening for a clue as to who had paid a call. Amanda picked at the food, unable to stomach one bite.
The dining room was situated fairly close to the front door. Given the force of the knock, Amanda expected to hear the caller’s voice. For the longest time, she heard nothing. She looked to Pearl, who shook her head. Even Fiona hadn’t heard a thing, and her hearing was more attuned to the softest nuances than theirs. For long minutes, only the clink of forks on china
serenaded them. Then Mrs. Calloway’s booming voice broke the quiet.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” The man’s irritated voice was unmistakable. Garrett.
Amanda stared at the poached egg, its yolk spilling onto the plate. Who had he come to see? Her or Fiona? Or was he here about something that had happened at the mill? She looked to the men, who didn’t appear to care that their supervisor was at the door.
“Well, then, take a seat in the parlor,” Mrs. Calloway said. “I’ll ask her to join you.”
Her?
Amanda’s nerves tensed as the ladies looked at each other. Amanda held her breath, hoping against hope. Let it be for me. Please, let Garrett be here for me.
Mrs. Calloway’s footsteps drew near. A second later she poked her head into the dining room. “Miss Fiona, you have a caller.”
Amanda’s hand trembled so much that she had to set down her fork. Her ears began to ring. She drew another deep breath and pressed a cool hand to her throat. Pearl shook her head, as if to say it couldn’t possibly be what she feared, but Fiona had just said that Garrett was ready to propose.
Fiona smiled triumphantly. “Tell Garrett that I will join him in a moment.”
Dread wove around Amanda’s heart. She raised the teacup to her lips, but the tea tasted like wash water. With a trembling hand, she set the cup down.
Fiona checked her hair to make sure it was in place, while Mrs. Calloway headed back in the direction of the parlor.
Amanda choked out, “You’re not going to meet him at once?”
“A gentleman ought not call at this hour. He can wait a moment or two.” Fiona inclined her head toward Amanda. “It’s best to let them know that you are in control.”
Amanda was far from in control. At any moment she might faint dead away.
At last Fiona dabbed at her mouth with the napkin. The moment she made a move to get out of her chair, the man seated closest to her hopped up to help her from the table. Amanda’s heart sank even further. Fiona had a way of attracting every man’s attention, while she only attracted the wrong sort.
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