The Holiday Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book 9)

by Kit Morgan

  She gave him a single nod then allowed him to help her put it on. The coat fit perfectly. “How do I look?”

  “Like a snow princess,” said Garrett.

  Ammy thought she heard Daisy giggle at his remark, but she was too busy staring at him. “Princess?”

  He grinned. “Well, you don't look old enough to be a queen, and I'm hardly a king. So princess fits, and so does the coat.”

  “Does that make you Prince Vander; I mean, Garrett?”

  “Prince Garrett,” he said with a regal tone. “I rather like the sound of that.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Don't get too used to it.” She turned her attention to Ammy. “Would you like to try on the other two, or take this one?”

  Ammy glanced to the other coats in Daisy’s arms. They were pretty, but she didn't want to waste too much of Garrett's time. Besides, the ivory would go with anything. “This one will do fine.”

  “All right,” said Daisy as she put the other two coats up. Ammy started to take the ivory coat off. “Oh, no,” said Daisy. “Don't do that. You should wear it. It’s cold outside and you can carry your shawl back to… the boarding house?” she asked and looked at Garrett.

  “For now,” he told her.

  Ammy swallowed hard. She still didn't like the idea she was part of a business deal, but then, she had to marry. It was for her own protection, not to mention her father's. “Thank you,” she said. “I think I will wear it.”

  “Is Morgan in the back?” Garrett asked Daisy.

  “Yes, he's in the storeroom doing inventory if you'd like to speak to him.”

  “You don't mind do you?” he asked Ammy. “Besides, I'm sure I won't be much help in picking out your things, and you probably don't want me around while you're doing so.”

  Ammy blushed. “Go ahead.”

  He tipped his hat to her then strolled across the mercantile and disappeared down a hall.

  “Now, let me see,” began Daisy. “What else do you need?”

  Ammy let out a weary sigh. “Everything, if you really want to know. I left New Orleans with very little.”

  “New Orleans?” Daisy gasped. “That's where I'm from.”

  “Really? What brought you out west… oh, wait a minute, you were a mail-order bride!”

  “Yes, and now happily married.”

  “Your husband mentioned yesterday that was the case.”

  Daisy smiled. “He told me he had.” She craned her neck and peered in the direction of the hall, then gave her attention back to Ammy. “Look, I know you and Garrett got off to a rough start yesterday. Even if Morgan hadn't seen some of it, I still would've heard from others. I got off to a rough start too. Morgan's mother sent for me. He didn't have a clue.”

  “So I heard. But was he as adamant about not marrying you as Garrett has been with me?”

  “At first, but then we got to know each other. But Garrett wants to marry you now, doesn't he?”

  Ammy didn't know how much she could tell her, or if she should. “Garrett Vander is a practical man,” she offered.

  “Practical? Yes, now that you mention it, I suppose he is. But he's also a romantic at heart.”

  Ammy’s eyes widened. “He is?”

  “Yes, that I do know about him. And he'd love to have a lot of children.”

  “Oh…”

  “You do want children, don't you?”

  “Yes, someday.”

  “Well, one thing you’ll learn about Garrett is that he longs for a family of his own. He just gets things in his head and thinks they should go a certain way, and when they don't… Well, who likes to have their plans interrupted?”

  “Indeed,” said Ammy. Reginald Van Cleet had interrupted hers. She had a nice life in Boston, and now here she was in Independence, Oregon as a mail-order bride to a man who didn't want her in the first place, and all in order to escape a man who was obsessed with her. “I could use a comb.”

  “I have some lovely ribbons as well.”

  Ammy nodded. It was hard to think at the moment, even if all she had to do was decide on a few necessities. “Some tooth-powder would do.”

  “I'll fetch it while you pick out some ribbons and a comb. Can you think of anything else?”

  Ammy shook her head. She couldn't think at all.

  “Do you need a dress?” Daisy asked.

  “Ammy stared at her. “I suppose I do.”

  “I have a few ready-made if you'd like to see them. Day dresses.”

  “All right.”

  Daisy took a comb from a small basket on a shelf and a handful of ribbons, then put them on the counter. She then went back to where she kept the coats. Hanging next to them, were several dresses. “Why don't you take a look at these while I get together a few things? Then you can decide if you want them or not.”

  “All right,” said Ammy as she stepped to the rack of clothes.

  “You know,” began Daisy. “If you don't mind my saying so, you don't look very happy to be getting married.”

  Ammy closed her eyes and bowed her head. She was tired, incredibly so, and hadn’t realized how much until just now. Their escape from Boston, the harrowing few days they had in New Orleans. Not to mention wondering if someone was going to break down the door of the hotel room at any moment. It was all too much. Ammy’s shoulders shook as her tears began to fall.

  “I'm sorry if I've upset you,” Daisy said in a rush as she put her arms around her.

  Ammy tried to pull away but the girl wouldn't let go. “It's nothing,” she said and took out a handkerchief from her reticule. She dabbed her eyes with it. “I'll be fine.”

  “No, you won't,” said Daisy. “Trust me, I know. I've been where you are right now. It's an awful feeling to know the man you came to marry hasn't any interest in you. One would think that as a mail-order bride it wouldn't matter. But it does, especially after you spend the long journey thinking about husbands and houses and babies.” She came around and stood in front of Ammy. “Am I right?”

  Of course she was. Ammy thought of every last one of those things on the journey west, and in vivid detail. She nodded and blew her nose. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Don't worry,” said Daisy. “And don't be afraid. Garrett will stand by his decision to marry you no matter what the reason. I'm sure you’ll come to love him in time.”

  “Yes, in time,” Ammy agreed. She hoped that it was true.

  * * *

  “I wonder if other mothers conspire against their sons the way ours do,” said Garrett as he watched Morgan stack some crates.

  “Your mother had nothing to do with this. Mine was the one that conspired against my bachelorhood.”

  “Yes, that's still an unsolved mystery. Who sent for Miss Winters?”

  “You may never know,” said Morgan. “But at least she's here, and very beautiful I might add.”

  Garrett drummed his fingers on a barrel. “I'm going to marry her.”

  “I know.”

  “Yes, so I've heard. Was it my mother or your mother that told you?

  “Yours, of course,” chuckled Morgan as he came to stand on the other side of the barrel. “I could hear their squeals of delight and triumph from back here.”

  Garrett rubbed his face with one hand. “Good grief. Will they ever stop?”

  “Never. As soon as Julian's married off, then they’ll want us to give them grandchildren. That way they'll have a whole new batch of folks to marry off.”

  Garrett smiled. “They’ll probably marry your children off to mine and some off to Julian's as well.”

  “Yes, as you plan on a large brood. Myself, I'll be happy with just one or two.” He looked at Garrett, his face serious. “Are you marrying her because you really want to? Or because your father said so?”

  “I don't know,” Garrett said with a sigh. “I still have the final say.”

  “Of course you do, you're a grown man now. Your parents can't force you. It's not like your father needs the money.”


  “Money?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I figured money had to be involved somewhere.”

  “As usual, you’re right. Mr. Winters offered some sort of dowry. But that's not what has my father worked up. Apparently Cecil Winters has a large company back east. You know how my father has always wanted to be a big businessman. Well, I guess this is his chance to do so from afar.”

  Morgan's brow puckered in confusion. “What's a big businessman from back east doing out west with his daughter?”

  “Maybe he's overprotective,” suggested Garrett.

  “Enough to come all this way to see her wed?”

  Garrett stared at him a moment. “Stranger things have happened. Yet …you don’t think he's in some kind of trouble?”

  “I can't say, but being a businessman myself, I know how hard it is for me to leave the mercantile for a day or two. If he's got some big business back east, how is he able to leave it for so long to come here?”

  Garrett's eyes widened. “You're right. How is he able to afford the time to be here? Not to mention the time it takes to travel back.”

  “Sounds fishy to me,” said Morgan. “I think you might want to check this out further before you commit to marrying his daughter, even if she is gorgeous.”

  Garrett's mouth curved up in a tiny smile. “That she is.”

  “From all outward appearances she looks like she’d make you a fine wife, my friend.”

  “Yes, outward appearances. But what else is there?”

  “I think you should take the time to find out like I did with Daisy.”

  “I'd like to, but her father and my father seem determined to marry us off at the soonest possible opportunity.”

  “Why? What's the rush?”

  Garrett looked at him and pondered. Morgan was right. What was the rush? Something else must be going on. “I think I’ll have a talk with Cecil Winters before I commit to anything.”

  “I agree,” said Morgan. “If he's hiding something, you need to find out. For all you know the law’s after him and he’s using his daughter as a shield of sorts.”

  Garrett stiffened. “What?”

  “You never know,” said Morgan. “Maybe he's in some kind of trouble.”

  Garrett’s gut twisted with the thought, and he knew, knew Morgan was right. Cecil Winters was in trouble. But did that mean Ammy was as well? Or was she an innocent bystander of her father's misdeeds? “I'll speak with him and let him know I’ll not marry his daughter until he comes clean.”

  “Providing he's dirty in the first place, of course,” said Morgan. “I could be wrong.”

  Garrett shook his head. “No, my friend, I think you're right.”

  * * *

  By the time Ammy and Daisy had gathered what she needed, Garrett emerged from the back of the mercantile. He looked at the small pile of goods on the counter and smiled. “I see you ladies have been busy. Good. Wrap all that up for me, will you Daisy?”

  “Of course,” said Daisy with a smile. “Is there anything else?”

  Ammy shook her head. “Not that I can think of. This is enough for now.”

  Garrett stared at the pile of goods. There was a comb, a few ribbons, a dress, a scarf, and several items Daisy had already wrapped in brown paper. He turned to Ammy. “Are you hungry?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was overwhelmed and had tried to keep her purchases to a minimum. She'd never shopped for such items before. Her ladies maid had always done it for her. “A little.”

  “Good. I could use a spot of tea, and I know just where to get some.”

  Daisy gave him a quizzical look. “Where?”

  “Betsy.”

  Daisy laughed. “Oh, yes, of course.” She turned and looked at Ammy. “You are going to love Betsy.”

  “Who's Betsy?”

  Garrett gave her a wide smile. “Well, technically, she's my family’s maid. But she’s so much more.”

  “You can say that again!” laughed Daisy.

  Ammy gave them a small smile. “You have a maid?”

  “Of sorts,” said Garrett. “Come along and I'll introduce you.”

  They left the mercantile and told Daisy they’d come back to pick up Ammy’s things on their way to the boarding house. For some reason, Garrett wanted to show Ammy his home and realized he was trying to impress her. She seemed surprised when he mentioned that Betsy was the family maid. He felt a sense of pride knowing that they were the only family in town that had one.

  “Is this your house?” Ammy asked in astonishment when they reached his home.

  “Sure is,” he said with a smile and opened the gate. “Morgan and Daisy were married here on Thanksgiving. You should've seen it then, my mother and Betsy decorated everything for the occasion.”

  “What about now?”

  He raised a curious brow. “What about it?”

  “Christmas is coming. Do you have a tree?”

  “No, but I suspect we will very soon. Shall we go inside?”

  She nodded and followed him to the front door. They entered, and Ammy stopped just inside the door to take in the lovely foyer. Of course, the house was much smaller than her home in Boston, but for Independence, it was a mansion. “How lovely,” she said as she admired the paintings on the walls and beautiful staircase.

  “We think so,” said Garrett with a smile.

  A woman rushed into the foyer with a shotgun, wearing a maid's uniform. “Who's there?”

  Garrett put his hands up. “Betsy! It's me!” He said and moved in front of Ammy as a shield.

  Betsy lowered the shotgun. “Mr. Garrett! Just what do you think you're doing coming in through the front door without knocking?”

  Garrett turned and looked over his shoulder at Ammy. “Guests use the front door, family uses the back, its what she's used to.”

  Ammy covered her mouth to hide a smile, and studied the infamous Betsy. She was middle aged, of medium height and build, with blue eyes, and light brown hair. Her eyes held a knowing look, and Ammy got the impression that Betsy had no problem speaking her mind.

  “Betsy,” said Garrett. “I'd like to introduce you to Miss Winters.”

  Betsy's eyes widened. “So this is the mail-order bride I heard tell of?”

  “Yes,” said Garrett. “We'd like some tea, if you don't mind.”

  “I don't mind if you don't mind waiting a few minutes while I get it ready. You take this young lady into the parlor, Mr. Garrett, and I'll get right to it.”

  “Good idea, I'll do that.” He stepped aside and held out his arm. “May I escort you into the parlor, Miss Winters?”

  Ammy looked between the two and smiled again. “All right,” she said. “It's nice to meet you, Betsy.”

  Betsy grinned. “It sure is nice to meet you, Miss Winters.” She turned and went back down the hall.

  “You'll find Betsy has an interesting sense of humor,” said Garrett.

  “She also has an interesting way of speaking.”

  “Really?” asked Garrett. “How so?”

  “Well, if you don't mind my saying so, she sounds almost, I mean her accent…”

  “Accent? I've never really noticed an accent.”

  “You haven't? She sounds like she's from the South.”

  “That's because she is. At least I think so. She's been with us for years. In fact she acted as my governess for a time while I was growing up.”

  “Your governess? Where was she educated?”

  Garrett motioned to Ammy to sit. She took a wing chair and waited for his answer as he sat in its mate. “I don't really know, come to think of it. I never thought to ask.”

  “You don't know much about a maid that has been with you for years? Of course, I suppose that's your mother's job to know and not the young master of the house.”

  “I'll inquire. I've never thought about it.” He leaned toward her. “I'd like to ask you a few things as well.”

  “Things? Like what?”

  “Like why d
id your father come to Independence with you?”

  Seven

  Ammy stiffened at the question and hoped Garrett didn't notice. She still wasn't sure what sort of details her father had given Mayor Vander or Garrett. What to tell him? She offered him a warm smile as she stalled and tried to think of what to say next. “I am my father's only child,” she told him. She'd stick to the truth as much as possible. Garrett Vander didn't need to know all the reasons she and her father were in Independence. “As you are well aware, my father is a businessman from... back east.”

  “That much I know,” he said.

  Ammy gave him another smile, but she could tell he was waiting for an affirmative answer. Was he suspicious as to why she became a mail-order bride? “He owned a small shipping company and later joined forces with a larger one. The bigger was owned by two brothers; the Van Cleets. One of them, Cyrus, decided to leave and head out west about twenty years ago, or so I’m told. Father tells me he was the adventurous sort.”

  “I see,” said Garrett.

  Betsy entered with a tea tray and set it on a table between them. “Are you going to be a gentleman and serve the lady, Mr. Garrett? Or do I have to do it for you?” Ammy's eyes widened at the woman's boldness. None of the maids her father employed would dare ask such a thing.

  “I’ll pour, Betsy.”

  “Suit yourself, Mr. Garrett. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.” She turned and left.

  “Go on,” Garrett told her as he picked up the teapot and poured them each a cup.

  Ammy glanced between Garrett and Betsy’s retreating form. She shrugged off the maid’s behavior and continued. “As I was saying, the brother that remained was looking for business partners and approached my father. He suggested they merge companies.”

  “And now your father is here,” said Garrett. “He must find it very difficult to travel west and leave his company unattended.”

  Ammy froze. What to say? “If that were true, then how could he come west in the first place?”

  “So this other gentlemen, what did you say his name was? Van Cleet? He's running the company while your father’s away?”