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

by Kit Morgan

  She nodded in agreement. She really was starting to feel terrible, and wasn't looking forward to sleepless nights of watching and waiting to see if someone was going to grab her and drag her back to Boston. What would she do if that happened? What would her father do? Would he fight Reginald's men off? What if he… Heaven forbid, shot one of them? Reginald would add murder to his outlandish accusations of her father. Only this one wouldn't be so outlandish. She knew well her father would do whatever he could to protect her. After all, it was why he was in Independence.

  She and Garrett walked in silence to the boarding house, each lost in their own thoughts. Though she could bet Garrett’s were much more pleasant than hers. He was probably thinking of presenting her with flowers and candy while she was trying to figure out how to save her father's life, not to mention her own. She stole quick glances at Garrett as they strolled, and wished things were different. What she wouldn't give to be able to let the man court her as was proper. But she didn't have the time.

  “Are you sure you're going to be all right?” Garrett asked with concern as they reached the boarding house.

  “I just need to lie down. I hope I'm not spoiling your day.”

  “No, not at all,” he said as he took her hand. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles and smiled. “I want you to feel better. I don't like seeing you… well, you look distressed.”

  She gave him a weak smile. She couldn't exactly blurt out the fact that she was distressed or why. Announcing she was dealing with a madman who would stop nothing to hunt her down and retrieve her, (and possibly sent men to do just that) might put a damper on Garrett's romantic notions. Perhaps the solution would be to speed things up another way? What if she romanced Garrett? Would that in turn make him want to marry her any quicker? Hmmm, the idea had merit.

  “You go upstairs to your room and rest. I'll check on you later this evening.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  She smiled. Dinner with Garrett would give her a chance to get him moving to the altar. “Yes, I'd love to,” she said with a smile. She would have to, if she wanted to save her skin.

  “I’ll come by around, say, six o'clock?”

  “That would be lovely.” She rubbed her temple again. By now her head pounded like a blacksmith hammering on in anvil.

  Garrett raised her hand to his lips, and without taking his eyes from hers, gently kissed it. “Until tonight then,” he said, his voice husky.

  If Ammy didn't feel so bad, she'd have enjoyed his rapt attention. But as it was, she really did feel awful at this point and needed to lie down. She hoped that by the time he came to fetch her, she felt better. Otherwise how was she ever going to woo him?

  * * *

  “You're going to what?” asked Julian.

  “Court her. I told you as much the other day. Besides, it's the right thing to do.”

  “Garrett you didn’t use the word ‘court’ a few minutes ago. You said ‘romance’. They are entirely two different things.”

  “No they're not, they’re the same.”

  Julian shook his head and slid off the hay bale he’d planted himself on earlier. “They go hand-in-hand, yes. But they are not the same thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve obviously had your head stuck in too many law books the last few years. When you court a girl, that's spending time with her before getting married, right?”

  “Yes…”

  “Romancing a girl is what you're doing during that time spent, get it?”

  “It's all the same to me,” said Garrett as he hopped up on the same bale Julian had occupied. “I'll start with dinner tonight and move on to… let me see, perhaps a buggy ride through the countryside would be nice.”

  “Who's going to chaperone?”

  “Betsy of course, who else? She's perfect.”

  “Why not take your mother along?”

  Because my mother will talk Ammy’s ears off. It would be like you taking a woman for a romantic ride and having your mother along. Worse, it might be like having both our mothers along!”

  “Good point.”

  “No, Betsy is the best choice. She'll just sit there and make fun of us, which is fine by me. Ammy and I can then make fun of her.”

  Julian laughed. “Maybe when I'm courting a girl, Betsy can be my chaperone too.”

  “Have you given any thought to it? Especially now that I'm going to marry Miss Winters?”

  Julian sighed. “I don't know. First Morgan got married and now you. I guess I'm just not sure if I want to take the risk and do it the same way.”

  “You mean get a mail-order bride?”

  “You have to admit, there is a risk factor involved. You don't know what you're going to see get off that stage. You two were lucky.”

  Garrett sat silent for a moment. “I suppose you're right. Though I haven't tasted her cooking yet.”

  “No, but she’s still a beautiful girl, and from what you say, she’s sweet, kind, and most of the other things on your list of requirements.”

  “I did get lucky, didn’t I?”

  “Very. You know if you romance her, she’s going want to marry you right away. Then the romance will be over.”

  Garrett laughed. “Why does it have to stop once we’re married?”

  “I don't know. It doesn't I suppose. Just that the married folks I know don't look like there’s much spark there for each other.”

  “That's because they're too busy being married. Besides, who knows what goes on behind closed doors?”

  “Arrrrg,” Julian groaned. “Do you have to say that?”

  Garrett laughed. “Julian my friend, I think you need to get married.”

  “Not as bad as you do. But you're the charming one, remember? Morgan and I would have to court a girl longer to get her, but not you. You better slow that horse of love you’re riding down to a walk. Otherwise your bride will be tripping over herself to get to the altar. Make it last, enjoy it. I would if I were you.”

  “You do have a point. Maybe I will draw this out longer than I planned. Though it would be nice to be married by Christmas.”

  “What's the hurry?”

  Garrett thought on Julian's words. “You're right. There is no hurry. I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

  .

  * * *

  Ammy awoke from her nap feeling much better. She'd slept most of the afternoon away, and was surprised to see that she barely had time to change her dress before Garrett arrived. She thought she'd wear the other dress he purchased for her and let him enjoy his investment.

  Ammy stretched, yawned, and then got off the bed. She rubbed her arms as a chill hit her. She hadn’t covered herself while she napped. She quickly changed her clothes, ran a brush through her hair and put it up again. As she tugged and pulled on her locks, an image of Garrett brushing her hair flashed through her mind. What would it feel like to have a man's hands in her hair? More specifically, what would it feel like to have Garrett Vander’s? She blushed at the thought as she reached for the coat he’d bought her. She glanced at the purchases from the mercantile stacked upon the dresser. He seemed to have enjoyed buying what she needed, and it warmed her inside to know that he cared. He didn't have to get her any necessities, after all, at least not yet. But he’d done it anyway. She would have to think of a way to repay him. Or would she? If they were married it was only natural that he’d want to provide for her, wasn't hit? And hadn’t he told her as much? So why would she think to repay him? Unless…

  She still harbored the fear that he wasn't going to marry her. Or was it the other way around? Was there a part of her that didn't want to marry Garrett Vander? “Oh dear,” she said to herself. “But I do want to get married.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “What am I saying? I have to get married!”

  Ammy reached for the doorknob and stopped up short. “Oh my goodness…,” she breathed. What if Reginald'
s men came and took her even after she was married? What if they'd been instructed to force an annulment? “Oh good heavens!” she said as her hand went to her chest. “This means that I'll… that Garrett and I will… Oh my!” She would not only have to marry Garrett quickly in order to have the protection of his name. But she was going to have to consummate the marriage as well. Fast. “Merciful heavens.” She swallowed hard and blushed head to toe. How was she going to make that happen right away? Then again, perhaps she wouldn't have to worry about it. Weren’t men always the ones eager for the wedding night? But what does one do?

  Ammy rubbed one side of her head. She didn't want to think about it anymore. The last thing she needed tonight was another headache.

  “I’ll woo him tonight,” she told herself as she left her room. She could only think of one thing at a time. She'd worry about the rest later.

  Ammy went downstairs just as Garrett walked through the door. “Good evening,” he said as he took in her attire. “My, you look lovely.” His eyes raked over her and she felt herself blush again. The “job” she had to do came to mind and her blush deepened.

  “Well look at that,” said Garrett. “Your ears are positively pink!”

  Okay, so thinking about that didn't help. Ammy looked at him, her face crimson. “Shall we go?” she said in a rush.

  Garrett chuckled. “Did you forget something, run upstairs and just come down? Your face is as red as a tomato.”

  “No, nothing like that. I… was just hoping you liked my dress. Do you?”

  He took her coat from her and helped her put it on. “It's a shame to cover it up. You look beautiful in it Ammy. I'm glad you chose it.”

  This time, she blushed from his complement alone. Not that he could tell. Her face was still red as a beet. “Thank you.”

  He wrapped one of her arms around his, smiled, then led her outside. “I'm afraid Independence doesn't have anywhere to dine except the café. However, my parents are at a meeting at the courthouse so I thought we could have a nice quiet dinner at mine.”

  “Alone?”

  “Of course not. Betsy’s there.” He cleared his throat. “And… so is your father.”

  “My father?”

  “Yes. He and my father have come to yet another agreement of sorts, one that has nothing to do with the two of us getting married. Thank Heaven for that. If those two want to go into business together then I say let them handle it, and leave us out of their planning. I don't know how it all got wrapped up together in the first place.”

  Ammy's face grew redder, but thankfully, he couldn't see it. It was already dark outside. They chatted about little things on their walk to Garrett's house and Ammy discovered she enjoyed the sound of his voice. He didn't have a deep voice like some men she knew, or like that of his friend, Morgan Tindle. But it was pleasant and soothing, and she found herself asking silly little questions just so she could hear him talk. She wondered if she'd be doing it the rest of the evening. She also wondered what kind of a chaperone her father would make.

  They reached Garrett's house and went inside as Mrs. Vander came down the stairs. “Horace!” she called up the stairwell. “Garrett's back with Miss Winters. We can go now.”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Vander,” greeted Ammy.

  “Good evening, my dear. Now, you and Garrett enjoy a lovely dinner while Mr. Vander and I attend one of these silly city meetings. Of course, there's always goodies there to enjoy.”

  “Thank you, ma'am. I'm sure we will.”

  “And I'm sure I'll be bored to tears,” Mrs. Vander whispered as she glanced up the stairwell. “But don't tell Mr. Vander that.”

  Garrett laughed. “Why do you think father takes you with him? It's so he won't be bored to tears!”

  “What do you do at your meetings?” asked Ammy.

  “Nothing much, really. Of course Horace has to be there because he’s the mayor. Then there’s Pastor Adams, Jonathan Smythe, the sheriff and a few others. They're always talking about how we can make our little town grow, you see.”

  Ammy did see. It was no different than any other city except Independence was a lot smaller. But she supposed city government ran the same no matter where you were. “I hear my father is dining with Garrett and I tonight.”

  “Yes, it was Horace’s idea that he stay and have a bite with you. Otherwise he'd be eating all by himself. And besides, he can chaperone!”

  Just what Ammy needed; her father watching her while she tried to make advances toward Garrett to get him to the altar sooner. But then, he knew their plight. Maybe he'd help! She smiled at the thought.

  “Betsy will be around too, so you’ll be fine,” added Mrs. Vander as she fussed with her gloves.

  Mr. Vander came stomping down the stairs. “Mercy, where are all my handkerchiefs? I can't find a one!”

  Betsy appeared, a stack of folded, pressed, handkerchiefs in her hands. “Here you go, Mr. Vander.”

  “Oh, there you are, Betsy. I'm surprised these aren't already in my room.”

  “I was busy cooking dinner, sir, and forgot to bring them up.”

  “Well you needn’t trouble yourself now, unless you want to.” He snatched one off the pile and placed it in his jacket’s front pocket. “Shall we be off, my dear?” he asked Mercy.

  “We don't know when we’ll be home, Garrett,” said his mother. “So be sure you escort Miss Winters back to the boarding house, unless her father is going to do it.”

  “Why wouldn't he do it?” asked Garrett. “He is staying there.”

  “He mentioned something about rooming with Prof. Hamilton,” said Mr. Vander. “Don't know if he plans to sleep there tonight or back at the boarding house.”

  “What?” asked Ammy, confused. “Where is my father?”

  “He's in the kitchen,” said Betsy. “I’ll go let him know that you're here.”

  “What's my father doing in the kitchen? Seems an odd place for him to be.”

  “He was watching Betsy make another one of her famous apple pies,” said Mercy. “Said he wanted the recipe. I think it’s nice that the man likes to bake.”

  Ammy's eyes widened. “Recipe? He asked for the recipe?” Her father had never baked a pie in his life. What was her father up to? Ammy shook her head and figured she was about to find out.

  Twelve

  “Your daughter’s here,” Betsy announced as she entered the kitchen.

  Cecil glanced up from the cookbook he'd been reading. “Oh? Thank you for letting me know.” He closed the book and set it on the worktable. “My, I had no idea so much went into baking a pie.”

  “Mmmhmm. There’s a lot someone like you doesn't know about what goes on in a kitchen.”

  “Someone like me, you say?”

  “Mmmhmm. In fact, I don't think you've ever set foot in a kitchen in your life. At least not as an adult.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cecil huffed.

  Betsy placed her hands on her hips and eyed him. “Mr. Winters, I'm glad Garrett is getting a chance to know your daughter before they marry. But that has nothing to do with you standing here in my kitchen asking after pie recipes. What is it you really want?”

  “Great Scott, Horace was right. You don't beat around the bush do you?”

  “Nope.”

  Cecil stood and straightened his jacket. “I have only my daughter's best interests in mind. If she's going to live in this house, then I want to know how it's run.”

  Betsy raised a single eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I don't run a good house?”

  “Of course not. Mrs. Vander runs the house. You just do as you're told.”

  Her other brow went up. “You think so, huh?” Betsy smiled. “A lot you know.”

  “Enough of this! I can see you run an efficient kitchen! I'm going out to the parlor.” Cecil stormed from the kitchen without another word.

  Betsy stared after him and shook her head. “Big city folk think they know everything. Ha! Comes in here asking after my recipes and pretends he's
interested in how the house is run. Makes no sense if’n he already knows Mrs. Vander … She suddenly straightened. “Now why would a man like that come in here and pretend he's interested in how I make my pies? It sure ain’t because he wants to know how the house is run.” She turned and stared at the kitchen door that led to the hall. “Hmmm, looks like I better find out.”

  She turned to the worktable and started mixing up some ingredients to make gravy. Since she was to act as chaperone that evening for Garrett, she’d have a chance to find out what Cecil Winters was up to. She smiled again as she poured the ingredients into a pot on the stove and gave them a stir. She then set about readying the rest of the meal as she continued to ponder the strange behavior of Garrett's future father-in-law.

  ** *

  Cecil slipped into the parlor, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead with it. Why did the housemaid make him so nervous? He'd never been so flustered around a woman before. Maybe this whole thing with Reginald had caught up to him and he was having some sort of a breakdown? Good grief! The woman had him so out of sorts, he’d actually asked her for a pie recipe!

  But there was something about the Vander’s maid, something very familiar, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was, or where he'd seen her before. He had an odd attraction to her that hit him that afternoon at lunch, and had only grown stronger by dinner. The fact that he couldn’t remember where he'd seen her also drove him crazy, and he hated when something tickled his memory and needed to be scratched.

  “Ammy, my sweet!” he said as she and Garrett entered the parlor. “You look lovely tonight. Is that a new dress?”

  “Yes Father, Garrett bought it for me.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “You look beautiful in it, my dear. Don't you think so, Mr. Vander?”

  Garrett studied father and daughter for a moment. “Yes sir, I do.”

  “I hear you have a sudden interest in pie baking,” Ammy commented.

  Cecil let out a small chuckle. “Oh it's nothing, really. I was just passing the time.”