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

by Kit Morgan

  “The Snow Queen is your daughter?”

  “Yes, isn't it wonderful? We’re hardly a week and she's already risen to the top.”

  Miss Brubauk scowled. “I see.” She turned and looked Ammy in the eye. “So you traveled all this way to make sure your mail-order bride of a daughter, married, is that it?”

  Cecil stared at her a moment. “You're very astute, Miss Brubauk. How did you know she was a mail-order bride?

  “Mr. Winters, I don't think there's anyone in this town who doesn't know. I should have remembered her name. We have been introduced.” She looked this way and that then stepped closer to him. “Which means there also isn't anyone in this town that doesn't know that Garrett Vander will make her a horrible husband.”

  “What?”

  “I wouldn't bring it up to anyone, if I were you. The Vanders are very sensitive when it comes to Garrett's… indiscretions.”

  “Indiscretions?” Cecil hissed.

  Miss Brubauk nodded. “Young men do foolish things when they're away from home,” she drawled. “It wouldn't do your daughter any good to have some other woman show up on her doorstep, heavy with child, now would it?”

  “Miss Brubauk! What are you saying?”

  “Kindly keep your voice down, Mr. Winters. I'm just saying that a man of Garrett Vander’s ilk is likely to have sired a babe while he was away. It's only a matter of time before his past catches up to him. Would you want your daughter to have to suffer through that?”

  Cecil paled. “What proof do you have?”

  “Only his lowly character. Mark my words, Mr. Winters, that boy will give your daughter nothing but grief.”

  “You're doing a pretty good job of that now.”

  Miss Brubauk gasped. “How'd dare you say such a thing to me!”

  “You just defaced my daughter’s intended!” he quietly spat.

  “You'll rue the day you had this conversation, Mr. Winters,” she said in a quiet huff. She turned on her heel and glided away, then stopped in front of Ammy, put her nose in the air, and then walked on. Ammy watched her head straight for Bernice Caulder, and together they left the pageant meeting. She crossed the sanctuary to her father. “What was that all about?”

  Cecil took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead with it. “I'm not quite sure, other than that woman doesn't care for your intended.”

  “What? Or that I'm marrying him? Hmmm,” Ammy said as she thought a moment. “I think she had her eye on Garrett for her friend Bernice.”

  “Oh, is that what it was about? Well then, she has another thing coming, doesn't she?”

  “Yes,” agreed Ammy. “That is, if I ever get to see Garrett long enough to be able to marry him.”

  Cecil chuckled, smiled, and took her hands in his. “Don't worry, my dear, I've no doubt you'll be married by week’s end”

  How wrong he was.

  * * *

  Garrett poured over the papers on his desk, then leafed through several books next to him. Seems old George Clarkson had been more ill than he let on. Some of the cases hadn't had anything done to them for months. Just what on earth did the man do all day? Or perhaps, a better question was, what on earth was he able to do? Garrett was going to have to face the possibility that he’d be taking over his new partner’s cases much sooner than expected. Dear George was perhaps worse off than anyone knew. A knock on the door pulled Garrett out of his musings.

  Cecil Winters entered. “Well, there he is, young Mr. Vander.”

  Garret stood as Ammy walked in behind her father. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of her. “Mr. Winters, Ammy. What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?”

  “Lunch, actually. Would you like to join us?” Mr. Winters asked.

  Garrett's eyes locked on Ammy’s. “I'd love to.”

  He watched her blush. “You must be very busy. We haven't seen you for days.”

  Garrett glanced at the massive stack of papers and books on the desk. “Too busy, I'm afraid. I wish I wasn't, I know I've been neglecting you of late and I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said with a smile. “Are you able to get away to eat?”

  “I really shouldn't, but… how often does a man have a pretty girl show up at his office to invite him to lunch?”

  She smiled again as he came around the desk and took her hand. “The café, then?”

  “Yes,” she said never taking her eyes from his.

  Cecil cleared his throat. “Better get your coat son, it's cold outside. Not that you'd notice,” he muttered.

  Garrett caught the quip and chuckled. “I'll get my coat anyway.”

  Ammy watched him as he took his coat from a peg on the wall and put it on. “We've missed you at the pageant meetings.”

  “Yes, how is the Christmas pageant coming along? And how's my Snow Queen?”

  “Your Snow Queen’s wagon has been the topic of the week. Decorating it, that is. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to sitting up there and being gawked at.”

  “You aren’t thinking of disappointing your subjects are you?” he asked as he took her by the hand.

  “There are a few subjects in my kingdom that wouldn’t hesitate to throw rotten vegetables at me as I passed.”

  “What? Who would dare?”

  “Bernice Caulder, for one.”

  Garrett's eyes widened. Bernice? What has she got to do with… oh, wait, I bet I know.”

  “Know what?” asked Cecil.

  Garrett shook his head. “Poor Bernice. She’s a nice enough girl, but immature. She's been hanging around a lot with Morgan's Aunt Eunice, and I'm beginning to wonder if she's such a good influence on her.”

  “Oh, you mean Miss Brubauk?” asked Cecil.

  Garrett smiled. “Don't tell me, let me guess… you’ve met the woman?”

  “Yes I have,” said Cecil with a glazed look. “She is an… interesting sort.”

  “She's a harpy,” said Garrett. “And I don't mind saying so. Let's go to lunch, shall we?” He led Ammy out the door, Cecil following, and didn't say another word until they got to the café. He stewed over Morgan's aunt the entire time, and wondered if she was setting her sights on him to marry Bernice! That was all he needed.

  After they ordered lunch, Ammy shared with him what she'd been doing the last few days and told him more about the Christmas pageant. He listened intently, not so much because of the subject, but because he loved watching her talk. She used her hands a lot and had a sweet voice, and he wondered how well she could sing. When their food came they ate and chatted and all too soon it was time for him to return to work. “Ammy,” he said as they stepped outside. “Have dinner with me tonight, will you?”

  Her eyes lit up at his words, and his whole chest warmed. “I'd love to.”

  Garrett took her hands in his. “I am sorry for not getting to see you last few days. I feel terrible about it, but…”

  “There was nothing you could do. Mr. Clarkson is sick and needs the help.”

  Garrett nodded. “Shall I call for you at six?”

  “I'd like that,” she said with a smile.

  “Ahem,” Cecil interjected. “Might you be needing a chaperone?”

  Garrett smiled. “I believe so, Mr. Winters. Would you care to join us?”

  “Well, don't mind if I do. I haven't had Betsy's cooking for…”

  “Twenty-four hours?” finished Garrett.

  Ammy laughed. “Twenty-four hours? Father, just what have you been up to?”

  Cecil's ears turned pink. “Nothing at all. Just what do you think he was implying, dearest?”

  Ammy shrugged. “Oh, nothing, nothing at all.” She squeezed Garrett's hand and giggled.

  Garrett thought he might start floating on air. She was beautiful, delightful, and now that he was with her, he realized he'd missed her the past few days. He also realized the reason he wasn't able to concentrate on his work. “I'd best get back to the office,” he told them.

  “We’ll see y
ou later this evening,” said Cecil with a grin.

  “I think it's about time you start seeing me every evening,” said Garrett as he looked at Ammy.

  She sucked in her breath. “Really?”

  “I haven't been doing a very good job of romancing you. I need to catch up.”

  She blushed. “Yes, I believe you do.”

  Now it was Garrett's turn to smile. “Until tonight then, fair lady,” he said in a soft voice, then raised her hand to his lips and gave it a tender kiss. “Good afternoon.” With that he turned on his heel and strode down the boardwalk back to his office.

  Ammy watched him go and sighed.

  Cecil smiled. “What did I tell you? You'll be married by the end of the week!”

  “Father,” Ammy began. “This is the end of the week.” She turned to him. “He deserves to know why I'm really here.”

  “Now dearest, don't start that again. You're here to marry him true enough, but he doesn't need to know the details.”

  “Father, what if marrying Garrett puts him in danger? Reginald Van Cleet is not a man to be trifled with, and could come knocking on my door even after I’m married. What if my marriage doesn't make a difference, and Mr. Van Cleet tries to take me back to Boston anyway?”

  Cecil took her hands in his. “Ammy, listen to me. Marrying Garrett Vander and taking his name is your best protection. Reginald may be desperate for you, but even he can't go against the law. For one, it would be kidnapping; two, he'd be labeled a bigamist.”

  Ammy bowed her head. “I suppose you're right. I guess I worry too much.”

  “Yes, you certainly have. Now let's go back to the boarding house where you can rest before having dinner tonight with your young gentlemen.”

  “And yours with Betsy?” she teased.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don't you?” she said with a smile.

  “Well what's wrong with your father having a little romance in his life? It's been a long time for me…”

  “I knew you were sweet on her!” she said with a laugh. “And I can't think of anyone who deserves it more.” She kissed him on the cheek, hooked her arm through his, and together they strolled down the boardwalk, both with a smile on their face.

  Eunice Brubauk, on the other hand, scowled as she stepped out from behind a wagon parked in front of the café. She watched father and daughter as they made their back to the boarding house. “Betsy? That man fancies a servant? Who ever heard of such a thing?” She shook her head in disgust, spun on her heel, and marched straight to the telegraph office.

  Fourteen

  Dinner at the Vanders was a quiet affair. Mr. and Mrs. Vander had gone to have dinner with friends, which left Garrett and Ammy to themselves. Their chaperones were busy bantering back and forth in the kitchen, which gave Garrett the chance to do a little catching up. “You look lovely tonight, Ammy.”

  She brushed at the skirt of her dress. Of the two dresses she’d purchased earlier in the week, it was her favorite. Forest green with white trim, the frock was perfect for Christmas. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have such a pretty dress.”

  They sat on a loveseat in the parlor. Garrett scooted an inch or two closer and admired her. “It’s beautiful on you. In fact, I think you're beautiful.”

  Ammy’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Why, Mr. Vander, are you flirting with me?”

  “Of course, it's what the man courting you does, isn't it?”

  She pressed her lips together and looked away, her cheeks pink. She had to be the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. “My father warned me about men who flirt with women.”

  “Did he now? And what do you think he's doing in the kitchen with Betsy?”

  Ammy threw her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. She quickly removed them and leaned toward him. “They have been in their long time, haven't they?”

  “Yes, they most certainly have,” Garrett said in a suspicious tone as he glanced toward the hall. His head snapped around to her. “Let’s go see what they're doing,” he suggested and waggled his eyebrows.

  Ammy's mouth dropped open. “Garrett Vander! You mean you want to spy on Betsy and my father?”

  “Of course, what else?”

  Ammy giggled. “How could you even think of such a thing? Let's do it!”

  Garrett bit his lip to keep his own chuckles at bay, took her hand, and pulled her up from the loveseat. They left the parlor then crept down to the end of the hall and the door that led to the kitchen. It was one of two. There was another between the kitchen and the dining room. Garrett squeezed her hand and leaned toward the kitchen’s open door. Betsy and Cecil's voices could be heard as Garrett pressed himself and Ammy against the wall so they wouldn't be seen.

  “Mr. Vander likes his chocolate pie too,” they heard Betsy say.

  “Chocolate pie!” Cecil sputtered. “Good grief, woman, but you've spoiled the man!”

  “I've just been doing my job, Mr. Winters. They pay me to spoil him!”

  “Well I certainly wouldn’t pay you to do such a thing!”

  “Then I’d be fired.”

  “No, no, no, that's not what I meant.”

  “Just what did you mean, Mr. Winters?”

  “I… I was just saying… oh, never mind what I said!”

  Outside in the hall, Ammy had her mouth covered with both hands, her face red. Garrett knew she was about to bust a gut and give them away. He had to do something fast. He quickly repositioned himself in front of her, put a finger to his lips, and shook his head. She snorted despite his instruction, and closed her eyes tight. Garrett put his own hand over her mouth as they continued to listen.

  “No, really, Mr. Winters. What do you mean you wouldn't pay a maid to cook and make you delicious desserts? Do you have something wrong with you? Can't you eat them?”

  Silence. Garrett and Ammy exchanged a quick look before their eyes darted back to the kitchen door.

  “What I'm saying, Betsy… that is… well if you were in my employ… I'm not sure you'd be there for long.”

  Betsy slammed some sort of utensil onto the worktable. Garret looked at Ammy and raised his eyebrows in shock.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” Betsy asked with an indignant tone.

  Garrett slowly removed his hand from the top of Ammy’s and pressed his fingers to his lips again. Ammy lowered her hands as well, and looked up at him…

  “I didn't mean anything bad by it, on the contrary, it was more of a compliment,” said Cecil.

  “Compliment?” Betsy huffed. “You just told me that if you hired me you'd fire me!”

  Garrett gazed into Ammy’s eyes, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her head, and leaned forward…

  “I wouldn't fire you because you were a bad cook, you silly woman!”

  “You know darn well I'm a fine cook, otherwise you wouldn't be coming over here every day for lunch!”

  Ammy's eyes darted to the kitchen door, then back to Garrett's. He was closing the distance slowly, giving her a chance to turn him away. But she didn't…

  “You are the most infuriating man I have ever met,” huffed Betsy.

  “And you're the most fiery… er, um …beautiful… best cook I've ever met…”

  Garrett's eyes roamed Ammy’s face, and settled on her mouth as he drew closer…

  “What? Mr. Winters! What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Can't you see when a man is trying to tell you he likes you?!”

  “Likes me?” Betsy asked, her voice softer.

  “From the moment I saw you…”

  “And when was that?”

  “Whenever and wherever it was we've seen each other…”

  Garrett and Ammy froze, mere inches separating their lips. They gazed at each other as both sets of eyebrows rose with interest.

  “Where? Betsy asked, the suspicion in her voice clear.

  “I… I think it
was Virginia.”

  “Humph! I ain’t never been to Virginia!”

  Garrett shrugged, looked at Ammy and closed the distance between them. Betsy’s and Cecil’s words faded as his lips melded with Ammy's. She was soft and sweet and oh so receptive to his kiss. She must've wanted it as badly as he had, so he pulled her into his arms to see what she would do. She didn't resist.

  “I've changed my mind!” Cecil’s voice rang from the kitchen. “I don't think I've ever seen you anywhere!”

  “Mr. Winters! Get out of my kitchen and get to watching them youngins!”

  “Betsy, I didn't mean to offend you,” apologized Cecil.

  At this point Garrett and Ammy were oblivious to the banter in the kitchen, as Garrett deepened the kiss further…

  “Confound it, woman, can't you see I'm trying to tell you I like you!”

  “You don't have to yell! And besides, you don't want them youngins to come in here and see us arguing like this, do you?”

  Garrett, out of breath, broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Ammy’s. “Maybe we ought to go back to the parlor,” he whispered.

  Her breathing was ragged, his was worse. “Yes,” she agreed in a soft voice.

  He quickly took her hand and led her back down the hall. No sooner had they retaken their seats, Betsy came through the kitchen door into the dining room and started to set the table. Cecil came out as well, strode past her, and marched across the foyer into the parlor, his face flushed.

  Ammy nervously smoothed the skirt of her dress and smiled at him. “What’s for dinner, Father?”

  “I might not stay for dinner,” he huffed. “Betsy will be enough to chaperone the two of you. Besides, how much chaperoning do you need? You're going to be married anyway.”

  Ammy straightened on the loveseat. “What's wrong? Why are you so upset?”

  “Dinner is in five minutes!” Betsy called from the dining room.

  “They listened as she went through the swinging kitchen door. As soon as it came to a stop, her father pointed at it. “That woman is impossible!”

  “Betsy?” Garrett asked and tried not to smile. “What’s she gone and done now?”

  “She … why she had the nerve to… oh never mind!”