by Kit Morgan
“Right here,” came a weak voice behind him.
Cecil spun. “Ammy! Why aren’t you up on that wagon?”
She looked at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. “Because I couldn’t do it. I can’t do any of this any more.”
Cecil took her by the arm and steered her toward the bookshop. “Ammy, dearest, what are you saying?”
Ammy shook her head. “Oh, Father! Something terrible has happened!”
“What’s happened? What are you talking about?”
“I can’t marry, Garrett.”
“WHAT?”
She shook her head. “I … I want to leave, get out of Independence. Go somewhere where no one will find us.”
He grabbed her by the arm, and took her into the bookshop, just as Bernice Caulder, sitting atop the Snow Queen’s throne, waved. “Now tell me what this is all about.”
Ammy swallowed hard then stared at the floor. “A woman came to the boarding house, she was looking for Garrett.” She glanced up at him, her face agonized. “She’s … heavy with child.”
“What?!” Cecil took a step back, his mind reeling. Hadn’t Miss Brubauk warned him? Good grief, the old harpy was right! Anger struck, hard and fast, and Cecil’s face twisted with it. “I’m going to kill that boy…”
“Father! Don’t talk like that!”
“Well why not? Look what he’s done to you!”
“I … maybe I’m wrong …”
“Dearest, ‘heavy with child’ can hardly make you wrong! That’s not something you can be mistaken about.” He spun to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Garrett Vander, and tell him what I think of him! You’re right about one thing, you’ll not marry him now!”
Ammy sank against the shop’s counter and stifled a sob. “I don’t understand; how could he do such a thing? He seems so just, and … right.”
“You can’t always judge a book by its cover. Obviously young Mr. Vander had some hidden chapters.” Cecil went to the door. “Stay here.” With that, he left.
* * *
Garrett stood at the end of the parade route. He had Ammy’s wedding dress at the church, and as soon as the parade was over, planned to have her change into it. She’d go from Snow Queen to his queen within the hour if he had his way. But, he was willing to wait if that’s what she wanted.
“You see her yet?” asked Betsy from behind him.
“She should be coming now. Thank you for arranging things for me with Pastor Adams.”
“Thanks for getting the dress. Mrs. Simpson can be kinda cranky in the mornings. Better you deal with her than me.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m gonna miss you, Betsy.”
“What do ya mean, miss me? You ain’t going nowhere.”
“Not yet, I’m not. But in time, I would like my own house.”
“Mmmhmm, and I’d like my own hole in the head. There ain’t nothing wrong with you and your wife staying on. You know that don’t ya?”
“Yes, I know …”
“Look, there she is!” Betsy cried and pointed as the Snow Queen’s wagon approached.
Garrett smiled broadly, then frowned. “That’s not Ammy up there!”
“No, it’s not!” cried Cecil as he grabbed Garrett by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him in the jaw to send his head reeling.
“What do you mean, hitting Mr. Garrett!” Betsy cried as she grabbed Cecil by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him in the jaw!
Both men stood, shaking their heads from the impact of the blows. “What was that for?” they cried in unison.
“That’s what I’d like to know!” huffed Betsy as she shook out her fist.
Cecil stared at her, a blank look on his face, then recognition dawned. “Betsy … Betsy Butler … is that you?”
Betsy’s eyes grew wide. “How’d you know that name?” she demanded. “No one knows me by that name!”
Cecil rubbed his jaw, unable to take his eyes off her, forgetting Garrett for the moment. “You hit me once, just like you did now … we were children …”
Betsy’s eyes riveted on him as her mind raced. “Children?”
Cecil nodded. “You … ah … used to hit me alot …”
Betsy’s mouth fell open. “Oh no … don’t tell me you’re that scrawny little runt from Miss Pratt’s school?”
Cecil smiled and nodded. “That would be me …”
“This is all fine and dandy,” snapped Garrett, “but it still doesn’t explain why you struck me!”
Cecil’s glowing face of recognition faded as he turned to him. “You! You cad! You’re not going to marry Ammy and that’s final!” He spun back to Betsy. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but your young master seems to have been holding out on you, all of you!”
He rubbed his jaw one last time, took in Betsy’s shocked expression, and made to storm past her.
Garrett grabbed his arm from behind. “What are you talking about? Explain yourself sir!”
Cecil spun to him. “I’m talking about your … past catching up with you. There’s a young lady at the boarding house. She’s looking for you. I think once you see her that will explain everything! Good day to you, sir!” He wrenched his arm from Garrett’s and stomped through the snow back toward the main part of town.
Garrett shook himself, blinked a few times, then stared at Betsy. “What was that all about?”
“That there’s a man I used to …” She looked at Garrett. “I used to follow him everywhere. I only hit him cause I liked him…”
Garrett threw his hands up in the air. “Good grief! Doesn’t anyone around here make any sense?”
Betsy shuddered, then straightened. “You’d best get yourself over to the boarding house and see what’s going on. I have a funny feeling it ain’t gonna be pleasant.”
Garrett started at her, stunned. “What do you know of this?”
“Nothing, Mister Garrett, but Bernice Caulder sitting on that throne as the Snow Queen says a lot…”
Garret’s eyes widened. “Oh, no…”
“Mmmhmm, you’d best run, Mister Garrett. I’ll go tell Pastor Adams to wait.”
Garrett nodded, then took off stumbling through the snow toward the boarding house. He had to act fast and get this mess straightened out before Ammy and her father did something rash. Like leave. Garrett, along with everyone else in town, knew there was a twelve o’clock stage; and it was almost eleven-thirty.
* * *
Ammy sat in a corner of the bookshop, her face in her hands and sniffed back her tears. There was no help for it. She’d made a horrible mistake, and misjudged Garrett Vander. She’d always prided herself on being able to tell if someone was of good character, but not this time. He’d wooed and won her, and had fooled her with all his pretty words and then the icing of “I love you” placed on her heart’s proverbial cake. She now understood how such a man could ruin a girl, and, in Garrett Vander’s case, had.
Ammy felt compassion for the woman at the boarding house, and hoped and prayed Garrett would do the right thing and marry her. At least if he did, Ammy might feel better about him, and less about her father’s threat to kill him. For a moment, it sounded like a good idea.
But no, murder wouldn’t do. Then she’d be no better than that low-life Reginald Van Cleet …
“Reginald …” Cold shot through her. She swallowed hard. If she gave herself over to him, wouldn’t that solve all of their problems?
She sat and listened as the noon stage rambled by with a loud jangle of harness. There was a shout, and then another, and she wondered what was going on. Maybe if she had been smart, she and her father would be on it. But there would be others …
The door slammed open. “Ammy!”
Ammy sat up straight, her heart in her throat. “Garrett …” she whispered. Her jaw shook and she bit the inside of her cheek to still it.
“Ammy, where are you?”
She shrank into the corner. Sh
e didn’t want to see him, speak to him … she was still so angry, but not at him. She was angry with herself for being so easily fooled.
“Ammy …”
She closed her eyes in resignation. He’d found her. “Go away …” she rasped.
“Ammy, listen to me, it’s not what you think!”
She looked up at him. “Isn’t it? What am I supposed to think?”
“That you’re the woman I love. You and no other. The woman at the boarding house…”
“She needs your help, Garrett. I would hope you’d at least take care of her and the baby.”
“Baby? What baby?”
Ammy’s head shot up. “The one she’s carrying,” she told him and held her hands out from her belly for emphasis.
“The only thing that minx at the boarding house was carrying was a carpet bag under her cloak!”
Ammy stood. “What?!”
“Her name is Mary Wilkes. Her folks live out here now. They used to live in Portland.”
Ammy’s breathing became ragged with emotion. She was mad and glad all at the same time. “I don’t understand; who is she?”
“She and I courted a few years ago, she showed up here to see her family. She lives in Portland with her sister and brother. They come here for Christmas. Apparently someone wired her and thought it would be a great joke for her to show up … well, like she did. They told her I’d think it was hilarious.”
Ammy gaped at him. “What sort of woman does such a thing? Why pretend to be …”
“Mary and her siblings are actors. Not the most respectable profession, but it’s what they love to do…”
Ammy fell back into her chair in the corner. “I don’t understand any of this. Who would pull such a horrible prank on a person?”
Garrett eyed the door a moment, then turned back to her. “Never mind that right now.” He went down on one knee beside her. “I love you, Ammy. I’ve loved you since I kissed you outside my kitchen door. I want to marry you, now.”
She looked at him, tears in her eyes. “Now?”
“If you’ll still have me. Betsy has your dress at the church, and Pastor Adams is there…”
She swallowed hard. “I … I doubted you. Was so quick to … throw everything away.”
“You can’t look at something and assume … never assume. Wrong assumptions can kill you.”
“Yes, I know.” She looked at him. “I’m here because of such a thing. My father … Garrett, he’s been falsely accused of stealing from his own company, and is being forced by his partner to hand over …”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Hand over what? Ammy, what are you talking about?”
She swallowed hard. “Hand over me, or he’ll have my father thrown in jail, or worse.”
“What?!” he pulled Ammy out of the chair and took her in his arms. “Is that why you’ve been trying to rush our marriage? To escape this man?”
She nodded, unable to speak. “It’s why we came west, so that I could marry and be safe from the likes of Reginald Van Cleet.”
“Great Scott! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She looked at him. “I was afraid you’d have nothing to do with me.”
He loosed his hold on her. “Do you love me?”
She closed her eyes, opened them. “Yes, but what does it matter?”
He put his hands on either side of her face and stared into her eyes. “Ammy, sweetheart, it’s all that matters.”
Her lower lip trembled, and before she could cry out, Garrett stilled her with a kiss. And he kept kissing her, until she knew that his words were true.
Epilogue
“You may kiss the bride.”
Garrett glanced at Pastor Adams, smiled at Ammy, and then kissed her with everything he had. Mercy his mother gasped in delight. Horace his father gave a grunt of approval, and Betsy …
“Mmmhmm, I told ya everything would turn out.”
Cecil stood next to her, his eyes flicking between the kissing couple and her smug expression. “How did you know?”
“I know what goes on in this town, Mr. Winters. That Miss Brubauk is nothing but trouble in a skirt. Poor Mr. Tindle has been trying to get rid of her since Thanksgiving. Putting her on the twelve o’clock stage was the best thing he could’ve done. Maybe now she’ll stay home in Portland for awhile.”
“But how did you know she sent that young woman a telegraph?”
“That was easy. Cause Miss Brubauk can’t stand actors, and everyone in town knows the Wilkes’ children took to the profession like three fish to water. They don’t make much money at it, but they sure love what they do. To her it was like killing two birds with one stone. She’d disgrace one of them, and if lucky, get rid of your daughter at the same time.”
“So Miss Brubauk knew they’d take any sort of acting job they could get? Even to pull a prank on one of their friends?”
“Mmmhmm, sure enough.”
Cecil shook his head. “Small towns …”
Betsy looked at him. “You were from a small town once.”
Cecil blushed. “Er… yes. I remember our school days together …”
“That was a long time ago … Chester.”
Cecil cringed. “Don’t call me that. I prefer Cecil.”
“What’s wrong with Chester?”
“I’ve always hated that name, and prefer to use my middle name.”
“Suit yourself … Chester.”
“Stop!”
She grinned. “Now that Ammy and Garrett are married, what will you do?”
He looked at her. “I think I’ll stay on here for a time, build a business, and then, who knows?”
She studied him a moment. “Mmmhmm, who knows?” She glanced down as he slowly took one of her hands in his. Betsy looked up, smiled, and watched as Garrett and Ammy finally came up for air.
The End
(Except of course for the mystery of who sent away for a mail-order bride)
About the Author: Kit Morgan, aka Geralyn Beauchamp, has been writing for fun all her life. When writing as Kit Morgan, her books are whimsical, fun, inspirational sweet stories that depict a strong sense of family and community. When writing as Geralyn Beauchamp, her books are epic, adventurous romantic fantasy at its very best.
Be watching for the next installment of The Holiday Mail-Order Brides to find out what happens next, in His Mail-Order Valentine. In the meantime, if you love Kit Morgan’s books, check out her alter ego—Geralyn Beauchamp’s titles! You might just find out more about the mysterious Scotsman!
Time Masters Book One; The Call
Time Masters Book Two; The Prophecy
You can also visit Kit’s website at www.authorkitmorgan.com where you can sign up for her newsletter and find out about new books, events, and other fun news!!!
