Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection
Page 56
“And your hand?”
“Accident. I was cutting an apple.”
“Why did you bring my parents here?”
“I love a girl who is direct. They’re here because I asked them for permission to marry you.” J.R. pointed over his shoulder. “All of them. All sixty-five of them.”
Her chest tightened. Who died? She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Quintus? She didn’t see him among the riders. Her baby brother hated riding in buggies or wagons or anything with wheels. The motion made him queasy. Where was Dexter? Her younger brothers never went anywhere without the other.
“Your brothers are”—he scratched his bearded jaw—“truth is, they’re in a Fort Worth jail cell and will be until one of them agrees to marry the judge’s daughter.”
Jane looked to her father. “Is this true?”
“Sure is,” he grumbled. “And I’m not sending bail. Now stop your yammering and listen to this man’s proposal. He earned our approval. There’s a pig that smells about ready to eat.”
Mama shook her head. Not surprising. She’d never had many words to spare for Jane.
“Lockhart,” Cyrus put in, a warning edge in his deep voice. “I advise you to be about your business. Hungry folk tend to get restless quick.”
“Jane, would you mind …?” J.R. motioned toward the school.
They walked in silence.
He led her around the building, shielding them from anyone’s view.
Jane curled her fingers around his hand. “How did you earn their approval?”
“First things first. I’m not a hero,” he said. “I write poems about butterflies and own more suits than I need and cost more than I should’ve spent. I fought a war with words. I’ve read Uncle Tom’s Cabin seven times and cried every time. There aren’t many things I can rescue you from. But there is one.”
Jane’s heart pounded fiercely. “There is?”
He cupped her cheek. “I can rescue you from being alone. I don’t need California. I need Jane Ransome.” Leaning close, he brushed his lips across hers. “I need you.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to say yes, I’ll marry you?”
He winked. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
His lips claimed hers, and Jane didn’t mind waiting a little longer for answers to how he earned the approval of her family or for his proposal. Not that she needed an official one. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could.
Apple Fritters
The New Household Receipt Book (1854)—Sarah Josepha Hale
Pare and core some fine large pippins (apples), and cut them into round slices. Soak them in wine, sugar, and nutmeg, for two or three hours. Make a batter of four eggs, a tablespoonful of rosewater, and a tablespoonful of milk. Thicken with enough flour, stirred in by degrees, to make a batter. Mix it two or three hours before it is wanted, that it may be light. Heat some butter in a frying-pan. Dip each slice of apple separately in the batter. Fry them brown. Sift powdered sugar and grate nutmeg over them.
Prior to The Boston Cooking-School Cook Book by Fannie Farmer, published 1896, recipes (formerly called receipts) had vague, if any, measurements. “A teacup of milk.” “A piece of butter the size of an egg.” “One wine-glass of wine.” In The New Household Receipt Book, Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale’s recipe for sponge cake calls for the cook to “take the weight of the eggs in sugar and half their weight in flour.” Large eggs? Medium eggs? Thank you, Miss Famer, for revolutionizing the industry by introducing the concept of using standardized measuring spoons and cups. You’ve made us better cooks!
Author’s Note
Truly we know not the horrors of war till peace has fled.—Pvt. Elijah Beeman, with the Union Army, to his sister Ann, April 26, 1862
Despite the US government’s extensive plans to settle Indians in Kansas, by 1850 white Americans were illegally squatting on their land and clamoring for the entire area to be opened for settlement. Several US army forts, including Fort Riley, were soon established deep in Indian Territory to guard travelers on the various western trails. From 1855 to 1858, Kansas Territory experienced extensive violence and some open battles. This period—known as “Bleeding Kansas” or “the Border Wars”—directly presaged the Civil War. In the 1860s, Kansas experienced war, the beginning of the cattle drives, the roots of Prohibition in Kansas, and the start of the Indian Wars on the western plains.
Turtle Springs is a fictionalized version of the unincorporated community of Wabaunsee, Kansas, nestled in the Flint Hills. The fourth new town in Kansas Territory (after Lawrence, Topeka, and Manhattan), Wabaunsee was named after a Pottawatomi chief, who, strangely enough, never actually lived in Kansas. Next time you are in the Sunflower State, be sure to visit Beecher Bible and Rifle Church, the oldest community building in the county, located on the corner of Chapel and Elm Streets, in Wabaunsee, Kansas.
ECPA-bestselling author Gina Welborn worked for a news radio station until she fell in love with writing romances. She serves on the American Christian Fiction Writers Foundation Board. Sharing her husband’s love for the premier American sportscar, she is a founding member of the Southwest Oklahoma Corvette Club and a lifetime member of the National Corvette Museum. Gina lives with her husband, three of their five Okie-Hokie children, two rabbits, two guinea pigs, and a dog that doesn’t realize rabbits and pigs are edible. Find her online at www.ginawelborn.com!
Dear Reader,
Turtle Springs is a fictional town with fictional characters. We sure hope you enjoyed your stay. So many times we’ve read wonderful stories of mail-order brides. But in this collection, we wanted to show what might happen if women put out a call for men to audition as husbands. We had a lot of fun writing these stories.
After the Civil War, many women were left without husbands, fathers, and brothers. They fought to eke out a living. Many succeeded greatly. Still, they yearned for a helpmate, a partner in life’s trials. I don’t figure it was too far of a stretch for a woman to find a man she fancied and propose to him. Then, after having had to be independent, the women struggled to fit back into the traditional roles of housewives and mothers. More and more, women were seen running businesses and working outside the home.
In Turtle Springs, they had no choice. It was either stay and work, or leave for the unknown. Our ladies chose to stay and forged a plan to make their town prosper.
Sincerely,
Cynthia Hickey
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