Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  “He said that she’d gone back into the burning house to save her mother, and he begged us to go in and save the both of them. I was the highest ranked among the men, so it was me that they turned to for a decision on his request.

  “Looking at the house, I figured there was no way the young woman and her mother could still be alive. We’d been on the property for several minutes already, and I surmised that the smoke, alone, would have suffocated them in that time. So, I ordered my men to stand down and tend to the old man instead.”

  Though Mary Ann was heated and skeptical of Jack, she stood by and listened to all he said, and she watched him carefully as he spoke. She had little reason to believe what he was telling her—but, for some reason, however little it was, she did, and she opened both her heart and her mind as he went on.

  “Just as we were loading the old man onto the back of a horse, I heard a shrill scream from within the house,” Jack recounted. “I turned and saw a woman’s face in the front window. She was no older than you—and similar in appearance—and she was surrounded by flames.

  “I started toward the house. But, the porch was already on fire. One of my fellow soldiers reached out and pulled at my arm to stop me.

  ‘It’s too late,’ he said. ‘You’ll be killed. Leave her be.’

  “‘I can’t!’ I yelled back it him. ‘I won’t!’ I exclaimed.

  I broke free from his hold and made way to the porch. But, just as I got to it, a fiery beam crashed down in front of me, blocking my path, and I watched, unable to do anything, as the young woman begged for mercy and was consumed by the fire.

  “I felt overwhelmed by guilt because I’d ordered my men to stand down, and, I’m sad to say, in that moment, I wished the fire would have consumed me as well. But, whatever death wish I had, it was soon silenced, when one of my fellow soldiers told me that another fire had been set less than a half-mile down the road.

  “I collected myself, jumped on my horse, and made my way to the next house, post haste. Without even thinking, I ran into the burning building, searching for anyone who needed saved.

  “The only living being I came across was a young girl, curled up under a table, crying—the same young girl who is now laying in that very room with you. I carried her out of the burning house and handed her off to another soldier, then I ran back inside to look for other survivors.

  “I was inside for two or three additional minutes before I realized that everyone else in there was dead, and I ran out just in time to spare my own life. I collapsed to the ground as soon as I was away from the flames. I was rendered unconscious, and my men took me, along with the child and old man, back to camp.

  “When I woke up three days later, I learned that the civilians had been taken to a nearby infirmary, and I was instructed not to tell anyone about what I’d seen that night, for fear of having our forces questioned and dragged through the mud.”

  Mary Ann pushed the door open a bit further and looked out at Jack. He glanced back at her with tears in his eyes.

  “Think about it, Mary Ann,” he said. “Would I come here to the baker’s house, knowing that you’d called for the sheriff, if I was a criminal on the run?”

  “Why did you come here?” Mary Ann asked, opening the door even more.

  “I came here to help you,” Jack replied with a whimper. “When I saw your face as you left my homestead, I saw the face of the woman who perished in the first fire, and I realized that God had answered my prayers.

  “For months, I’ve been begging God for His forgiveness for making the call that I did, and imploring Him to give me a way to redeem myself—and, finally, He did. He brought you to me—you, the very picture of the woman who died because of my decision—and He gave me a chance to do for you what I could not do for her.”

  Just as Jack finished speaking, Mary Ann heard the clamoring of hooves a short distance away. One of the town deputies was riding toward them on his horse.

  “You have to believe me,” Jack said desperately, shifting his wait against the beam. “Please, say that you believe me. Please!”

  Mary Ann stepped back from the doorway and slowly pushed the door shut without so much as a word. She turned and went to check in on her patients, and tried as best she could to ignore Jack’s plaintive cries as the deputy untethered him from the porch and took him into custody.

  A few moments later, Jack was out of sight, but he was not out of mind. Mary Ann kept going over his story, over and over again, as she tended to the baker and his brood. It all sounded very reasonable, but, given the way Isabella reacted to Jack, she still had great doubt.

  But, over the next several hours, Mary Ann was forced to forget about that doubt—and forget about Jack—as her patients’ conditions grew much, much worse.

  The baker was the first to die. He passed quietly, in his sleep, and Mary Ann didn’t even realize he’d expired until she touched his cold skin.

  Next to leave this earth was Gretchen, though her passing was not nearly as calm. She gave to heavy convulsions while Mary Ann was shrouding the baker’s body, and, by the time Mary Ann made it to her side, she’d already choked to death on her own swollen tongue.

  “Enough!” Mary Ann exclaimed as she put a blanket over the mother’s dead body. “Please, dear Lord, stop this sickness and death!” Mary Ann bent over and buried her head in her hands, crying—and, she kept crying as the door swung open and Doc Hansen entered.

  “Oh no,” he said, taking note of the two dead bodies in the room. He rushed over to Mary Ann’s side. “Old Man Hall is dead too, and so is young Henry Jones,” he told her.

  Mary Ann had never met the old man or the young boy, but she sobbed and mourned their passing.

  “But Harry Jones is still alive,” he added. “In fact, he never took ill at all, even though he ate just as much bread as his brother.”

  Mary Ann held back her tears and looked at the doctor inquisitively. He held out a large jar that contained a thick beige substance.

  “I don’t know if it’ll work,” he said, opening the jar. “But, I’ve come up with a possible remedy. I’ve treated Harry several times in the past, for knots in his stomach. He has the vile habit of eating clay—and perhaps that vile habit is what saved his life.

  “I’ve taken watered-down clay to the houses of the other townspeople affected by this sickness and advised them to eat as much of it as possible. It is my belief—and hope—that it contains some mineral or other element that stays the symptoms.”

  Mary Ann grabbed the jar of clay from the doctor’s hand and rushed over to Isabella. She tried to rouse the child, but was unsuccessful—though she did not give up. She hoisted the girl into an upright position, opened her mouth, and slowly poured the watered-down clay into it. She then massaged Isabella’s throat, so that she wouldn’t choke, like her mother.

  After pouring a bit more into Isabella’s mouth, Mary Ann next went over to the baker’s sister, who proved more responsive. The middle-aged woman opened her eyes when Mary Ann shook her, and was able to swallow on her own when the watered-down clay was poured into her mouth—but, she was otherwise dazed and unresponsive.

  “It’s in God’s hands now,” Doc Hansen remarked as Mary Ann replaced the lid on the jar. “Now, we must wait—and pray.”

  And, that’s exactly what Mary Ann did.

  Doc Hansen took leave to visit the other patients, and Mary Ann took post in the chair at the far end of the room, where she closed her eyes and prayed to her Maker.

  Isabella and the baker’s wife barely stirred throughout the night, and their conditions neither got worse nor better, at least not as far as Mary Ann could tell.

  It wasn’t until just after dawn the next morning that something changed, and the change that came was quite welcome, even if completely unexpected and sad.

  Mary Ann sat still in her chair, sleeping, when she heard rustling. She opened her eyes promptly and saw Isabella standing up a few feet away from her. She held Edgar’s ragdoll in he
r arms again, and she squeezed it tightly as she examined the room around her.

  “Where’s mama?” the young girl asked, looking at Mary Ann, then at the two covered bodies.

  Mary Ann sprung up from her chair and jumped in front of Isabella, blocking her view.

  “Your mother didn’t survive the sickness,” she said, walking toward the girl with open arms. “She’s gone off to be with the Lord now.”

  “And with my father,” Isabella added as she rushed into Mary Ann’s embrace.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get the remedy to her in time,” Mary Ann said, hugging the child with all her might. She was apologizing to God as much as she was apologizing to Isabella.

  “I’m sorry too,” Isabella replied. “And, I’m sorry that man didn’t get here sooner. Maybe he could have saved her, like he saved me before.”

  “What?” Mary Ann asked, pulling back from the hug just enough to look Isabella in the face. “What man?” In all that had transpired in the last dozen or so hours, Mary Ann had all but forgotten about Isabella’s brief encounter with Jack.

  “The nice man—the hero—from the fire,” Isabella answered. “He saved me after those bad guys set my uncle’s house on fire during the war. Maybe if he’d have gotten here sooner, he could’ve saved Mama too?”

  “Oh, sweet child,” Mary Ann said, drawing Isabella even closer to her. “I’m sure he would have tried.”

  Just then, Mary Ann heard a commotion from outside and got to the door just in time to see Doc Hansen and Mr. Clark approaching.

  “Praise Jesus!” Mr. Clark yelled joyfully as Mary Ann opened the door. “My Dorothy has recovered!”

  “And so have the Petersons, the Jacksons, and Widow Landry,” Doc Hansen added with a smile, listing all of the other townspeople affected.

  “And, so has my youngest patient,” Mary Ann stated happily as Isabella walked up beside her. She heard a rustling from behind her and turned to see the baker’s sister sitting up on the couch.

  “But,” Mary Ann went on, “there is someone else in need of my help—and we must tend to him immediately.”

  The doctor and Mr. Clark looked at each other, then at Mary Ann curiously.

  “We have to get to the sheriff’s station right away,” she said, running out past the porch and gesturing for Mr. Clark to escort her. “Jack Montgomery is in custody for a crime he did not commit, and I’ve learned information that can free him.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Mr. Clark sang out, observing Mary Ann’s change of spirit and quickly moving toward his carriage. The two of them boarded the carriage, and Mr. Clark set the horses into swift motion.

  On the way to town, Mary Ann told Mr. Clark all that Jack and Isabella had told him, and Mr. Clark seemed relieved, but not at all shocked, by what she conveyed.

  “Jack Montgomery may be stubborn and short,” Mr. Clark commented, “but I knew he couldn’t have set that fire, and I’m glad that that young girl spoke up to vindicate him.”

  “As am I,” Mary Ann responded as they continued toward their destination.

  When the Clarks’ carriage finally made it to the heart of Bright Valley, the town was already buzzing with people and activity, as if the events of the day before had never even happened.

  Mary Ann jumped off of the carriage and ran to the sheriff’s station as soon as Mr. Clark stopped his horses, and she stormed past the deputy, straight to the sheriff, upon entering the building.

  “You have to let Jack go,” she said, speaking unequivocally to the sheriff. “He is not responsible for the fire that killed Isabella’s family. Isabella woke from her sickness this morning and told me as much. She said that he saved her.”

  The sheriff instructed Mary Ann to slow down and repeat her story, and, once he garnered all of the necessary information, he stood up, grabbed a ring of keys from his desk, and headed toward the back of the station.

  A few minutes later, the sheriff returned to his desk, and he had Jack Montgomery with him.

  “So, you do believe me?” Jack asked Mary Ann.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling through the tears that flooded her eyes. “And, I apologize for doubting you… Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” Jack replied sweetly. “If you can forgive me.”

  “For what?” Mary Ann asked.

  “For being so selfish and rude with you the other day,” Jack answered, “and for being so blind to the gift that God gave me.”

  Mary Ann felt her face get warm and was sure she was blushing. “I can—and do—forgive you, Jack Montgomery,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Jack responded. He gazed at Mary Ann’s face and, rather than focusing on her similarities to the woman who died in the fire, he focused on those features that were different, including her dimples, long neck, and freckles.

  “I have one other question for you, Mary Ann Grace,” Jack went on, nervously. “Will you stay here with me in Bright Valley—not as my maid, nor as my nurse… but as my wife?”

  Mary Ann’s heart fluttered inside of her chest, and, without even thinking, she answered. “Yes,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, Jack. I will be your wife.”

  Jack threw his head back and starting laughing. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed, elated. “We’ll plan for a wonderful wedding. But, before that, I’d like to officially meet this young girl, Isabella, who cleared my name.”

  “Oh,” Mary Ann said, bowing her head as the smile melted from her face. “I can take you to meet her. But, be aware, she’s surely not in the best of spirits. Her mother passed on from the sickness last night, and the baker is dead too… I guess that makes her an orphan. She has no family left now.”

  Jack sighed in sadness, then gasped in revelation and spoke cheerfully.

  “Her mother may be gone,” Jack said. “But, I do believe, by God’s graces, she can still have a family and need not be cast off as an orphan.”

  Mary Ann raised her head and looked at Jack, who, even in his rugged state, appeared rather endearing and handsome.

  “A child like that needs special care,” Jack said, moving closer to Mary Ann while still maintaining a respectable distance. “She’s seen a lot in her life, and needs parents who can understand what she has been through—parents who, like her, have seen the ugliness of this world and survived it, parents like us.”

  “You mean, you—,” Mary Ann started to say, carefully forming a question.

  “I mean we will take her into our home once we are married,” Jack said, interrupting her with a beautiful, heart-touching statement. “That is, if you think it’s within your power to love and care for us both.”

  “I do, Jack,” Mary Ann replied, crying tears of joy. “I do.”

  Three weeks later Jack Montgomery and Mary Ann Grace were lawfully married, and, shortly thereafter, they adopted Isabella. So ended a dark chapter in their lives’ history, and so began their bright future in Bright Valley.

  The End

  4. A Lonely Cowboy for the Scarred Bride

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ONE

  Amy Lawrence took her time and walked at a slow, leisurely pace as she made her way back home from the market. It was a late-November afternoon in New York, and she found the chill in the air refreshing. It calmed and cooled her and kept her skin from sweating beneath her many layers of clothing.

  Just as Amy turned the corner to embark upon the last leg of her journey, she caught sight of something that made her stop dead in her tracks and drop her jaw.

  Several yards away, in an alley, a small group of shabbily dressed men stood huddled around a metal barrel. They appeared to be beggars or vagrants, and, unlike Amy, they did not seem to take too kindly to the winter weather. They’d set a fire inside of the barrel, and were warming themselves next to i
t. The fire was small, but it blazed strong, and the flames from it licked the air in a serpent-like fashion.

  Amy gasped at the menacing vision and dropped the parcel she was carrying. Her two pints of milk and dozen eggs crashed to the ground. The men heard the commotion and looked back at her, both confused and concerned.

  “Oh no!” she whimpered. Then, she swiftly turned and started to run off in the opposite direction.

  “Everything alright, miss?” one of the men called out. “You need help?”

  Amy kept running and ignored the man’s questions. She didn’t want to waste time answering them and wanted to get away from the scene as quickly as possible. But, nonetheless, she was thankful that the stranger had been so considerate—and, as she ran, she asked God to bring him, as his fellow vagrants, many blessings. Because it hadn’t been them who had frightened and alarmed her… It had been the fire.

  “Where on earth have you been?” Audrey asked as soon as Amy walked into the house. “And where are my eggs and milk?”

  Amy bowed her head and shook it from side to side. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I slipped on a patch of ice and dropped them.”

  It was not Amy’s custom to lie. But, when her older sister asked her those questions, she opted for the lesser of two evils so as to prevent an uncomfortable conversation about an ugly chapter of their past.

  “You dropped the milk and eggs?” Audrey asked, looking at Amy suspiciously.

  “Yes,” Amy replied, removing her coat. Underneath it, she wore a thick white blouse tucked into a long brown skirt, with a brown sweater on top. The fabric was heavy, and she was starting to sweat again, but habit stopped her from removing the sweater.

  “Well, what am I supposed to do now?” Audrey hissed. “Clarence will be home from work in a few hours, and I wanted to make him his favorite custard. It’s our anniversary today, you know—and, by all that is Holy, you’ve ruined it!”