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

by Hope Sinclair

  Amy smiled back and nodded, then rejoined Portia and left the church.

  Back at the homestead, Amy picked at her lunch while Portia and Robert devoured theirs. She didn’t have much of an appetite because her stomach was full of anxiety and excitement, over both her pie and her impending evening with Joshua.

  Evening couldn’t come soon enough, however. The next few hours felt grueling, and Amy tried to keep busy so as not to overthink things or worry. She swept the Millers’ house, scrubbed the pots, and set out a bowl of kibble for their mastiff.

  Just as Amy was looking for another chore, Portia came over and told her it was time to get ready for the festival. She promptly did as Portia had suggested, and, within a half-hour, they were on the carriage, headed for town.

  Amy’s mind was racing with thoughts, and, before she knew it, she and the Millers arrived in town. As soon as the carriage was parked, Amy stepped off and looked toward the market, where the corn-husking competition was already under way. Much to her surprise, Joshua stood amongst a line of other men, husking corn as the sand in a large hourglass dwindled.

  Joshua looked up from his basket, noticed Amy, and smiled at her. Amy giggled at his hiatus from husking, and would have felt bad about distracting him had he not already been so far behind. From what she knew of him, Joshua was incredibly detail-oriented and patient, which, in a speed-based competition, did not prove to be assets. His basket of husked corn was only half as full, if that, as the others’.

  Amy watched the competition as it came to a close, then giggled again as Joshua shrugged his shoulders once it concluded.

  “And, the winner is… Clive Howell!” the judge shouted after assessing the baskets. Amy glanced at Clive’s basket and noticed it was much fuller than anyone else’s, which explained why the judge ruled on it so promptly.

  “Now go about your merriment,” the judge furthered. “These men will take the corn to the pots, and, within the hour, we can all feast on the fruit of their efforts.”

  Joshua and the other men took hold of their baskets and scurried off. Amy tried as best as she could to see where they were going, but couldn’t keep track of them through the crowd.

  “Where are the pots?” she asked another young woman who was standing beside her.

  “On the other side of the town square,” the girl answered. “They’re preparing quite a meal over there!”

  Amy smiled and thanked her for the information, then turned and headed toward the town square. She made her way through the crowd and approached the final corner—and, just as she turned it, her jaw dropped, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

  There, in front of her, on the other side of the town square, a huge fired was burning. It was a controlled blaze and was attended to by several men, who were roasting meats and other foods by it.

  “It’s just a bonfire,” a man said as he observed Amy’s fright. He was a stranger to her but was concerned at how strangely she was responding to the town custom.

  “It’s part of our annual barbecue,” he added, just as Amy turned and ran off.

  Unbeknownst to Amy, Joshua had seen Amy as she stood at the corner. Although he wasn’t able to see the look on her face, he was able to see the man talking to her, and he saw her flee from their conversation. He didn’t know what they’d discussed, and he remembered, again, how women liked their privacy, as well as what the minister had said about being mindful of both his manners and his neighbors. So, against his initial instinct, he decided not to chase after Amy—and, as his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach, he hoped that the other man wouldn’t chase after her either.

  EIGHT

  Amy sat on the Millers’ porch, staring up at the night sky. The stars were bright and beautiful, and the empty, black space looked strangely inviting. She’d been sitting there for just under an hour, since she arrived back at the homestead after fleeing the festival—and the fire.

  Now that she was away from the blaze, and had had time to calm down, Amy felt an incredible sadness. She was sure that her behavior had caused a scene at the festival, and she regretted that, yet again, she’d disappointed Joshua. This might be the final straw, she told herself, crying.

  Just then, Amy heard a rustling from beside the porch and turned to see Joshua approaching. He was on foot and had his hands behind his back, and was walking very slowly.

  “Your pie won first place in the contest,” he said, drawing closer. “I didn’t even know you’d entered. So, you can imagine my surprise when I heard your name called… And, you can imagine my embarrassment when I went up on the platform to claim your prize.”

  Joshua pulled his arm out from behind his back and held out his hand. A fancy, frilly, feminine thing dangled down from his thick, rough fingers, and it took Amy a moment to realize what it was.

  “It’s an apron,” Joshua said, stating what was now obvious.

  He stepped onto the porch and handed the apron to Amy, and she inspected it thoroughly. It was much more detailed and showier than any apron she’d ever worn before, and was the type of thing that one would wear when serving a holiday feast, rather than when preparing a daily supper.

  “It’s lovely,” Amy said, setting the apron down beside her. “But, it’s a small reward in light of all else.”

  Joshua sat down on the porch step, a suitable distance away from Amy. Although he respected her privacy, he felt compelled to ask her the one question that plagued his mind since she ran off.

  “What happened at the festival that made you flee?” he asked, bowing his head and hoping for an honest answer.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Amy responded. “All that matters is that I’ve disappointed you.”

  “Disappointed me?” Joshua asked. “Why would I be disappointed in you? What did you do? All I know is I saw you talking to a man, then you ran off.”

  “Yes,” Amy replied. “That is what happened, and it’s just one of the ways I disappointed you. First, I let one of your chickens lose; then, I spilled an entire pail of milk; then, I disapproved of the wedding dress you liked; and, now, I’ve gone and caused a scene at the festival.”

  “Oh, Amy,” Joshua said, smiling at her compassionately. “I don’t care about any of those things, except the last one. But, I wouldn’t say you caused a scene so much as that you roused my concern… I want to know why you fled after talking to that man.”

  “It had nothing to do with him,” Amy answered. “It had to do with the fire.”

  Joshua wanted to believe her, but it seemed far-fetched to him that anyone would have such a response to a jolly bonfire.

  “There’s something I must tell you,” Amy said, leaning forward. Joshua felt a lump form in his throat, and he prepared himself for the worst.

  “Just over a year ago,” Amy began, “when I lived in Boston with my parents, I came home one night to find the tenements on fire. My parents were trapped inside, and I went in to try and save them. But, I was too late, and I saw them killed in the fire.”

  “Dear God,” Joshua said without even knowing. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s not all of it,” Amy continued. “When I went in to save them, a beam fell on me and pinned me to the ground. A large portion of my body was burned very badly, and my body is now riddled with terrible scars—and, I’ve been terrified by large fires ever since.”

  Joshua nodded his head and considered all that Amy had told him in light of what he’d witnessed, and experienced, since her arrival. He thought of the mark he saw on her neck at the train station; of similar marks he thought he saw right before she spilled the milk; of her habit of wearing thick, long-sleeved, burdensome clothing; and, of the dress she preferred in the store window—and it all made sense to him now.

  “We all have scars,” Joshua said, trying to comfort and reassure Amy.

  “But, you haven’t seen mine,” Amy replied. “They’re—”

  “I have,” Joshua interrupted. “I have seen them—at the train station, and when you were mil
king the cow on Thursday. I’ve seen them, and I don’t mind them at all.”

  “But you haven’t seen them fully,” Amy retorted. “You only saw part of them, briefly.”

  Amy slowly began to unbutton her sleeves, and reluctantly pulled them up as far as they could go, just past her elbows. She raised her arms in the air, exposing the scars on the back of them, and turned her neck to the right, exposing that scar as well.

  “The rest of my arms are covered with them also, as is my entire back,” she said softly, waiting for Joshua to cringe or say something unfortunate.

  Joshua, however, said nothing—yet. Instead, he examined her scars with a blank look on his face. Then, that blank looked turned into a smile.

  “I’ve seen them fully now, at least as much as our morals will allow,” Joshua finally said, “and, still, I don’t mind them. In fact, if anything, I’m moved by them. They are a testament about you and all that you’ve been through. They are a symbol of the love you had for your parents, and they represent the pain you endured to try and save them—and, as such, they make you even more endearing, and more beautiful, to me.

  For a moment, Joshua thought about opening up to Amy just as she’d opened up to him. But, before he could say anything further, he saw the Millers’ carriage approaching and decided to bite back his tongue.

  Amy, on the other hand, did not stay silent. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been so embarrassed about these scars for so long. But, I should’ve known they wouldn’t bother you. I’ve seen how kind, caring, and patient you are with your animals, and I should’ve known you’d be even more considerate of a person. After seeing you on the ranch, I knew you’d make a great father to our children—but, I was too caught up in myself to realize that you’d also be a great husband.”

  Joshua sincerely appreciated Amy’s apology, but something else in her statement caught him off guard ad made his heart ache.

  “Did you say ‘children’?” he asked, hoping he’d heard her incorrectly, though he was sure he hadn’t.

  “Yes,” Amy replied, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to have children—two, maybe three, of them.”

  “Oh,” Joshua said. That lump in his throat was back again, and he labored to swallow it.

  “Joshua Fuller,” Portia shouted, sounding like a strict school marm again, “what on earth are you doing on my porch at this hour? The two of you aren’t married yet!”

  “My apologies,” Joshua said, rising to his feet. “I came here to check on Amy and give her, her prize.”

  “Well, now you’ve done that,” Portia said, pointing her finger. “So, be gone before someone catches sight of you and fills the town with gossip.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Joshua answered. There was much more he wanted to discuss with Amy, but he knew that Portia wouldn’t have it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, turning to Amy before turning away.

  “Until then,” Amy replied softly.

  That night, Amy was lulled to sleep by thoughts of Joshua’s sensitivity and acceptance, and she slept more soundly than she’d slept since the fire. Joshua, however, did not sleep a wink and remained haunted by their unfinished conversation.

  NINE

  The next morning, Amy woke refreshed and reinvigorated. She felt like a new woman and was full of self-confidence, pride, and courage, which, heretofore, were strengths she felt too weak to ever accomplish.

  Amy walked into the kitchen and greeted Portia warmly. Portia was curious as per her disposition, but didn’t ask about it since she didn’t want to pry and had something far more “fun” to discuss.

  “Are you ready for today?” Portia asked.

  Amy raised her eyebrow and cocked her head.

  “We go to the clothing merchant this morning,” Portia reminded her, “to get your wedding dress.” With all that had happened the night before, Amy forgot about her appointment, which was surprising, given how nervous she’d been about it. But, what was more surprising was that Amy was now no longer nervous. She was excited.

  After a modest breakfast, the women went to town and made a beeline to the clothing merchant. Once inside, Amy perused the clothing, while Portia made small talk with the old woman who ran the store.

  A few minutes later, Amy approached the owner and said she wanted to try on some wedding dresses, and she politely asked Portia if she would go elsewhere and let her have her privacy while doing so. She hadn’t yet told Portia about her scars and didn’t want to alarm her in public, but she justified her request in terms of keeping the dress she selected a secret.

  Portia willing agreed and left the store to take care of her other errands, and, once she was gone, Amy warned the owner about her scars before selecting three dresses to try on.

  After trying on each of the three dresses, Amy chose the one she wanted and charged it to Joshua’s account. The dress, however, was a little too loose and required minor alterations, which the owner assured Amy would be done well before her wedding on Friday.

  Amy left the clothing merchant and set out in search of Portia. Luckily, she didn’t have to look very long, and found Portia only two stores down, purchasing kibble. Portia was surprised to see Amy without a package, but Amy explained that her dress needed to be altered, and Portia’s concerns were calmed.

  The women ran a few other errands, then left town and headed for Joshua’s.

  Meanwhile, back at his ranch, Joshua paced back and forth on the floor of his house. He, too, had forgotten about Amy’s appointment at the clothing merchant and was wondering where she was and why she hadn’t shown up for her chores.

  Joshua had completed the morning milking on his own, and, though there was still plenty of work to be done, he was too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to do it. He’d been awake the whole night, remember, and his mind was burdened with heavy thoughts.

  Since leaving the Millers’ the night before, Joshua couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Amy and how it harkened back to his horrible experiences with Lucy. He’d vowed never to love again, but fell for Amy despite his reservations. But now, even though he felt very deeply for Amy, he had reservations again, based on their conversation—and, these reservations seemed insurmountable to him.

  Joshua had made up his mind and, against his heart, had decided that he had to have a very difficult discussion with Amy—and, as he paced back and forth across his floor, he practiced what he would say to her.

  He’d rehearsed his words for the umpteenth time, when he heard Amy and Portia approaching. He gazed out the window as the women dismounted their horses and deeply regretted the speech he was about to deliver.

  As soon as the women started off toward the grazing area, Joshua stepped out onto his porch and called out to them. “I’m over here,” he said. “And, I need to talk to you, Amy.”

  Amy smiled from ear to ear, and Joshua was set back by her beauty, but he held steady as she approached. Portia must have sensed his solemnity and, instead of following Amy, headed off to fill the troughs closest to the house.

  As Amy came nearer to Joshua, her heart fluttered. She was very excited to see him and couldn’t wait to tell him about her appointment with the clothing merchant. But, when she got close enough to see the stern look on his face, her excitement melted.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Joshua said, repeating the dialogue he’d rehearsed in his head, “and I’ve decided that, perhaps, it is best that we don’t marry. We both have our pasts and futures to think of, and, given each of our present positions, I don’t think we’re a suitable match.”

  Amy’s jaw dropped, and her heart sunk in her chest.

  “You are obviously still wounded by what happened to you in Boston, and I, too, have my hang-ups,” Joshua went on. “And, it seems that neither one of us is ready to move on—at least not yet, or not with each other—which isn’t such a bad thing, all things considered. You said you’re not accustomed to farm animals, and, even though you’ve learned a lot in the shor
t time you’ve been here, perhaps it’s best that you not dedicate your life to them. Perhaps there is something—and someone—else out there that’s more fitting for you.”

  Amy was speechless. There was much that she wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words. So, she just stood there, paralyzed in shock, as Joshua continued.

  “The next train for the east coast leaves tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “And, I’d like you to be on it… Leave Golden Gorge, and go back to your sister’s in New York—and, in time, I’m sure you’ll find a much better calling… and husband.”

  He’s getting rid of me, just like Audrey did, Amy told herself, still unable to say anything and express her feelings to Joshua. He’s had enough of me—and my scars—and wants nothing else to do with me. But, he doesn’t have the courage to admit it, so he’s grasping at straws for a reasonable explanation.

  Joshua looked at Amy and waited for a response. But, alas, he did not get one, at least not one that he expected.

  Without so much as a word to Joshua, Amy turned and walked away from the porch. “Portia,” she called out, begging her chaperone’s attention, “we have to leave now.”

  Portia looked back at her curiously and wanted more than anything to ask why. But, the disturbed look on Amy’s face—as well as Joshua’s—told her not to pry.

  “Very well,” Portia replied as she walked toward the carriage. The two women left and traveled back to Portia’s homestead in silence, and it wasn’t until they were in the house that Amy spoke again and told Portia what had happened. She told her everything, from the fire in Boston and her terrible scars to the bonfire in the town square and the conversation she had with Joshua the night before.

  “I just don’t understand,” Amy said, in closing. “Last night, he told me how beautiful I was, and I told him how I thought he’d make a wonderful husband and father. But, now, today, he’s dismissed me and told me he no longer wants to marry… It’s got to be because of my scars. But, why would he tell me they didn’t matter, if, in fact, they did?”