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

by Hope Sinclair

  After a few more minutes of looking at their new book, and some discussion of which tale would be read at bedtime that night, Grace’s stomach emitted a fearsome growl. She laughed, looked at Ester and said, “Can we have dinner now? I’m hungry.”

  “Of course! Will you help me make it?” Both sisters agreed enthusiastically. The three of them trooped into the kitchen, and as Ester started to pull ingredients from the pantry and the icebox, Gracie asked another question.

  “Are you going to stay forever?”

  Ester stopped for a quick moment, startled. She put a bowl on the table and turned to face Gracie, who was perched on the edge of a chair, her stocking feet swinging. “I’ll stay as long as you need me,” Ester told her. “Someday, you’ll be all grown up yourself, and then maybe you’ll be somebody’s nanny. How about that?”

  “I think Abigail would be a better nanny than me. She’s better at making other people follow rules.” Grace’s sweet face lit up with inspiration. “What if you and Mr. Jason got married? Then you really could be here forever!”

  “Grace!” Abigail exclaimed sharply. “You can’t just say stuff like that. Go wash your hands so you can help with dinner.” She watched her little sister scurry from the room with her hands on her hips. Then she rolled her eyes. “Honestly.”

  “She’s right,” Ester remarked. “You would make a wonderful nanny.”

  “Not as good as you,” said Abigail. “Besides, I want to be a schoolmarm. They’re like nannies, except they get to read more.”

  Ester laughed. Her heart was full of love. The rest of the day stretched out before her like a dream, and Grace’s words stuck in the back of her mind. She had never thought of marrying Jason, but here she was, standing in his kitchen, making dinner with his adopted children. Weren’t they already like a little family?

  SEVEN

  Trouble Comes Knocking

  A month rolled by, and then another. Jason, Ester, Abigail, and Grace fell into a simple, easy routine during the week, and on the weekends, they went into town together, or went for walks on Jason’s sizeable property. He told Ester that he had thoughts of building a barn and starting a horse farm; Grace had always wanted a pony. “If you’d like,” he said, “I’ll buy you a horse too, and I’ll teach you to ride.”

  Ester wasn’t sure. She loved all animals, and she’d never failed to be entranced by all the horses she saw in the city. The orphanage had no room or desire for pets of any kind, so she had never had the opportunity to keep one. The idea of her own horse was curiously thrilling, but she was wary of accepting such a significant gift from Jason. His interest in her had yet to wane, and she often found herself confused. Was he trying to court her? Did others suspect his intentions? What were his intentions, really? She was far too embarrassed to ask him outright, so they just continued on in a funny dance, as she tried her best to avoid the issue more or less entirely. She hadn’t forgotten Grace in the kitchen, suggesting a marriage was possible, and every so often, the idea tugged at her brain.

  But Ester was a particular girl. She spent so many lonely nights in the bedroom of her orphanage that she had time to plan out exactly what she wanted from life. And one of the things she wanted most was to marry a man purely for love and nothing else. That couldn’t be Jason.

  They’d never hinted at such a thing, let alone discussed it openly. As far as she knew, she was still just the live-in nanny, and he was still a busy banker whom she saw at mealtimes, on weekends, and sometimes in the evenings after the girls were in bed—but then, just rarely. He continued to shower her with kindness and take her with him into town, which she enjoyed. And he continued to make a real, sincere effort with both the children.

  Was he doing this for her? Or was he simply growing into the duties of a man entrusted with the care of his mentor’s greatest blessings? Perhaps it was a mix of both. Ester didn’t know. She tried not to think about it too much; it made her nervous to imagine that her future with Jason could change in any capacity. The house had irrevocably become her home, and she knew she would be devastated to leave it. So she kept Jason at a distance, for the sake of her employment, and potentially, for the sake of her heart. For a while, all was well.

  In Ester’s third month out West, however, the disaster that had been brewing unseen since the very first day finally boiled over. Jason had decided to go through with the barn project, and Ester and the girls were out walking the fields behind the house, determining the logistics of its placement. Ester was so charmed by their excitement that she almost didn’t notice the unfamiliar carriage sitting in the courtyard. Abigail saw it first, and when she did, her face darkened.

  “Miss Ester, look,” she said. “The man is back.”

  “What man?” Ester had forgotten Abigail’s story about the estate representative.

  “The one I told you about. Remember?”

  “Oh!” she said with a start. The memory came pouring back into her mind, and with it, a flood of old anxiety. She put on a brave smile, that was just as much for herself as it was for the children. “I’m sure it’s just a meeting. They have to check in sometimes, right?”

  “I guess.” Abigail did not look convinced. As they ascended the steps, she moved quietly so that she might catch a snatch of whatever conversation could be taking place inside. All three of them crept into the foyer like mice, looking around for any sign of Jason or the representative. Even Gracie, who didn’t know what was going on, knew something was afoot.

  The door to Jason’s study was closed—or at least, it looked closed. As Ester and the girls headed for the stairs, they heard a muffled exchange of voices coming from the room beyond. Ester ushered them up the steps. “Let’s stay up here for a while,” she whispered. “We don’t want to disturb them.” Her natural curiosity needled at her to sneak back down and eavesdrop, but she fiercely restrained the urge, knowing that she couldn’t keep either sister from following.

  They went into Abigail’s room, and Grace mercifully waited until the door was closed behind her before asking, “What are they talking about? Who’s here?”

  “It’s something about Granddaddy’s things,” Abigail said quickly. “He probably just wants to make sure Mr. Jason got them all.”

  “Oh.” Gracie thought for a moment. “Okay.” She went to her bookshelf and pulled down the storybook with both hands, cradling it against her chest. “Want to pick out a story for Ester to read?”

  Abigail glanced at the nanny, but then she gave Grace a smile, smoothing over the moment. “Sure,” she said. “Here, put it on the bed so we can both see.”

  Ester sat quietly beside them as they looked through the now-familiar collection of stories, pretending to listen to their girlish conversation. She had her head turned to the side, ears straining to pick up the thread of the voices in Jason’s study. Once or twice, she thought she heard something, but it was never anything decipherable. Then Gracie was tugging at her sleeve, pushing the heavy book into her lap. “Can you read this one?” she said. “I can help a little. We’re starting to learn bigger words.” Ester forced herself to clear her brain and channel all her focus into the two sweet, loving little girls in front of her, who were deserving of every ounce of her attention.

  Grace fell asleep during the story, worn out from sun and traipsing across the acres of field. Ester tucked her in, and Abigail decided to lie down with her and close her eyes for a while. “Come get me,” she whispered to Ester. “I don’t want to sleep too long.”

  “I will,” Ester promised. She tiptoed out of the room, both so that Gracie would stay asleep, and so that no one else would hear her, in case the estate representative was still in the house. He wasn’t; she came downstairs to Jason sitting on the sofa in the living room, staring at nothing. “Jason?” she asked. He looked up and she put a finger to her lips. “The girls are napping.”

  Jason nodded. He motioned for her to sit, which she did. He took a deep breath, and he said, “Someone is accusing me of inappropriate conduct
with a member of my staff.”

  Ester blinked, confused. His meaning dawned on her slowly, painting her face with an expression of pure shock. “With me?” She put a hand to her heart.

  “I’m sorry. I mean, you know it’s not true.” He looked sad, and a little frightened. “But the estate isn’t happy. I was told that if I don’t rectify the situation immediately, I’ll be considered in violation of their terms, and I’ll lose everything.”

  Ester felt her world crumbling around her. Everything she had worked for, everything that had redefined her life, was on the verge of slipping away. She was too stunned to even cry. “How do we fix it?” she asked numbly. “Can we?”

  Jason watched her for a second with an inscrutable look in his eyes. “There’s one way I can think of,” he said quietly. “Honestly, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.” He paused and took a deep breath before he continued.

  “You changed my life, Ester. I had no idea who I was before I met you. I thought I could find everything I’d ever need in life at the bank, or in the investment papers. You showed me I was wrong.” He reached across the table and took her hand off her lap, holding it gently in his. “If you say yes, it will solve all these problems. We can go back to living exactly the way that we have been—but we’ll be husband and wife.” He hesitated. “Will you marry me?”

  Ester gasped slightly. All the thoughts she’d had about marrying Jason flew in a hurricane through her head. She thought of Grace in the kitchen, first latching on to the idea. She thought of all the times he’d called her pretty, or said she was sweet. And she decided, in the space of half a moment, that she couldn’t be sure if Jason Denver loved her; not if this was the first time he’d ever mentioned wanting her to be his wife. Love was a thing that grew like a flower, not a thing that arrived at a moment’s notice. And if he couldn’t bother to do more than flirt like a schoolboy with the woman he wanted to marry, then he wasn’t the one for her. She held fast to her ideals.

  “I’m sorry, Jason,” she said. “I can’t.”

  Her refusal hung between them. He let go of her hand, nodded, looked away. “I understand,” he said. “In that case, I’ll need to sort some things out at the bank. You don’t mind?”

  “No, of course not.” She paused. “Will you be home for dinner?”

  “Tonight, yes,” he said. “But maybe not some nights in the future. Could be some long hours coming up.” They stood up at the same time, he cleared his throat, and then they went their separate ways: he to the front door of the house, she upstairs to wake her sleeping angels. Something in Ester’s heart seemed vaguely hollow. She told herself firmly that it was nothing.

  EIGHT

  Rumors

  If Ester had hoped that the rumors surrounding her and Jason Denver would peter out without substantiation, as he had originally said they would, she was sorely mistaken. During the following weeks, the rumor mill churned at a fever pitch. Every day, Jason told her something new that he had heard: that his investments were failing, so he had resorted to gambling, or that she had insisted the girls call her their mother. Someone had even claimed that Jason was trying to assume Sam Hartwood’s identity.

  “How would I do that?” Jason exclaimed to no one in particular, in a burst of frustration. “Everyone and their mother knows he’s been dead for months!” He stormed into the study and shut the door hard, clicking the lock into place.

  Ester was just as bewildered as he was. All she could think about was the gaggle of women who had sneered at her in the store, what felt like decades ago. Now, that sentiment was reflected in the majority of faces she encountered when she went into town to do the shopping. People stared at her on the street, peered at her out of shop windows, whispered in clusters as she passed. She didn’t bother to try to figure out what they were saying; she’d decided she didn’t want to know. The only thing that mattered to her was what would happen to Grace and Abigail. There was one kernel of truth in the slander: she had come to think of the girls as her own, and she was prepared to do whatever it took to keep them.

  But to do that, she needed Jason’s help, and Jason had stopped helping. True to his word, he missed dinner on several nights, and he seemed withdrawn from her. Their conversations were often clipped, a far cry from the engaging, laugh-filled discussions they used to have. There was no family time anymore—just she and the girls puttering around the house, doing chores together or practicing their schoolwork. Ester could tell that the two little girls were confused and unhappy, and she could hardly blame them. Just a few weeks earlier, life had been idyllic. Now it was a shadow of itself.

  Briefly, she’d thought that maybe she ought to have accepted Jason’s proposal, for the sake of Grace and Abigail. But she knew that what it would have spared them, she would have taken on as her own suffering, and Ester valued herself as much as she valued anyone else. She had come much too far to go back to settling for a life she never would have chosen if she thought she had a choice. And yet, seeing those despondent young faces each morning and night tore at her heart. What she wouldn’t give to make things better!

  Then one afternoon, Jason came home early, while the three girls were making dinner. He called hello to them from the hall, popped his head in and waved with a big smile. Ester’s heart lifted. It was the afternoon of Gracie’s seventh birthday, and they were making a cake for dessert. She’d been hoping they could spend at least this special occasion together again.

  Jason went upstairs to the master bedroom. He was there for quite a long time; they could hear him walking back and forth between the main chamber and his attached washroom. The pump squeaked as he drew water. “Is he taking a bath?” Abigail wondered incredulously. “How strange.”

  Half an hour later, as Gracie’s cake was baking, Jason descended the staircase dressed in a suit, his hair carefully combed. He smelled of cologne. The women heard him and left the kitchen to stare at him in bafflement. “What are you doing?” Ester said. She hadn’t intended to take Grace anywhere fancy for her celebration; indeed, Grace herself had asked if they could eat and bake her cake together. She wanted the four of them to spend time as they used to, and that was Ester’s plan.

  Jason had a different schedule. “I’m going out for evening supper.” he told them. “With Miss Charlotte Lewis. She’s a widow and a valued customer of the bank.” He walked past them, extracted his jacket from the closet by the door, and put it on. “Don’t wait up. I’m sure I’ll be home past your bedtime.” Then he was out the door and gone, ensconced in a waiting carriage. As soon as the silence had settled in his wake, poor little Gracie began to cry. Immediately, Ester and Abigail moved to console her, but they were stung too. Ester wondered if Jason had done it on purpose, but she soon decided that as distant as he had chosen to be, he wouldn’t be so cruel. Clearly he had reverted to the absentminded, uninvolved figure he had been when she arrived—and that was bitterly disappointing.

  Grace’s birthday dinner and cake turned out perfectly. Ester and Abigail tried their best to make the little one feel as loved as possible, but she barely smiled all night. By the time her bedtime rolled around, even Abigail was exhausted from the effort, and she too retired to her room. Ester washed the dishes before returning upstairs. She undressed, got into bed, and pulled the blankets up to her chin, willing herself not to cry.

  NINE

  Never Say Never

  The next morning, Ester awoke early, her brain still foggy with sleep. She made herself get up and ready anyway, then trudged downstairs to start breakfast. The last thing she expected was to encounter Jason at the table, drinking a cup of strong black coffee and reading the newspaper. She stopped in the doorway to think about what she should do. Reprimand him for his selfishness? Demand that he apologize to Grace? She wasn’t awake enough for either of those things, so she just uttered a greeting and went to the pot of coffee to pour herself a cup.

  Jason closed the paper and watched her take a long sip. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,�
�� he said. Ester eyed him over the rim. “For yesterday, and all the days before that. I haven’t handled this correctly.”

  “I think that’s true,” she said. “Yesterday was Grace’s birthday. Did you know that?”

  He winced. “It’s on my calendar. I saw it marked there this morning, and I just...I felt awful. Will she forgive me?”

  Ester folded her arms and stared at him. She sighed. “Jason, of course she’ll forgive you. You just have to look at her. You know Grace.” She frowned. “But that doesn’t mean it was right of you. And I can’t speak for Abigail.”

  “I know.” He stared into the depths of his cup. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve just gone and undone all that work you did on my behalf.” He took a deep breath. “I found out a few weeks ago that Eric Savage was in town, and his posse probably still is. You remember him?”

  Ester furrowed her brow. The name rang a bell. “Mr. Hartwood’s brother?”

  Jason nodded. “Every time he’s here, he’s always got to stir up some mud. He had a real big problem with his brother being the successful one, and an even bigger problem with not being able to make any money off it once Sam was gone.” Jason shook his head. “I never imagined he’d take it this far. I should have told you sooner.”

  “Told me what?” Ester watched him warily.

  “He’s the one who’s been spreading the rumors about us in town. He’s trying to get me disinherited so that the estate will default to him—and the girls.” Jason grimaced. “I’ve been told that he planned to sell them as indentured servants. He never really took to any children at all, much less his own nieces.”