Mail Order Brides Collection Boxed Set: Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica, Books 3-6 (Montana Mail Order Brides Series)

by Rose Jenster

  “Best send a wire then. A mother is likely to worry herself to death waiting weeks for word,” he advised.

  “Of course, you’re right. Where is the telegraph office then?”

  “It is in the post office,” he said, opening the door for her.

  “How convenient!” Jessica said approvingly.

  As she filled out the yellow form with the stubby pencil at the counter, the postmaster asked her name.

  “Jessica Donnelly, sir,” she said, “I’m new to Billings.”

  “I see that, miss. I ask because I’ve a message awaiting you. A wire came through yesterday and I held it at the desk as I had no knowledge of such a person in town.”

  “A message for me?” she said, bewildered.

  Taking the telegram, she read it and felt her fingers go cold as she held it.

  Father on way to Billings to fetch you STOP England is best for you no more hasty choices young lady STOP Wait there and behave yourself STOP

  Jessica caught the edge of the counter for support. Lane had been looking at the Wanted posters on the wall idly as he waited for her but he was at her side at once, taking her elbow, helping her to a chair.

  “Are you well?”

  “I—“ she shook her head and handed him the telegram in explanation, unable to look at him as he read it.

  “On the bright side, she doesn’t sound sick with worry,” Lane said, trying to make light of it.

  “Mr. Lane?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you truly take in strays? Animals in need?”

  “Indeed I do.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Very much. I would not like to give it up.”

  If I’m married when Father arrives, he can’t very well force me to return to New York and get on a boat fo“Good,” she said. “What do you say to taking in a stray this very moment? If I’m married when Father arrives, he can’t very well force me to return to New York and get on a boat for the English marriage market, now can he?”

  Jessica got to her feet, resolve in her every gesture. She offered the sheriff her hand.

  “I’ll make you a good wife and be quite respectable, if you’ll be an honorable husband and do me the favor of giving me your name. I don’t want to go home in disgrace. I don’t want to be parted from my parents forever, which a foreign marriage would likely cause. Here, I can visit them perhaps once a year by rail and make a life of my own without the trouble of getting used to another country and their ways and a man who only wants my fortune. You could save me from all that. I know from your letters that you’re a man who likes to rescue helpless creatures,” she said.

  “I can’t say I’ve ever met any creature on God’s earth less helpless than yourself, Jessica Donnelly,” he said with a shake of his head. But he was grinning when he said it. It was a real, genuine smile.

  “Do you like my plan?” she ventured softly.

  “It isn’t what I expected, but truth is I expected to live alone with my animals and a lodger all my days, so it’s bound to be an improvement.”

  “I won’t cost you a penny and I won’t disgrace you as I did my parents,” she vowed.

  “You listen to me, Jessica—“ he took her by the arms right there in the post office, “you disgraced no one, least of all yourself, when you tried to help your faithless friend back in New York. You’ve a good heart and I could do far worse for a wife than a woman who took on the grief of a ruined reputation to spare her friend. I won’t do you the dishonor of professing that I love you, because I haven’t known you long enough. But I like you very much and I’ll marry you today if you’ll have me.” Lane spoke straight from his heart.

  “I will. This very moment even. Although I wish you left out the part about not loving me. I don’t expect you to love me yet, but a girl doesn’t like to hear that sort of thing,” she said with a nervous giggle.

  Lane took her in his arms then and kissed her. Astonished, she forgot to close her eyes. She felt color creep into her pale cheeks as she heard the postal clerk gasp in horror at the public display.

  “There. I’ve disgraced us both. I had better get you to the church now, hadn’t I? Shame I couldn’t be respectable and court you properly,” he said with mischief in his eyes.

  Jessica blushed and felt happy inside. She liked Lane's mischievous side and also knew he respected her.

  Lane took her hand in his and led her down the main street toward the church. He stopped in at the newspaper office and bellowed for Frank.

  “Frank, send your wife over to the reverend’s house. There’s about to be a wedding and we need someone to stand up for my bride,” Lane said.

  “What is the meaning of this? I’ve a paper to get out, you know. Couldn’t you go round getting married on a day when the edition isn’t running late?” Frank demanded.

  Lane laughed heartily. “Jessica Donnelly, I’d like you to meet my friend Frank, the misanthropic newspaperman. You’ll like his wife, if he’ll quit bellyaching and send her over.”

  A woman with a small boy on her hip rushed out of the back room, wiping a smear of grease off her face and wresting a wrench from the child.

  “Got the press running again, Frank. Who’s this?”

  “You know Sheriff Lane,” Frank said.

  “I’m Charlotte. I’m married to this grouchy character. Is there any way I can help you or has he already frightened you off?” She smiled and looked with curiosity at Lane's pretty companion.

  “I’m Jessica Donnelly. I’m about to get married and Lane said that—“ she faltered, “that you might stand up for me. It was, I think, your husband’s idea that Lane place an ad…”

  “Wonderful! I think our good sheriff made a better bargain than you did, my dear,” she teased Frank. “Look at her, all fine and mannerly. You should have held out for a higher quality bride!”

  “I like the one I got just fine,” Frank said. He took the child from her and kissed the top of his head affectionately. “You go on and play bridesmaid. I’ll mind the little one.”

  Charlotte hurried out after Lane and Jessica, only to turn and call to a woman across the street emerging from the milliner’s shop.

  “Verity! Come quick! There’s about to be a wedding and we can stand as bridesmaids. She’s another one of us from the matrimonial papers. Only think my Frank himself made the match himself!” Charlotte beamed with pride in her husband.

  The pretty young woman crossed the street and introduced herself as Charlotte’s cousin, recently wed to the blacksmith in town.

  “I'm Verity and was a teacher! What were you before you answered an ad? It’s all terribly romantic, isn’t it?” Verity said, feeling a bond with Jessica.

  “I wasn’t anything really. I went to balls and tea visits and—“

  “Oh! You’re society then! How exciting!” Verity linked her arm through Jessica’s,. “You must have flowers then. I’ll go fetch some!”

  “I’m the groom. Let me get the flowers. You ladies do whatever it is women do to prepare for a wedding,” Lane said, excusing himself.

  “Your sheriff did a great service to my Adam and myself when I was first here. He helped us out when we had some trouble. I knew with such a lawman on the job and my Adam to protect me that I had nothing to fear. Lane is right serious about keeping order in this town,” Verity said.

  “Maybe not as serious as Dewey. Have you met Dewey yet? He’s the deputy and he’s a little…overzealous about arresting people,” Charlotte said. “He even threatened to put Frank in jail overnight for inciting disturbance. He wasn’t inciting anything. He’s just grumpy by nature.”

  “Dewey would run a tight ship,” Verity agreed. “He's much stricter than necessary. I taught at a girls’ school where strictness was an art form.”

  “Here, this is something you may use as your something borrowed,” Charlotte offered, taking a ribbon from her hair. “It’s blue so it counts for two charms.”

  “I’ve something old here. It was my
mother’s originally,” Verity said.

  “Speaking of mothers, you must invite yours out in spring. That’s when my mother is coming for a visit. She was to come a few months ago, but my brother and his wife are expecting their first child. She didn’t want to miss that. It will be lovely to have her visit next year,” Charlotte said.

  “Have you been to see your family since you moved here?” Jessica was curious about how much they travel east.

  “No, but I didn’t have much affection for where I grew up,” Charlotte admitted, “Frank wouldn’t mind my going for a bit. I am thinking about it.”

  “Are you thinking of having a family with Lane?” Verity knew this was a personal question, but she couldn't resist.

  “I only got here yesterday and I only just met him this morning,” Jessica confessed.

  “Well, that is quick! But, I suppose answering such an ad is an impulsive decision. None of us wasted too much time getting married once we arrived,” Verity said with a wink.

  “Thank you for waiting with me. I’m a bit nervous now that it's getting closer.” Jessica bit her lip, but caught herself swiftly and stopped.

  “Lane’s a good sort. No nonsense about him,” Charlotte told her.

  Jessica nodded and followed them to the rectory where they introduced her to the minister’s wife. She fussed over her and clucked over her pretty lace cuffs.

  “You’ll have to meet Leah. She does tatting. Makes the prettiest lace you ever saw,” the minister’s wife said with approval.

  “Oh yes, Leah is such a wonderful lady. Her husband owns the inn and stables,” Verity said.

  “I think Lane was just there, stabling some horses after the barn fire.”

  “We’ll introduce you to Leah this week. But first you have to get married and move out of Mrs. Hostelman’s, right?” Verity seemed to know the routine.

  “Exactly. Priorities,” Jessica smiled. She felt comforted by the presence of these three experienced woman who were attending to her.

  Lane entered the room with a handful of flowers, their roots dangling from the long stems. Jessica wanted to laugh. He must have yanked them from a nearby field with a great deal of force indeed. She accepted them, rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Jessica had a dream of him bringing her wildflowers. It might not be the way she dreamed, but flowers were flowers. She was very happy to see him.

  Until he returned, she didn't realize that part of her, in the back of her mind, was afraid he wouldn’t come back. There had been a fear which she didn't acknowledge that he might change his mind and decide he didn’t want to marry her so hastily. Maybe even that he didn’t wish to marry her at all. She knew that she had been a bit demanding since the moment she first wired him requesting three letters at once. It was possible that some gentlemen might find that too pushy. So, the sight of him relaxed her.

  Jessica didn’t feel a stir of butterflies in her stomach. The stars didn’t go dim (it was midafternoon) nor did an eclipse blot out the sun. If one trusted the classical poets, this was surely evidence she wasn’t in love. And yet the fact that he was honorable, kept his word and turned up for her when she needed him most was far more romantic than a neatly trimmed bouquet or a well-timed thunderstorm to announce his arrival.

  Lane tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and they stood before the minister. Verity and Charlotte smiled at Jessica encouragingly. She was glad they stood up for her in what felt like solidarity, living proof that this leap she was about to take would have a soft landing after all.

  The vows were exchanged and an errand boy dispatched to Mrs. Hostelman’s to fetch her belongings. The minister’s wife insisted they stay to have a slice of cake and celebrate. She had just finished frosting a dried apple cake for the reverend’s after dinner treat. Thoughtfully, she cut generous wedges of it and passed it round to the bride and groom and her attendants. They sat companionably around the good woman’s dining table and Jessica felt her eyes grow damp at the kindness she had been shown.

  “You must join our weekly sewing circle, Mrs. Lane,” Verity said pointedly. Jessica blushed at her new title as if on cue. Lane pressed her hand beneath the table and she smiled.

  “I fear I don’t know much useful sewing. I can do all sorts of embroidery and fancywork but it’s not very practical.”

  “We’ll learn from one another,” Verity assured her,.“That’s the wonderful thing about the circle. We all have different talents to share.”

  “Yes, do join us, dear,” the minister’s wife said with encouragement.

  Jessica nodded her agreement, feeling very welcome in her new community with such kind ladies offering to include her.

  They finished up their cake and took their leave. Lane led her to the boarding house to explain to Mrs. Hostleman the situation. In fact, she was arguing with the errand boy about Jessica’s trunk.

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Hostelman. We’ve been married sooner than expected so my things are going to my new home. It’s all settled.”

  “After one day’s acquaintance?” Mrs. Hostelman fanned herself with a handkerchief. “If you’d marry so quickly it would be best you got to know each other more before you move out to his house!” She protested with genuine concern in her voice.

  “Now, we would have preferred a longer courtship, but my father is on his way even now and I—“ she dropped her voice to a confidential whisper, “fear he might insist upon annulling my marriage to Mr. Lane if he suspected any mischief. If he thinks it isn’t a match of affection or that we don’t really live together, he’d have grounds to take me to England and marry me off to some stranger. There can be no question that we’re truly man and wife. Don’t you see?”

  “I do see now. If there’s relations who want to drag you overseas and marry you to some foreigner, why, you must go to your husband’s home at once! Don’t you worry, we won’t let anyone take you to England. You’re going to stay in Billings right and proper. I knew it as soon as I saw you.” Mrs. Hostelman patted her shoulder encouragingly and then looked beyond Jessica as if searching for the disapproving father so she could give him a piece of her mind.

  “He won’t arrive for several days. By then I hope he will be calm enough to see reason, and to accept that I’m starting a new life out West. Thank you for being so good to me, Mrs. Hostelman. I do hope to have you to dinner once we’re settled in. Well, I should say, once I learn to cook!” she said with a smile.

  Mrs. Hostelman embraced her and Jessica rejoined her husband. Shyly she walked beside him as he led her across to another street. They reached the wide porch of a tall and quite nice home. It wasn’t the modest boxy style of the rectory or the slapdash three story building of Mrs. Hostelman’s which was build for efficiency with the narrow halls and small rooms.

  While it was hardly in the style of her family’s stone mansion in Rochester, it was certainly a lovely place with wide doorways and spacious rooms. There was a flowered carpet in the main room and an ormolu clock on the mantle. She went to it immediate because it reminded her of her mother’s clock. The time was wrong and she looked at Lane questioningly. He joined her at the mantle, took a small key and wound the clock himself. Then he smiled at her and bent to kiss her, welcoming her home.

  The next day, Lane went to work and left Jessica to explore her new home. She busily hung her lace curtains from home and put out her china tea set with the pink sprigged design. One of her mother’s watercolor paintings went on the wall. It was the one that had always hung next to her own reading chair in her bedroom. It was a pretty seascape from up the Massachusetts coast and it always made her feel at home.

  Jessica knelt to check on the sleeping fawn and found herself talking to the big hound that seemed to live in the kitchen. For luncheon, she tried her hand at cooking and managed to make a fairly good egg dish. It would have been better with crisp spinach and a bit of that French cheese she was so fond of, but she was, after all, roughing it out on the frontier. A little deprivation gave it a flavor of adve
nture.

  * * *

  When Lane returned home, he probably expected to find dinner ready and waiting. What he found instead was his new wife asleep on the settee by the fireplace with a book beside her. The hound was across her legs with her hand resting on his head. As it turned out, a woman with three inches of lace at her hem seemed to get on just fine with his animals.

  Lane went out back, killed a chicken and fried it up without waking her. When he set the hound’s food in a dish, the dog jumped up and scrambled toward it, jostling Jessica in the process and waking her. She sat up, trying in one motion to smooth her hair and keep her book from falling to the floor. Blinking rapidly as if confused, she got to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. Lane was putting chicken and fried potatoes on two plates.

  “You’ve made dinner!” she said.

  “I also have peaches,” Lane said. He pulled a tin of peaches from a bag on the table to show her. “They’re about my favorite dessert and I thought you’d like to try them.”

  “I really would. This looks wonderful. Thank you.”

  They sat and joined hands to say the blessing. The dog began barking and lunged toward the door just before they heard a knock.

  Lane answered the door and found Mr. Satterfield there.

  “I came by to thank you for all you did trying to save our place, Lane. You’re a good man. We’ve talked it over and we’ve got people back East. We’re selling up and moving to Missouri. I’ve left the horses with Henry to sell and I know he’ll get us a fair price for them. But I want to give you one of the horses. Have your pick. For all you did for us, saving them and working for hours to stop the fire from taking our house and—we can never thank you enough,” the man said.

  “That isn’t necessary, Norman. It’s the work of the fire brigade, not just myself. I’m sorry to hear you’re leaving, but I wish you luck out in Missouri.”

  “Please accept the horse as—a wedding gift then,” Mr. Satterfield said with a sad smile. The two men shook hands and Mr. Satterfield put his hat back on and left.

  “Care to go see the horses tomorrow? Can’t say I’m overly fond of the beasts after what happened to my wife. I mean my first wife. That sounds so strange to say it that way, Jessica,” he said.