The Unexpected Bride (The Brides Book 1)
Page 23
“It’s no mansion,” he said, with a self-deprecating smile. “But there’s a real barn.” He pointed to a large wood-beam structure behind the cabin. “And we’ve got an indoor pump, and one of those indoor necessaries.”
“That’s lovely.” She teased him with her eyes and looped her arm through his. “Almost as lovely as my birthday present. I still don’t know how you got Dr. Sawyer to part with my old rifle.”
“He has a soft spot for you, I think. Plus, I convinced him that gun was sized just right for you.” He took her hands in his and squeezed lightly, guiding her gaze to the new cabin. “So, you like my surprise?” he asked, obviously fishing.
She nodded and squeezed his hands back. “I love it. And—and I have a surprise for you too,” she said in a little singsong voice.
“Do you now?” His eyes twinkled.
“It’s a good thing you made the cabin plenty big...”
His smile wavered, and his dark brown eyes grew serious. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Are you going to be happy about it?”
He grinned and swung her up in his arms, spinning her around. Holding her aloft, he jumped up onto the front porch.
“Isaac!” she protested, as her feet dangled uselessly off the ground. She squirmed. “Put me down.”
He simply hitched her more securely into his arms, looping his arm under her legs and cradling her to his chest. She immediately stopped protesting and snuggled in close. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad being carried, just this once. It was almost like she was a new bride and he was the groom. As if they’d just come from repeating their vows.
Now there was a thought she hadn’t considered until now...
“I think it’s time to show you the rest of your new home,” Isaac said. “And I think you’ll especially appreciate the rug in front of the fireplace.” He carried her inside and set her on her feet.
She took a few steps forward and turned in a slow circle, a smile splitting her face.
It was perfect. Wide pine floors, heavy beams, all in earthy tones of caramel-gold and brown. Warm and welcoming. There was a generous kitchen area to one side, with a big red cast-iron cook stove. Cabinets and shelves that went from floor to ceiling. An ice box. And a great big kitchen table with eight wood chairs and an extra bench sitting against one wall—so she guessed they’d be entertaining a fair bit. Plenty of room for Pop to come visit. Plenty of room for children some day.
She rested her hand on the back of a soft-looking sofa—not some stiff settee like the Pearsons’, but one with a sturdy wood frame and deep leather cushions and a couple of fluffy red pillows. A pretty quilt in red, gold, and evergreen—stitched in a spiky star-pattern—hung over the back.
That certainly looked cozy.
“Oh,” Becky whispered, turning once again, all too aware that Isaac was watching her with an air of expectation, his stance proud—like he owned the place, of course.
Her eyes reluctantly left his, and she turned her gaze to the best part of all: a big bear rug spread out over the wood floor between two comfy looking rush-seat rocking chairs. Side-by-side rockers. It looked like the perfect place to stretch out after a long day and warm your toes in front of that big stone fireplace against the far wall.
Warm. Homey.
Isaac had outdone himself.
“Anyone I know?” she asked, nodding at the rug. A little giggle escaped her lips as she sidled over to Isaac and bumped her shoulder against his arm.
“The same.” He paused and looked down at her. “I like having a reminder that you ‘saved my hide.’”
“You can’t know how glad I am that you don’t mind me being a complete hoyden.” With a contented sigh, Becky slipped her arms around his waist and tugged him close.
“I wouldn’t want you any other way.” He chuckled and with the slightest nudge of his boot, kicked the front door shut.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I was intrigued by the true story of Asa Mercer, who was rather loosely the inspiration for my Melrose Preston. Two hundred women, with hopes of employment or marriage, sailed with him around the tip of South America and up the West Coast to Washington Territory in 1866.
I was also inspired by the Bible story of Isaac and Rebekah. Genesis 24 tells the tale of an aging Abraham, who sends a trusted servant back to his homeland to get a wife for his son Isaac. The servant goes and prays for God to reveal just the right girl to him. He meets Rebekah at the well, and when he asks her for a drink, she gives it to him and brings water for his camels as well. This is the sign he had prayed for. So, amazingly, Rebekah leaves her family to go with this stranger, the servant of their kinsman Abraham, and becomes the wife of Isaac. “Then the servant told Isaac all he had done. Isaac brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he married Rebekah. So she became his wife, and he loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.” —Genesis 24:66-67 (NIV) The story always struck me as intriguing and somewhat romantic. Then at some point it occurred to me that Rebekah was a very early example of a “mail-order” bride, but not.
Finally, I’ve quoted from the New International Version of the Bible within the story even though this translation was unavailable in the time of my Isaac and Rebecca (1866). I request the reader’s latitude in this, as I’ve used this version solely as a matter of personal preference—for readability and because it’s the version I’m most familiar with.
—Lena Goldfinch
ALSO BY LENA GOLDFINCH
THE BRIDES
The Unexpected Bride (The Brides Book 1)
ROMANCE FOR ADULTS & TEENS
Songstone
Aire
The Language of Souls
BOOKS FOR TEENS
Haunting Joy
Chain Reaction: A Short Story (Prequel to Haunting Joy)
Haunting Melody (Sequel to Haunting Joy)—Coming Soon
Take a Picture : A Novelette
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LENA GOLDFINCH writes sweet historical romance and books for teens. She’s always been a sucker for a good old-fashioned romance, whether it’s a novel or short story, young adult or adult, fantasy or realistic, contemporary or historical. Lena has been a finalist in several national writing contests, including the RWA Golden Heart and ACFW Genesis contests. She enjoys life in a quiet, small-town with her husband, two kids, and a very spoiled Black Lab.
You can reach me at Lena@LenaGoldfinch.com or visit me at www.LenaGoldfinch.com.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my mom and dad, and sister and brother—and to all my family and friends, with love and appreciation for your support and encouragement.
To my editor, Amber Stokes, for your excellent editing skills, your long-distance friendship, and the many ways you help with my writing and publishing. Much appreciation!
To Kim Hanson for your expert eagle eyes for catching “dings” in a manuscript, for your friendship, support of my writing, and encouragement. Thanks!
To Eliza and Evan for encouraging me to keep writing. Lots of love!
And last, but far from least, to my wonderful husband, Paul. You are my biggest support. With all my love.
DEDICATION
For Paul, my love.
For Jeane—Mom, Nana—our love forever and always.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
The Unexpected Bride
COPYRIGHT © 2014
Charlene Goldfinch Glatkowski
All scripture quotations are from THE HOLY BIBLE: NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ® (NIV ®) © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica. All rights reserved worldwide. See Author’s Note.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoeve
r without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Published by Indigo Road Publishing
info@indigoroad.pub
Cover images: ©Veve Soran (Mountain Cabin) | ©Ewa Mazur (Horse)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ALSO BY LENA GOLDFINCH
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
DEDICATION
<<<>>>
Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ALSO BY LENA GOLDFINCH
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
DEDICATION