The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

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The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels Page 84

by Sandee Keegan


  Celia gasped, and began to cry. Joshua looked at Emily with despair in his eyes. She looked all around her. It seemed that nothing was left. She heard a crunch of glass behind her and spun around. A lean, well-dressed man picked his way through the damaged goods and stood just out of Joshua’s reach.

  “Oh, Prentis.” The man drawled, his voice dripping with false compassion. “This is terrible. You have my condolences.” He leaned forward and spoke softly enough that Emily could just make out his words. “Given our history and your character, I will gladly give you an extra day or two to pay your rent to me. As a friend, of course.” Joshua leaped forward, enraged. Emily sidestepped out of the way and two burly men moved up to flank the first.

  “Damn you, Livingston.” Joshua ground out in a harsh whisper. “Get out of my store.” Gregory Livingston smirked and turned his back on Joshua, appraising Emily as he strode past her. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. She flushed with embarrassment at the sound of his laughter as he walked away.

  Joshua limped and slid on the glass as her tried to go after Livingston. Emily and Celia simultaneously reached out for him. The naked fear in their eyes stopped him cold, and he straightened up and brushed himself off.

  “This was not how it was supposed to be, Emily.” Joshua said in a harsh whisper. “I have nothing for you, now.” He motioned at the destruction all around him. “You’d be better off going back to New York, and no one will blame you for it.” I wanted to give you everything, and now… He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from her. Emily seethed at his dismissal. She grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

  “See here, Captain Prentis.” Emily struggled to open the little drawstring purse on her wrist. “You wait just one moment before you throw away everything you want or need or love.” She gave up on the purse and looked straight into his eyes. “Don’t you dare give up, do you hear me?” She picked her way out of the glass and fabric and exited the store, stopping to ask a bystander a question before pushing her way back out through the crowd.

  Celia and Joshua began to pick up the cloth and clear away the mess. Soon Millie joined them and the three set to work in earnest. Joshua was too unhappy to notice that Emily had not returned by the time the fabric was all piled in the storage room and Celia and Millie were sweeping up glass. Just as the shop began to look useable again, Livingston stormed through the door and confronted Joshua waving a paper in his face.

  “Just how did you manage to come up with this money?” He demanded of Joshua. He was red-faced and spittle hit Joshua in the face as Gregory raged at him.

  “What money?” Joshua asked. Livingston shoved the paper in his face. It was a bank statement, a receipt of payment in full. “Gregory, I have no idea where this came from.” Joshua admitted. Livingston sniffed derisively.

  “I don’t believe you.” He smirked. “It had to be your money, the little girl who delivered this was here with you earlier.” Joshua looked around. Emily was still missing. Celia shrugged her shoulders. She hadn’t seen her since before they had begun clearing away the vandalism. As if on cue, Emily quietly walked in the hole where the front door had been. Livingston saw the recognition on Joshua’s face and spun around. “How did you get this?” He wildly brandished the bank note in her face.

  “I bought it.” She answered quietly. Joshua looked at her in askance. “You are Gregory Livingston. Am I correct?” Emily queried. Gregory Livingston merely nodded, smoothing down his lapels and straightening his waistcoat. “Ah, good.” Emily replied. “I am so glad you are here.” Livingston raised an eyebrow skeptically. Emily smiled at Joshua and he returned it with a wan smile of his own.

  “Mr. Livingston.” Emily said gently. “Please leave this shop, and never come back. You have no place here, and you never will. Leave now, lest I be forced to send for the authorities.” Joshua looked at Emily in surprise. Livingston got red in the face and began to sputter. Emily stepped out of the way and motioned him toward the door with an elegant and graceful gesture. Joshua barely managed to stifle a chuckle at his retreating back. He drew close to Emily and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “What have you been up to, Emily?” He asked quietly.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have a wedding gift for you anymore.” Emily responded. “That is to say, if you were so inclined to ask me, I no longer have a gift for you. It was the loveliest gold pocket watch.” She sighed. He blinked slowly, thinking of what to say.

  “I didn’t think you would say yes if I did ask now.” He replied. “What happened to the watch?” He asked, although he was certain of her reply.

  “I sold it and paid the remaining debt on your land.” She stated casually. “Actually, I was a little short. It seems the manager of the bank had concerns regarding the timing of this action against you, and was desirous to assist an upstanding member of the community such as yourself.” Joshua gaped in shock. “You owe him a silk dress for his wife. He said her favorite color is blue.” Joshua laughed, in relief and surprise.

  “You are… you are unlike anyone else, Miss Emily Bouchard.” Joshua laughed again, a grin spreading across his face and lighting up his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.” Emily returned his grin with a shy smile. He pulled her into a tight embrace. “How do I make this up to you?” He whispered to her staring into her eyes.

  “You could ask me to marry you.” Emily offered drily. “Considering I just sold the only item of worth I owned and now I can’t leave.” Joshua chuckled and kissed her gently.

  “I would be honored if you would be my wife, Emily.” He murmured.

  “Fortunately for you, sir, I am inclined to agree.” Emily replied, blithely.

  “Emily, you are my savior.” Joshua spoke softly, holding his mail-order-bride to be in a possessive embrace.

  “I will settle for being your love, Captain Prentis.” Emily paused to control the tears of happiness that threatened to spill forth. “Remember, you’re saving me too.”

  THE END

  Rose’s New Year Surprise

  Chapter 1

  News

  “Why?” Rose Watson asked her mother. Though she was sitting in a warm and cozy reading room in St. Louis surrounded by a stone fireplace with a roaring fire, she suddenly felt cold.

  Betty Watson reached out and took a piece of peppermint from a crystal candy bowl. How she wished her daughter keep her dramatics to a minimum. After all, she thought putting the peppermint into her mouth, her daughter was a lovely young woman who was engaged to the son of a wealthy banker. She didn’t lack for much in life and surely didn’t have much to complain about. “Dear, push your bangs from your eyes.”

  Rose raised a delicate hand and pushed her jet black hair from her eyes. Her delicate, beautiful, face glowed with sadness and confusion. She fidgeted with the buttons of the elegant blue evening gown her mother had insisted on and sighed. Suddenly, she wanted to be anywhere but in this room. The walls felt like they were starting to close in on her. “Mother, why are you telling me this now?” she whined.

  Betty watched her daughter rise from the white sitting chair and wander slowly toward the front window of the reading room. “Because he’s your father and he insists that you know of him,” Betty replied in a sour tone.

  Brushing a wrinkle out of the dark gray dress she was wearing and then checking her curly gray hair, she waited for Rose to reply. When Rose simply walked to the window and drew quiet, Betty spoke. “You are not obligated to associate with this man, Rose.”

  “He is my daddy,” Rose whispered as she listened to early winter winds howl outside. It would start snowing soon, she thought.

  “Your father, not your ‘daddy’,” Betty corrected Rose. “Honestly dear, you must speak properly at all times. Howard has also corrected you on your manners if I'm not mistaken?”

  Rose didn't care much for Howard Derryton. She had only agreed to the marriage because of her mother's insistence that marrying such a man would secure her fu
ture financially. What Rose desired in her heart was real love with a man who held an honest heart. “What is his name?” she asked her mother.

  Betty didn't like the sound of Rose's voice. It was clear that Rose was interested in knowing her father and ignoring her mother’s wishes. “I can see now that I'm the one in error. I should not have broached this subject with you. I'm afraid I must insist that we forget about this matter altogether.”

  “Why is daddy insisting you tell me about him after all these years?” Rose asked, ignoring her mother's request for formality.

  Betty sighed miserably. Chewing the peppermint in her mouth, she thought back to the letter she had received from her attorney. Under the law, Rose's father had every right to know his daughter and he had given Betty a choice: Tell his daughter of him and allow her to make up her own mind, or he would come to St. Louis and personally make himself known. Betty had until the New Year to send a response to her attorney.

  “Rose, dear, this man is a thorn is my side. Yes, perhaps, there was a time when I felt that love was possible. I was gravely mistaken.”

  Rose could sense that her mother desired a reaction of bitterness and rejection from her daughter. Rose could not give such a reaction. Instead, she felt sadness and hurt swelling up in her chest as tears began to stream from her soft blue eyes. “What is my daddy's name, mother, please?” she asked as she began to wipe her tears away.

  “No,” Betty snapped. Standing up, she began pacing around the reading room. Stopping at bookshelf lined with thick leather-bound volumes, she stared into her memory. “This man has brought a horrible burden on you at such a wonderful period in your life. Your wedding is two weeks away. I will not allow him to ruin--”

  “His name!” Rose demanded. Spinning around, she looked at her mother with determination in her eyes. “Mother, I want a name, please.”

  Shocked at the sudden abruptness of her daughter, Betty ran from the reading room. Rose began to give chase, but Andrew, an old butler that Rose was very fond of appeared. He put a finger to his lips and quietly closed the door to the reading room. “Ms. Betty burned them letters sent to her from your daddy,” he whispered to Rose.

  Rose stared at Andrew. The old man was wearing his normal butler uniform yet appeared wise and wealthy in wisdom; a treasure money could not buy. “Over here,” Rose whispered back. Grabbing Andrew's hand, she pulled him over to the fireplace.

  Andrew reached out his hands, soaking in the warmth from the fire. “I didn't think it was right, that's all,” he told Rose. “After Ms. Betty burned them letters, I hurried in here. All I saw, Ms. Rose, was an address.”

  “Oh Andrew, you're wonderful,” Rose said and hugged Andrew.

  “Don't go celebrating yet,” Andrew sighed. “The town I saw was a place called Snow Valley, way up there in Montana.”

  Rose beamed and Andrew stared into her teary eyes. Wiping away her tears, he allowed himself to smile. “Andrew, will you come with me?”

  “Oh no,” Andrew said apologetically. “Ms. Rose, I'm an old man. Winter is rushing in on my bones. My place is here. Ms. Betty may be a bitter woman, but I've been with her for over twenty years. I was with her the night you were born. I can't go off and leave her.”

  Realization dawned in Rose. “When I leave, my mother will be very hurt,” she said softly.

  “I have to stay to help her,” Andrew explained. Smiling into Rose's beautiful face, he turned and walked away. Stopping at the reading room door, he said: “You better leave before the guest starts arriving. I've already packed your suitcase.”

  Watching Andrew walk away, Rose slowly placed her trembling hands over her heart. “I have to know who my daddy is,” she whispered and then grew still as the icy winds howled outside.

  *

  Rose threw her hands up to her eyes to shield herself from the screaming winds and fierce snow. “Better get to the hotel,” an old man yelled at her. Standing outside the stagecoach, Rose struggled to see through the heavy snow. Everywhere she looked, she saw white.

  “My luggage,” Rose called over the wind.

  The old man shook his head at her. “Don't worry about your luggage. I'll bring it into the hotel shortly. I have to get these horses settled in down at the livery stable. This storm is going to be a mean one. Now go and get inside the hotel before you catch your death of cold.”

  Rose didn't argue. Hurrying away, she managed to find the hotel. Unable to make out the details of the exterior, she was pleasantly shocked when she opened the front lobby door and walked into a large and warm lobby decorated with simple yet delightful furnishings. A large stone fireplace on the far back wall held an inviting fire that was chasing away the bitter cold. Closing the lobby door, she slowly brushed snow off the white coat she was wearing over her simple green dress. Happy that the white and green bonnet she was wearing had not been ripped away by the wind, Rose quickly straightened it and collected her thoughts.

  “Help you?” a short, fat, man asked.

  Rose glanced around the lobby as she approached the wooden front desk. A set of wooden doors leading into a dining room were open, allowing delicious aromas of scrumptious foods to drift out into the lobby. Her stomach growled hungrily.

  “I need a room, please.” she said.

  The short, fat, man, studied Rose. Rose could tell the man was harmless; nosey, but harmless. His face was kind and cheerful and his nearly bald head as round as a ball. “Well now,” the man said brushing crumbs off the brown jacket he was wearing, “what is a pretty young lady like yourself doing alone in a place like this?”

  Rose smiled bravely. “I'm looking for my daddy,” she openly admitted without any hesitation. “I've come all the way from St. Louis.”

  “St. Louis, that is a long way,” the man eyed her curiously.

  “Yes, it is,” Rose agreed. She took a liking to this man. “What is your name?” she asked him.

  “Jacob,” he smiled happily. “Renting rooms is my game, but preaching God's Word is my life.”

  “Oh, you're a preacher,” Rose said in a delighted voice.

  Jacob motioned for Rose to lean over the counter. Rose smiled and leaned in toward him. Jacob whispered in her ear. “I haven't let folks around here know I'm a preacher just yet. When God says it time, I will. Our secret.”

  “Of course,” Rose continued to smile. “So, what about that room?”

  “Dollar a night, but you for you-seventy-five cents,” Jacob winked at Rose.

  “I don't know how long I will be staying,” Rose confessed watching Jacob turn the guest registry book around in order for her to sign.

  “You're my only guest. I'm sure the need for your room will not arise any time soon,” Jacob assured her. “Now, go get settled in and I'll let my wife know to keep the kitchen open. We have a few hungry cowhands in the dining room, but I'll make sure they watch their manners.”

  Rose began to thank Jacob for his kindness when a tough looking cowboy walked into the lobby from the dining room. Spotting a beautiful woman, he quickly snatched off a brown hat. “Ma’am,” he said.

  “This is Steven Riley,” Jacob explained. “Steven is Simon Landon's top hand.”

  “Simon Landon?” Rose asked, confused.

  “Oh,” Jacob said and laughed at his own absent-mindedness. “Simon Landon is the biggest ranch owner in this part of the land. He's a fair and good man, unlike some we've had around here, isn't that right, Steve?”

  Steve was lost in Rose's beauty. Staring into her deep, blue eyes, he almost felt hypnotized. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, we've had some rough ones around.”

  Rose blushed. Never in her life had a man looked at her the way Steve was looking at her. “My name is Rose Watson,” she said, forgetting all propriety.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Steve smiled. Realizing he was acting like a fish jumping around on a hook, he cleared his throat and looked at Jacob. “Most of the boys are going to head back to the ranch tonight, but I gotta stay in town and wait for the te
legram. I'm going to need a room.”

  “Two guests in one night,” Jacob winked at Rose. “Say, maybe Steve can help you in your search?”

  Rose blushed again. “I'm looking for my daddy,” she explained bashfully. “I'm come all the way from St. Louis.”

  Steve stared at Rose. Even though the woman seemed fragile and delicate to the core, he saw in her an inner strength and hope that amazed him. He began to speak but stopped when a tall, thin, man entered the lobby. Wearing a black coat over black shirt and black slacks, he appeared more of a shadow, rather than a man.

  “Help you?” Jacob asked in a voice that came out less than friendly. Clearly, he was weary of the stranger also.

  “I need a room for the night,” the man replied, speaking in a low, quiet voice. Looking at Steve, he studied the gun resting on the man's right hip. Steve, in return, studied the stranger with caution.

  Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit frightened by the man. Perhaps it was the thin, stringy black hair or his boney face that made her uneasy. Or perhaps it was something else. Rose realized it was his eyes. The stranger had the coldest eyes she had ever seen. They were completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

  “Three guests,” Jacob winked at Rose attempting to ease the fear in her eyes.

  “I need to rest. I'll be down later to eat dinner,” Rose informed Jacob. Focusing on Steve, she offered the man a polite smile and walked upstairs. Outside, the snowstorm grew stronger.

  Chapter 2

  Blizzard

  The roast beef was delicious. Eating alone at a back table in a dining room decorated with white and blue curtains and table cloths, Rose listened to the storm howl outside. Only Jacob and his wife, Steve, and the unsettling man in black remained at the hotel. Gratefully, that man was nowhere in sight.

  Lord, please help me find my daddy,” she silently prayed. “My faith is in You alone.”

  Jacob watched Rose pray from the dining room door. Smiling, he walked up to her table and asked if could sit down. “May I?”

 

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