“I knew it was going to break my mother’s heart to leave her like that, but I didn’t care. I was only thinking about me. My pa was gone, my brother was gone. We were all meat to take care of ourselves. I never saw my ma again.”
“Harold? Is that you! Come on then!”
An old woman from across the way motioned to the old man, and he got up and shuffled away, still talking. Sam was left on the bench, alone with his thoughts once more, but now unable to shake what the man had said.
What if I never see my mother again? What would that do to her? Well, maybe she should have thought of that before she dragged me all the way out here to begin with!
But I don’t want to never see her again. I love her. I just…
Sam couldn’t get the image he had of his mother out of his mind. All he could think of was her sobbing on his bed, wondering where he had gone and what had happened to him. Guilt was starting to cloud in his mind, and he couldn’t shake it.
“What am I doing?”
He spoke out loud, though there was no one to hear him. Then it hit him. How was he going to get home? There wasn’t any stage going back that way for another couple of days, and he had planned to sleep on the stage. He didn’t have enough money for a hotel, either.
Suddenly, Sam thought he heard something. He held his breath so he could hear better, and waited.
He heard it again.
“Sam! Samuel! Where are you?”
Someone was calling his name. Sam rose and looked back on the road. As far as he could tell, they voice was coming from that direction. Suddenly, Jasper appeared, running his horse up and over the hill.
Sam walked out into the rode, uncertain as to whether or not it was really him.
“Sam! There you are! Sam!”
As soon as Jasper saw him, he dug his heels into the horse’s side and galloped him faster into town. The horse hadn’t even stopped before Jasper was off of him and embracing Sam in his arms.
“Oh Sam! Sam! I thought I lost you. We thought we lost you. Sam!”
Sam didn’t know what was happening to him. His mother hugged him a lot, but it had been so long since he had been hugged by his father, he almost forgot what it was like. Jasper’s hug was a lot like this father’s hug, and the feeling that came over him was too much to bear.
Sam broke down right there in Jasper’s arms, sobbing and clinging to him.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking! I’m sorry!”
Sam’s voice was muffled in Jasper’s jacket, but Jasper shushed him.
“Your mother and I were worried sick about you. She loves you, Sam, and so do I. I can’t lose you like this, I just can’t. Please come home with me?”
Sam pulled back and looked at Jasper. His eyes were wide with wonder, and he searched Jasper’s face to see if he was serious.
“Do you really mean it?”
“I do, I love you like you are my own son.”
Sam leaned in and Jasper picked him up he hugged him and set him on the horse, then climbed up into the saddle.
“Let’s go home!”
And they were off.
“Hello to the house!”
Jasper called before they were even to the gate. The two of them could see that Grace had a candle lit in the window, and shortly after he yelled, the door opened and Grace ran out. She ran through the gate and paused for a moment in the middle of the road, then she lifted her skirt to her knees and ran as fast as she could to meet them.
“Mama! Mama!”
Sam squirmed and Jasper let him off the horse, then he ran to his mother and was engulfed in her arms.
“I’m sorry Mama, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Sam cried as his mother held him close, and she soothed him.
“All that matters is that you’re home now.”
Jasper came up and wrapped his arms around both of them.
“Home at last! Now, we can officially call ourselves a family… that is… if you will have me?”
He directed his question at Sam, who looked at him from Grace’s arms. He was silent for a second, then he nodded.
“I guess so. You can be my Pa.”
A smile spread across Jasper’s face and he tossed his hat in the air and whooped. Both Sam and Grace laughed, and Grace set Sam down.
“Come on, you two… I think this calls for a celebration.”
Sam placed one of his hands in Grace’s and the other in Jasper’s, and they walked to the house. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Sam felt happy.
He had a family again.
THE END.
Hope For A Widow
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
“I do,” Elle panted, smiling at the man in front of her. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and her beautiful white dress chafed delicate areas of her flesh, but that didn’t stop the feeling of sweet relief to wash over. “I do,” she repeated, unable to help herself.
Amusement glinted in her new husband’s eyes.
The church they were in was small and rickety, the floorboards and window frames splintered and faded. There were so many people there to watch her and Duncan Aster get married that these men and women were forced to remain standing while pressing against one another; there were even a few people peeking through the windows outside the church.
The day was hot and muggy, and the presence of all of these people made the air in the church all the more suffocating.
Elle knew none of them. These were Duncan’s friends and neighbors, for this was Duncan’s home—Chinnawah, Kansas. She had just gotten off a train from New York City by herself a few days ago. None of her family or friends had followed her, and with any luck, none of them would ever find her.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the pastor said. He stood before the both of them more like an altar than a person, his arms spread wide and his head held high.
Duncan leaned forward, and Elle met him the rest of the way. The kiss was brief and gentle, but it made a reassuring warmth shoot through her body. She was finally his wife; she was finally Mrs. Aster. It was as if Eleanor “Elle” Mayweather had faded away in the midst of this rebirth of sorts. Perhaps now she and her unborn child were truly safe.
The people applauded and cheered, backing away as best as they could so that Elle and Duncan could actually exit the church.
The pastor said some more words, but Elle couldn’t hear him over the crowd. She just let a grinning Duncan grab her hand and lead her toward the church doors.
At this point in her pregnancy, Elle merely looked a little round—a little bloated. Thank God Duncan didn’t seem to care. She couldn’t go back to New York if he had turned her down the moment she stepped off that train to meet him, and she didn’t think she could survive in the west with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, her sack of other items, and the fetus growing inside of her.
Thank God Duncan hadn’t taken back his proposal—the one he made to her in his last letter to her. She would admit to having basically coerced it out of him. They had only written back and forth to each other a few times, and neither one of them truly knew the other, but Elle didn’t have the time to take things slow. She had had to leave New York City as soon as possible.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said as they walked back to his—to their home.
Duncan had a small house on the outskirts of town. It could be seen from the church—out in the dirt-covered valley, the horizon seeming to slice through it from the angle Elle was seeing it at. There were no other homes near this place, nor any barns. It was just a house and its land, and that was just fine with Elle.
Duncan snorted at her. “You’re being kind.”
“Obviously,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand as she bumped into him. “I’m a kind person. I can’t be anything but kind.”
He turned to her and gave her a playful smirk. Though she hadn’t initially cared if Duncan was handsome or not, she had been delighted to discove
r that he was. He had a strong jaw, piercing blue eyes, and a well-toned body that made her shiver in all kinds of ways. But the best part about him was how easy going he was. He didn’t intimidate her, nor pressure her, and that was what really mattered in the end.
Thinking of this, Elle glanced over her white dress as they continued to walk. It was getting stained by the orange and brown dirt that blew through the wind, especially around the dress’s bottom trim. However, she wasn’t bothered by it, nor was Duncan. Duncan had given her the dress as a formality, and neither one of them felt too emotionally connected to it. Perhaps if he had courted her the more proper way, she might have felt differently about it. Maybe they both would have.
They continued on in companionable silence after that. Once they were inside the house, Elle began to unzip and shimmy out of her dress. Being bold wasn’t new to her, but she still felt a tinge of nervousness jitter within her stomach. This was going to be hers and Duncan’s first time, after all.
Standing in the entryway, Duncan gaped at her. The sunset casted bright orange light through the house’s windows, making the furniture within the home seem to glow with an orange-ish, yellowish hue.
It was a nice setting, Elle thought as she peeled out of her poofy and stained dress. It relaxed her, even as she mentally prepared herself for her upcoming wedding night.
“Elle,” Duncan said, his eyes conveying conflicting emotions. “We don’t…I mean, if you’re not ready…”
In her undergarments now, Elle walked over and grabbed both of his rugged hands. Her heart hammered in her chest as her skin began to seep out more sweat. However, as nervous as she was about all of this, she was even more nervous about not getting this process over with. After all, it was imperative that Duncan believe that the child in her womb was his.
“Come on, honey,” she whispered, keeping her mouth open a little. She took deep breaths and forced her body not to quiver. “I’ve been waiting so long for you.”
Duncan still looked unsure. Perhaps he had never been with a woman before; perhaps he was insecure. Or perhaps he was simply trying to look out for her. No matter what the case, Elle recognized that she would have to be gentle and reassuring.
“I want this,” she said, smiling. “If you want to take this slow, we can take it slow. I won’t bite.”
He huffed at that, shaking his head. “We’ll take it slow.”
She nodded, her smile softening.
He visibly relaxed before nodding in return. “Okay.”
When she tugged him toward her, he followed and immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. She moved her head upward and kissed him. As promised, she moved slowly against him. It was actually kind of calming, the way they seemed to synch to one another so readily.
Then their kiss grew hungrier—needier. She moaned, bringing her hands up to claw into his scalp.
Whatever reservations Duncan had had, they were clearly gone as he pulled and pushed her toward their bedroom.
***
Duncan lived off of his family’s money, unbeknownst to them—or, well, they probably knew by now. Either way, he kept his purchases cheap and his lifestyle manageable, so he hadn’t had to worry too much about finding a job just yet. And at times, he would sell some of his old things or barter with the neighbors, and that worked out fine with him. It had been lonely way to live though. He had enough money to last him years, but no one to share it with. He certainly couldn’t return home, and the people in town were either married or uninterested in someone as closed off and lazy as him.
Putting an ad for a wife in the paper had been a Hail Mary, and Elle’s response had been a miracle.
She wasn’t what he thought she would be; she was simple, flexible, undemanding, patient—a lovely woman, through and through. He had some doubts when he first sent his proposal to her, but she had been so eager to leave her city-life behind, and he had grown very curious about what she looked like and what she sounded like. He also was tired of his own loneliness, and even a little desperate to make it cease.
The moment he officially met Elle at the train station, Duncan hadn’t been disappointed. She was beautiful and charming. She had worn a baby blue dress and a dark bonnet, her vibrant eyes somewhere in between those two colors. And she was so straight-forward with him about every little thing—how she felt, what she wanted—and the way she flirted with him…at times, she actually had him blushing and stuttering like a schoolboy.
He could definitely fall for this woman. And now, a few days after their wedding, life was already better. Sleeping next to her seemed to be giving him pleasant dreams again, and hearing her walk around the house soothed the weariness out of his heart. Air was easier to breathe, despite the fact that the summer was muggy.
Sitting on the porch’s front steps, Duncan sipped from the glass of ice-cold lemonade Elle had brought out for him. He stared at the distant town with a hazy kind of awareness. The heat made the air warp and jiggle, and he watched it with curiosity while the beverage in his gut cooled him. So content, he thought he might just let himself drift off then and there—fall asleep in an awkward sitting position. Elle would wake him if she needed him. The thought had him smiling.
As if thinking her name had summoned her, Elle opened the front door and walked toward him. By the time he was turning to regard her, she had already plumped herself down next to him. She clutched his arm with both of her small hands, and he couldn’t help but smile wider in response.
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. She didn’t seem perturbed, rather calculating. Before he could ask her what was wrong, her expression broke out into one of pure joy and excitement. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
Duncan’s stomach dropped, and he nearly lost his grip on his glass. “Wha—?” It took him a few seconds to fully comprehend her words, and when he did, he furrowed his brow. “How could you know so soon? We just had…we…” He cleared his throat. Normally, he wouldn’t be so embarrassed about subjects like this, but Elle had made him…softer, in lack of a better term. “Is that possible?”
“Woman’s intuition,” she said proudly, still beaming at him. “Isn’t this great? We’re going to have a family. A little boy or a little girl.” She bounced a little in her seat, her grip on his arm tightening.
It wasn’t that Duncan hadn’t expected to have children with Elle, but he thought that it wouldn’t happen until much, much later. Hell, when one of his neighbors’ wives got pregnant, the two of them had been married for over three years. And when Duncan’s parents first conceived him, they had been married for eight months.
“Unbelievable,” he said, forcing himself to smile. He glanced her up and down, confused. “Are you sure? I mean…that’s awfully fast, don’t you think?”
“Trust me, darling,” Elle said, leaning against his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his jaw. “A woman knows when she is carrying a child.”
Duncan couldn’t think of a response to that. He supposed it made sense, not that he knew much about pregnancies or women’s anatomies. He gulped down the rest of his lemonade, the icy liquid sending pleasant chills throughout his torso and gut. It wasn’t quite as effective as a shot would have been to numb his sudden stress, but it was fine enough. And it was all he had at the moment.
“Are you alright?” she asked him, her tone much softer now. “You look worried.”
He lowered his glass and coughed up some lemon-flavored spittle. “I’m fine.” He nearly winced at his choice of words, and instead turned and grinned at her. “I’m really happy. I’m going to be a father.”
“It is exciting, isn’t?” She patted his shoulder. Then her entire expression shifted into something casual, as if the last few moments hadn’t even occurred. “Alright, I’m going to start making lunch. Is there anything in particular you feel like eating today? Preferably something that goes good with lemonade. I made a lot of that.”
He shook his head, and before he knew it, she
was bounding up the porch’s steps and back into the house.
Duncan sighed, his chest constricting. He had been a terrible, terrible son to his own father. How could he raise a child? He wasn’t quite sure if he was a good husband yet. Elle seemed happy enough, but she also sometimes felt distant. Although, how could he blame her? They had only been with each other for a few days now.
He pressed his hand over his eyes. The summer heat sank into his flesh, and his heart thumped a little faster and a little harder. The idea of being trapped—having nowhere to escape, no options to consider—it constricted his throat a little, and a wheeze of a breath crawled out of his mouth.
He was going to be a father. Him. God, he was going to be terrible at it. That poor child. If Duncan had a little more time to prepare—more than nine months—then maybe he could have been okay at it. Maybe. He shook his head, his thoughts running in circles and taunting him.
The front door opened again, making Duncan jump and turn around. Elle was already sitting next to him again, and she was handing him a new glass of ice-cold lemonade.
“You finished your other one in quite a hurry,” she said. She gave him a knowing, gentle smile. “I thought you might like another one.”
Duncan, speechless, lowered the empty glass by his feet before taking the new one and drinking from it. The coolness did seem to untighten some of his guts, and he calmed somewhat.
Fiddling with her hands, Elle released a breath and glanced at her feet. “I’m sorry.”
Startled, Duncan nearly choked on his drink. Swallowing down his last gulp, he loudly cleared his throat and turned to her.
She was trying not to laugh at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think I should have waited to tell you. Let us be married for a while. I understand that this news is shocking. Maybe even overwhelming.”
“No,” he blurted, because that didn’t sound right. He didn’t admit to himself that he would have preferred her waiting at least a couple of weeks before telling him about the unborn baby; he didn’t want to be that big of an asshole. “No, we…there should be no secrets between us.” Ice of the uncomfortable kind encircled his heart, bitterness taunting him within seconds. He rubbed at the sudden discomfort in his chest. “I’m glad you told me.”
[2015] A Love Miracle Page 40
