Romance: Western Mail Order Bride Bethany's Love -Clean Christian Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series)

by Catherine Woods

  “You should have told me, Beatrice said. “My husband had dreams, too. And they weren’t always such a bad thing.”

  Nora sank into the sheets and longed for Emily when Beatrice held her close and kissed her hair.

  “A man that dreams looks ahead,” Beatrice whispered. “I would have stuck by Andrew’s side through anything.”

  Her voice cut off, and Nora shot off as she gripped her face.

  “Finish it,” Nora pleaded. “What do you wish?”

  “That I had brought him back home before he lost his life,” Beatrice confessed. “His father is a kind man”

  “Nora!”

  She startled at the sound of her name to see Henry covered in sweat, his eyes frantic, and as soon as he looked to the bed, he reached for her.

  “I thought they hurt you,” he said. “Your dress was--”

  Wanting to comfort his soul, Nora leapt off the bed and gathered Henry into her arms. She hadn’t fallen in love so fast only to forget it as soon as someone else was kind, and they nearly kissed when Welsh hovered over them.

  “You really thought that you were going to give this fine lady a real life without a dime to your name?”

  Henry made no move as Welsh looked to Beatrice and let her take his hand as Mary’s cries crossed their ears from the other room.

  “She was so good to me,” Beatrice said. “Isn’t there some way to help them?”

  Welsh’s face was unreadable, but when Beatrice returned with Mary in her arms, he flattened his palm against the back of the baby’s head.

  “My son thought that he had to run away,” Welsh started. “But you, Henry Russell!”

  Henry looked up, and Nora stayed in his hold as Welsh spoke fast.

  “I’ll take on your debts. You will work my land and yours. It’s not an easy fix. But if you want it enough, you will grow up and get your head in the game.”

  Welsh led Beatrice away as the door closed.

  “Henry? I’m sorry. I…”

  “You came all this way to show me out,” he said. “It’s not what I wanted you to do.”

  “But it’s chance, Henry,” she pleaded. “Can’t you see that much?”

  Henry said nothing, and Nora wept into her hands as she crawled back to the bed and tried to fall asleep.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t dream without me, Nora.”

  Chapter 7

  “Can you see to Mary?”

  Beatrice was trying hard to baste a roast and make a perfect dinner for the men as soon as they returned from the fields. Nora kept clicking off the days. The land was safe from the likes of Davis and Turner. Life was tense for a time. But once Henry grew to like the man and saw the reward, Henry kissed her goodnight and thanked her for being in his corner. Soon the nights alone seemed too long without him, and Nora asked him to stay. Henry kissed her under the sheets and reminded her that he had loved her at first sight when they broke apart and sat at opposite ends of the bed, their finger just touched over the sheets.

  I no longer have the ring. But we have to take vows if we’re going to---

  And she clung to his neck as she nodded her assent and peppered his chin with tiny kisses and found his ear.

  Then just marry me already. What more do I need to do to show you that I want to be your wife?

  “Nora?”

  Beatrice’s voice roused her from the memory that was their wedding. A simple affair in Welsh’s dining room. The room had been flooded with flowers, and Nora had to marvel at the fact that they matched and bested Emily’s spread as she linked her hand in his and uttered her vows.

  With everything that I am and have, Henry. From this moment until the end of my days.

  It suddenly felt like that as she gripped Beatrice’s hand and clutched her stomach.

  “It’s…. it’s happening,” Nora started. “I need… I want Henry to be--”

  “Take it from someone who knows,” she said. “You have no say when it comes to the timing.”

  With those words, Beatrice gathered Mary close and helped Nora into the nearest bedroom under her free arm. As soon as she hit the sheets, Nora looked to the window and parted her lips with a sob.

  “I still… please, Beatrice.”

  Screaming through the feeling that her body was about to give out, Nora fell back to the bed and kept asking for her husband as Beatrice laid her baby in the basinet and kissed Nora’s suddenly crimson cheek.

  “I’ll call him home,” Beatrice promised. “He can’t be far away.”

  Beatrice stayed in the room as she lifted up one window and screamed into the fields. Nora’s mind followed the sound of Beatrice’s voice, and her body wished for the pain to go away when she felt the unseen baby starting to push away.

  “I’m not ready!” Nora cried out. “I can’t do this.”

  “Nora?”

  She turned her head to see Henry covered in the dust of the land as he fell to the side of the bed. He seized her hand and wrapped his free arm around her neck so he could gently cradle the back of her head.

  “I’m right here,” he assured her with a quick kiss to her brow. “You didn’t think you were going to do this without me, did you?”

  Nora tried to answer when she was wracked with an unspeakable pain. Henry’s hands stayed sure, but she saw his eyes turn frantic and could do nothing to ease the tension from his body or his mind as Beatrice pulled him from her side and started to strip off her clothes.

  “What in God’s name to you think you’re--?”

  “I’ve been through this,” Beatrice reminded him. “She needs to be kept comfortable. And you should wait outside.”

  “I will not leave my wife to face this alone.”

  Nora’s eyelids started to flutter as she weakly nodded her head. Her hand was almost back in his as Beatrice grumbled and took charge.

  “Fine,” she relented. “Stay and help. But leave the birth to me.”

  Nora heard him consent as her dress was replaced by a soft cotton nightgown. Settling back into the sheets, Nora took comfort at the feel of his arm around her shoulder, and the pain ceased as he returned to the bed and lay at his side. Beatrice left the room with the promise to bring back warm water as Nora settled her head against his shoulder.

  “Are you scared?” she asked.

  “Terrified,” he said. “But no more than when I first read your letter.”

  Henry quickly kissed her, and Nora bathed in the light stemming from his eyes as she fondled his face.

  “My… my mother said that I read too many romance novels.”

  “We’re not fiction, Nora.”

  She longed to embrace him when a sharp pain in her middle caused her world to blur, but she still felt his hands rubbing her down as Beatrice reentered the room.

  “It’s coming so fast,” she said as she dropped the steaming basin at the edge of the bed and knelt between Nora’s knees.

  “Now I know that it hurts,” Beatrice continued. “But just a few quick pushes and it will all be worth it.”

  “I am going to hold both of you to that,” Nora said through gritted teeth as she felt the swell in her stomach struggling to make its way towards the light. The pressure threatened to tear her apart from within, and she breathed though the anguish when she saw Henry’s face contort and felt his fingers running through her hair.

  “You like… you love it when I look like this,” she reminded him.

  “But not the look of you in pain,” he said. “I never would have sent for you if I had known that this--”

  Nora’s fresh cry cracked the air, and Henry pressed her to his chest, whispering over and over again for her to be alright when Beatrice leaned forward for her face.

  “One more,” Beatrice said. “Someone wants this to be a birthday. You wouldn’t want to let the little one down.”

  “I just want it to stop!” Nora screamed. But she allowed her body to follow the sound of Beatrice’s voice, and a warm gush slid down her thighs. The pain was more than she
could contemplate, and Nora felt sure that she would die under the weight of the agony when a tiny cry filled the room.

  And the pain faded away like a nightmare from which she had escaped. Her head hit the pillows, and she felt Henry’s soft kisses dotting her damp face when the small cries grew so loud that they might have been rain pounding on the roof. Nora sat up with Henry’s help and saw the miracle resting in Beatrice’s arms.

  “Let me… let me clean him up,” her friend offered.

  “Him?” Henry asked.

  Beatrice just nodded her head as she dabbed a cloth into the water and washed the baby’s… washed the boy’s body. Taking a piece of twine from her apron, she tied off the cord that had linked them together and snapped if off. Nora sighed sadly at the thought that she would never hold the child inside her again.

  But the swaddled bundle that Beatrice placed her arms more than made up for the loss.

  “You have a son,” she said. “A perfect little boy.”

  Perfect did not do the baby justice, and Nora started to weep when Henry kissed her tears away.

  “You are magic, Nora,” he said. “The both of you.”

  Beatrice wiped the afterbirth from her hands and gazed down at the bed.

  “I’ll give you a few moments.”

  Once they were alone, Nora forgot the meaning of time and focused on the baby gurgling as Henry dabbed the tiny lips with the back of sleeve.

  “What are you thinking right now?” he asked. “Tell me everything.”

  Sighing as the back of her head hit his neck, Nora combed her fingers through the tiny boy’s fine hair.

  “That I almost ran away,” Nora said. “Do you remember that?”

  “Because I turned my back.”

  Henry shuddered as he started to turn away, but Nora reached for his hands and kept him close.

  “You don’t get to do that again,” she said. “Neither do I. Now there’s so much more.”

  Nora cuddled into his hold as the baby sighed and seemed to find peace in the space of their arms.

  “Why would we ever want to leave this?”

  They exchanged a soft kiss before Nora rested her head in the crook of his neck.

  “And we will get back to your spread,” she promised. “We have friends now. Family.”

  “Do you want your people to know him?”

  Nora considered the question and played with his fingers before she answered.

  “Emily,” she started. “My sister. But no one else from the old days.”

  “Fair enough,” Henry said.

  The minutes turned into hours, and Nora suddenly started up as she kept the baby close.

  “What is--?”

  “We need a name,” Nora said. “I hadn’t even thought.”

  “But I did,” he said.

  “Oh?” Nora asked as she pushed up from the pillows. “Are you going to let me in on the secret?”

  Henry guided them back to the bed and kissed the crowns of their heads before parting his lips to speak.

  “Andrew,” he said. “It means strong and---”

  “Oh, Henry,” she said. “It’s perfect. In so many ways.”

  He didn’t know how much until they present the baby to Mr. Welsh, and in that moment, the older man nodded his head and pulled them into a hug.

  “It’s a fine tribute,” he said. “And you will have your land back to make a home for your new family.”

  Henry cocked his head in confusion, and Nora whispered the whole story into his ear. She felt him tense and smoothed her hand down his back as Welsh told Beatrice that he was grateful to have so many heirs simply because she’d made a friend on the train.

  And Henry shared in the joy as he kissed her deeply and broke away with grateful tears shimmering in his eyes.

  “You are magic, Nora. My ideal bride.”

  THE END

  Return to TOC

  A Nurses Faith

  Return to TOC

  Chapter 1

  War is a horrible thing. It rips families apart and ends lives. People don’t seem to understand the toll that it takes on the families of soldiers. The people who loved the dead lose just as much as the dead themselves. The living are not accepted into God’s kingdom. We don’t get to rest our weary heads. We are expected to trudge on, knowing that the ones we love are six feet underground, knowing that we will never get them back.

  It’s a difficult thing to accept and an even more difficult thing to live with. War is terrible, but it’s even worse when it’s brothers fighting brothers. The Civil War had torn apart little towns like mine all over the country. It seemed that the only people left untouched by the war were the settlers out West. The worst part of it was that we didn’t understand what we were fighting for. The rich plantation owners all had a stake in the war because they didn’t want to lose their slaves, but the everyday normal person was ready to give up everything in order to have their sons and husbands home.

  I didn’t lose my husband or my son because I was not married. My name is Sara Wright and I saw the worst atrocities of war. I left my small town in order to be a nurse on the front lines. I was present for amputations and I held boys no older than fourteen as they died in my arms. I removed bullets and I did my best to save as many as I could, but no matter how hard I worked and no matter how hard I tried, they always died. There was nothing I could do.

  I had always wanted to be a nurse. When I was a little girl I would watch my father work. He was a doctor and I always loved watching him help people. He birthed babies, he healed those who were hurt and he put smiles back on their faces. I wanted to be a part of that. I thought it was beautiful and I wanted desperately to do the things that he did. I wanted to make people happy and I wanted to make them smile. I wanted to heal the sick and be there for the dying.

  Women couldn’t be doctors. I always thought that rule was a bit arcane but I understood that things were the way they were and that I should do what I could, and what I could do was be a nurse. At first, my parents didn’t like the idea. Being a nurse was not considered a respectable thing for a lady to do.

  Since my father was the town doctor, we were always rather wealthy and I was expected to do the things that wealthy women did. I was expected to sew and have babies, not be a nurse. The thought of a young, well off lady dirtying her hands with blood was horrifying to some people, including my mother. She would always take my hands and beg me not to pursue my education.

  I loved her dearly and the idea of going against her wishes hurt me, but I knew what I had to do. I left home and went north to study under some of the most revered nurses of my time. They were wonderful, loving women with hearts of gold and I wanted desperately to be like them. I watched them save hundreds of lives and I studied everything they could teach me and soon I was helping save lives just like them. I lived with nurses until I was eighteen and finally returned home.

  In the time that I was gone, my father passed away from consumption. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to come to terms with. I’d been incredibly close to my father, and the idea that I hadn’t been able to help him drove me mad. It made my chest ache in the worst way. I hated that I hadn’t been there to treat him in his time of need.

  My mother died shortly after the war began. All of the carnage was too much for her weak heart to take and so she expired and went to heaven. I was left alone with a medical practice I was not allowed to run and a house so big I couldn’t possibly begin to take care of it myself.

  I hired a few people to help me but soon all the men went to war and all the women left when their husbands didn’t return. The town’s population dwindled day by day and soon I was left alone with only a few other young women. We were scared and unsure as to what was going to happen next but we stayed as long as we could. With everyone gone, the town fell to ruin. There was no one left to tend the crops and no one left to care for the animals. When it became too much to stay we left.

  I don’t know where the others
went, but I went to the war zones. I went to fulfill my duty as a nurse. I just didn’t count on so much death. I never thought I’d be faced with so many patients I couldn’t help. I never expected to hold children as they died night after night. The sights and sounds that I experienced in the throes of war were apocalyptic. As I looked around at all of the death and destruction, I was sure that this was the end of the world. What else could it be?

  When the war was over, we were told to go home. Everyone was. The soldiers, the generals, and the nurses. Anyone who’d played a role in this horrific war was sent back to their everyday lives as if nothing had happened. We were left to deal with the aftereffects of war on our own.

  It was not until after the war that I realized all the screaming and crying of dying patients had been drilled into my brain. I heard them when I closed my eyes at night and it made me realize one very important thing.

  You could never escape the horror of war.

  Chapter 2

  I went back to Tennessee. I went back to my home town, though there was nothing to go back to. Clayton was a ghost town. There were a few families left but they lived on the outskirts of town. Downtown was nearly empty. There was not a single business that was still up and running. Everyone had closed their stores and left the desolate town for greener pastures.

  Going back to my old house was torture. The windows were still boarded up and the door was covered in moss. The inside of the house had been left largely untouched; there weren’t really any people left around to loot and steal so my house was the same way I’d left it: empty.

  Walking through the halls was like coming face to face with a ghost. Everything was so damn familiar, but it was a shell of what it had been. I hated seeing all of my family’s things covered in dust and collecting grime. I wanted to make this place a home again, but I knew that would never happen. As I stared down the empty corridor, I knew that this would never be my home again.

  It broke my heart, but I said goodbye to the old farm. I hated to watch it disappear and disintegrate into nothing, but I just knew this was not a place for me anymore. I needed to accept that and move on.