But the man who stepped into the candlelight was not Jonah.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?”
The man laughed harshly. “The name’s Frank, darling. I see my son hasn’t mentioned me. Too bad. I told him what I would do to the one he loves. He must not have believed me.”
As he spoke, he drew a knife out of his pocket. Its edge glowed sharply in the small light as he advanced on her. “That was a very touching scene you shared in the foyer.”
“You were watching us?”
“Indeed I was. I’ve been trailing you since this morning when you arrived at the festival. After I saw that kiss, I came back here and waited for you.”
As he spoke, Bianca edged sideways and Frank matched her moves, circling her, as if toying with her.
“Why?”
“My son stole my wife from me and now I will steal his from him. I warned him long ago that I would.”
Sudden understanding dawned on Bianca. “You’re the reason why he’s been so hesitant to take our marriage forward.” She didn’t fully understand but she knew she was right.
The back of her legs hit the table behind her and she grasped a heavy paperweight before moving away and closer to the door.
Frank followed her but he was done talking. He lunged at Bianca with the knife but she threw the paperweight at him with all her might and it caught him on the side of the head, dazing him. Bianca didn’t wait. She pulled the door open and ran out of the bedroom and then out into the yard, screaming for Jonah along the way.
She heard Frank crash through the living room and follow her. She twisted back to look and slipped on the ice in front of her and fell. Frank was faster than he seemed and the paperweight hadn’t done much damage.
He covered the distance between him and his pray quickly. Bianca tried to scramble away from him but the ice was slippery and Frank got to her first. He turned her over and straddled her stomach. The knife glinted in his hand in the moonlight as he raised it above his head with a maniacal laugh. When he brought it down, Bianca braced herself, just as a loud boom shook the night air and Frank screamed in agony as the knife went flying and blood spurted from his hand. Another boom and Frank’s shoulder jerked and he fell back away from Bianca.
Jonah came up alongside her, shotgun to his shoulder. He pulled her up with one hand, keeping the other steadily on the trigger of the gun firmly aimed at the other man. Bianca scrambled up and Jonah swept her behind him.
He slowly advanced on Frank but the man didn’t move. When Jonah stepped over him, he was surprised to see Frank looking at him with wide, glazed eyes. A dead man’s gaze. Jonah turned him over and found the knife Frank had used on Bianca lodged in his back. It must have landed hilt first in the snow when it was shot out of Frank’s hand and Frank had impaled himself on it when he fell back from the second shot.
Jonah felt nothing but relief. The shadow specter of Frank Cassidy was no longer hanging over his life like a gloom. He was free.
The next week, on Christmas morning, Jonah and Bianca sat down before the hearth and sipped on hot chocolate. They had a pile of wrapping paper flung all over the living room and both were as giddy as children as they took in their gifts. Jonah excused himself and went to his room. When he came back out, he had a small package wrapped in gold with a red bow in his hands.
Bianca looked at him curiously when he presented it to her. I bought it a month ago but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give it to you. At least, not until the Christmas Festival. I had already decided that I would give it to you that morning and Frank’s demise just gave me more of a confirmation.
“I am sorry about what he put you and your mom through, Jonah. I am glad he can’t hurt you anymore.” Jonah had explained everything about Frank to her after that fateful night and Bianca was glad Jonah was finally able to move past it.
She carefully unwrapped the package and opened the small box inside. The gift inside stunned her. Jonah knelt next to her.
“I know I said when I met you that I did not want a wife, only a maid. But you changed all of that. You turned my world upside down. You are genuine and generous, practical and fun. I can’t imagine anyone else that I would rather spend the rest of my life with. We have been married for several months now but as of yet, we have not lived as husband and wife. But I love you and I want you to be mine alone. Bianca Cassidy, would you be my wife and companion from this day on for as long as God gives us breath to share?”
Bianca just stared at him. Her Christmas miracle had occurred. He was everything she ever wanted and she loved him with all that she had.
Bianca leaned forward and kissed Jonah. She didn’t have words to say what she wanted to say but he knew what she was saying all the same. He slipped the ring on her finger and enfolded her in his embrace.
*****
THE END.
A Journey to Him
Mail Order Bride
By: Christian Michael
Chapter 1
Robert Ames looked down at his son Jack, the boy’s eyelids brushing the top of his soft cheek. Robert’s heart constricted. The boy’s features looked so much like his wife Mary’s had. Rounded and soft cheeks. A perked nose. Dark hair.
He turned away, his hand covering his mouth. He forced the tears back—he wasn’t going to let them come, not now, not ever again. They didn’t help him pay tribute to her memory, but only sufficed to make him weak in his loss of her.
He walked down the creaky stairs as quietly as possible, halting at the sight of his sister’s concerned eyes on him.
“What?” he said, gruffly.
“You look troubled.”
He wanted to shoot a quick report back at her, but she didn’t deserve it. Lola had come to stay with him since Mary’s death five months ago and he knew how much of a God-send she’d been.
“I’m fine.”
She rose, coming to stand in front of him, effectively blocking his path to the door. She knew him too well.
“You’re not. But I won’t press that issue in lieu of another one.”
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I need to leave for home.”
Her words thudded into his chest like a fence poll pounded into a hole. “What? When?”
“Soon. I may have one more month here, maybe two, but it depends. I got a letter from Ma. Pa isn’t doing well.”
Why was Robert surrounded by death? Pa was close to it. Mary had been taken by it. What was next?
“I see.”
“Look,” she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. You know that.”
“I do.”
“But I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”
“What?” he asked warily.
“I know you’re not going to want to hear this,” she began tentatively, “But I think you should take another wife.”
Robert felt like the air had been sucked from the room. “What?”
“I know you won’t want to think about this—I don’t want to either, really—but you have to consider Little Jack. When Mary died,” her eyes misted and he ground his molars together, “She left a hole in your life. I can see that. But Jack is still here. He needs a woman to care for him. No, more than that—he needs a mother.”
Robert wanted to stick his fingers in his hears and pretend he wasn’t hearing any of this, but the rational side of him knew that Lola was right. Jack needed—deserved—a mother.
“Everything in me rebels against that,” he finally said, low and quite.
“I know. But it’s the only way. You can’t work for Mr. Collins and take care of Jack, and when I’m gone that’s exactly what you’ll have to do.”
The truth of her words struck him again. It was true. He was running out of options. If Lola wasn’t there, he knew he couldn’t afford to pay for someone else to watch Jack.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll need to marry again.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.<
br />
“I’ll put an advertisement in a few Matrimony Journal’s in the East. I’ll take care of it and when I narrow down the search, I’ll have you help me pick who you…” she dropped off, not able to say “who you want to marry”. She knew he didn’t want this, but that he would go through it, or anything else, for his son. Anything for his son.
“Fine,” he said, stepping around her.
The front door banged closed but he kept walking, out toward the afternoon sun. He’d let its rays burn the heat of truth into his heart. He could force himself to marry for a second time, but he couldn’t force himself to love again.
***
Alice Winston trembled from head to foot. The hot breath of the head maid whispering against her neck as she ground out the words, “Will you never learn?”
The slap of the wooden spoon against Alice’s knuckles streaked up her arms, tears springing from her eyes and down her face.
“I’m s-sorry, m-ma’am,” she managed.
“You should be,” the woman yelled back. Her dark brown eyes looked black in their deep-set sockets. “I have never met a more incompetent woman. First you burn a hole in mistress’s new silk gown, and now you’ve knocked over the birthday cake that is to be served tonight. Was to be served to night.”
Steam was practically shooting from the woman’s ears. Alice took in short gasps of breath, unsure of what assault would come upon her next. The woman had already backhanded her twice in addition to the knuckle slapping.
“I-I-I’m sorry.” She kept her eyes down, head bend forward.
If only she weren’t so much of a klutz. She’d worked in the Simmons house for the last three years though they had all been as equally terrible as this year had been. Mrs. Marks made sure of that.
“You will not eat tonight nor tomorrow morning. We’ll see if a little starvation will teach you to be careful,” she bellowed.
“Y-yes, ma’am,” Alice replied.
“Now get out of my sight. I don't want you near anything important. Go down to the laundry room and stay there until the party is over.” The older woman slapped the back of her head as she went, making the tears fall faster.
When Alice made her way from the room she slammed her hand over her mouth, covering up the sobs that threatened to escape. She practically ran to the laundry room and quickly closed the door behind her.
“Who’s that?” said a voice behind her.
Sending out a yelp like a dog whose tail had been stepped on, Alice jumped back, slamming against the closed door.
“Oh, ‘tis you Alice,” the matronly Mrs. O’Malley said, her kind eyes taking in Alice’s frantic look. “What’s ‘appened to you, dear?”
Alice pressed her lips together, shaking her head back and forth. She couldn’t bear to say anything, let alone trust herself to speak.
“It’s Mrs. Marks, isn’t it?” The perceptive woman must have noticed the widening of Alice’s eyes because she nodded slowly. “It is her. She doesn’t let up on you now, that one doesn’t. I'm sorry to see she’s done it again.”
Alice opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She couldn't bear to have Mrs. Marks accidentally overhear her saying something contrary about her. It was better to remain silent.
“It’s all right dear,” the older woman said, her soft Irish accident soothing Alice. “We’ll make it through the party night just fine—there’s aplenty to do. But, what concerns me is after.”
Alice frowned. “After?” Her voice came out in a squeak.
“You’ve been here, what—t’ree years?”
Alice nodded.
“You ought to be married off to some handsome lad by now.”
Alice blushed. If only she could have met a handsome man who would take her away from the horror of working for Mrs. Marks. But that wasn’t about to happen in her life.
“I got me daughter up and married, you know.”
Alice took a careful step forward. “How?” she whispered.
“She became a mail order bride.” The woman beamed. “’Tis a wonderful thing, dear. She’s saving up money right now to bring me out West to live with her and her new husband. They aren’t rich by any means, but it’s a better life than here—I’ll tell you what.”
“I-I don’t know what a mail order bride is.”
The older woman beamed, her hands resting over her ample stomach. “Oh dearie, it’s simple. The Matrimony Journal publishes advertisements of men from the West. They are looking for brides—lovely girls just like you—and they’ll pay to have you go out West to them.”
Alice felt her cheeks heat. “Oh my,” she said.
“No, dear,” Mrs. O’Malley said, “Nothing untoward. They bring you out to marry. Simple as that.”
A spike of hope flickered through her. Could this be true? Could she change her own fate rather than stay enslaved and mistreated in this house?
“Is it real?”
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. O’Malley said, resting a gently hand on Alice’s shoulder. “And you know what? We’ll find you a husband and get you out of here as quick as we can. How does that sound?”
It sounded like a miracle. No, better than a miracle.
“It sounds…perfect.”
Chapter 2
Standing at the train depot Robert found all he wanted to do was run away. The only thing keeping him grounded was the fact that his son slept peacefully in his arms. Jack acted like an anchor, weighing Robert to the spot until the train arrived.
It came barreling into the station, the steam swirling around them. He checked to make sure Jack hadn’t been startled awake and couldn’t help the small smile that lit his features. Jack would always be the happiest thing he had in this life.
Looking up, his eyes collided with those of a petite woman with light blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. She looked nervous and jumped when a heavy trunk thumped down on the boardwalk next to her.
He had a feeling she was Alice Winston—his soon-to-be wife. The realization felt like a knife in his gut, but he pushed past it, remembering his son. Jack needed a mother, even if Robert didn’t need a wife.
Sucking in a deep breath, he walked forward closing the gap between them. Her gaze darted everywhere, landing on him a few times but, as if she were nervous, she averted her eyes. Of course she was nervous.
“Are you Alice Winston?” he asked, finally standing a few feet from her.
Her hands twisted a lace handkerchief and she nodded her head. “Yes.” Her voice was soft, delicate, and held a slight tremor.
“I’m Robert Ames. This is my son Jack.”
Her gaze softened when it rested on Jack, a smile forming on her thin lips.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” she said, meeting his gaze again.
Robert knew the next words he had to say wouldn’t be easy, but that they had to be said. “Are you ready to go to the church?”
Her cheeks heated to a rosy color and she nodded. “Yes.”
Without another word he turned and walked through town, hoping she was following. He knew he was being awful, not accommodating to her nerves at all, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care enough to stop. This all felt like a terrible charade. One he played in unwillingly.
They reached the church and he forced himself to wait for her, holding the door open to let her pass in front of him into the dim interior.
Pastor Rosen sat in the front row of pews, his head bowed. Robert envied the man the ability to remain calm while Robert’s own emotions were rubbed raw. They made their way down the aisle and the pastor stood, his bright smile a contrast to the solemnity of the setting.
“Hello and welcome,” he held out a hand to Alice. “You must be Miss Winston. I’m happy to meet you.”
She dipped her head, remaining mute.
“Can we begin?”
“Yes,” the pastor said, concern resting in his eyes as they jumped between Robert and Alice. No doubt he was wondering if there was any affection at all between them. �
�Let me get my wife to hold Jack for you.”
Before Robert could protest the pastor disappeared and returned quickly with his wife, a sweet, short woman with frizzy graying hair.
“Let me take the little one,” she said, smiling. “Children are a blessing, aren’t they?”
Robert nodded and Alice smiled at the kind woman before turning to look at Pastor Rosen.
“Let us begin.”
Robert stood before Alice, his eyes often jumping back to his son resting gently in the woman’s arms. His son was the reason for all of this, and it was worth it only because of him. Robert needed only to remember that. To remember Mary’s words to him, Take care of our son. Tell him always of my love.
Now, looking at Alice in front of him, he felt the absence of Mary like it was a live thing. Like part of his heart had been cut out leaving him broken. He wasn’t whole; he couldn’t be again.
He said the required words and soon they were walking out of the church as husband and wife, making their way toward his wagon.
He was a husband again, though reluctantly. Pulling Jack closer, he focused on his son. Anything for his son. Everything for his son.
***
Alice felt the pounding of her heart in her ears. It matched the rhythm of the horses as they rode toward Robert’s small shack at the edge of the ranch he worked on. It appeared in the distance and she saw that it was modest but not in disrepair. It had obviously been well maintained. That said something about the man.
She snuck a glance at Robert, almost feeling the coldness radiating off of him. He had barely said more than three words to her at a time since she’d arrived. Granted, she wasn’t talkative either, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
What did a woman say to her husband on their wedding day when all they had to go off of was a few shared letters and a mutual need? He needed a wife to care for his son, she needed a husband to care for her.
[2016] A Wanting Bride Page 14
