The Blue Ribbon Brides Collection

by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene

  “I hope you’re right, Mrs. Fitch. I hope you’re right.”

  “Luke, don’t leave things hanging if you want one special bride.” She patted his arm. “Go find her and spend the day together before you get on the train.” She dug in her satchel. “I have Bettina’s schedule. You know she loves her schedule. No surprises for that girl. She’s written which restaurant she’d be at with her parents if her talk went well. Yes, here it is.” Handing it over, she suggested, “Pray about it. Let her know how you feel. Then let God direct her path.” She tipped her head and shrugged. “Maybe she’ll even go with you. But you won’t know unless you take the chance. And you, my boy, have nothing to lose.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fitch.”

  “Off with you now. Go get your girl.”

  Luke grabbed for the thick leather harness. He bellowed a deep baritone, “Whoa, whoa there.” As the draft horse drew to a dancing stop, he gentled his voice to calm the team, fighting the adrenaline it’d taken to capture them and their runaway omnibus.

  Passersby raced to help him rescue and then comfort the injured passengers. He lifted several women out of the sideways vehicle through the broken windows. He checked inside for any more unable to get out on their own and found it empty, jumbled with belongings. Then he spotted Bettina’s favorite purple ostrich plumed hat lying in the street!

  “Bettina Gilbert!” He yelled through cupped hands down the city street the direction the horses had come. A splintered wheel, spokes poking up, lay in the center of the road. He sidestepped it, racing toward another circle of people as a man redirected other carriages to turn and go around the block before reaching 61st Street.

  As he jogged closer, he glimpsed a dove-gray skirt between people’s legs. “Please, let me through. Let me through. I’m her friend.”

  She lay on the ground, dirtied by the road but surprisingly in better condition than he’d expected. Hunkering down, he asked, “How badly hurt are you?”

  She touched her elbow where a little tear showed a scrape. “A few bumps, but if you’ll help me up—”

  Shuffling his arms under her knees and shoulders, Luke clasped her to his chest. “I was terrified.”

  She gave a breathy laugh. “Me, too.”

  Luke stood, and the gathered crowd let him through with a few pats on his shoulders as he carried Bettina to the sidewalk. He set her down on the curb and held her at arm’s length as he looked her up and down. “Are you sure you’re not badly injured?”

  She looked up into his eyes, making him want to melt with relief. “I have a few bumps and a nice tidy headache. But the worst was I had the wind knocked out of me. Is anyone else hurt?”

  “A few more than others. But they’re being taken care of now.”

  “That’s good.” She leaned against his shoulder. “I think I should change clothes before going back to the booth.”

  “Mrs. Fitch gave you the rest of the day off. I was coming to ask you to spend it with me. But it might be best to take you home to rest and have your father examine you.”

  She sat up straight. “No! I’d prefer we keep this incident between us. If Mama caught wind that I’d been … oh, no, no, no.” She pushed against him. “I’ll go home, but only to freshen up and change.”

  “All right.” He looked her over one more time. “Then I’d like to take you somewhere peaceful where we can have a quiet conversation.”

  A starry smile spread across her lips. Lips he wanted to taste more than candied caramel corn or sparkling sodas or the world’s most enticing delicacy. Tonight, he would.

  “Bettina, what I’m trying to say is I have to go home to Montana. Tomorrow morning. My train leaves at seven.” The same time she’d presented today. Could he see seven in the morning the same again?

  “Why now? There’s still months left of the exposition.”

  He sat with her on the island park bench. The craze of the carriage crash, crowds, and commotion of the fair across the canal. Surrounded by the peace of the Japanese lanterns glowing along the shaded path and the respite of Wooded Island, Luke took her hand in his. “Would you come with me?”

  “Why can’t you stay?”

  “It’s the silver. Since the government has replaced it with the gold standard, silver has been falling. Falling hard enough that I have to close one of my mines. Now the Reading Railroad has entered bankruptcy, steel has fallen. It’s a deluge of one thing after another. I have no choice but to close one of my mines and let men go.” His eyes blinked hard several times.

  “Will you come back?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice faltered. “I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to come back.”

  She watched the way his thumb moved over her knuckles in soft brushes, and her heart broke for him. “What happens now?”

  “I’ll try to relocate as many men as I can from the silver mine to the copper. With electricity coming on strong across the country, it’s possible the demand will remain. But there aren’t enough jobs in one mine to absorb all the men from another.” Luke ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m putting dozens and dozens of men out of work. Men who have families.”

  His pain flooded her body. She finally understood the other side of the mining equation. The sense of responsibility he felt for people who relied on his jobs to survive. “I’m so sorry.”

  “To look a man in the eye, while you know his fate yet he does not?” His face reddened while he rasped out, “That burden should belong to God only.”

  She wanted to hold him. To tell him she loved him and would stand by him through this terrible time. And yet, as she ached for Luke and the painful decisions he must make that would affect so many lives, so many families, Bettina knew the heaviness of that burden well. Knew the burden of looking a man in the eye and telling him what would change his fate. She knew she had to tell Luke no.

  She lifted her gaze to his, tears burning, and swayed into his arms like the cobra who’d danced to the flute. A cobra whose grace belied the bite to come. He lowered his mouth to hers. A kiss she wanted to lock in her heart forever. Her first kiss—and her last. There’d be no other for her. She knew that as much as she knew he’d come for a wife. Salty tears mingled at their lips. She dropped her arms from his warm, strong neck.

  He lifted his head and searched her wet face. “You’re not coming then, are you?”

  Bettina scrubbed a hand across her cheeks and looked away at the same green grass that she’d told Luke breathed life into the world. The same green grass she’d study to find out why it grew so fast almost anywhere while other plants didn’t. Green grass that tickled her nostrils with the scent of heaven after a rain. She kept her eyes glued on the green grass and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “How can I?”

  “You can because you love me.”

  “And I love my family.” She raised her face to his. “You don’t understand.” She stood and took a step backward.

  “No.” Luke stood and reached out for her, but Bettina backed away again. “I don’t.”

  “My parents never considered turning me out or giving me over to the state. Instead, they made me part of the family. My education, it’s all because they poured love into me. I need to use it, Luke.”

  “If they love you, they want you to be happy.”

  “But don’t you see? I can’t be happy if I bring them even a second of pain. All I am I owe to people who owed me nothing and yet gave me everything.” She leaned toward Luke, toward the life she wanted but couldn’t have. “I cannot now, or ever, hand them betrayal like that.”

  He gathered her against him, tangled his fingers into her hair, and held her tight. “I love you.”

  “Luke, I do love you. But since I can’t go with you, I—” Bettina swallowed back the lump in her throat that seemed to grow thorns, jabbing them into her. “I think you should take Janey with you.” Tears coursed down her face, wetting his shirtfront. “I need to know you’ll be happy. Then I’ll be happy, too, every t
ime I think of you. Every day.” She disentangled herself and walked into the life she’d chosen.

  “Bettina, please.”

  She stopped, turned her head, and said with finality, “No.”

  Chapter 7

  November 1, 1893

  Helena, Montana

  Luke met Frankie Shanahan on the porch as he tied his horse off. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Did you bring me some mail?” The teenager who once led a group of newsies now held a more trusted messenger position when not in school.

  “Got a letter from someone named Miss Gilbert.”

  Luke bounded down the steps into his yard. “Let’s see it.”

  Frankie flipped open his saddle pack and pulled out a newspaper and a tan envelope.

  Luke opened the envelope, scanned the message, and looked at Frankie in awe. “She’s coming.” He hooted, tossing his hat in the air and grabbing the sixteen-year-old in a bear hug. “She’s coming now!”

  Both men, one nearly to adulthood and one on the cusp of matrimony, dusted off their hats, grinning like fools. “She’ll be on the same train as our contingent returning from the exposition!”

  “I’m right pleased for you, Mr. Edwards.”

  “The train’s due in a couple hours.”

  “I wouldn’t be too far behind it, then. Some other fella might be snatchin’ yer girl.”

  Luke laughed, but they both knew the truth of his words. He sobered and took off toward the barn. “Frankie, there’ll be an extra tip in your pay this month. You’ve made me a happy man!”

  Two hours later, Luke checked each window as the train pulled into the station. He ran along the length of it, searching as passengers stepped off, thrilled to be home. Then time froze as Bettina stopped in the doorway, searching the platform until she found him. Her smile bloomed, beckoning him to her as if a golden lasso dropped around his heart and tugged.

  Bettina held out a hand, clad in the fine Spanish lace gloves he’d given her that first day, and took his, walking straight into his arms. Arms that had ached to hold her against a heart that had shredded in Chicago. He breathed in her scent as he pressed his mouth against her neck. “You came.”

  He brushed off a tap on his shoulder.

  “Excuse me, son, but that’s my daughter, and you haven’t asked my permission to be so free with her.”

  Luke jumped back and stuttered. “Your—your—” He shot a look from the taller, well-dressed man in a vested suit to Bettina and back again. He turned to Bettina, one thought on his mind. “You did come to marry me, right?”

  “Yes.” Bettina’s musical laugh soothed his sore soul. “Mr. Luke Edwards, I’d like to introduce my father, Mr. Robert Gilbert, and my mother, Mrs. Marion Gilbert.”

  He greeted them but noticed several men hanging around the train watching with curious interest. He wasn’t taking any chances with the most precious woman in the world. “Sir, if you’d give me permission to marry your daughter, I promise to love and protect her every day of my life.”

  “Wait a moment. I haven’t finished.” A mischievous smile played around her lips. “I’m sure you’d like to meet my brothers, their wives, and my nephews….”

  As she named them all, he took in the large family gathering around them under the awning of the small Helena train depot. He swallowed. She told him she’d never leave her family behind. How many were there? Shock must have registered on his face as he kept nodding at each person. “Uh, pleased to meet you. And you. And you …”

  Mr. Gilbert held out his hand. “We’re glad to meet you, too, son.”

  Luke shook the older man’s hand.

  “Our little Bettina about pined away missing you. If I were to deny you, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me.”

  It took a moment to sink in, but then Luke grinned at his future father-in-law. “I’ll do my best to see she’s happy.”

  “Now, let’s see about making this official once we find our lodgings.”

  Nodding, Luke stared around the uneven circle. The sheer volume of them and the luggage being unloaded. What would he do with them all?

  Bettina leaned in and whispered. “Papa has taken a position at St. John’s Hospital, as has my oldest brother. They’re sending carriages around.” She pointed to another man corralling a toddler. “You remember, that’s Daniel.”

  No, but he nodded.

  “Daniel will be working as a pharmacist. He has yet to determine whether the local pharmacy has room or if he’ll need to open another.”

  “Ah, I see.” He gazed at her as she spoke. “And what about you and your dreams? You’re giving them up for me?”

  Her brows drew together. “Absolutely not.” She folded her arms and announced, “I’ve been given a grant to study farming techniques in the West as part of a greater program being run through Oberlin.”

  He moved to wrap his arms around her and then stopped, remembering Mr. Gilbert’s warning. “May I?”

  “You may.”

  He kissed his bride soundly as he heard Mrs. Fitch say, “There, you see, we’ve brought home seven medals and a bride. Well done, ladies.”

  Angela Breidenbach is a bestselling author, host of Grace Under Pressure Radio, and the Christian Author Network’s president. And yes, she’s half of the fun fe-lion comedy duo, Muse and Writer, on social media.

  Note from Angela: “I love hearing from readers and enjoy book club chats. To drop me a note or set up a book club chat, contact me at angie.breidenbach@gmail.com. Let me know if you’d like me to post a quote from your review of this story. If you send me the link and your social media handle, I’ll post it to my social media with a word of gratitude including your name and/or social media handle, too!”

  For more about Angela’s books (especially more Montana-inspired romances) and podcast, or to set up a book club chat, please visit her website: http://www.AngelaBreidenbach.com

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  Dedication

  Life inside a nursing home can be very lonely without contact from the outside. Someone I had never met before took me on as a ministry. Whenever I need to make purchases, she stops by. Whenever I need a ride to church or to the store, she takes me. Whenever I need help finishing a project, she finds the time to help. Sue Blackmon, you exemplify everything a servant of Christ should be. Thank you for your friendship.

  It is not good to eat much honey: so for men to search their own glory is not glory.

  PROVERBS 25:27

  Chapter 1

  Spruce Hill, Vermont

  July 1896

  Edith Grace checked her outfit, making sure she was prepared to garner as much honey as possible in one trip. Harvesting honey for free from her neighbor was a deal made in heaven, as far as she was concerned. At the fiftieth annual Rutland State Fair, she intended to make her mark as the best baker in all of Vermont, thanks to Mr. Oscar’s honey.

  He had taught Edith how to harvest the honey from the supers over the hollow logs, called log gums for some reason. Today was the third time she had donned her veil and thick gloves to gather the liquid gold by herself. She approached the log gums with caution. Experience had taught her that bees didn’t want to sting her. It cost them their lives, after all. But experience had also taught her some stings were inevitable. Although she wasn’t allergic, they still hurt and itched. Another reason she harvested as much as possible at one time—so she could wait before returning.

  She loved this meadow. The honey only made it sweeter. Every wildflower native to Vermont swayed in the gentle breeze. No two varieties looked alike, from the green boneset that blended with the grass, to the brilliant magenta of an Indian cucumber root, to the yellow marigolds and violets that bloomed in every shade of the rainbow. Standing at the edge of the meadow, watching the flowers, the mild buzzing of bees flying to and from flower to colony made her smile every time she saw it.

&
nbsp; It was time. She put cotton balls in her ears to lessen the sound of bees buzzing and approached the third log gum. She blew smoke into the log to encourage the bees to fly away and lifted the bowl-like super.

  The honey poured into the pail, and the bees were attracted to the scent. Gloves protected her hands, the net protected her face and neck, and honey slowly filled the pail.

  The sound of a thousand angry bees assaulted her ears, but Edith ignored them by singing softly to herself. However, the noise grew louder, different.

  Someone yanked the super from her hands, her pail toppled over, and the precious honey oozed down the side. She lunged for the pail. Something—someone?—stood in her way, and she fell to the ground. The crash unsettled one glove, and bees dived on her skin. One sting. She struggled to stand. Another bee stung her hand, then a third.

  She made it to her feet, her hand on fire, and her wagon on its side, losing what honey she had gathered. She stepped toward it but stumbled.

  Strong arms caught her and picked her up. “I’m sorry.” He ran to the shelter of the trees and beyond before he sat her on the ground.

  If her hand didn’t hurt so much, she would yank the veil off and give the stranger a piece of her mind. He had caused the loss of several pints of honey and the attack on her hand. Then he had whisked her away to safety. In his strong arms she seemed to weigh no more than—a bee. The silly analogy took her mind away from the pain for a moment.

  He was talking again. Something about her bonnet? She flinched at the fear of another sting. Thick fingers touched her neck, unbuttoning the clasps that kept the bee veil in place. A fly landed on her nose, and a mosquito’s sting pierced the film of sweat on her forehead.

  She raised her hand to wipe it off, the hand that had been stung, and she yelped. That—paw—so swollen that she could hardly see her fingers. The salty sweat burned her skin.