A Sweet Mail-Order Bride for the Distant Rancher: A Western Historical Romance Book

by Lydia Olson

  He began opening the letters, which meant he missed Milton’s smile. Milton would never say it, but he was glad that Matthew was helping him. He might be a successful rancher, but he didn’t trust himself to find a wife. He wasn’t so practical that he believed that he could take his zero experience with women and turn it into a marriage. The letters from the agency talked about the ladies’ backgrounds, upbringing, and what they desired from a marriage. For Milton, it did not seem like enough information to make a sound decision, one that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Matthew was a better judge of people than he was.

  “What are your thoughts?” Milton asked impatiently.

  “Give me a moment,” Matthew said as he continued to read.

  Milton became fidgety as he waited.

  Suddenly, Matthew slid a letter towards him. “This one. She’s the one for you.”

  Milton grabbed the parchment. “Jane Parrish?” he asked. He looked over at the two letters that were still sealed. “You didn’t even read the other two!”

  “I don’t need to,” Matthew said. “That woman is your wife.”

  “What makes you so sure?” he asked. Milton hoped that his friend did not say something ridiculous. He might trust Matthew, but he did not plan to put such a decision solely in the hands of his friend if he was going to be a dunce about it.

  “She’s used to helping her father on his ranch. She’ll be used to the life, and she’s from New Mexico, so she won’t be traveling too far. You don’t want anyone who will be homesick in a few years. She’s looking for a quiet stable life, nothing too glamorous. I’ve heard some horror stories about the girls in these agencies.”

  Milton hated to admit that all of this sounded ideal. “Maybe I should read about the other girls, just to be sure …”

  Before Milton could stop him, Matthew ripped up the letters in his hands. “There’s no need,” he said. “Jane Parrish is the bride for you.”

  Milton wanted to be angry at Matthew, but he couldn’t be. Matthew had presented him with a strong option, and he knew that if left for his own devices, Milton would have agonized over the situation.

  “Now,” Matthew said, “let’s celebrate your impending marriage with another drink!” Matthew’s gregarious nature returned, and though Milton hated the festivities, he wasn’t going to stop himself from having a drink.

  Soon, you’ll be back on your own, Milton thought, as he took the cup of ale that Matthew handed to him. At least for a few more months.

  Chapter Three

  There was a hustle and bustle to the train station that Jane had not expected. She’d never been on a train before, and she felt a sense of excitement. Jane stood on the platform under the large overhang, which blocked her skin from burning in the sun.

  The smell of coal hung in the air, and the whistle of the approaching train seemed to cause a flood of people to take to the platform.

  It hadn’t taken Jane long to get to Albuquerque. Luckily one of the ranch hands was heading into town to see his mother, and she managed to convince him to take her along.

  “Miss Parrish?” an older woman asked.

  She was plump with a round, pink face full of wrinkles and deep lines. She looked kind, and Jane hoped that was the case. After all, she was entrusting this woman with her future and her safety.

  “Hello,” Jane said. “I’m Miss Parrish.”

  “Wonderful!” the woman said, clapping her thick hands together.

  Jane wasn’t sure what to say. Her stomach was nervously fluttering about, and she worried that if she spoke too much, she would surely get sick all over the train platform. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, even as she did it.

  “I’m Mrs. Smythe,” the older woman said. “I’ll be your companion for the journey to Denver.”

  Jane nodded. For nearly three months she had corresponded with both the marriage agency, and her potential new husband. Jane pressed her fingers to the inside of her dress. She had several letters in her pocket and touching them made her feel calmer.

  “Are you nervous, dear?” Mrs. Smythe asked, breaking Jane away from her thoughts.

  “Is it that obvious?” she asked, twisting her hands together.

  Mrs. Smythe gave her another kind smile. Normally, it would put her at ease, but today, Jane was sure that nothing was going to calm the nervousness in her stomach. Jane had never done anything bad. Now, she was running away from home to marry a man she had never met.

  “I’ve been doing this for some time now,” Mrs. Smythe said. “Most girls are nervous.”

  That made Jane feel a little bit better. If young women were disappearing into the wilds of the west, she doubted that the town would have allowed the agency to remain open. Unless of course, they don’t know. The thought gave her pause.

  No one outside of the agency knew where she was heading, and if her new potential husband ended up being a terrible man who treated her poorly, she would have nowhere else to go. Milton isn’t a terrible man, Jane thought. A terrible man wouldn’t talk with such reverence for the land he worked. Jane smiled at the thought of Milton Brennan, the man she was going to meet.

  “How long will you stay with me in Denver?” Jane asked.

  “Just a day or two. There’s another girl who I will be taking out to Wyoming.”

  “Oh,” Jane said. She was slightly disappointed. She hadn’t thought that she would be left alone with Mr. Brennan. She’d assumed that her chaperone would remain with her until her marriage.

  I’ve never been alone with a man. Jane’s nervousness grew, and for a moment, she thought about turning back. Her father would be angry, but she was sure that he would forgive her. The only thing that kept Jane rooted to the spot was the fact that the marriage waiting for her at home was worse than she could imagine Milton Brennan being. At least Milton isn’t old enough to be my father, Jane thought.

  Her stomach turned as she considered marriage to Brandon Eimer, the man who her father had decided would be her husband. She’d only met him once, but he’d made her skin crawl. The thought of him kept her rooted to the train platform.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Mrs. Smythe said. “You should be excited to start your new life. I’ve heard that Mr. Brennan is quite handsome.”

  Jane smiled. She was sure that Mrs. Smythe was just trying to make her feel better, and she did not want to take that away from the older woman by inferring that her statement could be wrong. Jane doubted that Mr. Brennan had met anyone from the marriage agency, just as she hadn’t. They were both going into the arrangement blind.

  The thought gave her a bit of comfort and confidence. Mr. Brennan is probably just as nervous as you are, she thought. The idea of it put her at ease.

  “I believe you are right,” Jane said. “Everything will be fine.” The whistle of the train kept Mrs. Smythe from saying anything else. Jane’s nervousness was starting to be replaced by excitement. The train was huge and all black. The whistling continued signaling to passengers that they would need to start making their way onto the train.

  “Are you ready?” Mrs. Smythe asked.

  Jane nodded. She moved toward the train not even bothering to look back.

  ***

  “Are we stopping already?” Jane asked. Her anxiety was starting to return, and she couldn’t stop bouncing her leg up and down on the leather chair of the seat. Jane and Mrs. Smythe managed to find a cabin to themselves. The privacy was nice, but Jane almost regretted not meeting more people. Having others to talk to might have kept her mind from racing.

  Though she was excited to meet Mr. Brennan and get to know him, she couldn’t stop the little bit of nervousness that still plagued her.

  “It’s not a terribly long ride,” Mrs. Smythe said.

  It really wasn’t. Jane had thought that she would have more time to gather herself, but the train was slowing, and they would be stopping soon enough. Mr. Brennan had told her that he would meet her at the train station.

  Jane
started fiddling with her dress. She had chosen one of her Sunday best, a yellow satin gown that accentuated her dark red hair. The dress was mostly plain with a high neckline. Her earrings were small pearls, which had belonged to her mother. She hadn’t had much time to style her hair, so she’d pinned it away from her face and attached a hat atop her head.

  She had sneaked out of the house at dawn and had not been able to catch a hint of her reflection. She hoped that she would be pleasing to Mr. Brennan.

  “You look lovely,” Mrs. Smythe said.

  Jane blushed and hid her face. She wasn’t normally someone who cared so much for appearances. Kate was the one who begged for new dresses and always wanted the latest fashion. Today, Jane cared.

  “The train is stopping,” Jane noted. She no longer wanted to talk about her clothing. She hoped that Mr. Brennan was not the type of man who cared so much about a woman’s looks. Beauty did not necessarily make someone a good wife or a good person. Kate was lovely, but she was mean-spirited. Whatever man married her would have to be strong-willed and not looking for someone who was willing to run his home and bear his children.

  “Are you ready?” Mrs. Smythe asked. The train had come to a stop, and the people around them were starting to gather their belongings. Jane remained seated. Her legs felt wobbly, and she needed a moment to gain her bearings. “It’s alright to feel afraid.” Mrs. Smythe’s voice was kind.

  “I’ve never done anything like this in my entire life. I’ve always followed the rules. I didn’t even tell my family …” Jane trailed off. She did not want to give Mrs. Smythe too much information. She did not know what the agency's policy was on wayward daughters, and she couldn’t afford to be sent back home.

  “Everything is going to be alright,” Mrs. Smythe said once more. She reached out and grabbed Jane’s hand. Her skin was softer than Jane had expected, and she wondered how such a woman became a chaperone working for a marriage agency. She wanted to ask, but she had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give much thought to the other woman. Thinking back, Jane felt guilty for not being a better traveling companion.

  “I can’t go back home,” Jane said, “but what if Mr. Brennan doesn’t like me?”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I’ve found that the agency is well-versed at matching people properly.”

  “Have all your girls had happy marriages?” Jane asked.

  Mrs. Smythe nodded. “As far as I know,” she said. “The agency has a reputation to uphold after all.”

  Jane was a logical woman. She wasn’t expecting Mr. Brennan to fall over himself for love of her, but she hoped that they could develop a friendship and understanding. Keep your expectations low, and you’ll be sure to be pleased, Jane reminded herself.

  “Everything will work out,” Jane said, as she lifted herself from her seat. If she kept repeating the words, she was certain that they would eventually become true. “We should start debarking. I don’t want to keep Mr. Brennan waiting too long.”

  Jane sounded formal to her own ears, but Mrs. Smythe gave her a small clap on the back and gathered her things. “That’s the spirit!” she said.

  Jane smiled at her. She would forever be grateful to have had accompaniment on her journey. Though it hadn’t been a long one, she was sure that she might have lost her nerve had she been expected to make it alone.

  “In his last letter, Mr. Brennan said that he would have a handful of yellow flowers, and that was how I could know him,” Jane told Mrs. Smythe. The train car was full of people, which she found surprising. Did this many people get on with us? she wondered.

  “That’s mighty romantic of him,” Mrs. Smythe said.

  Jane had thought so too. She was also impressed by his pragmatic thinking. She had worried about how she would know it was him at the train station. It had caused her great upset to think about walking up to every man in a white hat and asking if he was the one whom she was meant to marry.

  She tried not to giggle at the thought.

  As they got closer and closer to the doorway, Jane started to feel a bit of heat creep into her cheeks. Her mind whirled with all of the insecurities she always kept bottled inside, and once more, she allowed herself to think about what might happen if Mr. Brennan did not care for her.

  The train station looked just as it did in Albuquerque, only larger. Denver was a busier city, so it made sense.

  Stepping out into the warm afternoon air, she allowed herself to take a deep, calming breath. It was then that she saw him. Mr. Brennan was standing at the end of the platform very near where she would be departing, and he was holding a lovely bouquet of yellow flowers.

  The moment his dark, brown eyes caught hers, she could have sworn that she stopped breathing for a moment. Milton Brennan was the most handsome man that Jane had ever set eyes on. He was incredibly tall, muscular (she could tell by the way his shirt fit against his chest), and his hair shone like gold. He reminded her of the Greek sun god Apollo, whom she’d read about in a book of mythology her ma left her. The thought made her cheeks burn brightly.

  “You better go and greet the young man,” Mrs. Smythe advised.

  “Where will you be? Are you leaving already?”

  Mrs. Smythe shook her head. “No, no dear. I’ll stay to serve as witness, but then, I’ll be on my way to my next charge.”

  Jane wasn’t quite sure what Mrs. Smythe meant. Witness to what? But as she felt the older woman nudging her forward, she knew that she’d lost her chance to ask. Jane stepped out onto the platform and began walking toward Mr. Brennan with her head held high. She was determined to make a good impression, and she would.

  I’ll do whatever is necessary to be the absolute best wife I can be. After all, she didn’t have much of a choice.

  Chapter Four

  Milton was sure that he was quite mad. He’d been corresponding with Miss Jane Parrish for three months. They’d exchanged dozens of letters before he’d made an official offer of marriage.

  By no means did Milton regret his choice, but that didn’t stop a bead of sweat from forming on the back of his neck as he waited for Miss Parish to descend. He’d never thought much about marriage, and he’d thought even less about the woman whom he would marry. Standing there, he couldn’t help but pray that he had made the right choice.

  Though he viewed his marriage as a transaction where he would provide a good, stable life, and his wife would provide him with a partner and heir, he knew that even in a transactional marriage, things could go terribly wrong. Milton did not care for dramatics of any type, and though Jane seemed logical and sweet, he’d never actually met her.

  Such is the problem with going through a marriage agency, he thought. He felt like a dunce standing on the platform in his Sunday best with a fistful of yellow flowers. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wondered if bringing his bride flowers was the best idea. He did not want her first impression of him to be as a romantic, which was something he certainly was not.

  Don’t be ridiculous, he thought. Every bride needs flowers on her wedding day, even yours.

  “Excuse me?” a soft voice asked. Milton had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed a slender young woman with striking red curls sneak up on him. “Are you Mr. Brennan?” Her voice was soft. If he hadn’t been listening intently, Milton was sure that he wouldn’t have heard her over the din of the bustling crowd.

  “You must be Miss Parrish,” he said. He couldn’t imagine who else she would be.

  “Please,” she said. “Call me Jane.”

  Milton nodded. He was glad that she was dispensing with the formalities early on. He wasn’t good with things like manners. Milton was used to working on the ranch and nice breeding didn’t get anyone very far when it came to herding cattle and mucking our barn stalls.

  “Milton,” he said. “And these are for you.” He thrust the flowers toward her with more force than he meant. The gesture felt foolish, but as he watched her face light up, he suspected that he mi
ght be making more foolish gestures in the future. He liked the way her eyes sparkled like polished silver when she smiled.

  “They’re lovely,” she said, bringing them up to her face.

  “They are black-eyed Susans,” he told her. “They grow on my property. I thought you might like something for your wedding bouquet.”

  “Wedding bouquet?” she asked. Her gray eyes were no longer sparkling, and instead she looked confused.

  This does not bode well, Milton thought. Jane Parrish was lovely. There was no doubt about it. With her skin the color of fresh cream and her dark red curls, she would be the envy of all the young women in Denver. Milton wasn’t a vain man, but he could appreciate and revel in having a beautiful wife. There were advantages to such a thing; however, he would not be glad to have a pretty bride if she were also simple-minded.