COPYRIGHT
The County Fair Bride © 2015 by Vickie McDonough
The Honey Bride © 2015 by Diana Lesire Brandmeyer
The Columbine Bride © 2015 by Davalynn Spencer
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All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
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THE COUNTY FAIR BRIDE
by Vickie McDonough
CHAPTER 1
Bakerstown, Missouri
May 20, 1892
The slowing train screeched like Aunt Louise did whenever she encountered a mouse. Prudence Willard smiled at the image her thought provoked, but as she stared at the Bakerstown Depot, growing bigger with each yard she traveled, all humor fled. Her stomach churned faster while the train decreased its speed. Would her mother be waiting? In light of the illness Prudy’s father was experiencing, more than likely her mother would not. Dare she hope some of her friends would be there to greet her? Did they even know she was returning?
Prudy sat back in the seat. She dreaded facing the townsfolk after her shameless pursuit of Clay Parsons, the town’s only pastor. And to think she’d attempted to get Clay’s fiancée—Karen Briggs, who was now his wife—to leave town. And she almost did. She’d treated the kind woman horribly, and it would serve her right if not a soul showed up to welcome her home.
The train shuddered to a stop, like a beast of burden exhausted from a long journey. Several people picked up their satchels and headed for the door. A part of Prudy wished she could keep on riding down the track, but she needed to see her father. They’d never been close, but he was gravely ill, and she hoped she might be able to cheer him during his remaining days on earth. Heaving a sigh, she rose, picked up her travel bag, and headed for the door.
As she debarked the train and searched the platform, her hopes of a cheerful welcome plummeted. She didn’t see a soul she knew. With a sigh, she walked down the platform and handed the porter the baggage-claim ticket for her trunk. A few minutes later, after making arrangements for her belongings to be delivered to her parents’ home, she picked up her satchel and headed for the stairs. Just as she reached the top, a man dressed in a gray sack coat and trousers rushed up the stairs, his gaze directed toward the train. Since he was obviously in a hurry and hadn’t spotted her, she stepped back, lest he run her down.
The man buzzed past her as he reached the platform. Suddenly he halted and spun around. A pair of deep blue eyes, set in a handsome face, turned her way and widened. He yanked off his straw hat, releasing his thick, dark hair, which tumbled onto his forehead. He moved forward, forking his hair across his head. “Miss Willard?”
More than a little intrigued, Prudy nodded. “Yes. And who might you be?”
His cheeks flushed a bright red as he replaced his hat. “I’m Adam Merrick. Your mother asked me to see you home since she didn’t want to leave Mr. Willard. . .uh . . .your. . .uh. . .father alone.”
Prudy bit back a smile at the flustered man, who looked to be only a few years older than herself. She couldn’t resist teasing the befuddled man. “I do know who Mr. Willard is.”
“Uh. . .of course.” He offered his elbow. “Shall we?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m quite anxious to see how my father is faring.” She looped her arm around his and glanced up. “Do you know how he is doing?”
The man’s lips firmed as he pressed them together. “You should probably consult your mother concerning that.”
She nodded. Turning to the stairs, she released his arm and shifted her satchel to her other hand so that she could hold onto the railing as she descended. The last thing she wanted to do was fall flat on her face in front of her shy but charming escort.
“Do allow me to carry that.” He suddenly snatched the bag from her. “I’m sorry for not offering in the first place.”
Thrown off balance, Prudy hovered on the top step, toes hanging over, and flapping her arms. Like a duck stuck in the mud, her efforts availed her little. Mr. Merrick dropped her satchel onto the edge of her skirt and yanked her toward him, away from the drop-off. Her foot hit the bag, and she fell hard against his chest, taking them both to the ground. A woman behind them gasped. Prudy pushed against his solid chest, wrestling her tangled skirts, and struggled to sit.
Less encumbered, Mr. Merrick hopped up. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Willard. I really don’t know how that happened.”
Prudy refrained from fussing at him. Even flustered, the man certainly was comely, but she wasn’t attracted to his bumbling manner in the least. “I don’t suppose you could help me up.”
“Oh! Um. . .certainly.” He shoved his hand in front of her face, and she took it. He proved quite capable, hoisting her back onto her feet. She avoided looking at him and straightened her skirts. Peeking around the depot, cheeks blazing, she was relieved to note they were the only ones left. Thank goodness only a few people witnessed her humiliating stumble.
She was of a mind to give him a good tongue-lashing, but she was trying to change her ways. Better to pretend the embarrassing deed never happened. Needing distance, Prudy bypassed her satchel, grabbed hold of the railing, and safely descended the stairs. At least she hadn’t fallen down them. The last thing her mother needed was for her to show up in need of care. The year and a half with Aunt Louise had helped her grow up and see how selfish she once was. She shivered at the thought of how rudely she’d treated others.
Though glad to be home, she couldn’t deny she had many reservations. Would the townsfolk give her a chance to prove she was different? Or would they assume her to be the same sometimes cruel woman she had once been?
Mr. Merrick hurried to catch up with her quick steps.
“I assume by the quick pace you’re keeping you weren’t injured.” He shifted her bag to his other hand and reached for her elbow, tugging her to a stop when she’d have trotted across the street in front of a nearby wagon. “What’s the rush, Miss Willard?”
To get away from you before some other reprehensible event occurs. “I’m anxious to see my parents, of course.”
“Well, it won’t do for you to get run down by a buckboard before you see them.”
She jerked free of his hold and lifted her chin. “I didn’t plan on getting run over.”
Instead of being taken aback, he had the audacity to grin. He pushed his hat back on his head. “And I bet you didn’t plan to fall at my feet the first time we met.”
Prudy sucked in a breath. The bumbling fool had been replaced by a rogue—and she didn’t know which one she liked the least. She attempted to snatch her bag from his hold, but he refused to let go. She glared at him, but inside she secretly admired the vivid blue of his eyes, only a few shades darker than her own. Who was Adam Merrick? And how
did he know her parents?
She blinked. She was staring too long.
Spinning, she picked up her skirts and made a beeline for her house. The sooner she was away from this intriguing, insufferable man, the better.
Adam watched the princess sashay toward her castle for a moment then rushed once again to catch up with the feisty woman. Mr. Willard had warned him his daughter could be as blunt as the hot end of a branding iron—her fiery tongue stung as much. He smiled at the man’s comment. Prudy Willard was feisty, that was for sure, but she hadn’t been rude or cruel—not even when he’d caused her to fall down and create a spectacle. He suspected her father was exaggerating a tad bit.
He blew out a loud sigh. Being late to greet her certainly wasn’t the way to impress the lady, not that he wanted to. Still, since he’d taken over her father’s job as mayor of the town, he was sure to see her on a regular basis and would like to be on friendly terms. But as she hurried to get away from him, he doubted she would be eager to see him again.
Her father should have warned him of her beauty. He’d been so taken off guard when he first saw her that he’d been tongue-tied—and he had never been accused of that before. She must think him a bumbling fool.
Ah well. What did it matter? He had a job to focus on—guiding this town and preparing it to ease into the twentieth century. He had no business worrying what a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty thought of him.
His head was full of ideas for improving the town’s business structure and bringing more money to Bakerstown, and he’d love to see electricity brought to the town by the turn of the century. He even had an idea for bricking the streets so that the townsfolk no longer had to walk through a quagmire after a heavy rainfall. Surely the women would appreciate such a gesture. But Bakerstown was a small town, and as such, his annual budget was minuscule.
Adam dodged a pile of fresh manure and caught up with Miss Willard. A pair of lovely blue eyes flicked his direction then quickly away. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected in Prudence Willard, but her name had him imagining a book lover in a drab dress with glasses and a bun so tight it pulled her eyes into slits. Instead, her pretty hair, the color of corn silk, poofed around her face in a very feminine manner. Behind her, thick locks hung in dangling ringlets. His foot hit a rock. Adam took several quick steps and righted himself as heat marched up his neck. Miss Willard stopped in front of the gate to her parents’ yard and eyed him like he was three-day-old trout. He picked up her satchel and dusted it off, then cleared his throat and motioned to the gate. “Allow me.”
She stepped back with a loud sigh. Adam opened the gate and held it for her to pass through, never having felt so inept. No one would know he’d graduated from Briar Glen College at the top of his class with a business degree. It’s what had allowed him to get the job as the mayor’s assistant in the first place.
As he helped Miss Willard up the porch steps, he shook his head. What had started out as a beautiful day had ended up as one of the worst of his life.
CHAPTER 2
Prudy rushed into her mother’s arms, glad to finally be home. She’d wanted to return around Easter, but the town had been dealing with an influenza outbreak, and her mother wouldn’t hear of her coming back until it was over. Then her father came down with that awful illness, and Mother had postponed her return once again.
“How is Papa? Any better?”
Her mother stepped back, shaking her head. “I’m afraid not.” She looked past her daughter, and her gaze lit up. She slipped around Prudy. “Mr. Merrick, I can’t thank you enough for seeing Prudence home.”
“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Willard.” His gaze shot to Prudy and back to her mother. “Where would you like me to put your daughter’s satchel?”
“Just set it on the hall tree bench. I’ll have Clarence take it upstairs.”
Mr. Merrick did as ordered then stood in the foyer holding his hat. “Forgive me, but did I hear you say Emmett—uh. . .Mr. Willard is no better?”
Helen Willard nodded. “He had a rough night—trouble sleeping.”
“Then I won’t ask to see him.” He looked at Prudy. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Willard. I look forward to seeing you again.” He donned his hat and gave a slight bow toward her mother. “Good day, Mrs. Willard.”
“Thank you again for bringing Prudence home, and if Emmett is doing well on Friday, I’ll expect you and your sister for dinner.”
Mr. Merrick smiled. “Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
Prudy watched in surprise as her mother touched Mr. Merrick’s arm. “No bother. You know Emmett enjoys your visits and hearing about your week.”
“Jenny always enjoys the time, too.” He shot a quick glance toward Prudy, touched the end of his hat, and spun toward the stairs. Helen closed the door then turned and stared at Prudy. “You’re a bit taller, I believe—and you’ve lost some weight. Did Louise not feed you properly?”
“Of course she fed me well.” Prudy hated the rivalry between her mother and Aunt Louise. Though sisters, the two were completely different. Why couldn’t her mother be as sweet and gracious as Louise? “What’s this about Mr. Merrick and his sister coming for dinner?”
“When your father had the stroke after his severe sickness, Mr. Merrick was elected interim mayor, and he’s tried hard to keep Emmett informed of all he’s doing, even though it’s not required of him.”
“Does he need Papa’s guidance in order to do the job properly? I have to say he seemed quite a bumbling fool today.”
Her mother cocked her head, looking perplexed, and then she smiled. “Adam must have been disarmed by your beauty. I’ve always found him to be quite capable.”
Prudy decided her mother must be enamored with Mr. Merrick’s comeliness. It wasn’t like her shrewd mother to admire the very person who’d taken over her husband’s job. That must be it.
She glanced up the stairs. “Is Papa awake? I’m anxious to see him.”
Her mother pursed her lips and gave a brief shake of her head. “No, I’m afraid he was sleeping a few moments ago, just before I came downstairs.” Helen looped her arm through Prudy’s. “I have tea ready in the parlor. Come.”
She hadn’t been home two minutes, and her mother was already telling her what to do. She forced herself to relax, knowing her mother had missed her. And tea would taste good, especially if it were cold. Though it was only late May, the temperature was already quite warm. “Tea sounds wonderful. Thank you, Mother.”
Helen beamed as she guided Prudy into the parlor. “So, tell me, how is that sister of mine?”
“Aunt Louise is well. She wanted to accompany me, but with Papa still ill, she thought it best to wait. She may come this fall and stay with Aunt Loraine.”
“That was thoughtful of her to wait.”
Thoughtful was a good word to describe her kindhearted aunt. Her mother was a busybody, always trying to tell people what to do or how to act, but Aunt Louise was quiet and preferred baking a pie to intruding in someone else’s business. Prudy sighed.
While her mother filled her in on the town’s activities, Prudy’s thoughts turned to Adam Merrick. As interim mayor, he was to oversee the town until her father could return to work. He hardly seemed capable of such a task. Maybe she should talk with her father and then visit Mr. Merrick at the office to make sure he wasn’t overstepping his authority.
“Prudence, you’re not listening.”
She blinked, sorry she had gotten caught lost in her thoughts. “I’m sorry, you said someone was with child?”
Her mother nodded, smiling wide. “Pastor Clay’s wife is in the family way.”
“That’s. . .uh. . .nice.” Prudy sat back in her chair. The man she’d once hoped to marry would be a father soon. And the woman who’d ruined her dreams would hold his child in her arms. She sighed. Aunt Louise told her she needed to put aside her disappointment of not marrying Clay Parsons and look to the future. Prudy had been able to do that at her
aunt’s home, but now that she was back and would surely face the two who had broken her heart, it was much harder. “So, is there still only one church in town?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Her mother reached across the table and laid her hand on Prudy’s arm in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “I realize it may be hard for you to face Pastor Parsons and Karen, but it’s best to just do it and get it over with. I’ve found they are both kind, forgiving people.”
“Perhaps I’ll sit with Papa while you attend church.”
“No, that won’t work. Dr. Blaylock comes to play chess with Emmett every Sunday morning—at least they play when Emmett is able.”
There would be no escaping her fate. Suddenly, Prudy felt as wrung out as a mop. “So, tell me about Papa. Is he getting any better?”
Her mother’s lips tightened into a straight line. “I wish I could say yes, but the truth is, he’s worse, if anything. He hasn’t been able to regain his strength. His severe case of influenza would have been fatal to a weaker man, and then he had the stroke before he had a chance to fully recover.” Helen batted her lashes and stared out the parlor window. “I don’t know how I’ll go on if—”
Prudy rose and hurried around the table, bending down to hug her mother. “Don’t think of that now. We’ll pray and do what we can each day to help Papa and try not to worry about the future.”
A few minutes later, Prudy stepped into her frilly, pink bedroom. It looked like something that belonged to a young girl. She took a slow spin, studying the pink-and-white-striped draperies with rows of ruffles, the matching quilt, and the striped sofa and pink side chair. She felt as if she had walked into a peppermint stick factory. Before she left town, she had loved the bright room, but now it left her nauseated. Had she really changed so much?
Perhaps her mother would allow her to paint and make some other changes. It would give her something to do—besides overseeing Mr. Merrick.
The next morning, Prudy strode into the mayor’s office. The door made a familiar click as she closed it. Most of her teen years, her father had been mayor, and she’d visited him here many times after school before heading home. Even though she knew Adam Merrick was more than likely using her father’s desk as his own, seeing him sitting there still rattled her.
The 12 Brides Of Summer (Novella Collection Book 4) Page 1
