Mail Order Brides Western Romance Collection ~ 3-Book Bundle (Brides of Virtue Series 1)

by Jill Maguire

  “Grace, I need you to push one last time, real hard. That’s it. Here he is.” The joy had gone out of Faith’s voice and her hands worked quickly. With the babe in her lap, Faith untangled the cord, cut it and began to massage the baby’s chest. Grace collapsed against her damp pillows, breathing heavily and crying.

  “He’s here, he’s here,” Grace murmured. Then she brought her head up suddenly. “He’s not crying. Faith, why isn’t he crying? What’s wrong?” Grace’s voice neared hysterics, but Faith didn’t answer her. She was trying everything she knew to open the baby’s airways, but nothing worked. Faith let her tears fall over the still baby in her lap. He was so precious, so beautiful and bitterly perfect.

  “Faith?” Grace whispered sadly.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Faith wept and held the baby close to her chest. Grace saw her child, motionless and blue and let out a blood-chilling wail.

  “Give me my baby! Give me my baby!” Grace cried hysterically. Faith laid the tiny body in her friend’s trembling hands as Rex burst through the door, staring in shock at the tragic scene before him.

  “The cord was tied around his neck. I tried everything I could. I’m so sorry,” Faith cried, falling to her knees and giving way to her own sobs. Grace rocked the baby, and wept.

  Faith was not prepared for what came next. Rex, having gained his mind once again, reached down and roughly pulled Faith to her feet by one arm.

  “What have you done?!” Rex yelled, his frothing mouth only inches from Faith’s face. “Get out of my house! Don’t you ever come near this house or my wife again! Get out!” Rex began to shove Faith toward the door. Suddenly fear for her own life gripped her. She didn’t take time to collect her things, or plead for Grace’s forgiveness. She fled out the door and ran all the way home, tears splashing down her reddened cheeks.

  The sun was rising in all its splendor in the east, but all Faith could see was darkness and despair. When she reached home, she collapsed on her bed, clutching her heaving chest. She wept for the loss of the baby, for Grace’s pain and even for Rex and his unspeakable grief. She rubbed the bruise on her arm and thought about the look in Rex’s eyes as he pushed her out the door. She had no doubt in her mind that Rex was angry enough to kill her that night.

  Faith remained home all day, grieving. She wanted desperately to check in on Grace, but didn’t dare go near the house after Rex’s threats. She spent the day finishing the baby’s blanket through her tears and tried to sleep. She had never delivered a still-born baby before and now new images haunted her whenever she closed her eyes.

  Over the next several days Faith went out little. The first time she ventured out into the community, Faith sensed a hostility that she had never experienced in the small town before. No one greeted her as they normally did and no one approached her with questions about pregnancy or labor, or the latest baby. Then one day, not long after the incident with the Knowles, Faith ran into Grace at the market.

  “Grace!” She exclaimed in surprise. She didn’t quite know what to say to the woman who must surely still be grieving, and who had every right to feel bitter towards Faith. “Why aren’t you at home? You should be resting.” Faith touched Grace’s arm with the caring caress of an old friend. Grace pulled Faith quickly aside, tears swimming in her eyes.

  “You should leave Faith. Rex is……,” she stuttered. “I can’t say what he might do if he saw you again.” Grace glanced around in fearful agitation. Faith could tell that Grace had lost weight and looked exhausted and haggard.

  “Grace, I can never tell you how sorry I am for what happened.” Faith’s own eyes brimmed with tears. “If only I could have done more,” her voice breaking over a sob.

  “It was not your fault,” Grace whispered emphatically. “I don’t blame you. I know you did all you could for my boy. But please…..”

  Before she could finish, Faith felt a strong hand grab her arm and whirl her around roughly.

  “You!” Rex yelled accusingly at Faith. “How dare you speak to my wife, woman. Get away from her.” Rex stabbed his finger at Faith and leaned dangerously close to her face. “If I ever see you again, you’ll wish you’d never laid foot in this town.”

  Rex towered over Faith. She tried not to let on that she was frightened, but her thumping heart and the sting of tears prevented her from doing anything but yank her arm from Rex’s angry clutch. Rex grabbed Grace and ushered her out of the market.

  Chapter 3

  Once she returned home, Faith paced through her house, shaking violently after her second encounter with Rex Knowles. She buried her face in her hands, knowing she could not live like this anymore, in fear of leaving her own house and being unfairly treated by her community. Faith sat down at her kitchen table and folded her hands in prayer. Please Lord, what am I to do? Please guide me.

  Her eyes floated across the small kitchen table to the newspaper she had purchased in town. An advertisement for a mail-order bride stood out against the small print of news stories and Faith read it intently. She clutched the paper to her chest and walked to her writing desk.

  She skimmed the advertisement again before taking paper and pen in hand and began writing to the gentleman calling for a bride. He sounded gentlemanly enough, and Faith remembered her friend Patience had been travelling west to meet a new husband. If Patience had agreed to marry a man she had never met, the idea must not be so wild. It was the best and only option Faith had. She needed to get out of this town.

  Throwing a shawl over her head, Faith snuck out of her house to mail the letter straightaway. The sooner she could leave the better.

  Faith trekked to the post office each morning for the next two days, but only when she knew Rex would be at the mill. While she waited for a reply, she packed her few possessions, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. On the third day she received a letter.

  Esteemed lady,

  Thank you for sending word in reply to my advertisement, and thank you for consenting to marry me. I would be honored if you would meet me at the train station in Whistle Stop, Wyoming at three o’clock on Friday. There you will find me waiting. I will wear a red shirt and brown vest. The minister will be accompanying me so as to marry us right away. I will then reimburse you for your travels. I look forward to meeting you, my bride.

  Sincerely yours,

  Mr. Clintock

  Faith read the short missive a few times through. It sounded very formal which made her a little uneasy, but she had no choice. Everything was arranged and she would soon be ridding herself of this town, and putting many miles between her and Rex Knowles.

  When Faith departed town on Friday, no one was there to see her off. Not one member of the community knew she was leaving town, and no one knew, or cared, that she wouldn’t be back. Faith had never felt more alone in her life.

  She took her seat on the train, leaned her head back and closed her eyes with a sigh. It was several hours to Whistle Stop and during the ride, Faith looked vacantly out the window. The vast, arid Wyoming landscape raced by and the deep blue sky looked as if it were going to swallow up the land. The land was rough and raw, much like Faith’s own heart but she knew she could endure in this land. Wyoming would make her resilient and surviving.

  Faith’s thoughts wandered around nothing in particular. A few times she considered her new husband, the man she would meet that day and marry. It was very unorthodox, but Faith decided to throw herself into her new life and leave the brooding and grief behind her. This was a fresh start. But why did all fresh starts have to be born from sorrow and loss?

  As the train pulled into the station at Whistle Stop, Faith stood and stretched. A wave of fatigue came over her as she stepped from the train with her valise. The station was much larger and newer than the one Faith had come from, and the town beyond seemed to pulse with life. She felt optimistic about starting over in this bigger, gleaming town.

  Faith straightened, her chin lifting, and drew in a refreshing breath. She looked aroun
d for a man in a red shirt and brown vest, but no such man could be found among the people coming and going.

  Standing in one spot beside a bench, Faith held her baggage in front of her and continued to scan the crowds for the elusive man. Then she spotted a man walking toward her. He was wearing a red shirt. Perhaps he had forgotten about the vest?

  “Excuse me,” Faith spoke up as it seemed that the man was going to walk right past her. The man stopped and eyed her warily. “Are you Mr. Clintock?”

  Chapter 4

  “No,” the man said and simply walked on.

  Hours passed. Faith sat dejectedly on the bench, her valise in her lap. She kept her eyes open for the man who had written to her, but she knew it was futile. He wasn’t coming. Perhaps there was no Mr. Clintock and it had all been an evil prank.

  The sun lowered toward the horizon and the town took on an amber haze. Faith was tired and hungry and as the train station emptied of its crowds, Faith felt utterly alone. She also felt like a complete fool. How could she have run off so quickly to marry a man she didn’t know? A man whom had written her only one strange missive?

  Anger burned the tears from her eyes and her she squinted with malice. Faith stood, straightened her long skirt and spotted an inn across the road from the station. She had very little money left after her travelling expenses but hoped someone there would show her some kindness. Faith made her way toward it through the gathering dark.

  “Welcome, ma’am,” the proprietor greeted her with a nod of his head. “What can I do for you this fine evening?” The man was tall and lean, and looked nice enough. Faith hoped his kindness would extend to a strange, displaced woman.

  “Hello sir, I was hoping to find food and a room for the night. Though, this is all I have.” Faith meekly laid all the money she had on the counter before him. The man eyed the money and looked at Faith disparagingly. Hoping not to have to divulge her embarrassing story of being left at the train station by a mysterious man, Faith smiled shyly and gave the man a humble, pleading expression. The man sighed.

  “This will get you one night, and some bread. That’s all I can offer,” the man said snappishly and raised an eyebrow as he turned away from her. “Follow me.”

  Faith hurried to follow the man down a dimly-lit hallway. He stopped at the end, pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and handed the key to Faith.

  “Return this to me in the morning. I will bring some dinner for you shortly.” The man stalked off and Faith opened the door to her room.

  After eating her simple meal of bread and butter, a few thin slices of meat and some water, Faith exhaustedly fell right to sleep on the unfamiliar mattress.

  As day broke the next morning, Faith slipped out of the inn before anyone stirred. She didn’t know quite what to do, but she knew she had no money to offer and the proprietor certainly wouldn’t want her hanging around any longer than necessary.

  Once outside, Faith looked around in the pearly dawn light. Whistle Stop was still peacefully asleep with no one yet taken to the streets. Then, Faith heard a sharp metallic sound coming from a tiny shop at the far end of town. She walked toward it, drawn by this one sign of life.

  The sounds continued and led Faith to the blacksmith’s open-air shop. Faith sighed, discouraged. It was unlikely she was going to find much help from a blacksmith so she turned away, intending to walk back to the train station.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” A deep voice came from inside the shop, the sound of it slowly rolling over her.

  There was something intangibly kind in the tone of his voice. Hesitantly, Faith turned to face the shop owner. Her eyes met the broad chest of a man outfitted in blacksmith’s leather and she slowly lifted her eyes to the man’s face, towering over her. His height and muscular build made the menacing Rex Knowles look small in comparison and yet when Faith’s eyes met his, she saw a softness that put her immediately at ease. Instinctively, Faith’s heart believed that this mountain of a man would never hurt her as Rex had. Still, she was determined to remain cautious and closed.

  “Hello,” Faith took a few steps closer.

  “The name’s Hayes Morgan,” the blacksmith spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling up from his chest. Did she detect a hint of laughter in his clear, pale blue eyes? “And you are?”

  “Faith, I’m Faith Decker.” The words came out stuttered.

  “Well Faith, Faith Decker, would you like to come have a seat?”

  Faith wanted to protest and leave immediately. How could she accept anything from a strange man now? Recent events gave her every reason to turn tail and run.

  “Please, come in. You look like you can hardly hold yourself upright,” Hayes beckoned.

  Faith’s cheeks flamed, not realizing that her situation was that transparent. But she couldn’t deny that a seat sounded wonderful. Faith followed Hayes to a corner of the shop where two chairs were set with a small table between them. This corner of the shop seemed to escape the soot and mess of the blacksmith’s work, a small oasis in a jungle of metallic chaos. The table was even set with a coffee service.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Hayes asked, eyeing Faith’s worn and pale face.

  “Yes please,” Faith said gratefully. Hayes poured her a generous cup, then without saying another word he left through a door at the back of the shop and returned moments later with a plate full of delicious-looking breakfast and a small pitcher of milk. Faith found herself unsure of this man, a stranger who came out of the darkness and despair to provide just what she needed.

  “Thank you. This is so kind of you,” Faith whispered, not quite trusting her voice.

  “What brings you to Whistle Stop?” Hayes asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Something about this man felt so comfortable to Faith. She found herself wanting to tell him everything, to confide in the one person who had showed her any kindness since the death of the Knowles baby. But Faith chose her words carefully, keeping to the truth even though it was embarrassing to do so.

  “I replied to an advertisement for a mail-order bride. When I showed up at the train station yesterday, no one was there to meet me.” Hayes looked at Faith in disbelief. Faith couldn’t tell if he was shocked over her agreeing to a mail-order marriage, or to the fact that her supposed husband-to-be never showed up. She hoped it was the latter.

  “I’m sorry,” Hayes finally said. “So, now you’re stuck,” he surmised after a few moments of silence. Faith nodded without meeting his eyes. “You don’t know anyone in Whistle Stop?”

  Faith shook her head. She felt very vulnerable and at the mercy of this man, but his care and kind face encouraged her. Hayes sighed.

  “Well, you can stay here with me for a while if you need to. It isn’t much but there is a room over the shop that I can sleep in, giving you the rest of the house.”

  “That is too generous of you. Please don’t go out of your way for me,” Faith protested, fear springing up from a deep well within her. She met his eyes apologetically. Such pale blue eyes he had.

  “Do you have another option?” Hayes asked with soft amusement. Faith was taken aback by the way his face seemed to always hold a soft humor, and yet she could also detect a deep suffering.

  Chapter 5

  “Well, no I suppose I have no other option. Thank you for your offer,” Faith smiled shyly at Hayes.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  Faith began to pick up the dirty dishes and Hayes helped, collecting the milk and empty coffee pot. Arms full, Faith followed Hayes through the door he had gone through earlier and they walked down a small hallway and entered an open room. The kitchen and dining room were to the right and a sitting room was to the left. Faith glanced around in delighted amazement. The kitchen and sitting room were spacious yet cozy, but even more surprising was that everything was in perfect order and immaculately clean.

  Hayes continued into the kitchen where he placed the coffee pot on a large pot-bellied stove and the milk in the middle of th
e table. He motioned to a wash basin where Faith put the dirty dishes.

  Secretly, Faith surveyed the room. The wood stove stood in the corner of the kitchen with a comfortable chair next to it, a cozy spot for a cold winter’s night, Faith thought. The rest of the kitchen was well-supplied and there were even curtains hanging in the window and a white cloth over the table. Faith turned and eyed Hayes.

  “I told you it wasn’t much,” he said with a humble air. Faith opened her mouth to protest, and then reined her words in.

  “It’s perfect. I like it, Mr. Morgan.”

  “Please, call me Hayes.”

  Hayes Morgan, what are you doing? Hayes chided himself. How could he invite a strange woman into his home? To stay? He had always been soft when it came to those in need. Hayes shook his head, trying to convince himself that inviting her to stay had nothing to do with the fact that Faith was exceptionally beautiful. Those dewy gray eyes and long eyelashes were enough to bend any man’s will to hers. Hayes chuckled to himself. If the man who had arranged for Faith to come to Whistle Stop had laid eyes on her, he may not have been so quick to abandon his new wife.

  Hayes cleared his throat to free his thoughts and to gain Faith’s attention. She had been looking around the house as if she had never seen one quite like it before.

  “I have a lot of orders to finish today in the shop. Please, make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything.” Hayes turned toward the door to the shop but Faith’s soft voice stopped him.

  “Hayes, thank you again.” Faith gave him a smile that knocked him off guard and hinted at the carefree soul hidden under this woman’s obvious pain. Hayes nodded curtly and left.