New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  Emma’s heart swelled. In all her mourning, she hadn’t thought of the practical, yet dismal situation regarding the disposal of Charlie’s corpse.

  “Thank you,” Emma said with tears welling in her eyes.

  “You’re quite welcome,” Ian smiled. “He was a good dog, and he deserved a proper burial.”

  Emma nodded and uncrossed her arms.

  “As far as the rest of the time I was away,” Ian continued, “I had some other things to tend to as well. The next day, I went into town and explained what had happened to Mr. and Mrs. Smyth, so that they wouldn’t think you walked away from your chance to work with them. As they are both fond of animals themselves, they completely understood. And Mr. Smyth asked me to tell you that he would like very much for you to come work for him once you are able to.”

  Again, in her mourning, Emma hadn’t even thought about this practical aspect of the tragic event. In all her sadness, she’d forgotten that she never went back to the clothing shop as planned, and she hadn’t even considered how her failure to show up could have affected her getting the job. But apparently Ian had thought about these things—and he’d taken care of them for her.

  At this point, Emma felt that tickling in her tummy again, and for the first time, she acknowledged it for what it actually was. “That was… that was very sweet of you to do,” she stuttered, overwhelmed by the genuine affection she felt for Ian.

  Ian nodded. “I did what needed to be done,” he said. “And later that day, I went on to do what else was needed… I went out and searched for Kenneth Foster, so that he could be brought to justice for killing Charlie, manhandling you, and causing chaos in town. It took me some time to find him. But I eventually did track him down. He was drunk again and in an awful state.

  “I managed to hogtie him and bring him to the sheriff’s station in town. He’s been charged with disrupting the peace, unlawful killing of a domestic animal, and attempted kidnapping—and when he is convicted, which he surely will be, he’ll end up spending a lot of time in jail for what he did.”

  This, too, was something that Emma hadn’t considered in her grief, and again she was moved that Ian had. She was just about to thank him for his efforts in this respect, when all of a sudden she heard a strange noise coming from the porch.

  Ian heard the noise too, and it made him laugh the sweetest laugh. “So I’ve explained to you what kept my busy for three out of the past four days,” he said, standing up, “which brings me to what kept me busy for the last… I went and met with Mrs. Smyth again, in the hopes that she could help me accomplish something else that needed to be done—and luckily she could.”

  Without so much as another word, Ian walked over to the door. He stepped outside onto the porch, bent over, and picked up a small, lidded crate. He carried the crate over to Emma’s chair, then set it down at her feet and knelt beside it.

  “Mrs. Smyth is an expert on pets, as you know,” he said, lifting the lid. “And she helped me find this little guy for you.”

  Emma looked down into the crate, and she couldn’t help but smile at what she saw. There in the box was a tiny, furry brown puppy!

  “Oh, Ian!” Emma cried out in joy. “He’s beautiful!”

  “I know that there can be no replacement for Charlie,” Ian said, reaching down into the crate to extract the petite pup. “But I also know you still have a lot of love left to give.” He handed the little thing over to Emma, and her heart melted as its tongue lapped at her cheek.

  “I do have a lot of love left to give,” Emma replied, ruffling her hands through the pup’s fur. “And rest assured, I’ll give it wisely.”

  Ian blushed at Emma’s remark, then leaned closer to pet the pup as well. “So what do you think you’ll name this one?” he asked.

  “He looks a lot like Charlie,” Emma answered, grinning ear to ear. “Only he’s brown. So I think the name ‘Tumbleweed’ might work.”

  Ian laughed a spirited laugh. “Tumbleweed it is,” he said as his hand grazed Emma’s. Their eyes met, and neither one of them could deny the love they felt for each other anymore.

  Approximately two weeks later, after they’d gotten to know each other better and Emma had some time to heal, Emma Harris and Ian Sanders began properly courting—and three months later, they were wed in the church in Miles City. Their wedding was a joyous event, and soon thereafter Emma learned what a divinely wonderful thing marriage was and found a happiness and closeness she’d previously feared she would never find.

  THE END

  9. THE PREGNANT ARIZONA Bride

  Copyright © Hope Sinclair 2018

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  For queries, comments or feedback please use the following contact details:

  hopesinclair.cleanandwholesomeromance.com

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  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ONE

  “I love you, Sylvia,” Travis said softly. “And I can’t wait until we can get away from all this madness and properly start our life together.”

  Sylvia Wallace’s heart skipped a beat, and she fell short of breath—not just because she was moved by her beau’s words. She was also very, very nervous.

  “I can’t wait either,” she replied, gazing into Travis’s eyes. She felt conflicting, powerful emotions that made her smile and wince at the same time.

  You see, her relationship with Travis Hawthorne was a rather complicated one. By all measures, it was forbidden and scandalous. It had already caused the two of them a good deal of strife, and it stood to cause them even more.

  First and foremost, Sylvia and Travis were not married. Yet, in many ways, including one we shan’t mention, they sometimes acted as though they were. What’s more, the couple wasn’t officially, publicly courting. They maintained their relationship behind closed doors, so to speak, and kept each other’s company without chaperones or supervision of any kind. Their parents didn’t even know they were together, and, rest assured, they wouldn’t have allowed it if they did.

  David Wallace, Sylvia’s father, was a prominent New York businessman with several prosperous countrywide investments, most notably in real estate, ranching, and railroad development. He was a powerful force in the aforesaid industries and had more control, and money, than nearly all of his competitors. There was only one other man who held as much as him in one of those industries. Benjamin Hawthorne—Travis’s father—was neck and neck with him in railroad development.

  Needless to say, neither of these tycoons would’ve wanted their children to get together. But alas, that’s just what happened. Sylvia and Travis crossed paths as they were accompanying their fathers on business, and they took a fancy to each other. They knew their fathers would never allow them to court, or even associate with each other, so they decided to see each other behind the scenes and have a “private” relationship.

  That private relationship quickly evolved and, in the process, broke so many rules. Yet it withstood all of these obstacles. But now, Sylvia feared they might have hit a snag they couldn’t pass, and she worried that their relationship itself might break.

  “I mean that,” Sylvia added, trying to steady her thoughts and feelings. “I can’t wait.”

  Travis cocked his head to the side and looked at her curiously.

  “We need to get away from all of this madness and start our life togeth
er soon,” Sylvia elaborated. “In fact, we need to do it very soon… I’d say within the next two months or so.”

  Though Sylvia and Travis had decided to have a private, secret relationship, they still hoped, and frequently discussed, getting married and legitimizing their love. They talked about where they would go, what they would do, and everything else you can imagine. They talked about it with such eagerness and commitment. But still, when Travis was confronted with the possibility of it imminently happening, he turned white as a ghost and started to panic.

  “Why… why so… why so soon?” he stuttered. “There’s a lot I have to do before… before we’d leave. A lot of business to close out… a lot of arrangements to make. And… and we need money to do this. We need… a lot of money. We need to save up before we leave. We need to—”

  Sylvia was usually well mannered, and it wasn’t like her to interrupt another person when he or she was talking. But she didn’t want to hear the dozens of reasons they shouldn’t leave, when all that mattered was the one reason they should.

  “I’m pregnant,” she interjected.

  “Wh-wh-what?” Travis asked. His jaw dropped open, and he turned even whiter, like the ghost of a ghost. “You’re… you’re pregnant?”

  A tear trickled down Sylvia’s cheek as she nodded. She hadn’t known how Travis would respond to the news, but somehow, she’d imagined he’d respond better than this.

  “Are you sure?” Travis asked.

  Sylvia replied by arching her eyebrow.

  “Oh dear,” Travis said. He bowed his head and shook it slowly. Then he took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re right,” he said a moment later, lifting his head. “We’ve got to leave soon—as soon as possible. On top of all else we’ve got going against us, we can’t let our child be born a bastard.”

  Travis’s tone shifted from soft to firm, and his overall demeanor shifted with it. A moment earlier, they’d been entwined in each other’s arms, but now he was pulling away from her.

  “I think the next eastward train passes through here in a little over a week,” he went on, smoothing down his mussed hair. He seemed more focused now and was no longer stuttering. “That doesn’t give us a lot of time. But it gives me enough time to take care of a few important matters. And while I’m taking care of things on my end, you take care of things on yours. But, by all means, let’s avoid each other as we do so.

  “We’ve been through too much already and are so close to our goal, we best not run the risk of ruining things now and raising any suspicion at the last moment. When we part ways this afternoon, let’s not see each other again until we meet up at the train station to run away.

  “In the meantime, I’ll secure our tickets and get word to you as per when we depart… We’ll go to Boston, like we discussed—all right?”

  Sylvia found herself gazing into Travis’s eyes again, and again, she felt conflicting, powerful emotions. She was terrified about running away and unsure about what the path ahead of them held, but she was also grateful about how Travis seemed to embrace the situation and take charge of things. And, of course, she was excited.

  “All right,” she said as another tear trickled down her cheek.

  Travis leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Until then,” he whispered.

  TWO

  It was a cold, wet October morning. The sun wouldn’t be up for hours. But Sylvia was up. She was on the dimly lit train station platform, watching as the train started to slow on the horizon. There were about a dozen other people on the platform with her—but Travis wasn’t among them.

  He must be running late, Sylvia told herself, just like she’d been telling herself for well over an hour.

  A few days earlier, Travis had sent her a box of chocolates via messenger. He’d signed it from one of her female friends, but included a note from himself on the inside. It told Sylvia that the train to Boston would be leaving at approximately 2 a.m. the coming Monday morning and instructed her to arrive there about an hour early.

  Sylvia had done as Travis instructed and showed up at the station early, expecting him to show up early as well. And when he didn’t show early, she became quite concerned. Her concern continued to mount as time passed—and now that the train was approaching the station, her concern peaked and erupted into fear.

  Oh no, Sylvia fretted. If he doesn’t show in time, we’ll miss this train and be forced to take the next one, which probably doesn’t come through New York for at least another month!

  Sylvia had spent most of the last hour sitting on a bench. But she couldn’t stand to sit any longer. She got up and started pacing back and forth. With each turn she made, she eyed the end of the platform, hoping to see Travis coming her way.

  Several turns later, Sylvia felt strangled by panic. The only thing that came her way was the train. It had now stopped along the platform, and passengers were getting off of it. It was only a matter of time before the attendants called for the new batch of travelers, and the train set off—and that time was running out.

  Sylvia started pacing faster and covered more of the platform. She was moving very quickly, but her heart was moving even faster. She was so afraid that Travis wouldn’t show up in time.

  “All aboard,” one of the attendants shouted. Another yelled the same thing a split-second later, followed by a third a moment after. Sylvia’s racing heart felt like it stopped beating completely.

  “Oh no,” she said aloud. She turned and watched as the new batch of travelers filed up to the doors and boarded the train. She eyed each one of their faces, just to make certain Travis wasn’t one of them.

  When the last of the passengers boarded, one of the attendants called out again and looked up and down the platform. He raised his eyebrows and gestured at Sylvia when he saw her. For a moment, she thought about going to him and begging him to hold the train a bit longer. But that moment passed swiftly, and she shook her head from side to side and turned and walked off in the other direction.

  Sylvia went back to the bench she’d been sitting on earlier and sat down. She took a deep breath, leaned against her suitcase, and watched as the train took to motion.

  We should have been on that train, she lamented. She turned to eye the platform again, looking for Travis.

  Whatever could have kept him? she wondered. I hope he’s all right.

  After considering her options a bit, Sylvia decided to wait on the platform a while longer, on the chance that Travis showed up. He could have forgotten the departure time, she figured, or written it down wrong in his own records.

  Sylvia waited at the train station for a little over an hour before she reassessed matters. She wasn’t going to Boston, as planned, but she had to go somewhere. And the way she saw it, she only had one place to go—back home to her father’s house.

  At this point, it was still nighttime, and her father was likely asleep. But it was getting close to dawn now, so he’d be up soon. She wanted to get home before he got up, so that she could sneak back in without him being the wiser. There was no need for him to know about what she’d tried to do, now was there?

  Sylvia reluctantly collected her things and made her way back to her house. She successfully snuck back in without her father knowing and crawled into bed before he even rose for the day. She tossed and turned for a bit, wondering what had delayed Travis. But eventually, she was able to calm herself through prayer, and she lulled herself to sleep by asking God for His guidance.

  Please help me through this, she beseeched her Heavenly Father. And, please, let Travis be okay.

  Rest assured, dear reader, Travis was okay… though not in any way Sylvia could have imagined.

  THREE

  “Tell me, Father, have you heard anything about that Hawthorne boy recently? What’s his name? Travis?” Sylvia asked coyly.

  Mr. Wallace looked at his daughter suspiciously. “Why do you ask?” he inquired.

  “No reason, really,” Sylvia answered nonchalantly. It had been four days sin
ce she and Travis were supposed to meet at the platform, and she hadn’t heard word from, or about, him. She needed to find something out somehow.

  “I was reading a book of fiction earlier, and the protagonist was the snide, spoiled son of an incapable businessman,” Sylvia went on, taking her ruse further. "It reminded me of the Hawthornes.”

  Mr. Wallace threw his head back with a chuckle. He’d taken his daughter’s bait and softened to her question. “That does sound like the Hawthornes,” he said with another laugh. “And funny you should ask about Travis. Just yesterday, I heard that he finally took his father up on his offer to manage his office in New Jersey. Word has it he left for the position about a week ago.”

  It took every ounce of willpower Sylvia had in her not to collapse. She was weak in the knees, and she felt faint from what her father had just told her. But she couldn’t let him know how unnerved she was.

  “Well, I hope he does well there,” Sylvia said, at a loss for anything else to say. Mr. Wallace gave her a sour look. Travis was, after all, his competitor’s son.

  “I mean, I hope he does well in all his business but for the railroad business,” she amended. Her father seemed pleased with her quick comeback and nodded.

  Sylvia feigned disinterest in the topic and went back to her bedroom. No sooner than she shut the door behind her, she raised her hand to her mouth and started sobbing uncontrollably.

  Something’s not right, she told herself. Father must have been misinformed or is mistaken. Travis wouldn’t run away… to New Jersey… without me. He couldn’t… could he? Would he? Did he?

  Sylvia continued to question things for two more days, which needless to say, were grueling. But they were nothing compared to the toll she felt when she finally got an answer.