New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  The advertisement read simply:

  Seeking husband for hire. Will compensate handsomely the man willing to travel west and play the role of husband-to-be for select social engagements. Further details to be furnished upon request.

  Charles had played many roles, but he had never played one quite like this. He was immediately intrigued, and he had responded to the ad. In response, he had received a brief letter penned by a woman named Alice Bell. In no certain terms she had alluded to finding herself in the unique predicament of desperately needing a groom to introduce to her parents. Alice had also named a handsome monetary sum that would be paid, upon successful completion of the job.

  Charles, intrigued by the proposition and the promise of a substantial (and much-needed) paycheck and not too bothered with Miss Bell’s underlying motive behind it, was inclined to agree to the offer anyway, but it seemed that the woman—perhaps in a final plea of desperation—had already assumed that he would accept. She had enclosed all of the necessary tickets and arrangements for his travel to New Mexico, paid in full.

  It was certainly a bold and presumptuous move on the woman’s part, but she had succeeded in making Charles feel obligated to follow through. And so he had gathered up all of his earthly possessions, packed them into a tattered suitcase, abandoned his rented room over the theater, and set off for New Mexico.

  He spent much of the journey contemplating, picturing, imagining what would await him out west. He imagined that dusty landscape, that shantytown… he imagined a lot of things.

  It wasn’t until he had arrived in New Mexico and found himself standing in the heart of Cimarron that he realized there was one detail he hadn’t considered. He hadn’t once stopped to ponder the woman awaiting him, the woman who, for all intents and purposes, would be his bride.

  And so, as he glanced around the town—every bit as dusty, tired, and brown as he had pictured—Charles realized that he had no idea who he was looking for, or how he was meant to recognize her.

  Then, just as suddenly as this dire revelation had struck him, his eyes landed on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Like an act of fate, like the answer to a prayer, there she was. Dressed in a periwinkle gown with a halo of golden ringlets that circled her soft, milk-white face, she looked like an angel, like a vibrant breath of life emerging from the dusty, tired landscape.

  And with a combination of joy and confusion, Charles realized that she was walking straight toward him.

  FOUR

  “Mr. Douglas?” Alice asked.

  “At your service,” the man said. He took her hand gently in his, then offered an overly dramatic bow of greeting that concluded with him kissing her hand.

  Alice drew her hand back, immediately perturbed by the man’s over-friendly demeanor and flamboyant gesture.

  “My name is Alice Bell,” she said stiffly, hoping to make clear that, despite the unconventional nature of their arrangement, she intended to maintain a firm sense of boundaries. This was, after all, a business arrangement.

  “Pleasure to meet you.” The man bowed again. “You may call me Charles.”

  Alice forced a small smile, and all at once she began to doubt whether this plan would work.

  Charles Douglas couldn’t look any more foreign in Cimarron if he tried. His skin was pale, a stark contrast to the rugged men of the west who adopted a russet complexion from laboring in the sun as cowboys, ranch handlers, and soldiers.

  His features were soft and handsome, too handsome. Men in the west wore hardship on their faces in the form of white scars, worry lines, and wrinkles. Charles bore none of these traits. His face was as well preserved as her own. Further, his hands were soft and clean, free of calluses and blisters and knuckles swollen from labor.

  Perhaps the most telling of all, though, was his decorum. Men in the west were rugged and unrefined. There was the occasional gentleman, of course—Alice had thought James to be one exception—but the majority of the men who grew up in the deserts of New Mexico were raised to be tough and hard-working, rather than polite and articulate. If his formal greeting was any indication, Alice feared that Charles’s mannerisms would appear far too refined.

  Altogether, Charles appeared to be the exact opposite of a western man. Aside from the very wealthy—the men who owned land that they had never toiled over, the men whose idea of heavy lifting was counting their collection of gold bars—men like Charles simply didn’t exist in the west.

  And for that reason, Alice feared that Charles—however charming and handsome—would clearly look like a foreigner and, therefore, make himself even more vulnerable to her parent’s scrutiny.

  “In your letter, you mentioned being a professionally trained actor,” Alice remarked hopefully. “I’m hoping you’ll be up to the task at hand.”

  “I am,” Charles confirmed proudly—so he’s a proud man, Alice couldn’t help but observe. Then he added, “And I’m sure I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I certainly hope not,” Alice smiled, though she wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic.

  “I must ask, Alice—”

  “Miss Bell,” Alice corrected him, cringing at his continued over-familiarity. He seemed caught off guard by her reprimand, so she added quickly, “I’d prefer that we remain professional, when not in situations that require us to… well, pretend, I suppose is the best word for it. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Sure,” Charles nodded, though the frown on his face indicated otherwise.

  “Go on, then,” Alice encouraged him. “You were going to ask a question?”

  “Right,” he nodded again. Then, placing emphasis on her corrected title, he began again, “Miss Bell, I must ask why you required my services in the first place?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean?” Alice asked.

  “I mean to say that you’re a beautiful woman,” Charles said. “And if the advertisements I’ve seen in the newspaper alongside yours are to be any indication, there seems to be a known shortage of beautiful women in the west.”

  Alice looked away and blushed. She was feeling a whole host of second thoughts about this arrangement, but perhaps the most confusing emotion on her mind was the strange sense of flustered uncertainty that she felt in Charles’s presence. She was used to holding her own around the rough cowboys and ranch handlers, but Charles was entirely different, and she felt strangely self-conscious addressing him now. And when he mentioned that she was beautiful, she couldn’t help but wonder how she compared to the women in New York City.

  Of course, all of these conflicting thoughts and emotions only served to make her that much more nervous about the confession she was about to make.

  “I suppose there’s no way around it,” Alice said, taking a deep breath. She knew she had to tell Charles the truth, otherwise their arrangement would stand no chance of working. “There’s something I didn’t mention in my letter.”

  “Oh?” Charles asked, intrigued.

  Truthfully, he hadn’t bothered speculating about the nature of Miss Bell’s predicament. When he first received her letter, he was widely indifferent. If he had even bothered to speculate, he might have assumed that Miss Bell was terribly unattractive, and wished to satisfy her parents’ incessant urging to marry by finding a handsome groom.

  Of course Charles hadn’t bothered to speculate. A job was a job, he had decided. It didn’t matter what Miss Bell’s motive was, it mattered only that she intended to pay him well for his services.

  Now, though… now that he found himself walking alongside this beautiful and mysterious woman, he was overwhelmed with curiosity. He wanted to know why she, of all people, was in need of a groom. Surely a woman like Miss Bell wouldn’t find it hard to find a worthy husband. If anything, she’d probably find it taxing to decline the countless offers of marriage and courtship that she must receive.

  “I told you that, due to a predicament, I needed a man whom I could introduce to my parents as my husband-to-be,” Alice said carefu
lly, drawing out her words, buying time…

  Charles nodded again.

  “I didn’t, however, elaborate on the nature of my predicament,” Alice said. “And I hope that now, in revealing the truth, you don’t become unwilling to help me.”

  The truth was, Alice had deliberately not told Charles the nature of her predicament. Doing so, she feared, would make him less likely to travel west. Her hope was that, once he arrived in Cimarron, he would consider his time and efforts too invested to abandon the position, even if he was horrified to learn the truth.

  “I must congratulate you, Miss Bell,” Charles smiled—a crooked, handsome smile that, for some reason, made Alice’s heart swell. “It’s not easy to intrigue an actor, but you… you’ve managed to keep me on the edge of my seat. Now I must know your secret! What is the nature of this predicament you face?”

  Alice stopped walking and turned to face Charles, and then, without an ounce of poise or presentation, she let the truth stumble freely from her lips. “I’m with child.”

  FIVE

  Charles considered himself a master of improvisation, as a good, skilled actor had to be. But in that moment, years of training and stage experience failed him, and he found himself suddenly incapable of mustering any reaction but a genuine one of shock.

  “With child!” he repeated loudly.

  Alice’s eyes flared open in fury, and she hissed to shush him, then glanced around nervously, assuring that none of the townspeople passing by overheard his declaration. Once satisfied that the secret had remained between them, she turned back to Charles and studied his face. “I hope this doesn’t compromise our agreement,” she said flatly, swallowing.

  “Compromise it!” Charles repeated, obviously offended. He was no longer focused on the woman’s beauty, but rather on the role he had naively accepted to play in this drama, the role of the father to an unborn bastard.

  “I have half a mind to demand you double your payment,” he said. “I agreed to be your groom, not to make myself the subject of the scrutiny and prejudice reserved for men who rob a woman of her virtue and leave her pregnant out of wedlock! And in the west, no less! I’ll be lucky if your father didn’t chase me off of his property with a shotgun!”

  “Just because we live in the west, doesn’t mean we’re uncivilized,” Alice scowled darkly. “And besides, it’s not you who will be receiving the brunt of my parents’ judgment, it’s me. My chastity was my own to protect. They’ll be far more upset with me for giving away my virtue, than they will with you for taking it.”

  “That hardly seems fair,” Charles remarked.

  “That’s the world we live in, Mr. Douglas,” Alice said. “I hardly expect it’d be any different in New York City?”

  “I suppose not,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But that doesn’t make it any less unreasonable. Why should you alone face the consequence of something that you could only ever be partially responsible for?”

  “What do you mean, partially responsible?” Alice asked.

  “Miss Bell,” he said carefully. “Please forgive my intrusion, but aside from the Lord sending His only son to be born to a virgin, I can’t recollect a single instance of a child being born without the contribution of an earthly father.”

  Alice said nothing, but blushed.

  “So I must ask, where is the man who contributed to your predicament?” And why has he forced you to resort to such drastic measures, like hiring an actor to fill his absence?”

  “He had more pressing priorities,” Alice said softly.

  “More pressing priorities?” Charles repeated, making little effort to veil his obvious disgust for the man who had abandoned Alice.

  Alice wrinkled her brow thoughtfully, making a great effort to keep her face firm, though a secret part of her couldn’t help but feel strangely elated that Charles shared the same sentiment she herself had felt. Alice, too, felt it terribly unfair that the brunt of judgment would fall solely on her shoulders. After all, she and James had sinned equally… Why shouldn’t the consequence be equal, as well?

  She had never spoken to a man with such progressive thoughts, with such a thoughtful perspective. And even though these were only further signs that he was dramatically out of place in New Mexico, she found these new traits to be entirely endearing, and her opinion of him began to soften.

  “He’s a highly regarded soldier for the Confederacy,” Alice admitted. “Cavalry Commander.”

  At the height of their romance, relaying James’s title would have filled Alice with the glow of admiration and pride. He was a man of great honor, she had thought, and she always felt secretly proud reveling in his accomplishments. Now though, the words no longer inspired awe or admiration when she said them. Instead, they felt hollow and devoid of meaning. A man of true honor wouldn’t have abandoned her, or their unborn child.

  Her heart ached with heaviness at the memory of James. She had tried to avoid speaking of him, thinking of him, dwelling on him… and she didn’t like that she was forced to conjure up the memory of him again, even if it was just to explain the situation to Charles.

  “The Confederacy?” Charles balked, a sneer spreading over his face. “I hadn’t realized that the Confederate Army had infiltrated the Union’s stronghold on the western territories.”

  “They’ve been pressing west of Texas for months,” Alice said. “The Union has been pressing back from California, but the Confederacy has been making great advances. And that’s thanks, in part, to his leadership.”

  “I see,” Charles said, unimpressed. “You consider the efforts of the Confederacy valiant and noble, then?”

  Alice hesitated, then said carefully, “I admire any man who has the humility to seek the wisdom of God, and the courage to fight for what he believes is right.”

  “That wasn’t my question, Miss Bell,” Charles said. “I’m curious whether you align yourself, personally, with the motives and beliefs of the Confederacy?”

  “I trust that the Confederacy is fighting for what they believe is right,” Alice said. “And I trust that the Union is doing the same.”

  “Both sides can’t be right,” Charles challenged her.

  “This is a war, Mr. Douglas,” Alice said. “In the face of such turmoil, I align myself only with the Lord, and I pray that He grants wisdom and truth to all men who fight, so that His will might prevail… Besides,” she added with a heavy sigh, “I don’t see what consequence debating the war has on our present arrangement.”

  “A great deal of consequence, if you expect me to betray my allegiance to the Union by portraying a Confederate soldier,” Charles said stiffly.

  “I thought you were an actor?” Alice asked, and this time it was her turn to challenge Charles.

  “I am,” Charles said, staring intently into Alice’s pretty violet eyes, twinkling behind a curtain of delicate lashes. “But even an actor has his limits.”

  “Mr. Douglas,” Alice said carefully, assessing the man’s stony face and trying to make sense of the rapid pulse of her heart, the combination of fascination and defensiveness that he made her feel. “I don’t care whether you pledge your allegiance to the Union flag, or to the flag of the Confederacy. And I’m certainly not going to grovel. I’ve hired you to play a role, and I’ve offered to compensate you handsomely for your efforts. It’s at your discretion whether you take the job or not, but I trust that, as an actor, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a better form of employment in Cimarron, or all of the western territories for that matter.”

  For a moment they stared at one another. Charles’s deep, dark, smoky eyes full with the churning storm of mystery, and Alice’s violet orbs gleaming fiercely with the volatile combination of pride and desperation.

  Finally, Charles spoke. “I’m many things, Miss Bell,” he said. “But most importantly, I’m a man of my word. I gave you my word when I agreed to travel to New Mexico, and I assure you that I plan to honor my word now.”

  “Good.” Alice nodded resolut
ely. Silently, she agreed that Charles was many things… and among those things, she decided, he was dangerously intriguing. a man unlike any other she had ever encountered. And for that reason, her heart continued to flutter furiously in her chest.

  SIX

  They spent a week at the Brown family home, preparing for the journey back to Alice’s parents’ plantation home in San Antonio, Texas.

  Most of that week was spent priming, practicing, and preparing. The most pressing matter at hand was creating a profile for Charles, since his own background wouldn’t suffice. (Her parents surely wouldn’t look kindly on her announcing her engagement to a New York actor!) But she didn’t feel entirely comfortable asking Charles to inherit James’s persona, either.

  So instead, they took to the task of reinventing Charles Douglas. His name would remain the same, and there was no point fabricating his age—twenty-four years old seemed reasonable. Other circumstances of his background, however, required correction.

  For example, they decided that this fictional version of Charles Douglas had been born in Maryland. Designating this new birthplace was a form of compromise, a way to excuse his sympathies to the Union—Charles was unwilling to abandon his loyalties entirely, but conceded to tone down his affiliations greatly for the sake of her pro-Confederacy parents—and also excuse his northern accent (no matter how great of an actor he considered himself, Charles was incapable of maintaining a false accent for great lengths of time… and for that reason, Alice reasoned that it was best to forego any attempt at masking his accent altogether).

  It was Alice who suggested that the fictional Charles was a doctor who had been paid a great sum to travel out west and fill a vacancy in Cimarron. This detail, she reasoned, would explain why Charles had the refined and well-spoken demeanor of an educated man, and would also explain how he had found himself out west in the first place.