Mail Order Bride – Charlotte's Summer: Clean Sweet Western Cowboy Romance (Seasons Mail Order Brides Book 1) (9 page)

T
homas stood
as proud as any man could be. He’d spent hours and hours fixing things just the way he thought Charlotte might like. He glanced around, first at the expectant faces of the townsfolk seated before him, and then over to Earl, who had stepped in as his best man.

The two shared a moment, neither one of them saying a single word, but they both spoke volumes with the emotions that bled out of them. Thomas knew times like this were tough on Earl without Grace by his side, but she would be shining her light down on her two boys today, that much Thomas was certain of. It’s just the kind of woman she was.

Thomas looked up when the preacher cleared his throat.

Charlotte Bates had stepped out from behind the trellis and was gazing in sheer wonder at the meadow that surrounded her. She was smiling like he’d never seen her smile before and Thomas loved the idea that he was able to make her so happy. If pink was her favorite color, then pink was what she was going to get.

As she slowly walked down the aisle, serenaded by the soothing strings of a violin, he got that funny feeling in his chest again. Never had a creature of such beauty graced his presence.

Her dress was absolutely divine. Ivory lace hugged her hour-glass figure and the skirt was full and pleated. What looked to Thomas like the finest of pearls decorated a long train that stretched out behind her and a veil flowed from the back of Charlotte’s head, her hair cascading over her shoulders in curls so soft they looked like satin. Each bauble of her veil caught the sunlight and created a halo around her, muted yet luminous at the same time, and every single one of the guests could feel it deep down inside their bones. What they were witnessing today was nothing short of a miracle.

Love was in the air. Pure and simple.

Junior took his responsibilities very seriously and never once missed a step. His small hand stayed wrapped tight around Charlotte’s elbow until they reached the very end of the aisle, where he curtsied once and then took his rightful place, seated right beside Mabel, the Calhouns, Gabe, Doc Lawson’s brood and the odd cowhand. Earl laughed. Never had he been more proud of his boy and his eyes watered a little with the emotion of it all.

Eyes as blue as the sea finally found Thomas standing not two feet in front of her and his steady gaze was all Charlotte needed to settle her nerves. Suddenly the loneliness she’d felt as a child was completely forgotten, and the idea that she would never be alone again had her dancing around inside her own body. Thomas would be right by her side for the rest of her days and that’s exactly how she wanted it.

By the time they were holding hands, swapping rings and declaring their vows to each other, the preacher’s words were all jumbled inside Charlotte’s head. It wasn’t until she heard him declare,
I now pronounce you husband and wife
, that all her thoughts turned to the man standing before her.

The man she’d just married.

She giggled and laughed all at once, happier than she’d ever dreamed possible. On the preacher’s command, Thomas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Charlotte’s tiny waist, inching her closer. He closed his eyes, leaned his head off to one side and then brushed his lips ever so gently across his bride’s mouth.

Charlotte’s knees went weak.

Thomas was so close to her, so warm and firm against her body, and she didn’t expect to enjoy the kiss quite so much.

She often wondered why people closed their eyes when they felt something so deeply – like singing a hymn in Church or praying to God, or smelling a rose for the first time – but now she knew why. The answer was right there in front of her and all around her from what she could tell. It was because all the wonderful things in life are worth savoring. And sometimes the only way to do that is to block out the rest of the world.

So that’s just what she did.

She closed her eyes and she kissed Thomas back with all the love, and all the passion, and all the devotion she felt inside her.

The small reception went smoothly, though it passed by in a blur. The drinks flowed and the music rang out into the evening and even the Calhouns got up for a dance or two. Charlotte knew she would never remember everyone’s name; there were just so many new faces. So she decided that although she’d done her level best, she would just nod politely and thank each and every one of them as they left the ranch for home.

They were an eccentric mix, but Charlotte knew them all to be good and honest folk and could see herself settling in amongst them just fine.

In fact one of them had even left a pot of soup sitting on the side bench insisting
no bride should have to fix supper on her own wedding day
and for that Charlotte was more than thankful. Who it was exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she would work it all out in good time.

Food was the last thing on her mind though, she wasn’t hungry in the slightest and she doubted Thomas was either.

She’d just watched him devour four large baked potatoes and not spill a single speck on his white, button-up shirt. She guessed her husband was just talented like that.

It had been a long day and although Charlotte was glad all the guests were having a wonderful time, she was more eager to slip out of her wedding dress and take Thomas up on that offer of a long, soaking bath.

T
he meadow was
silent at last, the final
congratulations
were uttered well after it was dark and Thomas was now enjoying the solitude of his farm once more. The stars were twinkling in the night sky above him and the silvery moon sat full and round, just like it had done so many weeks before.

Thomas petted Rosy’s head a few times, telling her all about the day he’d had and enquiring after the piglets, all the while conscious of the fact that Charlotte was bathing and relaxing in the tub just on the other side of the wall.

The panic set in again. Though this time it was mixed with something different. A peculiar thrill raced through his veins and chased most of the panic away, to the point that he was more looking forward to the evening now.

“I might head on inside, Rosy. I think I’ll be alright. You get yourself some rest.”

Once Charlotte was dried off and changed into her nightgown, she heard Thomas rustling about in the kitchen. All the guests had long gone and the cleaning up was to a point where both the newlyweds were totally exhausted and would deal with the rest of it tomorrow. His steps were heavy and deliberate as he walked down the hallway, like he was warning her of his approach.

When he tapped his knuckles on the bedroom door, Charlotte sunk beneath the covers and bit down on her bottom lip so hard she was worried she might draw blood.

“Come … come in, Thomas,” she stuttered, anxiously. Her stomach flipped at the thought of what was about to happen. As much as she’d found great pleasure in the way Thomas had kissed her at the ceremony, she was suddenly full-up with butterflies racing around inside her. Thomas would want to do more than just kiss her now. It was to be expected. She was his wife, after all.

He edged into the room, glad for the darkness. He didn’t need her seeing the uncertainty on his face or the worry in his eyes as he went about the act. He wanted to make it enjoyable for Charlotte. He wanted her to find contentment in his touch and joy in his longing. Just hours before he had made the most solemn of vows,
to cherish her and honor her all the days of his life
. And that’s exactly what he intended to do.

“You are so beautiful,” Thomas whispered the words as he lifted back the sheet and slipped into bed beside her. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you all day.”

Charlotte relaxed some when he held her close and ran his fingers through her long hair. “You didn’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Ackerman.”

Thomas laughed, in that wonderful way Charlotte had witnessed only a few times since she’d met him. When he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, so that his lips kissed each and every one of her fingers, Charlotte relaxed a little more and turned in toward him. The way his breath tickled her skin made her body hum. Thomas moved his mouth to Charlotte’s wrist and he pressed his lips against her pulse, kissing her twice in that same spot. Her heart was beating so fast now that it made her feel giddy.

Before she knew it he was kissing the inside of her elbow, taking his time over that sensitive spot that always tickled her, and then he worked his way up to her shoulder. “I’ll never hurt you. Not tonight, not ever. Tell me if you need me to stop and I will, I promise. We can take this as slow as you want.”

“Okay,” she whimpered. But an exquisite feeling came over her and she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth, not even if she’d wanted to. “I love you, Thomas.”

Thomas laid there gazing into Charlotte’s eyes. She had become everything to him. “I love you too, Charlotte.”

Those were the last words spoken that night. Thomas made love to his wife then in complete and utter silence, dreaming of the future, forgetting the past and savoring every moment of the connection they felt together.

Their eyes may have been closed, but their hearts were surely wide open.

In the tiny north-western town of Conrad, where men were considered to be real men — determined, sturdy and capable of wrangling cattle the size of boulders – prestige was measured by hours of back-breaking work rather than by gain or good fortune.

On that basis, Earl Mason Junior might have seemed to some to be a little
lacking,
for want of a better word. But while he may have slight in stature, having not long celebrated his eighth birthday, it wasn’t for lack of trying – and he sat up as tall and proud in that diner chair as any other man in town.

His brown eyes sparkled with delight as he watched Louise Calhoun’s fingers swirl and twist and dance across a thin sheet of paper. Louise glanced up briefly at Junior and offered a knowing smile, before she lowered her eyes back to the table and finished off the very last paragraph.

The two of them had been hard at work for almost an hour and their letter was coming together nicely. With every gentle flick of her wrist, Junior’s dreams of bringing a bride all the way over from Seattle were becoming more of a reality.

But not just any old bride. One of those mail order brides. And he had his heart set on one in particular.

A small two-seater table had been placed at the far side of
The Coffee Grande
. Louise had taken it upon herself to rearrange the furniture just so, reserving it for important affairs such as the matter at hand, and Junior couldn’t have been more pleased – parked there as he was, Junior was the envy of every customer who walked on through the door.

Some wondered at the odd pairing sitting back off in the shadows. Others speculated as to the nature of their business. Thankfully though, most folk weren’t bothered either way, and simply finished off their slice of Louise’s famously juicy Huckleberry pie instead.

Junior’s legs twitched with anticipation, his toes barely brushing the floor as he swung them back and forth, and when Louise finally placed the pen back down and clasped her fingers together in front of her, he couldn’t contain his excitement a moment longer. “Read the last part out loud, Mrs Calhoun … just in case you missed somethin’.”

Louise took a deep breath and ran her eyes over the page. Junior had made her promise to write the letter out word for word, exactly as he spoke it, and while most of the lines were grammatically incorrect, and some of the letter was too much like nonsense, she knew the sentiments came from a place deep inside the boy, so Louise reckoned she was in no place to judge.

Junior sat back in the chair and grinned, slowly nodding his head. “I don’t know much about letter writing, Mrs Calhoun, but it seems to me you’ve sure done a fine job of it.”

He sipped his tea with a thoughtful expression, and then swished the sugar around the bottom of his cup until it looked like a whirlpool. Satisfied that he’d said everything that needed saying, he gulped down the last mouthful and jumped to his feet.

“I reckon if this Beth lady don’t fall madly in love with my Pa after everything we just told her, then she might just have rocks in her head where her brains ought to be.”

Louise chuckled and folded the paper neatly in two, thoroughly enjoying the child’s company. “Your heart’s in the right place, I’ll give you that, Junior … but you and I both know what your Pa would do if he ever caught you talking about a young lady that way.”

“I reckon he’d take to clippin’ me a good one right behind the ear.”

Louise straightened her skirts and walked across the diner to Conrad’s make-shift post office. While construction was well and truly under way on the new building opposite, Louise was in no hurry for it to be completed. She sure didn’t mind the passing traffic it brought through her establishment, and on more than one occasion she’d completely sold out of pies long before the day was even done. But a huge affair had been proposed by way of celebration — the Mayor himself announcing it at the town meeting — and now the streets were abuzz in anticipation of Conrad’s first official ‘Picnic Day’.

“I’ll get this letter off in the morning and then we’ll simply wait on a reply.” Louise walked back to the table and gathered up the dirty cups and saucers. “Patience is a virtue, Junior … we can’t rush these things.”

Junior swallowed, hard. “Promise you won’t speak a word of it to Miss Charlotte?”

“Are you sure you want to keep Mrs Ackerman in the dark?” Louise cocked her head to one side, dubiously. “It might serve to benefit our cause if we had her consent, being that she knows Beth better than anyone else here in Conrad. The girl might need some convincing, and Charlotte could be just the trick, don’t you think?”

Junior thought on the idea for a while, but eventually shook his head. “No, I want it to stay a surprise. Surprises make people happy, real happy, and I reckon Miss Charlotte could use that at the moment.” Junior glanced first over his left shoulder and then slowly over his right – making sure Mabel Clay wasn’t within ear shot. “Just between me and you … I don’t think she’s likin’ being married to Mr Ackerman, from what I can gather at least. Not one little bit, in fact!”

Louise gasped, her mouth falling open. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, they … they cries a lot, you see Mrs Calhoun, the both of them. It gets worse once it’s dark time, it’s all you can hear comin’ from across the valley, all that moaning and whimpering and howling like they’re just two of the saddest people ever been born. Pa tells me to come inside when it gets real bad, on account of him not wantin’ me gettin’ upset or nothin’. He’s a good man like that my Pa, always lookin’ out for me, but that don’t mean I don’t hear it all the same.”

Louise blushed and pulled her lip between her teeth to cover her amusement. If she remembered anything of being a newlywed then she figured it highly possible that Charlotte was not quite as miserable as Junior considered. In fact, she was probably about as happy as a puppy with two tails, if the truth be told, but it was not the sort of truth to be explaining to a child.

“I reckon they’ll be just fine … just fine indeed, Junior, don’t you lose sleep over it my little friend. Now take home the rest of these scones for Earl or he might become suspicious. If your Pa’s under the assumption that you came by after school to sample one of my new recipes , then you’d better take something back with you to support your case. I surely don’t like deceiving him, that’s the very last thing I set out to do – but I guess it’s for the best in the long run. A very wise woman once told me that
things aren’t always as they appear
.”

She smiled kindly and patted Junior’s head as she watched his face light up brighter than a fire-fly’s shadow at midnight. That was his Ma’s favorite saying, and it always made him feel like she was right there inside Junior’s heart whenever he heard it, curling her love all the way around him and holding him tight.

“Thanks for everything today, Mrs Calhoun. I sure do appreciate it.” He shoved the scones into his pocket, picked up his scattered school books from the floor and headed toward the door. “And I promise I won’t forget your one and only request in return. Drop by first thing in the morning and there’ll be a fresh pail of milk waiting for ya over by the fence.”

C
hapter 2
.

E
lizabeth Edwards stared longingly
at the empty bed across from her.

The room had once been bright, sunny and full of laughter, but since the day Charlotte Bates – her oldest and dearest friend – fled Saint Anne’s Orphanage for a better life in country Montana as a mail order bride, it had felt nothing short of stark and barren. On a good day Beth could disguise her miserable state of affairs, but today wasn’t one of those days, and her feather pillow was soaked through to the core as a result.

With her afternoon chores scheduled to start at any moment, Beth finally blinked away the last of her tears and wiped her nose along her sleeve – it was hardly becoming of a young lady, of course, but rightly or wrongly, she could care less in that moment for proper manners or social graces or any other sort of etiquette. Her mood was as flat as a pancake, and nothing short of a miracle could shake her out of the slump she’d found herself in over the last few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, Beth swung her legs from the edge of the bed and sat there a while in hope that the sinking feeling might pass.

A sparrow chirping outside the bedroom window suddenly caught her attention. The blue sky set a perfect backdrop to the Maple trees that lined the street just beyond the building, and she marveled as they changed color a little more with every passing day. The leaves, star-like and veined with gold, were now a hundred different shades of red, orange, yellow and purple. A smattering of green could still be seen here and there, but as the seasons skated seamlessly from one to the other, there came a spectacular fall display the likes of which Seattle had never before witnessed.

“You’re late.”

Mr Graynger scowled at Beth as she dragged her feet into the kitchen. Although he’d once considered keeping her on at the orphanage after she turned eighteen, being that she was a hard worker and rarely complained, he’d changed his mind in light of recent events and decided it best to just throw the baby out with the bath water. “The afternoon’s almost done with and you haven’t even been to the post office yet to collect the mail.”

He watched as she tied an apron around her waist and then twisted her long, red hair back into a knot at the base of her neck. Knowing full well that she was deliberately baiting him by taking her merry time about it only served to fuel the fire that raged inside him.

“I’ll be glad to see the back of
you
. You’re nothing but a drain on my resources, and I curse the very day your mother dumped your sorry self on my doorstep. When’s your birthday again?”

“Mr Graynger!” snapped Mistress Belle, glaring across at him. “You know perfectly well it’s not for another month, so until that time the poor girl still has a roof over her head, and whatever her mother’s troubles were, it’s not something she needs reminding of every chance you get. I’d ask that you kindly take your coffee back to your office and leave us in peace.”

“I’ll do as I please!”
Mr Graynger barked so loud that his whole face shook. “Who do you think you are? If you don’t watch your insubordinate mouth I’ll have you turned out right alongside her. Good luck finding another job that pays as well as this one does.”

Mistress Belle swallowed the sarcastic scoff that almost burst from her throat. Mr Graynger was as tight as a wet boot and all who met him knew it to be true. He’d squeeze the life out of a penny if he thought he’d get change from the blessed thing. But she knew jobs were scarce, and although the wage she earned was well below standard, the chances of finding employment at her age — and employment that included accommodation too — would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. So she bit her tongue instead and went back to stirring a pot of soup on the stove.

Mr Graynger turned his attention back to Beth and ground his grubby teeth together. “If I catch you sulking again over that conniving little hussy you once called a best friend, then I’ll see fit that you leave this place immediately … and with nothing more than when you arrived.”

Beth sighed. From what little she knew of her life before Saint Anne’s — and it wasn’t much – her only real clues, coming from the now frayed note her mother had tied to the wicker basket – was that she’d been a sickly baby and impossible for her to cope with. Mistress Belle had found her early one morning, barely weaned, grappling with colic and covered in bed-bugs.

Beth’s heart sank with the thought.

She never could understand how a mother could dispose of their own flesh and blood so easily. Questions raced around in her head, the pain of which gnawed away at her insides until she felt like she might just burst into tears once again.
Did her mother ever love her? Did she miss her? Had she even thought of her since? Of what she might look like, or her disposition?

Mistress Belle’s voice jerked Beth back to the present.

“Mr Graynger!” she shrieked. The ferrety little man was treading a very fine line. “So help me God if you speak ill of Charlotte like that again, I’ll have no choice but to leave you high and dry. Let’s see how you fare running this place without me!”

Just then, a younger girl walked into the kitchen to collect a stack of serving trays. Her breath caught when she noticed Mr Graynger’s gaunt face so twisted with anger that she hesitated a moment in the doorway. Refusing to be demoralized in such a blatant fashion in front of his charges, Mr Graynger turned abruptly on his heels and stormed out of the room without another word. He knocked the girl’s shoulder in the process, the force of which sent coffee lapping all over the sides of his cup, spilling it all over the girl’s clean blouse.

“Wonderful,
something else to do,” Mistress Belle grumbled as she snatched the mop from the utility cupboard and ushered the girl toward the laundry room. Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled a long, exaggerated breath. “Beth, be a dear and check on the babies before you head to the post office. Their nap will be over soon and their diapers will need changing. I’m stretched to the limit right now, and expecting a parcel of linen to arrive from the manufacturers. If you hurry, you might just get there before closing.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Beth’s voice was filled with anguish.

“Please don’t let Mr Graynger upset you. We both know what’s got under his skin, and although that doesn’t look like changing anytime soon, things will work out, you’ll see. A little faith can go a long way, and the good Lord is sure to set you in the right direction.”