ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories) (77 page)

When they finished having dinner and sat around the Christmas tree, Bronson announced that he would be reading a story to everyone. The children gathered around, knowing what a special treat this was, and Ruby was equally eager to participate. Cozied up together, they listened to Bronson read the story of a lost little boy who, through hardships and despite all odds, managed to return to his family and live his own happily ever after.

Suddenly, the children jumped.

“Ruby, Ruby, can we tell him now? Can we? Can we?” they asked her.

Bronson looked at them in astonishment. He had no idea what was going on and what this something was, but obviously it was something of the utmost importance, as his children didn’t usually get this excited about just anything.

Ruby thought about it for a while, enjoying the look of puzzlement on Bronson’s face, but in the end, she decided not to put him through this uncomfortable situation any longer.

“All right then, tell your father.” She smiled at them.

“Dad,” Eveline started. “You have a very special Christmas surprise,” she said.

“It’s actually for all of us, not only for you,” Roy added, as Ruby just looked at them with a heart filled with warmth and love.

“A special present? I wonder what it could be!” Bronson was eager to play their game, and it was one of the sweetest sights Ruby had ever beheld: a father and his two children about to reveal a secret that would change their lives forever.

“Is someone coming for a visit?” He tried to guess, purposefully making his guesses silly. “Are we going somewhere?”

“No!” Both children were rolling on the floor, laughing. “He can’t guess!”

“All right, children, do tell him. I’m sure he’ll be grateful to know,” Ruby said.

“Daddy, we’re having a baby!” The children jumped with joy.

Bronson was stupefied. He had no idea how to react. In an effort to check whether this information was really the truth or not, he simply looked blankly at Ruby.

Ruby blushed and lowered her gaze. That was exactly when he knew.

“We’re having a baby!” He lifted both his children in the air, and they started dancing together to music only they heard. Ruby’s eyes teared up.

“I think it’s time for a big celebration to welcome our new family member. Don’t you think so?” Bronson said. The children agreed.

Once he released them from his loving grasp, he approached Ruby and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“This is the best Christmas present ever,” he whispered in her ear. She fell into his arms and felt as if the warmth emanating from his body would melt her.

For the first time since she moved here, since she embarked on this new adventure, she felt truly happy and truly blessed to be Bronson Vaughn’s wife.

THE END

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Clean Western Mail Order Bride

By: Richard Christian

Chapter One

The sun was blazing hotter and longer than it had on any other day. It was as if it had joined the revolution of bringing Belle Fields to its final end. No matter how hard Josephine Rose Walker pushed herself to the extremities, there always seemed to be another boulder rolling straight in front of her dusty, narrow path. She prayed every day and night—in the vegetable garden and in the chicken coop, on the back of her faithful steed heading into town, in the middle of the tobacco fields underneath her mother’s checkered bonnet, a bonnet she cherished since the day her mother went to be with her Savior.

All Josephine desired was a brief moment to take a breath without the weight and burden of the past few months hanging over her head like the black thunderclouds of her home state of Virginia. Struggle was nothing new to the young tobacco farmer of Louisa County. She had gotten used to the immigrant miners who were expressing their manly desires. It was not accepted or supported for a woman to stand up against it.

The only support the 22-year-old, green-eyed, raven-haired, modestly attractive woman ever received was from her older and faithfully loving brother, Theodore Willis Walker, or T.W. as she so affectionately called him since words could be understood from her rosy, pink lips. Side by side, the Walker siblings learned how to make their farm survive through experience and standing up against the older and conniving generations who set out to take the land for their own greedy gain.

“JoJo!” T.W.’s voice traveled over the dark-green tobacco and through the dry, breezeless air. Slowly, Josephine raised her head and lifted up to her knees, searching for her 6-foot-3-inch brother’s thick, heavy frame. He called after her once more, “JoJo, over here.”

Her eyes landed on his hand waving the familiar black Stetson he had worn since they were both teenagers. “Yo-wee!” Josephine hollered back their signal of acknowledgment and rose to her feet. She turned to her left, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Hannah, I’m heading to the house for a moment. You and Nellie finish up this row, then come and have a sit down on the porch.”

The Negro worker responded to her boss, “Yes Ma’am, Ms. Josephine. We almost finished here, so we be along shortly.”

The Walker siblings were one of the only farms in the county who had turned their farm into a place of employment for any Negro slaves who desired to be treated with respect as an independent worker being paid for their services the same way the white man would be paid. They had even given the option to the female Negro slaves to work in the fields for a higher wage than what they would have received working in the house.

This was one major reason why the Walkers were being zeroed in on by the surrounding farmers and the immigrant miners. They did not care for the fact that the workers they considered property were being valued as practically equals, let alone the opportunities they were being given to advance themselves in the line of society. But most of all, the men detested the fact that a 22-year-old girl was leaving her mark on the tobacco industry. They threw every punch they could her way.

The one thing that T.W and Josephine’s parents instilled in their children before they had passed on was that God had created men and women in His image, and they should love one another as God had loved them. Every Sunday evening, Otto Walker would pull out his faded, worn and torn leather-bound Bible and make sure his son and daughter knew the true definition of love found in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians in the first 13 verses of the 13th chapter. So that is how the siblings vowed to live once they had been left to care for their family farm.

Josephine was strong. There was no doubt about that. But just how much more she could carry on her shoulders became the burden she was thinking about the most. Now, as her brother stood in front of her, she took a deep breath as her eyes landed on the letter he was holding in his calloused hand.

“I’m sorry, JoJo. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but, honestly, I don’t feel we have any other options, especially if we are want to keep this farm and the livelihood it provides for not only ourselves but also for all the other workers who would never be able to live as they do here.”

Josephine closed her wet eyes and lowered her head, admitting to herself that everything her brother had said was true and that it was her sacrifice that was necessary to keep her beloved Bella Fields alive and productive.

“He’s a generous man, Jo. He’s giving us more than enough to keep this farm running. We’ve been praying for God to provide for our needs,” T.W.’s voice lowered to a sorrowful whisper as he reached for his sister and pulled her into his chest. “I’m just sorry that it’s taking your leaving to make this all happen. I love you, JoJo. I just can’t imagine living this life without you.”

T.W.’s tears began to soak into his cotton shirt.

Chapter Two

Josephine clung to her carpetbag as she watched her faded trunk be loaded onto the stagecoach. With all that was running through her head, the one most pressing worry covering them all was what exactly this journey would bring. She was thankful that T.W. had left when he did. There was no way she would have been able to say goodbye to him. They both promised to write and send wires if anything happened to either of them. But they both knew that this was the change that their momma had told stories about when she left her own family to become the wife of Otto Liam Walker.

Tucked into the pocket of her green-and-white striped traveling coat was the letter she received from Warren Howard Cooper, a cattle rancher and preacher who promised to provide for Belle Fields in return for her hand in marriage. He wanted them to build a beautiful life serving his local community through trade and sharing the message to any and all who would listen of Jesus Christ.

She didn’t mind being a preacher’s wife. In fact, as the days inched closer to when she would actually meet this gentle man of God and discover who they were to become under the union of their heavenly Father, she was warming up to the idea. But the letter that rested in her other pocket, the letter that was waiting for her at the station, the letter from a man she wished she had never met, slowly clouded those happy memories. How he knew she was leaving, Josephine didn’t know.

“Miss, are you ready to hop on board?” The stagecoach driver held his rough, rugged hand out, snapping her from the distracting and anxious daydream that consumed her worrisome mind.

“Oh, excuse me. Yes, thank you.” She slipped her own gloved hand into his waiting one and readied herself to step up into the coach. She would be accompanied by a young couple on holiday, a bowler-capped banker relocating to a new post and a solicitor heading West to deliver papers of legality that were obviously confidential.

“I can tie up your bag here on the boot so you’ll have more room inside, Miss.” He began reaching for the handles, but Josephine’s quick reflexes pulled it closer to her, forcing out a polite smile.

“Thank you, Sir, but I’ll be fine with it riding here on my lap.”

“Are you sure, Miss? It’s gonna be a long, bumpy ride.”

“I’m sure. Thank you very much.”

The driver nodded in response and turned his focus to someone other than the apprehensive, young traveler. A few more minutes passed until there was a jerk of the coach and the trekkers were on their way. Josephine leaned her head back against the padded carriage wall, doing all she could to not focus on the road she was about to travel—physically, emotionally, mentally and, most of all, spiritually.

Hours upon hours ticked by. There were generic conversations of truly no interest, moments of silence when the rattling and creaking of the coach kept a steady rhythm, laughing, humming, reading, and napping. They stopped periodically in local towns at the stagecoach stations, stretching their legs, filling their bellies and having a descent rest. The teams were switched out before the travelers began their excursion once more.

Hours soon turned into days that faded into weeks. One by one, the passengers reached their destination. But just as they would leave, others would load in their place. At one time, everyone road shoulder to shoulder, like sardines shoved into a can. But, they too would file out once they had arrived at their goal, leaving Josephine to her anxious thoughts and pleading prayers for safety and guidance.

A day before they disembarked, all was going on as it had for the past three weeks. Josephine had just reached the point to where her weary eyes were closing for another bumpy nap.

“Giddyap! Yaw! Yaw! Giddyap!” The stagecoach suddenly picked up speed. Josephine sat straight up and lifted the leather curtain blocking her view from the outside. A passenger grabbed her arm and spoke with great haste.

“What is it? What’s going on out there?” Josephine ignored the panicked woman and focused her eyes on the dust cloud quickly stirring around them. She pulled herself out of the seat and popped her bonnet-covered head out of the window.

“Oh, no! It can’t be”

“What? What did you say?”

“Excuse me, Miss, what do you see out there?”

Josephine answered no one. All she could do was to keep her heart from jumping through her chest. “Oh Lord, please don’t let it be him. Please! Let it be anything, but him.”

“Yaw! Yaw! Yaw!” The driver continued to guide his six-strapped team across the rough terrain, kicking up the dust heavier and thicker with every turn of the wheel. Secretly, Josephine reached down to her boot, slipping her fingers around the handle of her father’s knife that she had taken before leaving the farm.

Suddenly, Josephine was thrust back into her seat as the coach pulled to a halt.

“Whoa! Whoa, team! Whoa!”

Quickly, she pulled herself back up to the window and held her breath as she waited for the dust to clear. Her fears charged wildly past her eyes. But just as quickly as she relaxed, she went for her knife again as her eyes speedily scanned the surroundings, looking for any sign of the man she feared. In her mind, the stampede was just a distraction to catch her off guard and make her fears a reality. The coach rattled for a moment before the driver opened the door and stuck his head inside.

“Sorry ’bout that, folks. E’rybody all right in here?”

Simultaneously, the passengers poured out their fears and questions on to the driver’s reply. “All right, all right! Calm down now, folks. Just a typical cattle drive crossing the main road to the next station. Nothin’ to get all worked up over.” He turned to Josephine, who was completely silent and had a face as white as a sheet. “Miss, are you OK?” She just stared out the window. “Miss? Ma’am?”

She finally came to. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I ask if you were OK. You been sittin’ there all quiet and lookin’ like you just seen a ghost.”

“Oh, heavens. I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine. Just trying to catch my breath.”

“Well, OK then. I think we all need to do that. I’m gonna check over the team, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Josephine tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

Thank you, Father, for keeping me safe. Please help me to reach Texas so that I may be able to live my life better, the way you want me to be. Thank you for your faithfulness and for hearing my prayers. Amen

As the stagecoach gave a jerk and began its usual rocking back and forth, Josephine slipped her hand into the pocket of her traveling coat and pulled out the letter she wished she had never read. Opening the envelope, she pulled out its contents and slowly unfolded it. She took a deep breath and read the words staring back up at her.

I know where you’re going, and I will find you to permanently finish what we started.