A Mail Order Bride for the Miner: Sarah & Hank (Love by Mail 2) Read online

  A Mail Order

  Bride

  For the

  Miner

  Love by Mail

  Copyright ©2015 Christina Ward

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2015 by Christina Ward

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All product names, trademarks, registered trademarks, service marks or registered service marks, mentioned throughout any part of the book belong to their respective owners. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover art by BookCoverMasterClass.com Copyright © 2015

  Disclaimer: Any person depicted on the cover is a model and is being used for illustrative purposes only.

  A Mail Order Bride

  for the Miner

  Sarah always prayed she would one day find true love but deep down she felt she didn’t deserve it. After all the physical and emotional scars from a childhood accident she had barely survived made her less than ideal wife material. Or so she thought.

  Yet, with her sisters and her friends all happily married, and some with their second or third child on the way, Sarah finally gives into the pressure and heeds her sister’s suggestion to become a mail order bride. And to Sarah’s surprise the man wants to marry her, even after she mentioned the scars in her letters.

  But as soon as she arrives in the town of Angel Creek and is greeted by the handsome, but strangely silent miner, Sarah starts having second thoughts. Where is the eloquent, funny and charming man from the letters? Was it all in her mind, did she read too much between the words? Or is her presence that displeasing?

  What Sarah doesn’t know is that her intended has a secret (or two) of his own and that he two had needed some help in finding love. Can these two broken souls find comfort in each other’s arms? Will they find strength to overcome their weaknesses?

  Follow the sweet journey of Sarah and Hank, as they find love neither thought would ever deserve and as they find strength in God to overcome their daily struggles. Along the way you’ll meet some familiar faces from Angel Creek, as well as some new ones, in this clean Western romance.

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  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Thank You!

  Contact

  Further Reading

  Chapter 1

  Spring Fort, Louisiana, November 1871

  “Dunno what I woulda done without ya, Sarah.” Bart propped himself up in bed on his elbows.

  Sarah blushed suddenly very aware of the fact that the doctor was tending to another patient down the long row of beds. “You’re not well yet.”

  She fluffed the pillow behind his head and glared at him for good measure.

  Bart chuckled and a lock of his brown curls fell over his eyes. He looked so young and charming. She glanced at her latest patient feeling a slight flutter growing in her chest. But it quickly dissipated when a loud gasp erupted behind her. Sarah turned her gaze away and stepped aside to see who was coming.

  “Bart! I was so worried!” A blonde young woman rushed past Sarah and flung herself at Bart, who caught her around the waist.

  “I’m fine, Elizabeth.” Bart kissed the woman’s forehead and nodded to Sarah. “Sarah here patched me up quite well.”

  Elizabeth turned her blue eyes already wet from tears to Sarah. “Thank you so much!”

  Sarah smiled, her modesty making her blush this time. “No problem. He can go home later, but he’ll need to take it easy on his left leg.”

  Elizabeth sighed, turned back to Bart. “I told you not to join the sheriff’s posse after those brigands!”

  Bart caressed her cheek. “Part of the job, sweetheart.”

  Sarah cleared her throat and left the two to their own affairs. She looked around the physician’s stuffy room, which held several cots and tables for the sheriff’s men. Their run-in with the outlaws didn’t quite go as anticipated. As she turned around she came face to face with the small mirror beside the door.

  Her heart jumped a beat. Would she ever get used to that sight?

  Patches of skin pulled at each other like tree roots creeping over one side of her face. So hideous, she thought, and sighed. How could I imagine even for a moment… She turned away.

  Someone touched her arm. “Sarah, there you are.” Martha’s voice rang in her ears, followed by a giggle. “What is it?” Sarah faced her friend.

  Martha leaned closer and her voice lowered to a whisper. “You see that man near the window, the one with a bandage around his head and an eye patch?”

  “One of the lawmen from next town? Why? Is he bothering you?” Sarah squinted in the direction her friend nodded to just a moment ago.

  Martha giggled again.

  Was she having seizures? The way her shoulders were shaking was not natural.

  “Land sakes no!” Martha giggled yet again and gave a tiny wave to the man, who winked back at her. “I think he really likes me.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. She knew what that meant. Martha was going to get married in a couple of months. It also meant that Sarah would no longer have any close unmarried female friends.

  “Oh, by the way, your sister’s here.”

  “Which one?” Please don’t let it be Olive. Please don’t…

  “The one who just had a baby last year? Olive, I think. She’s outside.”

  Sarah stifled a sigh. Instead, she smiled at her friend and nodded. “Thanks, Martha.”

  Sarah went outside the house and found her petite, older sister making cooing noises at the small bundle in her arms. Something painful reared its head inside Sarah’s chest, but she clamped it down. It wasn’t that Sarah didn’t want to see her sister, but every time she did, she remembered what she wanted and didn’t have.

  “Olive!”

  The brunette turned around and flashed Sarah a huge smile. “Sarah! Ooh, look, Li’l Jimmy, look, it’s Aunty Sarah!”

  Li’l Jimmy grabbed his aunt’s index finger and closed his eyes while making a cute sound.

  “How’ve you been?” Sarah asked.

  “I should be askin’ you that,” Olive said, chocolate-colored eyes that mirrored Sarah’s widened. “Jim and I wanted to check up on you. Ma’s so worried! When she heard about those bandits…”

  “The sheriff’s posse took care of them, so you can tell her to calm down.”

  Olive sighed, she did not like being dismissed. “And you? How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I wasn’t even in the fight.”

  “I meant, generally.” Olive looked over her shoulder. Martha’s laugh, followed by a man’s voice was clearly audible e
ven outside. “Are you – happy?”

  Sarah was the one to sigh this time. “Quit beatin’ the devil ‘round the stump, Olive.”

  Olive smirked. “All right then. Any man in your life?”

  Sarah pursed her lips, much to her older sister’s amusement. “In time.”

  “When’s that?”

  “When the Lord deems it right.”

  Li’l Jimmy gurgled, and Olive hushed and rocked him. “By the way, we’ll be stayin’ with you and Ma, and the others for a coupla days.”

  “Why? Did something bad happen?”

  “Pshaw! You always think something bad’s happened! It’s good news!” She lowered her voice. “I think I’m pregnant again.”

  Olive smiled and Sarah couldn’t help smiling herself, but deep down she didn’t feel it. Her sister was going to have two kids now, and yet at twenty-three, Sarah still didn’t even have a suitor.

  “That’s great.” She quickly responded to cover her grim thoughts.

  “You know what else is good news?” Olive added, looking from right to left. “Christina’s married!”

  “Christina Lewis?”

  Olive nodded.

  “I thought you said no one in your town wanted to court her. She was too busy manning their horses.”

  “Yeah, but…” Olive paused as there was some big secret to tell. “It isn’t someone from town. She found a husband through the papers!”

  “Papers?”

  “You know, matrimonial ads. The Love in the West Agency.”

  The words sounded foreign to Sarah, but Olive looked at her as if they should have been familiar.

  “They’re a mail order bride agency.”

  It all clicked into place and Sarah nodded slowly. Olive nudged her. “Great, isn’t it? We’ll be browsing the papers every day. We’ll all help.”

  “What?” Sarah blurted and opened her eyes wider. “You can’t be serious?”

  Olive sighed. “I mean, it’s time for you to find a husband. And if he won’t come to you, then you’ll have to go to him.”

  * * *

  Angel Creek, Montana Territory, November 1871

  Hank Welton knew they had been crying. Half dried tears shined on their faces. Their eyes red and puffy avoided looking at each other. He was glad he let his grief pour out the night before, after all a man shouldn’t be crying.

  “She was such a sweet old bird,” Mrs. Dubson said, dabbing her cheeks with a white cloth. "And now she’ll never see you with a wife and family of your own!"

  Hank clenched his fists. Ma had bugged him a lot about it, especially in the last few days he had been here with her.

  “That’s all she ever wanted.” Mrs. Dubson continued.

  “She had missed you so much.” Pastor Shepard placed a hand on Hank’s arm. “Have you sent word to your brothers and sisters?”

  Hank nodded. All those years wasted in California, chasing gold. “I – I –” He closed his eyes and tried again. “I’ll get the… the coffin from Mr. Beckett.”

  Pastor Shepard furrowed his brows, then shook his head. "Oh, I forgot. It’s - it’s actually Cole running the shop now. His father died over a year ago."

  "Oh." Hank ran a hand down his face.

  The pastor patted his shoulder. "We’ll stay with your Ma till you get back."

  The other women, Ma’s old friends gathered around her body and cried again.

  Hank kicked up dust when he strode into town. His eyes, accustomed to so many days of darkness, had missed the signs of town life. Helena Durie still ran the mercantile. The Jenkinses still ran the bakery. But now, it was Cole Beckett, Hank’s old friend, at the undertaker’s workshop.

  Looking through the window he spotted Cole hunched over a long piece of wood. Hank knocked on the door and strode in. Cole turned around and welcomed him with a huge grin.

  “Hank!”

  “Cole!” He mustered a small smile and they patted each other on the back.

  “What brings you here?”

  “Ma…” Hank didn’t have to finish.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Cole’s jolly mood vanished in an instant. “I heard you were in town and kept meaning to swing by your place, but thing are so busy here as you can see.”

  “No problem. I – I heard about your - old man. I’m - sorry.”

  Cole gave him a small smile. “Old age, but he died happy. Wait, stay right here. I’ll be right back."

  Hank sat on a small stool and looked around the workshop. Where Harold Beckett had placed caskets and embalming tools on display, Cole had filled the space with furniture and wooden toys.

  “Oh, hello.”

  Hank swiveled to see a young woman with dark curly hair, carrying a small tin plate of cookies. She was quite plump. Hank narrowed his eyes. Her face was lithe enough, but her stomach…

  “I’m Mercy – Mercy Beckett.” She offered him the cookies.

  Hank stood up. “Beckett?”

  “Ah, I see you’ve met my wife Hank.” Cole appeared behind a huge cabinet. “Try some of her cookies. They’re heavenly. I’ll be back with you in a jiffy.”

  Hank’s face reddened. “Didn’t know Cole was - was married.” Hank smiled and took a cookie. “I’m – I’m Hank Welton.”

  “Welton… Oh, I just heard about your mother – I’m so sorry.”

  Hank nodded, news travels fast in this town. “How’d you and Cole meet?”

  Mercy blushed and took a seat on a bench. “I was a mail order bride.”

  “Mail order…I’ve heard of that…”

  Mercy nodded. “I answered Cole’s ad in the papers, we exchanged a few letters and then he invited me to town.”

  “Best decision of my life,” Cole hollered.

  Hank smiled. It was a pleasure to see his friend so elated. He’d heard some of the miners talk about such things, about men finding wives through the papers, but he never thought about it himself. Him writing and add? That would be the day… And the women, he’d seen one arrive at his last mining post: young, with anxiety and excitement in her eyes as she disembarked the stage coach, trembling from either the wind or fear, or maybe both.

  No, such fragile creatures weren’t for him. Yet the more he looked at Mercy, her rosy cheeks, glowing complexion and round belly, the more he questioned himself. If Cole found such a lovely bride, maybe…

  “…back in Missouri,” Mercy said. She must have not noticed he drifted off lost in his thoughts. “I used to write letters for mail order brides before I met Cole.”

  “And now she runs an inn and a mail order bride agency.” Cole stepped up to her side beaming with pride. He bent down to kiss Mercy on the head.

  Hank averted his gaze at the display of affection. "Ma wanted me to - to get married." He sighed.

  Mercy immediately perked up and turned to Cole and then Hank. “Oh, my agency can help you find the perfect bride!”

  Hank stepped back. “I – I was just –“

  Cole grinned.

  “Sounds good, honey. Hank’s pretty shy, so you’ll need to find him someone extra special." He winked at Hank, who glowered. "But for now, let’s look at the caskets.” He turned to the older man. “Follow me.”

  Hank tipped his head to Mercy and followed Cole to the back. Several caskets of different size and style leaned against the wall. Hank thought of the tears. Maybe this whole marriage business was a good way to occupy his mind?

  He glanced at Cole. Why did he need an ad? Cole was a handsome man, and coming from the family of undertakers he likely would have had his pick of the ladies in town. In fact, Cole would probably had gotten married before Hank left for California, if not for his too-jolly attitude when dealing with the dead. People used to whisper things about Cole, but Hank never listened. After all they whispered about him too.

  Hank thought back to many a night they spent at the saloon, in fear of growing old and alone. But then Cole had gotten married. How long has it been since he visited his old friend?

  “
So, what do you think?” Cole asked, tapping a casket in dark mahogany.

  Hank scratched his head. “H-how much?”

  “You pullin’ my donkey’s tail?” Cole snorted. And in a more somber tone, “It’s for free.” Hank opened his mouth, but Cole shook his head. “Don’t even think ‘bout it.”

  Hank gripped his friend’s arm. “Thanks.”

  Cole nodded and slapped him on the arm. “C’mon, why don’t you come by our place? We’ve got plenty of stew to go round. A lot has changed in town since you left. Changed for the better. And I’m sure some company will do you good.”

  Cole placed a shoulder around Mercy, who beamed at Hank. "We can get started on your ad later."

  Hank coughed into his fist. This was one eager lady Cole had married. "I’m don’t – don’t know."

  Cole chuckled. "Your Ma had been harpin’ on about you getting’ married, Hank."

  "Her dying wish," Hank muttered to himself.

  "C’mon," Cole began, "we’ll help you out, and in a few weeks’ time, you’ll have found your bride."

  Chapter 2

  December 1871

  Hank’s heart thumped so hard, he worried it would jump out of his chest and into his hands. Talk about offering his heart to the bride.

  "What if – what if she – she doesn’t come –?”

  "She will," Claire said, eyes twinkling. The pastor’s sister seemed more excited than him.

  "Oh, I think that’s her now!" Mercy turned to Claire. "This reminds me of the time I first met Cole. He was late picking me up."

  Hank chuckled.

  Claire shook Hank’s arm. "That’s her, right?"

  Hank took a deep breath. Miss Flynn had sent a picture of her taken two years ago, but there was no doubt it was her. It seemed little had changed over the two years.

  "What’s that on her face? Is she injured?" Claire murmured.

  Hank felt his cheeks burn. He didn’t mention it, but he thought Mercy might have told her friend. After all she had read the letters, she had seen the photograph. But he had no time to say anything.