A Mail Order Bride for the Undertaker: Mercy & Cole (Love by Mail 1)
A Mail Order
Bride
For the
Undertaker
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 Undertaker
Mercy feels eternally grateful to the orphanage that gave her a place to live, and raised her into a humble and generous young lady. Between the pastor and his wife who run the establishment and the nuns next door who help out in many ways Mercy had no shortage of great role models.
That's why it breaks her heart that once she is eighteen she'll have to move out. And with no suitors or jobs available in town outside the orphanage how can she keep helping those who gave her everything, those who need her help now more than ever?
When she prays to God for answers a most unusual solution lands in her lap. From there on Mercy's determined to find not only financial help for the orphanage, but love as well, when she travels West as a Mail Order Bride.
Join Mercy on her emotional journey into a new town, where she marries a man she only knew through letters. Her faith will be tested, and new friends will be made. But can she build a strong marriage when her new husband seems to harbor a secret that turned the whole town against him?
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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
Epilogue
Thank You!
Contact
Further Reading
Chapter 1
Edgeport, Missouri, November 1870
“Miss Mercy, Elliot took my paper!”
It took all her willpower not to sigh at the little freckled red-head boy grinning at her from his desk near the door. Mrs. Teresa Grayson, Mercy’s superior, was known for her powerful glares, but Mercy was not a strict sixty-year-old matron. Far from it. She was just an eighteen-year-old orphan trying to keep her home from being closed down. She knew substituting for Mrs. Grayson would be a challenge, but at least this was something Mercy was good at.
“Elliot, please give Ruth back her paper.”
“But I don’t have it.”
Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly. It was a good thing the Scriptures kept her sane. Mercy smiled at Elliot and crouched down in front of him.
“Ruth really needs her paper back so she can do her homework.” Mercy opened her palm. “And it’s not good to take things from someone without their permission, remember?”
Elliot’s face crumpled, but he didn’t cry. Thank God for small blessings. He handed back Ruth’s paper. “I was just playin’.”
Mercy ruffled his hair. “We can play other games. Games where everyone’s happy.”
Elliot pouted and stared down at his feet. “Are you mad, Miss?”
“Of course not.” She kissed his forehead and handed the paper back to Ruth.
“All right, everyone.” Mercy clapped her hands. “That’s the end of today’s lesson. God be with you.”
The children rushed out of the room, but Mercy could still hear the stampede rolling through the hallway. Distracted by the noise she almost missed the two curly-haired girls, one blond and one brunette that stayed behind. They were sisters, if Mercy remembered correctly.
“Yes, Carla, Caroline?”
They looked up at Mercy and smiled at her. Carla produced a small red apple from behind her back. Caroline giggled and hid behind her sister.
“Is this for me, girls?” Mercy leaned down to their level.
They nodded. Oh, bless their little hearts. But Mercy knew she couldn’t take it. Food was scarce at the orphanage. She wondered how they managed to squirrel the apple away in the first place.
Mercy stroked their blonde heads. “Why don’t you keep it for later, hmm? I’m not really hungry right now.”
They looked at each other, their mouths in a frown. They hardly spoke to anyone, except on days where they asked for their parents. The mixed emotions on their little faces forced Mercy to scramble for a better excuse.
“Excuse me, Sister?”
A young woman with blonde curls piled atop her head held together by a red scarf appeared out of nowhere. Her brown petticoat swept street dust into the room.
Mercy turned around, and smiled. “Oh, I’m not a nun.” Well, not yet anyway. She had been considering that option despite being raised a protestant. All because of the nuns next door, that helped run the orphanage with the pastor and his wife.
“Miss?” Carla glanced at the stranger and back to her teacher.
Mercy looked down at the girls and patted Carla on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and find your friends? I think I can hear Daisy and Lyle playing tag from here.”
The sisters laughed and raced outside.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I was told to look for Mercy Elkwood?”
“That’s me.” Mercy tucked a stray black curl behind her ear and approached the woman. “Please, take a seat.”
“No, it’s all right, I won’t stay long.” The woman’s blue eyes roved around the room before settling on Mercy’s face. “I was told you write letters for ads?”
“Ads?”
The woman blushed and added in a quieter tone, “You know … the ones from Matrimonial News.”
“Oh. You’re Elizabeth Springfield, if I remember right.”
The woman reddened even more, as she must have realized she forgot to introduce herself, and pressed the front of her dull maroon dress. Old, but clean. “Yes. You were highly recommended by the Frontier Hearts Agency.”
Mercy nodded. “I write the letters.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder and said, “Unfortunately, I have some more classes today. Could we meet tomorrow?” “Of course.” Elizabeth smiled. “Say, high noon at the bake shop?”
Mercy nodded as Elizabeth handed her an envelope.
“Thank you,” The woman whispered and quickly left.
Mercy folded and tucked the envelope inside her skirt pocket, just as Mrs. Grayson walked into the room. Mercy immediately tensed. The pastor and his wife might have raised her, given her home and now
a place to work, but that didn’t mean she got special treatment. And while the mild-mannered pastor spoiled all the kids, his hot headed wife was known for her discipline and temper.
Teresa raised a thin eyebrow at Mercy. “Who was that?”
“Mrs. Grayson?” Mercy tried to avoid the topic.
The older woman crossed her arms and frowned at Mercy. “I saw a young woman here a minute ago. What did she want?”
But before Mercy could answer, Mrs. Grayson had thrown her head to the ceiling and said, “Lord, have mercy! It was one of those mail order brides, wasn’t it? And what did she want, for Father Hector to give his blessing?” She shook her head. “He is far too kind.”
Mercy stood, unmoving, beside her table, content with letting the older woman answer her own questions. Mail order brides weren’t as scandalous as they were three decades ago, but some still weren’t sold on the idea. Like Mrs. Grayson. Fortunately, her husband, the pastor, was more open-minded.
The woman shook her head and turned around.
“Oh, Mrs. Grayson!” Mercy went up to the nun and handed her some coins. “I have another small donation to the orphanage, by the way.”
The pastor’s wife looked at the money. Her brows furrowed, but she took it anyway with a hurried “God bless.” She contemplated Mercy, from her well-kept dark curls to her faded boots. After a brief pause she relaxed and seemingly remembered something. “One of those Catholic Sisters who donate and volunteer for us, what was her name… Ah, Sister Bernadette, said you plan on becoming a nun?”
Mercy smiled, cheeks tinted pink by the woman’s scrutiny.
“Yes, I want to work at the orphanage without being a burden to you and the pastor. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. I don’t - well, there aren’t really any suitors, there aren’t many paid jobs, and I’m already eighteen years of age…”
Mrs. Grayson sighed and nodded. “…so you can’t stay living here much longer.” For a moment Mercy thought she caught a note of sadness in Mrs. Grayson’s voice. “I’d change the rules Mercy, if we weren’t already bursting at the seams. Don’t know what we’ll do in the winter…”
“God will show us the way Mrs. Grayson. That’s why I thought about the nuns. I could do so much good…”
Mrs. Grayson sighed heavily, even after all those years she still didn’t fully approve of the catholic neighbors. “You’ve got such a pure heart, Mercy. I’ve yet to see anyone as generous as you. Don’t give up on your faith yet. You said it yourself – The Lord will show us the way.”
Mercy blushed. It wasn’t every day that Mrs. Grayson gave out compliments, but when she did, she meant it. The woman left and Mercy took out the envelope. It was time to get her job done.
* * *
Mercy sat bolt upright awoken by the pounding on the bedroom door. She draped herself in a shawl she grabbed of the nightstand and struck a match to light the lantern hanging by her bed. Enid and Ramona, who shared the tiny room with Mercy, mumbled awake.
Mercy opened the door to find a distraught Sister Bernadette on the other side. The woman, only a few years older than Mercy, wrung her hands.
“What happened?” Lord have mercy! Please, let it not be bandits.
“It’s an emergency, Mercy,” the woman whispered. The Sisters were always the first ones to help the orphanage in need, and not just because they live right next door. She looked over Mercy’s shoulder at the other children who were watching from their beds. “Do you still have room in there? I’m afraid we’re going to have to share beds tonight.”
“What happened?” Mercy repeated, opening the door wider. “Outlaws? Where’s the sheriff's posse?”
Sister Bernadette shook her head. “No, no, it’s not the bandits, but there was a shipwreck and we’ve got around a dozen or so poor orphaned children right now who need a new home.”
She turned around and gestured to her right. Three small children, a boy and two girls shuffled towards Mercy. Sister Bernadette smiled at them. “This is Miss Mercy. You’ll be staying with her tonight.”
The little girl cried into her rag doll. “I wanna see my Mama!”
“Oh, no, don’t cry, Amy!” Sister Bernadette threw Mercy a panicked look.
Mercy crouched in front of the girl and smiled. “Amy?”
The girl looked up at Mercy with puffy, red eyes.
“I’m Mercy. It’s very nice to meet you.” The girl only hugged her doll tighter in response. “I know you miss your parents very much, but Sister Bernadette and I will take care of you. You must be tired.”
She looked at the other girl and boy.
“Are you kids tired?”
They nodded. Mercy glanced at Sister Bernadette, who sighed, before smiling back at her. “Thank you, Mercy.”
“C’mon, let’s get inside where it’s warm.” In truth, it wasn’t. The air was usually freezing and the blankets course and thin. But company always drove the cold away. “Enid, Ramona, say hello to our new friends!”
The two sleepyheads in the room took in the sight of their new companions with curious gazes. Mercy went to the small dresser beside her bed and took out extra blankets and pillows. Enid and Ramona shared a bed, and the small boy, Duncan, and the other girl, Ruby, shared the other one.
Mercy turned to Amy, who had been holding on to her skirt. She took the little girl’s hand and tucked them both into bed. The little girl sniffed. “When will I see Mama and Papa?”
Mercy caressed her head. “Soon, but only if you’re a good girl and do what the sisters say, all right?” Amy nodded and buried her face into the crook of Mercy’s neck.
Mercy waited till the children all fell asleep, which wasn’t long. After a few minutes, they all snored lightly into their pillows. Amy had rolled on to her side, still clutching her rag doll.
Mercy quietly sneaked outside the room and clutching her shawl tighter around her shoulders she went down to the small chapel next door. It was empty, save for the Mother Superior, who was surprised to see someone join her.
“Mercy, what are you doing here at this time of night?” She sat in the pew nearest the altar.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Mercy joined the woman. “And I thought I would talk to Him.” She looked up to the crucifix at the center of the dais.
The Mother Superior nodded, sighed and muttered more to herself than Mercy, “Maybe we should consider the mayor’s offer.”
“Sell the orphanage?” Mercy almost raised her voice, but restrained herself at the last minute.
“Things are not going well, my child. The donations have been small and we get more hungry mouths than we have helping hands.” She sighed again. “Pastor Grayson, his wife, and I have to consider the good of the children. My congregation can only supply so much food and money. We’re running out, as it is. Maybe it’s His will that the mayor handle things.”
Mercy gasped. “But, Mother Superior, he’ll just sell the building and the land.”
The older woman sighed. “He’ll take them anyway if we can’t provide for the orphans.” She looked up at the crucifix. “It’s been a very trying past few weeks.”
Mother Superior, usually a calm and soothing presence amid the hectic energy of the orphanage, that night, looked ancient and weak. In Father Hector’s absence, everything had suddenly fallen on her tired shoulders. The looming winter wasn’t helping either. They could barely feed the children they had now, and with the new additions…
Mercy crossed herself. “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
“Matthew chapter seven, verse seven.” Mother Superior smiled. “Many of our children forget the Scriptures as soon as their lessons stop.”
Mercy looked at the Mother Superior. “Let us trust in the Lord. He will always provide, even when we think all hope is lost.”
“Just like Abraham and Isaac,” Mother Superior muttered. She smiled at Mercy and patted her shoulder, before leaving.
Mercy shivered. The pl
ace had never seemed dimmer and colder now that she was left alone. She lifted her skirt and knelt, clasping her hands in front of her. She closed her eyes and whispered, “I know that there’s a reason behind everything You do, but it’s so hard. We have new mouths to feed and yet so little food to offer. Winter is coming and even our hearths are empty. We ask for Your help, Your guidance, and Your grace.”
She opened her eyes and began the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be -”
A strong gust of wind delivered a set of papers to her lap.
Mercy blinked and lifted the papers up. It was today’s newspaper, opened right on the Matrimonial section. She pressed the paper flat before her. “Mail Order Brides.” She looked up at the crucified Christ. “Is this –? Is this the answer?”
Mercy looked back down and read the ads. They weren’t unfamiliar to her, but her eyes had rarely strayed from the ad her client wanted her to answer. She had never given this a thought before. But now that the idea had been planted it sort of made more and more sense to her with every hurried heartbeat. Many of the men she corresponded with had been nice and devoted to the Lord. Many of them claimed - and proved - that they were wealthy, true, and willing to support their brides.
Cole Beckett - A man of God, 25 years of age, serving as a wood-carver and undertaker, is seeking the acquaintance of a young, caring, and supportive lady, with a view to matrimonial engagement.
Mercy gulped. Was this truly a sign from the Lord? Was she meant to be a mail order bride? She folded the paper on her lap. The women who came to her for help with their letters, Diana, Deborah, Ruth, Judith, and Naomi. All of them had went to the West after corresponding (with Mercy’s help, of course) with the men from the ads. And all of them had written Mercy back afterwards, thanking her and telling her how they were faring in their new homes. They were all happy.
“Seek and you will find,” Mercy crossed herself and stood up, but not before saying a soft, “Thank you.”