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

  The young woman stepped off the coach. A blue kerchief wrapped around her head kept her hair in place and long, loose strands covered, or were meant to cover, the left side of her face. She looked straight at them, but made no move.

  Mercy smiled at the newcomer. "Sarah? Sarah Flynn?"

  The woman nodded and smiled, and Hank’s heart melted.

  While Claire and Mercy ran towards her Hank took the time to observe his bride to be and followed in a stately manner.

  She was taller than both Mercy and Claire, and although part of her face was hidden, she stood with unyielding grace, back straight and shoulders wide apart.

  "Howdy, I’m Claire."

  "I’m Mercy. Welcome to Angel Creek, Sarah."

  “Howdy.” Sarah smiled at them and then turned to Hank. "Hello, Mr. Welton."

  Hank opened his mouth, but then gritted his teeth. He’d just embarrass himself. And what if she turned tail and ran when she found out? He settled with a brisk nod at her.

  Sarah visibly paled.

  "Oh, don’t mind him." Claire squeezed Sarah’s hand. "He’s just shy. He’s so happy to see you he’s stumped good."

  Mercy nodded. "Come with us now. You’ll be staying at Pastor Shepard’s house."

  “Yes, my brother is more than happy to have brides stay with us,” Claire added.

  Sarah placed a hand on her chest. "Oh, that’s - that’s good." Color had gone back to her cheeks. "I’ll be glad to meet the preacher."

  Claire peered up at her. "Are you all right?"

  Hank cleared his throat, but Claire raised a brow at him.

  "We better get going. There are so many people we want you to meet!"

  “My bags…”

  Hank immediately swooped in to take them.

  "Th - thank you, Mr. Welton," she stammered.

  "Start calling him Hank." Claire linked her arm with Sarah’s and winked. "Should get used to it, lass."

  And with that all four proceeded to the pastor’s house. As Mercy explained to him, Sarah would stay there a few weeks, as needed, so the two of them could get acquainted. But Hank wasn’t sure if that was ample time for Sarah to get to know him or enough time for her to change her mind and call off the wedding.

  * * *

  "I’ll sand this down tonight and get it ready for the wedding." Cole looked up at Hank and put aside his tools. "What’s wrong?"

  Hank shook his head and fiddled with the blocks of wood on the table. He knew he could count on Cole for intricate woodwork. But coming here left him exposed to questions like this.

  "You’re worried about something." Cole crossed his arms, then he threw his head back and laughed. "Of course you’re worried about something! You’re getting married!"

  Hank glared at him and weighed the pros and cons of hitting the local undertaker with his own tools. "H-how…" He sighed. "How’d you handle it?"

  Cole pocketed his hands and leaned against the cabinet. "I prayed."

  "You? Praying?"

  Cole smirked. "Well, Mercy and I did - together. I had some issues, and my wife and I sorted them out through prayer." He patted Hank on the shoulder. "I was nervous, too, and the rest of the town wasn’t even welcoming to Mercy when she first came here."

  "Undertaker’s bride..."

  Cole nodded. "But she was brave. She didn’t back down."

  "But - Sarah," Hank began, "what if –?"

  "She came here, didn’t she?" Cole dusted his shirt and patted his friend on the arm. "‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not on your own understanding’." He grinned at his friend. "The cabinet will be ready. Go home and rest. You’ve got a long few days ahead."

  “But – but I haven’t told her.” Neither about my condition, nor Mercy’s help, he thought. She must think I’m some inconsiderate mute.

  Cole stopped, and turned back to Hank. “Nothing good comes from keeping secrets.”

  “I – I know.” Hank shook his head.

  "Well, when will you tell her?"

  "In time."

  Hank stepped outside the shop and started walking towards his house. Sarah did most of the talking when they met, and with all the family arriving and a chaperone always present there never was a good time. So he had just smiled and replied with the well trained phrases. Then he remembered the last wedding he’d been at – the long speeches and declarations of love. Hank gulped and changed direction.

  He had to ask the Reverend a favor. He wanted, he needed, his wedding to go as planned.

  Chapter 3

  “So, we heard from Hank that you’re from Louisiana?” Claire handed Sarah a cup of hot chocolate.

  Mercy placed a plate of cake on the table. “I’ve never been there before."

  Sarah took a sip before looking up at Mercy. "Where are you from, Mrs. Beckett?"

  "Oh, call me Mercy. I’m from Missouri."

  Sarah cleared her throat and placed the cup and saucer back on the table. "Um, Mercy, I was wondering…"

  Mercy sliced the cake and placed one on each of their plates. "Hmm?"

  "Well, your agency placed the ad for Hank and you seem to have experience with these things…” Sarah blushed. “I’ve come to like Hank just from his letters, and I’ve grown fond of his quiet presence during our walks near the lake, but…"

  “Yes?” Mercy nodded and placed a small piece of cake in her mouth.

  Sarah took a deep breath. "Do you think he regrets writing back to me?"

  Mercy coughed, thumping her chest. Claire scampered to get her a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

  "I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!" Sarah said. She fanned Mercy’s red face with a towel.

  Mercy gulped down the water. After that, she took deep breaths. Sarah gulped. Mercy touched her arm. "I’m fine."

  The three of them settled back down.

  Claire chuckled and handed Sarah a plate of cakes.

  "What in the world makes you think that?” she asked. “Why would Hank regret writing to you? You two are getting married in a week!"

  Sarah hung her head. "Well, he hasn’t said much since I arrived. After the long letters I thought…" She looked at Mercy. "Is that normal? Was Mr. Beckett - Cole - also like that?"

  Mercy blushed and wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. "Cole’s a jolly person. Too jolly for his own good sometimes. He smiled a lot."

  Sarah’s stomach clenched.

  “Hank does smile sometimes, and he nods a lot, but his silence… I wonder… is he going ahead with the marriage just out of politeness?” Sarah finally blurted out what troubled her most, while touching the burn on her cheek. “He knows I have nothing to go back to.”

  “No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong.” Mercy’s cheeks reddened, but then she paused. “Hank’s just different, ‘tis all. He’s more - somber, from what Cole tells me."

  "You haven’t been friends long then?"

  Mercy’s ears now burned red too. "Erm, no. Actually, I’ve only known him for a few weeks, like a month or so."

  Sarah turned to Claire, who shrugged and went back to her cake. "From what I know, Hank had been away for quite some time, mining across the country. He had already left when my brother and I came to Angel Creek."

  “But,” She quickly went on to add, “I’ve been with you all this time. I’ve walked with you two up and down Main Street, to the lake, and I’ve seen Hank in church. Mercy’s right. He’s quiet, but I’m sure he likes you back. His Ma would be so proud to see you two…”

  Sarah touched her cup, but when her hands shook she decided against bringing it to her lips. "Right, he mentioned in the letters that he had just lost his mother and all his siblings settled elsewhere with their own families."

  Claire nodded. "My brother did the service, he spoke such beautiful words about her. Poor woman’s heart gave out. I heard it was her dying wish for her youngest son to have a family of his own."

  Sarah licked her lips. So, maybe it wasn’t politeness after all, maybe he had sent the ad for his mother�
�s sake? He probably wasn’t that interested in her to begin with. Sarah wanted to smack herself awake. It was an arrangement through the papers. It was never about love! What was she expecting, a besotted gentleman?

  "I know," she began unable to get the grim thoughts out of her mid. "I know that Hank and I had never met before, but… I’d appreciate it if… If he’s not really that interested in me, he could just say so."

  She touched the left side of her face, drawing her hair over it like a curtain. "I wasn’t really expecting him to like someone who looks like me."

  "Oh no." Mercy gasped and grabbed her hand. "Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that about yourself, Sarah. Hank is interested in you! You have no idea how happy he was when he got your letters. That man hardly smiles, but every time mail arrived, he was over the moon with joy."

  “Yes, didn’t you listen to a word I just said?” Claire chimed in.

  "He doesn’t look happy with me here, though." Sarah slumped in the chair still unsatisfied with their answers.

  She had traveled days for him. If he didn’t want her, she wasn’t about to impose...

  "Of course he is," Mercy insisted. "Your scars have nothing to do with his silence. Trust me. It’s just that - Well, Hank has some - concerns…"

  Sarah’s eyes widened. "I’m not on the run from the law! I’m - I’m a decent woman - I wrote about it -"

  "Uhm, that’s not what I meant." Mercy glanced at Claire, who stared back at her, with one brow raised.

  "Then, is it with where I’m from? Or the finances?" Sarah desperately tried to figure it out, if it wasn’t her looks, what could he be objecting to?

  "No, not that." Mercy sighed. "Hank is a good friend of my husband’s and Cole says he’s one of the most hardworking, loyal, and protective people you’ll ever meet. It’s just that - you’ll have to understand that -”

  "Oh, I knew it! Taking the cakes all for yourselves!"

  The women’s heads swiveled to the door of the small parlor. Cole stood in the doorway grinning, with his hands on his hips and mock disapproving look in his eyes.

  Mercy chuckled and got up from her chair.

  "Are the lovely ones enjoying themselves?" Cole asked as his wife pecked him on the cheek.

  Sarah smiled at him and nodded just like the others.

  "We were just talking about the wedding, “Mercy said as she fetched a piece of cake for her husband. “Sarah here, was actually wondering how you were before we got married."

  Cole chuckled. "Me? I was a bundle of nerves. The night before the wedding, I tossed and turned in bed, wondering if Mercy was going to bolt out of Angel Creek that very night!"

  Mercy blushed. "You never told me that!"

  "It was my little secret." He winked at her and stuffed his face with cake before Mercy could get him a fork.

  Mercy rolled her eyes, sat beside Sarah and took her hand while leaning closer.

  "Before our wedding, I was nervous, too. I was afraid Cole might have misgivings about marrying me - someone from an orphanage, with no family or fortune to her name."

  "Oh." Sarah suddenly felt guilty about her own worries. She couldn’t imagine what Mercy must’ve felt, without a family to fall back on should the marriage not work.

  "And now we’ve got a beautiful girl named Amy," Mercy continued. "She’s from the same orphanage I was brought up in. And we’re just waiting for the next member of the family."

  She touched her stomach. "It’s still a few months, but we’re so excited. Amy can’t wait to meet her new brother or sister."

  "So am I," Claire piped up. "I’m godmother to their brood."

  Sarah smiled. "That’s so lovely."

  "Well ladies," Cole began, placing the now empty plate on the table. "I better go and take care of business."

  "Just don’t over-work yourself," Mercy said, placing a hand on her hip.

  Cole laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "Of course. I’ll be back before dinner."

  Sarah hoped they could get back to the topic of Hank, but the moment was lost. When Cole was out the door, Claire pounced. "Now, let’s talk about your wedding dress."

  * * *

  All week, her stomach had been in knots more tangled than a cowboy’s ropes, but Sarah clenched her fists. Only a yellow belly would run from a wedding now. After all the fussing the women did over her, she couldn’t very well disappoint them now, could she?

  Sarah’s sisters and Hank’s siblings had gotten along well when the two families arrived for the celebrations. His sisters doted over her, his brothers were quite charming, and Sarah’s mother wept for joy nearly constantly as she showered Sarah with marital advice.

  All the preparations led to that very moment. She just had to wait for the cue to enter the church. Who was it playing the piano? Ah, yes, Bridgette Haynes. The young girl had been taking some piano lessons and volunteered her service for the wedding.

  Sarah took a deep breath when the music started and entered through the door that someone opened for her. She caught Betsy’s eye. Hank’s younger sister smiled at her, and immediately Sarah felt better. Betsy was the giddy one, always smiling and chatting, she couldn’t hold her mouth for five minutes. Sarah remembered the girl mention something about a surprise waiting for her later and a shiver went down her spine. She didn’t like surprises, especially after all the excitement of the wedding.

  Finally Sarah stepped beside Hank. The corners of his mouth stretched upward. He had a dimple! She felt herself blush. She hoped he would smile more often as time went by - he looked so handsome when he did.

  The pastor’s words barely registered in her mind as he begun the ceremony. Her mouth felt dry, but she hoped the familiar situation would put her at ease. She’d been to many a wedding before… and Mercy helped her memorize all the right lines.

  But the usual verses were not spoken. At first she thought maybe the pastor just had different chapters prepared, maybe the pages of his bible got stuck. But he did not stop or slow down, he just breezed through the statements, till he came to the last part of the ceremony.

  “I do,” Hank grunted.

  Sarah blinked slightly confused. But there was no changing her mind now. She put on a brave smile.

  “I do,” she almost whispered.

  Hank shuffled towards her and kissed her right cheek. She blushed and glanced at the people out of the corner of her eyes. Some were smirking. Others seemed perplexed. She was, too. Had he kissed her on the cheek out of respect? Or because he was expecting a different bride – one without scars?

  Sarah mustered a smile as her Ma wept into a handkerchief. She felt her own eyes welling up. She wished they could stay longer, but the children had been getting restless and feverish. Louisiana’s warm seasons hadn’t prepared them for the incoming winter.

  Hank bent his elbow beside her. She took it, and looked up at his face noticing a few drops of sweat trickling down his neck. He didn’t look at her, busy nodding and smiling at the guest they passed, who showered the newlyweds with congratulations.

  Chapter 4

  His shoulder tightened under the weight of her hand. Betsy was hopefully out the back door by now. He cleared his throat and turned to Sarah, who had a blindfold on. It took him a while to convince her to wear it, which in turn planted doubts in his mind. What did he let Betsy talk him into?

  He opened the door and led his wife inside. Betsy was still at the table, lighting a candle, one of many that filled the room. Hank scowled as his sister looked up, but she just grinned, winked at her brother, and tiptoed out the back.

  “H-hank?” Sarah called out.

  He squeezed her hand. She didn’t flinch. Good, he wasn’t being rough. Years of gripping a pickaxe didn’t exactly prepare him for a lady’s hand. Warmth spread across his cheeks and chest. Good thing Sarah was wearing a blindfold.

  He took off the blindfold and smiled as her stepped aside. “Surpri–“

  Sarah’s eyes widened. Good, he thought expecting a squeal of joy he had h
eard from his sisters many a time. But Sarah just glanced from candle to candle burning bright in the dark house.

  There was no squeal of joy, nor a tearful smile. Instead, a shriek of horror filled his ears, and then screaming her lungs out she fled the house.

  Chapter 5

  Sarah grasped one of the trees next to the winding path to town. Her throat burned as she took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. She closed her tear filled eyes, but she could not get the image out of her mind. All those candles, all that fire.

  She no longer smelled the stew, she heard bubbling back at Hank’s house. She no longer saw the candles. Suddenly she was back at her childhood home filled with smoke that made her choke and the smell of burning flesh.

  Sarah buried her face in her hands and sobbed. A candle. It all started with one candle back then. As if on cue, the scars on her face tingled. The left side of her body felt hot, as if someone set it aflame once again… She stumbled, and fell to her knees.

  Sarah shook her head trying to get rid of the memory as she did so many times before. She looked around with blurry eyes trying to find the way to the main road. But the forest was dark and she didn’t know her way. She was far both from town and from… Hank.

  “No,” she muttered. Oh, Lord, no… Her throat hurt. She had screamed and cried. And Hank saw. He heard her hysterics.

  “Stupid,” she said. “What’ll he think of me now?”

  This was a stupid idea. She never should’ve let Olive talk her into this. How could she think she could keep her fear a secret? She couldn’t go near an open flame without panicking. The thoughts she kept at bay all this time flooded back in. How will she cook for her husband? How will she set fire to the hearth when she passes out at the thought of holding matchsticks? What use was she here? With a bigger family there was always someone to help her out, but here, with just the two of them?

  The bushes moved behind her. She tensed.

  “S-Sarah?”

  She wiped her eyes and tried to make herself look proper. She looked up at her husband holding a lantern – will he still want her after this fiasco?