Mail Order Motherhood (Brides of Beckham Book 8)

BOOK: Mail Order Motherhood (Brides of Beckham Book 8)
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Mail Order Motherhood

 

Book Eight in the Brides of Beckham

 

By Kirsten Osbourne

 

Copyright 2013 Kirsten Osbourne

 

License Notes

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

When Clara's husband dies and leaves her with two children and a farm she can't run on her own, the bank evicts her small family, and she needs to find a new home fast. She answers an advertisement to be a mail order bride, hoping that the agency will find a place where she can not only be useful, but her children can be loved.

Recently widowed Montana rancher, Albert, can't raise his children alone, but won't risk loving another woman. Albert is convinced that he'll never love another woman like his deceased wife. When Clara shows up with two children, he's certain he’s made a mistake by taking another woman into his home. Can Clara convince him that together they can be a happy family?

 

 

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Prologue

 

 

Elizabeth Miller took a deep sniff of the beautiful summer air.  It was hot, but she didn’t mind.  She was off work for a change and she’d sneaked away from her family.  She sighed.  She’d never really understood why their younger brothers and sisters had made Susan so crazy.  Yes, they had always annoyed her, but they hadn’t made her want to hurt them.  Now that she was the oldest at home?  She wanted to hurt each and every one of them on a daily basis.  Why couldn’t they act human?

She was on her way to town to mail a letter to Susan, her older sister.  Susan had moved away a year before to be a mail order bride, and now lived happily with her husband and four sons in Fort Worth, Texas of all places.  She wondered how Susan would react if she just showed up on her doorstep and said she couldn’t handle the “demon horde” any longer.  She chuckled as she imagined how her sister would respond.

The good people of their church had nicknamed their younger brothers and sister the demon horde years ago, and she fully understood why.  They were hellions, each and every one of them.

Elizabeth didn’t walk fast, because she was in no hurry to go back home.  She would go to the post office and mail her letter, and then maybe she’d go to the mercantile and look around.  She hadn’t been there in a while.  She had days off so rarely that it was time she took full advantage.  She felt a touch of guilt that she hadn’t told her mother she wasn’t working that day, but she was so happy to finally be able to get away, she tried to ignore the guilt.

When she got to the post office, she heard a familiar voice from the front of the line.  When the woman turned around, limping toward her, she knew she was right.  “Mrs. Long!”

The older woman stopped in front of Elizabeth and smiled.  “Susan Miller’s sister.  Elizabeth?  Is that right?”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded.  “You’re good with names.”

“Sometimes I am.  I try to be.”  Harriett Long was flipping two letters in her hands over and over.

“I’m mailing a letter to my sister now.  She’s so happy.  Thank you for what you did for her.  I’m so happy there’s a mail order bride service in our town to help people who need it.”  Elizabeth stepped to the front of the line and gave the post mistress her letter.  “Anything for my family?”

The post mistress smiled and handed her a letter.  “You got another letter from Susan.”

Elizabeth clutched the letter to her chest and saw Harriett was still standing there waiting for her.  She held up her letter.  “I got one from Susan!”  She got weekly letters from her sister, but she was thrilled for each one.

Harriett smiled.  “I’m glad.  She seems really happy when I hear from her.”

“Oh, she is.  You really changed her life.”  Elizabeth stepped out of the post office and breathed deeply, smiling happily.  “I love days off.”  She looked around the town and wondered what she wanted to do with her time.

“Would you like to have a piece of pie next door?” Harriett asked.  There was a small café beside the post office where she had stopped to eat with several of her brides over the time she’d been running her business.

Elizabeth nodded.  “That sounds fine.  I have all day to do whatever I want, but my parents don’t know I’m off, so I need to be gone all day.”

Harriett laughed, linking her arm through Elizabeth’s.  “Let’s have lunch then.”

She led Elizabeth to the small café, and they sat down at a table in the corner.  “How’s business going?” Elizabeth asked once they’d ordered their food.  She’d been fascinated by the mail order bride business Harriett ran since she’d met the other woman.

“It’s going really well, but I’m about to have to close it.  I’m going to be a mail order bride myself.”

Elizabeth gawked at Harriett for a moment before shaking her head.  “You can’t close the business!  What about the women who need a way out?  They need to be able to do something.”  She bit her lip.  “I’m thrilled for you, though.”

“Thank you.”  Harriett shrugged.  “I agree about the business, but I’m moving to Seattle.”

Elizabeth sighed, looking down at the table.  “I’m really happy for you.  I’m just sad for the women of Beckham.”  She’d heard stories about other women in the area being able to leave and be happy thanks to Harriett’s services.  She really felt like the town was better off for having a mail order bride service there.  “Do you have any friends who could take it over?”

Harriett shook her head.  “I don’t.  I don’t know who I would even ask.”  She sighed and suddenly her face lit up as she looked at Elizabeth.  “What about you?  Have you ever wanted to run a business?”

Elizabeth slowly shook her head.  “I love the idea of being independent, but I live with my family.  You know, the ‘demon horde?’  There’s no way I could run a business with that kind of chaos going on around me.”

Harriett seemed to think about the problem.  “I was worried I was going to have to let all the servants in my house go.  I’m taking my butler, Higgins, with me, but I need someone who will be willing to stay in the house.  I can set up a fund that the money for household upkeep will come from.  That way no one will have to find a new job, and you’ll have a place to work.”

Elizabeth stared at Harriett in shock.  “Are you saying I can live in your beautiful house with no cost?”

Harriett laughed.  “The cost will be learning to run my business and helping the women of Beckham.”

“I’ll have to speak to my parents, of course, but I love the idea.  I won’t be eighteen until October.  Would you have a problem with me running it before I turn eighteen?”

“I won’t.  But I’ll want to pick out a new butler for you.  Someone who will be able to run any errands you need and take care of problems.  Higgins can show him how to do the job before he goes.”

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes bright.  “I’d love to do it then.  I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than helping others.”

Harriett squeezed Elizabeth’s hand.  “It’s a deal then.  Talk to your parents and come to me tomorrow.  I leave in a month, and I want every minute of that time to talk to you about how I do things.” 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Albert stared down at the burnt roast and wanted to scream.  How many meals would he burn before he figured out how to make a simple dinner for his family?  It was a good thing the local bakery kept stocked with bread, or his children would never have anything to eat.  “Looks like we’re having bread and jam again, kids.”  He walked to the door and tossed out the black meat.

“We like bread and jam, Papa,” Gertrude insisted.  Gertie was six, and she did her best around the house, but her mother had barely had a chance to teach her any homemaking skills before her death six months prior. 

Robert, the youngest at four, nodded.  “Bread and jam is good.”

Albert sighed as he turned back to them.  “I’m glad you think so.  It’s not exactly healthy for you, though.”

He quickly cut several pieces of bread off the loaf from the work table and put them on a plate in the middle of the table along with butter and a jar of jam he’d picked up from the mercantile.  They sat down, and he bowed his head praying over the meal.  He watched as the children devoured the bread.  Their manners had deteriorated a great deal since his wife had died as well.  Why hadn’t she lived long enough to see her children grown up?  Why hadn’t it been someone with no small children to raise?

As he ate his own meal, he thought again about the advertisement he’d seen in the paper.  “Are you lonely?  Not enough women to choose from?  For a small fee, we’ll send a mail order bride to you.  Your expenses include her travel and spending money.  Send a letter with your requirements to Harriett Long, General Delivery, Beckham, Massachusetts to inquire.”

He looked at the little faces, now both covered in jam, and decided it was time.  He couldn’t keep trying to raise them on his own while running his ranch.  It was just too hard.  Gertrude watched over Robert all day, but he constantly worried about them, and rode back to the house several times a day, costing him valuable hours he could be working and mending fences before it got too cold.  Montana wasn’t known for staying warm year round after all.

After the dishes were done and the children tucked into bed, he sat down at the table and wrote a letter.  He didn’t know how long it would take, but two months was too long at this point.  He needed a wife yesterday.

 

*****

 

Clara walked into Beckham, trying not to drag her feet.  She needed to talk to the banker, and she knew his response wouldn’t be favorable.  When her husband had died two years before, she’d been sure that she could keep farming and make enough to support her and their two children.  Now, she wasn’t sure she could even face the banker.  She had to ask for an extension, but she feared she already knew what his answer would be.  He wasn’t the kindest man in the world, and she knew she’d already tried his patience.

Clara had long dark hair and pretty brown eyes.  She had full lips and her nose was uptilted slightly at the end, which had caused many girls in school to say she thought she was better than the rest of them.  She never had felt that way, of course.  She had lost a lot of weight since her husband had died and she’d taken over his farm responsibilities.  There never seemed to be enough food anymore, and she was more worried about her children eating than she was about herself.

She’d put on her prettiest dress for this meeting, but that wasn’t saying much.  She’d had pretty clothes before Nathan had died, but she hadn’t been able to afford new clothes since.  She just couldn’t consistently work as much of the land as he’d been able to.  She didn’t have the strength, and she still had her children to take care of.

She walked into the bank and smiled at the teller at the front.  “He’s waiting for you, Mrs. Baldwin,” the young man said.

Clara walked to the back of the bank to the small office where she knew the bank manager would be waiting for her.  She knocked once on the open door and took the chair he indicated.  She waited for him to start the conversation, because he’d been the one to call her there.

“I’m sure you know why I’ve asked you here,” Mr. Baxter said. 

Clara sighed.  “I’m not going to be able to pay the full amount this harvest.  Can you give me an extension until this time next year?”  She knew the answer.  He’d told her last year that if she didn’t pay it in full this October, she and her children would be out on their ears.  She closed her eyes while she waited for his response, half expecting the man to start yelling at her.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.  “You know I can’t do that.  What kind of a businessman would I be if I kept extending loans to people who will obviously never be able to pay them back?”

Clara didn’t say anything.   She just played with the front of her dress, forming pleats and then laying them flat.  What could she say?

“You’ll need to have the full amount by the end of October, or I will be foreclosing on your land.”

Clara stood and left his office.  She knew no amount of tears would change his mind.  Mr. Baxter was known for removing widows and orphans from land when money was owed.  He had quite a reputation.  She had a bit of money, and since she was going to be evicted, she decided to spend it to make a new dress for her daughter.  The girl’s dresses showed an indecent amount of calf, and now that she was ten, people were starting to look at her with disgust. 

She walked into the mercantile and immediately went to the wanted ads on the back wall.  She had to find a job she could do before she lost the farm.  A job that would pay enough to support her and both children. 

Most of the notices were for farm workers, and she knew she’d never make enough that way, even if someone would hire a woman.  She quickly read over the different notices tacked there and stopped when she saw one that might work. “Mail Order Bride agency needs women who are looking for the adventure of their lives.  Men out West need women to marry.  Reply in person at 300 Rock Creek Road.  See Miss Elizabeth Miller.”  The Millers went to her church, and she knew that the older daughter had been a mail order bride, but she’d had no idea Elizabeth had taken over the running of the agency.

She studied the address for a moment and set out before she lost her nerve.  Surely somewhere in the west was a man who wanted to marry a thirty year old widow with a ten year old daughter and an eight year old son. Right?

Clara was surprised by the house she found when she reached the address.  How was Elizabeth Miller able to afford to live here?  She knocked on the door and held her breath while she waited.  A young man in his mid-twenties came to the door.  He had blond hair and blue eyes, but a formal manner.  “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Miss Miller.  Tell her that Clara Baldwin is calling.”  She tried to act as if she visited houses like that one every day.

“Come inside.”  He led her down the hall to a door on the left.  “Is Miss Miller expecting you?”

Clara shook her head.  “No, she isn’t.”  She hoped she was in and would see her.

He opened the door and said, “There’s a Clara Baldwin here to see you, Miss Miller.”

Elizabeth hurried to the door.  “Mrs. Baldwin.  It’s good to see you.”  She indicated the couch behind her.  “Come in and have a seat.”  Elizabeth’s eyes were kind

Clara was astonished by the lack of surprise in Elizabeth’s eyes.  She’d known the girl since she was small.  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve come to see you,” Clara began.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Of course, I’m not.  You need to find a way to support your family, or you need to marry a man who can do it for you.  I’m very impressed you were able to support them for as long as you have without help.” 

Clara sighed, pleased that Elizabeth understood, and there was no censure in her eyes.  “Is there someone you can send me to?”  Clara hated the idea of leaving everyone she knew behind, but her children needed to be provided for.

Elizabeth turned to the desk she was sitting in front of and quickly flipped through the letters there.  “I think this one would work well for you.  He’s in a similar situation.”

Clara took the letter Elizabeth offered and quickly read through it.  “Dear potential bride, I’m needing a woman who is willing and capable of managing a ranch house.  I have two children, Gertrude and Robert, aged six and four respectively.  My wife died and left me alone with them six months ago, and I must admit that I have no idea how to run a household or raise children.  Sally did all of that for me.  I would like a woman who is over twenty-five.  I do not mind if she has been married before or if she has children.  No more than four children please, because I already have my two.  If you’re willing to work hard and raise two children that are not your own, please send me a letter.  I would like someone who is willing to move quickly as my children are not eating well, because I’m incapable of cooking a meal without burning it.  I live in rural Montana and work a ranch.  I’m not a rich man, but I can certainly afford a few more mouths to feed.  Thank you.  Albert Hanson.”

Clara read over the letter again before looking up at Elizabeth.  “Yes, he sounds like what I need.”  She thought wistfully of Nathan his smile on their wedding day.  How would she be able to look at another man as her husband?

Elizabeth smiled.  “I thought of you when I first read the letter.”

“Really?  You should have brought it to me!”  Clara was shocked the younger woman had even thought about her but pleased as well.

“I just got it yesterday.  I was planning on talking to you about it at church Sunday.”

Clara sighed.  “What’s next?  I’ve never been a mail order bride before.”

“Well, first thing is writing him back.  Are you in a hurry to get this done?”

“Yes, I have to be off the farm in sixty days or less.”  Clara was embarrassed to admit it, but it didn’t seem to bother Elizabeth at all. 

“That’s a good amount of time to accomplish this in.”  Elizabeth handed Clara a pen and paper.  “You write.  I’m going to run and have tea and cookies sent in here.”  She left the room in a hurry, and Clara noticed the bell for summoning servants with a smile.  Elizabeth was obviously not used to living in wealth.  Clara felt a great deal more comfortable when she realized the other woman probably felt as out of place as she did.

She hurriedly wrote the letter and finished it after Elizabeth came back.  Handing it to the younger woman, she sighed.  “I have no idea how my children are going to feel about this.”

Elizabeth shrugged.  “I hope they’ll be happy to have food to eat and decent clothes to wear.”

Clara sighed.  “I went to the mercantile to get fabric to make a new dress for Natalie, and forgot all about it when I saw your advertisement.  I’ll have to go back on my way home.”

They ate the cookies and tea while Elizabeth talked about the whole mail order bride process.  “Susan couldn’t be happier.  I thought it was strange that she ended up married to her groom’s brother, but she seems content there.  She’s expecting.”

Clara smiled.  She’d always liked Susan.  “How does she feel about that?  I remember how she always felt about the ‘demon horde.’”  Clara had always hated the nickname given to the Miller children, but she certainly understood it.

“I think she’s happy about it.  She seems to be anyway.  Her husband had four boys when they married, so it will be nice if they can have one of their own.  She’s hoping for a girl.”

“Of course she is!  With four boys a girl would be very welcome.”  Clara stood.  “I need to go buy some fabric and head back to the farm.  Thanks for the tea and cookies.”

Elizabeth stood, smiling at the older woman.  “I’m glad you came by.  I’ll run the return letter over to you as soon as I receive it.”

“Thank you.  I’d appreciate that.  I’m going to keep working the farm and get as much as I can from the crop this year.  Maybe I can go to my new husband with some clothes that haven’t been patched twenty times.”

“He’ll send train tickets and a small amount of money for the trip.  Don’t worry too much about having your own.” 

Elizabeth walked Clara to the door and watched her walk away, hoping the older woman would be able to settle in well in her new home.

 

 

*****

 

Albert left the children in the wagon and hurried into the mercantile to check the mail.  Billings was the biggest town around, but it was still small enough that there was no need for a post office.  “Any mail for me?”  He’d started checking last week.  He could only spare one day a week to drive into town, so he checked while he was there buying bread and jam.

Samuel handed him a letter.  “Got this one.”

Albert looked at the return address and opened the letter.  Two letters fell out for him.  One from the owner of the agency, but the other was the one he focused on as he walked back to the wagon.  “Dear Albert, My name is Clara Baldwin, and I’m a twenty-eight year old widow.  I have a daughter who is ten and a son who is eight.  I’ve been widowed for two years and trying to keep up the farm that my husband worked until his death.  The three of us need a fresh start.  I enjoy cooking, and would love to be just a housewife again, instead of a housewife and a farmer.  My children are hard workers as well, and we would work hard for you.  I’m not beautiful, but so far no small children have run away screaming upon seeing my face.  I await your reply.  Yours, Clara.”

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