The Rancher’s Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 3) Read online

  The Rancher’s Bride

  ©2019 by Stella Clark

  All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  The young woman didn’t mean to kiss the stamp before she turned the letter over to the handler, but when the note was gone, she suddenly missed it. She watched the man with sandy blond hair climb up onto the stagecoach, tip his hat, and slip the bag of letters away carefully.

  Hollie Markland clasped her hands together and took a shaky breath. It was just foolishness, she told herself. Simple foolishness that could lead into all types of directions she wasn’t quite certain she wanted to explore. But her eyes stuck to the young man driving the horses out of town, and she knew her letter was out of reach now. It was going west, off to Montana just like her last five letters.

  “Hollie! My shoe. Look at my shoe. Look, see? There’s mud on it. Tommy splashed mud on my shoe, Hollie.”

  The high plaintive voice stirred her from her thoughts. The pounding in her heart slowed as her youngest sister, Josephine, pouted with one hand gesturing toward the ground and the other tugging on Hollie’s skirt. They both looked down to see that, indeed, one black boot was covered in brown mud.

  If mud was good for anything, Hollie decided, it at least covered the missing buttons. Those shoes had gone through all three of the Markland girls. First Hollie, and then Ruth, and now Josephine. There wasn’t a lot of room for new clothes in a family of seven children. Trying to put herself back on track, Hollie crouched down to the little girl’s face and brushed back the soft curls. She was too serious for a six-year-old.

  “That wasn’t very nice of Tommy,” she said with a nod, “but surely he didn’t do that on purpose. Nonetheless, my darling Josephine, it’s only mud. And what is mud?”

  Josephine shifted but the pout didn’t budge. “Dirt and water.”

  “Which means we can wash it right off. We can do that at home, can’t we?”

  “But I didn’t want to go home yet,” Josephine explained. “I don’t like being at home. There’s nothing to do. Only lots and lots of chores.”

  Hollie’s lip twitched. “What? Don’t you like your chores?” Her sister made a face and that was enough to make her laugh. She straightened up and tugged on her sister’s messy braid. “It’s time to go back, all the same. I’ll need to get started on supper. Do you want to help me with the bread?”

  “I suppose.” Josephine’s gaze dropped back down to her shoes as she daintily tried to kick the mud off without falling over or touching it with her hands. It made their walk home rather tricky and slow, but Hollie wasn’t in a hurry. Her sister had a point, after all. Home wasn’t a lot of fun.

  The two girls kneaded the bread as Ruth prepared the soup. Every couple of minutes, Hollie would check and recheck the measurements. Then she’d glance at the shelves and then to the front door, waiting for her father and brothers to return from the factory. Their mother was in the next room, finishing her work as a seamstress. Everyone needed to work to survive in Boston.

  But even then, sometimes it wasn’t enough. The Marklands gathered around the supper table as the sun set. Hollie glanced at the platters, wishing she’d had enough flour to spare for two loaves instead of one. So she passed it up when it came around, feeling her parents’ gaze on her as she took the smallest pieces of every dish.

  “I saw Mr. Bartholomew again,” their father spoke up in the silence. The kids chewed quietly, their gazes down. “He asked about you, Hollie.”

  That’s when all the eyes turned on her. She stared at her nearly empty plate and pushed around the green beans. Mr. Bartholomew was a machinist at the car factory her father and brothers worked at. He was an older man, never married, and had more hair on his body than she thought possible. And she hadn’t even seen that much.

  But the children were growing, and the three-bedroom home wasn’t big enough for all of them. Mr. Bartholomew wasn’t the first man her parents had brought up or brought by the house. Ever since she was fourteen, they’d been trying to help find her a new home, a place where she had enough to eat. Her own home to tend to.

  “That’s nice.” She put the fork down, realizing it was time to tell everyone the truth. It had been five months now, and they needed to know. “Please send him my greetings. However, I suppose it might come time to … that is, I know I haven’t … well, I’m leaving.”

  Everyone stopped, their mouths falling open in shock.

  Her face heated up, and she looked around at her family—her mother, father, Ruth, Josephine, Michael, Daniel, Tommy, and Robert. They were a good little family, in a hard little life. She took a deep breath and prayed that her next family would have love in it, too. “I … I’ve accepted a proposal. He’ll be sending for me. He … he’s a good man. A … a rancher, in Montana.”

  The Markland children watched their parents exchange glances with furrowed brows. It was suppertime, so Hollie knew there would be no more conversation until Mother and Father had an opportunity to discuss the new matter at hand. Swallowing, she finished her green beans and waited to be excused.

  Her parents wouldn’t stop her. She was eighteen years old; too old to be at home, especially with so many mouths to feed. And she had the answers to their questions. Yes, he was a God-fearing man. Yes, he had a warm home and hundreds of acres of land. And yes, he already had children of his own—two children who needed a mother. That was the only aspect that worried her, but as she looked around at the siblings she had helped raise, Hollie felt an assurance that she could do it.

  After all those years of prayers, surely this was what the Lord wanted her to do with her life.

  Chapter Two

  It was a chilly morning. Anton Delaney rubbed his hands together to warm them up as he stepped out the back door to look towards the mountains. They were practically on his doorstep and looked mighty pretty with the sun rising right behind them. He’d built the house eight years ago, right around the time his Paul was born. They’d stayed in Pastor Williams’ old place until this was ready for their little family.

  He’d just wanted something that would keep them warm in the winter and dry against the snow and rain. It was his wife, Julie, who’d decided their front door would face the setting sun and the back door would face the rising sun. She’d had a whole theory about how it would bless their family. So he had done that, just for her.

  And they’d been blessed for a good while. His ranch thrived, his animals grew, and they were blessed with a sweet little girl shortly afterwards, as well. Anton had expected life to be hard, certainly, but he’d expected his wife to be with him during those difficulties. Instead, she’d passed away just this last year, leaving him with too much space and children who had just stopped asking where Julie had gone.

  Pulling on his gloves, he glanced towards the snowy mountaintops and wondered if the summer was really here or not. May was a tricky month, and he never knew what to expect.

  “Are they
awake?”

  Martha Reed, his foreman’s wife, arrived in the wagon with her four children. It wasn’t far from their house, just down the road, but as the children stumbled out sleepily, Anton could see the use in using the wagon for just a few hundred yards. He glanced at the woman who wore a tight-lipped smile, clearly already tired of her children.

  He tipped his hat and hesitated. “Good morning, Mrs. Reed. I’m afraid not. I wanted to let them get some rest …” Anton stopped, feeling guilt leech onto his chest as he looked at her kids. There was no one else around to watch Paul and Jenny except for Martha since he needed all his hands available. They hadn’t had clear skies like these for some time with the heavy winter and with June right around the corner, they had to take advantage of it while they could.

  “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I really am grateful to you, ma’am. And, well … it won’t be much longer. I can assure you of that.”

  “Oh?” The older woman gave him a look as she continued up the steps, attempting to shepherd all her kids through the door. “Why? Are you finally getting yourself a nanny?”

  The words spilled before he could help it. “No, actually. I’m getting me a wife.”

  Martha Reed stopped short, one hand on her youngest child’s head who stumbled into the wall. Neither of them appeared to notice. “Oh, are you now?” She stared. “Is—is it Nancy, from town?”

  His cheeks reddened. “No, I … I actually put an ad out. You know, for a bride. Out East, I thought …” Anton struggled for words. “She’s got experience, you see, with children. And she agreed to marry me, so she’s … on her way here.”

  “You … Anton Delaney,” Martha asked quietly, “did you mail order yourself a bride?”

  Anton swallowed. “I did. She, uh, she arrives next week. So—so you’ll be free to tend your own children in your own home. Just thought you should know.”

  She stood above him now, in front of the door as he stood at the bottom of the steps. The Reeds had been with him since the beginning, old friends of his ever since he first arrived in Montana. He held very high esteem for both of them and had hesitated on saying anything to them. Well, to anyone, really. An itch started up behind his ear. Maybe he should have consulted them earlier than this.

  “Well, I’ll be …” she murmured quietly. It took a minute before she nodded. “Good. Your home could use a woman again. I’m not exactly the replacement you’re looking for, after all. Now get back to your cows, sir. My husband is already in the northern fields waiting on you.” She offered a stiff smile and disappeared inside.

  Anton let out the breath he’d been holding. Rubbing his ear, he started towards the barn to get his horse. He couldn’t help a glance back at the house and wondered if he’d made a mistake; made a mistake by choosing to stay here after his wife passed, made a mistake having Mrs. Reed take care of his children, made a mistake bringing in a new wife, or made a mistake not telling anyone about it.

  He gritted his teeth as he saddled his horse. It was a bad habit, second guessing decisions he had already made. Both Paul and Jenny were having a hard time of everything, after all. Losing a mother wasn’t easy, especially in such a small town that wasn’t exactly made for children. He just didn’t know what to do with them. He’d prayed and prayed, and this was the only solution that had come to mind.

  The Lord wanted a man to have a wife, didn’t He? And for children to have a mother, didn’t He? Anton took a deep breath and told himself he was being a darn fool. It was going to work out, one way or the other. He missed Julie more than anything in the world, but he knew the children needed someone more. So he was doing it for them, and he was doing it for her.

  “Hup to, old boy,” he muttered to the horse, and headed out to start the day.

  Chapter Three

  It was just nerves, Hollie told herself. Surely, that’s all they were. Just nerves wound up so tight in her stomach that she could hardly breathe. She clutched her purse now, tighter than she had when the stagecoach driver had shouted they had arrived in Bannack, Montana.

  She was there. Blinking rapidly, the young woman tried to take in the sights. There were mountains, so many mountains. They towered over the little town of Bannack. It made her stomach even tenser. And, Anton had told her he lived outside of the town, in an even more rural area. Hollie thought she had a good imagination but nothing had prepared her for this reality.

  The carpet bag was all she had to her name. Tightening her grip, Hollie glanced around. She wasn’t sure what her future husband looked like. She worried and wondered if he would recognize her. Not knowing how to describe herself, she’d offered the idea of a tall girl with too much brown hair and thin lips.

  “Ms. Markland?”

  Hollie turned and sucked in a breath so suddenly that she began to cough. “Oh … oh my! Yes, I … Oh, I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat. Her heart lurched as her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. Of course he was here. She straightened up and licked her lips as she got a good look at the stranger she’d promised herself to.

  He was older, sure enough, but not as old as she’d expected. Probably only ten years older than herself without a sight of gray hair in his neatly-combed dark hair. His lips were stiffly shut but she saw the crow’s feet by his eyes and knew he must be as kind as his letters. She reminded herself she might not love him, as she had accepted when she had first answered his ad, but surely they would come to some form of pleasant agreement.

  Especially with the children. Oh God, she prayed, please bless the children. Help me to love them as their mother did, to do right by them. Help me to do right by Mr. Anton Delaney.

  On the other hand, he’d had a few minutes to study her before making his way to her side. There had been four other travelers, two sets of two. It could only be her. She certainly had brown hair like she had mentioned, so much that it spilled from her hat and down her shoulders. It was pretty, he decided.

  “Anton Delaney. I … It’s good to meet you,” Anton offered and then belatedly tipped his hat. He spent so much time around his men that he kept forgetting about that lately. “Do you have any bags?”

  She’d nearly forgotten. “Oh yes. I mean, no. Just this one.” Hollie lifted up the heavy carpet bag to show her intended just how little she’d brought with her. Immediately, Anton accepted the piece of luggage as though she’d offered it to him and carried the bag as though it weighed nothing.

  Her mouth opened in protest, but she stopped herself in time. The man was trying to be a gentleman, she reminded herself. That idea helped one of the knots untangle in her stomach, and she found herself able to take a deep breath. Surely, this was a good man.

  They were quiet as he guided her to his wagon. She was carefully helped up to the front seat before he moved to the other side, untying the horses as he went, and climbed up beside her. When his thigh brushed her leg, a hot blush spread across her cheeks again, and she prayed it would stop. She’d just recovered from her embarrassing cough.

  Anton noticed both moments of pink on her cheeks, but forced himself to do nothing. He was on a tight schedule, after all. Picking up the reins, he glanced at the pretty little girl beside him and wondered if he really was crazy. “I’ve already spoken to the pastor,” he announced. “He’s ready to marry us now.”

  “Now?”

  She had such big eyes, he marveled. But with her bonnet, he couldn’t quite see exactly what color they were.

  The man swallowed tightly, dropping his gaze. He felt like a young boy all over again, trying to find the right words to say in front of a girl. “I thought it best before I … before I took you home. If you don’t mind?”

  Blue. They were blue eyes that warmed up as she smiled. “Of course. It’s why I came, isn’t it?” She nodded. “Let us meet your pastor.”

  Pastor Williams went back and forth between Bannock and Green Peak, where Anton lived. Montana was a big place and even the faithful church attendants didn’t have time every week to leave their fields and anim
als. Anton brought Hollie to the church there in Bannock where the pastor’s family acted as their witnesses for their simple ceremony.

  She wasn’t certain what she had expected, but it made Hollie a little glad that she had such few expectations. Though she had once hoped for flowers at her wedding, this was something she was able to put past her, and she said all her lines appropriately.

  Mr. and Mrs. Anton Delaney shared a chaste kiss. And then, with both of their hearts beating right out of their chests, they headed for home. As Hollie wished to find something to ask Anton about her new home, she couldn’t find the words. At the same time, Anton tried to find something to say about the mountains and the fresh air, but he couldn’t get his tongue to work.

  They drove peacefully on their way to the Wild Creek Ranch. There was a dip in the valley that brought them to the greenest plains. When the horses led them over a river, Hollie caught sight of wildflowers growing in every color she could have possibly dreamed of. Flowers turned to tall trees that finally gave way to mountains.

  It was different than the world of cobblestone streets, factories, and smoke. Instead, there was a natural sense of peace and beauty that she didn’t feel was possible to ever break. An absent smile slipped over her lips as they drove deeper into Montana. And seeing those pretty curled-up lips, Anton smiled in relief. Perhaps, they both considered, this was the right choice after all.

  Chapter Four

  The Delaney house was twice the size of the Markland home. It stood tall against the winter winds and offered shade in the sunshine and rain. One floor had a good-sized attic, and there was a large wrap-around porch adorned with two rocking chairs and a bench. Patterned curtains hung in the windows, faded but still a spark of color against the dark logs.

  A small thrill of excitement ran its way through Hollie’s spine as they pulled up. “I’ll put the horses away in a heartbeat,” Anton explained as he hopped off the wagon and made his way to her side. “Let me first introduce you to the children.”