The Widowed Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 7) Read online

  The Widowed 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

  Chapter 15

  Stay in touch...

  Facebook

  Newsletter

  Chapter One

  The streets of Philadelphia were laid out with colorful shops and happy travelers. Virginia Hartwell clutched her arms to her sides, protecting the little money purse hidden within the folds of her skirt. It was a lively place, but these days, everything felt dangerous. The horses could step on people, the carriages could run people over, and the people were risky. They could lie and cheat and steal and hurt.

  Her heart jumped into her throat as she recognized a man in the streets. It was the top hat that singled him out, one of the few men on the east side of town who could afford the silly object. And he had noticed her.

  She turned away quickly and hurried home. Virginia didn’t want to talk to him. Don’t look back, she told herself, just don’t look back and get inside. Hurriedly, she placed a chair against the door and sat, clutching her hands anxiously. Had he followed her all this way?

  Virginia jumped as he pounded on the door.

  “Mrs. Hartwell!” Gary Pell shouted on the other side. “I know you’re there. Come out at once.”

  Just as she considered not answering the man, Mr. Pell pounded again. She flinched.

  “I want my money back. One way or the other, you’re going to get it for me. I don’t care what has to be done. But if you can’t come up with the funds by the end of the month, I’ll find recompense in another form. Mrs. Hartwell! I want my money. And I’m going to get it.”

  Virginia swallowed hard, curling over as though to make herself smaller. She hiccupped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Had he heard?

  He pounded the door once more for good effect. It was another minute before she heard his footsteps move. Her eyes flitted around the house. There was another window on the back wall, but this was the only door. This had only been home for the last year when her husband had fallen on hard times and moved them here. They had made do, just as they had done for the first five years of their marriage.

  Things had been fine until nine months ago when Samuel Hartwell had died during a carriage accident, one that she hadn’t seen, but which everyone had been more than happy to tell her about. Now they all stared. Virginia knew they’d whispered about how she couldn’t afford a black veil and hadn’t cried at his grave.

  Just like when she was sixteen, she’d been left to fend for herself again. At sixteen, she had married the first man who could provide a home for her, Samuel Hartwell, a domineering man more than twice her age with a sharp tongue. It had not been a happy or peaceful marriage. But it had kept her off the streets.

  The silence sank in. Pell had left. Gary Pell had once been a good friend to them, a business partner. But now he had turned into a sour man who continuously demanded money. Where was she to get that? A widow in a dank little home had nothing. She’d just sold off her wedding band though the money would only feed her for a few weeks.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Rubbing her face, she tried to think. Pell had a reputation, one she had no interest in being linked with. Just the thought of him made her shudder. He was a man who followed through with his threats, a man worse than her husband. She had to be careful.

  Swallowing hard, Virginia pushed back the nausea.

  ***

  The next day she went into town to try and sell her kitchen table. But no one was interested.

  Leaning against a building, Virginia watched the crowds. One very young newspaper boy ran along in a hurry. Her eyes trailed him as she wondered if he still had parents. As she lowered her gaze, it fell upon a newspaper that he had dropped. She picked it up curiously. The pictures had always fascinated her. A fresh pamphlet slipped out then, showing a man and a wife smiling on the pages.

  Her curiosity got the better of her. “Excuse me,” she called the boy over. “Can you read this to me? I’ve a nickel if you do,” she added when he narrowed his eyes.

  “You can’t read?” he asked curiously.

  “Just tell me what it says,” Virginia insisted.

  Chapter Two

  The items gathered on the counter were bright and bountiful. Surely this purchase alone would put the mercantile in a better spot. Jake Benson offered a smile to the mayor’s wife, Margaret Connell, before glancing down at his papers to tally up the items. “Here you are,” he provided her total. “And that’s just the amount for today. Would you like to settle some of your store debt as well?”

  As she waved a hand in the air, his stomach sank. “Just add it up. My husband, the mayor, will take care of that.”

  Glancing down at the numbers, Jake hesitated. “Ma’am, there’s more than twenty dollars on here. It’s been going back for nearly three months, you see, and it’ll need to be paid soon. Sooner than later.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t handle the financials. You’ll have to talk to my husband. Now, could you be a dear and help me to the cart?” She headed to the door without waiting for an answer.

  Jake scooped up the items to follow Mrs. Connell out the door. He gritted his teeth and tossed the purchases into the nearby wagon. She could organize them herself. “There you are. Have a beautiful day, ma’am.” And he left before she could ask for more.

  Thankfully, other customers paid in full. Once the shop emptied out, Jake avoided looking at the numbers by cleaning up. He started on the ground floor before working his way up to the second. It was a warm day and warmer there. But it was his favorite place to be when he had a moment to spare.

  At first, it had been a single-floor mercantile in San Paulo, California. As the final stop before Los Angeles and the surrounding towns, San Paulo could be busy. While small towns had popped up all over, it was San Paulo that connected with the travelers in stagecoaches. Those passing through made it a central hub in which they could travel as necessary.

  Jakob Benson had initially gone west for the gold but then, having lost interest, had come south instead for the better weather. He’d come here and met Libby. Sweet Libby Gerber, San Paulo’s sweetheart. She had the prettiest brown eyes and the kindest smile. She’d picked him. In less than a month, they had been happily married. Then he’d trained in this very mercantile while apprenticed to her father, Walter.

  He had been a good man who, unfortunately, soon passed away. Jake hadn’t known what else to do other than to take over the shop. His wife had been so proud and hopeful. One of their first moves had been to build the second floor and move there together. The attic held so many memories. Most of them were of Libby.

  A sigh escaped his lips. She had meant everything. Even more since the fever had taken her away. This store was all he had left of her. Sometimes he swore he could still hear her humming.

  “Is anyone here?”

  Jake straightened. “Yes! I’m here. We’re open!” He hurriedly turned back to the shop.<
br />
  Myrtle Biggins was waiting for her usual supply of tobacco. The woman gave him a look with her beady eyes, offering a grim smile as he put the container on the counter. “Good. I’ve already put the San Paulo News by the door. Someone’s got to do the work around here.” Then she glanced around as he put the money away. “Looks like that’s just you.”

  He managed a smile. “Yes, it is just me. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Her arthritic hands clutched the tobacco. “No. If anyone needs help, it’s you. The bags of oats are crooked, you know.”

  “No need to tell me twice,” he mumbled once she’d gone. Glancing down, he saw the accounting sheet he’d been trying to avoid. It was not going to look good. He wasn’t ready yet. Leaving the counter, he went to pick up a newspaper.

  A pamphlet fell out, The Matrimonial Times. Jake thumbed through it curiously. Strangers setting up marriages? That sounded like a terrible idea. But the couple on the front looked happy. He read it again, even though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. He’d already had the perfect marriage with the perfect woman. There was no need to try again.

  But then again, he needed help.

  Chapter Three

  She had never been in a stagecoach before, and now, suddenly, she’d spent several days in one. It was a bumpy road, no matter where they were, and usually it was hot and stuffy no matter the weather. Virginia glanced around at the other travelers, wondering if they thought the same thing.

  At least she had a window, she tried to console herself. Her eyes roamed the scenery. Tonight they would be riding through the night with a change of horses and drivers. Virginia doubted she’d get any rest.

  The land was wild. There was no other way to explain it. Untouched mountains and trees and bushes. She had never seen so many shades of green. If only the stagecoach wasn’t so bumpy. Another dip in the road slammed her shoulder into the wall. The young boy beside her had been dozing and bumped her elbow, waking up with a groan. She didn’t blame him.

  California. She’d never thought she’d go that far. No one in Philadelphia had known anything about the land, just gold and natives and wild deserts. It was all anyone seemed to know. She wished she could have found some newspaper or book that mentioned more.

  But that would warrant reading. She bit her lip. She’d hired the boy, Thomas, to help her write the letters and read them. It had been a tiring process that had taken months. She’d spent more nickels on his help than on anything else. By the time she sold the little house and sent Gary Pell what she could, Virginia had close to nothing. Just enough to get a bag for her journey. After that, she’d be at the mercy of her new husband.

  That made her dizzy. After she’d reached out to four men, some who, it turned out, were definitely not gentlemen, Jakob Benson had finally accepted her letter. His ad had been simple, asking for a marriage of convenience. He needed help running his mercantile and she needed a roof over her head.

  Mr. Benson had paid for the stagecoach. It was the cheaper option, which she understood. Samuel would have done the same thing whether he had the money or not. The man hadn’t liked to use his money on much, preferring to hoard it over anything else. Just recalling the times when she had begged him for enough money for supper or the leaking roof made her nauseous. Samuel had not been an easy man.

  Closing her eyes, Virginia prayed. She prayed to the Lord for His guidance on how to act and she prayed for His help that Mr. Benson was not like Samuel. If he could just be kind, that’s all she would ask for. A dry roof, food when she needed it, and a little kindness. Someone who didn’t treat her like dirt would be nice.

  “Momma,” the boy interrupted her silent prayer as he leaned over and poked the other woman. “Momma? Are we there yet? I want to see Papa.”

  It was the same conversation ever since they had first stepped in the coach. “No,” the woman offered a tight smile, apologizing with her eyes to the others, “not yet. We have four more horse changes and then we’ll be there. You can’t keep asking the same question if you’re not thinking about the answers I gave you. We put you in school, Jessop. Didn’t you learn anything?”

  “Just how to spell some words,” he grumbled. “I keep forgetting. We’ve been here forever.”

  Virginia’s lip twitched. So, she wasn’t the only one that felt that way. “I know the feeling,” she agreed. Her eyes flitted to the mother. “But it helps to look out the window. Have you seen it? It looks flat now, but you can see that we’re headed closer to some mountains. Do you see them?”

  He leaned over her, but she didn’t mind. Children had never bothered her. “Oh, look at those! Momma, you see those? They’re awful big!”

  “Oh really?” His mother settled back into her seat as they shared a glance. “Well, keep an eye out and let me know when it changes.”

  Now that he had been given something to do, the boy was determined to succeed. Trying to help, Virginia leaned out of the way of the window so he could focus. There were moments where he would open his mouth like he was ready to talk, but hesitated, and closed it again. It made Virginia smile.

  Most women her age were mothers by now, after all. She was a twenty-three-year-old widow without children. Samuel hadn’t cared for children, and it was something Virginia had had to accept. When she’d married the man at sixteen, she hadn’t been sure what she wanted. And with him, it never mattered. He didn’t care for her opinion.

  She managed some restless sleep on the road, but while she was awake, she made friends with the nine-year-old boy beside her. He liked maps because they always led to treasure, and he didn’t like babysitting his little sister, Martha, who sat beside their mother. He was very bright and hopeful, and it helped pass the time. Before they knew it, they had arrived in sunny San Paulo.

  Inhaling deeply, she stepped out. “Well, Jessop, I wish you well in Los Angeles. I hope you find your father and your buried treasure.”

  He beamed, his wide grin revealing two missing teeth he said had been punched out during marbles. “Thanks, ma’am! Thanks for the games.”

  She took a deep breath and glanced around as she clutched her bag closely. The child had kept her distracted from her nerves, but no more. She prayed again for a safe and quiet life. She was desperate for that now, knowing she couldn’t turn back. There was nothing in Philadelphia.

  Glancing down at her dusty things, Virginia tried to hold back the sigh. She was dirty and exhausted. Hopefully when her fiancé saw her, he didn’t walk away.

  Chapter Four

  It had not been easy leaving the shop. As he walked down the street, Jake was already tallying up everything else he needed to do such as restacking the newspapers, checking in with the stables about their feed, reorganizing the fabric, bringing out more buttons, and sweeping. It was past noon and he hadn’t swept once.

  Jake’s eyes caught sight of the stables and he invariably took a step in that direction. If he just stopped by, then he would have one errand completed. It would only take a moment.

  “But I’m already late,” he reminded himself.

  The stagecoach would have arrived by now. Most likely his bride-to-be was wandering around, confused and waiting. He hoped she was patient. Virginia Hartwell had appeared nice enough through her clumsy scrawl. She had agreed to marry him and had accepted a marriage of convenience. They each needed someone, she had written, and hoped this marriage would help them both.

  There wasn’t a lot of praying going on in his life. To get where he was now meant that someone wasn’t listening to his prayers, so why bother? He had more than enough on his plate. At this point, he needed to focus on finding his mail order bride and following through with the wedding.

  He wondered if she would have eaten and how much she might have brought with her. There was only so much he could carry, and he didn’t have his cart. A horse could be hitched to it, but there was never the money for any animals. Whatever they couldn’t carry would have to be left behind. Surely she wouldn’t mind.
>
  Before he knew it, Jake had reached the town center. He had to find Mrs. Virginia Hartwell, sure, but he wasn’t sure how. Two handlers were leading the horses around the stagecoach, exchanging them to continue their journey Scratching his chin, he glanced around at the people and tried to decide who might be his bride-to-be.

  There were the two handlers with the horses. Three children across the street watched, pointing and chattering. Then there were two women gathered near the stables. He squinted before realizing one of them was the mayor’s eldest daughter, Catherine Connell, and the other one looked vaguely familiar. Most likely a sister or a friend. Jake continued his search before, finally, he noticed a figure standing alone, making her way around the stagecoach.

  A fine-looking young woman, wandering around. That was the giveaway. The only person standing alone, with a bag in her hands. It was not a very big one. As she continued her search, he had a chance to study the woman he had spent so much of his savings on. But it was an investment, one that he felt determined would pay out.

  Her bonnet was wrinkled and limp, revealing dark curls that framed her oval face. She squinted, bunching up her nose as she bit her lip. That was a bad habit, but one he could live with. And she was young, very young. He hadn’t thought about that. Twenty-three had seemed a fresh age compared to his near thirty. But he’d never considered what it might be like.

  The girl looked like she belonged in finishing school. Her bag hung loose in her arms, possibly meaning that it was heavy. He was just considering the idea that she didn’t have long arms when he realized that she was quite short. That felt like a potential problem. He pondered on whether or not he would need more assistance from someone tall when he realized that he was still staring at her. And she was looking back.

  Jake choked on a dust cloud. There he was, all up in his head again. Coughing, he headed over and tried to dust off his clothes. He’d committed to this endeavor, after all.