Zack’s Christmas Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 14) Read online

  Zack’s Christmas 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

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  Chapter 1

  She glanced towards the dark window to listen.

  There was the familiar snipping of their gardener, Jackson, cutting away at the hedges below. It would be the last trim of the year until spring returned to New York City. Their large home would soon be covered in snow. Then the holidays would be upon them. And then spring. And the heat.

  It was an endless cycle that Della Prescott dreaded.

  Every year was the same. There were the same seasons with few differences. There was the same house that she stayed in every day. There were the same parties; one for her family and their friends, and one just for the family.

  Everyone treated the double holidays like they were a special activity, a secret from the world.

  They were a secret. But she wasn’t the one giggling about them like everyone else did.

  Her whole family tried to make the best of it.

  But she knew. She knew because it was all her fault. She had known for as long as she could remember that her life was different, which forced her family to be different, which was all her fault.

  Judy Hanson, the prettiest girl in New York City, had married the finest and richest man on the east coast, Donald Prescott. They had the biggest wedding New York had seen in over fifty years. It was the talk of the century. Apparently, it was still referred to in the newspapers for many reasons.

  Everyone had expected a happy ever after future for them and the family they readily built. Except that the moment Judy Prescott held her first baby in her arms, something had gone terribly awry.

  The baby girl had soft blonde hair with bold blue eyes. But there was something wrong. She wasn’t perfect in the way that Judy Prescott had sworn her children would be.

  Della could picture the moment perfectly.

  “What happened?” Judy would have cried out. Her hair would have still looked perfect. The new mother would have been torn between protecting her in her arms and giving her back to be fixed. “What did you do to my child?”

  Sitting at her armoire, Della sighed. It was a lovely little set, handmade just for her only thirteen years ago for her tenth birthday. Everything was perfect about the furniture except for the mirror. There was no mirror.

  Her mother, the stunning Judy Hanson Prescott, had claimed she didn’t need it. She was beautiful without having to appease her vanity. But most of all, she didn’t want to make Della feel bad. That part had not been said, but the silence said enough.

  “Miss?”

  Della froze in her seat, realizing she had been tracing the birthmark on her cheek again. It was red and a little puffy, very distinctive and not something that she could hide.

  Because she couldn’t hide it, her parents thought hiding her away from the world would fix the problem.

  “Yes, Hazel?” She forced herself to smile at the maid. “What is it?”

  The young woman stepped into the room only to frown. “Your meal, Miss Della. You didn’t eat again. Is everything all right?”

  Her eyes dropped over to the table in the other corner of the room where the tray sat. “Oh.” Della shrugged. “I’m fine. I’m just… Did my delivery come? The books? I was waiting on the new books about art. Did they arrive?”

  The younger girl hesitated before shaking her head and picking up the tray. “I’m afraid not. Only two newspapers were delivered. Would you like to read those?”

  She considered it before shaking her head. “No, thank you.”

  Hazel nodded and left. Della was left to her own devices as usual. She studied the dark shades on her window that kept the outside world from seeing her. It didn’t help her see out very well. She wrinkled her nose. Then her stomach growled. Trying not to think about the world she had never been part of, now all Della could think about was the food that had just left the room.

  “Hazel?” Della called over her shoulder.

  But the young woman was gone.

  Though she didn’t have free reign of the world, she did have free reign of the house. Della brushed her long hair over her shoulders as she stood up and headed down the hall. There was the grand staircase to the right, but she didn’t like that one. Her mother didn’t like her going down that one, anyway. There was always the chance they might have an unexpected guest grace their halls. Instead, she preferred the servants’ stairs to the left where she was less likely to be met.

  She reached the back of the kitchen in seconds. Though she raised her voice to call for Hazel and see about finding something to eat at last, there were voices speaking that caused her to hesitate.

  “But a stranger!” It was Lulu’s loud southern voice, the newest of the maids. “You’d up and marry a man you never met?”

  The short cook, Elsie Bell, answered softly. “I think so. Why not? It’s not like there’s a chance to meet any gents when we work all day. Don’t you want to do something else with your life when you grow old? Just think of it. Your own home. A husband to watch out for you.”

  “I don’t know,” Hazel sounded hesitant herself. “Leaving New York? It’s home.”

  “But there’s a whole world out there,” Elsie sighed. “You said yourself you’d leave if you found the right opportunity.”

  Della decided she had listened long enough. “Leave? What, and leave me here on my own?” She tried to turn it into a joke, though it fell awkwardly off her tongue.

  The maids jumped with guilty expressions on their faces. As she looked around, she was disappointed more to see that none of them would look her in the eye. She bit her lip and fiddled with her hair, tugging it in front of her cheek.

  “It’s nothing, Miss,” Hazel started.

  But she shook her head. “No, please. Go on. What are you talking about, marrying strangers? Let’s have us some food, and you can tell me all about it.”

  That made the young girl brighten up. Hazel was a plump young woman who believed food solved all ills and worried about everything. She hurried into the pantry to find a snack as she explained what it meant to become a mail-order bride. The others followed her, filling in the details and offering their opinions.

  It was a quaint idea.

  The boredom and hole in her heart had lasted too long. By the time they finished their conversation, Della pulled Hazel aside with a plan that had begun to form in her mind. She couldn’t stay trapped in her parents’ home for the rest of her life, after all. There was a world out there that she wanted to see. Since her parents were too embarrassed by her existence, she knew she would have to take care of it herself.

  Hazel acted as her intermediary since she already handled the mail. Having few others to put into her confidence, Della convinced the young maid to help her reply to several adverts for mail-order brides. At first, it was dreamy and thrilling.r />
  And then there came a response from a rancher in Dawson, Montana that changed everything.

  Chapter 2

  The cold used to send a thrill down Zack Heston’s spine. He liked the way the seasons changed and what came with it. Christmas was once his favorite time of year. For thirty years, he adored the fir trees and the way the world grew soft.

  But since then, his heart had hardened, and it no longer held the same joy it once had.

  “Papa?”

  His gaze left the open window as it swung over to the little boy sitting at the table. Short brown hair and green eyes made him think of Ella. But it was Ross. Little Ross who was already eight years old. The boy could finally touch the ground with the tips of his toes while sitting around his chair. But now, he was swinging his feet beneath the seat as he stared back with an intense look.

  Pulling himself back to the present, Zack managed a smile. “Yes, Ross? What is it?”

  “Are we going to have Christmas this year?”

  A lump formed in his throat. Closing the window, Zack turned to the table and set another piece of cheese on the boy’s plate. “Of course. It comes every year. Why would you ask me that?”

  The boy shrugged as he ate his cheese with both hands. “I don’t know. It’s just different now. That’s all.”

  Zack knew exactly what he meant. There weren’t words for the pain that clung tightly to his chest and weighed him down. Ella. His wife. Ross’s mother. She had been gone nearly two years. He thought the days would get easier with time, but he was still waiting for a sense of relief.

  “I know,” he managed at last. Taking a seat at the table across from his son, he tried to smile. Ross was still a child, and he deserved to enjoy the holidays. He still deserved a childhood. Zack slapped his hands against the table and tried to look energetic. “We’ll go to your cousins’ house to celebrate. You still like them, don’t you?”

  Ross chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah. They’re fun. I like Bobby the most.”

  “Bobby is a smart kid,” Zack nodded approvingly. Bobby was the oldest and the most responsible. If his son could follow in his nephew’s footsteps, then all the better for everyone. “Good. Now, is there anything you want for Christmas?”

  His son stared down at the last piece of cheese and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  But he did know. He just did that when he didn’t want to say.

  It was clear to his father that the boy was hiding something. Zack couldn’t give up now. He nudged his son on the foot with his boot. “Come on, now. What is it? A wheelbarrow? A toy soldier? No, it’s a horse, huh? I said you’d get one when you’re ten.”

  “I know,” the boy fiddled with the cheese but wouldn’t eat it. Then he put it down and put on a serious face. Eight-year-old boys weren’t supposed to have such sober expressions. But losing a mother could do that to a child.

  The lump in Zack’s throat grew even as he tried to ignore it. “Well?” He forced.

  Ross took a deep breath. “I want a mother for Christmas.” The cheese went in his mouth with a loud plop. It was a big piece so he couldn’t talk. Because he didn’t want to. He stared at the empty plate and waited.

  His hands sat limp on the table between them. Zack wanted to retract them, but worried that his son would take that as a sign that he was angry or pulling away from him. He tried to breathe as he digested what the boy had just said. It was a basic enough concept. His son just wanted to be part of a family again.

  But the simplicity of the truth didn’t prevent the harsh pain that seared his heart.

  ***

  The following Sunday, Zack confessed to his sister about what his son had said. Leah had married Robert Ganey twelve years ago when she was hardly seventeen. Robert had just bought the land next to Zack’s cattle ranch. Though both men understood they should see each other as competition, they found themselves working side by side and frequently offered a helping hand instead.

  “That poor boy,” Leah murmured with a shake of her head. She blew a strand of her blonde hair away from her face after a sigh. “He’s a child, Zack. Of course he wants a mother. Every day he goes to school, he sees the other children with their moms. He feels left out. He misses having a mother’s love.”

  Leaning over the kitchen sink, it took all his strength not to bring the meatloaf up that Leah had prepared everyone for supper. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten too much. Zack closed his eyes as he imagined Ross running around the house looking for the present he knew he couldn’t give his son.

  “How can I disappoint him?” Zack groaned.

  “Get married.”

  Robert walked over with the last couple of plates. It was the three adults in the kitchen now as the children ran around in the snow outside to enjoy the last of the sunlight. Leah muttered something under her breath to her husband as Zack tried to tune them out.

  “It’s only been two years,” Leah hissed. “I told you we’d talk to him about it next year.”

  Her husband snorted loudly. “If Ross wants a mother, I’m sure Zack wants a wife. I’m not being cruel here, Zack. I’m just realistic. Now that I’ve had my good luck charm of a wife all these years, I can’t imagine losing her. I can’t run this house or my ranch without her. The fact you’ve gone this long on your own is a miracle. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

  Leah cleared her throat. “He’s not alone. He has us, remember? Or me, at least.”

  “Hey,” Robert frowned.

  But Zack just shook his head. His heart hurt. Now, all he could see was his son’s eventual disappointment. After all the hardships they had endured in the last couple of years, he’d do anything to make his boy happy again. Really happy. “Even if I wanted to get married again, I don’t know what I would do. There aren’t enough single women in town.”

  “That’s why we’d send out a mail-order bride advert,” Leah offered promptly.

  She hadn’t even hesitated. The woman had clearly put some thought into it.

  So much so that she had him convinced before the sun had set and had an advert all prepared. Leah was the type of person to mother everyone, even if she was the younger of the two siblings. Zack didn’t know how it happened but soon, he found himself exchanging missives to one particular young woman who had responded to his letters.

  “Are you sure about this?” He asked when Leah closed up the most recent letter.

  His sister nodded. “You’re making the right decision. You may think of her as a friend if nothing else?”

  It was an invitation for the young woman - his mail-order bride - to come out west. Though he spent several sleepless nights pondering if it was the right decision to make, especially around the holidays, Zack couldn’t forget the hope in his son’s eyes and eventually decided it was the right move.

  But after the invitation was sent, he decided to send one final letter.

  Just one more. A quick explanation. It would be a marriage, he explained to Della Prescott, but only one of convenience. His heart was too wounded to love another. There wasn’t room to fit another wife in there.

  Still, he would do his best. He would care for her as best he could and give her a safe, warm home. Hopefully that would be enough for everyone. Especially Ross.

  Chapter 3

  Della pulled the veil over her face with shaky hands as her carriage came to a stop.

  She could hear the noise of people bustling about, moving and shouting around the train station. A whistle blew, and it made her jump. A hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to Hazel who looked at her in concern.

  “It’s all right,” Della assured her breathlessly. “I’m all right.”

  That’s what she had to tell herself, as well. That everything was good and that she was making the right decision. Even though she had spent a week repeating this in her mind, Della wasn’t certain she had convinced herself it was the truth just yet.

  But there was no time to spare. It was time for her to go.

&nbs
p; “Thank you for all of your help,” she told Hazel. “I’ll write to you when I have arrived. Please make certain that my parents find the letter on my pillow, would you?” And then she put on her bravest smile. “How do I look?”

  The young maid fixed the netted veil near her ear and ran a hand over her shoulder before nodding. In the last couple of weeks, Della liked to think they had become nearly friends. “Like a queen, Miss Della. You’re terribly brave for doing this. I’ll be looking for your letter and will write you a response of how your family responds.”

  Overcome with emotion, Della wrapped her arms around the young woman. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything.”

  Another whistle sounded, and she took it as a sign that it was time for her to go. Her heart pounded furiously. Della was helped out of the carriage, and Hazel guided her to the steps of the train. It was a mad house of chaos everywhere she looked. The entire street was crowded with people boarding and people staring.

  She couldn’t help but stare in fascination at everyone. How could they live like this? It was hard to imagine living life every day surrounded by so many people. Though her family spoke often of such congestion, she’d hardly ever left the family grounds and had assumed they were making up stories and lies for her. Never had she been free to mill around in the lane that was filled with people shoulder to shoulder.

  When the strangers bumped into her, she faltered. Hazel wrapped a hand around her elbow after she had jumped for the tenth time. It was most crowded, Della decided, and she was relieved when they reached the train and she was helped onboard. Hazel handed over her luggage and offered a small wave.

  Then Della was alone.

  Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and took her two bags into the car where she found the compartment that Hazel had helped her reserve. It was a tiny room, but she had it all to herself. Her heart was pounding as she took a seat and tried to grasp what she had just done. Everything had fallen into place so quickly that she worried she wasn’t holding all the pieces.