Rejected Mail Order Bride

  REJECTED MAIL ORDER BRIDE

  Rejected Mail Order Bride Series

  MONTANA WEST

  Copyright © 2017 MONTANA WEST

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  NOTE TO ADVANCED READERS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MAIL ORDER WIFE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, of course I have to give thanks to God for giving me the gift of writing and the opportunity to share my work with others. Second, I want to thank my family who has been a true rock to me as I’ve started this indie publishing endeavor. Third, I have to thank the ladies at Global Grafx Press (familychrisitanbookstore.net) who have really worked with me in all aspects of getting these books from my hard drive to your hands. Lastly, and most importantly, I have to thank you, my readers, for taking the time to read my work. I hope it touches you as much as it does me.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The persistent knocking at the front door woke Mary Stewart up on that chilly November morning. She didn’t want to get out of her warm bed, but then she remembered that Salome, their elderly housekeeper, had complained of joint pains the previous evening. She suffered from arthritis and when it was cold, she could barely move.

  “I always tell Mama and Papa to get someone younger,” she mumbled to herself as she donned her thick morning coat and woolen slippers and went downstairs to open the door. Their house was single storied and Salome’s room was downstairs next to the kitchen. She opened the door and put her head out.

  “Mary, is that you?”

  “Yes, Salome. Please go back to bed where it’s warm. Someone is at the door and I’ll just check to see who it is.”

  “You’re a dear girl,” the elderly woman said. Mary waited until she had closed her door once again before she walked to the front door. The person was still knocking persistently.

  “I’m coming,” she muttered under her breath. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find two New York Police Department officers standing at her doorstep. They had on thick trench coats and wore leather gloves on their hands. Mary felt dread welling up within her. The only times she had seen policemen appearing at their neighbors’ doorsteps was when they were bringing bad news of a death or life threatening injury.

  “Is this the home of Mr. Alan Stewart?” the older officer, a man with a thick moustache, asked.

  “Yes,” Mary’s voice came out all croaky. She cleared her throat. “Yes, it is.”

  “May we speak to someone older?”

  “I’m his eldest child. Is there a problem, officers?”

  The policemen looked at each other and then back to her. The first one spoke again. “Do you live alone in this house?”

  “Sally our housekeeper is in, but she hasn’t been feeling well so she’s still in bed.”

  “Would you please wake her up?”

  Mary frowned slightly. “She has arthritis and the cold badly affects her. What’s the problem?”

  “Miss Stewart, it would be better if we spoke to someone older.”

  “Alright then, please wait here.” Mary closed the door and locked it, then leaned her back against it. Something had happened to her parents, she could just feel it. But the policemen were clearly determined to speak to someone older.

  Though she was sixteen years old, Mary often passed for a fourteen-year-old because of her clear and smooth skin, baby blue eyes and soft brown hair. She was reluctant to disturb Sally, but there was nothing else she could do.

  “Sally,” she knocked at the door softly. “Sally, are you awake?”

  She heard shuffling feet and then the door opened. “I’m awake, child. What’s the matter? You look shaken.”

  “There are two policemen at the door but they won’t tell me anything. The insisted that I get someone older. Would you please come and see what it is they want? I’m sure it has to do with Papa and Mama.”

  “Alright then, just let me get my housecoat on.”

  When Mary opened the door a few minutes later, the officers were still standing in the same spot. “This is Mrs. Salome Piers,” she told them. “Our housekeeper.”

  “Ma’am, perhaps you could allow us to come in and speak with you.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “We’re police officers,” the older man said. “I’m Sergeant Bill Lay and this is Corporal Lance Hugh from the New York Police Department.”

  “Well, do come in then,” Sally moved backward and led the way to the drawing room that was just a few steps from the front door. “Mary, make sure you lock the door.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Bill waited until both women were seated, then he too sat down. Lance was looking anywhere but at them, and it struck Mary that he was probably a rookie policeman. His uniform looked very new.

  “Ma’am, Miss, as I told you, we’re from the NYPD and would just like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Go ahead,” Sally waved a hand at them.

  “Do you know the whereabouts of Mr. Alan Stewart and his wife, Regina?”

  Both women nodded, but it was Mary who spoke up. “My father and mother traveled to Albany on business. Why? Did something happen to them?”

  Bill sighed, wondering how best to break the news that he had to the two women. Some things just had to be done no matter how hard it was to do so. “I’m sorry, but on the way back from Albany, your parents were involved in an accident.”

  “What?” Mary immediately shot to her feet, shaking her head. “No, it’s not true. Please tell me it’s not true.” She turned to Salome. “What are they saying?”

  “Sit down, Mary. Let’s hear what the officers have to say.” Even though Sally tried to look brave, she was clearly shaken by the news. “Mary, come here, child.”

  Mary sat down next to Sally and clutched her hand. The two women listened with growing dread to the gruesome story. On their way from Albany just after Yonkers, there was heavy snow and poor visibility. The roads were slippery, and apparently the driver of the coach they were in miscalculated the distance between the vehicle and a snowdrift and only realized when it was too late. One of the two horses broke its leg and brought the other plus the coach over the cliff.

  “No,” Mary couldn’t even scream, she just held onto Sally, shaking her head. There was no hope for her parents. She could read that on the officers’ faces.

  Sally also clutched onto Mary as they listened to the rest of the explanation. The bodies of her parents and the driver had been brought to the New York District Morgue, and someone needed to go and confirm their identities. The police had found some documents, which they used to trace the Stewart family. The only other passenger was seriously injured and had been rushed to the Metropolitan Hospital, where he was in critical condition.

  Afterward, Mary didn’t know how she managed to get through the days following the deaths and funerals of her father and stepmother. She operated as if she were outside her body, looking in. But she struggled to be strong for her half siblings, Patrick and Helen, who were twelve and ten years old, respectively.

  Helen was especially affected because she was closer to their parents than Mary and Patrick were. She wouldn’t eat anything, and Mary had a hard time getting her to sleep. The three children would huddle on their parents’ bed, weeping and praying that it was all a big mistak
e.

  Sally became very ill, and her daughter came and took her away, leaving the three children alone and without adult care.

  “Papa, Mama,” Mary wept one evening when she had managed to get the two children to sleep. “Why did you have to leave us when we need you most? I’m only a child, how am I supposed to take care of Pat and Helen?”

  She couldn’t believe that her life had been struck by disaster twice. The first time was when she was three years old and her mother died suddenly after contracting a nasty bout of influenza. Her father had taken to the bottle and neglected her. Fortunately, Regina, who was to become her stepmother, had been visiting her sister who was their neighbor and found Mary crying on the doorstep. She was unkempt and hungry, and the young lady had cared for her. Regina then confronted Mary’s father and scolded him for neglecting his child, and she threatened to get the Children’s Department involved unless he became more responsible.

  Good came out of that quarrel, for the couple fell in love and got married a few weeks later. When her siblings were born, Mary was really happy because she had playmates. Regina had been a good mother to her for more than twelve years, and now she too was gone. She didn’t know what she was going to do because her parents had handled everything about their lives, always saying Mary was too young to be bothered by matters to do with finances and life in general.

  Where would they go, and how would they live? She only knew that her father was a businessman who traveled a lot, but she had no idea what he did. He had never discussed anything with her, and she knew next to nothing about taking care of her siblings. Her stepmother had done all that.

  “What’s going to happen to us, Lord?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Joram Kincaid was tired of finding dead calves in his fields. This was a new venture that he was embarking on, but it seemed as though it would eventually fail him, leaving him ruined. The ranch was less than a year old, and when he had started it there was so much for him to look forward to.

  His green eyes were troubled as he looked around him to see if the predators were still in the vicinity. He had used his rifle to scare them away, but when animals were in a pack, they were bold enough to attack even during the day.

  He had used a good sum of money that he had obtained from the sale of his corn and wheat to purchase five dairy cows and twenty young steers that he intended to fatten and sell. The idea had come to him when he visited his sister, Sarah, and her husband in Linton, North Dakota, three years prior. Mark Collins, his brother-in-law, had just inherited a small ranch from his uncle and it was doing very well. They had fewer than thirty animals, and by culling the herd and selling off the weaker ones every six months, Mark had been able to maintain a healthy herd.

  Besides that, he had some dairy animals for milk and the production of butter. According to Mark, his uncle had advised him to ensure that the dairy animals calved at different times of the year so that the ranch would always have enough milk throughout the year.

  When Joram returned home to Reunion, Nebraska, he had immediately embarked on extensive corn and wheat farming, and his efforts had paid off. His eighty-acre farm had given him good yields for the next two years, and he was then able to get into the ranching business. He was careful to purchase animals which weren’t already mature so he could fatten them himself. The problem was that their presence had attracted unwanted visitors in the form of predators. It seemed as though bad luck was dogging his every effort toward having a good herd. He had reinforced his fencing, but the predators made small work of it.

  This was the fourth calf he’d found, and he feared that if the trend continued, he would soon have no animals left.

  “Dear Lord, what am I doing wrong?” he murmured as he dug a hole to bury the dead calf. He had to dig deep, past the snow so that the coyotes wouldn’t be attracted to the smell of rotting carcasses.

  At this rate, he was going to have to abandon the ranching project altogether, especially if he was unable to control the wild animals that were destroying his herd. As he was covering up the dead animal, he saw Sheriff Martin Clay coming toward him. He got off his horse and walked toward Joram.

  “Joram, what’s going on over there?” He pointed at the three other mounds that lay on one end of his homestead. “Your land is beginning to look like a burial ground.”

  “Sheriff Clay, I don’t know what I’m going to do about coyotes and bears. So far in just under two months, I’ve lost four of my promising steers. Now I have to keep the rest close to home so that they don’t get attacked. Still, those predators are now getting bolder and coming into the compound.”

  “Mmh! What you need are fierce dogs to keep those animals away. How many dogs do you have so far?”

  “None. I just started the ranch, and adding any more animals hasn’t been possible.”

  “Not to worry, I have a couple of well-trained collies that I can lend you until you’re able to buy your own. If you don’t have good dogs, you can be sure that within the next three months, you’ll have lost your entire herd.”

  “I’m just worried about the cold days to come. Truthfully, I was able to get these animals at a low price because the farmer lost a good part of his herd last winter, and he isn’t hopeful of them surviving this one.”

  “We’ll just have to pray that doesn’t happen. Otherwise, the people of Reunion will surely go bankrupt. The interesting thing is that it’s the large ranches that have suffered most. Small ranchers barely felt the harsh effects of the last winter. Maybe it’s because they were able to keep their animals in the barns. Thirty to fifty animals can be secured in a large barn or corral, even though it’s a tight fit. Now, imagine a man with over one hundred animals, where will he put all of them to protect them against adverse weather conditions, not to mention predators that take advantage of the winter to attack ranches?”

  “That reminds me, I need to build a larger barn.”

  “Not necessarily, Joram. What you can do is extend the one you already have. Expand it on all sides so that it will be stable. You have neighbors to help with that, and if you want, I could ask some of them to come and help. What you’ll need is timber and roofing sheets.”

  Joram shook his head, his long blond hair spilling forward onto his face. He badly needed a haircut but barely had the time to do anything other than take care of his farm. He was really troubled. “I didn’t think this venture through before I embarked on it, and I sank a lot of money into it. Now it seems like it will completely drain me unless a miracle occurs.”

  Martin laughed softly. “No one is perfect, and you did what you thought was best at the time.” He scratched his gray and black beard, his dark eyes taking in all that was around him. “I think if you want to be even more successful, you’re going to need help. One man can’t do all that you’re doing alone.”

  “Problem is that I simply can’t afford to hire people on permanent basis, and the temporary hires are very unreliable. They will only come in when they wish, and if they get a better offer, they’re off again without a backward glance.”

  Martin sighed and got back onto his horse. “You need to have faith that you’ll make it. I’ll be by later to bring the dogs I promised. Have you thought about finding yourself a little lady to take care of things at home while you take care of the fields? That’s also another way of having help on this farm.”

  ***

  Joram was happy when Martin dropped off the two collies. They looked gentle enough but their bark was fierce. “These should keep away those marauders until you get a permanent solution. Feed them only once a day and keep them locked up during the day when you’re around.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you for your help, Sheriff.”

  “In a small community like ours, we need to be our brothers’ keepers and look out for each other. Otherwise we won’t survive in this harsh new territory that we’re just beginning to conquer. When you’re ready with the building materials, let me know and I’ll round up those who
can help with putting up the barn. The problem is that you’ll have to find someone to prepare meals for the two days that the people will be working. I could ask my sister Maggie to help.”

  “That would be very kind of you.”

  “Still, you need to seriously think about a permanent solution to your being alone. A good wife will help around the homestead, especially since you have milk and butter to produce. Something else that can bring you good money in a short time is chicken. Poultry farming will push you ahead, and soon the farm will be able to sustain itself and you can then hire more men on a permanent basis.”

  After the sheriff had left, Joram prepared himself a quick meal and then sat down in front of his fireplace to partake of it. Martin Clay may be a nosy man, but he was usually right most of the time. Living alone in a three-bedroom house wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, especially during the cold seasons. He had been thinking about finding a wife, but usually pushed the thought to the back of his mind because he was very busy.

  But evenings were lonely, and he found himself wanting to share the day’s events with someone but not having anyone to do so. If he had a wife, she would prepare him a hot meal and then sit with him as they ate and discussed the day’s happenings. He would tell her how frustrated he was feeling at the way he seemed to be working so hard on his new venture but worrying that it would fail.

  The dogs began barking and Joram took his rifle and stepped out of the house. His dinner could wait. Right now, something was causing his animals to be disturbed. Martin had told him that the dogs were named Arrow and Spear. When they were delivered, he’d quickly built a crude kennel for them and as he approached them, they growled at him.

  “I’m your master, temporarily at least,” he said. “You need to keep us safe, and I like the way your barking is very fierce.” Martin had warned him not to pet them or they would soon stop being herding animals and become pets instead. He took their leashes in one hand. “Let’s just do a once over patrol and see what is happening.”