A Bride for Christmas
A Bride for Christmas
Hands and Hearts Mail Order Bride Agency
Indiana Wake
Belle Fiffer
Fair Havens Books
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Preview 31 Sweet Christmas Brides
Also by Indiana Wake
About the Author
Introduction
A Bride for Christmas
Hearts and Hands Mail Order Bride Agency
The tradition of mail order bride’s dates back to 1620 but most of us are more familiar with the 1800s.
The first mail order bride adverts appeared following the gold rush. Men went West and became prosperous but without the possibility of family they soon became morose. They drank too much and so the first matrimonial adverts began.
At first men write to their churches, in the hope of finding moral ladies who would take on such an adventure and travel West to become their wives.
Often the men would offer their hand in marriage in return for the lady coming West. Offers of petticoats, shoes, and caps were also made.
In time women began to place their own adverts hoping to attract a prosperous man.
That is where the idea of this series began. Each of the books is a complete tail and they can be read in any order.
In the first book a young woman is offered a man’s Heart and Hand and from this an idea emerges in her mind.
Just like the brave pioneers she begins a new life and a hope to bring order and civilisation to a land that needed love and family to make it complete
I hope you will enjoy these books as much as we have writing them.
If you missed book 1: The First Bride grab it now.
Blessings.
Each of these books can be read alone but if you wish to read them all find them here:
The First Bride
The Bride who Stole his Heart
A Bride for the Faithful Groom
The Pregnant Brides Trouble
The Bride who Ran Away
Chapter One
The sun was up but it was real chilly as Harriet left the station with the women she had met on the train from Philadelphia. She hunkered down in her coat as they headed toward the mission station. The wind was not as bitterly cold as back on the east coast, but Harriet could feel herself shivering. Clutching her bags to her, she hurried on with the friends she had made on the long journey west.
The door to the mission station was open, as they had been told it would be. The door was open to everyone.
Two burly men, who clearly looked like brothers, greeted them, causing a couple of the girls to giggle and blush. Harriet hung around at the back as they were led through the building and into a dining room. An older woman with similar colorings to the two men drifted toward them with a big smile. Her voice was kind and welcoming as she checked on everyone and fetched them refreshments. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this welcome, this wanted.
For the last few years she had been nothing more than a live-in nanny for her family. It felt like she wasn’t really wanted at home. For not the first time she let herself believe that this was the best thing she could have done. Even if she couldn’t find a husband because of her appearance, Harriet knew she could build herself a new life where she wouldn’t be treated just as a maid. She could be her own person.
From behind her came the sound of giggling, and Harriet turned to see a little red-haired girl of about seven come running into the room. A delighted smile lit up her face as she trailed bright red tinsel behind her. Following in her wake was a woman in her late twenties with dark hair, her belly was swollen with child.
“Carly, get back here!” she shouted with a laugh in her voice just as she caught up to the girl. With an almighty lift she managed to sweep Carly up, causing herself to stumble.
Harriet was up immediately and caught both of them, lifting the girl out of the woman’s arms.
“Easy there, Carly.” She propped the girl on her hip. “You don’t want to exhaust your mother, now do you?”
Carly giggled and twirled the tinsel in the air.
“But tinsel is fun!” she declared.
Her mother leaned against the wall, her face red from exertion.
Harriet indicated her chair.
“Would you like to sit down?”
“I can manage.” The woman straightened up and squared her shoulders. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Even a pregnant woman is allowed to put her feet up for a moment.” Harriet smiled. “I’m Harriet.”
“Carolyn.” Carolyn shook Harriet’s outstretched hand. “You’re good with Carly. The only other person she stays still for is her uncle Gareth.”
“I’m good with children.” Harriet grimaced and put Carly on the floor. “Although she is getting heavy now.”
“Are you here to see Mary Stanier?”
“Yes.” Harriet indicated her friends, who were in deep conversation. One of the red-haired men and his mother were talking to them, the girls enraptured with the male missionary. It was almost comical. “They seemed to have an idea who they want to marry, already though.”
Carolyn laughed.
“Gareth has that effect on everyone. But Mary’s not one to share her husband with another woman.”
“That’s Mary’s husband?”
“Yep.” Carolyn giggled. “Seeing as everyone else is busy making doe-eyes at my brother-in-law, why don’t you go and see Mary first?”
“All right.” Might as well get it out of the way. Meeting the resident matchmaker was more nerve-wracking then Harriet expected. “Where is she now?”
“She’s just putting her son down for a nap.” Carolyn beckoned Harriet to follow her. “Come with me. She normally does business from the suite by their room.”
Harriet followed Carolyn through the halls.
Carly followed them, slipping her hand into Harriet’s and giving her a beaming smile. That smile warmed Harriet’s heart. Such a sweet girl. She reminded Harriet of her brother’s eldest daughter. That left a sad feeling in her belly; she wouldn’t get to see her nieces and nephews again, wouldn’t get to see them grow up.
Once she had told her family she was leaving to find a husband, they had turned their backs on her. Now they couldn’t control her, they wanted nothing to do with her.
That had hurt more than Harriet expected it to.
Carolyn led Harriet into a small living room, which had another door leading into it and was half-open. She took Carly and indicated for Harriet to sit before leaving. Nerves threatened to overwhelm Harriet. She stood unsure what to do. Taking a breath, she swallowed down her fear and clutched her hands into fists. She was here and husband or not she would have a better life.
Moments later, a petite woman in her mid-twenties with blonde hair loose about her shoulders came through the half-open door, closing it behind her. She gave Harriet a beaming smile and approached her.
“Good morning. You must be Harriet. I recognize you from your picture.” She held out a hand. “I’m Mary Stanier and it is so nice to welcome you.”
“Hello,” Harriet croaked. She cleared her throat and shook Mary’s hand. “How do you do, Mrs. Stanier?”
Mary laughed. She had a nice, clear laugh.
“Please, it’s just Mary. With three Mrs. Staniers in the mission, it gets too complicated. Come and sit down.”
She led Harriet over to the table by the window.
The ease and calm coming off the woman helped Harriet relax.
This was a warm woman who exuded confidence and caring. Harriet had never met anyone like her. Feeling much better already she sat opposite Mary, who grimaced a little before arranging her skirts about her almost like a queen.
“Forgive me for my expressions. I gave birth last month and I’m still a little sore.”
“Congratulations.” Harriet smiled. “Are you hoping for any more?”
Mary laughed.
“Let me get through the early stages with Elijah before I make the decision to have more children.” She picked up the pencil that sat on a sheaf of blank paper in front of her. “I trust your journey here wasn’t too bad.”
Harriet made a face. “We survived.”
“That bad, was it?”
“We actually got robbed twice on the way down. Well, the train did, not us. Our stuff wasn’t taken, but it was scary.”
“Oh, my lord.” Mary made the sign of the cross on her chest. “I’m glad none of you were hurt.”
“Thank you, we’re pretty tough and we got through it.”
Though they had it was a terrifying experience and Harriet didn’t want to go through it again.
“That makes me somewhat grateful that we came cross-country by wagons.” Mary said.
“Somewhat grateful?”
“My husband got bitten by a snake. I had to suck the poison out and then tend to him as he fell ill.”
Harriet’s mouth fell open.
“My God. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. The Lord showed me what to do and he’s alive.”
“My friends have noticed.” Harriet giggled. “They’re fawning over him in the dining room.”
“I’m not surprised. He is a handsome man.” Mary beamed. “And practically the perfect husband and father.”
“So, you’re not nervous about your husband being around all the new women out there?” Harriet hadn’t meant to say that, it just came out but Mary smiled.
“Not at all. Gareth’s an honest man.” Mary scribbled Harriet’s name at the top of the page. “Now, Harriet, I wanted to see each of you girls individually, just so I can get a general idea of what you’ve done in your previous life in Philadelphia. Then we will talk about what you want in terms of a husband, things like that. Would you be good with that?”
“Yes.”
Harriet wasn’t sure, but this needed to be done. Her mother had burst out laughing when she heard Harriet had been writing to a matchmaker. She didn’t believe her eldest daughter would ever find a husband. Harriet hoped her mother, and certainly the rest of her family, weren’t right about her.
“Good.” Mary fished out a letter from another pile at her elbow. “Now, Harriet Calver. Twenty-eight-years-old.”
Harriet groaned.
“I know. You don’t need to say it. I’m old.”
“You’re not old at all, Harriet. You’re still in the right range to find a suitable husband.” Mary raised her eyebrows. “But I am surprised that you’re not married yet. You are a beautiful woman.”
Harriet felt her face going red. She didn’t believe that at all. She tried to bat Mary’s compliment away. The woman had to be lying.
“Don’t be silly. A lump does not look beautiful.”
“Who’s a lump?”
“I am.” Harriet prodded at her big belly. “I’ve always been overweight. And I’ve always had men tell me they prefer women who aren’t fat. It’s the story of my life.”
Mary stared at her like she had grown another head.
“Men who say that to you are mad. The expression for your figure is curvy. You’re not fat at all.”
Harriet snorted and raised a hand in front of her face. She was not making a very good impression here.
“Curvy is the passive-aggressive way of saying I’m fat.”
Mary laughed and shook her head. “No, it’s not but should I write down that your self-esteem was left on the train?” Her smile took the sting out of the words.
“Just don’t say it out loud.”
Mary laughed, and scribbling a neat scrawl as she made out a list.
“At least you have a sense of humor. Now I am telling you that you are a beautiful woman and there are many men here who would give their right arm to be your husband. But, I’m guessing you’re looking for a husband who would love you regardless of what you look like.”
Harriet nodded. That was all she ever wanted. A man to accept her. To look on the inside and see the woman she really was. Men in Philadelphia took one look at her and practically ran away. It wasn’t exactly the best confidence boost in the world.
“Yes, I am.”
“How would you describe yourself?” Mary asked as she wrote. “Would you consider yourself a hard worker?”
“Yes, I would,” Harriet said that without hesitation. “I can cook, clean, mend, and sew. I can do manual labor and I can read and write. And I know how to look after children.”
“You have a lot of nieces and nephews, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’m the eldest of six, and all my brothers and sisters are married. I’m often left to look after the children as I’m the unmarried spinster.” Harriet squared her shoulders as a wave of sadness hit her. That was the only thing she was known for back home; the spinster, often called the fat spinster behind her back and occasionally to her face. “I can do this.”
That sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than Mary, who was watching Harriet thoughtfully.
“Is there a particular thing you want in your husband?” Mary asked. “Physically, that is? And preferably something I can see without asking for clothing to be removed.”
Harriet almost choked on her air at that. Of all the things she had thought were going to come out of Mary’s mouth, that wasn’t on the list.
“Mary!”
“Sorry, I have to be upfront.” Mary grinned. “I may be a missionary and a loyal subject of God, but I’m not a nun. Plus, you’d be surprised what I’ve been asked by potential clients who are looking for husbands. Some of the pages have steam coming off them.”
Harriet giggled.
“I’m sure.” She thought about it. Up until that point, Harriet hadn’t given it much thought. In fact, no thought as she never believed she would be married, let alone have some say in the man she would marry. A feeling of such happiness overcame her and she allowed her mind to dream. “I don’t think I’m too interested in what the man looks like. As long as he loves me for me.” She grinned. “And I would love him to be Irish.”
“Irish?”
“We lived next door to an Irish family back in Philadelphia. They were lovely people and I adored their accents. That’s probably my only preference but... if any man would love me I would be happy.”
“Plenty of men would love you. That’s a good preference and a specific one, at that.” Mary sat back. “Well, there are quite a few Irish families here. You might get lucky, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I trust you on this, Mary.”
That surprised Harriet when she realized she did trust the other woman.
“If you can’t get me a husband, I might as well be resigned to a life of spinsterhood.”
Suddenly that was a frightening prospect. Harriet had never really let herself believe but now she did and she wanted love – as practically everyone else did – and the thought of a loveless marriage scared her. She wanted someone to love her for who she was. If she couldn’t get that, living alone would be the only option.
And now that she had allowed herself to dream, that was just as scary as a loveless marriage.
Mary gave her a gentle smile and sat forward, laying her hand over Harriet’s.
“Don’t give up yet,” she said. “The perfect man is out there waiting for you, we just have to find him.”
Harriet wondered if that could be true or if she was just building herself up for a terrible fall.
Chapter Two
Another thing Mary had organized were lodgings for everyone. There weren’t enough rooms at the boarding house across the street, so Mary had looked around for others to put the girls up. And Harriet was to go to an Irish woman’s house on the outskirts of San Francisco, a short walk from the mines. The woman, an unmarried lady herself, was more than happy to put her up.
Gareth was the one who escorted Harriet to the woman’s house, putting her luggage into the wagon and driving them through the streets. The place was bustling, which fascinated Harriet. Philadelphia was a busy city, constantly on the go. There was something about San Francisco that was similar, but also different. It was busy, but it was quieter than Philadelphia. Harriet felt like she was at home already.
Maybe she could build a life for herself even if she couldn’t find a husband. There was always going to be something to do, and people would know people. She would find something, she would survive. Maybe she could even become a missionary. Devote herself to God.
“Harriet?”
Harriet looked around. She hadn’t realized that she had been off in her own thoughts. They were now on a track outside of San Francisco, heading along a bumpy road that twisted among the hills. Gareth was guiding the horse with the reins, but he was looking at her. Harriet flushed.
“Sorry, Mr.…Gareth.” Addressing people informally wasn’t easy for Harriet. She had always been brought up with manners. “I’m a little tired, that’s all.”