The First Bride

  The First Bride

  Hearts and Hands 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

  Chapter 9

  35 Sweet Western Brides – Preview

  More Books by Indiana Wake

  Directory of Box Sets

  About the Author

  ©Copyright 2018 Indiana Wake

  Introduction

  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.

  Blessings.

  To find out about new releases and for occasional free content join my newsletter

  1

  1867

  “Gareth.”

  Gareth looked up, stabbing himself in the finger with the needle. He winced and sucked the sore digit, peering through the floating dust to see a huge man looming in the doorway of the corn shed.

  “Would you mind knocking before you talk to me, Pa?” His voice was muffled by the finger in his mouth. “I don’t like being surprised.”

  “I knocked three times.” Paul Stanier moved into the shed. “I would’ve thought you’d hear it.”

  “I heard nothing.” Gareth waved at the dust hovering around his head. “This dust seems to be clogging up my ears.”

  “Why don’t you work out in the yard? Everyone else is.”

  “It’s cooler in here.” Even if the dust was making his eyes water. “And I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to get on with my work.”

  Paul arched an eyebrow.

  “You never want to talk. You always want to be on your own.”

  “Is that so much of a problem?”

  “Well, it’s not going to work right now. We do need to talk, Gareth.”

  Gareth recognized that tone in his father’s voice. That meant this was going to be a big conversation, one that would be a turning point. Gareth hadn’t had one of those in a while; he thought he had got away with it. Whenever he or his brother or sister had one of those talks with their pa, the others scarpered.

  Paul Stanier meant well but, for some reason, these talks came with a sense of dread, like he was expecting them to walk into the fires of hell with a smile on their face.

  And when Paul was angry, you could tell he was angry. Gareth sighed and lowered his sewing.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to get a scolding again?”

  “Nothing like that.” Paul sat down on a pile of sacking opposite him, wafting the dust away from his face. “But it is important.”

  “What’s more important than moving across the country in a couple of months?”

  “You know there are more important things than our impending move.”

  Gareth did know. From Paul’s point of view, he thought some things were placed higher in priority than moving from the East Coast to the West Coast and to the Wild West in fact! To Gareth, you couldn’t get bigger than that. They were upheaving all the family and going to a new mission station in San Francisco. It was going to be a long arduous journey and they would have a young child with them. Nothing about it was going to be easy.

  But Paul was certain that God would guide the way. Gareth kept silent on that, hoping that God knew how to read a map.

  Then Gareth got a feeling that he knew what his pa wanted to talk about, he groaned.

  “Oh, Pa, not again. I don’t want to talk about this.” They only used ”Pa” when they were angry, for Paul preferred to be Paul.

  “You need a wife, Gareth.”

  Gareth bared his teeth and growled.

  “No, I don’t. Not at all. It’s not a requirement.”

  Paul sighed. He sounded like he was trying to reason with a child.

  “You’re thirty, Gareth. If you want to marry and settle down, that’s not going to happen when we settle in San Francisco.”

  Gareth didn’t know about that but he wasn’t going to San Francisco to find out. He was going there following his family and doing God’s work. As far as Gareth knew, God wasn’t interested in finding a wife for him... and if He didn’t find it a concern, neither did Gareth. But Paul did and that was simply annoying.

  Getting to his feet he paced the cloudy shed, which resulted in breathing in a lot of dust and him coughing.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so insistent about me finding a wife,” Gareth managed to say once he got his breath back. “You have a granddaughter already and my sister-in-law is pregnant again. The line is carrying on.”

  Paul snorted. He didn’t look happy about his eldest son ignoring his request. Gareth wasn’t one to jump when ordered to. He didn’t do things whenever his father snapped his fingers. Paul was not God. That wasn’t how things worked in Gareth’s mind.

  “Have you seen the look on your face lately, Gareth?” Paul demanded.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You keep looking at Ben and Carolyn with a wistful look on your face that turns into a look of disgust. Then you give them a wide berth, especially since you heard that Carolyn was pregnant again. She’s beginning to think you’ve got a problem with her.”

  Gareth sighed.

  “I have nothing against, Carolyn. She’s a lovely girl and Ben chose well with her.” Gareth tugged his hands through his hair, which was already sticking up on his head. “I just don’t think having such public displays of affection like they do should be allowed. It’s just… embarrassing.”

  It did make Gareth uncomfortable seeing how gooey-eyed his brother was as he kissed and cuddled his wife. Giving her looks filled with genuine love and affection. The two of them were barely apart and when they were close, they kept touching each other’s arm or hand. Or he would brush a lock of hair away. When they thought no one could see there was a lot of kissing as well. Gareth didn’t like seeing this and he hated to admit that it made him envious.

  Envy wasn’t a good emotion. That was something to keep away from.

  Paul shook his head.

  “Saying that means you have a problem and you need a wife of your own.”

  “It does not!” Gareth snapped. “I just think they’re over the top. They’re supposed to be spreading God’s word, not each other.”

  Paul flinched.

  “Don’t talk like that, Gareth. That’s not something I want to hear. And you do need to get yourself a wife sooner or later.”

  Gareth heard the undertone. The unsaid prefer
ably sooner. He growled and swung around on his pa.

  “A few months ago, you were happy with me being single. You were perfectly fine with me being alone. What’s changed all that?” He narrowed his eyes at Paul. “Is this something to do with Maisie?”

  Even in the dim lighting and the dust, Gareth could see his pa’s jaw tighten, a shadow passed across his eyes.

  Maisie had died three months before and everyone was still suffering from it. There had been nothing they could have done but Gareth’s parents felt as though they were being punished by God.

  “We lost Maisie and we’re being punished for it,” Paul said solemnly.

  “You’re not being punished. She died of consumption. That was nobody’s fault... and it has nothing to do with me being single.”

  “This has nothing to do with Maisie. Your mother and I have just decided that you should marry.”

  “For no apparent reason.” Gareth grunted. He kicked at a grain bag causing more dust to float up. “Thanks a lot, Pa. No pressure, then.”

  Paul grunted and stood, flicking dust off his shoulder.

  “You’ll understand what I mean once we get to San Francisco,” he said solemnly. “Trust me on that, Gareth.”

  Gareth glared at his father’s back as the older man left. He couldn’t always understand the man’s motives when he was younger; he thought he had grown into that understanding but didn’t understand it now. It was just irritating. Gareth had been spurned once when he had been so close to marriage, and he had no intention of going through that again. Women could be so fickle.

  But he had a feeling that Paul wasn’t going to let this go. The old minister was persistent. If Gareth kept pushing back and telling him to leave it be, Paul would end up springing a woman on him and say she was to be his wife. He would find a way for Gareth to get married without Gareth’s consent and then reveal everything.

  Gareth wouldn’t put it past his pa, or even his mother, to do that to him. And that wasn’t how he wanted to end up married, if he ever decided to get married.

  Now it was beginning to look like he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

  “Interesting conversation.”

  Gareth jumped at the sudden deep voice behind him. He spun around and saw a slim, dark-haired man come in through the back door, pushing his Stetson off his head and blinking in the dim light.

  “Steven?” Gareth could barely see through the dust. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

  “That was the point.” Steven Baltrusch grunted. He grabbed Gareth’s arm and tugged him to the door. “Let’s get into the fresh air. At least we’ll be able to breathe.”

  Gareth wasn’t sure about that. Whenever he was outside, he just couldn’t stop sneezing. It drove everyone mad, never mind him. But he allowed Steven to take him into the backyard, in the shade of the shed and away from everyone else. Steven leaned against the back wall, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Was Paul giving you the ‘you need to get married right now’ speech?” he asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  Gareth’s brother-in-law grunted and scowled.

  “He did the same to Ben and Maisie as well. Maisie told me about it.”

  “I’ve managed to dodge it so far.”

  “You’re not going to dodge it now, trust me.”

  “I figured that.” Gareth took off his hat and whacked it against his thigh, dust flew up into the air. He sneezed again. “Ma and Pa are pushing all of us to have a family of our own. It’s annoying. I remember Carolyn had not long given birth and Ma couldn’t wait for the next one, even though she was barely walking.”

  “Maisie and I... well, it just never happened.” A shadow passed over Steven’s face. “You’re the last child left who hasn’t given them a grandchild. Specifically, a grandson.”

  Gareth made a face. He wasn’t keen on children. When they were other people’s children, he was fine with them. Carly, his niece, was a sweet little girl. But if he was asked to look after a child, Gareth hated it. At least with other people’s children, he could give them back.

  Not with his own.

  “I need to think of something, Steven.” Gareth kicked at the wall, biting back a wince as he stubbed his toe. “If I’m going to be forced into marriage, I’d prefer to have someone I chose instead of someone my parents chose and be completely miserable for the rest of my life.”

  “As opposed to partially miserable if it’s your own choice?”

  “Exactly.”

  Gareth didn’t have anything against women. Except he couldn’t talk to them very well. He fumbled over his words, went bright red and ran the other way. That hadn’t always been the way but since the one time Gareth got so close to being a married man, since that letdown... he couldn’t even look at a woman other than his mother and sister-in-law and sister. Paul knew this.

  Steven tilted his head to the side, regarding his brother-in-law thoughtfully.

  “I’ve got an idea. How about writing off for one?”

  “Writing off for a wife?”

  “Sure. There are newspapers with adverts of men and women looking for husbands and wives. You could find someone there.”

  That was something. Gareth could make his own choice. But even then he hesitated.

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Come on, Gareth, how difficult is it for you to talk to women?”

  “Very.”

  “Well, getting to know someone through letters would work better for you. If you can reel a woman in using just your words, then you should be fine.” Steven shrugged. “Who knows? You might get someone who appreciates you.”

  It did sound like an idea. And Gareth couldn’t think of anything better. He couldn’t go up to a woman to talk to her as he went all tongue-tied. The girls just looked at him and walked off. Maybe this was the best way to do it.

  The only thing Gareth would have to worry about after that was choosing a woman his parents would approve of. Loving people they may have been, but they were incredibly picky.

  This wasn’t going to be easy. However, Gareth couldn’t see another way out of his problem. He would have to bite the bullet and find a wife for himself.

  2

  Mary Burton came back into the house with the day’s post in her hand. She didn’t need to look at most of them. They would be bills that her father needed to pay. Unfortunately, he had been deflecting them for years now. The chances were they wouldn’t have any money to pay the bills and at times she didn’t know what to do. Whatever little she earned or they acquired, Andrew used it to buy liquor, which downed within a couple of hours.

  If they weren’t careful, the two of them were going to be out on the streets soon. Only hope kept her going for she believed that if she kept trying that something would come up. At times it was hard to keep believing for no one would take them in. Her pa was a violent drunk and didn’t have any friends and Mary knew if she went to someone’s house, that he would force his way in and then both of them would be kicked out. Burton saw himself above his daughter and expected that he got looked after first. Mary had got used to it... sometimes, it still stung.

  Quickly flicking through the letters, Mary caught sight of a simple plain white envelope with her name scrawled on the front. She couldn’t help but smile as warmth and hope filled her. Maybe her dreams would come true. It was another letter from Gareth. They were the highlight of her week. Things always felt a lot better after she had written to Gareth or received something from him.

  It was startling to believe that she had been writing to a man in the same town for two months and yet they had never met. If she hadn’t been brave enough to use the last of her money to put her advert for a husband in the paper, this would never have happened.

  Gareth had picked on her advert within a week of her submitting it. His letters were a little awkward but there was a certain sweetness about him that Mary couldn’t walk away from. He was clearly shy but his confidence was growing. Their
conversations had been stilted at first, but now Gareth was writing better, opening up a lot more. Mary hadn’t realized that she could have a meaningful relationship with someone she had never met... through their letters. Now she had learned the comfort it could bring and she waited eagerly for each one and maybe... maybe it would go further soon.

  This could be her big break. Gareth would be proposing to her soon, Mary was sure of it. In his last letter he said he wanted to be a suitor for her heart and hand. It told her that he was looking for love and marriage and it gave her hope. Once he proposed she would be able to get out of this house, away from her father, and start her own life. Gareth was heading to San Francisco. Being a missionary, he needed to spread God’s word. Mary could only hope he proposed before he left or she was stuck.

  She would rather be in a loveless marriage than living with someone who would happily throw his daughter onto the fire, simply to keep himself warm. But she hoped it would be more than that, she hoped love would develop.

  Mary was still smiling as she went into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, his full plate of food still there, untouched, as he read the paper. He would be complaining that the food was cold soon and if Mary pointed out that he chose to read before he ate, she would get a beating. Her pa had been getting worse in the last year. Mary didn’t know if she could cope for much longer.

  She missed her mother.

  She laid the bills by her father’s plate and sat in her place, opening her letter from Gareth and starting to read.

  Burton’s voice jerked her out of her thoughts.

  “Another letter? You must be very popular.” He sneered over his paper.

  “What’s wrong with getting letters from someone, Father?”