The Second Chance Bride Read online

  The Second Chance Bride

  A Love to Last a Lifetime

  Indiana Wake

  Fair Havens Books

  Contents

  A Love to Last a Lifetime

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Christmas Hope and Redemption Preview

  More Books by Indiana Wake

  About the Author

  A Love to Last a Lifetime

  Who doesn’t want a love to last a lifetime?

  My name is Indiana Wake and I write sweet and inspiration historical western romance. When I say inspirational I like my books to contain a message of hope over adversity.

  I am a number one bestselling author in many categories and have been inspired by the courage of the ladies who went west during the perilous 1800’s.

  You, my readers have also inspired me with your many comments and kind words and you told me you would like some longer books. This book is a 50,000 word long novel and I hope you will enjoy it.

  Grace is a young woman who traveled west on the Oregon Trail with her husband. Tragedy struck and she is left all alone.

  Her first thought is to wait out the winter and earn enough money to return to the east, but what is left there for her?

  Read on to find out if Grace can find a new life and heal her broken heart.

  I hope you enjoy this book.

  God bless,

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

  Chapter 1

  “Grace, I don’t know how you’re still standing.” Laura Price, one hand still on the harness as she drew the oxen along, gripped Grace Salter’s hand briefly. “But you just keep going, do you hear? You just keep putting one foot in front of the other. We’ll be there in less than two weeks, so they reckon, and then you can let go. Then you can give in a little.”

  “You’ve been so kind to me, Laura. And your ma and pa too. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for them agreeing to help me along.” Grace heard her own voice and wondered why it didn’t sound like her own.

  Nothing felt real anymore! She had spent the last days wondering when she was going to awaken from the horrible nightmare she was trapped in.

  “There’s nothing to thank me for. All I’m doing is holding this here harness. I reckon the oxen would just go right on pulling this wagon whether I was here or not. They just follow the ones in front.” Laura gave a self-deprecating shrug.

  Grace nodded and a small smile crossed her face in thanks. Yet, she could hardly believe that she really was still putting one foot in front of the other. She had never imagined Peter being taken from her so suddenly. After all, what woman of just twenty thinks of such things?

  But if she had thought about it before, Grace knew that she would never have imagined that she could keep going after such a thing. She could never have imagined anything other than her own body collapsing, ceasing to function so that she could join her beloved husband in the Great Beyond.

  And, as she walked along, the sky grey and the threat of rain casting its shadow once again, Grace thought that would surely have been the kindest thing. For Mother Nature to simply let her fade away with grief until she no longer had a need to keep going in this world alone.

  To have been spared the dreadful bout of cholera that had gripped Peter so quickly... that had spirited him away from this life within a week, seemed somehow cruel, unfair even.

  In the days since Peter had left her, Grace had felt herself turn to anger more than once. The anger was somehow energizing and so much less debilitating than the fear and outright grief. But how could she keep blaming Peter? How could she be angry with him for something that had been out of his control?

  He would never have chosen to leave her alone, never. Peter Salter had loved her since they were both just sixteen, and she had loved him for just as long.

  Grace’s loss came upon her again so suddenly that she bent forward, almost doubled over, as the first chest-tearing sob broke out of her like a caged animal suddenly set free.

  “Oh, honey,” Laura said, her own voice wavering with emotion. “Let’s just stop for a few minutes.”

  Laura drew the plodding oxen to a standstill and let go of the harness to lay a steadying hand on Grace’s back.

  Grace was still bent double, her hands on her own waist, as she tried to suck in some much-needed air. When she finally managed to fill her lungs, it was only to empty them again immediately as yet another loud wail of pain flew out of her.

  It was a dreadful feeling and the sobs were no more in her control than Peter’s life had been. Each sob followed the last with a desperate intensity.

  The wagon train had been fanned out for the last few days and it was a relief to be out of the single file line they had been in when Peter had died.

  A minister had performed the briefest of services as some of the men, their identities unknown and their faces nothing more than a blur to the shocked and grief-stricken young woman, buried Peter as he did so.

  The whole thing had taken no more than a few minutes and the men, adept at digging a grave at the side of the trail, had clearly performed the task more than once as the mighty wagon train made its way from east to west.

  But the train had to keep moving and, throughout the entire service, Grace had the awful and inappropriate feeling of holding everybody up. Her world was ending and yet she couldn’t escape the sense of urgency, of hurry... of being a burden.

  She had to hurry to bury and leave behind the only man she had ever loved, the man she should have spent the rest of her life with.

  “There now, you let it all out, Grace.” Feeling Laura’s hand on her back brought Grace back to the present.

  They might not be in single file, but they would still need to get moving soon and keep up with the rest. Grace had a sense, as she had done from the moment they had left Missouri, that the very center of the wagon train was the best place to be.

  It had felt like a safe place to her, even before Peter had fallen ill. And she didn’t want to end up at the back of the train now either. It seemed even more important to stay in the center now that she was alone in the world.

  Even with Laura at her side, still Grace felt alone.

  “I’m all right, Laura.” Grace straightened up, immediately catching the eye of a middle-aged woman whose wagon was slowly passing alongside her own.

  She had never seen the woman before and, given the hundreds and hundreds of souls crossing the Oregon Trail that year, that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

  But it was clear from the woman’s expression that she understood what had happened to Grace as she wailed out her pain, her loss so raw and shocking. The woman looked sad and, as if by instinct, looked across to where her own husband was leading their oxen.

  It was as if she wanted to check he was still there, not lost to her the way the poor grief-stricken young woman’s must be.

  She turned back again, her eyes shining, and she smiled sadly at Grace before moving on again.

  Grace, despite knowing she should be grateful for the silent kindness, felt as if she could not escape the reality of her loss for a moment.

  “I can carry on,” Grace said as she rubbed hard a
t the raw skin around her eyes. “I just needed to have that moment. But I’m all right. We’d better get moving again.”

  “There’s no real need for us to rush along, Grace. Look, my ma and pa are still a way back, see?” Laura pointed back along the trail to where Jed and Mary Price were leading their own wagon along.

  “I just want to keep to the middle,” Grace said and wondered why on earth it still mattered.

  “Come on then.” Laura smiled kindly. “Do you want to lead them for a while? It will give you something to focus on?”

  “Please. It might just keep my mind occupied for a while.” Grace was grateful to Laura and wondered how she would have managed without her.

  The two of them had struck up a friendship way back in the camp at Independence, Missouri. Ever since then the two families had stayed within yards of one another along the whole trail. As week followed week, their friendship had grown, and Peter had seemed pleased for it.

  Her one fear in leaving their old life back east was that she wouldn’t know anybody. Despite the fact she had only her sister left now that their ma had gone, still she had worried about their new life and if it would be lonely.

  She could hardly believe now that something so silly had been her only fear.

  If only she had feared a catastrophe, a loss of such magnitude it could hardly be comprehended, then she might never have agreed to leave their old home in the first place. And Peter would still be alive.

  But finding Laura Price so early on had wiped all her little misgivings away. Laura was, at nineteen, just one year younger than Grace. But Laura hadn’t yet found a man she wanted to marry, so when her pa had decided to take her ma to a new life in Oregon, Laura had eagerly agreed to go with them.

  As Grace took the harness and started to lead the oxen onward, she felt just a little better. The grief had burst out for a while and it would be enough to cope with the task of moving. She knew, of course, that it was only the very edge of the grief; the seething mass of it was still inside and would, no doubt, be making itself known time and time again.

  But until then, Grace would keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  The following day was cold but bright and Grace was relieved by the idea that it might not rain for a while. At times, she could hardly believe that they had set off from Missouri in such fine weather, but that had been months ago now and the season was becoming decidedly wintery.

  The guides had assured the weary travelers that they would make it through to Willamette before the worst of the weather took hold. They had made good time and would land early in Oregon.

  But Grace knew, as they all did, that there was still a trial ahead of them. There was a single-track pass to make in the mud; the strain of pushing the wagon and pulling at the oxen was a thought most of the exhausted party couldn’t even contemplate.

  But Grace relished the challenge. The harder the better as far as she was concerned. She wanted the physical hardship to be back upon her so that she could focus on survival and nothing more. She needed it, she knew she did.

  “I reckon we’ll be heading into the real hard work again soon,” Laura said as the two women walked along in companionable silence. “Another mud-filled climb.” She shuddered.

  “We’ll get through it,” Grace said quietly. “One way or another.”

  “We sure will.” Laura smiled at her, her pretty blue eyes hiding the trepidation. “And then we’ll finally be there. Just a few days and this hateful journey will be at an end.”

  “I guess,” Grace said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset you.” Laura’s voice was full of concern.

  “No, of course not. You never do anything but help me, Laura. I really am fine.” Grace knew she didn’t sound convincing.

  “I should have thought about what I was saying.” Laura was determined to apologize. “I should have realized that the journey doesn’t really end there for you.”

  “Maybe not. But at least the traveling will be over. At least I can take stock of everything and think straight enough to make a plan.”

  “Do you know what you’ll do? I mean, have you thought about what you might do first?” Laura spoke with caution.

  “First of all, I will need to sell this lot.” Grace tipped her head to indicate the wagon.

  “All of it?” Laura sounded a little surprised.

  “The farming equipment and the oxen will do me no good now. I have no idea how to use any of it and I couldn’t think of trying to set up a farm on my own. I’d never make enough to be able to buy the land at the end of the fourteen months as Peter had planned to. He was the farmer, not me.”

  Peter had known by heart all the provisions of land claims before they had even set off. He had a clear plan in which he was certain he could claim several hundred acres and farm it efficiently enough to have earned the money to buy the land after fourteen months residence, as was the system.

  It was going to be hard work, and Grace had fully intended to be at his side throughout; helping him build a house, learning the skills required on a farm. But who was there to teach her now? She would never manage the heavy farming tools alone and even if she could, she had no idea how to use them.

  “I have only ever known how to teach,” Grace went on sadly. “I have only ever worked in a schoolroom with the little ones, showing them how to read, write, and count. Now’s not the time for me to be learning how to farm. Peter could have taught me, and I would have worked as hard as I could, but I have no idea how to do this. I know I have no skill for it, even if I was once so sure I could have learned it. But there’s nobody to teach me now and I have to find another way to survive.” She paused. “Until next year, at least.”

  “Next year?” Laura coaxed gently.

  “Yes. All I need to do is survive until next year. I’ll head on back east with the guides in spring when they go back for the next lot of folks coming from Missouri.”

  “You’re going to go home?” Laura said and the regret in her voice was clear. “I don’t blame you at all. After all, your sister is there.”

  “She sure is,” Grace said without enthusiasm.

  Grace’s sister was a good deal older than she was. She was already married with children of her own before Grace was out of the schoolroom herself. The two had never been close, although they had never been enemies either. And Grace knew her sister would help her no matter what.

  Still, the idea of going back east to live with her sister’s family hardly filled her with pleasure. But then, nothing did anymore, and it was likely that she would never be happy again. In the end, what did it matter?

  “You won’t have any trouble selling the oxen, and your wagon is in good condition considering all it’s been through.” Laura had adopted a practical tone to hide the fact that she was already mourning the loss of the woman she thought would be a friend for life.

  “I’ll sell it all as soon as we arrive. Everything but my clothes and a couple of books Peter let me put on the wagon.” She smiled sadly as she thought of all the little household things she’d put on the wagon only for Peter to smile at her and tell her they needed space for the important things, the equipment and food for the journey.

  “I’m so sorry,” Laura said so genuinely that Grace felt her own emotion swirling in her chest once more.

  “And then I’ll find a boarding house somewhere and set about finding myself some work to keep me going.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “Teaching is all I know. I’m sure there must be a need for a teacher somewhere. There must be a schoolroom or two for me to work in,” Grace said with more certainty than she felt. “But I guess time will tell.”

  “No sense in worrying about it before you even get there. Just one day at a time.” Laura nodded reassuringly.

  “Yes, just one day at a time,” Grace replied as she kept her eyes down on the rocky path.

  Chapter 2

  Connie Langdon’s boarding house was not t
he cheapest of the ones Grace had been directed to, rather it was somewhere in the middle. But it was small, neat, and clean, and there was something about Connie which seemed to settle Grace’s nerves a little.

  Connie was somewhere in her early sixties, a rotund woman whose fair hair was finally giving in and fading into grey. She wore a pleasant smile and had kind eyes. There was something motherly about the woman which drew Grace somewhat, certainly enough to stop her looking anywhere else after she had met her.

  “I know it’s small here, honey, but it’s room enough for one.” Connie showed Grace into the little room that was to be her home, for now at least.

  “It’s very nice, Mrs. Langdon,” Grace said timidly. “It’s a real pretty room.”

  And the truth was it really was a pretty room. There was not much by way of furniture, but as Connie had said, it was certainly enough for one. But when Grace eyed the small wooden bed, the mattress only wide enough for one person, she felt a lump appear suddenly in her throat.

  Everything seemed tight and painful and she could hardly swallow as she looked down at the little bed and felt the stark, painful reminder of her recent widowhood.

  But she had to live somewhere, she had to rest her head at some point, and she had a feeling that this would be the best place for her to do just that.

  “You’ll get used to things in time,” Connie said, clearly perceiving Grace’s upset. “It sounds like you have been through an awful lot.”

  “Yes,” was all Grace could say through a tight, painful throat.