Cowboys & Their Shy Women: A Pair of Mail Order Bride Romances

By Beth Overton

Mail Order Bride: The Shy Seamstress From Philadelphia & The Awkward Cowboy In Utah - A very shy woman from Philadelphia takes the plunge and becomes the mail order bride of a socially awkward cowboy in Utah. They have to deal with the curious townspeople and an angry father who thought his daughter would be the cowboy’s bride.

Mail Order Bride: The Shy Woman From Boston & The Country Cowboy & Doctor In Arizona - A woman leaves Boston to become the mail order bride of a cowboy rancher, doctor, and horse farm owner in Arizona. She’s expected to take charge immediately, but barely knows which end of a horse is which. At first sight of the doctor’s prize black stallion, she realizes that she most definitely has taken on far more than she can handle. However, the doctor is away tending to a family that needs his help desperately and she is the only one who can, perhaps, get the fiery horse to where they need him to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beth Overton
• Release date: Feb 6, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311050335

Beth Overton

Beth Overton lives in Northern California with her husband and three cats. Besides writing romances, she loves to read everything she can get her hands on, as well as cooking up gourmet delights for her entire family.

Book preview

Cowboys & Their Shy Women: A Pair of Mail Order Bride Romances

By

Beth Overton

Copyright 2016 Quietly Blessed & Loved Press

Mail Order Bride: The Shy Seamstress From Philadelphia & The Awkward Cowboy In Utah

Mail Order Bride: The Shy Woman From Boston & The Country Cowboy & Doctor In Arizona

Mail Order Bride: The Shy Seamstress From Philadelphia & The Awkward Cowboy In Utah

Synopsis: Mail Order Bride: The Shy Seamstress From Philadelphia & The Awkward Cowboy In Utah - A very shy woman from Philadelphia takes the plunge and becomes the mail order bride of a socially awkward cowboy in Utah. They have to deal with the curious townspeople and an angry father who thought his daughter would be the cowboy’s bride.

The people of Fillmore, Utah were dressed all in black. Thomas Carmichael, the owner of the most popular saloon in town and a friend to everyone, had died. His friends marched slowly from the church to the cemetery to mourn his loss. One man among the pallbearers looked particularly upset about the death of Mr. Carmichael. This man was named John Napier and he had been one of Carmichael’s closest friends, if such men could be said to have close friends.

The two of them had been regular card players at the same table for over a decade and they often shared a glass of whiskey and a cigar on the front step of Carmichael’s saloon. While the recently deceased man had made his fortune by plying the locals with good drink and mediocre entertainment, John Napier had made a name for himself as a cowboy. Though they took different paths in life, the results had been surprisingly similar for them.

Each man owned a plot of land just outside Fillmore and each had placed a large house on his property. Napier raised horses and Carmichael raised hunting spaniels. They each could claim to have good credit in the town of Fillmore and in the Utah Territory at large, though they might also have had a few gambling debts to settle come Friday night.

Neither man had married and neither had any children. This had come to be a problem when Carmichael died, as no one could figure out just who would inherit his property. Among his papers they found letters from his mother, but they were dated from the 1870’s, which was two decades gone by the time Thomas Carmichael’s heart stopped beating.

The confusion about who inherited the man’s property was left unsettled for a long time and eventually the city seized his funds, paying off Carmichael’s debts to those who could prove a claim, but it was not this monetary trifle that bothered John Napier as he carried his friend’s casket to the graveyard.

Napier was more struck by the mourners that turned out for his friend’s final moments above ground. It was true that most of the town had showed up to pay their respects, but there was no one there with love in their eyes.

There couldn’t possibly be anyone here who truly loved Thomas Carmichael, because he hadn’t been a man who let others get to know him. So, on the day of his funeral, there were no wet eyes, only red noses, for the men had all had a nip of good whiskey before marching in the cold April morning.

No women wept for Thomas Carmichael, expect maybe those who would have loved to be his rich widow and no children attended at all. Tomorrow, John Napier thought, everyone would put away their mourning clothes and go back about their business. As the weeks and months passed, someone would occasionally remember Thomas Carmichael with a toast and then, even that shallow remembrance would fade. One day, Thomas’s name would just be another few scratches on a gray tombstone.

This is what most troubled John Napier and the fact that it did surprised him most of all. He had been content to focus all his energy on making money and living a solitary life with his horses. It was only now, as his arm grew weary of carrying the casket, that he spared a thought for the wife and children he never had.

The funeral party entered the cemetery where a grave had been dug during the night. They lowered the casket into the earth and the priest began to read from the Bible. John didn’t hear a word the old man said. His thoughts were far away from the funeral and far from the topic of death in general. His thoughts focused and clarified around a new life. A new life for him and a literal new life for a boy or girl who would call him father. He didn’t want to die alone like Thomas Carmichael. John Napier wanted to live surrounded by a family.

The patter of dirt hitting the wooden casket broke him from these thoughts.

Amen, he muttered quietly.

From beneath the wide brim of his hat he looked at the women in the crowd. The whole town was there, after all. He was almost surprised by the fact that he could name almost everyone here. He had lived in Fillmore for nearly a decade and the population of the town had declined sharply after the territorial capital had been moved to Salt Lake City.

Some of the women in town were quite beautiful, but John had a hard time imagining himself courting any of them. The town was simply too small and gossip spread too fast. It would seem very odd to everyone when he changed his manners around the women from polite to something more than politeness.

He would have to try. John looked down at the casket, which was mostly obscured by dirt now and said a final goodbye. He said one to himself as well.

A week after Thomas Carmichael’s funeral, the weather turned warmer and the trees budded, making the air smell sweet. John Napier left his ranch early in the morning, riding upon his favorite horse. The animal’s name was Max. It was a coal black Colorado Ranger, stood sixteen hands tall and was the gentlest horse John had ever owned. They made quite a sight riding into Fillmore, as John still wore mostly black as a sign of mourning for his friend.

He was the only person in town who seemed to remember Carmichael and this troubled John greatly.

Carmichael’s saloon was open again. It had been purchased by Joseph Schaffer, a local entrepreneur. However, it wasn’t to the saloon John Napier led his horse, but to the house of Mr. Earl Timmons. Fillmore was laid out in a grid pattern with the residential areas along the outside and the commercial and ecclesiastical buildings in the center.

The Timmons residence