Mail Order Bride: Rescued By An Adventurer: Rescued Western Historical Mail Order Brides, #8

By Kenneth Markson

Mail Order Bride: Rescued By An Adventurer: A Historical Mail Order Bride Western Victorian Romance (Rescued Western Historical Mail Order Brides Book 8) is an action packed clean inspirational western historical romance. Facing a bleak future, pretty young Ann becomes a mail order bride to escape poverty on a farm in Pennsylvania and her drunken stepfather. She heads to Colorado hoping to have a better life with the foreman of a mining company. Then tragedy occurs. Will a handsome adventurer save her from a harsh existence in Denver? Will Ann help those less fortunate then her, and will she find the love she truly deserves? 

If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy Kenneth's Redeemed series or the other books in the Rescued series; "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By A Rascal," "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By A Rogue," "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By A Rake," "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By A Rover," "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By A Romantic," "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By Resolve," and "Mail Order Bride: Rescued By Hope."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth Markson
• Release date: Mar 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9780986252853

Kenneth Markson

While an English major at college, I wrote a column which was published weekly. I have been writing ever since. The old West and Los Angeles in the forties are eras which lend themselves to tales of romance, courage, and fast paced adventure. I particularly enjoy writing stories about the mail order brides who fearlessly took a chance and traveled West, hoping to find love and a better future. Many of the locales that I write about are places that I have either traveled through or actually lived in. I try to make my works richly accurate. My desire is to provide you with an entertaining and fun read. When I'm not writing, I enjoy spending time with my wife and two children.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was an early spring day on a small farm in western Pennsylvania.  Ann Mahern's day had begun at four in the morning, when she got out of bed, dressed, and started a fire in the kitchen stove.  While the stove was getting hot, she swept the floors.  Then, she cooked breakfast for her mother and stepfather.

Ann was a pretty young woman of nineteen, with long blonde hair, honey brown eyes, and a sweet smile.  There was a kindness in her face, which had not yet been soured by years of a harsh life.  She wore an old gray dress, which was her custom during the course of performing her daily work.

She grabbed a pail in her hand, and went outside to milk the family's single cow.  It was barely light at that time in the morning, and there was a coolness in the air that made her think twice about not putting on an extra garment to at least cover her shoulders.  Ann sat down on the ground, and slid the pail underneath the older cow's udder.

How are you this morning, Millie? she asked cheerfully.

The cow gave her a contented look, as she began milking her.  Thank God we at least have sufficient grass and hay to keep Millie happy, she thought to herself.  During these tough times, she gives us nice, rich milk to drink.

You're a good girl, Millie, Ann said, comfortingly patting the cow's head, as she led her out to pasture when the milking was done.

Next, she watered their horse and brought him out with Millie.  Already, the hogs were clamoring for food.  Ann brought a pail of swill to their pen.

Finally, she let out the chickens, and put out feed and water for them.  Then she went inside, and had a solitary breakfast.  By that time, her stepfather had left and was out working in the field.

It was just as well that they hadn't spoken, Ann thought to herself.  The market for wheat had crashed, and the times were very difficult for the local farmers.  Ann's stepfather had become progressively despondent and foul tempered as a result.

Ann reflected for a moment on her father, as she finished off her breakfast with a cup of fresh coffee.  It was four years now, since he had died unexpectedly.  From a distance, she had seen him suddenly clutch his chest, and fall to the ground.

By the time she reached him, he was already gone.  Not a day went by, when she didn't feel his loss.  Despite being a poor man and having gone through many hardships, he had taught her never to give up, and never to lose faith in God's help.

When she was finished, Ann cleaned her dishes and left the farm.  She walked several miles to the center of the small town.  Twice a week, Ann picked up some extra money for the family by working as a seamstress for a dress shop. 

Chapter 2

The moment Ann returned in late afternoon and walked through the front entrance, she knew instantly that something was wrong.

Mother! she cried out in alarm, what happened!  Are you alright!

Her mother was seated in an armchair in the dining room, sobbing.  There was a black and blue bruise on her right cheek.  She turned to see her stepfather of two years lying flat out, dead drunk on the floor.

Ann's face turned from alarm to anger as she glared with disgust at the tall, big boned man snoring away, with his arms outstretched on the ground.  Her stepfather stank of cheap whiskey.  He must have slipped off to one of the saloons while she was gone, she thought to herself, and then came back here completely inebriated.

She could see him stumbling through the front entrance, thoroughly intoxicated.  Her mother must have said something disparaging, and he lashed out at her with his hand.  Many people are cheerful when they're filled with drink, she reflected, but not her stepfather; he was a mean drunk, and the whiskey brought out the worst in him.

Did that brute strike you, mother? she asked, glaring at the sleeping figure on the floor.

Her mother nodded, still sobbing.

Ann felt a terrible anger rise within her.  For a moment, she had the urge to grab a club, and smash the drunk's head in.  But, she controlled her rage.

Instead, she kissed her mother gently, and cupped her face in the palm of her hand.  She examined the bruise closely.  It was a nasty welt, she observed, and was quite swollen.

Mother, she said, why do you stay with this man? Let's leave right now.  We can fend for ourselves.  When he comes to, he'll be on his own, and we'll be out of here!

Jane Mahern looked up at her daughter, and shook her head.  She was a middle aged woman, shorter than her daughter, with brown hair and blue eyes.  Once, she had been far more attractive, but the loss of her beloved husband and living with a drunkard, had taken its toll.

It's too late for me, Ann, she replied.  I'm too old to start over.

The fear on her face was palpable.

It's never too late for anyone, Ann said. 

Her mother glanced down at her stepfather.

He's not a bad man, Ann, really he isn't, she said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself.

When he gets up from this, she continued, he will be quite apologetic for what he has done.  He's fine when he is sober.  It's the drink that has taken hold of him.  He's been drinking more since times have gotten bad, and it has a grip on him.

Ann looked into her mother's eyes.

I'm interested in you, mother, not him, she stated unsympathetically.  There is no excuse for his brutish behavior.

She placed her hand comfortingly on her mother's shoulder.

I love you mother, she said gently, and I don't want to see you hurt.  These drunken rages of his are getting more and more frequent.  One of these days, he will hurt you a lot worse than a smack on the cheek, and he won't even know what he is doing.

Ann's mother grasped her arm, and kissed it.

You're a good daughter, Ann, she said, but don't worry.  I can handle him.

Her mother looked at her and smiled.

It's not easy for me to say this, she said, "because I love you very much.  But, I think that you are right.  It is time for you to leave this place, and make a life of your own.  There is nothing for a