Mail Order Bride - Silver River Brides Box Set - Books 1 - 4

By Karla Gracey

Silver River is a little town full of strong men who followed the trail West to Montana hoping to get rich from the Silver Rush that gave this picturesque valley it's name. Many of them are lonely, but their pioneering spirit means they make their own luck. As the town begins to expand, its inhabitants are getting restless, looking for love and adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karla Gracey Books
• Release date: Nov 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540172471

Book preview

Mail Order Bride

Silver River Brides

Box Set - Books 1 - 4

Karla Gracey

Contents

Mail Order Bride Amelia: Book 1

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride Camille: Book 2

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride Mariella: Book 3

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride Winona: Book 4

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Other books by Karla

Mailing List

Copyright

Thank you for choosing a Karla Gracey story.

As a way to say thank you, we would love to give you this lovely short story.

book image image.jpg

Click here to pick up your free story.

Mail Order Bride Amelia: Book 1

Chapter One

I shan’t!

Amelia stared down into Jeremy’s petulant face. He was puce with his frustration, his little rosebud mouth pursed in a pout that almost made her laugh. She knelt down and took his balled fists in her hands and looked him in the eye.

I know you miss your Mama, and Papa, but they will come home soon. I miss them too. But I need you to be a big boy, to help me now. You’d want to make them proud, wouldn’t you? Amelia cajoled. He almost nodded, but then realized what she was trying to do and stubbornly squared his little feet and stared at her insolently. Then I shall simply have to write to them, and tell them that you will not listen to me, or to your nanny and that we cannot deal with you and so they must come home. Papa will have to leave his work in Washington undone. The President will be terribly unhappy with him. The entire country may end up in chaos – simply because you will not behave yourself. It is not as if Papa wanted to go. The President ordered him to go because he needed Papa’s special abilities. He had no choice. One day, when you are grown you will understand that as an adult you have to think of others rather than yourself, that there is a greater good that needs to be served. She saw his eyes widen. He had probably not ever thought about how important their father was, or that he had to follow the orders of another. 

Amelia was utterly fed up with the daily battles with her younger brother. She could understand that her father had to travel often, but why did her step-mother feel the need to go with him every time, leaving her behind to take care of Jeremy? He was her son, and he was growing up unruly and unhappy because he barely knew either one of his parents.  She loved her step-brother, but he was a spoiled brat, used to ruling the nursery in the absence of any steadying influences other than Amelia. She was tired, and frustrated that her life had become that of an unpaid and under-appreciated household help. All of her friends were busy with balls and soirees, promenades and horseback rides through the park to see and be seen. Some already had offers of marriage, others were being wooed by handsome young men while she was stuck at home, nursing a five year old who had decided that she was his worst enemy. She felt that her youth was passing her by, and any hope of her leading a life that did not revolve around Jeremy became more remote with every passing day.

But I’m not tired, he said, his voice wavering just a little. Amelia sighed and putting her hands on his shoulders ushered him into his bed chamber, knowing she was only moments away from his capitulation.

Even if you are not my darling, she said as she helped him unbutton his shirt and pants, and slid a clean nightgown over his tousled curls. I know I am, and Nanny is, and Cook is, and even Emily is.

But Emily is full of energy. She cleans the house from top to bottom and is never tired, Jeremy said, putting his thumb into his mouth. She pushed it away from his face, and lifted him up into his bed.

Emily is only full of energy because she goes to bed early and eats her greens, Amelia teased, as she kissed him tenderly on the nose.

Bleugh! Jeremy said pulling a face full of disgust. I hate greens!

I know you do chicken, but that means you need your sleep even more. He nodded thoughtfully, and Amelia chuckled to herself. It was so easy, once you knew how. Jeremy snuggled up under the comforter, and she tucked him in tightly. Good night Jeremy, sleep tight.

G’night ‘Melia, he said sleepily, finally allowing his tiredness to overcome his little body.

Amelia turned out his bedside lamp and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her as quietly as she could. She leant back against its solid strength and put a hand to her forehead, rubbing gently at her temples to ease the headache she knew was not far away. It was a rare evening when she did not feel this way. She did not feel ready to be in charge of the large town house, the fiercely loyal, but too small, corps of servants, and most especially she did not feel ready to be a mother to Jeremy. She made her way to her room, and leafed through the collection of invitations she had been forced to turn down in the past six years – ever since her Papa had remarried in fact. Each thick parchment card was yet another reminder of how much she was missing out on, and fewer came each year as people chose not to even put her on a guest list - knowing she would probably decline to attend.

Leafing through them won’t change a thing you know sweetheart, a gentle voice said from the doorway. Amelia turned to see Cook standing in the doorway, holding a tray laden with a silver chocolate pot and a thick slice of her delicious chocolate cake. I knocked, but you were in another world. I thought you might want a little bit of comfort, you’ve had a tough day with him I know. She set the tray down, and indicated that Amelia should take a seat on the bed.

They just seem to get harder and harder, the older he gets, Amelia admitted as she sank down onto the comfortable mattress, and let it take her weight. I am just not ready for this. I don’t think I will ever want my own children – not that I will ever get the chance!

Oh, I’m sure you will find a charming young man, and sooner than you think. And don’t rule out the pleasures of having your own children either. They are a blessing, not a curse, when you have them with the right man. Cook patted her on the shoulder affectionately and chucked her under the chin. Things will turn out for the best, you’ll see Amelia, and your Papa and Mrs Llewelyn will be home soon enough.

I certainly hope so. I am not sure I can continue on for much longer.

Eat up, you need your strength. Then sleep. Everything will seem so much better in the morning. You are doing so much better than you think you are. You don’t have to take quite so much of the burden on your shoulders you know, you can ask any one of us to help you – nobody would ever say no. We see how hard you are working to try and bring that boy up to be a fine young man. We know you get no thanks from him, or anyone else. But we see it, and anything we can do to help, we will. Cook turned to leave the room, but turned back and gave Amelia a gentle smile of support.

I know, and I thank you – but he is my responsibility, Amelia said stoically.

No, he is your parent’s responsibility. Maybe you need to think about making them remember that from time to time.

Cook’s parting shot had seemed harsh, but Amelia knew that the kind-hearted woman had not meant to be critical of her parents. She was simply trying to offer Amelia the support she was not receiving from anywhere else, and she was grateful that somebody else felt that too much responsibility was being heaped onto her slender shoulders. Somehow it made her feel less alone. Just knowing she had an ally, a friend who cared for her happiness and not just Jeremy’s, was comforting to her. Cook of course could not voice her opinions to Papa, she would be out of the house without a character if she were so presumptuous, but Amelia was glad somebody had noticed how much she was chafing under the pressures of bringing up a child not her own – no matter how luxurious the circumstances appeared.

Amelia poured herself a cup of the luxurious cinnamon spiced hot chocolate and sipped at it appreciatively. She felt the knots in her muscles unwind with each smooth and delicious mouthful, and sank back against the pillows thinking about Cook’s words. Maybe it was time she made her father and Georgiana realize that she had a life too, and that she should not be taking care of their son for them. There were so few options, other than marriage, open to her – and that was not possible as she was unable to get out of the house to even meet a prospect, let alone flirt and woo one into asking for her hand at the balls and soirees her social set arranged for such purposes. No, she needed something else, but she had no clue yet what that might be. But she would work it out. It was time she stopped being a doormat and took back her life before it was too late to do so.

She leaned over towards the bedside table and picked up the newspaper Cook had brought up with her late supper.  She began to flick through the pages, noting that her father’s work in Washington appeared to have been successful according to the headlines. That would at least mean that they may come home soon, but she had learned the hard way that it was not always the case. Often her Papa would whisk his young bride away for a romantic vacation in Europe, taking in the theatre, ballet and museums in London, Paris, Florence and Venice once he had achieved something he deemed a success. She was sure it made for a happy marriage – but it did little for the cash-strapped household back in Richmond that struggled on never knowing when they would return. If only Papa would arrange for her to be able to draw sums from his lawyers in these long absences, but he never thought of such practicalities – even when reminded by her to do so - and more than once she had been forced to beg the kindly Mr Vickersburg to float them a loan when she was unable to buy food, let alone pay the staff. Thankfully the corps of faithful family retainers accepted that they would receive their wages upon their master’s return, but had they been more recalcitrant she would have gone under long ago.

She should not complain though, there were so many people worse off than her. She read of such hardship, and nobody seemed to do anything about it. Unable to read things that made her cry as she thought of the starving and unhappy children in the slums and tenements of this very city tonight, she flicked to the society pages and amused herself reading of the events she should have been attending. She smiled at the announcement of the engagement of her friend Marianne Fortescue to Gilbert Graham. He was a good man, a successful and wealthy one too. Marianne would be well taken care of. She was glad, of course for her friend’s good fortune, but it was always bittersweet as she thought of her own lack of prospects.

She turned the page, and was surprised to find that the next page was filled with advertisements, not for positions or even of goods for sale, but Matrimonials. The Richmond Globe had never run such things before. She had heard of the Matrimonial Times of course, and had been amused as so many were by the tales of women who headed out across the country in search of love. So many had ended in utter disaster, the lurid encounters of bandits and savage Indians all too common – but many women seemed to have found some level of contentment, if the more romantic stories were to be believed.

She read some of the advertisements, purely from curiosity, she doubted anybody of her upbringing would either be advertising or considering replying to such a thing – but as she did an idea began to dawn on her. This could be her answer, her salvation. Something so delightfully simple, so fundamentally straightforward as this could be her means of escape. She would respond to one of these advertisements, would find herself a husband, and escape this house and all her responsibilities at last. She knew there were risks, knew it would be unlikely she would find true love waiting for her in the wilds of the West, but she would at least find freedom and right now that was all she craved.

Amelia began re-reading the advertisements much more closely, looking for the clues she hoped would be there to help her find a man she could trust, maybe even love one day. So many of them were badly written, clearly by men with little education and a very definite idea of how they wanted their wives to behave. She was determined not to escape one form of slavery for another. She knew she was expecting a lot, especially from a marriage she was looking for in a newspaper – but even still she was not prepared to accept a life no better than the one she already had. She began to despair, until right at the very foot of the page she found the one she knew, she did not know why, but she knew this was the man for her.

A Gentleman of Montana seeks a woman to correspond with, with a view to possible matrimony. The subscriber is an upstanding member of his community, has recently been chosen as Sheriff in point of fact and seeks a woman of good upbringing and education to support him in his service to the community. A love of music and good books are essential and a love of all things cute and furry would be most highly regarded. All respondents should write in the first instance to Box 37458, The Richmond Globe.

Amelia smiled. She could only assume that the mystery Sheriff had pets, maybe a dog or a cat and that he was giving warning that these animals were important to him. She couldn’t help but be reassured. Any man who could care for animals, and the weal of his fellow townspeople must be a good man. That he wanted a wife with education, and passion for literature and music told her they would have much to talk of, and she hoped those interests could be the basis of something truly special. She jumped up and almost ran to her portable desk, opening it and taking out paper and a pen. Dipping it in the ink, she sat and began to write hastily, blotting the pages and stuffing them into an envelope to deliver to the newspaper offices the very next day.

Chapter Two

An almighty rattling and clattering woke Byron from his slumber. Sheriff, I ain’t got all day to jest sit aroun’ here waiting ya know. He had come to dread the whiny drawl of the man currently locked inside the small cell in the rear of his office, his prisoner seemed determined to drive him half crazy Reluctantly he moved his feet from the desk where he had been resting them as he tried to grab just a few moments of much needed sleep. And you really need to train your damn monkey!

Milton Cains, you have all the time in the world my friend, and technically you are a guest in Simon’s bed, Byron said rubbing his eyes and standing up, a slight smile playing around his lips. He could only assume that Simon had been making a nuisance of himself, the tiny capuchin was very good at that, and his chatter was enough to drive almost anyone mad at times. He is highly trained, only ever acts out when he doesn’t like someone.

Then the critter must hate ma guts, Cains yelled. He’s been chatterin’ all night long and when he wasn’t doin’ that he was throwin’ all kindsa nonsense at me!

Byron would be glad when the Sheriff from Billings got here and took his rather unpleasant guest to the city with him. He was expected later that afternoon, but he couldn’t be here soon enough. Milton Cains had done everything he could to drive Byron crazy. He had barely had a wink of sleep since he had captured the man wanted for brutal murders up and down the state. If Milton wasn’t hollering to wake him up, he was complaining about the food – or rather lack of it – and he was not enjoying being without whiskey one little bit. He had to admit he had purposefully let Simon into the cell just to drive Cains crazy, he deserved a bit of payback. If he was to get no peace, then neither would his prisoner.

Byron stretched his full six foot frame and made his way to the back of the office to confront the annoying man whose company he should finally be rid of by the end of the day. Simon was sat up on the sill by the bars of the tiny window, chattering to himself happily. He had the rind of a squash in his hand, was gnawing on it and Byron could have sworn he was laughing. Simon, he said with a gentle flick of his head. The tiny monkey leapt deftly down to the floor, and then leapt up onto the bars of the door, squeezed through and clambered up onto Byron’s shoulder. I’ve told you before about annoying our guests, he said with a grin he simply couldn’t keep from his handsome face. Simon looked him in the eye, then hung his head as if he was