Mail Order Bride - Ruby Springs Brides Box Set - Books 1-4

By Karla Gracey

Welcome to Texas and the growing town of Ruby Springs - a place where dreams can come true and fortunes made if you are brave enough to take a chance. Handsome and tough heroes with a softer side meet plucky and determined ladies who want more than society thinks they should. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karla Gracey Books
• Release date: Dec 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540164704

Book preview

Mail Order Bride

Ruby Springs Brides

Box Set - Books 1 - 4

Karla Gracey

Contents

Mail Order Bride - Catherine Finds Love: Book 1

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride - Georgina Finds Love: Book 2

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride - Carolyn Finds Love: Book 3

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Epilogue

Mail Order Bride - Bernadette Finds Love: Book 4

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Other books by Karla

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Mail Order Bride - Catherine Finds Love: Book 1

Chapter One

The house was quiet at last. Catherine heaved her weary body up the back stairs and into her room in the attic. She collapsed onto her narrow iron framed bed and lay prone. Though life would still be busy in her employers’ absence, it was a blessed relief to know that Mr and Mrs Caldwell would not be in Richmond for the next three months whilst they visited Europe. Of course the past weeks had been a flurry of packing and panic as they prepared for their extended tour of Italy and Greece. Choices were made and then rescinded as the younger girls in particular changed their minds at every turn as to which of their many gowns and hats they would take with them. A part of her envied them their wealth, their ability to travel wherever their whims chose, but they never seemed to be any happier for it. But for now, she was content to revel in their absence, and the thought that she would be able to have a lie in until six o’clock in the morning.

She rolled onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling. Her back ached and her feet were sore from all the running up and down stairs she had undertaken, and it made her restless. She fidgeted, knowing she should undress and wash before bed, but though her mind was willing her body rebelled at the very suggestion of movement. Sluggishly she dragged herself into a seated position at the edge of her bed, and then pushed herself up onto her feet and walked slowly, her heels burning and toes curling inside her boots with every step she took towards the wash stand. She poured water into the bowl and splashed her face. Carefully she unpinned her long, dark chestnut hair and fastened it in a night plait. She stripped off her apron and gown, her under clothes and pulled on her nightgown. She grinned at the sight of her boots poking out from beneath the long white cotton shift and hobbled back to the bed to remove them, taking the basin of water with her. She placed it on the floor by the bed and took off her stockings. Bracing herself for the cold water she dipped her toes tentatively into the bowl, letting them sink in fully as she got used to the temperature. She sighed, and leant back on her elbows as the water soothed the burning heat out of her tired feet.

Cat, her friend, and fellow chamber maid, Ellen said, standing in the doorway, dressed in her own nightgown. Catherine opened one eye, but did not move. May I come in?

Of course you may, just don’t make me move a muscle. I have never felt so tired in all my days.

Me neither, Ellen agreed settling down beside her on the bed. I thought they would never leave!

If those girls were mine I would give them a sharp slap, Catherine said, opening her eyes and sitting up a little. My father would have me over his knee for a tenth of the mischief they cause.

Ah, but that is because our parents instilled discipline and respect into us, Ellen said with a grin. Poor little mites have to be spoiled as they have only ever known the care of a Nanny, and spend their lives away at school.

Ahh, to be so neglected! Catherine said with a glint in her eye. I find it hard to fathom that they are all older than us, yet have no common sense between them.

They don’t need to Cat. They will always have the likes of us to clean up their messes and make things right however badly they may behave. The girls sat on the bed quietly, wondering about what life might be like if you never had to worry about the consequences of your actions, knowing that your Papa could make even the very worst of troubles disappear because of his wealth and position.

I’m not going to be here much longer, Ellen said suddenly. Catherine looked at her askance.

Whatever do you mean? Have you found a new position?

No.

But they won’t give you a character if you just up and leave.

I don’t need one. I am going to Texas, am going to be one of those mail order brides we always laugh about from the newspaper, she said determinedly.

You are serious, Catherine said, amused but concerned too. Ellen, you cannot. You simply don’t know who you will meet at the other end of that long journey. What if they are some kind of monster?

Oh Cat, you worry so. I shall be quite alright. I have been on my own, here in Richmond for most of my life. There are just as many dangers here as there are anywhere else in America. I am capable of taking care of myself, and I am sick and tired of fetching and cleaning for people who don’t appreciate it.

I can understand entirely why you wish to go, I just don’t know why you can’t find a nice young man here, Cat said. At least you would still be here, with your friends.

When was the last time you or I had the chance to meet a nice young man Cat? Ellen asked her frankly. Catherine had to admit they had precious few opportunities, but she refused to believe there wasn’t any hope at all for them to find a husband and raise families of their own.

You have already written to someone haven’t you, she said looking at her friend’s features. She had that stubborn look about her that told Catherine she had already taken matters into her own hands, and did not care to be talked out of it.

I have, and he sent me a train ticket to go and join him in Dallas. He has a ranch about a day’s ride from there. He seems nice, tells the most terrible jokes in his letters. But I think I like him, he seems kind and sweet.

How can you possibly know? He could be anybody. How long have you been writing to him?

For six months.

And you did not tell me? Catherine exploded. Ellen at least had the decency to look ashamed.

I did not know how to. We have always laughed at the other girls when they pore over those advertisements. But none of them would ever do anything about it, but I did and I cannot wait to be gone from here.

You would leave me here alone?

Oh Cat, I don’t want to – but this may be my only chance. Ellen’s eyes were imploring her to be kind, to say she supported her madness but Catherine was suddenly more than a little scared for her friend. Please say you are happy for me, I could not bear to think you disapprove.

But I do, she said then paused. No, not exactly. I just don’t know where you get the courage to do such a thing. I would be scared stiff.

No you wouldn’t. You just aren’t as desperate as me yet, Ellen said with a wry smile.

I think I am, Catherine said fervently.

Then let us find you a man to write to before I leave. Mayhap he might even be from Texas too! Ellen leapt up, and dashed into her own room next door before Catherine could tell her not to.

She reappeared with the Matrimonial Times in her hands, and a huge grin. He’s in here somewhere, that perfect man just waiting to meet you, she teased.

Don’t be such a fool Ellen, Catherine scolded her. I shall never write to one of these men and you know it.

Oh, go on, you can at least browse. It’s just like us looking in the window displays of the department stores. We know we’ll never buy a thing, but we can still see what is there.

Knowing she would not deter Ellen when she was in this kind of mood, Catherine sighed and let Ellen open the newspaper between them on the bed. They giggled as they read some of the advertisements. Some were clearly desperate older men wanting an unpaid housekeeper, just from the tone of their words it was easy to tell. Others seemed a little abrupt, rude almost as if they were doing the woman a favor by offering her a chance to be their wife. Many were just dull. But a few stood out. They were usually longer, and Ellen pointed out that this must mean that they had more money as the newspaper charged per word. Anyone prepared to pay a little more in her eyes was worth considering. Catherine played along with her, acting as though she might consider one or two of the men, but she knew in her heart that she would never do anything so reckless. She would pray every night that it would work out for Ellen until she knew she was safe.

I truly must get some sleep now, she said finally, as an enormous yawn made her realize just how weary she felt once more.

Good night, Ellen said, kissing her on the forehead. Sleep on it, maybe one of them will seem more appealing when you have to get up to help cook with the baking. She winked and flounced out of the room.

Ellen put the newspaper on her nightstand, and blew out her lamp. As she lay there she thought about her life. She was miserable. She was overworked, and underappreciated. Her employers were never satisfied, and she lived for their annual vacation when life was briefly bearable. Did she truly want to be stuck here, praying that a young man might find her, or was Ellen right? Should she make her own luck, and go in search of a husband? A new life? Did she have the courage Ellen did? Her life had been just as difficult as Ellen’s, though in different ways. There was little she could not face, nothing she could not tackle she was sure of it. But could she leave her secure position and take such a chance? She would have to be certain that the man she chose was good and kind, and would protect her – the way her Papa had always protected her mother. She would settle for nothing less than a love match, but could she truly find that from a newspaper advertisement?

She propped herself up on her side, and felt around in the darkness for her matches. She struck one and re-lit the lamp. It took a few moments for her eyes to become accustomed to the light. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. She reached over for the newspaper, and began to read the advertisements again, looking for the clues she hoped would direct her to a man she could possibly consider writing to. She had begun to give up hope, to believe that her initial thought that this was a ridiculous way to find a husband when she saw an advertisement that warmed her heart.

A Gentleman of Texas seeks a kind and warmhearted woman to correspond with in the hopes of possible matrimony should we suit. The subscriber is the father of a young boy, aged just three years. A comfortable and large house, and occasional luxuries such as evenings in the city for the theatre and orchestral recitals would be on offer to the right candidate – one who will love my boy as her own and will make our lonely house a home. All responses to Box 456, The Matrimonial Times.

Catherine smiled at the generous offer of luxuries she had never experienced, but it was the thought of a young boy, motherless, but with a loving father who would do his utmost to provide a happy and loving home that had touched her heart. She got up, despite her tiredness and took a sheet of paper, a pen and a small bottle of ink from her trunk and began to write. She had no clue what she wanted to say, what might make this family man consider her, but she prayed that he would. Now the thought had been planted in her brain, it seemed to be growing at a very rapid rate, and she could hardly wait to be able to leave her unhappy life here and build a new one in Texas.

Chapter Two

The rain battered its way down the roof of the house, pouring off the porch in great sheets, flooding the parched ground. Dylan had never seen such weather in all his days. The patter of small feet behind him made him turn. Daddy, will it ever stop? Kyle asked him, his hands pressed to his ears to block out the sounds of the rumbling thunder.

Yes, it will stop, Dylan assured him, sweeping him up into his arms. It is just a storm, will pass soon enough. A fork of lightning lit up the grey sky, and a bolt of thunder cracked, seemingly right over the ranch house.

Won’t the cows be scared? Kyle asked, his eyes wide.

Some might be, but Maisie will take care of them all. You know how strong and sure footed she is, she won’t let any harm come to any of her herd. Kyle nodded his agreement. The matriarch of his herd had been with him almost from the first day he came to Texas to make his fortune. He had never been able to part with her, and though she no longer bore calves or produced milk she would always have a home with him while she lived. She was the symbol of his humble beginnings, and how far he had come.

Will Mama see the storm? Kyle asked. Dylan felt his heart lurch. Every time his son talked of Anna-Maria he wanted to cry, to tell him not to – but he knew he had to talk of her for the lad’s sake. He needed to know just how much she had loved him, loved them both, and that she would never have wanted to leave them. He had vowed to make sure Kyle knew just how kind she had been, always helping out those in trouble and how much she had wanted to be his Mama.

I would say so, would think she is looking down on us and keeping us safe, Dylan said. Kyle tilted his little face upwards, as if he might see her.

From heaven, he said finally when he looked back into his father’s eyes.

Yes, from heaven.

Where I can’t see her, but she is waiting for me?

That is right, because you are a good boy and you say your prayers and do as your Daddy tells you, Dylan said tweaking his nose and trying to lighten the mood a little. Now, shall we play a game or shall I read you a story before bedtime?

A story Daddy, the one about the fox and the rabbit, he said squirming to escape his father’s arms in order to go and fetch the story book. Dylan squeezed him tightly, kissed him on the cheek and let him down. He sighed. He had told Dylan the story of Br’er Rabbit almost every night since his Aunt Whilelmina had sent them the storybook by Uncle Remus for the boy’s last birthday. He loved the pictures and the tricks the wily rabbit would play. Occasionally it would be lovely to be able to tell him another story, Aunt Whilelmina had sent many after all – but Kyle would not be swayed.

Dylan smiled as his son came hurtling back into the kitchen with his book. It had taken such a long time for either of them to be excited about anything after Anna-Maria had passed away, and he still struggled with feelings of guilt every time he felt happy – but he knew that she would have wanted them to live their lives to the full and he was determined to do so for her sake. Up to bed then? he asked him picking up a lamp from the mantel and offering the boy his hand. Kyle nodded and put his tiny hand in Dylan’s. Still clutching his book with his other hand Kyle led them to the stairs and up into his room.

He clambered up onto his bed, and nestled down under the blankets and waited patiently for Dylan to begin the story. As he read, he noticed Kyle had snuck his thumb into his mouth, and was sucking at it contentedly. Dylan knew he should admonish him, but sometimes he knew the boy needed the comfort it gave him, and so he stopped briefly and tucked his son in tightly before returning to the tale. He was barely half way through before he could hear the gentle snuffling snores that told him Kyle was asleep. He kissed him lightly on the forehead, smoothing his baby curls on his head and put the book down on the dresser. He picked up the lantern, and leaving the door ajar left him to sleep. Good night my darling, he whispered from the doorway. Sleep tight.

He made his way back down to the kitchen, and sank into the rocking chair by