Green Eyes: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By Doreen Milstead

The Boston Bride & Her Texas Cowboy & His Black Sheep Twin Brother - A woman corresponds with a man then decides to become his mail order bride but he shows up at her mother’s dress shop while she’s out. Although it’s very sudden they get married and at first, do not like each other at all. He drags her off to Colorado to look for his lost twin brother, then after that, they plan to return to his ranch in Texas. Before they can settle down, however, the brother’s past misdeeds have to be dealt with.

The Boston Widow – Three Peas In A Pod - The neighbor of a Boston widow tells her about his nephew in Colorado who is a widower, and how he could really use the company and help of a good woman. She decides to take a chance on love and move there, but after sensing the rancher doesn’t really want her to stay, she packs her bags.

Escaping Into The Arms Of The Oregon Rancher - An abused woman in NYC gathers her courage and flees her abusive husband, thinking he’ll soon follow her. She sees his face everywhere, and when she finally reaches her future husband, she thinks it’s her current husband who has, somehow and miraculously, reached Oregon before her.

The Second Chance Town - Two female con artists decide to scam a couple of rich men out west so they take two priests with them to get married, as the town’s population is only fifty people. Things start to unravel quickly when everyone pokes their noses into everyone else’s business.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Hart
• Release date: Mar 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370061785

Book preview

Green Eyes: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2017 Susan Hart

The Boston Bride & Her Texas Cowboy & His Black Sheep Twin Brother

The Boston Widow – Three Peas In A Pod

Escaping Into The Arms Of The Oregon Rancher

The Second Chance Town

The Boston Bride & Her Texas Cowboy & His Black Sheep Twin Brother

Synopsis: The Boston Bride & Her Texas Cowboy & His Black Sheep Twin Brother - A woman corresponds with a man then decides to become his mail order bride but he shows up at her mother’s dress shop while she’s out. Although it’s very sudden they get married and at first, do not like each other at all. He drags her off to Colorado to look for his lost twin brother, then after that, they plan to return to his ranch in Texas. Before they can settle down, however, the brother’s past misdeeds have to be dealt with.

Boston Massachusetts, 1887

Beatris Maher looked in the full-length mirror in her mother’s dress shop, telling herself that she was fortunate. She watched her mother adjust pieces of the fabric, pinning it neatly into place. The dress was lovely, even though it wasn’t finished. It was a slightly warmer color of white and the skirt flowed gracefully to rest less than an inch from the floor. The sleeves came down to her wrists and the cuffs were made of lace that held tightly to her skin.

She examined the lace at the neckline of her wedding gown and the light blue ribbon that laced up the back and ended in a bow at her lower back. I’m fortunate to be marrying at all, she told herself. She told herself that it didn’t matter that she didn’t know what Mr. Lockwood’s voice sounded like. It didn’t matter that he was a wealthy landowner and she was a poor dressmaker’s daughter.

Beatris, you must stop looking so melancholy.

She raised her eyebrows and Mama rose from her stooped position, gleaming silver pins showing from her mouth as she held them, ready.

I know this will be difficult at first, but I want what’s best for you and a tiny dress shop is not best. When Beatris didn’t look convinced, her mother kissed her cheek. You’ll see. God has intervened with this, I can feel it.

Beatris pushed her bright red curls from her face.

I hope you’re right, Mama.

Beatris sat down in her home above the dress shop, doing the mending that Mama took in for extra money. The soft, brightly colored fabric of the rich was much more difficult to mend than what Beatris wore. She had to find the perfect color to match the clothing, and then make sure it was thin enough that it wouldn’t tear the fabric.

She hummed softly to herself as she worked, hemming and stitching until she forgot she was doing anything at all. It was almost funny how easily sewing had always come to her, even as a child. She’d started making dolls when she was five and gone on from there.

Beatris worked until the light from the sun dimmed. Then she lit a lamp and worked until Mama came upstairs. The clock on the wall chimed nine when the two finally sat down for supper. Mama chattered happily about her day, while Beatris forced herself to eat a meal she wasn’t hungry for. After twenty minutes of the same routine, Mama let out a sigh.

Honey, I’m beginning to worry about you.

Beatris took a large bite of her food, hoping that it would suffice as a peace offering. I know you don’t understand these things - Lord knows that I didn’t when I was twenty -- but a woman must marry. If she doesn’t, she becomes an old maid and when her mother dies, she is left alone.

She set her fork down and looked at her mother, not sure how to explain what she was feeling. Finally, though, she started speaking anyway.

Mama, I don’t know Mr. Lockwood. He sounds like a wonderful man judging by his letters, but that’s not the same as knowing someone. Mama clucked her tongue.

His family is well known around the country. His father owns half of Chicago and he owns more land than anyone I’ve ever heard of. If there were something wrong with him, some gossip would have been passed around by now.

Beatris wanted to argue, but it was actually logical. Gossips always worked its way around when it came to people like Edward Lockwood.

However, how does he treat the man who owns the mercantile in his town? How does he treat people who do nothing for him?

I’m sure he treats them well. Why would a bad man want to marry a girl with no position in life? Beatris would have pressed her point. She would have pointed out that she didn’t know his middle name or if he even had one. She would have said that she didn’t know what he looked like. Instead, she feigned agreement and stood to clean their kitchen.

Beatris knocked on Mrs. Castor’s door, a large box in her arms. It contained a gaudy dress that was supposed to be fashionable, though Beatris thought it was unattractive no matter how well made it was.

When the door opened, Beatris offered a smile that nearly pained her in its falseness. Mrs. Castor put her nose in the air; an expression on her face that said Beatris was beneath her.

You may come inside and place it on the davenport. This was said in a tone that suggested that Beatris should be honored to enter.

She wasn’t.

Yes ma’am, she murmured, stepping into the house that was every bit as gaudy as the woman who lived in it. The davenport was bright pink and the carpets were yellow. More effort had been put into buying the most expensive furniture and what have you than had been put on making the home pleasing to the eye.

Mrs. Castor opened the box the moment Beatris set it down. She pulled the dress from it in a billow of purple and black lace. The neckline was far too low to be ladylike and there was almost nothing in the way of sleeves. Mama had been shocked to receive an order for such a dress as that one, but it was the height of fashion in Paris or some such.

This isn’t purple, it’s mauve, cried Mrs. Castor with a gasp. Beatris held her tongue for the moment, though she knew that it was purple, not mauve. It was much too dark to be mauve.

I simply cannot pay you full price for this, Bobsy. Beatris gritted her teeth. She’d had enough of Mrs. Castor and she’d only been there four minutes.

My name is Beatris, and that most certainly is not mauve. You will have to pay full price, ma’am. Mrs. Castor scoffed, tossing the dress back into the box.

I hear you plan to marry soon, Mrs. Castor said, casting a judgmental glance at Beatris. Who is the lucky pauper?

Beatris smiled sweetly. Mr. Edward Lockwood of the Chicago Lockwoods. He’s a landowner in Texas. While Mrs. Castor’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, Beatris closed the box, taking it in her arms. Considering you are disappointed with this, I’ll be taking it with me I suppose.

She left, not looking back. One good thing about marrying Mr. Lockwood would be that women like Mrs. Castor wouldn’t be able to treat her badly and expect her to grovel.

Edward Lockwood pulled his hat low over his eyes. His father had brought him to Boston a few times when he was a boy, but he didn’t remember it being so filthy. He was walking down a street full of middle class businesses. There were bookshops and dry goods stores, along with the occasional tailor, though what he was looking for was a dress shop with a pink sign on the front. He was in a hurry, too. It was always a hurry for him.

Edward finally saw the sign, all pink but for the white words and a painting of a girl. She was quite lovely, with wild red curls and sharp blue eyes. He wondered if she was modeled after a real girl, or if Mrs. Maher had just been feeling artistic. Beatris had said the woman was the one to paint it.

Edward walked to the front of the building and looked around for an entrance that didn’t lead into the dress shop. He couldn’t see one and finally resigned himself to being a man in a dress shop.

He pushed the door open and was greeted by the sound of a little bell’s laughter. A woman with graying brown hair turned from a woman standing on a stool. Three other women sitting in wooden chairs turned to stare at him. He looked down at his clothes, noticing that he didn’t look like the sort of man who would walk into a dress shop.

Is one of you Mrs. Maher? The woman with the brown and gray hair nodded, removing several pins from her mouth.

I’m Mrs. Maher. I don’t usually have men coming in without their wives, I’ll be honest. She wore a warm smile that led Edward into one of his own.

Yes, I can imagine, he said. I’m actually here to meet my future wife. Mrs. Maher raised an eyebrow, her smile falling. She looked behind her at the other women, who were dressed finely and were obviously wealthy. They shook their heads. Mrs. Maher gasped.

Are you Mr. Lockwood?

He grinned.

Please, call me Edward. Mrs. Maher laughed giddily. He didn’t think his own mother had ever been half so glad to see him.

Oh, dear boy, I’m so glad that you’re here. I was beginning to worry that you’d fallen off the face of the earth. Edward was already starting to like Mrs. Maher. It was too bad he’d be leaving in three days, taking her only child with him.

Well, anyway, Mrs. Maher said, shaking him from his thoughts. Beatris isn’t here right now. She’s making a delivery, but you can sit in one these chairs and when I’m done with this appointment I’ll close shop and make us some tea.

When Edward went to sit down, he realized how dainty the chairs were. They were obviously made with women in mind. His knees stuck up awkwardly and his shoulders were several inches higher than the backrest. He wasn’t a terribly big man, but he felt large and awkward in the dainty chair.

The chatter of the ladies around him reminded Edward of the hens in his yard in Texas. They talked about frivolous things like hair combs and tea services. Mrs. Maher participated in the conversation, nobody noticing the emptiness in her eyes except for Edward. He sighed in relief when the gaggle of women was gone.

Alright, Mrs. Maher said, heading for a door in the back of the shop. Are you ready for tea?

Edward sat at a scratched table in a drafty room that was ridiculously incongruous to the beautiful shop below it. He was drinking rose tea from a dainty teacup that had obviously survived a few generations. There was a chip in the rim, something wealthy people -- like his mother -- would never have stood for.

How was your trip, dear? Edward smiled at the word dear. Mrs. Maher was one of those women who is everyone’s mother.

It went well enough. I lost a good horse on the way. We got stuck in a river and he didn’t make it, but other than that, it was fairly simple.

Mrs. Maher took a sip of her tea, and then set her cup on its saucer with a quiet clink.

Are you excited for the wedding, or are you more nervous than anything? Edward thought carefully before he spoke. It wouldn’t do to tell his future mother in law that he wanted to get the wedding out of the way so they could get on the road.

I’m excited, he said. I’ve been looking forward to meeting your daughter for a while now. This was true, though a family emergency had recently put wooing his fiancé out of his mind.

He hesitated before asking the question that had risen to mind. He wasn’t sure that he wanted the answer.

What about Miss Maher? How is she feeling about this? Mrs. Maher smiled at him, though her eyes looked like she was concealing something.

Oh, you’ll have to ask Beatris about that. It’s not my place to talk about such things. Edward felt his heart sink. He had a lot of traveling ahead of him and if he ended up doing it with a resentful wife . . . he just couldn’t imagine that going well.

Just as he had that thought, the door flew open and there stood the girl from Mrs. Maher’s store sign, only her face was flushed and she was dressed more like a pauper than the princess on the sign. Her hair was wild and she blew a curl away from her eyes.

Mama, she said, a triumphant grin on her face. He noticed a box in her arms. Mrs. Castor tried to say that her dress was mauve and she wouldn’t pay full price. You’d have been so proud, I-- She stopped speaking when she saw Edward, her mouth hanging open.

Beatris stared blankly at the man seated at her mother’s table. He looked almost comical, holding one of Mama’s small, delicate teacups in his large hand. She picked her jaw off the floor, and then pushed a mass of flame red curls from her face.

Who’s he, she asked Mama, not wanting to ask the stranger who he was. She didn’t