The Baker's Arranged Bride: Coal Valley Brides, #4

By Rose Andrews

* A Novella*

Willa Olson dreams of being an independent woman, free of ties to her overprotective parents. But her Pa has plans for her future. When he arranges for her to marry the town baker, she figures to make the best of the opportunity. Unfortunately, her groom isn't too thrilled about the marriage, and she soon faces the predicament of living with a stranger hesitant to love again.

Julian Reed agrees to marry his business partner's daughter in order to open up a bakery in Coal Valley. His new bride carries an intoxicating passion and zest for life that draws him in, yet his heart can't seem to move forward from a previous love. In order to secure a happy future he must make a choice: hold on to the past or appreciate his present.

Will this business arrangement produce the fruits of a good marriage?

A clean and wholesome sweet western historical romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mythobooks Publishing
• Release date: Oct 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386160540

Rose Andrews

Rose Andrews writes about marriage, mountains, and adventure. She enjoys crafting stories about arranged marriages, marriages of convenience, and mail-order-brides in Western and 20th Century Historical Romance. Her sweetly toned, faith-inspired stories are about sassy heroines who wed good-humored heroes and live happily ever after. She is fascinated with history, especially the vintage years and the Old West.  She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and family, reading historical and fantasy romance novels to her heart's delight. Connecting with readers is her favorite part of publishing fiction. 

Book preview

COAL VALLEY BRIDES

THE BAKER’S

Arranged Bride

ROSE ANDREWS

Copyright © 2017 Rose Andrews www.rosehistoricals.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Unauthorized copy and distribution of this product is unlawful. Do not copy or use this product for sale in any form without written consent from the author.

1

Coal Valley, Colorado

April of 1886

JULIAN SPRINKLED CONFECTIONER’S sugar on a row of pastries at his new bakery. He’d only been open for forty-eight hours and already special orders were pouring in. Not that he minded working overtime but he could certainly use a bit more sleep. With a yawn, he slid the tray of honey-glazed cakes inside the glass display case. Reed’s Bakery was his dream come true, even if it had come at a cost.

He wiped his hands on a damp rag and glanced back at the clock. Five minutes until 8 a.m. when his future bride would arrive with her father for a visit. This would be his first time meeting her. But if she was anything like her pa, he’d be in for some trouble.

The tantalizing aroma of baked bread filled the little bakery. He strolled to the oven and checked on the rising loaves, nodding in approval. They were doing just fine but not quite yet done. He started them with plenty of time to be finished in another hour when the store opened.

A knock came from the window. Julian turned to see Mr. Olson waving cheerily at him from outside. He unlocked the front door and let him in.

Good morning there, Julian, said Mr. Olson, tugging on his fine tan suit. It smells heavenly in here. Do you think we’ll make some money today?

I sure hope so, Julian responded. It seems the town is excited to have the bakery reopened.

Ah, well, folks have been struggling without proper fresh bread for the past month.

Julian agreed. Thanks again for going in on this with me. The bank wouldn’t have loaned me the funds to open this place if it hadn’t been for your help.

Mr. Olson was a jovial fellow, large in size with a boisterous voice. Of course, son. And what else are friends for? I promised your pa right before his death that I would help with anything you needed when you moved out here. Hopefully, that training in Paris did you some good.

He patted Julian in the back with such force it made Julian cough.

Thank you, sir, Julian said, his eyes watering. And about our meeting, sir?

Ah, yes. I almost forgot. Mr. Olson tapped his chin. My daughter should be here any minute. Now, she’s a bit easy to pass over, if you know what I mean.

Julian wiped the counter free of flour. No, sir, I don't.

Mr. Olson pulled up a seat. Well, she’s a bit homely looking. Didn’t get her mother’s looks, unfortunately. But what could we do? She’s still our daughter and we love her, even if it’s taken some bargaining to get her off and married. His laugh bellowed through the room. And looks aren’t everything, son. She’s a good girl, raised with proper manners and will make a good wife. Should do you some good help around here, too.

Julian didn’t know what to make of the way Mr. Olson spoke about his daughter. It made him feel uncomfortable. Could she really be that bad? Oh, heavens. He certainly hoped not. I’ll take good care of her. She’ll be the happiest bride in all of Coal Valley.

Good. Mr. Olson coughed. Have you a glass of water? Better yet, why not spare one of those honey pastries with a glass of milk?

Those are for sale, Julian said, hesitating. I have a batch of sugar cookies fresh baked last night.

I’d like one of the pastries, my dear son and business partner.

Julian groaned internally. Fine. Be right back.

While Julian arranged a small plate of pastries for Mr. Olson, the bells atop the door jingled once again. This time, however, a petite woman shyly poked her head inside. She was homely, with hair the color of a fiery orange sunset. Her skin was paler than ivory and she bore a strong likeness to Mr. Olson. Small, unsettled eyes darted in every which direction as if she were unsure of what to do next. Upon seeing her father, she ran to him and gave his arm a squeeze.

Julian’s heart took a dive. She had to be his future bride. Not a looker whatsoever, not his type at all. He didn’t mind the loudness of her hair but it was her timid demeanor and simple way of dressing that made him certain she was everything opposite of what he liked in a woman. Still, though, he made a deal with Mr. Olson to marry his daughter in exchange for a loan to open up the bakery. The old man had come through on his offer—now he needed to do his part.

No matter though. He would comply with his end of the bargain and make an effort to give his bride a decent life. If the bakery ended up making a profit throughout the years then it all would have been worth it.

Julian prepared mentally to meet her. He grabbed the plate of pastries and glass of milk from off the back table and went into the main room where his guests waited.

Mr. Olson’s jovial laugh welcomed him in. Goodfella. Those look simply delightful. Oh, this is my daughter. Willa.

Willa. Julian repeated her name in his head as he accepted her hand for a shake. Pleased to meet you, miss.

Soon to be his missus.

Her shake was firm. Her hazel eyes were inviting. And he noticed a tiny smirk lifting the corner of her bright red lips.

It’s great to finally meet you, too, she said, her voice like an angel’s.

There was something about her that filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt for a woman in months. At least, not since that lying brat Emily Winters.

Willa wore rouge on her lips and cheeks, smelled like fresh roses and he sensed a fire about her. Feeling heat rush to his face, he cleared his throat. So, your father tells me you have a secret cupcake recipe.

Chocolate caramel, she said and lightly tapped his arm. The frosting is to die for. I’ve won two baking competitions with that same recipe, you know.

Julian took an interest. Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to share it with me someday.

Maybe. Willa tossed back one of her fiery red locks. "It is my secret recipe