Mail-Order Cousins 5: Anya

By Joyce Armor

Feisty, determined, horse whisperer Anya O’Hara is just about certain Hank Fletcher is not the right man for her as she travels to Mourning Glory, Idaho, as a mail-order bride. In Boise, she comes across a murdered woman and her four-year-old daughter. Spotted by the killer, she grabs the child and runs for their lives. In Mourning Glory, temporary Deputy Trent Brisco hides the pair at his ranch as he investigates the crime. While the attraction between the rancher and young woman sizzles, Hank Fletcher fumes and the killer stalks them. An encounter with a bear, an ambush and kidnapping complicate matters as Anya and Trent try to navigate this new territory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joyce Armor
• Release date: Oct 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463100622

Joyce Armor

I knew from the age of 8 I wanted to be a writer. I was 15 when I wrote a scintillating short story targeted to the confession magazines, my first attempt at getting published. Alas, “Drunkenness Cost Me My Womanhood” was rejected. In the next decade, I fed my need to write by penning long letters (a dying art), Christmas card notes, English essays and term papers.Armed with a degree in English, I was tending bar in a Las Vegas casino (long story) when I had an epiphany: I would do everything in my power to become a TV writer. Two weeks later I was living in L.A., and a few months after that, I landed a job as a production assistant at MTM, where I learned from the inside how to write and rewrite scripts. In partnership with another P.A., Judie Neer, I started writing spec scripts. Finally one was accepted by “The Tony Randall Show.” Over the next several years we were freelance TV writers, with credits including “The Love Boat,” “WKRP in Cincinnati” and “Remington Steele.” Then we both got married and started birthing babies. My little family left the L.A. smog for a small town in northern California.Over the next two decades, I wrote a parenting column that won a national award, several books (Letters from a Pregnant Coward, The Dictionary According to Mommy, What You Don’t Know About Having Babies), children’s poetry (in Kids Pick the Funniest Poems and other anthologies) and plays produced in community theaters.I also got divorced and moved my two sons across the country to Myrtle Beach, SC. There I wrote hundreds of magazine and newspaper articles and columns and co-owned a regional business/lifestyle magazine.Several years ago I moved back to Ohio from whence I began, where I enjoying hanging out with family and old friends, including the same group I ate lunch with in the cafeteria in 7th grade. Since returning to my roots, I’ve read more than 1,000 romance novels and novellas. Many I loved, some I felt “enh” after reading and others I wanted to reach into the book and hit at least one of the protagonists with a brick.That’s when I decided to write my own romance novels and novellas, the kind I wanted to read, with smart, funny protagonists; and interesting (to me, anyway), not overly complicated plots with conflicts not so contrived they make me want to gnash my teeth. You might disagree, and all I have to say about that is different strokes for different folks. My youngest son once told me he absolutely hated English classes because with math, 2+2 is always going to be 4, but judging writing is so subjective. In my younger years I might have turned myself into a pretzel trying to fit my writing into some publisher’s niche. Not happening anymore. Now I’m writing for me, in my own unique voice.I’ve always been a much better writer than a salesperson, hence the e-publishing route. And I’m basking in the control. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Book preview

Mail-Order Cousins 5:

Anya

Joyce Armor

Mail-Order Cousins 5: Anya

Smashwords Edition

Cover: Vila Design

Trusty Reader: Chris Gale

Expert Formatting: Jesse Gordon

Mail-Order Cousins: Anya

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are purely fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

About the Author

Prologue

Near Boise, Idaho, 1879

It was one of those times when she knew she was making a mistake but couldn’t seem to stop herself. And now, when the train was approaching Boise, was a fine time to realize it. Anya Ailis O’Hara had caught the train in Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania and switched to the Union Pacific in Omaha. In Ogden, Utah, she boarded the Utah & Northern, which was beginning to brake on its arrival in Boise.

Had her sisters and cousins felt so uncertain when getting ever closer to their prospective grooms? That was the problem, she realized. She wasn’t actually uncertain. She felt pretty darn sure she was doing the wrong thing. This mail-order bride business wasn’t for sissies, that was for sure and certain.

She tried to talk herself into the promise she had made as she fruitlessly attempted to brush the wrinkles out of her dress. Her cousin Sophie was happily married in Nebraska. Although her mail-order adventure had turned dangerous, it all worked out in the end. Cousin Per lived on a big ranch in the wilds of Oregon, as did Anya’s sister Bridget. They’d married brothers they met through the mail and seemed beyond content. And her sister Lindy wedded her beloved rancher, a former Texas Ranger, a man she also met as a mail-order bride.

Boise, Idaho! The conductor called out. We’re comin’ up on Boise!

Well, she wasn’t in Mourning Glory yet. She still had time to change her mind. And who named a town Mourning Glory and not Morning Glory? It felt like a harbinger of things to come. It would be a few minutes before the train stopped and she could disembark. She took that opportunity to pull out Hank’s last letter from her reticule. She had read it so many times the folds were starting to wear.

Anya,

I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you

about the horses. They’re my business,

not pets. I’ll pick you up at the depot in

Mourning Glory on the 14th. We’ll be

married immediately. It will take

about an hour to get to the ranch from

there. See you soon.

Hank

She had been so excited at first because Hank Fletcher was a horseman, and Anya harbored a lifelong, almost spiritual love of horses. If there was anybody in Elizabethtown or all of Pennsylvania, for that matter, who knew more about horses than Anya, the O’Haras didn’t know who it was. She understood their temperaments, was better than some veterinarians at treating them and could ride like nobody’s business, as if she and the horse were one. She could trick ride as well, standing on a horse’s back, and ride bareback as easily as on a saddle. And that would not be a sidesaddle. Ever.

Drat! Why couldn’t the train slow down?

Mourning Glory didn’t even have stagecoach service. She would need to take a coach to Midvale and hire a wagon from there, Hank had informed her. Well, she’d take the coach, but she would hire a horse, not a wagon. She only had a satchel and could tie it behind the saddle. Maybe once she got there and met Hank, he wouldn’t seem so bad. Now there’s a ringing endorsement for a groom.

Boise! Boise, Idaho!

She sighed and stood, absently pushing a reddish blonde wisp of hair behind her ear. Was that her back creaking? Although only 20, she sometimes felt 120, old beyond her years. Would that she had the wisdom of those years. But she was in the West, at last, and knew without a doubt she belonged here. Whether she belonged with Hank Fletcher remained to be seen.

Chapter 1

Miss Anya O’Hara located the proper depot and learned the stage for Midvale would arrive in about an hour. That left her time to find a diner; she was starving. The depot agent recommended Sally’s Boise Café and gave her directions. She tried her best to wipe the dust from her forest green traveling dress, although she gave up on her strawberry blond hair. It had come out of its chignon on the train, and she had quickly braided it and let it hang down her back. She hoped it didn’t make her look 12.

The agent was right; at Sally’s, she enjoyed a tasty bowl of beef stew, light-as-air biscuits and a slice of cherry pie with an amazingly flaky crust. She also savored the best coffee she had tasted on her travels.

Will there be anything else? the middle-aged waitress asked her. With a full figure and wearing a starchy white blouse and black skirt, she had that motherly look about her. Anya could use a mother about now.

She wondered if this was Sally. No, ma’am, and I thank you kindly, I surely do.

You’re Irish, then?

Half. My better half, I expect. My father is Irish. My mother’s family came to America from England several generations ago.

Are you staying in Boise then? She refilled Anya’s coffee cup.

Anya tried not to squirm. She knew the question would come, and saying it out loud would make it real.

She sighed. No, I’m traveling to Mourning Glory.

Really, do you have family there?

No. She hesitated. I’m to be a mail-order bride.

The waitress studied the pretty young woman for a long moment before setting the coffee pot down and seating herself across from Anya. The young woman was slight of build, but there’s was a strength about her.

You don’t sound too happy about it now, do you?

There was something about the older woman that inspired trust. Anya spent the next 10 minutes pouring out her misgivings to the kind waitress, who she learned was Sally.

Do you have enough money to return home if you wish, lassie?

I do. She had nearly $300 she had earned from training horses. But I’ll not be going back. I will reimburse Mr. Fletcher for my cost to travel if I decide we don’t suit, though.

Sally laughed at that. I think you’ve already decided that, haven’t you now?

While I’m trying to keep an open mind, I don’t think it’s working very well. She took a last sip of coffee. And I’d best be going. Thank you kindly, Sally. I feel better just talking about it. It’s helped to clarify my thoughts. And I also feel as if I’ve made my first friend in Idaho.

That you have. If you need a place to stay, you come back here and see me.

Anya paid her bill and thanked Sally, relishing the warm hug in which the buxom café owner embraced her. Sally watched the young traveler walk out with her simple satchel. Yes, there was something quietly strong about Anya O’Hara. Though she was young, this was no shrinking violet. From her description, she doubted her intended was remotely worthy of her. Anya would need a strong, kind and honest man, one who appreciated the same traits in a woman. Oh, and he would have to love horses now, not just breed them, wouldn’t he?

As she headed back to the stage depot, Anya ran her speech through her head. Mr. Fletcher, I am so sorry, but I just do not think we will suit. I will be more than happy to return the funds you sent for my travel, and I wish you all the best in the future. No. Mr. Fletcher, I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart. No. A change of plans. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of plans. I’ll be needing to go…Where? Anywhere but your ranch. Bollocks!

Her thoughts were interrupted by an incongruent sound. Was that a child crying? She looked around. The couple across the street, a woman in a fancy blue gown, holding a matching parasol, and the man at her side dressed up as well in a black waistcoat and shiny boots, walked on, oblivious to the sound. Three teenage girls, giggling, jostled Anya as they strolled by, also unaware. Then she had to step out of the way of a young, disheveled boy following the girls. Probably a younger brother.

There it was again, the sound of a child crying. Anya peered down the alley she came up on and spied a woman lying on the ground, a child no more than three or four years old weeping over her. The scene

Reviews for Mail-Order Cousins 5

[benn9314 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A great story about another family in their struggles in settling the west