Mail Order Brides of Colorado (A Western Romance Book)

By Faye Sonja

Three inspirational stories of women who risked everything for love and traveled thousands of miles to the western frontier.

Part 1: The Scarred & Feisty Bride

A tragic past has left Martha Dunn alone and disfigured … When she answers to William Gravell's ad, she has no idea the kind of life she is leaving behind.

They say love conquers all, but what happens when love comes with a jagged scar that no man can look at?

Part 2: The Scarred Preacher's Bride

Rose Dunn is a twenty-one year old rebel. Her fiery temper has gotten her into trouble more than once, but never so much as when she answers the mail-order bride ad placed by her elder sister's former fiancé.

Thomas Walker is a preacher. He is scarred but not broken. He was expecting a reticent woman—a preacher's wife.

But what he got was a feisty hothead with a rebellious streak... Can their love survive?

Part 3: c

Elizabeth Hope has never embraced life due to a problem she has: She is barren!

Scared and desperate, she responds to an ad for a mail order bride placed by a man in Colorado. Never did she realize this is the beginning of her worst nightmare!

She thought she is marrying a man she thought was kind and gentle... instead she found an abusive alcoholic.

Is it too late for her to find true love, or could the man of her dreams still be out there?

3 parts of heartwarming mail order brides tales of love, romance, and triumph over adversity in one book.

Love on the western frontier was a rare treasure. Follow these inspirational women who risked everything to travel to the untamed West in the hopes of finding love and starting a new family.

If you're a fan of clean western romance, you will love this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Faye Sonja
• Release date: Feb 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393673675

Faye Sonja

Faye Sonja is a multi-voiced writer who aspires to use different voices in telling her stories, seeing characters coming alive through the multi-faceted writing styles give her great satisfaction. As a young girl, Faye Sonja has been fascinated with stories of the Old West, especially the theme of Mail Order Bride where a woman will find the courage to leave her homeland, take the plunge to seek out the love of her life out there in the unknown land. Such an act requires bravery, such an act requires faith. It takes a woman with strong Christian faith to step out on such a pursuit for her love. It is Faye's desire that readers will once again have the courage to believe in love again from reading her books, to be inspired through the characters in her story who through perseverance, in the face of obstacles, overcame the hurdles using that simple faith and belief of theirs. 

Book preview

PART 1

The Scarred & Feisty Bride

1

*   *   *

Martha Dunn sat in her seat as the train whizzed by the countryside. Colorado was so pretty—nothing like the barren dustbowls of Nebraska that she was leaving behind. She watched the mountains in the distance and wondered at their magnificence. If God could create something as majestic as the view before her, surely he could help her find the peace she sought now. She pushed a stray strand of yellow hair back in place and let her eyes absorb the land. In her twenty-two years, she had never seen such beauty.

Her hand moved absently to her face, as it so often did. Her finger traced the scar that ran across her lips, marring them for eternity. The pain had subsided some time ago, and she was grateful for that, but she often wished the accident had not left her so deformed. She knew such wishes were vain, but she could not stop them from surfacing now and again.

Her hand drifted from her face to the letter in her lap. She read it again, trying to ascertain what type of man William Gravell was from the few words they had exchanged. His letter was perfunctory, nothing more. An acceptance of her application. It told her nothing of the man William Gravell was deep in his soul.

Ms. Dunn,

I am pleased to inform you of my decision to accept your application over others I have received. I will meet you at the train station upon arrival. We will be married shortly thereafter by the town minister.

Sincerely,

Mr. William Gravell

She had told him of her accident, and he had chosen her anyway; that must say something of his character. But still, what if he changed his mind once he saw her? It was one thing to write of her scar; it was another to show it off in person. She wondered what Thomas would think of her going off like this if he were still alive. She had buried the clothes they had found, insisting that her fiancé have a proper Christian burial even without a body. The clothes had been torn to shreds. Occasionally, she wondered what had become of the body. Had the bear that killed Thomas dragged it away or eaten it right there? She shivered and tried to focus on the new path she had chosen for herself instead of the one she was leaving behind.

Martha had never thought she would answer an ad like the one William Gravell had written—a widowed man seeking a bride to care for his two small children. She had pushed the paper aside the morning she had read it, paying no more attention to it for the rest of the day. Later that evening, of course, she had overheard Rose on the porch saying goodnight to Mr. Taylor.

Mr. Taylor, you get up from there, Rose had said, attempting to pull him up off his knees, but Mr. Taylor had resisted.

Miss Rose Dunn, I have a good business here in town. I know you to be a good woman, seeing as how you looked after your sister after her accident. I am asking you to be my wife.

Rose had flushed, and Martha had pressed her ear closer to the door. She knew it was wrong to listen in but could not help herself. If Rose left, what would she do? Rose had turned him down, though, saying that she could never leave Martha alone. As things turned out, Rose had turned down another offer earlier in the year from one of the richest men in town. Martha realized then that her sister would never have a life for herself unless she could find a way to make her own path. So, she had answered Mr. Gravell's ad.

The train stopped, and Martha started. She looked around and saw people moving off the train. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Stepping off the train and onto the platform was like entering a new world. The air was fresher than in Nebraska, and the sky seemed brighter. She smiled, thinking that, for once, she had made the right decision. She did not see any man resembling William Gravell's description and began to pace. She had no money to go back should things go wrong.

A small boy walking beside his mother stopped and stared at her. Look Mommy! he said, pointing at Martha. His mother turned, her cheeks reddening when she realized her son was pointing at Martha's scarred face. She quickly pushed his finger down and nodded to Martha. Martha nodded back and fingered the cross around her throat. Please God, let this town be different.

* * *

William Gravell moved quickly down the path to his carriage. He was already running behind and would never make it to the station in time if he did not leave now. He had one foot on the carriage step, the driver already seated, when George approached him from the construction site.

Mister-Mister Gravell? George asked. Might I speak to you a moment?

William sighed but stepped down from the carriage. Yes George, what is it?

Well— George was a skinny man with a balding head. He often stammered around William, like he was afraid of him, which William found irritating. He preferred people to get to the point. But he was a good worker. Construction was a difficult business, and it was hard to find good workers, especially after the last illness wiped away so many of them. His wife's face flashed before his eyes, her skin pale, her eyes bulging. He pushed the thought away.

Well, George stammered, it's like this, Mr. Gravell. I got me a new job. He spit the words out like they left a bad taste in his mouth and cast his eyes toward the ground.

William knew what it meant. Who are you working for, George? George only shook his head and shuffled his feet. Is it Mr. Barrett? he asked.  George finally met his gaze and nodded.

William sighed, Alright, George, good luck to you. If you ever change your mind, you will be welcomed back. George sighed in relief and ran off before William decided to yell at him instead. William stepped into the carriage, the weight of George's departure weighing on his shoulders. He did not know what he would do if he lost another man. His business could not survive. Construction work required construction workers. Henry Barrett had been trying to steal the new courthouse job from him since he had gotten it. If William lost another worker, the town might just give it to him.

The train station was nearly deserted when he arrived. He searched for his new bride but saw only a tired looking woman standing off to the rails. She approached him. Mr. William Gravell? she asked. He tried not to show the discontent her appearance caused him. She had told him of the scar, but he had envisioned something entirely different. This was a jagged mess that ran over her lips and toward her nose. It was bright pink, and he wondered at how a horse had done this to her. His children might be frightened when they saw her. It was a pity, for without the scar, she would be quite a handsome woman.

I am Mr. William Gravell. Miss Martha Dunn, I presume? She nodded. Follow me, please. He turned and walked abruptly to the carriage, leaving her to follow behind him. He was trying to clear his head. All God's creatures deserve respect, but he was not at all sure about this woman. He did not know whether he could look at her face for the rest of his life

He got into the carriage as she stood by, looking around. Are you getting in? he barked at her. Her face flushed, which made her scar more prominent. Her eyes, which were actually rather striking, burned a bright blue.

Yes, I am getting in, but I would like to say right now that I do not care for the manner in which you greeted me. I have traveled a long way. A little common courtesy would be appreciated. Then she stepped into the carriage and folded her arms across her chest.

William was taken aback by her audacity after only having just met him. He had expected a more timid wife. However, he appreciated that she spoke her mind. I am a very busy man, he told her. I have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in. I expect my wife to understand that.

Martha glared at him. I understand perfectly well that you are a busy man, but that does not mean that you need to be rude. William opened his mouth but quickly shut it, deciding it was best not to make things worse. He would wait until his children met her and simply send her back if she was not satisfactory.

* * *

The carriage arrived at a large house that was nothing like the home Martha had shared with her father before he died. She was about to step out when William stopped her. He had thought about their first encounters all the way back and decided it would not do to begin this way.

I would like to apologize for my behavior at the station, he said. I am under a great deal of stress at the moment, but you are quite right that that does not excuse rudeness.

Martha's scar marred her smile, but William could still tell that she was pleased with his apology. I accept, she said.

Two small children ran across the yard. The boy, perhaps four, with tousled blond hair, and, Martha suspected, a slight wild side, chased after a girl who could be no older than five or six, with blonde ringlets and a pretty dress that she did not seem comfortable in. The boy held something from his hand and seemed to be tormenting his poor sister with it.

William stepped off the carriage. John! Ruth! The children stopped what they were doing and turned toward their father with red cheeks. They obviously had not realized he was home. They approached him cautiously, their eyes darting to Martha and back to their father.

John, what are you chasing Ruthie with? Slowly, John held out his hand. A large earthworm wriggled around in his palm. William sighed.

Father, John is gross, Ruth said. He plays in the dirt all day and isn't doing his lessons like he's supposed to.

Is that true, John? William asked. Have you not done your lessons for today?

John shrugged. Lessons are boring, he kicked at the dirt. Besides, Mother would have let me go outside.

William stooped down to their level and embraced his children. Your mother is no longer here. She is in heaven now, watching down upon you, and she will know whether or not you do your lessons.

John nodded, Sorry, father. Martha watched the scene with tears hiding just out of range. The loss of her own father, coupled with that of Thomas, had been much for her to bear. Without Rose, she never would have gotten through it. She wondered how this man had managed.

She liked the way in which William handled the children. Despite the cold greeting which he had given her, he showed kindness and affection to his family. That was something she admired.

William stood back up and looked at Martha. He saw her eyes brimming with tears and was moved that she should feel so much for his family. Perhaps things would work out with her after all.

John, Ruth, I would like for you to meet Miss Martha Dunn. The children looked at her with wide eyes, John hiding partially behind his father. Don't be shy, William said. Say hello. She is to be your mother. John held his hand out to Martha; the worm was still in it, and William sighed, reaching toward it. Martha beat him to it, grabbing the worm from John's hand with her own and releasing it into the grass.

You touched it! Ruth exclaimed, a wide smile playing across her face. John beamed. William looked at Martha with wonder, realizing that she was much stronger than he had initially given her credit for.

Come, children, he said, inside. The reverend will be here shortly; we must prepare.

Martha followed William inside, thinking that maybe God had answered her prayers and delivered her to a family and a place where she could find the peace she had so long sought.

*   *   *

2

*   *   *

Martha woke up and for a brief moment forgot where she was. She looked around the room, the evening flashing back to her. She was a married woman now. It had been rushed and not what she had imagined as a girl growing up, but it was done. She smiled softly, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Married women were supposed to spend the night with their husbands, not alone in a separate bedroom. She had wanted to ask William about his decision that she should not be with him but thought it might upset him. In a way, she was relieved, but she still felt it wasn't right.

She dressed quickly and went down in search of her new family. Ruth and John were already outside playing, and she made a note to herself that she would have to get up earlier from now on. The cook was in the kitchen, getting things ready, and Martha went to introduce herself.

Good morning, she said, I am Martha Du— she paused, correcting herself. Martha Gravell.

Hello Missus, the cook said. She was a large woman with a slight Irish accent and a gay smile. Martha liked her immediately. I'm Mrs. O' Flannery. I do all the cooking in this household. I'm just getting things ready here. The children are outside if you'd like to see them.

Thank you, Martha said. Do you know where Mr. Gravell is? She was anxious to see him and determine what her exact duties were regarding the children.

Out front, Ma'am, talking to the mayor.

The mayor?

Mrs. O' Flannery nodded, and Martha thanked her. She wasn't sure why, but the thought of the mayor being here frightened her a little. She'd never known anyone very prestigious, and she was eager to make a good impression.

She saw William talking to a large man with a bushy mustache. His head was bald, and he was very animated when he spoke. He had a deep booming voice.

Now listen, William, I'm afraid I just can't give you any more time on the courthouse. Henry Barrett has promised to have the job done in half the time and at half the cost.

Mayor LaSalle, William said, unaware of Martha, my men will be finished at the appointed deadline. I assure you. As for cost... the only way that Mr. Barrett could offer a better price is if he was cutting corners. I would never do such a thing; it is bad business. I assure you, though, that we will be finished on time.

Well, Gravell, that's what I like to hear. I have faith in you. You have till the end of the month to show some progress. If we don't see it... His words lingered in the air, and Martha didn't need further explanation to understand the situation was bad.

Good day to you, Gravell. His eyes fell on Martha, and she felt herself blush. Hello, who have we here?

William turned. His face scowled as he took her in. Martha wished she had not encroached on their conversation. Mayor LaSalle, may I present to you my wife, Mrs. Martha Gravell.

The mayor tipped his hat to her and took her hand. A pleasure. His eyes lingered on her scar only for a second, which was much better than the reaction she normally got. I am sorry I must take leave so soon. It was nice to meet you. He tipped his hat again and strode to his horse.

When he was gone, Martha ventured a question, Mr. Gravell, may I inquire as to the things the mayor was saying?

What things were those? he asked, mounting his own horse now.

About the contract for the courthouse.

He scowled at her, his lips growing tight. That is not your concern. You couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of my business, and I don't care to explain them. It is enough for you to know that business is doing well enough, and I have no concerns you need be aware of.

I see, she said, her own lips tightening to match his. Well then, might I suggest that before you go anywhere you come inside and have some breakfast with your children?

He shook his head, I have no time for breakfast. Mrs. O' Flannery will take care of everything for you; you only need watch over the children while they play.

I understand, she said, disappointed by his response. She had thought he was more of a family man than his current attitude suggested. Will you be back for dinner?

Mrs. O' Flannery will leave something warm for me; you needn't concern yourself with it. Then he kicked his horse and took off. Martha wandered back inside to the kitchen, upset.

Gone, is he? Mrs. O' Flannery asked. Martha nodded. She noted Martha's downturned lips and added, Don't take it personally, Missus. He's been like that since his wife died. Lost her and half his men in the last fever.

How sad, Martha exclaimed. It must have been so hard on the children.

Mrs. O' Flannery nodded. It was, but they came through it alright. Mr. Gravell, though, he hasn't been the same since. Would you tell the children breakfast is ready now?

Martha nodded and went in search of her new children. She prayed that she could be as good a mother to them as the woman before her.

* * *

William arrived home after dark. His bones ached. It felt as if he hadn't slept in a fortnight. When he walked through the doors, Martha immediately came up to him. He sighed and tried to square his shoulders.

Will you be joining us for dinner? she asked.

He blanched, Haven't you eaten yet? I told you not to wait for me. He didn't mean to sound so cold, but he didn't know how to interact with this virtual stranger. He'd prayed for answers but had received none, and consequently, doubted his decision to marry her.

The children wanted to eat with you, she told him. Her hair shined in the flickering gas lights that warmed the inside of his home.

Well, I'm afraid I have no time for that right now, he said, heading for his study. She followed him. He felt his cheeks flush and tried to remember to keep his temper under control. After all, she was new here; she probably had no idea that his study was off limits to everyone except him. It was his private sanctuary.

Mrs. Gravell, he said.

You may call me Martha, if you would like, she told him.

Mrs. Gravell, he continued. My study is a special place for me. It is where I conduct all my affairs. I prefer to keep it isolated except for myself.

Of course, she said, and he offered her a small smile. Yet, she remained standing outside his door, preventing him from shutting it. Is there something you wish to discuss? he asked.

Yes, there is. He was about to ask what when she jumped to her point. I would like to know when I will be moving into your room with you.

His face hardened, and he tried not to show how much her question irritated him. Never, he said, then immediately regretted the harshness with which he'd said it. Her face turned pale. What I mean is, he continued, I hold little interest in you other than as a mother for my children.

I see. He admired the way she fought back the tears he knew he had caused, admired how she kept her head high. She was a strong woman; that