Mail Order Brides & Miracle Babies of Ghostbrook (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 Barren Bride & The Abandoned Baby

Sidney can never have children of her own. A childhood illness has made her BARREN.

This means that no man wants to marry her. But Sidney might find her happy ending. With a little bit of love and faith, a miracle just might happen for her.

A baby placed at her door step…

Part 2: The Miracle Bride & The Baby

Tess believes that a childhood illness has fated her to a life WITHOUT children. And she believes that she doesn't deserve to be a mother.

Young George Stalley wants a wife. He wants a family, and he doesn't want to wait.

And Tess is the mail order bride he has chosen. George believes that Tess is his perfect match.

But what George doesn't know that Tess is barren…

Part 3: The Broken Bride & Her Lost Babies

Bridget, pregnant and widowed, is trapped on a ship travelling from Ireland to America.

With no money, no family, and no idea that she is carrying triplets… She is exhausted and alone.

She is convinced that she must give up two of her babies, in order to save all their lives…

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: 9781393837756

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 Barren Bride & The Abandoned Baby

1

*   *   *

Rhode Island,

Winter 1845

Mama! the child screamed out.

Sidney spun around, almost slipping on the cool slate rock underneath her feet that had been drenched by an earlier downpour. There was still a fog in the air and Sidney had to squint to make out the little girl with long blonde pigtails who was still screaming out for her mama. She's lost, Sidney thought, turning away from the crowded harbor towards the little girl whose screams had become even more urgent. 

Sidney ran towards the child. She slid and her feet went out from underneath her. As she fell she tried desperately to reach for a railing to stop herself, but it was to no avail. Her head hit the stone but the pain of the fall was nothing compared to the embarrassment she felt once she'd opened her eyes and saw that people were staring at her with pity.

Mama, look! the little girl with the pigtails cried out with laughter, pointing down at Sidney. She fell right over! She'd been reunited with her mother who came up and took the little girl's hand.

It's rude to point! the woman scolded, but she did nothing to help Sidney. Instead, she turned the child away and ushered her along, eager not to share in any more of Sidney's embarrassment. Sidney quickly picked herself up and got to her feet before anyone else could see. She brushed herself off and kept her head down, though she covertly turned her head to check if anyone was looking at her. Each of the people turned their heads away quickly as she caught their eyes, pretending they hadn't seen anything. Acting as though nothing had happened. Sidney was grateful in a way, but there was a part of her that appreciated the honesty of the child. The young girl had been too young to understand shame or embarrassment

Sidney craned her neck to check if she could still see the girl. She was about to disappear into the fog, but she was still visible. That's when Sidney saw the doll hanging from the child's right hand, as the other hand, gripped by her mother, dragged her away.

A child with a doll was a sight too much for Sidney to bear. She turned her face away and began to stare out across the ocean, letting the cool air sooth her cheeks which had suddenly grown hot. She leaned against the rails and stuck her head out as far as she could without toppling over.

The gentle sea breeze and the hypnotic swell of the ocean was one of Sidney's few joys in life. Sidney loved the cool Rhode Island weather—winter was her favorite season and she would have been happy if it had lasted all year round.

She wondered if Texas even had winters.

People who had seen Sidney's fall hurried past her. Eventually they were replaced by a fresh batch of people who hadn't been subjected to Sidney's embarrassment, and these new people stopped and greeted her in a friendly and polite manner.

But Sidney was distracted. There was a reason she hadn't quickly hurried off back to her home and buried her head in her pillow following her fall. It was her last day in Rhode Island. It might be the last time she ever came down to the harbor, the last time she ever looked over the cool, calming ocean.

She wanted to say goodbye.

She shivered in the fog and remembered to feel grateful. It might be the last time she felt a chill in a long time. It still didn't even seem real to her that the following day, she was going to leave all this behind for the desert landscape of Texas.

Am I making a mistake? She looked out at the ocean for answers.

Sidney glanced to her left and saw a ship slowly make its way into the harbor. New settlers, she thought, distracted, thinking about her own long journey ahead. Absentmindedly, she wondered if the boat journey had taken longer than her coach journey would. Sidney, like many young woman of her age and status, was clever in many ways but lacked the formal education that would have informed her that Ireland was much further than Texas. Though to Sidney, they may as well have been the same distance. Texas was as foreign to her as any country across an ocean would be.

She was also blissfully unaware, ignorant to the conditions on the ship. She didn't know that the Irish immigrants, forced out of their homes due to the famine, dying of fever, typhoid and other diseases, had been shoved onto over crowded ships, without enough food and supplies to go around. She didn't realize that a great percentage of the passengers had already died, and that many more would perish as soon as they hit shore.

She didn't know that a woman on the ship had just given birth to triplets, and that she was barely able to care for even one of them, let alone all three. Two of the babies would soon be abandoned on the shores where she was now standing.

* * *

Sidney packed carefully. Slowly. She kept thinking that if she just took long enough to pack her items that some force of nature, or fate, would intervene and prevent her from going.

Perhaps a hurricane, Sidney thought, as she folded her finest dress. Not that the dress was really much to brag about. It was made of a stiff, inflexible material and the cream colored fabric was nowhere near as pretty as the greens and purples that she saw other women wear on the rare occasion she went to a show or a play. But the dress fit well, and it wasn't frayed or damaged in any way, and Sidney knew it would do her well in Texas if they had such things as dances or shows out there. Part of her doubted that they did.

But as Sidney placed the last of her garments inside her trunk, no hurricane had hit. In fact, the weather outside was calm and flat—there wasn't so much as a breeze on that late winter day.

She sat on her bed and pulled the letter out again to re-read it one last time. She'd have it with her at all times on the coach journey of course, as it contained all the details of which coach she was to get, what stops she was to make, and where she was to depart.

But she wanted to read it again, just so that she could be sure.

It wasn't the most romantic proposal any woman had ever received, she was sure of that. It wasn't the sort of proposal she had imagined as a young girl.

We both want similar futures, Sidney. It seems the wise choice. I believe marriage could benefit us both in our situations.

She put the letter down. The wise choice. Not a very romantic notion. She sighed. Isam was right though. The marriage made sense. He was a man who didn't want children, and she was a woman who couldn't have any. A childhood illness had seen to that.

Was it such a wise choice though, to settle for a man who only wanted her for her biggest flaw? Sidney had to remind herself that most men scorned her for the very same reason that this man wanted her.

You're lucky, she told herself. Don't be foolish. You have to take this opportunity. She glanced at the grandfather clock. And you have to hurry! If you don't make that coach the opportunity will be taken away from you!

* * *

Sidney was in such a hurry to get out the door that she almost didn't see the box sitting on the doorstep. She halted and looked down at it with her eyes open wide in shock.

Surely I must be seeing things.

She shut her eyes and opened them again. She'd been praying for a miracle that might prevent her from boarding the coach, but she'd never expected this.

She'd never expected to find a baby on her doorstep on the morning of her departure.

Sidney sat her luggage down and knelt down next to the poor little darling. He was terribly small, but sweet looking, with the faintest tuft of rust-red hair in the middle of his head. Her first wonder, though it seemed strange to focus on in a way, was that the baby had been left in such a dirty old box. It looked as though it had been taken from the garbage, and had been used to store fruits or vegetables before that. Not even a basket for the poor little child? Not even a blanket? He was laying there, wrapped—but not very well or thoroughly—in rough material that looked like it was from a bag, and the bottom of the basket was lined with newspaper.

Oh you poor little boy, Sidney said, reaching down to scoop him up in her arms. Who would leave you in such a state?

The baby couldn't have been more than a few days old. Sidney felt his tiny frame and knew that he needed food desperately. As she cradled him she looked down in the basket and saw that the newspaper was Irish, and the date on the top was from weeks earlier. Curiously, she leaned down and picked the paper up, ripping the top off, the part that showed the date, February 2, and the name of the newspaper. She wasn't sure why, but something told her this: it was important to keep that clipping of paper.

* * *

I'm going to name you Dawson, for now, Sidney said as she bounced him up and down on her knee. Sidney had managed to borrow some milk from a new mother next door and Dawson was now gurgling happily. I can't go on the coach now, of course, Sidney said, talking to Dawson. She glanced up at the grandfather clock. I've missed it now anyway. There would be another coach in another few days of course, and Sidney supposed that Isam wouldn't mind waiting, but everything had changed now. Sidney had got the miracle she'd been praying for.

Sidney lay Dawson down in her arms and cradled him, the way she had cradled Luanna. It was familiar, natural. Besides, even if I hadn't missed the coach, I've got to stay in Rhode Island now in order to find your mama. Once I'm in Texas I'll never be able to locate her again.

There was a knocking at the door. Sidney held Dawson still. She wondered if it was the mother, coming back to collect her child. Sidney tried to tell herself that was a good thing. That's what she wanted. But as she looked down at the baby she had only known for a few hours, she realized it would already be so hard to say goodbye.

Sidney? A familiar voice. Not the baby's mother. Sidney let out a sigh of relief.

It's just the landlord, Sidney said to Dawson. She placed him down in the basket she had found, filled with cozy blankets and walked over to open the door to Mr. Tippin. She greeted him warmly but he did not return her good will.

What are you still doing in here? he snarled. I though you was leavin' today?

Sidney glanced over her shoulder at Dawson, though she held the door open only a crack so that Mr. Tippin couldn't see the baby. She prayed he wouldn't cry or scream out.

Something came up, Sidney started to say. I might not be able to...

Mr. Tippin shook his head. I already rented this room to new tenants. They are gonna be here in the morning. You gotta clear out before then.

Oh but Mr. Tippin, can't I just stay for a little while longer? I've been such a good tenant for you till now and—

Mr. Tippin shook his head and cut her off. These new tenants already paid me two months in advance. You ain't even paid up past today. Plus, they are paying me a dollar more a week. Can you match that missy?

Sidney's eyes grew wide as she shook her head. No, I can't sir... you know I can't. Sidney wasn't sure how anyone could afford to pay that. She realized with horror that she had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to stay. She'd given Mr. Tippin notice that she was leaving, because that's what she'd intended to do, and she had no alternative plan.

And now there was a small baby to care for. Still with her hand pressed against the door she turned to look back at Dawson. She couldn't just abandon him again. Couldn't make him live on the streets with her. If she'd only herself to look after that would be one thing—but a baby needed a real home.

Hey, Mr. Tippin called, interrupting Sidney's thoughts. Are ya listening to me girly? You gotta be out of here in the morning. Real early, too. I'm talkin' break of dawn. And just count yourself lucky I'm even letting' you stay tonight. You understand?

Sidney turned back to him slowly. I understand.

She shut the door and walked over to where Dawson was lying on the floor in his basket, gurgling happily, oblivious to everything that was gong on around him. Sidney knelt down and brushed his cheek. It looks like we're going to Texas little man.

Her mind was so overwhelmed with thoughts it was difficult to focus on just one.

Which coach will I take? How will I know the right one? And even more troublesome, how is Isam going to react when I turn up with a baby?

She couldn't think about that right now. She just had to pray that he would be understanding. He would have to realize that there was no way that Sidney could leave a baby behind. That she was making the only choice she could.

There was one last thought on her mind as she stood up and gathered her luggage.

If I take the baby to Texas, I'll never be able to find his mother.

In that moment she wasn't sure that would be such a bad thing.

*   *   *

2

*   *   *

Ghostbrook, Texas 1845

In Ghostbrook the summers never ended. This year though, there was a pretty bad drought. Isam Sullivan surveyed the land from the top of his horse and wondered if anything would ever grown on it again. Once, a long time ago, he and his family had been farmers. He was grateful now that he'd given up that folly to chase gold in the gold mines. 

But today was a day to reflect. He'd decided not to go to work. His mind was too full to be able to concentrate. Besides, he didn't feel like being surrounded by a bunch of men who knew nothing about the significance of the date. He didn't want to be subjected to their brash and uncouth ways on the anniversary of their death.

Isam heard horse hooves approaching and turned his head quickly to see if it was a friend or a foe. It turned out to be a friend, his closest friend in fact, Lamar Buck. Lamar had a grin as wide as Texas as he approached his buddy and jumped off his horse.

Get down and have a look at this, Lamar whispered, looking over his shoulder as though there was some danger that they would be overheard. There was none around for miles, but still Lamar remained covert and secretive as he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a cloth filled with sparking yellow rocks.

Isam jumped off his horse. He also checked over his shoulder, now that he'd seen that the treasure was so precious. Where'd you get that? he whispered. That ain't from the mine, sure as day. Why, the place nearly mined clean empty.

That wide grin had still not left Lamar's face. Nah, it ain't from our mine. He was still glancing around furtively, like a wild animal that was being chased and in danger of being caught.

Isam frowned. Well where'd ya get it from then?

Can ya keep a secret?

Isam looked at his friend. He and Lamar had known each other for ten years, and whereas other people—those who didn't know him so well—might have judged him as crafty and sometimes sneaky, Isam knew that his heart was usually in the right place. But this time Isam wasn't so sure. He was scared to know where Lamar had gotten all the gold from.

I can keep a secret, you know that. I ain't no gossip. And I don't like to go behind my friend's back. But if you've got those gold nuggets by illegal means Lamar... Isam trailed off as the worst conclusion dawned on him. You didn't steal them, did you?

Lamar drew his hands back, his face a picture of offense. You don’t really think that of me, do you?

Isam felt ashamed now. He'd been too quick to judge his friend. Tell me where you got the gold then. Isam remained nervous as he waited to hear the answer. He knew, from the way that Lamar was still looking over his shoulder and keeping his voice hushed that there was something untoward about the methods he'd used.

It's from a new mine.

What new mine? Isam's eyes grew wide.

Lamar jutted his head over towards the East side of the town. Behind the coral.

Isam gulped. Does anyone else know about this?

Lamar shook his head. Only me. And now you.

Isam thought for a moment. We've got to tell the other men. It's only fair.

Lamar scoffed. What do we want to go and do that for? Ya know we only got each other that we can trust in this town. The other men don't even tell us when they strike gold! They keep it to themselves! Do you really think that if any one of them discovered this new gold vein they would tell us?

Probably not, Isam had to admit to himself. Still, he wasn't sure that made it right.

Isam turned back to his horse. And why did you choose to share this information with me? His voice was low and quiet.

Aw come on man. You know why. You're my closest friend. I trust you. I want you to share in this gold with me.

Isam had to admit that was generous, at least. Lamar could have kept it completely to himself. That's what most men would have done. It was every man for himself out on the gold fields. Friends were few and far between. Isam looked down at his friend. How long do you really think we can keep this a secret for? The other men will notice our absence from the mine. They'll wonder where we've gotten off to and try to follow us. It won't be long before the new mine is discovered and bled dry just as all the others have been.

That's why we gotta act quickly. Get as much as we can while the getting is good. Lamar shot Isam a knowing look. You need all the gold you can get, especially with this new scheme of yours.