Decorating Her Heart With Love: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By Doreen Milstead

The Pregnant Widow, Her Farmer, & the Jealous Cowhand - An English woman, recently widowed and pregnant, decides to head for a farmer in Montana that she’s been corresponding with PLUS The Healer On the Wagon Train - A French woman becomes the unexpected healer on a long wagon train journey out west, but will she find love PLUS The Woman Who Conquered Her Polio - A woman with polio takes the long journey by train to her mail order husband, a farmer in California. She hasn’t told him about her polio, or the fact that she may not be able to have children, but from the beginning he shows her nothing but love and kindness. When she opens up and is truly able to tell him her secret, she is afraid that means she will be sent away PLUS The Seamstress Has the Rancher In Stitches - A seamstress from Boston decides to head out to Nebraska and become the mail order bride to a rancher, but when she reaches the station and sees her cowboy, he is much older and much angrier than she would have ever imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781387515349

Book preview

Decorating Her Heart With Love: Four Historical Romance Novellas

Decorating Her Heart With Love: Four Historical Romance Novellas

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2018 Susan Hart

Cover photo copyright: sharafmaksumov / 123RF Stock Photo

The Pregnant Widow, Her Farmer, & the Jealous Cowhand

Synopsis: The Pregnant Widow, Her Farmer, & the Jealous Cowhand - An English woman, recently widowed and pregnant, decides to head for a farmer in Montana that she’s been corresponding with. The only problem she foresees is how he’ll react when he hears the news, as she’s delayed telling him for a while. Also, there’s a cowhand on the farm who appears to be jealous of her marriage with his boss, because he looks at her as an intruder in her own home. 

According to her doctor, she would start to show in another month. But it would not matter one bit. She would be far away. Far from clucking tongues and idle chatter. Far from the looks of pity. Far from the constant rain and gloom. Tucked away somewhere at the foot of the Rocky Mountains - with a husband.

From what she could tell from the grainy photographs he had sent her, he was a ruggedly handsome fellow. He was a rancher now, but had started out, as so many men had, as a gold prospector. After he had his fill of an up and down existence, as he had put it, he decided to either leave the state and go back home to Boston, or stay and put down roots. He had decided to stay and spent what little money he had left after the boom and bust times on a ranch and small herd of cattle. He had sent her a photo of the house.

It looked so peaceful set in among a stand of spruce trees.

It was hard for her to imagine how it was going to be living so far from other people. She worried about missing the contact. His nearest neighbor was two miles away. She was accustomed to London and the crowds of people - the stores and all conveniences near. In Montana, they had to take the horse and wagon into the nearest town to do shopping for essentials. The town was twenty miles away. It would take a full day to get there, shop and return at night in time for evening chores.

Well, she thought to herself, if he could do it, then so can I. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wonder what had made him leave a comfortable home and a career in law in Boston. From what she could make out from their correspondence over the past fourteen months, he was a refined, well-educated man from a family of means and standing in New England. It was this part of his background that had drawn her to him.

There had been countless proposals sent by the marriage broker. Many were interesting, some were downright disgusting, but he stood out from the crowd as one of a kind. It was hard to imagine a lawyer riding a horse and rounding up cattle.

Oh, horses! That was the other attraction. Her departed husband, Clive had loved horses and they had kept a small stable with several mounts just outside London. They would make weekend trips to the country to ride, and she loved it. The stable and horses had been sold to settle the death duties after her husband had passed away and she so missed the weekly escape from London.

Her parents kept a cottage in the country and had often offered to take her out. She had refused. At first it was just too soon after Clive’s passing – and then her doctor had given her the news that she was to be a mother. It was too much change all at once. She had spent the first month in bed, not sleeping but thinking, trying to plan what she was to do with the rest of her life. It had been all plotted out, but now her future was a blank slate.

In a dark saloon, an ocean and a continent away, Thomas sat enjoying a whiskey with his ranch hand, Jared.

Jared hoisted his glass and said, Well Tommy boy, here’s to you and your bride! May all your troubles be little ones.

Thomas smiled, lifted his glass, took a sip of the dark liquid and shuddered. Even after four years he was not used to the swill that the Wild West considered as fine libation.

Jared laughed and shouted, You pantywaist! Hey, you’re going to be a husband. You better enjoy this now. As soon as your bride gets here there won’t be any more whiskey my friend.

Thomas replied quietly, And I think that might actually be a good thing. I wish she was coming tomorrow.

When does she arrive?

She leaves London tomorrow for New York tomorrow. That takes a week. And then a long train ride to Helena, which will take five days. I’ll pick her up in Helena and we will be wed.

And life as you know it will end!

Now why would you say something like that? Thomas was a little taken aback.

Well you’re not exactly a cowboy, let’s face it. You’re more of a gentleman farmer and you mark my words, you’ll be at her beck and call, all day, every day. I’ve seen it before. Especially with these high-society London ladies who come out here to the frontier looking for a little adventure and excitement. She is high-society, right?

Well she’s from a very good London family and I do believe they are a family of means, yes. She went to a ladies finishing school in Paris, so yes, I guess you could say she is high-society. But she’s recently widowed and wants a new and different life.

Kinda like you, right lawyer?

Well there is a bit of a bond there and I must admit she was a rarity in the marriage broker’s inventory. Excuse me, not inventory – I meant portfolio.

Bah! Marriage brokers! You tell me how they are different from Miss Katie here with her ladies. As far as I am concerned, the only difference is that the marriage broker doesn’t run a saloon.

Now Jared, I’ve heard you pontificate on this particular subject many times. I don’t need to hear it again. And besides, you seem to like what Miss Katie has to offer, so I really can’t see why you are getting so uppity about marriage brokers. Maybe it’s time you settle down and take a bride, don’t you think?

Not a chance. I can’t be tamed. I was betrothed one time and was going to the big step. But I gave my head a shake and came to my senses. No, I’m not for the marrying life. Or I guess I should say the marrying life is not for me!

Well, if you were to marry, you might bathe once in awhile and that would be mighty pleasant for all your acquaintances.

I smell like what I am. A cowboy.

No, you smell like month old perspiration and animal dung, my friend. I really don’t see how Katie’s girls can get near you.

Oh, that is a point of some contention I must admit, and they do make me bathe before any business is transacted.

And that doesn’t tell you anything?

The cattle prefer that I smell the way I do. It makes me a great cowboy.

If you say so. But my man, it is time to take our leave. We have a long ride back to the farm.

Ranch! We live on a ranch. You’ve been here four years and you still don’t get it. How many acres do you have under crops?

None.

And how many do you have under pasture?

Fourteen thousand. All that I could afford.

So what does that tell you? You’re a rancher. You live on a ranch. And I hope you told your bride that. She had better not get here expecting anything different. Extremely different lifestyles, which you know very well.

She is very knowledgeable and is quite aware of to that which she is coming!

Lawyer Thomas, sometimes I can’t understand what you’re saying. You sure that’s English you’re speaking?

Oh yes. Proper English. We learn grammar in Boston.

On the promenade deck of the steamship the next day, shortly after they had gotten underway, Ruth struck up the acquaintance of another bride-to-be.

Her name was Amy and she was from Liverpool, and while her accent was hard to listen to, Ruth found her to be very pleasant company.

So Amy, where is it you are going to be living?

I’m off to California. Near a city called Bakersfield in central California, it’s where they grow all the vegetables for America. It’s going to be like living in a garden! Do you know it?

I know of it. Will you be travelling west as soon as we land?

No, my husband-to-be is meeting me in New York and we will be married there. We are staying in New York for our honeymoon. I’m quite excited. I’ve never been out of Liverpool until yesterday. This is quite the adventure.

Do you mind me asking – how old are you?

Well the truth be told, I’m seventeen.

I thought women had to be at least eighteen years of age. How did you manage to find a broker that would take you?

How do you think? I lied. I lied me arse off. I had to get out of there, away from me mom and dad and four brothers. I ran away.

So your family isn’t aware that you have left?

No. I kept it very quiet. Not even my best friend knows I have gone.

They’ll be worried to distraction. Do you feel the least bit guilty?

I’m sure they won’t even miss me. Except when they need me to do something for, or to them. I’ll write them after I am married and settled in California. Ah, California. I will not miss the rain in England. And you, where are you going?

I’m going west as well, to a ranch in the state of Montana. The Rocky Mountains - I’m marrying a rancher.

They continued to chat for an hour or so and it became abundantly apparent to Ruth that Amy was but a mere child. She worried for her and what she was getting herself into, with lying about her age to run away from her family. She couldn’t imagine how bad the poor girl’s home life could have been to make her want to go so far away. They exchanged addresses and promised to stay in contact once they had settled in their new homes with their new husbands. She couldn’t help but feel a bond with the child.

On the third day of the voyage, Ruth came across Amy again. But she was not alone this time, she had another of their ilk with her; another bride-to-be heading out to the west. Beth was her name and she was bound for southern California, near San Diego and the Mexican border, to be wed to a cowboy. Not quite the same as a rancher, as Ruth would come to realize, but there was a bond with her as well. Beth seemed a lot more prepared for this than little Amy, she was four years older and much more educated, coming from a good family in Cambridge where her father was a professor at one of the colleges. Of course, she hadn’t attended college but her father made sure she was well-read.

So why does a Cambridge girl leave the world of academia and strike out for the unknown, Ruth demanded of Beth after they had gotten to know each other a little.

Well, I fell in love with George when we were children. His dad was a teacher too and we grew up together. He had finished his first year of studies at college and wanted to see a little of the world before he got too far into his education and a career. So he picked up and set out. We stayed in touch by post of course and he convinced me that I had to join him. I told him not until we were married and that’s when he proposed marriage. And here I am, on a steamship bound for the colonies. Now how about you? Why are you on this voyage, Miss Ruth?

It’s not actually ‘Miss’, I’m afraid. I was recently widowed and grew tired of all the pity – both self and from others. I was too much with myself, I spent the first month after my husband died lying in bed and worrying about what was to become of me. My parents were supportive of course, but I had to get away from myself. Or actually get away from what I was becoming. So now, I am off to become a rancher’s wife.

For the next four days the girls were seldom out of each other’s company and as they steamed into New York harbor on October 28, 1886 they stood on the deck, arms linked and stared in amazement as the skyline came into view. There in the harbor on an island was a statue of woman holding a torch and thousands of people swarming around her feet.

"Oh I know what this is. This is the statue that France gave America as a gift. I think they call it Liberty or something like that, and the dedication