The Bride's Scarred Love (Mail-Order Bride) Read online

  The woman had called on her the day after Maisie's disappearance to inform her of all that had transpired.

  "I was too horrified for words and there was nothing I could do about it. I just sat at the foot of the steps, crying and begging God to keep the poor girl safe, not knowing the intention of the master. He returned some thirty minutes later and instructed me again to leave the house and never return. Scared as I was of the man I doubted was entirely sane, I cursed him for doing such a terrible thing to both you and his daughter. In all my fifty years on earth, I'd never seen anything quite like it. I miss Maisie so much--" Tears had clogged her throat and Ruth had put her arms around her and they had both wept out their sorrow.

  They had maintained contact and upon hearing of David's demise, she had also come to pay her condolences, as ingenuine as they were.

  "I'll be right down," Ruth told her maid. "Do we have enough to make her a cup of tea?"

  The maid nodded and Ruth had her entertain her guest while she washed her face and combed her hair.

  Nanny Brown was sipping her cup of tea when the drawing room doors opened, and Ruth burst in like a ray of sunshine. She set her teacup down and pushed herself up from the chair to hug the young lady. They sat on the sofa and exchanged pleasantries.

  "How have you been?" the former nanny broke the silence.

  Ruth's smile was genuine. "As well as I can be expected given the recent turn of events."

  "Oh," Nanny Brown's face screwed up in a frown. "What more could possibly have happened?"

  Ruth relayed the incident at the attorneys' office almost a week before. The woman shook her head as she spoke and then fell silent for so long that Ruth feared she might never talk to her again.

  "Ruth," she at last uttered after several moments had elapsed, "I think you need to get away to start your life afresh."

  The thought had crossed her mind only days after David's funeral but the fear of venturing into the unknown without any means had held her bound.

  "Yes, the more I think of it, the more I believe that's exactly what you should do," the former nanny became quite animated at the suggestion. "Leave New York, go and start a new life somewhere else. Meet a real man, fall in love, get married, have babies and live a beautiful life."

  It was a good idea, Ruth thought. She would go somewhere far away, where no one knew her or her past. She would tell no one about herself and would only express herself through her paintings. She was warming up to the idea and her eyes sparkled, but when she remembered Maisie, they became dull as dishwater.

  Her smile faded and sadly she shook her head. "But I can't leave Maisie."

  The room became as quiet as the calm before a thunder storm and Nanny Brown turned in her chair to study the young lady with her head bowed, pitying her immensely. Her late husband had really destroyed the poor girl's confidence and her head was almost perpetually bowed in response to her husband's abuse. Only with her daughter did her true beauty show. She understood the loss, being a mother herself, but Ruth had to get on with her life and not wait for the missing little girl. Nanny believed that the wicked David probably took the poor thing to the docks and shipped her far away, but she couldn't tell that to the grieving mother.

  Instead, she took her hand in hers and waited until her beautiful blue eyes met her brown ones before saying, “I understand how you feel, Ruth, believe me I do, but to be very candid, I think you should give my idea a try and not wait around here for Maisie to show up. My grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl that what is yours is yours and no matter how long it takes, it will always come back to you. You'll get to see Maisie again someday, but for now, you need to pull your life together, so that when you see her, she'd be mighty proud of you."

  "Thank you," Ruth simply said and gave the idea some more thought. "But I don't even know where to go and I don't have any money."

  "Leave the money aspect to me."

  Ruth balked at that, "Oh, Nanny Brown, I couldn't possibly take money from you."

  The woman laughed, "Dearie, I have enough money to last me till I become gray and wrinkled. My children send me money all the time."

  This was news to Ruth. "Then why did you--"

  The woman broke in, "Why did I take on the job as Maisie's nanny to earn peanuts from that stingy man? Boredom, I guess. And love for children, I might add."

  Not knowing what to say, Ruth put her arms around the woman and hugged her tight.

  "Thank you," she said with great feeling. The woman had no idea how much she had helped her with Maisie.

  The former nanny smiled and nodded when the young woman pulled away. "As for your destination, I've got the perfect place in mind for you. Montana."

  Ruth's eyes almost popped out from their pockets. "Far west?"

  "Yes. You could become a Mail Order Bride."

  "What's that?" Her forehead creased.

  Nanny Brown quickly explained the concept to her, about the quest for wealth which led men to the west to become ranchers and such, and how women were in short supply there. These men placed adverts in newspapers for brides to marry, and the women responded to the adverts.

  "The daughter of a late dear friend of mine once responded to such an advert. I thought it was unwise, but she was down on her luck, an orphan I took in. She didn't want to continue living off me and the man who promised they would exchange vows before a preacher left her to do that with another woman. She took the risk and today she's a happy and fulfilled woman. I receive letters from her all the time. Three children, a loving husband, a home to call her own, what more could she ask for? You should think about it."

  Ruth worried her bottom lip. She didn't know if she wanted to be married again, at least not so soon. Who was to say that the man wouldn't be exactly like David, or even worse? Just because it worked out for Nanny Brown's friend didn't mean it would work out for her too. It seemed an exciting adventure, filled with all the risks of moving to a new place to meet a total stranger with the intention of marriage. It sounded insane to her mind, but she weighed her options. Moving far west and starting a new life versus living with her parents in fear of her father again marrying her off to his own benefit. She shuddered at the thought. Why not be joined to a stranger on her own terms rather than be foisted off to someone who might or might not be as despicable as her first husband?

  "Nanny Brown, I think I'm going to do it."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Weary Cowboy

  Whistling, Caleb Mason rode his large Appaloosa through the wide plains in the direction of his cattle ranch in Bluewater, Montana. His weary bones were rebelling the arduous work they had been through over the past weeks. Thoughts of his large bed and warm food in his belly spurred him on.

  Having most of his cattle survive the past harsh winter was somewhat of a miracle. The few losses weren't enough to worry him, although the death of any cow brought him pain. His cattle had multiplied and were now too many to stay on the range. Grazing would be problematic, so he had decided it was time to round them up as usual and then sell them up north where he would make a profit. He and his workers had worked long and hard herding them for the cattle drive in two days’ time.

  Tucker Wilson, his sixty-year-old right-hand man rode up beside him. Caleb cast him a sideways glance and continued whistling.

  "Say, Caleb, have you given further thought to what I told you two days ago?" the older man queried with the hint of amusement in his voice.

  Caleb groaned inwardly but he managed to look straight ahead without showing emotion, "What's there to think about, Tucker? It's a ridiculous idea."

  Tucker pursed his lips in an effort to suppress his amusement, but he didn’t quite manage it. His head tilted and rich laughter rumbled from his chest. Just as he had thought! The feller behaved like a scared bunny whenever the issue of women was mentioned.

  "What's ridiculous about a mail order bride? Folks around Bluewater have been doing it and their unions have all been blessed with childr
en who will grow to help out with their farms and ranches, which is testament to its success."

  The rancher grinned at the other man just to rile him, and then stated, "Well, good for them but it has nothing to do with me."

  Tucker threw up his hands in exasperation. "You are just as stubborn as your cows."

  Caleb let out a low laugh and shook his head, "And you, my friend, are just an ornery old cuss."

  The foreman gave a sharp retort of laughter. "Look who is talking."

  Caleb chuckled and looked straight ahead, aiming to get to the creek just a short distance from the ranch to water the horses. The summer heat wasn't doing them any good. It was a good thing that they were such good horses.

  "Where are you headed?" Tucker asked when his boss drew the reins of his horse in the direction of the creek instead of the ranch a short distance away.

  "To the creek. Black Thunder is thirsty."

  The horse grunted at the mention of his name and Caleb stroked his glossy dark mane.

  "Good!" Tucker grinned. "There I could talk some sense into you without anyone overhearing us or intruding."

  Caleb almost turned his horse in the direction of the ranch at his foreman's words and sheer will alone kept him from turning tail and taking off. Tucker was always trying to match-make him with the few women in Bluewater. Usually the women were snapped up by others, and soon married. And now, Tucker had the useless idea of a mail order bride. What woman would be desperate enough to leave her home and family to marry a man she didn't know? Definitely a woman running from the law.

  He told Tucker his thought and the man laughed, "You have a very imaginative mind. Have you thought of the fact that these women might also be in your shoes, orphaned with no relatives or friends to call their own, just wanting a change?"

  Caleb honestly hadn't imagined that. Who was he to judge, with his physical and emotional scars? Recalling his scars brought memories too painful to ever be forgotten.

  His father had made the move from the city to the rocky plains, with the desire of living a secluded life with his family. He had started a ranch with wild steers and later crossbred them with other breeds. His prices were usually on the high side, but his stock was so good, the buyers didn't grumble too much. But all the joy of making money for his family was lost one fateful night. No one knew exactly what or who started the fire, but it had glowed in wild flames, consuming the house in which his parents were sleeping. Unable to sleep, he had gone riding in the open fields not thirty minutes earlier. The acrid smell of smoke and the black cloud brought him back like a bat out of hell. All efforts by the community to put out the fire were to no avail.

  "Papa, Mama," he yelled, trying to get inside to save them, against the restraint of their closest neighbor's wife. The small boy yanked himself free of her hold and ran into the house. Coughing painfully, he had gone in search of his parents in their room. Before he could reach them, a section of the building collapsed on him. It was a miracle that he survived. His rescuers had wrapped themselves in thick blankets doused in water and dragged him from what was once the living room. He spent weeks in hospital recuperating and was unable to attend his parents’ funerals. He left the hospital with the eternal scars on his back, arms and legs. It was unbelievable that his face was not affected.

  Putting his young life back together had taken some time but his determination had panned out and he rebuilt the ranch and made it the success it was today. But there was something missing in his life. He nursed a void in his heart that only a woman could fill. There were times he remembered life with his parents, the love they had shared which had made him yearn for the love of a woman and a family at a young age. Who was he kidding? No woman would want him after catching a glimpse of his scars. She would turn away in pure disgust. It was the reason he was never bare-chested and always covered to his wrists. No need setting himself up as an object of disgust or pity.

  His insecurities made him very sensitive to his scars, thereby robbing him of the confidence to speak to a lady. He feared getting close to someone who would only avoid him once his scars were revealed. He could protect his heart by staying away from the ladies.

  They reached the creek and Caleb leaned forward in his saddle and rested his hands on the horn, guiding his horse to drink before sitting upright again. His eyes focused on the scenic beauty about the creek and he thought how wonderful it would be to bring a woman here. They could relax under the trees with their brown leaves, and snack on bread and cheese while they talked about their lives. But this wasn't the best time to bring a woman here. Spring would be best, when the flowers were blooming and running riot along the creek beds. It made for a breathtaking sight.

  "Penny for them," Tucker broke into his thoughts after watching him for awhile.

  A knot was tightening in Caleb’s chest as he dismounted. Apprehension at possibly living his life alone got him wondering if Tucker's idea wasn't a viable solution. He wasn't one to give up, except where women were concerned, but he had to try. He had to keep trying until he found the right woman for him, who would accept him with his flaws. Maybe if fifty failed, one would yield results. He chuckled at the thought of putting out fifty attempts at advertising in the papers. Folks around there would think he was losing it, as only a few knew of his scars.

  "I asked you a question, boy." Tucker also got down from his horse and eyed him.

  Caleb headed for one of the trees to share his bread and cheese and cold beef with his pseudo-father, washed down afterwards with water from their canteens.

  "I never knew you to be a coward," Tucker spoke into the silence broken only by the sound of running water in the creek.

  Caleb knew Tucker was trying to goad him into a response, but he was a man of few words and didn't want his friend to know he was giving his suggestion due consideration.

  Tucker gritted his teeth in exasperation. He never knew what the boy was thinking behind his cold but very handsome façade. If Caleb ever dared to go into gambling, his poker face would win him a fortune. Caleb had no idea that local women wanted him for his money, but Tucker knew. The ranch was doing very well, and he was more than handsome, but he shied away from any female attention. Inviting a willing, unknown woman to start a family with him was his best bet. He knew the boy's scars bothered him, but Tucker believed that a woman who would be willing to travel such a distance would also be willing to accept his scars. He told the stubborn mule of a man as much.

  Caleb listened to Tucker go on and on about the positive aspects of a mail order bride but when he mentioned fathering children, Caleb rose quickly to his feet and told him it was high time they returned to the ranch, silencing him-- for the moment.

  The sun was setting when they rode into the yard. Caleb led his horse to the stall and gave him a good rubdown and a decent serving of hay and water before leaving to take a well-earned rest at the ranch house. He entered through the kitchen door and could not help but imagine a woman there to welcome him home with a smile on her lips and a kiss; not to mention a hot and delicious meals. But the kitchen was empty, stale and cold. Frustrated, he went up to his room to remove his cowboy garb and to wash up.

  Mutton stew was bubbling in the pot on the stove when he walked into the kitchen some minutes later. He and Tucker alternated cooking and Caleb had to admit that his foreman was a better cook than he was. The old man knew the right additives to make a meal just right.

  With his stomach grumbling from hunger, the young man pulled a chair out from under the wooden table set in the corner of the kitchen and waited for the old man to finish up. He was served his meal and he dived into it with relish.

  "Now, about this mail order bride thing," the old man began, "I think--"

  Caleb groaned and barked, "Fine! I'll do it. Now can a man please eat in peace?"

  Grinning from ear to ear, Tucker said, "Sure, you could even go for a second helping."

  Caleb threw him a dark look, but nothing could rile Tucker now. Victory kept him grin
ning as he cleaned his plate.

  That night, Caleb slept fitfully. He wondered whether he had made the right decision or the biggest mistake of his life. He couldn't turn back on his word now, albeit given in anger. He would brace it out and hope for the best.

  The following morning, the sky was just turning pink when they rode out of the valley. By the time they reached town, the sun was up. He went to the office and placed an advert in the Matrimonial Times: simple and straightforward just like him.

  Companion wanted at Creek Valley Ranch in Bluewater Montana to help with cooking, cleaning and other chores.

  When he told Tucker the words he had used, the old man had cursed him, but it was too late now.

  "What?" the young man asked, astounded at the man's ire. He had done what he wanted. So what more did he want from him?

  "Well, it sounds more like you want a housekeeper than a wife!"

  "Oh." Understanding dawned on Caleb. What! Was he supposed to write flowery words like he wanted a wife, a soul mate, a lover, a mother to his children? Bah!

  "I did put companion," he said to placate the man, but Tucker stormed off, muttering words about silly boys who thought they were men and had to be told everything, which elicited a chuckle from him as he repositioned his hat and went after him.

  Tucker didn't talk to him for the rest of the day as they rode back to the range. It suited him just fine because he was accustomed to being lonely and it afforded him the opportunity to think. If no one responded to the advert, he would just have to place another and let Tucker choose the words for him.

  The cattle drive to the north was tedious, but he and his workers were able to bring it to a successful conclusion. It took weeks for them to get back to the ranch where he was surprised to find a letter waiting for him. His heart beat painfully inside his chest as he tore the letter open.

  One Ruth Belmont was willing to be his bride!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Daydreaming

  "Are you sure everything is as it should be?" Margaret asked her daughter, eyeing the overflowing trunk open on the bed.