A Runaway for Christmas Read online

  A RUNAWAY FOR CHRISTMAS

  SPINSTER MAIL-ORDER BRIDES

  (BOOK 22)

  By

  Cheryl Wright

  Contents:

  Copyright

  Thanks

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  From the Author

  Copyright

  A Runaway for Christmas

  (Spinster Mail-Order Brides – Book Twenty Two)

  Copyright ©2020 by Cheryl Wright

  Cover Artist: Black Widow Books

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book

  Thanks

  Thanks to my very dear friends (and authors), Margaret Tanner and Susan Horsnell for their enduring encouragement.

  Thanks also to Alan, my husband of over 44 years, who has been a relentless supporter of my writing for many years.

  And last, but by no means least, I must thank all my wonderful readers who encourage me to continue writing these stories. It is such a joy to me, knowing so many of you enjoy reading my stories. I love writing them as much as you love reading them.

  Chapter One

  Salsbury, North Dakota, 1880

  Annabelle Grayson stood at the back door with her carpetbag clutched tightly to her chest. She glanced back over her shoulder and noticed the panic-stricken expression on cook’s face.

  “He’s here. That excuse for a man is here. You’d best git.” She ran over to Annabelle and hugged her, pressing some notes into her hands. “It’s not much, just the small bit of left over from last week, but better than nothing.”

  Annabelle pulled back and studied the older woman’s face. “I couldn’t. What if Papa...”

  “I’ll ‘ave none of that. You take what I’m off’ring. Your Papa, e’ll never know. Now you git.” She flicked her apron Annabelle’s way and sent her on her way.

  It was all she could do to hold back her tears once she saw cook’s tear-filled eyes. The dear old lady was more of a mother to her than Annabelle’s own mother who’d left her upbringing to the various staff who filled the house.

  As she made her way through the garden and past the vegetable patch cook so lovingly attended, Annabelle swallowed down her emotions.

  Angus Rawleigh had kept his promise. He’d planned to whisk her away to the church and marry her today. Papa had decided at twenty-six she was far too old to be still unmarried, and didn’t want a lonely spinster hanging around.

  Besides, Angus had offered him a nice fat contract to take her off Papa’s hands. She was being bartered like a piece of meat.

  She swallowed hard and flattened herself against the side of the house when she heard voices travel from the kitchen out into the garden.

  “Have you seen Annabelle, Cook?” Angus’s voice grated on her, as she was certain it must grate on everyone else.

  “Oooh,” she heard cook say. “Not fer ages. Last time I seen ‘er she was in the parlor takin’ tea.”

  She heard the scurrying of footsteps, and took the opportunity to get away. She said a silent prayer for cook’s little white lies as cook always called them, then quietly opened the side gate to the street.

  She went slowly at first, but the memory of Angus trying to kiss her reminded Annabelle how important it was she leave.

  His disgusting breath had left her gagging and he pinched her arm for her trouble. Not gently – there was nothing gentle about Angus. He left an almighty bruise on her upper arm where no one else would ever see it.

  It wasn’t the first time either.

  Annabelle glanced back over her shoulder as she turned the corner, confirming the disgusting excuse for a man wasn’t following her. He was certainly capable of it.

  If he thought for one moment Annabelle was running from him, he’d do everything in his power to make sure she stayed put. She wouldn’t put it past him to hold her prisoner in her own home.

  As she hurried toward the train station, she recalled the first time he’d harmed her. She’d told Mama, showed her the bruises, and was alarmed when Mama shrugged and told her to stop resisting him.

  It was bad enough he was more than double her age, but he was also dirty, and he smelled. Annabelle figured he bathed once a month, if that. She couldn’t stand to have him anywhere near her, let alone have to sleep with him.

  The thought made her gag, and lucky she didn’t lose her breakfast.

  With the train station in sight, Annabelle ran the last part of her journey. The quicker she got off the streets and out of sight the better.

  She stared down into her fisted hands, suddenly remembering the notes cook had foisted into them. If Papa discovered cook had helped her, she’d lose her job. She prayed that didn’t happen.

  Sighing with relief as she stepped into the sanctuary of the train station, Annabelle headed to the ticket box.

  “Mornin’ Miss,” the ticket seller said. “Where you headed?”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead, and closed her eyes momentarily while she thought. “What is the farthest from here I can get?”

  ~*~

  Annabelle sat nervously on the platform waiting for her train to arrive. She’d been careless with her decision, and used far more of her money than she should have. Still, if it got her away from Angus and her uncaring parents, it was worth it.

  An older man sat on the hard wooden seat next to her reading the paper. She glanced over his shoulder out of boredom, but nothing interested her.

  Until she turned the page to the advertisements, that is.

  Mail-Order Bride Agency

  The heading was big and bold, and she couldn’t help but see it. Her heart pounded and she took it as a sign. “Excuse me, Sir,” she said, her voice shaky. “Would you mind if I borrowed your newspaper for a moment?”

  He stared at her for the longest of moments, and she was certain he would refuse her. “No, of course not, Miss.” He handed her the paper then stood. “I’ve finished with it anyway. You keep it.”

  “I, I can pay you for it,” she said quietly. He glared at her briefly, then his gaze softened. “No need,” he said, then strolled off to the other end of the platform. Her relief was palpable. She didn’t have a lot of money. Hopefully it was enough to see her through.

  Since Angus’s intentions had become clear, she’d saved her allowance and hidden it away where no one would find it.

  That would get her through until her journey ended. At least she hoped it would.

  She pulled her attention back to the newspaper advertisement.

  The more she read, the more interested she became. The mail-order bride agency was situated at Holly Hollow. Her train traveled through there, she was certain. She could disembark and make enquiries.

  Not that she was thrilled to consider marrying someone she’d never met, but she couldn’t do worse than marrying Angus Rawleigh. Could she?

  She shook her head. Of course she couldn’t. The man was revolting. Just because he had power and money didn’t mean he should act like a savage. The thought of him kissing her turned her stomach.

  Annabelle had to take several deep breaths to stop herself from emptying her stomach right there and then.

  “Miss.” She heard the words before she realized someone was standi
ng in front of her. “Do you have your ticket, Miss?” She glanced up to see a conductor standing before her.

  She held out her shaking hand and showed him the ticket.

  “This is your train, Miss,” he said. “Best climb aboard. The train will be leaving in five minutes.”

  She glanced up to see the magnificent machine in front of her. Steam filled the platform, and people scurried to climb aboard and claim their seats.

  The conductor was walking away. “Sir,” she said loudly, to ensure he heard her. “This train does stop at Holly Hollow, doesn’t it?”

  He stared at her, then nodded. “Yes, Miss, it does. But it’s not the sort of place I recommend for a refined young lady such as yourself.”

  She swallowed down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. What exactly did that mean? “Sir,” she called after him as he began his journey again. “If I leave the train, can I start my journey again?”

  He tugged at his ear. Was he tiring of her questions? “Yes, Miss, you can. But as I mentioned before, it’s not a nice town.” Before she had the chance to ask him anything more, he quickly moved on.

  Annabelle’s heart pounded. She really hadn’t thought this whole thing through, but she’d had little choice. Until the noon meal yesterday, she had no idea Angus intended to marry her today.

  It was the last thing she intended to do – she’d rather die than marry that repulsive man.

  She hurried onto the train and found her seat. The little old lady sitting opposite seemed friendly enough. She traveled with her granddaughter, which made Annabelle a little more comfortable.

  The driver sounded the whistle, and with a jolt and a shot of steam they were off. As much as this had to happen, Annabelle felt sorrow for the family she’d left behind. More than anyone, she would miss cook, who meant more than her own mother to her.

  Chapter Two

  Having never been on a train before, Annabelle had no idea what to expect. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the way the train rocked and jolted about all the time. She’d tried to sleep, but was concerned about being accosted and perhaps losing all her worldly goods in her carpetbag.

  By the time she arrived at Holly’s Hollow two days later, she felt as though she’d not slept for a week.

  After the warning given to her by the conductor back at Salsbury, Annabelle was more than a little wary about leaving the train. But the mail-order bride agency may be her only hope from staying far away from her disgusting betrothed.

  She pulled the torn advertisement out of her skirt pocket. Miss Martha Swanson was the agency owner, so Annabelle assumed it was Miss Swanson herself she would deal with.

  As it turned out, the agency was located not far from the train station. She had no allusions she would be stuck here until the next train arrived, which could be a matter of days. Thank goodness she had the good sense to put her allowance aside. Otherwise she would be in all sorts of difficulties.

  She made her way up the hill toward her destination, clutching the carpetbag to her chest. She’d heard of criminals snatching a lady’s bag right from her hands. If this place was anything like what the conductor had told her, it was highly likely to happen here.

  She glanced up at the large house with it’s pretty garden, and several steps to the door. It was an imposing looking place, and she had second thoughts about going inside. Annabelle took a deep breath. She’d come this far – she couldn’t back out now.

  Standing on the top step, she reached for the brass doorknocker. The snakehead on it put her off, but it was only decoration, after all.

  She’d no sooner knocked, than a woman Annabelle perceived to be around forty opened the door. She studied Annabelle for all of thirty seconds, perhaps more, before speaking.

  “Good morning. How may I help you?” She reached up with one finger and adjusted her spectacles. As though it had made a huge difference to what she saw, she suddenly frowned. “My goodness, you look an absolute wreck. Do come in.”

  She ushered Annabelle in the door, then offered her a seat in the office, which was off to the left as they walked down the hallway. The walls were covered with dainty flowers of pink and blue, with gold flecks running through them.

  In the corner was a large fireplace which was already lit. It was still quite early, so this surprised Annabelle. She stared at the flames that flickered in the early morning light.

  The house was quite large, as she’d determined from outside. But it was also rather sparse, and Annabelle determined Miss Swanson lived alone.

  It seemed rather strange she lived in such a large house alone.

  “You have a lovely home,” she said, trying to break the silence.

  Miss Swanson fiddled about with some papers on her desk. “It belonged to my parents. I’ve lived here my entire life.” She suddenly stood. “Would you prefer tea or coffee?”

  “Please don’t go to any trouble on my account,” Annabelle said, meaning every word.

  Miss Swanson stared at her, then walked away from the desk to stand in front of her. “So what will it be. I am having tea myself.”

  “Tea would be wonderful, thank you. Black, no sugar.”

  She disappeared before Annabelle could say another word but was back in record time. “The kettle was already boiling. I was about to make myself a cup when you arrived.” She placed a tray on the well-organized desk, and handed a cup to Annabelle. “Have a cookie. They’re fresh – I made them yesterday.”

  At first, she refused, but the woman insisted. “How much have you eaten today? You look rather pallid.” She pushed the plate of cookies forward again and Annabelle took one. A smile passed Miss Swanson’s mouth.

  Finally, after removing the tray to another part of the office, she sat opposite Annabelle.

  Not another word passed between them until the pair had finished their tea, and she’d ensured her visitor had eaten sufficient cookies to get her through for some hours.

  Finally, she spoke. “I assume you’ve come here for a husband.” It wasn’t a question, it was rather matter-of-fact, which unnerved Annabelle somewhat.

  Had she really done this? Was she so desperate to get away from Angus she stooped so low as to try and arrange a husband sight-unseen? The terrible truth was that she really was that desperate.

  “The man my father is trying to force me to marry is horrible. He is more than double my age, and,” she looked up at the matchmaker with tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath to stop them flowing. “He has harmed me on several occasions. I hate to think what it would be like after we married.”

  Miss Swanson studied her closely. Was she trying to decide if Annabelle was telling the truth. “I’m not lying!” she said defensively. “His breath smells too,” she said, then fiddled with her hands as they lay in her lap.

  The other woman straightened in her chair. “I am certain you’re not, my dear. What we do next is the thing.” She pulled a large pile of letters toward herself. “Where do you want to go? Do you know what sort of man you want for a husband?” She pulled out a few letters, and put them to one side.

  “I want to get as far away from Salsbury as I can. I, I can’t be found.”

  “Of course not. I’ll make sure of that. Don’t you despair.”

  Easier said than done, Annabelle thought, but didn’t say the words out loud.

  She watched as the woman sorted the large pile into three smaller piles. “North Dakota is out, so that eliminates that pile.” She placed them on a tray to the right of her desk. “I have several gentlemen from Montana looking for a bride.” She sorted them into two piles and glanced up again. “Would you prefer a small town, or something a little bigger? I’d go for bigger myself – it would make it harder to be found.”

  Annabelle frowned. The woman was probably right, but who was Annabelle to know? “Whatever you think is best,” she answered.

  “Bigger it is then.” She pushed yet another pile aside and rallied it to the same tray as before. She gazed at Annabelle th
en sighed. “It doesn’t leave a lot of candidates, but those remaining seem like lovely young men.” She held out five letters.

  “Can you choose for me?”

  Miss Swanson stared at her. “My dear girl, that’s not how it works.” She straightened in her chair again. “These five gentlemen are of varying ages and different occupations. However,” Annabelle hung on her every word. “They all live in the same town. Well, it is becoming more of a city it’s growing at such a rapid rate.” She pushed the letters toward Annabelle. “Read them and make a decision.”

  Having grown up the way she had in a rich man’s home, she’d been sheltered all her life. Until now, the biggest decision Annabelle had made each day was which gown she would wear. More often than not her maid had made the decision for her. She sighed.

  With great trepidation, Annabelle reached out and snatched one of the letters. “This one,” she said, her voice shaking.

  Miss Swanson’s eyes opened wide. “My dear girl, that is not how we choose a husband.” She wriggled her shoulders and sat further back in her chair. “There is a selection process one must follow.”

  Annabelle swallowed. “My decision is made.” She lifted her chin and stared at her hostess, then swallowed. Was coming here even a good decision, let alone choosing a husband the way she had?

  “Do you know when the train comes through town again?” Her decision made, she was now ready to leave.

  “Not until tomorrow, I’m afraid. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

  Annabelle opened up her reticule and counted out her money in front of the older woman. “I think I should have enough for a night in a hotel.”

  Miss Swanson stood and stared at the few notes in Annabelle’s hands. “You will drain the little money you have, I’m afraid.” She lifted her empty cup and reached out for guest’s cup too. “You will stay with me tonight, and I’ll see you safely on the train tomorrow. Follow me.”

  Annabelle was filled with dread. She couldn’t stay and marry Angus, but was she going from one bad man to another?