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The Widower's Christmas Wish Page 2
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Would he just take her brooch without paying? She swallowed hard.
“Make me an offer, Sir,” she said, her heart racing and her hands clammy.
He pulled a bundle of notes from under the counter. “It’s the best I can do.”
Against her better judgement, she shook her head. “It’s not enough for... what I need,” she said, and turned to walk away.
She knew it was a bad idea coming here. So why did she do it? Because she was desperate, and she knew it.
“Wait!” he bellowed at her as she opened the door to leave.
As she stared at him, he leaned down and snatched up another handful of notes. “Will this be enough? I can’t offer you anymore. Stolen jewelry is difficult to sell.”
“It’s not stolen,” she spat. “I told you, it was a gift.” She snatched the additional money from his hands and with reluctance passed over the sparkling diamond brooch. Her favorite. “It’s enough for what I need.” She pushed the notes into her pocketbook and fled from the disarming store.
She almost ran from the alleyway and leaned against a wall, trying to catch her breath. Tomorrow Charlotte would buy her train ticket to Dayton Falls, Montana.
* * *
“It’s highly unusual,” Miss Bethany said. “But these are dire circumstances.”
Charlotte nodded. “I have my railway ticket, and I’ll leave in the morning. Otherwise, I’ll be married to that vile man in two days.”
She straightened her back. She wouldn’t cry in front of this kind lady again.
“He won’t know you’re coming. You haven’t even had time to answer his letter.” Miss Bethany paced the floor. “This is highly unusual,” she said again, her voice getting higher with every sentence she spoke.
“I’ll just try and find him once I’ve arrived,” Charlotte said. “The town can’t be that big.”
Miss Bethany stared at her open-mouthed. “You can’t be serious? You must be collected, you can’t go wandering around in a strange place.” She put her hand to her head. “Just let me think a minute or two.”
She stood still for a moment, then continued to pace the room.
“Oh, I have an idea,” she said, grinning broadly. “Show me your ticket, Charlotte.”
Charlotte handed over the ticket, and Miss Bethany wrote down the details.
“I shall send a telegram and let him know when you’re arriving.” She stared at Charlotte as if looking for acceptance of her idea.
Charlotte nodded, relieved everything was in order.
* * *
Charlotte packed as much of her clothing into her overnight bag as she could manage.
She needed to have at least two changes of day dresses, and of course, undergarments. But she had to travel light. When she snuck out of the house at the crack of dawn, she would have no one to carry her bags, and indeed, she didn’t want any help.
She dare not utilize any of the servants, as that would implicate them when her parents discovered she was gone.
She looked around her huge bedroom. She’d spent most of her life in this room. As Miss Bethany had said, she was very privileged. Not many young women of her age enjoyed the luxuries she’d had endowed on her. Indeed, most women of any age did not receive the indulgences she saw as normal.
She opened drawers and cupboards, deciding what she needed to take. She was going to miss all this, and she knew her new life would be very different to her current life.
And yet, she knew she had to leave.
She must leave, and the time to leave was near. She had no choice.
* * *
Charlotte headed to the railway station at the crack of dawn.
The house was quiet, which meant she had to be extra careful not to make a sound. The trip to Montana was going to be long and tiring. She couldn’t imagine how awful she would smell after several days on the train! She was pleased she’d packed her lavender water.
She slid through the night like a cat burglar, not wanting anyone to know she’d been there.
It was eerie at that early hour. More eerie than she’d anticipated. Charlotte had never been outside at this ungodly hour and hoped she never did again.
By the time she arrived at the train station, she was petrified. Every sound, every movement startled her. In nearly every case it was either birds or other creatures such as cats, going about their nocturnal business.
She was in near-panic by the time she found the correct platform but straightened her back as she’d been taught to do. It wouldn’t do to have others see her slouching.
At the last moment she thought to adjust her bonnet, to cover her face. The last thing she needed was for someone to recognize her and tell her father where she was headed.
“All aboard!”
Charlotte gasped. She hadn’t realized how late it was already and hurried to her carriage. The conductor checked her ticket and let her pass.
She walked up and down the aisle until she found her seat. Once seated she held her bag tightly on her lap. It contained all her worldly possessions and she didn’t know what she’d do without them.
She stared out the window and saw people running. Her train was about to depart. Charlotte Montgomery was about to begin her new life.
* * *
Miss Bethany sent the following telegram three hours after Charlotte’s train departed:
To Sheriff Angus Doyle, Dayton Falls, Montana.
Miss Charlotte Montgomery arriving Monday 4 o’clock stop
please collect from train station stop
situation dire stop
Signed Miss Bethany Wilde – Westlake Mail Order Bride Agency
Angus read the note over and over again. “But, but I don’t know anything about her,” he said to his sister. “I haven’t had a chance to tell her about young Emma either.”
He screwed up the telegram as he sunk down into a chair. “What am I going to do now?”
Abigail stared at him. “What you are going to do, dear brother, is collect her from the station on Monday afternoon.”
“So much for not getting a mail order bride,” she said under her breath.
He glared at her. “I heard that. Besides, you left me no choice. What else was I going to do?”
Abigail shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea. But what’s done is done. Looks like you’re getting married on Monday.”
“Get in the cell, you filthy...” The deputy stared at Abigail. “Sorry Miss Abigail. I didn’t know you was there.”
Abigail smiled, then hugged her brother. “I better let you get back to work. I can’t wait to meet your bride,” she said, then left the Sheriff’s Office smiling.
Chapter Two
Sheriff Angus Doyle arrived at the station a little later than anticipated. There was always some riff-raff there to mess up his day.
He looked about trying to spot his soon-to-be-bride but had no luck. He had no idea what she looked like, and no way to identify her.
He stood on the platform and waited for the crowd to disperse.
Then waited.
And waited.
As the station cleared, he was becoming concerned. He unruffled the telegram he’d screwed up and checked the day and time. Yep, this was the right train.
He frowned.
After about fifteen minutes more Sheriff Doyle decided to investigate. He approached the conductor, and together they began to search the carriages.
The third carriage yielded results. They found a young woman sound asleep in her compartment, holding tightly to her carpetbag.
Angus stood over her, looking her up and down.
Her blonde hair was somewhat disheveled but pulled back into a plait. Her clothes were splattered with soot, but her face was pure white.
The scent of lavender water filled his nostrils.
She was beautiful, but pale and drawn. He wasn’t sure if that was a result of the long trip, or whether she was ill.
He felt guilty for thinking it, but how could she look
after Emma if she was ill? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought.
“Miss, wake up,” the conductor said.
She didn’t budge.
“Miss,” he said more loudly. “You need to wake up Miss.”
He looked to the sheriff.
“Charlotte?” Sheriff Doyle said rather assertively. When that didn’t work he touched her shoulder. “Charlotte, wake up,” he yelled.
“Wha...?”
The young woman woke in a fright.
“Are you Charlotte Montgomery,” Angus asked.
She rubbed at her eyes and looked up at the two men standing over her,
“I, I’m Charlotte Montgomery,” she said warily, then looked him up and down. “Ooooh, you’re the sheriff!”
She looked mighty pleased to see him, which warmed his heart.
He’d planned to whisk her off to the preacher, and for the pair to marry immediately. But that was put on hold. There was no way he could marry her like this. Her clothes needed to be cleaned up, and her hair was a mess.
He reached over and grabbed her bag. Her grip was strong, and she didn’t want to let go. “I’ll take your bag, Miss Montgomery.”
Her lips parted slightly, and she nodded, but still held tight.
He zoned in on those lips and took a deep breath. It was so long since he’d been with a woman. He had to remember she was here to look after his daughter – that was her main reason for being here. At least in his mind.
Still, having a wife did have other benefits.
“I have a wagon out front. We should leave.” He dipped his hat, thanked the conductor, and helped Charlotte to her feet.
“First things first,” he told her. “You probably need a long hot bath.”
She nodded again. If he hadn’t heard her speak earlier, he’d think her mute.
“I’ll take you to Mrs Foggerty’s boarding house. You can have a bath there and sleep the night.” He led her out to the wagon, and held her around her tiny waist, helping her up the steps. “Can’t get married with you looking like this,” he told her.
Angus wondered how long it was since she’d eaten.
Once she was settled, he climbed up and they started their journey.
They traveled through the center of town, and it wasn’t long before they arrived at Mrs Foggerty’s boarding house. “Wait here,” Angus told her. “I’ll check if there are any rooms available.”
He was halfway off the wagon when Charlotte spoke. “I thought I’d be staying with you,” she said quietly.
He was shocked to say the least. “Not until we’re married, Miss Montgomery,” he said abruptly.
Her face fell, and he thought she was going to turn on the water works, but to his surprise, she didn’t.
He knocked on the door, and Mrs Foggerty opened the door slightly and looked out. “Ah Angus! Good afternoon to you.”
She pulled the door open wider and stared at the young woman on the wagon. “This is Miss Charlotte Montgomery,” Angus told the elderly woman. “She’s to be my bride,” he said. “She’s had a long trying voyage.”
“Then I shall get her cleaned up and presentable. When is the ceremony?”
The sheriff’s face relaxed. “It was to be shortly, but I can’t take my bride to the preacher looking like this.”
He stared across at Charlotte and watched as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Not that it’s her fault,” he said loudly. “Those trains make such a mess of the passengers.” He winked at Mrs Foggerty. He was certain she understood his intentions.
He didn’t want his bride to be upset with him.
“Righto then. Bring her in, Angus.”
He had known Mrs Foggerty for as long as he could remember. She’d been an old lady when he was a young tacker. At least to his mind.
He hated to think how old she was now and had no intentions of asking her.
She would sort out his new bride, and ensure she was presentable for the ceremony tomorrow.
He reached up and held her by the waist, then lifted her gently to the ground. She stood in front of him and stared into his eyes – hers were mesmerizing, and he was frozen to the spot.
If Mrs Foggerty hadn’t been standing nearby, he didn’t know what might have happened. He reached up and grabbed the carpetbag that had been clutched so tightly earlier.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing Mrs Foggerty some coins.
She nodded, took Charlotte in hand, then guided her into the house.
* * *
It all happened so quickly.
Charlotte’s mind was in a whirl. One minute she was sitting in that ghastly train, then she was atop a wagon, and now she was in a stranger’s house.
“Florence Foggerty, my dear,” the older woman said. “This is your room for the night. Get yourself settled, and then I’ll organise a nice hot bath for you.”
She fiddled with her skirts, then turned to leave the room. “I’ll collect you shortly, Miss Montgomery.” She then turned to leave the room.
“Miss Foggerty,” Charlotte said quietly. The older woman turned to back toward her. “I’m sorry I look so horrid. I’ve been on that wretched train for days.”
The older woman nodded. “Don’t you worry, my dear. Your groom understands, that’s why he brought you here.”
Charlotte opened the carpetbag to ensure her possessions were all still there. She lay her two dresses out on the bed, hoping to remove the creases. She’d never seen her clothing so disheveled.
She had to wear one of those dresses as her wedding gown. It was incomparable to the gown her mother was having made, but one of these would have to do. She had no other choice.
For a moment, Charlotte wondered if Mother and Father were worried about her. She didn’t care what that awful Mr Rainer thought. She was just relieved that she’d escaped his horrid clutches.
Charlotte was startled by a tap on the door a short time later. “May I enter?”
She opened the door.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you really are a mess my dear.” She retreated from the room. “Follow me. We’ll get you cleaned up and looking beautiful for your new husband.” She smiled, the first time Charlotte had seen anything except a scowl.
“He’s a wonderful man, our sheriff,” she said. “You won’t be sorry.” She took Charlotte to a small room off the kitchen and closed the door behind them.
“It looks heavenly,” Charlotte exclaimed. She was bone weary and couldn’t think of anything more appealing right now.
The bath was full of bubbles, and she put her hand in the water to feel the temperature. “Oooh, it’s very hot!”
Mrs Foggerty frowned. “And you, my dear, are very dirty.”
She handed Charlotte a towel and a face towel and left the room.
Charlotte let her filthy clothes slide to the floor. She put first one foot, then the other into the hot soapy water, then slid down beneath the bubbles.
Heaven.
She let her hair down and slid below the water and washed it. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so wretched. And to be called dirty? She cringed.
Mother would have a fit.
She saturated the face cloth and cleaned her face. She looked down into the now putrid water. Was she really that dirty?
She felt the heat creep up her face. What must Angus Doyle think of her? No wonder he wasn’t prepared to marry her like that. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought.
She was a young woman from a well-to-do Wyoming family. At least he wasn’t aware of that fact. He would be disgusted.
Charlotte sobbed. Perhaps he already was.
She gasped.
Would he even come back for her?
If he didn’t, what would she do then? She had no skills to speak of. She could only bake because cook would sneak her into the kitchen when Mother wasn’t around.
“Supper’s almost ready, Charlotte. Miss Montgomery. Are you alm
ost finished?”
She wanted to stay there forever. She felt relaxed in that wonderful bath, but she had to get out sometime. “Coming Mrs Foggerty. I won’t be long, I promise.”
* * *
Charlotte brushed her hair and tied it back.
Today was the day she was getting married. She could barely believe she was a mail order bride. She’d heard of such things, but never dreamed she’d be so desperate as to become one herself.
But when one needed to get out of a dire situation, it was a good alternative.
She stood in the middle of the room in her chemise and drawers, with both dresses laid out on the bed.
“Charlotte, my dear,” Mrs Foggerty called. “Are you almost ready? The sheriff will be here any minute now!”
Charlotte gasped. “I, I can’t decide which dress to wear.”
She opened the door a crack and looked around at the other woman. “Can you help me choose, please?”
Just then, there was a knock at the front door.
“Oh my gosh, it’s the sheriff,” Mrs Foggerty exclaimed. “You can’t come in, she’s not ready!” She peered around the door and Charlotte jumped back so her groom couldn’t see her in her state of undress.
“That is so kind of her,” she heard the older woman say. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”
She heard mumblings from Angus but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Then the door was tightly closed.
“You’ll never believe this, my dear,” Mrs Foggerty said as she opened the bedroom door slightly. “May I come in? I come bearing gifts.”
Charlotte could hear the joy in her voice. “I prayed for a miracle for you, and Our Dear Lord answered.”
Mrs Foggerty pushed a large box toward her. “Open it, my dear.” She was grinning broadly.
Charlotte gently lifted the lid and peaked inside. “Oh my! It’s a wedding dress!” She was speechless and stood there staring.
“It belongs to the sheriff’s sister. She wanted you to have a proper wedding dress.” She patted Charlotte’s hand. “That was very kind of her.”
They pulled the dress out of the box, and Charlotte held it up against herself. “I think it might fit,” she said quietly.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the dress up around herself.