ROMANCE: Badass Boss (Billionaire Alpha Bad Boy Romance) (Western Mail Order Bride Calendar Contemporary) (18 page)

Chapter 3

A Future In A Posting

Young, educated, hard-working, an excellent housekeeper, and 20 years of age, this young beauty will make any young suitor a happy partner. Seeking a man of good financial means, good appearance and amicable.

These words sat next to Elizabeth’s name. The fact that such a short paragraph seemed to sum up her life made her feel cheap and replaceable by any other woman, but she washed this feeling away and cleansed herself of it, much like a hot bath does to a dirty body.

Once published, Anna had made her famous apple pie, and as a family they reminisced about all the good times they had in that home together on their modest front porch. They recollected their memories like old scrap book pages, and Elizabeth found herself and her heart strings being tugged, like an old child’s game of tug of war. He had father brewed some ale and together they had eaten pie and drank, laughing about Christmases that had passed and Thanksgiving days.

She was reminded of the time that she had embroidered Anna a beautiful quilt. It had taken her many weeks. Elizabeth had accidentally put it near Mary’s gifts and Mary had loved it dearly. It had taken the family a few days to break the news to Mary, and so Elizabeth spent her nights making Mary one as well out of guilt. At the time, it had seemed tedious, but provided a sense of laughter and a family joke.

Elizabeth had begun to debate if this really was a good idea, now that push had come to shove; the typical indecisive nature of a 20 year old. As she looked around the porch, she realized her life would change immensely and her Thanksgivings and Christmases would be centered around a new man, not her father. Elizabeth wiped a silent tear away from her cheek.

“Or, how about the time Frances tried teach us tricks on the horses? Oh, how hard he tried! And Mary kept stumbling and falling off, but he caught her every time!” And this was exactly had Frances had been, their savior, especially Elizabeth’s, always saving them while guiding them like the light at the end of a tunnel.

Similarly, this was also the sign that Elizabeth needed to prove to her that this decision was correct; this entire home and farm reminded her of Frances, her first true best friend and innocent love.

The family had laughed as Anna had told that story, but the truth hung there like a cold winter frost: Frances was here, within these walls, but was never coming back home to them.

Elizabeth had taken the time after that to slowly pace upstairs, tipsy from the ale, and pack her one suitcase with her best dresses and bonnets. She placed her brush, homemade perfume, favorite soaps and a few books alongside her dresses. Lastly, she placed in the only picture she had of her family and the last letter Frances had written to her from the war prior to passing. As she closed the suitcase, she realized that similarly, she was closing this portion in her life.

Mary and Anna had snuck into her room and had asked if they could have their last slumber party, just as they had done as children. She had grinned and held open her arms, embraced by her sisters as they welcomed the night.

“You are the only one who can do this,” Mary had whispered before falling asleep, and Elizabeth had smiled to the moon, knowing in her heart this was true.

Chapter 4

A Future In A Glance

Elizabeth had decided to wear exactly the same dress and bonnet she had envisioned herself wearing when she had first heard of this opportunity. She sat on the train, nervous and excited, awaiting the arrival of the West and all the promises it had within its bends and folds and peaks of its mountains.

Her father had placed a small amount of money in her hand, in case of emergencies, and this had left her with some safety and comfort from home. Her sisters and mother had cried uncontrollably, but she had stood strong, kissing each of them on a cheek, promising to bring her beau back once things were settled. 

She had taken a bit of the money her father had given her at the train depot and bought herself a small journal. She figured this trip would certainly be something to write about, and also realized that this journal would be her only friend for quite a bit of time until acclimated and comfortable in her new home.

Her father had received a bit of news that her husband was, as he had requested, of “good financial means.” The home she would be living in was doubled in size of her family’s home, placed on a large lot, and the promise of marble floors and golden chandeliers hung in her future (or, so was promised). Elizabeth was well aware of the fact that any man could promise her father anything, and that she could easily be living in a home much less luxurious, or even one of bare means.

Thoughts ran through her mind about who this man was as a person. All she had been given was a name: James Black, and she had rolled her new name, Elizabeth Black, around in her mouth until it began to sound normal or at least acceptable to her. She wondered about his hair and eye color, body built, what he thought about when he couldn’t sleep, what made him happy, what made him angered, what was his biggest mistake in life, who was his hero, and even wondered what his lips would feel like upon her own.

Her stomach turned in knots at this last thought especially, as the only person she had even kissed before was a young neighbor boy. They had both been curious as to what it had felt like, lips joining together, and had snuck into her barn and exchanged a quick kiss before dinnertime. His lips had been soft like a gentle breeze and she had enjoyed it, until his hot tongue had pushed through her lips and found its way into her mouth. She had gasped and jumped back, smacking him in the face.

“What!? That’s what boys do!” his falsely bravado 16 year old voice yelled. Her own innocence at the same age had never allowed her to imagine that there could be vulgarity behind a kiss. 

“Disgusting!” she had yelled.

“Why, was I bad?” he has asked, wide-eyed.

“I can’t imagine anyone being good at it,” she had said back. He looked hurt and then she saw his eyes change. His hand shot up as he grabbed a breast of hers quickly. At this, she had shoved him and ran out of the barn.

She hoped now that James would be more understanding and loving, gentle and sensitive. Again, there were no promises in this. She decided that this would be an ample time to begin writing in her journal, to express herself and her thoughts and become comfortable in this practice; one that she would normally go to her sisters or France about.

I sit here on the train that will bring me, however quickly or slowly, into my next world and life. I am scared, anxious, excited and happy about the promises that lie ahead. What will James Black be like?  What will I be like as a young wife, a lover, a friend, a housekeeper, and, one day, a mother?

She put her pencil down, looking out the window and pondering all the possibilities that lay before her.

It didn’t seem long, although surely it was, until she heard the bell of the train ring, alarming and waking her from a deep sleep.

“Boise, Idaho!” a conductor’s voice rang out. She quickly wiped the sleep away from her eyes and jumped up, grabbing her suitcase and quickly shoving her journal into it.

She walked out on the platform, looking around for her soon-to-be-husband. She had no idea how to find him, and hoped that the lost expression on her face would help him find her.

As she looked around, she saw a sturdy man, in a three piece gray suit and hat, smoking a rather large pipe, holding up a sign that read her name. Her heart thumped inside her chest. She stood for a moment, inspecting the man that was the gateway to her future, but was disappointed that he was too far away to get a good look. There was no turning back now, so with similar bravery to her brother, she stepped, one foot in front of the other, until she reached Mr. James Black.

Chapter 5

A Portrait Of James Black

James Black could easily be described as a man’s man. His father had been a hard worker, but stern man, and when James’ mother had died while giving birth to his youngest brother, James’ father continued to become more and more reserved within himself, pouring himself continually into his job as the owner of a large estate, mending to and selling crops.

Although ultimately grateful for his father’s hard-working attitude now as an adult, as it had instilled the same in James and furthermore, had left James a nice lump sum upon his death, as a child, it had been very difficult as he had been left to raise his younger brothers. He would provide them with chores and then provide them with disciplinary actions if they did not complete these chores. He would read to them at night from books that he enjoyed, as he was an avid reader himself.

At a young age, he had realized how his looks, primarily his large, dark eyes, could really convince anyone of anything. There were often times that he would steal candy from the neighborhood store and when confronted, he would smile, eyes as big as craters and dimples on either side of a convincing smile, and he was scolded and told to go home; no punishment ever ensued.

It was this attitude that had gotten him into a lot of trouble as an adolescent, breaking girls’ hearts, then winning them back, just to break them again. For a long time, he had no remorse about it at all, until his reputation began to supersede him.

Years into his mischief, there had been one night that he had been approached by one of the girl’s brothers, who had asked him if he was James Black. When James had replied that he was, his face was met with the brother’s first and as he lay in the dirt, bleeding from his nose, the brother had stood over him and spat on him.

“You’re filth. Your mother should’ve raised you better.” Those words resonated within him and sent a deep chill down his spine. Of course, this brother had no idea that his mother wasn’t around to raise him at all, and this fact left with him such an immense sense of guilt, that he vowed to change. He had only ever wanted to make his mother proud, and it had become clear to him that the way he was treating young girls was not a way in which she would smile upon.

He had tried to be honest and buy some of the girls he had wronged flowers, but he was met with tears that he didn’t know what to do with, or smacks across the face that embarrassed him. One girl had even clung to his shoulders and sobbed so loudly that she had woken her father. Scared for his life, he had flung her away and ran, hearing her yell at him that if he had changed, he would’ve held her well into the night while she cried.

He had decided, after that night, to take a hiatus from women for a few months and return when he felt refreshed and collected. He had devoured his work, working from sunrise to sunset, and sleeping soundly after a quick meal alone every night.

One night, while reading, he had come across a mail-order bride ad and one girl, out of the whole lot, had been described as both beautiful and educated. He told himself that his new, redeemed self shouldn’t focus on the beauty aspect, so he had closed the reading.

However, the next night, her description had kept with him and he had decided it was time to settle down. He had the means, and together they would grow and help one another out. Plus, who better to turn a scoundrel into an honest man than an educated beauty from outside these lands who had no idea of his past or present?

Chapter 6

The Love Of Strangers

When Elizabeth had gotten closer to James, she felt her body react immediately, a quick pulse and quickening of her heart, as she set her eyes on a tall, well built, dark eyed man about the same age as her. She saw an expensive gold watch on his wrist as he lifted his hand to take his pipe out of his mouth, and smiled, revealing two distinct dimples on either side of his face. His face looked understanding and gentle, as if he could whisper that the weather was beautiful as they stood outside in a downpour of rain and hail.

“Hello, I’m Elizabeth,” she said breathlessly. She coughed, needing a moment to clear her throat and gather her thoughts. She felt herself begin to perspire.

“Hello Elizabeth! I’m James,” he said, happily, as he grabbed for her suitcase. She smiled.

“Hello James, so very nice to meet you.” He stuck out an arm and she wrapped her hands through his bent elbow.

“You as well. Shall we stop inside for a drink? You must be parched.”

“I’m quite famished as well,” she mentioned and at this he had laughed, his smile broadening against his face. He admired her honesty and felt his own heart tumble in his chest as her soft and delicate white hand lay upon his arm. She was truly stunning, a natural beauty. The kind of girl you wake up next to and reminds you of the purity of the world; a girl whose looks sing to sunflowers, bees and fresh spring rain. Her body felt like molasses against his, and he wanted to stick her body all over his immediately upon meeting her.

He felt the urge to hold her delicate head in his hands, using his masculine hands to pull back her straw blond hair and kiss her tenderly. He shook his head of these thoughts, as he reminded himself of the trouble he was trying to avoid and change.

They took a seat inside and told one another of their lives and families. Amidst the awkward pauses, they began to fall into a nice pattern with one another, even laughing a few times at a joke or situation the other discussed. For a moment, their eyes met and she blushed.

“Shall we go home? I can’t wait to show you the place,” he had stated and she nodded, grabbing her suitcase. He placed his hand on hers, his warmth radiating throughout her body, and had insisted on taking the luggage himself.