Romance: Western Mail Order Bride "Bethany's Love"-Clean Christian Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series) (160 page)

“Here, drink this. It will make you feel better. You’re looking mighty pale, I don’t mind telling you. I don’t like it. I don’t care for that look. It isn’t pretty. It’s not what I want from my wife.”

He was pushing a glass of some kind of dark, disgusting liquid towards her with an odor so foul it made her mouth fill with saliva the way it did right before she was going to get sick.  She thought it was whiskey, but she couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t a drinker and if there was a worse time to start, she couldn’t think of one. She needed to keep her wits about her. If there was any chance of her getting out of this instead of being dragged back to her uncle’s massive, dreary house, keeping her wits about her was imperative.

“No, thank you. I-I don’t think I would like it. I don’t like the smell.”

“Drink it,” he commanded with a voice that reminded her that he was not accustomed to being refused. She was afraid of what he might do if she refused again and so she pulled the glass closer to her, taking the smallest sip she could possibly manage. It felt like fire going down her throat and she wondered to herself why in the world anyone would put a thing like this in his or her body on purpose?  But Jack was beginning to talk again and she knew that she needed to hear what he was saying. Maybe if she could keep him talking she could figure out a way to get herself out of this mess.

“I bet you’re wondering how I found you, aren’t you? That’s what
I
would be wondering, if I were you.”

“Yes,” she said quietly, wishing that she didn’t care so much. “I am.”

“It was your mother. She really can come in handy, and when I least expect it, too.”

“But how?”

“It was your letters. Oh, come now, why the look of surprise? You weren’t half so clever as you thought you were. Or perhaps you just left in too big of a hurry to do a clean sweep of your dismal little room. But you left one of your letters there and after you vanished your mother found it. She turned that little hovel upside down looking for some kind of evidence of where you were. She can be very helpful when properly motivated.”

“Motivated?”

“Sure. Apparently the threat of losing every pathetic little thing that she owns was motivation enough. She found the address on the envelopes being sent to you. She brought them to me, and the rest is history, so to speak.”

“But
why
?” she asked desperately, understanding the how but still struggling to wrap her head around the concept. “I don’t understand. Why come all of this way just for me? You’ve got so much money, uncle, enough money to get whatever you like,
whoever
you like. Why can’t you just let me be happy?”

“Because,” he said in a low, threatening growl, “you’re
mine
. You belong to me and I don’t like to lose what’s mine. I don’t like to lose,
period
. You don’t get to run away from me.  You don’t get to tell me no. And for what? For some dirty rancher out in the middle of nowhere?  There is absolutely nothing he has that you need.”

“What about love?”

“Love,” he spat with a depressing amount of disgust. “What a silly, childish notion. No matter. You’ll be rid of it soon. I doubt you’ll hold onto that need for love once we return home.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the sound of him slamming his fist on the bar stopped her cold. He threw back his rather large drink and then grabbed her by the arm again.  He pulled her up, her muscles screaming at the way he tugged on them, without any regard to what he might be doing to her, and started to drag her towards the stairs. This had been her worst fear, that he would have a room here, that he would take her to it. If he got her up those stairs her hope would be lost for good and these last weeks truly would be nothing more than a dream.  Two, three, she counted the stairs as she went up them, the steps to her doom. Five, six. Only a few more to go now. How silly she had been to think she could have anything else but this.

“Excuse me!  I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

Somehow Jack just knew that the booming voice was talking to him and he started to laugh before he even turned around. He was right, it
was
for him. Meg knew it, too. She would have known that voice anywhere, although she had no idea how he had found her. She practically sobbed with relief and began to tug against him, to try and wrench her arm free.  Surprised, his grip loosened and she heard him mutter words not usually used in front of girls like her before he turned around to face his challenger. As he turned, his grip loosened even further and with one final push, Meg found that she was free. She flew back down the stairs, knowing exactly how many she had climbed and how close she had gotten to the point of no return, and ran into Charles’s open, waiting arms. He kissed the top of her head gently but his eyes never left the angry figure of uncle Jack.

“You should be going, old man. You aren’t welcome in this town anymore.”

“Is that right? And who's going to make me leave? Last time I checked, this town didn’t belong to you. And in case Meg hasn’t told you already, I’ve got enough money to convince anyone in this pitiful place to do whatever I want. Haven’t you heard? Money talks.”

It was a saying that Meg had heard before and one that she was sure was true in four out of five cases. Unfortunately for uncle Jack, the case he had found himself in was number five.  All around the bar, men began to rise. Some had weapons on their person and some had only their menacing expressions, but all of them moved behind Charles and Meg to create an actual wall of opposition should Jack try anything stupid. 

“That may be true where you’re from,” Charles said in a strong voice that made Meg proud to call him her own, “but in this town loyalty talks louder. Now, I’m going to ask you to leave one more time, and if you refuse me things are going to get ugly.”

“And what makes you think that I won’t just come back when you aren’t expecting it?”

“Nothing. But by the time you come back she will be my wife, and I can tell you right now, I plan to keep my family protected.”

Meg could see that her uncle was practically bursting with rage, but he was a shrewd man and he knew when he was beat. He stormed down the stairs, more of that foul language sticking to him as he went, and pushed through her wall of champions. They swallowed him up, made him obsolete, and then it was like he had never been there at all.  She was safe,
really
safe this time, and she could feel tears of gratitude and overwhelming joy begin to spill down her cheeks. 

She turned to Charles and smiled as he wiped her tears away.

“What is it, darling? Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just that, well, you’re him. You’re really him.”

“I’m who?”

“My prince charming. My knight in shining armor. I can’t think of anyone else I would rather marry, not anyone in the world.”

He said nothing in return, but the kiss he planted on her told her that he very much felt the same.

THE END

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Chapter 1

Life had always been good to me. I was the type of woman who had never wanted for much. I grew up in the beautiful town of Richmond, Virginia. Many people have called Richmond God’s Land. The grass was green and the streams ran with fresh, cool water. I much preferred it to the bustling city of New York.

My father was a wealthy investor who always had a hand in the banks. He was a popular man who’d been invited to the mayor’s home for dinner on more than one occasion. Michael Monroe and his family were well-known throughout the area and I wasn’t exempt from that. Moving to Virginia didn’t change much of anything. People quickly learned who we were and soon we were in the good graces of the locals.

Richmond was larger than many of the other Southern cities, but it was still small compared to New York. Then again, I think anything would be considered small if it was stacked up next to New York. I didn’t mind, however. I enjoyed the break from the loud, smog-filled streets. A woman could breathe out here and get closer to God.

Who am I, you ask? Madison Monroe. The apple of my father’s eye and an only child. It was rare in these times for a family to have only one child, but my parents had never wanted a large family. They’d both grown up poor and had twenty one brothers and sisters between the two of them. It made family gatherings rather complicated.

Rather than having as many children as possible, my parents dedicated all of their time to one child and it seemed to be paying off. I was a happy girl and I grew into a happy woman. We went to church together, prayed together, and ate dinner together every night. We really were a story book family.

Everything was perfect. We were happy and we were thriving. I thanked God every day for my family and I honestly thought that it would stay like this forever. That was the naïve thinking of a girl who was barely eighteen.

The South is known for its storms and while we’d only lived in Richmond for a little over five years, we’d seen our share of cascading rainstorms. I actually thought them to be rather beautiful, though that would soon change.

My parents were used to the storms, and when they received an invitation to the mayor’s mansion, they weren’t going to turn him down just because the weather was bad. They got into the carriage and set off down the road. I stood at the porch and waved, smiling and blissfully unaware that I was never going to see them again.

They didn’t return that night. A flash flood made travel impossible and they became stranded. I couldn’t know exactly what happened, but it seemed that they got out of the carriage to try and escape the flooding and were swept away down the river and drowned.

That night I inherited my parents’ assets and estate as well as a tremendous amount of guilt and sadness. Everything felt wrong after that. I went through my days in a blur and soon fell into the care of my soon-to-be husband. Marriage was different in those days. I’d been promised to a wealthy banker years ago and now that I was of marrying age it was time to settle down.

My sadness didn’t seem to matter to my future husband. He wasn’t concerned with comforting me or trying to make me feel better. He was far more concerned with starting our family and transferring my parents’ assets to his accounts.

I gave him the house, but I wanted to stay in control of the rest of my parents’ fortune. Something about Jeremy made me wary. I didn’t want him controlling the money my parents left for me, though I knew that as soon as we were married everything would be his. I dreaded that day more than I cared to admit, though I couldn’t quite understand why.

I sighed softly and looked out the window as a spring storm left small puddles just outside. Birds fluttered and splashed around in them and I couldn’t prevent the soft smile that graced my lips. Spring in Richmond was so beautiful. Flowers were starting to bloom and the trees were unbelievably green. Days like this made me long for my mother. When she was alive it was days like this when we would sit beside the fire and work on our needlepoint while father read. Days like this had a comfortable silence.

The sound of footsteps upstairs broke me from my memories and I frowned softly, standing and gathering my long periwinkle dress in my delicate fingers. I checked my blonde locks in the mirror, ensuring that I looked presentable. Even if it was only Jeremy, I still needed to look as pretty as possible. He always prized my beauty. I wasn’t a vain woman but he was a vain man who wanted a beautiful wife. God had instructed wives to be dutiful, so I had to obey his wishes.

I wandered down to the kitchen to make some tea before setting it on a tray so that I could bring it upstairs. I made sure to make extra in case my fiancé brought guests. As I approached the door to his study I could hear two separate voices speaking. I recognized one voice as Jeremy’s but I couldn’t place the other one.

“Is everything set?”

“Everything is ready, sir. Our…problem will be taken care of shortly.”

My brows furrowed as the men spoke and I found myself unsure of what was being discussed. The steps came closer to the door and I held my breath, quickly ducking into a room down the hall. I suddenly had some questions that I knew could only be answered if I could get into my fiancé’s office. He kept anything and everything he considered important in there. I held my breath and waited.

“Thank you for all of your help. I’m glad we could handle this in a discreet manner.”

“Of course, my friend. Anything you need, you just tell me.”

The man with my husband spoke in a strange accent I couldn’t place. My brow furrowed a little and I heard the men walk away, their steps fading and becoming more and more quiet as they disappeared down the hall to the foyer.

Once I was sure both men were out of the house, I set my tea tray down and all but ran across the hall, closing the door behind me. He always kept his office closed and something in my chest told me that I didn’t want to be caught here. I took a deep breath and tiptoed over to the desk, my eyes scanning the many papers for anything that seemed strange or out of place.

As I shuffled through the papers I came across two things that were interesting to me. The first was a marriage certificate that looked like it had been written up recently. The ink was still wet. I frowned as I glanced at the name, realizing it was the name of a noble woman that lived in a nearby town.  This certificate made it obvious that my fiancé intended on marrying someone other than me.

I went to set the certificate down but stopped short, noticing a life insurance policy underneath. Just like the signatures on the marriage certificate, the ink was wet on the life insurance policy as well. I was the person whom the policy was bought for, and my husband had named himself the benefactor. My eyes widened as I began to put two and two together.

My husband was planning on killing me, collecting the insurance money and running away with another woman!