Santa Fe Mail Order Brides Box Set Page 5

  Cece’s boarding house faced north and the enormous snow-capped mountain that loomed down on the valley the town sat in. She walked to the window and stared beyond the town itself and felt a twinge of homesickness in studying the beautiful mountain.

  Santa Fe was a poorer city, compared to Charleston. Since the main railway bypassed the little town, and was reached by an offshoot, it missed the economical incline other cities such as Lamy enjoyed. It was sad really, the local artists were so talented and she loved the Pueblo Indian pottery she’d spotted in front of the Palace of the Governors on the north end of the city.

  Sighing heavily, Grace turned from the window and spotted Matthew sitting in a plush, fabric covered chair facing the fireplace. Walking over, she grabbed a hardback chair and pulled it up beside him.

  They sat together and took turns reading passages from some of Cece’s books. Grace loved the sonnets of William Shakespeare, while Matthew found he enjoyed the more mysterious stories of Sherlock Holmes, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

  Dinner was a grand event, everyone joining in the conversation and eating a fine meal. The first clap of thunder boomed shortly before Elijah began carving the turkey, and by the time dessert was served, a torrential downpour had ensued.

  “The roads will be under water before long,” Eli mused later as he peered out the large floor-to-ceiling parlor windows. “Looks like monsoon season is upon us,” he added ruefully.

  Matt rose from his chair and walked over to peer out at the lightning flashes as they temporarily illuminated the streets. He sat his small dessert plate containing a half-eaten slice of pumpkin pie down on the table beside him and turned to face Eli.

  “Should I ask Mrs. Cece to prepare some rooms for us?” he asked, and Eli nodded.

  “Yes, we’d be safer spending the night. Everything should be battened down at the homestead. We can head out early in the morning to check over things before church service.”

  But before Matt could turn to head toward the kitchen where the ladies were still cleaning up, the fire bell sent a loud peal through the night. They’d installed the large bell in Central Plaza in case a fire ever broke out. Everyone knew what the metallic gongs meant.

  Something was on fire.

  Matthew raced to the doors and wrenched them open. Mark rushed past him and down the stone steps to the street.

  “It’s the livery!” Mark shouted and Matt turned in the direction of the blacksmith’s building, his stomach sinking in fear. Jack, the young blacksmith, hadn’t been married but a few months and now his livelihood was in danger. He and his new bride already had a baby on the way too.

  “C’mon boys,” Elijah shouted and broke into a run, heading toward the water troughs sitting in front of the general store across the street. Other men began rushing to help, forming a line all the way from the troughs to the livery across the street. Eli dipped a bucket, filling it as quickly as he could, and passed it to Mark who then passed it on to the next person in line.

  Some of the wives scurried out with arms full of clay pitchers and vases, placing them at Eli’s feet so he could keep filling them without pause. The flames weren’t so high that putting it out would be impossible, so each man threw everything he had into helping their friend save his shop.

  Matthew took only a few seconds to wonder just how the blaze was so high considering the pelting rain, but then was spurred into action when Luke and John rushed passed him as well.

  All the women had gathered on the small stoop just outside the doors. He turned and searched out Grace.

  “I’ll be back,” he called and reached out for her hand. She moved towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist instead. Placing her cheek over his heart, she closed her eyes and murmured a silent prayer for him and the other men. She pleaded with God to keep them safe.

  “Please be careful,” she begged and then smiled when Matt pressed a gentle kiss atop her head.

  “Always,” he whispered and then disappeared down the street.

  It was going to take a while to get the fire under control. The other women turned and headed back inside the boarding house, discussing plans to have food ready to serve the brave men later, in appreciation of their efforts. But Grace stayed on the stoop and watched the water procession, unable to abandon her vigil. Several horses shot out of the stables next to the livery and Grace inhaled sharply when she saw Matt rush out behind them, his face covered in soot.

  She watched him as he then ran to the house next to the stables. Her eyes widened in horror when Matthew kicked the door open and disappeared inside, the shadowy smoke already filtering out the doorway.

  “No!” she shouted and lifted her skirts to run after him. She didn’t know what propelled her to do such a foolish thing. All she knew was that her feet were moving in the direction he just disappeared. She ran as fast as she could and barely slowed down as she came upon the smashed in front door.

  Lifting a corner of her blue cotton dress, she pulled it over her nose and ducked into the burning house. She saw movement, heard a woman crying but couldn’t make out anything in the dense smoke. She coughed violently, her lungs burning with the need for fresh air, but she refused to leave until she had her hands on Matt.

  A large familiar silhouette moved across the room from her and she moved the cloth from her mouth to call out but before she took one step, a heavy snap echoed above her and she looked up, watching in horror as a bright red, burning beam came crashing down on top of her.

  Bright lights exploded in front of her eyes and she hit the floor hard. She heard Matthew screaming her name before succumbing to the darkness.

  Matthew sat in a chair pulled as close to Grace’s bedside as he could manage. He held her limp hand in his and pressed his lips against the back of her hand. No matter how long he lived, he’d never be free of the image of that burning shaft falling on her.

  According to Doctor Shambley, she had suffered a serious knock to the head, a broken leg and numerous burns along her neck, arms, and hands. Luckily her dress had warded off the worst of the flames before Matt had managed to grab Delilah’s curtains and throw them across Grace’s prone form.

  Jack and Delilah had made it out of the house, Matt right behind them, with Grace in his arms. He could still feel her slight frame cradled tightly – and limply – against his chest. He’d managed to get her safely to her room before rushing back outside to vomit the entirety of his dinner.

  The water brigade managed to put the flames out before it went any further past the Trentons’ house on the west end and the Blacksmith shop on the east. According to Jack, lightening had struck the side of his building, and the blaze erupted from there.

  “You should get some rest,” Elijah advised from Grace’s open door. “Mary will sit with her until she wakes up.”

  Matthew shook his head and roughly brushed the tears the motion set loose from his cheeks.

  “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “I won’t leave until she opens her eyes and I know she’s alright. I don’t care if I have to stay here for days.”

  Eli crossed the room and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “You know what to do,” Eli urged. “You know she’s in His hands now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Matt pulled Grace’s hand to his forehead and bowed over it, his lips moving rapidly in prayer. It was difficult knowing that he’d finally found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and she may not live to see the sunrise.

  “Holy Father, I beg you to take Grace in your lovin’ hands,” Matthew murmured softly. “She’s such a beautiful woman, inside as well as outside and she deserves to live a long, healthy life. She traveled so far to meet me, please let her wake up. Give me the chance to tell her how much she means to me.”

  When he opened his eyes, Mary was in the chair next to his, keeping her own silent vigil. They sat in the same position for hours, with |Matthew alternating between praying and begging God to take him instead.
br />   Finally, shortly before sunrise, when Mary had gone to lay on the sofa for a rest, Grace shifted restlessly and opened bloodshot brown eyes. Matt’s heart leapt with joy and he jumped to his feet, leaning down to press a feather light kiss to her forehead.

  “There you are,” he murmured softly and squeezed both her hands with his. “I thought I’d lost you,” he confessed.

  When Grace merely stared at him without speaking, he grew uneasy.

  “Grace?” he asked hoarsely. “Say somethin’, tell me you’re alright,” he begged.

  She shifted so that she somewhat sat up against the headboard and offered Matthew a small smile.

  “I’m alright Matthew,” she murmured. “I feel strange, my head is all fuzzy,” she added and reached up to probe the visible knot just beneath her hairline. “Ouch,” she yelped when her fingers brushed the tender spot.

  “I’ll go get your ma,” Matthew offered quickly and turned to head toward the door.

  “Matthew, wait.” Grace called out. “Are you alright?” she asked softly. “I was so afraid you’d get hurt.”

  He moved back to her side and took her hand in his, brushing a light kiss across her knuckles.

  “My heart broke when I watched that beam fall on you,” he admitted gently. “That’s the only thing that hurt me; not knowin’ if you were gonna be alright.”

  Her smile warmed at his confession.

  “I’ll go get your ma now,” Matthew murmured and pressed another kiss to the back of her hand.

  “So, you’re sayin’ her leg is broke pretty bad,” Matt asked, his voice cracking with weariness, “and it’s gonna take some time to get back to normal.”

  “It’s more than that,” Dr. Shambley said. “It’s broken in more than one place and those kinds of wounds take a long time to mend. If she’s able to walk again, she’ll probably have a limp for the rest of her life.,” he explained, and patted Matt gently on the shoulder. “But let’s not put the plow before the horse just yet. She needs some time to heal. I’ve tended the burns and cuts but I won’t know anything more until the swelling goes down, and that’ll take a couple of days, if not a week,” the doctor explained. “For now, I’ve left some laudanum for any pain. Just keep her in bed and comfortable. I’ll be back to check on her in a few hours.”

  Matt turned to Mary and when he noticed her tears, he opened his arms, pulling her into an embrace as she sobbed. He rubbed her back in soft, slow circles and tried his best to process everything the doctor had told them.

  Chapter Seven

  December 23, 1899

  G race lay in bed and tried her best to bring some semblance of sanity to her chaotic mind. She’d been cooped up in her room, confined to bed for far too long. Although Doc Shambley had managed to splint and wrap her leg so she could get to the chamber pot and the sitting chair in the corner, she hadn’t left her room since the accident.

  As someone not accustomed to such idleness, Grace was dying to get outside and breathe some fresh air. But even getting from the bed to the window was a feat managed only with the support of her mother.

  It’d only been a few weeks, but Grace soon realized she wasn’t going to get any more mobile than she now was. How could she marry Matthew now? She couldn’t even walk on her own two legs anymore. She’d be useless on a farm; she’d be useless as a wife.

  Matthew came to visit her every day and her guilt grew a little more with each visit. He was such a lively, busy man and the last thing he needed was a wife would couldn’t even take care of herself.

  Doctor Shambley had managed to order her a rolling chair from a doctor friend of his in Boston, but she still had to be carried up and down the stairs and someone had to push her like the invalid she was.

  If she faced the rest of her life living this way, she refused to be a burden on Matthew. She hadn’t spoken to him of her fear and anxiety; she knew he had enough to worry about with the farm and his father’s church. She couldn’t bring herself to add anymore trouble to his already heavy shoulders.

  It hadn’t taken her much thought to decide that Matthew deserved more than a broken wife. He needed a woman who could share life with him, tend cattle, do chores, and even go fishing.

  So, after Matthew’s visit, she and her mother had a rather lengthy conversation and Grace convinced Mary that she couldn’t stay here any longer. Although Mary disapproved, she’d packed their things and had them delivered to the train station.

  Cece had also disapproved of Grace’s decision to leave, especially when she learned she was going without talking to Matthew first. But she’d still rounded up a few young men to help Grace down the stairs and to the train station.

  Now, Grace and her mother sat on a bench at the depot, waiting for the ten o’clock train. Grace’s heart was shattered in so many pieces; she knew that part of her would never be right again. Being a wife was all she had to offer and now she’d been robbed of that, so she resigned herself to going back to Charleston with Mary and living out her years there in solitude.

  She heard the train approaching and tightened her clasped hands in her lap. She hated leaving without telling Matthew goodbye, but she felt that it was best this way. She couldn’t bear to see the pain and disappointment in his eyes.

  The train rolled to a stop and Mary stood beside Grace’s chair. They waited for departing passengers to clear the platform and then Mary got behind Grace and pushed her toward the steps where a porter waited to help them board.

  “You’re leavin’ without sayin’ goodbye,” Matt’s voice demanded from directly behind them. Swiveling in her seat, Grace turned to face him and her eyes filled with tears. Sensing her daughter’s panic, Mary stepped to her side and put a protective arm around her shoulders, but remained quiet.

  “Why?” Matt asked Grace without glancing at her mother.

  “Look at me,” Grace demanded. “I’m useless in this chair and you deserve better.”

  Matthew narrowed his eyes angrily and then did something Grace would never forget.

  He pulled his hat off and went down on bended knee before her. She started to tell him to get up but stopped short when he raised his hand to take hers.

  “I sat by your bed every second that night,” he confessed and she knew what night he meant without asking; apparently they both remembered it well. “I prayed and I cried. I promised God that I would do anything if he would just spare you.”

  “I’m not whole anymore,” Grace argued stubbornly. “I will never be the same.” She pulled her hand from his and motioned to the chair. “I’ll probably be in this thing the rest of my life.”

  “Maybe so,” Matt acknowledged. “But that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that I love you Grace Margaret Williams and I want to marry you,” he announced and turned her hand over, placing something cold and metallic in her palm.

  “It was my mother’s,” he said when she opened her fist and looked down at the emerald stone set in a simple gold band. “You would make me the happiest man alive if you’ll agree to be my wife. I promise I will never leave your side, I will take care of you and I will honor, trust, and obey you until the day I die.” His voice trailed off and unshed tears flooded his bright, blue eyes. “Please don’t go,” he pleaded. “Not when I’ve finally worked up the nerve to ask you to stay.”

  Grace’s own eyes filled with tears and she choked on a sob. She turned to look up at her mother in search of guidance. Mary nodded and smiled in answer.

  “I’ll stay if Matt will allow it,” Mary offered. “I can help you with daily chores and such.”

  Turning back to Matt, Grace opened her arms and laughed when Matt lunged forward, enveloping her in the tightest hug she’d ever felt.

  “Is that a yes?” Matt whispered in her ear. “Please say that’s a yes.”

  “Yes,” Grace confirmed.

  That Sunday service was a bit different from any other time, even with it being Christmas Day. Instead of Elijah Wells standing behind the altar, delivering God’s
message, he pushed the beautiful young woman who’d stolen all their hearts down the aisle to where his eldest son Matthew waited.

  Bending down, he lifted the veil Deliliah Trenton had loaned Grace and brushed a light kiss across her forehead before replacing the slip of lace. He then placed her hand in Matt’s and took his place at the altar. He took great pleasure in being the one to perform the wedding ceremony for his boy.

  The whole town had shown up for the nuptials and he didn’t miss the way Mr. Croft fawned over Grace’s mother Mary. He’d been fond of Grace’s mother since she stepped off the train, but it was only a mutual affection shared between the parents of children in love.

  But as he read from First Corinthians, he couldn’t help but thank God for His hand in helping the young men of his flock. He recited the vows, waited for the bride and the groom to each repeat them, and then took great pleasure in pronouncing them man and wife.

  His gaze roamed over to where his other three sons sat, and he found he had great hope for their futures. With God’s help, they’d found Matthew’s true love and all their lives were richer for it.

  He couldn’t wait to see what was in store for the rest of them.

  Mark Found by Hope

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter One

  December 31, 1899

  I t felt good to be in the company of family and friends, Elijah Wells thought to himself, as he sat down to a delicious dinner in the simple frame house his family called home. It was New Year’s Eve, and in less than five hours, it would be the end of the old century and the beginning of a brand new one. Elijah thanked God he was alive to witness such a momentous event.