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RACHEL: BRIDE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE
Thomas Buchanan feels deceived when the homely mail-order bride he asked for is a beauty—a fact she patently denies. Rachel West is reluctant to marry in the first place so a reprieve is good news. Can they work their way back from a bad beginning to find they belong together after all? Rachel: Bride of New Hampshire is 9th in the unprecedented 50-book American Mail-Order Brides series. Each are stand-alone books that may be read in any order. OTHER AMERICAN MAIL-ORDER BRIDE SERIES BOOKS can be found at http://www.newwesternromance.com/ Her sister Grace's story, (How Miss West was Won) is coming soon. 
HOW MISS WEST WAS WON
(November 2016) |
RACHEL
Chapter One
Lawrence, Massachusetts. September, 1890
“Just read the letter.”
Rachel West petted her very ugly cat, with its different lengths of gray hair and bald patches. Sir Lancelot purred like crazy, and his long, spotted tongue hung out again. He repelled most people, but she loved him. “I’m not interested in reading the letter, or in being a wife, so I don’t see the point.” She tried to make her tone firm, but even she heard the wobble in her voice. Or was that desperation?
They’d had this conversation before, but Violet, best friend and pesterer, thought she knew best.
Violet shook the letter. “Just read it. The situation is perfect for you. The man has a daughter and he wants her to learn comportment, music, and decorum. With your background, if you could just think of this as a job, it would be perfect for you.”
Rachel rolled her eyes and tried to get comfortable in the only chair in the room.
“Come now, why not? All of the other girls are excited. I’m excited.”
Rachel snorted. The young man Violet was writing to apparently hung the sun, moon, and stars.
“Where is your sense of adventure?”
“Trying to manipulate me is not going to work.”
Violet tossed the letter onto her bunk and walked to the dirty window in the small room that housed four girls, crossed her arms, then stared out. “You’re in dire straits. We all are. I don’t think it’s a good idea to bury your head in the sand. Did you hear that Darby McClintock has accepted a groom from Oregon?”
“Darby has?” That surprised her. Darby was rather headstrong and had a temper. Rachel hadn’t thought she’d sign on as a bride.
“What are you to do after every one of us leaves? Where will you go when the rent money runs out?”
Rachel set the cat down, and it ran a few paces then stopped by the closed door and curled its raggedy tail around itself and licked its leg. “That’s not fair. It’s not as if I’m lazing about doing nothing. You know I’m trying to find a job.”
“What about your mother? You know she’d want this for you.”
That was true, and there was no denying it. Her mother wanted her to marry, and mentioned it in almost every letter she sent.
“You’ve got to face reality. My ticket to North Dakota could arrive any day. I can’t just leave you. Not until I know you’ll be all right. Come now, would a husband truly be so bad?”
“Dreadful, as far as I’ve observed.” She tried to sound calm, in control, but was afraid she’d struck the wrong note into desperation. “Anyway, what’s wrong with this particular gentleman? Why wasn’t he chosen by one of the other girls?”
“Nothing is wrong with him.” Violet glanced away again, sounding uncomfortable.
Rachel’s eyes widened and she smiled as her natural good humor reasserted itself. “Is he older than the hills? Is he looking for a young bride to be there for him in his old age? Does he need help walking? Bathing? Making his way to the outhouse? Will he leave me all his money?”
Violet giggled. “It’s nothing like that.” She still stared out the window and the sounds of a horse and carriage, children playing, and a baker shouting about his wares carried through the thin building. “You never said how the job search is going? Any prospects?”
So there was something the matter with the man. “It’s fine.”
“I want specifics. And I’ll be checking up on them before I go. If you don’t have a job, I’m not leaving you here on your own.”
“You have to go. You want to go.”
“I do. This is a new chance. For all of us. It would be such a shame if you ruined it for me.”
“Guilt won’t work either, but nice try.” Rachel glanced at the four small beds, empty now, as the twins had already headed west, mail-order brides of a pair of wealthy miners in Utah Territory. “Why did this have to happen? This place is horrid, but I was actually happy here. Happier than I’ve been in a long while.”
Violet finally turned to look at her, pretty blue eyes pleading. “Look, I know you don’t trust men. First your father leaves the family. Then you lost a job you loved when your employer’s son tried to ruin you. And, now, with the factory burning down in such suspicious circumstances you probably trust them even less. But don’t you see this is a chance for us? Men treat their wives differently.”
Rachel raised a brow and tilted her head toward the door. Silence might reign at the moment, but the landlord was known to terrorize his wife when the mood struck, and everyone knew it.
“Many men do treat their wives well. At least come with me to talk to Miss Miller. She’s a good woman, and I’m truly impressed with the way she’s trying to help us all find decent matches.”
“I’m sure a job will come available any day.”
“If I were as sure, I’d leave you to it. But I’m not, so I won’t. Just read the letter.” She picked it up off her bed and shook it again. “Miss Miller was kind enough to let me take this, but I have to return it soon as he’s in the Grooms’ Gazette and some other girl might be interested in him.
But I think this man might be the perfect match for you.” She swallowed. “I just have a good feeling about him.”
Rachel eyed her suspiciously. “What was that tone in your voice? Just spit it out. What is wrong with the gentleman in question?”
Violet wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s nothing. He just has an unusual requirement.”
Rachel glared. “He is eighty years old, isn’t he? And a wife beater!”
“He’s a young man. His name is Thomas Buchanan.”
“First, I’m going to state the obvious. Regardless of all the ladies who have utilized Miss Miller’s services to find husbands, this letter has been passed over repeatedly. So he is legitimately the bottom of the barrel, correct?”
Violet’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “His circumstances in life are actually quite desirable.”
Violet now had Rachel’s full attention. “What’s the matter with him? Tell me the truth. Does he beat women? Is he lame? Disfigured? Incredibly short? Ugly as the day is long?”
Violet flinched.
“Seriously? He stated in the letter that he’s ugly?”
“He’s not ugly. He simply has an unusual requirement that put the other ladies off. But you have no one to blame but yourself if you get the husband no one wanted. You’ve been very stubborn about refusing to consider this route. And now he may be the only option left open to you.”
“Is it my fault no one is hiring?” She waved a hand. “Anyway, I don’t want to leave my mother.”
“Your mother lives in New York City. You live here in Lawrence, Massachusetts. You’ve already left your mother.”
“I know, but I heard the other ladies talking. Some are going as far as Washington, or California. I’d never see my mother again.”
“Well then, you’re in luck. This particular gentleman lives in New Hampshire.”
“New Hampshire?” By train she could probably arrive in New York in half a day’s journey or so. “Fine. Spit it out. What is his unusual requirement?”
“You’d consider it?”
“What? Marriage? I don’t know. But you’ve captured my interest. I want to know what the gentleman had to say.”
Violet hurried to the bunk to retrieve the letter. She fingered it for a moment.
Rachel laughed at her friend’s worried expression. “Admit it, this was the last letter available, and you yourself would not consider marrying this person.”
Violet looked agonized. “I just want you to promise to consider him.”
“Just give it to me or read it out loud.”
“It’s just that the…the situation is…” Violet took a breath and hurriedly rushed on. “I mean, yes, there is a reason the other girls passed on this letter. But if you could just consider…”
“Consider what?”
“Before I tell you I want you to consider that we could make this work. I’ll help you. We all will.”
“What! Just spit it out.”
“He… he wants an ugly wife.”
Rachel’s eyes widened and her mouth parted.
The two girls looked at each other across the cramped and rented room. In her entire life, Rachel never worried about her appearance. She couldn’t walk outside without men commenting, calling out, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Beautiful, bewitching, stunning—all words used to describe her on one occasion or another. She’d been denied jobs based on her appearance.
She threw her head back and whooped. She clutched her middle as laughter shook her insides. Violet’s expression of pique made her giggle all the harder. Finally she calmed down and wiped her eyes.
“All right.” She chuckled once more. “You’ve got my attention. I’ll read the letter.”
~~~
Chapter One
Lawrence, Massachusetts. September, 1890
“Just read the letter.”
Rachel West petted her very ugly cat, with its different lengths of gray hair and bald patches. Sir Lancelot purred like crazy, and his long, spotted tongue hung out again. He repelled most people, but she loved him. “I’m not interested in reading the letter, or in being a wife, so I don’t see the point.” She tried to make her tone firm, but even she heard the wobble in her voice. Or was that desperation?
They’d had this conversation before, but Violet, best friend and pesterer, thought she knew best.
Violet shook the letter. “Just read it. The situation is perfect for you. The man has a daughter and he wants her to learn comportment, music, and decorum. With your background, if you could just think of this as a job, it would be perfect for you.”
Rachel rolled her eyes and tried to get comfortable in the only chair in the room.
“Come now, why not? All of the other girls are excited. I’m excited.”
Rachel snorted. The young man Violet was writing to apparently hung the sun, moon, and stars.
“Where is your sense of adventure?”
“Trying to manipulate me is not going to work.”
Violet tossed the letter onto her bunk and walked to the dirty window in the small room that housed four girls, crossed her arms, then stared out. “You’re in dire straits. We all are. I don’t think it’s a good idea to bury your head in the sand. Did you hear that Darby McClintock has accepted a groom from Oregon?”
“Darby has?” That surprised her. Darby was rather headstrong and had a temper. Rachel hadn’t thought she’d sign on as a bride.
“What are you to do after every one of us leaves? Where will you go when the rent money runs out?”
Rachel set the cat down, and it ran a few paces then stopped by the closed door and curled its raggedy tail around itself and licked its leg. “That’s not fair. It’s not as if I’m lazing about doing nothing. You know I’m trying to find a job.”
“What about your mother? You know she’d want this for you.”
That was true, and there was no denying it. Her mother wanted her to marry, and mentioned it in almost every letter she sent.
“You’ve got to face reality. My ticket to North Dakota could arrive any day. I can’t just leave you. Not until I know you’ll be all right. Come now, would a husband truly be so bad?”
“Dreadful, as far as I’ve observed.” She tried to sound calm, in control, but was afraid she’d struck the wrong note into desperation. “Anyway, what’s wrong with this particular gentleman? Why wasn’t he chosen by one of the other girls?”
“Nothing is wrong with him.” Violet glanced away again, sounding uncomfortable.
Rachel’s eyes widened and she smiled as her natural good humor reasserted itself. “Is he older than the hills? Is he looking for a young bride to be there for him in his old age? Does he need help walking? Bathing? Making his way to the outhouse? Will he leave me all his money?”
Violet giggled. “It’s nothing like that.” She still stared out the window and the sounds of a horse and carriage, children playing, and a baker shouting about his wares carried through the thin building. “You never said how the job search is going? Any prospects?”
So there was something the matter with the man. “It’s fine.”
“I want specifics. And I’ll be checking up on them before I go. If you don’t have a job, I’m not leaving you here on your own.”
“You have to go. You want to go.”
“I do. This is a new chance. For all of us. It would be such a shame if you ruined it for me.”
“Guilt won’t work either, but nice try.” Rachel glanced at the four small beds, empty now, as the twins had already headed west, mail-order brides of a pair of wealthy miners in Utah Territory. “Why did this have to happen? This place is horrid, but I was actually happy here. Happier than I’ve been in a long while.”
Violet finally turned to look at her, pretty blue eyes pleading. “Look, I know you don’t trust men. First your father leaves the family. Then you lost a job you loved when your employer’s son tried to ruin you. And, now, with the factory burning down in such suspicious circumstances you probably trust them even less. But don’t you see this is a chance for us? Men treat their wives differently.”
Rachel raised a brow and tilted her head toward the door. Silence might reign at the moment, but the landlord was known to terrorize his wife when the mood struck, and everyone knew it.
“Many men do treat their wives well. At least come with me to talk to Miss Miller. She’s a good woman, and I’m truly impressed with the way she’s trying to help us all find decent matches.”
“I’m sure a job will come available any day.”
“If I were as sure, I’d leave you to it. But I’m not, so I won’t. Just read the letter.” She picked it up off her bed and shook it again. “Miss Miller was kind enough to let me take this, but I have to return it soon as he’s in the Grooms’ Gazette and some other girl might be interested in him.
But I think this man might be the perfect match for you.” She swallowed. “I just have a good feeling about him.”
Rachel eyed her suspiciously. “What was that tone in your voice? Just spit it out. What is wrong with the gentleman in question?”
Violet wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s nothing. He just has an unusual requirement.”
Rachel glared. “He is eighty years old, isn’t he? And a wife beater!”
“He’s a young man. His name is Thomas Buchanan.”
“First, I’m going to state the obvious. Regardless of all the ladies who have utilized Miss Miller’s services to find husbands, this letter has been passed over repeatedly. So he is legitimately the bottom of the barrel, correct?”
Violet’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “His circumstances in life are actually quite desirable.”
Violet now had Rachel’s full attention. “What’s the matter with him? Tell me the truth. Does he beat women? Is he lame? Disfigured? Incredibly short? Ugly as the day is long?”
Violet flinched.
“Seriously? He stated in the letter that he’s ugly?”
“He’s not ugly. He simply has an unusual requirement that put the other ladies off. But you have no one to blame but yourself if you get the husband no one wanted. You’ve been very stubborn about refusing to consider this route. And now he may be the only option left open to you.”
“Is it my fault no one is hiring?” She waved a hand. “Anyway, I don’t want to leave my mother.”
“Your mother lives in New York City. You live here in Lawrence, Massachusetts. You’ve already left your mother.”
“I know, but I heard the other ladies talking. Some are going as far as Washington, or California. I’d never see my mother again.”
“Well then, you’re in luck. This particular gentleman lives in New Hampshire.”
“New Hampshire?” By train she could probably arrive in New York in half a day’s journey or so. “Fine. Spit it out. What is his unusual requirement?”
“You’d consider it?”
“What? Marriage? I don’t know. But you’ve captured my interest. I want to know what the gentleman had to say.”
Violet hurried to the bunk to retrieve the letter. She fingered it for a moment.
Rachel laughed at her friend’s worried expression. “Admit it, this was the last letter available, and you yourself would not consider marrying this person.”
Violet looked agonized. “I just want you to promise to consider him.”
“Just give it to me or read it out loud.”
“It’s just that the…the situation is…” Violet took a breath and hurriedly rushed on. “I mean, yes, there is a reason the other girls passed on this letter. But if you could just consider…”
“Consider what?”
“Before I tell you I want you to consider that we could make this work. I’ll help you. We all will.”
“What! Just spit it out.”
“He… he wants an ugly wife.”
Rachel’s eyes widened and her mouth parted.
The two girls looked at each other across the cramped and rented room. In her entire life, Rachel never worried about her appearance. She couldn’t walk outside without men commenting, calling out, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Beautiful, bewitching, stunning—all words used to describe her on one occasion or another. She’d been denied jobs based on her appearance.
She threw her head back and whooped. She clutched her middle as laughter shook her insides. Violet’s expression of pique made her giggle all the harder. Finally she calmed down and wiped her eyes.
“All right.” She chuckled once more. “You’ve got my attention. I’ll read the letter.”
~~~
