The Brides of Golden Valley Box Set 1 Read online

  JACLYN HARDY

  This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Book design and layout copyright © 2020 Dragons & Fairy Tales Press

  Cover design copyright © 2020 Dragons & Fairy Tales Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jaclyn Hardy

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THE FARMER’S BRIDE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  THE RANCHER’S BRIDE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EPILOGUE

  THE BUTCHER’S BRIDE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EPILOGUE

  This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Book design and layout copyright © 2020 Dragons & Fairy Tales Press

  Cover design copyright © 2020 Dragons & Fairy Tales Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jaclyn Hardy

  Charlotte glanced at the servant woman and wrinkled her nose. It must be so awful to be the one who had to scrub the floors every day. Especially since Charlotte was the one who usually made the mess. Perhaps she should stop running through the muddy fields to get back from the stables.

  “Sorry for the mud.” Charlotte pulled off her boots. It was better to walk through the hall with bare feet anyway.

  “It’s all right, ma’am. I’d have to scrub the floors anyway.” The servant glanced up and then went back to scrubbing. The tile floors glistened in the candlelight where she’d already cleaned.

  Charlotte shook her head, ashamed for not thinking of the mess she’d make by walking through the halls. Again. “No, it’s not all right.”

  The woman stopped and leaned back. “Are you well, ma’am?”

  “Yes.” Charlotte hadn’t realized she was staring. She blinked away the memories from the ball that night. “No, no I’m not. I was just rejected by New York’s finest suitor for saying the wrong thing.”

  “Oh dear. One must learn to control their tongue.” She gasped and looked down at her hands. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.”

  Charlotte smirked. “You just said what everyone else has told me more than once. I’ll never be married at this rate.”

  The woman finally met Charlotte’s eyes. “If they don’t like you as you are, they are not worthy of you, ma’am.”

  “Naomi, I’ve told you a thousand times. Call me Charlotte.”

  “I know, ma’am. But your mother says otherwise.” She went back to scrubbing. “Does this mean she will be home from the ball soon?”

  Charlotte nodded and stood. It would be better if Mother didn’t find her slouching on a chair in the hallway. She was in enough trouble as it was for speaking out during dinner. “Yes. If you don’t mind, I’d like to change. Do you think you could get my nightgown?”

  Naomi stood. “Yes, I’ll do that for you right now.”

  “Thank you.” Charlotte walked to her room.

  The woman’s fingers were quick and sure as she undid ribbons and buttons. “What was it this time if I may ask?”

  Charlotte sighed as she pulled on her night gown. “It was awful. And not entirely my fault, though Mother will see it that way. Mr. Edwards was telling one of his companions a joke, and I thought it was funny. I laughed rather . . . loudly . . . while Stephen was talking to me about his riches, and he took it as an insult. It was bad timing, really.”

  Naomi laughed and shook her head. “Not very ladylike for sure. You should compose yourself in a suitor’s presence.”

  “What about Stephen? He wasn’t exactly quiet when he told me I wasn’t fit for a wife. But people seemed to applaud him.” Charlotte dropped into a chair.

  “It’s just the world we live in ma’am. You must follow the rules you were raised with.” Naomi’s smile was kind as she hung Charlotte’s dress.

  “Do you think I’ll be a spinster, Naomi?” Charlotte propped her chin on her hand.

  Naomi chuckled and picked up a hairbrush. “If you stay here, yes. You have a sharp mind and a quick tongue, and those in high society don’t like that.”

  “No, they don’t.” Charlotte leaned forward and propped her chin on her hand. “But what other choice do I have? Mother insists that I’m waited on hand and foot, so I have no skills to share. And the men here bore me.”

  Naomi leaned close and whispered. “So, leave.”

  Charlotte blinked. “I can’t do that.”

  Naomi grasped Charlotte by the shoulders and pulled her back so she could brush her hair. “They’re looking for women to go out west. You could do that.”

  “What?” Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up as she met Naomi’s gaze in the mirror. “What do you mean?”

  Naomi was silent as she began to braid Charlotte’s hair. “It may just be gossip, but there was talk at the last party your parents held. The men in the west need brides. Women can put an advertisement out and men could choose you to be their bride. You would get land and a few other benefits.”

  “That’s . . . that’s barbaric. What woman would allow a man to buy them?” Charlotte stood and paced. The very thought that someone could do that. She paused and turned to Naomi. “Who told you this?”

  “No one, ma’am. People don’t pay attention when I’m around, so I hear many things.” Naomi waited for Charlotte to sit so she could braid her hair. “It may be inaccurate. You know how gossip is.”

  Except that it didn’t feel like gossip. Usually it was more about who was courting who or who lost their fortune. This was different. Charlotte tapped her fingers on the vanity table in front of her. It was an . . . intriguing idea.

  Charlotte shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly do something like this. As I said before, I have no skills to offer. If men want a wife, it’s to help them around the house. I’m not the one they’d want.”

  “The only way for you to learn is to throw yourself into it. I could help you with a few things before you leave if you decide to go.” Naomi set the brush down. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go finish scrubbing the floors.”

 
Charlotte nodded and stood. “Mother should be home soon, so you’d better hurry. Thank you.”

  Naomi curtsied and left the room. Charlotte sighed and went to go find Father. If anyone knew about the brides it would be him. He stayed up to date on all events that were happening, and this seemed like the type of thing that would stand out to him. Charlotte went straight for his office to find him. After dealing with social events, that’s usually where he’d go to hide out for the rest of the night.

  Charlotte paused, wondering if she should ask him. The mocking looks from the ball guests that night came back to her. She knocked at his office door and opened it before she could change her mind. She needed to leave this place.

  Father looked up from his parchment and smiled. “I thought you were still at the ball.” Father folded his hands on the desk.

  “Stephen rejected me.” Charlotte ran her hand along his desk. “But then you probably knew he would.”

  Father leaned back in his chair. “I actually thought he’d be the one.”

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I hoped.” Father chuckled. “I hate seeing you alone. Your mother and I want nothing more than to see you happily married. It doesn’t matter who it is.”

  “Do you mean that?” Charlotte asked, surprised.

  Father stood and came around the desk. “I know that we’ve been hard on you the last couple of years. We’re trying our best. We just wish you wouldn’t throw away every suitor that comes along. Surely one of them was good enough.”

  Charlotte ticked names off on her fingers. “Would it be Thomas who wanted nothing but your money? Or Edward who never bathed? Ever. Or was it Zachariah whose eyes seemed to wander whenever we spoke? Those are the ones I rejected. All the others chose to walk away.”

  “Very well. I suppose you’re right.” Father folded his arms over his chest. “But you didn’t come here for us to talk about failed suitors. What is it that you really want?”

  Charlotte bit her lip. Maybe she should wait and find out more herself. No, she wanted to know now. “Tell me everything you know about men needing brides out west.”

  ***

  The post office was filled with customers when Charlotte arrived early the next morning. She should have worn a large hat to hide her face. There were most likely people who would recognize her, and she didn’t want them to see her when she filled out the application. Perhaps she should come back later . . .

  “Next.” The man’s voice made Charlotte jump.

  Everyone else had already gone through the line, so Charlotte moved to the counter. “Hello, I need to put my name down for a mail order bride.”

  The man pulled a book out from under the counter and flipped it open. “Here’s the application. You can stand over there and fill it out. That is, if you’re sure you want to do this.”

  Charlotte took the paper from him. “I’m sure.”

  Mother had not been thrilled that Charlotte was going to do this, but she’d been supportive. Charlotte filled out the application like they’d decided on together and checked to make sure everything was correct. When she was satisfied, she took the application to the postmaster.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take care of the rest. Good luck to you.” He smiled at her and wrote something in the binder.

  Charlotte hurried out to the carriage where her parents sat waiting and climbed in. “I did it.”

  Mom frowned. “And you’re sure this is what you’d like to do? I’m sure there are still other suitors here. Somewhere.”

  “She’s made up her mind, dear. Don’t force us into more balls, please.” Father patted Mother’s shoulder.

  Charlotte suppressed a smile and stared out the window. Hopefully her ad would be answered soon.

  ***

  It was a month before Charlotte heard anything. She finally received a couple of letters from different men, but it was Joshua who stole her heart. He was new to the Idaho territory, looking for a bride to help settle his home. She knew nothing about that, but the letters . . . they’d written back and forth to each other for a few months before she finally decided to go.

  Now she sat in a carriage after weeks of travel, hoping that she would be there soon. Her thoughts drifted back to the tearful goodbyes from her parents. She’d promised to send for them as soon as she was settled, but by then it would possibly be too late in the season. Perhaps next year.

  The jostling and whinny of horses jolted Charlotte awake. She groaned and wiped her eyes, but the lace on her sleeve scratched at her face. Charlotte’s stomach clenched as she looked down at the letters she’d been reading.

  She wasn’t sure if she was excited or scared. Most likely a little of both. Another bump shook the coach, and Charlotte grabbed tight to the door. The landscape was the same as it had been for days. Barren ground, tall rocks, and trees surrounded her.

  The rocks opened up into mountains and then soon after they began to descend into a valley. Charlotte gasped at the beauty in front of her. It was green from the early spring rains. A small homestead with stores sat in the middle. Maybe this would be her destination.

  The road smoothed out as they got closer and soon, the horses slowed just outside a station. Charlotte smoothed her dress and reached up to see if her hair was okay and remembered her mirror inside her bag. She rifled through her bags until she found it. Her hair seemed to be fine, but her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep. Hopefully Joshua wouldn’t notice.

  The stagecoach stopped and rocked as the driver climbed down. He opened the door and put a step on the ground. “Here we are, Miss Averley. I wish you the best of luck.”

  “Thank you.” Charlotte smiled and took his hand to climb down. Which was actually harder than she expected. Her skirts were huge, and she almost tripped on all of the layers. She really had been in the carriage for too long. Charlotte straightened and took a breath to compose herself.

  “The driver chuckled. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  He tipped his hat and moved on to his next passengers who were gathering around the stagecoach. Charlotte smiled at them and took her bags to the side so she wouldn’t be in their way. Dust blew off the wheels of the stagecoach as they rode off moments later, and Charlotte had to cover her face.

  A few of the townspeople glanced her way, but no one knew who she was or why she was there. Charlotte’s hand shook as she checked the paperwork she had with her. Hopefully this was the right day. But if it was, where was this Joshua who she was supposed to marry?

  Joshua stood up straight and wiped his brow. He’d been working on the sagebrush around his house for hours, but it didn’t look like he’d even made a dent. He came to this area for a fresh start. That’s exactly what he got.

  The sun was high in the sky by that time, and he needed to get out of the early summer sun. There was plenty of work to do inside, so he hefted his pickaxe up to rest on his shoulder and went into his house. There wasn’t much to the house yet. A very basic kitchen, a sparsely furnished living room, and an old straw mattress in his bedroom for a bed. The couch had been given to him by a neighbor and it had seen better days.

  Why he thought he could do this was beyond him. Get a house, land, a wife, and start a new life away from everything he knew. So far the house was all he had, although the wife would be taken care of soon enough. Joshua froze. Wife. What day was it?

  He scrambled to find the papers with all of the travel details. There. He scanned the page until he came to the bottom. The tenth. That was two days from now . . . no. He remembered it was the eighth at church two days ago.

  “No. What have I done?” Joshua sorted through his shirts to find one with no holes, and changed, then made sure his pants were clean. A few times running his fingers through his hair, and hopefully it looked all right.

  There were a few wildflowers he’d been battling in the front yard, so he grabbed a handful and sniff
ed them. The red flowers had a sweet scent to them. These would do. Joshua ran for his cart and tied his horse, Louie, to the front, then climbed up into the cart. It wasn’t exactly the best welcome, but it would do.

  Louie seemed to sense Joshua’s urgency as he took off at a gallop, nearly pulling Joshua off the cart as they sped toward the Oakley Meadows stagecoach stop. Hopefully the stagecoach was late today. The cart pounded against the rocks in the road, and Joshua worried the wheels would shatter, but he had no time to slow down.

  The sun was hot on his neck, and he realized he didn’t have his hat with him. The station came into view among the small settlement that had been built around it. He slowed as soon as he entered the town and waved at a few of the people who stared as he passed. His stomach twisted once he got to the station. A beautiful young woman sat on her luggage, her chin propped on her hand. As unladylike as she seemed sitting there, it only made her more likable.

  Joshua pulled up to the side and climbed off the cart, then ran his hand through his hair again. It was most likely sticking out everywhere, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He patted Louie on the back and approached the young woman.

  “Charlotte?”

  The woman looked up at him, her eyes pulling him in. “Joshua?”

  “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. The time got away from me.”

  She stood and huffed. “It took long enough. I’m dying of heat out here.”

  “I—I’m sorry. Let’s get you home.” Joshua paused. “Although I suppose we should do the marriage thing first.”

  “Wait, what?” Charlotte’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I guess you’re right. We should do that first.”

  Joshua frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, sorry. I just need some rest and then I’ll be fine.” Charlotte rubbed her sleeve on her forehead. “So, where do we get married, then? Do you have a chapel?”