RNWMP: Bride For Gilbert (Mail Order Mounties Book 17)

  RNWMP: Bride for Gilbert

  Mail Order Mounties

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Copyright © 2018 by Kirsten Osbourne

  Unlimited Dreams Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Rachel Bird

  Cover design by Erin Dameron Hill/ EDH Grpahics

  Book design by Sara Benedict

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Visit my website at www.kirstenandmorganna.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  TEXT ‘BOB’ to 42828

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Also by Kirsten Osbourne

  1

  Madelyn White took a deep breath as she approached the table of an older woman. “Hello, may I take your order?”

  The woman looked at her with a smile. “Yes, please. I’d like a chicken pot pie.”

  Madelyn nodded, glancing over her shoulder as she saw her manager, the bane of her existence, watching her closely. Mr. Humphreys had made it plain he planned to court her, whether she wanted it or not. He was an ardent admirer, and he had no plans of changing his ways. “Yes, ma’am. What would you like to drink with that?”

  The woman frowned at her. “Is that man making you nervous?”

  Madelyn swallowed hard. She rarely talked to the customers at the restaurant she waitressed at other than taking their orders, but this one seemed to be willing to listen to her. She stepped closer, and carefully lowered her voice. “He’s my manager, and he’s—well, he’s interested in me romantically. It doesn’t matter to him that I don’t return that interest.”

  “Is he causing problems for you?”

  Madelyn shrugged, not sure how to answer. “He follows me home from work, and he tries to kiss me in the back room. I don’t know how to get away from him. When I leave the boarding house to go to work, he’s standing outside waiting for me. I want to get a new job, but I haven’t been able to find one.”

  “May I borrow your pen?”

  Madelyn handed her pen to the woman, wondering how on earth that was going to help anything. She watched her as the woman wrote something down on a scrap of paper she pulled from her reticule.

  When Madelyn was handed the paper, she read it with a frown. “Miss Hazel Hughes.” An address was there as well. She frowned. “Do you want me to visit you?”

  Miss Hazel nodded. “I do. I have a proposition for you. I assume you’re not averse to marrying a good man?”

  “Of course not.” Madelyn had no idea what was going on in the woman’s head, but she wanted to understand.

  “Come see me. Come straight to my house after work, and we’ll chat. I promise you, I can offer you something better than what you’re living with now.”

  Madelyn frowned but slipped the paper into her pocket. “I’ll be back in a moment with your chicken pot pie. What would you like to drink?” she asked again, hoping she’d get an answer this time.

  “I’ll have a cup of tea.”

  Madelyn nodded and hurried off toward the kitchen. That had been a strange exchange, but she might have to check on what the woman was able to do to help her. Or what she thought she could do anyway. Madelyn had moved to Ottawa a few months before, thinking that she would find her fortune there. All she’d found was that the men in the city were even pushier than the men back home. She gave the order to the cook and sighed. She would probably need to go see this Miss Hazel and see what she wanted from her.

  * * *

  Six hours later, Madelyn was walking alone through the streets of Ottawa, trying to find the address on the paper Miss Hazel had given her. She’d waited until Mr. Humphreys was dealing with a customer complaint before she slipped out the door, knowing he wouldn’t drop what he was doing to follow her.

  She stopped in front of a huge house, checking the paper in her hand one last time to make sure this was the right place. The home was much bigger than any she’d ever stepped foot in, and she was more than a little intimidated. Gathering her gumption, she stepped up to the door and knocked. It was all she could do not to run instead of waiting for someone to come to the door.

  There were mounds of melting snow all around, and she was glad March had brought some warmer weather. This winter had seemed as if it would never end.

  The door opened, and Miss Hazel stood smiling at her. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “I wasn’t sure either. But I’m here.”

  “Come in! We’ll talk. I’m Hazel Hughes, but everyone just calls me Miss Hazel.”

  “I’m Madelyn White.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you.” Miss Hazel led her to a small parlor. “Now you wait here while I fix us some tea so we can talk. You won’t run away, will you?”

  Madelyn smiled. “If I was going to run away, I’d have done it while I was waiting for you to come to the door. I’m never cowardly when people are watching.”

  Miss Hazel laughed. “I’ll be right back then.”

  While she waited, Madelyn looked around the room. It was beautifully furnished, and there was a small desk at one end of the room. There was a stack of letters on the desk, and it made Madelyn think Miss Hazel must be a wonderful correspondent. She felt comfortable there in a way that surprised her. She’d thought she’d feel a bit overwhelmed by the affluence of the home, but instead, she felt as if it was welcoming her.

  Miss Hazel was back a moment later with a tray laden with a teapot, two cups and saucers, and a plate of cookies. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Madelyn nodded. “We eat lunch at the restaurant, but that’s the only meal we’re allowed. It’s been many hours since I’ve eaten.”

  Miss Hazel put her tray onto a low table and sat down across from Madelyn, quickly pouring the tea. “I forgot to put cream and sugar on the tray. Would you like me to fetch either or both?”

  “No, thank you. I take my tea plain.” Madelyn took the cup Miss Hazel offered, and picked up a cookie, taking a quick bite and feeling crumbs fall all down the front of her uniform. What a mess she was making! Miss Hazel would think she had no manners at all.

  “I want you to tell me about your experience with your manager. Have you done anything to indicate you might be interested in him at all?” Miss Hazel took a sip of her own tea, studying Madelyn over the rim of the cup.

  Madelyn shook her head emphatically, spilling a bit of her tea in the process. She wasn’t normally so clumsy, but she was very nervous about this meeting, having no idea what it was about. “I haven’t accepted any of his invitations, even when it would have benefited me to do so. I don’t want to encourage him in any way.” There had been a couple of evenings when she’d first arrived when she realized she’d be going without supper if she didn’t accept his invitation, but she’d still refused.

  “How long has he acted this way?” Miss Hazel asked.

  “I’ve
only been in town since the end of September. I met him my first day on the job, which was shortly after I arrived in town. I interviewed with the owner, not with Mr. Humphreys.”

  “And did he act interested in you from the very beginning?”

  Madelyn wasn’t sure why this mattered to Miss Hazel. “Yes, he did. And I politely told him I wasn’t going to date my boss.”

  “All right.” Miss Hazel stood and walked to her desk, picking up a piece of paper and carrying it back. She settled back in her seat and took another sip of tea.

  Madelyn squirmed a little, wishing Miss Hazel would get on with whatever she’d asked her there for. Instead of asking any questions, she reached for another cookie, enjoying the taste. “These are wonderful cookies. They’re so light.”

  Miss Hazel smiled at that. “What do you know about Mounties?”

  “Mounties? The Royal Northwest Mounted Police? As much as anyone, I suppose. They police our great country.”

  “Yes, they do. My son is a Mountie.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m sure you’re very proud of him.” Madelyn had no idea where this conversation could possibly be going, but she’d do her best not to be rude.

  “I am. He and his wife are expecting my first grandchild.”

  Madelyn smiled at that. “Babies are a blessing from God.”

  “They are at that.” Miss Hazel studied her for another moment. “I’m a matchmaker. I found the right young lady to marry my son, and I took her to him. I’ve matched several Mounties with their wives now, and I’m becoming known within the Mountie organization.”

  “So you are a matchmaker who finds brides for Mounties?”

  Miss Hazel nodded. “You’d think that with as dashing as they look in those uniforms, they would be able to find their own wives, wouldn’t you?”

  “You would think.” Madelyn had never actually met a Mountie, but she’d seen photographs. She was sure they were much more dashing in full color, though.

  “I have a letter here I would like you to read. It’s from a Mountie stationed in Manitoba.”

  Madelyn accepted the letter and read through it slowly. She understood now. Miss Hazel had brought her here hoping she’d be willing to marry a Mountie. She was sure she wasn’t interested in marrying a stranger, but she was very interested in the letter that was in her hand.

  Dear Prospective Bride:

  I write to you to tell you about my situation. It’s my hope that you will take pity on me and become my bride.

  I’m a Mountie assigned to a small village in Southeastern Manitoba. There are three other Mounties here, and we all share duties. Mine are a bit more difficult for me because I’m raising three-year-old twin girls. My wife died in childbirth three months ago, and I find I’m incapable of raising the girls on my own. I need someone to care for my girls and my home. I’m not looking for love at the moment because I’m still very heartbroken over the death of my wife.

  I know this isn’t the romantic letter you were looking for, but I promise to be a good, faithful husband. I will provide as best I can. All I ask is that you love my girls.

  Sincerely,

  Gilbert Keeler

  Madelyn read the letter through once more, her heart going out to the poor man and his daughters. “I’ll do it.” She didn’t even think before she said the words. Why would she? She had known she was meant to be with them as soon as he mentioned his daughters.

  Miss Hazel smiled. “You didn’t think you were interested, did you?”

  Madelyn shook her head. “I didn’t. After reading his letter, I know I am. Those poor girls.”

  “My class starts Monday morning, bright and early. If you’d like, you’re welcome to move in now.”

  “What class?” Madelyn was suddenly lost again. She liked Miss Hazel, but her conversational skills seemed to be grossly lacking.

  “Oh, did I forget to tell you? I teach a week-long class for all the brides I place. I want to be certain they know how to cook, clean, and bake. Mounties don’t need to be disappointed by the woman who gets off the train to marry them.”

  “All right. I’ll be here Monday morning.” That meant leaving her job immediately, and she couldn’t be happier. The money wasn’t good, but more than that, Mr. Humphreys made her very nervous.

  “I think you should move in immediately. Your situation isn’t the same as most. You need to get away from that man.”

  Madelyn bit her lip, a habit her mother had always scolded her for. “I couldn’t impose on you that way.”

  “Impose? My dear, I’m a widow with no one around me unless I’m teaching a class. I would be very happy to have you here. A few extra days of companionship will please me to no end. I have another of the brides living here already, but she’s busy taking care of her daughter, who just had surgery. You two will live close to one another, and it would be good for you to become friends.”

  “I’d have to go get my things . . .” And frankly, she was afraid to do it. With the way Mr. Humphreys watched her every move, there was no way she could do it, unless she left at the dead of night, which wasn’t exactly safe.

  “I’ll send someone with you. Give me a moment to make a telephone call.”

  Telephone? She had a telephone? Madelyn had never even spoken on one, and Miss Hazel jumped up to make a call as if she did it all the time.

  Madelyn read through the letter twice more, her heart breaking for the little girls. She imagined Gilbert to be tall and much older than her. She had no idea how she’d feel about him when she met him, but the girls . . . she already knew she’d love them. Every little girl deserved a mother who would love her, and she was determined to be that mother.

  Twenty minutes later, she was sitting in an automobile with a stranger, being driven to her boarding house. The man had been instructed to wait out front for her while she packed her things, and if any man tried to bother her, he was to contact the police.

  She hurriedly packed her things, thankful she had such a tidy nature. Her room was virtually spotless already, and it was nothing to gather her belongings into her carpet bag and head for the door. As she opened it, she saw Mr. Humphreys leaning against the rail on the front steps.

  He caught her arm as she walked by. “Where are you going with all your things?”

  “That’s none of your business, Mr. Humphreys. Today was my last day of work as well. I hope you find a new waitress quickly.” She felt a burning in the pit of her stomach for leaving the restaurant with no notice, but she couldn’t tolerate the man for another day.

  “You’re supposed to work the afternoon shift tomorrow!”

  “You have harassed me for the last time, sir. I’m done with you. Now let go of me, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “You didn’t tell me where you’re going.”

  “To marry a Mountie. Do I need to send him to have a talk with you?” She knew the threat was empty, but she hoped he wouldn’t realize.

  He released her as if he’d been burned. “Marry a Mountie? You could have had me!”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Humphreys.” She rushed to the car waiting for her and climbed into it. The driver started the vehicle and headed back for Miss Hazel’s.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, sir. He may have if I hadn’t told him I was about to marry a Mountie, though.” She smiled, pleased with her solution. She had no desire to spend another moment in Mr. Humphreys’s presence, and now she wouldn’t have to.

  Once she was safely back at Miss Hazel’s home, she put her things in the room she was assigned. She quickly unpacked her things and descended the stairs to talk to Miss Hazel. “He was waiting for me, so I told him I was marrying a Mountie. He backed off pretty quickly.”

  Miss Hazel laughed. “I think that’s wonderful. He shouldn’t have pestered you to start with!”

  “No, he shouldn’t have. But I don’t have to worry about him any longer. Have I said ‘thank you’ yet, Miss Hazel?”

  “You don’t have to. I’m thr
illed to have another young lady to marry one of our men in red.”

  * * *

  Gilbert thanked the young lady who had been watching his children all day. She came over every day that he needed her, and he paid her what he could. He should never have taken Sally for granted. She’d been a good wife to him and a good mother to his girls.

  As soon as she was gone, he dropped to his knees and spread his arms for his girls. They ran to him, hugging him.

  “We missed you, Daddy,” Mary said. The girls looked similar, but thank heavens they weren’t identical.

  “I got a letter today,” he told them, standing up with one in each arm. “There’s a nice woman in Ottawa who is going to marry me and be your new mama.”

  “Will she be nice?” Millie asked. Millie was always worried about how people would treat her sister, but she wasn’t nearly as worried about how she’d be treated. Mary had a softer heart than Millie, and it was obvious to everyone around them.

  “I believe she will, but you girls will need to tell me if she’s not.”

  “What will you do if she’s not?” Mary asked, her eyes wide.

  Gilbert laughed softly. “Why, I’d have to stick her out in the snow.”

  Millie giggled. “I’ll be sure to tell you if she’s not nice to us.”

  He set the girls down and looked at the stove. The teen who watched the girls sometimes cooked for them, but more often than not, she left the job up to him. He reminded himself that he should be thankful she took the time to watch them. Even though she was paid, she was staying out of school to do it, which he hated.

  “Pancakes for supper?” he asked, a smile on his face.

  Mary groaned. “We had pancakes last night!”

  “And the night before!” Millie added.

  “Pancakes it is!” Bert knew that feeding his daughters pancakes every night was a form of cruelty, but the truth was, he couldn’t cook anything else. He got out a mixing bowl and quickly mixed up some batter.