Mail Order Mommy

  Mail Order Mommy

  A Brides of Beckham Story

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Copyright © 2019 by Kirsten Osbourne

  All rights reserved.

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Also by Kirsten Osbourne

  About the Author

  One

  Berniece Johnson sat in Josephine’s Café in Beckham, Massachusetts, trying to force herself to smile at the man her parents had chosen for her to marry, Albert Chase. Mr. Chase had been her father’s boss for as long as she could remember, but the truth was, he was not a pleasant man. Not at all.

  “So, your mother tells me that she has employed a seamstress to make you the perfect dress and a trousseau. I adore the color red, so you must be certain that all of your bed clothes are in crimson.” Albert smiled at her, and it made her stomach roll. She couldn’t imagine going to bed with the man. He was older than her father.

  “Don’t you think it would be better for you if you found a woman . . . closer to your age?” Berniece asked in a whisper. She knew it would offend him, but if she was careful, perhaps he would break their engagement, and she could still have a good relationship with her parents. She dearly wanted them to be happy with her, even though they’d arranged a marriage for her with this odious man.

  He frowned. “A woman my age would be past her childbearing years, wouldn’t she? Are you trying to deprive me of children?”

  “No, sir. Of course not. But I’m only nineteen. I cannot imagine you want to be married to a woman who is young enough to be your daughter.” Or granddaughter. Berniece kept her voice soft, hoping he would find the words less scathing if she didn’t speak them loudly.

  “You will be punished for those words on our wedding night,” he said calmly as he brought his water to his lips. “You need to learn that you cannot talk to your husband that way.” His eyes looked positively gleeful that he would have an excuse to “punish” her, and it made her feel sick all over again. He was not a man any reasonable woman would have chosen for her husband, and she couldn’t marry him, but she also couldn’t disobey her parents.

  “I was just suggesting you might be happier with someone else.” Berniece was desperately afraid of this man. She couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. But whatever it was, it frightened her, and she didn’t want to be part of a marriage to him. She didn’t want to have to look at him.

  “Haven’t you ever been taught that you shouldn’t speak every little thought that pops into your head?” A slow smile crossed his face. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy teaching you that.”

  A shudder ripped through her. She couldn’t marry this man. Anything would be preferable to a life tied to him. Anything. “I’ll be more careful with my words.”

  “Yes, you will.” He put his napkin on his plate and stood up. He’d already paid the bill, so he held out his arm for Berniece to take it. Seeing no other option, she slipped her hand into the curve of his arm, fully aware that people were watching them. She tried not to care, but she did. She didn’t even want to be seen with this man, let alone be married to him.

  They left the café and walked the short distance toward her home. “I’ll work on coming up with just the right punishment for your words. I’ll let you know what I’ve decided on when we see each other Saturday night. Then you can anticipate what will happen to you for the two months leading up to our wedding.” He seemed extremely proud of his suggestion.

  She felt like vomiting. Finally, she’d managed to say to him what she thought should be said, and this was his reaction. She could not marry this man. Ever. “All right.”

  “I look forward to the day when you are my wife and I can turn you over my knee and paddle you as you deserve. Your parents have been much too lax with you, Berniece.” He stopped in front of her house. “Invite me inside.”

  She nodded. “Would you like to come inside, Mr. Chase?” She didn’t dare disobey him at this point.

  “And that adds a little more to whatever punishment I decide upon. I’ve told you repeatedly to call me Albert.” He opened the door and went into the parlor, where both of her parents were sitting. Her father smiled, obviously pleased they were together, while her mother didn’t look up from her needlepoint.

  Berniece sat on one end of the sofa, hoping that Albert would sit on the far end. She’d have chosen a chair, but her parents occupied the only two chairs in the room.

  “Did you have a nice time?” her father asked.

  Berniece wanted to scream that it had been awful, but she let Albert answer for her instead, which he did as he sat in the middle of the couch, making sure his body was against hers. “You haven’t done a very good job of teaching your daughter to be obedient, George. It’s going to be my pleasure to teach her how to speak to her husband.” The slow smile that crossed his face had Berniece stuffing her fist against her mouth to cover the gag that wanted to erupt.

  George smiled. “I’m sure you’ll take great pleasure in that.” He nodded toward Berniece’s mother. “I remember teaching Mary the same sorts of lessons when we were first married.” He let out a booming laugh. “Sometimes I still spank her, just so she remembers. She doesn’t even have to do anything wrong.” He smiled at his wife affectionately. “Don’t I, Mary?”

  Mary made a slight nod of her head, still not looking up from her needlepoint. Berniece made a mental note to herself that her mother opposed the marriage. She’d have to find a time to speak with her alone. Perhaps she could convince her mother that this marriage wasn’t in her best interests. She couldn’t imagine her mother actually helping her get away, because she never defied her father, but maybe she could find some sympathy there at least.

  Albert laughed as well. “I hope you know that I’ll do what it takes to turn Berniece into a good wife.” He reached over and covered Berniece’s hand with his. “And now we’d like a moment alone for some sparking if you don’t mind.”

  Berniece minded. She wanted to scream that she needed her parents to stay, but she knew that would not go over well at all.

  George nodded. “Come along, Mary.”

  Berniece’s mother looked up for the first time since they’d entered the room. Her eyes were blank. “Yes, dear.” She followed her husband from the room, not looking even once at her daughter.

  Albert turned to Berniece. “That’s how you’ll behave toward me soon. I will not allow your disobedience and rude ways to continue.” He gripped her shoulders tightly as he slammed his mouth down onto hers. It was a punishing kiss, and there was no doubt in her mind that it was deliberate for the way she’d spoken to him.

  When he finished, he grinned and wiped a trace of blood away from her mouth with his finger. “I’ll go now. I want you to dream about what punishments you have in store for you, my dear.” With those words, he stood up and headed for the door. “Just two months until our wedding. I’m counting down the days.”

  As soon as he’d left, Berniece buried her face in her hands and cried. How did her parents expect her to marry that monster?

  Berniece managed to corner her mother the following morning. She spoke to her softly as they washed the dishes together. “I’m not sure I can marry Mr. Chase. He’s not a kind man.”

  “Ne
ither is your father. It’s a woman’s lot in life to marry whatever man her father chooses for her. I tried to talk your father into a man closer to your age who wasn’t as . . . cruel, but he refused. You have no choice but to marry him.” Her mother handed her a plate to dry. She’d obviously given up on helping her only child.

  “But, Mama, surely you can see that marrying him would ruin my life. I have bruises on my shoulders from where he squeezed them last night.”

  Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Berniece, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  Berniece nodded. She knew her mother would help her if it all possible, so it must not be possible. “Do you mind if I go to the mercantile today? I would like to see if I can find a new novel or perhaps a book of poetry.” Her reading took her away from her life and transported her to a place that was free of abusive men. She needed another book or twelve to make it through the next week.

  Her mother nodded. “Of course, you may.” After a moment, her mother added, “I wish I could help you, Berniece. I can’t, though. Surely you can see that.”

  “I do see that, Mama. Thank you for letting me go to the store.” At least she would have a few minutes alone, during which she could walk around town, pretending she was engaged to a man she could actually love. Her imagination was all she had left.

  An hour later, the dishes were done and her household chores for the day had been accomplished, so she put on a stylish hat and headed to the mercantile. The store was a fifteen-minute walk, and she enjoyed every moment of it, passing by people on the streets who didn’t know her or only knew her a little. She nodded at everyone as they walked along, in her own little world.

  At the mercantile, she lingered in the back, reading all the notices on the bulletin board. Each one of them gave her something to daydream about. One family needed a nanny for their daughter, and she imagined moving in with them and taking care of the little girl while she hid her whereabouts from her family and Albert. It wouldn’t work, of course, but the idea was perfectly lovely.

  At the bottom of the bulletin board was a notice she had seen many times in the past but never actually considered. “Mail Order Bride agency needs women who are looking for the adventure of their lives. Men out West need women to marry. Reply in person at 300 Rock Creek Road. See Mrs. Elizabeth Tandy.”

  She stared at the ad for a full five minutes before she chose a book of poetry, paid, and left the mercantile. Instead of heading for home, she walked toward Rock Creek Road, wondering if she’d have the courage to actually go to the door and speak with Mrs. Tandy. She knew she had to try. She had no other choice. A life with Robert Chase was the last thing she wanted or needed in her life.

  When she got to the door, she took a deep breath and knocked, waiting for someone to answer. A tall blond man stood looking at her for a moment. She fought to get the words past her throat. Usually she wasn’t a meek person, but she was so terribly afraid of everything that could go wrong, she couldn’t find words. “I’m here to see Mrs. Tandy.”

  “Yes, of course.” He opened the door for her. “I’m Bernard Tandy.” Leading her down a long hallway to the last room on the left, he knocked softly on the open door. “Elizabeth?”

  A beautiful woman, who was obviously very pregnant, stood up and walked toward them. “Hello. I’m Elizabeth Tandy. Please come in and have a seat.” Then she turned her attention to the man there. “Would you bring us some tea and cookies? I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.”

  Bernard smiled and nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

  Elizabeth returned to the seat behind the desk and slowly lowered herself into her chair. She waited for a moment for Berniece to say something, but finally she spoke after a long silence. “You’re here about the ad.”

  Berniece nodded. “I am.” She was glad there was no one listening to them as she leaned forward earnestly. “I’m in desperate need of your help. My father is forcing me to marry a man who is more than thirty years older than I am. I suggested he marry someone closer to his age, and he’s talked about nothing but punishing me since. I have bruises on my shoulders, and he made my lip bleed last night when he kissed me.” She shook her head. “He actually seemed pleased to see the blood. I cannot spend my life with a man like that.”

  Elizabeth frowned, shaking her head. “No, you can’t. How will your parents feel about you marrying someone else, though?”

  “They won’t allow it. That’s why I need to find a way to get out. I’ll have to leave in the dead of night. Well, my mother probably wouldn’t say anything if I left during the day, but my father isn’t much different than Albert.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Albert Chase?”

  “Yes, I take it you know him?”

  “Yes, I do. Unfortunately, I’ve had business dealings with him. You’re right. You have to leave, and you have to do it quickly.” Elizabeth pursed her lips as if thinking about it. “You won’t be able to take much. Do you have a carpet bag? If not, I can give you one. You’ll want to fill it with only clothing and leave just as soon as we can manage. I’ll wait up for you tonight. Pack your things and come here as soon as your parents are asleep.”

  Berniece sagged against the back of the sofa. “I’ll have to get out of town quickly. They’ll be looking for me.” She was so thankful she’d found someone who wanted to help her that she couldn’t express it. She wanted to jump up and hug Elizabeth, thanking her for even considering her problem.

  “Yes, they will.” Elizabeth reached for a stack of papers on her desk. “I think I know just the situation for you. My younger sister, Charlie, is married to a man in Montana. His brother needs a wife, and if it doesn’t work out between the two of you, Charlie will help you. I know she will.” She pulled two letters from a stack and handed them to Berniece. “One is from Charlie, and one is from Kane, the man in question. Read them and tell me if Kane sounds like a man you could be happy with. Either way, I’ll send you to Charlie, and she’ll help you.”

  Berniece read the letter from Charlie first, and she smiled. “He sounds like he’s a good man.” Then she flipped to the letter from Kane, and she frowned.

  Dear Potential Bride,

  I’m looking for a mother for my daughter, who is not quite six months old. My wife died in childbirth. I’m not looking for a wife. I’ve had one, and she’s dead. I want someone who will be a mother and nothing more. You will be expected to cook, clean, and care for my child, but there is nothing more that will be expected of you. I will provide you a room of your own. I don’t care what you look like or how old you are as long as you’re willing to be a mother to my little girl.

  I am a rancher in Montana, and the winters are brutal. I don’t want you to come here looking for a fairy-tale ending to your journey, because it won’t happen. I’m offering you a life of hard work and little else. If this sounds like what you want in life, then please, come to me.

  Sincerely,

  Kane Burton

  Reading the letter once more, Berniece shook her head. “A woman would have to be truly desperate to respond to this letter.” She gave a half laugh. “Good for him; I’m that desperate. Should I write him back?”

  “Yes, write him. I’ll send your letter with mine to my sister.” Elizabeth smiled. “If you’re not able to bring yourself to marry him, I’ll make sure Charlie takes care of you.”

  “I won’t back out of a marriage with him. He’s saving me from Mr. Chase.” Berniece accepted the writing materials the older woman offered and quickly wrote a letter. “When will I leave?”

  “I’ll make sure that letter goes out in today’s post, and you can leave tomorrow or the day after.”

  “My parents have a party tomorrow night. It will be easier for me to sneak out during the party than it will while they’re sleeping.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “That’s perfect. I will have one of the bedrooms readied for you, and we’ll see to your train ticket today.”

  “Thank
you so much.” Berniece didn’t even have the words to express how grateful she was to the other woman for getting her out of the situation she found herself in. She finished her letter and passed it to Elizabeth. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then.”

  “Oh, if you can, you need to stay for tea and cookies. I’m sure Bernard will be back with them in a moment.”

  Berniece tilted her head to one side. “Is Bernard your husband or your butler?”

  “He’s both. He started out as my butler and bodyguard, and we married, but he kept doing the butler and bodyguard work. He said he wouldn’t know what to do being a man of leisure.”

  The cookies arrived then, and Berniece took one as well as the tea Elizabeth poured into a delicate china cup for her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. I took over this business so I could help people like you, and I usually go to the train station with my brides, but I’d rather not walk that far in my condition,” Elizabeth said, putting her hand over her stomach. “So, I’ll tell you what I tell women right before they get on their trains for their journeys. If anything goes wrong with this marriage . . . and you discover your new husband doesn’t treat you properly, you only have to write to me. I will send you a train ticket to come right back. Though, in your case, it might be best if you just talk to my sister. She’ll help you.”

  Berniece smiled. “Thank you. That’s the kind of reassurance I need. There is no doubt in my mind how I would be treated if I stayed here.”

  “There’s none in mine either. You need to be careful when you marry. Men will take advantage.” Elizabeth sighed as she finished her cookie, and Berniece got to her feet. “I believe that now our business is finished, I will have Bernard mail these letters for me, and I will take to my bed. Naps have become my new favorite thing with this child weighing so heavily on me.”