RNWMP_Bride for Samuel

  RNWMP: Bride for Samuel

  by Amelia C. Adams

  Thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Cissie, Erin, Laurie, Mary, and Meisje.

  ©2017 Amelia C. Adams

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter One

  Beth James moved up and down between the pews of her father’s church in Ottawa, straightening the hymnals in their holders. She loved these quiet moments before everyone arrived, before the organist began the prelude, when it was just her and her thoughts. She never minded the little tasks that went into keeping the church clean and tidy—it gave her the chance to think and ponder, and she felt that she was doing a real service in her own way. She’d never be an orator like her father, but she could give what she could.

  All too soon, the organist slipped into place, and before much longer, the members of the congregation began to file in. Beth slipped into her own seat and waited for the service to begin, knowing that her father had been up late the night before preparing his sermon. It was sure to be wonderful, as his sermons always were when he struggled so hard to bring them about.

  She heard a familiar voice and turned to see Miss Hazel Hughes entering the chapel. Oh, she loved Miss Hazel. That woman said whatever was on her mind and showed no fear. It was a delight to be around her, not only for her friendship, but to hear whatever audacious things she had to say. Beth could never be that brave. She guarded her words carefully, never wanting to do anything that would disappoint her father and his important role in their community.

  As she expected, her father’s sermon was beautiful and well-constructed. He stood at the doors of the chapel and greeted everyone as they streamed out, and Beth overheard many of the congregants thank him for his message. He received each compliment with humility, as he always did, and when the last had finally left, he turned to Beth with a sigh.

  “This becomes more exhausting every week,” he said, making his way to the back pew and sitting down.

  “Are you all right, Father?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You do look very tired.”

  “I’m all right—physically, that is, my dear. The doctor says I’ll live another thirty years. It’s my soul that’s so very tired. Every week, I teach the people about the dangers of sin, and every week, the sins of our people become greater and greater. The vices that hold them fast are winning, my dear, and I fear for them.”

  “But they’re still coming, aren’t they, Father? Doesn’t that give you hope?”

  “Sometimes I fear they only come because staying away would cause them to lose their standing in the community. Church has become a social club rather than a place of worship.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Even now, the women are standing on the lawn gossiping. They do that every week, just moments after hearing me decry the evil practice. Tell me, daughter, what good am I doing here?”

  “Oh, Father.” Beth patted his shoulder. “If it helps you at all, I’ve overheard those women before, and in truth, they’re talking about the needs of those in our neighborhood and how they can be of help. They’re planning where to bring soup and how to lift one another’s burdens. I do believe they’re trying to live what you’re teaching them.”

  He waved a hand. “Appearances, my dear. It’s their hearts that worry me.”

  Beth frowned. “But how do you know their hearts, Father? Isn’t it through their actions? And aren’t their actions good?”

  “Men will do things to be seen of other men, my dear.” He lifted himself from the bench. “Shall we go? I believe you said something about a pot roast.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Beth followed her father down the aisle of the church, feeling heavy. She trusted her father and his beliefs, but he seemed to be coming down awfully hard on the members of his congregation, and she couldn’t understand why. Of course, he was privy to quite a lot more than she was, but even acknowledging that fact didn’t bring peace. If she was honest with herself, she had to wonder if her father wasn’t losing his touch on reality.

  ***

  Samuel Murray pushed back his chair and stood, clutching a letter in his hand. “Commander Cooper, a word?”

  Easton looked up from his paperwork. “You’re calling me Commander? This must be serious.”

  “Just trying to set the tone for a proper conversation.”

  Easton laid down his pen, being sure to line it up with his inkwell. “All right, I’m ready.”

  “Well, it’s like this. My sister, Evelyn, is married to a Mountie, and they’re very happy living at his post in Squirrel Ridge Junction. They’re so happy, in fact, that she encouraged my brother Jonathan to use the same matchmaker to find him a bride, and they’re quite happy as well.”

  “And . . .”

  “And I was thinking that we might do the same here.” Samuel held his breath after he spoke. He realized he was asking something out of the ordinary, and his commander liked the ordinary. He liked knowing what to expect. This sort of conversation out of the clear blue sky likely wasn’t going to go over well.

  Easton raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Well, there’s this matchmaker, see, and if we send her letters and tell her what we’d like in a bride, she can arrange for them to come.”

  “They’d come out here? To Cougar Springs? What would we want with brides, Samuel? Our work keeps us busy—we wouldn’t even have time to ignore them properly. We’d have nothing to give them by way of entertainment or shopping. What could be gained by it?”

  “I think we’d have a lot to gain. The Bible says that man wasn’t meant to be alone. We need companionship in order to be the best men we can be.”

  Easton shook his head. “The Bible says that?”

  “Genesis 2:18.”

  “I don’t need the reference, Samuel.” Easton shook his head again. “We can discuss it as a group, but I’m not sure I think it’s wise. Women would be a distraction, one we don’t need.”

  Samuel disagreed, but he’d save his arguments for later when all the Mounties assigned to Cougar Springs were present. He’d felt restless of late, as though he needed to be accomplishing something more, doing something more, and he knew his work wouldn’t continue to satisfy him. He needed something else, something like a family. He’d grown up in a very close family himself, and he thought it would be just the thing.

  Of course, finding the right girl was mandatory, but that’s what this matchmaker seemed to be famous for.

  Chapter Two

  Over the course of the following week, Beth watched as her father became more irate and more disoriented. He strode around his study delivering long lectures to people who weren’t there, but when she asked him about it, he’d say he was practicing, that every good pastor had to rehearse his sermons in order to make sure they were effective. She knew that was the case, but she’d never seen him quite like this before.

  Finally, she called in the family doctor, who took her aside and spoke to her in a serious tone.

  “Your father is under a tremendous amount of stress because of the sins of his congregation,” he told her. “He must be fed warm broths and given his space to work through his emotional ailments.”

  Beth raised an eyebrow. “Is that based on what he told you, or on your examinatio
n of him?”

  The doctor shook his head. “I saw no need to examine him. We talked about his circumstances, and that was enough to convince me that he simply needs rest.”

  “I agree that he needs rest, but Doctor, I don’t believe the congregation is as wicked as he says. I’m surrounded by these people every day, and I see no evidence of the sin he’s so upset about. I believe he’s very sick and that it’s making him believe things that aren’t true.”

  Again, the doctor shook his head. “You are quite a young lady yet, Miss James, and you haven’t nearly enough experience to know such things. Why don’t you start him a nice pot of broth, eh? That will help more than almost anything.” With a condescending pat to her shoulder, he left, and Beth shuddered. What an unpleasant man.

  She chopped up beef and vegetables and set them to simmer for a hearty broth, then went about her regular chores. With only the two of them in the house and neither one of them very messy, she only had a bit of dusting and tidying to do. Then she sat down with her mending until the broth was ready.

  “Father?” She knocked on his study door with one hand, a small tray balanced on the other. “Father, I’ve brought you some soup, doctor’s orders.”

  He didn’t respond.

  She’d been taught never to walk into his office without an invitation, as he might be praying or counseling with a parishioner, but she knew no one else was there, and something told her she was needed. She opened the door slowly and peeked inside. Her father sat at his desk, slumped over to the side, and she dropped the tray as she ran across the room.

  “Father?” She touched his face—it was cold, and she could detect no breathing. “Father!”

  There was nothing.

  She stumbled back, then turned and ran out the front door, looking both ways. “Sir!” she cried out to a man approaching on the sidewalk. “Sir, my father needs the doctor. Can you please fetch him?”

  The man looked her up and down. She glanced down too and noticed she was covered in hot broth—odd that she couldn’t feel the heat. “All right,” he said. “I think you’d best sit down while you wait.”

  “Yes, of course. But please, hurry!”

  She watched as he hastened his pace and turned the corner toward the doctor’s house, then she went back inside and sat in the chair across from her father’s desk, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, staring at him without blinking for as long as she could. Just one breath. One twitch. Anything . . . anything at all. But no, and when the doctor came and pronounced him dead, all she could do was nod.

  ***

  “I don’t know what else we’re expected to do.” Mrs. Esther Duesenberry might have thought she was speaking quietly, but Beth could still hear her as she came down the stairs. “We’ve taken her in, we’ve given her a chance to mourn, and we’ve kept our eyes open for any available positions. Are we to adopt her now? What all is required?”

  “Esther, I believe you’re being rather harsh.” That would be Mrs. Evangeline Sparrow talking. “The poor girl lost her father just a few weeks ago. Give her time.”

  “I’ve given her time, and I’ve given her a place to stay. What more is there? And she refuses to go walking with George, my only unmarried son. He’s done her quite the favor by turning his attentions to her. ”

  “You could give her some compassion, and you know she hasn’t trespassed here. She’s taken up your mending and your errands—things you hate doing for yourself. She’s given you far more than you’ve offered her. If you’re weary of having her here, I’ll take her home with me this very day. She’s a pleasant, friendly girl who just needs a place to rest. She didn’t just lose her father—she lost her home.”

  Beth paused in the hallway outside the parlor, taking a deep breath, and then she entered. “That’s quite all right, Mrs. Sparrow. I appreciate your invitation so much, but I’m ready to find my own way now. I was merely coming downstairs to tell Mrs. Duesenberry as much and to thank her for everything.”

  “You are?” Both women seemed startled, her hostess most of all.

  “Where will you be going?” Mrs. Sparrow asked, concern on her face.

  “Never you mind about me. I’ll be quite happy.” Beth gave them each a nod, then slipped out of the room. As soon as she was out of sight, she closed her eyes and leaned against the stair railing. She shouldn’t have spoken so boldly—she’d let her pride take over, and now she had to follow through with action. What was she going to do now?

  ***

  When a knock came at the door later that afternoon, Beth was the only one home to answer it. Mrs. Duesenberry had gone visiting and the housekeeper was at the shop, so Beth smoothed down the front of her skirt and walked across the spacious foyer. She was quite surprised to see Miss Hazel Hughes standing on the front stoop.

  “Hello, Miss Hazel. I’m sorry to say that you’ve missed Mrs. Duesenberry.”

  “Well, I’m not sorry at all. In fact, I consider it a stroke of fate.” Miss Hazel’s bright eyes peered up at her. “It’s you I’ve come to see.”

  Beth stepped back to let the older woman enter. “Me? Well, I’m not sure what use I can be, but I’ll do what I can.”

  She led the way into the parlor and motioned for Miss Hazel to sit. “Would you like some tea? I know the kettle’s still hot.”

  Miss Hazel waved her into the chair opposite. “My dear, tea is exactly the last thing I want right now. Do you see how red my face is?” She blotted her cheeks with her handkerchief. “Be grateful that you’re still young and that you have years to go before you have to endure this . . . this evil condition.”

  “Are you all right, Miss Hazel? What can I do?”

  “If you could somehow magically transport me to outer Antarctica and let me roam free with the penguins, I’d be most grateful.” She leaned forward and fixed Beth with a look. “Penguins don’t get hot flashes, do they?”

  Beth blinked. “I . . . don’t think so.”

  “Good! That’s exactly what I want, then.” Miss Hazel settled back in her chair. “I must say, I was rather disappointed to hear that you’ve already made plans.”

  “Plans?” The change of subject was so abrupt, and Beth was still so confused about penguins, that she had no idea what Miss Hazel was talking about.

  “I ran into Mrs. Sparrow on the street just now. She says you’re leaving, that you’ve made other arrangements. That spoils everything I had planned, but I suppose I must be happy for you. It’s my Christian duty.”

  “Actually, Miss Hazel, I don’t have anything in mind. I only said I was leaving because Mrs. Duesenberry has been . . . well, she’s been very begrudging about my visit, and I didn’t feel I could stay any longer. Truth be told, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going, and the newspaper isn’t giving me much hope. There’s not a single listing for a suitable job today.”

  “Well, that’s just wonderful!” Miss Hazel clasped her hands in front of her stomach and beamed.

  “I’m not sure how this is wonderful,” Beth said slowly. “I’ve put myself out of a home—I should think that was very foolish.”

  “Oh, not at all. It was meant to be, my dear, and I’ll tell you why. I’m sure you’ve heard about my newest enterprise—matchmaking for Mounties? Oh, that does have a nice ring to it. I should put that on a business card. ‘Hazel Hughes—matchmaker to the Mounties.’ Alliteration has always thrilled me.”

  “It does sound nice,” Beth said hesitantly.

  “Doesn’t it? But that’s neither here nor there. We’re going to discuss your future, young lady. Tell me. Have you ever considered living in Alberta?”

  Goodness. Beth was starting to get a headache. “No, I never have.”

  “Well, let me assure you, it could be a wonderful thing. You see, I’ve recently been contacted by four Mounties stationed in Cougar Springs who are looking to get married. One of them is a particularly nice young man named Samuel Murray who has requested a wife with a religious background. Of course you came to mi
nd immediately, my dear. You’re quite alone in the world now, aren’t you?”

  Her tone was so filled with compassion that it brought tears to Beth’s eyes. “Yes, I am. Father was my only relative.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Miss Hazel reached out and touched Beth’s hand. “I can’t help but feel that this is the answer. You’ve nowhere to go, and adventure awaits. Just imagine—a whole province you’ve never seen, a young man eager to give you a stable home, and new friends. I believe you’d thrive there, my dear.”

  Beth’s stomach churned at the thought of leaving Ottawa, but she knew she no longer had a place here. As the reverend’s daughter, she had been respected, but now she was a burden. Of course she could take up Mrs. Sparrow on her offer, and there were any number of good families in the neighborhood who would also take her in, but maybe she didn’t want to be “taken in.” Maybe she wanted a place of her own where she truly mattered.

  “How do you know he’s a good man, Miss Hazel? What if he’s written you a bunch of lies just to trap me?”

  “I don’t blame you at all for being concerned, my dear. Why, he could be a downright scoundrel, couldn’t he?”

  Beth nodded.

  “Except I know he’s not!” Miss Hazel sounded triumphant. “He’s the brother to Evelyn, one of the very first brides I ever matched.”

  “Oh, I know Evelyn,” Beth said. “I never knew her brothers, though. They were all off at the academy or some such when Father and I came here.”

  “The Murrays are a wonderful family,” Miss Hazel went on. “After I matched Evelyn, I found a bride for her brother Jonathan. My goal is to marry off every single member of that family. Wouldn’t that be marvelous?”

  “What if the others find their own matches?” Beth asked with a smile.

  Miss Hazel waved a hand. “Nonsense. They’d be perfectly miserable doing that—everyone should just come to me and save themselves years of regret and unhappiness.”

  Beth wasn’t at all sure how to reply to that, so she decided to let it be. “What would I have to do?”