A Bride for Elijah Read online

  A Bride for Elijah

  The Proxy Brides Book #9

  Christine Sterling

  A young woman with a reputation, a pastor being pressured to marry, a marriage that might destroy them both.

  Nineteen-year-old Autumn Reed has lost everything -- her parents, her home and her reputation. When she is offered an opportunity to start over in Sulphur Springs, Montana, she jumps at the chance.

  Pastor Eli Barnes is pressured to get married by his congregation. He has no intention of marrying any of the local women in town, so he sends a letter to his brother asking Jacob to find him a proxy bride.

  When Autumn arrives, she doesn't meet any of the criteria Eli requested. Her flaming red hair and fiery temper make him rethink the marriage; plus, she is fourteen years younger than him!

  Autumn is convinced she exchanged one type of prison for another. She can deal with the taunts and gossip from the townspeople, but not the rejection from her new husband.

  Can Autumn heal the thoughts of abandonment and embrace the new life in front of her? Can Eli see past the surface and realize that Autumn really is a gift from God?

  Table of Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

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  Sneak Peek

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  Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful. Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.

  —Luke 6:36-37 KJV

  Chapter 1

  Spring 1891 —Philadelphia

  Autumn Reed wiped the tears from her cheeks. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop crying. As she sat by herself on the bench in the middle of South Garden Park, she tried to hide her eyes from the people passing by. A few gave her long gazes, but she turned away before they could make eye contact with her. If they stared too long, she was worried that they would recognize her and that would do her no good.

  She was afraid that someone would find her and alert the authorities to her whereabouts; though, she told herself, that it was still too soon for anyone to know that she was gone. Yet.

  Even though she told herself this, it still didn’t stop her mind from wondering about every person that looked at her walking by.

  She knew what she looked like.

  A waif.

  A vagabond.

  She wore a blue dress that had seen better days. It was torn at the hem and patched on the skirt. Her coat was two sizes too small, her fiery red hair was barely restrained by a small bow and her green eyes that normally sparkled were now swimming with tears. She knew she didn’t belong here in this park, among these people who thought they were better than her.

  She looked to the side of the park. There was a large tree on a hill. When her mother was still alive, she would take Autumn and her little sister, Sabrina, to that tree and read them stories. There were tales of princesses and frogs, knights and dragons, thieves and lamps. Her mother loved it whenever she and Sabrina took turns acting out the stories.

  She loved that tree and the time she spent there. Sometimes they would stay under that tree past nightfall, and their father would have to come and collect them home.

  Her father worked for a prominent shipping company and had accrued a small fortune that allowed them to live in high society. Their mother was a prominent socialite before she married Autumn’s father.

  Autumn loved the life she lived. She had almost everything she could ever want: maids and governesses, hearty meals and the best clothes and toys.

  Though they had been brought up by other people, their mother had always had an important presence in their lives. She would make time for them whenever she could, and Autumn would come to cherish those times, although she never appreciated them when they were happening. She wished she could go back to that time, when she had her happy family and needed nothing else.

  She remembered the night that everything changed. It was the first weekend of December, right after she turned 17. Two fateful years ago.

  Her parents had bought tickets to see a brand-new play A Christmas Carol at the theater in town. Sabrina had been looking forward to it for months. It was the first time Sabrina was going to the theater. She was so excited.

  Autumn didn’t want to go. She had been invited to a holiday party by Poppy Miller. She wasn’t friends with Poppy, but all the girls in their class were invited. She understood from Poppy that there would be many boys there, including Grayson Miller, who was home from university. Autumn had a huge crush on Poppy’s brother that started when they first went to school together.

  She wanted to go to the party so badly, that she lied to her parents about being sick. It enabled her to get out of going to the play. Instead, she snuck out of the house that night and shimmied down a tree by her window to go to Poppy’s party. She had a good time and returned to sneak back in the house before her parents returned.

  When she crawled back through her bedroom window, she fell on the floor at the feet of Mrs. Henderson, the head maid.

  Instead of the tongue lashing she expected, Mrs. Henderson burst into tears and informed her that her parents’ coach overturned on the ice and everyone on board was killed. Even now, as she sat on that bench, she couldn’t remember the words that Mrs. Henderson said after that. Autumn could only remember her lips moving and the world spinning. When she woke up again, she was in her bed. She hoped it had all been a dream, but it wasn’t.

  Autumn wiped her eyes again and looked around the park. She noticed that several women looked at her with pity. They must not know who she was… or what she’d done.

  She wiped away her tears again, looking down at the sleeve of her coat. She looked at the damp spots and the fraying strings at the end, curling up around her fingers. She knew her eyes were red and swollen and her skin was probably blotchy.

  Autumn knew she should probably move, but she couldn’t bring herself to go anywhere. She wasn’t even sure where she could go.

  She looked back at the tree, the one that held so many good memories for her family. She wished she could go back to that time, to when everyone was still alive, so she wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “What’s wrong, my child?” a deep voice said, pulling Autumn out of her thoughts.

  She looked over to see that it was an older gentleman in a long gray coat. He had deep lines on his face and a kind smile. His eyes were warm and inviting. But she had been fooled before by such appearances.

  She gave a sniffle and put her chin up. “I’m fine,” she said in a short, clipped voice. She wiped her wet eyes again. “I just have hay fever.” She hoped he’d believe her and be on his way

  “This time of year? The flowers aren’t out yet.” He sat down next to her and looked around the park at the people walking by. “It seems you have been crying for a while.” He looked back at her. “What makes you so sad?”

  She wanted to tell him to go away, to leave her alone in her depression. But a part of her craved human interaction; some
thing she had been denied for so many years.

  And he didn’t seem to be sent by her Aunt or to be looking for her.

  She searched his eyes again, trying to see if he recognized her at all; his eyes stayed firmly on hers with no appearance of recognition. “Something terrible has happened,” Autumn finally said, as she looked down at her hands.

  “What could be that terrible?”

  She grasped her fingers, nervously pulling them. She didn’t know how to begin, nor did she know how much she wanted to tell him. She looked around, noticing a group of men at the far end looking around. She wasn’t sure they were looking for her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before they would be at the bench. She didn’t want to take that chance.

  “It isn’t safe here to speak,” she said in a small whisper.

  “If you need secrecy, let’s go to my church,” he said, as he motioned to the church on the outside of the garden. She had seen that church many times, walking past it as she walked with her mother to her favorite spot. She had only been inside it a few times, when Mrs. Henderson would bring her and Sabrina there on Sundays when her parents were out having brunch with their friends.

  She had always thought the ceremonies were pointless and boring; she had always joked with her sister that she was surprised she didn’t burst into flames when she had entered.

  But now she was looking at the building not as a place of mockery but as a place of sanctuary. She knew that they wouldn’t be looking for her in there and she desperately wanted to go to it.

  When the gentleman offered his hand, she grasped it, relishing in his warmth. He lifted her from the bench and they both walked quickly to the church. She didn’t dare look back for fear that the men were following her. She didn’t breathe until they were behind the doors and inside a dim but spacious room, with pews lined up on either side of the walls. There was a beautiful stained-glass window in the front of the room that allowed rays of light to cascade onto the podium in the front. She walked down the aisle, between the pews, looking around. It hadn’t changed since the last time she had been here; only the walls had aged a bit.

  “You’re safe now,” he said, in a calm voice. She turned to look at him, as he smiled at her. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. His smile didn’t carry any of the underlying cruelty she experienced these last two years. She didn’t think he wanted something from her; he only cared about her wellbeing.

  “I haven’t been in here for years,” she said, as she walked further into the church. “It hasn’t changed.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” he said.

  “You are probably correct. I usually try to shrink into the shadows,” she said. She couldn’t remember what the sermons were about or who were giving them when she attended with Mrs. Henderson. “I never paid much attention to the homilies. Honestly, I find the sermons boring.”

  “I’m Jacob Barnes, the pastor in this church,” he said, as he moved towards the pulpit up front.

  “Oh, I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so crass when I was talking about being here.”

  Pastor Jacob laughed. It was a full and loud laugh that filled the whole church. It sounded so much like her father’s laugh it made Autumn’s stomach clench with sadness. “You don’t offend me, child,” he said with a full smile. “I find it refreshing when someone is honest. Sometimes, I feel the congregation tells me what I want to hear. Maybe you can help me make my sermons more interesting.”

  Autumn shook her head. “I don’t think I’m the right person for that,” she said with a sad smile.

  Pastor Jacob stared at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He has kind eyes, she thought to herself. “What would make you say that?” he asked. He stepped towards her. “Do you not believe?”

  She was taken by surprise with his questions. She didn’t know exactly how to answer him. She felt she had lost her way, especially these years. While the church was never a big part of her life, her mother would say prayers with Autumn and her sister at bed time.

  As Autumn got older, she would still kneel with her mother and Sabrina, but her mind would go blank. It was as if God had stopped communicating with her. And after everything that had happened to her, she wasn’t quite sure he was even there.

  “I’m not sure,” she finally said, as she turned away from him. “I feel as if God is punishing me.”

  She could hear him sigh behind her. “God does not punish us. He only gives us what we can handle. If you are facing hardships now, it is meant to give you strength. The good times will come back to you.”

  “Strength?” she said, stifling a laugh that died in her throat. “How can I find strength when I’m all but falling apart?”

  She felt him behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder and directed her to the first pew. “Let’s sit,” he said. When they were sitting, he grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it. “What troubles you?” he asked. Autumn sat there frozen in fear. When he saw the distress on her face, he gave a gentle nod. “Nothing you say to me will leave these walls. Trust me, I want to help you.”

  She looked down at the hand that had held hers a moment before, to the fraying cuff of her jacket, and then back at his kind face. She had spent the last three years keeping her emotions inside her. She would tell herself that she needed to endure if she wanted to escape. But all the endurance in the world couldn’t have helped her for what happened recently.

  Autumn looked around the church again. There was a wooden sculpture of Jesus on the cross on the wall looking at her. She studied the sculpture, willing Jesus to come down from the cross and speak to her. Finally, a feeling of safety washed over her like a warm blanket. She felt it in her heart and it expanded outwards. It was as if Jesus was telling her to talk to Pastor Barnes.

  As if the chains of the last three years fell away, her life story came tumbling from her lips. She started to tell what happened that night, as best as she could without choking up with sadness. The party that she wanted to go to and the theater date she had. The words she said to her sister, the ones that will stay with her forever. Coming home from all that jubilation only to find out that her worst fears had happened.

  Not being able to stop, she told him what had happened next. Her deepest darkest secret and the shame she carried.

  Chapter 2

  “A week after the funeral, this debt collector shows up at the house. Everything was sold. And I ended up living with my mother’s sister. I didn’t even know I had an aunt, Mother never talked about her. When I finally met her, I knew why.”

  Autumn continued, wringing her hands. “My mother was gentle and nice and everything good. There was no good in this woman.”

  Autumn shivered as she recalled meeting her aunt for the first time. Her aunt, Hortense, had years of hard living written on her face. Her cheeks were sunken in, her eyes bulging over a sharp nose. Her hair, Autumn recognized as the same color as her mother’s, was dull and lifeless as it clung to her scalp. She licked her lips often, resulting in them chapping.

  If she hadn’t been told that they were blood related, she wouldn’t have known they were.

  Autumn should have known then that this was not the warm family she was hoping for. She should have known when she looked at her face and didn’t see any happiness; only cold, dead eyes looking back at her.

  Autumn moved in with her aunt almost immediately, with the few possessions she had. Her aunt and her husband had an apartment on the other side of town. It wasn’t the best location; she had always been told by those around her to avoid the area. Then she met her aunt’s husband.

  Uncle Albert was a big and burly man, with hairy arms. Autumn was sure the hair on his arms compensated for the lack of it on top of his head. He embraced her for a little too long when they first met. Autumn thought he smelled of old tobacco, stale liquor and perspiration. But it was the way he looked at her that gave her an unsettling feeling, so she avoide
d him after that first meeting.

  “I was able to keep avoiding him for a while. Auntie put me to work in the factory sewing dresses. Uncle Albert would take my pay and use it for drinking. I was able to hide a few coins but when they started to catch on, he beat my Aunt and then me.”

  Pastor Barnes winced. He could still see the fading of bruises on her cheeks, which made him wonder what bruises he couldn’t see. “That must have been very difficult.”

  Autumn patted her pockets feeling for her handkerchief. She wiped her nose and continued. “It was. I just kept waiting until I was older, so I could make an escape.”

  “How old are you now, Autumn?”

  “I just turned 19. I went to live with them when I was 17.”

  “You had the option of living on your own.”

  Autumn thought about that. “I didn’t think that was really an option. I know many of my friends were getting married when they turned 18, there just weren’t any suitors that were appropriate.” She shuddered again.

  “I’ll be right back,” Pastor Barnes said as he stood up and went to a room on the side of the church. Autumn chastised herself. The Pastor wasn’t interested in listening to her story. In fact, just repeating it was making her melancholy.

  Pastor Barnes returned and held a cup of water out to Autumn. She took the glass, murmuring her thanks and took a sip from the glass.

  He sat back down next to her and patted her hand. “Finish your story about your uncle.”

  Autumn sighed. “I think I told you Auntie sent me to work in the factories.” Pastor Barnes nodded. “I always stood out.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Autumn scoffed. “Look at my hair. It is conspicuous. It drew a lot of unwanted attention.”

  “From men?”

  Autumn nodded. “I have been accused of being a loose woman. Wives would see their husbands staring at me and I’d be called a witch, or worse. As if my red hair was entrancing their husbands to be wicked.”