A Cowboy for Christmas (Spinster Mail Order Brides Book 11) Read online

  A Cowboy for Christmas

  The Spinster Mail Order Brides #11

  Christine Sterling

  A Cowboy for Christmas

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  The book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. All rights are reserved with the exceptions of quotes used in reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.

  Scriptures quoted from the King James Holy Bible.

  All books titled or quoted in this story belong to their respective authors.

  A Cowboy for Christmas ©2019 Christine Sterling

  Cover Design by Virginia McKevitt,

  Black Widow Books

  Editing by Carolyn Leggo and Amy Petrowich

  1st Ed, 11/2019

  Table of Contents

  License Note

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  A Cowboy for Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

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  About Christine

  License Note

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  -- Christine Sterling

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  A Cowboy for Christmas

  A woman with nothing to lose. A man with everything to gain. Can a Christmas wish bring these lonely hearts together?

  Spinster Flory West has run out of options. She is turning twenty-eight and no decent man will look at her, especially now that she isn’t alone. After her parents died, she became the sole guardian of her ten-year old sister, Gloria. Needing to provide a home and security, she decides to take a chance on being a mail order bride. Not willing to wait for a response, she picks an ad and takes a train west with her sister to the little town of Nomad, Montana.

  Quite content with the life of a bachelor, Jonathan McRaney has it all. He runs his own cattle operation, has money in the bank, and owns his own house. The only thing he doesn’t have is a wife, and if he had his way, he would never get married. When a woman shows up in town, claiming to be his mail order bride, he has every intention of sending her away, once the next stage comes to town. What he didn’t count on was an entire town conspiring against him!

  Will Flory be able to convince Jonathan to go through with a marriage of convenience before the next stage arrives right after the holidays? Will a child’s Christmas wish show these two lonely hearts the true meaning of Christmas? Will Jonathan be able to let his new family go or convince Flory that she belongs with him on the range?

  Chapter 1

  December 1888, Nomad, Montana

  “Come on, Bug,” Flory West said, tugging on her sister’s arm. She pulled her younger sister towards the ticket booth. The trip to get to Nomad, Montana from Philadelphia had taken four days by train, six hours by stagecoach and most of her funds.

  Flory packed most of their belongings into a trunk and two carpet bags. Her trunk was too heavy to lift on her own, so it sat where the stage let them off. They were the only passengers disembarking in this small town.

  Nomad.

  How appropriate, Flory thought. She hadn’t seen anything for the past hundred miles. She looked over her shoulder at Gloria, dragging her feet. Her eyes were red from rubbing them.

  Flory gave the tiny hand one more tug. “We are here, Gloria. Just a bit longer and you’ll get a good night’s rest. We just must find our ride, that’s all. Then we’ll get settled.” She tugged at her sister again, groaning when the ten-year-old pouted and released her hand.

  “I’m tired, Flory. I want to go home.”

  Flory turned and dropped the two bags she was carrying on the ground. She knelt in front of the little girl. Gloria was eighteen years her junior but had been through more in her young ten years than most people had in a lifetime. She placed her hands onto Gloria’s shoulders before pulling her into a hug.

  “Now come on, June Bug,” she said, calling her sister their father’s nickname for Gloria. “We came all this way to have a new life. I promised you that, didn’t I? We’re going to be alright. You’ve just got to keep going for a bit longer, that’s all. I keep my promises, don’t I?”

  Gloria’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout and then she nodded, crossing her arms. “You always keep your promises,” she repeated, her voice soft in weariness.

  Flory’s heart squeezed in her chest as she looked at the tired face of her sister. Gloria looked more than just tired, she looked exhausted. Her tiny little face looked nearly sunken in and dark circles dragged her eyes downwards.

  The train ride had been far too uncomfortable to properly sleep during the trip. Flory couldn’t afford a private car, so they had to sleep sitting up in the passenger car. Flory vowed she never wanted to sit on a hard bench again.

  When they tried to sleep, the jostling beneath their feet would wake them up every few minutes. At least Gloria could use Flory as a pillow and get some rest.

  Gloria rubbed her eyes and started to whine. “Let’s just go home, Flory. I’m cold and I want to go home,” she pressed.

  Flory let out a sigh and rose to her feet. She tugged the thin coat around her sister’s shoulders. Flory didn’t realize it would be this cold in Montana. Flory took off her shawl and wrapped it around her sister, trying to ignore the chattering of her own teeth as the cold air enveloped her.

  This wasn’t the first time since stepping onto the train that Gloria had vocalized her desire to return home. There were points during the trip that Flory had even considered it herself, but already being on the trip itself had stopped her from doing so.

  She didn’t want to waste the money she spent on the trip. She knew it might be foolish that she didn’t wait for a response, but she had nothing to lose.

  After her parents died, the bank took almost everything they owned and sent a note to Flory that she was now responsible for her sister.

  Flory didn’t want anyone to send Gloria to an orphanage, or worse – a workhouse. She shuddered at some of the things she had heard about the children working in the factories. So, Flory had no choice but to take her younger sister in.

  Unfortunately, her employer was not as generous. Flory lost her governess job. There were no options in Philadelphia for a single woman and a young girl, so Flory jum
ped when the opportunity presented itself.

  Nomad, Montana, it appeared was their only hope.

  They’d get a new life; a fresh start. Flory would be able to make sure Gloria had a roof over her head, food in her belly and could continue her learning.

  Flory vowed she would do whatever was necessary to make sure that happened. The bonus was that she would get married, have a husband and finally abandon the spinster label that followed her the past ten years.

  Flory had never thought about being a mail order bride. Then she saw the advertisement in the back of the Philadelphia Inquirer looking for a wife for a remote location, she made the hasty decision. She was going to get married no matter what, even if it was to someone she didn’t know.

  Would she be able to love a stranger? Maybe in due time, after years of marriage possibly, but for now she just needed a home for her and her sister.

  She picked up the two bags, draping one over her shoulder. Giving a glance to make sure the trunk was still there; she grabbed Gloria’s hand and resumed the walk towards the booth ahead. Flory staggered slightly beneath the weight and because Gloria was still dragging her feet, but she pushed onwards, her eyes on the station in front of them.

  “Flory, I want to go home. Where Ma and Pa are. Why can’t we just go home?” Gloria whined, tugging at the hand that was holding onto her, but Flory gripped her tighter, refusing to let go so easily.

  “Because Ma and Pa aren’t there anymore, Bug,” Flory said with annoyance. She felt instantly contrite and gave Gloria’s hand a squeeze. “They are in heaven,” she told her sister softly.

  Gloria was quiet as they stepped up to the booth. Flory dropped both bags on the floor, and Gloria went to sit on the bench next to the building. She pulled the shawl around her and shivered slightly in the cold air.

  Flory knocked on the window to get the man’s attention whose back was turned to them. He jumped, startled by the interruption and spun around, smiling at them.

  “Good evening,” he greeted, eyes flicking to Gloria, who was now lying down on the bench. “How may I help you?”

  “Is there a carriage or anything to town? We’ve come a long way to find someone and just want to get there as quickly as possible.”

  The man nodded. “Depends on who you are looking for. We have rides that go every which way. It’s kind of late in the day, so everything has pretty much left already. Tell me who you are looking for, and I’ll see what I can do. I know most folks around these parts.”

  Flory nodded wearily, reaching into her pocket on the front of her dress and retrieved the newspaper she had been carrying for the last week. It was crinkled and some words had begun to smudge from how many times she had folded and unfolded it. She held it out, pointing to the ad she had pinpointed upon and showed him.

  “There. Mr. Jonathan McRaney.” She pushed it towards him once more until it hit his fingers, urging him to take it and look.

  His eyebrows knitted together as he held the smudged paper. “Does he know you’re coming?”

  Flory glanced at Gloria, who was sleeping on the bench. She shook her head as she returned her attention to the man. “No sir. I didn’t exactly have the time to wait for a reply. So, I just came.” She paused for a moment. “I did send a telegram to him announcing my arrival.”

  He glanced his eyes back over to Gloria, pursing his lips but his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. “You have a lovely daughter.”

  “Sister,” Flory corrected quickly, already tired of everyone mistaking Gloria for her daughter.

  Yes, she was old enough to be Gloria’s mother. Yes, the two looked similar enough. But that didn’t mean they were mother and daughter. Couldn’t anyone bother asking before assuming?

  She shuffled her feet, feeling the heaviness of her legs threatening to collapse underneath her. She put her hands on the counter, refusing to let herself fall.

  The man’s eyes slightly widened, but then understanding washed over them. He didn’t need to question why her sister was with her. His eyes flickered back to the newspaper and he handed it back to Flory. Then he disappeared underneath the counter and Flory could hear him rummaging.

  “Ah-ha!” he said, reappearing with a whistle in his hand. He gave her a quick smile. He blew into the whistle, a series of long and short bursts. Flory covered her ears at the sharp noise. He gave her a smile.

  “Do you do that for everyone that arrives?”

  The man smiled. “No. Not for everyone. Let me lock up and we’ll go.” A brisk wind rustled through the air causing Flory to shiver. “You should be wearing a coat,” the man said gently.

  Flory rubbed her arms. “I didn’t realize just how cold it was here.” She looked at Gloria shivering underneath her coat and Flory’s wrap. “I guess we weren’t prepared.”

  “Not to worry. Let’s get you somewhere warm. Name’s Thomas Brown.”

  “Flory West. That is my sister, Gloria.”

  Thomas nodded. “Give me a minute to leave a note and lock up.”

  Flory walked over to the bench where Gloria was sleeping. Her eyes flicked towards the sky. It was just turning dusk, and soon would be night and much colder than the breeze that swept her hair. There were low hanging clouds against the gray sky. Flory leaned down and gave Gloria a little shake. “Wake up, bug. We are going to Mr. McRaney’s. Soon we’ll have a warm bed.”

  Gloria nodded and sat up. She didn’t whine, and stood, wrapping her arms around Flory’s waist.

  The man flipped his sign, indicating he would be back soon and left the small booth. He looked at the sky and then at Flory. “Gonna snow soon,” he said. He handed Flory a scarf and a wrap. “They were left on the stage. No one claimed them, but they are clean and will keep you warmer than you are now.”

  “Th-thank you,” Flory stammered. She was overwhelmed by that little touch of kindness the man showed her. She wiped the tear that escaped with her gloved hand.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, ushering the girls away from the platform. “That your trunk?” he asked.

  Flory nodded. “I couldn’t carry everything.”

  “I’ll get it,” he said, lifting the trunk like it weighed nothing and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “You must have your entire household in here,” he chuckled.

  “Everything we own.”

  The man raised his eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Relief washed over Flory’s face as the man started to walk with the trunk on his shoulder.

  Flory smiled tiredly, nodding to his words, but couldn’t seem to get her tongue to work properly. Exhaustion was kicking at her and she had to keep herself going. She couldn’t let herself drop when she was this close to her destination.

  Just the thought of having to drag the trunk made her want to cry. She wasn’t lying when she said everything they owned was in that trunk and the two bags she carried. She packed as much as she could. The rest was sold off to pay her father’s debts.

  Even though they were leaving their life behind, Flory wanted Gloria to bring as much as she could so she would still have memories of home. She pulled the wrap tightly around herself and picked up the two bags. Gloria slid her small hand in Flory’s, and they followed the man.

  The trio walked in silence, away from where the stage dropped them off. Flory wondering where they could possibly be going. She at least expected a carriage, a wagon or even a horse. But there was nothing.

  The man continued to carry the trunk down the road, between two rows of buildings. Flory noticed that folks were coming out of the buildings and standing on platforms to watch them. She could hear the people talking, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  A few even pointed to Gloria. Flory gripped the little girl’s hand tighter and pulled her closer.

  “I don’t want to walk anymore, Flory,” Gloria whined.

  “You don’t have to. We are here.” Thomas led them into a warm building. Flory inhaled the air, letting the warmth fill her lungs. She could see that it was some type of barn
.

  There was a man attaching a horse to a wagon. He tipped his hat to Flory. “Ma’am,” he said. “I sure am glad you are here.”

  Flory was astonished. “Th-thank you. I think.”

  Thomas deposited her trunk in the back of the wagon. “Ready to go?” he asked the man who was checking the horse.

  “Yup. She’s all set, Thomas,” he said patting the horse on the rump.

  “Where are we going?” Gloria asked the man.

  “I’m taking you to Mrs. Winston’s house. You can get a hot meal and a warm bath. She has a room already prepared for you.”

  “We aren’t going to see Mr. McRaney?”

  Thomas shook his head. “He lives too far outside of town. He should be in town tomorrow to pick up supplies. I guess it is fortunate that you arrived when you did.”

  “I will pay you to take me there.”

  Thomas looked at her. “Do you really want to drive out there in the frigid cold? Do you think that is fair to your sister?”

  “No,” Flory relented.

  “Besides, you can go to the mercantile tomorrow and buy a real coat.” Thomas scrambled into the wagon bench and smiled at them. He held his hand out to Gloria. “You coming?”

  Gloria only hesitated a minute before grabbing Thomas’s hand and climbing into the back of the wagon. Flory took her seat next to Thomas and with a shout, the horses pulled the wagon forward.

  Chapter 2

  Jonathan McRaney lifted the bag to his shoulders and walked it to the back of his wagon. He was fortunate that it had been a good year for beef. He dropped the fifty-pound bag of coffee in the bed of the wagon and covered it with the blanket.

  He then repeated it with large bags of flour, sugar and salt. This was going to be his last trip to town until the spring thaw.

  “Snow’s held off,” Oskar Grant called to him. “I thought it was going to fall last night.” Oskar and his wife Minerva owned the mercantile and trading post. It was the cornerstone of the community and the only place to shop for hundreds of miles.