Free Mail Order Bride Leah: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Montana Mail Order Brides Series Book 1) by Rose Jenster
Authors: Rose Jenster
kindle into a powerful yearning that made her hands tremble and her heart race. He crushed her in his arms, kissing her so deeply she felt breathless. She knew her legs would not hold her, so she clung to the front of his shirt, supported only by his arms. In one swift motion, he swept her feet out from under her and lifted her, kissing her all the while as he carried her to their shared bedroom.
* * *
Henry woke at dawn as usual to see to his horses. He lingered in bed, looking at his new bride, fast asleep on her pillow beside him. He brushed her hair back from her face tenderly and kissed her forehead, careful not to disturb her sleep.
When Leah woke in the morning with a joyous smile, knowing by the slant of the sunlight that she had slept late, she rose and dressed with care, feeling glowing and brand-new and loved. She knotted her hair and buttoned her boots, and within minutes she was at Mrs. Gibson’s door with a scheme.
“Best wishes to you this day, Mrs. Rogers,” Mrs. Gibson beamed at her happy young friend.
“Good morning. If I may come in, I’ve a great favor to ask you.”
The two women settled in the sitting room, and Leah had to overcome a sudden bout of shyness to speak her request.
“I—I tried to cook supper for my husband last night and I burnt it,” she confessed. “I believe you know that my own good mother passed away before I mastered any home cooking. Would you teach me, please? I would be happy to embroider some household items for you—”
“Leah, you need not barter with me. It would give me as much happiness to teach you to cook as when I taught my own daughters. Come with me now into the kitchen,” she said warmly.
Together they spent the day practicing basic cooking methods, and Leah felt much more able to produce a serviceable meal for that evening. While Mrs. Gibson had visitors to attend to, Leah hastily prepared the shortbread crust her mother had taught her and made a pair of apple pies complete with delicate leaf designs carved from the top crust. When the pies were done, Leah left one for the Gibsons’ supper and took the other home with her proudly. She set it on the windowsill and rushed to the mercantile to buy a few things, glad of her embroidery money for household sundries.
By the time Henry got home, a hearty stew was at a low simmer and cornbread, only slightly burnt, was being cut for his supper. He chuckled, impressed at her swift progress, and sat down to eat dinner. When she brought out the pie, golden and pretty, he exclaimed over her artistry, her care for presentation, and her heart swelled with happiness.
That night she sat down and wrote to Jane, telling her dear sister-in-law that she was now a happy wife, settling in Montana Territory with every hope for a prosperous future.
Chapter 7
BILLINGS, MONTANA, 1885
It was a week after the first snow of a hard winter to come when the mayor’s daughter, newly widowed, returned to Billings. Seven years ago, Melody Baker had left town to marry a rich old man back in Kansas, leaving a heartbroken shop assistant called Henry Rogers behind. Stepping onto the train platform with yards of European lace dyed black adorning her dress (which showed a bit too much décolleté for an evening at the opera, much less an afternoon at a Western train station), Melody was as beautiful as ever.
News of her return had stirred the gossip in the boom town for the last fortnight. Leah, in the full bloom of expecting their first child, had listened with interest but no notion of the connection between the prodigal widow and her own taciturn husband.
In the intervening months, Henry had been an attentive but sometimes withdrawn companion. She had struggled to make him as comfortable, as happy as she was before deciding that he simply cared for her and was kind, but did not love her with the force that she loved him. She could hardly blame him, with his angelic handsomeness and impressive achievements, married to a quiet
* * *
Henry woke at dawn as usual to see to his horses. He lingered in bed, looking at his new bride, fast asleep on her pillow beside him. He brushed her hair back from her face tenderly and kissed her forehead, careful not to disturb her sleep.
When Leah woke in the morning with a joyous smile, knowing by the slant of the sunlight that she had slept late, she rose and dressed with care, feeling glowing and brand-new and loved. She knotted her hair and buttoned her boots, and within minutes she was at Mrs. Gibson’s door with a scheme.
“Best wishes to you this day, Mrs. Rogers,” Mrs. Gibson beamed at her happy young friend.
“Good morning. If I may come in, I’ve a great favor to ask you.”
The two women settled in the sitting room, and Leah had to overcome a sudden bout of shyness to speak her request.
“I—I tried to cook supper for my husband last night and I burnt it,” she confessed. “I believe you know that my own good mother passed away before I mastered any home cooking. Would you teach me, please? I would be happy to embroider some household items for you—”
“Leah, you need not barter with me. It would give me as much happiness to teach you to cook as when I taught my own daughters. Come with me now into the kitchen,” she said warmly.
Together they spent the day practicing basic cooking methods, and Leah felt much more able to produce a serviceable meal for that evening. While Mrs. Gibson had visitors to attend to, Leah hastily prepared the shortbread crust her mother had taught her and made a pair of apple pies complete with delicate leaf designs carved from the top crust. When the pies were done, Leah left one for the Gibsons’ supper and took the other home with her proudly. She set it on the windowsill and rushed to the mercantile to buy a few things, glad of her embroidery money for household sundries.
By the time Henry got home, a hearty stew was at a low simmer and cornbread, only slightly burnt, was being cut for his supper. He chuckled, impressed at her swift progress, and sat down to eat dinner. When she brought out the pie, golden and pretty, he exclaimed over her artistry, her care for presentation, and her heart swelled with happiness.
That night she sat down and wrote to Jane, telling her dear sister-in-law that she was now a happy wife, settling in Montana Territory with every hope for a prosperous future.
Chapter 7
BILLINGS, MONTANA, 1885
It was a week after the first snow of a hard winter to come when the mayor’s daughter, newly widowed, returned to Billings. Seven years ago, Melody Baker had left town to marry a rich old man back in Kansas, leaving a heartbroken shop assistant called Henry Rogers behind. Stepping onto the train platform with yards of European lace dyed black adorning her dress (which showed a bit too much décolleté for an evening at the opera, much less an afternoon at a Western train station), Melody was as beautiful as ever.
News of her return had stirred the gossip in the boom town for the last fortnight. Leah, in the full bloom of expecting their first child, had listened with interest but no notion of the connection between the prodigal widow and her own taciturn husband.
In the intervening months, Henry had been an attentive but sometimes withdrawn companion. She had struggled to make him as comfortable, as happy as she was before deciding that he simply cared for her and was kind, but did not love her with the force that she loved him. She could hardly blame him, with his angelic handsomeness and impressive achievements, married to a quiet
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