Free Violet: Bride of North Dakota (American Mail-Order Bride 39) by Heather Horrocks

was my pleasure,” he said, watching her disappear into his sister’s house.
    He lifted his eyes to the skies once more. They really were spectacular. And more so with Violet by his side.
    He took one last glance toward the house, and started walking toward his own.
    He was smitten by Violet. Attracted to her physically. Compelled to protect her.
    He had to get her married off—and soon—or he would go mad.

 
    Dear Violet,
    I am enclosing this letter in care of Mr. Nathaniel James Evans of Minot, North Dakota. I hope it reaches you in a timely manner. I’m assuming you are happily married by now. Please send details of your wedding, your new life, and your new situation. You’ll be surprised to learn that I myself am unwed. When I arrived here, the groom refused to marry me. Remember Mr. Buchanan’s insistence that he wanted an unattractive bride? Well, he meant it. Though honesty forces me to admit that he has now proposed in earnest. And, in fact, is making quite a nuisance of himself in recent days. As I already have a job secured now and in the future, I’ve turned him down. I do believe it’s for the best. I quite like the city of Keene. It’s beautiful here, lots of trees, and some of the architecture is amazing! Big brick buildings, stone structures, and lovely houses. The town is well cared for, and the citizens are very nice. I am staying with Reverend Gentry and his wife. More generous people you cannot imagine. And the food. To have all I want is like a miracle. I don’t doubt I’ll be plump in no time. The leaves are turning and are absolutely gorgeous in color, so many hues you can’t believe it. Even on the train ride out it was hard to take my eyes off the scenery. At the moment, I am acting as a governess to Mr. Buchanan’s daughter, Cassie. When Mr. Buchanan’s new bride arrives, I will be working at the mercantile in town. I miss you and all the girls. Even the cramped room we shared. Is it odd to be homesick for all that? Sir Lancelot has fared well here, too. He’s very spoiled. I hope all goes well with you, but will feel much better if you inform me of all that has happened.
    Your loving friend, Rachel West
    (Letter mailed October 18, 1890, and delivered—after a day of confusion over the address—October 23, 1890)
     
    THE NEXT DAY, VIOLET RECEIVED a letter from Rachel. As she read it, she wondered how she could possibly respond without revealing the embarrassing circumstances in which she found herself. Rachel seemed to have plenty of problems of her own, but she was sure they would work out. At least her groom had not run from her.
    What could she say to her friend? Certainly not the truth, for the mere thought of Rachel—or anyone—knowing she had a runaway groom was far too embarrassing. But how could she word her response so she didn’t actually lie , but perhaps just left out a few of the details?
    “My brother is a dolt.”
    Startled, Violet raised her eyes from Rachel’s letter to Amelia. “What?”
    They were alone in the house. Sven had to work late, long after dark, tonight.
    “You heard me.” Amelia, sitting across from Violet, sat back in her chair. “You like him, right?”
    “You have three brothers. Which one do you mean?” But she knew.
    “They’re all dolts.” Amelia smiled slowly. “But you know which one I am referring to.”
    Yes, she did. Not sure where Amelia was going with this, Violet said, tentatively, “Yes, I like him.”
    “I thought so. And he likes you, too. He’s just too stupid to realize it. But there are ways to get around that—and I know them all.” She stopped, her face pretty in the lamplight. “Do you like him enough that you would consider him as a potential husband?”
    Her face flashing warm, Violet paused. Could she reveal herself to Amelia? After a moment, she said, her voice quiet, “Yes.”
    “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You are now going to secretly court the stupidest man in town.”
    Violet