Mail Order Misfit

  Mail Order Misfit

  Jenna Brandt

  Praise for Jenna Brandt

  I am always excited when I see a new book by Jenna Brandt.

  Lori Dykes, Amazon Customer

  Jenna Brandt is, in my estimation, the most gifted author of Christian fiction in this generation!

  Paula Rose Michelson, Fellow Author

  Ms. Brandt writes from the heart and you can feel it in every page turned.

  Sandra Sewell White, Longtime Reader

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Also by Jenna Brandt

  Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Group

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To all those who love to read.

  Let’s enjoy a story together.

  Chapter One

  Dakota Territory, 1885

  The sprawling Great Plains of North America continued to pass by through the window of the train. The steep, flat-topped hills, better known as buttes, dominated the landscape of the James River Valley. Soon Cara McGregor would be arriving in the town of Mitchell, where her whole life would change forever.

  She read the letter from her future husband another time, still trying to accept that she was traveling out West to meet the man willing to marry her. James Cassidy sounded like a good man, a man she could find contentment with, since love wasn’t in the cards for her.

  Considering her reputation back in her hometown of Hull, Massachusetts, she was glad the man hadn’t requested to know more about her family situation. It wasn’t good. She left behind a place filled with Irish folk from the Old Country, whom by the end of her time in Hull, treated her like a leper because of what happened with her parents.

  She wished she could have gone back to that day and been at the house when her mother was killed. If she had seen what happened instead of being off with her beau, the townspeople wouldn’t have blamed her father and hung him two months later for the crime.

  She not only lost her parents that day, but her beau along with any future prospects of marriage, since everyone in town viewed her as the spawn of the devil himself. It was as if everyone forgot what a good man her father had been; looking out for his neighbors, helping at the church, and taking care of his family.

  The little money her parents had saved ran out by the end of the second month. She couldn’t get a job for the same reasons as she couldn’t land a husband. All that was left was to start over somewhere else, and she remembered that Josephine Little had found a groom out West through a mail-order advertisement. With nothing left to lose, Cara found herself scouring The Matrimonial Times.

  She could still remember the words of Mr. Cassidy’s advert in the newspaper. Needed, Wife. South Dakota widower seeks a kind, faithful woman to run his household on his farm, to support his work, and rear his three children. Due to conditions in the rural area, only a strong, diligent woman of fortitude and grit need reply.

  Cara should have dismissed it out of hand, considering she had no business doing any of the work he required, but something about the unspoken plea in the request pulled at Cara’s heart. She needed a new life, and she could help this man while gaining one. What could it hurt to answer?

  Two letters and a month later, she was headed out West with only two bags, and her gumption to make the marriage work. She hoped she was able to live up to her new family’s expectations, though she had little experience in running a household or mothering children. Her best example was her own mother, who had been loving, helpful, and always there for her. She hoped to provide the same care for her new wards. She was resolved to be the best match for Mr. Cassidy, rather than just a misfit for his family.

  Deciding she could use some air, Cara stood from her seat in the car she shared with a family and a widow traveling to Oregon. She slipped the letter into her pocket, and made her way towards the back of the train. She was about to exit through the back door, when a man came up and blocked her path.

  “Why aren’t you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” the man said with a wag of his eyebrows. He reached out and grabbed a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. “I’ve always had an inkling for redheads.”

  She shrank back, not liking how close the man was, or the fact he felt justified enough to touch her. “I’ll just be going now,” she said, trying to push past him to return from the way she came.

  Putting out his arm to block her path, he observed, “I thought you were headed to the back of the train? No one’s around by the way, so we have the whole section to ourselves.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Cara declared, raising her chin in defiance, while trying to muster her bravest face.

  “You needn’t hurry off on my account,” the man said, leaning in towards her until she could smell the repugnant odor of liquor on his breath. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Well, I don’t,” she stated tartly. “I have people waiting for me back in my car.”

  “I don’t think so, missy. I’ve been watching you for a while, and you’re traveling alone. Ain’t no one worrying about your whereabouts. I doubt anyone would care what happens to you,” he snarled, pushing his body against hers as his hand started to roam all over her body.

  “Don’t touch me,” she screamed, squirming against him in anger. “Get your hands off me.”

  “Did I tell you, that’s my favorite part about redheads? Nothin’ more appealin’ than a redhead’s temper. I love it when they get all feisty,” he said with a leering grin of pleasure.

  Cara froze, realizing that this man wanted her to fight him. It made him excited, and that was the last thing she wanted to encourage.

  As she stood perfectly still, she slowly moved her hand down her side. She finally reached the strap inside the hidden insert of her pocket where she carried a small knife. She whipped it out as fast she could, pushing it towards the man’s chest.

  “If you don’t get away from me right now, I’m going to make you a new hole.”

  The man’s eyes grew wide in shock for a few moments before he narrowed them in anger. “Are you sure you can use that knife, missy? I’m bettin’ you’ve never stabbed a man. It’s messy, with a lot of blood.” He reached out and tried to grab the knife from her, but she dodged his reach.

  “It’s better than the alternative,” she shouted. “I won’t have you ruin me.”

  “Can’t ruin something that’s already tarnished,” he barked out. “You wouldn’t be traveling all alone if you were a good woman.”

  The man lunged at her again. This time his hand made contact with hers, causing them to wrestle for control of the knife. She was about to lose her grip on the hilt when a group of miners entered the car.

  “What’s going on here?” one of the men shouted with a look of shock on his face.

  Her attacker looked fearful for the briefest of moments before he accused, “This thief tried to rob me. I was coming out back to get some air, when she tried to pickpocket me. When I confronted her, she pulled a knife on me.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Cara protested. “I was the one coming out back to get air when he accosted me. He had vile intentions, so I had to pull my knife to protect myself.”

  “What respectable woman would need to carry a knife around?” the attacker countered. “Only someone who has a devious nature.”

  “I’m traveling alone, so I brought one of my father’s knives along for protection,” Cara said, trying to explain away how bad the situation looked on her part.

  She could tell from the miners’ looks, they doubted her story, and her explanation sounded ridiculous even to her own ears.

  “Perhaps one of us should go get the conductor to sort this matter out,” a second man suggested.

  “I think that’s a good idea. I would like to tell him all about how this thief behaved,” her attacker stated with confidence. “She’ll hang for trying to kill me. I’ll make sure of it.”

  A shiver crawled up Cara’s back as she realized this man wanted to make her pay for not getting his way with her. If she didn’t escape right now, she was going to end up dangling from a hangman’s noose. Glancing out the window, she realized they were slowing down as they approached a set of curves on the rail line. If she jumped off the train now, she’d only suffer a few bumps and bruises, a much better alternative.

  Without another thought, Cara turned and rushed towards the door. She swung it open, and flung herself through it. For just a split second, she paused as she came to the edge of the iron railing. Knowing she had no choice, she climbed over and threw herself from the side.

  The left side of her body met the ground with a hard thud, right before she started rolling down the small hill. She could feel the dirt and rocks tearing at her flesh; however, she made herself ignore the pain
and focus on getting as far away from the train as possible. If she got arrested, it would end badly for her. No one at home would vouch for her, considering her family’s history, and some would even say that it made sense that she turned out just like her father. She would be assumed guilty simply because of her family’s past.

  The shouts of the men from the train echoed around Cara as she rushed along the bank of the James River. Slowly, they faded as she slipped away into her surroundings, praying she would find some way to survive out in the frontier wilderness.

  As James Cassidy got ready to head into town, he continued to remind himself he was doing the right thing, at least for his children, if not for himself. He would have been content to remain unmarried forever after the death of his first wife. His children, however, needed a mother even though Susan, his eldest child, would argue differently.

  Over the past year, he’d been doing a horrible job of balancing taking care of his farm and children, prompting him to place an advert in The Matrimonial Times.

  He had thought it a silly notion at first, but with so few women in the South Dakota frontier, he had no means of finding another wife. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and James had never been so desperate as he was right now. He just hoped that Cara McGregor would be what she advertised in her introductory letter.

  She sounded sensible and capable, though maybe a little naïve about what it was going to take to do the work he would need. Her straightforwardness in stating her limitations, rather than trying to cover them up or avoid discussing them, made him sure she would be an asset to his home and family. This prompted him to send a letter in return offering travel money and marriage once she arrived in Mitchell.

  Thomas, his youngest and only boy, came bursting into James’ bedroom, carrying a toad in his hands. “Look what I found outside in the stream, Pa. I couldn’t find Becky to scare—she must be hiding—so I scared Susan with it instead. She stormed inside the house and threw herself on the sofa.”

  James stood to his feet and crossed his arms, giving his son an irritated look. Great, all he needed was Susan to be out of sorts right before he went into town. She needed to have her wits about her while he was gone, considering she had to watch after both Thomas, and his middle child, Becky. He didn’t want any trouble while he was gone.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Thomas. You know how sensitive Susan is lately; you shouldn’t go picking on her all the time.”

  “But it’s funny to see her face turn all red like a tomato. Sometimes I think she’s going to explode, she gets so mad,” Thomas said with a lopsided grin.

  James wanted to stay angry at his son, but part of him agreed. Susan tended to get vexed over almost everything lately, but he had to remind himself a lot had been thrust on her at the tender age of twelve. She had to take on the job of mothering her siblings while still grieving the loss of her ma, not to mention the cooking and taking care of the home. It wasn’t fair to ask so much of any child, but soon he would be able to change all of that once Cara was living with them. Susan could go back to being a kid.

  James bent down to look into the blue eyes of his son, the same as his mother’s. “I understand that you think it’s funny, but you need to give an extra measure of kindness to your sisters right now. It’s been hard on all of us without your ma around.”

  The boy nodded, a sadness entering his eyes only for a moment before he quickly shook his head. “But today we get a new Ma, so that means I can go back to teasing my sisters.”

  “No, that’s not what that means,” James said, ruffling the blond hair on his son’s head. “It just means we all might find a way to get back to a routine around here.”

  James exited his bedroom with Thomas close on his heels. As they entered the living area of the small ranch home, he found Susan still sniffling on the sofa. He made his way over to his eldest daughter and sat down beside her. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back, not quite sure if he was doing it right. Laura had been the one to tend to the matters with the children.

  “Are you all right, Susan?” James inquired with concern.

  “No, I’m not all right,” Susan shrieked out as she flipped over, causing her long blonde hair to fan out across the sofa. “Thomas nearly caused my heart to stop beating. I thought I was going to die just like Ma did, I swear it.”

  “You know that wouldn’t happen, Susan. Please don’t exaggerate,” James requested.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrowed her brown eyes in anger as she spat out, “Of course you take his side, like always. I do everything around here, but since he’s the baby, he gets away with every rotten thing he does to me and Becky.”

  “That’s not true, Susan. I already talked with Thomas and told him not to tease either of you anymore.”

  “That’s it? You talked to him? What if I get a wart from that toad touching me? Then no boy will ever love me,” she shrieked out again as fresh tears fell down her cheeks. She turned her face back into the pillow, blocking out the fresh sobs that were causing her whole body to shake.

  James wasn’t equipped to deal with this sort of outburst, and it had been happening more and more all the time. Unable to console his daughter, he stood up and made his way to the front door.

  “Where’s Becky?” he asked in a general way, hoping she was hiding somewhere in the house so he didn’t have to go outside to hunt for her before he left for town.

  “I already told you, she’s hiding from me,” Thomas proclaimed.

  “You don’t have to hide anymore, Becky. Your pa is right here,” James said in a coaxing voice.

  After several seconds passed, a small brown-haired girl, the only one of his children to take after his side of the family, emerged from out of one of the kitchen cabinets.

  “Is it really safe to come out?” Becky probed, giving a skeptical look at her brother.

  “Of course, it is,” James promised. “Thomas is going to be on his best behavior while I’m in town picking up Miss Cara.”

  “You mean our new ma,” Thomas corrected.

  Hearing Thomas so quickly replace their mother made James want to scream. No one would ever be their new ma, but he knew it wasn’t the seven year old’s fault. He didn’t know any better.

  “Well, I don’t think we should rightly call her that until she’s had some time to adjust to all of us,” James stated instead. “We need to give her time to become familiar with our home.”

  “And then we can start calling her Ma,” Thomas stated firmly.

  “She’s never going to be our ma,” declared Susan, rolling her face from the pillow just long enough to shout her refusal. “Never, never!”

  Not knowing what to do, James decided to leave anyway, hoping for the best while he was gone. “I have to go children, but I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Please be good and don’t get into any trouble, or there will be severe consequences,” he warned, though he didn’t even know what their punishment would be, since again, Laura had doled them out.

  None of the children responded, not giving any measure of peace to James as he left his home.

  As he drove his wagon towards town, he wondered if Cara would be as pretty as her picture. He’d heard stories of women switching their photographs in order to have a better chance of landing a husband. He hoped that wasn’t the case. The woman in the picture was quite attractive. He wasn’t sure it was fair of him to care about her looks, considering his biggest priority was to find a helpmate, not a romantic interest. He had no delusions about finding love twice in his life. He had firmly set that notion aside; however, having an attractive woman sitting across the dinner table would be an added bonus to anything else Cara McGregor had to offer.