Bride in the Storm (Chance Creek Brides Book 3)

By Mary L. Briggs

Left destitute and alone, Adeline Fleming must say goodbye to England and the only life she's ever known. Her father–of whom she has no memory–waits for her in Chance, Texas. The only thing Adeline is sure of, is the fact that her mother took her and fled from this man and his ranch over twenty-three years ago, never to return. Why would a loving God put her at the mercy of the man her mother left? Or does God even care? Her grandfather left her penniless and the man she must call father seemingly abandoned all contact with her. Maybe she is meant to break from all tradition and make her own way in America.

Mark Murphy is a man who means to make a success of his furniture business. No time for courting giggling neighbor girls, he is dedicated to his craft. When he agrees to meet neighbor, Samson Fleming's, daughter and bring her home, his heart is not ready for the attraction he feels for the woman. Nor is he prepared for the pain of her eventual rejection. Despite her rebuff, he feels compelled to keep her safe from a rash decision, and convince her to seek the plan that God has for her life. Will she listen, or will he lose her forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary L. Briggs
• Release date: Feb 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311494597

Mary L. Briggs

Mary L. Briggs is a wife, mother, and registered nurse. She enjoys writing inspirational fiction and is also a free-lance writer. She has had two romance stories and one mini-mystery published in Woman's World Magazine. She enjoys reading, writing, studying American history, cooking, quilting, herb gardening, and crafting. Mary lives in a cordwood home in the Ouachita Mountains with her husband and two daughters. She also enjoys the company of five cats, a German Shepherd/Border Collie dog, and a flock of chickens.

Book preview

Preface

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Epilogue

Preface

But what about my mother’s things? The words forced their way past her lips. They needed to be said, but maybe in a more. . .she cringed. . .a more pleading manner. But pleading was not in her makeup. At least not today.

Mr. Goff’s steely eyes stared over the rim of his glasses. Everything belongs to the estate. You will take what you have been allowed and nothing else, Miss Fleming. He hesitated before he finished. And if you are caught taking more, you will be arrested for thievery.

Addie swallowed the hot bile that rose in her throat. Why. . .why?. . .fear and fury raged in her whole being. Her hands folded together in an effort to curb the trembling in her fingers. How dare Cousin Vance treat her in this manner, refusing her the belongings of her own mother. What a coward he was to have his solicitor stand between them.

She cleared her throat. I would like to personally speak to my cousin about this matter. Let the spineless excuse for a man speak for himself. How brave would he be looking her in the eye?"

Mr. Goff closed the folder before him and smiled. Not even a hint of cowardice showed on his face. I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Mr. Wellington, now Lord Benchley, has ordered that you be gone from the premises two days before he and Lady Pamela arrive. You will be safely on your way to America by that time.

Chapter 1

Addie opened the door to her room and took a careful look in each direction of the empty hallway. Her heart pounded in her chest, bounding twice as fast as the beat of the tall clock in the alcove by the stairs. She closed her eyes and listened for the slightest sound of a footstep, or possible chair scraping the floor in any of the bedrooms. Silence.

She took a deep breath. Really, Addie, get a hold on yourself. It’s only right. This has been your home for twenty-two years. Mother would have wanted it this way.

Quietly closing the door behind her, she softly stepped two doors down and turned the handle. Inside the lovely rose-papered room, she leaned back against the door as it closed, releasing the breath she’d been holding. The soft scent of roses lingered in the air. She swallowed the lump that threatened to rise in her throat as she spotted the vase packed with blooms. Her mother’s favorite roses. Probably the maid, Jenny, had the gardener bring them in from the greenhouse. Jenny always made sure to leave them in the room, as if Mother was still here to enjoy their beauty.

Addie blinked back the tears that stung her eyelids. Three years since Mother’s death. The staff seemed to miss her as much as Addie, herself. She should be used to the loss, but the wound in her heart refused to heal. And soon she would leave these familiar surroundings that kept her mother’s memory fresh in her mind.

Grief turned to anger as she remembered why she was having to leave. Because she was a woman. Everything in the world seemed to be for a man’s benefit. And there was nothing she could do about it but remain chained by their archaic laws.

Moving quickly to the dresser on the south wall, she caught sight of her reflection. Her olive skin appeared pale and colorless in the afternoon light, betraying the nervous storm inside of her. Against the pallid cheeks, her dark eyes were black as the coal Larson fed into the kitchen stove on cold winter mornings.

How she longed for her mother to be in this room. To have her arms around her once more, assuring her that everything was going to be fine. That they’d make a new life together, here in England. But it was not to be. Tomorrow Long Meadows would cease to be Addie’s home. And mother would remain in the cold grave in the churchyard.

On her knees, she opened the bottom drawer and pushed back the neatly folded and pressed garments stored inside. Articles that would never be worn again. She found a stack of handkerchiefs and for a moment, she fingered the items, smiling as childhood memories flooded her mind.

Mother had kept one tucked up her sleeve, ready for Addie’s tears whenever she needed comforting from a scraped knee or cross word from one of the servants. Or for dabbing the perspiration from her own brow on warm summer afternoons. Addie sighed as an image of her mother, dressed in white, her blond hair curling in the heat came to mind. She used to sit out on the back lawn and watch the growing Addie and her governess, Edna, play crochet or lawn tennis. She smiled. Mother was always fair, encouraging whichever one was winning.

The chiming of the clock down the hall sent a tremor through her and brought all thoughts back to reality. She had to hurry before someone caught her.

Her heartbeat raced as her fingers raked against leather. She’d found it. Her mother’s Bible. If all else was to go to Cousin Vance, surely this should be her own to take with her. Guilt stabbed through her. She should ask. But she had already been denied several items. Things that should be her own. Cousin Vance had no use for Mother’s Bible, or the notes she had kept tucked inside its cover. They would belong to Addie.

The words would mean nothing to Vance Wellington or his family. He was cruel and spiteful to deny her the possessions that had belonged to her own mother. What had she ever done to him?

She’d only met him once in her twenty-six years, and she had been eight at the time. Even then she had thought him pompous and silly. He had walked around the estate pointing out things that needed to be changed, as if he already resided there. Addie, not bearing to hear his criticisms, had hidden herself away for the afternoon in the throng of bushes she so often played inside. Her nursemaid, Hilda, had been very angry when she had finally emerged in her dirt streaked dress, her hair tangled across her face.

A sound in the hallway sent her nerves leaping into her throat. Clutching the book close to her heart, she stood and listened. All was quiet. Maybe she had imagined the noise. It had been only slight. Surely everyone was busy at this afternoon hour. Cook would be managing the evening meal and the maids had been finished with the bedrooms since this morning. It was still several hours before they turned the beds down.

Most of the staff should be at tea right now, including her former governess, now personal maid, Edna. Even she couldn‘t know what Addie was up to at this moment.

She stood, gripping the book in her hand. A coral shawl, casually draped across the old rocker near the windows caught her eye. Mother’s favorite. But she wouldn’t take it. Only the Bible, she told herself, quietly tip-toeing back to the window. She rarely opened the one she owned. But Mother had always seemed to rely on hers with such assurance. What could it hurt? And maybe it would be more like her mother coming with her on the ocean voyage. Covering the items the best she could, she moved softly across the room.

Her ear to the door, she could hear nothing. It would be safe to go back to her room, sight unseen.

She stepped back and put her hand on the doorknob. Before she could turn it, the door pushed open. Addie steeled herself for what was to come.

Adeline!

Addie swallowed hard and stared into Edna’s startled expression. She had been so sure the governess was downstairs with the other servants.

Sensing the warmth crawling over her neck and cheeks, she shifted the book and stuttered. I. . .I. . .you see. . .

A sweet smile crossed the woman’s face as she glanced at the items Addie was trying desperately to hide. I’m sure you were just saying one last good-bye to your mother’s room.

Addie released a breath as relief swept over her.

***

Turning the lantern low, she listened for any murmuring or footsteps in the hallway. Edna’s small room, connected to hers, was silent. The household was asleep. Quietly, she lit the lamp beside her and reached beneath her pillow. The leather was cool and smooth in her hand as she rested it against a spare pillow. Taking a deep breath, she opened the Bible and turned to the back. Her mother’s private notes, written on sheets of lined paper were folded neatly, while blank sheets still waiting to be written upon completed the small stack. Addie blinked back her tears and began to read.

August 14, 1875, Galveston, Texas

He is so handsome, such a gentleman. I’m sure Mother and Father would quite approve of my Samson Fleming. I cannot help but believe that he is truly the one I have yearned for all my life. The difference in our ages is of no consequence. Until I met Samson, I had thought to marry a young man, at home in England. But this Texas rancher has captured my heart and I will wed him tomorrow. Will Father consider my decision too hasty? I think he will. But he and Mother will both stand by me in this decision. Aunt and Uncle are as happy for me as I could hope for. And to think I did not wish this trip to America. I think God must have had a hand in my coming, as He knew that Samson was the husband I needed. Father will be impressed that his son-in-law owns many acres of land and plans to purchase more. And there is no entailment to keep him from doing with it as he pleases. If only it could be so for Father.

She closed the pages and leaned back on the soft pillow. So Mother had been happy and impressed with Papa when she first met him. What had gone wrong that sent her back to England?

Addie sighed and threw back the bed covers. Walking quietly across her room, she opened the leather satchel and stuffed the Bible and notes to the bottom. She would read more once her real journey began.

***

The lump in her throat began slowly sinking to her stomach, forming a large knot that seemed to expand with every step she took. This was her moment to say goodbye to the Long Meadows House. She would never see it again. Tomorrow it would be a mere memory. With grandfather gone, the estate now went to Vance Wellington. He had a wife and seven children. There would be no place on the estate for Adeline.

She stopped at the top of the staircase and rested her eyes on the scene below. If she went down the stairs and took a right, she would be in the library, where the vast west-facing windows offered sunlight for afternoon reading. She had spent many hours there, curled in her favorite reading spot. But the books were no longer hers, except for the few novels and her Bible that had been gifts from mother and grandfather. The rest now belonged to Cousin Vance.

Are you ready, Miss?

She turned and found the smiling face of Edna, ten years her senior. The woman had been a part of her life for so many years. First as her young governess, then as her companion. Separation from her would leave another hole in Addie’s shrinking life.

Addie forced a smile in return and swallowed hard. For the moment, she must put on a brave front for the servants. They had all expressed their sadness at her leaving. But they had a job to do for the new family. She was no longer their ‘little Miss Adeline’. Yes. I guess it’s time I leave.

Edna nodded and returned the smile. Herman has already taken our bags down to the carriage. So everything is ready.

She had heard wrong. It would be nice, but Edna would be taking no more trips with her. "You mean my bags."

Edna shook her blond head. Her answer was slow and clear. No, Addie. I’ll be coming with you to Liverpool. I’ll stay with you until you sail. Then, I’m off to a new position in Yorkshire. Governess to five children!

Addie stared. I. . .I don’t understand. You’re job is. . . what exactly was Edna’s job? At once it occurred to her that a lady’s maid of a former resident was not household staff. Was Edna being turned away as well?

I. . .I’m sorry, Edna. I am going to miss you.

Edna smiled and patted her arm. And I, you. Possibly we can write to each other?

Oh, yes, Addie nodded. She took a deep breath. I guess we should go downstairs.

She vowed not to cry, but it was impossible. The tears started the moment she hugged Cook. I’m going to miss you, she managed.

Now don’t be crying, Miss Addie. The Good Lord’s watching out for you, she assured her in a thick Irish brogue. And here, she shoved a small package, wrapped in brown paper into her hands. Just a little something from all of us. We was all in agreement on it, if you get to wondering.

Why. . .why thank you. She looked down the row of servants. All of you. She reached for the red string tied around the shape and Cook’s fingers covered hers at once. Not here, Miss Addie. Promise you’ll wait until you’re on the boat that’s taking you to America.

Addie swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. I promise.

Chapter 2

Third class! I’m sorry, sir, but you must be mistaken! The outrage in her voice echoed against the solid brick wall beside her.

The man behind the counter raised his eyebrows and shook his head. I have the reservations right here, Miss. Made by a solicitor, Geoffrey Goff.

Goff! Rage boiled in her throat. Cousin Vance’s solicitor. He had done this on purpose to deepen her shame. Tears welled in her eyes and her voice stuck in her throat. She willed back the anger. She would get through this with dignity. Somehow.

The clerk‘s voice was kind. You won’t be disappointed, Miss Fleming. The West Line is very nice, even in steerage. It will be very clean, comfortable, and the food is enjoyable.

She glanced around the sparse office. He worked for the shipping line. Of course he would be assuring her that her passage would be comfortable. She sighed and took a deep breath. Thank you. I’m sure it will be fine.

He nodded. You must be here at six-thirty tomorrow morning, Miss Fleming. Third-class patrons will be inspected by the doctor and given a health card before being allowed to their compartments.

***

The early morning fog hung heavy and thick in the air, softening the sounds of the lorry wheels as they clacked on the brick lined street. She watched as they passed, loaded with goods from the docks. Addie stood among a throng of men, women, and children, all waiting for the horse-drawn bus to take them to the ship where they would be examined by the physician. The children seemed subdued in the dim light of morning. No doubt they would liven up once they were all boarded and headed out to sea.

Addie stared at a woman setting up a table of baked goods along the side of the street. Just down from her was a man selling the early edition of today’s