Mail Order Brides of Buffalo Hills (A Western Romance Book)

By Faye Sonja

Three inspirational stories of women who risked everything for love and traveled thousands of miles to the western frontier.

Part 1: The Desperate Bride for Her Two Suitors

After their parents died, Sara soon finds out just how much in debt the family was and after exhausting all other means of financial gain, she finds herself in the unexpected position of becoming a mail-order-bride.

For the handsome sheriff to meet her at the train depot and inform her that her fiancé was an outlaw! Or for her fiancé to suddenly disappear, just as a rash of cattle thefts began to happen.

Neither was she prepared to find herself having feelings for the sheriff, and he for her.

Part 2: The Curious Bride for Her Innocent Outlaw

It was only the sisters left, and by chance, Clara had discovered that the finances of the family were in dire straits. . . . Clara figured she could solve two problems at once by becoming the mail order bride, promising herself to the sheriff in town.

But when her stagecoach was robbed just outside of Buffalo Hills, Clara suddenly finds herself falling for Kyle Jones, the outlaw who, save her from the bandits.

Who knew a robbery attempt would lead Clara to the love of her life?

Part 3: The Shunned Bride For Her Privileged Pastor

Dara Wynters follows her two sisters from New York City, all the way out to the small town of Buffalo Hills, Texas... Only her sisters have no idea that she is hot on their trail.

Nor did they know that she had also agreed to become a mail order bride.

Now she has to juggle her new life as the pastor's wife and at same time hide her presence in the town from her sisters. Hiding from her sisters, however, becomes the least of her worries after the townsfolk realize that she was a mail order bride, and therefore not a worthy choice for their pastor…

3 parts of heartwarming mail order brides tales of love, romance, and triumph over adversity in one book.

Love on the western frontier was a rare treasure. Follow these inspirational women who risked everything to travel to the untamed West in the hopes of finding love and starting a new family.

If you're a fan of clean western romance, you will love this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Faye Sonja
• Release date: Feb 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393926917

Faye Sonja

Faye Sonja is a multi-voiced writer who aspires to use different voices in telling her stories, seeing characters coming alive through the multi-faceted writing styles give her great satisfaction. As a young girl, Faye Sonja has been fascinated with stories of the Old West, especially the theme of Mail Order Bride where a woman will find the courage to leave her homeland, take the plunge to seek out the love of her life out there in the unknown land. Such an act requires bravery, such an act requires faith. It takes a woman with strong Christian faith to step out on such a pursuit for her love. It is Faye's desire that readers will once again have the courage to believe in love again from reading her books, to be inspired through the characters in her story who through perseverance, in the face of obstacles, overcame the hurdles using that simple faith and belief of theirs. 

Book preview

PART 1

The Desperate Bride for Her Two Suitors

1

*   *   *

Spring 1875

Near Buffalo Hills,

Texas

Sara Wynters had never been more uncomfortable or dusty in her life. Wincing as her side once again came into contact with the side of the coach as it bounced along a rutted road, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had known going out west wouldn’t be a pleasant stroll in a park, but she hadn’t known just how unpleasant it would be.

A knot of fear gripped her belly and Sara closed her eyes briefly, taking deep, slow breaths to try and calm her racing heart. Remember why you’re doing this, Sara, she thought to herself. Clara and Dara need you. What would her two younger sisters think if they knew the real reason she had left their home in New York? Sara winced again. She could feel her palms perspiring through her once white gloves, now a dull grey from the trail dust she had collected over the past few days of traveling.

But, how was she to tell her sisters? If they knew of her plan, Sara was sure they would do everything in their power to talk her out of it. It was difficult lying to them, and she was pretty sure they didn’t fully believe her falsehood of taking a temporary job as a housekeeper anyway. Their expressions, when she’d told them last week that she would be gone for a few months had said it all.

But are you sure you can handle such a long trip, Clara asked of her sister, her blue eyes wide with disbelief.

This is not like you, Sara, Dara had joined in, equally confused. You would never be so reckless as to travel to stay with a family you have never met!

Nevertheless, the arrangements have been made, Sara replied firmly.

But leave New York? Clara insisted. "Have you ever even been out of the city before? What on Earth could make you do something so rash?"

They were right of course, and if they knew she was actually traveling out west to marry a man she had never met before, they might just tie her to a chair until she came to her senses.

Sara glanced down at her hand and the wrinkled message she gripped tightly. A mail order bride? Her? Sara Wynters had agreed to become a mail order bride! In her hand, she held the engagement letter from her betrothed, Kyle Jones, which had come with a ticket to Buffalo Hills, Texas, instructing her he would meet her at the stage when she arrived. Which should have been two hours ago, but because of one delay after another, would have her arriving a full day late.

The stage coach hit a particularly deep rut, yanking Sara and the other two passengers violently to the side before bouncing them back into position again. Muffled groans sounded briefly, but the passengers, who were obviously more used to such rugged conveyance, went back to napping as if they hadn’t just had their brains rattled by the road.

Sara folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. No matter how terrified she was, this was the right thing to do. Her sisters needed her. Things had become desperate and if something wasn’t done soon, not only would she and her sisters lose the family home; they would likely find themselves tossed out onto the streets when the creditors came calling.

At least let one of us come with you, Dara, always the practical one, had insisted.

I’ll go! Clara said, excitement obvious in her voice and her blue, sparkling eyes. Dara’s right. You shouldn’t be going on your own.

Sara had shook her head. Passage is for only one person, and it wouldn’t be right to bring someone to my... new employer’s home without gaining their permission first.

If only mother had warned her, Sara thought, drawn back to the present from another uncomfortable jolt in the coach. If only she had known just how desperate their finances truly were, maybe she could have done something before it had gotten to this point.

Sara, being the eldest of the sisters, had always taken her responsibilities seriously. Even before the tragic loss of both parents within a year of each other. Their mother had always been a bit sickly and Sara had taken on many of the daily chores and responsibilities, including caring for her younger siblings. Some thought her life was boring and sad, but Sara disagreed. She felt fulfilled and useful. Besides, she wasn’t interested in boys or courting, didn’t wish to attend boring dances, and had no interest in activities most ladies of her age did, unlike her sisters and other young women.

Not wanting to worry the younger girls, Sara sought work as a governess, but no one would hire her because she didn’t have formal training. She sold off much of their jewelry and pretty much anything else of value, but that barely made a dent in their debt.

And then she came across the ad: men looking for mail order brides to move out west. At first she laughed, thinking she would have to indeed be very desperate to even consider something so outrageous. But, as the creditors kept knocking and demanding payment and she had no other goods to sell, she finally took notice of the advertisements.

Kyle Jones wasn’t the first man with whom she corresponded, but he was one of the very few that agreed to a payment upon marriage. They corresponded for two months, just eight weeks, before he offered her marriage and the funds to get them out of debt. Sara had reluctantly agreed.

Sara scowled, gripping her hands together as she felt the stage coach slowing down. She opened her eyes and pulled back the window covering. The land slowly rolling past was dry and barren, with sparse weeds and brush dotting the landscape. She could see buildings off in the distance, wooden structures that didn’t look like they would hold up against a breeze, much less a violent summer storm.

She caught a glimpse of a sign reading Welcome to Buffalo Hills as the stage coach meandered down the dirt road. Her heart fluttered and felt like it dropped to the depths of her belly. Who was Kyle Jones, and what would he think of her? The money he promised was contingent upon them actually getting married. But what if he was cruel, or filthy, or any number of other less than desirable things? God help her, she was about to find out.

*   *   *

2

*   *   *

Buffalo Hills,

Spring 1875

Newly appointed Sheriff of Buffalo Hills, Trevor Taylor, was hot and disgruntled. He stared at the offering held before him and just managed to stifle a groan. Another pie! This made the fifth one in two days. Cynthia Echels stood before him, holding out what looked to be a home baked apple pie. She smiled and even managed a slight blush.

I made this for you, she said shyly, to thank you for takin’ on the responsibility of our town sheriff.

Trevor reluctantly took the pie from her hands and offered a weak smile. Thank you, Miss Echels. It’s smells delicious.

She blushed again and her smile grew wider. It was so brave of you to take down that outlaw gang. Why, they’d been terrorizing the folks here for months!

Just doing what anyone else would have done under the circumstances, he said, uncomfortable with the praise.

He really hadn’t done anything special. The previous sheriff, Elmer Tentez, had decided to give up being a lawman and had skipped town before the folks had found a replacement. Trevor had only been in town for a couple of weeks by that time, but had seen how much control the Wimberly Gang had had on the town – the good people were terrified of them.

To Trevor’s way of thinking, they were just a bunch of almost-men that wanted to make a name for themselves. When they came into town and started busting up the Mercantile, Trevor knew he had to take a stand. A few bruises later, he’d had the three boys locked up in the town jail, and a couple of weeks after that, the circuit judge had come to town and found them all guilty. They were hauled out of Buffalo Hills and taken to a jail that could better hold them.

Oh no, Sheriff! You did what none of the menfolk here would have been able to do, Cynthia exclaimed with wide eyes.

Trevor thanked her again and managed to get her to leave without heaping anymore praise on him. He’d only taken the sheriff’s position because he had been looking for work. Two years ago, he’d lost his small farm in northern Texas after a fire destroyed his crops and barn. His house had only been a one-room wood cabin and it hadn’t been worth staying and rebuilding.

With no family left, he’d decided to travel a little, but soon realized what little savings he had wouldn’t last long without some way to earn a living. Along the way to Buffalo Hills, Trevor had taken the odd job in cattle herding, repairing fences and whatever else he could get his hands on. He hadn’t planned to come to Buffalo Hills, had never even heard of it before, but somehow his boots had led him here.

And here he was, for better or for worse. Now, somehow he had been appointed sheriff. He didn’t have any kind of law background, but that didn’t seem to matter to the folks around here. He’d only been sheriff for about a month, but the ladies still kept bringing him food. And the men would stop him on the sidewalk to ask for help with one thing or another.

Buffalo Hills was a small town and the people were very close-knit. For the most part it was a peaceful town. A town where a man could lay down roots and build a family. He didn’t regret agreeing to become sheriff, not for the most part. But there were some parts of his job he just couldn’t wrap his mind around.

Like now.

The last thing he wanted to be doing on this uncharacteristically hot spring day was to ride about the town, babysitting supposed reformed bandits. Put ‘em in jail and let ‘em cool their heels in a cell for a while; that will reform them faster than anything else, he thought.

But somehow the good town folks, even those who had been Jones’ victims on occasion, had decided the man deserved a chance at redemption. Trevor snorted, lifted his hat from his head and used the back of his hand to wipe off the sweat that was gathering on his forehead and running in rivulets into his eyes, stinging them. Kyle Jones, reformed? He snorted again, slapping the hat back onto his head. That will be the day!

Now, instead of the outlaw being safely tucked away behind bars, Trevor had to babysit him and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. The good thing was, the first time Jones slipped up, it would be straight to jail for him, and Trevor promised himself he would be there when it happened.

In an effort to appear reformed, Jones supposedly got himself a mail order bride. Trevor cringed at the thought and wondered what kind of woman would consent to wed an outlaw, reformed or not, without ever even meeting him? But, he was curious. Not only to see if the rumors were true, but also about the bride.

Trevor felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He had more than a passing curiosity about the bride-to-be because he had, in a moment of lost senses, also placed an ad seeking a mail order bride. To make matters worse, while obviously suffering from a demented mind, he had made an offer and his own bride-to-be was due to arrive in just ten days.

What had he been thinking? Well, he knew what he had been thinking – he thought he needed a wife to help secure his position as sheriff of this town. Truth be told, he was also lonely and longed for a good woman and a family to call his own. But a mail order bride? Was he truly that desperate? Apparently so, he grunted.

Trevor rode up to the hitching rail at the stage coach depot and slowly swung his leg over his horse, dismounting while he looked around. He spotted Jones quickly enough; he was the only man pacing the length of the planked walkway in front of the depot. He watched Jones as he looped the reins to his Buckskin horse to the hitching rail.

He looked nervous, Trevor thought. The man was pacing back and forth and every so often he’d take off his hat and run his fingers through shoulder-length brown hair. Jones paused when he spotted Trevor, then shook his head slightly in apparent exasperation and continued pacing.

Trevor headed towards the outlaw – okay, reformed outlaw – his spurs rattling out a song on the wooden planks with each step. From a distance, he could hear the stage approaching and figured it carried the bride-to-be. Walking up to Jones, he tilted his head in a brief nod.

Jones, he said by way of greeting.

Jones paused before returning a stiff nod. Sheriff.

Trevor could almost feel the anxiety rolling off of the man and had to wonder what Jones might be hiding. In his experience, when a man was nervous he was usually up to no good. Of course, he could just be nervous about meeting his bride-to-be, Trevor allowed.

I’m not doing anything wrong, Jones said, as if he knew what Trevor had been thinking.

Did I say you did? Trevor asked.

Jones scowled, but said nothing and turned his attention to the road, where the stage coach was just now rumbling into town. For several minutes they stood quietly watching as the coach came closer. In five days, he would be doing the exact same thing, waiting for his new bride, Trevor thought with a scowl.

The coach rolled up and slowed to a stop. The driver dismounted and quickly made work of tossing the luggage off of the rack on top of the coach while passengers started disembarking. Trevor watched, feeling somehow just as nervous as Jones looked.

The first passenger was a man in his mid-fifties, obviously not the bride. A bit portly, but well-dressed in a suit, the man ambled over to the side of the coach to collect his luggage while the second passenger, also a male, exited. The younger man was tall and round, and he paused a moment when he saw Trevor standing there, as if he was surprised to see a sheriff at the depot. The man needed watching, Trevor thought.

Finally a slippered foot peeked out from the coach, followed by yards of pale blue material that emerged into a tall, young woman. She wasn’t a beauty by most standards, but for some reason Trevor found himself holding his breath as he looked at her. Was this Jones’ bride? For some reason, Trevor was overtaken by a slight bout of jealousy. Over a woman he’d never met, even!

The woman stepped carefully off of the coach step, holding her blue gown up and away from the dusty road with a gloved hand. Her brown eyes were wide as she took in her surroundings. They spotted Jones and Trevor and flitted back and forth, probably trying to determine which man was her intended groom.

Jones started towards her, then paused long enough to yank his hat off of his head. Trevor watched in fascination as the woman practically shrank away from Jones, then somehow garnered her courage and stiffened her spine.

She put a dainty hand on Jones’ arm and allowed him to escort her onto the planked walkway. Jones scowled at Trevor, who was still standing in the same spot.

Ma’am, Trevor said, tipping his hat in greeting to the woman when she and Jones stopped before him.

Sir, she greeted back with a hesitant smile that, for some reason, tugged at his heart strings.

Excuse us, Sheriff, but we must be on our way, Jones said, sending Trevor a look that clearly said don’t cause any trouble.

Just then a little devil plopped down on Trevor’s shoulder and he found himself doing just that, causing trouble.

I hear that congratulations are in order, he began innocently enough. She blushed, shooting Jones a nervous look. Jones scowled in warning. I have to wonder though, ma’am, why a lady such as yourself would agree to get hitched to an outlaw?

*   *   *

3

*   *   *

P-pardon me? Sara gasped, glancing between her husband-to-be and the handsome sheriff. An outlaw? Surely the sheriff was just trying to pull the wool over her eyes. A brief glance at her betrothed had her stomach plummeting to her belly.

A blush heated Mr. Jones’s cheeks and he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. Reformed, Ma’am, he said, shooting a glare at the sheriff. That part of my life is in the past. I raise cattle now. I do it honestly. When Sara didn’t respond, he swallowed, shot another glare at the sheriff, and held out his arm for her to take – since she had dropped her hand out of reflex upon hearing he was a an outlaw.

We should get you settled in, he told her. It’s a decent little ride to the ranch.

Sara had been lifting her hand to grasp his arm, but stopped with his words, her arm held paused in mid-movement. "Do you mean your ranch? she asked with raised eyebrows. Does your mother live with you, Mister Jones?"

The sheriff snorted and Sara’s betrothed took her hand, looping it around his arm as he tried to lead her away from the sheriff and the depot.

No, ma’am, it is just me and the hands.

Sara dug her heels in, refusing to take another step. Certainly, you do not expect me, a single woman, to stay at a ranch with a bunch of men? she asked primly.

"I thought ... well, we are