RNWMP: Bride for Nolan (Mail Order Mounties Book 3) Read online

  RNWMP: Bride for Nolan

  Mail Order Mounties

  Cassie Hayes

  Contents

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek of Bride for Joel

  About the Author

  About This Book

  The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…

  At least that’s what Miss Hazel Hughes thinks. As a self-appointed Mountie matchmaker, she knows she’s found the right woman for one very hungry man when she meets professional chef Tilly Conway. Suffering from the fallout of a scandal that wasn’t her fault, Tilly finds herself jobless, homeless and…hopeless. When Miss Hazel offers her a chance to start a new life in British Columbia as a mail-order bride, Tilly lets fate decide her future.

  Nolan Wheeler has never met a meal he didn’t like. Well, didn’t eat anyway. Naturally, he hopes his bride can do more than boil water, but he wants so much more in a wife than the ability to cook. He wants a partner to join him on adventures, laugh at his dumb jokes and, most importantly, want lots and lots of babies.

  As Nolan and Tilly grow closer, she can’t help thinking her noble Mountie deserves so much better than a wife with a scandalous past. When she finally musters the courage to share her painful story, his reaction leaves her more uncertain than ever. Will Nolan be able to see beyond her history or is Tilly doomed to start her life over…again?

  Mail Order Mounties is a multi-author series set in Canada during the early 1900s. Join authors Kirsten Osbourne, Kay P. Dawson, Cassie Hayes and Amelia Adams as they bring you stories of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police and the mail-order brides who love them.

  Chapter 1

  Mrs. Hazel Hughes wasn’t normally the nervous type. But sitting in the front row of her beloved church, half-listening to Reverend James wax rhapsodic about the eternal love of the Lord, she simply couldn’t stop fidgeting. For the third time that morning, she caught herself chewing on her thumbnail. Terrible habit…especially in church!

  “I only need one more,” she muttered under her breath, wondering how she was going to find another young lady willing to leave her life in Ottawa behind to start a new one in British Columbia.

  “What was that, Miss Hazel?” JoAnn Becker whispered, a worried look in her pretty blue eyes.

  “Nothing, dear,” Miss Hazel replied, patting her hand.

  The darling young woman was one of four she wanted to escort out west as brides for the four handsome Mounties stationed with her son in Squirrel Ridge Junction. The problem was she’d only managed to recruit three willing victims…er, brides to sign on to her crazy plan. She still needed one more.

  But time was running short. She’d been so confident of finding the perfect matches for her son’s friends, she’d already bought five non-refundable tickets for the train leaving September first. Unfortunately, no one she’d spoken to so far had seemed right for Nolan Wheeler, and she refused to send a woman she didn’t consider perfect for him. He was serving God and his country, after all. He deserved nothing but the best!

  Socializing after church was always Hazel’s favorite part of the week, but it would have to wait until she found her fourth bride. The moment Reverend James dismissed them, she leapt to her feet and scanned the crowd, looking for any young woman she hadn’t already spoken to. Alas, only the same faces she’d seen for years.

  Darn, she thought, then immediately felt ashamed. Sorry, God!

  Hazel had yet to ask for help from the other women in church, mainly because they all thought she had a screw loose — but desperate times called for desperate measures. Esther Duesenberry, a prim and proper old biddy who never could keep her nose out of other people’s business, was holding court with three of her busybody cronies near Hazel. Maybe one of them had a granddaughter…

  As Hazel approached, she could hear them whispering in hushed tones and casting sly glances toward the back of the church. Peering over their shoulders, she spotted a lovely auburn-haired young woman trying to melt into the woodwork whenever someone approached to greet her. The poor thing looked as sad and beaten down as a caged animal.

  Only when Hazel was steps away could she finally make out Esther’s words.

  “…told me she was the personal chef for a very high-ranking member of Parliament. Apparently, his wife dismissed her out of the blue about a month ago with no notice, no reason…and, most tellingly, no letter of reference. I think we all know what that means.”

  The other ladies gasped at the implication. Hazel’s blood boiled, not only that they would be so cruel as to gossip about someone — especially someone they didn’t know — but that they’d do it in church! And she’d thought biting her nails during the sermon was crude.

  Clearing her throat, Hazel interrupted. “’Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.’”

  Esther blinked at her, then a mask of condescension dropped across her features. “Excuse me?”

  “Did you not understand?” Hazel asked with a sweet, innocent smile. “Here, let me try another. ‘If any man among you seems to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.’ I’m pretty sure that goes for women too.”

  Without another glance their way, Hazel swept past the red-faced women and made a beeline for the shy young lady at the back. Shoving out her hand at the woman, she said, “Dear, my name is Mrs. Hazel Hughes and I would like to invite you to my house for lunch.”

  Hazel didn’t give the girl a chance to respond, just hooked their arms together and stormed out of the church, head held high.

  “I’m sorry, dear, what did you say your name was? In all the fuss, it plumb slipped my mind.”

  Hazel handed the young woman a plate of finger sandwiches. They sat in the drawing room, surrounded by gifts and trinkets given to Hazel by her late husband. She knew they were unfashionable, but she couldn’t bear to part with them.

  “Tilly, ma’am. Tilly Conway.”

  “Well, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Tilly.”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, chewing silently and casting sidelong glances at each other. Tilly looked to be in her early 20s, with a trim figure and the loveliest auburn hair. Bright green eyes sparkled from under impossibly long eyelashes, and her fair skin was dotted with a few pale freckles.

  Hazel swallowed her last bite and jumped to the meat of the matter. “I hear you might have had some trouble recently, Tilly. I don’t put much stock in gossip, so I was hoping you’d feel comfortable telling me what happened.”

  A dark blush crept up the young woman’s cheeks, but she gamely squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and started talking. “I had rather hoped no one would know me at that church, Mrs. Hughes.”

  “Call me Miss Hazel.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure you heard I was fired as the chef to a prominent politician, whom I’d rather not name.”

  “I understand, dear.”

  Tilly smiled tentatively. “You probably heard all sorts of wild speculation regarding my dismissal, but I’m certain you haven’t heard the full story.”

  “That’s why I’m asking you. I’ve found it’s so important to hear both sides of any story before believing either.”

  Tears spra
ng to Tilly’s beautiful green eyes. “I wish more people thought like you, Miss Hazel.”

  “Me too,” Hazel sighed dramatically, drawing the first real smile from the girl. Beautiful!

  “Well, the truth of the matter is I worked for the family for three years; during all that time, I did my best to deflect the MP’s unwelcome amorous advances. It started innocently enough, with lingering looks and light touches. About a month ago he came down to the kitchens after indulging too much during a party. He snuck up behind me — I swear I didn’t even know he was there — and…”

  Tilly’s voice broke and her chest hitched in a sob, but she quickly regained her composure and continued. Hazel couldn’t help admire the girl’s bravery under such circumstances.

  “Luckily and unluckily, his wife came looking for him. I say ‘luckily’ because, if she hadn’t, I’m not sure what he would have done to me. Of course the unlucky part was that she thought I’d somehow encouraged or invited his attentions. Which I hadn’t!”

  Hazel patted Tilly’s hand and smiled. “I believe you, dear. I suppose the wife wouldn’t listen to you.”

  Tilly nodded sadly. “She fired me on the spot. I had to pack my belongings and leave in the middle of the night with nowhere to go. Then she spread the word to all her friends not to hire me. I can’t even get a job as a maid now. A friend is allowing me to stay with her, but she’s getting married next week…and I have nowhere else to go.”

  Finally, the dam burst and Tilly broke down. Hazel gathered the poor thing in her arms and rocked her until the storm passed. Handing Tilly a handkerchief, Hazel returned to her seat and watched as the girl pulled herself together.

  Tilly was strong, even in the face of such vile behavior by her employer — forget the fact he was a member of parliament, for goodness sakes. Having a career meant she was independent by nature, despite her tears, and Hazel had no doubts about the girl’s morality.

  At such an advanced age, Hazel had seen more in life than a young woman such as Tilly could dream of. She knew men could be animals, yet their victims always seemed to be blamed for their bad behavior. But Tilly boldly told a stranger the truth, despite the fact most people in polite society wouldn’t have believed her. That took bravery.

  Then there was the fact she was a chef. Yes, she was perfect!

  “Tilly, I may have a solution for you.”

  Tilly blinked in surprise. “You do?”

  “It’s a bit unorthodox, but I hope you’ll hear me out. My son is a proud member of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police out in Squirrel Ridge Junction, British Columbia.”

  Tilly’s eyes lit up. “Oh, how exciting!”

  “Yes, very. It’s beautiful country out there. So lush and green, full of wildlife. I think you’d really like it.”

  The girl’s brow crinkled in confusion. “You want me to go to British Columbia? Why? Do they need chefs out there?”

  Hazel nearly laughed. “Well, one man in particular does. You see, I’m looking for a bride for Teddy’s fellow Mountie, Nolan Wheeler, and I think you would be absolutely perfect for him.”

  Tilly blinked before understanding dawned on her. “You mean…are you saying…”

  “Yes. I would like to invite you to become the respected bride of a Mountie. It will be a fresh start in a new land, with a fine young man who will adore you.”

  All the color drained from Tilly’s face. “Oh. I don’t know…”

  “Don’t say no, dear. Think about it. I’ll begin training the other young ladies—“

  “Others?” Tilly asked, surprised.

  “Yes, there are three other women I’ll be escorting to Squirrel Ridge Junction at the beginning of next month. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be teaching them all the skills they’ll need to become proper wives to such fine young men.”

  “Oh,” Tilly said again, looking utterly flabbergasted.

  “Think about it,” Hazel said again, standing to signal the end of their meeting. She had so much to prepare for the next day, after all. “Training will begin at eight in the morning. If you decide you’d like to start a new life, please be on time. If not, I wish you nothing but the best of luck.”

  As Hazel stood on the porch watching Tilly walk down the street in a daze, she smiled.

  “See you in the morning, Tilly,” she said softly. “Or should I say, Mrs. Wheeler.”

  Tilly stood on Miss Hazel’s front porch, listening to the Victoria Tower bell ring eight times. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the handle of her well-worn carpetbag as she tried to decide if she should walk in as Miss Hazel had told her to do, or turn on her heel and run for the hills.

  The last month had been the worst she’d experienced in her twenty-three years, and that included the time she’d come down with scarlet fever. She’d been blackballed from cooking jobs all over town, even at small cafes. Once her former employer’s wife had put out the word, it had spread like wildfire. Now her career was over.

  Tilly had dreamed of becoming a chef her entire life. It was the only ‘job’ she’d ever wanted, though it never felt like a job to her. She’d spent two years training under renowned French chefs, and had worked hard to develop a reputation as the best female chef in the city. Now that she had a totally different kind of reputation, all her hard work had been for nothing and her dreams were shattered.

  With her roommate’s upcoming nuptials, Tilly had been on the verge of asking her parents if she could move back home when she’d decided to attend church, hoping prayer would give her guidance. There were already too many Conway children still left at home…plus she’d rather enjoyed her taste of independence and wasn’t ready to give it up. But what choice did she have? As she’d sat at the back, hoping no one would recognize her, she’d prayed for a miracle. Then she’d met Miss Hazel.

  She’d spent a sleepless night considering Miss Hazel’s offer, but hadn’t made a decision by the time the sun had peeked through the curtains. She’d packed her meager belongings in a stupor, still unsure if she would accept. Even as she’d walked up the steps to the front door, she’d had no idea what to do.

  As she stared at the doorknob, she had to wonder if this was God’s answer to her prayers. It certainly didn’t feel like a miracle to her. On one hand, her life in Ottawa was all but over. What more could she ask for than a fresh start someplace as far from Ottawa as possible, while still remaining in Canada? She’d be married to a Mountie, who were widely known to be respectable and noble young men. Best of all, no one there would know of the scandal she’d left behind — Miss Hazel had assured her of that.

  On the other hand, she’d be marrying a total stranger who could turn out to be a lout. She’d also miss her large family terribly. And what if all the lies racing through town died down and she could eventually go back to working as a well-respected chef?

  Tilly set her bag down and wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her favorite blue dress. She’d been standing there for several minutes and was no closer to making a decision. There was only one way to break the impasse.

  Digging in her beaded reticule, she pulled out a coin and brought it to her lips for a lucky kiss. Growing up, her father had settled disputes between his children with that very coin. Any time one child had wanted to do one thing while another had wanted to do something entirely different, he’d flipped a coin. “Let fate decide,” he’d always said.

  When Tilly had left for culinary school, he had pressed the coin into the palm of her hand and kissed her cheek. “Just in case you ever need to make a tough decision,” he’d said. Somehow she doubted this was the kind of decision he’d had in mind.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “Heads, I go; tails, I stay.” Then she flipped the coin high in the air, caught it deftly, and slapped it onto the back of her left hand. Both hands trembled as she mustered the courage to peek at which side landed up. She really wasn’t sure which she hoped it would be. Peeling her right hand back slowly, sunlight sparkled on Queen Victoria’s profile.

>   Heads!

  That being settled, Tilly felt a smidge better. Not excited, exactly, but at least she wouldn’t have to fight an unfairly tarnished reputation any longer. Her fate was to marry a Mountie and start her life anew. Rolling back her shoulders with fresh resolve, she picked up her bag and opened the door.

  Voices from the kitchen drew her. She paused just outside the door and steeled herself. Had any of the other brides heard about her scandal? She hadn’t given that a second thought before this moment. If she had, she probably wouldn’t have come. The whole point of going west was to leave her past behind. If they brought the gossip with them…

  Only one way to find out, she thought.

  Every head in the kitchen swiveled when she entered, their eyes boring into her. Their scrutiny made her skin itch, just as it did when some fancy lady stopped in the street and glared as she passed. They knew. She could feel the disdain in their gazes. Then Miss Hazel broke into a sunny smile.

  “Tilly! You’re late, but I’m so glad you came!”

  The woman pulled Tilly into a big, motherly hug before handing her an apron and introducing her to the other girls. “Ladies, this is Tilly Conway. She’s a chef!”

  A dark-haired beauty scurried round the worktable and took Tilly’s hand in her floury ones. “I’m Rose Lambert, and I would love you forever if you could help me learn to cook. I really want to impress my future husband, Elijah.”

  Tilly was taken aback by the girl’s friendliness; she didn’t see an ounce of guile in the woman’s eyes, only earnestness and hope. Something else was there, too…excitement. Rose seemed genuinely excited about everything that was happening.

  “Certainly,” Tilly said, ducking into her apron as Rose led her to a spot next to hers.

  “I’m Evelyn Murray,” said a spunky redhead from a nearby counter, waving a dusty hand. “I’ll be marrying Joel.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Tilly looked at Miss Hazel. “Didn’t you say there were four of us?”