Anna (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 5) Read online

  Anna

  The Angel Creek Christmas Brides

  Everly West

  Can the Rancher Convince the Southern Belle to be his Montana Wife?

  With no family in Charleston, Anna Tuttle decides to join her friends and become a mail-order bride. But she wasn’t prepared for the way her indulged life would change. And yet her rugged husband is doing his best to help her adjust to her new life as a ranchers wife. But she wants more.

  Lonely, Levi Jackson orders a mail order bride, but instead of a strong vibrant ranching woman, he receives a pampered southern belle. Will she back out of the marriage before they’ve even had a chance to begin or can Levi help her learn how to love.

  Will the Southern Bell let Levi show her the true meaning of family and Christmas?

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  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 Everly West

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design: Dar Albert

  Edited by Tina Winograd

  Release date: November 2018

  ebook ISBN

  Paperback ISBN

  This book and parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author and publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

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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

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  The Angel Creek Brides

  Also By

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Christmas Eve 1914

  Anna stared at her aging girlfriends from Charleston, their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and all the beautifully wrapped packages beneath the tree in the parlor of the Victorian house. So many fabulous years had passed since they left Charleston and moved to Montana as mail-order brides.

  Glass ornaments decorated the Douglas fir freshly cut from their ranch and she smiled at the beautiful sparkly orbs. Her daughter-in-law purchased them at the local Woolworth's, the new five and dime store in Angel Creek, Montana. As they gathered for festivities, a fire blazed in the hearth while the ground outside was covered in snow.

  She felt certain this year would be her last birthday and Christmas celebration. Her friends and family didn't know yet, but her body was giving out, and she would probably be the first of the five girls to pass along.

  The doctor told her she had maybe six months, and she planned on soaking up all the time she could with her loved ones.

  Looking around the parlor, she didn't feel sad. At nearly seventy, she had lived an extraordinary life. After the Civil War, she experienced a life full of laughter and love, and children surrounded her in Angel Creek. All due to the chance she took escaping the war-riddled South. All because of one sweet, amazing man who taught her about the love of family and holidays.

  She didn't regret a single moment of her journey and would do it all again in a heartbeat.

  Yes, she would miss everyone and knew they would miss her, but her time was at an end.

  "Anna," Sarah—one of the friends who made the long trip with her—said, "The children want to hear your story."

  Knowing this would be the last opportunity to tell of her adventure, she sank down in the rocker and gazed at all the eager young faces. Her life had been incredibly blessed.

  "The day the Union soldiers rolled into Charleston, they took control of our family business and killed my papa, leaving me penniless. You see, my mother died in childbirth, so my father raised me. And after he was killed, there was no one to protect me. No family newspaper to run. Only a big, old empty house filled with memories of happier times until Charity told me about an opportunity..."

  Anna Tuttle marched up to the newspaper office her family owned until six months ago when the Union army marched in and confiscated the business.

  Proclaiming her father was publishing propaganda for the southern rebellion, they wrested the press from her father, killing him in a skirmish to control the written word.

  Knowing her father and how much he loved his company, he would never have handed over the newspaper willingly. Since that time, she'd been trying to get the general to at least pay her family for the presses, the paper, and all the cash they had in the bank accounts. All to no avail. Now living on her last dime, she would like, once again, to write the society column, anything to earn money.

  When she strolled through the door of the building she'd spent her childhood entering, she didn't recognize anything or anyone. All of the old employees were gone and the new staff consisted of soldiers.

  "Excuse me, I'm here to see Colonel Burke."

  The man glanced up at her and smiled. "What's a pretty gal like you want to see the colonel for? I'd be happy to help you."

  The charm sent a shiver of revulsion through her.

  "My name is Anna Tuttle. My father owned this business until you killed him. I want to see the colonel."

  The man frowned but stood. "Wait here. Let me see if he's available."

  He disappeared down the hall and she glanced around at the visible changes. All of the memorabilia from the war her father had collected was gone. Not that she wanted any reminders of that terrible time, but still it was her father's.

  The picture of him that hung in the entryway was gone and in its place was a picture of the colonel. The urge to take a pencil and draw bug eyes and a mustache almost overcame her, but that would land her in jail or worse.

  "Follow me," the young man said, leading the way down the hall to her father's office.

  Memories attacked her, creating a nauseous feeling, overwhelming her along with the musty smell of her father's cigars. How many times had she run into his office and jumped onto his lap? And now he was gone.

  While her father had never been a warm, loving parent, he was the last family member she had and the hole in her heart would never heal.

  The colonel stood behind the old desk her father loved and smiled at her like a snake welcoming her into his den.

  "Miss Tuttle, what can I do for you? Please have a seat."

  She didn't want to sit in his office, the place that belonged to her father. A ripple of uneasiness shuddered through her, but she sat, needing the cash from her father's business. Why did she feel like she was dancing with the devil, trying to survive?

  On the corner of the desk sat her father's favorite paperweight, a newspaper boy statue in iron.

  "I'm here about the money for our family paper. You've taken away our livelihood. When can I expect payment or when will you give me back the business we've owned for generations?"

  The man smiled at her in a way that let her know he thought she was just another southern aristocrat who would pay for the war. Why did she feel hopeless? Why did she feel that all their wealth had been confiscated by the U.S. government?

  "Your father was a war criminal that we tried to arrest. Due to your father's war crimes, a military court has decided to confiscate the newspaper. He was a southern sympathizer. He defended the Confederate army and there is evidence he was a spy."

  "What? Father was no spy. He wrote articles about the war defending the southern cause, but never wa
s he a war criminal or a spy."

  The man shrugged and she knew this was a sham. A way for him to take her father's business. Was there any hope of her receiving the funds at least?

  "Our records disagree. We have proof he told the South of troop movements from the north."

  "Well, that wasn't hard. You were crawling all over Charleston. We all knew you were here."

  The colonel wanted the paper to spread his propaganda of how the Union was going to bring the country back together, and while she felt that was supposed to happen, her family’s newspaper was not part of the equation. They were being used and punished at the same time.

  The man templed his fingers and gave her a fake frown. "Regardless, the business is in the process of being sold. All proceeds will go to the United States government due to your father's confederate record."

  If she could have found something to throw at the man, she would have hurled it at him. "And what am I supposed to do? How can I pay the taxes on my home, eat, or survive?"

  He shrugged and from the fake smile on his face, she knew he was enjoying inflicting harm on southerners. "I hear the hotel in town is looking for maids. Or the saloon is needing waitresses. Might be a good time to start searching for a job."

  If she hadn't loved this place so much and feared going to jail, she would burn it to the ground.

  "My father was an excellent journalist. Our family has owned this newspaper since the city was founded. This is a disgrace that someday people will look back and say you were thieves."

  The man actually smiled at her. "Maybe so, but I'm carrying out the work of the United States government. I'm doing my job. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a newspaper to print. A Union paper."

  While she wanted to berate him, she refused to be anything but the southern belle she'd been raised to be. She refused to lose her self-respect in front of this man.

  Standing, she grabbed the paperweight, glared at the man in uniform and said, "This was my father's. Given to him by his father and I'm taking it. Keep the damn newspaper, but I'd look for a sharp decline in subscribers. Especially when they learn it will always be Yankee trash."

  She turned and walked out the door, her shoulders back, her head held high, her heart in her throat. What would she do now?

  Anna sat, pulling her needle through the quilt, her heart heavy. While her house was paid for, the taxes were not. And she was down to her last fifty dollars. What was she going to do when the money ran out?

  "Good morning, ladies. Hard at work already."

  "Good morning," Anna mumbled. "Yes, working on a quilt I never will use."

  There were no young men to marry. Most of them had died in battle or never returned. The women were gathered around the quilt frame, working on a wedding quilt to be tucked away forever in a hope chest.

  Julia tossed her needlework aside. "We're wasting our time."

  Anna's life was different from her friends. She had no examples of a happy marriage as her mother had died at birth and her father never remarried. Never even considered another woman. With no aunts and uncles or even grandparents, the only married couples she saw were the ones at church. And those were not close family members.

  Ruby started to cry. "We'll never have a husband and children."

  Charity suddenly exclaimed loudly, shocking Anna, "Stop crying. Wipe your eyes. I think I've found a solution."

  Staring at her friends, she had their attention. How could she have a solution to no men to marry?

  "Well, don't keep us in suspense," Julia said in her practical tone.

  Charity pulled out a newspaper she hid in her skirts.

  "What is it?" Sarah asked, her face questioning.

  "A Groom's Gazette. Men place ads in here for a wife. A small town in Montana, Angel Creek, is asking for five women. It's perfect for us."

  They stared at her like she had lost her mind. "Angel Creek needs women. We need husbands. We'd all be together. This would give us an opportunity to have everything we want."

  This could be her escape from the devastation of the war. If her friends were going, she wouldn't be left behind.

  "We would be mail-order brides," Charity said.

  A husband. A family. A chance to get away from the war-torn South. A chance to escape from the Union soldiers who had taken almost everything. Quickly, she made her decision.

  Anna blurted out, "I'm willing to sign up to be a mail-order bride."

  Ruby chimed in. "Me too."

  Charity stared at Sarah, her best friend. "It would be a way to sneak Becca out of town."

  "Yes, I'll do it," Sarah said.

  In unison, all eyes turned to Julia. Only she hadn't responded, and they waited anxiously for her decision.

  Sarah cupped her hand over Julia's. "There's safety in numbers. No one will be alone. If one goes, we all go. Our friendship and support could be just like here."

  A hush fell over the room as they waited. "Yes, I'll join, as long as we all go to the same place."

  Snickering rippled through the room as they realized the decision they had just made. A new beginning.

  "Let's go!"

  "All of us could be married before Christmas," Anna said, thinking of an unknown man waiting to meet her.

  "And possibly children by next fall," Ruby said with a smile.

  Whenever times grew tough and they needed reassurance from one another, they wrapped their arms around each other. Bowing their heads, they suddenly jumped up and down and squealed like the little girls they once were.

  A new beginning. A chance at a new life.

  After traveling by train, then days and days and days on a boat and finally the stagecoach, what seemed like forever, Anna felt nothing short of relief to climb out of the stagecoach and gaze about the little town.

  Angel Creek, Montana, was nothing more than a few streets in the middle of the mountains. No sea air, no battle-scarred buildings, no Union soldiers on every corner waiting for you to break a law. No beggars starving in the streets.

  Gazing up and down the avenue in front of the church, she could see several shops, a bakery, the bank, and houses. What a quaint community compared to the stately older homes of Charleston.

  Anna couldn't believe they had arrived. The long journey was over and now they would soon face the men who paid for them to travel all that way from Charleston.

  Courtship, love, a family, a home were waiting for them in Angel Creek. All the way here, she'd prayed every night he would be a good man.

  As they took the steps up the church, she glanced at the women she'd made this journey with, silently hoping they would each find happiness inside. All of them had been affected by the war wreaking havoc on their lives and leaving the city with very few eligible bachelors.

  Walking into the vestibule of the church, Anna's stomach rolled with nerves, her breathing harsh as she knew she was about to meet her new husband. Part of her wanted to return home, but there was nothing left. No newspaper, no home, not even a living relative within two hundred miles. And now, her friends were all here.

  Over a thousand miles ago, the idea appeared so perfect. Now, she wondered what she had committed herself to. Her heart was beating like a stampede in her chest.

  "Hey, we're getting married," Charity said, gazing at each of them. "This is what we wanted."

  With a deep breath, Anna opened the door to the nave to see a group of four rugged, handsome men staring as one by one they entered.

  But there were only four. Who had traveled all this way only to learn their husband backed out?

  Standing in front, Anna watched as her friends’ names were called and they moved to stand by their man.

  "Charity Kingston," a nice-looking man said.

  "Julia," a rugged-looking man called.

  “Ruby" a man said.

  "Sarah," the lawman called and Anna was so glad that her friend had gotten him. She had a daughter and she needed protection.

  All the men were taken. She was the left-o
ut bride.

  The reverend hurried over to her. "Levi lives out of town. I'm certain he'll be here. He's just running a little late."

  Or was he?

  "Thank you, Reverend," she said, hoping it was true, watching her friends talk to their men, feeling like a child at school not picked for anyone's team. Was this any indication of the type of man her Levi would be? Always late?

  Pacing the floor, she didn't know how long everyone would wait or even if the man would show. She could be the first mail-order bride left at the altar. A no-show groom who she'd traveled all this way to meet.

  Terror gripped her chest. What would she do? With very little money, left in a small town, how could she make a living here?

  Anna sank to the pew and began to pray. If she thought she was orphaned before, now she would really be at the mercy of whatever fate God had planned for her.

  The back door of the building blew open and a deep, gruff voice spoke from the back of the sanctuary. "I'm here."

  A huge bear of a man covered in dust hurried to the front where they waited. Anna stood and made her way to his side.

  "I'm sorry," he said, his beautiful emerald gaze staring at her. "I got here as quick as I could. As you can see, I didn't even clean up. Levi Jackson."

  "Anna Tuttle," she whispered, her stomach twisting in knots. Underneath the dirt, the man was handsome as sin, but still he'd chosen to marry her covered in dirt, wearing his work clothes.

  Part of her bristled on the inside. On the most important day in a woman's life, her memory would be of her husband appearing before her looking like he'd just come in from a pig pen.