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Ruby (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 3) by Hildie McQueen, Angel Creek Christmas Brides (1)


Prologue

 

Christmas eve was always a time of happy moments and memories.  There was nothing better in Ruby Collins’ opinion than being surrounded by her dearest friends and their collective children and grand-children.

At the moment the grandchildren had gathered to hear stories.  This year, they’d ended up telling of when the five friends had first arrived at Angel Creek.  What a time it had been, with so many changes to each of their lives.

Now it seemed it was her turn as every one looked to her in silent anticipation.  Julia and Charity had told wonderful tales of their adventure, after the five friends decided to move to Montana and start anew right after the civil war.

And now in their seventies, all five, Charity, Anna, Julia, Sarah and herself remained in the small town of Angel Creek, where they’d met and lived for fifty years.  God had blessed them and they’d each married the love of their life.

Her heart ached at retelling the familiar tale of travel to an unfamiliar territory and marrying the town’s doctor.  The wonderful Trevor Collins, who’d, recently died holding her hand and promising to wait for her. Her lips curved at recalling his stubborn demand that she not cry for him.  He’d always been a headstrong man.

Ruby cleared her throat, pushing away the memory of her husband. “I will try not repeating what Charity or Julia have already said.  Let me think.  What was that feeling in my chest, that tightness that threatened to consume me?”  She pressed her hands to her breasts theatrically. 

“Ah yes, there, I remember.  It was as if I’d never be able to take a full breath again.  My stomach was in knots and I shook uncontrollably.  It was so very cold that day.”  She shook with enthusiasm loving how large the children’s eyes became.

“For goodness sakes Ruby,” Sarah said shaking her head.  “Start your story.  Tell them what happened when you arrived here in Angel Creek.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Angel Creek, Montana, 1865

 

 

The heavy fabric of her dress, woven stockings, and a long thick wool cloak did little to stop Ruby Henderson from trembling. The combination of the frigid Montana winter and nerves made her shake to the point her teeth chattered. If this kept up, she’d be spitting out bits of her molars.

The stagecoach slowed, making the familiar side-to-side jostling easier now. When it came to a full stop, the five friends sat frozen in place, their wide eyes moving to each other.

A few moments later, the stagecoach door was pulled open and the five women emerged, helped by a couple of men who paid them little heed. The stagecoach driver and the other man seemed more preoccupied with looking up at the sky as if expecting something to fall on them.

The women waited for someone to escort them from what looked to be the edge of Angel Creek. Through the steady snowfall, across the dirt road a whitewashed chapel blended into the snowy backdrop of soaring mountains.

With the snow falling so steadily, the thick flakes prohibited her from seeing the much of the town. Ruby lifted to her toes to peer down the street. There was a long stretch of wooden buildings with wooden planked walkways across the fronts. No frills, just wood and nails, most of the structures seemed built more for utilitarian purposes than for any kind of appeal.

They were hurried across the street by a man who’d introduced himself as Henry. No more, no less. Short in stature with a scraggly beard and overly long hair, the man looked to be in his late forties. Henry pulled the collar of his jacket up and motioned impatiently for them to follow.

“Let’s git ya into the church,” Henry shouted. “Ain’t no use in waitin’ for anything.”

All at once, the women began to ask questions.

“Are we to stay somewhere near the chapel tonight?” Anna asked.

“Will our luggage be brought here?” Charity asked next.

“Where are our soon to be husbands?” Julia inquired.

“What time is it?” Sarah asked.

Henry frowned and nodded, which was annoying as it didn’t answer any of their questions. Like her companions, Ruby had many questions to ask at the moment. Hopefully once inside, someone would tell them exactly what was planned on this day.

Would the local clergy perform a simple ceremony with an intimate reception of some sort to follow. Surely, they’d be allowed to freshen up and perhaps rest for a day before the marriage ceremony.

From the front of the church an older woman hurried down to meet them. “I’m Rosalind Abernathy, I own the apothecary here in town.” The woman said in a no nonsense tone. “They are about ready. Reverend Tilly insisted on giving the grooms last minute counsel.” The woman, whose hair was greyer than brown, had the same consternated look as Henry.

“Is there a room where we can have some privacy to freshen up?” Ruby asked, only to receive a befuddled look from the woman.

“I’m afraid there isn’t time for much more than the ceremony,” Mrs. Abernathy replied looking up at the sky. “A bad storm comes. We were all worried sick you’d not arrive in time.”

“Come along.” The woman rushed to the door and pulled it open.

Along with her four best friends, they ascended the steps into the small chapel. Sarah, one of her friends, slipped her arm through Ruby’s and shivered.

This was definitely the most uncharacteristic thing the group of women had ever done. Fueled by the fact there were no men of marriageable age left in their hometown after the end of the war and any prospects of having families were gone, they made the drastic decision to go west.

Ruby and her four close friends decided the best course of action, if they ever wanted to marry, would be to go west as mail order brides.

Now they found themselves thousands of miles from their Charleston, South Carolina homes in Angel Creek, Montana and on the brink of marrying total strangers. The stark realization of how much was at stake made Ruby wonder if they’d acted in haste.

“It’s freezing out there.” Mrs. Abernathy motioned them in with both hands. “As soon as we get you married, you can go home and warm up.”

In truth, the last day had been arduous. A winter storm raged throughout the area. At times, they’d been warned the stagecoach may not make it. Thankfully they did, and the poor horses were quickly led to warm up in the town’s stables.

The interior of the church was warm and bright. About a dozen lanterns had been lit and placed on various surfaces throughout the small chapel. In the hearth, a cheerful fire added warmth and more light.

A group of four men were gathered by the hearth. In unison, all of them turned upon hearing the ladies enter, each with varying curious expressions.

A rotund man with rosy cheeks and a warm smile hurried to them, holding his arms out as if wanting to encompass them in a warm hug. Ruby wasn’t about to allow him to. It would be unbecoming. Thankfully he stopped about a foot from them.

“Good afternoon ladies. I am reverend Tilly. Welcome to Angel Creek. Just waiting on one groom to arrive and we can get started. He should be here any moment.” He motioned them forward, his hands fanning through the air. “I do hope he hurries. The storm is getting worse.”

Everyone was silent, as the two groups stood awkwardly facing the other. It struck Ruby as comical. If not for being near hysteria from nerves, she would have surely giggled.

When her friends turned to her, Ruby realized that perhaps a faint chuckle had escaped. No matter, she was not alone. Her friends were there. Once the unpleasant awkward moments were over, they would fall into routines and every day life. After a few weeks, they could move on to enjoying their new lives.

 She scanned the faces of the four grooms, hesitating for a second or two on each of them as she tried to ascertain which one would be her husband.

The men studied each of them in return as they waited to be introduced. Her husband to be Trevor Collins was the town’s doctor. From what she understood, he was the only doctor in the area. In her opinion, none of the men present had the countenance of a doctor. Doctors were usually stoic older men who dressed well. The men present wore worn dungarees, loose shirts unbuttoned at the throat, and each one had the look of someone who’d not bathed recently.

It was more than obvious the group of men gathered did not have a good woman to ensure to their needs. Seeming to be comfortable around each other, the men exchanged quizzical looks and mumbled comments so as not to be overheard. Ruby looked to her companions only to find them pale and wide-eyed, either staring at the men, the floor, or the preacher.

Her gaze lighted on one man in particular. Something about him gave her pause. With smooth olive skin, dark eyes and almost black hair, he stood out from the others. He was handsome in a roguish way that made her hope he wasn’t the doctor. No, it was impossible. The dark man seemed more what she pictured a gambler or an outlaw would look like, rather than the town’s doctor.

She shuddered, worried now for whichever of her friends would end up married to an outlaw. Once he was partnered up, she’d bring up her concerns and demand her friend come to live with her and the doctor. She would not stand by and allow any of her most loved friends to be taken away by a wanted man.

Around her, introductions were being made. Ruby couldn’t keep track of who was for who and what the men’s names were. Everyone seemed to be speaking at once.

“Very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Ruby,” the outlaw said to her, his hand reaching for hers. “I’m Trevor Collins.”

“You can’t possibly be.” She looked to the others who were now exchanging introductions with their partners. All but poor Anna, who’s groom had yet to appear.

“I am,” he said giving her a strange look. “Why do you doubt it?”

Ruby couldn’t think of what to say. “It’s just...you seem... young for a doctor.”

His lips curved and he looked even more like a rogue when dimples formed. “I am old enough, I assure you.”

Not sure what to say, she silently held out her hand to be enveloped by his larger one. His hand was warm and calloused. Certainly not what a doctor’s hand should feel like in her opinion.

The preacher and Mrs. Abernathy guided them to the front of the church to stand before an altar. Despite the cold weather, the reverend took out a handkerchief and wiped it across his face.

Ruby stole several glances at Trevor. Surely this was a mistake. He was not like any doctor she’d ever known, not that she knew many. But, the doctors who’d visited her home over the years had all been older, rumpled appearing, and wore spectacles. This man had no spectacles and although perhaps a year or two her senior, he was not an older man. From the corner of her eye, Ruby stole a glance at his chest to see if spectacles were in his pocket. There weren’t any to be seen.

There was a commotion at the doorway and a large man appeared. It seemed Anna’s husband-to-be had arrived. The grimy bear of a man moved smoothly for his size as he went to stand by a shocked Anna. Ruby knew here eyes were as wide as Anna’s when they exchanged looks. She couldn’t help feeling horrible for her friend. The man was not only huge, but didn’t seem pleased to be there.

Poor Anna was to be saddled with the blacksmith, who obviously had not taken time to do even the most minimal of things to make himself presentable.

Ruby let out a breath as she tried to think of how to help her friend.

She stole another look at Trevor Collins. At least her groom was handsome.

Much too attractive actually.

 “I have this for you. It’s too cold for flowers. I know it’s not much.” Trevor handed her an exquisitely embroidered silken handkerchief.

Ruby held the cloth with both hands considering if she’d be using it sooner than later as her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you...it’s beautiful.”

It was then she remembered her gift for him. “I wasn’t sure what to bring for you, hopefully this is something you’ll use.” From a pocket in her dress, she drew out a small cloth sack in which she’d tucked a pocket silver vesta case. When visiting a shop in Charleston, the match case with an intricate design had garnered her attention.

Ruby cleared her throat. “I don’t know if it’s useful, but I think it’s pretty....”

“Thank you, it’s very nice,” Trevor said. The corners of his lips lifted just a touch.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we should begin.” The reverend got their attention. “I’ll keep it brief as the storm seems to be upon us.”

She took a shaky breath. They wouldn’t be given time to freshen up or change. Her hair was tangled and dirty. As much as she’d been judgmental of the men’s appearances, admittedly she and her companions didn’t fare much better. They’d not stopped but for a few minutes along the way, and with it being so frigid, they’d only exited for calls of nature and returned hastily to the coach.

The reverend began to rattle off the wedding vows, prompting them to repeat certain phrases. Ruby could barely concentrate, her mind awhirl at considering what lay ahead. In a few moments, she’d be married and on the brink of a new life in Angel Creek.

 

The day she’d announced the plans to go west to her parents, they’d been surprisingly supportive. Upon learning that her husband to be was a doctor, her mother had been excited at the prospect. They’d made plans, made dresses, and tried to do their best to acquire what she’d need for the move. Many of the shops were closed down since people had left Charleston in droves after their husbands and sons had been killed. Thankfully most of Charleston’s historic homes had been spared. Many of the buildings also remained intact as the union soldiers had used them for offices and barracks.

Once the day of her departure neared, the mood in Ruby’s home had changed drastically and concern for her well-being became the topic at every meal.

“What if something happens along the way?” her mother had asked one night over dinner. “How can we be sure the train or stagecoach won’t be accosted by outlaws or wild Indians?”

Her father waved her mother’s concerns away. “The people who run the train and the stagecoach enterprises have measures in place, I’m sure.”

“What kind of measures?” both she and her mother had asked at once.

“I am not sure. Hired guns perhaps.” Her father’s reply made her mother cry. Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if she was leaving one war for another.

“Gun fights. I hear they are an everyday occurrence,” her mother sobbed, soaking a handkerchief as she spoke. “We want Ruby safe, not shot in a gun fight.”

Ruby’s chest tightened and she lost her ability to breathe. She and her four friends had gone over every possible scenario, but they’d not discussed what to do in case of a gunfight, or worse an Indian attack.

“I will buy her a gun,” her father had announced. “A small one she can carry on her person.”

When her mother swooned, Ruby giggled at the entire situation. “Father, you are only making things worse. I accept your offer of a gun, but please let’s change the subject. You are making us both very nervous.”

Her mother’s eyes fluttered and she let out a long sigh. “My poor baby. You must telegraph immediately upon your arrival.”

 

“...husbands and wives. You may kiss your brides,” the reverend’s words sunk through her musings. Trevor looked to her as if assessing what to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Ruby said, not wanting to put off the inevitable task of kissing a total stranger.

He leaned closer, his eyes locked to her parted lips. While expecting the kiss, her husband’s lips pressing over hers still startled Ruby. The kiss was soft and swift, sending a flush of heat from her chest up to her cheeks. Sure her face was beet red, she ducked and looked to the floor. Goodness, to kiss someone minutes after meeting was scandalous. So very unexpected and pleasant, if she were to be honest.

 

After tearful farewells, as no one was sure how long the storm would keep them cloistered, Ruby finally allowed Trevor to guide her out. Someone had arranged to send her small carpetbag to his home, so that left her with only a reticule to carry.

Upon stepping outside, the icy wind took made Ruby gasp. The freezing wind cut straight through her thick cloak. “How far do you live?”

Trevor motioned with his right hand. “Only a few minutes walk. Come, I’ll help you.” He placed his arms around her shoulders attempting to shelter her from the falling snow and hard wind. It didn’t help much, but the awareness of him however did dispel some of the chill.

 

Trevor wasn’t sure if his new wife shook from the cold or because of wedding nerves. In all, probably from both. That she’d be so overwrought seemed kind of strange to him since they’d known about it for months. Then again, what he knew about women came only from treating them.

One thing he’d learned over the years was that when it came to pain and injury, women were a stronger sex. They withstood pain with soft moans that would make a grown man pass out.

He slid a look at his new bride. Ruby was much prettier than he’d expected, and he had actually been struck silent when she’d walked into the chapel.

“H-how f-far to your h-house?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“Just around the corner,” he replied leaving out the part of having to walk down that street for a bit before arriving at his home. He’d not considered bringing a wagon since the walk wasn’t far in his opinion. With the storm brewing, it was easier to brave the wind and walk than to try manage nervous horses and an equally jittery bride.

Pulling his bride against him, he pressed her to a brisker pace. She kept up even though Ruby was shorter than him by almost a foot, the top of her head at his shoulder. Lifting her head she scanned the area.

Being from the east himself, he knew Angel Creek appeared rustic and uncultured. In truth, it was a vibrant small town when the cold didn’t force everyone indoors. She let out a sigh as if finding the surroundings unacceptable.

Earlier, when Ruby had entered the chapel, her expression guarded, she’d closely inspected him and the other three bachelors. Her intelligent eyes scanning over them, seeming to dismiss each one systematically as they didn’t meet whatever criteria her mind was set on. It was interesting that she’d hesitated upon seeing him, and her head had cocked just a bit. Then after a few moments, he too was dismissed.

His lips curved, wondering what she’d been expecting. One day he’d ask, but for now, it was best to get her warmed up and settled. They had plenty of time to talk.

Trevor’s chest tightened when she sniffed and wiped at her cheeks.

“Are you crying?” It was a stupid question, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I’m sad for Anna. Her husband was untidy and well... Julia is going away to where ever her husband lives. I’m afraid for her.” This time when she sniffed, it was accompanied by a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I imagine each of you is going through a lot of emotions right now.” They walked a few moments and he was grateful to arrive at his house. “This is your new home Ruby.”

She hesitated, distracted from her sadness for the moment, and looked from the house to him. “It’s larger than I expected.” Her lips curved just a bit, and he smiled in return.

“Let’s get inside so you can warm up. I’ll see about getting some supper started.”

“Oh?” she said, giving him a quizzical look. “I must admit to not knowing how to cook very well, but I’ve seen it done and am sure I’ll be able to learn in no time. I’m a quick study.” With those words, she allowed him to guide her up the steps to the doorway.

“Doctor Collins.” A young teenage boy named Hank rushed to them just as they walked inside. “There’s a man at the clinic. He’s been run straight through with arrows.”

When Ruby stumbled forward, Trevor realized he pushed her harder than he planned in his haste to keep her from hearing what Hank had called out. Surely a woman just arriving from the south, who was no doubt raised in a home where she’d not had to cook, would not be keen to hear such things. At least not so soon after arriving.

She paled even further and her widened eyes moved from Hank, who stood just inside the door, to him. “Do Indians often attack people here?” She looked about to swoon so he took her by the shoulders and met her gaze. “Breathe in slowly.” She did although it was shaky. “Now out.” Trevor looked over his shoulder at Hank who shifted from one foot to the other. “Get him inside and onto the bed. I’ll be there shortly.”

Cold air blasted in when Hank opened the door and hurried back out into the snow.

Trevor led her to a chair in front of the fireplace. “I have to go. The bedroom on the right is ours. Feel free to freshen up and rest. There are some food items in the kitchen.” He went to the hearth. “You can put the kettle on the hook here.” Pulling on the iron hook hinge, he demonstrated how to move it. “There is a large pitcher of water in the kitchen you can use to fill it up to make tea or coffee.”

Unsure what else to say, he stopped speaking. The poor woman remained with the same wide-eyed confused expression.

“All right, so I will sleep in another bedroom when I return. Don’t fret over that.”

That said, he hurried from the house wondering if she’d heard a word he’d said. Of all the times for this to happen. It was rare that anyone with any kind of injuries such as this came to Angel Creek. Especially not during the winter when most people tended to remain indoors including the Indians. Also as unlikely was that any Indian would attack a person. The local tribes were friendly, often coming to Angel Creek to make trades.

After closing the door tightly behind him, he hurried out the door toward the clinic just a few yards away.