The Rancher's Bride

Madeline loves her job working at the newspaper, even if it's under a pen name. What she doesn't love is the knowing glances from her neighbors, thanks to the awful man who turned her away. When she is given the assignment to write about mail order brides, she decides to take it one step farther and become one herself.

Nathaniel loves his homestead in the wilds of Idaho, and he's ready to start up his new business. The only problem is that there are few women in the area, and he hopes to find a wife. When his friends suggest he try finding a mail order bride, Nathaniel finds the fiery Madeline's application and sends off his letter.

While sparks fly between them, things on the ranch aren't quite as perfect. Winter is coming quickly, making it difficult to get the harvest in, and someone is starting fires throughout the valley. Will their troubles be too much for Madeline and Nathaniel to handle, or will their love be enough to create their happily ever after?

 Madeline was tired of the
pitying smiles she got from everyone around her. The poor girl whose betrothed had gone after another woman. It wasn’t that she was upset by him leaving. He had been boring and self-centered.

The fact that he had gone after his secretary had been a blessing in disguise. For the first time in a long time, Madeline was free to do what she wanted to do. And right then, she just wanted to get out of New York City. Her family turned away from her months ago, sure that it was her fault he had left.

Madeline waited for two carriages to pass, then lifted her skirts to cross the street. She pasted a smile on her face and opened the door to the post office. At least here the mailman, Mr. Thompson, didn’t look at her like she was some poor child. He gave her the same flat look he had shared with every other customer.

“I’m here for Mr. Hudson’s mail.” Madeline smiled sweetly at the mailman. 

He raised an eyebrow, but turned to the mail slots and took out the mail for her. “Maybe sometime he can come and get his own mail.”

“Oh, Mr. Hudson’s much too busy to come in.” Madeline tucked the mail into her bag and tipped her hat. Now she just needed to drop off the articles she’d written for the local paper, and she’d be able to go home. 

Unfortunately, that meant going back out onto the streets. Madeline lowered her hat and kept her head down as she walked, hoping to avoid anyone who might know her. She
reached into the bag on her shoulder and pulled out a large envelope with the name ‘Mark Hudson’ on it. The pen name she’d chosen for herself so she could write whatever she wanted instead of what she was told.

The office buzzed with activity as they rushed to get their paper printed for the next day. Madeline nodded to the receptionist and set the envelope on the desk. “Package from Mr. Hudson. It will take care of all his articles for the week. Do you know if the new assignments are ready yet?”

The receptionist sorted through her desk before she pulled out a sheet with a few topics on it. Madeline wouldn’t look at it until she was back at home. After all, it wouldn’t do to have the employee look at her boss’s work.

 Madeline walked the few blocks to her boarding house where she lived and skipped up the steps. An old woman sat in a rocking chair on the porch, staring at something no one else could see.

“Afternoon Ms. Murphy. How is the cat doing?” Madeline had heard all about Ms. Murphy’s cat the night before at dinner.

“Fat and lazy as usual. What are you doing out? Not up to more mischief, I hope?” The old woman smiled and finally met Madeline’s gaze.

Madeline grinned back. “You know me better than that, Ms. Murphy. Would you like help inside? Dinner should be served soon.”

“I’ll take my meal out here, thank you.” And just like that, the blank stare returned, and Ms. Murphy was back in her own world.

Inside, chaos reigned as children chanted their schoolwork back to their tutor, and men sat in the corner of the study talking politics rather loudly. Madeline smiled as she took the steps two at a time. She'd only been here a few weeks, but it
felt like home.

Once she was in the safety of her own room, Madeline dropped her bag on her bed and pulled the mail out. A few catalogs and advertisements, but a white letter poked out. Her payment from the newspaper. She ripped it open and smiled at the
bills inside. A few more weeks, and she would be able to go anywhere she wanted.

The next thing Madeline opened was the list of assignments for her to write. Politics, sports, and . . . Madeline frowned. She hadn't had this topic on her list before. ‘Mail Order Brides and their effect on society.’ What was a mail order bride? It sounded rather dreadful. She pictured a bride being shoved into an envelope and laughed to herself. The other articles could wait. She wanted—no, needed—to find out more about this.

Madeline jumped at the ringing of the dinner bell. She quickly folded the paper and shoved it under her bed along with the money and dropped the rest of the mail into the garbage. Mrs. Stromsky was strict about starting dinner right on time
and if Madeline didn’t hurry, she’d miss her meal.

She checked her hair in the mirror, then went to the door. The hallways were empty as she made her way downstairs, which meant she wouldn't have her choice of
seats. She sighed as she sat down between two older men who enjoyed talking politics. At least this would help her write the article on the latest events happening in Washington DC.

The dinner conversation ranged from what the president was doing wrong to the price of wheat that year. When the argument over which party to vote for began, Madeline had reached her limit. She set her fork and knife down and pushed her
empty plate away.

“What can you tell me about mail order brides?” 

The table went silent as everyone at the table turned to stare at her. Bertram, the one who loved arguing the most, finally leaned forward. “Don't you go worrying yourself about that. You’ll have plenty of men wanting to marry you here.”’

“But you know what they are?” Madeline glanced between them, then fixed her stare on Bertram. “How does it work?”

“There are not enough men in the west, so to fix that, mail order brides have become popular. You place an ad, and when it is answered, your family here never hears
from you again because you are shipped off to wherever your husband-to-be lives. It’s barbaric if you ask me.” 

Madeline smiled. This was just exactly what she wanted to write about. “How do you place
the ad?” 

Bertram huffed. “I’m telling you it’s not important. The west is completely untamed. It’s not the place for a city-raised young woman.”

“It’s a good thing I grew up outside the city then.” Madeline stood and took her plate to the sink, then went upstairs to gather her coat. If she hurried, she could possibly catch the postman before he left the office. 

 ***

Mr. Thompson was just turning the sign from “open” to “closed” as Madeline made it to the front door. This wasn’t the first time she'd shown up for the mail this late, and Mr. Thompson just rolled his eyes and opened the door for her.

“We’re closed even for you, I hope you know.” Mr. Thompson’s half-smile betrayed his stern expression. “What can I do for you?”

“I wondered if you know anything about mail order brides? I need to do some research on it for an art—for a friend.” No need to tell him she was the man she supposedly collected mail for every day.

Mr. Thompson muttered to himself as he searched through piles of papers. When he finally found what he was looking for, he slapped it down in front of her. “You can fill out an application here. People will see your advertisement and will send a letter if they’re interested.”

“Oh, this isn’t for me . . .” But why not? She wasn't tied to anyone here, and she was told to do research on this article. So why not try it herself? Madeline took the pen from Mr. Thompson and dipped it in ink. She wrote out the answers to the questions as quickly as she could and handed it to Mr. Thompson before she could think twice.

“Well, Miss Madeline, I wish you the best of luck. Now, please leave so I can go home.” He took the paper into the back room, making it impossible for her to change her mind.

And that was that. Madeline’s heart thumped in her chest as she left the post office and headed home. She was too deep in thought to care about the looks and whispers she got as she walked. Was it a bad idea to send that in? Probably not. Someone would have to actually pick her
application, and she didn’t have much to offer. Nothing that would interest a man at least. She sighed and opened the door to the boarding house. She went straight to her room and lit the lamps. She would be up late working again.