A Mid-Summer's Mail-Order Bride Read Online Free

prospective grooms from her hometown all pushed out of shape when their mail-order brides showed up unexpectedly? It didn’t really matter if their parents sent for one, or the town’s mystery matchmaker, or the man in the moon – the effect was the same when no one bothered to tell the groom. Jess Templeton had been the exception – but as it turned out, Jess had ordered her himself, not the mad matchmaker …
    But in the end, all the other matches, no matter how abrupt or star-crossed, had worked out. Could she be so lucky?
    They reached the restaurant and he opened the door for her. Bernice forced herself to keep her chin high and not look at him as she glided past and into the building. A middle-aged man came out from the kitchen area. “Howdy, Warren …” His eyes went to Bernice. “… ma’am. What can I get for ya?”
    “Two coffees,” Mr. Johnson answered without so much as blinking an eye. Bernice tightened her glare. Maybe she didn’t want coffee. Maybe she wanted tea …
    “Ah, is something wrong, ma’am?” the proprietor asked.
    So the glare did work! Bernice turned to him. “Perhaps the gentleman here didn’t take into consideration what I might wish to order.”
    The two men exchanged a quick look. “My apologies, Miss Caulder,” Warren said quickly. “If you’d like something else, then by all means, inform Hank and he’ll get it for you.”
    Bernice felt her face relax. “Well … thank you.” She then looked between the two, a smile on her face. At last, she was sounding like a true lady!
    “Well?” asked Hank. “Did ya want something other than coffee?”
    “Oh no – coffee will be fine.”
    The men shared another glance. With a shrug, Hank disappeared into the kitchen.
    Mr. Johnson waved a hand at the nearest table, went over and pulled a chair out for her. Bernice gave him a regal nod and took a seat. He set her satchel down next to her, went around the table and sat, then stared at her, his jaw slack.
    “Well?” she asked. “Now what?”
    “I … I suppose I get you stage fare back to Independence.”
    Bernice bit her cheek again to keep from bawling, or screaming. Her chest was tight and her stomach knotted. What did the other mail-order brides do when this happened? Surely this was going to work out! If only she knew where the church was …
    “Warren Johnson!” a woman called brightly as the door to the café flew open. “There you are! I just heard the news!”
    Bernice watched as her intended’s face paled. She turned and saw a middle-aged woman in a blue day dress rushing toward them.
    “Hello, Mrs. Riley,” he said, his voice flat.
    “And this must be your bride!” the woman said happily.
    Bernice smiled. At least someone was glad to see her in town. “Hello,” she told the woman, her voice also bright.
    “I’m Leona Riley and I’m so happy to meet you! My son Spencer just informed me you’d gotten into town! Now don’t worry about a thing, dear, I’m an expert at this sort of thing! Why, we’ll have the two of you married in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!”
    “Mrs. Riley,” Mr. Johnson said, his voice panicked. “It’s not what you think –”
    “Of course it is, dear – you’re going to be married! Isn’t it wonderful? And to think, a June wedding! Why, I haven’t helped out with one of those before!”
    “Oh good grief,” Mr. Johnson muttered and covered his eyes with one hand, as if doing so would make the woman go away.
    “Now, do you already have a wedding dress, dear?” Mrs. Riley asked.
    “No, I didn’t have time to have one made –”
    “Well, that will be no problem! I’m sure Mrs. Quinn down at the mercantile will have some lovely fabrics to choose from! Oh, just wait until I tell her the news!”
    “No!” Mr. Johnson blurted, waving his hands at her. “Not Mrs. Quinn!”
    “Well, why not, dear? I’ve got to have help! I can’t get this poor child ready to marry you by myself – there’s too much to do!” She