Mail Order Bride: Bitter & Pregnant, An English Widow Heads Off to Her Cowboy Rancher In California (A Clean & Wholesome Historical Romance)

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Authors: Doreen Milstead
Tags: historical romance victorian romance western romance boxed set romances mail order bride
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Missus Harrow," said Doctor Donner
writing it all down. "Tell me, have you noticed the lack of any
events?"
    "Oh no," said Jeanne. "Are you saying that I
might be with child?"
    "I am," said Doctor Donner. "Congratulations.
Or not, as the case may be."
    "I can use this," said Jeanne. "I can use
this somehow. Thank you, Doctor Donner. I'll square my account with
you before I head to America."
    "No rush," said Doctor Donner. "In fact, just
forget about it. Like I said, your husband helped me quite a
lot."
    "One last thing. Can I get it in
writing?"
    Doctor Donner wrote his diagnosis of Jeanne
and handed it to her and as she left the doctor's office with a
newfound goal, and as she walked by a newsstand, something caught
her eye. It was a broadsheet with a list of names on it, along with
their locations and some light description. Jeanne purchased it and
took it home to look it over, and discovered that it was designed
to help men in the American west find wives.
    She had heard of such things before, but had
never seen one, but now she had a perfect way to get Thackery to
pay for her trip. She poured over the broadsheet that night and
found a man she deemed ideal and the best part was that he was on
the western coast of America, in California.
    She had no intention of actually marrying or
even meeting him. She jotted down his information and took a coach
to Thackery Shipping. Most of the men paid her no heed, though a
few tipped their hats to her and in the office Thackery was working
out some plans when Jeanne came in. He saw her, smiled, and offered
her a chair.
    "Hello, Missus Harrow," said Thackery. "What
can I do for you?"
    "What can you do for us," corrected Jeanne,
and she handed over the papers with the diagnosis and location on
them. Thackery took them and Jeanne continued. "I am with child and
a child can't grow up without a father. I've been in correspondence
with one Joseph Clauson in California. He wishes for a family of
his own and I have offered to become his wife."
    "I see," said Thackery. "An instant family, I
suppose. Well, I can't really stand in the way of love and I do
have an oath to keep -- except I can't very well send a pregnant
woman to America all by herself."
    Jeanne was taken aback. "Excuse me? Why
not?"
    "It wouldn't be proper," said Thackery. "I'll
make all the necessary arrangements. I'll even send your man a
telegraph to let him know you're on your way. I know how expensive
those can be. I'll send your assistant by when I've figured out who
to send with you."
    "Thank you so much," said Jeanne, already
thinking of ways to ditch her assistant. "I eagerly await their
arrival."
     
     
    The next day, Joseph was eating his breakfast
when someone started knocking on his door. He answered it and
recognized the visitor as Henry, a young man from the telegraph
office. He was holding a paper and was quite out of breath.
    "Why don't you come in and take a seat," said
Joseph. "You look bushed. Did you run all the way here? I thought
that you people had horses."
    "We do, but I can't ride one bit," said
Henry. "You have a message all the way from England!"
    "Read it to me," said Joseph, sitting down to
continue his breakfast. "Help yourself to the juice and toast.
Don't touch the bacon."
    "Mighty kind of you," said Henry, gathering
up a plate full of toast. "Only my boss said I wasn't to read it; I
had to give it to you and not put my stupid nose in the private
business of our customers."
    "I see," said Joseph, and he took the letter.
Almost instantly, Henry was over his shoulder. Joseph didn't mind.
The letter was from a man named Thackery, who was sending Joseph
what he termed an "instant family", namely a pregnant widow. She
would be there as soon as possible, probably arriving on train. She
was named Jeanne Harrow and Thackery described her in some detail.
Those details made Henry whistle.
    "She sounds like a good 'un," said Henry, who
had somehow obtained a piece of bacon.
    "She does," said Joseph. " You

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