Rescued by the Mail-Order Groom (Preview)

Prologue

As Clara Wilson walked through the moonlit streets of The Dalles, her heart danced with the echoes of laughter and music from the church dance. The night, alive with the promise of youth, was vibrant and full of anticipation. Her blonde, curly hair caught the soft glow of the moon, framing her face in a halo of golden light.

Beside her, Deputy Ned Jones walked with a steady stride, his presence comforting in the night’s quietude. Clara stole a glance at him, noting the earnest expression on his face and the way his gaze occasionally flickered in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat as she was filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty at his silent companionship.

The dance had been a whirlwind of joy and merriment, with couples twirling and laughing under the soft glow of lanterns. Clara had lost herself in the music, her heart soaring with each step on the worn wooden floor. And now, as she walked home with Ned by her side, she couldn’t help but notice the warmth spreading through her veins.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Clara breathed in the crisp night air, the scent of wildflowers mingling with the faint hint of wood smoke from nearby hearths. It was a moment of quiet beauty, a fleeting respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

As they walked, Clara stole glances at Ned; she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She had known him for years, their paths crossing in the small town of The Dalles on countless occasions. But tonight felt different, an excitement of feelings never spoken about.

With each step, Clara felt herself drawn to Ned, the space between them filled with unspoken words and shared experiences. She longed to reach out and take his hand, to feel the warmth of his touch against her skin. But she hesitated, unsure of where this newfound closeness would lead. They walked slowly, hand in hand. Savouring every moment of this walk home.

Despite the uncertainty in the air, Clara’s contentment washed over her. Tonight was a night to be savoured, a moment of fleeting magic that she would hold dear in the days to come. And as they continued their journey home, bathed in the gentle light of the moon, Clara knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they approached the Wilson farmhouse, Clara felt excited and nervous all over her body. Each step they took forward was a step closer to their final destination. Clara stole a glance at Ned, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of their shared company. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Ned,” she murmured, her voice soft as a summer breeze.

Ned tipped his hat with a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with affection. “It was my pleasure, Clara. You know I’d walk you home every night if I could.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the night enveloping them in its gentle embrace. Then, with a nervous laugh, Ned cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose I should be on my way. Wouldn’t want to keep you up too late.”

Clara’s heart sank and a pang of disappointment stabbed her words at the thought of their evening ending so soon. But she forced a smile, nodding in agreement. “Of course, Ned. Thank you again for walking me home.”

As Ned turned to leave, Clara reached out to touch his arm, her fingers lingering against the fabric of his coat. “Ned, wait,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Ned turned back to face her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of what she might say next. “What is it, Clara?”

Taking a deep breath, Clara summoned the courage to speak the words she had been holding inside for so long. “I… I appreciate your friendship, Ned. You’ve been a wonderful companion tonight.”

Ned’s eyes softened with understanding, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “The feeling is mutual, Clara. Truly.”

Their moment hung suspended in the night air, the unspoken words lingering between them like a gentle breeze. Clara’s body was excited for the possibility of love and touch. As Ned bid her goodnight and disappeared into the darkness, Clara was unable to avoid feeling a pang of regret tugging at her soul.

She watched him go, his figure receding into the shadows, and a part of her wished she had been bolder, braver. What might have happened if she had dared to lean in just a little closer, to let her heart guide her towards the kiss she had been yearning for? Would he have met her halfway, his lips soft against hers in a moment of sweet surrender? Would their embrace have ignited a spark that could never be extinguished, a flame of passion that would consume them both in its fiery embrace?

But alas, Clara knew such fantasies were nothing more than the idle dreams of a foolish girl lost in the throes of infatuation. Ned was a gentleman, and she was a lady, bound by the strictures of society and propriety. Their possibility of love was there. It just stayed there as a possibility. .

With a heavy heart, Clara turned away from the porch, her footsteps echoing hollowly against the wooden boards. She knew she would see Ned again, that their paths would inevitably cross in the small town they both called home. But for now, she would tuck away her dreams of what might have been and resign herself to the quiet solitude of her own thoughts.

A sudden commotion shattered the tranquil night, sending Clara’s heart into a frantic rhythm. She barely had time to process the sensation of a powerful hand clamping over her mouth, stifling her startled cry, before panic surged through her veins. Another hand seized her wrist with a vice-like grip, yanking her away from the familiar comfort of her home.

In the darkness, Clara’s mind raced with fear and confusion. She tried to pull her arm back and twist it while she pulled with the strength of her legs pushing against the ground. She was trying to think of what was happening to her. She knew someone had to be kidnapping her. Her pulse started pounding in her ears, but the grip on her wrist only tightened, urging her forward into the unknown. With each step, her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her chest constricted with terror.

“Ned!” Clara’s desperate plea was muffled by the hand over her mouth. She strained to see through the blindfold, but darkness surrounded her, disorienting and suffocating. She reached out blindly, grasping for anything to anchor herself to reality, but found only emptiness.

Her mind raced with questions, each more terrifying than the last. Who had taken her? Why? And where were they taking her? The answers eluded her, lost in the murky depths of the night.

As she stumbled forward, Clara’s senses heightened, every sound magnified in the darkness. The rustle of leaves beneath her feet, the distant howl of a wolf, the faint whisper of voices carried on the wind—all served to heighten her fear, each moment dragging out into an eternity of uncertainty. She smelled a scent of a person that she didn’t recognize. This scent she would keep in her mind. She strained her eyes to try to see any light or darkness changes as she was being pushed. She tried to count the seconds to see how far away she could be from her home. She felt the hand on her wrist and heard the person breathing as they dragged her around.

With every passing second, Clara’s panic threatened to consume her. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She fought against the overwhelming urge to scream and beg for help, knowing that it would only draw attention to her captors.

In the depths of her fear, Clara clung to the memory of Ned’s smile, the warmth of his touch. She prayed silently for safety, for someone—anyone—to come to her rescue. She thought to herself, “God, please help me survive this. Please help my thoughts be clear. Please help me stay strong!” Clara pleaded to God in her prayer. But as the darkness closed in around her, she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that she was truly alone. She wasn’t safe in her warm home anymore. She didn’t have Ned by her side teasing her with his gentlemanly stride. Where was God when she was already taken? She was truly, truly alone.

Time seemed to stretch into infinity as Clara stumbled forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a relentless drum. Each step was a battle against the darkness, as she would trip over things on the ground. She could be stepping into her own grave or torture chamber and she wouldn’t know any better. She was at the will of these evil hands that gripped her with merciless strength. She could feel the rough texture of the blindfold against her skin, cutting off her vision and leaving her at the mercy of her captors.

These captors, they spoke in hushed tones, their words a sinister melody that sent shivers down Clara’s spine. She strained to catch their meaning, to glean any shred of information that might offer a glimmer of hope in the abyss of despair. As the voices continued to echo in the darkness, Clara’s mind raced with a silent prayer, a desperate plea to whatever higher power might be listening.

“Lord above, are you there? Please grant me strength,” she whispered, her voice barely a whisper in the oppressive silence. “Give me the courage to face whatever lies ahead, to endure the trials in front of me. Guide me through this darkness and lead me back to the light.”

But the voices offered neither solace nor answers. They were like ghosts, unseen presences haunting Clara’s every step. She could feel their eyes upon her, their gazes burning into her like daggers, stripping away her sense of self until she felt nothing but raw, primal fear.

With each passing moment, Clara’s strength waned, her resolve crumbling like the walls of a besieged fortress. Her limbs grew heavy with exhaustion, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The weight of the darkness pressed down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit beneath its relentless weight.

Even still, she refused to surrender. Somewhere in the depths of her soul was a spark of defiance. She clung to it with all her might, using it as a lifeline to guide her through the darkest of nights.

As she stumbled forward, her mind a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty, Clara silently recited the prayers of her childhood, the words a comforting refrain amid chaos. “For health and strength and daily food we praise thy name, oh Lord.”

And though the darkness threatened to consume her, Clara refused to let it extinguish the other flicker of hope that burned within her heart. For she knew that if she held onto that tiny spark of light, she would never truly be alone.

For Clara knew she was not alone in her struggle. She knew it wasn’t even her and God. Somewhere out there, her sister waited, her presence a silent promise of redemption in the face of despair. With every step Clara felt Daisy’s absence like a gaping hole, a void threatening to consume her if she dared to dwell on it for too long.

But despite the overwhelming sense of loss, Clara refused to give in to despair. She clung to the memory of Daisy’s laughter, the warmth of her embrace, the strength of her spirit. In those moments of uncertainty, it was Daisy’s unwavering belief in her that gave Clara the courage to press on, to face whatever trials lay ahead with a steadfast resolve.

For as much as Clara longed to be reunited with her sister, she knew their journey would not be an easy one. The road ahead was fraught with danger, with obstacles that seemed insurmountable to the weary traveller. But Clara was not deterred. She had made a promise to Daisy, a solemn vow to never give up, no matter how dire the circumstances.

And so, with each passing moment, Clara’s determination grew stronger, her resolve steeling itself against the encroaching darkness. She knew that the path ahead would be fraught with peril, but she also knew that as long as she held onto the memory of her sister, she would never be truly alone. Daisy was more than just a sister; she was a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights, a guiding light that would lead Clara back to the safety of home.

And so she pressed on, her steps faltering but her spirit unbroken. She would not allow herself to be consumed by fear. For in the depths of her despair, Clara found the strength. She found strength in picturing the spark with Ned and the memories with her sister.

Chapter One

Six months had passed since Clara vanished into the night, leaving behind only unanswered questions and an aching void in Daisy’s heart. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the farmhouse, Daisy sat at the kitchen table with her embroidery hoop in hand. Her fingers moved mechanically, stitching delicate patterns onto the fabric, but her mind was far away, lost in a maze of theories about what might have happened to her sister.

“You’re at it again, Daisy,” Aunt Annabelle remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing supper. “All this talk about Clara won’t bring her back, you know.”

Daisy glanced up, her brow furrowed. “But Aunt Annabelle, we have to keep searching. We can’t just give up hope.”

Her aunt sighed. “I understand, dear, but we’ve done everything we can. It’s time to accept that Clara may never come home. It’s been six long months and search efforts have come back with nothing”

“But what if she’s out there somewhere, waiting for us to find her?” Daisy persisted, her voice trembling with emotion. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

Aunt Annabelle shook her head, exhausted from hoping for a good outcome of Clara coming home. “You’ve been saying that for months, Daisy. It’s time to face reality. Clara’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to change that.” She tried to say this in a soft, understanding tone. She was also instilling the reality of the situation.

Daisy’s heart sank at her aunt’s words. She knew Aunt Annabelle was right, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Clara’s disappearance than met the eye.

As they sat in uneasy silence, the ticking of the old grandfather clock seemed to echo the relentless march of time, each passing moment a reminder of all they had lost. Daisy longed to lose herself in her work, to lose herself in the rhythmic motion of her needle and thread, but try as she might, she couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at her insides.

Finally, unable to bear the oppressive silence any longer, Daisy spoke up once more. “Aunt Annabelle, do you ever wonder what might have happened to Clara? Do you ever think about where she might be?”

Aunt Annabelle paused, her gaze distant as she stared into the flickering flames of the hearth. “Of course I do. But dwelling on the unknown won’t help anything. We have to focus on the future, on making the best of what we have.” The tone in her voice hinted at the hurt she felt from Clara being gone from their lives as well.

“But what if Clara’s still out there somewhere?” Daisy insisted, her voice rising with desperation. “What if she’s in trouble, and we’re the only ones who can help her?”

Aunt Annabelle shook her head, her expression sorrowful. “We’ve been over this, Daisy. Clara’s either… taking care of herself or,” she pauses and takes a deep breath, “she’s not coming home. We can’t lose ourselves worrying about her, as much as we love her.”

Daisy’s heart constricted at her aunt’s words. She knew Aunt Annabelle meant well, but the thought of abandoning her search for Clara filled her with a sense of dread she couldn’t shake.

As the evening wore on, Daisy’s thoughts drifted back to her sister, her mind consumed by memories of happier times. She left wondering what might have been if Clara had never disappeared, if their lives had taken a different path. But try as she might, she couldn’t escape the lingering sense of unease, a reminder of all they had lost.

Daisy returned to her embroidery, her stitches growing more erratic with each passing moment. She knew she couldn’t give up hope when her sister’s life hung in the balance. No matter what Aunt Annabelle said, she refused to accept that Clara was gone for good. As long as there was breath in her body, Daisy vowed to keep searching, to keep fighting for the sister she loved.

She knew that somewhere out there, in the vast expanse of the unknown, that Clara was waiting. She had to be. No one could convince Daisy otherwise.

Daisy’s fingers trembled as she stitched, the needle pricking her skin as her thoughts wandered back to the night Clara disappeared. It had started out like any other evening, with Clara and Ned walking home from the church dance, their laughter echoing through the quiet streets of The Dalles. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything had changed. She believed Ned, absolutely. At least, she thought she did. She just couldn’t accept that Clara was gone forever.

A shiver ran down Daisy’s spine as she recalled the terror of that night, the fear and confusion that gripped her heart as she searched frantically for her sister. And yet, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing had remained constant: her determination to find Clara, to bring her home where she belonged.

But now, six months later, Daisy’s resolve was wavering. Despite all her efforts and the countless hours spent scouring the countryside for any sign of her sister, Clara remained elusive, her whereabouts unknown. And with each passing day, Daisy’s hope dwindled, replaced by a growing sense of despair.

“Are you listening to me, Daisy?” Aunt Annabelle’s voice broke through Daisy’s thoughts, pulling her back to the present. “I said, doesn’t Susannah have a brother? Perhaps you should consider him as a potential suitor.”

Daisy forced a smile, her heart heavy with sorrow. “I appreciate your concern, Aunt Annabelle, but I’m not sure I’m ready to think about marriage just yet.”

Aunt Annabelle reached out and squeezed Daisy’s hand, her eyes brimming with sympathy. “I understand, dear. And I admire your determination. But you can’t let Clara’s disappearance consume your life. You have to find a way to move forward, to make peace with what’s happened.”

Daisy nodded, her gaze drifting to the window where the last rays of sunlight were fading into the horizon. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But how can I move on when Clara’s still out there, waiting for me to find her?”

Aunt Annabelle sighed, her heart aching for her niece’s pain. “I wish I had an answer for you, Daisy. But sometimes, all we can do is have faith that things will work out in the end.”

With a heavy heart, Daisy returned to her embroidery, her stitches growing more purposeful with each passing moment. She knew Aunt Annabelle meant well, but the thought of giving up on Clara filled her with a sense of dread. No matter what anyone said, she refused to believe that her sister was gone for good. As long as there was breath in her body, Daisy vowed to keep searching, to keep fighting for the sister she loved.

Daisy’s fingers moved mechanically as she finished her embroidery, her mind still consumed by thoughts of Clara. With a heavy sigh, she set aside her work and rose from her seat, crossing the room to the small kitchen where Aunt Annabelle was preparing tea.

The fragrant aroma of chamomile filled the air as Daisy busied herself with pouring the hot water into the delicate china cups. As she worked, her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Aunt Annabelle, her heart heavy with the weight of their words.

“Here you go, Aunt Annabelle,” Daisy said softly, placing the steaming cup of tea in front of her aunt. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

Aunt Annabelle smiled gratefully and took a sip, her eyes closing in blissful contentment. “Thank you, dear. That’s perfect.”

Daisy returned the smile, but behind her polite facade, her mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Aunt Annabelle was right, that she needed to move on from Clara’s disappearance. But how could she, when every fibre of her being screamed for justice, for closure, for the chance to bring her sister home?

Lost in her thoughts, Daisy barely noticed as Aunt Annabelle spoke, her words a distant murmur in the back of her mind. It wasn’t until her aunt reached out and touched her hand that Daisy snapped back to reality, meeting her aunt’s gaze with a start.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Annabelle,” Daisy said, her voice tinged with guilt. “I was miles away just now. What were you saying?”

Aunt Annabelle smiled understandingly, her eyes soft with affection. “I was just saying that I understand how difficult this must be for you, dear. But you can’t keep dwelling on the past. You have to find a way to move forward, to find happiness in the present.”

Daisy nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “I know, Aunt Annabelle. And I’m trying. But it’s not easy, knowing that Clara is still out there somewhere. Possibly alone and afraid.”

Aunt Annabelle reached out and squeezed Daisy’s hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “I know, dear. And I wish there was something I could do to make it easier for you. But you’re not alone, Daisy. You have me, Susannah, and Ned. We’re all here for you, no matter what.”

Daisy’s eyes filled with tears at her aunt’s words, her heart overflowing with gratitude for the love and support she had received since Clara’s disappearance. “Thank you, Aunt Annabelle,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Aunt Annabelle smiled tearfully and reached out to wipe away Daisy’s tears. “You’ll never have to find out, dear. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

As the evening wore on, Daisy found herself lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. After the conversation with Aunt Annabelle, she wondered if Clara was gone. She couldn’t shake the burden she carried—the burden of finding her sister, of bringing her home safe and sound. She stood looking out the window, hoping for her sister to just come walking home like she was never gone. She wished the empty and cold feeling around the house since Clara had been gone would suddenly feel warm, like she was there again. There would be smiles and laughter filling the house. And yet, despite her best efforts to push aside her worries and fears, they lingered like shadows in the corners of her mind, refusing to be ignored.

As she sat in the cosy warmth of the kitchen, the soft glow of the lamplight casting flickering shadows across the walls, Daisy was left feeling a pang of longing for the simple joys of days gone by. She missed the carefree laughter of her childhood, the innocent days spent playing in the fields with Clara by her side. But those days were long gone, replaced by the harsh realities of adulthood and the weight of responsibility that rested heavily on her shoulders. She hated that she couldn’t search for her sister all day. She hated that she had to go back to work and pay bills. She hated that she knew that food and exercise would make her feel better. She didn’t want to be living when everything felt paused without Clara there.

Lost in her thoughts, Daisy barely noticed as Aunt Annabelle rose from her seat and made her way over to the small desk in the room’s corner. It was only when Aunt Annabelle picked up the newspaper that Daisy’s attention was drawn back to the present, her curiosity piqued by the sudden movement.

“What’s that, Aunt Annabelle?” Daisy asked curiously.

Aunt Annabelle glanced up from the newspaper, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Oh, just something I came across earlier today,” she said casually, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

Daisy leaned in closer to get a better look at the newspaper. And then she saw it—the small advertisement, its words jumping out at her in bold print.

“Seeking a Husband: A young woman of good character and strong moral values seeks a husband to share her life and her dreams. Must be honest, hardworking, and willing to settle down. Interested parties, please inquire within.”

Daisy’s heart raced as she read the words, her mind racing with a flurry of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the idea of advertising for a husband seemed utterly absurd. On the other hand, there was a part of her that was intrigued by the possibility, however unlikely it may seem.

“What do you make of that, Aunt Annabelle?” Daisy asked, her voice shaded with uncertainty.

Aunt Annabelle chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, I don’t know, dear. It’s certainly an interesting proposition, wouldn’t you say?”

Daisy nodded, her mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events. “I suppose it is,” she admitted reluctantly. “But do you really think anyone would respond to such an advertisement?”

Aunt Annabelle shrugged nonchalantly. “Who knows, dear? Stranger things have happened. And besides, you never know what—or who—might be waiting just around the corner.”

Daisy’s brow furrowed as she considered her aunt’s words, her mind whirling with a million questions and possibilities. Could this be the answer she had been searching for, the solution to all her problems? Or was it nothing more than a pipe dream, a foolish fantasy born of desperation and despair?

“Might be your only chance,” Annabelle added.

Daisy’s hands trembled as she washed the last of the dishes, the clatter of porcelain echoing through the empty kitchen. Aunt Annabelle’s words echoed in her mind.

“Besides, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up here lately. How else will you meet a man? You don’t go to dances, you don’t…”

“Clara went to a dance and look what happened!” Daisy snapped. Annabelle looked taken aback at her tone.

“Oh! I didn’t mean anything by that. I just meant that you need to get out there. I just want what’s best for you, dear. I just want to see you happy again”

Her aunt’s reproach made Daisy’s blood boil. How dare she suggest Daisy was wasting her life, that she was neglecting her responsibilities by searching for Clara? Didn’t she understand Clara was all Daisy had left—that she couldn’t just abandon her sister and pretend like nothing had happened?

With a heavy sigh, Daisy turned away. Tears started to fill her eyes. She made her way upstairs to her room, the creak of the wooden steps echoing through the house. Annabelle did not follow her, she knew that Daisy needed this time to breathe. This newspaper ad was under good intentions, but Aunt Anabelle did not expect things to blow up the way it did.

As she undressed and slipped beneath the covers, Daisy’s mind was racing. She felt a surge of guilt for snapping at her aunt, for allowing her anger to overshadow the love and gratitude she felt for the woman who had raised her. She knew that Aunt Anabelle only meant to help. But she couldn’t shake the lingering sting of Aunt Annabelle’s words, about the church dance. It just brought back all the memories of Clara disappearing.

What if her aunt was right? What if she really was wasting her life pining away for a sister who may never return? She tossed back and forth in her bed. She would curl up with stomach pain and then stretch out flat on her back. She couldn’t fathom that Clara would never come back, but what if she needed to be ready for that reality? She hated that she might have to be ready for something that painful. Why would God ever let that happen to her? Why would God let that happen to their family?

Sighing wearily, Daisy sank onto her bed, her eyes heavy with unshed tears. The weight of Aunt Annabelle’s words hung heavy in the air, a suffocating reminder of the doubts plaguing her mind.

Closing her eyes, Daisy clasped her trembling hands together in a silent prayer. “Please, God,” she choked through tears. “Give me strength to carry on, to face the uncertainty that lies ahead. Show me the way, guide me through the darkness.”

Her heart ached with longing as she uttered her sister’s name, a desperate plea to the heavens for Clara’s safe return. “Clara,” she murmured, the word a whispered invocation, a fervent prayer that echoed through the silent room.

Finally falling asleep, Daisy clung to the fragile hope that Carla was still out there, even with the doubts that were nagging at her. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t cry often, or at least she didn’t use to. But ever since Clara had vanished, the tears came frequently. She cried at everything, making her seem overly emotional. All the tears were for her missing sister.

No matter what challenges lay ahead, Daisy would never stop searching, never stop fighting for the sister she loved more than life itself. In the depths of the night, surrounded by the quiet embrace of sleep, she whispered her vows to the stars, a solemn oath to never give up, to never surrender to the darkness that sought to extinguish her hope.