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Mail Order Brides Collection Boxed Set: Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica, Books 3-6 (Montana Mail Order Brides Series), page 1

 

Mail Order Brides Collection Boxed Set: Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica, Books 3-6 (Montana Mail Order Brides Series)
 



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Mail Order Brides Collection Boxed Set: Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica, Books 3-6 (Montana Mail Order Brides Series)


  Mail Order Brides Collection

  Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica

  Books 3-6

  Rose Jenster

  RoseJenster.com

  Mail Order Bride Felicity

  Felicity works in a millinery shop in upstate New York during the 1880s. A letter arrives from the man she was engaged to marry announcing his sudden marriage to another. This crushes Felicity and she has many difficult days where she reflects on her life and the inevitable future of living with her parents. After shedding many tears, she looks at a newsletter that lists mail order bride advertisements. Despite a broken heart, she writes to a doctor in Montana. Felicity hopes to have a home and family of her own, even if she can never truly love again.

  Will Dr. Walsh's solitary ways, habits and quirks be an ultimate barrier for the two of them? Are their worlds too different to grow a meaningful connection? Will anger win out over patience? Can there be love and healing after heartbreak? What stops Dr. Walsh from relating as he did when he wrote his letters? Will their emotional distance be permanent?

  Mail Order Husband Frank

  Charlotte grew up in New York and had always been fascinated by the penny novels about the wild west. She sacrificed a great deal for her family after her father's death and wanted to take a chance to find love out west before it was too late. Charlotte wrote her former teacher for advice since she herself moved to Montana after answering a mail order bride advertisement.

  Leah played matchmaker, but the initial letters between Charlotte and Frank were quite intense due to Frank's critical side. He is the owner of the Billings, Montana newspaper and they have a similar love for writing. Charlotte has a secret identity in Albany and this gets explored in the novella.

  Charlotte had strong doubts about his character due to Frank's biting and cutting remarks about her brother. But, she takes a chance and moves out west. Can Frank accept being with a caring, but also strong woman? Will his grumpy and argumentative traits make it impossible for him to be in a loving relationship? Is Charlotte able to get past his cantankerous persona and see his true heart?

  Mail Order Bride Verity

  Verity was teaching at an elite boarding school for girls for four years and was crushed to learn that another teacher with more education and skills in languages was going to replace her. Although she still could teach at the academy, her classes now would revolve around grammar, spelling and mechanics. She was devastated to find out that she could no longer teach Shakespeare, Chaucer and the inspirational works she loved.

  The same day that she was demoted, Verity received a letter from her cousin who moved to Montana. This sparked an idea for a new life out west. Verity begins writing to a man who advertised for a mail order bride, but what happens when he finds out that she misrepresented herself? Can Adam forgive her deceptions? Will there be a connection between Adam and Verity after their first stormy meeting? Is there hope for this blacksmith and teacher to find love?

  Mail Order Bride Jessica

  Jessica Donnelly is the daughter of a wealthy family living in Rochester, New York. Through a misunderstanding, her reputation became compromised and her parents feared she would no longer be eligible to marry into a high society family. Her mother decided it would be best for her to go to England and meet a man who would not be familiar with the local gossip. However, Jessica did not want this for herself and in fact was much more comfortable with a life of reading, being around animals and spending time outdoors than attending card parties and fancy events.

  She decided to take matters into her own hands and browse the advertisements in a matrimonial newspaper to find a man out west who might be kind and love her for who she is instead of her dowry.

  Jessica writes to Timothy Lane, the sheriff in Billings, Montana. She hides her wealth from him as well as her reason for desperately wanting to move out west. Can Sheriff Lane, a man who lives with stray animals in his house, be a match for someone who wears lace and was raised with etiquette lessons, musical instruction and tea parties? How does he deal with his awkwardness around her and his discomfort with her upbringing? Can Jessica adjust to Montana Territory and a man who keeps a raccoon and other animals in his home plus has a few secrets of his own?

  Mail Order Brides Collection

  Felicity, Frank, Verity and Jessica

  Books 3-6

  Montana Mail Order Bride Series

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  To receive discounts on future books, free stories, exclusive giveaways and get early notification on newest releases, join my newsletter list here: Free Newsletter or http://forms.aweber.com/form/39/1776483839.htm.

  Stop by and say hello at my website: www.RoseJenster.com or write to me at RoseJenster@gmail.com . I love to connect to my readers and dedicate this book to you. Thank you for the support, loyalty, reviews and interest in these brave women’s journeys!

  Table of Contents

  Mail Order Bride Felicity

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Mail Order Husband Frank

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Mail Order Bride Verity

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Mail Order Bride Jessica

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Books by Rose Jenster

  Mail Order Bride Felicity

  Montana Mail Order Bride Series, Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Albany, New York 1886

  Felicity tucked in the ends of the pale blue ribbon and pinned them securely before deciding to risk adding a single embellishment. Mrs. Mayhew usually wanted her hats to be no-nonsense, and this straw boater was no exception. She had consented to the blue and white striped ribbon at the crown but specified that she was to add no flowers whatsoever. Felicity had worked in the millinery shop for three years and she had a harmless love of pretty things. Such a plain, unadorned hat offended her sensibilities. She cast around the shop’s workroom for anything she might use to give the hat some style, to set it apart without making it frilly. Felicity wanted Mrs. Mayhew to be happy with her order, but she couldn’t imagine the woman could be content without some special touch, however small, to make the hat beautiful.

  She picked through piles of feathers and beads, bypassed the paper flowers with a longing backward glance. At last she found it,
the prettiest lone pewter button, a flat round one with a raised design of wheat on it. Surely it was tailored enough, simple enough. She fixed it to the ribbon band and held the hat out at arm’s length, satisfied with her work. Felicity wrapped it carefully and boxed it so it could be delivered to that good lady.

  The tinkling of the bell strap on the shop door heralded the entrance of a new customer. Felicity patted her hair into place and rushed out to the showroom. Her smile was genuine as she welcomed Mrs. Sullivan to the shop. Mrs. Sullivan was notoriously miserly similar to her husband and would go to shops and browse for hours, running salesgirls off their feet while seldom buying at all. Most of the girls who worked in the high street hated to see her entrance because it would mean ages of bowing and scraping with no sale to show for it. Felicity, however, looked upon her as a challenge.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sullivan. May I help you with anything this fine day?” Felicity inquired good-naturedly.

  “I thought I’d have a bit of a browse,” the older woman said, stopping at the looking glass to unpin her own tired brown felt hat.

  The hat had developed a shine from being brushed for so many years, and Felicity almost felt sorry for her. She knew they had money enough, so it was sad that the lady could not even enjoy the thrill of getting a new hat once in a while. Now, Felicity had a cunning little hat put back for herself which she would finish paying for when she got her wages on Friday. It was the prettiest bonnet, a creamy pink with little pale false cherries at the curving brim, a single curling feather dyed pink to match, and a bunch of peonies at the crown. It gave her a thrill just thinking of her bonnet, the one she’d made up specially to go with her last year’s spring walking dress of pink sprigged dimity. It was such a shame that Mrs. Sullivan didn’t find joy in such lovely small things.

  “Here, allow me to help you.” Felicity took the distasteful hat and held it as carefully as if it had been the most sophisticated silk hat in all of New York State.

  Felicity watched carefully to see which styles attracted Mrs. Sullivan, and her suspicions were correct. A woman with a serviceable ten-year-old brown hat was bound to yearn for something light and pretty and a bit fancy. Sure enough, she made straight for the straw bonnet edged in mint green satin ribbon and tied with a wide generous swath of the same color. Felicity longed to see the drab woman in such a feminine hat and urged her to try it.

  “Well, perhaps just for a moment,” Mrs. Sullivan said, her voice uncertain. “I was looking for a more practical hat.”

  “Sometimes the most practical hat is the one you’ll wear the most. How could you select anything else from your wardrobe when you had this to put on each morning?” She raised this question as she settled the bonnet on the lady’s faded brown hair and tied the ribbon for her in a perfectly symmetrical bow.

  Mrs. Sullivan turned to the looking glass to survey her reflection critically, but at the sight of herself, her cheeks bloomed pink, and she smiled. Looking at Felicity, she seemed a bit embarrassed.

  “I never had such a hat even when I was only a girl,” she admitted.

  “Then it’s about time you had one, isn’t it?” Felicity said sturdily. “Don’t pretty things just make you feel happier?”

  “Yes, I suppose they do,” the woman said hesitantly. “Did you trim this hat yourself?”

  “No, Mrs. Rochester did that, the shop owner. She’s miles ahead of me in design, but I’ve learned a great deal from her,” Felicity said graciously.

  “I will take this one I think,” she said decisively, giving Felicity the price of the hat from her reticule.

  “Would you like me to wrap it for you?”

  “No. I believe I shall wear it home,” she said, her cheeks pink with delight. Felicity smiled in harmony with the woman.

  As Mrs. Sullivan left, Letty Rochester, the shop owner came in, swiveling in surprise to admire the astonishing new hat on the lady’s head.

  “Why, Mrs. Sullivan, you look divine!” she exclaimed, eyes darting to Felicity incredulously.

  “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Rochester. I understand this is your handiwork. I couldn’t resist it. Your girl convinced me.” She smiled and sailed off down the walk.

  “You ‘convinced’ that skinflint to buy a new hat? I’ve had this shop twelve years, and I’ve never managed to get her to do more than try on seven or eight of them, sniff that the cost is too dear, and walk out in her rusty old brown one,” Mrs. Rochester marveled.

  “Well, Letty, it must have been my lucky day. She was wavering like she wasn’t even going to stay and look, but her eyes fixed on that gorgeous creation of yours, and I think she was in love at first sight.”

  “You must have some sort of magic, to stop her turning round and leaving rather than parting with the money. She did pay for it? We’re not to bill her are we?”

  “Here you are,” Felicity handed Letty the money.

  “Unbelievable. You’re a star.”

  “I’m learning from the best, Letty. You’ve been so good to me, really,” Felicity said warmly.

  Letty was a widow who had no children of her own, and Felicity suspected she looked on her as a sort of daughter. She smiled at Felicity fondly and would have spoken to her longer but two customers strolled into the shop and there was business to conduct. Felicity complimented one of the ladies on her lovely shawl and offered to show her a new bonnet that had forget-me-nots of just that same shade of blue. She made quick work of it, and the young lady carried her new bonnet proudly out of the store when they departed.

  After a long, productive day in the shop, Felicity took her leave and walked to her parents’ home a few blocks away. It was a modest house but very tidy, and still home to her three brothers and herself. Her elder brother, Tommy, was courting the pastor’s daughter, and they expected an announcement soon. Her two younger brothers were still in school. As she entered the house and set about unbuttoning her boots, she smelled the stew cooking in the kitchen. Felicity washed her face and hands and tidied her hair before going in to the kitchen to see her mother. Lavinia Chapman had been something of a belle in her youth and had married Roger after the war when he was a handsome soldier with a wounded leg. Although Felicity had heard stories of her mother’s beauty and had once worn a lovely dress of yellow silk that her mother cut down from an old gown of her own, she knew her only as a faded, rushed, and generally cross mother.

  Felicity dropped a careless kiss on her mother’s cheek and said hello.

  “Could you mind the stew while I go collect the post?” her mother asked.

  “I will in a minute, Mother. I must change my gown first lest I get a splatter on it,” she said, stepping away from the stove, mindful of her finery. It was a particularly pretty dress of lavender with a bit of lace at the cuffs, and she was fearful to get a spot on it.

  Felicity retreated up the stairs and changed into an older calico dress that was a trifle too short. It showed her ankles, but she was home for the night so it didn’t matter. She made her way to the kitchen, and her mother was waiting, with her hands on her hips.

  “Stir it, but don’t meddle with it,” her mother cautioned, knowing her impetuous daughter too well. More than once she’d given in to an impulse to try adding more salt or pepper to a dish only to end up ruining the meal.

  “I will. If there’s anything in the post for me, hurry back!” Felicity urged.

  While her mother was gone and the house was quiet momentarily, Felicity looked around. The table was old and crooked, with one leg that wobbled. They had braced it with a book. The yellow tablecloth had been nice once but was nearly beyond mending now. Their dishes were what was left of the set that her mother and father received when they married—some of which had been broken and the rest were chipped from careless handling by a daughter who didn’t like washing up plus tended toward daydreams.

  She set the table as carefully as if it were the finest china from England. As she did, she imagined what her own new dining table would look like with the
pretty lavender cloth laid on it—the one she had folded neatly in her hope chest. Any day now, Daniel would send for her to join him in Wyoming where they would marry and start their new life together, braving the western frontier and facing all the trials of life in a new country side by side. It was so romantic, so courageous that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Truly, when Daniel had told her he wanted to move out West, she had been dismayed. When he told her he would claim a homestead and get settled and then send for her, she enjoyed the idea of stepping off the train in an elegant traveling costume with a wide straw hat and perhaps a parasol. She would be a refined, sophisticated vision, the picture of fashion, to all those prosaic homesteaders and their sunburnt wives in homespun. Perhaps she could help out in a millinery shop there and bring some color and style to the village where Daniel had settled. Felicity knew it could take the post up to six weeks to deliver a letter, but she’d written to him over three months ago now and hadn’t heard a line back.

  When she mentioned it casually to her mother, Felicity was annoyed to be told that the man was probably too busy tending a farm and building a cabin to spend time writing her sonnets. Her parents didn’t understand their amour, she thought, as she smoothed a wrinkle from the tablecloth and noticed it really did need a good starch and press.

  Felicity smelled something burning and wheeled around with a cry to stir the stew and hope there wasn’t too much stuck to the pot. She was annoyed that she’d forgotten about it, but she wasn’t really surprised. When her mother came in, she set the post on the table and took the stew off the stove with a pointed glance. Felicity riffled through the mail and found a letter addressed to her. With a squeal, she darted off to her bedroom to read it. Daniel’s careless scrawl was unmistakable on the envelope. She slit the envelope with a hairpin and unfolded the page. Where she had hoped to have a long letter detailing their new home and his readiness for her arrival, there were only two scant paragraphs, reaching barely halfway down the page. Bewildered, she read.

 
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