Angie's Hope (Valentine Mail Order Bride 7) Read online

  Angie’s Hope

  Valentines Mail Order Brides

  Book Seven

  © Copyright 2016 by Lorena Dove. All right reserved

  This book or any parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, except for legitimate quotes for review purposes. It may not be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, electronic or mechanical, or otherwise copied without the prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Real place names and public names may be used for atmospheric purpose. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.v.1.0

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  Enjoy your trip back to a simpler time,

  Author of inspirational western romance fiction

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter 8

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  MAE’S CHOICE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Chapter One

  “Take care, now, Angie, to look after God’s little ones. He has given them to your care for the time you have with them.”

  “I will, Father. I love them as my own,” Angie said, watching as he shuffled more stiffly then usual past the altar to his tiny office in the side of the church. The church empty, Angie finished hanging her father’s vestments in the closet behind the altar. She paused to look up at the soaring stained-glass windows as her hand trailed along the finely carved wooden altar rail.

  As my own—but not my own. She turned to round up her class of 6- and 7-year-olds from the foyer. A thought—not quite a prayer—came to her mind as she looked out the window at the young couples strolling away, the mothers kissing their children as they admonished them to wait for Angie. She loved serving the church and wouldn’t dream of not helping her father in his ministry, especially as the years seemed to wear on him. But as the time passed since her own school days, it seemed her chance of marriage, a home of her own, and children grew further away.

  She and her friends who met for Bible study talked often of their lives. Despite their fears, poor connections and lack of suitors, her friends had their work—and hopes and dreams. Angie really had none. She had always served in the church, and it seemed as if she would play the organ and teach the children and live alone with her parents for the rest of her life. “If it is God’s will,” she breathed out loud.

  After the children’s Sunday school class, Angie crossed the short sidewalk leading from the church to the parsonage to help her younger sister, Nancy, prepare a cold lunch for her father and mother.

  “Make sure to slice the meat thin, dear,” Mrs. Simmons called from the sofa in the parlor. “You know my stomach pains me dreadfully.”

  “Yes, Mother, of course I will,” Angie said.

  “Will you tell the girls tomorrow I’m sorry to miss them?” Nancy asked. She was already regretting having to stay home from the Bible study group to care for her mother.

  “Yes, I’m sorry it’s your turn to stay home this week,” Angie said. “If you want to go, I don’t mind.”

  “Really? Well—no, that wouldn’t be fair.” Nancy loved the company of the young ladies, especially because they were a few years older. She was preparing for a nursing course, and loved to talk about her plans with the group of friends.

  The girls brought the small table in the parlor to the center of the room and the family gathered around.

  June Simmons seemed to struggle to sit up, but proceeded to attack the sandwich placed before her with abandon. The matron of the family had long refrained from household work or even helping her husband in the church, as she flirted with one ailment after another searching for the right combination of horrible diagnosis, untreatable symptoms, and continued indulgence of her appetite.

  “Make sure to clean up straight away, girls,” Mrs. Simmons admonished between mouthfuls. “It’s at New Year’s that young gentlemen come calling, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if several eligible bachelors from wider circles than this little parish will be knocking on our door.”

  “Really, Mother? Who? Do you know them?” Nancy asked excitedly, her maturity not yet blossomed enough to see through her mother’s unjustified airs.

  “Mother, it’s almost February, the New Year’s calling is over,” Angie said directly. Seeing Nancy’s hopeful face cloud over, she added, “But for you, dear sister, gentlemen will always call. You’re the prettiest and sweetest young woman of courting age I know.”

  “In my day, I had scads of callers from New Year’s straight through February. Each one I encouraged with the slightest grace would improve his offer by Valentine’s Day. Oh the cards, flowers and sweets were divine. What I wouldn’t give to be young again!”

  Rector Simmons took no notice of his wife’s insult as he quietly enjoyed the meal. “It was an honor to court you, June,” he said quietly.

  Angie smiled at her father and closed her hand over his in a warm squeeze. Mrs. Simmons and Nancy continued on about the possible young men that might call. And yet, it was always the same—never a knock on the door.

  Angie sighed. Her mother had never gotten over her fallen place in society after a series of botched courtships left her standing against her will at the altar with her present husband. They never spoke of her final, unspecified social transgression that ended her most promising engagement to a society beau. But Mrs. Simmons refused to imagine that her own daughters would not marry up.

  As much as she loved them, the combination of her mother’s blatant pushiness and her father’s indifference to money and affairs of the world had left the girls without many prospects.

  “And I have heard,” Mrs. Simmons’ voice broke through Angie’s thoughts, “That Elmer Farley has finished his studies. Finally! That man has been away at school for five years! My dear cousin Esther and I have been hoping for a union of Angie and Elmer since they were just babies! I’m sure you are excited to see him again, aren’t you, Angie? Remember, you must be certain to refuse his advances at first. It’s the only way to capture a man’s imagination!”

  She had seen to it that her Angie was properly promised to her distant cousin’s son right when they were still children. It was June’s greatest wish that Angie would fulfill her rightful place in New York society—the place that June had lost. She had certainly made a respectable match, marrying the vicar who was to have officiated at her wedding. But even after Harold had been made Rector of the parish in time, June never relinquished her desire for social acceptance and trappings.

  June Simmons loved to advise her daughters on courting practices that to Angie bordered on subterfuge and deception. Plain-spoken like her father, the thought of simpering and pretending not to like a suitor horrified Angie.

  “Mother, I’m sure I will know what to do if the occasion arises.” Angie stood up to flee from the conversation. Once the dishes were done, she could escape her mother’s plans and endless admonishment
in her room reading for the rest of the day.

  Only an hour later, her sister’s running feet pounded down the hall before she broke breathlessly through the door of Angie’s room.

  “You’ll never guess who is here! It’s Elmer Farley, and he’s brought a gentleman from school with him! Angie, come quickly, they’re in the parlor with Father! Oh, look at your dress; can’t you put on something brighter?”

  Nancy ran out towards the voice of her mother calling from her room. “Nancy, the blue one—no, the green! It shows off your eyes much better! Quickly, child, pink up your cheeks…. .”

  Angie closed the door on the voices and leaned against it breathing hard. The strange feeling of her heart beating in her chest disrupted her thoughts. Elmer! Here? Today? Her mother had spoken of him so often, she felt like she should know him. But aside from walking her the short distance home and pulling her braids from the pew behind her, Angie didn’t know what the man named Elmer Farley would be like.

  He would be 22 now, and had studied accounting and done so well he went on to an advanced degree in finance. She knew of his accomplishments and prospects; her mother never failed to detail them. But what sort of man was he now? They had played together as young children, but Angie had never thought of him as more than a friend. Could she love someone she didn’t know?

  More importantly—could he love her?

  Chapter Two

  Angie was 19—nearly 20—and most of the girls in her father’s church were either engaged or already married. Maybe that’s why her friends at Bible study were so close. None of them had been lucky in love so far.

  The sound of footsteps forced Angie away from the door. She sat at her small vanity to brush out her brown hair. She gathered it in back, twisting the length around into a large bun in back. Seeing the plain face looking back at her from the mirror, Angie loosened the bun and instead pulled it to the top of her head, more like the latest fashion. Her thick hair puffed out in a pleasing wreath around her face as she secured the bun on top. She finished by pulling a few strands from in front of her ears to soften her face.

  Most days Angie was satisfied with her plain but acceptable appearance. She was no great beauty, but her brown eyes were a beautiful olive shape that made them seem large and mysterious at the same time. Her nose didn’t turn up the way she supposed men liked, but neither was it crooked or too large. Her complexion was smooth, if not quite as pale as most people’s definition of fine beauty.

  She smiled at herself and noticed immediately the crooked left side where she had a scar from a long-ago fall. Self-conscious about it, she usually gave only a half-smile to avoid anyone noticing that one corner of her mouth didn’t curl up as high as the other.

  Against her better judgment, she pinched her cheeks hard, and watched the blood form a pleasing blush on her skin. Satisfied, she took off her apron and removed her day dress, putting back on the dress she had worn to church that morning. Gathering her strength and with butterflies in her stomach, she turned the knob on her door and started down the stairs.

  “Well, we are delighted to see you again, Elmer—Mr. Farley,” Angie’s mother was saying in her piercing voice. “And you’ve brought a companion, how kind of you.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am. Rector Simmons, Mrs. Simmons, this is Stephen Harkins, my best school chum and soon-to-be partner.”

  “Partner, you say! Well, delighted, I’m sure,” Mrs. Simmons enthused. “Aren’t we, Harold?”

  Angie arrived at the bottom of the steps to see her mother sharply poke her father with her elbow. Unfortunately, the gentlemen callers could see it too.

  “What? Oh yes, delighted, delighted. Ah, here is our Angie, come in, child.”

  Angie froze outside the parlor before Elmer turned to look at her. The sight of his broad back, blonde hair, and fine clothes surprised her. He had changed so much from the skinny, gangly Elmer she remembered.

  His blue eyes twinkled as he came towards her. “Angie. It’s been so long! You look lovely.” She put out her hand and he took it, placing a gentle kiss on the back. Smiling up at him, she remembered her friend of old.

  “Elmer, it’s very nice to see you again.” Angie couldn’t help but smile widely at his familiar face. She saw her mother vigorously shaking her head behind Elmer in an attempt to remind her to act coolly. Despite her mother’s constant coaching, Angie could only be herself.

  “Angie, you are the picture of loveliness. May I present my friend, Stephen Harkins? He has already met your beautiful sister, Nancy and is quite smitten, I believe.”

  “How do you do, Mr. Harkins?” Angie reached her hand toward Elmer’s friend. “You are very welcome in our home.”

  “Miss Simmons, I’ve heard so much about you,” Stephen said with a wink only Angie could see. “It seems my friend Elmer was a little off in describing your beauty. His words cannot compare to what I see before me now.”

  Angie smiled, but the ridiculous compliment irked her. It was this sort of simpering she was not good at and had no use for.

  “I hardly know what to say,” Angie replied truthfully.

  “Wonderful! Wonderful!” Mrs. Simmons interrupted, eager to oversee the courting of her daughters. Now that Elmer had brought a friend, she was determined to push Nancy into the path of such a promising suitor. “Shall we sit down, then? I’d love to hear all about your plans, Elmer. Schooling complete and a partnership in the offing? I hope more than one such partnership, I do sincerely.”

  Angie took her place on the velvet sofa next to Nancy and her mother while the men sat stiffly in horsehair-stuffed chairs. She blushed at her mother’s brazen reference to Elmer’s marriage intentions, but inside she determined to let her prior friendship with him take its course in its own time.

  Elmer and Stephen took turns with Rector Simmons describing their school adventures, difficult studies, burgeoning friendship, and plans to start their own accounting firm. Mr. Simmons nodded solemnly, asking just enough questions to keep the conversation flowing.

  “And how is my good friend, Henry? I’ve heard naught of him for several years,” Elmer said.

  “Henry has taken leave of us for points west,” said Rector Simmons. “He wasn’t cut out for a religious vocation, schooling or a general trade in the city; that boy has an adventure streak a mile wide.” Rector Simmons came to life with affection and admiration for his son.

  “He’s doing wonderfully!” Mrs. Simmons cried. “He owns shares in several gold mines, you know, and has other business interests in Kansas City.”

  “Gold mines? Now if ever a matter was more suited to finance, I haven’t heard of it,” Stephen said, raising an arched eyebrow at Elmer. “You didn’t tell me your old friend had gone into mining.”

  “If ever I could be of service to him in my new capacity, I’d be obliged for you to let him know,” Elmer said to Rector Simmons.

  Nancy looked back and forth in a state of amazement between Elmer and Stephen. Just 17, she had an elegant look that made her appear far more mature than her natural innocence and sweet disposition afforded. Her face was a pale white, and her blonde hair hung in natural ringlets from a clip at the back of her head. Her eyes were a deep ice blue that seemed to captivate every boy that spoke to her. It was much the same with Stephen, who couldn’t stop staring at her.

  Angie smiled politely and asked Elmer about his family. “Do they still live on 45th Street, where they moved after you left for school?”

  “Yes, Angie, they are quite well. My mother has asked after you.”

  At the mention of her cousin Esther, Mrs. Simmons took her opening. “How is my dear Esther, I long to see her! You know, she and I have always believed you two would one day make a fine match.”

  “Mother!” Angie couldn’t help trying to stop her. “Elmer and I can certainly make up our own minds!”

  “Angie, what’s the harm in saying it? Mr. Farley, you have to admit that Angie would make a perfect complement to your new endeavors. A businessman must
entertain, you know, and I have taught Angie all the ways of society…. .”

  “A-HEM!” Rector Simmons stood. The men followed him. “I’m glad for your visit today, Elmer. And it was fine meeting you, Mr. Harkins. Angie, Nancy, would you mind seeing our guests to the door? I’ve a feeling Mrs. Simmons isn’t well.”

  Angie suppressed a giggle at the look on her mother’s face as she stopped talking mid-word with her mouth open. The gentleman shook hands with Rector and Mrs. Simmons and followed Nancy and Angie to the front entranceway.

  Nancy and Stephen chatted quietly and Angie turned to Elmer. “I’m so sorry about my mother, Elmer.”

  He shushed her and took a hand in his. “Angie, I know what she expects. It’s my mother’s wish, too. Looking at you now, there’s just one thing I have to tell you…”

  “Elmer, old chap, save it for a date!” Stephen cut in. “The fellows are waiting at the club. Some good clients are there and we need to make the most of our time.”

  “A date… well, Angie? May I call on you tomorrow afternoon and take you for a ride in the city? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Yes, I would like that,” Angie answered. She looked in his eyes and saw kindness and concern. But was it the look of love? Or something else?

  Chapter Three

  Mrs. Simmons was overjoyed that Elmer would be calling on Angie the following day. The evening meal was nearly insufferable with her prattling on and practically setting a date for Angie’s marriage.

  Angie was glad to have Elmer’s attention, and felt comfortable with him. She tried to envision what she would say if he proposed, and whether to refuse initially, as her mother implored, or to let her true feelings be known.

  If only she knew her true feelings. She had been excited to hear of the gentleman callers, more like startled at their unannounced visit. But now that she had seen and talked to Elmer again, she felt only a neutral sense of friendship, and even duty, toward him. He was her mother’s cousin’s son, and they had been slated for each other. Was it too much to ask that she also felt love for him?