A Groom for Claire Read online

  Claire just lost her husband to a blizzard, and she’ll need a man before spring. With two children to raise, she wants out of the farming community and picks a man who she hopes will take her and her family to civilization.

  Ethan has lived in the city all his life and works as a librarian, but his dream is to be a pioneer farmer. His chance comes when he answers an ad looking for men to come to Nebraska. Though he’d wanted to marry for love, he figures he’ll settle for a mail-order wife if it gets him out of the city.

  What happens when circumstances throw two people together who want to go opposite ways?

  A Groom for Claire

  The Blizzard Brides Book 2

  By

  Patricia PacJac Carroll

  A Groom for Claire The Blizzard Brides Book 2

  Copyright © October 2020

  Author Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Published by PacJac Publishing

  ALL rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, (except for inclusion in reviews), disseminated or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audio. Including photocopying, recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system, or the Internet/World Wide Web without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover Designer: Erin Dameron Hill

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  A Groom for Claire

  The Blizzard Brides Book 2

  By

  Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Chapter 1

  Claire Braden felt as lifeless as the wooden pew. Three months ago, she’d been right here in church listening to the sermon while elbowing her husband in the ribs to stay awake. She’d playfully reminded Thomas, like she did every Sunday, that she was his rib.

  She’d loved him so, but that seemed like eons ago in a different world. Now, he was trapped in a snow-white tomb while she was listening to Celia explain how they would replace their husbands with mail-order grooms.

  Thank goodness, Mary Lee had taken the children outside. Claire couldn’t understand how on earth she was going to explain to Tom Jr. and Leah that she was going to marry a man to replace their father just so they could survive and plant new crops in the spring.

  She bit her lip to keep her tears at bay. Thomas wasn’t just a plow horse to be replaced. He’d been her husband, and she loved him. Her breath caught as she recalled her secret, and the dread that she’d caused this disaster to fall on the whole town. She could tell no one, especially after Pastor Collins had preached that God was angry and had punished them.

  Claire looked around at the widows of Last Chance, Nebraska. A town without men. They’d all, including her husband, been killed in a series of freak blizzards. Make that all except the town drunk and the preacher who suggested some woman should marry him. Claire pitied that gal.

  Quiet had fallen over the congregation of widows, and Claire looked up. In a flash, she remembered everything about Thomas. They’d met at a church social in Briarwood, Ohio. Both had come from farming families. That day, the sky was blue, and the sun bright. In a moment of amazing clarity, Claire had known that Thomas would be her husband. That was the first time she’d had the knowing.

  Heather’s voice brought Claire back to the present. “Pick a letter. We’ve had quite a response so you can select more than one to make a choice on which man you want to marry.”

  “Claire Braden, will you come and choose your letters.”

  Claire braced herself. It all sounded so sterile. As if choosing an unknown man to replace the man you loved was the sanest thing to do under the circumstances. If it were possible, Claire would get up and run away.

  But there was nowhere to go. Nebraska winters weren’t kind, and they were in the grips of one of the hardest. Besides, this was her children’s home and farm, and they didn’t want to leave. She’d mentioned it once, and the look on Tommy Jr.’s face was enough to let her know that leaving wasn’t an option.

  The truth was, there was no escape. Claire didn’t have money to go anywhere and barely had enough to stay and survive. Yet they couldn’t take care of the farm and her children alone. Perhaps if only a few of the men had died, the others would have helped with the farming, but with food being scarce, the men of Last Chance had gone on the hunt and died.

  Still, Claire had a plan and hope. The unspeakable idea that she could tell no one about lest they blame her for the ruin that had befallen them all. Claire would know which letter to choose when she saw the envelopes. Somehow, deep inside her, she knew that the man who was to come and save her would make himself known.

  Oh, she’d voted along with the others as they faced a hard winter on the Nebraskan plains without their men. There had been little choice. A few had the option of going back east to live with families. Neither Claire nor Thomas had relatives back east or anywhere.

  Claire’s name was called again, and she darted a gaze around the room before rising. Asking the Lord for courage, she stood and walked to the table at the front of the church. With shaking hands, she looked over the envelopes. Mostly at the handwriting and the mark to see where they were from.

  James, Andrew, Paul. All strong sounding farming names. Then she saw it. Ethan Freemont. His name sounded educated. His handwriting was exquisite as if it had been written by a man with long fingers and not the clumsy stout hands of a farmer. And like with Thomas, she knew. He was the one.

  She held the letter to her chest and nodded that she’d made her pick.

  Heather stopped her. “You can choose at least two more.”

  “No, this is the one.” For it was the only one that she’d seen written in such fine handwriting. She prayed that he was a man of the city and would come out here only to take her little family back to civilization.

  For that was her dreaded secret. Even before Thomas decided to go on the hunt, Claire had begged him to take them to the city and away from the only life he and her children had ever known.

  Maybe it was her gift, the knowing, that had urged her to plead for him to take them to a city. Thomas just held her and told her they were where they belonged. They were farmers. But Claire knew. She had felt it in her soul that something would happen.

  Years ago, both Claire’s family and Thomas’s family had died, leaving them alone. They’d become orphans even if they had been grown and already in Nebraska. Claire’s family had died of the fever that took so many. Thomas lost his mother and three of his sib
lings to the same fever. His father and youngest brother died from poisoned food. Not that anyone had tried to kill them, but rather their attempt to survive on rotten meat.

  Death. The farm life seemed to be filled with haunting memories of loss. Her Thomas had looked out at the barren land and saw rich earth to plow, and if he looked hard enough, he could tell her of the harvest to come. Claire looked out and saw endless days of back-breaking work followed by cold months where the goal was to survive, but the result was they were always running from death, and Claire was so tired of running.

  She made her way back to the pew she’d been sitting in, and Jenna looked at her. “Did you pick a good one?”

  “I hope so.” Claire attempted a smile. Jenna Babbett was a good friend to her and her family. Poor thing, she’d only been married a short time when the blizzard stole her husband from her. Yet, Jenna kept her smile and hope like a shining beacon. At times, she made Claire feel all the more a failure.

  Claire wanted to be home, in her room, before she read her fate. But this Ethan, he was the one. She didn’t know how or why, but Ethan was her man. She sent up a weak prayer asking the Lord to persuade Ethan to want the city life.

  She glanced outside and saw her children. They were running and playing with the rest. They still had hope, as death’s chill hadn’t stolen the joy of life from them. Claire was glad about that.

  She stared at the floor and shut out the other widows choosing their letters. She thought back to the last time she’d kissed Thomas as he was leaving for the hunting trip. He was going to help save his family and the town from a winter of hunger by hunting buffalo. Their kiss was so tender and touching as if it transcended eternity. She could still feel his lips on hers, but she’d known it was their last kiss. Oh, she’d shoved the idea from her mind and didn’t tell a soul, but she’d known.

  When the men didn’t return, the hard knot in her stomach had turned to stone along with her heart. She’d watched during the long days as her children looked out the window, tears in their eyes, but her tears were already gone. They’d all been cried out in the solitude of her bed during the long lonely nights knowing she’d never feel his hands and lips on her again.

  So too, she knew this Ethan was the man for her. A small ember of excitement vied with the sorrow and gloom that had been her life since Thomas’s leaving. Perhaps soon, this Ethan Freemont would take her and her children from this place.

  Chapter 2

  Ethan Freemont checked in the last of the books for the night. Lovingly, he rubbed the binding and relished the smell. Leather, paper, ink all combined into the loveliest of scents that marked his world. His world of books.

  He stared at the letter on his desk. He’d waited all day before opening the envelope and prayed it held good news. At the same time, he looked around the shelves of books in the library he ruled and wondered if he could leave it all and go west?

  Besides being a librarian, the only other thing Ethan had wanted to do was be a pioneer farmer. He’d read every book he could find about the brave men and women who ventured west to create a new country. Even now, just thinking about it sent a thrill to his core.

  And that brought him to the letter. He’d always thought he’d get married. But the one girl that he’d fallen in love with had died because of a run-away milk wagon. That was ten years ago at the tender age of twenty-four. Ethan’s heart had hurt so much that he refused to consider another woman.

  Until he saw the ad in the paper. A town in Nebraska had lost most of the men to a blizzard, and the women needed men to come and marry them. Ethan had read the account and couldn’t get the idea out of his mind.

  He answered the ad, and this was the first reply to the letter he’d sent. Ethan sat down and read the letter written in the straightforward handwriting of Claire Braden. She welcomed him to come to Nebraska to see if they would be a good match.

  Ethan got the feeling she was keeping him at arm’s length. By the ad in the paper, it had sounded as if the marriage was guaranteed. But then, he could understand her being hesitant to agree to marry someone before meeting them.

  He sat back in his chair and wondered what she’d be like. She hadn’t written anything about how she looked. She was the same age as he, and she had a son that was twelve years old and a daughter who was eight.

  “Nice family.” Ethan closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like to have a family and a farm. He’d read books on farming, but he’d never planted a seed. He was a fast learner, though. The boy ought to know a lot about how to farm, and Ethan figured he had the money to hire some help to see them through when the time to plant came. Despite being a librarian, Ethan was a strong man with a tidy sum from an inheritance.

  This opportunity was an answer to his prayers. Hurriedly, he replied to her letter and said he’d be on the next train west as soon as he got his affair in order. He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to get to Last Chance, Nebraska, but he’d get there as quickly as possible.

  ***

  Claire took the envelope from the box and admired the same fine handwriting that had caused her to choose Ethan. The children were in school, so she made use of her time and hurried to the café and ordered a coffee.

  The cold air grieved her heart as it reminded her of Thomas and how he’d died. They couldn’t even have a proper burial until the snow melted, and that could be months before the huge banks of white would thaw.

  She saw Jenna at a table in the corner, but Claire didn’t feel like socializing. And by the looks on Jenna’s face, she didn’t either. Alone, Claire opened the envelope. She took out the letter and admired his handwriting.

  Ethan’s first letter hadn’t said much. Claire looked around. Was it proper for her to think of him by his first name already? Yet, in her mind, he would be taking over where Thomas had left off. His replacement, if you will.

  Anyway, Ethan had given her a brief description as if he were advertising to be sold like livestock. Claire rested her arm on the table and looked outside. Ethan Freemont was thirty-four years old, never married. He was a strong man with light brown hair and blue eyes. That currently, he worked as the librarian’s assistant in the St. Louis Library. He had a reasonable sum of money that would help them out and looked forward to meeting them. He’d gone on a bit about how he enjoyed books and had read many about farming.

  Claire looked at the new letter in her hand and started reading.

  Dear Claire,

  I hope it’s all right to call you by your first name, but just so you know, I will adhere to the rules you are comfortable with. I’ve been reading up about the latest in farming techniques and hope to make your farm quite profitable.

  As I said in the first letter, I do have some money. If there is anything you and your children would like me to get for you, let me know, and I will bring the goods with me.

  I am looking forward to meeting you and your children. I hope we will all get along well and unite as a family.

  Sincerely yours,

  Ethan Freemont

  Claire neatly folded the note and tucked it in the envelope. Ethan sounded cheery enough. However, she wasn’t at all sure he would find any joy in Last Chance. Leah still cried herself to sleep at night while Tommy burst into fits of anger. Claire comforted them the best she could, but at various times, she found herself exhibiting both of her children’s behavior.

  Just the other day, Claire had talked harshly to Jenna. Something she would have never done before. It would seem that more than Thomas had died that day in September. The woman Claire used to be no longer existed.

  Life had been hard but joyful, but now, it was mere existence. If she had money, she’d gather her children and run to the nearest city of substance. Chicago maybe. Somewhere that she could be warm in the winter and not work from dark to dark. But then, perhaps that place didn’t exist.

  She flicked the envelope and chuckled sarcastically. Maybe Ethan, her librarian, would know of where she could go to escape such hard
ship. Claire stared out the window at the bleak, white landscape. Perhaps it was really life that she wanted to escape.

  Tom would have never approved of such thinking and would have scolded her soundly, but with him, she never felt hopeless. Oh, life was hard, but in between the difficult days were sprinkled the joys of love.

  Thomas had spoiled her. At least as best as a farmer could. The children were wonderful and made her heart smile. Some of the widows were moving on and already smiling and talking of the future. They were even excited about meeting their grooms.

  Not Claire. She had agreed to marry Ethan Freemont, but that was it. She would cook his meals and mend his clothes and be polite. She’d even do her wifely duties, but love? Claire was afraid that had all been used up on Thomas.

  The door to the café opened and let in a blast of chilled air. Claire shivered. Whether from the snow or because of the woman she’d become, she wasn’t sure. She picked up the envelope. “I hope you’re a patient man, Ethan Freemont.”

  Chapter 3

  Ethan had received Claire’s letter just the other day, and in it, she’d added a few modest items that she and the children could use. Thrifty woman. He set about thinking what would be useful and fun for children on the plains.

  A horse for each one. Food for sure. A doll for the girl. Perhaps a new rifle for the boy. At twelve, Thomas Jr. was almost a man. Clothes for all of them would be a useful contribution. Of course, he would bring a supply of books for his family and to share with all those in Last Chance.

  Ethan figured he could make the beginnings of a small library to help the school children as well as give the farmers and their families something to do during the long winter. By his figuring, Ethan would need two wagons. That meant he’d have to hire a driver for one.