The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (45 page)

He glanced at the Greenfields and then back to the ladies. “My decision hasn’t been an easy one to make, but I feel God directed my path to Belle Prairie to find my wife—and I’m happy to say I’ve found her.”

The ladies moved restlessly beside Sarah as they all watched him carefully. Who would he choose? She prayed it was Mary.

He took two steps and stood in front of Sarah. “I’ve decided to ask Miss Ellis to be my bride—if she’ll have me.”

The other three ladies murmured their congratulations, but Sarah shook her head. “You can’t—my father—”

Luke took her hands in his. “I don’t care how long I have to wait, Sarah. My life will never be the same now that I’ve met you. I can’t even think about returning to Red Lake without you by my side. If they won’t have me, then we’ll go somewhere else.” He smiled, and his blue eyes radiated a love she never imagined possible.

“I can’t let you do this, Luke.”

“Yes, you can, because you love me too much to see me miserable for the rest of my life.” He tried to laugh at his joke, but she could see the seriousness in his gaze. “Without you, that’s exactly what I would be—no matter where I am.”

Mr. Beaumont’s smile lit up the room as he clapped Luke on the back. “Congratulations.”

Mary reached out and hugged Sarah. “I’m so happy for you.”

“But my father—” Sarah tried again, her eyes on Luke.

“I’ll wait here as long as it takes—and when he gets here, I’ll do whatever I can to convince him to let me marry you.”

“You won’t have to wait long.” Mr. Greenfield looked out the window. “It appears a rider is coming up the road now.”

Sarah looked at Luke, not sure if she should feel excitement or dread. Together they stepped out of the room and went to the porch. As the rider came closer, she recognized his tall form.

Father had come.

Luke took her hand in his. “Do you think he’ll give us his blessing?”

Sarah wished she could offer him reassurance, but as Father drew closer, the look on his face told Sarah he wouldn’t be easy on her.

Her heart pounded against her chest as Father dismounted his horse. He stood as tall as she remembered, with a large chest and broad shoulders. He wore a graying handlebar mustache and had piercing green eyes.

One of the students met him and offered to take care of his horse. Father barely nodded to the boy as he handed the reins over, his eyes intent on Sarah.

She let go of Luke’s hand and took a step off the porch to meet her father in the yard.

“Hello, Father.”

Father’s eyes sparked with anger. “How could you do this, Sarah? Do you know how inconvenient this trip was? If you had stayed where you belong—”

“I belong here.”

“Don’t be impertinent.” His words lashed out, and she jumped. “You’ve been careless and irresponsible yet again. As soon as you have your things together, we’re leaving. We’ll waste no time in returning to Connecticut.”

“And what will I return to?” she asked, desperation making her voice tight.

The front door opened and Father glanced up at the house. Sarah looked toward the porch, where everyone had gathered. Luke stood at the front of the crowd.

Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield left the others and joined Sarah and her father in the yard. “Welcome to Belle Prairie, Mr. Ellis.” Mr. Greenfield extended his hand.

For a moment, Sarah feared Father wouldn’t shake his hand, but then he did.

“I’m Silas Greenfield, and this is my wife, Agnes. We’re the directors of the Belle Prairie Mission. Would you like to come inside to refresh yourself?”

Father removed his riding gloves. “I’ll come inside and wait while Sarah gathers her things, and then we’ll be on our way.”

The Greenfields led Father to the house with Sarah close behind.

Hazel, Mary, and Genevieve stood off to the side.

Mary offered a reassuring smile as Sarah passed by. No matter what happened, at least Mary would stay a true friend. Hazel’s eyes revealed her disapproval, while Genevieve’s face remained unreadable.

The Greenfields showed Father into the parlor.

If he thought the placement of the chairs strange, he didn’t say a word.

Luke entered the room behind Sarah, but all the others stayed outside.

“What are you doing?” Father asked Sarah. “I want you to gather your things.”

“I’d like to speak to you, Father.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. We’re leaving here as soon as possible.”

“I would like to introduce you to someone.” She looked at Luke, and his presence gave her the strength to continue. “This is Mr. Luke Longley.”

Father had the social grace to shake hands with Luke, but his eyes soon returned to Sarah.

“Mr. Longley has asked me to be his bride.”

“His bride?” Father turned his startled eyes back to Luke.

“I apologize about the way you’ve had to learn the news,” Luke said. “We wanted to wait until we had your blessing.”

“I suppose you’re a missionary, too.” Father crossed his arms as he examined Luke.

“I am. I serve at the Red Lake Mission, a hundred and fifty miles north of here.”

Father looked to Sarah, and she saw something in the depths of his eyes that she’d never seen before. It was a mixture of tenderness… and love. The sudden shift in his emotions must have surprised him, too, because he cleared his throat. “Do you love him, Sarah?”

Sarah’s gaze rested on Luke, and he offered her the faintest smile. “I do love him.”

Father looked at the Greenfields, his face intense. “Is he a good man?”

Mr. Greenfield nodded. “The very best.”

Father sighed, and his shoulders loosened. “Then I suppose I can’t say no.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Just like that?”

“What?” Father lifted his hands. “Do you want me to put up a fight? I knew this day would come sooner or later.”

“But—you’ve come all this way.”

He took off his hat and smoothed down his graying hair, trying to hide his feelings. “The trip isn’t wasted. Now I can witness your marriage vows.”

Sarah’s frown etched into her forehead as she stared at him.

He lifted his gaze, and his eyes looked vulnerable—almost scared. “I came to take you home because the frontier is no place for an unmarried woman.” He reached out and lightly knuckled her chin. “I didn’t come to take you away from your calling, Sarah.”

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. “Truly?”

His own eyes grew a bit glossy, and he cleared his throat again. “When I heard you came west, I finally opened the Bible to see what could entice you away from your comfortable life back east.” He looked at her as if he still didn’t quite understand, but he was trying. “I read all about the life of a man named Paul, and what he sacrificed to spread the message of Christ. For the first time, I started to comprehend your passion.”

Sarah crossed the distance and wrapped her arms around him, not caring what he thought.

He hugged her back but quickly pulled away, his voice a bit gruff. “Don’t you have a wedding to attend?”

Sarah wiped at her cheeks and laughed.

Luke stood a few feet away, a smile on his face.

“Shall we call the others in for the ceremony?” Mr. Greenfield asked.

“It all depends.” Luke stepped closer to Sarah and took her hand in his. “Miss Ellis hasn’t agreed to marry me yet.”

Sarah grinned, unable to contain the joy in her heart. “I would be honored.”

Luke lifted her hand to his lips and winked at her. “I knew everything would turn out just fine.”

“Always the optimist,” she teased.

“Maybe not always, but I’m learning.”

The ceremony was a short affair, with Mary and Mr. Beaumont standing as witnesses, though the pair spent more time looking at each other than they did the bride and groom.

After the vows were exchanged, Mr. Greenfield closed his Bible, a knowing smile on his face. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Luke took Sarah into his arms and placed a tender kiss on her lips. When he pulled back and gazed upon her, it was as if they were alone in the room. “I love you, Sarah Longley, and I’m committed to loving you every day, for the rest of my life.”

Tears of happiness gathered in her eyes.

A week ago, she had dreaded the idea of becoming Luke’s bride. Now, as she stood hand in hand with her new husband, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

Gabrielle Meyer lives in central Minnesota on the banks of the Mississippi River with her husband and four young children. As an employee of the Minnesota Historical Society, she fell in love with the rich history of her state and enjoys writing fictional stories inspired by real people and events. Gabrielle can be found at
www.gabriellemeyer.com
where she writes about her passion for history, Minnesota, and her faith.

The Most Ineligible Bachelor in Town

by Connie Stevens

Dedication

To John
My quiet hero. I’m so blessed to be loved by a godly man.

Chapter 1

Whitley, Kansas
1885

M
icah North stared at his reflection in the stage depot’s window glass. He forced a smile and cleared his throat. “Good morning, Gabrielle. You’re looking especially lovely today.” No, it was all wrong. The feigned confidence in his voice sounded brittle, even to him.

The corners of his mouth drooped. Would she be offended if he called her Gabrielle? Most everyone in town called her Gabby, but Micah had always felt her given name too beautiful to shorten.

He shook his head. If only speaking directly to Gabrielle were as easy as talking to his reflection. Every shred of composure he possessed fled when Gabrielle Lockridge stood before him.

He heaved a sigh. The outgoing mailbag still waited on the desk, and he had two telegrams to deliver. Yet here he stood, talking to himself and pretending he could maintain some semblance of dignity in Gabrielle’s presence. He glanced at the clock. The ten o’clock stage was already nearly a half hour late. But his postmaster/telegrapher duties could wait for one more minute. Despite the fact he had known her since childhood, perhaps he should try being more formal, since she was the preacher’s daughter and all. He straightened his tie and assumed a courtly pose.

“Good morning, Miss Lockridge.”

“Good morning, Micah.”

Micah choked and spun toward the door. Gabrielle Lockridge stood at the counter. His eyes widened and heat flooded his face.

Sun streamed in the doorway, bathing her in its glow. Her honey-brown eyes softened into a smile that weakened his knees. Did she have any idea how her presence robbed him of his good sense? She held up an envelope. “Papa asked me to mail this. Is it too late to get it into today’s mail?”

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, but he couldn’t back down now. All he had to do was force those same words he’d been rehearsing past his lips. He swallowed around the knot in his throat. “N–no.”
Don’t stammer! And stop sweating.
“M–Miss Lockridge, you—you’re, uh, not too late….” He ducked his head as the muttered words stumbled over his teeth.

She cocked her head. “Micah, we’ve known each other since the fourth grade. I don’t think it improper to call me Gabby.”

The heat rising up his neck intensified, and his mouth opened and closed like a guppy. The invitation to address her in a more familiar way should please him. Instead, he was struck dumb.

Say something, you fool. She’s going to think you’re…
He didn’t want to hazard a
guess at what she thought. He crossed to the counter, stubbed his toe on the stool, and knocked the outgoing mail pouch off the desk. As he bent to retrieve the bag, pounding hoofbeats and jingling harnesses announced the late arrival of the stage.

Gabrielle turned toward the door. “Oh, good. The stage is late again.” She laughed—music to put songbirds to shame. “I suppose that’s a rather silly thing to say. But Papa will be happy his letter—”

Micah sucked in a breath. “Uh, uhh… right.” His hand snaked out and snatched the envelope from Gabrielle’s grasp. “Outgoing—not too late… oh, the mail.” He grabbed the mailbag, stuffed Reverend Lockridge’s letter inside, and rushed out the door. The stage halted in a cloud of dust.

Micah tossed the bag of outgoing mail to the driver. “Mornin’, Hank. You’re late again.”

Hank deftly caught the pouch. “Hiya, Micah.”

Micah caught a glimpse of Gabrielle from the corner of his eye as she exited the depot and stood, studying him with a perplexed expression. He should apologize for his rudeness, for his inability to string coherent words into a sentence in her presence.

Hank jerked his thumb toward the stage. “Got a passenger for ya today. This here feller says he knows you.”

The coach door opened. “Micah! Hello, Cousin.”

The vaguely familiar voice pulled Micah’s attention away from Gabrielle. When he connected with the ice-blue eyes and smirking grin, his eyebrows rose. “Rod? Well, I vow and declare, how long has it been?” He reached to clasp his cousin’s hand.

Rod gripped Micah’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder. “At least nine or ten years. You were still in knee pants.” He laughed. “You followed me around like my shadow. Thought I’d never get shed of you.”