A Bride for Dwight Read online

  A Bride for Dwight

  The Proxy Brides Book #39

  Linda Ellen

  A Bride for Dwight

  The Proxy Brides Series, Book 39

  Written by Linda Ellen

  Copyright © 2020 by Linda Ellen

  Trade Paperback Release: April 2020

  Electronic Release: April 2020

  http://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Although this book is a work of fiction, real locales, streets, and places were used. Brands are used respectfully. Details regarding the cities of Louisville, Kentucky and Brownville, Nebraska, in 1883 were taken from websites, information learned in person, photographs, and other information found online, such as Facebook groups.

  The following story contains themes of real life, but is suitable for all ages, as it contains no illicit sex or profanity.

  Cover design by Virginia McKevitt

  http://www.virginiamckevitt.com

  Editing by Venessa Vargas

  Proofreading by Kathryn Lockwood

  Formatting by Christine Sterling

  A Bride for Dwight

  Mary Robinson is in deep trouble. At the end of her rope and with no place to go, she begs Doc Reeves for help, and he comes up with an outrageous plan—find a fella and get married by proxy. Dwight, the brother of her best friend, steps in to fill the bill. Everything will be fine as long as Dwight keeps up his end of the bargain and stays away. No one will know the truth.

  However, her proxy groom, Dwight Christiansen, soon finds himself in some hot water of his own back home in Louisville. A rich, young girl has designs on him and won’t take NO for an answer. Resorting to making up lies about him, she winds up costing him his job. Things escalate to an overwhelming degree and Dwight feels he has no other recourse than to go back on his word and join his wife in Brownville—for a while at least. Surely, she’ll be glad to see him…right?

  Wrong.

  Having her absentee proxy husband in town causes all kinds of trouble for Mary.

  She wishes she could send him back where he came from…if only he wasn’t so darn handsome, funny, sweet, kind, and everything a girl could want in a beau.

  The problem is—once their agreement is over, he’ll be gone. She simply can’t let down her guard and fall in love with him!

  At the end of his first day in town, Mary’s heart is already standing at love’s door.

  Oh, heaven help me! What have I gotten myself into?

  This is a clean, inspirational romance. The story contains themes of real life, but is suitable for all ages, as it contains no illicit sex or profanity.

  Reviews for A Bride for Dwight

  Utterly exceptional writing by Linda Ellen! With this extraordinary approach to romance, we find within the warm hearts of her well-crafted characters the spirit of unconditional love.

  I loved the depth of Mary’s inner beauty and her ability to weather her tragedies with grace, strength and unfailing sincerity. And Dwight’s unquestioning morality and chivalry as he threw himself into an uncertain situation simply to help a person in need was captivating to read.

  This, laced with the mystery of an unknown outsider stalking our wonderful town of Brownville had me spun up in every word! Not to mention, the greatest treat of all, getting to revisit with my most cherished characters from books past.

  A Bride for Dwight is a truly surprising and memorable read from its astounding start to its heartwarming end.

  ~Venessa Vargas, Editor and Author

  Another great one from Linda! The reason behind the proxy wedding in A Bride for Dwight and how it played out is so different, which I found very refreshing. I like the “don’t judge others” feel to this story. It’s the story of Mary, a woman who finds herself in dire straits and a fatherly man determined to protect her at all costs. He promises to help her, but knowing how closed minded the town can be, he’s aware it may have to be by less than honest means. Add Dwight, a young man who needs to escape his own horrors and you have a marriage of convenience. But dishonesty is not in Mary’s nature and the fear of the truth coming out weighs on her constantly. And how will Dwight react when he finds out the whole truth? It’s a story of romance but also family and faith. Lots of excitement and laughter as well.

  ~Judy Glenn, Beta Reader

  This wonderful story couldn’t have come at a better time. I can’t think of a better way to deal with the current events of being self-quarantined than to get lost in Dwight and Mary’s story, and Linda’s superb way of spinning a tale allows you to do just that. If only for a while, reality fades away, as Dwight, Mary, and the now familiar town of Brownville come into focus. Soon you’re right beside earthy, relatable characters, enjoying a mix of romance and mystery. We look on as Dwight and Mary weather life’s storms, wondering if they’ll be able to ride them out together, all the while trying to puzzle out the identity of the mysterious person who has taken to stalking the town… Ah, yes, you couldn’t ask for a better story to escape headlong into.

  ~Liz Austin, Poet, Blogger, Pre-Reader

  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 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Author Notes

  Acknowledgements

  The Proxy Bride Books

  About the Author

  Other works by Linda Ellen

  Chapter 1

  July 1883

  Brownville, Nebraska

  M ary Robinson avoided the stares from the patrons as she struggled to carry a heavily laden serving tray across the dining room of Huber’s Restaurant.

  Holding her breath as she maneuvered between two tables, she worked valiantly to keep her recently sensitive nose from being assaulted by the various aromas emanating from steaming plates of fresh-caught river catfish slathered in pungent tartar sauce, fried cornbread seasoned generously with onions, and zesty coleslaw. It was Huber’s most popular meal.

  What’s the matter with you, Mary Amelia? You love Bernie’s fried catfish…and you’ve carried dinner trays dozens of times, she sternly admonished herself as she pondered the fact that she was gagging from the smells and the tray felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

  On top of all of that, every time she turned around, it seemed as if she were on the verge of tears—what was that all about?

  Managing to reach the customer’s table, to which she’d been headed, near the outer door, Mary bent to slide the tray onto the polished wood surface before lifting an unsteady hand to draw the back of her wrist across her suddenly sweaty forehead. With her lips and teeth clamped shut, she sucked in a shaky breath through her nostrils, immediately regretting the action as the overpowering scent of the fish came close to triggering the response she’d been trying so hard to stave off.

  With a squeak, she quickly clapped both hands over her mouth and stood straight up while turning her back to the table just as black spots darkened her vision. Staggering a few steps forward, she felt hands reach o
ut to steady her as a voice asked, “Whoa there, Mary. Are you all right?” It was as if it had come from a deep, dark tunnel.

  Unable to utter a sound for several seconds, she stood unmoving until her surroundings finally began to come back into focus and the nausea thankfully began to subside. Hesitantly, she lowered her trembling hands and managed a tentative smile for her solicitous boss, Bernard Huber.

  “I think so,” she whispered as she allowed a few more seconds to tick by. “Whew,” she finally let out a breathy laugh as she pressed one hand to her throat and wrapped her other arm around her belly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

  He placed a finger under her chin and gently tipped her face toward him as he eyed her features critically. “You look kind of flushed. Maybe you better go see Doc Reeves. Your leg got all healed up, didn’t it?”

  She managed a nod and smoothed her dark hair back off her damp forehead. “Yes, he says my leg is fit as a fiddle now.”

  Bernie glanced around at the nearly empty restaurant, and seeing that most of the diners had finished and left, he looked back at Mary with a fatherly smile. “Why don’t you go sit out on the back porch and get some fresh air? Rest for a few minutes. Put your feet up.” Drawing his watch from its pocket, he took a quick peek at the time and added, “No need to start helping with the cleanup just yet.”

  Taking in a careful breath through her mouth, Mary sent her boss a small, but appreciative smile. “Putting my feet up sounds heavenly. I think I’ll do that.”

  Slowly, she made her way through the hot kitchen, rife with all sorts of normally delicious aromas that had somehow turned rancid to her unexpectedly sensitive palate. Carefully making it to the porch and the glider that Bernie kept there for his employees to relax and take their breaks, Mary gratefully wilted down onto the seat and raised her feet up on a nearby crate. With a sigh, she allowed her head to fall back onto the glider’s curved top edge, closed her eyes, and willed her body to relax. Immediately, however, thoughts and fears began to crowd in.

  What’s wrong with me? Is my corset too tight? Answering herself, she reached up to try and adjust the top of it. I hate the stupid thing…but it doesn’t feel too tight. I’ve never been the type to get the vapors. Maybe there is something wrong… She raised a hand and felt her own forehead, then touched the backs of her fingers to her cheek. I don’t feel like I have a fever and my leg don’t hurt anymore. But, why am I so dog-tired all the time, and the least little thing makes me feel as if I’m on the back of a steamboat in rough waters…

  An idea of what the malady might be entered her mind, but she quickly pushed it away. No, it can’t be that. Absolutely not. Surely God wouldn’t make me go through that…would He? I mean…I’ve got a nice life here now. I’ve got friends. I’m happy here. If it’s…that…I’ll have to leave. There’s no way I’d be able to stay… Mary shook her head back and forth in a silent argument. No….no no no… Please God, no…

  Determined to turn her thoughts away from the conclusion that was forcing its way to the surface, she curled her body to the side and took several deep, relaxing breaths.

  Before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

  The next morning, Mary looked up at the kindly face of Doc Reeves as he dried his hands after washing them in a bowl next to the examining table. He blessed her with an encouraging smile.

  “You can get dressed now, Mary. Come out to my desk when you’re finished.”

  She gave him a hesitant nod and waited until he had gone out and closed the curtain behind him before stepping down from the table, her fingers fumbling as she tried to hasten her dressing.

  When she was finally presentable again, she slipped through the brown curtains separating the small examination area from the rest of the office and smoothed her hair back from her face. Taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk, she tried to make herself comfortable.

  The doctor was busy writing in what she assumed was her file, so she trained her attention on the window just beyond his chair. She watched passersby on their wagons and an occasional horse, and tried not to allow herself to fret over what he might say. Eventually, he glanced up and sent her a reassuring, but somewhat sympathetic smile.

  Sympathy? Her stomach dropped as dread took hold. Oh, no…

  “Mary…” he began, pausing as he bent his head to catch her attention because her eyes were darting around the room in a panic. In truth, she wanted to get up from that chair and run as fast and as far away as she could so that she wouldn’t have to hear his diagnosis—but she forced herself to sit still. Unconsciously, her fingers began to pick at the edges of her reticule where it lay in her lap.

  “I think you probably have an idea what is happening to you…am I right?” He asked in a gentle tone. She did, but she was hoping and praying she was wrong. He waited while she merely stared at him, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed, with her heart racing so fast it had set up a buzzing in her ears. Please don’t be that…please…please…

  “I gave you a thorough examination and…I’m certain that the cause of your fatigue and sudden aversion to food is that…you’re enceinte.” He saw her confusion at the unfamiliar word and rushed to clarify, “In the family way. About two months, near as I can tell.”

  “No…” she moaned aloud, the weight of the news pressing down on her shoulders and chest with near suffocating force. The air whooshed from her lungs under the sheer magnitude of it as tears sprang to her eyes. “NO!!” She erupted, shaking her head before her hands came up to hide her face, achingly ashamed by the merciful look in the doctor’s eyes. What must he think of her?

  The gentle, older man smiled understandingly and handed her a clean handkerchief, watching silently as she dabbed her eyes and nose.

  “I don’t mean to presume, my dear, but…the father…was it the man who attacked you…the outlaw, Washington Hobbs?”

  Shame was washing over her in ocean-sized waves. A fresh gush of tears flooded her eyes at his mention of the hateful man and she lowered her eyes, but managed a nod.

  At that, he got up from his chair and circled the desk, perched on the corner, and leaned down to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. “There, there, child. This is not the end of the world, I assure you.”

  A white-hot surge of anger unexpectedly flared to life like a match struck on stone and she glared up into his benevolent countenance.

  “That’s easy for you to say! You’re a man! You’re not a girl in the family way with no family, and gotten that way by a…a…lying, thieving, filthy…cur!” A shiver reverberated down her spine and she pressed the hanky against her mouth, mumbling around it, “Just the thought of him disgusts me. And it…it was only one time!” She peered up at him and shook her head. “I can’t…I can’t be having his baby!” she gasped the last word as the realization swept over her again with the force of a locomotive under full steam.

  The doctor drew another chair close and reached for her free hand, holding it comfortingly against his chest and patting it in an effort to calm her down. That he was so concerned about her reaction alleviated a tiny bit of her angst, but not all.

  “Often it only takes one time for the womb to quicken,” he explained. “But then, some women try for years and never experience the miracle of increasing.” Moving his head slowly to-and-fro with a sincere smile, he added, “Such are the mysteries of life, my dear. In a way, you’re one of the lucky ones.”

  At the gentle words, Mary drooped back against the chair, her anger cooling as quickly as it had heated. From her point of view, however, her future looked anything but lucky. Woebegone would be a better adjective, and one that her friend, Pauline, had put on a recent spelling test in their ongoing, private lessons.

  One straggling tear emerged and rolled down her cheek as her head slowly oscillated from side to side while she stared straight ahead and out through the window behind the doctor’s desk. The bright blue sky and calm day faded away as she remembered the day
after her first night in town. She’d felt so insulted and upset when the church ladies had come to see her. Their questions and looks had made her feel dirty, like a soiled dove. She could just imagine the smug looks they’d get when they heard this news.

  Turning her head toward the tenderhearted doctor, she took in the ginger blond hair tinged with just a touch of gray at his temples. The matching reddish eyebrows over empathetic gray eyes, gazed at her without censure through sparkling wire-rimmed glasses. His face was clean shaven with pleasant wrinkles that had come from a lifetime of smiling as he cared for others and tended to the sick.

  Since that first awful night when Deputy Tobias had responded to her screams and carried her into the small hotel adjacent to where she’d been attacked out on the street and they had sent someone to fetch the doctor for her knife wound, Doc Reeves had been nothing but nice to her. Although she had been what amounted to a half-starved orphan wearing boy’s clothing and sporting a chip on her shoulder the size of the whole state of Nebraska, Doc Reeves had consistently been caring, professional, and non-judgmental.

  Searching his eyes now for signs of disgust, she saw nothing but compassion. A few bricks loosened in the wall she had built around her heart.

  “What is it, child?” he asked softly, seemingly allowing her time to marshal her feelings and organize her thoughts. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment, she suddenly felt an urgent need to make the benevolent physician understand.

  “Folks will say they were right about me, Doc,” she began hesitantly. “They…they’d already pegged me as a girl of easy virtue when I came into town that night—dressed in my brother’s clothes—and let that…jackanapes knock me down, slice my leg with that hog sticker, and steal my money.”

  She paused as tears came to her eyes and her lips trembled, “Oh Doc…I swear on my mama’s grave, no man had ever touched me…why, if any had tried, my papa and my brother would have lashed them to a paddlewheel and left them there ‘till they were one splash away from the pearly gates. So…after he’d lied to me and…did what he did, I was so ashamed. But I was mad, too. I was mad at him, mad at myself. Then he went and told those lies about me and that made me even madder. It’s just that…the ladies who came that next day to bring me clothes and such…they took one look at me and found me wanting…they didn’t seem to want to—”