Avalee Exchanges Her Fiancé Read online

  Avalee Exchanges her Fiancé

  Mismatch Mail-order Bride Series, Book 3

  Copyright © 2019 by Linda K. Hubalek

  Published by Butterfield Books Inc.

  Printed Book ISBN—978-1096004387

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019905228

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Except for the history of Kansas mentioned in the book, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A sweet historical romance set in 1892.

  It’s 1892, almost twenty years after the first mail-order brides found love in Clear Creek, Kansas in the Brides with Grit Series.

  The older members of the Clear Creek church women’s group, informally known as the Peashooter Society, decide to help the unattached women in town obtain husbands because there are more women in town than men.

  Avalee Paulson, the third daughter in the Brides with Grit series book, Helen Heals a Hotelier, is Dr. Pansy Reagan’s physician’s assistant. She’s independent and determined not to have bad luck in love as her mother did.

  The Peashooter Society decides Avalee needs a husband to complete her life, even if she’s happy with her friends and work. Avalee pretends she has a fiancé to ward off their attempts at matchmaking, and a man who’s been giving her unwanted attention.

  Gordon Miller, along with his two brothers and their three friends, left New York City on an orphan train when he was seven years old. Now mustered out of the army, the group get the chance to live and work together in a small community, thanks to the plan of the Peashooter Society.

  Gordon’s appointed job is to work with the Taylors, an older couple, as they try to decide to scale down or retire from their mercantile store. Not only does this frustrate Gordon, but it also makes him question if he wants to stay in town or venture out on his own. The thing that keeps Gordon in Clear Creek though is Avalee Paulson, the doctor’s assistant who is fighting off the attention of an unwanted suitor.

  Gordon offers to be Avalee’s fiancé to get the man to leave Avalee alone, but then feelings develop between the couple.

  Sound complicated? Maybe. A little drama? Definitely!

  Chapter 1

  Fall 1892

  Clear Creek, Kansas

  I feel like I’m walking down Main Street at high noon for a gunfight.

  Gordon Miller thought as he marched beside his older brother, Barton.

  Well, not a gunfight in a dusty, forsaken frontier town. Overall, the two-block business district of the Kansas town was in good shape.

  But they had a purpose as they followed the downtown boardwalk toward their destination, the church parsonage, where their fate rested in the hands of Mrs. Kaitlyn Reagan, the minister’s wife.

  Only instead of a gunslinger, they were going to face a tougher foe. A woman with an agenda.

  He glanced back at his younger brother, Squires. All three of them pretty much matched each other with their brown hair, brown eyes, and six-foot height. But Barton was the leader, Gordon was the mediator, and Squires was just along for the ride with his laid-back personality.

  Following close behind were their three childhood friends, who couldn’t be more different than if they came from different planets. Wesley Preston, with light blonde hair, Peter Gehring, with coal black hair, and Tobin Billings, with flaming red hair.

  Barton promised the others they would always stick together when they left New York on the orphan train. Even though Barton was only ten years old at the time, it helped Gordon and Squires, and the other three boys, to face the uncertainty of their lives.

  Through his older brother’s insistence, they managed to all end up in the same farming community in Shawnee County, Kansas, even if they lived in different households. Attending the same church kept them connected through their youth.

  When Squires and Peter turned eighteen, they signed up together for a five-year commitment at nearby Fort Riley to learn new skills. Gordon mainly worked on keeping supplies ordered for the fort. He hoped he could find a similar job here in this very town.

  As adults, the six vowed to stay together, thus the reason they were in Clear Creek, Kansas.

  “I sure hope this Mrs. Reagan is nice. I didn’t care for her son,” Tobin piped up from the back of the line. Tobin had always been talkative, expressing his opinions out loud.

  “Tobin, please keep your voice down and your opinions to yourself. All our livelihoods are on the line with our first impression,” Barton quietly reminded him as he walked backward for a second.

  With that remark, Barton stumbled into a young woman as she stepped out of a storefront.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss,” Barton exclaimed as he caught her by the elbows, so she didn’t fall backward.

  “Are you all right?” Gordon asked when Barton didn’t say anything else.

  “Yes, thank you. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Either,” the woman added a subtle jab at Barton’s misstep.

  She had on a scratched, thin leather work apron much like a shoe repairman might wear. Gordon wondered what she did for a living in this little town.

  “My apologies, Ma’am,” Barton said, with a touch to the brim of his hat with his right hand as he picked up his carpet bag he’d dropped to catch the woman.

  She nodded with a smile, then continued across the boardwalk, looking both ways before crossing the street.

  “I wonder if she’s one of our brides,” Tobin sighed as all six of them stood still, watching her until she ducked into the door of the dress shop.

  “Come on, keep walking,” Barton commanded, but they all glanced back again before moving on.

  But Gordon wasn’t sure if this coming to town unannounced was the right decision. Last week, the six of them had been on a train when it had been robbed. Forced off the train to walk back to the previous town’s depot, they picked up letters that had been blown out of the mail car when the safe had been blasted open. Barton happened to pick up a torn letter, pieced it together, only to realize it was an advertisement that was to be featured in the Kansas City Star newspaper.

  Gordon had memorized the words and thought of them again.

  Opportunity for six single men, under age thirty, to make their permanent home in Clear Creek, Kansas. If chosen, each man would receive employment, housing, and a wife.

  Could that young woman who Barton just ran into be one of the six candidates?

  At the end of the block, they angled across the street to arrive at the wooden house between the school and the church. All three buildings were painted white and in good shape, as was the part of town they’d seen so far.

  When they arrived at the parsonage, Barton stepped up on the porch and knocked on the front door. Gordon and the rest stood in a straight line behind him, ready for the woman’s inspection.

  “Yes, may I help you?” the woman asked as she opened the door. She was probably in her fifties by the look of her fading red hair and fine lines around her pleasant smile.

  “Are you Mrs. Kaitlyn Reagan, Ma’am?” Barton asked, as he took his hat off and slightly bowed to her.

  Gordon
noticed she sized up Barton with a curious stare, then looked at the five of them behind Barton.

  “Yes, and you are?” the woman waited for an introduction.

  “I’m Barton Miller, and these are my brothers, Gordon and Squires.” Barton waited as each took a turn stepping up and back. “And these are our friends, Peter Gehring, Wesley Preston, and Tobin Billings.”

  “Did you come to visit with my husband, Pastor Reagan?”

  “No, Ma’am. We’re here to talk to you about the advertisement you sent to the Kansas City Star. Your son, the depot agent, told us where to find you.”

  The woman’s face paled, and her eyes widened at his words. Then she looked back into the house and quietly closed the door behind her back.

  Her demeanor changed, ready for the challenge.

  “Men interested were supposed to write to me, not show up in town,” Mrs. Reagan regained her composure.

  “But your advertisement said you wanted six men, and we wanted to be the first ones here,” Tobin said behind Barton.

  “Why?” Mrs. Reagan sharply asked before Barton could think what to say.

  “We’ve been together since we got on the orphan train in New York, Ma’am. The idea of living together in a wonderful community…” Tobin trailed off and lowered his head.

  Gordon watched his older brother tighten his fists by his side at Tobin’s confession, but Mrs. Reagan’s smile told him they now had a foot in her door, so to speak.

  The door opened behind Mrs. Reagan, causing her to look at the porch ceiling for a moment. In frustration or in prayer?

  “Men, this is my husband, Pastor Patrick Reagan. Patrick, could you please find Mack and Kiowa, and ask them to come over to the parsonage? Their help for a project has arrived.”

  “Kaitlyn, what project?” the pastor asked while raising his eyebrows at his wife.

  The woman put her hands on her hips and answered. “A Peashooter Society project, so please stop by and ask Lorna, Millie, Helen, and Darcie to join us too.”

  “Oh, Deuteronomy,” Gordon heard the pastor mutter as he stepped off the porch and walked toward downtown. It was the same expression his son, Angus, had uttered too.

  Mrs. Reagan turned back to them, and her stare and crossed arms meant business.

  “Now, I raised six boys myself, a mixture of brothers and adopted, and I know you didn’t read that advertisement in the newspaper and travel here only a week after I mailed my letter. Tell me the truth now, or you leave now.”

  Barton turned to consult the group, and everyone agreed for him to speak the truth.

  “Ma’am, last week we were just released from our service at Fort Riley and heading home by train to visit our families near Topeka. The train was east of Junction City when it was robbed, and all the passengers had to get off. One car was blasted open, and mail blew to the wind. We picked up the letters thinking we might get a reward for their return.”

  “Oh, dear. I heard about that robbery! Was anyone hurt?”

  “Not seriously, ma’am. But we found your letter, almost torn in two, and I confess I read it to the group.”

  “Did you hand my letter over to the postal service with the rest of the letters?”

  “No, Ma’am. I have your letter in my bag.”

  “And you thought my advertisement was a way for the six of you to stay together,” she guessed.

  “Yes, Ma’am. We’ve been home to visit family, got letters of recommendation, and traveled here as soon as we could.”

  Mrs. Reagan took a moment to study each of them, then stepped back to open the front door.

  “Please come into the dining room for coffee while we wait for the others to arrive.”

  Gordon followed Barton into the house, pulling his hat off while hoping his boots were clean. He’d walked around more than one pile of horse apples and hoped to heck he didn’t have any manure smeared on the bottom of his boots.

  “May I help you carry anything, Mrs. Reagan?” Wesley asked as the rest sat down around the long, scarred dining room table.

  Her smile lit up the room. “Yes, you may. Please follow me.”

  They let out a collected breath. Gordon looked at Barton and asked. “What do you think?” And Barton knew what he meant.

  Can we pull this off without something, or someone, ruining it?

  “I hope so. I like the town,” Tobin said as he straightened in his chair.

  *

  Gordon snapped to attention as four middle-aged women walked into the house, chatting among themselves. He was anxious to see what the ladies thought of their intrusion on the parsonage.

  Each woman quickly scanned their faces, searching for their good and bad traits? Would this group like them, or send them out the door before they had a chance to know them? Each man in their group was different in looks and personalities.

  "Hello, Ladies, may I pull your chairs out for you?" Tobin’s good manners made Gordon stand up to properly greet the women.

  Wesley returned to the dining room carrying a large coffee pot, and a flat wooden tray of cups. Mrs. Reagan followed with a large glass platter of a variety of baked goods. Was she expecting them, or used to people dropping in to visit? Either way, Gordon’s mouth drooled with anticipation of sampling her offerings.

  His adoptive mother was an excellent baker, and he missed her cinnamon rolls and apple dumplings. Hopefully, his future wife would be proficient in the kitchen.

  "Hey, Ma!" A large, bulky man filled the doorway as he strolled into the dining room. He was very tall, like Peter, but over two times as heavy in weight.

  A well-dressed Native man, his long hair in a braid flipped over his left shoulder, walked in with Pastor Reagan.

  “Gentlemen, this is my son, Mack, and Kiowa Jones.”

  "If everyone sits down, Pastor will bless our refreshment, and then I’ll explain why we’re meeting. After that, we'll go around the table to tell a little about ourselves," Mrs. Reagan told the group.

  The group said "amen" after grace and started talking and passing filled coffee cups at the same time.

  Once Mrs. Reagan sat down at the end of the table and had a sip of coffee, she cleared her throat.

  "Patrick. Yes, the Peashooter Society, as the younger people in town call us, has a plan to help several members of the community. Because there are a large number of single young women in town and several businesses which need management, we talked to Kiowa and Mack about working together with us.”

  “Ladies, our advertisement was answered more quickly than I thought, but I feel these young men might be exactly who we need for our project.”

  Gordon met Barton’s eyes, knowing this was the moment of truth for them.

  “Ladies, please go around the table and introduce yourselves first."

  “I'm Mrs. Millie Wilerson, the marshal's wife. I came as a mail-order bride in '73."

  “Millie is well known for her baking and her flower garden," Mrs. Reagan added.

  “I'm Darcie Shepard, Millie's sister. Our family has Shepard and Sons Saddlery on the east end of Main Street. Our children, Gabe, Tate, and Amelia work in the shop. Our daughter, Mary, is married to Kiowa Jones," the woman added as she pointed to the last man who entered the room.

  "Lorna Elison, lawyer's wife. Mail-order bride. Our three daughters live in Boston near their grandparents."

  "Helen Paulson. Our family owns and runs the Paulson Hotel. I also came to town for a marriage, although it turned out differently than I’d planned," Mrs. Paulson smiled broadly as she patted Lorna's hand. "And as the mother of eight girls, two of marriage age, I'm always looking for good men."

  The older group around the table chuckled at the story only they knew about, but it made Gordon uncomfortable.

  "Mrs. Cate Connely is also involved in this project, although she lives out on the Cross C Ranch with her husband, Isaac," Mrs. Reagan introduced the missing woman of the Peashooter Society. "Three of their granddaughters recently moved into town to operate the dre
ss shop, formerly owned by Mary Jones."

  "I assume you and Cate are plotting Maggie's, Molly's, and Maisie's upcoming weddings?" Pastor Reagan asked his wife.

  "And my Amelia. She needs a life besides working with her father and brothers all the time," Mrs. Shepard added with a wave of her hand.

  Amelia must have been the woman Barton ran into on the boardwalk.

  "Avalee and Nadine need husbands too," Mrs. Paulson said.

  “Thank you, ladies. I was a mail-order bride too, and so we thought, why not replicate our scenario—in reverse this time, and order men for the women in town.”

  “Mack, how did they get you involved in this?” Pastor Reagan asked his son.

  Mack shrugged his shoulders. “It made sense, Da.”

  “Gentlemen, would you please introduce yourselves and say why you’d like to be involved in this project, knowing this is a lifelong commitment,” Mrs. Reagan continued to conduct her, well, meeting.

  Gordon waited for Barton to speak, but Tobin quickly stood up first.

  “I’m Tobin Billings, and I’m honored to be here today, not only to meet all of you but because my loyal friends have never left me behind. We’ve been together since we left the orphanage in New York City at a very young age. And I will do any job you ask me to be a part of this community. Thank you,” Tobin said in a rush, and then sat down.

  Barton stood up next to introduce himself.

  “Barton Miller, and as Tobin said, we’ve been together for nearly twenty years. First on the train, then in a community in Shawnee County, near Topeka. We enlisted together at Fort Riley and have recently been mustered out. When we read about Mrs. Reagan’s opportunity, we decided we’d like to be considered, as a group, to stay together,” Barton said before sitting down.

  Gordon took a deep breath, stood, and pulled down the bottom of his jacket. “I’m Gordon, the middle Miller brother. I believe we have strengths and weaknesses as anyone, but as a group, we’re loyal and help each other out. We’d like to be part of this community as we start our adult lives.”

  “Squires Miller, the youngest of the brothers, who's been fortunate to have these good five fellows take care of me.”