Laura's Second Chance (Widows of Virginia Book #2)(13)

Robert’s smile dimmed a bit.

“Laura? Y-you don’t have to answer immediately…” he started to back out.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

He’d been there for her in her darkest hour. She loved Anton, but like Susan said months ago, that now seemed like decade, he would have wanted her to be happy. Robert made her happy. He respected her, he respected her love for Anton.

What other answer did he expect?

But he continued to gape at her. Laura didn’t repeat her answer. She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

“What do you think that means?” she giggled into his ear.

He didn’t reply either, just lifted her up and spun around holding her tight.



The End

of

Laura’s Second Chance



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A Mail Order Bride for the Undertaker


Edgeport, Missouri, November 1870



“Miss Mercy, Elliot took my paper!”

It took all her willpower not to sigh at the little freckled red-head boy grinning at her from his desk near the door. Mrs. Teresa Grayson, Mercy’s superior, was known for her powerful glares, but Mercy was not a strict sixty-year-old matron. Far from it. She was just an eighteen-year-old orphan trying to keep her home from being closed down. She knew substituting for Mrs. Grayson would be a challenge, but at least this was something Mercy was good at.

“Elliot, please give Ruth back her paper.”

“But I don’t have it.”

Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly. It was a good thing the Scriptures kept her sane. Mercy smiled at Elliot and crouched down in front of him.

“Ruth really needs her paper back so she can do her homework.” Mercy opened her palm. “And it’s not good to take things from someone without their permission, remember?”

Elliot’s face crumpled, but he didn’t cry. Thank God for small blessings. He handed back Ruth’s paper. “I was just playin’.”

Mercy ruffled his hair. “We can play other games. Games where everyone’s happy.”

Elliot pouted and stared down at his feet. “Are you mad, Miss?”

“Of course not.” She kissed his forehead and handed the paper back to Ruth.

“All right, everyone.” Mercy clapped her hands. “That’s the end of today’s lesson. God be with you.”

The children rushed out of the room, but Mercy could still hear the stampede rolling through the hallway. Distracted by the noise she almost missed the two curly-haired girls, one blond and one brunette that stayed behind. They were sisters, if Mercy remembered correctly.

“Yes, Carla, Caroline?”

They looked up at Mercy and smiled at her. Carla produced a small red apple from behind her back. Caroline giggled and hid behind her sister.

“Is this for me, girls?” Mercy leaned down to their level.

They nodded. Oh, bless their little hearts. But Mercy knew she couldn’t take it. Food was scarce at the orphanage. She wondered how they managed to squirrel the apple away in the first place.

Mercy stroked their blonde heads. “Why don’t you keep it for later, hmm? I’m not really hungry right now.”

They looked at each other, their mouths in a frown. They hardly spoke to anyone, except on days where they asked for their parents. The mixed emotions on their little faces forced Mercy to scramble for a better excuse.

“Excuse me, Sister?”

A young woman with blonde curls piled atop her head held together by a red scarf appeared out of nowhere. Her brown petticoat swept street dust into the room.

Mercy turned around, and smiled. “Oh, I’m not a nun.” Well, not yet anyway. She had been considering that option despite being raised a protestant. All because of the nuns next door, that helped run the orphanage with the pastor and his wife.

“Miss?” Carla glanced at the stranger and back to her teacher.

Mercy looked down at the girls and patted Carla on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and find your friends? I think I can hear Daisy and Lyle playing tag from here.”

The sisters laughed and raced outside.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I was told to look for Mercy Elkwood?”

“That’s me.” Mercy tucked a stray black curl behind her ear and approached the woman. “Please, take a seat.”

“No, it’s all right, I won’t stay long.” The woman’s blue eyes roved around the room before settling on Mercy’s face. “I was told you write letters for ads?”

“Ads?”

The woman blushed and added in a quieter tone, “You know … the ones from Matrimonial News.”

“Oh. You’re Elizabeth Springfield, if I remember right.”

The woman reddened even more, as she must have realized she forgot to introduce herself, and pressed the front of her dull maroon dress. Old, but clean. “Yes. You were highly recommended by the Frontier Hearts Agency.”

Mercy nodded. “I write the letters.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder and said, “Unfortunately, I have some more classes today. Could we meet tomorrow?” “Of course.” Elizabeth smiled. “Say, high noon at the bake shop?”