Deeply Devoted (The Blue Willow Brides Book #1)

Maggie Brendan

Description

When Catharine Olsen leaves Holland for America as a mail-order bride, she brings along some extra baggage: two sisters, her mother's set of Blue Willow china, and a tragic past. When she arrives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, she promptly marries Peter Andersen and dreams of starting life over in this rugged land. Peter is kind and patient with Catharine and accommodating to her sisters. His mother, however, is not. When she begins a campaign to sabotage Peter's marriage, Catharine is distraught, worried that her secret past will be discovered. Will her life end up as nothing but broken pieces? Or will these trials make her stronger?Readers will love negotiating the clash of cultures and class as a highborn European and a Western wheat farmer learn to love one another and trust God with both the past and the future.

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441234025
• Langue: English

Extrait

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© 2011 by Maggie Brendan
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-3402-5
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations labeled NASB are from the New American Standard Bible®, copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.lockman.org
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with Tamela Hancock Murray of the Hartline Literary Agency, LLC.
Any internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication. They are provided only as a resource; Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or permanence.
In memory of Colonel Alexander Richard Christine (July 2, 1932–July 22, 2010), for his deep devotion to his country, the United States of America, and the tremendous suffering he endured for many years so that we might have our freedoms.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Ads
What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in your ear, proclaim upon the housetops.
Matthew 10:27 NASB
Cheyenne Territory, Wyoming Spring 1887
Catharine Olsen sipped the last of her tea from the bottom of her cherished Blue Willow teacup, then carefully placed it on the saucer on the table next to her. She leaned back on the settee, shoving her curls away from her face, and slipped a letter out of her Bible. Though she knew the words by heart, she reread the letter, now worn and discolored from time.
Catharine,
It is hard for me to contain my joy that soon we shall meet and you will be my bride. I feel like I already know you well from our correspondence. I pray you will have safe travel on the Union Pacific. You should have a day to rest after the long, arduous journey. I will promptly call for you at the hotel the next day. Until then, I remain affectionately yours,
Peter Andersen
Had it been just yesterday when she stared from the train’s window at the prairie that seemed to stretch as far as her eye could see? The relentless wind whipped the unending gold-tipped grass, and there was not a tree in sight . . . just open fields with an occasional cabin dotting the landscape and perhaps deer or elk grazing in the distance. Peter had told her to keep a lookout for them, and maybe a herd of bison. She wondered how she would adjust to such surroundings after leaving her beloved Amsterdam with its lush meadows and myriad of tulips . . . and the memories, not all of them good. An image swam before her eyes, and her heart tightened. I can’t think about it today or I won’t be able to go on . . . What purpose could it possibly serve?
Would her heart ever heal? A single tear slid down her cheek, but she hastily swept it away before her sisters could see. She sighed and glanced over at them sitting with their heads together, reading a newspaper they’d picked up at the last stop. She prayed silently that all would work out as she hoped, but she knew from experience that only the Lord could see what was in store.
“Next stop, Cheyenne!” the conductor announced as he walked the aisle. He lifted his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “In about ten minutes.” Passengers began to gather their reading materials, satchels, and personal belongings in preparation for their arrival.
True to the conductor’s word, the train slowed its approach at the Union Pacific depot. Catharine decided that it was one of the most beautiful railroad depots she’d ever seen. The impressive structure looked fairly new with its multicolored sandstone, stone arches, and steeply pitched roofs that resembled a castle. Peter had written in his letters that the stone was quarried from west of Fort Collins, Colorado. Along the opposite side of the train, the rail yard was a profusion of trains narrowly wedged between one another, which could make disembarking dangerous.
Finally, with a squeal of metal on metal and a belch of steam, the engine halted, then passengers immediately scrambled to the exits, happy to have arrived in Cheyenne.
“Finally! I’m ready to get off this train,” Greta exclaimed, but she lowered her voice after a stern look from Catharine.
“Stay close to me, girls. The train tracks are really close together, and walking could be treacherous.” Catharine led the way, and the conductor assisted them after reminding them to take care as they stepped off. The wind howled, scattering dust and debris and threatening to rip their skirts from their slight forms in the bright April morning.
All three paused a moment amid the throng of people and soldiers and looked about wide-eyed. A foreign soil and a foreign city. The contrast here in life and in customs would be hard at first, no doubt, Catharine thought. Straightening her shoulders, she motioned to her sisters to follow her into the depot. Greta and Anna struggled with their heavy satchels, huffing and puffing.
Catharine stopped to watch them, shaking her head. “I told you not to carry too much on the train. Will you two ever listen to reason?”
Greta laughed, and the vibrant sound echoed throughout the vast waiting room. “We will, dear sister, just as soon as you have something sensible to say. You’re such a worrier.”
“Don’t be mean, Greta,” Anna scolded her sister. “I wish I hadn’t stuffed all my paint into this satchel. I hope nothing leaked out. But I just couldn’t leave it behind.” The youngest of the three hiked her bag up to her chest and used her other arm to support it.
“Okay, let’s find out where we’re to go,” Catharine said, looking around the large room. “Peter has a room waiting for me at the hotel. I’ll just need to ask about further instructions.”
The waiting area was filled with travelers, some being greeted as they arrived and others bidding their goodbyes before their respective trains departed. Catharine and her sisters stood stock-still to admire the beautiful room with its large fireplace, making it appear homey and restful for the many travelers who milled about. The depot was enormous, and no expense had been spared on the elegant fixtures. Catharine admired the pine and red-oak carved woodwork and ample windows that flooded the room with bright light.
A group of soldiers in army uniforms stood milling about near the ticket window and openly admired the three young women. One offered to help with Greta’s bags, but when she started to say yes, Catharine stayed her by the arm. Greta smiled at the soldier and he shrugged with a grin, but his eyes followed them. Greta glanced back with a flirtatious tilt of her head.
Peter wouldn’t arrive until the next day, which would allow Catharine a chance to rest before their meeting. He would not be prepared for her sisters in tow as well. That was one little detail that Catharine hadn’t told him about, for fear of rejection. Peter had paid for her travel fare, and by closely watching her budget after her father’s shipping business failed, she’d managed to save enough funds for her sisters’ fares as well. Her parents’ untimely death at sea six months ago, during a buying trip to the Indies, caused catastrophic loss for his shipping company, and it hadn’t helped the situation when Catharine scrutinized the ledgers and found that her father’s accountant had embezzled most of the profits, leaving them with very little to live on.
She tightened her lips in a fine line and looked around the busy depot for someone to ask about directions to their hotel. Over a window with metal bars across it was a sign that read Information , so Catharine spoke to the clerk there. “Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where the Inter Ocean Hotel is?”
The clerk looked up and smiled at her and her sisters, straightening his bow tie. “The hotel’s one block north on Sixteenth Street, ma’am. Will you need assistance?”
“If you would be so kind, I would be most grateful. We have two large trunks that need to be transported.” As Catharine gave him her name to make arrangements for their luggage to be taken to the hotel, the clerk’s pen paused as he squinted over his spectacles at her. “So . . . you’re Miss Olsen.” He leaned toward the front edge of the window, then scrutinized her with an approving gaze.
“Yes, sir, I am, and these are my sisters, Greta and Anna.” Greta and Anna bowed their heads slightly in his direction, and his smile broadened.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you ladies. Name’s Joe Willis.” He bobbed his head. “I’m to tell you Peter Andersen has a carriage waiting to carry you the short distance to the hotel . . . but I don’t think he mentioned any sisters.” He studied the three of them, his eyes sweeping from one to the other. “Maybe I can be of assistance with your carpetbag there.”
Catharine smiled back. “I believe we can manage. If you’ll just see to it that our trunks are delivered, then we’ll be going.”
“Will do. You’ll enjoy your stay at the Inter Ocean. It’s