Mail Order Merchant: Brides of Beckham (Cowboys and Angels #5)

Toria thought about her words for a moment. “And John?”

“John didn’t want to like you, but he can’t help himself. Now he looks up to you and enjoys your company. It only took you a week to turn him around. You were what they both needed.” Grace smiled at her. “I’m happy now. I’m doing what I need to do. I want you to be happy as well.”

Toria nodded. “I think I’m happy. Mortimer brought me flowers on Monday.”

“Good. He needs to treat you like a princess, because you’re the kind of woman he should have married the first time.” Grace stood up. “I’ll be around if you need me, but you shouldn’t. You’re going to be fine now.”

Toria watched her walked toward the door and fade away as she got to it. She wasn’t certain she believed Grace could be her angel. It was far-fetched, but not a great deal more than her being a ghost.

She concentrated on making the little flowers on her dress. Thinking too much about her guardian angel—or ghost—was too hard for her mind to handle at the moment.



Toria woke the following morning, very excited about going to the dance. She’d picked out just the right brooch to wear with her dress, and she’d finally finished the flowers on her collar. Instead of immediately jumping out of bed to start breakfast like she usually did, she turned to her side to watch Mortimer sleep.

The love that welled up in her every time she saw him surprised her. He wasn’t the type of man she had allowed to escort her in Beckham, but there was something about him that was sweet and special.

Mortimer’s eyes fluttered open, and he found her watching him. “Good morning.”

Toria smiled. “Good morning, Mortimer.”

“Are you just lying there watching me sleep?”

She nodded. “I’m very excited about the dance tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve danced…I hope I haven’t forgotten how!”

He chuckled. “I don’t think you have. But who cares either way? We’ll have fun even if we stand in the middle of the floor swaying to the music. I’m looking forward to holding you in my arms.”

She scooted a little closer to him on the mattress. “You could hold me in your arms now to practice.” She still wasn’t ready for more to happen between them, but she loved the idea of him holding her close.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, his cheek resting atop her head. “This feels nice. I like practicing with you.”

“Me, too.”



That evening, when they were getting ready for the dance, Toria used Grace’s sewing room as a place to get ready so Mortimer wouldn’t see her dress until she was completely ready. She took a hand mirror into the room and carefully did her hair, forgoing the curling, but instead putting it up atop her head in a new style she’d seen back east.

When she was completely ready, she slipped her shoes on and stepped out into the hallway, seeing that Mortimer was stepping out of their bedroom, tying his cravat.

He stopped short at the sight of her, wondering how he had ever compared her unfavorably to another woman. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled sweetly, thankful he thought so after the time she’d put into dressing. “Thank you. I’m ready. I just have to get the food we’re taking from the oven.”

“Would you help me with my cravat?”

She nodded, stepping close to him, her fingers going to his neck to work on the tie. “I like how this suit looks on you. Who tied your tie the day we married?”

“John helped me with it. For some reason, he’s always been better at ties than me. Of course, my hands were shaking so badly there was no way I could ever have dressed myself properly.”

“You were nervous the day we married?” She was surprised. She’d never seen one little sign of it.

“I was. Until I saw you.”

“And then you were disappointed.”

“I was. I shouldn’t have been, but I was.” When she’d finished with his tie, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I have something I’d like for you to wear to the dance, if you don’t mind.”

She looked at the box in his hand and nodded, knowing she would take off her brooch if he wanted her to wear something he’d given her. It didn’t matter to her enough to not. “I’d like that.”

He handed her the box, and she opened it, gasping when she saw what was inside. “I never got you an engagement ring, or even a wedding ring. I thought tonight would be a good night to rectify that.”

He took the ring from her hand and slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand. “I hope you like it.”

“How could I not like it? Mortimer, it’s beautiful!” The ring was gold with a diamond in the center. Never in her life had she dreamed she would own something so beautiful. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Will it seem strange if I say it will give me pleasure to see you wear it?”

She shook her head, still staring at the beautiful ring. “I hope I don’t blind anyone with this thing tonight.”

Mortimer laughed. “Let’s go dance the night away.”

She gathered the dish she’d made and followed him down to the front of the store. Otto the liveryman had brought the buggy around, and Mortimer gallantly handed her up into it. “Thank you, Otto,” he said, taking the lines and sitting closely beside her.

Otto nodded. “Sophia wants to go, so I’ll see you there!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing her.” Toria gripped Mortimer’s arm, and they headed for the dance. “I can’t believe how excited I am. I haven’t been to a dance in a good ten years. There just wasn’t anyone I wanted to go with.”

Mortimer smiled at her. “And you want to go with me?” He was well aware of the disparity in their looks. She was beautiful, and he was past his prime. He was in good physical shape from all the work he did in the store, but so was she.

“I want to do everything with you, Mortimer.” She bit her tongue to keep from telling him she loved him. She knew he wasn’t quite ready for those words, and she wasn’t ready for the rejection they’d bring. The courting he’d done that week had been very nice, and she’d loved the flowers, little gifts, and walks in the snow. “How well do you know Marta and Royce?”

He shrugged. “They come into town to buy things, so I know them from the store. Marta is Royce’s second wife. His first wife died in childbirth, but the baby lived. He has a whole houseful of kids—I can’t even recall how many now. But Marta has been very good for all of them. You can see that he’s happy again.”

“Do they often have barn dances?” Back in Beckham, there were dances, but she’d never been to one in a barn. She couldn’t believe how much she was looking forward to it.

“I have no idea. I believe this is the first, but I don’t always hear about fun things to do. I’m an old man.”

“You’re not an old man! Why, you’re not much past forty, are you?”

He smiled at her. “I’m forty-two. I feel like an old man. I’ve raised a child, lost a wife…those are things that you’ve done when you’re old.”

Kirsten Osbourne & Cowboys & Angels's books