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A Perfect Bride (Bride books Book 5)
A Perfect Bride (Bride books Book 5) Read online
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Praise for Ginny Sterling
I enjoyed this book. A very entertaining romance with a bit of excitement to keep you reading.
A good plot with interesting characters that won't disappoint.
A review of Treasured Bride
I started this book before I knew it was a series. I really enjoyed the concept and plot. Good writing and very romantic. I'm going to have to go back and read book 1 and 2 too.
A review of Enchanted by You
What can I say....just loved it... the characters, the story... hated to see it end. Read in one sitting. Looking for more by this author
A review of Outlaw Bride
A Perfect Bride
Ginny Sterling
Contents
Preface
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Ginny Sterling
Also by Ginny Sterling
Also by Ginny Sterling
Also by Ginny Sterling
Betsy, this one is for you!
Thank you for hosting us – we’ll have to get together again soon!
<3
Preface
Author’s note
When reading on the Treaty of New Echota in 1835, I found it heartbreaking to think of people being taken from their homes and land. Being an optimist, I tried to picture in my mind how something so horrible could have something ultimately beautiful (like falling in love) come out of it. I used quite a bit of imagination in creating this story, exaggerating here and there… but sadly there were quite a few truths that came out of this story as well. I hope you enjoy the story of Little Fire and her lieutenant.
~Ginny
Chapter One
August 1827
Georgia
“I canna believe that we are going to be living in a new land, Da!” Colleen exclaimed excitedly, her vibrant red braids bouncing with every skip she took as her family disembarked from the wagon. The idea that they would be starting anew, with the promise of land in the Georgia land lottery had brought several adventurous people their way.
Tickets had been drawn and the land had been parceled out. It was incredible to think that they could have several acres available to them, when they had struggled for so many years. At eleven years old, she wasn’t sure what the term “indentured servant” meant. Only that her da was one, as well as her ma. Her eldest brother, Jamie, was free but he, too, worked each day to put food in their bellies.
She came from a large family. There was Jamie, the eldest, then herself, followed by three others: Sarah, Paul and baby Peter. All had a fierce mop of red hair signifying their heritage. The O’Maras had emigrated from Ireland long before Colleen was born, yet their homeland would never be forgotten. Her da wouldn’t have it.
Each night, he would tell tales as they camped round the fire on the way to their new home. She could tell he was exhausted, but his pale green eyes that mirrored hers would alight with a fire that was incredible and infectious. Colleen was entranced by the tales of Tristan and Iseult, Brian Boru, the Fianna and stories of Saint Patrick himself. It sounded like such a magical, mystical place unlike the humid forest trails they travelled along now.
Georgia was incredibly muggy for August. Colleen couldn’t imagine that the crispy, salty air of New York could be so vastly different. The farther the family travelled down south, the heavier and thicker the air had become. It lost the salty taste and, instead, grew feathery from the sweet pollen that seemed to hang on everything even long after spring had moved into deep summer. There were no cool moss banks. Only rocky, sandy footholds greeted them as they brought their horses to drink. The birds would sing in the trees just like before. And while it was different from the stories Colleen imagined, this land had its own fascinating appeal to it.
As her family prepared to settle down for the night, Colleen knew that she, Sarah and her mother would gather what they could to fix their meal for the evening. The men would hunt and they would meet back up at the wagon. During dinner, they would make plans for the next day and then the stories would begin. That was her favorite part! Those wild, outlandish tales would give her such vibrant dreams that carried her away.
Walking slowly with her mother, they foraged, gathering several handfuls of dandelion greens as well as peaches. The yellow-hued fuzzy fruits were dripping from the trees they had come upon in the glade. They snacked on several and filled their aprons with others for the rest of the family before heading back.
Her father sat near the fire that Jamie was starting, yanking the fur off of a rabbit he must have caught in a snare. They would eat well tonight, all of them. Sometimes, there was nothing to be found and they would simply have hard soda biscuits to keep their stomachs from growling angrily. Tonight, it would feel like a feast!
Many a time, her da would sneak some of his meal towards her when her mother wasn’t looking. He would lean down and instruct her quietly to eat up before her mother saw, claiming that his little Irish princess would never go hungry in his house. Even with no house around them as they lay under the stars, he watched them.
“Da! Da! Look at this!” Colleen announced, breaking into the clearing where the wagon sat. Her chest heaved with exertion and excitement. The ripe peaches were practically bursting with juice. The soft skin was covered with a delicate fuzz that beckoned a touch.
“I see that, my sweet gel. A treasure trove, to be sure,” he teased, patting her on the head. His callused hand bounced right off her curls that had slipped free from her braided hair.
“Aye! Sarah and I sampled one or two, but it willna affect our supper. I promise,” she declared with her fingers crossing her chest and forehead emphatically.
“I’m sure it willna,” he said with a grin, and went back to skinning the rabbit before putting it on a spit. “This wee rabbit will be glad to be sacrificed to such a generous little princess.”
“I dinna think he will,” she said with a frown, staring at the naked carcass. “But if Jamie doesna burn him this time, I’m sure he will be delicious.”
“I didna burn him, you ungrateful gobshite,” Jamie roared, jumping to his feet defensively. The Irish temper in him was fierce to see as his skin flushed with embarrassment and anger.
“Sit your arse down, boy-o,” her da ordered in a calm voice. The fire crackled in the silence as his pale green eyes stared them both down. “I’ll no’ be listening to that all night. You’ll be grateful for what the Lord has put before us and that’s the end o’ it. Not another word.”
“Yes, sir,” they both chimed quickly and glared daggers at each other across the fire.
“It will taste like soot, to be sure,” Colleen whispered as she darted past her brother. She chanced a glance at her father to make sure he hadn’t heard. The shaking of his shoulders and the proud glint in his eyes, told her
that he had. She was spoiled and she knew it. Colleen seemed to be able to get away with anything when it came to her father. Her mother? Not so much!
As her head turned back around, her mother’s hand soundly landed on her. “You’ll respect your da. What he says, goes! You’ll not be backtalking your brother after your scolding, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she whimpered, holding her cheek where it stung. It wasn’t often that she got into trouble with her mother. But when she did, it made an impression. She stared at the ground, mortified to have been caught and dismayed that she had gotten struck in front of Jamie’s laughing face. Looking slyly around, Colleen smirked arrogantly.
“You’re the gobshite, you heathen,” she announced in the merest whisper laced with acid. He had always irritated her and today was no different!
As Jamie stood, Colleen ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Anywhere! She knew if Jamie caught her, she’d have a bruise or two until her mother or father spied him twisting her skin in a godawful pinch. He had found that she bruised easily and the large bully would take advantage of it.
Darting through the bushes, her dress snagged on brambles. The grasses tickled her legs as she broke into a clearing away from camp. As she broke the tree line, she fell hard onto her stomach to avoid being seen by the gathering ahead of her. There were several Indians as well as several gentlemen on horses. Their words didn’t carry but by the expressions on their faces, they looked upset. Colleen stared, fascinated by the sheer difference between the men. The Indians seemed to be almost bald, shorn in such a fashion that left a length of hair running down their backs but the sides had been clipped close. Their chests were bare and their necks were adorned with a large handkerchief tied loosely about them. Even in the heat, it was obvious they valued how they appeared because one had a pelt casually thrown over his shoulder as if on display. The others had no such items, yet boldly stood as they talked.
The stately man was in full garb, dabbing at his head profusely. His coat, shirt and cravat must be soaked with sweat sitting there in the sun. She felt sorry for the large stallion he sat upon, simply because he looked to be rather large around the waist. The horse stood still in the heat, not moving.
Slowly, Colleen backed away and prayed the grasses hid her escape. They tried to stay away from others because her father had said that it could be dangerous in these times. People wanted the land from the Indians and unscrupulous ones meant to take it by any means necessary. She wondered if the large gentleman was actually trying to take the Indians property. Once in the trees, she turned tail and ran quickly back in the direction she had come from. She wanted to explain to her family that others were nearby and that they needed to arm themselves just in case.
Entering the clearing, she bent over, exhausted, while she clenched her side as if to rub away the sharp stitch that was there. As she caught her breath, she told her father of the people she had seen and what direction they were. Sure enough, he pulled his gun, clicking the hammer back on the large flintlock. It was almost the length of his forearm and looked ominous.
Her father looked down at her and smiled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. They were icy cold. “You’ll be safe, my little Irish princess. No one will harm you, I swear it on my life,” he pledged. “Now, go join the others and I’ll keep watch.”
Nodding, she dutifully took her seat near the fire and ignored the nasty comments her brother made as she stared at her father off in the distance. Something didn’t feel right and she was scared for the first time. She had always felt careless and free, but now? Now she felt darkness moving in. Ominous. Insidious.
Her mother said nothing, just glanced at the others and shushed them about. Colleen ate out of instinct, not paying attention. At the poke on her shoulder, she handed her plate over absently to Jamie’s dismayed face.
“You dinna eat the rabbit at all,” he commented, looking surprised.
“Soot,” she quipped and looked away as he picked up the morsel and ate it himself.
“It is no’ soot, you blithering idiot,” he mocked, taking another large bite aggressively. “But if you dinna be wanting it, then I’d be happy to have your share.”
“Have it, then.”
This took the wind out of his sails completely, giving him the same wary look she had. “What is it?” he finally asked her quietly.
“Something isna right,” she repeated, crossing herself. She couldn’t explain, it but the afternoon felt so very wrong compared to earlier in the day. She felt like she was being watched, studied.
Hunted.
This realization made her jump to her feet in fear, glancing about. “Jamie, get Da!” she ordered quietly and stared at the rest of the faces around her. Her mother must have seen something in Colleen’s eyes and dropped the metal plates on the ground with a slight clatter.
“Kids, get in the wagon, now,” she ordered and kneeled in front of Colleen. “What is it?” she asked, shaking her and clenching her arms.
“I dinna know, but something is wrong,” she whispered, feeling tears of fear and frustration come to her eyes. “It’s bad.”
“Never question it. It’s your soul warning you. Heed it e’ery time, you hear? Trust it! Now, get in the wagon and pull the ticking over you,” her mother commented, staring off in the distance above Colleen’s head. “Go, and do not come out. You understand? Silence now, gel.”
Colleen nodded and climbed into the wagon as quietly as possible. Her sister and brothers were holding each other and sitting along the wooden planking that made up the sides. Colleen slipped in and wiggled into the bedroll as directed, not making a sound. She stayed as quiet as a mouse, thinking of her father’s outlandish stories in order to keep herself calm. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the wagon, but the faint smell of smoke drew her out of her trance she seemed to have put herself under.
Popping, hissing and faint sounds echoed off in the distance and, yet, Colleen waited. Her mother told her not to move, and she refused to be struck again for disobedience. The acrid smell grew stronger and the bedroll grew unbearably hot in the Georgia heat. Inching her way out slowly, she realized that there were people moving around outside of the wagon yet she was alone. Her brothers and sister had exited the wagon at some point. As she stood, preparing to join them, she saw the dark shorn head of the Indian from earlier walk by the entrance of the wagon, causing Colleen to drop silently into place, frozen.
Where was everyone? What was this man doing?
Saying nothing, she waited and bided her time as she had been instructed to do. Someone would come for her, sooner or later. Her da had gone to check the area, her mother was waiting for him. Jamie and the others were elsewhere. And this strange man? This strange man was in their camp.
Tendrils of smoke began to fill the wagon where she hid, yet Colleen remained firm. She sat, eyes burning from the smoke and her nose filling with the pungent smell, and waited. At last, when she could no longer breathe, she silently moved from her position and climbed down from the wagon only to see that the thick smoke was coming from the wagon itself. It had been moved just above the fire where they had roasted the rabbit not long ago. The horse that pulled the wagon was gone, its tethers lay on the ground blistering from the heat of the fire.
Aghast, Colleen pushed at the laden wagon in order to move it any direction from the fire. It was no use. The wagon was simply too heavy to move alone with her thin body. Looking around, confused, she wanted to call out for her mother or father. Yet, no one was nearby. She was honestly afraid that the strange Indian would return or had harmed her family but she had no proof. She was alone.
“Mother?” she whispered bravely and stared at the trees that seemed to look so threatening. “Da? Jamie? Hello?” Colleen crouched down in a protective manner by the fire and stared at her surroundings for ages. The wagon was beginning to burn and the bedroll she had lay inside glowed as it began to catch fire. As the sun began to go down, her legs ached and cramped from her
position, yet she dared not move. Horrific red and yellow flames licked the darkness where they touched the sky, yet she waited.
She felt down deep in her stomach, that if she moved, it would be to flee. But where was everyone? Why was she alone? Finally, as night fell, a large pop from the fire seemed to awaken her from her vigil. It had been too long and Da would have never left her like this for this length of time. Even when she had misbehaved, he always checked on her. This was wrong, all wrong!
Standing and stretching, she felt horribly alone. Surrounded by intense heat and darkness, she began to slowly look around where she could see by firelight. Hearing a noise nearby, Colleen clambered into a tree quickly, terrified by what could be coming. Her instincts had proven to be correct again as a large wolf walked below where she perched. Staring at the moon through the trees, she sat carefully on the branch dangling her legs. Wrapping her arms around the tree trunk, she leaned towards another large branch and attempted to rest where she believed herself to be safe for the time being.
At dawn, the world around her began to come alive. Birds were chirping, trees were rustling in the wind and the embers of the wagon, or what remained, were smoldering. She was horrified and exhausted that she had spent the entire night in the tree, hidden.
“Da?” she squeaked and flinched when several birds took off from nearby causing a ruckus. Waiting, she found that she was almost afraid to move. What if her father returned and she had left to go looking for them? What if the Indian returned? So there, she waited and waited. Her stomach rumbled painfully as the bright sun shone through the leaves, and still nothing.