Mail-Order Convenience

Mail-Order Convenience

Mail-Order Matchmaker series

Book 4

Mildred Colvin

Historical Christian Romance

Mail-Order Convenience

Copyright©2024 by Mildred Colvin

All Rights Reserved

Cover Photos © Greg Kelton | Dreamstime.com

© Artycrafter | Dreamstime.com

Smashwords edition

Scripture portions are taken from the

King James Version of the Bible.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from its author except for brief quotations in printed reviews.

Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Contents

Title Page

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

Epilogue

Next in Series

About the Author

More Books

Chapter 1

Avelan, Ohio, early October 1881

Cynthia Burns nodded to the gentleman who opened the door for her, then grasped the hands of her two small children and left the bank building. She kept her head held high and her steps resolute as she matched her children’s shorter stride as they walked down the busy city street. If she gave in to her feelings, she’d break into a run with her hands covering her burning face and her heels pounding the boardwalk that lined the downtown businesses of Avelan, Ohio. She wouldn’t, though. That would only give fuel to the already blazing inferno caused by her husband’s outrageous behavior.

Her heart jerked at the thought of her husband and the loss she’d suffered. Losses might be more accurate. Not only was she a widow now, but her reputation had suffered a blow as well, and her children hurt terribly. Walking through the small town they’d enjoyed for seven years was far more difficult than she’d imagined. This was her first outing since Jeremiah’s funeral. She hadn’t known of the judgmental attitude her former friends would display at the sight of her and her children.

Even now, one friend paused as they approached and grabbed her son by the shoulder as if he might become contaminated if they came too close.

Mama, there’s Tommy. Her five-year-old son, Jeremiah, looked at her as if seeking permission to run to his friend.

Oh, how she wanted to tell him it would be all right to speak to him, but from the look on his mother’s face, friendship wasn’t an option. I’m sorry, Jerry, but we’re in a hurry. We mustn’t stop. You may wave at him if you’d like.

Mama!

Do as I say, Jeremiah Burns! She cut off the whine in his voice. Do not stop walking.

Before they reached the two, Tommy bent and picked something up from the boardwalk. As they drew near, he lifted his hand and a fist-full of mud landed with a splat on Jerry’s chest. At least, she hoped it was only mud.

What’d ya do that for, Tommy? Jerry used his free hand to wipe the mess away, but only smeared it and dirtied his hand. Yuck, that stinks.

No more’n you do. Tommy taunted while his mother watched, a smug expression on her face.

Cynthia quickened her steps, trying to get past the one woman she’d thought would befriend her no matter what. Obviously, she was wrong. Come on, children, we must get home.

Oh? Genevieve Smithers raised her eyebrows almost to her hairline. I’m surprised you have a home after what your husband did.

Sweeping past the impossible woman, Cynthia didn’t slow her steps but pulled her children along with her as they ran to keep from falling. "What he did is right. We had nothing to do with it. You should take your sanctimonious attitude to an altar and ask for forgiveness."

She was well past before finishing her admonition and didn’t get to see the effect her words had. Probably very little. Most people believed they were right, no matter what they did.

When no more disgusting mud or worse hit them, she slowed just enough so her poor children could regain their footing. As they continued to the street where their home stood, she spoke to the only One who could help her. Lord, please help us get home without another incident. And please show us the way through this test. Haven’t we suffered enough?

How could she manage the next few days? At least, the bank officer hadseemed sympathetic and told her they’d have thirty days from today to find another place to live. Her husband had never told her about mortgaging their home and furnishings to feed his extravagant gambling addiction, but his signature was on the papers. Had he thought he’d win and pay the money back without her knowledge? Or did he care? Auctioning all they owned would repay his debt, and they had to be out no later than the day before. But that wasn’t the worst, and she didn’t want to think of the rest.

She’d known news from the bank wouldn’t be good, but she had no place to go and no money to pay for even a room. When Jeremiah’s actions became front page news on the local paper and were whispered behind every hand in their town, she’d sent a telegram to her older sister, hoping for help. She should have known better!

Rosa hadn’t even given her the courtesy of answering. But someone else had. Funny, when family let you down, others stepping into the void seemed so much sweeter. She’d received a telegram from her sister’s dearest childhood friend offering her a way out if she was interested. She’d promised a letter would follow.

Cynthia opened the front door of the house that felt cold and empty. Even the children hung back until she stepped over the threshold first. Their housekeeper had already left. Jeremiah was gone. Five bedrooms for only three people. No wonder she felt like a stranger in the home she’d come to as a bride with so many hopes and dreams.

She looked around the stately old house Jeremiah had inherited from his parents. But what did it matter? The past couldn’t change. But the future would. They couldn’t stay here and continue to endure the stares and whispers of those who should stand up for her and the children. Why couldn’t they see their innocence? Her children were young now, but soon their father’s actions would touch their lives in other ways, and she didn’t want that to happen. She no longer wanted to stay here, but would be glad to go if only she knew where they’d be welcome. Where the shame didn’t exist. Jerry and Ettie didn’t understand what was happening, but both knew something was terribly wrong. Maybe Olive Conner’s second letter, if it ever arrived, was just what they needed. She took the children upstairs and changed Jerry’s clothing, then turning she met her son’s eyes. Ettie stood beside him as if together they were stronger.

Mama, we want to know when Papa’s coming home.

His little boy voice, so firm, demanding an answer he could understand, hit her as a physical blow. She knelt in front of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. How could she explain without destroying their faith in their father?

Jerry, remember we talked about this? At his nod, she knew it wasn’t enough. Swallowing her fear, she said, Do you remember last month when we went to the church and the box sat in front?

Again, he nodded. Ettie didn’t move, but watched closely.

Your Papa’s body was in that box, and then we took it to the cemetery. I know you remember when they put the box in the ground because we threw roses in to land on it. They were our love for Papa. Remember, I explained that, too. Oh, why did she have to go over this again? Tears burned her eyes. Their trust in her was almost more than she could stand. But she couldn’t tell them everything.

When’s he coming home to us? He seemed to dare her to answer. We want him home.

I know. I do too. She’d give anything to go back to the way it was before he began leaving after supper. Later, there were days he hadn’t come home at all. Sometimes late in the night he’d slip in, sometimes not until dawn broke over the eastern sky. Why had he done this? Her fingers tightened slightly on their shoulders. Children, please understand. Your papa won’t come home ever again. He got hurt so bad that he went to Heaven. He’s with God now.

Was he in Heaven? How she wished it were true, but considering the circumstances, she wondered about the condition of his soul when he died. Maybe, in those last moments before death claimed him, he’d cried out to the Lord. Oh, how she hoped that was true!

After crying for him every night for so long, she’d decided she couldn’t do anything for him now. He was in God’s hands. Thankfully, his parents hadn’t lived to witness his shame. He’d killed her love for him, and now her focus must center on the two darlings standing in front of her, their eyes wide and trusting as she knelt before them. I love you so much! We are our family now. Just the three of us.

She didn’t realize tears were sliding down her cheeks until Jerry reached up and wiped the moisture away. Ettie burst into tears then and lunged into her arms. She gathered them both close while all of them wept and grieved for the death of their papa, and for the family they had known.

Although something shifted inside Cynthia, bringing a sort of relief, she still harbored anger at Jeremiah. Why had he allowed this to happen? They’d all loved him, but he’d spent so little time with them. Finally, she pulled back and wiped their tears with her handkerchief. Why don’t you two go play? Let’s find something fun to do and bring those smiles back to our faces. All right?

At their solemn nods, she gave them another hug. Go on now. I love you. There’s plenty of play time before supper. I’ll call you when it’s ready.

Okay, Mama. Jerry ran a few steps, then turned and motioned for his sister. Come on, Ettie. Wanna race to my room?

As they ran off, Cynthia got up from the floor and let her heart settle as she shifted her attention to what she needed to do next. One month might seem like plenty of time, but it would be over before she found a place to stay if she didn’t start seeking help now. But first, dinner needed to be cooked. She turned to go to the kitchen when her doorbell sounded.

Changing directions, she opened the door to find a young man holding out a yellow envelope. A telegram. She took the envelope. Thank you.

Noticing it was from her older sister, she turned away and closed the door without tipping the boy. Although she felt guilty, every penny she had was necessary for her children.

So Rosa answered after all. What