Mail Order Mistletoe (Brides of Beckham Book 17) Read Online Free Page A

sister?"
    Meg finished up her story and sighed.  "I haven't even had the courage to tell my parents that I'm off to North Dakota to marry a complete stranger.  I know they wouldn't be pleased with me."
    "No, they probably wouldn't.  Why I'd be furious with my daughter for doing the same thing, even though I was a mail order bride myself.  It just doesn't seem like something my daughter should do.  Back then it seemed the ultimate adventure.  I don't know how safe it would be in today's world."  Gertie frowned.  "When you get to North Dakota, and you meet your Lars, you send me a letter straight away so I know you're there and you've arrived safely, and he hasn't hurt you or anything.  I don't want to get home and worry about you nonstop."
    "I promise!"
    Gertie immediately wrote her address on a piece of paper, giving it to Meg.  "May I help you make something?" she asked, eyeing Meg's project.
    Meg shook her head.  "I only brought enough fabric for one apron to work on.  I should have gotten more."
    "That's all right.  We can chat while you work."
    By the time Gertie got off the train six days later, Meg had not only finished the apron, she had written long newsy letters to her parents about what she'd done and she had written each of her siblings.  She had read two books and spent many hours staring out the window.
    As Gertie's stop was called, Meg got to her feet, hugging the older woman tightly.  "I'm so glad I got to know you.  I will write as soon as I know he's not planning on murdering me in my sleep.  I hope you don't mind having a pen friendship with me."
    "Mind?  I insist!  You're a special young lady, Meg.  Don't let anyone ever tell you differently." 
    Both women had tears in their eyes as they parted ways.  A woman who had watched the two of them for a couple of days from the vantage point of the seat across from Meg, asked, "Was that your grandmother?"
    Meg laughed.  "She's my new friend I met just before we got on the train in Massachusetts."
    "I could have sworn you were related by how close you were." 
    "We were strangers a few days ago."  Meg frowned.  "I feel like she's always been a part of my life now, though."
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    Lars sat in his wagon, waiting for the train to arrive.  He was nervous, and he didn't want to be.  There was no reason at all for him to be nervous when he didn't plan to have feelings for the woman.  She would be a partner of sorts, a woman to keep his house, cook, and warm his bed.  Emotions were unnecessary between them.
    She'd said her name was Margaret, but he had no idea what she was like other than that.  He hoped she was pleasing to the eye as well as a good cook.  A good cook was more important at that point.  He'd lost a great deal of weight since his wife had died. 
    He frowned as he thought of Olga, thrusting her from his mind.  He couldn't think of her when he was about to meet his new wife.  It wasn't right, no matter what the relationship he would have with his new bride.
    The train pulled up and he strained, trying to see his new wife.  Only three people got off the train, two women and a man.  The man took the older woman by her elbow and led her off, leaving a young slender woman with long dark hair and dark eyes standing alone on the platform. 
    Lars jumped down from the wagon and approached her, watching her closely to see if she seemed to be looking for someone else.  He stopped in front of her, his heart in his throat.  "Margaret?" he asked.
    Meg looked up at the man in front of her, liking what she saw.  His hair was a darker blond than she'd expected from a Norwegian man, and his eyes were a slate gray.  "Yes.  You must be Lars."
    "Ja.  I'm Lars."  His voice was heavily accented with Norwegian.
    "It's nice to meet you, Lars.  My friends call me Meg."
    "Meg," he said, trying her name out for himself.  He'd gotten used to thinking of her as Margaret, so Meg seemed awkward.  "Well, Meg, let's drive to