“I thought love was lost to me. She thought love was easy. This Christmas, we’ll risk it all to discover what love truly means.”
Ray never thought he’d be searching for love again. Left grieving his late wife, Ray is determined to find a partner who can help him keep his children safe and his ranch intact. But with Christmas around the corner and a banker threatening to steal his land, Ray feels like he’s running out of time and options…
Nancy has always dreamed of true love. After losing her parents, she’s left alone and adrift, but she’s certain that love can heal her. When she sees Ray’s mail-order bride ad, something deep inside tells her that her future might just lie in the rugged West. But as Nancy arrives at the McAllister ranch right before Christmas, she realizes that love isn’t the winter fairytale she’d imagined.
With the banker tightening his grip on the town, Ray and Nancy’s future is hanging by a thread. Ray and Nancy must confront their beliefs about love and make sacrifices for their own Christmas miracle.
Belmont, Idaho
1870
Ray set down his pen to massage the bridge of his nose, hoping to somehow relieve the throbbing pain behind his forehead. It didn’t help.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, before checking the clock on the mantel. It read half-past three in the morning. Almost time to head out and start his chores for the day. The sky hinted at snow outside, and the wind howled around the house.
He had nothing to show for a night of writing except a pile of crumpled up papers and a half-baked start that was rough in every sense of the word.
Ray let out a soft groan, taking a moment to stretch out his stiff muscles before picking up his attempt at an advertisement. He winced as he scanned the page:
The words BRIDE WANTED ran across the top. Ray cringed over the ridiculousness of what he was trying to do. A mail-order bride ad.
When Quincy and Hannah found out, they’d be tickled pink.
That is, if they found out.
Who’re you trying to kid, McAllister? They’ll find out when some girl from New York shows up here in Belmont saying she’s your mail-order bride. The whole town will know in half an hour.
He kept reading.
A widower of ability, Belmont, Idaho. I am thirty years of age, a widower, with 2 children who are 6 and 4. I own a good-sized piece of property here in Belmont. Fair-sized cabin. Seeking a woman who can take care of the home and children, willing to work hard in exchange for a secure, stable place to live. Close to a growing town with a church, school, and other shops.
Did he need to add more? Maybe make himself more personable on the page? He needed this ad to go out soon. Haynes had told Ray he’d better have it finished quickly so it could be sent to the papers on the east coast before the first snowfall.
He went still when he heard a door creak, and then a small, trembling voice.
“Pa?”
Ray pushed back his chair and rose, just in time for a blur of a child to barrel into his
legs, their little arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
“Pa!” It was Darla, of course.
He sat back down in his chair and pulled her onto his lap, tightening his arms around her and hushing her gently. Sobs wracked her small frame as she buried her face in his chest.
“I want Ma.” She began to chant this over and over, her teeth chattering. He closed his eyes tightly, a lump abruptly rising in his throat.
“She’s not here, darlin’. She’s gone…”
“I know,” Darla choked. “But why, Pa? I miss her so bad.”
Ray’s eyes stung and he closed them. “Me too, sweetheart. Some things, only God knows.” Those last words stuck in his throat. Lately, he’d taken to wondering if God cared about him or his family at all.
It took thirty minutes for her to calm down and fall back to sleep curled up against his chest. His knees protested as he rose with her in his arms and he carried her back to the room that she and her brother Teddy shared.
He stepped back out just as someone started rapping on the door. His heart sank. Wonderful. Just when he’d gotten Darla back to sleep. He grabbed his rifle from where it leaned in the corner of the room and strode over to the door. He’d just crack it open—no telling who was out there at this time, grinding his teeth. So much for a good start to the day. Who on earth could be out and about at this early hour?
As it turned out, it was Isaac Prescott.
Ray tried to soften his stare but failed, nearly grimacing at the sight of the thin-as-a-rail banker who walked around all day every day looking like someone had just spat on his perpetually polished shoes.
“My apologies for bothering you so early,” Isaac reached up to tip his hat. Sarcasm tinged his voice and Ray’s irritation prickled. “I’m on my way back into town. You might’ve noticed I’ve been absent around these parts lately.”
“Well, you don’t say,” Ray muttered. If only you’d stayed absent. Nobody would mind too much.
“I’d just like to remind you that it’s Christmas next month,” Prescott narrowed his eyes, something acid in his tone.
Ray kept his features blank, though his face began to warm. “That it is,” he murmured.
Prescott’s mouth pinched, “You have until Christmas to pay your outstanding debts.”
Ray’s stomach dropped. “Pardon?”
Prescott smirked, and repeated the announcement, sadistic joy glittering in his eyes.
“That’s impossible,” Ray shouted, but then clamped is mouth closed. Well, he’d likely woken his children now, but his heart hammered as if it would come out of his chest, and his head spun. “I can’t possibly pay you back by then.”
“Well,” Isaac gave his coat lapels a tug, one eyebrow lifting. “What can I say? You can’t really blame me. I never received last month’s payment. It causes me to worry, you know?”
A chill went through Ray, his heart dropping like a stone.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he reached into his pocket to yank out the bank notes meant to buy a new coat for Darla. Hers was threadbare, and falling apart. But if he didn’t pay Isaac, they’d all be stuck without a roof over their heads. Stomach roiling, he thrust the money at Isaac, clenching his teeth so hard it was a wonder he didn’t chip a tooth.
Isaac didn’t stick around for any pleasantries. Once he’d got the money, he tipped his hat and left.
Ray sank back into his chair at the table, and picked up the bottle of whiskey in the center of it. He sloshed some into his empty coffee mug and drained it. He felt sick.
A month and twenty days until Christmas. He’d need to rustle up a good two-hundred dollars by then. But how?
October, 1870
Nancy waited until Celia had left their room. She pulled out the slim newspaper clipping from under her pillow. Lying on her back, she stared at the black and white photo of a man with long, black hair, dark eyes, and striking features. He wasn’t what she would call conventionally attractive, but he was handsome all the same. Full lips. An aquiline nose. She couldn’t stop looking at him.
She’d impulsively purchased the paper from the newsie on the corner down the street and carried it home. She’d read the ad beneath his photo at least a hundred times since she’d seen it this morning on her walk.
Taking in a deep breath, she laid the clipping on the bed beside her as she stared up at the ceiling.
Am I mad to even consider answering this advertisement?
She’d never seen anyone like this Ray McAllister. He had a kind look about him; a softness in those eyes that wrenched at her. And she felt for his loss.
To have lost his wife, and be left behind with two young children? She knew something of loss. Both her parents had passed recently, succumbing to illness, and the mere thought of them stung, causing tears to prickle behind her eyes. It was nearly Christmas, which was always a hard time of year to bear loss.
Someone knocked on the door and she sat up, the advertisement fluttering to the ground. It couldn’t be Celia. Why would she knock? Nancy crept over to the door and pulled it open, and found herself staring at none other than Aunt Moira.
“Ah! Nancy!” Aunt Moira glanced around, her nose wrinkling with disgust. “Quite an establishment, isn’t it?” she huffed.
Nancy tried to smile, though it was hard to when her aunt came around. Her stomach knotted with apprehension as she stepped aside and admitted the older woman inside her room. Aunt Moira looked around, her thin mouth pinched, her green eyes cutting. Her thin frame was wrapped in a thick wool shawl, and a hat that was probably imported from London sat atop her faded auburn hair. She began to sit down on Nancy’s bed, but apparently decided against it after eyeing the quilt suspiciously.
Mama made that quilt for me. There’s nothing wrong with it.
Nancy didn’t say this aloud, though. Instead she bit her tongue, waiting for Aunt Moira to speak. She wasn’t used to impromptu visits from the woman. Usually she sent Uncle Ned over with the small lump of money they gave her every month to cover her room and board.
“Well,” tutted Aunt Moira, crossing the room to the paint-smeared window. “I’ve come to ask you what you plan to do with yourself? Surely you don’t expect your uncle and I to pay your way for the rest of your existence?” She held out a small bundle of notes, which Nancy took, gritting her teeth.
“N-no.” She shook her head vigorously. “Of course I don’t.” Guilt pierced her. She’d tried to find the cheapest boarding house to live in once her aunt and uncle sold off the valuables at her parents’ estate. They’d agreed to support her, but they’d made sure to let her know it was a temporary arrangement.
“Well, then. What are your plans?”
Nancy glanced down, and the newspaper clipping with Ray McAllister’s portrait caught her eye, peeking out from under her narrow bed. Aunt Moira made an impatient sound — a click of her tongue — and Nancy closed her eyes. “I’m going to Idaho. To marry a rancher.”
Aunt Moira’s eyes went wide. “You’re what?”
Nancy straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin. “Yes, I’m going to be married. Out west.”
Aunt Moira lifted one thin brow. “I see. Well, I suppose it is for the best. When do you depart?” Something like relief flickered in her cold, green eyes.
Of course she wouldn’t try to protest. She doesn’t care if I live or die.
Nancy drew in a deep breath. “I’m not sure yet, but very soon.”
A smile spread over Aunt Moira’s face.
“Well, of course, you must come and see your uncle and me before you go. We should like to say goodbye.”
Nancy bit down on the inside of her cheek. “Of course.”
I don’t think I’ll waste my time. You and Uncle Ned haven’t invited me over once since Mama and Papa died.
Aunt Moira left a little while later, sailing out the door with one last reminder that Nancy shouldn’t leave town before visiting. Once she was gone, Nancy sagged against the door, closing her eyes. Why did she always have to be so impetuous? Something in her had balked at the idea of Aunt Moira — her lip curled and sighing — making it evident that Nancy was nothing but a burden without so much as saying a word.
Nancy couldn’t abide it any longer. She would have to go down to the post office tomorrow morning and send off a reply to this Mr. Haynes telling him that she would like to answer this advertisement. That she would like to be Ray McAllister’s wife, even if he was a perfect stranger and lived hundreds of miles from any real civilization.
Nancy flopped down on her bed, covering her eyes with her arm. What am I thinking? I truly am insane.
The door creaked open and Celia stepped in, her red curls flouncing as she hurried to her bed. Nancy and Celia had been roommates at this boarding house since Nancy’s parents first fell ill, and they’d been fast friends ever since.
“Oh, is something wrong, Nan?” she asked. The kindly concern in her voice brought a lump to Nancy’s throat and she sat up, willing away her tears.
“I’m alright.” She tried to smile. “Just…a little overwhelmed. I think I’m going to try and be a mail-order bride.”
“Mail-order bride?” Celia echoed, her blue eyes going round. “What do you mean?”
Nancy slid off her bed and stooped, snatching up the clipping from the floor. She waved it in the air before Celia snatched it away to peer down at the black and white photo of Ray. “I’m going to marry Ray McAllister. He is seeking a mail-order bride for himself. His wife passed, and he needs someone to help raise his two children.”
Celia’s lips fell open. “Nancy! You don’t mean you are really going to go west for a perfect stranger, do you?”
Nancy forced a wide smile. “That’s exactly what I mean.” For a moment, she considered explaining why exactly. Her aunt and uncle were tired of supporting her, they wanted nothing to do with her, and so she needed to figure something out or she’d be out on the street in a few weeks. She didn’t have any skills worthy of a seamstress job, nor did she know how to housekeep. She just needed to start afresh.
But it was more than that. Her soul craved something else. Something bigger. Bolder. She was perpetually haunted by Mama and Papa here in Washington, Connecticut. Every street, and every building — it all reminded her so much of them, and sometimes it hurt too much.
Still, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt to leave. She’d been born and raised here. Washington was a part of her blood.
Celia squinted at Ray’s portrait. “He’s certainly got an intriguing face.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t call him handsome, though. Are you truly going to do this, Nancy?”
“Do what?” Both of them turned to see Maureen, one of the girls who boarded across the hall. She had a thick Irish brogue and freckles scattered all over her ivory skin.
“Nancy’s going to get married!” Celia cried, waving the clipping around in the air.
Maureen’s eyes went wide and she flounced over, plucking the piece of paper to see it for herself. “Good heavens, Nancy! You’re going to be a mail-order bride?” She whirled on Nancy, setting freckled hands on her hips.
Nancy braced herself. “Yes. Yes I am.”
“I’ve known many a girl who spoke of doing such a thing. But never have I met somebody who actually meant to do it!” Maureen shook her head, handing the clipping back to Nancy.
Nancy bit her lip, her stomach flipping. Am I really doing this?
But as she glanced down at Ray’s photo, a warm sense of assurance washed over her.
“He has children?” asked Josephine, Maureen’s roommate. She was peering over Nancy’s shoulder at the photo as well.
“You’re going to be a mother?” Celia grinned.
“Well, somebody might have answered the ad already.” Though, Nancy hoped not. I pray I am the first one to inquire about it.
***
The next morning Nancy climbed out of bed bright and early. She dressed in a plain green dress that accentuated her eyes, pulled her hair into a simple bun, and pulled on a heavy coat to brace against the chilly weather outside. The windows were covered in frost now, and the sky hinted at snow.
She hurried down the boarding house stairs onto the street. It was just a short walk from the boarding house to the post office, and when she reached it, she hovered outside the door for a moment, bracing herself.
Go on, Nancy. It’s now or never.
Pushing her hand into her pocket, she ran her fingertips over the envelope she’d addressed to a Mr. Haynes, the contact given in the ad.
She pushed open the door and entered. Mr. Landry was behind the counter. He raised his head, and lifted his hand to tip his hat for her. “Good morning, Miss Thomson,” he smiled. “What can I do for you today?”
Nancy took a deep breath, and thrust the envelope towards him.
Mr. Landry took a look at it, and clearly recalled who Mr. Haynes was — the advertisement hung on a board behind him. His eyebrows lifted, and he cleared his throat. To her relief, he didn’t say a word. He simply took the envelope and told her how much it would cost to have it sent.
Nancy thanked him, paid, and walked out. Her heart thudded heavily in her ears as she strolled towards the small park in the center of town. It was situated on a square, with the town hall in the center, and was surrounded by quaint shops, businesses, and homes. From the center of town, it was possible to see the wharves nearby, where throngs of fishing boats sat in the harbor.
She sank down onto a bench and watched as people passed by. Thankfully, Aunt Moira didn’t appear. She was the last person Nancy wanted to speak to right now. She just wished she could talk it all over with Mama and Papa.
Nancy studied the tips of her shoes beneath her skirt. Perhaps she should pay her parents a visit. She rose and hurried down the street until she reached the cemetery on the outskirts of the town.
Her parents’ graves were near the back of it in a family plot. Many generations of Thomsons had lived here in Washington. Great-aunts, great-uncles, and grandparents.
Nancy didn’t stop at those graves, though. Instead, she paused at the tombstones that displayed her parents’ names.
Here lies John and Margaret Thomson…Beloved husband and wife, parents to Nancy.
Nancy’s eyes blurred as she sank down to her knees, and a tear strayed down her cheek. She bowed her head, choking on her words.
“I miss you both so much. But it’s time to start my life. Really start it. I know it isn’t what you would’ve chosen for me, but it’s the best I can do.
“If I stay, I’ll have to depend on Aunt Moira. And I want to make you proud. I want to make my own way.” She took in a shuddering breath, wiping away another tear that dripped down her cheek. “I need to do something. I need to find somewhere I belong.”
As she sat there by their grave, it sank in that this would be her first Christmas without them.
Celia had been born here in town as well, but she was engaged to a fisherman, and she’d once declared that she didn’t ever intend to leave. She’d stay here for as long as she lived.
Nancy wasn’t like Celia in this way. Never had been. She wanted more. She yearned for something like adventure. Something to take her mind off the grief.
She returned to town and tried to take her mind off the impulsive decision she’d made. Even if her application was accepted by Mr. McAllister, would she be able to afford to leave Connecticut? To make the long trip out west to Idaho?
Once she reached her room in her boarding house, she pulled out the tin she kept in one of the floorboards of her room and counted out the notes, trying to calculate if she’d have enough for the train ride. She’d put aside any leftover money from her aunt and uncle over the past several months for a time such as this. For when she finally figured out what she wanted to do. Counting it out, she figured she’d have enough to make it at least halfway. She’d use what her aunt had brought today to pay her last month of rent.
Sitting back on her heels, she closed her eyes.
You’re getting ahead of yourself. For all you know, the position could be filled already.
Nancy tried to not fret too much over it as the rest of the week slipped by. She stopped by the post office every other day, without any luck.
Almost a week later, she sat down to dinner at Mrs. Landry’s boarding house table and listened to the rest of the boarders around her chatter and laugh. It was like one big, mismatched family here at Landry’s Boarding House.
Just then, Maureen and Celia hurried home from their respective jobs for the day, and both of them danced over to where Nancy sat. Celia set down a folded piece of paper on the table in front of Nancy, and she and Maureen dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Mr. Haynes sent this over for you,” Celia told her. “Said it’s a letter from Mr. McAllister.”
Nancy felt herself turn crimson. She snatched up the piece of paper as the rest of the boarders at the table turned their attention to her.
By now, all of them had heard of her decision to answer the mail-order bride ad from the far west. So everyone fell quiet, excited whisperings buzzing through the air, as Nancy tore open the envelope and unfolded the paper.
I’m about to mortify myself when he writes he’s already found somebody. Or that he’d rather look for somebody else.
But instead, her mouth fell open as she read down the page. Only certain words stood out in her head, causing her mind to spin.
The last sentence of the letter stunned her.
If you decide to move forward with this arrangement, I look forward to meeting you here
in Belmont in two weeks.
Regards,
Ray McAllister
You just read the first chapters of "Christmas at the McAllister Ranch"!
Are you ready, for an emotional roller-coaster, filled with drama and excitement?
If yes, just click this button to find how the story ends!
Session expired
Please log in again. The login page will open in a new tab. After logging in you can close it and return to this page.
Can’t wait to read the whole book!!!
I can’t wait for you to dive into the rest of the story either. I hope you enjoy every bit of it!💘
Her situation is so common for this time frame. Her parents seemed like they were well off and should have money set aside for her instead of being ripped off by relatives. She should at least have some type of skills that she can take to the marriage. If she can’t clean house, she probably can’t cook and no skills to be a mother. I know I can’t hardly wait to see how this will play out.
You’re absolutely right—her situation is sadly all too common for that time period, and it’s frustrating to see how people take advantage of others, especially family. There are definitely some challenges ahead, but I think she’ll surprise herself—and the readers—with what she’s capable of.🙏
I’m looking forward 2 reading Nancy & Ray’s story!! It sounds so good! I already like Nancy!! Maybe we’ll see a Christmas miracle!
I’m so glad you’re excited to read Nancy and Ray’s story! Nancy is definitely a character you’ll want to root for. As for a Christmas miracle… well, you’ll just have to wait and see! 😉 I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I enjoyed writing it!💘