Mail Order Bride: Christy (7 page)
Her heart ached at the thought of leaving him, that much was true. But Christy wasn’t sure whether that was just because it seemed like she was heaping grief on top of more grief, or whether she was just scared of being alone, or whether she felt genuine love for the man.
I can’t stay just because I am scared,
Christy thought.
Or scared about being alone.
But loneliness had never been a problem for Christy. She knew how to amuse and entertain herself, and with an imagination as rich as hers she was seldom lonely.
The thought comforted her a little.
Yes, I will be all right by myself. I can survive. And I can find a way to make it on my own, without Brent.
But it was at that moment that Christy realized: she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be without Brent. And it didn’t have anything to do with her being scared to leave. She truly didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave the man she had fallen in love with. But somehow this thought just made matters all the worse. Now Christy could no longer comfort herself with the knowledge that it was only fear keeping her awake. Now she knew it was sadness, a pure, rotten, awful sorrow that had overtaken her whole body. She didn’t want to leave.
Christy cried and cried till eventually, there were no more tears, and nothing for her exhausted body left to do but sleep. The candle burning brightly beside her bed, foundered for a moment, then the flame drew higher. A breeze from the window fanned it higher still, and pushed the tip of it towards the edge of the letter lying in Christy’s hand.
And so, with that letter still hanging from her fingers, Christy fell into a deep sleep, that nothing, not even fire, could wake her from.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Brent
Brent was not having a good night’s sleep on the living room floor. He tossed and turned as he tried to get comfortable. Finally he pushed the blankets back and gave up altogether. “In a way I will be glad when Christy is gone and I can get my bed back,” he murmured quietly to himself.
But even as he said the words Brent knew he didn’t truly mean them. And he knew that his trouble sleeping had nothing to do with the hard floor and everything to do with his sorrow and regret — he didn’t want to see Christy off in the morning and he had no idea how to set the matter right.
Brent sighed and stood up. He stretched and decided to go outside to get some fresh air.
Perhaps that will clear my head,
he thought as he crept out the back door, being careful not to wake Christy as he pulled the door shut silently behind him.
Brent walked down to the back of the field, stopping at last to lean against the fence as he gazed up at the moon.
This was supposed to be my second chance,
Brent thought.
I prayed for it, and God placed the opportunity right in my hands, sending me a woman as good and as sweet and as beautiful as Christy, and all I have done is respond with ungratefulness.
Brent felt properly ashamed as he stood there in the moonlight.
Please God, I know that I have already used up more than my share of chances, but please give me this last opportunity to make things right with Christy.
Brent stopped praying as he smelt the distinctive scent of burning. He turned his head around sharply and noticed smoke coming from the farmhouse. For a moment Brent stood there dumbstruck, wondering if Christy might have lit a fire, or was perhaps attempting to cook another meal. Brent shook his head. “Oh no!” he called out as he realized what was happening. The farmhouse was on fire.
Brent sprinted back to the house, scolding himself for leaving. He raced through the back door and sprang into the bedroom. Coughing, he covered his mouth with his neck kerchief and waded through the smoke-filled room. He grabbed Christy, who was still sleeping in her bed and carried her over his shoulder out of the house. When he was far enough away from the house, he lay Christy down in the grass.
“Wait there my darling,” he said before he raced into the house. Grabbing his blanket from the living room floor, Brent ran over to the fire in Christy’s’ bedroom and smothered it with the fabric. The fire had not spread to any other part of the house yet and was extinguished after a few moments. Brent coughed as he waved the smoke away from his face and surveyed the damage. Thankfully, little harm was done.
He prayed a quick prayer of thanks to God for allowing him to be awake and to see the fire when it started. He shook his head thinking of what might have been, if he had fallen asleep as he had intended to. Brent stood and hurried back to Christy. To his dismay Christy was still lying lifeless in the grass.
“Oh no…” Brent murmured. “Please God no.”
He ran to her and dropped to his knees besides her still body. “Christy!” he called out, rocking her body gently. When there was still no response he rocked her with more force, crying out for her to wake up. “Oh, I should never have left you alone!” Brent cried. He thought about how he had prayed for another chance with Christy — that now seemed hopeless. He’d been so stupid to hope.
Brent pulled Christy up into his arms and held her close. He realized he could still feel her heart beating.
“Perhaps there’s hope yet,” Brent whispered, reaching down to stroke Christy’s cheek. “Please my darling, wake up.”
Christy’s eyes sprung open and she gazed up at Brent, wondering why on earth he was looking so troubled. She coughed heartily, and smiled up at him. “Brent, whatever is the matter?” she asked. Then, confused, she rubbed her eyes and looked around. “And what on earth am I doing outside?”
“Don’t worry Christy, you’re all right now.”
Christy looked down and saw the ash on her night gown. She turned her head in alarm to look at the house. “Oh no,” she gasped. “The house.”
“The house is fine Christy. There was a fire in the bedroom. You were unconscious.” Brent’s voice almost broke as he told Christy what had happened. “Christy I was so scared I was going to lose you.”
Christy gazed up at Brent. She touched his cheek, stroking the strong outline of his jawbone. Brent leaned closer to her, he could feel her breath warm against his face and his heart began to pound in his chest.
“Christy, could you ever love me, do you think?” he whispered urgently, gazing down at her plump lips.
Christy grinned up at him, her eyes gleaming. He could stand it no longer, and pulled her head towards him, his lips seeking hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christy
Christy couldn’t believe it was finally happening, her first kiss. They were lying in the middle of a field under a dark starry sky, and Brent was cradling her in his strong arms. His lips were warm and soft, and they pulled gently at her own. Christy returned his kiss and felt him respond with greater urgency. A tingling sensation started with her lips and spread all the way down her neck to her chest and stomach and down her legs. She moaned with pleasure and he pushed himself against her, his muscular arms wrapping around her and holding her tight.
They each pulled away, breathless.
“Brent,” Christy whispered. “I’ve never kissed a man before.”
Brent reached down and stroked her cheek. “I hope it was everything you imagined it to be Christy,” he murmured.
“It was so much more wonderful than anything I could have dreamed of.”
Brent helped Christy to her feet. He placed his hand at the side of her head, stroking her hair. “Christy, would you ever consider staying here? Staying here and being my wife? Can you forgive me for even wanting to send you away? Now I can’t imagine ever letting you go.”
Christy pressed her face close to his and nodded. “Of course,” she whispered. “Of course I want to stay. It’s all I want.” She closed her eyes as she felt his breath against her cheek. “But do you think you can ever come to love me truly, Brent?”
Brent pulled back and looked at Christy in dismay. “I already do my darling.”
Christy nodded and gazed into Brent’s blue eyes, seeing the love that lay in them. “I feel the same way.” He grinned widely, and pulled her close to him, one hand on the small of her back, the other cupping her face in his palm. He pulled Christy toward him again, and their lips pressed together, for a second kiss. This time the kiss was filled with love and tenderness and sent Christy’s head spinning. She knew now that this was her home and she never wanted to leave.
The End
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About the Author
Vivi Holt lives in beautiful Brisbane, Australia. Growing up on a farm she learned to love the country life and now she writes about it in her books. History has always fascinated Vivi as well, and so writing historical romance was a natural progression. Vivi loves horse riding, hiking, and reading, and is a wife and mother to three young children.
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