banner banner banner
Accidental Family
Accidental Family
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

Accidental Family

скачать книгу бесплатно

Accidental Family
Lisa Bingham

Make-Believe MarriageWhen newborn twins are dropped on Charles Wanlass's doorstep – along with a note begging him to protect them – he knows he needs help to give them a proper home. The only solution: entering a marriage of convenience with mail-order bride Willow Granger. But soon the handsome pastor longs for their make-believe family to become real…Willow will do whatever it takes to keep her missing friend's babies safe. She's drawn to Charles's steadfast caring and honesty, but she's sure she doesn't have the proper background or courage to ever be a worthy wife or mother. But as danger closes in, she and Charles will risk everything to face down their fears – and turn their temporary home into a lifetime of love.

Make-Believe Marriage

When newborn twins are dropped on Charles Wanlass’s doorstep—along with a note begging him to protect them—he knows he needs help to give them a proper home. The only solution: entering a marriage of convenience with mail-order bride Willow Granger. But soon the handsome pastor longs for their make-believe family to become real...

Willow will do whatever it takes to keep her missing friend’s babies safe. She’s drawn to Charles’s steadfast caring and honesty, but she’s sure she doesn’t have the proper background or courage to ever be a worthy wife or mother. But as danger closes in, she and Charles will risk everything to face down their fears—and turn their temporary home into a lifetime of love.

LISA BINGHAM is the bestselling author of more than thirty historical and contemporary romantic fiction novels. She’s been a teacher for more than thirty years, and has served as a costume designer for theatrical and historical reenactment enthusiasts. Currently she lives in rural northern Utah near her husband’s fourth-generation family farm with her sweetheart and three beautiful children. She loves to hear from her fans at lisabinghamauthor.com (http://www.lisabinghamauthor.com/) or Facebook.com/lisabinghamauthor (https://Facebook.com/lisabinghamauthor).

Also By Lisa Bingham (#u414f7530-055e-5a51-8b71-df30f98db808)

The Bachelors of Aspen Valley

Accidental Courtship

Accidental Family

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Accidental Family

Lisa Bingham

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ISBN: 978-1-474-08253-2

ACCIDENTAL FAMILY

© 2018 Lisa Bingham

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity, which he hath given thee under the sun, all the days of thy vanity: for that is thy portion in this life, and in thy labour which thou takest under the sun.

—Ecclesiastes 9:9

“We should give the babies names. As their parents...we would have named them.”

Willow set her bowl aside and bent to touch the cheek of the littlest child. “This one is a girl.” She stroked the dark tuft of hair on the other baby.

“And this one is a boy.”

Charles reached out a finger and the little girl reacted instinctively, clutching it in her fist. He made a sound that was half laugh, half gasp of astonishment. “Our own Adam and—”

“Eva,” Willow interrupted. “Her name should be Eva.”

Charles grinned.

Willow had grown so accustomed to seeing Charles looking serious and reserved. She could scarcely credit the way his expression made him seem young and boyish.

Charles touched each of the children on the top of the head. Willow’s eyes pricked with tears. Other than her father, she’d never witnessed a man who was so tender and gentle. Yet strong.

Willow couldn’t account for the stab of disappointment she suddenly felt in her chest. This was a temporary situation. Once they’d found the danger to the children and eliminated it, this entire charade would be over...

Dear Reader (#u414f7530-055e-5a51-8b71-df30f98db808),

I hope that you enjoyed Accidental Family, Willow and Charles’s story. The book is a special one to me since I am the mother of three adopted children. Those of us who have found our families through this route have a deep love and gratitude for the birth mothers who have entrusted us with their children. I am so indebted to Melanie, Joy, and LaToya. As an adoptive mother, I know that our Heavenly Father takes great care in guiding all those involved in arranging these special families. I know that my own three babies were all miracles on Earth.

As a little side note, Charles’s character was loosely based on one of my own ancestors, my great-great-grandfather, James Wanlass. Much like Charles, my great-great-grandfather was an infant when he was left at the door of a foundling home wearing clothes too fine for his station. He was then given the name Wanlass because of a nearby windlass. Much like Charles, rumors surrounded his arrival—that his parents died in a carriage accident or that his mother died in childbirth and his father, a ship’s captain, left James at the orphanage, then was lost at sea. James left the orphanage as a teenager to work in the coal mines and then as an iron worker. He became a lay minister soon before emigrating from Scotland to Utah Territory where he became a farmer. It must have been thrilling for a poor orphan from Scotland to claim his own piece of land in the American West.

I love to hear from my readers. If you’d like to get in touch with me, you can reach me at my website, www.lisabinghamauthor.com (http://www.lisabinghamauthor.com), or through my social media sites on Facebook, www.Facebook.com/lisabinghamauthor (https://www.Facebook.com/lisabinghamauthor), or on Twitter, @lbinghamauthor (https://twitter.com/lbinghamauthor).

All my best to you,

Lisa

To my grandparents, whose “storybooks” were tales from their vast genealogical records. The histories of all those family members still provide a font of inspiration to tickle my imagination.

Contents

Cover (#uaf11066e-6897-5e9e-af2d-48f86cf00d5c)

Back Cover Text (#ue74bb0a4-9189-531c-b90f-e4cee0a69e9e)

About the Author (#u37f33f1c-979c-5aac-bf6a-673303a3b978)

Booklist (#u16411c6e-9eeb-51ef-ae48-72a37a318e18)

Title Page (#u055f06cd-06cd-566d-aeee-8f7cf013b9e3)

Copyright (#ua0361b05-083b-5c27-af61-e771ddebd9a2)

Bible Verse (#u0292d4b3-c714-5ef8-8cb6-a3f2ff2f6aef)

Introduction (#ub950fac0-16ae-5ab3-8611-2cf7ca13b0d3)

Dear Reader (#ue6c40236-885a-541a-8f6e-5d07d8c1a2fa)

Dedication (#ufb2078b1-de0c-5f7e-a9e2-74a070aebafa)

Chapter One (#u34efbd5f-41e1-517e-b62e-50dfdc96bd6e)

Chapter Two (#ue696126b-ec52-52c1-beb9-45f734bbf67e)

Chapter Three (#u0883275a-fbd5-5648-9695-4d5c717ffe2c)

Chapter Four (#u614e6dc4-d3ff-5fd4-8199-5d7893379993)

Chapter Five (#u48ce2efa-5d87-5e2c-b40a-b584d507ebd3)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u414f7530-055e-5a51-8b71-df30f98db808)

January 13, 1874

Utah Territory

Charles Wanlass waited until the sound of feminine laughter had dissipated into the darkness before stepping into the cold. He paused to ensure that the side door to the Meeting House had snapped into place. Then he hurried toward the miners’ row houses and his own quarters, the very last building on the left.

From somewhere deep in the woods, he heard a woman’s voice call out.

“Willow? Willow, where are you?”

The cry was soon followed by a burst of laughter. Snatches of singing.

Charles couldn’t help smiling. Normally, he and the other men in the Batchwell Bottoms mining community hated January. The merrymaking of Christmas was over, the wind had grown especially bitter and the nights were long and dark. With nothing to break the monotony but work, the days seem endless.

This year, however, the occupants of the little community nicknamed “Bachelor Bottoms” were more than happy to put off spring for as long as possible. Less than a month ago, a freak avalanche had closed off the pass, marooning a trainload of women in the valley.

And none of the miners looked forward to that moment when they would go.

“Willow?”

The cry was fainter this time, the giggling more disjointed.

Charles wondered what could have happened to separate Willow Granger from the rest of the group. She was a shy little thing, so tiny she could fit under his chin. Sober and wide-eyed. He couldn’t imagine what could have caused her to escape the Pinkerton guards who had been tasked with keeping the women away from the miners.

As he stepped inside and threw his hat onto a nearby table, he became aware of several things at once: footsteps running through the snow, a commotion of male voices, shouts from the center of town and cooing.

Or the soft mewling of a cat. Or...

A baby?

In that instant, he became aware of a basket on the floor in front of him. It was heaped with blankets. A note pinned to the top read: “Please, please protect my little ones and keep them as your own. They are in more danger than I can express.”

Crouching, Charles moved the blankets aside, revealing not one, but two cherubic faces.

Tiny. So tiny.

A surge of protectiveness rushed through him like a tidal wave, washing all other thoughts and emotions aside.

Almost simultaneously, he heard footsteps charging into his home. He placed himself between the intruder and the basket. To his surprise, it wasn’t a burly assailant, but one of the mail-order brides.

Willow Granger.

From the moment of their arrival, Willow had been a source of curiosity for Charles. Where the other girls were carefree and chatty—even giggly or silly—Willow stood out. The woman was reserved, seldom speaking in Charles’s presence. She had a mane of curly auburn hair the same bright red-gold as a sunset. Most days, she barely managed to contain it in a thick braid. Unlike the other ladies, her wardrobe seemed limited, a pair of shapeless dresses that obscured her figure—one for every day and one for Sunday best. And she was watchful. He wouldn’t doubt that those pale cornflower-blue eyes saw everything, even the contents of a person’s heart.

She seemed to sense that something was amiss because she peered around him. In an instant, she took in the basket, the babies and then the note. Before he could stop her, she snatched the paper from its mooring and read the words.

“Oh.”

It was a mere puff of sound, but it held a wealth of emotion—shock, concern, dismay.

Unfortunately, neither of them had time to ask each other questions, because a swarm of men were heading toward them—the Pinkertons, and close on their heels a group of miners, including Jonah Ramsey, the superintendent of mines, and Ezra Batchwell, one of the owners. To add to the confusion, the alarm bell near the mine offices began to toll.