Maple Sundaes & CIder Donuts Read online

  Maple Sundaes & Cider Donuts

  A Modern Mail Order Bride – Book 10

  OLIVIA GAINES

  Davonshire House Publishing

  PO Box 9716

  Augusta, GA 30916

  THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.

  © 2019 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin

  Copy Editor: Teri Thompson Blackwell

  Cover: Corbin Media, LLC

  Olivia Gaines Make Up and Photograph by Latasla Gardner Photography

  ASIN:

  ISBN:

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.

  Printed in the United States of America

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 10 9 8

  First Davonshire House Publishing April 2020

  Meet Evan & Leta

  Evan Eaton, Town Clerk, Meridith, New Hampshire.

  Age 40, Masters of Public Adminsitration, Columbia University

  Leta Feldman, Esquire, Insurance Attorney, Atlanta, Georgia

  Age 37, Foresenic Insurance Adjuster at Feldman and Associates.

  Also by Olivia Gaines

  The Men of Endurance Series

  A Walk Through Endurance: Olivia Gaines & Siera London

  A Return to Endurance By Olivia Gaines & Siera London

  The Art of Persistence By Olivia Gaines

  Intervals of Love

  Enduring Emily

  An Enduring Christmas – Winter 2019

  The Technicians Series

  Blind Date By Olivia Gaines

  Blind Hope By Olivia Gaines

  Blind Luck By Olivia Gaines

  Love Thy Neighbor Series

  Walking the Dawg: A Novella

  Through the Woods: A Novella

  Life of the Party: A Novella

  Modern Mail-Order Brides

  North to Alaska

  Montana

  Oregon Trails

  Wyoming Nights

  On a Rainy Night in Georgia

  Bleu, Grass, Bourbon

  Buckeye and the Babe

  The Tennessee Mountain Man

  Stranded in Arizona – September 2019

  The Zelda Diaries

  It Happened Last Wednesday

  A Frickin' Fantastic Friday

  A Tantalizing Tuesday

  A Marvelous Monday

  A Saucy Sunday

  A Sensual Saturday

  My Thursday Throwback

  Slivers of Love Series

  The Deal Breaker

  Naima's Melody

  Santa's Big Helper

  The Christmas Quilts

  Friends with Benefits

  The Cost to Play

  A Menu for Loving

  Thursdays in Savannah

  DEDICATION

  There comes a time when we must silence the noises in our head and take a chance on what will be. To all the dreamers, hopers, and those refusing to give up on love, this one is for you.

  .

  “Easy reading is damn hard writing.”

  - Nathaniel Hawthorne

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To all the fans, friends and supporters of the dream as well as the Facebook community of writers who keep me focused, inspired and moving forward.

  Write On!

  Table of Contents

  Meet Evan & Leta

  Also by Olivia Gaines

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Chapter One - Gemutlichkeit

  Chapter Two - Affability

  Chapter Three- Personalness

  Chapter Four- Geniality

  Chapter Five- Pleasantness

  Chapter Six - Agreeability

  Chapter Seven - Graciousness

  Chapter Eight- Civility

  Chapter Nine- Sweetness & Light

  Chapter Ten- Sunniness

  Chapter Eleven- Niceness

  Chapter Twelve - Kindness

  Chapter Thirteen - Cordiality

  Chapter Fourteen – Good-Naturedness

  Chapter Fifteen – Benignity

  Chapter Sixteen – Courtesy

  Chapter Seventeen – Mellowness

  Epilogue – Mellowness

  Meet Olivia Gaines

  A Note on the Modern Mail Order Brides

  Book Club Questions:

  Chapter One - Gemutlichkeit

  Nervousness overtook shaking hands as Leta Feldman entered the office address into the app for car service to Hartsfield Atlanta Airport. Today, if all went well, she would say "I DO" at three o'clock on the dot to one Evan Eaton of Meredith, New Hampshire, and become his blushing bride. Over and over she second-guessed herself until the day arrived, doubly concerned that all the pieces of the puzzle weren’t out of the box and one wayward piece would throw the entire image out of whack. As far as Leta Feldman figured, there would be no looking back from this point, leaning over the edge of the cliff, falling forward. The old apartment in Atlanta was cleared and the goods packaged and shipped to New Hampshire, which left only her physical form to get on the plane.

  The lease was up on the Lexus she loved to drive about the Atlanta freeways, but the crowd, hustle, and bustle of it all left a dry coating on her tongue. She had purchased a used Nissan all-wheel drive vehicle for her new life and added it to the shipment of goods. Talking about living life and doing it in loud and living colors were separate animals in two opposing cages. Life was a call to action and she had been summoned. Seated in the rear of the vehicle for hire, Leta's eyes ran over the screen of the phone, double-checking the flights to ensure she could board on time, but more importantly arrive on time. To save a few bucks on the airfare, Leta booked a flight into Portland, Maine, where she boarded a plane on a nonstop journey from Atlanta to Maine, arriving in less than three hours. Leta had reserved a rental car from the airport to drive over to Meredith and say the I Dos. If anything went wrong, or a delay happened, she would be cutting the timeline pretty close.

  Tight hands fisted and clenched, then unclenched, as the car came to a stop. Most of everything she owned was neatly packed, rolled and sorted in three very large suitcases plus one matching carry-on bag. How she managed to get two weeks worth of clothing in three suitcases, plus her tablet, make up, hair products, skin care routine, and sexy underpants in three cases, was an amazing feat. More than anything. She hoped her new husband liked her. Writing letters and talking to someone in person were again, two animals, dancing on different stages. She even hated the idea of eating maple sundaes and cider donuts, together, as a local dessert favorite, which also happened to be a favorite of her hubby to be. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept going to tonight. A wedding night with Evan.

  “Relax Leta, dang. You’re going to stress yourself out before you get on the plane,” she warned herself. Most of the drive to the airport was spent fighting off the competing thoughts to jump out of the moving car and run like a fool in the opposite direction.

  At some point between her home and the arrival at the airport terminal, she reined in her overwhelming thoughts, thinking she would want to get a small dog as a companion. Right now, Evan Eaton would have to suffice. She knew he was a busy man serving as the Town Clerk of Meredith and a part-time photographer. The images he had taken of the home they would share, the land, and lake were breathtakingly astonishing. A man with an eye for that much detail and composition should make a fine husband and companion.

  "Excuse me," Leta said,
pushing past the crowd waiting at the curbside. "I need to check these bags, please."

  "Of course. Right this way. Need to see your ticket," the sky captain said, almost snapping his fingers at her. "Tickets out. Have your tickets ready."

  He was a rude man in her estimation. She was the one catching the plane, not him, and it was clearly over an hour and a half before her flight. Leta tipped her driver plus the sky captain as the doors to her new life opened, ushering out the cold air of the building and mixing with the heat she brought inside. Smiling as her high heels clicked on the tiled floor of the busy airport hub, Leta made a beeline for security, checking in with little to no effort and skirting her way around slower passengers walking in the middle of the thoroughfare. Leta nearly danced, hopping onto the downward escalators to the airport subway cars, excited bodies flooded off the trains to make connections as anxious bodies piled on the train to make destinations.

  "This is it," Leta said excitedly as the doors closed. The calming voice came across the intercom announcing the terminals as the train slowed, dumping off more bodies before collecting additional people and rolling on as if it were not a moving statement on the plight of humanity.

  "D Terminal and the D Gates," the calm voice said. Leta, in the crowd of bodies, inched her way off the train to journey up the escalator to the departure gate. She had enough time to grab a bite before the departure, taking her time to savor the fried meal. She lost track of time, noticing the line forming along the walkway at the gate position. Leta paid her check and got to her feet. Moving at a clip, she arrived just as early boarding began. More aggressive people stood waiting and giving others the side-eye to get on board and be seated.

  "We're all going the same place on the same plane, which means we all get there at the same time," Leta said in a husky, low voice.

  A little old lady with stark white hair gave a half-hearted smile as if she wanted to take a running sucker punch at Leta's mouth. No one was going to ruin this day for Leta. It was the day she was getting married. Evan waited for her in Meredith, New Hampshire, and tonight before they made love, he would hand feed her a maple sundae seated on top of a cider donut, as he gazed deeply into her eyes and confessed his love.

  “The idea sounds better than the actual food,” she said to the little old lady, who didn’t care one way or another what subject Leta was addressing.

  An entire year of long love letters and only one phone call with photos outside of the one from the Mail-Order Bride agency had brought her to this moment. The first-class seat, while spacious, seemed cramped by the judging eyes of people passing through the aisles, looking down their noses at a black woman in the front row. Everything was going to be first-class from now on in her life. Leta Eaton, which would become her married name, was moving up in the world; no more back seats, sidecars, or honorable mentions.

  "I'm going to be Evan's wife," she said, smiling, allowing the tension to ease as the doors of the plane were closed, and the attendants prepared the cabin for departure. The week had been spent in such fervor preparing to take the life-changing journey from the four seasons of the south; well technically two—hot and not as hot—to a part of the country that got buried under snow six months of the year. Droopy eyes gave up the fight as weary orbs closed, dreaming of her wedding night to a man she had fallen in love with through his letters.

  THE MAIL HAD ARRIVED and landed on his desk in a pile of letters he didn’t care about openly. Evan Eaton waited in his office for the arrival of the mail-order bride. Today was the day. He honestly didn’t want to be married any more than he desired to have his left nut snipped off in a cigar cutter, but life didn't always give you what you wanted. He knew he did not necessarily want this, but he'd given it the old college try by doing things the old-fashioned way- courting through his words, and it was an effort rewarded with the arrival of a woman who would want to sit up all night and talk about her feelings. He wasn’t that great with feelings, or emotions, or other people emoting about their feelings. Evan was a doer.

  “She’s going to want to talk,” he grumbled to himself.

  A whole year he spent taking his time to ensure there were no misunderstandings. Meticulous word choices were selected to avoid the misuse of clichés and over-sexualized language. As a matter of fact, he had intentionally gone out of his way to write as asexually as humanly possible to avoid leading her on to believe the marriage would be anything more than what it was.

  He needed a wife and an heir in the upcoming year. Evan did not want to romanticize the marriage, and the match had been scientifically calculated, which increased the probability that he would be able to share the house with another person without wanting to run a hot poker into his eye. He also tried to pick her up at the airport. At least that way, if she got on his nerves on the ride home, Evan could make a U-turn and take her back to wait for the next flight and buy her a one-way ticket returning the lady to Georgia. Twice, he had offered to pick her up at the airport and twice she'd refused. This refusal, of course, made him all the more nervous.

  "Hell, I just hope she has all of her teeth," he griped, picking up her last letter. He sniffed the linen stationary, inhaling bits of hyacinth and jasmine, hoping she smelled the same way. One last look into his computer and he clicked on the image, pulling up her smiling face. Long dark curls hung down the side of her face, and crystal-clear baby browns stared back at him. She was a pretty woman with fetching eyes.

  He had had a lifetime of pretty and wanted sustenance, but at this point, he was a beggar, and he really couldn't be choosy. Four candidates. Evan had been through four candidates who either wanted to chat, meet up, or spend hours on the phone. That wasn't his style. Today was his last chance to lock this one in, get hitched, and produce an heir, and hopefully, she would want to return to her life, and he kept the kid.

  "At least that's what I hope," he said, looking at his watch. "Any minute now. Any minute now."

  The bride-to-be would come through that door—a couple of signatures on six sheets of paper, and they could walk across the hall to the judge. By 4:15, he would be a married man. He could keep his land for at least another six months as long as his wife conceived. He was the last Eaton. Technically, he needed an heir and a spare, but he'd take what he could get.

  In a few sweet moments, he would be getting what life had sent him to get. If nothing else, Evan hoped for a bit of Gemutlichkeit, a term his grandmother used to express a cordiality or friendliness between two people. If they could be cordial, the marriage could work, and besides, they lived in a small town covered in snow most of the year. There wasn’t much to do in winter other than making children and eat chili. He looked forward to welcoming her to Meredith.

  MEREDITH WASN'T A BIG town. During the summer season, hikers, men who called sitting by the lake taking a nap to be fishing, and other tourists flooded the area. Having one or two more unknown cars in town wasn't that unusual. The black SUV pulled up in front of City Hall. Evan watched the tall, statuesque black woman leave the vehicle with just one bag and walk with purpose into the building. The way she moved with such confidence drew him to the private show, as long legs marched her right into the building and the front desk.

  His heart rate increased when he got to his feet and walked towards the door, spying her, wanting to know more about the stranger, and hear the voice which he knew was going to be melodic. Chastising himself for sounding like a smitten kitten with a ball of yarn, he stood behind the counter. Uncertain if he were holding his breath or simply had stopped breathing, the door swung wide as she entered. Her presence filled the room, and he nearly sucked in all the air his lungs could hold.

  "Hello, Evan," she said. "We had a bit of delay on takeoff out of Hartsfield, but I'm here and ready to be your wife."

  "I've been waiting for you," he said with squinted eyes while his secretary watched with interest.

  "Let's see the paperwork. I know I have to sign a few things, then you said we'd go across the hall and se
e the judge complete the I Dos and then to have it all notarized," Leta said with a wide smile.

  Evan's thoughts ran amok as he flipped the folder around, he’d been eyeballing all day. There were lots of blanks on the page waiting for an opportunity to become official with a signature to give its life purpose. Leta asked for a blue pen, writing as she spoke. "Okay, Leta Feldman, bride-to-be, goes here," she said, looking up at her soon-to-be husband in approximately fifteen minutes. A woman stood at his side. "Yes, your name is in all the right spots. Excuse me. Shall you be the witness?”

  "Yes, ma'am, I'm Magda," the lady at the desk said. "I'm Evan’s, I mean Mr. Eaton's secretary. I guess you city folk call us administrative assistants."

  "Magda, both Evan and I appreciate your help," she said, looking at her about-to-be husband, whose facial expression hadn't changed. "Evan, again I apologize but we’re almost out of time. The Judge's office closes at four and the time is 3:45. Today is it, right?"

  "Uhmm, right," he said, looking over the paperwork and ensuring everything was in order. Stepping out from behind the desk, he offered Leta his arm and led Leta to the judge's chambers where they stood side by side, declaring to the town of Meredith, New Hampshire to love and honor each other in sickness and in health, until death they did part.

  "I now pronounce you man and wife. Evan, you may kiss your bride," Judge Harriman said.

  Leta's cheeks warmed under her husband's intense gaze. The gold wedding band inlaid with three diamonds she'd picked to represent the three children she planned to give to him over the years, but she'd explain that part to him later. Intense brown eyes met hers as he lowered his head, their lips touching together briefly as sparks shot through his body. Leta clung to him as if he were providing much-needed puffs of oxygen to sustain her life as his lips slanted over her mouth. The Judge clapped, Magda sniffled, and it was nearly a done deal.