Winning The Mail-Order Bride

“I do,” Brett agreed. “And I appreciate it.” Shrugging, he added, “I don’t have a piece of paper handy.”

“That’s all right, just give me the gist of it. Abigail has a habit of reading any notes left lying around. Not that I’d leave yours lying around, but you know what I mean.”

Brett nodded and leaned closer to whisper, “I need to send a message to my mother, Henrietta Blackwell, in Bayfield, Wisconsin.”

Teddy nodded. “Got it. What’s it to say?”

“I want her to send me a woman willing to marry me. Right quick-like.”

“What’s the woman’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Brett admitted. “Whoever she can find.”

Teddy sighed and then nodded. “So you aren’t holding out any hope for Melbourne to produce the other women he promised?”

“No, but even if more do arrive, there’s no guarantee they’ll find me a suitable husband. There’re a lot of men to choose from.”

“Don’t I know it,” Teddy replied. “Think your mother knows two women?”

Brett didn’t want to push his luck but could understand why Teddy asked. “Can’t say,” he replied, “but let’s just start with one.”

“All right.” Teddy glanced over his shoulder again. “I’ll go send it right now. Abigail’s heading straight over to the reception. She plans on writing a special edition of the Gazette about the weddings.”

“I’ll head that way too—keep an eye on her.” Brett dug in his pocket. “How much do I owe you? I’ll pay extra, this being so urgent and all.”

“No charge,” Teddy said, “with the understanding that if your mother sends you a suitable bride, I have your permission to ask her to send one for me. Abigail and I don’t have any family we can ask, and she hasn’t left too many friends in the wake of our travels either.”

“Fair enough,” Brett replied, shaking Teddy’s hand. Rather than express his understanding that Abigail probably hadn’t left any friends anywhere, he simply said, “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as it’s sent,” Teddy replied, turning about.

Brett waited until Abigail walked down the church steps and then, keeping one eye on her, for she would surely question Teddy’s absence if she noticed it, he fell in among the crowd of folks making their way to the open meadow where the reception of all five couples was to be held.

There, he made small talk with several folks and ate a plate of food from the tables the women of the town had laden with kettles and platters to go along with the side of beef that Steve Putnam had provided to be roasted over an open fire.

Normally appreciative of every meal he ate, Brett couldn’t say he tasted much of what he put in his mouth. By the time he saw Teddy, who gave him a wave that said the telegram had been sent, Brett had had enough of the party and headed up the road toward home.

His mother would know exactly what type of woman would make a good wife. One who could cook and hopefully wanted a big family. Several boys for sure, but he wouldn’t mind a couple little girls either. Actually, he knew he wouldn’t mind the slightest if they were all girls. As long as he had others to share his home with, he really didn’t care. His businesses provided enough income to feed as many children as his new wife wanted.

He’d closed down both shops in order to attend the weddings, and considering most everyone in town was still at the wedding reception, there was no sense reopening them. Therefore, after crossing the railroad tracks, he rounded the big building he’d built two years ago with lumber brought in on the railroad from his family back home and crossed the little field to the house that had also been built with solid northern pine. Kansas didn’t have enough trees for all the lumber it needed, and after he’d left home, he’d let it be known his family had plenty of good Wisconsin lumber to sell and the railroads made getting that lumber to where it was needed far easier than it ever had been.

He’d set up plenty of accounts for his family’s business back home before and after he hired on the railroad and started looking for a place to call his own.

Not all the lumber in Oak Grove had come from Wisconsin, but a good amount had. Just last month he’d helped unload a train car full of Blackwell Lumber. It had been for the town, so he’d gotten a good deal on it from his older brother. The town was building a few small houses just a ways past his. Hoping to sell them to new residents. Ready-made homes were one sure way to bring in new citizens. That was what the mayor had said, and the town council agreed with him. Just like they’d agreed when Josiah had suggested building the church and the schoolhouse and sending money back east to have brides sent out here.

Done worrying about those brides, Brett collected his fishing pole from the tool shed and headed back toward the tracks that ran along his buildings. A mile south was where he was going. To where the cool water of the Smoky Hill River flowed westward, leaving enough moisture behind for a few trees to shade the grassy banks. There was no better way for a man to collect his thoughts than to spend a few hours fishing.

As he stepped over the first rail of hardened steel, he couldn’t help but remember the work that had gone into laying every inch, and the faint rumble beneath his feet had him looking eastward. A man could see for miles in this country, and though it was little more than a dot on the horizon, a westbound train was making its way into Oak Grove.

Knowing there was no need for him to meet it—there wouldn’t be anyone needing a blacksmith or chicken or horse feed, he turned his gaze southward and continued over the tracks and past the few houses that sat on the east edge of town.

Jackson Miller lived in one of those houses. He’d been lucky enough to marry one of the brides. Maggie McCary. Steve Putnam had married the other McCary sister, Mary. Brett had hoped he’d stand a chance with Maggie or Mary, especially after tasting Mary’s cooking. That was what he missed most about home. Ma’s cooking.

That wasn’t completely true. Although he missed the tasty and plentiful meals Ma always had on the table, he’d learned enough from her to cook reasonably well for himself. Leastwise enough to satisfy his appetite. What he really missed was having others around the table to share meals with him. Being one of eight kids, his family home had never been quiet. Not like his little house was. Quiet and empty.

He was tired of the quiet. Tired of being lonely. And when he was tired of something, he took action. Just like he’d done today.

The music from the reception faded as he walked on, and by the time he arrived at the river, the only noise interrupting the afternoon air was a whistle announcing the train had arrived in Oak Grove. He smiled to himself. Soon that very train would be bringing him a bride.

* * *

The shrill sound of the train whistle had Fiona Goldberg closing her eyes and saying a brief prayer. She’d been praying since they’d left Ohio, and one more couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t as if she was asking for a miracle, just a bit of comfort to settle her nerves. Then again, that in itself might be a miracle. She was rather frazzled. The train ride had been a long one, and the boys weren’t used to such confinement. Neither was she.

“Are we there, Ma?” Rhett asked with hope making his blue eyes shine.

“Yes.” Giving her trembling hands something to focus on, she folded his collar back into place. “This is Oak Grove.”

“Don’t look like much to me,” Wyatt said with as much disgust as he’d shown when they’d left Ohio.

Knowing there were times when it best served the purpose to ignore her seven-year-old’s attitude, she stayed focused on straightening Rhett’s collar. At five, he was looking at their move as an adventure rather than a necessity. “I’m sure it will be a wonderful place for us to live,” she said.

“I’m not,” Wyatt mumbled.

Fiona held her breath in order not to snap at her older son. All of their nerves were frazzled.

“Can we eat soon, Ma?” Rhett asked. “I’m mighty hungry.”

She pulled up a smile just for him and kissed his forehead. “As soon as possible. I promise.” Then she turned to Wyatt. “Gather the satchel from under the seat, please. And put your hat on.”

Wyatt grumbled, as he’d taken to doing lately, but did as told. By the time the train rolled to a jerking and squealing stop, both boys were seated beside her and waiting for the conductor to announce they could depart. If she could have found her voice, she would have told the boys to be on their best behavior, but her own misgivings about marrying a stranger—with two children in tow—had her throat burning and her eyes stinging.

Refusing to let her children see her fears, she smiled at each of them and then nodded as the conductor waved them forward.

Wyatt was the first one out the door, followed quickly by Rhett. As Fiona descended the steps, joining them on the platform, Wyatt mumbled, “Told you it weren’t much of a town.”

She couldn’t disagree, not at first glance, but she’d seen worse places. The town was small, but the buildings were nicely painted and the streets fairly well kept. The thing that struck her as odd was the lack of people. There weren’t any, and the stores looked closed.

“There’s the sheriff’s office,” Rhett said, grasping a hold of her skirt.

“It sure enough is,” a portly man said, walking out of the depot and toward them. “You’d best behave or you’ll be visiting it.”

Her spine stiffened as Fiona gathered Rhett closer. “Pardon me, sir,” she said to the stranger, “but there is no call—”

“Fiona Goldberg, I’m assuming,” the man said, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with a white handkerchief. “I’m Josiah Melbourne.”

Chagrin burned her cheeks. “M-Mr. Melbourne,” Fiona stuttered. “I apologize, I didn’t—”

“Recognize me? Of course you didn’t.” He stuffed the kerchief in his pocket and then pulled the lapels of his suit across his thick chest as he said, “You sent me a picture. I, in turn, did not send you one.”