Charlotte's Mail Order Husband (New Montana Brides series) (2 page)

chapter Three

A New Determination

Clarence Hearne was the vice president of
the Majestic Bank in Baltimore. He was barely five feet five inches tall, and had the attitude found in many people of short stature. His black hair was sleek and shiny, and parted in the middle. It was heavily slathered in pomade; a fly could not have landed. It would have slid off onto his dandruff coated shoulders.

He stopped in front of Charlotte’s teller case, bouncing up and down on his toes, like
a popinjay. “Charlotte, would you stop by my office before leaving today?”

“Yes sir,” she replied.
What is this all about? I don’t know of anything I’ve done.
The bank closed at 4:00. The tellers had to take their cash drawers and ledgers to an officer of the bank. Both of the officers were men, and had been with the bank since it first opened. Nothing escaped their scrutiny. Charlotte and the other teller were not released until everything was tallied and balanced. Charlotte was meticulous in her transactions and rarely had any discrepancies in her books, and was prepared to leave at 4:45, when she remembered the summons to Hearne’s office.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Hearne?”

“Oh, yes I did. Have a seat, Miss Jenkins.” He squirmed in his seat, as he girded himself to carry out his plan. “Miss Jenkins seems so formal, don’t you think? May I call you Charlotte?”

“I prefer Miss Jenkins, if you don’t mind
, sir. I believe it to be more in line with the work relationship between our positions in the bank.”

More squirming.
“I wanted to talk to you about our relationship, as you call it. Miss Jenkins. I would like to call on you. Away from the bank, I mean.”

So that’s what this is about.
You slimy weasel.
“Oh, I’m flattered, but I don’t think it would be appropriate. My mother would not approve.”

“I’m sure I could convince her it would be most appr
opriate.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. Hearne. Now, I must go. Mother will start to worry if I’m late.”

As she walked toward the rear entrance, used by the employees after the bank closed, Helen, the other teller, caught up to her. “What was that all about with Hearne?” she asked.

“Can you believe it
?” “He wants to call on me “away from the bank,” was the way he put it,” Lottie said.

“He tried that with me last week. What did you tell him?”
Helen asked.

“I said it wouldn’t be appropriate, and my mother would never allow it. He said he was sure he could convince her it was proper.
The thought of him even touching me makes my skin crawl.”

“I feel the same way,” Helen said. “Unfortunately, I don’t know of any other work available.”

“That’s sad but true,” Lottie said.

She sat at the small table in her room, chewing on the tip of a pencil, while trying to formulate an answer to the letter from the Montana rancher,
Zebulon Parsons.

Dear Mr. Parsons,

I am in receipt of your recent letter. How beautiful Montana sounds, and life on a ranch sounds very interesting, albeit foreign to any experiences I’ve had.

The details of your
offer are more than acceptable to me. If I decide to make the trip, it would certainly not be my intention to wed another. Your sister has described you in terms that are glowing, and I have no reason to believe otherwise.

I believe I told you I work in a bank as a teller. I find the work interesting, though not so much as your life seems. A teller does the same thing
, day in and day ou,t with hardly any exception. That is until today. The vice president called me into his office and asked if he could call on me. I tried to be polite and professional in my refusal, but I fear it was not the end of the matter. I am not sure my position at the bank will be tenable much longer.

“My circumstances are such that I must work, and
while I could qualify as a teacher, it would be lower pay. That is enough of that. I have no wish to burden you with my problems.

“It would be nice if railroad service
was available all of the way to Helena, but as I understand it, the railroad has not made it into the territory. Your kind sister, on your behalf, provided me with the details of the journey and gave me the expectation of a three week trip, the major portion of which would be by steamboa,t from Saint Louis to Fort Benton, in Montana. One would certainly see a goodly portion of our country in that time.

“Mr. Parsons
… Zebulon, I have made the determination I would like to travel to Montana under the most generous terms you have proposed. How would we proceed from this point? I am embarrassed to say, I don’t have the wherewithal to purchase the transportation, nor does my family.”

“I anxiously await your response.

Sincerely,

Lottie Jenkins

The letter was mailed, and she resigned herself to the long wait before she could expect an answer.

* * *

chapter Four

A Trip West

Lottie visited Mary Tarleton after she had written Zebulon, giving him her decision. “Mary, I need some encouragement. I still haven’t told my family anything about what I’m doing. I am concerned with what they might think of me when I tell them. I mean what type of a woman will travel all of the way across the country to marry someone she has never met. It just has the sound of desperation.”

“Are you? Desperate, I mean?”

“I guess I am, a bit. That doesn’t lessen my concern regarding what people think.”

“Lottie, I can only tell you about the type of man my brother is. He is a kind, and thoughtful man. He is not impu
lsive. You can believe he has given a lot of thought to this matter and would not be trying it if he did not think it would work.

“It isn’t as uncommon as you might think. When the gold rush started, men flocked to the gleam of the gold.
Zebulon said there were thousands of men in the Virginia City fields, where he went initially, and they moved on to Last Chance Gulch after Virginia City played out. He said a lot of them went on to California. He chose to stay where he did because he liked the country and saw an opportunity there.

There is a newspaper called The Matrimonial News that carries nothing but advertisements for husbands and for wives. You know for yourself what the situation is here r
egarding men your age. There aren’t any. He asked me to help because he wanted more information up front; information he could count on.

“
Zebulon is a man of his word. He will do whatever he told you in his letter.”

“Thank you, Mary. I guess I’m just a worrier.”

“It’s natural for you to be worried. It is a big step into the unknown. I will give you a piece of advice. Unless you’re really sure, don’t take the step. It wouldn’t be fair to you and it wouldn’t be fair to my brother.”

“I guess you’re right. I think I need to talk to my mother
, even though I know it will upset her. I do believe I’m going to take the coward’s way out and talk to Martha. She is the sister closest to my age.”

“I think that is a good idea, although don’t be surprised if she doesn’t endorse it either.”

At church, she sat next to her sister in the family pew. “Marty,” she whispered, “Can I come over this afternoon. I need to talk to someone.”

“Sure, Sis.
You want to come for lunch?” Martha asked.

“No, Mama expects me home, and I don’t want to put you out.”

“Don’t be silly. Come whenever you feel like it. The kids will take a nap right after lunch, and it will be quiet.”

“Thanks Marty, I knew I could count on you.”

That afternoon…

“Okay, Lottie, what is this big secret you want to talk about?”

“I want to get married,” Lottie said.

“
Oh, is that all? First, you have to have a man,” Martha said. “As far as I know, you don’t have one.”

“Please don’t make this any harder for me than it already is,” Lottie pleaded.

“I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“Well…” Lottie said tentatively, and dug in her pocket to pull out the ad she had answered. She handed it to her sister.

Martha’s eyes widened. “You didn’t? Did you?”

“I answered the ad. It was placed by this man’s sister. Her name is Mary Tarleton. She lives near Locust Point, here in Baltimore. Her brother asked her to do the ad, and then talk to those who answered. She told me twenty women, including me, had answered, and she talked to all of us. She asked a lot of questions, as to motive, and hopes. She even had me read a passage from a book. She told me her brother was a man of faith when he lived here, but she really didn’t know about now. She asked if I had any questions. I did, and she answered all of them. Of the twenty, I was the only one she gave her brother’s address.

“She wrote to him, his name is
Zebulon Parsons, by the way, and told him about the interview. Being my usual impetuous self, I wrote to him myself.

“
She received an answer from him, and read it to me. Two days later I had a letter from him. She handed the letter to her and said, I’d like for you to tell me what you think.”

Martha read the letter twice. “I have to say, he writes a nice letter. You know, I’ve never received a letter. I don’t know anyone that lives outside Baltimore. Now, what do you want from me?”

“I would like for me to tell me what you think about him from what’s in the letter and what you think about what I’m considering doing.”

“He sounds like a nice person, but that’s hard to tell from writing. About the rest, I think you’ve lost your mind, but I understand why. In church, when you look around, you see women. There are younger men and older men, but none our age. I know you want to be married, and I know you want children, although
after seeing ours, I don’t know why,” Martha said..

“I’ll tell you
Sis, this may be the only way to realize your dream, unless you want to marry one of the older men or widowers.”

“I don’t want to do that
,” Lottie said. “That slimy Mr. Hearne at the bank asked me if he could call on me. I told him no, and I’ve been having a hard time at work since.”

“You haven’t told M
ama about this, have you?” Martha asked.

“No and I’m dreading it too. If I didn’t have a co
nscience, I’d wait until I’m walking out, and leave a note on the table in the parlor.”

“A conscience can be a royal pain sometimes. Lottie, my advice is to go for it. I will hate to see you go, and I will miss you.”

Lottie asked, “You won’t think less of me for having to resort to something like this to find a husband?”

“No, you didn’t send all the boys off to war. It’s not your fault. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You can do it.”

chapter Five

Mama, I Need To Talk To You

Lottie stood, walked to the window and looked out. She arched her back, and looked in the mirror. With a look of grim determination she walked from her room to the kitchen.

She said, “Mama, I need to talk to you.”

“This sounds serious,” her mother said.

“It is
. Mama. I’m going to get married.”

“That’s wonderful. Who is the lucky man? Have I met him?” her mother asked.

“No, but I haven’t met him either.”

“I don’t understand. How can you marry someone you don’t even know?”
her mother asked.

“Mama, there was an ad in the Sun about a rancher loo
king for a wife. I answered the ad.”

“You what?!” her mother said, carefully placing the ski
llet she was holding back on the stove. “Oh dear Lord, I need to sit down.

“What in the world were you thinking when you did this?” her mother asked.

“I was thinking this is probably my best chance at having a good life with someone my own age, and not one of these lechers or widowers.”

“What lechers? Who are you talking about?”

“That Mister Hearne at the bank, for one,: Lottie said. “He wanted to call on me, and ever since I refused, I’ve been having a hard time. I’m not the only one, either. The other teller has had the same type of problem.”

“How did you meet this… this rancher, you called him?”

“I haven’t met him. I met his sister who lives at Locust Point. She asked a lot of questions, and I asked her a lot of questions. I have had one letter from him and have written two. It takes at least a month after you mail a letter to get a response.”

“Well, I never heard of such a thing. I don’t want my daughter traipsing around the country
, meeting strange men and all. You need to go to confession, that’s what you need.”

“I probably do need to go to
confession, but not for this. I have not done anything wrong,” Lottie said.

“Father O’Malley should de
cide whether it is wrong or not,” her mother said.

“Father O’Malley has nothing to do with this, Mother.”

‘I want to have a normal life, and living with my parents at my age is not normal. This is exactly why I waited to tell you. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Your Papa is the one who will not understand,” her mother said. “His first born going off into the wilds to marry some farmer. He’ll be ashamed.”

“Papa should not be ashamed. He should understand. Anyway, Zebulon, that’s his name, Zebulon Parsons, is not some farmer,” Lottie retorted. “He was a miner, and he now owns a ranch. Anyway, he was born right here in Baltimore,” Lottie said.

“Don’t get sassy with me
, Missy. I’m still your mother.”

“I know you are, and I love you. This is something I want to do, and I will.”

Lottie’s mother cornered her husband as soon as he came home from his job as a stevedore on the Baltimore docks. Apparently his reaction was not what her mother expected because an argument ensued. She could hear her mother’s voice raised in anger. The last thing Lottie heard was her father saying, “I’ll talk to her.”

After dinner, her father came to her room, and asked, “Is what your mother tells me true? You are going somewhere to marry someone you don’t know?”

“Yes, Papa, it is true. Papa, he’s from Baltimore. His family is still here. I spoke to his sister. She talked to everyone that answered the ad, and she thinks I am the best suited for her brother.”

“Where does this man live now?” he asked.

“He lives in Montana. Here, I’ll show you on this map.” She pointed to an area. “This line is the Missouri River. He has a ranch, and raises cattle. The ranch is about here,” and she pointed to a spot on the map.

“You have to do this?” he asked.

“Yes, Papa, I think I have to do this. Sunday, when we go to Mass, look to see how many men you see my age. There won’t be any.”

“Lass, it hurts me in the heart to think of you leaving, probably never to see you again, but if you must go, then go with my blessing.”

She launched herself at him, and hugged him tightly. “You’re the best Papa ever. I love you so much,” she said. “What about Mama?”

“Your Mama will not trouble you about this.”

Her mother did not give up easily. She saved her next shot for Sunday, and for Father O’Malley.

The following Sunday:
Saint Anne’s Catholic Church…

Before Mass, Father O’Malley approached Lottie. “Ah,
“Charlotte, Child, I wonder if I might have a word with you?” Father O’Malley asked.

“Father, I suppose my mother has spoken to you of my plans?”

“She has, and your mother has a concern for your safety and well-being.”

“
Father, I have a concern for my well-being. Is not marriage something the church encourages and wishes for all of its children?”

“Yes, it is, but…”

“Father, look about the church. Do you see any men my age eligible for marriage?”

“Well, no but…”

“Father, I want to be married and have children. I do not believe I can do this here.”

“But what of this man.
What do you know about him?”

“I met his sister,
twice. We talked for two hours. Father he is from Baltimore, He left here four years ago.” She fired her last salvo. “In the old country, is it not common for a marriage to be between two people that have never met?”

“Yes, it is, but is this the same?”

“The difference is, the sister is the go-between instead of the parents, and this is not a matter of dowry, as it would be there.”

After his conversation with Lottie, the priest was co
rnered by her mother. “Father, were you able to get this nonsense from her head?”

“
A headstrong lass your daughter is. She has given this serious thought. She mentioned the arranged marriages in the old country. She does have a point about the dearth of eligible men for marriage. She also cited the church’s promotion of marriage for its children. Mrs. Jenkins, I’m afraid I cannot sway Charlotte in her plan.”