Mail Order Love (Sweet Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Novel) (Oregon Mail Order Brides) (3 page)

Grammy had furnished the room comfortably. She had a worn old wooden rocking chair that she loved to sit in. For visitors there were four chairs and a fraying chaise longue, with patchwork cushions and soft woolen blankets strewn around. Embroideries of flowers, natural scenes, and wise sayings decorated the walls.

Grammy looked out of the wide-open window, far over the rolling prairie beyond.

She scanned the view. Out under the wide blue sky she could see a figure moving against the fields. Her grandson Jared was herding up the cattle valiantly on his horse. She watched as he sprinted on his horse and sharp-turned to get the cattle rounded.

He never stops, that boy. Constantly working all the hours God sends.

It was just her and Jared now, after his Ma and Pa had died in the great train crash fourteen years ago. Since the crash it seemed all he’d done was work.

It was a struggle to hold the enormous estate together on his own after his two brothers and two sisters had moved on to seek their fortunes. Jared did an admirable job, but in truth he was just about holding the place together, provided he worked long exhausting days without rest. He never complained once about it.

Grammy would cook up simple but hearty meals, big pots of stew that lasted for days. She hobbled around the house on her not-so-good legs and did what little cleaning and laundry she could manage in between naps. More often than not, Jared pitched in with some of the household tasks. Together, they kept everything going.

Grammy still worked as a seamstress when she could, taking in sewing and mending from the folks who lived in and around the nearby town. Her eyes were not as good as they used to be, but her skills were such that she could almost sew blind by feel alone.

Grammy also had a hobby that brought in extra income for the place. She bred Irish wolfhound puppies, the descendants of the dogs her husband had originally brought over from Ireland.

The two of them had emigrated to America all those years ago, to escape the collapse of their business and the tough times in Ireland. It was the best decision they had ever made, and with a lot of hard work they had established themselves a prosperous and happy home. Irish wolfhounds had always been there with them. They represented a link back to their past.

Noble and loving creatures, these dogs had the purest hearts and would die to protect their human family. They were in great demand around these parts as guard and farm dogs.

People had to make an application if they wanted to buy one of the puppies. Grammy would check into their backgrounds through her gossip network and find out their circumstances. Only if Grammy was satisfied that the applicants would make good owners would the transaction take place. People would send their servants from miles away to come and collect a puppy by train.

The wolfhounds possessed an uncanny ability to sniff out good from bad human spirits. Grammy adored the dogs, as did Jared.

“Come here, my pet. Give Grammy a cuddle now.”

One of the five soft wispy puppies reclining with Grammy on her sunlit bed bounded up to her floppily and batted her arms with his paws.

His new dark gray fur, though wiry to look at, was silky to the touch. He had brown, button-like expressive eyes, dark ears that flopped down in two velvet triangles either side of his face, and a little white patch of fur on his chin.

“Don’t spill my tea, you rascal! Come to Grammy, have a piece of my biscuit now, there’s a sweetheart.”

Grammy smiled and relaxed back in her bed with a sigh, enjoying the late winter sun and a little more relaxation before starting back on her sewing. Grammy had seen a lot of hardship in her life but she wasn’t one to dwell on bad times. She had too many other things to think about and there was too much fun to be had.

In a couple of days she would attend her weekly card game with the other local old folk. They met up mostly for a good chin wag, but they also liked to keep their noggins ticking over by challenging each other to a game of cards. No gambling, but Grammy didn’t refuse a glass of whiskey once a week to lubricate the brain matter.

Grammy’s eyes followed the speck that was Jared. He moved through the sloping hills kicking up a big cloud of dust as he rode his horse. He herded up those cattle well with the help of his two dogs.

Ah, he seems lost, that boy.

On the face of it, Jared was doing well, but Grammy worried for him and his future. She had watched as he had withdrawn into himself after the death of his parents. He had become quiet, and only sometimes would his cheekier, happier nature come out again.

He was working himself to the bone. He seemed content, and he was always gentle with a ready smile, but Grammy was the only one who knew how lost he felt inside.

He needs young company. Not an old one like me, on my last legs. And not those rough farm hands he hires. He needs someone light and pretty and lovely to make him laugh.

Grammy’s eyes drifted up from Jared to the sparkling blue sky where tiny violet-green swallows flitted and dropped. She watched them as they flew in arcs, curving through the air with perfect precision.

A wife. He needs a wife. He’s going to be twenty-three in a few weeks time. What a perfect birthday present. He’d never agree if I told him in advance anyway.

Grammy didn’t lose any time once she got an idea in her head. Women were few and far between in these parts, but there were other ways to get a wife in this day and age.

Her friend Grandma Allen from her card game meetings was an example. Grandma Allen’s grandson Joe had needed a wife to help him out on his farm. There weren’t any girls around who were suitable, so Joe had just picked one, right out of the newspaper.

They had adverts in there from women in the east wanting to start up a new life out here in the west. Mail order brides. The women advertised and the man picked one and paid for the woman to travel out here. God willing, all was well.

Grammy grabbed her newspaper and ruffled through it, searching for the adverts section in the back. The puppies thought this was a new game and pounced on the paper with their fat soft paws.

“Come along now pups, Grammy is choosing a lovely lady for our dear Jared!”

Grammy peered through her close work glasses as she squinted at the fine print.

Here we are. We are looking for a nice, good, kind-hearted girl to make him happy. “
Little bird wishes to fly away”?
What a darling, that’s want we want. A good housekeeper too. She sounds modest, not too full of herself. Reply to this advert number for a discreet communication? No sooner said than done, my dears.

Grammy picked up her quill and ink and reached for a sheet of paper. There was no point in hanging around. Her decision had been made and she was going to act on it right away.

Grammy had the letter written within minutes. Later that afternoon she got Mr. Allen to drop her in town and wait for her while she did her errands. She purchased the necessary travel tickets from Boston to Oregon, enclosed them in the envelope, and sent the letter out by the afternoon post.

Chapter 5

Boston, two weeks later.

Ellie had passed each day as quietly as possible. She had made sure she did not do anything to anger Ursula. Instead she kept her head down and tried to be invisible.

It had been two weeks since she had placed the advert. Still she had heard nothing. Ellie paused her mopping of the kitchen floor. Sweat beaded her brow and her body ached. Life was a never-ending drudge of household tasks. She held onto the mop handle and drooped against it.

Every day she would be up at four in the morning to start the fires in the grates. She would air and sweep the entire house then start on the washing. The other maid took care of Ursula and Martin’s breakfast as Ursula would not let Ellie use the stove, saying she was incapable. Ellie would go to the market to pick up the items written on the list. She would come back to wash and peel vegetables. Mop and polish floors. Beat the carpets.

The only high point in her day was seeing Briggs. At some time, usually in the evening, he would find a safe moment to seek her out and talk for a few minutes. Every day she would hang onto the hope that he would bring a reply to her advert from his daily trip to the newspaper office. Every day, she had been disappointed.

Ellie felt sick a lot of the time. She was still thin from her battle with typhoid. Although she had her appetite back, the portions of food that Ursula gave her were too small.

Ellie resumed her mopping, pulling out the strength from somewhere within. She just had to stick this out. The letter would come. Someone out there would surely see her advert and reply.

Ellie worried over the contents of the advert she had written. Why had she been so impulsive, writing the first thing that had come into her head? She should have waited one more day, found a newspaper and checked the adverts that other people had written. Then she could have written a more professional-sounding advert.

Why did I write “little bird”? That sounds ridiculous. No one is going to reply to that, they are going to think I am simple minded.

Ellie sighed and squeezed the mop into the bucket, the dirty water sloshing out and splashing her legs.

Just keep faith. It’s all I have.

She heard Ursula calling.

“Ellie? Ellie!” Ursula yelled her name as if it were the most irritating word in the English language.

She called back politely. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Come here now, to the front room!”

Ellie placed the mop and bucket to one side, smoothed down her dress and made her way along the corridor. What had she done wrong this time?

“In here, Ellie!” Ursula called from behind the shut door.

Ellie pushed open the door and entered. Mr. Gergmins was sitting there, smiling obsequiously. He sat upright on the chaise longue with his knees together and his hands folded on his knees. As soon as Ursula saw that Ellie had entered the room, she made to leave. Her voice took on a honeyed tone.

“Your
fiancé is here to see you, you lucky girl. Mr. Gergmins, let me know when you are ready.” Ursula swept out of the room, her long skirts trailing after her. She shut the door.

Ellie hardly had time to process this before she heard the click of a key. Ursula had locked her in. With this ill-reputed beast of a man. Ellie’s heart began to beat quickly and sweat prickled her palms.

Mr. Gergmins bestowed an oily smile on her. “Elizabeth, my dear, come and sit alongside me now.” He patted the space next to him.

Do not call me dear.

Ellie stood still for a moment before going to stand by the window, as far away as possible from her visitor. She strove to appear calm and measured even though her insides were coiled into a tight knot of fear.

“What did you come to see me about, Mr. Gergmins?” Ellie spoke in a confident voice, trying to appear brisk and in charge of the situation.

Don’t anger him, he might lash out. Be pleasant but distant.

Mr. Gergmins remained seated in the same position and twisted his head around at an odd angle so he could see her at the window. It only served to make him appear more monster-like.

“Elizabeth, I have been saying to your good sister Ursula that you are a closed book to me.
Hehgm …
how I am getting very impatient for our impending nuptials, and how I wish to get to know you better beforehand.”

Ellie was silent, watching him with disgust.

She’s not my sister, and no, you will not get to know me better. Not now, not ever.

He continued on with his speech. He apparently thought his words were perfectly reasonable and that Ellie should accept them without protest.

“Ursula of course obliged to arrange a little intimate time between you and I.”

His eyes became beadier and the skin around them tensed up, pushing his eyes forward to goggle at her. His tongue darted out to lick his lips like a snake assessing its prey.

“And here we are, just you and I. Very improper you could say … heh! But that makes it all the more fun for the both of us, does it not?”

And with that, he pulled himself up and crept around the pieces of furniture toward her. He was creeping along on tiptoes, in what he evidently thought was a playful manner. He stretched his arms out in front of him, quivering and ready to grab her.

Chapter 6

“Let me squeeze you a little, Elizabeth.” Gergmins must have seen the look of horror on Ellie’s face, for he added, “You will not try to defy me now, will you?”

Ellie could not believe the vision that was coming toward her.

Does Ursula really think I will put up with this?

“Now if you run,” Gergmins was sweating, his hair swinging around his face, “I shall chase you until I catch you. It shall be our game.”

Ellie’s whole body started shaking. She had three seconds before he would reach her. A wave of white-hot anger hit her with a crash, giving her the strength to fight.

Gergmins’ pincer-like fingers were aimed at her arms. “You will not! How dare you?” Ellie pushed at his chest. As he toppled backwards, she assessed her options in a flash.