Mail Order Mama (Brides of Beckham Book 2) (2 page)

Harriett stood and moved across the room to where Emily stood in the hall.  Emily noted her movements were graceful despite a pronounced limp.  She held her hand out.  “It’s nice to meet you, Emily.  I’m Harriett Long.”

“I came about your advertisement in the paper,” Emily blurted out quickly as she shook Harriett’s hand.

Harriett’s smile brightened her entire face and made her eyes twinkle with laughter.  “I presumed as much.”  She turned to the butler.  “Would you bring some tea and cookies, Higgins?”

“Right away, Ma’am.”  He left them alone, quietly closing the door behind him.

“Come and sit with me.  We’ll talk, and I’ll see if I can find a man who would suit you.”  Harriett waited until Emily was seated before continuing.  “What made you decide to come to me?”

Emily let out a heavy sigh.  “It was never my plan to be a mail order bride.”  She looked into Harriett’s green eyes as she spoke, finding them warm and full of laughter.  “I’ve lived with my mother my entire life.  My father was killed in the war.”  At Harriett’s nod, she continued, determined to get the full story out.  “My mother and I are extremely close, and as she never remarried, I’ve been working and contributing to the household income for the last three years since I finished my schooling.” 

“How old are you now?”  Harriett pulled out a piece of paper to jot down notes on what Emily told her.

“I’m twenty.”  She waited until Harriett wrote something down and returned her attention to her before adding, “My mother has been seeing a man for the last several months.  He’s her first beau since my father died.”  Emily rubbed the back of her neck, the strain of the last day obvious in her stature.  “Last night she came home and told me he’d asked her to marry him.  I’m thrilled for her, of course.  She deserves to be loved.”

“Of course.”  Harriett watched her carefully as if she were waiting to hear why she was stating the obvious.

“But her fiancé doesn’t wish to have me living in the home with them once they’re married.  He feels there wouldn’t be enough privacy if I were there, which I understand completely, but it does leave me out in the cold.”  Emily tried her best not to sound hurt by the situation, but she realized she was in a way.  She didn’t want her mother to choose her over William, but she did want her to think she was important enough to consider.

Harriett nodded.  “Yes, that’s more than a bit of a bind they’re leaving you in.  You said you’ve worked for the past three years?  What do you do?”  Harriett seemed to be genuinely interested in Emily’s answers for more than just business reasons which made her much easier to talk to than most people.

Emily let out a half laugh.  “I work as a cook, but often I’m expected to clean and take care of the children of the household as well.”

Harriett raised an eyebrow.  “And you’re paid extra for those tasks?”

“Of course not.  I’m paid as a cook, nothing more.”

“I see.  Do you enjoy working with the children?”

Emily nodded.  “I do enjoy them, but they make my job a great deal harder.”  She explained the messes they’d made during the long day and how many times she’d had to mop the floor.  “If all I had to do was mind the children, I wouldn’t mind so much, but my employer enjoys giving dinner parties.  She gave one tonight, in fact.  So while I was cooking for her party, I was minding the children who were destroying the kitchen.”

Harriett smiled.  “I suppose that would explain the flour in your hair.”

Emily groaned running a hand across the top of her head, messing up her severe bun.  “I should have checked my appearance before I came.  I’m so sorry Mrs. Long.”  Emily was embarrassed to be seen by anyone with flour in her hair.  She usually checked her appearance before leaving work, but she’d been in a hurry to go to Rock Creek Road and start working toward becoming a mail order bride.

“It’s not a problem.  If you were a wife there would be times when your husband would come home and there would be flour in your hair.  You’re interviewing to be a wife.”  She turned to the desk she was sitting in front of and quickly looked through the letters in front of her.  “I put an advertisement in a few papers out West thinking I would get enough responses to place the five women I had available for marriage.  I received twelve letters in response.  I found one other young lady to send, but you, my dear, are a godsend.”  She obviously found what she was looking for and held up a letter.  “I think this is the letter for you.”  She handed it to Emily and invited her to open it, making a few more notes as she waited for Emily to read it.

Unfolding the single page of paper, Emily read the letter.  “Dear Potential Bride, I’m a single father of two daughters aged four and six.  Their names are Georgie and Abbie.  My wife died of scarlet fever a couple of months ago, and I admit, I’m frantic trying to keep my household together.  My daughters are insisting I put several things in this letter, so here is what they require in their mail order mama.  She must be able to cook more things than bacon, and must never serve a bacon sandwich for supper.  She must love children, especially daughters, and enjoy reading to them at night.  She must know how to sew pretty dresses and fix hair ‘just so’.  She must be able to smile even when her new daughters make a mess.  She must like to bake and enjoy picnicking and walks in the woods.  On my part, I’m looking for a wife who will be willing to take on the duties of motherhood and be a good wife.  I would not dream of finding a new wife so quickly if my daughters were not so badly in need of a new mother.  I would like to have a wife who would occasionally be willing to help out in the mercantile store I own here in Live Oak, Minnesota.  If you think you can be all of that to three very lonely people who need a good woman in their lives, please respond.  I am twenty-eight years old, and would like a woman who is at least twenty, but not more than twenty-five.  My daughters and I await your response.  My best, Benjamin Johnson.”

Emily looked up when she was finished to find Harriett watching her.  “What do you think?”

Emily nodded slowly.  “They sound like the kind of family I could be content with.  I think.”  She bit her lip considering her situation.  “So what now?  I just write them a letter?  Do I write it through you?  Do I have to pay you to help me?”

“No, you don’t pay me.  There’s a small fee for the gentleman requesting a wife, but nothing for the bride.  You write a letter here, or you go home and write a letter and bring it to me to mail.  All correspondence will go through me.  What’s our time frame?”  At Emily’s blank stare, she asked, “When is your mother getting married.”

“Oh!  I was lost in my thoughts thinking about the Johnson family.  My mother’s getting married in two months, so I need to be ready to leave before then.”  She knew it wasn’t much time and she bit her lip wondering how Mrs. Long would react to the rushed time frame.

“We can make that happen.  Why don’t we write your letter together, and I’ll mail it off for you.  So many times, women forget to include pertinent details, and they kick themselves later.  I have a list of things I try to make sure every letter includes, so it would be easier to do it here.  The more complete your first letter is, the faster we can get you married.”

Emily was relieved.  She wasn’t sure she could think of everything she needed to say without help, so she was thrilled to be able to do it with Harriett.  Harriett handed her a piece of paper and a pen, so she quickly wrote, “Dear Benjamin, Abbie and Georgie, I enjoyed reading your letter.  I have never served a meal of bacon sandwiches in my life, and I work as a cook for a living.  Rest assured you will have a variety of food if you choose me to be your new mama.”  She looked up and read what she’d written aloud.

Harriett smiled and nodded.  “That’s good.  Answer their direct questions and requirements first, and then you can go on and add the other pertinent details.  You finish that part, and let me know when you need help with the things you need to include.”

Emily dipped her pen in the inkwell, then put the pen to paper and wrote, “I love reading to children, especially girls, at any time of day, and I’m sure that will translate well to daughters, although I’ve never had one and can’t be absolutely certain about that.  I’m an adequate seamstress and know exactly how a little girl’s hair should look, so there are no problems there.  I expect children to make a mess, because if they couldn’t make messes, they couldn’t learn.  I love to bake, and enjoy both picnicking and walks in the woods, although I’ve not had a lot of time for either in my busy life.  I’m very sorry to hear about the loss of your wife.  I lost my father at a very young age and know from personal experience how hard it is to grow up with only one parent.  I’m more than willing to help out in a mercantile and would enjoy it immensely.  I am twenty years old, and my name is Emily Hughes.  I live with my mother in Beckham, Massachusetts.  I’ve never been to Minnesota, or anywhere outside of Massachusetts, but would like to go there.”  When she was finished writing, Emily read the letter she’d written to Harriett.  “What else should I add?”

“You want to tell them what you look like, and what interests you.  Ask if they have any pets or anything else you want to know about them.”

Emily nodded and wrote quickly, “I am a short woman with auburn hair and blue eyes.  I enjoy reading when I have time and taking walks to enjoy nature.  What do you like to do as a family?  What are the girls interested in?  Are there any other questions you have for me?”  Again, she read what she’d written aloud. 

Harriett smiled.  “I think that’s perfect.  Sign it and I’ll send it off with the mail tomorrow.  We’ll expect a response in a month or so.”  She squeezed Emily’s hand.  “If we don’t have you married off before your mother needs you out of the house, you can stay here for a few days, but I do believe we’ll have you on a train for Minnesota within the next two months.”

Emily stood.  “Thank you for the cookies and tea and for your time.  I appreciate you helping me.”

Harriett stood as well.  As Emily watched her slowly gain her feet, she wondered again about the limp.  It would be impolite to ask, though, so she brushed it off and headed for the door.  Harriett saw her out.  “Come see me in three and a half weeks and we’ll talk about where to go from there.”

Emily left the house and headed for home, her heart filled with trepidation.  She needed to focus on the idea of being a mother to two little girls who needed her and helping her mother by leaving.  She needed to do her best not to think about the fact she’d be marrying a man she’d never met.  She couldn’t think about that.  The family did seem like a good one, and she only hoped she could find the courage to go through with the plans she’d set into motion. 

Chapter Two

Benjamin smiled as he gave Mrs. Anderson her change.  “Thanks for coming in Mrs. Anderson.”

“Where else would I go?  You’re the only mercantile in town!”  Mrs. Anderson was a straight-shooting woman in her mid-seventies.  Benjamin was always glad to see her, because it meant her arthritis wasn’t acting up too much for her to walk to the store.  Sometimes, she would send a messenger over with her list and Benjamin would deliver it when he got off work for the day.

“You could always drive to St. Paul.”

She shook her head.  “My bones are too old for that, Benjamin.  I’ll walk right over here to your mercantile any day of the week.” 

“You look just as spry as ever, Mrs. Anderson.  If I didn’t know how much you loved Mr. Anderson, I’d ask if I could come calling.”  He gave her a slow wink to punctuate his words.  He’d learned early on that flirting with his elderly customers helped them to come back, and he genuinely liked Mrs. Anderson.  She never gossiped and was always pleasant to be around.

She chuckled.  “You’re a naughty boy, Benjamin.”  She leaned heavily on her cane as she walked toward the door, her shopping basket tucked over her arm.

The bell on the door tinkled, and they both turned to see who was coming into the store.  “
Mor
, are you coming to keep my daughters and me from starving to death?”

Mrs. Anderson smiled and nodded at Ingrid Johnson.  “You need to watch this silver-tongued boy of yours, Ingrid.  He’s been flirting with me, and here I am, old enough to be his grandmother.”  She walked slowly out the door and waved over her shoulder to Benjamin as she left the store.

Ingrid smiled at her son.  “I brought some bread and a big pot of stew for you and the girls for supper.  It’s enough for two nights, so make it stretch.”  She held up a letter.  “Who is this Harriett Long who is writing to you from Massachusetts?  What are you hiding from me?”  She said the words as if they were a joke, but he could tell by the narrowing of her eyes, she was serious.

Benjamin sighed.  He’d hoped to put off this discussion for longer, but what could he do?  “I’ve sent off for a mail order bride.  The girls need a woman around the house, and I don’t have it in me to try and court someone right now.”

“But what about Kristen?  I talked to her about you, and she’s willing to have you call on her.”  Kristen was a local Norwegian girl who lived a few miles out of town.  Benjamin had known her all his life, and simply wasn’t interested in her.  She was nice enough, but he wasn’t attracted to her. 

“I’m sorry,
Mor. 
I don’t think she’s what I’m looking for.”  He held his hand out for the letter.  How could he explain to his mother that Kristen was too much like Anna?  He didn’t want to be married to someone who would remind him of his dead wife for the rest of his life.

“So you’re willing to just gamble someone who you don’t even know will be a good mother to my grandbabies?” 

“It’s my life, and it’s my decision.  I’m their father.  May I please have my letter?”  His empty hand was still hanging in the air waiting.

She slapped it into his hand.  “Don’t you come crying to me when she turns out to be an awful woman who doesn’t even know how to cook a simple Norwegian dish.  Why you’d send for a mail order bride is simply beyond me.  Kristen is just perfect and she’s only a few miles away.”  She mumbled something to herself as she headed for the door.  He was thankful he couldn’t hear what it was.  “I’ll put your stew and bread in your house and spend a little time with my girls.”  The door slammed behind her, leaving him in no doubt about how she felt about the letter in his hand. 

He slipped the letter into his pocket without reading it.  He wanted to read it with the girls so they could all make the decision together.  Their opinion on the matter was just as important as his.  If he read it before he arrived home, he could make up his mind and be disappointed if they didn’t agree with him.  No, it would affect them all, and they’d decide as a family.

After closing up shop for the day, Benjamin slipped out the back to the house he shared with the girls.  He could smell the pot of stew cooking and inhaled deeply.  His
mor
wasn’t perfect, but she was a wonderful cook, and he was fortunate to have her.  “Girls!  I’m home!”

The girls came running to see him each hugging him tightly.  “
Farmor
came and brought supper.  We don’t have to have bacon sandwiches tonight!”  Georgie was bouncing up and down. 

Benjamin smiled.  “Maybe we’ll be done with bacon sandwiches soon.”  He pulled the letter out of his pocket.  “Look what came in the mail today.”

“Is it from our mail order mama?” Abbie asked.

Benjamin nodded.  “At least it’s from someone who wants to be our mail order mama.  We’ll read it after supper and see if she’ll suit us.  Who’s hungry?”

The girls quickly set the table while Benjamin served them each a bowl of stew and cut up the bread. 

Once he’d done the supper dishes, they all sat at the table together to listen to Benjamin read the letter.  The girls interrupted repeatedly as they liked what was said.  “She’s a cook, Papa.  No more bacon!”  Georgie couldn’t get past the idea of having a mother who would cook for them.

“She likes to read
and
go for walks.  Oh, Papa.  Let’s marry
her
!” Abbie insisted.

Once he was done, he set the letter down, his mind racing.  If he sent her train tickets with this letter, she could be there in as little as three weeks.  Two weeks for the letter to get to Beckham, a few days to prepare, and a five day train ride.  He’d have to close the shop for a day to drive into St. Paul, but it would be worth the lost income.  It was Friday, and they could drive into St. Paul Sunday when the store was closed anyway to buy the tickets for her to come out.  He’d buy tickets for her to leave Massachusetts two weeks from Wednesday and they could pick her up on the following Monday.  In twenty four days he could have a mother for his girls.

“We’ll skip church on Sunday and drive to St. Paul to buy her a train ticket.  Would you girls like that?”

Georgie jumped up and down clapping her hands while Abbie smiled and nodded happily. 

Benjamin had Abbie bring him a pen, paper and ink so he could write a letter to send with the ticket.  He was glad it was so easy to pick out a new mama for his girls.

*****

It had been three and a half weeks since she’d mailed the letter, so Emily decided to stop off at Harriett’s house on her way home from work.  It had been a hectic Thursday at work, because the Walters were having another dinner party.  The parties were happening more and more often, multiplying her work load.  Today, Mrs. Walters had asked her to dust the entire downstairs of the house as well so it would look good for her guests.  Emily had barely finished fixing the meal when it was time for the guests to arrive.

She inhaled the scent of the autumn air as she walked.  She loved the fall when the leaves were changing colors and the air was cool, but not cold.  She enjoyed the sound of the leaves crackling under her feet as she headed down Rock Creek Road.  She slowed her steps as she neared her destination, afraid there had been a letter and the family didn’t want her, but more afraid there had been a letter and the family
did
want her.  She all but dragged her feet as she headed to the front door, and taking a deep breath, she knocked.

Higgins answered again.  “It’s good to see you again, Miss Hughes.”  He opened the door wide to let her in.  “Please follow me.”  He led her down the hall to the parlor Harriett used as an office.  “Miss Hughes is here to see you, Ma’am.”

Harriett rose to her feet.  “Thank you, Higgins.”

“Tea and cookies, Ma’am?”

“Yes, please.”  Harriett waited until he’d closed the door behind him before addressing Emily.  “Your letter arrived yesterday.  I haven’t read it, because you should be the one to do that.  Please sit down.”  She turned and headed to her desk.

Emily sank onto the rose patterned sofa and waited while Harriett dug through the papers on her desk.  Once she’d produced the letter and handed it to Emily, Harriett sat down in her chair and turned her attention to other work while Emily read her letter.

“Dear Emily, You sound like exactly what our family needs.  I’ve enclosed tickets for a train from Beckham, Massachusetts to St. Paul, Minnesota.  You’ll need to switch trains in Chicago.  I will close my shop for the day and meet you at the station in St. Paul.  Live Oak is a two hour drive north of St. Paul, so after you arrive we’ll return here to marry.  My girls are very excited to know you will be arriving soon.  I’ll see you on the fifteenth of October at the train station.  I will not have the girls with me.  I’m a tall blond Norwegian man and will have a sign with your name on it.  I look forward to meeting you.  Best, Benjamin.”

Emily took a deep breath to try to calm herself.  This was what she wanted and needed, so why was she so frightened?  “He’s sent me train tickets for Wednesday of next week.”

Harriett smiled happily.  “That’s wonderful.  It’s just what you need.”  She took the letter from Emily and skimmed over it, taking the check that had been sent for her services and placing it aside.  There was also a small sum of money for Emily’s needs which she handed to the younger woman along with the train tickets.  “Let’s go over what you’ll need to take with you.”

Harriett had a list of things she gave to each of the young brides she sent off.  She handed it to Emily to skim over.  “I don’t have a wedding dress,” Emily muttered.

“Well, there’s enough money there to get one.  It doesn’t have to be a traditional wedding dress, though it would be nice.  We’ll see what we can find.”

Emily read a few more things on the list and handed it back.  “I wish I had time to make a new wardrobe, because my clothes are hopelessly out of fashion, but I don’t.  I hope my new family won’t mind.”  She hated the idea of going to her new family with her old clothes, but she had no time to make more.  She barely had time to get used to the idea before she was leaving.  Was this really a good idea?

Harriett smiled, squeezing the younger woman’s hand.  “I don’t think that will be a problem.  Your future husband owns a mercantile so you’ll be able to get what you need relatively quickly.”

“I’m really nervous.  I’m not sure this is what I should be doing,” Emily confessed.

“I understand.  You have every reason to be nervous, but this is an answer to your prayers.  Your situation is a tough one, and we couldn’t have found a better family for you.”  Harriett’s voice was soothing and calm.  “Would it help you if I went to the train station with you to see you off?”

Emily nodded slowly.  “Would you mind?”  She knew it was a lot to ask of a virtual stranger, but Harriett had been so sweet to offer, and she really didn’t want to go alone.

“Not at all!  I’m sending you off into an unknown situation.  What time does your train leave on Wednesday?” 

Emily glanced at the ticket to check.  “Ten in the morning.”

“Why don’t you come to my house around half past eight?  We’ll walk to the station together.”

Emily stood.  “Thank you for all your help.” 

Harriett gripped Emily’s hands between her own.  “It’s not a problem.  If you need anything between now and when you leave Beckham, I want you to let me know right away.”

“I will.”

Harriett walked her to the door, and Emily waved goodbye.  She took the long way home as she walked through the dark streets of Beckham.  She’d never been further than five miles from the town, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave and never see it again. 

When she arrived home, she found her mother waiting for her in the parlor.  “I was getting worried.  You were out so late!”  Emily had always come straight home after work, and although she’d known she’d be going to see Harriett that evening, she hadn’t wanted to involve her mother and have her worried about Emily’s decision before it was officially made.

Emily joined Jane on the sofa.  “I’m sorry I worried you.  I was speaking with Harriett Long.  Do you know her?”

Jane seemed to think about it for a moment.  She knew the name, but wasn’t sure if she’d ever met the woman.  “I’m not sure.  Why?”

“Well, she’s matching women who need husbands up with men in the west.  I’m going to be a mail order bride.”  Emily spoke quickly to get the words out.  She hadn’t been looking forward to telling her mother what her decision had been.

Jane’s eyes widened with surprise.  “Where will you go?”

“I’ve agreed to marry a man in Minnesota.  He lost his wife a few months ago, and he needs a mother for his two young daughters.  They seem like a very nice family.”  She held up the letter and train tickets for her mother to see.

“When will you leave?”

“Wednesday morning.  I’ll be married on October fifteenth in the small town in Minnesota where he lives.”  Emily’s eyes met her mother’s, quietly pleading with her to find a way for her to stay.  Surely William would change his mind rather than send her off to live with total strangers halfway across the continent.

Jane squeezed Emily’s hand.  “I’m so happy you found a good situation.  I’ll miss you, of course, but we can always write.”  Jane looked extremely relieved to know Emily had found a good place to go.