Nelly's Mail Order Husband

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Valentine frowned. “But I will inherit the title. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “A title is nice,” she replied. “But it’s not enough. Rachel can offer a titled gentleman the possibility of having an heir. As you know, that’s a valuable asset.”

  Valentine hid his disappointment. It was just his luck that he was born a boy instead of a girl.

  “Your father and I have decided it would be best if you found a lady of means here in America,” his mother continued. “Pick someone who owns a business. Here in America, business owners do very well. People have an entrepreneurial spirit here that gives them a significant advantage. If you can find a woman who comes from a family who owns their own business or a lot of land, we think you will do well.”

  His father nodded emphatically. “We think that may be your best option. Then when you marry her, you will inherit her father’s wealth.”

  Valentine glanced from his father to his mother. “Putting aside the ladies I decided not to propose to in the past, I can’t think of a single father in Boston who is going to let me marry his daughter once he finds out we no longer have any money.”

  “That’s why your father and I think you should look for a woman outside of Boston,” his mother replied.

  Just how was he supposed to find a wife?

  His father and his mother turned their attention back to their meal. After a moment, he did, too. His appetite was ruined. He had been hoping to enjoy this last good meal, but knowing his parents and his sister were going to go to London while he was going to be stuck here in America to fend for himself killed his desire to eat.

  A wife. His only hope was to secure a wife, and he needed one who came from a family that could support the kind of lifestyle he was used to. Up to now, his plan hadn’t been to get married until he was at least twenty-eight. He had hoped that, by then, one of the women of marrying age would appeal to him. But apparently, he no longer had the luxury of taking his time in choosing someone. He might have to take whatever he could get. And that would have to be someone who didn’t know what had just happened to his family.

  “Eat up,” his father encouraged. “You’re going to need your strength for what lies ahead.”

  With a nod, Valentine cut into his steak, feeling a lot more like a man about to be sent to the gallows than one who was going to search for a wife.

  Chapter Two

  Nelly was milking her cow when she heard a horse neighing in front of her barn. It wasn’t either of her two horses. Her horses were in the pasture, and the pasture was behind her barn. That could only mean someone had come by to pay her a visit.

  She let go of the cow’s teats and moved the pail aside. She walked around the cow that she’d tied to the post in the middle of the barn and went to see who it was. As soon as she saw Seth McCarthy, she groaned. Not him. Of all people, why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it be something more pleasant, like her pa coming to tell her a swarm of locusts was on its way to devour their crops?

  She pulled out the bandana from her back pocket and wiped her hands with it.

  Seth got off his horse. Taking the steed by the reins, he walked over to her. “A little lady like you ought to be wearing a dress.”

  “I hate dresses,” Nelly said. “You know that.”

  He shrugged. “Just because you hate them, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t wear them. You’d look more like a girl if you did.”

  “I’m not interested in looking like a girl. I’m interested in what’s practical. It’s easier to do the chores in a pair of pants.”

  “You wouldn’t have to do the chores if you married me.”

  “I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Ah, come on. You and I make the most sense. Your homestead is right next to mine. We could combine our lands and our animals. We’d be doing twice as well as we are now.”

  “You’d be doing twice as well,” she pointed out. “Everything would be in your name because you’re a man.”

  “Sure, it’d be in my name on paper, but we’d be a team. Better than that, we’d be husband and wife. It wouldn’t be just about money. There’d be some romance, too.”

  “I’m not stupid, Seth. I know about your visits with Mrs. Louis.”

  Seth waved her comment aside. “I don’t love her. She’s just there for a diversion. A man has to sow his wild oats until he settles down. If you’d marry me, I wouldn’t have to go looking elsewhere for some enjoyment.”

  “You’re disgusting. I’m not marrying you. Ever. Now, I have some milking to do. Go on home.”

  She started to turn to go back into the barn, but he reached out and touched her shoulder. She jerked away from him.

  He put his hand up. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so touchy.”

  She wiped her shoulder with the bandana. “You don’t have permission to touch me. Next time you try it, I’ll show you my Colt .45.”

  He whistled. “I got to admit, Nelly, I kind of like your spirit.” When she rolled her eyes, he added, “Look, I won’t touch you, alright? All I am asking is that you give me a chance. We can have a cup of coffee. That’s it.” She didn’t respond, so he added, “At the very least, we should discuss the benefits of marriage.” He offered her a pleading smile. “I’ll stop seeing Mrs. Louis if you give me a chance.”

  “I’ll be in the ground pushing up daisies before I do that.” She gestured to the path leading off her property. “Go on. I don’t want you here.”

  Though he sighed, he got up on his horse. “Alright, I’ll go, but you ought to keep something in mind. You’re twenty-three. Before too long, you’ll be undesirable for marriage. Not many men want an old spinster, land or not.”

  “I’m perfectly fine with that.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll change your mind. When the urge to have children starts to take hold and you realize taking care of a homestead is too much work for a woman to do all by herself, you’ll come to me.”

  She was ready to give out a clever retort, but he kicked his horse in the sides and headed off her land.

  Grunting, she shoved her bandana back into her pocket and went back into the barn. She wished Seth would stay away from her. She should have realized it’d been too peaceful out here for too long. He used to make it a point to stop by every month to propose marriage. This time, she’d had two months of peace.

  When he first started bothering her, he’d been sweet about it. He’d brought flowers. One time, he’d even brought candy. He didn’t do that anymore. He must have realized he was wasting money in doing that.

  She’d never told her parents or sisters about him. She didn’t think they would try to talk her into marrying him since he was such a creep, but she worried it would give them ideas about her getting married. As if they needed any ideas! She almost hadn’t survived dinner with them the other night. If it hadn’t been for her pa, she didn’t know what she would have done. He was the only one who wasn’t eager to see her strapped to a husband.

  She picked up the pail and slid it back under the cow. She could only hope this was a phase her ma and sisters were going through. Hopefully, they would eventually give up and let her live her life in peace. And God willing, eventually wouldn’t take a long time.

  ***

  Valentine had decided to pay his friend a visit, and though the maid had offered him something to drink, he hadn’t touched his cup of tea. All he could do was stare at the fireplace mantle in his friend’s den.

  “I feel like an orphan,” Valentine said. “A penniless orphan. My family’s going to run off to London, and I have to figure out what I’m going to do.” He glanced at Jim Griffin. “You’re lucky. Your father knew better than to put all of the family’s money into one investment.”

  Jim took a sip of his brandy and crossed his legs. “You’re welcome to stay here. There are plenty of spare bedrooms.”

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to be a burden on your family.” He grimaced. “I need to find a wife.”

&
nbsp; Jim chuckled. “A wife isn’t a punishment.”

  “It depends on the woman.”

  “Are you thinking of asking Carla to marry you?”

  “No!” He resisted the urge to shiver. “She’s terrible. All she talks about is herself. I swear, she has those mirrors placed all over the parlor so she can see herself when she talks.”

  “She’s not that shallow.”

  Valentine turned his gaze to his friend. “Have you ever noticed that she sits in certain chairs that are directly across from those mirrors? I’ve seen her glancing at her reflection when I’ve visited her.”

  This only made Jim laugh harder. “Maybe you have a point.”

  Valentine’s eyebrow rose. Maybe he had a point?

  As if Jim could hear his silent question, he held his hand up. “Alright. You definitely have a point. She’s in love with herself. Any man who marries her will be second in her life.”

  “Exactly.” Unable to resist the joke, he added, “And he’ll probably have to sleep in the bed with a mirror between him and Carla.”

  Jim shook his head but continued chuckling. “You’re terrible.”

  “How can it be terrible to tell the truth?”

  Valentine let out a long sigh. Neither Jennifer, Bethany, nor Martha were willing to even look in his direction now that word had gotten out that he was a pauper. Sadly, Jim was right. His only chance was Carla. But he didn’t think he could bring himself to spend a lifetime with her. It’d been painful enough to spend a couple of evenings escorting her to dinner parties.

  He turned his gaze back to the fireplace. He needed to be sensible about this. When it came to marriage, money should be the dominant factor. Something like compatibility was nice but not the main goal. His trouble was that he wanted a woman who had both qualities. He wanted someone who could provide him with a very comfortable life and be someone he could enjoy talking to.

  He closed his eyes and imagined being married to Carla.

  “I can’t do it,” Valentine said before he’d gotten five seconds into the fantasy. “I can’t suffer a life with Carla, even if she is a wealthy heiress. I’m going to have to look further than Boston for a wife. Certainly, somewhere out there is a woman who can give me what I want. I just don’t know how to find her.”

  After a moment, Jim asked, “What about placing an ad for a wife?”

  “What?”

  Excited, Jim put his cup down and leaned toward him. “That’s what you should do! Put an ad in the papers all around the country. In the ad, say what you’re looking for. Women have been doing it for years. A man should be able to do it, too.”

  “You want me to post a mail-order bride ad?”

  “No, not a mail-order bride ad. You would post a mail-order husband ad. If men around this country are looking for a wife, then there’s got to be women looking for a husband.”

  Valentine tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair as he considered the option. “Do you really think something like that will work?”

  “You won’t know unless you try. What have you got to lose? If no one answers the ad, then you’re going to be stuck here anyway.” When Valentine didn’t respond, Jim continued, “It’s either the ad or Carla.”

  That decided it. Valentine nodded and stood up. “Let’s go send out an ad.”

  ***

  “Look what I found while I was in town today!” Erin called out as she ran into the parlor.

  Patricia and Daisy looked up from the clothes they were mending.

  “Are you going to tell us, or are you planning to make us guess?” Patricia asked when Erin jumped up and down in excitement in front of them.

  Erin hurried to sit in the chair across from them. She held the paper up so they could see it. “I found this ad at the mercantile. It’s from a man who’s looking for a wife who either owns a business or land.”

  Not sure she’d heard her sister right, Patricia put her pa’s pants down and reached for the paper. The paper featured a lot of miscellaneous ads. She had to search for the one that Erin had mentioned.

  Attractive twenty-five-year-old male, educated in etiquette, seeks female of similar age to marry. She must own a business or land. If interested, contact Valentine Silverton.

  Below the ad was the address where a woman could respond to the ad.

  “Valentine?” Daisy asked as she peered at the paper. “What a romantic name. And look!” She pointed to the first word in the ad. “He said he’s attractive.”

  “There’s more to a man than his name and how he looks,” Patricia replied. But after a moment, she amended, “He does sound wonderful, doesn’t he?”

  The two giggled.

  “He’s looking for a wife,” Erin said. “That’s the important part.”

  Daisy reread the ad. “What does etiquette mean?”

  Patricia shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he says he’s educated. I take that to mean he completed all of his grades at the schoolhouse.”

  “He’s in Boston,” Erin said. “I’m not sure they have schoolhouses there like we do here. I think Eva said something about schools being larger and more sophisticated there.”

  “What does it matter?” Patricia asked. “As you said, the important thing is he’s looking for a wife. And just not any kind of wife. He wants one who owns a business or land.”

  Erin nodded. “Right. And Nelly owns land. She’s got that homestead.”

  “And she needs a husband,” Daisy added. “I overheard Ma talking to Pa, and both agreed that a husband would make things easier for her.”

  “You overheard this?” Patricia asked. “When?”

  “Last night,” Daisy replied.

  “Are you telling me Pa has changed his mind on Nelly getting married?” Because that didn’t sound like their pa at all.

  “No, he hasn’t changed his mind,” Daisy said. “He agrees that a husband makes things easier, but he thinks Nelly can manage just fine without one.”

  “You made it sound like he wanted Nelly to get married,” Erin told Daisy.

  “No, I didn’t,” Daisy argued. “I said they agreed that a husband would make things easier. That’s different from me suggesting he wants Nelly to get married.”

  Before the two could get into a full-blown argument over Daisy’s choice of words, Patricia intervened. “It doesn’t matter what was said or not said. What matters is that this young good-looking man who is well educated is looking for a wife who owns land. We have a duty to help him. Now, we all know there’s no way Nelly can really be happy out there at her homestead all by herself. She might think she doesn’t want to get married, but deep down, we know she does. What woman wants to end up lonely while everyone else is getting married and having children?”

  The sisters all glanced at each other, and Erin and Daisy said they didn’t want to suffer that kind of fate.

  “It’s decided,” Patricia said as she stood up. “We’re going to go into town and send this wonderful man a response on Nelly’s behalf, and we’re going to do it right now.”

  Letting out an excited squeal, Daisy jumped up from her chair.

  Patricia turned to her little sister. “You need to stay here. Erin and I will be going alone.”

  Daisy didn’t hide her disappointment. “Why do I have to stay here?”

  “Because Ma said these clothes need to be mended before dinner,” Patricia answered. “I need to go with Erin since she’s the one who brought the paper home.” She lifted the paper in order to emphasize her point.

  “Erin’s already been in town today,” Daisy said.

  “Well, she’s going again,” Patricia replied. “Ma’s at Aunt Mary’s, and Pa’s in the field. That puts me in charge since I’m the oldest one here. You need to work on those clothes.”

  Daisy frowned, but she sat back in her chair and picked up the shirt she’d been working on.

  “Don’t tell Ma or Pa what we’re doing,” Erin told Daisy. “Ma wouldn’t stop us, but she’d tell Pa, and we all know Pa
wouldn’t allow this.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “It’s not fair. I have to keep quiet, but I can’t participate in all the fun.”

  Patricia glanced at Erin. Their little sister made a good point. After a moment, Patricia got an idea. “You know those gloves you’ve been wanting for the past month? I’ll take my money and buy them for you while I’m in town.”

  At this promise, Daisy’s eyes lit up. “Alright. I won’t tell anyone anything.”

  Feeling better about leaving her youngest sister behind, Patricia hurried to grab her coin purse before heading out to the buggy with Erin.

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks later, Valentine finally got a response to his ad that looked promising. Actually, there were two others that had been promising, too. One reply came from the daughter of a factory owner in Ohio, and the other had come from the daughter of a man who owned a railway station in Illinois. The problem was that they didn’t sound the least bit interesting. They sounded as dull as the young women he was already surrounded by in Boston.

  But the third letter—the one that came from Nebraska—was the one that interested him. He’d never come across such a woman before. The women he was used to would never have ventured into running their own business. But the one from Nebraska had gone against traditional norms and had acquired her own homestead. She owned land and animals. From that, he gathered she had a fiery and independent spirit. Such a woman would probably be fascinating to talk to. She’d be intelligent. She’d have better things to talk about than the latest gossip or just let him do all the talking.

  The downside was that he didn’t know the first thing about homesteads. Since he was a man, it would be up to him to take over the business once they married. Sure, she would have a part in it. He would never think of taking that away from her since she had the courage to venture on her own into an area dominated by men. But obviously, he would lead the operation.