Mail Order Bride: Holly

by Vivi Holt

  She knew she’d never have that again.

  “Do you take this man to be your lawful husband?” asked Rev. Martin.

  She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Within minutes, they were husband and wife. Holly let her eyes travel up the face of the man she’d just joined her life to. He watched her as if trying to read her thoughts. She managed a smile and braced herself as he leaned down to kiss her. Why did it seem so strange to be kissed by another man – almost as if she was cheating on Charles? But Charles was dead. He’d never be back. Still, she let her eyes drift shut as Kurt’s lips met hers.

  When she opened them again, his face hovered over hers. Was that concern she saw? Perhaps he was a good man. She hoped so, for her children’s sake.

  “We’d best get going,” he said. “I need to get back to the ranch in time for chores.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement, took his arm and together they walked out of the church, the children following quietly behind.

  The steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the road soothed Holly’s nerves. She sat, straight-backed, on the hard wooden bench up front. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the children were absorbed with their surroundings. They’d never spent much time in the country, and the chirruping meadowlarks, burrowing gophers and a herd of deer that startled and disappeared over a rise into the prairie grasses with a flash of white tails had them all looking goggle-eyed in every direction.

  “So this isn’t your first time being married?”

  His question startled her. “That’s right. The children’s father, Charles Bristol, died last winter. We’ve been living with my sister Eve and her family ever since.” She didn’t want any secrets between them. Best to get everything out in the open right away as far as she was concerned. If he had questions, she’d answer them as best she could. She had plenty of questions of her own.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured, adjusting the reins in his hands.

  “Thank you. It was a shock, truth be told, but we’re praying for a better future.” She studied him. Tanned hands and face, muscular forearms beneath rolled-up sleeves. He had an easy, casual manner about him, and so far seemed quiet and steady enough, though time would tell. One thing she knew after years of experience on the subject was that men weren’t often who they seemed to be. It took time to discover who they truly were beneath the surface.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking … if you had a place to stay with your sister, why did you leave New York?” He turned to watch for her response.

  She blushed beneath his gaze. There was something in his eyes that made her heart race. “Her husband gave us notice. He wasn’t keen on having five children not his own in his home.”

  He grunted and pursed his lips.

  What was he thinking? She’d been nervous about their meeting, since she hadn’t told him about her children until after he sent her that ticket. She wondered how he felt about it – was the grunt one of discontent? Well, neither of them had been entirely forthcoming – “landowner” was a long way from “farmer.”

  And if she had told him she had five little ones, he’d likely have telegraphed that she shouldn’t come. Most men would’ve. In fact, she’d been a little concerned he might turn her away at the station. But he hardly seemed to miss a beat when he saw them – she’d willingly give him credit for that.

  It was too late for all that anyway – they were married. She was glad it had been in front of a preacher. From what she’d heard that wasn’t always a possibility for a mail-order bride. She knew she couldn’t have stomached the idea of moving in with a man she wasn’t married to, but when it came down to it, she’d always put her children’s welfare first.

  “Thank you for lunch,” she said. When she’d asked him about food after the ceremony, he’d pulled a picnic basket he’d packed that morning out from beneath the wagon seat. He parked the wagon under the shade of a cottonwood tree at the edge of town and spread the food out on a blanket. And she’d noted that though there hadn’t been enough to go around, he’d gone without, quietly handing sandwiches to each child and herself before sitting back against the wide trunk of the old tree to watch them eat.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What will we do for food on the ranch?” she asked. She had no experience on that subject. As a child, she’d had to scavenge for food where she could. Then when she’d married Charles, they had accounts at every store she needed supplies from.

  “I have a garden out back. It’s still small, though I was hoping you might get it going to where we have enough vegetables for the year and for canning and such. I’ll hunt for fresh meat. There are plenty of berry thickets and wild apple trees around. Come fall we’ll have beef to eat – at least that’s the plan. My brother Angus will keep us supplied with flour and cornmeal and oatmeal. And I have a milk cow. Can you make cheese?”

  She nodded. She’d never done it, but she’d seen it done and it didn’t seem difficult.

  “Anything else we need, I can charge for breeding horses, or trap furs and trade at a general store in town. Just let me know and I’ll add it to the order when I go.”

  She chewed her lower lip. It sounded like there was plenty of food – she only hoped it would be enough. Five growing children could eat one out of house and home in no time.

  “What about your parents?” he asked suddenly.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Your parents. Couldn’t they take you in?”

  Was he trying to be rid of her already? “They’re dead, I’m afraid.” She hoped he didn’t ask how.

  He didn’t. “I’m sorry. Sounds like you’ve had plenty of hardships.”

  She gave a curt nod. “God gives me the strength to endure it.”

  “Sure enough.” He nodded too, frowning.

  She decided to change the subject. The sad story of her life always set people to pitying her, and she hated that – it made her chest ache. “What about you? You were from Mount Vernon originally – why did you leave?”

  He cleared his throat and pushed his hat further back on his head. “My brother Angus came out here first. He’s the real businessman in the family – he owns the Wichita Western Mill on the opposite end of town.” He cleared his throat, as if that was a sore subject. “He said I should come, so I did. My parents weren’t thrilled, but I yearned for adventure. And I’ve always wanted a ranch.” He chuckled, as though to a private joke.

  “Oh.”

  He coughed. “Just to get things out in the clear … my brother wrote the advertisement. I never actually saw it, as I spend most my time on the ranch. It’s new, you see, and it takes a lot to get things going. He suggested the idea of writing away for a bride. I went along with it because I trust his judgment. I didn’t know he’d call me a ‘landowner,’ though – that’s a bit high-hat for what I’m doing. Sorry about that.”

  Holly’s mind whirled. It made sense, she supposed. Perhaps he’d never meant to mislead her, any more than she had him. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt – after all, he was her husband now. And he didn’t seem the lying type. “All’s well that ends well,” she said, smoothing her skirts.

  He glanced at her, curiosity filling his bright blue eyes. Then he nodded, once, in acknowledgement of her forgiveness.

  5

  The sun made its way toward the horizon, a line broken only by the occasional tree or sloping rise. Kansas was flat, filled with wide-open plains of waving grasses. It was beautiful in a wild kind of way, and Holly began to relax as she watched the light turn gold and orange, tinting the lazy prairies. The road turned into a trail, then wagon tracks, brown lines in the grass.

  Soon, she saw a structure, dark against the plains. Kurt had been silent for so long, his voice almost made her jump. “There’s home, such as it is.”

  She smiled. Home. It’d been months since she truly had a home. But what would this one be like? The setting sun made the ent
ire place look quaint, as if drawn from a fairytale. As they drew closer, she saw a large barn behind the house. It was bigger than the house itself, a cottage really, with two square windows out front and a solid door made from planks. In the fenced yard beside the barn, a cow lifted her head to watch their approach. A small herd of cattle grazed in the distance. A dog ran out, barking to greet them, its tail wagging.

  The children had grown used to the journey, and began to chatter excitedly over the prospect of finally arriving at their destination. To a child, she supposed a ranch in Kansas might be a great adventure. But she worried it might turn into a set of shackles she hadn’t anticipated, slapped on her ankles while she was looking the other way. She shook the feeling away, determined to find the best in the situation.

  When the wagon stopped in front of the house, the children piled out, laughing and petting the dog, who leaped around with glee. Kurt chuckled and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “This is Badger, on account of looking like one. He’s friendly, as you can see – not much of a guard dog, but good with the livestock.”

  Holly smiled and reached down to caress the dog’s smooth head. Badger’s ears lay back against his head and he sat beside her, lapping up the attention.

  “Everyone, go in and make yourself at home. I’ll unload and get the horses settled in the barn.”

  Holly took a slow breath. “Come on, children. Let’s go inside.” They rushed ahead of her, barreling through the door. She followed more slowly, taking in everything as she went.

  It was a sturdy structure, small but well-built. The first room held two chairs, a modest table and a cast-iron stove with a chimney. Another table near the far wall held several bowls and plates, jugs and cans – likely what passed for a kitchen. But it was cozy and tidy, and though she’d grown accustomed to a luxurious life as Mrs. Charles Bristol, she’d previously been acquainted with poverty. This didn’t look like the poverty she knew – this was a home.

  It was dark inside. She found a lantern on the kitchen table, a box of matches beside it. She struck one, lit the lantern and carried it with her into the second room – the bedroom, where a single bed stood against one wall. She pursed her lips. One bed. Seven people. And there was no third room. How would they work this out, especially on their wedding night?

  Returning to the first room, she set the lantern back on the table. The children had explored the house, touching everything, picking it up, turning it over and exclaiming with excitement over it all. “May we go outside, Ma?” asked Sarah, standing on tiptoe, her eyes bright.

  “Yes, but stay close. I’ll be calling for you shortly.”

  They piled outside with whoops and hollers, and she couldn’t help smiling at their enthusiasm. At least they were happy to be there. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. She’d been concerned she might be endangering them by bringing them to the edge of civilization, but now that they were here, it wasn’t so frightening as she’d imagined.

  Kurt pushed through the door, lugging a trunk with him. He hurried into the bedroom, set it on the floor, then came back out scratching his head. “Not sure where we’ll put all this luggage,” he said with a grin.

  She grimaced. “Yes, we may have packed too much.”

  “Not what you were expecting?” he asked, leaning on the kitchen table, his eyes on her.

  Her cheeks blazed under his scrutiny. “I honestly didn’t know what to expect.”

  “I wasn’t prepared for five …”

  “I know. I’m sorry, I should have told you right away.” She felt her throat tightening.

  He gently rested a hand on her arm. “Never mind. There’s nothing for it now. I just hope you don’t mind things being a little … cozy.” He laughed, soft and low.

  Her heart leaped. She felt like she might burst into tears. “Thank you.” With a cough to mask her strangled voice, she turned away. “What shall we have for supper?”

  “There’s a root cellar – I’ll show you.” He grabbed an iron ring in the floor beside the kitchen table and pulled, opening a trapdoor. “There. Help yourself to anything you need. I’m going to finish unloading the luggage.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  He smiled and left.

  Holly set her hands on her hips, looking down into the root cellar. She picked up the lantern and selected two bowls, then carried them down the ladder in the opening, stepping carefully backwards. When her foot hit solid earth, she turned and raised the lantern to eye level to look around. The cellar was small but functional, with timber walls and ceiling and a musty odor. It also wasn’t quite high enough to stand in – she had to duck her head to move around as she scanned the stacks of food.

  There was a pile of what looked to be smoked meat wrapped neatly in brown paper squares. Potatoes, yams and pumpkins were piled against the far end of the space, and onions hung in bunches from the ceiling. A shelf held salt pork, sugar, molasses, cans of baked beans, salt and other spices, all store bought. Against the wall to her right were sacks of flour, oats and cornmeal with WICHITA WESTERN stenciled on them – the promised bounty from his brother’s mill.

  It was only the middle of fall, but it looked as if Kurt had gathered enough food to last through the winter months. Though maybe not enough for seven. She’d have to take stock and make sure there was plenty for them to eat. And she looked forward to getting started on the vegetable garden – she’d never had one before. Her parents hadn’t bothered, and there’d been no need once she was married. But she truly enjoyed gardening, and the idea that she could provide for her children by growing food filled her with a sense of satisfaction.

  Holly opened a sack of cornmeal and scooped a good portion into one bowl, sliced some salt pork into the other and grabbed the jar of molasses before climbing back up the ladder. Time to make her first supper in their new home.

  Kurt rubbed Sam’s back with a cloth, then used the curry brush to groom him until his coat shone. Sam chewed contentedly on the corn in his feed box. Kurt talked to him all the while, a habit of his – it made him feel less lonely and seemed to soothe them as well. He chattered about the trip to town and the wedding, and his worries about all those mouths to feed.

  He stopped all of a sudden as a thought crossed his mind: he wasn’t alone anymore. He had an entire family with him now in that tiny cottage he’d built. He shivered, then smiled. Seeing all those children threw him at first. But now, once he’d mulled a little over just what would be required to support a family that size, he’d come to terms with it. After all, he’d dreamed of having a large family – it was just happening sooner than he’d expected. And all at once.

  They’d have to expand the garden, that was certain. He’d have to hunt a little more frequently, and dip into his savings for clothes and other supplies. But otherwise, he should be able to continue on as planned. And once he got them into the town school, they’d be able to walk to the schoolhouse together, since it was only a mile away through reasonably flat land. Everything would work out just fine.

  Holly … was another matter entirely. He still hadn’t been able to settle his nerves about her, even though she seemed to have warmed to him a little. In fact, he was anxious about finishing the chores and going inside. Scared to go into his own house – what was wrong with him? That was no way for a man to live. He scowled, took a quick breath, set the curry brush back on the shelf in the barn and slapped Sam on the rump. “See you tomorrow, old boy.”

  Badger trotted along at his heels as he walked toward the cabin, his heart in his throat. He could smell supper cooking even before he opened the front door, and it brought a smile to his face. When he stepped inside, the happy sounds of laughing children met him and he paused a moment before pulling off his boots and hanging his hat on a peg by the door. “Evening, everyone,” he called, then hurried into the bedroom to wash up in the basin.

  When he returned to the front room, Holly was dishing corn cakes with salt pork and molasses onto plates. She set five of them along the
kitchen table, then two more on the small round table he used for writing, reading or playing cards. There weren’t enough chairs to go around, but the children happily stood at the kitchen table, waiting patiently to begin eating.

  He sat in his chair at the little table. “Thank you. This smells delicious.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink under his praise. “You’re most welcome. I hope it is.” She sat across from him and bowed her head.

  Kurt followed her example and said a blessing. While he prayed, he let himself glance at the children. Five little heads bowed, five pairs of eyes closed. Yes indeed, everything would work out just fine.

  Kurt crossed his ankles, watching the flames in the fireplace leap and snap. The fire would burn out soon and it would be time for bed. He tapped out his pipe in the ashtray, set it down and stood with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. He wandered into the bedroom, where Holly and the children were reading and drawing. Time to figure out sleeping arrangements.

  He pulled a straw tick out from beneath the single bed. He’d made two of them before he’d fetched Holly and the children from the train station – the other was leaning up against the wall. He’d planned on making more, but hadn’t had time. They were extra large, though – he hoped the children would all fit. He dragged one, then the other, out to the front room. If he’d set them in the bedroom, they’d take up all the floor space, and the only way to get to the bed would be to crawl over them.

  Besides, it being their wedding night, he figured he and Holly would want some privacy.

  Holly spoke behind him. “Would you like me to make up the beds?”