Jenny's Secret Diary (Brides 0f Pelican Rapids Book 7)

by Lisa Prysock

  She could only hope her own excitement would soon parallel that of her four younger sisters. There was something to be said for maintaining independence, and she’d used every bit of hers for the past twenty-three years to avoid the lack thereof. Women had few rights once married, and she wasn’t too thrilled about this glaring fact. Certainly, this meant any prospective husband she married must be passionate about loving and respecting one’s wife, like Pa had been. Where Dr. Zane Beckham was concerned, this remained to be seen. Jenny’s own mother had inspired her to maintain her sense of independence, but not every man could hold a candle to her beloved father. When Zane learned more about her, would he love her the way Pa loved her mama?

  Chapter 2

  Now unto Him that is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto Him be the glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21

  ELLA MILTON POURED a cup of tea for Dr. Beckham and handed it to him. Then she allowed her gaze to rest on the colorful parrot the doctor called Leo Tolstoy, currently perched on the handsome doctor’s shoulder. “You did remember to minimize your love for animals in your correspondence with Miss Lindford? We don’t want to scare her away or shock her before she gets to know you.”

  Zane nodded and sipped some of the tea. “I did.”

  She nodded approvingly and sipped a cup of steaming chamomile tea to soothe her nerves as an uncomfortable silence settled on them. They were waiting for Miss Lindford to make her appearance. Josiah had fetched her from the train station that morning, and by now, surely the bride was rested, bathed, and ready to meet her fiancé. These initial meetings still had the power to set her on edge until she was sure her brides and grooms liked each other.

  “The General would like some tea,” Zane finally said as he placed his cup in the saucer he held.

  Glancing at the chimpanzee occupying the chair on the other side of the small, round table beside Zane, Ella couldn’t help but raise a brow with some degree of concern. Could the General be trusted to hold one of her best china cups, let alone actually sip tea from it?

  “Have no fear, Ms. Milton. General Custer has been taking tea with me for many months now,” Zane reassured.

  This was certainly something she had to see for herself, but Zane was a mastermind when it came to animals. She hoped he would be the same with his patients and a pleasing husband for his bride. So far, this had proven to be true; except for the husband part remained to be seen. Eyeing the chimp, dressed in a small top hat and morning coat with tails custom made for his special requirements, she tried to maintain her composure as if it was entirely normal for her to serve tea to a chimp in the confines of her parlor. “Oh, please forgive my manners then. If you are entirely sure, then I shall pour him a cup, too.”

  Zane nodded without so much as a blink. “I am entirely sure.”

  Ella poured General Custer a cup of tea, reluctantly. “D-does he take sugar?”

  “No sugar,” Zane replied.

  Unsure about the saucer, she held the cup out for Zane to give it to the chimp. She was seated a little too far to one side of the parlor sofa to reach the chimp herself. Additionally, she thought it might be best if the doctor handed him the cup. Perhaps he had a certain way of doing it.

  “He can handle the saucer, too,” Zane encouraged, seeing her dilemma.

  “Oh.” Ella offered a weak smile with reticence in her eyes, handing him the saucer.

  Zane placed the cup of tea on the saucer and then held it out for General Custer. The chimp seemed to smile and made a little squeak of a noise, indicating he was happy to be offered tea. He accepted the tea from the doctor without any trouble at all.

  She could not help but be mesmerized. Ella watched with amazement as the chimp drank some of the tea, and then chuckled lightly to see him perform this pleasurable task with no difficulty whatsoever. “My goodness, Dr. Beckham, the General is quite adept with having tea. In fact, it appears as if he is enjoying it as much as we are.” She grinned, finishing this statement as Jenny swept down the staircase in the hall and joined them.

  “Hello, everyone. Oh, my goodness, there is a...” Jenny halted as she entered the parlor, her eyes wide with amusement, purple skirts still swirling around her ankles. She managed to find her tongue and continued with, “a chimpanzee drinking a cup of tea.”

  PATTING THE EMPTY SEAT on the end of the small parlor sofa, Ella Milton, the owner of the Brides of Pelican Rapids Agency, invited Jenny to sit near her. Since the chimp occupied the other chair, she had no other immediate options.

  Dr. Beckham stood up, and then Jenny realized he also balanced a colorful parrot on his shoulder. “Words cannot express how pleased I am to finally meet you, my dear Miss Lindford.” He reached for her hand, she presumed for a customary handshake. Instead, when she extended it, he drew her hand to his lips and brushed it with a soft kiss.

  “Please, call me Jenny,” she replied, a warm smile spreading across her face to find his manner and appearance left butterflies in her tummy. Blushing, she sat down beside the agency proprietress on the sofa and accepted the cup of tea Ella poured and then handed her.

  “Sugar?” Ella asked.

  “Only one cube, please. I restrict myself to as little sugar as possible to maintain good health,” Jenny replied. She glanced again at the parrot on the handsome doctor’s shoulder.

  “Only one cube, please,” the parrot repeated. “Only one cube.”

  Jenny and Ella laughed, turning to look at each other, and then again at Zane with his colorful parrot.

  “A talking parrot and a chimp who drinks tea from a china cup! What other wonderful surprises do you have, Dr. Beckham?” Jenny inquired.

  “Please, call me Zane.” The doctor’s eyes appeared to light up with approval at her remarks. “As for the sugar, an admirable and excellent decision, Miss Lindford. I wish all of my patients had the same resolve.” Then he corrected himself, “Err, Jenny.”

  Jenny smiled and sipped her tea, unsure of how she should respond. She did feel passionate about maintaining good health, especially after watching her youngest sister, Laura, struggle to do so.

  Ella sipped some tea and then cleared her throat in an odd manner. “Dr. Beckham has a small collection of delightful animals. Everyone in Pelican Rapids loves them, and he occasionally brings them into town. It has made him a very popular doctor in our locality.”

  “By locality, I assume you mean the Pelican Rapids town and area, perhaps?” Jenny queried.

  “I serve patients here in Otter Tail County and many in Hennepin County since the doctor in Fergus Falls retired,” Zane explained.

  “Before the arrival of Dr. Beckham, everyone in Pelican Rapids had to drive to Fergus Falls to see a doctor. We are so thankful to finally have the excellent medical care he provides,” Ella added.

  “I see.” Jenny nodded. “How do you like Pelican Rapids, Zane?”

  “I couldn’t be any happier than I have been here thus far,” he responded. “The townsfolk are friendly; the two counties are booming with opportunity; and we’re only a short distance by train to St. Paul and Minneapolis.”

  “Dr. Beckham just finished building a grand house in the countryside. I believe you’ll find it the grandest home in the area,” Ella commented.

  “I simply cannot wait to see it! Zane mentioned the home he was building in his letters. He said I shall have my very own parlor.” Jenny bit her lip. “I’m sure it will be a splendid home for us.” She’d almost said library, which wouldn’t have been wrong except that he’d mentioned the house already had a library—and a drawing room as well—and he had decided to gift a room specifically for her personal use as a private parlor and sitting room, as was customary for many fine homeowners. He’d also said she could decorate the mansion, however she desired. In any case, she looked forward to adding bookshelves and a writing desk to the parlor, or whatever might be necessary.r />
  “It is a most remarkable and beautiful home in the Georgian style of mansions. Nothing I could say about it would do it justice. You’ll have to see it in person and decide for yourself.” Ella sipped more of her tea.

  “Thank you, Ms. Milton, for your kind words. In fact, I would like to invite you both for a tour and dinner tomorrow evening at about four o’clock, if that is all right with you. Please Ella, bring your son, Josiah.” The doctor shifted his position as the parrot climbed onto the edge of his chair.

  His parrot echoed with, “Four o’clock. Four o’clock.”

  This made Ella and Jenny laugh again.

  Jenny answered for them. “Yes, four o’clock is fine. We would be delighted.” In truth, she could hardly wait that long. She had been trying to imagine what her future home would look like for months now.

  “If you are still up to it after your long journey,” Ella began, “I have taken the liberty of arranging for a recital in your honor—to welcome Jenny and in celebration of your upcoming nuptials—to take place this afternoon before our evening meal. Some of our students take lessons on the piano in my dining room since there are not that many of the instrument in our small town. Luke and Molly have one—you’ll meet them—and our church finally obtained one. In any case, some of our students will be performing on the piano, violin, and in song for you both. Perhaps you two would like to take a walk on the grounds of my humble farm before our guests begin to arrive.”

  “Excellent ideas, Ms. Milton. We would indeed, and we look forward to this afternoon’s recital, do we not, Miss Lindford?” Dr. Beckham stood up with Jenny, glancing at her as the parrot flew over to his shoulder. At the same time, the chimpanzee finished his tea and placed his cup and saucer on the table. Then he jumped down to the ground to follow them as Zane extended his elbow to escort Jenny outside for the walk.

  “We certainly do. I see we shall have company on our walk,” Jenny giggled as Ella smiled, watching the couple and the animals as they interacted.

  “Perhaps I should introduce you properly. The chimp is named General Custer, and this is Leo Tolstoy, a friendly, talkative parrot.” Zane smiled as she shook Custer’s outstretched hand. Tolstoy squawked and then began repeating his name. “Leo Tolstoy the friendly parrot, Leo Tolstoy.”

  Jenny giggled again as the handsome doctor with the blond hair and hazel eyes escorted her toward the hallway entrance area. “Delighted to meet both of you.” She could see this was going to be the beginning of a very unusual relationship. Thus far, it was completely enjoyable. Zane was unlike anyone she had ever encountered. In fact, he was not only more handsome than his likeness he’d sent in the mail, but also interesting. This had altogether far exceeded her expectations.

  Chapter 3

  “THEY SLIPPED BRISKLY into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald (Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald), September 24, 1896-December 21, 1940, born in St. Paul, Minnesota. He was an American essayist, novelist, screenwriter, and short-story writer, widely regarded as one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century.

  JENNY WALKED WITH ZANE at a comfortable, leisurely pace through Ms. Ella Milton’s apple orchard on her pleasant farm. They walked beneath tree boughs and leaves, content to explore the grounds within view of the farmhouse. The chimp he’d introduced as General Custer followed, and the parrot named Leo Tolstoy remained steady on his shoulder.

  “I am so happy to finally meet you, Dr. Beckham—I mean, Zane.” Jenny reached up to pluck a small, stray twig from one of the trees. As they walked, she managed to keep her hands busy by twirling the twig. The warm afternoon sunshine and the occasional cool breeze felt refreshing on her face in the spring air.

  “I feel the same,” he replied. “How was your journey?”

  “It was uneventful, enjoyable, and peaceful.” She wanted to add she’d managed to write quite a bit in her journal during her travels. Perhaps it would be best if she kept that fact to herself for now. Most men didn’t approve of women writers, though she knew she must broach the subject with him at some point. Something told her perhaps a first meeting wasn’t quite the right time. “Other than an elderly lady who chatted my ear off from time to time until we reached Chicago. I’m quite sure my mother prayed her on board the train since I had no chaperon to accompany me.” She also wanted to tell him about the letter she’d read on the train from her friend, Laura Clay. It had broken her heart to hear of the difficulties her friend’s family currently suffered.

  He chuckled. “I’m sure Ms. Milton will do everything in her power to make you comfortable,” Zane commented.

  She nodded. “Yes, she has me settled into the lavender room, which I appreciate so much. I was given a choice of the peach bedroom, or the one I chose. Since lavender is my favorite color, I am feeling almost as if I am at home in my own dear, childhood room.”

  “I’m glad to hear you are settling in then. I’m sure you miss home.” He kept his hands clasped behind his back as they walked, the gold buttons undone on his long day coat, featuring two wide pleats in the back. His hazel eyes and blond hair glistened in the sun. At an inch or two more than six feet tall with a strong, square jaw, broad chest, and lightly tanned skin, his features turned her attention toward him.

  “I fear I do not miss it yet; though I know I shall always have a strong fondness for my Lexington home. After meeting your delightful General Custer and Leo Tolstoy, I now wonder what other surprises you have in store for me.” She queried him with a raised, gracefully arched brow and a coy smile.

  “I confess Ella recommended it might be best if I not trouble you with my few peculiar tendencies. She thought you should see for yourself in person rather than try to understand from a letter.” Zane glanced at her as they walked, keeping his eyes mainly on their footing since they traversed a long, slow incline.

  Jenny ducked under a low branch, wondering how many a few might be. “I confess I may have one or two of my own peculiar tendencies I haven’t shared in our letters.”

  He did not press her about this, nor did she press him. It was enough to be walking side-by-side through the Milton apple orchard, finally together with her intended. She could hear Josiah working in the barnyard area behind them. It all reminded her of Mama’s hard work at home on Blue Violet Farm.

  “You’re thinking of home,” he said, appearing to observe her looking around at the apple trees.

  She nodded and smiled, lifting her skirts to navigate around a mound of dirt. “At harvest time, after we all helped pick the apples, Mama would make apple butter, apple cake, apple jelly, cinnamon applesauce, apple vinegar, and apple cider. She would cut the cores out and make some into rings, hanging them to dry on strings. Then she would cut up more pieces of apples, arranging them on a cloth. She would cover this with a netting to keep the flies away and leave them to dry in the sun, calling it apple leather. The dried apples could be used in pies and cooking all winter long.”

  “These are good memories. You need to hold onto those kinds of things,” he replied. It was as if he understood she was leaving a whole part of her behind in Kentucky to come to Minnesota to marry him.

  They continued on in a comfortable silence for a little while until he remarked, “We did manage to share almost everything we could in our letters, except for our deepest secrets I suppose.” He paused to move a long, low, protruding branch covered in pink blossoms out of the way for both of them. “I know about your parents, Myra and Ethan, who have put everything into making an abundant and prosperous horse farm in Kentucky. You wrote to me about Kentucky bluegrass. You also told me how some of your farmstead lawn is covered with tiny wild violets, hence the name Blue Violet Farm. You know about my parents, Mary and Christian, from Philadelphia. I know about your sisters, Carrie, Bianca, Melanie, and Laura. Carrie loves horses; Bianca, hats; Melanie loves society and is outgoing; and Laura, with her health issues, loves home. Now let us move on to what it is you love.” He winked at her.

  “I a
m impressed, Dr. Beckham. You remembered almost everything.” She grinned, and then prodded him on. “What is it that I love?”

  “You, my dear girl, love everything in shades of purple, violet, and lavender. Your favorite flowers are iris, pansies, violets, petunias, purple heather, hydrangea—if it’s the violet, blue, purplish kind—and lavender. You like purple thistle and morning glories, and bachelor buttons when they look purple more than blue. Am I right so far?” he inquired, looking at her.

  Jenny lifted her skirts a bit to step over a clumpy area where the grass wasn’t growing. She nodded. “You are. Go on.”

  Zane smiled, appearing encouraged. “Your favorite color, as you said is lavender, and you purchase most of your clothing items in this color whenever possible. You are passionate about your home, but not afraid to travel. You like hats, but you are not obsessed by objects or material possessions. You are an avid reader who loves books. You like history and literature, detest poetry and mathematics, and you like embroidery, sketching, the theater, and dancing. How am I doing so far?”

  “Excellent memory. I see you paid a great deal of attention to the content of my letters,” Jenny replied as the ground leveled out.

  “You love walks, horseback rides, horses, southern traditions, and cats. You are not one to spend your days in the kitchen, but you can bake and cook any number of things, from chicken pie to apple bread. You spend some of your time helping your mother with a few Christian charities, namely for missions and the church. You receive a journal each year for Christmas, and you look forward to this more than any other gift. I would say that based on all of this, and your letters—how well written they were—you love to write.”