by Al Lacy
There seemed to be no way out.
On a mild April evening, after helping Aunt Esther clean up the kitchen after supper, Rachel took a shawl, went out onto the front porch, and sat down in the big swing.
Her thoughts drifted back to happy days when her mother was alive and her father had conquered the bottle. Tears brimmed her eyes and left tracks on her cheeks as they spilled down and dripped off her chin.
Esther Holden left her brother passed out in his room and went in search of her niece. When she reached the parlor, she heard the squeak of the front porch swing. She eased up to the window and saw Rachel weeping.
Esther moved into the hall and took her shawl off its hook, then quietly opened the front door. Rachel was startled when Esther laid a hand on her shoulder. Her head whipped around and she quickly brushed away the trace of tears on her cheeks.
Esther rounded the swing, sat down beside Rachel, and took the girl’s soft hand in her own. “Honey, I know you’re feeling downcast and mixed-up. Let’s talk about it, okay?”
Rachel looked away.
“Sweetie, two heads are better than one. And a burden shared is always halved.”
“Aunt Esther, I don’t want to put any more strain on you than my father has done already,” Rachel said, staring straight ahead.
“But I love you, and I want to help if I can. It would be easier for me to know the problem and help you with it than to worry and wonder what is wrong.”
Tears gathered in Rachel’s eyes again, and with a trembling voice she began to talk about the burden her father’s drinking had put on her. She talked about the few young men she had dated, and that each time one came to the house, her father had embarrassed her, and the young man had not returned.
She had come to the point where she was ashamed to have anyone know he was her father. She had never mentioned him to anyone she worked with at the flower shop. She had even considered running away, and would have if she had somewhere to go.
Esther put an arm around her and hugged her close, telling her they would work out a solution together.
Rachel broke into sobs, but managed to tell Esther how selfish she felt because she wanted to run away from a bad situation.
Esther held her niece and asked God for wisdom as she patted the girl’s hand.
Soon Rachel pulled herself together and Esther reached out to cup the girl’s chin in her hand, gently turning her head to look into her eyes.
“Rachel, dear, I understand what’s going on inside you. There’s nothing selfish about wanting to get away from the shame and heartache your father has brought on you with his drinking. You’re nineteen years old … a young woman. You want a life of your own, and that’s how it should be.”
Aunt and niece continued to talk in hushed tones for a long time, thinking of and discarding many possible solutions. They didn’t come to any perfect answer, but Rachel felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her. She hugged her aunt and thanked her for talking to her.
The night air that drifted through the city from the Mississippi River had dropped the temperature considerably.
“A nice cup of tea would warm us, don’t you think?” Esther said shivering.
“Sounds good.”
They both finished two cups, then Rachel hugged her aunt, bid her good-night, and disappeared down the dim hall.
Esther went to her room, dropped to her knees beside the bed, and asked God for strength and wisdom. She thanked Him for His mercy and patience with the lost and begged for the salvation of Joseph and Rachel. Her mind went to a favorite passage from the Psalms: “Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.”
Esther wept as she prayed, “Help me, Lord, to wait on You and not to faint. Please help me to pray in faith, believing.”
With an open, trusting heart, Esther Holden left her burdens with the One whose yoke was easy and whose burden was light.
“RACHEL, DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE devastating fire that wiped out one of the shipping companies on the docks last night?” Esther Holden asked.
“My coworkers at the flower shop were talking about it today,” Rachel said. “Sounded pretty bad.”
“I read about it in the paper while you were in your father’s room trying to get him to eat some supper. You can take it to your room and read it if you want.”
“I’ll do that. I didn’t get much food down him, either. Just a little beef broth. Do you suppose when he gets too weak to get out and walk to the store for his whiskey, maybe he’ll sober up?”
“Maybe. I’m sure not going to buy the stuff for him.”
“Trouble is, he’s probably got bottles stashed in places around here we haven’t even thought of.”
Soon niece and aunt bid each other good-night and went to their rooms. Rachel got into her nightgown, turned the bed covers down, and propped up the pillows against the headboard. She opened the newspaper and read the front page story of the fire at the docks, then browsed through the rest of the paper. She came to the classified section, and her eyes landed on a page that carried ads for mail order brides. Rachel’s mind raced as she ran her eyes up and down the columns.
This is it! This is my way out!
Men from nearly every western state and territory had placed ads, and she carefully studied each one. She took a pencil and marked the ads she would respond to. Then she doused the lantern and slipped between the covers.
Rachel felt a strange excitement. Surely one of those men would find her interesting enough to want her for a bride. Even if the situation wasn’t perfect, it would have to be better than her life now. She told herself she would lay down one restriction in each letter: She would not marry a man who was a drinker.
Rachel decided not to tell Aunt Esther what she was doing. When letters from the men started arriving, she would have to come up with some kind of explanation. She felt a bit guilty at the deception but reasoned that if one of the men got serious, she would discuss it with her aunt before making any final decision.
By the end of the first week of May, letters began to arrive. To Rachel’s amazement, Aunt Esther did not question her about them. The letters were lying on her dresser each day when she came home from work, and night after night, Rachel wrote replies to the men whose letters interested her.
One night she opened a letter from a young attorney in North Platte, Nebraska. When she read the name Adam Burke, it sounded familiar, but she decided there was no way she could know a man who lived in Nebraska. There was a warmth and a sincerity to Adam Burke’s letter that was lacking in the others, but in order to keep her options open, she sent replies to other men too.
As the days passed, Rachel waited eagerly to hear back from each of the young men … and especially from Adam Burke.
During the first week of May, Adam Burke began to receive letters from young women—and some not so young—interested in becoming his mail order bride. After he had received seventeen letters, Adam decided to write to the two girls he liked best. One lived on Long Island and the other in Roanoke. He mailed his replies at the Wells Fargo office, picked up his mail, and headed home, sifting through the day’s letters. There were four more responses to his ad. The one on top was from a girl in Jersey City; the second was from Portland, Maine; the third from Milford, Delaware; and the fourth from Memphis.
When he saw the name on the envelope from Memphis, he stopped in his tracks.
A buggy passed by and someone called out, “Hello, Mr. Burke!”
Adam recognized a client and waved. Then his eyes went back to the envelope he had placed on top, and he read the name aloud: “Rachel Mason.” His mind was already trailing back to Philadelphia and the terrible tragedy that took place there. The last name of the woman he had accidentally killed was Mason … Nancy Mason. He moved on down the boardwalk, muttering, “Surely there couldn’t be any connection. Rachel Mason lives in Memphis.”
When Adam arrived at his office, Olivia had som
e papers for him to sign. It was an hour before his next appointment, so Adam secluded himself in his office and read the four letters. He quickly dismissed three of them but was intrigued with the letter from the nineteen-year-old girl in Memphis, Rachel Mason.
He dashed off a reply, telling her that although he had received several letters, so far hers was the one that captivated his interest. He told her that he was from Boston, had graduated from Harvard University Law School, and after working in a law firm for three years, had come to North Platte to start his own practice. He explained that business was good and that he would be able to offer her financial security. He decided to wait to tell her that he was also the recipient of a large portion of an estate connected to Boston Clothiers. He told her as much about himself as he felt he could, and enclosed a photograph that had been taken barely over a year ago.
By May 14, Rachel Mason had received a reply from seven out of thirteen men in the West whose ads she had answered. Three more came that day while she was at work, and Esther laid them on her dresser as she had the others.
Esther was in the hall when Rachel came in the door after work.
“Hello, honey,” Esther said. “How’d it go today?”
“Fine, Aunt Esther.”
“Tired?”
“A little. How’s Daddy?”
“He’s out in the backyard, taking in some sunshine.”
Rachel nodded and started toward her room.
“You received three more letters today, Rachel. You … ah … have me a bit puzzled.”
“I do?”
“Mm-hmm. How is it you have male friends from way out west?”
“Aunt Esther, I haven’t meant to be sneaky but … well, you’ve heard about the mail order brides, haven’t you?”
“Of course. Have … have you been—”
“Yes, I have. I’ve decided that I’ve got to get away from Daddy and have a life of my own.”
Esther folded her niece into her arms and held her close. “Honey, I feel so bad that things have gone like this in your young life. And I understand why you’re doing this, I really do. But I have to be honest about it. I have some misgivings. But I can’t tell you what to do.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Rachel said, pressing her head against Aunt Esther’s shoulder.
“Rachel, you’ve had several letters come. Have you found any that interest you?”
“Some. I’ve written back to those men, and I’ll just have to wait and see what develops. I … I really was going to talk to you about it if I found a man I was interested in. Honest.”
Esther drew back, looked her niece in the eye, and said, “I’m sure you were. At least let me give you my opinion when you think you’ve narrowed it down.”
“I will. I promise.”
Two days later, Rachel received Adam Burke’s letter. Her heart told her this was the man she should marry, especially when she saw his photograph. He was handsome and had kind eyes. In his letter, Adam told her that if they decided they were for each other, he would write to her parents, asking permission to marry her. And if she did come to North Platte to be his bride, he would provide her a room in the town’s nicest hotel until they had gotten to know each other and decided if they would marry. He wanted her to be sure she liked him and the town before they proceeded any further. If they did marry, there was a justice of the peace in town who would perform the ceremony.
Rachel’s heart pounded. She picked up Adam’s first letter and carried them both to her aunt, who was sitting on the top step of the back porch selecting flower seeds to plant in her riotous garden. She smiled as Rachel sat down beside her, then glanced at the letters.
“I think by the look in your eyes you’ve found one you’re really interested in.”
“Yes! Oh, yes! His name is Adam Burke. He’s an attorney with his own law firm in North Platte, Nebraska. He graduated from Harvard University Law School.”
Esther’s eyebrows arched. “Harvard! Really?”
“Yes, and here’s his picture.”
Esther studied the photograph. “Handsome fellow. I like his eyes.”
“Me too,” Rachel said. She extended the letters toward her aunt. “Please. Read them.”
Esther looked at Rachel’s bright face and sparkling eyes and saw happiness that hadn’t been there since before Nancy died. She brushed the dust from her hands and reached for the letters. She thoroughly read them both, then read them again.
Rachel waited and watched.
For a long moment Esther Holden stared out at the backyard, taking in the flowering trees and the lawn that still sparkled with dew. In her heart she was talking to the Lord, and when His peace stole over her, she turned to Rachel with a smile on her wrinkled face. Tears twinkled in her pale blue eyes.
“Child, I’ve prayed long and hard over this situation, and from the happiness I see written all over your face, this has to be the answer I’ve been waiting for. If it’s my blessing you’re wanting, then you have it, and I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
Rachel let out her breath, grabbed her aunt, and hugged her hard. “Thank you, Aunt Esther, for always being there for me and for understanding my need to go on with my life.” She looked into her aunt’s kind face and said, “My only regret is leaving the care of my father to you.”
“Honey, listen. You have a right to live your life to the fullest. Your father and I have lived ours as we have chosen. Now it’s your turn. My brother and I will do just fine, and you know I will stand by him and care for him as long as necessary.”
“Thank you.” Rachel managed a faint smile. “You saw that Adam said he would write my parents and ask them for permission to marry me. What should I do about that?”
Esther thought a moment. “The best thing is to be honest right up front. Tell him your mother is dead and that your father is a hopeless drunk. Better he knows it right now. Just tell him a letter to your father isn’t necessary.” Esther stroked Rachel’s cheek. “Come on, now. Let me see that happy face I saw a few minutes ago. We need to get busy. We have much to do and a wedding to look forward to.”
Again Rachel placed her arms around her aunt’s shoulders and said softly, “I love you, Aunt Esther.”
Esther kissed Rachel’s cheek. “I love you too, honey.”
That evening, Rachel wrote back to Adam Burke and sent a photograph of herself. She explained that she had written several other men but he had interested her more than any of them. She would not make another move until she heard back from him.
As her aunt had suggested, she told him that her mother was dead and explained the situation with her father. Finally, she told him she was accepting his proposal as of this letter, and if he still wanted her to come, to please write as soon as possible and let her know.
Adam Burke was full of joy as he mailed a letter to Rachel Mason, enclosing a check to cover her travel fare and any other expenses. He asked her to wire him the date and time she would arrive at the North Platte railroad station. At the bottom of the letter he thanked her for the photograph, saying she was even more beautiful than he had imagined.
Adam then went to a retired man in town who had a large lot for sale in the nicest part of North Platte. He bought the lot, then went to the office of Donald Wiersby, a homebuilder. Wiersby showed him several sets of plans for houses, and when Adam saw the one he liked best, he wrote a sizable check and told Wiersby to begin construction as quickly as possible.
Only recently had Adam told his secretary that he was putting ads in the newspapers for a mail order bride. As he entered the office, smiling broadly, she said, “My boss looks awfully happy today. Got a secret?”
Adam laughed. “I haven’t told you that a certain young lady in Tennessee and I have been getting serious, have I?”
“Well, no, you haven’t. Let’s hear it.”
Adam explained all about Rachel Mason.
“Mr. Burke,” Olivia said, smiling broadly, “I can’t tell you how happy I am for
you!”
The door opened and Pastor Tom Gann came in, saying he wanted to set an appointment with Adam to discuss some legal matter. Adam invited him to meet with him now, since he didn’t have an appointment scheduled for another two hours. Gann rushed home to get the necessary papers, and when he returned, the two men went into Adam’s office.
The work was done within an hour. Gann pulled out his checkbook and asked what he owed Adam. While he was writing the check, he said, “Adam, you’ve lived in North Platte for quite a while now, but you still haven’t visited the church … even though you’ve told me you would.”
“I really intended to come, Pastor. I just haven’t made it yet.”
Gann handed Adam the check and said, “I’d like to ask you a question.”
“Sure.”
“Let’s say you were to die suddenly today. Where would you go? Heaven or hell?”
“Well, I sure hope I’d go to heaven.”
“You hope?”
“Well, yes. I certainly wouldn’t want to go to hell.”
“So you do believe there’s a hell?”
“Sure. God’s got to have a place to put the souls of really bad people. Like John Wilkes Booth and other cold-blooded murderers … and people who start wars.”
“Adam, people don’t go to hell because they’re bad. And people don’t go to heaven because they’re good.”
Adam’s brow furrowed. “They don’t?”
“You told me your next appointment is a little more than half an hour from now. Could we talk about this until then?”
“Well, I suppose … sure.”
Tom Gann took a small Bible from his pocket and read passages about the sinful nature in all human beings. In God’s sight, no one was good. Then he turned to passages about Jesus’ death and resurrection, explained the gospel plainly, and showed Adam that unless he repented of sin and believed in the Lord Jesus, he would spend eternity in hell. He was about to press Adam for a reply when Olivia tapped on the door and told her boss that his next client was there.