American Mail-Order Bride Series
Book 13
Alice
Bride of Rhode Island
By
Kristy McCaffrey
Alice: Bride of Rhode Island is thirteenth in the unprecedented 50-book American Mail-Order Brides series.
Fleeing her stepfather and an arranged marriage in Newport, Alice Endicott finds work as a seamstress at the Brown Textile Mill near Boston. When a devastating fire destroys the factory, she and all the girls face dire unemployment circumstances. But hope arrives when their manager, Roberta McDaniel, shares the Grooms’ Gazette with them. Each woman will choose a husband and become a mail-order bride. As Alice’s friends—Lottie, Leora, Judith, Beth, Lessie and Josie—embrace the idea, she too becomes caught up in the excitement of a grand new adventure.
When fisherman Frank Martel contacts her, Alice can’t pass up the opportunity to return to Rhode Island despite her stepfather’s presence. Upon arriving at the train station in Tiverton, however, Frank neglects to meet her.
James Martel is shocked to find a woman at the rail depot claiming to be his brother’s fiancée. Even more surprising is her connection to a man who ruined James’ father years before. When Frank confesses that he can no longer wed Alice, James steps forward to fill the role since the beautiful young woman holds the key to avenging the Martel name.
Can Alice convince her new husband that their marriage is worth saving once she discovers his subterfuge? And will James learn that love is more important than revenge?
A sweet romance set in 1890 America.
Don’t miss the entire series—one bride for each state.
Copyright 2015 by K. McCaffrey LLC
All Rights Reserved
Cover by EDHGraphics
Edited by Truelove Press
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Dedication
My sincere gratitude to Kirsten Osbourne for inviting me to participate in such a tremendous project. I’m not sure any of us knew what we were getting into when we signed up, but we all weathered the ups and downs and can now see the light at the end of a very crowded tunnel (we had 45 authors trying to keep the facts straight while also flexing our creative muscles—no easy task).
And a warm thanks to my smaller collaborative group—Kit Morgan, Ashley Merrick, Hildie McQueen, Kristin Holt and Madison Johns. I promise not to bug any of you for more snippets from your stories.
Prologue
Lawrence, Massachusetts
Early October 1890
Alice paced near the tiny fireplace, female chatter from the kitchen beckoning. Making up her mind, she moved to the entrance where her friends were preparing supper.
“I have a dilemma,” she announced.
Judith looked up from the table, blowing wisps of reddish brown hair from her face as she ceased the chopping of two large heads of cabbage. They’d been lucky to purchase them with the rationing of funds from Lottie’s betrothed. Samuel Cooke had kept them fed when few resources were left to them; Lottie was lucky to have found a good man.
Beth stopped at the edge of the table, the pot in her hand poised mid-air. “What’s wrong, Alice?”
“I need to make a decision. I need everyone’s help.” Alice held out a letter.
Leora gasped. “Did you get a response from Mr. Hughes?”
Alice shook her head.
Leora crossed the room, took the missive from Alice, and began reading it. Finally, she raised her gaze, her dark eyes pools of concern. “I don’t understand. Who is Frank Martel?”
“I received this letter nearly a week ago,” Alice said. “He learned of our predicament through business channels and sought me out. I’ve yet to hear from Mr. Hughes in Iowa.” Alice paused, seeking to quiet her nerves. She was both distressed and excited. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will. And this Mr. Martel shows great promise.”
Judith frowned. “Has he proposed?”
Alice plastered a half-smile onto her lips. “Yes.”
Silence engulfed the room.
“This sounds very untoward,” Leora said quietly.
“I know what you’re thinking. I thought the very same thing. So I took the letter to Miss McDaniel.” Roberta McDaniel had been their manager at the Brown Textile Mill until it had burned down a month ago. In her efforts to help all the unmarried women in her employ, she’d encouraged them to consider the possibility of becoming mail-order brides. To that end, she’d instructed the girls to choose a husband from the Grooms’ Gazette, an advertisement of prospective grooms. “She contacted the matchmaker responsible for her sister’s happy union—I believe her name is Elizabeth Miller—and they both investigated. Frank Martel passed inspection.”
“Why would you change your mind?” Beth asked. “You liked that Mr. Hughes. I think you should wait.”
“How much longer can any of us delay?” Alice asked, panic rising in her voice. “We’re running out of money. In no time at all, we won’t be able to put food on the table. If I accept, it not only helps me, but all of you. The less people in the house, the better.”
If only the process had moved as quickly as it had for Lessie and Josie. The twins had found grooms in lightning speed, leaving so quickly for Utah Territory that Alice hadn’t had a chance to say farewell.
Leora placed an arm around Alice. “We’ll get by somehow. Please don’t rush into this on our account.”
The girls nodded in agreement.
After the factory fire, Alice hadn’t been able to pay for the room she rented in a meager apartment of an elderly couple. They hadn’t wanted to evict her, but they’d had no choice. Had Leora and her sister Lottie not taken Alice into their small home along with Judith and Beth—Alice would have faced the very real possibility of begging on the street.
Alice fought back tears. It was bad enough that Lottie was already gone. Despite the cramped conditions of their living situation, her absence left a gaping emptiness. Soon they would each be on their way to a new life with a new husband. Alice tried not to imagine how much she would miss them. She’d found true friends here.
“Wait a moment.” Leora glanced at the letter again. “Does this Mr. Martel live in Rhode Island?”
A genuine smile spread on Alice’s face. “Yes.” She felt almost giddy about the prospect.
“That’s why you want this?” Leora grabbed Alice’s hand and squeezed gently. “You wish to go home?”
“I can’t deny that it tugs at me in a way I had no idea it would.”
“But what about your stepfather?” Beth asked.
With blonde tresses and similar features, she and Beth were sometimes mistaken for sisters. But her closest friend engaged life with a feisty demeanor that eluded Alice. More than once she had wished she was more like her.
Alice had fled Newport and her stepfather, Daniel Endicott, to live a life independent from his control. It had been difficult these past weeks not to write to him and request help. His wealth would have alleviated so many issues for the girls, but the price would have been Alice’s total acquiescence. They all knew that and had forbidden her to even
consider it.
“Frank Martel lives in Tiverton, a good distance from Newport,” Alice replied. “It’s unlikely I’d ever cross paths with my stepfather. And besides, I’d be married. There’d be nothing he could do to me. Also, Mr. Martel is a fisherman, just like my papa was so many years ago. When I was a child, Papa took me to Tiverton. It just seems like this was all meant to be.” Alice bit her lip. “What do you all think?”
Judith stood and hugged Alice. “It must be fate.”
They rocked back and forth, laughing. Beth soon joined in, despite her obvious reservations.
When Alice stood back, she caught Leora’s somber expression.
“I’m happy for you,” Leora said. “Truly I am. But promise me you’ll be safe. Write to us. If he turns out to have misrepresented his situation, then leave immediately. If it comes down to it, all of us will ask our new husbands to find a groom for you.”
Everyone nodded.
It had been years since Alice had had this feeling of love and support, before she’d lost her mother, before her mama had remarried a man who had purported to support the memory of her father but hadn’t.
Alice looked, one by one, at her friends. “I’m going to miss each of you so much.”
“I’ll tell you what I’m not going to miss,” Judith said, wrinkling her nose, “and that’s Beth’s cabbage soup.”
Beth sighed. “To be truthful, I’d be happy to never eat cabbage soup again for the rest of my life. But right now, I’m hungry, so we had best set it to simmer.” She began scooping the cabbage pieces from the table and placing them into the pot.
Alice settled herself at the table with Judith and helped her to knead dough for tomorrow’s bread while Leora placed the already-risen dough into the cast-iron oven. As they always did, they shared news of fellow factory girls who’d received letters from potential grooms while they reflected on whether the matches would be good ones and marveled at how far some of them would travel to have a hearth they would be able to call their own.
It was truly one of the happiest moments of Alice’s life.
* * * *
Alice folded her cotton work blouses and skirts and placed them into her satchel, atop the one fancy gown she’d brought from Newport. She’d never worn it while in Lawrence, but Beth had recently borrowed it for an evening with her potential groom George Montgomery. Her friend had looked stunning and Alice was glad she’d thought to bring it.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Tomorrow she would board a train bound for Rhode Island and a new husband.
I hope I made the right decision.
“A letter from Lottie!” Judith yelled from the first floor.
Alice dropped the clothing and bolted from the tiny bedroom she shared with Beth then ran down the narrow staircase. Beth and Leora were already seated in the kitchen so Alice joined them as Judith broke the seal.
Dear Leora, Beth, Alice, and Judith,
Sam and I have only one day left before we reach Clear Creek. Our journey has been quite eventful. We stopped over in Chicago, as Sam said we would, and took in some sights, including that of our former employer, Bob Brown! I cannot begin to describe my shock when I saw him in the very hotel we were staying! Unfortunately, my new husband forbade me to pursue any sort of contact, so you can imagine my disappointment. Do not despair, Sam was kind enough to offer to help me discover what happened the day of the fire, but he won’t let me pursue it by myself any longer. I’ll send you what information he is able to glean.
In the meantime, I hope you are all doing well. Leora, I’m sure you are preparing to leave for California, as are you, Alice and Judith. I hope you find much happiness with your new husbands. And Beth, my guess is that, by now, you’ve heard back from your gentleman. I can’t wait to hear about him.
All my love,
Lottie
“She sounds as if she’s doing well,” Judith remarked, grinning.
Leora knitted her brow. “But she just can’t let go of the fact that Mr. Brown might’ve burned down his own factory.”
Alice stood and retrieved the coffeepot from the stove then refilled everyone’s half-empty cups. “She should just let it be, as should you Beth.”
Alice worried that Beth’s curiosity might lead her into trouble.
“Someone needs to hold Mr. Brown accountable,” Beth responded, her quiet voice resolute.
“At least Lottie’s new husband has stepped in,” Judith added, a twinkle in her eye. “He seems to have figured her out already.”
Alice laughed. She wondered if Frank Martel would prove to be just as well-suited to her.
Chapter One
Tiverton, Rhode Island
Late October 1890
Alice Endicott exited the train, wound tight with anticipation. Carrying a satchel in each hand filled with all of her possessions, she paused and scanned the Tiverton rail station. Her betrothed, Frank Martel, had promised to meet her.
A handful of passengers disembarked onto the narrow wooden platform and swarmed around her as they filed into the modest two-story building. The unpleasant odor of burning coal hit her, and she coughed, but an even more disagreeable stench of rotting fish soon replaced it. The rail stop sat on the water—she’d overheard another gentleman say it was the Sakonnet River—so she supposed there was much fishing up and down the banks, hence the overwhelming foul aroma. Setting her bags down, Alice retrieved a kerchief from her belongings and placed it against her nose. She hoped that waiting on the platform would aid Mr. Martel in finding her.
Tiverton wasn’t a large town. She’d had to travel from Boston to Providence, then to Fall River—only eight miles away, but in Massachusetts nonetheless—until finally reaching her new home. Despite the lengthy journey, the Old Colony Railroad had been prompt; a quick glance at a pocket watch that had once belonged to her papa showed that she was right on time.
Eye contact with several passing gentleman proved unfruitful. None of them approached, although two gave her a pleasant nod of greeting. Grasping her bags and holding her breath against the God-awful smell, she slowly walked into the station building.
In the now nearly vacant lobby, Alice sat on a bench and waited. At the far end of the room a clerk busied himself behind a counter, helping an occasional customer. Across from Alice, a boy, likely not older than fifteen, organized his supplies of shoe shine equipment after the recent rush of customers. The train remained outside and would surely be departing soon to cross the Stone Bridge to Portsmouth, then on to Newport.
Alice watched the boy for a while. She brushed the wrinkles from her clothes...stared at the dust motes drifting through a shaft of late-afternoon light...smoothed back a loose strand of hair. After what seemed like hours, she checked her watch again. It had only been fifty-five minutes, but disappointment lodged like a weight at the base of her lungs.
Mr. Martel must have been detained.
She didn’t have much money, but it seemed her only option was to make her way to him.
Checking that her bonnet was snug, she tucked the kerchief into the cuff of her moss green walking dress in order to keep it handy. The snug wool garment had kept her warm on the chilly journey. It was the nicest outfit she owned; she’d wanted to look her best when she met Frank. When she’d fled her stepfather two years prior, she’d left most of her fine gowns and day dresses behind.
She stood, fetched her bags, and moved out of the train station. A striking woman in a cocoa-colored ensemble that matched her brown hair passed by, and Alice’s eye caught on the bonnet situated high upon the woman’s head. Atop it sat a replica of a bird’s nest. A pang of envy sliced into Alice over the woman’s stature and easy confidence.
One day perhaps I will have such certainty in myself.
“Miss, could you spare a penny?”
Alice turned to find a young boy, probably nine or ten years old, in ragged clothes staring earnestly up at her.
“You poor thing,” Alice said. “Where do you live? Where are you
r parents?”
The boy shrugged.
Alice set down her bags and considered the coins in her reticule dangling from her wrist. She really didn’t have much to spare. It had been over a month since the fire at the factory where she’d worked, and she’d had no income since. Marriage wasn’t just some romantic notion for her; she was in desperate need of food, lodging, and a warm hearth.
Miss McDaniel had been endlessly supportive to Alice and the other girls left nearly destitute after the fire, and it was she who’d helped to arrange the marriages. Alice had never desired to wed, especially after her forced betrothal to William Evans by her stepfather, but she’d quickly come to realize that her notions were too fanciful. Her friends had all embraced becoming mail-order brides, finally convincing Alice to do the same.
Even in the darkest of hours, Alice had been determined to never return to her stepfather, despite the financial respite that would’ve brought.
The boy grabbed her hand and began tugging for her to follow.
Alice attempted to stop him. “No. I can’t go with you. I must get to Martel Fishing Enterprises.”
“Please come, miss,” the boy pleaded. “I want to show you something.”
“Toby!” A man’s voice startled Alice. “Leave the woman alone.”
Alice turned to see a tall, imposing man approach. His stern expression made her wonder if he was the father. The boy—Toby—released her hand. Alice stepped back to let the gentleman handle the child.
“Run along now,” he said. “You know better than to harass the passengers.”
“Is he your son?” Alice asked.
The man’s gaze shifted to her, and she stared into his blue-green eyes. A black hat covered ebony hair, and his broad frame filled a double-breasted sable frock coat in fine form.
Alice: Bride of Rhode Island (American Mail-Order Bride 13) Page 1