Emily: Army Mail Order Bride

by Mercy Levy

  She ran down the stairs and rushed headlong into the room, where people already scurried around, turning the tables into storage shelves and using pulleys to lower empty old win casks from their storage near the ceiling, to the stage. The piano was moved to one side and stacked with trays and old, dusty glassware, and before Meg could do much more than stare, the room had been transformed into exactly what it used to be, an old store room. At one end, bottles of bourbon and whiskey were hidden behind the old bar, and people quickly shuffled out yet another secret door that Meg hadn’t seen.

  She almost followed them out, but realized that until they had a good reason to, they wouldn’t stop looking. Thinking quickly, she took off her over dress, so that she was in a simple woolen shift with a wool overcoat, like one might expect of a maid. She let down her hair and tied it simply in a bun at her neck as she heard the shouts of officers as they found the switch to the door upstairs, and quickly loaded up a bucket from the corner with cleaning supplies, trying not to cry as she turned beautiful cream dress inside out and wadded it into the bottom of the large mop pail.

  She didn’t need to feign fear as the police rushed down the stairs to meet her, pretending to be on her way back up. They looked at her, wide eyed and dirty, wisps of hair falling in her face and her boots covered in grime. They looked around the room, and dumbly, Meg followed their eyes, secretly thrilled with the result of the quick-acting musicians and barkeep who had transformed the lively space into a veritable storage-dungeon. It looked like the place had never seen enough light, let alone been swinging with music and card games.

  There was a half-hearted search, but before they could even complete that, uncle Daschle, Will, and some city official that Meg half-remembered from a dinner party came down the stairs. The poor uniforms looked gobsmacked. They had no excuse for the raid, beyond the word of a drunk who said he’d been party to games and drinking down here, then refused entry for flirting with the owner’s girl.

  At that, the uniformed officers glanced at the dirty little redhead with the mop bucket, almost in unison. Just as quickly, they dismissed the thought and the cop in charge made his hesitant apologies and they slowly made their way up the stairs. Will said he’d stay behind to console his poor maid, and the discomfited officers shuffled out of the restaurant. As soon as they were alone, Will grabbed Meg by the shoulders and shook her, hard.

  “What were you thinking?” He hissed, before wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her so tight she couldn’t breathe. He kissed her, hard and long, until her knees were jelly and she clung to him to stay upright. “Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

  “I thought that if they didn’t see anyone, they’d keep looking until they found what they were looking for.” She replied, pointing toward the other secret door. “But a dirty maid, in the poorly lit storage room? Why would anyone look any further?” He kissed her again and thanked her for her quick thinking.

  She pulled the dress out of the pail and turned it inside right, and even wrinkled, Will declared it perfect for the occasion. He went a little way up the stairs so she could dress, and left her in the library to finish cleaning up, closing the curtain across the doorway so he could talk to the police without her being bothered. Once her clothes and hair were set to rights, she began re-shelving the books, and after a few minutes, Alma joined her. She told Meg that the police were leaving, ad because of the excitement, even more people were waiting to eat, (and more were waiting to go downstairs too) she added under her breath.

  Still no one passed by them, and Meg was disappointed that it seemed the party was canceled for them. Will treated the family to a gigantic creole French supper, and they listened to the accordion musician and talked to other friends who had barely missed the exciting raid, filling them in on the details. Meg blushed when William told her part in the adventure, and swore that he was embellishing greatly, but Alma just reached over and rubbed a thumb across her nose, then showed her the dust there, which made Meg blush even harder.

  At eleven o’clock, the restaurant was closed, and everyone not headed to a party of their own, followed Will down the stairs. Meg sadly followed her aunt and uncle, wondering if they could really have any fun with the room so changed. She perked up her ears when she heard music floating up the staircase, and as she turned the corner, her jaw dropped in disbelief. It was as though nothing had happened.

  The lights were burning bright, tables were out and a lively card game going. The piano was at the side of the small stage, and the casks were hanging above her head once more, when she looked up.

  “How?” She whispered to Will. He grinned and winked at the barkeep, who waved his hands and shouted for the music and talking to cease.

  “To our lady of the evening!” He called out, toasting Meg with an upraised glass. “The little lady who stayed behind and saved the evening, and the speakeasy!” Meg ducked her head and tried to hide behind Will.

  “To Meg!” Alma chimed in, hugging her from behind. “To the southern belle who completely befuddled the cops, and saved New Year’s Eve!” eventually, the cheers died down and Meg was seated with her family at a table, a bottle of fine, aged scotch in front of them, listening to jazz that sounded so bright Meg would have believed it was springtime outside.

  A few minutes before midnight, Will spoke to the pianist, who slowed the tempo of the music, and while a rolling jazz ballad was sung by the saxophone, He took Meg’s hand and led her to the dancefloor. Holding her tight, they circled the floor, her head resting against his heartbeat, until he tipped her face up so he could look into her eyes.

  “You put yourself out on a limb for me,” He murmured, shaking his head. “There really isn’t a way to repay you, but is there any way to show you how much I appreciate you?” She smiled and sighed. She was already exactly where she wanted to be, in a frozen wonderland where she could read and play music and speak her thoughts. There really wasn’t anything better. So, she asked for the one thing only he could give her, then, and forever, as far as her heart was concerned.

  “Bring me my luck for the new year, William.” She asked, pulling is face down to hers. “Kiss me now, and tomorrow, and as long as I can have you.”

  He kissed her sweetly, then deepened it as cheers went up all around them and the clock was counted down. Nine, eight, seven… he told her loved her and kissed her again. Five four three…she told him she was his forever. The clock struck midnight, and the dipped her back and kissed her as deeply as he had ever done, until he took her breath away. He lifted her back to her feet and held her tight, staring into her eyes, glazed with need and desire.

  “Oh, my sweet jazz darling. Happy New Year, my beautiful Meg.”

  THE END

  Ethel’ Inspirational Journey

  Chapter 1 – Running the Fields

  “Come on, Starboy! I know you can go faster than that! Hya!” Ethel dug her heels into the horse’s side and slapped his hindquarters with her open palm. The horse whinnied and reared, his hooves flailing at the air. But Ethel wasn’t afraid; she continued to prompt the horse to go faster.

  She yanked on his reigns, turning him back toward the stable and digging her heels into his sides once more. The horse sidestepped for a minute before complying with her commands and moving in the direction Ethel wanted.

  “There you go! Hya!” Ethel continued to yell as she dug her heels into the animal’s side again. The horse began to pick up speed, reaching for the ground in long strides and keeping its neck extended to its fullest length. Ethel encouraged the animal to let go and run with as much force as it could, and the horse happily obliged.

  The trees which lined both sides of the road leading to her father’s mansion passed in a blur, and Ethel dared not look at them lest her subtle movement cause the horse to veer off track and potentially throw her off.

  “Easy there, that’s right. Slow down then!” Ethel pulled back on the horse’s reigns as they entered the gate to her father’s mansion. She knew her fath
er preferred her to walk the horses along the path leading to the stables, but Ethel wasn’t about to get off the animal now. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she almost felt like she and the animal were one being.

  She rode Starboy around the side of the house and to the stable, only dismounting when Jonathan, the stable boy, grabbed the reigns from her.

  “How was he today, Ma’am?” Jonathan asked and Ethel patted the horse’s sweaty neck.

  “He fought me a little on the north end, but once he opened up for me it was a smooth ride – and fast!” Ethel twirled around the stable and Jonathan laughed. Other horses stepped forward, pushing against the doors of their stalls and begging for Ethel’s attention. She grabbed a handful of oats from an open feedbag and walked over to Maria, her father’s favorite mare.

  As the horse eagerly ate the treat, Ethel stroked the animal’s long neck. She knew how to cool down and tend to a horse after a long ride, but Jonathan had already taken Starboy from her, and he was pulling off the saddle on the other side of the stable.

  “Do you want some help there?” she called out to him.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I do believe it’ll be quicker if I just do it myself. He likes the way I tend to his feet after a run.” Jonathan gave her a wink and Ethel smiled. She knew that Jonathan liked her, but he was a stable boy and she was the daughter of a respected horse breeder. She thought Jonathan a kind young man, but she knew that there would never be a romantic relationship between them.

  Ethel walked over to Starboy once more, patting him on the neck and commending him on his afternoon run. He could smell the oats on her hand, and he did his best to lick them, but she laughed and hid them behind her back.

  “Sorry boy, you can’t eat that soon after running, or you’ll make yourself ill. I’ll tell you what, when I come back tomorrow, I will bring you something special from the garden, would you like that?” She continued to move her hands away from the horse’s eager lips, and with a final pat on his neck, she turned and walked out of the stable, smoothing the front of her dress.

  Ethel looked at the wrinkles in her skirt in dismay, then she shook her head. Mrs. Smith, her governess, would be disappointed when she saw the rumpled look of the gown, and Ethel knew the woman would immediately know how she’d gotten into such a state.

  It wasn’t that Mrs. Smith disapproved of Ethel’s love for horses, but she did disapprove of Ethel riding them as she did. Mrs. Smith believed that if a woman was to go for a ride, she was to use a side saddle, she was to keep the horse at a leisurely pace, and she was to conduct herself with the highest degree of decorum.

  Horseracing simply wasn’t an option for women, although it was racing that Ethel wished to do most. Of course, she knew that there was no way she would be allowed to compete in a real race, but it didn’t stop her from dreaming. She was small, and although she was a beautiful young woman, she didn’t possess the curves that many of the other girls her age had.

  Ethel had always been a bit of a tomboy at heart; Mrs. Smith put it down to Esther’s mother having passed when Ethel was very young. Her father, hoping to turn her into a refined young woman, hired a governess to raise her properly and although Ethel did her best to please both her father and Mrs. Smith when she was in their presence, as soon as she had any time to herself she would return to her tomboyish ways.

  She would ride a horse like a man, she would speak her mind without fear of what anyone would say about it, and she would speak of horseracing with as much knowledge as any of the men could.

  Ethel opened the door to the kitchen and glanced around. If she could slip to her room unnoticed, she would not receive a lecture from Mrs. Smith. The woman could make sure she was a refined young lady on the outside, but on the inside, Ethel Miller was a racer through and through.

  Chapter 2 – Unexpected News

  “Sit up straight and pull your shoulders back. I’ve told you time and time again how to sit like a lady, and you continue to slouch!” Mrs. Smith shook her head at Ethel, and Ethel made a point of sitting as rigidly in the chair as she could. Mrs. Smith sighed.

  “You hopeless girl! How do you suppose you are going to get a husband when you behave like a wild animal – and smell like one, too?” Mrs. Smith gave her a look of disgust and Ethel had to fight to keep herself from smiling. She liked smelling like a horse, although she knew it must now be obvious to Mrs. Smith what she had been doing all afternoon.

  Mrs. Smith looked at her with disapproval and Ethel sensed a lecture was imminent, but they were interrupted by Mr. Miller.

  “Father! I’ve missed you!” Ethel squealed. She was about to jump up from her seat next to the small tea table, but she suddenly remembered her manners and rose as gracefully as she could. She walked over and gave him a light hug and a kiss on the cheek, then she turned her attention back to the tea table.

  “Would you care to join us?” she asked, pouring her father a cup of tea. He smiled and removed his hat, then sat where Ethel had placed his tea. Ethel smiled; her father had been away from Kentucky for nearly a month, traveling to other horse stables and making deals with other breeders. She was used to him traveling, but she was always thrilled when he came home.

  “How was your trip, Father?” Ethel asked. He took a sip of his tea and gave her a light shake of his head.

  “I have to admit, things could be going better,” he said grimly, and Ethel looked at him, her brow furrowing with curiosity.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, and he pulled out a piece of paper from his suit pocket.

  “I mean there are going to be some changes going on around here, and I mean some big ones. I am spending money faster than I am making it, I’m afraid. I know this is all coming as a shock as I have not mentioned it to either of you before, but trust me, business is not as good as it used to be.” He looked down at the paper, and Ethel waited for him to continue.

  “Mrs. Smith, I appreciate all you have done for my daughter, but I think the time has come for her to take the next step in life on her own.” He smiled at Mrs. Smith who cleared her throat.

  “Am I to understand that you are letting me go?” she asked at last, and he nodded.

  “I am afraid I have no choice. I know I’ve been in the horse business a long time. A long time.” He shook his head as he spoke, and Ethel felt her heart sink. She took another sip of her tea, trying to remain calm and let her father finish what he had to say.

  “I think it’s time I sell my stock here, then travel abroad. I hear there is a wonderful market for sheep farmers in England right now, and I’ve handled sheep before. What do you say, Ethel? Shall we call it a day and move to England?” he winked at his daughter, but she couldn’t contain herself any longer.

  Flying to her feet, Ethel put both her hands on the table in front of her. She ignored the look of horror Mrs. Smith gave her, and glared at her father.

  “Father! What are you saying? We can’t sell the horses! Or the house! Am I to understand you wish for me to leave my life behind and start a new life as a sheep farmer? In England? This is the land of opportunity, and those animals represent the freedom we have here – you can’t do this, Father! You simply cannot!” The longer she spoke, the more passion Ethel felt as she tried to convince her father to change his mind.

  He looked at her with an odd smile, then reached forward and patted her hand.

  “My Dear, you know you are the light of my life, and you are the very reason that I breathe. Ever since your mother passed you have been the absolute center of my world, and I hate to think that I am doing anything that would upset you. However, I need to do what is best for the family, and if we stay here it is only a matter of time before we are ruined completely.

  “I’ve done what I can to ensure that you are happy and healthy, and I have even secured you a wonderful governess to teach you everything that I myself could not. But I need you to trust me on this, and when I say we are going to move to England, we are going to move to England.” He
gave her hand another pat, then turned his attention back to the tea in front of him.

  Mrs. Smith began asking him questions about what he planned to do next, but Ethel’s mind was spinning. She couldn’t keep up with her thoughts as they rushed through her brain.

  How could her father be so casual about this? Why was he so insistent they ought to go to England? Most importantly of all, what would become of the horses?

  Chapter 3 – Troublesome Changes

  Ethel climbed out of bed slowly, resenting the overcast day. She didn’t usually hate rain, but now it only served to make her somber mood feel even worse. She walked over to her wardrobe and selected her dark maroon dress, slipping it on and pulling her stockings up over her knees.

  She walked over to the mirror and pulled her long braid over her shoulder. She pulled the ribbon off the end, then began expertly unwinding the brain until her dirty blonde waves fell about her shoulders.

  She looked into her own green eyes, and although she smiled at her reflection, she couldn’t hide the sadness, and that only made her feel even more sorry for herself than she had before. She grabbed the long locks hair that hung around her face and twisted them behind her head and secured them into place with a pin. She allowed the rest of her hair to hang down her back, perfectly complimenting her small frame.

  After checking herself in the mirror once more, Ethel walked over to the door. She put her hand on the doorknob, suddenly realizing how odd it would be to walk downstairs and find that Mrs. Smith was not waiting for her.