Mail Order Devastation (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 4)

by Julianna Blake

  But as she watched his eyes light up while he talked about his work, and his plans for improvements to the store, she realized just how important his store was to him. It only made her feel worse when he complimented her, and told her how lovely she looked, and how he thought she would make the perfect shopkeeper’s wife. She felt miserably guilty. It was true she had never lied to him—he never asked if she was pure, nor if she had children. He had only asked if she’d ever been married or engaged, which of course, she hadn’t. He surely assumed from her responses, and from her mention of having been brought up in a strict Catholic household, that she had never fallen from grace.

  But she had fallen. How would that look, in his eyes? In the eyes of the townspeople he served? Would they lose respect for him? Could it hurt his business? When she got Nell back, would he throw her out? Would the townspeople look at her the same way that the neighbors and certain parishioners and neighbors back in Boston had looked at her, once they discovered her secret sin?

  She had only been in town for a day, but already she loved Helena—the beautiful scenery, the open space, the slower pace of life, the friendly townspeople who smiled—instead of scowling—as she passed by. The idea of losing all that frightened her. Even more, she didn’t want to lose the man in front of her, who was a better man than she’d ever hoped to marry.

  “Miss Quinn?”

  She jumped as Mrs. Porter spoke her name. “I’m sorry…what was that?”

  “You seem distracted,” Mrs. Porter commented. “Are you alright? Are we tiring you out?”

  “Oh, no, of course not. I’ve only just got here. Our meals haven’t even arrived.”

  “But if you’re tired, we’d understand…”

  Mollie was pleased to see the flash of disappointment in Noah’s eyes. “No, truly, I’m alright. But please forgive me if I’ve fallen out of the conversation. Being in a new environment can be very distracting.”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Jamison.

  He gave her a warm smile, and she noticed that he had slight dimples in his cheeks. How adorable! She felt a stirring of attraction for him—a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time, and that she wondered if she could feel for any man again.

  Nell’s father had been very attractive—light blond hair, blue eyes, and a winning smile. He had been charming and full of wit, and though her instincts told her to beware—that he was not a devout Christian, let alone Catholic, and therefore not a real candidate for marriage—she let her emotions and her baser feelings distract her from what was really important.

  And that distraction had led to her downfall.

  Don’t let yourself be distracted from your mission, Mollie. You’re here to find Nell. And to make Noah a happy man, that’s true. But your happiness can’t come until after you find her. Until then, you must feel nothing!

  But as the dinner wore on, she found herself meditating more and more on the amiable qualities of Noah Jamison. He spoke fondly of his deceased father, and it sounded as if he and his mother had cooperative work habits at the store. That boded well for her, since it hinted that perhaps Mrs. Jamison wouldn’t be a controlling or intrusive mother-in-law. She’d heard enough stories from her old schoolmates, once they married, that she knew the relationships with in-laws could be difficult. She’d need as much autonomy as possible in order to find Nell quickly.

  Not only did he seem to have had a much more peaceful upbringing than Mollie had, but he also had made many friends in the ten years since he had come to Montana. And Mrs. Porter had brought up the fact that, although Noah hadn’t been a frequent attendee at Mass, he had often contributed to church-sponsored charity drives and helped out with community events, as his mother did. He was embarrassed by Mrs. Porter’s boasting, and brushed it off, but that humility impressed Mollie all the more.

  When they’d finished dinner, Mrs. Porter excused herself. “I promised Clay I’d use the hotel’s front desk telephone at six o’clock, to call over to the butcher shop’s telephone. He’s going to update me on how the baby is doing, so I’ll know if we can stay long enough for dessert. It’s almost six, and I don’t want to leave Clay sitting in the dark down in the shop, waiting for my call, while poor Herman is upstairs wrangling the children.”

  “You don’t have a telephone line upstairs?” Mr. Jamison asked as he stood and walked around to pull Mrs. Porter’s chair back for her as she got up.

  “No. Most of the shop owners along the street only have a line in their shop. Clay felt that running the wiring upstairs was just ostentatious—he said his legs work just fine, and he can walk downstairs to make a call in the evening, should one be urgent enough. And why would anyone call us at night? How embarrassing, to risk interrupting someone’s supper to ask a question about a side of beef!” she laughed. “I’ll just be a minute. If everything is fine with Chandler at home, we can order coffee or tea, and some dessert.”

  Mollie dabbed the linen napkin to her lips as Mr. Jamison sat down again. She was glad to have a few minutes alone with him, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Miss Quinn, do you think you’d want a telephone line installed at home, so that you could call me at the shop if there was an emergency?”

  The question brought a reality to their situation—if all went well, they truly would be a married couple, sharing a home. Mollie felt the awkwardness that filled the air for a moment, and suspected that the weight of the topic had just hit him, as well. She was touched that he was thinking of her well-being already.

  “I think that would be very thoughtful of you—” she began, then froze. If I could telephone him, then he could telephone me, too…and realize that I wasn’t at home. “Uh…that is…” she swallowed “…at some point in the future, it would be something to consider. But you just spoke of improvements you want to make—and that you don’t even have a line in your watch shop, yet. Improvements cost money, and we’ll be buying a house. So perhaps we should do all those things first, and worry about a second phone line at the house at a later date.”

  He frowned. “It’s true that I don't have a phone line yet, but I just hadn’t considered it a necessary expense. Until now, Mother and I have worked together almost every day, and I’ve lived with her, too. I saw no need for it, because we’re always together. But since most businesses along Main Street have installed a telephone line, and they are spreading like wildfire throughout the town and even to nearby farms, I could lose business to another shop that has a telephone. I’m not the only shop that sells watches, as you can imagine. In fact, one can buy clocks in a mercantile or watches in one of the jewelry shops in town. I must admit that the more the town grows, the more important it is for me to keep with the times.”

  “Exactly. If you had a telephone line, a customer could telephone you with a question, before they make a trip down to the store. You wouldn’t want to lose out to the competition, who does have a line in their business.”

  “You’re right. I can’t risk that. But then, if I’m putting in a telephone at the shop, why not install one in our home as well?”

  “True, but there’s still the expense of a new house to consider.”

  “Actually, there isn’t.”

  Mollie blinked, surprised. “There’s not?” Please, please don’t tell me we’ll be living with your mother!

  “No.” He shook his head, with a broad smile. “I hope you don’t think it bold of me, but I…I’ve already bought us a new house. It seemed so unfeeling to force my new bride to spend her days after our wedding sharing a home with her mother-in-law. I feel bad enough that I can’t take you on a real honeymoon trip—I just can’t leave Mother for so long, running the shop alone.”

  “That’s alright, you warned me of that, and I truly understand. I’m just…so surprised!”

  “Good! I wanted to surprise you. I moved into it last week. It’s all ready for you to move in and make it our home. That is, if…” he reached across the table and took her hand “…you’re ready to be my
wife.”

  She stared at him in shock. “I can’t believe you went to all that expense, before we even married—before I even arrived! A new house,” she breathed. “You bought a house, for me.”

  “For us.” He winked at her. “If you’ll have me.”

  Mollie gasped. “Of course I’ll have you! Oh, how wonderful!” It was the happiest she’d been since Nell had been taken. Her incredibly generous bridegroom had thought of everything. She had assumed they’d have to spend at least a week with his mother while they looked for a new home. Perhaps longer—she didn’t know how long such things took. Instead, they could marry and she’d move in right away…and that meant finding Nell all the sooner.

  “You’re happy, then? I was worried you’d be upset that I bought one without consulting you.”

  “Not at all.” Mollie shook her head, blinking back tears. “I just want to be settled and start our new life together. I trust that you found a home that will work for us. And if there is anything about it that isn’t a good fit, we’ll find a way to make it work.”

  “I’m so glad you feel that way. I was worried you’d be hurt. But don’t worry—I’ve only picked out a bed and a dining table. The rest of the home is a clean slate. You can choose the rest of the furnishings, the coverlet, the curtains, everything.”

  “That sounds perfect!”

  From behind her, Mollie heard the sound of someone clearing her throat. Then Madeline Porter appeared at their side, and she and Mr. Jamison pulled let go of each other’s hands as if they were on fire. Mr. Jamison jumped up and pulled out Mrs. Porter’s chair, then pushed it in as she sat down.

  Mollie blushed, and he kept his eyes downcast as he sat down again.

  “Really, Mr. Jamison!” Mrs. Porter whispered, her eyes narrowed. “I was only gone a minute, and you’re holding her hand in a public restaurant? And you men wonder why I insist on chaperoning you until the wedding?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Really.”

  “I apologize, Mrs. Porter. I just got carried away. I told Miss Quinn my surprise—I bought us a house already.”

  Mrs. Porter’s eyes widened. “Oh, Mr. Jamison…” her eyes flicked to Mollie. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a young lady. It’s pressure enough on the girls that the men have taken on the costs of the journey here! I told you both, either one of you is free to call things off if it doesn’t feel right. And now you’ve bought her a house…”

  “It’s alright, Mrs. Porter,” Mollie interrupted. “I don’t mind. Really, I’m glad. I had already decided that if Mr. Jamison was ready to marry me, then I was ready too. The house doesn’t change anything. I’m very eager to become Mrs. Noah Jamison.” She smiled at him.

  “Really?” Mr. Jamison appeared relieved. “I’m so glad to hear that.” He turned to Mrs. Porter. “I was going to wait until I walked you across the street, after dinner, but…I’d really appreciate it if we didn’t have to dilly-dally with the wedding preparations. I know enough about Miss Quinn to know she’s what I’m looking for. I knew that from her letters. All I needed to learn was what her demeanor and moods were like…whether or not they matched up with her descriptions of her personality.” He smiled at Mollie. “And they exceed her descriptions. I’m very pleased with this match, and I don’t want to waste any more time, when I already know she’s the one.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Porter looked back and forth between the two. “I don’t know…”

  “Please, Mrs. Porter, I feel the same way,” added Mollie. “Why let poor Mr. Jamison incur additional expense of putting me up in a hotel for weeks on end, when we already know all that we need to know about each other?”

  “I understand your eagerness, really I do. I was so eager marry my husband. But we had to wait at least a month, because we were married in a Catholic church. Surely you know about the tradition of announcing the banns—that the priest always announces the impending marriage at Mass on the three Sundays prior to the wedding. You’re both Catholic, getting married in a Catholic church, and the banns will have to be announced. That’s why I’ve scheduled your wedding for four weeks from today.”

  Mollie was crestfallen. Four weeks? That might give her extra time to look for the Demings, but what would she say when she found them? Her only chance to get Nell back was to convince them that not only should Nell never have been taken from her in the first place, but also that Mollie also was capable of raising her, and giving her everything she needed. She couldn’t do that until she was Noah’s wife.

  “Fortunately, that won’t be a problem.” Noah leaned forward. “You see, I spoke with the priest this morning. I explained the situation, and requested that because of the unusual circumstances, he dispense with the banns, in this case.”

  “Surely Father O’Brien didn’t agree—”

  “On the contrary. You see, when we changed the plans to have Miss Quinn come out now, rather than in spring, none of us thought about the fact that Ash Wednesday is a week from this Wednesday.”

  Mollie gasped, in union with Mrs. Porter.

  “No!” Mrs. Porter whispered, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”

  Mollie tensed as the weight of Mr. Jamison’s words impacted her. “The priest can’t marry us during Lent,” she whispered, “not from Ash Wednesday until Low Sunday.” Two months hence! The meal she’d just finished lay like a lead weight in her belly.

  Mr. Jamison nodded. “But don’t worry. Although he said they rarely suspend the banns, but in this case, they could, because of the unusual circumstances. Lent begins in little more than a week, and with the Lenten preparations, we’ll be very busy in that week leading up to Ash Wednesday. Therefore, he agreed to let us marry this week.”

  “This week!” Mollie felt the tension leave her body in a whoosh. He truly had thought of everything.

  “He wants to speak to you himself, Miss Quinn, to make sure you’re willing, before he agrees officially—”

  “Oh, I am!” Mollie interrupted, happily. She could scarcely believe her luck. What a brilliant, thoughtful man Noah Jamison was!

  “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Father said he could fit us in either Tuesday or Wednesday. We can take you to speak with him tomorrow, and if he agrees, we could marry the next day.”

  “Well, I—” Mrs. Porter was flustered “—I suppose that’s fine, if it’s alright with Miss Quinn. Are you sure you want to rush things like this, dear?”

  Mollie nodded. “As Mr. Jamison said, what else can we do? If we don’t wed this week, we’ll have to wait until Lent is over. More than that, I don’t want to wait. I don’t feel rushed at all. I want to start my new life.”

  “Then I suppose it’s settled. Let’s meet in the lobby tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, and Mr. Jamison will take us to the church, to work things out with Father.”

  They ordered dessert and chatted about less serious things, but Mollie couldn’t keep track of the conversation. She was giddy with excitement. Things were working out exactly as she wanted. They would marry Tuesday, and if all went well, her little Nell might be back in her arms by week’s end!

  Chapter 11

  Tuesday, February 3, 1891

  Kneeling at the communion rail, Mollie’s thoughts whirled. She could feel the heat of Noah’s arm against hers as they knelt side by side. She felt a bit constricted inside the corset that Mrs. Porter had tightly laced for her, so that the fine dress Noah had bought for the wedding would fit its best. As soon as Mrs. Porter realized Mollie had no suitable attire for the wedding, she’d arranged things with Noah so that she and Mollie could go choose an appropriate dress.

  Despite Mrs. Porter’s strong recommendation to get something fancier, Mollie had insisted on a more practical—a green and burgundy plaid skirt with a burgundy bodice and a dark green velvet jacket. The jacket made the outfit fine enough for church, but without the jacket the outfit could work for a simple trip into town. I wish she hadn’t laced me so tight! She couldn’t take a reasonable breath. It was wort
h it, though. She knew she looked fetching—Noah’s eyes had widened as she had come down the aisle and joined him at the communion rail.

  When Madeline Porter had suggested that Noah ask his mother to join her and Mollie when they shopped for a wedding outfit, Mollie had been surprised that he suggested that Mollie choose the dress on her own. She was supposed to meet Mrs. Jamison just before the nuptial Mass, but Noah said she was occupied with preparing the reception refreshments. She arrived only moments before the ceremony. Mollie felt odd about taking vows without having spoken with her husband’s mother yet. Was Noah hiding something?

  The priest stood before them, decked out in his long black cassock, covered by the white alb and the embroidered chasuble, with matching brocade stole around his neck. He leaned forward, reading Latin words from the Missale Romanum.

  The Latin words flowed over Mollie, whose thoughts were occupied with Noah’s presence beside her…feeling the warmth of his arm against hers…stealing sideways glances at him and admiring his profile. How had such a handsome man escaped marriage for so long? She had seen the way the girls had looked at him on Sunday when they had met at church—the longing glances from several girls of marriageable age, which told her that Noah Jamison had at least a few attractive options for betrothal right in Helena. Why did he want her, instead?

  He’d said that none of the local girls interested him—that they were all too young and silly. One thing Mollie wasn’t, was silly. She’d been quite the serious sort for most of her life. She had to—she’d been expected to work her whole life. Even when she was in school, she was given loads of chores to do when she got home, and was expected to find ways to earn money as well, so she could hand it over to the family. She hadn’t had much of a childhood. Was it destiny, then, that she’d grown up needing to be so serious and responsible—so that she could now become the wife that Noah Jamison needed?