by Lily Wilspur
LILY WILSPUR
Mail Order Bride
Ellen’s Conflict
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Copyright
Chapter 1
“Are you Ellen Mortimer?” The man stood over her in the train station, and the two of them surveyed each other for the first time.
He looked pretty good to her in his tweed suit and maroon felt hat. His goatee and moustache stood out from his clean-shaven cheeks with the marks of a fresh trim around his lips. His middle was a little wider than she imagined it would be, but his shoulders and legs stood out strong and sturdy under his suit.
“You must be Elliot Wilkins.” She held out her hand.
He scanned her in return as they shook hands. “Are you ready to go?”
Ellen stared at him. “Go? Go where?”
“To the church, of course,” Elliot replied. “It’s right around the corner, you know.”
“Oh!” Ellen exclaimed. “I didn’t know that. Do you want to go to the church now? I mean, right now?”
“Why not?” Elliot asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting married? Isn’t that what you’re doing here?”
“Well, yes,” Ellen stammered. “I just didn’t realize you wanted to get married right away. I mean, I just got off the train.”
“I thought you wanted to get married right away,” Elliot returned. “You don’t want to stay here, do you?”
“No, but….” Ellen floundered for something to say next.
“If you don’t want to stay here,” Elliot told her. “We have to get married. I can’t take you home unless we’re married, can I?”
“I guess not,” Ellen replied.
“Well, then, come on.” Elliot waved toward the door of the train station.
Ellen took a hesitating step toward the door. This was all so sudden. She thought she’d have at least one day to think about things before she got married. She wasn’t expecting to go straight from the passenger car of the train to the altar of the church.
Elliot took her by the arm. “Don’t worry about your luggage. I’ll get the porter to carry your trunk over to the church.”
“I won’t be able to get married until he does,” Ellen told him. “My wedding dress is in the trunk.”
“Don’t worry,” Elliot repeated. “We won’t get married until you’re in your dress. There’s a little room off the side of the church where the minister changes into his vestments. You can change in there.”
Ellen let her hesitation fall aside. She held onto Elliot’s arm and let him conduct her out of the train station. On the sidewalk, another doubt stopped her. “What will we do with my trunk after the service?”
“I have my wagon parked over by the church,” Elliot assured her. “The porter can load your luggage into the wagon when we’re done, and I’ll drive you home. Will that be all right with you?”
Ellen smiled at him, and her last doubt took flight. How nice it was to know the man she was marrying cared about her welfare and saw to her needs without being asked. She felt herself falling under his field of influence. She could let him take charge of her life and relax under his authority. How peaceful and pleasant it would be to have a husband!
At the door of the train station, Elliot exchanged a few words with the porter before he steered Ellen across the street and around the corner to the church. By the time they reached the church door, she saw the porter leaving the train station with her trunk perched on his shoulder. He headed after them.
“Here we are,” Elliot chirped.
He pushed the door open for her and she stepped inside.
The signature hush of church blanketed them, blocking out the sounds from outside. “Follow me,” Elliot told her. Ellen followed him up the side aisle of the church, and he showed her into a room just off the front aisle near the minister’s podium. “You can wait in here. The porter will be here in a minute with your trunk. I’ll get the minister, and then I’ll wait for you here.”
Ellen glanced around the tiny room. The minister’s vestments hung on hooks from the walls. A single tiny window at the top of one wall let in the only light, and a mirror occupied the opposite wall. The room wasn’t much more than a large closet.
“I’ll be waiting for you in front of the altar,” Elliot told her. “Come out whenever you’re ready.”
Ellen smiled at him. “Okay.”
Elliot touched the brim of his hat to her and closed the door behind her.
As she waited for her trunk, Ellen looked around the room again and stopped in front of the mirror. She studied the image Elliot saw when he examined her in the train station. Bony and angular, Ellen disliked the stubborn expression on her own face. Her mousy brown hair stretched back from her cheekbones to a tight knot on the back of her head. Her brown eyes regarded the world with a mixture of amusement and determination.
Her usual frustration at dealing with the world softened at the relief she felt at finally getting married. She had a terrible time finding marriageable men back East. She resorted to the mail-order bride service when her latest prospect bowed out of marrying her after weeks of excited discussion and planning. She wouldn’t go through that again.
Still, Elliot’s resolution to thrust her so suddenly into their marriage startled and disoriented her. Couldn’t she just think about it a little longer?
Well, she could think about it only as long as it took that porter to bring her trunk. And here he was, knocking on the door and setting the trunk on the table. She couldn’t think about it anymore. It was now or never. If she hesitated a moment longer, Elliot would bow out, too, and she couldn’t risk that.
After the porter left, she opened her trunk and changed her clothes. Her dress wasn’t the most outstanding one available, but it was the best she could afford. She couldn’t tighten her corsets as tightly as she’d like to by herself. But there was no one to tighten them for her, so they would have to do. Besides, Elliot didn’t look like he had anything to criticize, with his growing waist straining the buttons on his vest.
At last, Ellen stood in front of the mirror, as ready as she would ever be for her own wedding. She turned the door knob and went out into the church.
Elliot waited in his tweed suit in front of the altar, just as he said he would. He smiled at Ellen when she came out, and the minister smiled, too, behind his podium. Ellen smiled at them both.
Elliot held out his hand to her, and Ellen took it. Elliot guided her to the place next to him, and the minister opened his book.
Chapter 2
When the service ended, Elliot led Ellen by the hand up the aisle, where the minister parted from them. Ellen and Elliot exchanged a conspiratorial smile. Elliot patted her hand. “Why don’t you go change out of your dress while I bring the wagon over. The porter’s still outside. He can load up your luggage and we’ll get on our way.”
Ellen glanced around the empty church. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Elliot cocked his head on one side. “Was there anything you wanted to do in town? Anything you need? We probably won’t come back into town for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks!” Ellen gasped.
“I told you in my letters that I lived out of town,” Elliot remarked.
“I didn’t realize you came to town so rarely,” Ellen replied.
“I can’t take the time off from work
to come into town,” Elliot told her. “Every time I come into town, I have to take the whole day off work. I can’t afford that. I’m only here now to pick you up. Sometimes I don’t come to town for a few months at a time.”
“Months!” Ellen cried.
Elliot compressed his lips. “You’ll have to get used to that. You’ll have to learn how to make due between trips to town. You just have to plan ahead.”
Ellen squared her shoulders. She could handle anything this Western Frontier threw at her. “I’ll manage. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s just that I won’t know what I need until I get to the house.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Elliot told her. “I’ve been living out there all this time without coming into town every time I want something.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ellen replied. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Elliot exclaimed. “Then let’s get going.”
Ellen retreated to her closet, where she changed from her wedding dress into her grey wool travelling dress. She packed up her wedding dress in the trunk.
She gave herself one more look in the mirror. So now she was married. Instead of little old Ellen Mortimer, she was now Mrs. Elliot Wilkins. Did she look different? Did she look more mature? Had she lost any of her youthful attraction?
It didn’t matter now. Now that she was married, she didn’t need youthful attraction anymore. Now she needed grit and adaptability. She needed to rise to any challenge Elliot or his life offered her. If she found herself out at his homestead with nothing but a thimble to her name, she had to make due with available resources.
She couldn’t expect Elliot to go out of his way to make her comfortable. Well, she would show him what she was made of. She wouldn’t complain, and she would never ask for special treatment.
Some mail-order brides married men living hundreds of miles from the nearest town, and they didn’t go to town more than once or twice a year. Even when they did, they didn’t have money to spend on frivolities. They had to make everything they wanted by hand. If they could do it, she could do it, too.
The moment she stepped out of the closet, she ran into the porter waiting in the aisle. The minute she appeared, he brushed past her into the room, hoisted her trunk onto his shoulder, and carted it out of the church. Ellen cast one last look around the church. It was the first and only time she ever really had a good look at it. And now she was leaving it. She might never enter it again.
Elliot waited for her on the steps of the church. A wagon stood in the street at the foot of the steps. Ellen recognized it as Elliot’s because her trunk rested in the wagon box. But she screamed in horror when she saw a massive wolf standing astride her trunk.
Ellen always thought of wolves as big dogs. She’s never seen a wolf before, but this one was bigger than she ever imagined. Its silver and coal grey fur bushed out around its huge neck and shoulders like a lion’s mane. To her amazement, it didn’t growl or attack, but just stood there, staring at Ellen with penetrating ice-blue eyes.
Elliot started in surprise, but when he realized what made her scream, he burst out laughing. “Don’t mind him. He won’t hurt you.”
Ellen stared back and forth between Elliot and the enormous wolf. “You mean—you know him?”
“Of course, I know him,” Elliot retorted. “He’s my dog, Laird.”
“Your dog!” Ellen gasped. “He’s a wolf!”
“He’s a hybrid,” Elliot told her. “He’s half wolf, half St. Bernard. That’s why he’s so blamed big. But he’s a pussy cat. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“He’s a monster,” Ellen countered. “I don’t want to ride in the wagon with that…that thing in there.”
Elliot stiffened. “You don’t have to ride in the wagon with him. You can stay here if you like. But I’m riding home in the wagon with him. He’s the best dog in the world and he won’t hurt you. I’ve had him since he was a newborn puppy, and I’ve never met a better dog in my life. Watch.”
Elliot climbed up into the driver’s seat. He picked the reins off the brake handle and collected them in his hands. Then he turned around and pointed to the floor of the wagon box. He locked eyed with the wolf and snapped, “Lie down, Laird.”
The wolf lowered his head and hopped down from Ellen’s trunk. He slunk to the opposite corner of the wagon box and flopped down on the bare boards. He crossed his front paws in front of him and blinked around at the world with bored superiority. He really did look like an aristocrat.
Elliot turned back to Ellen. “You see? Come on. I don’t want to wait around here all day.”
Ellen glanced back at the wolf. He didn’t seem even the slightest bit interested in her. She took a tentative step forward, and he didn’t move. He gave her the briefest glance when she climbed up into the seat and settled herself next to Elliot.
She couldn’t stop herself from checking over her shoulder ever few minutes to make sure he was still lying down at the other end of the wagon box. He never moved.
Elliot watched her until she turned around again. “Are you satisfied now? He won’t hurt you. He looks like a wolf, but he’s a dog. He’s no more dangerous than a Yorkshire Terrier.”
Ellen folded her hands in her lap. “I think he might be a little bit more dangerous than that if he wanted to be.”
Elliot called, “Giddup,” to the horses and slapped the reins on their backs. The wagon started forward and they drove out of town. “You’re right. He’s a lot better at protecting me and my stock than a Yorkshire Terrier would be. Two years ago, a bear came after me when I was camped down on the river. Laird went straight for him.”
“Did he fight a full grown bear?” Ellen asked. “He sure is big, but I didn’t think he was that big.”
“He didn’t fight it,” Elliot told her. “He tried to. The bear slapped him away with its paw and sent him flying. Gashed open his side something awful. Laird jumped straight up and went after him again. All his growling and snarling drove the bear away, so they didn’t finish the fight. But he saved my bacon, and he’s done it often enough that I’ve learned to value him. He’s a rare dog, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”
Chapter 3
Ellen kept looking back over her shoulder at Laird on the way to the homestead. She just couldn’t get comfortable, knowing that animal was behind her. A little way out of town, Laird dropped his head down onto his paws and closed his eyes. Then Ellen relaxed a little bit and looked around her at the scenery.
“How far out of town is the homestead?” she asked.
“Fifteen miles,” Elliot told her. “It will take us the better part of the day to get there with a little bit of daylight to spare for evening chores and getting supper ready. That’s why I wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible.”
“I understand,” Ellen replied. “Tell me more about your operation out there. You didn’t mention very much about it in your letters.”
“It’s not much of an operation at this point,” Elliot admitted. “As I told you, I have the homestead as well as another claim down the valley. Most of the work right now involves breaking the land, fencing it for livestock, and scratching out a living as best I can.”
“And you’ve been doing it all alone, all these years?” Ellen asked. “It must be hard.”
“I’ve been working with Clive Henry, my neighbor,” Elliot told her. “He has the homestead next to mine, between me and the other claim. He helps me out in exchange for me working with him on his place.”
“That sounds like a good arrangement,” Ellen remarked. “It must be very helpful to have another person around to help with the heavier tasks.”
“It is helpful for heavier tasks,” Elliot agreed. “But it isn’t the same as having a wife at home when you come home in the evenings. I’ll be much happier to have you around than I ever was to have Clive.”
Elliot reached over and patted her hand in her lap. They smiled at each other until Ellen looked away.
“Do
es Clive have a wife?” Ellen asked.
“No,” Elliot replied. “He’s been widowed for ten years.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ellen returned. “What does he think about you getting a wife?”
“He congratulated me,” Elliot told her. “He said it would be nice having a woman around for a change. He didn’t say anything about him getting a wife. We never talk about that. I guess he’s decided to live alone for the rest of his life.”
“That’s too bad,” Ellen replied.
“I think it’s a shame,” Elliot continued. “Because he’s the nicest fella in the world. He’d make a good husband to some woman.”
“Maybe he’ll change his mind someday,” Ellen remarked.
“Maybe,” Elliot replied. “But I don’t think so. I think he’ll be happier with something more like a real community moving into the area. If other men around the place get wives, and they have children, and people start socializing more, then it will seem more like a living place. Right now, it gets blamed lonely with just me and Clive around.”
“You’re right,” Ellen agreed. “It does sound nice.”
“What about you?” Elliot asked. “You won’t get too lonely being the only woman around, will you? I think the closest woman is Henrietta Henley, about thirty miles up the valley—apart from the women in town, that is. You might wish for a friend or some kind of companionship of your own, especially if we start having children.”
Ellen stole a sidelong glance at Elliot. Have children—with him? She never thought about that before. It might be nice to have another woman around for that, especially an older woman who’d gone through it before. Under the circumstances, she’d be alone. If she was lucky, she’d have Elliot around to help her, but it wasn’t the same as having someone who’d had children of her own.
“Hmm, I suppose so,” Ellen considered. “But, as you say, other women may move into the area. You never know what could happen. Anyway, I’ll manage whatever happens. I knew what I was getting myself into when I answered your letters. We’re married now, and this is our life. I’ll make it work.”