by Ruby Hill
Dear Madam,
I am writing in response to your ad. I am 28 years old, 6 feet tall. I own a small ranch in Finston, Texas, which is outside of Houston. I moved here after I lost my only living relatives in the war.
I was once married, but I lost my wife to pneumonia two years ago.
I am in need of a kind woman with a heart for God. I do not know what the future will bring, but I do know that you will find comfort in my modest home.
I spend my days tending to my small herd of cattle and other duties on my ranch. I need a wife to cook, clean, and bring laughter to this house. This is no place for a man to labor alone without a wife.
There’s plenty of fresh air, open land, and the freedom to grow whatever your heart desires. I have enclosed a picture for your consideration. Please send a picture. I would like to continue to correspond to see if we both feel marriage is a good fit for our futures.
Sincerely,
Ryan Wilder
“Well, what do you think?” asked Mrs. Allen.
“Well, he certainly provides a better offer than the man from Ohio with six children,” laughed Rebecca.
The reality of leaving New York was suddenly terrifying. The thought of moving out west had just been a possibility, but actually making a choice to move was an overwhelming decision. Her current living condition was uncomfortable, but it was familiar.
“I am going to think about it, Mrs. Allen. I shall write Mr. Wilder by tomorrow, letting him know about my decision.”
“Well, don’t make him wait too long. He sounds wonderful, and you don’t want another woman to snatch him up.” With that, Mrs. Allen headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
Andrew walked through the front door and found Rebecca sitting alone on the couch.
“Would you accompany me on a walk, Rebecca?” asked Andrew.
Rebecca blushed a deep red and said resentfully, “Thank you, Mr. Allen, but I will have to decline your offer. I am tired and want to stay indoors and rest.” Andrew’s continued unwelcome advances were quite unnerving.
“Rebecca, I am aware you continue to avoid me, but you could use the friendship of a man like me. We are much closer in age to each other than to my aunt or the Reverend Davis. I think we understand each other.”
“Mr. Allen…”
“Call me Andrew.”
“Mr. Allen,” Rebecca said stubbornly, “Mrs. Allen has been as a mother to me, and the Reverend Davis has done more for me than even my own family. At this time, I will trust their guidance and be content with my current situation. Also, I would prefer if you continued to call me Mrs. Hayward.”
“I am sorry to offend you, but I can see that you are not happy. Is it because my aunt and the reverend are forcing you to marry against your will? It’s my understanding that you married your first husband against your will.”
“I don’t think that is any of your business!” Rebecca stammered.
Andrew sat down next to Rebecca. “Now that I have a steady job, I have been thinking about my future.”
Rebecca didn’t like where the conversation was headed. She politely tried to excuse herself.
“Mrs. Hayward, please hear me out.”
Rebecca sat back down in a chair across from Andrew, and he continued, “I am going to search for a place of my own, and I would like for you to join me, as my wife.”
Rebecca wanted to be anywhere except sitting next to Andrew, “Mr. Allen,” Rebecca said sternly. “I am flattered by your proposal, but I cannot accept. I have promised myself to a rancher in Texas and will be leaving here in a matter of weeks.”
Ryan Wilder had not proposed, but Rebecca had already turned down Andrew’s advances on many occasions. Rebecca needed to provide Andrew with proof that they would never have a future together. Besides, Ryan had expressed his wish to correspond more and see a picture of Rebecca before asking her hand in marriage. Rebecca silently prayed that God would forgive her for lying, and hoped that Andrew wouldn’t catch on.
“I see,” said Andrew, standing up abruptly.
Dinner was awkward as Rebecca started at her plate, refusing to make eye contact with Mrs. Allen or Andrew. Mrs. Allen felt the tension between Rebecca and Andrew and attempted to break the silence with small talk, but soon gave up. As soon as the dishes were cleaned, Rebecca headed up to her room to respond to Mr. Wilder.
The only picture she had of herself was from her wedding day. Ripping the photo in half gave her small amount of satisfaction. Getting rid of the old to make room for the new, she thought to herself.
Responding to Mr. Wilder’s letter proved to be difficult. What did she want to tell him? What would he want to know?
The door opened, and Rebecca turned around expecting to see Mrs. Allen.
“Mr. Allen!” exclaimed Rebecca. “You must get out of my room this instant. What are you doing in here?”
“So, you think you’re too good for me? You’re a penniless widow with a family who doesn’t even want you,” said Andrew in a tone slightly above a whisper. He didn’t want to alert his aunt to his whereabouts.
“Mr. Allen, please, you must leave,” pleaded Rebecca. His anger was reminiscent of her late husband’s rage, and she wasn’t prepared to bear his wrath.
“Pack your things, you’re coming with me whether you want to or not. You have no family. You have no friends. I am the only one who can save you.”
Andrew stormed over to Rebecca’s closet and retrieved her worn, suitcase. Rebecca ran towards the door, but Andrew grabbed her, placed her on the bed and tied her wrists to the bedpost with a scarf. He placed a balled-up bonnet in her mouth to stifle her screams.
Rebecca began to loosen the scarf by maneuvering her hands free. Andrew was too busy rummaging through her late husband’s trunk to notice. Quietly, Rebecca reached for the box under her bed that contained the two gold coins and her wedding band. She slipped out of the room and ran downstairs as fast as she could.
She grabbed her coat and left without saying goodbye to Mrs. Allen. All she knew was that she needed to get away from Andrew as fast as she could.
With only the clothes on her back and her only possessions of value, Rebecca ran without a destination in mind. The wind was cool on her tear-stained face, and passersby gawked at her disheveled appearance. Luckily, it was dark outside so people couldn’t see just how terrible she looked. After walking several miles, continually looking back to see if she was being followed, Rebecca came to a hotel.
She paid for her room with the twenty-dollar gold piece and pocketed the change. She entered her room, sat on the bed, and let the tears flow. Rebecca couldn’t return to Mrs. Allen’s house, and her father had already let her know that he couldn’t help her. She didn’t know what her next move would be, but she knew that her money would run out in a matter of days. Rebecca cleaned up, undressed, and fell asleep, hoping that God would reveal what she should do next.
The morning arrived, but Rebecca wasn’t ready to end her slumber. She knew that as soon as she got out of bed, she would have to decide where to go. New York had already proven to be a tough town for a young, single woman. After weeks of searching for job, she still didn’t have one.
Finally, she got out of bed, washed her face and cleaned up as best she could. She put on the only dress she still owned, walked out of the hotel room, and closed the door behind her. All of the money that she had was going to be spent on getting to Texas. Her only hope was that Mr. Wilder would take her in as his wife. It was farfetched to believe that her plan would work, but she didn’t know what else to do. Rebecca knew his name and the town where he lived, but that was it.
Rebecca arranged for transportation to the train station, and upon arrival, paid her one-way fare to Houston, Texas. There was no turning back.
5
The clickety-clack of the train heading down the tracks was melodic and served as a source of comfort to Rebecca. For the first time in her life, she was doing something for herself.
She wrote t
wo letters: one to her sisters and one to Mrs. Allen, to let them know where she had gone. At one of the scheduled train stops, she mailed the letters, which was her final farewell to her old life. She spent time reading the Bible, because it was available on the train, and she also spent time in prayer. Mostly, she kept to herself, except for the small talk she made with other women who shared her cabin. The week-long journey had given her the time to contemplate everything she had experienced.
Rebecca was under no illusions about the hardships she would have to face. However, she was not afraid of hardship. A kind and considerate companion could make any difficulty bearable.
On the final day of her journey, particles of dust danced in the light filtering through the train car windows. Rebecca watched them as her heartrate continued to accelerate the closer she got to Houston.
A passage she had read in the Bible continued to play in her mind.
Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
It was as if God was speaking directly to her. The words filtered into Rebecca’s consciousness as if someone had reminded her that life could be beautiful if you put your trust in God. Rebecca’s heart rate slowed down to a calm and steady rhythm. She felt peaceful. A feeling she had not experienced since her mother’s death when she was sixteen years old.
The trees were moving at a slower pace outside of the window, which meant the train was slowing down. She reached into her coat pocket to feel for her wedding ring and the last of her money. After purchasing the train ticket and minimal food on the journey, Rebecca was down to eighteen dollars. The warmth of her valued items gave her comfort for they would help her reach Mr. Wilder, whom would hopefully be her husband within a matter of days.
The train jerked as it came to a complete stop. Rebecca took her time getting off the train because her fear of rejection was nearly paralyzing. Mr. Wilder had no idea that Rebecca was about to show up at his door. What would she do if he turned her away? What if Mr. Wilder was as cruel as her first husband? What if he had sent an old picture, and he was older than she thought? The questions running through her mind didn’t stop.
She said a quick prayer, thanking God for the opportunity and asking Him for strength to move forward. With that, she made her way off the train and onto the platform.
The hustle and bustle of folks greeting one another, while other folks were trying to board the train was overwhelming. Rebecca noticed the disparity between the number of men and women. The men outnumbered the women significantly, and she noticed the side glances from the men surrounding her. Rebecca hoped she hadn’t put herself in a dangerous situation.
An older man in his sixties, with kind eyes and a stomach that hung over his belt, stopped Rebecca.
“Miss, you look lost. Can I help you find someone or something?”
Grateful for the help, Rebecca told the old man that she needed to get to Finston and asked for help in securing transportation.
Her request was met with a hearty laugh, “Finston? Darling, that’s a full day’s journey. You’ll never make it there today.”
Disheartened, Rebecca thanked the man for his time and sat down on the nearest bench. Not wanting to leave this young, obviously lost girl alone. The old man sat down next to her to offer help.
“My name is Mr. Adams.”
“Rebecca Hayward.”
“Well, Miss Hayward, do you have anybody meeting you here to fetch you?”
“No. I just need to make it to Finston.”
“There’s a hotel nearby that’s run by a good friend of mine. Why don’t I take you there so you can rest for the night? I will help arrange transportation for you to Finston in the morning.”
Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Mr. Adams.”
With only eighteen dollars and a wedding band, Rebecca felt like she would have just enough money to make it to Finston. Well, hopefully she would have enough money.
Mr. Adams made sure nobody overcharged Rebecca. And Rebecca felt as if Mr. Adams was an angel securing her safety. The hotel cost three dollars, and the stagecoach ride to Finston was going to cost ten dollars. Rebecca had enough money left to eat a warm meal at the restaurant and to buy some toiletries at the nearby general store to freshen up before meeting Mr. Wilder. Rebecca used the soap she bought to wash her body, as well as her dress and undergarments, hoping that they would be dry by morning.
* * *
Rebecca woke long before the sun came up. Giddy with excitement, she got dressed in her clothes that were slightly damp. Oh well, she thought, they will have the whole day to dry out.
Just as Mr. Adams promised, a stage coach was waiting to take her to Finston. Relieved to find out she was the only passenger, Rebecca made herself comfortable. In her head, Rebecca practiced hundreds of different ways to introduce herself to Mr. Wilder.
Rebecca was used to being surrounded by people because of her upbringing in New York City. After getting outside of Houston, Rebecca felt the empty vastness surrounding her. She noted the different plants passing her by and couldn’t wait to taste the different fruits and vegetables grown in Texas. The humidity was curling her brown hair, and she was thankful for the breeze coming through the open windows. The fresh air made her feel so alive. Even though it was March, the weather was very comfortable.
The day was coming to an end, and Rebecca felt the temperature drop. She was glad she had her coat for warmth. The stagecoach stopped, and the driver led the horses to water to rest and get a drink.
“We’re just outside of Finston, ma’am. We should be there in about an hour. You’ll have to let me know where to drop you off when we arrive.”
“I actually don’t know,” said Rebecca. “I am looking for…” she paused as she didn’t want to share the true reason for coming to Finston. “…my brother. He moved out here a few years ago, but I am not exactly sure where he lives.”
“Well, ma’am, I guess I could bring you to town and you could ask around. I’m sure there aren’t more than 60 people in town, so I am sure he will be easy to find.”
His answer put her mind at ease. Rebecca hadn’t put much thought into finding Mr. Wilder when she arrived.
After the horse was rested and fed, the stagecoach driver said, “Well, we better get a move on. There’ve been rumors of bandits in these parts. Besides, we only have a couple hours of sunlight left. We’ll have to set up camp tonight if it gets dark.”
Even thinking about spending the night outdoors terrified Rebecca—especially since she was with a man who she had just met that morning.
Rebecca knew they had to be close, as it had been nearly an hour after their stop. She saw some houses in the distance, and just as they rounded a corner, the wagon lurched suddenly, as a wheel sank into a pot hole on the dirt track. Rebecca felt her stomach heave as she fought to control the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. The lurching motion of the wagon on the dirt track combined with her nerves made her feel sick.
The driver got off to examine the situation. Not wanting to waste any time and risk having to sleep outdoors, Rebecca stumbled down from the wagon and rolled up her sleeves to help the driver.
“Now ma’am, I can’t let you help me push,” said the driver. “Well, that just wouldn’t be right.”
“Nonsense,” said Rebecca. “If we sit around arguing about why I can’t help, it’s just going to take longer to get to Finston.”
The driver shrugged; Rebecca’s argument made sense. Together they heaved and pushed the wagon out of the pothole. The sun had set by the time the wagon was ready to go, and even though they were only a few miles away, the driver said it would be best to set up camp.
Rebecca was disheartened and began to protest when the driver’s face went pale with terror.
“Hide!” said the driver in a hoarse whisper. With that, the driver grabbed Rebecca’s hand and dragged her behind a tree. Rebecca was terrified, t
rying to see through the darkness. She could hear snorting of horses and pungent odors of sweat as three men on horseback approached. They were looking for her and the driver.
She gasped as she was suddenly hauled to her feet. Two hands turned her around as she stared into the eyes of a stranger, only visible by the moonlight. He had a Stetson hat on his head and a gun in his hand. What was he going to do? The stagecoach driver snuck up behind the man holding onto Rebecca and hit him in the head with the butt of his rifle.
“Run, girl,” screamed the driver.
As she rushed towards the darkness of the trees, she heard gunshots behind her, piercing the silence of the night. She wasn’t sure if the driver or the bandits were on the receiving end of the shot. Another gunshot motivated her feet to pick up speed. She stumbled and fell as something caught on her dress in the darkness. On her knees, she took advantage of her surroundings, to crawl behind the nearest tree and sat there with her heart thumping wildly. She could hear the men talking loudly and hoped that they had spared the driver’s life. She remained seated, eyes closed, her fingers gripping her mother’s cross around her neck.
When it grew quiet, she carefully shifted her position to look out past the trees. A hand gripped her arm. She would have screamed had a hand not been clamped across her mouth. Moonlight moved across the stranger’s face when she recognized the eyes. Ryan Wilder, the man from the photograph. The man she hoped to marry. Was he part of this group of bandits? Had she come all of this way for a criminal? He removed the hand he used to grip her arm and placed it on his holster. Rebecca froze as he drew his handgun from the holster. Was this how death would come, at the hands of a stranger in a dark land far from her home? She closed her eyes and waited for the gun shot.
The next instant, she felt something cold and metal in her fingers. Looking down, she realized Ryan had slipped the gun into her hand.
“Wait here. You’ll be safer if you stay hidden,” whispered Ryan. “If anyone comes near, take aim and shoot. Do you understand?”
Rebecca nodded.