Finding Hope (Mail Order Bride: Brides And Promises Book 1)

by Ruby Hill

  More yelling. More gunshots. The horses started running in the opposite direction, so Rebecca stood up.

  “She’s here,” yelled a strange voice.

  That was the last thing she heard. Darkness surrounded her as she fell to the ground.

  6

  “Now Ryan, calm down. This ain’t your fault,” said George as he pushed his chair back from the kitchen table and lit up his pipe.

  Ryan paced up and down, hands on his hips, “That doctor is sure taking his sweet time.”

  “Her head was hurt pretty bad. We’re lucky she’s still with us,” said George in the most comforting tone he could muster. “Besides, we don’t even know who she is.”

  “Does it matter if we know who she is?” asked Ryan. “I am just glad she is going to be okay. That stagecoach driver sure is lucky, too.”

  “Who did the driver say she was here to see? Her brother?”

  Ryan answered, “That’s what the driver said. He didn’t get the brother’s name though.”

  They heard the doctor and Mrs. Carlson talking in low voices as they came down the stairs. The doctor looked at them cheerfully.

  “Well, she’s gonna be fine. She doesn’t remember who she is at the moment, but her memories should come back real soon.”

  Mrs. Carlson said, “Well, she can stay here until we figure out where she was going. I am sure her kin will be coming to look for her soon.”

  “Supposedly, her brother lives in town,” said Ryan, hoping to help. “George, what do you say we go to town and ask around. See if anyone was waiting on his sister.”

  “That’s a fine idea, Mr. Wilder,” said Mrs. Carlson. “George, go and saddle up the horses.”

  * * *

  Rebecca slowly drifted awake and brought her hands to the back of her head where she felt a large bump. She opened her eyes and gazed dimly at the figure seated in her room, without recognition. Rebecca grimaced from the pain.

  “Lie still, child. You hurt your head. It’s best you don’t move too quickly,” said the kind woman sitting next to her. “Now, I brought you up some food and water.”

  Rebecca slowly sat up and raised the water glass to her lips. The woman handed Rebecca a second drink, a dark liquid in a small cup. The searing heat from the drink ran down Rebecca’s throat into her chest. It made her cough.

  “It’s all right dear, it’s just a little whisky. It’ll take some edge off of the pain from your head,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m Mrs. Carlson. The doctor’s been to see you, and he says you’ll be just fine, but he did say that you when you woke briefly, you didn’t have any memories. Do you know who you are? Or where you are?”

  “Of course I know who I am,” said Rebecca. She paused and realized she didn’t know who she was or what she was doing in this woman’s house. “Well, I guess I don’t remember.” Rebecca felt defeated.

  “Maybe you remember a brother? The man you were with said you were coming to Finston to look for a brother.”

  Rebecca thought. The name Finston sounded vaguely familiar, but she had no memories of a brother.

  Mrs. Carlson took Rebecca’s silence as her answer.

  “We’ll talk all about that later, dear. Just focus on getting better.”

  * * *

  George returned home without Ryan.

  “Nobody knew about anybody’s sister coming to town. Although now that all the men know she’s here, they are lining up to meet her.”

  “George, you keep those men away from our house. That poor girl has been through enough, and she must be terrified. I can’t imagine having no memories. It must be awful,” said Mrs. Carlson sympathetically.

  Over the next few days, the Carlson family helped Rebecca heal. A few memories started to come back, such as remembering the train ride. But, she couldn’t remember where her journey began or ended. She couldn’t remember her family or where she had come from. The stagecoach driver had told the Carlsons her name, so she knew her name was Rebecca.

  Ryan had stayed away from the Carlsons’ home while Rebecca was there. Even though he was used to eating dinner at the Carlson home every night, Ryan ate simple meals at home. He figured they had enough mouths to feed with the extra houseguest.

  Mrs. Carlson loved having Rebecca around the house to help with cooking and cleaning. Rebecca knew her way around the kitchen and was always willing to pitch in where needed. The twins, Lizzie and Mary, also enjoyed Rebecca’s company. She would sing songs with them, braid their hair, and help them with their chores.

  One Sunday, almost two weeks after Rebecca’s arrival, the Carlsons were getting ready for church. It was a bright sunny day when Mr. Carlson harnessed the horses to the cart and lifted the twins up to their seats, all decked out in their Sunday best. They had scrubbed their faces pink and tied red ribbons in their wheat-colored hair, much to the disapproval of their mother. She believed young girls should be as simple as possible but had decided to relax her rules somewhat for Sundays. Rebecca wore a dress that Mrs. Carlson had sewn for her. Even though it was made from Mrs. Carlson’s scrap material, Rebecca believed it to be a very fine dress. Mr. Carlson helped Rebecca up into the cart too. Then he climbed up on to the front seat, next to Mrs. Carlson and flicked the reins to get the horses moving.

  Everyone from the church came up to greet the Carlsons and inquire about their mysterious guest. The Carlsons didn’t have much information on Rebecca, but hoped that someone at church would recognize her. Hopefully, her brother would claim her and her memories would come back.

  Rebecca’s mind was whirling from introductions. There were so many faces and names to remember, and being that she couldn’t remember her own life events, she decided to forgive herself for forgetting every single name she learned.

  Just as they were about to get seated, George wanted to make one more introduction. Rebecca turned around to shake yet another hand and looked up into the a beautiful, steel-colored pair of eyes.

  “Ryan Wilder,” said Rebecca.

  “Well, that’s what I was just about to tell you,” laughed Ryan. “How did you know my name?”

  Rebecca thought and finally answered, “I don’t know. Have we met before?”

  “Well of course you’ve met,” interrupted George. “Why, Ryan here is the man who saved you that night. You’ve probably heard us talking about how much we miss Mr. Wilder since he hasn’t been around in days,” George laughed, and playfully hit Ryan on the shoulder. “You know Rebecca, you sure were lucky that Mr. Wilder was heading home from our house after dinner that night. After he found you, he had to travel five miles back to our house. We didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

  “Well, anybody would have done it,” said Ryan, slightly embarrassed by George’s words. He extended his hand to Rebecca, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You know my name, but I am not sure I know yours.”

  “I can’t remember my surname, but I know my first name is Rebecca. So, Mr. Wilder, please, just call me Rebecca.”

  “Well, I’ll call you Rebecca if you call me Ryan.”

  “Well, I have to start by thanking you, Ryan. I don’t know what would’ve happened if—”

  Ryan stopped her, “Don’t think about it. You’re alive and well, and even your driver made it back to Houston all in one piece. Everything turned out okay. We’ve got men searching for those bandits who attacked you. I’m sure we’ll find them.” Ryan continued, “Now if we can only find your family.”

  Rebecca smiled and hoped that her family wasn’t worried, although she had no idea who her family was. She wished she could remember. She headed into church with the Ryan and the Carlson family.

  * * *

  Ryan resumed his place at the Carlson dinner table over the next few weeks. Rebecca looked forward to his visits each night.

  Mrs. Carlson treated Rebecca like a daughter, and Rebecca reciprocated the kindness by helping out around the ranch any way she could. Rebecca enjoyed the days spent with Mrs. Carlson. She made everything seem
so easy, and it was pure magic to see how she turned raw ingredients into good, wholesome food. Rebecca learned the inner workings of a ranch and how to manage the daily household chores. Each night, she would sit by the fireplace with the Carlsons and listen to George read the family Bible by candlelight. She was even learning how to cook the local food.

  One evening Rebecca was sitting with Mrs. Carlson peeling potatoes. Rebecca wanted to ask about Ryan and why he wasn’t married, but she was worried about being too forward. After all, Rebecca didn’t even know if she was married.

  “Now tell me, have you ever eaten fried okra before?” said Mrs. Carlson, interrupting Rebecca’s thoughts.

  Rebecca laughed, “I don’t know, but I would love to try it.”

  “Well, look here, this here is the last batch of okra we have this year, with the weather getting cooler. I have a feeling you’ll love it. To prepare it, we just need to chop off the ends like so…” said Mrs. Carlson, while demonstrating how to cut the vegetable.

  Rebecca gladly helped Mrs. Carlson chop the okra, wondering at the slimy gum that coated her knife. She thought that such a sticky vegetable would surely not taste very pleasant. Still, she watched fascinated as Mrs. Carlson dipped the chopped, green pods in a mixture of buttermilk and egg. She then coated the pieces in salted corn meal and fried them in a big pot of hot lard. As the scent of freshly fried, battered okra filled the kitchen, Rebecca’s stomach rumbled.

  George came in from the barn, scraping the mud off his boots outside. Ryan followed behind George and smiled at Rebecca.

  “Well, it looks like Mrs. Carlson is training you to be the perfect ranchers’ wife, eh?” George joked.

  Rebecca blushed and quickly looked in the opposite direction of Ryan. She wasn’t sure if George was insinuating anything, but Mrs. Carlson’s hearty laugh confirmed her suspicions.

  The twins, Mary and Lizzie, came in and hurried about setting the table. Mrs. Carlson placed a steaming pot of stewed beans on the table, together with the fried okra and bread. Lizzie was given the task of saying grace, and then the family ate hungrily.

  After the dishes had been cleared, George and Ryan retreated to the porch. Mrs. Carlson sat down with her knitting, and Rebecca joined her. The twins say by the fireplace with some embroidery work.

  Rebecca gathered her courage to ask about Ryan, “Mrs. Carlson, do you know why Ryan isn’t married?”

  Mrs. Carlson set her knitting on the table, “Why do you ask, Rebecca?” A huge smile had replaced Mrs. Carlson’s concentrated expression that she always wore when knitting.

  “Well, he’s so kind. He has a good piece of land and works hard. He’s handsome. I would think that any woman would be happy to have him.”

  “Well, dear,” Mrs. Carlson started, “Ryan was married once. She died soon after they were married from pneumonia. After two years, Mr. Carlson encouraged him to place an ad for a wife, but I don’t know if he ever did. I feel like enough time has passed for him to consider remarrying.”

  “I see,” said Rebecca. She thought about how devastating it must be to lose a wife.

  “Mr. Wilder would make a wonderful husband. We love him like one of the family. Maybe you two will fall in love,” said Mrs. Carlson, with hope in her voice.

  Rebecca paused, “He is a wonderful man. I just don’t know where I come from, so I don’t even know if I’m married.”

  Mrs. Carlson had never thought about the possibility of Rebecca being married. She knew Rebecca was looking for her brother, but she had never thought about a husband missing Rebecca.

  “You’re right dear; it’s best we find out who you are before I practice my matchmaking skills with the two of you.”

  Rebecca laughed. Mrs. Carlson smiled and went back to her knitting.

  Ryan and George came inside after enjoying a cigar and some whiskey.

  “I just wanted to say goodnight and thank you for a lovely dinner, ladies,” Ryan said as he waved and headed out the door.

  “We’ll be seeing you in the morning?” asked George.

  Ryan turned back around to answer George, “I’ll be here bright and early to help you with chopping the wood.”

  “I really appreciate the help, Ryan. Come over on your buggy tomorrow, and we’ll send you home with some wood, too.”

  “That’s mighty kind of you, George. Good night.”

  Ryan shut the door behind him.

  * * *

  The following morning, Rebecca was helping Mrs. Carlson with breakfast when George came in.

  “Well, this is not like Ryan. It’s just not like him to not show up,” said George, concerned.

  “Why don’t you ride on over and check on him, just to make sure he’s all right,” said Mrs. Carlson, joining in on George’s concern.

  “I think I’ll do that. Rebecca, will you ride over with me? If I need to stay, you can return with news for Mrs. Carlson.”

  Rebecca was excited by the thought of seeing where Ryan lived. She wiped her hands on a towel and followed George out to the stables.

  When they arrived at Ryan’s house, George knocked on the front door. When nobody answered, George asked Rebecca to wait outside by the door in case there was intruder. Within a matter of seconds, George was yelling for Rebecca to come inside to help him.

  In a panic, Rebecca rushed inside to find Ryan unconscious on the floor.

  “He’s burning up,” said George. “Get a wet cloth for his brow.”

  Rebecca rushed back with a wet cloth and placed it on Ryan’s forehead.

  “We need to get him into bed,” said Rebecca. “Can you help me?”

  George lifted Ryan into his bed. Ryan woke up and looked at Rebecca, smiled, and fell back asleep. Rebecca stayed with Ryan while George went to fetch the doctor.

  When George finally arrived with the doctor, Rebecca stepped out of the room to give them privacy. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came out. He said the Ryan would need around-the-clock care. The doctor provided instructions and promised to return the next day.

  “Mr. Carlson, I can stay with him.”

  “Now, Rebecca, I don’t think that would be right.”

  “What else can we do? The doctor said we shouldn’t make the journey back to your house, and you need to attend to the ranch. Ryan has three bedrooms in this house. I will stay in one of the unused rooms and attend to him while he gets better.”

  George finally conceded, realizing it was in the best interest of everyone involved. “Thank you for offering, Rebecca. You continue to bless us with your presence. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

  “You have all been so kind to me, Mr. Carlson. Your family took me in, clothed me, fed me and kept me safe while I healed. And besides, Ryan saved my life. Now, I can help save his.”

  George left, and Mrs. Carlson returned to Ryan’s home with Rebecca’s things. Mrs. Carlson helped Rebecca clean up a guest bedroom so she would have a place to sleep. She promised to stop by daily to check on both of them.

  The next few days, Rebecca worked around the clock to care for Ryan. She slept in the guest room closest to his room so she could listen for him in case he needed something during the night. Mrs. Carlson arrived every morning before the sun came up to bring over fresh bread and help Rebecca with anything she needed.

  Rebecca attended to Ryan with great care. The doctor had said he might have a touch of pneumonia, which was a frightening thought to Rebecca. Just as the doctor ordered, Rebecca gave Ryan a regular dose of brandy. She sat diligently by his bedside, placing wet rags on his forehead when he was burning with fever. She changed and washed his sweat-soaked sheets to ensure he remained as comfortable as possible. In the mornings, she would bring in a jug of steaming hot water and add a few drops of camphor. Rebecca made Ryan take deep breaths of the pungent steam to clear out his lungs. Then she’d wipe his sweaty face and feed him hot oatmeal sweetened with molasses.

  Rebecca put her skills in the kitchen to use. While Ryan slept, she made me
als, many of which he barely ate. The house had been neglected for years, and layers of dust had settled in every corner and virtually every surface. She dusted, scrubbed, and added a woman’s touch where needed. She brought in wild flowers and placed them around the house. She fluffed pillows and cleaned rugs. Soon, the house began to feel like a home.

  Rebecca managed Ryan’s hired help to ensure the cattle were cared for and the chores were completed. In the short time she had spent with the Carlsons, she had learned to manage a ranch without even realizing it. Luckily, the men were used to working on Ryan’s ranch, so they didn’t need much guidance.

  When Ryan was awake, he spent the days telling her about his childhood and the pain of losing his family. He spoke of his wife and how sad it was when she died. They talked about their favorite foods and books they enjoyed. Ryan’s memories spanned out over his lifetime, but Rebecca was only able to share her favorite memories from recent weeks.

  Within a week, Ryan was starting to feel better. Rebecca invited him on a walk as she thought the fresh air would be good for him. Five minutes of strolling at a leisurely place brought them to a fenced area where Ryan kept his three favorite cows, which he kept as pets. They opened the gate and walked in. Ryan had brought a few apples to feed the cows. Ryan held out the fruit to his favorite cow, Pearl, which she refused, much to his disappointment. Rebecca wanted to try, and Pearl took the apple from her hand.

  “Traitor,” said Ryan jokingly, as he gave Pearl an affection stroke down her long neck.

  Rebecca admired the treatment of the animals that were in his care, which was a true testament to his kind nature.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” asked Ryan, playfully petting Pearl.

  Rebecca could only agree. In fact, everything surrounding her was beautiful, from the sprawling, green pasture scattered with clumps of wild flowers to the lovely blue of the sky. Soon they saw the hired hands approaching, and Rebecca insisted they return back to Ryan’s house so he didn’t wear himself out.

  She looped her arm through his, and the two walked back to his house in a comfortable silence.