by Natalie Dean
The eager expression remained on his face when he riffled through his pockets and pulled out a small brochure entitled “The Hand and Heart.”
Bernadette only had to flip through several pages to see what it was. Each yellowed page contained grainy photographs and descriptions of men out West in search of brides.
“I figured since it worked out so well for Matt,” he said. “I might try it for myself. There might be a woman back East looking to help a man out on a large ranch.”
Bernadette continued to flip through the brochure until she came to Billy’s own ad.
“I couldn’t spare the money for a photograph,” he said. “But, Mrs. Matthews helped me put in a pretty good description.”
“So, Mrs. Matthews helped with this advertisement?” Bernadette asked.
“Yes Ma’am,” he said. “I was never good at writing. I can sign my name and write a few other words but, that’s about the extent of it.”
“I see,” Bernadette said.
She glanced through the description and the advertisement all the same.
The writing was plain but, Mrs. Matthews had done a fairly good job matching Billy’s simple tone of speech.
In the ad, he claimed to be seeking a young lady, no older than thirty-two who was independent, educated and willing to work on a farm or ranch.
Independent and educated certainly described her sister-in-law. And she knew Lizzie had never shied away from even the most difficult of work.
What’s more, when Bernadette lifted her eyes from the page to Billy, she could see that this boy with big dreams and little grasp of reality would need a partner who could keep him grounded. Lizzie was more than capable of that task.
And, when she looked at Billy again, she was certain he would be able to lift Lizzie out of her more serious moods. Get her to see the world through rose-colored glasses every once in a while.
In the ad, Billy had put down his own age, twenty-five. She knew Lizzie would never agree to marry a man younger than her.
Even before George died, it was clear that Lizzie was not able to have children. And, she always said she could not saddle a man younger than thirty with the burden of a barren wife.
Still, Bernadette thought that, if she found the right man, she could be persuaded to forget this dramatic vow.
Until then, however, a simple marking over Billy’s age in the handbill would suffice. She could hide it from Lizzie until the two of them met in person. Once they did, perhaps it wouldn’t matter at all.
“Well, what do you think?” Billy asked as though genuinely eager for her opinion.
“It’s a splendid advertisement,” Bernadette said, trying to calm her excitement. “In fact, do you mind if I were to take this home with me? I have a friend who might prove interested.”
“You’re welcome to it,” Billy said. “I’ve got another copy.”
“Thank you, Billy,” she said.
As she bid him farewell and made her way back to the front room where Mrs. Matthews was minding Amelia, she tried to quell the excitement in her chest.
There was no guarantee, after all, that Lizzie would agree to her scheme. And, even if she did, there was no guarantee that Billy and Lizzie would take to one another.
Still, Bernadette found that she could not quell the feeling of excitement when she realized that, very soon, she might no longer feel quite so alone in Laramie.
Chapter 3
Lizzie could not believe she had agreed to this.
And, yet, here she was. In a covered buggy, pushed up next to a lawyer and his wife, and an entirely silent banker, making her way towards the town of Laramie, Wyoming.
Of course, she reminded herself, she’d had little choice in the matter.
Lizzie had been living in a rented room in a boarding house just outside Philadelphia when she received the first letter from her sister-in-law, Bernadette, bearing the suggestion that she answer a request for correspondence “with an eye towards matrimony” from a young man in the town Bernadette lives in.
The bank had already pushed her out of her home. And, the small income her husband George had left to her when he passed on was beginning to run dry.
A new marriage was, truly, one of the very few options she had left available to her.
Not to mention, this Bill Peters sounded very suitable.
The letters she’d received were well written, descriptive and filled with eager plans for the ranch he planned to create. That ranch, truly, was one of the driving forces that caused her to accept his proposal.
After weeks of staying in her room at the boarding house, Lizzie had become desperate to feel useful again.
When she had run a boarding house of her own, there had always been something to do. Whether that be cleaning or keeping the accounting books or registering new guests.
She imagined helping to run a ranch would be similar in many ways. There would, perhaps, be more manual labor involved.
When Lizzie thought about that, she did worry that her soft, plump body might become a detriment.
Her curvy frame and thick brown hair were made for an eastern city. Not the Wild West.
However, she had always been quick to acclimate to her surroundings.
Yes, she could not help but feel a sense of contentment when she realized that she would, once again, be running a business. And, if marriage to Bill Porter was the price of a share in that business…well…that was perfectly fine.
She realized, of course, that this was not the most romantic way to describe one’s future husband but, she’d never been one for unnecessary sentiment. She had loved George. Any man who came after him would simply not compare. No matter how many good qualities he possessed.
Not to mention, the fact that she was barren would certainly put a deterrent in any attempt to make this marriage feel like the beginning of a family.
And, the fact that this thirty-one-year-old Billy Peters seemed perfectly fine with her inability to have children told her that he was looking for a business partner and not a romantic one.
This, while not ideal, would suit her perfectly.
The sense of contentment dissipated somewhat when the carriage moved over a log in the road rustling the passengers within.
The lawyer was shoved into Lizzie who, in turn, felt crushed against the window.
She had never thought much of her larger than average girth before moving west. However, in the past few days, since being shoved into a small carriage with four other passengers, and riding for hours with few stops, she was beginning to see her own body as a hindrance.
The lawyer’s elbow against her side forced Lizzie to turn to the window. Here, after hours of seeing nothing but open fields and mountains, she saw her first glimpse of civilization.
“I take it we are approaching Laramie,” she told the other passengers decisively.
“And about time too,” the lawyer’s wife said primly, straightening her dress. “I am not certain I would be able to stand another moment in this carriage. If you ask me, the sooner they finish the railroad west, the better.”
“I’m afraid that will take longer than expected, my dear,” the lawyer said. “At the rate the government works, it could be a decade or more before we see any progress on that front.”
Lizzie’s eyes wandered back to the town.
It was, certainly, much smaller than those she was used to. Each of the buildings; the bank, the general store, even the church had a hastily constructed look about them. As though someone had recognized too late the need for a town in that area.
The carriage finally came to a halt beside the hotel. Lizzie’s anxiety vanished the moment a familiar face crossed her line of vision from the carriage window.
“Lizzie!”
Her sister-in-law Bernadette cried excitedly as Lizzie climbed down the carriage steps.
Before Lizzie could say a word, the smaller woman had her enveloped in a huge hug. A moment passed before Lizzie, surprised, returned the embrace
. When she did, Bernadette’s small arms moved so tightly around Lizzie’s waist that she began to worry that the smaller woman might squeeze the life out of her entirely.
Just when she was about to run out of breath, Bernadette pulled back, a bright smile on her face.
“I am so glad to see you,” Bernadette said genuinely.
“I’m pleased to see you as well, Bernadette,” Lizzie said. “You look well.”
This was not merely a platitude. When Lizzie looked her sister-in-law over, she could not deny that she looked a good deal healthier than she had when she’d left Pennsylvania.
The shadows beneath Bernadette’s eyes that had appeared after Frank’s death were now gone. Even her pale skin looked brighter. Perhaps it was the fresh air.
“I am well,” Bernadette said taking Lizzie’s arm and pulling her towards the hotel’s front doors. Here a tall, stocky man with tan skin and a little blonde haired babe resting in his arms met them.
“Lizzie,” she said pulling her towards them. “This is my husband, Mattathias. Matt, this is Lizzie Dixon. My sister-in-law.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said shifting the sleeping child from one arm to the other so he could take Lizzie’s hand in his.
“You as well, Mr. Jacobs,” she said. “And, I assume this is Amelia.”
“Your niece,” Bernadette said. She reached out her arms to hold the baby. Amelia let out a small sleepy cry of protest that quieted immediately when Mattathias placed the little girl safely in her mother’s arms.
The cries of protest turned into little noises of settled contentment as Bernadette held the baby out for Lizzie to see more clearly.
As Lizzie inspected the child, she could see that she had inherited her mother’s blonde hair. She imagined it would be as thick as Bernadette’s when she got older.
The nose, though, was all Frank. The mouth, likewise, reminded Lizzie of her late brother-in-law.
A small, sad ping resounded in her heart when the little girl scrunched her face, and she could almost see a ghost smiling back at her.
She tore her eyes away from the child and looked back up to Bernadette.
“As glad as I am to see you, Bernadette,” she said. “I was hoping to meet my fiancé here. I imagined he would greet me at the door.”
Lizzie thought she saw her sister-in-law’s face fall just a bit. A hint of a blush covered Bernadette’s cheeks as though she were about to reveal something embarrassing.
A moment later Bernadette affected a bright but entirely false smile. Lizzie recognized this as the smile Bernadette tended to use when she was trying to hide some secret.
“Billy’s just inside,” Matt answered before Bernadette could respond. “He’ll be out in a moment to grab the bags.”
“Well, that is quite gallant of him,” Lizzie said, surprised. “But, surely the hotel has a porter for that.”
“They do,” Matt said, his eyes now narrowing in confusion. “Billy. He’s been working as a porter at the hotel for the past few months.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened, and she glanced to Bernadette who was now bouncing the baby on her hip and looking determinately away from Lizzie.
“I was…under the impression that Mr. Peters helped to run the hotel,” Lizzie said. “When he wrote to me, he implied that he assisted with the bookkeeping and front desk duties.”
Matt let out a short chuckle.
“I’m afraid you may have gotten the wrong impression then,” he said. “Billy’s a hard worker, don’t get me wrong about that. But, he wouldn’t know how to balance an account even if he could read what was written in it. Mrs. Matthews handles all of that.”
Lizzie’s heart sank as she turned her eyes to Bernadette who was keeping her eyes as far from Lizzie’s glare as possible.
“I am sorry, Mr. Jacobs, I don’t quite understand,” she said. Though she addressed Matt, her eyes remained firmly locked on her sister-in-law.
“If Mr. Peters is incapable of reading, how was he able to write letters to me?”
Matt’s eyes now landed on his wife. His confusion now turning to understanding.
“Mrs. Matthews and Bernadette took dictation from him,” he said. “I thought Bernadette would have told you that.”
Lizzie saw Bernadette’s blush deepen when she looked up at her husband.
“I did not see the need,” Bernadette said with more than a hint of defensiveness. “The words were Billy’s even if he didn’t write them. And, frankly, I don’t think you give the boy enough credit, Matt. Billy is perfectly capable of reading figures even if he doesn’t do it often.”
Lizzie was about to remind Bernadette that, in her initial letter about Bill Peters, Bernadette had led her to believe that he was not simply ‘capable’ of reading figures.
In that initial letter, Bernadette had gone on and on about Bill Peter’s head for business matters. She’d told Lizzie how intelligent and thoughtful he was. That he had a business plan for his ranch already mapped out.
In short, she had made him seem the perfect partner.
Before Lizzie could remind Bernadette of these false promises her sister had given, a loud noise from inside the hotel caused the little group to jump and turn.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here as soon as the carriage arrived,” a young man said hurriedly, running a hand through his messy brown hair in a futile attempt to straighten it.
“You must be Lizzie. Your picture doesn’t do you justice! But, then, I guess photographs never seem to. I only have the one of me, and I don’t think it’s a very good likeness at all. I’m Billy. Though, I suppose you’ve gathered that by now.”
He said all this very quickly before proudly sticking his hand out as though he were greeting a business partner or male colleague.
He was young. Much younger than Lizzie could have ever expected.
When she took in his stature and bearing, she realized the boy could not be older than twenty-five.
She had come here prepared to meet a thirty-one-year-old business man.
Lizzie glanced to Bernadette before extending her hand to the boy as gently as she could.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Peters,” Lizzie said quietly. Billy gave a slight chuckle.
“I’ve never gone by Mr. Peters, Ma’am,” he said. “Reminds me too much of my Pa. Billy’s fine with me.”
“Billy then,” Lizzie said throwing a slight glare to her sister-in-law. This talkative young man was hardly the mature, business savvy gentleman Bernadette’s description and Bill Peter’s letters had painted.
“I’m sure you’re tired, Lizzie,” Bernadette said quickly, clearly sensing the animosity coming from Lizzie. “Why don’t we go inside and get you settled?”
“I’ll take your bag,” Billy said eagerly, reaching down and grasping the large case Lizzie had brought with her.
“Thank you, Mr.…Billy,” she said correcting herself.
“No trouble at all,” he said giving her a smile that caused his bright brown eyes to crease at the edges. That one smile almost made Lizzie think that this whole arrangement might not be so bad after all.
But, that smile also served to make her future husband look much younger. Which, in turn, reminded her just how much older than this boy she appeared to be.
Billy took both Lizzie’s bag and the cases of the other patrons inside. Matt followed him a moment after.
Bernadette, her face still burning from having been discovered went to follow her husband, Amelia still squirming in her arms but, before she could, Lizzie pulled her back.
“Apparently, Mr. Peter’s letters were not as accurate as I had assumed them to be,” Lizzie said immediately to her sister-in-law, whose face flushed.
“They were accurate enough,” Bernadette protested; though the way she bit down on her lip and moved her eyes to the side told Lizzie that even she did not quite believe this lie.
“You lead me to believe that he was a gentleman around my own age who was well educated with
a firm plan for his own business,” Lizzie reprimanded.
“He does have a firm plan for his own business,” Bernadette said. “The house on the ranch is nearly complete. He already has a head of cattle purchased.”
“It will be difficult for him to run that ranch without being able to read or write,” Lizzie said, her arms crossed, glaring down at Bernadette. Bernadette’s face colored again as she looked back to the ground.
“I may have exaggerated his better qualities a bit,” Bernadette admitted finally.
“As well as his age,” Lizzie said now blushing herself. She knew she was no longer in the spring of life. A man as young as Billy should have been looking forward to starting a family. Now, he would be saddled with a barren, thirty-three-year-old widow.
“Lizzie, he is close enough to your age. You are not so old as you seem to think.”
“I am old enough for people to talk,” she said. “Besides that, I am not certain that I feel comfortable having a better education than my husband.”
“Education is not always indicative of intelligence,” Bernadette reminded her. “You of all people should know that.”
Lizzie opened her mouth to contest the point but found that she could not. As a woman of few means who was largely self-taught, she’d experienced the same prejudice she now seemed to be placing upon this poor boy. As she was about to give some sort of conciliatory answer, Bernadette heaved an impatient sigh.
“Lizzie, the wedding is still nearly two weeks away,” she said finally. “Just…promise me you will take that time to get to know Billy. I am sure you will find that you are well suited to one another.”
“And if it turns out we are not?” Lizzie asked.
“Then you will not have to go through with the wedding,” Bernadette said firmly. “If that is your decision at the end of two weeks, I will speak to Billy. You won’t have to confront him yourself.”
Lizzie tried to think of some flaw in this plan. She could only find one.
“There’s no need for you to deliver my messages for me, Bernadette,” Lizzie said. “If I am certain this arrangement will not work, I’ll tell the boy myself.”