by Kit Morgan
“There are a few other bachelors in town,” Luke informed her. “We’d be happy to introduce you once you get settled in.”
“I think that, after this experience, I’d like to stay away from any thoughts about marriage for a while,” Daisy told them with a weak smile.
Winnie chuckled. “We understand. Don’t worry, things are going to turn out just fine.”
Daisy stared at them both, and in that moment a peace came over her. It was true – things were going to turn out all right. She didn’t have to be married to survive this. She could make it on her own. And maybe in a few years, she might think again about matrimony. Until then, she was going to make a life for herself, and a darn good one if she had her way.
Five
“Your mother did what?” Garrett Vander asked in shock.
Morgan glanced at the ceiling overhead and waved a hand at his friend. “Keep your voice down, will you? My aunt will hear us.”
Garrett ignored his request and laughed. “Did she really get you a mail-order bride and not tell you?”
“It’s not funny,” Morgan snapped. “What would you do if your mother did it to you?”
That sobered him. “I don’t know … it depends.” Garrett drummed his fingers on the mercantile counter. “First off, it would depend if she was pretty, and secondly if she had a brain. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a dumb woman. And third, can she cook? Let’s face it; there isn’t a lot to choose from around here, unless you want to marry a ten-year-old.”
“That’s just it. Aunt Eunice has it in her head to marry me off to …” Morgan looked around as if Aunt Eunice might pop out of the pickle barrel, “… Bernice Caulder.”
Garrett gasped. “No!”
“Yes!”
“That’s a fate worse than …”
“Tell me about it!”
“She can’t do that, can she?”
Morgan straightened as he thought a moment. “No, come to think of it. Why am I getting so worried?”
“They can’t force you to marry Bernice. But until they get that through their heads …” Garrett shook his own head and let out a low whistle. “… your life is going to be miserable.”
Morgan groaned, and rested his elbows against the front counter. “I don’t understand how I got into this mess, I really don’t. I come back from college, I go to work in the family business, and I figure maybe a year or so down the road, someone who’s pretty and a good cook might come into town …”
“So is she?”
“She?” Morgan asked confused.
“Your mail-order bride.” Garrett rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Is she pretty?”
Morgan stared at him as Miss Evers’s face flashed before him. “Yes, very.”
“Really?” Garrett was suddenly more interested.
Morgan nodded as he recalled her unusual green eyes and creamy complexion. There was also a spunk about the girl that was evident during their conversation at the café earlier.
“Can she cook?”
Garrett’s voice pulled him out of his musings. “I don’t know – I never asked.”
“Is she intelligent?”
“Garrett, I said I don’t know. I was too busy trying to …” Morgan’s shoulders slumped. “… to get rid of her.”
“Get rid of her?!”
“Yes! What else am I going to do? I didn’t send for her – my mother did.”
“Now you have your Aunt Eunice wanting to marry you off to Bernice Caulder. Of the two, which is the lesser evil?”
“It’s not a matter of the lesser evil, Garrett. I don’t want to be married.”
“There’ll be a price to pay for hanging onto your bachelorhood, and I hope you’re able to pay it. Bernice will probably be in here nine times a day at least after tonight.”
Morgan shook his head and closed his eyes in resignation. “Don’t remind me. I’m going to hate having to tell her it won’t happen … well, really I’m going to hate her reaction after I tell her it won’t happen.”
“You’ve never even courted her. How can she be disappointed in something that never existed to begin with?”
“I’m talking about Bernice here.”
Garrett mused on that for a moment. “Okay, good point. But what about the other one? What kind of a look did she give you when you told her you didn’t want her?”
Morgan closed his eyes again and sighed.
“That bad?”
Morgan nodded. “I feel like such a heel. I can’t believe my mother did this.”
“Maybe I’ll marry her,” Garrett stated.
“What?”
“Maybe I’ll marry her. You said she’s pretty, and I can find out if she’s intelligent, and if she can cook. If so, then hey, I’m one lucky fella.”
“You mean you want to get married? Now?”
“Why not? I have to marry sometime. If she’s suitable and willing, why wait?”
Morgan couldn’t believe his ears. He and Garrett had always talked about getting married around the same time, so their children could grow up together. This wasn’t the plan. He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “This is such a mess, and the day’s not even over.”
“Where is she anyway?”
“Who?”
“Your bride, genius. Well, your non-bride, I guess …”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Good grief! I have no idea – I never had a chance to go back to the café!” He untied his store apron, pulled it off, and threw it at Garrett. “Mind the mercantile! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”
Garrett stared after him as Morgan ran out of the building like his pants were on fire. “Find out if she can cook!” he yelled after him and chuckled. He then put on the apron and went behind the counter to wait for a customer.
* * *
Morgan ran down the street to the café. It had been at least three hours since he’d spoken with Daisy Evers and she’d told him to leave her alone. If he felt like a heel before, then he smelled like a low-down skunk now.
He raced into the café, came to an abrupt stop, and almost smacked right into Mayor Vander. “Morgan Tindle!” the mayor boomed. “What’s your hurry?”
Morgan ignored him and looked for the waitress. “Clara!” he called, then spied her. “Where’s the young woman who was in here earlier with Pastor Luke’s wife?”
Clara shrugged. “I don’t know, but they left together.”
“Thank you!” he replied then looked at Mayor Vander. “Excuse me, Mayor; can’t talk now!” He hurried out the door, but not so fast that he didn’t hear the mayor grumble over his hasty exit. He’d have to explain later, but right now he needed to find Daisy!
When he reached the street, he slowed his pace in order to catch his breath. What was his hurry, other than to apologize to the woman and see she got back to wherever she’d come from? But hadn’t she told him that she couldn’t go back? And where did she say she was from – New Orleans?
“She’s an orphan,” he said and stopped in the middle of the street. “How can I send an orphan girl back to New Orleans?” He remembered his mother, not to mention Mrs. Vander and Mrs. Smythe, talking about the horrors awaiting young girls who left the orphanages of New Orleans. Winnie Adams had told them all about it. With no family to help, and no jobs in the war-torn city, their future was usually in the brothels.
Granted, every large city had some houses of ill repute. But the type of establishments Mrs. Adams knew about, as told to her by her Aunt Eugena (didn’t she run a mail-order bride service?), were worse than most. Apparently there was a ring of white slavers in the city that preyed upon weak strays. The Evers girl was pretty, and would no doubt have been snatched up by such men once they found her. Winnie’s aunt was trying to do her part to thwart their efforts by sending girls out of the city as mail-order brides as soon as they reached the age of eighteen and had to leave the orphanages. If Daisy Evers was such a girl, Morgan would be a villain to send her back.
�
��So what do I do now?” he asked himself. It would much be safer for her to stay in Independence and carve out a life here. Besides, if she didn’t marry him, she’d eventually marry someone. Garrett sprang to mind, along with a big dose of jealousy. His friend was tall, strong, smart, handsome, had a bit of money and was the mayor’s son – he could have any woman he wanted. Too bad there weren’t any around, except Bernice Caulder.
Not that Morgan or Garrett disliked Bernice – they’d both grown up with her. But Bernice hadn’t really grown up – she was as immature and clingy as she’d been when she was a toddler. Neither he nor Garrett, nor their friend Julian Smythe for that matter, were willing to wait to see if she ever figured it out – her childishness was more than they could take.
But like the Vanders, the Caulders had money – what Aunt Eunice had interpreted as breeding, not knowing that Matthias Caulder had started out as the son of a Tennessee dirt farmer and worked his way up through ruthless salesmanship. (His wife Eunice was to the manor – or rather, the plantation – born, and never let anyone forget it, but most of her family’s wealth had been lost in the war.) No wonder his aunt had taken it upon herself to speak with Bernice’s father and invite them to supper that night … a supper that was only a couple of hours away!
The thought made Morgan feel like a noose had begun to tighten around his neck. But he’d deal with that later. First things first.
He walked to the church, went up the porch steps of the parsonage, and knocked on the door. After a few moments, Winnie answered. “Morgan Tindle,” she said flatly. “What can I do for you?”
“Please don’t be vexed with me, Mrs. Adams. I need you on my side.”
Winnie stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “Your side? If you’re here to tell that poor girl you’re going to send her back, the only side I’ll show you is the outside.”
“But … I didn’t say …”
“You didn’t have to. I know that’s what you’ve come for.”
“Mrs. Adams, please, that’s not why I’m here. I know that’s not an option.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
Morgan shook his head. “No … that’s not why I’m here either.”
Winnie placed her hands on her hips. “Then what?”
“I …” Morgan straightened and stared off into space. Good grief, he hadn’t really thought about a plan!
“Well?” Winnie prompted.
He shook his head slowly, his mouth refusing to open. He finally slapped his forehead with a hand, hoping it would knock some sense into him. For a second he pictured himself at the altar in front of Pastor Luke with Daisy at his side. “I just … want to make sure she’s all right.”
“How can she be all right? She came all the way out here from New Orleans for nothing. But I’ll tell you something, Morgan Tindle; she’s got a lot more gumption than you give her credit for.”
“She does?” he asked, both brows raised.
“Yes, and she’s perfectly willing to stay and make a go of it here, no thanks to you.”
“But I … I didn’t mean to …”
“Whether you did or not, Miss Evers is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Was there anything else you wanted?”
“Well … I … is she okay?”
“Morgan! Did you hear anything I just said?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Adams. I’ve had a very hard afternoon.”
Winnie’s expression softened. “Is everything all right?” she asked in all seriousness.
“My mother had to go see Doc because my Aunt Eunice says I got her upset over this whole mail-order bride business – even though I didn’t even know about it until a few hours ago. Now my aunt has taken over the mercantile, invited the Caulders to supper with Bernice, and is talking about marriage and a wedding.”
“What?!” Winnie yelped. She quickly regained her composure and smiled. “You did change your mind about Miss Evers? Oh Morgan, that’s wonderful! I’m sorry to hear about your mother, though …”
“No, Mrs. Adams, you don’t understand. The Caulders are coming to supper to discuss marriage to Bernice.”
Winnie blanched. “Oh! Oh dear …”
“Precisely.” Morgan winced. “My aunt has it in her head, and wants to get it into my mother’s, that I should be marrying Bernice Caulder and not the woman my mother sent for.”
Winnie shook her head and chuckled, catching Morgan by surprise. “Have you ever considered that maybe the Lord is trying to tell you something, Morgan? Maybe it’s time you did get married.”
“To Bernice Caulder?!” he asked in shock
“No, don’t be ridiculous – she’s no more ready for marriage than the Edmonson baby. I’m talking about the lovely young woman who’s in my home right now, the one who traveled thousands of miles to marry you. And who I think is a very nice girl.”
“But Mrs. Adams, I barely know her …”
“Morgan, did it ever occur to you that you don’t have to get married tomorrow? You can take the time to court Miss Evers – she’s not going anywhere. And who knows, you might find you like her a lot.”
Morgan stared at her, dumbfounded. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Besides, if he didn’t court Miss Evers, Garrett certainly would. And if he let Garrett court her, then his aunt would push marriage to Bernice down his throat. The thought galled him. What was he to do?
“Morgan Tindle,” Winnie nudged, crossing her arms. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
“Maybe you’re right,” he told her. “Maybe I should court Miss Evers. Yes, that might work.”
“Are you serious now? Because you’ve been going around and around like a weathervane today …”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m serious. Mrs. Adams, would you inform Miss Evers that I’d like to call on her tomorrow?”
Winnie sighed. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Is this just because your aunt is talking with the Caulders?”
“No, it’s not.” Not just that, anyway. “My intentions are honorable, and your wisdom has been received. I’ll tell the Caulders I’ve changed my mind, and that I really would like to get to know Miss Evers better and see if we’d suit. Which I do.” He still had no plans to getting married, but this would solve the current crisis, at least temporarily. Daisy would have a purpose in being here, and he would get his mother and his aunt – and Bernice – off his back. He just hoped Bernice didn’t set her sights on Garrett or Julian next.
“All right, Morgan, if you’re sincere, I shall inform Miss Evers that you will call on her tomorrow.”
Six
Daisy sat in the Adams’ parlor, nervously waiting for Morgan Tindle to arrive. Winnie had told her he wanted to call on her, but she didn’t know what to think about that. He’d seemed so adamant the day before about not wanting to have anything to do with her. Perhaps he just wanted to come apologize again. But what if he’d had time to think about it and now wanted to pursue her? Had he changed his mind?
A knock sounded at the door, and Daisy jumped. She watched Winnie go down the hall to answer it. “Mr. Tindle,” she greeted and motioned him inside.
He took a few steps into the front hall and couldn’t help but see Daisy sitting in the parlor. “Good morning, Mrs. Adams, Miss Evers,” he said as he removed his hat.
Daisy stood and gave him a single nod. “Mr. Tindle. What brings you here?” Tact had never been her strong suit.
He came into the parlor and stood in front of her. “I was thinking we didn’t get off to a very good start yesterday …”
“To say the least.”
She saw Winnie wince as Morgan continued. “And I wondered if we could try again?”
“In what way, Mr. Tindle?”
“Please,” he began, “call me Morgan.”
Daisy’s eyes narrowed. Did he really think it was so easy to get back in her good graces? “I have no reason to do so,” she said levelly. “After
all, we’re not courting.”
“About that,” he said. “I’d like to reconsider you as my mail-order bride.”
“Reconsider me?” Interesting choice of words …
“Yes. I’ve thought about it and realize I may have been too hasty in dismissing the idea. You have to admit, it was quite a shock, not knowing you were coming.”
“It was a shock for me to learn you didn’t know I was.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So what do you say? Can we give each other another chance?”
Winnie leaned past him to look at Daisy, her eyebrows raised. Daisy ignored her. “And if we find we don’t suit?”
“Then we find we don’t suit,” he said. “You go your way, and I go mine.”
Winnie stepped around them and stood next to Daisy. “So what you’re saying, Morgan, is that you want to court Miss Evers and … try things out?”
“I … thought that’s what I just said.”
“You said you’d like to see if the two of you would suit. She’s a mail-order bride, Morgan. Mail-order brides usually get married to their grooms immediately upon arrival.”
“But not always - you of all people, Mrs. Adams, know that.”
“Pastor Adams and I didn’t get married right away because he didn’t know I was his mail-order bride,” Winnie countered
“Precisely my point.”
She chuckled, then looked him in the eye. “I think I’ll go make some coffee.” She started to walk past him, then stopped and leaned a few inches in his direction. “Remember what we talked about yesterday.” She then left the parlor.
“What was that about?” Daisy asked.
He shrugged and went toward the sofa. “Nothing major, really. Would you care to sit down?”
She sat at one end of the sofa, still not sure what to make of all this, as he settled himself on the other. She clasped her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead. “So what would you like to know about me?” she asked. When he didn’t say anything, she looked at him. “Well?”