Mail Order Midwife
Kirsten Osbourne
Brides of Beckham
Copyright 2016 Kirsten Osbourne
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Widowed midwife Patsy Lawrence spent too much time working and not enough with her young daughter. She felt like life was passing her by, and she knew Emily's childhood would be over before she realized it. So she took matters into her own hands and responded to a letter for a mail order bride, hoping for a better future for herself and her daughter.
Dr. Wesley Hardy was happy with his frontier existence, but he needed a wife to complete him, so he sent a letter to a mail bride agency back East, hoping to find someone compatible. The idea of having a wife who would cook all his meals and keep his home and clothes in order made him happy. When he received a letter from a widow with a young daughter, he was thrilled with everything but her profession. Could he live with the fact that his new bride was a midwife? Or would they be destined to live without love for the rest of their days?
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Chapter One
Dr. Wesley Hardy walked into his home behind his office, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted, and there was no dinner cooking. He needed to hire a woman to come in and cook his meals. Better yet, he needed to get married, so he would have someone cooking his meals as well as cleaning for him.
But who could he possibly find? There were four unattached women in Butterfly Meadows, and two were prostitutes. Of the other two, one was sixteen, and much too young for a man of thirty-two, and the other was fifty-seven, and her bad temper was legendary in all of South Dakota. No, he didn’t want to marry anyone he knew.
The last time he’d been in town, he’d seen an advertisement for a newspaper that was called the Grooms’ Gazette. He knew it advertised men who were looking to marry women back East. Women who wanted to marry a man in the West. He wasn’t exactly a cowboy, but he was a man of the West. Now. He’d started out in New York City, but there hadn’t been a terrible need for doctors there. No, Butterfly Meadows was where he belonged. Now he just had to find a way to bring a suitable woman here to be his bride.
He sat down, picking up his pen, and ignoring his rumbling stomach.
Dear Potential Bride,
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Wesley Hardy, and I’m a doctor in the beautiful town of Butterfly Meadows, South Dakota. We’re a small town, but we have enough of the comforts of the East to be habitable by a gentle lady. I’m thirty-two years old, and I have all my teeth. I’ve never been told that foul odors emanate from my person, and my face has never made small children run away in horror.
I’m looking for a bride who enjoys cooking and cleaning. I would prefer someone between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. I’m not fussy about appearance but would consider myself fortunate indeed if she had red hair. If this sounds like you, and you are willing to make your way to Butterfly Meadows and see what my town has to offer, please let me know. I will happily pay your train fair.
Sincerely,
Dr. Wesley Hardy
He read through his words once more, looking for errors. He couldn’t make a bad first impression on the woman who would someday be his wife.
After pushing the letter away, he got to his feet to see about supper. Surely there was something he could make that would be palatable.
*****
Patsy Lawrence brushed the hair out of her face, noticing that her hand was covered with blood. The new mother was holding her baby and cooing to her happily, and her sister was beside her. “I’m going to go clean up and then call in Bob. He’s going to be so proud of his son.”
The mother looked up with tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you!”
Patsy smiled, going to the pump and washing her hands and face. She hoped she didn’t need another bath. She’d taken one just a few hours before she was called to birth the baby. She’d been a midwife since before her daughter was born, and she thanked God every day she’d taken up the vocation.
When her husband had died unexpectedly five years before, she had been able to support herself and her little girl, Emily, while taking the time to grieve. So many women would have had to marry again right off, but she’d not been in that position, and she was thankful.
After scrubbing herself up to her elbows with lye soap, she smiled down at the new mother. “I’ll come by tomorrow to check on you.” She looked at the new aunt. “Are you going to stay and help with meals for a day or two?”
Alice, an old schoolmate of Patsy’s, nodded. “I will be here for as long as she needs me. We’ll send for you if something goes awry, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. Thank you so much for helping us.”
Patsy gave a tired wave. “You know I’m here whenever I’m needed.”
“Did you leave Emily with your mother?”
Patsy nodded. “I did. I’m off to get her now.” It was after eleven at night, and she and her daughter both should have been in bed hours before.
The walk through the city of Beckham, Massachusetts was always eerie at this time of night. She was used to the streets filled with people, rushing to where they needed to be.
Her job as a midwife had kept her and her daughter fed and clothed for the past five years, but she was becoming discontent. She was ready to marry again and have more children of her own. There was nothing in the world more precious than holding a newborn and knowing you got to keep them, not having to give them to their mother as soon as they were clean.
She loved her daughter with everything inside her, even though she wasn’t the most ladylike little girl who had ever graced Beckham. No, Emily preferred to climb trees and run around playing tag and baseball to sitting quietly doing embroidery. Because Patsy worked so much, her daughter had been allowed to run a bit wild. She knew she needed to take her in hand, but she also knew the girl would find her way. Eventually, she’d be happy to sit in a dress and be a lady. It just might not be tomorrow.
Patsy stopped at her mother’s house, rapping softly on the door. She never knew what to expect after a late night delivery. Sometimes Emily would keep her mother up until all hours, and other times, Emily would be sound asleep and have to be carried home.
Her mother hurried to the door, pointing to where Emily was sleeping soundly on the sofa. “I guess I’m going to be carrying her home tonight.”
Her mother smiled. “I guess you are. Did the delivery go well?”
Patsy nodded. “As well as any first births do. Both mother and baby are healthy. She had a little boy.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. Have they named him yet?”
“Not unless they did it after I left.” Patsy stifled a yawn with her hand. “I should be on my way. I need to get some sleep while I can. I have three more mothers who are close to their due dates, and I take my rests whenever possible.” She stepped into the house and went to pick Emily up, putting the girl's arms over her shoulders, and wrapping her legs around her waist to make it easier on herself. “I’ll see you soon, Mama. Thank you for watching her.”
Her mother frowned as she opened the door, and Patsy understo
od. She looked tired, because she was. She hadn’t eaten in twelve hours since she was summoned to the birthing. She needed to go home and fix herself a meal, but most likely, she’d get Emily into her nightgown and fall into her own bed, exhausted. That’s how her days went.
She needed to find a husband, someone who could take some of the burden. She’d probably still deliver babies, but it would be nice if she got some breaks from it.
She closed her eyes, thinking about how easy life would be if she married again. Maybe she would go see Elizabeth Tandy, one of her favorite people at church. She had a mail order bride agency. Certainly there was someone who was willing to take on a twenty-seven-year-old widow with a sweet little girl. It was a big country!
As she drifted off to sleep, she made her decision. She’d do it. She was too tired not to.
*****
After seeing Emily off to school the following morning, Patsy made the short walk to Rock Creek Road where Elizabeth Tandy lived in a huge house with her new husband, Bernard. She knocked on the door, and Mr. Tandy opened it, smiling at her. “Are you here to see Elizabeth?”
Patsy nodded, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. It wasn’t every day a woman went to a matchmaker in hopes of finding a husband. “Yes, is she in?”
“She’s in her office. I take it this is a business call?” Bernard’s eyes were discerning as he studied her face.
“Yes, I’m here to speak with her about becoming a mail order bride.”
Bernard nodded, opening the door wide. “If you’ll follow me, Mrs. Lawrence.”
Patsy followed him down the long hall to the last door on the left, where Elizabeth was sitting at her desk, working on something.
Bernard cleared his throat. “My dear, Patsy Lawrence is here to see you.”
Elizabeth turned from her desk, her smile lighting up the room. “Patsy, it’s good to see you!” She hurried across the room and hugged Patsy. “I have a feeling this call is more business than pleasure. Am I right?”
Patsy nodded. “Am I so transparent?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I’ve been watching you. When you first lost your husband, I thought about stepping in and offering to find you a husband, but I could see you needed time to grieve. You and Joseph were wonderful together, and I know it was a blow when he died. I’ve seen that in the past few months you’ve been ready for more, because now you always look tired instead of sad.”
Patsy frowned. “Am I really that transparent?”
“Probably not to other people, but it’s my job to read people. I actually got a letter just yesterday that I considered bringing to you. I even wrote your name on my list next to his.”
“Really?” Patsy was surprised. She liked Elizabeth a lot, but everyone did. She had no idea the other woman had been watching her closely enough to notice. “May I see the letter?”
Elizabeth waved her to the couch. “Sit! I’ll find it!” She turned and saw Bernard hovering at the door. “Tea and cookies?”
He nodded. “Yes, my love.”
Elizabeth blushed slightly as he hurried away, before she turned to the stack of papers on her desk, digging through them until she found something. “Here. This is the one. I think Dr. Hardy would be perfect for you.”
“Doctor?” Patsy held out her hand for the letter Elizabeth was offering her. She looked down and smiled at the sloppy handwriting. She’d never known a doctor to write legibly.
She read through it twice, her lips pursed in thought. “He does sound like he’d be right for me. Do you think he’d accept Emily?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “He didn’t mention children either way, and usually that means he won’t mind. Write to him, and we’ll see.”
“How long does this process usually take?”
“Not as long as it used to! It’ll take seven to ten days to arrive in South Dakota, and then the same amount of time for it to come back. If he receives the letter and responds the day it arrives in South Dakota, it could be as short as two or three weeks to have a response.”
“All right. I’ll send him a letter and see what he thinks. I’m nervous, but I think it’s time Emily had a father again, and I’ve been working too hard. I need a man who’s able to support Emily and me.”
“I think Dr. Hardy is just the man you’re looking for.” Elizabeth smiled as Bernard came in with cookies and tea. “Would you like to join us? Patsy has chosen her letter.”
Bernard shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your tea. You ladies enjoy, and I’ll be off to the post office as soon as you’ve crafted your response, Mrs. Lawrence.”
Elizabeth handed Patsy a pen and paper before she poured the tea and offered the plate of cookies. “Just write what feels natural. Make sure you don’t lie or make any embellishments. I think you’re exactly what the good doctor needs, whether he knows it yet or not.”
Patsy smiled at that. “I will do my very best.”
*****
Wesley looked up from his desk where he was making notes on a patient’s chart. He’d found, at least for him, careful record-keeping is what made his practice less chaotic. “Percival. What can I do for you?” Percival was the owner of the general store across the street from Wesley’s office and home, and the postmaster for the town.
“You have a letter from Massachusetts. Thought you might want it right away, since you don’t often get letters from back East.”
Wesley smiled, holding out his hand for the letter. He received letters from back East frequently, as the other man knew, so he wasn’t sure why Percival was there. He took it and frowned at the address for a moment, before his eyes widened. He hadn’t expected a reply from the matchmaker he’d written to quite so quickly. “Thank you.”
Percival stood over him, obviously interested in what the letter had to say. Wesley refused to open it in front of the busybody. Percival and his wife, Dorothy Ann, were the biggest gossips in town. Well, Percival gathered the information while Dorothy Ann spread it around. They made quite a team.
“Is there something else you needed, Percival?”
The older man frowned, shaking his head as he walked out the door. He obviously wasn’t happy with being dismissed, but Wesley didn’t much care. He wanted to read his letter in peace.
Dear Dr. Hardy,
I’m a twenty-seven-year-old widow with a seven-year-old daughter named Emily. I have red hair and green eyes from my Irish mother’s side of the family. My husband passed away five years ago, and I have been supporting my daughter and myself by working as a midwife. I love the idea of moving out West.
I think you sound like you would be a good husband for me, and a good father for my little girl. I’m not sure if you’re willing to accept a wife who has a child, and I will understand if you are not. I have always enjoyed cooking, and I am willing to clean as much as the next woman. Please consider my daughter and me. We would be willing to leave soon.
Yours,
Patsy Lawrence
Wesley read her letter again and drew a pen and paper to him. He hadn’t given a thought to the idea of a woman with a child answering his letter, but he wouldn’t be opposed to a little girl. He smiled as he thought of a delicate little girl who sat and played with dolls and drank tea with her mother. Why, being surrounded by all that feminine beauty would be a true joy for him.
He quickly penned a letter and walked across the street to buy two train tickets. He would be thrilled to have a wife. It was all that his life was lacking.
Chapter Two
When Patsy stepped off the train with Emily’s hand in hers, she looked around the area, hoping Wesley had remembered they were arriving today. She had to keep reminding herself that she would call him Wesley, not Dr. Hardy. A wife rarely used her husband’s title unless she was odd. Patsy was odd, of course, but she wasn’t that odd.
Finally, she spotted a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, who was well-dressed, standing off to the edge of the platform. She raised a hand in a wave,
hoping she wasn’t being too forward.
The man nodded to her and slowly made his way over to where she stood with Emily. As he did, she glanced down at Emily, making certain her daughter looked her best. The girl was so tired after over a week of travel that she hadn’t even complained when Patsy had forced her into her Sunday dress and put a bow in her hair at the last stop. Very unusual for Emily.
When the man made his way to her, she smiled. “Please tell me you’re Dr. Hardy?”
He nodded. “Yes, I am. And you’re Patsy? And this lovely little girl must be Emily?” He noticed that Emily was clinging to her mother’s hand and trying to disappear behind her skirts—just the kind of behavior he’d expect from a ladylike girl.
“Yes, I’m Patsy. It’s nice to meet you.” She had her waist-length red hair pulled into a bun atop her head. She’d thought about wearing it down, because of his comment in his initial letter about preferring redheads, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“I’ve arranged with the pastor that we will be marrying immediately upon arriving in Butterfly Meadows. Is that all right with you?”
Patsy nodded. “I wouldn’t have felt that I could spend the night under the same roof with you otherwise.”
He nodded. “That’s understandable. It’s a thirty-minute drive to my town by buggy. Looks like Emily needs to nap the whole way.”
She looked down at her daughter with a smile. “It’s been a long trip. She’s never been confined on a train this way, and it’s been hard on her.”
Wesley was a little surprised at that. He could understand a boy not wanting to be confined on a train, because boys were active and boisterous. Not sweet little girls. “Well, after a good night’s rest, I’m sure she’ll be ready to face the world again.” He took her bags from her. “Is there more?”
She nodded. “We put two trunks in the baggage compartment.” She pointed to the corner of the platform. She and Emily were the only people who had gotten off at the small station.
Mail Order Midwife (Brides of Beckham Book 18) Page 1