Mail Order Bride: Christy

by Vivi Holt

  “Christy, dear,” she said quickly, spinning the young woman around so that she was facing away from the notice board. “My back is aching a little — could you go and fetch the rest of the ingredients while I speak with the clerk for a moment.”

  “Of course, Meredith.” Christy beamed. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  Meredith turned back to face the noticeboard. Yes, she had seen right ― there in big bold letters were the words Mail Order Brides Wanted. Meredith inched closer so she could read the smaller text with her failing eyesight. She'd forgotten to wear her spectacles, and it was becoming so that she couldn't read a line without them these days. She huffed in frustration, and squinted at the writing. The flyer was advertising an information night which was to run the coming Tuesday. It was encouraging local, young women to come along and learn more.

  It seemed that destiny had placed the notice right there for Meredith to see. Why, this could be just the thing to get Christy out of danger! Meredith’s eyes widened as she read the rest of the note. There were men out West who wanted brides right away. Christy could be one of them. She’s pretty enough to make any man happy! Meredith glanced over her shoulder and made sure that Christy was still busy fetching the ingredients. Meredith took one of the flyers and buried it in her pocket. I’ll wait for the right moment, then tell Christy about it. But I think that our prayers may have been answered!

  That afternoon, as Christy helped Meredith bake an orange cake for dessert, Meredith, asked, as casually as she could manage.

  "Christy, my dear, have you thought about what you might do with yourself if your relatives don't reply to your correspondence?"

  Christy sifted the flour into the bowl. “Mama wanted me to go to teacher’s college. But I’m not sure that’s what I truly want. I suppose I could do that, though. Why?”

  “Christy you’re grown up now ― old enough to make decisions for yourself.”

  “I know, I’m nineteen years old ― but I feel like I’m neither a girl nor a woman. I don't want to be on my own, but I'm really too old for anyone to take me in as their own and yet I feel as though I'm still too young to be able to support myself.”

  Meredith replied to the girl gently. “You’re old enough to marry, my dear.”

  Christy’s eyes stretched wide. “Marry? Meredith, who would I marry? I’ve never even kissed a man before. I’m not ready to marry one! Besides, I don't even know any men, other than Morty and the pastor at church. I mean I see men, and I say 'good day' to them, but I don’t really know any, not like that.” Christy looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushing red.

  Meredith straightened up and dusted the flour from her hands. “You only need to know one, Christy. And you just haven’t met the right one yet, that's all.”

  “Do you think I will find someone someday, Meredith?"

  "Of course you will, my dear." Meredith nodded her head. “I know for a fact that there are men out there looking to marry a girl as sweet and pretty as you.” She reached into her pocket, took out the flyer and handed it to Christy.

  Christy’s eyes widened again as she read the flyer. “Why Meredith. I could never do such a thing! Marry a man I’ve never met?”

  Meredith’s face turned serious. “Of course, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, my dear. But this might be the best option for you. I’m afraid that none of your family is going to write you. And the men in this program are supposed to be good men. It says here they've all been interviewed and vetted. At least go along to the meeting and talk to this Bonnie lady. She might help to put your mind to ease.”

  Christy nodded. “Okay. I will go to the meeting. But I can’t promise you anything more than that Meredith!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Christy

  Bonnie McCloud was a pretty middle-aged woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. And she was Irish, just like Christy’s Ma. In fact, just a little distance from the church, the woman sounded so much like Mrs. Hancock that Christy stood stock still in the darkness of the street. Her stomach flipped a little as she listened. She needed a few moments to regain her composure. She was already nervous enough about the meeting. Maybe she should turn around and head back to Meredith and Morty's place? Maybe this whole thing was a ridiculous idea. Who marries someone they've never met? Christy sat down on a pile of rocks beside the church gate to think.

  If she didn't do this, what was she going to do? She had no one to turn to, nowhere to go. She could continue the journey to California and become a teacher, but she would still be all alone in the world. Or, she could trust her fate to God's hands and pray that she might be matched up with a good man who could give her a warm and loving home. Christy stood to her feet and dusted off the back of her skirts.

  She walked into the church hall a little late, to hear Bonnie telling the young women sitting around the room on folding chairs about the Mail Order Bride program. Christy hurried over to an empty chair and sat down, smoothing the front of her dress and folding her hands in her lap.

  “The men we match you with are all checked out carefully by our satellite offices. They're each interviewed and have to provide character references from people who know them. These men want to be married, but there aren’t a lot of women out west. Often times in these towns there are no women of marrying age at all! I can assure you that all the men in the program are hardworking, and can provide for a family, and will pay for you to travel out to meet them. Of course, you're free to return to Topeka if you don't wish to go ahead with it once you arrive, but I would encourage you all to give it a good try. We have placed dozens of girls like you throughout the west, and many of them are happily married, raising beautiful families in their new homes. They write to us to tell us how much their new situations suit them, and they are often well pleased with their matches.”

  Christy listened with great interest. She was beginning to believe that maybe this would to be the answer to her prayers after all. A home with a loving husband and a family of her own. Hearing about it stirred a longing deep in her heart that had been buried when her parents had died all those weeks ago. She wiped a few stray tears from beneath her eyes, and stood with the others to pack the folding chairs away.

  The girls who wished to sign up to be brides stood in line in front of Bonnie, who was taking down their details in a ledger. Christy joined the line and, when it was her turn, she signed up for the program. Afterwards Christy spoke to Bonnie in private. She told Bonnie she still had some misgivings about the scheme.

  “The men in the program are thoroughly checked Christy ― the agency makes sure they all have enough money and income to support a family, and they will pay for everything, if that is what you’re worried about.”

  What about love? Christy thought. The agency can do nothing to ensure that I will actually love the man they match me with. What does money mean, if I have no feelings, no attraction, towards the man?

  But Christy didn’t say such things to Bonne. She was embarrassed to talk about such a thing as ‘love’ with the older woman. Bonnie would probably think that Christy was being silly to even think about such things. Shallow perhaps. After all, the way Bonnie had made it sound, marrying was about finding a good match, a man who could provide a good home, and a good life for a woman. And that's what her mother had always told her as well. Christy daren’t ask for anything more than that. Perhaps she wasn’t even supposed to. Her Ma had often told her to get her head out of the clouds, that marriage wasn't like a fairytale, and that she would do well to settle for a good man who could provide for a family.

  So that's what Christy had prayed for over the years, but the things she asked for, even what she prayed for, were quite different to the things that Christy truly wanted. It felt as though a lifetime had passed since the incident on the train, and Christy had needed to do a lot of growing up in the meantime, but she was still that girl who had been watching the fields of flowers passing by the train window, daydreaming about the things she'd left behind
and what was to come. Through it all though, Ma's voice rang out loudly in her memories.

  "Christy, if you can find a man who is honorable, a good provider, and will take care of you, you can't ask for more than that. Love is a luxury that most women can ill afford. Your daydreams will leave you cold and lonely my girl."

  So, the following morning when Christy awoke, she dressed quickly, looking at herself solemnly in the mirror. Then she took a deep breath, ran down the stairs, and said to Meredith, “I’m ready. I'm getting married.”

  ***

  Within three days, everything was organized. Christy had been matched with a man called Brent Taylor, a farmer from Oklahoma. Bonnie gave Christy a letter that Brent had written to greet his future bride. In it he said that he had been lonely even since his fiancée had died three years earlier in a horse riding accident. For the past few years he had been living with his mother, but she had passed on a few months ago leaving him completely alone on the extensive property in Oklahoma that he had inherited from his father.

  So he is an orphan too, Christy thought, at least he will know some of my pain then. We will share that in common.

  He told her he would meet her at the train station with a bunch of daisies on the day arranged for her to arrive. Christy shut her eyes as she folded the letter and placed it in her luggage next to the letter from her Ma.

  “Here my dear,” Meredith said, handing Christy a pile of clothing. “I know they’re not much but these ought to get you by for a little while in your new place.”

  Christy still had the luggage she had brought with her from Philadelphia, but these dresses would give her enough clothing to last a good while in her new home. Christy looked though the pile of dresses. “Thank you Meredith.”

  “Don’t mention it my dear. They belonged to my daughters, and now they’ve found a good second home with you. I know you’ll look after them. Now, let’s get you down to the station.”

  They made it there just in time. Meredith uttered a prayer of thanks out loud that, for once, she’d managed to get to the train platform on time.

  “Thank you for everything,” Christy said, grasping the older woman’s hands in hers. “I shall never forget the kindness you showed me at the worst moment of my life.”

  Meredith wiped away the tears that were spilling down her face as she waved goodbye. Christy stepped onto the train, taking a deep breath to steel herself for the journey ahead. It was her first time on a train since the robbery. She sat down in the first compartment she found, since her legs were threatening to give way beneath her.

  From the platform, Meredith waved again, her heart heavy with the bittersweet feeling of saying goodbye to a girl she’d already grown so fond of, and praying that such an innocent soul could make it on her own in such a tough world.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brent

  On most days, Brent Taylor would have been off somewhere on the farm, tending to the daily business involved in running a property that bred horses and reared and sold beef cattle. But this particular day was different. It was a day for quiet solitude. On this day every year, Brent took a break from the work that would normally consume his waking hours, and spent time alone remembering the past, and thinking about what might have been.

  On this particular day, Brent led his horse to the empty field behind the farmhouse and tied his horse to a fence post. Then he took off his broad-brimmed, black riding hat and placed it against his chest. A moment’s silence in the spot where Annabelle had died. The place where the thunderstorm had hit, sending her horse on a mad dash across the field where she fell to her death. The dull thud of her head hitting a rock in the field still resounded in Brent's ears whenever he stood in this spot and remembered. Brent closed his eyes and paid his respects one last time. He would never do it again, because tomorrow he was to begin a new life with a new bride and would finally put the past behind him.

  The cry of crows in the distance and the occasional call of the cattle grazing nearby were the only sounds that broke through the silence. Brent gazed around at the bowing heads of seeded grass, swaying to nature's rhythm with the wind that blew across the open field. The brilliant sunshine glanced warmly from the grasses and made his eyes squint against its brightness. He closed his eyes and soaked it all in, allowing himself a moment of heartache as he remembered the love he had lost. The silence of the moment was disturbed by a shrill but familiar voice screeching out his name. Brent opened his eyes and cast a fierce glance over his shoulder.

  His farmhand, a young boy named Kip came running up to him. “Brent! Where have you been?”

  Brent drew in a deep breath. “What are you doing here Kip? I told you I was taking leave today. I asked you to take care of things for me and not to come looking for me.”

  Kip stopped in his tracks, suddenly remembering his boss's request. “Aw, shucks, I’m sorry Brent. I forgot all about it.” Guilt washed over the young boy’s face. “But one of the calves seems awful sick.”

  “You’re more than capable of handling that yourself, Kip.”

  Kip hung his head. “I know, but Brent, can’t you just come up and have a look?”

  Brent turned away. He clenched his jaw. He didn’t like to have to admonish Kip, and on any other day Brent would have been more than happy to help, even on a day off. But today was the last day he had to remember Annabelle, and to honor that memory. He was more than a bit anxious about meeting his new bride tomorrow as well, and had really wanted to take some time to think it all through to be sure he was doing the right thing.

  “Brent is there anything wrong?”

  Kip waited anxiously for an answer.

  “It was three years ago today Kip. Three years ago today that Annabelle had her accident. That's all.”

  The young boy's face turned ashen. “Sorry Brent, I didn't remember that.”

  Brent straightened his jaw. “I know Kip. It’s alright.” He turned back to the boy. “Come on now, you better show me that calf.”

  ***

  The following morning, after a long night tending to the sick calf, Brent awoke early after just a few hours' sleep. But even without the calf, Brent would have had trouble sleeping. For today was the day he was meeting, and marrying, Christy Hancock. He wondered what she would be like, and once again whether or not he was doing the right thing. Everything within him shied away from marrying a woman he'd never met. But that was just the trouble - he never met anyone. Not out here. The only people he ever saw were his married neighbors and their children, or the elderly folks and young families that attended the Baptist church on the outskirts of town, and the men down at the feed supply store. And since he never met any single, young women these days, it made sense for him to have a Mail Order Bride. But still, the whole idea of it made him so nervous his stomach was doing flip flops as he dressed for the day.

  Brent pulled on his best shirt and tie, noticing for the first time how dingy they were in the light. He tried to rub a clean spot on the dusty mirror in his late mother's bedroom to get a better look, but it didn't help the way he felt. He could see that his pants needed mending and his boots should have been cleaned long ago. Too late for that now though. He tramped outside to attach his wagon to his youngest driving horse. The bay horse was a little flighty still, being young, but he had good potential and a sensitive mouth. Brent was sure he'd make a fine driving horse one day. He climbed into the wagon and waved goodbye to Kip. For the second day in a row Brent was trusting the farm to his young farm hand.

  “Take care Kip,” he called out.

  ***

  Kip watched after his master as the wagon trundled down the long driveway towards town. He knew where Brent was headed and Kip was in awe of what Brent was about to do. He was off to marry a woman he had never met. To Kip the idea seemed both brave and crazy at the same time. Kip stood and watched silently as the wagon pulled away. He hoped that Brent’s new wife would be a good and kind woman. That she would be good to Kip as well as to Brent. He sh
ook his head in wonderment at the entire situation and walked off to feed and water the horses.

  ***

  “Come on boy,” Brent said to his horse, turning him onto the main road. As they left the boundary of Brent’s property they passed by the field where Annabelle had perished. Three years, and one day. It was time to move on. And with God’s help, Brent was going to do just that.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Christy

  The train arrived at 10 am and Christy stepped onto the platform with shaky legs. For a moment her hand lingered on the door frame, one part of her wanting to leap back inside the safety of the carriage. But the whistle blew and the person behind Christy hurried her onto the platform. Startled, it took a few moments for Christy to get her footing as her eyes scanned the length of the platform, trying to pick Brent out of the crowd. She knew to look for a man carrying a bunch of daisies, but Christy couldn’t see anyone matching that description.

  Christy's stomach was tied in knots - she was terrified that she would be repulsed by the man she was there to meet. She knew she ought not to think about such things, that she should want a man who was kind and responsible, no matter what he looked like, but still Christy could not quell her fears that she would be repulsed by his features, that she would be forced to live with a man she couldn't abide.

  But as Christy finally caught sight of Brent Taylor, she knew she had nothing to worry about. There he stood, at the end of the platform, a few wilted daisies in his hands, and a look of curiosity on his face. She smiled at him, and he returned the smile, dipping his hat at her politely.

  Christy stared at the man striding towards her on the platform, averting her eyes shyly every time he caught them. He's to be the first man I ever kiss, but will I love him? Christy wondered, gazing at Brent’s soft lips, wondering what it would be like to press hers against them. She wondered if they would kiss at the wedding. She was still hoping for a romantic white wedding with all of the trimmings. Glancing around at the dusty town she wondered if perhaps that dream was a bit far-fetched given the setting. She certainly couldn't have asked for a more handsome groom. His tanned features only accentuated his sparkling blue eyes, and his muscular physique couldn't be hidden beneath the dusty, cowboy clothing he wore. Christy's heart fluttered as he drew near. She wondered how she would even speak to him, let alone kiss him. His eyes seemed to bore into her very soul as though he could see and understand her every thought. She shivered with a mixture of delight and nerves.