by Zina Abbott
Andrea inhaled. Maybe she would live in one of the houses, but perhaps not. If she did, it wouldn’t be for long, only until the man who married her got title to his house and she filed for an annulment.
Royce continued. “The street we are on is Telegraph Street. Even though it is the same street the train terminal is on, we didn’t want to name it Terminal Street. We don’t want to give folks the impression this town is terminal—you know, that it’s dying.”
A few of the brides giggled at the play on words. It took Andrea a moment to get the joke before she smiled.
Royce continued, giving Andrea the impression he was a natural at being a drummer. “Jubilee Springs is anything but dying. It is growing and prospering, just like the Prosperity Mine my brother and I own. And you ladies will now be part of it. Now, we won’t go there, but behind us you will find the Radcliff Sawmill that provides the lumber for this town and the surrounding area. You will also find the sheriff’s office, housing and…ah…services that cater to the single male population in town. Off to our right just as we get started you will see the River Valley Inn. We will be hosting a dinner and community dance there Saturday night, which I hope you ladies find enjoyable and helpful in choosing your grooms.”
Royce started his surrey forward, and the one Andrea rode in followed. They stopped at an intersection. Royce once again turned in his seat. “Off to your right is our brewery and ice company. To the left is our livery and we just passed our wheelwright and mechanics shop which we rely on to keep our wagons in good working order.”
He paused to give the brides a chance to gawk at their surroundings. Andrea looked over at Catherine and felt grateful her friend either kept quiet or worked at keeping the kitten settled down during their tour.
Royce resumed his speech. “This road we will be turning left on is Schoolhouse Road, which was named that for reasons that should become obvious as you gaze at our beautiful two story brick school your future children will attend. If we were to turn right, we would cross the river to your new homes. Instead, we will turn left. You will see the community park on the right where we will hold the picnic after church on Sunday, and where we will hold the Independence Day picnic and celebration including fireworks on Monday. Of course, some of you may be married by then and be doing your own celebrating and setting off your own fireworks with your new husbands by then.”
In the silence that followed, Lizett’s scolding voice reached clear back to where Andrea and Catherine sat. “Mr. Bainbridge, really! Let’s keep our discussion on the sites about town for the time being, please. Remember, the contract guarantees these ladies have a month to become accustomed to their new husbands before they are to be expected to fulfill all their ‘wifely duties.’”
Royce cleared his throat. “Well, yes. Forgive me, ladies, Mrs. Millard is correct about the terms of your contract. As you have witnessed, I am more used to working with men like your future husbands than with the fairer sex. And, like I said, most of them are quite anxious to claim you for their brides.”
Andrea felt a whoosh of relief escape her. She had a month before the man she married expected her to join him in his bed. She would insist on taking that full month. Surely he could get title to his house so she could arrange for an annulment within a month.
Royce continued his travelogue, bringing Andrea back to the present. “Now, ahead of us we will come to the intersection of Main Street. On our right across from the park to the south will be the parking area for the Community Church for those who are Protestant. However, we will turn left into the main business district in town. This is where you will find the boarding house where you will be staying these first few nights, the mercantile, a bakery, a restaurant I understand is coming soon, the butcher shop, and a host of other services. Also, at the east end you will find the Grand Army of the Republic hall, and the Arkansas Valley Bank, which is owned by our very own mayor, Gerald Shumaker.”
The surreys traveled slowly down the street, allowing the women to study the businesses available to them in their new home town.
Andrea felt a longing build in her. She had always lived on the cattle ranch and had enjoyed the wide open spaces of the range. However, the times her pa had allowed her to come into town had been a genuine treat. Jubilee Springs seemed like a dreamland to her. She knew once her marriage was annulled she would no longer be welcome in town. Somehow she would need to find a way to earn the funds to leave and find a home elsewhere. However, she already realized she would regret the need to leave Jubilee Springs behind.
Catherine nudged Andrea. “Did you see that, Andrea? There’s a bakery across from the boarding house where we’ll be staying. I wonder what kind of sweet rolls they sell. I can hardly wait to find out.”
Eyebrows raised, Andrea turned to her friend. Ever since her ma had passed, she had made all the bread for her pa and his hands, plus any pies and cakes she served up for supper. Sometimes on Sunday mornings when she wanted to get free long enough to attend church she made cinnamon rolls. It had never occurred to her to buy baked goods from a store.
Royce’s voice once again captured their attention as the surreys came to a stop. “On the left is the bank I mentioned. On the right is the Masonic Hall, if your future husband is of that persuasion. There are some offices on the first floor. Ahead of us is River Road. Jubilee Springs is built in the bend of the river, you see. To the north we mostly have private homes that back up to the Arkansas River, plus going that direction leads to the sheriff’s office and…well, we already discussed what else. To the right are larger lots backing up to the river, the first of which on the southeast corner of Main Street and River Road will be the Shumaker’s impressive home. We will turn right and go down to the Catholic Church and cemetery. For those who may be Catholic, we are grateful to have a meetinghouse in town. Unfortunately, Fr. O’Nalley is a circuit priest and is only here on the first Sunday of the month. So, if you wish a Catholic wedding, you need to make your choice by Sunday.”
The caravan reached the corner with the small whitewashed clapboard church and its adjoining cemetery. The surreys once again stopped. “Ladies, we are turning on Church Street, named such for obvious reasons, especially once you notice the proximity of the Community Church, the Protestant cemetery and Masonic cemetery at the other end of the block. You will see private homes on the south side of the street. We also have a variety of small businesses on the north side of the street, including a seamstress, our town doctor, our furniture builder who also provides mortuary and casket services. Once we reach the next corner, we will turn right on Schoolhouse Road again, and our last stop will be the Howard Boarding House on the corner of Main and Schoolhouse, run by your hosts, Daniel and Clara Howard. There you will have a few hours to rest before the opportunity to enjoy one of Clara Howard’s renowned suppers. Afterwards, you will be taken to the church and joined by the ten miners from whom you will choose your future husbands.”
As the surreys traveled down Church Street, Andrea noted that the businesses on this road were smaller. Also, most of the homes on the south side of the street were more humble than the ones she had seen on the lots that backed up to the river on River Road. She knew if she resided in town, this was the street on which she would be most comfortable living.
Andrea studied with interest the Community Church. It also was painted white, and larger than the Catholic Church. This was where she would be attending each Sunday. If she had her bearings right, all she needed to do was walk from the company house across the river and down Schoolhouse Road for several blocks to get there. Except, once she told her future husband it would be a marriage in name only, he might not let her stay in the house with him. She hoped he would let her sleep in the front room. That way, she could clean and cook for him as long as she was there.
Soon the surreys stopped in front of the boarding house. Royce Bainbridge secured the brake and climbed down to the ground, his actions mimicked by the driver of the second surrey. “This is where I l
eave you for the time being, ladies. My man on the buckboard has already delivered your belongings, and your trunks should be in your rooms. Enjoy settling in and we will see you later after supper.”
The brides walked towards each other as if drawn by a magnet. Andrea looked around at the smiles and heard the excited giggles as several anticipated they would soon be receiving the first glimpse of the men who would be their future husbands. She wondered if she was the only one whose insides were twisted into knots of dread.
.
.
.
.
CHAPTER 6
~o0o~
Aaron studied the knot and the ends of his neckerchief hanging down over his collar. He howled his frustration as he pulled apart the knot and flung the piece of fabric across the room. How hard could it be? He tied a bandanna around his neck every morning before heading to the mine, relying on the cotton fabric to help keep the sweat from his head from rolling down his back, not to mention the cloth captured some of the dust that was a constant when it came to hard rock mining.
Aaron rolled his eyes at the knock on his door. He knew who stood on the other side.
Desi Brink’s voice sounded through the wood. “Aaron? Son, is everything all right?”
Aaron sighed in resignation as he turned and opened the door. “Everything’s fine, Ma. For some reason I can’t get the knot in my neckerchief to lay smooth.”
Desi offered a knowing smile. “You’re just nervous about tonight. Here, hand it to me and let me see what I can do. After all, I tie your father’s ties more often than he does.”
Aaron retrieved the cloth and handed to her. “I’m not nervous, Ma. I just don’t want to go. You know I hate these social things. What do I know about parlor games?”
Desi centered the fabric around her son’s neck and checked to make sure both ends were the same distance from the back. “All those games do is serve as an ice-breaker, a way to interact without being put on the spot over something too personal to share with someone you don’t know well enough yet. Just listen and follow directions. You’ll be fine.”
“You know I’d rather stay home and read a book.”
Desi looked up into Aaron’s face. “Yes, but that won’t help you find a nice woman to marry. You can read again once you’re wed. Not all the time, of course. I expect grandchildren one of these first years.”
Aaron shook his head. “Ma. You have me married with a passel of children, and I haven’t even met a woman who appeals to me.”
“But, didn’t you say you were writing to two good prospects?”
“Yes, but so are Stanley and Harold. They’re writing to one of the women, plus I think Nathan Brink is writing to the other. How do I know if one of women is right for me? For one thing, the word around town is, there were only five women who showed up today. That means I only have a fifty-fifty chance of convincing one of them I would make a good husband.”
Desi shrugged. “If you don’t find her this weekend, there will be more coming. You have the contract and the house.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to end up with someone unsuitable—someone who is giggly and doesn’t have a brain in her head, or someone who talks constantly. I don’t expect my wife to be the most beautiful female in the world, but I hope what I have to choose from aren’t uglier than a toad.”
“Son, you’re worrying about things you don’t even know exist.” Desi patted the bandanna with its perfect square knot and tails that draped evenly and smoothly against Aaron’s open collar. “You look handsome, Son, even if I am a little prejudiced. You’ll have your pick of the ladies. Now, go and have fun. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t stop worrying, Ma.”
“Then just go. I’ll be there in a little while to help the pastor’s wife with the refreshments.”
At the church, Aaron did his best to stand back in the shadows, only allowing himself to be drawn into the silliness of the parlor games when he could not gracefully avoid it. He wondered how these other men he worked with could be so good-natured about making idiots of themselves to impress all these women.
There was no doubt in Aaron’s mind—some of these women were very attractive. One named Aurelia was quite a looker. From her clothes, he guessed she came from money. He wondered what her story was. She must be in some kind of trouble if she had to resort to hiring a bridal agency to find her a husband. She had an attitude about her, too, that rankled. He decided to stay away from her, which was no problem since she had more than her share of admirers.
Aaron felt relieved that most of the women didn’t look too young, like they were sixteen and just out of the schoolroom. Although he knew there were a lot of successful marriages in couples where the husbands were almost old enough to be their wives’ father, he didn’t want that. At twenty-nine, he just as soon have a wife that was a little more mature.
Aaron considered Ellen, tall, and not overly pretty. However, there was some kind of guarantee between her and Tyler, so he dismissed her as a possibility from his mind. As for Catherine, the cute blonde with the ready smile, she seemed to be drawn to Harold. If the attraction was all on Harold’s part, he would go up against the man if he decided he wanted to get to know Catherine better. However, even though she had written to him, and been polite once they met face-to-face, it was obvious to Aaron he was not her preference.
Aaron glanced over barely in time to see out of the corner of his eye another young woman watching him. She quickly looked down at her feet and used her index finger to pick at a hangnail on her thumb. The quiet, almost mousy-looking woman who had been introduced as Andrea, if he remembered correctly, was a wild card. No one knew much about her. She hadn’t been writing to any of the miners, so no gossip or speculation about her had filtered through the conversations and bragging of the other men writing to prospective brides. The explanation had been she had signed up too late to correspond, but based on this graphology science Mrs. Millard put so much stock in, she would be a good match for either Harold or Stanley.
Aaron took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Maybe he should wait for Miss Delia Brownlee, the other woman to whom he had been writing, but who did not come with this first group of brides.
Aaron had barely made his decision to duck out of the church, using as his excuse that he was waiting to meet Miss Brownlee, when he felt someone grab his arm. He looked down into the all-seeing eyes of the pastor’s wife.
“Come. Mr. Brinks, I need you for this next game. It’s called three questions. I want you to be the first to think in your mind about one of your favorite activities—make sure it is something appropriate to share with our guests—and they will ask three questions before they guess what it is. The first to make the correct guess will escort you to the refreshment table.”
Aaron sucked in his breath, but sat down on the chair she directed him towards. He hated to be the center of attention like this. However, he would suffer through this one game, eat a plate of cake, and then he would go.
Minna Alwin explained the rules to those gathered and then the questions began.
“Do you do it indoors or outdoors?”
“Remember, it must be a yes or no answer.”
“Oh. Your favorite thing to do, do you do it outdoors?”
Aaron stared Aurelia who asked the question. How was he to answer? He enjoyed reading anywhere, indoors or outdoors.”
“It could be a yes.”
Catherine asked the next question. “Could be. Then, do you do this activity indoors?”
His answer came quicker this time. “Yes.”
Ellen bit her lip as she thought. “Do you use some sort of tool to perform this activity?”
Aaron sighed. Would these ladies consider a book a tool? “No.”
Minna stepped in front of the women. “All right, ladies. Any guesses? I’ll allow three guesses from you before you can ask three more questions.”
“Sleep?” Catherine laughed at her own joke.
Aaron sm
iled. Yes, he did enjoy sleeping, especially after a long day at the mine. However, he didn’t consider it an activity, let alone his favorite activity. “No.”
“I can’t see you preferring to do any household chores as your favorite activity.”
Minna cut Aurelia off. “No speculation, ladies. Make a guess or hold your thoughts.”
“Sit around and stare into the air?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. That question had come from Lizett, the chaperone. She looked around defensively. “What? Don’t I get to be escorted to the refreshment table by a handsome man? If that wasn’t the right answer, then one of you needs to come up with a better one.”
Aaron looked up just in time to see Andrea study him with her head canted to one side. Her voice was so soft, he almost didn’t hear her.
“Do you read?”
How had she guessed? Aaron studied the young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. How did he first consider her appearance as mousy—just because she was so quiet and unassuming? She was no flashy beauty like Aurelia, but beneath her tan she had beautiful clear skin that set off her grey eyes—eyes that revealed an intelligence and capacity for insight he often didn’t see in a woman.
Aaron glanced around and realized everyone in the room waited for his answer. “Yes. Reading is my favorite activity.”
Amidst the exclamations and teasing, which Aaron noticed prompted Andrea to turn pink with embarrassment and shrink into herself, he rose and walked over. he offered the crook of his elbow to her. “Miss—Andrea, is it?—may I please escort you to the refreshment table?”