Lukas scrubbed at his face as if it burned. "You can't tell! Stop kissing me!"
Jakob laughed. "Someday you'll want kisses from all the girls."
"Maybe I will. But not today! And not from my frog-mutter!" Lukas stomped out of the kitchen. "Squirt!"
Bobbie grinned at Jakob. "He likes me."
"Who wouldn't?"
She went back to the pile of potatoes she'd started peeling earlier. "Do you think I should serve sauerkraut? I have some in the basement just in case."
"No! I would feel the need to eat it."
She laughed. "What if your brother's wife likes sauerkraut and tells me I'm a terrible German wife?"
"She won't. He said she's Irish."
"Oh, my best friend was an Irishwoman." She sighed. "You know what, I'm feeling terribly nostalgic today. I think once I have everything under control in the kitchen, I'm going to go and write a letter to Sarah. I miss her so."
"That sounds like a good plan. Do you have all the presents wrapped for tomorrow morning?" His brother and his new wife were going to spend the night in their spare room that night, and stay for Christmas morning.
Bobbie loved the idea of having company, but she was nervous about meeting her new sister-in-law. She wanted to become friends with the girl, but it was so hard to know what she would be like when even Jakob had barely met her.
"I do have everything ready. I even have a new recipe I'm going to try for breakfast in the morning."
"That'll be nice. Where did you get it?" He fully expected her to say it came from Sarah, because her friend was always sending her new recipes to try.
"My new friend Bertha from the train. She came over a few days ago, and she gave me several new recipes to try."
"Oh good. I'm glad you got to know her. I've met her once or twice, but don't feel like I know her well at all. Maybe she can teach you to cook German food like a good wife should."
She made a face at him. "There's actually something I wanted to talk to you about before our Christmas company arrives."
"We're not getting any more pets!" They already had Dog-mutter, Squirt, and they'd just gotten two new bunnies in a pen in the back. He felt like his whole world was being overrun by animals.
"No, no more pets for now. But how about something small and new to love anyway?"
He frowned at her for a moment, and then his face lit up in understanding. "You're having a baby?"
She nodded, grinning. "I saw the doctor just yesterday. I wanted it to be a Christmas surprise, and I was going to tell you tomorrow morning, but I decided I should tell you when we don't have guests in the house."
He laughed. "That might be for the best." His gaze dropped to her stomach. "When?"
"The doctors says it will be around the first of September. I hope it's a girl this time."
"You don't like boys?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's not it and you know it! We already have two boys, and I'd like a girl. I want to teach her to cook and sew. I want to make her frilly dresses to wear. I'd be happy with a boy, but a girl would thrill me."
He nodded. "I can't imagine having a girl, but after two boys, I wouldn't complain." He grabbed her to him and hugged her tightly. "Either way, I'm going to be the happiest man alive, and that's going to be one lucky baby."
"Because it has you for a father?"
He laughed. "I was thinking of who its mother would be."
While she waited for her new brother-in-law and his bride, Bobbie removed the letters she'd been saving from the pocket of her apron. Every letter she'd received during the month of December, she had saved to read on Christmas. It would feel as if she and her friends were together, and she would miss them less. She hoped.
She pulled out the first one from Hope, who had gone to New Jersey to marry.
Dear Roberta,
Your letter was most welcome. I can’t believe how much I miss our days at the mill. The work was hard, but the friendships were precious to me, and I think about you and the others often.
My new home here in New Jersey isn’t at all what I expected. I had planned for a small, modest home with a flower bed and maybe a cow. Instead, Hazelbrook is a sprawling estate, spread over several acres. I go on walks nearly every afternoon and still haven’t seen all of it.
Mr. Edwards, the man I’m to marry, is a curious sort. At times, he’s serious, and at others, he shows a good sense of humor. I’m not sure what to make of him most of the time. We aren’t married yet because he says he wants to be sure I’m truly happy here first. He seems to doubt that I could actually be happy here, but that’s quite silly. It’s a lovely home, and I have no doubt that we’ll get along.
The child I care for, Addie, is a dear little thing, bright and full of curiosity. Her education has been neglected, mismanaged by governesses who thought her stupid, but we’ll soon get that set to rights.
I’ll write again when I know my wedding date. I’m so glad for you—you always have been talented at business, and I know you’ll be successful in whatever endeavor you undertake.
Yours,
Hope
Bobbie's initial plan had been to read them throughout the holidays, but after reading Hope's she couldn't wait. She wanted to read more and more. Her next letter was from Constance, who had never said much. Bobbie said a silent prayer for each friend as she went through their letters.
Dear Roberta,
I wanted to thank you for helping me find myself. Oh, I know you probably don’t remember me. I hid in the shadows and was practically afraid of my own, but when I came by to get the Groom’s Gazette, you told me something that helped me change.
You said, “You’ll be fine, Constance. The Good Lord put a spark of courage in everyone. I hope you find yours.”
I am happy to tell you that I found my courage on a sailing vessel named Journeys End. The captain had told me he named the ship after Shakespeare’s line – Journeys end in lovers meeting. I am happy to say that I married Drake Ferris. He loves me, and I couldn’t be happier.
Sincerely,
Constance Penny Ferris
P.S. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I haven’t told Drake yet, but I believe we are expecting a little one next year.
The letter from her friend Patience had her laughing so hard, the boys came to check on her, and Squirt buried his face on her lap as if to comfort her.
November 15th, 1890
Dear Roberta,
Since you’ve been gone, Mercy and I have dearly missed your precious friendship and our lively Sunday afternoon literary discussions. Neither I nor my sister has been successful at finding a suitable position since the factory burned. As when you were here, none of the other factories are hiring. Worse, we’ve made a muddle of each job we found. I’d say through no fault of ours, but Papa and Mama feel otherwise. In fact, we were almost sued—twice.
Mercy secured a job as a housemaid at the home of the Millard Lamptons. Mrs. Lampton was kind enough, but Mr. Lampton must view young women in his employ for his personal amusement. The third week she was there, he backed Mercy into a corner with lecherous intentions. She grasped a fireplace poker and told him to keep his distance. Apparently, he thought she was playing a game and lunged for her. She hit him and broke his arm. Papa had to exert all his powers of persuasion to convince the odious man the notoriety of a lawsuit would not show him to good advantage.
Do you remember the Harmon’s large mansion on Wilcox Street? I found a job there as a maid and enjoyed working in such lovely surroundings. They have a luxurious bathing room (the first I’d seen), but also keep a chamber pot under the bed for nighttime use. One would think Mr. Harmon would have better judgment than to grab my derriere when I had the soiled container in hand, but that would not be true. When he accosted me, I jumped and turned to face him. He reached for other parts of my person (use your imagination, Bobbie). I did warn him, but he seemed to feel “no” was only a tease that meant “yes”. He learned a valuable lesson when I emptied the con
tents of the chamber pot over his head. You would have laughed to see him wearing the ceramic container on his head and the vessel’s decoration of a large pink rose where his nose would be. Unfortunately, no one else saw the humor. Once again, Papa had to reason with a former employer who threatened to sue our family. Thankfully, the lawsuit did not come to pass.
Other positions ended similar to those I mentioned above but with less disastrous results. Perhaps Mercy and I are suited only to work in a factory with other women who do not make rude advances. We don’t appear to be navigating our way through the world of commerce in good order, but we feel certain we can find suitable jobs and help our parents save to someday educate our younger brothers at a university. Tomorrow is Monday, and we will once again make the tedious rounds looking for employment.
Mercy and I admire your bravery for accepting a groom sight-unseen. We often speculate about your situation. Please write and let us know how your life has changed and whether or not you’re happy. We hope your groom turned out to be Prince Charming and that you have the happiness you deserve.
Fondly,
Your friend, Patience Eaton
She chose a letter from Poppy next, excited to hear from her former roommate.
My dearest Roberta,
Oh, how I’ve missed you, my dear friend! I must thank you for thrusting that copy of The Groom’s Gazette into my hands before you left Lawrence. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be sitting in a fine hotel room in Seattle, waiting to set sail in the morning for…Alaska! You know better than anyone my fascination with the great wild north because you gave me a scrapbook for all my clippings.
In the paper you handed me that day, I found a match that seems perfect for me. Matthew Turner is a respected doctor who will be hanging out his shingle in Sitka. He is pleasant enough, though I sense there’s much more to him than meets the eye. I have already lined up work for myself, so you needn’t worry about my welfare, though I suspect you will anyway.
I will write again when I am settled so please continue to send letters to my mother’s address. I’m desperate to hear news from my sweet Roberta!
Love always, Poppy
The next letter was from one of the sweet ladies who worked with her at the factory.
Mary, Branna, Fiona, Keela, Thomas, and Raymond.
Dear Roberta,
I hope this letter finds you well and happy. I have reached my new home in Flat Rock Point, Arkansas, and married my groom, Mr. Griffin Benning. He seems kind, loving, even tempered and has a sense of humor. He has two daughters, Josie and Coral, who I will meet when their grandparents bring them from Little Rock in about three weeks. If they are as lovely as their names, I feel we’ll get along very well.
He has a log home that he built himself and he appears to be quite a talented craftsman. There is much for me to learn here and I send you my sincerest thank you for recommending Aunt Jennie’s Household Bible. I feel that Aunt Jennie will be my salvation.
Are you still bothered by remembrances of the fire? I confess I have had a few nightmares. Please write to me to let me know how you are getting along, as I am most interested in your wellbeing.
Most Sincerely,
Laurel
She smiled as she looked at who the last letter was from. Victoria, the girl who'd helped all of them financially after the fire, had promised to keep in touch, but this was the first letter she'd received.
December 15, 1890
My dear friend,
You have been on my mind ever since I arrived in Kansas to meet my shopkeeper. Please write and tell me all about your adventures in Wisconsin. Have you milked any cows yet? Do they bite? You see my appalling ignorance about farms, so you must educate me.
What have you heard from the other women who worked at the factory? Do you know how many of them have found husbands? I hope the fund I set up for them was enough to provide sufficient aid. I know you worry about them, as do I.
Oh, Roberta, I’m so thankful we met, even if it was under adverse conditions. The fire at the factory destroyed your place of work, but because of your courage and persistence, it didn’t destroy lives. Your dedication to the other workers and your willingness to step out into the unknown inspired us all to pursue a new life and learn to hope again. You did me the greatest service when you offered me your copy of the Groom’s Gazette. I was at wit’s end about what to do after the terrible scandal. Had you not been so kind, I would never have met my Mr. O’Brien.
He looks very much like the photograph I showed you, only more handsome in person, with melting dark eyes and black wavy hair. It is puzzling, though, there are times I wonder whether the man who wrote to me is the same one I met. Until recently, he hasn’t acted like it. At first, I feared he’d taken a dislike to me. Lately, he’s been much more pleasant, more like my romantic suitor.
I’m delighted to say I’ll soon no longer be a Lowell from Boston. I’ll be Mrs. O’Brien from Fort Scott, Kansas. We’re to be wed on Christmas Eve. My father will surely disinherit me once he learns I married an Irish Catholic shopkeeper. But money and status don’t make one happy. Just look at him. He’s been a grouch for as long as I can remember.
Well, I must be off now and help Mr. O’Brien prepare the store for opening.
With fondest regards,
Victoria Lawrence Lowell
P.S. Mr. O’Brien’s six-year-old daughter, Fannie hasn’t spoken a word for nearly two years, not since her mother deserted them. Whether she will talk again remains to be seen. David’s sister, Maggie, will leave after Christmas for a teaching job in Kansas City. I know David and Fannie will miss her terribly. I shall miss her, too. She’s been more of a sister to me than Louisa ever was.
As Roberta closed Victoria's letter, the last of them all, she sighed. She was happy for her friends. Well, happy for the ones who had found happiness with their new husbands. She bowed her head a said a quick prayer for all of them, and for Fannie, Victoria's future step-daughter.
She would write Sarah that day, and she would spend a couple of hours writing all of the others on the day after Christmas. She hoped Sarah was as happy as she was. Roberta wondered if her friend was spending Christmas alone with her husband or if they had family to see. Wherever she was, Roberta prayed for her happiness.
If you enjoyed reading this book, there are forty-nine other books in the series. Find out about the rest of the American Mail-Order Brides here.
Interested in reading about Sarah, Roberta's best friend? Sarah, Bride of Minnesota will be out on December 20th.
For other books by Kirsten Osbourne, click here.
Roberta: Bride of Wisconsin (American Mail-Order Bride 30) Page 11