A Bride For Finn (The Proxy Brides Book 5)

by Linda Ellen

  Cliff leaned forward and took his ever-present pipe out of his mouth. “You did? What’d she say to that?”

  Finn began sharpening his razor on the strop hanging on the side of the chair and shrugged one shoulder. “She hasn’t replied yet.” Testing the edge with his thumb and finding it satisfactory, he turned to Cyrus and positioned his hands to commence his shave, but flicked a glance at the two old geezers leaning forward in their chairs and mentioned casually, “But she sent me a picture of her.”

  That set them to squawking like three old women. Finn couldn’t help but chuckle as he warned Cyrus not to move if he didn’t want to lose an ear, or maybe part of his nose.

  “Is she a pretty filly?” Charlie asked, but before Finn could answer, the elder sat back in his chair, his old bones challenging the rickety piece of furniture on the amount of creaks and pops they could produce. Reaching into his shirt pocket for his ever-ready bag of tobacco, he began filling his corncob pipe, a familiar far away look in his eyes as he stared straight ahead. Finn knew before the oldster said a word that they were about to hear again the saga of his Cordelia.

  “My Delia was sure a pretty little filly when we married. So young, so sweet and innocent—heck we were both...” he began the habitual reminiscence about the love of his life, now long passed on. Finn figured Charlie to be close to ninety by now, and pretty much all alone—his wife was gone, his sons and daughters old and the grandkids and great-grandkids were leading busy lives in larger, more exciting towns than Brownville, Nebraska. He knew for a fact the old man’s family hardly ever wrote.

  As he worked on Cyrus’ chin and Charlie droned on, Finn let his mind wander a bit to the past two months and the letters he had exchanged with his bride-to-be. He hadn’t spent much time on the other answers he had received to the matrimonial ads he had placed in far away papers. They were women that had said upfront they had no time for religion, women who said they wanted a marriage in name only because they didn’t want children, and one who said she was close to fifty, but had gone ahead and written him just in case he’d change his mind about wanting a younger woman. He’d started to think that maybe all of the good ones had been taken...

  And then he’d received a letter from Charise.

  In her elegant handwriting, she had told about herself, had answered every point in his ad, and had even asked him a few questions. There was just something different about her letter, and it wasn’t just the subtle hint of roses emanating from the paper. For the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on it...but it was almost as if they already knew one another. He knew that was impossible, as she’d never been out of Louisville and he’d never ventured anywhere near it—even during the war. But reading her letter—it was as if her soul reached out and touched his. Like they were destined to meet—and to fall in love.

  He let out a soft snicker as those last few thoughts went through his mind. The three old geezers sitting in his shop would really give him the business if he spoke those thoughts aloud. But dad blast it, it’s how he felt! And with each subsequent letter Charise Willoughby had written him, he felt it more and more.

  Danged if this idea of Sam’s hadn’t been right on the money. Finn somehow knew he had found his future. The only thing left to make sure of it was actually meeting her in person. That would be the deciding factor. If he was drawn to her physically...if she was attracted to him... Then, they could start their new life together.

  He couldn’t wait to receive her reply to his telegram!

  The days passed quickly after Finn received his intended’s reply: Nineteenth is fine STOP Have given job and roommate notice STOP Will be ready and waiting STOP Charise

  Knowing it would take nearly five days by rail, considering all of the stops and the many times he would have to change trains between rail lines along the way east through Iowa, Illinois and Indiana before heading south to Kentucky, Finn set things in motion to leave early on Saturday, the fourteenth. His brother had assured him he would keep an eye on his shop while he was gone.

  Friday evening, Finn headed over to the mill to bid Sam goodbye.

  As he walked in, he saw Sam standing next to his new helper, sixteen-year-old Toby Keller, apparently giving the young man instructions. Finn heard the boy yell over the whir of the water-driven machinery, “Yes, sir!”

  Turning, Sam spotted Finn approaching and he smiled in greeting as he reached over to flip the lever on the saw blade to disengage it from the turbine.

  “All set to go get your lady?” Sam asked with a grin as he reached out to give his brother a friendly slap on the back.

  “Yep. I’ll catch the nine o’clock train in the morning and get to Louisville by noon on the nineteenth—that is, barring any train robberies, derailments, or bridge washouts,” Finn joked.

  Sam chuckled as he slipped his gloves off to swipe at the sweat on his forehead. “Well, let’s hope none of those happen and you have a safe trip...and I hope Miss Charise didn’t actually send a photograph of her roommate instead, but is everything you think she is,” he added with a wink.

  Refusing to allow any negative thoughts to enter his mind regarding his fiancée, Finn merely grunted in answer as he dug into one of his trouser pockets. “Here’s the keys to the shop and the storage shed out back, although there shouldn’t be any reason you’d have to get in there while I’m gone...but just in case,” he explained with a shrug as he reached out and deposited them in his brother’s outstretched palm.

  Sam slipped them into his pocket with an answering nod. “I’ll keep an eye out. But I don’t expect anything will happen while you’re gone...except for all the men in town becoming bewhiskered and shaggy.”

  Finn laughed and shook his head. “What can I say? I-.”

  “Oh no!” a voice shouted from high up over his left shoulder. Both men jerked their attention to the pile of rough logs to the left, just as the large one on top began rolling their way, having been dislodged in error by the clumsy adolescent.

  “Look out!” Finn shouted as he made to pull Sam out of the way of the seven hundred pound log and jump clear of it himself—but in the melee, things went woefully wrong.

  Pain knifed through Finn’s leg just before his world went dark.

  Fighting his way back to consciousness, Finn managed to pry his eyes open in response to his brother’s urging, but immediately wished he hadn’t, as a nearly unbearable strike of pain made itself known in the region of his right leg, and a lesser one—just barely—at the back of his head. He let out an agonized groan.

  “Take it easy, brother,” Sam cautioned as Finn shifted his body to try and escape the unknown cause of his torture. “I’ve sent Toby for Doc Reeves. Try not to move, Finny,” he cautioned, resorting to the affectionate nickname he had used when they were boys. “Your leg’s in a bad way.”

  “Wh...what happened?” Finn stammered and groaned, striving to remember and understand why he was now lying on the sawdust-covered floor of the mill with his right leg in excruciating misery.

  “That stupid kid did the exact opposite of what I told him about making sure the pile of logs was secure for the night,” Sam grumbled. “Because of him, the top log rolled off and gotcha.”

  “Oh...” Finn mumbled, gritting his teeth at the unbelievable pain. “Like you did that time and Pa almost kicked?” he managed to razz his brother concerning a near tragic happening when they were young themselves.

  Sam snorted in agreement. “Yeah, something like that. Only Pa was able to jump out of the way and not get hurt.”

  “Mmmm don’t remind me,” Finn moaned.

  Just then, they both heard a commotion near the door as Doc Reeves came hurrying in, followed by the hapless Toby.

  “Move back a bit, Sam. Let’s see what we have here,” the doctor said and Finn, his eyes shut tight against the agony, felt his brother move out of the doc’s way.

  After a cursory inspection that caused Finn to yell out in pain before clamping his teeth, the doctor determin
ed that they should get him over to his office as quickly and efficiently as they could, so that he could work on him under better conditions.

  Finn barely heard their discussion before once again slipping into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.

  The first thing he sensed as awareness slowly came back was that he was lying on something soft, rather than suffering the added annoyance of sawdust and woodchips digging into his back. Then, he had the sensation that his right leg seemed unusually heavy. He moved his hand downward to investigate.

  “He’s waking up, finally. Good. Good,” the doctor’s voice came from nearby.

  Finn opened his eyes and blinked his sight into focus, seeing not only Doc Reeves, but Sam standing close.

  “What happened?” he croaked, his voice rough.

  The doctor lowered himself into a chair next to the bed and reached to gently turn Finn’s head toward the light as he examined his eyes. “I’m afraid you hit your head rather hard on the floor as you were knocked down, causing some concussion...as well as suffering damage to your right leg—several fractures of the tibia,” he explained as he checked out Finn’s pupils. “The breaks were bad, but none came through the skin. I’ve set them and your leg is now encased in a sturdy cast. You should recover fully in a matter of weeks if you stay off of it and let it heal.”

  Finn shook his head and winced, trying to get up as the memory of his impending trip raked through his mind. “No...I’ve got to go to Louisville...Charise...she’s waiting...” he bit out past the sharp stabbing pain his movements were causing his injured limb.

  Sam’s big hands suddenly clamped on his arms to hold him still as he warned in his most firm big-brother voice, “Little brother, listen to me—don’t try to get up. You’ve got to stay still and let yourself heal. Besides, you’ve got a concussion—right Doc?”

  “But Sam,” Finn argued, raising his head and feeling the room starting to spin. Dropping back onto the pillow, he reached out and gripped the front of his brother’s shirt. “I’ve got to get there. She’s waiting for me. She’s quit her job already...somebody else will scoop her up and take her from me...I’ve got to go...”

  He felt Sam give his arms a squeeze. “Calm down, brother. I’ll go get her and bring her here. Don’t worry.”

  Finn couldn’t seem to make sense of what was happening. Sam would go and get Charise?

  “But...what if she won’t come with you? She thinks we’re getting married in Louisville. She’s made plans...”

  At this, Doc Reeves leaned over so that Finn could see him. He was smiling as if he had a secret. His next words shocked both of the Maynard brothers.

  “Then Sam will marry her by proxy, and bring her back to you.”

  Chapter 3

  C harise woke up early on the nineteenth and immediately experienced butterflies in the region of her stomach.

  Today is my wedding day! Today, I’ll meet Finn and become Mrs. Phineas Maynard.

  Suppressing a girlish giggle, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for Finn’s last letter resting on her nightstand. She had received it just a few days before, and had read it numerous times—he was so sweet, assuring her that he believed God had brought them together and he couldn’t wait to meet her in person. Shyly, he confessed that he hoped she would find his looks pleasant enough to want to view over the breakfast table every morning for the rest of their lives. In it, he had also told her that he would have a blue neckerchief—her favorite color—tied around his right arm to help her identify him on the crowded train platform. Then, he had ended the letter with, “Do you think you’ll enjoy answering to Mrs. Phineas Maynard for the rest of your life?”

  Mrs. Phineas Maynard...I can’t wait!

  She had finished two new outfits, a traveling ensemble to wear on most of the trip, and one to wear for Finn’s first vision of her. The latter was an afternoon dress made of light blue silk, the hue of the summer sky, with royal blue piping that highlighted the square neckline, pointed bodice, ruffled three-quarter sleeves, and the hem, which just barely touched the ground. Although it sported a fashionable bustle, it was a modest one, and she’d chosen not to have the customary three-foot train at the back, as she abhorred the dirt they inevitably collected.

  Finn’s train would be pulling in to Central Station at Seventh and River Road at ten o’clock, and Beth Ann, angel of a friend that she was, had insisted she accompany Charise to the depot. It was, after all, a large, busy, confusing place. Their plan was for she and Finn to meet and if they found one another mutually acceptable, they would take a leisurely walk together to the Hotel Victoria, situated two blocks up and two blocks over from the station, allowing them to spend some time in its comfortable eatery getting to know one another.

  Everything was ready. She’d given her notice at work and the ladies in the alterations department at Fessenden and Stewart had given her a small going away party—sandwiches, punch and cake—during their lunch hour. That had been a nice gesture, and had made up for some of the snide remarks a few of them had made to her since finding out she had put herself on the “auction block” as Hilda Sanders had put it. Charise hadn’t felt the desire to share her main reason—that she couldn’t stand to see that no good Ethan Breckinridge even one more time. No one understood that except Beth Ann.

  Thinking of her best friend and roommate, Charise let out a small sigh. She would miss her terribly, and that thought almost made her want to back out of the deal all together. But, Charise knew she couldn’t do that—Beth Ann had already secured another girl to share the apartment and help with expenses.

  No, there would be no turning back now. Her course was set. Her bags and trunk were packed, and waiting. All that was needed was her groom.

  At precisely 9:30, Charise and Beth Ann walked the four blocks from the apartment to Central Station, and it being a Friday, the depot was congested with people anxious to leave the city for the weekend. June had turned out to be unusually hot and humid, even by Ohio Valley standards. Most wealthy city dwellers kept summer homes outside of the sweltering crowded downtown with its tall brick or stone buildings and cobblestone streets making everything feel even hotter. Those who didn’t have that luxury were trying to escape to cooler areas for a bit of reprieve.

  Charise didn’t blame them one bit; matter of fact, she was happy to be leaving the overcrowded city for a more rural way of life.

  Right on time, the Baltimore & Ohio southbound train pulled in on track four, and within minutes, passengers were coming down the long, narrow platform between the trains. As they stood together, the girls scanned each man walking toward them, looking for Finn’s blue neckerchief. Charise had placed a large, purple feather in her hat to help him spot her. Finally, Beth Ann pointed, “There he is, look.”

  Walking along, carrying a worn carpetbag and wearing a suit that had seen better days and seemed a size or two smaller than it ought to have been, was a burley, broad shouldered, muscular man. He wore a bowler hat over wavy, light brown hair and sported a bushy beard and full mustache. A bright blue neckerchief was tied around his rather large right bicep. Confused, Charise stared at the man, thinking he didn’t resemble the young man in the photograph at all.

  “Mmm, I don’t know, Beth...Finn told me he is clean shaven...”

  The two watched as the man, who seemed to be a bit unsure of where to go, stood looking around at the crush of people heading to and away from the trains in the large station. It truly was quite chaotic. A man with a clipboard walked by, calling out the trains, destinations, and departure times to the passengers, clearly wishing to hurry them along so that the trains could keep to their tight schedules.

  As the man in the bowler looked their way, Charise saw his brown eyes focus on the feather in her hat. Then, his gaze lowered to hers and he tentatively approached.

  “Ma’am...you wouldn’t be Miss Charise Willoughby by any chance...would you?”

  Charise’s heart somersaulted. Finn lied to m
e! Or...at least he misrepresented himself. Oh Lord, this isn’t good. What else did he tell me that wasn’t true?

  Swallowing her disenchantment, she took a step toward him and put out one hand. “Yes, I’m Charise Willoughby—and this is my friend, Beth Ann Gilmore. I...I take it then, that...you are Phineas Maynard?”

  The man set his case down, snatched off his hat with one hand, and reached to give her hand a cursory shake as he shook his head. “No, I’m not Finn—I’m his brother, Samuel.”

  The girls looked at one another, wide-eyed, and then back at the man.

  Frowning, Charise blinked. “His brother? I’m afraid I don’t underst—”

  He smiled and gave a nod of complete understanding just as someone bumped into him from behind. The harried traveler mumbled an apology as he juggled several heavy valises and tried to get around the three standing in his way. The man, Sam, glanced around at the crowds of hurrying passengers and motioned them over out of the flow of traffic.

  “Let me explain.”

  “What in Heaven’s name is a proxy bride?” Charise exclaimed after the man—who she now realized was, indeed, Finn’s brother, Sam—explained that Finn had been injured and Sam had volunteered to come in his place. But, what he said after that had been quite shocking. He quickly explained what a marriage by proxy entailed.

  “Is that even legal?” Beth Ann asked. The girls exchanged glances, as both of them were beginning to have some serious reservations about Charise’s long-distance fiancé.

  Sam couldn’t help but deliver the same understanding smile and nod as before. “Yes, it is. Quite legal, in fact.” At their dubious expressions, he hastened, “Oh, believe me, I know what you’re thinking. Why, I hadn’t heard of it myself until five days ago. But, rest assured, I sent a telegram to the county clerk here and he assured me that proxy marriages are legal in Kentucky, as well as in several other states. Their only stipulation in this state is that the marriage take place at the courthouse, not in a church, as it must be performed by a judge.”