by Natalie Dean
As it was, she had no stomach for lunch, even though she had hardly eaten a thing all day.
When the door was closed, she slid against it wondering just what she was meant to do now.
Of course, there was a boarding house not far from the Pennsylvania town in which she now lived. If she gave the owner there a week or two notice, she might secure herself a room there.
But, she knew that would be a temporary solution at best. She had very little money saved and would not be able to afford a room, even at the most modest boarding residence, indefinitely.
Of course, she could take a job at the textile factory just one town over as many girls were now doing.
However, at the age of thirty-three, she was hardly a girl any longer. And, she knew that establishment favored the young.
She had no family left in Pennsylvania to help her. With George and his brother, Frank’s death, all family ties had disappeared.
There was only one thing she could think to do. One person she still had a connection to.
With another deep breath, she moved uneasily from the door to her own large bedroom down the hall.
Sitting at her desk, she pulled out a sheet of parchment and quill.
She had not written to her sister-in-law in several weeks.
This was not out of a lack of affection.
Lizzie and Bernadette had been close ever since Bernadette’s marriage to Frank.
Lizzie’s reluctance to write had more to do with concern for Bernadette. Her sister-in-law had recently had a baby and was settling in with her new husband in Laramie, Wyoming. Lizzie knew that her sister would not wish to be burdened by talk of Lizzie’s troubles.
But, now, she realized she did not have the luxury of worrying about Bernadette’s welfare any longer. Now that the deed of the home had been handed over to the bank, Lizzie was forced to start worrying about her own fate.
So, putting her pen in ink, she began the letter as she always did.
‘My dear little sister…’
Chapter 2
Church was not nearly as peaceful with a baby in tow.
Though the small church on the edge of Laramie, Wyoming was still the one place that Bernadette knew she could truly quiet her thoughts, she had to admit, the squealing and rustling of her daughter by her side was a rather large distraction.
“Now, Amelia,” Bernadette said gently to the one-year-old on her lap. “How are you ever going to learn to be a good Christian woman if you cannot sit patiently in Church.”
Amelia looked up at her mother. The child’s eyes lit up, and she gave an infectious giggle which Bernadette could not help but return.
“You are hopeless child,” Bernadette said, her voice still laced with amusement. “Truly hopeless.”
“I would not give up on the babe just yet.”
The voice from the back of the Church made Bernadette jump though she recognized it almost immediately.
“You would be hard-pressed to find a child Amelia’s age who did not get a bit fussy. Even in Church.”
Bernadette turned and smiled gently at Pastor Rhodes who came down the aisle towards her.
“In my mind, I know that Pastor,” Bernadette said. “But, sometimes it is difficult to remember.”
As if to illustrate the point, little Amelia let out another small cry and flailed her arms. Bernadette stood and settled the child on her lap, picking up her satchel as well.
“Please don’t feel the need to leave on my account,” Pastor Rhodes said. “I was only bringing in readings for tomorrow’s sermon.”
He nodded to the papers he held in his hands. As he did, Bernadette couldn’t help but notice the extra gray hairs in his light brown hair.
“Don’t worry, Pastor,” Bernadette said. “You’re not chasing us out. I have to go down to the boarding house to pick up the mail and then home to put Amelia down for a nap.”
“It seems you have a full day ahead of you,” Pastor Rhodes said.
“You as well,” Bernadette answered. The man shrugged and gave a tired smile.
“No more than I can handle,” he said.
Though Bernadette knew better than to argue this point with him, she knew he was not telling the whole truth.
The shadows under his green eyes, as well as the careworn lines along his still pleasant smile, told her that the pastor had been under significant strain.
That was to be expected she supposed. The town was growing at a faster rate than anyone had expected. And the pastor now had a larger flock than he was accustomed to.
Once more, Bernadette wondered why the man did not seek out a wife. A good woman would surely be able to help him in his work. Still, while the population was growing, women willing and able to marry were still scarce in their part of the world.
“Do promise not to work yourself too hard, pastor,” she said.
He gave another tired smile which did not quite meet his eyes.
“I will do my best.”
As Bernadette bid farewell, she stepped out onto the town’s street with a certain reluctance.
Even after having lived in the town for a little over a year, she still felt like a stranger in Laramie.
Now, as she walked out of the church into the sun that felt too bright, she could see people passing by her. Mostly men buying feed for their animals or stopping into the saloon for a drink.
While they politely tipped their hats to her as she passed with her child, she could tell that they saw her as an oddity. A young woman, especially one with a child, was a strange sight in the town of Laramie.
So far as Bernadette could tell, she was the only woman in town with a child Amelia’s age. The few others there were, were either elderly widows like Mrs. Matthews who ran the boarding house or very young daughters of widowed farmers or ranchers.
Besides kind Pastor Rhodes, old Mrs. Matthews and, of course, Bernadette’s husband Matt, there were few people with whom she felt truly at ease.
Perhaps that was the reason she hastened towards the boarding house where their mail came. She did not want to linger in the street too long, and she knew Mrs. Matthews would be beyond happy to see both her and Amelia.
Amelia bounced lightly on Bernadette’s hip as they walked, apparently much happier moving than she was sitting down in a church pew. Before long, Bernadette was making the familiar climb up the steps to the door of Laramie’s lone hotel.
“Oh, Bernadette dear!” Mrs. Matthews cheery voice was heard down the hall before the large woman came into view. “I was wondering when you would stop by!”
Bernadette could now see her clearly. The short, portly woman smiled cheerfully at her pair of visitors and automatically opened her arms wide to take Amelia off Bernadette’s hands. Bernadette found that she was more than happy to comply with Mrs. Matthews silent request.
“Wonderful to see you as well, Mrs. Matthews,” Bernadette said taking Amelia from her hip and placing the child into Mrs. Matthews waiting arms.
Amelia cocked her little head to the side and looked at the older woman as though considering her for the first time. Then Amelia reached out a fat little hand and grasped at Mrs. Matthews nose.
The older woman ducked away from Amelia’s hand laughing.
“I see little Amelia is as curious as ever,” she said happily.
“She’s been taken with noses as of late,” Bernadette said. “Though she seems to discover a different part of the face each day.”
“Well,” Mrs. Matthews said with a small laugh as, this time, Amelia’s hand closed around her target. “She can explore all she wants as far as I’m concerned. It’s the only way she’ll learn. Now, I suppose you’ve come for your mail.”
“Yes,” Bernadette said. “I’m expecting a letter from my sister-in-law. She’s been having…troubles as of late.”
Mrs. Matthews smile faded, and she turned from Amelia to Bernadette.
“Nothing too serious, I hope,” she said.
“Nothing life threatening,
” Bernadette said evenly. “But, she is in danger of losing her home and her business.”
“And this is back in Pennsylvania,” Mrs. Matthews said thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Bernadette answered.
Suddenly, Mrs. Matthews face brightened as though she’d just had a brilliant idea.
“Well, then you should tell her to come out here and live with you and Mattathias!” she said. “I know you could use the help on the farm. What with Amelia taking up your time now. And, Lord knows we could use some more good women here.”
Bernadette shook her head with a sad smile.
“I’ve made the suggestion all ready,” Bernadette said. “But Lizzie…she doesn’t like to rely on others for help. She wouldn’t want to leave Pennsylvania unless she could be sure of a house of her own.”
Mrs. Matthews smile faded slightly, but her face remained thoughtful.
“You might talk to Billy,” Mrs. Matthews said. “I’ve got him dusting in the mail room as it is. He might be able to help with your…situation.”
“Billy Porter?” Bernadette asked. “I thought he was still employed on Mr. Miles ranch.”
At the name of Bernadette’s husband’s former employer, Mrs. Matthews gave a derisive snort.
“Miles let the poor boy go a little over a month ago,” she said. “He had nowhere else to go in the area so, I hired him on to help me. But, I know he means for this to be a temporary situation. He has an eye towards the same arrangement you and Mattathias made.”
Bernadette’s eyes widened in understanding.
“You mean he’s looking for a wife?” Bernadette asked a little too hastily.
Mrs. Matthews gave a secret smile.
“Why don’t you go in and discuss it with him yourself, dear?” she said pointing the way towards the mail room down the hall. “I’ll be more than happy to look after Amelia while you do.”
“Thank you,” Bernadette said hastily before making her way down the hall.
When she arrived, she did indeed meet with the short and fairly skinny form of Billy Peters. His longish, light brown hair fell into his brown eyes as he wiped the mail counters down with a rag.
“I must say it is a surprise to see you here, Billy,” she said. The young man jumped, startled and turned towards her.
“Mrs. Jacobs!” he said hastily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Bernadette nearly laughed at the surprise on the boy’s face. His wide eyes always gave him an expression of slight surprise. But the earnest goodness was clear in the rest of his face.
“It’s I who should apologize, Billy,” she said. “I should know better than to sneak up on a man at work.”
He glanced at the dust rag in his hands, and a slight blush came into his cheeks.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting your mail. Here let me get it for you.”
He turned hastily setting the rag down on the counter. Something in his demeanor spoke of embarrassment. And, Bernadette was almost sure she knew why that was. Still, it would be best to hear it from Billy himself. She had learned long ago that it was best not to make assumptions.
“You should have told Matt that you’d changed employers,” she said as gently as she could. “We would have paid a visit much earlier if we’d known.”
“Truth be told,” he said turning and offering several letters to Bernadette. The pink blush was still in his cheeks, and his eyes remained on the floor. “I didn’t think I would employed at the boarding house long enough to make it widely known. I thought I might be able to get…something else started before long.”
“Are you thinking of starting your own farm?” Bernadette asked gently.
She was surprised but pleased when the blush disappeared from Billy’s cheeks, and his face brightened with a sense of excitement.
“More than a farm,” he said. “There’s plenty of ranch land north of town. And, I’ve nearly saved up enough to put down for a loan with the bank. When I do, I plan to create a cattle ranch to rival Mr. Miles.”
“I’m sure your former employer doesn’t care too much for that idea.”
“He didn’t,” Billy said. “That’s why he kicked me out. But, he can’t do anything to stop me. I’ve even got the land picked out.”
“I suppose you’ll need all the help you can get on a ranch that size,” Bernadette said gently.
“I’ve been working on that too,” Billy said. “Look.”
The eager expression remained on his face when he riffled through his pockets and pulled out a small brochure entitled “The Hand and Heart.”
Bernadette only had to flip through several pages to see what it was. Each yellowed page contained grainy photographs and descriptions of men out West in search of brides.
“I figured since it worked out so well for Matt,” he said. “I might try it for myself. There might be a woman back East looking to help a man out on a large ranch.”
Bernadette continued to flip through the brochure until she came to Billy’s own ad.
“I couldn’t spare the money for a photograph,” he said. “But, Mrs. Matthews helped me put in a pretty good description.”
“So, Mrs. Matthews helped with this advertisement?” Bernadette asked.
“Yes Ma’am,” he said. “I was never good at writing. I can sign my name and write a few other words but, that’s about the extent of it.”
“I see,” Bernadette said.
She glanced through the description and the advertisement all the same.
The writing was plain but, Mrs. Matthews had done a fairly good job matching Billy’s simple tone of speech.
In the ad, he claimed to be seeking a young lady, no older than thirty-two who was independent, educated and willing to work on a farm or ranch.
Independent and educated certainly described her sister-in-law. And she knew Lizzie had never shied away from even the most difficult of work.
What’s more, when Bernadette lifted her eyes from the page to Billy, she could see that this boy with big dreams and little grasp of reality would need a partner who could keep him grounded. Lizzie was more than capable of that task.
And, when she looked at Billy again, she was certain he would be able to lift Lizzie out of her more serious moods. Get her to see the world through rose-colored glasses every once in a while.
In the ad, Billy had put down his own age, twenty-five. She knew Lizzie would never agree to marry a man younger than her.
Even before George died, it was clear that Lizzie was not able to have children. And, she always said she could not saddle a man younger than thirty with the burden of a barren wife.
Still, Bernadette thought that, if she found the right man, she could be persuaded to forget this dramatic vow.
Until then, however, a simple marking over Billy’s age in the handbill would suffice. She could hide it from Lizzie until the two of them met in person. Once they did, perhaps it wouldn’t matter at all.
“Well, what do you think?” Billy asked as though genuinely eager for her opinion.
“It’s a splendid advertisement,” Bernadette said, trying to calm her excitement. “In fact, do you mind if I were to take this home with me? I have a friend who might prove interested.”
“You’re welcome to it,” Billy said. “I’ve got another copy.”
“Thank you, Billy,” she said.
As she bid him farewell and made her way back to the front room where Mrs. Matthews was minding Amelia, she tried to quell the excitement in her chest.
There was no guarantee, after all, that Lizzie would agree to her scheme. And, even if she did, there was no guarantee that Billy and Lizzie would take to one another.
Still, Bernadette found that she could not quell the feeling of excitement when she realized that, very soon, she might no longer feel quite so alone in Laramie.
Chapter 3
Lizzie could not believe she had agreed to this.
And, yet, here she was. In a covered buggy, pushed up next to a lawye
r and his wife, and an entirely silent banker, making her way towards the town of Laramie, Wyoming.
Of course, she reminded herself, she’d had little choice in the matter.
Lizzie had been living in a rented room in a boarding house just outside Philadelphia when she received the first letter from her sister-in-law, Bernadette, bearing the suggestion that she answer a request for correspondence “with an eye towards matrimony” from a young man in the town Bernadette lives in.
The bank had already pushed her out of her home. And, the small income her husband George had left to her when he passed on was beginning to run dry.
A new marriage was, truly, one of the very few options she had left available to her.
Not to mention, this Bill Peters sounded very suitable.
The letters she’d received were well written, descriptive and filled with eager plans for the ranch he planned to create. That ranch, truly, was one of the driving forces that caused her to accept his proposal.
After weeks of staying in her room at the boarding house, Lizzie had become desperate to feel useful again.
When she had run a boarding house of her own, there had always been something to do. Whether that be cleaning or keeping the accounting books or registering new guests.
She imagined helping to run a ranch would be similar in many ways. There would, perhaps, be more manual labor involved.
When Lizzie thought about that, she did worry that her soft, plump body might become a detriment.
Her curvy frame and thick brown hair were made for an eastern city. Not the Wild West.
However, she had always been quick to acclimate to her surroundings.
Yes, she could not help but feel a sense of contentment when she realized that she would, once again, be running a business. And, if marriage to Bill Porter was the price of a share in that business…well…that was perfectly fine.
She realized, of course, that this was not the most romantic way to describe one’s future husband but, she’d never been one for unnecessary sentiment. She had loved George. Any man who came after him would simply not compare. No matter how many good qualities he possessed.