by Morgan, Kit
That got Pastor Luke’s attention. He looked at her, his face contorted with confusion. “What?”
“Well, you see,” Mrs. Vander said, her eyes darting between her husband and the pastor. “Miss Longfellow is in town to … ah … come alongside you to …”
“Be your helpmate …” Winnie said softly as her eyes were drawn back into his.
He gazed at her a moment, then, “My what?!”
Mrs. Vander stood. “It wasn’t my fault! We thought you needed the help and knew you were all alone!”
“What are you talking about?” Mr. Vander boomed. “Mercy! What have you done?”
A knock suddenly sounded at the door and, before anyone could say anything further, Maude and Martha burst into the parlor. “Mercy!” they cried in unison.
“Mercy …” Mr. Vander added; his voice laced with warning.
“Mercy!” exclaimed Winnie when she saw the look on his face.
“Merrrrrrrcy,” added Betsy with a satisfied smirk.
They stood, each staring at the other, waiting, but for what, no one really knew. “Well,” Pastor Luke said as he stood, remembering his manners. “Good evening, Mrs. Smythe, Mrs. Tindle. It’s a pleasure to see you here.”
“Good evening, Pastor,” said Maude. She turned to Mercy, her eyes flicking to Winnie. “I take it what we sent for has arrived?”
Mrs. Vander gave her a weak nod.
“And you didn’t see fit to tell us?” asked Martha.
“I thought it best if I took care of it myself, so the two of you wouldn’t have to worry,” said Mrs. Vander with a smile.
“Does this have anything to do with the fireworks we sent for?” asked Pastor Luke.
The three matrons looked at each other. “YES!” they all cried at once.
“Which brings me to the subject of Miss Longfellow!” Mrs. Vander squeaked as she pulled Winnie from her chair. “You’d best go with Mrs. Smythe and Mrs. Tindle. They’ll instruct you on what to do and … how to handle things from here on out.”
Maude pursed her lips together, eyed Winnie and Mercy, and slowly nodded. “I see, yes. What a fine idea.”
“What?” asked Martha before she caught on. “Ohhhh, yes! We have so much to talk about and so much to do!” she walked around Winnie and took her other arm.
Winnie, more confused than ever, opened her mouth to speak, but …
“Come along, now; we mustn’t be late!” Maude boomed. “You have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow. Pastor Luke needs lots of help with this year’s Fourth of July celebration!”
“Fourth of July?” Winnie managed.
“Of course, dear …” Mrs. Vander added, her voice pleading. “If you’re going to be a helpmate to Pastor Luke, then we have to show you everything that needs to be done.”
Winnie dug her heels in, stopping Maude and Martha in their tracks. “You mean to tell me I’m here to help Luke Adams prepare for the Fourth of July?”
The three matrons nodded.
Winnie cringed as comprehension dawned. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
Mercy, Maude, and Martha froze, eyes wide, and stared at each other a moment.
“Doesn’t know what?” asked Pastor Luke.
“What a big help Miss Longfellow is going to be,” Betsy calmly said as she stood to one side, a serving tray in her hand. “Lord knows these three haven’t been much of any.” She glanced at the three older women with an accusing eye. “Which is why they called for reinforcements.”
The three women gulped at once.
“Anybody want dessert?” Betsy then asked, giving them no further notice. Maude and Martha’s shoulders slumped in relief as they each let go the breath they’d been holding. Mercy began to fan herself with frantic movements.
“But this still doesn’t explain …” Winnie started again, but Maude and Martha each gave a yank and began to drag her from the room. “But, but … what are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“My house; it’s where the fireworks are being kept,” said Maude as they entered the foyer.
“Good night, Miss Longfellow,” Winnie heard Pastor Luke call after them. “I look forward to working with you tomorrow!”
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a lopsided smile. She had no idea what was going on, but she was going to find out. No sooner did the two women have her out the front door, than she spun on them. “Stop, right he … he … Oh no, not now! She took a deep breath. “… here! Explain to me what this is about!”
Maude let go of her arm. “I apologize, Miss Longfellow, but you see, we’re on a mission of mercy, and you are now an active participant.”
“What?”
“Let’s get you to Maude’s house, and we’ll explain everything,” said Martha.
Winnie let go of her breath, and took another. She let it go, too, and prayed her stuttering would calm down. “My intended doesn’t know who I am, does he?”
Maude pursed her lips together before she spoke. “No, but he will. Now come with us and we’ll explain.”
Feeling faint from hunger, confused, and now angry, Winnie complied. What else could she do? If Luke Adams didn’t know she was his mail-order bride then what on earth was she doing here? There was only one way to find out. She let herself be pulled along by the women to Maude’s house, and hopefully some answers.
* * *
“So, you see, that’s why he doesn’t know who you are, and you mustn’t tell him,” Martha explained.
Winnie sat at the kitchen table with the two matrons. Mrs. Smythe had fixed her a bowl of stew and biscuits while she listened to their outlandish tale of finding a wife for their pastor. “You … you lied?”
“Not exactly,” Maude said as she set the bowl on the table. “We … just haven’t informed him yet. I see it more as a problem of supply and demand. We have a pastor who is lonely and all alone in the world. That man needs a wife. But there isn’t a single female in these parts for miles! What else were we supposed to do? Besides, wouldn’t you like to get to know him before you get married?”
“But, Mrs. Smythe …”
“Call me Maude, and that’s Martha,” she said pointing to her cohort.
“Maude, Martha; you can’t order a mail-order bride, have her show up, and expect it to work out with a groom who doesn’t know he’s getting married!”
Maude sat in the chair opposite Winnie’s. “We had to try, and … oh, couldn’t you find it in your heart to try, as well? Pastor Luke in a wonderful man, Miss Longfellow …”
“Since we’re on a first-name basis, you might as well call me Winnie.”
“Winnie; it’s a lovely name,” Martha acknowledged. “That being said, won’t you give Pastor Luke a chance?”
“But I feel like I’m lying!”
“You’re not lying; if anyone is, it’s us,” confessed Maude. “But now that you’re here, let’s forget that you’re a mail-order bride. He really does need an assistant to help him with the Fourth of July celebration. What better way to spend time together and get to know each other?”
Winnie sat back in her chair and groaned.
“Eat something, won’t you?” asked Martha. “You look pale.”
Winnie stared at the food, and swallowed. She felt faint, and knew if she didn’t get some food in her stomach, she could be in trouble later. She picked up the spoon offered and poked at the stew. “Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?”
“We care, and know that it will work out in the end,” Maude said. “It always does.”
Winnie said nothing but began to eat. The food was wonderful. She shuddered as she swallowed the first hot mouthful and felt it warm her belly. She pushed her anger aside to enjoy the meal and, of course, calm her nerves enough to be able to speak without her stutter. It was bad enough she did it when she was nervous, but now it popped up when she was angry, as well.
Maude and Martha sat in silence until she was done, cleared the dishes away, and then brought out a ledger book and placed it
in front of her. “What’s this?” Winnie asked.
“The church records,” Martha announced. “I’m in charge of them, but now that you’re here, you can take over.”
“But, there’s no guarantee that this will work!”
“Now don’t make a fuss,” said Maude. “Just take a gander at it, look over the names of all the folks, as you’ll want to get to know them, and then tell us what you think.”
Martha’s face screwed up as she stared at Winnie. “You can read, can’t you?”
“Yes, I can read! I just don’t see the point.”
Maude sighed. “Pastor Luke is a right handsome man, don’t you think?”
Winnie straightened in her chair. “What sort of a question is that?”
“Well, you have to admit, he isn’t hard to look at,” added Martha.
Winnie’s eyes darted from one face to the other. “People ought to be warned about you two,” she said with a sigh, and opened the ledger. “What am I looking for?”
“Oh, any sort of name that stands out. There are folks you ought to know about before you meet them.” Maude told her.
Winnie sighed again. “What are you saying?”
“Well, some folks around here have … how should I say it? Certain vices …” said Martha.
“Such as, lying about sending for a mail-order bride?” Winnie shot back.
“Now, don’t go holding that against us,” Martha added. “You’ll see when you and our handsome Pastor Luke walk down the aisle.”
Winnie wanted to groan, she wanted to moan balefully to the sky and beat her head against the side of a barn. But, what good would it do? She was stuck in Independence with no place else to go, no money, and no prospects. Except the one she was there to marry in the first place, and he didn’t have a clue. “And why must I know these things?”
“Because some of them might not like the fact you’re in town,” Maude stated in an ominous tone.
“What? Why not?”
“On account of the others,” Martha said matter-of-factly.
Winnie shook her head in exasperation; this was getting more confusing by the minute. “What others?”
“Well, let’s see …” Maude said and spun the ledger to face her. She pointed to a name on the list. “There’s Mahulda Brock’s daughter, Eva, for one.”
Martha shivered in her chair. “Oh, she’s terrible!”
“Why do I need to be concerned about her?” Winnie asked.
“Because she’ll be back in town any day now, she’s been away this last year visiting and taking care of her aunt in San Francisco,” said Maude.
“What has that got to do with anything?” asked Winnie, frustrated.
“Because she’s old enough to marry, and because she hasn’t seen Pastor Luke yet.”
Winnie let out a weary sigh. “And she’s single.”
“Yes,” Martha said. “And Pastor Luke hasn’t seen her.”
“Then why am I here? Seems to me you already have a candidate!”
Maude lowered her eyes and shook her head.
“No? What do you mean, no?” asked Winnie.
“Unless she’s changed, she’d be a horrible match for Pastor Luke.”
“How do you know I’m not a horrible match for the man?” Winnie asked. “What makes you think my vices are any better than this Eva’s?”
“Because we’ve put our trust in Mrs. Ridgley, and she sent Martha’s cousin’s sons two very fine women.”
Winnie blew out her breath and leaned back in her chair again. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“A marriage contract, if we have our way,” said Martha. “Really, Winnie, you must listen to reason. He needs a wife! A good wife! Everyone can see it but him.”
“Exactly, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that.”
“He’s young, and it’s only a matter of time before he grows lonely,” added Maude.
“Who’s to say he’s not riddled with loneliness now, and hides it?” Martha put in.
Winnie looked from one face to the other. “And if this doesn’t work?”
The two matrons glanced at each other. “It will,” said Maude. “But if it makes you feel any better, I could use some help around here, and am willing to hire you until you make enough money to go on to something else, or leave town.”
Winnie sat up at that. “You would do that for me?”
“Of course; we’re the ones that brought you out here. It’s the least I can do.”
“And I can always use an extra hand at the mercantile,” said Martha.
Winnie thought about the offer. If she and Luke Adams hit it off, and nature did, indeed, take its course, she’d get what she came for in the first place. If not, and the man had no interest in her, then she’d still have a chance to start a new life and get a fresh start. “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”
“Excellent!” said Maude. “As will we; on one condition.”
Winnie eyed her. “What now?”
“No one can know you’re his mail-order bride. If our husbands find out …”
Winnie felt like pulling her hair out, but what could she do? She’d already been sucked into their madcap scheme. “Fine.”
Maude sat back, a pleased look on her face. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow.”
* * *
Luke left the Vanders’ house feeling more than a little confused. Mrs. Vander had hired him an assistant? Did they really think him that incapable of handling their Fourth of July celebration? He knew it had become quite a tradition for the town, but surely they had more faith in him than that. Didn’t they?
He strolled down the street, his hands in his pockets, and mused over the evening’s events and the pretty young woman seated at the dinner table, as brief as he presence was. He’d seen her at church earlier, and had hoped to meet her then, but she’d disappeared before he got the chance. He thought she might be Mrs. Brock’s daughter, Eva, as he knew she was to return to Independence soon. Mrs. Brock made it a point to remind him every Sunday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, not to mention any other day she could manage. The sight of the new young woman in church made him think twice about his current state of bachelorhood, and he began to question his decision to remain that way.
“Ah, Molly,” he whispered to himself. “I’ve missed you.” But five years was a long time, and perhaps he should consider the idea of marrying again. He and Molly had barely been married two years when she died, and folks in Chicago wondered why he hadn’t re-married by now.
He turned on to Main Street and recalled a conversation he’d had with his best friend, Sam Colson, who’d lost his wife the year before. Sarah and Molly had been best friends, and looked very much like each other. Both were petite, small, and fragile; too fragile for a hard life out west. Sarah died in childbirth and Molly from a fever, which left Sam and Luke on their own.
But Sam had it harder than Luke; he had a child to take care of, which meant he had a reason to get married again quick-like if he wanted. But he never had, and Luke pondered how Sam and his daughter, Abigail, were doing. He knew he should write, but he’d been so busy with …
“Of course; no wonder she hired an assistant,” he said and stopped in the middle of the street. “I’m so busy I don’t have time for letter-writing. Mrs. Vander is right. I do need help.” He glanced up the street. It was late, the shops and businesses closed, the street deserted. He imagined himself strolling down the middle of it, a wife on his arm, a baby in hers. Wasn’t it about time he thought about moving on? After all, the women out here were not as fragile as Molly had been. They were strong, healthy, and had grit. They had to, as many of them came out west years ago with their families, while others were born into it and grew up in Independence. They were a hardy lot, and knew the frontier well.
He sighed. But the thought of again losing someone he loved …
Luke shook his head, and walked on. He’d been angry at God when he lost Molly, and it took him some ti
me to get over his loss. True, he’d been over it for a couple of years now, but was he ready to take the risk again? Could he? It was so much easier to glide through life, doing the Lord’s work, and not thinking about or dealing with the loneliness that sometimes plagued him. He stopped again, and looked up one side of the street and down the other. This was a small town; a good town. One he could raise children in… but wouldn’t opening an orphanage suffice just as well?
“Luke, you dimwit!” he chastised himself. “What are you thinking?” He had to stop running, and face the fact that there were no guarantees in this life; that things would work out in the Lord’s good time.
He stood in the middle of the street and looked to the sky. “Fine, do as You will,” he said, his arms at his sides. “But I get to pick!” He’d been sure the Almighty had sent him Molly, was positive she was the perfect woman for him. But if that were so, then why wasn’t she here with him now? But he’d been determined to be married, and looking back, he was sure it had clouded his decision-making. Or did it? He didn’t know anymore. That being the case, how was he supposed to know this time? Worse yet, there weren’t any women around to choose from. Except one.
Five
“Go on, knock,” urged Maude. “He’s in there.”
Winnie swallowed hard, and knocked on the door of the parsonage. “Shouldn’t we have waited? It’s awfully early.”
“Nonsense; it’s seven a.m. Half the morning’s gone!”
No sooner had she said it, than the door opened. Winnie sucked in a breath as she drank in the sight of Luke Adams. “He … he … hello.” Oh no! Not now!
“Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“Miss Longfellow has come to help you, of course,” Maude told him. “Where do you want her to set up?”
“Oh, yes, excuse me,” he said as he pulled a napkin from his shirtfront and wiped his mouth with it. “I guess this means we’d best get to work.”
Winnie smiled as a delicious chill went up her spine. She’d not been this close to him before, and he smelled of mint and sausage. Not only that, but he was taller than she remembered, and she gazed directly at the hollow of his throat.