“We will discuss Michael and Shane in a minute, but for now we must have an answer on what you intend to do,” Lily said.
“Us?” Maura looked around her, a panicked expression on her face.
“Lily and Father Nelson have suggested we consider becoming mail order brides,” Bridget said.
“Me, marry a stranger? After everything I’ve been through? Never. How could you even suggest it? You know how much I loved David.”
Bridget bit back her temper. Yes, Maura had been through a lot, but life hadn’t exactly been a bed of roses for her either. But her sister couldn’t see beyond herself.
“Yes, but he’s gone,” Bridget said. “You’re alive. What are you going to do?”
“I will become a nun before I marry a stranger,” Maura said.
“That can be arranged, Maura, but I suggest you give the idea some more thought. A calling to the priesthood or religious orders, while wonderful, is a lifetime decision. Not one to be made on the spur of the moment,” Father Nelson added.
Maura stood and ran from the room.
“I apologize for my sister,” Bridget said. “She hasn’t been right since her fiancé was killed.”
“Don’t worry. We will look after Maura, but what about you, Bridget? Do you think you could become a mail order bride?” Lily asked, a kind but thoughtful expression on her face.
“Could my siblings be sent to the same area?” Bridget asked.
Lily exchanged a look with Father Nelson.
“We might be able to arrange that,” Father Nelson said doubtfully. “But if they are adopted, Bridget, their new families may discourage all contact.”
She would deal with it when it happened. If she could keep her family together until they got to Riverside Springs, maybe she would find an alternative.
“I would like to be with them for as long as possible,” Bridget said.
“You may be putting off the inevitable and increasing your pain,” Father Nelson said.
“Thank you, Father, but I don’t think that is possible. After the last few weeks, my family need me.”
She saw the priest and Lily exchange a look, but she didn’t care. She had bought herself some time and that was all that mattered.
“What will happen to Michael and Shane?” she asked next.
“They are still underage, but as they are orphans, I can arrange for them to be released and placed on one of the trains. I have spoken to friends on the force and they said their so-called crimes amount to little more than petty thieving.” Father Nelson took a deep breath. “While I never condone stealing, I can understand how hunger would tempt a man, never mind a child. If we get them on the trains they will have a chance.”
“But who will adopt older boys?” Bridget asked.
“It’s highly unlikely they will be adopted, Bridget. As you imagine, the majority of children who are adopted tend to be the younger ones. The older boys are often taken in by farming families to help on the land. They will receive schooling where possible and will be able to leave when they are twenty-one. At that time, they will receive their wages and a suit of clothes.”
“Would they be treated kindly?” Bridget asked.
The look in the priest eyes made her shudder.
“I would love to tell you, yes, and believe it with my whole heart. But I cannot say that with certainty. What I can say, is that we do our best to find good homes for all the children. And I can safely say that being out in the fresh air learning a trade and way of life will be a thousand times better than existing in their current environment. If they survive the Tombs they are likely to be hardened criminals on their release.”
“Yes, Father,” Bridget said. “Send them on the trains.”
“You don’t want to discuss this with Maura?” Lily asked.
“She will agree,” Bridget said. “You do what you think best. We are very grateful for your help. Can I write them a note before they go?”
“Yes, of course you may. I will take it to them myself,” Father Nelson said. “I have asked that they be released into the care of the local asylum. I will go and see them in the next day or two.”
“Thank you, Father. They are good boys, or at least they were until they got mixed up with the gangs. I pray that they would find their way back to God and us with the help of strangers.”
“We will all pray for that, Bridget. Won’t we, Lily?”
Chapter 11
Riverside Springs Wyoming
Brian Curran pushed the hair out of his eyes. Despite being stripped to the waist, the sweat ran down his arms. The hot summer sun beat down so hard, it was a wonder the field of hay didn’t catch fire. He pulled out his flask and swallowed a drink of water.
“Hey Mitch, we almost done? I think I’m being broiled alive.”
“Nearly. If we get this finished, we can start fresh on the top field tomorrow.”
Brian grunted in reply. He didn’t have the energy to argue with his friend. Mitch had given him his first job when he’d finished his indenture all those years ago. Since then they had become close, almost like brothers. Mitch had encouraged Brian to pursue his dream of running his own place. He’d helped him lay claim to his land. The least he could do was help Mitch with his crop. He was short of hands as he couldn’t get cash from the bank to pay for his casual workers. With the big banks closing, the smaller town banks wouldn’t lend any money even if you offered to secure the loan with gold coins.
“You’re coming back to the house for dinner, right? Shannon has enough for all of us,” Mitch said.
“I bet she has,” Brian muttered. He liked his friend’s wife, but she was too keen on marrying Brian off for his liking. She kept harping on about using a catalogue of mail order brides. Just because her and Mitch had met that way and now had a very happy marriage didn’t mean it was suitable for everyone. Brian was quite happy on his own. At least, that’s what he told himself.
He couldn’t remember having a family. Not a real one anyway. His days back in New York were a long distant memory. After a brief time spent in the children’s hospital, he’d left on one of the so-called Orphan Trains. The Moores had provided him with lodgings, food, and some schooling in return for his labor. But he was never considered part of the family. They didn’t even offer him the chance to stay on as a laborer once his indenture period was over. They gave him his money and his suit as promised and wished him well. Then they headed off to meet the next fifteen-year-old lad who would put in six years of labor on their farm.
Brian closed his eyes, remembering how he had headed to his bed in the barn while the family had slept in the house. It wasn’t appropriate for him to share with the girls of the family, but he would have happily shared Tom’s room. But Mr. Moore wouldn’t hear of the orphan sharing with his son. Brian had stood watching in from the window as the family had gathered around the fire, telling stories, swapping tales of their day at school. Mrs. Moore, a kindly soul much in awe of her husband, knitting by the fire with the girls, Julia and Samantha, at her feet. Tom perched on his father’s right-hand side. Brian would watch them laughing and joking, wishing they would include him. When they prayed together he folded his hands in prayer, joining in as he learned the words. Only they never knew. Somehow, he'd known they wouldn’t appreciate him eavesdropping on their family time.
Brian ducked as Mitch’s arm nearly hit his head.
“You back with us yet, or are you still lollygagging?” Mitch asked.
“Sorry, Mitch,” Brian said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “How about a race? Whoever finishes first gets the biggest slice of pie after dinner.”
“You’re on,” Mitch replied, grinning.
Brian threw himself into the work. Breaking a sweat was better than breaking his heart over old hurts. Six years he had been away from the Moores. More than long enough for those wounds to heal.
They finished the work in record time and sat in the field, enjoying a drink of water.
“Brian, I
know the missus annoys you with her chatter about you getting wed. It’s only because she’s lonely. You know there are few women around her. It would be nice for Shannon to have some new friends. Mrs. Clarke and Mrs. Peoples are nice, but they are that much older. If you were to wed, Shannon would gain a friend, someone to talk to about all that women’s stuff.”
Brian stared at the ground, but he was listening.
“It would be good for you too. There’s nothing like coming home to a hot meal and even nicer company. I don’t know where I would be without my Shannon.”
“Starving and cold?” Brian joked.
“I’m serious Brian. You are too nice a guy to live alone.”
Chapter 12
Riverside Springs Wyoming
Brian rode into Riverside Springs. The town was quieter than usual, it being a Sunday morning. The people would start arriving for services shortly, but he wanted a bit of quiet time in the church. He wanted to talk to God about his future and Mitch’s suggestion he find a mail order bride.
“Good morning Brian. Bit early for you today, isn’t it? I don’t see any wedding and it’s not Christmas.”
Brian didn’t react to the Reverend’s teasing. They both knew he wasn’t a regular church goer.
“Morning Reverend Franklin. Yes, I was hoping to get some time alone. I felt it was right to come here.” Although he couldn’t explain why he was drawn to the church so hoped the Reverend wouldn’t ask.
“You have a lot on your mind?” the reverend asked, “Want to talk about it?”
Brian didn’t but to say so would be rude. Reverend Franklin was a kindly old soul. Nobody knew what age he was but if he had to guess, Brian thought he was about sixty.
“A problem shared and all that,” the reverend prompted.
“Mitch thinks it is time I found myself a wife,” Brian said.
“And you don’t?”
“No, well yes. Oh, I don’t know. There are no women around these parts. Not ones you want to marry,” Brian said.
“Mitch and Shannon are happy, aren’t they?” Reverend Franklin asked.
“Yes, but what if Mitch just got lucky? What if the woman who comes here for me looks like a …”
“Now Brian, you should know better. It is not how someone looks on the outside but the inside that counts. Her heart and her faith. Everything else comes second.”
That was easy for Reverend Franklin to say. He wouldn’t have to live with whoever came looking for a husband. What was wrong with her that finding one in New York was so difficult? Surely there had to be plenty of single men out there?
“As it happens, I have had a letter from a good friend of mine by the name of Thomas Nelson. Father Nelson, yes, he is a catholic priest, is involved with a lady’s sanctuary. He has written of a delightful young girl by the name of Bridget who finds herself in need of a husband.”
A women’s sanctuary. What type of place was that? Was she a criminal?
“This young lady has been a victim of a rather unscrupulous man. The man in question is wealthy and seems to believe the young ladies who work for him are his property. According to Father Nelson, he treats them little better than slaves,” Reverend Franklin said.
“Women having to work hard is hardly a crime, is it?” Brian asked.
“It is when the person they work for expects them to provide additional services.”
Brian stared at the ground, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t say anything. What type of man would force himself on a young girl?
“This girl, Bridget Collins, defended herself and in the process hurt the owner’s son.”
“Good for her,” Brian replied.
“Maybe, but maybe not. The man wants to press charges and so far, hasn’t been able to as Bridget is being protected. But Father Nelson believes she would be better leaving New York as soon as possible. She needs a good man to marry and protect her.”
Brian rubbed his finger inside his collar. It was hot outside, but he had a chill running down his backbone. The way the reverend was looking at him, he was expecting Brian to volunteer to marry this young woman. He hadn’t even seen a picture of her.
“It would be an act of charity,” Reverend Franklin said. “To save a young devout woman from injustice. You could say God directed you here this morning in answer to this young lady’s prayers.”
Brian wished he had volunteered to check the herd rather than come early into town.
“I don’t know, Reverend. I haven’t fully decided to marry. What if we don’t get on?” he asked.
“All marriages have their trials. All relationships do, if we are honest. Do you not think there are days when being a man of God is the last thing I want to be?”
Brian couldn’t hide his shock.
“Yes, young man,” the reverend said, laughing slightly. “I, too, had dreams of living another life. But God calls, and we have to answer him. You do not have to marry young Bridget straight away. You could send for her and she can live with someone, maybe Shannon and Mitch until such a time as you both feel ready to marry.”
Brian liked the sound of that. If she arrived and looked like a mule, he didn’t have to get wed.
“Of course, there would be certain expectations but no doubt in time you would come to see the inner beauty and not just the surrounding package.”
How could the Reverend do that? How could he read his mind so easily?
“Yes Reverend.”
“Good, then I will write to Father Nelson immediately after services and tell him. I will need you to write a letter too.”
“Me?” Brian asked. “Why?”
“To your intended,” Reverend Franklin said. “Tell her a little about yourself. The poor woman is going to travel halfway across the country to marry a stranger. It would be nice if you could tell her a little bit about yourself, wouldn’t it?”
Brian nodded, feeling a little sick. He had just agreed to marry a stranger. And all he had come in for was a quiet chat with his creator. God did work in mysterious ways, that was for sure.
He paced up and down wondering what he should write. Then he sat and sucked the pencil waiting for inspiration. The time ticked by. At this rate, Reverend Franklin would have to write the letter for him. Or maybe he would ask Shannon to write it, her being a lady. That was too embarrassing to think about, so Brian started scribbling.
Dear Ms. Collins
Reverend Franklin has suggested I write and offer you a marriage proposal. As you can see, writing and talking to women isn’t my strong point.
I am almost twenty-seven years old. I have my own piece of land, some crops, and some animals, set in the prettiest place on earth. I live just north of Riverside Springs.
Riverside Springs is a small but growing town. It’s peaceful. Maybe some would consider it too quiet, but I like it. My nearest neighbor and best friend is married to a fine lady by the name of Shannon.
I believe you have to leave New York quickly but if you do get a chance to reply, I look forward to your letter.
Yours …
Brian sucked the pencil. How should he sign off the letter? It wasn’t particularly romantic was it? But then how could it be when all he knew about the girl was her name.
“All done, Brian?” Reverend Franklin came back to the church.
Brian gathered it was time for services.
“Have you the letter ready? I don’t want to miss David Dunne.” The reverend held out his hand. “He is riding up to Green River and agreed to put the post on the train for me.”
Brian handed the Reverend the letter, only realizing later he had never signed it. Miss Collins would think he was some greenhorn. Maybe she would find an alternative match.
Chapter 13
New York
Lily walked into the sewing room early one afternoon.
“Bridget, I’ve had a message from Mrs. Fleming. She has asked me to come and see her. Would you like to come with me? Mike and Tommy will be with us.”
“Y
es, please. I would love to get to say goodbye to Mrs. Fleming before I leave New York. She was very good to me, to all of us.”
“Good, we will go this evening.”
In the Summer heat, the tenements smelled worse than the markets. Crippled beggars fought with women and children, hawking anything from fruit to newspapers. It took time to walk down the streets and dark alley especially as people stopped to say hello to Lily at every turn. Bridget watched her in awe as she greeted everyone with the same smile. The woman never ceased to amaze her; the love and consideration she shared for those less fortunate was truly amazing to see.
Mrs. Fleming was waiting outside her rooms. “Bridget, you look like a proper lady. Don’t you scrub up nice?”
Blushing, Bridget guessed it was a rhetorical question as Mrs. Fleming kept talking.
“Miss Lily, thank ya for coming down so quickly. There’s a couple of children who need help. Jacob Kelly and his younger sister Lizzie. I’ve been feeding them the last few days but much as I would love to take them in, I just don’t have the room.”
“Where are they? Where are their parents?” Bridget asked.
“Their ma, God rest her, died having her latest babe. The child didn’t last five minutes. Their Pa, “Mrs. Fleming screwed up her face in distaste, “the coppers took him away. After all these years and those poor dead children. They finally saw him for the murdering varmint he was.”
“The police didn’t think to take the children to safety?” Lily asked, her face white.
“I don’t think they knew about them. Jacob took Lizzie to hide from their Pa when he went on his latest rampage. That young fella, he’s been protecting the child since the day she was born. Only for him, she’d been dead too. They didn’t come back until their Pa was long gone.”
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