His Mail-Order Valentine (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book 10)

by Kit Morgan

  Before he could offer her an arm, she grabbed one with a grip like a wolf’s jaws. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” she giggled, delighted she had her hands on him.

  Maybe she is that bad, Julian mused. “Yes. Lovely.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself now that Miss Brubauk has gone back to Portland,” Bernice said. “Life around here is going to be terribly dull.”

  “How unfortunate,” Julian mumbled, his jaw tight. He wondered how long it would take him to detach her from his person once he got her home.

  “I learned so much from her,” Bernice continued. “What a wise woman she is.”

  “Have you thought of paying a visit to her in Portland?” he asked hopefully.

  Julian didn’t think it possible, but she tightened her hold on him. “Oh no, I couldn’t do that. There are too many things keeping me here.”

  He gave her a nervous glance as they strolled. “Like what?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Oh, just … things.”

  Julian gulped and stared straight ahead ... and it was then he saw her. There was a young blonde woman in the company of his mother, Mrs. Vander and Mrs. Tindle. “Who is that?” he asked.

  Bernice saw her too, and they both stopped. “I have no idea. Why don’t you ask your mother?”

  “Good idea – I think I will.” He headed across the street, Bernice still glued to his side. But he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Were his mother and her friends speeding up as if to get away from him? “Mother?” he called.

  His mother stopped, but motioned for the others to continue. Mrs. Vander glanced over her shoulder at Julian, eyes wide, and quickened her pace. “Well, hello, son,” his mother said. “And hello to you, Bernice. What are you two doing?”

  “Julian was kind enough to escort me home,” Bernice volunteered. “Maybe he’ll want to stay for tea.”

  Julian stiffened. “That … sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I have work to do.”

  His mother looked nervously at the group hurrying down the street. “Ah … what work? What harm is there in a quick visit with Bernice?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Bernice said with a smile.

  “Mother,” Julian said, ignoring her. “Who is that?”

  “Who, dearest?” his mother asked innocently.

  “That young woman with your friends.”

  “Oh, her? Why… er … ah … that’s Mercy’s new maid!”

  “Maid? The Vanders have a new maid? Is Betsy leaving?”

  “Oh no, dear. But she’d like to do other things besides work all day. If they have two maids, then she’ll be able to.”

  Julian thought a moment. He had noticed Ammy’s father and Betsy were spending a lot of time together lately. Could it be they were planning to get married? But if so, would the Vanders part with her? “Garrett must not know a thing about it, or he would’ve said something to me.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t. She just got here today.”

  “Why didn’t she hire someone local to help out?” Julian asked.

  “Oh come now, dear – you know how particular Mercy is. Why else would she send away for one?”

  “I suppose so,” he said as he watched the group round the corner and head up Cherry Street.

  “Well, I’d best hurry along. Mercy wanted us to meet the girl and help, ah … show her some of her duties.”

  “You don’t live there,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t Mrs. Vander be able to do that on her own?”

  “Oh, but there’s just so much, and you know how bad Mercy’s memory is.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Garrett’s mother was a bit scatterbrained and everyone knew it. “Good luck to you, then,” he told her.

  “I’ll see you at home,” she said, then turned and hurried up the street.

  “Imagine that,” Bernice said. “Two maids. What I wouldn’t give to have one maid … but my father would never hear of it.”

  “Why, you poor thing,” Julian drawled sarcastically as he headed off in the other direction. “What does a maid do other than cook and clean?”

  “You mean you don’t know? A maid can do all sorts of things! She could fix my hair, help me to get dressed, give me romantic advice …”

  Julian looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Romantic advice.”

  “Who can you talk to about these things, other than your ladies’ maid? I’m certainly not going to talk about them to my mother!”

  “Yes, of course not,” he agreed with a sigh.

  “Maids do everything for you. My mother’s going to be exceedingly jealous when she finds out.”

  “I see. Well, I suppose the rest of us will just have to muddle on without one.”

  “Oh Julian, you’re very funny when you want to be!”

  He grimaced and kept walking.

  When they reached the Caulders’ house he tried to pull his arm away but without success. She gripped him as if she were hanging off a cliff. “Well, I’d best be going …” he said as he struggled.

  She tried to tug him toward the gate. “But don’t you want to stay for tea? Your mother said you should.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t today, Bernice. I really need to get home. Some other time, perhaps?”

  She gazed up at him, sadness in her eyes, and for a moment Julian felt sorry for her. “Oh, all right. Go on if you have to.” She let go of his arm and pouted.

  Julian fought against a sigh. If only Bernice would grow up, she’d have a better shot at landing a beau. At the rate she was going, however, she’d be lucky to land anything more than a few moments of barely polite company here and there. It wasn’t that she was mean-spirited, just immature and… clingy. “Good day, Bernice. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

  “I’m sure I won’t, but that’s okay.”

  Julian closed his eyes a moment, then tipped his hat, smiled and turned to leave.

  “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.

  Julian froze. “I’m not sure, Bernice. Tomorrow’s a work day.”

  “Oh, that’s right …” She kicked at the gatepost.

  Julian sighed to himself. Bernice might be a pill, but he couldn’t in good conscience leave her like this. “I hear Bernard Rudshaw will be home next week. We should invite him to have tea with us.”

  That seemed to brighten her spirits. “Bernard? Oh, I’d almost forgotten about him. Very well, then – I’ll invite him to tea just as soon as I know he’s back in town.”

  Julian turned to her. “Good idea. I’ll see you then.” He gave her another smile and left for home. He wished he could have told her to invite the Vanders’ new maid as well ... but one did not invite a servant to tea.

  * * *

  Mercy and Martha shoved Ellie through a side door of a beautiful home. She stumbled into a large kitchen to find Betsy, Mrs. Vander’s maid, staring at her wide-eyed. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” Betsy asked.

  “We’ve come up with a wonderful plan, Betsy!” Mercy told her.

  “Mm-hmm. This oughta be good.”

  “Oh, you’ll just love it!” Martha said.

  “I’ll be the judge of that. What’ve you two been cooking up?”

  “Well, we thought Miss Sampson here could pretend to be your cousin from back east,” Mercy explained.

  “Mrs. Vander, have you lost your mind?”

  “What’s the matter,” Martha asked. “Don’t you have cousins?”

  “Of course I got cousins! But none that’d come out here.”

  “Then there’s no chance of there being a mix-up, is there?” Mercy asked.

  Betsy stared at them both, bug-eyed. “Surely you two can think up a better reason for this poor girl to be here than that.”

  Mercy was about comment when Maude came through the door, completely out of breath. “That was a close one!”

  “Oh dear!” Mercy exclaimed. “What did you tell Julian?”

  “The first thing that p
opped into my head!” she said still gasping.

  Betsy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her. “Which was?”

  “It’s brilliant, really,” Maude said, proud of herself. “I told him that Miss Sampson here was your new maid.”

  “New maid?!” squeaked Mercy. “I’ve already got a maid!”

  “Yes, and you’re the only one in town who might get another,” Maude pointed out.

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Now she did. “You know, that is a good idea!”

  “What is?” snapped Betsy.

  “Getting a new maid. I hadn’t thought of it. I could have twice the amount of work done around here.”

  Ellie, still in shock all this time, finally spoke. “I’m leaving. That’s it, I. Am. Leaving.”

  “No!” Mercy, Martha and Maude cried together.

  Ellie nodded. “Oh, yes, I am. Watch me!” She started for the door.

  Mercy grabbed her arm. “At least give Julian a chance!”

  “I haven’t even met the man!”

  “You saw him,” Maude said.

  “When? Where? All I saw was a young man and woman across the street.”

  “That was Julian!”

  “He was out with a woman. Is he her beau?” Ellie asked.

  “Bernice? Heavens, no!” Martha turned to Maude. “What was he doing with Bernice, anyway?”

  “Being a gentleman and walking her home,” Maude explained.

  “You see,” Mercy said. “Julian’s a nice young man.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. After the meal at Mrs. Brock’s house, she was able to think again. As her hostess predicted, the three matrons had showed up and set about devising a plan to hide the fact that Ellie was a mail-order bride. More importantly, that she was Julian Smythe’s mail-order bride. However, they would all have to lie to make it work, and the longer she stayed in Independence, the deeper she’d sink. She was going to have to leave. “I’m sorry, really I am,” she told them. “But I want no part of this.”

  “Why not, dear?” Mercy asked. “Maude has come up with a much better plan than we did.”

  “Yes, but I’m sorry, I just don’t want …”

  “You wouldn’t be lying – you’d be getting a job,” Martha argued.

  Ellie stood, stunned at her words. “I’d still be lying … wouldn’t I?”

  “About what, dear?” Mercy asked. “You came to town, you decided to stay, and to do that you had to have a job. Now here you are.”

  “But it’s not a real job,” Ellie argued.

  Betsy smirked. “Mm-hmm. She got you there, Mrs. Vander.”

  “But it would be a real job,” Mercy replied. “I used to have two maids. There’s certainly enough work here for two. Besides, Betsy,” she added, “That would give you more time with your beau ...”

  Betsy’s eyes widened. That was a good point.

  “In fact,” Mercy continued, “if we take in one of your uniforms, I’m sure it will fit Miss Sampson perfectly.”

  “Are you serious?” Ellie asked.

  “Of course, dear. Won’t you consider it? It would give you a chance to stay here in Independence and get to know Julian better.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Ellie said as she pressed her fingers against her temples. “You’re going to hire me as your maid? With pay and everything?”

  “Of course, dear,” Mercy said with a smile. “Though you’d have to bunk with Betsy.”

  “What?” Betsy blurted in shock. “Share my room?”

  “It’s for a good cause,” Mercy said.

  “Oh nonsense,” Maude said. “She can stay with Mahulda.”

  “The whole time?” Martha asked.

  “Well she certainly can’t stay with me,” Maude said. “That would be improper.”

  “You’re quite right,” Mercy agreed. “It might look better if she stays at the Brocks’.”

  “I think she should stay here,” Martha said. “Why on earth would a new maid stay at the Brocks’ house but work in this one?”

  “Well, I suppose we could say that we’re sharing her,” Mercy said.

  Ellie groaned. “I’m in a madhouse. A madhouse …”

  “Well, she can stay there tonight, at least until we figure out something else,” Mercy said, oblivious to Ellie’s words. “Two households sharing a maid has been done before. It would make sense.”

  Ellie was about to retort when a thought struck. If she worked as a maid in both households and got paid for it, she could earn enough money to get out of this crazy place! What else was she going to do? She’d have to play along if she wanted to get her hands on some money. “Okay, fine! I’ll do it.”

  “We knew you’d see reason, dear,” Mercy said with a smile. “Betsy, fetch me one of your work dresses and let’s get it altered right away.”

  “But what about Mahulda?” Maude asked. “Who’s going to talk to her?”

  “You are, of course,” Mercy said. “After all, we’re doing this for your son.”

  “I agree,” Martha said. “And I’m sure you would do no less if it was one of our boys.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Maude said. “But you know how cranky Mahulda can be.”

  “Do I have any say in this?” Betsy asked.

  “No,” they said at once.

  Betsy exchanged a quick look with Ellie. “Well, welcome to the Vander household. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about being a maid, would you?”

  “Actually, I believe I do,” Ellie commented with a sigh. Her marriage to Earl had consisted of little more than cooking and cleaning and being ordered about – how much different could it be? The big difference was that she wouldn’t be living or serving in a shack, but in two grand homes – and she’d be paid with legal tender, not abuse. She glanced around the enormous kitchen, and wondered what the rest of the house looked like. “What do I do first?”

  Betsy smiled. “You leave it to me. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  * * *

  Julian sat and stared at the fire in the hearth. He couldn’t get the young woman’s face – what little he’d seen of it – out of his mind. She was pretty, but her eyes had a frightened look that he’d noticed even from across the street. He’d have to pay Garrett a visit in the next day or two and find out exactly who the young woman was. Maid or no maid, he wanted to know more about her.

  “Evening, son,” his father greeted as he sat in a chair next to him.

  “Evening, Pa.”

  “I hear the Vanders got themselves another maid.”

  Julian turned and looked at him. “News sure travels fast.”

  “No, just your mother. She told me the moment she got home. Name’s Ellie, she says. Mercy got her from Oregon City.”

  “Oregon City? Who did she work for there?”

  “Don’t know, didn’t ask. How are the new wagon braces holding up?”

  “Fine – Mr. Rudshaw does good work. Bernard’s coming home in a week or so.”

  “So I’ve heard. Good thing, too – old man Rudshaw isn’t as strong as he used to be with that bad back of his. It’ll be nice when Bernard takes over the blacksmith shop. I hear he learned a lot working for his uncle up in Portland this last year.”

  “So Mr. Rudshaw told me,” Julian said. “How old is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The Vander’s new maid. Ellie?”

  “Don’t know, didn’t ask. What do you want to know for?”

  Julian shrugged. “No reason, just curious. Independence isn’t exactly Oregon City or Portland. Heck, nor Salem for that matter. Why would a girl take a job in a little town like this?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like the big towns anymore. My question is, what do Mercy and Horace need with another maid?”

  Julian chuckled. “You know how Mrs. Vander is. She used to have two, after all – she’d probably have an army of them if Horace let her.”

  Jonathan Smythe laughed at that. “Your ma says she’s a
pretty thing. Mercy and Horace are gonna have their hands full once the menfolk get a look at her.”

  “What menfolk, Pa?”

  “That’s true. But there is you, and Bernard once he gets home ... and Jess Templeton when he gets back in the spring.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s going to be interested in a servant, Pa.”

  “I hear tell servants aren’t allowed to marry in the big cities. Do you know if that’s true?”

  “I’ve heard that too.”

  “Well, if Mercy Vander follows that practice, then she’ll have herself two maids for a very long time.”

  “Ammy’s father might not like that idea,” Julian commented.

  Mr. Smythe smiled. “Yeah. Horace made a comment in church the other day – says he saw Betsy holding hands with Cecil Winters at Garrett and Ammy’s wedding. Of course, Horace won’t mind if Betsy takes a shine to Mr. Winters. Mercy, on the other hand …”

  “Maybe that’s why she ordered up a new maid, so Betsy can marry if she wants.”

  “Maybe. Speaking of marriage, have you given any thought to it lately? Your two best friends are hitched now – me and your ma thought you might be thinking about it.”

  “Even if I was, what could I do? There aren’t any women around here – you know that.”

  “There is … Bernice Caulder …” Mr. Smythe made a face. “Yeah, I see your point. But she is available.”

  “She’s just a girl, Pa, not ripe for marrying. You know it and I know it. I have no idea what will make her grow up.”

  “I suppose you’re right, son. I was just thinking about you. A man can get mighty lonely once his friends are married. Pretty soon you’ll have no one to talk to anymore – they’ll be too busy with their wives. Unless of course, you got one of your own.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Pa, but I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

  “Well, think about it. If you want to leave and go find yourself a wife, your ma and I will understand.”

  “You will?”

  “Of course. We want you to be happy, son.”

  “You could get by without me for a few weeks? Maybe longer?”