But, now that she thought about it, Emily realized that this shortage of men in her town was yet another factor that did not weigh in her favor. Even if she somehow convinced her aunt and uncle to let her see suitors, the supply of them was running low—and, in the long run, she might end up with a spouse who was less than ideal.
Why not search for a more fitting one now? Emily asked herself as she began to turn through the pages. She saw advertisement after advertisement, scanning each of them for something—anything—that caught her interest.
There were a few ads that came from men much older than Emily—men in their late 30s or early 40s—but Emily read right past those, as well as right past the ones that were posted by men with numerous children or by men who’d been injured in the war and needed a nursemaid more so than a companion. Emily had compassion for these men, and hoped that they’d find suitable spouses, but she could not entertain their advertisements, since, as she read them, she came to realize more and more what she wanted.
Emily was still young. She wanted to have children and start a family, a family of her own—and, the types of men just mentioned were not in any situation to accommodate that. Moreover, she wanted a spouse she could work with to make a beautiful life, not one she’d work for, like she worked for her aunt and uncle—and, obviously, a widower or injured man wanted, and needed, more than she was willing, or able, to provide at this time.
After scanning a few more advertisements that were mostly reiterations of the same, Emily finally found one that appeared promising. But, alas, she only got halfway through it when she realized it was placed by Kevin Ash of Montana—and, as that was the man to whom Mary had written, Emily stopped reading at that point and moved on to the next ad.
The next few advertisements were boring and uninteresting. They simply stated that a wife was needed and where she was needed, without much more detail. Emily decided not to bother herself with these ads—or with the ones that were written very poorly, with improper word usage or grammar. Not that she was a stickler for such things, but she just couldn’t imagine that a man who didn’t take time to correct his errors, or ensure against them, would make a very attentive husband.
Emily was just about to give up hope, when, lo and behold, she found one that sounded very promising—even more so than Kevin Ash’s advertisement.
I am a successful 27-year-old rancher in Ruby, Arizona, it read. I seek a sound-minded, Christian girl who would like to start a family and help me run my business every day. I will provide a good life for you and our children.
The ad hit the nail on the head exactly, as per what Emily desired in a husband. It had been placed by a man named Clarence Porter. And, truth of the matter was, that name hit the nail on the head almost as well as the words in the advertisement did. Emily’s father’s name had been Clarence—and, as she reread this Clarence’s ad, she couldn’t help but imagine that perhaps he, too, like her dearly departed Dad, would make an excellent, loving husband and
father.
Emily stood up, went over to her desk, and pulled out a piece of paper from the drawer. She sat down and pulled out her inkwell and quill, and mulled over her thoughts for a moment.
Greetings, Clarence, she wrote. My name is Emily Crawford, of New York. I am 23 and am an orphan currently living with my aunt and uncle.
Emily stopped writing and thought, again, for a moment. She didn’t know what she should—or should not—say in this letter, and didn’t want to include anything that indicated desperation.
Just as Emily bowed her head again to write something brighter, she heard a commotion from the living room.
“Oh, dear!” she heard her aunt yell.
A moment later, Aunt Clara called out for her.
“Emily!” she shouted. “Get yourself together and get out here. Your uncle’s dogs have made a mess in the living room, and you must clean it!”
Emily sighed and buried her head in her palm. “Alright, Aunt Clara,” she replied, defeated. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
Emily stared down at the piece of paper again, took her quill into her hand, and resumed writing. She no longer cared how “desperate” she sounded at this point.
I am a Christian in good standing, she went on writing. But I have been unable to pursue marriage and a family here in New York because of my strict guardians. All I want to do is be free of their control and start my own family with a loving husband.
“Emily!” Aunt Clara shouted again. “This mess is starting to stink up my house!”
“Just a moment, please,” Emily called back.
Emily glanced down at the paper again and reread her words. She shook her head, since they did, indeed, sound very desperate. But, then, she looked back up at her desk and had a great idea.
Two years ago, when Uncle Thomas retired from his position at the local bank, he received a commendation for his good work, and that commendation had been published in the newspaper, along with a photo of the “family.” Emily had saved the clipping of the photograph from the newspaper, as it was the only recent photo she had of herself, and had had it displayed on her desk.
Emily signed her letter, grabbed the clipping, folded both, and placed them in an envelope. Even if my words appear desperate, my image won’t, she thought to herself as she scrawled Clarence’s name and address across the front of the envelope.
“Emily!” Aunt Clara shouted… yet again. “Get out here now!”
“Coming, Aunt,” Emily replied. She hid the letter in the drawer, then left her room to clean up after the mastiff.
FIVE
“I’ve found one, old man,” Clarence Porter exclaimed, waving a piece of paper in front of his grandfather’s face. “I received this letter yesterday, in response to my post in the Matrimonial Times, and have written a reply asking a Miss Emily Crawford to marry me… So, rest assured, in time, I will have a wife and child.”
“Don’t count your chickens until they’ve hatched, boy,” Victor Porter replied, staring over his spectacles at his grandson. “I’m not going to… This Miss Crawford still has to accept your proposal. And, she still has to come out here, meet you, and actually marry you. And, then, still, you’ve got to get along well enough to have a child—or children.”
“Oh, she’ll come out here,” Clarence said. “I’m sure of it. She seems very unhappy where she is, with her aunt and uncle in New York.”
“Hmm,” Victor hawed. “And you think you will make her happy?”
“She wants a husband and family,” Clarence answered. “I’ve offered her that. And, to make the pot sweeter, I included a photograph of myself.”
Clarence wriggled his eyebrows and ran his had along his smooth, handsome face. He was a very attractive man and had rugged good looks that made many a woman swoon.
“Don’t be so high up on yourself,” Victor warned. “Your looks are one thing. But, your vanity and pride are another. You’ll have to overcome those if you ever expect to share your life with someone.”
Clarence nodded and remained silent. There was much else he wanted to say to his grandfather, but now was not the time to say it.
Meanwhile, back in New York, Emily sat through yet another quiet dinner with her aunt and uncle. It had been just over two weeks since she’d sent her letter to Clarence, and she wondered if he’d received it yet.
Of course, Emily didn’t tell Aunt Clara or Uncle Thomas about the letter she’d sent. And, she didn’t plan on telling them when, or if, she received a reply. In the two weeks or so since she’d sent her letter, life with them had been the same as it always was, though, now, finally, she realized that she could escape it—and, each day and night, when she prayed to her Lord, she prayed for that chance, for, if it came, by golly, she’d take it, even if it meant pulling the wool over Aunt Clara’s and Uncle Thomas’s eyes for a bit.
And, another two weeks later, that chance finally came. Emily went to town to run errands and stopped by the post office, where the postmaster smiled at her
as he handed over a letter that had just arrived for her that day.
Emily excitedly took the letter, thanked her elder, and then ran outside to read it. She still had other errands to run, but, for the time being, they weren’t nearly as important.
As soon as she opened the envelope, the first thing that Emily encountered was Clarence’s photograph—and, as she gazed at it, she, like many a woman before, and many a woman to come, swooned at the pleasing image. This man was very striking.
But, then, as excited as Emily was, she also felt worried. Why would such a handsome man need to turn to the Matrimonial Times to find a wife? she wondered. As she took his letter into her hand and unfolded it, Emily hoped, against the odds, that it didn’t contain something that’d disappoint her.
But, much to her surprise, as Emily read Clarence’s words, there was nothing disappointing or unseemly about them. In fact, his letter seemed very personable and inviting—and, it contained a marriage proposal, to boot!
Our settlement of Misty River sits outside of Ruby, and is home to very few unmarried women, Clarence wrote, answering Emily’s unexpressed questions. What women are here are not young or fair enough to bear my children. But you look like you will do quite well at that and would serve as a suitable helpmate and companion. Would you like to come out to Misty River and be my wife?
Emily read the letter over and over again. She felt light-headed and very happy. For the first time in a long time, she saw her future as wide open and full of possibility—and, no doubt, that vision was augmented by Clarence’s image, and both gave her an answer.
“Yes,” Emily said out loud, though there was no one there to hear her or understand, let alone appreciate, her statement. “Yes, Clarence Porter, I will come out to Misty River and be your wife.”
Emily folded the letter carefully and tucked it in her pocket. Later that night, after all her chores were done, she replied to it appropriately, then took it to the post the next morning.
SIX
One month later, Emily sat down to dinner with Aunt Clara and Uncle Thomas. It was a delicious meal of roasted mutton, potatoes, and pickled vegetables, and her guardians gluttonously chewed away at it, while Emily sat there wide-eyed and dreamy. Neither Aunt Clara nor Uncle Thomas thought much of Emily’s demeanor. They merely shrugged it off as they went about eating. Though, if they’d taken the time to read her more carefully, they would have realized that her demeanor actually meant something.
Unbeknownst to them, this was to be the last supper they’d enjoy—or endure—with their niece.
After receiving Clarence’s letter a month earlier, Emily responded and accepted his proposal. Then, approximately three weeks later, another letter from Clarence arrived for her—and, this one contained information on the travel plans he’d made for her to come out to Arizona.
There was a train scheduled to leave New York before dawn the next morning, and Emily was going to be on it. As she sat there, watching her relations eat their food like starved animals, Emily felt a tinge of sadness that she kept her plans a secret from them for so long, and, for a split-second, she thought about telling them.
But, then, before Emily could say anything, her Aunt did.
“Did you hear about Charles Sinclair?” Aunt Clara asked as she slurped down a succulent piece of meat.
“No,” Emily replied. “What about him?”
“He’s asked Ann Keller’s sister, Julie, to marry him,” Aunt Clara replied with a crooked grin.
In that instant, Emily forgot all about what “sadness” she felt about deceiving her aunt and uncle and was reminded of the heavy hand they lorded over her. She knew that, if she said anything about her plans, they’d surely do something to stop her—so, she decided not to say anything about her plans and keep holding tightly to her secret. It was only a matter of time now until she was free of them.
“Well, good luck and best wishes—to her,” Emily said, poking her fork at a potato. “Perhaps, one day, I, too, will be so lucky as to marry.”
“Perhaps,” her aunt replied with a grunt of unmistakable, undeniable, uncalled-for laughter. That laugh hurt Emily very badly and reminded her, yet again, how she was making the right decision and doing the right thing, all things considered.
After dinner was done, Emily cleared the table and did a few chores before she decided to call it a night and “go to bed.” On the way to her room, she passed Uncle Thomas and Aunt Clara as the loafed lazily in the living room.
“Emily, come here for a second,” Uncle Thomas called out.
Emily turned around and did as she’d been instructed.
“Yes, sir?” she asked.
“Never mind what your aunt says,” he whispered, taking a sip of plum cordial. “I’m sure you will find a husband one day—and, I hope you’ll be very happy.”
Emily smiled, nodded, and thanked her uncle. Then, she went to her room. Again, she felt guilty about her leaving; but, again, she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it.
Emily sat and stewed in her room for a few hours, until she knew Aunt Clara and Uncle Thomas were fast asleep. At that point, she reached under her bed and retrieved the small suitcase she’d packed three days earlier. It contained only the bare essentials she needed for travel and a few days’ worth of clothing, which were only a fraction of what she owned already but were more than enough for her to start anew.
As Emily held her suitcase in her hand, she thought of the kind words Uncle Thomas had said before she went to her room and was revisited by her feelings of guilt. He, at least, deserved some type of explanation, since he’d been considerably more considerate to, and of, her over the years.
With that in mind, Emily retrieved her writing implements and set them out on her desk, then jotted down a quick note. It was addressed to no one in particular, though it was intended for Uncle Thomas.
I’ve gone out West to get married and start a family, she wrote. I probably won’t ever see you again, but I thank you for letting me live with you these last eight years.
After signing the letter, Emily placed it on her bed, where anyone who’d come looking for her would be sure to find it. She hoped, in her heart of hearts, that, if Aunt Clara found it, she’d share the information with her husband. But, given how her Aunt had treated the dough balls Charles dropped off some weeks ago, as well as Charles’s visit in general, Emily highly doubted it.
No bother, though. Emily could not be burdened by thinking about her past anymore. She was now ready for her future—and, that night, when she walked out of her aunt and uncle’s house for the last time, she made her first real step toward it.
SEVEN
Emily awoke with a start, to the sound of a shrill cry. It was the middle of the night, and she was surrounded mostly by darkness, and it took her a few seconds to register where she was and what she was doing.
“Keep that baby quiet!” another female passenger on the train shouted. “The rest of us are trying to sleep.”
Emily shook her head and turned to see the woman—and child—who’d caused the clamor.
“I’m sorry,” the young mother said, more to Emily than to the other woman. Emily appraised the situation and saw that the mother had not one, but five children, with her and was cradling the youngest of them, who was still an infant. She nodded her head, then turned back to her seat. But, as she did, she saw another of the woman’s children—a young boy who couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7—shaking and crying.
“Are you cold?” Emily asked, reaching to unbutton her sweater to share with the boy.
“No, Miss,” the child answered. “I’m just scared. I don’t like being on this train. It’s too big and moves too fast—and, it smells awful, and the people on it aint’ too nice. I can’t wait until we’re off it. I really, really don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” Emily replied. “But, you want to know what I do to make myself feel better?”
The boy looked at her curiously.
&nb
sp; “I close my eyes and imagine I’m somewhere else,” she said. “Like at a Christmas party or church festival… Or, I sing hymns in my head. You just have to do something to keep your mind distracted—then, your time on this train will pass much more quickly.”
“Alright,” the boy sighed. “But we’ve already been on this thing for two days.”
“Well, child, I’ve been on it for twelve,” Emily replied.
“And, that’s how I kept myself busy.”
“You’ve been on this train for twelve days?” the boy asked, widening his eyes as if he simply could not believe it.
“Sure have,” Emily answered.
The boy smiled back at her. “I’ll try it then,” he said, closing his eyes.
Just as Emily was about to close her eyes again, the boy spoke up with a question.
“Where are your children?” he asked.
“I don’t have any… yet,” Emily answered. The child looked at her with a confused expression on his face, which made Emily giggle. He was just a wee little thing and, obviously, couldn’t grasp the social convention that women and children rode in separate cars than men, or the concept that not all of those women had children.
“I’m taking this train to Arizona to meet my husband,” Emily explained. “Then, once we’re married and settled into life together, we’ll have children of our own.”
“Oh, okay,” the boy answered, though he was still clearly lost by what Emily had said.
“I hope you and your husband have nice kids,” the boy added a moment later, “‘cause you’ll make a nice Mama.”
Emily felt a warmth in her heart that spread throughout her entire body. “Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes.
Within a few minutes, Emily was fast asleep. She’d been lulled to slumber by thoughts of the man—and the life—that awaited her in Arizona, and, like the boy had intimated, she’d envisioned her role as a mother. They were comforting, beautiful thoughts, and they lead to comforting, beautiful dreams.
Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set Page 29