Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  The only time that Lilly felt as capable as the next human being was when she was milking. Squatting, her body was balanced and anyone looking at her would admire her dark brown hair, held in a braid at the back of her head, and her round pleasant face.

  She finished milking the cow, grabbed the frame that ran across the milking stall, and pulled herself to her feet.

  Lilly lifted the bucket full of rich, creamy milk with care, trying to spill as little milk as possible. With a slow gait, she made her way out of the outhouse. She crossed the tiny yard that separated the cowshed from the main house and pushed the kitchen door open. She did not expect to hear the familiar voices that carried from the front room.

  She made out Violet’s soft speech pattern and smiled to herself. Lilly loved it when her older sister came calling. Her smile changed to a frown when her second born sister Margaret’s loud voice cut through. Although she loved both her sisters equally, she found Margaret’s personality stifling. She liked to talk, Margaret did, and more often than not, the words that came from her mouth tended to hurt somebody.

  Lilly limped into the kitchen and placed the bucket of milk on the wooden counter top. Crossing the kitchen to the door that connected it to the front room, Lilly paused when she heard her name mentioned.

  “You must be out of your senses Violet, to imagine that any man in this world would want to marry our Lilly,” Margaret said, her words slicing Lilly’s heart like a sharp knife.

  “You will not speak of our Lilly that way,” their mother’s voice rang out firmly. “The Lord has a purpose for each and every one of us and it is not up to any of us to judge one another.”

  “I’m not judging, I am just pointing out what all of you refuse to admit. I think Violet’s idea is foolish, that’s all.”

  “Lilly has a chance just like any other girl. Besides, there’s never any guarantee with marriage, is there?” Violet replied.

  Just then, Lilly heard heavy footsteps making their way towards the kitchen. Her father, a short smiley man, walked in. He was not smiling—instead he looked sad. As their gaze caught and held, a myriad of emotions crossed his face. He did not say a word; instead, he patted her head, gave her a weak smile, and then left the house through the back door.

  Lilly braced herself and entered the living room, more aware than ever of her slow gait, and the way her body dipped and rose with every step. Three pairs of eyes turned to watch her, making Lilly more conscious than ever that her left leg was almost a foot shorter than her right one.

  “Lilly!” Violet called out and stood up to hug her.

  Lilly’s warmth was muted as she still smarted from the snippet of conversation she had heard. She hated to be discussed as though she was a problem that needed to be solved. Her parents, especially her mother, had drummed into her from when she was a little girl that she was no different from the others and that Lord loved her as she was.

  To find her mother and sisters discussing her in such a manner left a bad taste in Lilly’s mouth. She and Margaret exchanged muted greetings.

  “Sit down Lilly, there’s something I want to ask of you,” Violet said.

  Lilly chose the furthest seat from the three women and sat at the edge, knowing that what was to come, was not necessarily something she wanted to hear.

  “Please give what I am about to tell you a great deal of thought before answering,” Violet said, her eyes locked with Lilly’s.

  Lilly nodded.

  “My friend Hannah recently got married to a man in the West and I just received a letter from her. She is happy and living on a ranch.”

  Lilly was lost. What did this Hannah have to do with Lilly’s life?

  “Well, she got her gentleman through a matrimonial agency and as I read her letter, I thought of you.” Violet looked at her eagerly. “Remember how as little girls we both dreamed of marriage and having our own families and homes?”

  Lilly nodded, her mouth and throat suddenly dry. Violet had already made her part of the dream come true when she got married a while back.

  “Lilly, I think that dream can come true for you as well. I’ve prayed about it and spoken to Mother, and she too thinks like I do. Won’t you give it a try? If I weren’t married myself, I surely would. Why, the descriptions of the ranch and Hannah’s new life sound positively perfect.” Violet’s enthusiastic speech was cut short by Margaret’s interjection.

  “Hogwash. Don’t go making a fool of yourself Lilly. Marriage even for a normal young woman is nothing to sniff at. It’s hard work, so imagine what it would be like for you?”

  Lilly cringed slightly at the words ‘normal young woman’. But it was undeniable that no matter how much Margaret’s words hurt, the truth was that she was not a normal young woman.

  “Speak for yourself,” Violet replied, as she turned around to look at her sibling. Her voice was like cold steel. “I think marriage’s lovely and there’s nothing that you and I possess that Lilly doesn’t.”

  “She’s disabled! I’m not,” Margaret snapped.

  “Hush girls. Margaret, mind your tongue. Lilly is not disabled. She is as the Lord wanted her to be,” their mother said.

  “Not all of us are married to drunks,” Violet muttered.

  Margaret’s chest rose up and down in agitation. Her thin lips tightened and she folded her hands into fists.

  Lilly felt a little sorry for her sister. It was no secret that her husband drank more than other men and was known to move from job to job. Silence descended on the group and Lilly realized that they were all waiting for her to speak.

  What could she say? Sure, she had harbored a secret desire for marriage but over time, she had accepted that the Lord’s will would prevail.

  “I appreciate your thinking of me Violet, but Margaret’s right. What man would want to marry me?”

  Lilly saw the look of triumph that Margaret shot their older sister.

  “You’re the prettiest of the three of us Lilly, and your leg does not stop you from doing any work. Why, you are the hardest working person that I know,” Violet declared.

  “I agree with Violet. You have always been the hardest working of all my daughters,” their mother added.

  “Men seek able-bodied—”Margaret started to say.

  “Stop it Margaret!” Mrs. Gable’s voice rang like a trumpet, making Lilly jump with fright.

  A gentle and God-loving woman, it was rare to hear their mother raise her voice in anger. Looking at her now, Lilly felt grateful to her mother for the way she always stood up for her. She sighed. How wonderful it would be for her mother to know that like Hannah of the Bible, she was settled happily somewhere in the West in her own home.

  “I’ll need to pray about it,” Lilly simply said when prodded further.

  As much as she believed Violet that there was a man out there who would accept her for who she was, Lilly knew the final word rested with the Lord. Only after praying about it would she know whether her destiny lay somewhere on the other side of the country.

  But despite her sensible thoughts, a small grain of hope had taken root in her soul.

  TWO

  Joanna Hunter looked at the growing pile of letters on her small desk and sighed. She should have been happy with how fast her matchmaking business was growing, but she wasn’t. There simply weren’t enough women wanting to go out to the West. Just then, her nineteen year old assistant, Ada, shuffled in, clutching a pile of letters.

  “More letters?”

  Ada nodded glumly.

  “We should match you with one of these gentlemen to lighten our work,” Joanna commented casually.

  Ada stopped in her tracks, her brown eyes wide with shock. Joanna watched mesmerized as a pink color emerged from Ada’s neck and steadily rose up her plump cheeks. After a couple of seconds or so, she seemed to gather herself.

  “No, absolutely not! I will never get married!” Ada hissed, her tone filled with vehemence.

  “I was just teasing you Ada,” Joanna replied,
taken aback by her assistant’s violent reaction.

  Usually Ada was as quiet as a mouse and when she spoke, it was in a soft hushed voice. If her reaction was anything to go by, she was yet another wounded soul.

  It was not for her to pry into Ada’s past, just as she herself did not like it when people asked her personal, private questions.

  Ada had come into her life two years ago, desperate for a job. The business was just starting off, and Joanna had not had a need for an assistant. As it was, the little money she had been making was just enough to cover her own needs. The dead look in the girl’s eyes had stopped Joanna from telling her the truth—that she could barely afford to employ someone. She knew right then that if she did not give her a job, thoughts of Ada would trouble her conscience.

  Thankfully, it had worked out, and after seeing that her personality was pleasing, Joanna had invited Ada to live in the second of the two bedrooms that had remained empty ever since the death of Joanna’s parents.

  The two women fitted well together. They were like two squirrels that had hibernated for the winter. They rarely socialized and visitors never called, and Joanna liked it that way. When they finished their work for the day, Ada usually returned to her room, while Joanna sat in the front room reading the weekly newspapers. Joanna liked knowing that there was someone else in the house, while retaining her privacy. The world was like a fire, if you ventured too far in, you got burned, and she had no intention of getting burned again.

  Joanna’s response was just what Ada needed, and her stiff shoulders relaxed and her face returned to its normal pale shade. She sat down on the chair opposite Joanna and divided the pile of letters into two bunches.

  On one side of her desk, Joanna kept the letters from the women, which now numbered three, a paltry number when compared to the men who wanted a bride. Joanna picked up the three letters she had set aside the other day. These men would not be happy with her response, but Joanna knew that she was doing the right thing.

  The reputation of matching ladies with honest men is what had helped her agency grow. As soon as she sensed that a man was hiding information from her, or her instincts screamed at her, she dropped the man from her list, without a single thought to the ten dollars that she would have earned as commission. She could smell a conman from a mile off. The three letters would contain the same information. The Lexington Agency was not in a position to find these applicants brides and Joanna wished them all the best for the future.

  Joanna took her bunch of the day’s correspondence and read through them. They were the usual requests from men out West seeking wives. One of the letters caught her attention though. It was another correspondence from Charles Jones. In a very nice way, he was following up after a long silence from Joanna, asking if she had found a suitable partner for him.

  Her head pounded from the strain of carrying the burdens of these lonely men. Failure on her part meant that there was a man out West, plagued by loneliness day after day. She had not learned to separate her work from her own emotions.

  Charles had especially struck a chord in her. He was just the kind of man she herself would have wished for, before tragedy struck. She glanced at her left arm, her empty sleeve swinging back and forth by itself. The long arm of her dress concealed a monstrosity that Joanna preferred to keep hidden within the confines of her house. As much as she covered it up, anyone with a discerning eye could tell that her arm was missing.

  She read the short letter again. He spoke of his deep belief that God would lead Joanna to the right woman for him. He had even quoted a bible verse from the book of John, chapter fifteen, verse seven:

  If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you

  If only she herself possessed such faith, Joanna thought to herself. Another glance to her missing arm, and she pushed such thoughts away. She handed the letter to her assistant. Ada proceeded to read it, her eyes moving back and forth, as she took in the contents of the letter.

  “What shall you tell him?”

  Joanna rubbed her forehead. “Truthfully, I don’t know,” she replied. ‘I’d hate to tell him that I haven’t found a match for him yet.”

  “Perhaps you can give it a few days?” Ada suggested.

  Joanna saw the wisdom of that and nodded. She still had hope that a recent prospect, Lilly Gable, would make a perfect match for Mr. Jones. Her sister, Violet, had spoken very highly of her.

  If that lead nowhere, a couple more days would give her time to formulate a way to break the disappointing news to him. She put Charles’s letter aside and started penning another letter to Violet.

  THREE

  Lilly gathered the leaves and hay droppings into one large pile. She limped into the cowshed, got a sack, and used it to ferry the trash to the corner they used to burn it. She lit a match and watched in satisfaction as the pile went up in flames. With that done, she limped back to the house to prepare the household for the day.

  Each evening, Lilly’s father drew water from the well and filled the drum in the kitchen so that there was always a fresh supply of milk. To make things simpler for her parents, Lilly woke up before dawn, milked the three cows and prepared breakfast for their father, before he went to his job as a store clerk.

  Theirs was a comfortable existence. They did not have much but they made do with what the Lord had blessed them with and were grateful for it. Lilly washed her hands by the sink and put more wood in the stove. As she worked, she allowed her mind to stray to the conversation with Violet weeks ago.

  Since then, Lilly had not heard any more of it, though Violet had called several more times. She was loath to ask, in case her sister had decided that it was a bad idea. Lilly put the kettle for tea to boil and while it did, she quickly prepared the pancake mix. Just then, she heard the sound of her mother’s feet as she shuffled into the kitchen.

  “You really do spoil me Lilly, I can’t seem to rouse myself early knowing that you’ll see to everything,” her mother said, smiling gently.

  “You deserve it mother and I am glad to be of use. Now sit, the pancakes are just about ready. You can be warming your throat with a hot mug of tea.”

  “Thank you my dear.”

  Lilly’s father joined them in the kitchen and silently ate his breakfast. Lilly watched her parents and thought how heart-wrenching it would be to leave them. Another part of her heart was desperate for a change. Sometimes in bed, when waiting for sleep to come, Lilly let her mind drift to that elusive other life.

  She saw herself bustling in her own kitchen and serving her husband, whose face was not quite clear in her thoughts. She longed for that life with a desperation that shook her and left her hands and feet trembling. It was foolish to hope, but she couldn’t seem to convince her heart how impossible the dream was.

  A few hours into the day, when Lilly and her mother were in the front room sewing companionably, Violet came bouncing in, her youngest, a seven month old baby boy named Japheth straddled on her back. By the twinkle of her eyes and the glances she threw at Lilly, Lilly knew there must be some news.

  “My, hasn’t he grown big?” Lilly crooned, unstrapping the boy from his mother’s back.

  Lilly fussed over the baby, tickling his fat toes until his face creased into giggles.

  “I can’t stay for long as I have a lot of chores today but I had to pop in,” Violet said breathlessly. “Lilly, remember our conversation a couple of weeks ago, about the mail order agency?”

  Lilly nodded, her nerves tight with anticipation.

  “Well I wrote to the lady who owns the agency, a Miss Joanna Hunter, and she has the very man for you. His name is Charles Jones and he is from the rocky mountains of Montana. He is not searching for a perfect woman, rather a kind hearted, hardworking Christian woman, and Lilly, that’s you!”

  Like hot water in a pot beginning to boil, Lilly felt a swarm of emotions rise from somewhere inside her and erupt into bubbles of joy which spread to every part
of her being. She clapped her hands together and said a little prayer. Thank you Lord, thank you Father. Lilly’s eyes flicked open and she turned to her mother.

  Instead of the joy she expected to find there, she found her mother’s forehead creased with worry.

  “I heard that the rocky mountains of Montana are a very remote place with little or no civilization,” she said.

  “Joanna Hunter did tell me to warn Lilly of that. Many of the comforts that you’re used to here are lacking in that part of the country,” Violet said, her voice somber.

  How could Lilly tell her mother and sister that none of that mattered? That as long as the Lord blessed her with a husband and her own home, all the other things faded in comparison? Lilly was not afraid of hard work and in fact, she liked her days busy until nighttime, when she lay her head on the bed.

  “The Lord will watch over me mother, I have absolute faith in him,” Lilly assured her mother.

  The worried look did not leave her Mama’s face. Lilly glanced at her shorter leg and felt the unspoken question that lay between them. No one dared ask it, especially Lilly who was not ready to have her dream destroyed even before it came to be.

  FOUR

  Lilly had not been prepared for the isolation and beauty that was Montana. The train had gone as far as North Dakota and from there; she and two women had taken a stagecoach. Lilly sat on the end of the three-seat bench, and opposite her sat a petrified-looking woman with a three-year-old child on her lap.

  She had never seen such wilderness devoid of human occupation. Unbroken mountain peaks rose into the spring sky, with rocks dotting the land as far as the human eye could see. A part of Lilly was excited at what she saw, but at the edge of that excitement was a growing fear. The four other men who made up the passengers in the stagecoach spoke in whispers of attacks by native Indians.

  Lilly clutched at her bible tightly and murmured a prayer reminding the Lord that she was in His hands. It was as far removed from her home state of Pennsylvania as anything she could have imagined. Once or twice, a wagon passed them by, the stagecoach having to go to the very edge of the rocky road to give way.