She would never find a place of her own, she thought sadly. Thinking of what Drew had suggested she hoped that someone would marry her. She knew how the men here saw her: a poor widow with children to raise.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw worry lines on her forehead, but apart from that she was still as pretty as she used to be when life had been good. Her raven black hair tumbled down in waves to her waist; her pale blue eyes the color of the sky. She had prominent cheekbones and a small nose. Her lips were red and swollen from biting them, a nervous habit she had gotten into recently.
She knew how men looked at her. She was only twenty-five, not an old widow. Some would introduce themselves to her but would hesitate after learning she had three kids and a dead husband. None of these men understood the circumstances surrounding her. They would rather judge her than acknowledge that she was bringing up her kids alone, working in a factory that didn’t pay her enough to survive.
A knock on her door brought her attention back to the present. She went to open the door and was surprised to see Isabelle standing there.
“How are you, my dear?” She asked watching her face closely. Bethany stepped away allowing her to come inside.
“I’m fine,” Bethany replied in a small voice.
“I know you’re not.”
Bethany squirmed under her gaze. They had become friends, sort of, since that day she asked for her help. Isabelle was too kind to her. Looking out for her in the factory and giving her food even when she had not asked for it.
“How did you know where I live?”
Isabelle strutted into the living room, taking off her bonnet. There was a newspaper in her hand.
“I asked around. But there’s a more important question you should be asking.” She waved the newspaper in front of her eyes and sat down on the sofa.
“What do you mean? What am I supposed to do with a newspaper?”
“Oh silly, you’re supposed to be reading it. Remember when you told me a month ago you thought you should marry, that it would solve all your problems. Well I’ve found just the thing right here.”
“You mean the mail order bride ads?” Bethany asked making a funny face.
“Come on! You can’t judge these men without knowing who they are. Someone here could be the one for you.”
“Even if someone is I don’t think they’d want to marry me.”
“Don’t say that. Not every man is the same, my dear. There must be someone here who would accept you as you are, with your children.” Isabelle unfolded the newspaper and handed it to Bethany. “Read them and tell me which one you like. I’ll help you write a reply.”
Looking down at the ads section, she started to read. There were a few widowers looking for wives and a few bachelors as well. Her eyes paused at one of the listings.
Matthew Russell, Age 27, Oregon
I’m seeking to marry a woman of beautiful strength and character, someone who is responsible, someone who can be happy living on a peaceful farm with me. I’m what you could call a pioneer who just moved to the West. If you wish to get to know me you can write to me at my given address below.
P.S: I’ll be giving away a hundred bucks to the woman I find is the one for me.
This man is the one, she thought. It would be nice living far away from this place. And she needed the money. But time was running out and she had no idea when he would marry her or how long the journey would take to Oregon, or if he would even reply to her. Looking over at Isabelle, she said, “I have found someone named Matthew but he lives in Oregon. That is quite far away. If I write to him and he shows an interest in me, I don’t think I would be able to escape Richie and the money I owe him before I can convince Matthew.”
“Beth, darling, be patient. You have a hundred dollars saved already. Talk to Mr. Fitch and he’ll let you pay in installments.” Looking at the ad, she exclaimed, “Well well, Matthew sure sounds like some cowboy. And he’s giving away money! If he marries you, you can pay back Richie with that, considering Richie lets you off the hook for the time it takes for you to get it.”
“I hope so.”
“Just write him back. Tell him everything so he knows you’re not lying just to get his money.”
“I’ll think of what to write and send it first thing in the morning.” She smiled at Isabelle then hugged her. “Thank you!”
***
Tucking the twins in for the night, Bethany crept quietly out of their room and shut the door. Going to her bedroom, she changed into her night gown then sat down at her desk. With Matthew’s ad in front of her, she took out a piece of paper from the drawer and started to write:
Dear Mr. Russell,
This letter is in regards to the advertisement you placed. My name is Bethany Williams and I live in Lawrence, Kansas. I’m a twenty five-year-old widow with three children. Last fall I lost my husband due to an unfortunate event. He was en route to Europe on a ship that was attacked by pirates. Since then I have been raising my children on my own. My oldest son Drew is five while my twins Alice and James just turned three. It hasn’t been easy these past few months. I’ve been working morning shifts at a garment factory near my home which, frankly speaking, does not pay me well enough. I’ve been scraping by as of late. I read your ad and I felt drawn to it. I believe I can fulfill the things you ask for in a wife. Being a mother has taught me to be responsible and headstrong. I have no problem living on a farm. In fact, it would be a positive change for my children and me to settle in the West. I would like to keep corresponding but I need an answer soon. I do not intend to stay here as I owe some money to my employer who I fear will not let me go anywhere without paying him back. If you are interested then please reply to me on the return address stated on the envelope. Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Bethany Williams
Reading it over one last time, she folded the letter and placed it inside an envelope. She wrote down the addresses on each side then sealed it shut. She would post it before going to work, she thought. Lying down on her bed she instantly fell asleep.
She was running a little late to work the next morning as she made a stop at the post office. Reaching her sewing table in the stitching section, she sat down to start on her day’s work. Her mind was on the letter she had posted and the money situation with Richie. She had a hundred dollars with her that she had saved from the loan itself. It was stupid of her to take out a loan of two-hundred dollars that she had to return so soon. The deadline was two weeks away. If she couldn’t pay Richie the full amount by then, she’d be charged a fine of twenty dollars.
As lunch break approached, Bethany spotted Mr. Fitch making one of his rounds. Her hands felt clammy as she got up and called out to him, “Mr. Fitch, may I have a word with you?”
Turning at the sound of her voice, Mr. Fitch adjusted his spectacles and replied, “Bethany, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I can pay you back half of the money now and the other half later. You could extend my deadline perhaps.”
Mr. Fitch seemed to take his time to reply as he walked out of the factory. Bethany had no choice but to walk out with him as he headed toward the main office. Not wanting to run into Richie, Bethany hesitated as she stepped inside.
It seemed quiet, she noticed, her gaze fleeting nervously toward the door to Richie’s office. Mr. Fitch went on to sit at his desk and gestured for her to take a seat.
“That is not for me to decide. I cannot just extend the deadline if you pay me half of what you borrowed, which would be what, a hundred dollars if I remember correctly?”
“Yes. Can you talk to Mr. Richard about it? Do you think he’ll-“
Her words were squashed by loud voices and shouts coming from behind the door.
“But sir, your tax evasions have not gone unnoticed. The authorities are constantly badgering us to show our files. We have orders from above, the head tax collector, to keep them hidden but they won’t be for long.
He’s been fired and someone else has replaced him.”
“CAN’T YOU PEOPLE DO ANYTHING RIGHT, YOU INCESSANT HOARDERS?! I DO NOT NEED ANY MORE REMINDERS FROM YOU LOT. I CAN NOT PAY THE TAXES. JUST GET OUT AND LEAVE ME BE!”
Horrified at his outburst, Bethany stood up as the door to his room opened. A young tax officer scurried out of the room, looking shaken, barely looking at them as he left the building. Feeling a bit terrified, she made to follow the man out but was stopped by his snippy tone.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“Mr. Fitch and I were just done talking. My shift is finished so I’m headed home.” Keeping her voice calm, she breathed through her nose, not making eye contact with Richie who had now emerged from his room.
“Why don’t you come inside? I don’t suppose you came all the way here to talk to Mr. Fitch.” He emphasized his words at her.
Looking over at Mr. Fitch she realized he was just as helpless as her. Stepping into his room, she coughed at the smell of cigar surrounding her. “Actually I did, but he said it isn’t up to him to decide.”
“That is correct. It isn’t. ”
“Well then I guess I should go on with what I came to ask. I want to pay back half of the loan now so that I can get my deadline extended,” she said warily and added “if you would allow it.”
Avoiding his eyes, she made to sit down but was stopped by Richie as she felt him grasp her arm tightly. Alarmed, she struggled to free herself but his grip was firm.
“Let go of me!”
“What is it with everyone today? Thinking I would agree to your wishes.” Gritting his teeth, he let go of her, pushing her away as his eyes raked over her body. “I’m sorry to tell you this but there’s no way I would agree to that.”
“I c-can’t pay you back all I took. I need more time.”
“You should have thought about it before you signed that agreement, you foolish girl.” His eyes darkened as he closed in on her again. Bethany stepped back, her body itching to escape his presence. “Of course, we could make a deal.”
Bethany did not want to know but asked anyway, hoping there might be a way out. “What kind of a deal?’
“I’ll relieve you of your dues if you become my mistress,” he said, a nasty smirk playing on his lips.
Feeling disgusted at his offer, she slapped him hard across his face. There was anger in her voice as she spoke, “I would never accept that.”
“Careful! I wouldn’t have done that if I were you.”
Ignoring his words, she escaped from his room, wishing to never see his face again.
Chapter 7
Matthew was crouched down low on the ground to assess the soil. Having delivered the first batch of sweet potatoes to the Townsend brothers, he decided to plant both the huckleberries and blueberries. The berry plants would take a couple of years to bear the fruit but would be worth the wait.
Standing up, he ordered his men to enrich the soil with composted leaves before planting them. He was about to head back inside through the backdoor when he saw Leroy rushing toward him from the sidewalk around the house.
“Sir, there’s a mailman waiting out front.”
He made his way over to where the mailman stood with his horse beside him. He was carrying a large satchel on his back. Noticing Matthew approaching, he asked; “Are you Mr. Russell?”
“Yes, it’s me. What do you have for me?”
Handing him two envelopes, he said, “There’s one from Nebraska and the other from Kansas.”
“Kansas?” he repeated to himself. Had someone really written to him from the bride ad he had placed?
Taking the letters, he reached into his pant pockets and gave a small tip to the mailman who had ridden all the way from town to deliver them to him. Matthew asked him to wait and went inside to reply to the letters. Opening his father’s letter first, he quickly skimmed over his words. His father had written about the ranch back at home, how he missed him there, how glad he was to learn that Matthew’s farm on the French Prairie was up and running. Matthew took out some paper and quickly wrote a short message, telling his father about harvesting his first yield and plantation of the berries. He folded it and put it inside a small envelope, then opened the other letter addressed to him.
“Bethany Williams,” he read, “lives in Kansas. A twenty-five years old widow with three children.” That’s something he hadn’t expected. He continued to read. This woman was raising her children on her own. It must be difficult, he thought, her words tugging at his heart as he read about her troubles with saving money. He could tell she was being as honest as she could. A small picture of Bethany fell from the envelope in his hand. Bending to pick it up, he stopped and stared, admiring her face. She looked so young and pretty. Not wanting to waste a second, he picked up his quill and started to write:
Dear Bethany,
I deeply sympathize for the loss of your husband. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose someone you love while being so young. I believe you when you say you can fulfill what I’m looking for in a wife. Let me tell you that I do not have any problem with the fact that I would be taking in your children when I marry you. I know how rushed it must seem to you, but I have been alone here for the past few months and I long for a wife to keep me company and share what I’ve built here. Your children will be a wonderful addition to this house. It needs life and love and the touch of a woman to make it feel like a home.
Coming to the matter regarding your loan, I agree with you. You should leave immediately before something untoward happens. I do not know your employer but I do know that it isn’t safe for you there. Men can be quite vile. Just be careful when you decide to leave. I am quite serious about pursuing our marriage. I know you won’t get here soon. The Oregon Trail you’ll be taking will be long and hard. I hope you’ll be patient as you have been so far. I promise when you reach here I will do anything to keep you safe from any danger you might face.
Sincerely,
Matthew
Satisfied with what he had written, he took out a picture of himself and his father from his drawer then placed it in with the letter in another envelope, scribbling the addresses. Hurrying outside, he took both the letters to the mailman, apologizing for making him wait. The mailman shrugged off his apology and thanked him for the tip. Climbing on his horse he tipped his cap then rode off away from the Prairie.
***
6 weeks later
Alice and James slept soundly, their little snores keeping Bethany awake inside the wagon. Drew was awake, his eyes scanning the vast lands passing by. It had been weeks since they had left Lawrence. Bethany had received a letter from Matthew. At first, she couldn’t believe it, thinking it was a hallucination. Then she’d opened it, reading his words that all seemed too good to be true. She had no way of knowing who this man was. She had left her town in the middle of the night with few belongings and the money she had saved. Drew did not make a fuss about leaving as much as the twins did, which was a relief to Bethany. He understood why they were leaving. It would be a wonderful change, she thought. Taking out the picture of the man she would wed, she looked at him and wondered what it would be like living with him. Matthew had sent a picture of him and an older man, who seemed to be his father. They looked quite similar. The only difference was the color of their hair. Matthew’s hair seemed lighter, as though it was blonde while his father’s was darker. He had quite striking features, she observed, blushing at herself for staring at his face every day. Drew had caught her watching it when they first left and had asked who he was. Bethany told him it was someone who was going to marry her, someone who would be his father soon. Ever since then, Drew had been excited to reach Oregon.
The wagon seemed to be slowing down. Bethany thought it must be a stop to get some food and water. Looking out through the window she noticed they weren’t in the middle of a road. They had reached a stretch of land that looked to be a farm. The wagon man shouted from where he sat, “We’re here,
madam. This is the French Prairie.”
Bethany woke the twins, who were agitated after having to sleep in the wagon seat for weeks. Drew climbed outside, walking along a path that led to a house in the corner. The fields stretched far and wide, surrounding the house.
Stepping outside with the twins, Bethany walked up the path behind Drew who seemed to be running toward the house.
“Drew, slow down!”
Nearing the house, she saw men working in the fields. One of them walked over toward Drew. Bethany instantly recognized him. It was Matthew. He bent down and ruffled Drew’s hair, talking to him, but his gaze darted from Drew and settled on her and the twins. He was staring at her unabashedly and walked toward her, closing the gap between them. His blonde hair was windswept from working outside. There was sweat on his forehead which he wiped with his sleeve, looking gloriously handsome under the bright sun. He held out his hand and waited for her.
Matthew had been busy guiding his men in the field when he heard the sounds of a wagon nearing the house. Looking at it, he suddenly realized it was her. She’d made it. The six weeks had been tough, waiting for her, constantly staring at her picture in his hand. A young boy ran up the path toward Matthew. He recognized the boy as Drew.
Drew was looking up at him adoringly as he asked, “Are you the man in the picture? You look an awful lot like him.”
Laughing, Matthew said, “I am him. And you must be Drew.”
Romance: Western Mail Order Bride Bethany's Love -Clean Christian Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series) Page 3