“Why don’t we give it a try, on a small scale?” Cal asked.
“Okay boss, I’ll see what is available,” Clay said.
After two weeks, Cal began checking the mail often, hoping for a letter from number 4694.
During the fourth week, he received another plain envelope. He opened it immediately, but found it to be from a widow in the Midwest looking for a husband.
I may have been too late. She probably got more than one letter and someone else sounded better. That’s a shame. I really was looking forward to a correspondence from her. I guess it’s back to the drawing board for me.
He went back to the newspaper and the other two ads he had circled, and tried to decide which of the two to write. He decided to write to the widow with the boy and girl. Maybe my letter to 4694 just didn’t impress her enough to spend the postage stamp. I’ll try not to get as personal on this one. He sat at the table, choosing his words carefully. Dear number 3270, I am a a lonely bachelor in one of the western territories…
He had a letter waiting for him when he dropped off the new letter. He sat on the bench outside the post office
It began…
Dear number 6208…
chapter Nine
Jennie Answers
Cal’s letter from Jennie…
“I am in receipt of your most welcome letter. You have certainly led an interesting life. I cannot imagine all of the places you have been and worked. I’m afraid my world is limited to a smaller than twenty mile circle. Maybe someday I can expand my horizons.
It was sort of funny what you said about describing oneself in such a few words. I said the very same thing when I saw my ad.. My life in four lines. To answer your questions, we raise cotton for the market. I also have a small vegetable garden that furnishes a good bit of our fare. I am a good cook and can do wonders with a few vegetables. We rarely, if ever, have beef. We do keep hogs, so pork is also a staple. My son is a hard worker. He is one of those people born to the soil. We share crop with the bank, that is, since we lost the land to them, we still live on the farm and raise the crop. They get one-half of it. If the weevils get to the cotton or we don’t get enough rain, we have a tough time of it. Fortunately, my late husband’s family lives close by, and they help us out if it gets too difficult.
I like to sew and make all of my clothes and those of my son. I also sew for the ladies in town to bring in a little cash.
I have never met a miner. There have been a few gold mines in the area, but nothing of the nature I’ve heard about in the west. How exciting it must be to find a small rock that is valuable. I get goose bumps just thinking about it. I can see where it would be easy to fall victim to dreams of riches.
It is also interesting you attend a Methodist church. So do we. I made an observation much the same as you did, only there no unmarried men my age in our church. We lost an entire generation of men to the dreadful war.
My mother had an expression that said a lady’s hair was her crown of glory, but about mine, she said I had a flaming crown. A red head brings with it a fair complexion and a readiness to burn under normal sun exposure. One has to be careful working in the sun if you have red hair. We never knew where mine came from. Both Mama and Papa said there were no others in the family. I guess I’m a throwback.
It is getting late and I rise early, so I am going to stop for now. I am pleased you found my ad, and I look forward to additional letters from you,
Sincerely, Number 4694.
What an interesting letter. She certainly sounds like a hard working person. To have your existence come down to the whimsy of the weather or some small bug, goes beyond what I endured in the gold fields. I admire her spirit.
Cal read the letter from number 4694 three times before answering.
Dear number 4694,
I take pen in hand, wondering what to say in answer to your recent letter. It sounds as if you are in a daily struggle. I have traveled extensively throughout the western territories. The travels were all my decision and not driven by necessity as are the tasks you take on daily. I could have stopped at any time and found work as a lawyer or even a cowboy, had I cared to forsake my dream. I chose not to.
I admire the daily ordeal you must endure in order to simply maintain yourself and your family. It appears your son inherited your work ethic and your late husband’s love for the soil. He must be an interesting well-grounded young man and you raised him without having a partner to help. You are to be commended. And envied.
What do you like? What do you dislike? Your favorite color? What is it like where you live? Warm? Hot? Cold?
What is your favorite time of the year? Spring is mine, because everything looks so fresh and new. It also smells good.
Am I correct in assuming you lost your husband in the war? You must have been quite young.
I find it difficult to imagine meals without beef. We have it nearly every meal, and on a trail drive, it’s every meal. To go with it, we have the ever present beans. Beans for breakfast. We buy them by the croaker sack. They don’t spoil. Probably because they don’t last long enough.
It likely will be of no interest to you, but my foreman and I have decided to cross breed our longhorn cattle with Herefords. Unless you’re in Texas, and I don’t think you are, you will not be familiar with longhorn cattle. The best way to describe them is to say the name. The horns can measure over seven feet from tip to tip. They have been popular because they are tough, and can stand the rigors of a trail drive. They are resistant to disease. It does take them a long time to put on enough weight to market. The Hereford matures much earlier than the longhorn. Clay, (My foreman), thinks we can get the best of two worlds.
As you can see from the last paragraph, I’m running out of things to talk about, so I’ll close this, until the next time. Yours truly, Number 6208.
He sealed the envelope and put it into the mail, and walked down to the Land and Cattle Office.
Cheyenne Land and Cattle Company…
Jim Logan was still the man running the office. “Mr. Pierce, how are things at the Circle CP?”
“They’re going well. So well, in fact, I’m thinking about getting some more land. Is the railroad still taking offers for their land?”
“Not as much as they were, but there’s still some open. How much are you thinking?” Logan asked.
“I wouldn’t mind taking on another 10,000 acres,” Cal said.
“I’ll look into it for you, Mr. Pierce. Same arrangement as before?” he asked, his eyes reflecting his anticipation of another windfall.
“Let me know, will you?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Pierce. I’ll get right on it,” Logan promised.
chapter Ten
Jennie Tells the Family
“Chris, I need to talk to you about something,” Jennie said, at the dinner table.
“I want to get married,” Jennie told her son.
“Why now, after so long?” he asked.
“You know I love you, but I’m lonely. I need someone to love me besides my son. I need to be held and hugged.”
“Who would you marry?” he asked. “The only time you see someone other than me is at church, and those people are either married or all too old for you. It would be like marrying somebody that’s Grandpa’s age.”
“Well, you’re right there. They are all too old or already married. I hope you can understand it; I’ve been writing to a man.”
“What man? Where did you meet him?” Chris asked.
“That’s the part I’m afraid you won’t understand. I haven’t met him yet. I don’t even know his name.”
“How can you get married to someone you’ve never met, and don’t even know his name. How can you write a letter to someone without having his name? You’re not making sense Mama.”
“Let me show you,” she said and went to her bedroom and brought the newspaper and showed him.
“This paper only has advertisements from people that are looking for a husband or
a wife. You know there is no one around here my age that is not already married. Well the opposite of this is out west. There are no single ladies out there. I put an advertisement in the paper and have gotten letters from three people. I only answered one of them.”
“But you said you didn’t know his name?”
“I don’t. You send your letter to the newspaper and instead of a name, you sign it with a number. The paper sends the letter on to the other person, without your name, just the number. My number is 4694. The gentleman I am writing to is number 6208.”
“Where does he live?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know that either. I won’t know unless and until number 6208 tells them it is okay to give me his name. At the same time, he won’t know who I am or where I live until I give permission.”
“That’s crazy,” he said,
“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m on the edge of desperate. You’re nearly grown and will be having your own family before too much longer, and I’ll be alone,” she said.
“I guess he is originally from Texas, and then became a gold miner. He has a ranch and raises cattle now. I just don’t know where.
“Mama, you won’t be alone. I’ll always be there. You can live with me.”
“Chris, it wouldn’t be fair to your family. Two women in one house isn’t an easy thing. Please try to understand, this may be my only chance.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?” he asked.
“I suppose there is some risk, but there’s risk in everything, just like farming is one long risk,” she said.
“When is this going to happen?”
“I don’t know. Nothing may come of it. Would you like to read his letter?” she asked.
“You don’t mind?”
“No, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.” She took the letter from her apron pocket and handed it to him. “I picked this up the last time I was in town.”
After he read the letter, he said, “Well, he seems nice enough here. You told him about me?”
“Yes I did. I told him you were doing all of the work on the farm. You can see what he thinks of it in the letter. He admires you,” she said.
“Mama, I don’t know. It just plain worries me. You don’t know he is what he says he is.”
“It will be all right. I’m not going to do anything foolish,” she said.
“Have you told Grandpa and Grandmama about this?
“Partly,” she said. “I told your Grandma I was thinking about it, and I think she must have said something to Papa Clarence, because he brought it up.”
“How did you find out about this?” he asked.
“You know who Cora Hawkins is? Her cousin put an ad in the paper and exchanged letters with a man, and she recently got married.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I think you have a right to know. The trouble we had in the bank when Papa Clarence went with me to talk to them. Remember?”
“Well, that happened because I wouldn’t allow that Mr. Bell to court me.”
“That old man?”
“Yes, that old man. He said he could make all of the problems go away.”
“No wonder Grandpa got so mad. It makes me mad; he would try something like that with my mother.”
“Well, I don’t think he will be trying it with any of the other widows around here after what your Grandpa told him.” She told him the details of the threat.
Chris laughed. “You don’t mess with Grandpa. He’s tough and doesn’t take any guff from anyone.”
“He certainly didn’t that day, for sure,” she said.
“Are you going to tell them,” he asked,
“I think I’m going to wait a little longer, and see how this goes,” she said.
“You do realize, if I get married and move away, I would want you to come, don’t you?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it along those lines. I assume you would, since I’m your only child. The only thing is, I’m not a child. I do a man’s work, and that is the way I see myself.”
“It’s the way I see you too. I would want you with me, but I think it should be your decision. When I first mentioned it to your grandmother, she asked if I would consider letting you live with them. I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. You are old enough to make your own decision, and I have enough faith in you, I’m sure you will decide what is best for you. If the time does come, then you decide what’s best, and you have my blessing.”
“You’re the best mother a person could have. We’ve always been a good team, and I want what’s right for you. If I went with you, I could protect you.”
“Oh honey, it’s not what’s right for me that counts. It’s what’s right for you. It may never come to the point where you need to decide.”
“It’s getting late, and I have a letter I want to write,” she said.
“I’ll clean up, Mama, you go ahead,” he said.
“You’ve done your day’s work, this is my work,” she said. “I’ll write the letter when I finish in here.
chapter Eleven
My Name Is Jennie
Dear Number 6208,
It has always been my belief the good Lord never sends you more than you can handle, so Chris and I take what comes our way, and we handle it the best we can. You will note I used my son’s name. He was named for my late husband, Christopher.
I have written the editor of the newspaper to give you my address. So I will tell you, my name is Jennie Simpson. I live on a farm outside the small town of Yorkville, South Carolina. We are only a few miles from the border with North Carolina. I have lived in this house my entire married life and on my parents farm prior to that. I mentioned in my first letter that my travels would fit in a twenty mile circle. I may have been generous in that estimate.
You also asked my favorite colors. Since my hair is red, and my eyes are green, then green or yellow would be my best colors for clothes. I’m also partial to blue.
My favorite time of the year is spring because everything is starts all over. It renews my hopes for a better tomorrow.
I belong to a ladies sewing circle in a church. In case you are unfamiliar with the workings of a sewing circle, it is a gathering of women who sit around a table with a pretense of sewing. On a few occasions, a few stitches were cast, but mostly we gossip… about men. Since no one knows about you, you have not been the subject of a discussion yet.
Most of the ladies in my Circle are widows, and many of us were widowed on the same day, May 6, 1864 in Spotsylvania, Virginia. Yorkville lost more than a few young men that day.
I have told Chris I was writing to a man that lived on a ranch and raised cattle for profit. He found it strange I would write to someone without knowing their name and had never seen
Now that you have my address and name, you know all there is to know about me, the time for communications can be reduced to one half of the previous time between letters that were mailed to the newspaper.
I have just made a beautiful blue dress for a lady in Yorkville and was sorely tempted to keep it. The ladies bring me the fabric and the pattern. It’s fun to make fine clothes, even though I will never wear them, I will see them in church, and on the street.
I would like to hear about the area where you live. Do you have mountains? There are mountains in North Carolina, but I haven’t seen them. Kings Mountain is not too far from Yorkville, but it isn’t a mountain, more of a tall hill. In school, we learned it had been the location of a battle in our war for independence against the British. I don’t like to think of war. It seems a terrible way to settle a dispute.
In closing, I want to tell you how much I enjoyed your letter. When I told Chris about the writing, I let him read your letter. Apparently you passed muster. He said you seemed nice enough in the letter. High praise indeed.
Please write soon.
Sincerely, Jennie Simpson
Two weeks later, Cheyenne, Wyoming…
“Mr. Pierce, you have som
e mail, I’ll get it for you.” Arnold Burke, the owner of the general store and the postmaster said.
He gave Cal the plain envelope. A quick glance told Cal it was from Kansas City. He stuffed it in his shirt to be read later. He gave Burke the order of supplies he, Clay Terwilliger and the cook had determined were needed.
“Arnold, are you getting any demand for that new barbed wire?” Cal asked the storekeeper.
“Some. What with the squatters and everything, some of the ranchers say it helps keep them out. It would be a big expense for a spread like yours.”
“If it cut down on the number of hands I need, it might pay for itself. We probably wouldn’t lose as many strays as we do now. My foreman was a trail boss and didn’t like it because it blocked the drive, but he said they mostly cut the wire and went through it. He said on several occasions it led to some hard feelings and gun play. That shouldn’t be a problem here, since we don’t have much in the way of drives, except when we’re going to market. Can you look into the pricing for me? I’ll stand for the expense of telegrams if you need to do that.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Pierce. I’ll see what I can find out. I’ll get your order together. Should be ready in an hour or so.”
“Good, I’m going to have a bite, and stop by the land office. See you after a bit.”
At the land office…
“Mr. Pierce, I’ve taken care of the little matter we discussed the other day. When I totaled up the ones you looked at, it came to just over 11,000 acres, so I submitted the bid for all of the parcels. I would expect approval within two weeks. I believe the railroad is going to shut their program down pretty soon and leave just the government land available.”
“I appreciate your initiative. When you get the total, I’ll get a bank draft for it and a little something for you, Jim.” Cal told
Cheyenne Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Brides Book 13) Page 4