Emer: Clover Springs Mail Order Brides

by Rachel Wesson

  “Ahem. Nice to meet you, Miss Matthews.”

  How long had he been standing in front of her? Emer recovered quickly. “You, too, Mr. Shipley.” She tried to take her hand back but he held onto it for a few seconds.

  Emer almost fell back into the seat when he let her hand go. She caught the amusement in his eyes.

  “Mother, would you like me to pour?”

  The conversation continued between Father Molloy and their host but Emer wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. She could feel him sitting beside her, scrutinizing her. Unlike the servants and his mother, he didn’t seem to be repulsed, though. He seemed—well, almost interested.

  “Have you lived in Boston long, Miss Matthews?”

  Why did he have to ask me a question just as I took a bite of cake? She tried to swallow the piece quickly but it went down the wrong way, resulting in a coughing fit. Mortified, she took the glass of water he offered, his mother’s gaze drilling through both of them. Would this tea party ever end?

  “Miss Matthews, perhaps you would like to go shopping before our trip?” Emer looked down at her dress, it hadn’t looked too bad in Father Molloy’s house but here, it was horrendous. “Colorado can be quite cold at this time of year. You will need some suitable outfits.”

  How am I going to pay for them, Duchess?

  She almost choked again, fearing she had spoken out loud, as Mrs. Shipley continued. “I would accompany you myself but I have so many things going on before we leave. I will ask Kirsten, my ladies’ maid, to go with you. She knows what to buy.”

  Emer found her voice. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Shipley, but there is no need…”

  “There is every need.” Mrs. Shipley’s tone, although civil, held a ring of steel. “Kirsten will charge the purchases to my account. Oh, is that the time?” Mrs. Shipley stood, causing both men to stand also. “Please forgive me, Father Molloy, but Roland was invited to the governor’s house this evening. I must start getting ready.”

  Father Molloy finished his tea hurriedly. “Thank you very much for your hospitality and kindness, Mrs. Shipley. Nice to see you again, Lawrence.”

  “You too, Father.” Lawrence turned to Emer. Taking her hand, he leaned closer ,whispering, “Meeting you was the highlight of the afternoon. Don’t let mother intimidate you. She is all front.”

  Emer didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

  Chapter 15

  Father Molloy insisted Emer come back to the house to show him her purchases. He had fallen down the stairs and twisted his ankle. He was stuck sitting on the sofa all day long. It was torture for such a sociable man. His parishioners were very kind but most of them had jobs and couldn’t keep him company all day long.

  Emer sat, hoping her stomach wouldn’t start rumbling. The shopping trip had been everything she dreaded. Kirsten was almost as cold as her mistress, making it clear at every opportunity how much charity Mrs. Shipley was giving her.

  "Do I have to travel with the Shipleys?" Emer asked the priest, keeping her fingers crossed hoping he would say no.

  "Dorothea Shipley has been very kind to you, Emer. The family is one of the most upstanding families in Boston."

  "By upstanding, I guess you mean wealthy. Funny how money always brings respectability, isn’t it?" Thinking of Lewis, Minnie’s ex-husband, made her tone harder than she had intended.

  "Don’t mock me, Emer. I am not your enemy."

  Emer looked at the ground, her stomach clenching. She hadn’t meant to hurt the priest's feelings. He had been nothing but kind to her.

  "Sorry, Father. I wish you were coming with me.” Emer looked over at the man just in time to see the pain on his face. “I’m sorry. Sometimes the words just come out of my mouth so fast, I can’t stop them.”

  “I know that, child. I may be a priest but I am also a man with failings. I admit to being very disappointed I won’t be traveling with you. I so wanted to see my girls again.”

  “Maybe I could stay here and wait for you to recover. Doc said with rest, your leg should be better in a month or so.”

  “No, child. You must travel now.”

  The priest’s tone told her he didn’t want her to argue. But she did anyway.

  “I don’t want to travel with strangers, especially when they make it obvious they don’t approve of me."

  "Emer, there is prejudice everywhere. For example, you are judging the Shipleys because they are wealthy. Just because someone has money doesn't mean that they are happy."

  "Well, I guess so but Mrs. Shipley doesn’t look at you as if you were something that smelled.” Emer looked at the priest when he made a funny sound like a laugh but he recovered quickly.

  "Why don’t you go try on another one of those dresses she bought for you? I would never have thought about how uncomfortable you would have felt not having the right clothes to travel in. She is a very kind lady.”

  Kind, my foot. The lady was as low as a rattlesnake. Emer cringed remembering the venom in Mrs. Shipley’s face when they had spoken earlier that day. The woman had left Emer with no doubt she considered her an imposition. She was only taking her along to keep up appearances.

  Emer changed as Father Molloy had told her to. She touched the material gingerly. She had never owned something so fragile or fine in her whole life. She looked at her reflection. I look like a real lady. Will Sorcha be impressed?

  She ran back into where Father Molloy waited. "Walk, child. Ladies don’t run."

  She turned around so he could get the full view of her dress. "Isn't it gorgeous, Father? I’ve never owned anything so pretty."

  "You look beautiful, Emer, but remember true beauty is on the inside."

  "Yes, Father."

  “Run along now, dear. Mrs. Raines has made you something to eat. I’m not hungry, although I am rather tired.” The priest settled back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Emer looked at the old man as he slept. His leg must be more painful than he was willing to admit.

  Emer had become very fond of Mrs. Raines. After witnessing her table manners, Mrs. Raines took Emer under her wing. She showed her how to eat properly, in particular the different types of cutlery to use.

  The housekeeper patiently showed Emer how to act more like a lady. “Where did Father Molloy find you? I could lay a wager you didn’t have any female role models, did you?”

  Emer sat silently at the kitchen table.

  “You can’t just pick up food with your fingers. And close your mouth while you’re eating.” Emer picked up a fork but put it down again as a frown appeared on the housekeeper’s face. “What about grace? You got to say thanks for the meal you are eating.”

  “I’m not eating. You keep lecturing me and me stomach thinks me throat’s been cut.”

  “Emer Matthews. Curb your tongue. You can’t use language like that. It isn’t ladylike.” The housekeeper went about the kitchen, muttering loud enough for Emer to hear. “Why is it down to me to change her into something resembling a lady? I’ve known Father Molloy for a long time and seen many of his harebrained schemes but this is the best one yet.”

  “That’s better, Emer. Sit up straight and look that Shipley woman in the eye. She may have more money and have all the trappings that brings with it. In the eyes of God, you are just as good as she is, and don’t you forget it.”

  Chapter 16

  Time flew by and all too soon, Emer was standing on the station platform saying goodbye to Father Molloy. He had insisted on accompanying her to the station. Secretly, she was relieved. She dreaded the trip. The only saving grace was the thought of finally meeting her sister. Mrs. Shipley assured Father Molloy they would look after Emer. I can look after myself. I’ve been doing it for years. But she kept her mouth shut. The priest wasn’t recovering as quickly as he should. It wouldn’t be fair to add more drama to his life than she already had.

  The whistle blew and Emer found herself fighting tears as she waved goodbye to the priest. She wasn’t going to show weakness, not now. Sharing a railway c
ar with the Shipley family would be a challenge. Mr. Shipley stayed in Boston but Mrs. Shipley, Lawrence and his awful cousin, Mitchell, were enough company for Emer.

  The hours dragged by. Emer fidgeted, wishing more than once she had disobeyed Father Molloy and traveled with the servants. Then she could have worn her pants and shirt. She pulled at the collar of her dress. There was so much material, she felt suffocated. Moving was a problem, too, as she hadn’t quite mastered walking like a lady. Every time she had to leave the car, she tripped, much to the amusement of Lawrence.

  She had caught him looking at her a few times, his head slightly tilted to one side. Studying her, almost. As if she was something foreign. She didn’t like how it made her feel. She tried staring him down but that only seemed to add to his amusement.

  Emer twisted and turned in the bed. It was comfortable, certainly better than sleeping on a chair the whole trip. It wasn’t the accommodation stopping her from sleeping. Every time she closed her eyes, she kept seeing his face, his green eyes dancing with merriment. Usually at something she did.

  Like earlier that day, he had offered her the paper to read. She’d made the mistake of taking it and pretending to be engrossed in the content. He’d asked her over dinner what she had thought of some article. She’d made an excuse but she wasn’t sure if he believed her. She wasn’t about to admit she couldn’t read properly. There wasn’t much time for Patty to teach her things like that. Patty wasn’t keen on sending her to school, either. Minnie had tried to make her pay more attention to her lessons but she hadn’t. She couldn’t help wishing she had.

  “Good morning, Miss Matthews. Did you sleep well?”

  Why did he always speak to her just as she took a bite of food? She chewed quickly, managing this time not to make a complete fool of herself.

  “Yes, thank you. Did you?”

  “Didn’t sleep a wink. I hate traveling, don’t you?”

  She couldn’t believe he was complaining when they were traveling in style compared to some. He only had to take a walk through the train to see what ordinary people had to put up with. He was typical of the class he belonged to. Rich, spoiled and so very attractive. Annoyed with herself, she took her temper out on him.

  “You should try traveling without the benefit of the sleeping car. Then you would have something to grumble about.”

  Lawrence laughed heartily, surprising her. She hadn’t meant it as a joke. She hated when rich people complained about suffering. If it had been Mitchell who had reacted this way, she’d have given him a lecture but Lawrence was different. Why? He’s a spoiled rich man out for some fun to pass the time.

  Lawrence’s stomach ached from laughing. He deliberately said things to Miss Matthews to upset her. Not in a bad way but just because he wanted to see her eyes sparkle. She wasn’t beautiful in the way the debutantes he was used to were. Her hands weren’t as soft, her skin showed signs of sun exposure and she walked like a man. Some man—she’s all woman and you know it. Her face was one of the most expressive he had ever seen, possibly as she had never been coached to guard her emotions. With her, there was no secret code, no silly games. What you saw was what you got. At first, the change had been refreshing. Something to help pass the time until they arrived in Denver. But now?

  He found himself seeking her out more often. She amused him but he wasn’t laughing at her, but with her. She was funny without being mean. He regretted embarrassing her yesterday with the newspaper. It was obvious she couldn’t read, not least because she had held it upside down.

  “Why are you so intent on going to Clover Springs, Miss Matthews?”

  “I want to find my sister.” Emer closed her mouth, her tone telling him the subject was closed. But he wanted to know more.

  “Find your sister? Did you not grow up together?”

  “No, we didn’t. Circumstances kept us apart. That is all I am going to say, Mr. Shipley. Your mother has already asked me loads of questions.”

  He hid a smile as her nose rose up when speaking of his mother. These two women were similar in so many ways—not that they would ever admit it.

  “Have you ever been to Denver?”

  “I lived there for a time.” She looked down at her plate. Quite obviously, she didn’t want to discuss it further but his curiosity was piqued.

  “Really, where? Perhaps I know the people you stayed with?”

  The glare she sent him told him to be careful. “That is not very likely, is it? Mr. Shipley, I am going to be frank. I cannot work out whether you are trying to be nice or you are simply passing time. Either way, this…conversation is boring. If you will excuse me, I wish to go for a walk.”

  When he stood, she turned her head slightly.

  “Alone.” With that, she walked off, leaving him speechless.

  He watched her walk, unsteadily, out of the car. She was intriguing. There was no doubt about that. The more she tried to shut him out, the more he found himself wanting to get to know her. He loved the way she talked. She bit her nails when nervous and often stopped before continuing a sentence. A couple of times, he thought she had uttered a mild curse word. He sensed she was lonely, despite the brave front she put on. He had watched her, while pretending to read a book. When she let her guard down, he saw deep pain in her eyes. Someone had hurt her badly. His hands balled as he thought of anyone laying a finger on her. What was wrong with him? He barely knew the girl yet she brought out a protective side to him he never knew existed.

  Her legs were shaking so much, Emer struggled to walk out of the dining car without losing her footing. What was Lawrence Shipley up to? Mitchell had already tried to find out details of her background, as had Mrs. Shipley. She hadn’t told them anything. Now Lawrence was asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Had Mrs. Shipley sent him or was he really interested? Of course, he’s not interested. He could have his pick of the ladies.

  Emer kept walking, wishing they were anywhere but on a train. There was a limit to how far she could go. On impulse, she decided to visit some of the other cars, hoping to find someone like her. Maybe a conversation with her own people would make the time pass faster.

  She entered a car and smiled at a couple of ladies who seemed to be traveling alone. They looked like servant girls or maybe mail order brides like the ones Father Molloy had sent. She asked one girl if she minded if she took a seat.

  “Not at all, Miss. Would you like me to fetch your husband?”

  Emer looked over her shoulder, wondering who the girl was speaking to before she realized it was her. “My husband…”

  “You seem to be unwell, Miss. I seen you earlier with a nice gentleman. Should I fetch him?”

  “No, please don’t. I would just like to sit a while and talk.”

  The girls exchanged a look, leaving Emer feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

  “I was wondering where you were headed?” she asked, hoping to get the conversation started.

  “We are going west, Miss.”

  “I worked that out.” Emer smiled but the girls didn’t return her smile. They exchanged another look before one stared out the window. The second sent a glance at Emer before she started fiddling with the bag on her lap. Disappointed, Emer stood.

  “Thank you for sharing your seat. I feel better now.” She lied. The girl didn’t hide the look of relief on her face. Since when do my own class not speak to me? As she walked, she passed a mirrored surface. An image of a wealthy young woman looked back at her. Only then did she smile slightly. They thought you were rich. And they judged you, just as harshly as you judged Mrs. Shipley. Emer could hear Father Molloy’s voice as clear as if he had been standing beside her. Head down, she walked back to the Shipley car, not bothering to acknowledge anyone she passed on her way.

  “Back already, Miss Matthews. Did you have a nice walk?’

  She nodded in response to Lawrence before taking a seat. Staring out the window, she did her best to ignore the man beside her. It didn’t matter what his motive w
as. As soon as this trip was over, she would never see him again.

  Chapter 17

  “We will be in Denver tomorrow morning. The bank should be up and running by Monday morning at the latest. Your father said some man, Connors I think the name was, has strict instructions to have everything ready.”

  Lawrence ignored Mitchell. The Denver branch was his project, not his cousin’s. He hid his annoyance over the fact Father had discussed the details. “When are you planning the grand opening, Mother?”

  “A couple of days should be sufficient time to organize everything.” His mother shifted her gaze to Emer. Before she could say anything, Lawrence jumped in.

  “Are you coming to our grand opening, Miss Matthews?”

  He smiled despite the look of horror on her face.

  “Me? Sorry. I shall be on my way to Clover Springs.”

  “Of course you will, Miss Matthews. You are only staying with us for two nights. I promised Father Molloy I would look after you. I intend on keeping that promise.”

  Lawrence held his breath. Emer hadn’t reacted favorably to previous commands from his mother. To his surprise, the young girl simply nodded and resumed looking out the window. Lawrence studied her. The black circles under her eyes were more pronounced than yesterday. Sleeping on a train was uncomfortable but he couldn’t help feeling there was more to it than that.

  “Mitchell, have you those plans Roland gave you? I wouldn’t mind reading for a little bit.”

  “Plans? What plans? Mother, I warned you before. Denver is my project. Not yours and definitely not his.” Lawrence sent a glare in the direction of his cousin.

  “Lawrence, the bank is my business. All of the branches belong to your father.” His mother’s steel-laced tone was matched by the expression in her eyes.

  “Mother, we have been through this before. I am taking over the Denver branch. I will make all of the decisions relevant to local business. I appreciate your offer of help but it is not necessary. Once you have organized your little soiree, I expect you to go back to Boston. Take him with you.”