Mail Order Bride: Katie (Orphan Brides Go West Book 3)

by Vivi Holt

  Katie took Hannah’s hands in her own and stared into her large, brown eyes. “No, dear Hannah. You should get married in Spring. Before I leave is too soon, and after the baby comes is too long for you lovebirds to wait. I will promise to do my best to be here. And if I’m not, then you’ll know my thoughts and prayers are with you.”

  Hannah slumped into her seat at the table, and lay her chin in her hands. She looked deflated.

  “Please don’t let it upset you. This is a big day – you should be ecstatic.”

  “I am ecstatic, honestly I am. It’s just that I’m finally realizing this is how it’s going to be from now on. We’re going to be living separate lives – we’ll hardly ever see each other again.”

  Hannah’s mouth turned downward, and tears filled her eyes.

  Katie’s eyes glistened too, and she felt a thick lump forming in her throat. She pushed it down and said, “that is true. But we’ll write, all the time. So it will seem as though we’re never apart.”

  “Yes, all the time – do you promise?”

  “I promise.”

  ***

  It was Christmas Day, yet Katie didn’t feel particularly festive. The day had arrived, cold and dark, and Katie had welcomed it with tears and a nose that was red from blowing into Nicholas’s old, blue handkerchief. Hannah was determined to make the day as enjoyable as they could, given that Nicholas wasn’t there to enjoy it with them. She welcomed Katie into the warm kitchen, and served her a bowl of spiced oatmeal, steaming hot, and covered with dried raisins and brown sugar. Setting a cup of scalding hot tea in front of her bowl, Hannah sat opposite Katie and watched her eat, smiling with encouragement and telling her entertaining anecdotes from the final days of school before the holiday break. Stories that usually made Katie smile, but not today.

  After breakfast, they rested in rocking chairs before the fire that Hannah had built in the stove, to exchange gifts. Katie sat and stared at the small, square package in her hands.

  “Go on, open it,” said Hannah, prodding her with an elbow.

  “OK, all right,” Katie smiled at her, then pulled the yellow ribbon from the gift. She tugged gently to release the wrapping paper, and unfolded it slowly to reveal a small box. The box had a lid, and Katie lifted it to peer inside. Her eyes widened, and she pulled a silver chain from the box, with a small silver locket attached.

  “Oh Hannah, it’s beautiful.”

  “I’m so glad you like it. I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I’ve hidden a lock of my hair inside. I know that’s probably silly, but I couldn’t think what else to do.” Hannah’s cheeks blushed pink, and she furrowed her brow as she watched Katie slipping the chain around her own neck.

  “Here, let me help you, dear.”

  Hannah jumped to her feet and hurried around to help fasten the clasp of the necklace. She patted it happily, “show me!”

  Katie spun to face her, and they both laughed with delight. Hannah pleased to see Katie smile for the first time that day.

  “It looks lovely on you. Perfect.”

  “I love it. And having a piece of you with me will give me the strength I need to face whatever is to come in California.”

  “Everything will be fine, you just wait and see. Kristoff will make sure of it. And I’ll write to you straight away. You’ll get my letter almost the moment you arrive. That reminds me – you never mentioned what Kristoff said about the baby when you told him in that last telegram. Is he excited?”

  “Oh yes, of course. He sent right back that he was a little shocked, but that it will all be fine.” Katie’s lie made her quiver inside. She’d never lied to Hannah before – she was used to keeping the truth from people, but had always tried not to lie outright. It felt so wrong to lie to her friend, but she convinced herself once again that it was for the right reasons.

  “Oh good. I knew it would all work out. Now hurry and get ready, or we’ll be late for Christmas dinner at Fred’s parents’ house.”

  Katie rushed to the looking glass hanging over the dressing table in Hannah’s bedroom and stared at her own reflection. The silver locket dangled gracefully across her pale neck. She’d never owned a piece of jewelry like it before in her life, and she ran her hand across it again just to make sure it was real. It opened when she pressed on it with the tips of her fingers. She regarded the brown lock of hair inside, then pushed it shut again. She didn’t know what California would be like, but at least having the locket around her neck would remind her of Hannah, and their lives together in Boston.

  Her stomach churned with excitement and trepidation as she considered the week to come. What would the future hold for her and her unborn child? She combed her hair back into a ponytail, then twisted it into a tight bun. She pried open a handful of hairpins between her teeth and secured her hair with them before saying a silent prayer asking God to help her through the journey that lay ahead.

  ***

  After ten days of travelling on the steam train, Katie’s face was more pale and angular than ever. Once Christmas was over, she’d left Hannah standing on the platform at the station in Boston, waving at the retreating train, the steam from its smoke-stack obscuring her face even as it pulled away. Katie sat comfortably in the first class cabin, watching the scenery flash by with the occasional stop at various towns along the way. Instead of running to the wash room every time a wave of nausea hit her, she’d taken to using brown paper bags provided by a kind conductor.

  She stared out the window at the landscape beyond. The view had changed dramatically throughout the journey from the east coast to the west. From thick woods with green fir trees, to open plains and rolling prairies, and finally the dry wilderness of California.

  Just then the conductor walked through the swaying berth, smiling at the passengers. He wore a navy jacket, trimmed with gold brocade, and a small navy cap. A silver whistle poked out of a tidy pocket on his jacket, and two golden lines ran down the sides of his navy pants. He stopped beside Katie and shouted loudly to the group, “Sacramento!” before continuing on his way to the next cabin.

  Katie’s hands flew to grasp her locket in glee, and she grinned as she stared out the window at clumps of fir, cedar, and oak trees, smatterings of hemlock, and other shrubbery, and in between pockets of various hardy flowers that caught the eye with a dash of color here and there. She had made it to Sacramento, finally, after such a long journey. It felt to Katie as though she had lived on this train for half her life, and the clattering of the tracks beneath it echoed constantly in her head, even while she slept.

  Soon, she could see a group of buildings huddled together in the dry and dusty landscape ahead of the locomotive. They pulled closer, and the brakes engaged, slowing the train with a squeal and a sigh as it approached the station. As they lurched back and forth with the rhythm of the wheels, Katie heard the shriek of the whistle - the driver announcing their approach to the station ahead. Then, the brakes held tight, pulling the train to a stop and a burst of steam hissed from the engine, blanketing the platform in a smoky veil.

  “End of the line. End of the line. Everyone out, it’s the end of the line,” shouted the conductor, stepping quickly through the cabin.

  Katie stood unsteadily to her feet. She gathered her things, then made her way to the exit. She climbed down the stairs, and with a hop she was on the platform. She swayed, slowly gaining her balance on the still ground beneath her feet. It was mid-morning, and the sun was high in the sky. The chill winter weather had not followed them from the east, and she felt the warmth pricking at her skin under the thick, woolen clothing. She unwound the scarf from her neck, and began undoing the large buttons on her coat before slipping it off and laying it over one arm.

  The brakeman deposited her luggage by her feet with a nod, and she thanked him before looking anxiously up and down the length of the station. Kristoff was supposed to be meeting her here, but she couldn’t see anyone who matched his description. Within a few minutes, all of the passengers
who’d alighted from the train had left the station, and Katie was alone with an elderly woman who was studying her from the other end of the platform. She started toward Katie, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

  “Katie Pearson?” she asked.

  “Yes, that’s me,” said Katie, shifting her coat to her left arm and sticking out her right to shake the woman’s outstretched hand.

  “I’m Imelda Hutchins. Kristoff sent me to get you. He’s sorry he couldn’t come himself, he had to deal with a little issue down at the store, but he wants me to take you straight to him.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  The woman was all matronly bustle. She beckoned to a porter, who hurried over to them with a dip of his hat.

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “Please ensure this luggage is delivered to Petersen’s Mercantile over on Elm Street.”

  “Will do, Ma’am.” He nodded, and began gathering Katie’s luggage and loading it onto a layered trolley.

  Mrs. Hutchins smiled at Katie with a twinkle in her blue eyes. Her gown was practical, yet well made. It was a pale yellow calico covered in sprigs of red cherries with green leafy twigs. Her hair was pulled neatly into a bun at the back of her head, and her cheeks were rosy and round.

  “Follow me, dear,” she said. She turned and walked back down the length of the platform. Katie picked up her hat and satchel, and followed. As they walked, she scanned the township in front of her, taking in her surroundings with wonder. It was so very different to what she was used to. Boston was an established city, but Sacramento was little more than a pioneering town. Wooden facades loomed high above shop fronts, whose small structures sat hidden behind them, and covered boardwalks made a pathway for pedestrians between the buildings. Katie could see people scurrying hither and thither down the wide streets, the dust of passing wagons obscuring their path.

  “The store is this way. It’s not far, so we’ll walk. I didn’t want to bother with getting the horses out for such a short trip. It’s nice to stretch one’s legs after a train ride, don’t you think?” Mrs. Hutchins chattered amiably as they walked.

  Katie nodded her head, and stared about her with wide-eyed wonder at the foreign-looking surroundings. They turned at a busy intersection across from the train station and down a dusty thoroughfare. In the distance, a bell clanged, its sound muffled by the distance.

  “What was that?” asked Katie, standing on tip-toe to peer in the direction from which the sound had come.

  “The bell? Oh that’d be the old barge leaving the banks of the river and heading downstream. We’re not far from the river here. See these boardwalks, how high they are? They had to raise them due to the terrible flooding some years back. It happens every now and then, but at least now most of the town is high enough not to be drowned by it. Watch your step.”

  Katie almost stumbled over a cowboy lying drunk at her feet. His body stretched across the entire sidewalk and his bone colored Stetson covered his face, stifling a loud snore. Mrs. Hutchins barely broke her stride as she hopped over him. Katie followed suit and stepped gingerly over his legs, her eyes wide.

  Next they passed a hardware store, then a baker’s where the smell of fresh baked goods wafted out to greet them. Katie’s stomach grumbled ominously, and a wave of nausea rolled through her body. What she wouldn’t do for a sweet bread roll. She licked her lips and looked back at the bakery wistfully as they moved on at a brisk pace. Before long she found herself standing under a swinging overhead sign that announced "Petersen’s Mercantile and Grocery”. She stood under the sign for a moment, watching Mrs. Hutchins retreat into the store through a narrow door that was held open by a small bucket filled with pebbles.

  As Katie walked into the store her heightened sense of smell was bombarded by scents of fruits, vegetables, flour, sugar, candy, fresh herbs, and more. The entire floor of the large store was covered with barrels of various sizes containing foodstuffs. Along each wall were rows of shelving and on the shelves sat shining pots and pans, brightly colored linens and fabrics, ribbons, shoes, and candy. Tools filled one corner of the room, along with a small selection of chairs and stools, and yet another section was covered with dolls and toys.

  Katie scanned the room slowly, her eyes finally resting on a man standing behind the counter. He was serving a customer, and he smiled warmly at her as he finished wrapping the woman’s fabric selection in brown paper. Handing it over to the lady, who was wearing a green dress decorated with flowers and a straw hat, he wished her good day and turned to face Mrs. Hutchins.

  “Mrs. Hutchins, you’re back already. That was fast. Is this Mrs. Pearson?”

  Katie felt his gaze land on her. She returned his stare, and the blue depths of his eyes took her breath away. His left cheek housed a mischievous dimple, and his blonde hair swept back in waves away from his tanned face. Dressed in a simple suit, with a white apron tied neatly around his waist, he walked toward her with a grin, reaching out his hand to grasp hers. Just as he took her hand in his, nausea overwhelmed Katie, and she rushed to the nearest barrel, throwing up the contents of her last meal with several violent heaves. Mrs. Hutchins and Kristoff watched her in surprise and dismay.

  “Oh dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Hutchins, rushing to her side. “Well I never. Are you all right, my dear? Whatever could the matter be? Oh the flour. Mr. Petersen, the flour!”

  Katie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and felt her face flush as the realization of what she’d just done dawned on her with stark clarity.

  “I’m so very sorry, Mr. Petersen. I’ve ruined your lovely flour.”

  “Never mind. I just hope you aren’t too unwell. I think maybe you should go into the back and lie down for a while. Perhaps the trip was too much for you.”

  “Thank you. I would like to lie down if I could.”

  “Mrs. Hutchins, would you please take Mrs. Pearson into my office? She can lie on the settee.”

  “Of course, come with me, dear. My, my, what a way to introduce yourself child,” she chortled under her breath as she led Katie to the back of the shop and into a small but comfortable room. The office held a large desk, a chair, a settee and a cabinet that no doubt contained papers and files. Katie dropped down onto the settee and laid back with her head resting against a soft, plump cushion. She sighed loudly, and closed her eyes.

  “Can I get you anything, my dear?” asked Mrs. Hutchins, hovering over her.

  “I’d love something to eat. I’m absolutely famished.”

  Mrs. Hutchins looked startled, “Are you sure, my dear? You might want to give your stomach a moment to recover.”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure. I think some food would do the trick, actually.”

  “Well, if you think so. I’ll see what I can rustle up for you.”

  “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Hutchins.”

  Mrs. Hutchins hurried from the room, and Katie could hear her boots clacking across the store and out to the street beyond. She remained still for a moment, one hand on her forehead. What would Kristoff think of her? She’d only been here for a few minutes, and already she’d ruined a perfectly good barrel of flour in his store. She remembered the look on his face, and shook her head with a groan.

  She had hoped to make a good first impression, but the journey had been draining. She was exhausted, and that made her feel even more ill than usual. When she thought about it, if you added the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything since her breakfast on the train hours earlier, she was only surprised that she hadn’t thrown up sooner. If she was to keep her pregnancy a secret from Kristoff until after the wedding, she’d have to be more careful to eat regularly and get plenty of sleep, otherwise someone would figure it out sooner or later. If he found out she was pregnant with another man’s child, there was no way he’d still want to marry her and then what would she do? She would be stranded in California on her own with no one to help her.

  At least in Boston she’d had Hannah to turn to. Why, oh why, did she come to Sacramento? If Kri
stoff turned her away, she had no one else to help her. Panic pricked at Katie’s stomach and she felt the nausea returning. Just then, Mrs. Hutchins bustled in with a bowl of steaming hot soup and a plate covered in small, sweet bread rolls. Katie’s mouth watered and her stomach growled at the sight.

  “Chicken soup, with fresh rolls coming up,” chirped Mrs. Hutchins, pulling a small side table over to the settee and placing the meal on top of it.

  “Oh, that looks marvelous,” exclaimed Katie. “Thank you so very much.”

  “You’re most welcome, my dear. Eat up now, you need your strength after a journey like that. It’s no wonder you’re unwell, all those hours on board a train filled with strangers. Rocking back and forth, stopping and lurching and heaving. You poor thing. Eat up now, and I’ll be back to check on you shortly.”

  Mrs. Hutchins poured a glass of water from a pitcher that was sitting on the desk, and handed it to Katie. Then she swept from the room and back into the store.

  Katie dug her spoon into the soup, and shoveled it into her mouth, burning her tongue in the process.

  “Ouch!”

  She chugged a quick mouthful of water to soothe the burn, then bit into one of the soft bread rolls. It was delicious. Before long, her hunger had been satiated, and Katie stretched out on the settee again, closing her eyes. The sounds of the street carried through the store and into the office. Hooves beating rhythmically on the road. Animated conversations echoed through the walls, along with laughter and the occasional shout. Finally, the whistle of the dusty train, as it pulled away from the nearby station reminded Katie that she was here to stay with no prospect of going home anytime soon. Dreaming of home, she drifted off into a deep slumber.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kristoff finished counting out the day’s take into the sturdy, metal cash box and closed the latch. Locking it carefully with a small key, he pushed it beneath the counter ready to take to the bank. He returned the key to a pocket in his waistcoat, and leaning back in his chair, he laced his strong hands behind his head and sighed. It had been a busy day in the store. Mondays were always his busiest day, and today had been no exception. He closed his eyes and ran through the day’s business in his head.