A Leap of Faith (Mail-Order Brides 8)

by Annie Boone

  Tom, her father’s footman pulled out a chair and dusted the seat before offering it to Gillian. She accepted his generosity with a smile.

  “I really didn’t mean to disrupt your morning. I truly don’t want any of you to fuss over me. I meant what I said. I really just want some company.”

  She eyed them hopefully but she could see from their awkward expressions that her attempt to reach out to them had not been received the way she had intended. She felt foolish. Gillian didn’t fit in with the wealthy, and she didn’t fit in with the servants. There was no place where she belonged. Nowhere to feel accepted.

  Mrs. Porter laid the steaming cup of coffee in front of her and Gillian felt her hand shake as she raised the cup to her lips. All eyes were on her, and she could feel the tension in the air as the servants tried so hard not to be themselves. Their silence was deafening.

  “Oh for Heaven’s sake!” Gillian slammed the cup against the saucer causing it to chip at the base. “I didn’t come here to make anyone uncomfortable. So either sit with me and actually speak, or go about your business. I’m sure that you all have work to do.”

  Sally, knowing her the best, pulled out the chair beside her. “It’s very kind of you to come to visit with us, Miss Gillian.”

  Gillian feigned a smile even though she really felt more like crying. “So, what were you discussing before I interrupted everyone?” She blew softly on her cup and took another sip of the hot coffee. Again her attempt at friendship was greeted with confused looks. “Oh. I see. You were probably discussing my family.”

  She forced a hollow laugh, but felt even more foolish for wandering down to the servant’s quarters. This was their private domain, and she had invaded their place. Her presence put a damper on their freedom. She above all others knew how stifling that was.

  “No, ma’am! Not at all.” Sally was quick to comment. “It’s just, we were…” she reached for the paper that was cast aside on the center of the table. “The boys were teasing me and the other girls, you see?”

  She held up the paper for Gillian to get a closer look. It looked like the wanted section, and for a moment Gillian was worried that Sally was seeking new employment.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she admitted, hoping one of the servants would let her in on their little joke.

  “These ads,” Sally tapped the paper with her pointer finger. “It’s gentlemen in California seeking brides from the East. They were teasing me that this is the only way I’ll ever find a husband.”

  “How very cruel.” Gillian shot the servants a look of utter disapproval. “Marriage is a sensitive topic for a lady. You boys should all be ashamed,” she said rather crossly.

  They each looked down or away. She heard scuffs of their shoes on the floor and someone cleared his throat in self-conscious nervousness.

  “Oh no, ma’am. It was all in good fun. No harm done. It made me laugh, actually,” Sally reassured her lady.

  From the look on her face, Gillian believed her. She suddenly realized that these people had open and honest relationships that allowed them to joke and enjoy each other. She then realized that she was jealous of the easy way they interacted. Casual jesting was never something she had experienced with girls or with boys.

  If she behaved in such away with the men that came around the mansion, her mother would punish her severely. She would consider this behavior as vulgar and offensive. Certainly not appropriate conduct for a lady of her standing in society.

  One of the bells rang, and from the cord that it was attached to, Gillian could see that it was her mother who beckoned. June shot up. “That would be for me. Guess I’d better see what Her Highness needs.” She gasped and then covered her mouth with her hand. Obviously she was embarrassed that she had allowed such emotion to slip out in front of Gillian. “Begging your pardon ma’am. I don’t mean it that way. I mean, I guess I kind of forgot you were her daughter.”

  “It’s quite all right. I sigh or gasp or whine whenever she calls for me as well. I imagine my reactions are much more graphic than yours.” Gillian smiled and dismissed the honesty with a wave. She was relieved when June laughed lightly. Then Gillian relaxed in her chair, hoping she had made some progress with the staff.

  “We really all should get back to work,” Tom said. “It was lovely having you join us Miss Gillian.”

  “Perhaps, I could come down again? Would that be acceptable to you?” she asked, meaning it. The few minutes she had with them was better than her morning tea alone upstairs in her chambers. The servants all nodded in agreement.

  “Can I get you anything ma’am?” Sally offered.

  “No, I’m just going to finish this lovely coffee and hide down here a little while longer if that’s all right with you.”

  “Take all the time you need ma’am.” Sally smiled then followed the rest of the staff out to start on their chores for the day. Only when the door had closed behind her and Gillian knew she was truly alone, did she pull the newspaper closer to inspect the ads.

  Sure enough there were at least a dozen advertisements for men seeking wives. At first the notion seemed appalling to her. The idea of marrying a complete stranger was frightening. What would possess a woman to do such a thing?

  She continued to scan the paper and she came to a stark realization. These ads seemed like they were posted by men who were seeking hope and new beginnings. Each sounded sincere and to the point, but their underlying message showed through to her.

  Gillian somehow felt like she could easily be on the other side of these ads, asking for someone to pull her out of her current reality and introduce her to a new way of life. Suddenly, she began to think of the impossible as the last ad caught her eye.

  It was from a rancher in California named Marcus Edwards. Unlike the other ads that included a picture, this image stopped her dead in her tracks. The man was ruggedly handsome, and Gillian was instantly attracted. She was used to clean shaven men, with short slicked back hair and polished skin. This man had a rough beard, his hair was long, and his eyes were piercing. She couldn’t tell from the black and white paper, but if she had to bet, she’d wager they were blue.

  His ad spoke about how he had a simple life with his horses and running the ranch. Gillian couldn’t think of anything more exciting. Spending each day out in the open field with a horse. What an adventure! What an escape! How different to what her life was now!

  Gillian finished her fragrant coffee, and returned the glass to the little galley. Mrs. Porter still seemed a little frazzled to have her in her work area, but she smiled nonetheless. Gillian insisted she was very thankful of the hot beverage, and her hospitality which only made Mrs. Porter look more disheveled.

  As she made her way back upstairs to get dressed and begin her own day, her secret was burning a hole in her pocket. She wondered if the servants would notice that the page with the advertisements for mail order brides had mysteriously gone missing.

  Gillian didn’t even care if they suspected her. Life was about taking chances, and it was time that Gillian took a leap of faith and set out on her own adventure. She was the only one who could make changes to set her life on a new course.

  Chapter Three

  It took a few weeks before Gillian received a response, and when it finally did arrive she was grateful that she was alone to open the mail. The letter from Marcus was straightforward and even businesslike. She was disappointed to find that there wasn’t any sign of romance blooming within the pages of his correspondence, he said he was open to meeting her after only exchanging one letter. He had accepted her inquiry and asked her to come to California to get better acquainted. He said that if it turned out they were compatible, they could agree to marriage.

  Gillian felt light-headed as she read his response. Having it in her hands made it all seem so real. She read the letter again to make sure she hadn’t gotten it wrong.

  She had been nervous in the weeks since she had mailed the letter to California. She couldn
’t believe her bold actions. Had she really sent out a proposal to a man? She didn’t even know him, what if they weren’t a good match? And what did she even mean by match? Was she going to California to run away from her suffocating life in this city? Was she really going to abandon the only world she ever belonged to, and a comfortable life at that, to live on a ranch?

  Of course Gillian had fantasized about ranch life especially since sending the letter. Would she truly be able to adapt to it? Her insecurity about the unknown made her worry that she might run home crying when she received her first callus. The idea of physical labor was both daunting and thrilling at the same time.

  And what would she tell her parents? They would rather lock her up in her bedroom until she was a sad, old spinster before allowing her to trek across the country. The fact that she would be going to marry some rancher who needed to advertise in order to obtain a wife would make it worse.

  They wouldn’t understand. Gillian feared that no one would. But why would they understand this desire of hers? The people who had a comfortable life would never want to trade it for uncertainty and hardship. Those who already had a life of hardship wouldn’t go across the country for more of the same. It made perfect sense to her that nobody would understand.

  She needed to take a few days and really think about the decision she needed to make. She held off writing back to Mr. Edwards and instead spent her time in quiet reflection and prayer, hoping against hope that God would show her a sign of which path was for her. Her heart and mind were open to anything that He showed her.

  A sign did come, and it arrived in the most unlikely of places. Gillian had once more snuck down to the servant’s galley to have her morning coffee with the staff. She was chatting with Sally and Tom when Mrs. Porter leaned over with the steaming coffee pot to refill Gillian’s cup.

  “That’s a lovely apron, Mrs. Porter. I love the print.”

  Mrs. Porter beamed with pride. “Why, thank you, Miss Gillian! My sister, Cecelia made it for me. She’s out in California. I miss her so.”

  Upon hearing the state of California mentioned, Gillian felt like a bolt of lightning had struck her core, forcing her to sit straighter. “C-California?” she inquired trying to hide her curiosity. “Is that where you’re from too?”

  “Why yes, it is.” Mrs. Porter smiled and set the pot back on the stove. “I really loved it there. So different from here in New York. That’s not to say that New York isn’t lovely, it is. I came here to be a cook, and look at me!” Her smile deepened. “I cook for one of the finest families in the city! No, California couldn’t give me the life I wanted, but I miss the land. And the farms. My sister is married to a farmer. A rancher, really. He’s quite successful.”

  “Really?” Gillian said, a tad too excited. “Does she like it?”

  “Oh yes. She’s always been fond of animals. And she has her sewing to keep her busy. She sells her items in the town general store, and the fair each year. She's quite talented.” Mrs. Porter smoothed out her apron. Gillian smiled.

  Gillian knew how to sew but didn’t care for it enough to spend hours making dresses. She’d never had to sew her own clothes or develop any skill, for that matter. All her needs were easily cared for by her father’s money. Her lack of skills could cause problems for her, but she was smart enough to learn how to do anything she needed to. She was certain she would be fine.

  She did love reading though, and imagined herself relaxing after a hard day on the porch with her husband reading a book by candle light while he smoked his pipe. It was a simple life, and yet it was a life that she suddenly longed for.

  Gillian had always believed that everything happened for a reason. Why else would she have been compelled to have coffee with the staff that morning if it wasn’t her fate to stumble across the newspaper ads? No, she was certain now that this little conversation with Mrs. Porter was God whispering in her ear to go to California. No sign had ever been clearer.

  After coffee, Gillian excused herself and ran up to her room to draft a response to Marcus. She wouldn’t have him wait any longer, she would accept his invitation and head across the country to become his wife. Only one obstacle remained: What in the world would she tell her parents?

  ***

  The lie had come far easier than she expected. Though she’d planned it, she was surprised at how easily the story rolled off of her tongue.

  “You know, Mother, I’m so tired of the city these days,” Gillian said. The two women chatted amiably about new fashion trends as they enjoyed a light lunch in the sun room.

  “What do you mean, dear? Is anything wrong?” her mother responded. It felt to Gillian that her mother was responding absent mindedly. Her mind was still focused on the new dress she had just commissioned to her seamstress.

  “No, nothing is wrong, really. I’d just like a change of scenery, I suppose. Maybe I’m bored. I know you enjoy the social scene, but I don’t draw the same thrill from it as you do,” she responded.

  “It can drain you of energy from time to time, Gillian. The idea is to pace yourself. I thought you were doing a good job of that. Maybe I have misjudged. Why don’t you visit Cousin Harriet for a few weeks?”

  “I guess that would be a good solution. I don’t think the social scene Harriet is part of in Boston is as hectic as it is here. She would probably let me opt out if I didn’t want to do so much.” Gillian nodded thoughtfully at the suggestion and realized things could fall nicely into place.

  “I’ll send a messenger tomorrow and you can leave in a few days. That will give you plenty of time to get a trunk packed,” Mrs. Sinclair added.

  “No need to do that, Mother. I can write a letter to let her know. I’m the one who wants a break from the city, so I should handle the details. Thank you for offering to help.”

  “You’re saying you want to get away, but do keep an open mind when you meet some of Harriet’s friends. There may be a young man or two who would be a suitable match for you. Just make sure anyone you decide to see again will meet the criteria you’ve set for yourself. It would be a shame to hurt the feelings of a friend of your cousin’s,” said her mother.

  Gillian looked away and rolled her eyes. The criteria I’ve set, indeed, she thought. She couldn’t believe how oblivious her mother was to what she wanted and the fact that any criteria was set by her parents alone.

  “Certainly, mother. That’s an excellent point to keep in mind. I will do just that. If you don’t mind, I’m going to have a rest before I meet with the new members committee at church.”

  The lie made it easier to pack her belongings without being questioned by her parents. When the morning arrived for her departure, she gave her parents a big farewell embrace. She had to hold back tears so they wouldn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary. Who knew if they’d meet again? Gillian didn’t allow herself to think more about that.

  “I suppose I could drop you at the station on my way to the office,” her father offered.

  Gillian noticed his half-hearted suggestion and was slightly relieved that he probably wouldn’t be all that happy if she agreed. “Oh, that’s very kind of you, Father, but I can get someone to take me there. I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she responded.

  Thaddeus Sinclair gave her a final formal hug, nodded curtly, and walked out the door. Gillian turned to her mother who was already preoccupied with fabric swatches for the new curtains she was adding to her sitting room.

  “And Mother, don’t worry about accompanying me to the station. I know you’ll be hot and tired after the journey, and I can make it just fine,” said Gillian.

  Gillian was about to leave the house when her mother handed her an envelope. “Here’s some spending money in case you need it in Boston. Your father wanted to make sure you didn’t have to depend on your aunt and uncle for everything while you’re there with them.”

  She took the money even though she felt a bit guilty about accepting it knowing that this money wouldn’t be used to keep
her entertained in Boston. She hoped that she wouldn’t actually need it and could one day return it to them.

  The ride to the station was uneventful and routine. Jackson, their gardener, had volunteered to drive her to the train station. She was grateful for the time to think seriously about what she was doing one last time. By the time they arrived, she was still sure she was doing the right thing.

  Jackson unloaded her trunks and took them to the cargo station for her and then he was on his way back to the mansion. Now that her journey had officially begun, she went to the counter to buy her ticket to Sacramento, California.

  Making her way to the boarding area, she could feel the butterflies start fluttering in her stomach. She knew that the window to change her mind was closing fast. She also knew that she wasn’t going to change her mind. There had been too many signs that this was the right thing for her to do and she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t turn back.