Annie: A Bride For The Farmhand - A Clean Historical Western Romance (Stewart House Brides Book 3)

by Charity Phillips

  That was a good point. All of the men in town were either already married or quite old. Dorothy rather liked the idea of meeting a man from somewhere else. “Think of the stories a man from afar would have to share!” she exclaimed excitedly. It was almost enough to make her forget her worries about the loss of independence.

  “I have heard about this mail order bride service in the newspaper,” Virginia said. “Men from the West place advertisements for brides back home in the East.”

  That was a thrilling prospect. It was decided that they would procure one such newspaper and search for some husbands of their very own.

  Margaret fetched a newspaper the following morning, and that evening after work, the four friends perused it together. There were pages upon pages of advertisements. Dorothy felt a bit overwhelmed, but she also felt spoiled to see so many options. Finally, she discovered an advertisement that pleased her and interested her enough to pen a response.

  Clint Edwards, 33 years of age. The owner of a general store in Missoula Mills, Montana. Widower and father of twin sons, aged 10. Seeking a young lady interested in being their mother and helping with the store.

  Why, this advertisement seemed to have everything she was hoping for! Dorothy would be able to work in a store, and she would become a mother right away; that was a bit daunting, but in the best sort of way. She was not one to shy away from a challenge.

  As soon as she had decided on this gentleman, she collected a pen and some paper from her friends’ stockpile and she sat in the communal drawing room on the forest green couch, carefully writing a letter in response.

  Dear Mr. Edwards,

  Greetings to you from Boston, Massachusetts. My name is Miss Dorothy Aldridge and I am a seamstress at a textile factory in the city. I work there with three of my friends. It is not for lack of interest in work that I wish to change location, but rather it is because I do long to be married for companionship. I am twenty-two years of age with deep brown-colored hair and brown eyes. I believe that my experience working in the factory would be a great help with running a store, though of course, I will require some training. I am indeed interested in the prospect!

  What are your sons like? I am sorry to read about the passing of your wife. That must be so difficult for you and your boys. I hope to become good friends with all of you, so that I may help to lessen the pain you are no doubt experiencing in this time of grief and loss.

  When I am not working in the factory, I find that I have a lot of time and nothing with which to fill it. My friends and I spend a great deal of our time outside of work imagining what our futures may hold. I hope you will not find it unusual, but I do so hope that my future may contain travel and excitement and a husband out West. I am not unhappy here in Boston, but I do long to be someplace new, with someone who will love and appreciate me the way only a man can.

  I pray that you will write back soon. I do so wish to get to know you better so that I might dare to dream of meeting you one day.

  Sincerely,

  Dorothy Aldridge

  She hoped that her letter would be received with satisfaction. She was not the best with words, but she believed that she came across the way she had intended. As soon as she had finished writing, she carefully placed the letter into an envelope and addressed it to Mr. Clint Edwards in Missoula Mills. How fun it was even to write it!

  ****

  The trouble with using letters as their form of communication was that Dorothy now had to wait to receive any word from Mr. Edwards. She was terrible when it came to being patient. That was why she did things for herself; if she was self-reliant, she could ensure that things happened for her instead of being forced to wait for someone else to do them. Her friends were giddy with excitement and thrilled with the advertisements, but until Dorothy heard from her intended suitor, she refused to get too excited. She knew that the situation was a bit precarious. Who was to say that anything at all would come from sending the letters off? These gentlemen were probably going to receive so many letters. She was not going to rule out looking through the paper again and writing to someone else if nothing came from Mr. Edwards within a reasonable amount of time. She was a pragmatist.

  “Waiting is the hardest part,” Virginia opined.

  “I agree,” Margaret said wistfully. “I hope the mail will reach them soon!”

  Eliza was gazing out of the window, practically too distracted to even get her work done.

  “Imagine how many letters these men might have received,” Dorothy pointed out. “Oh, but I hope we still stand out to them. I pray that we were the first to reach them and that their letters back to us are nearly here.”

  She did her best to always be optimistic for her friends. It would not do to be negative or painfully realistic; it was enjoyable to revel in flights of fancy with them, even though in the back of her mind, there loomed the realism and practicality of the matter.

  Thankfully, the ladies began to receive letters in the mail from their would-be beaus—Dorothy included. She could not help but beam when she retrieved the envelope with her name written on it in carefully-scripted handwriting. She wondered if Clint Edwards had hired a calligrapher for this task. She could not imagine that a store owner in the West had such nice handwriting.

  Dorothy brought the letter into her own apartment, as her friends had done with their own letters. She sat upon her bed and anxiously—yet carefully—tore the envelope open. She plucked the folded pages from the envelope and read through the letter several times, the smile on her face growing wider the more she read. She had tried so hard to make sure that she did not get too excited, but it was difficult not to be elated when she read Mr. Edwards’ words. They were filled with hope and equal enthusiasm about the possibility of her one day moving westward to be with his family.

  Dear Miss Aldridge,

  Thank you for your letter! It has made me and the boys so very happy. You seem to be quite a kind and thoughtful young lady. What sorts of things do you envision for your life outside of the sewing factory? I must confess right here at the outset that there are no sewing factories out here. I am sure you could have guessed that. There are only some small shops around, and I have the distinct honor of owning one of them. I appreciate your interest in helping me with it. You have the right sort of attitude, I am sure.

  My sons are characters, I must say. They are ten years old, so they are rambunctious and very talkative. Have you any experience with children? There is an orphanage in town that is a great place for the ladies in the area to help out at. I believe it allows them to pass the time and quenches their urge to care for children in need. You might be interested in working there since there is no dress shop or some such place for you to busy yourself here in Missoula Mills. I will not pretend that you won’t want something to do on your own and I will not assume that you will be fulfilled by my little shop alone.

  The passing of my late wife has left a rather large hole in our lives. I do think that Hank and Sam, my sons, have taken it much harder than I have. I suppose we grieve in different ways. After all, she was their mother and the only woman that they had ever known, really. I was married to her for ten years. She came out West with me and was so happy being a housewife while I went out and opened my store. I shall never forget her of course, nor shall I ever be able to replace her. I would not want to. But it is lonely out here, especially for a man who is used to having the company of a wife for so long. My sons do their best to make my days happy, but when they are in bed and I am left with my thoughts, I fear that I might burst from the sadness and solitude. I hope that I have not painted too sorry of a picture for you.

  You have described yourself as quite a vision. Might I ask for a photograph of you? I myself have light brown-colored hair and hazel eyes. I am tall and thin, especially now that my appetite has seemed to flee me. I shall enclose a portrait so you may see for yourself. I daresay that I hope it will not persuade you to change your mind about me and my family.

  I do so
look forward to receiving your next letter along with your photograph.

  Sincerest regards,

  Clint Edwards

  ****

  The short description that Mr. Edwards had provided sent Dorothy into a flutter. He seemed so handsome and sweet! She scrambled around, trying to find a suitable portrait that would somehow convey the best version of herself; she had not had the good fortune of having her portrait taken in so long. Then she took out the small photograph which Mr. Edwards had included with his letter and a giddiness went up her spine.

  He was indeed a handsome fellow! His hair appeared to be light, as he had described, and his eyes appeared so bright and hopeful. He looked a great deal younger than thirty-three, and she supposed that had something to do with the same difficulty in finding the time and money to get portraits taken. The attire that he wore spoke of a man who worked very hard for himself. He was dressed in what looked like sturdy denim work pants.

  Dorothy felt a bit silly, but she was glad that she was not writing to a cowboy like Virginia was. She was not sure if she could live that sort of lifestyle. Mr. Edwards was clearly a man of the West, but he had a noble profession. It was no big mystery from whence the money was earned.

  Since the wait was likely difficult for him as well, Dorothy continued her mad hunt through the apartment for a photograph. Finally, she found one she had taken at the factory, as a sort of identification portrait. She was wearing a simple gray dress; the usual plain attire that was worn in the textile factory. Her deep chocolate-colored hair was worn up in a bun, but a few loose locks hung down, helping to frame her pale face. Her brown eyes stared innocently and slightly vacantly from the photograph. Dorothy wished that she could have sent along a picture wherein she was smiling, but she knew that if she had smiled for a photograph, her jaw might have hurt for the rest of her life.

  Once she had decided on that photograph, she carefully placed it into a new envelope before penning her response to Clint Edwards.

  Dear Mr. Edwards,

  The town you have described sounds quite pleasing to me. It is a shame that there are not factories or more shops, but I suppose that there is a chance for those sorts of things to be established someday. It will take time and the arrival of more people, surely. As it is, working at the store you own would be quite a nice occupation, and I do think that I could enjoy spending time at the orphanage as well. That would be quite a new and exciting vocation! And it may help me to feel more prepared in motherhood.

  Regrettably, I do not have much experience in childcare. I had younger sisters growing up, however, and that is where I have gained some basic experience. I do not know how different little boys would be, and I am sure that there are many things that they do not share in common with little girls, but I am glad that I do at least know the basics. The orphanage will help me much in that regard.

  Your sons sound delightful. I do so hope that little Hank and Sam can learn to trust and love me, but I know that it shall take time. I have no delusions that they will react entirely with welcoming arms upon meeting me, but I am confident that they shall grow to appreciate me. It is surely quite difficult for them to move on after such a great loss and tragedy befalling them at such a young age. I do believe that gaining their trust will take time, but it is time that I am more than willing to take. I look forward to getting to know them, much as I am looking forward to getting to know you better.

  I adore the photograph that you have sent me. I have enclosed one of my own, with the same caveat. I hope that you will like my appearance and will not regret writing with me. I wish that I had been able to smile in the portrait, but know that I am smiling as I write to you. Indeed, I cannot stop smiling now that I know I have made your acquaintance and have some hope of going to meet you someday soon!

  Fondest regards,

  Dorothy Aldridge

  She carefully signed her name, thinking of Mr. Edwards’ penmanship and smiling. She was going to have to ask him about that. His entire letter had been written thusly, so unless he had hired a man to write everything for him, he did indeed have beautiful handwriting. Dorothy supposed that he would keep neat books if that was the case. Difficult to read would mean difficult to calculate. She was tickled pink to think that her beau had such a remarkable skill.

  ****

  Dorothy’s friends all seemed to be doing supremely well in their correspondence with their beaus. Eliza was writing to a sheriff and she seemed to be completely taken with him, finding his letters sweet enough to swoon over as she read them. Margaret’s intended was a doctor who worked hard and Virginia was thoroughly entertained by the letters from her rancher. It pleased Dorothy to know that they had all been lucky and had found men who seemed to go along with their varied interests and goals. It was not long before they all discovered that all of them were sending letters to the same small Montana town!

  “Could it be that we shall never need to be separated?” Margaret said, getting a bit sniffly at the thought.

  “How wonderful!” Virginia declared. “This is a blessing.”

  “I hope that we shall all be able to find each other,” Eliza said. “Since it is such a small town.”

  Dorothy mentioned the orphanage and they all indicated that they had heard of the place. Eliza’s beau had a sister who worked near it, in a school. Margaret’s beau had recommended it as a place for her to work. Dorothy grinned at her friends. “Then it’s a plan,” she said. “We shall meet in town at the orphanage if we do not cross paths before then.”

  Somehow, knowing that her three friends were going to end up in the very same town left Dorothy feeling even more confident and excited. Life was going to change, but it did not have to change so very much. And it would be much easier to go through these changes with her best friends nearby. With any luck, they would be able to continue to convene for the latest news from their lives as they had done all these years they had been living and working together in Boston.

  Even though Dorothy enjoyed working for the factory, she was beginning to think more about her presumed future now that she had one in mind. She thought about working in the orphanage, and how rewarding that would be for her. She thought, too, about working alongside Mr. Edwards in his store. Opportunities were abound in the West; even for a woman, it seemed. Dorothy was more excited about that than the prospect of marriage, though she knew that Mr. Edwards would have plenty of time to sway her in that direction, too.

  ****

  She was indeed growing a bit anxious as time passed and no letter arrived. Dorothy’s three friends each received their next letters, but there was nothing new for her. Then, at last, there was another beautifully-written envelope from Mr. Edwards. She brought it into the living room and sat down to read it at once after work, not even bothering to close herself up in her room this time. Margaret was reading her newest letter there as well.

  Things seemed to be moving rather quickly for Eliza and Virginia, but Dorothy was flattered that Mr. Edwards was taking his time, working to get to know her better and to let her know him, too. He had young sons to think about, and he likely did not want to rush into an arrangement that might jeopardize their happiness—especially when they were already suffering such a tremendous loss.

  My Dear Miss Aldridge,

  I thank you heartily for the portrait which you have given me. You are a beautiful young woman, as I have no doubt that you have been told very often in your life. I blush to think that a pearl such as yourself would want to be seen out here with me.

  Your eagerness brings me much joy. I do believe that having a positive attitude and a resolve to learn new things is what makes a person best able to handle any task. I am sure that I would be able to teach you all the things you should need to know whilst working in my store. Likewise, I am sure that you have the commitment and thoughtfulness that it takes to work in the orphanage. If you so choose, both options will be there for the taking for you. I will not force you to pick one, so long as you believe you can work
a little at each place and still commit to the children and me when you are at home. To be quite honest with you, this is the sort of wife I hope for.

  I think that a mother with sewing abilities is also quite a good thing, as my boys do like to play rough, and the resulting holes in their clothing, particularly the knees, can be quite a problem for me as I do not know the first thing about mending. This is something that they may not appreciate, but I certainly shall. I hope that the factory in which you work shall not be too saddened in losing a diligent worker like you.

  I took the time to speak to the lady in charge at the orphanage, and they will be delighted to have you. She is a kind older woman, a widow who has been a prominent fixture in town the entire time I have been here, it seems. I think she shall be a good supervisor for you, and a fair one.

  As you can probably tell, I am trying my best to make all of the possible arrangements and think of everything that needs to be done in order for you to be happy here. I would so hate to have you arrive here in Missoula Mills without all of the things you desire at the ready.

  Please write to me and tell me if there is anything else that you would need from me in order for Missoula Mills and my home to feel like home to you. If it is something as bombastic as an elephant, just say the word and I shall see what I can do!

  With Sincerest Adoration,

  Clint Edwards

  Dorothy laughed aloud when she read this letter. Margaret looked up quizzically at her and then smiled. Both girls clearly adored their gentlemen pen-pals, but this was the first time either of them had openly guffawed at a letter.

  “I am glad to know that your beau is so amusing,” Margaret said. “Mine is a kind, dear man, but he does seem to have a rather gloomy life. Such is the life of a doctor in a small town, to be sure.”

  She sighed a little, and Dorothy hoped that Margaret was not jealous of her.