Evie set the duster on a marble-topped side table and put her hand over her apron pocket. “I have news, too. I was just coming to find you.”
“Tell me!”
“My plans are all set. I leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Trudy breathed, feeling dismayed. “Oh, Evie, that’s too soon for us to part. I’d hoped we could leave together.”
Evie’s face crumpled. “Oh, Trudy, that would have been so nice.”
Trudy wrapped Evie in her arms as if to keep her by her side. “I’m just being selfish. I know how much you’ve longed to leave.” She stepped back and placed a dramatic hand on her brow. “I can spare you to Mr. Holcomb.”
Evie laughed.
Trudy lowered her hand, only to grab the other woman’s. “We won’t let time and distance separate us, Evie,” she said in a determined tone.
Sudden tears brightened Evie’s eyes. “You’ve been so good to me,” she whispered. “We’ll always be friends.”
Trudy pressed her cheek to Evie’s. “No matter what else happens, we’ll have the solace of pouring our hearts out to each other in our letters.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
That afternoon, in her bedroom at her father’s house, Trudy leaned over the open hope chest, her parents’ Christmas gift when she was six years old, and inhaled the scents of cedar and rose sachet from the small bags she’d tucked inside. The chest was filled to the brim with the fruits of years of fine handwork, embroidered pillowcases edged with crocheted lace, sheets, towels, baby’s clothes, and a wedding nightgown, made in secret as soon as Anna had announced her engagement, which meant Trudy would be free to marry soon, too.
She lifted the nightgown, made of fine white cotton with real lace at the collar and sleeves, and held it against her body. Sliding over a few steps, Trudy stood in front of her oval full-length mirror to see her reflection. Soon, she’d be wearing this for her husband. She wondered what Seth would think of her in it. How he’d touch her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
A knock at her door made her hurriedly fold the nightgown and lay it in the chest. She closed the lid. “Come in.”
Her father stuck his head into the room. Upon seeing her, he walked forward, stopping next to the four-poster bed. Carl Bauer wore his best suit, the one he’d ordered for Anna’s wedding. “I’ve spoken with Minerva, and she has agreed to be my wife.”
“Oh, Papa!” Trudy flew across the room and hugged him. “I’m so glad.” She caught the familiar smell of cigar smoke on his waistcoat before she pulled back. “Not that there was ever any doubt.”
Her father tugged at his collar. “For a man proposing, Birdie, there’s always a doubt.”
“I never had any doubt, even if you did.”
He chuckled. “At least, that’s over with. I’d like you to be present at our wedding, so we’ll have the ceremony Saturday next before you leave. Something simple.”
Trudy had to swallow down a sudden lump of sadness. “That would be lovely, Papa.”
He looked around the room.
Trudy followed his gaze, seeing her pink rose-patterned wallpaper, big bed that had belonged to her maternal grandparents, with a matching bureau, wardrobe, desk, and washstand.
Her father stroked his beard. “You said Seth wrote that he didn’t have much furniture. Minerva has a houseful of possessions. She’d like you to go through the kitchen and take anything of ours you might need. She wants you to keep your furniture.” He waved around the room. “And take whatever else you want from the house. Save Seth from having to spend his money outfitting his place for you.”
A thrill went through Trudy at the thought of having familiar pieces in her new home. “The piano?”
“We certainly don’t need two. I imagine I can ship the piano out to wherever you’re going. I’m glad you chose a town with a railroad. I’ll pay for the shipment of everything as my wedding gift.”
Trudy grew misty-eyed. “Thank you, Papa.”
He cleared his throat. “I worry about you…” He shrugged. “That’s a father’s lot in life. I could have been like most men, I suppose. Putting my foot down about this notion of yours to become a mail-order bride. Could have stopped your sisters’ marriages as well. Chosen men for them close to home. But your happiness…your sisters’ happiness is more important to me. Even if it means letting you go, Birdie.”
“I know, Papa. I’m grateful.”
He held up his hand to make an important point. “Marriage is a serious moral and legal commitment, Gertrude Marie. Under normal circumstances, I’d never come between a husband and his wife, even with one of my own daughters. However, we don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. If this Seth Flanigan is a bad man…a drunkard, a philanderer, or beats you, God forbid.” Shaking his head, he paused, obviously upset by the idea. “I want you to return home immediately. Do you hear me? Don’t let misplaced pride keep you tied to someone who will break that spirit of yours. Promise me that.”
His words sent a shiver of fear down her spine. “I promise, Papa.”
“Good.” His expression relaxed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a leather pouch and pressed it into her hand. “One thousand dollars. I wish I was a wealthy man so I could give you more.”
Her fingers curled around the pouch. “Papa! You don’t need to do this.”
He shook his head. “Yes, I do, daughter. I gave the same amount to each of your sisters. However, one thing is different. I also put an extra fifty dollars in there. No matter what, I want you to always keep the price of a train ticket and a bit set aside, hidden from Seth. I want you to have the means to leave if you have to.”
Fear made her clutch the pouch, and Trudy had to force herself not to give in to a vision of being trapped with a horrible husband. “I will, Papa. I’ll set aside fifty dollars. But…” she tried to inject some levity into her tone. “If after a few years Seth proves to be a good man, I want to be released from this promise.”
His solemn expression lightened. “Two years, daughter.”
“Two years,” Trudy echoed with a nod.
He reached into his other pocket. “There’s something else.” He pulled out her mother’s garnet necklace and drop earrings. “I want you to have these. Before the wedding, I gave Anna your mother’s gold cross and before Lora’s I gave her your mother’s pearls.”
“I remembered them wearing the necklaces, but with all the other things going on during those days, I didn’t think to ask.”
He pressed the jewelry into her hand.
Trudy looked down at her palm. She could barely see the pieces through her sudden tears. The gold necklace with its faceted gems set in a cluster, with a big stone in the middle and smaller ones circling around it, had always been her favorite. “I will wear these and remember Mama and think of you.”
Her father swallowed, and moisture gleamed in his eyes. He pulled her into his arms for a hug. “Now make a list. I’ll go to the shipping office and arrange for them to come to the house next week, crate the furniture, and store everything in their warehouse.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“Then they can load the crates on the train to Montana on the day you leave.”
Hearing the exactness of his plans made her shiver. Her departure was becoming all too real. “I’ll start right away.”
He gave her a brisk nod and left the room.
Happiness welled up in her like champagne bubbles. Trudy spun in a circle, and then clasped her hands to her chest. Her gaze stopped on her desk, and she hurried over, sat, and pulled out paper, pen, and the inkwell. She’d better warn Seth to expect some possessions. But she wouldn’t tell him the extent. Let him be surprised.
* * *
Carrying a cast-iron frying pan and a gift of a crocheted doily with scalloped edges, as well as a lace collar and cuffs, Trudy knocked on the door of Evie’s room next to the kitchen. She’d waited until the other brides were busy and Mrs. Seymour holed up in her office befo
re tracking down the maid. The two women had become close friends, spending time together whenever Evie’s duties permitted.
I’m going to miss her when she leaves.
Evie opened the door, her face flushed and strained. But when she saw Trudy, her expression brightened. “Trudy, come in.”
Trudy stepped into the little room. Evie’s narrow cot was tucked under a window that looked onto the backyard rose walk. An orange crate stood at the foot of the bed, presumably for Evie’s things. A few pegs on the wall must have held her clothes. An open carpetbag sat on her bed, next to several spread-out dresses—a blue velvet, a yellow serge, and a brown muslin.
Trudy handed her the frying pan. “For you.”
“What’s this?”
“A wedding present. I told you how my father’s getting married and his bride has her own household. We have more frying pans than we know what to do with, even with me taking several to Sweetwater Springs. I want you to have one. Every bride should have something for her new kitchen.”
“Oh, Trudy.” Evie hugged the frying pan to her chest. “Thank you. I’ll think of you every time I cook something in it.”
“Only as long as you aren’t burning Chance’s supper! And remember, a frying pan can serve as a weapon as well.”
Evie laughed. “Not against my dear Chance.” Her expression turned solemn.
Trudy leaned closer. “Are you having second thoughts? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Not about Chance. I can hardly wait to become his bride.” Evie sat on her bed and drew Trudy down beside her. “Mrs. Seymour has had me hopping today, working to prepare for that tea she has planned for tomorrow with the Ladies’ Aid Society.” Evie bit her lip. “She totally forgot it was my day off and needs me to serve. I feel so guilty leaving her in the lurch.
“Evie, you should tell her the truth. I think Mrs. Seymour will forgive you for taking the letter.”
Evie shook her head. “I can’t risk it. But I’m worried about the tea. If my ticket wasn’t for tomorrow, I’d stay one more day. Who will serve the ladies?”
Trudy leaned over to hug Evie. “I will.”
Evie’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, you can’t. You and the other brides are supposed to be taking tea. You can’t be a servant.”
Trudy brushed a lock of hair off of Evie’s forehead. “Serving doesn’t make me a servant. Nor is it beneath one to serve. Think of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. I’m only handing out tea, sandwiches and cake, not scrubbing anyone’s dirty toes.”
Evie laughed, the tightness leaving her face and the haunted look from her eyes.
“Besides, I doubt anyone but me will be serving tea at Mr. Flanigan’s.”
“Thank you, my dear friend.” Evie squeezed Trudy’s hand. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Trudy’s vision blurred. “You’re very welcome.”
“If only you had chosen a husband in Y Knot. We could have seen each other frequently.”
Trudy’s laughter chased away her tears. “We’ll write letters. Which brings me to my second present.” She handed Evie a packet of tissue paper tied with a blue ribbon. “Something new and fancy for you and that Montana home Chance is building for you.”
Evie gave Trudy a delighted smile, and opened the package to see a crocheted lace collar and cuffs and a round doily. “Oh, Trudy!” Evie touched them with the tip of her finger, then placed the whole lot on the bed and picked up one article at a time to study the workmanship. “They’re beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like them.” Trudy spotted the handkerchief she’d already loaned Evie for her wedding day spread out on the bed near the yellow dress. She walked over to the scrap of cloth and with a fingertip traced the lace edges and the blue embroidered flowers in the corners. She touched the words, LOVE NEVER FAILS, and felt a sudden surge of missing her mother.
Evie laid a hand on Trudy’s arm, and her eyes teared up. “You’ve become such a dear friend. Thank you so much for the loan of your mother’s handkerchief. I promise, I’ll send it back right after the ceremony, so you receive the hanky in time for your own wedding.”
Trudy leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Evie’s cheek. “I know you have to slip away early in the morning, and there won’t be time to talk, but I wanted to wish you happiness in your wedded life.”
This time, a tear spilled down Evie’s cheek. “And to you, too, my dear Trudy. May we both find the love we are seeking!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Trudy sat at the secretary in her bedroom, holding a letter from Evie in her hand. The two had agreed for Evie to write to Trudy’s home address, rather than the agency, just in case Mrs. Seymour was angry with her.
Trudy thought back to the day Evie left. She hadn’t seen Mrs. Seymour’s reaction because the woman stayed shut up in her office. But the matron told the cook, and from there, the news buzzed and spread through the household.
Two hours before the tea, Trudy knocked on the door of Mrs. Seymour’s study and was admitted. If the woman was upset, she didn’t show it. But Mrs. Seymour was a stern campaigner. An army wife who’d withstood the hardships and dangers of the West wouldn’t be thrown by the unexpected departure of a servant.
To Trudy’s relief, Mrs. Seymour accepted her offer to help serve the tea and hadn’t asked her any questions about Evie. While Trudy wouldn’t lie to the matron, she hadn’t look forward to the revelation that she’d known of Evie’s plans. The tea had gone well, with only one snide remark from Prudence about Trudy’s “servant” role.
Every day since that time, Trudy looked for a letter from Evie, even though she’d known it was too soon for one to arrive. Now that she finally held her friend’s letter in her hands, she was afraid to open the envelope. What if Evie was unhappy?
Unable to wait any longer, she carefully slit the envelope with her letter opener, pulled out the single sheet, and began to read.
My dearest Trudy,
As promised, I’m writing to you within the week. Actually, I’m writing on the day of my arrival because I am much too keyed up to read or rest. My beloved Chance Holcomb met my stagecoach today. I’ll admit, I was filled with anxiety before we met. Then, when he wrapped his hands around my waist, setting my feet to the earth, I felt my heart tumbling into his own.
Just in case you are wondering, my Chance is devilishly handsome, just like I’d imagined. His eyes make my insides do strange and funny things. Although we have only had a handful of words pass between us, I feel safe and loved, even though it’s too soon to know what his true feelings are.
On arrival, he greeted me with a most romantic line, which made my face heat. He also has reserved a room so I could bathe straight away before we dine tonight in the hotel. I am anxious to go out to his ranch and see the beautiful home completed especially for my arrival.
I arrived safely, if tired and dirty. As Mrs. Seymour likes to say, we must accept life as it’s given us. I hope the situation wasn’t too bad after I left. Please give my love and devotion to all the girls, but especially Heather, Kathryn, Darcy and Angelina, for they seem to share the same spirit of adventure as you and I.
I will anxiously await a return letter from you.
Love and prayers always,
Evie Davenport, soon to be Evie Holcomb
Upon finishing Evie’s letter, Trudy experienced a great sense of relief. Thank goodness, her friend had arrived safely and was delighted with her prospective husband. I hope I’m as lucky with Mr. Flanigan.
She reread the letter, then realized Evie hadn’t given her many details. She wanted to know everything! Trudy reached for some stationary. She would have to jest with her friend and take her to task.
* * *
All the way home, Seth carried Trudy’s letter tucked into his vest pocket for safekeeping. He didn’t even want it in the saddlebag with the newspapers. He looked forward to reading what she’d written and dreaded it, all at the same time. Their correspondence made the idea of marriag
e with a stranger all too real.
Once he’d taken care of Saint, Seth hurried into the house. He shoved some wood into the stove, stirred the banked coals to life, and then hung his coat, scarf, and hat on the antler rack. Pulling out a chair at the table, he sat to read Trudy’s letter. He read the single page through fast, then once again slower, allowing the meaning to seep in. Some lines jumped out at him.
I will arrive in Sweetwater Springs on the 14th.
Seth wasn’t sure he was ready for her to drop into his life so soon.
Don’t worry about new furniture. I’m sending out some of my own.
Seth tried to figure out how much Trudy intended to bring with her, and how he’d haul it from the train to his house. Would everything fit in his wagon? Would he need help loading and unloading? Were all her possessions arriving with her? Before? After?
He growled in frustration. By the time he wrote her these questions, she’d be on the train to Sweetwater Springs.
Seth laced his fingers behind his head and sat back in the chair, doing some serious thinking. If he had to cart furniture across McCurdy’s land, the man might very well make an unpleasant scene. Not the kind of neighborly welcome he’d want for his bride. Just the thought of an incident occurring was enough to send dread racing through his body.
The time had come. He needed to build a bridge over the stream on his own land. Cut down some trees and pull out the stumps to make a road. Just laying planks with some support underneath would do for now. Thank goodness there was only that thin stand of cottonwoods along the water. He’d still have to drive a mile longer when going to town, but that was better than the five miles needed to reach the ford.
Safer, though. If Mrs. Flanigan…his thought stumbled over the title…wanted to ride or drive to town on her own, he didn’t want her falling afoul of McCurdy. Who knew what the varmint might say to her? Might mention the time he spent in the saloon...the brawl...Lucy Belle.
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