by Sarah Thorn
“Oh dear,” she said loudly so that small listening ears would hear. “Oh, my! Andrew will be so unhappy about this. I can’t imagine who could have done it!” She silently picked up a small hard ball that was still rocking in place under a table near the smashed vase. She slipped the ball into her pocket. “Oh dear.” She shook her head. “Could this have been a ghost? Oh, how will I tell Andrew there is a ghost in this house!”
She heard the sound of a small gasp from the other side of the open door into the foyer. It was followed by several muffled sounds of “shhh”.
“What will I do? A ghost!” She said again, directing her words toward the doorway.
“Oh! Oh, oh, is there really a ghost? Is there, Miss Ella?” Carl came running into the room and threw himself into Ella’s skirt, balling it up and pressing his face into it. She put one hand on his back and patted him.
“Shut your bazoo, Carl!” Raymie said in an irritating voice, also coming into the room. “You know it wasn’t a ghost! She’s just trying to scare you.”
Ella shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to scare him, Raymie. I was just trying to draw you, four boys, out. You did this, didn’t you? With this?” She pulled the ball out of her pocket and held it out for them to see. The other two boys were poking their heads around to see what she was doing. They came in the room, looking distraught and threw themselves on the couch. Peter hung his head, his small cheeks red. Freddie pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Raymie was the one who appeared most upset, crossing his arms over his chest and plopping down on a big high-backed chair sitting next to the couch.
“I get bored around here!” He said angrily.
“I’m sure you do. You should be in school.”
“We don’t need to go to school!” He said abruptly. “We won’t need that when we’re working here on this farm.”
“Surely your papa will let you go to the schoolhouse if you want to.”
“I don’t want to!” Raymie exclaimed, giving her a furious look.
“You don’t?”
“He does, too!” Peter said, quietly. Raymie glared at him. “Well, you do, Raymie. I heard you telling Freddie even just a couple of days ago. You said you wanted to learn to read, and you were mad because you don’t know how.”
“I do know how to read!”
“No, you don’t.” Peter shook his head.
“You don’t know how to read, Raymie?” Ella was surprised and disappointed. She would have thought that at least the oldest one would have learned that by now. “It’s very important that you know how to read. Especially since you want to work on the farm.”
“I don’t want to work on the farm!” Suddenly Raymie stood up; his small fists clenched and his eyes filled with tears. Ella’s heart broke looking up at him. She took a step closer and reached out to him, but he pulled away. “I want to work in a bank! It’s not fair!” He bolted out of the room and up the stairs. A few moments later, the door to his room was slammed shut.
Ella was left in shock. He was so embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. Freddie gave her a smile and walked out without a word. Shortly afterward, Peter followed, never taking his eyes off the floor. Both boys went up the steps.
Ella looked down at Carl, who was staring up at her. “He’s mad,” Carl said.
Ella nodded and looked at the stairs. “Yes, I think he is mad.”
She leaned down and picked the little boy up, resting him on her hip. He was too big to carry like a baby, but he held on to her as if he was one. She carried him up the stairs and opened Raymie’s door without knocking. She set Carl down and surveyed the scene. Peter and Freddie were simply sitting on Raymie’s bed while the young boy pressed his face into his pillow. Carl immediately went to the bed, climbed up on it and covered his oldest brother with a hug, resting his cheek on Raymie’s back and wrapping his small arms around his brother as much as he could.
Raymie didn’t move, accepting his little brother’s love without a word. Again, Ella felt her heart melt for the boys and their obvious love for each other. She went to the bed and sat in an open area, placing one hand on Raymie’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry I embarrassed you, Raymie. Please don’t be upset anymore. I tell you, you can be happy about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Raymie’s voice was muffled but sounded hopeful.
“You can learn to read any time in your life. I have three younger brothers at home, and I taught them all to read. My papa thought that reading and having an education was very important, even for a girl! So he taught me and I taught them. I can teach you, too, if you want.”
Raymie sat up but didn’t look at her. Carl transferred himself to Ella, draping himself over her back and wrapping his arms around her neck. She lifted one hand and patted his arms instinctively, feeling a great deal of affection for the little tyke.
“I can learn to read?”
“Of course, you have just as much…” Something behind Raymie on the wall caught her attention, and she focused on it. All four boys looked up at her face when she suddenly stopped talking. “What is this?” She mumbled to herself. She stood up, taking Carl with her as he wrapped his legs around her waist so she could piggy-back him. She carried him to the wall and bent down. There was a bit of wallpaper torn away. She lifted her fingers, grabbed it and pulled it so that it ripped some more. She heard a gasp behind her and Freddie spoke up.
“That’s wallpaper Papa put up just for Raymie. It’s his favorite color. He’s gonna be mad.”
Ella continued to rip the wallpaper off, feeling a bit of nervous excitement flow through her. She lowered Carl to the floor and ripped even more down. Behind the green wallpaper, there were pages and pages of newspaper. The section that had caught her eye read in big bold letters Jim Smiley and his Jumping Frog. Someone had covered the wall with an old New York Saturday Press from 1865. She was shocked that it was still readable after all the years that had passed.
“We can start now if you like.” She looked back to smile at the four boys. Their eyes had widened, and they looked at the wall curiously. “I can read this story to you. It’s a very interesting story about a man and his jumping frog. Would you like for me to read it to you?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Ella!” Freddie was the first one to respond, and his brothers followed suit quickly. Even Raymie had regained his composure and came over to look at the words on the wall.
An hour later, Andrew came through the front door and stood still for a moment. The house was quiet. It was never quiet. He looked around suspiciously, noticing the broken vase that had been partially cleaned up. He glanced down the hallway and then up the stairs nervously.
“Boys?” he called out and took the stairs up two at a time. The first door to the right was Raymie’s so he swung it open.
He didn’t expect to see his four sons sitting on the floor surrounding Ella. Carl was once again on her back. She appeared to be reading from papers they had ripped down from the wall.
“What is going on?”
Freddie was the first one on his feet to run toward his father.
“Papa!” he called out excitedly. “Mama Ella is teaching us to read! She says we don’t have to go to the schoolhouse if we don’t want to and that she’ll teach us right here. But I want to go to the schoolhouse, papa, that’s where other kids are! And Raymie wants to be a banker, papa! He does!”
With that, the other three boys approached their father and started talking all at once.
“Whoa, my sons!” Andrew laughed. He gestured for Ella to come to him, as well. She got to her feet and approached slowly. He noticed she looked nervous and shook his head, reaching out to touch her cheek and brush a loose strand of hair away from her face, gently pushing it behind her ear.
“Is this true? You would like to teach my sons? You don’t mind being here with them all the time?”
She shook her head. “Not at all, Andrew. I would be proud to teach them. They are lovely boys, you know.”
>
He raised his eyebrows. “You are the first to say that, my dear. I am glad. I am very glad.” He pulled her into a hug that she didn’t expect. She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest with a sigh. Tingles covered her when he whispered in her ear. “Do you think you can take a grouchy old man and fall in love with him, too?”
She looked up at his deep green eyes and had to admit it. “Yes,” she said. “I think I already have.”
“I have been distant,” he said in a low voice.
“I have been watching. You are a good father and a good man with plenty to be concerned about. You work hard for these boys. They know it and so do I. I am proud to be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Ella. I really am.”
He lowered his head and gave her a kiss, which she returned. It was the warmest, best kiss she had ever had. And it was only the beginning.
*****
THE END
MAIL ORDER BRIDE - A Sheriff’s Heart
Chapter One
The napkin in Hettie’s hands was nearly ripped to shreds before she noticed she was pulling it apart. She stopped, felt her cheeks flush and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. She licked her lips and looked back out the window at the passing scenery. She was leaving everything behind, her father, brother and uncle, her best friend and her dream of being the schoolteacher for the town she grew up in.
She was nervous but knew what needed to be done. The man she was going to meet and marry had given her father enough money to get the store out of the red and into the black. She needed to be strong and accept that things had to change.
At 24, she had never expected to leave her home and travel across the country to marry a stranger. But it was apparently her lot in life. God must have decided this for her or she wouldn’t have felt as compelled to go when her father mentioned it. He’d shown her the ad and asked if she would be willing to make that kind of change. The war had put an economic strain on their small town, and the store was beginning to fail. Although her family were all supporters of President Lincoln, it didn’t put money in their accounts.
James Banks had placed the ad. He was Sheriff of the town of Elko, in Nevada, and was looking for a bride. He was willing to help them financially if she would agree to travel there and marry him. She had accepted.
It was four weeks ago that the prospect of this adventure was placed before Hettie. Her mother had died when she was only twelve; she barely remembered her. She had grown up in the loving, firm care of her father and uncle, her mother’s brother. Her older brother of two years had also vowed to protect her throughout her life and had held true to that statement, keeping her safe from harm whenever it approached. And it had.
Hettie was fully aware of the methods of men. She had sometimes been accused of being too rough, though she was a small, fit young lady, with long blond hair that waved around her petite face. Her eyes sparkled an aquamarine blue and were framed by long dark blond eyelashes. She had small red lips and high cheekbones. She certainly didn’t look rough on the outside.
She wondered what James was like. A Sheriff. She guessed he might have a lot of rough characters he had to deal with regularly. She hoped he wasn’t a big, tough man. She didn’t want to be fighting for the rest of her life. That sounded miserable.
She was working herself into a frenzy. She pulled in a deep breath and relaxed her muscles. She would have a headache by the time she got there if she wasn’t careful. That was the last thing she needed.
“Are you all right, dear?” the elderly woman sitting next to her leaned forward and looked up into her eyes. Hettie gave the woman a smile and nodded.
“I am, thank you.”
“You look very nervous. Is this your first time on the train?”
“I did a little traveling with my father when I was younger,” Hettie confessed. “But this time, I am traveling alone. I’m not a little girl anymore. But I feel like one inside.”
The woman nodded emphatically. “I can understand that, sweetie. You are off on your own adventure then?”
“Yes, I’m going to the West to start a new life.”
“Oh, my. Leaving all you knew behind, are you?”
“Yes.”
The woman nodded, put a hand forward and rested it on Hettie’s “I’m Ester Canaberry. What’s your name?”
“Hettie Longfield.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you, Hettie. Do you know where you will be living when you get to the West?”
“Elko. I’ll be wed to the Sheriff there.”
“How interesting.” Ester nodded, taking her hand back and resting it in the other small wrinkled one on her lap. The knitting needles she had been using clinked when she set her hands down. “Do you know how to knit?” She asked, glancing down.
“I do.” Hettie nodded.
“Would you like to do some with me while we travel?”
Hettie had to smile again. She nodded without a word and lifted her hands to receive the work Ester had been working on. She inspected it. “Is it a bonnet?”
“It is. It’s for my great grand baby girl, Mona. I am also traveling to Nevada, but not Elko. That’s where my daughter lives now. She went there in the same fashion as you.”
Hettie’s eyes opened wide. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”
Ester tilted her head. “Yes, it does seem so.”
Ester’s stop was before Hettie’s, so she spent the last hour riding by herself. She had finished the bonnet for Ester, who praised the work vehemently, making Hettie blush furiously. She was relieved to hear that her stop was next and gathered her bag in her lap, retrieving her coat from where she had set it next to her. She certainly didn’t need it. The air was very warm and dry.
She patiently waited until she was given permission to depart. She looked out through the window at the platform outside. It was deserted. She pulled in a deep breath, stood up and walked out of the cabin.
She was the only one leaving the train, but there were several people getting on. She watched them when she stepped off as they said goodbye to their friends or family. It made her miss her brother and father.
A couple was coming toward her with attentive looks. She straightened her spine and made sure a pleasant look was on her face. They didn’t look very happy, but they also didn’t look unfriendly. She was confused by their presence and prepared herself for whatever might be coming her way.
“Hello!” The woman was the first one to greet her. She was tall, slender and dressed in a single layer dress, tall boots that reached halfway up her calves and was carrying a parasol with bright colors on it. Hettie had to assume it was to keep the sun from bursting down too much on the woman’s head because there was not a single chance of rain. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
“Hello,” Hettie responded, smiling at the woman and reaching out to take her hand.
“You are Hettie?”
“I am.”
The woman nodded and looked back at the man she was with. He was tall, muscled and looked like he wanted to turn around and run right then and there. Hettie was somewhat amused, wondering if he was the man she was to marry. He certainly didn’t have the countenance of a Sheriff. She suddenly envisioned herself taking over as Sheriff of the town in his place. She lifted her hand to hide a giggle.
“This is John, my husband. I am Elizabeth Bannerman, but you can call me Liz. We are here to pick you up. Are you prepared? Do you have your bags?”
“This is what I have here.” She gestured to the two luggage bags sitting next to her.
Liz looked up at John and nodded. He gave her a distinct look, leaned down and picked up the bags. Without saying a word, he turned and went back toward the edge of the platform, where six steps would take them down to the parking area. Hettie saw a pretty yellow carriage waiting there, with two horses leading it that looked tall and majestic.
“Very nice carriage,” Hettie said, admiringly.
�
�Why, thank you, Hettie.”
Once they were in the carriage, Hettie tried not to mention the tension between the husband and wife. It was so thick; Hettie thought she would be able to cut it with a knife. She looked from one to the other. He was looking out the window, his jaw set. She was smiling at Hettie with a nervous look.
“May I ask why James did not come to get me?” Hettie asked in a small voice. She was a strong woman, but the pressure in the room was palpable.
John made a strange, grunting sound in his throat and Liz cast him a look before dropping her eyes.
“You need to tell her before we get there, Liz. You can’t leave her in the dark.”
“I’m sorry?” Suddenly Hettie was afraid she had made a bad decision answering the ad. She peered at both of them, settling her eyes on Liz’s friendly eyes to calm herself.
Liz sighed deeply and leaned forward. She put her hands on Hettie’s knees and looked at her pleadingly.
“John is upset because I…you…well, you see, John and I decided to play matchmaker.”
“This is you, Liz.” John shook his head. “I was skeptical.”
“You didn’t have any problems with it before, John.”
“I changed my mind.”
“It’s too late for that, and you know it.”
“Please tell me what’s going on.” Hettie pleaded, taking Liz’s hands and squeezing them gently.
Liz pressed her lips together in an attempt to give Hettie a reassuring look. “I placed the ad and sent for you, dear. James is my brother, and I feel he has been alone long enough.”
“How long has he been alone?” Hettie asked, the tightness in her chest loosening just a little with the secure sound of Liz’s voice.
“A little over three years. And you have never been married?”
“No. In his…your letter, you didn’t mention how old James is.”
“He’s 29.”
Hettie was relieved he wasn’t too much older than she was. “Has he any children?”