by Cyndi Raye
Sophie knew it was important to Miss Addie to see the town growing. She was sure there was a monetary stake in it for the older woman. After all, it was Miss Addie’s resources and smarts that helped to build Wichita Falls. She had heard from her father that Miss Addie used inherited land certificates to buy the boarding house and helped to fund many businesses at first.
“What about his saloon right here? Will Salem just give it up?”
Miss Addie leaned in. “Sophie, the new sheriff of Mill’s Ridge is a smart man. He leased the saloon to Jeffrey, packed most of his clothes in his saddle bags and then came to see me.”
Sophie’s curiosity was peaked. The only reason a man would come to the boarding house to see Miss Addie was either to rent a room, which Salem didn’t need, or, to find a mail order bride.
Her eyes widened.
Fear struck out like a mean old bear mauling a mountain lion.
“What was he doing here, then?”
Miss Addie leaned in again. “I usually keep quiet about my clients wants and needs but since you and I are working together, I can share. Mr. Nightingale has asked me to find him a mail order bride. He seems to think as sheriff it would be proper to start a family. When he is officially appointed the new town’s sheriff at the ceremony next week, he feels it will look better to have a family. Those were his exact words.”
Sophie gulped. Yes, she took in a deep breath and gulped. Was she that quickly forgotten? “I see.”
Miss Addie spoke up. “What is it, my dear? You seem at a loss for words.”
She frowned. “Salem swore up and down he cared about me. He wanted me to stay in Mill’s Ridge. When I told him that I had made a promise to become a mail order bride, he brushed it aside like it didn’t mean anything at all.”
“How do you feel about Salem?”
Sophie stood. “It doesn’t matter, Miss Addie. A promise is a promise.”
Miss Addie stood. She placed an arm around the younger woman. “You are so wrong, dear. It does matter. But you will find out in your own way. Come along now, let’s settle on the porch until your, um, Mr. Nightingale returns.”
Chapter 6
The letters on Salem’s lap were working on her last nerve. She sat next to him in the buggy, the edge of her gown touching his pant leg just slightly. The bundle of letters were secured with a piece of brown twine.
In her own reticule, she held two bundles of letters for Elizabeth and Rose. The postmarks were from a variety of places, some as far as California. Sophie was anxious to dig in and see if she was any good at matchmaking. Of course, Miss Addie would have the final say, but Sophie wanted to try her hand at it herself.
The two had agreed on choosing three matches for each bride and agreeing together on the final match.
“Is there something about these letters that bothers you?” Salem asked, his voice low.
“I have to be honest. I’m curious about the bride you plan on choosing.”
“Jealous?”
She crossed her arms. “Salem, you know I can’t be jealous. I already told you my plans.”
Salem smirked. “It appears you have the same fate, sorting through a pile of letters. I noticed your reticule is full.”
“Those are for Elizabeth and Rose. Miss Addie is going to choose my intended. Although she hadn’t said a word if she found anyone yet. Which is strange. By now, she is usually way ahead of things.” Sophie fiddled with the string on her reticule. Miss Addie had always been prompt to get things rolling when it came to her matchmaking skills. She should at least have been giving Sophie an update.
Salem shrugged, tugging on the reins to slow the buggy. He looked over at her. “You’re not in a hurry to get back, are you?”
“Well, not so much. But, we’re only an hours ride to Mill’s Ridge.”
“I wanted to show you the river. Would you care to take a drive out of the ways, perhaps a mile or two?”
Sophie deemed it was safe with Salem, even though he spoke of marauders hurting her if she were alone. She figured it was his way of trying to protect her. “Why not? It is a lovely spring day and the ladies at the boarding house have everything under control.”
“I stopped at Jenna’s café. Bought us some cheese and delicious warm bread for lunch.”
“Oh, we are going on a picnic then?”
“Seems to be we are,” Salem agreed. “Then, if you are still curious about these letters, perhaps we can go through them. I know you care for me, Sophie. I’d like for you to help pick one of these brides for me. It will be much easier for me if I have your approval.”
Sophie almost fell off her seat. She knew exactly what the man was doing! It was so obvious to her now. Miss Addie and Salem were in cahoots. By making her jealous, he wanted her to give up her idea of going off to make herself a mail order bride. Did this mean he wanted her as a bride? This now changed everything, especially since Miss Addie approved. Was this the groom Miss Addie was determined to find for Sophie? Was Salem the reason behind not getting updates on her own groom?
An idea began to form in her mind. Sophie smiled from ear to ear. “Yes, I do believe I’d like to help you, Salem. It will be my pleasure.”
<><>
The large oak tree shaded their spot enough to keep the sun’s rays from heating the picnic area. Sophie nibbled on a piece of cheese while Salem handed her a letter. “You want me to read them aloud?”
“Yes, I like hearing your voice.”
“Salem, this isn’t helping.”
“Go on, read to me.”
She sighed. Swallowing her cheese, she opened the letter and began to read. This was the fifth letter. The other four she had read to herself and rejected right from the start. Even though most of the ladies seemed like sweet, loyal brides to be, she wasn’t about to hand over anyone else to her future husband. Yes, she knew exactly who she’d marry. A small giggle erupted.
“The letter is that funny?”
“No. It was a thought I had.”
“Care to share?”
She shook her head. Salem sat with his back against the oak tree, his legs crossed at the ankles. He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving plenty to the imagination. Sophie tried to keep her mind on the letters, but it was hard with him showing off his muscles like so. He had rolled up his sleeves too, baring his strong forearms as well. It was all a ploy, she knew. And it made her feel reckless.
She wanted to run her hand along his muscular arm and plant a kiss on that chest of his. Oh my! She began to fan herself with the letter.
Salem watched her with hooded eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing. He smiled, a lazy kind of smile where his mouth turned up.
“Stop it right now!” Sophie whispered, fanning herself even more.
He sat up straight. “What?”
“Salem Nightingale!”
“I like the way you say my name.”
He was trying to draw her in. Admit she wanted him above anyone else. Well, she would tell him eventually, but not like this. She turned to the first letter and began to read. “Dear Mr. Nightingale, I am a widow with four children, looking for a man of means to take us in as his own. I am a jolly little blonde who loves to laugh. Even though my first marriage didn’t turn out well, I am intrigued with the thought of moving west and taking care of a household again. I make a whopping good casserole.”
Salem shook his head.
“How about this one.” She shuffled the paper, read to herself and burst out laughing.
He sat up, leaning forward trying to tear the page from her. Sophie held it behind her. “Now, now. If you want me to help you, then let me read.”
He sat back and shook his head. “Go on.”
Sophie tried to contain herself. “Dear Mr. Nightingale. I’m fat, forty and fully endowed. Looking for a partner to spend my nights and mostly nights with. If you are a proper gentleman, don’t bother to write back.”
Salem interrupted. “You can forget that one. I’m not interested in anyone of that a
ge.”
Sophie giggled. “I didn’t realize how much fun this was going to be.”
“You call this fun?” He didn’t look like he was having a bit of fun.
“Sure is! Why, it may take us awhile to go through each one of these. I’m sure there has to be a suitable bride for you in one of these letters.”
“Humph! I’m going for a swim. You want to swim?”
She shook her head. “Go on, I’ll finish these letters while you’re gone.”
They were sitting by the bank of the river. Sophie watched as he pulled off his shirt and got in the water. It wasn’t deep enough to dive in. She should perhaps turn her head, after all, he was practically naked with just a pair of pants on.
His absence gave her time to write her own letter. She dug inside her reticule, pulling a piece of paper from a box of stationary and pencil she purchased at the mercantile the other day. It always helped to have supplies close by and now was glad the proprietor suggested them. She scribbled on the paper, folded it up and slipped it between the other letters.
Satisfied, she waited until he was finished swimming.
He stood on the riverbank, shaking the water from himself like a dog. It even spritzed her, making Sophie laugh.
Salem sat down alongside her, his pants wet from the swim. His shirt clung to him like a second skin. She tried to keep her eyes to herself but failed.
She forced herself to keep up with the farce. “I found the one I think you will be happy with.”
Salem frowned. “I had forgotten about those letters. It’s nice sitting here with you, enjoying the sounds of the river and the watching those beautiful puffy clouds in the sky.”
Sophie smiled. It was true. She did enjoy this time with him. “You will be pleased to know the bride I picked for you loves the same thing. You aren’t going to believe this one.” She dug through the letters, pretending to search. “Oh, here it is!” Unfolding the paper, she peeked at him first before reading, “Dear Mr. Nightingale, I am a nicely built, tall woman, with lovely auburn hair. I have a beautiful smile you will love, because it is fond of laughing. I am dreaming right now of going on long walks with you, buggy rides on a whim and sitting by the river bank, gazing at the clouds in the beautiful western sky.
When we are married, our house will be filled with love and laughter, and children of all ages. I can cook, clean and keep you smiling. When you come home from long hours as sheriff, my food will fill your belly and my love will warm you at night. If this sounds like a life you would like to share, write back right away. The matchmaker told me so much about you, I can barely stand us being so far apart. Write back right away and tell me I’m yours, so I can come out on the first train that departs to your city. Yours truly, Cynthia Weaver.”
Salem coughed. He sat up again. He stared at Sophie for so long it made her nervous. “She seems fine. I assume you approve?”
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Even though she was actually describing herself, somehow she felt as though he were forgetting her completely. This matchmaking was awful business when it was so personal. “Yes, I think we should, I mean, you should respond immediately.”
“Sophie, will you help me write the letter? I’m not very good at saying things to strangers.”
Sophie didn’t want to write his words to a pretend woman! What had she done? Perhaps this game they played needed to come to a halt. Even so, she responded affirmatively. “Of course I will. After dinner this evening, I’ll help you pen a letter.”
He rose, holding out a hand to help her up. “We best be on our way then. I’m anxious now to get the letter out and have her come right away. There’s no chance you’ll change your mind, right?” His face was so close to hers. Salem gazed in to her eyes.
“No, no chance.” Those three words were so hard to say.
“Well, then. Let’s get going. Thank you for your help.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way to Mill’s Ridge. Sophie couldn’t help but fidget. Wait until he found out it was indeed her all along.
<><>
Salem’s mind was whirling. Where had she come up with the name Cynthia Weaver? At least now he knew what she was going to do. He didn’t dare let her know he was on to her scheme. Salem had been floating lazily in the water when he watched her tear through her reticule, pulling out pencil and paper, to hastily write the letter she had recently read to him.
He had watched as she had pushed it between the pile of letters. Smiling, he went along with the ruse, knowing she had just included herself in the mail order bride group. This way, Miss Addie was giving her away as a mail order bride and Sophie didn’t have to feel guilty.
He had first thought he’d imagined what she had done until she read him the letter. A stranger wouldn’t have known he was going to be sheriff. Even so, he deserved to be tricked, after all, it was what he was doing to her. Miss Addie had only agreed to go along with the idea when he told her how Sophie was determined to keep her promise to become a mail order bride.
Miss Addie admitted she had known all along how Salem felt about Sophie. She told him it was in her plans for the two of them to be together. She had watched it play out and hadn’t expected Sophie to go through with her mail order bride promise after she fell in love with Salem.
Clearly, the two never realized how determined Sophie was to keep a promise. A woman like that was hard to come by, even if she was the most stubborn in the territory.
Since Wes was doing such a fine job at the saloon, Salem stayed to have the letter written. When the women had cleared the table, he sat back down, waiting on Sophie to finish up.
Rose grabbed a shawl. “We’re all going on an evening stroll. Who cares to join us?”
The married couple immediately agreed as well as Reverend Pope and the new land agent who hadn’t spoken much since his arrival. His head had been in paperwork every single moment of the day. “It will be nice to take a stroll,” he said, tucking his papers inside a large book. “I’ll be right back.”
“Meet us on the porch,” Rose told him. Everyone shuffled out onto the porch, leaving Sophie and Salem sitting at the table.
“I brought some lovely stationary for you to write on,” Sophie offered. “I even sprayed it with some lavender scents.”
Salem lifted the sheet of paper to his nose. He inhaled deeply. “Ah, Sophie, this smells like you and it’s given me inspiration. Do you mind writing for me?”
“That’s quite odd, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. I was speaking with Miss Addie and she said most men can’t spell. They have someone else to write for them.”
“Can you spell, Salem?”
“Of course, but I can’t think of what I want to say and write it at the same time.”
“That’s odd.”
“Isn’t it?” he agreed. He handed the paper back to her. Leaning back, his eyes hooded, he sighed. “Dearest Miss Weaver.”
Sophie began to write. Her head was down, concentrating on the words, lifting it only to dip the tip of the goose feather pen in the bottle of ink nearby. Salem grinned. “I find it delightful you want to make a loving home here with me in Mill’s Ridge. As sheriff, I’ll protect you with my heart and soul. Our long walks along the river will be a nightly occurrence and we’ll share the lovely clouds as well as steal kisses under the moonlight and stars. As you fill my home with children, I will bring you a beautiful flower every single day as evidence of my adoration. I’ve enclosed money for a ticket. I can’t bear to be so far apart. Come as quickly as you can. I am waiting for you, my bride. Yours truly, Salem Nightingale.
Salem watched as a tear fell on to the paper. She turned her face to him, unshed tears ready to pool over. “Those are beautiful words, Salem. Your intended is indeed a lucky woman.”
Salem was tired of the ruse. He began to reach out to touch her cheek. “It could be you. You know that, Sophie.”
Sophie was quick to swipe the tears and change her stance. “Oh, Salem, you m
ust stop this immediately. Words like that are cheating words. You’ve found this bride, now don’t go trying to charm me!”
She wasn’t ready to give up her game yet, he could see that. If it made her feel better to do things this way, then he was alright with that. She was a loyal woman. She had promised Miss Addie she would become a mail order bride and if this was the only way to do it so she wouldn’t feel as if she cheated Miss Addie, then so be it. Salem had almost slipped. He had to be careful.
He dished money from his pocket and slid it on the table. “Tell her to buy the most beautiful wedding dress and wear it when she gets off the train. I’m going to marry her the moment her feet touch the Texas dirt.”
“I know the perfect place to have the wedding since there is no church in Mill’s Ridge, Salem.”
“Where, my, uh, where?”
“My old homestead, it sits along the river. It’s beautiful there, that’s the reason my father bought the property. At night, the stars come out, their tiny lights brilliantly shinning. During sunset, the colors are so inspiring an artist would die for a chance to paint the sky.” She wrapped her arms around herself and smiled at him. “It would be an honor to have a wedding there. After all, I do own the land now that both my parents are gone.”
“Show me?”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. You best take a wrap in case it gets chilly.”
Sophie stood, giving herself a moment, sighing. “I guess we could go. I haven’t been back since, well, since I was taken and my father was murdered.”
“We should settle this before the wedding. It will be too hard then.”
Sophie went for her evening wrap. “I tend to agree.” She placed the wrap across her shoulders and went towards the door. “I’ll be glad to have you along as I confront these demons.”
Salem knew she was brave, facing another fear. “That’s my bride.”
She swung around. “What did you say?”
“That’s right. That’s what I said. I’ll be glad to be along with you.”
Sophie had a confused look on her face as she walked out the door.