Mail Order Man

by Heather Gray

  Sarah remained quiet, her hands folded and resting on the countertop, waiting for Mrs. Jones to continue.

  “He was a perfect gentleman and kind, too.” Mrs. Jones seemed to be searching for the right words in vain.

  Sarah watched Mrs. Jones and tried to decipher what the woman was not saying. She realized there could only be one reason why the older woman would come all the way to the stage office to tell her, someone she normally spoke to only in passing, about her romantic woes. Trying to be as professional as possible to save them both from embarrassment, Sarah asked, “Are you here about the Eligible Female letters?”

  When Mrs. Jones nodded, Sarah continued, “I have the letters divided by approximate age of the writer and education level – some men are clearly college educated, and others are clearly not. If you can tell me which group you would like to look at, I can let you go through the letters. There are in truth hundreds of letters.”

  Suddenly looking panicked, Mrs. Jones whispered, “I don’t want to read all of those letters with men telling personal things. I only want a couple of letters.” Leaning on the counter in a way that would probably not be considered ladylike, Mrs. Jones asked, “Could you go through the letters for me? You know me well enough. Pick out five letters you think might be of interest to me, and then I can look over those and decide who to write to.”

  Several days had already passed since Sarah had reached her fill of reading letters. She dreaded the idea of going through any of the letters again. The expression on her face must have relayed some of her feelings to the woman standing across from her, for Mrs. Jones stood tall again and said, “It’s okay Sarah. Never mind. I… I had a nice time on Sunday, and even though we did not suit well for romance, it made me realize how lonely I’ve been. Made me think it might be nice to have someone to share my life with again. Ain’t nothing but a silly notion. I am neither young nor genteel. No one would be interested in marriage to someone like me.”

  Sarah’s heart sank and her stomach rose. “No, Mrs. Jones, please don’t say such a thing! You are a wonderful person with so much to offer, and there are many truly kind men in these letters. I’ve read so many letters that I reacted badly when you asked. Please forgive me. It would be an honor to go through and select some letters for you. I will have them by tomorrow. Come back by, and I will have five letters for you to choose from. I promise.”

  Since Sarah had such a short time ago gone on about not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep, Alice Jones raised an eyebrow at the young woman before her. “Sarah, you don’t have to. It truly is okay.”

  “Please let me do this for you, Mrs. Jones. I have read the hearts of many men in the pages of these letters, and I know there are several in there that would be suitable for you. There are good, kind men to choose from who truly seem sincere in their desire to find someone with whom to share their lives. A lot of them are lonely, and they deserve a chance to find someone, too, I think. So much attention has been shown to all the men who arrived in town here that the men who wrote these letters haven’t even had a chance.”

  Mrs. Jones nodded her permission and said, “Very well, Sarah, and thank you. Can we keep this quiet, though?” Sarah nodded, and the older woman added, “I’d like the men to be near my age if possible, but I don’t care about education, although I’m sure the educated men would not be interested in the likes of me.”

  ****

  Sarah was waving goodbye to Mrs. Jones as Samuel opened the door to enter the office. Tipping his hat, he held the door for Mrs. Jones. He then returned to his chair and newspaper. Getting comfortable in his seat, Samuel noticed Sarah staring at him. “Did you need something?” he asked amiably.

  Looking flustered, Sarah asked him if he could possibly move the chair outside and sit out on the stage platform for the afternoon. “I could, but why would I?” Samuel asked.

  Sarah stammered, “I…I need you to.” Staring at him defiantly, she added, “Don’t ask me why.”

  Not used to having the tables turned on him like this, Samuel said, “I thought I was the one keeping secrets.” When Sarah’s chin raised a notch higher in the air, Samuel conceded victory to her. “Alright then. I shall sit out on the platform. Will that be acceptable?” The look of relief on Sarah’s face was almost comical as she swiftly nodded. “You’re not used to confrontation, are you?” Samuel asked with a smile.

  “No, not really. Was I terribly rude?”

  “Not at all,” Samuel answered with a laugh. Then he added, “Do me a favor, will you?”

  “Of course.”

  “If the pot runs dry, come get me so I can make the coffee.” Samuel ducked out the door, chair and newspaper in hand, barely dodging the crumbled up ball of paper Sarah launched at him.

  Once settled on the platform, Samuel surreptitiously watched Sarah through the front window of the stage office. He didn’t mean to stare. He sincerely intended to continue reading the newspaper. The opportunity to watch her without making her self-conscious, though, was too much to ignore. He watched as Sarah moved something heavy behind the counter – the crate of letters, he assumed. Then Samuel followed her with his eyes as she folded her hands and bowed her head. She stood there like that for quite some time. She had to be praying for God’s wisdom about the letters.

  When Sarah settled down into a chair with a handful of letters and Samuel could only catch sight of the top of her head, he decided to return his attention back to his newspaper. That didn’t stop his eyes from occasionally – frequently, he corrected himself – straying back to Sarah’s form.

  ****

  As the day wore on, Sarah read through letter after letter for Mrs. Jones. Knowing the older woman was a somewhat reserved person, Sarah tried to pick men she felt would suit well with that. Sarah discarded several men who seemed to be a little too open about their feelings and wanting to find love. She didn’t think such letters would garner much respect from Mrs. Jones. Much as before, some of the letters made Sarah laugh, some made her sad and others made her wonder what would prompt someone to write such things. Sarah was bewildered as she looked over the letter presently in her hands.

  Dear Ma’am,

  I am seeking a wife and would like to make your acquaintance. I am a widower. My first wife died giving birth to our child. The baby died too. My next wife died of pneumonia during a bad winter. The next wife plumb went crazy and took her own life. I decided after that not to get married anymore, but then I saw your ad and thought maybe this time it would work out.

  While Sarah didn’t claim to know all there was to know about relationships, she was fairly certain telling a woman each of his previous wives had died was not the best way for a man to start a courtship. Shaking her head, she returned the letter to its envelope. She would not be passing that one on to Mrs. Jones.

  ****

  Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. Sarah bounded down the stairs, wanting to catch Mayor Smith before he left. She burst into the dining room with little thought for decorum only to find the mayor kissing his wife. Embarrassed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair, Sarah quickly backed out of the room. The two must get very little privacy, she realized, especially since she’d moved in with them. Even though her presence was temporary, she was sure it had to feel inconvenient to the couple at times.

  “Come sit down and join us for breakfast,” said the mayor. “I’d like to have a word with you.”

  Sarah meekly re-entered the room and sat down.

  “You know you have no reason to be embarrassed,” said the mayor kindly, his eyes on Sarah.

  She kept her eyes downcast and said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt such a private moment.”

  When the mayor burst out laughing, Sarah gawked at him, surprised he would laugh at her discomfort. She saw true mirth in the mayor’s eyes and was so dumbfounded she could do little more than nod as Mrs. Smith handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Sarah, dear,” began the mayor, “you might not realize this, bu
t married people kiss all the time.”

  When Sarah’s blush intensified, the mayor forged ahead. “If your mother had lived, I’m sure you would have walked in on many such private moments between your parents, and then you would know it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” In a conspiratorial whisper, the mayor added, “It’s a normal part of married life.”

  She was still uncomfortable, but Sarah was finally able to raise her eyes to look at the mayor. Instead of laughter, she saw sympathy in his eyes.

  “We don’t always realize what our children miss out on when they lose a parent. Some of the normal ways between husband and wife, for example, are things you don’t know about because, quite simply, you never got a chance to witness it. That’s okay, and certainly you want to respect a couple’s privacy, but when you do accidentally walk in on a husband and wife sharing a kiss, it’s okay. There is nothing shameful in Mrs. Smith and I kissing one another, but when you act embarrassed by our behavior, it seems that you find something shameful in our behavior. Does this make sense?”

  “I never thought of it that way.” After a brief pause, Sarah added, “I don’t know if I can choose not to be embarrassed, though. Some things embarrass me. I can’t help it.”

  “I understand perfectly,” said Mrs. Smith as she sat down at the table with her husband and Sarah. “The difference between behavior that is ladylike and that which is not, though, is in your reaction. You can be embarrassed without acting like it, right? Control your reaction, and, even if you are embarrassed, you will manage to behave in a way that does not cause further embarrassment.” Mrs. Smith studied Sarah until the young woman acknowledged her words.

  “Yes Ma’am, I think I understand,” Sarah said.

  Mrs. Smith’s words did make sense, and she did tend to get skittish in situations that made her uncomfortable. She had this very week been committing those kinds of behaviors to God and asking for His help to overcome those selfsame problems.

  Sarah said, “Thank you,” nodding at both the mayor and his wife.

  “Someday, Sarah, you will be married. If you choose your husband well, I wager you will find it perfectly acceptable to kiss him at the breakfast table.” Sarah blushed at the mayor’s good-humored words. In truth, when she contemplated the notion of kissing, Samuel’s face was the only one that came to mind. Such thoughts, when she let her mind wander there, were generally accompanied by a light case of the collywobbles, a racing pulse and weak knees.

  The mayor blessed the meal, and the three began eating. Minnie was feeling much better but had stayed up late reading a book the night before and was still asleep. Sarah had rushed down the stairs because she wanted to ask the mayor something, but they had all gotten sidetracked because of how she had reacted to the mayor kissing his wife. Shaking her head, Sarah ruefully considered her own folly.

  “So tell me, Sarah, what do you think of Minnie going off to college?” The mayor’s question was asked lightly, but Sarah was sure he wasn’t making casual conversation. The man sitting at the table with her was not one prone to idle chit chat.

  “I think it is the best thing for her. Minnie’s mind is always at work. Her mind longs to do great things, and the normal womanly pursuits here in Larkspur don’t quite seem to be enough for her. This has led her into trouble more than once. She always means well, but I think it would do her a world of good to experience some of the bigger things in this world,” Sarah spoke confidently.

  While Minnie’s announcement had been a shock at first, Sarah had given it some thought and truly believed it was the right choice for her friend.

  “What if she does not find what she is looking for at college?” asked the mayor.

  Looking at husband and wife, Sarah put down her fork and took a sip of coffee as she gathered her thoughts. She loved these people dearly and so wanted to impress them with her maturity.

  “I believe all decisions should be made prayerfully. If, prayerfully, everyone agrees college is the right thing for Minnie, then whether it turns out the way we expect it to or not, she has to go. We all need to learn to submit to God’s will, even when we don’t understand it or when the outcome is uncertain.”

  “Well said, Sarah,” the mayor’s voice rang with approval. “I still think of you and Minnie in pigtails with dolls in hand, but you aren’t a child any longer, are you? We’re going to have to start thinking of you as an adult before too much longer.”” A smile and wink accompanied the mayor’s words.

  The three ate in silence for a few moments before Sarah ventured, “Could I borrow the buggy today?”

  “What are your plans?” asked the mayor.

  Sarah explained that she would like to take another trip out to the Fitzgerald farm to try to speak with Mary and to make sure the kids were all okay.

  “I’m afraid not,” said the mayor firmly. “Mr. Fitzgerald is back at home, and I cannot have you going out there.”

  Sarah was daunted at the thought of Mr. Fitzgerald being out there. Perhaps if Samuel was to accompany her?

  She began to voice the question when the mayor raised his hand, “Sarah, not even with Samuel, okay? There are some things going on that you don’t know about, and I need you to trust me on this. The sheriff is making sure to patrol out by their farm, and deputies are checking in now and again on the family. So far everything is fine, but I cannot let you go out there.”

  “But,” began Sarah.

  Before she could even complete the thought, the mayor held up his hand again to stall her and firmly declared, “You can ask me about it again next week, but until then, not another word on the subject, okay? You need to trust me and respect my judgment on the matter.”

  “Yes, sir,” was Sarah’s less than enthusiastic response. Sarah felt more than a little disgruntled. In what would have been considered a pout had she been a younger woman, Sarah crossed her arms. I am tired of the men in my life telling me they can’t tell me anything! So much for being humble and respectful. Sarah barely restrained herself from stomping her foot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunday looked to be another lovely day. After last week’s scene with Mr. Fitzgerald, though, it was hard not to be skittish about the upcoming events. The same sense of excitement and anticipation that captured Sarah’s imagination last week was absent this week as the town prepared for the picnic after church.

  Determined not to be the wet blanket in their party, Sarah put on a smiling face and selected an attractive dress to wear. She chose a moss green dress with small blue flowers on it. It wasn’t her newest dress, but she liked the way it made her eyes stand out. Compliments always followed whenever she wore it. As a boon, since the dress wasn’t new, she didn’t mind sitting on the ground in it.

  Sarah stopped often during the morning to offer up a prayer on behalf of the Fitzgerald family. She knew the mayor was a man of his word, and if he said the sheriff was keeping a close watch, then she believed him. Nonetheless, her heart longed to reach out to Mary Fitzgerald, and Sarah felt hemmed in by the constraints of being a woman.

  The Smith family and Sarah headed off to church after breakfast. They had a quilt to sit on, their plates and utensils, and the food they were bringing for the picnic. Sarah noticed Mayor and Mrs. Smith also seemed a bit more somber this morning. Minnie chatted on happily, talking about different schools she was considering. She liked the sound of Vassar with its high educational standards, but New York seemed so far away. Lindenwood College for Women sounded lovely and was closer, being in Missouri, but it was still rather small, and she wasn’t sure it would challenge her the way she wanted. Mills Seminary was in San Francisco and sounded wonderfully exciting.

  As they pulled up to the church, Mr. Smith helped the ladies down from the buggy. He then reminded them a deputy was assigned to them for today’s picnic and they needed to do much as they had the week prior.

  “Stay out of the fracas as much as possible.” Then, turning to Sarah, he added, “Samuel will not be your deputy today. He’s been
assigned elsewhere. You’ll be in good hands, though, so don’t worry.”

  Sarah wasn’t certain what to make of Samuel’s being assigned elsewhere. She wondered if he would be watching another family or protecting another single young woman, an Eligible Female perhaps? Though she tried to prevent it, jealousy surged through her midsection followed by a flurry of butterflies doing somersaults. Minnie took Sarah’s hand, and the two followed Mayor and Mrs. Smith into church.

  Sarah heard nary a word of Reverend Green’s message this day. She desperately wanted to turn around and look for Samuel, but as they were sitting toward the front of the sanctuary, it would not be at all fitting for her to sit there craning her neck around to see everyone behind her. Even if she found herself unable to pay any attention to the sermon, she knew better than to cause a distraction for everybody else in the congregation.

  When the reverend completed his message, everyone rose to sing “Just As I Am.” Once the hymn was over, families exited outside.

  Young Arty Paulson stepped up to give Mrs. Smith a hand at the bottom of the church steps. “Hello, Ladies. I’ll be dining with you today per the sheriff’s request. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

  “Arthur Paulson, as I live and breathe, you must have grown a foot since I last saw you,” said Mrs. Smith amiably.

  “Yes, ma’am” The young man blushed and bobbed his head. “I did have a bit of a growth spurt there. My ma about gave up keeping me in pants that fit.”

  “Arty, it’s nice of you to join us. Did you set our blanket and basket out anywhere in particular?” asked Sarah.

  “Oh yes, Miss Sarah. Mr. Livingston gave me instructions on where to put you and how to stay at attention. I’m new to being a deputy, so I was glad for the direction. I want to do right by the sheriff. It was awful kind of him to give me this job. It don’t pay much, but I’ve been wanting to be a deputy for as long as I can remember.”