“Mountains?” Alice looked confused, as if not willing to believe what she had just been told. “How do you know him?”
“He’s a trapper. It was through selling furs.”
She was lying right through her teeth and knew it, she would be paying for this later, but to get Alice and possibly everyone else off her back, Meg was willing to do it. She knew the Lord was watching her, so she made a point of silently begging repentance.
“How did you meet Mr. Tucker?” Alice asked sweetly. Meg knew that the woman was trying to get enough gossip together to discuss in the cafe.
“I’d rather not say. He’s an extremely private person. We keep in touch through letters.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
Meg gave Alice her most saccharine smile. “If the Lord allows it. After all, I’m nearly an old maid… and past my prime,” she repeated Alice’s words back to her. “If you’ll excuse me,” Meg pointed to the sky, “It looks like a storm is coming. I hope you get your shopping done in time, Alice. Have a good day.”
Meg purposefully walked past Alice and back into the store.
“Did you forget something, dear?” Mrs. Hanson asked from behind a tower of peaches.
“I was wondering when the next post goes out.”
Mrs. Hanson walked back over to the counter and stepped behind a gated area marked Post Office. “Oh, they should be picking it up later today.”
“When’s the next one?”
Mrs. Hanson ran her finger down the side of the window. “They change the day every week. It will be next Wednesday.”
“Oh,” Meg said, biting her fingernail. “I guess I need to get it done today then. I’d like to buy two sheets of stationery, an envelope, and a stamp.”
“Where is the letter going?”
“Nomad, Montana.”
Mrs. Hanson raised her eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She opened a drawer and slid two sheets of white paper and a small envelope towards Meg. “You can write your letter over there,” she said, pointing to a desk in the corner.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Meg said taking the sheets and racing over to the desk. She opened the inkpot and dipped the nib of the fountain pen in the inky liquid.
She heard the bell in the background but ignored it as she lowered her head to write.
Chapter 4
Mid-November, Nomad, Montana
“She’s arriving tomorrow.”
Cole took a moment to process the words Minnie just relayed. He had decided maybe it would be a good idea to find a mother for his children. After all, if it worked for a confirmed bachelor like Jonathan McRaney, then perhaps Minnie might be able to help him find a suitable wife. So, he loaded up the children and headed into town to ask her assistance in drafting an advertisement.
He watched Minnie blink several times. Finally, Cole scratched his head and responded. “Excuse me?”
“Pa! Pa!”
Cole turned to his middle son. “Don’t interrupt, Jack.”
“But Pa!” Jack yanked on Cole’s pants.
“What is it?” Cole asked his son sharply.
“Luella’s dress caught fire!”
“What?” Cole said.
“Oh, my goodness!” Minnie said, flying behind the counter towards the potbelly stove that was in the corner. She reached Luella first and picked up the small child. Cole was right behind her.
“Is she hurt?”
“She ain’t hurt, Pa,” Frank said.
“It looks like her dress was singed, that’s all,” Minnie said giving Luella a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go get some milk, shall we?” Cole watched as Minnie carried Luella over to the counter and plopped her on a chair. He saw the bottom of Luella’s dress was deep brown where it burned. She was growing out of the dress anyway; it might be time to turn it into rags. He turned and looked at his son.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
“An ember fell out when I was turning the potatoes.” Cole had brought six potatoes to heat up in the embers of the stove. He would pop them in pockets and under blankets to keep the children warm on the ride home. Tears started to well up in Frank’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Pa.”
Cole ran a hand down his face. “I know you are, son. We can discuss when we get home.”
“Uh-oh,” Jack whispered. “You know what that means!”
Cole watched Frank’s hand involuntarily go to cover his backside. He went over and put a hand on his son’s shoulders. “No one is being punished. It was an accident, son. Minnie said that she wasn’t hurt. You just need to watch her more carefully, otherwise, she might get hurt. Be careful with those potatoes.”
Cole walked back to the counter and kissed the top of Luella’s head. “Now, what did you say earlier?”
“I said your bride will arrive tomorrow.”
“But I haven’t put together an advertisement.”
Minnie waved her hands at Cole. She reached under the counter. “After you came in in Spring, we put an advertisement in the paper for you. There were a few responses, but there was one that stood out.”
“So, you just decided to invite her out here?”
Minnie nodded. “She can stay with some of the families in town until you decide if she is the one.”
Cole took a deep breath. He was a practical man, and this, however, didn’t seem too practical. “May I at least read the letter?”
Minnie pulled out a platter of brownies from beneath the counter. “Have a brownie. It will make you feel better.” She placed the platter on the counter and then walked over to the post office which had been set up in the corner of the mercantile. She returned a few moments later with a few letters and placed them on the counter.
“Here you go,” Minnie said, pushing them towards Cole. “Take a look at them. There are three that responded. I think most women didn’t want to move where it was so cold.”
Cole picked up the first envelope. He pulled out the letter and started reading, then he looked at Minnie. “She wants to bring six children with her?”
Minnie shrugged. “Read the next one.”
He pulled the second letter from its envelope. He scanned the words and his mouth flew open in a silent o. “This one is trying to escape a scandal.” He looked at Minnie. “Who writes that?”
“Someone who is desperate, perhaps. I’m sure marrying a stranger must be better than whatever they would be facing at home.”
Cole put the letter aside. So far neither of the women was what he was looking for. His children needed a mother.
He picked up the last envelope. The penmanship was elegant; bold strokes with loops and swirls drawn on the paper and it smelled slightly of roses. He lifted the envelope to sniff it. Yes, the scent was coming from the letter.
He pulled out the papers. Whomever this was, had written two pages. The same elegant handwriting on the outside of the envelope filled the pages before him.
Dear Mr. Tucker,
My name is Margaret Dasher, but everyone calls me Meg. I saw your advertisement for a wife in the newspaper. I’m sure you have had many responses, but I felt the urgent need to write.
I should probably tell you a bit about myself. I am near thirty, never married and have no children. I was engaged, but my fiancé passed. I am recovering and every day it gets easier. I can imagine you understand such an extreme loss, having lost your wife and the mother to your children. I’m sure that such a loss was more than I have ever felt. But God provides a way for healing.
I apologize for being so bold, but I must tell the truth. I committed a sin of a terrible sort.
Cole paused and looked up at Minnie. “This doesn’t sound good,” he said.
Minnie pointed to the letter. “Keep reading.” Cole returned his attention to the letter.
I have lied and said that we are already engaged to be married. The reasoning behind this is a bit silly, perhaps. I was tired of the women in town looking on me with pity and to be the source of gossip at the sewing circles. I ha
d just read your letter when I was confronted once more, and the words just fell off my tongue. I, myself, feel quite bad about it. I am not a liar under normal circumstances, but this was extreme.
Given my age, my time has passed to have children myself, but I would be honored to cherish and love your children as my own. I am sure your children are lovely. I do not have any siblings, but I so wished for one as I grew up. I can care for your children the way their mother would have wanted. If you allow me to.
Other things you should know about me. I am very devoted to attending Sunday services. It sounds like your town is rather small. Do you have a church? I enjoy knitting, sewing, and reading. I look forward to learning more about you and the little town of Nomad.
You mentioned in your advertisement, that you want someone to arrive before the snows start to fall. I don’t know the weather in Montana, but I am prepared to leave at any time. There is nothing that is keeping me here in New York.
Respectfully,
M. Dasher
P.S. I don’t know how marriages like this work, but I am open to making this work as a real marriage. I realize that love may not be a possibility, but perhaps we may become fond of each other at some point.
Cole folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. On one hand, he was a little upset that Minnie had placed the advertisement in the paper without his knowledge, but it made sense. If he had placed the advertisement now, as he intended, it would be April before anyone could arrive. Perhaps Margaret Dasher was to be his only hope at getting what he needed for his family.
“Well?” Minnie asked, lifting her eyebrow expectantly.
“You said she was arriving tomorrow?”
Minnie nodded. “Thomas will meet her at the stage and bring her here.”
“Do you know what time the stage arrives?”
“It usually arrives after dark.”
“Hmmm,” Cole said. “I guess I could get someone to stay with the children and I could come down and fetch her. It will be too dark to head back up to the mountain at night.”
“Why don’t you bring the children down. They should meet her. And they can spend the night here with Oskar and me.”
“I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“You aren’t an inconvenience. Are you, Miss Luella?” Minnie covered the toddler’s face with kisses. Luella pulled back and gave Minnie a toothy smile.
“I guess I’ll be back tomorrow before dark.”
“Good. It’s settled. I think you’ll be very happy with Miss Dasher.”
Cole wished he had Minnie’s good thoughts.
“Frank,” Cole called to his son. “Let’s gather up our purchases and get out to the wagon. We have a long ride home and it is cold out there.”
“Yes, Pa,” Frank said, grabbing Jack’s hand and pulling him towards the counter. Cole handed each of them a box. His wagon was going to be loaded down as this was their last haul before Spring. Whatever they purchased today would have to last them until April when they could dig out from the winter’s snows.
“I guess since I’m coming back down tomorrow, I’ll need to get more supplies. I would hate to run short over the winter.”
“I still have your list, Cole,” Oskar said coming up to the counter. He ruffled Luella’s blonde hair with his gnarled hand. “I’ll get enough together for one more person and you can pick it up tomorrow.”
“I appreciate that.” Cole stuffed the letter in the pocket of his coat. “I’ll keep this if you don’t mind.”
“It’s yours,” Minnie said.
“Much obliged for your help.” Cole picked up a box from the counter and walked to the wagon. When everything was packed in and covered, he went back into the store to get Luella and the potatoes from the stove.
“Bye, Grandma Minnie,” Frank said, running over to give Minnie a hug. Jack did the same.
“I’ll carry her out for you,” Minnie said securing Luella’s hat underneath the baby’s thick chin.
Cole carried the bucket with the hot potatoes and warm bricks. The children scrambled up into the front of the wagon. Normally he would have them sit in the back, but there wasn’t enough room. And this way, they could all snuggle together and stay warm.
Frank sat on the outer seat with Jack next to Cole. Minnie handed Luella to Frank, who tucked her in between the brothers. Minnie slipped the potatoes into their pockets. Cole had already placed the hot bricks under the blankets at the children’s feet.
When Minnie was done tucking everyone in, she blew them a kiss and waved as Cole whistled to the horses. When they reached the edge of town Frank tapped Cole on the shoulder.
“What it is, son?”
“Who’s coming to town tomorrow?”
“Did you hear us talking at the store?”
Frank nodded. “I didn’t mean to overhear.”
“No, that’s alright. You’ll need to know.” Cole closed his eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath. “There is a woman arriving on the stagecoach tomorrow.”
“Is she coming to visit us?” Jack asked.
Cole nodded. “Yes. She is. So, when we get home, we need to get the house as tidy as we can and take baths, so you’ll be all nice and clean when you meet her tomorrow.”
“What’s her name?”
“Margaret… I mean Meg. Meg Dasher.” Soon to be Meg Tucker. Cole didn’t want to say anything to the boys just yet. Cole would know tomorrow if he was going to marry the stranger. If he didn’t marry her, he didn’t know what he would do.
“Meg,” Frank said. “That’s a pretty name.”
“Meg… Meg… Meg,” Jack repeated in a singsong voice.
“Why don’t you sing us a song on the way home?” Cole asked.
“I remember momma would sing.”
“Yes, she did, Frank. Do you remember any of the songs she would sing?”
“Bringing in the sheaves. Bringing in the sheaves,” Frank sang.
Soon Jack joined in. Cole listened to the sound of his children’s voices singing. He thought about the letter in his pocket. He wondered what Meg looked like. She didn’t say anything in her letter. When the children were done with the first song, they started singing a second hymn. Their voices combined and filled the crisp air.
As he glanced over and looked at them, he felt a tightening in his chest. They needed a mother. They deserved a mother. He prayed that he wasn’t making a mistake.
Chapter 5
“What are these, Pa?” Frank asked, pulling out a stack of envelopes from one of the boxes.
Cole’s hand went to his pocket. The letter was still there.
“Let me see those,” he said, holding out his hand. He glanced at the envelopes. They were in the same feminine script as the envelope from Meg and had that same slight rose fragrance. Had he missed seeing these when he was at the store? “I’ll look at these later.” He stuffed the letters in his pocket.
“Who are they from, Pa?”
“I don’t know. I’ve not read them yet.”
“Are we going to eat dinner soon? I’m going to die if I don’t get something to eat.”
Cole laughed. Jack was always worried about his next meal. “As soon as we get these items unloaded, then yes, we’ll eat dinner. Can you unload that box and put everything away?” Cole asked, pushing one of the boxes closer to the edge of the table.
Jack nodded and removed a few cans from the box. He took them over to shelves that Cole had built into the wall and stacked them neatly.
“I’ll do this one,” Frank said, taking several small sacks from another box. The sacks were filled with items that weren’t needed every day: baking soda, dried apples, salt, and tea. Cole stored these items in large glass jars with rubber seals. He found it was the best way to keep the weevils out of the items.
Coffee, sugar, cornmeal, flour, rice, and beans were purchased in twenty-five or fifty-pound sacks and stored in wooden barrels in the larder.
“I need to feed the animals, so you
keep putting these items away.” The boys nodded. Cole checked on Luella, who was sleeping in the middle of his bed. The cold air and long ride had tuckered the poor girl out. He pulled the door slightly to make sure she wouldn’t be disturbed and then headed to the barn.
He lit the oil lamp that was on his workbench and it cast a warm glow into the darkened barn. Cole could hear the chickens scratching in the hay and the low call of his milk cow wanting some relief. He grabbed a wooden stool and pulled closer to the lamp. Pulling out the letters from his pocket he laid them all on the table.
The two letters he wasn’t interested in, he put aside. He pulled out the first letter from Meg and scanned the words once more. Then he opened the other three letters that Frank had found in the box and laid them on the table. They were also from Meg.
He picked up the one up with the furthest date and read it.
Dear Mrs. Grant,
Thank you for your response to my last letter. I appreciate you letting me know that it was you, on behalf of Mr. Tucker, that placed the advertisement in the paper. He must be very lucky indeed to have friends that care so much about him.
You asked for a description. I wouldn’t say I’m plain, but I’m not what you would call a beauty. I have light brown hair and brownish-green eyes. Hazel, I believe is what they are called. I am not tall, but I am not petite either. I realize that doesn’t help much. I will make a point of having a picture taken so I can send it in my next letter.
I am very pleased to make the journey to Nomad. The way you describe the town and the mountains, I’m sure I will fall in love with it rather easily. We have mountains here in New York, but they aren’t close to where I live.
If you would be so kind as to provide me a list of what I would need to bring to settle in. I have a coat and gloves, but I imagine there might be much more I need for the long winter. How long is the winter?
I appreciate you telling me anything you can about Mr. Tucker and his children. What are they like? What do they like, dislike, etcetera? Do you know if the children can read yet? I have some primers that I can bring with me. Also, if you can give me an idea for the types of toys they like, I will make a point of bringing something for the holidays. I can only imagine that there is no traveling to a larger city for presents and such.
A Mother for Christmas Page 3