Mail Order Runaway

by Julianna Blake

  Elinor took the money with great reluctance. She knew how dear money was to the McGilvray family. They weren’t poor, but they were a large working-class family, and extra money wasn’t easy to come by. She knew both Addie and Neil were expected to contribute to the family from the money they earned. “I’ll take it, but if I need to use it, I’m going to pay you back. And if you don’t accept it, I will be greatly offended.”

  “Who said I wouldn’t let you pay me back?” Neil quipped. “But take your time. I’ve got a job of my own, and it don’t pay half bad.”

  “I’m sure you won’t need it.” Addie patted her arm. “I just have a feeling that you and Gideon Cartwright are a perfect match. I think that’s why marrying him never felt entirely right—it was almost like I was marrying someone else’s husband. Yours.”

  Addie smiled, and Elinor hugged her, gratefully.

  “You have no idea how much this means to me. I’m really going to miss you, my dearest friend in the world!”

  “I’ll miss you more,” Addie cried, hugging Elinor tighter. She stepped back, looking her up and down. “I can’t believe you’re going to be married!”

  “Yes…and to your fiancé!”

  The girls giggled. When the conductor called for passengers to board, they hugged again, briefly, and said their goodbyes.

  “Neil, you have been as generous to me as if you were my own brother. Thank you so much.”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t help you this much if you were my sister.”

  Addie elbowed him and shot him a stern look.

  He groaned and coughed. “Anyway, I hope you have a safe trip, Elinor. And truly, you are like family to us, so if you get in trouble, and your parents won’t send you the fare to come back home, you just wire us. We McGilvrays are a resourceful bunch. We can scrounge up the money, somehow.” He winked at her. “And we won’t even charge you interest.”

  Addie rolled her eyes, then blinked back tears. “Well, off with you now, before I cry. And don’t forget to write as soon as you can, or I’ll come out to Montana and hunt you down.”

  “Now you’re giving me no incentive to write,” Elinor laughed.

  “You’d better!”

  The conductor called out again, and Elinor lifted her valise and bade them both goodbye. She boarded the train, searching for a seat on the platform side, but the window seats were already taken in that car. Disappointed, she took a seat on the other side. Once her valise was stowed away, she craned her neck to watch Addie and Neal. They were obviously looking for her, but couldn’t see her. They stayed anyway, and when the whistle blew and the locomotive lurched forward, pulling slowly away from the platform, they waved. Though they couldn’t see her, she waved back, until the train station slid away from her view. Then she settled back into her seat.

  I’m going to be Mrs. Gideon Cartwright! The idea sent shivers down her spine. She hadn’t dared to dream that it could happen, though she’d longed for it every day for the last six months. Now it was a reality, and the train couldn’t go fast enough.

  It would be a long few weeks, to meet her future husband.

  Chapter 7

  August 15, 1890

  The Cartwright Farm

  Helena, Montana

  The hot spell had finally abated, so Gideon took the opportunity to head into town and pick up the mail and a few supplies. He’d been itching to see if Adelaide had written to him. He chose to ride Pepper—the older of his two Morgan horses—and leave Penny back at the barn with Cody and Dash. Pepper didn’t get much exercise now that Nina had left to get married.

  Maybe I’ll give Pepper to Adelaide, he mused. He has a stable, reliable temperament. That would make a good choice. He didn’t want anything to happen to his new wife, and Penny was young—though well-trained, she was excitable.

  After retrieving his letters at the post office, he walked out shuffling eagerly through the small stack, spying one from his sister Hattie—the first in months—and then Adelaide’s.

  His heart lurched.

  He wanted to rip the letter open and find out if she had gotten on the train or not. Then he realized that she couldn’t have—not at the time the letter was sent. The boarding date for the ticket was only for a week ago. She had to have sent the letter nearly two weeks before getting on the train.

  Did she change her mind? Or will there be another letter to follow, saying she actually boarded? No, that makes no sense—the letter would arrive when she did. What if she couldn’t leave her family? What if she couldn’t leave her beloved Boston Library? He stared at the letter in his hand, torn between the urge to open it, and the urge to get sick all over his boots.

  His pride decided for him—he’d wait until he got home. If Adelaide had rejected him, he sure wasn’t going to read about it standing in the street. Gideon tucked the letter into his coat pocket, untied Penny, mounted and turned around, heading out of town without even stopping at the mercantile as he’d planned.

  What do I do if she isn’t coming? He knew Mrs. Porter would help him find a new bride, free of charge, but he didn’t want a new bride. He and Adelaide McGilvray might not be a perfect match, but they were close enough to it. She was exactly what he needed in a wife, and he thought he could provide her the peaceful life she was looking for. Plus, the idea of starting the whole courtship process all over again was disheartening.

  He rode on, his thoughts muddled as he made his way through town, past the park and then on beyond the train tracks. He cast a resentful glance in the direction of the train station, envying the bachelors whose mail order brides had actually shown up to be greeted by Madeline Porter upon arriving in Helena. Shaking his head, he turned onto the road heading out of town, toward his farm at the north end of the valley. He nodded at wagons passing him on the way into town, trying to smile, but managing little more than a grimace, as he considered Adelaide McGilvray’s rejection of him to be virtually inevitable. There was no doubt in his mind the letter would contain bad news.

  Will this keep happening? He wondered. Would women let him get all the way to the betrothal stage, then change their minds? He was twenty-four—he didn’t want to waste another six months to a year or more, trying to find a wife in the slowest way possible. But his local prospects weren’t much better—who wanted a dirty, sweaty farmer for a husband, when there were plenty of successful men in town, who were in need of a wife? Though Helena had become quite a boom town, there were never enough young women to make up for the constant influx of new miners and bachelor homesteaders, trying their chance for rich ore or rich land—dry though it may be, on the east side of the Continental Divide. He wasn’t much better off than those men—what chance did an upstart young farmer have against men who were set in business, and could provide a clean, comfortable, easy life in town?

  He didn’t want to be alone forever, or to waste time. Of course, he could try for another mail order bride, and at the same time see if there was someone at church who knew of a young woman who might be willing to consider farm life.

  That does it! I’m not riding another mile. If she turned me down, I might as well know now, and save myself another trip into town, to tell Mrs. Porter that we need to start over. And while I’m at it, I can tell her to try to pick a more stable, reliable girl next time! He pulled his horse up short, and whipped the letter out of his coat pocket. He had a moment of shock when it wasn’t there—then he found it in the other pocket. Breathing hard, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolding it.

  Dear Mr. Cartwright,

  I received your letter, and yes, it finds me well. The arrangements are all agreeable to me, and in two weeks, I shall be boarding a train, and speeding toward our future.

  My mother is still beside herself at the thought of her first “little bird” leaving the nest, and flying so far away. But I’ve told her she must give me a chance to spread my wings.

  I’m sure she’ll adjust to the idea in time. In the meantime, she plies me with guilt-in
ducing looks whenever she can. She must be taking lessons from my father’s mother, because you’d never know my mother wasn’t a Catholic—she can certainly dole out generous servings of guilt!

  The time is going by so slowly—I’m anxious to make my first train journey outside New England. I’ve read about so many beautiful and exciting places in the West. It’s thrilling to know that soon I will see it all for myself!

  Elinor is quite jealous that I will be able to cavort with your sheep in the fields—at least, that’s what she imagines I will be doing. I told her it’s far more likely that I’ll spend most of my time on laundry and cooking. It’s too bad she’s getting married the same week that I’ll be leaving. It would have been lovely if she could have found a way to travel out with me, to attend the wedding. I know she would have been delighted. I’ll miss her dearly.

  I feel the urge to ask you a dozen new questions, as I always do, but since I’ll be by your side as Mrs. Cartwright before a reply could make it to Boston, I will have to be satisfied by wishing you well, and expressing to you how very much I look forward to my adventure, and our meeting.

  Your Friend Always,

  Miss Addie McGilvray

  The breath exploded from Gideon’s lungs in a relieved rush. She’s coming. She’s coming! Then the realization struck him. She’s on her way…right now! If she had gotten on the train as she intended, then his bride-to-be would be arriving in Helena in a mere week. Seven days! Seven days until his house became a home again, filled with warmth and happiness.

  His mind reeled with all that needed to be done before she arrived. He was relieved that the first cutting was in and the farm work caught up, so he could spend the next week on cleaning and household chores that he had long neglected.

  He tucked away the letter in his pocket, and gave Penny a squeeze with his heels, urging her into a trot toward home, so he could get started immediately.

  Chapter 8

  Wednesday, August 27, 1890

  Train Station, Helena, Montana

  The locomotive screeched to a halt in front of the platform. Elinor had never seen a station so small—unless she counted the tiny stations dotted throughout the eastern Massachusetts area that workers used to commute from outlying towns, to their jobs in Boston.

  She looked out the window at the flat valley, surrounded by mountains. There weren’t many trees, and the mountains looked dry and bare—a pale green very unlike the mountains in New Hampshire, where she’d once visited with her parents. She had passed through the barren parts of southeastern Montana, and the heavily wooded, winding mountain passes near Bozeman. Helena seemed to be a mix of the two—lovely mountain views, but few trees, and a wide open valley that stretched to the east.

  She could see clusters of people lined along the platform, eagerly greeting their friends and family that alighted from the train. Farther back, near the station house, people waited on benches for their turn to board. Elinor didn’t see anyone who matched the description of Mrs. Porter, which Mrs. Gardner had given to Addie, and Addie had relayed to her.

  She tried to calm her nerves as she took out her valise and made her way down the aisle. She was almost the last passenger on that car to debark. Stepping onto the platform, she looked around for Mrs. Porter, feeling very out of place and lost.

  “Miss McGilvray?”

  It startled her to hear Addie’s surname, though she should have expected it. She turned toward the deep voice and was shocked to find herself face to face with Gideon Cartwright.

  “I…I…oh!” She babbled like an infant, blinking rapidly until she was able to gain control of her tongue. “I was expecting Mrs. Porter. You…you’re Mr. Cartwright.” Her knees felt weak, and she prayed silently that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by fainting.

  “That I am!” He grinned, tipping his hat. “I hope you’re not disappointed. I mean, not in me—though I do hope you aren’t disappointed in me—but I meant I hope you’re not disappointed that I’m here in Mrs. Porter’s stead.”

  Elinor took in the sight of the tall, lanky man before her. He had the lean, muscular build one would expect from a farmer. His eyes were, indeed, an unusual color—though in the sunlight, their color was more on the blue side. His sandy hair was thicker than she’d expected, and she had to control the urge to reach up and touch it. His lips were full and when he smiled, it was a handsome, beaming smile that melted her heart into the bottom of her boots.

  “All right, Cartwright, I think you’ve said enough,” laughed a slightly shorter man with chestnut hair who came up from behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

  Mr. Cartwright’s cheeks flamed.

  How adorable—he blushes!

  “Sorry, Miss McGilvray. I guess I’m a bit eager,” mumbled Mr. Cartwright

  “Not at all, Mr. Cartwright. I’ve been very eager to arrive myself.” She smiled, and chastised herself for sounding so ill-mannered. A woman shouldn’t even appear eager, much less admit to it.

  “I’m sure it was a very long and tiring trip.” He was still grinning.

  Elinor kept smiling back.

  The pause was long and awkward.

  “Well,” interrupted the other man, “let me introduce myself. I’m Clay Porter, Madeline Porter’s husband.”

  “Oh!” Elinor had completely forgotten about Mrs. Porter. “That’s right, she was supposed to be the one to meet me. I suppose that’s why I’m so flustered.” It was Elinor’s turn to blush.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s all my fault. She’s expecting, and she was feeling so ill this morning, I insisted she stay behind at our butcher shop and rest. Not that she’ll listen—I’m sure she’s looking after our daughter Grace, and helping Mr. Kirschner serve the customers, no matter how much he protests.”

  Elinor laughed. “She sounds like a busy woman.”

  “That she is. So you can understand why I had to make her stay behind and hopefully rest a little. But if you’re not too tired, we can stop by the butcher shop so you can meet her. She’s eager to see you.”

  “Yes, by all means. I’m tired, but I’ve been tired for many days now. I’m a light sleeper, and the rocking of the train all night didn’t help.”

  “Alrighty, then, I’ll go see about your baggage. How many pieces did you bring?”

  Elinor thought she saw the man wince in anticipation of her answer.

  “Two large bags, in addition to this valise.” She realized she was still holding it, and set it on the platform beside her.

  Mr. Porter relaxed. “Perfect. We’ll have plenty of room in the wagon. Good news, Cartwright—you don’t have to walk, after all!”

  The two men laughed, then Mr. Porter left to claim her baggage.

  There was a long, uneasy silence. They both watched the newly-arrived passengers disperse, and the conductor call for the new passengers to board.

  Mr. Cartwright cleared his throat. “You didn’t bring your violin?”

  Elinor was bemused. “I don’t have a—” she stopped herself just in time. Addie had a violin. She must have mentioned it in her letters. Elinor wasn’t ready yet to admit that she wasn’t the girl that Gideon Cartwright wanted—but she didn’t want to lie. “I…didn’t bring the violin. The…uh…family needs it. All the girls who play violin in the family share.” There. None of that was a lie.

  His face fell. “It’s a shame you had to leave it behind. I was looking forward to hearing you play.”

  “Well…you know, I’ve been taking piano lessons recently.” Recently…and for the last two years. “And as it turns out, I play the piano far better than I play the violin.”

  “Really?” Mr. Cartwright rubbed his chin. “I probably could have managed to buy you a violin, but a piano…”

  “Oh, my, no!” Elinor gasped. “Please, you can’t go to such trouble on my account. To be honest, I’m rather looking forward to a break from music. I’d rather wait to take up an instrument again when I want to, after so many years of being required to.” />
  “That makes sense. Alright. No instruments until you say so.”

  Another uncomfortable pause followed. Elinor was afraid to fill it.

  Mr. Cartwright stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. “I’m truly happy that you arrived safely, Miss McGilvray. You never know when a train might get robbed, or bad weather might cause problems or delays—”

  “Oh my! I hadn’t even thought of that. I’m glad I didn’t. I was nervous enough!”

  His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I just…I suppose all sorts of thoughts ran through my head the last two or three weeks. I wished I had given you extra funds to wire me from the first stop along the way, so you could confirm that you actually got on the train—” He pressed his lips in a thin line, embarrassed. “I—I mean—that is—not that you wouldn’t come—of course you would—but….you know…in case there was a delay, or an emergency…” He lifted up his hat, scratched at his hairline and looked away, biting his lip.

  “No, no I understand. You can never know if someone might…change their mind.” She barely whispered the last, chagrined.

  Mr. Cartwright flashed her a wry smile. “I was worried you’d change your mind. That you’d decide I wasn’t…acceptable.”

  Elinor’s heart raced. “I…I felt the same.” She took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you—”

  “There’s no need. I know.”

  “You do?” Her hands clenched tighter on the handle of her valise. Here it comes…

  “Sure. It’s normal to be nervous—to have second thoughts. Don’t worry, I think it’s normal on both sides, in a situation like this. I wouldn’t hold it against you. As…as long as you don’t still think you made a mistake.” He dipped his head, then peeked back up at her from under his hat. “Do you? I know it’s too soon to be sure—I mean, you just met me and all—but are you already regretting it?”