Mail Order Runaway

by Julianna Blake

  “There now, don’t worry yourself. I lose all track of time when I’m in the fields, myself. If it weren’t for my empty belly, I’d probably stay out there until dark, leaving you feeling more like a widow than a new bride.”

  She laughed a little, wiping tears away as she sniffled. She wondered if he realized that he already did that. She only saw him on Sundays and for mealtime and bedtime. His endless hours in the field only added to her loneliness and frustration. “I’m so sorry. You must be starving.”

  “I am, but that’s pretty much an eternal state for a fella like me, isn’t it?”

  He grinned, and she couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “Now, why don’t you go freshen up, and I’ll see what we have that I can rustle up quick.”

  “But that’s my job—”

  “Hush now, your job is to be an obedient wife, and I’ve already given you your orders, do you hear?”

  The false gruffness in his voice made her chuckle. “Alright, if you insist, Mr. Cartwright.”

  “I do, Mrs. Cartwright. Get on with you.”

  She went to the bedroom to dry her tears and comb her hair. Looking in the glass over the dresser, she realized her hair was a fright. She must have run her hands through it repeatedly in frustration—wisps and tendrils had escaped at the front and sides, sticking up in disarray. She used her brush to smooth it back, tucking the largest strands behind her ears. When she thought she looked presentable, she went out into the kitchen.

  Gideon was setting food in the middle of the table, where two plates already lay. “I found some cheese, some dry sausage, and there’s the last of that bread you made on Monday—which, by the way, was the best you’ve made so far.”

  “Thank you. You’re very sweet, but we both know that’s not saying much.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think half the reason you’re struggling is that you put too much pressure on yourself.”

  She sighed, sitting at the table across from him, where he was slicing up the sausage and cheese onto plates. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “There’s no rush to learn that machine. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out why it’s so much harder than the machines you used at the shirtwaist factory. Aren’t they all pretty much alike?”

  Elinor froze, unable to think of what to say. Perhaps Constance is right…I should just tell him the truth. Well, not all the truth—it’s too late for that—I can’t risk him leaving me. But I should at least admit that I can’t cook or sew.

  He glanced up, and winced. “I’m putting pressure on you again...”

  “No you’re not. I understand. I told you that I was an accomplished seamstress and cook, and now I’ve proven to be an utter failure.”

  “No you’re not. The muffins you made the other day were de.”

  Elinor sighed. “Those were mostly done by Constance when we baked together on Monday.”

  “Oh.” He pushed her plate toward her, then stuffed a slice of bread in his mouth, tearing off a large chunk to chew. Elinor suspected it was to give himself time to choose his words.

  “I really am a failure,” she murmured, and tears filled her vision. She poked at the food on her plate.

  Gideon chewed, watching her. When he’d swallowed, he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “You’re too hard on yourself. What’s really the matter? I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just frustration in your housework.”

  Elinor took a shaky breath and let it out. She should tell him. At least the part about not having any skills in housework. But she couldn’t seem to make the words come. It was like all the times she was angry with her mother, or frustrated for having her choices taken away—she had wanted so much to confront her mother, to tell her the truth about how she really felt…but she couldn’t. The words remained, heavy as a lead weight in her mouth, unspoken. Her tongue felt every bit as heavy now, and she simply couldn’t make herself say the words. It was easier to lie, to distract, and to pass blame.

  “I…I think I’m just overwhelmed. It’s all so new—and it’s wonderful, I cherish being married to you—but it’s also new and a little bit scary. There’s so much more responsibility—it’s all squarely on my shoulders, no one else’s. And if I can’t handle things now, what will I do when we have children? And I feel very out of sorts. I miss A—”she almost said Addie, but stopped herself “—all the people back home, especially…my best friend…and…and my Mama and Papa…”

  “I’m sure you do,” he squeezed her hand, “you came from a big family, all those brothers and sisters. You’re used to a lot of companionship. And I remember how often you talked of Elinor. I know you didn’t get to spend much time with her the last couple of years, and now here you are, thousands of miles away, and going through all these new experiences…you must be terribly homesick.”

  “I…” she wasn’t, really. She missed Addie, and she supposed she missed her parents somewhat, and the sense of familiarity. But she didn’t miss the pressure of living up to her parents’ expectations. And so far she found Helena, and Gideon’s beautiful farm, to be marvelous. Her life was almost idyllic, as she’d hoped it would be. If only she could erase the lies she’d told, and magically whisk Addie to Montana to live nearby, everything would be perfect. “I…suppose I do feel homesick, in a way.” Homesick for my best friend, she thought.

  “That settles it.” He slapped the table. “When we’re done eating, I’m going to wash the dishes, and you’re going to march right out to the desk and sit to write letters to Elinor and your family. Tomorrow we’ll go into town and mail them. I think the sooner you receive letters from home, the better.”

  “Really?” Her spirits lifted. Then she gasped. “No, I can’t let you do the dishes—”

  “Adelaide, please don’t insult me by insinuating that I can’t do dishes. I know my way around a kitchen. I played both mother and father to my brother and sisters for years. It’s true, my sisters usually did the dishes, and often did the cooking, but there were times I had to help out with the dishes, and since they all moved away, I made my own meals and cleaned up afterward…all by my lonesome.” He winked at her.

  “I know you can do them, but you shouldn’t have to.”

  “I don’t have to. I want to.” He cocked an eyebrow. “And it’s two plates and a knife. I think my manly pride can handle it.”

  “Alright then.” She brightened, and began to eat her meal with gusto.

  “Now that’s what I like to see…a happy wife, eating heartily. If you ask me, you’ve lost weight just since you got here, and I don’t like it.” His eyes twinkled, and she giggled.

  “We just went into town the other day—you don’t mind going in so soon?”

  “Naw,” he said around a mouthful of sausage, “I need to go into town anyway. Looks like two of the tines are about coming off the dump rake, and I only have one spare. I noticed it at the end of the first cutting, but I keep forgetting to pick them up while we’re in town. The field is looking about ready for that second cutting—a little late, thanks to the less-than-ideal conditions lately—so now’s the time for me to get those spare tines, and for you to mail those letters and pick up any items you might have forgotten. Double-check the pantry tonight before bed, and make a list.”

  “Well then, I’ll write the letters as soon as I’m done eating. Thank you so much! I should have written them long before now. I’m so excited to tell someone how delightful it is here!”

  “Don’t mention it. All I want is for you to be happy. I know you gave up everything to come out here and marry me. The least I can do, is do my part to make you happy.”

  She was happy. Mostly, anyway. She pushed away the niggling fear that the burden of her lies was preventing her from experiencing true happiness. It’s worth it, she thought. It’s hard keeping up this act, pretending to be Addie, but I’m happier here with Gideon than I ever was at home. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose this life. But he�
��s right…writing to my best friend will help me feel better.

  When supper was finished, Elinor lit a lamp at the desk in the parlor. The warm glow made the room feel cozy. She took out a pen and uncorked the ink bottle, dipping the pen in and scratching it across the surface of a fresh sheet of paper.

  She’d finished the date, and moved on to write the salutation to Addie, when she froze. She couldn’t write a letter to Addie—she was supposed to be Addie! And she couldn’t very well write Dear Elinor, either. Addie had no idea that Elinor had continued the charade…she couldn’t bear Addie’s disappointment in her.

  It took a few minutes of puzzling it out, but she finally came up with a way to make the letters work, without arousing too much suspicion from anyone. She began Addie’s letter with the salutation with To My Dearest Friend and closed the letter with Your Best Friend Always. She poured her heart out on the paper, relieved to finally have someone to share her joy with. Then she addressed the envelope to The McGilvray Family, followed by their address on Tremont Street.

  Then Elinor wrote a letter to her parents, signing it Your Loving Daughter. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a postscript to the bottom of Addie’s letter: When you write back, please address your return letter to Mrs. Gideon Cartwright—I am so delighted at the prospect of seeing myself addressed as such. I shall be very disappointed indeed, if I see anything other than Mrs. Gideon Cartwright either inside or on the envelope—I know you won’t deprive me of that joy!

  Putting fresh paper on the rocker blotter, she blotted the excess ink from the letters and envelope, then waved her hand over them, hoping to dry the ink faster. She glanced over her shoulder, surprised that Gideon was still bustling about in the kitchen. He should have been done long ago.

  She put both letters together in the envelope destined for the McGilvray household. She had requested within the body of Addie’s letter that re-mail the letter to Elinor’s parents, because she wasn’t ready for her parents to know exactly where in Montana she was living.

  I think I’ve thought of everything, she thought as she sealed the envelope. I hope I have.

  “How is the letter coming along?” Gideon came up from behind so quietly that she didn’t hear him, resting his hands on her shoulders.

  “Oh! You startled me. I just finished.”

  “You look much happier.”

  “I am. You’re a brilliant man.” She patted his hand where it lay on her shoulder. “You knew exactly how to make me feel better. But what took you so long? Only two plates and a knife, remember?” she teased.

  “Well, I thought I’d tidy up the whole kitchen while I was at it. I scrubbed the stovetop, set out the plates for breakfast tomorrow, and I even fed the sourdough, as you always do before bed.”

  “Awww, you are the most considerate man! You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Well, I figured it would be more exciting than sitting and watching you write. Although you did look beautiful in the lamplight, when I came in.”

  “Oh, you.” She blushed.

  “I’m beat. Are you almost ready for bed? I thought you could read a few pages from your Shakespeare book aloud tonight. I enjoy listening to your voice.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Ugh. Shakespeare is so boring, she thought. “That sounds wonderful. I’m ready.”

  “All sealed up and ready to go?” He leaned over her shoulder, frowning at the sealed envelope in her hands. “I had hoped to read them before you sent them.”

  Elinor swallowed over the lump that rose in her throat. “I…I had no idea you’d want to read them. They’re quite boring, really.”

  “I find everything about you thoroughly interesting.”

  “Well…maybe next time.”

  “You addressed the letter to the whole family?”

  “I…uh…yes. The younger girls will love it—they’ll feel like they got mail, too.”

  “Awww. You’re a thoughtful older sister.” He leaned to kiss her on the cheek. “But where is the letter to Elinor?”

  Hearing her real name on his lips sent a thrill through her. How she ached to hear it as he looked into her eyes.

  “I put it inside with the letter to my parents. I…I thought I’d save us the extra postage.”

  “But then won’t your parents have to pay the postage to re-mail it?”

  Elinor cringed. She hadn’t thought of that—Addie would have to bear the burden of the extra postage to mail the letter to her parents. Elinor made a note to include a bit of money next time, somehow, to cover the cost. She also had to find a way to surreptitiously send them the remainder of the money they’d given her for the trip—she’d given Gideon back the travel expense money he’d sent, but what was left of the money Addie and Neil had given her was still hidden away inside her valise.

  She floundered for a way to cover her mistake. “Actually…I noticed Neil was spending more time around Elinor before I left. So Neil could just hand the letter straight to Elinor.” That was true, to an extent—Neil had come and checked on her often at the inn.

  “You think they’re courting?”

  “Well…she’s always been sweet on him.” That much is true—I was sweet on him for many years.

  “Oh. I see.” His brow was furrowed, but he didn’t comment further. “Maybe you should just tear open the envelope and put each letter in its own envelope, and not risk imposing on your parents. We can spare the extra postage.”

  Panic flashed through her. “No!” She swallowed, clutching the envelope to her chest. She couldn’t let Gideon see the letter to her parents. “Uh…no, let’s just try it my way. We can see if I’m right. If Neil hand-delivers the letter, we’ll know for sure that something is going on between them.” She forced a coy smile.

  He stared at her, bemused. “All right. You leave the envelope there on the desk so we’ll remember it in the morning, and go on to bed. I’m going to wash up, and I’ll be in there in a minute. If you do an adequate job reading tonight,” he teased, “I’ll stroke your hair and help you to sleep. I can see that you’re still a little tense.”

  He didn’t know the half of it. His kindness only made Elinor feel even smaller, for her deceptions. “Thank you, but you really don’t have to—”

  “Don’t go thinking it’s a selfless act. I fully expect you to massage my shoulders or rub my feet when I’m worn out during the harvest.”

  She chuckled. “Very well, then. I’m happy to indulge you.”

  Chapter 17

  Thursday September 18, 1890

  The next morning the sun rose all too early for Elinor. Instead of bouncing out of bed, eager to make the trip into town to mail the letters, she groaned and rolled over, clutching her stomach with one hand and pulling the pillow tighter over her eyes with the other. “Too bright,” she mumbled from under the pillows.

  “Too bright? The sun’s not even all the way up. Get up, sleepyhead,” he laughed pulling the pillow from her head.

  The light was blinding, and her gut roiled. She threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, barely making it to the chamber pot in time before emptying the contents of her stomach into it.

  “Are you alright?” Gideon called from the bed. Concern laced his voice, and she heard the bed creak and his footsteps padding across the floor in a hurry.

  “Mm-mm.” She shook her head, and that just made her dizzy. She heaved again, and Gideon stood over her, rubbing her back in sympathy.

  When she was done, he handed her a handkerchief, and she wiped her mouth. “Could you be…?”

  “Mm-mm,” she said, but was smart enough this time not to shake her head. “I feel like I ate something that didn’t agree with my stomach.” She groaned, panting from the exertion of being sick.

  He helped her back to bed, and tucked the covers around her. Then he felt her forehead. “You’re not warm. And we both ate the same thing. It’s probably just one of those one-day sicknesses.”

  “Just give me a little while, then I’ll get up
and get breakfast started.”

  “Absolutely not. You rest. I’m going to dump and rinse the chamber pot, and bring it back for you. Then I’m going to wash up and get breakfast started.”

  “No, that’s two meals in a row—”she gasped, trying desperately to push down the urge to retch again.

  “Don’t say another word, or I’ll embarrass you by cooking all week.”

  “Fine. But I’ll be alright by the time you eat breakfast, and then we’ll go to town.”

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere today.”

  “We need to. You need those tines,” she protested.

  “Not that bad.”

  “That’s not what you said yesterday.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I do need them. But there’s no sense in dragging you along. I’ll go, and I’ll drop off your letter, then I’ll head back as fast as I can. And I’ll make you some peppermint tea before I go—that always made my sisters feel better when they were sick. Mrs. Pruett taught me that—”

  Elinor sat bolt upright in bed, making her head spin even worse. “No! You can’t!” She had lain awake the night before, worrying that when they awoke, he might insist she divide the letters and put them into separate envelopes. What if he decided to do that for her? He couldn’t be left alone with the letters. “I mean…I can’t make you go alone. I’ll be fine, really.”

  “You are not—look at you—you’re breaking into a sweat, just from sitting up.” He pushed her down gently, until she succumbed, and lay back on the pillows. “I’ll stop by the Pruett farm and ask Mrs. Pruett to check in on you an hour or so after I leave. I’ll tell her to just knock and then walk in. That way, if you get worse, or you need anything, you’ll know someone is coming by, and you won’t even have to get out of bed.”

  “No, Gideon, really—”

  “I insist. I think you’ll be just fine, and I hate leaving you, but I’ll feel better if I know you’re resting, and being looked after.”

  She opened her mouth to argue again, but realized that if she didn’t go along, that would only arouse his suspicion. “If you think it’s best.”