The Mail Order Brides of Last Chance

by Lucille Chisum

  “Oh!” Owen shook his head slightly. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to get to everyone on the list on the first day.”

  “You didn’t?” Bonnie blinked.

  “No, of course not,” the mayor replied, shaking his head. He laughed slightly. “It was a long list, after all.”

  “Oh.” Bonnie looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. “Well, I managed to get to everyone but one person.”

  “Really,” Owen said, his eyebrows lifting. “That’s actually quite impressive.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you,” Bonnie said, tempted to curtsy. “But I was wondering if I could ask you about the woman I missed.”

  He nodded. “Of course,” Owen said, extending his hand. “Let’s see who you’ve got there.”

  Bonnie handed him the list, and the mayor scanned it. Finally he found the name at the bottom, and Owen slowly smiled.

  “Ahh,” he said, and Bonnie frowned, wondering about his strange reaction.

  “Sir?” she asked.

  “Althea Harris,” Owen said, shaking his head slightly. “Our resident mystic.”

  Bonnie blinked. “Mystic? I don’t understand.”

  Owen laughed. “Of course not,” he said, handing her the list. “Althea is one of those people you have to experience before you can understand her.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, frowning again.

  Owen took a deep breath, trying to think of a way he could explain her. It was very difficult.

  “Well, she quilts constantly, as you might have guessed from her name being on the list,” he began. “But Althea is a bit . . . odd.”

  “How so?” Bonnie asked.

  “Hmm.” The mayor paused, once again trying to think of how to explain her. “Well, she’s very Christian, but Althea has some strange beliefs that go with that in a way that’s a little unconventional.”

  “Strange?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Of a spiritual sort.”

  “Spiritual,” Bonnie repeated, trying to keep her tone neutral.

  “Yes.” The mayor took another deep breath, realizing how inadequate his explanation had been. “This is difficult to explain, without making Althea seem crazy. But she sees things. Has visions.”

  Bonnie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Indeed.” The mayor paused. “This isn’t any sort of warning, exactly, she’s actually very nice. I just wanted you to be prepared when you see her.”

  Bonnie nodded. She had no idea what to make of his explanation, so she waited to see if he would add more. And sure enough, he did.

  “She expresses it through her quilting,” Owen said. “That’s the part that’s related to you . . . to at least some extent.”

  “What do you mean?” Bonnie asked, her curiosity piqued.

  The mayor chuckled. “This is going to sound quite odd, too,” he said. “But Althea somehow manages to put her visions on her quilts.”

  She blinked. “Oh! Well, that is unique, to be sure,” Bonnie said.

  Owen could see that Bonnie was still at least slightly alarmed, and he tried to think of what he could say that would reassure her.

  “I’m not trying to put you off,” he said, hoping that would do the trick. “I just didn’t want you to be too surprised.”

  Bonnie smiled and laughed. She tried to imagine a scenario in which she visited this woman without knowing any of this, and then she presented her visions in a quilt. It was difficult to even visualize.

  “She certainly does sound like an interesting addition to the project,” she said finally. “For the Holiday Fair, I mean.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Althea is a separate part of the fair in and of herself,” he said. “I think you’ll understand when you meet her.”

  Bonnie shook her head, suddenly eager to make the visit. “Huh,” she said. “Well, I certainly can’t wait for that.”

  She took the stagecoach that afternoon. The driver was tied up for most of the morning, so Bonnie had kept busy doing the other work she’d been given to help prepare for the fair.

  The ride was longer than she expected. Her list didn’t have an address for this Althea, but Bonnie more or less knew she lived on the outskirts of Last Chance.

  But this was as far out as she’d ever been. Bonnie recognized the McCourty property, which was usually recognized as the unofficial town line of Last Chance, even though there was no formal designation of where the town ended in any of the maps she’d seen.

  They rode out several miles beyond the McCourty ranch, and the country began to get rougher.

  Farming would be difficult out here, Bonnie thought as she scanned the land beyond. And even ranching would be hard. Whoever chose to live out here had selected a tough life.

  She’d asked the mayor for any additional information he could give her, but he had little to offer. Evidently her husband was a scout of some sort, he worked for the McCourty brothers.

  According to Owen, though—and she was still having difficulty thinking of him by his first name—he was rarely around, so it was almost certain that she would be seeing this Althea woman alone.

  Finally they came up to what looked like a ranch of sorts. Bonnie could see livestock, but far less than usual, at least on the ranches she’d seen prior to that.

  The ranch was ramshackle and slightly rundown from a distance, but as they drew closer Bonnie could see that it was actually neat and tidily kept up, for the most part.

  The stagecoach driver pulled up and hopped off to let her out, and Bonnie pulled her shawl tighter. It was a blustery day, which seemed in keeping with the somewhat mysterious nature of her visit.

  She made her way slowly up the dirt walkway, but Bonnie didn’t make it to the door. When she was halfway there, a woman opened it and rushed forward to meet her, her demeanor warm and friendly.

  It was the last thing Bonnie expected. She barely had time to take in the woman, who must be Althea, before she was upon her.

  She was a brunette, with long, flowing dark hair that whipped about in the gusts of wind. She was stocky, but not unattractive, with naturally tan skin that made Bonnie wonder where she was from.

  Could she possibly be part Apache, or have some of that blood coursing through her veins?

  “I am Althea,” the woman said, barely stopping to introduce herself. Instead she paused for a moment, and then she embraced Bonnie, which was the last thing Bonnie was expecting.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, noting how tight the woman’s embrace was. This Althea is quite strong, Bonnie thought. “Well, I’m Bonnie.”

  She was about to give her last name, but then for some reason Bonnie thought better of it. It didn’t really seem to matter, either, because Althea simply looped her arm into Bonnie’s and began walking her toward the door.

  “I know,” she said, nodding as they reached it. “I’ve been expecting you for some time, in fact.”

  Bonnie turned her head to look at Althea, her eyes widening slightly. Oh dear, she thought. What if the mayor has underestimated how “odd” this woman truly is?

  Althea laughed as she opened the door for her. “You have nothing to worry about,” she said as she ushered Bonnie in. “I have known that someone would be coming to check on the quilting for some time.”

  Bonnie blinked. “You have?” she asked, not quite knowing what else to say.

  “Oh yes,” Althea replied, nodding as she pointed to the sofa, and then she laughed. “It happens every year around this time. Just before the fair. The mayor sends someone.”

  Bonnie felt herself finally exhale as she took a seat on the sofa, and she laughed at her anxiety. Well . . . that was foolish of me, she thought.

  “And I was expecting someone in your . . . situation, as well,” Althea added.

  Bonnie blinked, and off went Althea to what she assumed was the kitchen. My “situation,” she thought. What on earth is she talking about?

  She waited patiently, looking around the living room. Like the re
st of the house, it was tidy, and not ostentatious at all.

  If the mayor hadn’t told her about the visions, Bonnie would have assumed she was just like all the other women she’d met so far while making her rounds.

  Then Althea returned, carrying a cup of tea. She placed it gently on the table in front of Bonnie, who smiled, wishing to appear as congenial and pleasant as possible.

  “My own special blend,” Althea said, giving her a mysterious smile in return after leaving the tea in front of her. “I make it just for you.”

  Then she winked at Bonnie, whose eyes widened again in alarm. She detected a twinkle of sorts in Althea’s eyes, and Althea took the chair across from her and sat, pressing her hands together as she did.

  “Aren’t you having tea?” Bonnie asked, remembering the second cup.

  “Oh!” Althea exclaimed. “Yes . . . how silly of me. I quite forgot.”

  With that she jumped up and rushed back to the kitchen. She certainly is light on her feet, Bonnie thought. And there definitely is something mysterious about her.

  The tea only worked to increase that impression of mystery. Bonnie took a sip, and she quickly detected several herbs she recognized—chamomile, and peppermint, among others.

  But the tea also had a dark, musky taste to it that was harder to identify. It wasn’t unpleasant at all—in fact, when combined with the lighter herbs, it seemed to balance them, and Bonnie felt a tingling on her tongue as she took a second sip.

  “This is wonderful!” she said. “I’d love to know what it’s made from.”

  Althea gave her a shy smile as she sat back down in her chair and took a small sip herself. “It is my own secret blend,” she said mysteriously, as if to increase the ambiguous impression she was creating.

  She really seems to be enjoying this, Bonnie thought. I wonder how much of this is actually deliberate.

  “So,” Althea began, before Bonnie had a chance to ask her about this. “You’re here for a specific reason.”

  Bonnie nodded. “Well, yes,” she replied. “The mayor asked me to stop by and make sure you will be part of the quilting bee for this year’s Holiday Fair.”

  Althea nodded slowly. “Of course,” she said, with some sort of accent that made her sound like a bit of a gypsy. “But that’s not entirely why you’re here.”

  Bonnie blinked. “It’s not?”

  “No, no,” Althea said. “But you already know that.”

  This time Bonnie shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “But I’m afraid you have me completely confused.”

  “It’s simple, though,” Althea replied. “I will show you.”

  “Show me?” Bonnie asked.

  Althea nodded. “Yes. Let me go upstairs,” she said abruptly. “I’ll be right back.”

  Just like that, she was gone. Bonnie noticed that Althea tended to move with cat-like quickness, as if she was some sort of apparition. Or was that just the impression the woman had meant to give her?

  Either way, Bonnie was left alone for what she assumed would be a brief period. At first it gave her a chance to look around, and Bonnie scanned the room, confirming that it was as simple and sparsely furnished as her first impression had told her it was.

  Then, however, the seconds began to turn into minutes, and Bonnie began to feel more than a little awkward about being left alone. Had Althea simply forgotten about her?

  Just as she had that thought, though, Althea came bouncing back down the stairs. And she had a folded quilt in her arms, which brought a broad smile to Bonnie’s face.

  “Is this for the exhibit?” she asked brightly. “For the quilting bee?”

  “Well, yes,” Althea replied, nodding solemnly. “But really, it is for you.”

  Bonnie frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said, once again feeling more than a little bewildered by this strange woman. The mayor certainly wasn’t lying when he said she was odd, she thought.

  Once again, Althea flashed her best cryptic, Mona Lisa smile. “Here,” she said, her accent somehow turning more foreign and gypsy-like. “I show you.”

  Bonnie watched, wondering what in the world was going on. Slowly, Althea unfolded the quilt, standing as she did to provide room to fully display it.

  At first Althea thought this was quite odd.

  Of course she’s going to have a nice quilt, she thought. But why in the world would she be so anxious to show it to me? This woman’s reputation is known throughout Last Chance, and far beyond, at least from what the mayor tells me.

  Then she saw the depiction on the quilt, and Bonnie’s eyes widened in wonder.

  “See?” Althea said, giving her a satisfied smile. “What did I tell you?”

  Bonnie tried to speak, but suddenly, no matter how hard she tried, her jaw refused to work. And not only that, she couldn’t even utter a sound.

  The picture on the quilt was that of a baby. The infant was medium-size, taking up most of the quilt, and the baby was in a crib, sleeping. Bonnie couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or a girl, but she knew it didn’t matter.

  Behind the baby on the quilt was a landscape of sorts, and one that was easy to recognize at that. It was the familiar jutting peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and Bonnie smiled at the simple beauty of the thing.

  “It’s amazing,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “It must have taken you forever to do it.”

  Althea shrugged. “No matter how long it takes,” she said, lapsing back into her gypsy accent, which Bonnie now realized was more natural to her than western slang or speech. “As long as it comes out right in the end.”

  Bonnie nodded. “Well, it certainly did,” she replied. “I’m sure it will be quite popular.”

  But Althea began to shake her head, and vigorously at that. “No, no,” she said, becoming agitated. “This isn’t for the exhibit. It’s not for the fair, either.”

  Bonnie frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” she asked.

  “For you,” Althea said, pointing at Bonnie. “I made it just for you.”

  “But . . . why?” Bonnie asked, not knowing what else to say. “You don’t even know me.”

  The woman shrugged. “But I know why you are here, like I said,” she replied. “You want a baby, right?”

  Her words stopped Bonnie in her tracks. “But . . . how did you know?”

  Althea shrugged a second time. “I cannot tell you that,” she said. “I just knew.”

  With that, she stepped over to where Bonnie was sitting, and Althea handed her the quilt. Suddenly Bonnie was taken aback, and she found herself unable to extend her hands to accept it.

  “But . . . I can’t take this,” she said. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “So?” Althea said, shrugging again. “That’s why you should take it.”

  “But it should be on display,” Bonnie said, shaking her head nearly as vigorously as Althea had when she’d first begun to explain that it was for Bonnie. “It’s lovely! Everyone should see it!”

  This time it was Althea who shook her head. “No,” she replied firmly. “It is for you.” Then she paused to let the impact of that sink in. “That is its purpose.”

  Bonnie blinked. “Its purpose?” she echoed, feeling foolish as she repeated the word.

  “Yes.” Althea nodded vigorously. “That is why I made it. To help you have baby.”

  For an instant Bonnie was tempted to burst into laughter, but then she realized that Althea was quite serious about the quilt and why she’d made it.

  This is just ridiculous, she thought. Odd doesn’t even begin to do justice to how strange this woman is.

  “But . . . it’s a quilt,” she said, unable to suppress a slight giggle as she uttered the words.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Althea said with a shrug. “It will work. I tell you this to help you. Please do not doubt me.”

  Bonnie studied the woman’s expression, and she understood that Althea was quite serious about this. She tried to think of what to do about th
e strangeness of it, but nothing came to her.

  “It’s lovely,” she said again, mostly to give herself time to think. “But what about the exhibit? What will you use there? And what will be displayed at the fair?”

  Althea gave her a dismissive wave. “Those things are already taken care of,” she said, as if she was several steps ahead of Bonnie. “Here, let me show you.”

  Once again she reached out to hand the quilt to Bonnie, and this time she took it. When she had it firmly in hand, Althea quickly bustled over to the other side of the room, seeming to glide as she did.

  “Here,” she said, turning to the corner to her left, and then Althea reached down for a box on the floor.

  Bonnie hadn’t seen it when she came in, and she hadn’t noticed it when she scanned the room after Althea had left.

  So she had no idea what was in it.

  “But . . . I don’t understand,” Bonnie said. “What’s that?”

  The box was rather large, so big that Althea had to use two hands to carry it over to her chair, where she sat down and put it in her lap.

  “It has quilts,” she said simply. “For the fair, and for the exhibit.”

  “Really?” Bonnie said, her eyes widening.

  “Of course,” Althea replied with a shrug, as if it was nothing, “I prepared all of this in advance.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “But why?” she said, frowning in confusion. “Why would you go through all this? And do something for someone you don’t even know?”

  “Because you need a baby,” Althea said, shrugging again. She gave Bonnie a look that was almost condescending, as if she somehow should have known all this.

  “I do?” Bonnie shook her head.

  “Of course,” the woman replied. “It’s what’s supposed to happen for you.”

  “Supposed to,” Bonnie repeated.

  “Yes.”

  Several seconds went by, and neither woman spoke. The silence became more and more awkward for Bonnie, but Althea didn’t seem to mind that a bit.

  Bonnie found herself wishing she could be more comfortable with the silence, but she also understood that her nature was different from this woman’s.

  “You realize I don’t understand any of this,” she finally said. “I mean, not even the least little bit.”