by Lydia Olson
Father,
The purpose of this letter is to inform you that Anna and I are safe and well. There is no need to call the authorities or come looking for us. We have decided to become mail order brides. Not because it was ever what we wanted for ourselves, but we agreed that it would be vastly preferable to being forced into marriages not of our own choosing.
We know you will not agree with our decision and so we have chosen to leave without saying goodbye face to face, in order to spare all of us the unpleasantness of another fight. Please know that we would not have chosen this path for our lives had you not forced our hand. We pray that all of us will find the happiness we so desperately seek.
All that remains is to bid you farewell. We hope you will find peace and happiness someday, as we have gone in pursuit of our own.
Sincerely,
Rose and Anna
P.S. I have no objection to your selling the house to pay your debts. Since it has fallen into such great disrepair, I do not know how much it will fetch, but most likely it will be more than a bride price, perhaps even more than two. Besides which, it is no longer the home I knew as a child.
Rose
Glancing back at the couch, Rose took one last look at the man who had made their lives all kinds of miserable for the last nine months. She withdrew the letter from her pocket and dropped it on the broken sideboard as she simultaneously squeezed Anna’s hand.
Without another thought, Rose reached out and gripped the old brass doorknob. Slowly, she turned it and pushed. The hinges creaked faintly, but the oil she had applied that morning kept them turning smoothly and silently for the most part.
Only once they stepped outside, each gripping the handle of a hastily packed carpet bag, did Rose realize that she was holding her breath. She inhaled shakily, then quietly closed the door behind her and descended the porch steps. Out here in the light cast by the gas street lamps, Rose could see Anna’s face.
She was scared, Rose could tell by the pallid hue of her skin and her wide, restless eyes. A wave of compassion swept over her. It was easier for her to leave than it was for Anna, and if she could have helped it she would never have allowed her to come along.
“You can change your mind, Anna,” Rose said softly as they moved quietly away from the old house. “I won’t mind in the least, you know? He is your father, after all.”
Anna hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then shook her head emphatically. “Staying behind without you terrifies me far more than striking out into the great unknown on an adventure with you by my side,” she whispered adamantly.
“The train ride might be an adventure, love, but neither of us knows for sure what we’re going to find at the end of that ride. I can’t guarantee you that you’ll have your happy ending,” Rose reminded her stepsister gravely.
“I know,” Anna replied, her voice sad. “But then at least I’ll be free to come looking for you. He might be my father, but he doesn’t care about me. You do.”
Rose wished Anna’s words could have been untrue. However, they both knew the evidence suggested strongly that they were indeed very, sadly true.
“Besides,” Anna added, as they hurried off down the street, “who knows if Providence will smile on me and I’ll find true love with Lewis?” The dreaminess in her voice was unmistakable. “Like Esther Morse, in A Story of the Oregon Trail.”
“This is no time for chasing up dime novel fantasies, Anna, we have a train to catch first!” Rose hissed, laughing under her breath. It was a welcome relief to the tension constricting her throat.
They were almost at the end of the street when Rose paused to look back at the now bleak façade of the townhouse she had grown up in. For a moment it was like the veil of time was lifted and she saw the house as it had once been when her own father was alive––a place full of music, love, laughter, and bedtime stories.
Her mother was out in the late summer sunshine, picking roses from her prize collection of bushes that bloomed in the tiny bit of earth between house and street. A ginger tabby cat washed its paws while it lay in the sun that streamed in at the single bay window beside the front door. The cheeky bark of a fat beagle echoed from the parlor all the way out into the street.
“Rose,” her mother’s voice reverberated in the warm summer air, “won’t you be a darling and bring me Grandma’s crystal vase?”
Her mother never kept precious things hidden in cupboards or boxes in attics like some people. She always said a thing of beauty was meant to be enjoyed by those who owned it, not hidden away for some doubtful future date. “Every day is special, Rose,” she told her often, usually in the mornings while she combed out her young daughter’s long, straight, chestnut tresses. “There’s no point in keeping anything for a special occasion while life gives us special moments all the time when we least expect it.”
Despite the faint feeling of betrayal to her mother’s words, Rose couldn’t help but think that those days, when every day had been special, were gone, now. She mourned that life that she would never have again.
All she clung to was one small hope that perhaps, by being the Lonehaven sheriff’s mail order bride, she would be able to make a life like that for herself. It could be the same kind of life she had lived in her childhood, only far, far away from here. Maybe someday in the future every day would be special again. One thing she did know for sure was that that wasn’t going to happen by her simply sitting around and waiting for it to fall in her lap.
The vision faded and Rose decisively turned her back on what was left of her childhood home. She was ready to make a new life for herself. On her own terms.
Chapter Two
Anna sighed loudly and placed the dime novel she had just finished reading on the train seat beside her. “I shall have a romance like the one Laura Hewson and Lieutenant Howard had,” she declared with stars in her eyes as she stared out of the train window.
Rose looked over at her little sister from where she sat opposite her. She had been reading the copy of Little Women she had bought for her mother all those months ago and had never been able to read to her. She laid the book face down on her lap and smiled wistfully at Anna.
“I certainly wish that for you, Anna dear,” she said gently. Her stepsister was only six months younger than her, but sometimes Rose felt like Anna’s much older guardian sister. “If the picture Lewis sent you is anything to go by, you might even get your wish,” she added with a wink.
Anna blushed and giggled. “He is rather handsome, isn’t he? Though that’s not all that attracted me to him, mind.” Her eyes regained their faraway look and she stared out of the window again at the Nebraska landscape rolling by. “If what he writes is anything to go by, he is the kindest, gentlest, most generous gentleman in all the Great Plains.”
“He better make sure he is, because my sister deserves only the best,” Rose said, meaning every word.
A shadow of hesitation flitted across Anna’s face. “You don’t think he would have lied to me in his letters, do you?”
“Oh dear, I’ve gone and put doubts in your head with my overzealous pragmatism!” Rose chastised herself. “I truly pray he loves you and cherishes you with all his heart, Anna dearest. I’m sure it would kill me to see you suffer hurt of any kind.”
“Oh, Rose, nobody can love me as much as you do,” Anna gushed and crossed over to her sister’s seat to wrap her arms around her in an excited embrace. She suddenly sat back and looked intently at Rose, her lips slightly puckered and her forehead wrinkled like a pond on a windy day.
“But what about you?” she asked, taking her sister’s hands in her own. “I still don’t understand why you would agree to marry a man who clearly stated in his very first letter that he only wants a marriage of convenience and nothing more.”
Rose smiled wanly. “At least I know exactly what to expect and there’s no way I can be disappointed,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I expect I shall be like Jo in Little Women, and throw myself into my
work and my books, and so there will be no time for silly nonsense like falling in love.”
“After all those dashing young ranchers that sent you letters? Why, I would have very quickly written back to that Clayton Mayfield fellow from Texas if I were you. That man’s letter near charmed me off my feet and he wasn’t even writing to me!”
Rose laughed, thankful that Anna wasn’t making it too serious of an issue. “Love complicates things that are best left uncomplicated. All I really want is to be in control of my destiny, dear sister,” she said withdrawing one hand from Anna’s grasp and hooking her hair behind her ear. “Ever since our beloved Mamma died, I’ve felt like a small rowing boat in a stormy ocean, tossed to and fro by forces I have no control over.”
Actually, if she was honest, she had begun to feel that way even before that, when her father had died. More importantly, when Albert Hyde had convinced her mother to marry him so that she could keep the house that she and Rose’s father had built their life in. Albert had surely known her mother’s salary as a seamstress would not bring in nearly enough to support her and her daughter and pay for the upkeep of their spacious two-bedroomed home. She didn’t want to mention it to Anna, though. Whatever Albert Hyde was, he was still Anna’s father.
“I miss your beautiful long tresses,” Anna said abruptly, smoothing back Rose’s rebellious cropped mop. “But I think I know why you cut them all off.”
“I think so, too,” Rose said, chucking her under the chin. “Because I told you already. Long hair will just cause headaches for me out there on the plains.”
“It’s not about that,” Anna said, curling a lock of Rose’s neck-length hair between her fingers. “You don’t want Benjamin to fall in love with you.”
Rose felt a shock run through her at the candid accuracy of her sister’s words. It was true, she could not deny it. There was nothing about her impending marriage that had anything to do with a romantic union. She and Benjamin were two people who have come to a mutual agreement that would serve each of their separate interests equally well.
Love would just complicate matters. It always did. She had read enough novels to know that. And besides, what had love done for Mamma?
“Oh, is it your dime novels that make you so worldly wise?” Rose joked, conscious that Anna saw right through her façade. Her sister proved her right by giving her another hug, only this one felt fierce and protective, not at all like the girlish euphoria she had exhibited before.
“I’m sure going to miss you, Rose Higgins,” Anna said as she extracted herself from Rose’s return embrace. “You better be sure to write me. I’ll write you too, as soon as I possibly can.”
“Oh, you can count on it,” Rose replied, nodding passionately.
Anna smiled at her and then her eyelashes veiled her eyes for a moment. “Do you think Lewis will be the same person that I’ve imagined him to be all this time?”
Rose felt her heart constrict. She didn’t want to lie in the name of hope, but speaking plainly just felt so pessimistic. Still, she was nothing if not a compulsive truth teller. “That is a question I cannot answer with any certainty, sister love. I can only hope it is so.”
Just then the conductor came by, checking tickets and declaring intermittently in a bored monotone, “Ogallala. Next stop, Ogallala.”
“That’s me! That’s my stop!” Anna exclaimed, jumping up from the seat as if she had been stung and rushing to peer through the window. Rose’s curiosity overwhelmed her sense of foreboding at having to say goodbye to her only sister and best friend in all the world, and she joined Anna in squinting through the dusty glass.
The train track ran down alongside an uneven dirt road which in turn was lined with a long row of various buildings, some merely practical, some trying hard to look opulent and appealing. A collection of buggies, stagecoaches, and saddled horses cluttered the road, apparently awaiting the arrivals from afar. Cowboys lounged under building awnings while businessmen in suits checked their watches or remained hidden behind their newspapers. There was a buzz of activity about the place that was different to what Rose had known in Frederick.
The brakes of the train squealed on the iron rails as the great machine came to a gradual stop and Anna looked at Rose, her eyes suddenly shrouded with apprehension. She knew exactly what was on her sister’s mind. She had been thinking precisely the same thoughts.
“What if he turns out to be horrid?” Anna gave voice to the words in her eyes. “What if we just don’t get along?”
“We won’t know unless we try, Anna,” Rose said gently. “We’re here now, we may as well go through with it.”
Anna nodded breathlessly and wrapped her arms around Rose. She clung to her for a few seconds then drew back and squared her shoulders. Grasping her carpet bag firmly in her hand, she marched toward the coach door.
Stepping down into the gravel, the two sisters emerged from the steam and dust into the street now milling with people. Doing their best to avoid uncomfortably appreciative stares from men of myriad descriptions, they made their way to the building with the sign that read, “Post Office,” just as Lewis Ritchie had instructed in his last letter to Anna.
“I’ll be wearing a red necktie and a white hat,” he had added.
Rose squinted against the bright sunshine, trying to see into the solid shade under the post office porch awning. Over the bobbing heads of people rushing to greet loved ones last seen many moons ago, or nervous passengers anxious not to miss their train, she could just make out the white hat. As they moved closer, the red necktie became clear. As soon as they stepped up onto the floorboards of the porch, a strikingly handsome man stepped up and met them with a broad smile.
“Why, I would know this lovely lady anywhere,” he said in a comfortable drawl that immediately set Rose at ease. His eyes were riveted on Anna as they approached. Rose gripped her hand, but her sister was similarly enraptured by the man she saw before her.
Anna held out her hand for Lewis to take as she curtseyed slightly, all her previous doubts seemingly forgotten. “It’s a great pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Ritchie… or may I call you Lewis?” she said, clearly unsure how much propriety was necessary since they had been communicating for the last two months.
Lewis kissed her hand. “I’m sure Lewis is fine, Anna, dear,” he said.
All of a sudden, Rose found herself fighting down the overwhelming urge to drag Anna right back to the train with her. She, who had just assured Anna that the risk was worth taking, suddenly wanted nothing more than to call a halt to it all.
“You must be Ms. Rose Higgins, Anna’s sister,” Lewis said, turning his attention on her. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, ma’am, and I sure am happy that you accompanied my beautiful bride on her journey here.”
Rose reflected on how he made it sound that she was doing him a personal favor, when he was the stranger and Anna was her sister. She also had the distinct impression that he was fully aware of her frantic thoughts of going back on their arrangement.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Ritchie,” she responded, shifting her feet slightly and looking round at the bustle of humanity in the street. She did not yet feel comfortable with the idea of calling him by his first name, even though they were about to become related by marriage.
Lewis nodded a greeting to someone passing behind her and then turned his rather striking blue eyes on her. “I assure you, Ms. Higgins,” he said, bowing slightly at the waist as he matched her decorum, “that I undertake to treat your sister, my wife, with the utmost love and respect. I am confident she will have a wonderful life here with me. At least, I aim to make it my first priority.”
Rose stared at him while she kept clinging to Anna’s hand. His voice and his eyes both spoke of kindness and unruffled calm. He didn’t seem nervous or agitated, not even irritated with her apparent reticence to relinquish her beloved Anna to his care. She smothered the panic rising in her chest and smiled weakly.
“T
hank you, Mr. Ritchie,” she replied. “I’m afraid this adventure may be proving to be a little more rich for my constitution than I initially suspected. I am sure Anna will be very happy in her new life with you.”
“Oh, so am I!” Anna exclaimed, her shining eyes still fixed on Lewis’ face. Then she turned to face her sister again. “I know! Why don’t you stay here with me and Lewis, Rose?” she said impetuously.
Someone bumped her shoulder as they passed and threw her off balance, but not as much as the overwhelming desire she felt to go along with Anna’s impulsive idea. “Stay here? Oh, but I couldn’t,” Rose protested, feeling like she didn’t really need much convincing in that moment. “I’m sure Mr. Ritchie wouldn’t want me imposing on his newly married life.”