by Lydia Olson
“Not at all,” Lewis interjected. “You’re most welcome to stay. I know many a fine gentleman around these parts who would be only too happy to lavish all his love and care on a lady as lovely and refined as your good self. It’s very likely you won’t be imposing on us for more than a week,” he added, with a wink and a grin. His words made Rose squirm inwardly. She wasn’t accustomed to men complimenting her on her looks. Especially men she had only just met.
“Come on, Rose, what have you got to lose?” Anna said, hope glowing in her eyes.
“It wouldn’t be right,” Rose said, sadly. “I made an agreement and I need to keep my side of the bargain.” They were difficult words to say. There was nothing she would have loved more than to stay with her sister, but her honor was her honor.
Besides, she had her freedom now. If things didn’t work out, she could always come find Anna and Lewis and look for a new beginning. That was the beauty of it, really. Her greatest freedom was the permission to make mistakes and simply start over, no matter how many times she failed.
“Anna says you’ll be marrying the sheriff of Lonehaven, Wyoming,” Lewis said, sounding more like he was asking a question than making a statement.
“Yes,” Rose affirmed, “Sheriff Bartley is his name. Do you know him?”
Lewis shook his head. “No, can’t say that I do,” he said, “but I’ve heard of him. Sounds like a solid fellow. I hope you’ll be happy with him.”
He said something else, but the shriek of young children, shouting, “Pappa! Pappa!” as they ran down the steps behind her, drowned out his words.
“Thank you,” Rose said, deciding not to ask Lewis to repeat himself, and then turned her gaze on Anna. “Remember, now, you promised to write me and tell me everything. I’m holding you to it.”
“Oh, yes! I shall write and tell you all about my wedding, Rose. I promise!”
“You better do that, Sister, or I’ll come right back here and fetch you.” Rose was more serious than she had ever been, but she laughed, making light of her own threat.
“I will, I will! I promise!” Anna said, laughing along with Rose.
The train whistle broke shrilly into their mirth, reminding Rose again that she had another destination to be at, her own uncertain future to walk blindly into. At least she had had the chance to meet Anna’s new husband, she consoled herself, and he looked like a fine, upstanding person. The hollow feeling in her gut must be simply fear. Fear of the unknown.
What was it that Mamma had always said? “Courage is not the absence of fear, my dears, it is simply doing what you know is the right thing to do, even when you are petrified.”
Rose took a deep breath, kissed her sister on the cheek and gave her one long, clinging, embrace. Then she walked quickly back to the train without looking back. She got back to her seat just as the coach jolted into motion again. Peering out of the window, she saw that Anna had run out into the street and stood waving her handkerchief high in the air, her face shining, her mouth open in a wide, laughing smile.
Anna always has been the more optimistic of the two of us, Rose thought warmly, as she waved furiously back, choking down a sob and giving her sister the most hopeful smile she could muster. Then, as the town of Ogallala disappeared from her sight, taking her sister with it, she leaned her forehead against the glass and let those pent-up tears flow freely down her cheeks.
This was the moment she had most dreaded since the idea had first entered her mind to offer herself as a mail order bride. At the time it had felt like merely a pipedream, now the finality of it all began to manifest in stark clarity. Of all the things she had given up to pursue her newfound independence, Anna was the only thing she truly regretted leaving behind. She prayed a silent prayer that their parting would be short and not too unbearable for her.
Even more fervently, she prayed that Lewis would be a good husband to Anna. She was such a fragile little thing. Like a butterfly. She remembered Lewis’ smile as he had looked at her sister under the Ogallala Post Office awning. Something in his eyes had seemed a little too ingratiating, but, then again, she could just be oversensitive in her vulnerable state.
What I need right now is a little more of Anna’s positivity, she thought and brushed the irksome feeling aside.
Chapter Three
“Are you all right, dear?” a kindly voice said to the right of Rose, making her jump slightly. She turned her tear-streaked face in the direction of the sound and saw a kindly, gray-haired lady looking at her with gentle concern.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there, ma’am,” Rose stammered and then looked down to see the lady holding out Anna’s dime novel. She had evidently forgotten it there on the seat when the conductor had called her stop. Beside her sat a gentleman, his face hidden behind his newspaper. Rose could see only his neatly pressed black trousers and well-polished boots protruding from beneath the black-and-white print.
“No need to apologize, child,” the lady said, her voice like a gentle breeze on a fall day. “I found this on the seat, here. Is it yours, perhaps?”
“It’s my sister’s, ma’am, but I don’t think she’ll be reading as much anymore. She just got off at Ogallala. We’ve both given ourselves as mail order brides,” Rose said in a rush. Then, suddenly realizing she was sharing more than she wanted to with a complete stranger, she added, “Thank you,” and took the book from the lady’s outstretched hand.
“That is quite a dime novel adventure in itself, isn’t it?” The lady smiled, and Rose could sense no judgement in her demeanor.
“Well, yes,” Rose said, taking out her handkerchief and drying her eyes as she sat down on her own seat. “We do see it that way. I will miss her dreadfully, but I suppose it’s for the best. At the very least, it’s better than the future we might have had in Frederick.”
“Ah, yes,” the lady said, nodding sagely, “a fresh start can do a body the world of good. I would know. I moved out West as a young woman, too, from Boston, and I’ve never regretted it. Not one day. Not that I never saw hard times, mind you, but my freedom was worth all of it.”
“Oh! I would never have guessed…” Rose didn’t know why she felt so surprised, but one thing was very clear: this complete stranger was saying the exact words she needed to hear.
The lady laughed, a clear, bell-like laugh that seemed to dispel all the clouds of doubt gathering around Rose’s thoughts. “There’s a whole world out here that few folks back East know anything about, my dear,” she said, her laughter still coloring her voice. “We were just visiting our daughter and son-in-law in Ogallala. Now we’re on our way back home to Cheyenne.”
Rose smiled. She imagined herself, many years from now, on a train, saying very similar words to a young woman who desperately needed encouragement.
“My name is Rose, Rose Higgins,” she said impulsively, feeling like she couldn’t speak to someone she felt so inexplicably close to without her at least knowing her name.
“And mine’s Beth, Beth Lundgren,” the lady replied. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Rose.” She winked and gently elbowed the gentleman beside her. “And this is my husband George,” she said, looking expressly at the large swathe of newspaper beside her. Abruptly, it lowered to reveal the grey-whiskered face of George Lundgren. He peered at Rose over his spectacles.
“Yes, quite,” he said, absentmindedly. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Rose. I do hope you’ll keep my wife busy so she won’t pester me so much while I try to take in the news of the day.”
Rose felt a shock of tension run through her, and then she noticed the smile half-hidden under Mr. Lundgren’s copious moustache and the twinkle in his eye.
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy every moment of her company while I’m at it, sir,” she said, blushing slightly at the boldness the kind gentleman awakened in her.
Mr. Lundgren gave a grunt that sounded, to Rose, like an amused chuckle and re-immersed himself in his newspaper.
Leaning back on her seat, Rose felt hersel
f relax as she and Mrs. Lundgren chatted about family pets and roses, and the great novels of Charles Dickens and the Bronté sisters. After a while, Mrs. Lundgren took out a rug and laid it over her lap.
“It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but if you don’t mind, my dear young friend,” she said, “I do feel rather tired, and it’s a silly, old lady habit of mine to sleep with the sound of the train clacking and the feel of the coach swaying.”
“Not at all, Mrs. Lundgren,” Rose assured her with a smile.
The older lady settled back on her seat and closed her eyes with her hands folded demurely in her lap.
Rose watched her for a little while and felt a sudden pang of longing for her mother. Her hand strayed absently to her copy of Little Women, her fingers caressing the worn leather cover. She must have read that book half a dozen times since Mamma had passed on.
Her gaze wandered to the window where the undulating landscape rolled by like waves. Rose had never seen so much open space stretching for miles in every direction, unbroken as the ocean, except for a stray hill or a clutch of trees, and here and there a homestead. I wonder if this is what Lonehaven looks like? she thought. Wide open spaces dotted with mountains rising out of the earth like the icebergs in the Arctic Sea that Papa told me about.
Thinking of her new home turned her thoughts to Benjamin. With her new traveling companion fast asleep on the seat opposite her, she dug out his letters that she had tied together with an old, red hair ribbon. Loosening the bow that held the ribbon in place, she opened up the first one, smiling indulgently at his formal address.
Dear Ms. Higgins,
First let me say thank you for your reply to my advertisement in the New Beginnings Mail Order Bride Catalogue. I must say, I was suitably impressed with your most eloquent response.
I feel obligated, however, to state here, right at the onset of our communication, that the purpose for my seeking a bride is one that may not be well received by most starry-eyed young ladies. As sheriff of my town, I feel that it is time for me to increase my perceived stability among the town folk and this is an endeavor that would be greatly advanced by my finding a good, supportive wife.
Thus, as you may well have deduced, I am seeking, if I may put it in such blunt terms, a marriage of convenience rather than one of emotional or romantic entanglement.
That said, I am a most respectable gentleman who will provide a good home, with a comfortable and peaceful atmosphere. I was struck by your response to my advertisement because it portrayed you as a very practical and sensible young woman, exactly the kind of lady I feel would be suited to my needs.
I would in no way wish to string anyone along on a premise on which I had no intention to deliver, so I tell you this in order that you may make an informed decision on the matter. You are free to let me know if you no longer wish to pursue a possible marriage to myself on these terms. I assure you, I will understand completely and treat your decision with all the respect it deserves.
For my part, now that I have that very important consideration out of the way, I would very much like to get to know you better. My mother was a great lover of literature, God rest her soul, and it is a pleasant thought to me that you also have such a regard for literary excellence. I feel it is something that may make our life together more personable, considering both of our circumstances.
Also, although being a lawman most certainly does not make one rich, I do have a very comfortable home, with a semblance of a garden bordering it. I am sure, with your love of gardens, which you mentioned, you will be able to make it come to life again and offer much pleasure and joy to all who pass by. I will certainly do what I can to ensure that you are provided with the necessary plants and seeds to make this desire of yours a possibility. . .
Rose lowered the letter to her lap and stared out of the window again. It was growing late and the hazy glow of dusk was beginning to descend on the world outside. Her body ached from the three long days of sitting on the hard train seat, and her feet felt puffy. But her heart was feeling considerably lighter than it had when she had left Anna at Ogallala.
Now that she had taken care of her sister’s future, she could think about her own. More to the point, the man who she was planning to share it with. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would end up crossing almost the entire continent to marry a sheriff in Wyoming, of all places, she thought to herself. And one that has such a way with words, too.
Not that she was harboring any hopes for a romance to spark into flame. He had left her in no doubt as to the bleakness of any such prospects. She had to admit, though, it would be nice to at least have company with similar interests to hers while she was out there assuming her marital duties.
After all, her motivations for getting married, in the first place, were very similar to his own. It was about survival to some degree, but more than that, it was about being in control of her own life. And it seemed that he was agreeable enough to making their business arrangement a mutually beneficial one. In fact, he seemed to be agreeable to going quite out of his way to do so.
That thought was not at all an unpleasant one, and Rose found herself smiling abstractedly. Oh! she immediately chided herself internally. You’ll end up a worse daydreamer than Anna if you don’t watch yourself!
She looked down at the letter in her hands and resumed reading.
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