Mail Order Megan (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 11)

by Elissa Strati

  Sonia moved quickly to arrange the baptism ceremony, to be held at her bedside in view of her continuing weakness. In addition to Reverend Meyer, the christening was attended only by Anna, her maid, and Megan, holding baby Camellia. As the water was poured over her head, baby Camellia held Reverend Meyer’s gaze with a wide blue stare of utter trust. Every baptism is special, as original sin is cleansed from the new soul and evil is exorcised, but Megan could truly feel the presence of God as the ceremony progressed.

  The Reverend stayed for some tea and cakes afterward, offering a blessing on all present and saying a special prayer for the sick over Sonia. When Megan moved to leave as well, Sonia begged her to stay for supper. “After all, you’ll be leaving in a few days and who knows when I’ll see you again!”

  “But with all this excitement today, Sonia, aren’t you too tired?”

  “This is the best kind of excitement and as good for me as a tonic, my dear Megan.”

  Looking up, Megan saw Anna nodding her encouragement. “Miss Sonia was counting on you staying tonight. I’ve already prepared the meal for the two of you.”

  Borrowing pen and paper, Megan scrawled a quick note to her brother, advising him of her plans.

  “I’ll just have my boy Toby run this over to your house,” Anna assured her.

  The meal was a light repast, chicken in lemon sauce and capers, preceded by a light beef broth and followed by a trifle, and even Sonia ate well, to Anna’s evident pleasure.

  “It does you good to have the company, Miss Sonia!”

  Camellia started fussing in the corner.

  “It’s time for her bottle! Would you like to give it to her, Megan?” offered Sonia.

  Although over the last several months she’d become comfortable with holding the infant, Megan had never been entrusted with feeding her and glowed at the honor being bestowed.

  “The doctor has us boil the bottles so she won’t take sick,” confided Anna. “And we boils the milk, too, and puts it in the bottle to cool, and then tests it to be sure it isn’t too hot,” she continued, demonstrating by shaking a few drops from the rubber teat onto the inside of her wrist. “It shouldn’t feel hot or cold but the same as your skin.”

  Megan watched all this intently, absorbing this arcane knowledge. She’d never thought about bottles. Most of the women she knew either fed their babies themselves or had a wet nurse. But her doctor had recommended against Sonia trying to feed Camellia to avoid affecting the infant with her lethargy.

  Cradling Camellia in her left arm, Anna demonstrated bringing the bottle to her lips without spraying milk about, then withdrew the bottle, to Camellia’s instant dismay, in order to transfer first the baby and then the bottle to Megan’s care. Megan only splashed a little milk as she carefully positioned the teat in Camellia’s mouth and watched in awe as she started sucking mightily.

  “You are going to want to burp her every ounce or two, to bring up any air she swallows,” cautioned Anna. “Just watch those marks and don’t let her get past two of them without a burp.”

  Her eyes rounded as she thought of the rude sounds for which her brother had been soundly thrashed when he’d made them in his mother’s hearing.

  “You want her to burp?”

  Peals of laughter rang from Anna and Sonia.

  “Oh, yes, Miss! Otherwise she’ll spit up and that can be a rare mess. Now here’s a cloth for your shoulder in case a bit leaks out with the belch. If you look down you’ll see she’s already had almost two ounces.”

  Helping place the cloth and then the child, Anna showed Megan how to burp a baby. She jumped at the noise issuing forth from the infant in response to the soft tapping on her back, to Sonia’s continued amusement.

  “Well, yes, you’ve had months to get used to this but until your daughter was born I’d never had much to do with youngsters!” Megan strove to make herself sound put upon but was too much enjoying herself and all the novel experiences to sound severe.

  Bottle finished and final burping session complete, Megan realized the little bundle was getting damp, and looked up at Anna with dismay!

  More giggles ensued at the horrified look on Megan’s face as she learned that babies did not make use of the water closet. She watched, fascinated, as Anna removed the offending garment, washed little Camellia’s bottom, and re-diapered her, carefully pinning the cloth with safety pins.

  “When you put them down, you have to make sure they are somewhere they can’t roll off. These critters are faster than you would think, so never turn your back on them. Of course girls aren’t as troublesome as boys. Boys you need to keep covered up at all times or they will drench you. Don’t worry,” Anna laughed at Megan’s baffled expression, and even Sonia looked intrigued, “you’ll understand when you have a boy child.”

  “I had no idea it was all so complicated,” admitted Megan.

  “Were it not for Anna, I would have had no clue how to go on. I’ve never really been around children either, except the other girls at school, and although we may not have always acted like it, we were—marginally—more mature than Camellia!” Sonia pointed at her daughter with her chin. “And besides, think of it as practice for when you have your own!”

  More peals of laughter as Megan blushed furiously. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.

  Warm, dry, and fed, Camellia soon dropped off to sleep as the women all looked on tenderly and with love. But a glance at Sonia showed her fading fast and Megan thanked her for “the best night of my life!” as she hugged her and wished her good night.

  Anna called Toby to escort her home, grasping her hand and thanking her for giving Miss Sonia such a wonderful evening. In her turn, Megan thanked Anna for the wonderful dinner, being such a terrific teacher, and the loan of her son as escort. Toby proudly offered his elbow and Megan reached down to accept it from the youngster as Anna beamed at them both.

  CHAPTER THREE – All Aboard

  Less than a week later Megan found herself bundled with her trunk and bags into a railroad car and given a brisk hug and farewell wave from her brother, who then, to her astonishment and dismay, strode away, not even staying to watch the train depart. Before she had time to process the fact she had been virtually abandoned to her fate, Sonia’s housekeeper Anna entered her railroad car, carrying a basket and hamper, followed by her son, Toby, lugging a valise.

  Happy to recognize someone, she cried out, “Why hello, Anna. What a surprise to see you here. Are you also traveling west?”

  “No Miss,” replied Anna, looking up from a ravaged face. “I've come to give you this from Miss Sonia,” and handed her a letter.

  Megan stared at it rather blankly, then looked back to Anna.

  “Did Sonia find more information about her husband?”

  “Don't reckon as I know, Miss Megan, but she did ask me to entrust with you her most precious possession. Oh, Miss,” she cried out breaking into sobs, “Oh, Miss Megan, my Miss Sonia died last night! Please, you have to take her.” And she thrust the basket into Megan's arms, dropping the hamper at her feet, and fled the car.

  Toby stood there a moment, tears running down his face, then placed the valise next to the hamper and flung himself onto her and the basket, hugging her tightly.

  “You know I love you, Miss Megan, and if your new husband doesn’t do right by you, you just write and let me know. And I love Miss Camellia, too, even though she’s just a baby, so if ever you need protection I’ll be there!”

  He pressed a kiss on her cheek and then fumbled for a scrap of paper in his pocket, which he pressed into her free hand with a meaningful look before fleeing.

  She could hear the whistle blowing as she watched the ten-year old boy disappear from view, then looked down into the basket to discover Sonia's daughter Camellia gazing back at her.

  Heavens above, she thought, I know nothing about infants. I can't do this. Sonia is gone? How can that be? Yes, she looked frail last night when I stopped by to say goodbye,
but she’d seemed to be on the mend since Camellia’s baptism!

  She realized she was still clutching the paper that Toby had thrust into her hand along with the letter handed her by Anna. The whistle blew one last long wail as the train jerked into motion.

  With the train underway, there was nothing she could do until at least the next station. She wasn't sure if this line stopped in Harrisburg or just went straight to Pittsburgh, but she must figure out something. Heavens! She couldn't bring a baby all the way to Arizona Territory to meet a stranger!

  She carefully set the basket on the seat next to her, mindful of the jolting of the car, and looked again at the letter in her hand. Carefully she slid her gloved finger under the flap and pried it open. She slowly pulled the paper from the envelope and opened it. In Sonia’s rounded hand the words spilled, clearly but tremulously across the page in a downward slant.

  Dearest Megan,

  I put on a brave face when you came to say farewell, but I already knew that I was dying. I sent a note to my family asking their aid for my daughter and it was returned unopened. You are the only friend I have remaining to me and thus I wish to entrust to you the nearest object of my heart, my darling daughter and your goddaughter, Camellia. Camellia was born from the truest love and has her father's beautiful blue eyes. I know all infants have blue eyes, but am certain hers will retain his sparkle as she grows older. It is my dearest wish that you find her father to reunite them.

  I had Anna put all her father’s letters in the valise along with my jewelry, and a few other trinkets to remind her of her mother. I hope the letters may assist you in determining dear Tom’s whereabouts. He has been “upcountry” before, but never quite so long and so I continue to fret after him.

  I wanted Anna to travel with you but she has her own family here to care for. Of course you know Toby, who has been indispensable helping with household chores and errands, but he has two younger siblings at home as well as Anna’s husband Will, who is a good man.

  Her arms dropped to her lap as she stared into space. Oh, dear, she mused, abashed, I never even thought about Anna’s private life. She was so much a part of the household I never imagined her elsewhere! Raising the letter again, she continued reading.

  I have also left you my journal and it will tell you much that I’d like to include here but my strength is waning. I die easy, knowing my darling will be cared for as lovingly as if she were with me. Your strength has kept me going this long, beyond what the doctor had even thought possible, so no thoughts of “what if” or “I should have” should trouble your mind. I am leaving the best of me with you and thank you from my heart as I know you will carry on with this unexpected burden because that is your nature.

  I am the one who feels guilty for not preparing you. But I also know you would have come up with an hundred other plans and schemes before agreeing that this is the best and most practical way to unite Camellia with her father expeditiously. Frankly, my dear, I hadn’t the energy to explain each detail of my reasoning.

  Please know you have my eternal love and gratitude and I will be watching over you.

  Everlastingly yours,

  Sonia

  Tears streaming down her face, she tucked the pages neatly back in their envelope and picked up the scrap from Toby. On it was printed laboriously an address and his full name, Tobias Smith. She placed the slip carefully into the envelope, as well, and tucked it into her reticule.

  Oh, Camellia, what are we to do?

  But even had she spoken aloud, Camellia wouldn’t have answered. The rocking of the train had lulled her to sleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR – “Auntie”

  Paul had secured her a private compartment on the train so Megan was surprised when a portly woman carrying her own valise squeezed through the door panting, and plopped on the seat opposite her.

  “How good of you to let me share your car,” she said brazenly, in a gruff falsetto.

  And then, spotting Camellia, “Oh, what a precious bundle. May I hold him?”

  The look and sly manner of the intruder had Megan on full alert. She was a city girl and knew a ruffian when she saw—and smelled!—one, and this person was not someone she wished to know.

  “Madam, you are in a private carriage and I would ask that you remove yourself, please.”

  “Well, that's mighty unfriendly! I’ll have you know I’m your Aunt Millie and will be accompanying you to your destination.”

  “No,” she snapped back, “it was your behavior that was unfriendly, when you burst into my compartment. I have no Aunt Millie. I again request that you remove yourself before I call the porter and have you removed forcibly.”

  Unpleasant sounding grumbling and growling issued from the figure and Megan stared at the woman more closely, noticing a sooty quality to the face under its copious and badly applied powder, as if not properly washed or, on closer inspection, not closely shaved!

  “You're no woman!” she declared. “You’re a Willie, not a Millie!”

  “I do not understand what you are talking about. Come, dearie, there is no need for such dramatics.”

  The beady eyes staring across at her glared and yellowed teeth were revealed between snarling lips as the voice hissed out at her.

  “When that conductor comes through I’m your Aunt Millie or your precious baby boy will be dead and so will you.” The hand that withdrew from beneath the shawl was large and knotted and not in the least bit feminine.

  She watched aghast as the creature in front of her reached into its reticule and pulled out a small derringer, its evil eye staring back at her.

  “You couldn’t possibly get away with harming us.” She shook her head in disgust, hoping to hide her quaking. “You are very unobservant, you know. You cannot even tell that the child is a girl despite the fact the basket is decorated in pink.”

  Camellia began to whimper and Megan sniffed the air.

  “Well if you are going to be traveling with me, ‘Aunt Willie,’ I suggest you make yourself useful.”

  Turning toward Camellia she crooned, “Perhaps this stranger can assist in changing your diapers, my sweet.”

  A disgusted look formed on the face across from her. “Don't play the fool, girl! You just remember I'm your Aunt Millie.”

  “Well, Aunt Willie, you need to help me change the diaper. I’ve never done so,” she calmly lied, “and a ‘woman’ of your years surely has the experience.”

  “Don’t be a fool, girl! Now give me that baby! The conductor is nearly upon us!”

  He hefted himself up, unsteady against the swaying of the train, and reached out toward the basket as the train lurched side to side, slowing and seeming almost to stop before suddenly jerking forward. Crying out, he fell forward onto his knees, the gun flying out of his hands and sliding behind the basket as he landed with his face in her beruffled lap.

  Shrieking, she kicked out hard, trying to dislodge him. He cried out in agony when the blow landed somewhat below his stomach. Rearing back, his arms reached down to cradle his injury. She grabbed his ears as he lifted his head and she slammed it into her knee, still screaming for help, which suddenly arrived.

  The conductor flung open the door but it was the man behind him, dressed in a bowler and inexpensive suit, who came to her rescue and wrenched the villain away, pulling one arm behind his back as “Aunt Millie” struggled to protect himself with the other as he yelled out, “Get her away from me! Get that she devil away from me!”

  Cacophony reigned as, her cries rising above the din, Camellia howled shrilly, forgotten in the clamor.

  With Aunt Millie/Willie under restraint and removed from her compartment, Megan turned to the wailing infant and picked her up, keeping the swaddling thickly around her. She started crooning softly and rubbing Camellia’s back. Gradually, she quieted down to a whimper. Not only does her diaper need changing, but I imagine she’s probably quite hungry.

  CHAPTER FIVE – Aftermath

  The conductor cleared his throa
t.

  Megan looked up, startled to see him still standing there.

  “I thought you’d left with that attacker!”

  “No, Madam, I was asked to wait with you to be sure you are all right.”

  “Yes, I’m fine now that nasty thing is gone, but as you can see, poor Camellia is not. She is in need of a diaper and a bottle, not necessarily in that order. While I am sure Anna has left a bottle in that hamper, I haven’t had the opportunity to check for it nor the means to heat the milk. Might you be able to arrange that for me please?”

  He bowed, slightly in awe of this young woman’s composure in light of what he’d just witnessed, and stepped out to summon a porter while she shifted the baby and reached under the seat for the hamper. Within, she discovered not only several bottles for Camellia, but a tempting array of nibbles for herself.

  Bless Anna! Even in her grief she has mothered me. Tears formed in her eyes. No, I haven’t time for that right now. First I must see to Camellia—that’s the best way I can honor Sonia. Oh, please, God, enfold Sonia into Your bosom where she belongs and watch over her darling daughter. Continue to protect her with Your love, as You showed just now, rescuing us from that demon.

  Further rummaging revealed two folded diapers with spare pins and a cloth for washing Camellia. She suspected the valise would have more supplies, but hoped there would be some means of washing out the soiled linens! At least there was a waxed canvas bag tucked in next to the diapers, a place to hold them until they could be cleaned.

  The conductor stepped back into the car with the porter, who took the bottle, giving his own little bow, and offered to bring it back warm, “in just a jiffy, Madam.”

  “Did you need to see my ticket, Sir?”

  “Oh, thank you, Madam, that would be most helpful.” He tore a small stub from the bottom and returned the ticket to her. “And your maid?”

  A look of sadness and regret shadowed her face as she replied, thinking of Sonia, who would now never join her husband, and Anna, who had a family of her own, and then her own lady’s’ maid. “She couldn’t come.”