This thought started anew the mantra in her head. Father is dead. What do I do now?
With her head held high and her carriage straight, Kitty began the ten-block walk to the lawyer’s office. Staring ahead of her, she studiously avoided making eye contact with anyone, neighbors included. Kitty knew what was said about her by them. She was considered unfriendly and odd. Still, she remembered the unkind remarks and taunts hurled at her during childhood by so many of neighborhood children. Though she might forgive them, forgetting was something she’d yet to do.
After five blocks, the heat of the brilliantly shining sun began to take its toll of her. Her skin inside the dark and heavy garments was slick with perspiration. Her mother had passed away during January so the mourning dress was made out of heavy wool rather than a linen material more appropriate for an unusually warm fall day.
She longed to raise the netting and feel and hint of cooling breeze against her face. Fear and her own self-loathing prevented her from doing so entirely. Resting for a moment on a bench placed in front of the dress shop, Kitty did, however, raise the edge of the netting and roll it so that her chin and mouth were exposed.
Though she felt nervous being out amongst people, Kitty nonetheless relished the freedom to walk along the street. For the last year, her father’s deteriorating health had kept her confined with him in their home. Much of her life, her father had been distant and always occupied with his business. The last year had allowed the two of them to grow closer. She had needed to be with him constantly since his first debilitating fit of apoplexy. As the doctor had predicted, he eventually suffered another attack so severe that he passed on.
That memory triggered her worry. Father is dead. What do I do now?
Self-absorbed as she worried, Kitty almost walked past Mr. McKinley’s office. Composing her thoughts, she entered the front door of the building and ascended the steps to the man’s second-floor office.
Seated behind her desk, the secretary’s blonde head was bent over her typewriter. After hitting a few more keys and then pressing the foot treadle to return the carriage to the next line, she raised her face and greeted Kitty with an impersonal smile. “Good afternoon. How may I assist you?”
After explaining in a soft and low voice that she had an appointment with Mr. McKinley, Kitty took the seat indicated for her. The woman rose and lightly tapped on the inner-office door. Kitty assumed Mr. McKinley invited her in since the woman she opened it.
Only a moment passed before Mr. McKinley, himself, came out and, greeting her, invited her into the inner office. Once seated before his desk, Kitty waited expectantly for him to read her father’s will.
Though the lawyer had seated himself, he made no move to pick up the will. Instead he fixed her with a speculative gaze before asking, “What do you plan to do now that your father has passed?”
Quietly clearing her throat, Kitty forced herself to speak loudly enough to be heard. “I’d rather hoped you might have an idea about that.”
The man nodded. “Yes, I do have a few suggestions. Whether you act on them is up to you.” He paused and Kitty wondered why. Then he shocked her with his suggestions.
“You’ll need to sell the house. It’s left to you in your father’s will. As was the business.” At this he shook his head, “But of course that’s already gone.”
This surprised her as much as his advice to sell her home. “Gone? I was sure Father’s partner was still running it.”
Giving a tsk the lawyer explained, “Your father had to sell his share to his partner under their contract when he was unable to carry his share of the load to run it. The money from the sale is what sustained you for the last year. With the cost of his burial the sum is nearly exhausted.”
After another pause, Mr. McKinley asked, “How old are you Miss Donaldson?”
When Kitty gasped at his question, he immediately apologized. “Forgive my impertinence, but I have a reason for asking.”
Uncomfortable with the question, Kitty frostily answered him. “I will be twenty-eight next month.” Then she waited for him to explain the reason for his odd question.
“You are still of an age to marry and have a family. I encourage you to do so quickly.”
Stunned at his idea, Kitty felt her mouth hang open. Jutting forward her chin, she challenged his suggestion, “Do you really believe it is such a simple thing to accomplish, sir? And just consider my deformity.”
He hurriedly explained, “My sister arranges such things for couples. She arranges for them to correspond before the woman travels to meet her groom.” Mr. McKinley nervously pulled at his right ear. “Such things have become so much more common since the war between the states. Widows left behind, you know, and fewer marriageable men. Though you aren’t a widow, you could benefit too.”
Here he paused as gazed at her as if trying to see past the netting that covered her face. “Perhaps you’d raise your veil.” He left the half-question hanging in the air. Kitty raised a trembling hand and lifted the netting, waiting for a gasp or other reaction from him since the man had never seen her without the covering.
Tipping his head to the side, the lawyer put his hand to his chin and studied her. After a long moment he sighed. “I really don’t think it is an impossibility that you will find a husband, regardless of the mark. You’ve a lovely face and should see my sister.”
Picking up an envelope, he handed it across the desk to her. “Her address and business flyer are in this. Now if you will sign the papers, I will begin the probate of the house. That will give you a month to consider what I’ve advised in regards to selling.”
Over the next few days, Kitty pondered the lawyer’s advice. As she cleaned drawers and the armoire in her father’s bedroom, she became all that much more aware of her situation. Both of her parents were dead. She had no siblings and no relatives in the United States as both of her parents immigrated as adults to this country.
The quiet of the house pressed in on her. She had no one to chat with and nothing but the chiming of the parlor clock to break the oppressive silence.
Maybe I should get another dog? Even while she thought that, she cringed. When she was seven, her mother had brought home a small Spitz to keep Kitty company. She’d adored the little dog she named Tipper. But it too had died, soon after Kitty’s mother. She wasn’t sure she could bear giving her love to another creature only to have it die.
As she walked through her lifeless home, Kitty’s eyes were drawn to her small desk set in a corner of the front room. The envelope Mr. McKinley had given her lay waiting there. Perhaps she did need to contact his sister.
With that thought in mind, she took out a clean sheet of stationary and composed a letter to the woman asking for a day and time that would be convenient for the other woman so that Kitty might visit her. Steadying her hand to prevent it from betraying onto the paper how very nervous she was, she explained her reasons for seeking a mail-order marriage.
Opening the envelope given her by the lawyer, the anxious girl stared at the contact information a moment before addressing the envelope. Then it was quickly stamped and mailed. She’d made a decision for her future. For the first time in her life, she’d made a decision about herself for herself.
In less than a week, Kitty sat in Miss McKinley small parlor sipping tea while listening to the small bird-like woman chirp on about the matches she’d arranged. Kitty smiled and periodically nodded her head in response to the woman. Truthfully, the older woman was quite likeable and it was a pleasure to visit with another person after the quiet of her house.
What most impressed Kitty was Miss McKinley’s reaction to her face. Shortly after the matchmaker had welcomed her into her parlor, she had asked Kitty to raise her veil. With shaking hands, Kitty had hesitantly done so.
Not even a hint of revulsion had been evident on the woman’s face. Instead she smiled and hummed softly. “You have lovely eyes, my dear. And such luxurious hair. You are a lucky girl,” she’d said admir
ingly.
Kitty could only stare at her, mouth agape. How was this woman able to look past her birthmark? Then, she thanked her before ducking her head while drinking her tea.
“I believe I have a most blessed arrangement for you. Just a moment and I’ll retrieve the letter for you to consider.” At that the woman winged her way out of the room only to return in mere moments.
Whatever she sought must have been right at hand? A letter? The perfect groom for me? That seems impossible.
Setting her tea cup carefully and soundlessly on the piecrust table nearby, Kitty took the offered sheet of stationary. Immediately she noted the monogram on the thick cream paper—the letter K along with the image of a cat. Considering her name, no wonder Miss McKinley believed this might be the perfect match for me.
That woman began an explanation so Kitty forced her attention away from the letter and back to her hostess. “Of course, there was another letter. An inquiry regarding my services and such. That one isn’t important to you.” Here her thin lips took on an almost teasing smile as she leaned forward. “You only need to read this letter to know this is the match for you.”
Since that was just what Kitty wanted to do, she nodded her head before bending it over the paper she held.
My Dear Lady,
As you are reading this, I feel sure that Miss McKinley has selected you as a potential wife for me. That being the case, let me be completely honest with you. I am a man confined to the shadows.
By that I mean that I have suffered an accident to my face which keeps me away from most people. In fact, I rarely see anyone other than my servants, my mother, and a close friend. With such a small circle of people around me, I hope you can imagine my loneliness.
Because of that loneliness, I am trusting Miss McKinley to find a wife who is both understanding and content to live in the shadows with me. I need a wife who will not shy away from a touch by my scarred hands. Perhaps, might you be that wife?
I assure you that I can provide a comfortable, if isolated, life for you and any family we may have. Beyond that, I will make no other promises and hope that will be enough for you to consider joining me at my home in Wisconsin.
Most sincerely yours,
Kit Randolph
As intrigued as she had been by the letter, his name shocked her. Was the similarity in their first names merely coincidence or was this a heaven-ordained match as Miss McKinley hinted? Kitty didn’t think long over it before lifting her head to change her life by saying, “I will marry him.”
The woman then told her something that reverberated inside Kitty’s head for a long time afterward. She had inclined her head to Kitty and with a grave voice said, “I think there are two verses you need to consider. They’re Psalm 34, verses 4 and 5. ‘I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked unto him and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed.’ Please consider those words.” The kind woman reached out and laid a palm on Kitty’s marked cheek. “Trust the Lord and don’t be ashamed of your face.”
A flurry of preparations followed that day. Kitty and Kit began a correspondence that allowed her to grow more comfortable with the idea of marrying him. At first, he seemed to want to discourage her from joining him, emphasizing the loneliness she could expect. Then his letters changed, asking things about her and demonstrating his interest in her.
Her home sold quickly after the decision to put it on the market, and Kitty packed the items which she specified to the new owners she would keep. Her mother’s desk, the china and silver, paintings and photographs, as well as the hall tree would travel on the train with her.
Finally, the day before her departure, Kitty hired a carriage and made her way to the cemetery. Alone in front of her parents’ headstones, Kitty removed her hat and the protective netting that shielded her from the world’s taunts. The light autumn breeze that tickled her face held a hint of the ocean. Kitty breathed it in wistfully, knowing that the breezes in Wisconsin would lack the tang of the Atlantic.
With loving care, she planted a mum between her parents’ grave markers. Though another person might speak to her dead parents and explain the decision for her life that she’d made, Kitty thought that was ridiculous. Her parents had trusted their souls to the Lord and certainly couldn’t hear her from heaven. So, she hummed a favorite hymn as she worked to be sure the graves were tidy.
Suddenly a sad thought made her stop her humming. The only things she had to say goodbye to were these graves. She had no friends to visit. Her mother had allowed Kitty to hide much of her life, even schooling her at home rather than exposing her to taunts at school. The emptiness of her life wouldn’t change when she went to live in the shadows with her husband.
Finished with the graves, Kitty looked for the caretaker, deciding to meet him without covering her face. She remembered the verse about not being ashamed about her face. When she did find the man, he hardly glanced at her and Kitty silently thanked the Lord for honoring his promise that she wouldn’t feel ashamed. She asked the man to water the mum well for the next three days so that it would root itself and thrive. This done, she drove the carriage back to her home, only to find the man from the livery on her doorstep waiting to collect it as well as an employee from the depot wanting to load the furniture and any trunks she planned to ship the next day. Too late to consider escaping a future filled with shadows.
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About Marisa
Marisa Masterson and her husband of thirty years reside in Saginaw, Michigan. They have two grown children, one son-in-law, a very new granddaughter, and one old and lazy dog.
She is a retired high school English teacher and oversaw a high school writing center in partnership with the local university. In addition, she is a National Writing Project fellow.
Focusing on her home state of Wisconsin, she writes sweet historical romance. Growing up, she loved hearing stories about her family pioneering in that state. Those stories, in part, are what inspired her to begin writing.
Find her on Facebook, in the Chat Sip and Read Community, Sweet Wild West Reads, or on her Facebook page.
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A Snowy Delivery for Christmas
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
The book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. All rights are reserved with the exceptions of quotes used in reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.
A Snowy Delivery for Christmas ©2019 Marisa Masterson
Cover Design by Erin Dameron-Hill https://www.edhprofessionals.com/
Editing by Amy Petrowich
1st Ed.
A Snowy Delivery for Christmas (Ornamental Match Maker Series Book 21) Page 8