Mail Order Celeste

by Elissa Strati

She tilted her head down and looked at him through her lashes.

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  “All right,” he said, “I exaggerate. But not by that much.

  “I need someone in the office to take the orders and send them down to the mill and then accept payment when the order is fulfilled. I think if you ask the men around here they would agree you were needed, and not just because they would enjoy seeing you here.”

  “We are just talking about a job, are we not?” she queried.

  “For now,” he said, “for now I will make it just be about the job. That doesn't mean I won't keep trying to court you, but I will not tie the job to the courtship.”

  At that moment a large log started going through the sawmill and the scream of the saw started reverberating through her. Her eyes grew quite round.

  “You have to listen to that all day?”

  He looked chagrined.

  “Actually, although I am keeping the books in here for now, this really isn't the office; it has just been a convenience for me while I was trying to run everything. The business office is on the far side of the complex, near the road. While there is still a fair amount of noise from traffic, the sound of the mill is quite muffled by that distance.”

  “If you don't mind, I think I'd rather check it out first before accepting your job offer.”

  “You haven't even asked how much I'll pay you.”

  “As long as it is enough for me to have an establishment and plenty to eat for me and Samantha, I am really not too concerned.”

  “I thought you were a businesswoman,” he said.

  “I will give you the credit of my already understanding that you would never cheat someone deliberately. You made that clear when the first thing you told me was that you were not the author of the letters.”

  “I could not start out a marriage on a lie.”

  The Name Game

  He had taken to throwing names out at her, trying to guess what hers was.

  “I will even love you if it's Prudence or Penelope!” he said.

  “There's nothing wrong with the names Prudence or Penelope; they just don't happen to be mine.”

  “Well you may be a prudent woman, but you have too much fun in you to be a Prudence. Josephine, Juliet, Jennifer, Sabrina, Rachel, Antoinette.”

  “Do you actually know women with these names?”

  He grinned. “Most of them live here in town—I went to school with them.”

  “Then it is a good thing mine is not one of those names. I like to think of myself as unique.”

  He placed a finger upon his chin.

  “That would tend to rule out Agatha, Agnes, Mary, Charlotte, Sarah, Susan, and Serena.”

  “Stop, stop it, I'm none of those.” She was laughing so hard her sides were starting to hurt.

  “Agnes, Agatha, Agamemnon . . .”

  “You already used Agnes—and—Agatha,” she said.

  “And you remembered that?” he queried.

  “Of course!” He looked at her with new respect.

  “Kathryn, Christopher . . .”

  “And Christopher is a boy's name!”

  “Well, I actually knew a girl named Christopher. She went by Chris and everyone thought it was for Christine, but she confided in me one day that her father had had her christened Christopher without bothering to find out her gender. She was a mighty pretty little thing.”

  She quirked an eyebrow.

  “Her paw decided it was too civilized around here and put them on a wagon train heading further west. He was an ornery old cuss but he actually took very good care of his family. He just didn't like people a whole lot.”

  They shared another laugh.

  “Oh, my Celestial Angel,” he sighed.

  She jumped, startled.

  “I've come close,” he crowed. “Angel, Angela, Angelica.”

  She laughed and shook her head.

  “Sorry, Charlie, but no!”

  “Please call me Chip! Charlie was the guy who gave me the dog I told you about.”

  “So you're as pleased with your uniqueness as I am,” she laughed at him. “You are, in fact, the only Chip I know.”

  More Counseling

  Pastor Joe had notified Father Francis of the arrival of “some of your flock” as mail-order brides and they had used the news as an excuse for a visit at the rectory where, over coffee and cigars, they had discussed matters religious and secular and agreed, as they’d each known they would, to work with the couples when, or if, they decided to move forward. They both had a good laugh at the confusion caused by the proxy letters.

  Chip had brought Celeste over to meet her new spiritual advisor and she’d had the counseling session Pastor Joe had mentioned, with Father Francis, after bringing him up to date on the various members of his rather large, and rapidly expanding, family.

  “And what do you think of my great nephew Pius Aloysius?” the good Father had wanted to know.

  “You know your mother insisted upon it.”

  “Yes,” he sighed, “for all the good it will do him. My brother Ignatius had to suffer under such a name, and look how he turned out!”

  “You mean Bridget’s Uncle Nate? His letters are passed around until they fall apart. What an adventurous life he’s leading!”

  “All because of his name! Mother meant him for the church.”

  Celeste nodded. “Yes, that’s why Pius is called Peanut. Although I think that might prove a harder name to live with! Chip had a dog named Peanut.”

  They moved on to more serious matters.

  “Since you are making the effort to talk to me about Chip, I am guessing you harbor some interest in his proposal.”

  “He seems to be quite a wonderful man, and he makes me laugh. For awhile I didn’t think I’d laugh again. I am rather recently widowed and were it not for my home situation, which I gather Pastor Joe has shared with you, I would still be quietly mourning for several more months. But now I find myself needing to find a job and lodgings so I can care for my daughter.”

  “And if you had no economic needs?”

  “I suspect society here is not so different with regard to mourning a loved one. My instinct would be to wait, and recover fully from my loss, before embarking on another adventure. In fact that is my primary concern. Am I attracted to Chip for himself or only because he represents security?”

  “You sound quite mature and clear thinking. I cannot suggest what path you should take, my child, as that is a matter for your heart. And you must also consider your daughter.”

  Celeste grinned up at him. “Leaving me exactly where I started.”

  Father Francis laughed. “I am always here for you any time you wish to talk. You are already aware of the complete commitment required by marriage. I believe you will make a wise decision.”

  CHAPTER 8 – Green River

  Cards on the Table

  A particularly bad pothole jounced Celeste out of her brief reverie.

  “There is so much to talk about, but I think we should start with the reason you have traveled west, to marry your fiancé. Let me tell you what I found out when I arrived,” Celeste began, too anxious to fill her sister in to wait for the promised tea.

  “In a nutshell, the man you were writing to as Charles Patrick Hardwick, who prefers to be known as ‘Chip,’” he grinned at her as she nodded toward him, “was, in fact, the one on whose behalf the original letters were sent. However, after the first letter he had nothing to do with the correspondence; the whole idea of finding a bride for Chip was his brother's, and Sylvester did all the writing. So you’ve actually been corresponding with Sylvester all this time.

  “They didn't know there were two of us and we didn't know there were two of them, because the subject simply never came up in your correspondence. You were too busy discussing shoes and ships and sealing wax to ask such mundane questions of each other. I didn't pay much attention, simply copying over whatever you wrote. And Chip didn't pay any attenti
on whatsoever as Sylvester was handling one hundred percent of the correspondence.

  “So technically, and on paper, you are engaged to Chip but, while there may never have been an intention of false pretenses, you have been corresponding with Sylvester and not Chip. It was Sylvester who sent the proposal, although he did it in Chip’s name.”

  “Celeste, I am thoroughly confused!” said Miranda. “Tell me again with whom I was actually corresponding?”

  “With Sylvester,” replied Celeste.

  Chip had broken into a huge grin. “Celeste. Celestial Celeste,” he murmured, remembering the word that had startled her.

  Sylvester, on the other hand, had rather a hangdog expression of guilt. “I am an attorney, for Heaven’s sake,” he said, “and it never occurred to me. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought I was acting on Chip’s behalf, in his best interest.”

  He reached over and grasped Miranda's hand.

  “My dear Miranda, because everything was not fully open and aboveboard, you are not bound by anything you wrote. You do not have to marry Chip. In fact, I actually wish you would marry me.”

  Pulling her hand free and raising it to her forehead, Miranda exclaimed, “You do understand my head is spinning!”

  Sylvester hung his head again. “I am so sorry,” he sighed, then raised his eyes.

  “When you have had a minute to think things over, I wish you will forgive me and give me a chance to woo you properly.”

  “Well,” she said dryly, “I gather you already have! It seems you’ve been the one wooing me all along.”

  A smile lit up his face. “Why so I have! Of course I have! If you are but one-tenth of the woman you have been in writing, I am fully enamored. And your sister tells me you wish to pass the bar. I certainly cannot speak for the state, but I would be pleased to have you join my practice. You have exhibited a very keen mind in your letters.”

  Miranda, who had been half in love with the man in the letters to begin with was now thoroughly enchanted with the reality. And a law firm would be a great deal more interesting for her than a sawmill.

  “But what of Chip? He was the one who needed a wife, or so the letters said.”

  Sylvester lowered his voice. “I think that issue has been resolved as well. Chip fell in love with your sister at first sight and even more so with her daughter.”

  Miranda glanced over at her sister who had thoughtfully provided privacy by starting to chat with Chip.

  “You were right,” Chip was saying. “Celeste is a unique and beautiful name, perfectly fitting for a unique and beautiful woman.”

  And he grinned again. “I knew I had come close.”

  He leaned his head close to hers. “It would seem your sister’s engagement has been resolved.”

  Miranda and Sylvester were rather mooning at each other with adorable smiles on their faces.

  “Well, she was planning to marry a stranger, but the one she'd fallen in love from his writing. I just hope he can deal with her snoring and she with his kicking.”

  “I do not snore,” called out Miranda.

  “How did you know I kick?” queried Sylvester.

  Celeste and Chip just started laughing

  “It was a jest,” giggled Celeste.

  Green River Church

  They had arrived at a large wooden church with adjoining parsonage. Celeste nodded reassuringly to Miranda’s questioning look, as the Richardson’s came out to greet them. Mrs. Richardson flung her arms around Miranda in greeting.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to see you made it here safely! When we heard the Krause Gang was stalking you we started praying!”

  Seeing the concerned look on Miranda’s face, Pastor Joe, as Celeste had finally come around to calling him, reassured her, “We offered prayers for law officers everywhere that they might be safe in the completion of their duties. We didn’t mention that a Lady Pinkerton was coming to Green River.”

  At that, Miranda laughed. “Oh, thank you so much for the prayers. They were in fact quite needed. But I assure you I’m no Pinkerton agent, nor agent of any kind. That tale was to protect my privacy when the porter and conductor, accompanied by the train’s Pinkerton agent, rescued me from a man who attempted a robbery in my train compartment.”

  By now the whole crew had been swept into the kitchen and Mrs. Richardson was setting out plates of sandwiches and glasses of lemonade. Celeste excused herself and escorted Miranda to the bedroom she’d been using. Despite the commotion Samantha was still asleep after her midday meal. Miranda slipped out to the outhouse and both ladies washed up using the pitcher and basin in the room, pouring the used water into the slop jar, before heading to rejoin the men, who had cleaned up at the pump outside the kitchen door.

  Miranda had grown increasingly more concerned.

  “We're not getting married now, are we?” she asked. “I had planned to spend tonight in a hotel and perhaps have a proper wedding since you are here with me, Celeste. I mean, since I have a chaperone I certainly don't need an immediate wedding.”

  “Well, unlike you sister dearest, I did not arrive with a chaperone nor did I have any money to hire a hotel room. So, as I mentioned, the pastor and his wife have been gracious enough to offer me a room for the last several days.”

  “Pastor?” queried Miranda. The word had floated by a few times but her thoughts had been otherwise engaged.

  “Fortunately, he and Father Flanagan, Bridget’s uncle, are the best of friends, so we will be able to work everything out,” replied Celeste as they rejoined the others.

  “Then you will agree to marry me.” shouted out Chip as he grabbed her around the waist and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “I'm still thinking about it,” she replied stiffly. And then she winked.

  Accommodations

  Pastor Joe was relieved that the mix-up was fully out in the open and no rancor nor animosity existed among the four young people. In fact, they all seemed to think it was rather a lark, especially since the situation had changed so drastically. As Miranda had suggested, the company of her sister precluded the necessity of an instant wedding for propriety and, as she explained to all, their father had funded the trip and strongly suggested allowing time for a proper courtship.

  Chip had made up his mind to marry and was somewhat champing at the bit, but when Celeste gently reminded him of how newly she’d been widowed, he relented. Once he’d loosened his mind from its yoke, he found himself agreeing that they would be cheating themselves if they did not allow themselves the pleasure of getting to know the ladies in smaller steps and indulge in the flirtation and romance he’d vaguely witnessed but mostly read about in books. He was, in fact, rather a fan of the romance novels, but had never thought of himself in terms of being one of the heroes. He rather relished the role.

  Sylvester, too, was looking forward to expanding his knowledge of his bride-to-be. Well, he hadn’t formally proposed again; and technically, since he’d been playing proxy, he hadn’t himself proposed the first time. But so he thought of her and intended to make it so.

  The Richardsons had insisted Miranda stay with them rather than at the “cold, impersonal hotel.”

  “I’ve already made ready your room!” she declared. “We knew there was no question of a wedding today and that you’d need a place to stay. And you are welcome to remain here as our guests indefinitely,” she added, including Celeste and Samantha in her invitation.

  Both sisters thanked her effusively and were honored when she asked them to call her Suellen. Celeste laughed and apologized.

  “Do you know, in the excitement of my arrival, we were never properly introduced; and we’ve made the same blunder today!”

  She curtsied to the exactly appropriate depth, saying “I am Celeste Marie Belden Clark; and this is my sister, Miranda Estelle Belden. It is such a pleasure to meet you, Suellen Richardson!”

  Miranda copied the curtsey and, laughing, Suellen responded with one of her own, dipping not quite as deeply, in
recognition both of her own status and her age, and mentally grimacing at the fact that her age included the lessening flexibility of her knees.

  “I’ve just now realized,” Suellen exclaimed mirthfully, “just what young Chip has been mumbling about. That is the first time I’ve actually heard your full name, and until this afternoon I never heard you addressed as other than Mrs. Clark!”

  “Well he was such a pest about my name, and everything else, especially at first, that it became a game to keep him in the dark,” grinned Celeste mischievously.

  “He’s always had high spirits, that boy!” And she proceeded to share the time he’d brought a frog to Sunday school.

  “He knew better than to try that prank at school with Mrs. Henderson. That woman is half my size and could topple every man jack in this town with just a look. If you’re lucky, she’ll still be teaching by the time your little darling, Samantha, is old enough to attend. She was already here teaching when Joe and I arrived, so I’m really not sure how old she is. But listen to me gossip.” Suellen shook her head. “And me the pastor’s wife!”

  Recognizing that after her long journey, Miranda must be exhausted, everyone agreed to an early night. Thanking their hosts once more, the girls retired to their rooms, which were on the far side of the house from the family bedrooms, on the other side of the kitchen.

  Revelations

  Despite her exhaustion, there was a bit more information Miranda wanted to share with her sister before turning in for the night.

  Celeste helped her unbutton her dress and loosen her stays. Miranda’s clothing had all been purchased with the knowledge she had a dresser to assist, so most of her garments fastened in the back. Not wishing to strain her husband’s budget as a newlywed, Celeste had arranged that her own trousseau consist of garments that fastened on the side or in front, so she could dress herself.

  Once she was in a wrapper, Miranda pulled a folder from her valise and handed Celeste the letter from their father.