Maddie Henson’s secret had a name, William Wiley. Actually, he preferred “Bill.” That’s what he had told her when he responded to her first letter.
He also told her about his late wife, Laura. She had been his angel, and it had been her dying wish that he would remarry so that their children wouldn’t grow up without a mother. Bill admitted that he had struggled to keep the promise he had made to Laura, but when he happened upon a copy of the Matrimonial Times, he had taken it as a sign from God that it was time to make good on his word.
Maddie’s heart had warmed when Bill wrote about his children, Bessie and William. Though Bill had struggled to fill a written page when talking about himself, he easily filled several pages detailing the strengths and characteristics of his children.
Bess and William were the only thing Bill spoke about with pride. He didn’t brag of himself or his accomplishments, nor did he boast of wealth or success. Maddie couldn’t tell if this was due to the man’s humility, or simply due to a lack of material things. Either way, she decided that it didn’t matter. Maddie had spent a lifetime around people who were rich in assets, but poor in substance. She had grown up in one of the wealthiest families on the east coast, but as far as she was concerned, she had never met a man with the wealth that Bill had. And she wasn’t talking about a wealth that was measured in gold bars or money, either.
Rather, Bill had a wealth that no man could steal, a wealth that was secured in his heart, rather than a bank. Bill’s wealth was his character, and every letter that he sent Maddie just confirmed that he was rich in the only thing that mattered—goodness.
So when Bill proposed that Maddie leave the conservatory and travel west to Livingston, Montana, to become his bride and become a mother to Bessie and William, she had readily accepted. She hadn’t bothered telling her parents. She knew that they wouldn’t understand.
Besides, it was time that she took control of her own life. It was time she made decisions for herself, and it was time that she learned the true meaning of free will.
And just like that, Maddie’s life of rules and obligations had been flooded with the hope and promise of escape. She had a secret, a secret that made every day feel easier than the last. Because every day that passed meant she was one day closer to making the journey out west, the journey to her new life and her new husband.
Her mind was made up, and all that was left to do was plan the details of her escape.
The conservatory would take a recess in December. That was when students would return home to their families. Maddie would board a train, too, but it wouldn’t be a train bound for Boston. Rather, it would be a train that would take her west, to Bill.
FOUR
December 7, 1883 | Livingston, Montana
When the Northern Pacific Railroad had opened its station in Livingston the winter prior, Bill Wiley had no idea that that the train would one day be responsible for delivering his future bride. But when Maddie Henson had accepted his proposition of marriage and requested that he make arrangements for her passage to Montana, he had raised his hands in a prayer of thanks to the Lord for imparting His divine wisdom on the folks who planned the railroad. If it hadn’t been for that train, he wasn’t sure how he would have gotten Maddie to Montana.
That wasn’t to say that purchasing the ticket had been a particularly easy feat. Bill had to sell off one of the piglets just to afford the ticket. It was a price he was willing to pay. If Maddie’s letters were any indication, she was an intelligent and kind woman… exactly the sort of woman that Laura would have wanted looking after the children.
Of course Bill still reserved judgment in his own heart. He had made the marriage proposal to honor his wife’s dying wish, but opening his home to a new bride didn’t mean that he was opening his heart to a new wife. His loyalty was still with Laura, and as far as he was concerned, there was no room for compromise.
Anyway, Bill knew that he should consider himself lucky for getting a bride at all. A month after he sold the piglet to purchase Maddie’s train ticket, illness had struck the Wiley farm yet again. This time, the illness targeted the pigpen. A fever broke out, infecting the entire litter. Bill did all he could, but it was no use, the drove was too weak, and they succumbed within days. After watching her young die, the sow seemed to lose any will she had left to live. Bill spent an entire night in the pigpen, trying to nurse her back to health, but come morning she was gone.
Bill had sunk every last penny he had into that pig and her litter. In an act of desperation, he had sold off one of his horses—a sleek, brown beauty that he had always secretly favored above the rest. The men in town were always reluctant to trade with Bill, but even they couldn’t turn up their nose at the quality steed. He had gotten a reasonable sum for the horse. It wasn’t enough to change his life, but it was enough to ensure that he could keep his children and new bride warm and fed throughout the winter.
Bill knew times would be tough for a while, but he was also hopeful. With a wife to hold down the house, he could try his luck in the mines. He had seen plenty of men strike it rich that way, and he hoped to join them. One lucky dig could change his life, and the life of his family. Bill didn’t like to rely on luck, but he was running out of options. The farm was failing, his pigs had died, and the men in town wanted nothing to do with him. If he didn’t make his own luck soon, he would have no choice but to return to the only job he had never failed at, being an outlaw. And he couldn’t do that. He’d rather starve.
***
Maddie Henson resisted the urge to press her nose against the frosted glass train window as the station came into view. She might have spent the last week being jostled from city to city and from state to state on a rickety train, but she hadn’t lost her decorum, at least not yet.
She straightened her back and inspected her garments, ensuring that they were still neatly pressed and free of stains. Maddie took first impressions quite seriously, and today she would be making the most important first impression of her life—she would be meeting the man she intended to marry.
The train screeched to a halt as it slid into the station, and all around her the cabin became abuzz with passengers rising from their seats and gathering their luggage.
“Pardon me,” Maddie said, eyeing an able-bodied young man who had easily hoisted a bulky suitcase from the storage rack overhead. “Do you think I could trouble you for a bit of help with my luggage?”
She smiled politely, and the man’s face lit up.
“Of course,” the man said. His accent was twangy and when he smiled, Maddie noticed that his two front teeth were missing. It was obvious they came from entirely different backgrounds, but he was no less capable of resisting her charms than the men back at the Boston station had been.
Maddie was a beautiful woman, and it wasn’t her own vanity that reinforced this fact, rather it was the influence she wielded over men. She often found that it took little more than a smile or a polite inquiry, and men would be bending over backwards to assist her.
“Where’s your bag?” the man asked.
She blushed sheepishly, then nodded her head to the tall stack of trunks that occupied the entire row of seats behind her. The man’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
“I don’t know if I can carry all of those,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well then that confirms it,” Maddie said glumly. “If a strong man like yourself can’t manage, I’d be a fool to think I stood a chance on my own.”
The challenge was too great for the man to resist, and he turned over his shoulder. “Hey, Sal, what ya say you help me lend this pretty lady a hand?”
Sal eagerly accepted, and when Maddie stepped off the train, the two men followed behind her, each hauling two giant trunks that had been weighed down with her possessions.
It wasn’t everything, of course. There was only so much that Maddie could pack, but she considered the contents of those trunks to be the absolute essentials.
M
addie navigated the platform with ease as the two men stumbled behind her. The station was much smaller than she was used to, and before she knew it, she had reached the entrance.
“Hey, where are we taking these, anyway?” one of the men behind her asked.
“I’m looking for my husband,” Maddie said, scanning the platform. “He’s meeting me here.”
Her eyes landed on a man standing just outside the station doors. He was the only man who appeared to be waiting, though his posture certainly didn’t seem consistent with an expectant groom eagerly anticipating the arrival of his bride.
That can’t be him! Maddie thought to herself as she pushed open the station door. The two men grumbled under their breath as they struggled to wedge the trunks through the door.
Outside, Maddie was able to get a better look at the man. He was tall and broad, and his face was buried behind a dense gray beard that made him appear at least ten years older than Bill Wiley was meant to be.
His clothes were shabby, and behind him was a rickety wooden cart.
Maddie felt her heart sink in her chest. Surely that can’t be him!
Then the man turned to her and he gave a slight nod, and her heart felt even heavier. It was him. That was the man she had traveled all those hundreds of miles to marry. And he was walking straight towards her…
“Miss Henson?” a gruff voice asked, his lips barely moving beneath the dense beard.
She gave a small nod.
“Bill Wiley,” he said, sticking out a hand. Maddie glanced down at it. This certainly wasn’t the greeting she had anticipated. Maybe she had spent too much time daydreaming on the train, but when she imagined meeting her husband for the first time, she had envisioned something a bit more… exciting? Or perhaps optimistic?
She took a deep breath and placed her limp hand in his, the way she had been taught to greet a man. But instead of lightly grasping her delicate fingers the way that a gentleman was meant to do, Bill clenched her palm firmly in his, nearly crushing her knuckles, and gave her wrist a firm and hearty shake. She gasped, nearly losing her footing from the force of the unexpected gesture.
“Well,” she huffed, taking a deep breath as she regained her composure. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Is that what you brought?” Bill asked, eyeing the trunks that the two men still struggled to hoist up behind her.
“I know it’s not much,” Maddie said, glancing back at the trunks. “But it was all I could manage to bring with me. I thought I could send for the rest, once I had gotten settled here and had a chance to explain everything to my parents. I know they’ll be upset, but—”
“The rest?” Bill repeated incredulously, interrupting her. “I reckon I’ll need to build you a separate storage shed just to hold all of these.”
Maddie swallowed, unsure of what to say. Then she quickly turned to the two men behind her. “Thank you, gentlemen, for being so kind.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” one of the men asked skeptically.
“Quite all right, thank you,” she assured him.
The men dropped the trunks and walked away, no doubt snickering to themselves over the awkwardly mismatched couple. Then Maddie turned back to Bill. Over his shoulder, she saw the shabby cart, and she wondered what the chances were of fitting her trunks into it.
He followed her eyes, then he spoke up, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can make it fit.”
Maddie was about to accept the words as a polite gesture, until she heard him mutter under his breath, “…although on second thought, it might be less of a hassle just to move the log cabin here.”
Her lips squeezed into a tight grimace, and for the first time, she wondered if her happy secret had just been one big mistake.
FIVE
“Oh, Miss Henson, this is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in my life!” Bess cooed as she lifted a silk dress from one of the large trunks.
“That dress came from Paris,” Maddie replied with a smile, appreciating the admiring glance of the young girl. Then she added, “And please, you don’t need to call me Miss Henson. I’d prefer it if you called me Maddie.”
Growing up, Maddie had always been told to refer to her nannies and tutors by their formal names—“Miss” or “Mrs.” She had always craved the familiarity of calling someone by their real name, and she wanted Bessie to feel that sense of familiarity now.
“Maddie,” the child cooed, an excited grin spreading across her rosy pink cheeks.
There was a soft knock on the door, and they both turned to see Bill standing in the doorframe.
“Pa!” Bessie squealed, standing up and running across the room to greet her father. Despite his burly appearance, his shoulders immediately crumpled when the little girl threw her arms around his waist, and he bowed down to scoop her up off of the floor.
“Miss Hens—I mean Maddie—has so many beautiful dresses!”
“I was wondering what she had filled all of those trunks with,” Bill said. His eyes flashed, and Maddie couldn’t discern whether it was amusement or annoyance.
“It’s not just dresses,” another voice interjected, and William’s head shot up from the spot on the floor where he’d been hiding behind one of the trunks. “There are loads of books, too!”
Then, for show, he hoisted an impressive stack of gold-spine classics.
This time, Bill’s face did seem to soften. But then he frowned and, in a stern voice, said, “Now listen here, you two. Don’t you be riflin’ through Miss Henson’s belongings.”
“They have my permission,” Maddie said quickly. “Besides, I brought the books for a reason, I thought that they might help with your lessons.”
“Pa! Is Miss Henson going to teach us our lessons now?” William asked eagerly, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.
“Perhaps,” Bill said sternly. “If you can mind your manners. Now go get ready for supper.”
The children scampered off, leaving Bill and Maddie alone.
“You seem to have made a good impression with Bessie and William,” Bill said thoughtfully. His mouth was hidden behind that dense beard, but Maddie detected a small twitch where his mouth ought to be, and she hoped that it was the hint of a smile.
“They are delightful children,” Maddie said. “Even better than how you described them in your letters.” Maddie had meant the words as a compliment, but Bill didn’t seem entirely sure what to say. So she added quickly, “You’ve raised them well.”
“That was my wife’s doing,” Bill said, his eyes falling to the floor. “Not my own.”
Maddie felt her heart grow a bit heavier in her chest, and her hands fumbled in her lap. There had been a few instances where Bill’s letters had given her the faint impression that he had never made peace with losing his wife, but now that she could see the darkness cloud over his eyes, she was almost certain that he still mourned the loss.
She couldn’t help but wonder what role she was meant to play. Was she here to be Bill Wiley’s wife? Or was she merely a nanny and tutor for his children?
“But they adore you,” Maddie protested finally. “The way they looked at you then, when you entered the room…”
“They’re children.” Bill shrugged. His eyes roamed the floor, inspecting the contents of her trunks.
“I always longed to be part of a family like this,” Maddie said, her voice suddenly soft.
“How could you want for anything?” Bill asked, his beard twitching again as he pointed to the silk dress that Bessie had left draped over the trunk. Maddie followed his gaze, staring down at the trunk full of dresses. Her father’s wealth had meant she never had to want for material things… but all of the silk dresses in the world weren’t enough to fill the emptiness in her heart that longed for the fulfillment of family.
She considered trying to explain herself—trying to make Bill understand—but before she could, he turned and walked towards the door.
“Come,” he said. “It’
s time for supper.”
Maddie sighed. She slipped the silk gown back into the trunk and closed it gently behind her, then she followed Bill towards the kitchen.
***
“A priori,” Maddie said, glancing up from the Latin primer that she held open in her lap.
“A priori,” William repeated with a thoughtful nod. Then, after a pause, he recited, “Meaning from before; a deduction reached through assumption rather than experience.”
“Very good,” Maddie nodded encouragingly. Though William’s definition hadn’t perfectly matched the terms written in the primer, she could appreciate the child’s eagerness to learn and understand. They had been practicing Latin for nearly a week, and already William had thrown himself into his study of the language.
“Can you give me an example of an a priori assumption?” she asked.
William’s face wrinkled with thought, but Bessie’s hand shot up eagerly.
“Yes, Bess?”
“You had an a priori about Pa,” Bessie offered proudly.
“An a priori assumption,” Maddie corrected her. Then she added quickly, “Why do you say that, Bess?”
The little girl shrugged, shaking the loose golden curls on her head. “Well,” she said, “when you saw Pa, you thought he was scrappy and rugged because of his beard and poor clothes.”
“Bess,” Maddie said gently, “I didn’t think your father was either of those things. In fact, I think very highly of your father.”
“Does that mean you’re not leaving?” Bess wondered out loud.
William’s eyes flashed to his younger sister. He was obviously horrified, but Bess was still too young to know better.
Maddie’s heart caught suddenly in her chest, and she forced her eyes away from the child’s blinking, innocent orbs.
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