They had met back east, when they were waiting on the busy platform for their westbound train to arrive. Carolyn, always personable and friendly, had struck up a conversation with the women. By the time the steam train pulled into the station, the women had already forged the start of a friendship.
They sat together in the train carriage and the three of them exchanged stories—tales of hardship and struggle in their past, and the desperation and hopefulness that motivated them to look in the Matrimonial Times.
Josephine was a kindred spirit to Carolyn. She had also suffered through a marriage that ended in heartbreak, though it wasn’t death that claimed her husband prematurely. Rather, Josephine had lost her husband to adultery—he had left her for another woman. Josephine had nowhere to turn… Nowhere, but the Matrimonial Times.
Alice hadn’t been married before. She was young, bright-eyed, and optimistic. She was a pretty girl, albeit simple. Her mind was filled with romantic notions of her future in the west, and she was eager to be a young bride.
Over the course of their railroad journey west, the three women had also exchanged stories about the suitors awaiting them in California.
Josephine’s suitor was the town doctor, an older man who had dedicated his youth to the practice and profession of medicine, at the personal expense of finding a wife and starting a family. Though he was marrying later in life, he had every intention of bearing children, and Josephine was eager to grant him this wish.
Alice had been exchanging letters with a young ranch handler. He had sent a photograph of himself, and Alice blushed every time she flaunted it to her new friends. He was every bit as handsome as Alice was wonderful. And he was every bit as young, too.
After listening to the other women boast of their suitors, Carolyn felt almost more reluctant to share the story of her own. In truth, Bailey Thomas hadn’t given her much reason to boast. His letters weren’t brimming with stories of his accomplishments or skills, nor were they filled with self-praise.
That wasn’t to say that Bailey Thomas wasn’t accomplished, just that he was so humble about his accomplishments that they remained a mystery to Carolyn. Instead of boasting about himself, Bailey’s letters were filled with conversation. They talked about books, philosophy, politics, the war… Bailey was a man starved for conversation, and Carolyn fed his hunger.
Theirs wasn’t a relationship built on passion or promises, theirs was a relationship built on the solid grounds of friendship. When she had married Benjamin, Carolyn’s heart had been light with excitement and the flurry of youthful admiration. Those feelings were entirely different with Bailey. Bailey filled her heart with something more tangible than excitement, he made her feel content and safe.
But Carolyn would be dishonest with herself and with God if she didn’t admit that she was hoping for something more than friendship. Though Bailey had become a close friend through his letters, she hoped that when they finally met in person, they would find themselves bound by something deeper than conversation and friendship. She hoped that they would find love—true, exciting, passionate love. The kind of love that made her stomach flutter and her hands sweat. The kind of love that she knew existed, because she had felt it once before.
Carolyn didn’t dare admit any of this to her new friends. Instead, she fretted nervously over her appearance. She must have re-styled her hair a dozen times during the final leg of the train journey, alternating between a long braid and a tight bun before finally deciding to wear her long brown curls down around her neck.
She had dressed in a pale pink gown, the only remnant from her previous life that she had left. She had always loved this dress the most, and for that reason, she had refused to sell it.
Besides the small stain that had mysteriously appeared on the bodice, it was perfect. Carolyn had been told before that she was beautiful, but she had never quite believed it. She had never let herself feel beautiful. But today… today, she suspected that she might feel the closest thing to beautiful that she had ever felt. And that was partially due to the compliments of Josephine and Alice.
The train began to slow and a squeal came from the brakes clamping over the wheels.
“We have arrived!” Alice gasped, looking through the glass window of the carriage and spotting the train station ahead. Then, reading aloud from a sign painted over the platform, she said, “Welcome to Calico Junction.”
Carolyn’s heart skipped a beat in her chest. This was it. At long last, this was the moment she had been waiting, praying, and dreaming about. This was the moment she would finally meet Bailey Thomas.
Alice was the last to step out of the carriage and onto the platform. The thin desert air immediately wrapped around her, rustling the pink skirt of her dress and drying the anxious perspiration that had formed along the back of her neck.
As she made her way down the narrow platform, she noticed that Josephine and Alice had already found their respective suitors. Though Carolyn had intended to bid them farewell, she decided now to give them their privacy instead.
She continued down the platform, moving her eyes from face to face, wondering what Bailey Thomas looked like. He had never sent her a photograph, and when she had asked him to describe himself, he had very modestly replied, “Hopefully inoffensive and, if I’m optimistic, acceptable.”
At the time, she had written off the remark as a symptom of his humility and humor. Now, she wondered if he had been more serious than she initially thought. She pondered this as her eyes landed upon a rather rotund man dressed in denim overalls, and lacking the teeth to comprise a proper smile as he jeered at her.
She gulped, wondering if this could be Bailey.
And then, just as she began to wonder if this had all been a mistake, she spotted someone at the end of the platform.
He was dressed in leather chaps and a dirt-stained flannel shirt that was bunched up on the arms, revealing tight muscle and skin that had gone brown from toiling in the sun. His arms were crossed over a broad chest, and his legs were planted hip’s width apart. He wore a pair of worn-in leather boots, cut from the same hide as the cowboy hat he wore on his head, stained with sweat along the brim.
There was nothing about this man that indicated that he was Bailey Thomas, but Carolyn found herself struck by the sudden undeniable knowledge that that was exactly who he was.
The first thought to flit across her mind was that this man—rugged, dirt-stained, straight off the ranch—bore little resemblance to the man she had conjured in her imagination. From his letters, she had imagined someone delicate and refined, someone with a narrow build, smarmy dark eyes, and a wide head to encompass all of his intellect. After all, that’s what men who read literature and debated philosophy looked like in New York City.
But this man didn’t look like that. Not by a long shot. He certainly wasn’t the sort of man who would notice a stain on the bodice of her dress.
He was tall, towering over the station and casting a shadow so long that it nearly reached Carolyn from across the platform. He was rugged and tough. He worked hard, and the muscles in his arms and legs proved it. Carolyn knew that Bailey was a hard worker, but she hadn’t expected his stature to provide such a vivid testament to his work ethic.
Then the man looming ahead of her removed his hat and shook free his head of golden curls, streaked rusty red by the sun. She gazed up and found herself staring into the kindest set of eyes she had ever seen. It wasn’t just his eyes, it was the soft curve of his brow, the depressions in his cheeks, the upturn at the corners of his mouth…
And that’s what brought Carolyn to her second thought. This was the most handsome man she had ever seen in all her life.
FIVE
Alyssa Harvey had no doubt in her mind that Bailey Thomas was competent in the kitchen, but she had nevertheless insisted that she be the one to prepare a feast in celebration of Carolyn’s arrival.
After months of listening to the usually reserved Bailey chatter excitedly about his bride’s a
rrival, the Harveys felt that it was their duty to make sure that Carolyn’s transition to life out west went off without a hitch. They had never seen Bailey so excited and full of life, and they were just as eager and anxious to meet his bride as he was.
They were nervous, too. Not all mail-order-bride stories ended happily, and they had heard plenty of tales of heartache and woe. They prayed to the Lord that Carolyn was everything that Bailey hoped she was, that she was really the smart and cunning and clever woman he boasted she was, and that she wouldn’t be disappointed by the realities of life in Calico Junction.
Alyssa’s heart was racing as she reached into the oven and withdrew a tray of baked yeast rolls. The house had been filling with the fragrant aroma of baking bread all day, and she treated herself to a long inhale of the comforting smell before closing the oven and depositing the tray onto the stove top.
Supper would be ready soon, the only thing missing was the soon-to-be bride and groom. Bailey had gone to fetch her from the train station, and he was due back any time now…
And just then, the door of the house was thrown open and a hurried patter of footsteps bounded into the kitchen.
“They’re coming!” a little voice shouted. “They’re coming, they’re coming! I see them down the road!”
“Thank you, Bill,” Alyssa smiled down at her son, wrapping her arms around his shoulders affectionately. He was such an excitable young boy. She knew that Bailey admired Bill, and she recognized the sense of longing she saw in Bailey’s eyes whenever he saw the boy. Bailey had never said so himself, but Alyssa could tell that he wanted desperately to be a father. She prayed that Carolyn would make that dream come true.
“Wash up for supper,” Alyssa told Bill, shooing him out of the kitchen. Then, shouting after him, she added, “And fetch your father!”
“I’m already here,” Dale Harvey said, slipping into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around his young wife. He dropped a tender peck of greeting on her forehead.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“Everything is ready,” Alyssa said, checking on the roasted turkey that awaited them on the table. Then she added anxiously, “Do you think she’ll like us?”
“Us?” Dale repeated, smiling down at his wife. “I should think so. But it matters more that she likes Bailey.”
“That’s true,” Alyssa agreed.
She could hear the sound of horses approaching, and she knew that it would only be a few minutes now before Bailey and his bride were at their doorstep. Still, she forced herself to wait patiently, and she didn’t leave the kitchen until she heard the knock coming from the front door.
Bill reached the door first and threw it open.
“Mr. Thomas!” he cheered, gazing up admiringly at Bailey—his personal hero. Then he glanced at Carolyn, and added, “Mrs. Thomas!”
“Someone is eagerly awaiting your union,” Alyssa said, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder and pulling him away from the door. Then she glanced up and set her eyes upon Carolyn Mews.
Carolyn was a beautiful woman, dark curly hair worn loose over her shoulders, piercing eyes, delicate features. She had healthy curves and wore a dress that appeared expensive, a direct contrast to the chapped skin of her hands.
Bailey did mention something about her working as a cleaner, Alyssa recalled.
“Please, come in,” Dale ushered them into the house, and Alyssa stepped aside to make room as they crossed the threshold.
Bailey made introductions, and Alyssa and Dale both offered their warmest greetings to Carolyn. Then it was time for supper, and they crossed the house to take their places at the long wooden table in the dining room.
“This looks exquisite!” Carolyn remarked, admiring the spread of food on the table.
“That was all the doing of my wife,” Dale said admiringly. “Alyssa is an exceptional cook.”
“You mustn’t say such things,” Alyssa blushed, returning her husband’s loving gaze.
“It’s true!” Dale insisted. Then, to Carolyn, “She keeps us very well fed.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been treated to such a beautiful meal,” Carolyn admitted.
“Do you not cook?” Alyssa asked.
“Regretfully, I never learned,” Carolyn admitted. “I did beg our cook to teach me, but Mother always did her best to keep me far away from the kitchen.”
Alyssa swallowed uncomfortably. Suddenly the luxurious pink dress made a lot more sense. Carolyn obviously came from money. Growing up in the east, Alyssa’s family had always been poor. She had learned to be grateful for what she had, and simply having scraps of meat to cook for dinner felt like a luxury. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up with a cook, nor could she imagine being so well-to-do that she had been forbidden from learning how to cook for herself.
“Well,” Alyssa snipped, feeling suddenly irritated with the woman sitting at her dining table, “I do hope that our humble dinner meets your standards of excellence.”
“Oh, I—” Carolyn stammered awkwardly, realizing that she had made the other woman uncomfortable. “I’m in awe, truly!”
But no matter what Carolyn said, the damage had already been done. The rest of the meal passed in tense silence, punctuated by the occasional question or comment. Though the conversation was well-meaning, it only made more abundant the glaring disparities between Carolyn and her hosts.
When Dale mentioned that Bailey and Carolyn both enjoyed reading, Carolyn made the mistake of mentioning her time spent at finishing school.
When Bailey recounted his childhood spent working as a ranch hand, Carolyn countered it with a tale of private tutors who taught her how to play the piano.
When Alyssa mentioned the drought that had consumed Calico Junction and threatened the livelihood of all of those who inhabited it, Carolyn thoughtlessly posited that she was grateful to finally be free of the rainy springtime in New York City.
By the end of the meal, Alyssa’s optimism had been extinguished, replaced with the sour resignation that things had gone terribly wrong, and that they couldn’t have found a worse match for Bailey Thomas if they had deliberately tried.
She was a pampered woman born with a silver spoon and accustomed to a life of luxury and comfort, while he was a roughened-up cowboy who believed in working hard and making his own luck.
The only people in the room who didn’t seem to notice—or care—about the obvious incompatibility was the couple themselves. Despite every example of their mismatched personalities and backgrounds, Carolyn and Bailey appeared blindly enamored with one another. And that was something Alyssa couldn’t understand.
SIX
Carolyn Mews and Bailey Thomas were married within a month of her arrival in Calico Junction.
Their wedding was small, mostly attended by fellow ranchers and cowboys who, despite long encouraging Bailey to find himself a bride, were suddenly hesitant to entirely support his union to a woman accustomed to affluence and wealth in New York City.
The only guests in attendance that seemed truly happy and hopeful were Josephine and Alice. Unfortunately, witnessing the unshakable optimism of the fellow mail-order brides did little to quell the suspicions or doubts of the rest of the wedding guests.
Had it not been for the oblivious joy of the bride and groom, the wedding would have been an entirely gloomy affair.
But what the married couple lacked in support, they made up for tenfold in love and devotion to one another. In the short time that Carolyn had been in Calico Junction, she had become overwhelmingly certain that Bailey Thomas was the answer to all of her prayers. And in the short time that Bailey had known his bride, he had become acquainted with a love the likes of which he had never thought himself capable of.
And so, ignoring the whispers of naysayers, they were married.
Life for the newlyweds on Thomas Ranch was happy and simple.
Their first weeks together proved wrong all of Carolyn’s worries and fears. She had indeed
found a love with Bailey greater than any she had known before. It was more than love, and it was more than friendship. It was something that, upon finding it, she couldn’t fathom ever having lived without.
And by the twinkle in his eye, she knew he felt the same way about her.
Every day, there was a new detail about Carolyn that he discovered, something new to appreciate and admire. Like the first time that Carolyn fixed her hands over the white keys of the upright grand piano in the parlor. It had been years since she had played, but the rhythm of a song had already started itching through the joints of her fingers the moment she noticed the impressive instrument.
Bailey had inherited the piano from his parents. They had died when he was young, perishing in a terrible accident that had also claimed the life of his baby sister. The piano was a relic that he treasured in their memory. He had never learned to play the instrument, but he would often find comfort in its presence. On dreary days plagued by lonely silence, he would strike the keys and savor the sound that echoed through the parlor walls.
He hadn’t heard the voices of his mother or father in years, and the sound of that piano was the closest thing he had. Bailey would never admit it, but he found a serene sort of comfort from the sound of the keystrokes. He imagined the lower notes were the grumble of his father’s deep voice, and he imagined the keys at the opposite end of the piano—the high, twinkly notes—as his mother’s high-pitched, love-filled voice.
When Carolyn arrived and started playing the piano, she introduced a kind of music he had never heard before. In a strange way, hearing the songs that she played on the piano made Bailey feel all the more close to the memory of his parents. And at the same time, it made him feel closer to his bride.
She may have come from a different background, but her willingness to adapt more than made up for it. And her propensity to love filled the void left in Bailey’s heart, and he couldn’t imagine how he had wasted so many years of his life not knowing love, not knowing Carolyn. He couldn’t imagine ever going back to those days.
New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set Page 12