Dear Mr. Stone (Mail-Order Bride Ink Book 11)

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Dear Mr. Stone (Mail-Order Bride Ink Book 11) Page 15

by Kit Morgan


  “Yes, but confusing. He feels as strongly as I do.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  “Well, you’ve heard of people that fall in love so hard and fast they can’t think? What if …”

  “Stop it right now.” Katie held up her hand. “You always do this. You take something and you overthink it until you can’t tell which way is up.”

  Beryl sat in the nearest chair. “You’re right; that’s what I’m doing. It’s just that when his parents showed up at the café, I could tell Ephraim was shocked.”

  “Was it a surprise visit?” Katie asked and returned to the stove.

  “For him, it was.” Beryl made a face. “They received a telegram from your father.”

  Katie spun to her. “What?”

  Beryl nodded. “He said that as a concerned parent, they should know their son was getting married.”

  Katie’s jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me!”

  Beryl shook her head. “So I suspect he sent my parents a telegram as well, though who knows when they’ll receive it? He probably sent it to father’s office in Baltimore.”

  “I wonder if Papa has mentioned anything to Ephraim about your family?”

  Beryl jumped to her feet. “My goodness! I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Katie poured them each a cup of coffee, then brought the cookie jar to the table. “Maybe you’re worried for nothing. Ephraim is obviously attracted to you, has strong feelings for you, is courting you. Really, I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “I don’t know, maybe it’s because my father has …” Beryl’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, no.”

  Katie’s eyebrows shot up. “What is it?”

  “My father has rejected every suitor’s request for my hand.”

  “That’s right. No one’s been able to get near you.”

  “Exactly. Other than meeting some of these gentlemen at balls and parties, everyone’s had to go through Father. I haven’t had to worry about any of them.”

  “It’s very common for a family of your wealth to handle things that way. Still, your father will be vexed when he finds out what you’ve done.”

  “I know. Oh, heavens, why am I just thinking about this now?”

  “You don’t think he’ll tell you no, do you?”

  “Regarding Ephraim? He can hardly say no when he’s not here.”

  “Then you’re doing the same thing I did – running off without telling your parents …”

  “I am, aren’t I?” Beryl shook her head and smiled. “This has turned out to be quite the adventure, hasn’t it?”

  “Only you haven’t been abducted,” Katie said. “I think I’ve still had far more adventure so far.”

  Beryl left her chair and hugged her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

  “You weren’t. I just think it’s funny the way things have turned out. We’re both from very well-to-do families, we both wind up in this little town as mail-order brides with grooms who didn’t order us in the first place.” Katie smiled. “And now we get to live happily ever after – if our families don’t prevent it.”

  “And all because of a Mad Matchmaker. I wonder who it is?”

  Katie shrugged. “I don’t care at this point. I want to live my new life with my new husband and start a family.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Beryl said. “Jace is a good man. You’re very lucky.”

  “Yes. I just need to convince my father of it.”

  “Has Jace spoken with him?”

  “He went to the hotel earlier today. I’m sure he has by now.”

  “Oh, dear,” Beryl gasped. “Do you want me to stay for a time?”

  “Maybe a little while. Then I have to go to work.”

  “I could bring Ephraim’s parents by the bookshop later?”

  Katie smiled. “That would be nice. I’d love to meet your future in-laws.”

  Beryl laughed. “One step at a time. I just want to get to know Ephraim in peace. Between your father, his parents and everything else going on, it hasn’t been easy.”

  Katie nodded sagely. “I’m sorry Papa has been so difficult.”

  “I know. I just don’t want your relationship with him to suffer.”

  “Neither do I,” Katie said softly, then picked up her cup.

  Beryl did the same and sipped her coffee. Her time in Independence was still riddled with problems, but she was glad she was here. She had her best friend sitting next to her and a handsome man who felt as passionately about her as she did him. Really, when it came down to it, what did she have to worry about?

  Well, aside from everything going wrong.

  It didn’t take long for word to get around town that Doc Stone’s parents had arrived for a visit. Beryl didn’t know if Katie’s parents knew, but they would – Mayor and Mercy Vander did, which meant that within a day, everyone would. And to think she’d thought of starting a newspaper here. Not that it needed the one it already had. Not with the Vanders around.

  Currently, Beryl was sitting in the Vanders’ parlor across from Mrs. Stone, who was engaged in animated conversation with Mahulda Brock, one of Mercy’s friends. Martha Tindle and Maude Smythe, other matriarchs of the town, were also present.

  “And this Mad Matchmaker we’ve had to put up with for years,” Mrs. Brock huffed. “Why, the very idea. You’d think whoever keeps sending off for mail-order brides would have it out of their system by now.”

  “One would think,” Mrs. Stone agreed and sipped her tea.

  “But tell us, dear,” Mercy said. “Didn’t I hear you were a mail-order bride too?”

  “Yes, from England. I was sent to Clear Creek by my cousin the Duke of Stantham.”

  The matriarchs’ eyes widened. “Duke?” they said in unison.

  Beryl had already heard the story while having dinner at the café with Ephraim and his parents the night before. It seemed Clear Creek was full of surprises.

  “Indeed. He sent me, my two sisters and three other cousins over as brides.”

  “My goodness,” Mrs. Smythe said. “Was there a shortage of men in England?”

  Mrs. Stone took a sudden interest in her teacup. “Something like that. But tell me more about this Mad Matchmaker my son was a victim of. What sort of spineless person would do such a thing?”

  Mrs. Brock almost spilled her tea. “Spineless?”

  “Of course. Only a weak-minded fool would commit such an act.”

  “Fool?” Mrs. Brock quickly cleared her throat. “Personally, I think they were quite clever the way they went about it.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Mercy said. “And everything worked out each time. Why, our own son was a victim.”

  “As was my son Morgan,” Mrs. Tindle remarked with a smile. “My victim.”

  “Yes, you sent off for a bride, didn’t tell Morgan, and look what it started!” added Mrs. Smythe. “That’s how my son Julian became a victim.”

  Mrs. Stone gasped. “How awful! Well, I’m happy things worked out for each of your children, but what about mine?”

  Beryl took a quick breath.

  “No offense, dear,” Mrs. Stone said. “But still, sending off for a mail-order bride in someone else’s name is a hideous thing to do.”

  Mrs. Brock’s face was a mask. “Perhaps the matchmaker was simply trying to bring more love and happiness to our fair little town.”

  Mrs. Stone glanced her way, her teacup poised near her lips. “One does not bring love and happiness by sending people into shock. To be frank, I think your matchmaker is an idiot.”

  Mrs. Brock narrowed her eyes.

  “Now, now, Mahulda,” Mercy said. “She’s not insulting the town.”

  “She’s quite right,” Mrs. Stone clarified. “I’m insulting the matchmaker.”

  Mrs. Brock looked ready to explode.

  “What’s done is done,” Beryl said, hoping to break the mounting tension. “I’m here because of this Mad Matchmaker, Ephraim and I are courting,
and as Mrs. Brock pointed out, our relationship is turning out just as well as the others.”

  “Are you married yet?” Mrs. Stone asked pointedly.

  “No, but we are courting.” Beryl took a sip of tea. Last night she managed to skirt the issue of her family and origins. Instead she kept asking Ephraim and his parents about Clear Creek. She wasn’t sure how long she could get away with that today.

  “Well, the last mail-order brides that came to town might’ve had a rough time of it,” Mercy said. “But all turned out well.”

  “Yes, Ephraim told us about the poor girl that married your grandson,” Mrs. Stone said. “He also told us about another woman – what was her name, Beryl?”

  Beryl started, surprised Mrs. Stone used her Christian name. She was also surprised at the warmth growing in her chest. “Priscilla, I believe.”

  “Oh, you mean Priscilla Holbrook,” Mrs. Tindle said. “She’s recently returned to Portland. Poor thing. I hope she finds a husband there.”

  “So there’s one it didn’t work out for,” Mrs. Stone pointed out.

  “Priscilla Holbrook was never a mail-order bride. That poor woman will be lucky to find a husband anywhere,” Mrs. Smythe said.

  “Now, now, ladies, we mustn’t gossip,” said Mercy.

  “Mm-hmm,” Betsy said as she entered the parlor with a fresh pot of tea. “That’ll be the day.” She began to pour everyone a cup.

  Beryl did her best not to laugh as Ephraim’s mother gaped at the maid. She didn’t know Betsy yet, nor the other ladies in the room. But in the short time Beryl had been in Independence, she knew enough. It was a good thing Mayor Vander wasn’t there. He could gossip up a storm.

  “Have you decided on a date yet, dear?” Mercy asked her.

  “No, Mrs. Vander,” Beryl said. “We are still courting.”

  “Oh, that’s right, so you are,” Mercy said. “I’d forgotten already.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Betsy left the parlor.

  “I say,” said Mrs. Stone, “but is she always like that?”

  “Who, Betsy?” Mercy asked.

  “She certainly is!” Mrs. Brock said. “Insubordinate servants. I’ve been telling Mercy for years to fire that woman. But does she listen to me?”

  “Of course I don’t,” Mercy said. “If I ever did fire Betsy, you’d be the first to hire her.”

  “I would,” Mrs. Brock admitted. “She’s a fine cook.”

  Ephraim’s mother listened to the older ladies’ banter with raised eyebrows. She glanced at Beryl. “I dare say, but are they always like this?”

  “From what I’ve seen, yes.”

  Mrs. Stone returned her attention to her tea.

  “Oh, Mrs. Stone?” Mercy said.

  “Hmm?”

  “We hear that one of your relations purchased an automobile. Is that true?”

  “Yes, my cousins the Cookes. They ride about the countryside in it and check on their cattle. Silly men.”

  The women exchanged curious looks. “How does that work for them?” Mrs. Tindle asked.

  “Not very well. The thing makes such a horrible racket, it smells bad, and it spooks the cattle. They’ve stampeded their own herds twice now.”

  Beryl covered her mouth. She wondered how many people had written her parents and told them about this yet. Besides Bertram Haverdash broadcasting it all over the landscape, Father and Mother kept in regular contact with several residents from Clear Creek, including some of Mother’s relatives that had moved to the area.

  “Oh, Miss Branson?” Mercy said.

  “Yes?” She took a quick sip of tea. Her mind was drifting and she had to stop it.

  “Have you spoken with Pastor Luke and Winnie yet?”

  She sighed. Mrs. Vander had to be at least eighty, was hard of hearing and had a bad memory. She must have told her three times already that she hadn’t. “Of course not. Not while we’re still courting.”

  “How lovely. You must let us help with the wedding, dear.”

  Mrs. Stone’s head snapped round to her. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “How delightful!” Mercy said. “We’ll all help.”

  Mrs. Stone’s eyes popped wide. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my son’s wedding.”

  Beryl stared at her. “We aren’t even engaged yet. For Heaven’s sake, let us court first.”

  Mrs. Stone waved her off. “Whatever for? I can see in your eyes that you’re mad about him.”

  Mercy and Mrs. Tindle giggled. “Isn’t young love beautiful?” Mrs. Tindle gushed.

  “I remember when my Julian fell in love with Ellie,” said Mrs. Smythe. “It was divine to watch.”

  “I wish I could have seen my Eva fall in love,” Mrs. Brock said. “But as she ran off to Oregon City, that didn’t happen.”

  And on it went. The four older women kept repeating themselves and asking the same questions. By the time tea was over, Mrs. Stone and Beryl were both exasperated. They walked to the front gate together, reached it and sighed in relief. “Tell me, my dear,” Ephraim’s mother said, “but have you suffered through tea with these women before?”

  “I’d hardly call it suffering, ma’am. They’re old.” Beryl shrugged.

  Mrs. Stone sighed again. “I suppose I’m not as used to this sort of thing as I once was. We have some very old folks in Clear Creek, and I have to admit they’re much the same. But we do love them so.”

  Beryl smiled. “Just as everyone in town loves the women in that house. They all mean well, you can’t fault them for that.”

  “No, I suppose not.” They went through the gate and began walking back toward Main Street. “Didn’t you want to show me the bookshop?”

  “Oh, yes – I’m sorry we didn’t have time to go yesterday.” Katie’s parents had shown up none too happy after their visit with Jace, especially when Katie told them she didn’t have time to talk because she had to get to the bookshop to work. Beryl had yet to find out what happened.

  “Beryl?”

  She smiled. That was the second time Ephraim’s mother used her Christian name. Was she warming to her? “Yes?”

  “Where are you from?”

  Her stomach clenched. There was no way to avoid the question this time. “I was staying in Denver when I became a mail-order bride.”

  “Yes, you’ve told us that much. But where are you from?”

  Well, she thought she’d give it a try. Beryl sighed. “Baltimore.”

  “Baltimore?” Mrs. Stone stopped, confused. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to the Bransons of Baltimore? I believe they own a railroad and quite a few other things.”

  Beryl swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  “Really? A distant cousin perhaps?”

  Beryl winced. There was no hope for it now. “No, ma’am.”

  “First cousin? But wait, as I recall Mr. Branson was an only child …”

  She heaved a sighed. “Mrs. Stone, C.J. Branson is my father.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mrs. Stone gasped. “What? You’re C.J. and Rufi’s daughter?!” Good grief, was she going to faint? “For the love of Heaven, why didn’t you tell us?” She took Beryl by the shoulders. “Does Ephraim know?”

  Beryl shook her head. “Shhh, please, Mrs. Stone. No, he doesn’t know. And I’d rather he didn’t just yet.”

  “Why in Heaven’s name not?”

  “Because I want your son to fall in love with me, not what comes along with marrying me. Like … well, so many others.”

  Mrs. Stone stared at her with raised eyebrows. “I see. Yes, that’s understandable.” She put her hand over her heart and took a few deep breaths. “My goodness, the shock of it.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. But I’m glad you understand why.”

  She lowered her hand. “Has he professed his love for you?”

  “Yes … and no.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that our relationship
has been very different than what we expected.”

  Her eyebrows rose again. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing, just … not what we expected.”

  “Good heavens, child, what did you expect?”

  Beryl shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love before.”

  Mrs. Stone pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and fanned herself with it. “I need to sit down.”

  Beryl pointed at the large gazebo in the center of the park. “Over there.”

  They headed for it and sat. “Well, I must say this is a bit of news,” Mrs. Stone said.

  Beryl smiled weakly. “I imagine it is. But please, don’t say anything to Ephraim.”

  Mrs. Stone sighed. “My dear, sweet girl, I’ll not say a word. I completely understand.”

  “You do?” Beryl said in shock.

  “Oh, yes. When my sisters and I and our cousins, came to Clear Creek to marry, it was because no one in England would have anything to do with us.”

  “What do you mean?” Beryl said in surprise.

  “It’s a long story, child. Suffice to say if someone tried to court us, let alone marry us, they’d meet with a horrible end. Or at the very least, wind up with broken bones. After a while, no man would come near us. We were staring spinsterhood in the face. Had it not been for Duncan Cooke, our cousin the duke, we would have grown old and alone together.”

  Beryl stared at her moment, trying to take it in. “Then you understand why I don’t want Ephraim to know who my family is yet?”

  “Of course, dear. And I’ll not sway his decision or yours. You should marry for love, not money or position nor any of that other rot.”

  Beryl sighed in relief. “Thank you, Mrs. Stone. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “On the contrary, I do.” To Beryl’s surprise, the woman hugged her.

  Beryl hugged her back. “Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome, my dear.” She drew away. “But I do want you to know I was serious about helping with the wedding.”

  Beryl grinned. “I would love that.”

  Mrs. Stone smiled back. “That’s good, because I’d help you whether you wanted me to or not.”

  They both laughed, left the gazebo and continued to the bookshop. They found Katie behind the counter, tears in her eyes. “Katie!” Beryl joined her. “What’s wrong?”

 

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