A Fresh Start for Christmas

by Kimberly Grist

  “Don’t envy you.” John-Mark pushed his hat to the back of his head and glanced toward the gray wooden structure trimmed in white. “I’ll see you back at the livery.”

  Mike lifted the crate packed with flour, sugar and spices and meandered onto the L-shaped porch he’d helped his father repair the previous year. The front windows were open to take advantage of the soft breeze of the spring day. He admired the decorative screens with wrought iron his sister had designed.

  He balanced the crate with one arm and reached for the front door when it opened to the smiling face of his mother. Several locks of silver-streaked auburn hair framed her face, and her green eyes sparkled. Yep, he was in trouble, no doubt about it.

  “It’s about time you got here.” Two dimples appeared, complementing her round cheeks. She opened the door wide and waved him inside. “Come on back to the kitchen. I have an apple cake ready.”

  “You made my favorite and it’s not my birthday?” The sweet aroma of butter, vanilla and sugar greeted him. Mike followed his mother through the dining room past the table already set with her formal dinnerware. “Company coming?”

  “Your sister Maggie, her husband B.J., along with your brother John-Mark and his family are joining us tonight.” His mother glanced over her shoulder. “Why are you scowling?”

  “Didn’t know I was.” Mike avoided his mother’s gaze. He placed the supplies on her worktable loaded with an assortment of baked goods cooling on pans. “You made cookies too?”

  “I was in the mood to bake. Have a seat. I’ll pour us some coffee.”

  Mike reached for a sugar cookie, another favorite, and took a bite. He closed his eyes, savoring the sweetness, then eyed his mother suspiciously. His mouth twitched at the sight of her bustling around the stove. Tennessee Montgomery was a loving mother yet found it difficult to cut the apron strings when it came to her adult children. Yep, she’s getting ready to spring something big.

  She placed a large slice of cake on plates for each of them and poured the coffee.

  “All right, Mama. Pa said you wanted to talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

  “You are exactly like your father, abrupt and to the point.” She added cream to her cup. “What if I just want to spend time with my oldest son, who happens to have a birthday coming up?”

  “In two months.” Mike took a sip of the rich brew. “Besides, I’m home for dinner almost every night.”

  “True.” His mother patted his arm. “You’ve been busy helping John-Mark fix up his place. And since you’ve bought the house next door, you’re in and out so quickly we don’t get a chance to talk.”

  Mike took a bite of cake. “I’ll probably regret asking this. What do you want to discuss?”

  “I’m happy you asked.” His mother pulled a letter from her apron pocket. “You remember me telling you about my friend, Maude?”

  “I don’t believe a month goes by without you mentioning either a memory of her or some news from her letters.” Mike’s eyebrows narrowed. “Isn’t she the one you stole Pa from?”

  “Your father was a passing flirtation. She ended up marrying a land developer and moved to Memphis.” Tennessee’s green eyes sparkled. “She oversees an orphanage there.”

  Mike leaned back in his chair. “You and Pa figuring on fostering some of her children?”

  “No, the thought didn’t cross my mind.” His mother placed a finger on her cheek. “What a wonderful idea, though.”

  “I’m sure Pa will have something to say to me about it later,” Mike huffed.

  “Don’t be silly. Whose idea was it for us to adopt your sister? Your father has a big heart.” Her mother wagged her finger. “And you do too.”

  “Ma, you know I need to get back to work, right?” Mike pulled on his collar.

  “It’s been five years since the last time we talked about this, son. And I’ve left you alone because you asked me to. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t press the issue one more time.” His mother’s eyes grew misty. “Lottie would want you to be happy.”

  “She would.” Mike cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Ma.”

  “I’d like you to consider marrying again.”

  Mike scowled and motioned toward the letter. “You haven’t sent off for a mail-order bride for me, have you?”

  “Don’t be silly. I would never answer an ad on your behalf and wouldn’t encourage you to respond to one either.” She smoothed out the paper. “Still, I’d like you to hear me out. My friend Maude and several pastors have established a matchmaking service. There are many godly young women back east who would make excellent wives. However, most of the eligible men are living here in the west.”

  “If I ever decide to marry again, and that’s a big if, I’m capable of finding someone without enlisting help from a matchmaker.” Mike shuffled his feet across the wood floor.

  His mother raised one eyebrow. “If there were eligible young women in town, what you say might be true.”

  Mike stared at his cup, then returned his mother’s gaze. “You seriously want me to enlist the help of a matchmaking service?”

  “Yes, and why not? It’s perfect. All I’m asking you to do is to fill out a questionnaire and write a letter. Then wait and see what happens.”

  “Write a letter? To whom exactly?”

  “There are several to choose from.” His mother flashed a smile. “I have a few recommended to me from Maude. I’d want you to choose yourself. Although I admit I have a favorite.”

  Mike rubbed the back of his neck. Should have known better. This is beyond anything I could imagine. Sure sounds like a mail-order bride to me.

  Chapter 4

  “Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  The evening sun neared the horizon and cast a soft glow of light through the bay windows in the Montgomery family’s large dining room. Eleven ladder-back chairs crowded around the table filled with family members enjoying assorted desserts prepared by Mike’s mother earlier in the day.

  “It’s nice to have a full table again. We’ll have to do this more often.” Mike’s mother reached for Father’s hand and squeezed it.

  His father, the town blacksmith, winked at his wife, then kissed her fingers. “Not full enough by your standards, though, is it?”

  “There’s always room for more.” His mother’s eyes were misty as she glanced between her youngest daughter, Maggie, to his younger brothers, Moses, Matthew, John-Mark and Malachi. “Besides, I still have another leaf I can add to the table.”

  Andrew, the eight-year-old brother of his new sister-in-law, Carol, waved a cookie toward a vacant chair in the corner. “Is that one going to be for Uncle Mike’s new wife?”

  Mike stiffened and stared into the wide-eyed faces of his family. His brother-in-law, Dr. Benton, choked and coughed into his napkin. Andrew’s younger sister, Annie, pointed. “Somebody needs to hit him on his back.”

  Mike glared at his mother. “I haven’t agreed with our mother’s new scheme. If she’s led you to believe otherwise, she is mistaken.”

  Maggie patted her husband’s back. Her chin dropped to her chest. “This is my fault, brother. I found the letter on the table and asked Mama about it. I didn’t realize it was a secret.” She rose from her chair and hugged his neck. “I’m sorry.”

  Mike sighed. The moment Maggie entered their home at the age of four, she’d immediately wrapped them all around her tiny finger. “You’re forgiven, brat. I admit it’s hard to keep a secret around here for long.” He took a drink of iced tea before glaring at each of his siblings. “Let me go on record as saying I haven’t agreed to anything.”

  Annie clapped her hands. “If you do order a wife, Uncle Mike, can you get one with kids? Then we’ll have cousins to play with.”

  “Make sure she knows how to cook good.” Andrew cast a sideways glance at his sister. “If she needs help, you’d best get your ma to show her.”

 
Mike’s shoulders shook with laughter as his sister-in-law’s face pinkened at the subtle reference to her culinary skills. “I’ll keep all of your suggestions in mind. I’m not convinced I should pick anyone.”

  “If you weren’t figuring on marrying again, why’d you buy the big house next to John-Mark’s?” Matthew’s dark eyes studied him. “Mighty big house for a single man.”

  “Even though it needs a lot of work, it was too good a deal to pass up.” Mike pulled on his ear. “I thought it would be a good way to advertise our carpenter skills as well. When people see the improvements we’ve made, they’re bound to think of us when they need work done.”

  “I like the tower at the top. It looks like a room for a princess.” Annie nodded happily and took a bite of cookie. Her legs swung back and forth under the table. “What about a princess? Or some lady with long hair like Rapunzel?”

  “Annie, enough now.” Carol placed her finger to her lips.

  Mike chuckled. “She’s fine, Carol.”

  He winked at Annie. “I tell you what. I’ll be on the lookout for a princess or any other fair maiden who might find herself trapped in a tower. And if I find one, I’ll be sure and rescue her.”

  Annie placed her hand over her mouth and giggled.

  “The way I see things, it’s a wonderful opportunity to meet a young woman who could make you happy.” His mother nodded. “Whoever God has in mind will be fine with me.”

  Maggie’s husband, B.J., leaned forward. “Tell me more about the agency, Mrs. Montgomery. Friends of yours from Tennessee are starting a matchmaking service?”

  “Yes. There are still many young women back east who would like families of their own. They all come with excellent recommendations from friends, family and pastors.”

  “I’ve already picked my favorite and Mama has too.” Maggie flashed a smile. “And though our decisions were influenced by different personality traits, we both chose the same one.”

  Dr. Benton’s eyes darted between his wife and mother-in-law. “Did your mother tell you ahead of time who she was partial to?”

  “No.” Maggie rested her hand on her neck. “I have the most wonderful idea. Let’s all pick our favorite. What do you think, Mike?”

  “It makes no difference to me.” Mike shrugged. “I’m not convinced I should do anything at all.”

  Moses reached for the paper. “If Mike’s not interested, let me have a look. We order things all the time from a catalog, so why not a wife?” He flipped through the papers. “Before I choose, I’d want to see her likeness.”

  “Who’s to say she couldn’t send a tintype of someone else?” The youngest brother, Malachi, chuckled.

  “There’s more to picking a wife than outward appearance,” Carol interjected.

  “Yep. Make sure she’s a good cook, right, Andrew?” Malachi elbowed the young boy who grinned at the jest.

  “The list has detailed information about each one and includes their ages, hobbies, and even their favorite books. There are questions to answer.” Moses reached in his vest pocket for a pencil. “What’s your favorite book, Mike?”

  “Hard to narrow to one. Maybe Moby Dick.”

  “We can’t mark that down for your response.” Moses scowled. “If you want to get a girl, you’ve got to pick something like Pride and Prejudice or pretend you like Shakespeare.”

  “It’s just a conversation starter. Everyone is different, and Moby Dick is an excellent choice.” Maggie nodded toward Mike.

  “I’m a girl and I like ‘Thumbelina,’ ‘The Princess and the Pea,’” and A Christmas Carol.” Annie smiled, displaying two missing teeth.

  Mike chuckled. “Maybe Annie should fill out the questionnaire for me.”

  Annie squealed and ran over to Moses’s chair. “What’s the next question?”

  Moses ran his finger along the paper while Annie read out loud. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Chartreuse.” Mike waggled his eyebrows.

  “What?” Moses huffed. “Be serious.”

  “All right, orange.” Mike chuckled.

  “Nobody likes orange as a favorite color.” Malachi and Moses said simultaneously.

  “What’s the next question?” Mike glanced at his mother’s pinched lips.

  “What is your biggest fear?” Annie read slowly.

  “Wondering what my mother might be up to next.” Mike stared at the ceiling. His father coughed to disguise a laugh, which caused everyone to dissolve into varying degrees of mirth.

  Moses wiped his eyes, then cleared his throat. “What do you prefer to do in your spare time? Do you have any hobbies?”

  “I know the answer to this one.” Annie clapped. “Uncle Mike plays the banjo when he’s happy and the violin when he’s sad.”

  Mike let out a ragged breath. Annie reminded him of his sister, Maggie when she was small. They both seemed to have the ability to see the depths of his soul, no matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings.

  Annie appeared by his side. “When you play the Jesus music at church, is that a hobby?”

  Mike nodded and patted the young girl’s back. Blond hair surrounded her wide, blue eyes and dark eyelashes.

  “Those songs are beautiful.”

  Maggie retrieved the letter from her brother. “Which one of the women on the list did you like, Moses?”

  “They all seemed fine. I’d want to see a picture before I make a decision.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, forget about yourself for a moment. Did you see anyone Mike might want to correspond with?” Maggie huffed.

  John-Mark reached for the paper and held it between him and his wife.

  “Now you mention it, there was one who played the piano and liked to draw. She’d probably do for Mike. Hopefully, she didn’t mean drawing flies.” Moses tossed his head back and laughed.

  “Will you please be serious?” Maggie shook her head. “These women have wonderful attributes. I would love to correspond with a few myself.”

  Mike’s brother placed his finger on the letter and whispered to his wife, who nodded in agreement. “There’s a teacher who seems nice. She’s about my age, which puts her in the category of spinster.”

  “Just what I need, an old -maid teacher.” Mike rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 5

  “A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love,

  from love to matrimony in a moment.”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  “Let me have a look at the list.” Twenty-two-year-old Daisy Leah Murphy pulled the paper from Memphis’s grasp and made herself comfortable on the cot. Her friend and co-teacher waved her arm around the small attic room they shared with two other women. “And don’t tell me the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do is teach. We’ve known each other for a long time. I know where your true interests reside.”

  Memphis ran her fingers along the bed covering made from worn-out clothing. A skilled seamstress, she’d taught the older girls to use their creativity to repurpose what was available. The results were colorful, crazy quilt designs that provided warmth and beauty. Her eyes wandered toward the partially completed upholstered chair in the corner.

  “Not only sewing, let’s not forget how much you enjoy cooking,” Daisy said. “You’d make a wonderful wife and mother. And I will too.” Daisy tapped the papers. “Which is why I’m not going to let you waste the opportunity. You and I will pick someone from this list and write them. If they respond and we like what they say, we’ll repeat the process. If not, we’ll move on to the next person.”

  Memphis glanced toward the open window. The late afternoon sun illuminated dust particles, floating toward the angled walls and attic ceiling. “I wish I felt as confident as you do. I don’t want to make a mistake, leave the only home I’ve ever known and tie myself with a man I don’t know or like.”

  “Which is the whole point of corresponding, isn’t it?” Daisy wagged her finger. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not holding
on to a romantic fantasy. Instead, I’ll think about this scientifically. The candidates are recommended by people we trust; thus, we will assume they are men of faith and character. Our next step is to become familiar with the men ourselves. Since the distance between them and us is wide, we must do the next best thing.”

  “I see the value in what you’re saying.” Memphis drew a long breath. “Before my mother passed away, my dream was to get married and have a family of my own. Even though I enjoy teaching, I do prefer sewing and cooking. I once thought I’d like to become a dressmaker.”

  “You have, in a way. The way you take other people’s castoffs and create clothes for all of us, including the little girls, is nothing short of miraculous. Wasn’t there a mercantile owner on the list? Imagine having access to yards and yards of fabric.” Daisy took the paper and held it between them. “I see you made marks on several of the men in Carrie Town, Texas.”

  “The idea of going to a new state where I don’t know a living soul is overwhelming. Even though I’ve never met her, I’m comforted by the fact Mrs. Shelby’s friend lives there. Her presence makes me feel a kinship to the town.” Memphis offered a half-smile. “My reasoning must seem silly.”

  “Excellent thought.” Daisy squinted at the paper. “There are six listed in close proximity. Maybe there’s someone of interest for both of us. Have you chosen anyone in particular?”

  “There is one man I feel comfortable enough to write to. He’s a widower with no children and owns the livery stable with his brothers. He enjoys woodworking and is a musician who plays the banjo and violin.” Memphis felt heat rise from her neck to the roots of her hair. “What if I write and he doesn’t respond?”

  “Then he’s not the one for you.” Daisy gave a cheeky grin.

  “You make this sound so easy.” Memphis scrunched her face.

  “Nothing worth having is easy. You and I’ve been through enough together to know.” Daisy lightly elbowed Memphis. “Help me pick out someone to write to.”