by Barbara Goss
“You’ll have to excuse the bumpy ride. Most days I went to meet the train with our buggy but today I had to get supplies,” he said loudly to be heard over the noise of the wagon.
“It’s okay,” Fiona yelled back, glancing at the boxes bouncing in the back of the wagon.
Before the wagon had even come to a complete stop, a slim but tough-looking woman wearing an apron ran out to greet them.
She grabbed Fiona none to gently and said, “Welcome home, Jane.”
Fiona rolled her eyes as the woman, who she supposed was Sam’s mother, hugged her.
“She isn’t Jane,” Sam snapped without emotion.
“What?” the woman said, letting go of Fiona.
“It’s a long story,” Fiona said.
“Well, come on in and tell us all about it,” Mrs. Jordan said.
Fiona followed the woman into the house. Sam followed along with her bag. They walked from the side door into a large, homey, quaint kitchen. Fresh bread was standing out on the table, and a pie was cooling on the windowsill.
Another man walked into the kitchen.
“This is my oldest son, Martin,” Mrs. Jordan said. “Martin, this here’s…well, I don’t rightly know, but she isn’t Jane.”
Martin gave her a raised eyebrows look, and Fiona had to admit, the brothers certainly were handsome. Though Mrs. Jordan was middle-aged, she looked as if she might have been lovely years ago. Her light brown hair was tinted with a few gray hairs here and there. Despite her small size, she looked tough and perfectly able to handle two grown men with little trouble.
“I’ll explain,” Fiona said. “Can we sit somewhere and be comfortable? It’s a rather long story.”
Chapter 3
The sitting room was large but cozy, with a stone fireplace on one wall, and an overstuffed sofa and two armchairs on the other walls. A painting of a serene landscape hung over the fireplace.
Fiona took a seat on the sofa. Mrs. Jordan sat Sam next to her by nudging him, and seated herself on the far end. Martin sat in the armchair.
“My name is Fiona Sullivan, and I met Sam’s Jane on the train. I needed to escape the city and decided to head aimlessly west. Jane changed her mind about getting married when we reached Topeka, and she decided to stay there.” Once again, Fiona crossed her fingers, hiding them beneath the folds of her skirt.
“Don’t you have a family, dear?” Mrs. Jordan asked as if shocked by a young woman who would be traveling aimlessly on her own.
“I’m an orphan and was reared in a Catholic orphanage.”
“Oh,” Adelaide Jordan said sadly. “How unfortunate. Well, pay it no mind. You’ll do perfectly well. Sam will marry you. I mean, what’s the difference? It wasn’t like he knew Jane either.”
“Mother—” Martin started to say, but his mother cut him off.
“Martin! I thought you were scheduled to visit George Crawley’s sick child.”
Martin studied his mother for several moments, gazed briefly at Fiona, and then excused himself. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Sullivan,” he said before leaving the room, slamming the front door behind him when he left the house.
“Martin’s a minister and has to pay calls nearly every day. You’ll have to excuse him; he’s totally against anyone marrying that isn’t already in love,” Adelaide said. “He married the love of his life, but she died of pneumonia a year later, and he’s never quite gotten over it.”
“How long ago did she die?” Fiona asked.
“It’s been a little over two years,” Adelaide said. “There were no children.”
“I have to admit, Mrs. Jordan, I’m also against marrying someone I don’t love.”
“You can call me Addie. My real name’s Adelaide, but I never could figure out why my parents saddled me with that name. Your name is pretty. It’s Irish, isn’t it?”
“Yes. My parents were Irish,” Fiona said.
“That must be where you got that beautiful red hair,” Addie said, touching her hair lightly. It’s lovely.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said with a blush.
“Now, about that loving stuff: that will come later. What people feel before marriage that they think is love is merely infatuation. Love comes later, trust me. Sam will be a good husband. I’ve given him three hundred acres of land, and he’s already started to build a home on it. He raises cattle and makes a decent living. You’d do well by him, and we’d all be one happy family.”
“I really don’t—” Fiona tried to say, but Addie cut her off once again.
“No need to answer now,” Addie said. “Come, I’ll show you to your room.”
Fiona followed Addie up the stairs, and Sam, who’d remained silent the whole time, followed with her valise.
Once tucked into bed, Fiona was too tired to contemplate the situation in which she found herself and fell asleep almost immediately.
In the morning, after putting on one of the drab dresses she'd brought with her from the orphanage, she ate breakfast with Addie and Sam. Addie had made hotcakes and sausage, and Fiona ate like a lady even though she was famished and felt like stuffing it all into her mouth and swallowing without chewing. She managed restraint thanks to the nuns who had taught her manners.
“How did you sleep, dear?” Addie asked.
“Very well, thank you.” Fiona wondered why Sam was being so quiet. He hadn't spoken a word since he'd brought her home.
“Where’s Martin?” Fiona asked, disappointed he wasn’t there.
“He went to the church,” Addie said. “He counsels people, writes his sermons, and such. He’s an early riser. He swims at dawn and then goes about his business. He says it refreshes him.”
“Sam,” Addie said, turning to him, “why don’t you show Fiona around the ranch after breakfast?”
“If she wants to, I will,” Sam said lifelessly.
“I really need to catch a train,” Fiona said.
“To where?” Addie asked. “I thought you had no destination.”
“Further west, I guess.”
“Hogwash! You’ll stay here with us for a while, and maybe Sam will have some suggestions about where you could go next,” Addie said. She turned to Sam. “Right, Sam?”
Sam sighed. “Sure.”
Fiona got the feeling that Sam wasn’t disappointed she didn’t want to marry him. Why, he even seemed relieved. Perhaps he didn’t like her looks. She knew she wasn’t a raving beauty, but she also knew she'd turned heads when she'd walked down the streets of Boston, so she couldn’t be too hard on the eyes.
“I’ll stay today, as I'm quite travel-worn, and I could use a rest. I’ve been on the go for weeks,” Fiona said. “I’ll leave tomorrow, for sure.”
“Sam,” Addie ordered, “get the wagon hitched up so you can give Fiona that tour of the ranch.”
Sam gave his mother an exasperated look and pushed away from the table. He nodded to Fiona and escorted her outside.
She sat upon the wagon bench beside Sam and watched him nudge the horses forward. “Do you ride?” he asked.
“Goodness, no. There were no horses at the orphanage.”
“I could teach you,” he offered.
“Oh, I don’t know—”
“If you’re going to make your home in the west, you need to know how to ride.”
“I guess you’re right. Okay, can you teach me in a day?” she asked, squinting up at him, the sun in her eyes.
“I can get you going good enough, I guess.” Sam stopped the wagon and pointed. “Those are our cattle.”
“Oh, my,” Fiona said. “All of them?”
“Yep. Half of them will go with me when I marry…or so my mother promised.”
Sam pointed to a creek. “They get water from the creek. We fish there, too.”
When the tour of the ranch was over, Sam led Fiona to the porch. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m going to see if Ma has any of my old trousers you can wear.”
Fiona gasped. “Trousers?”
&
nbsp; “You'll need them to ride. All of the women out here wear them.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “All right, then…I guess.”
Addie came out moments later with a pair of trousers and a shirt. “I found Sam’s old clothes in the attic. C’mon in and I’ll help you change.”
The pants fit perfectly after Addie had quickly basted the legs to shorten them. The plaid shirt fit well, too, after the sleeves had been rolled up.
“My, you look great!” Addie said. “Wait till Sam sees you.”
On her way out to meet Sam, she passed Martin on his way into the house.
He nodded. “Miss Fiona.”
“Good morning, Martin,” she said. She noticed his eyes widen at the sight of her in Sam’s old clothes and felt self-conscious in them; she must look a sight.
Sam’s eyes widened at her, too, and she sighed.
“Let’s get started,” Sam said.
Fiona eyed the huge horse Sam was leading toward her. “Don’t you have a smaller horse?” she asked.
“This is a regular-sized horse. We have bigger ones, but none smaller.” Sam laughed a bit. “You’ll be fine.”
The horse snorted. Fiona let out a muffled scream and jumped back.
“It’s okay. He just wants to greet you,” Sam said. He gave another chuckle. “He won’t bite or anything. Here, pet his nose and talk to him.”
Fiona petted his nose gingerly. “Nice boy," she said, "Please don’t snort—it isn’t polite.”
Sam grinned. “Let me show you how to mount a horse.”
At the end of many grueling attempts, and about two hours of trying, Fiona was finally trotting slowly around the yard on the horse.
“Good. Keep going,” Sam prodded.
Fiona felt proud of herself. She also found herself enjoying her ride. It felt so exhilarating to have accomplished so much in one morning.
“All right," Sam said. "Bring him back. That’s enough for one day. I have some things to do in town.”
Addie came to the kitchen door and yelled, “How’s Fiona doing?”
Sam turned to answer her while Fiona slid off the horse. She hadn’t anticipated how high up she was, and when she came down, she turned her right ankle and fell to the ground.
Sam ran to her to help her up. “Are you all right? I was going to help you down,” he said.
“I’m fine,” Fiona mumbled. She turned to walk toward the house and nearly fell again. Sam caught her by the shoulders.
“You’re hurt,” Sam said. “Is it your foot?”
“My ankle. I can’t put any weight on it.”
“Carry her in, Sam!” Addie yelled. “Martin! Fetch Doc Sommers!”
“It’s nothing,” Fiona told Doc Sommers after he'd arrived. “I just twisted my ankle a bit.”
The doctor turned her foot every which way while she cringed at the pain. When he was done, he stepped back and said, “It’s not broken, but it’s going to be colorful for a while. It’s a sprain. You'll need to stay off of it for at least two weeks, and then we’ll see.”
“I was planning on catching a train tomorrow,” she said.
“That would be impossible. You can’t possibly walk on it,” the doctor said. “I’m going to bandage it up tightly so you won’t forget and twist or jar it.”
Fiona wondered if this was fate. Was she meant to stay there longer? She knew one thing, she didn’t want to marry someone she didn’t love, and she was glad she’d made that clear.
She looked up to see Addie, Sam, and Martin, all standing in the doorway.
“She’ll stay right here in bed, and we’ll nurse her back to health,” Addie said. “I’ll take good care of her, Doc.”
Fiona sighed. “Thank you.”
Martin shook his head at his brother. “So, Sam, what will you do now?”
“Nothing. The woman said she didn’t want to marry me, so I’m free.” Sam shrugged. “It’s Ma that’s pushing me at her. She’s the one who signed me up for a mail order bride in the first place. I’m happy as a lark with the woman I already have.”
“You wrote the letters to her, didn’t you?” Martin asked.
“Yes, I did…with Ma standing behind me telling me what to write.”
“So, you’d rather marry the saloon woman than the sweet, beautiful, woman in the bedroom with a sprained ankle?”
“Abby didn’t choose to work in a saloon. She ran away from home when her own father physically abused her, and she couldn’t get a job anywhere else. I asked her to marry me, but Ma just won’t allow it.” Sam scratched his head. “Got any Bible verses you could throw at Mother to make her kinder toward Abby?”
“No, but I have one for you,” Martin said with a sigh. “'Thou shalt honor thy mother and thy father.'”
Sam shrugged. “Why don’t you marry Fiona?”
“I've already had one love of my life,” Martin said. “I doubt I’ll ever be blessed like that again.”
“You could get a mail order bride—”
“Never,” Martin said. “I’ll be happy without a wife if that’s my lot in life. I’ve learned to accept what God gives me and be thankful for it.”
Addie Jordan came up behind Sam and grabbed his arm. “Now, you go right into that girl’s room and get to know her. Read to her, or something. I’m sure she’d fall for you if you’d be a bit more charming.”
“Ma, she isn’t interested, and frankly, neither am I,” Sam said.
“What?” Addie exclaimed. “Are you blind? She’s absolutely gorgeous! She’s mighty sweet, too.”
“How many times do I have to tell you: my heart is elsewhere.” Sam sighed deeply. “Get used to it, Ma. I’m going to marry Abby.”
“Over my dead body! She’s a saloon woman and won’t set a foot in this house.”
“Ma,” Martin said, “not all saloon women are—”
“And you, Martin, a man of God! You should know what happens in saloons, those houses of inequity. I can’t believe you’d condone your brother's marrying a harlot.” Addie stormed off toward the kitchen while both brothers shrugged.
Chapter 4
Sam often sat by Fiona’s bed, but she could tell he really didn’t want to be there. Though he filled the chair, his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. He never said much besides small talk and Fiona wondered why he bothered to visit her at all.
“You don’t have to stay with me, Sam,” Fiona finally said. “I know you must have a million things you could be doing.”
“I do have to move the cattle to a new grazing field,” he said. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “I feel like taking a nap anyway.”
Sam stood. “I’ll come back later and see how you’re doing.” He walked to the door.
“It wasn’t your fault, Sam,” Fiona said. “I should have waited for help before getting off the horse.”
“Thank you, Fiona,” he said and left the room.
Fiona closed her eyes and slept for no more than a few minutes before Mrs. Jordan came in. “Where’s Sam?” she asked.
“He’s moving cattle or something.” Fiona wondered why she seemed so upset that he wasn’t with her.
Sam’s mother sighed. “He should be here, seeing to your needs.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Jordan, really.”
“Are you sure? Can I get you anything?” she asked smoothing the sheets on the bed for her.
“Do you have any books? I really would like to read a bit. I’m used to being a loner, and I don’t mind at all,” Fiona said.
“You poor dear,” Mrs. Jordan said. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Fiona was shocked when Martin came into her room, carrying a few books. “My mother said you’d like to read?”
“I love to read,” Fiona answered.
“She asked me to find something for you, since I’m the reader in the family,” he said, sitting down on the chair beside her bed. He handed her one of the books. “The Bible, the
most important book of all,” he said.
“Thank you. I often read the Bible at the orphanage…well, actually, it was required reading. My favorite Psalm is the twenty-fourth, and my favorite reading is the book of James.”
“Really?” Martin asked, seemingly surprised. “Most people like the twenty-third Psalm.”
“Oh, I like that one, too, but the twenty-fourth is my favorite.”
Fiona felt more connected and comfortable with Martin than with Sam. “What’s your favorite Psalm?”
“Twenty-third, but I’ll have to read twenty-four over again to see why you like it so much,” he said.
“I have another book for you Miss Fiona," he continued, "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. It's a great read and it might just lighten your day.”
Fiona caressed the book he’d just handed her. “I love books. I’m so grateful you’ve brought them.”
“Ah, but I have one more that I know you’ll like. It's called Oliver Twist.”
“Oh! I’ve wanted to read that. A man on the train was reading it and I heard him tell the woman sitting beside him that it was the best book he’d ever read.” Fiona hugged the book. “I think I’ll start with this one—oh, I mean, after I read a bit of the Bible.”
Martin smiled. “May I suggest you read the Bible first thing in the morning, even before your feet touch the floor? I always do,” he said with animation. “You don’t have to read long, just long enough to set you on the path for the rest of the day. Then you can read the books of fiction. I know you’ll enjoy them.”
“I will. Thank you,” Fiona said.
“Do you mind if I check in now and then to see how you like them?”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Fiona answered. He left the room with a smile, and she was sad to see him go. She really liked Martin.
She opened up Oliver Twist and was lost in it for hours.
Addie knocked lightly on Fiona’s door.
