Mail Order Emma

by Linda Baten Johnson

  Sam ruffled Eli’s hair. “Son, you’ll change your mind. Nothing more frustrating than a woman, nothing sweeter. I pray both of you end up happily married.”

  Joseph snorted. “Guess we should say the same prayer for you. Right now, you’re bunking at my homestead.”

  "Let's make some more nails. You're probably short of supplies after the house raising. And mark my words, Matilda will be calmed down and have a wonderful supper on the table when we return."

  Eli unlocked the door to the shop, and Joseph stoked the fire.

  “Who will be the next person needing a house raising or barn raising?” Joseph asked.

  “Probably the Starks. He’s been adding a child a year to the family, and the house hasn’t grown an inch. They need a bigger place,” Sam said.

  The men worked intently until they heard a banging on the door.

  “Joseph, you in here?”

  “Yep. What can I do for you?” Joseph saw the telegraph operator.

  “Not sure. You remember the day you got a telegram from Miss Emma York?”

  “Yes? What’s the question?” Was this man trying to ask about the woman and baby he’d brought to town?

  “Well, now I got a delivery for Miss Emma York. Figured you’d be the one to accept it.”

  “What kind of delivery?”

  “Reckon she’s about five feet tall and as saucy as they come. Says she came here to help Miss Emma York, so I’m handing her over to you.”

  The telegraph man stood aside and waved farewell.

  Joseph gave a low whistle. “Are you Trouble?”

  “Yes, I am!”

  Joseph stepped into the sunshine to get a better look. “How did you get here?”

  “Train. Can’t fly like a bird, can I?”

  Sam and Eli moved closer to the door to see the girl.

  “Did Miss York pay your fare?” Joseph wondered if Emma could have managed to get two ticket prices from the allotment he’d sent.

  “Nope. Sneaked on and hid out.”

  Eli grinned. “You are brave. You came all the way from Missouri to Texas by yourself?”

  “Had to. Miss Emma York is gonna need my help.”

  “You’re a runaway?” Eli’s question sounded full of admiration.

  “Not running away, running to. Think I got a future here in Goodly.”

  Joseph sank on the bench in front of the blacksmith shop and put his head in his hands. Dear God, all I wanted was a bride. What am I going to do?

  Chapter Seven

  “Look out the window, Emma. The men are coming back and they weren’t even gone an hour.” Matilda pulled back the gingham curtain.

  Emma gasped. “How did that girl get here?”

  Trouble’s shape resembled a pear, so Emma surmised all her belongings hung from her neck or waist in a crude bag.

  Sam opened the door. “Found a stray from the one o’clock train. Says she’s Miss York’s helper.”

  Emma saw the skepticism in Joseph’s eyes. “Mr. Walker, I did not ask her to come. Trouble, how did you get here?”

  Joseph slapped his hat on his thigh. “By cheating the railroad out of a fare.”

  “Didn’t cheat. Train was heading west with or without me. I didn’t eat anybody’s food or take anybody’s seat. Had to come.” Trouble stuck her chin forward, daring a man or woman to contradict her.

  “Joseph, what should we do?” Emma hoped to see sympathy in his face.

  Joseph lifted his hands toward the sky. “I don’t know. I feel like a twister came through and sucked up my life.”

  “That’s exactly how I felt when this girl knocked on my door a month ago. The life I knew disappeared. All I could do was take one step at a time. Faced and tackled one by one the tasks before me.”

  “I ain’t a task,” Trouble said.

  “One step at a time might work for you, but I like looking ahead and knowing where I’m going,” Joseph said.

  “Only God knows the future,” Emma opened her arms to welcome Trouble.

  “Well, I wish He wouldn’t be so mysterious. These events confuse me.” Joseph’s eyes twinkled and his lips curled up in a smile.

  Emma touched his arm. “Why don’t we go back to your homestead? We’ll figure something out together.”

  Joseph nodded. “Eli, you want to spend a week or two at my place?”

  “You bet!” He moved to Trouble’s side. “We’ll ride in the back of the wagon.”

  Trouble held out her thin arms for the chubby infant who leaned eagerly toward her. “I’ll hold him.”

  “I’ll be here when you’re ready for that wedding.” Sam put his arm around Matilda’s shoulder. “Marriage with a woman you love is one of God’s best blessings.”

  “Even if she’s impractical?” Matilda poked Sam gently in the side.

  “Yes. Impractical women spice up a man’s life. I always tell men to consider the useful traits and the feisty characteristics.”

  Matilda touched Sam’s chest. “Guess I’ll keep you, Sam Townsend.”

  Emma wondered what spurred Trouble’s trip to Texas. Had her parents really tried to force her into marriage, or was she a reckless spirit?

  Joseph hadn't reacted in outrage at Trouble’s arrival, or the girl’s claim to be Emma’s helper. He acted softer, gentler around his friends, the Townsends.

  The arrival of Trouble seemed to puzzle and upset Emma more than Joseph. She'd try again to meet his expectations for a bride while performing the duties of a mother, housekeeper, cook, and now big sister. And what should she do about Trouble? Should she stay in Texas instead of setting money aside for a return to Missouri? Emma had no personal reason to go back, except to escape from this flat prairie, but now she had two other people to consider if she returned—baby Amos and Trouble.

  “Let’s load up.” Joseph cupped her elbow for the walk to the wagon. “Neighbors stared when three of us came into town. Tongues will really wag when the five of us leave.”

  “People are the same in Missouri. When I worked in the mercantile, women and men showed up for unnecessary purchases and to learn the latest gossip.”

  Seated, Emma reached for Amos, fearful Trouble might toss the baby up to Eli while she climbed into the bed of the wagon.

  Joseph whistled to the team. “I can’t deal with this nonsense of people coming and going. I have to get back into the fields. Eli and I will have some dinner, then head out. Been neglecting my duties.”

  “I’ll take care of the garden, the chickens, and the house. Trouble might know how to milk. I know she’ll try to make herself necessary.”

  Joseph leaned toward Emma. “I think you should clean her up first. She smells pretty bad.”

  “I’ll wash her clothes and see if I can find something more suitable for her to wear than those overalls. I’d like to cut her hair, too.”

  “One step at a time, Emma York. I think I heard those words from you. Don’t overdo. You should let her do the walking for you until your ankle is better.” Joseph turned the wagon into the homestead.

  Trouble hopped down. “Purty grand place. Guess it’ll suit me.”

  Joseph grinned. “I’m working to improve it.”

  Trouble nodded. “I can see you need my help. I can cook if you’ve got fixings.”

  Emma watched each step as she made her way to the house. “I’m glad you’re eager to help, Trouble. Mr. Walker and Eli will eat before they leave, then we have a long list of chores.”

  “We should eat, too,” Trouble said.

  Emma glimpsed amusement in Joseph’s eyes and realized he admired the vagabond who’d appeared on the train. If Emma could understand this about Joseph, perhaps some bond was developing between them. Maybe instead of talking about themselves, they would do as the town gossips did—talk about others until they could address the issues they had.

  After lunch, Joseph and Eli headed to the fields, and Emma asked Trouble to bring in the washtub and buckets of water. Emma searched through her trunk for a
blouse and pinafore which might not swallow the girl’s small frame.

  “Trouble, since the men are gone, you can have a nice bath. I can wash and cut your hair if you’d like. My sister and I used to do that for each other. Do you have other clothes? I can wash your things with the diapers since we’re heating water. ”

  “I’m gonna get a tub to myself?”

  “Yes.” Emma held up the items she’d found in her trunk. “This is a short cover for my dresses, but it will reach the ground on you. You can wear this blouse underneath for today.”

  “Got my own clothes.” Trouble fingered the plaid blouse and the crisp white pinafore fabric.

  “I thought we’d wash yours. Start fresh. May I?” Emma held out her hand for the two bags Trouble had stashed under the overalls.

  “Won’t be long in the bath. You tell me what needs doing, and I’ll do it. You don’t walk too good.” Trouble stripped off and stepped in the tub.

  Emma handed her a washcloth and soap, without commenting about the bruises and scars on the girl's back. "I'll get my scissors if you want me to even up your hair. A couple of sections are longer than others."

  "Guess you could cut it if you don't have anything else to do." Trouble sank until her whole head was under the water.

  “Nothing I’d rather do. You’re a lovely young woman.” Emma soaped and rinsed the girl’s hair three times. “We’ll sit on the porch to cut your hair, then work.”

  Emma washed clothes while Trouble fed and entertained the baby. Then they tackled the chores, inside and out. Trouble milked the cows while Emma picked from the garden. She’d can this week to avoid waste from this bountiful plot and to provide food for winter. Would she still be here in December?

  She hadn’t unpacked her trunks. She’d take it one step at a time. Today’s task was to prove herself as a cook and housecleaner. She glanced around the room. She’d made cornbread to go with the vegetable soup and a blueberry pie for dessert. Warm water waited on the stove for Joseph and Eli as she went to the porch to watch the sun bid farewell. She shuddered at the sight. Nothing between her and the sun except rows and rows of cotton plants as far as she could see.

  Joseph sniffed as he entered. “Nice to walk into a house with the smell of food cooking. Most of my suppers have been cold milk and cornbread.”

  “You’ll still have cornbread, but it’s not cold. I’ll pour some water in the basin for you to wash up.” Emma started toward the stove, but Trouble cut in front of her.

  "I'll do it, Miss Emma." Trouble almost tripped on her long skirt. "Dress is a bother. Ain't never worn nothing but overalls."

  Joseph bowed slightly. “You look nice. The name Trouble doesn’t suit you. What’s your real name?”

  The girl looked at the floor, so Emma answered. “Her name is Mildred.”

  Eli wrinkled up his nose. “You’re not a Mildred. You should call yourself Millie.”

  Trouble nodded. “I could do Millie.”

  When they all sat around the table, Joseph bowed his head. “God, the numbers in this house are growing. Guide us all to make good decisions. Amen.”

  After dinner, they sat on the front porch and watched the stars come out. Trouble, now known as Millie, regaled Eli with tales of her adventure on the railroad.

  Emma moved her cane-bottomed chair closer to Joseph. “Girl’s back is scarred and badly bruised. Someone’s been beating her.”

  Joseph nodded. “I became desperate enough to head out on my own, figured she had a reason.”

  "Wanted you to know. By the way, do you have canning jars, Mr. Walker? Your garden needs harvesting and food put away for winter. Trouble and I thought we might start tomorrow unless you want us to work on the inside of the house," Emma said.

  “I think her name’s Millie, now,” Joseph said. “Canning jars are in the root cellar. That’s what I call it now, but it was my home when I first arrived. Lived in the dugout almost a year.”

  “In a hole in the ground?” Emma sucked in her breath.

  “Had to stay on the land to prove my claim. Started working on this house as soon as I could. You may see this as primitive, but it’s quite nice after living in a hole in the ground.”

  Emma detected a pride in his voice and reminded herself to tread lightly about suggesting any improvements—if they married.

  “What do you think about the prairie?” Joseph asked.

  Emma involuntarily shivered as she looked at the horizon. "The vastness here frightens me. I like trees, hills, and creeks."

  “Think you can learn to love this land?” Joseph asked.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Walker. I think I hear Amos.” Emma hurried to get the baby because she didn’t want to answer Joseph’s question. She was prepared to be a mail-order bride, but nothing readied her for the harshness of this land.

  Chapter Eight

  Joseph eagerly anticipated the evenings in the crowded home. The past two weeks, he and Eli scheduled time for blacksmithing tasks and cotton cultivation, and both enjoyed a hot, delicious supper, knowing the milking and home chores had been done. The plants thrived this year, but he avoided overconfidence as he’d witnessed promising crops come to naught because of a sudden hailstorm or a plague of locusts.

  Millie pushed to make herself indispensable and proved to be capable at a variety of jobs. Joseph vowed to address Millie's situation this evening and, more importantly, tell Emma he was ready to marry her. They'd made it a practice to sit on the porch after Amos was asleep. He still squawked when hungry, but other than that, he was reasonably pleasant. He’d turned from his stomach to his back the other evening when they were eating and raised a ruckus. The baby did something new every day.

  On the porch that night, as a big orange moon edged up on the horizon, Joseph turned to Millie.

  “Millie, you’ve never told us your last name.”

  “Haven’t. Don’t intend to. Am I doing something wrong?”

  “No, you’re doing everything right,” Joseph said. “Thought I might tell you a story about myself, how I came to Texas.”

  “I could listen,” Millie said.

  “We never had much growing up. There were five of us boys. Papa expected us to work hard, and we did, but never hard enough to suit him. He used his strap or his boot when he wasn’t happy, and he wasn’t happy much.”

  “Some people are born mean.” Millie studied her bare feet.

  "My brother and I ran away to Texas. He got a homestead right away. I helped him until I filed my claim. I wonder about my family sometimes. Do you wonder about yours?"

  “No! Texas is my home.”

  Joseph looked to Emma for approval before offering Millie assurance. “I won’t send you back, but you need a last name. You want to pick one?”

  Millie clapped like a child. "Already done it. I want to be Millie Farway because I'm far away from trouble. Do you like it?"

  Emma said, “I think you made a wonderful choice.”

  Joseph nodded. “I agree. And if anyone asks, I’ll say Farway was your name when you arrived here and asked for a job.”

  “I can stay?” Both Millie’s eyes and mouth opened wide.

  “We’re used to you, but I can’t pay you until the crop comes in,” Joseph said.

  “Already been paid. Got a roof over my head, food to eat, and nobody hits me, ’cept Amos, and he don’t know better.”

  Eli tried her name out. “Millie Farway. What else did you consider?”

  “I’ll tell you if you help bring in water for tomorrow morning.” Millie led and Eli shuffled beside her.

  “Think there’s a romance blooming?” Emma asked.

  “Eli’s nearly sixteen.” Joseph turned to her. “What about us, Emma? I wanted to wait when you showed up with a baby. And when Trouble, I mean Millie, arrived, it did shock me. But I’m ready now. Are you?”

  “I came to Texas, didn’t I?” Emma studied the moon which had turned from pumpkin orange to a full white circle in the night sky.

  “Wil
l you be happy here with me?” Joseph reached for her hand.

  “With you, yes, but sometimes I can’t bear to lift my eyes to the horizon because I’m overcome with an awful loneliness. I’m not sure I can bear it.”

  ***

  When Joseph escorted Emma, Millie, Eli, and Amos into his pew on Sunday, his stomach lurched. He’d offered to introduce the people living at his house to the congregation, which he dreaded, being slow of tongue. He envied Sam, a man who’d formed a friendship with words and used them in speech and writing as skillfully as Joe used a hammer on the anvil.

  The hymn, Holy, Holy, Holy, the Scripture reading, and even Sam’s sermon whisked past in a blur. When Sam asked for announcements or prayer requests, Joseph stood. He hadn’t told Emma about his plan and noted the concern on her face.

  “Folks, you all know me. I used to attend church by myself, but not anymore. Eli, Pastor Sam’s boy, lives on the homestead with me.”

  Feet shuffled, throats cleared, and fans waved. All gestures signifying people were impatient for Joe to tell them about the other three pew occupants.

  “Also with me today are strangers to you. Miss Emma York agreed to be my mail-order bride. But she didn’t come west alone. She’s holding a baby about four months old.”

  Exaggerated whispers and tongue clicking threatened to drown out his words.

  "Baby Amos is her nephew. Miss York's sister and brother-in-law died of cholera, leaving orphan Amos with no one to care for him except his aunt. Emma will need your kindness, support, and advice since motherhood and the Texas Blackland Prairie are both new to her."

  Pastor Sam noticed Joseph’s nervousness and jumped in. “The girl, Millie Farway, is a loyal, hardworking friend who followed Emma to Texas to help her with the baby. I hope you’ll welcome all of them into the congregation.”

  A buxom woman with a broad-brimmed hat asked the question Joseph knew was in all hearts. "Joe, you introduced her as Miss Emma. When is the wedding? We expected you to do the honorable thing and marry Miss York the day she got off the train."

  “We’re talking about a date,” Joseph mumbled.