Mail Order Melanie

by Ginny Sterling

  It was obvious no one had been there all day and not one lamp or candle was illuminated. A strange house in the dark seemed particularly scary. What if she tripped over something? Another home stood off in the distance, perched on a small hill. As the wagon pulled to a stop before the empty home, she glanced up to see the stars above. It was breathtakingly clear tonight, and she could see clusters of lights in the sky, reminding her of when she’d been a girl growing up. She used to lie in the grass and stare up at the stars with her papa before she’d ‘gotten too old for such silliness’.

  She loved the stars.

  “Here’s your stop, Mrs. Mitchell.”

  Relieved, she saw the sheriff (who she knew as Robert now due to Sally’s constant chittering with the man during the entire ride) strike a match on his heel and light an oil lamp before winking at her.

  “Let’s get you inside and then I’ll get Sally on up the road to her sister’s.”

  “Thank you,” Melanie said gratefully, hoping to find a lamp or two easily in the dark home. Stepping inside, her eyes touched every shadowy surface searching for a lamp, finding two on the large mantle. Robert lit both and quickly departed, leaving her alone. Picking up a throw off the back of a rocking chair, she threw it around her shoulders and began to look around.

  The house was lovely.

  The room they’d entered in was more like a kitchen than a parlor, surprising her. It was warm and inviting instead of formal. A large table occupied a good portion of the space with several chairs tucked neatly underneath. Several cabinets lined a wall forming a counter surface that actually had a basin with a pump inside of the house. Gaping, she marveled at the luxury this was.

  No trips out to a well in the middle of winter for her ever again.

  Even Herbert would not indulge in the plumbing indoors, claiming it wasn’t prudent to spend the money on it. Reverently, she touched her hand on the pump and couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips.

  As she continued to explore, she found a large pantry with several shelves full of goods as well as a small hallway with three doors. Opening one doorway, she saw a large bed with a nightstand, a dresser with a wash basin on it, and several hooks on the wall where a few shirts hung as well as a belt.

  This was Chance’s room.

  Flushing nervously, she backed out and pulled the door to with an audible click. Opening the next door, Melanie did a double-take, slamming it shut in disbelief. She opened it slowly again and saw the modern bathroom. Her home with Herbert had a single toilet and a small tub with a drain hole in the bottom that she had to fill slowly, carting buckets into the house. She slowly opened the door again and gaped at the contents.

  This was luxury at its finest!

  A massive cast iron tub lined the wall under a small window. Beside it was a tall toilet with a high tank that ran up the wall and had a pipe coming through the ceiling. Did that mean there was a cistern on top? Had her new husband truly spent that much money updating the small house with indoor plumbing? The idea of it was staggering! She knew nothing about plumbing, tubs, and toilets, except that the tank up at the top had to fill somehow. A lovely tile floor covered the expanse of the room, along with a radiator to keep it warm in the wintertime. This was quite a luxury!

  A small nervous giggle slipped past her lips as she realized she could have a hot bath without carrying bucket after bucket of water to heat. Were the washbasins in the room for show or just to clean up in the morning? Maybe he used it to shave, remembering Chance was clean shaven, unlike many men she’d seen in town.

  Peering around the corner and looking further down the hall, she gingerly opened the other door, gasping in surprise. A thin bed was made up with a quilt and two pillows, as well as a rocking chair, and a wooden bassinet in the corner. There was a parcel lying on the bed tied with twine and wrapped in brown paper.

  Nervously, she sat the oil lamp onto the dresser in the room and took a seat on the bed, eyeing the package. Was this here for her? Did her new husband intend for them to have separate rooms? The quilt on the bed was made of red, pink, and white squares with a hint of yellow, giving it a feminine appearance due to the many shades there. A doily was on top of the dresser where the wash basin rested.

  Was this his wife’s room?

  Surely not!

  Hands trembling, she picked up the package and slowly opened it as if it was poisonous or posed a threat to her. She wasn’t quite sure it was for her, but who else could it be for? It was just lying there in wait, in a room with the baby’s bed. Folding back the paper, she felt a lump in her throat as she saw the gift.

  “Do you like it?”

  Melanie let out a nervous scream, the package sliding off her lap as she saw Chance standing in the doorway holding a bundle in his arms. A nervous cry emerged from the fabric that appeared to be balled up awkwardly in his arms, and she winced.

  “You’ll scare a person to death sneaking up on them like that,” she bit out, laying a hand on her chest. “You frightened me and now I’ve woken the baby. What’s her name again?”

  “Amelia,” he said quietly, coming to sit beside her on the small bed where she was. “She’s about a month old and has already changed so much.”

  There was something to his voice that hitched, making her heart lurch in her chest. She looked at him staring down at his child and realized that her new stepdaughter had her daddy wrapped completely around her finger already. Smiling softly, she held out her hands, wondering what it would be like to hold her own child someday.

  “May I?”

  “Please.”

  Melanie accepted the bundle and listened to him talk softly to his daughter.

  “Amelia, this is going to be my new wife and your new mo…” he hesitated before continuing, “… keeper. She’s going to share our home and our lives, little one.”

  Looking down, she saw the baby had dark bluish eyes that closed ever so slowly, indicating that she was sleepy. The pert little pink rosebud mouth took that moment to open wide in a yawn that looked too big for her body but revealed her gums and a tiny tongue. Her lids closed and a muffled sound filled the room, causing Melanie to laugh as she realized her brand-new daughter had passed gas against her right hand that cupped her bottom through the swaddling.

  “The milk she’d been fed since birth irritates her bowels sometimes,” Chance said with a slight smile, his eyes still on his daughter’s features. Melanie stared at him as she realized that he was actually quite handsome when he actually looked happy.

  “She’s lovely.”

  “So was her mother,” Chance said immediately, his smile faltering before disappearing completely. “I appreciate you coming out here and cannot thank you enough. I hope you find your home here comfortable and that you like your wedding gift from us both. I thought you should have something of your own to welcome you here.”

  “I barely opened the package but I’m sure whatever it is, it is lovely. You have a beautiful home and I am quite fortunate to be here,” she replied truthfully, staring at the baby and tracing her face with her fingertip in awe. “I can’t get over how beautiful she is.”

  “This will be your room,” Chance said, clearing his throat nervously and getting to his feet. “I will not bother you with my attentions. I would prefer you focus your emotions towards bonding with our daughter. I would like us to be friends, Melanie, and if there is anything you need – just let me know.”

  “Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat,” she offered politely.

  “I will be turning in. I’m tired and it’s been a long day.”

  Chance stepped out of the room without another word and closed the door behind him. Melanie looked down at Amelia and whispered to her as if she was listening.

  “Your papa is a very sad man and I wonder sometimes if he has ever smiled at all,” she began, admiring the cherub in her arms. “This is a lovely house, you are a beautiful and sweet little girl, and I just hope that someday all of us can be a fami
ly.”

  Chapter 6

  Amelia was a banshee.

  A piercing wail split the silence, jerking Melanie upright in her bed. Shriek, after shriek, screeched like a siren. She padded over to the cradle and picked up the squalling baby with was shoving her fist in her mouth desperately as she cried with feces running down her legs and in the swaddling.

  “I thought you could handle this,” Chance said groggily from the doorway behind her, making her jump in alarm. Amelia opened her mouth and let out another blood-curdling scream before scrunching up and depositing another bowel movement everywhere.

  “Heavens!” Melanie uttered, horrified.

  “Just get her to stop screaming so I can sleep for work.”

  “I’m trying!”

  “She needs a bottle.”

  “She needs a bath!” Melanie retorted angrily as Chance walked away. She didn’t even focus on the fact that he only had his pants on and his shirt was missing. She was too busy dodging ‘bullets’ as the child let loose another stream of gas that was sure to result in another bowel movement.

  “Heaven help me,” she repeated, gathering up the filthy blankets with one hand and desperately cradling the child against her with the other. She winced as the rancid smell hit her nose and something warm soaked through her nightgown.

  Amelia screamed again as Chance reappeared.

  “Here,” he said, thrusting a bottle at Melanie.

  “Here,” she bit out, handing him the filthy swaddling, only to see him back away. “Just open the front door then, Chance. My hands are full.”

  “You are tossing it on the porch?”

  “Do you want it in your room?”

  “No!” he barked out in disbelief, laughing. She glanced at him sharply.

  “Neither do I,” she admitted. “I’ll do laundry tomorrow, but for tonight I just need to get Amelia fed and we both need something clean to lay down on. I’ll feed her, clean her up, and get her back into bed. Go lay down once you open the front door.”

  Melanie followed Chance towards the door and felt Amelia pass gas again, wincing as a second round of warmth made contact with her side. “What kind of milk is this?”

  “Cow.”

  “Let’s get a goat tomorrow. Sometimes babies can’t handle cow milk.”

  “I bought a goat and everyone laughed at me,” Chance said in disbelief.

  “Well it was pretty darn brilliant,” she retorted with a smile as he held open the door.

  “Now, take care,” she cautioned, flinging the pile of filthy laundry onto the porch.

  Melanie tried not to stare at her new husband and instead busied herself with sitting down in the rocker and ignoring the poop running down the side of her nightgown. She had to stop Amelia’s rampant screaming first before her eardrums shattered. The poor child was desperately rooting against her breast and her own fist searching for sustenance.

  “Here sweet girl,” Melanie crooned, putting the nipple of the bottle against her lips. Amelia latched onto it fiercely, just before she began sucking and snorting as she fed. Melanie grinned at the baby who was fiercely draining the bottle. After several moments, she propped the baby onto her shoulder to burp her, ignoring the smell coming from the child’s nappy. Several pats later, a massive belch split the night air, followed by a gurgle of happiness from Amelia.

  “Excuse you, missy,” Melanie laughed, returning the child to her original position so she could finish her bottle. She sat there for quite a while, slowly rocking, as the baby ate. She was beyond exhausted at the interruption to her sleep, but deep down knew these moments with Amelia would be precious for them to bond.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Chance’s voice carried across the room, causing Melanie to look up at him. Her breath caught in her lungs as she saw him for the first time and truly saw him. His disheveled dark hair, his warm eyes focused on the two of them, combined with his appearance there was devastating. Her husband was actually devastatingly handsome when he let his guard down.

  “I filled the tub, put a fresh blanket down in her crib, and laid out a clean nightgown for you both. I also opened your window to air things out. I apologize for looking through your personal things for the gown,” he said quietly; his cheeks were slightly ruddy as if he looked embarrassed to have helped her out.

  “Thank you, Chance,” she whispered, stunned. It was so kind of him to do that and she was touched. This was something she wasn’t used to in the slightest. She remembered one time she was ill and Herbert made her sleep in another room because she was keeping him up at night.

  “That was sweet of you.”

  “Goodnight, Melanie,” he said quickly, walking off towards his room abruptly. His quick disappearance left her reeling with the unspoken rejection. She moved the sleepy baby onto her shoulder and began to pat her once again on the back.

  “Amelia, I don’t think your papa likes me very much,” she breathed aloud.

  Buuuurrrrp!

  Melanie sighed.

  Chance lay in his bed trying to ignore the sounds of Melanie moving about the house and talking to the baby. Seeing her in the rocker, smiling tenderly at the baby, and gazing up at him like she did made him feel alive for the first time in a month.

  …and horribly guilty.

  It was supposed to be his Beth rocking the baby.

  This stranger was taking her place and it wasn’t fair to either of them. He felt robbed of the woman he’d cared for and wasn’t ready to befriend his new wife just yet. With a friendship there would be an underlying fondness and to him, it meant letting go of Beth, and he was scared to do so. Even now, he kept her things where they were in their room. It had been surreal to see her buried, but moving her things would mean she was truly gone.

  He rejected the idea of her death – even while marrying Melanie.

  That was a transaction.

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  He didn’t want to acknowledge how beautiful Melanie looked with Amelia in her arms and the oil lamp casting a glow on her features. Her dark braid cascaded over her shoulder stopping just below her breast. It felt like he was cheating on Beth’s memory.

  Unflinchingly Melanie cared for his daughter regardless of the mess Amelia had made due to her tummy issues. Melanie didn’t care because that is what mothers did, he realized, thanking God for sending her to him.

  Rolling over, he felt a tear slip from his eye into his hair as he realized that maybe this was God’s way of sending him someone that could handle the vacuum that losing Beth had created in his life – only acknowledging that idea meant circling back to the fact that his wife had died and he was truly alone with Amelia.

  Chance buried his face in his pillow and wept.

  Chapter 7

  Melanie awoke this morning to a happy coo coming from directly beside her. The baby had awoken another time during the night with another bout of explosive diarrhea that was foul enough to peel paint off of wood. She again threw the filthy clothing onto the porch, bathed the child, and gave her a bottle. This time, she curled up in bed with the infant and they’d both fallen back asleep.

  “You are a sweet thing, aren’t you?” Melanie crooned, seeing the baby wave her fists happily and kick her feet. “I like it when you aren’t screaming or pooping on me. We are going to get you some goat milk and see if that makes your tummy better or worse. I’m fresh out of nightgowns and we’ll need to clean everything today. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  Another coo in response.

  “Exactly, missy,” Melanie said with a smile, tapping her gently on the nose before kissing her forehead. “You and me, we have a lot of work to do today, and I think we’ll keep each other company all day long while your papa works.”

  Melanie started for a moment, peering over her shoulder to make sure the bedroom door was closed and Chance wasn’t standing in it listening.

  “I wonder if he is here?” she mused aloud, climbing out of the bed, and picking up the baby. Opening the door slowly,
she peered around the corner before padding barefoot into the family room in her nightgown and stopping.

  There was a bowl of eggs on the table, a pot of coffee with steam rising from the spout, and a folded note. Walking over, she opened it and saw his bold handwriting.

  Thank you for being there for us.

  I rolled the wash bin out of the barn for you.

  Chance

  “What a love letter, eh?” Melanie confessed to the baby with a smile before rubbing her nose against Amelia’s. “Let’s make something for me and a little something for you. Sound good, Amelia?”

  With Chance being gone, Melanie began milling about the house, gathering up things here and there that had been dropped during the night’s escapades between feedings. She found several marks left on the flooring that had to be cleaned up, as well as a spot in her bed once she’d picked up the baby. She actually felt bad for Amelia knowing that the poor thing couldn’t tell her when her stomach hurt her, nor when another bout was about to roll over her.

  Straightening up immediately, Melanie rested a hand on her own stomach, feeling the slight hardness and bulge under her nightgown. The last few weeks had been terrible with her own bouts of illness repeatedly wringing through her. She could empathize with what the baby was going through; however, she hadn’t been sick during the night nor this morning.

  How strange.

  She found herself wanting to ask Chance questions about how Beth’s pregnancy was, if this was normal, or if she should be concerned, but knew deep down she couldn’t. This was her secret. She hadn’t told anyone she was pregnant and her new husband might not take kindly to the idea – especially when he said he would keep his attentions to himself.