Mail Order Matilda (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 18)

by Margaret Tanner

“So, she says. Start up a correspondence with her and if you get any letters from other women, you can make your choice then.”

  “I haven’t got time. I’ll write to her tonight and tell her she’s suitable and can come as soon as she likes.”

  “Think about this. You don’t want to be stuck for life with some woman you don’t like.”

  “Like doesn’t come into it. If she can cook and keep house, I’ll take her. I’ve no intention of consummating the marriage so even if she is a hag I don’t care. It’s a business arrangement.”

  “Brodie!”

  “And what does the woman get out of it, my friend?” A grinning Hamish joined them.

  “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

  “Long enough. Come on, darlin’, I’ll help you serve the food. You can dish your own up if you like or wait for us. Won’t be long.”

  Matilda Freeman, sounded sincere enough and she wasn’t interested in romance. Suited him just fine.

  Two hours later, after Hamish and Liz had gone to their own room, and the passengers and drivers bedded down for the night, he took the letters into his study. He wrote a short note to the other two thanking them for their interest but saying he had found someone more suitable. Now the letter to this Tilly woman.

  Dear Miss Freeman,

  Thank you for your letter. You appear to be suitable for my needs. As I mentioned in my advertisement, my need is urgent, as the couple who have been helping me run the business would like to leave as soon as possible. If you would like to come straight away that would be fine with me.

  I am Brodie Miller, the owner of the Miller Stage Line. We don’t have a depot in Coyote Crossing, but if you could get yourself to Moyston you can catch the stage to here. I can tell my driver to expect you.

  This marriage is for the sake of propriety and will be one in name only. I don’t want to get you here under false pretenses, so I am making my position clear.

  I need a capable woman to cook and look after the comfort of my passengers during their stopover here. We normally don’t have more than four or five guests staying overnight at the one time. I have five hundred acres of ranchland, which I need for my horses as teams are changed here as well.

  There are six guest bedrooms plus two others, a sitting room for guests and my own private sitting room and a kitchen, which means it will be busy.

  In return you will receive free board and a room of your own and we can negotiate a reasonable wage.

  He paused for a moment. He was reluctant to give away too much of his personal business, yet he had to let her know what to expect. He didn’t want the woman to arrive here then not want to stay.

  I’m sorry if I sound blunt. I don’t want you to be under any illusion when you come here. The house is in good order. I had extra bedrooms built to give my overnight passengers somewhere comfortable to stay as of late, there seem to be more women undertaking these journeys and a bunkhouse would be inappropriate. You would need to cook their supper and an early breakfast.

  I think I have covered everything. I hope you will come Miss Freeman because I could certainly do with your help.

  Sincerely,

  Brodie Miller.

  He read it again. He was not the best letter writer although it explained the situation clearly. Hopefully, if she decided not to come, she would say so and not leave him in limbo. No point wasting his time and hers if she was not up to the task.

  Before he changed his mind, he pushed the letter into an envelope and sealed it ready to be collected by Hank who would be taking the mail coach out tomorrow morning. Hank had only worked here for a short time, although Hamish had vouched for his brother, which was good enough for him.

  Chapter Four

  Ten days had passed since Tilly wrote the letter. She was still staying with Mrs. Holbery with her money starting to run low. If the man didn’t reply soon, she didn’t know what she would do.

  The attitude of the town had not softened like she hoped. She was an outcast. Thankfully, the people living at the boarding house had made no complaint about her being here, probably because she made sure not to be around when they were. Some might call it cowardice, to her it was self-preservation.

  After trying to coax her down to the sitting room a couple of times in the evening, Mrs. Holbery had given up. “The less they see of me the better,” she had told her landlady. “I don’t want to cause any unpleasantness.”

  This one morning Charlie brought a letter over with the bread. “What’s a whore, Mrs. Holbery?” Tilly heard him ask and her blood ran cold, quickly followed by rage. How dare they.

  “That is a bad word, Charlie and you shouldn’t use it.”

  “Mrs. Ablett said….”

  “Forget what she said, Miss Freeman is a nice lady. Thank you for delivering the letter and the bread.”

  “Always the best loaf for you, Mrs. Holbery.”

  “Off you go, there’s a good lad.”

  Once the boy left, Tilly came out from where she had been skulking in the next room.

  “Mrs. Ablett is a disgraceful woman, Tilly.”

  “What will I do? They seem to hate me more with each passing day.”

  “I know, anyway here’s your letter. It might be from the gentleman you wrote to. Sit down and read it while we have a cup of tea.” Mrs. Holbery constantly drank tea. Tilly occasionally partook of a cup of tea, although she preferred coffee.

  She read the letter in between sips of tea. “His name is Brodie Miller and he owns the Miller Stage Line.”

  “I haven’t heard of it, although there are a couple of small stage companies as this is a lot of territory to cover.”

  “He sounds honest and wants a marriage of convenience only, which suits me.”

  “Well, he might change his mind when he sees you. You’re a pretty girl.”

  Tilly laughed. “You are just being kind. What do you think? Does he sound all right?”

  “Yes, the fact that stages are pulling in and out of his place on a regular basis means you have a way of leaving if you want to. I say do it.”

  “I was thinking the same thing and he sounds honest and sincere. Things are becoming intolerable in town. I can’t hide away forever.” She hated the thought of telling the kindly woman she was running out of money, even if she was only paying half the usual rent because of the house duties she was performing. She feared if she mentioned her lack of funds Mrs. Holbery might insist on not taking any rent, which wouldn’t be fair as she was struggling to make ends meet also.

  “I’ll go up and write the letter now.” As she reached her room, she had a sudden thought. Why not just turn up. The man said he was anxious to get a wife, and she was certainly anxious to leave town.

  Tomorrow, she would get the mail coach to Moyston, to enable her to catch Brodie Miller’s stage. She would stay the night there to make sure she had plenty of time to get to the stage depot. Her finances were poor, but she figured this would be money well spent.

  ***

  Tilly arrived at the Moyston stage depot and went up to a window to introduce herself to the man there. He expressed no surprise. “We were told to expect you sometime soon. Brodie is a good man.”

  “Thank you.” She had no idea what Brodie Miller had told them so didn’t impart any further information.

  Tilly boarded the coach bound for Eldorado. Hank was their driver and Dave rode shotgun. They were both middle age men, which was somehow comforting. She much preferred their experience to the reckless bravado shown by younger men.

  Her fellow passengers were an elderly man wearing a black suit and a clerical collar. A young woman about the same age as her, carried a squirming baby of about eight months or so. The woman was plain with a slightly hooked nose and mousey hair, whereas the baby had beautiful big blue eyes, with a few tufts of blonde hair sticking out from her bonnet.

  “Okay, ladies and gent, let’s get this here stage rolling,” Hank said.

  The man called Dave helped them board. T
he luggage had already been packed on top of the coach and covered by a piece of tied down canvas. Tilly only had one trunk and a small carpet bag. Not much to show for twenty-two years on this earth.

  Once they were seated, she sat next to the elderly man while the woman with the baby sat opposite. The whip cracked then the springs groaned. They were off, hopefully to a better life for her.

  The fact the man at the depot had called Brodie Miller a good man was reassuring. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be annoyed at her for coming so soon unannounced.

  Her position in Coyote Crossing was becoming untenable, snide remarks, downright rudeness, being spoken about in such unsavory terms was soul destroying. Worse still, no-one would give her a job. Where the other two passengers came from, she had no idea.

  “I’m Reverend Benedict Egan,” the old man introduced himself.

  “Good morning, Reverend, I’m Tilly Freeman.”

  “I’m Doris,” the other woman said. “And the baby is Daisy.”

  The man smiled and nodded.

  “She’s beautiful,” Tilly said. “You’re so lucky to have her.”

  Would she ever know the joy of having a baby of her own? If Brodie Miller had his way she never would. Sadness for what might have been overwhelmed her.

  “She’s not mine,” Doris said.

  “Oh?” That explained it Tilly thought as Doris hadn’t acted particularly maternal.

  “I’m from the orphanage in Moyston. I’m taking Daisy to a woman in Four Winds. She’s got someone who wants to adopt her.”

  Tilly had read about private adoption agencies. The babies were sold to them by orphanages or desperate parents then on sold to couples who wanted children.

  “That seems rather cold blooded,” Tilly blurted out.

  “Well, I’m paid to take the baby there then I come back and get another one and take it to wherever I’m told.”

  “It doesn’t seem right,” Tilly said.

  “I don’t question it. Easy way for me to earn my wages, better than scrubbing floors and washing clothes.”

  “Don’t you get attached to them?”

  “No, it’s just a job to me.”

  “She’s so pretty. Look at those big blue eyes and….”

  “It’s pretty blue eyed, blonde haired babies the rich people want.” Bitterness edged her voice. Had Doris missed out on being adopted because she was so plain looking?

  “I think it’s disgusting, buying and selling babies like stock at auction,” Tilly said.

  There was a hardness about Doris for one so young. She had probably seen a lot of suffering. Some of those orphanages were supposed to be terrible places with the children being underfed and ill-treated, At least little Daisy looked plump and healthy. Turkeys being fattened up for Thanksgiving did also. She inwardly shuddered. What kind of mother would dump her child in an orphanage? A desperate one most likely.

  That could have been me had Geoffrey given me a child. At least she knew that hadn’t happened. She would have been in diabolical straits if it had, which made how he tricked her even more reprehensible. What his first and lawful wife was like she had no idea. Did they have children? She had not thought of that before. Grief and shock had obviously affected her brain’s capacity to think properly. How could she not wonder about a thing like that?

  He had obviously shared his time between the two of them or was there a third unfortunate woman like the sheriff said? What if the third woman had children? She had to stop thinking like this or she would become violently ill. Even if there were children involved, she would never know, and even if she did somehow find out, could do nothing to help them.

  Dust swirled around behind the stage and it swayed and groaned. They were obviously traveling over rough ground. She dozed off and only awoke when they came to a shuddering stop.

  “Okay everyone.” Hank poked his head through the windows. “We stop here to rest the horses and have something to eat.”

  The baby who had slept until now woke up crying. “She’s hungry and her diaper needs changing,” Doris said as she leaned down and picked up a bag from the floor. She took out a feeding bottle, a can and a flannel diaper.

  “I’ll put the bag back for you,” Tilly volunteered.

  “No, you hold the baby while I get her bottle ready.”

  “How old is she?”

  “About eight months old give or take.” Doris shrugged her shoulders. “She was dumped on the steps of a church as a new-born and they handed her over to us.”

  “How sad.” Tilly bounced the baby on her knee. “You’re a real little darling. I wish I could have you.” The baby gave her a dribbling smile.

  “Okay, all out,” Hank yelled. “No one gets waited on here.”

  Tilly clutched the baby as Hank helped her down.

  “Nice little kid,” he said.

  “I think so. She’s not mine.”

  Hank grinned. “Nah, the boss wouldn’t get hitched to a woman with a kid.”

  “Why not?” she asked indignantly.

  “I don’t think he can be bothered with them; they’d get in the way of his business.”

  What a selfish attitude although he hadn’t hidden his aversion to children in his letter. She should not be surprised except it sounded worse when spoken out loud. She wanted to ask him what his boss was like but didn’t quite dare. He might relay everything she said back to Brodie Miller.

  They shared beans and coffee and were able to stretch their legs for a while. They were near a stand of trees and the stone fireplace Hank had used indicated this was a regular stopping place for them.

  The baby had been fed and changed. Tilly watched with interest. Hard faced and all as Doris appeared, she was competent enough. “I’m always glad to hand the brats over,” she said.

  “Don’t say that. It would break my heart to give up a sweet little soul like her.”

  “I’ve got two grandchildren,” Reverend Egan said. “She’s a pretty little girl.” He tickled the baby under the chin. “It’s a shocking indictment on society when children can be bought and sold like cattle.”

  “Don’t blame me,” Doris said with a sullen expression on her face.

  “I’m not condemning you, my dear, just saying.”

  “All aboard,” Hank yelled. “I’ll have you at the depot in about four hours.”

  Tilly was starting to feel anxious about meeting Brodie Miller. Dave said he was a good man. His coach and horses were in excellent condition. She had not ridden a horse in years yet knew well cared for animals when she saw them.

  Pa had had little time for her, ma either. She had been expected to help around the ranch until he had gambled it away.

  She must have dozed off. A gunshot startled her, and she shot upright in her seat. Doris screamed. Through the window she saw half a dozen riders with kerchiefs pulled up over their faces.

  “Hand over those mail sacks.”

  “No.” Hank yelled back.

  Dave let off a couple of shots then dived for cover under the stage. Doris pulled out a gun. Her hands trembled so badly it dropped to the floor. Tilly bent down and picked it up. She hadn’t fired a gun in years.

  The men had taken cover behind nearby trees. Dave and Hank were fighting a pitched battle now and two against several were not good odds. A bullet slammed into the stage, another one tore through Reverend Egan’s hat.

  Tilly snatched up the crying baby and placed her on the floor. Doris wept loudly. Tilly poked her head out the window, lined up the lead man and pressed the trigger. He yelped and fell over clutching his shoulder. Doris suddenly screamed and slumped forward. Either Dave or Hank winged another of the outlaws, a second one fell to the ground and Tilly emptied the gun as the survivors raced off.

  Reverend Egan had recovered himself enough to check on Doris. “She’s dead,” he said.

  “Dead!” Tilly shrieked. “She can’t be.” Just like that, in a split second her life had been snuffed out.

  “Nice shooting,” Hank s
aid opening the door. “I didn’t realize a man of the cloth knew how to use a gun.”

  “It wasn’t me; it was Miss Freeman. I’m afraid the other young lady is dead.”

  “Dead?” He swore as he took the gun from Tilly’s trembling hand.

  “What will happen to the baby?” She picked up little Daisy who was screaming so hard her face had turned red.

  “You keep her,” Reverend Egan said. “No child should go to an orphanage if there is any other option.”

  “I know, it’s dreadful, but….”

  The old man leaned over and closed Doris’ eyes before saying a prayer over her.

  Tilly was trembling yet held the baby tightly, possessively. “I shot a man.”

  “A good thing you did,” Hank said as he helped her down. “We would have been overwhelmed if you hadn’t stepped in.”

  “It was good shooting Ma’am,” Dave said, his eyes widening as he saw Doris.

  “Okay. Stand over there, ma-am. Out of the stage, Reverend. Quick, get a shovel, Dave. We need to get moving in case they come back.” Hank said. “We’ll have to bury the lady first; we can’t just leave her here. We need to let the sheriff in Eldorado know. He can come out here with the undertaker and see to things.”

  Tilly sat under a tree holding the baby. “I won’t let the orphanage have you, sweetheart. If Brodie Miller refuses to marry me, so be it.”

  After a while Reverend Egan returned. “I said a prayer over the unfortunate young woman. Doris Thompson is her name.”

  “What about the baby? There’s nothing with the child’s name on it amongst their belongings, only the name of the orphanage who were selling her to the adoption broker for fifty dollars.”

  “Fifty dollars – a baby’s life is worth only fifty dollars? It’s criminal, those people should be handed over to the law,” Tilly raged. “I’ve got a good mind to contact those evil creatures myself.”

  “Now, now, my dear. Don’t get overwrought. If you want my advice, take the baby. I know you have a great capacity to love this little mite. The two drivers and me, are the only ones who know she was with the poor unfortunate Miss Thompson. They wouldn’t say anything in the unlikely event those evil people did come looking for her.”