Tillie’s Theatre: The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 20

by Barton, Keira K.

  Mrs. Jones chuckled. “Well, I can tell you’re already in trouble.”

  “What? Why?”

  “If you think you can write one thing that will appeal to all women, you’re delusional. Each woman is different. I might like something that the next woman will hate. Attracting a woman doesn’t really work the way you want it to.” Mrs. Jones shook her head.

  “Well then, how am I supposed to know what to say? I can’t ask the woman I want to marry what she wants to read in my ad.”

  Mrs. Jones tapped her finger on the table. “You simply put down the truth, and the woman who is meant for you will be drawn your way. You have to trust that.”

  William raised his eyebrows. He had never seen Mrs. Jones this impassioned about anything before.

  “And yes, even though you haven’t said it yet, there will be women drawn to you who won’t suit you. You’ll have to sort through them. But I think this is a fabulous idea. I’ve been wondering how long it would be before you finally made getting married a priority. I’m glad to see I didn’t have to beat some sense into you.”

  William was a bit taken aback by Mrs. Jones’s honesty. She was never so forward with him usually. On an average day, he had to pull out anything he wanted to know piece by piece. And she’d never used such tones in speaking to him before. Something was definitely going on with Mrs. Jones, but William couldn’t quite determine what it was.

  Despite his lack of a response, Mrs. Jones pressed on. “I happen to believe in destiny, and if you put out that ad, the right girl will eventually find you, Doctor. Mark my words.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mrs. Jones. Thank you. That’ll do.”

  William was perplexed. Part of him wanted to believe Mrs. Jones, but the more rational side of him—which happened to also be his dominant side—couldn’t believe that simply proclaiming he was available would be enough to attract the girl he wanted. He suddenly began to question why he’d ever thought Mrs. Jones such a wise adviser.

  Either way, stalling the writing of his ad wouldn’t do anything to further his goals, and he set out for his study. Mrs. Jones would just have to serve his supper in there because there wasn’t a moment to waste. He had to get to work on the words that would bring his future wife to Marshfield. This had to work.

  Chapter 3

  Tillie sat on her bed, her feet dangling a few inches above the floor where the empty envelope now lay. The smile on her face was so big that her cheeks began to ache, and as she reread the letter, she kicked her legs in excitement. He agrees!

  She just didn’t know what to feel—nervousness, anticipation, and happiness all bubbled up in her chest at the same time. Everything she’d hoped for was coming true. She’d been so worried about getting married to a perfect stranger, but then, after talking to Sally, the plan to ask for a different arrangement had formed in her mind, and here she was with her potential husband’s consent that he agreed to the plan as well!

  She had to read his words just one more time:

  Dear Miss Thompson,

  I find your proposal to delay our marriage until after we’ve gotten to know each other to be a fine idea. I too have felt a little uneasy about marrying whatever woman arrived without a chance to court her, and my heart will be at ease knowing we can take more time. I will make arrangements for you to board with an older couple with whom I am well acquainted until we have each made our respective decisions. I will cover the cost of your room and board. My only stipulation—in order to protect my investment in you and the school that we discussed in our prior letters—is that if you decide that I do not meet the qualifications you desire in a husband, or you desire to leave for some other reason, you must do so no earlier than three months after your arrival. Of course, if we are both satisfied with one another, we can decide to marry whenever we choose. Please respond with your consent to this stipulation. If all is well, I will send the ticket for your passage on the train in my next correspondence.

  Yours,

  Dr. William T. Powers

  Tillie never imagined she’d pick such a reasonable, understanding man out of Madam Wiggie’s catalog of eligible bachelors. In the few letters she’d exchanged with Dr. Powers, she’d found him to be most agreeable. She’d worried about sending her last letter, and had almost decided not to ask to court upon her arrival out of fear of losing the doctor’s interest. Now, knowing that he agreed with her, she was relieved she’d risked his favor and gone ahead. She felt so much better knowing she wouldn’t be blindly marrying a man she didn’t know.

  Well, she supposed it wouldn’t have been blindly, as Dr. Powers’s ad had included a photograph, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the photograph had a lot to do with her decision in picking him. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper she’d cut out of The Bride’s Bulletin. The man in the photo had thick, dark hair that was slightly longer than the styles she was used to seeing on men in New York City. It was pushed back away from his face, his dominant eyebrows and chiseled jaw on display. He had a nice straight nose and generous lips that were clearly visible even with his short, neatly trimmed beard.

  She felt slightly embarrassed at how many times she’d studied the doctor’s photograph, but she couldn’t help it—he was so handsome. His eyes were what drew her back to the grubby newspaper clipping more than anything else, though. She couldn’t tell what color they were, of course, but they looked sad in a way, or maybe not sad, but caring. They tilted down at the outside corners ever so slightly, hooded just enough to make him look thoroughly concerned and deeply interested. Because of his inquisitive eyes, it was as if Dr. Powers was already asking her—even pleading with her—to love him. She’d never seen such an intense look in the eyes of a man, and it pulled her in like a moth to a flame. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to hold out from falling for a man like that, but she was sure it wouldn’t be three months. If he was as caring and soulful as his picture suggested, she’d be head over heels in a matter of days. He didn’t have to know that, though.

  The door rattled, and Tillie shoved Dr. Powers’s letter and photograph under her pillow, trying to wipe the giddy smile off her face before whoever it was saw and teased her. Not wanting to look suspicious, she looked around for something to do, but when no ideas came to her, she turned and flopped down on the bed, closing her eyes.

  “Are you sleeping?” Uma asked, her rich voice tinged with annoyance.

  “No, I was…praying.” Oh, great. Now I’m lying about praying. What will become of me?

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Fine, then. I was just resting my eyes.”

  Uma rolled hers.

  “Oh, stop that. I know you’re sad Sally is leaving today, but brighten up! Soon you’ll be having such a good time with your future husband, you won’t even have the chance to miss any of us.”

  “I wish that were true,” Uma said. She was still clearly skeptical that any type of arranged marriage could work, and Tillie didn’t blame her. “So, do you know when you’re leaving yet?”

  “Not for sure, but I would imagine within the next month or so. As soon as Dr. Powers gets my response, he should be sending me my train ticket.” Tillie couldn’t help but smile, knowing the possibilities that were in store for her. Nothing was set in stone, her fate was not sealed, and she was still the master of her own destiny, although the doctor’s eyes might sway her decisions more than she’d ever admit.

  “Well, it will be a miracle if I’m not the last one out of here. You, Rebecca, and Sally all picked out grooms so easily, even after Sally insisted she’d never find one. My beau has to be in Cryptic, California—or nearby—if I’m ever going to discover what happened to my birth mother.” Uma sat down on her bed and crossed her arms.

  “Uma, you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. I haven’t been through the same things you have, and neither have Rebecca or Sally. Don’t be upset. When you’re ready, you’ll recognize the right man for you.” Till
ie sat down next to Uma on the bed and noticed how both of their feet dangled off the floor. It was funny that the two most petite women at the school had ended up as roommates.

  Uma put her head on Tillie’s shoulder. “I hope my husband will be as understanding as you when I lose my temper. Thanks for always being the levelheaded one in this room. I know I’m not always easy to be around.”

  “You may have a fiery personality, but that doesn’t make you any less likable. I think whoever ends up with you is a lucky man, and you should think so too. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, Uma. I’m going to miss you so much.”

  “And you’re not going to miss us?” Uma and Tillie turned around as Rebecca and Sally walked across the room and sat on Tillie’s bed to face them.

  “Of course I am!” Tillie said.

  Sally was positively radiant. “I’m going to miss you all too, but I’m so excited to go meet my sailor!”

  Tillie smiled. “I bet you are, Sally! Oh! I almost forgot to tell you the good news. I was waiting to hear back from Dr. Powers about one little detail before I said anything, but I’m going to Oregon too!”

  Sally jumped up from her seat on the bed. “You are? Oh, this is just the best news!”

  “Isn’t it?” Tillie exclaimed, pulling Sally into a hug. “I will be in Coos Bay, so not extremely close to you by any means, but if you consider the size of this country, it’s wonderful to be going to the same state! I just can’t believe I’m lucky enough to end up in Oregon with at least one of my sisters.” Tillie felt tears brimming in her eyes. She hadn’t realized just how deeply she would miss these amazing women.

  Rebecca stood and wrapped her arms around Sally and Tillie. “I’m so happy you two will have one another out there.”

  Uma cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I’m choking on all the excessive sentiment. I thought you ladies got this out of your systems on the way home from the H.M.S. Pinafore play last night. How many times are we going to say goodbye?”

  Rebecca released Sally and Tillie, and all three of them laughed.

  “We do need to be at the train station soon,” Sally said.

  “Are all of your things packed?” Tillie asked.

  “Yep, they’ve already been taken down to the carriage. Rebecca and I came to tell you and Uma to come downstairs so we could go.”

  “I can’t believe the four of us are really getting split up.” Rebecca’s voice was trembling, and Tillie caught Uma rolling her eyes again. It was incredible how much she hid behind her tough shell. Tillie tried to be tough, but her true feelings usually seeped out of her if pressed. Uma, however, was like a steel trap.

  “The end of an era,” Sally said with a dreamy sigh—so obviously looking forward to the next one.

  * * *

  A month later, it seemed to Tillie that only a few days had passed since Sally left. Preparing for her own journey—which was going to transition from train in San Francisco to a ship that would carry her up to Oregon—while still teaching and helping around the Wigg School and Foundling Home, had caused the days to fly by.

  One of the hardest decisions she'd had to make in her preparations was to sell her grandmother’s wedding ring. It had been given to her by her mother’s friend who’d helped Tillie go through her parents’ belongings when they’d passed, and it was the only thing Tillie owned worth any money at all. Because she didn’t want to be forced into anything in Oregon, she’d decided she needed to have a stash of her own. Even if her agreement with Dr. Powers stipulated that he would take care of her needs until they married, she didn’t want to count on that and then be left in a bad situation.

  It had been incredibly difficult for Tillie to leave Fede Rings—the shop she'd visited to sell the ring—without that special heirloom in her possession, but she knew that she would feel more secure because she had her own money. Her grandmother, Caroline Samuels, was probably mortified that Tillie had just sold the only item she’d kept to remind her of her husband. After they were married, Lord Grant Samuels never returned from the Napoleonic Wars and her grandma had run away to the United States, disenchanted with the aristocratic lifestyle she and her husband had felt trapped in. The ring—and Tillie’s mother—had been the only things left of Lord Samuel’s legacy, and Tillie’s stomach knotted, realizing that now they were both gone. Tillie was the only surviving descendent of Lord and Lady Grant Samuels.

  The woman who’d purchased the ring from her had been named Faye, and for some reason—even days later—Tillie couldn’t get her out of her mind, and it wasn’t because one of her friends at the school was named Fae. She’d been unusually kind, and seemed grateful for the chance to purchase Tillie’s ring. It was odd, but the main thing that had caused Tillie to think of her so often were the words she’d spoken to Tillie in parting. She’d said, “I know it’s hard to let go of the past, but sometimes new beginnings can heal old wounds.”

  Tillie wasn’t sure why the line had been so impactful, but it had planted a seed of hope for her about this new chapter in her life. Perhaps she really would find the love and healing she’d always longed for. Maybe, despite the way she and the doctor were being brought together, they really could find love. It was a dream that Tillie’d always hoped for, and even if a used ring shop owner was the only person to say it out loud, it could still be true.

  Rebecca had already left, and Tillie and Uma were the only ones in the carriage that was headed to the train station as it was Tillie’s turn to start her journey west.

  “Do you even know what Oregon is like, Til? What if you hate it?” Uma’s eyebrows were stitched together, the sour look on her face so indicative of the storm she must be feeling inside.

  Tillie looked at her friend with compassion. She couldn’t imagine leaving all she knew not just to start a school and get married, but to exact revenge on her mother’s killer. Uma was a woman unlike any other Tillie had ever known. “I won’t hate it,” Tillie said finally.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Well, if Dr. Powers is at all how he seems in his letters, and if he’s even half as good-looking as he is in his picture, I’m sure it will be impossible to loathe being near him. I’m actually looking forward to meeting him.” Tillie could feel her cheeks grow hot. Dr. Powers had been even sweeter than usual in his last letter, and had ensured her that all the proper arrangements had been made for her arrival. She couldn’t wait to get to Marshfield. If the forests were as thick and the water as picturesque as Dr. Powers had described, she was sure she wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new scenery.

  “Well, for your sake I hope he’s all that you hope him to be. At least he has a house.” Uma looked out the carriage window, and Tillie followed her gaze, noticing that they were almost to the train station.

  “The most beautiful house in all of Coos Bay,” Tillie said, echoing a line from one of the letters he’d sent. She found it endearing that the doctor had been preparing so ardently for his future wife and children so they could live in a comfortable home.

  “Did Wiggie seem sick to you when we went to tell her goodbye today?” Tillie noticed that Uma often changed the subject whenever talking about marriage started to bother her. She wondered if the poor girl would ever get over the hurts of her past.

  “No, actually. All month I’ve been studying her to see if her condition worsens. It would have been harder for me to leave if she looked ill, but she seemed in perfect health. I don’t understand how someone could be dying, yet appear to be fine outwardly.”

  “Neither do I.” Uma’s voice floated out of her like a dreamy half-thought. She was still looking out the window, and Tillie wondered what she was really thinking about. She was about to ask her friend what was on her mind when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

  We must be at the station.

  Tillie’s heart raced, and she felt unsteady as she exited the carriage. The moving of bags, the hugs goodbye, and everything else about boarding the train that would take her to Califo
rnia was a blur of tears and emotions.

  Uma gave Tillie one more long hug at the entrance to the train, and Tillie warned her not to burn bridges once she arrived in Cryptic, California, to meet her future husband, Jack MacKissick. Uma narrowed her eyes slightly at Tillie’s warnings, but didn’t argue with her, and the next thing Tillie knew, her behind was planted firmly in her seat, and she was waving at her raven-haired friend as iron wheels began to carry her west.

  Chapter 4

  William stood near the edge of the dock in the port of Coos Bay, waiting for the ship that was supposed to be carrying Miss Thompson up from San Francisco. He hoped she’d been able to move all of her luggage from the train to the ship without any problems. He’d sent more than enough money to pay someone to help her with the transition, but now he was worried.

  He looked out where the line of dark ocean water met the light-blue sky, hoping to see the shape of a ship coming toward him. The mid-morning sun was warming his back like the embrace of an old friend, pacifying his impatience. How he’d missed these sunny days that winter. It was hard to believe it was already almost June, and he fancied the idea of spending the summer with Tillie.

  William was glad he’d made the stipulation about Tillie staying three months no matter what. Summer was the optimum time for romance if ever there was one, of that he was sure. Summer held its own type of magic, and after that magic was gone, if he hadn’t convinced Miss Thompson to marry him, well then, there wouldn’t have been anything more either of them could have done.

  It felt as if it had been a year since he’d first placed the ad, but it had only been a few short months. He’d had so much to get ready before Tillie’s arrival, and he was proud to say that he’d pulled it all off.

  He’d gone back to see the Caldwells shortly after he’d started to receive letters in response to his ad, and on a whim had decided to ask Mrs. Caldwell’s opinion on some of the more promising ones. She, of course, had happily obliged, thoroughly amused that her little joke about bringing a woman to him had sparked the whole idea.