Imogene’s Ingenuity: The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides

by Torres, Reina

As they passed by the Quinns, the Hamptons, and Mrs. Clement they turned to give the assembled group a little smile.

  The reactions from their friends were as varied as could be expected for such an unusual beginning to a prescribed ceremony, but they made their way back up to the front of the room and Silas helped her up the step so that they could stand before Pastor Clement together, a new lightness to their expressions.

  “Our apologies,” Silas smiled at the older gentleman, “we had a few things to discuss.”

  “I see,” the pastor had a pleasant smile on his face, but his eyes said he was confused, “are we ready to continue?”

  The two nodded and stood before the pastor who continued on with the ceremony. They’d forgone with the ring exchange as they had not had time to purchase rings for the occasion, but when he was asked if he would take her as his wife, to honor her and keep her in sickness and in health, he didn’t have a moment of thought before he told her, “I do.”

  And when he did, he saw Imogene’s eyes sparkle with tears as her mouth curled up at the corners with a gentle smile.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Pastor turn to look at Imogene.

  “Miss Wigg,-”

  “I do, too.”

  The assembled ground of parishioners went silent at the quick declaration.

  “Miss Wigg,” the pastor cleared his throat, “usually the bride waits to be asked the question.”

  “I am sorry, but it seemed a shame to have you say it again after you’ve done it once already. After our momentary halt to the ceremony earlier, I wanted things to move along.”

  Soft laughter filtered through the church before Imogene explained further.

  “I can’t help it,” she explained to the pastor, “if you had smelled the cake baking, you would want to hurry through the ceremony too.”

  Silas smiled at Imogene standing before him. “Hungry?”

  She grinned, her eyes alight with mischief. “Starving.”

  The deep booming laughter of Livingstone Quinn reached their ears from the second pew. “There’s only the kiss left,” he reminded them. “That doesn’t take too long, unless you want it to.”

  Sitting beside him, his wife flushed red to the roots of her hair. “Quinn.”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I was just giving him something to think about.”

  Pastor Clement closed the book in his hands and gave them a happy sigh. “It seems as though we’ve come to the end of this ceremony. You may now kiss the bride.”

  Silas could tell that Imogene hadn’t quite thought of the moment ahead of time. She’d likely been so worried about the rest of it. And now it was up to him to follow the pastor’s simple instruction.

  And how odd it was that he was now shaking.

  Earlier, there had been a number of emotions that he’d had to deal with, worrying about the ceremony and if he was doing right by Imogene with this wedding, but standing there in the front of the church with a good number of townspeople watching, he found himself worrying over something else entirely.

  Imogene looked up at him and he saw a look that humbled him more than any angry words or superior looks from others.

  He saw trust.

  She trusted him.

  What else could he do than be worthy of that trust.

  He held out his arms to her and she stepped closer to him. He took hold of her forearms and met her in the middle. Or rather, as close to the middle as they could, for his new bride rose up likely to the tips of her boots, her bouquet held securely in her hand. He leaned down and watched as her eyes drifted closed the closer he came.

  And there it was.

  Their first kiss as husband and wife.

  A gentle brush of his lips against hers.

  A soft indrawn gasp of surprise from his wife.

  And his heart began to beat loudly in his chest, so loudly that he was sure that everyone in the church could hear it.

  Straightening, he pressed a kiss on her forehead as well. “I will take care of you, Imogene. I swear it.”

  He looked down as she touched a hand to the center of his chest. The affectionate gesture made the world around him spin with hope.

  “And I,” she told him, “will do everything I can to make you happy.”

  He wrapped his hand around hers, lifting it from his chest to touch her palm to his cheek. “All you have to do is be beside me, Imogene.”

  And it was true. All the way down to the center of his heart, it was true.

  The realization humbled him again.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Pastor Clement addressed the congregation, “please join me in acknowledging Mister Silas Hix and his wife Imogene Hix.”

  The congregation stood and cheered in good spirits as Silas walked his wife down the aisle and out into the mid-morning sun.

  Chapter 13

  The wedding breakfast lasted well into the mid-day meal and the boarders from Hampton House as well as other townsfolk stopped in to offer their good wishes and sample Mrs. Hampton’s cooking.

  When Imogene stood to help clear the table it was Mrs. Hampton, Carolina, who told her to remain seated, but true to her character, Imogene got up anyway and picked up platters to carry into the kitchen.

  Right behind her, was Mr. Hix.

  Silas.

  Her husband.

  As she paused behind Carolina at the sink, she saw his shadow fall over her and stretch across the counter.

  It was an odd feeling, but one that was also strangely comforting.

  A husband was something she’d never wanted.

  She’d traveled miles and miles to avoid the need to take one and yet, here she was, married.

  To a man she admired.

  “Imogene?” She turned to see a knowing smile on Carolina’s lips. “Are you sleeping?”

  Shrugging with a smile, Imogene handed the platter to Carolina when she reached for them. “I was lost in my thoughts.”

  Imogene felt a sudden shift behind her and smelled the clean crisp scent of the soap that Silas had used to wash his hair earlier. She held still, waiting for him.

  “Am I in your thoughts, Mrs. Hix?”

  The soft timbre of his voice sent shivers up and down her arms. “Perhaps, Mr. Hix.”

  Mrs. Hampton took the platters from Silas’ hands and set them in the sink. “Perhaps you two should head home and have a few minutes of quiet.”

  Imogene felt her heart stutter in her chest and she turned to look at Carolina. “I should stay here and help.”

  Carolina’s smile was soft and sweet. “We’re not expecting you back for this evening’s meal. Miles has a hamper packed for you to take home, part of our gift to you both.”

  Looking up at her husband, Imogene knew that what Carolina was saying was right. Since they’d been found after the snow storm, they’d hardly spent any time alone. Most of that was because they were under the watchful eyes of the town, but now that they were husband and wife, they could take time alone and no one, not even his neighbor, Mr. Winslet, could say anything about it.

  Silas lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Imogene barely resisted the urge to lean her cheek into his touch. “Shall we?” he wondered aloud.

  She swallowed against the knot that had suddenly formed in her throat and barely managed a whisper. “Shall we…”

  “Go home, Imogene?”

  She felt his hands settle on her shoulders and gently pulled her closer into the shadow of his height. She heard Carolina exit the room and she smiled up at Silas. “Yes, let’s go home.”

  * * *

  Perhaps it was just the familiar environs of the Hampton House and its kitchen, but once they’d made their way outside and walked together down the street arm-in-arm, the confidence that Imogene had felt begun to wane.

  When they reached the door of the print shop, Silas withdrew the key from his coat pocket and opened the door, holding it open for her, his arm stretched out over h
er head.

  She offered him a soft laugh as she ducked beneath his arm, but once he’d stepped inside and closed and locked the door, shutting out the world, she was suddenly quiet and unsure of herself again.

  Silas spoke to break the silence.

  “Mr. Laughlin had a couple of men deliver your trunk here and put it upstairs after the morning service. When you’re ready to unpack your belongings, just let me know.” He crossed the room and set the hamper down on the desk. “If you’d like to change your clothes or sit down and read,” he swallowed and leaned on the desk, “that’s just fine as well.”

  A moment of silence passed between them before he crossed the room again and looked at the board he’d affixed to the wall a few days after they’d met. It was an older slate board that the Bower School had stored in a back room when they’d bought new boards for the school rooms. Imogene had suggested to the current teacher that they trade the board for a few printing jobs that would assist with the classes they were holding for some of the miners.

  Now, it held the current status of each of the jobs that Silas had waiting.

  “What if I wanted to help you with what you’re doing?”

  She saw the way his shoulders tensed just a little before he turned to look at her.

  “You should rest.”

  “What about you,” she answered back, “if you’re working, I should too.”

  She saw his spine straighten by a hair.

  “I’m not putting you to work,” his voice was soft and his tone was even. “I didn’t marry you so you’d work for me.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t think you did, but before, you said you couldn’t hire a woman if you were a bachelor and she was-”

  “That doesn’t mean that you have to work in the shop.”

  Crossing the room to his side, she moved close enough that she could see the lists of print jobs waiting for him. “And it doesn’t mean that I can’t. I like working with you. It’s part of the reason that we’re here today.”

  She knew that the soft look in his eyes didn’t begin to tell her what was in his head, but she did know that he was only a few words away from a smile.

  “By my count,” she focused her gaze on the board and the sight of his careful writing in chalk, “we have three jobs due in the next two days.”

  He nodded and leaned closer to the board.

  “Which one would you like me to start on?”

  She couldn’t see him shaking his head, given how far his head was above hers, but she could tell by the way his body twisted ever so slightly back and forth, that he was struggling with her comments. He wasn’t upset. She knew he wouldn’t be.

  But still, she wasn’t going to give him his way so easily… or not at all.

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “Me?” She tried not to laugh as she asked the silly question.

  “Yes, you.” Sighing, he turned to look at her and she turned, lifting her chin so she had a hope of seeing into his eyes. “You’re not going to listen to me.”

  “If there was a reason for me to sit and watch you work, then I would. If I was ill or infirm, then fine. And yet, I’m not ill and I can help you. So I am… are we really going to have this discussion again?”

  The look in his eyes made her wonder if she was missing something. He looked down at her in the half-light of the back of the shop and his lips curled into a slow smile.

  “I was trying to give you a chance to rest.”

  “And I will,” she felt her face warm, “when there’s a need to.”

  When he didn’t answer back, she nodded. “Wonderful.” Turning on her heel she started to move across the room, but a warm hand settled on her shoulder.

  “Imogene.”

  Hearing her name on his lips made her pause in more ways than one. There was a way that he said her name, with a soft smile in his tone, that tugged at her heart.

  Even though she’d never had a beau before, or even a boy that she was sweet on, all of the emotions within her was a new and frightening discovery.

  And hearing the softness in his voice when he said her name gave her whole heart a rush of joy, making it pound faster and stronger than it had before she’d come to Bower and met Silas.

  “We can get started on the work,” he offered and she could see him try to ignore the broad grin on her face that signaled her victory, “or I can show you the living area upstairs. You should probably get to know the area before it gets dark and then the only light up there will be from lamps.”

  She thought over his suggestion.

  Truly, she wanted to work. It wasn’t just a passing fancy for her. Imogene truly enjoyed the work of a printer and it wasn’t going to go away.

  And yet, she had a good knowledge of the shop. She could come down later and work on the chase, even in the middle of the night if she wished. Now that she was living at the print shop, she didn’t have to worry about anyone passing by and seeing her inside.

  Turning back, she saw him watching her. His attention was a gentle touch to her soul, something like a balm or a gentle warmth along her skin.

  “Would you show me upstairs?”

  Something changed in his eyes. The color of his eyes seemed to darken the slightest bit as he held his hand out to her.

  Imogene walked to his side and took his hand, enjoying the way he entwined their fingers together.

  “I did my best to clean,” he explained as they walked up the stairs. He urged her up before him, making the difference in their heights easier to manage and because the stairs were just wide enough for a woman in petticoats to pass along by herself. The landing midway allowed him to be beside her for a moment before they continued on to the upper floor.

  Imogene paused when they reached the landing on the second floor, looking down over the open middle of the shop. “I can almost imagine…” she let her voice drift away as her mind swam with images.

  She felt his fingers tug on hers and she turned to look at him. “Hmm?”

  “You could almost imagine… what?”

  Blushing to the roots of her hair she used her free hand to gesture at the open space below.

  “I can imagine waking up and going in search of you,” her words were barely a whisper as if she was afraid of someone listening in, “and looking over this railing to see you hard at work.” The wistful tone she heard in her own voice made both of them smile. “And what you would look like, when I call down to you. Would you look up at me and smile or would there be some other emotion written plainly on your features?”

  He used their joined hands to tug her closer. “I’d smile to see you looking for me. It’s been awhile since someone looked in on me.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m used to too many people looking for me. Finding a quiet space of my own rarely happened.”

  “You’ll likely get a lot of quiet here. Besides the sounds of the printer, you’ll only have to worry about me.”

  She wanted to tell him that she’d like that very much, but he had his hand on the doorknob for the door on the left of the walkway.

  “This is my extra room. It’s been the place where I’ve stored my belongings that I don’t use on a day to day basis.” When she stepped into the doorway she didn’t let go of his hand. She saw a few boxes stacked in a corner and something that looked like a large wooden frame against the back wall. “There isn’t much in here.” She turned back to look at him and saw him shrug. “I didn’t bring many personal belongings,” she heard him explain, “most of the space in my crates were for the printing press, supplies, and cases.”

  She watched him dart a nervous glance at the other door but she didn’t want to comment on it for her own heart was pounding loud enough in her chest that she was sure that he could hear it as well.

  The door swung open easily under Silas’s hand and he gestured for her to enter first. It felt odd in so many ways to be invited in. This was his bedroom, the place where he laid his head every night.
>
  With a slow breath she stepped inside and took her first look at the room. Her trunk was at the base of the bed, her eyes went there first. It felt good to find a familiar item there as if she and it belonged.

  A washstand was the first thing she came upon, standing beneath a small mirror set so high she could look up into it to see her face and the floor beneath her.

  “I was waiting for you to move the mirror. I know you’re petite compared to me, but I thought we would measure it together.”

  Nodding in silence, Imogene took another step into the room and turned to look at the wall beside her on her left. A large wardrobe stood tall and proud against the wood. Complete with brass fittings on the drawers, the ornate piece of furniture looked like a significant feature in the room. Moving forward she touched the front façade with tentative fingers. “It’s a lovely piece,” she told him. “It looks like an heirloom.”

  When she turned to look at him, he nodded. “My grandmother’s. When I was a child, I was taller than the others, much like I am now. So when it was time to play hide and seek, it only took a few times playing the game for the others to realize where I would hide all the time. In the wardrobe.”

  Imogene heard the soft bite of humor in his tone. “It was the only place you could hide.”

  Nodding, he reached past her to open one of the doors so she could see inside.

  Even with his clothing in the wardrobe there was ample space for nearly anything else they wanted to store in it. Setting her hand on the side she leaned in for a better look. “Goodness,” she chuckled and heard the sound of her voice echoing off of the walls, “I could hide in here for a week and no one would find me.”

  When she stepped back and closed the door, she turned to look up at him.

  “You could easily fit the items you have in the other room into the back of the wardrobe. I’ll be happy to help you if you like.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment and then he reached out and set his hand on the closed wardrobe door beside her hand. “I moved those things out so you could put your belongings inside.”

  The gesture was simple, but she found herself profoundly affected by his thoughtful nature. “Thank you.”