“We spoke on the train the other day,” said Rachel.
“Why yes of course. I remember you now. I apologize, my mind has been so worried about Emmitt.” Angela remembered the conversation very well but not the girl’s face so much. “And how do you know my baby brother?”
Rachel braced herself, for whatever reaction she would receive she felt unprepared to be as open about this marriage yet. To be honest about it with such a stranger that was now technically her own family felt strange and unnatural to her. It was unlike her to feel the need to be private or secretive but she chalked it up to the changes that happen when you fall in love with someone.
“Well, I am his wife,” she said.
A look of shock and disbelief graced Angela’s face. Surely her baby brother would never marry such a young girl without informing his family. Certainly not a trollop like this, she thought. She would deal with this later, for right now she knew that Emmitt was in need of his sister’s help.
***
December 23
A week passed before Emmitt recovered from his fever. The doctor who came could not diagnose the particular illness or the cause of it. The delirium was what frightened his sister and Rachel the most. At times he would call out desperately to Margaret.
“Margaret, where are you? Please come back.”
During these moments Rachel would catch Angela staring at the picture on the mantle. These were the only times Angela appeared to be overwhelmed with emotion during her stay. Rachel could tell Angela was obviously very fond of Margaret. More fond of her than she ever will be of me, she thought.
However, with round the clock care from his sister and his new wife, Emmitt was recovering at a good pace. The doctor said that his progress was very encouraging and all hopes were being placed on his health returning in full before Christmas. This news filled the house with feelings of hope and Pally now took to sleeping on the porch during the day as he did before Emmitt became ill.
Emmitt was now able to have conversations with both Rachel and Angela without falling asleep or slipping into a feverish dream. Still though, he was not quite himself. He had been frightened that he would die and he was not convinced that he was out of the woods quite yet.
“I am so grateful that you have been here to care for me Rachel. I am sorry if I have been a burden to you,” he said half exhausted.
“Hush Emmitt. What is a wife for if not to be with you in sickness and in health?” Rachel said with an honest smile.
“Has my sister been as kind to you as she has to me?” he asked.
“Oh yes she certainly has. I’m afraid we haven’t had much of a chance to talk about anything other than you though. She has been so worried about you and your condition Emmitt.” Rachel held out both of her hands to hold his before adding, “as have I.”
“In time you will get to know each other surely,” he said. “You are family now after all.”
Rachel sensed that Angela disapproved greatly of their marriage and even her presence in the house. Still maintaining her pride as an excellent judge of character, Rachel assumed that Angela was just being protective of her baby brother. As she should be with all that he has gone through, she thought. She knew it would take time for Emmitt to regain his strength and it would take time for Angela to come around and trust that their marriage was going to bring Emmitt much happiness. She had the patience to see this through.
“How wonderful to have a family,” Rachel said before planting a gentle kiss on her husband’s forehead.
***
December 24
Angela entered her brother’s room early the next morning to bring him a breakfast she had prepared. She was also fully dressed, including her coat, as she brought in a heaping plate of bacon, eggs and toast. She looked as if she was on her way out into town.
“Oh Emmitt, my dear brother. What have you gotten yourself into?”
Angela sat on the bed next to Emmitt as he began devouring the breakfast she had prepared for him. His appetite had returned to a state of near insatiable hunger as of yesterday and that was a tremendous relief to everyone. A full belly would help him regain his strength.
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Emmitt with butter from the toast dripping down his chin.
“That woman who calls herself your wife,” said Angela. “Where did you find her? Why am I, your sister, only finding out about her when you are near death?”
Emmitt felt embarrassed by his sister’s chastising of him. He had not intended to keep it a secret but felt no need to share the fact that his wife married him without loving him initially. He did not know whether he would have woken up on any given morning a few weeks back to find Rachel gone, leaving him and Pally behind.
“Angela, I have been so lonely since…” he stopped himself. His feelings were too much for him to explain. “I believe that Margaret would want me to remarry and be happy again.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said furiously. “Do you know that I met your new wife a few weeks back before you yourself even met her?”
Emmitt was confused. He could tell by the tone of her voice that Angela was about to tell him something he may not want to hear. But what choice did he have? Angela was going to say whatever she felt she needed to say. She had a lack of subtlety and she was not going to let Emmitt’s illness stand in her way of telling what she believed he needed to hear.
“That woman looked me straight in the eye and told me that she does not believe in love,” she began. “Do you know that she was raised in a city orphanage? What kind of manners do you think they teach children there? I love you dear brother and I do not want you to be lonely, but that woman is a stranger who is unfit to replace Margaret. A girl like Rachel is only after a man like you for your wealth.”
“Angela, I’m not replacing Margaret,” Emmitt said. He was starting to get emotional and Angela could hear it in his voice. “Rachel is a wonderful girl who has stood by me through my suffering and all she has asked for in return is my love.”
Angela stood up from the bed and made her way to the door before turning around to say, “mark my words Emmitt. That girl is from the gutter and will steal everything from you.” She paused, leaving an awkward silence in the air before laying the final blow. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself Emmitt Townshend. I’m sure that Margaret is rolling in her grave.”
Emmitt sat there in silence, stunned, staring at his sister.
Angela cleared her throat and wiped a tear from her eye. “I have to go now. I have been here long enough. My husband and children are expecting me for Christmas. We will be back to see you in the New Year. Merry Christmas Emmitt.”
“Christmas?”
“Yes Emmitt, it is Christmas eve.”
Angela’s words haunted Emmitt that night as he tried desperately to forget the things she said. Am I trying to replace Margaret? Would she really be ashamed of me?
He had been grieving long enough to know that these thoughts would pass just as the long nights do before the sunrise. The one thought that he could not stop from thinking had nothing to do with Margaret at all though. He could not stop himself from wondering about Rachel.
Would Rachel really love me if I did not have this home, this farm, or any of the financial assets that I do? And what good are these things if I cannot share them with a wife who will love me?
***
December 25
Emmitt barely slept that night. He could not imagine going on with life without truelove to lean on in good times and bad. All he could think was, I need to escape it all.
Rachel was planning to cook a full breakfast for Emmitt and herself on Christmas morning. She woke early and made her way from her pink room to the kitchen. She had gathered the bacon, eggs and sausages while the water boiled for tea. The note was left on the kitchen table for Rachel to see when she began to prepare breakfast that morning. She was unsure of what it was. Maybe a clue that will lead me to a surprise Christmas present, she thought.
Her heart sank as soon as she read the first line.
Rachel,
I thank you for everything you have done for me these past weeks since you came into my life. You have been lovely and kind to me. I am leaving you this home and the farm because I have no desire to keep them. My possessions are keeping me from knowing if I could be loved without them.
I will be travelling by train, to where I do not know. I must search to find a new place to call home, for I am unsure where my heart belongs here with you.
Please ask one of my sisters to take care of Pally.
Emmitt
Rachel dropped the letter and ran to the barn faster than she had ever run in her life. She was still in her nightdress with nothing on her feet. The sun had yet to rise fully at this point in the morning. She intended to take one of the horses to the train station in an effort to find Emmitt before it was too late. She had no idea how to ride a horse properly, but that was a thought that had not even occurred to her at this point. All she knew for sure was that she had to get to the train station. Who knows if he has left yet or not?
As she rushed into the barn she was alarmed to find Emmitt about to saddle one of the horses. She was immediately struck by the sadness in his eyes. His entire demeanor was different. He looked defeated, but Rachel still recognized the man she loved behind weakened physical appearance. It’s not too late, Rachel thought to herself.
“Emmitt, wait please,” she shouted aloud, “take me with you.”
Her shouting startled Emmitt but the sound of her voice woke him out of his sad hazy state. Hear she was, outside and barefoot on Christmas morning, showing concern for him. Still, he was skeptical of what he was hearing her say.
“Take you with me?” he asked.
“Yes!” she shouted, near hysterical at this point.
Emmitt was stunned and confused. He briefly wondered if he was having another feverish dream but abandoned the thought when he saw Rachel shivering.
“You would leave all this behind for me?” he asked.
Rachel took a deep breath and without batting an eye declared, “Yes. My heart belongs to you now.”
Emmitt could feel his heart expanding as though her love was projecting directly to it. Rachel began walking steadily towards Emmitt. A smile was forming on her face as tears rolled down her cheeks. She took another deep breath in effort to steady her voice and said, “Wherever you go I will be with you.” She put her hands to her chest over her heart and said, “My home is with you.”
Emmitt dropped the saddle as he and Rachel rushed toward one another. He could see the tears streaming down her face as he reached his arms out to catch her as she jumped into his arms nearly knocking him backwards into a small stack of hay.
“I love you Emmitt Townshend,” she whispered into his ear. And at the sound of those words Emmitt pulled his head back to look Rachel in the eye before passionately kissing her, as though this act of affection would erase all of the loneliness he had felt since being widowed.
After this kiss concluded Rachel placed her hands on the sides of his face and pleaded, “please be my husband.”
Emmitt was so emotional that he could not speak. He held her tight and nodded his before kissing her again. He then quickly and smoothly swept her up off her feet and into his arms as he began to carry her back to the house.
***
The sounds of laughter began filling the house as Emmitt carried Rachel through the front door. The happy couple went to the living room where the sisters had decorated a small Christmas tree while Emmitt was still ill. Pally was found to be lying happily before the fireplace this Christmas morning. As Emmitt bent down to pet his dear dog Rachel was already in the kitchen preparing the morning tea.
“I am so sorry dear that I don’t have any presents for you this Christmas,” said Emmitt. “As you know I have been a little under the weather.”
“Don’t be silly,” she responded as she placed two steaming cups on the living room coffee table.
Emmitt held his cup for a long silent moment before raising it up and outward, a move that immediately roused the attention of his wife. She was happy to be back inside of the house with Emmitt where it was warm but she was still a little nervous due to his emotional state. He looked calm and at peace for maybe the first time since he had picked her up at the train station. And so, with his cup already raised in the air, he stood up and placed his other hand over his heart.
“I would like to propose a toast,” he began. “To my beautiful wife, Rachel, the most wonderful gift I could receive this Christmas.”
“And I would like to propose a toast as well,” Rachel added. “To my wonderful husband, Emmitt, the man who showed me the meaning of true love. Merry Christmas.”
The happy couple smiled at one another, savoring the fact that the future ahead of them looked bright. Rachel had thought of a gift she would love to share with Emmitt next Christmas. She was fairly confident that he would approve and that it would bring him joy as well. She wondered, is it too soon to bring it up? Of course the answer was no, it was never too soon for Rachel to be honest. She decided that she would bring it up during dinner that night.
“Emmitt,” she said. “I have something I want to tell you and you don’t have to say anything back right now if you are not ready to.”
Emmitt was unsure of how to respond. He nodded for her to go ahead and speak.
“Emmitt, I would love for us to adopt a child next Christmas,” she said. “Perhaps we might find one named Margaret.”
“Nothing could make me happier Rachel,” Emmitt said immediately as he felt tears in his well up in his eyes.
“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to upset you dear.”
“No Rachel, you don’t understand. These are tears of joy,” he exclaimed.
The couple stayed up until midnight by the fire before retiring to bed together. They found that even after all the time they had spent together, building a bond in the last month, they still had so much to learn about one another. They were now ready to share in their lives together, as husband and wife, and to provide a loving home for a child. Some would call this true love, but to Emmitt and Rachel it was their own Christmas miracle.
*****
THE END.
Western Love
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
Chapter One: Run-ins
California, 1885
Constance Lowell allowed her father to help her from the carriage, lifting her skirts to keep them from the mud that lay along the roadways.
“Be careful pumpkin,” Mr. Robert Lowell said as he held his daughter’s arm to save her from slipping. “If you ruin that dress your mother will have my hide for certain.”
“I’ll be careful, papa.”
“Good,” he smiled. “So Rupert, tell us more about this clothing company.”
“Yes, sir,” Rupert Merchant said with a solemn nod of his head. “The Bethel Clothing Company was founded on a street corner during the Great California Gold Rush. With no more to work with than rags, the owner’s wife would sew them into worthwhile breeches for men to purchase at half the cost of buy them brand new. As time went on, she garnered enough sales to purchase new material. Still, she kept her prices low and business poured in. By the time the gold rush lost interest, Mr. and Mrs. Smitz had built up enough revenue to purchase this here building and the acreage that surrounds it. It’s in the process of being passed down to their son Jameson, but as he’s away in college, there’s no telling when the transition will actually happen.”
“Can we take a more detailed tour of the facility?” Constance asked, her green eyes clearly interested in how a clothing company ran from the inside.
“Absolutely, Miss Lowell.”
She followed her father inside and gasped at the intense heat inside the building. Almost immediately it became harder to breathe and she started to sweat. She brought out her fan and began fanning herself as she scanned the workers. For the most
part they looked worn thin, their bodies adapted to the life of hard labor. But when her eyes fell on a child who couldn’t have been more than seven, pushing around a car to collect garments in, Constance felt an unspeakable rage rush through her. She marched up to the foreman, taking leave of her father and demanded. “Does Mr. Smitz condone letting children labor in a sweat shop like this?”
“Excuse me, Miss?”
“I asked if Mr. Smitz supports the idea of letting children work in a sweat shop, doing no doubt, work meant for an adult?”
“Mr. Smitz wants efficiency and there’s no better way to get it, than the way I’m doing it.”
“I demand to speak with him.”
“Constance,” Robert Lowell said, a grin on his face. “Leave the man alone. He’s got a business to run.”
“Absolutely not, father. I beg your pardon, but I cannot stand by and watch a child suffer under the constraints that are barely tolerated by full grown men and women. He’s seven, maybe. How is it fair to ask that of him?”
[2015] Cowboy for Christmas Page 11
