The hurried to the barn, and Toby suddenly turned to face her.
“Now, I want you to go in front of me, and I am going to cover your eyes. Don’t worry, there’s nothing in the way for you to trip on, just walk in a few steps, and stop when I say.”
“Toby?” She asked, but he shushed her and walked behind her, covering her eyes from behind.
They walked into the barn, and Toby stopped.
“Are you ready?” He asked, and she nodded.
“Look!”
He lifted his hands off of her eyes, and Jessie blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the barn. There, right in front of her, stood the most beautiful cradle she had ever seen. It was carved out of mahogany, and stained with a chestnut stain.
“Oh Toby!” She cried.
“Do you like it?” He asked, concerned, then continued. “I wanted to make you something special for your little one, Jess.
Listen to me. This is hard for me to say, mostly because I don’t understand it myself, but I love you Jessie. I really do. When I was young, and I saw the pain my father felt when my mother passed away, I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love.
I wanted to save myself that pain, until I met you. You changed everything for me, Jessie. You are so beautiful and so kind and so charming. I just couldn’t help it. I fell in love.”
Jessie felt her throat get tight as he spoke. She had never dreamed this is what he was doing out here in the barn, and the fact that he told her how much he loved her made her feel like she was on top of the world. All she had wanted when she came out here was to find love, and now she had.
“Toby I-“ She began, but he interrupted her.
“Don’t anything. I don’t want to hear you say anything. All I want is the truth. I know I haven’t been the kind of husband you deserve, and I know I wasn’t the man you thought I was when you moved out here, but I have to know… Do you love me?”
He looked anxiously into her eyes, and waited.
A smile slowly spread across Jessie’s face, and she had tears in her eyes as she nodded.
“Yes, I do love you Toby. I do!”
Jessie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and he gently lifted her up off the floor. She felt complete at last. Her child was going to be born into a home filled with love. A home that was happy. A home that was ready for a baby.
Toby paced back and forth in the living room. Jessie had gone into labor earlier that day, and now the doctor was in the room with her, and all he could do was wait for the news. He wished there was more he could do to help; this waiting was driving him crazy.
He could hear Jessie making noise in the other room, and he prayed she would be ok. He couldn’t shake the fear of losing her out of his mind no matter how hard he tried, and he wouldn’t feel better until he knew she was ok.
After what felt like hours, the doctor finally appeared in the door. Toby turned quickly, though he stayed in the middle of the room.
“You should be very proud, Mr. Mathews,” the doctor said as he wiped his hands on a towel.
“You have a new son. Mother and child are both just fine, would you like to see them?”
Toby hurried into the room to find Jessie holding a small bundle in her arms. She looked up and smiled as he came into the room, and he kissed her. He reached out and took the little baby in his arms, and kissed his son on the forehead.
Jessie smiled at the sight, and laid back on the pillow. She had never been so happy in her whole life, and she knew no matter what happened next, she was going to be ok. She had her son, she had Toby, and she had love. Everything in life was absolutely perfect.
She wouldn’t change a thing.
THE END.
The Christmas Cowboy
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
I didn’t see it coming. I should have; but I didn’t. That morning appeared like any other. I woke up at seven ‘o’clock sharp, slipped on a pair of blue overalls, and skipped down to the barn to feed the cattle. The walk from the house was only five to eight minutes but that morning, it felt like an hour. It was unbelievably cold which turned my brisk walk into a slow crawl. The atmosphere itself seemed put-off by what it was producing. I could barely tell whether it was night or day. It was almost as if one of the clouds had decided to gobble up the sky leaving behind nothing but its light blue streaks to remind us of its once rich color. Maybe it was a sign from God. Looking back now, maybe he knew the trouble that this day would bring me.
Another alarm should have gone off in my head as soon as I entered the barn. All of the troughs had been filled. There was no way Papa had done it; his job in the morning was tending to the crops. My little brother, Ethan, wasn’t even an option; he was still too little to carry the buckets in from the silo. That only left one possible candidate; Mama. Her cheap perfume wafted around the stable and up to the rafters. I was surprised the animals hadn’t become intoxicated; she had turned the place into a gas chamber. Despite her efforts, there was still one trough that I knew would be untouched. My mother, even on her brightest days, refused to go anywhere near the pigs. So I walked over to the silo and filled a bucket with corn and soybean. On my way back to the barn, a voice cut through the cool layer of fog.
“Brooklyn! Breakfast!” I didn’t need to see anything to know it was him. His husky tone was enough for me.
“Coming, Papa!” I hollered in return.
I finished feeding the pigs and ran back over to the house. There was no one sitting on the porch. This should have been my third warning. Papa had always waited for me on his rocking chair before heading in. I remember brushing the thought away, almost like it was nothing. How could I have been so naïve? Stepping into the house, I kicked off my boots and trudged into the kitchen. There, I had come face to face with the fourth and final sign. On a normal day, Papa and I were the only ones at the table. Mama would be busy knitting or she would have made a trip into town or anything else to help her forget the fact that she had married a farmer. Poor little Ethan would be kept on a short leash, at her side, at all times. Mama didn’t want him turning out like I did: just another farmhand. That morning, however, everyone was already at the table and, noticing by the way Mama looked at me when I stepped in, they had been waiting for me.
“Papa, what’s wrong?” I sat down across my father, begging for an answer. He refused to utter a word.
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart? Here, I made scrambled eggs.” Mama eagerly pushed a bowl in my direction.
I helped myself to some breakfast but continued to look at Papa, waiting for an answer. He poked at his bacon, still not making a single sound. It was like that for a while; everyone was quiet. At one-point Mama took out a compact mirror and a blush set. She started fixing her makeup in the middle of breakfast. It just went to show how eager she was to take part in her family's lives. Ethan snickered across from her, obviously amused by the task at hand. The week before, he had pointed out to me that the only other person that he had seen apply makeup was one of the clowns at the circus. We only ever took him to one show but he seemed to remember every moment almost like he had experienced it just days before. I glanced over at him, a huge grin sliding across my face. However, Ethan's cheeky attitude wasn't enough to cut through the tension that morning.
"Bethany," Mama smiled, "your father and I have some good news."
"Good news." I repeated, rolling the words around in my mouth. They just didn't seem right coming from her.
“Yes.” She clapped her hands together, eagerly. “Good news.”
“Ah-huh…” I nodded, not too convinced
“Common honey, don’t sound so surprised.” She frowned in disappointment. “Just here me out, okay?”
Her eyes narrowed into a tight squint. Mama eyed me carefully but I didn’t bother fighting her. I let out a long sigh, stretching my arms out beside my empty plate. It was my signal for her to continue. Plus, part of me actually wanted to hear what she had to say. Fina
lly realizing that she had the spotlight, Mama decided to take her time. She uncoiled her curly brown hair from its prison of a bun. Then, helping herself to another slice of bacon, she spread her napkin out across the table and refolded it onto her lap.
“Well,” she took a deep breath and spoke in a hushed tone, “a couple of weeks ago, I paid to put an ad in the Parisian Times.”
“What kind of ad, mother?” I asked in an icy tone. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Something big was coming; I could feel it.
"Mama found you a husband!” Ethan blurted before slapping his own hand over his mouth. The entire table went silent. I felt my heart skip a beat. She found me a husband? A husband? By, doing WHAT!? Putting an ad in the newspaper? What did that make me; a mail order bride? Were my parents actually trying to sell their only daughter?
"Now Ethan, dear, it's impolite to yell at the table.” Mama reached across him and snatched the salt shaker like nothing had happened.
My voice lowered to just louder than a whisper, "Mama, what's he talking about?"
She didn't say a word.
"T-tell me he's lying." I stuttered, "Tell me that Ethan's playing a joke or something."
Her eyes darted around the room. She, herself knew that she had done something unspeakable.
"So… what? You’re planning to ship me off to some random stranger half way across the world just so you can earn some quick cash?" My words began to seep with venom. I could feel years of pent up rage surging through my veins. This wasn’t the first time the subject had been brought up. Every time I heard my name and marriage in the same sentence, I would never hesitate to change the subject. However, this time, things were different. This time, it was actually happening.
“That’s the thing, sweetheart. He’s not just some ‘random guy’” she insisted, curling her fingers into air quotations. “He’s an honored American Soldier. He’s practically a hero where he comes from. I’ve been telling his parents – Mister and Missus Williams – all about you and I’ve even sent them a few dozen photos. They say that you have plenty in common with their son, Andrew, and that he’s eager to meet you as well. Isn’t that fantastic?”
“No mother. No it’s not” I grimaced.
“Beth, honey, most girls your age are already married. Don’t you think it’s time that you settled down? I’m only looking out for your future.” She tried desperately to plead her case.
Mama wasn’t always this traditional. She used to tell me to chase after my dreams and do what I thought was right. Those trips into town she would make weren’t always entirely selfish. Mama used to purchase nursery rhymes and fairy tales from the used book store on Brewer Street. Growing up, I remember her sneaking into my room each night after Papa fell asleep just to read to me. Be it Cinderella, Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty, all of them would end the same; with Mama telling me to leave room for ‘true love’. She pushed the idea that I should do what I love and, only if it was meant to be, somewhere down the road I would meet my future husband. She stopped reading to me when I turned sixteen. She never said anything, nor did I ask why but in that moment, I finally understood. Mama never meant a word she had said. I was a child, so she filled me with what she thought was child-like ideas; ones that she hoped would never threaten her perfect plan for my future. Now that I’m older, she wants to just rip the Band-Aid off ignoring why it was there in the first place. I wasn’t about to let her get away with something like that.
“You hypocrite…” my voice went down to a whisper.
“Bethany, don’t talk to your mother like that.” Papa snapped
“But Papa, I-” I began to argue.
“No buts! Jesus Christ Beth, you’re almost twenty! It’s time to stop acting like a child!” He yelled. Papa never yells. The table fell silent. Ethan, who was now shaking, slipped his hands over his eyes. Mama couldn’t stop fidgeting in her seat. She devoured her bottom lip and began to wrap tendrils of hair around her fingers. I watched them both carefully before shrinking back into my chair.
“Listen,” Papa sighed, clearly regretting his actions, “the boy went as far as to send you a letter.”
He slowly pulled an envelope from his front pocket and placed it onto my empty plate.
“We didn’t ask him to send it, you know.” Mama butted in.
“Marilyn, let me do this. You’re not helping the situation” Papa said, firmly. He looked me dead in the eye, “He’s making an effort and we all know that, being an American and all, he doesn’t have to. The least you can do is provide him with the same courtesy. Will you do that for me, Beth?”
I nodded. Having to fight with Papa was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.
“Thank you.” He forced a smile, “Now, why don’t you take this letter up to your room and give it a read. Your mother and I will finish up your chores for the day.”
Without uttering a word, I snatched the envelope and marched up the stairs. I hadn’t seen it coming but I should have. There were so many signs that lead me to that point. Not once did I stop to question what was happening; nor did I put up a good fight when it finally happened. So, now here I am. It’s the next day and I still haven’t touched the letter. Mama convinced Papa to take me off farming duty for the entire week. Lord knows she was happy when he said yes. Although getting out of my work was a nice thought, it occurred to me that I had nothing else to do. My entire day was devoted to sitting in my room, staring at the unopened letter, and driving myself insane over this crazy idea of a marriage.
At about six ‘o’clock, Papa called me down for dinner but I declined, claiming I wasn’t hungry. I sat on the edge of my bed, deep in thought. The truth is, I just didn’t want him to find out that I hadn’t read the letter yet. Letting Papa down was probably one of my biggest fears. Mama, on the other hand, I wouldn’t particularly mind at the moment. Only a half hour passed before Ethan snuck his way into my room. It was obvious she had sent him.
“Hey Sissy, are you still not hungry?” he chirped.
“Save it,” I murmured in reply, “I know Mama told you to come up here.”
He let out a deep sigh which unexpectedly drew a smile to my face. Although it may be strange for a ten-year-old, Ethan was an old soul. At times, I found him oddly humorous. He was a man walking around in a boy’s body. He continued to speak and all I could do was grin.
“You know; we’re just looking out for you.” He droned on, “One day, you’re going to leave the nest and you won’t need us anymore but today is just not that day.”
“Oh, I see.” I raised an eyebrow, “And what day is it exactly?”
“Umm, I don’t know” he looked at me, sheepishly. Ethan’s always had trouble remembering the days of the week. But, who could blame him? Papa never pushed schooling and, being farm folk, we never needed to know what day it was. For us, there was only planting season and the harvest.
“That’s okay.” I patted the bed beside me, “Why don’t you come sit?”
He nodded before making a swan dive into the sheets. I flew off, hitting my butt hard on the wooden floor. A sudden yelp escaped my lips. Ethan shot up from his spot on the bed and rushed over to my side. His face was a mixture of fear and concern. I stared into his eyes for a brief moment before we both burst into a fit of laughter. And, when we started, we couldn’t stop. At one point I felt tears cascade down my cheeks. Ironically, the funniest part was that it wasn’t that funny.
It had been quite a while since he and I had laughed together. When Ethan turned seven, he had finally begun to understand the world around him. The two of us could have proper conversations because he could finally understand me and relate to what I was saying. It produced some of the happiest moments in my life. Going to town, I was always ridiculed for being the “farmer’s daughter”. The city kids considered themselves too good for me so they never gave me a second glance. On the bright side, when Ethan was born none of that mattered anymore. He became my anchor. Mama saw that. She saw how strong he made me so her
only choice was to take him away. Ethan had as much say in the matter as I did and I sure as hell knew that Papa wouldn’t do a thing. After all, Ethan was the new man of the house. He wasn’t to be contaminated by my dangerous ideas of free will.
After years had gone by, a thick layer of negativity had settled over mine and Ethan’s relationship. However, that didn’t mean that I didn’t miss him. I still had so much to say to him; so much to show him. Sitting there with Ethan made me realize how overdue all of that positive energy was. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t funny; we were just looking for an excuse to blow off some steam and drive the tension away.
“My stomach hurts.” Ethan grinned while laying himself across the floor, “It hurts, but in a good way.”
“I know what you mean.” I moaned, placing myself beside him.
He cleared his throat before speaking, “Beth, I’m sor-”
“Don’t.” I cut him off, “It’s not your fault that Mama’s being senseless.”
He turned on his side to look at me, “I know you hate this whole idea but don’t you think that you should at least give it a shot?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’s crazy and new. How do you know it’s going to be a bad experience?” He sat up and looked me in the eye, “The answer is you don’t. You don’t know, not really; not unless you give it a try. And hey, if the guy is a butt head like you think, who says you can’t tell him to bugger off?”
“Thank you. Oh wise one,” I smiled at him, “how did you ever get so smart?”
“Well,” he threw an arm around me, “I learned from the best.”
I hate to admit it but Ethan had a point. After Mama stopped by to take him for his bath, I tore open the envelope. I had to at least see what this man was like. Taking a deep breath, I began to read.
[2016] Finding My Cowboy Page 23
