It was a subject Hope just didn’t want to discuss.
“I need you to work extra hard today. The weather is going to be nasty from here on out, and I may need your help out in the barn.”
Jacob informed Hope when they were eating breakfast one morning. Hope looked at him in surprise, then looked down at her own swollen belly.
“I don’t know if I can work extra hard, Jake. And I don’t really think I’ll be much help to you out in the barn. The baby is going to be on its way soon, and the doctor says I need to take it easy as much as I can.”
Jake looked at her, evidently surprised she would turn him down on something, then shook his head.
“I thought you said the kid wasn’t going to get in the way of things.”
“I meant he wouldn’t get in the way of our life together. I wasn’t entirely expecting… this.”
Her voice trailed off, and she could feel Jake’s eyes on her. She could see him shake his head out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t say anything else. He finished breakfast without a word and headed outside to the barn. Hope felt her hands shaking from anger as well as nerves. She didn’t want to have fights with Jake like she had with John, but she was getting to her breaking point.
He doesn’t see me. He only sees someone to do the dishes and mind the mending. Well I’ve had enough. I am not going to be his maid anymore! If he wants his clothes mended, he can do it himself.
Hope angrily piled the dishes in the sink, not bothering to scrape off the scraps. She felt agitated, and she was even angrier when she saw the pieces of bread and eggs floating to the surface of her washbasin.
She wanted to just walk away from it all and go to her room. But she didn’t. Hope tied on her apron and pushed through all of the dishes, then pulled her hair up and scrubbed the floor. It was very difficult for her to get down there with her stomach as big as it was, but she got it done.
It took her slightly longer than usual to get all the chores done, but when she finished, she went to her bedroom and closed the door. She didn’t care if Jacob asked her for help outside, she was tired from her work indoors, and she was going to take a few minutes to relax before she started the next meal.
There was a letter on the table by her bed from Anna. She was going to read it when she finished cleaning after dinner, but since she was feeling agitated, she decided now was as good a time as any to read it.
Hope opened the envelope, and to her surprise, nearly five hundred dollars fell on the bed. She looked at it in surprise, then skimmed the note from Anna. In the letter Anna explained how she had finally sold the house for Hope, and all of the things with it. She kept some of the money, and paid the debts, then sent Hope the rest.
Hope say on the edge of her bed, counting and recounting the money. Finally, a smile slowly spread across her face.
This is my ticket out of here. I’m going home.
Chapter 8 – New Beginnings
Hope waited until her next doctor’s appointment to purchase a ticket. She decided not to say anything to Jacob about it, and she would just leave a note for him. It was the same thing John had done to her, and she came through it without too many problems.
It’s not like we’ve even been married very long. Sure, I bet he’ll be a little upset, but he’ll be ok.
Hope decided not to say anything about it to Anna, either. She would just surprise her, and hopefully her friend would be so happy to see her she wouldn’t ask too many questions.
The stage was set to leave the end of the week, and Hope felt a lot better, knowing she would be on it. She kept the entire plan under wraps, and went about her daily chores as usual.
Jacob had stayed inside the past few days to help her with the dishes. She thought it was kind of him, but also found it odd that he did so. He never explained to her why he was helping her, and she caught him watching her a few times when he thought her back was turned.
This made her feel guilty for leaving him as she planned to, but Hope reminded herself that she had to, or things were going to go back to the way they were. It was only going to get harder, with a baby needing her attention most of the time for the next few months, there would be no way she could keep up on the chores, too.
Jacob hadn’t taken much interest in the baby, so Hope assumed she would be taking care of the child all on her own, too. Every time she had doubts about her decision, she remembered how she had been treated by Jake, and her resolve returned.
He’s just feeling guilty as soon as the guilt wears off, he’ll be back to his same old self, and I’ll be back to doing all the work and then some.
Friday morning finally came, and Hope got up to make breakfast as always. Her stage was going to leave later that morning, but she would have time to do the regular chores she always did. She decided she’d leave the note on the table, already set for lunch, so when Jacob came in from the barn he’d find lunch ready and the note explaining what happened.
She had penned the note the night before:
Jake,
Thank you for providing me with a home the past few months. I have been grateful for a place to sleep. With that said, I am not happy here, and I have decided to return home.
I am not going to be the maid of the home any longer, and I wish you the best.
Kindest regards,
Hope
The morning went smoothly, but Hope still felt a twinge of guilt as she laid the note down on his plate. With a final glance of the house, she picked up her bag, and headed out.
Jake never bothered looking out of the barn, so she didn’t worry about him seeing her, and in just a few hours she was sitting on the bench, waiting with a few other passengers for the stage.
San Francisco was huge, and Hope hadn’t had time to make friends, so nobody bothered asking her what she was doing. She was free to wait in peace.
At long last, the stagecoach came into view, and the passengers slowly trickled out. Within half an hour it was ready to go again, but Hope was impatient. She grabbed her bag and got up as quickly as she could in her condition, trying to be one of the first to board.
Suddenly, she heard something. Someone was calling her name.
She looked around, and saw Jacob running toward her. He had leapt off of his black horse, and was covered in sweat.
“I’m so glad I caught you!”
He gasped as he caught her up in his arms.
Hope pulled away.
“Jacob, I’m thinking you got my note, and-“
He held his finger to his lips.
“Let me speak, please?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Listen, I haven’t been the best husband to you that I should have been. I’m sorry I treated you like a maid, you are so much more than that. I didn’t realize how much I had with you, and the more time I spend with you, the more I see how incredible you are.
I won’t leave you to do all the work, I won’t leave you to raise the baby by yourself, and I won’t leave you alone again… will you please not leave me?
I know this isn’t the best way to go about this, but I asked you to be my wife… now I want you to be my bride!”
There were tears in his eyes as he spoke, and Hope felt her own eyes fill. She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She let the tears come, and she nodded as she rushed into his arms.
“Yes, yes! I would love to be your bride, Jacob!” Hope sobbed and they kissed.
“Ma’am, are you getting on the stage or not?”
The driver broke into their thoughts, impatiently holding the horses back. Hope shook her head, and put her arm around Jacob.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid there has been a misunderstanding. My home is here, and this is where I belong!”
The driver shook his head and slapped the reins on the horses. They rumbled away, leaving the dust to settle around Jacob and Hope. They hugged once more, then Jake lifted Hope onto the horse, and crawled up behind her.
“Let’s go home!”
THE END.
Included with this purchase is a collection of Christian Michael Mail Order Bride short stories. I do hope you take the time to read them! Enjoy!
Hannah’s Story
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
Hannah sat in the parlor with the light streaming in through the window, sipping her tea. If someone were to drop by, they might think her the epitome of a high society lady. She was dressed in her best green dress, hat and gloves, just back from church on a Sunday morning. She had politely turned down the pastor’s wife’s offer to join them for supper and she had assured Mrs. Winkle that she had plenty of reserves in her pantry and the walk in freezer to keep her going for months. Of course that wasn’t true. Her father was killed two years ago…just before the end of the war. Her mother’s illness had dragged on for the last year before she passed away, draining them of any savings her father had left in his coffers. Hannah hadn’t been able to work during that year because her mother needed her. The money was gone and the food was almost gone and to put the icing on an already sinking cake…she’d just found out the day before that the home she lived in and thought was hers was heavily mortgaged. Her father had borrowed against it to revive his business. After he went off to war, the business began to fail. After her mother became sick and neither of them could tend to it, the business failed altogether. Hannah had been discreetly selling of their family heirlooms for the past year. Debtors were clawing at the doors and Hannah had nothing that was worth anything left to sell. Within a week she would be out on the street with nowhere to turn. She took another sip of her tea and reached for the newspaper lying in front of her on the table.
Hannah’s best friend Mary gave her the paper. She was the only other soul on earth that knew the true state of Hannah’s plight. Hannah’s pride prevented her for asking anyone for help and because of that, her pride had begun to choke the life right out of her. The truth was that since the war ended, everyone was facing challenges of their own and Hannah felt like asking for help would just be adding another burden to her kindly neighbors who were already as overwhelmed as she.
The newspaper was folded open to the advertisements and one article had been circled with dark ink. Hannah had already read it multiple times…but she hadn’t quite made up her mind what she would do until that very moment. She read it once more:
“Thirty-four-year-old widowed rancher with one child seeking wife/long-term companion/mother for my child. Lady between the ages of seventeen and thirty will suffice. Looks would be appreciated, but not required.”
No matter how many times Hannah read that, she still found herself shocked by it. In the world she used to live in…the one before her parents died and she was still on track for finding a suitable husband before the age of twenty-one, such a letter would have been a source of amusement. It would have been the topic of a dinner party conversation perhaps…or that of a luncheon or a tea. Everyone would discuss this rancher who advertised for a housekeeper and nanny…in the form of a wife. Some would have a good laugh and others would just shake their heads and wonder about the savagery of the west. But that was before…Now, Hannah had to force herself to be pragmatic…she needed the room and board and he needed a wife. Mary was right…it seemed like the solution.
With a heavy sign of resignation, Hannah went over to the desk in the corner. Sitting down in front of it, she took out her stationary and her ink and quill. She stared at the blank page for a long time and then she finally wrote:
May 21, 1887
Dear Mr. Skylar,
My name is Hannah Louise McMurray. I am from a small town in New York and I was given a copy of the Western Chronicle by a friend. I have recently lost both of my parents and find myself on my own without benefit of employment. While having never held employment outside of the home, I am quite adept at the inner workings of a household. I will be honest and admit that I have no experience with children, but with that being said I will add that I am not averse to learning how to care for one. I am well-bred and moderately well-educated as I did attend school up to my tenth year. I am now twenty-three years old. I was an only child and I have never been married nor do I have children of my own although a desire for a family is something that I’ve harbored for a while now.
I hope that is enough information for you to make a decision as to whether I would be a suitable choice for you and your child. I will anxiously await your response.
Sincerely,
Hannah Louise McMurray
Hannah read and re-read the letter at least six times before finally putting it into an envelope. She copied the address from the ad onto the envelope and sealed it with her family seal. She stared at it then for another hour or two before at last taking her parasol and beginning the fifteen minute walk towards the post office. She was halfway there before realizing that it was Sunday and the postmaster wouldn’t be in. She carried the letter back home and sat it on her desk…subconsciously already planning on not going through with mailing it after all. It would seem that fate had different ideas for her, however. When the pastor’s wife Abigail came to visit her the next day and bring the casserole left over from their meal the day before, she kindly took the letter with her when she left. She had to go by the post office herself anyways.
* * *
Luke Skylar beat his dusty boots at the door and took off his dust covered hat before entering the small house. He ran his calloused hand through his black hair and picked up the stack of letters that he had retrieved from the postmaster the day before. He looked at them again, six letters from women he knew nothing about…and tossed them back on the table. He could smell the aroma of freshly burned salt pork coming from the kitchen. Instead of reading the letters now, he would eat breakfast with Lily…after he put out any fires, and then he would think about reading them again.
He found his eight year old raven haired beauty in a smoke-filled kitchen, standing over a cast iron skillet full of salt pork so well done it was practically unrecognizable. She looked up at him with tears in her dark blue eyes. “I’m sorry Pa! I was trying to have this ready for you before you came in. I put the pork on before I went out to get the eggs. Now it’s all black and ruined!”
Luke smiled at his girl. She didn’t seem to know that in his eyes, she could do no wrong. “It looks fine to me,” he said, picking up a plate. “You better check your biscuits.” He could see little puffs of smoke coming from inside the potbellied stove.
“Oh no! The biscuits!” Poor Lily grabbed a pot holder and opened the stove, only to find four biscuits that strongly resembled the coal they sometimes used to fuel it. She pulled them out, dropped the pan onto the table and then dramatically falling into a chair, she began to sob.
Luke put down the plate he’d filled with pork and went over to her. He crouched down next to her and said, “Please don’t cry Lily bug. You did the best you could.”
“It’s not good enough, Pa. You work so hard and all I have to do is tend to a few things around here. I mess at least one thing up a day. I don’t know how you stand me.” Luke looked at his daughter with the same eyes she was looking at him back with.
“I don’t have a choice,” he said, trying not to smile. “The minute you were born I took one look and knew that you’d be nothing but trouble. I tried to send you back, but they wouldn’t take you…” Lily was smiling through her tears.
“Oh Pa, you’ve told me this story before. I know that you’re making it all up.”
“Oh no! It’s true! Every last word. When I couldn’t send you back I rode all the way over to the Cherokee reservation and I asked to speak to the chief.” Lily rolled her eyes and giggled. “I told him I wanted to make a trade…I’d take one of their oldest, most wrinkled up women off their hands if they would take the squalling baby off of mine…and do you know what he said?”
She giggled ag
ain. “No Pa, what did he say?”
“He said that sometimes you find your biggest treasure underneath a pile of stone. So, I should keep you and keep looking for the treasure. Lift up…”
“Pa!”
“Come on, stand up.” Lily stood and Luke made a play of searching her chair. “Nothing there yet…but I’m waiting.”
Still giggling Lily threw her skinny little arms around her father and squeezed. “I love you, Pa.”
“I love you too Lily bug, even if you can’t cook. Let’s see what we can salvage here, okay?”
“I haven’t made the eggs yet…”
“Maybe I should do that, just to help you out…”
She laughed. “Maybe you should. I’m hungry too.” Luke took out another pan and set it on the stove. “Hey Pa…”
“Yes Lily bug?”
“Are you gonna open the letters?” Poor Lily wanted nothing more than a mother. Luke’s wife died six years earlier of consumption when Lily was just a toddler. His wife’s Aunt Mabel had lived with them then and she had taken care of the household chores and Lily. They lost her six months ago to yellow fever. Since then poor Lily had tried to take over the role of the woman of the house…but it was a big task for such a little girl.
“I’ll look at them this evening, Lily.”
She gave him a doubtful look, but she let it go. He had placed that ridiculous ad on a whim because his heart was breaking for his daughter. As soon as he’d done it, he regretted it. He had no intentions in answering any of them. He didn’t really want to read them. He saw the doubt in his daughter’s eyes and the guilt over getting her hopes up began to grow and flourish inside of his chest.
[2016] A Bride's Journey Page 3
