Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
Chapter 1
When the train whistle blew, Cora abandoned her seat on the sofa and hurried to the window. She pulled back the heavy burgundy drapes and sighed deeply. In the dusky light, she could just discern the locomotive as it snaked its way across the tracks toward the Alexandria station. “Look, Hannah! Isn’t she beautiful? I haven’t traveled by train in ages. I’ve quite missed it. And oh my, how the Potomac has risen since the rains! We must walk by the river tomorrow.” She glanced over her shoulder.
Her dearest friend Hannah sat on the sofa in the O’Leary family parlor, her red hair gleaming in ringlets about her shoulders, her freckled face bright with happiness, not much different than when the two were children.
“A walk sounds lovely, although it does make me sad to see how much the waterfront has changed since the war. I scarcely recognize it, even these three years later.”
“I’ve hardly been anywhere in the past three years. Papa was so sick with the consumption. All I could do was nurse him. But memories of our adventures here in Alexandria helped revive me, especially on the very difficult days. Did you think of those times, too?”
“Of course, dear. I remember how you and that twin brother of mine consistently lead me into trouble. Or more often, each other.”
Cora laughed. The sound startled her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. Certainly not since the last time she had visited the O’Learys. Was that six months ago? Nine?
“Do you remember when Mama spanked you both on the train for playing in the engine car in all that coal dust?”
“Oh, stop. That isn’t a pleasant memory!” Oddly though, as she said the words, Cora laughed again. Even the humiliation of that public spanking was a better memory than the war years that came after.
Hannah joined her at the window, tucking Cora’s arm into her own. “It’s good to have you back again, if only for a week. But you’re changing the subject yet again.” She drew back. “Why, you’re positively shaking! Whatever is the matter? And don’t tell me it’s my imagination because I simply won’t believe it. You’ve been here for over two hours, hardly spoken, picked at your supper. And now this--mooning over trains and shivering as if you’ve caught your death. Come back to the fire and tell me what this is all about.”
Cora allowed Hannah to arrange her on the sofa in front of the crackling fire, a brown velvet cape thrown over their laps.
“Is it that horrid half-brother of yours? What has he said of his promise to allow you to apprentice as a nurse?”
Cora’s heart leaped at the words. To apprentice as a nurse was all she had wanted for so long--all her father had wanted for her--that she couldn’t imagine life without it. She closed her eyes momentarily. But forget it, she must. She opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes, it is Edward.” She twisted her gloves in her hands. “He says there is no money to provide for me while I apprentice, that it has all been spent or promised.”
“No money. But your father had plenty upon his death.”
“I know, Hannah, I know. But he left me in my brother’s care. I have no money of my own, except a small inheritance from my mother. Very small, likely not enough to cover my needs.”
“And what does he expect you to do instead? Marry?” Hannah smiled at her own joke for she knew Cora had no designs to marry.
Cora searched for space within her thickened throat to speak. She swallowed hard, then whispered, “Yes.”
Hannah gave a start. “What? You to marry? And whom has your brother found worthy of you?” Her voice was shrill.
Cora shook her head. “It’s too horrible to say aloud.”
“Mr. Jeremiah Bladen. It is him, isn’t it?” At Cora’s nod, Hannah slapped her hands over her cheeks. “My word! I won’t allow it. We can’t let this happen. He was pawing at you when you were little more than a child. He’s evil.”
“Don’t speak of it, Hannah.”
“And what of Mr. Bladen’s marriage? I remember a few years back, you were relieved to hear of his nuptials?”
“He lost his wife to influenza a month after dear President Lincoln’s death. He has three horrid daughters. Oh Hannah, whatever will I do?”
Hannah wrapped her arms around Cora. “My dear, we shall do what I have always done when I don’t have the answers.”
Cora smiled into Hannah’s shoulder, and declared the words at the same time as her friend, “Ask Mama.”
Chapter 2
“A mail order bride,” Cora gasped the words. Even after hearing them spoken repeatedly over the past twenty minutes, she couldn’t accept them. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly. I simply couldn’t. Papa—“
“Your father would approve," Mama O’Leary assured. “He would want you settled and safe. My Matthew can give you that.”
The pit of Cora’s stomach was hollow and swallowing her down fast. She sank into a chair by the Mama O’Leary’s sitting room door.
Hannah laughed. “Oh Cora, you look positively white. Quite the contrast to her gorgeous ebony hair, eh mama?”
“Our Cora has always been lovely, even with pasty cheeks.”
Conversation and laughter wrapped around her. The O’Learys loved both dearly—talking and laughing. She had asked for advice and this was what was offered: A mail order bride. Hannah’s oldest brother Matthew in need of a wife and her in need of a husband.
Years ago, she had known the incredibly tall, auburn haired boy. But she could hardly picture him now, except through the wedding photo that hung on the wall downstairs. She felt nothing for him.
“You are exactly what we need, Cora. In last month’s letter, Matthew mentioned he was in need of a bride to help him raise my grandchildren. Women are scarce in that wild Colorado territory.” Mama O’Leary shuddered.
Of course Hannah had written to her about Matthew’s wife, how she’d ran off and left him and their children, then caught the influenza on the train trip home. She’d died in a Midwestern town surrounded by strangers. A horrible way to go. Alone and far from home. Was that a risk she faced if she accepted Mama O’Leary’s proposal?
But what choice did she have? She wasn’t wealthy enough or strong enough to carve out a life alone. She couldn’t marry Jeremiah Bladen. And she wasn’t afraid of the west--adventure was not a stranger to her; an odd exhilaration filled her chest thinking of the wild territory beyond the Mississippi. Still…
Mama O'Leary continued thoughtfully, “I expect he was joking a bit about placing an advertisement, but I immediately volunteered my services as matchmaker. I promised to find him the perfect mail order bride. Since he didn’t take my advice the first time around, he is quite happy to accept it now.”
“But come, child, this is not a moment to faint away. You will be joining our family and that is a most wonderful thing. But let’s set this aside for now, my rheumatism is acting up, and you give such a lovely massage.”
“Oh, Mama O’Leary, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” Cora hurried to her room and fetched her father’s medical bag. Old habits indeed die hard, as she always carried it just as her father had done. But her mind was a runaway train. Colorado. Matthew. Mail order bride. Jumping on board this new proposal scared her more than anything had in a long time.
After Mama O’Leary was wrapped in warmed blankets, Cora handed her a steaming mug. “Sip this. The medicine and the warmth will ease your pain.” Then she moved blankets aside and began gently administering to the tight muscles.
Hannah’s laughter trilled from across the room. “You never are more yourself than when you’re nursing, are you, Cora?” Then she smiled mischievously. “Or sparring with my brother, that is.”
Cora gasped. “Hannah, you’re awful. Simon and I haven’t sparred since we were quite young.” She carefully repacked her father’s medical bag as she spoke.
Hannah’s laughter rang out again causing Cora to look up. “Quite young, you say? I believe it was six months ago when yo
u were here last.”
Cora laughed in spite of herself. “Oh stop, you. Don’t listen to her, Mama O’Leary, we’re not nearly as much enemies as we once were.”
Mama O’Leary laughed her happiest belly laugh. “Oh, my dear, I can assure you I never perceived you to be enemies.” She sobered quickly and clutched Cora’s hands. “I worry over Simon so much. His feet you know… They bother him more than he says. And he won’t let any of us help.”
Of course, he wouldn’t because he was too self-centered to realize how much his family worried over him, but Cora refrained from saying. “He’s stubborn, but strong. I was there you know, sat with him while father…well, as father helped him.” During the war, her father had amputated four of Simon’s toes on one foot and two on the other. Of all the things she had witnessed during the war, the amputations were possibly the worst. Simon had taken ill directly after the procedure, and she had feared he wouldn’t survive.
Mama O’Leary nodded. “I knew of your help. Your father sent us a telegram and Simon wrote to us of course. Simon writes such beautiful letters you know, has a poet’s gift. It brought us great peace knowing you and your father were caring for him.”
“The little bit of caring Simon would allow me wasn’t much.” Cora huffed. He had in fact sent her away after he stabilized; his words cruel and unforgiveable. “Your son is an awful patient.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, but at his mother’s sad expression, she relented. “But, my father would say the more stubborn the patient, the better he heals.” Both women smiled as Cora meant them to do.
“And with whom have you not been enemies with since you were a child, Nurse Cora?”
Cora startled, nearly falling across her patient as Simon himself walked through the door. His red hair, so similar in color to his twin sister’s hung over his forehead in disarray. His was more naturally curly than his sister’s and far less cared for.
“You were listening at the door then, Private Simon?” Cora scolded, her hands on her hips, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “We didn’t hear you arrive.” She glanced at her companions. They appeared unperturbed to find Simon had listened to their conversation.
“Indeed I was. It is best to silence your feet when you hear yourself discussed on the other side of a door, the better to hear with certainly.”
“An eavesdropper. I should have known.”
Mama. O’Leary’s cleared her throat. “Simon, my boy, you are just in time.”
Simon kissed the jaw his mother offered. “And what time is that, Mama?”
“To congratulate Cora. She is to marry.”
Simon’s eyes darted to Cora, his gaze hard. She stiffened her back. Her future was nothing to him. And she hadn’t decided. Not yet, not fully.
“You are so rarely at a loss, brother. What say you?” Hannah leaned forward in her chair.
“What saintly gentleman have you found deserving of our nearly perfect Nurse Cora?”
“Your brother.”
“My brother?” Simon spoke the words as if he didn’t understand them. “My brother?”
“Yes, you only have the one, you know. I was all set to advertise on his behalf remember, a mail order bride. Your brother is in need of a wife; the children are in need of a mother. And our Cora is now in need of a husband. It’s perfect.” Mama O’Leary clapped her hands together.
Simon turned to Cora, derision evident on his face. “In need of a husband? I daresay I never thought I’d hear those words spoken in relation to our fine Cora. A mail order bride, eh?”
How dare he? Cora turned her back and moved to the window, refusing to acknowledge his scolding.
“Mother, help me understand your reasoning. You sent Elizabeth out west only a few days ago. I escorted her to the train station myself. I thought she was to care for the children.”
What? Cora turned around quickly. Mama O’Leary and Hannah shared a look before glancing away. The eldest said, “Oh Simon, that was mere convenience. Elizabeth doesn’t intend to remain long term, but since the children are her niece and nephew. It seemed a good fit--”
“I didn’t realize Elizabeth had left as well. I won’t be in the way, will I?” The two had been good friends once, before their lives had traveled in different directions during the war; Elizabeth’s family fleeing the city for the south and Cora remaining to care for the wounded with her father.
“Goodness, no. Elizabeth wants to visit with the children. She lost her parents and her sister at nearly the same time. Quite tragic really. She may even decide to stay out west after. Much heartier stock than her sister was.”
This evening had grown too heavy for Cora to bear. She gathered her bag and kissed Mama O’Leary on the forehead. “I’m very tired, I’m afraid. So much to think about, and I’ve only been in town for a few hours. Do you mind if I retire?”
“Of course not, dear. Do rest. We have lots to prepare before your departure.”
The twins bid her quiet goodnights, of which she was relieved. In the guest room, shedding her clothes and climbing into bed required every bit of her remaining energy. She curled into a ball under the cool thick blankets, shivering as she whispered brokenly, “Dear Lord, please assist me in making the right decision. I’m lost in this wilderness and need your light to guide me home. In your son’s name I pray, amen.”
Chapter 3
On the morning of her departure, Cora awoke early after tossing and turning all night long. She couldn’t marry Matthew. She simply couldn’t. Although the thought of returning home to her brother was terrifying, she couldn’t in good conscience move away as a mail order bride. She would tell Mama O’Leary and Hannah first thing.
She dressed quickly in the drafty cold, then hurried downstairs. At the entrance to the parlor she gasped and pressed her hand to her chest. “You startled me,” she exclaimed.
Sitting by the fire, Simon arched a brow. “I do live here you know.”
“Yes, of course I know. We have dined together for nearly two weeks now.” A week of uncomfortable silences and frosty glares from across the table. Simon had taken it upon himself to disapprove of her as his future sister-in-law. “I meant I didn’t expect to see you up and around this early in the day.”
He said nothing, but returned to fixing a knot in the laces of one of his boots.
Cora’s gaze fell to his wounded feet. They must hurt, especially as the cold weather set in this time of year. If she could soak them, perhaps massage them, it would ease his pain and improve the circulation.
He glanced up and intercepted her gaze, his shoulders stiffening along with his mouth. “Did you wish to see them, Nurse Cora? Admire your handiwork? Curious as to how they turned out?”
Cora gasped. “Don’t be ridiculous. I simply wondered how you are doing.”
His chin lifted higher. “Quite well, Nurse Cora, quite well. Are you prepared for our journey?”
What did he mean? “Our journey? Are you accompanying me to the train station then?”
Simon was silent as he studied her. Then he smirked. “Hannah must have neglected to tell you the good news. I will be your guide and protector on your journey west.”
“Guide and protector?”
“You wouldn’t want to marry my brother without me present, would you, Nurse Cora?”
Cora glared. “You could not have told me? There was plenty of time between the silences we have shared of late.”
He smiled with complete superiority, then stood and offered his elbow. “I didn’t see the need. Now, shall we go into breakfast?”
She lifted her chin and shoved her arm through his--perhaps more roughly than was necessary. Not until she was seated at the breakfast table did she remember her reason for entering the parlor so early. A buzz of excitement swept through her as she realized she was, really and truly, headed west today.
Chapter 4
At the station, Simon immediately joined a group of men standing near the tracks. Cora stood with the only other trave
lers she knew: a young couple from the O’Leary’s church who were moving to St. Louis with their two small children. She realized that within a month, she would be part of a family very much like theirs.
The thought renewed her uncertainly. She paced in front of the station attempting to ease her troubled nerves. Perhaps a glimpse of the river before the train arrived would help. She turned down a short alley that would afford her a view. Immediately, a man stepped from the shadows. He boldly grasped her arms within his iron fists. “What?” She cried out.
Jeremiah Bladen glared down at her. “Trying to get away, dear Cora? Your brother and I have an agreement. I don’t intend to change it.” He swung her around as if she was little more than a sack of laundry and positioned himself behind her.
“You’re going back to your brother’s house now, until such a time as we marry.” He began to drag her down the alley. His arms were wrapped so tightly around her, she could scarcely breathe.
“No! I’m not marrying you. Never.” She dug her feet into the hard dirt and tried to twist her body out of his grasp.
He drew back and shoved her hard against the building. Pain raced through her skull as it slammed into the brick. Two bruising slaps to her face followed. Gasping, she raised her hands to protect herself.
“Silence! I won’t stand for such behavior.”
Suddenly, Cora’s mind cleared. “Simon! Simon!” she screamed, but found herself competing with the train whistle. As another blow struck her face, she closed her eyes and sank to the ground. Please God, help me. Jeremiah picked her up roughly and began striding away from the station.
Feet pounded behind them and abruptly, she was let go. She fell to the ground with bruising force, eliciting another cry from her lips. But she dragged herself up quickly and whirled around. Simon. His face was nearly as red as his hair. His hands were busy rolling up his sleeves.
“Are you hurt?” He asked tersely, sparing her only a quick glance.
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