Mail Order Bride--Latham's new wife

by Kate Whitsby

  “Aye.” Sorcha sat down and took up a skirt of Annis' that had a tear in the hem and began to thread a needle.

  “What would you say if I told you that Denny knew a fella who might be likin’ to enjoy your comp’ny?”

  “I’d say I don’t particularly like drinkin’ men.”

  “He’s not a drunk. He works on the boats. He’s a little older than Denny but still strong.”

  “So he’s got one foot in the grave but can still chop wood. Sounds delightful.”

  “Sorcha.” Annis shook her head. “Won’t you at least meet the lad?”

  Sorcha looked at her sister and saw dark circles of worry beneath her eyes. There was something else to this conversation, but Annis wouldn’t come right out and say it. This was how Annis acted when their father had turned ill. Mother had already been gone and father, brave and stubborn as he was, refused help from anyone. But when the coughing wouldn’t stop and his legs wouldn’t support his body anymore, instead of saying “Sorcha, papa is dying” she tossed around a bunch of suggestions about going to stay with the Latham widow or perhaps crossing over the island to a visit a cousin that she had met once at age four.

  “What’s the matter, Annis? Be honest with me, now.”

  Annis looked around and tears showed in her eyes. She bit her bottom lip then let her hands flop at her sides in frustration.

  “Denny thinks it's time you settle down. He wants you to be happy, Sorcha. Just like I do. But, well, it’s goin’ to get crowded around here once the baby comes and...”

  “Baby?” Sorcha clutched her heart. Of all the catastrophes and disasters she ever envisioned putting her out of house and home, the arrival of a new baby had slipped her mind. “Of course a baby. Annis, you’re goin’ to have a wee one runnin’ ‘round? Saints be praised.”

  Sorcha got up from her chair and all but ran to her sister, hugging her tightly and smoothing her hair down.

  “Aye, Annis. If Denny’s got a codger for me to meet, well, bring ‘im over. If it’ll make you happy, and that wee angel in yer tummy, then I’ll be only me most charmin’ self.”

  “Would you do that fer me?”

  “Please tell Denny afore me nerve takes flight.”

  *****

  It didn’t take long for Denny to arrange for Mr. Liam Murphy to stop by the house for sup.

  The whole day Sorcha paced the floor. Having washed her face and dabbed a few drops of rose water behind her ears she had become a sweaty mess from a combination of nerves and physical exertion before the men had made it halfway home after working on the dock.

  “He won’t be noticin’.” Annis urged. “His sense of smell probably already been damaged after so many years on the dock and smellin’ fish. Now hold still while I fix yer frock.”

  “I don’t know why you’re botherin’. This was a mistake.”

  “No it wasn’t. Now just relax and let me pin this brooch at the collar.”

  Annis insisted her sister wear the bright green frock she had brought all the way from Scotland that had yet to see the light of day.

  “It’s complimentary.”

  “What?” Sorcha looked at her sister with a screwed up face, her mouth twisted over to the right while her nose appeared to jog left.

  “It brings out the green in your eyes and makes your hair look even darker. See? Complimentary.”

  Before Sorcha could protest and slip back into one of her normal, frumpy brown or gray frocks both girls looked at each other, holding their breath.

  “Annis?” Denholm called. “Annis, we got company.”

  Annis kissed Sorcha on the cheek and dashed out the bedroom door closing it behind her. Sorcha contemplated climbing out the tiny window but was certain she’d get stuck. She could pretend to get sick. Some ugly, horrific obstruction of the bowels keeping her in bed and away from visitors might just be the ticket. But before she could settle on a scheme to get out of this misery, Annis called her name.

  Pressing her ear against the door she listened and heard Annis talking and Denny talking, but no word from the mysterious Mr. Murphy.

  Curiosity got the best of her. With slow, deliberate movements she wrapped her hand around the doorknob and gave it a twist. Pulling the door open she heard awkward silence and felt a twang of guilt for her sister.

  Before she could change her mind Sorcha began walking. Turning into the sitting area she saw Denny, her sister who was smiling pleasantly and finally Mr. Liam Murphy.

  Both of them made their mind up about the other within a matter of seconds. Sorcha watched as the man’s eyes climbed up and down her body avoiding her face at all costs. Then, like a dog looking to its owner for protection, Liam looked to Denny and gave him a slight shake of the head.

  Funny how Mr. Liam Murphy thought he was in a position to bargain for something. He sported a long, unkempt beard that was more gray than red and eyes that were more red than anything else. He was wide in the shoulders and his body, although old did remain straight, tall and strong. But the years of hauling nets, yanking ropes and gutting fish had made his hands into permanent claws.

  “Mr. Murphy. My sister Sorcha.”

  Sorcha took a timid step closer and extended her hand.

  “I’m sorry but I mus be goin’. Denny, thanks but no thanks.”

  Without another word the old man patted Denholm on the arm, slipped past Annis stared in wide-eyed amazement at the lack of manners and walked past Sorcha without even looking her in the face as he left. The door slammed closed with an eerie finality.

  “Well, that went better than expected.” Sorcha joked, but no one laughed. Letting her breath out she turned and went back to her room to remove her green frock and put Annis' pearl pin back where Annis had had it in the top dresser drawer.

  She couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Denholm and Annis.

  “What are ya mad at her fer? She got dressed up and everythin’.” Annis scolded.

  “That was our last hope.”

  “Denny, she’s me sister. What would you have me do? I can’t just throw her out in the cold. She’ll never survive on her own.”

  “She won’t if ya keep treaten’ her like a child. Is it my fault the Lord dealt her the cards he did? I can’t have a spinster clinging to my foundation when we’re tryin’ to start a home and family together.”

  “But Denny, what would I tell her? We don’t want her? Like she’s a stray dog that can just move on to the next house and the next?”

  “Tell her the truth. That with the baby coming we just won’t have the room. My own mother is taken ill and won’t have long on this earth. But I’m not proposin’ we move ‘er in here just because she’s me mother.”

  “Denny, that isn’t fair. You’ve got two sisters takin’ care of yer mum. Sorcha, she doesn’t have anyone.”

  “That isn’t my concern, Annie.”

  A few moments of silence went by. Sorcha’s heart broke and her mind reeled as she wondered what she was going to do. This turn of events wasn’t a complete surprise.

  The news of the baby made her realize that she might have to make some adjustments. But, as with all emergencies she just wished for a little more time. But that wasn’t likely. Squaring her shoulders she opened her door and went into the sitting room where Denny stroked his long beard and Annis wrung her hands nervously.

  “Don’t, my darlin’.” She soothed her sister. “Your Denny is right.”

  Denholm’s eyes widened and he folded his arms across his broad chest. He must have expected wailing and crying and was prepared to stay strong against that. But to have his homely sister-in-law agree with him, that he had not prepared for.

  “Sorcha, it isn’t fair. I brought you here to America. You could have stayed in Scotland, at home where there were people you knew.”

  “No, no. Do you think I would have been able to sleep at night knowing you were on that boat all by yourself? And when I think of how you fared with green skin and your head hanging over the bou
gh, you needed me there. But you don’t need me anymore.”

  “Yes. I do. Sorcha.”

  Looking up several inches to Denny’s face Sorcha walked up to him and put her hands on her hips.

  “My sister is all I have. You’d best take care of her. She’s goin’ to get big. And mother’s to be get cranky so she’ll be even worse sorts than usual.” Her teasing tone made Denholm grin. “You got to tend to her. But, you big brute, you are right. It’s time I find my own way.”

  “Well, we aren’t givin’ you the boot this very night.” Denny shrugged. “I’m not a bully.”

  “No, Denholm. I know yer not.” Sorcha patted his bearded cheek gently. “She’s the bully.” She winked her beady eye and jerked her head in her sister’s direction. “I’m jus askin’ fer a little time.”

  “Of course, my darlin’. Of course.” Denholm whispered.

  With weepy eyes Annis proceeded to set the dinner table and took every opportunity to touch her sister’s hand or hair or squeeze her around the waist.

  Dinner was quiet but comfortable as everyone ate, Annis eating second helpings as she patted the small bump in her stomach. After the meal the fireplace roared and crackled making the room warm and cozy as Sorcha picked up her evening embroidery and Annis dozed in her chair. Denholm puffed on his pipe, the sweet smelling tobacco mingled with the smell of burning wood making the house smell as her home in Scotland had smelled. She hadn’t noticed it until now that there were a good many things about Denholm that could be found in Annis and Sorcha’s own father.

  Pushing herself up, Sorcha stretched.

  “I’ll be off to bed now.” She whispered pointing to her sleeping sister. Denholm nodded and gave her a wink as she turned and headed down the hall. Closing the door gently she felt her way to the bed in the dark. A full white moon shone through the window giving her enough light to get undressed and slip into her night clothes.

  She sat down on the edge of her bed hearing what had become the familiar squeak of the springs beneath her weight. Tears filled her eyes and her breath hitched in her chest as she kept her sobs quiet. The last thing she wanted was for Annis to wake and hear her. But it broke her heart that she was causing problems between them.

  What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? Why hadn’t she talked with Annis and made some kind of compromise?

  As she had often done Sorcha let her mind drift back to the Oceanic. In her mind she guided the ship, calling orders to the first mate and ensigns as the massive vessel glided across the water. Her heart stopped pounding so madly and her breathing settled. Drifting into sleep her dream took her somewhere new. It wasn’t just a replay of leaving the lush, green shores of Scotland or spying the rocky gray port of her new home of Massachusetts. It was a brand new place that was green but there was snow and someone whispering welcome home.

  *****

  Denholm left while the sky was still dark as he had done every day. But Annis didn’t rise to get the fire burning or coffee as she had usually done. Instead, she called for Sorcha.

  “Oh, sister, I’m feeling like I was back on that boat. Me stomach is tossin’ and turnin’ and I’m afraid if I stand I’ll be flat on me face before I can take a step. Denny said I ate too much, but now I can’t imagine eatin’ a bite.” She rubbed her tummy.

  “That’s mornin’ sickness. You’ll be just fine. You let me tend to the chores this mornin’ and I’ll visit in town to get you some chamomile tea jus’ like mum used to.”

  Before Annis could protest Sorcha was dressed, her broad brimmed hat covering most of her face as she wrapped a gray shawl around her shoulders.

  Stepping out of the cozy house into the early morning Sorcha felt good. The journey into town took Sorcha past a pleasant stretch of tall grass that undulated like green waves complimenting the water that was rolling back and forth against the rocky shore. After that there were tall trees unlike any of the trees that were around her home across the pond. They were thick and dark providing shade from the sun and a brilliant balcony that was alive with sweet singing birds and playful squirrels that flipped from branch to branch.

  Finally, after the woods were the docks and the beginning of the town. The road became muddier and everything seemed to speed up. Clutching her shawl with one hand and her coin purse in the other she made her way to the boardwalk in an attempt to find an apothecary.

  She saw a kind looking man in a tweed jacket and brown trousers, twisting a rather impressive mustache.

  “Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where I might find the apothecary?”

  The man studied her face with gross fascination then shrugged his shoulders without uttering a word and walked away.

  It was a different experience coming to town alone compared to having Annis with her. Annis, just as she had taken to being a wife, had taken to life in this bustling city enjoying the gentlemen who would open the doors for her and the ladies in their finery who would nod to her and smile pleasantly admiring her beauty. Sorcha would travel behind her sister or hold her arm hanging behind her slightly, peeking from underneath her hat as she had done for so many years.

  But alone with just her own face and manners she was finding the whole experience to be nerve wracking. More and more people were filling the streets and sidewalks. There were signs hanging from the buildings with odd sounding names. After several twists and turns Sorcha finally found a store that sold teas as well as small niceties and fresh apples.

  With her money she bought the chamomile for Annis plus two apples, one for her and another for the baby, one for Denholm and the last for herself. She also saw a newspaper. Grabbing it she added it to her purchases. The cashier was a skinny birdlike man who wore tiny round spectacles that made his eyes unnaturally big. He studied Sorcha with a wrinkled nose and handed her her change back carefully, his gaze never leaving her face. She smiled crookedly thanking him, taking her bag of treasures with her. As she stepped back out onto the sidewalk she realized she wasn’t sure in which direction she should travel.

  Suddenly, nothing looked familiar. Everyone and every building looked the same. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she tried to retrace her steps.

  “If you can get to where there is a view of the sea you can find yer way home, darlin’. “ She soothed herself. Now, just which way was the sea?

  “Meow.”

  Sorcha looked down.

  “Well, look at ya. What’r ya doin’ on this busy street? Ya lookin’ to get flattened?”

  Bending down Sorcha scooped up the handful of gray fur with green eyes that had settled itself at her feet.

  “Can ya tell me which way it is to the sea? If you do, me thinks there might be a treat in it for ya.”

  “Meow.”

  “This way? All right. We’ll go this way.”

  Whatever it was about the kitten gave Sorcha a boost of courage. The little beast snuggled contentedly against her ample bosom with a nonstop purr that reminded her of the sound of the engines on the Oceanic.

  To anyone passing her by Sorcha looked like she was talking to herself when really she was talking with the kitten.

  The sidewalks didn’t seem so scary with her little companion and before she knew it she had found her way back to the docks.

  “Aye. We made it.” She rubbed the kittens head with her gloved index finger. “How about we rest for a wee bit. Let's look at what we bought.”

  Taking her apple out of the paper sack, Sorcha took a big bite. The sweet, crisp taste was like a banquet as she had left the house without so much as a scrap in her stomach. Pulling a tiny bit of fruit from her bite she gave it to the kitten who licked it before gobbling the piece into her mouth.

  Taking out the newspaper Sorcha began to read the headlines. She and Annis had practiced reading and writing before coming to America and she had become very good at it if the words weren’t too long.

  But like a blazing headline Sorcha saw two words that made her heart leap. Matrimonial News.

&nbs
p; Her eyes scanned the advertisements and fell upon one in particular that she had to read out loud.

  Lonesome farmer wants wife to share homestead and responsibilities. Looks unimportant. Please respond to Latham Teeds, Rocky Creek, Montana.

  She snuggled the kitten.

  “Looks unimportant.” She mused. “A farmer. Well, that sounds more me speed. I’m not enjoyin’ this busy town. What do ya think?”

  “Meow.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinkin’.”

  Finishing her apple and folding up the newspaper Sorcha stuffed it in the bag and felt a renewed energy as she started on her journey back home.

  “Well, I could leave ya here if ya like?” she said to the kitten as she placed her on the ground.

  “Meow.”

  “I’ve got to be gettin’ back and pen me letter to this here gentleman farmer.” Sorcha started to back up. But the kitten advanced.

  “Meow.”

  “If you go over to the dock I’m sure there’ll be some fresh fish for ya. You’ll get good and fat.”

  “Meow.”

  Sorcha turned to walk but heard the pitiful meow behind her. She stopped, turned and looked down. Blinking eyes like jade the little beast wiggled its bottom and then launched itself into Sorcha’s arms. Nestling back where it had been at the beginning of their journey it closed its eyes and began to purr.

  “Well, I guess yer comin’ with me.”

  Without thinking Sorcha held her head high, swinging her bag of groceries in one hand and holding her purse and kitten close to her with the other. In her head she worked out the details of her reply to the farmer in Montana.

  *****

  “Where in heaven is Montana?” Annis rubbed her belly nervously as she sat by the fire.

  “It’s west. About as far west as you can go.” Sorcha smiled. “You look worried. Don’t be worried. I’ve heard of people travelling across the prairie for land. Annis, this is your life here. I’m not cut out for the hustle and bustle of this place.”

  “What do you mean? You fit rit in with me. When Denny said you needed to go I don’t think he meant across the prairie.”

  “It don’t matter what he meant. I want to do this. Will you help me pen a letter to Mr. Teeds?”