by Jill Maguire
As he took his place behind the pulpit, the room quieted right down and the three grooms walked to the front of the church. Reverend Bradshaw nodded to a woman standing to his right who cleared her throat and began to sing. As her sweet voice delivered the words of a well known hymn, the first of the three brides made her way slowly down the aisle taking her place beside her new husband to be.
They were simply adorned in dresses of pale colors and each carried a bouquet of prairie roses and wildflowers. The grooms had obviously dusted off their Sunday suits for the occasion and shaved off their usual growth of facial hair. Every single one looked as skittish as a street dog and ready to run at any second. The women looked equally nervous but much more confident.
He made sure the ceremony was simple and quick to put all of their nerves to rest. In just a matter of minutes each new groom was smiling as he led his new bride out of the church and off to whatever location they had chosen for their wedding night. Most he assumed, would simply go home.
As the preacher walked among the crowd, shaking hands and congratulating the newlyweds, he tried to seek out those friends he thought might take the challenge of finding a mail order bride along with him. He hoped he could convince them that maybe it was high time the local business men had some of the luck that seemed to be befalling the farmers and ranchers.
He had no idea of course, how the whole thing worked and that is why he needed his friend’s advice. Heck, he didn’t even feel comfortable asking a woman if he could court her. Mind you, he hadn’t had much practice at it either since most of the womenfolk in town were already married.
Within a few minutes of pulling his two friends aside, he had the answers he needed. Both had beat him to it, already finding out as much as they could about it all, thinking that they might just give it a try.
Apparently Harriet Johnson, the postmistress had come up with the whole idea to help her widowed brother find a new Mama for his youngsters. She had heard about some newspaper in the east that had started allowing men to advertise for brides, and she decided to start a local business doing the same thing.
She accepted letters from interested men and matched them with letters she received from ladies who responded to ads she put in papers across the country. She carefully read each and every letter and did her best to match the couples up. Once she thought she had a good match, she turned the ladies’ letters over to the men and they continued their own communication from there, arranging to meet where and when it best suited the two of them.
It all sounded pretty easy and by the end of the day, the good reverend and his friends had decided that they too would compose letters to give to Mrs. Johnson.
Alone in his parlor after the wedding fuss had all died down, Ethan took out his pen and a fresh sheet of paper. He had absolutely no idea where to begin or what kinds of things to put in his letter to make some complete stranger want to rush out to the little town of Bent River, Montana and become the wife of a simple preacher. In the end, he decided all he could write were the facts, and so he began.
To Those Fine Ladies Looking for a Husband,
I am a man of the cloth. 28 years old, average height and slim build, with brown hair and eyes, looking for a wife who is dedicated to her lord and church and interested in living a quiet country life. I have the means to care for a wife and family, although it would be a simple life for sure.
If you think this sounds like a life you would enjoy please send me your reply.
Yours in Good Faith,
Reverend Ethan Bradshaw
There, it was done. He would take his letter to Harriet in the morning.
Chapter Four
Cassie pulled Blue to a stop in front of the house and looped the reins over the low branch of the gnarly apple tree that stood at the foot of Granny’s garden. Glancing up, Cassie spotted the remnants of an old tree fort that she and Granny had tried to build. It never had worked out very well but she had loved it nonetheless.
She remembered taking her favorite dolls up there for tea parties. Granny claimed from the beginning that her old bones wouldn’t permit her to climb up into the small space, so she would often sit on a blanket under the tree reading a book while Cassie played. Now it was nothing more than s few rotten boards nailed across two crooked branches. Nostalgia tugged at Cassie’s heart. If being outside the farm was this hard, how was she ever going to face going inside.
With a heavy sigh, she squared her shoulders, stuck out her chin and headed up the creaky porch steps. Memories tore at her heart everywhere she looked. The old porch swing swayed ever so slightly in the breeze, but in her mind she was sitting there rocking away beside Granny as she told her all about how mean Belinda Greene had been to her that day, teasing her about having no parents.
She remembered sitting there to share happy times too, like the day Billy Bedford asked her to the Christmas dance, and the day she got word that she had passed her teaching exam. She couldn’t remember a time when Granny wasn’t there to listen.
The window boxes were full of wilted plants that would have been a riot of color under Granny’s tender care. Cassie could almost feel Granny standing there showing her how to tenderly pick off the dead blooms so the plants would flower all summer long.
Even the weathered paned glass window gave her pause. She could hear Granny laughing and cheering as the two of them sat in the cozy window seat watching rain drops run down the glass. They would each pick a drop and pretend they were racing against each other down to the sill.
In time, Cassie knew these memories would bring her comfort, but right now the pain was all she could feel. Pushing open the old wooden door, Cassie stepped inside. The house still held its familiar scent of lemon polish and dried lavender. Granny grew a large patch of lavender every year for drying, and this year’s bunches were tied and still hanging to dry in the kitchen.
Cassie plucked one bunch from its nail and held it to her nose, breathing deeply of the earthy scent that was all Granny to her. One quick look around the kitchen told her she would have very little to tend to. Granny had obviously been well enough to keep up the house until the end. There was not a single dirty dish in the sink, not a single thing out of place. The furniture was covered in a fine film of dust that would have sent Granny scurrying for her dust rag, but other than that everything was spit spot, as she would say.
“Oh, Granny,” Cassie whispered out loud. “What am I going to do without you?” Her words hung in the stillness of the kitchen. Wandering from room to room, Cassie quickly determined that the only real chore to be done inside, was the packing up of Granny’s personal things. If she decided to sell or rent the farm, the sale would include all furnishings, aside from any that she wanted for herself.
The outside of the farm was an entirely different matter. In the descending darkness, Cassie stepped off the porch and took a quick look around. The house was in desperate need of a coat of paint, and several windows needed repair. The roof needed patching in a few places and the wooden steps of the verandah all needed to be replaced. Cassie knew very little about the business of selling property, and she wondered if all of the fixing up would have to be done before she could sell it.
Sensing her presence outside, Blue suddenly let out a whinny that startled Cassie from her thoughts. “Sorry, girl. Guess you would like to get settled in the barn wouldn’t you ?” she unhitched the wagon and led Blue to the barn.
Unlike the house, which was well kept inside and in need of some exterior work, the barn was in dire need of both. Granny hadn’t kept any livestock for the past few years and the neglect was apparent. There were more than a few gaping holes in the roof and Cassie could barely pry open the warped and worn door.
Weeds and brambles created an almost impenetrable fence around the perimeter and wild vines clawed their way up every wall. Cassie was glad that it was summer, and that Blue would be safe enough inside. But should a new buyer have livestock to house over the winter months, the barn would need a l
ot of repair completed first.
Coaxing Blue inside, she scrounged around for some hay to feed her, and some straw to throw down in the stall, making a mental note to pick up some of each on her next trip to town. With Blue as comfortable as possible, Cassie headed back inside.
It was almost completely dark now and Cassie was grateful that Granny had kept the kerosene lamps full. She lit one in the kitchen and the sitting room and got the woodstove fired up. Then she set a kettle of water on for tea. Granny’s pantry provided the basics for a simple dinner of beans and biscuits.
With a bit of nourishment in her stomach and a fire crackling in the stove, Cassie relaxed and let herself ponder the days ahead. First on her agenda, was a visit to the cemetery. After that, she would ride into town and visit the lawyers to settle up Granny’s affairs. Hopefully by then she would have an idea of how long she would be staying so that she could buy only the supplies she needed.
Suddenly exhausted from the long day of travel and the emotional upheaval of coming home, Cassie doused the kitchen lamp and carried the other into Granny’s small bedroom. The smell of lavender lingered in this room as well. Granny had always slept with a sachet of dried lavender under her pillow, insisting that it promoted restful sleep and pleasant dreams. Running her hand under the embroidered pillow case, Cassie was not the least bit surprised to find a small sachet tucked there.
Crawling under the cozy hand stitched quilt, Cassie let the sounds of the nightingales lull her to sleep. She had learned long ago from Granny that sleep was the best answer to a troubled soul, and that a new dawn would bring a new light to existing troubles.
Chapter Five
Ethan opened his eyes to the sun streaming through the window and a lightness in his heart that he couldn’t explain at first. He felt like he often did after a particularly good sermon that he knew had touched a lot of hearts, maybe even winning a lost soul or two over to the Lord. But this was just an ordinary day. So why was he feeling so happy? Then he remembered the letter and his plan for happiness. Today he would take his letter to Mrs. Johnson. Today would mark the beginning of a new life and maybe an end to his loneliness.
He hurried to dress and make himself presentable. He also needed time for prayer just to reassure himself. After a simple breakfast of porridge and coffee and a few moments of quiet contemplation, he was ready.
He reread his letter, and satisfied that it said all that was important, he folded it carefully and tucked it into an envelope. With it safely ensconced in his jacket pocket, he headed out of his small house.
He had originally wanted to live in town, closer to the church, but this house had been the only one available upon his arrival to Bent River. Now that he had settled in, he found he rather enjoyed his distance from the town. It provided him with the quiet and solitude that he needed to write his sermons. He had no need for a big wagon, but he did invest in a very nice carriage and a handsome brown gelding named Pete. With Pete hitched up, he was ready to begin this new adventure.
Harriet was busy inside sorting the letters that had arrived for folks on the early stage. She smiled when he walked in and greeted him warmly.
“Good morning, Reverend. What can I do for you on this fine day?”
Ethan cleared his throat, removed his hat and stood twirling it in his hands. “Well, I…..” he stammered.
“Preacher Bradshaw, I do declare,” Harriet broke in. “I do believe you are at a loss for words.” Ethan couldn’t help but notice the funny little smile the she tried to hide as she held out her hand.
“Mathew and Johnnie were just here,” she said with a small laugh. “They told me you would be coming by. Let’s have it,” she continued, wiggling the fingers of her outstretched hand.
Ethan shrugged sheepishly and reached into his pocket for his letter. He handed it to her, still at a loss for words.
“I hope it’s satisfactory,” he finally stammered, all the excitement he had felt earlier now replaced by nerves. Harriet took the letter and smiled her reassurance.
“Just leave this with me and I’ll let you know when I have some letters for your consideration. There should be a new batch on the stage this afternoon or tomorrow. Relax, Reverend. Lord knows, a man like you needs a woman by his side, and I’ll do my best to make it happen.”
Ethan thanked her and hurried back outside, in dire need of some air. He paused on the steps, breathing deeply to calm his jitters. He had a burial service to oversee next, and it certainly wouldn’t do justice to the deceased for him to deliver his sermon in his present state.
Folks were already gathered by the grave as he approached the small community cemetery. The service today was for a young man who had died unexpectedly from an unknown medical condition. He had been working out in the mines for a time and lived with his just his Pa on a small claim that they found years ago. Not many of the townsfolk knew them well, but they had turned out in pretty good numbers just the same to pay their respects. That’s just the way things were in Bent River. Folks cared, and they helped one another.
Ethan took his place among the guests, nodding that he was ready to begin his service. He spoke a few words of comfort and faith, hoping that his words would bring peace to the young man’s father. It was hard to say much about the boy since Ethan had only met him once or twice. They didn’t make it into town for church services or town events, only travelling in on occasion for supplies. He did his best, however, and hoped that the man would find some solace in his words.
Before walking away each of the townsfolk offered words of comfort to to the boy’s father. Ethan left him too, for his private time at the grave. As he turned to leave, he noticed a small figure kneeling by another freshly dug grave across the way, under the big lilac bush. He headed in that direction, wondering if he might offer some comfort to this grieving soul as well.
Chapter Six
Cassie slowly opened the gate of the small fence that surrounded the cemetery. It wasn’t hard to find the big sprawling lilac bush and the small white cross that looked so new. No green had started to sprout yet over the mound of fresh earth and Cassie dropped next to it, letting a handful of dirt run through her fingers.
“Oh Granny. Whatever am I going to do without you? I have no one left now. I miss you so.” Her tears flowed anew and dropped on the brown earth turning each little spot a darker where they fell. Cassie felt no shame in crying, and let the tears come. But when a quiet voice spoke from behind her, she hurried to brush them away. Turning towards the soft sound, she looked up into a pair of concerned brown eyes that were already familiar.
She and Ethan Bradshaw had been friends for a long time. While she was finishing school and taking her teacher’s test, he was away in the east studying to be a minister. He had returned to lead the congregation in Bent River just as she was leaving to teach in Blakeford. Granny had always been quite fond of him and for a time, had secretly hoped they would start courting. But time and distance had kept them apart, at least until now.
“Cassie? Cassie Edwards?” Ethan reached out a hand to help her stand. “It’s been quite some time. I am so sorry for your loss. Your Grandmother was a wonderful lady.”
Cassie smiled in spite of her sorrow. “Thank you, Reverend. Granny was quite fond of you. It is nice to see you again. I’m just heartbroken that I didn’t get to Granny’s burial. Did you oversee it?”
“I did. I think everyone in town was there. Your granny was very loved and well respected. You needn’t feel guilty about not attending. There is no way you could have known what was going to happen. Your Granny wouldn’t want you to feel bad. It was the Lord’s decision to take her home and she would want you to accept that.”
Cassie nodded, wiping away a few new tears brought on by his kind words. “Thank you. Would you mind saying a few words with me now that you are here?” Ethan nodded and took her small hand in his, while they prayed for a few moments together.
“Thank you again, Reverend. I’m glad you were here. I feel lik
e I’ve at least said a formal good bye now.”
“Please call me Ethan. We are old friends after all. Is there anything else I can do?”
Cassie shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I have to head into town now and visit the lawyer’s office to finalize Granny’s affairs. I must get things straightened away so I can return to my teaching position in Blakeford.”
“I understand. If there’s anything at all I can do, please let me know. You can usually find me in the church.” They walked together back to their wagons and headed off.
Cassie pulled her wagon to a stop in front of the sign that read Morgan Fitzgerald, Attorney at Law. She was so dreading this part, and hoped that there was nothing too complicated involved in what she had to do. She just wasn’t up to dealing with a lot of legal ramblings.
Mr. Fitzgerald greeted her himself as she entered the building and Cassie sighed with relief at the sight of him. She had been expecting a stuffy, unfriendly, no nonsense kind of man with little patience for such small matters as her Granny’s would be. Instead she found Mr. Fitzgerald to be most jovial and kind, and quite sympathetic.
“Miss Edwards,” he said, standing and reaching out his hand. “Thank you so much for coming in. I am sorry it has to be under such sad circumstances. I’ll make it all very quick and painless so you can get on with things.”
Cassie smiled and nodded as he pulled papers from a folder on his desk. All she had to do was sign the deed to the farm. He also gave her the information she would need to withdraw Granny’s small amount of savings from the bank.
“That about does it,” he proclaimed as Cassie handed him back his pen. “Will you be staying on at the farm?”
Cassie shook her head. “I haven’t quite decided what my plans are for the future but I intend to stay out at the farm for a few days at least.”
