by Kit Morgan
The bell above the door rang, and his head jerked up from the ledger he’d just opened. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, disappointed. He’d hoped it was his mother or aunt.
Unfortunately, it was neither. Bernice Caulder strolled into the mercantile, chin up, back slouched (as usual), and marched straight to the counter. “Good day to you, Morgan,” she greeted in her pert little voice. “My mother sent me for some flour and sugar … and gave me extra money to get something for myself,” she added, a dreamy look in her eyes.
Eunice Caulder, her mother, was thin as a rail with a hawk nose and dark eyes. Bernice was just as willowy, but with a less vulture-like face. She’d had her cap set for Morgan for as long as he could remember. Last time she’d come into the mercantile, she’d tried to kiss him when no one was looking!
Morgan took in her puppy-dog eyes and tried not to grimace. “I’ll get your flour and sugar for you. How much did your mother want?”
“Five pounds of sugar,” cooed Bernice, never taking her eyes from his. “And fifteen pounds of flour. I’m afraid it will be far too heavy for me to carry home. Would you help me?”
A shiver went up Morgan’s spine at the request. “I might have to bring it out to your place later. I’m the only one minding the mercantile at the moment.”
“Oh,” she said and pouted her lips. “That’s too bad. Maybe I can wait here with you until your mother or father comes back?”
“No, no,” he said as he waved a hand at her and turned to get the sugar. “I don’t want to keep you from your business.”
“But being here is my business.” She leaned over the counter as far as her thin frame would allow. “My only business.”
He caught the predatory look in her eyes, and tried not to groan. He got the sugar, then the flour, and put the sacks on the counter. Without thinking, he asked, “And what else would you like?”
Her face lit up. “Do you really want to know?”
Morgan took a step back. What was it with this woman and her relentless pursuit of him? “Don’t you need … something to make for Christmas?” he stammered.
“Oh, I’ve made all my presents already. I don’t need anything.”
“Well then, if you don’t need anything, I’ll get back to work.” He turned to the shelves behind him and prayed she would leave. The silence, however, told him she hadn’t. He looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, she was still there, still with that bovine look on her face.
He came up with an inspiration. “Bernice, could you do me a huge favor?”
“Anything you want, Morgan!”
“Could you find my mother and aunt? I don’t know where they went – they left before I got back from … from lunch.”
“I did see them heading down the street earlier,” she confessed.
“You did? Where were they going?”
“It looked like they were heading for the doctor’s house.”
“The doctor’s house?” he said in alarm. Had something happened to Miss Evers? Wait, why would he think of that? Miss Evers left before he did, and he was with her most of the time he wasn’t here. Had something happened to his father?
“I can go see if they’re still there, if you like,” Bernice volunteered.
Morgan sighed in relief. “Would you? That would be most helpful.”
Bernice shrugged. “I would think my service as messenger is worth at least a half a dozen lemon drops,” she gave him that dreamy look again, “or a kiss.”
Morgan held his breath. “Of course, no problem.” He quickly turned, got her the candy, put it in a little sack and handed it to her. “For your trouble.”
Bernice stared at the bag in front of her a moment before she snatched it out of his hand. “Thank you, Morgan,” she said stiffly as she left.
Morgan breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her. Could his day get any worse? At least Bernice didn’t know anything about his mother getting him a mail-order bride. He didn’t think he could make it through her wails of disappointment. Or would it be more like weeping and gnashing of teeth? He really hoped he’d never find out.
Four
Winnie Adams sat and watched Daisy eat her sandwich, finish her coffee and pay for her meal. Afterward, she escorted her out of the café and down the street toward the church. “You’ll love living in Independence,” she assured Daisy. “I haven’t been here very long myself, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Daisy walked beside her, her satchel in one hand, and looked at the town around her. Independence was, indeed, a far cry from New Orleans. Obviously, it was a great deal smaller. But everything was well-kept, clean and orderly-looking – none of the squalor of a big city here. There were no grimy children in the streets, no pickpockets or sneak thieves. Yes, she could get used to living in a place like this, even if she wasn’t married. Perhaps she did have some hope, and would survive this horrible misunderstanding.
“Winnie,” Daisy wondered as they continued to walk toward the church, “did Luke think it was a terrible mistake when he found out you were supposed to be his mail-order bride?”
“He was a little surprised. But as I told you earlier, by then he and I, well… we’d already started to fall in love.”
“I see. I suppose I’d better decide what I’m going to do.”
“Decide?” Winnie said. “You don’t know what’s going to happen yet.”
Daisy laughed. “I know perfectly well what’s going to happen. Mr. Tindle is not going to marry me, because he didn’t expect me to be here in the first place. I’m going to have to find a place to live and get a job – otherwise, I don’t know what’s to become of me.”
Winnie stopped and looked at her. “Miss Evers … Daisy, you can stay with my husband and me if you like, and I know you’ll find work.”
“Do you know of anyone who’s hiring?”
“I know they could use another waitress at the café. What sort of work can you do?”
“The usual things; I can cook, sew, clean…”
“How well can you sew?” Winnie asked as she started walking again.
“I made the dress I’m wearing.”
Winnie studied her frock as they strolled along. “It’s very nice. There’s a dressmaker in town, Mrs. Simpson, who might want some help. But never mind that – the first thing to do is to get you settled somewhere, then speak with Mr. Tindle about his intentions.”
“He intends to send me back to New Orleans,” Daisy said with a flash of anger. “And I have no intention of letting that happen.”
Winnie didn’t comment, and Daisy didn’t expect her to. After all, what could she tell her that she didn’t already know? It was quite obvious that Mr. Tindle didn’t want her there, but Daisy was prepared to deal with that. She wasn’t the type to cry over spilled milk or, in this case, a worthless marriage contract. But that didn’t mean she was out of the woods yet. Or that it didn’t hurt …
When they reached the parsonage, Winnie stopped at the porch steps. “Luke is probably working in the church office. Let’s take your things up to your room, then I’ll introduce you.”
Daisy glanced at the church next door. It was pretty and bright, just like the rest of the town. The more she saw of Independence, the more she wanted to stay. But she didn’t want to stay alone. However, there was nothing she could do about that right now. She’d just have to muddle through and make the best of her circumstances.
She nodded and smiled, then followed Winnie into the house. The parsonage was quite roomy; the bedroom Winnie gave her airy and bright. It was a far cry from the dark and dirty walls of Winslow, or the place she’d lived in before that had burned down. She shuddered. She still had nightmares about the fire – the other children’s screams and the flames, all intermingled in darkness and orange light – and after one it often took days to still her mind. One more reason she never wanted to return to New Orleans, ever.
Daisy set her satchel on the bed and unpacked her few belongings, then
left the room and went downstairs to find Winnie. She found her in the kitchen, making them both a cup of tea. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here,” she told her hostess. “You’re one of the kindest women I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you,” Winnie said. “You’ll find that most of the people here are quite nice, including Mr. and Mrs. Tindle, Morgan’s parents.”
“I didn’t have much of a chance to speak with Mrs. Tindle. I did meet her sister, though.” Daisy turned away as a shudder went up her spine. She tried to tamp it down by studying the kitchen.
“Mrs. Tindle’s sister is in town? I heard she was coming for a visit. Do you know how long she’ll be staying?”
“To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know she was Mrs. Tindle’s sister until I got off the stage.”
“Wait a minute, you and Mrs. Tindle’s sister were on the same stage together?”
“We didn’t speak much,” Daisy offered, and cringed. “Perhaps the woman was having a bad day. She was less than agreeable the entire journey, and complained constantly about everything.” Including me.
“Oh dear. That couldn’t have been much fun for you or the other passengers. Is she ill?”
“No, she seemed perfectly healthy to me.”
Winnie raised an eyebrow at that and smiled. “Was she that terrible?”
Daisy nodded and tried not to laugh. “She was beyond terrible, and then some.”
Winnie burst into laughter. “I’m sorry – it’s just that I’ve heard stories about the woman. What’s her name again?”
“Eunice,” Daisy said.” I have to admit, it would be too soon before I see that woman again. I’m afraid she’s the one thing that makes me glad Morgan Tindle doesn’t wish to marry me.”
Winnie poured hot water into a teapot. “I think Morgan would more than make up for your experience with his aunt,” she told Daisy. “He really is a nice young man.”
“That may be, but the fact is he doesn’t want to marry me. I’m willing to accept that, really I am. As long as I know where I’m going in life, then I can get there.”
Winnie looked at her and smiled. “That’s a very good attitude to have. I wish more people looked at things that way.”
“My father told me that … before he died,” Daisy said as she stared at the teapot.
Winnie motioned for her to sit at the kitchen table. She did so as Winnie set a teacup and saucer in front of her. “How old were you when you lost him?”
“I was five. He was dying when he said it.”
“No wonder you remember it so well. What about your mother, was she there?” she asked as she poured them both a cup.
“No, my mother died giving birth to me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Winnie said. “I can’t imagine what your life has been like, growing up without parents and living in an orphanage.”
“It had its moments. But for the most part, I’d like to leave it behind me. It was one of the reasons I decided to come out here as a mail-order bride and start a new life.”
“You’ll still be starting a new life, Daisy. It just might not be in the way you first imagined.”
Daisy smiled. “You can say that again. But with your help, I know I’ll do all right.”
* * *
Morgan stared at the mercantile doors. Bernice had left almost an hour ago in search of his mother and aunt, but hadn’t returned. He certainly hoped the girl hadn’t taken those lemon drops and gone! Bernice could be flighty, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d gotten sidetracked. He’d been agitated and cross ever since she left, and had almost snapped at a customer. Where could his mother be?
He got his answer soon enough. Aunt Eunice came marching into the mercantile, a determined look on her face. “Finally,” he breathed. “Where’s Mother?”
“At the doctor’s house,” his aunt informed him. “This whole business has her quite upset.”
“She’s upset? What about me? I didn’t even know I had a bride!”
“Rest assured, you don’t – at least not that one. I’ve taken care of everything.”
That didn’t sound good. Morgan eyed her suspiciously. “Aunt Eunice, I told you I was going to deal with it. What did you do?”
“Your mother has accepted the fact that you’re not going to marry that creature she ordered from back east. She’s far beneath you.”
Morgan gave her a sardonic look. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that? She’s my mail- order bride, after all.”
“What do you know? You’re far too young.”
Morgan frowned. “Since when are you an expert on the subject of matrimony?” He knew well she had never married.
“Trust me, Morgan, it’s for the best.”
“Where’s Mother?” he asked again, his patience gone.
“As I told you, she’s at the doctor’s, lying down. You’ve given her quite a shock.”
“I’ve given her a … oh, for Heaven’s sake! She’s the one who ordered a bride and didn’t tell me about it!”
“Of course, I can understand why she did it, but she’s too accepting.”
“Accepting?” croaked Morgan in exasperation. “What do you mean, accepting?”
Aunt Eunice looked at him, her face expressionless. “She’s willing to let you marry just anyone. I’ve convinced her otherwise.”
“Convinced her of what?” Morgan asked, his brow furrowed.
“That you’d be better off married to someone from right here in Independence.”
Morgan stared at her. He knew well there were no eligible females to be had in the area except Bernice Caulder – and he’d sooner join the French Foreign Legion than wed her! “There’s no one in this town I’m interested in.”
“Interest has nothing to do with it,” his aunt told him haughtily. “I’m talking about breeding.”
“What?” Morgan asked in shock, then threw his head back and laughed.
“Stop that right now!” she demanded. “This is no laughing matter!”
“Aunt Eunice, in case you haven’t noticed, this is not New York or Philadelphia. This is Independence, Oregon. There’s no high society here. Mr. Edmondson’s new horse has more of a lineage than anyone in this town!”
“The Caulders are a fine family,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Morgan froze as he stared at her in horror. She couldn’t possibly be suggesting …
“And their daughter Bernice is a fine example of all a lady should be.”
Good Lord, she was! He shook his head. “You are quite mistaken!”
“I ran into young Bernice on my way here, and we had a very lengthy conversation, which included her father.”
Morgan felt his blood run cold. “Aunt Eunice, what have you done?”
“I merely took care of business. The Caulders will be here for dinner promptly at six. Now if I’m to cook tonight, I’ll need a few things …”
Morgan stood numbly, unable to utter a single word. His mind filled with pictures of Bernice Caulder running around town telling everyone they were to be married. It would be a living nightmare.
How did he go from having a mail-order bride a couple of hours ago to suddenly sitting down to supper with the Caulders to discuss … egads. No, there had to be some other explanation … “Aunt Eunice, why are the Caulders coming to dinner tonight?”
She looked at him over her shoulder as she studied a box of vegetables. “To talk about your nuptials, of course. What else?”
* * *
“Daisy, I’d like you to meet my husband, Pastor Luke Adams,” Winnie said.
Pastor Adams shook Daisy’s hand and gave her a tender smile. Winnie had left the house after their first cup of tea to let him know that they had a houseguest. She then came back to fetch Daisy and took her to the church office where he was working.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Evers. I hope we can be of some help to you.”
“Your wife has been a tremendous help already. I can’t thank her enough for all she
’s done. Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“Think nothing of it. It’s what we do for each other here. I’m looking forward to having you become a part of it, not to mention our flock. Do you sing? We’ve been trying to put together a choir.”
“I sing a little, but I’m not good,” she confessed. “Do you know anyone who might be looking to hire someone? Winnie told me about the dressmaker’s shop and the café.”
“Well, I already knew about those two. Let me think a moment,” he said as he went behind his desk and sat. “The Edmonsons can always use help with the children – they’ve got a houseful. But it wouldn’t pay very much – probably only room and board.”
“Does Mercy Vander need any help?” Winnie asked.
“Who is Mercy Vander?” Daisy asked. “I’ve heard her mentioned several times now.”
“She’s the mayor’s wife,” Luke said. “She’s in charge of a lot of the social functions here in town. With Thanksgiving just a couple of weeks away, she’s organizing food baskets for the less fortunate. We can ask her in the morning.”
“Thank you, that would be wonderful,” Daisy said. “Can you think of anything else?”
“I think that about does it for now,” Winnie said. She looked at her husband. “What do you think?”
“I agree – this isn’t a big town, after all – but it’s a start. Maybe you can work two jobs – unless of course, you get married.”
“I don’t see that happening, Pastor Adams. I’d better go speak with the owner of the café, then pay a visit to the dressmaker’s shop first thing in the morning.”
“Also talk with Mercy,” Luke said with a smile. “To whom I am most grateful.” He looked at his wife and winked.
Winnie blushed. “Mercy is one of the women who brought me out here.”
“Oh, I see,” Daisy said, “one of the conspirators.”
“That they were,” Luke said with a laugh. “But I’m glad of it. If it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t now be the happiest man in the world.”
“I’m glad things worked out so well for you,” Daisy said. She looked at the floor. “I wish they would work out for me, too.”
