Brides of Grasshopper Creek
Page 13
I have been praying for guidance each night, hoping the Lord would show me if this path He has put me on still includes marrying Chad, or if He brought me here only so I could help Chad face his fears and learn. I know I will not leave Bannack, no matter what happens. This is truly my home now and where I am meant to be. I pray, though, that Chad's heart is a part of the future planned for me, because I have already pledged mine to him, though silently. I do not think I am ready to hear it if he has decided he no longer wants to marry me.
Christmas is coming again, Diary. I hope that the hotel puts a tree in the lobby.
Emily
Chapter 13
"It seems you have a Christmas card this morning, Emily."
I looked up from my coffee and saw Hannah smiling at me as she handed me an envelope. I had not yet heard from my parents that holiday season and I guessed that this was a card from them, but the front of the envelope had no address, just my name.
"Thank you."
I waited until Hannah had walked away before I opened the envelope and pulled out the card. The front featured an expanse of pristine snow with a red bird perched on an icy branch, gazing down at the heart shape he had made in the shimmering white with his feet. I opened the card and careful, deliberate handwriting came into view. It was writing that I had become very familiar with over the last few months and it brought tears to my eyes to see it.
Darling Emily,
I know this card will not make up for the letters I did not really write, but I hope it can be a start. It is my first Christmas greeting, and I wanted it to be for you. As this season of miracles approaches, I thank God for the miracle that He has sent to me in you, and pray that He will grant me one more. Marry me.
Merry Christmas, my angel,
Chad
I felt shivers as I read the words that he had written. I rushed out of the hotel without bothering to grab my cloak and ran directly to Chad's grocery store. He looked up at me from behind the counter as I burst through the door, sending the bells above me ringing frantically.
"Yes," I said through my chilled lips.
I had wanted to say so much more, but as soon as I saw him, that was the only word that I could manage. Chad walked around the counter slowly, a smile coming to his lips.
"Good," he said, "I am glad this will not go to waste."
He was pointing above my head and when I looked up I saw a sprig of mistletoe tied among the bells. I looked back at Chad and he stepped up close, leaning down to touch a gentle kiss to my lips.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too."
He kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around him. Come spring, I would start my school and begin to teach the children of Bannack. For the winter, however, I was more than happy to put that aside and lose myself in Chad, finally knowing that I had found what was out there waiting for me.
THE END
Mail Order Bride Charlotte
Brides Of Grasshopper Creek
Faith-Ann Smith
Mail Order Bride Charlotte
It is 1862, and after the death of their parents and other siblings, Charlotte and her brother Victor only have each other left in the world. Well past marrying age at thirty years old, Charlotte has nearly resigned herself to spending her life taking care of Victor when she suddenly discovers that he has been planning for them to move away from Philadelphia and seek out their futures in the Frontier town of Bannack, Montana.
Though Victor refuses to admit it, Charlotte knows that having a single sister following him around is limiting to him and she decides to take responsibility for herself and find a man who is looking for a wife. She doesn't care who he is, as long as he is from Bannack. She finds a potential suitor quickly and they make plans to travel, but when she meets her intended face to face, she finds it difficult to talk to him. Doubt creeps in and Charlotte begins to wonder if their courtship was rushed.
Has she made a terrible mistake in coming to Bannack, or will the two find another way to communicate so that their love has a chance to blossom and grow?
Chapter 1
December, 1862
Dear Diary,
Victor finally talked about Mama and Papa today. It had been so long since I had heard him mention either of them that it sounded almost strange when it actually did come out of his mouth. We were sitting in the parlor together after dinner, silently staring at the snow drifting down from the darkening sky, when he suddenly turned and looked into the bare corner of the room.
"It looks so empty without a tree," he said, "Papa would have cut down a tree by now."
"Yes, I suppose he would have," I said cautiously after a moment of getting over the shock of hearing him mention our father after so many months.
"And Mama would have made paper chains to hang on it."
"Yes, she would have. Her paper chains were always so beautiful."
Victor nodded then and turned back to the snow. It has been nearly eight months since our parents died in that horrible accident, and Victor has not said a single word about them since their funeral. While it was nice to hear him speak of them, and even nicer to be able to speak of them myself without the discomfort of him glaring at me as he always did when I mentioned them before now, it was also somewhat strange. It felt like something was about to happen, that change was coming and this was the moment that it had begun.
Christmas is not the same this year. I want to feel the same cheer and joy that I have always felt during this wonderful season, but I am struggling to even feel the tiniest bit of the holiday spirit. It is simply not what I remember now that Mama and Papa are not here. Like Victor mentioned, we do not even have a Christmas tree. I do not think that we will get one. There does not seem to be a reason now that the entire family is no longer together. I cannot imagine just going along as if everything is just the way it has always been; sitting beneath the tree on Christmas morning reading scriptures and singing songs.
I have gotten my brother a small gift, of course, but I think that I will just leave it for him in front of his door. There is no reason to make this year even more difficult that it will already be.
It is hard to believe that the new year is just a few weeks away, and in the summer, I will be thirty. It is almost embarrassing for me to even admit that to you, Diary. The girls I knew when I was younger are all married and have little ones now, but I am alone with only Victor. I fear sometimes that I will never find a husband and will be destined to live out my days with Victor, unless he marries and then I will simply be a spinster completely on my own.
I just read through that passage again and I am embarrassed with how whiny I sound. I truly do not mean to. I do not want to complain or to be selfish. I just sometimes find myself dreaming of the life that I might one day have had if my parents had not died and this horrible war had not taken so many of the men. I have waited my entire life for my father to find a man who he finds acceptable for me to marry, and now that will never happen.
Perhaps we should not ignore the holiday completely. Mama and Papa both loved Christmas so much. Of course, we were never permitted to attend any of the balls or parties held by the other families, but we would celebrate as a family. I may not be able to convince Victor to find us a tree, but I can still honor Mama by making her favorite pudding recipe and perhaps some cookies. If I simply set them out on the table and not say anything about them, Victor can have his Christmas treats without having to think too much on our parents.
I will visit the store tomorrow. I hope this snow will stop by then. I dislike walking through the snow and getting my skirts wet. There I go complaining again. I really must learn to contain myself better. At least I am complaining only to you. You cannot get frustrated with me.
Charlotte
Chapter 2
I took a step toward what I thought was a solid section of ground and felt my foot sink deeply into a snowdrift. Giving a deep sigh, I gathered my skirts up as high as I dared and wrenched my foot up out of the snow so I coul
d try to make my way the rest of the way to the general store without sinking again.
By the time I stepped through the door to the general store and heard the usually joyful chime of the bells that now sounded almost taunting, I was soaked all the way through the layers of my skirts and up to my knees. I dropped them down and shuddered as they splattered ice and remnants of snow across the floor.
The air was filled with the familiar scents of the holidays and as I walked around the store gathering the ingredients I needed for the treats I planned to make for Victor I filled my lungs with peppermint, cinnamon, and the fresh woodsy scent of the pine sprigs tucked on the counter.
I approached the counter with my selections balanced in my arms and carefully lowered them down.
"Hello, Charlotte," Mrs. Gates, the owner of the shop, said as she stepped up to the register.
"Hello, Mrs. Gates. How are you this afternoon?"
"I am doing very well, thank you. How are you and Victor getting along?"
The older woman was looking at me with the sympathy that everyone had been carrying in their eyes since my parents died. I appreciated the sentiment, but at the same time it made me uncomfortable to see people feeling so bad for us when I felt more than ready for them to simply talk to me again rather than talking to just that one single aspect of who I now was.
"We are doing well; preparing for Christmas."
Mrs. Gates nodded and made a note of my purchases on our account for payment at the end of the month.
"Would you like me to have these delivered for you?"
I thought about the deep snow awaiting me and the long walk home.
"Yes, please. As soon as possible. I was planning on making the cookies this afternoon."
"Absolutely."
"Thank you. Have a good day, Mrs. Gates."
I turned to leave the store but heard Mrs. Gates call me back.
"Oh, Charlotte. Will you please let your brother know that I have spoken with my husband and he will be able to have that wagon ready for Victor by early April."
I shook my head in confusion.
"Wagon?" I asked.
"Yes. Victor came in here last week to talk to Mr. Gates about building a wagon for your trip. He has several other projects that he must complete once the weather improves and then he will build the wagon."
I still didn't know what she was talking about, but I didn't want to show my confusion and give even more reason for the people of my town to look at me with pity. I forced a smile and nodded at her.
"Oh. Yes. The wagon. Thank you, Mrs. Gates. I will let him know. I am sure that he will be happy to hear that."
I continued to smile until I was far enough beyond the general store that I knew the owner couldn't see me anymore, and then let it melt from my face. Gathering my skirts again, I picked up speed and rushed home as quickly as my legs and the snow would allow me. I knew Victor would be home for lunch just as he was every day at that time and I found him, just as I expected, sitting at the table.
"Why is Mr. Gates making you a wagon?" I demanded without greeting.
Victor lowered the piece of bread that he held and looked at me with an expression that said he had been dreading this conversation.
"Sit down, Charlotte."
I sat across from him and stared into his face, not wanting to give him any opportunity to get around explaining to me what was happening.
"Tell me what's going on, Victor. Are you leaving?"
"No," he answered and I relaxed momentarily.
"We both are."
Chapter 3
December, 1862
Dear Diary,
How could Victor do this to me? Since our older brothers and younger sister died from fever, even when our parents were still alive, it was always the two of us. He was not just my brother, but my dearest friend and the person to whom I have always felt the closest. Now I feel like he has betrayed me.
Of course, Victor does not see it the same way. He thinks that he is doing what is best for us by planning to leave our home and go west. There are opportunities out there, he tells me, and no dark memories to torment us. I know that he is thinking of our family now lying in the ground and the life that he planned for himself but that was taken away by the bullet that has left him with a terrible limp.
I did not tell him that moving west would not take our bad memories away from us, only force us to carry them along and breathe them into the new life, whatever that may be, that we created for ourselves there.
He has already chosen the town. Bannack, Montana. It seems that he has put so many steps in place already and would not have even told me had I not found out about the wagon from Mrs. Gates. I wonder how long he would have waited. Would he have just packed me up with the rest of the trunks and put me in the wagon come April?
I am considering not going along with him. I cannot imagine life without him, without anyone, but why should it be completely his decision what I do with my life? I cannot help but feel that he is only including me in his vision of a new life out in the Frontier because he feels obligated to. Like everyone else in this town he sees me as a woman past my prime, sad and lonely with no husband.
Why is it that Victor, two years older than I am and as yet unmarried, may live his life as a vital bachelor with all of the opportunities and options in the world, but anyone who sees me seems to see someone with options already so limited by my own sex now even further limited by the years I have lived?
I am frightened to leave home, Diary. I am frightened to leave the place I have always known and to undergo the arduous journey across the country. I know that it is not an easy trip. The farthest either of us has ever traveled was to our grandparents' home when we were very young. That trip was only two days, nothing like the months on end that people have spent in their wagons following the trails across to the new towns and settlements that have been building up.
Of course, I must go with him. I have no choice. If I were to stay here, I would have no way to care for myself, no future. I do not know what may be out west that is calling to my brother, or why he feels that now is the time that God is telling him that we should plan our journey, and it may be his future that we are chasing, but as least with him I would not be spending my life completely alone.
Charlotte
Chapter 4
"I do not want to be a burden to you."
"You aren't a burden, Charlotte."
It had been two weeks since Victor had revealed his plan for us to move to Bannack come spring and I had been lost in my own musings about it since. I had gone through the course of every emotion that I could fathom and finally found myself balanced between a sense of despair and of fear.
As devastated as I felt about leaving home and venturing into the unknown, I was also afraid of following my brother blindly into a world that may leave me just as alone and hopeless as it would if I were to stay here. Should Victor find a wife after arriving in Bannack, or, Heaven forbid, not even make it to Bannack but die during the trip, I would have nothing to protect me.
I knew that as much as my brother talked about wanting to get away from home in order to start fresh where our dark memories didn't haunt us, he was also hoping to find the type of life that staying in Philadelphia could never have afforded. Ambitious and always dreaming, Victor longed for the realization of dreams people said could come true in the west. I worried that if he felt he was still taking care of me, he would never have the opportunity to live the life that he wanted to live. He would never push himself to try.
"You would never call me a burden. I know that. If you were honest with yourself, though, you would realize that you have spent your entire life worrying about me, and if I do not do this, you will have to spend the rest of your life doing it as well. I know how much moving to Bannack means to you, and I do not want to do anything that will keep you from getting the most out of it."
"But, Charlotte…"
"I know what I'm doing, Victor."
; I leaned over to kiss my brother's cheek, hoping that my voice was convincing. Even as I said the words, I was not entirely sure of myself.
Chapter 5
Man Seeking Wife. Bakery owner in Bannack, Montana seeks wife to help with responsibilities of the bakery and the home. Age not a concern. Respond with availability to travel.
Dear Sir,
I read your advertisement and feel that I may be an appropriate fit for your needs. Family obligations necessitate I move from Philadelphia to Bannack in the coming months. My experience baking and keeping the family home would allow me to fulfill the position you have described. Please let me know what else you may like to know about me.
Charlotte Marshall
Chapter 6
I held the envelope in my hand, staring at the handwriting across the front, building myself up to opening it. All of my hopes for my future could be held within that envelope, or I could open it to be dashed.
"Are you going to open it?"
Victor had come into the room without me even realizing it and was now standing beside me, watching my eyes travel back and forth across the envelope. Finally, I tore into the envelope and pulled out the letter.
"He says that I sound like I would be an acceptable fit and wants to know when I will be traveling to Bannack."
Relief washed over me. It was not romantic, but I had not expected it to be. I didn’t care about finding a man who I could fall in love with through our correspondence. I cared only about finding a man who would agree to marry me when I arrived in Bannack so that I could travel with Victor but not have to be his burden, even if he would still not admit that that is what I would be.