by Al Lacy
“I’m sure that’s true. And as I said before, you’re going to love the whole family.”
“I have no doubt of that. Chris’s mother has written to me twice since it was settled that I was coming to Fort Bridger. She seems like such a sweet lady.”
“Hannah is definitely that,” said McClain. “Everybody in the town and the fort loves her.”
“How many siblings does Chris have, Betty?” asked Rya.
“Four. Two sisters and two brothers. Chris is the oldest. His sister, Mary Beth—who is twenty—is married to a young Christian attorney who recently established an office in the town. Mary Beth teaches fourth, fifth, and sixth grades at the Fort Bridger school. I’m sure the two of you will have a lot to talk about if you get to meet her when the wagon train stops there. Chet told me they always stock up good at Fort Bridger, so you’ll probably be there a half-day or so.”
“I hope I get to meet her,” said Rya.
“The next oldest is Brett Jonathan. Chris says they call him B.J. He’s fifteen. Then there’s Patty Ruth, who’s thirteen. Chris says she’s the droll of the family.”
McClain laughed. “She is definitely that! And she’s a cutie, too.”
Betty smiled. “And lastly, there’s Eddie, who’s six years old. I’m sure looking forward to meeting all of them. Chris’s maternal grandparents live there, also, and he speaks so highly of them. I just know the Lord’s hand is in it all. As you can see, I’ll have a pretty good-sized family.”
“I’m sure that will be a blessing,” said Della. “Archie, we’d better head for the wagon. It’s almost bedtime.”
“Guess I’d better head for the Keegan wagon,” said Rya. “Dawn has been coming in the middle of the night lately.”
Everyone laughed.
McClain stood and offered his hand to her. “I think maybe you’re the wagon train’s droll!”
Rya playfully dug an elbow into his ribs, then gave him a winsome smile as she stepped to Betty and hugged her. “I’m so glad for you, Betty. It’s so romantic. Just think! A mail order bride!”
McClain then took Rya by the hand and led her to the Keegan wagon. Burt and Dorothy were already in bed. McClain looked around to see if anybody was watching, then kissed her good night, helped her into the rear of the wagon, and walked away.
As the weeks passed and the wagon train moved farther west, they traveled close to the south bank of the Platte River and camped on it at night. When they reached the spot where the river split into the North Platte and the South Platte, they followed the South Platte until it veered toward Colorado, then proceeded westward along the bank of the smaller Lodgepole River.
Although Rya stayed busy teaching four evenings a week, she and McClain made time to be together. They found themselves falling deeper in love with the passing of each day. McClain was privately praying that the Lord would help him to know when the time was right to ask Rya to marry him, and just how to do it.
On several occasions, McClain overheard Rya and Betty talking, and Rya often repeated her feeling that to be a mail order bride must be terribly romantic. Once when McClain heard it, Rya added: “And maybe just a little bit scary.”
This caused him to smile to himself.
The wagon train was within four or five days of the Wyoming border when Chet Place led them to form a circle on the bank of the Lodgepole, just outside the town of Sidney. All the women pitched in to make one meal so everybody could eat together.
During the meal, McClain had butterflies in his stomach. The Lord had impressed him that this was the night to ask Rya to marry him. He knew the way he was going to ask her would both surprise and please her.
When the meal was over and the women were getting ready to wash dishes, Rya called for her students to join her for the evening’s class.
Having kept an eye on Bobby Jensen during supper, McClain hurried to him as he left his parents and headed for the Jensen wagon to get his books and notebook.
Drawing up to the wagon just behind the boy, McClain said, “Bobby, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, Mr. Reardon.”
“I need you to do me a big favor.”
“I have to go to class now, but I’ll do it right after.”
“Well, you can do this favor when you go to class.”
“Oh. All right. What is it?”
“Go ahead and get your stuff, then I’ll need you to come to the Larkin wagon with me.”
Bobby climbed inside and retrieved his books. As he walked beside McClain across the open area, he asked, “What is it you want me to do?”
“I’ll explain in just a minute.”
When they reached the Larkin wagon, McClain reached in over the tailgate and took out a leather case. Opening the case, he pulled out a sealed envelope and said, “I want you to give this to your teacher immediately after class is over.”
Looking a bit puzzled, Bobby nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead and read what it says on the envelope.”
Angling it toward the light that came from the nearest fire, Bobby read the words written by the hand of McClain Reardon:
Miss Rya Garrett
c/o Chet Place’s Wagon Train
Somewhere in Nebraska, USA
Brow furrowed, the boy said, “This looks like a letter you would send through the mail.”
“Exactly. You’re a smart boy!”
Bobby laughed.
“Here’s what I want you to do: when you hand Miss Rya this letter after class is over, tell her you are the official postman of the wagon train, and you have a letter for her.”
“Is this a love letter, Mr. Reardon?”
“You could call it that, son. Now what are you going to tell her when you hand it to her?”
“That I’m the official postman of the wagon train and I have a letter for her.”
McClain patted him on the back. “Excellent! I really appreciate this.”
A grin lit up Bobby’s young face. “I’m happy to do it, sir.” With that, he hurried off to class.
McClain watched him go and whispered, “Well, Lord, the wheels are in motion. How can I ever thank You for bringing Rya back into my life? Please help me to be the husband she deserves.”
For nearly two hours, McClain moved about the camp, making conversation with different people. When it was almost time for class to be over, he hurried to that side of the wagon circle. Moving into the shadows where no one could see him, he watched the last few minutes of the session. He chuckled under his breath when Rya dismissed her students and Bobby hurried up to her.
“Miss Rya …” said the boy, with a wide smile on his face, while holding the envelope behind his back.
“Yes, Bobby?”
“Ma’am, I am the official postman of the wagon train, and I have a letter for you.” He handed it to her.
Looking puzzled, Rya took the envelope. “Why … ah … thank you.”
Bobby told her she was welcome and quickly darted away Rya opened the envelope and took out the letter. Moving close to one of the nearby lanterns, she angled the letter toward its glow and began reading.
July 22, 1879
My darling Rya,
It is with an eager mind and an adoring heart that I pen these words. You have spoken often to Betty Hilmes, letting it be known how romantic you feel it is for a young lady to become a mail order bride. Because I love you more than you will ever know, I have arranged the same for you. Please note that you are holding a piece of mail in your hand, delivered by the official postman of this wagon train.
I am hereby asking you to become my mail order bride. Will you marry me? I will breathlessly await your answer.
Your loving McClain
When Rya finished reading the letter, she sensed movement at her side and looked up through her tears at McClain.
“Oh, you wonderful darling!” she said, and started to throw herself into his arms. But from the corner of her eye, she saw people passing by. She sniffled, wiping te
ars. “Let’s take a little walk.”
“Yes, ma’am! I’ll take your books and notes to the Keegan wagon. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Tears flowed down Rya’s cheeks as she doused the lanterns. “Oh, dear Lord, You have given me the most wonderful man in the whole world! He’s so sweet! How many men would have thought of this?”
There were still people passing by when McClain returned. Without a word, he took her hand, led her between two wagons, and they made their way to a private spot on the bank of the river under an expanse of dark sky glittered with twinkling stars and a pale half-moon.
Rya threw her arms around the man she loved. “I love you so much! You’re the most wonderful man in all the world!”
McClain held her tight. “As long as I’ve got you believing that, nothing else matters.”
Pulling her head back so she could look him in the eye by the dim light, she gave him a sly grin. “All right, Mr. Reardon, who made Bobby the official postman of the wagon train?”
“I did.” McClain put a palm under her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Well?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! I will be your mail order bride, you wonderful romantic!”
After sharing a sweet kiss, they held each other tight.
McClain put his lips against the soft hair on top of her head. “Let’s pray and ask the Lord to bless our lives and our marriage.”
When they finished talking to the Lord together, they kissed again, then McClain took her by the hand and said, “Since dawn has been coming in the middle of the night, my future mail order bride needs to get in her bedroll.”
“Now, who’s the droll?”
As they were heading back to the camp, holding hands, McClain said, “It is my opinion that we should get married as soon as we get settled in Sacramento.”
“Oh, it is, huh?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Well, Mr. Reardon, I happen to be of the same opinion.”
“Good! Then it’s settled.”
“I’ll write my parents tomorrow, and let them know that we’re engaged. We’ll be passing by Kimball tomorrow or at least the next day. I’ll mail it there.”
They passed between two wagons, and as they neared the Keegan vehicle, they saw Burt and Dorothy sitting on chairs beside the wagon, each sipping a cup of coffee. A fire crackled close by, giving off a glow of yellow light.
“Something’s in the air, Burt,” said Dorothy. “Just look at these two!”
“Mm-hmm,” said Burt. “The love light is shining tonight.”
Dorothy rose to her feet. “Are you lovebirds going to share what has you looking so delighted?”
Rya and McClain looked at each other, nodding their agreement.
“Well,” said McClain, placing an arm around Rya and drawing her close to him, “you two will be the first to hear it. Rya has consented to be my wife!”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” Dorothy squealed. She laid her tin cup on the chair and put her arms around both of them. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking her, McClain!”
“Me, too,” said Burt. “It sure took you long enough, boy!”
Dorothy let go of them, eased back, and in a voice clogged with emotion, said, “The best wish Burt and I can have for you is that you will have as happy a marriage as we’ve had.”
That night as Rya lay in the Keegan wagon next to the tailgate, she didn’t even feel the usual lumps and bumps. It was as if she were floating on a cloud. Giving God praise for His abundant blessings and for bringing McClain back into her life, she asked for wisdom and guidance so she could be the best wife possible to the man she loved so dearly.
Lying there with the sound of the crickets all around her, she relived the glorious evening, shedding tears once more as she thought of how McClain had made her his mail order bride. She told herself she never knew that falling in love could be so marvelous. Her lips moved in barely a whisper. “Rya Reardon. That sounds so good! Mrs. McClain Reardon. Oh, there’s music in it!”
Lying on the ground in his bedroll beside the Larkin wagon, McClain was also reliving the evening. He thanked the Lord for planning his life, and so lovingly making Rya the biggest part of it.
When he thought of how she had said yes three times and of the sweet kiss that followed, his pulse quickened and he felt the staccato beat of his heart through his whole body.
His mind went back to the morning of the day when Carl Pierson and Carrie Duncan got married at Fort Steele. He recalled Chaplain Curtis Fremont asking him if the best man was nervous and he had said he was. He also remembered the chaplain’s wife saying that being best man would help him to be the groom in his own wedding.
As he turned over in the bedroll next to the Larkin wagon, McClain recalled his reply to Elaine Fremont. “I have to find that right girl the Lord has picked out for me. Now if I was an officer, I would have tried the mail order bride system myself. I guess I’ll have to wait till I’m out of the army before I can start looking for that right girl.”
He smiled in the darkness. “Lord, You work in such marvelous ways. I didn’t even have to look for her. You put her in this wagon train and handed her to me on a silver platter. Thank You, Lord! Thank You!”
The next morning before the wagons pulled out, Rya got Betty Hilmes alone and told her about McClain’s letter, asking her to be his mail order bride. Betty hugged her, saying how happy she was.
Late that afternoon, the wagons made their circle, and Ken Place hopped on his father’s horse to go into Kimball to post some mail while Chet was helping one of the men make repairs on his wagon.
McClain was talking to Rya at the tailgate of the Keegan wagon when he happened to look out on the prairie and see a small cavalry unit riding toward the circle.
Following his line of sight, Rya said, “There are soldiers coming.”
“Mm-hmm. There’s an army camp just north of Kimball. No doubt that’s where they’re from.”
“What do you suppose they want?”
“I don’t know, but I’d better go get Chet. They’ll want to talk to him.”
Rya watched McClain cross the open area to the wagon where Chet was helping with repairs. When Chet heard McClain’s words, he nodded, and the two of them stepped outside the circle to meet the soldiers as they drew up. People all over the circle were watching.
Rya stood with Dorothy and Burt as they observed the scene.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” Burt said.
“What do you mean, honey?” asked Dorothy.
“Take a gander at that lieutenant’s face. Like he just came from a funeral. Chet and McClain may be getting some bad news. I wish their backs weren’t toward us. I’d like to see their faces.”
Even as Burt was speaking, Chet and McClain turned and headed back to the wagons. Both looked somber as they talked in low tones. When they came inside the circle, everyone was looking at them.
“We need to have a meeting, folks!” called Chet. “Right out here in the middle of the circle!”
As the people were gathering, McClain spotted Rya coming with the Keegans and hurried to her.
“McClain, what is it?” she asked, worry showing in her eyes.
“I’ll let Chet tell you, honey. It isn’t good.”
When everyone was present in a large half circle, Chet stood facing them. “As you saw, McClain and I just talked to a cavalry unit. They’re from an army camp over by Kimball. All of you know we’re nearing the Wyoming border, which means we’ll soon be in Cheyenne Indian territory. Lieutenant Barlow just told us that the Cheyenne are in an uprising right now because the government is trying to put them on reservations, and they’re very hostile. Every gun in this wagon train must be ready at all times. Starting tonight, we’ll double the men on watch.
“After supper, we’ll meet around the fire, and I’ll fill you in on just how to be prepared for Indian attack. All of you men have been wearing sidearms since we left Missouri. Let’s have those ri
fles loaded and handy at all times. See you after supper.”
Rya took hold of McClain’s arm as they walked toward the Larkin wagon. A small shiver of fear lodged in her heart. McClain put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
When they drew up to the Larkin wagon, McClain pulled his revolver, checked the loads, and dropped it back in the holster. Reaching inside the wagon, he pulled out his Winchester .44 and worked the lever, checking to make sure it was fully loaded.
Rya cringed as she looked at it. “I didn’t even know you were carrying a rifle.”
“It’s too bad the Cheyenne are stirred up. I never did feel we should put them on reservations. I can’t blame them for being angry. They’re rapidly losing the freedom they once had. All we can do is be prepared.”
“I hope you never have to use the rifle or the revolver.”
McClain spoke in a whisper. “I hope not, either, sweetheart.”
16
THREE DAYS LATER, CHET PLACE’S WAGON TRAIN crossed the Wyoming border at high noon. The brilliant sun was at its peak overhead. The sky, pale on the eastern horizon, deepened in hue directly above, becoming a sapphire blue as it stretched to the western horizon.
McClain Reardon was walking alongside the Keegan wagon. Rya was on the wagon seat, sitting beside Dorothy, who was next to her husband.
Burt eyed the sturdy wooden sign that reminded them they were on the Oregon Trail and were now entering Wyoming Territory. He looked past the women at McClain. “You’re experienced at fighting Indians here in Wyoming. What tribes have you fought?”
“Well,” said McClain, “I’ve done battle with Blackfoot, Sioux, Shoshoni, and Cheyenne.”
“Do you think we could face all four?”
“It’s possible. They’re all upset that the government is working at putting them on reservations.”
“What about the Crow? It seems I’ve read that they’re also in these parts.”
“Some of them are, but the Crow aren’t the fighting kind like the others. They’ve made peace with the white man. They’ll go on reservations without a fuss.”
