Mail Order Love (Sweet Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Novel) (Oregon Mail Order Brides)

by Blakelear, Amy

  Ellie knew she must not show the slightest inkling of her thoughts to Ursula. She quickly processed in her mind the best way to come across so that Ursula would not suspect she had an escape plan. She had to behave exactly as she had always done while she waited patiently for a reply to her advert.

  “Did you get the provisions, Ellie, dear?” Ursula spoke the word “dear” but she meant the opposite. Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “Yes, ma’am, I have a bag here, and … Briggs has the other bag, please ma’am.” Ellie hesitated, not wanting to disclose she had been talking to Briggs.

  “Why did you get him to do your work? You really need to start taking your responsibilities seriously, Ellie. You can’t just please yourself and do as you wish.”

  Ellie looked at Ursula silently. She was blasted if she was going to apologize when she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Ursula shot daggers at Ellie through her eyes and decided to move on to her next subject.

  “You met your husband-to-be. I wanted it to be a pleasant surprise for you. This has been a lot of work for me to set up, I hope you appreciate that. You are extremely lucky he agreed to accept you. You will be marrying into his house, which he owns, and you will then be a respectable member of society. It is for your poor deceased brother that I do this, God bless his soul.”

  Ellie stared at Ursula and kept her mouth firmly shut. She clenched her jaw and refused to say a word, which infuriated Ursula. When Ellie did not speak she could not be attacked so easily.

  Ursula raised her voice. “What is wrong with you, can you not speak?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ellie looked right back at Ursula. She was not going to be afraid of her anymore.

  “You will be expected to be there at the wedding. It will be held here at the house, five weeks from now on Saturday. Do you understand?”

  Ellie decided she must be totally compliant with her words. Agree to the wedding and behave as if she were cooperating. Go along with the plans as if she had reconciled herself to her new future.

  “Yes ma’am. May I be excused now, ma’am?”

  “Get away from me, I do not want to see your face. Once you have put away the provisions, mop the kitchen floor again. It was not done to a proper standard this morning.” Ursula turned back to reading the newspaper, sighing with an air of great suffering.

  Ellie removed herself from the room immediately, put away the provisions and re-mopped the floor as fast as she could. Finally she rushed up to her tiny attic room at the top of the house. It was more of a cupboard than a room. There was a miniature window in the roof and two thin mattresses where she and the other maid slept. She launched herself face first onto her mattress and lay there immobile like a doll, letting the tears come out as they would.

  The tears dropped from her eyes as a release of the shock she had endured, but Ellie did not feel so upset any more. She had made a decision to do something and she had acted on it immediately. That cheered her up better than any amount of wailing would have done. Now she had hope. She had a way out. A possible way out.

  Ellie heard a soft tap at her door and she drew herself up from her bed. Not wanting to look upset, she hastily swept away her tears and patted her hair into place.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Briggs, miss, may I come in?”

  “Oh Briggs, come in.” His open face with its mild blue eyes and fluffy tufts of white hair sticking out above his ears popped around the door. Ellie smiled at him. “Be careful Briggs, Ursula will make your life difficult if she finds out you are talking to me.”

  “Huh.” Briggs rolled his eyes, showing just what he thought about that. He entered the room and perched awkwardly on the corner of the dresser. “Excuse me for coming in here, miss, I wanted to check up on you. Did you put the advert in? I feel responsible, having suggested it myself.”

  “I put it in, Briggs. I did it. Do you really think someone will reply? I said I would be a housekeeper.”

  “It worked for my sister.” Briggs studied the small patch of sky he could see through the window and appeared thoughtful. “In fact, I am pleased you are giving it a try, though I worry who might reply. I have heard rumors about this Gergmins man they want to marry you to. Bad things are being said. You are better off taking a chance on a new situation than being sure of a bad one here.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if there are rumors, Briggs. The expression on his face is enough to warn me something is wrong.”

  “You are perceptive, miss. And they are facts more than rumors. I have it on good authority. A friend of mine worked at his house for a short time. Let’s just say that Gergmins is known to take out his frustrations on his staff. He’s been wanting a wife for some time now, but a number of arrangements have fallen through.”

  Ellie nodded as she listened intently. “I see.”

  Briggs breathed in noisily through his nose and his eyes looked fierce. “It sickens me that Ursula is willing to turn you over to that beast. Your life would be over if you became his wife. I am sorry to be so blunt, miss, but it is the truth.”

  Briggs had come to care for Ellie like a granddaughter. He looked visibly shaken by the revelation today.

  “Ellie, I will do whatever I can to help you. I know the clerk at the newspaper office so I can help you check for mail there. One or other of us will check at least every day. We just have to get you out of this house and far away from Gergmins.”

  “Thank you, Briggs.” This good man’s heart made all the difference to Ellie. He was the only human being alive who cared about her.

  Ellie’s brow furrowed as she thought things through.

  “Briggs, what if it doesn’t work, what if no one reads my advert? And even if someone does read it, will they accept me on the basis of my words alone and send me a ticket to come to them? There isn’t enough time for letters to travel back and forth. I need an immediate acceptance. And I can’t just run away with nowhere to go, I would end up in the poorhouse. I must have a live-in job to go to.”

  Briggs tried to look as confident as possible for Ellie’s sake.

  “Someone will see that advert and want you, Ellie. You must have faith.”

  Chapter 4

  Deep in the prairies, Oregon State.

  Grammy Ford relaxed in bed with her cup of tea, the covers all drawn up around her. She munched on a toasted biscuit, not minding the few crumbs that flew out.

  Maybe that’s not what refined ladies do, but I’m not one to care about that.

  She’d never considered herself a refined lady and was actually rather proud not to be counted among their ranks.

  Up on the top two floors of their palatial dwelling Grammy had her own wing of rooms. Her attic bedroom was the main room where she sat.

  The ceiling of the room was so high, and the window so large, that there was no hardship involved in living up in the eaves of the house. On the contrary, the room had the advantage of providing the best views of any spot in the building.

  Grammy had furnished the room comfortably. She had a worn old wooden rocking chair that she loved to sit in. For visitors there were four chairs and a fraying chaise longue, with patchwork cushions and soft woolen blankets strewn around. Embroideries of flowers, natural scenes, and wise sayings decorated the walls.

  Grammy looked out of the wide-open window, far over the rolling prairie beyond.

  She scanned the view. Out under the wide blue sky she could see a figure moving against the fields. Her grandson Jared was herding up the cattle valiantly on his horse. She watched as he sprinted on his horse and sharp-turned to get the cattle rounded.

  He never stops, that boy. Constantly working all the hours God sends.

  It was just her and Jared now, after his Ma and Pa had died in the great train crash fourteen years ago. Since the crash it seemed all he’d done was work.

  It was a struggle to hold the enormous estate together on his own after his two brothers and two sisters had moved on to seek their
fortunes. Jared did an admirable job, but in truth he was just about holding the place together, provided he worked long exhausting days without rest. He never complained once about it.

  Grammy would cook up simple but hearty meals, big pots of stew that lasted for days. She hobbled around the house on her not-so-good legs and did what little cleaning and laundry she could manage in between naps. More often than not, Jared pitched in with some of the household tasks. Together, they kept everything going.

  Grammy still worked as a seamstress when she could, taking in sewing and mending from the folks who lived in and around the nearby town. Her eyes were not as good as they used to be, but her skills were such that she could almost sew blind by feel alone.

  Grammy also had a hobby that brought in extra income for the place. She bred Irish wolfhound puppies, the descendants of the dogs her husband had originally brought over from Ireland.

  The two of them had emigrated to America all those years ago, to escape the collapse of their business and the tough times in Ireland. It was the best decision they had ever made, and with a lot of hard work they had established themselves a prosperous and happy home. Irish wolfhounds had always been there with them. They represented a link back to their past.

  Noble and loving creatures, these dogs had the purest hearts and would die to protect their human family. They were in great demand around these parts as guard and farm dogs.

  People had to make an application if they wanted to buy one of the puppies. Grammy would check into their backgrounds through her gossip network and find out their circumstances. Only if Grammy was satisfied that the applicants would make good owners would the transaction take place. People would send their servants from miles away to come and collect a puppy by train.

  The wolfhounds possessed an uncanny ability to sniff out good from bad human spirits. Grammy adored the dogs, as did Jared.

  “Come here, my pet. Give Grammy a cuddle now.”

  One of the five soft wispy puppies reclining with Grammy on her sunlit bed bounded up to her floppily and batted her arms with his paws.

  His new dark gray fur, though wiry to look at, was silky to the touch. He had brown, button-like expressive eyes, dark ears that flopped down in two velvet triangles either side of his face, and a little white patch of fur on his chin.

  “Don’t spill my tea, you rascal! Come to Grammy, have a piece of my biscuit now, there’s a sweetheart.”

  Grammy smiled and relaxed back in her bed with a sigh, enjoying the late winter sun and a little more relaxation before starting back on her sewing. Grammy had seen a lot of hardship in her life but she wasn’t one to dwell on bad times. She had too many other things to think about and there was too much fun to be had.

  In a couple of days she would attend her weekly card game with the other local old folk. They met up mostly for a good chin wag, but they also liked to keep their noggins ticking over by challenging each other to a game of cards. No gambling, but Grammy didn’t refuse a glass of whiskey once a week to lubricate the brain matter.

  Grammy’s eyes followed the speck that was Jared. He moved through the sloping hills kicking up a big cloud of dust as he rode his horse. He herded up those cattle well with the help of his two dogs.

  Ah, he seems lost, that boy.

  On the face of it, Jared was doing well, but Grammy worried for him and his future. She had watched as he had withdrawn into himself after the death of his parents. He had become quiet, and only sometimes would his cheekier, happier nature come out again.

  He was working himself to the bone. He seemed content, and he was always gentle with a ready smile, but Grammy was the only one who knew how lost he felt inside.

  He needs young company. Not an old one like me, on my last legs. And not those rough farm hands he hires. He needs someone light and pretty and lovely to make him laugh.

  Grammy’s eyes drifted up from Jared to the sparkling blue sky where tiny violet-green swallows flitted and dropped. She watched them as they flew in arcs, curving through the air with perfect precision.

  A wife. He needs a wife. He’s going to be twenty-three in a few weeks time. What a perfect birthday present. He’d never agree if I told him in advance anyway.

  Grammy didn’t lose any time once she got an idea in her head. Women were few and far between in these parts, but there were other ways to get a wife in this day and age.

  Her friend Grandma Allen from her card game meetings was an example. Grandma Allen’s grandson Joe had needed a wife to help him out on his farm. There weren’t any girls around who were suitable, so Joe had just picked one, right out of the newspaper.

  They had adverts in there from women in the east wanting to start up a new life out here in the west. Mail order brides. The women advertised and the man picked one and paid for the woman to travel out here. God willing, all was well.

  Grammy grabbed her newspaper and ruffled through it, searching for the adverts section in the back. The puppies thought this was a new game and pounced on the paper with their fat soft paws.

  “Come along now pups, Grammy is choosing a lovely lady for our dear Jared!”

  Grammy peered through her close work glasses as she squinted at the fine print.

  Here we are. We are looking for a nice, good, kind-hearted girl to make him happy. “Little bird wishes to fly away”? What a darling, that’s want we want. A good housekeeper too. She sounds modest, not too full of herself. Reply to this advert number for a discreet communication? No sooner said than done, my dears.

  Grammy picked up her quill and ink and reached for a sheet of paper. There was no point in hanging around. Her decision had been made and she was going to act on it right away.

  Grammy had the letter written within minutes. Later that afternoon she got Mr. Allen to drop her in town and wait for her while she did her errands. She purchased the necessary travel tickets from Boston to Oregon, enclosed them in the envelope, and sent the letter out by the afternoon post.

  Chapter 5

  Boston, two weeks later.

  Ellie had passed each day as quietly as possible. She had made sure she did not do anything to anger Ursula. Instead she kept her head down and tried to be invisible.

  It had been two weeks since she had placed the advert. Still she had heard nothing. Ellie paused her mopping of the kitchen floor. Sweat beaded her brow and her body ached. Life was a never-ending drudge of household tasks. She held onto the mop handle and drooped against it.

  Every day she would be up at four in the morning to start the fires in the grates. She would air and sweep the entire house then start on the washing. The other maid took care of Ursula and Martin’s breakfast as Ursula would not let Ellie use the stove, saying she was incapable. Ellie would go to the market to pick up the items written on the list. She would come back to wash and peel vegetables. Mop and polish floors. Beat the carpets.

  The only high point in her day was seeing Briggs. At some time, usually in the evening, he would find a safe moment to seek her out and talk for a few minutes. Every day she would hang onto the hope that he would bring a reply to her advert from his daily trip to the newspaper office. Every day, she had been disappointed.

  Ellie felt sick a lot of the time. She was still thin from her battle with typhoid. Although she had her appetite back, the portions of food that Ursula gave her were too small.

  Ellie resumed her mopping, pulling out the strength from somewhere within. She just had to stick this out. The letter would come. Someone out there would surely see her advert and reply.

  Ellie worried over the contents of the advert she had written. Why had she been so impulsive, writing the first thing that had come into her head? She should have waited one more day, found a newspaper and checked the adverts that other people had written. Then she could have written a more professional-sounding advert.

  Why did I write “little bird”? That sounds ridiculous. No one is going to reply to that, they are going to think I am simple minded.

  Ellie
sighed and squeezed the mop into the bucket, the dirty water sloshing out and splashing her legs.

  Just keep faith. It’s all I have.

  She heard Ursula calling.

  “Ellie? Ellie!” Ursula yelled her name as if it were the most irritating word in the English language.

  She called back politely. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Come here now, to the front room!”

  Ellie placed the mop and bucket to one side, smoothed down her dress and made her way along the corridor. What had she done wrong this time?

  “In here, Ellie!” Ursula called from behind the shut door.

  Ellie pushed open the door and entered. Mr. Gergmins was sitting there, smiling obsequiously. He sat upright on the chaise longue with his knees together and his hands folded on his knees. As soon as Ursula saw that Ellie had entered the room, she made to leave. Her voice took on a honeyed tone.

  “Your fiancé is here to see you, you lucky girl. Mr. Gergmins, let me know when you are ready.” Ursula swept out of the room, her long skirts trailing after her. She shut the door.

  Ellie hardly had time to process this before she heard the click of a key. Ursula had locked her in. With this ill-reputed beast of a man. Ellie’s heart began to beat quickly and sweat prickled her palms.

  Mr. Gergmins bestowed an oily smile on her. “Elizabeth, my dear, come and sit alongside me now.” He patted the space next to him.

  Do not call me dear.

  Ellie stood still for a moment before going to stand by the window, as far away as possible from her visitor. She strove to appear calm and measured even though her insides were coiled into a tight knot of fear.

  “What did you come to see me about, Mr. Gergmins?” Ellie spoke in a confident voice, trying to appear brisk and in charge of the situation.

  Don’t anger him, he might lash out. Be pleasant but distant.

  Mr. Gergmins remained seated in the same position and twisted his head around at an odd angle so he could see her at the window. It only served to make him appear more monster-like.