“Clay sent me a ticket. He said he couldn’t bear to marry you without at least one family member here with you.”
“It was killing us, not telling you!” Martha said from behind, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Tears pricked Madeline’s eyes as she beamed at them all, especially her mother. “That was so sweet!”
Miriam nodded. “It was.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “I still think you should have married Dalton. But, if you insist on marrying a poor man, at least he’s a kind and generous poor man.”
“Mother!” Madeline hissed.
“What? It’s the truth.”
Madeline rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. But we’d better go, I don’t want Clay to think I’m standing up a third fiancé!”
***
The wedding was lovely, and though her mother was her only relative present, Madeline enjoyed seeing all the new friends and acquaintances she’d made in the last few weeks filling the pews of the small brick church. Clay and his sister were Catholic, and since Madeline wasn’t particularly religious, she had told Clay she didn’t mind having the wedding in the small Catholic church. When Mrs. Barstow found out, she nearly passed out.
“The Barstows have always been Protestant!” she whispered to Madeline as they embraced after the ceremony.
“Barely, Mother,” she whispered back, “I doubt you’d even attend church if you could avoid the gossip that would follow your absence.”
“True enough,” she sniffed. “But I still don’t like it. And if it had to be a Catholic church, why pack us in like sardines? The woman behind me must have had eight children! Why couldn’t you have held the wedding at a larger church? Isn’t there a cathedral or something?”
“No, Mother. This was the largest church that was available for the wedding. And all I care about is that I spend the rest of my life with the man I love.”
Miriam sighed. “Yes, you would. You’ve always been the most idealistic of my girls. But the bloom quickly falls off the rose, my dear.”
Madeline somehow managed to hold back another eye-roll. Did I sound this cynical, this judgmental, before I met Clay? She decided not to tell her mother that she had promised the priest that she would raise her children Catholic. Her mother might truly faint, if she knew.
Mrs. Preston had offered the use of her boardinghouse for the reception after the wedding—as long as she didn’t have to cook or clean up afterward. Ladies from church had offered to bring food and set it up in a potluck-style buffet, and Cara and the children would take care of the clean-up. After Clay and Madeline escaped the well-wishers at the church, he bundled Madeline into the sleigh he had borrowed, and they headed off toward the boardinghouse.
Two blocks before they reached Mrs. Preston’s, he turned off onto a side street, and pulled the sleigh over to the side of the road.
“Why are we stopping?” Madeline asked.
Clay turned to her. “Because I haven’t had a moment alone yet with my wife, and something tells me it will be hours, at least, before we are alone again.” He grinned mischievously. “Come here, Mrs. Porter.” He leaned in, pulling her too him.
His lips were warm, and he pressed them to hers—softly, at first, then with increasing vigor. His kisses stole her breath away, and as his tongue delved into her mouth, she felt a yearning within her. An arm wrapped about her waist, and a hand slipped behind her neck. Before she knew it, her own arms were wrapped around his neck. Her heart beat wildly, and she found herself wishing they could skip the reception altogether.
“Hey, Porter, save it for the wedding night!” a young voice called out.
Madeline pushed Clay away and sat back, as if he were on fire. She whirled around and saw Jack Lawson, who filled in at the butcher shop sometimes, leaning out of his bob-sled, waving and grinning, while his younger brother drove past slowly.
“Mind your own business,” Clay yelled back, “or I’ll tie you to the back of this sleigh and drag you down Last Chance Gulch!”
“You’ll have to catch us first!” Jack laughed, and ordered his brother to speed away.
Clay slapped the reins and gave the horses the signal to give chase, but they merely plodded along. The borrowed horses weren’t familiar to him, and they didn’t obey as quickly as Sunny and Tansy would have. Madeline laughed as he urged the horses to go faster, and they barely managed a trot.
“Next time I borrow a sleigh, we use our own horses. This is embarrassing. We’re getting beaten by a bob-sleigh!”
As they pulled up to the boardinghouse, Clay leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “We’ll have to continue all that kissing later this evening, won’t we, Mrs. Porter?”
Madeline blushed, and flashed him a shy smile. “Whatever you say, Mr. Porter.”
Chapter 22
They spent one night at The Grandon Hotel—another little luxury that Clay had surprised Madeline with, and the next day moved Madeline’s things into the apartment over the butcher shop, then took the train down to Butte to spend a few days at a hotel there, away from prying eyes. While they were gone, Herman tried to entertain Mrs. Barstow by showing her around Helena, and taking her over to play whist with Mrs. Preston.
By the time Madeline and Clay returned, Mrs. Barstow was climbing the walls, anxious to go back to Boston, where she could “go to the opera like civilized people do.” But her train wasn’t scheduled to leave for a few more days, so Madeline spent the time trying to entertain her mother, and keep her from saying things that would offend people—not an easy task.
A week after the wedding, Clay and Madeline escorted Miriam Barstow to the train station. Madeline had enjoyed seeing her mother again, but was so exhausted from trying to keep her mother busy all week, that she stumbled right into a young woman wandering around on the platform.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Please excuse me, I wasn’t even looking where I was going!”
“Madeline, didn’t I teach you better than that?” her mother piped up behind her.
“It’s alright,” the young woman assured them. “I wasn’t looking, myself. Actually, are you from Helena? I’m supposed to meet my fiancé here, and I don’t see him. I don’t know what to do.” She looked confused and ready to cry.
Madeline felt sorry for the young woman. She knew what it felt like to be fresh off the train, in a strange new place. “What’s your fiancé’s name? Maybe we know him.” She glanced at Clay, who would be more likely to know someone from the area.
“His name is Samuel Croft. He lives on a ranch nearby. I have a photograph…” the pale blonde girl opened her bag, digging for the photograph.
“That won’t be necessary.” Madeline’s heart pounded, and shot Clay a frightened look. “You’re a mail order bride?”
“How did you know?” The girl was surprised. “I just came all the way from Pennsylvania. We’ve been corresponding since summer. He wrote to me almost two months ago and asked me to marry him, but my mother was ill and I couldn’t leave until she was well again.” The girl clutched her bag with a death-grip. “To be honest, he hadn’t written for a whole month before that, and I’d thought he’d had second thoughts, until I heard from him again, at last.” She glanced around nervously. “You don’t think he got cold feet and stood me up, do you?”
Clay came up behind Madeline and put his arm on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I don’t see him anywhere,” he whispered in her ear.
Madeline patted the girl’s arm in a comforting gesture. “There, there. Everything will be fine. I’m Madeline Porter. What’s your name?”
“Wendy. Wendy Varner.”
“Wendy, it’s so nice to meet you. I think we can help you. Why don’t you come with us?” Madeline led Wendy into the station, and her mother followed. Clay followed them to the door, but remained outside.
***
Clay’s stomach roiled at the mention of Croft’s name. He glanced up and down the platform, but saw no sign of him.
He wo
n’t come on his own. He’ll send a driver again, he assured himself. Or would he? Croft considered Clay to have been trying to “steal” Madeline. Would he come on his own, this time, to insure that he didn’t lose another wife?
When Madeline guided Wendy into the train station, Clay stayed outside, keeping an eye on Mrs. Barstow’s two heavy valises. Compared to Mrs. Barstow, Madeline had traveled light, when she first came to Montana.
He stood back in the doorway, watching as the last of the train’s passengers debarked, and new passengers started getting on. No sign of Croft.
Then he saw Jack Lawson heading up the platform at a fast clip. Jack looked around, then looked at something he held in his hand. As he looked up again, he saw Clay watching him.
“Hey, Clay, have you seen a young woman? Blonde hair, blue eyes, kind of skinny? Looks to be about eighteen or nineteen?” He strode over and held out a photograph to show Clay.
It was of Wendy Varner.
“Can’t say I have.”
“Darn it. The train got in a few minutes earlier than I expected. I’m supposed to be transporting her to Sam Croft’s ranch.”
“Well, I’ve been here a while, and I didn’t see anyone matching that description stepping off the train.” It wasn’t a lie—Wendy had already gotten off the train when they first bumped into her.
Jack pulled off his hat, scrubbed his hand through his hair, then plopped the hat back onto his head. “Croft is going to kill me if I don’t show up with his girl. And what do I do? Drive all the way up to his ranch to tell him? He’s not going to pay me. It will all be for nothing.”
“Gee, Jack, don’t you know any better? Always get the money from Croft up front, or you might never get paid. Didn’t I teach you anything? Or better yet, don’t work for him at all. You know what happened with Madeline.” Jack knew some of it. Clay had shared only enough to let Jack know that Croft was bad news, and should be avoided at all cost.
“Yeah, I know, but I needed the money. Now that the Christmas rush is long gone, and your honeymoon is over, Herman won’t need me much.”
Clay shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He himself had worked for Croft, despite his own gut feelings, so who was he to judge?
“Well,” Jack sighed, “I guess I should go inside and ask if anyone has seen her.”
Clay barred the door with his arm. “Look Jack, just tell Croft the next time he’s in town that she never showed up. Don’t even bother to go to his ranch, because he ain’t going to pay you. That’s a hell of a long trip to make for nothing.”
“I don’t know Clay. I do that, he’ll pound me, the next time he sees me!”
“Doesn’t that tell you something? Don’t work for the man again! And if he complains that you didn’t show up, ask him if he’d have paid you for making the trip without her, just to tell him. He’d have to admit he wouldn’t have. And why should you make a trip for free, when it’s not even your fault that she wasn’t here when you got here?”
“He’ll say it’s my fault for being late.”
“Do you see her waiting? I don’t. So don’t mention being late. She obviously had second thoughts—it’s not your fault he can’t keep a fiancée.”
Jack chuckled. “You’re right…but I think I’ll keep that last part to myself.”
“Probably smart.” Clay winked at him. “Oh, and Jack? Let’s also keep my name out of it. You never saw me today, got it?” He held out two dollars to his friend.
Jack took it, looked at Clay, and glanced around to make sure no one was looking. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Clay looked around, feigning indifference. “I’m just not a friend of Croft’s right now, and it might be best to leave my name out of it when you see him.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at Clay, but said nothing, tucking the money away in his pocket. Two dollars was a good wage for doing nothing. “Fine by me. See you later.”
The conductor called for all passengers to board, and Clay went inside to fetch Mrs. Barstow, who was bidding Madeline a tense goodbye. Both women held back tears.
“I think it would be best if Madeline stays in here with Wendy,” Clay told Miriam, who nodded. She probably had an idea of what was going on.
He walked her to the train and got on with her, to see her to her seat and help stow her bags. Once she was comfortably ensconced in a seat by the window, he wished her well, and rose to leave.
“Wait,” she rested a hand on Clay’s. “Be good to her. She’s used to a different way of life. I know you can’t give her what she’s accustomed to, but do what you can. She’s never had to do anything for herself.” Tears shone in Miriam’s eyes.
“I promise, I’ll take good care of her, Mrs. Barstow.” He patted her hand. “But I think you underestimate your daughter’s strength. She can handle a lot more than you’d think.”
Miriam smiled grimly, never letting a single tear fall. “Perhaps you’re right. She weathered her father’s death and our ensuing…situation…with far more fortitude than the rest of us.” Her eyes drifted out the window, toward the station, where Madeline waited. “That girl…Wendy…you just saved her from the same situation that you saved my Madeline from, didn’t you?”
“I hope so. We can’t exactly kidnap her to keep her away from him, but if we can convince her, then yes, I think we can keep her from the clutches of Sam Croft.”
Miriam’s eyes shifted back to Clay’s. “If there’s one thing my Madeline can do, it’s hold her own in a debate. She got that from her father. She’ll convince the girl.”
Clay laughed. “I can’t argue with you there. Madeline does have a way with words. My sister is the same way. I don’t think I stand a chance between the two of them!”
The conductor called for everyone without a ticket to leave the train, but Clay didn’t move, suspecting Mrs. Barstow had more on her mind than she let on. A moment went by.
“I never did thank you for what you did for Madeline. She told me you gave up everything you had for her.” She gazed at Clay with piercing blue eyes, much like Madeline’s. “This may not be the life I envisioned for my daughter, but it’s a far cry from the life she would have had, if you hadn’t intervened on her behalf. I’ll never forget that.”
“You’re welcome.” Clay said, knowing it was the closest thing to a ‘thank you’ as Miriam Barstow was likely to give.
“I also won’t soon forget that you talked her out of marrying a millionaire.” She folded her hands primly and looked out the window.
Clay laughed, patted her elbow, and said goodbye, eager to return to his wife. It amused him, how much like her mother Madeline had been that first time that they met.
***
Two days later, Madeline and Clay were leaving Butte, Montana, where she and Clay had delivered Wendy to a cousin of Mrs. Preston’s. Wendy would work at a bakery and live in a spare room upstairs until she decided what to do next. She wasn’t likely to run into Croft in Butte.
“I wish we could stay and continue our honeymoon…part two,” Clay leaned over and kissed Madeline as he guided Sunny and Tansy up the mountain trail. “But Herman wants me back as soon as possible. I think Jack drove him crazy while we were gone—he was disappointed when I asked for an extra day to bring Wendy down here.”
“Herman isn’t amused by Jack’s chatter and his silly sense of humor.” Madeline chuckled at the idea of Jack following Herman around, playing pranks. “I’m just glad Jack could lend you his bob-sled. We needed to get Wendy out of Helena quickly.”
“I can’t believe Croft was corresponding with another girl while he was sending letters to you. It sounds like he was ‘hedging his bets’, and keeping Wendy on hand in case you turned him down. Do you think there were other girls, too?”
“I couldn’t say. But if there weren’t, there is nothing to stop him from finding new girls. Oh, Clay, what do we do? I can’t bear the thought of some other unsuspecting girl falling prey to his lies.”
“I thought those a
gencies are supposed to weed out the bad seeds.”
“That’s what they claim. But after word got around in Helena that I’d been lured out here by Croft under false pretenses, more than one woman came to me and told me that they had a relative or acquaintance who had a bad mail order bride experience.”
“Really?” Clay glanced her way. “You never told me that.”
She nodded. “After meeting Wendy, I’m really concerned. I know there are plenty of women who are fortunate enough to find a good agency or a good match, but I’m hearing far too many horror stories for my comfort.”
“I suspect Croft won’t try again. He’s too cheap to throw good money after bad. He’ll probably go back to hiring housekeepers to clean for him and hiring saloon girls for entertainment. At least then, he knows for sure he’ll get what he pays for.”
“You’re probably right. But what about the other women out there? They’re looking for solutions, and putting all their hopes with these companies, and some of them aren’t as trustworthy as they seem.” Her brow furrowed as she looked out over the town of Butte as they glided their way up the trail alongside the town.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve got something on your mind?”
Madeline looked back at her husband, unsure if she should say anything.
“Well?”
“You know me too well. And we’ve only been married a week!” Madeline cuddled up to him with a sigh. “I’ve been mulling something over, but I don’t know how you’d feel about it.”
“You won’t know unless you tell me.”
“Well…you know how we’ve used up most of the savings you had left, making all the improvements to the apartment, and paying for the wedding and mother’s train ticket…and how you’re always talking about what we should do to update the shop and bring in more business?”
“Yeah,” he eyed her suspiciously, then turned back to the road ahead. “I’d like a nicer sign out front—classier, and larger, too.”
“Exactly! But all that costs money, and we should plan ahead for the expense of a family, as well.”
Mail Order Regrets Page 23
