by Sarah Banks
Becca’s eyes widened. “You can’t mean for me to...” Her voice tapered off as she glanced at the ad again.
Casey’s brows drew together and she frowned. Then she crossed her arms defensively. “Why not? It’s what I’m going to do as soon as I’m eighteen.”
She looked at Casey with interest. “You are?”
Casey nodded. She carefully took the ad from Becca’s fingers.
“There’s lots of men to pick from. You choose one and write him a letter and if he likes you, he sends you a ticket for a train or a stagecoach. And when you get there, you get married,” Casey said with a smile. “You’ll have your own house, food in your belly, a bed to sleep in and—
Becca raised her eyebrows. “And a husband,” she finished. Becca had never once considered getting married. Her life was here, at the orphanage, or at least it was.
“Well, it’s just an idea. It’s what I’m going to do as soon as I can. I can’t wait. I’m going to have a better life than I would ever have here,” Casey said with confidence. “All you need is a newspaper,” she added, her eyes bright with excitement.
Becca just smiled wearily and shook her head.
Chapter Three
The next day Becca applied for six jobs. When she told them of her background, they were suspicious. When they asked for references and she told them she didn’t have any, they were even more so. She returned home without a job but she did come home with a newspaper, picking one up on a whim after the sixth rejection.
Casey happened to meet Becca in the kitchen when she returned via the back door. Becca wondered how long she had been lying in wait. Casey grinned widely when she spied the newspaper Becca was holding.
“I’m just looking,” Becca said defensively.
Casey laughed and nodded, clasped her hands together and danced around the room. “Can I read it after you?” She asked excitedly.
Becca nodded and after depositing her belongings in her room, she went upstairs to tell the girls goodnight but she couldn’t bring herself to tell them that she was leaving in a few days, not yet. She had already decided that even though she should spend tomorrow looking for a job, she would spend it with the girls instead. She only had one more day she could spend with them. She didn’t know when she would see them again. Probably never. Her heart ached at the very thought.
After saying goodnight to the girls, she stopped back in the kitchen to see if there were any leftovers from supper. Casey and a few of the other older girls were still there cleaning up and Casey handed her a small plate of food she had set aside. Becca promised her in a low voice that she would read the ads tonight after supper. She took her supper to her room, slowly eating on her bed instead of at the kitchen table like usual, while eying the folded paper across the room.
Finally, she pushed the tray away and lay on the bed with the newspaper. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” she whispered to herself as she opened the pages.
An hour later, after looking through the employment ads, Becca located the advertisements for mail order brides and read them all three times each. There was only one that she would consider answering, that is if she decided to answer one at all and she still hadn’t decided. All of the men sounded nice enough, that in itself she found suspicious. She was a smart enough girl to know that she might not get what she bargained for. Really, how could she know for certain the kind of husband she would be getting? She realized it must be the same for the man advertising for a bride. It was a tricky business she decided.
She pulled out a small stack of paper along with a pen. Should she or shouldn’t she? She wondered, tapping the tip of the pen against her lower lip. First she decided to copy the ad so that she could give Casey the entire newspaper. Becca thought it was sweet that Casey had been planning a better future for herself. She deserved to be happy. All of the girls did. Whether or not happiness could be found by answering an ad for a mail order bride was yet to be determined.
Becca carefully copied the advertisement and by the time she finished, she had read the ad at least twenty times and had memorized it. She folded the newspaper and put it aside and looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her.
Seeking a bride, kind-hearted and hardworking. I recently purchased an abandoned farm in Sweet Creek, Colorado and am trying to make a go of it with my brother. Could use a woman’s help and companionship. Please note that I don’t have a lot of money and suspect I never will.
The reason she had been drawn to this particular ad was because it had seemed more honest and true than the others, almost vulnerable. It must take a lot of courage to put one’s self out there like that. Becca would answer the ad, she decided. He might not pick her, but that was okay. She would try anyway. She wanted a better future for herself, like Casey had suggested. And if she couldn’t stay at the orphanage, then perhaps her future lay to the west. But just in case he was flooded with responses and hers wasn’t the best or they plain didn’t suit, she would continue to look for a job.
She didn’t want another job. She didn’t want a husband. She didn’t want to leave here. She felt her eyes fill with tears but quickly swiped them away. There was no more time for that. She had cried enough. Now was the time for action. Miss Templeton had given her three days and it was nearly half gone. And Becca wouldn’t put it past her to accelerate the process.
It was getting late and she was tired. She would write the letter tonight, get up early like usual in the morning and spend the entire day with the girls and then the following day she needed to find temporary accommodations and then continue her job search.
She spent at least a half hour staring at a blank page wondering what to write. Finally she took a deep breath. She would just be honest and straightforward. He probably wouldn’t even pick her, so it would be foolish to spend any more time on it.
Dear Mr. Courtland
My name is Becca Smith. Actually, I’m not really sure what my last name is as I was left on a doorstep of Miss Hall’s Home for Girls when I was about three years old. I have always used Smith. I am now twenty years old, I think. I have worked for the orphanage for the past three years. However, Miss Hall suddenly passed away and I find I am without a position. My best friend Casey, another orphan here, like a sister to me really, suggested I answer an ad for a mail order bride. I never really knew such a thing existed but after reading the ads I realized I’m glad they do, because no one should have to be alone if they don’t wish it. If there is a shortage of women out west, I can see how such ads would prove helpful. I was drawn to your particular ad because of your honesty. I am a hard-worker, everyone here at the orphanage is, there is no other way of life. I can mind children, garden, cook, clean, sew, read and write. I can do math but really don’t care for it. I’m sorry to run on so. Hopefully the above will give you a sense of who I am. If you feel that I could wife you might be looking for, please reply as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Becca Smith
P.S. The advertisement says I am supposed to include a picture but I have never had my image captured. I could enclose a drawing one of the girls gave me a couple of days ago but then you might think I am a stick figure with balls for feet and hands, one big eye, one little, and the most frightening hair. Rest assured I am not. I am plain, of average height and dress-size, with long strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, and an annoying freckle just at the corner of my lips.
Becca set aside the pen and reached for the letter with the intention of crumpling it up into the tiniest ball and tossing it into the cook stove first thing in the morning but something held her back.
She was a bit embarrassed that she had gone on so and basically told a perfect stranger her life story. He probably wouldn’t care anyway. But what was the harm in trying? She wondered. She had never been outside the city of New York let alone this side of town. She hadn’t had the means nor any reason to.
Above the individual ads had been a note from the Sweet Creek Mail Order Br
ide Agency. Besides the request to include a picture, it also said that a train or stagecoach ticket or both if necessary, would be provided upon approval. A small smile curved Becca’s lips and just for a moment she allowed herself to dream. Travelling and adventure did hold a certain appeal. Frankly she had never let herself consider it before, getting married, or traveling, because she didn’t see it as a possibility, but now maybe it was.
Becca folded the letter. She glanced at the small clock on her nightstand and groaned. It was getting late. She would need to get up extra early if she was to snitch an envelope from Miss Hall’s office and post her response before Miss Templeton and the children awoke. It would be a long day but she needed to treasure each moment she had left with the girls even if she was so very tired.
She picked up the newspaper and went to find Casey. When she opened her bedroom door she had to stifle a scream as Casey stood there.
“Casey!” Becca whispered furiously. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”
“Sorry,” Casey said meekly, eying the newspaper in Becca’s hand. “I was going to knock.”
Becca shook her head and handed Casey the newspaper.
Casey clutched the paper against her chest and rocked back on her heels. “Well?”
Becca raised a brow and teased, “Well, what?”
Casey blew out her breath in exasperation, ruffling the bangs resting against her forehead. “Well, what did you think? Are you going to answer an ad?”
Becca nodded.
“You are?!” Casey squealed, jumping up and down.
“Shhh, you’ll wake up the children, or worse Miss Templeton,” she whispered urgently, dragging Casey inside and quietly closing the door. “I am going to answer an ad but I’m also going to continue looking for a job. And I need to find a place to stay either way. I think the chances of him picking me though are pretty slim, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”
“Oh he’ll pick you,” Casey said assuredly, her eyes sparkling. “Can I help you write the letter?”
Becca smiled at Casey’s confidence. “I’ve already written one. You can read it. It’s not very good but I’m not changing it,” she said firmly, handing the letter to Casey who took it and flopped down onto the thin mattress, unfolded the single page and began to read. Becca paced the room as Casey slowly read the letter, her lips moving with each word before she finally looked up with a smile. Becca froze in anticipation.
“It’s perfect!” Casey exclaimed.
Chapter Four
Two days later Becca stood in the foyer to Miss Hall’s Home for Girls surrounded by two dozen tearful girls. Miss Hall had always warned her not to get attached but Becca hadn’t listened. She couldn’t help but bond with them as she cooked for them, cleaned beside them, mended their dresses and brushed and braided their hair. She woke them up each morning and tucked them in each evening, taught them how to read along with basic math, played games with them and read to them whenever there was a spare moment. It had been impossible not to grow attached to them. But she didn’t regret it. However, leaving them caused her physical pain, like her heart was being ripped from her chest. She knew the girls would eventually have to move on someday, she had seen countless girls come and go over the years, but Becca had never thought it would be her that was moving on. She had always thought she would be here.
She hugged each girl individually, murmuring words of encouragement. She told the girls to be brave, to help each other and to seek happiness. She was very much aware of Miss Templeton standing on the landing above, silently observing yet radiating impatience. Becca had gotten her final paycheck only minutes before, tucked safely in the valise sitting at her feet. It wasn’t much but she needed every penny.
After hugging the last girl, Becca took a step back. The girls were looking at her expectantly. She didn’t know what else to say or do. There was really nothing else to say except a final goodbye to the group and to continue trying not to cry. If Becca thought for a moment that crying, begging or even bribing Miss Templeton would make a whit of difference she would have swallowed her pride and done it. But a quick glance up at Connie reassured her of what she already knew. Miss Templeton hated her, always would, and couldn’t wait for her to leave. In fact, this was the happiest Becca had ever seen her, observing her departure from the orphanage, her eyes bright with satisfaction, her lips slightly smirking.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Miss Templeton interrupted, clapping her hands sharply together twice. Her voice and loud claps echoed throughout the unfurnished foyer, immediately capturing the girls’ attention and quieting the room.
“Back upstairs and get ready for your studies. We are already running behind.”
“Maybe one morning Miss Templeton will go to the market and die,” one girl whispered to two others, as she grudgingly took a step toward the stairs. All three girls nodded in agreement.
“Then Becca can come back,” the third girl said hopefully, glancing over her shoulder at Becca.
Becca frowned as she overheard the conversation. She was just about to reprimand them when Mrs. Templeton interceded.
“Now!” Miss Templeton barked, twin spots of color high on her cheeks. There was no doubt in Becca’s mind that Connie had overheard the cruel conversation.
Becca knew the girls hadn’t meant it. They were good girls. They were just upset. They were bright enough to understand that Miss Templeton was the reason behind Becca leaving and they were naturally upset with her. It was understandable. If only Miss Templeton could be a little less formidable, Becca was sure the girls would grow to like and respect her too.
With a few final waves, the girls filed upstairs and out of sight, into the schoolroom to start their morning studies. After the last girl disappeared around the corner, Miss Templeton slowly descended the stairs and crossed the foyer until she stood in front of Becca.
“That’s the reason I have to let you go, you know, they completely undermine me when you’re around.”
“It was wrong what they said and I’m truly sorry. But if that was the real reason, I could have talked to them, they are reasonable girls. But that’s not the true reason, is it Connie? You’ve hated me from the very beginning and you always will,” Becca said, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. She could not cry now. Not in front of Connie. She couldn’t!
Connie shrugged indifferently. “One of the many reasons then, I suppose. I’m just so tired of you always thinking you’re better than everyone else.”
Becca gasped. “I don’t think that,” she insisted softly but Connie kept talking as if she had never spoken.
“Always being the favorite. The one everyone looks up to, listens to, admires…” She took a deep breath. “You were even Miss Hall’s favorite,” she spat hatefully. “I miss her too you know.”
For the briefest of moments, Becca saw true sorrow in Connie’s eyes over the loss of Miss Hall and Becca felt sorry for her despite how cruelly Connie had treated her.
“You’re right, I’ve always hated you. But with her gone, I can finally be rid of you and it’s the happiest day of my life,” she declared.
Becca flinched. She wanted to respond but there was no point in it. Connie wouldn’t change the way she had felt for years with just a few departing words from Becca. The hate was too old and ran far too deep.
Becca sighed and looked around for Casey but she was nowhere to be seen. Becca knew she probably wasn’t far and had overheard everything. Becca had said goodbye to her the previous evening, a long tearful one. They would talk again soon though. When Becca sent her reply to the mail order bride advertisement, she used the orphanage’s address as the return address. Casey promised to check the mail each morning before Miss Templeton could and Becca promised to check in once a week to see if there had been a response. But she wouldn’t be back for a few weeks since any earlier would be too soon to expect a response if one even came. Even though she knew she would see Casey again, she knew that it was unlikely she would see
the other girls again.
Tears filled Becca’s eyes. She avoided Miss Templeton’s hateful gaze and picked up her tattered bag containing her few possessions and turned to the door.
“They will forget you,” Miss Templeton whispered cruelly from behind her.
Becca’s hand stilled on the doorknob. She pressed her forehead against the cool wood and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sure you’re right,” she replied hollowly, hating the way her voice shook as she spoke.
She slowly turned the knob and stepped out onto the front porch, the same porch she had been abandoned on more than seventeen years ago and quietly closed the door behind her. She couldn’t see because of her tears, so she felt around and sat down on the top step, buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.
Chapter Five
Several weeks later, Becca was working as a maid in a large hotel from hours before sunrise to hours after sunset for less than fair pay. She took the first job offer she received, unwilling to gamble on when the next might come. She continued to look for other employment but she only had one day off a week, so the time she could devote to that was minimal.
She shared a room with two other girls in a boardinghouse a thirty-minute walk from the hotel. She couldn’t afford closer lodgings or transportation to and from work each day. She needed to save what little money she could. The boardinghouse was located in a less than desirable neighborhood and the room she shared was small and cramped, especially for the three of them. But she was surviving and that was what was important. She had used her meager savings to pay for the entire month because the monthly rate had been slightly better and she needed to save money where she could. If she had the time and energy she would have looked for a better place but she didn’t. Besides, she probably couldn’t afford it anyway.
