Mail Order Minx
Book Twelve in the Brides of Beckham
By Kirsten Osbourne
Copyright 2014 Kirsten Osbourne
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When Millie's friend, Berta, elopes instead of fulfilling her obligations to be a mail order bride, she decides to take her friend's place and be the best mail order bride a man has ever seen. Of course, she can't exactly cook, and she enjoys meddling in other people's lives under the guise of "helping them," but surely, her future husband won't mind that.
Connor waits excitedly for his Berta to get off the train in Idaho, knowing that she is the answer to his prayers. She's an excellent cook and a hard worker, just what he needs for his restaurant. He's confused when Millie gets off the train in her place, but he accepts the switch good-naturedly. His bride has married someone else, after all. What could possibly go wrong?
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Chapter One
Mildred looked at Berta and shook her head. "What are you going to do? You sent a letter to Connor in Idaho. What are you going to do when he mails your train ticket?" She couldn't believe her friend was going to just not show up for the man who was supposed to be her husband.
Millie had gone with Berta to a mail order bride agency over a month before, but Berta had since changed her mind. Millie was unsure how anyone could do something so selfish, but Berta seemed to think that her happiness was the only thing that was important at all.
Berta shrugged. "I have no idea what to do. How was I supposed to know Harvey would come back and want to marry me?" She raised her hands palm up as if to say she had no choice in the decision she made.
Millie couldn't believe how selfish her friend was being. Poor Connor O'Reilly had sent off for a mail order bride, and he should by God have a mail order bride coming to him. "Let's go talk to Elizabeth Miller. Maybe there's time to send him a letter before he sends out your train tickets." She would do whatever she could to make up for her friend's error. She didn't know why, but she'd always felt she should right the wrongs of others. She was good at it, and she hated knowing people were upset with one another.
Berta nodded. "All right, but I have to be home by four. I need to have time to cook Harvey a good supper before he gets home from work." Harvey, Berta's new husband, worked at the hotel Millie's father owned.
Millie thought about everything she knew about Connor O'Reilly, her heart hurting for him. He was an Irish immigrant who had lived in Idaho for five years. He'd worked hard and started his own hotel and restaurant. His letter requested a wife who knew how to cook well so she could help with the restaurant. She couldn't get the poor man out of her mind as they walked toward Elizabeth's home.
Berta could not stop talking about Harvey. "He's so caring and considerate. Why just last night he took off his shoes so he wouldn't trample any more mud on my freshly washed floors. He tried to keep me from having a lot of work." Her voice was filled with love as she talked about the husband she thought was absolutely perfect.
Millie shook her head, noting that Berta hadn't said he'd cleaned up the floors he'd already tracked mud on. She'd never been a big fan of Harvey's, but her friend already knew that, and she wasn't going to start a fight by saying anything. Berta's biggest shortcoming, to Millie's way of thinking, was her blind spot where Harvey Land was concerned.
They finally reached Elizabeth's house, and Berta gripped Milie's hand tightly, obviously nervous about telling Elizabeth what she'd done.
A blond man came to the door, just as he had every other time they'd come. He let them in and led them through the house to Elizabeth, who was sitting at her desk. He cleared his throat, and she turned smiling. "Oh, Berta! I was just about to come see you." She nodded to Mildred who had come with her on her previous visit. "Your letter came today." She looked to the butler. "Tea and cookies, Bernard?"
Bernard nodded, and closed the door behind him as he left. Once he had, Elizabeth turned to Berta with a smile, handing her a letter. Berta stared down at it as if she were afraid it would burn her. She looked at Millie imploringly, as if she were trying to get her to do her talking for her.
Millie sighed. "She eloped last week. It was all I could do to drag her here to tell you today. I hoped we could get a letter to him before he spent the money on a train ticket." She was annoyed that Berta wouldn't even talk about what had happened herself, and instead, Millie had to explain it all. Why wasn't her friend more responsible?
Elizabeth's face fell. "Do you know this has never happened to me? I'm not sure what to do."
Millie took the letter and opened it. "Well, hopefully he said he didn't want her to come and that you need to keep looking." She read the letter quickly as a train ticket fell into her lap. "Dear Berta, You sound like the woman I've been waiting my entire life for. I can't wait to have you here with me so we can build our lives together. I've enclosed a train ticket that will leave Beckham on Monday and you'll arrive here in Idaho approximately ten days later. I know it will be a long trip, but I'll be waiting for you at the train station. I am tall with red hair. I can't wait to see you. Adoringly, Connor."
She read the letter once more before setting it down carefully. "Your train leaves Monday." She sighed. "Now what do we do?" Millie looked between Elizabeth and Berta, hoping one of them would come up with a viable solution, but they both simply stared back at her.
Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two women. "Can you cook?" she asked, looking at Millie.
Millie frowned. Was Elizabeth suggesting she go in her friend's place? She'd always lived in a home where servants took care of all of her needs. She'd tried to cook once or twice, but always with the family's cook standing over her. She could probably do it though. It was just following a bunch of recipes, wasn't it? Besides, she needed an adventure.
"I enjoy cooking," Millie said. It wasn't exactly a lie. She'd enjoyed it the few times she'd done it.
"Would you consider...?" Elizabeth couldn't even finish the sentence.
Slowly Millie nodded. "I think that's a good idea. He'll get a wife, and I'll go out West. I always thought I'd do better there than here anyway." From what she'd heard, people in the West appreciated strong women, and Millie was strong. She knew she was able to do a lot to help others, and she was determined to make a difference. Out West was where she belonged. She just knew it.
Berta looked at Millie in shock. "You can't go!"
Millie frowned at Berta. "We promised the man a wife. He paid a lot of money for that train ticket, and he deserves a wife." She tried to keep the anger at her friend out of her voice. She knew she was being unreasonable, but how could Berta not fulfill her promise? What was wrong with her?
"Your parents will never let you go!"
Millie just shrugged. Her parents had always let her do pretty much whatever she'd wanted to do. "They'll be fine." If they weren't fine with it right away, she'd talk them into it. It wasn't like she would be marrying a man who was wanted by the law. He was an upstanding citizen who happened to own a hotel and restaurant. Her father couldn't help but approve.
Elizabeth breathe
d a sigh of relief. "Can you be ready to go in three days?"
"I don't see why not. I have everything I could possibly need. It's just a matter of packing a few things." Once her mind was made up, Millie wasn't one to waste time. She'd go home and pack her things straight away. She was off for an adventure that would serve two purposes--making up for her friend's betrayal and getting out of Beckham.
"I'll meet you at the train station on Monday then to see you off. What time does your train leave?"
Millie looked at the ticket. "Noon." Unlike many young women her age, Millie had taken trains many times. Her family had traveled a great deal.
Bernard came in then with a tray laden with tea and cookies. They sat and drank the tea, talking about what they knew about Idaho, which wasn't very much. "I know they're trying to get statehood, but so far they haven't managed it," Berta said with a frown. For some reason, Berta had thought it was a great adventure when she was going, but now that it was Millie going to marry Connor, it was a frightening prospect.
Millie took a sip of her tea. "I'm certain it's just a matter of time. I mean, everyone around them is being granted statehood." Millie wasn't worried. She needed the change, needed the adventure. Her life was about to change, and she would do nothing to stop it.
Elizabeth looked between the two women. "Are your parents going to be upset about this?"
"Oh no," Millie responded. "They have my three younger sisters. They say I'm the most troublesome of the lot anyway." She shrugged. "My father always calls me his little minx." She knew she was exaggerating a bit, but her parents usually let her do whatever she wanted to do. She smiled as she thought about spending long days with her husband, walking hand in hand with him. Her life would be good. She wouldn't settle for anything less.
*****
Millie waited until after dinner that evening to broach the subject of leaving with her parents. Her sisters had gone upstairs to play and she cornered her parents in the parlor where her father was reading a newspaper and her mother was knitting. It was their usual way to spend an evening together. Neither of them would speak at all unless one of their daughters came into the room.
Her mother looked up at her. "May I talk to you both?" Millie asked politely, taking the spot beside her mother on the sofa against one wall of the room. Her father sat in an arm chair perpendicular to the sofa. Millie sat between them both.
"What do you need?" her father asked, his voice harsh, but it didn't bother Millie. That was just his way.
"I've agreed to move out West as a mail order bride," Millie told them, preferring to get hard tasks over with quickly. She sat quietly looking from her father to her mother to see who would speak first. Probably her mother, because she tended to get more upset over Millie's schemes than her father did.
Her mother gaped at her. "A mail order bride? You can't just leave to be a mail order bride."
"I'll be going to Idaho Territory to marry a man who owns a hotel and restaurant. His name is Connor." Millie continued speaking as if her mother had never said anything, knowing that if her father agreed, her mother would agree. It was how their marriage worked.
Mr. Barrington carefully folded his paper and put it on the coffee table in front of him, watching his eldest daughter carefully. She'd never shown much interest in marriage, although she'd attended all the parties they'd insisted she attend. "Why?" he asked.
Millie took a deep breath, knowing that her answer to this question would be the only thing he would take into consideration. "I've read a lot of books about the West, and I find it fascinating. There are no men here that I'm interested in, and I'm already twenty-two years old. It's time I marry, as you've told me many times. This opportunity has presented itself, and I think it's time I do the adult thing and forge my own destiny." She deliberately left out the part about it being Berta who had actually answered the letter.
Her father looked at her as if he were trying to discern whether she was lying by the look on her face. "Are you certain that's what you want?" he asked.
She nodded, not at all certain, but knowing she needed to make a change. There was a restlessness inside her that couldn't be addressed while she lived here with her family. She needed this with everything inside her, and she was suddenly thankful to Berta for backing out of the marriage and giving her this opportunity. "Yes, Father. It's not only what I want. It's what I need."
Nothing was said for well over a minute while her father thought about his decision. She'd had enough experience with him that she knew he was trying to decide what he should say, so she remained silent, knowing speaking to him further about it would only delay his decision.
Finally he gave a brief nod. "When will you leave?" His words gave Millie permission to carry out her plans, and she knew it. She felt her mother tense up beside her, but she knew that the hard part was over. If her father agreed, then she could go. It was as simple as that.
Millie let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "I have a train ticket leaving out of Beckham at noon on Monday."
"You'll need to have everything ready before then, and that's going to be a chore." He picked his newspaper up again and began reading, although he lowered it after a moment. "Just remember you have a home to come back to if things don't work out with your Connor."
"Thank you, Father." Millie could see by the look on her mother's face that she didn't approve of her father's decision, but as usual, she didn't argue with him. She never had, and she never would. As far as Sylvia Barrington was concerned, a man's home was his castle and his wife was his to command. It was a philosophy that she hadn't been able to pass on to her headstrong eldest daughter.
Millie stood and walked toward the doorway. "I'll go upstairs and start sorting through my things now." She practically skipped from the room as she rushed up the stairs to start packing. She was really going to move to Idaho and marry a total stranger. Why was she so excited at the prospect?
As she walked toward the stairs, Millie heard, "Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Gus?"
"Don't worry about her, Sylvia. She'll come home if there are any problems. Our little minx can take care of herself."
Millie smiled at the words of praise and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She loved it when her father called her his minx. She didn't know why the word felt like such an endearment to her, but it did. She entered the room she shared with her sister, Carrie, and told her quickly what she'd done. "Will you help me pack?"
Carrie stared at her sister in awe. "You've lost your mind, Millie."
Millie shrugged. "I've been feeling like I needed to do something crazy for a long time. This may be just what I need." She stood up and got two large carpet bags out from under the bed she shared with Carrie. "I need to decide what to take and what to leave. I won't have room for all of my clothes, and I doubt if Father would agree to ship them all." Millie ignored her sister's shocked looked and set about accomplishing her task. If she had help, that would be wonderful. If not? She'd do it herself. She was determined.
Carrie got to her feet and helped, and the two of them worked well into the night. It was Friday, and they only had two days to get her ready. Millie was a little nervous but very excited. She was going to get married.
*****
Millie spent all day Saturday at Berta's house having her friend give her some very basic cooking lessons. Berta kept shaking her head. "He's not going to be happy when he realizes you can't even fry an egg," she finally said after hours of working with Millie who had yet to fry an egg without leaving a huge piece of shell in with the egg.
Millie shrugged. "I'll be a good wife in other ways." She couldn't imagine the man actually getting angry with her for not being able to cook. What kind of husband would do such a thing? "Do you really think he'll care?" How could any man look at her and say she wasn't good enough for what he needed. She had always had boys surrounding her trying to catch her attention. Surely Connor would be like all the others. When he realiz
ed how good she was at helping people, he'd forgive her for not being able to cook.
Berta looked at Millie in disbelief. "He wants someone who can cook for his restaurant. Of course, he'll care."
"I'm taking recipes with me. I'll figure them out." Millie refused to be concerned about it. She was a pretty woman, and many men had been interested in her. Besides, they could always hire someone to cook.
*****
Connor O'Reilly was getting more excited every day. His new wife would be there in less than two weeks. He flipped the sign in the restaurant from open to closed and went through the lobby of the hotel to climb the stairs to his room. Someday he'd have the money to buy a home and not have to live in one of the rooms in the hotel, but that day was not today.
He looked forward to Berta's arrival. It would be easier with someone else to share the cooking burden with him. Finding front desk help had always been easy. Finding a cook had eluded him. He smiled as he thought about the bride he was waiting for. He didn't care about beauty. What he cared about more than anything was having a sweet wife who could cook.
He needed a woman who would be biddable, do as she was told, and be willing to work as much as possible. Was that too much to ask?
Sweet Berta sounded like all those things were just what she was looking for, so he was looking forward to finally meeting her. He looked around the tiny room he lived in. He left the nicer rooms for the paying customers, who he could charge a little more for the nice room. He and Berta would take the tiny room. The bed was big enough for two. That and the dresser were all they really needed. They would share the bathroom down the hall with the hotel's other guests and be thankful they had one.
When his sweet bride, finally arrived, he would celebrate like no man had ever celebrated. He had a wedding planned for the afternoon of her arrival, and he'd even arranged to close down the restaurant for a day. To take a full day off was a true celebration. He hoped his Berta was suitably grateful.
Mail Order Minx: Fountain of Love (Brides of Beckham) Page 1
