Mail Order Mistake

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Mail Order Mistake

  Book Five in the Brides of Beckham

  By Kirsten Osbourne

  Copyright 2013 Kirsten Osbourne

  Nook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to barnesandnoble.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Malinda thinks her life is over after the death of her father and her subsequent eviction from the only home she’s ever known. She, along with her sister, answers an advertisement for mail order brides and their lives change. She agrees to marry a banker in a small town in Colorado, because she refuses to be afraid of where her next meal will come from ever again. When she arrives in Colorado, she immediately falls for the handsome gentleman who picks her up at the train station, but he’s her sister’s fiancé, not hers!

  Chapter One

  May 1885

  Gammonsville, Colorado

  Patrick took a sip of his water, eyeing his brother Wesley over the top. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you for dinner.” They were eating dinner in Patrick’s home just a five minute walk from the bank where he worked.

  Patrick and Wesley were brothers. Patrick was older by three years, and the two men looked a great deal alike. They were both tall with dark hair and brown eyes, but Patrick, who owned the only bank in the small town of Gammonsville, Colorado was slimmer while Wesley was more muscular.

  Wesley nodded. “Usually I just show up. I didn’t think you even knew how to ask me to come over.” He leaned back in his chair with a grin. Wesley was as happy-go-lucky as Patrick was serious. In personality they were polar opposites, but for all the things that mattered, they were alike.

  “Yeah, you come over to charm my housekeeper.” Patrick tried to scowl at his brother, but really he was amused by the way Wesley sought to charm the housekeeper into inviting him for dinner practically every night.

  Wesley shrugged the devil-may-care grin on his face lighting up the room. “I only do what I do best.”

  Patrick sighed and got straight to the point. “I’m ready to marry.”

  Wesley grinned. “Where’d you find a woman?” The only available women in town were either too young, too old or too mean. There was only one who was too mean, but neither man was willing to even look at her let alone marry her.

  “I haven’t.” He picked up a small piece of paper from beside his plate and handed it to Wesley. It had obviously been cut out of a newspaper. Patrick watched his brother’s face carefully as he took the paper and looked down at it.

  Wesley read it aloud. “Are you lonely? Do you need a bride? Brides from the East are eager to travel West to marry you. If interested, send a letter about yourself to Mrs. Harriett Long in Beckham Massachusetts. Small fee applies.” His eyes met Patrick’s. “Seriously? You want a mail order bride?”

  Patrick shrugged. “There are no women in the area that are of marriageable age. I’m ready to start a family.” And frankly, he didn’t want to have to take the time off work to court a woman. This would be easier.

  Wesley studied his brother carefully. “Sounds like a good idea.” He handed the advertisement back to Patrick. “I wish I could join you.”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Why can’t you?” Patrick waited for Wesley to tell him the same reason he always gave him for not being able to do things. He’d been frustrated forever by his brother’s stance on money.

  “Lack of money.”

  “Would you do it if you had the money?”

  “How much are we talking?”

  “I’ve written to the woman. She said her fee is only ten dollars per bride, but then you have to pay for their travel expenses, and a small stipend is usually sent to help the bride with new clothes and anything else she may need before she leaves to come out here.”

  Wesley shook his head. “I couldn’t even afford the train ticket.”

  “I’m offering to do it for you. I wish you’d just let me give you your share of the money from the gold mine.” Patrick knew his brother was the most hard-headed human being on the planet, but he still wished he could convince him.

  “It’s not my share. You paid me for my time in digging. Why would you give me half the money from it?”

  “I agreed to pay you for your time before we realized you had no gold at all in your mine.” Patrick’s eyes were sad as they had the same argument they’d had many times before. “Why are you so stubborn about this?”

  “Why are you so generous? I don’t want your money, big brother.”

  “Fine. May I pay your bride’s expenses?” He desperately wanted his brother to have a wife at the same time he did. He loved his brother, but it would be nice to be able to eat alone with his wife at least once during their first year of marriage.

  Wesley thought it over for a moment. “I do want to marry, but I hate the idea of you footing my bill for it. How about you pay, and I’ll pay you back, even if it’s only a dollar a month for the rest of my life.”

  Patrick shook his head. “Fine. But if you have to miss a payment, I’m not going to hold it against you.”

  “How do you make your living again?”

  “I’m the world’s softest banker. What can I say? Sob stories break my heart.” Patrick knew he was terrible with evicting families. He did everything he could possibly do to give people another chance, and sometimes just let them live on their property with no payments. If he hadn’t had so much of his own money, his bank would have gone under in three months flat.

  Wesley laughed. “That’s why you’ve never called on me to evict anyone. I know of at least three families who should have been kicked out of their homes more than once.”

  “Probably.” He ate a forkful of baked potato coated with butter. “Let’s write the letters after supper. By the end of the summer, we can be married. Who knows? In a year, we may each have babies to bounce on our knees.”

  *****

  June 1885

  Beckham, Massachusetts

  Malinda stared down at the freshly covered grave, tears streaming down her face. “How are we ever going to go on without him?” Some of her black hair had come out of her bun from the high winds, and her brown eyes were red from the crying she’d been doing for the past two days. “He was the most wonderful man in the world.” If not the most wonderful man in the entire world, he was the most wonderful man in her world.

  Ellen sighed and nodded, reaching out to hold her sister’s hand. “He was.”

  “You didn’t know him like I did. You were always so much closer to mother.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I followed him around like a lost puppy for years until he made me stay inside and help you after mother died.” She glanced at her sister, who was also crying. “I’m still terrible at housework.”

  Ellen let out a feeble laugh. “You’re getting better.”

  Malinda shook her head. “I know I’m not. You have to tell me how to do everything.” She blew her nose loudly into her handkerchief, thankful the small group of mourners from their church had already left and she didn’t have to be delicate about it. “I can hoe a row of corn faster than you, though. And milk a cow? I can milk four cows in the time it takes you to do one.” She knew it wasn’t something to brag about, but with as good as Ellen was at everything in the house, she had to be better at something.

  Ellen slipped her arm around her younger sister’s shoulders. “You sure can. You’re also a much better seamstress than I am.”


  “I am not,” Malinda said in shock. “What makes you say that?” She wasn’t better at anything that had to do with “women’s work” than her sister. Ellen just seemed to do all the things Malinda struggled with naturally.

  Ellen steered her sister toward the waiting wagon. “You just are. I’m a decent seamstress, but I’m better in the kitchen.” Ellen didn’t seem upset or jealous, just matter of fact. Malinda found herself wishing for what seemed like the millionth time that she could be more like Ellen.

  They walked slowly to the wagon and Ellen drove them home. It was a beautiful summer day, and they both wished they were out in it under better circumstances. “We need to figure out what Father did with the money,” Malinda said. She’d been thinking about it, and she knew their father wouldn’t leave them with nothing. He couldn’t. He was too good a man for that.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, Father knew we only had a little bit of food left, so there must be some money somewhere. Otherwise we wouldn’t have made it through the month.” She shrugged. “So there must be money. You’ll help me look, right?”

  Ellen nodded hesitantly. “We’ll look.” She obviously thought Malinda was grasping at straws, but she didn’t argue with her about it.

  Malinda sighed. “I almost feel guilty for worrying about food and money right after we bury him, but we need to eat.” She put her hand over her flat stomach. Just the thought of not having food was making her hungry, and she’d had a big breakfast just hours before.

  “You’re right. We do. We have to go on without him, but we’ll both miss him for the rest of our lives.”

  “I can’t believe he’s really gone.” Every time she realized she would never see him again, she wanted to cry. How could she spend the rest of her life without him to help her make the right decisions?

  “I can’t either. He was our rock after Mother died. How are we going to get through this without his shoulder to cry on?”

  Malinda took Ellen’s hand in hers. “At least we have each other.” She rested her head on Ellen’s shoulder as they drove. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life without her sister as well. No matter what happened, they had to stay together.

  *****

  For the next two weeks the sisters tore the house apart, leaving no stone unturned as they looked for the money they were certain their father must have hidden somewhere. They cut open his mattress, checked inside his work boots, and even dug up holes in various places around the farm. “Where could it be?” Malinda asked near the end of the second week.

  “I’m beginning to think there isn’t any money.” Ellen shook her head tiredly.

  “But there has to be! What would we have eaten if he’d been alive?” Maybe he’d planned on hunting. Or sending them into the woods for berries, which they’d done from time to time. Maybe Ellen was right and there really was no money.

  Ellen simply shrugged and kept looking, but they found nothing.

  Finally Ellen told Malinda it was time to stop looking. “There’s just nothing here. We’re going to have to find a way to eat until the dairy pays us on the first.” She sat back on the floor with her back to the wall, exhausted.

  Malinda shook her head. “There has to be! Father wouldn’t leave us destitute.”

  Ellen looked at her sister and shook her head. “Father didn’t mean to die. He didn’t know he was leaving us.” He’d had a heart attack while weeding the corn fields, and they’d found him when he didn’t come home for supper. Ellen placed a hand on Malinda’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m so sorry.”

  Malinda felt a moment of sheer panic. What were they going to do with no money and no one to make any for them? They’d have to find a job, but what could they do? She’d make a good farm assistant, but there was nothing else she felt qualified for.

  “Let’s go make dinner. We have one more pot of beans left.” Ellen stood and went down to the kitchen, not waiting for Malinda to follow her.

  Malinda stared around their father’s sparse room for another minute or two before standing to go down to help. Ellen was right. They had searched everywhere there was to search. What else was left?

  She walked to the kitchen and saw Ellen boiling the beans. “Are we going to have cornbread with them?”

  Ellen shook her head. “We have only a little bit of cornmeal left. I thought we could have beans now and cornbread for supper.”

  Malinda nodded sadly. She hated beans, but she could tolerate them if she had cornbread with them. She knew her sister was right, though. She’d seen Ellen making sure she took smaller portions so Malinda could eat more. She’d started to protest, but her dresses were already hanging off her. Arguing would be futile anyway.

  “After supper, I’m going to take Father’s rifle and see if I can get some meat. We have to have something more.” Malinda looked at Ellen. “Maybe you could come and see if you can find some berries. Between us, we should be able to get enough food for another meal or two.”

  Ellen looked at Malinda skeptically. “You’ve never shot the gun. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Malinda sighed. “It’s better than starving to death.”

  It was while they were doing the lunch dishes and talking about how they would survive that a banker came to the house. Malinda couldn’t force herself to speak as she watched Ellen argue with the man. Father had hated bankers, so at first, Malinda couldn’t force herself to believe the man’s words, but Father’s signature had been there clear as day on the bottom of the contract. They had nothing. Three days to get out and they could take their clothes. Nothing else.

  The sisters quickly made a plan to go to town and find jobs. They hoped they could stay together because in all of her nineteen years, Malinda had been with her sister every day.

  Malinda stared at the buggies going by on the street as Ellen quickly scanned through the newspaper’s help wanted section. Surely there would be some job they could do where they could be close together. Maybe Ellen could cook for a family while she took care of their garden? That made no sense. Besides, she’d come to hate being outside because it reminded her too much of their father.

  “Anything?” Malinda asked when Ellen looked up from the paper.

  Ellen read aloud an advertisement for mail order brides. What was she thinking? How could they possibly be together if they both married and moved off to God knows where?

  She agreed, because there seemed to be no alternative, and they made the walk to Rock Creek Road where the advertisement had said to speak with Mrs. Harriett Long. Malinda was in shock when she saw the obviously wealthy home. She’d never seen a home that beautiful, let alone had business there.

  She let Ellen do the talking again. She was introduced to a tall dark man, she assumed was the butler who led them in to see Mrs. Long. Harriett was a big surprise for Malinda. She was a beautiful young woman. She couldn’t have been more than thirty. Her hair was pulled back in the latest fashion, and her dress must have been silk. When she stood, she did so favoring one leg.

  Ellen looked at the two letters Harriett handed her and handed one off to Malinda. Malinda read it carefully. “Dear potential bride, My name is Patrick Harris, and I’m a banker in the town of Gammonsville, Colorado. I moved here with my brother and was able to strike it rich in the gold mines. I’m looking for a woman between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four who wouldn’t mind hosting occasional parties for other bankers. She must be of good moral character, and as I would like a child or two, I’d like her to be in good health. Looks are not terribly important to me. I myself am tall with dark hair and dark eyes. I work a lot of hours, so you must be able to entertain yourself. I hope to hear from you soon. Yours, Patrick.”

  Malinda stared at the words. She could handle hosting a party and had no trouble keeping herself occupied. She loved the idea of being married to a banker, not because she wanted to be wealthy, but because she couldn’t stand the idea of being poor. She was terrified of finding herself
in the type of situation she was in now ten years down the road when she had young children to worry about.

  She re-read the letter one more time, making certain she’d missed nothing. He said nothing about looking for a good woman to love or caring anything about who the woman was. Just that she have good morals, be able to bear children and willing to host parties. He sounded easy to please.

  She only half listened as Harriett and Ellen made arrangements for the two of them to stay at Harriett’s as they waited for their responses from the brothers. When Harriett handed her a pen, ink and paper to respond, she got to work immediately.

  “Dear Patrick, I’m nineteen years old, and have good strong morals. I go to church every week and try to live the way the Bible teaches. I know you said you don’t care what a woman looks like, but just so you know, I have dark hair and brown eyes. I enjoy reading a great deal. I’ve recently lost my father and am still mourning his death. He was a man every father should aspire to be like. I will never stop missing him. I have no problem entertaining myself and I’m in good health. My sister Ellen is responding to your brother’s letter. I hope we’ll be able to stay together, because she’s the only family I have left, and I can’t imagine what life would be like without her in it. I would be happy to occasionally host dinner parties for your fellow bankers. I’ve never done anything like that, but I’m certain I could learn. I hope to hear from you soon. Yours, Malinda.”

  She read back over her words carefully, making sure she’d spelled everything correctly and had used good penmanship. She didn’t want to make a bad first impression on him. Finally she handed the letter to Harriett, who read it over quickly and folded it.

  They made arrangements to come back the following morning, and the two sisters started the short walk home. They’d have to carry everything they owned through the streets of Beckham the following day. The only thing they had to pack their clothes into was a large trunk. She shuddered as she thought of the sight they would make, each of them hefting the edge of a large trunk as they walked through town. Maybe they could drive the wagon into town and then leave it at the bank. It was the only way she could think to keep from having to carry it down the street.