Mail Order Romance Bundle #1

by Lisa Page

  “They sound like it,” Enid said with a smile. “Say, are you hungry?” she asked him, “I haven’t eaten since that stale sandwich I had on the train. I’m good in the kitchen, can I whip us up something while you tend to the animals?”

  Jesse hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until just that moment. “That would be fine, Enid, I’d be much obliged. I don’t have much in the kitchen, though,” he started but was interrupted by a wave of her hand.

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find something, I’m sure!” she said cheerfully.

  Jesse set out to the barn, thinking to himself how different this day had turned out than he had planned. He thought he would be spending the night with his new bride and all that anxiety and excitement had built up so high that it was just as much of a let down and he realized that wasn’t to be the case. But he tried to do as Enid had said, and focus on the positive. He would get this whole situation figured out and would soon have the bride who was meant to be his. It was just a bit of a delay, that’s all. And it would teach him patience. After all, what was a little more wait, really, for someone he’d be spending the rest of his life with. Though he didn’t get to be with her tonight, at least he had some company. Even though at first he had wanted Enid to stay at the church, the thought of having someone to talk to instead of another quiet, lonely night was a pleasant change, even for an introvert such as himself. Especially because in the short time he’d known her, he found Enid to be a good listener and good company.

  That thought was invigorating and infused him with such a positive energy that he soon found himself humming. It was an old hymn that Aunt Clara had taught him, one that was upbeat and filled him with hope. The time he spent doing chores practically flew by and soon he was back at the house.

  He was coming up the front steps carrying a pail full of fresh milk when the smell hit him, it was mouthwatering and better than any smell that had come from his kitchen since he’d lived there.

  Once inside, he found the table set and Enid standing over the stove.

  “It smells awful good!” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

  Enid turned around, beaming. “Well, you may want to reserve comment until you’ve tasted it. I just cooked up what you had here, so I’m sure it won’t be a big surprise to you.”

  She brought the frying pan to the table to fill their plates as Jesse went to wash up. When he met her back at the table, he saw his plate was filled with fried potatoes, onions and salt pork and she’d made cornbread to go along with it.

  Though Enid was right and the simple ingredients were not a surprise to him, the magic she created with those ingredients was. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal that good. It was just a simple meal but the way it had been prepared was much different than his own cooking.

  “How did you get the potatoes like that?” he asked Enid. “They’re so soft yet perfectly crispy on the outside. When I try to fry potatoes, they usually turn out one of two ways, raw or burned black.”

  Enid laughed. “The trick is to make sure to cover them as they cook. That will steam them, making the insides soft while the outsides fry up crisp.”

  “Thanks for the tip, that must be it because I’ve never covered them before. What about the cornbread? It’s so moist and delicious? Mine is always dry and crumbly.”

  She smiled slyly. “Well now, Mr. Collins, a cook can’t give away all her secrets now, can she?”

  Jesse laughed as he leaned back and patted his stomach. He knew it would be a long time before he had a meal as good as that one. As he sat back, relaxed, Enid stood up and began clearing some of the dishes. He watched her as she stood and began to clear the dishes, her upper body swinging back and forth as she limped. Immediately, he jumped up and took the plates from her hands.

  “Here, let me help you with that, please,” he told her.

  “Nonsense, I’m your guest and I intend to earn my keep,” Enid answered, taking the plates back from him.

  Her tone was friendly yet firm so he relinquished the dishes without fuss. She tilted her head and gave him another look, her clear blue eyes piercing his own.

  “It doesn’t hurt, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Jesse was taken aback. “What?”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she said again, setting the plates down and pointing to her hunched back.

  “It looks like it does, I know. Everybody thinks so, and by the looks of this twisted body, I don’t blame them one bit. But I was born that way; twisted, I mean. My body is built differently than most, it makes me limp and wobble when I walk and I can’t stand fully upright. It might make me slower to get around and I won’t be winning any foot races, but it doesn’t hurt me any.”

  She must have taken notice of the sympathetic look in Jesse’s eyes, for as she picked the plates up again, she added, “And please, don’t feel sorry for me, there’s no need to waste your sympathy. My father told me right away from the time I was knee high to a mosquito that I was not to ever feel sorry for myself, that I could do everything other kids could do, but it was just going to take more work to do it. He loved me dearly but he never coddled me or let me use my condition as an excuse. He didn’t treat my any different than my sister, Fanny, and I was given just as many chores as she was.”

  “Your pa raised you right, he sounds like a good man.”

  “He was. He passed away a few years back,” she said quietly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. And your ma?”

  “She’s gone, too, but I didn’t ever get to know her. She died when I was two days old. So I don’t miss her in the same way I miss father. It’s hard to miss what you never had.”

  Jesse could relate to how she felt. He realized that she’d been such a good listener as he poured his soul out to her, sharing his story on the long drive to town, that he never asked about her own past. And now it appeared that it was very similar to his. He grabbed a dish towel and started drying the dishes as she washed them and she didn’t push him away. She let him stand there beside her, quietly helping as he waited for her to share a bit of her story.

  But that story didn’t come. At first, Jesse thought she was about to say something, but she stopped. So they stood together in silence finishing up the work. He really did want to hear her story and wanted to know more about her. He wanted to listen to her story in the same way that she had listened to him, if he could. He wasn’t given that chance, though, as it seemed that it was easier for her to listen to others than to share about herself.

  Once the dishes were finished and the kitchen was scrubbed clean, Jesse figured that Enid would want to retire to her room for the night. But he wasn’t ready, yet, for the night to end. He enjoyed her company, she made him feel at ease whether she was making him laugh or they just spent time in silence washing dishes.

  “I don’t know what the sky looks like in Milwaukee, but in this part of the country, on a clear night like tonight, you can see more stars than you could ever count. Would you like to sit on the front porch with me for a spell?”

  She was taken aback, obviously she was surprised by his request, though she soon recovered with a smile and a nod. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  Making her way to the door, she was stopped by something that caught her eye. In the corner of the room, on the wall, hung a a simply carved cherry book shelf. She walked over to the shelf, and ran a finger along the spines, tilting her head slightly to read them in the dim light from the kerosene lamp.

  She stopped her finger on one of the books and then, so softly that Jesse could barely hear her, she said, “Books are the treasured wealth of the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations.”

  “You know Thoreau?” Jesse asked.

  “You sound surprised. I think I’m more surprised that you know
Thoreau and that a bachelor farmer in Oak Grove, Nebraska has such a collection of books as this. Did these belong to the Dodds?”

  Jesse shook his head. “No, those belonged to my mother. I don’t have many things that belonged to her; she didn’t have all that much to begin with, but my Pa got rid of her clothes, her brush and comb set, her music box, anything that reminded him of her. He said he couldn’t bear to look at her things, it was too painful. But my Aunt Clara asked him if she could keep the books. My mother loved to read and as she was growing up, she acquired quite a collection.

  Aunt Clara kept them and tried to instill a love of reading in us, too. I probably wouldn’t have taken an interest in them at all, school wasn’t much my thing, but the fact that they were something that my mother cherished made me feel closer to her. Reading them brought me comfort and knowing I was touching the same pages that she had touched, reading the same words she had read over and over…it made me feel that she was with me.”

  He could see Enid’s eyes were moist with tears as he went on, “Clara gave them to me, she said she wouldn’t trust Thomas with them, he would have sold them the first chance he got. She knew how much they meant to me.”

  “What a beautiful way for your mother’s legacy to live on, she sounds like someone with a soul like my own. I’ll imagine they will be read to your own children and grandchildren someday.”

  “The love of books is in my blood, too, but through my father,” Enid said, her voice steady and clear, drawing him in. Maybe it was because he had shared so much with her, or perhaps it was because she was beginning to trust him, but he was glad to see her opening up to share her story.

  “My father had been a teacher and headmaster at a boys academy in Maine. When the war came, it changed him and he felt another calling, and that’s when he became a pastor and moved his new bride out to his new church in Milwaukee.

  Though he was passionate about his new calling, he never lost his passion for learning and filled our house with books. Despite all his efforts, though, my sister Fanny had little time for books. All of us are given different blessings in life, and as I was blessed with my father’s love of learning, Fanny was blessed with my mother’s looks-golden curls, long lashed blue eyes and a peaches and cream complexion. One of the prettiest girls I’ve ever known. But as with most pretty girls, vanity got the best of her and she was more concerned with ribbons and dresses and how many boys she could wrap around her finger. She was a bit flighty and reading, math, any academic endeavor was a great struggle to her. Though I was the younger one, it was often I who tutored her with her homework.

  I know that sounds awful to call my own sister vain and dim, but I say it out of love. For even though she was puffed up with pride, she was always sweet and loving to me and we got along better than most sisters. Her heart was bigger than her vanity. She was always looking out for me and standing up to anyone who would dare to tease me. When my feelings were hurt, she felt the pain.

  Funny how everything works out for a reason. Fanny had no interest in books but with her beauty, she had no problem finding a husband. She had her choice of men who fought over her.

  I, on the other hand, am not one to look at, so finding a husband who would take me as a bride has been a great challenge. But I love books, storybooks and books of history and science and poetry…I love them all. I would not trade my books for Fanny’s looks in a hundred lifetimes.

  Fanny got married at eighteen and moved away and leaving me to take care of father. But nothing gave me greater pleasure than to look after him; it was one of the happiest times of my life. I did the cooking and housekeeping. In the evenings, I would help him practice his sermons and we would read together, in front of the cozy fire and tell each other stories and discuss great ideas. What a wonderful life it was…

  My life went on like that for some years until my father passed away unexpectedly. Suddenly, I realized that without a husband or father to support me, I needed to find a way to support myself. Naturally, I turned to teaching, but soon found out that I was not meant to be a teacher. Young children come in two different kinds-the kind that are oblivious to physical appearance and can see your soul, and the ones who not only take notice of physical appearance but do so with childlike brutal honesty. I had an abundance of those type of children and the school board decided that I was a distraction to the pupils, ‘hindering their learning’ is what I believe they said.”

  “That’s ridiculous! What a wonderful teacher you must have been,” Jesse said. He hadn’t meant to interrupt her, but he was indignant at the injustice Enid had suffered for no fault of her own.

  “Yes, well, everything happens for a reason, and I realized it was God’s way of letting me know that I must have had a different calling in life.

  My sister invited me to move in with her family and help out with the children. I did the cooking and tutoring the children and felt like I was earning my keep. And though Fanny thought she had her hands full with them, they were so full of spirit, oh, how I loved them so!

  Little Anna was blessed with both her mother’s beauty but had none of her vanity, she was so humble and sweet and loved to curl up on my lap. What a sweet one she is!

  Next was Toby who not only was given my father’s name, but by the grace of the heavens was given the same kind, soulful hazel eyes. It was like seeing my father again every time I looked at him.

  Last was little Jack, the most mischievous and rambunctious of all. Oh what a lively spirit he had. He wore out his parents and me, but charmed us with his dimpled, cherubic smile. He would beg me to tell him stories and it was usually the only way to quiet him down.

  I loved being there, but I believe that Fanny’s husband, Will, thought my visit to be a temporary one and the longer I stayed, the more unwelcome he made me feel. It was only out of his love for Fanny that he tolerated me, though I have no idea what I might have done to make him feel as if I were an intrusion on his family. He made me feel very unwelcome. I decided that it was best for me to leave. Though I know sweet Fanny would have kept me as long as I wanted to stay, I didn’t want to cause any problems between her and her husband and thought it the best thing to do.

  By chance as I was returning home from church the day after I had made the decision. It was a windy day and a newspaper blew right up into my face, covering it so I couldn’t even see where I was going!

  It took me by shock and when I pulled it off, I happened to look down and what do you think I saw? Why, it was an ad for the Beaumont Mail Order Bride agency for men who were seeking brides, without ever having set eyes on them. What a strange idea, I thought to myself.

  I know what you’re probably thinking, if I couldn’t get a man to marry me for free, how on earth would I get someone to pay money for me, I know it sounds absurd. But these men lived in all parts of the country where women were scarce, the paper said. They needed women to cook and clean for them, help run homes and perhaps bring a bit of civilization with them.

  And that’s how I ended up here. Though, the agency must have had some sort of mix up that they sent me here to you when you were expecting someone else.”

  She was quiet then and Jesse felt his cheeks flush. Her story had moved him, touched him in a way that he felt as if her story were his story. That golden voice of hers could transport him to another time and place. What a divine gift she possessed to breathe life into words. He wondered to himself how he would have felt about this mistake had Enid been a physically beautiful woman. He felt ashamed of himself as how he remembered the initial horror he’d felt at the thought of having to marry Enid. After only spending a few hours with her, he no longer saw the humped back or jutting jaw. He saw her sparkling eyes and could hear her voice that left its memory in his mind, smooth as silk.

  She, like him, was an orphan, alone in the world and, also like him, she wanted to find her place and create her own family. It was a need that came from the depths of his soul and he felt co
nnected to her because they shared that need.

  He hadn’t spoken yet and Enid’s face held a trace of worry. “I’ve said too much,” she said, “I am quite sure I’ve bored you with my tale.”

  “No,” he replied quickly. “On the contrary, you’ve left me spellbound. Our stories are different yet in some ways, the same. We’ve shared the same pain.”

  Jesse truly hoped that she would find a man who would be worthy of her and give her a happy life.

  “Do you still feel like sitting for a spell on the porch?” he asked her, hoping that she’d say yes. He was enjoying her company too much for the night to end.

  Enid nodded and followed him out to the porch where the air was cooler now that the sun had set, with the breeze of night blowing gently over the land. They settled in some well worn rocking chairs, and Jesse thought about mentioning how they came from the Dodds but seeing the grin on Enid’s face, he knew she was already thinking it.

  It was a beautiful cloudless night that revealed the glory of endless stars. Jesse didn’t think of Enid as someone who could ever be speechless, but the stars had proven him wrong. She sat staring with her mouth wide open, only muttering “Oh! Oh!” at the sight of them.

  “I never could have imagined!” she finally exclaimed. “There are so many more stars here than in Milwaukee. I imagine you never get tired of this. Look at them all!”

  Jesse did have to admit, it was a majestic sight. It made him feel so small and insignificant in the big wide world, just a little speck on this planet.

  Enid was in a state of sheer excitement. She was pointing wildly at stars and yelling out names. Names that Jesse had never heard before; he didn’t even know that stars had names. But Enid seemed to know them all as if they were old friends.