Jessie: Bride of South Carolina (American Mail-Order Bride 8)

by Rose Gordon

  So far, all the male employers have eight arms, or so it seems, and lie in wait to spring upon unsuspecting female employees when the lady of the house is absent or occupied. Honestly, Jessie, I can’t imagine my father or one of his friends acting in such a vile manner, but they must be in the minority. Perhaps having the wealth to hire housemaids changes a man and he suddenly grows tentacles and develops lecherous intentions.

  Although Papa long ago showed us how to shield ourselves from insistent swains, apparently Mercy and I should take up fencing and fisticuffs to fully protect ourselves. So far, we’ve each“defended”our way out of a job. We are hopeful next week will offer acceptable positions with docile employers. If not, perhaps we should only seek work for widows so we’ll have no need to guard our innocence.

  If you have no other recourse, I urge you to consult Elizabeth Miller of Beckham, Mass. According to Roberta, Miss Miller thoroughly checks the background for the groom before she matches him with a bride. In fact, Roberta is on her way to Wisconsin to marry a man Miss Miller found for her. Earlier this year, Roberta’s sister became a mail-order bride and found happiness in Kansas. I believe many other former coworkers who don’t have family in Lawrence are choosing to become mail-order brides.

  Please take care and let me know what course you choose,

  Fondly,

  Your cousin, Patience

  “What do you plan to do now?”Anna asked tentatively. She’d never be so childish as to say anything to Jessie, but a small part of her was relieved that Jessie wasn’t leaving the county.

  “Become a mail-order bride, I suppose,”Jessie said flippantly, setting the letter aside.

  Anna ignored the tears she saw welling in Jessie’s eyes. Anna might have been born a Yank and Jessie a Southern Belle, but even Anna knew Jessie was no simpering miss and would sooner have her own hair pulled out before letting someone think she was weak.“Why not just marry one of the gentlemen here, then?”

  “I’d rather kiss a hog—”she wrinkled her nose, adding— “on the snout.”

  Anna nearly choked on her laughter. She might not be invited many places, but she’d been to town enough times to hear the name Joel Cunninghamlinked with Jessie’s. Anna had only met the man once, but that was all it took for her to believe gossip had actually been right for once.“I have a hard time believing that.”

  Jessie’s green eyes flew to Anna’s then she dropped her gaze and shrugged.“I don’t know what you’ve heard around town, but—”She shrugged again, then pushed to her feet and tapped her finger against her chin.“I can do this.”She picked up her cousin’s letter and scanned it again.“Do you have any writing paper?”

  Suppressing a groan, Anna handed her a piece of paper and a fountain pen, dooming herself to a life of isolation and friendlessness in the process.

  Chapter Five

  Jessie called it. Three miles later they came into a town. It wasn’t the biggest town they’d passed through since leaving Williamsburg County, but it had an inn, albeit one that couldn’t have more than three guest rooms.

  “We have no rooms left,”the clerk said.

  Joel looked down at Jessie. Her hair had fallen hours ago and her eyes had dark rings under them. She needed rest.

  “Now I know how Mary and Joseph felt.”She tried to smile, but it just didn’t stick.

  The clerk grinned and raised a finger.“We do have room in the stable.”

  “Absolutely not,”Jessie said.

  “Nearest town is ten miles south.”

  “Where did you say those stables were?”Joel asked deflecting the elbow Jessie was trying to jab into his side.

  Joel strained to hear the clerk’s simple directions, then wrapped his arm around Jessie’s waist and hauled her out to the wagon with him.

  “Either we stay here, in the shelter of the stable, or we sleep on the side of the road.”He placed his hands on his hips.“You decide.”

  Jessie pursed her lips.“It’s only ten miles.”Her eyes lit.“Then we’ll be ten miles closer—”

  “Or dead,”he said with a snort, handing her up into the wagon then climbing in next to her.

  She sighed.“I suppose since I wasn’t really your lady fair, it won’t matter if I wake up with hay in my hair.”

  “Atta, girl.”Joel grabbed the reins and guided Biscuits and Gravy toward the stables.

  Once inside, they both froze. The stables,as the innkeeper had so referred to this building, was nothing more than a room the size of Joel’s parlor. None of the four walls had a single window, save the small one in the top of the door, but in the middle of the three remaining walls hung unlit lanterns. Immediately, Joel lit all three. The sun had almost sunk from the sky, leaving only a pink hue over the land. Soon everything would be black and they’d have a devil of a time trying to find their way around this cigar box then.

  “Where are we supposed to sleep?”

  Joel tried not to laugh at Jessie’s blunt question.“In the back of the wagon.”

  He led the horses inside and unhitched them. In the northeast corner was a little trough filled three-quarters of the way with what appeared to be fresh water. He led the horses to it and turned his attention to the mountainous haystack that took up almost as much room as the wagon.“Here, help me,”he said, scooping up a pitchfork full of hay and throwing it into the back of the wagon.

  “Wait! My clothes.”Jessie scrambled up into the back of the wagon and grabbed her travel bag.

  “Leave it there, it’ll make a nice pillow.”

  Jessie scowled and this time Joel did laugh.“We can’t lay on my clothes, they’ll be crushed.”

  “And they’re not already?”

  Both of their gazes fell to the black bag.

  “Perhaps,”she allowed slowly, biting her lip. She shook her head.“If we sleep on them, they’ll be wrinkled beyond repair and I cannot wear this—”she gestured to the current gown she was wearing— “all the way to Montana.”

  Joel shrugged.“Of course you can.”He threw more hay into the back of the wagon.“Now settle it in the corner behind where I sit and I’ll use it since you seem to think if we both sleep on it it’ll make your gowns unwearable,”he said with a wink.

  She didn’t even smile.

  He wasn’t sure how to interpret that. What he did know was there was more to her refusal than just that she didn’t want to wear the same dress. Joel tossed another heap of hay up into the back of the wagon; some of it flew up and landed on the bench and the footrest.“All right, if you’re worried about wrinkling all of your gowns, just pull one out that I can roll up and—”

  She gasped.“Is nothing sacred with you?”

  “No.”He jumped up into the bed of the wagon and used the points on his pitchfork to help distribute the hay evenly.“Things are just that. Things. What good is having them if you don’t use them?”

  A myriad of emotions played over Jessie’s face.

  “I’m sorry,”Joel said truthfully.“I was only teasing.”Mostly.“Move it to the bench. We don’t need a pillow.”

  “No, you’re right.”She sank down on some of the hay Joel had finished smoothing.“I’m acting spoiled.”

  Joel choked on a snort.“Since when did you start worrying about what others thought of you?”

  “Since today?”

  Joel ignored the guilt that niggled at him in the back of his mind.“Well, it might have been a few years since we mucked around the creek together, but if I remember right, one of your best traits was not giving a silk stocking what others thought about you.”

  “Yes, well, it’s different now.”

  Her solemn tone and resigned statement tore at his heart. He pressed his lips together and dropped the pitchfork beside the wagon.“It shouldn’t be. That was your best feature.”

  Her emerald eyes searched his face; what they were looking for Joel would never know. From where he stood in the middle of the bed of the wagon, he was able to reach two of the three lanterns. He turned them off th
en jumped down and went to attend to Biscuits and Gravy. Satisfied they were fed and would be all right for the evening, he went to the third lantern and turned it down low enough that he’d be able to see to get back into the wagon bed, but not too bright for them to be able to sleep.

  He pulled himself up into the wagon, noticing Jessie was still sitting in the same position she’d been in ten minutes ago when he’d left. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling. In the past five years she probably hadn’t slept on anything except a feather mattress and now faced having to lie down on straight hay? He almost released a bitter laugh. Almost. It wasn’t Jessie’s fault she’d been so spoiled, as she’d put it. But if she was planning to go live out the rest of her days in Montana, she’d better get used to it. She hadn’t minded sleeping on the ground when they’d camp out under the stars when they were younger, but that was before she’d become too lofty for her slippers.

  “You ready to hit the hay, my lady fair, with straw already in her hair?”he said, kneeling down beside her.

  Jessie smiled and settled her travel bag directly in the middle of the wagon.“Whenever you are.”

  Joel’s throat constricted.“We sharing it?”

  She nodded and inwardly he groaned.

  It took a few minutes for them to each find what was comfortable for them: both lying rigid as a board with as much space between them as was humanly possible with their heads both resting on Jessie’s travel bag.

  Joel closed his eyes and tried to set his mind on anything that wasn’t Jessie’s sweet-smelling hair or gentle breathing. He gritted his teeth. Perhaps if his mind insisted he think about her, he’d think about less alluring things. Like how much contempt she must hold him in for insisting they sleep in a stable. But she’s safe, his mind argued, settling that thought. He was right; she was safe. Now if only he could find a way to make himself forget about her earlier admission: he won’t like me.

  Was her fear founded because of him? They’d been the closest of friends one day, and the next it was all over. It had to be that way, though. Her father wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  Joel sighed and opened his eyes again letting them aimlessly wander around the cracks in the wooden stable ceiling where the moonlight shone through and his mind went back to that awful night five years ago…

  “Joel Cunningham, just the fellow I was wanting to see.”

  Unease settled over every fiber of Joel’s seventeen-year-old body. Why would Mr. Wilcox want to see him?“Yes, sir, Mr. Wilcox.”Joel made his way across the darkened room where Mr. Wilcox sat behind his large desk. Two chairs were placed opposite Mr. Wilcox; Joel reached for one—

  “Don’t sit!”Mr. Wilcox barked.“You’re filthy.”

  Joel flushed with shame and embarrassment.“I’m sorry, sir. I was working in Mr. Philips’field.”

  Mr. Wilcox sniffed the air.“I can tell.”He set down a stack of papers, then folded his hands into fists and slammed them down on the top of his desk.“Son, let’s get one thing clear. You are not welcome here.”

  Joel’s heart slammed in his chest. He already knew this, of course. Mr. Wilcox had never even tried to disguise that he didn’t like Joel to step foot on his soil.“I just came to return a book to Jessie.”

  “Jessica lent youa book?”

  The book in Joel’s hand suddenly felt as if it’d been turned into lead.“Yes, sir.”

  “Silly girl,”Mr. Wilcox snapped.“If she had an ounce of sense in her head, she’d be dangerous.”

  Rage bubbled up inside of Joel and he gripped that blasted book so hard he was certain the spine was going to break.“Jessie—”

  “Jessica,”Mr. Wilcox corrected venomously,“will be punished accordingly.”

  “Punished?”Joel burst out.

  “Yes. It’s the only way she will learn.”

  “Not to lend books?”Joel shouldn’t have asked, but it was too late, the words were already out.“I can reimburse you, sir.”

  Mr. Wilcox scoffed.“The book is of little consequence.”His lips thinned.“Her disobedience must stop.”

  Joel doubted Jessie could be disobedient if she wanted to.“I’m the one who asked—”

  “You’re just as much of a fool as she is.”Mr. Wilcox’s disdain was unmistakable.“Boy, my daughter is a fool and that is her cross to bear—”he frowned— “and mine, too, I suppose.”His face grew darker by the second.“But I won’t have you taking advantage of her.”

  “I did no such thing,”Joel said fiercely.

  Mr. Wilcox narrowed his eyes on Joel, dozens of white lines forming around his lips.“For as disgusting as I find your kind, I don’t believe you’ve forced yourself on her.”His upper lip curled in disgust.“If she chose—”He went silent, his face was dark as a thundercloud, and his dark eyes resembled chips of obsidian.“The fact is, you are not an equal for my daughter and whatever your strange relationship with her, it will end. Immediately.”

  “We’re only friends.”He’d hoped that might change one day, but it was becoming quite clear his hope was in vain.

  “Werefriends,”Mr. Wilcox said.“You are not anymore.”

  “Sir, may I—”

  “Leave the room? Yes. The door you entered also functions as an exit.”He flicked his hands in a shooing motion.

  “No.”

  “No?”Mr. Wilcox repeated, fire flashing in his eyes.

  “No, sir,”Joel offered. He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders.“I don’t see why I can’t—”

  “Of course you don’t,”Mr. Wilcox burst out.“You wouldn’t see what’s wrong with this—this—”he waved his open hand through the air.

  Joel swallowed the lump of unease in his throat, but didn’t leave.

  “You’re just as ignorant as your father,”Mr. Wilcox muttered.“Young man, I’ll explain this but once, then you will get your good-for-nothing carcass out of my sight, stay away from my daughter, and never step foot on my property ever again.”The older man pushed to his feet and placed his hands on either end of his wide desk as if he thought to intimidate Joel. It did not.“Jessica might have less sense than a piece of tree bark, but she’s the prettiest girl in this half of the state. And as the prettiest girl in this half of the state, she will have her pick of any wealthy gentleman I wish to see her wed. But, no man of honor or means is going to give her a second look with the likes of you slobbering at her heels.”

  “You’re willing to sell your daughter off to the highest bidder?”

  Mr. Wilcox remained expressionless.“That’s none of your concern. What is your concern is that if I ever see you talking to her again, those’ll be the last words you ever say.”

  “Are you threatening me, Mr. Wilcox?”

  “No. It’s a promise. Now, get out.”

  “What about Jessie?”

  “Jessica will be punished accordingly if she seeks you out.”

  All of his blood drained to Joel’s toes. Mr. Wilcox had never been shy about using his leather belt on his daughter for any misdeed, no matter how inconsequential. Joel wasn’t so worried about Mr. Wilcox’s threat against him, but he’d be damned if Jessie would be hurt because of him. She was only fourteen, too young for him to carry off and marry. Mr. Wilcox would see to it they both died for that. But if not talking to her would keep her safe, he’d do it. It would be hard, but he’d do it.

  “Joel?”

  Joel sat straight up.“Jessie? Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”She placed her cool fingers on his arm.“You were grunting and grinding your teeth. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

  “I was.”

  She rubbed his forearm in the familiar way she had when they were younger and she’d found him after he’d escaped his father’s fists following a drinking spell.“Would you like to talk about it?”

  Joel covered her hand with his and gave her a gentle squeeze.“Thank you, but no.”He rubbed his eyes with his fingers then blew out a deep breath.“You should get back to sleep.”


  “So should you.”

  “I’ll try,”he lied.

  Seemingly content with his answer, Jessie lay back down and folded her arms over her chest. She was beautiful even when she slept. He groaned and fell back against his now flattened pile of hay, his mind swirling with thoughts of Jessie. Some appropriate…some not.

  “Jessie?”he whispered a little while later. He prayed she’d be awake so he could have some sort of distraction from thinking about her.

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you really running away?”

  “I already told you. I’m going to Montana to be a mail-order bride.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s where he lives,”she said in a tone that she might use when correcting a three-year-old.

  Joel pursed his lips.“What was it about his ad that called to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Joel didn’t believe that for a minute and the fact that she didn’t want to tell him made him that much more interested.“Then why don’t you read me his ad and letters and I can help you decide?”

  “No.”

  “Please?”Joel nudged her with his elbow.“You keep telling me to put aside my pride. I just did.”

  “How is that you putting aside your pride?”she asked with a huff.“Seems to me that you’re wanting me to give up mine by reading you his correspondence.”

  Joel brought his hands to his chest.“I would never ask you to put aside your pride.”He sighed.“You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “By being your source of entertainment while you can’t sleep? I don’t think so.”

  “No.”Joel pulled his shirt out of his waistband to get more comfortable.“I’ve been thinking about posting an ad and I need to know what to write.”

  Peels of infectious laughter filled the air.“You don’t need to write an ad. Just go to Lancefield or Oakhurst on a Saturday night. There are plenty of unmarried young ladies there for you to woo.”