The music brought a smile to her face. She half closed her eyes and relaxed into the sound. It was like having her father beside her again. She looked up at the window and remembered that day, five years ago, when Tim peered in to watch her sing.
Would he come ever again? Julia hadn’t seen him in such a long time. Did he hear all the horrible things her mother had said at the funeral? Maybe he thought Julia felt the same way... Julia opened her mouth to sing, but loud footsteps distracted her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Her mother rushed into the room.
Julia turned around, the music abruptly coming to a stop. Her mother pounded her hand on the piano making Julia shudder.
“Didn’t I tell you not to touch this? Didn’t I tell you to get ready for church?”
Julia gulped at her mother’s outburst. “I - I’m sorry, Mama. It’s just… I… I remembered Papa and how much he loved to play -”
Her mother bit her lip. She raised a clenched fist and pressed it against her forehead. She took a deep breath, then gripped Julia’s shoulders. It hurt, but Julia didn’t say anything.
“Julia. Your father is gone.” She looked like she wanted to say something more, her pale face reddening, but she swallowed whatever it was, and instead just sighed. “Get your coat. We need to be at the church in five minutes. Understand?”
Julia nodded. When her mother released her, she immediately ran to Bessie to get her coat. Julia used to love Christmas, but Bessie was leaving that night, she hadn’t seen Tim since the funeral, her mother was angry and she wasn’t allowed to play the piano. She held back the tears. Her father was gone, he’d been gone for months, but only at that moment it had truly hit her that things would never be the same again.
It was the worst Christmas of her life.
Chapter 6
December 1865
Julia wrapped the scarf tight around her neck and shoulders and placed a hand on her mother’s arm. The service had just ended and they made their way to the door. Julia stepped outside and immediately the cold air pinched at her cheeks. She looked up at the starry sky, the crystal clear night meant it was only going to get colder. She pulled closer to her Mama as they walked down the stairs, Julia’s mind already busy with the list of chores she still had waiting at home.
“Hi, Julia!”
She turned her head towards the familiar voice. Lina Vines approached them with a huge smile on her face. Her friend had grown a lot in the last summer - she was taller than Julia now and her long black hair curled down to her hips.
“Lina!” Julia hugged the girl.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bennet,” Lina said, turning to Julia’s mother. “My mother sends her regards.”
“Why, thank you. That’s very kind of her.” Julia’s mother replied. “Is she alright? I didn’t see her at the service tonight.”
“Oh, she has been out of town the last few days. Aunt Maria had been feeling poorly, and she lives alone, so my parents went to tend to her.” She paused for a moment. “But they are back tomorrow at dawn. In the meantime Mother asked me to invite you both to the Christmas luncheon tomorrow. We know you’ve been having a hard time this winter -”
“We’ve been fine, Lina,” Julia’s mother snapped. “In fact we’ve been very busy. Julia and I still have a lot to do tonight and tomorrow.”
“But there’ll be free food,” Lina said, glancing at Julia.
Julia would have loved a free meal. She was grateful for what they had, she didn’t mind the taste of the same old porridge they ate most days, but a proper dinner… And without having to stretch their small budget… She was old enough to see the truth behind her mother’s lies. Her mother was too proud. Too stubborn to admit they were no longer of the same social standing as her former friends.
Julia’s mother turned her nose up in the air. “Thank your mother for the thought, Lina, but we don’t need charity. We’ve got plenty of work waiting, so if you excuse us, we must be going home now.”
Lina bit her lip and Julia hung her head in disappointment. She wanted to say something, but she knew better than to argue with her mother.
“Come along, Julia!” Her mother stepped down a few steps.
Julia was about to follow, but she stopped, seeing the first signs of snow descending from the heavens. A few people rushed past her. Everyone had places to go, and things to do for Christmas Eve.
She turned to Lina and whispered hoping her mother wouldn’t hear.
“Lina, do you remember that boy who used to listen to the choir outside the church?”
Lina raised a brow. “Boy?”
“You know, the one who wouldn’t come inside? The one with the skullcap. We’d see him outside after practice a lot, and after the Christmas service?”
“Julia!”
She glanced over her shoulder. Her mother glared at her from the corner of the street.
“Coming!” She shouted back, but turned to Lina pleading with her eyes for a quick answer.
“Oh!” Lina giggled. “Yes, I think he had taken quite a shine to you, hadn’t he? I haven’t seen him around.”
“Not even at the luncheons?”
Lina shook her head. “I think he might have asked about you, but when you weren’t there he never came back.” She paused. “Now I remember. He got scolded for not coming to the service before the meal. Mrs. Vines went into a right tirade about proper behavior for young men and how he’d never find a wife with...”
“But you haven’t seen him after that?” Julia pressed on.
“No, but you said he was from the orphanage. Maybe he got adopted?”
“Julia!”
She turned her head towards her mother who was clearly angry now. She looked like she itched to drag Julia down the steps. “Thanks, Lina.”
Her friend nodded and Julia ran down.
“Who do they think we are? Beggars?” her mother muttered to herself. “We don’t need that luncheon. We can feed ourselves just fine.”
Julia kept quiet. There was no point reminding her mother that just the night before she had lamented how they would stretch their food to last a week. Her mother had some skills as a seamstress, but she didn’t get many customers. Without her father to support them their status, and finances, quickly deteriorated.
She looked side-to-side as her mother stomped to her right. Julia still hoped to see Tim. In some way it hurt her that the boy she had grown so fond of disappeared from her life just like that. But all she saw were the rosy cheeked faces of people rushing back to their warm homes and Christmas meals.
But the only thing waiting home for Julia was a cold and empty house.
Chapter 7
December 1867
Julia let her voice flow through the large hall of the church. She half-closed her eyes enjoying the bright, warm glow of the lights. She enjoyed the choir even more since it stood for all she missed at home. It had been the one pleasure her mother allowed her. Otherwise she was on a strict schedule of school and chores. At fifteen, her mother said way too often for Julia’s liking, she needed to start thinking about her marriage prospects.
But Julia did not go to church to find a husband. She even stopped looking for the orphan boy outside the church walls. No. She sang to her heart’s content, raising and lowering her voice, letting the music fill her soul. She did it for the memory of her father and to bring joy to the congregation listening from the pews.
Thanks to her voice she had been given a solo again. Her mother had, at first, resisted the idea of Julia having to stay longer during choir practice because she still had chores to do. But when the pastor told Mrs. Bennet that rich sponsors and wealthy families from other parts of town would be around to celebrate the Christmas service, she changed her mind.
Julia’s mother had insisted that they dress in their best outfits. When they had arrived, everyone said Julia looked like an angel, her blond hair tied with a ribbon, her light blue dress matching her eyes.
When she finished her
solo, everyone looked enchanted. But what Julia didn’t expect was a thin face staring back at her from the front row. He was no longer a boy, but he still wore a threadbare jacket and in his hands she spotted a tattered brown skullcap.
The smile slipped from her face as he grinned and winked at her.
The choir performance ended, and soon, the service was over too.
“That was wonderful, dear,” her mother whispered, caressing her hair.
Julia smiled. “Thank you, Mama.”
“Hannah! So good to see you again!” A woman with silver hair and jewels all over her ears, neck, and hands, greeted Julia’s mother in an embrace.
Knowing that they would be chatting for a long time, Julia slipped away, searching for that familiar face.
But maybe she was wrong… He wasn’t a believer. Why would he come to the service. Maybe she had just imagined it, and it was someone else with a similar skullcap.
Then, there was a tap on her shoulder, and Julia spun around. She gasped.
“Hi,” he said with the usual mischievous smile.
“Hi,” she replied.
He wore the same kind of outfit as years ago, but the jacket was longer and fit his now wide-shouldered frame. She looked up into his eyes partially covered by feather brown hair. He was - he was taller than her!
Tim grinned and scrunched his hat with both his hands. “Merry Christmas, Julia.”
A blush heated her face. “Wh-where’ve you been? I - I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“I’ve been busy,” he said.
“Why are you here now then?” Was he really here?
“I’ve been baptized.” He glanced around the church. “I’m a Christian now.”
Julia’s heart fluttered inside her chest. She was both surprised and thrilled. She knew he wasn’t religious, but not to be baptized…
“Really?” she finally uttered.
“Yes. I realized I was wrong… I realized the Lord had sent an angel to bring me back to Him… I was just too blind to see it earlier.”
If her blush had reddened further, her glow would have illuminated the whole church.
Tim squeezed his hat nervously between his hands. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m gonna marry you.”
“What?” Julia blinked.
“Uhm…” Tim gulped, and opened his mouth, when a voice cut in.
“Julia, come over here a minute!” Julia glanced over her shoulder. Her mother was waving her over to a family. “Come meet Mr. and Mrs. Starling, and their son, Heath. He’s a fine young man!”
Julia nodded. “I’ll be right there, Mama!”
She turned back to Tim.
“Julia Bennet, I will marry you,” he blurted out. “One day, I’m gonna ask you to marry me.”
Disjointed words and thoughts flowed through Julia’s mind. She smiled at him and whispered still not quite believing she heard it right. “Really?”
Tim nodded, then he kissed her cheek. “That’s a promise.”
Before Julia could recover her composure Tim had turned around and fled. By the time she could move again, her mother was already visibly irritated with her for keeping the Starlings waiting. Even though Julia knew her mother would be having stern words with her back at the house, she didn’t feel afraid. On the contrary, she felt elated, like she was floating above the clouds. An angel indeed.
The End
A Mail Order Bride for the Undertaker
Edgeport, Missouri, November 1870
“Miss Mercy, Elliot took my paper!”
It took all her willpower not to sigh at the little freckled red-head boy grinning at her from his desk near the door. Mrs. Teresa Grayson, Mercy’s superior, was known for her powerful glares, but Mercy was not a strict sixty-year-old matron. Far from it. She was just an eighteen-year-old orphan trying to keep her home from being closed down. She knew substituting for Mrs. Grayson would be a challenge, but at least this was something Mercy was good at.
“Elliot, please give Ruth back her paper.”
“But I don’t have it.”
Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly. It was a good thing the Scriptures kept her sane. Mercy smiled at Elliot and crouched down in front of him.
“Ruth really needs her paper back so she can do her homework.” Mercy opened her palm. “And it’s not good to take things from someone without their permission, remember?”
Elliot’s face crumpled, but he didn’t cry. Thank God for small blessings. He handed back Ruth’s paper. “I was just playin’.”
Mercy ruffled his hair. “We can play other games. Games where everyone’s happy.”
Elliot pouted and stared down at his feet. “Are you mad, Miss?”
“Of course not.” She kissed his forehead and handed the paper back to Ruth.
“All right, everyone.” Mercy clapped her hands. “That’s the end of today’s lesson. God be with you.”
The children rushed out of the room, but Mercy could still hear the stampede rolling through the hallway. Distracted by the noise she almost missed the two curly-haired girls, one blond and one brunette that stayed behind. They were sisters, if Mercy remembered correctly.
“Yes, Carla, Caroline?”
They looked up at Mercy and smiled at her. Carla produced a small red apple from behind her back. Caroline giggled and hid behind her sister.
“Is this for me, girls?” Mercy leaned down to their level.
They nodded. Oh, bless their little hearts. But Mercy knew she couldn’t take it. Food was scarce at the orphanage. She wondered how they managed to squirrel the apple away in the first place.
Mercy stroked their blonde heads. “Why don’t you keep it for later, hmm? I’m not really hungry right now.”
They looked at each other, their mouths in a frown. They hardly spoke to anyone, except on days where they asked for their parents. The mixed emotions on their little faces forced Mercy to scramble for a better excuse.
“Excuse me, Sister?”
A young woman with blonde curls piled atop her head held together by a red scarf appeared out of nowhere. Her brown petticoat swept street dust into the room.
Mercy turned around, and smiled. “Oh, I’m not a nun.” Well, not yet anyway. She had been considering that option despite being raised a protestant. All because of the nuns next door, that helped run the orphanage with the pastor and his wife.
“Miss?” Carla glanced at the stranger and back to her teacher.
Mercy looked down at the girls and patted Carla on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and find your friends? I think I can hear Daisy and Lyle playing tag from here.”
The sisters laughed and raced outside.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I was told to look for Mercy Elkwood?”
“That’s me.” Mercy tucked a stray black curl behind her ear and approached the woman. “Please, take a seat.”
“No, it’s all right, I won’t stay long.” The woman’s blue eyes roved around the room before settling on Mercy’s face. “I was told you write letters for ads?”
“Ads?”
The woman blushed and added in a quieter tone, “You know … the ones from Matrimonial News.”
“Oh. You’re Elizabeth Springfield, if I remember right.”
The woman reddened even more, as she must have realized she forgot to introduce herself, and pressed the front of her dull maroon dress. Old, but clean. “Yes. You were highly recommended by the Frontier Hearts Agency.”
Mercy nodded. “I write the letters.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder and said, “Unfortunately, I have some more classes today. Could we meet tomorrow?” “Of course.” Elizabeth smiled. “Say, high noon at the bake shop?”
Mercy nodded as Elizabeth handed her an envelope.
“Thank you,” The woman whispered and quickly left.
Mercy folded and tucked t
he envelope inside her skirt pocket, just as Mrs. Grayson walked into the room. Mercy immediately tensed. The pastor and his wife might have raised her, given her home and now a place to work, but that didn’t mean she got special treatment. And while the mild-mannered pastor spoiled all the kids, his hot headed wife was known for her discipline and temper.
Teresa raised a thin eyebrow at Mercy. “Who was that?”
“Mrs. Grayson?” Mercy tried to avoid the topic.
The older woman crossed her arms and frowned at Mercy. “I saw a young woman here a minute ago. What did she want?”
But before Mercy could answer, Mrs. Grayson had thrown her head to the ceiling and said, “Lord, have mercy! It was one of those mail order brides, wasn’t it? And what did she want, for Father Hector to give his blessing?” She shook her head. “He is far too kind.”
Mercy stood, unmoving, beside her table, content with letting the older woman answer her own questions. Mail order brides weren’t as scandalous as they were three decades ago, but some still weren’t sold on the idea. Like Mrs. Grayson. Fortunately, her husband, the pastor, was more open-minded.
The woman shook her head and turned around.
“Oh, Mrs. Grayson!” Mercy went up to the nun and handed her some coins. “I have another small donation to the orphanage, by the way.”
The pastor’s wife looked at the money. Her brows furrowed, but she took it anyway with a hurried “God bless.” She contemplated Mercy, from her well-kept dark curls to her faded boots. After a brief pause she relaxed and seemingly remembered something. “One of those Catholic Sisters who donate and volunteer for us, what was her name… Ah, Sister Bernadette, said you plan on becoming a nun?”
Mercy smiled, cheeks tinted pink by the woman’s scrutiny.
“Yes, I want to work at the orphanage without being a burden to you and the pastor. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. I don’t - well, there aren’t really any suitors, there aren’t many paid jobs, and I’m already eighteen years of age…”
The Christmas Angel: Prequel (Love for Christmas 1) Page 3
