Second Chance Suitor
Page 1
Second Chance Suitor
Lucy Evanson
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2015 Lucy Evanson. All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Also Available
LoveBlessed
Chapter 1
August 2, 1860
Sanford, Maine
Before she was even fully awake, Maddie knew that something was different. There was no wind rattling the windowpane and no drip-drip-drip into the bucket; there was only the occasional bird call from the woods that surrounded the farm. The storms had lasted so long that it now seemed odd for there to be nothing but calm and quiet. I must be dreaming, she thought.
Maddie opened her eyes and saw the sky already growing light, though a few stars could still be seen lingering in the heavens. She had almost forgotten what a clear sky looked like. No rain, she thought. Thank God it finally stopped. She closed her eyes again and tried to force herself back to sleep, but she could tell that it wasn’t going to happen. Her nerves were too frayed to let her get any rest, even though she couldn’t recall a time when she’d been more exhausted.
At her side, Tess snorted a bit and Maddie turned over slowly, softly, so as not to wake her. Tess had a habit of laughing in her sleep lately, and as Maddie leaned close to look at her in the gloom, Tess smiled and snorted again.
Well, at least one of us has something to laugh about, Maddie thought as she lightly ran her fingers over her daughter’s plump cheek. It would have been nice to stay here in bed with her, but there was going to be a lot to do this morning. Maddie gingerly eased out of bed and tucked the comforter up close to Tess, then stepped into the hall and closed the door before heading to the kitchen.
A few coals were still warm, and she coaxed the fire back to life with a bit of dried grass and some scraps of paper. Once she’d set some water boiling for a cup of coffee, she sat down and stared out at the sky. Ordinarily she would have begun making breakfast, but this had not been an ordinary week. Tess would want her usual toast and egg when she got up, but the thought of eating anything herself made Maddie’s stomach turn. Not yet, anyway, she thought. Not until I’ve seen the fields.
She drank her coffee in little sips, blowing the steam off the surface and watching the occasional bird fly by outside as the sky gradually grew lighter. Soon the pale gray had given way to pink and orange, and her coffee was cool enough for a long drink.
So bitter, she thought, her nose wrinkling as she stared down at the cup. I’d pay anything for a proper cup of tea right about now. Except, of course, that we don’t have the money for that, which is why I’m drinking coffee in the first place. She sighed and choked down the rest of the cup, then glanced outside again. The sun had begun to show itself on the horizon, and it was more than light enough outside to see.
Time to go see how things fared. She threw a shawl around her shoulders, pulled on her old boots, and set her jaw. She had a feeling the coffee wasn’t going to be the only bitter thing she’d have to swallow today.
The main field was down around the bend, still out of sight. The small field, up closer to the house, had made it through a little better than expected, though the wind and rain had left things looking a bit rough around the edges, with a few stalks knocked down here and there.
Not bad, she thought, but this one barely counts. The main field is what matters. The small field scarcely produced enough for them and the animals. The main field—the field with the best sun and the best soil—was where they grew the cash crops, and they’d never needed a good harvest more than they needed one this year. She stepped up the pace a bit.
Her feet were already soaking; as she walked down the incline, she was kicking up a spray of water with every step. When she finally reached the granite boulder that marked the beginning of the main field, she felt herself skidding on the wet grass, and though she nearly recovered her balance, after a split-second her feet went out from under her and she ended up on her bottom. The fabric was soaked through immediately, and as she got to her feet she could feel her nightdress clinging to her.
Oh, this is just terrific. Goosebumps sprang up all over her arms as she pulled the clammy, wet fabric from her skin and wiped her hands on the front of her dress while she surveyed the main field. A stronger chill overcame her in a heartbeat, though it had nothing to do with her wet clothes. In fact, she barely noticed that now. She was instead transfixed by the sight of the field before her. Good God, no, no, no. The corn—their main crop, their lifeline, their sole hope for paying the bills and keeping the farm one more year—was standing in a foot of water. Perhaps more than that in some places. She felt a tightening in her chest, like somebody was squeezing her heart directly.
This can’t be, she thought. Please don’t let this be as bad as it looks. She started walking along the edge of the field, as if a closer inspection might reveal good news, but she knew that things were in fact precisely as bad as they looked. The main field had its strong points, but it was also a prisoner to the surrounding hills, which rose quickly on all sides and thus created a field that was shaped much like a roasting pan. When the weather cooperated, it produced a fair amount of corn; when the weather didn’t cooperate, it flooded. The weather had been particularly uncooperative this year.
So much rain. She marveled at how the weather had changed in only a few days. This year had been one of the driest she could remember, with week after week of horribly clear skies. The few clouds that she saw were light and fluffy, floating along as if ignorant of the cornfield dying beneath them, offering only a bit of shade now and again but refusing to give any other relief. Day after day she had watched the crop roast in the sun, and night after night she had prayed for rain.
It arrived three days ago, when the storms rolled in and stayed put. The field had turned from cracked and dry earth into a lagoon, and she could only shake her head at the sight of it. The Almanac had predicted an average amount of rain this summer, and mathematically that was probably true now. She just hadn’t expected a whole summer’s worth of rain to fall in 72 hours.
The crop never stood a chance. It was stunted and weakened before the storms arrived, and now it was being finished off by drowning. She stepped closer and took a corn leaf between her fingers. It should have been stiff and broad; instead, it was limp and crumpled. If it’s not dead already, it’s only a matter of time.
Maddie walked around the entire field, just to make sure that she hadn’t missed anything. She hadn’t. The corn was ruined. The raspberries were ruined. Her tomatoes were ruined, showing only straggly leaves and split fruit that would begin to rot in the sun later today. Everything was ruined.
The harvest is lost. And that means that the farm is lost, she realized as she started up the slope, back towards the house. In a terrible way, it was almost a relief. She’d been struggling with this pitiful, underperforming farm for three years now, cutting every corner she could think of, pinching every penny, trying to get by with less, less, less, while the farm seemed to
demand more, more, more. Now she no longer had to worry about any of that. She was going to lose the farm, so there was no reason to fight it anymore. A terrible relief.
She could already imagine how things would unfold over the next few months. The crop had failed, so she’d be unable to pay the creditors. It might take some time, but eventually they would come for the house and the land. She and Tess could be homeless by winter, which in Maine would mean serious business. And if I can’t take care of Tess properly, they might take her away from me.
The thought chilled her just as surely as the New England winter would. Losing the farm would be bad enough; it would be like letting down a whole line of ancestors. But losing her girl…well, that was too frightening a thought to consider this morning. Fortunately, she had been planning for a day like this. Now that it had arrived, Maddie felt oddly serene. Strange thing, she thought. It’s a lot easier to make a decision when you only have one option left.
She stopped at the boulder again and, for the last time in her life, looked out at the farmland. The property had been in her family for…well, for longer than she could even say. She had been born in this house and had grown up running around these hills. She knew every rock and tree, every root and weed from this field to the next, from the valley up over the hill and beyond. She also knew that it was time to move on. Generation after generation had tried to make a go of this land, fighting against the sun and the rain, the pests and the blight. What did they get out of it? Nothing but lives harder than they should have been. It’s time to give it up.
The sun was rising high now, although she didn’t need to see things on the ground any more clearly than she already had. The water shimmered in the field. It was almost pretty, but she couldn’t spare time to watch it any longer. Tess would be up soon, so she had to make breakfast, then they had to get ready to go. There was a lot to do today.
~
“Lady, lady.”
“That’s right, that’s a lady,” Maddie said absentmindedly. She had made the mistake of telling Tess that they were going to Portsmouth to see a lady, so now Tess was pointing out every woman they saw, just in case. “But we need to see a different lady.”
Maddie peered at the faded street sign on the corner of the building and then consulted her note, where she’d written the directions. “I think we’re almost there.” She lightly snapped the reins and old Pete gave a snort before moving along again.
Tess resumed her survey of their surroundings, pointing to everything she saw; she had been excited to see the city, with its paved streets and big buildings, so different from daily life up in Sanford, and her head swiveled back and forth as she tried to take it all in. Maddie barely noticed the city. She was too busy maneuvering their rickety, creaking wagon among the fancy runabouts and carriages, ignoring the stares and odd looks of the other drivers. On top of that, she wasn’t here for sightseeing. She had business to take care of.
“This is it,” she murmured, and steered the wagon down a side street, coming to rest just in front of a small office. There was a hanging sign reading Westward Hearts above the door, and another sign reading OPEN hanging inside the window. “Let’s go.” She helped Tess down from the seat and they entered the building.
“Miss Broder?”
The woman, alone in the office and sitting behind the desk, looked up. “Good afternoon,” she said. “Welcome to Westward Hearts.”
“Good afternoon. You might not remember me, but I was actually here before,” Maddie said. “About two months ago. I’m Maddie Harrison, from up in Sanford.”
Miss Broder stood up and came around the desk. “Oh, of course,” she said. Her smile was warm and open, as if she were greeting a friend instead of a customer. “Now I remember you, Miss Harrison. You know, when you didn’t come back, I thought that you’d either lost interest or found a man.”
“It was neither one, actually. No man and still interested.”
“Well, you couldn’t have come at a better time,” Miss Broder said. “My sister just sent a big batch of letters from our office in Nebraska.” She pointed to a thick stack of envelopes on her desk. “Why don’t you sit down and remind me about your circumstances?”
Maddie and Tess took a seat in the chairs in front of the desk. “Well, there’s not much to say, really. It’s only me and Tess at home, and I just think it’s time to get married,” Maddie said. “Past time, actually. I’m already twenty-one years old, so…I’m ready, I guess.”
Miss Broder nodded thoughtfully, and she glanced quickly at Tess before returning her gaze to Maddie. “The last time you were here, didn’t you say you had a farm?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“How have things been going? It’s been a difficult summer from what I understand.”
Maddie felt a bit of heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered the field of drowning corn. “It’s been a little harder than I’d have liked.”
“I would have imagined running a farm was too much for just one person.”
Maddie’s gaze fell to the floor for a moment. She felt a momentary flare of anger within, but she took a deep breath and tamped it down. She’s not accusing me of anything, she told herself. And regardless, she’s right, it is too much work. I pretty much figured that out three years ago—and maybe if I hadn’t been so stubborn then and I had asked for help, I wouldn’t be in this situation today. “It’s not a big farm,” she said. “But like I said, it’s been hard.”
“Who actually does the work out there?” Again, Miss Broder glanced at Tess, who was perched on the edge of the chair, swinging her feet.
“I hire a man to help with the planting and harvesting. The rest, all the day-to-day stuff, I do myself.”
Miss Broder’s eyes widened slightly. “You do all that while taking care of your girl too? Well, it certainly sounds like you’re not afraid of hard work, then.”
“No, I’m used to it now.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Life in the territories can be very tough. Too tough for a lot of women, in fact,” she said. “But there are plenty of men out there who are looking for wives. Farmers and ranchers, mainly, all looking for women. My sister says she can barely keep up, it’s been so busy.”
“That’s good.”
“I can’t complain. It’s just…well….”
“What is it?”
“Maddie, I don’t mean to offend in any way, and I’m going to do everything I can to find you a husband,” Miss Broder said. “But I also want you to understand how things work. I don’t want you to have any unpleasant surprises.”
“All right.”
“The thing is, I don’t know how many men are looking for widows, especially those with children.” She smiled at Tess, who leaned over toward Maddie and buried her face in the crook of her elbow.
Maddie was certain that her cheeks had gone quite pink now. “I’m not a widow,” she said. “I’ve never been married, in fact.”
Miss Broder raised her eyebrows. “Oh…my dear…having a child out of wedlock could make things—”
“Tess is my adopted daughter,” Maddie said. “She’s actually my niece, but I adopted her after her parents died. The doctor said they caught the cholera when they were down in Boston. That was about three years ago now.”
“How terrible,” she said. “The poor child.” Miss Broder shook her head slowly and her eyes narrowed, as if she couldn’t conceive of such a hard start to life. “Thank God she had you to care for her.”
Maddie reached over and stroked Tess’s back. “I think about it the other way,” she said. “I’m just thankful I have her; I don’t know what I’d do without her.” She let herself have a moment there, just watching her daughter, who was still hiding her face from Miss Broder. Then she gave Tess a soft pat on the back and sat up straight in her chair again. “Anyway, how does this all work, then?” she asked, pointing to the letters stacked on the desk.
Miss Broder smiled warmly again. “You’re anxious to get started,
aren’t you?”
Maddie nodded. “No reason to wait,” she said. Again the image of the flooded field popped into her head. No, there really isn’t anything holding us back now, she thought.
“In that case, we can get started immediately. Now these letters,” Miss Broder said, patting the stack in front of her, “just arrived today, so I haven’t had a chance to go through them yet.”
Maddie looked closer at the stack. “There must be forty or fifty letters there,” she said. “All of those are men looking for a wife?”
“Well, some of them are replies to other women, of course, but there are probably lots of new ones in here as well. For now, I’m going to look through my other files and get you started with some of the men who aren’t spoken for already.” Miss Broder stepped into the back room and Maddie could hear various cabinets being opened and closed. In a couple of minutes, she returned with an armful of envelopes, which she deposited on the low table in the corner of the room. “You might find it more comfortable to do your reading on the sofa.”
At the mention of the word, Tess made a beeline for the sofa and promptly curled up there, putting her head down.
Maddie laughed. “You’ll have to excuse her. It’s been a long day and she must be tired.”
“Think nothing of it,” Miss Broder said. “Now, you start reading, and just set aside the letters that seem interesting to you. I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?”
“I’d love it. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, my dear. And one more thing—this can be a frustrating exercise sometimes, when somebody is first exposed to it. It’s an unusual thing, trying to get to know somebody just from a letter.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“You can learn a lot, but you can miss a lot, too.”
“Yes, I understand.” Maddie took the top envelope and opened it slightly, withdrawing the letter inside. She could see the page covered in sloppy, hard-to-decipher printing, as if the author had never really learned to write. Oh well, she thought. They can’t all be winners. I just need to find a good provider, and everything will be fine.