“Annabelle, I do not think we should be having this discussion in Mr. Port’s presence, maybe if the gentleman came back tomorrow.
“Tomorrow? When he is here now?” his wife replied, sounding put out.
“I think we have failed Josephine enough as it is. I—”
“I have failed no one,” Anabelle snapped back. “I’ve done all I can do for your daughter. She is a lost cause. She is going on 24 years of age,” she looked around her, her features colored with dissatisfaction, “She is of an average family status and income, without any specific life specialty, trade, or skillset—and, on top of all that, she has that red mop on her head. No man will want her for his wife, not like my own daughters, who were successfully wed by the age of 18.”
“Still, to send her out to a stranger—”
“She is by all measures already a woman—it is too late to go back now and school her in every area you have failed her,” Anabelle continued venomously.
During the entire exchange, Josephine had been eavesdropping outside the door. She’d been on her way back from caring for Patricia, and overheard their conversation from the hallway.
She shuddered at Anabelle’s words, both because they were so critical of her and because they were delivered so coldly to her father. Surely, there had to have been a nicer way to say what Anabelle had said. When was she going to stop craving that woman’s approval?
Saddened she leaned her head against the door. She could not imagine that some man somewhere wanted to take her away from this nightmare existence. But clearly someone did. At the thought of her father standing her way, anger rose inside her. When had he ever been there for her? Without preamble, she walked straight through the door, right past an older man, and stood starring at her father.
“Father, I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she said in a firm voice. “But no woman wants to turn into a spinster—and no woman wants to raise another woman’s family when she could be raising her own.” Her accusation was clear. She had all but raised his children; she deserved a life of her own, before it was too late.
“But darling, you know nothing about this man,” her father replied looking uncomfortable.
“It cannot be worse than being sold into servitude by your father at the age of fourteen.” At these last words, Brett looked away, the accusation in her eyes too harsh to bear.
Steeling herself, Josephine turned around, removed her cape and her apron and addressed the man in front to her.
“You employer, really wants to marry me?”
“Yes,” Mr. Porter stuttered.
“Has he got a house?”
“Yes, a homestead on a ranch in Montana.”
“And he is young?”
“Just turned 30,” he replied.
“That is young enough. It will do. I accept his proposal.”
In the silence that ensued, no protest was hear.
The next couple of weeks flew by in a haze. Before she knew it, Josephine found herself on her way. Mr. Port and her boarded the train in New York, heading for Cedarwood Creek, a small lumber town in Montana. The train would carry them as far as Butte, and then they were to take a stagecoach to their final destination. They had been travelling for a dozen days. Josephine was exhausted, but there would be no rest for her tonight. The train was nearing her stop, and she was overcome with nervousness and excitement.
So far, the trip had proved long but uneventful. Still with Butte only a few hours away, Josephine wanted to savor every last moment of her journey. She’d been awake since dawn the day before, and had taken in every sight she could, both in the train’s car and through its window. The fact that it was nighttime now was not going to stop her from continuing to observe, and absorb, everything around her. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience to take a trip like this, and she wanted to get everything she could from it.
In addition to the changing landscapes, towns, and livestock that Josephine had spied through the window, she encountered people on the train the likes of which she’d never met before. Right now, most of them were fast asleep, though, lulled to slumber by the darkness and the train’s steady movement.
Despite the general stillness in the train car, Josephine heard a rustling movement near her. She leaned over her chaperone, who sat slouched beside her, fast asleep and looked for the source of the commotion. A young child of five or six was riffling through his mother’s satchel.
He stopped and bowed his head in guilt when he saw Josephine looking at him. Still holding on to the piece of paper as tightly as she could, Josephine reached into her own bag with her other hand and pulled out a chunk of dry basket cheese wrapped in a cloth. She motioned for the young boy to come toward her and then handed him the food. When he saw what Josephine had given him, he smiled and scurried back to his seat. Quiet as a mouse he devoured his snack with fervor.
Josephine watched the child for a moment as he ate, and then turned her eyes toward the gray-haired man beside her. She was reminded, again, of why she was on this trip, and of the piece of paper in her hand. She unfolded it, brought it close to her face, and read it for the umpteenth time.
It was a telegram, dated three weeks earlier:
Dear Miss Billingham,
Mr. Port, the bearer of this message acts as my representative in absentia. Please believe his and my intention are honorable. He has sung your virtues in no uncertain terms and I am more than satisfied with his choice. By God’s graces, will you accept my marriage proposal?
Respectfully,
Samuel Douglas Kent
This was the letter that changed her life forever and promised her a better future, so she held it close. She was on her way – to a family of her own and a household of her own. Somewhere to belong. She fell asleep, clutching her telegram, like a child would clutch a comfort blanket.
FOUR
An Unexpected Journey
“Mr. Port,” Josephine whispered, shaking her still-sleeping chaperone. “Mr. Port, we’re almost there. Please wake up now!”
Mr. Port was clearly soundly asleep as Josephine tried to rouse him. Ever since signing the remote marriage arrangement, he had been suspiciously silent their entire journey. When asked about his employer, he just replied, he wasn’t employed by Sam Kent, but was only doing an errand for him. Josephine though it strange that the choosing of a bride could be delegated to another. It either showed how much he trusted Mr. Port’s judgment or that he did not care, who his new bride was. The later was clearly unflattering to her. But she decided to reserve judgment for later on.
Indeed, he had to pay a great deal for Josephine to make this journey. The chaperone came at a pretty penny, and so, too, did travel fare for two people. But, the expenses were necessary, in order to get Josephine to Cedarwood Creek. She’d already done her part when she responded affirmatively to Samuel’s telegram. All the paperwork was dealt with in New York. She left the city already a married woman. Now it was in God’s hands to get her to Cedarwood Creek safely, and to see if her prayers for a suitable spouse had been answered.
“Mr. Port!” Josephine said once more, nearly shouting.
“Huhh?!?!” the older man responded, startled awake by Josephine’s shaking.
“The train is slowing now,” Josephine said, with a smile beaming on her face. “We are in Montana.”
“Montana,” a small voice echoed. It was not Mr. Port who was speaking, but the young boy, across the aisle.
“We’re going to Montana, too,” he said.
‘Then I thank God for such good-spirited neighbors,” Josephine said, winking at the child. Neither Mr. Port nor the boy’s mother knew where that wink came from, but Josephine and the child did. The cloth wrapping from the cheese she’d given him peeked out of his pants pocket.
“Butte,” the train attendant shouted loudly, stretching one syllable out across many. “Butte, Montana.”
A number of other passengers on the train sprang to life and started clamoring to collect their few carry-on posse
ssions.
Mr. Port slicked his ruffled hair back with his palm and turned to Josephine. He wished he could go back to sleep and pretend they had not arrived at their destination yet. When he had gone to ask for Josephine’s hand in marriage on behalf of Sam Kent, he had been under the erroneous belief that she was a portly spinster. Even as she marched in like a whirlwind to declare her wish to her father and that horrible stepmother of hers, he had believed her plain. Why else would she still be unmarried? That said, based on the state of their abode, he was now sure it was because the Billinghams were too short on cash to provide her with a dowry.
When she took her bonnet off and turned around, his heart stopped. Then her cape and apron came off and he had been sure he was about to faint, then and there. This was no spinster. No, this was a very beautiful hellion. He could not have chosen more wrongly if he’d tried.
But as she stood there, looking so young and vulnerable, in a household that obviously did not value her, he could not withdraw his marriage proposal. Instead, he had wed Mr. Samuel Kent to Miss Josephine Billingham. He dreaded the gentleman’s reaction, when he found out he was married to a beauty. He was sure that Mr. Kent was very likely going to shoot him, that’s if he didn’t drown and quarter him first.
FIVE
An Unexpected Baby
Sam Kent, current owner of the Madison Creek Ranch, previous heavy drinker and womanizer was exhausted. Actually exhausted did not quite sufficiently describe the bone-weary tiredness he currently felt. Tiredness born, not from drinking, smoking or enjoying the charms of the girls in the saloon. Nope, this tiredness was due to one tiny person named Carson Kent.
While Carson Kent, was too young to have learnt how to crawl and much less speak – you could hear him shriek seven counties away. At least that was what Sam believed. That baby had the lungs of three grown men.
A headache from a drunken night out could be sooth by sweet memories of dancing girls. The kind of headaches little Carson gave, could only be sooth by peace and quiet somewhere far, far away. Luckily enough for Sam, someone was just about to walk in and save his hide.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing to that baby Samuel Kent?” a very feminine and completely annoyed voice asked him from behind. Before he even turned around, he was smiling.
Catherine Marie James McAdams was a sight for sore eyes. She had married the towns biggest log company owner, Casey McAdams, two years back. Catherine had journeyed as a barren mail order bride to marry Old Man McAdams and instead ended up with McAdams Junior. She was now heavy with her second child. Sam shook his head, as he smiled to himself. The Lord sure did work in mysterious ways. At the thought, he looked at the baby in his arms.
“Give him to me,” Catherine said sternly, reaching for the infant. With soothing sounds, she held the baby against her and rocked him until his cries turned into sniffles, and then into soft baby snoring.
Sam watched on in amazement. She had achieved in ten minutes what he hadn’t been able to do in two hours.
“Marry me?” The question popped out of his mouth spontaneously.
Catherine laughed, making her dark blond ringlets dance in the light. She would never take such a suggestion seriously. All of Cedarwood Creek knew no two couple doted on each other more than Mr. and Mrs. McAdams.
“Sorry Sam, I am already taken,” she whispered merrily in reply, still rocking the baby.
“Yes, all the good one usually are,” he answered, looking not one bit remorseful about his inappropriate proposal.
“So what are you going to do about this baby?” Catherine asked, gazing down at the little bundle, “Clearly, he needs a mother. He is so adorable I would gladly steal him from you, but he does have a living father,” she jested, looking pointedly at him. Sam did not bother to correct her. As far as the rest of the world knew, Carson Kent was his illegitimate son.
“Well, as it happens I’ve taken steps to remedy that,” he answered instead. Catherine looked up at him, curiosity coloring her features.
“Yep, I asked Mr. Port to procure me a mother up north for this little monster,” he continued.
“An arrange marriage?”
“Yes, Casey was kind enough to foot Mr. Ports travel expenses, and additional costs. Can’t tell you how grateful I am for that. I will pay him back, but can’t do that if I don’t get this ranch off the ground.” Sam was by no means a poor man, but all his fortune was tied up in the cattle and ranch he had bought a year ago.
“I could have just advertised in the papers, but that would have taken too long and besides, Mr. Port has precise instruction on what I am looking for,” he explained.
“And what would that be exactly?” Catherine asked, sounding mildly amused.
“Well ma’am, a woman who is good with children, particularly little babies. One that is happy to cook, clean and take care of the house, while I am out tending the ranch.” Catherine listened to this virtuous list, with her mouth ajar.
“And finally, someone who is plain.”
“Plain?” she echoed, looking completely confused.
“Yes. No peace comes from having a beautiful wife. Beside I do not want to have children – although I will keep this little monster. With a plain and homely wife that is less likely to happen.” Catherine closed her mouth shut. She did not know where to begin her reply. Finally, she settled for saying nothing. The Lord would find a way to show Sam Kent the light. She just hoped that was before he got attached to a hag.
“When is this paragon of virtue due to arrive?”
“In the next couple of days.”
“What?!” Catherine looked around at the dusty ranch house, the messy kitchen and dirty clothes strewn everywhere. You would not have known this house was expecting a visitor. But then again, with Sam trying to get the ranch up and running, and having to take care of the baby too, not much was getting done at home.
“No need to worry Mrs. McAdams. Mr. Port acted as my proxy in New York, so we are already legally wed. He is taking her straight here,” Sam continued, looking unconcerned.
Legally wed or not, Catherine doubted any woman would want to walk into this dirty house. She just might have to come over in the next couple of days and try to make this house presentable.
“But sending him to fetch my bride, I have ensure not to have any unexpected surprises.”
“From my experience, the best things can come out of unexpected surprises,” Catherine replied in a tentative voice.
Sam, knew she was referring to the fact that, when she arrived in Cedarwood Creek, it was only to find that her intended had died a week previous. Despite discovering that she was now a mail order bride without a groom; she had married the most eligible bachelor in the town and was as happy as could be.
He wasn’t expecting anything of the sort for himself though. He was convinced, his happy married life meant finding someone plain and motherly.
Only the old folks in town would remember, but the Kents used to be the laughingstock of the county. Old Man Kent sired more children than anyone could count on two hands. Only Sam and his brother Ashley had been born to the woman he was actually married to. To this day Sam did not know if the face of a stranger was actually a half-brother.
Ashley had been younger than him and more of the sensitive sort. He took the rumors and whispering badly. He had tried hard to be his own man, a different man, but ultimately he had gone down the same route as their father. Boozing, dancing and saloon girls.
Ashley had died nine months ago; in a bar fight the next county over. Despite acknowledging that this was likely the fate of all Kent men, his death had touched Sam more profoundly then he would have expected.
What he hadn’t expected was that his brother had knocked up one of the “painted ladies” - Kitty Gemain, during his benders.
Eight months after Ashley’s demise, she died in childbirth and he received a telegram to come and pick up his infant nephew. Before he knew what was going on he had found himself a father to a ne
wborn child.
Yes, he was eagerly anticipating the arrival of Josephine Billingham. Not for her charm, her beauty or any related wife skills; but for her skills in child rearing.
He was sure a woman like her would be overjoyed to be handed a baby of her own.
SIX
Arriving In Montana
It took some time for Josephine and the other Butte-bound passengers to exit the train and gather their belongings from the belly of the train, and, as they did, Josephine took in her surroundings. Butte was much different from New York, and she was shocked by what she saw.
She spied children unattended to, women wearing colored feathers in their hair, and men who were using questionable language. There were two stagecoaches there, as well as a few wagons—and some of them even had animal passengers in addition to humans. It all perplexed and intimidated her, yet, at the same time, was exciting. Getting used to this type of life would surely be a challenge, but Josephine was up for it… or so she thought.
“Ready yourself,” Mr. Port, instructed. “We will take the new stagecoach service from here, and the ride will be bumpy.
Eventually, Josephine and Mr. Port, through Mr. Port’s coordination, discovered which coach was theirs, and, along with eight others, boarded. The rest of the passengers to Cedarwood Creek were women and children—including the little boy Josephine knew from the train, and his mother. There was only one man slated for the same destination—she’d overheard him telling the drivers he was going to Cedarwood Creek to look for work. He was not allowed to ride with the rest of the passengers and, instead, had to squeeze in at the front of the coach, between its two drivers. Josephine knew it was best, and safest, that way, but she still felt bad for the three men having to be in such cramped quarters.
Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set Page 2
