Mail Order Bride: JUMBO Mail Order Bride 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  Mercy Bohn, Emil said out loud and repeated the name over and over again. He liked the image the name conjured of a pretty girl with an adventurous spirit. He read the letter again and saw that Joanna had said that she was a little quiet. That suited Emil just fine. He did like a girl whom one could converse with, after all, in these parts, good company was rare. However, he had no wish for a chatterbox, the kind of woman who could never keep quiet and talked on and on all day. Emil could hardly wait for morning to come so he could go into town, buy the train ticket and send it to New York.

  He took a little more time to re-read the contents of the letter and he then got up to prepare his dinner. In the pantry, Emil got a piece of dried beef and dipped in a pot of simmering water over the stove. He pushed more wood in to get the fire rekindled. He whistled as he worked, his earlier tiredness gone.

  There was so much to look forward to, Emil thought now. The years had been lonely with just himself and then later with farm hands, who liked to keep to themselves. He was a firm believer in love, and he had known deep inside his soul that the good Lord would make a way for his bride to join him. And the Lord had made the way.

  He had kept his faith, and his belief in God had remained unyielding. The Lord had been faithful to him, Emil thought now, as he knifed the piece of beef and deposited it on a plate. Next, he broke off a chunk of bread and placed it next to his beef.

  “Dear Lord in heaven, I thank you for this meal and for a shearing season that has gone well. As your word says, whatever we ask from you Lord, we will receive, if we keep your commandments and our acts and deeds please you. I also thank you for blessing me with a companion, a woman whom I believe you have picked out for me. I pray for a peaceful and loving home and a blessed union. In Jesus name, Amen.”

  Emil chewed on his food automatically, his soul awash with the goodness of the Lord. It had been a tough three years, when he first came out to California. Empty land stretched for miles and herds of buffalo roamed the prairie. Emil could now boast of several neighbors and though separated by miles; it felt good to know that there were people around him.

  The verse from the book of Romans chapter eight had encouraged him considerably, when his spirits plummeted or when his soul cried out from loneliness.

  “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

  The glory had begun to be revealed to Emil. Mercy Bohn, and the family they would have, would crown it all. He would enjoy taking evening walks with her and showing her the three thousand acre ranch. When the ranch was not busy, like now, they would carry packed lunch and have it out there in the grass. He saw Mercy nestled among the tall grass and yellow wild flowers, behind her a halo of light, her skin glowing and her teeth glistening.

  She would no longer be Mercy Bohn. Mercy Duval. Perfect, Emil thought sounding out what would be Mercy’s new name. He was glad that she loved the Lord, and he hoped that she enjoyed reading and discussing the scriptures. He imagined the debates between them and at that moment, he longed for Mercy with a passion that left him emptied out of emotions.

  That night, sleep did not come easy, with so much to look forward to. He turned several times, more aware than ever of the hugeness of the feather bed. When Emil did finally fall asleep, it was with a smile on his face and a light heart.”

  SIX

  Mercy had not stopped crying since they left the house. The tears seemed to fall of their own accord. The sweet smell of the children was still on her and so was Amelia’s soapy scent. Aunt Beatrice held her arm and they walked together to the station from where the buggy had deposited them a little way away.

  Her aunt did not try to get her to stop crying, perhaps understanding that Mercy could not help it. When they got to the train station, Mercy sat on the chair against the wall near the platform and waited for her aunt to confirm the train at the small office. She herself felt so sad that she thought it would consume her, and she would lose her senses.

  She looked up when she heard her aunt’s heavy steps approach her.

  “The train is that one, further ahead my girl,” Aunt Beatrice said, her voice lacking its usual cheer.

  “I could stay and –”Mercy sniffed.

  “No you couldn’t. We have already had that discussion Mercy and this is what we must do. Those are last moment nerves playing on your mind. Come, bring your hands, let’s pray.”

  Mercy obediently struck out her hands and barely listened as her aunt prayed in a soft voice. Her mind was busy considering all possibilities. What if she ran away? But where to? She had no other living relatives and even if they were there, they would be strangers just as this Emil Duval was.

  “It’s time Mercy. I shall pray for your safe arrival and that your intended gives you a good welcome. I know you’ll be happy in California and one day, we’ll come to visit you.”

  Aunt Beatrice voice cracked and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Go on, get into the train and watch your things.”

  She gave Mercy a gentle shove. In the train, Mercy sat on the side of the window and waved at her aunt, both of them crying openly. When the steam rose and the train begun to move, Mercy waved even harder until her aunt became a tiny dot. Only then, did she sit down.

  “First time travelling?” a middle-aged woman next to her asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” Mercy said, wiping her cheeks dry with her handkerchief.

  “You’ll be fine, don’t’ worry,” she said.

  Mercy murmured words of gratitude and turned her head towards the window. She watched the city go by and then slowly, buildings and houses became scarcer. Mercy was naturally wary of strangers and did not want to encourage the woman to converse with her. Besides, she was in no mood to make conversation. Her body was like a tightly wound rope. She thought back to her last conversation with Amelia. Her friend had painted such a pretty picture of what lay ahead that Mercy smiled a little.

  She had talked of land that stretched for miles and wooded areas where Mercy could go and pick wild berries. Mercy had never lived on a farm; she had been born and brought up in big bustling towns. She had to admit that the image was pleasing. No noises from the streets and green grass everywhere you looked.

  What she held to now however, was Amelia’s word that Emil Duval would give her time to adjust. Amelia considered herself worldly, and from information she had garnered listening to young women obtrusively, was that there was a grace period after marriage. A gentleman would not expect you to join him in the matrimonial bed right away.

  Besides that, Mercy also had the five days that the train would take to travel to California, to a town called Oakland. She allowed herself to picture Emil Duval. He had given a brief description of himself in the letter given to her by Joanna Hunter. He was of slim build and was quite tall, a little below six feet. She herself was of average height, at five feet five inches.

  He would be decked out in a blue suit, a color that Mercy now found odd for a man to choose. Perhaps if she concentrated on the man himself, rather than what he would expect of her in a few weeks, maybe months, and the terror in her heart would dissipate, Mercy told herself. Her aunt’s words of advice had been for Mercy to pray for guidance and favor.

  This she found difficult to do. Somewhere in her mind, she saw it as a punishment from God, and she had refrained from asking herself ‘why’ in the last couple of weeks. Why could it not have been Amelia going off to California to marry a stranger? Someone who was eager to get married.

  Mercy looked at the passing landscape with dull and sleepy eyes. She had never before in her life seen so much unused space. Worse, there were no homes she could discern. Just before midday, she nodded off, lulled by the sound of the engine emitting steam.

  ***

  The next days passed too fast for Mercy. She only left the train for brief moments to buy sandwiches, tea and water and to use the washrooms. The stations grew smaller the further they tr
avelled. Whereas in New York and the adjacent cities, the stations were large, now they were no more than a shack with a small inn run by one or two people.

  The reality of living in relied

  a wilderness frightened Mercy. She had no fear of hard work, as Joanna had said there would be, but she was frightened of wild animals. She had so many questions and no one to ask. She wished that she had spent time searching for information on the Wild West and what she could expect there.

  As it were, she had been too engrossed in her own misery to give much thought to this new place. She now wished that she had been better prepared.

  On the fifth day, at precisely dawn, excitement filled the carriage and the passengers murmured amongst themselves. The train was pulling up to the station at Oakland. Mercy watched as women combed their hairs and straightened their dresses. Her own cotton dress was creased and though she had given herself several wipe downs, she knew she stunk of sweat.

  Mercy did not care much. In fact, it would suit her perfectly if Emil Duval found her unattractive. The train came to a halt. Her feet shook badly and she had to take several deep breaths to steady herself. Her head felt too heavy for her neck. Mercy gulped some water. The passengers were already disembarking and everything seemed to move too fast.

  Her feet stayed rooted to the ground, her eyes focused unseeing at the front of the carriage.

  “Are you alright my dear?”

  Mercy swung her head to look at the speaker. It was the woman who had spoken to her when she entered the train. Mercy plastered a smiled on her face.

  “Yes I am, thank you,” she replied.

  She forced herself to her feet, took her trunk and followed the woman down the steps of the train. She kept her eyes downcast, dreading that moment when she would meet Emil Duval.

  SEVEN

  “Are you Mercy Bohn?” Emil said to a pretty, young woman who had just got off the train.

  He desperately hoped that it was she. If it weren’t, he would be greatly embarrassed, as he had been drawn to her when he first spied her. She had an oval face, creamy white skin and a tiny sharply pointed nose. Her hair was thick, long, and parted at the center and then held in a neat ponytail at the back of her head.

  At the top, she wore a black bonnet, which further emphasized her glowing skin. She looked up at him.

  “Yes I am she,” she said in a solemn voice, a sweetly feminine voice that suited her completely.

  “Welcome to Oakland, California. I’m your fiancé, Emil Duval,” he replied and then bowed in an exaggerated manner.

  She gave a little smile and Emil’s heart made a summersault. He thanked God internally for getting him such a beautiful bride. He took her small case from her hands, his fingers accidently brushing against hers. He fought the urge to close his eyes and savor the feeling of her skin. He held out his arm and she placed hers in his and swept her out of the station.

  He led her to a buggy hitched against two horses, tethered to a tree.

  “We shall ride to the small church where the preacher is waiting to marry us. Soon, we shall be husband and wife!”

  She gave a small glance at her dress.

  “It looks just fine, makes you look real fetching,” Emil assured her.

  She nodded and her interest in her dress faded. He expected her to ask many questions as they drove through the main street, up the hill towards the church. He did notice that she looked out the buggy but that was as far as her interest went. Emil did not blame her. The journey from out east was long and he thought she had held up pretty well.

  They got to the church, surrounded by neat green grass and he brought the buggy to a halt.

  “Do you want some time alone before we exchange vows?” Emil asked her.

  “No thank you, I’m fine.”

  She was a constant surprise, this beautiful girl who would soon be his wife. Very few women would agree to exchange vows after a five-hour journey without improving their appearance. To Emil however, Mercy was perfect. There was another couple in the church ahead of them, and he and Mercy stood outside waiting for their ceremony to get finished.

  Emil was content to just be next to her even without conversing. A minute later, the couple came out; their eyes wide open as though they had just realized what they had done by getting married. Emil nodded to the man, an acquaintance and then ushered Mercy into the church. The preacher glanced up briefly as they walked down the aisle.

  The preacher hurried through the ceremony, and he begun by reading from the scriptures. Emil would have preferred a less hurried ritual, something he and Mercy could treasure the rest of their lives. But he was so happy, he decided it mattered not. There was only one moment of tension in the ceremony, when it was Mercy’s turn to say I do.

  Her eyes darted across the church as though searching for something, until the preacher looked over his eyeglasses and stared at her. Finally, she had murmured ‘I do’ and Emil gave a big sigh of relief, releasing the muscles he had held tense. Emil thanked the preacher and led his bride out of the church.

  “The ranch is not too far away, about three hours from here. Are you alright to make the journey?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied.

  “Do you realize that we are now man and wife? The Lord has truly been good to us. I look forward to showing you our home,” Emil prattled on enthusiastically.

  She smiled in response and Emil swallowed a little disappointment. He would have liked a little enthusiasm, but then he reminded himself that she must be very exhausted.

  “You must feel very tired,” he said.

  “No I’m fine really; I slept a lot on the train.”

  That was the longest sentence she had spoken since they met. Emil helped her to the wagon and jumped to the driver’s seat. He drove and kept throwing glances at her. She watched the passing landscape impassively, her body held stiffly and unmoving. Emil mumbled a prayer under his breath.

  “Dear Father, thank you so much for Mercy, please let her look on me favorably. In Jesus name, Amen.”

  She did not fall asleep in the three hours that it took them to get the ranch. He drove through a well-tended road, off the main road and fell a surge of pride swell in his chest. Emil was proud of his home and he felt excited at showing Mercy everything in the ranch. He stopped at the front of the house, which he was especially proud of.

  The two-story house had a porch that wrapped round the house. There were two rocking chairs near the front entrance; the second chair added recently in anticipation of evenings spent together watching the sun go down.

  “Welcome home my dear,” Emil said, and held out his hand to help her down.

  She took everything in and did not offer a comment. He showed her into the house and pointed out the wooden stairs on the right and the living room to the left.

  “Would you like to take a wash first or to eat?” he asked, now at a loss at his silent wife.

  “We can eat,” she replied, after a small shrug.

  Emil was not much of a cook but he had managed a beef stew and boiled potatoes, which he now lit the stove and warmed. She sat down on the kitchen after rinsing her hands over the kitchen sink and he watched her look at the kitchen with interest. He heaped the food onto two plates and placed them on the table.

  “Shall we give thanks to our maker?”

  She closed her eyes obediently and Emil said a prayer.

  “Dear Father, please accept our gratitude for the safe arrival of Mercy. Thank you for our union, which we believe will be a happy one. Build a fortress around us and protect us always. We thank you again for your abundant blessings.”

  Emil attempted to make conversation and then gave up. Mercy gave him one-word answers and kept her eyes downcast. A part of him worried over the invisible distance she held herself, but he told himself not to be silly. He recalled that Joanna Hunter had mentioned that she was rather quiet.

  Perhaps she would open up once she had a good night’s sleep and got used to him. When s
he finished her food, she looked at him and gave him the most glorious smile. All his worried faded and he reveled in her beauty. She was all right, Emil thought and everything would turn out to be all right.

  He couldn’t wait for evening to come. His only wish was to sleep with her in his arms. He would not rush her for more than that, he just longed to hear her heartbeat next to his.

  EIGHT

  Mercy washed their supper dishes, taking longer than necessary with each item. She could feel Emil’s eyes on her back, like two swords piercing her. When she finished and dried her hands, she turned and faced him.

  “Can we retire; it’s been a long day and week, hasn’t it?” Emil asked in a gentle voice.

  The walls of the kitchen were closing in on her and Mercy felt as though there was not enough air in the room. She gripped one of the chairs for support. Emil had stood up and he held out a hand to her. Using all her might, Mercy pushed her heavy hand towards him and let it lay limp in his.

  She followed him out of the kitchen and to the stairs in the hallway. She was numb with fear. At that moment if she could have fled, she would have. He never let go of her hand as they went up the stairs, and she could feel him tugging her along. Earlier he had deposited her things in the furthest room with a huge bed.

  Mercy had taken a bath in the washroom and had a change of clothes.

  Now, she waited, her breath held, hoping with all her heart that he would sleep in one of the other bedrooms. He opened the door and let her in first. Then, he followed her in and shut the door. Mercy stifled a cry biting on her lip. She stood rooted to the spot.

  “Shall I give you a moment to change clothes?” he asked.