by Kit Morgan
Harriet glanced over her shoulder to make sure the others were still engaged with their cookies and coffee in the parlor. “I tried everything you suggested, but I don't see how it's helping.”
Eunice tapped her foot as she thought. “Well, try a little harder. I won’t see my daughter married off to that …” She lowered her voice. “… Bernard. He’s far beneath her.”
Harriet took a step back. “I don't think this is going to work, Eunice. For one, my boy’s mail-order bride is a lot more resilient than I first thought. She doesn’t seem to mind the work I've been piling on to her, and …”
“And what?” Eunice snapped.
“And … well, she's been nothing but kind to my boy. And to me, come to that.”
“We had an agreement, Harriet! I expect you to keep your end!”
“Even if I managed to get rid of the girl, and get their marriage annulled, what makes you think Jess is going to want to marry Bernice?”
“He'll have to! She’ll be the only girl in town!”
“Unless that matchmaker steps in again …”
“Whoever it is wouldn’t dare.”
“How would you know? Unless…”
“I am not the mad matchmaker!”
“Well, everyone’s suspect, you know.”
“Speaking of which,” Eunice said as she narrowed her eyes. “You didn't send away for that mail-order bride for Jess yourself, did you?”
“Me? Of course not! Why would I do such a thing?”
“One never knows.” She glanced past her to the parlor across the hall. “We'd better get back to the others. Just make sure you get rid of that girl. Lord knows I've done my best to get rid of Bernard. Convincing his folks to have him move with them to San Francisco was no small task.”
Harriet gulped. “I imagine not. Are they really leaving in June?”
“Yes. And seeing as it's April, and you have yet to prepare, I strongly suggest you get rid of that daughter-in-law of yours before the end of the month. Do you think you can handle that?”
“I suppose I'll … try my best,” Harriet said softly, her eyes downcast.
“Try your best?” Eunice echoed with a sneer. “You’d better do more than just try, Harriet.” With that she pushed past her and returned to the parlor.
Harriet closed her eyes a moment. Why had she let herself be talked into this? But at the time, neither the Templetons nor the Caulders expected to have a mail-order bride show up for Jess in the middle of their own plans. Now that circumstances had changed, though … shouldn’t the plans change as well?
But it was clear Eunice didn’t see it that way.
With a heavy sigh, Harriet went back to the parlor.
* * *
“Bernice here seems to think it's Mrs. Vander, Mrs. Tindle and Mrs. Smythe,” Professor Hamilton told Sarah. Sure enough, when she and the others had gone to the bookshop, they found Professor Hamilton and Cecil giving Bernice her afternoon lesson. Everyone stood around the bookshop’s front counter drinking tea while Betsy sat in a nearby chair and knitted.
“I'm telling you, I don't think its Mrs. Vander,” Betsy commented. “She got too big a mouth to keep a secret like this for long.”
Sarah's own mouth dropped open at the woman’s candor regarding her employer, but no one else seemed to bat an eye. Perhaps they were all used to it. “What about the other two?”
“Maude Smythe and Martha Tindle operate a caper without Mercy at the helm?” Betsy laughed. “I don't think so.”
“What about you, Mr. Winters?” Jess asked. “Who tops your list of suspects?”
“I'm not at liberty to say. I might incriminate myself.”
Professor Hamilton laughed boisterously. “That means he hasn't got a clue.”
Bernice, quiet all this time, finally spoke. “Why doesn't anyone go down to the post office where they sell stage tickets?”
“Because that's not how it works,” Jess told her. “When a bride is ordered, the groom sends money to the bridal agency to purchase the tickets. Isn't that right, Mr. Winters?”
“Yes, that's how it worked for Ammy when our mystery matchmaker ordered a bride for Garrett. So how would one know?”
Bernice’s face screwed up in thought. “What about sending the money and answering the advertisement in the first place? Wouldn't Mr. Myers down at the post office have seen where a letter was going to?”
Everyone looked at each other. Professor Hamilton slapped his forehead. “Bernice, you're a genius!”
“Well for crying out loud,” Cecil said as he threw up one hand in surprise. ‘Why did none of us think of that before?”
“Because you’re all a bunch of sap heads,” Mrs. Brock huffed. She started at her own remark and took in their flat expressions. “Er … that means me as well. I didn't think of it either.”
“Who is Mr. Myers?” Sarah asked.
“Our local postmaster, or what passes for one,” the Professor informed her. “Older gentleman, quiet, very nice chap – he lives in a small cabin just outside of town. One of us should speak to him tomorrow. It's getting too late to talk with him today.”
“Sarah and I will do it,” Jess volunteered.
Betsy wrapped up her knitting and stood. “I think you're all crazy. You're going to be chasing after this mystery matchmaker for months and come up with nothing.”
“My dear wife, why ever do you say that?” Cecil asked.
“Because you're all having too much fun with this. One or more of ya are gonna wanna prolong this wild goose chase.”
The Professor actually giggled. “It is rather entertaining, isn't it?”
“I don't think so,” Bernice said, eyes downcast.
Betsy gave her a hug. “Oh, I'm sorry Bernard is leaving. I thought for sure he’d stay behind and work the blacksmith shop.”
“I suppose this means we'll have to hire another one,” the Professor stated. “Maybe we can get one to come down from Salem.”
Bernice sniffed back a tear. “I like the one we have …” She started to cry.
Sarah put a hand on the girl’s shoulder in reaction. She was obviously quite smitten with this Bernard fellow. “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find another young man.”
Bernice turned her teary face toward Sarah. “In this town? Are you kidding? Bernard and Jess were the last ones.”
Jess stiffened. “We were, weren’t we?” He looked at Sarah, one eyebrow raised in question.
“What's the matter?”
“Not sure yet.” He gave his attention back to Bernice. “Maybe the new blacksmith will be the same age as Bernard,” he said, hoping to cheer her up.
Bernice let out a wail and buried her face in Betsy’s shoulder again.
Betsy glared at him. Jess could only shrug.
“Maybe the mystery matchmaker will send away for a mail-order groom…” Cecil offered.
Bernice's head shot up. “Do they have such a thing?” she asked desperately.
“Not that I know of,” he said. “But maybe they should.”
Bernice wiped her tears away. “Oh, what does it matter? I might as well face it – I'm going to be an old maid!”
“Now, now, we’ll have none of that,” the Professor consoled. “You’re young, pretty and being well-educated in the fine art of being a lady by Mr. Winters and myself. Why, any young man worth his salt would be proud to have you as his wife.”
She stared at him. “You keep saying that, but it doesn’t happen.”
“That's because there's no one around here for it to happen with,” said Betsy with a smirk. “Child, if you wanna get married, you're just gonna have to go where the men are.”
Bernice stared at her. “Where's that?”
Betsy shrugged. “Heck if I know, but it sure ain’t around here. I just happened to get lucky and a man came to me. I guess it depends on how long you want to wait for one.”
“Enough of this,” the Professor cut in. “Poor Bernice has been through enough. We'll figure it
out later once her lessons are complete. In the meantime, Jess and Sarah, if you have the chance, go speak to Mr. Myers tomorrow.
Jess nodded. “We’ll make sure we do.”
“Good. Cecil and I will think of anything else that might help.” He turned to Mrs. Brock. “You and your friends continue to keep an eye out. I think the money issue you three thought up is a great clue.”
Cecil nodded. “Which means there are suspects … in this very room.”
“Yes!” Professor Hamilton agreed as he pointed to everyone in turn. “Just think! It could be any of us!”
Sarah raised her hand. “Except me.”
Everyone laughed. “Except, of course, Sarah here,” the Professor concurred. “You don't mind if I call you Sarah, do you?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Not at all.”
“Well then,” he said, rubbing his hands together in glee. “As soon as any of you find something out, be sure to tell the others!”
Betsy let go of Bernice and shook her head. “I knew those three troublemakers would start something, getting that mail-order bride for Pastor Luke last summer!”
“You mean Mercy, Martha and Maude?” Cecil confirmed with a smile. “Just think of how dull it would be around here if they hadn't?”
“True,” Betsy said with a nod. “But at this point, folks are sure acting crazy. I just hope no one gets hurt.”
* * *
Jess held Sarah's hand as they walked home – in all the speculation about the mad matchmaker, Mahulda Brock had forgotten her promise to give them a ride. But they didn’t mind – it was finally a chance to be together, alone.
He stole little glances at her and several times caught her smiling as she blushed. He hadn't even kissed her yet, and wondered if now would be a good time. After all, this was the first real privacy they’d had. “Seems warmer today, don't you think?” he asked to get her talking.
“Yes, much warmer,” she said as she looked at the blue sky. “Do you have long winters here?”
“Every winter is different. We had quite a bit of snow around Christmas and in January. Not much the year before though.”
“It hasn't really rained since I've been here. Your father says it rains a lot.”
He stopped, turned and gazed into her eyes. “It can.” He glanced up at the sky. “I'm glad it's not raining today. If it was, we wouldn’t be out walking like this.”
She gave him another shy smile. “It is rather nice not having your folks around, isn't it?”
He chuckled. “I wasn't going to say it, but that was my thought exactly. I'm sorry about my mother. She … hasn't been treating you badly when I'm not looking, has she?”
“She's been demanding, but then I don't know her. And as you say, you haven't been in the same room with us to tell me any different.”
“Ma can be pretty demanding when she wants to, but she's not mean about it.” He studied her. “Sarah, you'd tell me if she's mistreated you?”
“I'll be honest, at first I think she tried. Now she just gives me a list of chores to do and I do them. She hasn't spoken to me much the last few days, maybe because she's been too caught up in all this mystery-solving.”
He chuckled again. “Yeah, whenever she came up to my room she’d bring it up. Like everyone else, I think she likes the excitement.”
“I would think she’d like it most of all, since she's the one that started it and got everybody so riled up.”
He looked at her, a wide grin on his face. “Great Scott, you're right – she did start this! I'd forgotten.”
“Kind of hard to do, isn't it?”
He looked into her eyes. “Not when I have the prettiest wife in the world.”
She smiled and looked away.”
He reached up, tucked a finger under her chin and pulled her around to look at him. “You are, you know. You’re a beautiful woman, and I'm lucky to have you as my wife.”
She swallowed hard. “And I'm lucky to have you as my husband. I'm glad I'm here.”
He closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her. “So am I.” The kiss he delivered was gentle and warm, and Sarah thought she'd melt right on the spot. He cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her more deeply. A soft moan escaped her and, feeling bold, she started to return it.
Jess let out a moan in response and drew back from her, forcing their lips to part. “I'd better get you home before you take my strength away.”
A shiver coursed through her. “Isn't that, ‘take your breath away’?”
“Not in this case, darling. I'm still a weak man, but not so weak as I won't have thoughts of taking you to the barn before I'd take you back to the house.”
She raised her eyebrows at that. “Why, Mr. Templeton, you surprise me!”
“No, but I hope to later.”
She smiled as he hugged her. “That was nice,” she whispered into his ear. “I've never been kissed before.”
He drew back to look at her. “That was your first?”
“Wasn't it yours?”
“I'm afraid not.”
Her face fell. “Oh.”
“It's not what you think. I'm… I'm married now so maybe later, we’ll get to know each other a lot better … but I've never known anyone … that is …”
“You don't need to say anything more; I understand. It's nice to know we’re the same, other than the kissing part.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm no Casanova. I've only ever been kissed three times before this.”
“Been kissed? What about you kissing someone else?”
“I thought it was all same thing,” he said with a sly smile.
She gave him a playful swat on the chest. “So you've only kissed three times?”
Jess nodded and then to her surprise, blushed.
“It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“It's not something I advertise.”
Sarah gave him a wide grin. “How old were you when you had your first kiss?”
Now he really blushed. “Twelve.”
She giggled. “Anyone I know?” she teased.
He screwed up his face. “Bernice Caulder.”
“Bernice?! Oh my goodness. Was it her first kiss too?”
“No, I think she kissed Julian before she kissed me. And maybe Garrett.”
Sarah started to giggle so hard she had to cover her mouth with one hand. “That poor girl! I do hope she finds a good man to marry one day.”
“We all do. I thought she and Bernard …”
“Yes, but how can that happen if he moves to San Francisco with his folks?”
“Poor Bernice. Funny thing, though …”
“What's that?”
“Well … last I’d heard, Bernard was set on staying here and taking over his father's blacksmith shop. What made him change his mind?”
“Maybe he wants to be someplace where there are more women to choose from?” she suggested.
“Perhaps you're right. His only other option would be to send away for a mail-order bride.”
“If the town's mad matchmaker doesn't do it first, you mean?”
Jess’s eyes widened. “Or … unless the matchmaker knew Bernard was leaving!” He looked at her. “Maybe it's one of the Rudshaws!”
She smiled and shook her head. “At this point, I don't care who it is. I'm just glad they brought us together.”
He pulled her close again and lowered his face to hers. “So am I, dear wife, so am I.”
* * *
When they got home, Mrs. Templeton suggested Jess turn in. Sundown was still an hour away, but she insisted. He was tired, so Sarah agreed, suggesting he should read a bit to help him relax. They'd spent a fair amount of time on the road kissing, and though they were both loath to stop, they could feel the temperature drop rapidly as the day waned. Sarah didn’t want Jess to catch a chill.
“I suppose a book and then bed will work,” he told Sarah as he headed for the staircase. Then he whispered, “
when you come up, come to our room.” He stole a quick kiss then went upstairs.
Sarah's entire body warmed from the contact and she closed her eyes in contentment …
“You!” Mrs. Templeton snapped.
Sarah's eyes sprang open. Had she seen the kiss? “Yes?”
“Come into the kitchen – I have another list for you.”
“All right,” she said and followed her.
Mrs. Templeton went straight to the worktable, snatched up a piece of paper and handed it to her. “I want this done by the time you go to bed.”
Sarah stared at her a moment and noticed the woman's tight-lipped expression. What was wrong with her? If she didn't know any better, she’d say her mother-in-law was fighting hard to keep herself in check. She would have to ask Jess about it – he’d told her earlier his mother wasn't the mean sort, but right now the look she was giving wasn't pleasant.
Sarah looked at the list and began to read. “Mrs. Templeton! I couldn't possibly get all this done before bedtime!”
“I won’t have any excuses from you – get it done! You might as well get used to it. Once Jess is up and around he’ll be much more demanding than I am. I'm only trying to help you out by getting you ready for it.”
“Ready?”
“He's a taskmaster, he is! You don't know him the way we do. He's been too sick, so he hasn't …”
“Not another word,” Sarah said as she held up one hand in front of Mrs. Templeton's face. “Jess has been nothing but kind and considerate since he married me. In fact, the better he feels, the better he treats me.”
Mrs. Templeton’s eyes darted around the kitchen. “Don't let him fool you. That's all I'm saying.” She stormed from the room.
Sarah sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Please, Lord, give me the patience I need not to strangle that woman.” She looked at the empty hall, then back to the list. The first item was scrub the kitchen floor. Which she’d done yesterday. The next item was bake three loaves of bread – was the woman out of her mind?
She sat at the kitchen table and tapped the list against her chin, thinking. Then she remembered a couple of things she’d heard … and the pieces came together. Mrs. Caulder wanted Bernice married to Jess! Was Mrs. Templeton in on it as well? Was she in fact doing her darnedest to get rid of her?
