She waved to the two children and got off the carriage. She made her way to the ticket selling counter.
‘Good day Mister?’ Edna said. ‘Is there a train leaving for Ohio?’
‘Ah you’re right on time. There’s one leaving in the next half an hour. May I get you the ticket?’
Edna hesitated. She needed a little time to think about it.
‘Give me a few moments.’ Edna said.
She sat on the platform and watched as passengers filled the carriages. She sat holding her satchel tightly. Was she running away from her problems? They had seemed so monumental back at the ranch. What tugged at her heart were the children. They had lost their mother only a few months ago and now she was deserting them too. She remembered how Victoria clung to her and the sound of her sweet voice when she called her ‘mama’. She had made progress with Patrick in the last couple of weeks.
They spoke more and he told her his thoughts, most of which were centered on his fears over he and Victoria’s future. She assured him all the time that no matter what happened, the ranch was their home.
The thirty minutes went by and the final bell for the train rang. When it left, Edna was still seated on the platform. She would not leave, she decided. She would apologize to Marcus with all her heart and ask him to give her another chance.
Edna was an honest person by nature and she hated deceit. With a lighter heart, Edna stood up, grabbed her satchel and made her way out of the station. Her children, as she now thought of Patrick and Victoria needed her. Her husband needed her too, and she needed them. They filled her life with a sense of purpose that had been lacking before.
***
Marcus paced the front room as the two children watched him anxiously. He had a bad feeling about Edna’s disappearance. At first, he had thought that she had returned to pick more berries but it was approaching evening. He had even walked to the boundaries of the farm where he thought she would be picking the berries but she wasn’t there.
Unable to withstand the lack of activity, he decided to go to her room. The bed was well made as always and everything appeared as it should. He opened the chest of drawers and to his dismay, he found them empty. He rushed to check for her satchel under the bed. It wasn’t there. She had gone. Edna had left.
He thought hard. There was only one way to leave the state and that was by train. He looked at the time. There was no time to lose. He would go to the depot and if she hadn’t left, he would beg her to stay. Marcus refused to think of what he would do if she had left already. He could not bear to think of life without Edna.
She was like a ray of sunshine in their lives. She had made the house a home and even the children behaved like children now, chasing each other over the grass, their laughter ringing throughout the compound. With her love, Edna had broken through the children’s grief. It wasn’t just for the children. Marcus felt a stirring in his heart every time he thought of her.
Edna had a beautiful soul as well as physical beauty. He longed to take her into his arms and kiss her, but too much had stood between them. Now, Marcus regretted having waited for so long. Maybe she thought that he had no interest in her and that, could not have been further from the truth. She was the most attractive woman he had ever met, and sometimes, he had to tear his eyes away from her.
‘Can you sit here quietly and wait for me to return? I won’t be long and I don’t want you two to leave the house, is that clear?’
‘Yes papa.’ They echoed, their faces telling him how worried they were over Edna.
He hitched the buggy to the horse and rode it out to the road. He had just gotten to the main road, when in the distance; he saw the unmistakable figure of Edna. He urged the horse to go faster. Marcus got off even before the horse stopped.
‘Edna!’ he cried out.
She dropped her satchel and ran into his arms.
‘I’m so very sorry Marcus.’ She said, her voice muffled by his sweater. ‘I don’t deserve you and the children, but I couldn’t bear to leave.’
‘Edna…’ Marcus could not speak.
He held her tightly for several minutes then held her at arm’s length.
‘I’m sorry too for my coldness, will you forgive me?’
‘But I don’t blame you!’ Edna cried out. ‘I deserved it. I lied to you. Marcus, I’m heavy with a child borne of Samuel and myself.’
‘I know. I have eyes you know.’
‘I thought if I told you in the letters, you would not want me.’ She said, casting her eyes down.
Marcus gently lifted her chin so that her blue eyes were on his.
‘I lied to you too, by not telling you about the children. I thought you would not accept my proposal if I did.’
They both chuckled shakily.
‘The child you’re carrying is as much mine as yours and Samuel’s and I give you my word that I’ll treat him or her as my own.’
‘And I’ll treat Patrick and Victoria as my own.’ Edna said.
‘You already do.’ Marcus said softly. ‘Come now, let’s get you into the buggy, it’s chilly out here.’
He helped her into the buggy, then, before returning to the driver’s seat, he held her eyes.
‘I couldn’t imagine my life without you Edna. Not just for the children but for myself too. I love you very much my dear and my life holds no meaning without you. Please don’t ever think of leaving ever again. We must talk about any problems that we may have.’
‘I promise never to run off again. Though, I didn’t make it very far.’
‘No you didn’t and for that I’m mighty glad. The children are very worried about you too. They won’t say a word but I know they fear you might have left them too.’
‘Oh no, I thought about that. Shall we leave my satchel in the buggy and I can say that I was late coming from the store?’ Edna said her voice filled with worry.
‘That’s a good plan my dear.’
That night, Marcus led Edna to their room for the first time. As soon as the door shut behind them, he did what he had longed to do for weeks. He touched the curls of her hair and then brought his lips down to hers. They clung to each other as though by letting go, they would drown in the sea of emotions that surrounded them.
Later, Marcus mused over the last hour and wondered how he had managed to resist Edna. He looked at her now, her brown hair spread all over his chest. He could feel the movement of the child in her tummy and felt a closeness to the child. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her sweet scent.
‘I love you my dear.’ He murmured.
‘I love you too.’ She replied sleepily.
It felt good to fall asleep with Edna in his arms. It would be like this between them from now henceforth, Marcus promised himself. After a second try, he had finally found the woman of his dreams, not to take care of the children only, but a woman for him to love and cherish.
*****
THE END.
Western Love
Mail Order Bride
CHRISTIAN MICHAEL
Chapter One: Run-ins
California, 1885
Constance Lowell allowed her father to help her from the carriage, lifting her skirts to keep them from the mud that lay along the roadways.
“Be careful pumpkin,” Mr. Robert Lowell said as he held his daughter’s arm to save her from slipping. “If you ruin that dress your mother will have my hide for certain.”
“I’ll be careful, papa.”
“Good,” he smiled. “So Rupert, tell us more about this clothing company.”
“Yes, sir,” Rupert Merchant said with a solemn nod of his head. “The Bethel Clothing Company was founded on a street corner during the Great California Gold Rush. With no more to work with than rags, the owner’s wife would sew them into worthwhile breeches for men to purchase at half the cost of buy them brand new. As time went on, she garnered enough sales to purchase new material. Still, she kept her prices low and business poured in. By the time the gold rush lost interest,
Mr. and Mrs. Smitz had built up enough revenue to purchase this here building and the acreage that surrounds it. It’s in the process of being passed down to their son Jameson, but as he’s away in college, there’s no telling when the transition will actually happen.”
“Can we take a more detailed tour of the facility?” Constance asked, her green eyes clearly interested in how a clothing company ran from the inside.
“Absolutely, Miss Lowell.”
She followed her father inside and gasped at the intense heat inside the building. Almost immediately it became harder to breathe and she started to sweat. She brought out her fan and began fanning herself as she scanned the workers. For the most part they looked worn thin, their bodies adapted to the life of hard labor. But when her eyes fell on a child who couldn’t have been more than seven, pushing around a car to collect garments in, Constance felt an unspeakable rage rush through her. She marched up to the foreman, taking leave of her father and demanded. “Does Mr. Smitz condone letting children labor in a sweat shop like this?”
“Excuse me, Miss?”
“I asked if Mr. Smitz supports the idea of letting children work in a sweat shop, doing no doubt, work meant for an adult?”
“Mr. Smitz wants efficiency and there’s no better way to get it, than the way I’m doing it.”
“I demand to speak with him.”
“Constance,” Robert Lowell said, a grin on his face. “Leave the man alone. He’s got a business to run.”
“Absolutely not, father. I beg your pardon, but I cannot stand by and watch a child suffer under the constraints that are barely tolerated by full grown men and women. He’s seven, maybe. How is it fair to ask that of him?”
Constance knew she was making a scene, but rarely did she care about such things. Stopping the boy with a gentle hand on his shoulder, she kneeled down in front of him, smudging her new dress with dirt. “What’s your name?”
“Billy, ma’am,” the little boy said. His frail body made tears swell in Constance’s eyes and she worked hard to swallow them back.
“Won’t you come with me now, Billy?”
“But I have to work, ma’am. If I don’t work, Mr. Strickland won’t pay me and that’s all the money my mama has.” The boy’s plight nearly broken Constance in two as she took the boy’s hand.
“Mr. Strickland, from here on out Billy will go to school and will never set foot in this factory again.”
“Whatever lady,” The foreman replied. “Just so you know, though, when his mother is better she’ll be out of a job.”
“Constance Marie,” Robert said, catching up to his headstrong daughter. “You can’t just yank a boy out of his job. What does he do tomorrow when his mother has no money because you took his job away?”
“He’s going to school just as I said father.”
“And how will his mother survive, let alone provide for him?”
“I’m going to hire her while we’re here. Then, I’m going to talk to Mr. Smitz about the operation he’s running here and the deplorable conditions of his workers, let alone the atrocity I witnessed today.”
“Oh, I blame your mother for you streak of stubbornness. And thank you very much by the way, she’ll tear me a new hide for the stain on your new dress.”
“It couldn’t be avoided and I’ll pay to have it professionally laundered out of my allowance.”
“What are you going to hire Billy’s mother to do exactly?”
“She’s going to be my assistant as I’m going to make sure that the Bethel Clothing Company is strongly reprimanded for hiring children and working them to the bone as if they were full grown adults. Despicable practice,” she huffed, taking her seat when her father handed her up in the carriage.
***
Jameson Smitz sat in his office trying to finish the inventory he’d need to send in today if he wanted to continue to supply clothes for is branding line without interruption. Frustration kept the numbers from tallying and every time Jameson tried to make them, he just succeeded in making himself madder. Tossing his pencil on his desk, He stood up and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air.
“Thank you, Lord,” Jameson said, planting a smile on his face.
“It seems odd to see a man thank God when he can’t even abide by decent labor practices,” came a soft, feminine voice from behind him.
“Excuse me?” Jameson said, turning to see a beautiful, if young, woman standing with her hands on her hips.
“I said, you shouldn’t be thanking God when you can’t keep children from working themselves to the bone in your sweat shop.”
“And you are?” Jameson said, feeling a headache develop behind his eyes. Her blonde hair was done up in a way that drew his gaze to her angry face, and the fire that seemed to spit from her pretty green eyes. Jameson had the urge to grin at her, but given her current stance, he figured it’d probably get him a kick in the teeth rather than a polite smile in return.
“My name is Constance Lowell. My father Robert is here attending an advisory meeting at Stanford University and I’m visiting with him. We took a tour of your factory yesterday and I was beyond appalled by the presence of a seven years old boy name, Billy, who was pushing a garment cart around. His face was darkened by dirt and he looked slim enough to fit in the leg of one of the pairs of britches your factory makes. Are you so hard up for workers that you’d take on a boy who should be in school learning?”
“You’re saying that there was a little boy working in my factory yesterday?”
“Yes,” she huffed, making Jameson grin after all. She had some attitude going on that was for sure.
“It isn’t a common practice for Bethel Clothing Company to hire anyone under sixteen, ma’am,” Jameson said, his own eyes hard, focused, and serious. In fact, it is strictly against our hiring policy and I guarantee you that I will deal directly with the person who’s in charge of hiring for that particular job.”
“Thank you,” she said, not quite smiling. “I’m sorry if I came off rudely Mr. Smitz. I just couldn’t stand by and let it go. I should also tell you that I took that little boy home, saw that he cleaned up, and escorted him to school. I’ve also hired his mother for the remainder of the school year so that Billy can attend class as a boy his age should.”
“I agree,” Jameson said, admiring the young lady’s spunk. She wasn’t one to just let things slide because it wasn’t exactly her place to speak of them. She was a go-getter and would make someone a very active and interesting wife when she was old enough to marry. “I promise Miss Lowell that this matter will be handled immediately. And to go a step further, I will keep in touch with you about the matter if you’re agreeable to that?”
“I’d greatly appreciate that, Mr. Jameson.”
“Excellent,” he smiled. He extended his hand and shook hers lightly. “I suppose I’ll see you at the gala at Stanford on Saturday night?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, adding a wink. “For now, I must ask you to excuse me. I have business to attend to, including a reprimand for my employees.”
“Yes, please. Ado, Mr. Jameson.”
Chapter Two: Heading Home
Constance didn’t know exactly how she should feel as the train pulled away from the station. She’d had a wonderful time in California. Visiting Stanford and seeing prominent places, meeting important people. She’d changed two lives while she was there. Little Billy Porter was able to stay in school until summer and his mother, Agnes, had risen to the opportunity she’d been offered. As a parting gift, Constance had asked her father for an advance on her allowance and sent a gift basket to the impoverished woman. Inside she’d tucked nearly five hundred dollars, enough for a year’s income. Hopefully it’d give her enough time to find a decent job. Constance had also written her an exemplary performance review, praising her work ethic and skills.
Her heart, however, was torn in two. She’d indeed seen Jameson Smitz at the Stanford g
ala that had been put on to raise money for the Leland Stanford, Jr. Museum. Jane Stanford was the main speaker of course, telling of the heartbreak of losing her only son.
“He was the light of my life,” she’d said, “Without him I am only existing.
“Opening this museum will be like bringing my son back to me and will give the public a glimpse of his brightness and the treasures from far off places.”
Still, if Constance was to choose a moment that changed her entire outlook on where her life was headed, it was confronting Jameson Smitz about little Billy Porter. Being an outspoken woman, she was used to seeing a plethora of people at speeches, women suffrage parades and the like. Even then she’d never seen a man as handsome as Jameson. His thick brown hair was as unruly as a child’s sticking out everywhere when the breeze blew so that he had to run a hand through it to keep it out of his eyes.
His face was young, despite the two-day beard he’d sported and his smile had been warm and welcoming. But if she were asked and forced to be honest, she’d have said it was the allure of his beautiful sky blue eyes that had truly pulled her in.
“What did you think, Pumpkin?”
“Excuse me?” Constance said, blushing a little when she realized her father had been addressing her and she’d neglected to listen. “I’m sorry, father. What did you ask?”
“I mentioned to mother that Jameson Smitz seemed to be an honorable and trustworthy young man, certainly worthy of consideration as a board member.”
“You’re going to resign as a board member of the university?”
“Your mother and I would like to travel during our golden years. You yourself will be off to school and there’s no sense of us waiting around for you to graduate and settle into a career or motherhood.”
“Oh,” Constance said, wondering which she’d choose when the time came. “Well, I suppose that’s the practical solution then.”
The train pulled into New York two weeks later and all too soon, Constance was back into the routine of school, friends, socials, and celebrating the Women’s Suffrage movement. Two weeks later her first correspondence from Jameson arrived and her hands shook just trying to open the letter.
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