Amandas's Mail Order Cowboy: The Story of A Mail Order Bride and Her Mail Order Husband (Mail Order Brides Book 14)

by Susan Leigh Carlton

  “That poor child,” Jenny said. “How is she doing, now?”

  “She was doing really well until some Indians came asking for food. They scared her, and she started screaming, and hid under the bed. It took some doing to get her to come out again,” Rance said. “Truth be told, she is one of the main reason’s I’m doing this. She needs a mother.”

  “You can’t just do this for her,” Jenny said. “It wouldn’t be fair to the lady. It wouldn’t be fair to either you or Abigail.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Jim’s wife Cora had told me she was a mail order bride. That’s where I first heard the term, and I had thought about it, but just didn’t act. Consuela, she’s my housekeeper by the way, told me Abby needs a mother and I need a wife. So, here we are.”

  “What about the Russell place?” Cal asked.

  “I went to Laramie and talked to the County Judge. He appointed me Abby’s guardian. I set up a trust in her name, and the farm is in her name. I keep a separate set of books on the cattle, and the money from that will go into her trust fund,” Rance said. “If I get married, I intend to adopt her.”

  “I adopted Chris,” Cal said. “He thought it was great. So now we have two.”

  “Why don’t you bring Abby to church, and we’ll have lunch and introduce her to Becky?” Jennie asked. “I’ll have to warn you, Becky is a heart stealer. Cal hardly has time for me since she came along. She has her daddy twisted around her little finger.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” Cal said. “The part about me not having time for you, I mean. There’s always time for you. I have to admit to the twisted around her finger part though.”

  “I’m sure your Mrs. Martinez can handle everything, but if you need help with Abigail, let me know,” Jennie said.

  “That’s very kind of you, Jennie. I appreciate what you’re doing here today. Now, I need to write a letter.”

  “Glad to do it. I’ll get the paper to you,” Cal said.

  The next morning at the Lazy K…

  “Mr. Pierce asked me to bring this to you,” the rider said. He handed Rance a bag.

  “Tell Cal I appreciate it,” Rance said. The rider spurred his horse and was gone.

  chapter Six

  The Letter From Rance

  The Matrimonial News

  Kansas City, Missouri, USA

  Dear Editor, I would like to place an ad in your newspaper.

  I am a cattle rancher, never married, thirty two years of age. I am six feet two inches tall and weigh 180 pounds. I have dark hair and dark eyes. I have no physical impairments. I can read and write.

  I am the legal guardian of a two year old girl. I have a large ranch in the Wyoming Territory. I would like to correspond with a lady of same approximate age, with weight proportional to height. She should be able to read and write. Matrimony desirable if compatible. Transportation provided.

  I am enclosing a bank draft in the amount of $1.00 to cover the cost of the ad.

  I look forward to your response.

  Sincerely,

  Rance Kendall

  Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory.

  Rance read the letter several times and decided he could do no better, and addressed the envelope, inserted the letter and sealed it. He mailed it on his next trip to Cheyenne.

  The next Sunday…

  Rance dropped Consuela at the Catholic Church, and then went to his Methodist Church. He lifted Abby from the wagon, and took her hand to join the other worshippers. She held her doll, clutched tightly against her chest. He spotted the Pierce family and led Abby in their direction.

  He greeted Jennie, and shook hands with Cal. “This is Abigail,” he said. “Abby, this is Mrs. Pierce, and Mr. Pierce, and their daughter.”

  Jennie knelt, and asked, “What’s your doll’s name?”

  “Sarah,” Abby answered.

  “Sarah is a pretty name. Did you pick it out?”

  Abby nodded.

  Jennie said,“Abby, this is my little girl, Becky. Becky, tell Abby your doll’s name.”

  Becky was irrepressible and never met a stranger. She talked a mile a minute. “My doll’s name is Jennie, just like Mama’s name. How old are you? I’m three. I live on a ranch. Where do you live?”

  “I don’t know where she gets all that chatter. Neither Jennie nor I talk that much,” Cal said. “Of course, we don’t get much of a chance when she’s around.”

  “I mailed a letter to the newspaper this morning,” Rance said. “Now I wait.”

  “That’s the hardest part,” Cal said.

  “It is,” agreed Jennie. “Abby is precious, and so solemn. She’s been through a lot. Why don’t we sit together so the girls can get better acquainted?”

  “Thank you. Abby would you like to sit with Becky?”

  Abby nodded her head. Becky took her hand and the group entered the church. At the door, Jennie knelt down and looked at Becky. “No talking in church, Becky. You can talk later.”

  “Yes Mama.”

  “She’s a special little girl,” Rance said, of Becky.

  “Bossy, too,” Cal said. “Like her Mama. Chris and I are outnumbered at our house.”

  “Just listen to you,” Jennie said, laughing. “The big bad cowboy being bossed by two women.”

  “And loving every minute of it,” Cal said.

  Two weeks later…

  Rance opened the plain envelope, stamped with a return address of Kansas City. Enclosed he found a newspaper and a short letter from the editor:

  Dear Mr. Kendall. We thank you for choosing our newspaper for your ad. We hope you find success as others have. We proudly boast our ads have resulted in 2,600 marriages to date. I took the liberty of creating an ad from the facts contained in your letter. For reference purposes, you have been assigned number 9206. Your ad will contain this number and any correspondence should contain the number. You will find your ad on page eight of the enclosed paper. We look forward to serving you. The letter was signed by the editor.

  On page eight, Rance found his ad. It said: Thirty-two year old ranch owner, six feet two inches tall, 180 pounds desires correspondence with ladies of same approximate age, with proportional size and weight. She must be able to read and write. Matrimony an objective if compatible. Transportation provided. Reference Number 9206

  chapter Seven

  Amanda Taylor

  Elmira, New York 1877…

  Heartbroken was the only way to describe her.

  Amanda Taylor, a five feet six inches teacher in the Elmira public schools, lay face down on her bed, her long blonde hair splayed around her. She was crying.

  “Amanda, what’s wrong?” her mother asked, when she heard the sounds coming from her lovely daughter’s room.

  “It’s Randall,” Amanda said, and turned to face her mother, her blue eyes swollen and brimming with tears.

  “Has he been hurt?” her mother asked.

  Amanda shook her head. Randall Cunningham was a teacher in the Elmira High School, and had courted Amanda for nearly five years. He called at her home, every Saturday at seven o’clock. She had seen no one else during that time.

  “What happened, then?”

  “I saw him with that Helen Dorfman. He was kissing her, Mama. When I asked him about it, he laughed and said it didn’t mean anything. It meant something to me.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked her mother.

  “I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. He laughed about that too, and said there were plenty of girls that did.”

  “He’s not worth shedding your tears. I often wondered why he never asked you to marry.”

  “I asked him, Mama. He said he wasn’t ready to get married yet. Maybe someday.”

  “You’re lucky you found out. It’s a good thing you weren’t married. He would have been doing the same thing,” her mother said.

  “I don’t want to be an old maid. I want someone to hold me and love me. I want to have babies; and have a family.”
<
br />   “I’m sure the right one will come along for you. It just wasn’t Randall.”

  “I’m thirty years old. All of my friends are married. Randall is the only man I’ve known.”

  Her mother looked at her strangely. “Did you and Randall… Have you…” her voice trailed off.

  Amanda’s face colored.

  “Oh dear,” her mother said.

  Elmira College Library…

  Amanda graduated from Elmira College in 1868, and had been a teacher in the public school since then. She also taught piano in her home. She visited the library on a regular basis, reading the old newspapers from around the country. As she went through the papers, she found one she had never seen before. It wasn’t filed with the other papers; instead, it was lying on a shelf. The paper was The Matrimonial News.

  She took the paper to her favorite reading spot, well lit by the window behind the reading table. The front page gave the details of the paper’s mission and its mode of operation. The other pages contained ads, and announcements. As she read, her interest grew. She read through several pages of the ads. The descriptions made her sad. Desperate people looking for happiness. She said, “I fit that description.” This might be her chance to lead a normal life.

  She copied the names and numbers given for those desiring to place an ad. She put it in the bag she used to carry papers home that needed to be graded, and forgot about it.

  After dinner, Amanda took the papers from her bag and began grading them

  The address fell to the floor. Am I that desperate? She answered her own question. I am.

  She gathered the graded papers and put them back into the bag. She went to her room, the address clutched in her hand.

  Dear Editor, I am a thirty year old school teacher in Elmira, New York. I have long blonde hair, blue eyes. I am five feet six inches tall. And I weigh 128 pounds. I would like to correspond with a man of the same approximate age. I would prefer his size and weight to be proportional. As an elementary school teacher, as well as a piano teacher, I like children and one or two children would not be a hindrance. Sincerely, Amanda Taylor

  After a discussion with herself, Amanda mailed the letter. She said nothing to her parents about what she had done. They would have been appalled.

  Saturday evening 7:00PM…

  The knock on the door came as a surprise. Her father answered the door. It was Randall. “Is Amanda expecting you?” he asked.

  “It’s Saturday night,” Randall said confidently.

  “Amanda,” her father called out. “It’s Randall.”

  Amanda came downstairs, and into the living room. Randall moved to kiss her on the cheek as he had always done. She backed away from him, “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “It’s Saturday. I always come on Saturday,” he said.

  “Not anymore,” she said and strode from the room. “Papa, would you please show him to the door and make sure he understands he’s not welcome here anymore?”

  “I will,” her father said. “You heard her. She doesn’t want to see you and you are not to come back.”

  “Wait, there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”, Randall said.

  “No. Not a misunderstanding, a mistake was made and you made it. Now, leave please.”

  With no other alternative, Randall left. He glanced up at her bedroom window. The room was dark, so he didn’t see her watching.

  She went back downstairs. “Thank you, Papa,” she said.

  “I never did like him,” he said.

  “Well, he shouldn’t be coming around anymore.” Amanda said.

  “What are you going to do now?” Honey,” he asked.

  “I’ve got a stack of essay papers to read,” she said.

  Ten days later…

  “Amanda, there is a letter on the table for you,” her mother said, when Amanda came in from school. She took the letter with her and went to her room.

  She opened it and found a letter and a paper. The letter addressed the guidelines for the use of the ads. In the letter, she was told her reference number was 9508 and her ad was on page nine.

  In the teacher’s usual methodical manner, she read through the collection of ads, circling the ones that interested her. She circled five before she was finished. Of the five, she picked two to which she would respond.

  One of the two had lost his wife to pneumonia; the other had never been married. Interesting, the one who never been married is a guardian for a little girl. She must be a relative’s child. I think he will get my first letter.

  chapter Eight

  Amanda’s Letter

  Dear Number 9206, I have just read your ad in The Matrimonial News. I find it most interesting. I am a thirty year old college graduate. I teach in one of my hometown’s elementary schools. I am five feet six inches tall and weigh 128 pounds. I have blonde hair that reaches half way down my back. My eyes are green. Like you, I have never been married. I also teach music from our home. I like children and consider that a key to being a successful teacher. In addition to my children at school, I would like to have a family of my own. I am beginning to doubt that will happen. One of the things that intrigued me about your ad was your being the guardian of a two year old. You have taken on a challenge there and I admire the courage required for this responsibility. I hope you find my letter suitable, as I would like to correspond with you. Sincerely, Number 9508

  She mailed the letter on her way to school the next morning. Wonder how long it takes to get an answer? If I even get an answer.”

  That evening…

  Amanda looked at the other four ads she had circled. One of them had been placed by a man who identified himself as a fruit grower with two children, thirteen and fourteen years old. He was thirty eight. He’s too old for me, I think. Why did I circle him? I need to go back and look at these again.

  I’m not going to write another until I hear or don’t hear from number 9206.

  Nine days later…

  The mail was still in the mailbox when she got home. Good, Mama would get curious if she knew I was getting mail regularly, since I never have before.

  The letter was from the newspaper, but it was not from 9206. It contained two responses to her ad.

  One of the two said I am twenty eight years old. I’m a gold miner and have a working claim. It is going to pay off big, if I can get another three month grubstake. Would you be willing to take a chance on getting rich?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “You don’t think what?” her mother asked.

  Amanda hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud. “Oh nothing, Mama. I’m reading these essays and was talking to myself. I think I’ve been at it too long. It’s time to give it a rest.”

  “Mama, I need to tell you something that is going to sound strange to you, and will probably upset you. I can’t help it. It is something I have to do.”

  “What is? I don’t understand.”

  “Mama, I want to get married,” she said.

  Well, for goodness sakes, I know that. So you and Randall made up?”

  “No, Mama, we didn’t make up and we’re not going to, I want nothing to do with him. He’s a cheat and a philanderer.”

  “There’s this newspaper;” she held out the paper to her mother. “Look at it, Mama. After the front page, there is nothing but ads from people looking for husbands and wives.

  She pointed, “See the number? That’s how you’re known to anyone reading until you tell the editor to give them your name and address. I’m number 9508, and my ad is on page nine. The answers go to the paper and the editor scans them for anything that might be in violation of their rules, and then he forwards those that are all right. So far, I’ve received four letters.”

  “And what is the point to all of this?” her mother asked.

  “The point is, if you communicate with someone and think he or she might be someone you would be interested in, you arrange to meet them. The gentleman pays for the lady’s tr
ansportation, and if they find themselves compatible, they marry. If they don’t, the lady returns home.”

  “And you’re doing this?” her mother asked.

  Amanda took a deep breath, let it out and said, “Yes, I’m doing this. I’ve written one letter, but haven’t gotten an answer yet. There is a shortage of men of my age, mostly because of the war. Other parts of the country, there must be a shortage of women. The paper is trying to bring them together,”

  “Amanda Taylor, I can’t believe you are taking part in such a harebrained scheme. It would kill your papa if he knew.”

  “Mama, it’s easy for you to think the way you do. You have your man, and the security that brings. I don’t. Do you realize you and Papa are the only two people in the world that love me? There should be more to life. There has to be more, and I’m willing to take this chance to find them.”

  “You’re a grown woman, and I can’t stop you from ruining your reputation if that’s what you’re set on.”

  “How is it going to ruin my reputation? Only you and Papa will know in Elmira, and only an editor in Kansas City knows my name and where I live. Are you going to stand up in church and announce I’m a fallen woman, writing to men all over God’s creation?”

  “You know I would never do that,” her mother said. “It’s just that I worry so about this.” Who knows what can happen to you, if you go off into God only knows where to meet some stranger you’ve never laid eyes on.”

  “Mama, look at this. They say they’ve had over 2600 marriages through the paper,” Amanda said.

  “Even if it’s true, and you don’t know that it is, do you know how many of those 2600 women are dead and buried?” her mother went on.

  “Mama, I’m going through with this. If it bothers you so much, I’ll move to Mrs. Gill’s boarding house. Just tell me if that’s what you want.”

  Her mother came to her and hugged her. “You’re all we have in this world, Amanda. I don’t know that we could bear it if anything happened to you.

  “Don’t worry, Mama, I’m not going to do something totally stupid. I’m not going to write to anyone else until I hear from 9206.