by Dalia Wright
"How sad that she belongs to another," Dillan said. "Perhaps I really need to get you a lovely wife from the east."
"I'm not even going to have this conversation with you," Alex said. He rode off toward home, leaving Dillan laughing at him yet again.
Strangely, Alex pondered the idea of getting a woman from the east to be his wife. How bad could it be? She would cook for him, have his children, and love him all the days of his life.
This is stupid.
And yet, he still pondered.
***
“That cheeky old man!” Francine cried. “I knew he had something up his sleeve!" Harriet dropped her head in her hands and sighed.
"What should I do, Fran?" she asked. "If I don't marry him, I'll lose everything."
"But you can't marry him! He's old, and quite frankly, he doesn't deserve you. No gentleman would force a girl into marriage."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"The obvious, of course," she replied. Francine took hold of Harriet's hands and squeezed them with much affection. "Sweetheart, don't you see? Uncle Victor deliberately set you up with that boy in the west. If you ask me, the old man knew he was going to die, and Mr. McIntosh would try to manipulate you like this. I think he wants you to let go of this property and go to the west to make a life for yourself."
Harriet blinked a few times, her mouth hanging open. "Are you serious?" she blurted. "Do you honestly believe that I would run off to the west to marry some boy who I don't even know?"
"Do you want to marry Mr. Wrinkles?" Francine raised a defiant chin, making her blonde hair spill over her shoulders.
"This is so confusing!" Harriet screamed. "How did I end up in this kind of situation?" Before Francine could respond, someone knocked on the front door. The two women glanced up simultaneously. "I should get that." Harriet stood to her feet and ran both palms over her dress, in an attempt to straighten it.
She opened the door, keeping her fingers crossed that it wasn't Mr. McIntosh bothering her again. His meeting with her was only two days ago, and she was not ready to see his face again.
The gentleman who stood outside was not one she knew. He was tall, slightly grey-headed and his green coat and hat were quite fancy.
"Hello," he greeted her. His brown eyes smiled more than his mouth did. She could already tell that he was a nice man.
"Hello," she replied. "How may I help you, sir?"
"I'm looking for a young lady by the name of Harriet Milestone," he said. "Do you happen to know her?" Harriet's smile disappeared and her brows furrowed.
"Who's asking?"
"The name is Alexander Rivers." He held out a hand to her. Harriet knew that name, which was the very reason why she didn't want to touch him. In her moment of frustration, her anger began to spill to the top, and she stepped back and pushed the door forward.
The man slid a foot in to stop her efforts. "Whoa," he exclaimed. "Now, now, that's no way to treat a visitor, Ms. Milestone."
"Go away," she said. "I'm not leaving, so don't waste anymore of your time."
"But I'm not wasting my time," he answered. "Your uncle told me that I should give you some time, because you will make the right decision. That's why I've planned to stay a while until you make up your mind."
He took up a suitcase from the ground and lifted it for her to see. Harriet stared at the man in disbelief. "You're not staying in this house! I don't even know you!" He pushed the door open and walked in.
"Don't worry, you'll know me soon enough." When his eyes caught Francine, he grinned broadly. "Hello. The name is..."
"Alexander Rivers, I heard," she said, smiling. She held out a hand which he gladly shook. "Francine Hayes, best friend of the beauty in the room."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Francine," he said without hesitation. "You're quite a beauty yourself. My nephew, Dillan, would love you." Francine stared at her shoes, as her cheeks reddened.
"If you two are quite finished, I'd like you, Mr. Rivers, to leave my uncle's house this instant. You are not welcomed here."
"This is quite a lovely house," he said, ignoring her. "I have to say that every time I come here." He walked around the living room, admiring his surroundings. Harriet folded her arms on her chest as she observed him.
"What do you know about this house, mister?" she asked.
"A lot, actually," he replied. "I used to come here quite often when you were just a toddler. I stopped coming by though, when business became more demanding, and then, time just flew away. The last time I saw you, you were barely three. My son, Alex, was five at the time. You two were inseparable then."
She listened to him babbling on, and she wondered if any of this could be true. She was so young at the time, so it was impossible to remember him, or his son for that matter. Harriet wondered if the boy remembered her. Perhaps this was the reason why he wanted to marry her.
What am I thinking? I don't know these people.
"That's lovely. I hear the west is filled with much opportunities for work. I'd love to go there some day." Harriet glanced at Francine. The girl seemed to be enjoying Mr. Rivers' company. Perhaps this was a good sign.
No, no, no!
There was no way she could give up everything she had here. She was going to have to work out another deal with Mr. McIntosh. She could work and pay him back, no matter how long it took. Yes, that was a much better plan. She was going to have to set another meeting with him, but first, she was going to have to find a way to get Alexander Rivers to leave.
Chapter Four
Harriet jumped to her feet when she spotted Mr. McIntosh's carriage. She ran to the door and opened it even before he came to a halt. She offered him a bright smile as he approached. "Good morning, Mr. McIntosh."
"Good morning, Harriet," he answered. "It's nice to see you in such high spirits." She managed to keep her smile going as she led him inside the house. Thankfully, Mr. Rivers was not there. She'd tried for days to get him to leave, but nothing she said could convince him. Nevertheless, she was somewhat able to get him to leave the house for the day, with the help of Francine of course.
"Would you like some coffee?" she asked him.
"No, thank you, Harriet. So, tell me, have you made any decision as yet?"
"Well, yes. I was actually wondering if we could renegotiate and come to a fairer and more honest conclusion."
"You want to renegotiate?" Mr. McIntosh asked. "Ms. Milestone that is not an option. The original plan remains."
"But I am willing to work and pay you everything my uncle owes you."
"I don't want you to work and pay me back, Harriet. I want you to marry me. That way, you will be debt-free, and Victor's property will remain in your hands. It's a done deal. All you have to do is say yes."
Harriet's shoulders slumped in defeat. She should have known this would be the result. The man didn't really care about the money, he was more interested in claiming her. This was it. The time of decision making.
"I'm sorry, Mr. McIntosh, but I could never marry you." The words rolled off her tongue without hesitation. Silence fell between them for what felt like two eternities. Harriet waited for the man to explode, but he didn't. He stood to his feet and adjusted his jacket.
"Ms. Milestone, it's clear that you aren't thinking straight, so I will give you more time to think this through." He strolled off to the front door, not waiting for a response from her.
"Mr. McIntosh, I..." she paused when he opened the door. Alexander Rivers was standing there. Francine was nowhere in sight. Harriet swallowed the lump in her throat. She'd done everything in her power to avoid this meeting, but here was Mr. Rivers, facing Mr. McIntosh.
"Hello," Mr. Rivers said, pushing pass Mr. McIntosh.
"Who's he?" Mr. McIntosh asked, frowning.
"The name is Rivers. Alexander Rivers. Pleased to meet you." He held out a hand to Mr. McIntosh, but the man refused it.
"And who are you supposed to be to Harriet?" he asked.
"H
e's just an old friend of my uncle," Harriet told him. "Mr. Rivers is a merchant, and he was on one of his journeys when uncle died, which is why he didn't make it to the funeral. Nevertheless, he has come to pay his respects."
"And to take this lovely bride back with me." Harriet could not believe that he said those words. She could hear Mr. McIntosh's sharp intake of breath. He did not look very pleased.
"Bride?" he asked.
"Yes."
Mr. McIntosh turned to look at Harriet, all blood drained from his face. She'd never seen him like this before, and for some reason, it amused her. She folded her lips, in an attempt to restrain herself from laughing.
"Harriet, what is the meaning of this?" he snarled. "How dare you bring another man under this roof? I've shown you such great kindness, and this is how you repay me?" Harriet's jaw fell to the floor.
"Kindness?" she snorted. "Do you even know the meaning of that word? All you've done these past few days is threaten me, and cause me sleepless nights. Nothing about that is kind."
"Harriet, you will regret this," he growled.
"Do you see what I mean? I could never marry such a mean, self-centered man like you, even if you had no wrinkles!" Another sharp intake of breath, and she knew she'd really angered him. It didn't matter now, though. She'd made up her mind.
"Ms. Milestone, I want you out of this house by tomorrow."
"Don't worry, Mr. McIntosh. I will be leaving this house. I'm going to the west to marry someone who at least has some amount of respect for me." She finally said it, and she meant it. This was the only way. She was going to Oregon to marry Alex Rivers.
Chapter Five
The two women climbed out of the carriage and walked hand in hand to the train station. Alexander was following close behind with the luggage. He loaded them on to their train, leaving the girls to have their last chat.
"Do you think I'm being silly, Francine?" Harriet asked. "I mean, I don't know this man. Never met him before. What if he doesn't like me?"
"Stop with all those negative thoughts," Francine scolded. "You're a smart, talented and beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have you in his life."
"You're too kind!" The horn of the train began to blare in the early morning. Those who, like Harriet, were talking to loved ones, began making their way on to the train.
"I think I have to get on now," Harriet said.
"I know." Francine threw both arms around her friend. "Have fun over there, okay?"
"I will."
"And write me letters every day. I'll be looking out for them."
"I will. I promise." The women hugged each other for the last time. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"Me too. But don't worry, soon you'll be married and then you'll be having children. You'll have more than enough to replace me. Uncle Vic knew what he was doing."
"Don't say that, Fran," Harriet said. "No one in this world could ever replace my best friend. You are better to me than wealth itself."
"I am, aren't I?" Francine joked. The girls burst into laughter, though they were both crying. Harriet used her thumbs to wipe away Francine's tears.
"Thank you, Fran. You're the best."
"I love you, Harriet."
"I love you, Fran." One last embrace, and Harriet boarded the train with Mr. Rivers. She could not stop herself from trembling. She was doing something that she wasn't sure about. She'd left the property to Mr. McIntosh, but it was one of the hardest decision she ever had to make.
"Don't worry," Mr. Rivers said. "You'll like him. He's a good boy." She gave him a forced smile, but turned her eyes out the window. She hoped that Alex Rivers was just as nice as his father made him out to be.
The train jerked forward, as the horn continued to blare. Vaguely, she could hear her name being called. When she looked through the crowd, she spotted Francine waving at her. She smiled and waved back. The waves did not end until Francine was completely out of sight.
Suddenly, Harriet began to feel a deep emptiness inside her. She began to think that perhaps going to Oregon was not the best idea, but what could she do now? It was way too late to turn back now."
***
Alex sat in his father's home office and stared at the pen and paper before him. After days of thinking, he decided that he would write to a girl in the east. The only problem was, he had no idea what to write about himself. He was already surrounded with bundles of used paper that he'd crushed and thrown all over the floor.
Was it really this hard to write about himself? He took up the pen and began to scribble words again. By the time he got to the third sentence, he was stuck again. "This is crazy," he mumble under his breath. He crushed the paper and dropped it on the floor. Alex rested his head in his palms, wondering what to do next. The urge to write to a girl in the east would not let him be.
The sound of approaching horses caught his attention, and he snapped his head up. He stood and looked through the window, and there he could see his father coming in the distance. Alex made quick work of cleaning up the office before going out to meet his father.
As he stood and waited, Dillan came strolling out and stood beside him. The cart came to a stop, and Mr. Rivers stepped out. "Oh yes, it's so good to be home."
"Welcome back, uncle," Dillan said. "We thought something had happened, since we didn't hear from you."
"Don't worry about this old chap," he said, laughing. "I don't go down that easily." He turned back to the carriage and held out a hand. Alex's brow lifted with much curiosity, but when the delicate hand slide out and rested in her father's, his mouth fell open. The young woman stepped out, wearing an emerald green dress.
Her hair looked like it was on fire in the bright sunlight. And her skin, it was so pale, and so flawless. He studied every inch of her lovely face. She made the damsel in distress look quite mediocre.
"Christ," Dillan mumbled. "She's so gorgeous."
Alex shared the same thought, but kept it to himself. He wondered who she was, and why she was there. As far as he knew, his father was a merchant, and it wasn’t women that he bought and sold.
Mr. Rivers kept her hand in his, and walked her to the two gentlemen. "Welcome to my home, Harriet," he said. "This is Alex Jr., my boy, and this is Dillan, my nephew. Boys, this is Harriet Milestone from Baltimore."
"Ah, Dillan," the girl expressed. "I've heard much about you."
"You have?" Dillan replied, smiling. "I wonder what my dearest uncle could possibly say about me."
"Only wonderful things," she said. Alex watched the two exchange words, and he could not help but feel invisible. She'd overlooked him and spoken to his cousin instead.
"Nice to meet you, Alex." He glanced up at her with surprise. He was surprised at the surge of electricity that ran through him when she called his name.
"Likewise, Harriet," he replied. "And welcome to Oregon."
"Thank you." The two locked eyes with each other, and for a moment or two, butterflies invaded his stomach. Alex could hardly breathe.
"Dillan, could you show Ms. Milestone inside?" Mr. Rivers asked. He did not wait for a response but turned to Alex. "Son, please help me with these bags." Dillan gladly showed her inside, leaving a jealous cousin scowling at him.
Alex followed his father to the cart and began unloading it. Mr. Rivers took up a few items as well and straightened himself. "Son?" he called.
"Yes, father?"
"Ms. Milestone, she is here for you."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"She expects you to ask for her hand in marriage." Alex’s gawked at his father.
“What did you say, father?” Alex could feel his blood boiling inside him. How dare his father take a woman home for him to wed? This was the problem he’d always had with his father. The man was always trying to fix him, when he wasn’t broken.
At least, he didn’t think he was.
Alexander Rivers did not respond, but walked into the house. Alex stormed in after him, but by the time he caught up to h
im, he was in the living room with Dillan and Harriet.
“Mr. Rivers, this is quite a lovely house,” Harriet said, looking around her. Alex frowned at her. Her beauty was not as captivating as it was before. She was a girl, and of course, girls were light-headed, stupid, and were always trying to get men who can take care of them. He could tell that this one was no different.
“Thank you, Harriet,” Mr. Rivers replied. “I hope it does you some amount of justice, given the lovely house you lived in back in Baltimore.” She said nothing, but gave him a small smile. Somewhere in that smile, Alex could see grave sadness. Already he could tell, this girl does not want to be here. His father had never struck him as the type who forced people to things against their wishes, so why was this girl sad?
Who is she anyway?
***
Harriet was enraptured with the handsome man that sat before her at the dinner table. She never once considered that he was this good looking. Her only issue was that, he didn't seem as interested in her as she'd initially thought. It made her wonder if he was being forced into this.
"Victor was my good friend," Mr. Rivers stated. He'd been sharing with them how he and Victor had become friends, and Harriet did try her best to listen, but Alex Rivers. He was so...distracting.
He kept staring at her, probing her, and it made her extremely uncomfortable.
"But what about your parents, Harriet?" Dillan asked. "Where are they?" She glanced at her plate and licked her lips, in an attempt to hide her discomfort.
"My parents passed away a long time ago," she answered.
"Really?" he said. "That makes two of us." Harriet looked over at his smiling face, and she found so much warmth and comfort in his response. She'd never met anyone who had lost both parents.
Dillan was a wonderful young man, and much more open than Alex Rivers. The two looked more like brothers than cousins though. Same dark brown hair and light brown eyes. They even stood at the same height. The only difference was that Alex Rivers observed more than he spoke.
