Mail Order Bride: Love On The Line: A Mail Order Brides Western Romance

by Harper, Catherine

  Hearing the words and feeling like she was back in control of her life once more, Elizabet felt a load lift off her mind. Getting out of her seat and joining Martha, she felt a nervous excitement that hadn't been there before.

  Covering the desk with snapshots Martha smiled on seeing her eyes light up. "Now what type of man were you looking for."

  Elizabet looked over the faces and couldn't find an answer.

  "This is my favorite bit," Martha said. "Makes me feel like a real life fairy godmother.—Now Elizabet, let's go find you your prince."

  Chapter 6

  Standing on the steps of her father's store, Elizabet put her hand in her purse and rummaged around for its keys. Brushing off the small piece of card as she did so, she remarked on how quickly the last six weeks had gone. Expecting to dread the extra time she'd have to share with Charles, she found it pass without incident. Thinking that maybe she'd be faced with him on a daily basis, she found he'd given her a wide berth. Wondering what his thoughts were and seeing the stores sign still display her father's name she imagined he was playing a waiting game. Somewhere in his twisted mind she could imagine him thinking that she'd mellow to him and see him as a husband for her. Feeling a shiver run up her spine at the thought and wanting something better to focus on, she left the keys where they were and took out her ticket. Holding it in her hand she smiled thinking of the amount of times she's pored over it. Ignoring the name of the shipping company, she looked over the only two details that were important to her, the departure date and the destination. In three days from now, she'd be on a paddle steamer on her way to meeting John. Holding the card and clutching to her chest, she daydreamed of a typical day with her and her husband strolling the streets of San Francisco arm in arm. Closing her eyes, she pictured the boutique John had promised he'd buy her and began thinking of how she'd dress its window. Lost in world of material, dresses and mannequins she was quickly brought back to the real world by a passer-by clearing his throat. Embarrassed by how she must have looked and feeling her face blush, she quickly replaced the ticket and began another search for her keys.

  Smiling to herself Elizabet took her key and put it to the door, expecting to have to turn it she found the door open freely. Wondering what had happened and fearing that the shop had been burgled, Elizabet stood back and pushed the door open wide. Waiting there and hearing no movement she got the courage to step inside. Looking around she found it just as she'd left it. Thinking that she hadn't locked the door properly, Charles said, "Morning, Elizabet."

  Giving a jump and seeing him smile at her reaction, she quickly found her anger step in. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  Smiling, he pointed to himself, "Me? You do remember that it's my shop-"

  "What do you want?" Elizabet asked.

  "Just wondering how business is going? I called by a few times this week and found it closed. You wouldn't be trying to do something stupid like trying to run it into the ground, would you?"

  Elizabet smiled and said nothing.

  "Well?"

  "Well, what?"

  "Are you?"

  "Although it's none of your business, I was sick this week. And as for the store, I've too much love and respect for my father's memory to left it fail, even to spite you."

  "That's good," Charles said, strolling by the counter top and caressing the rolls of material on it. "You look good, Elizabet. Those couple of days did you some good. Such a nice sparkle in your eyes."

  Standing by the open door, Elizabet pulled it open and held it there. "I don't know about you, but I've got a business to run. I've no time for small talk."

  Charles nodded his head. Walking to the door, he paused, "By the way what was that you had—the sickness I mean?"

  "What's this, Charles, are you moving into medicine now?"

  Charles smiled, "There's that fiery spirit that I love. It's good to see it back again." Walking past her, he paused on the door step and looked skyward. Looking back he said, "Looks like there's a storm on the way. Wonder what the weathers like in San Francisco?" Hearing the city mentioned, she knew he caught the reaction on her face. "You have a good day, Elizabet."

  Elizabet pushed the door closed and watched him walk away. Reading his body language she could tell there was a smugness in his posture. Looking like he'd been let in on a secret, she suddenly thought of the office and ran to it.

  Pushing on the office door, Elizabet froze at the scene in front of her. Looking to her father's desk, she found it littered with torn pieces of paper.

  "No. No. No."

  Knowing where they'd come from, but still hoping she was wrong, she went straight to the desks only drawer and found it gone. Looking around for it and picking it up, she watched as its broken latch fell to the floor.

  "Why did you have to leave them here?" she groaned, picking up a fragment of paper. Looking at the handwriting on it and remembering what the full letter contained, she felt sick at the thought of what Charles now knew. Apart from the sweet words John had written to her, it also contained her departure date and destination. Thinking back to Charles mention of San Francisco and a storm coming, she wondered if it was a thinly veiled threat. Would he do harm to her, she wondered? Running from the office to the shop door, she pushed home its dead bolt. Looking to the world outside and wondering if it was safe to go home, she knew there was one thing for certain, there was no way she could stay in the shop any longer. Hoping her father could forgive her for what she was about to do, Elizabet went straight to the shops safe and cleaned it of all its cash.

  Chapter 7

  Rushing into Martha's office, Elizabet pushed the door closed and stood there panting.

  Getting out from behind her small reception desk, Martha came running over. "Elizabet, are you alright?"

  "He knows, he knows."

  "Who, Charles?" she asked, escorting her to a nearby chair.

  "Yes, he broke into the shop," Elizabet shook her head. "I was so stupid keeping them in the shop's office. I never thought he'd-"

  "That he'd what? What does he know?"

  "Everything, my departure date, destination, everything."

  "When did this happen?"

  "I don't know, maybe today, maybe a few days ago— I don't know. I stayed away from the shop. When I opened up this morning, he'd ransacked the office and found everything. All John's letters torn and thrown around the room."

  "My, my," Martha muttered patting her leg. "Listen, maybe we better take this conversation through to the back."

  Nodding her head and wiping away a tear, Elizabet found Martha's hand held out.

  "I know things look bad now, but remember it's always the darkest before the dawn. Come on, we'll find a solution to this."

  Now in Martha's office and a cup of tea placed in her hand, Elizabet felt a little of the darkness lift.

  "OK, so we know Charles knows you've become a mail order bride."

  Elizabet nodded and took a sip of her tea.

  "And he knows you're leaving in three days."

  Elizabet nodded again.

  "So he expects you to be around for the next three days. Hmmm, let me think," Martha said and gazed at the ceiling lost in her thoughts. "If only there was a sailing between now and then-"

  "But John has already paid for my ticket, I can't ask him to send any more money. How would that look…?"

  "How about a train?" Martha asked.

  "Train?"

  "We might be able to get a ticket for one in the next day or so. Although traveling on it won't be comfortable. We're talking ten days sitting on a hard wooden bench. You think you could do that?"

  "At this stage, I'd walk there to get away from him."

  "OK, train is then," Martha said, clapping her hands. "We'll get you a ticket today. I'd love to see Charles face when he finds out you're already gone."

  Smiling at that thought herself, Elizabet replaced her cup on its saucer and placed them on the table. "How much is a first class ticket?"

/>   "I don't know, but it's going to be a lot more?" Martha said.

  Seeing the confused look on Martha's face, Elizabet smiled and put a small leather bag on her lap. "I'd like to go first class."

  "What's that?"

  "Let's just say it's a going away present from Charles." Elizabet said. Opening it up and taking a small bundle of notes she put them on the table. "I think he'd agree that I deserve that."

  Looking at each other, both woman broke into fits of laughter.

  *****

  Elizabet sat in their hired cab and waited for Martha to return. At first wanting to go on her own, Martha had argued against it. Worried about Charles discovering their plan, she purposefully left it until an hour before departure before going to the train station. Feeling that something was wrong, or the train overbooked, Elizabet let out a sigh as she saw Martha walk quickly toward her with the small leather bag in hand. Opening the door and allowing her room to get in, Elizabet asked, "Well?"

  Saying nothing Martha put the bag on the floor of the cab and reached over to her purse. Opening it and taking out the ticket, she commented, "God it felt so good handing over that money, you know that? I don't think the cashier ever saw someone so happy to hand over so much cash."

  Holding the ticket and seeing it for more than the piece of paper and ink it was, Elizabet smiled at it. Watching Martha hand over the leather bag, Elizabet put her hand on it. "Take it."

  "What? No. I couldn't."

  Elizabet held her hand there not letting Martha move hers. "Please, keep it. I've taken all I want from it," Elizabet said, pointing to her new dress. "Treat yourself to a new hat—or a new set of china. I don't care. Put it to good use. I've got more than enough money to get me to San Francisco. Give it a good home."

  "Well, if you're sure—there was a hat that I-"

  "I am—and I want to see a photograph of you in it."

  "Alright then. Done. Are you ready? The train leaves in twenty minutes."

  "I am."

  Martha tapped on the ceiling of the cab and called to the driver. Waiting for him to dismount she asked him to take Elizabet's bags down off the roof. Once done she called over a nearby porter and pointed out the bags. Watching him put them on a small wooden trolley she turned to Elizabet. "So Miss Elizabet, I guess it's time to say goodbye. They won't let me walk with you to the platform—something to do with not having a ticket—it's been fun."

  "Sorry for all the drama," Elizabet apologized and gave her a hug.

  Martha shook her head. "Just glad I could help. Tell John I said hi."

  "I will, thank you."

  Martha nodded. "Go on, off you go. And write to tell me. I want to know what first class travel was like."

  "I will. And don't forget about the hat," Elizabet said and fell into step behind the porter. Walking behind him in her brand new dress and hat, she smiled as man nearby tipped his hat to her. Looking back, she saw that Martha had seen the exchange too and was laughing. Waving goodbye one final time, she walked away with a spring in her step, feeling like all her birthdays had come at once.

  Chapter 8

  Taking her seat, Elizabet made herself comfortable and looked at the landscape through her window. Leaving the built up metropolis that was New York a day ago, she found everything after that seem tiny in comparison. Flying by another small town and thankful that she wasn't getting off there, she turned on hearing her waitress clear her throat. Holding out a morning menu she handed it over and asked. "Good morning, Ma'am, what can I get you for breakfast?"

  Looking through the selection of breakfasts and remembering the wonderful meal she'd had the night before, Elizabet closed the menu and asked, "Just some tea, please. I'm think I'm still trying to digest the dinner I had last night."

  Smiling back and nodding, she replied, "Tea it is then. I won't be a moment."

  Watching the waitress leave to get her order, Elizabet once more found the world outside impossible to take her eyes off. Cutting through a large area of prairie she watched a small herd of buffalo gallop by. Looking as if they were trying to keep up with the train, she found them fall back and disappear into the distance.

  "Is this seat taken?"

  Taken aback for a moment, Elizabet looked up to find a man gesturing to the seat across from her. "I-"

  Given no time to answer, she found him help himself to the seat opposite her. "Thanks, the car's a bit crowded this morning for some reason." Wondering how to react to her uninvited guest, he smiled. "I know you're dining alone."

  "How did you come to that conclusion?" Elizabet asked.

  "Come on, we both know you're traveling to San Francisco on your own-"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Well you are, aren't you?"

  Elizabet sat dumbfounded as he smiled at her reaction. Wondering how to reply to his cheekiness, she found her opportunity gone as the waitress came back with her breakfast. "Your tea, Ma'am—oh I'm sorry, I thought you were dining alone."

  "Well I was, until this gentleman helped himself to a seat," Elizabet said and found him hold out a hand to shake.

  "It's Tom," he smiled.

  Elizabet said nothing and left his hand hanging there.

  Looking to the waitress and taking his hand back, he grabbed a menu and gave it a quick scan. "Eggs, bacon, and a pot of your best coffee, darling."

  "I'm sorry, are there anymore tables?" Elizabet asked, leaning out and scanning the carriage.

  "I'm sorry, Ma'am. We had to uncouple our other dining car late last night. Something to do with the brakes sticking on it—hopefully we'll be picking up one at our next stop."

  "That's fine, she can eat here with me. I don't mind," Tom said and handed back his menu. "If that's OK with you…?"

  Elizabet said nothing and stared at him.

  "We'll be fine, don't worry about us," he smiled at the waitress. "Takes her a little while to get warmed up in the morning.”

  Sensing the tension in the air, Elizabet wasn't surprised as the waitress left as quickly as she could.

  Turning his attention to her, he asked, "So, San Francisco, you never said why you were going there-"

  "I didn't," Elizabet said, pulling her teapot closer to her and filling her cup.

  "So what's a good looking girl like you doing traveling alone-?"

  "I mightn't have a choice in sharing a table with you, but would you do me the courtesy of keeping quiet."

  Sitting back in his seat and grinning, he asked. "Only if you tell me your name-"

  "Seriously? What age are you?"

  "Old enough," Tom replied.

  Taking a sip of her tea, Elizabet spat it out on his answer. Chuckling to himself he said, "This the way you normally eat at breakfast time?"

  Putting down her cup, Elizabet searched frantically for a handkerchief to clean her face. Unable to find one, she found one held out to her.

  "You seriously think I'd rub my face in that?"

  Holding it out further, Tom smiled. "It's clean I promise. And you better hurry up or you'll stain your dress."

  Elizabet took the handkerchief and rubbed her face as quickly as she could. Once done, she promised herself that she'd wash her face at the first opportunity she got. Handing back the handkerchief, she mumbled a low thank you.

  "You're very welcome…?"

  "Elizabet."

  "See that was easy, wasn't it?"

  "Listen Tom, whatever you think is going on here it's not," Elizabet waved her finger between them. "We're just two people stuck sharing a breakfast table." Picking up her cup she took another sip and tried her best to ignore him. Looking at the glass she could see him gazing back at her in their reflection.

  "So Elizabet, you never said, what's a beautiful girl like you traveling on a train to San Francisco?"

  Elizabet turned back at him and asked, "You're not going to stop, are you?"

  "Come on, two single people stuck on a train for the couple of days-“

  "Excuse me?"

  "Well, I'm
single, and I think you are too-"

  "Listen you can knock that thought out of your head, as if I'd be interested in someone like you. And for your information I'm already promised to someone else-"

  "Mail order bride, should have known it."

  Looking around to see if anyone else had heard him, Elizabet whispered loudly. "You mind not advertising that fact to the world."

  "So who is he?"

  "That's none of your business."

  "You know if I was going to marry a girl like you I'd go and fetch you. Imagine making you travel all this way on your own-"

  "Well, you won't have to worry about that, will you? And it's none of your business what my husband wants me to do-"

  "You're not married yet, you said husband-"

  "Seriously?" Elizabet exclaimed and put her hands to her head. "I can't believe I'm even having to explain myself to you."

  "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

  Elizabet leaned out of her seat for any sign of the waitress or a free seat. Groaning in frustration, she found neither.

  "What's wrong? You're not having second thoughts cause you're attracted to me, are you?"

  "You honestly think that?"

  "Well, how could you resist these rugged features?" Tom said, framing his face between his hands and then giving her a side profile. Finishing off with a contemplative pose, Elizabet couldn't keep a serious face any longer, bursting out laughing she knew she'd given him the ammunition he needed. "Well?"

  Answering no, Elizabet couldn't help but feel a small part of her answer yes. Shocked that he was growing on her, she tried her best to push that thought away and focus on John instead. It didn't work for long. Reaching across for the tea pot she found him get to it before her. Holding her hand on his for longer than needed, she felt her face blush and heart beat faster than before.

  "Let me," he said, taking the pot and topping up her cup. "Although you can't expect this great service every time we dine."

  "We're going to go through this again?" Elizabet said, adding the milk.