Katie: Clover Springs Mail Order Brides Book 1

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Katie: Clover Springs Mail Order Brides Book 1 Page 2

by Rachel Wesson


  Katie did as instructed and soon there was a knock, the door opened and Nellie came in.

  “You called, Ma’am.”

  “Nellie, these girls are here to help you. Show them to their room and tomorrow you can instruct them on their new tasks. Good night, girls.”

  Their aunt turned away. Katie squeezed Ellen’s hand reassuringly before saying to her aunt’s back, “Thank you very much, Aunt Margaret, for bringing us to America. We will work hard. Daddy and Mam brought us up proper. We know how to behave.”

  Her aunt whirled around, eyes fiery with temper.

  “Obviously, you don’t. The word is properly, not proper, and if that were the case, you would know not to speak to your betters. Here, girl, you speak only when spoken to. Now leave.” Margaret turned her back and walked toward the chair where her husband had stood earlier.

  Katie opened her mouth, but Nellie grabbed her arm, shaking her head quickly. She motioned at the girls to follow her.

  “Goodnight, Ma’am.”

  The cook closed the door behind them, crossing herself as she mumbled something.

  “Don’t go upsetting the mistress. She will make you pay in ways you can only imagine. Before you go to bed, come down to the kitchen for a quick bite to eat. I’m guessing you are hungry. The master is out for the evening and she will stay where she is for a while yet.”

  Katie and Ellen followed the cook gratefully back to the kitchen. They were starving and the aroma of fresh baking teased their senses.

  Ellen started eating right away. Katie took her seat, but before she lifted her fork, she asked Nellie if she knew of a convent near the port.

  “That would be St. Margaret’s, the orphanage run by the Sisters of Mercy. Although why they are called that is anyone’s guess.” Nellie’s face screwed up in distaste. “Why are you asking me, child?”

  “We had some friends on board the ship. Their parents died during the crossing. I thought Uncle Joseph would help them.” Katie couldn’t say anything else. Her voice felt strangled.

  “Your uncle sent them to the sisters? That would be about right. I am not one to judge my betters, but when it comes to that man, he would give God a hard time to find anything decent about him.”

  Nellie shook her head. She wiped a tear from her eye with her apron before giving Katie a big hug.

  “Don’t you fret, Katie, my girl. You and your sister will both be fine here. Nellie will see to it. Just you wait and see. Now eat up while the food is still hot. Life is always better with a full belly.”

  “Thank you. These are delicious,” Ellen said, in between mouthfuls of food.

  “You never had flapjacks before?”

  “Not like these.” Ellen spoke with her mouth full but Katie was too tired to correct her.

  Nellie beamed as Katie and Ellen showed their appreciation by clearing their plates. Katie watched without comment as Ellen used her finger to mop up the last traces of the syrup Nellie called molasses. Maybe America won’t be so bad after all. I will find the convent and give Mary our address. We can stay in contact by letter until the time comes when we can be together again.

  Nellie showed them to the cold attic room they were to share. There were two beds, but after quickly undressing, they both climbed into the same one.

  “Katie, I want to go home. I don’t like it here. It’s not like Daddy promised,” Ellen whispered, clutching Katie as if she would disappear in the night.

  “Hush, Ellen darling. We are lucky. Imagine if we had to go to the nuns.”

  Katie’s stomach turned when she saw the effect of her words on Ellen. Her job was to comfort her sister, not worry her. She pulled the girl closer. “Nellie seems very nice and kind. We got well fed, too. It will be much better in the morning with Aunt Margaret. You’ll see. Now get some sleep.”

  Katie hoped Ellen would believe her, even if she had little faith in what she was saying. She held her sister close until her sobs gave way. The child had fallen asleep, her little face wet with tears. We won’t stay here long, my darling girl, I promise.

  But even as she promised, Katie’s heart fell. They had only a few pennies left from the money Daddy had given her. That wouldn’t be enough to get them away from Uncle Joseph and his horrible wife.

  Chapter 4

  The first two weeks passed quickly. The girls were exhausted. They were used to cleaning but nothing had prepared them for the amount of work required to please their aunt. Time after time, she reprimanded them for not meeting her standards. Usually Katie couldn’t see what she was complaining about, but her aunt’s sharp tongue meant she stayed quiet. Ellen lost her ability to smile and cried herself to sleep every night. Katie envied her sister’s ability to rest. She couldn’t relax, her mind spinning over and over, trying to find a way out of their present situation.

  Katie stared at the ceiling. Mam, we need your help. Mam was dead; Daddy was thousands of miles away. Ellen was too young. It was up to her. She had to find a way out of this mess. She just had to.

  Katie stretched and reluctantly left the warm bed calling Ellen to get dressed quickly. Today, they were to accompany their aunt and uncle to church for the first time.

  Waves of homesickness swept over Katie, caused by the familiar smell of incense and the sound of the Latin Mass. Ellen spotted Mary and Catherine Ryan and pulled on Katie’s dress, causing their aunt to reprimand them both for fidgeting.

  Katie couldn’t believe how awful little Catherine looked. The girl stared at her without any sign of recognition. Mary didn’t wave, but instead looked nervously at the harsh-looking nun who was monitoring her every move.

  Maybe we will get to speak at the end of service. It seemed unlikely they would get the chance, but then Uncle Joseph unknowingly came to the rescue. The nun in charge of Mary Ryan’s group greeted Katie’s uncle like a long lost friend. Thus, with their guardians otherwise engaged, the girls were able to catch up in excited whispers.

  “What’s it like in the convent?”

  “Oh, Katie, it’s awful. The only time we get to spend together is here at church. Catherine has to sew all day long in the orphanage. Look at her. She looks like she will keel over any second. I have to work in the kitchens. If I was on my own, I would run away, but I couldn’t leave Catherine alone.” Mary bit her lip.

  Katie took her hand and gave it a squeeze. It wasn’t much, but she didn’t want anyone to see. “We will find a way out, Mary. Have faith.”

  “Faith? Honest to God, Katie, if you spent five minutes in the orphanage you wouldn’t have any belief left. You should see how harshly the little ones are handled. I wish I could take each and every one away. But we have to be careful. The ones they don’t like get sent on the orphan trains.”

  “The what?”

  “Come along, girls. It’s time to go home.” Uncle Joseph looked at Katie and Ellen, his tone making sure they moved quickly.

  “See you next week, Mary.” Katie whispered, but there was no sign her friend heard her. She gripped Ellen’s hand tightly as they turned to leave the church, but the priest stopped them by calling out to their uncle.

  “Joseph O’Callaghan, ‘tis lovely to see you and the wife. Are these fine girls your nieces come over from Galway?” The priest didn’t give Joseph a chance to reply, but turned instead to Katie. “Father Molloy is my name, but sure you be knowing that. How was your trip over? It nearly killed me. I pray every day that our Holy Father doesn’t see fit to send me back over the ocean again.” Katie and Ellen giggled at the look on the kindly priest’s face. “‘Tis lovely to have a chance to speak to some of my own people. I am from a village called Monivea. It’s a small place just outside Athenry. Do you know it?” The girls nodded. “Would you come to tea next Tuesday? I would be right glad of the company. I mightn’t want to cross the sea, but I do get homesick for the old country.”

  Katie saw their uncle was going to decline on their behalf, so she answered quickly. “Thank you very much, Father. We would love to come. Mary R
yan might know people from your village. She lived further away from the city than we did. She and her little sister Catherine live in the orphanage. Their parents died on the voyage over.”

  Please invite them, too.

  Father Molloy winked, before saying loudly, “I will ask Mother Superior to allow the Ryan girls to come to tea, too. Mrs. Raines, my housekeeper, will bake us a cake. We will have a feast.” Father Molloy turned to Uncle Joseph. “It’s a real pity you have to work, Joseph, or you would be welcome too. See you Tuesday, girls.”

  Katie tried her best to hide her smile as they left the church. Uncle Joseph looked like he had sucked a lemon, but even he wasn’t brave enough to turn down an invitation from the priest.

  Thank you, Mam. You sure work in mysterious ways. I know we are luckier than most. It may not be luxurious at Uncle Joseph’s house, but at least we are together. We have our health and Nellie to look after us.

  Chapter 5

  Near Clear Creek, Colorado

  Montis Cassidy kicked off his spurs, taking his frustration at his brother out on the mongrel at his feet. A wife. What in hell’s bells did he need one of those for? They had China George to cook for them, he took his laundry to old Mrs. Williams, and if he ever needed some company, there was the saloon.

  Virgil was wrong. There was no need for a woman around here. Montis surveyed the room. It wasn’t the cleanest he had seen, but they never had company, so what did it matter?

  What was it Virgil had said? Having a wife would make him more respectable. Respectable. What good did that do? He’d rather have money in his pocket. He stalked over to the table, looking at the congealed mess sitting on the plate. He hurled it to the floor in frustration. He should have eaten in town. As he looked at the mess on the floor, his stomach rumbled. It sure would be good to have someone cook some decent food for a change. China George served beans with everything.

  Montis scratched his beard. Might be nice to have someone to warm his bed. It got mighty cold during the winter months. Having someone to spend time with would make the long summer nights pass pleasantly enough, too. The grin on his face disappeared as he remembered the last woman to live in this house.

  What if she’s like Ma? No, there couldn’t be anyone as bad as her. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear her screaming as she battered him with a skillet or whatever else came to hand. She had never hit Virgil, though. She left him for Pa to deal with.

  His skin crawled as he thought he heard his brother ride up. It must be getting late if he was home. He looked out the window, but it was only one of the hands. He sighed with relief.

  Virgil always got his own way. There was no use arguing, especially if his brother had stopped into the saloon before coming home. He might as well get on with it or he would risk another black eye or worse.

  He sat back down at the table and licked the top of the pencil.

  Wanted:

  Pretty wife for medium sized prosperous ranch owner.

  Montis stopped. That sounded good, didn’t it? Okay, he had to write something about himself.

  I’m 28 years old, got all my own teeth and brown hair. I’m 6ft and of slim build. I have myself some horses, cattle and other farm animals. Need wife who knows how to care for livestock. Looking for a first rate housekeeper and cook. Must be used to solitary life as nearest town is about two-hour drive away.

  Further the better as far as Montis was concerned. Oh, best add something about going to church. What was it that the advert had mentioned? A reference from his minister.

  The minister. Now, how would Virgil get around that one? Montis scratched his head with the pencil. He added a line at the end confirming he was a regular churchgoer and upstanding member of the local community.

  He sat looking at the untidy piece of paper. No matter how hard he tried, his writing always looked as if there were spiders running loose. It would have to do.

  Where was Virgil anyway? The door banged. Speak of the devil.

  “Montis. You got that letter wrote yet? Or do I need to do it for you?”

  “Why you so keen to see me get hitched? Why can’t you get a wife if you want one so much?” Montis risked answering back. Virgil seemed in a better mood than usual.

  “I am too old to be setting up home with some woman. But someone needs to. China George isn’t getting any better at cooking and nobody coming here is ever going to believe we are respectable gentlemen.”

  Huh! We’re not gentlemen, never mind respectable, and one woman’s not going to change that. But Montis kept his thoughts to himself. There was no point in getting Virgil all riled up. He took the crumpled letter out of his pocket.

  Maybe nobody would want to come out west. Virgil couldn’t force him to marry if a girl didn’t show up.

  Chapter 6

  Boston

  Boston Brides - Mail Order Bride Service

  Seeks young women of good health, reputation and family background. Must be accomplished in domestic skills and keen to wed and make their home out West.

  If interested, please reply, in strictest confidence, to Mrs. Maura Gantley of Boutwell Avenue, Train Street, Dorchester, enclosing a letter of introduction accompanied by two character references, one of which should be from your minister.

  Katie stared at the advertisement in the Boston Chronicle. Could she marry a man she hadn’t met? Her mother would turn in her grave. But what choice did she have? There weren’t many positions open to unmarried Irish girls in the Boston area and even fewer still for those who insisted on bringing along their younger sister. Wonder whether Mrs. Gantley would allow Ellen to accompany me? Probably best not to mention her younger sister until a match had been agreed upon. Katie smiled self-consciously. She hadn’t been accepted yet, but she was almost packing her battered old traveling trunk.

  Could she live out West? Well, anything was preferable to staying under Aunt Margaret’s roof for much longer. In her more Christian thoughts, she almost felt sorry for her childless aunt whose husband seemed to do his utmost to stay away from home. But having been on the receiving end of Margaret’s temper, she understood Uncle Joseph’s reluctance to seek out her company.

  When she got married, she wouldn’t give her husband reason to seek comfort elsewhere. She’d better stop thinking that way or she would spend hours on her knees saying rosaries, asking for forgiveness. Not that she could ever admit to Father Molloy she had been thinking about her future husband and their marriage bed. Cheeks hot, she shoved the ad in her pocket and started scrubbing the table so hard with the polishing cloth, she could have rubbed a hole in the wood.

  As she got on with her chores, her mind explored the potential pitfalls. I wonder if Nellie knows of Mrs. Gantley. Maybe she wasn’t respectable. There were rumors of ladies who offered women opportunities not at all suitable for innocent young girls. Taking the paper out of her pocket, Katie read over the ad again. Surely the Boston Chronicle would check. Still best to talk to Nellie before she sent off her letter. Nellie would help with the character references. It wasn’t as if she could ask Aunt Margaret to provide one. That old witch would destroy any hope of a happy future if she got the chance.

  Would Father Molloy give her a character reference? She wasn’t sure he would help her marry someone unless he was satisfied the gentleman was also a Catholic and willing to wed in church. Perhaps he would give me one if I said it was for a job?

  Maybe Mrs. Gantley matches up couples on the basis of religious beliefs. Personally, she didn’t care what religion the man was or whether they got married by a Judge or a priest. The events of the last year made her doubt the existence of the God everyone in her family seemed to have absolute faith in. Sure, she attended church and all the associated services, but that was for Ellen’s benefit as well as an excuse to escape from her aunt’s clutches for a few hours. Katie smirked. Father Molloy would tell Mrs. Gantley she was one of his most fervent believers, as she and Ellen went to as many prayer services as they could.

  She
liked the old priest and enjoyed the Tuesday evenings at his house. His housekeeper might not be as good a cook as Nellie but she was a kind old soul. She could see the Ryan girls were underfed and always had a feast waiting for them. Father Molloy got called away so regularly that the girls believed it was his way for them to get a chance to catch up with each other in private. Katie was grateful to the kind old man. She loved seeing her friends and it meant time away from Aunt Margaret.

  Taking the ad back out of her pocket, she checked to see if anything about faith had been mentioned, though she knew well what the words said, having already memorized them.

  Katie sighed and put it away. Why dream up obstacles now? As Mam used to say, life was difficult enough without anticipating problems. Katie smiled, although her heart was sore. In her head, she could hear her mother’s lilting Irish accent as she told her, “Patience, Katie darling. If something is for you, it won’t go by you.”

  Chapter 7

  “Thank God today is over. My poor old feet thought they were never going to stand still.”

  “Sit down, Nellie. Would you like some tea and some cake?” Katie said, looking with concern at the older woman’s feet. Her ankles were swollen. She really should see a doctor.

  “Just a drink, Katie girl. I don’t think me getting any bigger is going to help my feet.” Nellie laughed as she swatted her stomach. Her laugh faded as she caught the thoughtful expression on Katie’s face. “What’s wrong, love?”

  “Nellie, do you know of a Mrs. Gantley from Boutwell Avenue?”

  “Maura Gantley? Why are you asking? She hasn’t offered you a new position as a maid, has she? Don’t know what I would do without you, Katie girl!”

  Guilt making her stomach churn, Katie sought to reassure her friend.

  “No, I haven’t found a new job.” The guilt got worse at the look of relief on Nellie’s face. Katie put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the ad. “Read this. You won’t like it, but please just read it through.”

 

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