Lottie: Bride of Delaware (American Mail-Order Bride 1)

by Kit Morgan

“Be ready to leave in the morning. I’ll try to get tickets for an early train.” She still had that funny look in her eyes, and he wondered what she was thinking.

  “We’ll be ready,” she finally said and stood.

  He took her by the arm and held her there. “Lottie?”

  “Yes? Is there something else?”

  “Maybe this isn’t the time to say it,” he said while also thinking it bloody well was. “But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I plan on being a good husband. I never thought I’d send for a mail-order bride – I always thought I’d get a wife the conventional way. Even so, what groom goes to fetch his mail-order bride? I suppose I was never very conventional. What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do my best by you.”

  He could see a flicker of admiration in her eyes. “Thank you, Sam. Those are very kind words. I hope I can do the same as a wife.”

  He let go of her arm. He didn’t know what compelled him to tell her those things. They just bubbled up out of nowhere. “Good. We’d best get things in order, then.” He stood and offered her his arm. She took it and together they went back to the sisters’ tiny house several streets away. With any luck, he and Lottie would be married the day after tomorrow.

  * * *

  As it turned out, Sam, Lottie and Leora were able to get to Dover and obtain a license as planned (a minor miracle in itself) well before lunchtime. When they reached the church, things were looking very good.

  “You want to get married … now?” the church’s pastor asked. He was short and portly, with red cheeks and the air of a man easily rattled.

  “Yes,” Sam said. “You see, Miss Mitchell is my mail-order bride and I’d like to be heading home as soon as I can.”

  The preacher looked at Lottie, then spied Leora standing behind them. “What about her?”

  “She’s my sister,” Lottie told him.

  “She’ll serve as your witness?” the preacher asked.

  “Yes,” Sam said. “That too.” He hadn’t thought of that, and was glad Lottie’s sister had come with them. If they’d had no one to act as witness, it would mean one more delay, and he wanted to get to Chicago and spend a few days. Somewhere along the way he wanted to purchase some new clothes for his bride. She didn’t even have a wedding dress, poor thing. She’d worn the same dress as the day before, and he quickly concluded it was her one and only best.

  If he was correct, he hated to think of what her other dresses (or probably dress) was like. Most women of her means might have two if they were lucky. He’d paid closer attention when he returned the sisters to their home and concluded that becoming mail-order brides was a practical solution to their dilemma.

  Despite Lottie’s protestations to the contrary, they certainly were damsels in distress – economically, at least. The same with the women rooming with them – they were doing the best they could with what they had, but they were in a very tight situation indeed. He found he admired their pluck, and hoped and prayed that they married good men of moral character that would take care of and protect them.

  Speaking of which … “So, can you marry us?” Sam quizzed the preacher.

  “Yes, so long as the license is in order.”

  Sam pulled some papers from his coat pocket and handed them to him. “It’s all there. Miss Mitchell is my mail-order bride. You’ll find the marriage license and a copy of the contract there as well.”

  “Let me take a look at these and we’ll get it done. I haven’t much else to do right now. But that won’t last. Something always happens. Just last night there was a fire. Darn shame, too …”

  “A fire?” Lottie said, her eyes suddenly alert. “What kind of fire?”

  “A house fire. Always tragic.”

  “Was anyone killed?” Leora asked.

  “Not this time, thank the Lord. Burnt the house to the ground, though. People that lived there were out visiting sick folk. What a shame – they lost everything.”

  “Yes, a shame …” Lottie locked eyes with her sister.

  Sam watched the unspoken exchange. They hadn’t been so lucky when their house caught fire, and had lost something much more precious than the roof over their heads. His heart went out to them. To lose their only source of employment to the same thing must have really been unsettling. “Where is the family now?”

  “Not sure. Probably staying with relatives. My wife told me about it this morning. She’s out gathering donations of clothes and food for them. That’s why it’s a good thing you brought your own witness.”

  “What’s the family’s name?” Leora asked. “So we can pray for them?”

  “Brown, as I recall.”

  Lottie’s eyes riveted on the preacher as she took a step toward him. “Brown, you say … what about a first name?”

  “No idea,” he said and turned. “First things first, though. Let’s go to my office and work out the details, then you can be married.”

  Sam studied his bride, who’d gone pale. “Are you all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Leora said, grabbed Lottie by the arm and pulled her after the preacher.

  Lottie yanked her arm out of her grasp and stopped. “You don’t have to drag me.”

  Leora gave her a dagger of a glare, which got a raised eyebrow from Sam. What was this all about? “No, I don’t suppose I do,” Leora said. “I guess I want to make sure your mind isn’t distracted by anything.”

  Lottie pressed her lips together, obviously holding back some retort, but finally her face softened. She nodded to her sister and continued to follow the preacher to his office.

  Sam wasn’t sure what had caused the tension between the two, but was glad it had passed. Maybe any sort of talk about fires was painful for them. He’d ask her about it later. Right now, he wanted to get married.

  * * *

  “Are you sad you have no wedding dress?” Leora asked.

  Lottie fingered the fabric of her faded yellow outfit. “I hadn’t really thought about it. But then, how many mail-order brides actually get married in a wedding dress?”

  “I would assume some are able,” Leora said. “I wish I was one of them. You’re much more practical than I am.”

  They were in a small office off the church’s sanctuary that the preacher allowed brides to use to get ready for their weddings. “If I was able to have a dress, I certainly would,” Lottie told her. “Yes, I’m practical, but what girl doesn’t want to wear a beautiful dress on her wedding day?”

  Leora crossed the room and feigned interest in one of the small stained-glass windows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that important to you.”

  “Well, no sense worrying about it now. This dress has served me well enough and it will serve me today.”

  Leora went to her. “I think you’d look beautiful no matter what you wore.”

  “Thank you for that. I suppose that’s doubly true for brides whose grooms are madly in love with them. But I’ve only just met Sam, so he can hardly be in love with me, nor I him.” She paused and smiled. “Which makes it easier to get married in this dress.”

  Leora smiled as tears formed in her eyes. “So practical. Now do me a favor and stay that way.”

  Lottie raised both eyebrows at that.

  “A practical person would forget about Bob Brown – for one day at least – and enjoy her wedding day. I know what you’re thinking, and why you really wanted to be wed in Dover.”

  “I’m about to be married – I don’t have time to think about anything else.”

  “Hogwash. You’re trying to figure out a way to check into the fire that destroyed that family’s home last night. Lottie, just because their last name is Brown doesn’t mean they’re connected to our Mr. Brown.”

  “He’s not our Mr. Brown. He was our employer – and not a very good one either.”

  “That’s beside the point,” Leora said, leaning against a desk. “Now please, get married, have a wonderful trip west with your new husband and start your life with him. I can tell he�
�s a good man. I hope I fare half as well.”

  Lottie rubbed her arms as if cold. “You will, as will the rest of us”.

  “I hope so. But there are so many of us – what are the chances that we all get good men? Or that we all make it to our prospective grooms in one piece? I almost wish mine would come to fetch me.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Leora gave Lottie a tiny smile and went to open it. The preacher was on the other side. “You ready, ladies?”

  Leora glanced at Lottie who could only nod.

  “Good,” he said. “Let’s have a wedding!”

  Lottie took a deep breath. She was about to be married! She needed to clear her head of Bob Brown, fires, displaced workers, everything but the man waiting for her at the altar. She would marry Sam Cooke, say goodbye to her sister and roommates and be off on the journey of a lifetime. Well, at least her lifetime. She’d never traveled any further than she had today.

  She didn’t blame Leora for being nervous about her own upcoming journey. It was one thing to have a husband with you, another to do it alone. She pulled Leora into her arms for one last hug, and together they followed the preacher to the altar.

  When they reached it, Sam stood there, several white roses in his hand. “Where did you get those?” Lottie asked.

  “The preacher was kind enough to give these to me for you.” He handed her the flowers and smiled. “No bride should be married without a bouquet.”

  Lottie grinned as she took them. She didn’t know why the simple gesture made her so happy, but it did. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  He took her hands in his and faced her. “Under different circumstances, maybe we would have met in church or the park or maybe at a play. We’d have courted for months and months before I asked for your hand in marriage. You would come down that aisle dressed in the finest of gowns for your wedding day and …”

  Her eyes locked on his and his words held her as easily as his arms could. “And?” she prompted.

  He shook his head and smiled. “And I think I would be just as besotted as I am right now.” He chuckled. “I have a friend who says I’m a hopeless romantic, and perhaps I am. But why shouldn’t I be? It’s our wedding day – and even though we don’t know each other yet, I still think romance should have its way, don’t you?”

  Lottie was smiling, her mouth half-open. What woman wouldn’t be after a declaration like that? “Very well then, Mr. Cooke … er, Sam. Let’s get married.”

  Six

  Lottie couldn’t believe it! Her knees were knocking beneath her skirt and petticoat. Now she really wished she could afford the latest fashion – the extra layers of cloth would muffle the sound so Sam couldn’t hear it.

  If he did, however, he gave no indication. The preacher cast an accusing eye at her a few times while addressing Sam, but she wasn’t sure it was because he’d heard it, seeing as he wasn’t glaring at her knees.

  “I do,” Sam said firmly.

  Egads, it was her turn already? Why was her attention wandering? She was getting married, for crying out loud! But every time she tried to concentrate on the man next to her, her mind gravitated to the other women from the Brown Textile Mill, her roommates and friends. She almost felt guilty getting such a wonderful man.

  But was he that wonderful, or over the years would he begin to display the same sort of behavior Mr. Brown had? After all, Sam’s grandfather had once set the town mercantile on fire in a drunken rage. Would Sam be prone to such a thing? Had Mr. Brown been drinking? No, several of her fellow employees saw him come into the mill that day, then leave shortly before the fire broke out …

  “Miss Mitchell?”

  Lottie jumped. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry … forgive me.”

  The preacher straightened and sighed. “Do you take Sam Cooke to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  It couldn’t be! Were they that far along already? C’mon, Lottie old girl, she silently chastised, get a hold of yourself! She sneaked a peek at Leora who stood, grimacing in embarrassment.

  Lottie swallowed hard. “I do,” she finally said with an apologetic look. How could she have daydreamed through her own wedding? Was her mind so wrapped around the mill fire, her displaced friends and fellow employees that she –

  “– kiss the bride!”

  Lottie’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  Leora put her face in her hands. The preacher rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

  “He said that I may kiss you now,” Sam confirmed, sounding a little annoyed. “That is, if you’re agreeable …”

  “Oh heavens!” she said, alarmed. “I’m … that is … I’m sorry …”

  Sam didn’t let her finish. He took her by the shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her.

  Lottie’s knees gave out.

  He chuckled, his mouth against hers, and pulled her tighter to keep her upright. The kiss deepened.

  Lottie’s eyes opened, and only then did she realize she’d closed them. She caught a glimpse of Leora smiling with delight. She was aware that one of Sam’s hands was tangled in her hair.

  He lifted his lips from hers. “Have I got your attention now, Mrs. Cooke?” he asked.

  “This … has been a lot to take in,” she mumbled.

  “I’d say you’ve been taking in more than you need to. But you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  She pulled back to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Everything. Don’t you see? We’re married now. I just made a vow to love, honor and cherish you and I shall. You can stop worrying.”

  “Worry? Me? Whatever are you talking about?”

  Leora shook her head as she stepped away from them and whispered a few words to the preacher. Lottie watched her a moment, then turned back to Sam.

  He pulled her flush against him. “No more talk of the circumstances that brought you to this moment. I know you’re going to worry about your sister and the others, but they’ll see themselves through.”

  “Oh.” She gave him a sheepish look. “Is it that obvious?”

  “My dear, if it were any more so, I think you might explode. You hardly looked at me during our vows – and when you did, it was like your mind was elsewhere.”

  “Sam,” she said and put a hand to his cheek. The gesture was very intimate and, had they not just married, would have made her feel quite scandalous. “I’m sorry, but it’s not just having my head full of all these things. I’m … nervous.”

  His face broke into a wide grin. “Nervous? Is that all? Well, you needn’t be any longer – we’re husband and wife. There’s not much left to be nervous about except maybe … you know, tonight?”

  Lottie’s eyes felt as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. Good grief, she hadn’t given their wedding night a thought! She’d been too busy thinking how she might snoop after Mr. Brown while they were in Dover. She gulped at the thought.

  Sam leaned toward her ear and whispered, “I assure you, it’s something to look forward to, according to my brother and cousins.” He stood straight and looked at her. “Good heavens, you’re so pale. Is something wrong?”

  Lottie shook her head and tried to breathe. The last month must have taken more of a toll on her than she’d thought! She’d just gotten married, yet didn’t recall half of the ceremony! What else was this obsession of hers going to make her miss? “Forgive me?”

  Sam raised one curious eyebrow. “Whatever for?”

  “For not concentrating on the thing that’s most important right now?”

  “You mean us?”

  She nodded. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll be better a wife than I was a bride at the altar.”

  He kept one arm around her and steered her toward a pew. “Nerves will do that to a person. Think nothing of it.”

  “I wasn’t that nervous.”

  “I beg to differ. If I’m not mistaken, your knees were knocking together, you were so nervous. Tell me I’m right.”

  She shook he
r head. “I’m afraid you are.”

  “Ah, see? I’m getting to know you already. Think of what a week on a train together will do for us.”

  She smiled, and again suspected she’d married a very special man. He didn’t make fun of her nerves; he acknowledged her distraction during their vows yet wasn’t angry at her for it. Nor did he berate her over her concern for the other mill workers, but shared his understanding of the situation. She smiled again.

  But what of Mr. Brown? What are you going to do about him? Her mind screamed as her smile faded.

  “I think the preacher would like a word with us, my dear,” Sam said.

  Lottie looked over and saw the preacher standing near the church organ, a document in his hand. “Yes, of course. We need to sign the license.” Sam stood and pulled her up beside him. They took care of the business at hand, gave the preacher a little something extra for his trouble and were on their way.

  As they descended the church steps Leora stopped and turned to look at the building. “We were christened here.”

  “What?” Lottie said as she also turned. “How do you know?”

  “Mother had a certificate she kept in a box. I remember seeing the address.”

  Lottie studied their surroundings. She didn’t recall such an event, but they had both been young … “What box?”

  Leora shrugged. “Just a box. I found it once.”

  Lottie frowned. “While snooping, no doubt.” She put a hand on Sam’s arm. “She was always a curious child.”

  “Maybe so, but who does all the snooping now?” Leora headed down the remaining stairs, not bothering to look at Lottie or Sam. When she reached the street, she waited for them.

  Lottie sighed. “She’s angry,” she whispered.

  “At what?” Sam asked. “At us?”

  “No, at me – and she has every right to be. She told me yesterday if I wasn’t careful I’d miss my own wedding.”

  “How so?” he asked as he led her down the stairs to join Leora.

  “Wasn’t it obvious?” She said with a nervous laugh. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll try not to let myself get so out of hand again.”