by Joyce Alec
“What should we do, boy?” Timothy said. “I am concerned that I have made a terrible mistake.”
Charlie’s tail wagged, a dull thud echoing as it struck the door.
Timothy sighed, grabbed his hat, and opened the door.
Charlie took off outside into the morning light.
He wished his heart wasn’t so heavy.
Timothy stepped on something that crinkled beneath his feet. He looked and saw a letter.
Scooping to pick it up, he recognized the handwriting as Betty’s.
And he was even more surprised at the joy that filled his heart.
Timothy,
Your mother has invited me back to town, and I thought I might let you know ahead of time. I have greatly enjoyed the letters we have exchanged, and I am looking forward to seeing you once more. I hope that you will be patient with me, as I try to be a bit more open about myself in person.
He sighed, guilt washing over him in waves. Timothy had sent a reply to Betty before he received his first letter from Anna. Betty had written him once more, but Timothy had yet to respond to her and let her know that he was engaged.
Charlie returned and sat down in front of him expectantly.
Why had I been so impatient? Had I truly allowed my anger at his mother to cloud my judgment about Betty? he wondered.
No. Betty’s first impression had not been the greatest, and she herself had admitted it, he thought.
Somehow, her humility and ability to share her mistakes were charming and endearing, especially in comparison to this woman whom he had found through a newspaper.
He had such high hopes, and he had so desperately wanted to keep the ranch that he was giving in to his own selfish desires and dragging these poor women along.
“This is no time for wallowing,” Timothy told Charlie. “How could I have predicted how all of this would have happened?”
There was no way he could have. He was doing what he thought was right in order to keep the livelihood that he had built for himself. He knew that he couldn’t allow his mother’s vindictiveness to continue.
He meant to better himself.
He meant to make everything right.
He understood why choosing a wife from Matrimonial News could end in a poor match. How could you truly know a person before you met them? He wished that he hadn’t taken Mr. Carlisle’s advice when he was as desperate as he was.
Desperation was the root of his problems, and now he was desperate to end his engagement.
With a heavy heart, he made his way into town.
He found Anna in the sitting room with a book, a tea pot, and a half-finished teacup beside her, while Samantha worked in the kitchen.
“Phillip? Is that you?” Samantha called when Timothy stepped inside.
“No, it’s me,” he replied.
She peeked out of the kitchen. “Oh, good morning! It’s great to see you.”
He could hear the strain in her words and see the tiredness in her eyes.
He stepped into the living room. Anna hadn’t even looked up at him, even though she must have heard him come in.
“Um…” Timothy said, lingering near the door. “Hello, Anna.”
She looked up from her book for only a moment and then continued to read.
“Timothy. Lovely to see you.”
It certainly didn’t sound as if she thought it was lovely.
“Timothy, can I see you for a moment?” Samantha called.
Timothy looked at Anna, who completely ignored him. “Excuse me.”
She didn’t reply as he made his way from the room.
“I hope that she wasn’t entirely intolerable last night,” Timothy said somewhat spitefully. “She didn’t seem pleased to see me at all.”
Samantha sighed, and Timothy’s guilt grew.
“I am sorry, Samantha,” Timothy said. “I can’t imagine that you and your family had a very pleasant evening because of my decision.”
She shook her head. “It is quite all right,” she said, but he could see that she only meant it half-heartedly. “I can understand why you would have chosen her in some regards. She is a very intelligent woman. She simply believes herself to be far more intelligent than anyone else. She is also quite lovely, but she frowns so much that I fear she might have forgotten how to smile in the first place.”
Timothy leaned against the wall. “I believe that I thought the very same thing yesterday.”
“What’s that in your hand?” she asked.
Timothy looked down and realized that he still held on to Betty’s letter.
“Oh, it’s from the woman that Mother chose for me,” he said.
Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “Are you reconsidering?”
“I…” Timothy said. “I don’t know.”
Samantha appeared relieved. “To be honest, Phillip and I would not be upset if you were to send this woman home. I do not think she will be a good match for you.”
“I am starting to wonder this myself. I do think that I need to give her another chance, but…”
“Don’t waste your time with too many chances, Timothy. She will drain you. And she will push you into a corner and demand that you do what she wants. Do not cave. Keep your mind about you, and then make your decision.”
Timothy sighed.
“And may I give you just a little bit more advice?” Samantha asked.
“Anything,” he said.
“Remember that you will be spending every day for the rest of your life with this person. There will be good days and bad days. But if she is difficult on the good days, imagine how difficult the hard days will be.”
He swallowed nervously, frowning.
“Timothy?”
Anne’s voice rang through the house. It was as if she were calling for a servant.
“Do not keep the lady waiting,” Samantha said, returning to the vegetables that needed to be chopped.
He made his way back into the living room with a heavy heart.
She had put her book down, and she was sitting up straight in her chair expectantly.
They stared at each other for a moment before she gestured to the chair beside her.
“Sit.”
He grit his teeth, knowing she was giving him commands like a dog.
He obliged.
She turned her pretty face to him, but her eyes were piercing and intent.
“I believe it is time that we discuss the terms of our engagement,” she began, lifting her teacup off of the tray and adding a small lump of sugar to it. “We should spend two or three more days in conversation, and then this weekend, we should go to the minister and schedule the wedding. Three days from then should be fine.”
Timothy listened to her, but as she spoke, his heart constricted. He was not pleased. He was filled with dread at the idea.
“It seems you have planned everything,” Timothy replied dryly.
“Well, of course,” she replied, sipping her tea through pursed lips.
“It seems awfully quick though, doesn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes before lowering her cup. “I have heard that most couples marry immediately upon meeting after arranging a marriage through letters.”
“Is that true?” Timothy asked.
“In all the stories I have heard, yes,” she replied sharply. “Why would you doubt me?”
“I didn’t doubt you,” Timothy replied. “It just seems…”
“What? Forward? Sudden?” she said, her brows furrowing together. “Of course, it is. That is the very point of all of this, isn’t it? To be married?”
“It seems far too much like business,” Timothy told her. “This is marriage we are talking about.”
“What did you expect?” she asked, glaring at him. “Sunshine and sweet words of love? No. Those sorts of marriages are rare. It is better to anticipate an agreement than any sort of affection.”
Timothy frowned. “This is the first I am hearing of all of this…”
“I was
perfectly clear in my advertisement,” she said. “I wanted a man with a strong spirit. This behavior is what I would expect from a weak man.”
“I am not a weak man,” Timothy replied.
“I have yet to see proof to the contrary,” she said.
Timothy rose from his seat.
“Where are you going?” she snapped.
“I need some time to think,” he said, giving her a leveling look. “I thought I told you that sometimes I needed some time alone.”
She glared at him. “Are you mocking me?”
“Not at all,” he said. “I am simply telling you what is in my heart. And one other thing...” He made sure that she was giving him her full attention. “This decision is not yours alone to make. I have just as much of a say in this. Perhaps more. Our marriage would be my responsibility. And for now, I need some time to decide if this match is going to be the right match for me.”
She was like a bird whose feathers had been ruffled. She rose, too, and she puffed up her chest, her eyes narrow slits.
“If…if I am the right match for you?”
“That is exactly what I said.”
She was far more like a banshee than the beautiful woman in the photograph he had received.
“Any man would be lucky to have me,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. Her finger that she pointed at his face trembled with anger. “I am the ideal woman! I am beautiful! I am proper! I am a lady!”
“There is more to life than what is on the outside,” Timothy said. “And I am not certain that our marriage would be a happy one.”
“You…what?” she snarled. “Why wouldn’t you be happy being married to me? Do not speak to your future wife this way!”
“And this is how a lady speaks to the man that she wants to marry?” he replied. “You have been nothing but unkind, ungrateful, and disrespectful since you arrived. You have dishonored me in front of my family! You have been rude about my town, my belongings, and even my dog, who is my dearest friend! And you still expect me to want to marry you?”
She seethed, breathing heavily out of her nostrils as she stared into his face. Blotches of deep red rose to her cheeks, and her hands balled into fists.
“I do not have to stand for this!” she said. “I can choose to leave, you know!”
Feeling defeated, Timothy shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you here in the first place? It’s obvious you’re used to a more luxurious lifestyle. You had to know that moving to a ranch in Texas wouldn’t be a fancy life for you.”
Narrowing her eyes, Anna spoke harshly. “My father wanted me to marry someone I didn’t like. I wanted to make a choice for myself.”
Her words stung. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing? Was he really going to marry a woman just to defy his mother? He could never make this woman happy, and he could never make her happy.
“This is never going to work out between us,” Timothy said as kindly as he could, in a hushed whisper.
“Now you’re trying to make decisions for me, too. It seems as if all men want to make choices for me that I should be making.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you chose to marry me or not,” Timothy replied. “Because I am going to kindly ask you to leave. Of course, I will pay for your train ride home. After all, I am a gentleman.”
His words were met with utter silence.
Anna’s mouth gaped at him. Some of her hair had fallen from her bonnet in her rage.
And suddenly, she burst into tears.
Timothy’s anger shattered, and a great shame filled him.
“Oh…Anna. I am sorry. I let my anger get the better of me. I—”
“You wretched man!” she hollered from between her hands, which she had clasped over her face. “How dare you! How dare you humiliate me in such a way! I am but a simple woman! All I wished was to find a place to belong! And in your wicked selfishness, you are throwing me out on the street!”
Samantha had appeared, drying her hands on her apron.
Timothy gave her a pleading look.
Samantha nodded. She must have overheard their conversation.
“Anna, you cannot tell me that you truly think that either of us would make each other happy?” Timothy asked. “You are a very…particular woman. With very particular wants. And…I do not think that I could ever be the man to meet the expectations that you have for a husband.”
Anna’s crying had faded to soft sniffling.
Timothy felt terrible. He didn’t think that it was possible for a woman to be so outwardly cruel, but if they were fighting already, before they were even married, how much worse would it get?
Samantha was right. He wouldn’t be able to live with Anna every day through all of the ups and downs in a marriage.
“Anna, do you really think that you would be happy with me? Or are you just frustrated that you are going to have to start over?”
She sniffled, but she didn’t reply right away.
“Because I will not be upset if you wouldn’t be happy with me. I would understand.”
“I do not want to go home and face everyone again. My father told me this was a mistake and tried to stop me,” she admitted.
He could understand.
“Perhaps you will find everything that you have been looking for in a spouse closer to home,” Timothy said, wishing that he could end the conversation.
As soon as he said it, his thoughts fled to Betty…
Perhaps you will find everything that you have been looking for in a spouse closer to home.
She sighed heavily, her breath shaky.
“I suppose you are right.”
“Like I said, I will pay for everything,” Timothy said. “Your train ticket, whatever you need.”
Anna was packed and ready to head to the train station the very next day. Timothy could see the joy on Samantha’s face at the prospect of Anna leaving, and he had felt a weight lift as well.
He took her to the station, and they lingered near the door beside the ticket booth.
“Here,” Timothy said, holding out the photograph that she had sent to him. “I suppose you should keep this. You could send it to the man that you are meant to marry.”
She took it, her bottom lip trembling.
“I am sorry for an inconvenience I might have caused,” she said.
Hearing that was enough for him.
“Think nothing of it.”
He watched as she boarded the train. She waved to him from the window of the train, and he felt no sense of loss as the train disappeared down the track.
6
The anticipation of Betty’s arrival helped him to quickly recover from the incident with Anna. She hadn’t even been in town for three full days before she was gone again.
He was glad that it had not progressed any further. He was certain that his heart had never been so light, knowing that she was gone and out of his life.
The next hurdle he must surpass was the fact that his mother still had every intention of taking the farm from him. He also was concerned that his feelings for Betty would be the same as the first time he met her.
In order to reassure himself, he read the letters that she sent him again.
He was conflicted. Anna was so very different from the woman that he had seen in her letters. Betty, also, was different from the woman he had met in person. Her letters made her out to be a very sweet, gentle woman. In person, however…she was a nervous mess, incapable of speaking to him.
He sighed heavily and thought, Will she be any different? Will things work out?
The only way he was going to find out was by going to see her again.
He had a plan in his mind for how to make the best choice. He had gone over it at least a dozen times the morning he was meant to go visit his mother and Betty.
Charlie accompanied him this time, though he knew that his mother would not be happy about it. She never cared much for the dog, but for some reason, Charlie absolutely adored her.
He arrived and
made small talk with his mother before walking into the kitchen where Betty was hard at work.
She was kneading some bread, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She had flour all over her apron, and some on the very end of her nose.
Everything smelled wonderful. Meat roasted in the oven, and she had chopped up some fresh spring onions and garlic and was kneading it into the dough.
“Hello, Betty,” he said.
She nearly dropped the dough in her hands as she looked up at him, surprised to see him there.
“Oh,” she said, bowing her head. “H-Hello, Timothy.”
He smiled.
She was not so mousy as he remembered her to be. Her long, dark hair was tied in a braid, and her grey eyes had little flecks of blue in them. Her face was pale, but her skin was smooth and supple.
“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I am glad that you arrived safe and sound.”
She smiled ever so slightly, and he found himself wanting to see her smile more. He felt as if he was seeing her true self when she smiled, the self that she had revealed to him in her letters.
“I…um,” she said, nearly knocking a bowl over as she laid the bread dough inside to allow it to rest. “I…how are you?”
Timothy smiled. “I am quite well. And you?”
“Fine, fine,” she replied, nodding her head.
“You know, you can relax,” he said gently. Far more gently than he had said it the first time. “I would love the opportunity to get to know you, so just be yourself. I quite liked the person you revealed yourself to be in your letters.”
She nodded, and as quickly as her face had paled, it flushed scarlet.
“I see that Mother has got you working in the kitchen again already,” he said.
“I did nothing of the sort,” his mother’s voice came from his shoulder.
He turned to look at her.
“She was bound and determined to come in here and prove to you that she is more than capable of preparing a meal that doesn’t end up on the floor, or burned, or mixed with sugar instead of salt.”
Betty was shying away.
“You didn’t have to prove anything,” Timothy said. “I know how frightening it can be to meet a new person. I understand it perfectly.”
