Mail-Order Brides of the West: Bertha: A Montana Sky Novella (Montana Sky Series)

by Debra Holland

  Seth shook his head. “Looks like you brought just as many boxes and trunks as my wife did.”

  Bertha had heard all about Trudy traveling with most of the contents of her father’s house. “I left my piano at home,” she said, deadpan.

  Seth slanted her a glance, apparently surprised by her humor, and grinned. “Good thing you did. Friend of my wife or not, there’s no way I’m hauling a piano to Morgan’s Crossing. If Michael Morgan wants a piano in his mining town, he’ll have to get it there on his own.”

  “Knowing Prudence,” Trudy said tartly, “I suspect, he’ll be doing so before too long.”

  Bertha shot Trudy a concerned glance.

  Trudy raised her hand. “I should stop myself. In two days, we’ll be in Morgan’s Crossing, and I can see this new Prudence for myself. And her husband, of course, who’s supposedly also a more pleasant man than we first thought. Until then, I have a difficult time believing Darcy and Lina that Prudence has changed, and even they have doubts.”

  So do I?

  Trudy slanted Bertha a glance. “Are you sure about this decision to work in Morgan’s Crossing? We have no shortage of available men in Sweetwater Springs. I think we could find you a husband in no time.”

  “Your suggestion holds appeal.” If Prudence hadn’t really changed, then Bertha knew she’d be no match for the woman on a rampage. But she didn’t want to take the easy way out—at least, not yet. “Can I hold your offer in reserve? I really want to try this. I think I’ll be good at managing a boardinghouse and cooking for the miners.”

  “Then you shall. But know that you have a refuge here if need be.”

  Seth, who stood watching Bertha’s possessions being unloaded, let out an audible sigh of relief. “Between El Davis’s wagon and mine, everything should fit.” He waved toward a buckboard wagon parked by the stairs. “That’s ours. With the flurry of telegrams going back and forth between Morgan’s Crossing, St. Louis, and, Sweetwater Springs, I had a pretty good idea you’d be bringing along supplies for the boardinghouse.”

  Trudy laughed. “Poor Seth,” she said to Bertha. “I arrived with so much and without giving him notice, either. I don’t know what I was thinking. But he managed everything.”

  “That’s not how I remember it,” he muttered.

  Trudy continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And Seth helped Jonah organize Lina’s arrival, too,” she said, sounding proud.

  Although Seth looked pleased by his wife’s praise, he didn’t respond, keeping his eyes on Bertha. “We’ll take your trunks with us, and the teamster can transport the rest directly to the boardinghouse. He’s a half a day or so behind us, on his way here from Morgan’s Crossing. Ever since her arrival, Prudence has kept him busy fulfilling all her shopping orders.”

  “So just leave everything?” Bertha didn’t like the idea. The Morgans had entrusted her with the funds for those supplies. “What if they are stolen?”

  Seth’s smile was kind. “This town isn’t like St. Louis. Everything will be just fine. The stationmaster will keep an eye on your crates.” He glanced down the street. “There’s the stableman from the livery now. He’s helping out.”

  Bertha turned to see a man in dungarees walking their way.

  Seth hefted the basket and the portmanteau. “I’ll put these in the wagon. The livery stableman will help me load your trunks and move the crates inside the station.”

  Trudy tugged Bertha toward the wagon. “Let me tell you the plan for tonight. I’m sure you’re wishing for a bath.”

  Ja. Bertha gave a decisive nod.

  The women walked down the steps to the street and around to one side of the wagon.

  “At first the Walkers and the Barretts wanted to be here to meet you. Then Darcy realized you’d be overwhelmed by our menfolk, and that you’d feel more comfortable meeting them one at a time.”

  Bertha flushed with embarrassment that her friends felt they must accommodate her shyness. “No need to go to such trouble,” she rushed out the words.

  “No trouble at all.” Trudy patted Bertha’s arm. “Actually, Darcy’s plan works just fine. She and Lina live along a road that leads to Morgan’s Crossing. It’s not the main route, but no sense in them driving all the way here and then backtracking.”

  “Oh.” Bertha felt better that she hadn’t put anyone out.

  “First we’ll drive to Gid and Darcy’s. She wants you to see her new house. They have the most divine outdoor tub by a hot spring and stream, which will feel so good to soak in. I remember how much I longed for a bath when I first arrived here. My introduction to Seth’s tiny tin tub was quite a shock.” She made a circle with her arms and grinned. “Not much bigger than this.”

  “Outdoors?” Bertha choked out. Oh, no. I’m not bathing outside. But I can’t fit in a tub the size of Trudy’s, either. She wondered if she’d have to resign herself to sponge baths from now on.

  Trudy’s smile showed understanding. “The outdoor tub is very private. I’ve even used it. After their house burned down, Seth and I went as often as we could to help them rebuild. Darcy did insist on a bathroom inside the new house, but that isn’t finished yet, so they are using an outhouse and the tub Gid made out of a boulder in the stream.”

  Bertha still wasn’t sure about bathing in such a public manner. “In her letters, Darcy praised her husband’s creativity. I’m looking forward to seeing his work,” she said tactfully, easing away from the subject of outdoor baths.

  Seth joined them, motioning toward the wagon seat, which was padded with several blankets.

  Trudy set her hand in his, picked up her skirt with the other, and gracefully transitioned to the high seat. She scooted to the middle and smoothed her dress.

  Bertha eyed the height of the seat and reached up to fiddle with her watch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden in a wagon. Maybe never. She was used to the streetcars or walking, and her father’s surrey wasn’t so high. She tensed, imagining how ridiculous she’d look, awkwardly launching herself into the seat. Will there even be enough room for the three of us on that bench?

  Seth extended a hand.

  Bertha took a deep breath. There’s no avoiding this. She shot an apologetic look at Seth and lifted her chin in Trudy’s direction. “I’m not accustomed to… I mean, I….” She couldn’t tell him she might be too heavy.

  Trudy leaned toward Bertha. “Allow Seth to help you.”

  Her friend’s compassionate tone only served to further embarrass Bertha. She placed her hand in Seth’s and lifted her foot to the step. Feeling huge and ungainly, she hefted herself up. For a moment she wobbled, feeling Seth brace himself to keep her upright. She had a horrifying vision of falling on the man and squashing him like a bug. Trudy will never forgive me if I kill off her husband.

  With one hand gripping the far edge of the seat, Trudy anchored herself. She reached out. “Grab on,” she ordered.

  Bertha grasped her friend’s hand. With Trudy holding her steady, and Seth pushing from behind, she was able to heave herself into the seat. She leaned against the back, shaking and panting, more from shame than exertion.

  “There, we did it,” Trudy said in a cheerful tone.

  She’s obviously trying to make me feel better. “And we’ll have to do it again…and again.” Bertha said glumly, waving her hand to cool her flushed cheeks. “I think I’ll just live up here.”

  “I promise it will get easier.” Trudy spoke as if she meant more than climbing up on a wagon bench. “Just wait. You’ll soon catch your rhythm.”

  Bertha wasn’t convinced.

  “Maybe next you can learn to ride a horse.”

  “Oh, no.” I’ll probably hurt the poor creature. Bertha could only imagine the figure of fun she’d make, trying to mount one. At least the wagon hadn’t moved when I climbed on. Horses don’t have brakes. As a child, she’d had enough teasing about her weight from other children at school and sometimes even her siblings. She wasn’t about to expose herself to ri
dicule as an adult.

  Seth came around to the other side, climbed up, untied the reins, and released the brake. He made a clicking sound and flicked the reins. The team started to move.

  “Too bad Lina and Jonah aren’t coming for dinner,” Trudy said. “They’ve taken Adam to visit his mother’s family and to find out if the Indians think this will be a bad winter like we warned you it might be. But they will meet up with us in Morgan’s Crossing.”

  Relieved to no longer be the topic of conversation, Bertha clasped her hands in front of her. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you all. In one of her telegrams, Prudence mentioned a teamster…what are those men called? Oh, yes, a mule skinner would drive me to Morgan’s Crossing.” She shuddered at the thought. “Thank you for saving me from that.”

  Seth leaned forward. “It wouldn’t have been so bad. El Davis is a good man. Harmless and as shy as you are. He doesn’t even frequent the saloon.”

  “Tonight, we’ll sleep at Gid and Darcy’s,” Trudy said, changing the subject. “They have a guest room on the ground floor, which will hopefully be a nursery someday. The house has a two-story tower, and they have a bed in the upstairs room. One whole wall in the tower room is bookcases. And there’s another bookcase downstairs.”

  “That sounds perfect for Darcy.”

  “Now that her half-brother Holden is in jail and she has possession of her fortune, Darcy’s shipped all her books from back east.” Trudy’s voice gained a wry edge. “She sent orders to have copies replaced in the library of her home in New York for when she visits. They plan to do so in late spring or summer.”

  One of the wagon wheels hit a rut, causing Bertha’s body to jiggle. After a sideways glance to see if anyone noticed, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  They passed a faded two-story green building.

  Bertha gave the place a curious glance, only to realize it was a saloon. Through the big glass window, she could see men lean forward and stare at her. She looked away, only to see a petite woman and her half-grown son watching her from across the street.

  She lowered her chin, not liking to feel inquisitive eyes on her. In busy St. Louis, she didn’t stand out as much. When walking to church or to the market, people seldom gave her a second glance. But here, apparently, everyone could see she was a newcomer, and, thus, a curious sight.

  She decided to keep her eyes straight ahead and concentrate on the conversation with Trudy. The decision wasn’t difficult, for her friend began filling her in on the details of her life since she’d arrived in Sweetwater Springs—and she had plenty to tell.

  Soon Bertha felt as comfortable with Trudy as with one of her sisters, and her friend was even easier to converse with. She listened to everything Bertha said without interrupting and drew her out, encouraging her expand when she spoke in short sentences. Although, the pair hadn’t shared much with each other at the agency, now they talked and talked and talked on their way out of town, through open land, and along a forest road.

  The hours of the drive passed more quickly and pleasantly than Bertha could have imagined, although her bottom started to numb. Finally, Seth drew up in front of a bench that had wooden boxes with tight covers on either side, all sheltered by a shingled peaked roof. The area to the left of the bench was cleared of trees, making it easier for a wagon to turn.

  Trudy smiled at Bertha. “Only another fifteen minutes.”

  Gott sei dank! She couldn’t wait to get off the hard wagon bench, even if it meant braving the perilous journey to the ground.

  The thick forest, already showing hints of fall color, closed in on them, cutting off the sky. To Bertha the woods evoked a feeling of mystery rather than ominousness.

  With a wave of her hand, Trudy gestured ahead of them. “This used to be only a path. But when Gid had to rebuild, he needed a road on which to haul lumber and building materials, and so people arriving in wagons to help could drive close to the house. So we widened it,” she said in a proprietary tone, as if she, herself, had wielded an axe.

  Seth slowed the team to edge through a trellis made of two trees, their branches intertwined with morning glory vines. A hummingbird darted away from the solitary blue trumpet flower, still valiantly blooming. The wagon wheels barely cleared each trunk by a couple of inches.

  The forest gave way to an opening. The horses’ hooves clopped on flagstone pavers, and Bertha had her first sight of Gideon and Darcy’s house.

  The one-story home was built of squared-off logs. Diamond paned windows, framed by green shutters, glinted in the sunshine. An arched green door was canted open. A square tower hugged one side. Stacked stone flowerbeds, empty of plants, surrounded the house.

  Clasping her hands together, Bertha let out a happy sigh. “As charming as I’d pictured—a fairy-tale cottage, indeed. I’m sure in the spring and summer, with colorful flowers blooming in the planters and window boxes, the place will be enchanting.”

  Seth pulled up in front and set the brake.

  “I didn’t have a chance to see Gid’s original house.” Trudy leaned forward to point at wooden toadstools with red tops and white bases sprouting in a flowerbed. “So many of Gid’s whimsical creations burned in the fire. You’d think with all else he’s had to do, those would be at the bottom of his list to replace. But he and Darcy refused to let her half-brother destroy the magic. Although Gid’s only had time to make a few, they certainly are precious.”

  Bertha spotted a carved fairy, her wings the colors of a monarch butterfly, perched on a miniature swing that hung from a tree branch. The sighting reminded her of the German folktales she’d heard all her life, of the enchanted Black Forest, of the Erdmanlein in her trunk—the gnome, a farewell present from her Opa, intended to bring her good luck. “I think Gid and Darcy made the right decision to preserve the magic,” she said, feeling certain. The rest will come in time.” I hope I’ll still live in the area and can come see what the place will look like finished.

  Darcy thrust open the door and hurried outside, wearing the biggest smile Bertha had ever seen on her face. She was as thin as ever, with her brown hair haphazardly piled on top of her head, and she wore an apron over her gray dress. “Bertha!” she called and waved, rushing over to the wagon.

  Bertha had to smile. Growing up in a wealthy family with plenty of servants, Darcy had never worn an apron until living at the bridal agency. Unlike most women, who took theirs off as a matter of course when company arrived, in her excitement, she probably hadn’t even realized the apron was still tied around her waist.

  “Finally,” Darcy called.

  Bertha wanted to climb down from the wagon and greet her, but she didn’t dare do so without Seth’s help.

  Darcy held up a hand to Bertha. “I can’t believe you’re actually here! I’ve been on the watch for the last hour. Welcome to my home.”

  Smiling, Bertha clasped Darcy’s hand and squeezed. “I can’t believe it either.”

  Seth tied off the reins. “Now you just sit tight, Bertha, and let me come around and help you down.”

  The command was entirely unneeded.

  Darcy released Bertha and stepped back.

  “Now, Bertha,” Seth said in an instructional tone, taking her hand. “As you step down, bend your knees a bit when you land.”

  She sent up a prayer for balance and grace. The good Lord must have heard her, for climbing off the wagon wasn’t nearly as difficult as she’d feared. Once her feet hit the ground, Bertha let out a sigh of relief and turned to Darcy, who promptly hugged her.

  “There, there, now,” Bertha exclaimed in surprise as she returned the embrace. For all her kindness, the upper-class woman had always had an air of reserve. She patted Darcy’s back. I’m certainly getting my fill of hugs today.

  Darcy straightened. She smiled up at Trudy, being helped down by Seth, and then looked back at Bertha. “Who would have thought we’d all end up in Montana Territory?”

  Seth tilted his head toward a building off to the side. Like the main
house, the walls were squared-off logs with green shutters on either side of the windows. “I’ll bet Gid’s in his workshop. I’ll go haul him out to help me unload and see to the horses.”

  “Thank you, dear Seth.” Darcy linked elbows with Bertha and turned her to face the house. “What do you think?”

  “I think your cottage belongs in der Schwarzwald, the enchanted Black Forest,” Bertha translated as she gazed at the home.

  Trudy hooked her elbow around Bertha’s other arm. “You’re so right.”

  Standing linked with her two friends gave Bertha a feeling of camaraderie such as she’d never before experienced. “Hansel and Gretel must be just around the corner.”

  Darcy laughed. “As long as I’m not the wicked witch who intends to eat them.”

  “Oh, no. You’re a good witch,” Bertha said earnestly. “Or maybe a fairy godmother.”

  “The people of Sweetwater Springs and its environs are what’s magical. As plain and nondescript as the town appears, the inhabitants….” Darcy said with a faraway gaze, as if looking back. “After the fire, people—most of them strangers to us—came from all over to help us rebuild. We were able to move into the house after only three weeks.”

  Bertha shivered. “I can’t imagine the horror, your lives in danger, your home burning….”

  “I still have nightmares,” Darcy said in a grim tone. “Gideon and I came so close to dying. Had I been alone, my half-brother would have killed me.”

  Bertha glanced up to see fear in her friend’s eyes. Nothing, not even Prudence at her worst, had shaken Darcy’s composure. She gave their joined arms a shake. “You must not think such thoughts. Dwelling on a past that didn’t occur cannot be healthy. You must focus on what is real. You and your husband are well. You have experienced a community coming together to help you. Say a prayer of gratitude to Gott im Himmel.” The power of her conviction, her need to offer support, had made her slip into speaking German.

  “Wise words, Bertha,” Trudy said and gave her arm a nudge.