by Vivi Holt
“No, I don’t. I’ll watch you play,” said Michael, following him reluctantly. He stood back from the card table, and leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles and tipping his black hat back from his forehead.
Tony, Rodney, and Callum all joined in the card game, and were soon making money. Michael watched with interest for a while, but before long became bored with the game and turned to scan the rest of the room. A commotion on the other side of the saloon caught his attention. A young, blonde woman was attempting to sing along with the piano and one of the patrons was grabbing at her petticoats, pulling her into his lap. She slapped his hands away good naturedly a few times, but that only made him more persistent. She stopped singing and pushed him hard, soliciting catcalls and jeers from around room. The man, obviously embarrassed, stood to his feet, his face reddening. He strode to the woman, and grabbed her hard on the arm, pulling her along after him. He was attempting to take her out the back door of the saloon, but she fought him all the way.
Michael stood up straight, watching the exchange with growing anger. He strode across the room, and flicked the man in the back of the head with his fingers.
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” he growled.
The man turned around, a look of surprise on his face, which soon changed to fury.
“This ain’t none of your business fella.”
The man pushed out his chest and stretched himself up as tall as he could reach.
“Well, when you bother a lady like that it becomes my business,” replied Michael, his hands poised beside his hips ready to react to the man’s predictable attack.
Michael felt the entire room go still. The piano music stopped as the pianist turned to watch them. Soon all eyes in the saloon were trained on the two men.
“She ain’t no lady,” the man laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, since you aren’t a gentleman, I could hardly expect you to know the difference,” said Michael. A few people who were standing at the bar close to the man, moved away from him, and out of the corner of his eye Michael saw the barman grab a thick stick from behind the bar, ready to join the fray.
“Michael?” Tony had noticed what was happening, and jumped up from the card table, taking a step toward him.
Just then, the man swung at Michael. He ducked, and the punch sailed straight over his head. He jabbed a quick one-two into the man’s flabby stomach, and sent him in a heap to the floor. As Michael turned to leave, two other men ran at him and were soon on top of him. A few of their flailing blows found their mark, but Michael fought them off without too much trouble. By now, the lady he had been defending had fled from the room, and several of the patrons were on their way out the door as well. Tony jumped into the fray, joining Michael as the entire saloon collapsed into an all-out brawl.
The barman tapped Michael on the shoulder, and brandished his stick with a frown. Michael nodded and made his way toward the door, intent on a quick exit with Tony right behind him. They stumbled through the doorway, and ran down the avenue, listening as the sounds of the brawl continued without them.
Puffing hard, they stopped on Main Street. Michael leaned against a wall, and rubbed his hands across his forehead, pulling his hat down low. Tony bent forward at the waist, resting his hands on his knees and breathing hard.
“What the heck, Michael?” he asked between gaps.
Michael chuckled, and they both burst into a fit of laughter. When they finally regained their breath, Michael said.
“I told you not to take me to a saloon, didn’t I?”
“Yes, I guess you did. But why can’t you just enjoy yourself like everyone else?”
“He was getting rough with a lady.” Just thinking about it again brought a fresh frown to his face.
“So what? You don’t know her.”
“I don’t have to know her. I just can’t stand by and watch it happening without doing something about it. You should know this about me by now.”
“You’re right. I should have known better. No more saloons for you.”
“Thank you. I just don’t have the stomach for them anyway. Give me an open field or a rugged mountain side, or a crystal clear creek any day of the week over a smoky, rodent-infested saloon.”
“But that’s where the women are. Aren’t you at least interested in meeting women?”
“No, not in a place like that. I want a wife, and I’m hardly going to find one at the Rusty Nail, am I?”
“You’ll not find one in Austin, and that’s a fact,” Tony stood to his feet and began to make his way homeward.
“You might be right about that,” said Michael with a strange look on his face.
Chapter Four
Ramona
“Look at this!” said Elizabeth, waving her hand at Ramona to beckon her back.
Ramona was walking down the stone steps of the Catholic Church that Elizabeth and her parents attended each Sunday morning for mass. Elizabeth had paused at the top of the stairs to point at something on the bulletin board just outside the church doors. A cream colored flyer flapped in the light breeze that came sailing through the city off the waters of the nearby bay. Ramona was distracted. She knew that Elizabeth’s parents wouldn’t allow her to stay in the apartment for much longer. She sighed loudly as she spun about on the stairs to face Elizabeth.
“What is it?”
“It’s a flyer for Mail Order Brides. It says here that men out on the frontier want women from New York to marry, Ramona. Why, this could be just the thing for you!”
Ramona screwed up her nose and sniffed.
“Really Lizzie,” Ramona said. “Do you really think that I’d be a Mail Order Bride and marry some man I’ve never met in a dusty town in some uncivilized western settlement? How would I ever get to Broadway if I did that? No thank you. Getting married is the last thing on my mind. Once you’re married, you’re never your own person again. My mother always told me that. She said, ‘Ramona, the moment you marry, your life is not your own,’ and she’d sigh like it had been a big mistake to give up her freedom. Well, not me. I’m going to follow my dreams, not get married and have babies. You know I want to go to Texas to find Mother, and then perform on Broadway. How would getting married help me do either of those two things?”
Elizabeth closed her mouth tightly, and made her way down the stairs, careful to avoid slipping on the icy ones, meeting Ramona halfway down. Ramona glared at her, then turned to follow her home. It was all well and good for Elizabeth to suggest marrying a stranger in some distant and lawless town when she had her handsome and successful lawyer here in New York to marry. It wouldn’t be Elizabeth having to go traipsing across the country to marry someone who could quite possibly be old and hideously ugly, and possibly even a criminal. Well, Ramona wasn’t such a beggar that she had to do it either, and she wasn’t about to turn her life upside down just because she happened to be running low on money and luck. She had dreams, and she was going to make them happen, somehow.
Trust in me.
Ramona started, a warm tingle going up and down her spine.
Trust in me.
Ramona’s eyes filled with tears, as she hurried after Elizabeth down the frosty cobblestone avenue toward their apartment.
I trust you God. I just don’t know what to do, or where to turn. The only thing I have to hold onto are my dreams. I don’t want to let go of them because without them I have nothing and no one. But I’ll trust in you.
***
Back at home Ramona was folding her dresses and packing them into her travelling trunk. Elizabeth was sitting on the bed watching her and chewing on a fingernail, her toe tapping nervously on the timber floor.
“Mail order brides are so old fashioned! I’m surprised those agencies even still operate!” Ramona pursed her lips, and nodded emphatically to make her point. “Though I suppose out West things are a bit different.”
Elizabeth took her finger out of her mouth and smiled grimly.
“Yes, things won’t be quite so modern out west. It will take you a while to get used to life on the frontier.”
Ramona whirled around to face her.
“You’re not seriously suggesting I go through with this, are you?” Ramona put her hands on her hips and scowled at Elizabeth. “Why, Lizzie, can you imagine me tied to a man’s arm? The arm of a man I’ve never even met? A man who can’t find a wife where he lives, so he must be old, ugly and mean. Why, I’d sooner collapse here on the spot. No man is going to tell me how to live or what to do. Do you think a husband would let me sing and dance on the stage? Of course not. He’d want me to stay home and raise babies, that’s what, and my dreams would be dead. Dead!”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Ramona’s dramatic speech. She wasn’t taken in by Ramona’s hysterics this time. “Ramona,” she said sternly. “You need to think sensibly about this. You can’t stay here forever. Mama and Papa won’t allow it. And how else are you going to support yourself?”
Ramona’s mouth fell open, stunned by Elizabeth’s lack of confidence in her abilities.
“Why, I’ll sing, I’ll dance.”
“Ramona! Be realistic, please. This is serious.”
Ramona stood up and flounced across the room to fetch her dancing gowns to pack into the top of the trunk. Deep down, she knew that Elizabeth was right, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it now. She knew that she needed to find a solution to her predicament, and fast. But the thought of marrying a stranger in some far off frontier town made her quake with fright. She’d never been anywhere on her own, and she’d never travelled outside of New York before. So, the idea of journeying to the other side of the country on her own to meet, marry, and live with a stranger filled her with dread.
“I don’t want talk about it any longer Elizabeth May. And,” Ramona’s voice broke as tears filled her eyes. “I can’t bear the thought of leaving you – my only friend in this whole wide world. Please don’t make me go.”
Elizabeth ran to her friend and flung her arms around Ramona’s neck, stroking her back gently.
“Oh Ramona, my dear, I don’t want you to leave either. But what will you do?”
“I don’t know. But I do know this, God will provide a way forward. I just have to trust Him.”
***
The following day, Ramona woke early and lay still in her bed without moving. She stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling above her head and thought long and hard about the future. What was she going to do? She had pounded the pavement looking for employment ever since the Dresdens had given her notice, but there was none to be had. And she knew that in a few days’ time, she would be homeless. Christmas had come and gone, and now a bleak and icy January was well underway. She’d already stayed well past her welcome at Elizabeth’s place. It was time for Ramona to grow up and make some decisions about where her life was headed. It was time for her to do something, to take back the life that she had lost and to go after what she wanted.
When Elizabeth awoke, Ramona was already up and dressed. Her hair was combed back into a tight bun, and her face shone from being scrubbed clean.
“What is it?” asked Elizabeth, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in bed.
“I’m going to do it,” said Ramona.
“Do what?” asked Elizabeth, yawning widely.
“Get married. I’m going to be a Mail Order Bride.”
“What?” Elizabeth was suddenly wide awake, and threw the covers back, leaping to her feet.
“Yes. I’m getting married. I bet that Mail Order Bride service has men down there in Austin. I’m going to get one of those men to pay for me to travel to Austin, and then I’m going to find Mother.”
“Ramona! You wouldn’t. They would be expecting you to marry them. You can’t lie, and that’s what it would be. It would be dishonest to have them pay your way to Austin only to leave them at the altar to go and find your mother. It just wouldn’t be right.”
Elizabeth’s face flushed red, and she stamped one foot in indignation as she spoke.
“I don’t care Elizabeth. I have to do something, and I’ve decided that this is it. God has provided a way for me to get to Texas to find Mother, and I’m going to take it. I know it’s dishonest, and I don’t want to lie or hurt anyone, I really don’t. I promise you – if there were some other way to get to Austin, I’d do it. But I can’t think of any other way. Can you?”
Elizabeth slumped back onto the bed and shook her head slowly, “No, I can’t.”
“So you see – I have to do it. I’m sure the man who I’m to marry will get over it quickly and find himself someone else to marry. He isn’t in the same kind of predicament that I am. He’s likely to be settled, and have a steady income, or he wouldn’t be looking for a wife and family. He’ll be disappointed of course, but he’ll soon move on and find someone else. And I will have found Mother and everything will work out just fine, I know it will. God told me to trust Him when you found that flyer for the Mail Order Bride service, and I believe He wants me to do this. Otherwise, I just don’t know what I’ll do.”
She knelt in front of Elizabeth, and took her hands, gazing at her with pleading eyes.
“All right Ramona. I’ll help you to do it. You’re right – it may be the only way you get to see your mother again. Let’s go down to the Mail Order office today. I plucked one of the flyers from the bulletin board and have it right here in my dresser drawer.”
Elizabeth stood to her feet and walked to the dresser. Opening one of the drawers, she withdrew a crumpled flyer and handed it to Ramona who smoothed it out to read over again.
“Thank you Lizzie. I know I don’t need your approval, but I’d like to have it just the same. I never had a sister, but I believe you’re the closest thing to a sister a girl could ever ask for. I wish you could come with me. It’s going to be awful lonesome taking this journey without you. Promise me you’ll write?”
“Of course I will. Just as soon as you write to let me know where you are, I’ll write back to you the very same day, I promise. You’re the sister I always wanted as well. I just hope that we’ll see each other again someday.”
The two women embraced with tears streaking their forlorn faces. Their lives were about to change forever, and neither one of them could imagine what the future might hold for them. After breakfast Ramona walked through the city to the address on the flyer with Elizabeth by her side. They found the office of the Mail Order Bride service in a run-down building on the other side of Central Park. After waiting in the reception area for a few minutes, an attractive middle-aged woman with dark hair piled high on her head strode into the room and called Ramona’s name. The woman was in charge of the agency. Her name was Rachel Moore, and Ramona followed her back to a small office with frosted glass windows. Elizabeth stayed seated in the reception area, her foot tapping nervously against the tiled floor, one finger held up to her mouth as she chewed on a nail.
Rachel Moore, a kind but stern woman, looked Ramona up and down with a careful eye and offered her a high-backed wooden chair. Rachel walked around to the other side of her desk and sat behind it, pulling a ledger from a drawer of the desk, and laying it down on top of the desk. After a brief interview, Rachel walked Ramona through the entire Mail Order Bride process. She told her that each prospective husband was interviewed, thoroughly checked out, and would pay to have her travel out to marry him. While she spoke, she flicked through a ledger, her finger drifting across the page before turning it over and moving onto the next page of the folder.
Ramona studied the floor, her eyes flicking between her hands and Rachel’s face as she asked the question that had been on her mind ever since she’d heard about the scheme.
“Are any of the men from Austin, Texas?”
Rachel adjusted the spectacles on her nose and glanced down the list. A crease appeared on her fair forehead, and she rubbed it vigorously with her fingertips.
“Hmmm, let me see. Yes, there are, actually.” She placed the
folder down with a thud. “One might be suitable for you. His name is Michael Newhill. He’s a construction worker.”
Ramona drew in a sharp breath. She clasped her hands together. “Oh yes, surely we’re a match Miss Moore? Please – can you check? It’s just that I’ve heard so much about Austin. It sounds like a fascinating town, and I’d really love to go somewhere interesting. So many places on the frontier sound so dull, or even dangerous. If I could go to Austin I just know I’d be happy there. Do you think this Michael Newhill might be a good match for me?”
Rachel sat still, watching Ramona’s face closely as she made her appeal.
“Well my dear, I’m sure you are a good match. Let’s see. Yes, I think that would work out just fine. He looks like he is a decent man, with a solid income and good prospects. You would do well to be married to such a man. Yes, I think that would work out well. If you are happy to proceed, I’ll write to Mr. Newhill and let him know your position. He will wire us the money for you to travel to Austin, and will meet the coach there. Well now, that was easy enough. It usually takes a lot longer to find an appropriate match for a young woman like yourself, Ramona. You have made my job a sight easier today. Well now, I do believe you will be happy with Mr. Newhill. What a pleasure it is for me to help two people find love.”
Rachel’s slammed the register closed, and removed her spectacles to rub her eyes.
“How long do you think it will be before I hear from Mr. Newhill?” asked Ramona, leaning forward in her chair, her brown eyes wide.
“I will wire him in Austin, and if he wires back directly it should only be a few days at most.” Rachel reached for her quill and made notes on a notepad in front of her.
“Thank you so much for your help,’ said Ramona, standing to her feet. “I guess this means that I’ll be heading to Austin by the end of the week then.”
“You surely could be if everything goes well.”
Ramona sighed, and smoothed her hair back from her forehead with both hands.
