Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Weaver

by Kit Morgan

  “I’d love to tell you, but I don’t have time. Let me get you what you need, then I’ve got to get a batch of biscuits in the oven.”

  “That’s quite all right,” said Mrs. Davis. “I’m sure to hear all about it tomorrow.”

  “Oh, of course you will!” Betsy agreed. “Trust me, you’ll be the first!”

  Mrs. Davis smiled. “Yes, I know.”

  Chapter 3

  Later that evening, Daniel leaned over the kitchen table as Matthew penned his letter for him.

  Dear Miss Knudsen:

  I’ve received your letter and I think you would make me a fine wife …

  “Wait a minute, Matty,” Daniel said. “Don’t ya need to re-read the letter she sent? What if ya leave somethin’ important out?”

  Matthew snorted. “I know all there is to know about Miss Knudsen and her wifely … capabilities. She made it quite clear in her letter. Trust me, I don’t need to see it again to do this.”

  “All right, if’n ya say so. I was just figgerin’.”

  Matthew nodded tersely. “Now where was I? Ah yes …”

  … and look forward to the day when we can finally meet. I have enclosed train and stage fare for your journey, plus enough funds to cover your expenses along the way. Send word of your date of arrival and I will be waiting.

  “There, that should do it,” Matthew said. He shoved the paper and pen at Daniel. “Here, you can sign it now.”

  “But my handwritin’ ain’t as nice as yers, cousin.”

  “Just sign it. It wouldn’t be right if I did … oh, wait!” Matthew grabbed the pen back again.

  “Hey! What’re ya doin’?”

  Matthew grinned at him, scribbled something down, then handed the pen back. “There, now it’s done.”

  Daniel looked at it:

  P.S. And just to let you know, I have all my teeth too … among other things.

  Daniel’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What other thin’s?”

  “Never mind, just sign it,” he ordered.

  “Fine. But next time I need a letter writ, I’m gonna do it myself.” Daniel scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page. “Here – ya’ll put this in the post tomorrow like ya said, right?”

  “Of course. I know you’re anxious to get your bride out here. From the sounds of it, she’s anxious as well.” He licked his lips to hide a smirk, failed and turned away instead. “I think I’ll go see what Mother’s made for dessert.”

  “I hope its pie,” Daniel commented as Matthew left the room. From the sound of it, though, he went out the back door. Daniel could hear laughter coming from the back stoop, and wondered what had gotten into his cousin. “Maybe married life has him on edge like Ma says.”

  “Are you talking to yourself, Daniel?” his uncle asked as he entered the room.

  “Yessir, I am.”

  He smiled. “And what does yourself tell you these days?”

  “That my cousin out there is a little off.”

  Mr. Quinn raised a single eyebrow at the statement and turned toward the back door. The cackles on the other side got louder. “I see. Maybe I ought to investigate.”

  “Don’t pay Matty no mind, Uncle. He’s got a lot to worry about is all, considerin’ he and Charlotte got themselves that little, ya know … problem?”

  “Problem?”

  Daniel nodded, folded his arms into a cradle and rocked them back and forth.

  “Oh yes, that. It happens sometimes, son. I remember it took a few years for you to come along. You’re what, five years younger than Calvin and Benjamin?”

  “Yessir. Almost to the day.”

  “I’m sure they’re just getting a late start. Nothing wrong with that now, is there?”

  “Nossir, I don’t think so. But Aunt Betsy don’t seem like she agrees.”

  “Ah yes, your dear Aunt Betsy,” Mr. Quinn said with a sigh. “She’ll just have to be patient.”

  “Well if’n Matty and Charlotte don’t get the job done soon, I think Aunt Betsy’s patience is gonna run out.”

  His uncle chuckled. “Well, son, you let me worry about her.” He pulled out a chair and sat. “What about you? Do you want children right away?”

  “Me?” Daniel asked in shock. “Nossir, not me. We got enough of ‘em around the place without me addin’ any of my own.”

  He chuckled again. “You have a good point there. I don’t know how your brother Calvin manages. How are they doing, by the way?”

  “Calvin and Bella? They’re just fine. Everyone is … all twenty-four of us.”

  “And your mail-order bride will make it twenty-five. You’re going to need your own post office out there.”

  Daniel laughed. “Nah, Ma likes comin’ into Nowhere too much. In fact, she’ll be with me next time I come to town.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Whenever Matty thinks I’ll get another letter from my bride. When I do, she’ll be tellin’ me what day and time she’s gonna get here.”

  “And soon you’ll be a married man,” his uncle said with pride. “I have to say, I never thought I’d see the four of you boys wed. Your pa would be mighty proud … mighty proud indeed to see how well you’ve done for yourselves.”

  Daniel felt his throat tighten. He was fourteen when his father died and had taken his death the hardest. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about him. “I’m sure he would.”

  “How about some coffee?” his uncle asked as he got up from the table.

  Daniel nodded, glad to be off the subject of his pa. It had been nearly ten years since his passing, but some days it seemed like it was only last week. Today was one of those days for some reason and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Did Aunt Betsy make a pie?”

  “Yep, which means it’s hidden somewhere right in this very room,” his uncle said with a waggle of eyebrows. “What say we find it?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Mr. Quinn grinned, then went to a hutch. He took out two cups and saucers, set them on the table, then poured them each a cup of coffee. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he glanced around the kitchen. “Now where could it be?”

  Before either of them made a move, Matthew waltzed into the room, a pie in his hand. “Found it!”

  His father stared at him in amazement. “I didn’t even get a chance to look!”

  Daniel laughed. “Where was it?”

  “Storeroom, top left shelf.”

  Mr. Quinn burst into hysterics. “The top shelf?”

  “The very top shelf,” Matthew said. “She’s making it harder and harder for us, Pa.”

  “That she is,” his father agreed. “C’mon, boys, let’s have some, then put it back!”

  “Won’t Aunt Betsy get mad?” Daniel asked.

  “Sure!” said his uncle. “That’s half the fun!”

  Daniel scratched his head. “I got me a lot to learn about bein’ married.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ve got at least a month to learn a few things before your bride gets here,” his uncle assured.

  “What kind of things?” Daniel asked.

  Matthew almost choked as he stole a sip of his father’s coffee. He laughed half-heartedly. “Don’t worry. A lot of what you need to learn will just come … naturally.”

  Daniel and his uncle exchanged a look of confusion.

  “Never mind,” Matthew said. “Let’s have some pie.”

  * * *

  Nowhere, Washington Territory, June 1876

  “I can hardly believe it’s been four years since I’ve been here. The last time there was also a wedding for mail-order bride, only she wasn’t Swedish - she was Eye-talian. Pretty as a picture, too. Wait a minute, did I already tell you about her?”

  “No, Sheriff Hughes,” Ebba said. “You told me about your sister Leona and her family.” Not to mention his town of Clear Creek, the brothers Cooke and their huge ranch and all sorts of tall tales, half of which she didn’t believe. Heavens, but the man
was a talker!

  Harlan Hughes sighed and tapped his head with a finger. “My memory ain’t what it used to be, I’m afraid. That’s one of the reasons I’m here, aside from visiting my sister and nephews. There’s a deputy working here, Tom Turner, that I’m going to try to talk into coming back to Clear Creek.”

  “You need another deputy?” she asked.

  “No, no. I want Tom to take over as sheriff.”

  She looked the man up and down. He didn’t look that old, maybe his late fifties, but what did she know? Maybe he was just tired of the job. “You wish to retire?”

  “Among other things,” he said. “But enough about me. You’re going to love Nowhere. I know it’s kind of a funny name for a town, but it’ll grow on you.”

  “Do you visit your sister a lot?”

  “I used too, but I’ve just been too busy lately. I can’t wait to see my grandnephews and grandnieces. Spencer, my sister’s son, he’s the sheriff in town. His older brother Clayton was the sheriff before him, but he went back to apple farming.”

  Ebba suddenly sneezed. It was as if the word “farming” set her affliction off.

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” the sheriff said. “And you were doing so well too. I think its been at least three hours since you sneezed last.”

  Ebba pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and blew her nose, her eyes filling with tears. Hopefully the sheriff wouldn’t notice they were tears of frustration. She’d sneezed and hacked her way across the country – the trains weren’t too bad, but ever since she’d switched to traveling by stagecoach she’d had a time of it. She blew her nose again. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive this place, Sheriff Hughes.”

  He reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “There, now, Miss Knudsen. I’m sure the doc in town can help you. I know our doc from Clear Creek could – Doc Drake can fix whatever ails anyone. And Doc Brown in Nowhere is a fine man too. He and his wife Millie will come up with something.”

  “I know I’m not the only one that suffers so, but from what I’ve been told, there is no cure other than a different climate.”

  “What sort of climate?”

  “I hear that living near the sea is supposed to be good.”

  Sheriff Hughes shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s no sea around here, Miss Knudsen. But don’t worry, I’ll check around town and see if anyone has some sort of remedy. You can’t be the only one to suffer sneezing fits.”

  “I’m sure I’m not.” She swallowed hard and dabbed at her watering eyes, blinking a few times to clear them. She wanted to observe the beautiful countryside, as the road cut through a gently rolling landscape full of apple, pear and cherry orchards. In the distance were the legendary forests and mountains of the Northwest. It was lovely … to look at. But the air made her sneeze and hack until she couldn’t see straight. How was she ever to live in this place?

  Suddenly a line of wooden buildings came into view. “Nowhere! Now entering Nowhere!” the driver called from his perch atop the stagecoach.

  Sheriff Hughes peered out the window, a huge smile on his face. “Well, Miss Knudsen, here we are! Trust me when I tell you, you’re going to love it! Like I said before, Nowhere is a wonderful little town.” He suddenly straightened. “Great Scott, I forgot to ask – who is your intended?”

  “Daniel Weaver is his name.”

  Sheriff Hughes looked at her in shock. “Daniel Weaver?”

  Ebba’s heart leapt into her throat. Oh no, is there something wrong with the man? Sheriff Hughes must know him; he’d been here often enough from the sound of it. “You … have met him?”

  “Well, of course – I know the whole Weaver clan! Wonderful people! I plan on spending a lot of time out there this trip.”

  “You do?” she said in surprise. Well, that’s a relief, she thought. “What is he like, my intended?”

  “Young Daniel is the only one of those boys not yet hitched. It’s about time he got himself a wife. You’re marrying into a fine family, Miss Knudsen.”

  Ebba closed her eyes with a sigh. “That is good to know, Sheriff.”

  The stagecoach slowed as they reached the center of town and Ebba had a sudden burst of excitement. “This is it!”

  “Yes, it certainly is,” the sheriff agreed, a happy gleam in his eye.

  Ebba caught the look and smiled. “You must be very excited to see your sister and nephews.”

  “And a few other folks. Looks like you and I will be seeing each other a lot while I’m here.”

  “Yes, I’m sure we will.” She took her handkerchief and dabbed at her nose. “I must look like a mess.”

  “You look fine. Daniel’s ma is good at mixing things up to fix an ailment. It’s like I said before, the folks in this town will do what they can to help you.”

  “I have never lived in a small town before. You make it sound so nice.”

  “Because it is, Miss Knudsen,” he said as the stage came to a stop.

  “Nowhere, folks!” the stagecoach driver called.

  Ebba’s heart fluttered. She was about to meet her intended! She hoped her nose wasn’t as red as it felt. How could it not be, as often as she blew it? But Daniel Weaver would have to get used to that. So would everyone else in town, for that matter.

  The driver climbed down and opened the stagecoach door. “Let me help you, miss,” he said, then got a good look at her. “Er … are you okay?”

  “Yes. It’s just all the sneezing, you see.”

  “Yeah,” he said as he stared. “I do see.”

  Her eyes widened and she quickly glanced around. Lovely. Her nose was probably as red as a cherry! “I think it’s from all the trees here. The orchards …”

  The stagecoach driver gulped. “I hope you’re here for a short visit then, missy, or you’re in for a heap of suffering.”

  Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I’m here to get married,” she said weakly.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” He made it sound as if someone had just died. At the moment, she felt like she certainly could. She didn’t want her intended to see her like this, but what could she do? She took the hand the driver offered and disembarked.

  Sheriff Hughes followed and stood next to her, glancing around. “I don’t see Leona anywhere,” he remarked.

  “Do you see my intended?”

  “No, none of the Weaver clan. I wonder where everyone is.”

  A woman stared down at them from the boardwalk in front of a mercantile. She was well dressed and stood like she owned the place. Maybe she’s the mayor’s wife, Ebba mused. That is, if the town was big enough to have a mayor. “Who is that?” she asked.

  Sheriff Hughes turned, spied the woman and said in a low voice, “That’s Nellie Davis. She’ll probably know where folks are. She makes it a point to know everything that goes on in this town.”

  The driver snorted in response, pulling Ebba’s attention from the woman. She looked at him as he quickly composed himself. “I’ll just … get your bags.” He scrambled up to the top of the stagecoach.

  Ebba looked again at the woman, who was looking down her nose at her in disdain. Now why would that be?

  “Mrs. Davis!” the sheriff called. “Have you seen Leona or any of the Weavers around?”

  “Last time I saw any of them, they were down at Hank’s restaurant having coffee,” she said loftily.

  Ebba suddenly felt self-conscious. She dabbed at her nose with the handkerchief. Why was her intended drinking coffee when he knew she was arriving?

  The sheriff pulled out a pocket watch and flipped it open. “Well, I’ll be – we’re fifteen minutes early! How about that?” He turned to Ebba. “What say we go down to Hank’s and surprise them?”

  Ebba smiled at the suggestion for three reasons. She’d be meeting her intended. Her scratchy throat could desperately use a hot drink. And it would get her away from the piercing gaze of this Nellie Davis person. “Yes, that’s a good idea, Sheriff.”

  As soon as their bags hit the
ground, he picked them up and nodded toward the end of the street. “Hank’s is this way – follow me.”

  “Welcome to Nowhere,” Mrs. Davis called condescendingly.

  Ebba looked at her and wondered what had happened to the woman that she would be so hostile to a stranger. “Thank you,” she said as politely as she could.

  Mrs. Davis looked her up and down, then spun on her heel and marched into the mercantile.

  Sheriff Hughes watched the door slam shut. “I wonder what’s in her craw today?” He shook his head. “Something always is. You’ll want to watch out for her. All in all, Nellie Davis is harmless, but she can get uppity. Her daughter Charlotte used to be just like her, but she’s changed into a right fine woman. She works in the mercantile with her husband Matthew – who happens to be the cousin of the man you’re going to marry.”

  Ebba smiled. “You know everyone in this town, don’t you, Sheriff Hughes?”

  He thought a moment. “Pretty much. Now let’s go find your intended, shall we?”

  She smiled again. “Yes, let’s.”

  The sheriff led Ebba up the street. She took note of the buildings and the townspeople as they went about their daily business. Several waved at Sheriff Hughes, who waved or called out a greeting in return. It was quite apparent that everyone knew him.

  But no one asked who she was. Instead they stared in curiosity or (at least from the women) looked at her similarly to Mrs. Davis. Did the people here not like strangers? They certainly weren’t making her feel very welcome.

  “Here we are!” the sheriff announced as they reached Hank’s Restaurant. He stuck one bag under his arm so he could open the door, then motioned for her to precede him. With her heart in her throat, she stepped inside.

  Chapter 4

  No one noticed the sheriff and Ebba as they entered the restaurant. Ebba took the opportunity to search for her intended. But which one was he? There were quite a few men seated at the various tables. And every table looked full – not surprising, as it was lunch time.