Love And Hearts Ride West: Mail Order Bride: 16 Novella's Bundle

by Indiana Wake

  ©Copyright 2015 Belle Fiffer & Indiana Wake

  All Rights Reserved.

  FairHavensBooks@cd2.com

  Chapter 1

  1891 Chester, Orange County near New York.

  “Maggie, Maggie, help me,” Daisy screamed at the top of her lungs.

  The words seemed to reverberate off the kitchen walls and Maggie wondered at the unfairness of it for just a second. Then she grabbed a bucket and as fast as she could she ran out to the garden.

  Daisy was clutching her swollen stomach, her head over her knees. All last night she had complained about how she needed to relax in the garden. Maggie bit back her smile; it seemed that her relaxation had been spoilt. Quickly she moved her sister-in-laws skirts and placed the bucket for her. It was just in time. Daisy leaned forward and wretched in a most unladylike manner.

  As she gently stroked Daisy’s back Maggie found herself reminiscing. She had been living with her brother Matthew and his wife for a year now, ever since their parents died. A wave of sadness almost engulfed her. Even now, she could not think of the fire that took their lives and her home without experiencing a suffocating grief. Matthew had taken her in without a second thought, but Daisy, his wife, was not too pleased. In Daisy’s mind she ate too much, took up too much room and was lazy. In fairness, she was not entirely unhappy, or ungrateful. But she knew her sister-in-law resented her presence in the household.

  Daisy sat up. “Where is my towel?” she snapped.

  “Here,” Maggie said as she handed it over. “The morning sickness will soon pass.” She at least hoped that it would because it made Daisy even more difficult.

  “You realize we can’t afford to feed someone… well someone as big as you once the baby comes?” Daisy said.

  Maggie bit back the retort that was ready on her tongue. Just because she was big did not mean she ate so much. But that was not the real problem. Daisy did not want her here. At the moment, she could stay because she was useful, but what was to become of her? Would Matthew see her out of a home? Where would she go? But the biggest question of all was could she stay? How much longer could she put up with Daisy’s gibes and insults before she lost her temper?

  “Let me empty your bucket,” she said because there was no point in arguing. Daisy was selfish and miserly, and there was no way she would see Maggie’s point of view. As she carried the bucket away, she wondered if she would ever find love. Then she wondered if she would ever have time to look?

  Maggie spent most of her mornings preparing breakfast for the family and tending to the water hose while Daisy enjoyed the morning sunshine. This was not her first bout of nausea; luckily today Matthew was in his office. Maggie smiled as she thought of how tender her brother had become and how acutely concerned he was over Daisy’s morning sickness.

  It was Sunday morning, in many ways no different than the rest of the week. Maggie began beating eggs and warming milk for Daisy and her unborn child while Matthew prepared for Church. Sunday sermons were the only highlight of Maggie’s dull life. She thoroughly enjoyed the choir and the sermons, but most of all she liked meeting up with everybody, especially her childhood friend Charlotte. There was no time during the week due to her duties as well as the fact that she had relocated since that dreadful fire. She missed her father terribly. In many ways, he had spoilt her. Whereas her mother had always had one thing on her mind, and that was to find Maggie a decent marriage proposal. She could still remember how she worried because Maggie was not like other girls of her age. She dwarfed her friends, both in height and width and she needed twice the amount of cloth to get her gowns stitched. There were those who teased her and when she came home crying mother would not offer sympathy. “When a man looks at a girl, he wants to see all his desires projected upon her,” her mother used to say. “So stand up straight Maggie. Smile. And try to hold your breath in while you’re at it.” Her mother’s comments were not meant unkindly and were much nicer than many she had heard. Still sometimes they cut deep.

  The church buzzed with chatter. Maggie found herself soaking in all the goodness that surrounded her. Charlotte caught her eye and she rushed across grateful to be away from Daisy’s disapproving look. Soon they were settled in the pews and the service began.

  The Pastor spoke of the pairing of women and men and the subject of marriage. It left her musing about her mother’s apprehensions, and whether or not she would be able to find someone who would accept her the way she was. “Daisy has been hinting again,” she said.

  “I don’t know how you put up with it,” Charlotte replied.

  Maggie smiled; her friend did not understand that she had no choice. “I just wish I could find a man. Do you think there is someone who could find me attractive? Or at least would consider making me his wife?” She could not believe she had just said that. It made her sound weak and needy, and she was neither.

  “But, of course, there is,” exclaimed Charlotte, as always the faithful supporter of Maggie that she was. “Can’t you see? Half the town knows you as Maggie the magician! Remember how you saved old Mr. Hughes’ piglets from dying of disease in the middle of the night. And then you helped Mrs. Donne with her only grandson who was so feverish we all swore he wouldn’t survive!”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do. Any man would be lucky to have you, Maggie. Now stop fussing and let’s go greet Mrs. Atkins.”

  So they left the discussion. However, it wasn’t just the fact that Maggie had larger dresses than girls her age. Regardless of her nature and the work that kept her busy until the end of the day, she was also headstrong. Perhaps it was her father’s affection and his love for the written word which had made Maggie form her own opinions. Unlike most women she understood the crises and the situations their part of the world was facing, and she wanted to help. This made her outspoken and often frustrated because she was aware of the fact that a woman’s opinion did not matter much. That was something else her mother had tried to drill into her brain. So often that she could never forget. Although she did choose to disregard it sometimes. In Maggie’s view, a good man would never want to disregard a woman’s opinion. Not where it mattered.

  While she was ruminating, a prominent business man had walked over to talk to Charlotte. He was very handsome, and her friend laughed in all the right places, her eyelashes fluttering as fast as her fan. She knew that sooner or later Charlotte would accept the proposal of one of the dozens of suitors who proposed to her every weekend. She was known as the most beautiful girl of Chester. Her list of suitors included aristocrats, diplomats and high-end farmers whereas Maggie hadn’t even received a single proposal by the age of twenty. Watching her friend shine in the light of the suitors imagination Maggie felt somehow dimmed. But she put a smile on her face and waved a goodbye to Charlotte. It was time to return to her chores.

  She forgoes the carriage ride home most Sundays. That way she got a bit of fresh air and did not have to listen to Daisy bickering. But it did not stop her worrying about it. Daisy constantly complained that there would be too many mouths to feed once the baby was born. She had often suggested to Maggie that she should respond to one of the advertisements of eligible bachelors looking for brides in the west. Maggie sighed, she believed in old-fashioned chivalry and her pride would not allow her to take the first step in such a situation.

  Back at the house, her chores finished she served a late supper. Matthew was quiet, his head bowed. Maggie could not help but feel sorry for her brother. What could she do to make his life easier?

  “Did you meet anyone at church?” Daisy asked her voice cutting through the air like a scythe.

  “No,” was all Maggie could manage.

  “Then how are you to find a husband?”

  Maggie kept her smile sweet and luckily for her Matthew suggested that they retire to the parlor.

  Alone in the kitchen Maggie put away the pots and cleaned the room. Through the walls, she could hear another fight. Would she ever find a suitab
le marriage prospect? More importantly would she ever get out of this house? In the next room, the argument had heated up. Daisy was shouting about the lack of clothes, bedding, and food. She heard Matthew defend her, but she could listen to no more. In such times of distress, she preferred to become transparent, to go outside and stay in the shed with the pigs. Usually, she would read her Bible or pray but tonight she did not feel like either. The quiet was all she needed. It was nice to pay attention to the silence of the night and gaze at the moon. It hung there as lonely as she was. Curled up in the hay, she refused to cry. There was a way to improve her life, there had to be. With that hope upmost in her mind, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

  In the morning, she found herself looking at the paper. Involuntarily she turned the pages. Thus, on that Monday morning, Maggie looked at the advertisement that she had bought along with the latest news. In desperation and despondency, she responded to the gentleman of good means who was seeking a ‘suitable bride’ of her age. She wrote to him asking him what qualities he was looking for in a woman whom he desired to be his wife. She told him that she had opinions and what she wanted out of life. A man to love and cherish her, a family of her own and the ability to learn and to contribute as more than a mere kitchen slave. When she was done, the letter was longer than she expected and she was sure that its contents would ensure no reply. Yet the very act of writing the letter took away a touch of her loneliness. In some ways, that letter transported her to a better place and the hope for a future.

  Chapter 2

  “Maggie…. Maggie…Maggie!” shrieked Daisy one day. “There’s a letter that’s arrived for you. It says ‘Miss Margaret Finn, from Mr. Simon Harley.'”

  “What?” Maggie muttered as she walked into the house, muddy from the day’s work.

  “Do we know a Mr. Harley, dear?” she asked Matthew, who had just entered the house and was getting ready for dinner.

  “Not that I know of,” he replied. “What is it, Maggie, are you in any sort of trouble?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing really. He’s just an old friend’s cousin who needed some help.”

  Luckily neither Daisy nor Matthew questioned her any further. Maggie supposed it might have been due to the lackluster nature of her daily life that had gotten her away from any further scrutiny by her family.

  With the letter in her apron pocket, she completed her chores. Waiting for a time when she could sneak to the barn and read it. The morning dragged, first there was breakfast and then the pots to do. Next Daisy wanted her to wash some clothes and scrub the kitchen floor. Dinner time came around and still the letter burned against her skin. As if its very contents were magical.

  They sat down to a meal of cold meats and vegetables.

  “Fetch colder water,” Daisy said her voice shrill and demanding.

  Maggie smiled a genuine smile and did as she bid, somehow the letter gave her possibilities. It made her stronger.

  At last the day was over and Maggie took a lamp and retired to the barn. At least here Daisy would not disturb her. With a pounding heart, she cut the envelope with a knife and took out the letter. Hesitation stayed her hand; before she read it there were possibilities, but what if it was a no thank you note? What then? This was silly she had to read it and carefully she unfolded the paper.

  Dear Miss. Finn,

  It interests me to know that there is someone out there in this big ugly world who cares more about personal opinions than the amount of money I earn annually. I found that your interests in politics, business, fashion, and food are very similar to mine. Your letter was like a breath of fresh air and I could not wait to write back to you.”

  With every word Maggie felt herself grow taller and happier, could this be it? Could she have found someone who could think like she did? Who could accept her? A nagging voice told her that she had not mentioned her size… but did it matter? What was more important how she looked or how she thought? She knew what her answer would be. With a smile on her face, she read on.

  I have traveled the world a great deal to come and settle in the west purely due to the prospects of prosperity this place promises. I am not looking just for a wife, rather a companion with whom I can share my opinions and my life. The women I meet are too silly to talk to. I can tell from your words that you are not. If your reply is in the affirmative, I would love to hear more from you, and eventually have you here at Harley House. It’s a modest beginning, but I hope you would appreciate it.

  Yours truly,

  Simon Harley.

  She read the letter over and over, not believing that she had indeed written to an advertisement and received a reply! The plain handwriting suggested that Mr. Harley was a man of discipline, but the words used revealed a kindred soul who was in search of an ideal companion to share his life with. They revealed someone she thought that she could love. Yet she was not sure whether to reply. Many men had turned her down because of her size. If she kept this up was she asking for disappointment?

  What good was communication if it failed to bridge gaps between two sensible people who sought companionship, wondered Maggie. With that thought, she decided to respond to his letter and the next one…and so forth. Soon she had a bag full of her exchanges from Simon Harley. ‘My dear Simon,' was how she started addressing him and though she never mentioned her size she asked what qualities he found most important in a woman, physical attributes or a good mind? With bated breath, she waited his answer.

  My dear Maggie,

  I know you to be a beautiful person, no matter what you look like. That is enough for me. From your letters, I have fallen in love with you and I would like to take this a step further. Would you come out to visit, with the intention of becoming my bride?

  Your dearest,

  Simon Harley.

  Feeling on top of the world she knew it was time to speak to her family. Matthew would require all the information he could get about a wealthy man from the west who wanted to marry his sister. But Daisy was likely to convince him since it was she who wanted Maggie to leave the household at the earliest. So she decided to approach Daisy first.

  “How exciting!” exclaimed Daisy, her fake enthusiasm bothering Maggie only a little bit.

  “We must let Matthew know immediately, so he can arrange for your travel and luggage. He would be so glad you finally have prospects,” she spoke hurriedly as if already wanting her to leave.

  Matthew proved to be a little reluctant at first. Maggie was the only family member he had left and he cherished his younger sister. Even though the emotions were somewhat blurred due to the interjection of his wife. Yet, Daisy made him believe that traveling all the way to the west was what Maggie wanted. So in the end he arranged for her to travel with a group of his friends who were to explore the frontier for the prospect of employment. Maggie was to pack her belongings and leave in a week.

  So she set off on the most arduous journey of her life. Maggie often wondered what lay in store for her as she traveled the long distance. Would she find the companionship she deserved, or would she be disappointed in going against her principles as she had when she replied to Simon Harley. She wondered whether he was one of the respectable people of the west, for his letters suggested him to have been a master of refined tastes and a lover of serenity. She dreamt of the way he would look and whether he would like the way she looked or shun her. In all her letters, she had never mentioned the fact that she was… larger than most women. Maybe she should have, but her size never bothered her, it was something she simply forgot. That was until she looked in the mirror or some person reminded her. A memory flashed through her mind.

  A man, though hardly a gentleman rode up to her on the street and then reined his horse to a halt. He had turned to his friend and said, “We better wait this lady out, out poor horses don’t have the stamina to go around her.”

  His friend laughed while Maggie looked on. She couldn’t gauge the extent to which his joke was meant to be rude. Yet, as always, she joined
in with them and laughed her hearty laugh. She could tell by his gap-toothed smile that her laughter appeased him. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment longer and then traveled down the length of her peach satin dress. He continued to smile; only now his smile seemed to be more of a snicker to her.

  Would this be what she would find, or would she find the happiness she craved?

  Shaking away such terrible thoughts she came back to the present. The journey was hard, but soon she would find love. Mr. Harley had a good mind and in their letters she had begun to know him. She knew he would accept her and that at last she would be happy.

  She thought of all these things until she arrived at an Inn where Simon was going to receive her and take her to his house in Missouri.

  Walking into the dusty Inn she felt very alone. Here she was a large woman in pink satin, hot, dusty and wanting nothing more than a hot bath and to take the weight off her feet. As she pushed her way past the Cowboys, she heard sniggers, mumbles and even worse. Women were scarce out here, and yet still to some, she was nothing but a joke. She stopped her bad thoughts and remembered what Charlotte always told her. “You are a better person than most. Those who accept that are worthy of you, those that don’t are like dirt in the wind. They are worth nothing.”

  It was a funny thing for her friend to say, but it always made her feel good, despite what anyone said to her.

  “Do you want a drink or are you looking for employment?” asked the woman behind the bar. Her eyebrow rose and she looked to the corner where a group of gaudily dressed women were draped around a few cowboys.

  Maggie realized she had been dreaming again, she must look simple. A blush rose on her face, but she fought for control and replaced it with a smile. “I am Miss Margaret Finn, I am meeting a gentleman a Mr.--”

  “Miss Finn?” A man’s voice rose from the nearest table. “You are not quite as I imagined.”