Mail Order Bride

by Becca Haist

  Mail Order Bride: Left Over From The Lottery (A Christian Western Romance)

  By

  Becca Haist

  Copyright 2015 Becca Haist

  Smashwords Edition

  Synopsis: Mail Order Bride – Left Over From The Lottery, is about an Englishwoman who chances a long journey out west to become a mail order bride, but who loses out at the last minute because of one man’s withdrawal from the lottery. As she becomes the town’s new schoolteacher, she wonders if she’ll ever find love.

  Ali Greyson sat in the pew of her husband’s church and glanced back at the small group gathered during prayer. Their heads were bowed, but she could pick out Len West’s shaggy blonde head in the back. He still came and sat in the same seat every Sunday since he was a little boy. Always had and probably always would It was a late summer day in 1878, and the church was in Jonesboro, Colorado, a small but flourishing town.

  He had grown into a good man. She wished his parents, Coy and Val, were here to see him almost thirty years later.

  In 1849, Coy and Val, like so many other people, moved out west in search of gold which would bring them fortune and hopefully, a little fame along the way. They built a home in the small frontier settlement of Jonesboro. Back then, the whole town consisted of a church, a saloon, the mines and a few scattered houses. Then the mine hit gold and the town boomed.

  Buildings and cabins sprung up everywhere. Coy and Val built their own small, but beautiful cabin on twenty acres of land. They had also become very successful at finding gold. For a long time, it felt like the town was invincible, but almost as quickly as it came, the gold ran dry. The town managed to hold on and the loyal folks stuck around to keep it going.

  Val found out that she was expecting and everyone joined in the excitement-especially Ali and Ichabod Groin. It would be the first baby born in Jonesboro, so it was a reason to be festive. The Wests and the Groins had known each other for a long time and were very close. They had traveled from South Carolina to Colorado together, bundled up against the elements and afraid, as they crossed the United States for something they had only heard about - gold.

  Tragically, something went wrong as their son Len was being born and Val died in childbirth like so many women of those times. There were only a few doctors to look after the influx of new people coming to start new lives, so many of the pregnant women had children without the help of a doctor, often as a matter of fact, with just their husbands and a few cowhands to help them. It was no wonder that so few children survived childbirth, or that their mothers did at all.

  Coy was devastated at the death of his wife, but Ali helped take care of Len, doing all the things for the baby that his mother would have done, feeding, nourishing, teaching. Eight years later, Coy suddenly passed away, too. Some say he worked himself to death in the mines and some say he died of a broken heart. Whatever it was, Coy was never the same after Val had died. Now, Len was orphaned and left in Ali and Ichabod’s care for all his needs. They loved the boy as their own and had done a great job of raising him.

  But, Coy had seen to it that he had an inheritance, a good inheritance, left over from the gold rush.

  Now, here Len was, twenty-two years later. He was tall like his father, with broad shoulders and strong arms perfect for carpentry. Ichabod was the church’s minister on Sunday’s but he was the town’s carpenter the rest of the week. A mixed up career by any standards, but needs existed and somehow, the Lord always saw fit to fill those needs of the people. His people.

  He had taught Len everything he knew about woodworking and making furniture. Ichabod saw the eagerness to learn and to do well that sprouted from Len, and he was proud to think he could leave the business in Len’s hands one day. The boy had turned out to be a natural woodworker, and he could see the beauty in the grain of wood before Ichabod could, even though he was the far more experienced with the trade.

  He and Ali had raised him since he was eight years old and they loved him like he was their own. Ali smiled as she reminisced on Len’s childhood. She just wished he would find a good girl and settle down, but she knew the pickings were slim and the chances of him taking a wife from those available in Jonesboro were even slimmer.

  She bowed her head and sent up a small prayer. The service ended as the church bells rang and the townsfolk started to pour down the steps outside.

  Ali set down the ladle she had in her hand and paused before turning around to face her husband.

  “Dear,” she said matter-of-factly “I have a great idea to help Len find a wife.” Her husband looked up from the small figurine he was whittling, shook his head and laughed.

  “You always have some sort of scheme up your sleeve, Ali” he said.

  “No this is different! I read about it in the paper. A few weeks ago they had a ‘Mail Order Bride Lottery’ in San Francisco. Forty-three women from back east came out here to marry men they had never met! Can you believe that?” she exclaimed.

  “Well darlin’, I think we know by now that anything’s possible,” he replied.

  Yes, she mused, anything is possible.

  But Ali kept thinking about the whole mail order bride scenario and how fitting it seemed to be for Len. He needed a woman in his life, and he wasn’t going to find one in Jonesboro.

  In bed that night, Ali rolled the possibility over in her mind again. A mail order bride lottery is just what this town needed and God knows it could use a woman’s touch. She still couldn’t conjure up a way to get Len to join -- he would never be interested in this type of thing.

  She worried about him. All alone in that cabin of his, surrounded by memories of loved ones past. If only he could open his heart just a little bit – a good woman would do the rest.

  The next morning, Ali woke up with excitement. She hurried down to the town’s press to have posters printed. “Bakersville Bride Lottery!” it read, “Seeking good men who would like to take wives from the east. Please see Mrs. Alice Groin.”

  She posted one in the town hall, one in the Sheriff’s post, one at Moore’s General Supplies, one in the Saloon, and finally -- one in the church.

  There was no way Len would miss those, and maybe if he thought it was his own idea, he would sign up. She hurried back home and wrote a letter to her cousin, Milly, in London, England to tell her the news. Ali had immigrated to America when she was 12 years old with her parents, but she still felt a fondness for her home country and the traditions of the women.

  When she was a girl, she had longed to take tea with the ladies and gossip about anything and everything. Although those days were long gone, and she loved her life with husband out in Colorado, she wished she had someone to reminisce about England with. Therefore, she set pen to paper and told Milly all about the lack of suitable women and the vast numbers of men without wives.

  Her plan for a Mail Order Bride lottery was going to be the key to changing things in their town. She told Milly that she would be mailing out letters to a few churches back east and in jest, suggested Milly send a few fashionable ladies across the water who would want to be auctioned off.

  Ali could feel the excitement building in her own mind, and she certainly hoped it was building in everyone else’s, too.

  After just one week of the Bride Lottery posters being up, Ali had received the entries of six different men. To her vexation, Len hadn’t even acknowledged the lottery in any way.

  She had prayed every night since she came up with the idea, but she was beginning to think the answer was clear. She would have to enter Len on her own and without his knowing. Once he met the women, he was sure to find one that he liked!

  Ali smiled at her cleverness.

  Vicki Horne was a twenty-eight year old governess for the Dueys– an aristocratic fa
mily living in London. She was a highly educated woman with porcelain features and alabaster skin. Her time as a governess though, was ending. The children had grown -- the elder daughter was to be married soon, and the younger son was moving on to be groomed by his father in estate matters.

  The Lady of the house, Milly, was very kind to her and had said plainly that she was welcome as long as necessary. Because her husband, Lord Auman, was often away, Milly had enjoyed having Vicki as a companion. The women were both sitting in the drawing room, Milly was reading and Vicki was painting with watercolors, when a servant of the house brought in a letter that had arrived.

  “Oh my!” Milly exclaimed, “It’s a letter from my dear cousin Ali. She lives in Colorado in America. They call it the Wild West!”

  Vicki set down her paintbrush and listened. She loved to read about the American frontier so she was very interested in what the letter had to say.

  Milly gasped, “She says that she is holding a Mail Order Bride Lottery because of the lack of suitable women out west. How absurd!”

  Vicki’s mind raced. “So, men would take wives they had never met?” The idea intrigued her since she had lost hope in finding a husband in England. Being a governess required a strict and slightly awkward social position, which made it hard to find a husband. A governess had to live with their charges, often for years and years, or until the parents decided to send them away to boarding school. There wasn’t time to even meet a suitable man to be a husband.

  She was above the servants in rank so they rarely socialized. When she was invited to social gatherings the family held, the men were usually nobility and would never consider a match with a governess. She took a quick breath and interrupted Milly’s reading of the letter.

  “What would you think if I asked you to write her back for me?” she asked.

  Milly looked up from the letter and laughed, “You can’t be serious, dear!”

  Vicki stood and went to the window. As she rested her hands on the sill and gazed out at the gardens, she decided to just say it.

  “I think that would make me happy. You know I’ve always longed for excitement and now that the children have grown, what other prospects do I have here? You have been so kind and generous to me, but I cannot expect to stay in your household forever.”

  Milly smiled. She had always admired Vicki’s free spirit.

  “If it would please you, I shall write her and send you off to the new frontier as soon as you’re ready,” replied Milly.

  “Oh Lady Duey, it would please me ever so much! I might lose my nerve if I don’t take the opportunity now. At least I’d be going to meet up with people you already know.”

  Therefore, after much discussion over the possibilities and the excitement they generated in the two conniving women, Milly wrote a letter to Ali.

  That night, Vicki went to her room and flung herself across the bed. She had read so many books written about America and the west, but she had never even met an American. What would her future husband look like? Would he be genteel and educated or a lawless cowboy? Suddenly, she felt some anxiety over her quick decision. She reassured herself with a prayer, remembering that Milly’s cousin Ali was a preacher’s wife, so there could be no shenanigans in this mail order bride offer.

  She closed her eyes and trusted God to lead her to the right man. By the following Friday, Vicki had packed her bags, said her goodbyes, and was on a ship bound for the states.

  The day that she arrived in Charleston, she sent word to Milly that she had made the journey and arrived safely.

  Mr. Duey had given Vicki more than enough money to cover her travel and boarding expenses, so she decided to spend her first night in an inn to rest. The next morning, she asked the Innkeeper for directions to the train station, but once she found the appropriate westbound train, she began to feel some hesitation. Now, her journey became a real one void of all the dreams of greatness that had prompted her decision back in London.

  Was she doing the right thing? She closed her eyes and asked God for a sign as she touched the cross necklace Milly had given her as a farewell gift.

  “Lean on your faith always, Vicki,” she had said, “it will guide you and keep you safe.”

  Just then, she felt a hand on her arm. She opened her eyes to see a smiling young woman staring back at her.

  “Are you lost, darlin’?” she asked. The girl had wild curly red hair under her large white hat, and vivid green eyes. For a moment, Vicki was taken aback by her friendliness.

  “I’m headed to Jonesboro, Colorado. Is this the right train?” she asked.

  “Well what a coincidence, it sure is! I’m headed to the same place! Don’t tell me you heard about the Bride Lottery, too?” the girl said. “My name is Cece by the way.” Vicki giggled in nervous relief.

  “I did, and that’s exactly why I’m headed there. My name is Vicki. It is lovely to meet you.”

  Cece linked her arm in Vicki’s and raised her parasol into the air. “Then, to Jonesboro we shall go!” Vicki was so relieved to have met a friend that suddenly her excitement and resolve returned.

  They settled into two seats on the train and Cece kicked off her shoes. Vicki’s eyes widened in shock that a lady would take her shoes off in public.

  Cece noticed her gaping, “And who should notice but you?” she said with a wink. Vicki had never met someone so delightfully unabashed.

  “So, why did you enter the lottery?” she asked. “I’m from Georgia, where my father owns a plantation, but everyone there is dreadfully dull. I heard about mail order brides, but a lottery made it even more exciting! I could just see myself, the wife of some devastatingly handsome cowboy, wrangling cattle with him and with both of us on horseback, wind through my hair and the sun on my face, with the whole expanse of the American frontier in my sights.”

  Vicki listened with great patience to her seat buddy.

  “I even taught myself how to use a lasso! You must find me terribly silly for using my imagination so much,” Cece exclaimed.

  “No, no! You needn’t worry. I’m just as much of a dreamer as you. I was a governess for a noble house in England, but I could feel my life slipping away from me. I had no prospects for a husband, my charges had grown and my only option was to find another family to be a governess for. I felt like a caged bird. I longed to fly and find love my own way, but I was trapped by my position and the rules of society. The mistress of the estate, Lady Duey, is a cousin to Ali Groin, the woman organizing the lottery. Otherwise, I would never have heard of it,” explained Vicki.

  “Well it should be very interesting. There are five other ladies aside from us, and from what I’ve heard, the men are all great prospects. Apparently, upon our arrival, there will be a dance held in our honor with the entire town invited. That way, we can become acquainted, and the next day Mrs. Groin will put all of our names into a hat and draw them.” Cece seemed to know every cranny about the auction.

  “So, no one has a choice and it’s entirely random. It’s both terrifying and exciting!” said Vicki, as her heart skipped a beat imagining her name being called and a handsome man stepping up to the stage with his number held high.

  The women had arrived to Jonesboro and the whole town was in a flurry. The anticipation for the dance that night was almost palpable. Ali still hadn’t told Len that she had entered his name into the drawing and she was beginning to feel guilty about doing so. Lying was not something a God-fearing woman should be doing, but she felt she had no other choice.

  Ichabod recommended that she tell Len what she had done and that she might need to prepare for him being upset, but still Ali stubbornly refused. Something in her gut told her that he wouldn’t go through with it if she told him too early.

  Len had heard about the Bride Lottery that Ali was organizing and he was relieved Ali hadn’t pushed him to join. She was always trying to find him a wife even though he didn’t want to get married. He felt so much animosity about his mother dying giving birth to him t
hat he couldn’t imaging having the same thing happen to a wife of his own.

  Ichabod had tried his best to counsel Len and get him to trust in God, but the young man struggled with his faith. That night, the excitement in the town had become infectious, and Len decided to go to the dance after all.

  Normally, he preferred to keep to himself, but he had to admit he wanted to see what the fuss was all about. When he arrived at the town hall, the festivities had already begun. He noticed Ali across the room surrounded by a group of seven young ladies, but he could have sworn he heard there were just six gentlemen who had joined the lottery.

  He brushed it off and said hello to a few people before Ali called for everyone’s attention.

  “Thank you to everyone who has come out to support these newcomers! We have seven ladies and seven gentlemen who would like to get married. As you all know, we have a surplus of men around here, and not nearly as many women.”

  A rumble of noise floated through the crowd. Ali held up her hand to quiet the people.

  “Of course, men have built this town, but we can all agree that it needs a woman’s touch!” she said.

  The crowd cheered and Len looked around. Who was the seventh man to join?

  “I’m going to explain what will happen tomorrow. Each group has agreed to a lottery style drawing, so I will have my gentleman draw a number out of a hat, and stand in that order. Then, I will be selecting the ladies’ names from a different hat. The first lady’s name called will go to the first gentleman in line, and so on and so forth. We will all meet in the town square at eleven o’clock A.M.! Good luck to all tomorrow, but tonight, let’s enjoy ourselves.”

  Everyone clapped and Len had to hand it to Ali, she had done an excellent job in putting this together. She invited all the ladies up on stage and introduced them. They all seemed nice enough, but he was losing interest very quickly -- until she got to a woman named Vicki.