Gunsmoke and Gingham

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Papa’s arms closed around her, holding her tight. “I can’t either.”

  Mary sniffled a bit. She and her papa had made it through a lot of years without her mama, thanks to Mrs. Johnson. All the things that were too indelicate for a father to discuss with his daughter, she’d helped with. All the things that a mother taught a daughter, she’d helped with. She was more the age of a grandmother, but she’d become what Mary had needed in her mother’s absence.

  And now Mary was ready to marry and start her life as a wife. Ready to have a family of her own. She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 2

  Mary was clearing the table when a knock came to the door, and she jumped, casting a side glance at her papa. “You finish. I’ll see who’s here.”

  She nodded, keeping her head down as he opened the door. “Well, if it isn’t William Jones. What can I do for you? Mary is busy with the supper dishes.” Papa’s voice was as cold as it always was when William came by. He wasn’t as fond of her beau as she was…

  “I want to have a word with you, Mr. Brown.”

  Papa stood still and stared at the boy before finally nodding. “Come in. We’ll go to the parlor.”

  Mary dawdled as she cleared the dishes from the table, standing as close to the parlor as she could. Papa noticed her and closed the door, and she sighed, walking into the kitchen to wash the dishes. She and Mrs. Johnson fixed supper together every evening, but she did the dishes alone.

  Her mind was running wild as she thought about what William and Papa could be saying to each other. Surely Papa would understand that it was time for her to marry. She was sixteen! Several girls in her class had married already. Soon she’d be an old maid! Why, two of her former classmates already had babies.

  She smiled and did a quick spin in the kitchen, humming a happy tune under her breath. While it was scary to wait for the talk to be over, she knew how it would end—how it had to end. She’d read enough fairy tales to know that they all ended with a wedding, and the words, “And they all lived happily ever after.” It was time for her happily ever after.

  Of course, her mama hadn’t lived happily ever after, but she knew very well Mama had been happy throughout her life. She’d died young, which had broken her papa’s heart, but Mama had been happy until the end of her life. Their last days together, reading through Heidi, had been so special to her. Surely her life with William would be just as good.

  She was finished with the dishes, and had found a book and planted herself at the dining room table, before the door to the parlor finally opened again more than an hour later.

  Papa looked between her and William, before he nodded. “I’ll give you two ten minutes of privacy.” He turned and headed up the stairs, leaving her alone with William. Never before had her father left them alone, so she was both surprised and pleased. Surely this meant he’d agreed to the marriage.

  As soon as her father had climbed the stairs, Mary jumped to her feet. “What did he say?” She rushed forward, taking William’s hands in hers. “It was so hard to wait out here while you talked! I wanted to be in there with you, giving all the reasons we should marry immediately.”

  William sighed. “He said I may marry you, but there are conditions that must be met first.” His brown eyes met hers, his filled with a sadness she’d never seen there. His eyes were always merry, and now they made her want to weep.

  “Conditions? What kind of conditions?” Her papa knew they’d been courting for more than a year, and she’d been certain he would agree immediately. She was shocked that he was being difficult.

  William took her hand in his. “Let’s sit and talk about it.”

  “Of course.” She didn’t want to sit. She wanted him to tell her that they could plan their wedding. It didn’t have to be a big one. She’d wear her mama’s wedding dress, and they could get married at the small church in town where they’d both attended their whole lives.

  William would finish school the next week, but he promised to still walk into town to walk her home every evening. He had a job as a farmhand for old Mr. Hardy, and he worked for him on the weekends and after school. “Your father wants me to go West and get some land. If I prove up on it, then we can marry.” He’d never thought he’d consider being a homesteader. Eventually he’d inherit his father’s land, and he could be a farmer right there in Massachusetts, but it’s what her father wanted. He’d do anything to marry her.

  “But it takes five years to prove up on land! And there isn’t any left that’s close!” She shook her head adamantly. “Let’s elope. We can go to Beckham and marry right away. No one can stop us. I’m sixteen! A full-grown woman! Just like my mama was.” Why wasn’t he fighting what her father said? He acted like it was the most normal thing in the world to be told he had to go West.

  William rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I don’t want to go against him, though. He’s the only family you have. I’ll go, and I’ll make a good life for us.” He couldn’t be the reason she and her father parted ways. He’d never really seen eye to eye with her father, but she loved him, and that was good enough for him.

  Mary felt the tears escape the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want you to go.” She clung to one of his hands with both of hers. “Please stay.”

  He used his thumb to rub away one of her tears. “This is the fourth time I’ve seen you cry…and the only time I’ve caused it. I’m so sorry.”

  She took a deep breath, fortifying herself. “Well, if you must go, then you must. It’s a good time of year for it. Promise me you’ll write.” It would be better if he went in the spring, when all life was starting over. She’d wait for him…as long as it took.

  “Every single week. No matter how busy I get, I’ll write to you.”

  She stood, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him close. “I’ll walk you out.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Never before had she walked him out, even with all the times he’d visited over the years. He turned to her as soon as they were outside. “Did you have something else you wanted to say?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  She shook her head. “No, but I have something else I want to do.” She reached up and pulled his head down to hers, pressing her lips to his. She’d never allowed him to kiss her, always believing they should wait until they were engaged.

  William held her close, his hand stroking down her back, feeling her corset through her dress there. “I’m going to miss you so much.” He wanted so badly to take her with him. Together they could conquer the world. They could do anything!

  She sniffled again. “Will you come see me before you go?”

  He shook his head. “It’ll only be harder if I do. I’ll go first thing in the morning, and I’ll write you as soon as I arrive. I love you, Mary Brown.”

  She bit her lip, nodding. “I love you too, William Jones.” She leaned against the wall of her house as she watched him go, already missing him. Her heart would go with him, and stay with him through the years they had to be apart. She wanted to go into the house and yell at her father for making him go, but it wouldn’t make anything easier.

  When he had completely disappeared from her sight, Mary opened the door and went back inside, slipping up the stairs. She didn’t want to talk to her father. She understood why he’d insisted that William go away, but that didn’t make it any easier. The man she loved would be gone from her…only reachable by letter.

  She threw herself on her bed and wept in a way she hadn’t since her mother had died. She would miss him every single day.

  Two weeks later, Mary was beginning to worry. She hadn’t yet received a letter from William, but surely that was because he had yet to reach his destination. She’d thought she would hear from him at one of the train stops, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. She hounded the post mistress daily, asking if she’d received any letters, and the poor woman had always shaken her head with a look of sadness in her eyes.

  Everyone knew why she was sad. She g
ot pitying looks wherever she went. Even though they knew he was gone to make his fortune, they still assumed he’d never come home, but she had faith. She knew William would never give up on her. They belonged together.

  When he’d been gone four weeks, she received her first letter from him. It was short, and not full of news, which disappointed her. It simply told her that he’d gotten a homestead in South Dakota, and he would send a longer, newsier letter as soon as he had the crops planted.

  She carried the letter in her pocket and reread it every day until the day his mother came to her house. Mrs. Jones and her father spent an hour closeted away, talking about something, and then Mrs. Jones left.

  Her father called her into the parlor to speak with her. “What’s going on, Papa? Why was Mrs. Jones here?”

  He frowned at her, shaking his head. “She just got word that William was killed. His own horse trampled him.”

  Mary shook her head. “That can’t be true.” How could he be dead and her heart still be beating? “I’m going out there. He can’t be dead, Papa!”

  “He is. You need to calm down. You can’t travel that far by yourself. You were raised to be a proper young lady.”

  She felt numb. The tears wouldn’t fall. “This is your fault, you know.” Her words were soft, but full of anger. “You sent him away without giving us a chance to marry. Why would you do that?”

  He frowned, shaking his head at her. “I did it because it was the best thing for you. Maybe you can’t see it, but I’m older and wiser. I know you aren’t ready to marry.”

  “You married Mama when she was sixteen!”

  “And it killed her!”

  Mary shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Mama’s death. Why did you do this to me?” She hurried from the room and ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door. Picking up the one object that always brought her comfort, she settled down to read Heidi for the umpteenth time. The book would soothe her soul and make her better. Something had to.

  Long after her father went to bed, she sat up reading. She couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t continue to live with the man who had killed her William. She carefully packed only the essentials into a carpet bag she found, and she walked down the stairs. No, she’d find a way to live on her own. She did what she wished she could have talked William into doing six weeks before. She left, and she didn’t look back.

  Mary got off the train in Beckham, only a forty-five-minute train ride from her home. She looked around the station, watching people say goodbye and hug one another in greeting. How could they all act as if the world was still the same place it had been a month before? William was dead. Didn’t they know the world would never be good again?

  A gentle hand on her arm made her jump.

  “Are you all right?” The woman asking had blond hair and green eyes filled with concern. “Where are you going?”

  Mary shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “My name is Elizabeth Miller. Are you looking for work?”

  “I suppose I am.” Mary hadn’t really thought about how she’d earn a living.

  “My cook just married, and has left me without help. Do you cook?”

  Mary nodded. “I do. I enjoy cooking.”

  Miss Miller took her arm. “Come home with me. I have a nice room you can stay in, and you can be my new cook. All right?” Her voice was gentle, as if she was talking to a child.

  Mary followed along, shielding her eyes as they walked into the sunrise, not knowing what else to do. She needed someone to take care of her. There was no doubt about that.

  An hour later, she was settled in a cozy room that connected to the kitchen in the biggest house she’d ever seen. She unpacked her things without really looking around her. She didn’t care where she was or what she did. Her life was over. Why didn’t God just smite her now? There was no point in going on.

  After her first week of cooking for Miss Miller, the older woman sat her down to talk to her. “I have your first week’s wages here. I wondered how you’re liking your new position?”

  Mary shrugged. “It’s fine. I like to cook.” Truly, she didn’t care what she did. Her whole life was just a time of waiting to die. Without William, what as there to live for?

  “So you said.” Elizabeth frowned at her. “Did something happen to you? Are you all right?”

  Mary shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again. The only man I’ve ever loved died while he was building a life for me.”

  Elizabeth had seen grief before, but this girl’s grief was all-encompassing. She needed something to keep her going, and she needed it quickly. “I run a business here. Did you realize that?”

  Mary shook her head. She’d paid little attention to the comings and goings around her. She didn’t care about anything but doing her job—and mourning her William.

  Elizabeth tried again. “How would you like to add to your duties? I’d love it if you’d help me with my correspondence from time to time. I run a mail order bride agency, you see. And I have a newspaper that goes out monthly that I’m always needing help with. Are you any good with spelling?”

  Mary shrugged. “I’m passable.”

  “How would you feel about helping me then? I’d love to have a companion to help me as well as a cook.”

  “I suppose I can do that.” Not that she cared. How could she? William was gone. Forever. Nothing mattered at all.

  “I’m so glad. I’ve been needing someone.” Truthfully, she needed no help. She had Bernard, and he could do everything she needed. Mary was lost though, and Elizabeth had the ability to help her find herself again. At least she hoped she could. She found a stack of letters and gave them to Mary. “I’d appreciate it if you’d read through these and find the ones that are unmarriageable. Ones you think might have something wrong with them.”

  Mary looked down at the letters as if she had no idea where they came from. “All right. I can do that.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “Thank you, Miss Miller.”

  “Please, call me Elizabeth. We’re going to be working together, after all.”

  Mary nodded. “Together.” She repeated the word as if in a trance then looked down at the top letter in her hands. What did it matter what she did? William was dead.

  Chapter 3

  Beckham, Massachusetts 1896

  Mary hummed softly to the baby in her arms. Little Benjamin was the three-month-old son of Bernard and Elizabeth Tandy, formerly Elizabeth Miller. Mary was his primary caretaker, having left behind the job of cook. She felt a yearning deep inside her to have a child of her own. Could she ever make do with a man who wasn’t her William, though? Would any other man ever be good enough?

  She paced back and forth as the baby fell asleep in her arms, and she gently laid him in the cradle that had been hand-made by his grandfather for him. As soon as she set him down, she wandered back into Elizabeth’s office, rolling up her sleeves. “Let’s get through as much as we can before Benjamin wakes up again. He’s such a sweet baby.”

  Elizabeth eyed her employee, seeing something she’d never seen in her eyes before. It took her a minute to recognize it for what it was. Resolve. She had resolved the past and was ready to move on with her future. Without saying a word, Elizabeth handed half of her stack of letters to Mary. As she read through her half, she considered each man for her former cook and friend. Mary deserved love more than anyone she knew…and she was finally ready for it.

  Two weeks later, Elizabeth was nursing Benjamin as she flipped through the letters that had come in. She picked up one of them and read it over again. And then again. There was nothing special in the letter. It was from a farmer in South Dakota who needed a bride. So many letters said the same thing. But Elizabeth felt this was the one.

  She glanced across the room at Mary who was diligently proofreading the copy of the Grooms’ Gazette that would be going out the following week. “Mary, I found a letter I think you should consider.”
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  Mary frowned. “Do you think that there’s time to squeeze one more letter into the Gazette this week? I suppose we could go with a smaller type…”

  Elizabeth leaned forward earnestly, saying a silent prayer that Mary would listen to her. “Not for the Gazette…for you…”

  “Wait…what? Me? A mail order bride? You know I’ll never love again…”

  Elizabeth smiled softly, her eyes knowing. “I know you say that, but you already love again. You love little Benjamin with everything inside you. You need a child of your own, Mary. You can’t continue to live here. This isn’t where you’re meant to be!”

  Mary frowned, leaning back in her chair, stunned at the idea. She did want children, but… “I’m not sure I can marry, though. Would it be right to marry a man and not give him my heart?”

  “I worry about that too. This letter is your answer.” Elizabeth held it out, and after a long pause, Mary stood and walked across the room, taking it from her friend.

  “I’ll read it, but I’m not making any promises.” Mary looked down at the letter, frowning. How can Elizabeth think I can marry someone other than my William?

  My dear prospective bride,

  It is with great sorrow that I am penning this letter. I am a farmer in South Dakota, and I have worked hard for years to get to a point in life where I can support a wife and children. I am ready for a family, but I’m not ready to love. I may never love again.

  If you are between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two, are able to cook and keep house, and desire to have children, then I am looking for you, but please be aware that no love will ever be shared with you. I am incapable of loving.

  I am twenty-three years old, of passable looks, and am willing to work hard alongside a wife. If you are interested, please reply.

  B. Jones