A Bride for Wyatt

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by Barbara Goss




  A Bride for Wyatt

  Barbara Goss

  Copyright © 2019 Barbara Goss

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Cover Design: Virginia McKevett

  Audiobook Cover Design by Samantha Fury

  All Scripture is quoted from the King James version of the Holy Bible.

  All the characters described in this story are fictional. They are not based on any real persons, past or present. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and unintended.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  EPILOGUE

  Copyright © 2019 Barbara Goss

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Virginia McKevitt.

  All Scripture is quoted from the King James version of the Holy Bible.

  All the characters described in this story are fictional. They are not based on any real persons, past or present. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and unintended.

  Chapter One

  Wyatt Stone sat at his desk with his head in his hands. What had he been thinking to propose to Lucy Ames? Her beauty had blinded him, and he never saw her true character. How could he have been so deluded? He swore never to propose again, but how would he manage the farm without a wife?

  Clay came into the room and sighed. “C’mon, brother—snap out of it. She left six months ago and isn’t coming back. Get over it.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “I’m over Lucy. I’m upset because she hoodwinked me. What was I thinking to even contemplate marrying such a gorgeous woman? Like mother used to say, beauty is as beauty does.”

  Clay took a seat in front of the desk. “We all make mistakes.”

  “You didn’t. You have a lovely wife. Grace is perfect. She cooks, keeps your house spotless, and helps on the farm. You lucked out, Clay.”

  “You could try again. I heard Lucy and Leland are planning to marry and live in Kansas City.”

  “I have a farm to run. How can I look for a wife and manage the house, too?” Wyatt shook his head and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair.

  “You’re a good-looking man, Wyatt. You could get another wife quickly enough. Besides, my farm is right next door—Grace can continue to send over dinners whenever she can.”

  Grace was a gem, he was jealous of Clay just then, so he changed the subject. “How’s Father?” Since Clay was the oldest and had married first, their father, Milton, lived with him and Grace. He’d been an invalid since his stroke.

  “The same: listless, grouchy, and ornery.”

  “How can he be both listless and ornery? I’ll stop over after church on Sunday and try to cheer him up.”

  “When he isn’t listless he’s grouchy and ornery. You never know which Father you’ll see when you go to his room.”

  Wyatt pinched his temples and groaned. “Should I hire someone? A housekeeper?”

  “You should probably hire one until you marry.”

  “I’m not sure I want to go down that road again. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to watch your beloved fiancée run off with your best friend?”

  Clay shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try again.”

  Wyatt sighed. “I’m leery of it. Besides, there aren’t many single women around Hays. I don’t have time to leave the farm and hunt for one, either.”

  “Hey! Why not get a mail-order bride?”

  Wyatt held his hands up. “No way! I wouldn’t know what I was getting. Some desperate old maid, maybe.”

  “So, you want another beautiful woman?”

  “I’d like someone like Grace. She’s good looking, kind, dedicated, and loyal.”

  “I thought her rather plain when I met her, but as I got to know her and love her, she became lovelier and lovelier in my eyes.”

  “That’s what I want: a simple woman with a good heart. Where in the world would I find one?”

  Clay tapped his chin. “My friend, Glenn, married by proxy. He’s short and balding and didn’t want the bride to back out when she saw him, so he married by proxy. He was lucky because his bride turned out to be on the chunky side, and she was happy with his looks.”

  Wyatt hit the desk with his hand. “That’s a great idea. I don’t want the woman’s looks to influence my decision. Most gorgeous women like Lucy don’t need to be a mail-order bride. I think a lot of them are hopeless souls.”

  “And you want a hopeless soul?”

  “If she can cook and keep my house in order, yes.”

  “What about intimacy? You’ll want a family someday.”

  “It would come ... I hope.” Wyatt’s eyes grew large. “I know—I’ll correspond with the applicants for a few months first so I can get a feel for their characters before picking the one I want.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, but I’d hire a housekeeper until then.”

  “I’ll put an ad up at the post office.”

  Clay dragged his chair behind the desk to sit beside Wyatt. “I’ll help you write the letter for the Matrimonial News.”

  They worked on the letter for over an hour before coming up with the final draft:

  Honest, God-fearing man in Kansas desires a wife for companionship. She must be able to cook and keep house. Looks are not as important as the woman’s virtue. Widows who are childless or with one child are welcome to apply. The age range of the woman should be between nineteen and twenty-seven. A lengthy courtship via mail is desired before meeting. Wyatt Stone, Farmer. Hays, Kansas.

  ~~~***~~~

  Vera Marlow gripped the side of the sink, and held back a scream, and settled for tears of frustration instead. “I can’t take this anymore,” she cried.

  Her sister, Thea, entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong, Vera?”

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Thea put her arm around Vera. “I know, but you’re doing such a great job. Since Mother and Father died, you’ve held the nine of us together.”

  Vera shook her head. “I hate to act selfish, but what about my life? I’m twenty-five and have never even been courted. Is this going to be my life?”

  Thea squeezed her sister’s shoulders. “Let me help more. You always do everything yourself. I’m next in line at twenty-one.”

  Vera wiped her tears and faced Thea with a smile. “You’re so much prettier. You need to find a husband. I don’t want you to throw your life away either.”

  Thea tried to sound encouraging. “It won’t be for much longer since Georgia’s nineteen, Sam’s seventeen and working at the mill, Celeste is nearly fifteen, Finnian’s thirteen, Uma’s eleven, Portia’s nine, and little Perry will be seven next week. We all need to take turns running things. You’ve been in charge far too long. It’s my turn and then Georgia’s and so on.”

  “As frustrating as it is, I feel as the oldest it’s my responsibility,” Vera said.

  “You’d be pretty if you fixed yourself up. I know you could find a good husband,” Thea told her.

  Vera laughed. “And when would I have time to fix myself up and find a husband? I know: between cooking and laundry.”

  “That’s it!” Thea announced firmly. “I’m taking over first thing in the morning, and you will find a husband.”

  Vera laughed again. “Just like that? I’m an old maid. No one here in Oakville, Missouri, wants to marry an old maid. Most of the single men are younger than I am, besides.”
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br />   Thea tightened her hold on her sister’s shoulders. “I’ve an idea—Hannah Markham was thirty when she found her husband in the Matrimonial News.”

  “What in the world is the Matrimonial News?”

  “It’s a newspaper where men order brides. They write ads for the kind of woman they want. I’ll see if I can get a copy of one of those papers tomorrow.”

  Vera was about to reject the suggestion but something stopped her. What if she could really find a husband and a new life? Could she leave her family? Yes, She thought she could. A new life was just what she needed. She was tired, lonely, and in need of a change.

  Vera moved from her sister’s embrace and sank into a kitchen chair. “How would I know what I was getting from an ad?”

  “You could correspond for a while and maybe even swap photographs.”

  “No, I don’t want him to see me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You look haggard because you’ve been working so hard. I don’t plan on doing all the work myself around here. No, unlike you, I’m a delegator. Everyone will have a job.”

  “What if they don’t do the job right?” Vera asked.

  “That’s your biggest problem, Vera. You’re too controlling and too much of a perfectionist. It will work out just fine.”

  Vera and Thea pored over the Matrimonial News, laughing at some ads and circling others.

  Vera pointed out one ad. “I rather like this one. He sounds very practical and honest. He cares more about character than looks.”

  Thea pointed to another ad. “This one owns a business.”

  Vera kept her finger on the ad she liked. “I will answer this one. You know how insecure I am about my looks. This is the man I want to get to know.”

  “But Vera, he’s just a farmer—do you want to be a farmer’s wife? It’s a hard job.”

  “I’m used to hard work. I’ll make sure we don’t have nine children, though.”

  Thea sighed, but she circled the ad. “All right. Get out your stationary.”

  Vera and Wyatt exchanged letters for three months. Vera grew anxious each time a letter arrived from him. Her heart always beat faster as she read his well-written words. He seemed intelligent, and she felt drawn to him through his words. Was it possible to fall in love with someone through letters?

  They told each other about their lives, families, and interests. Vera liked that Wyatt was a Christian man, and he was close to his father and brother, which spoke volumes to her about his character. He liked music and long walks in the woods. He loved to sit and listen to the birds in the morning and watch the sunset each evening. He sounded so perfect for her.

  He admitted to having had a brief, prior betrothal that hadn’t worked out. His fiancée hadn’t been the right fit for a farmer’s wife, but was she? Vera thought she would be perfect.

  In her most recent letter from him, he’d suggested something that had made her heart swell in her chest and cause uncertainty at the same time: he wanted a proxy wedding.

  What did he look like? Would he like her looks? He’d told her that looks didn’t matter—was that because he was horrible-looking? She shook off her apprehension. Vera felt as if she were in love with Wyatt already, and he sounded just as smitten with her, so why should she worry?

  ~~~***~~~

  Wyatt paced the floor, holding Vera’s unopened letter in his hand. Had she responded to his suggestion that they marry by proxy? Would she agree? He was hesitant to read it. He’d be so disappointed if she didn’t agree or if his suggestion had offended her. She seemed perfect for him. Vera seemed honest, a good Christian woman who had taken care of her many siblings for years. She would make a fine farmer’s wife.

  The flow of her penmanship revealed a creative, passionate, and dedicated person, drawing him to her. If the letter were a disappointment, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He’d chosen her from a dozen other applicants—she just had to agree.

  He finally ripped open the seal and read the letter, smiling as he read her words—she’d agreed!

  His sister-in-law, Grace, stood in for Vera at the wedding, and Vera had written that her brother, Sam, had stood in for him. They were now officially, Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt Stone.

  ~~~***~~~

  The morning of Vera’s departure from Oakville, Thea fixed Vera’s long, brown hair into a puffy up-do allowing thin tendrils to curl down by her ears. She applied rice powder to her face to hide any shine, and used a blush—which she’d found in her mother’s old dresser—on her cheeks. Next, she mixed chimney soot with oil and carefully painted Vera’s eyelids. She stepped back and clapped her hands. “You’re gorgeous, Vera!”

  Vera gazed at her reflection in the mirror. “Goodness, Thea, that doesn’t even look like me. Take it all off!”

  “You’ll want to make a good first impression. Besides, there’s no time. Your train leaves in an hour, and you need to say goodbye to the children. I promised them you’d come home now and then to visit.”

  “I will. Of course, I will.” Vera stood and picked up her valise. “I hope my husband approves of me.”

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt lost his footing and fell from the barn’s loft days before Vera was to arrive. He fell flat on his face, broke his nose, and banged up his face badly. He broke his left arm as well. How was he to meet his new bride looking like a pugilist?

  Dr. Hall set his nose and his arm. He laughed and said, “This is the perfect test of love. If she doesn’t hop right back on the train after seeing you, it will be a perfect love match.”

  Wyatt had hired a housekeeper who agreed to stay on for a few days after Vera arrived to show her around. Now he had to hire a worker for the farm since he couldn’t do all the work himself with just one arm. Luckily, it was late fall and most of the crops had already been harvested and sold. Still, there was a lot to do to get the fields ready for spring. He felt fortunate that he’d had an excellent crop this year as well as the extra money to afford the help. Even so, meeting his bride for the first time couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

  Clay eagerly offered to meet Vera’s train and explain Wyatt’s predicament so she could prepare for when she’d meet him. Clay brought Grace with him to help welcome Vera into the family and explain what had happened to Wyatt.

  Clay and Grace stood on the station’s platform eagerly waiting to see what their new sister-in-law would be like.

  The train finally pulled in. They watched several elderly ladies step off before Vera finally did. They knew it was Wyatt’s wife for she looked lost and frightened, as she was jostled about by others who bumped into her as they made their way onto the train.

  Grace waved and caught her attention. She noticed Vera’s eyes as they traveled from Grace to Clay. Grace was sure Vera thought Clay was her new husband. She took Vera’s gloved hands in hers. “Welcome to Hays, Vera. I’m Wyatt’s sister-in-law, Grace, and this,” she pointed to her husband, “is Wyatt’s brother, Clay.”

  Vera smiled at them both. She looked around behind Clay. “Where’s Wyatt?”

  Clay grimaced. “He’s had a little accident. He lost his footing in the loft in the barn and broke his nose and arm in the fall. He’s still recuperating. He wanted us to greet you to prepare for meeting him in his delicate condition.”

  Vera’s hands flew to her face. “Oh, no! How horrid.”

  Grace studied Vera and said, “Actually, it’s a blessing. You aren’t ready to meet Wyatt yet, are you?”

  “Why, of course I am.” Vera gave her a confused look. “I tried to—”

  “Exactly!” Grace exclaimed. “You look lovely but far too stylish. Wyatt wants a more ... how shall I say ... a less citified wife. This is farm country, and most of the farmers’ wives don’t wear heavy makeup and puffy hairstyles. You want to fit in, don’t you?”

  “It was my sister’s idea,” Vera said. “What shall I do?”

  Grace took her arm. “You’ll come home with me, and I’ll make you look perfect for Wyatt.”

&nbs
p; Grace took down Vera’s inflated hairdo and put it in a tight bun pinned to the top of her head. She also washed Vera’s face to remove all traces of her makeup.

  “There,” Grace said. “You still look lovely but more like a farmer’s wife. You’ll fit right into the community.”

  “Thank you so much, Grace.” Vera looked at herself in the mirror. “I look more like myself this way, and I feel a lot more comfortable.”

  “Now, Clay’ll take you over to Wyatt’s farm, and you’ll get to meet him. He’s a wonderful man. You’ll be pleased. His farm is just down the road.”

  While Vera used the outhouse, Clay whispered to Grace, “That was brilliant. All Wyatt needed was to have seen a woman as lovely as Lucy, and wearing as much makeup. He wouldn’t have been pleased.”

  “I figure a woman in her position might think she’d have to look as good as possible. Little does she know that is far from what Wyatt wants or expects.”

  “How did you know she wasn’t a woman like Lucy?” Clay asked.

  “She wasn’t comfortable wearing the makeup. Her eyes were red from the soot, and when she put her hands to her face, she checked her gloves to be sure there was no soot or rouge on them. A woman used to wearing makeup would know exactly where to touch her face.”

  Clay pinched his wife’s cheek. “You’re a smart one, Mrs. Stone. I’m sure she’s as nervous as Wyatt is to meet, and she wanted to make the best presentation possible.”

  “I’m afraid it would have been the worst. She would have reminded him of Lucy.”

  ~~~***~~~

  Wyatt paced the floor, waiting for Clay to arrive with his wife. Where were they? When he heard the carriage come to a stop in front of the house, he ran to meet it, slicking down his hair as he went. He was eager to see Vera and hoped his colorful face—which had turned lovely shades of green and yellow—wouldn’t scare her away. Wyatt was still wearing a bandage on his nose and a plaster cast on his arm.

 

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