Mail Order Beau

by Maya Stirling

  "Our young sister can't be allowed to idle," declared Martha. "She needs to be kept busy."

  "The main thing that keeps her busy these days is those novels she reads," Cassie said with a tone of mild disapproval.

  "Idle hands are the plaything of the evil one," said Martha.

  Cassie cocked her head in resignation. "I think she'll run out of books to read soon enough."

  "The other day when we were in town at the mercantile, Mr. Brook seemed to take a very strong interest in her. He was very forthright about it. I almost had to say something to him."

  "You think his attention was unseemly?"

  "Not particularly. He just seemed surprisingly interested. Today, I almost got the impression he was disappointed Rachel wasn't with us."

  "I'm not familiar with Mr. Brook. He's new in town. I'm sure that Hettie already knows every detail of his personal history."

  "He seems very intent, and full of purpose. I have to say, he is a handsome young man."

  Cassie put down the knife she was using to peel a potato. "Do I detect a hint of personal interest Martha?"

  Martha felt her face color. "No! I was merely commenting on the qualities of Mr. Brook. He's a complete stranger. I don't know anything about him."

  Martha didn't mention the letter Hettie had given her. She knew that she'd have to give it a particularly detailed scrutiny. She found herself wondering what it might contain.

  Cassie furrowed her brows. "I do believe I have caught you thinking, my dear Martha," she joked.

  Martha waved a hand at Cassie. "Who's the matchmaker now? Please can we get back to preparing the food. Then I'll have to go find Rachel."

  After the meal, Martha went, alone, to the bedroom she shared with Rachel. By the light of a small candle she took the letters out of their hiding place. She made sure the door was secure, and settled down on the bed to read the letters.

  She untied the ribbon holding the letters together, and spread them out on the bed. They looked so ordinary, yet they potentially contained the answer to her own, and Rachel's, problem.

  She picked one envelope, noticing the neatness of the handwriting of the address. She drew out the small slip of good quality paper. The handwriting was orderly, and the words tightly formed. She began to read, squinting her eyes in the semi-darkness.

  To whom it may concern,

  I am writing in response to your announcement, in which you request written representations from someone who may possibly be considered as a husband to the fine young lady mentioned in that announcement.

  Martha paused. The man who had written this certainly had some form of education. Perhaps, in this case, too much. It was a amazing how much you could tell about someone from the kind of language they used in even the briefest of letters. She continued reading.

  While I may not at first appearance be deemed to be exactly the kind of man you are looking for, I do possess considerable assets, and therefore the ability to support a young wife. Although I myself am fifty five years of age...

  Martha stopped reading immediately. Fifty five years of age! She couldn't possibly consider someone that old for Rachel. He was old enough to be her father. The very thought made her shudder.

  She placed the letter down on the pillow. She wasn't even going to finish reading that one.

  She lifted up a few other envelopes, and drew out the letters. This time she wouldn't be fooled by the outward appearance of the writing on the envelope.

  She placed the letters together in a heap. She chose one based on the quality and texture of the paper. Martha suddenly had the thought that it was faintly ridiculous to choose a potential suitor based upon the texture of a piece of paper. But it seemed no more unusual than reading the ramblings of anonymous, unseen gentlemen who lived hundreds of miles away.

  She took the letter in her hand, and began to read.

  To whom it may concern,

  I am writing in response to the announcement for a husband which I have read today in our local newspaper. I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Cyrus Milton, aged twenty nine. My profession is that of tailor. I would like to move West. At the same time I am most desirous of finding a suitable wife to set up home with. I am established in my own business, which I would bring to your town, and fully able to support a wife. I am a man of high moral values who believes in the importance of family life.

  Martha pursed her lips. Perhaps Mr. Milton had some potential. Rachel needed someone with a stable profession. However, Martha needed to know more. She continued reading:

  My sister and I are desirous of finding a suitable place in which to settle with my new wife. My sister and I are very close, and we have always lived together, and shall continue to do so after my marriage to whomsoever finds, in me, someone who will be a suitable life companion. I am sure my new wife and sister will get along just fine, and settle down to a long life together with me as their ever present helper.

  Martha stopped reading again. What! Mr Milton lived with his sister, and expected his new wife to share her married life with his sister? Martha could hardly believe her eyes. What on earth did this...tailor think his sister was? If Rachel married such a man, she would become nothing more than a servant to a peculiar tailor, and his dependent sister.

  No!

  Martha threw the letter down in disgust. She looked at the remaining letters, wondering if they all contained similar nonsense. She didn't even want to read them. No wonder Hettie hadn't been able to find a good husband from such a crop.

  However she forced herself to continue. Of the dozen letters, none of them were free of some concern or complication, which either made Martha shudder or caused her to reject the writer of the letter on the grounds of unsuitability.

  Martha felt dispirited by the time she put down the last of the letters. Only one remained unread. She took up the letter from Mr. Brook which Hettie had given her. She weighed it in her hand. After having read so many unsuitable letters she wasn't sure she was ready to read this one. She wanted to trust Hettie's judgment; deep down she knew she could. She withdrew the note from the envelope. The handwriting was straight and regular, on clean, plain paper. Martha began to read:

  Dear Mrs Hettie Longfellow,

  I assume from what you have told me already that I am not being too familiar in using your first name. Be that as it may, I am writing to you regarding the matter about which we have already had some discussion.

  As you know, I am acting on behalf of the new owner of the Bar T ranch in a matter of potential matrimony.

  Martha stopped reading. He wasn't looking for a wife for himself? He was finding a wife for the new owner of the ranch just outside Sweetheart Falls!

  She continued reading, eager to know more:

  Truth be told, the man in whose employ I am currently engaged as foreman, cannot at present attend to this matter with his full attention. The taking over of the ranch from the previous owner has taken up a great deal of his attention. However, he realizes the importance of what he has asked me to help him with. I have agreed to do so.

  I can give you some details about my employer.

  He is twenty five years of age, in good health, and comes from a good family back East. By all accounts he is of pleasing appearance to anyone who may be a possible suitor. Having come out West in recent years with the intention of establishing himself in the ranching business, he has done exactly that, with considerable success. He is a man who has already achieved what he set out to do professionally, and now is looking to settle down with a fine wife of his choosing.

  He is able to provide materially for his new wife. As you know, anyone with the means to purchase a spread the size and quality of the Bar T needs to have substantial assets at his disposal. That is exactly the situation of my employer.

  He is a man of exceptional character; trustworthy nature; strong family values; supportive of those who mean much to him. You can ask any of the men who have worked for him these past years, a
nd they will tell you that there is no-one like him in these parts.

  He intends to settle in Sweetheart Falls, and contribute as much as he can to the life here.

  However, in order to do what he wants for the town, he also wants the wife of his choosing.

  He understands that this is an unusual way of introducing himself to a potential bride. Nevertheless, he has great trust in you, since your reputation in town is beyond reproach in the matters of matrimony.

  He is most eager to proceed as quickly as possible. Therefore, he has asked me to request a meeting with the possible bride at your earliest convenience. I myself will attend that meeting, and answer any questions about my employer that the young lady may have - and, of course, discuss any further matters with your good self.

  I look forward to your response and trust that I remain your most humble servant,

  Mr. Nathaniel Brook

  Martha's was aware that her lower lip had dropped, and her breath had momentarily stopped. She placed the letter down, slowly.

  What a contrast to the others this letter had been! Her heart was beating faster, and she felt great excitement. There was so much promise in the letter that she barely knew where to start.

  The unnamed ranch owner seemed unlike anyone she had heard of since arriving in Sweetheart Falls. It was almost too good to be true. His qualities were plain to see. She hadn't heard anything about him since he had only recently taken over the ranch. He'd never even been seen in town to her knowledge.

  Martha smiled when she thought about how wrong she had been. She had thought she herself had been the object of Mr. Brook's attentions. How silly she had been. Of course Martha knew that all three sisters were fine looking; but there was no denying that Rachel, with her blonde curls, oval face, shining blue eyes and fine figure was the most beautiful of the three of them.

  It hadn't been about Mr. Brook and his possible attraction to Rachel all along. He was merely working on behalf of his employer.

  However, why would his employer engage an assistant to carry out such an important task as finding a wife? Either the new ranch owner was too busy or too arrogant - neither of those possibilities pleased Martha.

  She decided that the next day she would contact Hettie, and arrange for a meeting with Mr Brook. In her new role as one of Hettie's matchmakers Martha would dig deeper, and find out some more from Mr. Brook. On the surface this was just what Rachel needed; a stable, safe home with a man who could provide for her. She could read all the novels she wanted, and leave the housework to the servants, which Martha had no doubt the rancher employed.

  She was sure that Rachel would be pleased at such a potential husband. Martha decided she wouldn't tell Rachel anything about the letter. It would be best to wait until after Martha had met with Mr. Brook. There were too many questions to be answered, and she didn't want to raise Rachel's expectations.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The meeting with Mr Brook was set up for late afternoon on the next day.

  Martha kept herself busy through the day, but her mind was filled with unanswered questions. She wondered just how much information Mr. Brook would divulge about his employer. Surely he would understand that in the matter of her sister's happiness, Martha would need more information. The most important issue would be deciding when Rachel could meet with her potential husband.

  Throughout the day, as they worked around the farm it was all Martha could do to keep her excitement in check. Every time she looked at Rachel she wanted to blurt out the news. Once or twice Rachel looked at her quizzically.

  By the time of the meeting Martha was relieved to get away.

  A short time later, she arrived by buckboard at Hettie's house, and knocked on the door.

  Hettie opened the door, greeting Martha with the warmest smile she had ever seen on Hettie's face.

  "Martha my dearest. How lovely to see you. I'm pleased you could come. Mr. Brook is already here, you'll be pleased to know," she said, guiding Martha into the drawing room.

  Mr. Brook was standing by the side of the sofa. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit. His cowboy boots looked faintly at odds with the elegance of his overall appearance.

  "Mr Brook, I believe you have already met Martha."

  "Indeed I have Hettie. However it's a pleasure to see you today Ma'am."

  "Please. Call me Martha."

  Mr Brook placed a hand to his chest. "Nathaniel."

  "Now that we have the introduction out of the way, can I ask you both if you'd like some tea?" Hettie asked, looking pleased.

  Martha looked questioningly at Nathaniel who seemed equally unsure. Hettie preempted their reply:

  "Of course you would. Who doesn't like afternoon tea. I'll be back in a moment."

  Hettie left them alone. The silence was awkward for a while. Then Nathaniel cleared his throat.

  "Did you have an opportunity to read the letter I wrote to Hettie."

  "Indeed I did. It was very interesting."

  "I hope that it contained all the information that would be needed to make a decision. Although I'm sure you have many questions."

  "I do. However I have to say I was very impressed by the letter. Your employer sounds like a very unique man."

  Nathaniel looked at Martha with with a slight frown. "There's not many like him. I admit that."

  "Is he not in town?" Martha asked.

  "He will be at the ranch tomorrow. He has been away these past weeks finalizing the transfer of the ownership of his other ranch in Colorado."

  "Is that where he has been since he came out West?"

  "Indeed. That is where he and I met. It's where he made such success for himself, and showed he has a natural talent for ranching. An unlikely thing considering his family background back East."

  "Really? And what was that?"

  "I believe his family were in banking?"

  "I see. That is quite a contrast."

  "But he is somehow able to take something new, and apply himself in such a way that he gets to the core of what is needed. That's an ability that most men don't possess."

  Martha frowned. "He sounds almost too good to be true."

  "Not quite. Like everyone he has his flaws. But I'll leave any discussion of those to him."

  "Oh please. Don't hold anything back. I came today to find out as much as I can about your employer. What is his name?"

  "I didn't say," Mr. Brook said firmly.

  He lowered his head, and there was an awkward silence in the room. Finally he continued: "I am under some quite specific instructions. One of those is to ensure discretion in this matter."

  "You are in Hettie's home. Discretion is a byword here," Martha assured him.

  "But I am trusting in your sensitivity to my employers' wishes." Mr. Brook leaned forward. "Can I trust you Martha?"

  Martha fixed Mr. Brook with a firm gaze. "Of course you can trust me," she said after a pause.

  Mr. Brook breathed a sigh. "That's fine."

  "You say he was a banker? He seems very young to have achieved so much."

  "He wasn't a banker as such. His father had an interest in a bank. His son, while understanding his duties as a son, had dreams of another kind of life."

  Martha felt a fluttering in the depths of her abdomen, but she ignored the sensation.

  "When his father passed away his son relinquished a large part of his inheritance, and took a portion of it, using it to pursue the life he preferred out here, in the West."

  "So he traded in a life of relative ease back East for the dream of being a rancher?"

  "Essentially, that is what he did - and with considerable success. Now he feels the time is right to settle down with a wife and children."

  Martha felt that she had learned enough for the moment to broach the subject of her sister's potential wedding to this intriguing ranch owner.

  "If I am to recommend your employer to my sister Rachel, as a potential husband, it behoves me to ask as many questions as I can think of. I'm sure
you'd agree with that, Mr.Brook."

  A puzzled expression suddenly came over Mr Brook's face. In fact, the entire color of his face changed to an almost ashen grey.

  Martha was disturbed at the transformation in the man's appearance. "Are you feeling ill Mr. Brook. You suddenly look unwell."

  Mr.Brook leaned back against the side of the sofa. He ran a hand through his thick hair, and turned his head away, looking towards the fireplace.

  Martha leaned forward, touching Mr. Brook on the arm. He started as if touched by something hot.

  "Are you alright Mr. Brook? Do you wish me to call Hettie?"

  Mr. Brook took a a deep breath. "There will be no need for that Ma'am. I am fine. It is just that we seem to have been talking at cross purposes."

  Martha frowned. "In what way."

  "I don't know how to say this, and to avoid offense." Mr. Brook looked away once again, took a deeper breath and sighed. "I may as well come straight out with it."

  Martha stiffened, leaning back.

  "It seems that some ambiguity has crept in to my communication with you. I thought my letter was plain and clear. Obviously that wasn't the case. You see, Ma"am, it is not your sister Rachel that my employer is interested in making his wife."

  Martha felt the color begin to drain from her own face. Mr Brook continued: "It is you he wishes to be his wife. Not your sister. He intends to ask for your own hand in matrimony."

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Me? He wants my hand in marriage? What can you possibly mean by this?" Martha demanded, her voice rising to an unfamiliar pitch.