“I have so few memories of my family. No stylish uncles or aunts.” Magnolia fingered the silver locket she wore around her neck. “If it weren’t for the tintype inside this locket, I don’t know if I would remember my parents’ faces.”
Daisy opened her Bible and retrieved a picture of her family. “Now that I think about it, my uncle sketched this. I remember how hard it was for my brother and me to remain still while he worked.” She stared at her mother’s small oval face, similar to her own. “My siblings and I inherited our auburn hair and hazel eyes from our father. My mother’s hair was golden and her eyes blue.” Daisy wrapped a lock of hair around her finger. “She rolled my hair in rags every Saturday night, so I could wear it down for church.”
“Which explains at least partially why you still do so.” Magnolia shook her head. “Your hair is lovely and a rich shade of reddish-brown. If you’d let me trim a few locks to frame your face, it would be easier to style.” Magnolia ran her fingers through her thick curls. “Do you remember how hard it was to do anything with my hair before I began using the coconut oil mixture Mrs. Shelby made for me?” Her lips tightened into a thin line. “You don’t seem repulsed by that.”
“I wouldn’t know you used anything at all if I didn’t see you work it through your hair.” Daisy watched her friend pull a strand to measure the length. Once released, it sprang back into a coil. “I know you hate your curls, but everyone else finds them adorable.”
“Because you don’t have to deal with them on your head.” Magnolia wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it’s natural to want what we can’t have or never experienced. What I wouldn’t give to be able to brush my hair the way you do each night.”
“Nothing I do to my hair seems to matter. It’s simply straight.” Daisy ran a long strand of her auburn locks between her fingers. “I have to keep it wrapped in papers all night to achieve the resemblance of a curl.”
Magnolia’s brow furrowed. “Hair aside, why not write the man? Find out if you like what he says in his letters. Once you meet him in person, you might not mind his mustache at all.”
“Not likely.” Daisy shuddered.
“If you were basing your opinion on just what you know about him and didn’t know he had facial hair, would you write to him?”
Chapter 3
On obtaining true love…
“I like the way Shakespeare put it, ‘There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.’”
Miss Daisy Leah Murphy
David Taylor dusted his work pants with his hands and removed his jacket before entering the back door into the kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked bread and a hearty beef stew welcomed him.
His four-year-old niece grabbed the leg of his housekeeper. “There now, child, I’ll be back tomorrow.” Mrs. Miller removed the iron pot from the burner. “Remember what we talked about? You are going to eat a nice dinner, and Uncle David is going to read you and your brother a story.” Mrs. Miller smoothed the girl’s dark curls away from her face. “Before you know it, it will be time for bed. In the morning, when you wake up, I’ll be here.”
“We need to swing by the schoolhouse and pick up your brother and Mrs. Miller’s clan. You’ll like that.” David pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and patted his niece’s cheeks. “Hurry and get your coat.”
“She’s like a different child when she’s around other children.” Mrs. Miller spoke softly after Marigold left the room. “She’s still struggling with the loss of her parents and all the changes that came along with it. Although Marigold seldom speaks, I’ve seen improvements, especially these past six months. She’s going to be fine. These things take time.”
“Your being with her during the day certainly helps. I appreciate you making yourself available.” David glanced around the large kitchen. It was clean and bright but didn't seem homey. I wish I could remember what my mother did to make our home feel welcoming. He cleared his throat. “I’ll hitch up the wagon.”
The afternoon sun added warmth to the crisp air. David assisted his niece and Mrs. Miller onto the wagon with a backward glance at the sawmill. He had two more days to complete a large order and couldn’t afford to take the time away from his business. What other choice did he have? Mrs. Miller was an answer to prayer, even if it was only a temporary and part-time solution.
Shouts of laughter filled the schoolyard. David’s mouth lifted in response to his niece clapping her hands at the sight of Mrs. Miller’s son, Thomas, playing kick the can with their neighbors, Stephen and Bobby. Marigold squealed, then joined the children while they scrambled into the back.
Mrs. Miller’s six-year-old daughter, Betsy, settled next to Marigold and covered them both with a blanket. David’s soon-to-be seven-year-old nephew patted his shoulder roughly. Henry’s red hair and freckles were a bright contrast to the gray cover draped on his head. “Thanks for picking us up, Uncle David. Is it alright if we use these blankets for our shepherd costumes for the Christmas play?”
“Sure.” David glanced over his shoulder at the other boys who likewise were wrapping blankets on their heads. “I didn’t realize you had speaking parts.”
Henry scrunched his nose. “We don’t say much. But we’ve got to look like we take care of sheep.”
David grinned. “We’ll just find some branches and trim them to resemble staffs the same as we did last year, and you’ll be all set.”
“Since this is Texas, we should wear gunbelts with six-shooters. Or at least carry a bowie knife or a rifle like they did at the Alamo.” Henry tapped his head. “We could wear coonskin hats instead of blankets.”
“Since our pa’s a trapper, he’ll know how to make ’em.” Eight-year-old Stephen added.
Mrs. Miller’s mouth twitched. “He’d make a fine job of it, too. Since it’s so close to Christmas, he might not be able to make head coverings for all of you shepherds in time for the play.”
David's shoulders shook with mirth. “It’s probably best for you to dress similar to the way they did in Bible times. Though I understand your point, I don’t believe I would want to fight off wild animals with a slingshot and a large stick.”
Henry took a seat next to the other boys. “Hey, I just thought of something. Let’s ask our teacher if we can bring your shepherd pup to the play. He’s a herding dog, after all.”
The wagon wheels rattled. David turned off the main road onto a rocky path. He clucked at the horses and pulled to a stop in front of the Miller family’s sod home. “Thank you again, ma’am. I don’t know what I would do without your help. I’ll pick you and the children up in the morning.”
Mrs. Miller waved toward her newly replaced roof. “It’s the least I can do. You literally kept our ceiling from falling in, and the money you pay me goes a long way toward keeping these children clothed and fed. I’m the grateful one.”
David studied the sod home with one window. The base of the wall was wide, giving the small dwelling an unusual shape. Grass bricks stacked years ago grew to form a sturdy structure that was warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
The sound of a sable-colored shepherd the boys received the previous Christmas brought excited replies as they jumped from the wagon. The dog’s tail wagged back and forth.
“Uncle David, can we pet Angel for a minute?” Henry asked.
David shook his head at the name, then glanced at the hopeful faces of the children. His niece remained silent with clasped hands under her chin. Her dark eyes were hopeful. “All right, for just a minute, then we need to get back home.” David jumped from the wagon to assist Mrs. Miller. Betsy jumped into his arms, followed by a smiling Marigold.
Mrs. Miller retrieved her wicker basket from the wagon. “I want you to know I’ll help any way I can.” She positioned her hand in front of her mouth and whispered, “You and I both know you need a permanent solution. Have you heard any more news from the matchmaker back East?”
David rubbed the back of his neck. “I received a letter this morning from a woman who is
a friend of Mike Montgomery’s fiancée. She seems nice. If she’s anything like Mike’s gal, she’ll be perfect.”
“What people seem to be and what they are can be completely different.” Mrs. Miller gave a half-smile. “You don’t really know a person until you’re married for a while. Even then, the stress of life can cause us to react or do things we never thought we’d do. God’s the one who’ll see you through.”
“I sure hope God sends someone quick.” David posted his hands on his hips and watched the neighbor’s dog circle the children. They ran in the yard between the two homesteads. “I’m sure you do as well.”
“Even though Mr. Johnson is old-fashioned and doesn’t want me working outside the home once we marry, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about starting over.” Mrs. Miller nodded toward the thicket between her land and the neighbor’s. “Our marriage won’t be a love match like our first. It will be one built on mutual respect and a commitment to help each other meet the needs of our families.” A dimple appeared in his housekeeper’s thin face. She inclined her head toward her small home. “It doesn’t seem natural to be lonesome with a houseful of children. Mr. Johnson’s friendship has done a lot to lift my spirits.”
“When it was only me and all I had to worry about was getting the mill up and running and profitable, I was asleep almost before my head hit my pillow.” David blew out a breath. “Since I became responsible for Henry and Marigold, I can’t seem to turn my mind off at night.”
“You had a lot thrown on you at once, your brother’s and sister-in-law’s death, two grieving children and without a helpmate of your own.” Mrs. Miller patted his arm. “You and I’ve been praying for a solution. Seems to me God’s sent one by way of a letter. He’s also sent encouragement by way of Mike Montgomery and his intended.”
David pinched his nose. “I mean to answer her. Even so, I can’t help but think she’s getting the short end of the deal. She’ll be entering into a new marriage with a ready-made family. Why would she choose to do so?”
His housekeeper’s eyebrows narrowed. “Who better to understand than another who has walked a similar path? She may be able to relate to the children and reach Marigold in a way none of the rest of us have been able to do.”
“I didn’t tell you. I received another letter from the kids’ grandfather. He’s hired a lawyer and means to get my custody revoked.” David kicked the dust with his boots. “Perhaps he’s correct. Maybe I’m unfit to raise these kids.”
Chapter 4
On selecting a potential match to correspond with…
“The truth is, I immediately pictured a handsome deputy coming home to a white farmhouse with a wide front porch. Then I remembered how much I hate chickens, gardening, feeding livestock, milking cows and such.” - Miss Daisy Leah Murphy
David squinted at the morning sun inching its way along the horizon. After dropping the children at school, taking Mrs. Miller and Marigold to his house for the morning, and now returning to town, he’d already lost an hour of work. He increased his pace along the boardwalk.
A wooden signboard displaying Peter Marks, Attorney, swung from a chain directing him to his solicitor.
With a deep sigh, he pushed open the door and entered the office. His friend, Peter Marks, Jr., cut a dapper appearance in his stylish three-piece suit. The man, in his late twenties, offered a quick handshake and a tight smile.
“Thanks for stopping by this morning. Please come in and take a seat.”
David lowered himself into a soft leather chair. He blinked while his eyes became accustomed to the dark paneled walls and shuffled his feet across the thick carpet.
Peter perched on the side of his desk and reached for a document. “You already know your late sister-in-law's father is a man of wealth and prominence, who never approved of her marriage to your brother. His lawyer sent word of upcoming legal proceedings, stating Texas remains too untamed to raise young children in. He references the death of their parents as proof.”
“In some ways, I agree with him. But I know my sister-in-law’s childhood wasn’t a happy one. She hated boarding school. That’s why she and my brother appointed me guardian. They wanted the children to grow up here with me.”
The attorney’s tight jaw mimicked the feeling in his gut. “Even though you refused Mr. Fuller’s offer to—” Peter cleared his throat, “—reimburse you for your trouble and surrender your custody to him. We know he isn’t a man to give up easily. The problem is—the court could decide either way. Even though you have a nice home, a business, and a housekeeper to help you care for the children.”
David scowled. “Mrs. Miller is remarrying. I won’t have her help much longer.”
His attorney rose and paced behind his desk. “Their grandfather is wealthy and employs a housekeeper and support staff who could rival most. While we have in writing the desire of their parents for the children to remain with you, you’re still a single man. The one thing that would make you more appealing in the court's judgment is a wife. Have you given any more thought to the matchmaking agency our pastor recommended?”
David reached into his vest pocket and extended an envelope to his attorney. “I received more correspondence from a friend of Mike Montgomery’s fiancée. She seems almost too good to be true.”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. He opened the envelope and retrieved a tintype of a young woman with dark eyes and hair. “Her expression is pleasant. Something in her smile seems almost mischievous. She’s lovely.”
David nodded. “I thought the same thing. It made me wonder what is wrong with the young men back east.”
“My understanding is most of them are heading west. Which is fortunate for you in this instance.” Peter chuckled. “May I read it?”
David nodded. “Mike mentioned his gal and Miss Murphy were both teachers at the orphanage. They’ve known each other for years. The gal knows I’m raising my niece and nephew and wrote anyway.”
Peter’s mouth twitched. “Her hobbies are reading and sketching. Her favorite author is Shakespeare. Are you familiar with any of his work?”
“Nope.” David rubbed his chin. “Of course, I can’t think of the last time I read for pleasure. It’s all I can do to get a little bit of Bible reading in every day. In the evenings, I read to the children from a storybook their grandfather sent last Christmas.”
“She seems complex.” Peter’s mouth moved while he read.
“What do you mean?” David joined Peter and read the paragraph.
Our school has a wide range of students at different reading levels. Our youngest is five and the oldest sixteen. My favorite subjects to teach are math and science. I am especially fond of geometry.
Peter stiffened his back. “I didn’t mean to cause you concern. She seems to know her mind. At first, I thought she might be a hopeless romantic. However, the fact Miss Murphy enjoys math and science reminds me of my friend, Rebecca. Her skills could come in handy, and she might enjoy taking over your bookkeeping.”
“I don’t need assistance with my business. All I want is someone who will love and take care of the children. Even though she’s made progress, Marigold requires a lot of attention. I’ll even keep paying a housekeeper if she wants.” David pointed at the next paragraph and read.
The children’s home runs methodically, everyone sharing the work. Since I arrived fifteen years ago, I’ve spent many hours taking care of little ones, cleaning, washing, cooking and working in the garden. The orphanage has several acres of vegetables. While I admit gardening and taking care of livestock are not my favorite things to do, the harvest it provides allows us not to be dependent on the generosity of others for our meals.
“She probably went hungry.” Peter tapped his forehead. “I recall reading yellow fever killed thousands of people living in Memphis, and more than half of the residents left town. The effects caused the city to declare bankruptcy at one point.”
“I can’t imagine going through something like that. I’m not one
for digging in the dirt, but if it helps relieve Miss Murphy’s mind, I’ll make sure she has a spot for a garden of her own. There’s a chicken coop in the back, which wouldn’t require much for me to repair. I’d need to buy some chicks for her.” David ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll mention the idea when I write her back.”
Peter resumed his pacing. “I don’t think you have the benefit of time on your side. As your attorney, I suggest we telegraph the woman who runs the matchmaking service and see if we can get Miss Murphy to agree to marriage by proxy.”
“Proxy?” David’s brow furrowed.
Peter nodded. “Don’t look so scandalized. While most traditional marriages have both the bride and groom present on their wedding day, a marriage by proxy has been in existence for hundreds of years. Famous people in history like Marie Antionette and Napoleon Bonaparte were joined in the same manner.”
“If my memory serves me correctly, neither of those lives ended on a happy note.” David crossed his arms.
“True enough. However, their infamous demise had more to do with revolution and treason.” Peter’s eyebrows drew together, then he examined the tintype and returned it to the envelope. “Perhaps it was a poor example. I only meant to convey that the wedding is performed despite the fact one or both parties are not physically available. In other words, someone will stand in for you during the ceremony.”
“Let’s suppose Miss Murphy would agree to such a thing. You’re saying the court would recognize it as a legal marriage?”
“Even though the event will be performed at a separate place and time, you will be legally married. This will weaken the children’s grandfather’s petition. I can’t imagine a court which would take two children from a married couple to send them to a cranky old man who is going to ship them off to boarding school.” His friend returned the correspondence to him.
A Bride for David Page 2
