by Vivi Holt
“We’re so pleased to meet you, Ramona. You just make yourself at home here, we’ll stay out of your way. This is your home now, and you’re mighty welcome in it,” said Mary, grasping Ramona’s hand once more, her bright eyes twinkling.
“Thank you Mary.”
“Come now, I’ll show you to your room,” said Michael, leading the way.
As he showed her to the spare bedroom, Michael made a vow to himself not to give up on her too quickly. Perhaps I can prove that I am good enough to be her husband, he thought, showing Ramona to her bedroom as he placed her satin bag down at the base of the four poster bed.
“She’s all set then?” Mary appeared behind Michael and followed him out of Ramona’s room and down the hall.
“Yes. And I really want to thank you and Fred for staying here with us.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Nothin’ to it Mike, we’re delighted to do it.” Fred was seated in the living room back in front of the fire reading a book.
“The house is lovely, by the way,” said Mary, sitting down beside Fred on a wooden chair that Michael had whittled from a leftover piece of oak.
“Thank you kindly. I’m very happy with it. I just hope Ramona will be content here, too.”
“Of course she will be. What more could any woman want?” Mary smiled warmly at him, and picked up a half-finished shawl she was knitting.
Michael snuck down the hallway five minutes later to say goodnight to Ramona and to see if she needed anything else, but Ramona had already fallen to sleep. The rhythmic sound of her breathing drifted out to him through the open door, and he pulled it closed behind him with a smile. As he strode toward his own bedroom, he couldn’t help wondering what the future might be like, and hoped that his days of loneliness were finally over.
The next morning, Michael was summoned to the front door by a loud knocking. Then Tony’s voice bellowed loudly through the house. “Michael! Come on. We’re going to be late for work.”
Michael hurried to the door, pulling on his boots as he went.
“Shhh,” he said. “Ramona’s sleeping. She’s exhausted. I’m running late ‘cause I was creeping around, trying to be real quiet so as not to wake her.”
Tony shook his head and tutted.
Walking to the construction site, Tony had plenty to say. “She’s already got you under her spell. I hope you ain’t gonna make a habit of being late. I see she’s the sort of princess type that likes to lay around all day long. I won’t say I told you so, but.”
“Go easy Tony. It’s only her first morning after a long trip.”
“So, she’s not a princess then?”
Michael paused before he spoke.
“She wears her hair in this real modern style,” Michael commented. “People around here might think it’s too modern.” In fact he was worried they would think Ramona was too modern, all round.
“I told you so,” Tony said pointedly. “Those New York women, they ain’t got no place around here.” He lowered his voice. “And she’s foreign on top of all that, ain’t she?”
“Italian parents,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Like you, Tony. She was born and raised in New York. But none of that matters a jot to me anyhow.”
“I’ll say it again. You should wait for a good old-fashioned pioneering woman. Someone used to the frontier life. That’s what I’m fixin’ to do. It won’t be long before this town is crawling with women. And a handsome man like yourself ain’t gonna have any trouble finding a sweet, practical woman to marry. You don’t need a fancy New York type. She’ll be of no earthly use at all. Mark my words.”
Michael didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to think that Tony had a valid point. He wasn’t sure Ramona would ever really fit here. He couldn’t imagine her raising babies, washing laundry, baking and doing all the things that a pioneer woman had to do just to get by each day. It was a grueling life, and Ramona didn’t look as though she knew much about hard work. Michael had never met a woman like her before. Not in Texas, anyway. Maybe that’s how they all are in New York City, but around here she is going to stand out like a sore thumb.
Not that Michael hadn’t already noticed the way that the other men in town stopped and stared when Ramona passed by. As they rode home in the wagon the previous evening, men had paused in the street, taken their hats off and stared.
He pondered the situation all day long while they worked in the heat of the Texas sun. Walking home that evening, he wondered whether he should just ask her outright what she planned on doing.
I’ll talk to her tonight. I need to find out why Ramona came to Texas, and if she still intends to become my wife. I need to find out if she really means to marry me.
8
Ramona
When Ramona awoke the next morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Looking around the room, it all came rushing back to her. She was at Michael’s house, in Austin, Texas. The morning light poured through the window, already bringing with it the promise of a warm winter’s day. The bed she lay in looked as though it had been hewn by hand from a thick log, wooden nails held each piece in place. The straw tick rustled beneath her, and she could smell the freshly dried grasses through the linens. A hand-whittled rocker sat beside the bed, with an extra crocheted blanket spread over one arm. A rustic vase, made of clay and filled with fresh flowers, sat gaily on a small table against the wall. Ramona sighed with pleasure. The room really was very homely. She tried to remember what the rest of the house had looked like, but it had been so late when she’d arrived the previous night and she’d been so exhausted, she couldn’t recall much about it.
Ramona crept down the stairs. The house was very quiet. She noticed that the rest of Michael’s home matched her room nicely. Hand hewn and whittled furniture decorated each room. The living room held a roaring fire in a large fireplace on one wall, and the open area led into a snug kitchen and pantry. From there, Ramona could see a door that appeared to open out into a back yard. There were a few things that a woman’s touch could add to the home, such as window dressings and rugs, but overall the house felt inviting and comfortable. She saw Mary, sitting by the fire, darning a pair of pants.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” replied Mary, standing to her feet and making her way into the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, we would have waited for you to eat breakfast, but we weren’t sure when you might want to get up. You had a long journey to recover from. The men have already eaten and gone to work, so we have the house to ourselves,” said Mary, hurrying to get Ramona a plate.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to wait. I can’t believe how late I slept. I was so tired, and that bedroom is really very comfortable.”
“Michael made all the furniture himself. He’s got quite the knack for it,” said Mary, handing Ramona a plate piled high with eggs, and a slice of bread covered with butter and jam.
“Wow, he has a talent, that’s for sure.” Ramona walked to the table and sat down to eat. Mary sat across from her, the knitting still in her hands.
“Thank you. This is delicious,” Ramona bit hungrily into the bread. She was famished after so many days of travelling.
“You’re most welcome. I’ll show you around today, and when Michael and Fred come home from working on the new State Capitol tonight, maybe we can have dinner waiting for them. What do you say?”
“That sounds great,” said Ramona, wondering how she was going to find her mother if she was going to be stuck in the house all day, every day, while Michael was at work.
I’ll just have to find a way. Perhaps I can borrow the wagon. I’ll have to earn his trust, so that he lets me take it out on my own. But how I wish I could just go to her now. Still, it is very cozy here, and they have all been so very welcoming. It won’t be the worst thing to stay here a bit until I can get my bearings and figure out where Mother is.
When Michael and Fred came home from work that evening, he s
eemed to be in a pensive mood. Ramona watched him closely; he was even quieter than he had been the previous evening. Mary and Ramona bustled about the small kitchen, cooking fried bacon, cornbread and buttermilk for supper. Mary showed Ramona where everything was located while they worked, and the two of them chatted happily together.
Michael and Fred sat together by the fire, stoking it occasionally while Fred puffed on a pipe.
“How’s the building coming along?” Mary called to them both, from the kitchen.
“Fine. It’ll be another couple of years, they tell us,” said Michael.
“Phew! That structure’s going to be something, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
Ramona listened intently to the exchange, hoping to get some further insight into what Michael was like. The moment he’d walked in the door after work she had felt her pulse quicken. There was something about him that made her nervous, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to be nearer to him. He had such a gentleness about him, and seemed to consider her feelings in everything he said and did. She could already see the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her.
Forget about Michael. I’m here to fetch Mother. I have to focus on finding out when he can take me to the University. After Mother and I return to New York I won’t ever see him again, so there’s no use in thinking about him. I need to just get him out of my head.
“Come and get it!” called Mary, breaking through Ramona’s reverie. Ramona removed her apron and wiped her hands clean before carrying plates to the table.
The men made their way to the kitchen, Fred cleaning his pipe out first. As Michael took his seat, his arm brushed against Ramona’s, sending a wave of tingles through her body. She started and looked up at him in surprise, wondering whether he had felt it too. His green eyes were staring at her quizzically, as though he were trying to read her thoughts.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said politely as he removed his hat and sat down.
“Did you have a nice day?” asked Ramona. Her voice was uncharacteristically low.
“Thank you, I did. And you?”
The way he watched her made her squirm with pleasure. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. Ramona nodded.
“Yes, thank you.”
They barely spoke for the rest of the evening. Fred and Mary exchanged concerned glances. Fred shook his head at Mary, and she smiled pityingly at the two of them.
“There’s chemistry there no doubt,” she whispered to Fred, “but they’re each too afraid to speak to the other. I guess that will change with time.”
“It’d better,” remarked Fred.
9
Michael
Michael had every intention of bringing up the topic of the wedding the following day. He’d lost his nerve the previous evening when his arm had brushed against Ramona’s sending a jolt through his body. He’d felt as though his throat would close up entirely, but he was determined to find out where Ramona stood on the subject before work. When morning came and Ramona bounced down the stairs, looking glamorous and cosmopolitan, he lost his nerve once more and instead busied himself buttering a piece of bread.
This afternoon. After work. I’ll speak with her then. It would be too hurried a conversation to have it now. No - afternoon is a much better time to talk.
When Michael got home from work that afternoon, Ramona wasn’t there. Mary told him she’d taken a walk.
“By herself?” asked Michael.
“She insisted.”
“But she doesn’t know her way around.”
Mary simply shook her head.
It wasn’t long before Ramona returned, slipping off her hat and smoothing back her hair as she greeted him at the door. Once she had cleaned up and settled herself in the sitting room, Michael attempted to engage Ramona in conversation. But try as he might, she was constantly distracted, looking out the front window to the busy street beyond. It was as though she were searching for something, but for the life of him, Michael couldn’t figure out what it could be.
When she wasn’t distracted, she was chatty. Far chattier than any other woman Michael had ever met, and about a hundred times more talkative then he was. He didn’t mind it so much in a way — he realized that if Ramona hadn’t been so talkative and the conversation were left to him to spark there might well have been a constant silence between them. Generally he was glad that the pressure to carry a dialogue hadn’t been left up to him. However, in this particular instance he was trying to get up the nerve and find an opportunity to broach the subject of the wedding.
He watched her as she chattered away, noticing the slope of her creamy neck beneath the thick curls of her dark hair. The way she bit her plump, red bottom lip, ever so gently, when she paused to consider her next statement. He felt perspiration forming on his forehead and his heart was racing. How would he ever get the words out?
The following evening Ramona was unusually quiet. Michael thought it might finally be his opportunity to speak with her privately. Mary and Fred were sitting together in the living room discussing an upcoming church picnic, and Ramona sat off to one side on her own. He cleared his throat and joined her by the front window, which was fast becoming her favorite place to sit.
“I like to watch what the people out there are up to,” Ramona answered when he asked her why she liked the spot so much.
“Ramona…” Michael began, “are you, are you still happy with our…” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he tried to force the words out, “arrangement? You’re not disappointed in me, are you? I know sometimes these things can be awkward.”
Ramona laughed a little, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Do you mean us getting married?”
“Well, yes. Actually, I was just wondering if you, when you might want to. Get married, that is.”
Ramona raised one eyebrow, looking confused.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
She hasn’t thought about it? It’s all I can think of. How can a woman travel across the country to marry a man, and when she arrives – not think about the wedding?
“What’s going on Ramona?”
Ramona’s eyes flitted across the kitchen floorboards. Her discomfort was evident.
“Please,” Michael said quietly. “Tell me the truth. Why are you really here?”
Ramona sighed, and pulled at a stray thread on her skirt, refusing to meet his gaze.
“I’m here to find my mother.” Ramona turned her head back toward the window and stared off into the distance.
“Your mother?”
Ramona nodded. She kept watching people walking by the house through the window. Finally she met Michael’s eyes with her own.
“Mother is here, somewhere in Austin. That’s all I know.”
“So that’s why you came here? That’s why you chose me?” He was barely able to shield the disappointment in his voice. It’s all starting to make sense now. A woman as beautiful and glamorous as Ramona would never choose to marry a stranger in a pioneering town.
Michael spun on his heel and strode into the kitchen. Ramona rushed after him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Michael heard the genuine distress in her voice.
“I never thought, oh, when the lady said I could be sent to Austin to marry a man, I guess I never really thought about the man on the other end. That he would be real. And sweet and kind like you are. I never had any intention of hurting you. I’m sorry if I have.”
Michael lowered himself into a chair at the dining table, and Ramona slumped into a matching chair opposite him. She took a deep breath and told Michael the entire story. She started with her father’s debts and the way he took his own life, and ended with her mother running away to Texas to marry a man Ramona had never met.
She leaned forward and gently placed a hand on Michael’s arm. He stared down at it in astonishment, catching his breath at her touch.
“Michael, I’m sorry th
at I’ve used you. And most of all I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the start. I was just so desperate to find Mother. I wasn’t thinking about anything else. Or anyone else.”
She withdrew her hand and Michael felt he could breathe again.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “I know what it’s like to lose someone. I’m awful sorry for everything that’s happened to you Ramona. I had no idea. I don’t judge you for what you’ve done. I want you to know that. But I will tell you that I’m disappointed.”
Ramona managed a little smile. “You are such a kind man. I can’t see why you would need to use a mail order bride service in the first place! I’m sure woman around here would be queuing up to marry you!”
Michael blushed and cleared his throat. “There aren’t many woman around here like you Ramona. I thought, well, I was still thinking actually, I know you’re here to find your mother and all, but if you wanted I could still, I mean, we could still get married.”
Ramona leaned back in her chair, away from him, and her face dropped.
“Never mind.” Michael shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. It’s all right Ramona. Just forget the whole thing.”
“Michael.”
“It’s fine.” He managed to force a bright smile. “I’ll help you find your mother and then you can go home.”
Ramona looked at him quizzically. “Do you mean it, Michael?”
“Sure. I can help you find her. I know this town well. If your mother is in Austin, I’ll be able to figure where she’s at.”
“You really are a kind man Michael. Much kinder than I deserve.”
10
Ramona
Ramona felt renewed when she woke up. Reaching for the window, she pushed her head through the opening and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. The straw tick crunched pleasantly beneath her. She noticed that the flowers in the vase were now limp and turning brown.
