Mail Order Meals

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Mail Order Meals Page 1

by Kirsten Osbourne




  Copyright © 2020 by Kirsten Osbourne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Gertrude Miller hurriedly added some fried chicken and potatoes onto a plate, before spooning green beans beside them. She did the same to a second plate and carried both out to the dining room of the diner in Beckham, Massachusetts, where she’d been working since she finished school.

  She rushed past a table with someone familiar sitting there, but she didn’t have time to stop and think about who it was. No, the table she was serving had made it very clear they wanted their food quickly. She put the plates on the table and smiled at the two men whom she knew worked at the bank just two doors away. “Can I get anything else for you gentlemen?” The two came in every single day, praising her cooking, but never making eye contact.

  Both of them shook their heads, carefully not looking at her, but Trudie was used to that. She was a member of the infamous demon horde after all, and no one was going to accidentally show interest in her. It was frustrating that she couldn’t live down her youth.

  Trudie walked to the table she’d passed before. “What can I get for you?”

  The man looked at her then, and she realized he was George, a boy she’d had a crush on in school. He smiled. “Hi, Trudie. Have you met my wife?”

  Trudie felt her heart fall in her chest. “No, I haven’t. I hadn’t even heard you were engaged!” Not that anyone would tell her anything like that. She was an outcast.

  “Yeah, your family isn’t exactly invited to a lot of public gatherings.” He shrugged, looking over at his pretty little wife. “Trudie was part of something we all called the demon horde. Her brothers and sisters would do anything to pull a prank. I remember one time her brother came up to me and offered me fifty cents to kiss her. I ran the other way.”

  His wife—a pretty little blonde—looked at Trudie with a superior look and giggled.

  Trudie gave a tight smile. “That’s me. The girl who needs to pay someone to kiss her. Do you know what you want?” All she could think about was escaping. She was mortified with the conversation.

  After they’d ordered, Trudie all but ran back to the kitchen. The other person working that day was the waitress, but Trudie usually tried to help out. As tears fell, she mumbled, “I’m going to stay in the kitchen today.” She knew she couldn’t go back out to the dining room. Not after what George had said and the way his oh-so-perfect wife had looked at her.

  Barbara put her arm around. “You okay?”

  Trudie nodded, swiping at the tears with her sleeve and settling in to cook some more. There was no way she was going to go out into the dining room ever again. Or at least until her tears had dried.

  DOUGLAS CHARLESTON walked into his house after a long day out on the ranch. He was dog tired, and he didn’t want to do anything but eat a hot supper and fall into bed for a week. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease his aching muscles.

  Instead, he walked into the house he’d built with his own two hands and sighed. No one was going to cook for him. If he wanted to eat, he’d have to scrounge something up for himself, and he hated cooking.

  He walked to the icebox and looked inside, and there was nothing but the milk and eggs he’d collected that morning. He sighed, not wanting to eat eggs for supper again, but it was pretty much the only thing he could cook. If you didn’t count the shells. When he cooked eggs there were always shells.

  He started a fire in the stove, and then put a skillet on it. He was pretty sure it was okay to cook in because he’d made eggs in it just that morning. Why would he wash it when he made the same thing in it over and over? When he cracked the eggs, he did a little better than usual, only getting a few small shells in the frying pan.

  While he ate, he looked at the newspaper he’d picked up in the nearest town, flipping through it to read a bit. Not that he much cared what was happening in the world around him. His heifers had started calving, and that meant he was too busy to figure anything out.

  He was just finished eating when he spotted an advertisement for mail-order brides. He thought for a moment before grabbing paper, pen, and inkwell. He dipped his pen and carefully wrote a letter asking for a bride. Hopefully, by the end of summer, he wouldn’t be having to cook for himself at all. He didn’t really care to have a wife. He just wanted the meals she could make.

  Why, he shouldn’t call her a wife at all. She was mail-order meals to him.

  TRUDIE HAD BEEN THINKING for weeks about what she should do about still being labeled one of the demon horde, and she’d finally come to a conclusion. She needed to see Elizabeth, her big sister, and get her to find her a husband. She was twenty-one already. Why, by her age, her ma had already had five children. She would never find a man in their area of Massachusetts, and though she enjoyed her job, she loved the idea of only cooking for one man for the rest of her life.

  It was a Wednesday in April when she walked to town, letting her family think she was off to work, but instead she went to Elizabeth’s house on Rock Creek Road. When she arrived, she went to the door and smiled at her brother-in-law Bernard when he invited her in.

  “Where’s Elizabeth?” she asked. She was always a little intimidated by Bernard, though she wasn’t certain why. He was a handsome man, but he seemed dangerous somehow.

  “In her office.” Bernard would have taken anyone else to Elizabeth’s office, but she was family. She knew where her sister worked.

  Trudie nodded and hurried down the hall, not bothering to knock as she walked into her sister’s office, which doubled as a parlor. “Elizabeth, I need you to marry me off to someone. I’d rather stay close to home, but I can’t wait another minute. Put me on a train this afternoon. Please!”

  Elizabeth’s grin told Trudie she’d been slightly melodramatic in her declaration, but she wasn’t going to let it worry her. “I do think I have a letter for you. I was going to show you at Sunday dinner, but I can see you’re not interested in waiting.”

  “Not at all. Please tell me he wants his wife delivered immediately.” Trudie plopped down on the sofa in a way she could only do with family. There was no point in her pretending to be a lady around Elizabeth. She certainly knew better. “Let me see the letter.”

  Elizabeth giggled. “You’re really ready, aren’t you?” She flipped through a pile of correspondence on her desk, finally choosing one of the letters there.

  “I am. Can I leave Friday? Saturday? This afternoon?”

  Instead of responding, Elizabeth handed her sister a letter.

  Trudie unfolded the paper and read it carefully.

  To whom it may concern:

  I’m hungry. I’ve been living alone on a ranch just outside Coyote, Colorado for years, and I’ve been cooking for myself all that time. Or you could say, I’ve been botching the meals I try to make. So far, I’ve mastered scrambled eggs, but only if I don’t mind shells in them. I’ve ruined a few pans trying to make bacon.

  I can’t keep existing on jerky and eggs. I swear I’m going to go insane if someone won’t marry me. I’m including a bank draft to cover her train ticket and the cost of travels, as we
ll as your fee. Please, by all that’s holy, send me a woman who can cook.

  I don’t care what she looks like. I don’t care if she is twenty years older than me. (I’m twenty-six, by the way.) I don’t even care if she can’t sew or clean. As long as I’m fed, I’ll be happy with her.

  Please don’t bother to write back. I want my mail-order meals immediately.

  Sincerely,

  Douglas Charleston, the hungriest man in all of Colorado, and probably the entire United States of America

  P. S. Please make sure she can cook!

  Trudie stared at the letter before a smile slowly grew. “He has a sense of humor. I want this one.” She knew she could fulfill his requirements, because she happened to be an outstanding cook, but more than that, she thought he just might be what she needed. Someone who knew how to laugh.

  “Are you sure you know how to cook?” Elizabeth asked.

  Trudie stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth, realizing her siblings really did bring out the worst in her. “I’ve never gotten eggshells in my scrambled eggs.” Elizabeth was consistently called the worst female cook in their family, and Trudie knew she was just teasing. That wasn’t to say Elizabeth wasn’t a good cook, because she was. They were simply from a family full of good cooks.

  Elizabeth grinned. “He sent more than enough money to send you out as soon as you want to go. I don’t think this afternoon is reasonable, but you could go tomorrow afternoon. Then you’d have time to say goodbye to the family.”

  Trudie tilted her head to one side. “It’s Wednesday. How about I leave Friday? I’ll go talk to Melvin after I leave here. I’ve got money saved, so I can buy some fabric and work on the train. Does he say how far he is from the nearest train station? Oh, and who is going to meet me at the station if I go right now?” Was it even feasible for her to go before the man was notified? Elizabeth knew all these things about mail-order brides, but Trudie didn’t.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “You could probably hire someone to take you out to his house. I’ve had brides do that before. I would say find the church in town and ask someone to take you to see him. He said the town is a whistle stop only.”

  Trudie knew that a whistle stop was a place where they stopped for a short while for people to get on and off. “I could do that. I’m going to hurry and talk to Mel. He deserves as much notice as I can give him.”

  “Yes, he does. All right. You go home, tell the family, and get everything ready. Stay here on Thursday night, and I’ll make sure you have a train ticket for Friday afternoon.”

  Trudie bit her lip. “Make it Saturday. Then I can work tomorrow and Friday and not feel so guilty about leaving poor Mel high and dry.” She’d been working for Mel for so long, it almost felt like she was betraying him by moving away and leaving her job.

  “Sounds smart. You just show up with what you’re taking, and you’re welcome whenever you want to come stay.”

  As Trudie left to go talk to the owner of the diner, she had a little skip in her step. That hungry guy wouldn’t know anything about the demon horde, and he wouldn’t know what hit him.

  TRUDIE’S MOTHER WASN’T at all surprised when she told her she was marrying a man in Colorado. “I’m going to have children to visit in every state and territory, once I get done raising the ones left at home.” She seemed sad, but understanding at the same time. Of course, she’d been down the road of sending a daughter off to marry before.

  Trudie smiled happily. “You will. I hope you’ll come soon.”

  “I can’t say soon, but I will come.” Her mother got to her feet. “Now let’s go look at what you have to take with you, and I’ll help you pack.”

  Trudie and her mother worked side by side, packing up an old carpet bag that had been left in a closet. Little Ida Mae, Trudie’s youngest sister, hurried into the room with them. “Where’s Trudie going?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  Trudie smiled at her sister. “I’m going to go to Colorado and marrying a rancher there.” Ida Mae wasn’t born yet when Susan had gone away to marry a newspaperman in Texas, but she’d ended up marrying a rancher.

  “I don’t want you to go. You’re my favorite sister.”

  “I’m too old to keep sharing a room with my little sisters,” Trudie said. “So, I’m going to go and be someone’s wife. I’m sure you’ll do the same someday.”

  “If you don’t stay, I’m going to put a toad in your bed!” Ida Mae yelled. She stomped her foot, and Trudie thought it was almost comical.

  Trudie just laughed. A toad wouldn’t bother her. She’d put plenty into Elizabeth and Susan’s bed. They wouldn’t be a problem at all. “I love you, Ida Mae, and I’ll write to you every week.”

  Ida Mae stomped her foot and ran from the room. Trudie sighed. “That girl is almost enough to make me feel bad.”

  “You can’t let this make you feel badly, Trudie. It’s time for you to be married with children of your own.”

  Trudie nodded, putting all of the little things she’d made over the years into a box. She’d have to purchase a trunk, and she was glad she’d worked so long. “Thanks, Ma. I love you.”

  “I love you too!”

  TRUDIE SPENT THURSDAY and Friday nights with Elizabeth, making sure she could easily get to work early. Her boss wasn’t taking it well that she was leaving, which made it so Mel would have to work in the kitchen again. He was rather ornery when he had to cook, and Trudie was happy to be leaving. No one wanted to work when Mel had to cook.

  On Saturday morning, Bernard and Elizabeth drove Trudie to the train station, leaving the baby with his nanny. Trudie’s trunk was in the back, and she couldn’t lift it herself, so Bernard helped her with it. Just before she hurried to get on her train, Elizabeth reminded her that if she got to Colorado and Douglas was hurtful in any way, she had to remember she had somewhere to go.

  Trudie smiled. “I know I do. I have many places I could go.” She hugged her sister tightly. “I hope to see you again one day.”

  “Make sure you write often.” Elizabeth said, wiping away a tear. “I do this often, but not with my own sisters. With you, it’s so much harder.”

  Trudie sniffled back a tear. “All right. I’ll write a lot.” And with those words, she hurried away to board the train. Finding a seat, she smiled at an older woman beside her.

  “Where are you headed, dear?” the woman asked, seemingly eager to start a conversation to help pass the time.

  “I’m going to build a new life. One that will be all mine, where no one will remember the misdeeds of my youth.” Trudie was unaware of how very solemn she sounded as she spoke.

  The older woman laughed softly. “Oh, dear. I’m sure there are so many misdeeds left in your youth. Don’t pack them all away now!”

  Thankfully, the woman sat beside her all the way to Chicago, where Trudie had to change trains. There were long days of talking and laughing together. Trudie would always be thankful that the older woman had helped her pass the time and keep her mind off what she was about to do. “I promise I’ll write to you, Mrs. Madison!”

  Mrs. Madison smiled and nodded. “I’ll look forward to those letters, dear!”

  There was no one to chat with on her next train, but Trudie took advantage of a two hour stop in a small town in Kansas where she found a place that sold baths. She wouldn’t be perfectly clean when she reached Colorado, but hopefully she wouldn’t smell like she’d been on a train for far too long!

  She boarded the train again, feeling clean. It was a good feeling after so long aboard a train, but unfortunately, the others on the train hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to bathe.

  There was a new young woman across from her, and Trudie was pleased. “Where are you headed?” she asked. Someone to while away the time with was all Trudie wanted in life at that moment.

  The young woman smiled softly. “I’m going to San Francisco. My parents are there. I just finished school.”

  “That’s wonderful. I can talk to you until we reach my sto
p in Colorado.” Trudie pulled out the new dress she was working on. “What’s your name?”

  “Leah Townsend. You?”

  “I’m Gertrude Miller, but please, call me Trudie.”

  The two chatted and slept all the way into Colorado. When the conductor called out that the next stop was Coyote, Colorado, Trudie began gathering her things. Her trunk was in a storage car at the back of the train, but that was just fine. Someone would unload it for her, and then she would find a way to go and see her future husband.

  She hugged Leah goodbye, promising to write. She’d collected new friends to write to everywhere she’d gone. Once she was off the train, she had the man in charge of luggage put her trunk on the platform, and she looked around to see if she could spot a church. The town was small and mostly quiet, but she saw a steeple.

  She hurried over to the ticket window and asked the man she found there to watch her trunk. He was doing little else other than reading something, so he nodded. “Sure. But if I get too busy, you’re on your own.”

  Trudie said nothing as she walked away from the man. Too busy, indeed! He was obviously occupied with what he wanted to do instead of what he should do. Men like that always irked her.

  She walked toward the church, as Elizabeth had instructed, and when she arrived there, she saw a parsonage attached to the church. She went there instead of to the church, expecting to find the preacher and his wife at their home.

  She knocked on the door and a middle-aged woman answered. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to marry Douglas Charleston, but I could use some help finding him.” Trudie worried that she sounded crazy, asking the woman to help her find the man she was supposed to marry. Who did that?

  The older woman frowned. “Does he know you’re coming?”

  “He knows someone is coming, but he doesn’t know it’s me.”

  “Let’s go find someone to run you out to the ranch then.” The woman stepped outside, closing her door behind her. “What’s your name?”

 

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