He thought for a moment and then decided to join the gentleman in the pastor's office. He might need to learn about child care in future, but right now he would leave this in the capable hands of the women.
For the first time since his brother had proposed the scheme months ago, Chip was actually looking forward to the idea of being married. Up until now, he had merely been resigned to the concept, pretty much following his brother's orders as he had much of his life.
Of course he was in charge of the mill, so knew what it was to be in command. But force of habit from his childhood and lack of any stronger feelings about the subject had prevented him from providing more than token objections when the original scheme had been proposed. After all, it had seemed a logical solution to his problem. He was so busy at the sawmill and lumber yard that he didn't have time to worry about courting.
Besides which, he knew most of the girls and women of suitable age from his years at school, and could not imagine spending his life with any of them. Most of those he would have considered the “good ones" had long since found husbands. Grinning and whistling he strode into Pastor Joe's office, to find the two men seated, glaring at him.
Well, all right, the pastor wasn't glaring at him just looking with a great deal of curiosity. But, oh, yes, his dear brother Sylvester was glaring hard enough for both of them.
Mrs. Richardson
Mrs. Richardson was a lovely woman, warm and inviting. Although her children were grown she maintained a full range of supplies for infants and toddlers, never knowing what might be needed when physical concerns were more pressing than pastoral. A church remained a place of refuge in the eyes of even the non-believers, and hungry children needed food and clothing whether or not they or their parents had been baptized.
Samantha had not been a particularly fussy baby and remained of sunny disposition in most instances. She was delighted with Mrs. Richardson, who reminded her of her grandmother. “Gamma!” she declared.
Celeste had given an abbreviated explanation of why she had arrived on her sister's ticket, child in hand, electing not to share more details of the letter writing confusion, as that was really something her sister would need to work out. She only hoped Miranda was on her way. It all sounded a bit havey-cavey to Mrs. Richardson, but for that precious little bundle, she was willing to overlook a few irregularities.
“But the most important thing is that there will be no wedding today! I am not the intended bride and have no intention of defrauding my own sister of her nuptials!”
“I can quite see that it would be most inappropriate to carry on with the ceremony when you are not even the woman listed in the register,” agreed Mrs. Richardson. “You say your intention is to look for work in town?”
“That’s right. I’m a hard worker and have learned a number of skills over the years. Surely one of them would be useful to someone else. I’m sure I could help in a store, for instance. I am good with keeping books and counting money. And although I admit I would have much to learn about housekeeping, I think I’d be good with childcare,” mused Celeste as she finished cleaning and redressing Samantha.
“If you could show me where I can empty this diaper and wash it, I would be most grateful, as I’m sure would be both our noses!”
Mrs. Richardson laughed. She rather liked this spunky woman despite her odd tale. Surely the mother of a sweetheart like Samantha couldn’t have evil intentions. She clearly was not trying to take advantage; even though she admitted to the theft of the ticket, she had offered to reimburse Chip for its value as soon as she had a job, and seemed sincere in her desire to obtain one.
Attending to the final details of Samantha’s toilette, and cleaning up, the women adjourned to the kitchen where Mrs. Richardson handed Celeste the erstwhile requested water, and then offered to make some tea. Not wishing to abuse her hospitality, Celeste tried to decline, but the lighting up of her eyes at the initial offer had Mrs. Richardson putting the kettle on to boil.
It was soon evident that no further information would be forthcoming from Celeste. She was amazingly tightlipped about any tale not her own, and rather reticent about herself, although Mrs. Richardson sensed a frailty or hurting in the occasional sadness and wistfulness that scampered across her face as the ladies socialized.
Samantha had dropped off to sleep in her mother’s arms and was tucked into the buggy back in the bedroom. Concerned that her daughter might awaken and be disoriented, Celeste was assured the door would remain open so any sounds would be heard across the small courtyard between the house and church. And a tin pan and wooden spoon were left at the threshold. Celeste agreed Samantha would be unlikely to resist banging the two together should she awaken.
“But why don’t we just wheel her closer, perhaps into the hall where our voices won’t disturb her but we could hear her?” The pan and spoon were put into the carriage as an extra measure and they walked across the yard to join the men. Dropping a kiss on her sleeping daughter’s brow, Celeste followed Mrs. Richardson into her husband’s office.
CHAPTER 4 – Sylvester
Explanations
“Why on earth did you tell her?” demanded Sylvester.
“You couldn’t possibly expect me to begin my marriage with a lie. Besides, I was never more than half sold on this notion anyway,” retorted Chip.
“So, let me get this straight,” interposes Pastor Joe. “Sylvester wanted you, Chip, to get married, and he set about finding you a mail-order bride. He even wrote the letters for you.”
Chip nodded.
“And how did you feel about that?”
“Well, to be honest, I had mixed emotions. Part of me has always wanted to find a wife and have a family. But, not to disparage the local ladies, those I would have, wouldn’t have me, and those that wanted me, I didn’t want.” He grinned unrepentantly. “I imagine good discrimination was shown on both sides of that fence.”
Sylvester rolled his eyes, but the pastor laughed appreciatively.
“Well before you offered to marry her and sent her a ticket to get here, had you at least formed some sort of attachment based on the letters, even if your brother helped write them?”
Chip snorted, then had the grace to look apologetically at the pastor, avoiding his brother’s gaze entirely.
“That’s the whole thing. I didn’t write the letters. I didn’t help write the letters. I didn’t even read the letters, hers or mine. And I never offered to marry her nor sent a ticket. Sylvester handled all of that.” And now he did turn to stare at his brother. “And from the things he said about her, I got the definite impression he had formed a tendre for the lady with whom he was corresponding.”
Sylvester colored a bit and proffered a sheepish grin. “I must admit I thought she was particularly intelligent and that it would be a pleasure to visit my new sister-in-law for conversation.”
Chip barely managed to restrain his snort this time, but it was his turn to roll his eyes.
“When Sylvester got so up in the boughs about her, I began to wonder if she would suit me at all. Our taste in most things does not align particularly. That’s one reason I was determined to make sure this woman understood I was not the one who’d done the writing. If she were to marry me she’d need to know I was not the person in the letters.
“But I have to say, even after all that, I am quite content to wed the young lady who used the ticket. Mrs. Clark tickles my fancy and I’m already head over heels for her daughter.”
Sylvester’s jaw dropped. He’d never seen his brother have anything to do with a child. And although, in the manner of men, the two of them had assessed the charms of most of the females around—come to think on it, they really did have rather different preferences! Where was that thought going? Oh, yes! Chip had never complimented a woman with children. It was as if he were now another species. Although, if pushed, Sylvester himself would be hard pressed to describe most of the wives and mothers in town beyond the simplest of terms.
He
looked at his brother with a new attitude. Was that respect? He had always taken Chip for granted—he was the baby brother. Who knew he had . . . feelings!
“Yes, but that’s neither here nor there,” he spluttered, shaking his head. “She’s here under false pretenses. She came as an imposter.”
“Well, no, there you are wrong,” Chip winked, “again. She immediately told me who she was and why she had come in her sister’s stead. No, not in her stead, but in advance of Miranda, who should arrive shortly. She did so to protect her daughter.”
“And you believe that?” Sylvester half sneered.
“Actually, I do. Mrs. Clark is fiercely protective of her daughter and obviously dotes upon her. And her manner is direct and straightforward,” even if she won’t tell me her name, he mumbled to himself. “And I must admit I am thoroughly smitten.”
Chip shook his head. “Frankly, Sylvester, since you are clearly besotted with Miranda Belden, it would seem to me logical you should marry her. You did, after all, propose.”
“I merely wrote down what you wanted!”
Chip expelled a bark of laughter. “No, you wrote down what you wanted. After the first one or two exchanges, I never saw a single line. Not the ones you wrote nor her responses. But it is increasingly clear to me that you are the one in love and you were writing from your own heart. And, my dear Sylvester, I am very glad for it. And if I can convince her to have me, I fully intend to marry Mrs. Clark, even if her first name is something dreadful.”
He turned back to the pastor. “Will you conduct the ceremony, Reverend?”
Joe Richardson shook his head. This was a bit more complex a situation than he’d run into before. But the basic concept he and Father Francis Flanagan of St. Mary’s on the Hill, the town’s Catholic church, had devised years ago for working with Mail-Order Brides still held sway. Regardless of circumstances, no marriages would be performed without the full consent and understanding of both parties.
He surveyed Chip thoughtfully.
“I see I have been remiss in my pastoral duties and not discussed your hopes and desires in this matter. I’ve known both you boys since you were children and despite your differences you have always been very close and looked out for each other’s interest. So when Sylvester approached me, enthusiastic about you finding a bride, I accepted that he was accurately portraying your sentiments in the matter.
“But regardless, I always offer counsel to the bride-to-be, ascertaining her hopes, dreams, goals, and desires, to ensure I am following God’s will in performing a binding ceremony.”
Counseling the Bride
Hearing a light tap on his open door, Pastor Joe turned his head to see his wife and Mrs. Clark in the entry.
“Oh, do come in my dears!” he welcomed them directing them to the settee alongside his desk. “Mrs. Clark, it has long been my custom to interview all arriving brides to ensure, to the extent I can, the happiness of both parties. I usually conduct those meetings in private, and if, at any time, you wish to talk with me one on one, please do not hesitate to say so. And, before matters are concluded in any manner, we will, in fact, have that private conversation. But it seems there is much to discuss here first that concerns all parties.”
Celeste beamed at the pastor, including his wife in her smile.
“You have both been amazingly hospitable considering the unusual circumstances with which you have been presented! My heartfelt thanks to each of you!
“As I am sure has been made clear by now, I am not Mr. Hardwick’s intended. My sister Miranda contracted with him in good faith to become his wife, and I know she was looking forward to journeying west and doing so. That she was not at home when the letter arrived was less than providential, as I would much rather have traveled with her than ahead of her, but circumstances were such that I felt it incumbent upon me to depart immediately, for the safety of my daughter.”
The image of a mother bear defending her cub flitted across several minds as they beheld the expression Celeste’s face.
“I expect fully to hear from my sister shortly that she is following in my footsteps and will arrive soon.”
Reverend Joe looked at his wife and then at the three young people.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in my mind this conversation has the gravity and privacy of a pastoral counseling session. Nothing I learn here today will ever, without express consent, be mentioned by me in the presence of anyone else.
“My wife, as my helpmeet, has long sworn the same fealty to the sanctity of such sessions, but before we go further I would first wish your consent to her joining us. If any one of you should be uncomfortable, please say so now. No one will think less of you, or think about it at all, and anything already spoken of amongst any of us will remain under the same veil of privacy.”
He met the eyes of each of them in turn and each nodded assent, but Celeste vocalized it for all. “Unless either of the gentlemen objects, I for one would welcome Mrs. Richardson’s presence. She has already demonstrated to me an uncommon understanding and sensible attitude.”
The brothers met her eyes as she looked at them and nodded decisively, mumbling, “Agreed!”
A bit of the tension seeped out of the room with that brief sense of accord achieved.
Taking a deep breath, the pastor continued.
“All right, here is what I know and what I’ve surmised. For reasons best known to the brothers Hardwick it was agreed between them that Chip should seek out a mail-order bride. A correspondence was somehow initiated with a Miss Miranda Belden during which the parties agreed that she should travel west to marry Chip. Mrs. Clark intercepted the final letter and used the ticket contained therein to come to Green River. It that accurate so far?”
He looked around the room and received nods from all three, but both men had mouths open to speak. Raising his hand, he continued.
“Each of you will have ample opportunity to clarify the details, especially as they pertain to yourself, but first I would like to learn how it is that Miss Belden happened to receive Chip’s letters to begin with? In other words, I would like to begin at the beginning.”
Celeste was maintaining her silence. This was not her story to tell and she was capable of honoring a confidence. Her sister had shared with her that their man of business, Frederick Flanagan, had approached on behalf of a friend who was seeking a correspondence with an eligible young woman, with an eye toward matrimony. Freddie had admitted to conferring with his sister, Bridget, a classmate of Miranda’s and friend of Celeste’s as well, who had suggested he approach Miranda to see if she might be interested.
Sylvester’s Story
Sylvester raised his hand as if in school, and began.
“I guess to some extent it all begins with me. I knew you and Father Flanagan had successfully imported some mail-order brides from Our Lady of Mercy. I went to law school with his nephew, Frederick, and wrote to enquire if he might know any suitable young ladies. It was he who provide the name and direction of Miss Belden.
“Since my brother had agreed to the correspondence, he and I drafted the first letter to her. He does not trouble himself overmuch with his penmanship, so I wrote out the letter for him and mailed it. The correspondence proceeded quite nicely from there. Miss Belden proved to be an impressive young woman with a lively sense of humor and an unusual scope of interests, and soon our letters were flowing freely back and forth.
“Frederick had assured me Miss Belden was unexceptionable, of good moral character, and quietly attractive. The letters encouraged me to believe she, too, was interested in pursuing the relationship further, so on Chip’s behalf I proposed. When she accepted I arranged to send her a ticket, asking she advise which train she’d arrive on, and arranged that Chip wear a red shirt,” here he nodded at his brother’s garment, “so she could recognize him.”
“And such a wire was received?”
“Yes, it simply said, ‘arriving Thursday at 10:23.’ It was unsigned,” he stared briefly at Cel
este, “but I assumed that was to save on fees.”
Seeing from faces that others wished to speak, Reverend Joe again raised his hand for continued silence so he could phrase his next question.
“You rather glossed over the letter writing, but only mention collaborating with your brother on the first one. In an earlier discussion he mentioned not having seen nor been involved with writing any of the subsequent correspondence. I just wish to clarify this point.”
Sylvester sighed. “He asked me to do so, and even when I tried to get him to at least read the responses he just said he was too busy and that he’d leave it all in my hands. I tried to be Chip in my letters, at least at first.” He looked chagrined as the realization of what he was saying struck home and buried his face in his hands for a moment. Looking back up, he met the eyes of each of the other four in the room. “I’m not sure when I just started writing for the enjoyment of learning Miss Belden’s response, but now I understand why I was both delighted and upset when she agreed to marry my brother. You are quite right, Chip, I have developed a tendre for her based on our correspondence.” This last was uttered with an air of amazement.
Celeste looked back and forth between the two gentlemen. Technically, her sister was engaged to Chip, but although they might one day become friends, she couldn’t imagine her sister really enjoying Chip’s light-hearted and somewhat careless attitude toward life, although she had to admit that, annoying as he could be, he was rather amusing.
On the other hand, Sylvester had a certain solidity to his character, as he had demonstrated quite clearly in his letters. Frankly, although clearly well-informed and with a good mind, she found him a bit, well, smug and self-satisfied. Stodgy, even. Possibly some of the very characteristics that had appealed to her very conventional sister. In fact, that is what had startled her in the first place about this whole venture. It was so unlike Miranda!
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