Mail Order Bride_Cecily Finds a Husband Read online

  Mail Order Bride

  Cecily Finds a Husband

  Westward Bound Brides: Book 1

  Kate Whitsby

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Other books by Kate

  Mailing List

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  The mountains rose to the west, tall granite peaks silhouetted against the rising sun. To the east lay grassy plains, the verdant seas of green a stark contrast to the harsh thrust and lift of the mountains.

  Cecily Waters adjusted the hat on her head, using the reflection in the window to do so, and then gave herself a quick once-over.

  Her hair, a rich dark-brown, was neatly pulled up and twisted into a demure coil at the back of her neck. Her face was highlighted by a straight little nose, a full mouth, and wideset brown eyes whose lashes were both thick and very straight.

  Her traveling clothes, a plain dove-gray shirtwaist, a darker gray skirt, and a perfectly cut green coat that made the grays of her garments seem a little less plain, were liberally coated with dust despite her constant shaking and brushing of them.

  She wet her lips nervously and let her eyes wander over the car. It had emptied out slowly but surely. The first night, coming out of New York City, the train had been jam-packed. People had talked or snored, they’d been surly or cheerful, but they had been there.

  Now there was nobody in the car but herself and a few young men headed to the western side of Montana to make their fortunes.

  The conductor checked on her often and she knew he was being courteous, but she was often startled by his presence near her. She’d packed a lot of food, everything she’d had left in the little two-room apartment, and she had been slightly embarrassed a few times when he showed up in time to catch her with a bite of food in her mouth just as he asked if she was doing alright.

  Her eyes went to her basket. She was hungry, but there was precious little left. She’d had two small loaves in there at the start. She’d eaten that along with cheese and the bruised fruit she’d bought cheaply. There were two boiled eggs left, tucked into the jar of vinegar that kept them from spoiling but made them very sour, and a small heel of bread. There was also a tiny slice of apple pie that she’d been saving for just this moment, and while she was sure it was hard and stiff, she intended to have it for breakfast.

  According to the sun, she had about half an hour before the train pulled into the station and the next leg of her journey would begin.

  Taking out the eggs, she ate them slowly. Many people ate the hot meals on the train, and she would be lying if she didn’t admit that the occasional whiff of rich meat and gravy coming through the doors tempted her and made her wish heartily for a good hot meal.

  The bread had dried out and the pie, while rich and sweet, was indeed stiff, the crust shattering.

  She quickly went to the water pail and drank a long mouthful of water. She dipped her handkerchief into the little well below and then went back to her seat, dabbing at her hands and mouth to make sure there were no stray crumbs. She had managed to clean her teeth earlier and now she tucked the last of her tiny mints into her mouth to freshen her breath.

  Her nerves were nearly shattered by the sound of the wheels skidding to a stop on the slick steel rails. Her stomach dropped into her knees and her heart stood dead still for a long second.

  It was happening.

  Her breath caught as she stared out at the rocky peaks. The young men in the car gathered themselves up and she gripped her valise so tightly her knuckles turned white.

  She only had the valise and the basket she had kept her food in. There had been nothing else she wanted to bring with her.

  In the valise were the other three skirts and shirtwaists she owned, as well as a few pairs of stockings and her undergarments and a thin packet of letters from Thom Presley, the man who’d arranged to marry her through the mail-order bride agency. There was a small china doll in a long white dress, lace doilies, and a few books. Nothing more.

  She closed her eyes as fear crashed over her. What if Thom discovered her secret? He might send her packing, married or not, and she wouldn’t be able to blame him if he did.

  She stood, her legs shaking. There was no turning back. She had come a long way and she had further to go before the day was over.

  She stepped out onto the platform. Her coat was thin, built for the early spring weather, but early spring in Montana was not nearly as warm as the weather in New York, which was not very warm either.

  This cold was different. It went deeper, cut to the bones. She clutched her coat around herself, bumping her hip with the valise as she stared around at the platform.

  There he was. He looked just as he had described himself. Tall, neither handsome nor homely. Brown hair—slightly lighter than her own—and broad of shoulder but lean at the hip. He wore denim pants, a thick coat, and a heavy work shirt in a red-and-black checked pattern.

  He came closer. His face was nice. His lips were well-molded and his forehead was high.

  In a low and pleasant baritone voice he said “That coat’s far too thin.”

  Cecily nodded. “I didn’t expect...I’m sorry, I just thought it would do.”

  Her fingers clutched it more tightly. She had gotten it from a church box. It was of a fine quality and there was little wear on it. She’d taken it not for the color or the quality of the cloth, but because it didn’t have any frayed hems or tears. She’d been hoping to make a good impression, and now she had made herself look silly!

  He smiled. “You’re Cecily.”

  She nodded, “And you’re Thom.”

  He nodded. “That your valise?”

  She held it out and he took it. He wore thick gloves and she became aware that hers were far too thin as soon as a strong gust kicked up off the mountains and hit them.

  Thom said, “Don’t worry about the coat. Nobody expects it to be so cold. We'll stop the night in a small town with a mercantile. They’ll have a coat. In the meantime, you can stay under the lap rugs and they’ll keep you warm.”

  Gratitude filled her. “Thank you.”

  He jerked his head toward a small buggy and she saw, to her dismay, that it was open. He led her to it and helped her aboard. The rugs were thick and soft and she burrowed beneath them gladly. He tied a bandana around her face, his fingers gentle. His touch made her shiver.

  He said, “It’ll keep the wind off you some, anyway.”

  He tied a second around his own face. Cecily breathed through the cloth. It had a nice, comforting smell. It smelled like open air and a trace of something else. Aftershave, maybe.

  They set off through the morning air.

  The mountains stood rugged and high, but the road was wide and easy. Cecily had not slept much and her eyes kept wanting to close, but she knew she needed to make conversation.

  “How far is it to your home again?”

  “A day. The railroad hasn’t come yet.”

  She clasped her hands together under the rugs. “I’m sorry you had to come so far to fetch me.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no worry. My family maintains a very large ranch, and so do I. We’ve eight houses there, between my uncles and parents and me and my brothers. I think I told you that. You’ll have plenty of company, and we all pitch in to do whatever work needs to be done, so it wasn’t a hardship to come for you.”

  She studied the back of his h
ead. He’d pulled his collar way up and his hat way down so that only a few inches of his hair showed and waved in the wind.

  They stopped at a tiny town that had nothing in it but a few houses strung along the little grassy knolls set below the crowns of the mountains.

  She was surprised when Thom pulled the wagon up in front of one house—a weathered clapboard thing.

  The front door opened and a stern-faced woman appeared. She came out and yelled, “The horses can be unhitched and rubbed down in the back. There’s oats and hay but no alfalfa yet.”

  Thom jumped down and opened the door for Cecily.

  “Thank you!” Thom helped her down. She straightened her hat and skirt. He nodded toward the house. “Go on inside while I take the horses to the back of the house.”

  She was confused and weary, but when she crossed the threshold and smelled the delectable aromas of onion and gravy, her exhaustion lifted somewhat.

  The woman said, “You can hang your wraps there. The table’s back this way.”

  Cecily hung her coat carefully, then unpinned her hat and carefully stowed it as well. While she lingered, Thom came in. She helped him to get out of his coat and then hung it up for him. That little domestic task made her feel somewhat better.

  The house was small but warm. The place was open plan. The front room was a sitting area and kitchen combined, and the table was already set with plates and cups. As they headed for it she saw a small door in the back. The bedroom, she guessed. The place was shining clean and when they sat the woman quickly dished out stew and set a plate of biscuits, still warm, on the table along with a dish of butter.

  She busied herself and Thom nodded at Cecily as she asked, quietly, if he wanted to lead their grace.

  They ate quickly. There was plenty of hot coffee and tea, and after their stew was finished they were given a huge slice of vinegar pie.

  Cecily used the facilities while Thom got the buggy and paid for their meal. They headed out again and despite her most valiant efforts, Cecily soon fell fast asleep.

  Chapter Two

  She woke to find they had moved further away from the mountains, and the sun was going down. The wind had picked up; the clouds scudded across the sky and she shivered.

  Thom spoke softly. “Are you terribly cold?”

  “No, but I wonder how you aren’t. You must be freezing up there.”

  He shook his head. “My coat’s warm enough. The gloves too. The horses are working hard enough to stay warm, but I think the temperature is going to drop tonight. We will stop soon as it won't be long before it's dark.”

  She racked her brain for something to say. She gulped hard and asked, “Is the weather like this every spring?”

  “It’s a little cooler than usual but it can drop, the temperatures I mean, up until June.”

  Her heart sank. Would she ever get used to such cold? “There were men on the train talking about the opportunities here in the mountains. Said they made for wonderful ranches.”

  Thom snorted. “Greenhorns. They all think if they stake out a ranch in the mountains, they’ll keep their cattle from getting rustled.”

  Alarm sprang up. “Are there rustlers here?”

  “Not like Texas, but it happens. The best places here are the plains. Plenty of grasslands. Not as cold as the mountains, either.”

  It was a rough country. Primitive. She’d known it, but looking at the vast emptiness brought that home to her in a way that nothing else could have. Fresh doubts set in. Could she stand such lonely and sweeping plains?

  His family lived close, and there was a small but decent city nearby, he’d said. She wondered what he meant by decent. Her feet ached with cold despite the wraps and her bottom ached from the rough seat. Her legs flexed and she winced a little. The shoes she wore did not fit her properly; they were at least a half size too small, and while she had worn them for days now and the pain had eased after the first she had begun to lose hope that they would stretch permanently.

  At least the clothes fit.

  She buried those thoughts. If she thought them, she would have to think about how she had wound up in such circumstances, and she dared not. If she did she would lose her nerve entirely.

  God forgive me. He’s a good man and I’ve started this whole thing off with a lie. I know it’s a lie and even if it was necessary, it was wrong. I can’t ask that you help me to have a good life if it started with a lie, and I swear I will tell him—and soon—but please give me some peace in my heart. Please let him be a good man, the good man I feel he is. That’s all I ask. Just let him be the good man I hope he is. She prayed.

  The buggy slowed and banked right. The wind soared down again, hitting her face and freezing her cheeks through the thin bandana. Tears sprang up in her eyes. It was terrible and miserable, but it was no less than what she deserved.

  Lights sprang up, and she stared at them. They looked like candles glowing above the waving grasslands, and she realized they were houses. Her joints and muscles protested when she tried to move but she did, flexing her legs and arms. Thom looked miserable too, all huddled down on the seat. “Here, take one of these wraps before you freeze.”

  He shook his head, “No. We’re almost there and I would never ask you to weather the cold like that.”

  “Well, I won’t ask you to weather it any longer.”

  In a sudden bold move she stood, holding tightly to the lurching sides. She climbed up next to him and spread the rugs across their knees. He gave her a smile and she realized he was even colder than she had thought.

  They turned in front of a large house sitting slightly away from its neighbors. A man ran out to take the horses, saying, “Storm comin. Smells like snow. If you ain’t got runners on this buggy, you may get lodged here more’n one night. Looks like you two are froze through. I’ll get them in the barn and fed; you go on in and get warm.”

  Thom gave the man a smile. “Thanks, but a man that won’t see to his own...”

  The other man nodded his head. “All right then, I’ll wait until you get the little miss there inside.”

  Thom helped her down and saw her to the door. It opened to reveal a slender and rosy-cheeked woman. She said, “Good heavens, you’re radiating cold. Come on in here.”

  Cecily liked her immediately. “Thank you.”

  The door closed and her hostess held out a hand. “I’m Jenna. Let’s get you out of the cold and by the fire. I got tea and coffee, both piping hot.”

  “I’d like some tea, if it isn’t too much bother.”

  Jenna shook her head. “No bother. Come on in here to the kitchen table...”

  The house was large but comfortable. The kitchen and sitting room were open and together, as was the custom. It was easier to keep those rooms warm if they were side-by-side. Jenna said, “There’s little wood, so we have to depend on coal, but we do have fireplaces in the bedrooms. Since you and Thom aren’t married yet, the men will sleep in the big room and you and I will sleep in here.”

  She indicated a small curtain that hung over an alcove. “I hope you don’t mind sharing with me.”

  Cecily shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  Jenna began pouring tea. There was a pot of beans bubbling gently on the stove and bread baked up nicely in the skillet set on the stove top to keep warm. Cecily asked, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  The door opened and the men tramped in. Cecily and Jenna took their coats and hung them near the stove. Jenna fetched coffee and sugar and cream. Cecily insisted on helping her to set the table, and then they all sat down.

  Jenna introduced her husband Curtis, who was Thom’s cousin. Cecily asked, “You don’t live close to your folks, then?”

  Curtis shook his head. “There was plenty of folks there and I wanted to strike out on my own. Jenna’s folks all live around here, and so here we are.”

  The stove gave off heat that seeped into Cecily’s bones and she relaxed as she tucked into the plain and simple, but utte
rly delicious fare. There were bits of pale salt pork floating about in the beans, the fat giving the beans a wonderful richness. The cornbread was thick and slightly sweet, and dripping with good creamery butter. They all had seconds.

  Jenna said, “I love your shirtwaist. Did you make it?”

  “No, but I do sew. I worked as a seamstress for a little while.”

  She and Jenna talked sewing for a little while and the men talked cattle and crops. Cecily helped clear the table and to clean the dishes.

  The men used the water that Jenna heated to wash up and then they headed off to bed. Cecily washed quickly, wincing when the shoes came off her feet to reveal a solid belt of blisters around the top and sides.

  Jenna saw them and asked, “Do your shoes pinch?”

  Cecily blushed. “It’s not so bad.”

  Jenna put a finger to her lips. “Well, maybe we can help each other. The last time I ordered shoes, they came just a bit too big. They are comfortable enough if I wear two pairs of stockings but...but if we traded, perhaps we’d both be more comfortable.”

  Tears stung Cecily’s eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t take your shoes.”

  Jenna smiled. “You’d be doing me a favor. We’ll try each other’s on in the morning, if you like, and see if that works out.”

  Cecily smiled. “Thank you.”

  They readied themselves for bed. Jenna had tucked a few foot warmers between the sheets, and they laid there for a few minutes. Jenna asked, “Are you frightened?”

  Cecily bit her lips. “A little. It’s a big change from the city.”

  Jenna patted her arm comfortingly. “I imagine so. My folks were always moving further west whenever the places we lived got too crowded, so I never lived near a real city. There’s a store here, and a livery. There’s churches—two of them as well. A few grain silos and not too many people. It’s a nice place, and where Thom lives there’s a really nice little town. You’ll be all right.”

  Cicely wasn’t so sure. She swallowed hard. “It’s just that I don’t really know him, but he seems so kind.”

  Jenna said, “Oh, he does seem kind. I don’t know him very well, given as how they live so far, but we do see them, him and his family I mean, a few times a year. Usually after the summer ends and they have the big dances.”