Love in Independence (Holiday Mail Order Brides) (5 page)

“On account of the others,” Martha said matter-of-factly.

  Winnie shook her head
in exasperation; this was getting more confusing by the minute. “What others?”

“Well, let’s see …” Maude said and spun the ledger to face her. She pointed to a name on the list. “There’s
Mahulda Brock’s daughter, Eva, for one.”

Martha shivered in her chair. “Oh, she’s terrible!”

“Why do I need to be concerned about her?” Winnie asked.

“Because she’ll be back in town any da
y now, she’s been away this last year visiting and taking care of her aunt in San Francisco,” said Maude.

“What has that got to do with anything?” asked Winnie, frustrated.

“Because she’s old enough to marry, and because she hasn’t seen Pastor Luke yet.”

Winnie let out a weary sigh
. “And she’s single.”

“Yes,
” Martha said. “And Pastor Luke hasn’t seen
her
.”

“Then why am I h
ere? Seems to me you already have a candidate!”

Maude lowered her eyes and shook her head.

“No? What do you mean, no?” asked Winnie.

“Unless she’s changed, she’d be a horr
ible match for Pastor Luke.”

“How do you know I’m not a horrible match for the man?” Winnie as
ked. “What makes you think my vices are any better than this Eva’s?”

“Because we’ve put our
trust in Mrs. Ridgley, and she sent Martha’s cousin’s sons two very fine women.”

Winnie blew out her breath and leaned back in her chair again. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“A marriage contract, if we have our way,” said Martha. “Really, Winnie, you must listen to reason. He needs a wife! A good wife! Everyone can see it but him.”

“Exactly, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that.”

“He’s young, and it’s only a matter of time before he grows lonely,” added Maude.

“Who’s to say he’s not riddled with loneliness now, and hides it?” Martha put in.

Winnie looked from one face to the other. “And if this doesn’t work?”

The two matrons glanced at each other. “It will,” said Maude. “But if it makes you feel any better, I could use some help around her
e, and am willing to hire you until you make enough money to go on to something else, or leave town.”

Winnie sat up at that. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course; we’re the ones that brought you out here. It’s the least I can do.”

“And I can always use an extra hand at the mercantile,” said Martha.

Winnie thought about the offer. If she and Luke Adams hit it off, and nature did, indeed, take its course, she’d get what she came for in the first place. If not, and the man had no interest in her, then she’d still have a chance to start a new life and get a fresh start. “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”

“Excellent!” said Maude. “As will we
; on one condition.”

Winnie eyed her. “What now?”

“No one can know you’re his mail-order bride. If our husbands find out …”

Winnie felt like pulling
her hair out, but what could she do? She’d already been sucked into their madcap scheme. “Fine.”

Maude sat back, a pleased look on her face. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow.”

* * *

Luke left the Vanders’ house feeling more than a little confused. Mrs. Vander had hired him an assistant? Did they really think him that incapable of handling their Fourth of July celebration?  He knew it had become quite a tradition for the town, but surely they had more faith in him than that. Didn’t they?

He strolled down the street, his h
ands in his pockets, and mused over the evening’s events and the pretty young woman seated at the dinner table, as brief as he presence was. He’d seen her at church earlier, and had hoped to meet her then, but she’d disappeared before he got the chance. He thought she might be Mrs. Brock’s daughter, Eva, as he knew she was to return to Independence soon. Mrs. Brock made it a point to remind him every Sunday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, not to mention any other day she could manage. The sight of the new young woman in church made him think twice about his current state of bachelorhood, and he began to question his decision to remain that way.

“Ah
, Molly,” he whispered to himself. “I’ve missed you.” But five years was a long time, and perhaps he should consider the idea of marrying again. He and Molly had barely been married two years when she died, and folks in Chicago wondered why he hadn’t re-married by now.

He turned on
to Main Street and recalled a conversation he’d had with his best friend, Sam Colson, who’d lost his wife the year before. Sarah and Molly had been best friends, and looked very much like each other. Both were petite, small, and fragile; too fragile for a hard life out west. Sarah died in childbirth and Molly from a fever, which left Sam and Luke on their own.

But Sam had it harder than Luke
; he had a child to take care of, which meant he had a reason to get married again quick-like if he wanted. But he never had, and Luke pondered how Sam and his daughter, Abigail, were doing. He knew he should write, but he’d been so busy with …

“Of course
; no wonder she hired an assistant,” he said and stopped in the middle of the street. “I’m so busy I don’t have time for letter-writing.  Mrs. Vander is right. I do need help.” He glanced up the street. It was late, the shops and businesses closed, the street deserted. He imagined himself strolling down the middle of it, a wife on his arm, a baby in hers. Wasn’t it about time he thought about moving on? After all, the women out here were not as fragile as Molly had been. They were strong, healthy, and had grit. They had to, as many of them came out west years ago with their families, while others were born into it and grew up in Independence. They were a hardy lot, and knew the frontier well. 

He sighed. But the thought of again
losing someone he loved …

Luke shook his head, and walked on. He’d been angry
at God when he lost Molly, and it took him some time to get over his loss. True, he’d been over it for a couple of years now, but was he ready to take the risk again? Could he? It was so much easier to glide through life, doing the Lord’s work, and not thinking about or dealing with the loneliness that sometimes plagued him. He stopped again, and looked up one side of the street and down the other. This was a small town; a good town. One he could raise children in… but wouldn’t opening an orphanage suffice just as well?

“Luke, you dimwit!” he chastised himself. “What are you thinking?” He had to stop running, and face the fact that there were no guarantees in this life
; that things would work out in the Lord’s good time. 

He
stood in the middle of the street and looked to the sky. “Fine, do as You will,” he said, his arms at his sides. “But I get to pick!” He’d been sure the Almighty had sent him Molly, was positive she was the perfect woman for him. But if that were so, then why wasn’t she here with him now?  But he’d been determined to be married, and looking back, he was sure it had clouded his decision-making. Or did it? He didn’t know anymore. That being the case, how was he supposed to know this time? Worse yet, there weren’t any women around to choose from. Except one.

Five

“Go on, knock,” urged Maude. “He’s in there.”
Winnie swallowed hard, and knocked on the door of the parsonage.  “Shouldn’t we have waited? It’s awfully early.”

“Nonsense
; it’s seven a.m. Half the morning’s gone!”

No sooner had she said it,
than the door opened. Winnie sucked in a breath as she drank in the sight of Luke Adams. “He … he … hello.”
Oh no! Not now!

“Good morning. What can I do for you?”

“Miss Longfellow has come to help you, of course,” Maude told him. “Where do you want her to set up?”

“Oh, yes, excuse me,” he said as he pulled a napkin from his shirtfront and wiped his mouth with it. “I guess this means we’d best get to work.”

Winnie smiled as a delicious ch
ill went up her spine. She’d not been this close to him before, and he smelled of mint and sausage. Not only that, but he was taller than she remembered, and she gazed directly at the hollow of his throat.

He ducked inside, grabbed his jacket, and put it on.
That done, he stepped outside onto the porch with them, closing the door behind him. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to my office. We can work there.  Mrs. Smythe, where are you storing the fireworks?”

“My husband assures me they’re in a safe place.”

“Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want any of the children to accidentally set one off. I heard about the incident you folks had last year.”

Maude grimaced. “Yes, most unfortunate.”

“What happened?” Winnie asked, happy they were heading down the porch steps and over to the church.

“Mrs. Brock’s youngest boy got into them and lit one. It almost burned the church down!” Maude explained.

“Oh, that’s terrible,” said Winnie. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Only Jasper Brock’s backside, as I u
nderstand it,” said Pastor Luke. “Mr. Brock saw to that, isn’t that right, Mrs. Smythe?”

“It most certainly is! We don’t want anything happening this year!”

Winnie glanced around the churchyard and hated the thought of innocent children getting hurt because of one child’s mischief. “No, we don’t.”

They followed him down a path that ran alongsid
e the church to a rear door. Pastor Luke led them inside and into a small office. He pulled out a chair for Winnie, indicating she was to sit down. “Is there anything else you have for me today, Mrs. Smythe?”

“No, I think I’ve brought you all you need,” she said with a wide smile. “You two have fun
, now. Martha will be along shortly with a list of things to be done this week.  We’ve only two weeks to prepare, you know!”

With that
, she left. Winnie folded her hands in her lap and stared at them as Pastor Luke sat in his chair on the other side of the desk. “So; Miss Longfellow, is it? I hope we’ll make progress today. But, first, I need to have you clarify a few things for me.”

She looked up at him, her heart beating faster in response.
“Yes?”

“I’m a little confused. You couldn’t possibly
have come out here just to work with me.
What
else are you here for? Have you relatives in town?”

She felt her heart stop. “Ah …
wel … wel… ” She took a deep breath. “Well, you see, I’m staying with Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. I’ll be working for them for a time.” She let out the air and smiled.

“Really?” he said with interest. “Doing what?”

She swallowed. “Whatever it is they need done.

“Do you have experience
with that sort of thing?”

Her eyes widened. She’d been so faint from hunger last night
; she hadn’t bothered to ask what sort of business the Smythes’ were in. Mrs. Vander was married to the mayor, that much she knew, and Mrs. Tindle and her husband ran the mercantile … but what on earth would she be doing for her current hosts? She said the first thing that popped into her head, the one thing she was good at. “I have lots of experience taking care of people.”

He cocked his head to one side, his eyes darting away and back again. “Oh? How much experience?”

“Well, I … I took care of my mother for years.”

“W
hat?” he asked, his brows rising in question. “I shouldn’t think that sort of care would be needed for long.”

She sat frozen in her chair. What
kind
of care was he talking about? “I did what I could for her, considering the circumstances. Folks tell me she lasted a lot longer because of it, and that she looked much better than expected.”

He stared at her. “Yes, I suppose … in those circumstances, it’s important to … ah… preserve the
, ah … well, I guess it all depends on how long things run.”

Winnie smiled, still not sure what he was referring to, and figured she’d better change the subject. “Tell me, how many folks do you expect to attend the celebration?”

“The whole town, I’m told.”

“The
entire
town?”

“Yes, including the farmers in the outlying areas. Independence is much closer for them. Salem has a celebration, but it’s too far away. Folks would have to spend the night.”

“I see,” she stated and made a show of glancing around the small office. “Have you been here long?”

“Not really. I arrived just a few months ago.”

“Oh, so you’re fairly new in town. They must have written your letter shortly after you arrived …”

“What was that?” he asked.

Winnie snapped her mouth shut and stared at him. “I mean, I received a letter … from Mrs. Smythe, asking … that I come.”  She sat, wide-eyed, and prayed that she didn’t look or sound like an idiot. By her calculations, Mercy, Maude, and Martha must have sent for her shortly after he took over the church. At least, she knew she was telling him the truth on that score. Maude and the others
had
sent her a letter, requesting her to come. She’d leave out the part about how she thought the letter was from him.

He gave her a half-smile and began to drum his fingers on the desk. “Let’s get started, shall we? The others should be here by now.”

“Others? What others?”

“The rest of the committee. Who else?  Now that you’re here, you’ll be taking over.”

“What?” she squeaked, “Taking over?”

“Of course, I don’t have time to lead
every meeting. I have sermons to write, and a meeting with the men this afternoon. Then I have to go look in on Mr. Thompson, he’s got a broken leg, and his wife has been sick, and then there are the Edmonsons. And … well, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here. I really can use the help.  I’m glad Mrs. Smythe and the others took the initiative and sent for you. Besides, I don’t know beans about setting off those fireworks.”

“Fireworks?”

“I’m glad they brought in an expert. I must say, I was surprised to find out a woman would know about such things.”

Winnie stared at him, her mouth agape. Even if she didn’t stutter, she still would have been speechless. He expected her to be in charge of the fireworks?  She didn’t know beans about such things
either! Good heavens! What was she to do?

“Let’s go see if Mrs. B
rock and the others are here, shall we?” he asked as he stood.

Winnie nodded
; her mind racing over the last twenty-four hours. How had she managed to go from mail-order bride to an expert on explosives? He didn’t expect her to be the one to set the things off, did he? Good grief! What if he did?

“
Aren’t you coming?” he asked as he stepped out from behind the desk.

She looked at him, her face f
rozen in bewilderment. She gripped her side of the desk then pushed herself up from her chair. He smiled and motioned her to the open door behind her. She looked at it numbly, and took a step forward; feeling as if she were walking to the gallows. How did she get into this mess?

“I’m sure Mrs. Brock will have some ideas to share with you. She always does.”

“Mrs. Brock?” Winnie heard herself say. The name rang a bell, but she didn’t have time to think why. Before she knew it, she was being led out to a short hall that went straight to the sanctuary, where a group of women gathered.

“Goo
d morning, ladies,” Pastor Luke greeted.

The women smiled, waved, some even giggled as he drew near. One, however, looked at him with a sour expression on her face. “Pastor Adams, you’re late.”

He stopped up short, took out his pocket watch, and checked the time. “On the contrary, Mrs. Brock; you’re early. And please, call me Pastor Luke. I prefer it.”

She sucked air through her nose and stepped aside. Behind her stood a beaut
iful young woman with raven black hair and bright blue eyes. Winnie felt her heart sink another notch. “May I introduce you to my daughter, Eva? She arrived just this morning. She’s been away visiting my sister for quite some time. Poor dear, the woman gets sicker and sicker as the months roll by. But my Eva is an angel of mercy,” she turned to the girl. “Aren’t you, dear?” 

The girl smiled and looked Pastor Luke
up and down like he was a piece of candy. “Yes, Mother.”

  “And Lord knows
, our society needs more young people like my Eva to take care of the sick and the widowed,” she added as she shot him a pointed look.

Pastor Luke
smiled in return, but added nothing to her little speech. Instead, he motioned to Winnie. “I’d like to introduce Miss Longfellow, also just arrived. She’s come to help with the planning of our Fourth of July celebration. She’s a friend of the Smythes’ and came with the fireworks. She’ll be in charge of things from here on out.”

“What?” several women exclaimed.

“But, Pastor Luke, we put you in charge,” a plump woman said with a whine.

He turned to her. “My dear Mrs.
Peatman;
I h
aven’t the time to see to all the details properly, so I’m going to take whatever extra help is offered.”

“My Eva can do it! W
hat was that Maude Smythe thinking, bringing in a stranger?”

“B
ecause she’s an expert,” Pastor Luke stated matter-of-factly. “And I, for one, am glad she’s here.”

Winnie felt encouraged by his words, even though she had no idea
what she was doing. Expert in what? Certainly not fireworks! She’d have to speak with Mr. Smythe and pray that he knew something about them! Of course, there was always the alternative …

“But
, Pastor Adams,” Mrs. Brock continued. “Eva came home early from my sister’s to help you. She’s the more logical choice, as she’s been part of this community her entire life.”

He looked at the raven-haired beauty. “Can you organize the fireworks
and set them off?”

Her eyes wide
and her mouth half-open, she looked at her mother who stared back, her eyes narrowed. “No, I’m afraid I can’t. But I can help with the organizing.”

“Excellent
; then you and Miss Longfellow are in charge,” he announced.

“But
, Pastor Adams!” Mrs. Brock cried as he spun on his heel and turned toward the short hall that led to his office. “What about the rest of us?”

“Ask Miss Longfellow what to do,” he called over his shoulder. He then disappeared into the hall and left the group with the sound of his office door closing shut.

“Well, I never!” Mrs. Brock huffed.

“I think Elma should be in charge of organizing the picnic,” said Mrs. Peatman.

Winnie stared at the group and swallowed hard. She took a deep breath, for safety’s sake, and took the plunge. “Let’s introduce ourselves first. After all, if we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know your names.
”

“Of course
, dear!” exclaimed a short woman with grey hair. “I’m Elma Gelsinger, and this is Mrs. Caulder.” She pointed to a tall, thin woman next to her with huge eyes and a hooked nose.  She reminded Winnie of an owl.

“I’m Alice Peatman,” said the other woman. “My husband’s the town barber. He was in c
harge of the fireworks last several years. I can’t imagine what he’s going to think when he finds out a woman was put in charge!”

Winnie’s eyes widened. This was her chance! “Oh, well, I don’t see why he can’t handle the fireworks again this year. That would free me up to help out with other things.”

Mrs. Peatman smiled. “Really? Why, that’s very generous of you. I thought perhaps you had your heart set on handling them. Why else would you be here?”

Winnie let out
a laugh. “Why else?” she said with a shrug. “But I have other reasons for coming to your lovely town. But Mrs. Smythe thought it best if I … help with your celebration first.”