Mail Order Bride: Christy (2 page)

***

Meredith and Morty had a lovely home, and they did their best to welcome her, offering her cake and sweet tea on her first evening there. But Christy knew she couldn’t stay in their home forever. Somehow she would need to figure out what the rest of her life might look like now she was on her own. She had gathered what valuables she could carry from her parents’ luggage before leaving the train, and she knew she had some funds available to her in the First Bank of Philadelphia. At some stage she would have to retrieve the money via wire transfer or visit Philadelphia herself to get it. She had a little cash with her for now, though, enough to live off for a short time. Meredith had told Christy that she could stay as long as she needed to, but Christy, though naive in some ways, knew that didn’t mean indefinitely.
I’ve a few days here at most,
Christy thought that night as she crawled into bed.
And after that I’ve no idea what I will do!

The following morning Meredith and Morty greeted Christy warmly as she descended the stairs and sat at the table for breakfast. Though the food smelled delicious Christy had no appetite. Morty sat at the dining table in their small kitchen, a smile on his face and a handlebar moustache, twirled tightly at the ends, drooping across his wide mouth. His thinning hair was combed evening across his scalp, and his grey eyes twinkled happily.

“Come on now my dear, you’ll fade away,” he said, handing her some toasted bread.

“I just can't seem to eat much,” Christy said, but she thanked Morty for his kindness and tried to nibble on the bread.

Meredith and Morty looked at each other. Meredith’s hair was curled into a tight bun at the back of her head, and she wore a plain brown dress and a white pinafore with small red rose buds splashed across it. She nodded before she spoke up.

“You know, we’d like you to stay here with us, Christy. Our own children are now grown with children of their own, and our house has been awful quiet ever since they left.”

Christy stopped her nibbling. “I would love to stay here. Your house is very warm and welcoming.” Christy smiled at the couple, who both looked at each other before Meredith continued her talking.

“But you’re a young woman Christy, and just like our own children, you should be out in the world, starting a family of your own.”

Christy looked down at her plate. Now her appetite had entirely left her. “Oh,” Christy said.

“Dear, we don’t mean to offend you,” Meredith said quickly, reaching over to pat Christy’s arm. “Of course you can stay here as long as you need. We just don’t want you to be stuck here, all on your lonesome,” Meredith said gently. “Tell you what, why don’t I help you to write letters to your family and friends. You can reach out to them, to people who know and love you, and see if any of them might offer you money or lodging. Morty and I run the local post office, so sending the letters won’t be any trouble. And we can give them this address to write back to. You won’t need to leave until you’ve at least heard word back.”

Christy nodded. “That sounds like a good idea Meredith, thank you. I wonder if you would help me get a bank account set up here in Topeka as well. My parents had a little money in their bank account back home, and I would like to set up a wire transfer."

"Of course my dear," said Morty. "Happy to help."

"Thank you," Christy whispered, a wave of grief and loneliness filling her heart. She pushed her plate away, her plate still untouched.

***

The weeks passed quickly and Christy's heart began its healing process. She enjoyed her time with Meredith and Morty, and had slipped quite seamlessly into sharing their comfortable life with them. Morty had helped her set up a bank account, and the wire transfer had been effected without any issues. So at least Christy now had access to what little money her parents had worked hard to save over the years. It didn't make up for the lonely hole in her heart, but it did calm her nerves about what the future might have in store.

Still Christy hadn't heard anything from the relatives in Ireland she had written to when she first arrived in Topeka.

“I’m beginning to think no one cares at all!” Christy said one morning to Meredith while making her bed. “Another day without a single letter!”

“Give it some more time my dear,” Meredith said. “It can take a long time for letters to reach from here to Ireland and back again.”

Christy shoved the sheet underneath her mattress and straightened it despondently. “It’s as though no one cares that I have been left all alone here in this country. They don’t even write to express their sorrow at Ma and Pa’s passing.” Christy thought she might cry just thinking about it. She straightened her back and smoothed her dress.

“Just wait a little longer,” Meredith said gently. “It hasn’t been so very long.”

But Meredith ran the post office and she knew the usual time that such correspondence took. And it had been a rather long time, plenty of time for a response from Ireland. Though she didn’t want to say so to Christy, Meredith was beginning to believe that no letters were coming. Christy would need to make other plans for her life; she wouldn't be able to rely on her family to help her.

“Come on my dear ― it’s my day off. Why don’t you come to the store with me? You can help me pick out the ingredients for dessert tonight?”

Christy brightened a little. Nodding, she said, “That would be wonderful. I need something to take my mind off my troubles!”

***

The Topeka General Store was a bright and cheerful place. Its shelves were lined with groceries, linens, fabrics, shoes, and farming supplies. A person could find anything he or she might need somewhere within its hewn timber walls. At the entrance to the store was a noticeboard where people could pin up flyers about various happenings around town, or missing or lost items. One particular stack of cream colored flyers with strong black lettering caught Meredith’s eye.

“Christy, dear,” she said quickly, spinning the young woman around so that she was facing away from the notice board. “My back is aching a little — could you go and fetch the rest of the ingredients while I speak with the clerk for a moment.”

“Of course, Meredith.” Christy beamed. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Meredith turned back to face the noticeboard. Yes, she had seen right ― there in big bold letters were the words
Mail Order Brides Wanted.
Meredith inched closer so she could read the smaller text with her failing eyesight. She'd forgotten to wear her spectacles, and it was becoming so that she couldn't read a line without them these days. She huffed in frustration, and squinted at the writing. The flyer was advertising an information night which was to run the coming Tuesday. It was encouraging local, young women to come along and learn more. 

It seemed that destiny had placed the notice right there for Meredith to see.
Why, this could be just the thing to get Christy out of danger!
Meredith’s eyes widened as she read the rest of the note. There were men out West who wanted brides right away.
Christy could be one of them. She’s pretty enough to make any man happy!
Meredith glanced over her shoulder and made sure that Christy was still busy fetching the ingredients. Meredith took one of the flyers and buried it in her pocket.
I’ll wait for the right moment, then tell Christy about it. But I think that our prayers may have been answered!

That afternoon, as Christy helped Meredith bake an orange cake for dessert, Meredith, asked, as casually as she could manage.

"Christy, my dear, have you thought about what you might do with yourself if your relatives don't reply to your correspondence?"

Christy sifted the flour into the bowl. “Mama wanted me to go to teacher’s college. But I’m not sure that’s what I truly want. I suppose I could do that, though. Why?”

“Christy you’re grown up now ― old enough to make decisions for yourself.”

“I know, I’m nineteen years old ― but I feel like I’m neither a girl nor a woman. I don't want to be on my own, but I'm really too old for anyone to take me in as their own and yet I feel as though I'm still too young to be able to support myself.”

Meredith replied to the girl gently. “You’re old enough to marry, my dear.”

Christy’s eyes stretched wide. “Marry? Meredith, who would I marry? I’ve never even kissed a man before. I’m not ready to marry one! Besides, I don't even know any men, other than Morty and the pastor at church. I mean I see men, and I say 'good day' to them, but I don’t really know any, not like that.” Christy looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushing red.

Meredith straightened up and dusted the flour from her hands. “You only need to know one, Christy. And you just haven’t met the right one yet, that's all.”

“Do you think I will find someone someday, Meredith?"

"Of course you will, my dear." Meredith nodded her head. “I know for a fact that there are men out there looking to marry a girl as sweet and pretty as you.” She reached into her pocket, took out the flyer and handed it to Christy.

Christy’s eyes widened again as she read the flyer. “Why Meredith. I could never do such a thing! Marry a man I’ve never met?”

Meredith’s face turned serious. “Of course, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, my dear. But this might be the best option for you. I’m afraid that none of your family is going to write you. And the men in this program are supposed to be good men. It says here they've all been interviewed and vetted. At least go along to the meeting and talk to this Bonnie lady. She might help to put your mind to ease.”

Christy nodded. “Okay. I will go to the meeting. But I can’t promise you anything more than that Meredith!”

CHAPTER THREE

Christy

Bonnie McCloud was a pretty middle-aged woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. And she was Irish, just like Christy’s Ma. In fact, just a little distance from the church, the woman sounded so much like Mrs. Hancock that Christy stood stock still in the darkness of the street. Her stomach flipped a little as she listened. She needed a few moments to regain her composure. She was already nervous enough about the meeting. Maybe she should turn around and head back to Meredith and Morty's place? Maybe this whole thing was a ridiculous idea. Who marries someone they've never met? Christy sat down on a pile of rocks beside the church gate to think.

If she didn't do this, what was she going to do? She had no one to turn to, nowhere to go. She could continue the journey to California and become a teacher, but she would still be all alone in the world. Or, she could trust her fate to God's hands and pray that she might be matched up with a good man who could give her a warm and loving home. Christy stood to her feet and dusted off the back of her skirts.

She walked into the church hall a little late, to hear Bonnie telling the young women sitting around the room on folding chairs about the Mail Order Bride program. Christy hurried over to an empty chair and sat down, smoothing the front of her dress and folding her hands in her lap.

“The men we match you with are all checked out carefully by our satellite offices. They're each interviewed and have to provide character references from people who know them. These men want to be married, but there aren’t a lot of women out west. Often times in these towns there are no women of marrying age at all! I can assure you that all the men in the program are hardworking, and can provide for a family, and will pay for you to travel out to meet them. Of course, you're free to return to Topeka if you don't wish to go ahead with it once you arrive, but I would encourage you all to give it a good try. We have placed dozens of girls like you throughout the west, and many of them are happily married, raising beautiful families in their new homes. They write to us to tell us how much their new situations suit them, and they are often well pleased with their matches.”

Christy listened with great interest. She was beginning to believe that maybe this would to be the answer to her prayers after all. A home with a loving husband and a family of her own. Hearing about it stirred a longing deep in her heart that had been buried when her parents had died all those weeks ago. She wiped a few stray tears from beneath her eyes, and stood with the others to pack the folding chairs away.

The girls who wished to sign up to be brides stood in line in front of Bonnie, who was taking down their details in a ledger. Christy joined the line and, when it was her turn, she signed up for the program. Afterwards Christy spoke to Bonnie in private. She told Bonnie she still had some misgivings about the scheme.

“The men in the program are thoroughly checked Christy ― the agency makes sure they all have enough money and income to support a family, and they will pay for everything, if that is what you’re worried about.”

What about love?
Christy thought.
The agency can do nothing to ensure that I will actually love the man they match me with. What does money mean, if I have no feelings, no attraction, towards the man?

But Christy didn’t say such things to Bonne. She was embarrassed to talk about such a thing as ‘love’ with the older woman. Bonnie would probably think that Christy was being silly to even think about such things. Shallow perhaps. After all, the way Bonnie had made it sound, marrying was about finding a good match, a man who could provide a good home, and a good life for a woman. And that's what her mother had always told her as well. Christy daren’t ask for anything more than that. Perhaps she wasn’t even supposed to. Her Ma had often told her to get her head out of the clouds, that marriage wasn't like a fairytale, and that she would do well to settle for a good man who could provide for a family.

So that's what Christy had prayed for over the years, but the things she asked for, even what she prayed for, were quite different to the things that Christy truly wanted. It felt as though a lifetime had passed since the incident on the train, and Christy had needed to do a lot of growing up in the meantime, but she was still that girl who had been watching the fields of flowers passing by the train window, daydreaming about the things she'd left behind and what was to come. Through it all though, Ma's voice rang out loudly in her memories.