The Mail Order Bride's Quilt

Copyright © 2013 by Leah Atwood

Cover image © istockphoto.com

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Jenny Mason sat at the depot, her palms damp from perspiration. Discreetly looking around, she saw no one matching the description of her intended groom.  The now worn letter was folded in her reticule and she removed it, rereading the words she had memorized.  Of course the words hadn’t changed.  She was still looking for a tall man with blonde hair and green eyes. He wrote that he’d wear a pale blue cotton shirt to distinguish himself. So far, Jenny had yet to see anyone fitting that description fully; some men had blonde hair but were short, while others were tall and wearing a blue shirt but had definitive dark brown hair.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to fade and anxiety
was setting in. Had she come all this way to be forgotten or rejected? Perhaps John Thomas had saw her from a distance and decided that she was not what he wanted nor needed. What would she do if he did not appear? Most of her monies were sitting in her bank back home, waiting for news to be transferred.  All she had with her were a few coins that were hidden in one of her trunks, sewn into a quilt. The quilt was the only sentimental thing she had left of Mama.  She had left it to her daughter before she passed, sharing the story of how it came to be. 

Her best friend Mabel
and she had made it during the long winters back home in Pennsylvania, during the war while their husbands were off fighting. Both ladies were in the family way at the time, and it kept their minds occupied. Both women were to become war widows, remarrying after a proper mourning period to keep from becoming destitute.  Mabel and Jenny’s mother remained the best of friends, until Mabel’s new husband moved them west in hopes of taking advantage of the Homestead Act, promising free land in return for working the earthen soil. 

For several years, the two ladies kept in touch, but Mabel’s letters came to an abrupt end. Mama had fretted, wishing she knew what happened to her dear friend.
Jenny remembered Mama packing away the quilt, unwilling to let the last vestige of that friendship become worn. Only on the coldest nights did Mama pull it out.  Jenny was sad to think something could have happened to Mrs. Mabel. All her memories of Mama’s best friend were pleasant, and her son had been Jenny’s best friend.   Eventually Mama had come to terms with the loss; whether some ill had begotten Mabel or not, Mama still suffered from the loss of contact.  Their life in Pennsylvania had been good.  When Mama remarried the year Mabel moved away, Mr. Mason asked her if she’d mind too terribly calling him Pa.  Being a young girl, eager to please, she readily agreed. They moved several towns over where Mr. Mason had a fine dairy farm. Two more brothers had come along for Jenny, and life was about as perfect as could be.

Then one day everything changed. It was a balmy Sunday afternoon in late September. After church,
Jenny had went home with her best friend, Abigail Murdock, whose parents ran the local mercantile.  It had been an ideal day, trying on the latest dresses that arrived and gossiping over which boy they hoped would come to court them. Late afternoon came, and Mr. Richards, who owned a farm near Jenny’s, arrived at the mercantile with a somber look.  He asked to speak with Mr. Murdock. A few minutes later, Mr. Murdock returned giving the grim news to her.  There had been a freak wagon accident and her mother, step-father and two brothers had all perished. 

Jenny couldn’t remember much about the rest of that day.  She had woke up the next morning in the Murdock’s guest room with red, swollen eyes wishing she was in a nightmare that she could wake up from.  Abigail’s parents took her in
, and over the next few months everything changed. The farm was sold, leaving Jenny a fair savings to see her through, but the memories were too much. 

At only nineteen years old she felt completely alone in the world.
  Even living with her best friend, she felt no joy in life. She couldn’t seem to find a way out of her melancholy and after seeing an article about mail order brides, she became curious. And here she was, some months later, a thousand miles from everything she knew.

“Pardon me, ma’am, might you be Ms. Jenny Mason?” a strong, deep voice asked, breaking her reverie.

She looked up into eyes of emerald and knew at once this was her intended. Feebly, she nodded her head yes, rapidly wondering if she had taken leave of her senses.

“I was beginning to think you might have changed your mind,” she confessed.

“No ma’am. My deepest apologies, but my wagon broke a wheel on the way to town.” It was then Jenny noticed the filth on his trousers.  “This is not how I hoped our first meeting to go, but I didn’t want to take the time to clean up from fixing the wagon and keep you waiting any longer.  Forgive my lack of cleanliness.”

Jenny’s heart warmed.  Back home, she knew some ladies would be appalled at being greeted by a filthy fiancé, but not she.  No, his words confirmed what she had felt through his letters. He was a considerate man, his need to ease her mind trumping the need to make a presentable appearance.  That he could fix the wagon himself spoke of his skill and hard work. He would be a man she could depend on.  Maybe one day, even love.

“Considering the circumstances, Mr. Thomas, there is no need for forgiveness.” She took hold of the hand Mr. Thomas held out and stood up.

“I’d be obliged if you call me John,” he said. “That is, if you’d still like to be married.”

“I haven’t changed my mind, John,” she answered, the familiar address feeling strange but exciting, rolling off her tongue. “And please call me Jenny.”

“Preacher Jones is expecting us.  I had planned on us having time to grab a bite to eat beforehand and become better acquainted, but unfortunately the inciden
t with wagon occurred.  If you would feel more comfortable waiting until tomorrow, I can procure you a room for the night at the boardinghouse and return tomorrow.”

Again, Jenny was warmed at the thoughtfulness this man was showing. For the first time since meeting him several minutes ago, she took the time to observe him. He was a truly handsome man
, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he could not find a bride without sending away for one. But she knew instinctively, that they could have a good life together.  For the first time since her family had passed, she felt a glimmer of life return to her.

“There is no need for that.
I came here with a purpose, and I intend to fulfil it,” she replied to him.  The anxiety she had felt earlier was wearing off.  Something about John set her at ease.

They walked over to the parsonage where a kind looking, portly man answered the door.

“I’ve been expecting you, John.  And this must be Ms. Mason.  It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am.  I am Preacher Jones.”

Jenny immediately liked this older man, pleased to see the town had a preacher who did not appear to be the hellfire and brimstone type.  Vague recollections of her childhood flashed by her and she remembered a red-faced preacher who would always scream.  Sunday’s terrified her and she was glad when they moved to a new town with a new preacher.

The preacher brought his wife out and introduced her.  Mrs. Jones was as stout as her husband and had soft, gentle features. The woman took Jenny to a spare side room and helped her dress in her wedding gown. It may be a small wedding, but Jenny very much wanted to wear her mother’s gown. They left for the church next door and before they arrived at the building, Mrs. Jones stopped in her
garden to cut a bouquet of flowers for Jenny.

The vows were recited and soon Jenny and John were pronounced man and wife.  A peace that she couldn’t understand, washed over her.  She didn’t feel as though she had married a stranger.   Despite knowing this man for
approximately an hour, she felt he was a friend.

Chapter 2

John had a difficult time concentrating on his way back to the farm. God had surely blessed him when he sent him Jenny. She was beautiful, with the softest loo
king golden hair he had ever seen.   Although clothed modestly in a simple, muslin dress, he could see her trim waist with gentle curves a man could appreciate.  He’d never paid much attention to a woman’s body before, trying to be a gentleman, but he knew his wife’s pleased him. But more than an outer beauty, she seemed to possess an even more vibrant inner beauty and strength.

By this point, m
ost people in town knew he had ordered a bride.  Some joshed with him, but most understood the loneliness of life on the prairie. And goodness knew there weren’t many single ladies in town who piqued his interest.  When he sent away his advertisement, he wasn’t sure what to expect.  He’d had five responses, but only Jenny’s caught his attention.  Something in her letters spoke to his heart, and he’d half fallen in love with her before he ever met her.  When he saw her sitting on the bench outside the depot, he fell the other half.

She hadn’t expressed any disdain over his appearance, something he was likely doing the most berating of himself for.
The embarrassment of showing up to meet his intended covered in dirt would surely bring him humiliating memories for some time, but it was one of those things that just couldn’t be helped. The mild anxiety she had exhibited over marrying a stranger was to be expected, but she was strong and determined. Yes, he surely was a blessed man today.

Conversation flowed freely between them.  They
spoke briefly of their families; he did not linger long on the subject for fear of bringing negative memories for his new bride. They spoke of their favorite things, what they liked and enjoyed and even expectations of their future.

Jenny smiled easily, and every time she did, John couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen that smile before. It completely transformed her face, giving her an ethereal quality that swelled his heart. As they approached his farm, the house came into view.  He watched her closely, in hopes of catching her first reaction to her new home.

“That’s our house up yonder,” he said nodding his head in the direction of the house.

“Why, it’s beautiful John. I was half expecting a
soddie,” she exclaimed. “I mean, not that I would have been disappointed with a soddie, but this was a pleasant surprise,” she added.

John chuckled as his wife tried to cover up her response.  There were quite a few
soddies around outside of town. Lumber in the prairies was at a premium, but his father had insisted on a wooden structure for his mother. When they passed away, the house had become his, but lacked a woman’s touch after so many years of only men living there.

“To be honest, the inside needs a bit of work.  I’m afraid it’s become rather drab and you are free to spruce it up however you see fit. Since I lost my father, I’ve not done much to it
, and even then, it’s been over ten years since a woman has lived there.”

“I’m sure it is just fine, John,” his wife assured him.

For the first time since leaving town, they became silent. Jenny seemed at a loss for words and he allowed her the space to think.  He pulled up in front of the house and quickly jumped out to assist her down.  Leading her into the house, he showed her around. The first floor was largely open with a kitchen area, living area and a walled off bedroom to one side.  A ladder led to a loft area upstairs that could serve as a second bedroom.