Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21)

Read Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21) Online

Authors: Linda K. Hubalek

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Fifth In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #Illinois, #Sweden Emigrate, #Chicago, #Kansas Rancher, #Union Stackyards, #1890 Fat Stock Show, #American Horse Show, #Horseflesh, #Train Station, #Saloon, #Thugs, #Trouble, #Hunted, #Secrets

BOOK: Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21)
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Lilly: Bride of Illinois

American Mail-Order Bride Series

 

Copyright © 2015 by Linda K. Hubalek

Published by Butterfield Books Inc.

Amazon Edition, ASIN: B017GOTX46

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015918394

Paperback: ISBN-13: 978-1518893988, ISBN-10: 1518893988

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting this hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Except for the history of Chicago’s Union Stockyards and the November 1890 show events which did take place during the story’s timeframe, everything else mentioned in the book, the names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

A clean, sweet historical romance set in 1890.

Lilly Lind was forced to emigrate from Sweden two years ago, due to circumstances beyond her control. She finds a job as a garment maker in the Brown Textile Mill in Lawrence, Massachusetts, finally feeling as though she is settling in her new country. Then a suspicious fire burns the mill, making Lilly seek another way to survive. She answers a mail–order bride ad in the
Grooms’
Gazette
and sets off for Chicago, believing she will be a business owner’s wife.

Kansas rancher Seth Reagan travels to the Union Stockyards in Chicago to attend the 1890 American Fat Stock Show, the American Horse Show, and to purchase horseflesh to augment his herd. When arriving at the train station, he overhears a conversation between a young woman and a shady–looking man. Seth becomes concerned for the mail–order bride who is whisked away to a saloon, not to her new husband’s home.

When Seth goes to the saloon to check on the young woman, he finds her in trouble and offers to help her escape. While buying horses and arranging their return travel to Kansas, Seth realizes he would like to bring Lilly home with him, too, but she is still being hunted by the saloon owner’s thugs.

Lilly’s good fortune in meeting Seth makes her want to start a life with this man, but he came to Illinois for horses, not a bride. Would he want her after he learns of her secrets?

 

Please go to the
American Mail-Order Bride Series
website for the complete list of all fifty books available for your reading enjoyment.

To sign up for Linda Hubalek’s mailing list and receive notice of new titles as they are available, click
here
.

 

 

Prologue

 

September 1890

Lawrence, Massachusetts

Lilly Lind looked around the small park where approximately thirty of her co–workers—no, former co–workers—of the Brown Textile Mill gathered together at the request of Roberta McDaniel, their former mill manager. The clothing factory burned to the ground last week, ending their employment, and their income, leaving them with no way to pay for food and shelter.

Lilly was still reminded of the fire every day—by her lingering cough caused by breathing the smoke, the burn holes in her dress, and particularly the nightmare reminders of being trapped in swirling, black smoke while beating frantically on a red hot, locked door to attempt to open it. Even awake, her mind would flash back when she least expected it, to the horrible sound of hundreds of women screaming from the terror and panic of being burned to death.

What a contrast this morning’s calm scene was from the vision of hundreds of frantic workers scrambling out of the smoking building into the street, yelling friends’ names, panicking about who might not have escaped.

Lilly wished they were meeting at this green, lovely spot along the Merrimack River under better circumstances, instead of an informal meeting of unmarried and widowed women wondering how to support themselves. There were other mills in town, but not all of the Brown Textile Mill workers could be absorbed into the other mills.

Lilly pushed the lock of strawberry blonde hair back behind her ear, as it had escaped her pinned curls while she looked around. The September air was crisp this morning, but not cold yet. Facing the coming winter without jobs made everyone’s situation worse, too.

Even though the job didn’t pay much, it had been a steady job. It was hot, repetitive work—sewing as fast as possible to complete a garment, only to begin the next—but it was a step up from the last thing she’d done to earn money.

Working in a laundry house her first year in America caused extreme pain in her back from lifting the wet clothes, and the hot water and lye soap made her hands and forearms red, blistered and painful. After almost a year at the factory job, she had pricked fingers instead of raw skin, but Lilly considered the mill work an improvement overall.

She couldn’t believe this fire occurred just two months after the town survived a major natural disaster.

On the morning of July 26th, a rare tornado plowed through part of Lawrence. Lilly was at work, and the mill wasn’t hit, but the tenant house she had lived in literally blew apart. She’d found a few pieces of clothing and possessions scattered in the street, but she was instantly homeless. After sleeping on the floor in a friend’s room for a week, she moved into a boarding house room to share with another co–worker.

Lilly and her roommate, fellow Swede Isabella Stolt, and friends Tabitha Phillips and Trinity Kroger stood together, talking about their situation while waiting for the meeting to start.

Lilly realized Roberta was clapping her hands above her head to get everyone’s attention. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today,” Roberta spoke loudly above the few who were still talking among themselves.

After everyone turned their attention to Roberta, she continued, “All of us have been left jobless by the fire in the factory. Mr. Brown has no intention of rebuilding. I, like you, had no idea what to do next, but my sister recently went to Kansas as a mail–order bride. Miss Elizabeth Miller, a matchmaker in Beckman, found her future husband for her.”

Trinity saw another friend, Hope Middleton arriving, and waved her over to join their group.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Trinity said, a little out of breath.

“It’s just started,” said Isabella.

Trinity looked confused because of what Roberta had said. “Is that what the plan is? Are people actually thinking about becoming mail–order brides?”

“I went to see this matchmaker yesterday to find out if she had any other prospective grooms and she gave me the newest edition of the
Grooms’ Gazette
, listing men from all over the United States who are looking for brides. She gave me fifty copies, which I’m sharing with you today. If you’re interested in being a mail–order bride, please come forward.”

“I’ll get copies for us,” Hope said as she turned to walk toward Roberta.

“Father tried to arrange a marriage for me before he decided to bring us to America,” Isabella said, “but the boy had another girl in mind. Without Father …” her words and gaze drifted off, as if thinking of him. Then she spoke again, more decisive now. “Father would have had any suitor investigated.” She reached for the paper and nodded. “That is what I will do.”

“Sign up to be someone’s wife, not knowing who this person is?” Lilly didn’t know what to think of the idea.

“Here’s one for each of us,” Hope said as she handed a newspaper to each of them.

“I need to think about this,” Trinity stated, as she chewed on her lip. “Why can’t we look for new jobs? Gosh, is it really
that
hopeless?”

But Tabitha wouldn’t take the paper when Hope held it out to her. “I don’t know if I could do this. I’d be scared to death that I’d end up with a mean man.” Tabitha shook her head again to Hope’s offer. “I have enough savings to get me to my cousin’s home in Missouri.”

Lilly caught Hope biting her lip, knowing she was trying not to comment on what Hope thought of Tabitha’s relation.

“What will you all do in the meantime while we wait to hear from these men?” Hope asked.

“I should be able to leave right away,” Tabitha said. “I’m already packed, and all that remains is to buy my ticket.”

“There is a family in need of a housemaid,” Isabella said. “But only for one month. Their maid just had a baby, and she will return. The baker’s wife helped me get the job. I am to start tomorrow.”

She opened up the newspaper to see little ads. Lilly slowly read the first advertisement at the top of the first column. Basically it was just a few words, describing the man and where he lived, and what he required of his future wife.

When Lilly came to America two years ago, she wore out her Swedish to English translation book, trying to learn to speak and read English. She was in America and needed to fit in, but try as she might, anyone could tell from her accent she was from a Scandinavian country.

“So how does this work? Do we write to each person?” Lilly looked up to Trinity.

“I think you’d pick out a few who might interest you, and start with them. Where would you want to live? Is there a man’s profession you’d feel comfortable with?”

They whispered amongst themselves, while Roberta continued to speak, saying, “You won’t hear anything for a month, ladies. If someone needs a place to stay, let’s look to each other …”

“I’d like to go somewhere there are more Swedes than here in Massachusetts. And more open country rather than the stifling smell of this factory town,” Isabella said in Swedish to Lilly. Isabella had only been in American for three months, arriving in New York then traveling to the Boston area to find work. Her time living alone in New York City, waiting for her parents to recover and be released from quarantine, and after they passed, had been overwhelming. Lilly knew Isabella longed for the fresh, country air and the quieter feeling of safety in a smaller town. Although Isabella worked diligently to learn English, she lapsed back to her native tongue when stressed.

“I’ve heard there are more Swedish settlements in Minnesota, Illinois or Kansas than here in the Northeast. I wonder what the weather is like out West,” Lilly mused.

“Surely it’s not any worse that the northeasters we experienced last winter. I think I’d prefer to go south if I had a choice,” Trinity added to the conversation.

“Even if you write to these ads now, it could take weeks to get letters back and forth between you and the prospective groom. What will everyone do in the meantime?” Lilly was grateful Tabitha was worried for their group, even though Tabitha had made up her mind what to do.

“Oh, this sounds promising,” Trinity sounded hopeful. “Mr. John Witherspoon of Clarksburg, West Virginia is in need of a wife. He’s a widower. He’s looking for a young lady who’s matrimonially inclined.” Trinity grinned. “That could be me, I suppose. I hadn’t considered trying to find a husband. All I’ve done my entire life is work. I haven’t the luxury of attending socials.”

“Men need wives for so many reasons,” Roberta said, over the din of the crowd. “I want to make sure every one of you finds a way to survive.”

“Oh, here’s an interesting one,” Trinity jumped in again. “Ship captain, gone most of the year. Widower, with eight children, needing woman to cook, clean and take care of family. Gracious, that sounds like a lot of work. It might make sewing look easy.” Everyone had a chuckle about that. “But, I can’t believe I’d consider something like this.”

“Well, if you loved children and didn’t want to answer to a man, it could be a good life,” Lilly said, but it didn’t appeal to her. She grew up in the Swedish farmland in the
Småland
providence of southern Sweden instead of by the sea, and yearned to see open spaces again.

“What do you think of this one for you, Lilly?” Chicago, Illinois businessman wants young, attractive American woman who can sing and play an instrument. Request she be in her early twenties, blonde, and tall. Please send photo.’ Besides being tall and blonde, you love to sing and you said Illinois has a large Swedish immigrant population,” Hope suggested.

“But the ad doesn’t give a description of the man though. I wonder what kind of business he owns,” Tabitha mused.

What should I do?
Lilly wondered. Life was rough in Sweden, but things hadn’t been much better here so far. “I’ve always talked my way into finding odds and ends jobs, be it cleaning fish or scrubbing laundry, so I know I can continue to scrape by…until I find a groom to pay my way out of this city,” Lilly said with a shy smile, looking around at her circle of friends.

“I don’t know if I can be a mail–order bride,” Trinity said reluctantly.

“Do think about it, Trinity,” Lilly encourage her. “This might be the solution we’re looking for.”

“Maybe,” Trinity replied, but didn’t look convinced. “Let’s meet for lunch this week.”

“Excellent idea,” said Isabella. “We can speak more on the issue then.”

“If we do this, we’ll all go our own separate ways,” Trinity added, sounding sad. From the looks on their faces, the other friends worried about this as well.

“We’ll never get husbands standing around here feeling sorry for ourselves,” Hope declared as she picked up her skirt and started walking across the grassy park.

Lilly looked around at the women leaving the park or still talking in groups. What will happen to the mixture of women who’d spent their days sewing next to each other in the textile mill? Lilly hoped everyone would have a better life than their present situation, but realistically, she knew the odds were against that. Some would find happiness, others could disappear in the dark alleys of despair, drug addiction or death.

Lilly felt like a big sister to Isabella and was worried what the younger immigrant would do next. She linked her arm through Isabella’s as they walked out of the park. “Come on, Isabella, it’s time us Swedish girls find two rich, American husbands.”

Isabella smiled and said, “Yes, I am ready.”

Lilly and Isabella spent the afternoon in their shared boarding house room reading the
Grooms’ Gazette.

“Listen to this one, Isabella.” Lilly couldn’t believe some of the ads men paid to put in the paper. “This ad says ‘I’m good looking, 39, never married. Need a beautiful woman between the ages of 20 to 25. Do not apply unless you have at least $2,000 to put in my bank account.’ Ha! So the man wants a woman to bring money into the marriage so he doesn’t have to work? Or does he have a debt he needs to pay off? What woman has $200, let alone $2,000?”

“I think the ad Hope read this morning is still the one I’m going to write to,” Lilly said as she read the advertisement she’d circled earlier today.”

Chicago, Illinois businessman wants young attractive American woman who can sing and play an instrument. Request she be in her early twenties, blonde, and tall. Please send photo.

Lilly’s future in America hadn’t turned out as she had planned, so why stay in Lawrence? Why not correspond with this man and find out more about him? It was time for her to forget the past and move on.

“I believe I have found one gentleman to write to. Here is the advertisement he placed,” Isabella read from the paper.

To the dear ladies looking to find a husband: I am a thirty–seven–year–old man of not inconsiderable means looking to find a wife for whom to provide a decent, honest living. I am six foot two inches tall and not terribly thin, but certainly not running to fat. The black in my hair has not yet begun to gray, and my brown eyes are still sharp. I am an accountant by trade, with a small home out in the country near Yellow Springs. Any interested lady may apply.

Isabella glanced up from her paper to Lilly. “A small home out in the country is just the kind of home I wish to live in. Mr. Donald Jenks is much older than I, but he sounds established and solid. I don’t want to have to move again should something happen.”

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