Romance: Mail Order Bride "The Ideal Bride" Clean Christian Western Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series) (177 page)

Chapter 2

“Mrs. Williams, if you would just wait outside please.”

“Please, call me Bethany.”

“Well, Bethany,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “Mr. Fitch here will talk you through the process for now. I’ll be asking you a few questions after that. I have a client inside my office at the moment so you’ll have to wait. It won’t take long.”

With that, he walked back inside and shut the door to his room a little too loudly.

Bethany tried to read him but couldn’t quite figure him out. Her first impression of Richie wasn’t too bad. He looked intimidating but sounded polite. Knowing first impressions should not be a basis for judging someone, she went to where Mr. Fitch was seated. His table was set just outside Richie’s office. Standing up he gestured Bethany to sit down across from him. She had seen him a couple of times roaming about the factory since she had started working here. It was his job to report the factory’s progress to Richie.

“I presume you have something to say. Is this in regards to a loan?”

“Yes, indeed. Can you tell me exactly how long until I have to return it?”

“Not more than two months I’m afraid.”

“Oh. And are there any special conditions? What if for some reason it takes me longer than that to get it back to you? What then?” she asked cautiously.

Clearing his throat, he looked at Bethany through his spectacles. “This isn’t exactly a charitable organization, ma’am. We make money by selling clothes. However, Mr. Richard has allowed the employee loan benefit to those of you who have money issues. Just as a bank would give a loan and set a due date after which you have to pay the fine, we’re following more or less the same approach. The only difference is we give you double the amount of time that a bank would. Our terms are quite practical if you think about it.”

What he was saying seemed sensible enough, she thought. Isabelle had laid it on thick, her warnings seeming a bit unnecessary. Perhaps she was judging these people too harshly.

“How much is the fine?”

“I’m sure we won’t come to that.” said Mr. Fitch. Taking pity at her worried expression, he told her, “It’s not too much. Just a small amount is added to the amount due.”

“I see. Can I go see Mr. Richie now?”

“You’ll have to wait. His client will be out shortly.”

Bethany sat with her hands in her lap, considering the situation she was getting herself into. It wasn’t by any means wrong. They were following a set of rules so that no one would just take their money and leave for good. If it meant they would profit after the deadline then so be it. At least she’d have enough to survive the two months. Drew would be done with his school session in a month; summer was coming up. Maybe she could make some embroidered accessories and sell them in the market to pay back the loan. She would so anything to keep them from adding a fee.

The door to Richie’s office opened as he walked his client out. Leaving each other with some parting words, they shook each other’s hands and then Richie sauntered over to her. He looked impeccable in his waistcoat and tights as he came to a stop and held out a hand to her.

Bethany hesitated a little before putting her hand in his. He brought it to his lips and gave it a sloppy kiss. He seemed like trouble. Bethany noticed various scars on his neck and face, his eyes looking bloodshot. He pulled her up from her seat then let go of her hand. “Come on in, Bethany.”

He followed her inside. Bethany jumped a little at the sound of the door closing loudly behind her. Settling into a seat in front of his big mahogany desk, she glanced at him. He was pulling out a cigar from a box on his table. Lighting it up, he took a long drag and watched her. Bethany could feel his eyes on her as she looked at her hands in her lap, trying to make as little eye contact as possible. She felt uncomfortable in his presence.

“So, you need a loan, huh?”

“Um yes, I do.”

Taking another drag, he asked hoarsely, “Why should I give you my money? Tell me why you need it.”

“I’m a widow, sir. My husband died last year, leaving us behind. I have three young children who have needs, which I’m afraid I won’t be able to fulfill any longer unless I get some money.”

Richie looked down at her then asked, “Can you not get by on your monthly wages?”

“Not really,” she said sheepishly. “I only work the morning shift because I have to take care of my children as well.”

“That’s quite a situation,” he said. Lowering his cigar, he took out a typed form and handed it over to Bethany. She read it carefully.

“It’s an undertaking, but if you agree to the terms and sign at the bottom, you will get your money.”

Making sure there were no other odd terms except the ones that Mr. Fitch had just told her, she grabbed the quill in front of her and signed at the bottom.

“Give it to Fitch. He’ll hand you the amount you need.” Eyeing her a last time, he dismissed her. “Good day.”

Turning around, she walked out of his office to Mr. Fitch, feeling a huge weight lifted off her shoulder.

Chapter 3

French Prairie, Willamette Valley, Oregon

The lands were being claimed by the immigrants pouring into Oregon from the Eastern part of the country. Matthew was one of these immigrants, having arrived about a couple months ago from Nebraska via the Oregon Trail. His family owned a ranch there and had sent him out here to claim any piece of land he could. Oregon’s provisional regime was giving land to unmarried and married settlers arriving in the West free of cost.

Matthew had a knack for running farms. Having followed in his father’s footsteps of becoming a ranch owner, he knew the expansion of their farming business would surely be fruitful. His father was delighted at the opportunity that had presented itself right when they needed it. Not wanting to miss it, Matthew’s father devised a plan to set up another farm on the land Matthew would claim upon his arrival in Oregon. It meant more crops and more livestock to sell. His older brother was a trader in Nebraska, selling goods and livestock from their farm. Matthew overlooked the ranch while his brother dealt with the traders. He was reluctant to leave at first, not wanting to abandon the farm, but his father agreed to take charge of it in his absence, even in his old age.

It had not taken him long to claim the land he wanted in Oregon. It was quite peaceful here, the land much greener and more fertile. It was a good place for farming. Matthew had brought with him a couple hundred dollars and an errand boy, Leroy, from home. He had hired a few laborers to work in the fields. The land he had claimed had grass seed already growing out front. With the help of his workers he had planted the parsnips and sweet potatoes on the back side of the farm. There was still plenty of land left to plant more crops and orchards. He had not decided what else to grow yet. There was a small house on the far-left of the land where Matthew was staying and a stable where he kept the horses. It was an old building that needed some renovation. Matthew had not considered renovating it as soon as he had arrived. He wanted to save his money for the crops and the horses which he needed to buy.

Two months later, he still had not purchased any furniture. He had no interest in surrounding himself in luxury. He was quite content to sleep on a rug for the time being. Until his business here started to run as well as he hoped, he wouldn’t waste a single penny he had brought along with him.

One Sunday morning, he woke up to the sounds of horses pulling up in front of his house. He wasn’t expecting any company. Putting on his white cotton shirt he ambled his way out the front door, his eyes squinting at the blazing light from the sun. Two men riding on horseback stopped just as they spotted Matthew coming out.

Both looked older than him, probably in their 30’s. They looked quite alike, as if they were related. They climbed down their horses, holding the reins and handed them over to Fred, the stable guy. One of them had a pale face and dark wind-blown hair. The other looked slightly older with a small beard and the same dark hair, his face tanned. Giving Matthew a half smile, the younger one spoke,

“Good day sir. You must be Matthew Russell. I’m Chris Townsend. This is my older brother, Thomas. We’ve come here to talk business with you, if you would like to hear us out.”

Matthew glanced from Chris to Thomas, confused and surprised by their sudden arrival. They both seemed eager to discuss whatever they had in mind. He could tell it from their expressions.

“To what do I owe this arrival?”

This time Thomas replied, his voice a bit gruff compared to Chris’s friendly voice. “We heard you moved here some time back. We’re the middlemen. We buy the produce from the farms around here then sell it to the markets over in Portland and Salem.”

“Looks like you know what you’re doing. You have a farm back at home?” asked Chris.

“Yes, in Nebraska. Word spreads quickly around here,” Matthew said.

“It sure does,” Chris said, crouching down to sit on the steps.

“I would invite y’all inside, but the house has no furniture right now.”

Shaking his head slowly, Chris replied, “It’s alright out here.” His eyes skimmed across the field, admiring the vast land.

Thomas stood at the foot of the steps, his feet propped up against the railing. “What exactly do you grow here apart from the grass here out in front?”

“Parsnips and sweet potatoes,” Matthew answered. “There’s some space left to grow berries. I think huckleberries would do just fine.”

“Ah, yes. Berries are quite popular here.” Chris got up, running a hand through his hair and asked, “Do you mind showing us the fields in back?”

“Not at all.” Walking around the house, Matthew felt odd trusting these strange men. They seemed nice but he had no way of knowing whether they were telling the truth. They could very well be thieves, for all he knew.

Stopping at a spot with a good view of the fields on either side, he turned to the brothers and finally said, “I need some time to think about it. I’m new here. We don’t really know each other. How about we make sure of everything before we start trading?”

Sharing a knowing glance, the brothers seemed to understand his concern. Thomas put on his hat and took out a card. It had their company name and address. Handing it over to Matthew he said, “We get it, sir. Your trust in us is important for the work ahead. To tell you the truth, when we first started this, the farms we visited would not even let us see their land. Tell you what, you think about this before the harvesting begins. Our office is back in Portland, The Townsenders Trading Company. If you come to town, do pay us a visit.”

Matthew nodded. Looking at the time on his watch, he said, “Thank you gentlemen for reaching out. I will definitely consider the deal.”

Shaking hands with Matthew, they bid him farewell then went back the way they came.

As they left, Matthew noticed that the sun had disappeared behind the gray clouds. It looked like a downpour was headed their way. This would be the first rain since he arrived. All in good time, he thought. The harvesting season was approaching and the crops needed as much water as they could get. Looking up at the sky, he felt a spatter of rain on his face. It had started. Taking cover, he ducked inside and went into the kitchen to make some tea. The house felt so empty with just him there. He thought he could manage to live here alone but he longed for a companion, someone to talk to, and someone to take care of his needs.

Chapter 4

Lawrence, Kansas

Alice and James scampered around the little garden of their house, giggling and squealing. Bethany watched them through the kitchen window, smiling to herself. Seeing their joyful faces made her forget all the pain bottled up inside, albeit just for a while. Ever since she had borrowed the money from Richie, she had felt relieved yet worried as to how she was going to pay him back. There was a gold cross necklace hanging around her neck. She might get some cash if she sold it, she thought. She had no idea how much it was even worth, whether it would cover the amount she had loaned.

Straining the pasta that had just finished boiling, she ran it under cold water then began to cook it with the vegetables she had bought. The children loved pasta. Bethany added some cheese over the top and let it melt. Walking to the open door, she called out to Alice and James to come inside. Wondering where Drew was, she quickly looked around the house but couldn’t find him. He must be in his room, she decided. He had been spending an awful lot of time holed up in there. His vacations had started and yet he seemed gloomy and distant. Bethany would ask him what was wrong but all she got in reply was, “nothing.”

Turning off the stove, she made her way carefully up the stairs. Reaching Drew’s bedroom door, she knocked lightly.

“Drew dear, mama has made your favorite pasta.”

Hearing no response, she thought maybe he was asleep, but as she opened the door, she found him curled up on his bed, sniffing with tears rolling down his face. Bethany’s heart sank. She approached him quietly, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Seeing his mama on his bed, he settled in her arms as she wrapped them tight around him, soothing him with her voice.

“Sssh. Don’t cry my beautiful boy. Mama’s here.”

Laying his head on her stomach, he spoke, his voice a little strained, “I miss Papa.”

Another tear fell down his cheek. Bethany wiped it away with her finger. “I miss him too, Drew.”

“Will I ever have another daddy?”

Perplexed at his question, she said, “I don’t know. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Things would be easier then. You won’t have to work or leave us with Mrs. Bailey.”

“That is true. But I’m not sure anyone would want to marry your mama. A widow isn’t exactly a catch.”

Saddened by her words, he looked away at the ceiling. Bethany didn’t know how to make him feel better. She could sense he needed a father. It was written all over his face. Bethany thought about what to say to make him smile. Ruffling his hair, she smiled at him and said, “I’ll think about it, Drew. But you should know, it’s not going to be easy finding someone who would marry me.”

Drew’s face lit up at his mother’s words. Sitting up, he kissed her on her cheek and she laughed. Kissing him back, she wiped his tear-stained cheeks. “Come on now. Alice and James are waiting for lunch. You don’t want to miss the pasta,” she reminded him. Grinning, he leapt out of bed. Leaving his room, he treaded down the stairs with Bethany, hand in hand.