His Mail-Order Valentine (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book 10) Read online

“Why don’t you take her home, Mrs. Brock?” Betsy suggested. “You don’t have no one at home to let the cat out of the bag, not with your daughter married and Jasper away at that boys school.”

  “What? Me? Why should I get involved in your misdeeds?” Mahulda barked.

  Ellie straightened. “Misdeeds?” she squeaked.

  “You know, Betsy, that’s a perfect idea!” Martha added, ignoring Ellie. “We’ll hide her at your house!”

  Ellie’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Hide me?”

  “Well, I … I don’t see why I need to get involved in this …,” Mahulda stammered.

  “Just until we find out how receptive Maude is going to be to the idea,” Mercy said.

  “Maude? What about her son?” Mahulda asked. “Doesn’t he have any say in the matter?”

  “No,” Mercy and Martha said.

  “Why should he?” Betsy asked. “Ain’t no one else had any say when their bride showed up.”

  “STOP!”

  The women froze, and fixed their attention on Ellie. She wrenched her arms out of Mercy and Martha’s hands and picked up her satchel. “I don’t know what you are going on about, but I want no part of it! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find my intended.” She shoved past them and began to march down the street. She glanced back only once and tried not to smile at their shocked faces. Squaring her shoulders, she marched on. It was then she heard the sound of footsteps chasing after her.

  Ellie’s survival instinct kicked in, and she did the first thing that came to mind. She ran.

  Two

  “Stop! Wait!” voices cried behind her.

  Ellie didn’t stop, and didn’t wait. Were these women out of their minds? They were total strangers, and they were chasing her down the street, for Heaven’s sake! Why? Was there something wrong with her intended that she didn’t know about?

  Finally, out of breath, she was forced to stop – and Martha the mercantile owner plowed right into her!

  Ellie stumbled back from the impact, landing on her rear in the middle of the street. She looked up at the four women who now stood staring down at her. “Really?” she gasped. “What is wrong with you people?”

  Several pairs of hands reached down and helped her to her feet, and the one called Betsy began to brush off her skirt. Not that there was much to brush – the ground was frozen solid. “We’re sorry, ma’am,” she said. “We just got a little excited is all.”

  “A little?” Ellie said in exasperation. “Chasing an innocent stranger down the street is the result of being a little excited? For crying out loud, what do you do when you’re really riled up?!”

  “We’re terribly sorry, dear,” Mercy said, “But you see, no one knows that you’re here.”

  “At least we don’t think so,” Martha added.

  “Why, the very idea!” Mahulda griped. “It’s appalling!”

  Everyone looked at her.

  “Well, it is,” she huffed.

  “I … I don’t understand,” Ellie managed as she waved them away from her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Someone in this town has been sending off for mail-order brides – and not telling the grooms first,” Mercy explained.

  “You can say that again,” muttered Betsy. She turned to Ellie. “These two here started it, along with one of their friends.”

  “Started what?” Ellie asked, confused.

  “Well, you see,” Mercy said haltingly, “we sort of sent away for a mail-order bride for our pastor last summer. It was a little bumpy for a while, but everything turned out very well.”

  “Then I sent away for one for my son Morgan,” Martha explained.

  “But then somebody sent for one for my son Garrett,” Mercy continued, “but we still don’t know who!”

  “The very idea!” Mahulda said disapprovingly.

  Elsie stood in shock. “Are you telling me … that someone sent for me, but didn’t tell my future husband?” Her last word came out an octave higher than the first.

  “‘Fraid so,” Betsy said. “We just happened to catch up to you before he did.”

  “You mean Mr. Smythe?” Ellie asked.

  “Mm-hmm,” Betsy answered with a nod.

  Ellie stared off into the distance. “He doesn’t know about me? Didn’t know I was coming?”

  “A travesty, to be sure,” Mahulda said with a frown.

  Ellie rubbed her temples. Obviously, this wasn’t going to work. She looked at the four women. “What am I going to do? If he didn’t even know I was coming and this was all some sort of elaborate joke, then what am I to do?”

  “That’s what we’re going to try to figure out,” Mercy said. “Unless you decide to run again, that is,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

  “I still say Mahulda should take her home,” Martha said.

  “I agree,” Betsy added.

  “Me too,” Mercy said. She turned to Mahulda. “It wouldn’t be for long. Once Julian gets a look at her, he’s going to want to marry her.”

  “That’s not how it always goes,” Mahulda pointed out. “The last two took a couple of weeks of convincing.”

  “Convincing?” Ellie croaked.

  Mahulda sighed. “Oh, fine – she can stay with us! But only for two weeks – that’s my limit!”

  “It’s settled then! Miss … oh dear.” Mercy turned to Ellie. “I’m sorry, but what was your name again, dear?”

  Ellie rubbed her temples again. “Ellie Sampson,” she groaned.

  “Mahulda, you take Miss Sampson home with you – we’ll break the news to Maude.”

  “Maude?” Mahulda barked. “You should be breaking the news to her son!”

  “Us?” Martha asked in shock. “No! That’s Maude’s job!”

  “Hurry along with Mrs. Brock now, dear,” Mercy said as she gave Ellie a little shove toward Mahulda.

  “But… but, but…”

  “No buts, dear – we know what we’re doing!”

  “That’ll be the day,” Betsy muttered as she shook her head and tried not to laugh. She looked at Ellie. “They mean well, and I’m sure this’ll turn out just fine. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  Mrs. Brock, looking mean, took Ellie by the arm. “Come along now. I guess I’m stuck with you.”

  Ellie didn’t even have a chance to grab her satchel. The woman’s grip was iron, and brooked no argument. Thankfully, Betsy snatched it up and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she yelped as her captor picked up the pace. “Where are you taking me?”

  The woman didn’t slow in the slightest. “To my house, while those feather-brains figure out what to do with you.”

  “Oh dear me!” Ellie cried.

  “Indeed,” Mahulda said as she pulled her along.

  “If that’s your opinion, why are you helping them?”

  Mahulda stopped and turned to her. “Because my own daughter sent herself out as a mail-order bride. I didn’t like it, not one bit. But I can’t argue with love – and she did get a very nice husband out of it. I just hope this works out for you, young lady.”

  Ellie swallowed hard. “So do I.”

  * * *

  “Well what a nice surprise!” Maude Smythe said as she opened her front door.

  “It’s a surprise, all right,” Betsy said with an amused smirk as she followed Martha and Mercy into the Smythes’ home.

  “I’ll go put on some tea,” Maude said as she led them down the hall.

  “Er … yes, that would be lovely,” Mercy said with a smile.

  “Is Jonathan at home?” inquired Martha as Maude ushered them into the parlor.

  “No, not at the moment. Why?”

  “What about Julian?” Mercy asked.

  “Julian is having Sunday supper with your son, remember?”

  “Oh yes, how silly of me,” Mercy said with a grimace.

  “Is something the matter?” Maude asked.

  Betsy stood, her smirk still in place. “Maybe you’d better let me fix t
hat tea, Mrs. Smythe, while these two explain themselves.” She walked past Maude into the kitchen.

  Maude knew that tone of voice from Betsy – something was afoot. “What is she talking about?” she asked, hands on her hips.

  Mercy wrung her hands in front of her. “He struck again!”

  “Who struck who?” Maude asked as she sat.

  Mercy and Martha sat. “Whoever ordered Garrett a mail-order bride has done it again!” Martha explained.

  Maude gasped. “No!”

  Mercy and Martha both nodded. “We’re afraid so,” Mercy said.

  “Who got it this time?” Maude asked with excitement.

  Mercy and Martha exchanged a quick look, then turned back to Maude. “Julian,” they said in unison.

  Maude’s mouth flopped open. “What?!”

  “You heard us,” Mercy said. “Julian’s mail-order bride just arrived in Independence.”

  “But … this can’t be! I didn’t plan on even talking to Julian about one until spring!”

  “Well, someone beat you to it, dear,” Mercy said. “We intercepted her right after she got off the stage!”

  “And we’ve got her stashed!” Martha added with a triumphant smile.

  “Stashed?” Maude repeated.

  “She’s … got a place to stay,” Mercy explained. “Hidden away for the time being.”

  “Where?” Maude asked as she fell back into her chair.

  “The Brocks’ place,” Martha told her. “She’ll be perfectly safe, and no one will think to look there.”

  “Lord have mercy!” sighed Maude. “Who is responsible for this?”

  “We have no idea, dear. Maybe after Julian gets married, we’ll find out.”

  “How? There aren’t any other single men in town to marry off,” Martha said.

  “Oh, I forgot about that,” Mercy sighed.

  “What am I going to tell Julian?” Maude lamented.

  “That’s why we’re here, dear.” Mercy said. “To help you break the news to him.”

  “I thought you said earlier it was her job to break it to him?” Martha reminded her.

  “Everybody needs a little help,” chirped Mercy.

  Maude was still slumped in her chair in shock. “Jonathan will be furious!”

  “Horace was too, dear. But he got over it. And I must say, I love Ammy to no end.”

  Maude stared at her blankly before she spoke. “Right. Ammy is a wonderful girl. What about this one? What’s she like?”

  “Well, we really don’t know much about her yet,” Mercy said. “Other than her name – Ellie Sampson.”

  “You mean that’s all you have?” Martha gasped as Betsy entered the room, the tea tray in her hands. “You don’t know where she’s from, how old she is, anything?”

  “She’s very pretty,” Martha said. “A mite thin though for my tastes ...”

  “She’s not marrying you!” Maude huffed. “She’s marrying Julian!”

  “If she marries at all,” Betsy said.

  They all stared at her. “Don’t say such things,” Mercy scolded. “Of course they’ll marry.”

  “I don’t know,” Maude said. “Just because everything happened to work out with Garrett ...”

  “And with my Morgan,” Martha added. “And I ordered the bride for him. We still don’t know what happened with Garrett.”

  Everyone looked at Betsy again. “Don’t you three be givin’ me them eyes, I told you I had nothing to do with it!”

  “Well, who else, then?” Martha asked.

  “Don’t know, don’t wanna know!” Betsy said adamantly as she began to pour.

  Mercy shook her head. “We’ll just have to deal with this. When are you going to tell Julian?” Maude asked.

  “I at least want to meet the girl first!”

  “Well, of course!” Martha assured her. “I’m sure Mahulda won’t mind some company after we’re done here.”

  “It’s settled then,” Mercy said. “We’ll all go to Mahulda’s house right after tea.” She glanced at the other ladies. “Sugar, anyone?”

  * * *

  Ellie continued to stumble along behind Mrs. Brock. At least Mrs. Brock was familiar with mail-order brides, seeing as how her own daughter had been one. But it didn’t settle the nervousness in Ellie’s gut, nor the fact that she’d just stepped into a precarious situation. What was she going to do if her intended refused her? How on earth was she going to get the money to go elsewhere? What if they tried to send her back to Oregon City? Then she would really be in trouble! But what was she going to do in the meantime?

  They stopped in front of a pretty blue house, one of the finest she’d ever seen. She gawked a moment before her hostess yanked her through the front gate. “You can stay in Eva’s old room until we get this figured out.”

  Ellie tried to stop, but the woman pulled her forward until they reached the front door. “Eva?”

  “My daughter. It hasn’t been easy not having her around, I can tell you!”

  “Oh my goodness …,” Ellie muttered.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I … I know of a girl back in Oregon City … but no, it couldn’t be. Never mind.”

  Mrs. Brock eyed her suspiciously, then opened the door and shoved her inside. She glanced around, then motioned Ellie toward the staircase. “Let’s get you settled into your room. I suppose you’re hungry?”

  Ellie nodded as she started up the stairs. “Yes, but I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “Nonsense! I’m not going to starve you. What kind of a person do you think I am?”

  Ellie turned and gave her a lopsided smile. What else could she do? She didn’t know this woman – she didn’t know any of them! And so far they had all acted very peculiarly!

  At the top of the stairs Mrs. Brock preceded her down the hall. They stopped at the second door on the right. “Where’s your husband?” Ellie asked the woman as she opened the door.

  “Probably napping in the library. You’ll stay in this room. Unpack your things and I’ll go fix you something to eat.”

  Ellie stepped into the room, then turned to say something – just as Mrs. Brock slammed the door. She dropped her satchel and fought a bout of dizziness – she really was hungry! She spotted a rocking chair by the window, and went and sat in it, taking a calming breath as she studied the room. It was bright and cheery.

  Which was more than she could say for herself. She tried to still her nerves. “What have I gotten myself into?” She took a few more deep breaths and let them out slowly, a habit that had usually helped when Earl would come home in a bad mood. But Earl was gone, and she hoped to never have to face the likes of him again.

  Her thoughts drifted back to her current predicament. She was at the mercy of these women, and didn’t know what to do. She had very little money, only enough for a night or two at a boarding house or perhaps stage fare to Salem. She supposed she should hear the women out and see what solution they came up with. After all, from the sounds of it this mess was no fault of hers. If some idiot in town was answering advertisements for mail-order brides, how could she have known? It seemed as if the joke was on the prankster, as the previous bride was now happily married. But there was no guarantee she’d be as lucky.

  Ellie got up, retrieved her satchel and placed it on the bed. She opened it and looked at her meager belongings: another dress, a small hand mirror and a comb, her Bible. It was all she had worth bringing. And until she found out exactly what was going on, she’d best not unpack ...

  A knock sounded at the door. Ellie turned. “Yes?”

  The door opened and Mrs. Brock entered, a tray in her hand. She crossed the room without saying a word and set it on a small desk. “This will have to do,” she said as she motioned to a plate of food. “Eat, rest, then I’ll help get this figured out.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “If my guess is right, Mercy, Martha and Maude will be banging on my door in a few moments. Maude
’s not going to let just anyone marry her son, and neither would I if I was her.”

  “They’re going to bring his mother here?”

  “Of course – wouldn’t you?”

  Ellie’s shoulders slumped. “Right now, Mrs. Brock … I’m not sure what I’d do.”

  “Oh, stop your fussing and let us get this straightened out. Besides, I’ve got my own problems to attend to. Like how I’m going to explain to Mr. Brock why you’re here!”

  Ellie sighed. “Again, I don’t want to be a bother… is there a boarding house in town –”

  “Nonsense – you’ll stay right here! I told them I’d put you up, and I mean to do it.”

  Ellie gave her a half-hearted smile and looked at the food. It smelled wonderful, whatever it was – some sort of stew? “All right. Thank you for the food.”

  “You eat up – by the time you’re done, they’ll most likely be here.”

  Ellie nodded, too tired and hungry to say anything more. She went to the desk, sat in the small chair there and, without looking at Mrs. Brock again, began to eat. Maybe by the time she finished, she thought, she’d be able to make better sense of it all ...

  Three

  Julian left the Vanders’ home satisfied from his meal, but less so from watching Garrett and Ammy exchange marital pleasantries. He’d noted how their shoulders moved as they reached to hold hands beneath the table. Jealousy had sparked in that moment, and he grimaced at the ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t been that jealous of Morgan with Daisy, even though Daisy was just as pretty, sweet and kind as Ammy.

  He supposed he was envious of his friend having something he could only remedy through marriage. And that was something he wasn’t able to do unless he did it for himself – which would take time, no matter how he looked at it ...

  “Hello, Julian.”

  He stopped and turned. “Oh! Where did you come from?”

  Bernice Caulder brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. “I was just on my way home. Would you like to walk me there?”

  Julian’s heart sank. He was now pretty much the only eligible bachelor in town, and Bernice was the only single female. Who knew how many people would try to match them up? “Er…” Oh for Heaven’s sake, Julian, he thought to himself, be a gentleman! She’s not that bad! “All right.”