“McKenzie?” Jonah asked. “Isn’t that a man’s name?”
Zach shrugged. “She says it’s her name. I’m going to trust that she’s telling me the truth.”
Jonah laughed. “I didn’t mean that, Zach. It’s just that I’ve never heard of a woman with that name, unless it was a surname. So, when is she coming to Pine Haven?”
“We’re just corresponding for now. What is it that Lucille called it? Oh, yes, that I was courting her through the mail system.”
“That sounds like something Lucille would say. I’m surprised she became a mercantile owner instead of a writer of love stories, with that imagination of hers,” said Jonah.
“I agree.” Zach’s eyes lingered on the initials M.L.W. and the return address on the envelope. At this point, it still seemed like he might never meet her.
“You know, Zach, I can’t imagine ever finding a bride this way—or any way, for that matter.”
“I wasn’t sure I should do it at first. I’m still not sure. I have to admit, though, that it’s been an interesting way to meet a woman.”
“Were any of the other letters you received any good?”
“No. This was the only one. You’re welcome to respond to some of the other letters. Be warned, however, that unless you’re wealthy and of high standing in society, you probably won’t get a response.”
“I reckon I’ll pass,” Jonah said. “But I am happy for you, Zach. I know how much you’ve been in prayer about this whole thing, and I hope it works out for you.”
“Me, too. You know, when I promised Will that I would take Davey as my own son, I never imagined at the time that he would need a mother. I mean, he’s got me, and Rosemary is a good mother figure in his life. After his fourth birthday, I realized that I wasn’t really holding up my end of the bargain in adopting him. I want him to have two parents. I know what it’s like to be an orphan, and I wish someone had adopted me. I made out all right, by the grace of God, but it still would have been nice to have people to call Ma and Pa.”
“You have to want to marry her for you, too, not just for Davey,” Jonah pointed out.
“I know. I talked awhile to Asa about that. I would like to get married for my own sake. I see Asa and Rosemary and the strong marriage they have, and I remember the loving marriage my parents had before they died. And even Fred and Lucille love each other, despite Lucille’s sometimes difficult personality. So, yes, it’s for me, too, and I hope she will want to be married to me because she loves me, not because she’s able to tolerate me for the sake of a marriage of convenience.”
Jonah shrugged. “Marriage isn’t for me; that’s one thing I’m sure of. But, I know that’s not the case with most folks. Since you’ve prayed about it, God knows your heart, and your desire is true.”
“Thanks, Jonah,” Zach said.
“I best be getting back to work. Besides, I’m probably keeping you from opening that very important letter,” Jonah said with a wink.
Zach chuckled. “You’re right about that.”
After Jonah left, Zach tore open the letter. His eyes traveled down the words that had been so precisely penned on the page. “McKenzie Worthington, I can’t wait to meet you,” he said out loud, surprising himself.
That night, Zach wrote yet another letter, as if responding quickly would ensure receiving a quicker response from McKenzie.
November 26, 1881
Dear McKenzie,
No, I have not lived in the Montana Territory my whole life. I was born and raised in Chicago, and I have no siblings. My parents died when I was twelve, and I was placed in an orphanage near Chicago because I had no other known living relatives.
Two years later, I left the orphanage to strike out on my own. A photograph I once saw of the Montana Territory prompted me to ask questions about the land. I had always wanted to own my own ranch, as did my Pa, so after much prayer, I traveled to Montana. I worked for several ranches in various different towns to get experience. When I was nineteen, my best friend, Will Mitchell, and I decided to purchase some land together near Pine Haven and set up a ranch. The Lord blessed us beyond what we could ever imagine. Although Will and his wife, Bess, died of the fever three years ago, I continue to run the ranch with the help of some hired hands.
There are no hotels in Pine Haven. The nearest hotel is fifty miles north, in Windsor. Yes, I have heard of Canfield Falls. I once worked for a ranch in that area. It is about twenty-five miles west of Pine Haven. The closest town, Oak Winds, is fifteen miles away.
What are some of your hobbies? Does your family live in Boston? Have you ever been married? What made you decide to answer my advertisement?
Sincerely,
Zach
Zach stared at his completed letter. He felt tempted to erase the last sentence, but he really did want to know why she had responded to his ad—why she had chosen him. Hoping the question wouldn’t deter her from responding again, he folded the letter and placed it in the envelope.
***
Zach and McKenzie continued to correspond throughout the following months, each writing a response the same day they received a letter, and almost always the moment after reading it.
December 13, 1881
Dear Zach,
I’m sorry to hear about the death of your parents and the deaths of your best friend and his wife. Both of my parents are still living, as are my sisters, so although I cannot truly understand your loss, I can and do sympathize.
Some of my hobbies are social activities, knitting, taking care of Mother’s flower garden, and dancing. I attend many balls and tea parties in the city during the year. What are your hobbies?
Yes, my family lives in Boston; I’ve lived here my entire life. I reside with my parents, Arthur and Florence. My older sister lives in Boston with her husband, Maxwell, and their son, Maxwell Jr., whom we call Nate. (His middle name is Nathaniel.) My other sister moved away from Boston about three years ago.
No, I have never been married. I decided to answer your advertisement because I have long found the West to be intriguing. I am also matrimony-minded, and your advertisement was among the ones I found to be of interest. What made you decide to advertise for a mail-order bride? I’m sure you received many responses. I am curious about your decision to choose mine.
What are some of the social activities in Pine Haven? Do you travel to Canfield Falls often?
Most sincerely,
McKenzie
***
McKenzie sat in the chair in her room and thumbed through the letters she had received from Zach. She had lost count of the times she had read each letter. Thoughts of the man she would someday meet filled her mind, and she found herself thinking about him more often than she cared to admit. Did he think of her often? Was he eager to meet her? Would he help her find Kaydie? Yes, Kaydie, thought McKenzie, the very reason I find myself preparing to make such a carefully planned trip to a place thousands of miles away. Not to get married, but to rescue Kaydie. McKenzie sighed. It would still be some time before the weather was conducive to travel, and she was growing more and more concerned about Kaydie’s safety and well-being.
McKenzie reached for the decorated, wooden box on her desk. She opened the lid and carefully placed Zach’s letters inside. She then knelt down on the floor and slid the box under her bed until it was pressed flush against the wall. No one would ever think to look there.
So far, it had been somewhat easy to keep her correspondence with Zach Sawyer a secret. Biddie had kept her promise of hand-delivering any letters to McKenzie as soon as they arrived, and McKenzie made sure that her parents never knew about the envelopes she received from the Montana Territory.
The next day, McKenzie spent the afternoon Christmas shopping with Helen. “I will carry in your parcels, Miss McKenzie,” Lawrence announced as he helped McKenzie down from the carriage when they returned to the Worthington residence after driving Helen home.
“Thank you, Lawrence. You may bring them up to my room, please.” McKenzie reached for Lawrence’s hand and stepped carefully out of the carriage. Holding up the corner of her dress, she made her way up the porch steps and opened the front door.
Her mother came out of the sitting room. “Finally, you’re home,” she said, her voice flat with apparent frustration.
“Hello, Mother. I was just shopping with Helen. Is something wrong?”
“What is the meaning of this letter?” her mother asked, rushing toward McKenzie and waving an envelope in her hand.
“What—what do you mean, Mother?” McKenzie held her breath. She recognized the blue envelope and wondered how her mother could have acquired possession of it.
“I mean this letter here,” her mother said, her voice rising in pitch.
“Oh, how nice! I received some mail?” McKenzie smiled with feigned surprise. She reached out and attempted to retrieve the letter with all the ladylike assertiveness she could muster.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” her mother warned her. “You’re not getting this letter until you tell me what this is all about. Why would you be receiving a letter from someone in the Montana Territory, of all places?”
“The Montana Territory?” McKenzie asked. She racked her brain to come up with a reasonable explanation for the letter. If she told the truth, her mother would forbid her to continue corresponding with Zach, which would ruin McKenzie’s plans to meet him—and to rescue Kaydie. The only thing left to do was lie. Quick, McKenzie, think of something. McKenzie willed her mind to think of a convincing excuse that would quell her mother’s concerns. She reached up to twirl a tendril of hair between her thumb and forefinger. Thankfully, Zach hadn’t written his name in the return address but had written only, “Pine Haven, Montana Territory.” That left McKenzie with more room for creativity.
“You sound as though you’re surprised to be receiving a letter from a place that’s far enough away to be on the other side of the earth,” her mother fumed.
“Mother, may I look at the envelope?” McKenzie asked, making her voice sound syrupy sweet.
Her mother paused for a moment, then relented and handed McKenzie the letter. McKenzie stared down at the envelope, eager to remove herself from this uncomfortable confrontation with her mother and even more eager to read Zach’s latest letter. “Was this letter just delivered?” McKenzie asked, confused as to why Biddie hadn’t kept it for her to read in secret.
“About twenty minutes ago,” said her mother. “I nearly opened it myself because it seemed as though you would never return.”
McKenzie nearly let a gasp escape her lips. What if her mother had opened the envelope? McKenzie didn’t allow herself to imagine the consequences that would have come, had her mother been any more impatient.
“Where’s Biddie?” McKenzie asked. She should have known better than to have trusted Biddie with something so important. While she liked the maid, McKenzie also knew that Biddie could be scatterbrained at times.
“Biddie?” her mother asked. “What does Biddie have to do with the letter?”
“I just remembered that I hadn’t seen her today,” said McKenzie.
“You haven’t seen her because she’s not here.”
“She’s not here?”
“No, she is ill today. At least, that’s what she says. You know hired help. Completely unreliable in times of need,” her mother said, rolling her eyes.
“She’s ill?” asked McKenzie. Of all days for Biddie to be ill, this had to be the day.
“Yes, McKenzie, she’s ill. She stayed home today. Now, let’s stop speaking of something so insignificant and return to the matter at hand. Who is the letter from?”
“Oh, yes, the letter,” said McKenzie. “I’d almost forgotten.” She turned the envelope over in her hand. Quick, McKenzie, think of something, anything! “Poor, poor woman,” McKenzie said after a moment, shaking her head and closing her eyes.
“What poor woman?” her mother asked, sounding curious.
“The one who wrote me this letter.”
“A poor woman wrote you that letter?” her mother asked. “I will say one thing for the poor woman—she has nice penmanship. But, never mind that. Tell me the details.”
“May we sit in the parlor, Mother?” McKenzie asked. “My feet are tired from shopping all day.”
“Of course,” she said, following her daughter to the parlor.
McKenzie sighed. Please, Mother, don’t ask me to read you the letter, she thought to herself. She clutched Zach’s letter and sat down on the sofa next to her mother.
“Now, do tell,” her mother demanded.
“The story is so very sad, Mother. You may need your handkerchief,” said McKenzie, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Go on,” said her mother.
“You see, there is a young woman in the Montana Territory whom I learned of through some of my charity work. Her name is…Isadora Jones.”
“Isadora? What a dreadful name,” said Florence. “You’re right, I will need a handkerchief.”
“Anyway, Mother, as I was saying, I learned of Isadora through my charity work. She is a young woman with eight children—”
“Eight children? Goodness gracious! How old is she?”
“My age.”
“And she has eight children? You’re right—she is a poor woman!”
“Mother, times have been difficult for Isadora,” sniffled McKenzie. “So difficult, indeed. You see, two of her children are twins.”
“Twins?” her mother exclaimed. “That would make life difficult. I was always thankful I didn’t have twins.”
McKenzie nodded, reaching into the depths of her imagination to add to the story, being sure to make it tragic yet credible. “The twins are very ill. They have had difficulties since birth. As a matter of fact, one of them cannot even walk.”
“How old are they?”
“I believe Isadora told me in her letters that they are four years old. Not only that, but Isadora’s husband was injured when he fell off a horse last year. He hasn’t been able to work.”
“He shouldn’t have been riding a horse,” her mother declared.
“Because he hasn’t been able to work, the family has no food and no clothing. Their only shelter is a meager cabin with but two rooms. It’s dreadful, Mother….” McKenzie pretended to cry then, burying her face in a handkerchief.
“I had no idea,” said her mother. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her own handkerchief. “What can we do to help?”