The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (4 page)

A
s Suzanne closed
the door behind her, Meg let her forehead fall into her palm. The nerves she’d been trying to quiet for days now had all come to life at once, and she was going to be stuck here as he read the letter. What horrible luck.

She and Sam had fallen into silence and she’d gotten up to pace. She turned quickly to the door as Suzanne and Sadie bustled in, grateful that Suzanne had been as quick as she’d said she would. It helped that her twin sister, Sadie, worked right next door at the restaurant.

Meg helped the pregnant Sadie over to the chair she’d occupied, giving her a quick hug. “Hello, Sadie. You look beautiful.”

Sadie laughed, waving her hand in the air as she quickly dismissed the compliment. “Goodness, everyone says that but how could that be true when I feel ill most if the time?”

Sam chuckled. “You may feel that way, but there is something about you that glows,” he said, nodding slightly in Sadie’s direction.

“I agree,” Suzanne said, shaking her finger at Sadie when she started to again protest. “And that’s all we’re going to say about that. Besides, we have big news. We’ve gotten a letter for Sam.” She waved the envelope in the air as Meg cringed, remembering her quick decision to use the scented paper.

“She has very pretty handwriting,” Suzanne said as she studied the envelope then handed it to Sam. He lifted it to his nose and breathed in the lavender scent she’d rubbed on the envelope. Apparently, it hadn’t worn off, as he said, “It smells good. Like lavender.” He frowned as he looked at the envelope.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” Sadie asked.

Sam jerked his head up. “No, no, nothing wrong with that. It’s just my mother’s favorite scent.”

“Oh, that’s good luck, then,” Suzanne said. “Maybe that means your mother will like this one.”

“Or that this one said yes,” Sam said, smiling ruefully as he began to open the envelope.

Meg felt her stomach flip as he read the letter silently, his eyebrows rising bit by bit as he did.

“Well?” Suzanne and Sadie said in unison.

“It’s a yes,” Sam said slowly. “Her name is Helen, and she’s from here in Tombstone. Isn’t that odd?” He lowered the letter for a moment, then shook his head and handed the paper to Suzanne.

“It says that she’s here in Tombstone, pretty enough, and willing to become your bride. She understands that you need a bride for the reason stated, she has experience in ranching and animal husbandry and—wait, didn’t you say something in the ad about musical interest or ability? It says here she sings.”

Meg tried to shrink and disappear into the wall. Surely they would know it was her. How could they not? She stood right in front of them as they described her perfectly. Her nerves buzzing, she stayed quiet, dreading the next part of the conversation that she’d hoped not to be involved in.

All eyes turned to the door as the bell rang, the tall figure of her brother, Hank, entering. He took off his hat as he looked around at the faces in the room and his brow furrowed.

“What? What is it? You all look like the horse died,” he said, striding into the room after he hung his hat on the rack.

“I got a taker for my bride position.”

“And she sounds perfect,” Suzanne said, smiling at Sam. “Doesn’t she, Sam?”

“She certainly has all the qualities that I specified. Besides being interested.”

“Yes, and she didn’t mind that you are a bartender like the others did. That’s important,” Suzanne said.

“Sam, I hate to put this so plainly, but this is the only woman who has applied with a positive response. And she does have all of the qualifications you asked for. It’s really not something that you can debate about if you truly want to have a bride by the time your mother arrives,” Sadie said as she placed her hand on his arm.

“You’re right, Sadie. I know you are. I guess it’s just…”

Hank clapped his friend on the back. “Sudden? Yes, it is. I know exactly how you feel. But look how lucky I got with Clara. And Sadie with Tripp. I’m sure that you’ll be just as fortunate,” he said to Sam with a reassuring smile.

No matter if he’d really meant it or not, Sam seemed to relax a bit. He took the letter back from Suzanne and peered at the return address, which Meg had thought out carefully.

“Hm. It’s a number at the post office. She’s so close. What if it’s someone I know?”

“That would sure be odd, but I don’t imagine it will be. Tombstone’s a big place and we don’t know everybody,” Hank said.

Sadie rubbed her chin as she frowned. “That would be very odd, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t someone who were interested just come by?”

“I don’t think so,” Meg said softly. “What if he didn’t want her? It would be much better to get that information by post rather than in person, don’t you think?”

Silence fell as they all turned to Meg for a moment. Finally, Sam spoke. “I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought about the whole thing from
her
perspective. And I’m not even sure what type of woman needs to find a husband in this manner.”

“Don’t think about that part. Does she sound like someone you’d want to try this with?” Suzanne held out her hand for the letter.

Hank cleared his throat. “As Sadie said, you don’t have much of a choice, my friend, if you want to do this. She’s the only one who wanted
you
.”

Sam chuckled as he grinned at his friend. “You’re right about that. All right, let’s move forward,” he said as he gave a quick clap.

“Do what?” James, Suzanne’s husband and owner of the mercantile, said as he opened the door.

Suzanne exchanged warm smiles with her husband, and Meg wondered how they seemed to be so much in love, even after very busy twins, running a business and over six years together.

“Sam got a positive response,” she said as she walked over to take his coat, hanging it on the rack along with his hat.

James smiled as his eyebrows rose. “Is that so? A good one?”

“The only one there is,” Meg’s brother said as he laughed and shook his head at Sam. “He’s a bartender. There’s only one taker.”

Meg felt heat creep to her ears and was grateful that she still wore her , hoping they might not notice. She’d never thought that she’d be the only taker for Sam, who she thought would be the greatest husband for anyone, but as she sat while they searched for quill and paper to respond to her, her nerves settled.

Did it matter that she was the only taker? Not really. It just meant that he would be that much more interested in making a success of their marriage as she was his only option. Besides, it wasn’t personal that he wasn’t quite convinced. He didn’t know it was Meg.

She drew in a deep breath at the thought that he would soon, in fact, know that it was her. She tried not to let that thought take residence as it pushed her toward panic.

“Meg? Meg, are you there?” Her brother’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she shook her head quickly.

“Yes, yes. What is it?”

“You’ve been far away. Are you still feeling ill?” Suzanne leaned over and peered into Meg’s eyes. “You don’t look quite as pale as before.”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” She stood and smoothed her apron over her dress. She looked down at the dirt on her shoes and cringed once more, and her hands reached up to finger her braids. She’d had no idea this event would be taking place, or she’d have made a stronger effort to look…different. Actually, though, she could do that later. When they were introduced as future husband and wife.

“There you go again,” Hank said. “You sure daydream a lot lately. Not like you.”

“No, no it isn’t,” she said hastily. “Suzanne, if we could settle up, I’d best be going.”

“Oh, of course. Do you want cash today or have it added as a credit to your account?”

“Credit is fine. We’ll be making purchases for school supplies soon, I’m sure,” Meg said as she re-tied her bonnet under her chin.

“All right, then. I’ll just add the items and their payment. If you’re in a hurry, I can give Hank the bill of sale in a bit.”

“That would be fine. I do need to get back.” Meg suddenly wanted to be as far away from the mercantile as she could possibly be…and soon.

She had her hand on the doorknob as it swung toward her, knocking her a step back toward the wall.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Meg,” Sadie said. “I didn’t see you.” She stepped into the store, followed by Sam who had a new, white envelope in his hand.

Meg hadn’t even remembered them leaving the shop. Her daydream must have been longer than she’d thought.

“Oh, Meg, are you heading home?” Sam said.

Meg’s breath hitched. “Yes, I am. I need to get back.”

Sam held out the envelope to her. “Would you mind delivering this to the post office on your way? I don’t think anyone else is going out for a while and it’s on the other side of town, but on your way home.”

Meg stared down at the letter, reaching slowly and gingerly toward it.

Sam laughed, pushing it closer to her. “Go on, it won’t bite.”

She looked up into his smiling eyes, her hands steadying as she heard his laugh, reminding her that it was her favorite sound in the world, and remembering that with this letter, she would soon be on her way to becoming Mrs. Sam Allen.

She reached out for the envelope and grasped it firmly, placing it in the pocket of her apron. “I’d be happy to deliver it for you.”

“See? I told you it wouldn’t bite.”

Meg smiled and nodded at him as she opened the door, turning back for a small wave to her friends. “Goodbye, all,” she said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her and walked a few steps closer to the buggy.

Her back still to the door, she retrieved the letter from her pocket and held it to her chest, her smile taking over as she realized it was just a matter of time—a short time, at that— that she would be Mrs. Samuel Allen.

As she hopped in the buggy after securing the letter back in her pocket, she headed toward the post office to deliver it as promised. When she was sure that she was no longer in sight of the mercantile, she laughed and guided the horses toward home. She didn’t need to go to the post office. The letter, after all, was for her.

B
y the time
Meg arrived home after her long diversion at the mercantile, dinner was ready and on the table. All she’d had time for was to wash up and join her family.

It was all she could do to pay attention to what anyone was saying as she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to read the note from Sam that would determine her fate. Every chance she got, she fiddled with it in her pocket, willing dinner to pass more quickly so that she could run to her room and read it in private.

“Sam got a positive response to his request for a mail order bride today,” Hank said, primarily to his wife, Clara, but the effect was that all nine pair of eyes turned toward him with this news.

Beau Archer was the first to speak after he’d set his fork down and sat back in his chair. “I’ll never get over this, you young people finding brides this way. If I hadn’t seen it work out in my very home with the wonderful addition of Clara, I would think it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“You would think that, Pa, but even with the influx of new folks here in Tombstone due to the mine taking off, most of them have moved from somewhere else, and are either single or don’t know anybody. Except for the ladies at Big Nose Kate’s and the Bird Cage, they’re mostly men. And those ladies aren’t marrying material.”

“Why not,” Pepper, the youngest Archer girl said, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong with those ladies? They’re women, aren’t they?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the rest of the table. Beau Archer looked at his youngest daughter, who was just sixteen, and then looked to Clara with pleading eyes. Meg noticed that Clara’s eyes widened and she looked at Hank. Hank cleared his throat and lifted his napkin to his mouth, looking desperately at Meg.

Meg sighed. Was she the only one around who could handle business? She did, however, glance around once for Maria before she turned to Pepper and said, “There are women who come to places like this, Big Nose Kate’s and The Bird Cage, and they are able to make a very good living on their own. Not everybody wants to get married, you know.”

“Maybe they just haven’t met the right person yet,” Pepper said, her attention returning to her plate. The older sisters and the men let out a collective sigh of relief as the rest of the girls returned to eating.

As her family finished dinner, Meg let her mind wander once again to Sam, his strong hands and laughing eyes, and eventually wandered to other thoughts, likely brought up by Pepper’s question. She hadn’t thought her plan out too far down the line, and after she and Sam were married, she wasn’t exactly sure how that would turn out. Would he love her? Of course he would.

All she knew at the moment was that she intended to be his bride, and if she wasn’t excused from the table soon to read his letter, she’d burst.

“Papa, may I be excused?” she said as forks were beginning to be laid down and the conversation turned to the younger sisters’ new teacher at the school.

Her father looked up at her, his surprise evident as he said, “What? No dessert?”

“Meg, you always have dessert,” Sage, one of the twins, said her fork suspended in mid-air.

“I have some things on my mind tonight, Sage. You can have mine, if it’s all right, Papa.”

Maria had entered the dining room from the kitchen and her big, brown eyes bored into Meg until Meg had to look away. The last thing she needed now was Maria asking more questions.

Her father took the unusual request briefly into consideration and said, “Why not? The girls can sing without you tonight.”

Meg folded her napkin and laid it on her plate, scooting her chair back. “Thank you, all. Excuse me,” she said, her hand in her pocket and wrapped around Sam’s letter.

As she rushed down the hall and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, she took it out of her pocket and laid it down on the bed. She sat beside it, staring at it briefly before she tore it open. Her stomach flipped as she started to read.

D
ear Miss Bailey
,

T
hank
you for responding affirmatively to my request for a bride. It is quite a coincidence that you reside here, so close.

From what you have told me, it would be a fine union, as your skills and interests are a perfect match for what I wanted.

I do apologize that we have so little time to get to know one another, but I assure you that you will have a separate room at my home and no marital relations are expected.

In the interest of time, I suggest that we meet on Thursday at noon, at the Occidental restaurant. It will give you an opportunity to meet me in public before we actually get married, which I also propose is that same day at 1:00 p.m. I do hope that you understand the urgency of the situation, and that a marriage is required as quickly as possible, as I outlined in my advertisement.

Please confirm your acceptance of these conditions as soon as possible so that I might begin making arrangements for our wedding.

Y
ours truly
,

Samuel Allen

M
eg slowly set
down the letter on the bed. She thought for a moment that it was a particularly unromantic letter, but then remembered that he thought he was writing to a perfect stranger. She just knew that once she presented herself, he’d be different, more at ease. All they needed was a little time.

S
he quickly found
paper and pen, and crafted her response.

D
ear Mr. Allen
,

I
am pleased
to see that you have accepted my request to be your bride. I do realize that time is of the essence in your situation, and I am agreeable to the date and time, both for meeting you and for marriage. Thank you for your consideration regarding separate sleeping quarters.

I do believe that you will be pleased with this arrangement, as I expect to be as well. This is something that I’ve longed for, and am happy to be of assistance.

I will meet you in two days’ time on Thursday at noon at the Occidental restaurant. So that you know who I am, I will be wearing…

M
eg set
the pen down and thought for a moment. What
would
she be wearing? This was happening quite quickly, and that was good because if she gave herself time to stop and think about things—whether she should pack all of her clothes, what her father would say, what her sisters would say—she might back out altogether, and that would be her last chance to be with the man she cared about, and most likely loved already.

She got up and opened her wardrobe, flipping through her dresses. Her heart tugged at the thought that she was actually picking out her wedding dress, and that her mother wouldn’t be there to see it.

Her hand brushed over a purple satin skirt with matching jacket, its deep sheen catching her eye. It was the last dress she and her mother had picked out together before her mother died, and she knew it was her mother’s favorite. She took it out of the wardrobe and stood in front of the mirror of her vanity, turning right and left with the dress held in front of her.

It was a bit unconventional, but she didn’t own a white dress and purple suited her personality, in her opinion. And besides, the fact that it had been her last dress chosen with her mother made it special—almost as if her mother would be there in spirit, if not in person.

Decision made, she carefully returned the dress to her wardrobe, picked up the pen and continued her letter.

I
will be wearing
purple satin, and I very much look forward to meeting you.

S
incerely
,

Helen Bailey

S
he’d wanted
to sign it Mrs. Samuel Allen, but she laughed, knowing she’d have plenty of time for that later. She studied the letter while she blew on the ink to help it dry. Her hand had been steady, and her words were clear. She reached deep down for any thoughts that she was making a mistake, and, finding none, folded the letter and addressed the envelope to Samuel Allen, her future husband.