Mail-Order Moriah: A Brides Of Beckham Book (Pearson Grove 1) Page 2

  The man returned quickly. “Please come this way. Mrs. Long is waiting for you.”

  She followed him into an office. An attractive woman sat behind a desk and offered a warm smile. She had blond hair and green eyes that sparkled with interest and intelligence.

  “Welcome. I’m Harriett Long. Call me Harriett. Please sit down and tell me what’s brought you here today.”

  “I’m Moriah Singleton.” Moriah chose a chair and explained about arriving in America, the difficulties she’d faced, and about losing her job. “You understand why I need to find someone immediately?”

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through so much. I applaud your decision to keep your self-respect. What a horrid man.”

  The matchmaker gave a dismissive wave, as if pushing Mr. Hawkins from her presence. “Now tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m twenty-two, in good health, and have all my teeth. I’m not afraid of hard work nor am I a spendthrift. My family tells me I’m a good cook and I’m a good a hand at cleaning.”

  Hariett chuckled. “That’s nice to know, Moriah. What are you looking for in a husband?”

  Moriah used a few moments to compose her thoughts. Exactly what kind of husband did she want?”

  “First of all, I’d want him to be kind and have a sense of humor and be smart. Money isn’t so important to me but I’d like someone who has enough put by that I can send for my sister Felicity to come here.”

  “I see.” Harriett sorted through papers on her desk until she picked up one. “Ah, here’s the one I wanted.” She handed it to Moriah.

  Dear Prospective Wife,

  I am 27 years old and in good health. I have sandy brown hair and blue eyes and am a couple of inches over six feet tall. I own the mercantile in a small town called Pearson Grove that is in the north central part of Texas. I live over the store in rooms that include a parlor, kitchen, three bedrooms, and a bathing room.

  Our town is a pleasant place of almost a thousand people. Spring wildflowers are lovely and there’s a nice creek flowing beside the town.

  Two years ago I purchased the store. I work long hours to make my business a success. One day I expect to be prosperous but right now I must watch expenses. Although I want my wife to have anything she needs, she should be good at saving money and not be a spendthrift.

  Having a wife between the ages of 20 and 26 would be perfect. I ask that she show a willingness to help in the store and will be my true helpmate. She should be neat, pleasant, and willing to be polite to customers even if they are rude—which they sometimes are. I would also ask that she not be prone to gossip.

  I promise to be kind, considerate, and faithful and expect the same in return. Should we have children as I hope, I will be a loving father to each child.

  Yours truly,

  Scott Ferguson

  The matchmaker leaned a bit forward. “What do you think?”

  Moriah reread the letter. His handwriting was firm and easy to read but she wondered if he could be the one for her.

  “I’m used to saving and scrimping and I’m not afraid of hard work. Is this the man you find most suitable? Isn’t Texas far away? I think I’d be a long time sending for my sister in England.”

  “From the messages I have about him, I think not. He also included a letter from his minister and one from the local sheriff. The main reason I thought of him is this man has included the fare for a ticket and a bit extra to pay for meals on the train trip.”

  Moriah sensed a terrible weight lift from her shoulders. “So I could leave right away if I accept this man?”

  “That’s correct.” Harriett leaned back in her chair. “I like for my couples to exchange at least one letter. Actually, I prefer a longer time for two letters so they become somewhat acquainted.”

  The matchmaker straightened in her seat. “However, in his letter to me, he asked me to judge for him and listed the things he needed. I believe you fill all those. You see, he needs help in his store as soon as possible and hoped I’d find someone right away.”

  Moriah tilted her head and regarded the gentle matchmaker. “And I wonder what the requirements are. Can you say?”

  Her smile was just as caring but Harriett slowly shook her head. “They were addressed to me in confidence and I take my position seriously. My couples are important to me. I want each one to result in a long and successful marriage.”

  “Wouldn’t I want the same thing? Still, it’s not always the case with marriage, is it? I’ve known many women who rued the day they wed.”

  Harriett’s lovely face sobered. “If you ever feel in danger, you must leave immediately and write to me. I can’t stress this enough. I won’t have my brides in jeopardy and will help you return.”

  Moriah nodded slowly. “While I’d take my marriage vows seriously, that doesn’t mean I would tolerate mistreatment.”

  “You’ve shown that already, my dear.”

  Chapter Four

  Moriah had to admit train travel wasn’t as wearisome as her trip from England to Boston had been. The rocking of the train wasn’t annoying even though stops to add or unhitch cars were jarring. A storm didn’t send the train heaving up and down like a child’s bouncing ball the way it had the ship on which she’d traveled to America.

  Still, exhaustion left her wilted as a discarded flower. As she had been with her sea voyage to America, she’d be glad to get onto solid ground. She couldn’t help wondering what Pearson Grove, Texas would be like.

  Looking out the window on her trip had been a revelation. Never had she conceived of such a diverse countryside. America was even larger than she had imagined. For much of the trip the scenery had been cloaked in snow.

  Would there be wild Indians and cowboys shooting up the town on their paydays? She had heard tales of the Wild West and had trouble believing she had agreed to move there. Would she need to carry a gun?

  As the train slowed, she peered at the buildings in view. Patches of snow lingered in shaded places but most of the town was clear. She grabbed her valise from the seat beside her and moved toward the exit.

  Now that she was here, all her misgivings resurfaced. Had she made a terrible mistake to accept a man she’d never met? Too late for second guessing now.

  Mrs. Long had insisted she not marry Mr. Ferguson if she had doubts for her safety. That wasn’t her primary fear, not exactly. She was more concerned with how they would get along. Forever was too long to be ill-suited.

  Foremost in her mind was when she could send for Felicity. Moriah couldn’t erase the expression on her sister’s face as she’d left England. Her younger sister’s longing to come to America was even greater than Moriah’s. Their parents had insisted the eldest come first.

  The jerking of the train as it stopped snapped Moriah to the present. The conductor set down the step and she exited the train. Several others joined her on the platform.

  She searched for a man who fit the sparse description she had of her groom. No one she saw fit her mental sketch. A man wearing a badge sauntered toward her. Her knees threatened to buckle. What could be wrong?

  He tipped his wide-brimmed hat. “Miss Singleton? I’m Sheriff Virgil Witt, Scott’s friend. He can’t close the store for another hour and asked me to meet the train.”

  She released the breath she’d held. “Then nothing’s wrong?”

  He took her valise from her. “Nothing at all. You have trunks for me to claim?”

  “Yes, one.” She handed over the claim check. Should she be embarrassed she had only one small trunk? Surely a man with a mercantile could supply whatever else she needed, couldn’t he?

  She kept step while the sheriff claimed her trunk and carried it on his shoulder as if it were no weight at all. He strode off and she hurried to keep step.

  “Are we in a race?” she called.

  He stopped and grinned. “Sorry, I forgot to allow for a lady’s pace. We’re going to the hotel where there’s a room reserved for you.”

  She
scanned from left to right. “Are there wild Indians lurking? Should I have brought a gun?”

  His laugh was hearty. “The only Indians hereabouts are good citizens. I keep order in the town so you can feel safe.”

  “That’s a relief. I’ve heard so many stories. A woman on the train shared her copy of what she called ‘a dime novel’. The story was frightening.”

  “Those stories are farfetched for the most part.” They turned in at the hotel. “Scott will call for you after the store closes and take you to dinner. I hope that’s all right.”

  “Truthfully, it eases my mind. I’ll have time to freshen a bit before I meet him. I feel as if I’m covered in soot and dust.”

  The Grand Hotel was far smaller than its name would indicate. However, the lobby appeared well furnished. Tempting aromas teased her nose and she hoped the sheriff didn’t hear her stomach rumble.

  The reception clerk greeted them. “Nice to see you, sheriff. This must be Ferguson’s bride.”

  The lawman set down the trunk and nodded toward her. “Miss Moriah Singleton, this is Ben Paschal, who owns the hotel. Ben, the groom will be by to take Miss Singleton to dinner as soon as the store closes.”

  Ben turned the sign-in register for her and furnished a pen and ink pot. “Sign in, ma’am, and I’ll get your key.”

  While Moriah wrote her name, the clerk grabbed a key and came around to the front of the desk.

  “I’ll show you to your room, Miss Singleton. Unless you need it for tonight, I’ll store your trunk down here.”

  “That will be fine. Goodbye, sheriff. Thank you for meeting the train and escorting me here.”

  Sheriff Witt tipped his hat. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  Ben picked up her valise and climbed the stairs. “We have a good dining room when you’re hungry. Scott’s store is only a block away but he can’t leave without closing up and that’d be bound to make someone angry.”

  “I understand.” She did, for wasn’t that one of the reasons he needed a wife?

  The room was larger than the one she’d lived in at the boarding house in Sterling Harbor and also the one she’d shared with Felicity at home. She walked to the windows and looked at the town. Muddy streets didn’t impress her but matched what she’d seen from the train for most small towns as they’d traveled west.

  From the window she spotted a barber shop, a millinery shop, a dressmaker, a bank, and a druggist whose window announced he offered fountain soft drinks and ice cream. Except for the unpaved streets, Pearson Grove sounded quite civilized. She wondered when she’d have time to look around the town.

  For now, she must hurry before her groom-to-be arrived. She was pleased to have a bathing room on her floor. Carrying her valise, she was intent on appearing well-groomed and sweet-smelling when Scott Ferguson called for her.

  ***

  Scott couldn’t hide his eagerness when Virgil entered the store. “What’s she like?”

  “I’m tempted to fib and scare you, but I can’t bring myself to lie. As a matter of fact, she’s gorgeous and has a pleasant speaking voice. I’d say you’ve done well for yourself.” Virgil rubbed his chin, a sure sign he was concerned.

  “Why do I sense hesitation? What’s wrong?”

  Virgil shook his head. “Naw, nothing’s wrong with her. Only thing is her clothes are kind of… well, threadbare. Not at all what you’re used to with Miss Novak.”

  “I reckon if she was wealthy she wouldn’t have become a mail-order bride. I have fabric and clothes if she needs them.”

  “That’s true. Sorry I mentioned it.”

  “Preacher Patrick’s set to marry us tomorrow after church. I’m counting on you to be there.”

  “Wouldn’t miss the big day. That is, barring something as major as a bank robbery.”

  “Don’t even joke about such a thing, Virgil. No one can afford to lose their money.”

  “You closing at six?”

  “Sure am. Figured I’d dash upstairs and change shirts then hurry to the hotel. Did you tell her a time?”

  “Naw, all I told her was after closing. Not like she’s going to wander away, is it?”

  “Guess not, but she might want to look over the other businesses.”

  “She told me she wanted to refresh herself before she met you. You know how tiring and dirty train travel can be. She didn’t look like she needed cleaning up any, though.”

  “Describe her.”

  “Red hair the color of a new penny, green eyes, and ivory skin, She’s maybe five or six inches shorter than you and me so I reckon she’d be seven or eight inches over five feet. Tall for a woman but nicely proportioned.”

  Scott glanced at the clock again. Why was time moving so slowly? He pulled out his pocket watch, but its time matched the clock.

  Virgil chuckled. “You’re sure eager to fit your neck into parson’s noose. After meeting your intended, I can’t say I blame you. Best be on my rounds. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Mrs. Tucker came in at fifteen minutes until six. “I need a few things, Mr. Ferguson.” She handed him a list and wandered to the buttons and trims.

  “I’ll have this ready in right away.” He sped through gathering what she’d listed and wrapping them.

  “Will that be all, Mrs. Tucker?”

  She held a set of buttons in each hand. “I can’t decide which of these to use for the dress I’m making. You may remember I bought some of that gray poplin.”

  He didn’t but he unfolded a bit of the fabric she’d described. “Perhaps if you held the buttons on the material you’d be able to choose.”

  She dithered back and forth. In the past, she had taken over half an hour to make a decision on the most trivial purchase.

  Unwilling to delay meeting his bride, he claimed the two types of buttons. “I’ll tell you what I’m willing to do since you’re such a good customer. Take both sets of these and return the ones you don’t want. I won’t charge you until you’ve had a chance to see them at home against the dress.”

  Her face split in a grin. “Why, thank you, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  He bundled the buttons into her other package and handed it to her. “Thank you, come again.”

  As soon as she left, he locked the door and turned the sign to Closed. Then he emptied the cash register’s receipts into the safe before he dashed upstairs. Twenty minutes later he entered the hotel lobby.

  He spotted Miss Singleton at once. She sat primly on a chair with her coat folded neatly beside her. She looked up when he entered. Making a beeline for her, he removed his hat.

  She rose and smiled and his heart skipped a beat. Virgil hadn’t exaggerated when he said she was beautiful. Right now, Scott counted himself lucky indeed.

  “Miss Singleton, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. A late shopper had trouble making up her mind—on buttons, of all things.”

  “I’ve only just come to the lobby. I certainly understand that you can’t afford to turn away customers. I look forward to seeing your store.”

  Up close, he noticed her dress was badly worn. He resolved not to care. Perhaps since she hadn’t any money, she’d be content with what he could provide instead of craving fancier things. “May I call you Moriah?”

  “Please do and I’ll call you Scott if I may.”

  He offered his arm. “Excellent, shall we go in to dinner? They serve nice meals here and I imagine you’re as hungry as I am.”

  “I admit the aromas have whetted my appetite.” She picked up her threadbare coat and purse and placed her hand on his arm.

  Chapter Five

  Moriah was relieved so far. Her groom was well-mannered and attractive. She prayed he remained considerate.

  They were seated at one side of the dining room. Most other diners stared either openly or surreptitiously. She laid her coat and scarf over the back of a chair.

  The room was decorated in dark red and walnut. The wood wainscoting went around the room except where doors interrupted. A
bove that, boldly patterned red wallpaper was topped with a border at the ceiling. Wide windows at the street side offered a view of the town.

  She imagined the tables near those would be chilly tonight. White linen cloths covered the tables and red napkins accented the wall color. The effect was nicer than she’d anticipated for this hotel.

  Scott held her chair to seat her then sat at her right. “Newcomers are always a curiosity, so please don’t be offended if people stare. Most of the townspeople are kind-hearted and generous.”

  Their being scrutinized had alarmed her. “I suppose their reaction is only to be expected. I hope I’m accepted by everyone.”

  “I’m sure you will be. The waitress is so busy tonight, forgive me if I wait until the next time we’re here to introduce you.”

  Moriah watched the woman almost run to keep up with orders and delivering food to diners.

  “Is the dining room always this busy?”

  “On Saturday nights, it is.” He smiled at her. “Since we didn’t get to exchange letters, perhaps you’ll tell me a little about yourself.”

  “I’m twenty-two and from a small village near Tonbridge in Kent, England. I had been living in Sterling Harbor, Massachusetts for about two months. The only job available was sewing in the Sterling Shirts factory. The hours were long and the pay poor, but I was lucky to find the work.”

  “Did you have other family nearby?”

  Should she tell him now about Felicity? “No one, but my sister hopes to come to America soon. What about you? How did you come to own a mercantile at so young an age?”

  He relaxed against the chair’s back and grasped the small table’s corners. “My grandparents left me an inheritance and I used it to buy the mercantile. My parents live near Waco, which is a ways south of here. They believed I was crazy to buy a store instead of land. They live on a farm not far from the Colorado River. There was land near them for sale and they wanted me to buy that.”

  “How is the business working out? Do you feel you’ve made the right choice?”