Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Augusta, Margaret, and Josie left the office bundled up against the cold. They reminded Ivy of ducks waddling along in single file, their steps brisk despite the snow and ice clinging to the edges of the sidewalk.
Ivy watched from the front window as they climbed into a rented carriage. All three were talking animatedly before the door was shut. Josie rapped the ceiling, and the carriage pulled away.
Caleb entered the office not a moment later. “Where are they going?”
“To see their lawyer,” Ivy said. “Augusta told me they had some business to discuss with him.” She turned to him. “I guess we should get to work.”
He nodded, took off his coat, and hung it up. Once his things were in order, he scanned the office. “Where’s George?”
“Young George is walking him. They left just before the others did.”
He looked around again. “Where’s King Alfred?”
Ivy went to the table on the other side of the room and sat. “I left him home today. My grandmother is there.”
“Ah, I see.” He went to Augusta’s desk and examined the paperwork there. “I’ll open the mail.”
Ivy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. This was the first time they’d been left alone in the office. She hoped the sisters wouldn’t come back and question them on every little thing that happened while they were gone.
She glanced in Caleb’s direction. He’d rolled his sleeves up like he was ready to do battle with the mail.
He read a letter with his usual quiet concentration, set it aside, and reached for another.
He looked up, as if sensing her gaze, his expression composed.
“Well, it appears we’ve been entrusted with the kingdom. ”
Ivy thought he might say something about the letter in his hand. Instead, he was worried about the same thing she was. “Heaven help the kingdom, then.” Their eyes met, and something warm passed between them despite the rules that hovered like a cloud.
She brushed the thought aside, left the table, and moved toward the filing cabinet. “We should review the pending matches before the afternoon appointments arrive. Maybe we can help prepare Elizabeth a little better. I think we should meet Thomas, don’t you?”
“That’s a good idea. I’m sure he’s not the first young child or sibling a bride has taken along with her to meet a groom.
” Caleb left Augusta’s desk and approached, stopping at Josie’s desk about six feet away.
He leaned against it. He was always so respectful and careful not to crowd her space.
The problem was, it made her more aware of him, not less.
They returned to work and made a list of things Elizabeth could do to help prepare Thomas for their upcoming journey. “He could write his own letter to Mr. Newton,” Caleb suggested.
“Good idea.” Ivy jotted it down. “Elizabeth has been so nervous about this. She’s worried what Mr. Newton will think of her letter.”
Caleb gave her a sympathetic smile, as if she were Elizabeth Jepsen. “That’s one reason I think Thomas should write his own letter. Then we’ll send them together. When George returns with the dog, we could have him deliver a message to Elizabeth explaining our plan.”
“But what if Augusta, Margaret, and Josie don’t agree with it?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Before Ivy could answer, the office door banged open.
A woman stood on the threshold. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and had what appeared to be blonde hair, though parts of it were darker.
It was hard to tell beneath the tattered scarf wrapped around her head and neck.
The rest of her was just as tattered. Her skirt was caked with dried mud nearly to the knee.
Her boots were scuffed beyond redemption.
She unwound the scarf, revealing messy dark-blonde hair pulled into a loose bun. The woman twitched her nose, held up a finger, and hurried back into the vestibule and then outside.
Ivy and Caleb exchanged a look before rushing to the front windows. They spotted her on the sidewalk and watched as she spat—actually spat—into the street before returning inside.
Ivy made a face and whispered, “Was that… tobacco?”
“I think so,” Caleb whispered back.
The woman looked around the office with sharp, assessing eyes. “Is this the place that fixes broken folk?”
Ivy blinked once. Then twice. Caleb went still beside her. “I… um…” Ivy stuttered, then stopped and straightened. “This is The Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company, and currently…”
“Yeah, yeah,” the woman interrupted, waving a hand. “I know what it’s called. I ain’t illiterate.” She reached into her pocket, produced a small pouch, and popped something into her mouth.
Egad. She was chewing tobacco.
Caleb cleared his throat. “How can we help you, Miss…?”
“Theadora Mae Winslow,” she said, without flourish. “But ya can call me Teddy. And before ya ask. No, I don’t got family sendin’ me, and no, I ain’t here to be pitied.”
Ivy’s heart went out to her. The woman was braced for judgment. “Would you like to sit?”
Teddy studied her for a long moment, then shrugged and dropped into the nearest chair. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Would you like something to drink?” Caleb offered.
“I could wet my whistle.”
Caleb glanced at Ivy, gave a tiny shrug, and headed for the kitchen.
Teddy’s eyes flicked between them as he went. “So,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Which one of ya is gonna tell me how unfixable I am?”
Ivy folded her hands and offered the warmest smile she could muster. “We don’t believe anyone is unfixable, Miss Winslow.”
She smiled knowingly. “Call me Teddy.”
Ivy hesitated. Was this woman a good candidate for a mail-order bride? Would the sisters turn someone like Teddy away? Her mouth curved into a tiny smile. The sisters weren’t here, which meant this was for her and Caleb to handle.
“Tell me what you’re looking for,” Ivy said.
Teddy shrugged. “A place where I won’t be alone forever. I get lonelier than a polecat sometimes. And I don’t much like it.”
Ivy sensed Caleb’s return before she heard him. She looked his way and, to her surprise, his gaze wasn’t on Teddy. It was on her.
His ears went pink, as though she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t. He quickly turned his attention to their client. “Here’s your water.”
Teddy took the glass and drained it before he could so much as turn around. They gaped as Teddy handed the glass back. “Could I have another?”
“Uh, sure.” Caleb’s eyes flicked to Ivy.
She shrugged and turned to Teddy. “We can help you find a husband. But…” Ivy looked her over. “It will take time.”
“Good,” Teddy said. “I ain’t in no hurry.”
Ivy studied her for a moment and caught the intelligence in the woman’s eyes. There was something else beneath it. Not desperation, like she’d seen in some prospective brides. This was more like keen observation.
She reached into the desk for an intake form. “We’ll need to begin with practical matters. You’ll want to give us your age, height, along with a few other attributes.” Her eyes swept over Teddy. “And we might want to discuss a few other things.”
Teddy sniffed, then wiped her nose with her coat sleeve. “That so?”
“Yes,” Ivy replied evenly.
“What sorts of other things?”
“Well, um… hygiene, dress, you know, how you keep yourself.” She bit her lower lip and glanced at the intake form. “Not because you’re lacking in any way, but… well, society can be… particular.”
“That’s one word for it,” Teddy cackled.
Caleb returned with another glass of water. “You’ll be treated with respect here,” he said. “But you’ll need to meet us halfway.”
Ivy tried not to cringe. She’d forgotten how plainly he spoke.
Teddy’s gaze flicked to him. “Are ya sayin’ I ain’t respectable at the moment?”
“No,” Caleb said. “But men are men, and they expect us to send them a…” His eyes swept over her. “Woman.”
To Ivy’s surprise, and Caleb’s, she suspected, Teddy gave him an oddly approving smile.
“Okay then.” Teddy pushed herself to her feet. “I know I ain’t much to look at right now. So show me what halfway looks like.”
Ivy and Caleb exchanged the same knowing look. Ivy hoped and prayed that Augusta, Margaret, and Josie didn’t return too soon. This might take a while.
They began with the washroom. It was awkward at first. Ivy laid out soap and towels while Teddy eyed them. Caleb excused himself and retreated to the front office without being asked.
“What?” Teddy said as he left. “He ain’t gonna help?”
“We don’t need his help,” Ivy said. “Now, there’s hot water. Why don’t you wash your face and hands and… well…” She took in Teddy’s clothes. “We’ll start with that.” Too bad they didn’t have access to the sisters’ apartment upstairs. If Ivy had her way, she’d draw a bath for the woman.
“Huh.” Teddy scrubbed her hands together slowly. “Most folks don’t bother to help someone like me.”
“Well, we do.” Ivy was surprised by how long simple handwashing took. But then, most folks didn’t have dirt layered upon dirt. The poor woman’s face took just as long, and Teddy grew increasingly frustrated as her hair slipped free of its pins and fell into her eyes.
“Doggone it. It’s times like these that make me wanna cut it all off!” Teddy exclaimed.
“I’m sorry,” Ivy murmured. “But it would be nice if we could wash it too.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Teddy’s voice softened. “With all this dirt on me, even the unscrupulous folks tend to stay away.”
That landed harder than Ivy expected. “Excuse me?”
“Forget I said it.” Teddy took the towel Ivy offered and scrubbed her face. “There. Good as new.” She shivered. “Kinda feels colder without the dirt.”
Ivy could only stare. She hadn’t noticed how blue Teddy’s eyes were, or the dark smudges beneath them. What had this poor woman been through?
Caleb stood when they reentered the office, his expression neutral. Still, his eyes lingered just a fraction longer than propriety allowed before he looked away… and not at Teddy. When he finally did look at her, he smiled. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” Teddy rolled her shoulders. “Feels strange to be clean, though. Even if it’s just my hands and face.” She shoved loose hair back with a curse.
Ivy jumped at the word. “Oh, my..”
“Sorry. Bad habit. But blast this hair! Ya got any scissors?”
“No, absolutely not,” Ivy said. “It just needs a good washing. And you need some decent accessories.”
“Ain’t got no accessories,” Teddy muttered, still wrestling her hair into another bun.
Ivy bit her lower lip. “Here, let me help.” She stepped behind her and got to work.
“Much obliged.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Ivy tried to finger-comb Teddy’s hair but didn’t get far. There were too many tangles. “Caleb, let’s get her intake form filled out.”
“Right.” He reached for it and set it in front of him. “We already have your name. Age?”
“Twenty-three,” Teddy said. “Ow!”
“Sorry.” Ivy twisted the long, tangled mass of hair into a bun and pinned it in place. It wouldn’t last, but it would do for now.
“Skills?” Caleb asked.
“What d’ya mean, skills? Like huntin’ and shootin’ and such?”
Caleb stared at her for a moment. “Can you?”
“Of course I can!” Teddy shot back, as if he were daft.
He smiled. “I see.” He scribbled it down.
“Can you sew?” Ivy asked, coming around to stand beside the desk.
“I can patch my clothes, if that’s what ya mean.” She sniffed again and wiped her nose with her other sleeve. “What else ya wanna know?”
“What about cooking?” Caleb asked.
“I cook what I catch.” Teddy leaned back and crossed her arms. “And I can tell ya right now, I don’t wanna marry some milksop who can’t handle a gun.”
Caleb smiled. “No, I didn’t think you would.”
Ivy smiled as he asked the next few questions. Once the intake form was filled out, she’d need to explain how standing straighter changed how one was perceived. Along with a great many other things she hoped and prayed wouldn’t make Teddy walk out the door.