Chapter Two
Nora didn’t leave her room the next morning. She didn’t even open the curtains. The light that slipped in around the edges of the window shade was enough to tell her the sun was up, but she didn’t really care to see the rest of the day.
Her stomach felt hollow, but she wasn’t hungry.
She hadn’t eaten a bite since dinner the day before.
And even then, it was only bread and cheese and a few pickled carrots.
She certainly didn’t eat any of the roast beef or mashed potatoes with corn on the cob, green beans, and cornbread that Elsie had served for supper.
She tried to eat but lost her appetite when she’d been forced to sit across from August Vale and listen to him and her father talk about her future like she wasn’t even in the room. It didn’t seem to bother them in the least.
She’d pushed her food around her plate, trying not to listen to them.
August had spoken in that smooth, oily voice of his, talking about dates and arrangements and what he “envisioned” for their life together.
Her father had nodded along, pleased with himself, pleased with the deal he thought he was making.
Elsie hadn’t been pleased, either. The young housekeeper had slopped mashed potatoes onto her father’s plate so hard they’d splattered across the front of his shirt. He’d glared at her, but she’d only lifted her chin and gone back to the kitchen. Nora had wanted to hug her.
As soon as she could, Nora had excused herself and gone straight to her room, shutting the door before anyone could stop her.
She’d stayed there the rest of the night, pacing, praying, and thinking of every possible way to change her father’s mind.
But none of the ideas she came up with seemed strong enough to stand against August Vale.
Her father had made up his mind. And she feared there was no way to change it.
There wasn’t much sleep to be had in between her bouts of crying.
By morning, her eyes felt gritty, and her head ached.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floorboards, trying to gather the courage to face her father again.
It was no use, she knew. But she had to try, at least. She couldn’t let last night be the end of it.
She finally stood, splashed some cool water on her face, and smoothed her hair. Then, she opened her door.
A tray sat on the floor outside her room.
Elsie.
Nora blinked. Elsie must’ve left it. That girl was such a blessing.
There was a plate of eggs, a biscuit, and a small jar of jam.
The sight of it made her throat tighten.
She picked up the tray and carried it back inside, setting it on her dresser.
She didn’t want any of it, but the thought behind it warmed her heart.
Elsie had done it out of love, and Nora couldn’t bear to waste that.
She’d try to eat after she talked to her father. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped into the hallway.
“My mother didn’t raise a coward,” she murmured. “I’ll face him, even if it breaks me.”
Downstairs, her father’s office door was cracked open. She walked toward it, rehearsing what she’d say. The important thing was that she remained calm and used reasonable words that might reach him somewhere deep inside. She could do this—if she didn’t let her fear get the better of her.
But when she pushed the door open, she stopped cold.
August Vale was there.
He stood beside her father’s desk, his hands clasped behind his back, looking like he owned the place already. Her father sat behind the desk, rubbing his temples.
August turned when he heard her. That oily smile oozed across his face. “Miss Nora. You’re up at last.”
Her father didn’t say anything.
Nora swallowed hard. “Pa, I need to speak with you, please.”
August stepped forward before her father could answer.
“I was just talking to your father about your manners. They need some… fine-tuning. It was rude of you to run off last night before the dessert was even served. And now, basically demanding that I leave the room so you can talk about me behind my back. Any fiancée of mine ought to show better manners.”
Her stomach twisted. “I’m not your fiancée. Nothing’s been decided yet.”
He chuckled, as if she’d said something cute. “That’s not quite true. Your father and I just signed a contract. The ink’s not even dry yet.”
Nora could feel the blood draining from her face. She turned her gaze to her father, who was busy staring at the top of his desk. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“How could you do that? To me?” she demanded.
He didn’t say anything.
“That’s no way for you to talk to your father,” August told her. “You’ve been rude to him, and you were quite cold to me yesterday. I trust that you’ll do better today.”
He reached for her hand.
She gasped, jerking her hand back before he could touch her. “How dare you!”
His smile didn’t falter, but something in his eyes sharpened. “There’s no need to be coy or shy with me, Nora. We’re engaged now.”
“I’m not being coy or shy,” she snapped. “I just don’t want you touching me.”
Her father shifted in his chair. “Nora—”
“Don’t Nora me,” she said, louder. “I won’t pretend. I’ll never accept this. I’ll never take him as my husband.”
August’s expression didn’t change, but he stepped closer, closing the space between them. She backed up until her shoulders brushed the doorframe.
“You’re young,” he said softly, almost too softly. “You didn’t have a mother to teach you, and you don’t understand how these things work. A woman’s place is beside her husband. Quiet. Supportive. And obedient.”
Her breath caught.
“You’ll learn,” he went on. “Once we’re married, you won’t have to worry your pretty head about anything. I’ll handle the ranch. The ledgers. All the decisions. You’ll sit in the parlor, pouring tea and looking lovely. And you’ll do as you’re told.”
Nora stood there trembling. She looked at her father, waiting and pleading without words for him to say something. Anything. But at the very least, to stand up and tell August he’d made a mistake.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t even look angry. He looked tired. Resigned. As if they had no choice but to accept August’s warped expectations.
Nora felt something inside her crack.
She turned and left the room without saying another word. She didn’t run this time. She wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction. But her steps were quick, her back stiff, and her breath shaking. She reached her room, shut the door, and leaned against it, trembling from head to toe.
A moment later, she heard footsteps in the hall.
“Nora?” Elsie’s voice. “Honey, open up.”
Nora opened the door, and Elsie stepped inside, shutting it behind her. Her face was tight with worry.
“It’ll be all right,” Elsie told her, reaching out to smooth her hair.
“No. It won’t,” Nora replied, shaking her head. “You don’t know. He just signed—”
“I know,” Elsie said. “I was listening at the door.”
Nora broke into sobs, and Elsie pulled her into her arms, holding her as she cried. Nora felt like her heart had been crushed. Betrayed by the one person who was supposed to love her more than anything else in the world.
After a while, Nora’s sobs eased, and Elsie finally spoke. “Hush now, sweetheart. We’re not letting this stand.” She brushed a tear from Nora’s cheek. “Tell me what happened last night, and we’ll figure out the rest.”
Nora told her everything. Every word August had said. Every moment her father had stayed silent or failed to defend her. By the time she finished, her voice was raw.
Elsie’s eyes flashed. “That man’s a snake. And I reckon your pa’s lost his mind.”
Nora sank onto the bed. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t marry him. I can’t.
“I know that,” Elsie said as she paced the room. “We just need to find a way to—I’ve got it!”
Nora jumped, startled by her friend’s proclamation. “You’ve got what?”
“Wait here.” Elsie hurried out of the room.
Nora sat frozen, unsure whether to hope or fear whatever came next.
A moment later, Elsie returned, a folded newspaper in her hand. She shut the door again, then spread the paper open on the bed.
“Here,” she said, running her finger down the columns. “It’s in here. I saw it this morning.”
Nora leaned closer, her curiosity climbing.
“There it is!” Elsie tapped a small, boxed advertisement.
A mail-order bride ad.
Nora stared at it, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Elsie, you’re not serious.”
Elsie put a hand on her hip. “Fine. Marry August Vale, then. Let him turn you into a decoration on his arm and stifle every thought or idea you ever have.” She lowered her voice and whispered the next part.
“Keep the man’s bed warm every night and start producing an army of little Augustes. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Nora scowled.
Elsie took a deep breath and sat down on the bed, taking Nora’s hands in hers. “At least this way, you have a fighting chance. You can get away from here and maybe even marry someone halfway decent.”
Elsie wasn’t joking.
Nora’s heart was racing, and her head felt like it might explode. She looked back at the ad. Then, read a few others on the page. Most were full of flowery nonsense—men promising romance, comfort, and a life of comfort and ease. She didn’t trust a word of them.
But one ad stood out from the rest. It was short. Plain. No frills.
Rancher, age 33, near Helena. Seeking wife willing to work hard alongside me. Must be God-fearing, honest, and prepared for ranch life. Offering home, security, and fair treatment. Life here is what you make of it. No promises beyond that.
Nora read it twice, then shoved it in front of Elsie. “This one.”
Elsie read through it and wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure? The others are better.”
“Better fiction,” Nora scoffed. “This one is honest and upfront.”
She respected it. It was the first honest thing she’d seen in days.
Elsie watched her closely. “Well?”
Nora swallowed. “He sounds… decent.”
“He sounds like a man who won’t try to own you,” Elsie said. “That’s more than you’ll get here.”
Nora looked at the door. At the walls. At the life that was closing in around her.
Then she nodded, stood, and walked over to her writing desk.
Elsie grinned and followed her, looking over her shoulder.
Nora sat down, dipped her pen, and began to write.
Sir,
My name is Nora Whitcomb. I am twenty-five years old and was raised on a working ranch with horses, cattle, pigs, goats, and chickens. I am accustomed to hard work and know what ranch life requires. If your offer of a home and security still stands, I would like to speak further.
She paused, then looked up at Elsie. “Anything else?”
Elsie shook her head. “Not yet. Wait till he writes back.”
Nora nodded and signed her name.
She didn’t mention her schooling or the fact that she could keep ledgers as well as any man. No sense scaring him off right from the start.
Elsie took the letter when she finished, reading it again with a nod. “It’s good. Short. Honest. Strong.”
Nora folded it and placed it in an envelope, sealing it with a small dab of wax.
Her hands shook, but not from fear this time.
From hope. Maybe even anticipation.
“Maybe we should pray over it?” Nora said, turning the envelope over in her hands.
Elsie laughed, snatching the envelope from her. “You can pray while I run this over to the post office. I’ll be right back.”
Nora watched her shut the door behind her, thinking sadly that she’d soon have to leave Elsie behind for good. She glanced around the room she’d grown up in, knowing that she’d have to leave this place, too.
Her gaze caught on the small things that had always made it hers—the faded quilt her mother stitched, the chipped porcelain horse on her dresser, the ribbons and bows that were hanging loose from her dresser.
It was a simple room, but it was warm and familiar. It carried the last traces of her mother’s touch, and the thought of leaving it behind made her heart hurt. But she knew she wouldn’t have the luxury of holding on to it much longer.
She couldn’t focus on that right now. What was left of her poor, shattered heart couldn’t bear any more pain. Not right now. She’d think about that tomorrow.