Chapter 1 #2
“It’s not your fault.” She bent her head over the paper and concentrated. She needed a place to live, so it behooved her to make sure this letter provided all the right information. Enough about her to reassure the man. Of course, she had to mention Poppy.
She’s my friend’s child and very sweet-natured.
Did she need to reveal the circumstances of the child’s birth? No, not yet, but she would before they’d corresponded long. It was only fair that any man planning to marry her and become Poppy’s father was made aware of the sweet child’s background.
She went on to list her qualifications as a potential wife.
Although I am only eighteen years old, I have had much experience. I’ve tended my grandmother’s house since I was ten. I am a churchgoer too and believe strongly in God’s love and care.
Despite the circumstances, she still believed in His provision, although it was hard to see His hand at work in the moment. Nevertheless, she clung to the thinning threads of her trust.
She was about to sign her name when Zach spoke.
“Best add that you’re able-bodied and pretty enough.”
He’d read over her shoulder? She jerked so hard that a blob of ink landed on the envelope Mr. Jarvis provided. Pretty enough. It had always been so. Her sister was pretty. Amelia, pretty enough. Not that she resented her sister for that assessment. Debra was always kind to Amelia. Well, mostly.
If he found her such, why wasn’t he giving her a chance rather than abandoning her to an uncertain future?
Her hand shaking, she added that she was able-bodied. “Where shall I tell him to contact me?”
She had no home, no address, no bed upon which to find rest. And how was she to provide food for the two of them while she awaited a reply?
Her meager funds wouldn’t last long. All her letters had been sent to and from an address in Fort Macleod, the place where she’d last seen any sign of civilization.
Her instructions had been to board the stagecoach and continue west. She’d done so with a heart full of hope.
She’d endured the stagecoach ride cheerfully, believing a new and welcome life awaited her at the end.
How was she to know this had all been a cruel hoax? Her knees turned to pudding, and she leaned against the counter to stay upright.
“He can send it here… to Golden Valley.” Zach seemed to think this was satisfactory.
She did not. But she added the information, affixed her signature, blotted the ink, and waved the page to dry before she folded it, inserted it into the envelope, and glued it shut. She added the address for the Matrimonial News. The paper would forward it to the Dakota farmer.
The dark letters of the words on the rectangle in her hand danced before her eyes. This was all a horrible nightmare.
She handed the envelope to Mr. Jarvis.
He fumbled with it. “Zach, this doesn’t seem right.”
“Don’t seem right for whoever pretended to be me not to show up.” Not a smidgen of relenting in his firm words.
Mr. Jarvis lifted the letter in a sign of agreement, or perhaps confusion at this drama taking place in his store. He glued on a stamp and set the letter in the pile of outgoing mail.
Zach nodded, satisfied. “Well, that’s that.” He again headed for the door.
Amelia considered her options, but she had none.
“Guess Poppy and I will stand here and wait for a reply from that man. Mr. Jarvis, how long do you suppose it takes to get a letter to this place in the Dakota Territory and for a reply to make its way here? I expect we will have to correspond back and forth for a few weeks.”
Zach stopped, his back to her.
“Oh, don’t worry about us, Mr. Taggerty.” Her voice was sharp, perhaps a bit accusing, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been misled far worse than he. “We’ll be just fine. Yes, just fine. Poppy is such an agreeable girl. She won’t fuss at all when we sleep outside and beg for food scraps.”
“Zach.” Mr. Jarvis’s voice carried a warning note. “What would your ma want you to do?”
Zach ground about. “She’d want me to look after my sister, my father, and the ranch.
But no doubt she’d think I should show a little Christian charity.
” He managed to make it sound like he’d swallowed some bitter seeds and couldn’t wait to spit them out.
“Very well. You and the young one can stay at the ranch until you hear from this man. You got luggage?”
“Yes. A trunk at the station where the stagecoach stops.” Just in case he didn’t know, but of course, he would. She was the one confused.
“It all you got?”
“That and the box beside it.” She clung to her traveling case.
“I’ll give you a hand.” Mr. Jarvis hurried around the counter and out the door to help Zach. “Good thing you brought the wagon.”
“I had to pick up a few things while I was in town.”
None of which was an eager new wife and a sweet child.
Holding Poppy by the hand, Amelia went to the wagon.
Her day had started out full of promise as she anticipated marrying a man she thought she’d grown to love in the weeks they’d corresponded.
But there was no such man. Only disappointment and, if she were honest, a large dose of fear.
Had God abandoned her? No, her circumstances might have taken an unexpected and unpleasant turn, but God’s faithfulness had not changed.
Never will I leave thee nor forsake thee.
Never before had her faith been more severely challenged.
Mr. Jarvis helped her up to the wagon and lifted Poppy to her. “Things will work out. You’ll see.”
“Thank you.” But it would take more than the shopkeeper’s pleasant words for that to happen.
Zach studied the woman out of the corner of his eyes as they left the dusty town of Golden Valley and continued down the dusty trail toward the ranch.
If they didn’t get rain soon, everything would turn to dust. And he didn’t mean gold dust, such as what occupied greedy miners to the west. Of course, not all were greedy.
Some were desperate. If the drought continued, he might have to join the ranks of the latter and try his hand at panning for gold in order to save the ranch.
He’d about worn out his hope that God would listen to any of his prayers and send the urgently needed moisture.
How many petitions had he uttered about Pa’s mental state, about the ranch, the need for rain, and his sister, Kathy?
At fourteen years of age, she’d turned into a rebel.
Ma would be so disappointed. Not only in Kathy but also in Zach, although he was doing his very best to handle everything.
None of his prayer requests had been answered. None since his ma’s death. Maybe God only listened to Ma’s prayers. and with her gone…
He stifled a groan. Such thoughts were foolish, which signified the depth of his discouragement.
Poppy shifted in Miss Pressly’s lap and studied Zach. The child was sweet-looking with fair hair sticking out from under her bonnet and dark eyes that seemed to search into his very soul.
It was only the intense look of a baby. He remembered when Kathy had studied him the same way as if memorizing him. Now her looks seared his skin.
“Bird.” Poppy pointed to a crow flapping in the air.
“Yup, a crow.”
“Bird.”
Miss Pressly laughed. “Poppy, a crow is a bird.”
Zach’s gaze connected with Miss Pressly’s over Poppy’s head.
Her eyes were an unusual green color, like some kind of a gem.
Her hair wasn’t blonde, nor was it brown.
No doubt there was a proper name for the color, but it reminded him of a field mouse.
He almost snorted as he thought about how the young lady would react if he described her hair as mousy-looking.
“Is Poppy your daughter?”
“If you’d read my letters, you’d know she’s the daughter of a friend who died, and I’m her guardian.”
“I would have read your letters if I’d gotten them.” Someone was playing a cruel trick on both of them. Come to think of it, though it was an inconvenience for him, it was more like a disaster for her. But no matter her predicament, he didn’t intend to marry her to correct it.
“Well, someone got them and wrote back to me.” She faced forward, her lips pressed into a disapproving frown.
“Are you suggesting I got them but am pretending otherwise?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “How am I to know you aren’t making this all up?” Except she knew about Kathy and his parents. But how hard would it be for her to get that information by asking around?
“Mr. Taggerty, even if I didn’t have Poppy to consider, I would not be so foolish as to arrive in this place without believing I had a home waiting for me.”
“I suppose not.” They rode on in silence except for Poppy pointing to things and calling the names of them, though he often guessed that the words she spoke carried a meaning.
He slanted a look at her. He could remember when Kathy was learning to talk.
So sweet and innocent. Now look at her. He sank into his troubled thoughts.
Miss Pressly leaned forward. “There’s the turnoff to the ranch just like you described it. The big trees on either side of the gate. The sign over the top. Bar T. You said you wanted to put some flowers here in memory of your ma. Guess you never got around to it.”
“Guess I never knew I planned it in the first place.” But it was a good idea. If this drought ever ended, he’d do that.
They turned off the road and onto the trail leading to the ranch.
Miss Pressly sat straighter, her arms around Poppy, her fingers intertwined, her knuckles white. For a moment, he allowed himself a little pity toward her and her situation.
She sucked in air. “Is your pa any better?”
“What do you know about Pa?”
“What you told me.”