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Santa Fe Mail Order Brides Box Set Page 2
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“No,” Delia agreed but refused to accept the paper. “The pastor said a friend of his in Santa Fe sent it to him and he thought maybe you’d assist him in fulfilling his friend’s request.” The older woman sidled closer to her sister and bent to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “It’s almost scandalous if you ask me,” she murmured and then giggled. “Go on, read it,” she urged, but refused to allow Cece any privacy. Cecelia sighed heavily and turned her attention back to the letter.
“Hello my old friend,” she read silently to herself. “I find myself in need of your assistance. Elijah Wells, our minister here in Santa Fe has decided to endeavor in a new quest. Since our small town lacks many eligible women, he’d like to seek assistance in locating mail-order brides. Please keep in mind that he seeks God-fearing women of good moral values. My paper doesn’t have the circulation necessary to reach many, so I thought perhaps you could assist us. My sincerest thanks to you for any help you may provide. Signed, Walter Mathers.”
As she read the words, Cece felt an odd peace settle over her. It was as if God Himself spoke to her. She held the answer to her prayers in her hands, and apparently Pastor Tupper thought so as well.
“I have to go,” Cece blurted, and lifted her skirts as she turned and ran back in the direction she had just come from.
She found Pastor Kerr Tupper exactly where she thought she would. He sat on the front pew in the large church at the corner of Arch and Broad Streets. Founded in 1698, the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia was home to many, many parishioners. Dr. Tupper only been pastor for two short years, since Dr. Boardman’s declining health had made it difficult for him to continue as honorary pastor.
Cece and Daniel had developed a close friendship with Pastor Tupper. The elder man having been widowed a few years ago, Cece and Daniel hosted many dinners for him in an effort to provide him with a little company. Daniel used to say that the wizened man reminded him of his grandfather.
She sat on the pew next to the pastor and smoothed her skirts before turning toward him.
“I see you got my letter,” he mused with a small smile. “What do you think, can we help them?” The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gazed knowingly at her.
Cece smiled and tucked her chin shyly. She knew what she was about to propose could be considered indecent, but God had laid it on her heart and she had no choice but to obey His command. It hadn’t failed her yet.
“Yes,” she replied and then met Kerr’s soft blue eyes. “I think we can,” she agreed. “Actually, I’d like to go to Santa Fe –” she paused when the pastor’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I know it’s a bold move, but God has told me that my new place is there. Maybe I can help the minister with his mission.”
Pastor Tupper studied her through those narrowed eyes for several long moments, long enough for Cece to squirm uncomfortably.
“My dear,” he suddenly declared. “I think that’s a promising idea. You’re right, it’s a very bold move, but I know you’re strong enough and I think Daniel would want you to do it.” He paused when her eyes misted with unshed tears. He reached forth and covered her clasped hands with his wrinkled one. “He would admire your tenacity and willingness to obey God.”
Cece sniffled softly and pulled a silk handkerchief from her little black handbag. She lightly dabbed her eyes and smiled when the pastor patted on the shoulder.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, and she couldn’t suppress the delighted giggle that rushed out. At forty-one, she was too old to make such a treacherous move, but since she and Daniel had no children of their own, she had no family other than Delia and her husband Frank.
What did she have to lose?
Chapter Three
E li dropped the chipped coffee mug he’d been washing when the front door banged open.
“Pa, Mr. Mathers is here,” Mark announced loudly and then fled back outside. Eli shook his head and reached for a cloth to dry his soapy hands on. In the midst of doing morning dishes, he’d been so lost in thought that he’d almost jumped through the tiny window above the sink when Mark threw the door open.
The small newspaper man stepped across the threshold and removed his dusty bowler hat.
“I’ve brought some news,” Walter informed him with a smile. “You remember that friend of mine in Philadelphia? The one I sent the letter to?”
Eli nodded, recalling their meeting some months ago.
“Well, I finally heard back from him and you’re not gonna believe what he said!” Walter exclaimed. Eli motioned the smaller man toward the dinner table.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Eli asked.
“No, no I’m too excited as it is.” Walter waved his host’s offer away.
Eli sighed and pulled out a chair before settling himself into it.
“Well, go on,” Eli urged. “Tell me before you burst.”
“Dr. Tupper - he’s the pastor of the First Baptist Church in Philadelphia – said that he prayed about this and finally conferred with a friend of his…” his voice trailed off. “This next part is the important part,” he informed Eli in a most serious tone. “His friend is a widow by the name of Cecelia Baker and she’s on her way here to Santa Fe to help us get started.”
Eli’s eyebrows rose in question. One woman from the East was a start.
“Is she coming in response to Matthew’s ad?” Eli asked, wanting more details than Walter provided.
“That’s the strange thing,” Walter said. “She isn’t responding to an ad, she wants to help organize things at the paper. She wants to help get the word out to other women. Ingrid and I have offered to let her board with us. Dr. Tupper raved at Mrs. Baker’s tenacity and dedication. He said she’s one of the most active members of his congregation.”
“Why is she coming all the way out here, then?” Eli asked.
Walter’s smile vanished and he twisted his hat in his busy hands.
“Apparently she’s recently widowed and God laid it on her heart to help. Dr. Tupper said that she mentioned needing a change and a purpose. But there’s something else,” Walter confessed. “Dr. Tupper says that God has showed him that Mrs. Baker has an important role in this mission.”
“Well, did he say what that role is?” Eli pondered with a laugh.
“No,” Walter answered a bit quickly and Eli wondered if maybe the newspaper man wasn’t hiding something from him. “Well, yes, he did,” Walter confessed just as quickly. “But I can’t tell you just yet, alright? So, please don’t ask me no more.”
Eli held his hands up, palms facing Walter and chuckled again.
“Alright, I won’t ask. But I am glad we’re getting somewhere with this, I’m beginning to worry ‘bout my boys,” he admitted. “They’ve gone without Janet for so long, I’m afraid that any girl who meets one of them will think he was raised by wolves.” His gaze strayed toward the still-open door.
“I’d like for you to be in town when Mrs. Baker arrives,” Walter’s request brought Eli’s attention back to his guest. “She’s looking forward to meeting her new minister,” he finished.
Eli nodded.
“Of course, a fresh face in the congregation will be greatly appreciated,” he mused. “Not to mention that one of the young fHopes may try and snatch her up for his own.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Walter argued. “She’s forty-one and not looking for a matrimonial match.”
For some unknown reason, Eli’s heart began to race. A recently widowed woman around his own age was traveling so far from her only home to a town filled with single men, to help find said men agreeable matches. But she wasn’t looking for one of her own? He glanced back at Walter and didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in the man’s eyes.
Elijah stood alongside Walter in front of the stage station. He reached up and ran his hands over his neatly combed hair and then down to his wool jacket. He’d rummaged around in his chest until coming across a decent change of dress clothes.
A large p
lume of dust heralded the arrival of the stage and both men shuffled their feet nervously.
Once the team came to a standstill, the driver jumped down with the wooden stool and pulled open the small door. Offering a dirty, callused hand, he helped a woman dressed solely in black as she stepped out of the cramped space.
Once both of her feet were on the ground, she raised her gaze to the two waiting men and offered a wide, beaming smile.
“Which of you gentlemen is Mr. Mathers?” she inquired, and Eli’s heart clenched, just a little. She may have been over forty, but she seemed to glow from within. Sea green eyes were framed with thick, black eyelashes and her smile filled him with happiness.
While he was busy being strange and speechless, Walter stepped forward with an extended hand.
“That’d be me, Mrs. Baker,” he answered. “May I introduce you to Minister Wells?” He motioned toward Eli which prompted the quiet man to snap out of his stupor.
“Minister Wells,” Mrs. Baker repeated, and released Walter’s hand to offer hers to Eli. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you and Mr. Mathers, and I especially look forward to attending Sunday service.”
“Eli,” Eli quickly corrected her. “Please, call me Eli.” He clasped her hand in both of his as if they were made of the finest china.
Eli noticed Walter’s wide smile even though his friend tried to turn away and hide it. Suddenly a beam of sunlight filtered through the clouds, their rays shining directly down onto Mrs. Baker’s shoulders. The beautiful light illuminated her in such a way that Eli would almost swear she was an angel from Heaven.
“Well then, you must call me Cece,” she returned. “It’s short for Cecelia,” she added hastily. “My daddy always called me his “Lil Cece.” She smiled. “Then my older sister Delia just continued with it, so...” Her voice trailed off and a light blush dusted her fair cheeks. “I’m sorry, I tend to ramble when I’m nervous.”
“No, not at all,” Eli argued. “I’d love to hear more about you.” He cast a quick glance at Walter . “You think Ingrid would mind us dropping in for some coffee?”
Snapping to from his attempt to remain in the shadows, Walter removed his hat and smiled at them both.
“Of course, she’d be angry if I didn’t invite you along.” He stooped to gather Cece’s two carpet bags from where the driver had dropped them, and motioned for them to follow him.
Eli gestured for Cece to precede him, and then fell into step just behind her. Immediately, he felt a sense of peace, and he looked forward to getting to know his new partner better. She walked forward with calm confidence, even into these unfamiliar circumstances.
He couldn’t help but smile at this fortunate turn of events. It just went to prove that God’s hand was in everything and He always provided for those who needed. And he had a feeling that Mrs. Cece Baker was just what they all needed.
Chapter One
July 7, 1899
M atthew lifted the pitchfork loaded with a bundle of dried grass and tossed it toward the flat wagon. His younger brother Mark stood atop the wheeled vehicle and arranged the stalks so they’d travel without falling off.
“Why don’t you two take a break and let us help out?” Elijah Wells asked and jumped down from the wagon he’d just arrived in. Matthew’s two youngest brothers Luke and John clambered out of the back, and commenced wrestling on the dusty ground.
“Sure thing Pa,” Matt replied and leaned the pitchfork against the side of their wagon before walking over to separate his teenaged siblings before one or the both of them got hurt. He successfully pried them apart and stepped to the side of the wagon for a sip of water from the barrel.
Following Matt’s break retreat, Mark jumped down from the partially loaded wagon and handed his tool to Luke before cuffing John playfully on the back of the head as the two boys waltzed past him.
“You get stackin’ duty, lil’ brother,” Mark informed the blond-headed fifteen year old. Only a handful of years separated the brothers in age. Matthew had recently turned twenty-four, Mark was twenty-one till September, and Luke turned eighteen in February, which left John at fifteen until December.
As the eldest, Matt tried to tend the farm and homestead, allowing his father more time for his post as church minister. Also, in addition to being the area’s pastor, Elijah Wells had partnered with Walter Mathers, the local newspaper owner and Mrs. Cecelia Baker, a widow from Philadelphia and formed a Christian mail order bride company they’d called Santa Fe Stagecoach Mail Order Brides. They ran ads in the local paper and Mr. Mathers also sent them to his friends in Philadelphia, San Francisco, and Boulder.
Mr. Mathers claimed he didn’t have the circulation numbers that bigger cities did and hopefully after a few years, that would change.
Mrs. Baker had bought and renovated the old rundown saloon building, turning it into a decent boarding house for any female prospects who decided to travel to Santa Fe in answer to an ad.
Matthew also suspected that his pa and Mrs. Baker were sweet on one another. From the day she’d first stepped off the stagecoach, Eli had done nothing but talk about her nonstop. She sat in the front row during Sunday services and even cooked for them, on occasion.
So far, three of the local bachelors had found good, honest, God-fearing women through the agency. Jack Trenton, the local blacksmith had married just yesterday.
Cece’s boarding house currently hosted two more young women and the Sandler twins were courting them. Matt had been terrified to place an ad in the Santa Fe New Mexican, but after watching the efforts his father went through to help all the local single men, he couldn’t let him down. So, he’d taken the bull by the horns and wrote a nice ad with the help of Mrs. Cece Baker.
He still blushed when he thought about how she’d worded it for him:
Bride Wanted: Hard-working, God-fearing Christian
Man, twenty-four years of age in search of a woman
of equal values and hobbies.
He’d been both pleasantly surprised and terrified when a young lady from Charleston, West Virginia, had answered not a month after his ad first ran. She’d explained that her father had died a little over a year ago. She and her mother had a small house in town where she wrote articles for the town paper and her mother cooked at the local hotel. Together they managed to make ends meet, but she dreamed of adventure and had always wanted to see the rustic “wild west.”
After a few months of corresponding back and forth, he finally worked up the nerve to tell her that Santa Fe wasn’t all that “wild” anymore, but she’d later argued that anything outside of Charleston would be an improvement for her. The more they wrote to one another, the more he felt a kinship with her. He’d been pleased to learn that she and her mother were both regular church members and she read the Bible everyday.
He finally admitted to his father that he was smitten with Miss Grace Williams, or Grace as she’d instructed him to address her, and he looked forward to the day when he worked up the nerve to send for her. In addition to being extremely thoughtful and brilliant, he’d recently learned from a little tintype she’d sent him that she was beautiful as well.
She had very long, dark, curly hair and equally dark eyes. Since all tintypes lacked color, he’d asked about her eye color, to which she’d responded that they were “a very dull, ordinary brown.” He doubted that very much. He’d stared at the little photograph for hours on end that day and still swore he felt an inviting warmth in her gaze.
He looked forward to receiving her letters every week or so. She always regaled him with fantastical stories of her family’s travels since her father had been an officer in the Army.
She’d written of how she’d swam in the mighty Mississippi River and rode the original Ferris wheel at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, Illinois.
She grew up riding horses, shooting guns, hunting and fishing; basically everything Matthew liked doing.
There really wasn’t much c
all for shooting on the homestead unless it was hunting or scaring off varmints, but he both appreciated and admired her tenacity in learning to do something not many women would. She’d also told him of her love for reading, so he’d asked Mrs. Cece to help him order some of the books she suggested.
He’d read half of them and was pleased to find that he, too, liked reading. He especially liked the dime novels depicting Billy the Kid, Wild Bill Hickok, and Buffalo Bill Cody. As a young man he liked the brash, bold, rough-and-tough cowboy attitude, but as a Christian, he didn’t condone killing unless it was absolutely necessary.
He told her as much and when it came time for him to describe himself and his interests, he’d told her of his love of woodworking and furniture making and was pleased when she’d praised his artistic manner.
“Daydreaming about Miss Williams again?” Luke elbowed Matt playfully in the ribs as headed toward the water barrel. Snagging the ladle from Matt’s hand, he dunked it in the cool spring water and raised it to his own lips for a nice, long guzzle. Matt watched in amusement until the last drop was gone and then snatched it back to get a drink of his own.
He’d been so lost thinking about Grace that he’d all but forgotten to slake his own thirst. He tossed the ladle back in the barrel and took an old bandanna from his back pocket. Mopping at the sweat beading on his forehead and neck, he let his gaze roam over to an old oak tree and wished for a nap in the shade.
But, never one to slack off when there was work to be done, he tucked the damp bandanna back into his back pocket and headed back over to where his pa was pitching hay.
“I’m good Pa, I can get back to work,” Matt informed him, and held out his open hand for the pitchfork.
Elijah waved him off and removed his hat to wipe his brow across his long-sleeved shirt.
“Nonsense, you have other things to do,” Eli argued. “You and Mark head on back to the homestead and wash up. If you hurry, you have just enough time to reach town before nightfall.” He replaced his hat and bent back for another load.