Gabrielle: Bride of Vermont (American Mail-Order Bride 14) Read online

  Clyde laughed. “I don’t know, Boone. I really don’t. But, I can tell you that I’ll pray about it. Let’s give it a little time. Maybe God has got just the right gal out there for you.”

  At that instant Boone’s pole fell to the ground from the precarious perch he’d balanced it upon. It scooted toward the water as the line became taut. He quickly stepped over and bent down to grab it before it was dragged into the water.

  “At the moment, it looks like He’s sure got something for me at the other end of this pole!” Boone grinned at Clyde as he began to pull in the first catch of the day.

  *******

  Clyde crawled silently into bed with his wife, hoping not to disturb her. His back to her, he gently scooted nearer to her. She immediately moved towards the middle of the bed, backing up to him and proceeded to place her ice cold toes against his calves.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, my love! I’ve been waiting for you,” Mattie said as Clyde jumped, feeling his wife’s icy feet on the back of his legs.

  “Woman, what would you do without me to keep you warm!” he exclaimed.

  “Why, Clyde, I guess I’d just have to find someone to fetch me a pair of warm stockings, that’s what! You know I love all of you, inside and out, not just your warm body,” Mattie said soothingly, as she turned over and gave her husband a hug. “What have you been up to so late this evening?”

  Clyde told his wife about his talk with Boone several days prior. Mattie listened intently and tried to imagine the type of woman who’d agree to marry a man she’d never met, with the relationship defined strictly as a companionship. It didn’t seem likely. “Every woman wants to be loved. That’s asking a lot, and I can’t imagine anyone agreeing to that type of life.”

  Clyde agreed with his wife. “I’m afraid you might be right, but—”

  “Oh, I know that sound in your voice, Clyde Williamson. But, what?” Mattie chided.

  “I’ve prayed about it and I’ve decided to send Elizabeth Miller a letter. Do you recall that she has assisted lots of women from back East to find husbands all over the country?”

  Mattie nodded. “Oh, Clyde, yes! I’d forgotten, but now that you mention it, I do remember. Hmm. Wouldn’t it be something if there was a woman out there for Boone? Although finding one who’d agree to such a marriage? I don’t know about that.”

  Mattie was silent for a full minute, contemplating the possibility. Then she voiced her thoughts. “I wonder what she’d be like. Maybe a young widow, or a mother who’s desperate to have a father for her children. Maybe just an adventurer who wants to come out West. Regardless of her circumstances, she’d be lucky to have a good man like Boone. I know he told you he doesn’t plan to love another, but I bet he could learn. She’d sure be disappointed to find she’d married a man who doesn’t want to be loved, though. Don’t you think? I wonder how long it’d take to get a girl way out here anyhow. A few months, maybe?”

  When Clyde didn’t answer her, Mattie knew she’d done it again. She’d talked her husband right off to sleep. She smiled. I should be talking to the Lord about this anyway.

  *******

  At the post office several weeks later, Clyde held an envelope from Elizabeth Miller. He whispered a prayer before tearing it open.

  Dear Clyde and Mattie,

  What a lovely surprise to receive your letter. It has been too long since we’ve seen each other, Mattie. I do miss getting to see you now that you’re no longer making regular trips to Beckham.

  Clyde scanned the letter quickly, hoping to find what he was looking for. When he found it, he took a deep breath and carefully read all the details. Slipping the envelope into his pocket, he buttoned up his coat and left the post office quickly. He needed to locate Boone Dillingham.

  Twenty minutes later he approached the barn behind Boone’s home and walked inside. Boone looked up from the saddle he was working on.

  Clyde stepped over and watched his friend carefully carve an intricate pattern into the leather of the saddle. “Howdy, Boone. How are ya doing?”

  “Good morning, Preacher. Doing about the same as always. Keeping busy enough, for sure. Now that Buck’s moved out, I’ve got a little more to do around here.

  Clyde reached into his pocket and pulled out a bronze object. “There’s a rowel I found to add to your spur collection.”

  Boone nodded his thanks, and picked it up. “Nice one, thanks.”

  “Hard to believe your boy is old enough to be out on his own. But, I guess with all the musical ability he possesses, he can pretty much go wherever he wants and make some kind of living.”

  Boone chuckled. “Well, as his father, I don’t like the idea of him going hither and yon. I sort of like him staying close to home. To be honest, I miss him. It’s just too darn quiet around here.”

  “That’s just the reason I’m here. We need to talk. You got any coffee?”

  “I definitely have coffee. And, I always have time to take a break and drink a cup with an old friend.” Boone set his tools aside and stood up. “Porch, or indoors?”

  “You know me, I always enjoy the porch. Don’t mind the cool weather if I’ve got a hot cup in my hands.” Clyde held the door open for Boone to pass through. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Boone went in his house to prepare the coffee, tossing the new spur in a bucket along with the fifty or so others he’d collected over the years. He wondered what his preacher was up to. He’d recognized Clyde’s tone meant he had something important to talk about.

  Clyde walked over to Boone’s corral and surveyed the horses. Boone had done well for himself, between selling horses and making the finest saddles in the territory. He tried to picture a woman fitting into this setting.

  Lord, You know who and what Boone needs. I pray You’d give ear to this conversation and lead the whole thing in a way that’ll bring honor to You. I thank You for working out all the details to this thing, and I ask You to stop it from coming to be if it isn’t what’s best for him.

  Clyde saw Boone making his way out of the house with two steaming cups of coffee. He hurried onto the porch and took one.

  “Thank you kindly. Smells good. Like always,” Clyde said as he carefully raised the cup to his lips.

  “So, what brings you out here in the middle of a day? Must be pretty important for you to make a special trip,” Boone asked.

  They sat in rocking chairs and looked out over Boone’s property.

  “I sent the letter to our family friend up in Massachusetts, like I told you I would. She replied back with a letter for you.” He removed the envelope from his pocket and handed Boone one of the two letters it contained.

  Boone waited for several seconds before he took a deep breath and reached out to take the letter from Clyde.

  Dear Mr. Dillingham,

  Clyde Williamson speaks very highly of you and tells me of your desire for a bride. I have a longstanding friendship with him, as well as his lovely wife, Mattie, and therefore trust him implicitly.

  It’s quite unusual for a man to seek a wife simply for companionship, and I must tell you, it’s quite unexpected to have this request before me now. Even more surprisingly, I find myself delighted to have received a letter from a woman in whom you might be interested. Clyde’s letter and hers arrived on the same day. In light of the contents of both letters, I believe this wasn’t a coincidence, but more of a divine appointment, if you will.

  In the interest of time, I am forwarding Miss Gabrielle Petersen’s letter along with this one, as I want there to be absolute clarity of her intention. If you find yourself in agreement, please respond directly to me with the funds for passage by train from Beckham, Massachusetts, to Dallas, Texas, and also by stagecoach from there to Wiggieville, Texas. I will make further arrangements and notify you of Miss Petersen’s expected date of arrival should you both be willing to proceed. My fees and other financial consideration are listed on the attached ledger.

  Your response must be in the form of a le
tter to Miss Petersen, which I will read first. I implore you to be just as candid as she is. You both have unusual stipulations and must be in complete agreement before I will make any arrangements for travel. Please respond immediately, advising me of your decision, as I expect Miss Petersen at any time. If all goes as expected, you will receive a telegram from me informing you of her travel departure and expected date of arrival.

  Most sincerely,

  Elizabeth Miller

  “Do you know what this is, Clyde?” Boone asked nervously.

  “I didn’t read it, but Elizabeth told me what it’s all about.” Clyde looked at his friend. “Are you just gonna sit there, or are you going to read the letter from the young woman?”

  “I’ll read it. I just didn’t expect to hear something so quickly. And if I’m telling it like it really is, then I gotta say I didn’t expect to get an answer at all! I thought I’d made it near impossible for God to work out the details on this one.”

  “Our God is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think. This just might be one of those things.”

  “What’s the address of that one? Ephesians?”

  Clyde nodded and gestured toward the other note, which was still folded and held by Boone.

  He looked down and slowly began to unfold the letter, his pulse picking up a beat or two. The handwriting was attractive, with flourishes and a beauty that reminded him of the scrollwork he frequently used while working with leather.

  Dear Miss Miller,

  I find myself rather shocked to be writing this letter. I was living in Lawrence, Massachusetts, when a terrible fire burned down the textile mill where I worked for years. The mill closed down immediately, and I was unable to obtain employment anywhere. Of course, you know of the event, as I’ve been told you’ve been helping several of my friends locate husbands.

  Being a diligent and hard worker, I was dismayed at being unable to find employment in the weeks that followed. This was a great disappointment to me.

  I decided I would move to Blackwood, Vermont, to live with my mother and find work there. Unfortunately, that plan ended devastatingly. Therefore, I am now seeking your services.

  I will go wherever I need to go, and I’ll work tirelessly. I am adaptable. It would please me greatly to find a man as far west as possible who’d be willing to support me. I’ve read of wide prairies, distant sunsets, and wild horses, but I’ve lived and worked in crowded cities my entire life. I long to be free of the chaos that surrounds me.

  I’m looking for a partner more than a husband. That is to say, I want a husband in name only. I’m sure there must be a fellow out there who has need of a true helper. I would be content to assist a man in raising his children if he’s a widower. I am not picky.

  I must be honest from the beginning and emphasize that I want nothing more than to work and to be safe. It wouldn’t matter to me if the man were old or homely. I will work hard for a roof over my head and food on the table. I doubt you can find a man who’d take a woman who has no need of affection, but that is who I seek. I would prefer something more like a business arrangement than a marriage.

  I have dark hair and blue eyes. I am tall and maybe a bit thin, but I am a strong woman, nearly thirty years old. I would be able to travel with little or no advance notice.

  Respectfully,

  Gabrielle Petersen

  Boone quickly glanced over the rest, which was more about contact details. Next, he read the letter aloud for his friend’s benefit. When he was done, he looked at Clyde with raised eyebrows and a smile. “What do you make of that?” he asked slowly.

  Clyde stared at him and grinned, astonished at what the letter had said. “More importantly, what do you make of it?”

  Boone stood up quietly and walked to the edge of his porch, staring out across his land at the horses running playfully in the corral. He pointed. “Would you call that a prairie?”

  Clyde joined him, reaching over and placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I’d call it pretty darn close.”

  *******

  Dear Miss Petersen,

  I’m Daniel Boone Dillingham. Folks call me Boone. I live a few hours, by stagecoach, southwest of Dallas, Texas. I own several acres of land, where I raise and sell horses, outside of town. That’s Coltonville, by the way. I also make saddles, which is my primary livelihood.

  I’ve been a widower for a long time and have decided that I’d like a woman to come and live out here with me. I’m willing to take care of a wife, providing food, shelter, and a safe haven. I have plenty of room in my house, though it’s probably not as clean as a woman would appreciate, so I could use some help there.

  I want someone to enjoy life with, maybe passing the time watching the sun set from my front porch from time to time. I need someone to work alongside me on my ranch, occasionally. I won’t lie. I’ve been a bachelor for a long time and I’m just plain wanting someone to talk with now and then. I’m not interested in romance so I’ll just say that right now and be clear about it. I know it’s an unusual request, but that’s what I’m committed to. A companion partnership. Nothing more, and nothing less.

  I’m respected in the community and I guess I’m not too bad to look at, if it matters any to you. With a marriage based on the commitment to work side-by-side, I don’t reckon looks are too important, anyway. It’s who we are on the inside that matters, isn’t it?

  From what I read in your letter, it sounds like we might have a mutual understanding between us. If you’re willing to join me on the terms I’ve mentioned, then I’ll look forward to meeting you in Wiggieville when Elizabeth Miller says you’ll be here.

  Best wishes,

  Boone Dillingham

  Boone hurriedly rode to the post office in town and mailed the letter before he lost his nerve. He was fairly certain that once Gabrielle Petersen it, she’d probably reconsider, seeing as how he wanted a marriage in name only. Thankful that Elizabeth Miller would decide whether or not the woman should join him, he felt a sense of relief. If Preacher Clyde trusted Elizabeth’s judgement, then so would he. Boone determined to put it out of his mind and trust in the Lord for the outcome. That’s what he’d been doing for the last eight years, and things had worked out all right.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Beckham, Massachusetts

  Gabrielle’s palms were sweaty in spite of the frigid air. She stared at the closed door in front of her. Could she do it? Would she be able to step through the doorway and start a life that would be completely different from what she’d ever imagined? Thoughts and misgivings swirled through her mind. Even though she knew the answer, she still wondered with dismay how it had actually come to this.

  Once she knocked on Elizabeth Miller’s door, she knew she’d follow through with the ridiculous path she’d started on. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly, keenly aware that her knuckles seemed to have a mind of their own. She felt strangely detached from her body. Her thoughts flew in several directions and her body felt numb, but she was driven to complete this mission.

  A nicely dressed gentleman greeted her warmly when he opened the door. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”

  Gabrielle bit her bottom lip and stared, wide-eyed. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words were forthcoming. Her heart raced, but and she wanted to respond, so she tried clearing her throat.

  Still, no words.

  He smiled patiently and asked, “Are you here to see Elizabeth Miller?”

  Gabrielle nodded once, her blue eyes wide and nervous. Apparently that was all the information he needed since he opened the door widely and gestured for her to enter. “Miss Petersen?”

  She found her voice as she stepped into the well-appointed home. “Yes. Thank you. I’m Gabrielle Petersen.”

  He led her to an office with a small sofa and gestured for her to sit. “Miss Miller will be with you directly.”

  Gabrielle sat and breathed in and out deeply. She exhaled slowly once more as a nicely dress
ed woman with a warm smile stepped in and introduced herself.

  One glance at Gabrielle and she knew just what was needed. “It’s rather chilly outside, Miss Petersen. I’m going to have a cup of hot tea. Will you join me?"

  Gabrielle nodded and watched as the woman stepped into the hall and asked someone to bring tea and cookies. Elizabeth stepped over to her desk and picked up an envelope. “I’ll be right back. In the meantime, here’s a letter that just arrived for you.” She smiled at Gabrielle before leaving the room.

  When Gabrielle saw the return address, tears stung her eyes and she quickly opened the envelope from one of her previous roommates in Lawrence.

  My Dearest Gabby,

  I can’t tell how grief-stricken I became when I received the sad news of your mother’s passing. I know how much you loved her. It brought home the fact that if I were to stay on with my parents any longer, my mother might quickly suffer the same fate, if by more violent means. That very night, I answered an advertisement from the Groom’s Gazette Roberta gave me when you all left Lawrence. There was nothing else I could do…or rather, *would* do. You will never guess where I will be going with my new groom, Matthew Turner: ALASKA!

  You must remember how much I’ve longed to see the great glaciers described by John Muir. On top of that, my “husband” has even less interest in being married than do I. This is my dream come true! I arrived in Seattle yesterday, and we were married scarcely minutes after that.