An Uninvited Bride on his Doorstep by Ava Winters
Chapter Four
“I’d be willing to give you fifty dollars for the lot.”
A dreary week had passed, and the emptiness of the little metal box had forced Rose to start selling her aunt’s possessions. Bob Blevins, the man staring at her, was the owner of the biggest ranch in the county and had come over to buy them. He was astride a gleaming black horse fitted out with black leather tack and silver trim. Mr. Blevins himself was duded up in a black leather jacket, gray hat and gray trousers. He cut a fine figure, but he looked out of place in the ugly patch of dirt that was their front yard. A pair of scrawny chickens went running across it, and Rose felt her face going hot.
Blevins gestured toward the collection of stock and farm implements that Billy and the other hands had kindly cleaned up for his inspection: a pair of plows, a one-year-old mule, her aunt’s horse and buggy, and the horse’s saddle and tack.
Miss Barrett stood beside her on the porch and turned her head to murmur, “Fifty dollars is a fair price, Rose. Take it.”
Rose looked up into Mr. Blevins’ face timidly. “Thank you, Mr. Blevins.”
“You sure you want to sell your aunt’s stock, child?” the man asked briskly. “You can’t make a farm work without a plow or a mule.”
Rose blinked back tears. She had no choice, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that out loud, so she only replied, “I’m sure, Mr. Blevins.”
“All right then. I’ll send one of my boys around to pick ‘em up.” He reached into his vest and pulled out a wad of cash. Rose watched hungrily as he counted fifty dollars out into her hand.
“There you are, young lady. Good luck, Rose. I hope you make out all right. Afternoon, Miss Barrett.” He tipped his hat.
The older woman crossed her arms. “Afternoon, Bob.”
They watched him mount his gleaming horse, turn its head, and send it trotting down the long driveway and down the road.
“Well, Rose,” Miss Barrett sighed, “I guess it had to be, but now you got to sit down and think long and hard what you’re gonna do. Bob is right; you can’t make this farm work without a mule to plow with.”
“I can’t make it work anyway,” Rose murmured hopelessly. “I can’t afford to pay Aunt Audrey’s hands anymore. I had to let them go this morning.” She dug a handkerchief out of her dress pocket and pressed it to her eyes.
“Poor child,” Miss Barrett murmured, and gave her a hug. “I know that was hard, but don’t worry. They’re all big, stout boys. They’ll find work somewhere else.”
“I know they will,” Rose murmured. “But what will I do? This fifty dollars is all I have to live on, and it won’t last forever.”
Her elderly neighbor gave her a shrewd look, and then put an arm around her shoulder. “Come over here and sit down on the swing, Rose,” she muttered. “I want to talk to you.”
She shepherded Rose to the swing, then sat down on it beside her before turning to scan Rose’s face.
“Listen to me, Rose. You may not have a lot of money, but you’re a beautiful young woman and you can find a husband if you set your mind to it. That’s your best chance, Rose. Find a man. You’re right that you’re not going to be able to make a go of this old place. Your uncle was barely able to scratch a living off it, so you needn’t try.
“Here’s what you do; you put an ad in one of those matrimonial magazines.”
Rose blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
Her elderly neighbor took her by the hand. “Rose, honey, you need a husband and you need one fast. The fastest way to find one is to put an ad out to become a mail order bride.”
Rose frowned. “You mean, marry a man I’ve never even met? A man who might turn out to be ugly or fat or old?” Her lower lip quivered.
Miss Barrett clasped her hand. “Well, I hear that the man and the woman swap pictures, and write letters back and forth, and if they like one another, the woman goes out to the man and marries him. It may only take a few weeks, and that’s what you need, Rose,” she added, in a pitying voice.
“But…there’s no romance in that,” Rose objected, in a tone bordering on panic. “It’s like hiring a hand, not falling in love!”
“Now, now,” Miss Barrett soothed, “love doesn’t always happen with a lot of hearts and flowers, child. In fact, it usually doesn’t. It happens in the little things, the everyday things.”
Rose shook her head. “I can’t agree to marry a man without even meeting him, Miss Barrett,” she replied in a trembling voice. “I’ve had to do without a lot of things in my life. I didn’t have the pretty dresses and the jewelry and the fancy parties that some other girls had, and I did without because I knew Aunt Audrey was trying her best to keep a roof over my head and food in my mouth.
“I can get along without money. I’ve done it up to now. But I won’t give up a romance I can call my own just because I’m poor. I won’t go through life with a man I picked out of a catalog, like a pair of shoes or a dress!”
Rose jumped up on the words, fled into the house, and went to her bedroom to throw herself across the mattress and bury her face in the pillow. She listened, sobbing, as the old porch swing creaked just outside her window, and the sound of her elderly neighbor’s boots walked across the porch, down the front steps, and back to her own house.
Rose cried herself out, then finally fell asleep out of pure exhaustion. She dreamed that she was in the mountain cabin in the romance book, only instead of the dastardly kidnapper Reginald, she was sitting in front of a cozy fire with her handsome rescuer, Dan. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and he had one arm stretched protectively around her shoulders.
Marry me, darling, he whispered in her ear; and she turned her eyes to his in delight and shock.
But we barely know one another, she gasped; and he smiled down at her.
I loved you the instant I set eyes on you, Rose. Everything will be all right as long as you love me, too.
She closed her eyes and whispered: Oh, I do love you, Dan! You’re just what I dreamed you’d be.
Everything is going to be all right from now on, he whispered, and as he kissed her, he murmured:
Love conquers all, Rose, just like in the book.