An Uninvited Bride on his Doorstep by Ava Winters

Chapter Five

“That’ll be five dollars, miss.”

 

Rose looked up at the clerk in shock, trying to hide her widened eyes at hearing what he just said. Five dollars was a scandalous price tag for three sacks of groceries and another sack of household sundries; but the clerk was staring at her, and she reluctantly reached into her bag and pulled out a five-dollar bill.

 

The clerk took it, rang up the sale. “You want I should help you carry these out, miss?” he asked.

 

“Yes, please,” Rose replied in a small voice. She’d never been a math whiz at school, but it was plain as print that her fifty dollars was not going to last the summer at this rate. Her troubled eyes drifted to the plank-board floor as she followed the clerk out of the store and outside to the sidewalk. She had a little wagon there, the size of a child’s toy, that she had pulled behind her into town, and the clerk set the bags down into it.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome, miss,” he nodded, and walked back inside. Rose’s eyes followed him unhappily, and she picked up the little wagon handle and began the long walk back to the farm. Now that she’d sold her aunt’s horse, she had to walk two miles into town, and two miles back; and the rocks in the road were telling her that she’d soon have to replace her shoes because of it.

 

Rose slowly walked through town, and she was keenly aware of the curious glances she got from folks as they rode past her on horses or in buggies. The town was a mix of brick and clapboard buildings, some with advertisements painted over the entryway or sides: Jonas Silver, Dentist; or Honest Jim’s Stables. Horses and mules for rent.

 

An angry tear slipped down her cheek as she trudged, and Rose wiped it away with a frown. She hated it like poison, but she was beginning to see that Miss Barrett had been right; her money was going to run out.

 

There were no jobs in town for a slip of a girl, and she wouldn’t know how to work them if there were. She didn’t know how to sell things or how to clerk at a store. She didn’t know how to do anything but cook, sew and clean.

 

Wife things.

 

Just outside of town, the landscape changed abruptly from a double row of buildings to a vast expanse of new corn rolling off to the horizon, with the nearest houses a good half-mile back from the road. She went from being one in a crowd of people bustling about, to being alone on the road.

 

Rose looked up at the sky and drew a long, shuddering breath. Her hopes for the future were fading. It looked like she wasn’t ever going to have a romance of her own. A boy from the next town over had hung around their house for a while, and he had been good-looking and sweet. But just when she began to hope that he was going to start a romance, his whole family had pulled up stakes and moved to California.

 

I must go, Rose, he’d told her, with his eyes on the ground. My pa is counting on me to help with the farm.

 

That little beginning, over almost as soon as it started, had been the nearest she had come to a romance of her own; and now it looked as if it was going to be the closest she would ever come.

 

She was going to have to marry some fat, disgusting old goat who was looking for a girl half his age, all because she couldn’t afford to wait for the man she really wanted.

 

It wasn’t fair; but if there was one thing she’d learned in her short life, it was that life wasn’t fair.

 

***

 

By the time Rose got back to the house she was worn out and discouraged. When she’d gotten the groceries put away, she went to her chair in front of the fireplace and curled up to re-read her romance novel.

 

She opened its pages and was soon reliving the thrill of a vivid, dramatic romance—the once-in-a-lifetime love that she’d always dreamed of.

 

“Thank you for rescuing me, kind sir,” Daphne breathed gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if—”

 

She sobbed and put a hand to her mouth, and Dan took her hand in his.

 

“You don’t need to thank me, Daphne,” he breathed. “I’ve loved you from afar. I don’t dare to ask that you could love me, but—”

 

Rose closed her eyes and pressed the book to her chest rapturously. She could see it all in her mind—the hero’s dark, earnest eyes, and the leaping firelight warm on his face.

 

Daphne’s eyes filled with tears, and she lowered them in blushing confusion. “I—I don’t know what to say. Except—”

 

She raised her eyes to his, and all that she could not confess shone in them. Dan took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

 

“Oh, my darling,” he breathed. “Marry me, and make me the happiest man in the world.”

 

“Oh, yes Dan—a thousand times yes!”

 

Rose tilted her head and moved her lips slightly in a make-believe kiss with a phantom lover. Finally, she opened her eyes, sighed again, and turned the last page.

 

Dan swept her up in his arms and carried her out to his waiting mount. They rode back into town, where they married that same day and live happily to the end of their days—forever in love.

 

Rose sighed and turned the page over, hoping for another scene. There was no more to the story, but to her surprise, there was another snippet of text at the back of the book that she’d never noticed before.

 

It looked like an advertisement, and Rose frowned as she read:

 

Watch for the next thrilling romance in this series, Peril at Polar Bear Peak! And as a special offer to our faithful readers: for all those seeking real-life romance, mention True Love Publishing for a twenty percent discount on all personal matrimonial advertisements in the new monthly pamphlet, Prairie Confidential. Pre-discount rates, gentleman fifty cents, ladies twenty-five.

 

Rose’s mouth fell open in astonishment. She never dreamed that anything as dull as a matrimonial ad could appear in the back of a lilting, heavenly romance; but there it was in black and white.

 

Was it possible that—maybe—matrimonial ads might not be as bad as she thought? Surely, if the publishers of a beautiful romance could recommend them, they must hold some promise of love.

 

As unlikely as that sounded.

 

Rose bit her lip and frowned. She didn’t have much choice in any case; and the possibility that this cold-blooded arrangement might be less bad than she imagined was a welcome one.

 

It might even be a…well, a sign from God.

 

Kind of.

 

It couldn’t hurt to send off a letter to the address at the back of the book, anyway. She still didn’t like the idea, but she couldn’t deny that the endorsement of her favorite romance publisher had lessened her dread of it.

 

She was curious now.