Buch lesen: «Mail Order Mix-Up»

For every teacher who inspires and encourages. Thank you for giving so generously of the gifts God gave you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

August 1870

“I do hope Garrett Decker is as handsome as that gentleman over there that you find so fascinating.”

Pearl Lawson started at her friend’s comment and absently adjusted her sleeve while keeping a good grip on the steamship railing. “I can’t imagine who you mean.”

She hadn’t been staring, had she? The striking gentleman standing not twenty feet away on the promenade deck certainly warranted more than a casual glance. He wore an impeccable dark brown suit that matched the color of his hair. The breezes off Lake Michigan ruffled the thick locks that ought to be topped by a hat, but that minor impropriety was not what had drawn Pearl’s attention. No, it was the vigor of his gestures during conversation with an older gentleman. Clearly they were discussing something more interesting than the calm seas and clear blue skies. Pearl longed for spirited discussion. Any topic of current concern would do, as long as it didn’t dwell on the weather or one’s health.

An impish twinkle sparked in Amanda’s eye. “He would make a fine beau.”

“That’s not why we’re here. I have a teaching position, and you are getting married.”

Amanda fiddled with the clasp of her nearly empty bag. “I’m not so certain about that any longer.”

Pearl understood her friend’s jitters. Getting married to a man she’d never met must be terrifying. “I’m sure Garrett Decker will be even more charming and handsome than that man.”

“How can you know? We only have the advertisement.” Amanda slipped the newspaper clipping from her bag. After two weeks of agonized second-guessing, it was frayed and creased to the point of falling apart. “‘Widower with handsome inheritance seeks wife in booming town soon to rival Chicago. Well-furnished, comfortable house. Inquire at mercantile for Mr. Garrett Decker. Singapore, Michigan,’” she said. “It says nothing of his appearance.” Her hand trembled. “Or his temperament.”

Pearl squeezed her friend’s arm. “If he doesn’t suit, then we shall get along together. My wages ought to support two frugal women.” She gave Amanda an encouraging smile. “No one knows better how to stretch a penny.”

Amanda answered with a shake of her ebony curls. “You have always done much better than I.” She fingered the satin ribbons on her hat. “Is it wrong to be fond of pretty things?”

“Not for someone as lovely as you.”

Amanda lifted her violet eyes, which abruptly widened. “Don’t look now, but your gentleman has noticed you.”

“More likely you. After all, you are the pretty one.”

Amanda blushed. “But I am practically spoken for. At least as soon as we arrive in Singapore. This gentleman should be for you.”

“You know that I cannot marry. The terms of my teaching contract were quite specific on that point.”

“But it’s not fair.”

Pearl had thought that at first, but upon reflection she could understand their point. “They do not wish to hire a teacher only to lose her shortly afterward. It is no hardship for me to postpone any thoughts of marriage for a year. I have no prospects at present, and a true gentleman would wait as long as necessary. Even if someone should profess undying love, I will be too busy with the school to consider courting, least of all marriage.”

“I don’t know how you can dismiss romance so easily. If that fine-looking gentleman asked to get acquainted, you couldn’t possibly deny him.”

“I can, and I will.” Yet even as Pearl spoke, she could see her friend’s attention drawn down the railing.

“He’s looking the other way now. We must do something to attract his interest. Perhaps a stroll in his direction. You could inquire about the weather.”

Pearl groaned. “Absolutely not. He is already deep in conversation. It would not be polite to interrupt.”

“It’s always acceptable for a lady...oh, dear!” Her exclamation was accompanied by a tight grip on Pearl’s arm. “He’s walking away. You must do something, or you’ll lose him.”

“I am not chasing after a man.”

“If you won’t act, then I will.” She waved her fan briskly and exclaimed loudly, “The sun is too hot. I feel faint.”

“Stop this,” Pearl hissed.

Amanda clutched Pearl’s arm again. “It worked. He looked our way.” She raised her voice again. “I can’t seem to draw a breath.” She started to slump.

“If you faint, I’ll...I’ll...” Pearl couldn’t think of a thing she would do to the friend who’d grown up with her in the orphanage. They’d stayed close even after Amanda had been placed with a family, while Pearl stayed unclaimed. When Amanda’s fiancé jilted her, she turned to Pearl, who convinced her to answer the advertisement that would place Amanda in the very same town as Pearl’s schoolhouse. Now Amanda’s well-being fell on Pearl’s shoulders. But it did not give her friend license to play matchmaker.

“Mr. Decker might not like women who swoon,” Pearl pointed out.

“Mr. Decker? Mr. Garrett Decker?” A redhead in an emerald-green silk gown halted beside them. “I could not help but overhear, but I must warn you that that particular gentleman is already spoken for.”

“What?” Pearl and Amanda said at the same time.

After days on a cramped, hot train and spending all but a few of their coins on this last passage, Pearl’s plan for Amanda could not come to naught.

“It can’t be,” Amanda whispered, her complexion so pale that Pearl feared she was about to genuinely faint. “The advertisement is only two weeks old.”

Two weeks was plenty of time for a man to wed. However, this woman sailed on the same ship as them. If she was already married to him, why wasn’t she with her husband?

Pearl thrust back her shoulders, prepared to battle for her friend. “Then you are his wife?”

“Not yet.” The woman tossed her head, which was topped by a hat bursting with ribbon and feathers. “But I soon will be.”

Pearl could have kicked herself for never considering that other women might respond to the advertisement. “Have you corresponded with him?”

“There wasn’t an address to write him,” the redhead admitted, “but I intend to win his heart the moment we land in Singapore.” She assessed Pearl and finished with a tight smile.

Apparently she felt Pearl was no competition, which she wasn’t. Amanda, on the other hand, could surpass any woman in the virtues that counted most. Kind and gentle of spirit, Amanda was also skilled with the needle and an above average housekeeper. Her cooking might suffer from lack of instruction, but then what would a man living in such an outpost expect? Certainly not the finely dressed redhead standing before him, nor the mousy woman who poked her head into the small group.

“Are you talking about Mr. Decker?” the mouse squeaked. Her hands clutched a book so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Oh, dear. Not another. How many women aboard the Milwaukee were traveling to Singapore in answer to the same advertisement? At least three. Amanda had competition. Worse, the handsome gentleman had drawn closer and caught her gaze. Pearl swallowed the flutter in her stomach and tried to concentrate on the trouble at hand.

“How many could there be?” Amanda whispered, her voice shaking.

“It doesn’t matter if there are a hundred. Mr. Decker will choose the one who would make the best wife, and that is clearly—”

“A hundred!” Amanda paled. “There couldn’t possibly be a hundred.”

Why had Amanda seized on that small exaggeration?

“But I’ve placed all my hopes in him.” The mousy bookworm looked close to tears. “I hope he’s good and kind.”

Pearl felt Amanda tremble. Hugh Bellchamp had not been a kind man. Not only had he betrayed his engagement to Amanda, but he had also done so to elope with the daughter of the family that had taken in Amanda. His note, delivered the morning of the wedding, had spared no cruelty, citing her unknown parentage as the deciding factor. Amanda was not good enough to become a Bellchamp, not when the Chatsworth money was taken into account.

The redhead snorted. “I want a strong man, not some weakling who spends his time writing love poems.”

Pearl cringed, for Hugh had written Amanda dozens of poems during their courtship. She felt her friend sway. Amanda’s fan dropped from her hand and plopped into the water far below. “This is useless speculation, ladies. We won’t know the man’s character until we meet him.”

The ship turned just enough to cut off the breeze. The thick August air could make any woman perspire, but drops poured off Amanda’s forehead. Her ringlets looked damp beneath the small straw hat that afforded no shade whatsoever, and her color had paled even further. Since Pearl didn’t carry a fan, she tugged off her gloves and waved them in front of Amanda’s face.

“Perhaps we should find somewhere to sit.” She felt Amanda’s grip loosening.

“Oh, dear.” The bookworm’s eyes widened as she recognized the imminent danger. She looked left and right. “The only chairs are in the ladies’ lounge or upstairs.”

Too late. Amanda gasped ever so softly before slumping. Pearl reacted to her friend’s collapse, cradling her on the way down and taking the brunt of the impact. Her knees smacked against the wood deck, but Amanda landed without injury.

“Is she all right?” the mouse whispered.

The redhead pulled smelling salts from her bag and offered them to Pearl.

One whiff of the astringent contents sent Amanda into a coughing fit.

Pearl stroked the damp curls from Amanda’s face. “We need air, ladies, and some water would be nice.”

“I’ll fetch some.” The mousy woman hurried off.

That left the redhead. Pearl tried to hand back the smelling salts, but the woman’s attention was focused on something behind Pearl.

“Ladies.” A rich masculine voice rolled over Pearl’s head with the calming effect of a lapping wave. “Do you have need of a doctor?”

Without looking, she knew it was him. The hatless man. The man whose animated gestures had intrigued her. Her pulse raced. She didn’t dare look at him lest she lose her head. That would not help Amanda. So she kept her gaze focused on her friend and tried to ignore the girlish pounding of her heart.

The redhead seized the opportunity to extend a gloved hand. “We are most grateful for your assistance. This woman swooned.”

The man ignored her and peered at Amanda. “I can fetch a physician.”

“That’s not necessary,” Pearl said quickly. They could not afford the services of a doctor. “See, the color is already coming back to her cheeks.”

“She doesn’t have a fever?”

Pearl detected genuine concern in his question. “I think it was just the heat.” She left out the real cause. No gentleman wanted to hear that three women had cast themselves into the marriage market for the same man. “A glass of water is on its way.”

“You’re certain you don’t need a physician?”

Amanda managed to flutter her eyelids at him. “No, thank you, kind sir.”

That little flirtation stirred a most unwelcome feeling in Pearl’s heart. Amanda was her dearest friend. Pearl should be pleased that any man had pushed the memories of Hugh from Amanda’s mind, but why did it have to be this gentleman?

“I think it might be best to send for the doctor.” He lifted a hand to catch a porter’s attention.

“No!” Amanda shot to a sitting position.

“Opposed to physicians?” the man asked with a hint of amusement.

“Not at all,” Pearl replied. Neither of them had much money left after paying the costs of rail and ship travel from New York, even though the indirect route via Chicago proved least expensive. They would need every cent for room and board until Pearl began her new position. “Thank you for your consideration, but we will manage.”

Pearl began to stand, and he extended a hand to assist her. She hesitated, but at the redhead’s grunt of displeasure accepted his help. At his touch, a sensation like lightning shot from her hand to her shoulder. Her gaze locked on his. He lifted her like a fallen leaf. She didn’t feel her feet, couldn’t break the gaze, couldn’t think a single lucid thought.

He released her hand with a smile that took her breath away. Though dozens of passengers had boarded in Chicago, she had noticed him. Tall, dark-haired and elegant, he looked the picture of a gentleman. Now his manners proved him to be exactly that. No other man had come to their aid. Few even glanced in their direction. She became aware that she was staring again. It didn’t hurt that his blue eyes twinkled like the sapphires she’d once seen on display in a New York jeweler’s shop window.

After a final smile that dimpled his cheek, he turned to Amanda. “May I help you to your feet?”

“Of course,” she said breathlessly.

Pearl stared at her friend, whose gaze was riveted on this handsome gentleman.

He extended his hand. She put one gloved hand in his, and without the slightest effort he pulled her to her feet.

“Thank you,” Amanda gushed, gaze still fixed on him.

Pearl fought unconscionable waves of jealousy. Why should she care about Amanda’s interest in the gentleman? Amanda was the one who desperately wanted to marry. Pearl couldn’t, according to the contract she had signed. But his eyes... She struggled to draw a breath. Something about the man drew her like no other. Curiosity and intelligence and laughter danced in his eyes. He made her feel as if she had always known him, even though they’d just met.

He turned back to Pearl. “Are you well, miss?”

Pearl swallowed and found her throat dry and her voice missing. She settled for nodding.

“Can I have my salts back?” The redhead stuck out her hand.

Pearl dropped the vial into it.

The woman then turned a dazzling smile on the gentleman. “We’re fortunate that you were here, sir. I’m Miss O’Keefe, but you may call me Fiona.”

He bowed with the perfection of a diplomat. “Pleased to meet you, Miss O’Keefe. I am Mr. Decker.”

* * *

The three women stared at Roland with mouths agape. What on earth was wrong with them? The brunette had recovered sufficiently that he did not expect a repeat of the fainting spell, but they all looked as if he had just said the most shocking thing possible. Yet all he had done was introduce himself.

Behind Fiona O’Keefe a fourth woman squeaked and dropped a glass of water. The liquid splashed on Fiona’s skirts while the glass rolled over the edge and into the lake far below.

The redhead turned on a tiny mouse of a woman. “How could you be so clumsy? Do you know how much this dress cost?”

The startled young woman looked ready to burst into tears. “I’m sorry.”

Fiona O’Keefe relented, though she looked none too pleased. “I planned to wear it to dinner at the captain’s table. Now what will I wear?” She turned back to Roland. “I had hoped to make a fine impression.”

Roland stifled a groan. Clearly she intended to impress more than the captain. “I can assure you, that you cannot help but impress anyone you meet.”

That turned Fiona O’Keefe’s distress into triumph. “I hope to see you later, Mr. Decker.”

Her emphasis on his title perplexed him, as did the peculiar looks the other three women shot in his direction. The mousy woman hid behind the others as if afraid he would strike her. The brunette kept glancing between him and her friend with an almost wistful look. That friend, on the other hand, had rapidly moved from shock to confusion to disappointment. A moment later, she straightened her elegant neck, tossed back her loose chestnut locks and steeled her shoulders in much the same way Eva once had.

He choked back the bitter memory and turned his attention back to Fiona. “Perhaps we shall meet again.”

He would do his best to avoid her. Fiona O’Keefe had all the makings of a woman intent on capturing a husband, and marriage was the last thing Roland sought. Even if he was the marrying type, he certainly wouldn’t choose the fiery redhead. The no-nonsense lady who had stuck by her stricken friend was much more intriguing. From her unusual height to her lively green eyes, she was a woman worth knowing. Alas, he had no time for pleasantries, not with a potential investor at his elbow.

“Perhaps I might convince the captain to add you to our company,” Fiona O’Keefe suggested with a coy smile.

Roland wished he wasn’t already included at the captain’s table. With Miss O’Keefe present, he would not be able to conduct a moment’s business with Mr. Edward Holmes, the investor from Chicago that he was trying to interest in his plans for a glass factory. He chose his words with care. “I have been invited already.”

After warbling her delight, Fiona O’Keefe swept down the promenade deck and into the nearest door.

“I know it’s not the Christian thing to say, but that woman is insufferable,” the take-charge woman muttered.

Roland had to stifle a grin. He liked a woman who spoke her mind.

“Now, Pearl,” the brunette scolded with a touch to her friend’s arm. “She did help me.”

Pearl. Roland rolled the name around on his tongue. A pearl was a bit of sand that irritated an oyster long enough to become a gem. He had a feeling the name fit.

The brunette had settled her attention on him. “Thank you, Mr. Decker. Your assistance was most gallant.”

Her wide eyes and stunning dark curls would captivate most men. Perhaps they might interest his brother, who desperately needed a wife. Maybe he could convince Garrett to come aboard long enough to meet her when the ship stopped in Singapore. If the purser refused to let him board, Roland would bring the lady to Garrett. A simple dockside meeting might set ablaze the dried-out tinder of his brother’s heart.

He answered the brunette but couldn’t stop watching the lady named Pearl. “Thank you, miss, but any gentleman would do the same.”

None of the women pointed out that no one else had come to assist them.

Instead, the victim graciously accepted his response. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Decker. I am Miss Amanda Porter, and this is my friend, Miss Pearl Lawson.” She paused, apparently hoping he would give his Christian name, thus putting them on a level of intimacy that he did not care to initiate.

“Pleased to meet you, ladies.”

Amanda frowned. “Pearl is the new schoolteacher in Singapore, Michigan.”

“Is that so?” He had not imagined any of them would be getting off at Singapore. He looked at Pearl anew. Her take-charge, plainspoken demeanor might fare well in the rough-edged society of Singapore. “I wasn’t aware we needed a new teacher.”

“You clearly don’t have children, then,” Pearl stated.

“Uh, no.” His brother might have mentioned the need for a schoolteacher, but as a bachelor Roland had little interest in such matters.

“Pearl,” Amanda cautioned her friend before turning back to him. “I’m afraid the long journey from New York has wearied us. Pearl isn’t usually this forward.”

Roland suspected Miss Pearl Lawson was behaving exactly as she always did. Those thrust-back shoulders and strong chin indicated she took no nonsense from anyone. Rather refreshing. Usually women simpered around him. He’d endured cloying attention, batted eyelashes and every manner of feminine wile down to the feigned swoon. He didn’t know if Amanda Porter’s fainting spell had been genuine, but he doubted Pearl would ever stoop to that deceit. She seemed honest and straightforward, without one bit of artifice.

“I’m Louise Smythe,” a voice squeaked from behind the two women, drawing his attention from Pearl.

Roland had forgotten about the fourth woman. “Miss Smythe.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Mrs. Smythe, actually. But my husband was killed in the war.”

“My sympathies, ma’am. Most families lost someone. Two of my cousins never returned.”

She bowed her head, as if overcome.

Roland glanced back to see Holmes had joined them at some point. He made further introductions and then began to angle the investor toward the gentlemen’s lounge. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to. I hope to see you ladies later.”

“You will hardly be able to avoid Fiona,” Pearl noted, “since she will join you at dinner.”

“Ah, yes...dinner.” Why did she have to remind him of that now-onerous task?

He opened his mouth to say more, but Holmes interrupted with an even more unwelcome proposition. “Why don’t all of you join us?”

Roland couldn’t stifle this groan. Four women would hinder any attempt at striking a deal before they reached Singapore. “I doubt there would be enough room at the captain’s table.”

“I—I have other plans,” Louise Smythe spluttered, slipping into the background again.

Mr. Holmes accepted her regrets but not the protests of Pearl and Amanda. “I happen to know that there is ample room.”

Pearl’s expression had tightened, as if she dreaded the thought of dining with them, but Amanda clapped her hands with delight.

“The captain’s table! It will be wonderful, won’t it, Pearl?”

The no-nonsense woman looked like she was about to make an excuse, but after a pleading look from Amanda, she gave in. “We would be delighted.”

“It will be an excellent opportunity to get better acquainted,” Amanda said, again glancing between Pearl and him. “Won’t it?”

“We will have plenty of time to get acquainted once we all disembark in Singapore,” Pearl stated.

“All?” Roland didn’t miss that little word. “You’re all going to Singapore? Why? There’s nothing for women to do there. Except the school, of course.”

Now Pearl looked perplexed. “But you are expecting us.”

“What?” He backed up a step. “I’m not expecting anyone, least of all four women.”

Amanda looked like she would burst into tears. Louise Smythe bit her lip.

Only Pearl stood strong. “Then there has been a very grave mistake, Mr. Decker.”

Prickles ran up Roland’s spine. Whatever mistaken impression these ladies had come to believe, he wanted no part of it.

“Indeed there has.” He bowed stiffly. “Good afternoon, ladies. Mr. Holmes and I have business to attend to.”

Then, like a coward, he escaped to the safety of the gentlemen’s lounge to decipher what had just happened and figure out how he was going to get out of the mess.

* * *

The thought of dining with Mr. Decker knotted Pearl’s stomach. Gazing at him from afar had been pleasant. More than pleasant. Those brilliant blue eyes drew her in like no other man, but she’d let her fancy roam where it had no business going. Pearl Lawson was a schoolteacher, under contract to teach, not marry. Despite his peculiar behavior, Mr. Decker must want to marry at once. His advertisement had drawn three eligible women. Thus far. There could be many more already in Singapore. To give Amanda equal footing with Fiona, she’d agreed to her friend’s pleas to join him for dinner, but it would be difficult not to let her suddenly unruly emotions run wild.

She shouldn’t be concerned. Handsome men had never flocked to her side. Amanda was the pretty one, the one who drew men’s attention. Amanda desperately wanted to marry and have a family. She was the one who was responding to Mr. Decker’s advertisement. Pearl had no business thinking of Mr. Decker in any manner except as the object of Amanda’s affection. Still, it would be difficult to sit with the man at dinner and not let her thoughts roam into forbidden territory.

Provided they were even admitted into the dining saloon. Third-class tickets did not entitle them to meals, and they could not afford to purchase them. This invitation promised to turn into an embarrassing fiasco.

She worried her gloves while Amanda tidied up before dinner. Since they were already wearing their best gowns, they could not change, but a little brushing off of the dust and adjusting of the hair might make them more presentable.

“I wish I had a silk gown like Fiona’s.” Amanda sighed.

“Yours is infinitely prettier.”

Amanda blushed. “But it’s not silk, and it’s handmade.”

“By an expert seamstress.”

“You don’t think he knows I made it, do you?”

“I doubt his business is tailoring or dressmaking.” Pearl brushed at the wrinkles creasing her rust-colored skirt. “Besides, why would he look at your gown when your features are so much more pleasing?”

“Do you think so?” Even more color dotted Amanda’s cheeks. She turned back to the tiny mirror loaned to them by another third-class passenger. “I think he was more interested in you.”

A shock bolted through Pearl. Could a handsome, well-off man like Mr. Decker be attracted to a tall, ungainly woman like her? “Impossible. Moreover, I am not the one responding to his advertisement.”

Amanda bit her lower lip as a frown creased her brow. “Did you notice how he reacted when you pointed out that he must be expecting us?”

Pearl had to admit that she’d noticed. “Perhaps he didn’t understand.” Surely a man who advertised for a wife would expect someone to answer that advertisement. What if Mr. Decker turned out little better than Hugh Bellchamp, first luring women to Singapore and then dashing their hopes? “He must have misunderstood.”

“Perhaps.” But Amanda looked as skeptical as Pearl felt.

“We could send our regrets and dine on our cheese and biscuits as planned.”

“Oh, no. We must attend,” Amanda urged. “I couldn’t send regrets. Not now.”

Thus they found themselves approaching the doors of the dining saloon at precisely seven o’clock. Many passengers milled about waiting to be seated. Pearl hung back to look for Mr. Decker, but he found them first.

“Miss Lawson. Miss Porter.”

She couldn’t help noticing that he addressed her first and lingered longer over her hand. If Amanda noticed, she did not remark upon it. They then proceeded to discuss the day’s weather, the prognosis for that night and the usual inquiries into health and well-being.

At last the steward indicated he was ready to seat Mr. Decker’s party. Soon Pearl would find out if she and Amanda would be refused entry.