Page 1 of Mail-Order Bride Mommy
1
MONTANA, 1890
Gwen Humber again scanned the train platform of Crow Crossing, Montana where she expected to be greeted by her future husband—a man she’d never met.
Four cowboys crossed the planks, their heels thudding on the wood. But none of them looked in her direction. Nor did they match the mental picture she had of Matthew Shannon. They’d exchanged three letters and in one he’d described himself as being of medium height, medium build with brown hair and brown eyes. On second thought, two of the four might have fit that description but they showed no interest in her presence.
“Miss Humber, Miss Humber.”
Gwen turned toward the sound of her name. A trim, older woman in a navy dress and navy hat hurried toward her. Gwen’s hand tightened on her satchel. Her breath caught in her throat. Had this woman been sent to inform her that Matthew Shannon wasn’t coming? Had he already changed his mind and decided she wasn’t a suitable candidate for his requirements? She no longer had a home back east. Everything she owned accompanied her. Her funds would allow her a few nights in a boarding house and then what?
Limited funds. No home. The lump in her throat settled into her heart as she admitted her predicament. She had no choice but to stay in the West. Pushing her shoulders back and pulling in a deep, steadying breath, she faced the future. Even if her prospective groom had changed his mind, she’d find a way to make a life for herself in this wild, beautiful country. Though her determination proved unable to suggest a solution.
“Miss Humber?” The breathless woman reached her side. “I’m Mrs. Ingram, friend to Mrs. Strong.”
Gwen put on her best smile knowing it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I’m she.” Mrs. Ingram was the preacher’s wife whom Mrs. Strong worked with to help single young women find husbands in the west. No doubt she would offer assistance.
“Let’s get you home.” Mrs. Ingram signaled a porter and asked for Gwen’s trunks to be delivered. “To the parsonage.”
The parsonage? Further proof of her being rejected? She forced a breath into her struggling lungs and told herself to stay calm.
“Matt should have come himself, but he said he wished to have a chance to meet you in private.” Mrs. Ingram fluttered her hand as if her announcement was of no significance. “Now come along.”
A tiny doubt embedded in Gwen’s thoughts. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so eager to accept this escape from her life back East. Three letters from him did not provide much information. He was a rancher with three brothers and he needed a wife. She dismissed her uncertainty as quickly as it came. He waited at the parsonage which indicated he still seemed interested in marrying her. She relaxed as she followed the older woman.
A dog raced in front of them, almost tripping her. She dodged a boy who tore after the dog, kicking up dirt in his wake. A pebble stung Gwen’s face. She chuckled at the absurdity of her life at the moment. A mail-order-bride without a groom, in a strange town, following a woman she’d never met before.
Mrs. Ingram gave her a quizzical look. “You’ll do just fine if you can find the humor in things.”
“My mother would concur. In fact—” she lifted her hand dismissively, “never mind.” No need to share one of her dearest memories with a stranger.
The skin around the older woman’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “It’s perfectly acceptable if you don’t tell me everything. Matt’s the one you should confide in. You two will have much to talk about.”
Gwen readily agreed. Many times on the trip she’d imagined the two of them laughing together, revealing their deepest fears and dearest memories and finding sweet comfort as they learned about each other. Never mind that she’d agreed to a marriage in name only. Of course, for that to happen, she’d need to meet the man. She was about to ask when she could hope to do so when Mrs. Ingram stopped at a gate.
“This is us.” A tidy house stood in a pretty yard. Two huge trees sheltered the front door and early flowers bloomed with the promise of more to come. Past the house was a white church with a bell in its steeple.
Gwen paused to admire it. “I love hearing church bells ring.” She followed the woman into the house.
The preacher’s wife stepped aside to reveal a man who rose at their entrance.
Even without Mrs. Ingram’s introduction, she knew this was Matt Shannon. Her soon-to-be husband. Her heart rapped against her ribs like a trapped butterfly. She bit her bottom lip to still her reactions and took in a calming breath that failed its objective as her nerves continued to twitch.
Mrs. Ingram paused at the doorway. “You two need to discuss your plans.” She exited the room, softly closing the door behind her.
“I’m pleased to meet you in person,” he said, his voice steady as if he experienced none of the tension she did. Maybe she’d sucked every bit of it from the room to her insides which continued to do strange flip-flops.
She focused so she could assess him. The way he’d described himself had led her to believe he was so ordinary she couldn’t have picked him out in a crowd. To the contrary, she would have spotted his thick head of brown-like-chocolate hair across a room bursting with people. His brown eyes held her gaze in a steady look that caused her to think he was the sort of man she could count on. Relief sighed through her. “And I you.”
“Am I as you expected?” he asked.
His uncertain question settled her last trembling nerve. “You’re taller than you led me to believe.”
A grin gave his face a friendly, kind look. “Guess I’m used to my brothers teasing me about being the shortest of the bunch.”
“Am I as you expected?” She tried and failed to smile. She knew what she was. At twenty-three, considered an old maid by most. Plain according to many. Few saw how she tried to find the joy in everything, nor did they appreciate her loving ways. Except for her brother Maurice. Not that his appreciation had lasted.
“You’re younger looking than I expected and not at all plain.”
