She drew in a quick breath when she read the last line, and hadn’t noticed it before. At least she didn’t remember anyone talking about it.
A female with musical training or interest would be especially welcome.
She stood and walked to the window, listening to the last of her sisters’ songs for the evening and a smile began to play on her lips.
“I am everything he asked after,” she said, again aloud as she looked at herself in the mirror. She regarded herself carefully, deciding that she also qualified for the “pretty enough” requirement.
With a laugh, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a quill and paper. She tapped her chin as she stared at the blank page, wondering what she should write to her future husband, and after a while, her pen took over and she just wrote.
Shaking the soreness from her hand, she put the pen back in the inkwell and blew on the paper to dry the ink. She smiled with satisfaction as she folded it into an envelope and wrote, “Mr. Samuel Allen, Tombstone, Arizona,” on the outside, and blew on that until it was dry as well.
As she set it up against the mirror on the vanity, she changed into her nightdress. Her heart aflutter, she took one last look at the envelope before she got into bed, wondering what he would think—what they would all think—when they received her request. Although she’d written that she resided in Tombstone, she’d been careful to choose a name that they would not connect with her.
As she drifted off to sleep, she realized that she had no idea how she’d explain this to her father or, for that matter, explain to Samuel when she arrived as his new bride. She just knew he would choose her, and her last thought was that she’d figure out the next part of her plan in the morning.
Chapter 6
With each passing day, Meg grew more nervous about the letter she’d sent to Sam, offering to be his mail order bride. She hadn’t heard anyone mention a thing, and she knew that Clara hadn’t been out to see Sadie and Suzanne. She was beginning to wonder if it had even gotten to him—maybe lost in the mail. If it had been lost, a letter from Tombstone to Tombstone, there was no hope.
She’d already been out to milk the cows and carefully placed the eggs Rosemary had gathered into the carriers to take into town. Her job, beyond milking the cows, was to take the extra milk, eggs and produce into town to sell, and for simplicity, she’d chosen to stick primarily with one, James and Suzanne’s mercantile. Over the course of the past year, Archer Ranch had become their best supplier, and she was happy with their arrangement, as was her father.
“You’re awfully quiet these days,” Maria said from behind her, startling her, and she groaned as the egg she’d held slid from her hand and splattered on the table.
“Maria, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Meg said to the longtime housekeeper who had also served as her and her sisters’ surrogate mother after their own had died several years ago.
Maria raised her eyebrows as she circled around in front of Meg and sat down at the table, resting her chin in her hand. “Quiet, and jumpy, too,” she said slowly as she narrowed her eyes at Meg. “What’s going on with you, mi hija?
Meg wiped her hands on her apron and looked up at Maria, unable to keep the smile from her lips as her heart skipped a beat. She’d always loved it when Maria used that phrase, my daughter in Spanish, but it wasn’t about to make her tell Maria that she’d offered to be Sam Allen’s wife.
“You’re imagining things. Nothing’s going on. I’m fine.” She hurriedly placed the remainder of the eggs in the carriers and set them in the basket, doing her best to avoid Maria’s steady gaze.
Maria cleared her throat and stood, helping Meg with the baskets as she headed toward the door. “I don’t believe you, but you know I am here whenever it’s time to talk about it.” She placed her hand on Meg’s shoulder.
Meg turned around, grateful for Maria’s kind eyes and slight smile. “Thank you, Maria, but there really isn’t anything to tell you. Nothing exciting happens in my life at all. Ever.”
“Now, Meg, that’s not true…well, maybe it’s a little true. I did hear your father say that he was not ready for you to make yourself available for suitors. I plan to educate him about young ladies and their need to find love, just like he did. You know he’s a little slow to understand these things,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she laughed.
Meg sighed and squeezed Maria’s hand before she walked out the door. “Thank you, Maria. I can use any help I can get,” Meg called over her shoulder as she carefully placed her wares in the buggy, hopped in and set off down the drive toward town.