Rose, I’d be pleased to hear from you.
Yours truly,
Holden McGowan
Hilda stared at the signature at the bottom of the letter, satisfied that it looked very much like Holden’s bold handwriting.
Holden was a good man who worked hard. Despite his success, he’d taken no time to move out of that shack he’d built behind the livery. He rarely had a proper meal and he’d grown too thin.
The truth was the man simply needed a wife, even if he wasn’t smart enough to see that.
So, she’d taken matters into her own hands. She’d placed an ad in the San Francisco Morning Chronicle.
Hilda tapped her finger on the assortment of letters on her desk. She’d received three dozen letters from women interested in marrying Holden, but none had stood out like Rose O’Neil.
Yes, sir. Rose O’Neil and Holden would make a fine couple.
A fine couple indeed.