Samantha had not been a particularly fussy baby and remained of sunny disposition in most instances. She was delighted with Mrs. Richardson, who reminded her of her grandmother. “Gamma!” she declared.
Celeste had given an abbreviated explanation of why she had arrived on her sister's ticket, child in hand, electing not to share more details of the letter writing confusion, as that was really something her sister would need to work out. She only hoped Miranda was on her way. It all sounded a bit havey-cavey to Mrs. Richardson, but for that precious little bundle, she was willing to overlook a few irregularities.
“But the most important thing is that there will be no wedding today! I am not the intended bride and have no intention of defrauding my own sister of her nuptials!”
“I can quite see that it would be most inappropriate to carry on with the ceremony when you are not even the woman listed in the register,” agreed Mrs. Richardson. “You say your intention is to look for work in town?”
“That’s right. I’m a hard worker and have learned a number of skills over the years. Surely one of them would be useful to someone else. I’m sure I could help in a store, for instance. I am good with keeping books and counting money. And although I admit I would have much to learn about housekeeping, I think I’d be good with childcare,” mused Celeste as she finished cleaning and redressing Samantha.
“If you could show me where I can empty this diaper and wash it, I would be most grateful, as I’m sure would be both our noses!”
Mrs. Richardson laughed. She rather liked this spunky woman despite her odd tale. Surely the mother of a sweetheart like Samantha couldn’t have evil intentions. She clearly was not trying to take advantage; even though she admitted to the theft of the ticket, she had offered to reimburse Chip for its value as soon as she had a job, and seemed sincere in her desire to obtain one.
Attending to the final details of Samantha’s toilette, and cleaning up, the women adjourned to the kitchen where Mrs. Richardson handed Celeste the erstwhile requested water, and then offered to make some tea. Not wishing to abuse her hospitality, Celeste tried to decline, but the lighting up of her eyes at the initial offer had Mrs. Richardson putting the kettle on to boil.
It was soon evident that no further information would be forthcoming from Celeste. She was amazingly tightlipped about any tale not her own, and rather reticent about herself, although Mrs. Richardson sensed a frailty or hurting in the occasional sadness and wistfulness that scampered across her face as the ladies socialized.
Samantha had dropped off to sleep in her mother’s arms and was tucked into the buggy back in the bedroom. Concerned that her daughter might awaken and be disoriented, Celeste was assured the door would remain open so any sounds would be heard across the small courtyard between the house and church. And a tin pan and wooden spoon were left at the threshold. Celeste agreed Samantha would be unlikely to resist banging the two together should she awaken.
“But why don’t we just wheel her closer, perhaps into the hall where our voices won’t disturb her but we could hear her?” The pan and spoon were put into the carriage as an extra measure and they walked across the yard to join the men. Dropping a kiss on her sleeping daughter’s brow, Celeste followed Mrs. Richardson into her husband’s office.
CHAPTER 4 – SylvesterExplanations
“Why on earth did you tell her?” demanded Sylvester.
“You couldn’t possibly expect me to begin my marriage with a lie. Besides, I was never more than half sold on this notion anyway,” retorted Chip.
“So, let me get this straight,” interposes Pastor Joe. “Sylvester wanted you, Chip, to get married, and he set about finding you a mail-order bride. He even wrote the letters for you.”
Chip nodded.
“And how did you feel about that?”
“Well, to be honest, I had mixed emotions. Part of me has always wanted to find a wife and have a family. But, not to disparage the local ladies, those I would have, wouldn’t have me, and those that wanted me, I didn’t want.” He grinned unrepentantly. “I imagine good discrimination was shown on both sides of that fence.”
Sylvester rolled his eyes, but the pastor laughed appreciatively.
“Well before you offered to marry her and sent her a ticket to get here, had you at least formed some sort of attachment based on the letters, even if your brother helped write them?”
Chip snorted, then had the grace to look apologetically at the pastor, avoiding his brother’s gaze entirely.
“That’s the whole thing. I didn’t write the letters. I didn’t help write the letters. I didn’t even read the letters, hers or mine. And I never offered to marry her nor sent a ticket. Sylvester handled all of that.” And now he did turn to stare at his brother. “And from the things he said about her, I got the definite impression he had formed a tendre for the lady with whom he was corresponding.”
Sylvester colored a bit and proffered a sheepish grin. “I must admit I thought she was particularly intelligent and that it would be a pleasure to visit my new sister-in-law for conversation.”
Chip barely managed to restrain his snort this time, but it was his turn to roll his eyes.
“When Sylvester got so up in the boughs about her, I
