“But I have to say, even after all that, I am quite content to wed the young lady who used the ticket. Mrs. Clark tickles my fancy and I’m already head over heels for her daughter.”
Sylvester’s jaw dropped. He’d never seen his brother have anything to do with a child. And although, in the manner of men, the two of them had assessed the charms of most of the females around—come to think on it, they really did have rather different preferences! Where was that thought going? Oh, yes! Chip had never complimented a woman with children. It was as if he were now another species. Although, if pushed, Sylvester himself would be hard pressed to describe most of the wives and mothers in town beyond the simplest of terms.
He looked at his brother with a new attitude. Was that respect? He had always taken Chip for granted—he was the baby brother. Who knew he had . . . feelings!
“Yes, but that’s neither here nor there,” he spluttered, shaking his head. “She’s here under false pretenses. She came as an imposter.”
“Well, no, there you are wrong,” Chip winked, “again. She immediately told me who she was and why she had come in her sister’s stead. No, not in her stead, but in advance of Miranda, who should arrive shortly. She did so to protect her daughter.”
“And you believe that?” Sylvester half sneered.
“Actually, I do. Mrs. Clark is fiercely protective of her daughter and obviously dotes upon her. And her manner is direct and straightforward,” even if she won’t tell me her name, he mumbled to himself. “And I must admit I am thoroughly smitten.”
Chip shook his head. “Frankly, Sylvester, since you are clearly besotted with Miranda Belden, it would seem to me logical you should marry her. You did, after all, propose.”
“I merely wrote down what you wanted!”
Chip expelled a bark of laughter. “No, you wrote down what you wanted. After the first one or two exchanges, I never saw a single line. Not the ones you wrote nor her responses. But it is increasingly clear to me that you are the one in love and you were writing from your own heart. And, my dear Sylvester, I am very glad for it. And if I can convince her to have me, I fully intend to marry Mrs. Clark, even if her first name is something dreadful.”
He turned back to the pastor. “Will you conduct the ceremony, Reverend?”
Joe Richardson shook his head. This was a bit more complex a situation than he’d run into before. But the basic concept he and Father Francis Flanagan of St. Mary’s on the Hill, the town’s Catholic church, had devised years ago for working with Mail-Order Brides still held sway. Regardless of circumstances, no marriages would be performed without the full consent and understanding of both parties.
He surveyed Chip thoughtfully.
“I see I have been remiss in my pastoral duties and not discussed your hopes and desires in this matter. I’ve known both you boys since you were children and despite your differences you have always been very close and looked out for each other’s interest. So when Sylvester approached me, enthusiastic about you finding a bride, I accepted that he was accurately portraying your sentiments in the matter.
“But regardless, I always offer counsel to the bride-to-be, ascertaining her hopes, dreams, goals, and desires, to ensure I am following God’s will in performing a binding ceremony.”
Counseling the Bride
Hearing a light tap on his open door, Pastor Joe turned his head to see his wife and Mrs. Clark in the entry.
“Oh, do come in my dears!” he welcomed them directing them to the settee alongside his desk. “Mrs. Clark, it has long been my custom to interview all arriving brides to ensure, to the extent I can, the happiness of both parties. I usually conduct those meetings in private, and if, at any time, you wish to talk with me one on one, please do not hesitate to say so. And, before matters are concluded in any manner, we will, in fact, have that private conversation. But it seems there is much to discuss here first that concerns all parties.”
Celeste beamed at the pastor, including his wife in her smile.
“You have both been amazingly hospitable considering the unusual circumstances with which you have been presented! My heartfelt thanks to each of you!
“As I am sure has been made clear by now, I am not Mr. Hardwick’s intended. My sister Miranda contracted with him in good faith to become his wife, and I know she was looking forward to journeying west and doing so. That she was not at home when the letter arrived was less than providential, as I would much rather have traveled with her than ahead of her, but circumstances were such that I felt it incumbent upon me to depart immediately, for the safety of my daughter.”
The image of a mother bear defending her cub flitted across several minds as they beheld the expression Celeste’s face.
“I expect fully to hear from my sister shortly that she is following in my footsteps and will arrive soon.”
Reverend Joe looked at his wife and then at the three young people.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in my mind this conversation has the gravity and privacy of a pastoral counseling session. Nothing I learn here today will ever, without express consent, be mentioned by me in the presence of anyone else.
“My wife, as my helpmeet, has long sworn the same fealty to the sanctity of such sessions,
