Celia's Heart

  Celia’s Heart

  By Marianne Spitzer

  © June 2017

  This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the written consent of the author.

  Acknowledgements

  There are many people I would like to thank for their help and understanding while I wrote this book, but first and foremost, I want to thank God for all His blessings. I also wish to thank my family and friends for their patience and understanding when I disappear into my writing world especially my son, Lance, for his unwavering support.

  Celia’s Heart

  A Mail-Order Bride of Gentle Falls Short Story

  By Marianne Spitzer

  1880 Gentle Falls, Wisconsin

  Most of the residents of the small town of Gentle Falls stood on the train platform waving at the train. Celia Paddon found a seat near the middle of the train car, sat, and waved back. Brushing a few tears from her face, she said a small prayer thanking God for the love she had known in the town where she grew up and that she would find the same love in the Wyoming Territory. Celia never thought becoming a mail-order bride was an option until her friends Penelope, Sarah, and Molly helped convince her to look through Mrs. Brutherington’s Matrimonial Agency’s paper.

  Clint Hastings’ ad interested her, and they began corresponding. Now, she was on her journey to marry the cattle rancher. Celia glanced one more time out the train window as the small town of Gentle Falls disappeared from view. She sighed and leaned back in her seat before removing Clint’s last letter from her reticule.

  Dearest Celia,

  I believe that our previous correspondences have answered all the questions I have. I would be honored if you would come to Wyoming to be my wife. I have enclosed a train ticket and money for your travel needs and stage fare. I will meet your stage.

  Yours,

  Clint

  Celia smiled at the man’s kind words. She didn’t want to share her financial status with him until she was sure they would marry. She could have purchased her own ticket. As a matter of fact, she could ride free since her father invested considerably in the railroad. Those shares now belonged to her, and she did take advantage of her holdings to secure a private sleeping car on the train.

  Celia loved train travel and would travel to Chicago with her parents at least twice a year before they passed away. Now, she traveled alone, and the only part of her journey that worried her was the twenty-mile stagecoach ride. She heard stories about robberies by unfeeling highwaymen and Indians. Her friends tried to convince her that the Indian threat was over, but robberies could happen anywhere. She patted the gun she kept in the pocket sewn into her dress. She’d ordered it specially to fit in a skirt pocket and yet do what she needed, if necessary. She might not stop a group of evil men from doing what they wanted, but she was sure she could stop at least one of them.

  Wyoming Territory

  The train trip had been comfortable compared to the ride to Elmerville in the stagecoach. Celia felt squashed between an elderly woman, Mrs. Drake, who spoke non-stop about the wonderful life on a ranch and the woman’s sister who argued down every good point Mrs. Drake made. Across from her sat two men. One was in need of a bath and should give up drinking especially while in the company of ladies on a stagecoach and the other kept staring at Celia as if she were the daily special at Callahan’s Restaurant back home. Twenty miles had never felt longer to Celia, and she wished she’d rented a horse and followed the stage. Finally, when Celia wasn’t sure she could take another argument between the sisters, the driver pulled the coach to a stop and called out “Elmerville.”

  “My stop,” Celia whispered to herself.

  “Well, my dear,” Mrs. Drake said. “We’re going on to the next stop, but we come past here on occasion. We’d love to see you. What is the name of your betrothed? We can look for you.”

  Not wishing to be rude, Celia answered, “His name is Clint Hastings. I’d love for you to visit me.”

  Mrs. Drake drew in a deep breath and smiled broadly, her sister exclaimed that life was full of surprises, the foul-smelling man nearly dropped his bottle, and the rogue looked everywhere but at her.

  What did I say, Celia wondered and climbed out of the coach when the driver offered his hand.

  Mrs. Drake hugged her and said, “We have time for some supper before we leave again, so I will say my goodbyes now. I believe that is your young man standing over there.” She motioned with her head and hurried to follow her sister.

  Celia looked up and saw the most handsome man she’d ever seen staring back at her. He was tall, at least six feet, and was dressed in a black suit and held a Stetson in his hands. This couldn’t be Clint? Even with his tanned and serious face, he looked ten years younger than the thirty-five Clint admitted. Celia felt old now even at twenty-nine if this man was truly younger than her. As he drew close, she could see the smaller lines on his face and decided it could be her Clint. Her Clint. What a lovely thought. Now if he only liked her and didn’t send her away.

  “Celia? I mean Miss Paddon?”

  “Yes, I’m Celia,” she tried to speak, but her words came out in a whisper.

  He took a step closer and said, “I’m Clint Hastings. I’m glad you came. I have booked a room for you at the hotel. Do you have a trunk?” He looked at the trunk the stage driver unloaded onto the platform.

  “Um, yes, I have one here. I couldn’t bring the rest. The driver said they wouldn’t fit.”

  “Where are they?”

  “I hired a wagon and driver to bring the other two trunks and four crates. He said he’d be here by sundown tomorrow.”

  Clint laughed out loud. “Three trunks and four crates? Did you bring everything you own?”

  “Absolutely not,” Celia answered feeling defensive. “The rest of my things are crated and still in my house in Gentle Falls. I’ll send for them when I’m settled. I only brought what I felt was necessary to start a home here.”

  “Well then, I’ll leave word to have the crates brought out to the ranch and the trunks delivered to your hotel room.” He held out his arm and smiled. “Would you like to join me for supper?”

  “Thank you; I would.”

  Clint led the way to the hotel, and Celia wondered if his smile was due to happiness or masking anger that she brought too many things with her.

  When they settled at their table, Clint ordered coffee and Celia ordered tea to warm up a bit before they placed their supper order. It was early December and Celia expected to see more snow. She sipped her tea and waited for Clint to speak.

  When he finally spoke, he suggested they both ordered steak. “You won’t find better steaks anywhere. They may have come from my ranch.”

  Celia smiled. “That sounds wonderful, thank you for suggesting what to order.”

  Clint nodded and placed their order. Celia watched him and decided to bring up her belongings. “I’m sorry if what I brought along is too much. Some items belonged to my mother and grandmother that I couldn’t part with. I hoped you wouldn’t mind. If there isn’t any room in your home, I would be happy to store them in the corner of the barn, or I could have a small storage structure built to store them.” She sipped her tea again waiting for his answer.

  His smile broke out across his face, and his eyes brightened. “Celia, you don’t need to build a storage building or hide your precious things in the barn. My home is large enough for anything you brought along. I have many of my mother’s and grandmother’s things in the house. We can combine everything and leave them to our chil
dren someday.”

  Celia’s cheeks burned crimson at the thought of children with this handsome man. She’d be his wife soon, and children were usually a product of marriage, but she hadn’t given a lot of thought to what occurred between the wedding and childbirth.

  “Thank you,” she murmured while studying her tea cup.

  “Tomorrow I’ll come by early to enjoy breakfast with you and take you to the ranch. You’ll meet my Pa and see that the house will have room enough for anything you want to bring. What did you bring?”

  “I brought my grandmother’s dishes. She left them to my mother and mother left them to me. I hoped to leave them to a daughter someday. There are pictures of my parents and some decorative items that have been in my family for as long as I can remember. I left the paintings and rugs behind,” she smiled at him.

  He smiled back, “If you want them, I’ll arrange to have them shipped. Whatever you want or need, just ask, my dear.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw sincerity along with something more. Need? Longing? Love? Certainly, it was too early for love, but she began to fall in love with Clint when she read his letters. Perhaps he felt the same.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. Tell me about your father. Is he happy you sent away for a bride?”

  “He’s excited. I’m his only child, and he and my mother always wanted more, but God gives us what He thinks we need. Pa told me he is looking forward to having a daughter.”

  “How kind,” Celia smiled. “I look forward to meeting him. Tell me about your ranch. I assume it’s different than the farms we have back in Gentle Falls.”

  “I think there are differences, but many similarities. Caring for animals is the same wherever you live.”

  “I suppose. Do you have a lot of cows?”

  Clint laughed and said, “My dear, here we call them cattle and yes, I have a large number. My father and his brothers came here together to settle. They each had adjoining ranches. One of my uncles died the first winter from a fever. It was before I was born. My father and Uncle William took over the ranch and worked it together. When I was ten, my uncle died during a cattle drive. Uncle William never married. He left his share of the land to my father, and I’ve worked it with him since that day.”

  “I see,” Celia answered. “I lost my father when I was still in nursing school. I quit to return home to be with my mother. She took ill shortly after and I cared for her until she passed five years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. Your knowledge of nursing will help you on the ranch. We have a doctor in town, but quite often the injuries are not severe, and the men try to doctor themselves. If you’re willing, you could oversee them to be sure they don’t kill each other.”

  Celia laughed, “I’d be happy to assist them in any way I’m able.”

  The waiter brought their dinners, and they ate in companionable silence. When they finished, and the waiter brought their pie, Celia asked quietly. “May I ask about your mother?”

  Clint smiled, “Certainly. She was a wonderful woman. The perfect rancher’s wife. She could do nearly everything my father could except she wasn’t quite as strong. She fell and broke her leg quite badly ten years ago. An infection set in and we lost her within days.”

  “I’m terribly sorry. Losing loved ones is hard. I’m an only child, too and when I lost my mother, I didn’t have any family left.”

  Clint reached for her hand. “That’s all about to change. The holidays are coming. We’ll celebrate them together as a family. If you’re willing and don’t hate me by Christmas Eve, I’d like us to be married that night. There’s a play and service at the church. We could be married right after.”

  “I doubt I could learn to hate you ever and Christmas Eve sounds like a beautiful day to wed.” Celia blushed and looked down at his hand holding hers.

  A blonde woman near Celia’s age sat at the next table eavesdropping. She scowled when she heard Clint mention marriage to the black-haired beauty at his table. That marriage would never take place if she had anything to do with it. Emily Walton loved Clint Hastings, and she decided he would be hers.

  When Clint and Celia finished their pie, Celia yawned. “I’m sorry. I must be more tired than I thought. The stage ride was exciting but tiring.”

  Clint stood and pulled out Celia’s chair. He took her hand and walked her to the stairs. “You get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.”

  “Good night,” Celia said and walked up the stairs happy there was a comfortable bed waiting for her.

  Clint was waiting for Celia when she walked down the hotel stairs the following morning. His heart stuttered in his chest when he saw her make her way down the staircase in a blue dress that brought out the shimmer in her black hair. She was breathtaking and he couldn’t help but smile at his good fortune. His smile warmed her and made her feel less lonely for her friends back home. Home. This was home now, wasn’t it? She returned his smile and took his hand when he held his out to her.

  “Good morning, my dear. Did you rest well?”

  “Yes, I did, thank you. After the train and the stage coach, it was lovely to rest without being jostled.”

  “I understand. It will be better once the train line adds a spur through town or close by. It will be good for moving the cattle, too.”

  Celia nodded not exactly understanding what was involved with moving Clint’s cattle but she knew she’d learn soon.

  After doing her best to finish the hearty breakfast the hotel served, she excused herself to retrieve her coat from her room and took the opportunity to take care of personal business. She didn’t know what type of accommodations awaited her at Clint’s home. He did call his home a house and not a cabin. Celia hoped it was more than a one room cabin. She still worried about all her crated items. Although he did assure her that he had ample room for her things along with his mother’s things, Celia wondered how many items he had. Perhaps his mother only had a vase or a few bowls that had been saved. She’d soon see what type of home she would live in she thought as she hurried back downstairs.

  Clint and Celia shared childhood memories and likes and dislikes on what he said was the thirty-minute ride to his home. After what Celia thought was only twenty minutes, Clint pulled the horses reins and stopped his carriage.

  “The Triple H is just beyond the hill. When we reach the crest of the hill, you’ll see the house and all the land to the west and north is part of the ranch. My father named the ranch the Triple H in memory of his brothers and so that people will remember that three Hastings brothers started the endeavor.”

  Celia smiled, “That’s a nice way to remember the family.” She leaned forward to see better expecting to see a small house and fences holding the animals the way the farms back home did. Her eyes flew open wide when Clint crested the hill. Celia had grown up in the largest house in Gentle Falls, but it didn’t compare with what graced the land before her.

  Clint looked at her when he heard her intake of breath. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, when you said house I thought you meant a large cabin or a small farmhouse. I never assumed…”

  “My father built the house the summer he found out my mother was expecting. They planned on a large family, but I’m their only child. My parent’s room, a nursery, and six additional bedrooms are on the second floor. When my father became too weak to climb the stairs, we turned my mother’s sewing room into a room for him on the first floor. There’s also a parlor, dining room, kitchen, library, and cook’s quarters on the first floor.”

  “A library, do you have many books?” Celia’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Yes, my mother loved to read and my father would order them by the crateful from back East. We use the room as an office, but you are always welcome to use the room for reading or just to look for a book. The house is yours, too. I want you to feel welcome.” He took her hand and when he ki
ssed the back of it, she felt the warmth travel through her glove.

  Celia marveled at the lovely home as Clint stopped the carriage in front of the house. A young man rushed up to care for the horses. “Welcome home, Clint. Your Pa’s in the house. He spent quite a while out by the corral watching the horses. I believe he’s overly tired.”

  “Thanks, Jim,” he answered and handed the reins to the young man before he helped Celia down from the carriage.

  Clint took her hand and said, “I hope Pa’s awake. I know he wanted to meet you.”

  “I look forward to meeting him, too.” Celia smiled and let Clint lead her up the porch steps.

  The door flew open and an older woman whose gray hair fell from the bun at the back of her head and her eyes opened wide exclaimed, “I’m glad you’re home Mr. Clint. Your father refuses to take his medicine or rest. He insisted on eating fried potatoes with his lunch and refused the fresh vegetables I made for him.”

  Clint bit back a smile. He whispered to Celia, “my father is a stubborn man.”

  He looked back at the flustered woman and said, “Thank you, Mrs. McGuiness, I’ll speak to him.”

  She nodded and held the door open for Clint and Celia. When Celia heard the door close, the woman asked for her coat and hat. Clint interrupted to introduce her to his cook and housekeeper.

  “Mrs. McGuiness, this is Miss Celia Paddon, my betrothed. Celia, this is Mrs. McGuiness. She has been with our family since I was a boy and does her best to cook, clean, and look after Pa.”

  Mrs. McGuiness laughed, “Don’t make me sound that old, Mr. Clint. You should explain I was a child when my mother began working for your family. How do you do, Miss Paddon.”

  Celia smiled at their interaction and held out her hand, “Pleased to meet you and please call me Celia.”

  “Very well, Miss Celia. I’ll make tea,” Mrs. McGuiness turned and hurried away with just a swish of her skirts and quiet footsteps.