Sarah's Heart Page 3

“All right, Celia. I’m listening.”

  Celia Paddon stopped walking and turned to look at Sarah. “I’m going to be thirty years old in the spring. Henrietta told me I should plan on being a spinster. My parents left me a house and enough money to live on, but I don’t want to end up a spinster. Do you think I’m too old to become a mail-order bride? I know you did it. I don’t know anyone else to ask except for Nell Callahan.” She dropped her head.

  Sarah grabbed her hands in hers. “Celia, I don’t believe you’re too old. I think you’d make the perfect mail-order bride unless you find someone here in town.”

  Celia’s head shook back and forth. “No, it would be too embarrassing with Henrietta and Eloise Mudd making fun of me. I’d like to go somewhere else, but I don’t know what to do. Look at me.”

  “You have a lovely face, and you’re tall and slender. We could soften your hairstyle a bit and make you a new wardrobe. I have several beautiful patterns and ordered a lot of new fabrics. I could bring the name of the matchmaker in Chicago to the shop tomorrow. If you stop in and get it, you could send off a letter. I’m sure she could find you a match,” Sarah answered enthusiastically.

  “All right, I’ll stop by in the morning when Joseph delivers the furniture. You’ll keep my secret, won’t you,” Celia pleaded.

  “Of course,” Sarah answered linking their arms again and led Celia toward Main Street.

  Chapter 3

  Sarah woke and stretched. The sun streaming in the bedroom window made her smile, and the clouds appeared to have disappeared overnight making it a sunny day for the start of her new life. She smelled bacon frying and heard loud whispering coming from Nell’s kitchen. While the rain had stopped the previous evening, the roads were muddy. Sarah didn’t trust her skills as a horsewoman to traverse the way back to Miranda and Roy’s and accepted Nell’s invitation to spend the night. Sarah dressed hurriedly and walked quietly to Nell’s washroom grateful that Cal installed the indoor plumbing. It was something she would do soon in her own apartment. Early morning visits to the privy were one thing she would never miss about Harold’s ranch.

  Sarah slipped back into her room and slid her feet into her boots. It was time for breakfast and to ask Nell a favor and tell a tiny lie. It was for a good reason, but a lie was a lie, and she asked God to forgive her, but if she were honest, she would break a trust. Wasn’t that also a sin? She swallowed, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  “Good morning,” Sarah greeted her hosts as she breezed into the kitchen of the living area. “It’s a beautiful day, and soon I’ll start each one in my own home.” She wrapped her arm around Nell and hugged her.

  Cal smiled and returned her greeting while he turned the bacon.

  Nell asked, “Did you sleep well? It’s a new bed. You’re our first overnight visitor.” She placed plates on the table and looked at Sarah when she didn’t answer. “Was it a bad sleep?”

  “Oh, no, sorry I was thinking. Did you buy the mattress from Mr. Masters? I need two, and he says I can have the last two he has in stock. I hope they are as comfortable.”

  “You can ask him, but we didn’t order it. He had a few in the backroom when Cal purchased them,” she answered and leaned closer and whispered. “Mr. Masters said he could order one of those new mattresses without the cotton and wool. Remember Mrs. Carsters had to have one and it squeaked every time she rolled over.”

  Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth at the memory as she stifled a giggle. “Yes, the poor woman never figured out why she didn’t get a good night’s sleep, and no one had the courage to tell her she made a mistake and the noises woke her up. I’ll stick to cotton and wool.”

  Nell nodded, and Cal set a plate of bacon and hotcakes on the table. “Thanks, dear, they look good. It’s wonderful to have a husband who loves to cook.”

  “Yes,” Cal responded and kissed Nell on the top of her head. “And it’s wonderful to have a wife who loves to bake bread, biscuits, pies, and cakes.”

  Sarah took a bite of bacon and commented, “You two are perfect for each other. This is good and much better than Onion Gruel.”

  Nell’s nose scrunched up, she hesitated, and then asked, “What in the world is Onion Gruel.”

  Cal laughed, “You really did grow up in a big city.”

  “I did, too,” Sarah retorted. “I never heard of it until I married Harold. It's good if it’s made right. Harold preferred it for dinner rather than breakfast, so he taught me to use chicken broth instead of water. I simmered the chicken and a lot of onions. Then I added enough corn meal to thicken it like oatmeal. You can add other things, but Harold had a bumper crop of onions and told me to make it at least four evenings a week. After the first week, he decided I didn’t work hard enough to eat meat. He had me remove the chicken before I served it. He ate the chicken along with a bowl of the Onion Gruel. I only ate the gruel. Then he said to use less cornmeal because it would save money. Without as much corn meal, I often felt hungry.” Sarah lowered her head to hide the shame of her marital mistake and took a small bite of hotcakes.

  Nell grabbed her hand, “You poor dear. Now I understand why you were so thin when you arrived. That man tried to starve you.”

  Sarah looked up with a twinkle in her eye. “I would have been thinner, but I found a way to trick Harold. I know it’s wrong to deceive your husband, but I was hungry. I would choose the largest chicken to make the gruel.”

  Nell gasped, “You killed chickens?”

  “Of course, how else could I cook them,” Sarah replied.

  Cal roared with laughter. “I can’t believe you two are best friends. We own a restaurant and Nell still won’t kill a chicken. When she cooked for Miranda either Adam or Roy needed to kill a chicken for her. Miranda refuses to kill them, too.”

  Sarah bit her lip to keep from joining Cal in laughter. “Honestly, Nell, you’ve never killed a chicken?”

  Nell shook her head back and forth and ate a forkful of hotcake refusing to say a word.

  Sarah continued, “When I removed the chicken for Harold, I ate some of it and left enough to look as if I killed a smaller chicken. I also began making extra biscuits and bread to eat during the day. I survived all right, but I’m blessed to be here now.” She smiled gratefully at her friends.

  “We’re blessed to have you here,” Nell insisted. “It’s good to know an extra person who can kill a chicken if I ever need one.”

  Everyone laughed, and Sarah thought about what she needed to ask Nell. She hoped her little lie didn’t show, but Nell wondered why she looked troubled.

  “I’m not troubled. I want to send a letter to Mrs. Brutherington and let her know about my shop. I left the address at Miranda’s. I remember the street but not the number.”

  There she said it out loud. Her little lie but she kept Celia’s confidence. She needed to let Mrs. Brutherington know about her business that was true. The poor woman blamed herself for sending Sarah to Kansas, but she also needs to let her know about Celia’s letter and how emotionally fragile the woman was. Losing her parents so close together, having Henrietta Biggs as one of her closest friends, and labeled a spinster didn’t do much to build the woman’s courage.

  Nell popped out of her chair and disappeared down the hall returning almost immediately with a letter in her hand. “I have it. She wrote me after Cal and I married. The number is 324.”

  “Wonderful, thank you.”

  Cal wiped his face and stood, “Off to work. I need to start today’s meals. I’ll see you in a bit Nell.” Sarah studied her plate while Cal kissed his wife with passion.

  Nell giggled and pushed him to the door. “Go, I’ll be down as soon as I clean up here.”

  Sarah insisted, “Let me do the dishes. If you have paper and an envelope I could write my letter here after I clean up and mail it before I meet Joseph at my shop for the furniture delivery. I also need to see Mr. Masters about the mattresses.”

  “All right, I’ll head downstairs. Come back for lunch. I th
ink Cal’s frying chicken today. I have paper, ink, and envelopes in the desk.” She waved and hurried out the door.

  Sarah made quick work of the dishes, wrote a long letter to Mrs. Brutherington, then sealed it and headed downstairs. She waved at Nell and Cal as she hurried to the mercantile to speak with Mr. Masters.

  ~ * ~

  Sarah left Masters’ Mercantile smiling about the purchases she made and saw Celia waiting outside her shop. She waved and hurried across the street. She was out of breath by the time she reached her shop and her new friend.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” Sarah panted catching her breath.

  “No, I’m a bit early. I was excited about our discussion yesterday and wanted to meet with you as soon as I could. I even brought paper, ink, a pen, and an envelope. I hoped you’d help me write the letter,” she lifted her reticule and smiled.

  “I wrote a letter myself,” Sarah explained. “I knew you were nervous, and I need to let Mrs. Brutherington know you were my friend, and she would do her best for you.”

  “Oh my,” Celia gasped. “You mean it? We are friends?”

  “Yes, of course. Each time the Widows Biggs and Mudd belittled me or tried to force their suggestions on me, you had a kind word. You never made me feel unwelcome or less than I am. I’m grateful for that.” She took Celia’s arm. “Let’s go inside and wait. We can discuss what you’d like to say in your letter before Joseph arrives.”

  There were several empty wooden crates in the main room of the lower floor. Sarah stacked one on top of another to form a table. She pushed another close by for Celia to sit at and write.

  “Please Celia sit, and we can decide what you should write. It isn’t hard. Mrs. Brutherington is a wonderful lady.” Sarah pulled another crate near Celia so they could speak quietly.

  “What should I write?” Celia asked setting out her inkwell and pen.

  “Begin the letter the way you would any other. Introduce yourself and mention right away that we are friends. You need to tell her a bit about yourself and what you are looking for in a husband.”

  Celia’s cheeks turned red. “Oh, I never thought about that. I only want a man who will be kind to me and possibly love me one day or at least care about me. I will have money from the sale of my home and I still have funds my parents left me. I wouldn’t be a burden.”

  “That’s good. If you have some money, you should keep it in the bank in case you have an emergency. You never know what life can bring.” She patted Celia’s shaky hand. “Do you want children?” Sarah asked.

  Celia’s cheeks reddened even more, and tears filled her eyes. “I never hoped for children. I knew I would be a spinster. Oh, Sarah, do you think it’s possible?”

  “You are not that old, Celia. Yes, I think it is possible. Write the letter and if you need help, just ask me.” Sarah watched as Celia began writing.

  After several minutes Celia looked up and said, “How would I describe my eyes?”

  “I think they’re a lovely gray-blue, but you shouldn’t sound vain. Write gray-blue,” Sarah laughed. “And be sure to add you’re a God-fearing, church-going woman. That’s important.”

  Celia smiled, “That was one of the first things I mentioned. It’s important for anyone to know about me. I asked that a husband be the same.”

  “I’m sure Mrs. Brutherington will find you a good match.”

  Celia handed the letter to Sarah, “Please read this and tell you what you think.”

  Sarah read and smiled. Celia’s sweet nature and innocence came through in her writing. She didn’t ask for a wealthy husband or a handsome one. Her only requirement was that he be God-fearing and kind.

  “It’s perfect,” Sarah said. She handed Celia the envelope she addressed earlier to Mrs. Brutherington. “You should use this address. If you send it to the agency, it might get around town. I would add a note at the bottom of your letter and ask her not to use the business name in the correspondence.”

  Celia wrote another sentence at the bottom of her letter and smiled at Sarah, “Thank you. I am excited. Do you think there is a man out there for me?”

  Sarah stood and put her arm around Celia’s shoulder. “I’m sure of it, and Mrs. Brutherington will find him. Trust me.”

  She nodded and slipped the letter into the envelope. “Just in time,” Celia said. “Joseph’s wagon just pulled up.”

  “Oh, I should tell him to go around back. Wait, I’ll be right back.” Sarah hurried out to speak to Joseph while Celia sealed her envelope.

  In short order, Joseph and his helper moved a bed, table, and two chairs upstairs. The other chairs he moved into the shop area. The last items were the bookcases. Sarah explained where she needed the work table and the front table for customer transactions so Joseph would understand what she needed.

  “I’ll also need some plain storage shelves for supplies in the back room. They can be simple shelves hung on the wall. You don’t need to make bookcases. Also, Mr. Masters asked me to ask you if you’d bring your wagon around to his place and pick up the mattresses I purchased. There’s also a large bundle. Would you bring that, too?” Sarah asked hoping she wasn’t imposing.

  “Certainly, Mrs. Morey, I’d be happy to. You’re my best customer,” Joseph smiled and walked out to his wagon.

  Sarah turned to Celia, “Would you like to come upstairs with me and see what it looks like with a bit of furniture. After Joseph returns with the mattresses, we’ll post our letters at the train station. Then we can go to Callahan’s for lunch.”

  ~ * ~

  Sarah and Celia strolled back from the train station. As they neared the mercantile, they saw Widows Biggs and Mudd walk out and head their way.

  “Celia Paddon, where on earth were you this morning? We came by for coffee, and you were not home. You never walk about alone. Were you ill? Did you see the doctor? Say something young lady.” Widow Biggs insisted.

  Celia turned to Sarah with panic filled eyes. Sarah smiled at her, and Celia turned back to address Widow Biggs. “No, I’m not ill. I met Sarah at her shop this morning and helped her with her new furniture. Now we’re going to have lunch. Good day.”

  Sarah and Celia walked toward Callahan’s and on one of the rare occasions in her life left the Widow Biggs speechless.

  “That went well,” Sarah whispered. “Let’s eat lunch.”

  Sarah and Celia settled at a table near the back of Callahan’s. A surprised Nell approached the table. “Hello, ladies. Can I bring you some coffee or tea while you decide what you’d like for lunch? I can offer you beef soup and biscuits or friend chicken and mashed potatoes.”

  Nell looked at Sarah and shrugged. Sarah smiled back, and Nell knew that Celia would be a new friend to her, too.

  Celia looked up, “Tea, please and the chicken.”

  “Me, too,” Sarah added.

  Nell brought their tea and then returned with two plates of the friend chicken and potatoes. The plates also held green beans and a biscuit.

  “My goodness, you certainly serve a hearty lunch,” Celia commented.

  “We’re getting more and more men in here from Underwood’s. They prefer Cal’s cooking, and Cal likes to be sure they fill up. Speaking of men, that handsome man who was here last night rented our upstairs office space. His name is Giles Bowen. He’s single and a lawyer.” Nell grinned at Sarah.

  “Oh, maybe you’ll get a husband, too Sarah,” Celia blurted.

  “Too?” Nell inquired.

  Celia’s cheeks heated, and she whispered. “Nell’s your best friend. I think I can trust her.”

  Sarah nodded, and Celia whispered her secret to Nell.

  Nell hugged her and said, “I won’t tell a soul, I promise and don’t worry about the widows. They rarely come in and when they do they don’t speak to me. Cal needs to handle their orders.”

  Celia took a bite of chicken and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “This is delicious. Tell your husband he’s the best cook I know.”

  “I’ll do tha
t,” Nell replied and looked up when the bell chimed. “Look, here comes our new tenant. Smile, Sarah.”

  Sarah glared at her.

  Nell walked up to Giles, “Good afternoon, Mr. Bowen. Please take a seat. We have beef soup and fried chicken today. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” he said not taking his brown eyes off Sarah.

  Nell turned to get Giles’ coffee and winked at Sarah.

  Sarah did her best not to look at Giles as she felt her cheeks heat.

  Celia said, “I do believe that man is interested in you. He keeps looking this way, and I know he’s not looking at me.” She slid a fork of mashed potatoes in her mouth, swallowed, and added, “I’m going to miss this place when I move to wherever I might be moving.”

  Sarah giggled. “You’ll know soon. Our letters will leave on the afternoon train and get to Chicago quickly and Mrs. Brutherington is very responsible in answering.”

  They finished their meals, and since it wasn’t crowded, they sat and enjoyed more tea. The chime above the door jangled again, and Molly rushed in. She dropped into a chair next to Sarah.

  She blurted, “Sorry, I’m late. I know I promised to be at the shop in the morning, but Rachel’s arthritis was acting up this morning, so I stayed and made bread and biscuits for her. Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting. Good afternoon, Miss Paddon.” She sat back and caught her breath.

  Celia said, “If Rachel is feeling poorly, I think I’ll visit her. Molly, please call me Celia. Miss Paddon sounds too stuffy.”

  Molly twisted her lip in confusion and nodded.

  Giles Bowen approached the table hat in hand. “Good afternoon, ladies. I understand you own the building across the street, Mrs. Morey. We’ll be neighbors since I rented the upstairs office. Nice to see you again,” he smiled.

  “Yes, I believe we will,” Sarah stammered.

  “I’m sure I will see you again at lunch or dinner time here at Callahan’s. Have a nice day.” He turned and walked out of the restaurant.

  “I think he likes you, Sarah,” Molly sighed.

  “I agree,” Celia said. “I must be going, but don’t let that man get away. He is quite handsome. I’ll stop by the shop soon to discuss a wardrobe. Nice seeing you, Molly.” She dropped some coins on the table to pay for lunch, picked up her reticule, and strolled out.