Mail Order Bride: Westward Winds by - (book club books TXT) 📕
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Tessa grew more excited every time she read the advertisement. Her mind began churning as she weighed the pros and cons of doing such a thing. She would certainly begin an adventure that would be worth writing about and perhaps find true love in the meantime. She would miss her family greatly and most likely anger them, but she was of age and could make her own decisions. Tessa was no fool and she realized that she would have to be sure of the man before travelling to meet him.
Knowing that she would be noticed writing down an address, Tessa memorized the address listed in the ad. After a rather boisterous breakfast with a lot of teasing between the four women, Tessa went up to her room and began making her plans to go to the Brooks Agency the next day.
She would need a taxi because she didn’t want the family’s driver to report where she was going. Tessa had no doubt that Mr. Richards would tell her father if she were to go anywhere out of character for her. She decided she would go for a walk to the park and take a cab from there. Paying cab fare wasn’t an issue because Tessa had a rather large sum of money saved and stashed in her room.
Each of the girls was given an allowance every week and it was rare that Tessa used all of hers because almost all of her needs were met by her parents. Maddie, on the other hand, was prone to spending her money on frivolous items and then wanting more money to buy more things that caught her eye. Tessa hoped Maddie married a rich man who could keep up with her spending habits.
The day seemed to pass slowly even though Tessa kept busy. She was impatient for the day to be over and for the next day to come. She lay in bed that night and couldn’t sleep, try as she might. She wanted to look her best tomorrow to make a good impression at the Brooks Agency. However, it was a long time before sleep claimed her.
“Well, Miss O’Connor, you seem to be exactly what we’re looking for in potential brides. The men are looking for women of your breeding and temperament,” J.D. Brooks said with a smile.
Tessa returned his smile and said, “Splendid! How do we proceed?”
Mr. Brooks turned and took a large file from a cabinet behind him. “These are advertisements from prospective men. Look through them and see if any appeal to you. I would ask that you choose only one to correspond with at a time because you may become confused as to whom you are writing. Men are jealous sometimes and it may not sit well with them that you are talking to other men as well.”
Tessa saw the wisdom in that. “I understand.”
“Follow me, please,” Mr. Brooks said and rose from his chair.
He led her to a large conference room with a long table and many chairs.
“You will have plenty of room and privacy in here to look through them at your leisure,” he informed her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Mr. Brooks said and left her. As he went back to his desk, he wondered why such a beautiful, refined young lady was considering becoming a mail-order bride. From her elegant clothing and impeccable hair style, Tessa was obviously a woman of high social standing.
Tessa sat at the table and opened the file. There were many ads in it and she began to read them. She giggled over some of them because they were so amusing. Some were from men who were very strict about wanting a very domestic wife. Others were very sweet, almost too sweet, and she put those aside as well.
After an hour, she’d narrowed it down to five, and then three. Finally, she ended up with the one that struck a chord within her. It read:
Lonely widower rancher with two children seeks lovely lady who is kind, intelligent, and strong. Must like children and should be able to do some cooking. He’s a hard worker, a good provider, and also likes to have fun.
The name listed was Dean Samuels from Dawson, Montana. She felt sympathetic toward the gentleman because he had lost his wife and was trying to be a good father and earn a living at the same time. After putting all of the rest of the advertisements back in the folder, Tessa went back out to the front office.
Mr. Brooks looked up from some paperwork and smiled. “How’d we make out?”
“I would like to write to this gentleman,” she said and handed him the ad.
He read it and smiled. “Ah, yes. This one is rather popular,” he lied. “Let me write down the information for you. The letters will be private. I would ask that you be able to make up your mind within three months as we don’t want these men waiting for women who never come.”
Tessa was surprised. “There are other women writing to this rancher?”
Mr. Brooks nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s only fair.” He had no qualms about his dishonesty. He had to make a living, after all.
“What if they’ve already made up their mind?” Tessa asked.
“Don’t fret, my dear. Once a decision has been made, you must come to inform me. Thus far, no one has gone to see this gentleman. There is a contract you must sign. We require a two hundred dollar service fee. If you should change your mind about contacting this gentleman further and do not want to try any others, I would refund half of your money.”
Hope seeped its way back into her breast. “I see. You said two hundred dollars?”
“Yes. Will that be a problem?” Mr. Brooks asked.
Tessa calculated her funds. “No, it won’t,” she said as she opened her reticule and counted out the money. “Now, about that contract.”
Sweat trickled down Dean’s back as he finished mending the last section of fence. Evening was closing in and he had wanted to get the work done before dark. It made him feel good to know that he had achieved his goal. He straightened up and stretched his cramped back. Replacing rotten fence posts and stringing new wire was not easy and it was one of the jobs he hated most.
But, like always, Dean just got on with the job and got it done despite how he felt. He was good at pushing his feelings down deep. It made things simpler and it was less time consuming. He didn’t have enough time as it was because he had two kids to raise and a ranch to run. The work was never ending but he didn’t complain. It could be worse.
He threw the hammer he’d been using into his tool box and began walking back through the field to the barn. It was early May but summer was coming on fast. Dean hoped that didn’t mean there would be a drought that summer. Lord knew he needed a bumper crop this year because the crops and meager profits from the cattle sales last year had barely kept them going through the winter.
As he walked, Dean looked at the lush, green grass under his boots and was thankful his cattle had good grazing with which to start the summer. They were a bit thin and he wanted to get them fattened up. No one wanted to buy a skinny steer. He needed his steers to go for a good price.
“Pa! Pa!” he heard his son, Jackson, holler.
Dean looked up and saw his seven-year-old boy running at him pell-mell. His wheat-blond hair flew everywhere as he ran. Jasper, one of their Border Collies, ran barking and jumping at Jack.
“Look! Uncle Seth just brought it!” Jack told him and thrust the letter at him.
Dean took the mail from Jack. The envelope was ragged and dirty on the edges, evidence of how many times it had changed hands to get to him. He looked at the return address.
“Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania? I don’t know anyone in Pittsburgh, let alone Pennsylvania,” he mused.
Jack bounced up and down next to him. “Is that what it says, Pa? Pittsburgh? Can I see?”
Dean smiled at Jack. “Yeah, sure. See right there.”
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