Chapter 1

I was a 16 year old redhead in a family of redheads. My name at that time was Cassie O'Brien. I came from a large family of 13 kids. One died drowning at the old swimming hole when I was three. I was the eighth child of the twelve surviving brood. The small house could not hold us all. It was always overcrowded, loud with shouting voices wanting to be heard, and having too little room to get a good night's sleep. I was always tired as were all my sisters in the overcrowded bedroom. Somehow we made do with our cramped circumstances.

My father was a chicken farmer. He did try to grow corn and soybeans but he never had any luck to doing it. He did have a good handle on raising chickens. We had almost a thousand of them plus 20 roosters we had to keep separate or they'd kill each other. Having twelve kids meant the chores were pretty much easy tasks. Especially for us girls. My job was to walk to the post office in town to get the mail. One summer day in 1874 I spotted a sign in the local post office about an agency in New York City looking for mail order brides out west. All I had to do was fill out a form and mail it in. I did just that as a prank knowing no one would contact me. I was a pretty girl with green eyes, a lovely face with no freckles, nice breasts (if I can say so myself), but I was tiny. Four foot-ten inches. I joked with myself that when the carnival came to town, I could join up as a midget. Never seeing one before, I couldn't image anyone could be any smaller than me. I was the runt of the litter.

When I got home from my walk, I'd help Mama with the cooking. Most of us girls would except for Margaret. She wanted to become a famous actress and she'd spend as much time as she could in front of a mirror saying lines from a book she got from the library. Despite our location, Rhode Island had a nice traveling library. They'd come by every month or two retrieving books and loaning others out. The boys in our family liked reading about the recent Civil War. We girls had different interests. Susan liked books on sewing and knitting. Robin liked stories of all kinds while I loved to read romantic novels. I read Little Women at least once a year. Then throughout the year I'd dream that I was one of those girls being courted by handsome young men and eventually marrying.

It was a month later that this agency sent me several letters forwarded in my name of men wanting a woman. I was surprised because I had not been serious when I filled out that form. In fact, I forgot all about it. There were five in all so I started reading them on the way back home. Two I dismissed because the love sick men were too old. Another needed a wife to manage his six children in Kentucky. One man wanted a woman who was strong and able to wield an axe cutting wood. The last was a man in Western Nebraska who was twenty-one looking for a young woman to take care of his needs. You know; cook for him, patch up the tears in his clothing, clean the house, and other chores women do for their men to keep them comfortable. He had a picture of himself taken when he was eighteen. I have to admit he was quite good looking, tall, clean shaven. He'd never married, didn't smoke or drink, never chewed tobacco. His name was Miles Graves. He owned his farm free and clear, raised corn and soybeans like Papa only he was quite successful.

I took an interest in Miles. I wondered what it would be like to be married and a mother? I didn't want to give birth to thirteen kids like Mama did. It broke her heart when Henry drowned. Three would be nice, at the most four. So when I got home, I found Mama lying down for a brief rest. We were alone so I showed her the letter and photograph from Miles to get her advice.

"He is certainly handsome, Cassie," she told me. "However are you sure you want to do this? This would be a very big step for you."

"I don't know, Mama. I love you and Papa, I love my siblings, I love this place. But there's little chance of landing a husband with all the men that were killed in the War Between The States. What do you think I should do?"

"Well if I were you, I'd look into this further. You don't have to take this man. I'm sure there will be others. But he looks like he would be a nice catch. My only question is, why doesn't he look around him to see if there is a woman there to marry?"

"So you don't think it would hurt to write a letter to the agency to forward it onto him?"

"Wouldn't hurt at all. Why don't you do that? Make sure that you write a good description of yourself. Tell the truth about everything. If you don't and he sees you get off the train he will be disappointed and may not take you in. Then you will be stuck out there with no way of getting back. You know we don't have the money to send to bring you back to us. So be very careful how describe yourself. You are a pretty girl and you don't have to exaggerate about your looks!"

"Thank you, Mama," I kissed her cheek and gave her a loving hug. "Get some rest."