The Pastor's Replacement Bride

My Dearest Hattie,

The thought just came to me this morning that you are the chosen leader of a group of mail-order brides, which makes you one as well. We both know you have never received a letter from your suitor. Nor have you written him one in return. I wish to rectify that oversight.

You know part of why I am seeking a bride. I make no secret of the fact that the deacons are adamant about me getting married. However, that isn’t the entire reason. To explain, I need to tell you about my past. It’s hard to talk about, so I hope by doing it this way it will be easier.

I didn’t start out wanting to be a pastor. I had planned to take over my family’s ranch in Texas, when I was grown. But all that changed one day, just after I turned sixteen.

My father was a kind and compassionate Christian man. One night, a weary traveler rode up to our front door. He looked like he had been riding hard and fast for days. Father invited him to stay and rest up. Both the man and his horse needed it.

The man tried to say no, but he didn’t even have the strength to do so. He was so tired that Father had me help him carry the man inside and put him in my bed. Father told me to sleep in the hayloft that night so our guest could rest.

After we ate, and Mother and Father tucked in my younger brother and sister, I made my way out to the barn and up into the loft. I didn’t mind giving up my bed, even back then I loved to sleep outdoors. Some nights I would take to the loft, just because I wanted to. If I’d known what that night would hold, I’d have taken a rifle with me. However, I didn’t know, and that has been one of my greatest regrets in life.

You see, about midnight the sound of horses thundering up to the ranch woke us. They were the Cavendish gang, one of the largest and most feared outlaw gangs in Texas. The man asleep in our house was a Texas Ranger, who had been part of a company of Rangers they had ambushed three days before.

He’d escaped and rode hard, heading to get reinforcements. They’d been chasing him and followed his trail right to our ranch. James Cavendish demanded that my father give the Ranger to them. My father refused. That’s when the entire gang opened fire on our house. They killed everyone inside.

I hid under the hay in the loft when they came looking to make sure they’d killed everyone. They stole our horses and set the barn on fire before they left. I almost didn’t make it out of the barn in time but got out just before it became impossible.

I went to the house to find my entire family shot dead. It took me three days, but I buried them all, and the Ranger. Then I gathered up what I could. The Ranger’s pistol and gun belt, my father’s rifle and all the ammunition we owned.

I stuffed the ammo and an extra shirt and pair of pants into a saddlebag, along with some dried beef and several cans of beans.

I put the saddle bag over my shoulder and walked back toward the town. It took me a week and when I got there, I was half dead from exposure. The local sheriff sent a wire to the Texas Rangers and a week later, a captain of the Rangers came to hear my story and see our ranch. I had sold the ranch to another rancher, bought a horse and saddle and more ammo. If the Ranger hadn’t come when he did, I would have been gone.

I had determined in my heart that I was going to hunt down every member of the Cavendish gang and kill them myself. Instead, I lied to the Ranger and said I was eighteen and asked if I could join the Texas Rangers. They swore me in the next day. They put me in the company that was actively hunting the Cavendish gang. I did that for four years and arrested or killed every single person responsible for my family’s death, except for James Cavendish.

So like you, I too am an orphan. Unlike you, I found a place where I could thrive. I was very good as a Texas Ranger and soon it became known that I had lied about my age and, instead of firing me, I was given the distinction of being the youngest Texas Ranger ever.

My story doesn’t end there, though. After four years, my company finally caught up with Cavendish, in a little town just north of the Mexican border.

He was attempting to recruit a new gang. My captain told us we would ride into town and arrest James and every other outlaw in two day’s time.

We were waiting for a second company of Rangers, who were going to set up along the border to keep anyone from escaping over it. I was so angry, Hattie. The man responsible for the death of my family was within my grasp, and I couldn’t do anything about it for two more days. That’s when I did something stupid. I was twenty years old, and should have known better, but my only defense is anger and a need for revenge blinded me.

I took off my badge and left it beside the campfire that night after everyone was asleep. After saddling my horse, I set out for that town. I rode right up to the saloon because I knew that’s where I’d find James. I pulled my pistol and stormed right through the entrance.

Then, I bellowed at the top of my lungs, “James Cavendish, show yourself, you coward.” That was the last thing I remember until I woke a week later, lying in a bed in a private Pullman railroad car.

Apparently, James never got out of his seat at the card table, just pulled his Colt and shot me. Then, the bartender and some others, thinking I was dead, pitched me out into the alley behind the bar.

That was where I was found, an hour later, by Nugget Nate Ryder.

He claimed God led him to me and since there was no doctor in that town, he’d brought me back to his private car, where he and his wife, Penny, doctored me. I’d been delirious and feverish for a week.

When I finally awoke, we were on our way to his ranch, the Dueling N’s. It was Nate who brought me back to God and helped me learn to let go of my need for revenge. I worked for him for a while and learned from him more about God and then one night, as he and Penny and I were talking, I realized God was calling me to be a preacher.

I told this to Nate, and he sent a telegram to a Bible School and Seminary his grandson was attending. He put me on the train and sent me to school in New York. That’s how I ended up here. After school and my ordination, my uncle wrote to me because their pastor and his wife had both taken ill. I came here to fill in until they were better. Instead, they both passed. I became the pastor here.

So, now you know my story, as well. Hopefully, it doesn’t scare you off. I’m in for a penny, may as well be in for the whole dollar. I want to tell you about the day I met you.

I was there to meet my mail-order bride, that’s true, but I was there at the station more as the pastor and the person put in charge of this entire plan. It wasn’t my plan. The Ladies’ Aid Society came up with the plan, but I prayed and agreed with it.

When I realized both coaches were filled with women, I knew I had to offer to help them down.

It surprised me to hear a voice as I stepped up to open the door. It said, “You heard him, end of the line. Time to meet your beaus and start our new lives.” It was said with such life and passion, I wanted to know who it was.

The door opened and one after another, ladies came out. Each of them were pretty and curious and they looked around, taking in the town. Then the last woman took my hand as she stepped out but, unlike the others, she didn’t look around. She looked me right in the eyes and I was smitten.

That’s right, when our eyes met, I wanted you to be the woman I’d been writing to. I wanted you, Hattie Long, to be the woman who I’d get to court. While the other girls were pretty, you were beautiful. When you spoke, it was like your voice was the balm my heart hadn’t known it needed until then.

The girls from both coaches gathered around you and I could see that they trusted you, relied on you. They needed you. That made me pray to God that you were meant for me. I will admit it here, but nowhere else, that I also had the thought that you might not be the woman I was to court. That made me jealous of whoever that lucky man would be.

I’m sad Haddie died because she was your friend and because we had become friends while corresponding. But I was glad when you told me she wasn’t on those coaches. Because I knew I had to court right away.

And now, I have another secret to share with you. But I won’t tell you about it in this letter. I will just give you the last letter I received from your friend. It arrived just yesterday, after I had left you. Haddie wrote it before she got sick and hadn’t sent it. Her father said she’d planned to mail it on the way to meet the other brides. He did it on the way back from dropping you off for her. I’m sure she would want you to read it. I know I do.

Know this, Hattie Long, I am still smitten with you. Honestly, I am more than smitten; You might say I am madly in love with you. I didn’t believe it was possible to fall in love this quickly, but I did, so it must be. I will court you as long as you need me to. For me, I know what I want. You! I want you to be Hattie Bryce, my wife, my helpmate, my love. Know that I will court you, I will woo you, and I will marry you!

Yours for life,

Joshua.