The Pastor's Replacement Bride
Copyright© 2023 by George H. McVey
Chapter 15
Hattie
At breakfast, the girls were all excited over Hattie’s dress design. They wanted to know if she would make more designs. She told them she would, and each wanted her to design something for them.
“I haven’t even made the first one yet. Why don’t you all wait and see how it turns out? After all, it might be horrible when finished.”
Lyla had the sketch in front of her as she scooped a bite of scrambled eggs and sausage into her mouth. “Have you made the pattern yet?”
Hattie’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “No, I don’t know how to make a pattern.”
“Oh, it’s easy. I can show you, and it makes cutting the fabric easier. You won’t make a mistake that would cost you material, that way. It’s how Father used to prepare all his products. He wasn’t a designer like you, but he purchased patterns from them. Having helped him, I figured out how to make the patterns, but I don’t have the ideas for designing. I’m an excellent seamstress, though.”
“I tell you what, Lyla. If you help me, and teach me how to make a pattern and help with the sewing, I’ll split the money Mister Caudwell gives me for each dress with you.”
Lyla smiled and nodded, “I’ll be happy to help you, Hattie.”
“Great! How do we start? I was going to buy fabric after breakfast, but I’m guessing I should make the pattern first?”
“Yeah. Let’s go see if Mr. Caudwell has a partial roll of that white paper he wraps the purchases in for delivery. That should be wide and long enough to lay our pattern on.”
Hattie nodded. “I need to write a couple letters first. But that will give you a chance to finish helping Helen with the breakfast clean up. Remember, this is your day for it.”
Lyla nodded. The women all continued to eat. The conversation turned to the men who had all started showing up yesterday to plan a rendezvous. They had let their intention to press their suits be known. Hattie smiled.
Helen had told her what Joshua had spent most of the day yesterday doing. Today, he was going to help an older farmer with a downed fence. Helen had explained he probably wouldn’t get back till after dark and maybe not then, with the snow on the ground. That gave her plenty of time to work on her projects today, which was a good thing. However, she couldn’t help but feel a loss at not getting to spend time with Joshua. She’d spent time with him every day since she’d arrived and found she’d become used to the idea.
She rose after her plate was empty, carried it into the kitchen and set it on the small prep table in the center of the room. She refilled her cup of coffee and let the girls know she would be in her parlor if any of them needed her.
Then she retired to write both Pastor Long and Joshua. She wanted to post Pastor Long’s when she went to the mercantile to get her supplies. Hattie started with Pastor Long’s, as she really wanted to take her time on Joshua’s. If she didn’t get to it before Lyla was finished, it could wait till later in the day. She had all day, after all.
Pastor Long,
I just received word of Haddie’s death. I’m so sorry for your loss. I wanted to return to help comfort you and grieve my almost twin with you. But Pastor Bryce convinced me it wouldn’t be wise and might place you in danger. So, this is the best I can do. I wanted to take a moment and thank you for your help in my situation. I know it had to be hard to leave Haddie’s side to take me to Pastor Jackson’s and I am eternally grateful.
I was told you plan on visiting here in the spring, and I am glad. You and Haddie were the closest thing to family I had these past nine years. I thank God for leading me to your church, and not one of the others I passed to get to yours. I also thank God for Haddie’s idea of joining the mail-order brides of Sanctuary.
The town is quaint and nothing at all like Chicago. I’ve been well accepted by the other brides and feel like I gained ten more sisters. I was asked to stand with the first three who married when they got here. Since then I have been approached individually by the others, asking if I will do the same for each of them when the time comes. I said of course and know that it is a real honor to be asked.
I am embarrassed to admit this, but because of our similar names, the other brides seemed to mistake me for Haddie at first. Because of that, they made me the go-to person for their fears and concerns. I set them straight about who I am and they said it didn’t matter to them. Each said I was the person who helped them and comforted them and prayed with them, so they would continue to lean on me as the need arose. I know as a pastor you have probably experienced this often, but I found it funny how the Good Lord reveals His purpose for our lives.
Since you mailed out Haddie’s last letter to Pastor Bryce, you know she had suggested he turn his suit towards me. I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear he has. I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to write to you as if you were my father now, since I can’t write to my own for advice.
I don’t know what to do. I have already fallen in love with him after only two days here. My heart longs for time with him.
I feel almost a physical pain when he isn’t here. I know it’s unseemly, and less than proper, but I want to marry him right now. He, being the pastor, wants to court for a proper amount of time first.
While I enjoy courting him, I want things that aren’t proper unless we are married. I want him to kiss me and hold me. What advice would you give me, if you were my father? I keep trying to remind myself that I’m courting the town’s pastor. That if I want to be his wife, I need to set an example by doing what is proper. While that sounds good, I find myself still having thoughts and desires that are unseemly for a single lady.
Maybe living where I did has corrupted me somehow. If it did, how can I allow myself to court the pastor? How can I marry him? Oh, I don’t know, and this is the worst time for me to ask you any of this.
I’m going to close now so I can get this letter posted before the mail coach comes. I don’t know how often I will write this winter. We’ve been told that sometimes the snow makes mail delivery impossible. I will try to write as often as I can. Please address any responses to Mrs. Joshua Bryce. I know I’m not married yet, but that way Papa John cannot track me down. It was Joshua’s idea. I know I can never replace Haddie, but I hope you will consider me something of a daughter. God Bless you, Pastor Long.
Your almost daughter,
Hattie Long.
She put the letter in an envelope. She would ask Uncle Jethro to address it, so that it couldn’t be traced back to her.
Then, she went and found Lyla and Helen and they headed over to the mercantile to get what they needed to make the dresses.
Joshua
Joshua was tired. There had been more fence down than Mister Wilson had originally thought. The weather hadn’t helped matters. The snow had been piled higher at the tree line on the mountain ridge. Then, after getting the fence up, they’d had to do a cattle count to make sure none of the herd had escaped.
Thankfully, because of the weather, they had all huddled together for warmth and none were missing. The twenty milk cows were in the pasture closest to the barn, so they’d moved the rest of the herd into the second closest pasture to make things easier on the older man for the coming days.
Joshua knew that he’d have to ask a couple of the other ranchers to lend Mister Wilson a couple of hands, if the weather continued to get bad. For now, though, it looked like the snow was over and the sky had cleared as the day wore on.
Now, with full darkness falling, Joshua was just glad to be getting home. The one good thing about the work today was that he’d not had time to think about Hattie and how good she felt in his arms.
Now, he was so tired and dirty. He had to admit to himself it would have been nice to arrive home to a wife who would heat the water for him to bathe in and rub liniment into his sore muscles.
Instead, he had to look forward to building a fire in both the heating stove and the cookstove and fetching his own water to heat. He’d never thought about it before but he knew some ranchers in Texas had set up windmills and piped the water to a spigot in their kitchen sinks, with a drain out the wall. Maybe he should take a bit of Nate’s money and have that setup done on the parsonage. He was sure it would make things easier on Hattie, after they were married, and be a delightful surprise for her, as well.
He rode into the livery and, this late, he had to care for his own mount. After getting off the saddle and rubbing down the mare, he gave her a bucket of feed and made sure the water trough was full. Then, covering her with a clean and dry blanket to ward off the cold of night, he set off for his own grooming and bed.
Joshua saw the letter sticking out between the door and door frame and smiled. So, she’d agreed to play his letter game. He hoped Haddie’s letter had been the balm she needed to not feel guilty over his courtship of her. It had come as a surprise to him when he’d gotten it. Now, he wanted to hurry and get cleaned up and in bed, so that he could read his letter and see what Hattie had to say about his past, his declaration of love, and her friend’s last letter.
He took the letter and placed it on the kitchen table. He lit the lanterns in the kitchen and started the fire in the cookstove.
Then, he started the fire in the small fireplace in his room. He’d not start the one in the front room, since he was going to bathe in the kitchen and then climb into bed.
Once both fires were going, Joshua grabbed a bucket and started getting water to heat for his wash up. As the water heated, he ate half the loaf of bread Mrs. Wilson had insisted he bring home and drank the last of his jug of milk. Wilson would deliver a new one in the morning, just like most days. He’d just gotten undressed when there came a pounding on his door. This time of night, it meant someone needed the pastor. So he pulled his shirt back on and headed to see who it was.
Jack Fury was about to pound again when Joshua opened the door. The moon shone off the tin star attached to his duster. There was enough light from the snow reflection to see that the sheriff wasn’t happy.
