Mail Order Matilda (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 18) Read online

  Mail Order

  Matilda

  Book 18

  Widows, Brides and Secret Babies Series

  Margaret Tanner

  Contents:

  Copyright © 2020 Margaret Tanner 3

  Chapter One 4

  Chapter Two 12

  Chapter Three 27

  Chapter Four 35

  Chapter Five 48

  Chapter Six 58

  Chapter Seven 68

  Chapter Eight 76

  Chapter Nine 84

  Epilogue 91

  Author Links 95

  About the Author: 96

  Other Books by Margaret 97

  MAIL ORDER MATILDA

  WIDOWS BRIDES AND SECRET BABIES

  Book 18

  Copyright © 2020 Margaret Tanner

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.

  This story is a work of fiction, and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting and geography. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.

  Acknowledgements: Many thanks to my author friends, Susan Horsnell and Cheryl Wright, for all their help and support.

  To my loyal readers: Thank you so much for your support. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.

  Cover Artist: Virginia McKevitt

  Format: Susan Horsnell

  Chapter One

  Coyote Crossing, Texas 1880

  Matilda (Tilly) Smith slumped in the chair and stared at the sheriff through tear filled eyes. Geoffrey was dead. “How? Where?”

  “He was shot during a fight in a saloon in Santa Fe.”

  “No! No! What was he doing there? The last time he wrote, he was in New Orleans. It must be a mistake.”

  “I’m afraid there is no mistake. A letter addressed to you was found on him, that’s how we found you. The sheriff from there contacted me. I have more bad news too Mrs. Um Smith.”

  More bad news? Was the man crazy? What worse news could there be than hearing your husband was dead.

  “Your husband wasn’t who he said he was.”

  She recoiled with shock. “He was a Pinkerton Agent.”

  The deputy handed her a glass of water and she gulped it down then wished she had sipped it as it made her stomach churn even more.

  “My information is that your husband lied to you.” The sheriff exchanged a grim-faced glance with his deputy.

  “He didn’t. He didn’t. How can you say such dreadful things about a man who is dead and can’t defend himself?”

  “Geoffrey Smith was not a Pinkerton Agent. He was a bigamist.”

  “Bigamist!” She screamed the word out. “He loved me.”

  “Well, he might have loved you, but he was already married to another….”

  Black stars flashed before Tilly’s eyes as she desperately tried not to faint.

  “Apart from his legal wife, he bigamously married you and at least one other woman, possibly two.”

  Tilly gave up fighting the blackness, just let it overtake her. The next thing she knew she was lying on the floor with the sheriff frantically fanning her with a folded-up newspaper.

  “Help me up, please. I…I can’t take this all in. You mean I’m not married to him? I’ve been living in sin?”

  “Yes, Mrs. um…”

  “My name is Matilda Freeman.” She wondered how she could speak at all.

  “I’m sorry Miss Freeman, I really am.” He helped her up and into the chair she had just toppled off. “Is there anyone I can contact for you? A relative? A friend?”

  She shook her head. She had no relatives as far a she knew. She glanced at the deputy who had a knowing smirk on his face. The man obviously thought her predicament was amusing.

  No decent person would want to associate with her now. She was little better than a soiled dove.

  Week after week she had attended church, gone to the church luncheons when Geoffrey had been away. She cringed just thinking about it. A happy new bride they had thought her to be. Now they wouldn’t want to know her if word got out. Who would believe she knew nothing about her husband already having a wife?

  “I’m all right now, I think I’ll go home,” she managed to say.

  “I really am sorry.” The expression on the sheriff’s weather-beaten face was one of sympathy. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I would lay low for a while. I haven’t been here long, but my impression of this town so far isn’t good.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. I swear I didn’t know he was already married.”

  “I believe you, Miss Freeman, unfortunately many others won’t if it gets out. My advice for what it’s worth, is get out of Coyote Crossing and start off afresh somewhere else.” He turned to his deputy. “You keep your mouth shut about this, too.”

  The Deputy pulled a face.

  “I have to get home. I need to lie down until the shock wears off.”

  “His real name was Geoffrey Langford. I don’t know what else I can say, except I am really sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She gave the sheriff a wan smile.

  “If you need to talk to anyone, I’m a good listener.”

  “Thank you.”

  The deputy said nothing and by the sly furtive looks he kept giving her when he thought himself unobserved, she knew he was not sympathetic to her plight.

  Tilly left the office feeling like she’d been trampled by a team of horses.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cosgrove.”

  One of the stalwarts from the church looked her up and down, gave a dismissive sniff and pointedly walk away. A foretaste of things to come. How could the woman have found out so quickly? Probably someone from the telegraph office spreading the gossip. She wouldn’t trust the deputy not to take delight in spreading the news, but he was still with the sheriff.

  The woman’s behaviour was humiliating yet she tried not to let it show. Pride was the only thing between her and total degradation. With her head held high, Tilly walked down the main street toward the boarding house where she and Geoffrey had lived for the last few weeks.

  Why hadn’t she thought it strange that they moved around all the time and she was often left alone. She had believed his story of having to leave on assignments for the Pinkerton Agency. Fool that she was for falling for his honeyed lies.

  A smirking cowboy lounging outside the saloon snickered and his suggestive wink caused her to inwardly cringe.

  What if Mrs. Holbery at the boarding house decided not to let her stay? Kicked her out into the street. Spasms of fear shook her body. Homeless and destitute, she couldn’t believe it might come to this.

  Her hands trembled as she opened the front door of the boarding house and hurried upstairs to her room, half expecting to be called back by Mrs. Holbery and told to pack her meagre belongings and get out.

  She flung herself on the double bed and sobbed her heart out. Sadness, despair, betrayal and degradation, all those emotions ran through her. Geoffrey had never had many possessions nor did she for that matter. Thinking back on it she had wondered why he never appeared to have any friends and always kept to himself no matter where they had lived. Always on the move. Where did he get the money for their expenses? There never seemed to be any need to scrimp. They ate out often, stayed in quite comfortable boarding
houses or a hotel room ever now and again.

  He told her the Pinkerton Agency paid for it, now she knew it was a lie. What about the other women he had deceived? Fresh tears fell.

  You need to sort something out quickly Tilly Freeman. She had no right to use the name Smith anymore, not that she wanted to. All the strange things she had noticed, yet not bothered about because of Geoffrey’s honeyed lies came back to haunt her. How could a woman be so blinded by love she failed to notice discrepancies in his story?

  At twenty-two years of age she was a fallen woman with no home, no job and no family or friends to fall back on. At fifteen years old she had become estranged from her parents after years of putting up with their heavy drinking and screaming fights. Her life had become intolerable. The first thirteen years of her life had been spent on a small ranch near Laramie until her father lost it playing cards. After that they had moved into a tumbledown house on the outskirts of town.

  Ma had worked with her at the local diner while pa got a job at the prison. After working there for a few weeks, he had been fired for being drunk on duty. From then on, the family were on a downward spiral.

  Old Nellie Argyle, a regular at the diner, had told her to leave Laramie and make a life for herself somewhere else because her parents would drag her down to their level. The kindly woman had given her enough money to get to Cheyanne and a letter of introduction to a friend who owned a diner there. She would probably have been better with her drunken parents as it turned out because Cheyanne was where she had met Geoffrey.

  Stop snivelling she told herself. You need to go down and see Mrs. Holbery. Better for her to hear the sordid tale from me than someone else. It might buy her time to work out what to do. She couldn’t stay here that was a certainty.

  Mrs. Holbery was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea when Tilly stumbled in.

  “My dear, what is the matter. Help yourself to a cup of tea.”

  “Thank you.”

  The woman had obviously not yet heard the news. With trembling hands Tilly poured herself a cup of tea. “Something terrible has happened.” Briefly she relayed what Geoffrey had done.

  “My dear, how shocking for you. I’m so sorry.”

  Tilly wiped a tear from her eye. “I was hoping you wouldn’t send me away until I can work out what I can do.”

  “Why would I send you away? It wasn’t your fault. What a despicable thing for a man to do. You’re lucky he didn’t leave you with a child.”

  Tilly gasped and clutched at her chest. “Oh, yes, that would have been a catastrophe.”

  “I don’t like putting it this way, but I will. I’ve always been a straight talker with my dealing with guests. While you can pay, you can stay here. I know that sounds harsh, it’s necessary as I’m barely making ends meet as it is.”

  “I understand Mrs. Holbery. I do. I’ve got a little money saved up and I hope to obtain a job.”

  “So long as we both understand each other. I’d like to be more generous toward you only I can’t. If you could help me with some of the housework, probably a couple of hours a day, I can reduce your rent by a few dollars. I’m sorry it’s the best I can do.”

  “That will be good, if my money lasts longer it will give me more time to find employment.”

  “Under the circumstances once the gossip mongers get going it won’t be easy for you, my dear. You’re a brave girl I can tell, remain dignified no matter what they say.”

  “I used to really enjoy going to church, now I won’t be able to attend,” she said dejectedly.

  “A few pious hypocrites will ruin it for you. It’s none of my business but if you want my advice why not become a mail order bride?”

  “A mail order bride?” Tilly recoiled in horror. “I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.” It would be nearly as bad as selling herself in the street.

  Chapter Two

  Brodie Miller stared at the sheet of paper on his desk. How low had he sunk that he was even considering advertising for a bride. What choice did he have? Once Liz left there would be no woman to cook the meals for his guests or keep the rooms clean and tidy.

  Years of work going down the drain because Liz was pregnant and wanted to move back to Houston. Not only would he lose her, also Hamish his foreman.

  The Miller Stage Line and the accommodation center was his whole life, six-years of blood, sweat and tears, not to mention near death encounters and he could lose it all. Hamish would be hard to replace, luckily his brother Hank was a good man who could step up. Employing a housekeeper was the problem.

  Hank and Liz were happy about the coming baby and excited to be returning to Houston to run her parents’ mercantile. Not only to run it, own it free and clear. Liz’s parents were prepared to sign the place over to them, lock, stock and barrel as they wanted to retire and be near their first grandchild when it arrived.

  Hamish was a lucky son of a gun. A nice wife, a thriving business handed to him on a platter. He didn’t begrudge his friend this happiness. He had done it hard for years, they both had, but it left him in a heap of trouble.

  Maybe he should not have borrowed money from the bank to finance the building of extra accommodation for passengers who stayed overnight. He was even getting a few drivers from a freight company who sometimes brought passengers in for the last leg of their journey to the end of the line at Four Winds.

  Tidying the rooms, he could do at a pinch, after all they were not offering luxury accommodation. It was the cooking. Ham, beans and fried potatoes was all there was in his culinary repertoire. He gave a bark of laughter. Even then the food was poor.

  If he had been forced to cook for his fifteen half-brothers and sisters on his father’s dirt- poor farm in Tennessee he might have learned something. Apart from ranch chores he had to play nursemaid to the grizzling, snotty nosed kids swarming through their dilapidated house. He shuddered on remembering having to help his pa deliver a couple of the latest babies. As soon as his twin half-sisters turned ten and they could do what he had to do since he was about the same age, he left the ranch and followed the grub line all over the West, honing his skills with a gun.

  He had become lightning fast on the draw and was soon in demand as a gun for hire. It paid well, but he wanted to get out before he slowed down, and some cocky young wannabee gunslinger beat him to the draw.

  What could he say about himself? He chewed on the end of his pencil. He could hardly tell a prospective bride he was a washed-up gunslinger.

  Respectable business owner in his early thirties urgently requires a wife.

  That sounded okay.

  Aged between twenty and thirty years old. Prefer single, would consider a widow without children. Must have good cooking and housekeeping skills and be prepared to live in an isolated area.

  He didn’t want some little hot house city flower who would wilt in the heat and moan about getting her hands dirty.

  Looks were unimportant. Not that he wanted to end up with a woman who was uglier than a dimes worth of dog meat.

  Looks not a major consideration if candidate has afore mentioned attributes. No romance required.

  He stopped writing. No point making it too long or the newspaper advertisement would cost him a fortune.

  He cursed under his breath. Liz was already in the sixth month of her pregnancy and couldn’t stay much longer. The nearest town, Eldorado was only five miles away, yet no-one, married or single would come out here. What was wrong with people? Had he found some suitable woman he would have married her. He wasn’t that devoid of decency he wouldn’t make sure propriety was observed. Of the few single women available none of them obviously thought he was much of a catch in the husband stakes.

  His features were too rugged to be handsome, his cynicism probably showed in his eyes, yet his looks were okay. Six feet tall, blue eyes, brown hair and a good set of teeth. What more could a woman want?

  He didn’t drink except for an occasional glass of whiskey. Didn’t smoke or chew tobacco so why co
uldn’t he get a woman who was prepared to marry him and live out here in a comfortable house. He was comfortably set up if he didn’t count the money, he owed the bank. No, it had to be the isolation putting them off. Some of the young women wanted to marry a rich rancher, although there were too few of those around these parts.

  Please reply C/- Millers Stage Line, Eldorado, Texas.

  It wasn’t much of an advertisement, he was the first to admit, as he had never been given much book learning. Maybe he should get Liz to check it over for him. What the heck. He would get one of the drivers to post it tomorrow. He chuckled. What was he thinking? His stage carried mail to Moyston.

  He might as well turn in as he had an early start in the morning. He stood and stretched before heading to his quarters.

  ***

  For two days Tilly never ventured out of Mrs. Holbery’s place. On the third day she knew she could stay hidden no longer.

  “You can’t stay holed up here. I need you to order a few things from the mercantile for me.”

  Tilly knew the woman was trying to be kind by forcing her to be out and about. The longer she hid away the harder it would be to show her face.

  She dressed in her best dress. It was dark blue and quite subdued looking as might befit a widow, only she was not a widow. She didn’t quite know what she was under the circumstances. It would have been the height of hypocrisy to wear a black dress even if she owned one.

  “Now remember, dear. Walk with a straight back, your head held high. You did nothing wrong. You were the victim of an unscrupulous lying man who hopefully has already passed into the hands of the devil.”

  “I feel so nervous.”

  “I know and I would come with you except my rheumatics is nearly killing me. I’m too old for all this kind of thing. Maybe I should do as my daughter wants and move to California and live with her.”

  “You’ve been so kind to me, I’ll be forever grateful.”

  “I just wish I could do more to help.” She shook her head causing her double chin to wobble. “To be honest, I’m struggling, Tilly.”