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  “Oh…” Elinor glanced toward the door. She could hear the faint sound of voices approaching, and lowered her own voice. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Why don’t I come to your house?”

  Constance frowned. “You’re not going to tell Gideon the truth?”

  “Oh, I am! It’s just that…I’ll feel less foolish if I could at least learn the basics before I tell him. That way, I can at least assure him that I’m not utterly useless at the brand new machine he bought me.”

  “He bought you a new sewing machine? Oh, let me see!”

  Constance followed Elinor into the parlor, and sighed with admiration as Elinor lifted the cover.

  “My, he must be smitten! It was hard making ends meet after his parents died, and he doesn’t part with money easily.”

  “It was a generous gift,” Elinor agreed. “Which is why I feel so terrible about lying. And why I hope to learn to use it before I tell him the truth—if I can show him that his money wasn’t squandered, and that I’ve worked hard to live up to his expectations, perhaps he won’t be quite so disappointed in me.”

  “I suppose I can understand that. It’ll be a shame, though, if you can’t learn on your own machine. They’re all basically the same, but some machines can be fiddly, and there are slight differences.” Constance set her tea cup in the saucer and walked over to the machine under the window, lifting its case to view the machine hidden below. “Well, I don’t suppose this machine will give you too much trouble. I believe mine is just an older model from the same company. Yours has all these useful drawers. Did you order yours through the Montgomery Ward catalog?”

  Elinor nodded. “But don’t let that get around—Gideon is worried that Mrs. Sanders will give him what-for.”

  Constance laughed. “And he’d probably be right.”

  Footsteps clomped up onto the porch, and the door opened. Both men entered, but Orville paused to scrape his boots on the rug.

  “Cartwright, don’t tell me you’ve been married a whole day, and that pretty little wife of yours hasn’t trained you to wipe your feet?”

  Gideon shrugged his shoulders and cast Elinor a sheepish grin. “You’d think I’d have learned, after my sister nagged me about muddying up the floors she just cleaned, and asking why on earth she bothered to braid a rug if I wasn’t going to use it.”

  The women laughed.

  “Orville, it looks like we’ll be having a visitor on Monday. I’ve seen Adelaide’s new sewing machine, so I’d like to show her mine.”

  “Ugh, Cartwright, you’re killing me. You had to go and get her a new machine? Why couldn’t you buy a used one? Now that’s all I’ll hear, is how Mrs. Cartwright has a new machine, and ‘oh, it’s just so wonderful, and sews so much better than mine.’ Then she’ll sigh, and stare sadly at the machine that worked just fine for her up to now.”

  Gideon laughed. “Sorry, Pruett. My little Adelaide is a new bride, so it seemed right that she get a new machine.” He turned to Elinor. “I’m so glad that you two have something in common. I know it can get lonely this far out from town. After my sister moved out, the place felt awfully big and quiet.”

  “Heh, that’ll change,” chuckled Orville. “Before you know it, you’ll have young’uns clutchin’ to your knees, and you’ll cry many a tear, wishing to have that silence back, just for an hour.”

  “Oh, Orville!” Constance frowned. “Don’t you two listen to a word he says. He doted on our children like no man I’ve ever seen. He’s been awful cranky since Frank, our youngest, got married last year.”

  “Hush up, now, woman. No one wants to hear such foolishness.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Well, we’d best be on our way, leave you two lovebirds alone.”

  “Orville!”

  “What? What did I say?” His smile betrayed him as he pasted a false look of bewilderment on his face, while his wife pushed him toward the door.

  “I look forward to seeing you on Monday, Adelaide,” she said.

  “Thank you. Me too.” Elinor tried not to twist her hands, worrying that Constance might share her secret with her husband once they got home.

  Chapter 14

  Monday, September 8, 1890

  The Pruett Farm

  “I’m so glad to have a female neighbor again.” Constance poured the tea into two cups and sat at her kitchen table, across from Elinor. “I miss Nina. Gideon, Emmett, and Nina quickly became like family to me—my own youngest daughter had just gotten married before they moved in, and it had been lonely here. I’ve only met Hattie once, when she came to visit, since she had already married and moved away before Gideon bought his farm. But Nina came over sometimes so we could bake together, or so she could sew on my machine, or sometimes I’d go over to help her in the garden. I’m happy to have another woman living nearby. Our other neighbor is Mr. Warren, and his wife died a while back.”

  The sour look on Constance’s face made Elinor suspect that she didn’t like the man, but she didn’t say another word about it—and Elinor wouldn’t ask.

  “I’m glad to know you’re nearby, too. I grew up as a child in a city where everyone is shoulder-to-shoulder with their neighbors. It was all row houses, in fact, without any yards in the front. Only enough room for a tiny garden out back.”

  “Oh my! I can’t even imagine that. I grew up in Missouri, but we all had large yards and fences between the houses. At least in my neighborhood.”

  “Charlestown was different than here, that’s for sure.”

  “With so many people there, I’m surprised that there are women willing to come out to the Far West to marry. Are there no farmers near Boston? You’re so pretty, and intelligent! Surely a farmer wouldn’t have been beyond your reach…?” Constance shook her head. “Oh dear, listen to me, prying into your private business.”

  Elinor managed a tight smile. “I understand the curiosity. To be truthful…” she searched for the words. “I just needed a change. I…I wanted more freedom.”

  “Oh! That’s right, Gideon mentioned that you came from a family with seven children! I can only imagine what a relief it must be to cook for only one, instead of helping your mother feed nine people.” She laughed. “No wonder you took a train across the country. You weren’t just crowded in your neighborhood—your home was crowded too!”

  Elinor laughed, thinking of the bustling McGilvray household. Her own home, however, had been the opposite. So lonely and quiet, that if it hadn’t been for the quiet shuffling of the household staff, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall might have driven her quite mad.

  “What I can’t understand,” Elinor said, shifting the conversation, “is why Gideon chose Mrs. Porter’s services, rather than court a local girl. I know he says there aren’t many prospects around here for a man, but men only outnumber the women two to one now, don’t they? Not the best odds, but surely a man as handsome as he is, with land of his own, could garner the attention of at least a few girls.”

  Constance sighed. “To be honest, he never tried. I joked at his sister’s wedding that he would finally be able to concentrate on finding a wife—I think I made him uncomfortable. But he muttered something about a farmer like him not having much of a chance of turning heads.”

  Elinor was shocked. “How is that possible? Does he not realize how handsome he is? How kind, how smart, how generous, how sweet…?”

  “I agree, he’s all those things. I couldn’t say if he sees those things in himself or not. But he’s not completely wrong. Marriage in Montana Territory—I mean, the state of Montana—is not like it is back East. Out here, the selection of a husband can mean the difference between a comfortable life in town, with everything a person could need within walking distance, or eking out an existence in the mountains or out on the plains, where a snowstorm could trap you at home for weeks on end, game can become scarce, a hard winter can kill off your livestock, predatory animals could attack your children, a wildfire could raze your home, or a drought could de
cimate your crops. Even starvation is a possibility, if you’re trapped too long without a full pantry. Becoming the wife of a miner, rancher, farmer, or trapper means never knowing what life has in store for you. It means hardship and privation, at times. For some, it is never-ending hardship. With men outnumbering the women two to one, it’s no wonder that every mother wants her daughter to marry someone with a more secure financial future. With the odds in a young lady’s favor, it only makes sense to secure the most stable match you can.”

  “I had no idea it could be so…perilous.” For Boston area farmers, as far as she knew, the biggest fear was poor weather causing the failure of their crops. She hadn’t realized how much of a challenge it could be out on the frontier when a person lived far from town. Will our children be at risk of starvation? She had assumed farm life might be hard at times, but she didn’t realize it could be life-threatening. “I suppose if women are being pushed by their mothers to make safer marriage choices, then it makes sense why a man like Gideon would consider a mail order bride.”

  “It really does. I do think Gideon could have found himself a wife, in time—if he would have stopped working himself to death and had taken the time to do it. He owns a nice piece of land, and it’s fairly close to town—from here, the ride is only an hour or so into Helena, in favorable weather. He’s been smart, starting a hay farm immediately after the hard winter three years ago, and he’s earned himself a reputation of selling quality hay at a fair price, even in mid-winter, if he has any left. A man with business sense like that is a commendable choice for a mate, for anyone willing to consider a farmer.”

  “Not only that, he’ll be expanding into sheep,” Elinor proclaimed, proud of her husband’s keen eye for market trends. “The few sheep he has now is just a start—we both would like to have a large flock.”

  “Certainly a smart choice. A lot of ranchers are switching over to sheep, after that terrible winter. Easier to care for, and they survived that harsh winter better than the cattle did, because they eat less. And of course, they’ve got those wooly coats.”

  “Ohhh, I know! Aren’t they just precious?”

  Constance laughed. “You say that because you haven’t had to pick the burrs from their coats, or comb the wool after shearing time. It’s quite a job. We had a small flock for a while. I was enamored with the idea of carding and spinning my own wool.” She laughed heartily. “Now I buy all my yarn in town.”

  “I don’t care. I think they’re divine.” Elinor sighed happily, thinking of the spring, when she could hold baby lambs in her lap. “I spent every spare moment this week either in the fields with the sheep or in the barn holding the chicks.”

  “You and Gideon sure do make a pair, don’t you?”

  “I like to think so,” she smiled, and felt a blush creep up her neck. “I knew as soon as I read his first letter, I knew this was the man and the life I had always dreamed of.” Elinor left out the part where the letters hadn’t been addressed to her, but to the real Addie. It doesn’t matter, she thought, we were meant to be!

  “I had no idea! How fortunate the two of you are, Adelaide! I’d imagine most of these mail order bride arrangements are just marriages of convenience. I didn’t think they could end up being truly loving marriages.”

  “I’m sure some don’t, but Mrs. Porter is quite careful selecting and matching up her brides and bachelors. She says sometimes things start off a bit rough, but so far every couple has ended up very happy in their arrangements.” Elinor wondered if Gideon would have been happy with Addie.

  “Hm.” Constance pursed her lips. “Sounds to me like that Mrs. Porter is just selling herself, implying that her matchmaking services will always bring the perfect match.”

  “Perhaps. But I can only say that I’m thrilled with my match.” She looked away, flushing. “I only hope Gideon feels the same way.”

  “I’m sure he does. Who wouldn’t be happy with a winsome girl you, especially one who can cook and bake, and has such an agreeable temperament? You have everything a man could want.”

  “Not exactly,” Elinor said, knowing none of that was true.

  Constance smiled warmly. “I know you’re worried about your sewing skills, but that’s what you’re here for! I’ll have you whipping up clothing and curtains in no time! Speaking of, let’s get started on the sewing before we run out of time, because I’ll need time to get my sourdough rolls in the oven once they get done with this final rise.”

  “Am I troubling you? I don’t mean to take you away from your duties.”

  “Not at all. I’m bored to death, rattling around this empty house all day, now that all my ‘chicks’ have flown the coop. I have plenty of time in the afternoons, whenever you want to visit or have a sewing lesson. You could even bring over some baking supplies, and we could do a big weekly baking session together! If you don’t tire of me, that is.”

  Elinor’s lip trembled, and she blinked back the tears that threatened.

  “What is it dear?”

  She shook her head. “It’s…just that…” her mind whirled with her worries, and she couldn’t come up with an excuse for her odd reaction. She couldn’t possibly bake alongside such an accomplished baker! Her ineptitude would be discovered in short order.

  “Have you tired of me already?” Constance teased. “I know I talk too much sometimes.” She patted Elinor’s back, and was surprised when Elinor burst into tears. “There, there, my dear, I was only joking.”

  “It’s n-not th-that,” Elinor stuttered in between great gasping sobs. “I just…I’m awful. I’m truly awful!”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Elinor pulled out a lace-trimmed handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. Then she spied her initials embroidered in the corner: ET. That only made her feel more like a fraud as she folded the handkerchief to hide evidence of her true identity. “I’m fine, really, let’s just get started—”

  “Wait…no…you’re too upset. What’s all this about? Is it just the sewing? Or is there something else?”

  Elinor froze. “Really, we should—”

  “Adelaide Cartwright, if you’re going to drop something in my lap like that, the least you can do is let me help you.” Constance wagged a finger at her. “Now, what’s wrong?”

  Elinor sighed. “It’s not just the sewing. I…” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed….I …I can’t bake either.”

  “Oh…dear.”

  “And I don’t cook all that well. I just…I know it was wrong, so very wrong, but I wanted to marry him so badly. If he f-finds out…” she burst into tears again, the sobs wracking her body. When she was able to regain control, she wiped her nose, sniffling. “I’m a terrible wife and a terrible person, and if Gideon finds out he’ll pack me up and send me back to Boston on the first train.” Then Elinor covered her mouth with her hands, realizing her mistake. This woman considered Gideon to be like family, and she’d just confessed half of her secret. “I—I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Of course you should have! What sort of a marriage can there be, if you keep lying to him, and pretending that everything is fine? He’s bound to notice sooner or later, if he hasn’t already.”

  “I…I think he’s just assuming that I’m having trouble getting adjusted to my new surroundings, and a new kitchen. But…oh, you’re right, he’ll find out soon enough. He’ll hate me!” The sobs came again.

  Constance reached over and patted her hand. “Gideon Cartwright is a congenial man. He won’t hate you. He might be a bit…perturbed…but I’m sure he’ll understand once you explain it. Sometimes we make decisions with our hearts that aren’t the best one. When I met Orville, I actually already had a beau. I wasn’t allowing both to court me at one time,” she rushed to add, “as soon as I laid eyes on Orville, I knew he was the one. I was so enamored with him that when he asked, I told him I wasn’t seeing anyone. The words just seemed to pop right out of my m
outh. He asked if he could come by my home and visit me the next day, and I said yes. Then I went straight home and told my family I was no longer seeing the first boy, and I went to the boy’s house to end the courtship. I felt terrible about it, and I never told Orville until after we were married. I was terrified that he might think I was fickle.”

  “How did he take it?” Elinor sniffed, then wiped more tears away.

  “He laughed, and said he felt bad for the poor fellow, but he was tickled that I’d thrown over another beau for him. It made him feel a bit proud,” she giggled. Then her expression grew more somber. “I think your situation is a little more serious, but I’ve known Gideon for three years now, and I’m sure he will forgive you—especially when he sees how hard you’ll be working to improve. You come over Wednesday and I’ll show you an easy receipt that my mother handed down to me. We’ll assess your cooking skills, and work on the areas you’re most lacking.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t let you—”

  “You can, and you will. And you’ll be doing me a favor, too. If you can’t cook for your man, sooner or later he’ll show up at my table.” She winked at Elinor. “And we can’t have that, can we?”

  Elinor smiled through the last of her tears. “No, indeed.”

  “What I don’t understand is how you grew up in an Irish household of nine, and never learned how to cook!”

  “Well…I suppose I implied that I helped out…more than I did.” Elinor had helped cook in the McGilvray household perhaps only a half-dozen times in the last two years, when she was visiting Addie, and it was Addie’s turn to cook. “Thank you, Constance. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “Don’t mention it. I still remember what it was like to be a new bride, and be eager to please my husband. I was so nervous, I swear, I burned every meal for a week. And there was no excuse for it—I had four younger brothers who ate like pigs, and I helped my mother with supper every night. But I still burned the first several meals. So don’t fret. Can you bake at all?”