Christine Johnson - Mail Order Mix-Up

Garrett gazed at Pearl’s retreating back. “Seems like a decent schoolteacher.”

“The children will like her.” Roland had to settle that point before he got to the next. “I had ample time to talk with her aboard ship. She will do well. But there’s another matter we need to discuss, and we haven’t much time.”

In fact, the three bride hopefuls were staring at him as Pearl talked. It wouldn’t take long before they realized Garrett was the object of their hopes. He doubted even Pearl could hold them back then.

“No investors?” Garrett asked.

Roland shook his head. “That’s not it. I’ve brought Edward Holmes to look over the project site and layout of the land.” A second urgent thought occurred to him. “In fact, I’m hoping you can join us. He will be impressed by your work. I could convince him that you should be the factory manager.”

“Manager?” Garrett’s brow creased as if the job was the worst he could imagine.

“Added responsibility comes with additional wages.”

Garrett scowled. “If I told you once, I told you a thousand times. I’m not interested in managing anything. I like to work with my hands.”

“Mr. Decker!” The fiery Fiona O’Keefe interjected herself into their discussion without waiting for introductions.

Roland shouldn’t have expected less. After all, she had done the same with him. This time, her attention centered on Garrett, whose ordinarily ruddy complexion grew even more so at the sight of the elegantly dressed redhead. As usual, Roland’s brother was at a loss for words.

“Garrett, may I introduce Miss Fiona O’Keefe.” Roland gestured to the redhead and then proceeded to introduce the other women. His gaze drifted to Pearl, who hung outside the ring of anxious women, but she was scanning the town.

Garrett cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “Pleased to meet you, ladies.” He managed to look each one in the eye but showed no sign of particular interest in any of them. “What brings you to town?”

Roland groaned. That meant his brother either did not place the advertisement or had forgotten about it. Unfortunately, Roland had not had time to tell Garrett what to expect. Judging by the expression on Fiona’s face, he would soon feel the wrath of four upset women if Roland didn’t step in.

“Now, ladies, shouldn’t you settle in at the hotel or boardinghouse before we get down to business?”

“Business?” Garrett questioned, so obviously perplexed that Roland pitied him.

“We most certainly will not,” Fiona stated. “We have come all the way from New York in answer to this.” She waved the advertisement in front of Garrett’s nose. “And we expect an answer.”

Roland’s brother blanched. “An answer to what?”

This was going in a terrible direction, and to make matters worse, Holmes had drawn close enough to overhear the entire discussion. If this went the way Roland expected, his brother would lose the goodwill of four women, and Roland would lose an investor.

“Now, now,” he said calmly. “You can’t expect my brother to make a decision without getting to know each of you.”

“A decision on what?” Garrett asked.

But Roland had managed to quiet the fire in Fiona O’Keefe’s eyes.

Her anger subsided. “I suppose you’re right. When do you want to begin getting to know us? At dinner this afternoon?”

“Uh, uh,” Garrett stammered, backing away.

Roland noticed Pearl’s expressive lips begin to tilt upward. He might be able to save both his project and his brother. “Supper would be better. If you ladies agree, we would be delighted to invite you all to supper tonight.”

“We would?” Garrett said.

“Yes, we would.” If nothing else, it would give the women their first glimpse of the children—a detail not mentioned in the advertisement. “The invitation extends to you, too, Miss Lawson. Shall we say six o’clock? I shall personally escort all of you from your lodgings.”

Pearl nodded slightly. “We will be at the boardinghouse.”

Amanda and Louise Smythe drank in his words without question.

Fiona O’Keefe relented. “Very well, then, we shall see you tonight at the boardinghouse.” She turned her gaze back to Garrett. “But I expect a decision soon, Mr. Decker.”

“Decision on what?” Garrett choked out.

Roland motioned for his brother to stop, but he must not have noticed, for he plowed right on.

“I can’t see what decision I could make that would affect you ladies.”

Fiona O’Keefe twirled her parasol and cast Garrett a provocative smile. “Why, which one of us will become your wife, of course.”

Chapter Four

“What will we do?” Amanda blurted once they’d reached the sanctity of their room in the boardinghouse.

Pearl scanned the sparse furnishings. “We will have to share the bed, just like in the orphanage.” She pulled open each of the four drawers in the bureau. Though battered, it was clean and free of insects. “There’s more than enough room for our belongings, and our Sunday dresses can hang on the pegs. I will have to do all my planning for classes at the school, but that’s neither here nor there. Yes. We will make do.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant for tonight. With all of us together, how will I ever make a good impression?”

Pearl settled beside her friend on the rather lumpy mattress, which at least felt like a feather tick rather than straw or horsehair. “You can’t help but make a good impression. My concern is if Garrett Decker made a favorable impression on you.”

Amanda blushed and picked at a thread on her skirt. “He is rather different from his brother, isn’t he?”

“In looks, yes, but we mustn’t judge a man on looks alone.”

“Of course not.” Still, Amanda scrunched her face. “He didn’t seem at all pleased to see us.”

Pearl had noticed that. Rather than answer Fiona’s direct question, he had hurried off on the pretense of needing to return to work at the mill. The glare he’d shot at Roland hadn’t escaped her notice, either. He did not think much of inviting the four ladies to sup with them. She was a little leery, too. Bringing all of them together at once meant just one thing.

“I fear we will be put to the test tonight.”

Amanda blanched. “Will he ask us questions? What should I say about the Chatsworths...and Hugh?”

“Nothing. It’s none of their business.”

“But it would be if we married.”

“Even if you and Garrett are a perfect match, you won’t be getting married tonight. If you ask me, since he is the one who placed the advertisement, he’s the one who needs to do the talking. Once you’re convinced he would make a good husband, then you can reveal more details about yourself.”

“But no man likes to hear that his intended was rejected by another. And then there’s the orphanage.”

Pearl hugged her friend. “If he’s a godly man, those things won’t make one bit of difference. If they do, then he’s not the man for you.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who wants to marry.”

An image of Roland flashed through Pearl’s mind, but that was pure foolishness. He’d made it clear that he would not marry, and she was prohibited from doing so. Restless, she walked to the window, which overlooked the smattering of houses on the sandy streets.

“Do you believe all things will work for the best for those who love the Lord?” Nothing was turning out as planned. Pearl hoped that didn’t extend to her teaching position.

“O-of course.”

“It will work out. You must believe that.”

“I hope so.” Yet Amanda’s shoulders drooped.

Pearl must bolster her friend’s confidence. “You will wear your Sunday dress, and I will ask Mrs. Calloway if she has any curling tongs.”