Christine Johnson - Mail Order Mix-Up

Amanda sucked in her breath. “If I only had a pretty necklace. Not just this old half of a locket.” She touched the tiny silver pendant hanging around her neck on a silver chain.

“The locket is perfect, for it invites conversation. Garrett will want to know where the other half is, and then you can tell him about your brother.”

Amanda’s eyes shone. “Maybe he will help me search for him.”

“Perhaps he will.”

Pearl smiled for her friend’s benefit, but Garrett hadn’t been the brother to travel to Chicago. Roland seemed more likely to take on such an adventure—provided it fit into his plans. That man was impossible to pin down.

“You don’t think he will.” Amanda’s crestfallen expression told Pearl she’d let her thoughts run wild again.

She mustered another smile. “Everything will work out for the best. Now, let’s get you ready for supper. We don’t want Roland showing up before you’re picture-perfect.”

* * *

“What did you do?” Garrett growled once they reached the mercantile’s stockroom. “Off to Chicago on another one of your larks and you bring back four women who seem to think I’m going to marry one of them.”

Roland struggled to stifle a grin. If this whole situation didn’t threaten to start a war between the men and women, it would be hilarious. Unfortunately, he and his brother were outnumbered and, in spite of Garrett’s current irritation, out-enraged.

“Well,” Garrett demanded. “Spit it out. What do you mean by bringing those ladies to Singapore?”

Roland shrugged, as if it meant nothing. “First of all, Pearl Lawson was hired to teach school. You must have known that.”

Garrett simmered down a bit. “I forgot her name.” He shuffled his feet against the rough plank flooring. “Or maybe I never heard it. It’s not like I’m on the committee that makes the decisions.”

“You sit in on the meetings. We’ve had to bring Isaac and Sadie to Mrs. Calloway so you could attend.”

“That doesn’t explain the other three women.”

Roland slapped his hat onto the hat rack, slipped from his good suit jacket and donned an apron. Three days away meant he’d have a lot of work to accomplish in the store and not much time left in this work day.

“I can’t explain the other three.” Roland couldn’t hide the chuckle. His brother would have his hands full with those ladies. Garrett should have thought of that before placing the advertisement. He looked his brother in the eye. “They seem to have some misguided idea that you are looking for a wife.”

“I’m not, and you know it!” Garrett stormed, his face beet red.

As a child, Roland had enjoyed teasing his older brother until Garrett’s temper blew like a steam whistle. Ma and Pa had frowned on Roland’s shenanigans, but he never got the strap. Now that Garrett was older and beefier, he looked like he could tear off a man’s head. Roland knew better. Garrett subscribed to that turn-the-other-cheek nonsense from the Bible. Roland did not let people trample on him. He wouldn’t mind seeing his brother squirm, though. Garrett needed a wife, whether he realized it or not.

He pulled Pearl’s crumpled newspaper advertisement from his watch pocket and spread it on the counter before his brother. “Maybe you can tell me why you placed this, then.”

Garrett stared at him a moment before reading the advertisement. He hung over it so long that he must have read it ten times. “Where did you get this?”

“Pearl had it. Apparently it appeared in the New York newspaper, but then you know that.”

“I do not.” Garrett backed away from the advertisement as if it had been dipped in poison. “I sure didn’t put it in the newspaper.” He waved toward the clipping with his index finger. “You’re the one who wrote it. Don’t go trying to put the blame on me. This is your problem. You fix it.”

“That’s why I invited the ladies to supper tonight.”

“That isn’t fixing anything—it’s stoking the fire!”

A chuckle escaped, and Garrett nearly connected on a blow to Roland’s shoulder.

“Whoa!” Roland stepped back, hands up in surrender. “I figured we could clear everything up once and for all. Then the ladies can head back to New York on the next boat out of here.”

That quieted his brother for a few seconds before worry returned. “What if they won’t leave?”

Roland rather hoped that would be the case for at least one of the women, though which one suited his brother best was still in question. Thus the supper.

“I’m sure they’re reasonable. Once you tell them that you did not place the advertisement—”

“You did it!”

“I didn’t. But someone clearly did, someone who knew about my little joke. Did you tell anyone about it?”

Garrett flushed. “I might have mentioned something at the mill.”

That might have explained it except that the advertisement followed his joke word for word. No sawmill worker would be able to recount each word, even if Garrett had. “If neither one of us placed the advertisement, how it got there is a mystery. One I intend to get to the bottom of tonight.”

Garrett sighed, resigned. “Should I ask Mrs. Calloway to watch the children?”

“Sure—no.” The brilliant idea he’d had earlier popped back into his head. “The advertisement doesn’t say anything about children. None of them realizes you have a son and daughter. I’ll introduce Isaac and Sadie. You watch each woman’s reaction. You’ll want a woman who loves children.”

The sudden ache in his heart couldn’t be that he feared who that woman would be. Pearl. As schoolteacher, she would have a natural affinity for children.

“You’re forgetting something.” Garrett was scowling again. “I don’t want to get married.”

* * *

As promised, Roland met them at them at the boardinghouse at precisely six o’clock. Pearl commanded the top porch step beside Amanda, whose raven curls far outshone Fiona’s satin gown. The rival had donned a more tasteful sapphire-blue this evening. In comparison, Louise and Pearl faded into the background. Yet Pearl couldn’t help but notice that Roland’s gaze landed first and longest on her.

“Good evening, ladies.”

He headed for Pearl, but Fiona glided down the wide steps to meet him first, all smiles and chatter. Pearl, Amanda and Louise had to trail behind Roland and the talkative redhead, taking care not to snag a hem on the rough wooden boardwalk.

Pearl lifted her brown gingham skirts a couple inches and placed each sturdy boot in the middle of the board. Unlike the wharves, the boards had been laid lengthwise on occasional crosswise planks. Though sand crested onto the boards in some places, in other areas the long boards drooped above the sand, creating an unsteady platform.

Amanda stepped off the edge and teetered precariously before Pearl reeled her back in.

“This is as unstable as the ship,” Louise commented in that soft voice of hers.

That had to be the most Louise Smythe had said since Pearl met her. The woman did have the sense not to drag a book with her tonight, but she, like Pearl, had not worn her Sunday best. That gave Amanda the advantage, especially if Fiona continued to claim Roland’s attention.

At present, Amanda’s face blazed, either from the late-afternoon heat rising off the sand or from embarrassment. Either way, she needed to regain control before they met Garrett Decker. Louise’s comment had been meant kindly, but lately Amanda took everything in the worst way.

Pearl sighed and wrapped her arm around Amanda’s. “It’s better than walking in the sand. Think how that would get in your shoes.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Pearl eyed the redhead, who now clung to Roland’s arm and leaned closer by the minute. Her laughter and vivaciousness rubbed Pearl the wrong way. The fact that he looked her way repeatedly poured vinegar into the wound.