Debra Ullrick - Groom Wanted

“You don’t have to. You can have her come here.”

His hand dropped to the table. He frowned. “Why didn’t Michael do that?”

“Because Selina’s father wouldn’t let her leave until she was married. Michael had prayed about it and had peace so he married her sight unseen.”

Jake scooted back his chair, scraping it against the rough wood floor, and rose. Leah’s eyes trailed up his tall, broad frame, wondering what he was doing.

He went to the sink, which she noticed was stacked with what she presumed to be dirty dishes, though a large towel covered them. Nervousness permeated his every movement. “I know I already asked you this once, but would you like something to drink now?”

“Yes. Thank you. A glass of water would be great.” Her mouth felt dry as trail dust. She watched as he held the glass under the spout and raised and lowered the water pump handle in the sink. His broad shoulders and arm muscles bulged as he filled the glass. Only a few drips of water landed onto the dish towel. She hoped to find someone as tall as Jake. He had to be at least six-foot-four or -five. And at five-foot-eight-and-a-half, she was either the same height as most of the men she knew or taller. The thought of being taller than the man she married bothered her.

Jake turned and walked back toward her. What a fine male specimen he was. He would make some woman a good husband. Of that she was certain.

He set a glass of water in front of her and one in front of himself before lowering his bulky frame onto the chair. Worry creased his forehead. This time she thought she knew why.

Wanting to put his mind at ease, she laid her hand on top of his arm, and his hard muscle jumped under her fingertips. She removed her hand and rested it on the table in front of her. “Listen, Jake. Before you get too involved with someone, you could always make it clear you want to meet them in person and spend time getting to know them before either of you make any real commitment. And...” She sat back in her chair. “I don’t know what your financial situation is, but you could inform her that you would send her a round-trip ticket in case things don’t work out.”

His shoulders relaxed and the creases in his forehead disappeared. “That’s a good idea. Think someone would do that?”

“Of course they would. It’s done all the time. I know I’m going to. There is no way I’m going to marry someone without meeting him and without spending time with him and his family first.”

“You scared, Leah?”

Was she? “A little. But the sooner I get away from here, the happier I’ll be.”

“You sure about that? Won’t you miss your family?”

“Yes and yes. To be perfectly honest, the idea of staying here bothers me more than the idea of missing my family or the fear of the unknown does. I actually find that part rather thrilling.”

“What do you find thrilling?”

“The fear of the unknown.”

He narrowed his eyes and searched hers. “Why do you dislike it here so much?”

She shrugged, wishing she could confide in him about the nightmares and just why she hated this place as much as she did. But she didn’t want him to think she was being silly like Marie had, so she used her standard reply. “I miss New York City and the lifestyle I used to have back then. Plus, I want some excitement in my life. As crazy as this may sound, I crave adventure.” That part was true. She could use some adventure in her life.

“The Idaho Territory doesn’t provide you with enough adventure?” A hint of humor warbled his voice.

“No. It’s so boring here. Nothing exciting ever happens.”

“You don’t call the war with Nez Perce Indians exciting?” His blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

“There was nothing exciting about that war. Frightening was more like it.” She shifted in her seat. “But I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s take a look at those letters. Would you like to read them first, or do you want me to?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you read them.” Jake opened the envelope from Tennessee and gave the letter to Leah.

Leah could hardly decipher the sloppy penmanship. “Hello, my name is Betsy. I’m a single mother of four young children.”

“Whoa.” Jake’s hand flew up. “Forget that one. Not ready to be a father yet. Especially to a herd of kids.” He frowned. “How old is she, anyway? Does she say?”

Leah scanned the letter. “She’s thirty-nine.”

His eyes widened. “Thirty-nine? That’s eleven years older than me. No, thank you.” He tugged the letter from her hands and ripped it into several pieces before setting the shredded pile far from him.

Leah took the liberty of going through his stack of posts. She couldn’t believe how many women were looking for husbands. “How about this one? The postmark is from Mississippi.”

He shrugged, then nodded.

“Dear Mr. Lure. Me name is Samantha O’Sullivan. I be twenty-seven years old, six feet tall and one hundred and twenty pounds. Me hair is fiery red and me eyes are brown. Me pa said I must be gettin’ married soon afore I become an ole maid. I dinna want to wed, but me pa said if I dinna and dinna write to you that he would toss me backside outta the house.”

Leah looked over at Jake and put on her most serious face. “I think she sounds just like what you’re looking for. You should write her back right away.”

“You—you do?” The shock on his face pulled a guffaw out of Leah.

“No, no. Don’t look so worried. I’m just teasing you, Jake.”

Relief flooded over his face and his taut lips relaxed. “Whew. Had me worried there for a moment.”

Leah sat up straight and in her best Irish imitation she said, “Blimey, Mister Jake. Ye must pick me. Aye, ye must, even tho’ I dinna wanna marry. And even tho’ me be gone in da head for even tellin’ ye such a thang in da first place, won’t ye please consider sendin’ fer me anyway and spare me from becomin’ an ole maid?”

She laughed and so did Jake, but his laughter had a nervous flutter to it.

Seconds later, Jake shredded that letter, too. “Next.”

Leah continued reading the responses he’d received. Each one was worst than the first, but Jake didn’t shred any more of them— He just stacked them in a pile. She opened the last one and a photograph slipped out. Leah picked it up and her mouth fell open.

“What you got there?” Jake asked.

Leah slid her attention from the photo and onto him. “She sent you a picture.”

“Who did?”

Leah handed the picture to him and looked at the signature at the bottom of the letter. “Evie Scott. She’s very lovely, isn’t she?”

“Yep, she’s pretty.” He said it with very little enthusiasm.

Was the man blind or something? The woman was striking, and yet Jake seemed unfazed by her beauty.

He laid the photo on the kitchen table. “Don’t care what a person looks like. I care about the type of person they are in here.” He pointed to his heart. “What’s her letter say?”

Leah drew in a breath and read the letter. “Dear Mr. Lure. My name is Evie Scott. As you see, I have enclosed a photograph of myself. I am twenty-two years old, five-feet-seven inches tall. Ever since the War Between the States, men have been scarce out here in Alabama. It is my desire to marry and to raise a family. I am willing to travel out West and marry straightaway, or if you so desire, we can spend time getting to know one another first before a commitment is made by either one of us. Of course, I will expect proper accommodations for a lady of my standing and—”

“Whoa. Stop right there,” Jake interrupted.

Leah looked at Jake. “What’s the matter?”

“Heard enough. She’s not someone I’d consider marrying.”