Betsy's Hope (Mail-Order Brides Of Prairie Meadow 2)
Betsy’s Hope
(Mail Order Brides of Prairie Meadow - Book 2)
By: Maggie McCloud
Copyright © 2015 Maggie McCloud
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons whether living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, businesses, events, etc. are strictly a product of the author’s imagination.
If you love reading about Mail Order Brides, you will enjoy the sweet, clean, inspirational romances of Maggie McCloud.
And they are always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
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Other Books In This Series
Kathleen’s Dream: Mail Order Brides Of Prairie Meadow – Book 1
Annie’s Chance: Mail Order Brides Of Prairie Meadow – Book 3
Claire’s Escape: Mail Order Brides Of Prairie Meadow – Book 4 (Coming in Dec.)
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
A Message From Maggie McCloud
Other Books By Maggie McCloud
Bonus Chapter – Annie’s Chance
Chapter 1
Betsy McIntyre was up to her elbows in dishwater, again. The promise of a job in the swanky downtown restaurant was not at all living up to her expectations. She had gone against her parents’ wishes by taking this job. Her father had told her that if she left, she need not come back.
“ You’re disgracing your family Betsy, you are. An unmarried woman does not go off from her family to live on her own. So, don’t think you can just come back home if this doesn’t work out. We won’t be having you back this time.”
But of course being her usual impulsive self, she had not thought things through properly and had exchanged cross words with her father. Now there was no going back, especially since this wasn’t the first time she’d had a disagreement like this with him. This time she had truly burned her bridges, as far as her parents were concerned.
She blew some stray hair out of her eyes, sweating in the hot airless kitchen. When she’d asked Mr. Jamison, her boss, when she would be able to start waiting tables, he’d just laughed in her face and said, “ The chances of you ever doing that are slim to none, until you can prove your worth with a sink full of dirty dishes.”
“But, I was promised a job working in the main dining room,” she protested.
“Yes and you will notice Betsy, that the person who made that promise is no longer employed here.”
Her heart sank. Yes, she had noticed that. But she had thought that being put to work as a dishwasher was a mistake that would quickly be corrected when she pointed it out to Mr. Jamison.
“Them dishes ain’t gonna wash themselves, Betsy,” growled Mr. Abbott, her slave driver of a kitchen boss. “Get a move on or I’ll find somebody who will.”
“Sorry, Mr. Abbott,” said Betsy washing the dishes with renewed vigor with Mr. Abbott breathing down her neck. As much as she hated this job, she could not afford to lose it. If she got fired she would have to move out of the staff quarters and she didn’t know where she would go if that happened.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Abbott finally moved away. Her friend Martha, who was responsible for drying the dishes that Betsy washed, shot her a sympathetic look and after looking around, whispered, “Don’t let him get to you Betsy.”
If it weren’t for Martha she didn’t know how she would get through these days. And after the day’s work was done, the two were as close as two peas in a pod.
In fact it was just a week or so ago that she and Martha had been sitting on a bench close to the restaurant, talking. There was no getting around the fact that they were both fed up and discouraged. Martha too had been hired under false pretenses and she was no closer to becoming a waitress than Betsy was.
Both girls had hoped that working in what they thought of, as a glamorous job, would help them to meet the man of their dreams. But there was no chance of that happening, stuck in the kitchen as they were.
As they chatted, Betsy picked up a newspaper that had been left on the bench and started to idly turn the pages. An advertisement for Mail Order Brides caught her attention.
Excited, she showed Martha, “Look at this Martha. The Western Marriage Agency is searching for women who are looking for husbands.”
“That sounds like us, Betsy! What else does it say?”
“Have you ever heard of mail order brides, Martha? That’s what they are calling the program.” Betsy kept reading. “If we’re interested, we are to go to the office. They have letters on file from men who live out west and are looking for women who would be willing to move out there and marry them.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to go and see what they have to say. I’m glad we both have the day after tomorrow off. Let’s go then,” said Martha.
And so it was that Betsy and Martha found themselves at the Western Marriage Agency on their day off. They had put on their best clothes so as to make a good impression. Mrs. Simpson, the owner, was happy they had made the effort, but she didn’t believe in sugar coating things. She thought that if a woman was going to be happy becoming a mail order bride, she should know the real story.
After interviewing each young woman, she filled them in on the challenges and hardships involved, not the least of which was leaving the surroundings they were used to, as well as family and friends. Betsy was not deterred with what she heard, but Martha was definitely not as thrilled with the whole idea.
“You two girls go home and think over what I have told you. It is a huge change. If you still think you’d be interested, then come back and see me and we’ll talk again.”
Before she even left the premises, Betsy had made up her mind that she was going to do it; she was going to become a mail order bride. On their way back to the staff quarters, Betsy told Martha her decision, “I’ll miss you Martha, but there is really nothing else holding me here.”
Martha confessed that she had changed her mind about becoming a mail order bride. She felt badly that she wouldn’t be joining her friend in the adventure. “It’s not like I thought it would be, I guess, Betsy. I think I’m going to stick around here at the restaurant for a while longer and see if Mr. Jamison will put me in the dining room. But if he doesn’t, then once you leave, I will probably just go home and move back in with my mother.”
Over the course of the next week, Betsy thought long and hard about becoming a mail order bride. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became at the prospect. On her next day off, she returned to the Agency. Mrs. Simpson was delighted. “I thought you would probably come back, but I’m not surprised that your friend changed her mind. I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
After sitting down together, she said, “There are two potential husbands I think you might find interesting. John Masterson has a farm in Prairie Meadow, Kansas. Michael Cassidy lives on a ranch in Wyoming.”
“But, how can I possibly know which one might be best for me?”
Mrs. Simpson smiled, “That’s where I come in. From what you have told me about yourself and your family, I think Mr. Masterson
might be the better match for you. But take a look at the information I have put together and read the letter each has written. Then you can decide if you would like to write to either of them. Since meeting them at this stage is not possible, letter writing is the best way to learn more about a person.”
Mrs. Simpson stood up. “Do you have any questions about any of this? If not, then I shall leave you to read. Let me know what you decide.”
Betsy carefully read both letters over. Although the idea of living on a ranch appealed to her, she decided against Michael Cassidy. She knew that Wyoming had very long, frigid winters and she hated being cold. She shivered just thinking about it. Kansas and John Masterson sounded like a much better option. If he had a farm of his own, surely he would have a cozy house to go along with it.
“Mrs. Simpson, you were right in thinking that I would prefer Mr. Masterson. I would like to write him a letter if I may.”
“That’s just fine, Betsy. Since mail delivery is quite slow, be sure to provide as many details about yourself as possible. If he is satisfied with what you have to say, he may be eager to send for you right away. Would that be satisfactory or do you wish to correspond with him longer?”
Betsey thought for a moment and made a quick decision. “I think Mr. Masterson sounds like the right man for me. I would be happy to move out there as soon as it can be arranged, if he is in agreement.”
“In that case,” said Mrs. Simpson, “once he is in touch, I will arrange for him to send you a train ticket and some extra money to cover your travel expenses.”
Betsy was so excited once she left the office that she decided to splurge a little. She wanted to start on her letter right away and she knew just the spot to do that.
The waitress seated Betsy in a quiet corner booth and took her order for coffee and a piece of cherry pie with ice cream. Over the course of the next two hours, Betsy carefully worded her letter to John Masterson.
She wanted to be honest with him, but at the same time she wanted to make a good impression. So she stretched the truth when it came to her background and her family, just as she’d done with Mrs. Simpson.
He didn’t really need to know that her family had servants and that she had never so much as baked a loaf of bread or washed her own clothes before, did he? After all, she was resourceful, so if she wasn’t able to do everything a farmer’s wife could right from the start; she figured she could learn in short order.
Chapter 2
After coming back from the California gold fields broke and discouraged, John Masterson had moved in with his sister Emily and her husband Henry Parker. Henry and Emily had a good-sized spread. Henry raised cattle on the farm, and a few times a year he drove part of his herd to the stockyards in Wichita. From there the cattle were shipped back East by rail.
John had inherited his parents’ farm in Prairie Meadow when they passed away, eight years ago. His pa had died first and his ma had followed only four months later. He’d tried to keep things going after their death, but without his pa there to work side by side with him, he’d lost interest in the farm.
His sister Emily knew that he was at loose ends. She’d tried her best to help him, but once she married and moved to Henry’s spread, it was even lonelier for John. Although he’d been invited to move in with the newlyweds at the time, he knew he couldn’t do that.
When he told Emily that he wanted to go to California because of the gold rush, she gave him her blessing even though she had deep reservations about his plan. But she knew he was unhappy and hoped this would change things for him.
That had been almost four years ago. At first, things had gone well for John as he prospected for gold. He had been lucky enough to come across several nuggets in a stream close to where he had first started looking for gold. The money he got for that gold got him noticed and word of his good fortune travelled fast. It wasn’t long before he was approached by a miner who said that he had a rich claim, which he was willing to sell for the right price. He brought John to his claim where John discovered some good-sized nuggets just lying in the stream waiting to be scooped up.
The miner said his claim had made him rich and so he was heading back East with his fortune. John couldn’t believe his good fortune to have stumbled upon this claim and to have the money to take advantage of it. He knew that most men spent years looking for their pot of gold. The two returned to town where the claim was transferred over to John.
John wasted no time in buying supplies and equipment to work his claim. By the time he was finished, he’d spent almost all of what was left of his money. But he wasn’t really worried because he knew that more gold was lying there in that rich vein just waiting for him to find it. And he did find a few good-sized nuggets, at first. But as he worked his claim, he realized that he’d been swindled. The miner had seeded the claim with small chunks of gold in order to sell it. Once John located these chunks there was little else to be found as he worked the claim.
But John was stubborn and he refused to give up. He was sure that there had to be gold buried deeper, so he borrowed money to buy some new equipment to help with the digging. In return for the cash, the only thing John had to offer was the farm property he had inherited back in Kansas. He signed a note transferring ownership of the farm to his lender, James Calder, with the stipulation that he could buy back the note by paying off his debt.
John had returned to Kansas and his sister’s place, intending to live in the house that his pa had built. He hoped to be able to earn enough money to repay his debt before James came to collect. He was too ashamed of what he’d done to tell Emily that their parents’ farm was no longer in the family.
Emily had been surprised but happy to welcome John back home. Unfortunately she had some bad news to share with him when he arrived.
“John, I don’t quite know how to tell you this, but Ma and Pa’s house burnt down while you were out in California. I would have written but you never left an address where we could reach you.”
John was stunned. Never in his wildest imaginings had he ever thought of something like this happening. His mind swirled around trying to come to grips with the news.
“When you sent that telegram letting us know you were coming back, Henry and a few of the neighbors put up a small cabin for you. You’re more than welcome to stay here with us for as long as you want to. But once you plant your crops you’ll probably want to be closer to your spread.”
Emily reached out and squeezed her brother’s hand. “Don’t worry. You can rebuild the house later on. You know Henry and I will be glad to help. The good news is that the barn is still standing and there is still a lot of pa’s old farm equipment in there.”
Henry added, “We can lend you a team to work your fields and get you started with some seed.”
When John started to protest, Henry cut him off. “You’re family John and that’s what families do for each other. You can pay us back when your crop comes in.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said John. “It means a lot to come back here after all this time and be welcomed like this.”
Over the next few days as the three got caught up on the happenings of the past few years, John came very close to revealing his secret. But in the end he kept it to himself, hoping he would never have to reveal what had happened.
One thing he had discovered as he worked his claim was that being alone was awful lonesome. Apparently he wasn’t the only man who thought that way.
When he’d gone into town to get supplies, he heard talk about men writing away for mail order brides. One time, he got hold of a copy of the Matrimonial Times before he went back to his claim. He read through the newspaper over and over week after week and decided it was something he wanted to do at some point.
So when he borrowed money to buy the new digging equipment, he got enough extra to be able to pay the agency and buy a ticket for a mail order bride to come west to him. He really wanted to wait until his claim started paying off so he could make a dec
ent life for his bride. But that time never came.
By the time he was ready to write his ad and letter get them mailed off, he realized that his claim was worthless and that he would be moving back to Kansas. But whether he was in California or Kansas, he knew he didn’t want to be alone any longer. So when he sent his information to the Western Marriage Agency, he didn’t mention having been in California. He just talked about the farm in Prairie Meadow. He hoped his bride would forgive him for being less than truthful, but he didn’t know what else to do.
John had been back several months. And they had been such busy months what with trying to get crops planted and get the farm back in shape, that he almost forgot about the letter he’d sent to the Agency.
When John came to dinner one evening, Emily handed him a letter that she’d picked up in town. John’s face turned all shades of red when he saw that it was from the Western Marriage Agency. Emily looked at him curiously. She’d seen the address on the envelope.
Smiling she asked, “Something you haven’t mentioned, John?”
“Oh yeah, I plumb forgot,” he said putting a finger under his collar as if it had suddenly gotten as tight as a noose. “I uh, I was getting kind of lonesome when I was in California. So, I uh, put an ad in at an agency that arranges mail order brides. And I guess, I finally uh, got a reply,” he finished, holding up the letter.
“Why that’s wonderful John. It’s high time you settled down,” said Emily smiling with delight.
“So you’re not mad that I didn’t tell you about this before?” asked John.
Emily laughed, “I know what you’re like John, you and your secrets.”