Mail Order Millie
Katie Crabapple
Mail Order Millie
By Katie Crabapple
Copyright 2011 by Katie Crabapple
George has a hard time dealing with his farm and his four children after the death of his wife. When the ladies at his church raise money for a mail order bride for him, he doesn’t argue with them. He needs a caretaker for his family. Millie has a short time to find her own way in the world before she is kicked out of the orphanage where she was raised. George’s letter about his requirements for a bride fit in all ways but one. Will her lie keep them apart even after they’re married?
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Chapter One
Minnesota 1880
Agnes climbed back into her buggy and headed toward town. She’d just delivered her weekly meal to Mr. Stevens, a widower from their church, and his four children. After Mrs. Stevens had died of fever six months before, the ladies in the church had divided up the days of the week. Every day someone drove the four miles out to the Stevens’ farm and fixed a meal. They’d all assumed he’d have found a new wife by now. Obviously Mr. Stevens needed a little bit of prompting.
Once she was back in town, Agnes sent her only son, James, with letters to the six other women who were taking meals out to the family. She had a solution, and they were all going to need to work together to make it happen.
The following afternoon, a Saturday, the women gathered in Agnes’ parlor. “It’s time Mr. Stevens remarried,” Agnes announced once they were all settled with their coffee and cookies.
Stella sighed. “I won’t argue you with, Agnes, but where is he going to find a wife? The closest girl to marrying age in the whole town is my Carrie, and she’s only fourteen. That’s too young to marry and be an instant mother.”
“I have an idea. You see, I saw an ad for an agency that hooks farmers and ranchers up with eligible young ladies.” She paused for effect. “We’re going to find Mr. Stevens a mail order bride.” She beamed a smile at the others as she said the words.
Norma’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Stevens doesn’t have the kind of money it would take for a mail order bride.” None of them did. They were a community of dirt farmers.
Agnes nodded. “I realize that. We’re going to have a bake sale to raise the money.” She dared the other women to argue with her on this. They wouldn’t, of course. No one ever argued with Agnes.
The other women all nodded hesitantly. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Agnes?” Stella asked. Agnes had always been the unacknowledged leader of their little group, because she was the most outspoken. She was rarely questioned when she came up with one of her ideas.
“I’m positive. Now, should we set the date for the bake sale for a week from tomorrow? We’ll hold it right after church. The lonely farmers who don’t have a wife baking for them will be thrilled to get their hands on our baked goods.”
The women talked and discussed and set a sales goal. Agnes would make her pumpkin pie and Stella would make her applesauce cake. They were sure they could raise the money in just one Sunday. Once they had paid the broker for his services, They’d have Mr. Stevens write a letter discussing what he was looking for in a wife. It was all going to be perfect.
