Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Abner's Adventure

Kirsten Osbourne




  Abner’s Adventure

  Madame Matchmaker

  Kirsten Osbourne

  Copyright © 2019 by Kirsten Osbourne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Kirsten Osbourne

  Prologue

  1916

  Catherine Peartree smiled as she straightened her white leather gloves. They paired perfectly with her brown riding pants and fitted blouse. She strode down the spiral staircase of the grand Victorian home she shared with her parents and younger brother, Curtis.

  She found Curtis in the kitchen, snacking on a handful of almonds. “I’m going for a ride. Would you like to join me?” Catherine asked.

  Curtis shook his head. “Father is going to show me how to operate Big Red today!”

  Catherine laughed. “I don’t understand why you want to spend all your time working, Curtis. You’re only thirteen. You have another year or two before you need to join the business full time.”

  Curtis grinned. “Someone has to take over the Peartree business eventually. You’re too busy with your horses to learn the ropes.”

  “You’re so responsible,” Catherine teased. “You should try letting loose once in a while!”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” Curtis responded. Despite their frequent banter, the siblings—only a year apart in age—loved each other fiercely.

  Catherine ruffled Curtis’s hair before he could object and strolled out to the entry.

  “Darling, be sure to wear your hat!” Louisa Peartree clucked from behind a pile of boxes. “You’ll catch a cold!”

  “What is all of this, Mother?” Catherine asked, delicately stepping around the boxes.

  “I’ve baked some cookies for the men in the factory,” Louisa beamed. “I thought I’d take it to them as a surprise, since they’ve been working overtime for the big shipment.”

  Barton, Catherine’s father, was known as the premiere furniture maker in the country. A major holiday order had been placed from overseas, and Barton and his men were working round the clock to make sure everything was ready in time.

  “That’s sweet, Mother. I’ll see you later!” Catherine called as she continued for the door.

  “Don’t forget your hat!” Louisa shouted.

  Catherine waved her hand. “It’s not that cold, Mother. I’ll be back before dinner!”

  Outside, the crisp Boston chill forced Catherine to pull her coat a little tighter. She rode away from the Peartree family’s estate and toward the open fields outside of the city.

  Catherine loved riding. She rode nearly every day, and she didn’t know what she would do without her horse, Cherry Blossom, and the big barn on the Peartree’s property. One day soon, she knew she’d have to marry and move to a different place. She just hoped her future home would have stables in it.

  Catherine spent hours leisurely working her way through the countryside. She stopped at a stream to allow Cherry Blossom to drink some water. Finally, as sunset neared, she ventured back toward the city.

  As Catherine and Cherry Blossom picked their way back home, a terrible scent wafted through the fields. Catherine sniffed the air. “Is that burning?” Catherine asked out loud.

  Cherry Blossom just snorted.

  Catherine gathered the reins and dug her heels into Cherry Blossom’s side, racing toward town. She had a dreadful feeling someone was hurt and needed help.

  As the town came into view, Catherine’s breath caught in her throat as she saw billowing smoke pouring from one of the buildings. Her eyes filled with tears as she recognized the building.

  It was the Peartree Furniture factory.

  Chapter 1

  1919

  Catherine wiped the side of her face. A streak of black grease appeared on her hand, and she rubbed it on her skirt. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t felt truly clean in years.

  After the family business had gone up in smoke, claiming the lives of her father, mother, and brother, the bank had called in on a loan her father had taken out. Penniless, Catherine had to begin working at a local textile factory.

  Sometimes she dreamed about life back on her family’s estate even though she knew it was pointless. She had no prospects for the future: no one would want to marry her. She would continue to work, hoping to earn enough money to put food on the table, and grow old alone.

  “Back to work!” the foreman called. Catherine tucked her sooty handkerchief back in her pocket and returned to her sewing machine. She settled back into the routine of work. At least she had a job, she mused. She couldn’t imagine being cast off into the streets. She didn’t understand how her parents’ money had evaporated so quickly. Something about debtors and credits, that was all she had been told.

  Catherine lost herself in her work so completely that she didn’t realize Mrs. Thatcher was standing in front of her. A robust woman with a twinkle in her eye, she waved a silk handkerchief back and forth in front of Catherine’s face.

  “Excuse me,” Catherine said, embarrassed. “Hello, Mrs. Thatcher.” The wife of the foreman treated Catherine and the other girls who worked in the factory with kindness and respect.

  “I need a word with this one,” Mrs. Thatcher told her husband authoritatively. Walter Thatcher frowned but nodded.

  Catherine looked up at Mrs. Thatcher, questioning her hearing. “You need a word with me?” What could the dignified foreman’s wife want with her in the middle of a workday?

  Mrs. Thatcher merely smiled. She turned around, and Catherine stood up and followed her into a small office covered in papers. Mrs. Thatcher looked Catherine up and down. “Yes. I think you’ll do quite nicely.” The older woman made a note on one of her papers.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, what is this about?” Catherine felt bewildered. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Mrs. Thatcher chuckled. “No, my dear. I have an opportunity for you.”

  “For me?” Catherine could scarcely believe her ears.

  Mrs. Thatcher nodded. “I have a dear friend in Texas. I know her from my days in Seattle.”

  “You lived in Seattle?” Catherine asked. She didn’t know how this had anything to do with her.

  Mrs. Thatcher was a busy woman, and she did not like to waste time. “It was a long time ago. How would you like to be matched with a young suitor from Texas?”

  Catherine blinked. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  “My friend is starting a mail order matchmaking business. I understand from my husband that you have excellent manners and that you seem to be well-raised. There’s a young gentleman in Texas looking for a wife, and I think you might be just right.” Mrs. Thatcher looked at her watch. “If you agree, we’ll have to hurry, but there’s a train you can catch. And if you disagree, well, it’s back to the factory floor.”

  Catherine took a deep breath. What Mrs. Thatcher was offering her seemed impossible. The chance to get married . . . perhaps to even start a family of her own! It was something Catherine hadn’t even allowed herself to dream about since the deaths of her parents and brother.

  On the other hand, she didn’t know a single thing about her prospective husband. What if he was ill-te
mpered or cruel? She also didn’t know anything about Texas. Was it foolish to travel to a faraway place she had never been before? She didn’t know a soul in the state. Then again, she reflected, she didn’t really know anyone in Massachusetts either. Since the fire, all of her parents’ so-called friends had ignored her, treating her like she didn’t exist.

  “Well?” Mrs. Thatcher asked, looking at the clock again.

  Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes, Mrs. Thatcher. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 2

  “Edna Petunia! You have a visitor!” Cletus Sanders howled from the entry to the large house.

  Edna Petunia slowly ambled to the front of the house. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

  “Well, he’s here anyway!” Cletus shouted.

  Abner patted his ears as he waited on the porch. It was true that they had a large and spacious home, but was shouting really necessary?

  “Oh, Abner! That’s right. I knew you were coming.” Edna Petunia smiled as she opened the door to let him in.

  “I thought you said you weren’t expecting company,” Cletus pointed out.

  “Hush, old man,” Edna Petunia commanded.

  “Who are you calling old, woman?” Cletus barked back. He leaned closer to Edna Petunia and grabbed her around the waist.

  “I’m calling you old, you old sack!” Edna Petunia swatted him playfully.

  Abner sighed. He wished to someday have the love that Edna Petunia and Cletus shared.

  Edna Petunia remembered Abner was present and motioned for him to follow her into the informal parlor. “Remind me, why are you here again?”

  Abner scratched his head. “You said to meet you here after work.”

  “Oh! Yes! Don’t move!” Edna Petunia rushed out of the parlor. A few moments later, she returned waving a letter. “I have news!”

  Abner felt his heart skip a beat. “You do? What kind of news? Is it good?”

  Edna Petunia opened the letter and scanned it again. She had already read through it twice, but she wanted to get it right. “Your mail-order bride is a young woman named Catherine Peartree. She’ll be arriving by train tomorrow evening!”

  Abner’s jaw dropped. He had never expected Edna Petunia’s plan to work so quickly. “You mean . . . I’m going to have a wife . . . tomorrow evening?”

  Edna Petunia nodded. “That’s right. Are you scared of your wedding night? Don’t be nervous. It’s highly enjoyable!”

  “It’s not that!” Abner insisted. “I just didn’t know it was going to happen so quickly.”

  “If you need advice, you know, you can just ask Cletus,” Edna Petunia chuckled. “Trust me, he’s very skilled in his relations, if you know what I mean.”

  Abner swallowed. As much as he wanted what Edna Petunia and Cletus had, he didn’t care to think too much about what happened between them in private. His head spun as he realized that in less than two day’s time, he would have a woman living in his house. “I need to get home!” Abner blurted.

  Edna Petunia smiled. “You know where to find us if you need any help!”

  Abner rushed back to his house, his heart aflutter with excitement and apprehension. The small, one-room house he had inherited from his parents had seen better days. He wondered what his new bride would think when she saw the place. It needed a fresh coat of paint, but there wasn’t enough time for that.

  Abner went into the pantry. As a bachelor, he didn’t often cook elaborate meals for himself. He had a few cans of beans and not much else. He looked at the clock. If he hurried, he would have just enough time to stop in the mercantile before it closed for the evening.

  Abner rode swiftly to the mercantile and tied his horse to the post out front. He ran into the store so quickly that the door slammed shut behind him.

  “Easy, there, Abner,” Lewis Darcy, the owner of the mercantile, called in a friendly tone. “What brings you in today?”

  Abner sighed. “I need help!”

  Ruby Darcy, Lewis’s wife and one of Edna Petunia’s adopted daughters, walked through with a broom. She often kept the store clean and helped out while raising the Darcy children. “What do you need help with, Abner? Remember, all of my sisters are already married!” Abner had tried to date nearly every one of Edna Petunia and Cletus Sanders’s fifteen adopted daughters. It was annoying at first, but by the time the youngest, Katie, married, the entire family felt sorry for Abner.

  Abner took a deep breath. “Edna Petunia has found me a bride. She’s coming tomorrow!”

  Ruby stifled laughter. Her adoptive mother continued to surprise her. “Edna Petunia found you a bride? How?”

  “She’s in the mail!” Abner said excitedly as he began to race through the aisles.

  Lewis and Ruby exchanged a look. Abner was acting even more strangely than usual. They followed him down one of the aisles. “What exactly are you looking for?” Lewis asked.

  “And what do you mean, she’s in the mail?” Ruby added.

  Abner grabbed cans of meat and vegetables from the shelves and tried to balance them. “I need food! I don’t know what women eat!”

  Ruby found a basket for Abner to use. “Abner. Slow down. What on earth are you talking about?”

  Abner tried to calm down. He placed the cans in the basket. “Edna Petunia found me a wife. A mail-order bride from Massachusetts,” he said proudly.

  “Ah,” Lewis replied. “This is starting to make more sense.”

  “And she’s coming here tomorrow! I don’t have any food for a woman. Do women eat the same three meals as men?” Abner asked, looking uncomfortable.

  Ruby sighed. “Yes, Abner! Of course they do. But you should stock up on some of the basics. You don’t know if she has any particular fondness for certain recipes or preparations. You should talk to her about what she likes. Don’t assume that you know.”

  Abner hung his head. “There’s so much I have to learn.”

  Lewis clapped Abner on the back. “It will all work out, Abner. It will be a little challenging at first. All marriages are.”

  Ruby elbowed Lewis in the side. “What are you talking about? I was a perfect bride.”

  Lewis grinned. “That’s true. I just needed a little training to be the husband you needed.”

  “That I’ll accept,” Ruby smiled. She turned back to Abner. He still looked worried. “One step at a time, Abner.”

  Abner swallowed. “I just thought of something. Do women sleep at night?”

  Ruby sighed. This poor woman from Massachusetts had no idea what she was getting herself into.

  Chapter 3

  Catherine adjusted her bonnet again, checking her reflection in the window of the bus. She could hardly remember what day it was. She had traveled by train from Boston to Chicago. In a cloud of dust, she had boarded a bus that had taken her into Austin. Now, she was on the final leg of her journey. A second bus was pulling into the town of Nowhere.

  When Mrs. Thatcher had told her the name of the town where she was to live, Catherine had second thoughts. What kind of name was Nowhere? But then she had remembered that this was her only escape from a dreary life working in a factory.

  As the bus drove into town, Catherine closed her eyes and pictured her future husband. In her mind, he was tall, dark, and handsome. He’d be broad-shouldered and strong but also intelligent and considerate. The perfect gentleman. Catherine sighed as she pictured a beautiful life together.

  Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt.

  “Nowhere!” the driver shouted.

  Catherine opened her eyes and looked around. She didn’t see anyone on the street who seemed like he could be her husband.

  “If this is your stop, you need to get off the bus now!” the bus driver called, sounding angry.

  Catherine gathered her carpet bag and rushed toward the front of the bus, catching her coat on one of the seats. As she stopped to untangle it, the bus driver sighed loudly. Catherine looked up at him. “I’m doing my best.”

  The bus driver muttered
something under his breath. Catherine finished untangling the coat and carefully walked forward to the front of the bus. No sooner had she stepped onto the ground did the bus pull away, casting a cloud of dust in Catherine’s face. She began to cough loudly.

  When the dust settled, a man with kind eyes and a rakish smile leaned closer. “Miss Peartree? I mean, Catherine?”

  Catherine tried to collect herself. “Yes, that’s right. Who are you?”

  “I’m Abner Phelps, miss. I’m your—I'm to be your—well, your husband.” Abner scratched his head. He already felt nervous, second guessing every word in front of his bride-to-be. There was no denying that Catherine Peartree was stunningly beautiful. But at the moment, she looked as if she were going to be ill. “Are you all right?”

  Catherine coughed. “I wasn’t expecting all that dust. The bus driver was rather rude!”

  “He was rude to you? That’s horrible!” Abner felt his face heating up just thinking about someone treating Catherine with disrespect. “Here, do you need this?” He offered Catherine his handkerchief, feeling like that was a very chivalrous thing to do.

  Catherine accepted it gratefully, then wrinkled her face in disgust. “Is this . . . used?”

  Abner’s face turned bright red. He took the handkerchief back and stuffed it in his pocket, unsure what to say.

  Micah Barton cleared his throat, feeling sorry for Abner. “I’m Pastor Barton, Catherine. You can call me Micah.”

  Catherine nodded politely. “Pleased to meet you, Pastor.”

  “Would you like an opportunity to freshen up before the ceremony?” Micah offered.

  Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  “I’ll show you the way,” Micah said.