In Search Of Love: The Story of A Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Bride Series) (5 page)

Michael and Margaret Murphy took their son to the train station early Monday morning for the 9:00AM train to Chicago, where he would change to another that would take him on to Columbus.  He would arrive in Columbus on Thursday at 1:00 in the afternoon.  It was the first time he had been away from home, and the first time he had been further than Oregon City since the family came over the Oregon Trail when he was five.  He was seated by a window, and waved to his parents, as the giant engine belched smoke and cinders, amid a shower of sparks created by the big eight steel wheels spinning against the steel of the track.  The train with its two huge engines pulled the eight passenger cars and the baggage cars out of the station.

The first evening on the train, he was fascinated by the process in which the conductor prepared the car for sleeping.  He didn’t fall asleep immediately, his mind full of thoughts about what he was doing and how it might affect the rest of his life.  Pretty soon, the clackety clack sound of the wheels on the track lulled him to sleep.

The trip was long, but not boring.  Patrick spent a good portion of the daylight hours on the platform at the rear of his car.  At times on some of the mountain stretches, he could see the end of his train and could see the winding path the train was taking around the mountain.  When it went through a tunnel, there was stygian darkness, since the tunnels were not lighted.  Another large portion was spent looking out of the window.  He managed to strike up conversations with several of his fellow passengers.  There were no women in his car.  After the train passed through the mountains, there were miles and miles of nothingness, endless prairie stretching beyond the horizon.

When the train entered Chicago, Patrick was not prepared for the size and sprawl of the city. Even though it was just past midnight and most of the people was sleeping, there was still a buzz of activity. Passing by the stockyards, he could see the outlines of the hundreds of head of cattle awaiting slaughter.  It was mind boggling to him.  He left the train, and following the conductor’s direction, he found the train that was to carry him on to Columbus.

Compared to Oregon City, Columbus was large.  Compared to Chicago, it was small.  When the train came to a stop at the Columbus depot, Patrick gathered his carpet bag, and his Stetson and found a carriage for hire.  He had Katerina’s address and paid the driver two dollars to convey him to that address,  The driver stopped in front of a small shop that had “Shoes, Made and Repaired lettered on the window.  He went inside.

A silver haired man wearing a leather apron stained with shoe polish approached the counter.  “Yes, I can help you?” he asked. 

“Yes sir, I hope you can,” Patrick said.  “My name is Patrick Murphy and I’ve come from Oregon to see Katerina Hauser.  Is this where I can see her?”

“Ach du lieber Gott,” the man exclaimed.  You’re Patrick?”

“Yes, I am.  Are you Katerina’s father?” he asked.

“Yes, I am her Papa.  Katerina is at school now.  She is usually not home until after four.  Katerina works hard to help her students and stays late when one is having problems.”

“That sounds like her from her letters,” Patrick said.  “Could I wait for her here?  She doesn’t know I am here.  I didn’t hear back from her after we talked about her coming to Oregon so I came here.”

“She has been upset since she didn’t receive an answer from her letter telling you to come.  Her mother has been preparing for you to stay with us.  Katerina checks the mail as she comes in, hoping for something from you.  Let me call her mother down.”  He went back to a door that opened to a stairway.  Patrick could hear him calling out, “Marta, can you come down, please.”

He could hear someone descending the stairs.  A stern, not unattractive woman, apparently in her middle to late forties came into the shop.

“What do you want,” she asked in an exasperated voice.  “I was busy.”

“Marta, this young man is Katerina’s Patrick.  He has come from Oregon to see her,” her shoemaker husband said.

“We didn’t know you were coming.  You should have let us know,” she lectured.

“When I didn’t hear back from her, I decided to take the bull by the horns and come see her and persuade her to come to Oregon with me,” Patrick said.

“What is this bull, you speak of?” she asked.

“It’s an expression we use.  It means, if you want it done, then do it yourself.  She couldn’t come to me because of the dangers, so I came to her,” he said.

“She is going to be surprised.  You will come upstairs with me, please?”  She led the way up the stairs and to their living quarters, not looking back but with the full expectation he would follow.  He did.

“So, your trip was good?”  She pronounced the word “gut”.

“
Yes, it was.  It was interesting and educational.  I haven’t been out of Oregon since we traveled there when I was five.”

“You are Irish, and Catholic?” she asked. 

“Yes, my mother and father both came to America from Ireland and we are Catholic.  I believe Katerina told me you are Lutheran?”

Steering away from private matters, she asked, “Katerina will be home soon.  Would you like water, or milk?”

“I would like some water please,” he said.

“What is it like, Oregon?” she asked.

“Oregon City is less than 100 miles from the Pacific Ocean, but I have never seen it.  It is nearly flat, but on a clear day we can see mountains.”  Warming to his subject now, he said, “The land is good.  It will grow anything.  I grow wheat and strawberries.  I would like to start growing apple trees too.  There are many trees, so plenty of lumber to build with.”

“I believe I hear Katerina now,” she said.

The door to the apartment opened, Patrick stood, and…

In walked the most beautiful girl Patrick had ever seen.  She had long blond
e hair, blue eyes and skin as smooth as porcelain.  Patrick’s jaw dropped and he was momentarily speechless.  “I’m…

I’m Patrick Murphy.  You’re Katerina?”

“I am Katerina,” she said.  “I didn’t get an answer to my last letter and I just mailed another two days ago.  I thought you had given up.”

“Your last letter must have been lost in the mail.  When I didn’t hear from you, I decided to take a chance and come ahead.  If it’s a problem for you, I can go.”

Marta had discreetly left the
room, but she listened outside the door.  She heard her daughter say, “No, no, it’s not a problem.  Mama has been preparing a place for you to stay.  I’m so glad you came.”  She put her hand on his wrist.  “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Did you meet Papa?” she asked.

“Yes, I did.  He seems like a really nice man.  Reminds me some of my Papa.  I could tell he cares about you very much.”

“He does, and he is my friend too.  Are you tired?  Would you like to take a walk?’ she asked.

“A walk would be nice.  After sitting on a train for four days, I need to stretch my legs,” he said. 

“It took you four days to get here?” she wondered.

“I left Oregon City Monday morning early, and got in two or three hours ago.  It’s pretty incredible when you think I went about two thousand miles in four days and it took us five months from Indianapolis to Oregon City.”

“Who is caring for your farm?” she asked.

“My brothers, James and John, Papa too, probably.  Papa and James live on the next farm over and John is not too far away.”

“It must have been nice growing up in a family with brothers and sisters,” she said wistfully.

“It was, they teased me terribly, but they cared and protected me too.  We all get along well and have dinner at Papa’s a couple of times each month.”  He laughed and said, “It was nice to get away from my diet of beans.  Beans are about all I cook.”

“They must be good for you. You look healthy and you’re handsome, too,” she said.

He blushed.  “Thank you.  And you, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

It was her turn to blush.  “Thank you.  That’s very kind of you to say.  I’ve never thought of myself as pretty.  I’m too thin,” she said.

“No, you’re perfect,” he said.

She took his hand, and he immediately felt the warmth of it spread throughout his body.  He thought,
She sure is nice.  I like her already
. They walked for thirty minutes before turning around and heading back to Katerina’s.

“Patrick, how long do you plan on staying?” she asked. 

“As long as it takes,” he replied.

“As long as it takes for what?” she questioned.

“As long as it takes to convince you to come back with me.”

“That might not take very long,” she said softly.

“Do you mean that, the way it sounds?” he asked.

“I do,” she said.  “The danger was the only thing that kept me from coming out by myself.”

They passed a bench.  “Let’s sit for a few minutes.  We won’t have any privacy at home.”

She turned to him, now holding both his hands.  “I love Mama, I truly do, but she regards anything in the house as hers no matter who it belongs to.  She was opening your letters before I even saw them.  She found my copy of The Matrimonial News and demanded to know what I was doing with it.  Papa, bless his heart, tried to get her to stop, but it didn’t work.  I told her if she opened my mail once more, I was going to turn her over to the government,”

“You didn’t!” he said.” 

“I did.  She still thinks of things the way it was in the old country and is afraid of all things governmental.  She’s been better lately, too.”

“She seemed nice enough today,” he said.

“Yes, she did.  It’s going to hurt to leave Papa, knowing I will likely never see him again, but if you are willing, I think we can be happy and can make a life together.  I am ready anytime you are,” she said.  Meeting you in person has made it easier.”

“Katerina, living on a farm is not an easy life.  Compared to what you have here it is primitive.  I live in what is little more than a cabin.  Many days, I work from dawn to dusk.  I’m tired when I get home at night and probably grumpy.  I’m poor and will probably be that way for a long time until I can add more land to farm.  Papa has been at it for twenty years.  He’s not poor, but he’s not rich either.  Mama says I’m too blunt and you saw that in my letter.  I want you to know what you are letting yourself in for if you come to Oregon with me.”

“May I make an observation?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“Then, I’ll be as blunt as you say you are,” she said.  We’ve been talking for nearly two hours, and not once have you mentioned marriage.  You need to know, we have to be married before I accompany you to Oregon.

“Oh dear Lord.  I haven’t, have I?  Is it appropriate for a man to propose four hours after meeting a lady?”

“I don’t see why not,” she said.  I might have traveled all the way there, but without marriage, I would have returned to Columbus.”

They were still holding hands.  He looked into the deep blue pools that were her eyes, squeezed her hands and said, “Katerina Hauser, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Her voice as soft as the kiss of a falling feather, she said, “Yes, I will.”

Cupping her chin in his hand, he pulled her closer and kissed her soft tender lips.  She was filled with a strange inner excitement.  “I have no experience in this Patrick.  I have never been kissed as an adult.”

His work calloused hands held the sides of her face gently as he kissed her again, surprisingly gentle.  His lips touched hers with a soft kiss.  “I’m glad I was the first,” he said in a whisper soft voice..  I’m not loaded with experience either.  I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was sixteen, and she was a neighbor and a friend.”

“Do you think your parents will be worried?  We’ve been gone quite a while,” he said.

“I don’t think so.  Papa trusts me, but we had better go,” she said.

Hand in hand once again, they walked back to her home to break the news to her parents.

“Mama, Papa, I’ve got something to tell you…”