Rose's Mail Order Husband - A Historical Mail Order Bride Story (Montana Brides) (12 page)

“You did a fine job,” Rose replied. “You did what no one could ever do, and I feel it right now, with you getting me ready for my wedding. You’re the only one who could, and I wouldn’t want anyone else here right now.”

Rose heard a sniff and stole a peek at her sister in the mirror, only to see Violet wiping her eyes.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Violet blubbered. “I just don’t seem able to stop crying at the drop of a hat.”

Rose turned around on her stool and took Violet’s hand. “Cornell’s death really hit you hard, maybe harder than even you realize. You’ve worked all these years to stay on good terms with him, and then to fall out with him so terribly right before you find him dead—it must be hard for you.”

“Not as hard as you, I’d say,” Violet returned. “I think you may be denying how much Cornell’s death affected you.
That’s why you’re acting the way you have been. I think the shock will hit you later on. You don’t feel it now, but it’s coming out in subtle ways, and you don’t realize it. I think Iris doesn’t realize it, either. That’s why she thinks you’re acting guilty of killing him. You have to forgive her for that.”

Rose compressed her lips. “Iris can think whatever she wants.”

“Listen to me,” Violet maintained. “She knows as well as I do that you didn’t have anything to do with Cornell’s death. She just doesn’t understand how you could be acting so callously. She doesn’t realize you’re burying your feelings about him behind a hard exterior. She’ll understand later, when you start expressing your feelings more openly.”

“I won’t ever express any feeling for Cornell because I don’t feel anything for him,” Rose insisted. “He’s dead.
He’s gone. I’m just glad I’m moving into the Bird House. And I’m glad I’m marrying Jake. I won’t change my mind about that.”

“That’s what you think now,” Violet told her. “You’ll see I’m right.”

Rose sighed. “Okay, Violet. I won’t argue with you anymore.”

“Your hair’s finished,”
Violet told her. “Are you ready to put your dress on now?”

Rose cast a look toward the bed.
“All right. I guess so.”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Violet insisted. “I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Rose grimaced. “No, you won’t. But you will soon.”

Rose went to the bed and lifted up the dress. It really was the most beautiful wedding dress she’d ever seen. It was much nicer than anything they could have ordered professionally made from San Francisco or Chicago or Denver. And every stitch in it bore Violet’s loving fingerprints. That made it all the more beautiful and valuable.

Maybe one day, her daughter would wear this dress to get married. Maybe it
would be handed down from mother to daughter for a hundred years. She couldn’t well start off a tradition like that by not wearing it, could she?

Imagine the story her descendents would tell! “Great-grandma Rose had this dress, but she didn’t wear it for her wedding.” No, that would cast a shadow over every other wedding held in her family. Anyone who wore the dress would carry the stigma she cast on it.

She let Violet unbutton her soiled dress. She shucked it off and changed into the underwear Violet made to go under the wedding dress. All the time, she kept Violet strategically positioned to one side of her.

Violet took hold of her corset strings and tugged on them. Rose gasped between yanks on the strings. Finally, she picked up the dress.

She opened the back and stepped into it. She pulled the top of it up around her shoulders and slid her arms into the sleeves. She arranged the skirts around her legs. Then she stood with her back to her sister while Violet fastened the long row of buttons up her back.

She turned around and looked at herself in the glass. “It really is wonderful. I
don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you made it for me. It’s the greatest blessing you could bestow on my marriage. Thank you. This dress means the world to me.”

Violet sobbed behind her. “You are so welcome! I’m so happy to see you wearing it.”

“I’m sorry I ever gave you any reason to doubt that I would,” Rose replied. “It was heartless of me.”

“That’s okay,” Violet returned. “Seeing you in it now makes up for everything.
And seeing you standing before the minister in it is all the reward I could hope for. I’m so happy you’re marrying someone you love, and who loves you in return.”

“I am,” Rose assured her. “You shouldn’t listen to Iris about Jake being guilty of Cornell’s murder. If you only knew what a wonderful, kind, gentle man he is, you’d both know he couldn’t do anything like this.”

“We just want what’s best for you,” Violet insisted. “We only worry about you marrying Cornell’s killer because we care about you.”

“I understand that,” Rose replied. “But you have to believe me. I’m not marrying Cornell’s killer.”

“Are you absolutely certain of that?” Violet asked.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” Rose declared.

“If you say so, I believe you,” Violet told her. “Now quick! Give me a hug, because I have to go change my clothes and get myself ready. Oh, I must look a mess! I hate to think of Chuck seeing me like this. I must look like a lobster.” She blew her nose on the corner of her apron.

“You look as beautiful as ever, even in your old work dress.” Rose reached out her arms to embrace her sister, and as she did so, the ruffles of her sleeves fell back, exposing the delicate white flesh of her forearms.

Violet let out a gasp. “What’s that?”

Rose’s heart sank, but she
couldn’t back out now. She held up her forearm to reveal a bright purple bruise slashing across the milky white canvas of her arm. “That’s why I didn’t want to wear your dress.”

Violet’s mouth flew open. “But how did you get it? Oh, it looks terrible! Is it painful?”

“Not really,” Rose replied. “Sometimes, when I grip something very tightly, it aches a little, but not too much.”

“Where did you get it?” Violet asked again.

“I just fell down and hurt myself,” Rose told her. “It’s nothing. But now you understand why I didn’t want to wear the dress. I didn’t want anyone to see it.”

“Oh, of course!”
Violet laughed hysterically. “Oh, darlin’, I’m so glad you told me. That explains everything.”

She threw her arms around Rose’s neck and ran out of the room, laughing and crying at the same time.

Rose sank down onto her stool with her back to her mirror. The first domino had fallen. All the others couldn’t be long in falling, too. Then what? She took a deep breath. She could only ride out the storm and see it to its end.

She sat still for as long as she dared. She only stirred when the sound of voices roused her from out on the landing. The moment had finally arrived. Rose picked up her veil from the bed and tried to drape it over her own head.
But the angle didn’t work. She couldn’t attach the pins to her hair without seeing them from the back.

Maybe she could get Violet to do it before Jake saw her in the parlor. She ducked out of the room with the veil in her hand. Sure enough, she ran into Violet and Iris on the landing. They stood at the head of the stairs, just ready to descend. They both wore their own wedding dresses with their veils hanging over their faces. Violet held a bouquet of ox-eye daisies in one hand.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Violet exclaimed. “We were hoping we would meet you when you came out and we could all go down together.”

“Here I am.” Rose held out her veil. “Could you put this on for me?”

Violet’s eyes flew open. “Oh! I forgot.” She gave Rose her bouquet to hold and pinned the veil on. Then she lowered it over Rose’s face. “By the way, I have something for you.” She went back into her room.

When she came out, she held out another bouquet to Rose. Sprigs of deep green pine needles surrounded white rose buds. Rose’s mouth dropped open. “Where did you get these?”

Violet smiled. “In the Bird House garden. Didn’t you know Cornell had roses up there? You might not have seen them. They’re around the back of the house.”

Rose’s eyes welled up with tears. “You didn’t have to do this. After the way I’ve treated you, you shouldn’t have.”

Violet blinked her own tears away. “You haven’t done anything other than what anyone else in your situation would have done. Think of this as my wedding gift to you. I didn’t think you’d make yourself a bouquet, and no bride should be without one. Look, Iris has one I made for her, too.”

Iris held up a bouquet of creamy pink day lilies.

“I couldn’t find any irises at this time of year,” Violet told her, “but she seems to like it, and the color matches the trim I used in her dress, so it all works out in the end.”

Rose brushed her tears away on the ruffle of her sleeve. “You’re an angel, Violet. None of us deserves the work
you’ve done for us all these years. It’s going to be hard living away from you after I’ve depended on you for so long.”

“Nonsense!”
Violet tried to smile through her tears, but her mouth only screwed up into a sob. “You’ll be more than happy to get away from me and run your own house for a change.”

Rose shook her head. “I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.
I’ll never sleep alone ever again. I’ll never wake up alone again. And I’ll never sleep or wake up in the Main House again.”

Violet and Iris stared at her, but she
couldn’t stop her words flooding out. “You know what I wish? I wish Mama and Papa were here right now. I’d like to say good-bye to them right now.”

“But they’ve been dead for years,” Violet pointed. “We said good-bye to them a long time ago.”

“Maybe you did,” Rose corrected her, “but I didn’t. I never realized back then that I needed to say good-bye. I don’t think I ever even realized they were gone until right now. Now I’m saying good-bye to my childhood home and to my childhood. It only seems appropriate to say good-bye to them, too.”

Violet wept openly. “Oh, how you do go on!”

“Come here and hug me.” Rose reached out for her sisters. “Let’s promise right now that we won’t say good-bye, not today or ever. Promise me you’ll both be my sisters forever, and we’ll always live together and annoy each other just as much as we do now. I can’t face marrying Jake if we don’t promise.”

They all embraced at once and sobbed into each other’s veils. Eventually, they pushed each other away.

“Now, come on,” Violet sniffed. “Pull yourselves together, girls. We’ve got three men and the minister waiting for us downstairs. We can’t wait any longer. We can say more good-byes—I mean,
not
good-byes—when we get ready to go home to our own houses. My word, it’s going to be awfully quiet around here without you two in the house.” She laughed and cried all over again.

They composed themselves as best they could and then the three white apparitions floated down the stairs.

They tiptoed down the hall in descending order of age and glided into the parlor. The minister stood at the far end of the room, facing the door. Chuck and Mick stood to one side of the minister, and Jake sat in a chair against the wall. Sheriff Maitland hung back in a corner of the room with his legs planted wide apart and his hands clasped behind his back.

Mick stood next to the minister, dwarfing him by a head, and fidgeting uncomfortably in a stiff wool suit of charcoal grey. His eyes latched onto Iris the moment she stepped into the room, but he didn’t smile or blush or shift around the way he did during the past days. He froze stiff, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Then came Chuck in a brand new black tuxedo. He flushed with happiness when his eyes met Violet’s through her veil, and he smiled the same delighted smile he wore ever since he met her at the Butte train station.

Jake struck a curious contrast to his fellow mail-order grooms in his dusty trail clothes, hat, boots, and gun belt. When Rose entered the room, his eyes locked onto her and wouldn’t let her go. Her heart pattered at the sight of him. She almost ran into the side table when she couldn’t take her eyes off him to pay attention to where she was going.

So
this was it. She was going to marry him after all. All her hopes, dreams, and anxieties swirled together in a giant wave that crested and threatened to break over the top of her. Oh, please, please let it be me, she thought. Let it be the Rose from today that marries him, the Rose that brought him home, the Rose that led his horse by the bridle, the Rose that lay with him underneath the trees. As long as that Rose marries him, the rest will take care of itself. Let that be me. Let me be that Rose from now on.

The minister smiled on them all in a paternal way. He waved the brides toward the opposite side of the room. He
didn’t need to bother, because Violet led them there. They lined up like batters on a baseball diamond. Rose would have laughed at the thought, but Jake’s stare kept her silent.

The minister began his lecture, “We are gathered here today….”

The Sheriff vanished into the wallpaper.

Rose saw only Jake’s glinting black eyes across the room and heard only the hammering of her own heart. The blood rushing to her face blinded her to everything else. How could anyone hear the minister with that deafening roar filling the room? Would she hear him asking her if she took Jake for her husband?