By
Copyright 2014 Amy Rollins, Vanessa Carvo, Bethany Grace & Helen Keating
Smashwords Edition
Mail Order Bride: Free At Last In California
Mail Order Bride: Margaret’s Jewish Cowboy
Mail Order Bride: An Orphan Finds Her Parents
Mail Order Bride: Wolf At The Door
By
Jocelyn had never really expected to get married. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She wanted nothing more than to settle down with the man of her dreams and celebrate God’s approval of the union with an enormous party, complete with all her favorite foods and a gigantic cake that everyone could share.
However, with the way it was in her small, South Carolina town, Jocelyn knew that if she wanted that kind of life, the kind where she loved a man, he loved her, and they spent the rest of their days together, she’d have to leave.
“Good Lord, Jocelyn,” Randy Black hooted as she spurred her horse forward. “Where’d you get a beast strong enough to bear you? Will you breed it? I need some stumps pulled out on my property sooner or later.”
Jocelyn set her mouth in a straight line and kept her gaze steady on the road ahead. She wouldn’t give the likes of Randy Black the satisfaction in knowing that she felt the stings of their barbs. She just wouldn’t.
She dismounted at the post office and marched inside. Two other men tittered at the sight of her and she couldn’t help but here the jibes they made as the door shut behind her.
“Why do you figure she wears breeches like that?”
“Probably don’t make dresses that go up to her size.”
“Dresses? She’d have better luck with a tent, maybe.”
Just as the Lord had seen fit to give Jocelyn a thick, corpulent body, he’d also bestowed upon her better than average hearing. Sometimes, it felt like a cruel joke, being able to hear people gossiping about her size as she went about her errands in town.
When she was little, she’d tried to pray for a different body. She was rotund from birth; her mother was fond of telling her.
“Please, God,” young Jocelyn said, the floorboards beneath her making her knees ache as she kneeled. “Just take this away from me. Why couldn’t I be like Polly Molston? Or Jennifer McAllister? Anyone else, Lord. Why do I have to be me?”
Her parents had fussed at her when they’d heard that little prayer, even though Jocelyn had overhead them several nights ago fretting because she’d outgrown yet another dress.
“God made you the way you are because he had reason to,” her mother said.
“That’s right,” her father agreed. “God had a plan for you, Josie, and we can’t question him for it.”
“But what plan would make me like this?” she asked, holding her arms out and feeling like she didn’t even want to touch herself. Jocelyn wished that her body were like a sort of suit that she could just unbutton, untie, unfasten, and crawl out of. That would solve all of her problems — if she could just slip into another body somewhere and leave this one behind to be forgotten.
“We can’t question God’s plans, girl,” her mother said. “The Lord has reasons we may never understand. All we can do is love and obey him and love one another and ourselves. Now, who’s giving you trouble at school?”
It would’ve been easier for Jocelyn to tell her mother the people who weren’t giving her trouble — the teacher, most of the time — but she kept her mouth shut and her head down. The last thing she needed was her mother or father marching over to the house of one of her classmates and telling the other parents just what had happened. If Jocelyn weren’t a pariah now, she most certainly would be after that. Life would be completely over.
Now, though, Jocelyn was taking matters into her own hands. She’d prayed about it extensively, asking God what her future was going to be. Was she going to be alone and ridiculed for the rest of her life? Or was she going to try to do something about it, try to make some kind of new future for herself that no one could take away from her?
It had been on a trip to town, some errand that she had to run for her parents that she couldn’t remember now. That was how she got the first inkling of what her future could be.
There had been a bulletin posted in the post office advertising for mail order brides.
“Embark on a life of adventure,” one line had read.
“Embrace a new life elsewhere with the man of your dreams,” another had urged.
Jocelyn wasn’t sure that either of them had exactly swayed her to make her decision. It had been perhaps the mention of “elsewhere,” as in, anywhere but here that had piqued her interest. If she could leave this town, perhaps she could go somewhere where they didn’t ridicule a woman just for riding a horse or wearing breeches when she did it. She owned dresses, but she just didn’t like wearing them while she rode.
Therefore, she’d written a letter right there on the spot and posted it. Now was the time to seize her future. She was ready to get out of here and try to restart her life.
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is Jocelyn Winger and I am writing to inquire about your mail bride service. I could write several pages about why I wanted to become a mail order bride, but I think I can sum it up with the fact that I am eager and willing to start life somewhere else. When pairing with a man, please keep in mind that I would be more than happy to travel as far away from my hometown as possible.
I am an excellent cook and a very accomplished horsewoman, if those facts help with placement.
I look forward to hearing back.
Sincerely,
Jocelyn Winger
When she’d walked away from the post office, she felt lighter, somehow, on the spiritual level. It was as if God was granting her peace in her heart, as if he were smiling because she’d made the right decision.
Part of her hoped that her letter didn’t sound too much like she was trying to get away from something. Even though that was pretty much her imperative, Jocelyn didn’t want to come off like a fugitive.
Another part of her wondered if she should have admitted to being full figured — as her mother liked to say — in her letter. It seemed like too much of an admission, that maybe it would’ve been too difficult to find a willing match had she owned up to that fact. In the end, though, Jocelyn had decided against it.
Couldn’t she make a clean break from the thing that had so viciously defined her all this time? She didn’t feel like she was lying — even if it was a lie of admission. Nowhere on the bulletin had it instructed her to describe what she looked like.
She was surprised when the answer to her letter arrived so soon. It told her that either she was easy to pair her based on the qualities she’d included or there was a serious shortage of brides for the number of grooms who were applying.
Dear Miss Winger,
We were delighted to receive your letter and have paired you with Michael Adamson, a rancher in California. He was excited to hear that you are an accomplished horsewoman. That skill will serve you well on his ranch.
We have forwarded your address to him, and he will write you soon to talk about travel and other arrangements.
We wish you a very happy future.
Michael Adamson. The name rang in her mind for several days. She would no longer be Jocelyn Winger. It would be Jocelyn Adamson, a name she liked the sound of.
That is, it would be Jocelyn Adamson only if Michael met her and wasn’t repulsed or disgusted by her, as so many other people were. A kernel of doubt worked its way through her happiness and hope, worrying her.
What if he wouldn’t accept her? What if he didn’t like her? What if he made fun of her like everyone else she’d ever met? If she stepped off the train in California and the first thing she heard was a joke about her size, Jocelyn didn’t think she could handle it.
When Michael’s letter finally arrived — she had to remind herself that it was coming all the way across the nation — Jocelyn tore into it with the bizarre insecurity that he’d somehow found out that she was fat and that he was calling it all off.
The opposite was true.
Dear Jocelyn,
I was so pleased to hear that the mail order bride company had found a match for me. I have been waiting for a long time for an opportunity like this. They’d sent me several selections before they sent me your information, and I’d turned them down. As pleasant as these young ladies sounded, I didn’t believe they could survive at the ranch.
You, on the other hand, sound like you’ll do just fine. I like the fact that you can cook. The only reason I’m still alive after all this time is that I’ve mastered rudimentary skills over a fire, but kitchen work is beyond me.
The selling point, however, is that you’re a rider. This will benefit us both greatly. If you’re amenable, we can ride the ranch together, move the herd, and more. I’m gone from home a lot because I have to drive my cattle from pasture to pasture. I wouldn’t have to be gone from you if you’re up to a little adventure.
Please let me hear from you. We can make all the necessary arrangements at your convenience.
Sincerely,
Michael Adamson
Jocelyn had read the letter so many times that she practically knew it by heart. The fact that she’d been picked over several other women was a boost to her self-confidence that she’d n ever really known.
She wanted to write back right then immediately, and tell Michael that she was more than ready to join him in California, but there was the small matter of telling her parents. Jocelyn knew that she should confer with them before she made any major plans — though agreeing to marry a man she’d never met in person had been drastic.
She acted as caretaker for her elderly parents, which filled her with no small amount of guilt. How could she think of leaving them to fend for themselves?
Keeping the ideas of Michael and California to herself was harder than she thought that night. The letter folded into her apron pocket was a physical presence of what she’d already decided to do.
Jocelyn tried to take her mind off everything by cooking. It usually worked very well. Cooking and riding were the only two things she could immerse herself in. There was something about following a recipe — and then taking it on twists and turns that were completely her own — that was exciting and absorbing.
Tonight, she adapted one of her mother’s old recipes for beef stew. The old recipe had only called for beef, potatoes, and carrots, but Jocelyn added a little bit of everything: garlic, shallots, herbs, spices, other vegetables she had on hand, and added a thick slice of homemade bread that she’d taken hot from the oven this morning.
“Mama, Papa,” she called. “Suppertime.”
She walked back to their bedroom to see if they needed any help coming to the kitchen, but they walked just fine on their own. Her father was getting a little clumsy on his feet, but her mother was as spry as ever.
They all sat down together and prayed over the meal.
“Lord in heaven,” her father intoned. “Thank you for these gifts you have set on this table before us tonight. Thank you for our health and all of your blessings you have bestowed upon us. In your name we pray, amen.”
“Amen,” Jocelyn and her mother repeated.
Jocelyn added her own little prayer silently: “Please, Lord, give me the strength and courage to tell my parents what I aim to do through your blessing.”
Ladling the stew into her parents’ bowls first, Jocelyn poured them tall cups of milk.
“Milk again?” her father grumbled, wrinkling his nose. Though he was a Christian man, he’d always appreciated a mug of ale with dinner.
“Milk is good for you,” Jocelyn reminded him. “Helps keep you healthy and strong.”
She was doing whatever she could to make sure her parents stayed as healthy as possible. Knowing her father was in danger of taking a tumble at any time, especially with the way he tottered on his feet, Jocelyn tried to pump him with as much milk as possible. She was always concerned about their well being.
“You know, one of these days, your father and I are going to be in heaven,” her mother said suddenly.
“Don’t talk like that, Mama,” Jocelyn fussed. “Both of you still have plenty of years left.”
“I’m just concerned for you,” her mother said, spooning some of the stew Jocelyn had set before her into her mouth. “Mm. I just don’t know how you go so good at this, girl. You make my recipe better than I make it.”
“Just lots of practice,” she said, smiling. She’d never tell her mother that she’d found weaknesses in the recipe and had modified it. She didn’t want either of her parents ever knowing that she was moving forward, slowly surpassing them in their skills and independence.
When Jocelyn was a little girl, she never would’ve dreamed that she’d be a better cook than her mother or a more brilliant rider than her father. It would’ve scared her. Even now, as a grown woman, it still frightened her that, if cut loose, she’d be just fine. She never knew that not needing her parents would be so hard.
“Anyways, what are you going to do to keep yourself busy once we’re gone?” her mother persisted, dipping a pinch of bread into the stew. “We don’t want you to get lonely. That’s all.”
Get lonely? Jocelyn had been lonely all her life, from the first moment a child had ribbed her about her weight and it’d become the popular thing to do. Any one of her classmates who tried to befriend her was ostracized to the point of tears, and soon returned to the flock of kids hurling insults — and rocks, sometimes — at Jocelyn as she fled.
She remembered the school year when everyone had made it a game to see how quickly and often they could make her cry. They did it so secretly and effectively that the teacher often took the ruler to Jocelyn’s soft, tender palms out of exasperation.
“Really, Jocelyn,” he’d sigh as she wept even more at the sting that added injury to insult. “You’re too flight, too emotional. You can’t get through one assignment without breaking into tears.”
That was usually because her classmates would be pelting her with small pebbles and acorns for the duration of the assignment, or treading hard on her toes as they passed by her desk, or pulling at her pigtails and making oinking sounds.
She’d tried so hard not to eat, to try to shrink herself down to pass beyond notice. However, it left her so hungry all the time, distracted her in class, and made her miserable for nothing at all. It seemed as if God had always intended her to be her size, and there was nothing she could do but learn to accept it — and ignore the bullying of those around her.
Jocelyn took a deep breath, pulling herself out of her past, and decided that now was as good a time as any to tell her parents what she intended to do. Her mother had unwittingly provided an opening for her.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about regarding that,” she said, making both her mother and her father pause from their suppers and look at her.
“Regarding what?” her father asked.
“Well, loneliness,” Jocelyn said. “And what I could do about it; what I have done about it, I mean.”
Her mother gasped sharply and put her hand to her heart. “Josie! Have you met someone?”
“In a way,” she hedged.
“Well, out with it,” her father said, gruff as ever. He was uncomfortable about matters of the heart. Jocelyn had always found that fact humorous, but it only made her more nervous tonight.
“I’ve corresponded with a mail order bride service,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. There. She just had to say it.
Both of her parents were stunned into silence by the admission, and Jocelyn’s face ignited in a flush.
“But, what is a mail order bride service?” her mother asked haltingly.
“It’s a company that takes applications from eligible men and women and matches them based on interests and abilities,” Jocelyn said, remembering the language on the bulletin over at the post office.
“Can’t you find someone by yourself?” her father asked, his nose wrinkled in the same way he wrinkled it at milk. “Why do you need a service?”
“How did you and Mama meet?”
“Why, our parents knew each other,” her mother said. “We know plenty of people in this town, Josie. We just never knew you were interested in getting married. We’ll ask around.”
“There’s no one in this town I want to marry,” Jocelyn said, crossing her arms over chest a little protectively. She couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with any of the men her age that’d tormented her during her school years. Some persisted in making fun of her to this day.
“Nonsense,” her father chided. ‘There are plenty of fine young men who would make excellent husbands.”
“Like Randy Black?” Jocelyn asked, raising her eyebrows. He was one of her most regular nemeses and her parents knew it.
“Well, not like Randy Black,” her father allowed. “But someone. Josie, you don’t need this service to help you find a man. We’ll take care of it.”
“I’ve already taken care of it,” Jocelyn said. “I’ve been matched with a rancher living out in California and he’s already written me a letter.” She patted her apron pocket to reassure herself. “I guess I’m asking for your blessing to go. His name is Michael Adamson.”
Both her parents sat in stunned silence for longer than Jocelyn liked. She didn’t imagine it would be this hard to tell them. She sent up another quick prayer to God for strength.
“All the way out in California?” her mother asked. “Why, we’ll never see you again.”
Jocelyn swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought about it like that. Her mother was right, of course. Once Jocelyn had made it all the way out to California, she couldn’t very well just turn right back around and go see her parents in South Carolina again.
“Just what’s in California that interests you?” her father demanded.
Someone that doesn’t know me, she wanted to say. Someone who thinks I’m wonderful because of the skills I possess and isn’t disgusted by how big I am. Someone who won’t ridicule me for something I can’t change.
“Well, Michael lives on a ranch,” she said. “He told me that he drives a herd of cattle for a living. He was particularly impressed that I was a good rider and said it would come in handy. We could travel together, drive the herd together, and sleep out under the stars together.”
“Are you going out there to work for a living, or to get married?” her father asked.
“Both, hopefully,” she said. “I would want to do everything I could to help him with his livelihood. He’d be my husband, after all.”
“Is this what you want to do?” her mother asked.
“I’ve prayed about it,” Jocelyn answered. “I’ve prayed to God to deliver me, to show me what path I should take. I feel like this is the one he wants for me. In addition, I know I could be a good wife to Michael. I could give him just what he needs.”
Talking about it like this made Jocelyn realize that she had never wanted anything more in her life — not a new body, not for the kids to stop tormenting her, this: to live in California where she could simply ride and cook all day and not have to endure the malice of this town.
“I suppose, then, that your father and I can manage on our own,” her mother said. “You have our blessing.”
“Speak for yourself,” her father fussed. “I haven’t given my blessing. It’s not right that you don’t know this young man. It’s not right that you’re just leaving here, just like that.”
“First of all, I won’t be leaving you two all alone,” Jocelyn said, holding her hands up. “I’m going to hire a girl from town to check on you every day, cook your meals, do the cleaning, run your errands. Understand?”
“We can take care of ourselves,” her mother said, but Jocelyn wasn’t in the mood for arguments.
“I think we can all agree that there is no one in this town who will have me,” Jocelyn said. “I’ve prayed about it. You know that I always consult the Lord on these things. And the Lord is telling me that I should make a fresh start.”
“You have my blessing,” her father grumbled quietly. “You know all we want is for you to be happy.”
“You will be well taken care of,” Jocelyn promised, kissing both of them.
‘Dear Michael,
It was so nice to hear from you. I’ve received my parents’ blessings to join you in California and am looking forward to making the move. I am available to make the journey as soon as you are ready.’
At this point, Jocelyn struggled. Should she tell him more about herself? Most importantly, should she tell him about her weight? How would that even sound? Oh, by the way, some people in town are convinced that I don’t buy dresses — I buy tents, because that’s how big I am. She shook her head. Soon, that would all be over. She’d have a fresh start in California, and she was sure her new husband would accept her for her skills, her personality, and her love.
Taking up her pen once more, Jocelyn jotted down a few more lines to the letter.
‘I am looking forward in particular to the chance to drive the herd with you. I ride often in my town, but nothing as epic and far-reaching as a cattle drive. We will do more than simply survive during those trips. We’ll thrive. I’ll start working on adapting some of my recipes for a campfire. We’ll eat like royalty.’
Jocelyn tapped the pen against the desk a few times. Now was the chance. This was the part when she could talk about what she looked like. However, she just couldn’t get herself to come right out and say it.
‘In my town, many people don’t expect that much out of me. It’s because they’ve never given me a chance, never had the opportunity to see just what I’m capable of. In California, I can’t wait to live up to my potential.’
That was close enough, wasn’t it? Jocelyn rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. Why was this so hard? She thought that once her parents gave her their blessing, it would be downhill from there. Now, though, she felt like she was struggling, skating a fine line between truthfulness and dishonesty.
‘This might be a little personal to tell you, especially since we have yet to meet in person’, she wrote. ‘Nevertheless, I feel like I prayed for you, and that God answered my prayers. Going to California and starting a new life with you will be something of a miracle for me.
I will wait for your response and begin packing.
Jocelyn’
Running errands around town, buying supplies, material for her wedding dress, and various sundries she thought Michael might like, Jocelyn found the long stares, outright insults, and sniggers behind her back easier to ignore. In fact, she found she didn’t care about them at all anymore, not when she knew that there was an end in sight.
Even Randy Black didn’t bother her too terribly when he happened to be walking in as she walked out with her bolt of flower printed fabric for her new dress.
“Good Lord,” he whistled. “You expecting the circus in town, Jocelyn?”
“God bless you, Randy,” she said sweetly, leaving him puzzled and staring in her wake.
Finally, she got the response she was waiting for at the post office, just when she and her mother had finished up sewing her dress and Jocelyn was just about all packed up.
‘Dear Jocelyn,
Your letter did more than warm my heart. I haven’t been able to stop smiling since. When you arrive in California, my jaw may very well be in a sling from all the smiling.
I have a confession to make, too. You are also the answer to my prayers. There aren’t very many women out here, and I’ve been asking God to help me find a companion for life on the ranch.
Your promise of delicious meals on drives makes me want to take one the moment we get off the train. If you weren’t coming with a trunk, maybe we would. Maybe I’d drive the entire herd to town to meet you. How would you like that?
Leave as soon as you can. I can’t wait to see you in person, to spend the rest of my life going on adventures with you. When you arrive, have a pink flower pinned to your hat. That way, I’ll know you.
Michael’
If a letter could sweep Jocelyn off her feet, she was gone. In addition, if a letter could make her swoon with love, she was about to hit the floor.
She bought her ticket, finished packing, and bid her parents farewell. The girl from town was a sweet one who’d never bore Jocelyn any ill will. She was young, but trustworthy. She knew she’d left her parents safe.
She’d earned herself a few long stares on the train, and one embarrassing moment when she’d had to find an empty bench, when a ticketholder discovered that they couldn’t both fit on a single bench.
However, overall, the train ride was uneventful save for the mind-blowing sights she saw just beyond her window. God was awesome, and that was all there was to it. The world was his masterpiece, and it was up to people like Jocelyn to open their eyes to his majesty and thank him for it as often as they could.
The old nervousness gnawed at her as the train pulled up into the station in California where she’d be meeting Michael. He was about to see her for what she was. Her hands trembling with anxiety, she pricked her finger three times before she could manage to secure the flower to her hat, as they’d agreed she’d do.
Edging her way down the aisle, Jocelyn stepped out of the train and into the afternoon sun. The air was fresh but hot, and a thrill of excitement cut across her fear. She shaded her eyes and started looking around. There were other hats with other flowers and feathers and buttons decorating them, but as far as she could see, hers was the only pink flower.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
Jocelyn turned to see a tall, handsome man with light brown hair and cheerful blue eyes smiling at her. His smile lit up his entire face and made her smile herself.
“Why, good afternoon,” she said.
“I don’t mean to waste your time,” he said, “but I’m meeting a young woman on this train. We decided she’d have a pink flower in her hat so I’d know her. I noticed you had a pink flower. There are people still coming off the train, but I thought I’d go ahead and rule you out.”
Jocelyn’s heart sank. Michael Adamson was standing right in front of her, more handsome than she could’ve imagined, and not only did he not believe in the possibility that he could be his bride, he also thought she was older than she actually was. For some reason, people always equated her heaviness with some advanced age as well. Jocelyn sighed and fought to keep smiling.
“It’s me, Jocelyn Winger,” she said. “You’re Michael, aren’t you?”
It was like a kick to the stomach to see his smile drain away. He’d written in his letter that he’d been smiling ever since he’d received hers, but the reality of her had just taken that smile right from his face.
After what seemed like many long, painful minutes of him simply looking at her, he finally spoke again. This time, though, his voice wasn’t nearly as friendly and open.
“You’re not what I expected,” Michael confessed, and Jocelyn’s heart sank. “I don’t think this is the place for you, Jocelyn, and I’m very sorry that you’ve wasted your time by coming all the way out here.”
“I’m everything I said I was,” she said. “I just want the opportunity to prove myself, that’s all. Can’t you find it in your heart to look past this?”
She held her hands in front of her body and knew what a farce it all was. She had never once gotten anyone to look past her packaging to the gift that resided inside. Her parents had never seemed to mind her size, but they were usually blind to most of her faults.
Michael shook his head. “I don’t think a cattle drive would be safe for you,” he said. “I have nearly three hundred head, Jocelyn. I can’t be looking after them and you, too.”
Jocelyn’s face colored, wondering if her intended had meant to compare her to a cow. She’d had much worse things spat and hissed at her, but this one hurt because she’d thought all the insults and bad feelings were behind her, all the way across the country behind her.
Jocelyn had been naïve. As long as she looked the way she did, there would never be any peace. She would have the rest of her life to look forward to new insults, new inventions of torments, new ways that other people could tear her heart in two.
“Please, don’t cry,” Michael said. “I’m just concerned for you. In addition, I’ll confess, a little betrayed. Did you make up the fact that you were a horsewoman? How could you be?”
Jocelyn huffed with self-righteous indignation. “I never lied to you about that,” she said. “Or anything, for that matter. I wondered if I should tell you in my letters what I looked like. However, why should I have to? Why feel like I have to warn you about the way I’ve always been and the way I’ll always been?”
Michael tried to say something, but Jocelyn held up a finger. She was just getting on a roll. Never, not once in her life had she ever stood up to any of her bullies. She just hadn’t had the courage. But now, standing in front of the man she’d fallen for via his letters, believing that God drew them together, and then being rebuffed by him, doubted just because of her appearance, Jocelyn couldn’t just take it anymore.
She was done with that.
“You didn’t tell me in your letters that you had blue eyes and brown hair,” she said, peering up at Michael. “What if I found those characteristics repulsive? What if I was the one disgusted, not you?”
“That seems a little childish, don’t you think?” he asked. “A little trivial, shallow?”
She widened her eyes and waited for him to understand her point, that it was shallow for him to judge her based on her appearance, but Michael never seemed to make the connection.
“And I’m not disgusted, Jocelyn,” he said. “I just wanted to have adventures with you, and I don’t think you’re physically able.”
“That’s your opinion,” she said. “My opinion is that I’m more than able to go on adventures with you. At least, I thought that when I actually wanted to go on adventures with you.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I’m not going to just stand around and take this abuse,” Jocelyn said. “I’m going to buy another train ticket out of here.”
She marched to the front desk, tears stinging her eyes. Where would she go? Returning to South Carolina wasn’t an option. The taunts would come with a even more painful edge. Jocelyn Winger had left her hometown so sure that she’d marry some poor fool, but the moment she got off the train, he reneged on the deal. Well, who could blame him?
Nevertheless, she couldn’t stay here, not with the man she’d been so sure she had a future with. She sent up a quick, silent, desperate prayer as she marched: “God, help me!”
“Jocelyn, wait.”
She turned on her heel to see that Michael had hurried after her.
“What more could you possibly want?” she demanded. “Did you think of something clever to say? Like how could any horse handle my weight? I’ve heard them all, Michael. I could supply you with a lot of good material.”
He blinked several times without saying anything, clearly stunned.
“I didn’t mean to insult you, if that’s what you’re feeling,” he said. “I just wanted you to understand that this isn’t a game or a fantasy. The dangers of living on a ranch, of going on a cattle drive, are all very real. I couldn’t ever forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“I don’t think you’re going to ever give me the chance to prove myself,” she said. “Are you? Or will I just remain that poor, sad, fat girl who tried to marry you?”
“Stop,” Michael chided. “Enough of that kind of talk. I’m not being unkind to you, Jocelyn.”
The strange thing was that she believed him. He wasn’t being awful or mean like everyone else she’d ever known. The unkind thing was that he didn’t believe she could do the things she said she could. It was looking like she would never have those adventures she had been looking forward to.
“I should go,” Jocelyn said.
“Where are you going?” he asked, cocking his head and looking vaguely sick. “Back to South Carolina?”
“No,” she said, shuddering. “Somewhere else. Somewhere I can have an adventure.”
“You can’t just buy a ticket to somewhere you’ve never been,” Michael said, snagging her elbow as she reached for her pocketbook. “That’s not safe. Think of what kind of danger you would place yourself in. You could be robbed or worse.”
“You know, for someone who wrote a lot about going on adventures with me, back when you didn’t know I was fat, you certainly have a lot of fears.” Jocelyn looked down at Michael’s hand, which still grasped her elbow. It was a strong hand, rough, and she wished she had gotten some more time to get to know the person it belonged to. Would anyone ever accept her enough for her to get to know them? It was looking doubtful.
Michael heaved a big sigh and let his hand drop. “Why don’t we go out to the ranch?” he asked. “It doesn’t have to be forever. However, I really can’t permit you to just buy a train ticket to somewhere. We can talk more, take our time, make a decision that’s a little more informed than one made in anger. Do you think you’d want to do that?”
Jocelyn didn’t know what she wanted to do anymore. She had been looking forward to coming to California so much, but now it was like a mouthful of dust. Nevertheless, all of this confusion and hurt had her backed into a corner. She wanted to flee, to hide her pain away from the man who was causing it, but she didn’t have anywhere she was willing to go.
Was the ranch the answer? Would she be able to clear her mind there?
“I think I’d rather get a room at a hotel here in town,” she said. “Are there any you’d recommend?”
“Jocelyn, don’t waste your money,” Michael said sadly. “I feel terribly that we got off on such the wrong foot. Can’t we start over as friends?”
She wished they could start over as betrothed, as they’d been when they were still writing letters back and forth to each other. That reality just wasn’t going to happen anymore, though, apparently.
“I’ll stay at your ranch, thank you for offering,” she said. “But I’ll leave as soon as I decide what I want to do and where I want to go. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Yes,” Michael said. “Take a few days, a few weeks. Whatever you need. Just don’t get on a train to nowhere, Jocelyn. That’s not what you need in your life.”
She didn’t know how Michael seemed to know what she needed or didn’t need in her life, but she followed him back to where they’d left her trunk.
He surprised her by stooping and heaving it onto his shoulder with a small grunt.
“I’m used to doing heavy lifting,” he explained at her raised eyebrows.
Jocelyn’s shoulders slumped. She’d probably be the heaviest load he’d ever have to shoulder. He’d asked for a wife and he’d gotten her. Poor Michael.
She got into the wagon, eschewing his help to clamber into the seat, and they left the small town. Jocelyn looked a little longingly at the hotel as they rode past it. If she stayed there, there wouldn’t be any insults, awkward silences, or hurt feelings. She’d be able to be an anonymous room number, closing the door on prying eyes.
“The hotel’s not for you,” Michael said, seemingly reading her mind. Alternatively, maybe he was just paying attention to her wistful gaze toward something she’d viewed as a viable escape to this mess.
“I don’t know what’s for me anymore,” she sighed. She was a stranger in a strange place. Mountains jutted from the ground and wheeled up toward the sky, making her a little dizzy. The terrain was a mixture between rocks and prairie. Jocelyn could understand in an abstract fashion why it would probably be good for rearing cattle. It had a harsh beauty to it that only God could create.
Riding along in his wagon, she wasn’t sure what she should say to Michael. She wasn’t sure what she could say. He was obviously disgusted by her and there wasn’t anything she could do or say to change his mind about that. Jocelyn supposed she should be used to it by now. She’d never been able to change anyone’s opinion about her appearance.
She prayed to God for strength and kept quiet, kept being silently amazed by the mountains that sprouted everywhere and the grassy hills that extended in front of them like a dry sea.
“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Michael asked quietly. “I never really get used to it. I suppose that’s a good thing, never taking it for granted. It’s always just as beautiful as if it were my first time seeing it.”
“It’s rugged,” Jocelyn agreed.
“The ranch is just up here,” Michael said, pointing. She could’ve been imaging it, but he sounded as excited as a little boy at the prospect of showing it to her. As they got closer and closer, Jocelyn could make out a big house, an even bigger barn, and a small cottage on the property. A large part of it was fenced in, but beyond that, she could make out an extraordinary amount of cattle. They were grouped together and moved as one. It was beautiful.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jocelyn gasped, taken aback by the beauty. She couldn’t believe that Michael got to live here all the time. “It’s wonderful.”
“Thank you,” he said, beaming. His smile lit up his entire face, and Jocelyn felt a small degree of consolation that at least she’d brought him back his smile, even after all the disappointment he’d weathered today.
“I’ll drop you off at the big house,” Michael said, pointing. “I’ll take your trunk inside. I’ll need to water the horse and get the wagon put away in the barn.”
“What’s the cottage for?” she asked. “Do you have ranch hands?”
“No,” he said, after the briefest of hesitations. “My parents used to live in the cottage. That’s all. They’re dead, now.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her hand flying up to her throat. If Jocelyn’s parents died, she would certainly be a little more mournful in telling people about it. Michael seemed almost blasé about it, as if he were remarking on the weather.
“Don’t be,” he said in that same brusque tone. “People die. They’re in heaven, now, with God.”
“Amen,” Jocelyn said uncertainly. It was a truth of life that they all had to die, surely, but a person was allowed to have some amount of grief about it.
The sun was just setting by the time they were sitting down in front of the fire that Michael had lit.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” he asked her. “I’ll fix you something, if you thought you could stomach it.”
“Really, I ate on the train,” she said. “Unless you’re hungry. I could fix you something. I wouldn’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have you working in the kitchen the day you arrived after crossing the entire country,” Michael scoffed. “But please. If you’re hungry, I’d be more than happy to get you something. I’m not hungry at all. I don’t eat much anymore.”
“Why’s that?” Jocelyn asked, sensing a reason for it.
“Because my cooking is terrible,” he said, cracking a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“What’s the real reason?” she asked.
“I haven’t really had much of an appetite ever since my parents died,” he admitted. “I don’t know what it is. My mother always did all the cooking. Maybe that was it. I never quite got the hang of the stove, though I’m obviously not starving.”
“Let me fix you something to eat,” Jocelyn urged, making a move to get up, but he shook his head, his mind obviously somewhere else entirely.
“My parents were killed in a stampede,” Michael said, staring into the fire. “It was a freak thing. They used to live in the cottage on the property. It’s stood empty ever since. I’ve always meant to hire a family or something, bring somebody out here to help me with the herd, but I couldn’t bear it. It was their cottage, a little space all apart for them. And it had been my duty to bring a wife into the big house and fill it with children.”
“I’m sorry,” Jocelyn said, feeling like his sudden and tragic admission had taken all the breath out of her. “That’s terrible. When did they die?”
“It’s been nearly two years,” Michael said. “And I think I should be apologizing to you for leading you on, as well.”
“You told me you were lonely,” she said, looking back to his letter in her mind. “You weren’t obligated to reveal any more than that. You don’t have to talk about it, even, if you don’t want to.”
“I want to talk about it,” he said. “I’ve never talked about it with anyone. There was never anyone to talk about it with. I feel like I’ve been alone out here for too long. I felt like I was ready for adventures again, but when I saw you, something just broke inside of me.”
Jocelyn sighed and cut her eyes away from him. Broke because she was too heavy?
“Would you stop?” he asked. “I’m not trying to insult you, Jocelyn. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you are the one looking for the insults?”
“How dare you,” she said. “You have no idea what I’ve endured my entire life because of the way I look.”
“You’re right,” he said simply. “I don’t because you haven’t told me yet. I just want us to be clear on one point, though. I have never meant to hurt you, not ever. Can you agree with me on that?”
Jocelyn’s flaring temper calmed. He was right. She’d spent her entire life up in arms, cringing, waiting for the next insult or rock to fly at her. She had a lot to learn.
“I apologize,” she said. “Please. Tell me more about your parents. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Michael shrugged and sat back in his chair. “When I saw you, all I wanted to do was protect you from harm,” he said. “If that meant keeping you in this house and away from the herd, that was what I was going to do. If it meant barring you from setting foot on this ranch and sending you back to South Carolina, it was going to be that, too. But you refused to go back, and you were ready to go anywhere as long as it wasn’t here or there, and I couldn’t let that happen, either.”
Jocelyn didn’t know what to think about that. She had felt so defensive the entire time that she’d just thought his attempts to keep her safe has just been belittlement.
“Then I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for overreacting, especially when I didn’t know the whole story. You may be correct. I’ve been subjected to insults for so long that I seem to be always looking for them so I can know when to duck and cover.”
“Tell me about it,” Michael suggested, leaning forward again. The fire played against his blue eyes nicely, but Jocelyn was too conflicted to appreciate the sight.
“I don’t know if it’s something I can talk about,” she said. “I’ve never had anyone to talk about it, not even my parents. They would’ve made things worse. All I had was God, the bible, and my prayers, and for a time, I was convinced none of that worked because it never stopped.”
“I’m here for you,” Michael said. The simple admission opened the floodgates. Jocelyn poured out all of her years of hatred and torment, how she’d prayed for God to change her body, then prayed for God to make them stop, then learned to pray for God to make her stronger, to give her the ability to bear this load.
Jocelyn had never thought those prayers were fair. Why did she have to adapt to the insults and teasing? Why did she have to harden herself against all of her peers? Couldn’t the Lord have taken some of that away from her, helped her just a little bit? The attacks against her appearance had never abated. They’d only grown less frequent after she completed her schooling, and that was just because she didn’t see her old classmates as often.
There was never a time she went to town that there wasn’t some kind of incident, something designed to make her feel bad about herself.
She didn’t realize that she was holding Michael’s hands until she stopped talking and took a deep breath.
Jocelyn didn’t know if she’d reached out to him or if he’d reached out to her, but the fact remained that they were holding on to each other for all they were worth.
“I’m sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hands as if she’d been burned. “Listen to me going on and on. I completely took over the conversation.”
“You had something to say,” Michael said, folding his hands back in his lap. Jocelyn looked at them just lying there with some amount of regret. That had been the first time she’d held hands with anyone but her parents. Even when the teacher had directed them to hold hands for some activity or event, everyone had always flat out refused, pinching Jocelyn until she’d been forced to become adept at faking the appearance of holding hands with the little monsters on either side of her.
It had been nice with Michael — a human connection. Feeling his fingers threaded through her own had imparted a sort of strength, helping her talk about things she’d kept locked inside of her for so long.
“I’m so sorry that all of that happened to you,” he added. “Kids can be monstrous sometimes, but this sounds like it went way beyond that.”
“It’s the whole reason I did the mail order bride service,” Jocelyn confessed. “I thought that would be my only way out of my torment.”
Michael nodded slowly, absorbing all of this new information. She knew the hour had to be late, but neither of them made a move to admit exhaustion.
“I thought about giving up the ranch when my parents died,” Michael said. “It had been their idea to come out here in the first place. I was just a boy when we first arrived. It had been hard, but good — and even better when we started seeing some success. Losing them was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through, but I decided to keep the ranch in their honor. I’ve never known anything else, besides.”
Jocelyn couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry. Maybe, if she wasn’t as big as she was, Michael wouldn’t have had the sudden urge to protect her from everything. Maybe he couldn’t have had his dream of adventures and cattle drives with his wife. Who knew? Maybe someday, he would find the woman who would make that dream come true.
“It’s late,” Michael observed, craning his neck to read the timepiece over the fireplace. “Very late. You must be very tired from your travels.”
“The train was comfortable enough,” Jocelyn said. “It’s not like riding a horse, you know. Nothing physical about trains. You just have to sit and be patient.”
“You can take my parents’ room,” Michael said. “I’ve been sleeping in my old boyhood room lately. If you’d like, I could go out and sleep in the cottage. I want you to feel comfortable here.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” Jocelyn said quickly, remembering how he’d said that he couldn’t bear to so much as look at the cottage. Asking him to spend a night in it would be too much. “I could go out to the cottage, if you like. This is your ranch, after all.”
“No,” Michael said, shaking his head. “God only knows what’s out there. It’s not been aired out for two years now. You’ll be comfortable in my parents’ room. I’m right down the hallway, so it’s separated. There’s a lock on your door.”
‘Thank you for your hospitality,” Jocelyn said as they both rose from their chairs. “You really didn’t have to put me up here, you know.”
“I couldn’t have let you end up in some strange city, burning through your money,” he said. “I hope you’ll have a clearer picture of what you want to do in the morning. Good night.”
Jocelyn took a nightgown out of her trunk once she had locked the door to the room and changed. She hadn’t noticed before, when she and Michael had been talking, just how tired she was. Maybe there wasn’t anything physical about trains, but a long journey like the one she’d just taken was exhausting.
She knew, settling down in bed, that she should pray, but her mind was surprisingly blank. Usually, she prayed for strength to bear the weight of the insults, to not crumple beneath them. However, Michael had made it exceedingly clear to her that he had never and would never insult her.
That part of her life had passed. Jocelyn actually laughed a little at the utter relief that flooded through her. Come what may, that painful period was over.
“Thank you, Lord, for seeing me through to this day,” she prayed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Thank you for making me strong. Thank you for giving me the courage to finally leave. Thank you, too, for Michael. I don’t know your plans for us, but he has already been a blessing.”
She’d never talked to anyone like she’d been able to talk with Michael. It had been freeing, in a way.
“Help Michael see how strong you’ve made me, Lord,” Jocelyn whispered. “Help him see that I’m much more than what I look like on the outside. Help me prove myself to him. Please keep my parents in good health and happiness. Thank you for seeing me safely to California. Amen.”
Jocelyn had meant to open her eyes after her prayers to take in her unfamiliar surroundings one last time, but she was too fast asleep to do so.
The next morning, she awoke refreshed. She dressed quickly and splashed water from a basin onto her face. It had cooled considerably during the night, and the water was ice cold, but it only made her feel more alive.
This was the first day of the rest of Jocelyn’s life, and she was going to enjoy it no matter what.
She located the larder and got breakfast going as she boiled some coffee. For some reason, even the food seemed to smell better. Maybe it was the crisp air, or the altitude. Jocelyn was so used to the swelter of South Carolina that the relatively low humidity at the ranch was a rare treat.
The sun had just peeked above the horizon when Michael appeared, yawning.
“I can’t believe you’re already awake,” he said, clearly still very bleary from slumber.
“I feel great,” she said. “I can’t believe you slept so late. Here, have this. Maybe it’ll wake you up.”
She handed him a cup of coffee and his eyebrows shot up the moment he tasted it.
“Wow,” he said, impressed. “I am obviously terrible at making coffee.”
“Or maybe I’m just that good at making it,” she said, smiling. “Would you like some breakfast? It’s nearly ready now.”
“It was the smell that woke me up,” he said, sitting at the table and continuing to sip at his coffee in amazement. “I’ve never smelled anything so good.”
“Well, I hope it tastes just as good as it smells,” she said. Jocelyn couldn’t explain her good mood. Yesterday had been a terribly emotional day. Perhaps the outpouring of all that pain and hurt had left her empty, and happiness had filled that hole. She didn’t want to question when good things happened.
“Lord have mercy,” Michael groaned, his mouth full of bacon and biscuit and gravy and egg. “Jocelyn, you have a rare gift.”
“I think it’s just been that long since you’ve had a good meal,” she said.
“No, I’m serious,” he said, unable to keep himself from stuffing another forkful in his mouth. “Even when I was still eating home cooking, it wasn’t like this. This is like an angel landed from heaven and guided your recipe.”
“I think that’s the highest praise I’ve ever received,” Jocelyn said, laughing. “What are you doing today? Anything I can help with?”
“I usually start the day with the cattle, making sure they’re all right,” he said. “I’d rather you didn’t accompany me. They’re sometimes restless in the morning.”
“I can hold my own, Michael,” she said. “Especially if I’m on a horse.”
He shook his head. “Maybe we can go riding some other time,” he said. “Thank you for breakfast.”
He left, and Jocelyn tried not to be stung at the obvious dismissal. Michael had assured her that he’d never deliberately insult her, and she believed that. In addition, she didn’t want to ruin her good mood. She was sure she could find plenty of things to keep her busy.
The next few days passed quickly, and soon it had been nearly a month since Jocelyn had first gotten off the train. She didn’t believe it when she realized just how much time had passed. She was too engrossed with cooking and cleaning, keeping up with the chores around the house and the barn.
She’d even taken on the cottage as a surprise to Michael. His schedule was easy enough to learn, and she only went there when he was well away driving the cattle.
It wasn’t too bad inside — just very dusty. At first, though, it had felt like a time capsule. The bed was unmade, and there were dishes in the sink that she had to scour for hours. The cottage had been left the exact same way as it had been on the day when Michael’s parents had died.
She aired it out, did laundry, banished the inch or so of dust coating every surface, and did everything she could to make it inhabitable again. Whatever happened, Michael shouldn’t be alone out here. He should hire a ranch hand, and now that person could live in the cottage.
“I have a surprise for you,” she told him one day, after they’d finished lunch.
“Dessert?” he asked, brightening.
“Better than dessert,” she said, and led him out to the cottage. “I’ve cleaned it out. For your ranch hand.”
Michael looked quietly at everything for so long that Jocelyn was afraid he was angry.
“I didn’t come here and didn’t come here,” he said. “I knew I had left it so long that whatever would be inside would tarnish my memory of my parents. Thank you, Jocelyn, for doing this. I didn’t ask you for it and you didn’t have to do it, but I’m glad you did.”
He hugged her for a long time, and she hugged him right back.
Then, a funny thing happened. For some reason, Jocelyn tipped her head up. For some other reason, Michael dipped his head down.
They kissed, long and chaste and sweet, and it was as if the birds were singing only for them.
Parting breathlessly, they stared at each other for a time.
“I don’t know why I did that,” Michael said. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“I liked it,” Jocelyn said shyly. “I’d like it if you did it again.”
So they did, and the sunlight warmed Jocelyn’s shoulders just as much as his hands on the small of her back did.
“What would you say about staying longer here on the ranch?” he asked. “Longer like forever. Forever as in my wife.”
“Adventures?” Jocelyn asked. “Cattle drives?”
“Don’t press your luck,” Michael warned. “I only said we could give the ranch life a try for you.”
Jocelyn frowned. She’d loved the romanticism of a cattle drive and wanted to go with him. Was that just another thing she’d never experience, like true love?
“I’m going to prove myself to you,” she announced. “I’m going to impress you into letting me go on the cattle drive.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Jocelyn,” he said. “You know how I feel about risks now, so I’d appreciate it if you showed me that respect.”
“What would you consider stupid?” she asked, cocking her head. She didn’t wait for his answer. Instead, she ran toward the barn, where his horse was grazing, still saddled for Michael’s afternoon with the cattle.
“Hey!” he yelled behind her, but she didn’t look back. It had always astounded her tormentors at how fast she could run, when she had a reason to.
She hopped nimbly astride the horse, wishing she had breeches on instead of her dress. That was all right. She’d do just fine.
“Let’s go!” she yelled at the horse, and it took off at a startled gallop. Jocelyn brought it around expertly just in time to see Michael stop in his tracks, dumbfounded.
She laughed and tossed her hair in the wind, enjoying the feeling of the gallop around the fields. She approached a small rock and urged the horse over it, a graceful leap easily clearing the boulder. The horse soared even higher at the next pass, apparently enjoying jumping. It was a good little jumper for a ranch horse.
Jocelyn turned the horse on a dime and let it trot back toward Michael. She leapt down while it was still walking and handed him the reins.
“Adventures,” she said. “And cattle drives.”
“Anywhere you want to go,” he said, kissing her deeply again.