Chapter 14
The Letter

The moment the words “a new wife” were out of Pa’s mouth, I felt a rush of warmth race into me. I’d never actually thought such a thing could be possible, knowing how Pa had felt about Mrs. Parrish. But they had been getting friendlier, and . . . well, it just seemed too good to be true!

The very idea of her as . . . as . . . the idea was just too wonderful to think about! Both my hands went to my cheeks in shocked reaction. My face was flamed, and in my brain already little bells were going off—wedding bells! I hardly stopped in that passing moment of bliss to remember Rev. Rutledge, and the look I had seen on his face when he looked at Mrs. Parrish. And I didn’t hear too well what Pa said next, I was too busy thinking about Mrs. Parrish.

Finally I became aware of Pa’s voice again. “ . . . so you see, that’s why all the fuss with the newspapers, I had to investigate, you know, and find just the right woman. It’s always a gamble, because you can’t see no picture and you don’t know if they’re tellin’ you the whole truth about themselves. But you gotta do the best you can and hope things’ll turn out okay.

“Well, I looked in them papers and sent some letters out to an agency in the East that said they’d advertise for me what I was lookin’ for in a woman, and I read about some women whose names were in that Sacramento paper Mrs. Parrish was kind enough to get for me, but none of them seemed quite right. I told ’em not to put my name in any paper within five hundred miles of New York. And, well, this here’s finally my answer. I already wrote her back and I told her about the trouble with the law, but that I was a decent man. I don’t reckon we’ll hear back from her for a couple of months, but after that, if she’s still of a mind to come, I figure it’ll be the best thing fer all of us.”

Pa pulled a white envelope out of his pocket and held it up for us to see. It was rumpled. I could tell he’d read it two or three times already.

Then Pa started to read the letter out loud to us:

Dear Mr. Drummond Hollister,

My name is Katie Morgan. I am from southern Virginia, as you will see from the address on my letter. I saw your advertisement in the newspaper from Raleigh south of here. I have never been married. I am thirty years old and now live with my younger sister. But she is to be married in two months. She and I have lived with an elderly aunt and uncle for twenty years, since our parents were killed in the Black Hawk War in 1832. Our uncle has not been well recently and died three months ago. Our aunt is returning to New York to live the rest of her days with another aunt, her sister. With my sister marrying, I feel it is time for me to seek a new life for myself.

I have not had many adventures in my life, though eight years ago a young entrepreneur (that’s what he called himself) from New York asked me to marry him and come to live in the big city. That would have been an adventure, but I felt it my duty to remain with my aunt and uncle. Now, however, I feel perhaps the time for my life’s adventure has come. My parents dreamed of settling in the West, but after they were killed by Chief Black Hawk’s followers, my sister and I were sent back to Virginia. Now perhaps it is time to realize their hope, and mine. I have dreamed of travelling to California ever since 1849.

I am not beautiful, but neither am I altogether plain. I am quite short, with brown hair, a good complexion, and rather stocky build. I am not accustomed to niceties, for we have never had money to spare. I like children, and animals. I know hard work and do not mind it. I am anxious enough to come to California that I will spend the little I have saved to get me there. I have saved only about half the $450, however, required to make the sea voyage by way of Panama. If you would like to see me, and would send the rest of what I need to complete the trip to Sacramento, I will stay for a month. You do not need to marry me if you do not care to. I am determined not to be a spinster, and in California I do not doubt I will be able to find a suitable man. I am not overbearing, but neither am I timid—or so my aunt has always told me.

I would like to know about your children. Your advertisement said you also live with your wife’s brother? And of course, I am most interested in you. I hope to hear from you soon.

Very truly yours,
Kathryn Hubbard Morgan.

The room was silent a minute.

I had my own thoughts and emotions swimming around inside my brain trying to get over the shock of Pa getting married again—and to a stranger.

Uncle Nick had got over his initial whooping and hollering and was now sitting quietly, staring down at the floor. I reckon he was thinking about Ma, because he finally said, “It don’t hardly seem like the right way of treatin’ the memory of my sister, Drum, writin’ off for some mail-order bride you never seen!”

Pa took in a deep breath, as if the words stung him a bit. A quick flash of pain went across his face, but it was lost as he answered Uncle Nick.

“I know what you’re thinkin’, Nick. I been strugglin’ with the same thing for weeks an’ weeks. But I gotta think this is what Aggie’d want.”

He stopped, took another lungful of air, then added, “It’s for her kids too, Nick—mine and Aggie’s—that I’m doin’ it. I gotta see to the raisin’ of her kids—and I gotta do somethin’ better’n what you and me can give ’em!”

Again it was quiet and nobody said anything for a long time.

“Will we have to call her Ma, Pa?” asked Becky after a spell.

There was such an innocent worry in her voice. But Pa didn’t chuckle or even crack a smile. He just got up, went over and picked Becky up in his great big arms and looked into her face. Then he smiled, trying to put her mind at ease.

“You’ll always have just one Ma, Becky, and nobody’s gonna ever take her place. You’ll call her Miss Morgan at first, and then later maybe Mrs. Hollister, or Miss Kathryn. I don’t rightly know, Becky. Maybe you’ll even find you like havin’ another woman about the place, kinda like an aunt or somethin’. But I doubt any of you’ll ever call her Ma.”

“What’ll she be like, Pa?”

“That I don’t know, Becky! That’s somethin’ we’re all gonna just have to wait to find out.”