Cat's Meow (Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs #6) Page 2
Arnie grimaced in disgust. “Women can be so foolish when it comes these issues. For those two years the man used you to provide a distraction from the monotony of his life and for entertainment. I hope you never let him talk you into going to his bed.”
Catherine sucked in her breath with indignation. “Arnie, how dare you suggest such a thing.”
Arnie ignored her protest. “The entire time you continued to live off my mother’s resources instead of being married and letting your husband support you. You should have taken him to court for breach of contract since in the end he didn’t marry you.”
“Except there was never an offer of marriage. Yes, I thought there was an unspoken agreement. However, it must have been only on my part, because he never asked for my hand. There never was a contract, verbal or written.”
Arnie shook his head. “You never were too bright, Catherine. You should have seen he was using you. And, while you waited on him, life passed you by, along with the chance to make a good marriage.”
Catherine bit her tongue and struggled to not glare at her oaf of a cousin. How dare he criticize her that way? After all, her aunt—his mother—had started to weaken over two years before she died. The last year she had needed constant care. If Catherine had not been there as a constant companion and nurse for her aunt, would Arnie have set aside his business and come to care for her? Would he have brought his mother into his home and left it up to his wife to care for her mother-in-law? No. Manfred or no Manfred, Catherine had more than sufficiently earned her keep the past several years.
Instead of lashing out at him, she kept her words soft. “I suppose I see that now. At the time I felt it important to be patient. Even Auntie Sophie counseled patience. She said sometimes men need time to get their affairs in order so they can get a house and their finances set up in order to provide for a wife.”
Catherine watched Arnie look away and twitch his eyebrows. He might fault her, but at least he wasn’t going to speak ill of the dead, especially on the day he buried his own mother.
He looked back at her. “Just be aware, Catherine, you will need to make other provisions for yourself. And before you ask, I cannot offer you a home with me. My wife informs me we are expecting a fourth child, and there isn’t room, even if she was willing to have a spinster cousin under foot and sharing her kitchen. You’ll have until the end of June at the latest. I’ll let you know if you need to vacate earlier.”
~o0o~
On the way to take the extra food to Pastor Simpson and his wife, Catherine thought about the edict she had just received from her cousin. She had always considered him an odd duck, but had figured the reason they never got along well was because of the difference in age. Now she knew, it was him. How self-centered.
Unfortunately, when it came to the house and his mother’s belongings, he had the right to make the choices he made. As her only child, he would have received them even without the terms of both her uncle’s will and her aunt’s. As much as she had not appreciated his attitude, she did not begrudge him his inheritance. It was just she had not thought where that would leave her—homeless. Why had she always assumed he would let her pay a reasonable rent and stay in the house?
As for Caroline’s offer, she would never consider it except as an absolute last resort. Catherine had never seen the one room soddy her sister and husband called home. However, from the way Caroline had described it, it was no bigger than her aunt’s family sitting room. It was hardly large enough for Caroline, her husband and Emma. Then there were Caroline’s tales of the roof leaking after weeks of heavy rain, and insects dropping from the ceiling onto her head or in the food she was preparing. Catherine shuddered at that thought. No, her husband never would be able to afford to build her sister a clapboard house with white painted siding if Catherine lived there and further drained their resources.
Catherine knew she needed to do something, but she had no idea what. By the time she arrived at the Simpson’s door, food in hand, tears streamed down her face.
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CHAPTER 3
~o0o~
Two Sundays after her aunt’s funeral, and two weeks since Catherine had burdened her pastor and his wife with her cousin’s edict and her uncertainty about her future, Pastor Simpson asked her to meet with him in his office after church. Once there, he handed her several newspaper. “Catherine, I asked the conductor on the Kansas Pacific Railroad…” Pastor Simpson shook his head. “I can’t get used to calling it the Union Pacific now. To me, the Union Pacific is the one that runs up north through Nebraska and Wyoming. Anyway, I asked him to pick me up some big city newspapers along the line. I’ve enjoyed reading through them, and now I’d like to pass them along to you.”
Her mouth hanging open in disbelief, Catherine reached for the stack of folded papers. “Thank you, pastor. I would enjoy reading through them.”
“You might find something in the advertisements sections. In the Topeka paper, I noticed one advertisement from a bridal agency in Colorado. The owner is looking for women interested in becoming wives to some of the miners in one of the mountain towns. The mining company is even providing homes for the men who marry. If you think that might interest you, you should write to the agency.”
Catherine looked up and studied her pastor’s face. She had heard of companies that matched up brides with grooms through advertisements and correspondence, but had never considered it for her. She waited for that feeling to come telling her there was something wrong with her seeking a long-distance relationship with a stranger with the intent of it leading to marriage. That feeling didn’t come.
“I’m not sure what is right for you, Catherine. I do suggest you look at the possibilities and pray about them. You’ll make the right decision for you.”
Walking home that day with the stack of newspapers on her arm, Catherine asked herself if she really would consider moving all the way out to Colorado. That would put her farther away from her sister. That was a bad thing. It would put her even farther away from Arnie. That was a good thing. She knew she shouldn’t feel so negative about a family member, but after the ordeal of inventorying the house with him and putting up with his criticisms of her without a word of thanks for all the care she gave his mother in her final years, Catherine doubted she ever wished to see the man again.
Then again, the same railroad that would take her to Colorado was the same one that could bring her back to visit her sister. She had always heard miners were paid well, better than some occupations. Surely if she married a miner, he would agree to her either going back to see her sister every few years or sending for her sister to come to her for a visit.
What Catherine knew for sure was at that point in time, her life and her heart were as flat as the Kansas plains on which she had lived most of her years. She needed something to lift her heart and raise her spirits. Maybe finding the right husband to build a future with high in the mountains of Colorado would do that for her. She would at least write to whoever owned the bridal agency and ask for more information.
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CHAPTER 4
~o0o~
Catherine felt elated as she entered the church that morning. She had contacted the owner of the Colorado Bridal Agency, a Mrs. Lizett Millard, who had asked her to complete an application and send a letter about herself written in her own handwriting. Mrs. Millard had explained she used a new science called graphology to match her potential brides and grooms. She usually was able to connect each bride with one man, but sometimes up to three. She would keep the original letters for her files, but send copies of the letters to the matches with instructions to once again write to each other and share information about each other to better become acquainted.
For the miners in Colorado, she needed as many brides as would be interested to be up there on Independence Day weekend to meet the men in person and make their final choice
of husbands. That suited Catherine just fine. Arnie had already contacted her to tell her the house had been sold and the new family wished to move in the last weekend in June. Pastor Simpson and his wife had volunteered to let her stay as their guest for a few days before she boarded the train for Denver to meet up with Mrs. Millard. From there the marriage broker who would escort the brides to Jubilee Springs, the town where all the miners lived. She had never heard of Jubilee Springs before, probably because it was a fairly new community.
Mrs. Millard had matched her with two miners, Harold Calloway and Aaron Brinks. Both seemed very nice and acceptable, but Harold’s letters were the ones that resonated with her. Aaron seemed like a quieter person. He told the bare facts about how he had come to Jubilee Springs to work in the mine, had persuaded his parents to relocate there with their mercantile, and how he currently lived above their store, occasionally helping out when he wasn’t at work. He went to church, which was a plus. However, most of both of his letters dealt with some book he was reading at the time. In the first letter, the book he described had a French-looking title that she tried to sound out. It looked like Less Miserables to her. She had shaken her head in disbelief when she first read that letter. She wanted to know more about him; she didn’t want a book report.
On the other hand, Harold was more forthcoming about himself and the town. It was from him she learned a little about the mine where he worked and the rest of the town other than the mercantile. There were more services in town than she had supposed would be in a fairly new mining town isolated high in the Rocky Mountains west of Denver. He shared funny stories about the men he worked with and the things that happened at the mine. Just the tone of his letters gave her the impression he was a good man and would make a good husband. They would be compatible at the very least, and their marriage might eventually develop an even deeper relationship.
Catherine knew she was expected to meet both men in person before she made a final choice. However, she already knew which one she would probably choose to in the end—Harold Calloway.
After the services, Catherine found herself approached by two women who had heard the news she shortly would be leaving for Colorado. She hated to say goodbye. These women had been her friends in school. The three of them had attended church and town socials together. True, in recent years they had drifted apart somewhat. Catherine quickly learned that once she helped her friends with their weddings and waved them off to their new lives as wives, those friends and their husbands quickly began to associate with other married couples. Especially once her friends announced they were in the family way, it seemed like they no longer had much in common with Catherine. Then, too, Catherine had recently been tied up with caring for her aunt, the terminal illness of a family member always a frightening prospect for young couples.
Yes, Catherine had tamped down her own disappointment. She had wasted years of her life expecting Manfred to propose, but she refused to place the blame on him for leaving her in this condition. She had to admit there had never been a formal engagement. Although she thought she had loved him, perhaps she should have ended the courtship sooner when no offer of marriage had been tendered to her. She offered heartfelt congratulations to her friends when they married, but it didn’t change the fact her friends found they had more common ground for conversation with other young or expectant mothers than with their spinster childhood friend.
Catherine did find it gratifying that now she was leaving, her childhood friends sought her out to say their farewells and to tell her how much they would miss her. After all, if either Manfred or another man in the region had married her, she would have easily and happily joined their ranks. By making the choice she had, she would be married soon, possibly in as soon as a month. However, it would be in a different state. She may never see or hear from her friends again. She wiped tears from her eyes as she spoke to her friends who shared tears of sorrow with her.
Then Catherine noticed another childhood friend standing off to the side—Andrea Dalton. Andrea was a couple of years younger than Catherine, and Catherine had not had much interaction with the young woman in the previous decade. Shortly after Catherine and her sister came to live with Aunt Sophie, Andrea had left school. Her mother had died, and her father required her and her older sister, Olivia, who was closer to Catherine in age, to stay home and take care of the house. Only Olivia had run away and gotten married at the age of sixteen, leaving what her father considered the “women’s work” of the ranch to Andrea.
Andrea approached with tentative steps. Before Catherine could dry her eyes and welcome Andrea over, one of her friends spoke to her. “Andrea, have you heard? Our Cat is leaving us.”
Andrea’s mouth dropped open in surprise for a few seconds before she regained her composure. “No, I didn’t know. Where are you going?”
Catherine wiped her eyes with her hankie. She could understand why it was a shock for Andrea. The young woman rarely made it into town, she didn’t attend any community socials, and often didn’t make it to church on Sundays. Word was, her father would often not allow her to attend. It was difficult for her to keep up with events in town.
Catherine could tell Andrea was hesitant to approach, as if not wanting to intrude on something personal. It occurred to her she needed to put aside her own challenges and sorrows and extend a hand of friendship to this quiet, young woman. “Andrea, I’m going to Colorado, to a mining town named Jubilee Springs.”
“Colorado? Whatever for?”
Catherine sniffled. “Well, you know, after my folks passed, my sister and I came to live with my Aunt Sophia. And, I don’t know if you knew, but Auntie passed a little over a month ago.”
Embarrassed, Andrea dropped her eyes to her scuffed boots. “Yes, I heard, Cat. I tried to get away to come to the funeral, but my pa said with spring round-up, we were too busy for me to go, and…” Andrea shrugged her shoulders and finished weakly. “I wanted to bring you a pie or something, but once again my pa…well, I’m so sorry for your loss, Cat. I know you loved her dearly.”
Cat studied Andrea’s rounded shoulders and expression of regret. She knew they were sincere. More than once while Catherine had cared for her aunt, Andrea had managed to bring her something she thought would be helpful. Catherine wrapped her arms around her. “Don’t fret about it, Andrea. I know your pa keeps you busy, and it makes me happy to know you thought of me. I’m just glad Auntie could see my sister married before she left us.”
One of the women reached over and patted Catherine’s shoulder. “Our husbands are looking for us, Cat, and I can hear my little one fussing. You have a good trip if we don’t see you before you leave.”
Catherine straightened and waved farewell to the two women.
Confused, Andrea looked at Catherine. “I know that leaves you alone now, Cat, but why are you moving to Colorado? You still have friends here.”
“I know. Unfortunately, my cousin, Auntie’s son, inherited the house. He doesn’t want to live here anymore, and he wasn’t willing to rent it to me because, as he correctly pointed out, it is unlikely I can find a job where I earn enough to cover the rent. Besides, he wants the money from the sale.” Tears welled up in Catherine’s eyes once more. “I have to be out before the end of the month, Andrea. A new family is moving in.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I’ll be all right. Once my cousin tells me what day I need to be out of the house, I’ll stay with the Simpson’s until I leave. I signed up with a bridal agency. The lady who runs it is searching for prospective wives for ten men in the town of Jubilee Springs. From what her letter of introduction said, I guess the local mine owners felt their workforce would be more stable if some of their men were married with families. They are providing houses and paying part of the train fare for the agency to bring in brides for ten of the miners. So, you see? I’m going to be all right. As much as I will miss everyone here, I’m going to be married soon. I’ll have my own house to live in and I’ll be able to r
aise and care for my own family.”
Her eyes wide with awe, Andrea stepped back. Catherine waited while her friend studied her while thinking about what she had just shared. Was Andrea happy for her, or did she think Catherine was making a big mistake?
With what Catherine felt was an expression of desperation on her face, Andrea grabbed her forearm. “Cat, please, I need to get away. Does this woman in Colorado need more brides for those miners? Is there any way I can get signed up so I can go with you? I…I have some money tucked away. I don’t know if it would be enough for a train ticket, but I really want to go.”
Catherine blinked as she shook her head. “You don’t need to pay the train fare, Andrea. The groom…or in this case, I suppose, the mine owners… pay for everything once you’re signed up. What Mrs. Millard, the owner of the Colorado Bridal Agency, said in her advertisement was that you need to submit a letter of application in your own handwriting telling about you, what you are good at, what you enjoy doing and what you hope to gain from a marriage. From there, she uses the study of handwriting to match you up with one to three men suitable for you to correspond with. I have been writing to two men she matched me up with, and think I know which one I prefer. All it will cost you is postage for the letter.”
Andrea’s shoulders slumped with defeat. “I guess I can’t do this after all, Cat. There is no way I dare receive mail. If Pa were to find out what I was up to, he’s lock me away and never let me come to church again for sure. Besides, I don’t have any money with me for the postage.”
Catherine thought for a moment. She broke into a smile and her eyes sparked with excitement. “I have an idea. Let’s go see if the pastor has some paper. You write your letter before you leave and give it to me. I’ll send it to Lizett Millard with my letter I’m going to send so you won’t need to worry about postage.”