A Fresh Start for Christmas Read online

  “Many are intriguing.” Memphis ran her finger along the paper. “There’s a farmer who works part-time as a deputy and the man I’m considering writing to has a younger brother.”

  “Why did you make an X next to the sawmill owner?” Daisy’s finger traced the description. “His age is thirty and he’s raising his niece and nephew.”

  “You’ll think me shallow.” Memphis sighed. “I want to be sure the man I’m writing to wants a wife and companion. Not someone he sees as a nanny to help him raise his young relatives.”

  Daisy brought the paper closer to her face. “Certainly understandable, especially since all we’ve ever done is look after other people’s children. I wonder if Matron will let me write to him?”

  “Let’s ask.” Memphis raised one eyebrow. “You’re a softy, Daisy Leah. I see right through you.”

  “What makes you say that?” Daisy posted one hand on her hip.

  “I saw the way you looked when you read his description. The idea of a single man with a business to run, taking in two children, melts your heart.”

  “You seem surprised. Are you accusing me of having no compassion?” Daisy huffed.

  “No.” Memphis blinked. “I’m accusing you of kindheartedness.”

  “The feeling is mutual, my friend.” Daisy wrapped her arms around Memphis and patted her back. “The truth is, I immediately pictured a handsome deputy coming home to a white farmhouse with a wide front porch. Then I remembered how much I hate gardening, feeding livestock and such.”

  Memphis dissolved into laughter. “Do you think the sawmill owner’s wife wouldn’t have a garden or chickens?”

  “Exactly. I’ll make my preference clear in my first letter.” Daisy giggled.

  “Before we write to anyone, Reverend Jackson wants to meet with me to discuss the rest of the five-point plan.” Memphis tapped her bottom lip.

  “Five-point plan?”

  “A strategy he and his pastor friends put together, based on the story of Isaac and Rebekah.” Memphis retrieved her Bible from an overturned crate serving as her nightstand and turned to the marked page and passed it to her friend. “Abraham sent a servant to the land of his ancestors to seek a wife of like faith for Isaac. In the same manner, the committee has reached out to believers whose goal is to connect Christian men and women seeking matrimony. Each man on this list has a recommendation from their pastor and other members of their community.” Memphis reached for the paper. “Reverend Jackson asked me to pray and seek God’s will for two weeks. Then he gave me this list. We’re to meet tomorrow after church to choose one to begin correspondence with.”

  ***

  Memphis joined the reverend in his office after the worship service. She clutched her Bible to her chest and lowered herself onto a soft leather chair next to Mrs. Shelby.

  Wearing his Sunday suit and bright white shirt, the pastor’s gray eyes brightened with his smile. “Well, ladies, we’re clear on our task. We’ve gone to the best source and prayed fervently. I admit I’ve looked forward to hearing your decision, Memphis Rose. Have you considered the important qualities you’d appreciate in a husband?”

  “I have.” Memphis cleared her throat. “All the men on the list are men of faith, good character and strong work ethic.”

  The pastor nodded. “Yes, which was by design. Are there other characteristics you would enjoy in a husband? Perhaps someone with a lot of money, strong and good-looking?” He ran his finger through his receding hairline and grinned. “Or one with thick curly hair?”

  “It would be pleasant if we shared common interests like music and literature. Most of all, I would like a husband who is loyal and kind.” Memphis felt her cheeks burn.

  “Tell Reverend Jackson about the one man, in particular, you feel drawn to.” Mrs. Shelby leaned forward and squeezed Memphis’s hand.

  “His name is Mike Montgomery. He’s a widower with no children and owns the livery stable with his brothers. He plays the banjo and the violin.” Memphis forced a smile.

  “Seems a good choice.” The pastor rubbed his chin. “I’ve known you since you were a child and can tell when something’s bothering you. What is it?”

  Memphis felt her stomach roll. “It seems forward for me to write first. What if he doesn’t respond?”

  “We’ll move on.” The pastor snapped his finger and retrieved his Bible. “Remember when Abraham’s servant met with Rebekah’s family, he left the decision to them. The best we can do is to follow the Lord’s prompting and get out of the way.”

  Memphis met the pastor’s gaze. “I’m nervous about this, but you’re right. If God wants me to leave the orphanage and have a home of my own, He will open the door.”

  “I’ve hit many a closed door in my time, dear. Sometimes you must go back and knock again.” Mrs. Shelby gave her a curt nod.

  “If this young man doesn’t work out, there are plenty of others to consider, including my favorite—the young pastor.” Reverend Jackson clasped his hands behind his back. “There’s no need to rush into anything. Abraham was an old man when God called him to go to a place of unknown origin.”

  Mrs. Shelby inclined her head. “I have such a peace about this. Last night I dreamed about you. You were standing on a front porch holding a newborn and surrounded by children.”

  “Not too many children, I hope?” Memphis laughed.

  Chapter 6

  “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  Mike Montgomery made long strides from the livery toward the house of his youngest sister, Maggie. With arms crossed, he stared at the two-storied Victorian. The bay windows trimmed in white sparkled in the morning sun.

  With a deep breath, he opened the gate of the picket fence. His mouth twitched when the aroma of lavender welcomed him. Although not related by birth, his adopted sister mirrored his mother’s skill in the garden. His work boots made thuds on the porch. He passed the entrance to Maggie’s husband’s and father-in-law’s medical practice and tapped on the front door. Placing his hand over his vest pocket, he felt the thickness of the envelope buried inside. His head dropped to his chest. Who would have thought he’d go to his baby sister for advice?

  Framed in blond curls, Maggie’s face broke into a bright smile. “This is a surprise. Come in.” She took his Stetson and placed it on the bench beside the door.” Blue-green eyes fringed in dark lashes widened. “I’m not complaining, but it’s unusual to get a visit from my oldest brother. Is everything okay?”

  “I’d like your opinion.” Mike shuffled his feet. “Is now a good time?”

  ”Certainly, I have coffee ready.” Maggie inclined her head, and Mike followed, past the fancy dining room and through the swinging door to the kitchen. The room was similar to his mother’s, bright with a wide aisle between the stove sink and work area. Mike took a seat at the table while Maggie filled two cups.

  He rubbed his jaw. “Remember a couple of weeks ago when the family was enjoying themselves at my expense about the matchmaking service?”

  “I do.” Maggie squeezed his hand. “You know we love you and want you to be happy, right?”

  “Yes, which makes it slightly easier to put up with.” He pinched his nose. “That buffoon brother of ours mailed the questionnaire.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows drew together. “From the look on your face, I suppose he did so without your consent?”

  “Correct. I’m still not convinced I want anything to do with this scheme.” Mike reached into his pocket. “I received a letter from one of the women.” He extended the envelope.

  “How exciting.” Maggie removed the paper, which included a tintype. Her fingers outlined the photograph. “She’s lovely. Such beautiful eyes.”

  “A nice-looking woman, I’ll admit.” Mike rubbed the
back of his neck. “Go ahead and read it.”

  Maggie nodded.

  Dear Mr. Montgomery,

  My name is Memphis Rose Griffin. I am twenty-eight years old and have been a teacher at the Counting Stars Children’s Home since I was fifteen. I feel a sort of kinship with you and your family because the matron of our orphanage is a friend of your mother. Mrs. Maude Shelby has delighted us over the years with various stories that include both your parents. I wonder if your mother may have spoken of her as well.

  Maggie rested her hand over her throat. “This is the young woman Mama and I picked out. But I didn’t make the connection about Maude. Isn’t it a small world?”

  “Why do I feel as though no one is listening to me? Mags, you’re still a newlywed and want everyone to be as happy as you are at this moment.” Mike swallowed. “I know the heartbreak when things don’t go as planned. I cannot handle losing a wife or a child again.”

  “Try and consider how different your situation is now.” Maggie cradled her slightly rounded belly with her arm, then met his gaze. “I understand your fears. You live close to Mama and two excellent doctors. If complications were to develop, your wife would have the assistance of professionals with years of experience.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s still hard for me to believe my baby sister is married and soon to be a mother.” He rose from his chair. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Maggie grabbed his arm. “Please sit and let me finish the letter, at least.”

  Mike felt a hardening in his stomach as he slid back in the chair. “I’ve never understood why I find it impossible to say no to you.”

  The freckles on her nose scrunched together. “Because you’re my oldest and sweetest brother, you realize I’m always right.”

  “Hm. Okay, brat, read on.” Mike placed his head in his hands.

  My mother, Georgia Moody Griffin combined resources with Mrs. Shelby during the war, and out of necessity, founded the children’s home. Thankfully I have little memory of wartime. My mother dedicated her life to the education of the children. The orphanage is the only home I’ve ever known. Although there were struggles monetarily and we grew up on a daily diet of rice and beans, my childhood was a happy one.

  In recent years, our supply has improved since the institution maintains a small farm where we grow our vegetables, raise chickens and a few other farm animals.

  “It’s fate, Mike. Both of your mothers were named after states.” Maggie grabbed his arm. “Wait until Pa hears her name starts with the letter, M.”

  Mike scowled. “Is that all you got from the first paragraph? Her mother’s name and the fact her name starts with the same letter as ours?”

  “Of course not.” Maggie squinted at the paper. “Let me read the next section.”

  Tragedy struck during the summer of 1878 when the yellow fever epidemic made its way to our orphanage. At the time, a few of the girls and I were quarantined in the main portion of the house, attending the infants and young children. Within a few months, more than half of those in residence, including my mother, passed away.

  His sister blinked. “How heartbreaking. Oh Mike, can you imagine?”

  “No. The few times we were quarantined for measles and such, Ma and Pa were there to take care of us. Sure can’t imagine a bunch of kids trying to care for each other.”

  Maggie smoothed the paper and cleared her throat.

  I promised my mother I would take her place as teacher and felt it would be a lifetime commitment. Recently when this unique opportunity was presented, I took the time to consider what my dreams would have been if tragedy hadn’t changed my life completely. My pastor encouraged me to summon my courage, so I’ve taken pen and paper to draft this letter to you.

  His sister gave him a slow smile. “Hear that? She chose you.”

  “Read on, sister.” Mike huffed.

  My favorite color is green, although I’m also partial to blue. As far as hobbies go, when I can spare the time, I sketch and enjoy sewing. Besides academics, I teach piano to those students who have the desire to learn. I can’t think of the last time I played for pleasure, but I intend to make amends this evening after supper.

  “I knew I would like her. She sketches and plays the piano.” Maggie tapped the paper.

  “Read on, Mags.”

  I have several favorite books. It’s difficult to narrow the choice. For now, I will say anything written by Jules Verne. I confess to being surprised at your answer. I’ve never read Pride and Prejudice, although it is a favorite here among many and is currently checked out of our library. I find myself on a waiting list and won’t be able to read the novel for a week or two. I wonder if you could tell me, in particular, what you enjoy about the story?

  “I remember your answer was Moby Dick.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Moses changed your answer.”

  “Which is another reason I threw him in the horse trough. He’s lucky I didn’t punch him square in the mouth.”

  Maggie clutched her side and laughed. “He deserved a good soaking. Excluding the fact he changed your answer, I’m thrilled he mailed the survey.”

  “Which makes two of you.” Mike returned the papers and tintype to the envelope. He traced the script of his name written in neat penmanship. “The strange thing is after reading her letter, I’m intrigued. When I looked at her likeness, it was almost as though I could hear her speaking.”

  “From my perspective, she seems perfect. Nevertheless, it shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks or wants except you.”

  Mike met his sister’s gaze. “Surprisingly, I find myself interested and would like to correspond with her.”

  His sister broke into a wide grin. “My mother-in-law has a copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

  Chapter 7

  "I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! — When I have a house of my own,

  I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

  ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

  Mike leaned on the railing of his parents’ front porch. His lips twitched at the sound of male crickets singing their courtship song. I’ll need all the encouragement I can get, even if it’s from a bunch of insects. He pinched his nose at the monotone voice of his brother reading from Pride and Prejudice. Mike blew out a breath and glanced around. His youngest brother, Malachi, stared wide-eyed from his perch on the steps and Maggie and B.J. watched with narrowed eyes and scowls from the wrought-iron swing.

  His father motioned toward his brother with his Sunday cigar. “Moses, whose idea was it to change your brother’s answer on the questionnaire?”

  His younger brother straightened. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Which is why your retribution is just. Since we are keen to learn why this book should be so highly recommended, kindly read with a bit more enthusiasm.” Michael Montgomery’s eyes twinkled at his son.

  “Mike, I thought you already wrote to her and dodged the question.” Moses’s eyebrows drew together.

  “True. The thing is, I enjoyed the letter and didn’t want to put her off, so I expanded on her comment about Jules Verne. I enjoy his work as well.” Mike felt his face flush.

  “Maggie and I enjoy Around the World in Eighty Days.” His brother-in-law added. “Maybe after you get to know her better, you can explain the questionnaire mix-up.”

  “I don’t understand why you felt the need to change his answer, Mo.” Maggie huffed. “Moby Dick is thrilling.”

  “I read an article comparing the authors, Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. I knew the story was popular with the ladies, but I thought the storyline was supposed to be funny.” Moses scowled.

  His father puffed his cigar, curled his lips, then exhaled, adding a spinning technique to an alluring stream of small circles wrapped with the rich aroma of tobacco. “From what you’ve read, my preference is Sense and Sensibility. Colonel Brandon is a m
an I can relate to. He’s honorable, loyal, generous and protective of those he loves.”

  “I should have had you fill out the questionnaire, Pa.” Moses grinned. “I didn’t know you were an admirer of her work.”

  Michael Montgomery reached for his wife’s hand. “The sheriff’s wife loaned your mother her copy. We read it together.”

  Mike gazed at his parents, who stared at each other with a silent understanding. They set the standard for happily married. Newlyweds as teenagers, they’d journeyed west in a covered wagon. Settling in Texas before his birth, they’d raised seven children to adulthood and worked as a team for as long as he could remember. His gut clenched. He envied their relationship. Do I have enough courage to try again?

  “Hopefully, one of these male characters will develop into a man of character, the same as Colonel Brandon.” Mike inclined his head toward his father. “Pa, is it okay if someone else reads for a while? Moses’s reading is as flat as the prairie.”

  “More like a tragedy, the way he’s reading it. We’ve all been punished enough.” Maggie reached for the novel.

  “Thank you, Maggie.” Michael Montgomery placed his arm behind his head and leaned back.

  “To be clear, I take responsibility for completing the questionnaire but wasn’t the one who mailed it.” Moses passed the book to Maggie.

  His mother’s knitting needles paused at Moses’s declaration. “Why is everyone looking at me?” Her cheeks pinkened. “If and when we find out who did, I’m quite prepared to express my gratitude. My guess is you’ll be happy about it as well, Mike.”

  ***

  Memphis dismissed her students for the afternoon, then stepped to the back of the room to retrieve the broom.

  “How can you think about sweeping? I’m beyond excited to hear what your beau said in his letter.” Daisy placed the broom in the corner and pulled Memphis toward her desk.

  “When the children leave, I automatically grab the broom.” Memphis laughed. “I’m happy to reread it myself.” She pulled the letter from her apron pocket and leaned on the desk next to Daisy and read.