A Bride for David Page 3
“The children are my main concern. If this means I can keep custody, I’ll do it.” David ran his finger across the neat script containing his name and address on the envelope. “I can’t imagine why she would agree to come after only swapping a couple of letters. Mike and his gal have been writing for months.”
“You raise a good point.” Peter tapped his hand along the letter. “My suggestion is to assure Miss Murphy you will dedicate time to get to know each other and will court her before assuming marital intimacy.”
David’s mouth opened and closed. He felt his face flush. “You want me to say that in a letter to a woman I’ve never met?”
Peter chuckled. “I believe Miss Murphy’s favorite author may have said it best, ‘Desperate times breed desperate measures’”
Chapter 5
On pursuing goals…
“Some math problems require pages of work to reach a simple answer. Even if you have an answer or a goal in mind, the journey there won’t always be easy.”
~ Miss Daisy Leah Murphy
Daisy joined the reverend in his office after church and lowered herself onto a soft leather settee next to Mrs. Shelby.
Reverend Jackson mopped his brow with a large handkerchief, then perched on the end of his desk. In his late sixties, his remaining hair was white and cropped close to his head. His steel-gray eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He removed a folded paper from his Bible and gave Daisy a quick smile. “Well, ladies, we’re clear on our task. Inspired by the account in the book of Genesis of the marriage between Isaac and Rebekah, we’ve prayed fervently to seek God’s will.” The pastor waved two fingers. “In an effort to make matches God would approve of, pastors, family, and friends recommend and vouch for the character of godly men who are seeking women of the same quality. All the men on the list are men of faith, good character, and strong work ethic.”
Mrs. Shelby beamed. “My connection with childhood friends, the Montgomery family, produced our first match for Memphis Rose. And since she has become acquainted with the man you are corresponding with, it’s comforting she finds Mr. Taylor to be a man of good character. To think you will be living in such close proximity with Memphis Rose.”
“I keep hoping one of you girls will select the young pastor who is shepherding his first church west of Dallas.” Reverend Jackson pulled on his ear. “It’s your opinion that matters. As the second volunteer in our new venture, Heaven Inspired Matrimonial Matches, it’s time to move to point three of our five-step plan.”
Daisy clutched her Bible to her chest and swallowed. “Point number three?”
“The making of a good marriage is a personal commitment.” Mrs. Shelby gave Daisy a curt nod.
The pastor snapped his fingers and retrieved his Bible. “Remember when Abraham’s servant met with Rebekah’s family? It’s a beautiful part of the account to hear the servant of Abraham make his case for Isaac. In the same manner, a trusted pastor and friend made a recommendation to you. Tell me, what does Mr. Taylor have to say for himself?”
Daisy forced a smile and retrieved the letter from her Bible. “From his first letter, I know he is thirty-years-old, never married and is raising his niece and nephew. He was excited at my willingness to correspond and hoped to continue a courtship by mail until we can meet in person.”
“Tell Reverend Jackson about your recent letter and then we should discuss the telegram.” Mrs. Shelby squeezed Daisy’s hand.
Daisy unfolded the letter and blew out a breath. “He went into more detail about business and his niece and nephew this time.” She flipped the paper over and read.
Five years ago, I partnered with my brother to purchase a water-powered sawmill. Last year just before the illness and untimely death of my brother and sister-in-law, we were able to buy a 25-horsepower steam engine.
Even though I’m a single man, it was my brother’s and his wife’s desire for the children to live with me. Henry is seven. He is outgoing and precocious. Marigold, who just turned four, is shy, and although she’s made progress in recent months, she doesn’t transition well in new settings. My niece seldom speaks. I have jokingly said she will never need to learn to talk because Henry will speak for her.
“Hmm.” The pastor rubbed his chin. “I admire the man for taking in his niece and nephew and being open and honest about the little girl. What do you think of the situation, Daisy?”
“I appreciate his honesty.” Daisy nodded toward Mrs. Shelby. “The matron and I discussed his niece, as well.”
“We’ve seen it time and again in children when they first come to live at the orphanage. It’s been my experience once we establish a routine and the child knows he or she will have a roof over their head, food to eat, and are in a safe place, they eventually come around. When the child is assigned age-appropriate responsibilities, it helps them to feel more secure.” Mrs. Shelby leaned back in her chair and stared into the distance.
“Her name escapes me at the moment. There was a little girl of about four who came to live with us during the worst of the yellow-fever epidemic. She didn’t say a word for months. Suddenly one day, while we were gathering apples, she burst out in song.” The matron tapped her finger to her temple. “Willow was her name. Her grandfather came for her eventually and took her home with him.”
Daisy laughed. “You’re right. She sang a complete chorus of ‘Turkey in the Straw.’ After that, she never quit talking.”
“Hopefully, the child will come around. What else does your letter say?” Reverend Jackson placed both hands on his knees and leaned forward.
Daisy smoothed the paper and read.
Encouraged by my housekeeper, about six months ago, we began attending church again, even though it meant I was nearly strangled every week by my tiny niece clinging to my neck. Marigold has since shown interest in some of the other children and enjoys sitting between them and her brother during the service. This past Sunday, she’s become especially interested in your friend. Some of the younger girls in town have decided Miss Griffin is a princess from a fairy tale. Marigold seems to agree with them, and much to my nephew’s chagrin, requests I read a princess story every night.
Mrs. Shelby clucked her tongue. “I never cease to be amazed at the way a child’s mind works. Imagine them thinking Memphis Rose is a princess.”
“I wonder if Memphis knows what they’re saying?” Daisy shook her head and continued.
Although I put the dream aside until I could get my business running, I hoped to marry one day. Perhaps you had the same thoughts? I imagined meeting someone special at church or through a mutual friend.
Even though we haven’t met in person, your former roommate, Miss Griffin, has told me a lot about you. I look forward to getting to know you better through our letters.
You asked about my favorite book. Honestly, other than a daily chapter or two of the Bible, I don’t read often. My work and the children keep me so busy I feel grateful to be able to do that much.
Reverend Jackson reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. “Now let’s address the telegrams we’ve received. Due to a pending custody battle, Mr. Taylor needs to speed things up. His attorney states the quicker he can wed, the better his chances will be to keep guardianship of his niece and nephew.”
Daisy flipped to the last page of the letter. “Mr. Taylor mentioned his sister-in-law grew up in a wealthy home. She spent most of her childhood at boarding school. Her desire was for the children to live at home and attend a local school.”
“Let’s take a moment and look again at the story of Isaac and Rebekah.” The pastor reached for his Bible and ran his finger along the page. “After the servant made his petition and gave the accolades about Isaac, he asked her to come with him to marry a man she’d never met. Her response was immediate. She said, ‘I will go.’ With the blessing of her family, Rebekah made her commitment.”
Daisy’s hand flew to her throat. “I expected to be able to correspond for several months.”
The pastor stepped toward Daisy and extended his hand for her Bible, then flipped the pages. “The message of Rebekah’s and Isaac’s marriage account is simple. There is no formal or civil ceremony mentioned. Rather, we find two people who have never met, pledging commitment to each other.” Reverend Jackson returned her Bible and pointed to the verse.
Daisy read, “And Rebekah arose, and her damsels and they rode upon the camels and followed the man.”
Reverend Jackson’s voice lowered. “I’ll tell you the same thing I said to Memphis Rose. The best we can do is to follow the Lord’s prompting and get out of the way.”
Daisy felt her stomach roll. She glanced between the pastor and Mrs. Shelby and forced a smile. “The bad news is no one will be traveling with me. The good news is I won’t be riding a camel.”
Chapter 6
On applying mathematics…
“If you’re overwhelmed, take it one step at a time.”
~ Miss Daisy Leah Murphy
The next week flew by like a whirlwind. Daisy packed her hairbrush and Bible in a second-hand carpet bag, donated by one of the church members. Due to her quick departure, there was little she could do about her wardrobe, but between her roommates and Mrs. Shelby’s Singer sewing machine, she was in possession of a wool walking skirt and two new blouses.
She knelt beside a battered second-hand trunk, given to her by the ladies’ auxiliary group. They’d surprised her this morning with gifts to make any bride proud. Daisy lifted a set of fine linen sheets and placed it amongst two new aprons, towels, table linens and a new nightgown. She closed the lid of a wooden box containing multiple recipes written out by each woman. Her mouth twitched in remembrance of the older women explaining that they were bestowing cherished family secrets upon her. Daisy ran her hand along a thick quilt made in the Star-of-Bethlehem pattern. Varying shades of russet, gold and green fabrics combined into rows of diamond-shaped pieces blended to look like one large star.
The familiar creaking on the attic stairs, combined with the squeaking of boots, alerted her to Magnolia’s approach.
“Mrs. Shelby sent me to hurry you along.”
“I think I have everything.” Daisy’s eyes swept to the small window of the attic room. The morning sunlight illuminated dust particles floating toward the massive timber walls put together with dovetailing and wooden pegs years before the war. She reached for her satchel and cast a backward glance at the young women’s dormitory. Although hot in the summer and frigid in the winter, it was a place to share secrets and dreams of their future with her friends.
Magnolia motioned toward six cots covered in colorful quilts, positioned against the angled walls. “The dormitory won’t feel the same without you.”
“I’m excited to begin my new life.” Daisy took in a deep breath. “Even though this isn’t my idea of the wedding of my dreams, I think I’ve made the right decision.”
“Please remember to be on the lookout when you get to Carrie Town. I’ll expect a full rundown on all the single men on our list.” Magnolia pulled Daisy into a firm embrace. “Now my friend, our very own gardener extraordinaire is waiting to stand in for your groom.”
“Bless Mr. Brady’s heart. I believe he is as nervous about this proxy marriage as I am.” Daisy leaned closer to the small mirror, hanging on a nail in the middle of the narrow room. She blinked at the reflection of her red-rimmed eyes and smoothed her simple dress. “It’s not much of a wedding gown, is it?”
Magnolia smoothed the skirt of the turkey-red calico design and huffed. “Since you and I both wear this same pattern to church each week, I’ll thank you not to insult our Sunday best.”
“You know what I mean.” Daisy scrunched her nose, then stared at her new boots. “It seemed wiser to buy shoes with the money he sent than a new dress.”
“Always practical.” Magnolia passed Daisy her wide-brimmed hat. “You’d best hurry if you’re going to make it to your wedding and get you and those new boots to the train station on time.”
***
Magnolia stood on Daisy’s left side and the elderly Mr. Brady, dressed in his Sunday suit and string tie, stood on her right. Mrs. Shelby offered her former front parlor and now-converted nursery for the ceremony.
The creaking of a rocking chair drew Daisy’s attention to the play area. An elderly volunteer crooned to an infant and watched two toddlers playing with a set of blocks on a braided rug. Twenty-one other orphans aged four to youth showed some curiosity, waiting for the pastor to begin the ceremony.
Her knees knocked while Reverend Jackson read from Genesis, reminding her once more of the marriage of Rebekah and Isaac.
“Abraham was old when our story begins and sent his servant on a special mission. He knew the importance of selecting a fellow believer as a marriage partner and sent his servant to find Isaac a proper wife.”
Will I be a proper wife? Do I even know what’s required to be one? Daisy pressed her hand to her stomach.
The pastor’s gray eyes met hers. “Looking at the story this morning, while we did not choose Daisy’s mate, we have committed the matter to prayer and sought help from others to introduce her to a fellow believer. Although it may seem unorthodox, perhaps Abraham’s servant felt similar emotions when he was assigned his mission.” Reverend Jackson opened his Bible. “God sent Rebekah, a young woman with a jar on her shoulder, to draw water for him and his camels. Scriptures tell us she was quite a gal. Beautiful, friendly, unselfish, a hard worker and a lot like you, Daisy. Perhaps Mrs. Shelby and I and your friends here at Counting Stars Children Home are a bit partial, but we think your groom, Mr. David Taylor, is a fortunate man.”
The younger children clapped, and Mrs. Shelby patted her cheek with her handkerchief.
The pastor thumped his Bible. “I believe it’s obvious God is the matchmaker in all of this.” He motioned with his hand. “Now Mr. Brady, if you’ll assume the role of the groom. We are gathered here on this day to join in marriage Daisy Leah Murphy and David Oliver Taylor. Who gives this woman to be married?”
“I do.” Mrs. Shelby sniffed.
“How come Mrs. Shelby’s crying, Preacher?” One of Daisy’s favorite students asked. Eight-year-old Samuel’s brow furrowed.
The matron extended her arm to the young boy and patted his shoulder. “I’m happy Miss Daisy is getting married but sad she’s moving away.“
Samuel inclined his head. “Since nobody’s shown up to marry her, I guess you can dry your tears, ma’am.”
Two of the older boys snickered. Magnolia’s shoulders shook and the pastor’s eyes twinkled.
“Don’t worry, Samuel.” Mrs. Shelby gave a watery smile. “I’ll answer any questions you may have after the ceremony, all right, dear?”
The young boy shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at his feet.
Reverend Jackson continued. “Do you Daisy Leah Murphy take David Oliver Taylor to be your wedded husband—To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and cherish ‘til death do you part?”
Samuel positioned his hand in front of his mouth and whispered. “Miss Murphy, don’t you think we ought to wait a few more minutes? Your beau is liable to get riled up when he gets here and finds you done married somebody else.”
Unexpected tears formed. Daisy stared at the freckled face of her would-be protector. “It’s alright, Samuel. Mr. Brady is standing in for my intended because he couldn’t be here in person. Even so, when I arrive in Texas next week, I’ll be married to Mr. Taylor.”
The young boy drew a circle with the toe of his boot. “No disrespect, ma’am, but are you sure you ought to be marrying a man who can’t even show up to his own wedding?”
Daisy closed her eyes. Her stomach rolled. Sho
uld I call off the whole thing?
Chapter 7
On balancing life…
“It’s important to keep your equations balanced. There is a time and place for everything. Keep yourself organized, make time for the things you love, and keep adjusting.”
- Miss Daisy Leah Murphy
“Steam’s up.” David pulled on the whistle and called for an all-clear before putting the mill in motion. The wheels groaned and the conveyor belt moved, causing the massive log to roll onto the carriage, positioning it for the first cut. David set the cutting pattern to maximize the lumber obtainable from the log. After the pass, he signaled to his friend, Mike Montgomery, the depth of cut for the next pass. He was thankful Mike and his brother, Moses, agreed to work with him today to help him fulfill a large order.
“Looks like you got a visitor.” Mike gestured with his thumb. “Me and Moe will finish up here if you want.”
The sound of the blade zinged through the wood. David waved his hand in thanks and hurried to meet his attorney who was standing outside.
“I just received a telegram regarding Miss Murphy. Is there somewhere we can talk?” Peter Marks extended his hand in greeting.
“Come on back to my office.” David took long steps across the bridge made from rough logs. The flow from the river brought the water to the top of the wheel, striking the paddles with a powerful force, hindering further conversation until they reached the other side of the mill.
David closed the door to his office and motioned toward two leather chairs. “It’s still noisy, but we can almost hear ourselves think in here.”
“Every time I visit, I’m amazed at the results you get from the power of water and steam.” Peter leaned his arm against the window and stared at the spring-fed pond filled with logs waiting to be processed. “Looks like business is booming. When did Mike and Moses start working with you?”