Mail Order Bride of Chance and Love [EBOOK]

Chapter 1 <br>
The Great Plains passed by, beyond the train’s window. He stared through the glass, mesmerized by the long grass waving under the almost constant wind. Occasionally, herds of grazing buffalo, or an antelope sentinel standing atop a small knoll, watching for any threats to the herd, caught his attention.<br>

Ronald Hawthorne rubbed his face wearily, blinking, wishing he could sleep. However, the train’s constant rocking motion wasn’t exactly conducive to sleep. At most, he could doze off. Leaning his cheek on his fist, his elbow lodged against the train’s metal skin, he closed his eyes.<br>

“Where ye headed?”<br>

Ronald lifted his face towards the voice. An elderly gentleman had taken the empty seat across the aisle from him and now gazed at him with bright eyes and a gap-toothed grin. “Mayhew, Kansas,” Ronald replied, uncertain if he wanted to have a conversation at that moment.<br>

“I hearda dat town.” The old man nodded wisely, still beaming. “Nice place. Ye got folks there?”<br>

“I have a ranch just outside the town,” Ronald told him. “I went to Iowa to visit my brother. He is not well. He’s very ill, in fact, and I don’t expect him to live much longer, I’m afraid.”<br>

“Yup. Good te visit folks afore they pass. Yup. I’m headed fer Denver meself.”<br>

“You have family in Denver?” Ronald asked, wishing this old fellow could find someone else to chat with.<br>

“Yup. Gonna live wi’ my daughter an’ her kin. Gots three lil' kids. Noisy critters, them three. But I’m their granddad.”<br>

“I have a son,” Ronald said, smiling a little. “He’s eight now. Getting tall for his age.”<br>

“Kids do dat. Yer wife wi’ him while yer gone?”<br>

A pang of loneliness and grief struck his heart, and Ronald’s smile faded. “No, my younger sister is. My wife died about eight months ago.”<br>

“Sorry te hear dat. I lost ma wife a few years back. She were a hard woman, she were. Allus complainin’, never happy.”<br>

“That’s too bad,” Ronald answered, thinking of Helen. “My wife was kind, generous to a fault, sweet-natured. She loved to laugh.”<br>

“How’d she pass?”<br>

Ronald wished he hadn’t asked that question, but he supposed it was inevitable. People and their curious natures always seemed to want the lurid details. Just thinking about Helen brought back the pain of losing her, the tearing sense of loss, as though a part of him had been ripped from his chest. A great emptiness consumed him now, a terrible void he suspected could never be filled again.<br>

Thank God I have David. For without him, I’d have no reason to live.<br>

“Son?”<br>

He had almost forgotten the old man and his question. Without looking at him, Ronald replied, “She died of influenza. The town doctor couldn’t do anything for her.”<br>

As though sensing he had touched something he shouldn’t have, the old man said, genuinely apologetic, “I’m right sorry te hear dat, son. It seems that the good folks die afore they should, an’ the bad uns linger like a skunk’s stink.”<br>

His inelegant analogy shocked a short laugh from Ronald. “Yeah, I guess that’s true enough.”<br>

“I ain’t gonna say be grateful fer th’ time you had wi’ her, son,” the old man said, nodding his gray head as though about to drop great pearls of wisdom. “Dat be right near impossible. But I will say this. Don’t shut yer heart up too tight now. Ye never know what might want in. Ye hear?”<br>

Ronald glanced absently out the window at the passing prairie, and the occasional clump of scrawny trees that seemed to sprout like weeds in a garden. A careless bird flew too close to his window, and the gusts of wind from the train’s passing tossed its beak over tail feathers. I don’t know if I can do that. I can’t risk falling in love, only to lose them again.<br>

But he replied, “I’ll try.”<br>

“Dat’s te best anybody kin ask o’ ye,” the fellow said. “There be plenty o’ good wimmenfolks out there, son, an’ ye be too young te live te rest o’ yer life by yerself.”<br>

“I have my son.”<br>

“Yup. Ye do. Growin’ youngsters need a ma. Keeps ‘em on te straight and narrow.”<br>

Feeling as though the old man was pushing him to marry the first woman he tripped over, he started to grow annoyed. I’d rather you just minded your own business. And kept your opinion to yourself. David will grow up just fine, even without a mother. He has me.<br>

Seeking a change of topic, he asked, keeping his voice slightly curious to mask his irritation, “How many children do you have?”<br>

“Jest te one,” the fellow replied. “There was a boy once. He died.”<br>

Feeling ashamed of his annoyance, for Ronald couldn’t imagine losing David, he said, “I’m so sorry,” and meant it. My boy is all that’s keeping me on this earth. I live only to see him grow up and become a man. Nothing else matters.<br>

“It were a long time ago.”<br>

Ronald eyed the old man surreptitiously. A single tear tracked down his lined and weathered face, and his lips trembled as though he was fighting against more leaking from his eyes. Averting his gaze to give him some semblance of privacy, Ronald wondered at the sheer depths of grief. Some wounds never heal, no matter how old you get. Will I still be mourning Helen as deeply when I get to his age?<br>

Thinking of that yawning void within him, Ronald didn’t think he could survive another fifty years enduring its presence. “I barely got through the last eight months.”<br>

“What’s dat, son?”<br>

Ronald tried to smile, observing that the old man’s moment of vulnerability had passed, and he once again wore his previous expression of cheerful curiosity. “Sorry. Just talking to myself.”<br>

“Dat’s a sign o’ senility.” He cackled.<br>

“Maybe.” Ronald smiled slightly. “It’s a habit of mine. Helps keep my thoughts in order.”<br>

“Then I ‘spect dat might be a good thing.”<br>

Leaning his head back against the seat, Ronald closed his eyes. I’ll be home by tomorrow. I’ll be able to see David and Maggie sleep in my own bed. His thoughts ranged to his brother, Thomas, whom he might never see again. Being only a few years older than Ronald, like Helen, Tom was too young to die. But his illness had no cure. <br>

Loud voices interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to glance around the seat. They came from the car behind him, and it certainly sounded like an argument. The old gent also turned to look, his half-smile gone and a quizzical expression in its place. <br>

“Somebody don’t like somebody else.” He cackled again.<br>

“I reckon not.”<br>

Closing his eyes again, Ronald hoped both the noise and the old man would fall silent so he might manage to doze off. His body craved sleep desperately, and even if he couldn’t slumber soundly, the light naps he did achieve helped. The argument continued, even if the gent did not. Tuning it out as best he could, Ronald once again thought about Tom.<br>

His body wasted from the sickness that ate him alive, Tom still maintained a hopeful outlook. “I’ll beat it,” he had told Ronald. “Just see if I don’t.”<br>

I hope you do. I already lost Helen, I don’t want to lose you, as well. But despite his positive attitude, Ronald knew Tom was fighting a battle he would eventually lose. That was why Ronald had taken valuable time away from the ranch and David to travel the hundreds of miles to Iowa to see him. <br>

Like the old man said, it was good to see Tom before he died, before it was too late.<br>