Mail Order Bride

Chapter 1 - The News

"NO!" Janessa screamed. "I don't want a new mother!"

"Janessa, stop," her father, Patrick Miller, demanded.

"NO! You can't do it! I won't let you!" Janessa hollered again as angry tears blurred her eyes.

The year was 1912. Widower Patrick Miller, and his nine year old daughter Janessa, lived in a cozy farmhouse on rolling acres of land. Great Grandfather Miller had passed the land on to his sons throughout the years, and Patrick, being the only son of his father Leo, had inherited the land on his 16th birthday when his father passed away. After tending to the farm for several years, Patrick became a middle class man - not exceedingly wealthy, but made enough from his crops and animals to live comfortably with his young wife and daughter. 

However, his happiness was short lived. Rebecca, Patrick's wife, was stunningly beautiful - long, wavy, chestnut hair, large, honest green eyes, and a smile that lit up her entire face. She was tall, but slight, and walked with the air and grace of a princess. She was raised an only child, with loving and somewhat doting parents. Her father owned the bank in the town, and she had never wanted for anything. However, she was constantly helping the poor and needy. Patrick and she had met at a hospital charity event, and were married one year later. Rebecca's father had not been keen on the idea of his daughter marrying a middle class farmer, but had given his blessing once he met Patrick and learned that his values mirrored his own.

When Janessa was five years old, a raging outbreak of scarlet fever hit the entire county. Rebecca was constantly in and out of the cabin, tending to the sick and helping families with their children. At one point in time, there were seven children in the home from several different households. The children's poor, work-worn mothers and fathers were busy tending to their sick families, so Rebecca and Patrick would take the healthy youngsters and let them stay at their home until the immediate crisis was over. However, Rebecca was young and highly susceptible to catching the fever. She plunged on and on, until she was run ragged from all of the work and stress. She did not realize it, but catching the illness was inevitable for those working in such close proximity to the fever. After two weeks of fighting, Rebecca took her last breath in the arms of her loving husband.

Patrick and Janessa were devastated at the loss of the young wife and mother. As time went on, the pain became a dull ache, and memories became like a sweet dream instead of a painful thought. However, Janessa barely remembered her mother, and often felt guilty and angry with herself because of it. She was lonely, so lonely. Her father had never told her about the baby Rebecca had been carrying before she died, nor about the two others that had not survived the first trimester. He felt that would only upset Janessa more.

Patrick saw that Janessa was in desperate need of a mother. She was a sensitive little girl, small for her age, but had put up an enormous emotional wall that stemmed from the pain of loosing her mother. She went to school every day, bullied the other children, and caused chaos and trouble in the classroom. Her attire was typically cotton or denim overalls, a dark green shirt, and brown boots. She always had a calm, cool, and collected attitude. Rarely did a smile cross her face. She refused to have long hair, and, no matter how or where Patrick would hide them, Janessa always managed to find the scissors and chop off her light blond locks.

It was around this time that Patrick put an ad in the newspaper for a mail order bride. Despite his own loneliness, he knew that Janessa needed a woman in her life much more than he did. He was excited and nervous when a letter came from a Miss Emily Grinshaw, who was the daughter of Nevada rail worker Thomas J. Grinshaw. From her letters, Emily seemed down to earth, kind, and loving, which was exactly what Patrick wanted for Janessa.

After months of correspondence and one short telephone call, Emily agreed to come and live with them for six months. They both agreed that if things ended up turning sour, Emily was free to return home, with no animosity between them.

Janessa took this news hard. Her face was red and puffy, and she was angry. She was about to run outside when her father firmly took her by the arm and told her to sit down.

"Janessa, let me explain." Patrick sighed, and stared into her stormy face. She angrily thumped down into a wooden chair, crossing her arms across her chest. "Now listen," he said slowly. "If it doesn't work out, she can always go back to her home. She'll only be here for six months."

"I don't want her!" Janessa growled.

"Janessa, you have to see. It'll take time. She may not even like us."

"I hope she don't," Janessa replied grumpily. "When's she comin,' anyway?"

"Next month," Father replied. "Nessa?" Father said gently.

"What?" Janessa snapped.

"Ness, can you please try to be civil to her - for me, at least?" Janessa sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"Guess so," she mumbled. "But I still don't want her!" A flash of stubbornness crossed her round face. She furrowed her brows, angrily shoved a strand of hair out of her eyes, and continued to glare at her father.

"I know,  Janessa, but I think you need someone in your life to teach you how to be a good, strong woman, wife, and mother someday." Patrick looked at his daughter with kindness.

"How can she teach me to be a wife and mother when she's not even one?" Janessa retorted sourly, poking out her bottom lip.

Father sighed heavily. "I mean, Janessa, that she can teach you how to do things a girl your age should know, like cooking, baking, tending to the home, and making your own dresses."

Janessa frowned. "That sounds boring. I don't wanna do that."

"It's not, really," her father answered.

"Why do I have to learn all that stuff? I know how to drive the wagon, and do hay, and milk the cows, and clean the chicken coop, and well, everything you do, Pa."

"I know, Ness. I guess you'll just be able to do both things then, indoor and outdoor work. You'll be special like that. Okay?" He looked over at his freckle-faced nine-year old.

"Fine," Janessa consented wearily, and again dashed a stray piece of blond hair out of her face.

"All right," her father spoke again. "Now that we've gotten this issue straightened out, let's go outside and finish milking for the night." Janessa leaped from her straight-backed chair and bolted towards the door, trying to avoid any further conversation. But her father was quicker than she was, and swiftly grabbed the back of her overalls. "Janessa?" He spoke her name lovingly. "Remember that I love you, more than anything in the world. I only want to do what's best for you. Do you understand?" 

The child's face softened. She looked up at her father and bravely nodded her head. "I know, Pa," she replied quietly. Her father smiled and released her straps. Janessa started once again for the door, but hesitated before opening it. "Pa?" she asked, turning and looking up at her father. "Sorry for shoutin' at you." Patrick tousled the child's head and said,

"It's fine, girlie." Then the two of them headed outside.