Marriage of Necessity

~1~ Mail-Order Bride

The fear of the unknown is intense. Crippling...And yet, the feeling is so strong in my gut, telling me that I need to do this.

I had never planned on leaving my home. At the advanced age of 21, my prospects for marriage were dwindling. I'm nearing "old maid" status, and if I stayed much longer, all I would be good for is raising my nieces and nephews.

Everyone my age is already married and on their fourth baby...Not me. My tongue is too harsh and my opinions are too strong, that no male suitor has found me desirable.

*

The year is 1825, and I, Sophie Brennan, answered a "mail-order bride" advertisement.

My family tried to talk me out of it. "Don't do it, Sophie. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into."

Little did they know how much safer it felt to leave my home and travel across the country by train to live with a stranger, rather than stay here.

The fear of the unknown may be crippling, but the fear of staying stagnate, alone and unwanted, feels worse.

So here I sit on a train going southwest, staring at the intimidating mountains around me. Unfortunately, the further the train goes, the more and more wheat fields I see.

As I'm sitting, listening to a baby cry, I'm turning the worn paper around in my hands. I've folded and unfolded it so many times, it's about to rip in two.

I'm moving across country to marry a man I've never met before. A man with three children. A man who already had a wife at one point, and is now a widower.

The letter doesn't say much:

Wanted: Strong woman with good work ethic, willing to raise 3 children.

That's all it says. 12 words. I'm moving across country for 12 words. I got kicked in the head as a kid by Penny the Mule, and my Pa always wondered if it rattled a few screws loose. Maybe it has. No sane woman would do this.

Each second on this train brings me closer to the insanity I've inflicted on myself. The butterflies of anticipation are present, but are under the surface. The feeling I'm feeling right now is hope. Hope that my life will consist of more than just helping mama raise my younger siblings...Helping Pa muck the stables all the time.

Hope to have a life that is mine.

When the train pulls into the station in Loudoun Virginia, I can't decide if my queasy stomach is from the smells coming from the train, or my nerves.

I clutch my worn carpet bag, holding the handle just right so the contents don't spill out. I meant to try to mend it before I left, but I didn't get around to it. There was always so much work to be done on the farm.

I take a deep breath as I stand up and straighten out my skirts. Heaven forbid I meet my literal future husband for the first time with wrinkled skirts. My mama would skin me alive.

I exit the train, taking the conductor's hand to help me down the steps. When I get on solid ground, I take another deep breath. What if he doesn't show up? What if he never got my response, and someone else married him instead? I don't have anymore money, so I won't be able to return home.

That thought hadn't occurred to me until just now.

The pure terror I'm feeling is trying to bubble up in my throat, and wanting to turn into hysterics. I force myself to swallow the panic, and smile. My future husband could be here, watching me.

I dust off my skirts and clutch my carpetbag tighter as I scan the crowd. There's a man and a woman corralling a toddler, trying to keep him off the tracks. There's an elderly couple, the man gently touching the small of the woman's back, guiding her to the train.