Jaded Hearts ~ Book 1 of Frontier Hearts
Ruthanna Helms peered out
the train window at the bustling town of Prosper, District of Alberta, a letter
and a secret in her pocket. Cool May air blew in through the window and numbed
her cheeks.
Mama
sat across from her, locks pulled back in a regal coif. The light caught amber
strands in her chestnut hair. The elegant lines of her blue linen and lace
dress were out of place in a world of jagged mountain peaks and brutal winters.
“This place doesn’t seem poor. Did you see how
many head of cattle they’re driving to those pens and what those ladies are
wearing? I think one of them had an ostrich feather in her hat. It looks
prosperous, don’t you think, Ruthie?” Mama asked.
“It does.” Not as prosperous as their
three-storey house in Mole Hill, Vancouver, with balconies on three floors and
a stained-glass conservatory, but prosperous.
Ever
youthful in spirit, her sister Dora sat next to Mama and hummed a joyful tune.
She had a voice that enthralled the gruffest of dockworkers and the haughtiest
of ladies. She belonged centre-stage in a London theatre. “Do you think I’ll be
able to give singing lessons?”
“I
think so,” Mama said.
Ruthanna
smoothed the letter against her thigh. A message from Mr. Bertram Milligan, a
man the mail order bride agency assured her was a good match for her. The
agency described Bertram as an even-tempered, family-focused man with a quiet
sense of humour.
Ink
was quick to dry on the letters she sent him, but her heart was slow to
thaw, and her mind slow to trust.
The
train whistle blew, a clarion call to a better future.
Her
nerves, taut and tired, urged her feet to board the next train back.
Wheels ground against the tracks. The whistle
blew for a second time, and the train lurched to a stop. Loud male voices called
out women’s names above the hissing steam.
Dozens
of men in clean work clothes and suits lined the train platform. Some men were
recently shaven, others had trimmed beards, and a few had waxed moustaches.
Most held photos of women above their heads, a mixture of curiosity and hope on
their faces. Their gazes swept from window to window. All called out the names
of women, likely their brides-to-be.
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