Mail Order Mix-Up. Christine Johnson

but we mustn’t judge a man on looks alone.”

      “Of course not.” Still, Amanda scrunched her face. “He didn’t seem at all pleased to see us.”

      Pearl had noticed that. Rather than answer Fiona’s direct question, he had hurried off on the pretense of needing to return to work at the mill. The glare he’d shot at Roland hadn’t escaped her notice, either. He did not think much of inviting the four ladies to sup with them. She was a little leery, too. Bringing all of them together at once meant just one thing.

      “I fear we will be put to the test tonight.”

      Amanda blanched. “Will he ask us questions? What should I say about the Chatsworths...and Hugh?”

      “Nothing. It’s none of their business.”

      “But it would be if we married.”

      “Even if you and Garrett are a perfect match, you won’t be getting married tonight. If you ask me, since he is the one who placed the advertisement, he’s the one who needs to do the talking. Once you’re convinced he would make a good husband, then you can reveal more details about yourself.”

      “But no man likes to hear that his intended was rejected by another. And then there’s the orphanage.”

      Pearl hugged her friend. “If he’s a godly man, those things won’t make one bit of difference. If they do, then he’s not the man for you.”

      “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who wants to marry.”

      An image of Roland flashed through Pearl’s mind, but that was pure foolishness. He’d made it clear that he would not marry, and she was prohibited from doing so. Restless, she walked to the window, which overlooked the smattering of houses on the sandy streets.

      “Do you believe all things will work for the best for those who love the Lord?” Nothing was turning out as planned. Pearl hoped that didn’t extend to her teaching position.

      “O-of course.”

      “It will work out. You must believe that.”

      “I hope so.” Yet Amanda’s shoulders drooped.

      Pearl must bolster her friend’s confidence. “You will wear your Sunday dress, and I will ask Mrs. Calloway if she has any curling tongs.”

      Amanda sucked in her breath. “If I only had a pretty necklace. Not just this old half of a locket.” She touched the tiny silver pendant hanging around her neck on a silver chain.

      “The locket is perfect, for it invites conversation. Garrett will want to know where the other half is, and then you can tell him about your brother.”

      Amanda’s eyes shone. “Maybe he will help me search for him.”

      “Perhaps he will.”

      Pearl smiled for her friend’s benefit, but Garrett hadn’t been the brother to travel to Chicago. Roland seemed more likely to take on such an adventure—provided it fit into his plans. That man was impossible to pin down.

      “You don’t think he will.” Amanda’s crestfallen expression told Pearl she’d let her thoughts run wild again.

      She mustered another smile. “Everything will work out for the best. Now, let’s get you ready for supper. We don’t want Roland showing up before you’re picture-perfect.”

      * * *

      “What did you do?” Garrett growled once they reached the mercantile’s stockroom. “Off to Chicago on another one of your larks and you bring back four women who seem to think I’m going to marry one of them.”

      Roland struggled to stifle a grin. If this whole situation didn’t threaten to start a war between the men and women, it would be hilarious. Unfortunately, he and his brother were outnumbered and, in spite of Garrett’s current irritation, out-enraged.

      “Well,” Garrett demanded. “Spit it out. What do you mean by bringing those ladies to Singapore?”

      Roland shrugged, as if it meant nothing. “First of all, Pearl Lawson was hired to teach school. You must have known that.”

      Garrett simmered down a bit. “I forgot her name.” He shuffled his feet against the rough plank flooring. “Or maybe I never heard it. It’s not like I’m on the committee that makes the decisions.”

      “You sit in on the meetings. We’ve had to bring Isaac and Sadie to Mrs. Calloway so you could attend.”

      “That doesn’t explain the other three women.”

      Roland slapped his hat onto the hat rack, slipped from his good suit jacket and donned an apron. Three days away meant he’d have a lot of work to accomplish in the store and not much time left in this work day.

      “I can’t explain the other three.” Roland couldn’t hide the chuckle. His brother would have his hands full with those ladies. Garrett should have thought of that before placing the advertisement. He looked his brother in the eye. “They seem to have some misguided idea that you are looking for a wife.”

      “I’m not, and you know it!” Garrett stormed, his face beet red.

      As a child, Roland had enjoyed teasing his older brother until Garrett’s temper blew like a steam whistle. Ma and Pa had frowned on Roland’s shenanigans, but he never got the strap. Now that Garrett was older and beefier, he looked like he could tear off a man’s head. Roland knew better. Garrett subscribed to that turn-the-other-cheek nonsense from the Bible. Roland did not let people trample on him. He wouldn’t mind seeing his brother squirm, though. Garrett needed a wife, whether he realized it or not.

      He pulled Pearl’s crumpled newspaper advertisement from his watch pocket and spread it on the counter before his brother. “Maybe you can tell me why you placed this, then.”

      Garrett stared at him a moment before reading the advertisement. He hung over it so long that he must have read it ten times. “Where did you get this?”

      “Pearl had it. Apparently it appeared in the New York newspaper, but then you know that.”

      “I do not.” Garrett backed away from the advertisement as if it had been dipped in poison. “I sure didn’t put it in the newspaper.” He waved toward the clipping with his index finger. “You’re the one who wrote it. Don’t go trying to put the blame on me. This is your problem. You fix it.”

      “That’s why I invited the ladies to supper tonight.”

      “That isn’t fixing anything—it’s stoking the fire!”

      A chuckle escaped, and Garrett nearly connected on a blow to Roland’s shoulder.

      “Whoa!” Roland stepped back, hands up in surrender. “I figured we could clear everything up once and for all. Then the ladies can head back to New York on the next boat out of here.”

      That quieted his brother for a few seconds before worry returned. “What if they won’t leave?”

      Roland rather hoped that would be the case for at least one of the women, though which one suited his brother best was still in question. Thus the supper.

      “I’m sure they’re reasonable. Once you tell them that you did not place the advertisement—”

      “You did it!”

      “I didn’t. But someone clearly did, someone who knew about my little joke. Did you tell anyone about it?”

      Garrett flushed. “I might have mentioned something at the mill.”

      That might have explained it except that the advertisement followed his joke word for word. No sawmill worker would be able to recount each word, even if Garrett had. “If neither one of us placed the advertisement, how it got there is a mystery. One I intend to get to the bottom of tonight.”

      Garrett sighed, resigned. “Should I