Mail Order Mix-Up. Christine Johnson

      “What are you going to do?” Pearl’s demand settled on him.

      He had no idea what she was talking about, but a little charm usually settled down whatever chafed a woman. “Proceed with my plans.”

      Her stormy expression told him he’d failed to hit the mark.

      “And your plans do not include cleaning up after the mess you caused.”

      The sparking eyes weren’t quite so wonderful when her fury was directed at him.

      He tried to placate her. “As I told you, I did not place that advertisement.”

      “Neither did I,” Garrett stated in no uncertain terms.

      The children looked down at their bowls of stew the moment Roland glanced in their direction. Odd. They were never this interested in eating. Garrett must not have given them a good midday meal. He began to address Pearl when out of the corner of his eye he saw Isaac whisper something to Sadie. No doubt about it. Something was going on between those two.

      “I don’t care which of you placed that advertisement.” Pearl pointed her spoon first at Garrett and then at Roland. “Three women have spent their savings and traveled a great distance in response to it. I expect you to honor your words.”

      Garrett’s jaw dropped.

      Roland stifled a snicker. Seeing his older brother squirm was worth the trouble.

      “I’m not marrying,” Garrett stated. “I don’t care what you threaten.”

      Sadie made an odd squeaking sound, and Isaac wiggled like his chair was on fire.

      Finally the boy stood. “May we be excused? Sadie don’t feel good.”

      “Doesn’t,” Pearl said, correcting Isaac.

      Garrett ignored her. “You may go. Take your bowls and spoons to the kitchen.”

      The children clattered out of the room with their dishes. No doubt they would head outdoors after dropping the bowls and spoons in the washtub. That left just four at the table. Amanda picked at her stew, head bowed. Pearl had a strange expression on her face, and Garrett scowled.

      “Why did you have to bring up that advertisement in front of the children?” Garrett was not happy. “Isaac keeps begging me for a new ma. Says Sadie needs a woman about the house, but we’re doing just fine. She can get all the womanly time she needs with Mrs. Calloway or Mrs. Elder.”

      Color highlighted Pearl’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken with the children present.”

      Garrett accepted the apology with a stiff nod.

      “They’ll get over it.” Roland tried to make light of things in order to bring back the sparkle in Pearl’s eye. “They’re young.”

      Pearl turned back to him. “When did they lose their mother?”

      Garrett frowned, but the question hit Roland like a bullet. He shivered. The chill of that day still hadn’t left his bones. The water. The ice. Eva. He shook his head.

      “Almost a year and a half ago,” Garrett stated, his gaze piercing through Roland.

      Both women drew in a breath.

      “So tragic.” Amanda sighed.

      Pearl started to ask something but stopped. Unusual. She seldom bridled what she said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

      Roland decided to put into words what she’d refused to say. “That’s why my brother needs a wife.”

      Garrett looked like he would spit nails at him. “I am not marrying. Sorry to disappoint you, ladies, but you’ve come here for no reason. Now that you know, you can catch a boat back home.”

      Amanda paled, but Pearl looked livid.

      Roland aimed to cut her off. “I will help with the fare to Chicago.”

      Pearl’s pressed lips indicated she wasn’t buying his generous offer. “Mr. Decker—”

      “Which one of us?” Roland asked.

      “Both.” She spat out the word. “I am not leaving and neither is Amanda. Fiona and Louise deserve better than a token effort to appease us. You brought them here. You will ensure all three ladies have enough money to get home.”

      Roland’s jaw dropped. “I can’t do that. It would cost...” He quickly calculated in his head. “A month’s wages. At least.”

      His brother was now grinning.

      Pearl was not done. “I do not want your money, and I doubt the other ladies would take it, either. We are perfectly capable of earning it. What they need is employment. Since you are responsible for this situation, I suggest you find jobs for them.”

      Roland could feel his temper rise. “There aren’t many jobs in Singapore, unless they plan to saw timber or work in one of the saloons.”

      Garrett coughed. Amanda gasped.

      Pearl glared. “I expect you to find them respectable jobs.”

      “Like I said, there aren’t many jobs here.”

      “Your general store must need another clerk.”

      Roland sputtered, “Impossible.”

      Garrett snickered.

      Pearl persisted. “If not the store, then at another respectable establishment.”

      “I might be able to find something for your friend.” The brunette was pretty enough to attract the interest of someone. Maybe the hotel needed housekeepers.

      “For all three ladies.” Pearl apparently considered that closed the conversation, for she rose. “Thank you for supper, gentlemen. I look forward to hearing from you, Roland. Garrett, I expect to see your children at the schoolhouse on the first day of class.”

      Roland stood, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say. Three jobs? Impossible.

      Pearl tugged on her gloves. “Come, Amanda. I believe our business here is done.”

      Garrett pushed back his chair. “Thank you for visiting, ladies.”

      Amanda shot him a shy smile, but Pearl merely nodded, apparently still peeved. After another curt nod, she swirled out of the house with Amanda in her wake.

      Roland sat down, exhausted.

      “That didn’t go well,” he murmured.

      Garrett laughed. “It’s good to see you take the brunt of feminine ire for a change.”

      “Don’t think you’re safe yet. Those women aren’t leaving Singapore anytime soon.” Therein lay the problem. Roland pulled the crumpled clipping from his watch pocket and smoothed it out on the table. “‘Widower with handsome inheritance seeks wife in booming town soon to rival Chicago. Well-furnished, comfortable house.’”

      “Your words.”

      “My words exactly, none of them true.”

      “I am a widower,” Garrett pointed out.

      “All right. One true statement. It’s easy to see why the women expected more. The advertisement specifies a house, not the top floor of a general store with sparse furnishings and cracks so wide that the snow drifts across the floor in the winter.”

      Garrett shrugged.

      “Then there’s the mention of a handsome inheritance.”

      “Ma’s sideboard.”

      “It is handsome, and you did inherit it.”

      “Eva loved it.”

      “I’m surprised you didn’t lock it away in the stockroom with everything else.” Garrett