Mail Order Mix-Up. Christine Johnson

might while away the hours pointing out the constellations. Instead she must find some way to turn wormy crab apples into apple pie.

      Pearl made her decision in an instant. “We continue on to Singapore.” She hoped her certainty would bolster her friend’s rapidly sinking hopes. “Something good will come of this. I’m certain of it.”

      “How can you be so sure? Not only did Mr. Decker not expect us, but he doesn’t want to marry. What happened? Was the advertisement a cruel joke?”

      Pearl could not tell her that she’d begun to think it was. Possible explanations tumbled through her head. The most far-fetched she discarded at once, but one lodged and refused to let go. Mr. Decker had claimed that marriage would take away from running a new business. What if the promise of marriage was simply a ploy to bring inexpensive labor to Singapore? What if he was the worst sort of scoundrel, someone who would take advantage of a woman when she was at her most vulnerable?

      No, she couldn’t let herself think that. She certainly couldn’t allow Amanda’s thoughts to drift in that direction.

      “We will get by,” she said firmly. “My new position includes room and board. We will share the room and make do on my earnings.”

      “But you wanted to save enough to go to California.”

      Pearl shoved aside that dream. Friends were more important. She had been abandoned by her parents. She would not abandon her friend.

      She squeezed Amanda’s hand. “That can wait until we sort this all out.”

      “I will find a job,” Amanda declared. “I can be a ladies’ maid.”

      Pearl doubted there were many frontier ladies needing that sort of maid, but she didn’t point it out. “You do keep a tidy house and sew beautifully.”

      “I love to sew, but do you think anyone will need a seamstress?”

      “We won’t speculate on what people do or don’t need. We’ll trust that things will turn out for the best.”

      “All things will work together for good for those who love the Lord,” Amanda said, paraphrasing scripture. “We must rely on that.”

      “Yes, we must.” Pearl drew in a deep breath. Perhaps her friend was stronger than she appeared. “I’m tired and tomorrow will be busy. Shall we go below to find a spot to sleep?” Third class granted them passage but not sleeping quarters or a meal.

      “Let’s not. It’s so noisy with everyone squeezed in there. I’d rather stand here and look at the stars.”

      Pearl had to agree. “We will search for some chairs, then, or a spot on the upper deck, and lift our gaze to the skies. You’ll see. In the morning, everything will seem better.”

      Especially after she cornered Mr. Decker.

      * * *

      Morning dawned with scarcely a breeze. The cloudless sky stretched overhead like a blank canvas. This day would usher in a new life for Pearl as a schoolteacher. The prospect excited her even while she kept watch for the man who had crushed her dear friend’s hopes.

      Pearl stood at the railing with Amanda, their carpetbags at their feet, as the ship glided toward the mouth of a river guarded by a small lighthouse. Shimmering dunes rose on either side, dotted by clumps of green. Grass or shrubs, she guessed. Any trees were hidden from view behind the sand hills. In both directions the shoreline stretched unbroken except for a small, smoke-belching enterprise a distance to the north. If not for the lighthouse, she would think they were headed into the wilderness.

      “How pretty.” Amanda sighed. “I wonder where the town is.”

      Pearl wondered that, too. The marriage advertisement had promised a booming town. The employment posting had proclaimed a “bright future in the next Chicago.” She saw no sign of habitation, least of all a thriving city.

      “It must be upriver.” At least Pearl hoped it was. She could manage the wilderness, but Amanda deserved a more genteel life. Despite Amanda’s labors in the Chatsworth household, she was ill-equipped for backbreaking drudgery. The Chatsworths kept several servants, including a housekeeper and cook. Rather than being taken in as a daughter, Amanda had worked, but she had never taken on the care of an entire family. Pearl gripped the rail, for the first time doubting her decision to convince Amanda to join her.

      Her friend’s fragile hope had been dashed last night by yet another unfeeling man. First she’d suffered Hugh’s unconscionable jilting. Now Garrett Decker had dismissed her. Just thinking of the man made Pearl’s blood boil.

      Her first objective of the day had been thwarted when Mr. Decker, despite claiming last night that he must rise early, did not appear on deck. Apparently that early morning business was conducted in the sanctuary of the gentlemen’s lounge, where none of the women he’d injured could reach him.

      Not interested in marrying? He had some nerve sending out an advertisement and then withdrawing it once he’d met the prospective brides. Fiona might be a little too forward and Louise Smythe a little too reticent, but Amanda shone like the rising sun. He had seemed to enjoy her companionship last night. Then why snuff out her hopes so cruelly?

      She tapped her fingers on the railing. If he could not explain himself, she had a mind to give him a thorough tongue-lashing. Providing she could find him. The wily fox had ducked into his den. He might be able to hide aboard ship, but eventually he must leave. She would nab him ashore.

      The ship entered the river, and Pearl spotted the first sign of life. A thin trail of smoke rose from a building on the left-hand shore. Farther upriver, another dark column lifted against the rising sun. The ship rounded a corner, and she heard the growl of engines and a piercing whine that made Amanda clap her hands over her ears.

      “What is that?” Amanda asked.

      Pearl shook her head. The tooth-shaking howl wasn’t familiar. As they rounded the next bend, the source became obvious. Rafts of logs floated near shore. Sawdust coated the ground. Big, open wood-frame buildings roared with the hum of engines and the scream of huge saws.

      Amanda’s eyes rounded, and her hands stayed pressed to her ears.

      The ship’s whistle blew, and the vessel glided toward the dock that lined the shore. Beyond the dock stood a scattering of weathered wood buildings tucked between sand dunes. Most were single-story cabins or houses. A few had two stories. One building was particularly large. None bore the markings of a schoolhouse. Boardwalks and streets crisscrossed between buildings, but she saw no carriages or buggies. A couple of wagons waited near the waterfront. Though workers crowded the sawmills and docks, not a single soul walked through town.

      Pearl’s heart sank.

      “Is this Singapore?” Amanda asked.

      “Yes, ma’am,” replied a sweat-stained laborer standing nearby. “Stockton’s town.”

      “Stockton?” Pearl asked, her thoughts immediately drifting toward another man. “I thought perhaps Mr. Decker was in charge.”

      The man guffawed and slapped his thigh. “That’s a funny one, miss. No sirree, Stockton owns the mills and the store and pert near everythin’ else in town. Decker works for him. Runs the store.”

      Oh, dear. In spite of Mr. Decker’s fine clothes and silver tongue, he was not important at all. Moreover, Singapore was no bustling metropolis. “Then it’s a company town.”

      The man grinned, revealing a few missing teeth. “Wildest town on the coast.”

      Amanda paled. Pearl gripped her arm, afraid her friend would faint. Surely the man was mistaken.

      “Do you live here, sir?”

      “Board in one of the cabins.” The man gestured in the general direction of town. “Been workin’ here ’most two years now. This was the first chance ta head back home ta see the folks. Heard the mill’s running full steam again.” He rubbed his