“Brenda, will you braid my hair?” asked a small girl with unruly locks.
“Of course,” Brenda assented, settling onto a bench with the child between her knees. Her fingers worked deftly, weaving the strands into a neat plait while the little ones gathered around. They knew her visits were special.
“Enough dawdling, children,” came a voice both firm and kind. Mrs. Agatha Jackson stood at the threshold of the dining area.
“Good to see you, Brenda,” she greeted, eyeing Brenda over the rim of her glasses. “I trust the little ones are treating you well?”
“Of course, Mrs. Jackson,” Brenda replied, standing to face the matron with a respectful nod. The woman before her had raised her and even named her when she came to the foundling home, offering solace and stability in the chaotic world of an orphanage. Mrs. Jackson managed it all, from skinned knees to temper tantrums.
“Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can manage this place. I’m an old woman, Brenda!”
“Ah, but what would we do without you, Mrs. Jackson? I need you as much now as I did when I arrived here.” Brenda mused aloud. A world without Mrs. Jackson’s guiding hand was one none of them wished to contemplate.
“Run amok, no doubt,” Mrs. Jackson said with a chuckle. “Now, go on and enjoy your day, Brenda. Heaven knows you’ve earned it.”
With a final wave to the children and a promise to return soon, Brenda stepped out into the bright new day, carrying with her the warmth of her orphanage family and the unwavering support of the woman who held it all together.
Brenda went into the kitchen to go out through the door there. She wanted to spend some time outside on her day off.
“Off to see the world, are you?” Amy asked as she caught sight of Brenda. Her hands were dusted with flour, evidence of her latest kitchen endeavor.
“Only if ‘the world’ is our little corner of it,” Brenda replied with a grin. Amy looked every bit the elder sister she was. Amy had been the first orphan who had been left as an infant with no name when Mrs. Jackson had become matron of the foundling home. Mrs. Jackson had named all the girls in alphabetical order, starting with Amy. The boys had been named from Z through A starting with Zachary.
“Actually, I’ve got news,” Amy said, suddenly serious. “Mrs. Jackson’s been cooking up a plan. We’re going to Texas.”
“Texas?” Brenda asked, her eyebrows arching in surprise. “What’s in Texas?”
“A matrimonial opportunity,” Amy began. “There’s a church outside Fort Worth. They’re hosting a big matchmaking party. Men with land and no wives. Women wanting husbands. They’re looking for girls willing to take the chance.”
“Matchmaking?” Brenda pondered the strange and thrilling concept. “So, you mean to say we could find husbands there? Real ones?”
“Absolutely,” Amy confirmed. “And not just any husbands. Ranchers, farmers—men with roots. Men who need strong women beside them. There’s a matchmaker in Beckham who came and talked to Mrs. Jackson about potentially sending girls from here as mail-order brides. Mrs. Jackson won’t let us go to marry someone sight unseen, but she’s willing to agree to the party, and she’s gathering interested girls who are over eighteen. Poor Jane wants to go but she won’t be eighteen until August. Mrs. Jackson said she can join later.”
Brenda’s heart quickened at the thought. She had always craved love, the kind that would root her to a place and give her a family of her own. “Oh, Amy,” she said, her eyes dancing with possibility. “I want to be a part of this. More than anything.”
“Thought you might,” Amy said, smiling knowingly. “You’ve got that fire in you, Brenda. A passion for life. Those Texans won’t know what hit them when you step off that train!”
“Then it’s settled!” Brenda declared, her voice thrumming with determination. “We’ll go to Texas, and we’ll find those husbands!”
“Let’s hope they know what they’re in for,” Amy laughed. “The Brown sisters are coming, and we aren’t the wilting sort.”
“Never have been, never will be,” Brenda agreed, her laughter mingling with Amy’s as they shared a moment of spirited camaraderie. Together, they would embark on an adventure beyond the safe confines of Massachusetts, and they’d face the unknown.
*****
BRENDA TIED THE LASTribbon on her well-worn carpetbag with a firm tug, her fingers steady despite the flutter in her chest. The noise of the bustling orphanage echoed around her.
When she’d tried to give two weeks notice to the Levitts, they had given her an ultimatum. Stay on or leave immediately. It was easier to just leave, though she’d managed to say goodbye to the children. Mrs. Levitt had been to the foundling home twice, hoping she’d go back to them, but Brenda yearned for a new beginning, and she was going to get it.
“Are you ready, Brenda?” Mrs. Jackson asked as she stood by the door.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, ma’am,” Brenda replied, her eyes shining with resolve.
“Texas won’t know what hit it,” Elizabeth Tandy chimed in from behind, her tone light and teasing.
A smile tugged at Brenda’s lips. She’d gotten to know Mrs. Tandy a bit in the two weeks since she’d left her job. She rather liked the woman, and she was pleased Mrs. Tandy was doing all she could for them. “Let’s hope they’re ready for a whirlwind,” Brenda said.
The other girls buzzed with nervous energy, chattering about the life that awaited them. But Brenda’s mind was focused on the prize. A husband and someday children. Who could ask for more in life?
