A Fall From Grace. Mail Order Bride Western Page 24

  He browser with interest through a feature article about this film called “The great train robbery”. He laughed at the idea of romance and adventure in the Wild West. It had perhaps been what had misled him the most when he had left the drudgery of New York. He had imagined a land brimming with fire and spirit but found that wherever you went in this great country, money was still money, power were still power and the people would always be envious and wary of those who had it.

  He then read an article with great interest about these two brothers, Orville and Wilbur who said that they had build a machine that would be able to use and engine to fly in the air in a controlled manner. Ron had followed the exploits of Ford with great interest and wondered if these Wright brothers also had a similar career graph ahead. It didn’t matter, he was out of the game now. The only machinery that should really matter to him now was the one that God had designed that moved cows and horses.

  As he flipped the pages though, he saw the image that reminded him of where his interests truly lay. It was a woman in her early twenties, leaning against a rail in an open yard. She was wearing a short dress which showed her legs almost all the way up to her knees, he closely looked at the line of her long graceful neck and all the skin around it that was clearly visible through the broad necked top. It was a photograph of the woman of his dreams and the advertisement it was in was exactly on the topic that was foremost in his mind.

  It was an ad for mail order brides. He was well aware of the concept but from his earlier encounters with it the girls were almost always hideous creatures from faraway lands who barely spoke the language. Now without exception though, he thought of Shaun, one of his managers in New York and his wife Shiela, a mail order bride Shaun had been extremely pleased with. The more he thought about it, the more the idea grew on him and he wondered why the thought had never occurred to him before.

  Later that night, the idea still stayed on his mind though the carnal implications of it were decidedly on the foreground. Most of the next day was spent writing a letter to the address specified in the magazine. It would be a long process without any of the instant gratification of meeting a woman in a ball and falling in love with her but it did come with its advantages. What they were doing was doing away with the effects the capitalistic world had on love and relationships with one swift ugly transaction. Hopefully what would left would be devoid of tricks and deception. Either way, he would be the one making the play and that was just how he liked to live his life.

  Writing and mailing that letter was a simple act and yet he was amazed with how much it overshadowed his life in the next few days. He would ponder every word he’d written a thousand times and then berate himself. It wasn’t a love letter, he often reminded himself in those moments. He was a client, listing his specifications for what he wanted delivered to him. He would approach this the same way he would approach any other transaction.

  It was one thing to have that piece of knowledge, quite another to get his mind to accept it. There was no detaching himself from the nervousness and excitement that came with every romantic beginning. Much to his surprise, the feeling just grew as the days passed. He found himself imagining the perfect woman in every situation. When he sat alone in the porch he imagined someone he could talk to after a hard day’s work, when he hungered he would imagine someone who found happiness in making him his favorite things. He last thought before bed and his first thought waking up would often be of her body, of her warmth and of how much he wanted her.

  As almost a month passed without a reply he started to wonder if the postal service had played a great big joke on him. While everyone around him tended to criticize them for not being dependable, he had always been a strong supporter and almost as if they knew that, they had never let him down yet. He waited every day though for the rider to arrive carrying the mail. There were four occasions that month when such a rider had come to the ranch but none of them carried the news or the letter he wanted.

  Slowly, he began to give up on the idea. He tried to convince himself of why it was stupid. Why it was a good thing that nothing really came of it. He started to believe that if the letter had reached he would just have been treated like any other old, ugly, desperate customer and that he would rather be alone than be with one of the girls that they would have sent him.

  That was the state of mind he found himself in when news came about that the Jackmans were throwing their annual party. They were one of the few families that rivaled Ron’s estate in the neighborhood and they were a bickering, annoying bunch but they did know how to throw a good party. Ron thought of how they had called a man last time who had hypnotized people by making them stare at a watch hung on the end of a string. It had genuinely been a party he had enjoyed and while the core family that stayed at the Jackman estate was best avoided, he could not deny that they had some rather fetching girls in their distant relatives.

  He felt his spirit life at the news of the invitation and in a moment of quite introspection he also caught sight of how empty his life must be that one party invitation could make him feel so much better. Now that he had decided to go though, there was no going about it from a half hearted perspective. He went to town to find the finest piece of cloth and then to the tailor who promised that despite being burdened with work he would give Mr Kransons suit ‘special attention’. Ron trusted the man and his skills and with that commitment he also felt assured that when the time came, he would be dressed for the occasion.

  Parties like this though required that he adorn himself with more than just the finest clothes. Three days before the party he called the Kilton brothers. They were roughnecks who had separated themselves from the rest of their kind by having a code of honor. He had used them to guard his more valuable consignments and to travel with him for meetings that could turn ugly. They would have a different role to serve at the party. Ron Kranson was not one to back down out of verbal duels, he did however see that it would be stupid to risk his life on whether he could draw a gun and shoot faster than a man who had practiced it all his life. He had found a way to be better at their game without playing it.

  With this new distraction on his mind, Ron found it much easier to focus on the activities of the ranch. The morning of the party though, just after the final fitting of his new suit Ron saw a small patch of dust rise down the road. It was a rider, and has he grew closer Ron saw that he was indeed carrying a bag of mail. Ten minutes later Ron found himself back in his living room holding a singular piece of mail. It was a magazine of some sort. He kept it down on the table and stared at it. Then, in one swift motion he picked it up and tope apart the packaging. It was a catalog of some sort accompanied by a letter.

  “Dear Mr Kranson,

  We thank you for your letter and would want you to know we only cater to clients with the most discerning taste. We have also sent you a catalogue as requested. Each individual in the catalogue has been personally interviewed by the company president and we assure you of higher standards than any of our competitors. When you have made a selection, please send us a telegram along with a money order for the advance and your bride shall reach within a week accompanied by a man from our company who shall handle the paperwork. We look forward to your reply and wish you a joyous married life.

  Yours Faithfully

  Richard Laver”

  He got up to make himself a drink. It was early in the day but this felt like an occasion of sorts. There was a chance this would be the moment he would see his future wife. He still didn’t like the fact that he was romanticizing the transaction but he couldn’t help himself. As he set the drink beside the catalogue and picked up the thin booklet he let out a long sigh and opened the first page.

  He was expecting there to be pictures right from the start but was pleased to find that the catalogue started with an extremely detailed FAQ section. As he scanned through it, he was impressed by how it tackled several tricky issues and he did start to feel a sense of honesty in the running of the com
pany. One of the questions was ‘How would you feel if it was your daughter or sister that was advertising here’. He was very impressed that the question was in there in the first place. The answer was simple. “I would be totally fine with it if it was what she had chosen. Marriage is a rocky prospect and I would want her to have the best shot at success. If her information is honest than it would help her connect to someone who is appreciative of her qualities, the fact that they would be paying good money in the marriage also points to them being stable.”

  There were other similarly controversial questions, each answered with deft and what seemed like an honest pen. Questions like age, nationality, what to expect were clearly answered. The best salient feature was that this company openly seemed to say that people who were just looking for sex slaves should stay away. That sentiment came across rather clearly in multiple answers.

  By the time Ron flipped the pages and got to the first picture, he was sold on the concept. Now, all that was needed was to find a woman that was close enough to the one he had imagined. Each turn of the page gave him two new choices but some pages he skipped over rather quickly. He was clear that he did want a woman of considerable beauty. That part was not negotiable, though its price could be.

  It was only once the photograph passed the initial test that Ron would scroll down to the Bio. Girls had written about the kind of person they were; what their interests were and Ron also was intrigued by how varied they were. In his hands he held the possibilities of five years of attending those silly parties. Yet, the first few pages were flipped through with as much reward as the last year of those parties. They were some intriguing possibilities, some who surely passed his initial test but came with other red flags. He did not want a gold digger who would make him wonder if each meal was poisoned. If he had trusted his ability to see through people less he would not have been doing this in the first place but Ron saw more in the photographs and the Bio than most people would. He was pretty sure he saw more than the people at the company would have wagered for.

  As he reached the end of the catalogue though, Ron started to feel a little disillusioned. He saw the inevitable moment where the catalogue would end and he would be left having to pick an option out of a handful of less than perfect choices. He spent a lot more time at the back end of the catalogue but it was the last page of the options that took his breath away.

  It was a redhead, standing next to a railing on a ranch. She wore denim shorts and a faded shirt and seemed to be looking away, uninterested. It could have been an advertisement for anything from cigarettes to a race track. It came with an obvious ‘why would this woman be in this catalogue’ question but then, Ron had been hoping to ask that question. He studied the bio with great interest and it was like every line in there had been written with him in mind.

  In her first lines the girl had made it clear that she did not want to live in a big city and that ideally she would want to live on a ranch. She spoke about her reasons for doing this in passing and said she did not like the place love had in the world today and felt that in a weird way this gave her the best chance of finding it. However, what stood out for Ron most of all was how clear she made it that if the person was looking for a slave of any sort, they would be very disappointed and that only people who were willing to make an honest attempt at finding their soul mate should show an interest in her.

  Despite the disclaimer, the price tag attached to heather made it very clear the company considered her the best they had to offer as well. As much as anything else, it was that element that made his choice obvious. Half an hour later, his mind verified his decision and he sent out three riders. The first one was to the telegram office. The second and third were related to the party he was no longer attending. There was no need anymore. The suit would get its day in the sun the day he was to meet his future wife.

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  When the day finally came about, Ron’s nerves were getting the better of him. He didn’t like playing the waiting game and his head had been filled with thoughts of how he would destroy the company using all the strings he had if it turned out that it was just a sham operation. He had received a telegram back specifying that they would be there by Saturday. It also said that the advance just covered travel costs and the final decision would be made on that day by both parties. Ron had assumed that he was still free to change his mind at the last moment but he had not thought the girl would still be able to back out at that point. As he went over the telegram though, it became clear that’s what it implied. Not that he minded it though.

  A rider came to him at about three in the afternoon from the town saying that his guests had arrived and that they had checked into the hotel rooms he had booked for them in the solitary hotel in their town. Ron spent the next hour shouting orders at his help to make sure the ranch was running at it’s peak impressiveness. If only he could have banished the heat and the dust for just that day he would have been totally satisfied but as the clock hit 5 PM Ron surveyed his surroundings and was pleased at the surety that they would pass even the most discerning judgment.

  Two riders appeared in the distance five minutes past their scheduled time. As Ron saw the silhouette of the woman in the distance he felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time since he had been a teenager. Those butterflies grew stronger as he walked out to receive his guests. As was protocol for important guests, the entire staff of the ranch assembled behind him. They had not been given any details of the people who were coming, just that they were of great value.

  Any further thoughts of what they would think disappeared from his mind as soon as he saw her clearly. It was like thoughts of all sorts went away and his mind decided it could never be able to think again about anything other than the beauty of this woman. The photograph in the catalogue had been attractive to say the least but it did absolutely no justice to the woman who took his hand and smiled at him as she got off the horse.

  Her long red hair caught the sun and made a picture almost as dazzling as her smile. She was dressed down, in a checked shirt and light jeans. She was dressed like a southern girl who belonged on the ranch and as she looked around to survey her surroundings, it was the look of someone who was home. Ron knew at that moment that he could never let her go. If the company man who was with her was going to ask for his ranch, his bank balance or his soul, he would probably get it. His mind did not even remind him to not let his feelings show.

  The next hour passed like a dream without a single negative thought. Scott, the company representative turned out to be as much of a gift as his companion. Any doubts that Ron might have had were soon addressed. It was clear from early on that both parties had passed their evaluation and if Ron agreed the wedding would be held two days from now and the two of them would continue staying in the hotel till then. Ron was told that if wanted to call the people around without wanting them to know that he was marrying a mail order bride he could say that a distant relative had set them up and that the company would handle the other details and make sure the story had no cracks. Ron didn’t care. He just wanted the shortest route that led to him being able to call that woman his own.

  Two days later, it was done. Heather Graham became Heather Kranson. There were just four guests at the wedding and it was exactly how Ron would have wanted it. In the meantime, he had come to know everything there was to know about Heather and each little piece of information made the bong grow stronger. Like him, she had lost both her parents early. They had once had a ranch as big as his but it had all fallen away. She had three younger siblings who she wanted to send to Europe so they could be with her extended family and that is what she was using the money for. Why she had chosen this particular path was that though she knew she would have to marry for money she did not want to have to carry out the charade. This was the most honest she could have been in her situation. He saw that and admired it.

  The ceremony itself was rather beautiful in its simplicity. Heathe
r wore a dress that had been in Ron’s family for generations but he was sure it had never been carried with as much grace. The vows were said without hesitancy and the short kiss held all the promises in the universe. As they left the Church Scott held out his hand and wished the couple and bid them farewell. He said he would come down sometime next month to pay his regards and though Ron knew he was implying that he would be checking up on them, he realized it was what he would prefer. He resisted the urge to give the man a hug and rant about how impressed he had been with the company but a hand shake and a tipping of the hat would show just as much.

  As Scott rode of, the magnitude of what had just happened started to sink in. As the party of four got on to their horses Ron turned to Heather and extended his arm to touch her lightly, “You ok?” he asked. It was a big moment for her and it had probably not gone down as the twelve year old version of her had imagined. He saw that it did affect her on some level but saw that she was indeed fighting and winning that battle against that sorrow. She just stared at him for a minute and when she smiled and nodded after that, Ron felt his heart melt. The ride back was made mostly in silence. Nathan and Mr. Golba wanted to celebrate but respected the silence of their employers.

  As the ranch appeared in the distance Ron felt a stirring deep inside him. Soon, he would be alone with his wife. Since this was a special occasion a special dinner had been prepared that Ron had supervised before they had left but he would want her to take over all those duties soon. His only fear was that her mind would be telling her that she had won the jackpot and that she would never have to lift a finger in her life. He reminded himself though that his fears would be valid had he married a socialite or someone who had lived a life of frivolity. He thought back to her in the checked shirt and jeans, looked over to the ease with which she rode the horse. This was not a girl who held a lifetime ambition of inactivity.