Blackwell—uh, that is, Ada Haskill. Ada, this is Ben Browder and his daughter, Megan.”
“Well, well. I’m pleased as punch for you, Farley,” Ben stammered. “It’s good to meet you, ma’am. Emma will be so happy to have a woman as a close neighbor.”
The woman answered with a nod, then turned toward the front door, which Emma had just flung open.
“Farley!” Emma shouted, then saw the woman. Her mouth opened and she blinked a couple of times before she was able to smile a welcome.
“Farley’s brought home a wife!” Ben called to Emma. “This is Ada. Ada, I’d like you to meet my wife, Emma.”
Emma ran awkwardly toward Ada, her arms spread wide in welcome. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she said. “I’m so happy for Farley!”
Ada accepted Emma’s hug stiffly and with surprise. “How do you do?” she said formally. Her speech sounded a little strange, almost foreign, to Megan.
“You must stay for dinner,” Emma said. “Please—come inside. I know you’re tired from your long ride. Did you come from St. Joseph? Have you seen Farley’s—your—home yet? Have you had a chance to unpack?”
Ben smiled. “Emma, let Ada sit down before you start in asking questions.” As the women walked toward the house, Ben began to unhitch Farley’s horse. “We’ll stable this fellow in the barn with some feed,” he said to Farley, “and you can tell me how you met your wife.”
Megan looked from the women to the men, not sure which way to go. She decided to follow Emma. This was a very interesting turn of events, and she was sure that Emma would be able to find out more of the details than Ben ever would.
By the time Megan arrived inside the house, Mrs. Haskill had taken off her coat and was removing her hat, placing it on a small table near the window. Jet beads on the long hatpins winked and gleamed in the sunlight. Megan touched a finger to the silver-blue plumes. “Your hat is beautiful!” she murmured.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Haskill said. Under her heavy brows she gave Megan a curious look.
“You’re dressed like the ladies in New York City,” Megan said. “Do you come from there?”
“No, I do not,” Mrs. Haskill said. “I am from England. I came to the United States and resided for a short while in Boston with distant cousins.”
Emma came forward with a cup of tea. “Here,” she said. “I’m sure you need this.” As Mrs. Haskill accepted the cup, Emma sat in a chair facing her. “Tell me how you came to meet Farley,” she said. “He’s never been to Boston.”
Mrs. Haskill took a long sip of the tea and gave a little shudder. “This is not
English
tea,” she said.
“Why, no,” Emma answered. “It’s made from dried herbs and leaves. My good friend Nelda made the mixture for me. It has a pleasing flavor, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Haskill didn’t answer. She took another sip of tea and stared into the cup as though she were thinking very hard. Finally she raised her head and looked directly at Emma. “My marriage with Mr. Haskill was arranged,” she said. “We corresponded with each other, and I agreed to travel to St. Joseph to meet him. Our meeting seemed pleasurable to both of us, so we were married two days ago.”
“Oh.” Emma looked embarrassed. “How nice for both of you.”
Mrs. Haskill drained the cup of tea and shrugged. “An impoverished woman, without close kin to care for her, has little choice but to marry. The situation in my cousins’ home had become disagreeable, so I decided to take this opportunity to live in the West.” Her nostrils seemed to become even more pinched as she added, “However, I must say that I expected the western part of this country to be quite different from the way I found it. This Kansas territory is hardly an attractive place in which to live.”
“You don’t see beauty in the prairie?” Megan was so astonished that she interrupted without thinking. “Of course, right now the grass is turning brown,