Spring Thaw

By Tammy Fish

When an unforeseen accident tramples her dreams, Selena trudges through a desert of loneliness caring for an invalid husband. Finding herself a widow at twenty-eight, she grasps at the chance to experience a new life. Answering an advertisement for a marriage of convenience, she agrees to the platonic arrangement in order to care for the man’s young son. Leaving her home in Illinois, she travels by train to Oregon to discover a very different world from the one she left behind. Mesmerized by the beauty of this new land, she finds faith and fulfillment, but she never expects to find love.

Dirk lost his wife long before his son’s birth. Bitterness and pain solidified his emotions like the snowpack on Mt. Hood. He needs a mother for his son, but nothing more, so he places his request: No pictures necessary, references only. Selena agrees to the arrangement, but her heart interferes. Will Selena’s patient endurance be enough to melt her husband’s frozen heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tammy Fish
• Release date: Dec 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310736926

Tammy Fish

Marriages of convenience have fascinated me ever since I received Love Comes Softly as a gift in 1978. When I married my husband years later and found out that his grandmother traveled from Italy in 1923 to wed a man she never met, I was intrigued. What prompts a woman to leave everything, travel half-way around the world, and marry a stranger? The concept planted seeds of curiosity, but it took years for those ideas to germinate. Over the progression of time, I moved from my New England roots to Oregon, my husband’s birthplace. Like Selena, I traveled along the mesmerizing Columbia River as we drove the final miles to our new home. I identified with the distinct wonders of this new land, and I fell in love with its beauty. Spring Thaw is not Grandma Serafin’s story any more than it is mine, but snippets of our lives permeate the pages.Hours of fastidious research into Portland’s history, even to the selected idioms used throughout the storyline, add to the authenticity of my novel. I do ask that you accept my apology for digressing from that strict code to use the NIV version for my scripture references within the text. I felt this translation best captured the intent of my thoughts.I hope after reading this novel you too will fall in love with the beauty of God's majesty and love.

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Spring Thaw

Tammy Fish

Copyright 2015 Tammy Fish

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Smashword Edition, License Notes

This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be resold or given away to others without express permission by the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage others to download a copy from their favorite authorized dealer. Thank you for your respect and support.

Contents

Chapter 1:The Course of Events

Chapter 2: Arrival

Chapter 3: The Meeting

Chapter 4: Trial Day

Chapter 5: Julia

Chapter 6: The Farm

Chapter 7: Transitions

Chapter 8: A Proposition

Chapater 9: New Friends

Chapte 10: The Hunt

Chapter 11: Elizabeth

Chapter 12: The Dance

Chapter 13: A Partner

Chapter 14: Memories

Chapter 15: Sage Advice

Chapter 16: Winter

Chapter 17: A Mystifying Letter

Chapter 18: The Visit

Chapter 19: Christmas

Chapter 20: New Life

Final Thoughts

Connect With Me

Acknowledgments

Spring Thaw

Chapter 1

The Course of Events

Selena leaned her head against the train window, willing the vibrations racking her body to still. Instead, she found that the jarring glass only increased her discomfort, and she shifted helplessly back to her original position. Four tedious days of travel drew to a close. At times she had thought they would never end, but not today. Today, she would give anything to delay the imminent culmination, even for an hour. She peered outside through the dusty window. The dull ache in her stomach intensified as the train raced forward to the life that lay ahead and rushed away from her tragic past.

As the Oregon Short Line veered west on its final length of journey, the Columbia River unveiled before her. Water, the color of slate, spilled across the wide expanse of dusty ground spanning the horizon until, bumping into an embankment far in the distance, it flowed companionably with the moving train. Behind the river conifer trees swept across the dark soil leaving a lush green blanket draped over the hillside. The breathtaking view distracted the woman, but the splendor only momentarily suspended her mounting apprehension. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the creased envelope, and unfolded the letter, softened from continual inspection.

Portland, O.R.

April 5, 1898.

Mrs. Lewis,

After considering the responses to my recent advertisement in the Chicago Tribune, I have selected your reply as the best match for my needs. Provided your circumstances have not changed, you will find a ticket reserved in your name at the Kankakee train station. The train departs for Portland, Oregon, on the 5th of May. Upon arrival you will be transported by the Smith family to their home where you may take the necessary time to rest from your journey. My friends will notify me when you feel ready to discuss my proposition and the logistics of such a choice. If after our discussion you choose not to accept the negotiated terms, you will pay for your own return fare home. If I choose to reconsider, I will purchase a return trip ticket to your original destination or provide a comparable monetary gift for you to begin a new life here in town.

Please convey your final decision before embarking on the journey to allow ample time for preparations.

Respectfully,

Dirk Johnson

The letter slipped from Selena’s fingers onto her lap. Her brow furrowed in thought as she stared out the window at the ever-changing scenery. The hills altered, looming larger with each mile of railroad track traveled until suddenly the landscape erupted into towering cliffs surging up to the sky. Like fortress walls, they imprisoned her memories, entrapping them. As the train chugged forward, her thoughts drifted back, back to the tragedy that propelled her at twenty-eight to make such a rash decision.

***

Selena Lewis grew up on a small farm east of Chicago, part of a large family, respectable, but poor. As the family grew in number, her parents’ financial needs mandated the decision to send their oldest child away into servitude. A common practice to make ends meet, most young women of her generation complied, but young and headstrong, Selena despised the idea. Bitter, she ran off with a seventeen year old boy named John who had turned her head.

After waking up the parson in the dead of night, the young pair headed south toward Texas with no more than their small bags and a dream of ranching. Naïve and penniless, their journey ended after just a few day’s travel, sooner than either expected. Their meager finances forced them to stop in a small town south of Chicago and pursue none other than the servitude Selena had desperately tried to escape. She acquired a job in the local mercantile while John gravitated to farm work.

The drudgery of hard labor proved a tenacious master but had not prepared the self-centered girl for the daunting lessons that would soon consume her life. She recalled her past like it was yesterday.

Selena, Selena! Max screamed her name out in the street.

Selena looked out the store-front window as the young boy bounded up the mercantile stairs. At eight, the merchant’s son was often loud, but this was different. She heard the intensity in his voice.

The door flew open. Max ran to her side and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the door. Doc needs you real quick.

Cold, icy hands gripped her legs, anchoring them to the floor. She knew it was John; he needed her. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she didn’t move. The firm arms of her employer guided her forward. Numb, she crossed the dusty road. Splotches of blood directed her steps like a cursed talisman. She followed its lead to a nearby home and up the creaking staircase.

Anna, the doctor’s wife, opened the bedroom door. Using her body to block Selena’s entrance, she grabbed Selena’s quivering hands. John took a severe blow to the head.

Selena stared at the woman without seeing.

A snake spooked one of the mares being transported off the train. Selena, it’s not good.

Pushing Anna aside, Selena forced herself into the room, but stopped short at the sight of her husband’s limp body on the blood-soaked sheets. Selena felt Anna by her side. The doctor stepped in front of her. His mouth moved, but Selena could hear nothing. His face faded into a dark tunnel as life flowed from her, and she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Selena lived in a trance. She spent weeks sitting by John’s bed, praying desperately to a God she did not know for her husband’s recovery. God answered that prayer, but Selena never forgave Him. John recovered, of sorts, but not as the husband she knew. Selena’s answered prayer delivered her a four-year old boy named Johnny. The accident erased all memory of Selena for John, so although the town knew John and she were married, Johnny never did. Dreams crashed around her like the thunder of the summer nights: dreams of a family, dreams of the future, dreams of life.

Selena moved their possessions out of the small cottage home they rented and into the merchant’s cramped attic rooms. Her trivial income at the store and the merchant’s compassion allowed for their survival. Living upstairs over the store permitted her to monitor Johnny while she continued to work below.

Like her husband, Selena never completely recovered. Humiliated and ashamed, she never even told their families of the crisis. John’s mother had died earlier that year, and their hasty departure from town still troubled Selena’s conscience. Her parents had a brood of their own children to manage, and their daughter’s return with a disabled husband would have proved overwhelming to the small home and finances. People of the town did their best to care for the tragic pair, but time dulled their importance and a desolate life began. Months passed into years, and loneliness froze Johnny’s Sellie into a shell of the vivacious young woman she had once been. Menial tasks to provide for her invalid partner drove her very existence. Ladies in town invited her to socials and church picnics, but that life departed with her husband. She found no enjoyment in the things that used to enliven her; maybe that was because no one can feel alive while dead.

Troutdale. Next stop, Troutdale. The conductor’s cry brought Selena back to the present. She arched her back to relieve the muscles that tensed with her memories. Out the window, the river spread noticeably in dimension. Dark clouds formed over the mounting peaks paralleling her deep thoughts. Rain splattered the windows, streaking trails downward across the dusty glass. She raised her fingers to trace the cascading path. Johnny would have loved to see such scenery. She missed him. Tears welled with the streaming thoughts. Never again a husband, Johnny over time became a beloved child, and now even that was gone. Her hand clenched tightly as she wrestled with her past.

Ten long years she mothered him until the day the fever struck. She had been too busy to notice the flushed cheeks at first, but by evening her companion writhed in pain. The burst appendix took him within the week. That was six months ago, right before Christmas. Though life had been hard, it had been predictable; now there was no routine, no reason to wake up each morning. The merchant encouraged her to continue working on at the general store, but Max, a grown young man himself, supplied the necessary staff for the family business.

Selena walked down the road one evening contemplating her situation. Staring down from the bridge, she gazed at the river. The recent spring rains swelled the water spewing under her gaze. She watched aimlessly as debris churned in the current, the surging water propelling it forward into the unknown. Her life resembled a leaf swirling below. It had once drifted innocently down through the air, completely unaware of the turbulence that would soon control its every movement. She watched the leaf dart haphazardly amongst the rocks until it left her sight. Saddened, she walked back to her empty room.

In the midst of this tumultuous transition, Selena’s life came to a crossroads. One cold March morning several young women fluttered through the mercantile door, their capricious voices bubbling ahead of them.

You cannot be serious? the first girl gasped. What did your uncle say?

Personally, I think he approved. Lowering her voice, the second girl continued. I mean look at her, a mouse of a girl. Do you really think anyone will ever marry her? Uncle Jake’s getting older and worries about her future. What happens when he can no longer work? Granted, she keeps herself busy, but how much money can she make mending and washing? That won’t last forever!

So she responded to the advertisement? Well, I never… What if the man drinks… or beats her?

I couldn’t imagine leaving everything I knew for such odds, no matter how desperate I might be!

Well, Joan, your looks won’t make that necessary. A giggle erupted in the room. You have the pick of the crop here, or anywhere you choose to live.

Selena looked up from the cash register as Joan plunked down a bundle of colored ribbon on the counter. Joan’s blond curls and striking face justified her friend’s predictions. No worries of spinsterhood in her future.

So has she heard back from the young man? Joan persisted with her inquiries.

Yes, he wrote several times and recently sent a picture. Lowering her voice, she continued, It certainly left no doubt as to why he must advertise for a wife, but she still seems bent on pursuing the offer. I shudder to think about… The girls’ voices drifted backwards as they exited the room, but ended abruptly when the weighted door jangled shut with authority.

Sellie stared after them piecing the gist of their discussion into its inevitable conclusion: a mail-order bride. It wasn’t a new concept. Colonial brides helped settle Jamestown and the New England colonies years ago, but more recently there had been a renewed surge of advertisements. With the settling of the West, men found themselves isolated and alone; whereas on the East coast ladies outnumbered the men. After the Civil War, this problem escalated to outlandish proportions. With the creation of the Oregon Trail and now the railroad quickly transporting people across the plains, the concept of a mail-order bride became providential to both men and women.

For days Selena pondered the preposterous idea, but like many facets of life, the more time she spent gazing at it, the more familiar and possible the notion appeared. One day looking around the shop to confirm that there were no customers, she walked over to the small stack of newspapers lying nearby. Darting sidelong glances here and there, she flipped through the ink permeated lines until several small advertisements caught her eye. One stood out among the lot, capturing her attention.

Wanted: Woman of European descent between the ages of 21-30 to raise my 2 year old son. Must love children and be willing to maintain a home. Marriage of convenience only: nothing else required or wanted. No picture necessary. Two references mandatory.

Trembling, Sellie stared at the short lines offering the first glimmer of hope in the wearisome life that drudged before her. Of course, she could find a new life here in town, but memories tainted any prospect of a future locally. Although not unattractive, the past ten years dulled her natural glow and severed any desire for her to retrace her youthful past. Calloused emotionally, she could not imagine the process of courting another man. It struck fear and distaste through every fiber of her being. The vitality of her youth died long ago, replaced by the practical necessity of purpose. Growing up in a large family gave her experience with toddlers, and her starved emotions longed for the innocent love of a child, uninhibited and insatiable, without the attachments of a man to rekindle past longings. The advertisement seemed too good to be true, but apprehension caused her to procrastinate still. After a tumultuous week, she tentatively jotted a reply.

Sir,

Your proposal appeals to my needs. Left a childless widow this past winter at the age of 28, I desire fulfillment and purpose in my life. I believe that our mutual needs could prove beneficial to all. Growing up with numerous young siblings, I feel qualified to bring love and nurturing to your young son.

Sincerely,

Selena Lewis

Selena longed to keep this portion of her life private, but references must be provided. Her faithful employer begged her to reconsider, reiterating her own fearful cautions of such a choice, but accepting her resolve, he lavished his praises in a lengthy letter. She attached this to her own reply along with one from the town doctor, the only other person she knew well enough to ask.

***

And now the day had arrived. Stopping at the Troutdale depot, Selena stretched her aching legs. Making her way to the small powder room, she tried to comb life back into her matted chestnut hair. The cracked mirror on the wall made her eyes look sunken. She rubbed her cheeks vigorously trying to wipe away the past. It didn’t matter, she told herself, but she lied; it did. She yearned to be accepted and loved by this young child.

All aboard! The conductor’s cry echoed through the depot. Stepping onto the train, Selena stopped and gazed out the window as the large machine struggled back to life. Swaying her way back to the seat, her heart raced in conjunction with the advancing motion. Apprehension mingled with adrenalin brought color to her cheeks as she sat back down for the last length of the journey to Portland. Outside the window the expansive river narrowed as the train rambled toward its destination. Strands of colored rock cut steps down the cavern to the river bank where the cliffs melted away into a flat terrain, but as the strata disappeared, the trees stretched and grew. Their stunted relatives that had possessed such awkward shapes and sizes along the river banks were no more. Instead, powerful firs soared to the sky along the small, rolling hills, standing like ranks of soldiers guarding their prized land. Before long, the trees stepped aside to reveal the trappings of civilization. A functional river filled with man’s creations appeared. It did not appeal to her. Steamships, barges and buildings dirtied the portrait. Docks built atop docks awaited the ships laden with supplies. The height of the river would not hinder these workmen waiting to unload the merchandise; goods could be reached at either low or high tide. Buildings populated the waterfront.

The distracting scenery pacified her nerves temporarily, but not for long. Grinding brakes, billowing steam and a screeching whistle announced her arrival. She gathered her paltry possessions, mere trifles of her life, and merged with the throng of passengers anxious to leave the iron horse that had consumed their last few days. As she stepped off the train, she found her faltering knees cowards. She glanced around the mingling crowds in the station looking for some sign of recognition, but of course, that was hopeless. Who would know her here? Her stomach tightened in a knot.

Chapter 2

Arrival

Julia Smith pushed her way through the crowd of people gathering at the gate. At only 4’10", her height proved problematic in these types of circumstances. Tenacity made up for her small stature though, and before long she reached the front of the roped off area where she could better view the arriving passengers. Dirk had provided few details of her charge. That didn’t surprise her in the least. What did surprise her was that he had taken such a rash step. She hoped the desperate man might move past his pain once and for all.

Evaluating each woman descending the train steps, she contemplated how best to vocalize