Giovanna: The Cowboy's Calabrese Mail Order Bride (Sweet Land of Liberty Brides Book 1) (2 page)

“What now? I’m coming, I’m coming,” Mr. Vincenza said to the sound of desperate knocking at the back door of his shop. “Giovanna! What’s this?”

Mr. Vincenza swung open the door, took Rosa from her arms and placed her on a small settee. He listened to her breathing and put a cloth with ointment on her chest. Rosa stirred and coughed, but seemed to breathe easier even if she didn’t open her eyes.

“Rosa is a very sick child,” Mr. Vincenza said. “You can rub this ointment on her chest to help her breathe, but I have nothing for the fever. She should see a doctor. In fact, you should take her to a hospital,” he said.

“Rosa, speak to me!” Giovanna cried over her small child. Mr. Vincenza left to greet a customer and Giovanna sat holding Rosa’s hand. Rosa’s eyes fluttered open for a moment and she smiled at Giovanna, before launching into a new round of coughing that shook her small body.

“I’m going to find a way to take care of you, I promise!” Giovanna whispered through her tears. “Please stay with me,
mi
carina
. I’ll find a way.”

Laars Gundersen drove back to his farm with gold in his shirt pocket. Not real gold, but the solid feeling just the same of a stronger future. He’d finally received a letter from a woman who could become his wife. He’d glanced over it quickly in town, and now as he entered his sparsely furnished home, he hurried to his reading chair to take his time and study it.

Giovanna.
He said the strange name a few times in his mind, then spoke it out loud. Giovanna. So different sounding from the Ilsas and Ingrids he knew in the close-knit Norwegian community he came from in Minnesota.

“Dear Mr. Gundersen,” the letter began. He leaned back and pictured her writing at a small table under a dim lamp, holding the pen and thinking hard just as he had when he wrote the ad. He read that she was widowed and caring for her four-year-old daughter, Rosa. She boasted about her skills, her ability to work hard, and her love of her new country. Any man would be happy to see such a response and Laars was overwhelmed at his good fortune. He reached for his writing box and took up his pen.

Dear Giovanna,

I was fascinated to hear about you, an industrious woman indeed. I am impressed by your skills and energy. With all confidence that as much as I know is fair, I would like you to come meet me, see my claim and be my wife. It’s not an easy life but a good one here in the Dakota territory. Together we’ll work my claim and I’ll look after you. I hope to find in you as suitable a companion as you will in me.

Please use this money to arrange travel for yourself and Rosa to Kansas City and on to Springvale. From there, the stationmaster will put you on a coach to Faring. Let me know your date of arrival and I will come to town to retrieve you.

Yours only,

Laars Gundersen

Laars read over his offer. He was a man of few words but wanted to make sure he said everything. He had never considered having a child in the house so soon, and wondered about bringing a woman of such a different background to Faring. Here, almost everyone he knew had come from Norway or been born in Minnesota soon after their parents had arrived. His family and relatives worked hard, happy to have land of their own to farm since it was difficult if not impossible to find in Norway.

He crossed the bare-wood floor of his kitchen and set his coffee cup in the metal pan that served as a sink. He thought about the girls back in Minnesota he knew, of how reluctant they were to move further west. They all seemed happy staying within a few miles of their parents. But Laars had wanted more. A chance to build a bigger farm—and a place to tame for his own.

He knew the Pavente’s who owned the store were from Italy. They were friendly even if they sometimes made his head hurt by talking all at once. He saw how hard they worked and loved their families. He could picture himself with beautiful, dark-haired Giovanna at his side.

He couldn’t know that Giovanna had dictated the letter to Mrs. Forsythe, who edited her words as she wrote, taking out her fear and anguish over Rosa’s health. She wrote a letter true to reality but devoid of the turmoil of emotions that filled Giovanna’s heart.

Giovanna was overawed. Mrs. Forsythe had read her the letter from Laars, and sent back her acceptance. She looked up to the sky with thanks, thankful for God’s benevolence. All night she thought about her life as the wife of a cattleman. She thought of Rosa, getting better and growing up on a farm in Dakota. She could send Rosa to a nice school and she would be at home to take care of her. Maybe, if it wasn’t too much to ask, she wouldn’t be lonely anymore. She wished for love and for a man who would love Rosa as much as she did. She hoped that man was Laars Gundersen.

Giovanna wound up her business in Clarksburg within days. She tearfully visited Frank’s grave for the last time. She bid an emotional farewell to Mrs. Forsythe, and a quieter one to Frank’s brother, promising them she would write. Finally with her few possessions packed in a trunk, she sat on a bench at the railway station with Rosa, thinking of her life. For the second time she was leaving a home she knew to venture further away from anything she knew or loved. The mountains of West Virginia had comforted her in her grief after losing Frank, and given her strength when she didn’t think she could go on caring for Rosa alone. She boarded the train feeling nauseous and fighting back an overwhelming fear. The jolt of the train as it pulled out of the station released a flood of tears. Her heart was torn by the strange new hope for Rosa, a feeling of freedom, and sadness mixed with love for the home she had made since Frank’s death. She might never come back to Clarksburg again.

As the train pulled into Springvale, Giovanna and Rosa boarded the stage to head a few miles south to Faring. Giovanna settled in and introduced herself to the young woman sharing the coach.

“Nice to meet you,” the woman replied. “I’m Jane Snyder. I’ve never seen you around town before.”

“I am just now moving here,” replied Giovanna, not sure of how to explain her circumstances to a complete stranger.

“Please don’t mind my abruptness, but are you here to contract marriage?” Jane put the question as politely as she could.

“Yes-s,” Giovanna stammered. She didn’t realize it would be so obvious. “I’ve been corresponding with a man who staked a claim.” 

Jane shifted a bit in her seat. “I must warn you. You seem to be a sweet girl, but the men here in Dakota attract all sorts of women from the East with a promise to marry them. Why, I’ve heard of cases where the women were told outright lies! They could have promised to marry a downright mean man, or even an actual bandit!” Jane’s eyes flashed at the thought. “Well, I hope yours isn’t like that,” she finished.

“Thank you for your concern,” Giovanna said and turned to look out the window, heart pumping and her stomach twisting in knots. She thought of Clarksburg and her life that she knew, hard as it had been. Maybe it had been foolish to leave and take this risk with Rosa. She stroked Rosa’s hair as she slept in her lap.
My sweet child
. Rosa had learned to not bother her mother with many questions and she trusted Giovanna completely. She was frail yet mature for her age, as she sought not to add to the stresses her mother faced.

As the miles wore on, Giovanna imagined the worst for herself. She feared the shame and dishonor that would come to her if Laars had been lying. She was worried for Rosa and her safety. By the time the driver opened the door and she climbed out of the stage, she had to force back tears and take control of her sinking heart as her eyes searched for Laars.

A tall figure emerged from the sparse crowd coming towards her. Tall, blonde and a little shabby-looking, Laars came forward smiling to greet her.

“Welcome!” he said, his broad, open face covered in a big grin. “The Dakota Territory has awaited you, Giovanna.”

Giovanna returned a faint smile through an exhausted haze. She gave him her hand as the other instinctively hugged Rosa to her side.

Laars politely shook Giovanna’s hand, not taking any notice of Rosa. “You must be so tired from your trip! It’s only a few miles more to the claim. Let me get your luggage. ”

Laars pointed out the roads and landmarks as he drove them in his horse and cart out to the claim. Giovanna stared bleakly at the stark landscape with a sky so huge she felt more lost than ever. He pulled up to a small square home with two outbuildings. Laars had enlarged it from the initial shack he had built on the claim two years ago. It now had a kitchen with a wood stove and room for a table, a sitting room with another small stove, two rooms for sleeping, and a small porch.

“Well, here’s Rosa’s room, and yours until—well, you know,” he said nervously. “Until we are married. My father is coming to stay with us tonight.”

“Thank you,” Giovanna said weakly. “Do you mind if we wash up?”

“Of course! Please rest a while. I have some chores to do before my family arrives to meet you.” Laars closed the door and Giovanna heard his heavy footsteps walk away toward the kitchen.

Giovanna washed her face and hands in the basin, and dampened a cloth to wipe Rosa’s face. They lay together on the bed, and Rosa immediately fell asleep. Giovanna closed her eyes, trying to rest, but all she could do was wipe tears from her eyes as an avalanche of fear flooded her mind.

“What do you think of her, son?” Mr. Gundersen asked Laars as they waited for Giovanna to come out of her room for dinner. “I hope you have done the right thing, considering the ladies in Minnesota that might have made a match with you.”

“Father, we’ve been over this before,” Laars said. “They are happy in Minnesota. I was happy there, too, as a child. But just as you left home for new lands, I have my own dream of what I want in life.”

“Ya, I see,” Mr. Gundersen said. “We left our home country to find new land and homes for ourselves, and our families. We didn’t leave to have our own family permanently scattered to the winds. You know, son, you may go where you want, but you cannot escape yourself.”

“Yes, Father, I know but—“

Laars was grateful for the light footsteps that interrupted the same conversation he had every time he spoke with his father. Giovanna stood quietly in the doorway, little Rosa shyly looking out from behind her skirts.

Laars jumped up and Mr. Gundersen rose stiffly to greet them. “Giovanna, you look—” he paused at the sight of her puffy eyes and red nose. “…a bit tired still. Father, this is Giovanna.”

“Very pleased to meet you,” Giovanna said as she looked up at Mr. Gundersen. “This is my daughter, Rosa,” she said as Rosa hid her face. Giovanna drew herself up to her full height of five feet, three inches. She was like a small cat eyeing two large, but gentle, bears. The men’s heads nearly touched the ceiling as they towered over.

“Hallo,” Mr. Gundersen said, shook her hand, and returned to his seat.

“Well–uh–would you like some tea? The ladies are waiting in the kitchen to meet you,” Laars said.

Some of Laars’s family had come for the wedding the next day. His married sister, Ilsa, her family and two cousins were staying at the boarding house in Faring. Even Laars’s 11-year-old niece Anna was taller than Giovanna. Their blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin were a marvel to her. Their white blouses were decorated with intricate embroidery, and they passed plates of salted fish, bread, cheese and
krumkaker
.

“Look, Mama,” Rosa whispered, pointing at the thin, rolled up cookies covered in powdered sugar. “Can I try one?”

“Yes, dear. They look much like the
pizzelle
we make at Christmastime,” Giovanna whispered back.
It will be good to have some baking pans again
, Giovanna thought.

They asked her polite questions, speaking in low tones, one at a time, with pauses that seemed like ages between sentences. Not at all like Frank’s family, around whom Giovanna could hardly get a word in. As the night wore on, Mr. Gundersen took up a fiddle, and the family sang songs together. Giovanna couldn’t understand the Norwegian folk songs, but she found herself picking up the words when they started a happy American tune:

“Ho! Westward!

Soon the world shall know

That all is grand

In the western land;

Ho! Westward Ho!”

The family sang, celebrating Laars’s and Giovanna’s wedding. Though different from her own family, Giovanna’s sense of fear retreated in their gentle presence. Rosa looked happy, and the women remarked about her beautiful dark hair and eyes.

Mr. Gundersen kept a careful watch on Giovanna before retiring for the night to Laars’s room, and finally the others left, promising to see them at the church the next day.

Laars and Giovanna stood together awkwardly before the door to her room. “Is there anything I can get for you?” said Laars, searching for a hint of responsiveness in Giovanna’s eyes.

She smiled and met his gaze. “Well, I’m just a little tired with all the travel I suppose.” She struggled to conceal the doubts from her face, worried that if Laars knew she was crying in fear earlier, he wouldn’t go through with the marriage.

“I hope you’re happy with the house—and with me. I’m sure you’ll feel better by morning. After all, it’s our wedding day!” said Laars.

“Yes, of course!” Giovanna replied trying hard to sound convincing this time. “Well, good night. Sleep well!” Giovanna quickly stepped into her room and closed the door. Undressing quietly so as not to wake Rosa, she slipped in beside her and fell asleep, her dreams full of train whistles, people waving good-bye, Frank’s face, singing, and church bells.