Mail Ordered Deception

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Monica lay there for what seemed like hours. She smiled to herself as she dressed into her own nightgown. She chose the light blue floral print that she wore on her first night at the manor. Somehow that seemed fitting to her. The fireplace was going strong, lighting up the room. She never imagined that she could feel so strongly about a person. Yet there she was, unable to tear her mind away from Jackson. The way he looked at her and the way he touched her made Monica feel adored and treasured. With the way things had been building between them, Monica wondered why she ever wanted to leave.

Looking at the nightstand beside her, Monica saw the latest letter from her mother. Unable to go to sleep anytime soon, she decided to give it a read. She hoped there would be some update to her father’s condition. He seemed to be improving, but her mother had not mentioned anything of it in the previous letter. Lowering the paper next to the lamo to better see the writing, she began to read.

Monica Darling,

You have been such a good girl. We have had more than enough with what you sent these past weeks. I don’t know how you managed to do it, but you never disappoint. The farm is doing good too. I wish only that it had been enough.

Monica stopped reading here, afraid for what she guessed was coming. She was tempted to throw the letter into the fire, thinking it might prolong the heartbreak ahead. Unable to bring herself to go without knowing for sure, she continued to read.

I am so sorry my girl. But even with those fancy pants doctors, your daddy is gone to Jesus. I can’t begin to say how sorry I am to have put you through this only for it to not amount to anythin. The only good thing I can say is that without needin the doctors anymore, you can come home now. We’ll figure out the divorce part, but come home to me Monica. Your momma needs you here now.

Love Momma.

Monica dropped the letter to the ground, her hands shaking violently. What was once a beautiful night had changed so quickly to the worst she had ever lived through. She pulled her legs to her chest and covered her mouth to hide the sobs as she grieved the loss of her father.

Jackson’s Point of View

Bethany went to bed easily after the exhausting events of the day, luckily still too small to understand what she had walked in on. Wesley on the other hand kept patting him on the back and saying how happy he was for him. Wherever Jackson went, the servants all gave him smiles, telling him that Wesley did not wait to spread the gossip. He would roll his eyes and pretend it was nothing, but he could not deny that he had not felt this happy since Lilly. It was a good thing that Bethany took to her so from the very beginning. It was a natural first step for Jackson to be able to fall in love again.

Realization stuck him like a bolt of lightning. He was indeed, in love with Monica. How could he not be? She had a kind heart, willing to help anyone in need, but was not afraid to stand up for herself and tell him what needed to be done. She was feisty and playful, willing to be a kid for Bethany, and yet took her responsibilities seriously. To top it off, she was absolutely beautiful. With a spring in his step, Jackson decided to go back up and check on her, maybe see where a kiss or two might lead.

He took the steps two at a time until he got to her door. Still the gentleman, he knocked on the wood a few times. As he waited, he noted that there were still lights from under the door, so she should still be awake. He knocked again. After several minutes, Jackson tried the knob and found it unlocked. When he opened the door, he could not believe what he saw.

The room was empty. The wardrobe doors were open and a few dresses were missing, Monica was not in the room and her bag was not at the foot of the bed anymore. Jackson was too stunned to speak, but he saw a note on her pillow. He bent down to pick it up and his heart crushed upon the words she had written for him

Jackson,

I am so sorry, but by the time you read this, I will be on my way to the train station to leave you. I have found you to be a wonderful person and Little Beth will always remain in my heart. But this life is not for me. I am meant for smaller things, and you deserve someone from the heights of society. Though what we shared was beautiful, it must stay as a dream.

I do not need anything more from you and will not take anything in te divorce.

Thank you for everything,

Monica

Jackson bolted out of the manor as quickly as his legs could carry him. His driver had long gone home for the day, so he took the car and sped into town, praying he could catch her in time. Unfortunately, even though the hour was late, traffic was not in his favor. Cars and horses were clogging up the street from the saloon and the hotel and getting through took much longer than he thought.

When he finally reached the train station, he went to the teller booth and saw the train schedule list. The last one had left not ten minutes prior and the waiting area was empty. She was gone, and there was no way he could find her now. Monica could have taken any connecting train to any destination. Broken, he took his car back home and tried to figure out what he would say to Bethany in the morning.

Jackson returned to the manor and went straight to bed. He tossed and turned, but sleep did not come.

By the time the sun rose the next morning, Jackson was exhausted. Out of habit, he grabbed his coffee and headed to the balcony, half hoping that the night before had been a terrible dream. Yet reality did not hold back as he was met with silence except for the wind. The balcony to his left was somber without Monica. Without anything more to do, he went down to Bethany’s floor. She was still sleeping, but he did not want her to find out from anyone else that Monica was gone. So, with heavy footsteps, Jackson approached the bed and ran his fingers through her hair. Bethany stirred awake and grinned at seeing her father there.

“Good morning, daddy,” she said softly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Jackson responded.

“Where’s Monica? She said she would help me make pancakes this morning.” Jackson continued to stroke her hair. Taking a deep breath, he began.

“Monica is not here anymore. She had to go back to her old home.” Bethany did not seem to understand.

“When will she be back?” Jackson pulled his little girl into an embrace so she could not see the pain on his expression.

“She is not going to be back, baby.” Expecting the worst, Jackson clung to her tighter, almost fearful he would go overboard. Sure enough, once the news sunk in, Bethany began screaming and crying, the front of Jackson’s shirt soaking with the tears. She thrashed her legs, causing his legs to bruise and she beat his chest.

“No! No! NO!” she shouted between sobs. “I want momma! I want momma!” Jackson thought his heart could not break any farther but when he heard his daughter call for Monica as her mother, he was proven wrong. He continued to hold her tightly until she was finally able to calm down. He wiped her cheeks dry and she was left with only sniffles.

“I am so sorry.”

“Was it something I did? Did I bother her too much?” Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Of course not, Little Beth. Monica loves you so much. She even left a note saying you would always be in her heart. But she decided she just did not want to be married to me anymore.” Bethany’s brow furrowed as if contemplating this.

“I love you daddy.” She threw her arms around his neck and was now the one comforting him. Jackson counted himself lucky that he had such a compassionate, wonderful daughter.

Monica’s Point of View

The train ride home was nowhere near as pleasant as the first one Monica had taken. Not wanting to take any more with her than she absolutely needed, it got her a lower class car with wooden seats and the windows were drafty. The only food she was able to purchase was an apple from a man walking down offering them to the riders. The car was also packed, so the noise that surrounded her was almost deafening. By the time she reached her destination, she was tired, sore and hungry.

She scanned the station when she exited the train and found her mother waiting for her by one of the benches. Overwhelmed with the time she missed, Monica ran to her, and they held each other in the station for a good long while.

“Monica, darlin’ are you alright?” her mother held her face, looking her over and up and down. “You do look alright. Eatin well I see and not a bruise on ya. They treat ya right, girl?” her mother spoke without taking a breath, causing Monica to physically slow her down by raising her hand in front of her.

“I’m well, momma. I promise everything went according to plan. I was treated better than I ever could have hoped. I even made some friends.” Monica smiled sadly, thinking of the people she left behind. She wondered if Little Beth knew if she was gone by that point. Jackson surely did. She wondered if she would be missed.

“Well,” her mother began, forcing Monica from her thoughts, “I’m gonna make your favorite for suppa tonight.” Monica forced a smile and nodded as if she was paying attention. Her mother went on and on about the farm and how her old bones could not handle the work alone. She would make money as a seamstress but needed Monica to do the chores. Sighing, Monica convinced herself this was the life she was meant to lead in the first place, just as she had said in the letter she left for Jackson.

They rode in her family’s horse drawn buckboard all the way back to the farm. Monica had gotten so used to the car rides and the soft upholstered seats, that she felt jostled with every bump and step. When they got to the farm, she saw the pigs in the front pen and heard the chickens in the back. The house was smaller than the employee houses on the ranch, and Monica wondered how long it would take to get used to life as it was.

Monica wasted no time in putting the horses in their two stall barn while her mother went inside to start preparing supper. She joined in the kitchen once the horses were settled and began peeling the potatoes.

“Momma?” Monica half whispered, wanting to ask a question.

“Yes, dear?”

“When can we handle the divorce?” Monica ached thinking about it, but knew it would only hurt worse the longer it was put off.

“Well, we can get the papers sent off tomorra, but these things take time. He has t’ sign em and send em back and then we get em notaried by the courts. Should be done in about a month, assumin he don’t delay none.” A month, Monica thought to herself. A month of waiting. There was nothing she could do about the time frame, so she set back to peeling and tried to put her thoughts anywhere else.