Chapter Two

E lizabeth Tandy pushed open the weathered door of Brown's Foundling Home. Tied back in a loose bun, her blond hair glinted gold in the sunlight. The green of her eyes mirrored the hope she carried for the girls who resided within these walls.

"Good afternoon!" Elizabeth greeted. She brushed off her skirts, stepping further inside.

Mrs. Jackson, the matron who had watched over Amy and the other children, descended the stairs to meet her visitor. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" she asked, her gaze appraising the well-dressed woman before her.

"Elizabeth Tandy," she said, extending a hand. "I'm a matchmaker from Beckham. I've come with an offer that might interest you and your girls."

"A matchmaker, you say?" Mrs. Jackson's brows lifted in curiosity as she led Elizabeth into a modest parlor. "Please, have a seat. How can you help our young women?"

"What I do is match young women up with men in the west to marry. They exchange letters, or sometimes simply one letter and a telegram, and they are off to marry. I've been doing this for many years now, and I've not matched people who didn't eventually fall in love. Some take longer than others, but they all get there in the end. The men pay for the women's fares to the west, so the girls don't need to worry with that expense."

"These girls are like my own children," Mrs. Jackson admitted, taking a chair opposite her guest. "I don't like the idea of any of them marrying someone sight unseen. I just don't think it's safe."

Elizabeth folded her hands neatly in her lap. "I find respectable men looking for wives and arrange for them to meet women looking for husbands. It's about finding compatibility, giving both a chance to choose."

"Compatibility..." Mrs. Jackson mused. "That sounds reasonable. But these girls, they're not just names on a list to me. They're unique, each with dreams and desires."

"Of course," Elizabeth assured her, her tone earnest. "It's not just about marriage—it's about creating happy homes. It's a chance for new beginnings. I've sent many of my siblings to marry people in the west."

"New beginnings," Mrs. Jackson repeated softly. "That's all any mother wants for her children, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Elizabeth replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Together, we can give them that chance."

Through a crack in the kitchen door, Amy's gaze lingered on the two women conversing in the parlor. The words ‘new beginnings' and ‘chance for love' wafted through the air. A spark ignited in Amy's chest—a flicker of hope that danced in her eyes.

"Marriage..." she whispered to herself. Her heart raced at the thought, her hands pausing while kneading dough.

"Mrs. Tandy?" Amy's voice quivered slightly as she stepped into the room, her apron dusted with flour. She tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, her posture straightening with resolve.

Elizabeth turned toward her, a question in her green eyes. "Yes, my dear?"

"Um..." A brief hesitation, then Amy's conviction solidified. "I overheard talk of...matchmaking?"

"That's right." Elizabeth's voice was gentle, inviting.

"Could I...Would it be possible for me to find someone? To have a real family?" Amy asked.

"Oh, my," Elizabeth replied, tilting her head, considering the young woman before her. "You wish for a husband, then?"

"Yes, ma'am," Amy nodded eagerly. "A home...children." Her cheeks colored with the admission, but she held Elizabeth's gaze firmly. "Lots of them."

"Children are such a blessing," Elizabeth agreed with a soft laugh. "And you cook, I take it?"

"Best pies in Cheerful," Amy said with a hint of pride.

"Then we shall see what can be done, Amy. We'll find you a man who appreciates a good pie as much as a good wife," Elizabeth promised.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tandy. Thank you so much!" Amy's face was filled with gratitude. "I'll have to give notice, of course, so I can come see you in two weeks. Would you mind sharing your address with me?"

Elizabeth shook her head, laughing. "Of course not. I'll write down my address for you, and you can come any time." She took the pencil and paper offered by Mrs. Jackson and quickly scrawled her address.

Amy's heart swelled. She clutched her hands together, the promise of a future painted in her thoughts.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tandy," Amy breathed out, relief and excitement mingling in her words.

"Call me Elizabeth," the matchmaker corrected kindly, her tone suggesting the closeness of friends rather than the formality of their current acquaintance.

"Elizabeth," Amy repeated.

From across the room, Mrs. Jackson watched the exchange, her brows knitting together in a frown of concern. She took slow, measured steps toward them, her skirts whispering against the polished wooden floor.

"Matchmaking is fine talk," Mrs. Jackson interjected, her voice careful but firm. "But these girls are like my own." She glanced at Amy, the bond between them as visible as the lines of worry etching her brow. "I fear for them, out there with strangers."

"Mrs. Jackson," Elizabeth said. "I understand your fears. But I assure you, we're talking about honest men, looking for companionship just as much as these young women are."

"Men can be unpredictable," Mrs. Jackson countered, folding her arms. "And words sweet as honey can turn bitter."

"Which is why they'll be investigated first. If I can't get quick answers to telegrams asking about the men, then I send my husband, Bernard, to check on them. No one's rushing to the altar," Elizabeth explained, her patience evident.

"Still," Mrs. Jackson hesitated. "It's a big world outside this home."

"Sometimes," Elizabeth said, "a leap of faith is all it takes to find where we belong."

"Faith," Mrs. Jackson murmured, the word hanging between them like a prayer.

"Exactly," Elizabeth nodded, reassuringly. "We'll take care of our girls, won't we?"

Mrs. Jackson's gaze lingered on Amy, the oldest of her charges, who stood with eyes full of dreams. "Let me think on it, and I'll come talk to you."

Amy lingered by the doorway, apron dusted with flour from the morning's bread-making. She took a deep breath and approached Mrs. Jackson who was tidying the modest parlor.

"Mrs. Jackson?" Amy's voice was gentle but determined. "May I speak with you?"

The matron paused, setting aside a pile of mending. "Of course, dear," she said, her eyes softening at the sight of Amy's earnest face.

"I've been thinking about what Mrs. Tandy said." Amy clasped her hands together, her gaze steady. "About finding a family..."

Mrs. Jackson nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"This place, it's been more than a home. It's been a family, thanks to you." Amy's eyes traced the familiar walls. "I've watched over the girls like they were my sisters. But I have dreams, Mrs. Jackson. Dreams of a husband, a house filled with laughter and children—a dozen of them."

A smile tugged at the corners of Mrs. Jackson's mouth. "A dozen is quite the handful," she said.

"Yes, but full hands mean a full heart," Amy replied.

Mrs. Jackson studied Amy for a long moment, the weight of years spent nurturing these young souls pressing upon her. Then, slowly, she reached out and took Amy's hands in hers. "You do deserve that full heart, child. And love...love beyond these walls. But the idea of letting you go causes me so much pain."

Tears welled in Amy's eyes, reflecting the shimmer in Mrs. Jackson's own. "I'll never forget this place or you. You've given me so much, taught me how to be kind and helpful. I want to share that with a family of my own."

Mrs. Jackson pulled Amy into an embrace, her resolve strengthening. "Then we shall make sure of it," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll find you that family, my dear. A family where your kindness can bloom and your dreams can soar."

"Thank you," Amy murmured, feeling the depth of the bond they shared, one not even distance could sever.

"Let's have faith," Mrs. Jackson said as they parted, a tear escaping down her cheek. "Faith that there's a perfect match for you out there."

MRS. JACKSON SQUARED her shoulders and took a deep breath before rapping on the polished wooden door of Elizabeth Tandy's residence. Her heart felt light as the door swung open, revealing the matchmaker's bright green eyes and welcoming smile.

"Mrs. Jackson! What a pleasant surprise," Elizabeth exclaimed, stepping aside to allow the matron inside her home. "We'll go to the last door on the left." She called out, "Bernard!" and at once a tall man with blond hair and eyes came to her. "Mrs. Jackson and I would like tea and cookies, if you don't mind."

Bernard gave one nod. "Absolutely."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I hope I'm not intruding," Mrs. Jackson began as Elizabeth waved to indicate she should sit. She settled onto a sofa, the scent of fresh-baked bread wafting from the kitchen.

"Never," Elizabeth assured her, taking a seat opposite her guest. "What brings you here today?"

"It's about the girls," Mrs. Jackson said, hands clasped in her lap. "I have nine young women who are of age to marry. They're ready to head west, to begin lives of their own."

Elizabeth nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. "How wonderful. Though I'm sure you'll miss them."

"However," continued Mrs. Jackson, "I can't bear the thought of sending them off as mail-order brides, marrying men they've never laid eyes on."

A soft frown creased Elizabeth's forehead. "I understand your concern. Sight unseen does seem quite precarious. And even though I've seen it happen myself over fifty times, doesn't mean that you will trust me or the men on the other side of the mail system."

"Exactly," Mrs. Jackson said. "And truth be told, I haven't been asking the girls to move on when they come of age. The home is crowded, but..." She sighed, her gaze falling to the well-worn carpet. "They sleep wherever there's place. It's become a bit of a jumble, but they're my girls."

Elizabeth reached across and gently touched Mrs. Jackson's hand. "I admire your dedication to them," she said warmly. "You've given them a family within those walls."

"Thank you." A small smile tugged at Mrs. Jackson's lips. "But it's time they had families outside of them too."

"That's true," Elizabeth agreed. "And we'll find a way to help them do just that."

Elizabeth paced the parlor slowly. She paused and turned to face Mrs. Jackson with a sudden burst of inspiration.

"Mrs. Jackson, I believe I have a plan!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. "I will write to my sisters in Texas. They can help find respectable men who are looking for wives. We'll arrange for a social gathering—a party at their church. They have social gatherings there at least once a month, so no one will mind."

Mrs. Jackson's brow furrowed slightly, skepticism mingling with her concern. "A party, you say?"

"Yes," Elizabeth continued with a reassuring nod. "It will be a proper occasion. We'll ensure there is a pastor present, should any matches be made. It's much better than just exchanging letters, don't you think? The girls can meet these gentlemen in person—and what's more, I will personally meet them."

The matron of the orphanage took a moment to consider this unconventional idea. Her protective instincts warred with the opportunity for her girls to find love and happiness.

"Elizabeth, I must admit, your plan has merit," Mrs. Jackson finally said, her voice steady but cautious. "But I insist on accompanying the girls myself. I need to see with my own eyes that they will be well-matched and cared for."

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way," Elizabeth replied. "Together, we will watch over them during this journey, and I shall have the opportunity to visit my sisters."

"Very well," Mrs. Jackson agreed, her resolve strengthening with the thought of embarking on such an adventure for the sake of the girls she held so dear. "We shall take great care in guiding them toward their futures."

Elizabeth said, "It seems the stars have aligned perfectly for us. My children are now old enough that I can leave them in my husband's care for a few weeks. It's an opportune moment for me to visit Susan and her family, as well as Alice and her husband, in Fort Worth."

Mrs. Jackson nodded, her eyes reflecting the hope that was slowly replacing her initial apprehension. "That sounds like a sensible plan, Elizabeth. I'm sure your sisters will be delighted to have you."

Without further delay, Elizabeth retrieved a sheet of stationery and a well-worn fountain pen from her desk. She settled herself by the window, allowing the afternoon light to guide her hand as she penned a heartfelt letter to her sister. The words flowed effortlessly, filled with the news of their impending visit and the unique purpose behind it.

TWO WEEKS LATER, A response arrived, bearing the familiar scrawl of Susan Dailey. Elizabeth eagerly broke the seal and unfolded the letter, her green eyes scanning the lines hungrily.

"Dearest Elizabeth," Susan had written, "nothing could excite me more than the prospect of your visit! You and Mrs. Jackson shall have the coziest rooms in our home, and we'll find a way to accommodate the girls as well. Fort Worth will welcome you with open arms!"

Elizabeth called to her husband. "We need to go to Brown's Foundling Home!"

Bernard walked to her. "I'm happy to drive you. Did you receive the letter?"

Bernard had started out as Elizabeth's butler and her investigator of grooms. As they'd married, he'd chosen to keep doing the same tasks he'd done before marriage, and it had worked out well for both of them.

Elizabeth checked on the children, who were with their nanny, Angela, a former resident of the orphanage there in Beckham. "Are they all right?" she asked.

Angela nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Tandy. They're perfect."

"Bernard and I need to drive to the foundling home in Cheerful. We shouldn't be long."

Angela smiled. "Take your time and enjoy the drive. Go out for supper. I don't mind working this evening."

Elizabeth grinned. "We'd like that. Thank you!" As she walked down the stairs, she made a mental note to pay the girl for an extra day that week.

In the buggy, Elizabeth told Bernard about how enthusiastic Susan had sounded about her visit. "Are you sure you don't mind staying with the children?" she asked.

Bernard laughed. "Even if I did, I would tell you to go. You need some time with Susan. And if I run into any trouble, I have Angela, Mary, and your parents close by."

"That's true. Oh, thank you for letting me do this. I'll help the girls and receive a much-needed vacation from my normal duties."

Bernard wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you'll get the reprieve."

"Speaking of reprieves...Angela said we should go out for supper. Do you think Boston is too far away?"

Bernard laughed. "The children aren't that unruly."

"Which children do you live with?" Elizabeth asked. Their children weren't truly unruly. It was more they were young and boisterous. They weren't doing as Elizabeth's younger siblings had and hanging upside down from trees over the road as they threw rotten vegetables.

He chuckled. "I would love to take you for supper. There's a new restaurant near the general store. They are purported to have exceptional food."

"Purported," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "You use words like that, and my insides turn to mush, and I think about canoodling!"

"Keep that thought in mind. We'll have supper and sneak up the stairs to canoodle for a while."

She giggled. "The children make everything a little more difficult, but I wouldn't trade them for the world."

Bernard stopped the buggy in front of the foundling home. As he jumped down to help Elizabeth to the ground, she drew his head down for a quick kiss. "You're a better man than I deserve, Bernard Tandy."

Without waiting for a response, Elizabeth hurried up to the front door of the home, opening the door and calling out.

Within moments, both Mrs. Jackson and Amy had joined her in the parlor.

"Listen to this," Elizabeth said, unable to keep the elation from her voice as she read parts of the letter aloud. "Susan is thrilled! And she assures us they'll make arrangements for the girls, even though the specifics are yet to be worked out."

Mrs. Jackson, who had been watching Elizabeth with a mixture of anticipation and fondness, sighed in relief. "Bless her. That's one worry off our minds then."

"It is," Elizabeth replied, folding the letter with care. "We're set for Texas. Our little adventure is about to begin."

Amy shook her head. "I don't know if I should be happy or shaking in my boots."

Elizabeth smiled. "We'll find the perfect man for you."