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saying, this is an excellent idea, and one I don’t think you can afford to pass up. Do you want to be a bachelor all of your life? That sounds like a lonely existence to me. Besides, you have more than just yourself to think about—you have Davey to consider. Please, Zach, don’t let this opportunity pass you by. I know it’s the true desire of your heart that you find a woman to love.”
    “Lucille, I wouldn’t even know what to write.”
    “I would be happy to help you with that, but we can talk more about it later. There then,” Lucille patted his hand. “It’s all settled. I’ll find some names of some newspapers in the East, and we’ll get started on this plan.”
    ***
    The sound of his horse whinnying brought Zach back to the present. After reading the letter from Dovie, he realized again that he never should have allowed Lucille to talk him into her silly plan. “I might as well open the other letter,” he said. He read the outside of the lilac envelope. “Boston, huh?” Taking the letter out of the envelope, he noticed it was scented, and he held it to his nose. It was the scent of spring, and it made him wish it was April instead of October. Opening the letter, he saw the impeccable handwriting, which read:
    September 20, 1881
    Dear Mr. Sawyer,
    This letter is in response to your advertisement in the Boston Herald regarding a mail-order bride. I believe I meet the qualifications you specified in your advertisement.
    My name is McKenzie L. Worthington. I am a Boston native, twenty-four years of age, possess an outgoing demeanor, and am well educated. I am the middle child of three daughters born to Arthur and Florence Worthington, and, for generations, our family has attended Fourth Street Presbyterian Church.
    I look forward to receiving your response.
    Most sincerely,
    McKenzie L. Worthington
    1589 Wild Willow Avenue
    Boston, Massachusetts
    The letter was brief in comparison with the other letter, and Zach felt grateful for the difference—not only in length, but also in content. He stared at McKenzie’s letter and felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t know McKenzie L. Worthington, but something within him told him he soon would. If this is the woman You have planned for me to marry, Lord, please make it clear to me, he prayed silently.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Did you hear the news?” Lucille whispered to Wilma Waterston, the wife of the town blacksmith, Wayne.
    “What news is that?” Wilma asked, turning her right ear to Lucille. She lived for the moments when her closest friend had new information to share with her. With little happening in the remote, Western town, news was precious.
    “Zach received not one, not two, but seven responses so far to his advertisement for a mail-order bride!” Lucille’s excitement precluded her from speaking as quietly as she had hoped.
    “Surely you jest!” Wilma gasped. “Seven responses already? Hasn’t it been only three months since he placed the ad? I bet Mr. Victor will be kept quite busy at the post office once Zach receives even more responses. Why, I’d wager that Pine Haven has never seen as much mail as it’s about to see.”
    “I agree. What’s more, I asked him just the other day—” Lucille began, but she was interrupted.
    “Now, what is it that y’all are talking about?” Eliza Renkley asked. “Here we all are, sittin’ in a quiltin’ circle, and Lucille, the bearer of all news, good and bad, is whisperin’ to Wilma. Do share with the rest of us, Lucille,” Eliza begged in her Tennessee accent.
    “Yes, Lucille, what news have you to share with us today?” Marie Kinion asked.
    “Well, you see, I was just telling Wilma about the latest on Zach’s mail-order bride situation,” Lucille said. She began her news conference the same way each time at the quilting circle. She’d share the information only with Wilma, but when the rest of the women begged her, she’d then tell them, as well. Lucille loved the attention.