Mail Order Bride: Christy by Vivi Holt

1889
    CHAPTER ONE
    Christy
    “Christy, please move your head away from the window. And stop that daydreaming!”
    The words of Christy Hancock’s mother, in her broad Irish lilt, broke through into the world where Christy was currently immersed, a smile drifting across her parted lips. The train may have been heading west, from Pennsylvania to California, but in her mind Christy was still in Philadelphia, playing her piano by the bay windows in the front room of their red, brick house. She loved that view, overlooking the busy street. She could sit there for hours practicing Bach and watching the neighbors scurry up and down Maple Avenue as they carried on with their busy lives.
    Christy had never wanted to leave Philadelphia, and at aged nineteen, could have stayed there on her own since she was old enough to be independent in the eyes of the law. But law and heart are very different things, and Christy was still girl-like and innocent in many ways. Besides, the only family Christy had in this land was her Ma and Pa — the remainder of her extended family were still across the ocean in Ireland and she barely remembered anything about them. She couldn’t bear to watch her parents leave her behind. So, with great reluctance, Christy found herself on the transcontinental railway.
    “Sorry, Ma,” Christy said.
    Her Ma sighed, “Christy, instead of daydreaming it would serve you better to use your time to focus on your studies. If you’re to be accepted to the teacher’s college when we get to California, you will have to set your mind to studying for the entry examination. You know you will have to make a living for yourself when we get there. At the very least, I think you should try to learn to focus on what is real and in front of you right here and now. I raised you to be sensible, and I can assure you that being so will get you much further in life than daydreaming will.”
    Christy nodded. She shook herself and sat up straight, trying to focus on what was in front of her. Across from Christy in the carriage sat her mother, a stern but kind-hearted woman, and her father, a quiet man with a greying beard who allowed Mrs. Hancock to make the bulk of the decisions. It was Christy’s Ma who had decided, when Christy was only six years of age, that the family should cross the ocean and leave Ireland behind to make new lives in America. And it was Christy’s Ma who had decided that the family ought to join the trail of pioneers heading west.
    That journey across the sea seemed like an eternity ago, another lifetime, Christy thought. This rail journey was a new experience for her, and for hours she had relished watching the fields and woods flashing by the window beside her as the train sped across the country. A green hollow filled with brilliantly colored flowers filled her vision for a second and she longed to be outside romping through them, their sweet scent filling her nostrils. At the very least it would be nice to stretch her legs after hours spent on the train. A herd of deer shied away from the noise of the train, and bounded across the hollow, their soft, wet noses raised high in the air.
    Christy sighed and leaned back in her seat. They’d left Philadelphia on a large, black steam train ten hours ago and Christy was feeling the lethargy that only utter boredom and the restrictions of a confined space for an extended amount of time could bring. At first she had been overwhelmed by the beauty of the scenery they flew past. There had been large, still lakes, covered with water fowl. Then, they chugged past deep, dark, woods holding unknown secrets and tall trees with trunks thicker than a dozen men standing together. She had seen birds of every kind, lithe brown deer, white-tailed rabbits, and once a black bear foraging along the edge of the woods beside the train tracks. But now, even the scenery was becoming tiresome, making her dizzy if she watched it flying past for too long.
    “Ma, how long until we reach