Page 19 of Mail Order Bride: A Psychological Thriller

And then, Daddy got sick, and I didn’t leave, which made me look like a liar, and now Jacob is in love with Sue Benson, a plain and somewhat simpleminded girl from two counties over. Sure, I could easily win his affections back, but that would admit a certain sort of defeat I cannot take. I said what I said, and I meant it.

Daddy shuffles over and stands just beyond my shoulder. This is one of his good days. They’re coming fewer and further between, but I suppose we take what we can get.

“So,” he asks, pointing at the stack of letters. “Have you narrowed it down?”

I let out a long and heavy sigh. “How can I possibly? There are so many.”

“Well,” he says, “I guess there’s always the Smith boy.”

He knows me too well.

“Too soft,” I say, stacking the envelopes.

In the end, I know it has to come down to a gut feeling. Maybe I’ll choose the man who seems most like my father: hardworking, honest, and reliable. Certainly no one as soft as Jacob Smith. Hopefully, he won’t be a bore.

But then, just as soon as I think I have it figured out, I read the letter again, or receive another, and sure enough, there’s a glaring fault and I realize I could never marry that man.

The letters, though, they don’t stop coming. Men of all ages, shapes, and sizes. Rich men, poor men, men with families, men without. Some of them are handsome, some of them are not. Some of them are kind, some of them are not. I have my work cut out for me, to be sure. It’s this or look for another job. Maybe my father is right. Maybe I should give courtship a shot. It might get me out of this town. With any luck, I’ll be closer to California, and the industry.

I spend the entire afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by piles of letters and pictures, trying to decide which man to choose. Annie is curled at my feet and every once in a while she looks up with her puppy-dog eyes asking to be pet or to be let out. But mostly she rests her head on my foot and snores loudly as I read through each letter carefully, look at each picture closely. A thousand possibilities, a thousand dangers. I don’t want to make a mistake. After hours of careful consideration, I finally make a decision: I’ll narrow it down to ten and invite them all for a visit. It’s best to keep my options open.

But then something happens that changes everything. I get a call from the police. One of the men I was corresponding with is dead. Murdered! I liked him. He seemed…nice. Now I have to start the process all over again.

I ask for details, but they won't give me any. They tell me it's still under investigation, and ask if I knew anything about what might have happened.

Of course I didn't.

“There's a lot of crazy people out there,” the detective said. “You need to be careful.”

“I’ll say.”

We hung up the phone, and I didn't really give it any further thought. That is, until something else happens. Something that changes everything.