Dear Mr. White by Kit Morgan

Dear Mrs. Pettigrew,

My name is Oscar White. I run a stage stop with my family between Clear Creek and Oregon City in the state of Oregon. We homesteaded here in 1849. I live with my two younger brothers, Henry and Anson, and our mother.

After careful consideration, I find myself in need of a wife. I’m not getting any younger, and figured it was time. I am forty-five years of age, a simple man with simple needs. I am tall, so a woman of some height would be good. I work hard as does my family, so don’t need no wilting flower. She’s got to be strong and able to help my ma and me run things. That means cooking, sewing, mending, the usual chores for women folk. She’s also got to be good-natured. We run a fine stage stop and have a good reputation. I don’t want it sullied by some woman with bad manners and a temper.

Respectfully Yours
Oscar White

But what he didn’t tell a future bride, was about the isolation she’d have to endure. The White’s Stage Stop was in the middle of nowhere, five days travel from the nearest town. Other than his mother, she’d be the only other woman there. No friends, no social circles, no steady contact with anyone but his family. But then, his future bride has things yet to be revealed of her own …