Mail Order Sweetheart. Christine Johnson

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       Chapter Six

      Sawyer had never been nervous before a concert in the past, but Saturday he tugged at the collar of his good shirt. The tie was choking him. Or was it the fact that the whole town knew about the advertisement? Fiona was bound to say something, and he had no idea what he’d tell her. He couldn’t come right out and reveal that he was the bachelor supposedly seeking a wife. He certainly couldn’t tell people that he hadn’t placed the advertisement and had no intention of marrying right now. That hadn’t worked for Garrett Decker, and it wouldn’t work for him.

      Still, as the days passed without a single response, he began to wonder what was wrong. Was it the advertisement or him? Had Fiona figured out that he was the prospective bridegroom?

      As always, he stopped at the boardinghouse an hour before they performed. The brief walk to the hotel left them plenty of time to warm up before many guests and diners arrived.

      She wore the emerald green gown—her favorite and the one she seemed to think most like those worn by the upper class. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that those born to wealth most often chose conservative colors and styles. The worst of them would look down their noses at Fiona’s exuberant attire. He found it refreshing, for her gowns matched her temperament perfectly.

      “I expect a large crowd,” she said as they walked the boardwalk between the two businesses. “It’s been a long winter, after all.”

      “We did perform a few times at the boardinghouse.”

      “It’s not the same, and you know it. The hotel is roomier and more...professional.”

      Sawyer was again reminded of the talent and perseverance that brought her to the New York City stage. Many dreamed but few reached that lofty goal. Fiona had. Again he wondered why she would leave her blossoming career to answer an advertisement for a mail-order bride in a lumber town. According to Pearl, Fiona still searched the personal advertisements. Yet she had not responded to his.

      He held the door of the hotel for her and escorted her into the dining room. A smattering of applause greeted them, and she flitted from one table to the next, thanking them for their gracious response to her return.

      That left Sawyer to warm up on the piano. After a couple months of inactivity and icy temperatures, it was slightly out of tune. He could fix that but had forgotten to bring the tools with him. He’d been preoccupied with the looming catastrophe caused by that advertisement. Even if Fiona wrote to him, he couldn’t mislead her into thinking he wanted a wife. Not now. And she seemed determined to marry as soon as possible.