An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [86]
No sooner were they handed menus than a basket of warm bread appeared, along with a relish tray, overflowing with fresh vegetables and a variety of black and green olives.
“Pioneer Square is actually the oldest part of Seattle,” Lesley explained, somewhat conscious of sounding like a teacher in front of her class—or maybe a tour guide. “It was originally an Indian village, and later a rowdy frontier settlement and gold rush town.”
“What’s all the business about mail-order brides?” Chase asked while dipping a thick slice of the bread in olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
“You heard about that?”
“I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for a TV documentary I saw. I only caught the end of it, though.”
“The brides are a historical fact. Back in the 1860s, Seattle had a severe shortage of women. To solve the problem, a well-intentioned gentleman by the name of Asa Mercer traveled East and recruited a number of New England women to come to Seattle. These weren’t ladies of the night, either, but enterprising souls who were well-educated, cultured and refined. The ideal type of woman to settle the wild frontier.”
“What would Asa Mercer have said to induce these women to give up the comforts of civilization? How’d he get them to agree to travel to the Wild West?” Chase asked, setting aside his bread and focusing his full attention on her.
“It might surprise you to know he didn’t have the least bit of difficulty convincing these women. First, there was a real shortage of marriageable men due to the Civil War. Many of these women were facing spinsterhood. Asa Mercer’s proposition might well have been their only chance of finding a husband.”
“I see.”
Lesley didn’t understand his frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he was quick to assure her. “Go on, tell me what happened.”
“The first women landed at the waterfront on May 16, 1864. I remember the day because May 16 is my birthday. Seattle was a riproaring town and I imagine these women must’ve wondered what they were letting themselves in for. But it didn’t take them long to settle in and bring touches of civilization to Seattle. They did such a good job that two years later a second group of brides was imported.”
“They all got married, then?”
“All but one,” Lesley told him. “Lizzie Ordway. Eventually she became the superintendent of public schools and a women’s activist. It was because of her and other women like her that Washington State granted women the right to vote a full ten years ahead of the constitutional amendment.”
“Now you’re the one who’s frowning,” Chase commented.
“I was just thinking that… I don’t know,” she said, feeling foolish.
“What were you thinking?” Chase asked gently.
She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to voice the fears that gnawed at her. That she was afraid she’d end up like Lizzie, unmarried and alone. These few details were all Lesley knew about the woman’s life. She wondered if Lizzie had found fulfillment in the women’s suffrage movement. If she’d found contentment as a spinster, when her friends had married one by one until she was the only one left. The only one who hadn’t been able to find a husband.
“Lesley?” Chase prompted.
“It’s nothing,” Lesley said, forcing herself to smile.
The waiter came just then, to Lesley’s relief, and they ordered. Their dinner was wonderful, but she’d expected nothing less from this restaurant.
Afterward, they caught the streetcar and returned to the waterfront. On the short ride, Lesley regaled Chase with the history of the vintage streetcars, which had been brought from Australia.
“This is Tasmanian mahogany?” Chase repeated.
“And white ash.”
“I’m impressed by how well you know Seattle’s history,” Chase said when they climbed off the streetcar.
“I’m a teacher, remember?”
Chase grinned and it was a sexy, make-your-knees-weak sort of smile. “I was just wondering why they didn’t have anyone as beautiful as you when I was in school. I only ever seemed to have stereotypical old-maid teachers.”
Lesley laughed, although his words struck close to home. Too