How Jonathan and Clara First Connected

Jonathan to Clara

Miss Whitmore,

I came across your name in the pages of The Christian Register that make their way to our part of Wyoming Territory every so often. I do not usually pay much attention to the “Announcements” and “Correspondence” notices — too many are frivolous or poorly meant. But when I read the brief notice that an educated young lady in Philadelphia was willing to correspond, either for a teaching position or with the prospect of marriage, I stopped longer than I care to admit.

I cannot pretend to know the circumstances that placed your name there, and I mean no disrespect in mentioning it. To me, it did not read as desperation. It read as possibility — the possibility of someone who is both trained to teach and willing to start fresh. That is rare in these parts, rarer still in a woman of character.

Our small settlement here has tried and failed to keep a teacher. Families come, families go, and the children suffer for it. I have thought many times that if a teacher could be persuaded to stay, our little town would flourish. So when I read your name, I thought — here is someone who could belong, if she wished to.

And if I may be more honest still, I also thought of the silence in my own home. I am a rancher with more work than daylight and no one to share the evenings with. It may not be the highest compliment to say so plainly, but I find myself hoping for a wife — not for help with the chores or for the sake of appearances, but because a man’s heart is not meant to be as empty as these plains.

If you chose to write, I would count it as a kindness. If you chose to come, I would count it as an answer to a prayer. And if you could not, I would understand — but know that I hoped, and still hope, to see you.

Yours in sincerity,
Jonathan Langston

Clara to Jonathan

Mr. Langston,

Your letter found its way to me not long after the notice appeared, and I will admit I hesitated before opening it. The truth is, I did not place that notice myself. It was arranged by the family with whom I stay, with what they consider my best interests at heart. They are kind, but theirs is the sort of kindness that wishes me settled elsewhere — and soon.

To see my name there in print, as though I were a position to be filled or a matter to be dispatched, unsettled me more than I can say. But your letter — yours was different. You wrote as if I were a person and not a predicament.

I will not pretend I am fearless. The thought of leaving all I have ever known for the vast distances of Wyoming is daunting. And yet, is it not just as daunting to stay where one is never truly wanted? I find myself at a crossroads, and your words — awkward, honest, hopeful — felt more like a door than a demand.

I am trained to teach, and I do long for children to fill my days with more than polite silence. If, as you say, your town has need of a teacher, that would give me reason enough to come. But more than that, your candor gives me reason to believe that perhaps my life might yet hold a place where I am not simply endured but chosen.

I do not know if we would suit. I do not know if I will prove equal to the distance or the work. But I know I would rather risk the unknown than remain an afterthought. And so, I will write again, and if Providence continues to guide, I will consider coming.

With sincerity,
Clara Whitmore

These letters never appear in the novel itself — they’re my gift to those of you who asked for more. 💜

If they stirred your heart, you’ll find the rest of Jonathan and Clara’s journey waiting in Letters from Willow Creek.

You’ll also find a few surprises waiting just for subscribers.

And because you didn’t just ask for Jonathan’s words, but also Clara’s unspoken thoughts… the week after this, I’ll be sharing her quietest reflections. The things she never said out loud, but she thought.