Mail Order Bride

On a sunny afternoon in early May, a stagecoach rolled to a stop in a cloud of dust. The weathered driver whacked his Stetson on the side of his leg and coughed a smaller cloud out of his lungs.

“Alright, folks, here we are! Laramie, Wyoming.” He flicked open his brass pocket watch. “Fifth of May, 2:05pm; right on schedule. Won’t find a timelier watch. Or a stagecoach, for that matter.” He said proudly. He snapped the watch shut and nodded his approval of the whole matter. “Billy, unload the baggage for these folks ’fore they die of old age!”

The younger man sitting shotgun had already climbed atop of the dust-coated red coach and began tossing various packages down to the small crowd which had gathered in front of the larger of the town’s two hotels. The driver clambered down from his seat and opened the door of the coach. His disheveled passengers stumbled out one after the other.

The first was a lanky man whose pallor suggested he spent a great deal more time indoors than out. He was approximately in his mid-thirties, with a valise tucked under his left arm. He was a rather excitable fellow who maintained a constant dialogue with himself.

“…the bumpiest ride. I feel as though my very soul could have been jostled loose had I sat there a moment longer! Oh, that is good. My editor will love that when I get back. If I get back. Dear Heavens, what a wild trip.” He had no one expecting him and headed straight through the door of the hotel after inspecting the block letter sign in the window. “Meals included! How hospitable! Better take full advantage.”

Another man stepped out of the coach and offered a hand to his wife, a young woman in a blue sprigged calico dress. She had two young children that jumped down behind her and, from the looks of her belly, a third on the way. An older couple rushed forward from between piles of luggage and pulled the little family into a welcome embrace.

“Oh, my dears, I thought you’d never make it! And you brought the grandchildren!” The older woman exclaimed.

A few more passengers emerged to tearful reunions with family. No one saw the last passenger step out except the stagecoach driver, who watched her quietly stand in front of the hotel by one of the support columns underneath its fancy white balcony. He absently wondered what she was doing traveling by herself. He helped Billy with the last of the luggage. She was still there when the crowd dwindled away, and still there when he’d finished taking the orders inside for the hotel and the next-door general store. Her eyes only left the ground to occasionally dart up and down the street. She wore a plain gray dress; the hem stained six inches deep with grime. Her jacket was a drab brown, and she clutched it around herself, along with a large purse in her arms. At one point, her brown hair had been tightly wound into a bun, but the rough travel had bounced it into a loose mess on top of her head.

The driver approached her. “Ma’am?”

She snapped around.

“I didn’t mean to startle ya. Are ya waitin’ fer someone?”

He felt her guarded look take in everything about him as she took one small step back. Her eyes held dark circles under them, like she hadn’t seen a proper night’s rest in weeks. He might have thought she was afraid if it weren’t for the firm set of her jaw. There was an almost cornered expression there…yes, that was it. Like she wanted to run but had nowhere to go. She reminded him of a beaten puppy.

“Is someone meeting you here?” He asked in a kinder tone.

When she finally spoke, her voice came out hoarse. “Have you heard of a Samuel Harris, by chance? He paid for my passage here.”

“Heard of him?! Everyone around here has heard of Sam Harris…” The driver stopped. “I’m Charles, Charles Hancock. Aahh, I don’t think Sam is gonna be in town today. He usually doesn’t make the trip into town on Saturdays.” She was already sober, but the news somehow made her look sadder than before. Charles winced. “The hotel is right here, they’ll put you up for the night.”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t have any money.”

“Surely Sam would cover it for ya tomorrow. Well, I mean, you’re his mail-order bride, right?”

The title stung, but that’s what she was. She nodded and looked away. “I don’t want to be a burden…surely he’ll come…” She trailed off, looking up and down the street again. “I can wait here. The weather is fine.”

Charles frowned, deepening the lines the weather had carved into his leathery face over the years. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for a pretty young lady like yourself to be waiting alone.” He suddenly wondered why he’d called her pretty and took a closer look. Yes, he decided, she would be pretty with a little perking up. The bright green of her eyes was dulled by dark, sleepless rings underneath. There was no color to her thin cheeks, but a dose of sunshine and a few good meals would highlight her fine features.

He spoke again. “Jim runs the general store right over here. He won’t mind you sittin’ in there ta wait.”

Another glance over the street. “Okay.”

Charles motioned with his chin towards the store. “Oh, where’s your bags? I’ll carry ’em for ya.”

“I don’t have any,” came the reply.

He heard her light steps behind him as she followed him down to Jim’s Goods and shook his head to himself.

The bright little bell over the door of the shop announced their arrival. A middle-aged man stood behind a bold green counter that was lined with jars of hard candy. He looked up from his pad of paper.

“Chuck! Back so soon? Who’s this?” He asked, pointing with his pencil at the young woman.

“This is…” Charles hesitated. “Guess I never did ask your name, miss.”

She looked up. “Emmaline.”

Jim smiled. “Pleased ta meet ya!”

She nodded curtly.

“Jim, you care if she waits in here for a bit?”

“Not at all!” He exclaimed. “Set yourself down right there on that bench, just move those cans out of your way. I’m in the middle of sorting through a shipment.”

She took the cans off the bench one at a time and gently set them on the floor.

The stagecoach driver leaned over the counter and lowered his voice. “You’re not gonna believe this. She’s Sam’s latest mail-order.” He glanced back, but she was busy looking at the stocked shelves.

Jim gave him his full attention. “You’re kiddin’ me. What’s that, three now?”

“She’ll be the fourth. I felt bad not offerin’ ta drive her out there, but you know how he is on Saturdays. Drunker than a skunk at high noon.”

“Not to mention, the longer it takes her ta meet him, the better.” He looked over at Emmaline again. “Gosh, Chuck. Someone’s gotta put a stop to him!”

Charles put his hands on the counter and sighed. “Yeah, someone with money and no family to worry about.”

Jim echoed his sigh. “Ya couldn’t say it any better than that. What a shame. She might be a bit pale, but she’s young and pretty; can’t be older than 20.”

“Too young for him.”

“Yeah, a shame to see her…well, best not to dwell on it too much, I guess.”

“Thanks for watchin’ her, Jim.”

“Yeah, Chuck, see ya around.”

A quarter of an hour passed. Emmaline sat and watched the shop owner move around the store taking notes on various crates and opening their nailed lids with a crowbar. When he started placing the new stock on the shelves, she carefully set down her purse and stood up.

“May I help you?” She asked.

“If you’d like that better than sitting!” Jim said.

“I would.” She said.

“Well, let’s see. That crate should have some different candies inside; you can put those in the jars on the counter. Those nails will go over there with the hand tools along the side. Start with that.” She seemed smart enough. Didn’t strike him as the stealing type, either.

Another hour passed quickly while they put everything away and organized and straightened the shelves. She didn’t talk, except to ask an occasional question pertaining to how he wanted something put away. She was educated, that much he could tell. He decided he liked her, even if she was too quiet.

“Emmaline, you’ve been a wonderful help today.” He said finally.

The first hint of a smile turned up the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you! Take some licorice, or whatever you like, for your help.”

The smile disappeared. “I don’t need anything. Thank you, though.” She sat once more on the bench along the wall. He studied her under the guise of dusting a few shelves. She wasn’t shy. Just flinchy. Some sleep wouldn’t hurt, either. She looked beat.

The bell over the door jingled. Emmaline looked up and followed a tall, muscular man with her eyes. He walked with purpose, looking straight ahead, and wore a blued pistol on his right hip. Was this Samuel? She felt herself tensing up. She’d tried her best not to eavesdrop but couldn’t help overhearing some of the earlier conversation about him drinking. This man certainly wasn’t drunk and he carried himself fearlessly.

“Well, Jesse Caudell, haven’t seen you in a coon’s age! How’ve ya been?” Jim greeted him.

“Hey, Jim, I’m alright. Need some new shears. I broke mine the other day.” He stopped at the counter and looped his thumbs in the pockets of his worn blue jeans.

“Those sheep wearin’ ya out yet?” Jim asked.

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, they’re good company for me right now. Lord knows I need it.”

Jim nodded. “Animals have a healing way about ’em, sure enough, though people are good company too. I heard the Anderson’s daughter turned 20 last week.” He mentioned innocently.

Jesse crossed his arms. Why did people always feel the need to say things like that? “And I heard she looks like Rachel’s sister, Leah, with the personality of a dead heifer.” He remarked testily.

Jim changed the subject back to shears. “Got two different kinds here. These are $1, and these are $1.25.” He handed them over the counter.

Jesse picked them up and squeezed them each a couple times in turn. He held up the costlier of the two. “These slide nicer. You can stick ’em on Sam’s account here. He owes me. And grab me a couple hundred rounds of .44 for my Winchester and a couple hundred .45’s for my Colt.”

Jim looked away awkwardly. “I uh, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Jesse demanded. “He’s owed me money for close to a year and keeps blowin’ me off. Last time I showed up at his place, a couple of his men gave me this!” He pointed to a new, small scar on his chin.

“You went to his house?” Jim asked in disbelief.

“I’m not scared of him. But since he won’t pay me what he owes me, we’re gonna do it this way instead.”

“Here’s the problem, Jesse, he paid off his line of credit here. Said he didn’t want people doin’ things like this. I’ve got a wife and kids…” He looked apologetic.

“When did he do that?! After I told him I was done waiting for my money?” Jesse pushed up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

Jim shook his head. “Wouldn’t be surprised. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jesse said angrily. “It’s not you that’s tryin’ ta dry up every farmer and rancher in the area and meddlin’ with everyone’s finances. Not to mention what he does in his personal life, that son of a…”

Jim raised his forehead in warning and tilted his head toward Emmaline sitting in the corner.

Jesse winced. “’Scuse me ma’am, I didn’t see ya there.” He turned back to the shop keeper. “Who’s that?”

“You’re not gonna like it…”

“Who is she?”

“Came in on the stage today. Says Sam Harris paid for her trip.”

Jesse turned to look at her again and caught her gaze. She quickly turned back to studying the floor. Unconsciously, his voice grew louder. “You’re tellin’ me that Harris paid the fare…where ya from, miss?”

Emmaline flinched in her seat. “St. Louis.”

“All the way from St. Louis, for his fourth wife, but he can’t pay me the $310 he owes me from the work I did last year?” Color was working its way up his neck. Jesse tugged at his shirt collar.

“Jesse, I know you’re riled up. Nearly everyone’s got some sort o’ bone to pick with the man…”

Jesse didn’t let him finish. He didn’t need someone to tell him to calm down; he was way past that. “I’ll take the shears and the ammo anyway. How much do I owe ya?”

“Are ya sure you want that much ammo? I’d hate ta see ya do anything rash…there’s a reason folks don’t do much about him.”

Jesse let out a cold laugh. “I lost the only thing he could have used against me. There’s nothin’ left I couldn’t live without.” He looked back at Emmaline. “What’s yer name?”

“Emmaline.” She said.

“Emmaline, you know much about your future husband?” He asked.

“No.”

“You want to know why you’re here? Because the first three wives he sent for were all murdered. But nobody can prove a da- a darn thing and they won’t try to because they know he’ll come after their families and their homes ‘cause he’s got the money and resources to do it. I’m tired of it. Sick and tired. Life’s hard enough without people meddlin’ in other peoples’ business.”

Jim came back with the ammunition before she could respond. “That’ll be $8.”

Jesse counted out the cash and picked up the small crate of ammo with the shears on top. “Jim, how much does a ticket to St. Louis cost?”

“’Bout $300, why?” Jim understood too late. “Wait…”

“Get up.” Jesse turned to the girl in the corner. “Get up, you’re coming with me.”

“Jesse, hold on, and think about…”

“I’m done waiting and thinking.”

They both walked toward Emmaline, who was pressed as far back against the corner as she could get, searching wildly for an escape route. Jesse shifted the crate to his left arm and drew his revolver.

“Remember, Jim? You have a wife and kids.” He said dryly. He motioned with his gun to Emmaline and she walked over to him looking like the devil himself had ordered her. “Tell Harris he doesn’t owe me money unless he wants to come pay me for this bride of his.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble…” Emmaline started.

“The only person he’s gonna be angry with is me, and I don’t care one whit! Now grab your things and walk out the door.”

“I don’t have anything except my purse.” She said.

“Makes it easy then. My wagon’s parked out front.” He nudged her toward the door, and she walked faster. “Jim, it’s nothin’ personal. Don’t go spreadin’ this around. Have a nice day.” Once they were out of the store, Jesse holstered his gun and gently set the crate of ammunition in the bed of his wagon. He walked Emmaline around to the passenger side and offered her a hand, but she just scrambled up as quickly as she could and sat there like a rather frightened statue. “Suit yourself.” He said and walked around to his side. He seated himself next to her and slapped the reins over his team. “Git up, ponies. We’ve got a ways to go.”

For half an hour, they rode in silence, listening to the steady beat of the horses’ hooves and the creak of the wagon over the red dirt roads. Emmaline sat poker stiff, afraid to move while Jesse guided the horses home with a practiced hand. What was he going to do to her? She never took her eyes completely off him, but he seemed to have forgotten she was even there. Once they’d left town, he had settled into the rhythm of driving and the anger had left his eyes. Emmaline found herself in awe of the scenery. They were riding west, towards the mountains, with vast, rolling expanses of grasslands and clusters of stunted pines all around. Travel by wagon was much nicer than the stagecoach. Less dust, less bumps, and she could see for miles and miles around instead of being crunched in between smelly fellow passengers. They came to a crossroads, and the horses decided they wanted to go left instead of straight.

“Hey, girls, we’re goin’ home, not down to Fort Collins!” The wagon jostled as he directed the horses back on course and Jesse’s hand brushed Emmaline’s knee. She pulled away like he’d touched her with a hot poker.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook ya. You’re not much of a talker, are you?” When she just shook her head, he shrugged. “It’s fine. Neither am I. You wouldn’t know it from that outburst back at the store. Didn’t mean for you ta get caught up in it all.” He apologized. She didn’t look comforted. “That Sam Harris, he’s ugly as sin, and meaner’n the devil. Might not seem like it now, but you’re a whole lot better off right now than ya would be if he’d a picked you up.”

“I heard Jim and Charles say he drinks on Saturdays.” Emmaline said. She didn’t really know what else to say.

“Yeah. Then he shows up all perky on Sunday mornings like he’s John the Baptist. You go ta church?”

“Yes.” She said. “Do you?” She dared to ask.

“Sometimes. Used ta go every Sunday. Now too many people try meddling in my business.” He frowned.

“Sorry.” She said.

He looked over at her. “I didn’t mean you, silly. You’re awful jumpy. What’d they do, beat ya? I don’t bite.”

“Okay.” She said, but she kept twisting the corner of her jacket in her fingers.

Another ten minutes passed in silence. Jesse watched her in the corner of his eye. She had finally taken her eyes off him and was looking at the mountains. She was so tense, and yet, she looked exhausted. Anyone would be after traveling two weeks by stagecoach. Her eyes began to close, her head drooped, and she jerked herself awake. It happened two more times. He’d better try and keep her awake, he realized. Who knew how she’d react if he tried to catch her?

“Ya like sheep?” It was a stupid question, he thought, but a safe one.

“Sheep?” She asked. “That’s right, you bought shears.”

She didn’t miss a thing. “Yeah, I’ve got a herd of ’em.” He said.

“I like sheep.” She said. She seemed to realize he was keeping her awake. “How many do you have?”

“Close to five thousand Cotswold sheep now.” He said.

“Five thousand sheep?” She asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Not very many compared ta some of the bigger ranches, but I’m just gettin’ started.”

They relapsed into silence and Jesse went back to thinking about Samuel Harris. He had just poked the hornet’s nest, that was for certain. Three hundred dollars was no small sum. By tomorrow afternoon, he would know what he was in for. Tomorrow…guess she’d have to stay somewhere for the night. Probably needed a bath after such a long, dusty trip. The wind shifted direction. Scratch that, she definitely needed a bath.

“Hey, ya see that little cabin at the base of the mountain?” He asked.

“Emmaline shielded her eyes against the sun. “I think so.”

“That’s my place!” The note of pride in his voice was unmistakable.

“You built it?” She asked.

“I did.” For Molly. He looked down at his calloused hands. Every beam had gone up in anticipation of bringing home his sweetheart; it hadn’t been work at all. And now she was gone. The last few miles were silent ones. They drove up to a sturdy gray log cabin nestled on the edge of the woods leading up to the base of the mountains. A barn and corral stood nearby. Out in the fields, several large flocks of white sheep grazed peacefully. A few horses ran up to the fence to greet the wagon.

“Here we are. Home, sweet home.” Jesse said. He stepped down and walked around to help Emmaline down. He offered her his hand and she took it hesitantly. Her hand was cold, but her grip was firm. She climbed down and stood looking about her.

“It’s beautiful here.” She said, staring up at the mountains.

Jesse grabbed the crate in the back of the wagon. He was strangely happy that she liked it, but he said, “The outside is a whole lot nicer than the inside. Come on.” She followed him to the door. He lifted the latch and walked inside. “You comin’?” Emmaline took one more long look around and slipped through the doorway.

She was surprised by the amount of light inside. Two real glass windows sat in the western and southern walls, illuminating the small kitchen table in the center of the room. To the left, a fireplace sat empty next to a kitchen sink and a row of cabinets. A woodstove stood against the back, where a door on either side led to two small rooms.

“The one on the left is where you’ll sleep.” Jesse said. “I’ll move a pallet into the other room so you can have the bed.”

“I’ll be fine with the pallet.” She said. “I don’t want to take your room.”

“Nonsense. It’s only for a night. I don’t mind.” Jesse cracked the door open and looked around. “It’s safe. I wanted to be sure I didn’t leave it a mess!” He said sheepishly.

Emmaline stayed where she was. “Thank you.”

“Oh, here, let me take your coat.” He held out his hand, but she shook her head.

“It’s fine, I’ll keep it on.” She said.

“It’s pretty warm in here. I’ll just hang it on the coat rack by the door. What am I gonna do, steal it?” He chuckled.

Emmaline finally set down her purse on the table and slowly took off her jacket. She handed it to him from as far away as possible, but Jesse still saw. He took hold of her wrist before she could draw it back.

She couldn’t stop herself from trying to pull away. “Let go!”

Jesse stared at the fading bruises all over her arms. “I was jokin’ before, when I asked if they beat ya.” He let her go, concern written all over his face. “Emmaline…”

Emmaline held her arms behind her back. “It’s nothing. The stagecoach was bumpy, that’s all.”

“Well, I know it takes ’bout two weeks from here ta St. Louis. Those bruises are a bit older than that. You’re a terrible liar.” She just stared at him. “Are ya hungry?”

The mere mention of food made her stomach growl. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Two days ago.”

That explained the hollows in her cheeks. “Slept?”

She looked everywhere but at him. She shrugged. “I sleep an hour at a time.”

Jesse let out a deep breath. “Ok, Emmaline, listen ta me. Yer gonna go out back and take a shower while I fetch ya some food. I’ve got clean clothes in a chest I’ll pull out for ya and then yer gonna eat an’ go to bed.” He walked into the room on the right. Emmaline could hear him open a large wooden chest. He came back with a handful of clothing.

“Follow me.”

She followed him around to the back of the cabin, not knowing what else to do. There was a little building next to the outhouse, built into the side of a steep hill. On top was a large metal tank painted black.

“Ya see that tank up there? I rigged it so if I turn a valve, the stream from the mountain fills it up through a pipe. When it’s full I shut ’er off and the sun heats up the water. Now, once ya get in there, ya just turn a knob on the spigot inside and warm water comes out the top. There’s a clean washcloth and soap and a towel in there. Door locks from the inside.” He handed her the clothing.

“Thank you.” She said. She didn’t go inside until he left.

Jesse unhitched the team from the wagon and let them loose with the other horses. He grabbed some eggs from the barn. When Emmaline walked in the cabin door twenty minutes later, he had pancakes and eggs ready on the table. “Ya smell better!” He said.

“I feel better.” She said.

“Well go ’head, eat.” He pulled out the chair closest to her.

She sat down and he sat across from her. “Lord, bless this food. Amen.” He said.

Emmaline barely allowed herself to grab a fork before eating. Her last meal had been more than two days ago, when the food she’d packed for the trip had run out. Her throat spasmed, trying to swallow everything as fast as it could. She took a drink of water from the mug in front of her and that helped. She did her best to eat slowly, but the food still disappeared before her eyes. As soon as she’d finished eating, her eyelids began to droop. She was so warm and clean, and the hunger pangs were gone… She jerked awake before her head touched the table.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, but she began to fall again.

Jesse set down his fork and walked around the table. “Come here, let’s get ya to bed.” He helped her up and opened the door to the bedroom. “You lay down an’ don’t get up ’til tomorrow!”

She didn’t respond; she was already asleep on the bed. Jesse slipped off her shoes and pulled the quilt over her. Her breaths were deep and even in a dreamless state of exhaustion. Jesse shut the door behind him and walked outside.

“What did I get myself into?” He wondered aloud. How could he turn her over to Sam in good conscience? That wasn’t his call to make; she wasn’t even supposed to be at his house. He had only taken her to use as leverage for his wages. What would he do with her, anyway? Send her back home? Keep her as a maid? He laughed. As if people didn’t talk enough already…the gossip would never end. She needed a safe home with people to talk to, and that was not here! He shook his head as if to rid himself of the whole matter and headed out to the field. He had sheep to tend.

When Jesse returned to the house at sunset, Emmaline was still in the same place he’d left her. He lit a lamp and cooked himself a small supper as quietly as he could. He glanced at the bedroom door. Still closed. It was getting cold now that the sun was down. He pumped some water into the sink to let the pan soak, then opened the doors to the woodstove. He raked the coals forward and put the last three pieces of wood from the wood ring on top. The dry wood caught fire quickly. By the time he’d cleaned up the dishes and taken some blankets into the other room, the fire was crackling softly in the stove. Jesse put his hands out to feel the heat and sighed contentedly. His gaze fell on the empty wood ring. Better get more now rather than in the morning. He shrugged on a jacket and stepped out into the crisp night air.

The Milky Way shone brightly over the mountains and the waxing moon lit his way to the woodpile. He grabbed as many pieces as he could fit into his arms and trudged back to the house. He opened the latch with one hand, precariously balancing the pile of wood in the other. He shut the door behind him, but the top piece of wood fell to the floor with a loud thud. Jesse carefully set the rest of the wood in the ring, hoping he hadn’t woken Emmaline. The bedroom door opened; Emmaline stood there wrapped in a blanket.

“Sorry, I dropped a piece of wood coming in!” Jesse apologized.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily. “I needed to wake up. I slept too long.”

“Nah, go back to bed.” Jesse turned the knobs on the stove.

“What are those for?” Emmaline asked. “We had a coal burner at home.”

“You never used a wood stove?” Jesse asked incredulously. She shook her head no. “These knobs on the doors let in air so the fire can burn. When it gets hot enough, then ya turn the knobs so hardly any air gets in. That way the fire lasts all night rather than burnin’ through yer wood in an hour.”

“I learn something new every day.” She yawned and stepped towards the warmth of the stove.

“Go back ta bed, Emmaline.” Jesse urged. “I’m goin’ ta sleep too.”

“Okay.” She said sleepily. “Goodnight, Jesse.”

“Night.”

Welcome to my side project. I hope you like it! No guarantees on the timeliness of chapter updates, but I will finish all of my books eventually. Likes, comments, and reviews are appreciated! Go check out my main work, Bound North, as well. :D Happy reading.