Mail Order Roslyn

by Zina Abbott

  Before she knew it, Roslyn heard the whimpering noises Emmy made when she first started to wake up. Roslyn gulped down her last bite of stew as she headed for the dry sink where she placed her plate on top of the stack of dishes waiting to be scraped and washed. She grabbed the rest of her bread and turned toward the bedroom. As she passed her new boss, she smiled. “You should probably rest your limb, Caroline. I’ll be out to clean the kitchen as soon as I take care of the baby.”

  “No rush. I’ll keep the water hot, and we’ll wash everything when you return, including that baby’s clothes.”

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  Chapter 8

  ~o0o~

  E lam watched Isaac rise from his end of the bench and turn to the others.

  “You gents finish up and meet me outside. I’m going to take a gander at how things look out there, see if I need to put in an order for supplies the next time I see the division agent.” He shook his head. “No news, yet, of a new driver being hired for this stretch of the line.”

  The stock tenders had already put Isaac and him through a gauntlet of questions, but Elam suspected they were not finished with him.

  After Isaac left, the one introduced as Eustace turned to Elam.

  Elam waited patiently while the man studied his kepi and uniform coat that marked him as a veteran who had not bought new civilian clothes.

  “See you fought for the Union.”

  Detecting the Southern accent, Elam warily turned to him as, instinctively, he prepared his body and mind for a potential brawl. “I did. You fight for the South?”

  “Yep, I surely did.”

  Elam recognized the note of pride and determination in the man’s tone. He kept his own words and attitude neutral. “A lot of good men where I come from did, too.”

  “But not you. See you went in as a veteran private.”

  Elam shrugged. “After I done finished my first six months with a Kentucky volunteer cavalry company, I signed on again for three years. My older brother was working the farm. Figured my family could use the bounty money.”

  “You out there very long, or get your leg shot up early into the fighting?”

  Elam relaxed somewhat and leaned his spine against the wall of bricks cut from local sod. “I done fought quite a spell. You know how it was—the company got separated and after a passel of men got killed or took sick, I ended up with another company, and then a third. Little over a year ago, I was with regular Army under Wilson down in Alabama. That’s where some bullet done found my shin. Pretty much ended it for me.” Elam leaned forward once more and dared Eustace with a hard stare. “War’s over.”

  The stock tender named Tom spoke up. “You said your shin. That wooden leg of yours doesn’t bend. Looks like you lost your knee, too.”

  Elam sighed. He hated talking about what happened. However, it was best to satisfy their curiosity now and get it over with. “Didn’t lose my knee right off. They done took the leg off below the knee, but I was in a powerful bad way, fighting infection, and all. Once I got over almost dying, they fitted me with a peg leg. Worked right fine, at first. Leg got red and swelled up again, so I went back. The sawbones was mustering out by then but I found one. He took one look and said the gangrene done got me. Moved me up to the hospital in Leavenworth where they took my knee off to stop it.”

  Tom’s shoulders involuntarily shuddered, and he looked away. “Spooks me just hearing about it.”

  Elam shrugged. “At least they give me chloroform that time. Figured on spending Christmas there at Leavenworth, waiting to see if they got it all. Afore I knew it, they loaded me and a couple of others up in an ambulance and sent us on down to Fort Riley. They’re right proud of that hospital at Riley. They done got me fitted up with the leg, then cut me loose. Didn’t need no one-legged soldier, I reckon. Took part of my pay in this here Spencer and ammo, sent some home to Ma for the family, and made my way down to Junction City. Been picking up odd jobs there until I come here.” Elam roamed his gaze until he made eye contact with all four men. “Figure on us being done talking about this. I ain’t saying nothing else about my leg.”

  Another stock tender, Jim, leaned forward. “Wait. How are you planning to tend stock with that bum leg?”

  Elam leaned back. “I won’t be doing no running, that’s certain. Worked a livery before I come here, mucking out and caring for the horses. Repaired a passel of tack. There’re things I can do, even if my stump starts gets to giving me fits and I end up hobbling around on them crutches a spell. Isaac took me on mostly to help guard the place. That Spencer there…” Elam nodded toward his rifle. “I’m right good with it. He and I figure, while everyone’s sleeping, I’ll keep an eye out for trouble.”

  Jim and Tom glanced at each other before Jim turned back to him and nodded. “I can see the value in that.”

  “Sharpshooter, were you?” Eustace spoke again.

  Elam recognized the Southerner’s voice still held an edge. He closed his eyes and folded his arms as he wriggled his back against the wall in an attempt to get comfortable. “Nothing official, but reckon it worked out that way, at times. Done me a lot of skirmishing. That was then. Like I said, war’s over.”

  “I agree. War’s over. Any of you not have your fill of shooting or getting shot at, join me next time the stage runs. It’s not so bad from Salina east, but that open country from here to Spring Creek Station, especially, makes my skin crawl. I don’t think those hostiles have any intention of leaving the stage line in peace any time soon.”

  Upon hearing the voice of the messenger, Danny, Elam slowly cracked his eyes open. With two of them calling for an end to talk about the war that ended a year before, would Eustace take the hint?

  Silence reigned for several seconds.

  “I’ll allow, war’s over. Like you said, there’s enough trouble with the Cheyenne and the Arapaho around here, we don’t need to fight each other.”

  Once he heard the acceptance in Eustace’s voice, Elam felt like he passed a test. Now he felt at ease about discovering what he had to work with as far as protecting the station. “Isaac ain’t said much about what you got here for defense. Any you men got rifles or pistols with you?”

  Danny folded his arms. “I’ve got my coach gun, but I’m only here part of the time. When I’m working messenger, it comes with me—that and the other shotgun they keep in the front boot for the driver to use if worse comes to worse.”

  “How about you, Eustace? Still got what you carried in the war?”

  “Yankees took my musket when we surrendered. Didn’t get my five-shooter. Still have that plus a pocketful of cartridges. Isaac’s got several Sharps rifles and shotguns stashed around this place, and these boys all know how to shoot them. There’s only one Spencer, though. Since I’m the best shot, that one’s mine.”

  Elam let the unspoken challenge go. If they ended up facing a Cheyenne raiding party, being known as the best would not be as important as everyone being good enough. “Sharps are good rifles. Too bad they’re only single shot. At least they reload faster than them old muzzle-loaders we started the war with.”

  Eustace huffed. “That’s for certain. Unfortunately, we Southerners, unless we picked up some decent breech-loaders off some of you dead Yankees, ended the war with them.”

  Elam ignored the dead Yankee comment. “What about you other two? Either of you fight in the war?”

  Tom snorted. “Not me. I’m just now old enough for the Army to take me. Don’t have any wish for soldiering. Once they get their clutches on you, they own you, body and soul. Decided to take my chances with the B.O.D.. Figure, if I don’t like it, I can always walk away.”

  Jim shook his head. “Same here. Don’t have anywhere else to go, though, so I don’t look to walk away from this job.”

  Eustace grunted. “We’ll all be walking away when the train comes through. Due this far west next year or so. Until then, there’ll be no walking away in the middle of a
fight—any of you—or you might get a bullet in the back for desertion.”

  Jim and Tom both turned to Elam, who nodded. “That’s how it works.” Elam sat back and considered. “Could stand to have more firepower, but as long as there’s ammo for what we got, should be all right.”

  Eustace narrowed his eyes and glared at Elam. “We’ve been here for months and been doing fine. I don’t need an outsider coming in telling us our business. Besides, there’s a fort close by.”

  Expressionless, Elam studied Eustace. “From what I recollect hearing, the one time them Cheyenne struck over a year ago, not only did the Kansas Stage Line lose most of their mules, the soldiers here done lost most of their horses to the natives, too. Not trying to meddle none with what you got going. Just know what Isaac hired me for.”

  Eustace rose halfway off the bench. “What’re you saying he hired you on for? To come in here and act like some high-on-the-horse general, giving orders when it’s time to protect this station?”

  Elam shook his head. “Sounds like you done been put in charge of defending the station, Eustace.” He nodded in the direction of the door on the back wall. “Isaac hired me on to protect them women. I aim to do just that.”

  ~o0o~

  Grateful for the small stool in front of the table holding a bowl and ewer, Roslyn had left the door open a crack while she changed and nursed Emmy. As she listened to the trio of stock tenders and Danny, she shook her head. She turned her gaze on Caroline who, biting her lower lip, studied Roslyn’s reactions to what the men in the next room said.

  Roslyn swallowed and leaned her head against the wall. This place was not near as safe as she thought when she agreed to come. Then again, being forced into prostitution in order to provide for Emmy held its own dangers. In addition to getting beat up like she had already experienced, there were the rumors about diseases that followed the women who lived that life.

  As for Elam, in only a few minutes alone in the other room with the men, he had said more about his past than he had ever let on in the almost three days they had known each other. A man who had spent four of the past five years killing people ought to frighten her, yet she felt no fear around him. Annoyance, at times, reassurance at other times, and maybe something she could not yet identify, but not fear.

  Maybe it was a good thing for her and Emmy that Elam Stewart decided to ask Isaac for one of the jobs tending stock. How did the conversation get around to him also providing protection for the station? What did he mean when he said Isaac hired him to protect the women? Were they in that much danger?

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  Chapter 9

  ~o0o~

  May 3, 1866

  A fter just one evening of chatting with Caroline and listening to Isaac and the other men talk, Roslyn learned enough about the stagecoach business to know the Butterfield Overland Despatch ran three times per week. However, she was surprised when Isaac told her that, as soon as the stage arrived from the west, everyone was fed, and a fresh team was hitched up, he would kiss his wife goodbye and climb up into the driver’s box.

  Before the stagecoach arrived, and while they prepared the noon meal, Caroline explained it to her in more detail. “The company is supposed to have a driver that starts out just on the other side of Fort Riley. That’s where the leg from Atchison ends and this leg begins. Since they don’t have anyone, Isaac agreed to do it for a few weeks until they found a new driver, as long as Ed was willing to drive the Ellsworth to Big Creek Station leg. Those few weeks have turned into months. He’ll be back Saturday, have Sunday off, and then he leaves Monday again. The next Sunday, he’ll spend at the other end of the leg.”

  It sounded like a grueling schedule, especially when Isaac spent only every other Sunday with his wife. He still had the responsibility for the station, even though he was around only four days out of every two weeks.

  “Who takes care of everything day-to-day while he’s gone?”

  Caroline offered a sardonic harrumph. “I see everything runs smoothly in this part of station and everyday handling of the passengers. Isaac gives Eustace a little extra for managing the men and seeing the stock is taken care of.”

  Eustace. From the way he looks at me, plus what I’ve seen and heard, I would just as soon stay as far away from him as possible. Roslyn swallowed. “Your husband told you about Ross, didn’t he? I told him my plan last night. He agreed to allow Ross to work as a part-time stock tender. We decided on what I will do, and what I won’t do. Whether or not your husband is here, Eustace is not going to manage Ross.”

  Caroline pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow. “Isaac told me. I hope you know, even though he agreed, because he knows you need a means to earn a wage, he was not happy about it. He worries the arrangement will cause trouble with the men, especially Eustace.”

  As she sprinkled flour on a board to knead bread for the evening meal, Roslyn shook her head and groaned. “I’ve dealt with this almost all my life. If I enjoyed sitting around doing needlework, that would be acceptable. It’s a ‘womanly’ activity. I do sew my own clothes, but I don’t particularly enjoy it. I grew up in a livery, and I discovered at a young age that I have a strong affinity for animals—not just any animals, but big animals. Many people, my aunt and cousin included, consider me a freak because of that.” Roslyn clasped her hands beneath her chin to mimic her cousin’s indignant protest. “‘It’s not fitting.’” She began kneading. “Men can do any kind of work they want, but because I like working with horses, that is too ‘mannish’ an interest to be ladylike.”

  Caroline shook her head. “I know it doesn’t seem fair, but that is the way it often works. It’s one thing if a woman is doing these things with her husband…”

  “You mean, for her husband, to make him look good. Sort of like what you are doing by running this station while your husband has to be away.”

  “As she rolled out biscuit dough, Caroline looked down. “I don’t think of it like that. I feel like we are working together. We know the railroad is coming through Ellsworth, and there won’t be a need for this particular stagecoach station then. Perhaps that’s why Ben Holliday, the man who bought the line from Mr. Butterfield, is not putting much effort into hiring drivers for stations that will cease to exist in the next year or two. Unfortunately, with the extra work of driving the stagecoach, plus running a station, it puts a lot of strain on Isaac. I only hope, when it comes time to end this job, we’ll have a nice amount of money set aside to buy a small business somewhere.”

  “I’ll be lucky to get only two weeks to a month’s pay before Isaac’s boss finds out Ross is a woman.” And kicks me out on prejudice and male pride alone. “However, I also hope I’ll have a small amount of money to get started somewhere else.” Before she continued with what she wished to say, Roslyn waited until Caroline stopped and looked at her face. “I already would have had a nice amount of money to run a small business somewhere if the city banker in my home town had not conspired to force the sale of my father’s livery for a fraction of what it was worth so he could buy it. After I…after I was roughed up, my guardian gave in and sold it. He then was court-ordered to give most of the proceeds to my aunt, who lived two days’ travel away, to finish raising me. Can you believe that? I was nineteen. If I was married, I would have been considered an adult and allowed to make my own decisions. If I was sixteen and married, I would have been considered and adult. However, I was single and an orphan. Although I had a guardian, he let me pretty much run the livery by myself for almost a year. All of a sudden, with the sale of the livery, the local court decided I’m too much of a child to live on my own.”

  “This is after you were roughed up, as you put it?”

  “Yes. They wanted me out of town. I don’t have much good to say about my aunt. Once I moved in with her, her idea of finishing raising me was for me to work my hands raw doing her share of the washing in her laundry business. The money for my care is long gone wi
thout one penny having gone to my benefit.”

  “And you received nothing from the family business?”

  “Not from her. Before they took the livery from me. I sold some of our personal possessions, plus two horses, and hid the money. I’ve used almost all of it to provide for Emmy. If there was any other money my guardian still has control over, I won’t get it until I’m twenty-one.” Roslyn flipped the ball of dough over and dropped it, sending up a cloud of flour. “If there was anything else for me, I hope my guardian had enough sense to move it out of Wayland Morris’s bank.”

  “What about Emmy’s father?”

  “Let’s just say, that roughing up I received? That’s how I got Emmy.”

  “I’m sorry, Roslyn. I’m afraid it often happens that women get taken advantage of.” Her voice a whisper, Caroline again focused on cutting the biscuits. “I’m very fortunate to have found my Isaac.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you are.”

  “I hope you aren’t so disappointed you have given up the desire to marry and provide a good life for that little girl of yours.”

  Roslyn hesitated while she thought about it. Elam Stewart’s face immediately came to mind. Why him? He would not want me. “No, I haven’t given up. I loved being part of my family, even after Ma died but while Pa and my brother were still alive. I want that for Emmy.” As she continued to knead the bread, she paused and thought. “What I’ve realized recently is, it has to be with a man who loves us and can respect me for who I am, not someone who will insist I talk and act like the kind of woman everyone else in the world seems to think I should be. I almost got trapped in a bad situation with a man who had no respect for me and only intended to use me for his own ends.”

  “Yes, Isaac told me about that.”

  Roslyn’s shoulders shivered involuntarily. “I’d rather stay unmarried than end up in that kind of situation. As for me working as Ross, until I find the right person, I need to make my own way, even if not everyone agrees with how I go about it.”