Tattered Hearts
Mail Order Brides of Spring Water Book One
Kathleen Ball
I dedicate this book to the people who help me on a daily basis to get my book out for you to read; Bruce Ball, Steve Ball, and Manda Gongora. I also dedicate this book to the most amazing and strong woman I know, Heather Crispin.
And as always this book is for Bruce, Steven, Colt, Clara, Emery and Mavis because I love them.
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
The End
Cinder’s Bride
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About the Author
Other Books by Kathleen
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Chapter One
Georgie O’Rourke sprinted across the uneven ground, snatched up three-year-old Davey Polk into her arms, and pulled him out of the way of the next wagon in line, saving him from being trampled by the powerful horses’ hooves. They fell with a hard thump on the ground, and luckily, Davey landed on top. She looked up, seeking his parents, and discovered the Polk’s hadn’t even noticed that little Davey was missing.
“Ho! Halt!” yelled one of the guides on horseback. He reined in then jumped down from his black quarter horse and raced toward the pair.
Struggling to comfort a wailing Davey, Georgie was relieved to see Victor headed their way. He was the nicest of the guides, and he never treated her as anything other than a lady.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he knelt down on one knee next to her. His tan hat shaded his lapis blue eyes, but she figured they would reflect the concern in his voice.
“Can you hold Davey so I can get up?” she asked. She handed the crying toddler to Victor in relief. Her whole body trembled thinking of what might have happened. It had been a near thing.
The gray-haired, black-eyed wagon master Mr. Wilde galloped to them and scowled when he saw the reason for his train stopping. “Fell out again did he?” He shook his head in disgust. He reached out and took the boy from Victor. “I’ll be the one to return this youngster to his parents this time.” He rode off with Davey screaming at the top of his lungs.
Victor took off his brown hat and ran his fingers through his wavy dark hair. He replaced his hat and held his hand out to her. She grabbed it and winced as she stood.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine I think I scraped my knee is all. We need to press on.” Georgie clasped her hands together to try to stop them from shaking. It had been a close one and she thought for sure they’d both be trampled by the horses.
“I’ll walk you to your wagon.” He escorted her back three wagons and explained to the Wilsons what had happened. They immediately took her inside to check her out.
All the attention embarrassed Georgie. She didn’t want to be a bother to the Wilsons. They were kind enough to allow her to travel to Texas with them in exchange for her help with the chores. It was a great deal as far as she was concerned.
Her home state of Tennessee had been ravaged by the Civil War. Her family was gone, and her house had been destroyed. With almost no resources, she had answered an ad in the local paper to become a mail order bride. After the first letter, the gentleman had proposed. She sent off her acceptance and asked him to send any letters to Little Rock. It was the biggest town they’d be going through, and she hoped that letters would reach it.
Happily, she’d received two more letters and was able to write him back. Parker Eastman was his name. He’d been a Confederate officer and now he ran the family ranch. He was a romantic man with the manners of a Southern gentleman. She hadn’t recognized his last name but he knew of the O’Rourkes of Tennessee. It was a well-known name that had carried a lot of weight in the now war-torn state.
It was her name that she brought to the marriage. No dowry, few clothes, and no money. She’d been up front about it from the first letter. It didn’t matter, he’d written. She was half in love with him already, and she hadn’t even met him.
“It doesn’t look bad. It’s a scrape just like you thought,” Mrs. Wilson said. “I’ll clean it. I can’t imagine being so brave as to jump in front of a wagon like that. The Polks need to come and thank you for what you did for their Davey. My word, they don’t look after that child.”
Georgie shrugged. “I’m just glad I was there to help. It’s hard to believe we’re almost at the end of the Southwest Trail. I heard we’ve actually been in Texas most of the day.”
“Have we really?” Mrs. Wilson smiled. “That’s great news. I can’t wait to meet your intended. I know you’re nervous, but from his letters he sounds like a good man. I’m so glad for you. Mr. Wilson and I didn’t lose as much as you in the war, and starting over is going to be hard but you’ll have a husband to help you.”
Georgie’s stomach churned. “Yes, I’m fortunate indeed.” She hoped beyond hope everything worked out. There was no going back not that there was anything to go back to. “I’m going to walk some more. I get too antsy if I ride too long.”
“Be careful.”
Georgie nodded as she jumped skillfully from the back of the wagon. Walking was also good for thinking. She usually walked alone. There were other females her age but, they were filled with silly dreams of Texas and how wonderful their lives would be. But they still had parents to shield them from the harshest of realities and they still had a certain innocence about them that she couldn’t stand to be around.
Texas was a harsh land, she’d heard. Only the strongest survived, and though she was stronger than most, she knew she wouldn’t have things easy. But she’d seen and endured more than she should have already. Now she was both afraid and grateful for the next chapter of her life to start.
They stopped a bit early that day. Mr. Wilde wanted to have a meeting about safety and responsibility. Georgie ended up embarrassed by all the attention paid to her while the Polks actually seemed contrite. Still, they never thanked her. But she hadn’t done it for them, so it didn’t matter.
As soon as the meeting broke up, she gathered wood for a fire and started making biscuits. It was windy, and she ended up with flour all over her clothing, as well as in her hair and on her face. She’d wait until she was done cooking, though, before she bothered to clean up.
* * *
Parker Eastman had been watching for the wagon train for more than a week. His patience had run its course by the time he spotted it. Hopefully, this one had his mother’s friend Georgia on it. His mother had been so insistent that he be the one to collect her. He had more than enough to do on the ranch but that didn’t matter. His mother could be a tyrant at times. Perhaps her friend Georgia O’Rourke of the Tennessee O’Rourkes would soften her disposition.
It had been a tough two years since he’d come home from the war. Swallowing defeat was hard enough, but losing both his brother and father made it almost too much to bear. He had to tamp down his pride almost daily as the Union Soldiers insulted the people of Texas. They were the victors, and they never let anyone forget it.
He was just grateful he still had a home to come home to. Many of th
e homes and ranches had been taken over by soldiers. His was too far from town for them to bother with but they sure knew how to get to his place come tax time.
The train stopped, and Parker drove his team toward the group of wagons. He was heartily greeted by the wagon master, a Mr. Wilde.
“Sure is good to be back on Texas soil again,” Mr. Wilde said as he shook Parker’s hand and then slapped him on the back.
“It’s not all roses here either. It’s about the same all over the south. I’m looking for a Georgia O’Rourke.”
The wagon master smiled and nodded. “Quite a girl you have there. Georgie is always willing to pitch in. She saved a little boy today. Brave she was, running and grabbing him up right before the horses trampled him. They were both lucky. I admire her spirit considering what she’s been through. Those Union Soldiers were brutal, and then the Confederates came right behind them and ravaged what was left.” He glanced back at the group of wagons. “Well, I didn’t mean to talk your ear off. She’s right over there at the Wilson wagon.”
Parker stared at the woman Mr. Wilde pointed to. Georgie? Certainly she wouldn’t have such a nickname.
Why she was nothing but a ragamuffin. Her hair stuck out everywhere, her dress looked to be ready for the ragbag, and she was covered in flour. She glanced up and he was captured by the blueness of her eyes. They were a steel blue and for some reason it made him think she was full of determination. This had to be the wrong woman.
He walked to her as she was bent over the fire and stayed to one side until she stood back up.
“Could you be kind enough to direct me to Miss. O’Rourke?”
A frown drew lines across her forehead. She appeared flustered as she peered at him. She tried to pat down her hair as though seeking to make herself presentable, but she only made it worse. “Who would be asking?”
“I’m Captain Eastman. I’ve come to collect one Georgia O’Rourke from Tennessee.”
He observed as she swallowed hard. “That would be me. It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance, Captain.”
Trying his best not to look as dismayed as he felt, he tipped his gray hat to her. “My mother speaks very highly of you, Miss.”
“Miss? Surely it’s proper for us to be on a first name basis?” Her smile was enchanting but it was hard to get past her appearance.
“Are you ready to go? I need to get back to the ranch as soon as I can. I have more work than I can handle.”
Her brow furrowed. “We’re leaving without getting married first? You insisted on it in your letters. I thought it would be tomorrow.” She dusted at her clothing. “I don’t usually have flour all over me.”
He narrowed his eyes on the little fortune hunter. “I’m sorry, but there is some mistake. I was sent here to collect you on my mother’s behalf. There is certainly no marriage involved.”
She paled and her hands shook. “But your letters—”
“Madam, I have never written you or any woman a letter. I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t intend to participate. Good day.” He turned on his heel and strode away. The nerve of some people. Marriage indeed, that’ll be the day. She’d have to pull off some miracle to be considered marriageable.
“Where are you going?” Mr. Wilde asked. “You promised your hand in marriage and by golly you’re going to keep your word!”
Parker took a step back. “I honestly have no idea what you or Miss O’Rourke are talking about. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know most of the scams people are trying to pull. The marriage scam is well known. I work too hard to allow a woman to try to marry me so she can steal my money. You’ll have to find someone else. I’m heading back toward Fort Worth. Good day.”
“Wait, Mr. Eastman,” Wilde called out. “I just recalled I have a letter for you from your mother. I wasn’t sure why she sent it to me to keep for you, but maybe I know now.” The wagon master hurried to his wagon and came back with a sealed letter addressed to Parker.
The envelope was cool against his palm as he stared at it, and frowned. It was his mother’s handwriting, all right. He didn’t want to open it; he didn’t want to know what she’d cooked up this time. Clenching his jaw, he tore it open anyway, read it, and swore. Lowering the sheet of paper, he stared at Mr. Wilde and then at Miss O’Rourke. This had to be some type of joke. His mother knew he had a strong sense of honor and it seemed that she pledged his hand to Georgia O’Rourke. Ruined his life was what she’d done.
He nodded to Mr. Wilde. “I suppose you’re allowed to marry people?”
A grin slid over the wagon master’s face and he called out, “Folks, we’re having a wedding now!”
Flummoxed, that was the perfect word. Parker was flummoxed, and he was going to kill his meddling mother. He tried to smile, but the best he could do was not frown. Why? Why had she done it? There were plenty of single and widowed women in Texas. It must be the O’Rourke name. Sometimes his mother could be such a snob.
His intended exited her wagon and although she was clean, she still wore rags. He smothered a sigh. Clean rags.
“Got yourself a pretty mail order bride, you did,” Mr. Wilde commented.
Parker raised his brow. “Mail order? Are you sure?”
The other man’s eyes grew wide. “You didn’t know anything about this did you, son? The deed isn’t done. You could explain to her… I don’t know where’d she go or what she’d do, but it’s not your fault.”
He momentarily considered leaving, but duty and honor had been drilled into him since he was a boy. He’d marry the urchin. His mother could not have known his intended wore tattered dresses. She’d be good company for his mother, he supposed. He wasn’t at the house much anyway.
“Let’s get this done so we can leave.”
“Georgie! You stand right here. We’ll have the Wilsons stand up with you.”
Through the whole ceremony, all Parker could think of was all the refined women he’d known. He could hardly look at Georgia. He’d have to grow used to her.
“What? I’m sorry I forgot the ring.”
“It’s fine,” Georgia said.
He expected her to be disappointed, but she wasn’t. Most females he knew would have pouted.
At the end of the ceremony, he was supposed to kiss her, but she still had flour on her forehead. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. He was glad of the shy smile she gave him.
“We might as well put your things in my wagon.”
“That will be fine. I don’t have much.” She led him to the Wilsons’ wagon and reached in. She pulled out a simple carpetbag and handed it to him.
“Is this all?” He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but by the shade of red her face turned, he had done just that. Another sigh slipped out. “Say your goodbyes. I’ll be at the wagon. We need to make tracks while it’s still daylight.”
Georgie nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
He felt the heat of her gaze the whole walk to his wagon.
* * *
Tears formed in her eyes as she tightly hugged the Wilsons. They’d been more than kind to her. Mr. Wilde gave her a fatherly hug, and she started to walk away.
“Wait!” cried a shrill voice.
She turned to find Davey running toward her.
She crouched and gave him a big hug. “You take care now, you hear? I’ll miss you something awful.” She let go, turned him in the direction of his parents. “Goodbye.”
Tears trailed down her face as she walked to her new husband’s wagon. He hadn’t wanted her. He hadn’t proposed to her. He hadn’t even known about her. The situation couldn’t be worse. She took a deep breath as her confidence plummeted. Circumstances could and had been worse. Whoever Parker was, he’d come through in her time of need. He didn’t seem to think much of her, though. That message was clear in his stormy, whiskey brown eyes.
He held out his hand and helped her onto the wagon. She settled on the hard bench as he climbed up on his side. Soon they were off. She wanted
to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. Everything she thought she knew was a lie. How could his mother have done such a thing?
They headed down a heavily rutted trail, then Parker turned onto a trail that looked little used.
“How far is your ranch? You do have a ranch, don’t you?” She held her breath hoping he said yes.
He turned his head and looked at her. “Yes I do own a ranch. It’s a cattle ranch, and it takes most of my time. It’s over a week away.” He turned back and watched the trail.
“You’ve been away from it two weeks already?”
He gave a silent nod.
“I’m sorry it never occurred to me that I’d take up so many weeks of your time. Maybe I could have found a wagon going your way. I should have tried.”
Some of the tension seemed to leave his body as his shoulders relaxed. “You didn’t know. You were as duped as I was. My mother is meddlesome, I’m afraid. I’m all she has left. We lost my father and brother to the war effort, and she didn’t understand why her maids left her. She thought of them as family, she said.” He shrugged. “You don’t own family, of course, but she grew up on a plantation with slaves. She insisted they all accompany us to Texas. My father was the same way except he never lived to see them emancipated.”
Georgie mulled over his words, unsure how to respond.
“My brother and I both swore we’d never own another human,” Parker continued. “I’m capable of doing any of the work required, and now I have plenty of men who work for me. I wanted to hire some black women to help take care of the house, but I didn’t dare. My mother would have expected them to bow to her.” He glanced at Georgie. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know how you feel about slavery, or if you grew up with them. Everyone seems to have their own distinct opinion on the subject. It’s led to a lot of discord in my area of Texas.”
Tattered Hearts: Mail Order Brides of Spring Water Book One Page 1