by Joyce Armor
Mail-Order Cousins 4:
Bridget
Joyce Armor
Mail-Order Cousins 4: Bridget
Smashwords Edition
Cover: Vila Design
Trusty Reader: Chris Gale
Expert Formatting: Jesse Gordon
Mail-Order Cousins: Bridget
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Near Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania, 1877
No. This could not possibly be happening. How could he? Why would he?
It didn’t make sense. For the fifth time, Bridget Anne O’Hara read Karl Burgen’s brief letter, but it still said the same thing. He had changed his mind and did not want her to come. He said the marriage was off. After she got over the shock and the wrenching hurt, she felt a little angry. Well, maybe a lot angry. He couldn’t just change his mind. She wasn’t having it. That’s all there was to it. She stewed and mumbled and finally decided to go on as if the letter had never arrived.
They had corresponded with each other for five months, and Karl had proposed in the last letter before this one. She’d written him back and accepted. Her cousin Per had told her he was a wonderful, honest and hardworking man, and she could see this in his letters as he described the ranch in Oregon, where Per and her husband, Gus Burgen, and his brother Karl were partners. Her mail-order fiancé—or was that former fiancé?—described with pride building the house and barn, adding a bunkhouse and a growing herd. The ranch boasted a number of horses now as well as cattle, and the partners had sold more than two dozen horses to the Army, bringing in enough money to hire two ranch hands.
Bridget also found Karl’s letters humorous and charming and had half fallen in love with him through the mail. He wasn’t going to dump her by post, and that was that. If she got all the way out to Oregon and he still wanted to call off the wedding, she couldn’t prevent that. At least she could see his eyes as he cast her away. Sometimes she felt she had a gift for looking into a person’s eyes and seeing into his heart. And, at the very least, she could have a nice visit with her cousin and new second cousin and get to know Per’s husband. She could be a big help at the ranch, too. She could cook and sew, ride and take care of horses and cattle, and was a healer of sorts, inventive and skilled in the medical arts.
She twisted her thick, dark red hair into a long braid as she pondered over the abrupt change in Karl, going over in her mind his harsh letter. It had only arrived 20 minutes ago, and already she had it memorized.
Bridget:
I’ve a had a change of heart and have
decided not to marry. You’ll find
someone else better suited.
Karl Burgen
Not “Dear Bridget” or “My Beloved Bridget” as in his other letters. And as if she wouldn’t know who had written the letter if he hadn’t added his last name. He hadn’t used his full name since his first letter months ago. What was going on?
I’ve had a change of heart.
Had she said something wrong in her last letter? She had been deliriously happy to receive his proposal. Had she sounded too happy in her reply? Was that even possible? She knew she could be a little pushy, not to mention headstrong, but she didn’t think she had stepped over any line. She simply told him she was thrilled to accept his proposal and when she would be arriving. Oh, and she told him about her brother falling out of the apple tree and spraining his ankle and about the cow that went missing. And the parade in Elizabethtown celebrating Independence Day.
Her train was leaving in the morning, and she would be on it, by God. She didn’t feel she was just going blindly. Bridget was optimistic by nature and felt surely she and Karl could work this out. There was no way she was telling her family that her fiancé didn’t want her anymore. She had planned to leave the farm, and she was leaving; that was all there was to it. Her sister Lindy had been a mail-order bride, as were her cousins Per and Sophie. They all had found happiness, and Bridget wanted her piece of the pie, too. If she wasn’t meant to marry Karl, why had her heart beat faster with every letter she received from him? Why did the name Bridget Burgen sound so right?
By now Mam and Da had come to terms with their daughters traipsing off to the frontier as mail-order brides. She supposed that might partly be because Da had been an immigrant, arriving in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in 1853. He came as a youth to the United States after surviving the terrible Irish potato famine, on a rite of passage to see what this young country was all about. Then he met mam and became a loyal American, doing his duty as a sergeant in the 15th Pennsylvania Regiment during the War Between the States. Da understood the spirit of adventure and a need to find something beyond one’s roots. So her folks didn’t try to talk her out of it, although they did advocate caution, prodding her to really think about what life would be like in the wilderness. It didn’t help their cause, of course, that Per had married Karl’s brother Gus and was, by all accounts, gloriously happy.
Bridget thought space was probably an issue at the ranch so only packed one small trunk and a valise. She remembered how Per had simplified her wardrobe when she traveled to Oregon and she tried to do the same. By now her twin brothers were used to losing an outfit each so that their mail-order bride sisters, as well as their cousin Per, could ride astride and dress comfortably for any dirty jobs. Fortunately, farm clothes shouldn’t be all that different from ranch clothes. She included in her trunk several jars of strawberry preserves, which she thought might not be readily available in the backwoods, and all of her herbal remedies and salves as well as her few medical instruments.
Before leaving the farmhouse, most likely forever, she dashed off a letter to Per telling her that Karl had called off the engagement but she was coming anyway and when she would arrive. She asked her cousin not to tell Karl of her imminent arrival, reasoning she would be more likely to learn the truth if he were surprised and didn’t have time to concoct a detailed excuse. She hoped the letter would get to Vale, Oregon, where the last stagecoach would deposit her, and out to the ranch, before she did. Otherwise the situation could be more awkward than it already was.
Ready or not, Bridget O’Hara was heading west to meet her destiny.
Chapter 1
“I’m missing you already, dear Bridget,” her mother said as she hugged her second oldest daughter.
“I’ll write, Mam, just as soon as I get to the ranch.”
“Don’t fall off any horses,” her little brother Cody joked.
She ruffled his curly brown hair. “I’ll try my best.”
“We better be on our way, lassie, if you don’t want to miss your train,” Da urged.
One by one, she hugged her mother and five siblings standing there, even though her teenage brothers, including the one on crutches, and little Cody squirmed. They would be happy to receive a hug from a woman soon enough.
“You’re sure and certain th
is is what you want, Bridget girl?” her father asked as he directed the carriage to the front of the train station.
“Aye, Da. Karl is a fine man, and I’ll be with Per, too.”
“You can always come back if it doesn’t work out,” he said as he helped her down.
“I know that, and you and Mam can always come visit, too.”
“I’d like to see the West meself before I’m too old to appreciate it.”
“Fine then. Just give me some time to settle in first.”
The train was somewhere in Indiana when she remembered that conversation and wondered if she would ever settle in. Based on Karl’s abrupt dismissal of her, she was sure and certain he would not be pleased to see her, at least at first. And then a horrible thought occurred to her, and she couldn’t believe it had not entered her mind before. And suddenly she was almost sure of it. Karl had most likely fallen in love with another woman. How could she be so stupid?
I’ve had a change of heart.
Bollocks!
Logic told Bridget there must not be a lot of women wandering around the wilderness, but her cousin and Gus and Karl rode to Vale for supplies, and Karl could have met someone there. Now she felt like a complete fool. She wallowed in regret and sadness from Indiana through Illinois, and then the stubborn, willful Bridget took over. Karl was hers, by God, and she would fight for him. Well, not literally, she hoped. She chuckled. An older woman in a severe black gown, probably in mourning, gave her a disapproving look and already she missed her siblings, who would have giggled with her at the woman’s frosty glare.
In Des Moines, Iowa, a cheerful young woman boarded the train, looked around at the passengers and approached Bridget.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
Bridget smiled. “Not at all.”
It turned out Marguerite Colter was a mail-order bride, too. Well, maybe Bridget wasn’t a mail-order bride after all, but she was not about to admit that to a virtual stranger, and who knew what the future might bring anyway?
“Isn’t it exciting?” Marguerite gushed. “My Peter is an attorney in Casper. That’s in Wyoming, you know. He’s a widower and has a three-year-old son, Webb, and a two-year-old daughter, Clara, so I’ll be a mother, too.”
“That’s wonderful,” Bridget replied, thinking how difficult it would be to become an instant mother. She knew from personal experience with her younger siblings how challenging two- and three-year-olds could be to manage. Suddenly her own cross to bear, a groom who didn’t want her, didn’t seem too daunting. Yes, keep telling yourself that.
“Tell me about your man,” Marguerite urged.
Bridget smiled. “Karl is intelligent and hard-working and has a wonderful outlook on life. And a good sense of humor. He and his brother, Gus, own a cattle and horse ranch in Oregon. My cousin Per is married to Gus. Their son is six months old.”
They talked about their hopes and dreams, shared anecdotes about their upbringing and even traded recipes. The time seemed to fly by. When Marguerite got off the train in Casper, Bridget felt more alone than she had in a long time. The young women promised to keep in touch. The Pennsylvania farmer’s daughter watched out the window as her former seatmate tentatively approached a man in a black suit. He had dark hair and a mustache and held a bowler hat in his hands. The exchange looked a little awkward at first, and then they embraced. Marguerite must have said something amusing because he laughed and the ice was broken. They held hands as they walked off. She wondered where the children were. She was happy for Marguerite and just a little bit envious.
Bridget knew Karl wouldn’t be meeting her stagecoach in Vale, since he was unaware of her impending arrival. At least she hoped he was. Throughout the rest of her train ride, she fought the creeping sensation that this venture was a monumental mistake. It couldn’t be. She somehow knew deep within her that Karl was the man for her. She just had to make him understand that. And hope you’re not a pathetic leech hanging on to a lost hope.
The stagecoach rides were bumpy and dusty and a bit unnerving but somehow invigorating at the same time. She was bouncing toward her future, whatever that might bring. She was a bit weary and a lot gritty by the time the second coach pulled into Vale, but she had made new friends in the sheriff’s sister and wife and felt as if her life was truly starting. She saw Per the moment she stepped off the coach and ran to her. Dropping her valise and medical bag in the dust, she enfolded her cousin in a joyous hug and then stepped back suddenly.
“Oh, I got you dusty.”
“You made it! And dust never hurt anybody.”
“Did you doubt me?”
“Not for a second.”
Bridget laughed, pleased at how healthy and happy her cousin looked. Glowing, in fact. Then she turned to the handsome, tanned and very healthy-looking man standing slightly behind Per. He was holding the baby, a blonde-haired angel with brown eyes and chubby cheeks.
“Bridget, these are my boys, Gus and little Henry. Gentlemen, meet my happy cousin, Bridget.”
She and Gus smiled at each other and exchanged greetings. Bridget tickled Henry and he giggled.
“He’s beautiful, Per,” Bridget smiled.
“Thank you,” Gus said. “The baby’s good-looking too, don’t you think?”
And they all laughed.
Gus looked at Bridget’s thick, dark red braid cascading over her shoulder and her lake-blue eyes. She had a smattering freckles over her cheeks and was simply downright beautiful in a refreshing, natural way. And her personality just bubbled. Karl is a fool if he lets this one get away.
Bridget’s take on Gus was similarly positive. She liked him immediately. He was a tall, handsome man with a strong jaw, dancing brown eyes and muscles in all the right places. If Karl was half as good looking as his brother, Bridget would have to fight not to drool.
“Do you have trunks?” Gus looked around.
“Just one small one.”
Gus handed Per the baby and walked off to find her trunk.
Bridget studied her cousin, who had never looked happier. She positively beamed. “Does he know I’m coming?”
“No.”
“Do you think this is a mistake?”
“No. You know you’re welcome here in any case.” She adjusted the baby as he squirmed.
“I just don’t understand why…”
“We’ll talk about it on the way to the ranch because Gus will have some things to say, too. Do you need to stop at the mercantile or refresh yourself before we head out?”
Why wouldn’t Per look her in the eye? Is she afraid to tell me that Karl has another woman? Suddenly Bridget was just as happy to put off the inevitable as Per was.
“No, I don’t think so.”
By the time Gus returned with the trunk and they reached the buckboard, Henry had fallen asleep. Per fixed a secure place for him on blankets in the wagon bed and the three of them settled on the seat for the long ride to the ranch. For the first hour, Per and Bridget chatted about her trip and the family. Bridget vividly described the scene when Per’s mother, Candida Vanderhaven, stormed the farm demanding to know where her daughter had gone, and they laughed.
“I guess every family has its colorful characters,” Bridget said.
They had stopped near a creek, where the horses could rest and drink. Per spread out a blanket and the three adults shared some bread and cheese. Henry still slept.
There was a resounding silence, and then Per spoke.
“Bridget, about Karl…”
She seemed to choke up, and Bridget began to dread what was coming. Still, it would do no good to put off the inevitable.
“Just tell me, Per.” She waited to hear about Karl’s beautiful, voluptuous, perfect new fiancée.
“He had an accident.”
That was so foreign to what Bridget expected to hear that for a moment it didn’t register. Then she said dumbly, “What?”
Per and Gus looked at each other. She was shocked at the pain she could see in the
ir eyes. Per looked helplessly at Gus. He took a deep breath and then began talking.
“Karl and I went up the mountain to explore and do some hunting. His horse got spooked by a bobcat and reared, losing its footing. Karl fell and the horse landed on him.”
“But he’s…he’s still alive?”
Per reached over and put a comforting hand on Bridget’s.
“His right arm and leg were badly broken. Also some ribs.”
“But they’ll heal.” Bridget was stubbornly holding on to the hope that Karl would be all right and they would work things out.
“They’ve had almost enough time to heal, but they’re not right. His hand is numb and he has a severe limp. He’s still in pain. It’s his attitude, though, that was the most damaged. He’s angry and depressed and surly.” Per shook her head.
“He feels useless,” Gus added. “No amount of talking or arguing with him has made a difference. He’s stopped trying. He’s not helping out at the ranch anymore. He just stays in his cabin and broods. Won’t even join us for meals.”
Bridget absorbed all that and made a decision. She stood and brushed off some bread crumbs. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then.”
Per smiled, but Gus looked doubtful.
“Your brother might be obstinate and belligerent, Gus, but I’d put my cousin’s stubbornness against his any day.”
The baby starting gurgling. Gus shook his head, helping his wife up. “I guess things couldn’t get much worse.”
Bridget thought about that as Per changed the baby’s diaper and Gus retrieved the horses. Things would probably get much worse before they got better. She knew Karl must have gone through intense pain and most likely was still in great pain, which undoubtedly added to his surliness. She would have to assess his condition before she knew whether she could improve him physically. If he was not very mobile, that would work in her favor. He wouldn’t be able to escape. She would have to steel herself against his temper, which she was certain he would use to try to drive her away. Now she knew why he sent the letter. He didn’t think he was worthy of her anymore. Bridget O’Hara was in a battle for her future, for her happiness, for her children and grandchildren, and Karl Burgen was in for the fight of his life. He just didn’t know it yet.