by Kit Morgan
All three were slight in build, and like their cousins; Penelope, Constance, and Eloise, none of them shared the same hair color. Lena’s was a rich auburn, and darker than her cousin Penelope's. She also had beautiful, big brown eyes that looked deeply at everything she saw. She was also the tallest of the three and held herself the proudest. Fina on the other hand, had dark brown hair that was in sharp contrast to her creamy complexion. She also possessed the same dark eyes of her sister, yet hers had a gentle look, and one could easily see the kindness in them. Apple was another story with her golden hair that was very much like Belle’s, and also possessed the same brown eyes of her sister’s. But Apple’s eyes were full of mischief and a love of life that reminded Belle and Sadie of Constance. She was also the smallest of the three, and the one Sadie and Belle might have cause to worry about. Sadie, having already bore a child and Belle with one on the way, wondered if Apple’s slight frame would hold up under childbearing. But they would deal with it when the time was right. Right now the only thing any of them wanted to deal with was supper.
“Ladies,” said Sadie as she turned to a hutch and opened a drawer. “Would you mind setting the table?”
Three heads snapped to attention.
Belle giggled. “Come now, it's not as bad as all that.”
Lena and her sisters glanced at one another with worry. “I'm afraid we haven't much experience with this sort of thing, at least not doing it ourselves. Our question, of course, is; do you Americans set a table differently than we do in England?”
Sadie smiled. “I hardly think so, and besides, no one around here really cares.”
Lena, Fina, and Apple stared at her in shock. “What do you mean, no one around here cares?” asked Fina. “People do have manners in this country, do they not?"
“Certainly,” said Belle. “We just don't stand on them the way you do.”
Lena stood up from the table. “I suppose we should be grateful we’re not to take on any other tasks in your household tonight. Therefore I shall deign to set your table for you. But it will be to my satisfaction, not yours.” She went to the small pile of forks, spoons, and knives Sadie had set upon the table, scooped them up, and marched out of the kitchen.
“She's a funny one, isn't she?” Belle whispered to Sadie.
“She's always like that,” said Fina. “But you get used to it, after a while.”
“The sooner she gets used to the fact that this is not London, the better,” said Sadie.
“She's not angry,” said Apple. “She's terribly frightened.”
Sadie stared at the two remaining sisters. “I suppose that's understandable,” she said. “Which is why the Duke and myself matched you with the best possible choice of husband.” She went to the table and sat across from them. “Trust me when I say, the men you’re to marry are good, honest men. They’re also hard workers with kind hearts. Those attributes go a long way out here, and will help you survive.”
Apple and Fina stared at her as they both wondered the same thing. Coming from a world of servants at their every beck and call, would they come across as kindhearted and hard-working in front of their future husbands?
* * *
After dinner, the three sisters retired, each asleep as soon as their head hit their pillow. Imogene stayed up to speak with Harrison and Colin, something about marriage contracts, dowries, and other nonsense that men from a place like Clear Creek wouldn't care less about. But Imogene had seen them this far and protected them with not only her wealth, but her sharp tongue. According to Harrison, it was amazing she hadn’t been shot by now. But then, who'd be fool enough to do so? The woman would find a way to haunt the individual to his dying day, and make his life as miserable as possible.
At least she stopped insisting that Lena and her sisters be called by their given names. Their journey had been bad enough as they endured constant laugher and tried to explain how their names came about. Yes, they knew their father and mother were eccentric like Imogene, and hoped her oddness didn't rub off on them. However, each of them did have their own strange way of doing things, and each also had their own interests and talents. Some talents they were born with.
Lena for example, was articulate and a very good orator. She longed to be on the stage to act in a play or perhaps an opera, as her singing voice wasn't all that bad, and she had a good ear for music. Fina liked to paint, and saw the world as one huge canvas. Unfortunately, she also saw blank walls, linen napkins, tablecloths, and any other blank surface as her canvas, and often had to listen to her parents scold her on the proper use of the brush. Her strokes were too short, her lines too thin. Never mind the fact that she painted the dining room table itself, or one of her sister’s bedroom doors, the result was the same. She was never scolded for the items she painted, only the painting itself.
Then there was Apple, who couldn't stop talking if her life depended on it (well, maybe if her life depended on it) but that remained to be seen. She also possessed the uncanny knack of finishing a sentence for someone, or saying what they were going to say before they had a chance to say it. Her mind raced ahead of her mouth so often, it caused her tongue to stumble now and then into a stutter. But what did it matter? Apple was a bright and happy girl and nothing, not even tongue tripping, seemed to get her down. Except of course for the death of their father, and the announcement that she would be sent to America, and wed a man she had never met.
But of the three, it was Apple who convinced herself that what they were doing was a grand thing, and had the best attitude. She looked upon it as did Cousin Imogene. The whole farce was one, big, never-ending adventure, and one day, when they looked back on it, each of them would say: I'm glad I did it.
When morning arrived, Lena was loath to open her eyes, and instead flung an arm over them to keep the sunlight at bay, and rest a while longer. But that was not to be.
“Lena, wake up!” Apple cried.
“Go away,” she groaned.
“But Lena! They're here!”
Lena flung her arm from her face and peered at Apple with one, sleep-filled eye. "Who's here?"
“Men! I saw them ride up to the house. Maybe they’re our husbands!”
Lena sat up and looked at the window. “This early?”
“Fina has already gone downstairs,” said Apple as she grabbed one of Lena’s arms and pulled her out of bed. The result was Lena falling out instead. "Oh! I'm so sorry,” apologized Apple, “but we must hurry!"
“Let go of me! I can move more quickly without your help.”
Apple hurried to the window and pushed the curtains aside. “I don't see them, but I know they're out there,” she said with excitement.
Lena got her first good look at her sister. “Then you'd best get dressed, hadn’t you?”
Apple smiled with excitement and nodded enthusiastically. “Will you help me with my hair?”
Lena pushed herself up from the floor and sat on the bed. “Yes, yes I'll help you with your hair. But first let me get dressed.” She looked at the day dress she’d flung over the back of a chair the night before, and grimaced. Imogene had insisted they use only two dresses during their journey, and at this point, both had faded to a dull gray. “What has become of our trunks?”
Apple sat next to her. “You’re right! We can't be seen in our traveling clothes!” Apple hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.
Lena sighed, then began to count. “One, two, three…”
Apple burst back into the bedroom. “Oh heavens! I'm still in my night dress!”
Lena looked at her and smiled. “I was wondering when you'd notice that.”
“Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you stop me?”
“Would it have made any difference?” she asked flatly.
Apple giggled and shook her head.
Lena went to the chair and took up the dress. “I suppose one more day in this won't matter. Besides, I very much doubt the men you saw are the ones we’re to marry. It's much mor
e likely they’re the extra help Colin and Harrison have hired to guard their cattle.”
“Do you think they'll come back?” asked Apple.
“Who?”
“The outlaws, of course.”
“I dare say, sister, but I hope you're not looking for them to do so.”
“Of course not,” said Apple. “It's just that I've never seen a real outlaw, and I'm curious as to what one looks like.”
“You saw the look Sadie and Belle had on their faces when they talked of what the outlaws had done, did you not?” asked Lena.
“Yes,” said Apple. “But…”
“But nothing,” said Lena. “They nearly lost their lives, Apple. I can't imagine the horror of it. Stop romanticizing the ordeal.”
Apple sat on the bed. “If I look at it any other way, I don't know if I can ... stomach it.”
Lena looked at her and swallowed hard. She didn't realize it was all Apple could do to cope with the tragedy. A tragedy they’d not even been a part of. How was her sister ever going to survive in this wild country?
She went to the bed, sat, and put her arm around Apple. “Think no more of it, dear one. That’s the best way to handle it.”
Apple hugged her. “But you know how my mind works,” she said. “Once the thought gets in there, it runs around and around, and there's nothing I can do to stop it!”
Lena held her tighter. “Then we’ll just have to fill it with other things,” she told her.
“What things?”
Lena gently pushed them apart and smiled. “All the things that make you happy,” she said. “Including getting married. So, what say we get dressed, go downstairs, and see if we meet our husbands?”
* * *
Chase Adams didn't like being the bearer of bad news, and the news he held was about as bad as it could get. He stood on the porch of the Triple C’s ranch house, his fist poised to knock, and drew in a deep breath. He knocked once, twice, and before his fist hit the door a third time, it opened. Sadie looked him up and down and then leaned to one side to see if anyone was with him. Levi Stone stood at the foot of the porch holding the reins of their horses, looking very solemn. Sadie stopped breathing. “What happened?”
“I've got bad news, Mrs. Cooke,” Chase said. “Is your husband at home?”
Sadie glanced over her shoulder and down the hall behind her. “He's in the kitchen,” she said and opened the door to let him in.
Chase gave her a curt nod, and stepped into the front hall. Two women descended the staircase next to him, their eyes wide as they met his own. Pretty was the only word to enter his mind as his eyes drifted toward the kitchen. He'd been to the Triple C once before to shoe some horses, and knew the layout of the house. Leaving the women behind, he went to find Harrison.
He found him at the kitchen table with his step-father Jefferson, eating their breakfast. “Harrison, I'm sorry to interrupt your mornin’ meal, but some of the posse had to come back.”
Harrison sat and stared at him, his face a shade lighter than before. “Is someone hurt?”
Chase nodded and looked away. “I'm afraid so.”
“Who?” Harrison asked.
“That Jamison fella of yours, the one you hired last year?”
Harrison stood up from the table. “How bad is it?”
Chase closed his eyes a moment, swallowed hard, and looked back at him. “I'm sorry Harrison, but Jamison's dead.”
Harrison sucked in a breath and struck the table with a fist. He turned away from Chase and faced the opposite wall, hands on hips, his body stiff. “Shot?”
“Yeah,” said Chase. “In the back.”
Harrison turned to face him. “Did the outlaws get away?”
Chase nodded. “Jamison had a few of them cornered, when another got him from behind. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell ya.”
Harrison drew in a weary breath and let it out slowly. “Somebody had to do it. Besides, we can use you back in town. Especially now.”
Chase gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
“You didn't happen to notice we had houseguests, did you?”
Chase stared at him as he remembered the women on the staircase. “You mean… are they… here?”
Harrison nodded. “At least someone's getting good news today,” he said as he came around the table and headed for the hall.
Jefferson watched him go, shook his head, then looked at Chase. “Did you bring the body back with you, or bury him out there?”
“We brought him back. We left him at Doc Waller's for now, at least until we can give him a proper burial. None of us were sure if he had any kin.”
“He didn't, but I know something he did have.”
“What?”
“That,” said Jefferson and pointed.
Chase turned. Standing in the doorway were three of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes on. He knew that one of them, had to be his mail-order bride. It was then, Jefferson's words registered. Which one of the three, he wondered, had been Sam Jamison’s?
Three
“Not sure what their names are,” said Jefferson indicating the women with a nod. “I haven't been formally introduced myself.”
Sadie pushed her way through the wall of women in the doorway, her eyes wide. “Sam Jamison? Oh, this is terrible!”
“What’s terrible?” asked one of the women.
Sadie turned to them. “I think it's best if the three of you went upstairs. I'll join you just as soon as I can.”
Chase watched as one of the women stared intently at Sadie. Her dark eyes were alive with concern, and for a second he noticed how pretty her auburn hair looked against her ivory skin. She then turned her attention on him. “Tell me sir, what news have you brought that would put such despair in this woman's eyes?”
He didn't know what to say. He looked at Sadie and thought she'd rather tell the women herself. Sadie, however, surprised him when she sighed and nodded at him. He looked at the three inquisitive faces that now stared back. “How long have you been here at the Triple C?” he asked.
“We came only yesterday,” said the pretty auburn-haired woman.
“Then I'm sure Harrison and Colin have told you there's been trouble with outlaws in these parts.”
She nodded. “Yes, most unfortunate.”
“I was with the posse,” he said. “We tracked them up into the hills, but they split up, so we did the same and went after them.”
The dark-haired girl standing next to her, gasped. “But isn't it safer if you have a large party when hunting such men?”
“I'm no lawman,” he answered. “But I reckon so. There were five men in our group and we got a few of them outlaws cornered. Or at least, one of us did.”
The third woman, a pretty blonde, took the hand of the dark-haired girl and held it tight. “What… what happened?”
“Well, Sam Jamison's mighty good with a gun, but he wasn't expecting one of their gang to sneak up behind him.”
“Oh no,” breathed the auburn-haired girl. “They shot him, didn't they?”
Chase looked her in the eye. “Yes ma'am, they did. Right in the back.”
The petite blonde swooned, and the other two rushed to keep her from falling. Before Chase realized it, he was in the middle of them, gathering the unconscious woman in his arms. He picked her up without thinking as the other two gawked at him. “Where do you want me to put her, Mrs. Cooke?”
“In the parlor, Chase. Hurry.”
He carried the girl into the parlor as Sadie directed, and deposited her on the settee. The auburn- haired girl was right behind him, and he bumped into her as he stood. “Excuse me, ma'am.” Her eyes were fearful, and his heart went out to her. “Don't worry, she’ll be all right. She's just fainted, that's all.”
The woman didn't move away as propriety would dictate, but instead remained where she was. They were so close their arms were touching. “Poor Apple. How I fear for her at times.”
“She's your siste
r, isn't she?”
“Yes, my younger sister.” She looked at him and smiled. “How very rude of me. We've not been properly introduced. However, I do believe under the circumstances, introductions will have to wait.” She bent to the settee and began to fan the face of her sister.
The dark-haired girl joined them, a glass of water in her hand. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “She’s still out?”
“I'm afraid so,” said the auburn haired girl.
The dark-haired girl looked up at him. “Ah, our savior in our time of need. And you are?”
“Chase Adams, ma'am,” he said with a nod of his head.
“This is my sister, Lena,” she said with a toss of her head at the auburn-haired woman. “And the one passed out cold, is Apple.”
Apple's eyes began to flutter as she regained consciousness. “Oh good,” said Lena. “I do believe she's coming around.”
Sadie entered the parlor, a damp cloth in her hand. She placed it on Apple’s forehead as the girl opened her eyes. “Don't get up,” ordered Sadie. “Lie there for a time, you'll feel better if you do.”
“What happened?” asked Apple.
“You fainted dead away,” said Fina. “This kind gentleman carried you in here and set you down.
“He carried me?” she asked, her voice breathless.
Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He carried you because you fainted, and you fainted because you heard that a man had been shot and killed.”
Apple's expression quickly turned to horror. “Oh,” she said as her face paled. “Yes, I remember now.”
“I’d best be going now, ladies,” said Chase. Though he knew one of them was his bride-to-be, he had work to do. Unpleasant work at that. He turned to Sadie. “If none of you are needin’ Levi or me for anything else, then we’d better head back to town and make arrangements with Preacher Jo for a burial.”
Sadie nodded solemnly. “Yes, I suppose that's best. I'm sorry you had to meet Harrison's cousins under such circumstances.”