Rachel (Bride Brigade Book 5)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Her dinner companion’s statement brightened Rachel’s spirits. “You’re very kind. That’s a good idea. They’ll also be looking for a fresh start.”

  Mr. Brown watched her, but didn’t approach their table. The lovely room lost its glamour with that man staring at her. She’d be glad when the tenth arrived and they left Richmond.

  Later that night in her room, nightmares hounded her again. This time, they included Mr. Brown pursuing her as she ran and ran. She awakened in twisted bed sheets.

  The following morning, she was down for breakfast before Lydia and Sophie. She was seated where she and Sophie had dined the previous evening.

  Mr. Brown approached her table. “For someone who claims to have no money, you’re living pretty high.”

  Rachel gave him a stern glare. “I’m the guest of someone. You’re wasting your time following me.”

  “I disagree. Sooner or later you’ll lead me to that money.”

  Lydia and Sophie walked into the dining room.

  Sophie marched over to Mr. Brown. “Sir, you had better stop harassing Miss Ross or I’ll report you to the manager.”

  Lydia bristled and her commanding manner impressed Rachel. “You will not repeat this intrusion, sir. Miss Ross is my guest and I’ll not have her badgered when she’s done nothing wrong.”

  Mr. Brown smirked. “She embezzled money from Haversham Imports and Exports. Mr. Haversham wants it returned.”

  Lydia appeared as regal as Queen Victoria. “You are well aware that Miss Ross was wrongly convicted. However, even if she were as guilty as you pretend, she has paid her debt to society and is now free to live as she chooses.”

  Sophie stepped up to the odious man’s face. “If I see you again, I’ll take my parasol after you.”

  “Oh, yeah? Listen lady, I have as much right to be in this dining room as you do and—”

  “You’re correct in that you have a right to be here,” Lydia interrupted. “But you are not entitled to annoy Miss Ross. My family is not without influence in this city. Cease your pestering or I will report you to the authorities.”

  Mr. Brown’s face reddened and his mouth opened and closed. “You haven’t heard the last of this.” He spun on his heels and stomped from the dining room.

  Rachel was near tears but smiled at her two defenders. “Thank you both. Other than my brother, no one has defended me.”

  Lydia sat and flicked her napkin across her lap with force. “Good heavens, that’s terrible, Rachel. From now on, you can count on being a part of my family.”

  Sophie reached over to pat Rachel’s hand. “And mine, too. Although that’s the same thing, as Lydia could be the daughter I wanted and didn’t have.”

  Rachel sighed with relief. “You don’t know how much your support and inclusion means to me. I can hardly wait until we leave for Texas.”

  After breakfast, they returned to their rooms. At nine-forty-five, Rachel knocked at the suite where Lydia and Sophie were holding interviews.

  Lydia opened the door. “Good morning, Rachel, why don’t you sit near Sophie? As I told you, yesterday you were the only one of more than a dozen applicants I thought would fit well in Tarnation. We’ll have other women to interview today. I wish I’d said we’d be here only two days instead of six. I hope to hold myself to four young women.”

  Rachel happily sat near Sophie, thankful beyond reason for the opportunity. Most of all, she was ecstatic to be included as these two women’s friend. Perhaps there were more people she could trust, but so far these two women and Patrick didn’t make a long list.

  Turning away some of the applicants was difficult. Rachel became adept at a discreet cough to let Lydia know her opinion when others were not acceptable due to obviously lying, appearing as lightskirts, or giving the impression they were on the run from the law. A couple of the more “experienced” women applicants had such outlandish tales she had trouble keeping from laughing.

  At the end of each day, Rachel sent up a prayer of thanks that she had been included. Lydia’s offer had saved her from who knew what fate?

  Chapter Four

  Zane Davis drove his freight wagon behind his office to the warehouse. Ken Hill followed in the second vehicle accompanied by the four guards Zane employed to protect the freight in transit. He set the brake and climbed wearily to the ground.

  They’d broken a wheel outside Palo Pinto Town. A couple of owlhoots had tried to rob them and ended up in the Calgondo jail. By the time they sighted Tarnation, Zane was fed up with this trip.

  Apparently Ken shared the opinion. “Let’s get these wagons unloaded so we can go home.”

  Zane figured his hair was several shades darker than its natural blond due to the dusty trails they’d traveled. “I’m looking forward to a hot bath. I’m carrying several pounds of North Central Texas dirt on me.”

  His four guards pitched in and helped unload. By the time they closed the warehouse doors and took care of their animals, almost two hours had passed. As they each readied to go to his home, Zane spotted wives waiting on the porches of the four houses nearby where the guards lived. Dang, he wished someone waited for him at his home.

  He and Ken strode toward town.

  “Guess Zillah’s waiting supper on you.” What? Did he sound wistful? He sure as hell hoped not. He wanted no man’s pity.

  Ken shot him an amused glance. “You need a wife, Boss.”

  He shook his head. “Aw, you married guys want to see every other man shackled.”

  “A partnership isn’t being shackled. Zillah and I have been together going on twenty-five years. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

  “I agree you make a good couple. Even if I wanted to marry, where would I find someone?”

  A mischievous grin flashed on Ken’s face. “Miss Claiborne in Fort Worth looked eager to fill the bill.”

  Zane stared at the other man. “Claudia Claiborne? She would never consider living in an out-of-the-way place like Tarnation and I’d never consider living in Fort Worth. You see a problem here?”

  Ken laughed. “She does appear to expect a man to dance to her tune. There are a lot more women in the world and many of them in Fort Worth. Plenty of them would enjoy living here if they were married to you.”

  Zane shrugged. “Yeah? You find one, let me know.”

  Ken turned off at his house. “I will, you can count on it.”

  Continuing up the street to his home, Zane mulled over Ken’s suggestion. Darned if he’d gamble on a mail-order bride. What if he wound up married to a shrew or someone dull as a post? He preferred to meet and get acquainted with a woman before he proposed matrimony.

  There had to be a better solution. Maybe next time he was in Fort Worth he’d accept a dinner invitation.

  ***

  On the tenth, Rachel didn’t relax until she was in the private rail car Lydia had reserved and the train left Richmond behind. On the first part of the journey, Rachel settled in her comfortable, plush chair. Knots in her muscles slowly loosened and unwound while she enjoyed the passing landscape. Their car’s gentle rocking soothed her as they sped down the rails and out of Virginia.

  Lydia had been unable to turn away two latecomers, Josephine Nailor and Ophelia Shipp. After Ophelia fainted in the doorway, Rachel wouldn’t have been able to turn her down either. Their addition meant there were six young women accompanying Lydia and Sophie. Rachel grinned at Lydia’s soft heart.

  Riding in a private rail car made travel easy. The porter prepared their food in the car and served them on the linen covered tables decorated with fresh flowers. They had a private toilet—though with eight of them it was frequently in use.

  Each woman had a fold-down berth for sleeping. Being in the confined space gave Rachel rise to panic. This was not a cell, not a punishment box, and she was fine—so why was she perspiring and suppressing the need to claw her way out? Over and over as she waited for sleep to claim her, she repeated the mental litany “you’re fine, you’re fine”.<
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  A half-day’s layover in St. Louis gave them the chance to shop. Rachel accompanied the other women, but didn’t spend any of her remaining cash. She almost staggered when she caught sight of Mr. Brown. No, surely she was mistaken. He wouldn’t follow her to Texas.

  When they returned to the station, another young woman waited with Lydia and Sophie. Her name was Angeline Chandler and, counting her, that made seven going to Tarnation to wed. Angeline’s face was pale and she appeared ill. Although her clothes were the highest quality, she had only two suitcases with her.

  There were no more berths, so the porter arranged one of the chairs in a reclining position for Angeline’s sleeping. He offered to change it up or down whenever she wished. For now, she chose to sleep most of the time.

  After they were once again on their way, Josephine stopped beside Rachel’s chair. “You look calm in spite of us traveling halfway across the country to change our lives.”

  If only she could be frank with Josephine but she didn’t dare. “The gentle motion of the train has about rocked me to sleep. Are you worried about the future?”

  The other woman glanced at her friend. “No, I’m looking forward to Texas. I’m concerned about Ophelia’s health, although her megrim appears to be easing.”

  Rachel doubted a migraine was the real reason for Ophelia’s seclusion but didn’t say so. “Fortunately, I’ve never had a headache that severe but I sympathize with her. Obviously, you’re a very good friend to be so caring.”

  Josephine glanced toward the curtains closing off where her friend lay resting. “She’d do the same for me. She’s such a kind person.”

  “I look forward to knowing both of you better.” Rachel laughed. “I hope Tarnation is prepared for us to descend on the town.”

  Josephine joined her laughter. “Do you think the townspeople know we’re on our way and that we have lots of plans for them?”

  Josephine moved behind Rachel to stand by the girl who’d joined them in St. Louis. “How are you doing, Angeline? Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you. I’m unusually sleepy and can’t seem to stay awake long enough to talk. But, I sincerely appreciate everyone being so friendly.”

  “Then I’ll let you rest.” Josephine strolled away, apparently surefooted, even with the train’s swaying movement.

  Happy chatter occasionally drew Rachel to comment. Normally, until just over three years ago, she’d been a gregarious and happy person. Since then, she’d become adept at appearing cheerful no matter how she ached or seethed inside.

  Her current companions kept a lively conversation on what to expect, their hopes, and the passing scenery. Cassandra was clever and witty. Lorraine usually read a book but displayed a wide variety of knowledge. Prudence listened as if she stored away every word.

  Ophelia continued to rest a lot behind closed curtains. Angeline slept most of the time. Josephine tended to mother everyone.

  The further they traveled from Richmond, the more the amiability of her companions dampened the fiery anger burning in her gut. On second thought, perhaps only men had guts and women had abdomens. No matter, her past hurts receded with each mile in pleasant and hopeful company.

  At the same time, new thoughts chipped away at her confidence. What if she they came across someone who recognized her and mentioned her imprisonment? There was no way to protect herself. At least she’d told Lydia and Sophie of her past.

  At Fort Worth, Lydia warned everyone the depot was in a bad area known as Hell’s Half Acre. As they disembarked the train, Lydia shooed them to several cabs. Rachel caught sight of rowdy cowboys, saloons, and women in shockingly scanty dresses. Several of the women wore garishly heavy makeup. In spite of there being a hotel by the depot, they went to one several blocks from that spot. They checked in, were shown to their rooms, and rejoined Lydia in the lobby.

  “Let’s go to dinner and I’ll give instructions for tomorrow.” She preceded them into the dining room.

  When they were seated and had given the waiter their orders, Lydia clapped her hands, her signal for attention. “Tomorrow begins the difficult portion of the journey. Rachel and Josephine, will you calculate the amount of simple food we’ll require for the remainder of our trip?”

  Cassandra looked askance. “Won’t the stage stop for meals?”

  Lydia and Sophie exchanged a glance. “Yes, but only long enough to change horses. In most cases, way station food is barely edible. We decided we’d be better off taking provisions with us. Then we won’t have to concern ourselves with the brief stops and poor food.”

  Rachel sought to clarify the request. “Where are Josephine and I to obtain these supplies?”

  “If you give an order to the kitchen tonight, they’ll put it together and add it to my bill. I suggest maybe fried chicken for the first day and then sandwiches. You’ll need enough to include the two drivers.”

  Josephine’s frown marred her lovely face. “Doesn’t the stage company furnish the driver’s food?”

  Lydia spread her hands on the table. “Ordinarily, I imagine they do. The usual stage to Tarnation arrives only on Tuesdays and Fridays and carries six passengers inside. If there are more, they ride on top of the stage.” She paused when gasps were emitted by several women.

  Lydia nodded. “You can see that’s hardly suitable for us, so I’ve engaged a Concord stage which seats nine. The ride is still difficult, hot, dusty, and crowded, but we’ll all be inside the same vehicle. We won’t have to wait a day to leave, plus that leaves the top for our trunks. We’ll arrive in Tarnation on Thursday afternoon.”

  She held up her hand. “One other thing. You’ll be smart to leave off your bustle. Otherwise, you’ll be even more uncomfortable.”

  They boarded the stage early the next morning. Josephine and Rachel directed hotel porters to load their food baskets. Rachel wondered if the conveyance would topple over with the amount of luggage piled on top. Hopefully, the weight of nine women inside would anchor the vehicle.

  Soon the travelers were seated and underway. Pleasant as the train ride had been, the stage ride was the opposite. The big coach was crammed with not even an inch of spare space.

  Rachel wriggled for a comfortable position. “Lydia, thank heavens you told us to leave off our bustles.”

  Cassandra grabbed the edge of the window. “I see what you mean about rough and jarring.”

  Lydia shook her head. “This is the good road. Wait until we leave the main trail and head for Tarnation.”

  Angeline peered out the window. “Are there Red Indians waiting to waylay us?”

  Lydia patted the woman’s hand. “No, there’s no danger of an attack. Any Indians we encounter will be peaceful.”

  Rachel asked, “What about stage robbers? There are a lot of places for them to hide.”

  Shaking her head, Lydia brushed at her skirt. “The second driver is always on the lookout and we’re an unscheduled run. I believe dust blowing in the windows and covering us is the biggest problem. And we can’t drink enough to quench our thirst with our stops so rigidly arranged.”

  Seated on the center bench, Prudence turned around to talk to Lydia. “I thought you were in charge of the stage since you arranged for it. Can’t you simply tell the driver to stop when one of us needs to relieve herself?”

  “Even though I secured the vehicle, we have to stop where we can change horses. We can’t be caught stopped in dangerous, isolated places.”

  After the luxury of the train car, nine women in one coach created conditions too close for wide skirts with several petticoats, baskets of food, and small valises. They could hardly move enough to stretch their limbs. At each stop, they rotated so the same people weren’t sitting on the less comfortable center bench. Except for Ophelia, who preferred to sit on the backless seat.

  Rachel decided something was wrong with Ophelia’s back because she never sat in a way that her back pressed against anything. None of Rachel’s business, but the girl appeared delicate and
frail, as did Angeline.

  Conversation lagged under the rough conditions. At least no one had to ride on top of the stage and sit on the trunks. Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable and precarious?

  Rachel watched the changing landscape and wondered at many of the plants.

  Lorraine, who had been a librarian and always had a book in her hand, pointed out features. “That small cactus is edible if one burns off the spines. The fruit is called a tuna, nothing like a fish.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Lorraine continued, “The small straight trees are post oaks. The Indians named this area Palo Pinto for those trees which turn bright colors in the fall.”

  Lydia chuckled. “Goodness, you’re well-informed for a newcomer to this area. I’m pleased you’ve taken the time to research. The large oak trees with the wide tops and often low hanging branches are called live oaks because they remain green year around. Other tall ones are called pin oaks, burr oaks, and red oaks. Their leaves change colors before they drop. Cottonwoods are large trees that grow near water.”

  Rachel considered what she’d seen so far. This land was very different from Virginia. Wasn’t that what she wanted?

  Chapter Five

  Zane sat in the parlor of his recently completed home. His chair faced the fireplace. The room was comfortable enough but lacked something. Peering around, he compared this to his parents’ parlor. His mother had decorated that home so that it was beautiful and inviting.

  He called to his part-time housekeeper, “There’s something missing in here, Mrs. Querado. Don’t have the knack of choosing doodads and such like I remember in my parents’ home.”

  Mrs. Querado stepped to the kitchen door and sent him a meaningful stare. “Señor Evans, what you need is a wife. You have a good business and now this lovely home. Any woman should be happy to become your wife.”

  Now that he was well established in the freighting and warehouse business, he could afford to consider marriage. “Only, there are no single women of marriage age in Tarnation, Texas.”