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Rachel (Bride Brigade Book 5)

Page 4

by Caroline Clemmons


  “Ah, but Señora Harrison, she is bringing proper young women back with her from Virginia. You will meet them and find one who is right for you.”

  He recalled hearing from the sheriff that Lydia Harrison, widow of the Civil War hero Will Harrison, had gone east to bring back several women of marriageable age and good temperament.

  Zane stood and paced the room. “What makes you think they would choose me from all the men flocking around them?” He didn’t like the idea of having to compete with a large number of other men for the interest of only a few women.

  “Señor, all you need is one.”

  Strolling through the house, his heels echoed through the dining room vacant of furniture and he tread into the kitchen. “How many other men are thinking the same thing? Competition will be fierce.”

  Mrs. Querado removed roast beef surrounded by potatoes and carrots from the oven for his supper. “You will see—your food will taste much better when shared with a woman you choose.”

  “Thanks for your confidence.” Maybe he’d just meet the stage tomorrow and check out the women Lydia Harrison brought with her. Couldn’t hurt to greet her, could it?

  ***

  After what seemed to Rachel an interminable stage journey, they arrived at their destination. Exhausted, hot, and covered with a layer of sand, she took time to assess the town as she left the stage. Streets were dirt streets and not all businesses had boardwalks in front. Shopping must be messy during and after rain. At the other end of town a white church spire was visible and she noticed there were several streets of homes.

  On two sides of the town, green hills rose. On the other two sides, rolling ranch land with tall, green grass stretched out as far as she could see. Now that the stage’s dust had settled, the air was fresh and clean. Smiling, she believed she could make a home here and be part of a growing community.

  At least two dozen men waited to greet them, several of whom were attractive. One of them caught her eye. With blond hair and bright blue eyes, he was as fair as she was dark except for his suntanned skin.

  Laughing and chatting, the men carried their luggage and followed them to Lydia’s home. She tried to catch the blond man’s eye but he was joking with another man, the one introduced as the sheriff. Oh, dear, she hoped she wouldn’t have problems with the law here.

  With a start, she scolded herself. There would be no trouble here because she was wiser than that naïve, gullible girl who worked in Richmond. Never would she allow herself to be put in jeopardy again.

  Lorraine walked beside her. “Can you believe Lydia’s home? Why, it looks as if the house from a great plantation had magically appeared before our eyes.”

  “I confess I’m surprised. I realized Lydia was wealthy, but I didn’t dream her home would be like this one.”

  Glancing around at the other women, Rachel observed they apparently shared her reaction.

  Lorraine tut-tutted. “From that private car and the hotel suite, I knew she had plenty of money, but I didn’t realize the extent of her fortune.”

  Rachel giggled and nudged her new friend. “Fortune—we’re the ones who have good fortune. How we’ll love staying in such a lovely home. We’ll be spoiled and won’t want to leave.”

  Lorraine smiled. “Just let me park somewhere with a book and I’ll be set for life. An occasional cup of tea would be helpful too.”

  Inside Lydia’s luxurious home, Rachel surveyed the elegant style of furnishings. Everything about the place appeared tasteful and perfect, yet the atmosphere was inviting. How lucky to be staying here. For the first time in years, she was almost optimistic and hope blossomed.

  After Lydia had sent the men cheerfully on their way, she introduced Mrs. Moira Murphy, her cook-housekeeper, and Mrs. Berta Greenberg, her part-time cleaning lady.

  “Ladies, as I mentioned in Richmond, you’ll be expected to help Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Greenberg. For those who aren’t familiar with running a household, you’ll have the opportunity to learn what you’ll need to be a capable wife. In addition, you’ll learn how to entertain guests when we have receptions and dances. We’ll take turns being hostess at our meals so you gain that experience.”

  Prudence nodded her approval. “That’s good. I lived in a tiny house in the woods.” She gestured around them. “This kind of life is new to me and kind of frightening.”

  Lydia smiled and spread her hands. “No need to be intimidated, Ladies. We’ll work together. By the time you decide who you wish to marry, you’ll be prepared to run his household efficiently.”

  Josephine asked, “What if we don’t find a man we want to spend our life with?”

  Lydia smiled at her. “In the event you don’t find the man for you, you’ll know how to run your own home. But, I hope each of you does find love, marries, and has lots of children. There’s only one child in town and we need many more. Now, let’s draw for room assignments.”

  Rachel was the only one of the seven who drew a room by herself. She enjoyed talking to the others but was relieved to have a room alone. Sharing with her competitive sister, Hannah, had been a continual struggle for space. And, after being under constant observation for three years, she treasured her privacy. What would a roommate have thought of her nightmares? She joined the chattering women as they carried their small luggage upstairs.

  “Lucky Rachel,” said Josephine. “You have a room to yourself.”

  Rachel chuckled. “You don’t care, since you asked to share with Ophelia.”

  “That’s true. We lived only a quarter mile apart. We’ve known one another all our lives and are as close as sisters.”

  What a sobering thought. Rachel’s sisters were not companionable. For some reason Hannah, who was only a year younger than her, had always been petty and jealous of Rachel. Her youngest sister, Ruth, was spoiled. Sarah and Ruth made a pair, always up on the latest gossip. Perhaps that’s why Rachel tended to be independent and preferred working to staying at home with her sisters.

  Taking the stairs slowly, Angeline said, “As soon as I find the room I’m in, I’m going to lie down.”

  At the top of the stairs, Lydia gestured to a door. “Josephine and Ophelia are here in the corner room. Angeline and Cassandra are beside them. Rachel, you’re along the hall in the next spot. Lorraine and Prudence, yours is the following one. I’m in the room at the end of the hall past the ballroom. Anytime you have questions and don’t see me, if I’m home I’m usually in the office opening off the downstairs foyer.”

  Josephine carried both her suitcase and Ophelia’s. “What a gorgeous room. I may never come out.”

  Down the hall, Cassandra stood aside to let Angeline enter their assigned spot. “Rachel, we’re neighbors.”

  Rachel scooted around the other woman. “Nice neighborhood, isn’t it?”

  She was pleased with her room assignment. Pale yellow wallpaper had large white fleur-de-lis. White organdy curtains moved with the breeze from two open windows. Covering the bed was a lovely quilt in shades of yellow accented by white, green, and brown. The effect reminded Rachel of a cheerful giant sunflower.

  In addition to the dark walnut four-poster bed, there was a matching armoire, dresser, washstand and an armchair upholstered green moiré. After the long stage coach ride, she longed to crawl into the inviting bed and sleep. Instead, she set her valise on the floor and walked to the window.

  Her view was a formal garden surrounded by a wall. Off to the side was a neat but small home with a gate into the garden. A dark green mountainside climbed upward behind the fence. Not the sort of mountain she’d seen on the trip, but composed of dirt and gravel with shrubs, brush, small trees, and several types of larger plants. Scents of honeysuckle and roses drifted in the windows. She could definitely become used to this.

  After she washed her face and hands, she went downstairs to the parlor.

  Lorraine joined her. “I would love entertaining in this home.”

  Prudence sat on the couch. “I wonder, if I choose an
yone, if he’ll have a nice home?”

  Rachel smiled at the other two. “I didn’t see anything in town to compare with Lydia’s house. But, I don’t need anything fancy. I’m more concerned with whether or not I’ll meet a man I can love.”

  The smiling face of that blond man popped into her mind. What was it about him that drew her? He was handsome, but several of the other men were also. She was eager for an event so she could learn his name and talk to him.

  ***

  The first reception was Saturday afternoon, since that was a time those who lived outside Tarnation came into town for supplies. Rachel learned the mercantile owner would even close his store for an hour so he could attend. Everyone Lydia invited accepted except for the minister.

  The seven women lined up and introduced themselves to each man as he walked down the line.

  Rachel finally met the blond man who attracted her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at his approach. “I’m Rachel Ross.”

  “Welcome to Tarnation, Miss Ross. My name’s Zane Evans and I own the freight office.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Evans.” When he shook her hand, tingles shot up her arm.

  His eyes widened and she wondered if the connection affected him. He held her hand longer than necessary, but she didn’t mind. She watched him move down the line and had to force herself to meet the next man.

  Back to her gregarious self, Rachel flitted from man to man. She caught up with Mr. Evans—she was already thinking of him as Zane—at the refreshment table.

  She took a plate and helped herself to a couple of tiny sandwiches and an oatmeal cookie. “Mrs. Murphy sets an attractive spread, doesn’t she?”

  “That she does, Miss Ross. She’s a great cook and everyone looks forward to an invitation to Mrs. Harrison’s home.”

  She tilted her head to appraise him. “You don’t look like a rancher. What sort of business did you say you’re in?” She took a bite of sandwich and savored the burst of piquant flavor.

  “I have the freight office here.”

  “Where is your business located?” He spoke like an educated man. She wondered where he’d lived before he came to Tarnation, but Lydia had warned that was a question westerners didn’t ask.

  He lifted his cup to indicate the direction. “At the end of town past the church. Have to have room for the mules and horses to graze.”

  “Mules and horses?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Mules can carry more weight further. I bring in the freight from Fort Worth that’s too large for the stage. Some things are mighty heavy.”

  “I can imagine. Um… isn’t your job terribly dangerous?” She pictured robbers along the way, maybe wild Indians.

  He sipped his punch before answering. “No more than the stagecoach. There’s a bit of risk in every job, isn’t there?”

  Recalling her recent experience, Rachel nodded. “And some dangers are not readily apparent.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You sound like a woman who’s met some of those dangers.”

  She took a deep breath and gave him her sauciest smile. “As you said, Mr. Evans, they’re everywhere.”

  “And what are your interests?”

  “I was a bookkeeper in Virginia. I can cook and perform other household duties, but I enjoyed office work more.”

  She thought Zane was going to ask her something but Mr. Tucker interrupted. “You can’t monopolize this pretty lady, Evans.”

  Zane bowed slightly. “I’ll look forward to talking to you again, Miss Ross.” He grinned as he grabbed a couple of cookies then strolled over to speak to the sheriff.

  Later, Rachel helped clean up after the reception. Mrs. Murphy was an excellent cook but had done so much extra. The young women sent the housekeeper to her quarters and took care of righting the kitchen.

  Lorraine nudged Rachel. “Did you choose a man you want to court you?”

  Zane’s handsome face popped into Rachel’s mind. “I enjoyed talking to one man far more than the others, but I have no idea what he thinks of me. Did you find someone?”

  The other woman gave an exasperated sigh. “Sort of. He’s exceedingly stubborn and undervalues a woman’s mind.”

  Rachel grinned at her new friend. “Then you’ll have to educate him.”

  Surprise flitted across the other woman’s face before she set her jaw in a stubborn stance. “You’re right and I intend to do just that.”

  Lorraine and Rachel laughed as they finished putting away the crystal punch cups.

  None of the girls spoke of their reason for joining the group to Texas. Lydia impressed on them that they could volunteer any information they wanted, but no one could ask prying questions. She said many people moved west for a fresh start and the only way for that was in anonymity.

  That news had relieved Rachel. How could she start anew if everyone was aware of her prison time? There would always be those who believed she’d been guilty. In spite of enjoying her time in Lydia’s lovely home, the yearning to have her false conviction overturned and her reputation restored hovered like a dark cloud.

  Chapter Six

  Zane hummed to himself as he walked from Lydia’s home to his. He was grateful he no longer slept in the back of his office. In spite of the fact there were no unmarried young women in Tarnation, he’d built his home with the hope of someday bringing a wife there. Fate had smiled and now there were seven lovely single women here.

  An image popped into his mind of Rachel Ross, the raven-haired beauty he’d met at the reception. Her saucy smile and sparkling brown eyes mesmerized him. Thoughts surfaced that he’d kept at bay for a long time. His expertise with women might be lacking, but he determined to become better acquainted with Rachel Ross.

  Much better.

  He paused to assess his house as a newcomer might—two-stories, white with green shutters, and a wide, covered porch that curved around three sides. Large trees surrounded the home but only scrawny plants grew in flower beds near the house. In time, they’d grow and form a nice hedge. He’d bricked the front walk himself from the porch to the white picket fence.

  Not as nice as Lydia’s by a long shot, but he was proud of his home. He couldn’t help wondering what Rachel would think. She didn’t appear a snobbish woman who would expect luxury. No, she wouldn’t have worked as a bookkeeper if she were that sort.

  Damn that Tucker. Before he’d interrupted, Zane had planned to ask Rachel if she’d be interested in keeping books for him. Not that he couldn’t do the job well himself, but having her in the office would be nice. She’d also be able to give people access to their orders when he was away. He admitted he hated the record-keeping that went with his business.

  He wiped his feet and opened the front door. He paused to inhale. Mmm, that was a good smell. “Mrs. Querado, are you still here?” He followed the aroma to the kitchen.

  “Sí, Señor Evans. I am finishing your supper before I go. My stew includes vegetables.” She shook her finger at him. “You don’t eat enough good food. I’ll bet you filled up on sweets at Mrs. Harrison’s.”

  He grinned. “Guilty as charged, Mrs. Querado. I appreciate the delicious meals you cook as well as how clean the house is after your days here.”

  She sent him a shy smile. “Gracias. Did you meet the woman of your dreams?”

  He rubbed his jaw while he considered her question. “Might have. Guess I’ll learn whether she agrees I’m the man of hers.” He sure hoped Rachel was truly the one for him and vice versa.

  Mrs. Querado took off her apron and hung it in the pantry. “I will hope so. You need a wife in this grand house of yours. Now, I go home. I will be here next week.”

  “Thank you.” He’d left her the pay for today on the foyer table, but he retrieved the cash and handed it to her as he walked her out.

  When Mrs. Querado had gone on her way to the home she shared with her sister, Rosalita, and brother-in-law, Diego Diaz, Zane exhaled and removed his jacket and vest. He’d enjoyed the reception, but was
grateful for the quiet. Next week he had another trip to Fort Worth for freight and supplies. Peace and rest now were welcome.

  Those years he’d spent as a Pinkerton agent, traveling across the country, he’d dreamed of this. A home in a small town with good prospects for growth. He reckoned the railroad would arrive within five years—sooner if the ranchers were successful in their efforts.

  When the railroad came, he wouldn’t have to travel to Fort Worth to get those things people ordered. He had his office and warehouse here and would be able to go home every night. Not that he dreaded the wagon trips he took, but they were not relaxing rides.

  He laughed at himself. Hell, he had to be on guard every second of the trip.

  He hoped he could see Rachel Ross again before he left on Thursday. Perhaps he could talk to her at church tomorrow. While he ate his supper, he considered the places he could take her that would give them a chance to know one another better.

  After church, he’d ask her for a stroll. Maybe he should rent a buggy and take her for a drive. Naw, if he rented the buggy and she said no, he’d look foolish. Better to play this carefully.

  The next morning, he arrived at church the same time as the fire chief, Vernon Lanigan, and his wife Nona.

  Nona chuckled as they climbed the steps behind a crush of people. “I told Vern we should come early. I’ll bet the sanctuary’s already filled.”

  Zane grinned at her. “Not that I doubt our citizens’ piety, but I suspect the record turnout is due to the attendance of the seven prospective brides.”

  Vern chimed in, “Folks are calling them the Bride Brigade.” He guided his wife to a pew.

  Zane tried to get near where Lydia always sat, but he was too late. Apparently every other single man in town had the same idea. Zane was stuck near the back of the sanctuary.

  Led by Lydia, like a bevy of swans the Bride Brigade ladies swam up the center aisle. All eyes were focused on them. What a rainbow palette of colors their swishing skirts created. They filed in and joined Lydia on the pew always reserved for her.

  Reverend Grady McIntyre stood with a welcoming smile. “How nice to see the church filled this morning.” His eyes held mirth as he looked at the young women. “You ladies must be missionaries, for you’ve brought a lot of local heathens in to hear me preach.”

 

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