by Jenna Brandt
She could still remember the words of Mr. Cassidy’s advert in the newspaper. Needed, Wife. South Dakota widower seeks a kind, faithful woman to run his household on his farm, to support his work, and rear his three children. Due to conditions in the rural area, only a strong, diligent woman of fortitude and grit need reply.
Cara should have dismissed it out of hand, considering she had no business doing any of the work he required, but something about the unspoken plea in the request pulled at Cara’s heart. She needed a new life, and she could help this man while gaining one. What could it hurt to answer?
Two letters and a month later, she was headed out West with only two bags, and her gumption to make the marriage work. She hoped she was able to live up to her new family’s expectations, though she had little experience in running a household or mothering children. Her best example was her own mother, who had been loving, helpful, and always there for her. She hoped to provide the same care for her new wards. She was resolved to be the best match for Mr. Cassidy, rather than just a misfit for his family.
Deciding she could use some air, Cara stood from her seat in the car she shared with a family and a widow traveling to Oregon. She slipped the letter into her pocket, and made her way towards the back of the train. She was about to exit through the back door, when a man came up and blocked her path.
“Why aren’t you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” the man said with a wag of his eyebrows. He reached out and grabbed a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. “I’ve always had an inkling for redheads.”
She shrank back, not liking how close the man was, or the fact he felt justified enough to touch her. “I’ll just be going now,” she said, trying to push past him to return from the way she came.
Putting out his arm to block her path, he observed, “I thought you were headed to the back of the train? No one’s around by the way, so we have the whole section to ourselves.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Cara declared, raising her chin in defiance, while trying to muster her bravest face.
“You needn’t hurry off on my account,” the man said, leaning in towards her until she could smell the repugnant odor of liquor on his breath. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Well, I don’t,” she stated tartly. “I have people waiting for me back in my car.”
“I don’t think so, missy. I’ve been watching you for a while, and you’re traveling alone. Ain’t no one worrying about your whereabouts. I doubt anyone would care what happens to you,” he snarled, pushing his body against hers as his hand started to roam all over her body.
“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, squirming against him in anger. “Get your hands off me.”
“Did I tell you, that’s my favorite part about redheads? Nothin’ more appealin’ than a redhead’s temper. I love it when they get all feisty,” he said with a leering grin of pleasure.
Cara froze, realizing that this man wanted her to fight him. It made him excited, and that was the last thing she wanted to encourage.
As she stood perfectly still, she slowly moved her hand down her side. She finally reached the strap inside the hidden insert of her pocket where she carried a small knife. She whipped it out as fast she could, pushing it towards the man’s chest.
“If you don’t get away from me right now, I’m going to make you a new hole.”
The man’s eyes grew wide in shock for a few moments before he narrowed them in anger. “Are you sure you can use that knife, missy? I’m bettin’ you’ve never stabbed a man. It’s messy, with a lot of blood.” He reached out and tried to grab the knife from her, but she dodged his reach.
“It’s better than the alternative,” she shouted. “I won’t have you ruin me.”
“Can’t ruin something that’s already tarnished,” he barked out. “You wouldn’t be traveling all alone if you were a good woman.”
The man lunged at her again. This time his hand made contact with hers, causing them to wrestle for control of the knife. She was about to lose her grip on the hilt when a group of miners entered the car.
“What’s going on here?” one of the men shouted with a look of shock on his face.
Her attacker looked fearful for the briefest of moments before he accused, “This thief tried to rob me. I was coming out back to get some air, when she tried to pickpocket me. When I confronted her, she pulled a knife on me.”
“That’s not what happened,” Cara protested. “I was the one coming out back to get air when he accosted me. He had vile intentions, so I had to pull my knife to protect myself.”
“What respectable woman would need to carry a knife around?” the attacker countered. “Only someone who has a devious nature.”
“I’m traveling alone, so I brought one of my father’s knives along for protection,” Cara said, trying to explain away how bad the situation looked on her part.
She could tell from the miners’ looks, they doubted her story, and her explanation sounded ridiculous even to her own ears.
“Perhaps one of us should go get the conductor to sort this matter out,” a second man suggested.
“I think that’s a good idea. I would like to tell him all about how this thief behaved,” her attacker stated with confidence. “She’ll hang for trying to kill me. I’ll make sure of it.”
A shiver crawled up Cara’s back as she realized this man wanted to make her pay for not getting his way with her. If she didn’t escape right now, she was going to end up dangling from a hangman’s noose. Glancing out the window, she realized they were slowing down as they approached a set of curves on the rail line. If she jumped off the train now, she’d only suffer a few bumps and bruises, a much better alternative.
Without another thought, Cara turned and rushed towards the door. She swung it open, and flung herself through it. For just a split second, she paused as she came to the edge of the iron railing. Knowing she had no choice, she climbed over and threw herself from the side.
The left side of her body met the ground with a hard thud, right before she started rolling down the small hill. She could feel the dirt and rocks tearing at her flesh; however, she made herself ignore the pain and focus on getting as far away from the train as possible. If she got arrested, it would end badly for her. No one at home would vouch for her, considering her family’s history, and some would even say that it made sense that she turned out just like her father. She would be assumed guilty simply because of her family’s past.
The shouts of the men from the train echoed around Cara as she rushed along the bank of the James River. Slowly, they faded as she slipped away into her surroundings, praying she would find some way to survive out in the frontier wilderness.
Sneak Peak of Lawfully Loved
Late Spring of 1877
Outskirts of Abilene, Texas
The sun was stretched low across the late-day sky as Deputy Sheriff Jake Bolton pushed his horse through the prairie flats. A herd of Texas longhorns grazed on the thick fields of golden grass along the road as Jake galloped past the livestock.
He heard the screeching sound of a bird above, causing him to raise his hand over his brow to scan the horizon for the creature. Just as he located the white-tailed hawk, it swooped down and snatched up a small creature from the ground. Such was the cycle of life in the rural Texas countryside.
In his head, Jake went over the details of the investigation he was working on which brought him to the outlying small towns that dotted the northeast corner of Taylor County. The third general store in two weeks had been robbed by the infamous Grimes Brothers.
Jake was tasked with following up the newest lead after a local stagecoach company out of Woody, Texas telegraphed the sheriff’s office. One of the drivers had seen two men fitting their descriptions on the road between Woody and Rockwood Springs. The brothers were armed and dangerous, and Jake wanted nothing more than to free the county of their threat.
In the distance, clouds were rolli
ng into sight and the smell of rain was in the air. It wasn’t surprising since sporadic showers were common during this time of year. He needed to get to Woody before the sun set and he got caught in the downpour.
Exhausted from a long day of work, Rebecca Caldwell used the sleeve of her blue calico dress to wipe the sweat from her brow; grateful to be finishing up the last of the outside chores. She still needed to prepare dinner for the family, but at least she would be inside before the rain started.
After pulling the last shirt from the clothesline, she pushed several blonde curls out of her face which had come loose from her bun while she worked.
Rebecca made her way around the side of the farmhouse which sat on the same property as the family business—the local livery. As she entered the barn-like structure, she looked around and located her father in front of one of the stalls.
“Father, I’m done working outside and wanted to let you know dinner will be ready in about an hour.”
Although brilliant with a horse, Mr. Caldwell often got lost in his thoughts while working with them. He needed constant reminding to finish up his work on time as he often forgot to come in for meals.
The middle-aged, thin man with peppered brown hair and blue eyes— the same color as Rebecca’s—glanced up from combing down the colt he had been training all day. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll make sure to not forget this time.”
With a nod of her head, Rebecca turned around and moved towards the house. She saw her younger sister, Lydia, run past, and a few moments later, her younger brother, Georgie, chase after, calling, “You better find a good hiding place; I’m gonna find you.”
Rebecca smiled to herself at the cuteness of her siblings. Lydia was like a miniature version of Rebecca with her curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Being only ten, she still loved dolls and playing games with the local children. Georgie was sandwiched between them at the age of fourteen and was a rascal at heart. He was getting to the age where he was playing less and noticing girls more, but every once in a while, Lydia could still talk him into playing with her.
As she heard Georgie stomping around the yard looking for Lydia, she reminisced on a time—years ago—when she was able to be carefree like that. She had been forced to grow up quickly when her mother’s condition worsened. Rebecca had to take over running the family home and caring for her siblings. She justified her lost childhood as preparation for married life; it would make her a better candidate for a wife.
Although not of spinster age at twenty-one, Rebecca knew it was time for her to start considering finding a husband. Life was hard on the Texas prairie and she needed a man to protect her when her father was no longer able to do so. She wanted to marry for love, but the practicality of finding it was not wasted on her. She knew there was a real possibility she might have to settle for a relationship built solitarily on friendship.
As Rebecca climbed the back steps of the house, she heard her brother and sister laugh with merriment. Apparently, Georgie had found Lydia after all. Rebecca made her way into the kitchen where she pulled out several pots and pans to start the evening meal.
The wind howled in Jake’s ear as it raced along the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. He had hoped to make it to Woody before the onslaught, but the clouds had other ideas. Jake pulled the rim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the frigid rain pelting his body.
Jake tightened his grip on the reins to his brown and white paint horse, Ginger, as he pulled her to a stop. Up ahead, the rain had washed out part of the road.
With a heavy sigh, he debated what to do. If he backtracked in order to find a route that bypassed that section of the road, it would delay his arrival in Woody by at least a half day. Should he brave it by trying to cross the muddy area?
Deciding it would be better to take his chances, Jake prodded Ginger forward, gently pushing his spurs into the horse’s side. Usually an obedient horse, it surprised Jake when she sidestepped and hesitated. Did his horse sense something Jake couldn’t see?
With a scan of the area, Jake resolved going ahead was still the best option. Jumping down from his horse, he guided Ginger through the murky water. Coaxing her, he said, “Come on, girl, just a little further. I promise you some primo hay and maybe even a sugar cube or two if you get us safely to Woody by nightfall.”
Reluctantly, the horse complied and started to walk along the road behind Jake. The further they traveled, the deeper the mud got until both of them were finding it difficult to move.
Just as Jake worried they would become stuck, a lightning bolt came crashing down right in front of them. Neighing in fear, Ginger reared up causing Jake to be knocked down. With a hard thud, he pummeled to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs.
The mud sloshed around him, pulling his body deep into its thick grasp. Jake blinked once, twice, three times before he tried to sit up from the murky ground. A sharp pain radiated up his abdomen. Recognizing the feeling, he knew the fall had earned him a set of bruised ribs.
With concerted effort, Jake climbed to his feet. As he turned to find Ginger, his eyes grew round with concern. The horse was whimpering and she wasn’t placing weight on her right leg. Jake moved towards her and gently lifted the leg from the muddy water. There was a huge crack on her hoof as well as a deep gash at the first joint. What could have caused such a horrific injury?
He placed his hand into the mud. Below the surface, he felt the edge of something rough and hard. Although he couldn’t see it, he was certain it was a large rock, most likely brought down by a mudslide from a nearby hill.
Jake reached out and took Ginger’s muzzle into his hands. He leaned his face against hers and whispered, “It’s all right, girl. You did the best you could. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”
With deep regret, Jake contemplated what to do. When a horse broke its leg, there was only one thing to do, but he hoped it wasn’t the case.
He tried to swallow the lump of pain in his throat. Ginger was the last connection to his past; a gift from his wife, Marjorie, during their final Christmas together. She had saved up money to purchase the horse for two years, washing laundry at the Abilene Inn.
Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the air for just a moment. Not far off in the distance, Jake saw the flickering gas lights of a small town. Maybe Ginger could make it to Rockwood Springs—which was closer than Woody—if he helped her stay off the leg.
As he ran his hand through his hair, he sighed. With a heavy heart, he removed the saddle and attached bag from Ginger to make her load lighter. With determined resolve, he started the walk to Rockwood Springs with Ginger beside him.
Grab your copy of Lawfully Loved.
A Note from the Author
I hope you have enjoyed Mail Order Miriam, and plan to read my first book, Mail Order Miranda, in the Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies series. You can also continue to read my other historical series such as Mail Order Mix-up which starts with Mail Order Misfit. Also, if you would like to find out how Rebecca and Jake, Abigail and Levi, Naomi and Emmett, and Judy and Paul, all end up together, check out my lawkeeper series. You can grab all of them in my Historical Lawkeeper box set which gives you the entire collection at a significantly reduced price or grab any of them off my Amazon author page.
Your opinion and support matters, so I would greatly appreciate you taking the time to leave a review. Without dedicated readers, a storyteller is lost. Thank you for investing in my stories. If you would like more info, please join my newsletter and get a free novella and short story just for signing up for my Newsletter.
Also by Jenna Brandt
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