Indiana Goes West
(Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 1)
Copyright © 2015 Ruth Hartzler
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book may contain references to specific commercial products, process or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and/or trade names of products, which are trademarks or registered trademarks and/or trade names, and these are property of their respective owners. Ruth Hartzler or her associates, have no association with any specific commercial products, process, or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and / or trade names of products.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
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Other books by Ruth Hartzler
About Ruth Hartzler
Chapter 1
The ground was still shaking, and Indiana couldn’t believe it. It felt as if the earthquake had been stretching on for hours, although it had likely only been minutes. She was outside, atop a massive hill, buildings on either side of her. She had rushed out into the street when the ground had begun shaking. She wasn’t the only one with that idea.
Indiana looked down the hill to see people running from their homes. Some appeared to be yelling, but Indiana could not make out what they were saying. It was hard to hear anything other than the sound of falling buildings. Indiana had never imagined that damage had a sound, but now she heard it as buildings crumbled and even exploded. It was as if a war had broken out all around her.
Just then, Indiana heard a loud and terrified neighing coming from behind her. The young woman turned just in time to see a great black stallion bearing down on her, the carriage still attached to him. The carriage was rocking back and forth, two of its four wheels rising into the air before it would rock back the other way and then slam onto the hard dirt of the road.
Indiana jumped out of the way, and the horse and carriage went thundering past her. The horse’s eyes were wide as he struggled to gain purchase on the road, but he finally galloped madly in the direction of safety. Indiana hit the ground hard on her stomach, but rolled to her side out of harm’s way.
Up the street there was a raging explosion. Indiana snapped her head around at the sound. The side of a building blew outward, the chunks of plaster illuminated by orange flames. She climbed to her feet, but soon she was on the ground again, knocked down by a large man in black boots and with a wide brimmed hat.
“Hey!” Indiana said, but the man didn’t stop. She tried to stand again, but there was a swarm of people around her, as strong as a raging river. Every time she was almost up, she was down again. Feet slammed into her side, stepped on her hands. One woman stepped right on her, scrambling over her. Indiana knew she had to get off the street, or at least out of the center of it. The ground was still shaking, and everyone was rushing down the hill to the sea, trying to get out of the still crumbling city.
Indiana began to move on her hands and knees, crawling around the crowd of legs and feet. She reached the side of the road, and pressed herself against a building there, trying to protect her head.
When the crowd thinned somewhat, Indiana stood, bracing herself against the building. She was bruised, and her head was pounding, a sharp pain that she didn’t think would ever subside. She took one tentative step away from the wall just as the ground shook more violently, and the alcove above her crumbled.
Indiana ran. She was shaky on her feet, her vision blurring, the pain in her head making her want to do nothing but lie down and go to sleep. Of course, she realized that wasn’t an option.
Finally, the shaking eased a little, and Indiana found herself halfway down the large hill.
Most of the smoke came from a building that was half in flames. The fire was red and hot and licked up along the side of the wood. The heat was intense.
Indiana took a deep breath, but inhaled smoke, thick and gray, and dirty looking. She coughed, closed her eyes and then opened them, trying to wipe away the blurred vision.
“Come with us,” some passing people called to Indiana, but she shook her head.
“I have to find someone,” she said. And it was true. Even amidst all the excitement and danger, Indiana had been thinking of just one person. She had to find Morgan. She had to make sure he was all right. If he had been killed, as she was sure countless others had been, she didn’t know what she was going to do. The thought of him lying dead somewhere was almost too much to bear. She stood in the street, wondering where he could be. After an interval, she hurried down the street. All around her, the city burned.
Chapter 2
Weeks earlier
Indiana rubbed the dust from the shutters out of her eyes. “I’m sure Mother just wanted us out of the way while she organizes her dinner with Mr. Walton. Now stand still! Your shawl’s covered in dust.”
Montana fidgeted while Indiana dusted her down. “I hope you’re right,” she muttered between coughs.
The sisters were on their way home to their mansion on Nob Hill. When they reached the bank corner, Indiana saw an elderly man sitting on the pavement. The man stood at their approach, and asked Indiana for money. Indiana at once obliged. The elderly man thanked her profusely and hurried away.
Montana gasped in shock. “Indiana, what have you done?”
Indiana at once tried to reassure her younger sister. “Don’t worry about it.” A breeze stirred and lifted a little pile of dust. Indiana, distracted for a moment, watched as it eddied upward, and then was suddenly uneasy, as her gaze led her to a man standing under an awning. He was well dressed and very handsome, and what’s more, he was staring straight at her. “Who’s that man, Montana? I haven’t seen him around here before.”
Montana looked around. “What man? Where?”
“Shush.” Indiana looked again, intending to nod covertly in the man’s direction, but the man wasn’t there. “Never mind. Perhaps I imagined him.”
Montana giggled. “Imagining men isn’t good. Speaking of men, I hope Mr. Morgan Chase comes to dinner this evening.”
“Morgan Chase?” Indiana slowed her pace.
Montana took Indiana by the arm and swung her to face her, while at the same time waving away the disappointed store keeper who had approached them. “Haven�
�t you listened to a word I’ve said?” she said in lowered tones. “Take my advice and bat your eyelids at Morgan, or Mother will have you married off to that horrible Mr. Hollway before you know it.”
Indiana groaned. Mr. Cade Hollway, a wealthy rancher from Texas, had put an advertisement in the San Francisco edition of the Matrimonial News. Much to Indiana’s horror, her mother had responded to the ad, offering Indiana as a wife to Cade. Indiana, however, had not known anything of the matter until her mother had made the arrangements. Indiana had flatly refused to board the train for Texas, and so her mother had invited Cade to come to San Francisco to fetch Indiana.
Mr. Cade Hollway had a rough manner, and was possessed of no social niceties. He was at least twenty years older than she was, she figured, and she could already tell that he had a temper. There was not one redeeming point about the unpleasant Mr. Hollway, no matter which way Indiana looked at it. She figured that her mother liked him simply as he was wealthy.
Indiana stomped her foot. “Father wouldn’t have made me marry!”
“Father’s not here, is he?” Montana, as always, was straight to the point. “Mother can do whatever she likes. Of course, the only reason Mother’s looking for husbands for us is because Father died. We don’t have any brothers, so Father’s whole inheritance has gone to our male cousins. That’s why we’re in this mess. If you want to marry for love, you’ll better hurry and find someone before you go back with Mr. Hollway to his ranch.”
Indiana made to protest, but then pondered Montana’s words. It weighed heavily on her heart that her mother was pressuring her to marry Cade Hollway. What if she could find a man she was attracted to? Then her marriage problems would be solved, and she would be rid of the terrible Cade once and for all. “I’d have to act quickly,” Indiana said to herself, but aloud.
Montana was clearly puzzled. “What are you talking about, Indiana?”
Indiana ignored the question, as another thought occurred to her. “If this Mr. Morgan Chase is so good, why don’t you want him for yourself?”
“I have my reasons.” Montana shrugged her shoulders, and then added, “He’s good looking, tall, and of course, Father’s old friend Charles Walton is his uncle.”
Indiana smiled to herself. “Aha! You don’t want Mr. Chase because you have a crush on someone else! Who is it?”
Montana’s face showed her exasperation. “Oh, stop jumping to conclusions, Indiana. Mr. Chase is very wealthy, and he owns a lot of land in Wyoming. Besides, who would you rather have, him or Mr. Hollway?”
Indiana gave a little shudder of distaste. “Since you put it that way, but there must be something wrong with him.” Ignoring Montana’s annoyed look, Indiana continued, “And even if there isn’t, he might not be attracted to me.”
Montana dismissed the remark with a wave of her hand. “Men are always attracted to you, Indiana.”
* * *
Mr. Morgan Chase stood in the shade, watching the beautiful lady give money to the beggar. What’s more, she appeared to give without any hesitation, he thought. Perhaps San Francisco isn’t such a bad place after all, if at least one wealthy person here is so generous to the poor.
Morgan walked on. That young lady is the only generous person I’ve seen since my arrival, he thought. She’s not only generous, she’s beautiful.
Chapter 3
Indiana’s youngest sister, Leah, met Indiana and Montana at the entrance to their house, a lavish mansion on Nob Hill.
“Mother’s in an unpleasant mood,” Leah whispered in warning.
The sound of shouting emanated from the sumptuous reception room. “I’m not paying that amount. This is extortion!”
Three men hurried out of the house, their faces red. They were followed by the sisters’ mother, Mrs. Deborah White. Her face was likewise red. She turned to face the sisters. “Can you believe that? The plastering work they did on the cellar cracked in the latest tremor, and now they want to charge an even larger sum than last time to repair it. No one can afford those prices! Well, your cousins will have to pay for it. The house is no longer my responsibility.” Deborah snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Indiana, where’s my crystal decanter?”
Indiana’s voice trembled, despite her earlier daring. “The store is closed today, but I can send a maid to get the decanter tomorrow.”
Deborah waved her hands in the air. “What did you say, Indiana? Closed? Does the store have tremor damage, too? Besides, we only have one maid left—Misty!” Her voice rose to a high pitch.
Indiana shook her head. “No, Mother, there was no sign saying any such thing.”
Deborah’s expression blackened, and she stormed out of the room.
At that very moment, the house entrance was rocked by a tremor. The three girls clutched at each other, wondering if it would worsen, but to their relief it did not. Indiana stared at the Italianate marble floors, and watched with horror as tiny, hairline cracks appeared.
Indiana was used to tremors, but this was the first time she had seen one cause damage to the foyer. As the shuddering lessened, Indiana let out a sigh of relief and relaxed her grip on her sisters. “They’re getting more frequent, I’m sure. They’re lasting much longer than in past years, too.”
Montana nodded in agreement.
Leah gasped and pointed to the corner of the room, in which stood a large Iron Fiske fountain adorned by acanthus leaves in a circular design, along with representations of birds and arabesques. The water, which usually flowed nicely out of the mouth of a statue of a crane, had stopped, and for a time dribbled brown water before bubbling back to its usual state of crystal clear water. “Did you see that? The water stopped just then.”
“It is quite strange, Leah,” Indiana said. “Has anyone seen Misty? Oh, there you are.”
Misty, Indiana’s maid and close friend, appeared from the kitchens where she had been giving instructions on behalf of Mrs. White.
Indiana signaled to her. “Misty, let’s go to town.”
Misty nodded agreement, and the two set off. Indiana’s thoughts soon drifted back to marriage. Was it possible she could escape marriage to Mr. Hollway? She shook her head. There was no way she would ever grow to love Mr. Hollway, not in a million years. What’s more, Indiana had always yearned for a marriage full of love, love right from the start. She didn’t relish the idea of having to grow to love someone. I wish I wasn’t such a hopeless romantic, she thought.
“Miss Indiana, did you hear what I said?” Misty’s tone was insistent.
Misty’s voice snapped Indiana back to reality. “Sorry? No, what did you say?”
Misty sighed. “I said, have you noticed that the sea seems far more choppy than usual?”
“Oh no, I actually hadn’t taken any notice.” Indiana stopped and the two women looked toward the bay. “Now that you mention it, it does look, well, kind of angry.”
“That’s what I thought.” Misty’s voice held a note of fear.
Chapter 4
“My dear Charles.” Deborah was gushing as Misty showed Mr. Charles Walton into the spacious and elaborately decorated front room of the mansion. “And this must be Mr. Chase.”
Montana nudged Indiana in the arm and raised her eyebrows. “Well?” she whispered.
Indiana had a good chance to study Morgan Chase as he was standing at an angle to her, not looking directly at her. He was tall, a little older than she had expected, and very handsome indeed with his fine looking face and broad shoulders. He looked rugged in an attractive way, and certainly far better than the horrid Cade Hollway who leered at her at every opportunity.
Mr. Morgan Chase seemed familiar, but Indiana would have remembered a man as handsome as he. He did, however, look very much like the man she had seen earlier that day, but she dismissed that thought as a fanciful notion.
Montana caught Indiana’s eye. Indiana nodded at Montana, who winked at her.
When Deborah introduced Morgan to her daughters, Indiana took shallow breaths as sti
rring tingles coursed through her body. Her mind went blank and she stammered a greeting. He must think I’m a complete fool, she thought. I’ve made the worst first impression.
Indiana was saved further embarrassment as Misty, who due to the family’s financial circumstances was acting now as the butler as well, showed the guests through the courtly rooms into the dining room which overlooked the garden courtyard. The heady scents of lily, rose, myrtle, myrrh, and laurel wafted into the dining room, as did the herbal scents of rosemary, basil, chamomile, and thyme. The sound of water tinkling from the elaborate fountain adorned with sculptures of flowers and doves added to the dining experience. However, the pleasant sounds of the fountain were shattered at intervals by the piercing shrieks of peacocks, which Indiana’s parents had imported from the Near East.
Everyone took their seats at the massive mahogany dining table, while Deborah signaled the cook to serve dinner. Indiana had lost her appetite and toyed with her apricot starter while Deborah and Charles Walton, a close friend of her father’s, discussed politics and cattle.
Indiana cast sidelong glances at Morgan, who did not notice, as he appeared to be in deep concentration, making political remarks from time to time. He was most fine-looking, and the deep tone of his voice was very attractive indeed. Indiana hoped Morgan would speak more so she could listen to the sound of his voice.
After her guests had left, Deborah took Indiana by the arm. “My dear, I know I wanted a match for you with Mr. Hollway, but I think Mr. Chase would be more suited. With Charles as a business partner, he’s ideal, as well as being well politically connected. Charles informs me that Mr. Chase is a very wealthy land owner.”
In spite of herself, Indiana blurted out, “So Mr. Chase is not betrothed?”
Deborah’s temper had returned. “Of course not, you silly girl, or I wouldn’t be making such a suggestion. Now off you go to bed.”
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