The Devil's Bride

by A. S. McGowan

  “Mr. O'Brian, thank you so much for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight.” A voice behind him broke into his private musings.

  "Mr. Washington, I presume," he said as he turned to face the voice behind him and saw a short, overweight, middle-aged man standing just inside the sitting room. Stepping forward, he offered his hand and was rewarded with a firm grip.

  "You presume correctly. Would you like a drink?" Mr. Washington moved toward the side table and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Bourbon, one of my favorites." He held his glass up in a type of salute.

  "Yes, please." He took the glass offered and took a sip. The liquid burned all the way down. Nodding appreciatively, he smiled at his host. "Very smooth."

  "So, Dr. O'Brian, how are you liking our small village?" Moving to sit in a dark green, high-backed chair, he motioned for Matthew to take the other one.

  "I am finding it to be very peaceful," Matthew said as he took the offered seat.

  They sat enjoying their bourbon and engaged in idle chitchat until a maid entered and announced dinner was ready to be served in the dining room. Rising, Matthew followed his host to the large dining room. A long, thick oak table took up the center of the room. His host took his seat at the head of the table and motioned for Matthew to take the seat to his left. When his host had seated himself, Matthew followed suit. He watched as Mr. Washington glanced about as if something were amiss. Curious, he looked around. Within a few minutes, a very lovely young woman came rushing into the room. Mr. Washington and Matthew rose quickly.

  "I am so sorry, please forgive my tardiness." A blush crept up her pale face. Giving a slight bow of her head, she took her seat to the right of Mr. Washington.

  "Dr. O'Brian, this is my daughter Amelia. Amelia, this is the new doctor in town," Mr. Washington said as both men took their seats.

  "It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Matthew said.

  "Yes, a pleasure to meet you as well, Dr. O'Brian." Her voice dripped like honey and her blonde curls bounced around her head.

  Matthew hoped that his host had not invited him here to play matchmaker. He had no intentions of becoming any woman's husband. Aside from his mother and his two amazing sisters-in-law, he knew women were trouble, more trouble than he intended to deal with. Looking at her, he could tell that most men would be more than willing to marry a woman as lovely as her. Sadly, he had seen to many men marry because a woman was lovely and not take the time to see the true person who lurked under the surface. He didn't care what was under Amelia's surface, he had no intentions of getting to know her.

  The maid from earlier came in, serving an amazing smelling steak. Taking one from the tray, she placed one on Mr. Washington's plate, then Amelia's, then his. He could see it was still sizzling. It smelled amazing and he couldn't wait to satisfy the watering of his mouth. Within minutes, the maid returned and scooped mashed potatoes onto each of their plates. Forking up a bite, he was stunned when he realized he had moaned out loud.

  "The cook is amazing, isn't she?" Mr. Washington asked before taking a sip of his wine.

  "Yes, I must admit, I thought our cook back home was good, but yours has done something with these potatoes that I haven't experience before."

  "She puts fresh cream in them while she is mashing them," Amelia informed him.

  "I must write back home and suggest the cook try that. I am sure my mother would love the taste of these."

  "So, Dr. O'Brian, do you have a woman waiting for you back in Chicago?" Mr. Washington asked.

  Matthew was taken aback by such a forward question. It took him a minute to gain his wits about him. "No, sir. No woman waiting for me." He saw Mr. Washington smile and realized his assumptions earlier were correct. He watched Amelia smile around her fork as she took a bite of her steak. "I actually have no intentions of marrying, sir." He hoped that would nip this little scheme in the bud.

  "No intention of marrying? Son, a man needs woman at home to make his house a home," Mr. Washington said.

  "For some men, yes. I, however, do not want the trouble they bring." He watched as Amelia's lovely face scrunched up. It transformed her lovely features and reminded Matthew of the stories his mother had told him of the creatures who lived in the forests of Ireland.

  They retired back in the sitting room for coffee after dinner. Amelia sat at the piano and entertained them with lovely music. She was very skilled and played several difficult pieces, which impressed Matthew. After playing several pieces, she rose and sat on the sofa and worked on her knitting while the men talked about Mr. Washington’s plans for the town. Occasionally, Matthew would offer up his opinion on different aspects. Before long, the talks turned to the war that was raging.

  "Being a Yankee, you one of those pro Union bastards?" Mr. Washington asked after a bit.

  "Sir, I am a doctor. Nothing more, nothing less. No sides, just caring for sick people on either side," Matthew said.

  "Good. Good. Make sure you keep it that way. Things won't be pleasant for you if you are found trying to be a spy for those Yankee soldiers out there in that ugly fort of theirs." Mr. Washington rose and fixed himself another drink.

  Matthew knew of the fort his host spoke of that was built by the Union Army. Conversing a bit more about the people's hatred of the Union Army being in the area, Matthew finally rose and bid his host and Amelia a good night. His host summoned an employee and requested that Matthew be provided a ride home. He was grateful for the ride home and once there, made his way inside. The noise from the saloon penetrated through the walls and ensured Matthew would have a fitful time sleeping tonight. Upstairs in his private quarters, he undressed and climbed into bed. Placing the pillow over his head, he tried to mute the noises. Tossing to his side, he held the pillow tightly over his head. He tossed and turned a bit more before he gave up and went in search of a drink.

  Chapter 4

  Matthew had been in town for a week and felt like he was settling in nicely. He had been invited to church a time or two, but he always politely refused. However, the man who made all this possible for him gently reminded him that attending services was something the folks here took very seriously. So, if he wished to win the trust of the good townsfolk, he needed to make his appearance. So, here he was, dressed in his best suit, sitting in his wagon outside the white clapboard building. He would attend services and the potluck lunch afterward. Then, he would pray his rosary alone.

  Men and women walked toward the front door. A few he had met already, offered a quick wave of greeting. He waved back as he climbed down from the wagon. Walking up, he stopped to chat with a group of men he had briefly met during his week here. Not far away, a group of children played a noisy game of tag. Running and squealing, they occasionally were corrected by their parents on maintaining a more appropriate level of sound. He smiled, remembering the nuns correcting him and his brothers when they were younger. So many Sunday mass services seen him and his brothers bouncing and disruptive while waiting for services to begin.

  He sat through the service and noted that it wasn't at all what he thought it would be like. The message was basically the same, just the delivery was different. When the final prayer was said and the congregation dismissed, he rose from the pew and stretched his muscles. There was a room off the main room where the potluck was being held. He followed several church members through the door and saw Amelia standing behind a food-laden table. She was smiling as she helped serve up the food.

  He filed into line and was handed a plate by a church member, who gave him a beaming smile. He nodded as he shuffled forward up to the first station where he found fresh, buttery bread, still steaming. He passed trays with cooked vegetables and meats, and he never pulled his plate from the line, accepting all that was to be offered. He made it to the final table and locked eyes with Amelia, as she kept her gaze on his all while spooning out the food. Stepping up to the table, he held out his plate. He noticed she wore a fancy blue dress with a high lace neckline. It was hard not to notice
her when she stood out against the more plainly dressed women in the room. When he was in front of her, she smiled a greeting as she spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate.

  "Just the way you like them, Dr. O'Brian."

  "Thank you," he said. The flirtatious twinkle in her eyes was not lost on him. With an inward groan, he continued through the line. With his plate full, he scanned the room for a place to sit. Mr. Washington waved him over. Grateful for an invite to sit, he weaved through the tables. He saw Sarah and the other women from the boarding house sitting at a table near where Mr. Washington was seated. Walking past the women, he offered a simple greeting before taking a seat across from Mr. Washington.

  "So how are you settling in?"

  "It has been a great week."

  "Well, I am glad you decided to take my advice and attend services."

  "Yes, I can see your point, and I am glad I came."

  The conversation ended as they began to dig into their food. Around them, he could hear bits and pieces of conversations at other tables. He knew he could make a life here and this town could become his new home. These people his new community. A commotion had him turning around. The grizzly old mountain man he remembered from the stagecoach was standing in the doorway. Several men had risen from their seats and watched the man.

  Eyes darting around, the man's eyes landed on Mr. Washington. "I see they let the devil sit in the house of the Lord around here."

  "Jacob, I think you need to leave," Reverend Mitchell said as he made his way toward Jacob.

  "So, the good reverend don't want me in here, but the devil may dine?"

  "Jacob, why don't you leave before you upset the women," Mr. Washington said as he rose from his chair.

  "Upset the women?" Jacob snorted then leveled his gaze on Sarah. "The devil and his whores are welcome, but I am the one to upset the women. Nah, I bet the wives finding out the women at the boarding house are whores at the saloon servicing their husbands would be upsetting."

  "That is enough. You apologize to those good women right now," Reverend Mitchell demanded.

  "I am sorry, ladies, that you are working for the devil in his house of ill repute." Jacob turned and stormed back out of the room.

  Voices erupted with everyone talking at once. Sarah stood and ran from the room, and several women's eyes turned toward her. Matthew knew that the accusations made by Jacob would cause her trouble. Standing, he went to find her, though didn't have to look far. He found her sitting in a pew, her lovely head bowed as if in prayer. Taking a seat next to her, he waited for her to look at him. When she did, his heart sank. Tears streaked her lovely face.

  "He seems a very disturbed old man. Don't let his ramblings upset you."

  "No one is going to forget what he said. We are judged now by those words."

  "If I am to venture a guess, no one will give any credit to him."

  "The women in there will give a lot of credit to him because it gives them something to break up the dullness of their lives. They feed on gossip."

  Matthew knew all about the way women gossiped. He had also seen firsthand how that kind of gossip could harm a woman's reputation. Jacob must surely hate Mr. Washington something awful to do such damage to the women at the boarding house. Every community had its crazy person. Back home, it was crazy Mabel. Here, it seemed Jacob would carry that title, with pride at that. He stayed sitting next to her, allowing his presence to hopefully offer her comfort. It wasn't long before the women from the boarding house came and collected her to go home. Even after she was gone, he sat and stared toward the pulpit. Hopefully, the damage to Sarah and the other women at the boarding house was minimal despite Jacob's harsh words.

  Chapter 5

  Sarah sat painting her face for work that Monday night. She worried that Jacob's outburst at the church yesterday would out all of them. None of the good women of this town would enter the saloon, but all it took was one man to talk and Jacob's accusations would gain a little more credit. She didn’t want anyone in this town to know the truth about the boarding house. She liked being able to walk down the wooden sidewalks with her head held high. Until now, she could go into one of the businesses and be treated with dignity and respect. That would end once the gossiping started. Her stomach tied in knots as she finished painting her lips.

  With her hand poised to tend to her hair, she closed her eyes and thought of the events that brought her here. Orphaned, scared, and alone. Scurrying on the streets like a rat, rummaging for food in the darkness, she was beyond desperate. She knew danger lurked on the streets, and that her luck would only take her so far. And when she saw the newspaper fluttering along the street that day, she merely picked it up out of habit, not expecting to find anything worth a second glance. Never had she seen personal advertisements in the newspaper before, and when she saw an advertisement looking for a woman to take care of a lonely man, she knew she had nothing to lose.

  If only I could go back and never answer that ad . . ..

  She penned a letter to a Mr. Clyde Washington, and never expected for a response, let alone a carriage to collect her only days later. A penned letter in handsome lettering accompanied the carriage, letting her know to not worry about her things, they would be collected later and whatever she needed would be provided.

  When she met her soon-to-be-husband, she was swept off her feet. He was a handsome man, kind and attentive. He spoiled her with a fine dress for an equally fine meal that first night. At the end of the night, after a chaste kiss was shared, he asked if she would be his bride. Taking a chance on her luck, she agreed—foolish, in hindsight.

  I was such a stupid, stupid girl.

  The moment she agreed, Clyde grabbed her roughly and tossed her into an awaiting carriage. Confused, she called out to him, using his given name. “Clyde?”

  He turned to her and sneered, “You will address me as Mr. Washington, whore.”

  She cried and asked why he was not coming with her. She didn’t understand why he would change and turn so terribly. He laughed and joined her in the carriage. As they moved, he explained that she was now his property, and that she would live in the boarding house that loomed ahead with his other girls, making him a wage with the saloon patrons. As the carriage stopped, she turned to run, to flee and reclaim her life before it was too late. But Mr. Washington was cruel and far quicker. He grabbed her, threatened her life with a gun he kept holstered, and proceeded to beat her way into the boarding house. As he threw her into a room shared by four other girls—all wide-eyed in terror—he reminded her if she left, she would have no life for he would find her and end it before she even left town.

  Picking up her headpiece, she secured it in her hair. The three colorful feathers stood up at the crown of her head. She didn't recognize herself in the mirror—she never did on the nights she worked. Her dreams of one day being a wife and mother were long gone. Mr. Washington had seen to that once she arrived in town. The same way he had the other women who he tricked with his false advertising. How foolish she had been to answer the advertisement in the paper for a wife. A well-to-do man was seeking a good, God fearing woman for marriage. What a bunch of lies. By time she figured out what the man had in mind for her, it was too late. Her sins would be punished night after night, at the hands of the various men who sought a fallen lady for the night.

  "Sarah, it is time to go." Mary, another woman trapped here at the boarding house, stuck her head into the room.

  Squaring her shoulders, Sarah followed Mary downstairs and to the waiting carriage. It was a Monday night, so things would be slow at the saloon. Some of the regulars would be there playing cards and drinking whiskey. If she was lucky, none of the men would require her companionship upstairs in one of the several private rooms. She thought about how kind the new doctor was to her at church. Her heart ached at the thought that he wouldn't be so kind once he figured out the truth about her. The previous doctor had been kind too, but his kindness ended when he learned the truth . . . it always
did.

  Entering through the back door, they had no sooner made it to the main room of the saloon when a heavy-set man in a sweat-stained blue shirt grabbed Lucy's arm. Sarah locked eyes with him for a brief second. Turning away, a shiver ran down her spine. The man was pure evil. It radiated from his small, dark eyes. Settling herself at the bar, she glanced over in time to see Lucy's frightened face as the man led her up the stairs. Sarah hoped he would be satisfied with one round with just one girl. She hated the nights when a man would be in need of more than one girl could handle.

  She picked up her drink and downed it in one gulp. The liquid burned all the way down into her gut. With a nod, she signaled the bartender to pour her another. Sipping this one more slowly, she eyed the room. Other than the cruel looking, heavy-set man, the rest were regulars. Mostly they would drink and play cards. She sent a silent prayer that it was all they wanted tonight.

  The next thirty minutes or so, Sarah spent time serving drinks and smiling at the men along with the rest of the girls. All in all, it was the quiet night she had prayed for. Looking around, she noticed that Lucy had not returned from upstairs. With a slight shake of her head, she made her way back to the bar to grab another tray of drinks for the card players. She had just turned to carry the tray back when an ear-piercing scream filled the room.

  Glass shattered. The amber liquid splashed up onto her leather boots.