The Devil's Bride

by A. S. McGowan

  "So, what is the news?"

  "It took John some digging, but it seems this man has amassed his fortune in not very legal ways. One is the running of various saloons in small towns. He is a vile man for sure."

  "Running saloons may offend the sensibility of good Christian folks, but I don't see the illegal in such things." He forked up some eggs and chewed while watching his brother.

  "No, that in itself is not the issue. Matthew, the man runs ads for mail-order brides. Then when one answers that has no family to come looking, he ropes her in and then forces her to work in his saloons."

  "The women at the boarding house."

  "Yes, dear brother. The women he has working for him do not do so out of necessity or a desire to do so. They are his prisoners. Again, I must confess the man is vile."

  Guilt shot through him. He worked for a man who would do such terrible things to young women. He has offered medical care to these women, yet he never offered them a chance at freedom. He told himself that he could not offer what he didn't know they needed. That knowledge did little to assuage the guilt gripping him at his kitchen table.

  "John told me to come and inform you. Then I am to collect you and bring you home."

  "I can't leave just yet. I have to try to help those young women."

  "Then I will stay and help you."

  They spoke on the subject a bit more while finishing breakfast. Then Matthew left Gage at his place while he made his way for his weekly visit to the boarding house. The walk there troubled him. How could a man get away with such things? He knew the answer. Time and again he had seen what a man of wealth was allowed to do. The man that murdered his father was one such man. The man never once was brought to answer for the crime of murder. If a wealthy man could commit murder, then of course, a man like Mr. Clyde Washington could get away with tricking and deceiving young women into a life of sin. He also knew how society functioned. These women were fallen women. Society had no compassion or care for them. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered if guilt and shame kept them here as much as fear did.

  Doris led him into the sitting room. All the women were there, shaking their heads at him.

  "We are in no need of a doctor today," Sarah said.

  "No cough or anything that needs tending to?" he asked.

  "None whatsoever, doctor. We are all in splendid health. Thank you kindly for coming by," Sarah said. The other women nodded their agreement.

  "Well then, I will take my leave and see you ladies again next week." He turned to go when Doris put her hand up.

  "Actually, doctor, I would like it very much if you would examine Sarah. She has . . . how do I delicately say this . . . a possible issue with her monthly lady business," Doris said, a slight blush touching her cheeks.

  "I assure you there is nothing wrong with any part of me," Sarah shot back, her face redder than Doris’.

  "Well, I saw your women's laundry, Sarah. The color was not normal. The doctor needs to make sure you are healthy," Doris shot back.

  The women argued for a bit more, speaking openly about such matters that were never discussed in mixed company. For a moment he thought they forgot he was even present. The other women rose and tried to slide quietly passed him. Even though he was a doctor, the argument taking place was making him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, but the women continued.

  "Enough!"

  The women shut up instantly and stared at him. There, that was better.

  "If Sarah feels she is fine, then I must believe her."

  "Doctor, Sarah will be examined, even if she has to be tied to the bed to make it happen."

  "I will do no such thing." Sarah began to leave the room when Doris moved faster than Matthew thought possible and grabbed her arms. "Let me go."

  "I will let you go once you agree to be examined. Now, you can go up and get it over with now or I can send for Mr. Washington."

  Sarah dropped her head and her shoulders sagged. When she nodded, Doris let her go and the young woman headed out of the room and up the stairs. Turning, he followed her up the stairs. He had no desire to examine her against her will, especially after what he found out about her unfortunate situation. Once at her door, he followed her into her room.

  "Sarah, I won’t examine you against your will. But you have to tell me what is going on," he said in a hushed tone.

  "There is nothing to tell."

  "Please turn around and talk to me. I am here to help you."

  "Why would you help me?"

  "Because I know the truth about this place, and it is wrong. Just talk to me so I can help."

  She turned and faced him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Sadness was etched on her face, distorting her lovely features.

  "So, it is true. This place, the saloon, all of it?"

  She nodded.

  "Is there more that I don't know?"

  "There is a lot more. They killed Lucy when she tried to leave. Matthew, I am so scared. Doris knows something is amiss and if she finds out, they will kill me, too." She sank to her knees and sobbed.

  "What are you hiding." He knelt beside her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Please trust me."

  "I am with child." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "Oh, Sarah, I am so sorry. Look, I will figure something out. I will get you out of here."

  She looked up at him. "How?"

  Her tear-filled eyes tore at something deep inside of him. He had no clue how he would help her. How did one get a young woman out of this town without getting her killed? He had been told Lucy went to a governess school in New York. There was no governess school. He had bought the lie. No more would he buy the lies of the evil Clyde Washington. He would find a way to save Sarah and put an end to the man's evil enterprise.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning Sarah sat on the church pew with Doris and the other women from the boarding house. A gasp from behind her had her turning her head. Matthew had just entered the church with another man who looked like a younger version of Matthew. Upon further inspection, she noticed he was dressed like a priest. That explained the gasp she had heard. Several more of the congregation were turning to stare and spoke in hushed tones. Matthew walked by and nodded to her as he and the other man made their way toward the front. They sat with Mr. Washington and his daughter Amelia. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. He had said he would help her, but what if he was just saying those things. Would he tell Mr. Washington her secret? No, of course not. Matthew had told her before he left that they must carry on as normal until the time presented itself to get away safely. Surely, he was just playing his part right now.

  She sat through the service trying to keep her mind on the sermon. The preacher was talking about the sins of men and their fall from grace. His voice was loud, and his movements were animated on his small stage. More than once he came from behind the pulpit as he practically jumped up and down. His hands moved wildly about as he spoke. Several members of the congregation would give a loud 'Amen' at various moments.

  Sandwiched between Doris and Megan, sweat began to trickle down her body. She opened her fan and waved it about. She couldn't wait until after the sermon for the potluck lunch. At least then she could put some distance between herself and these two women. The fact that the back door would be open to allow for a slight breeze would also be an added benefit. She envied men in their ability to wear so few layers and been seen as proper, whereas women were stuffed into so many layers that they overheated even in the mildest of warm weather. She had learned the lot of women were hard. Something she had been told that had to do with Eve's fall from grace. All women would suffer through the ages.

  With the sermon over, everyone made their way to the room off the main part of the church. Tables were lined with food brought by women. Sarah stood in line behind Doris. She could see Amelia behind one of the tables, dishing food onto people's plates as they passed. Sarah's back was beginning to ache and her ankles were swelling standing i
n the line. She couldn't hide her condition for much longer. That thought weighed heavy on her mind as she made her way through the line.

  When she reached Amelia, she smiled at the other girl. Amelia's sugary-sweet smile was replaced by a scowl. Amelia's hate-filled eyes bore into her. She held her plate out a little farther. Amelia shook her head and refused to spoon any of the food from the bowl onto Sarah's plate. Sarah dropped her head and left the food line to go sit with Doris. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why Amelia would act like that toward her. She had never done anything to her. As she sat down, she remembered the box lunch even and also the other day at the general store when Amelia and her father had come in while she was talking with Matthew. Oh, my goodness, she thinks I am competition, Sarah thought.

  She couldn’t fathom though how a lady like Amelia would view her as competition. She had never in her life been competition to any woman. Even when life was decent while her parents were alive, she was too plain to be competition. The boys never came calling on her, nor did get asked to dance during any of the town’s festivities where she lived before. Her mother had always assured her that she would grow into a stunning beauty one day. Her mother had been a stunning beauty, but Sarah never grew up to be one. No she took more after her father instead of her mother. Amelia could relax, she wasn’t what was keeping Matthew’s attention from the woman. His desire to not have a wife was the problem.

  ***

  Matthew saw the exchange between Sarah and Amelia. Amelia was always so sweet and kind to others. It seems now that he finally got a glimpse past the mask she wore. He had suspected there was more beneath the surface. She was, after all, Clyde Washington's daughter, cut from the same cloth as the Devil himself. By time he made his way to where she stood, Amelia's sweet mask was back in place. She smiled at him and batted her long eyelashes. When he returned her smile, a blush crept up her face.

  "Why didn't you give any to Sarah?" he asked.

  He saw the confusion on her face. She hadn't expected him to call her out on her behavior. He doubted anyone had ever called Amelia out on anything she did. No, she was spoiled by her father's money and the way he doted on her. No one in this town would ever say anything to upset her, to do so would risk her father's anger. He, however, wasn't afraid of the man’s anger.

  "Her plate was full. There was no room for any more food," Amelia said sweetly.

  "Of course, it was," he said with a hint of sarcasm. The look on her face told him she hadn't missed it, either.

  "That was a bit rude, brother," Gage Bryan said behind him as they made their way to their table.

  "Sometimes one must be rude or otherwise risk getting trapped in a spider's web."

  "So, she is a spider?"

  "She is husband hunting, and I have no intentions of being saddled with a wife."

  His brother's laugh rang out in the room. He saw several people turn and stare at them. At the table, he introduced his brother to Mr. Washington, the mayor, and the town sheriff as they sat down. The conversation flowed around them. A few were curious what the priest thought of the sermon. Gage was polite and declared the sermon to be a good one. The men at the table nodded their agreement.

  "Matthew, there is a ball being held this Friday by a friend of mine. Their place is a half day's ride out and Amelia is in need of an escort," Mr. Washington said.

  "While I would love to escort her, sir, I must beg off as I have a busy day Friday."

  "Nonsense. I am sure everything can be arranged for another day."

  "Sir, my brother is also in town, and I had hoped to spend as much time as I could with him around my duties to my patients."

  "Bring him along. I am sure he would enjoy such an occasion."

  "Sir, I—"

  "It is settled, then," Mr. Washington said, cutting him off.

  Without another word, he simply nodded. He could not afford to upset his employer, yet he wanted nothing to do with escorting that man's daughter anywhere. He felt manipulated and he hated it. Continuing to sit at the table, his frustration mounted. He wanted to scream, have a tantrum, and throw himself down and beat his fists against the floor like an unruly toddler. To do such was unacceptable and so he took a deep breath instead. When appropriate, he excused himself from the table and headed out the back door.

  A slight breeze blew, making the summer heat almost bearable. He took his pipe from his pocket and placed it between his lips. He pulled a box of matches from his pocket and lit the head of one. With the sweet tobacco in the pipe lit, he drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment then exhaled the smoke. He replaced the box inside his pocket. He saw Sarah come out the back door. He smiled at her before she turned her head and disappeared around the corner of the building. He had to get her out of this town and soon. If he was lucky, he could figure out a way to do it before he was stuck escorting Amelia to the ball.

  Chapter 12

  The sound of banging pulled him from his sleep. He sat up and looked about the dark room. The banging continued. Rising, he pulled his robe on, lit the lantern, and headed downstairs. When he pulled the door open, three union soldiers stood before him. Two were holding up a fourth man. Without a word, he stepped back and ushered them inside.

  "Bring him this way," he said as he headed toward the examination room. "What happened to him?"

  "Shot," one of the soldiers said as they laid the man down on the cot.

  "Hold him down for me, please," he said as he busied himself lighting the lanterns in the room.

  Two of the soldiers moved to the head of the bed and held the injured man by his shoulders while the third held the man's legs. Matthew grabbed the scissors and cut the man's shirt away. Blood poured from the wound on the man's arm. He grabbed the water pitcher and soaked a rag. Using it, he gently cleaned the wound. It was a clean shot but it was bleeding badly.

  "I put coffee on," Gage Bryan said from the doorway.

  Matthew looked up from cleaning the wound and nodded as the union soldiers offered their thanks. Matthew had just rose to begin gathering the items needed to stitch the soldier's wound when he heard the outer door open. He straightened to see Mr. Washington and two other men he had seen around town standing in the examination room's doorway. Fear snaked its way down his spine as he stared at the newcomers. He moved on legs that felt heavy, placing himself between the newcomers and the soldiers.

  "Matthew, you and your brother need to leave now," Mr. Washington said.

  "I'm not going anywhere. That man needs stitched up."

  "Father, please take your brother into the other room," Mr. Washington said, looking over at Gage as he stepped farther into the room.

  The three men pulled their guns from under their jackets. Matthew was frozen in place as he watched in horror as the three men shot the three soldiers. His brain exploded in a million shocked thoughts. He felt his brother grab his arm and pulling him toward the doorway. He resisted and tried to get to the injured man on the cot. Before he could free himself from Gage's grip, Mr. Washington shot the injured man in the head.

  He started forward and Gage's grip tightened on his arms. He pulled and pushed as his hands curled into fists. White-hot rage burned in his stomach. He wanted to hurt the man in front of him, his oath to do no harm be damned. No one came into his clinic and murdered an injured man.

  "You murdered him!" he screamed.

  "Son, this is war, and those men are the enemy. It would do you good to mind where you are," Mr. Washington said before he turned and left, the men with him following close behind.

  Gage let him go as soon as the front door closed. He stood looking at the dead men lying in the examination room. In that moment he realized Jacob was right; the man was the Devil himself. Only someone so evil, so vile, could murder another person in cold blood. This wasn't a fight gone wrong. This wasn't the battlefield in which these soldiers would risk their lives. No, this was a place of healing, now tainted by violence.

  "We need to get out of here," Gage said.


  Matthew, unable to speak, simply nodded. He then turned and headed back upstairs to his apartment, where he started packing. Gage joined him and together, they made short work of the little possessions Matthew had brought with him. With the last bit packed, he stopped and looked around the room.

  "I won't leave without her," he said.

  "Without who?"

  "Sarah. I won't leave her here."

  "It will take some work to get her out of here without getting ourselves killed," Gage said as he poured them both a cup of coffee.

  Together they sat sipping coffee and planning out how to get out of town with Sarah. In the end, they knew they couldn't do it alone. No, Mr. Washington had eyes everywhere. Matthew wasn't sure who he could trust. Even those who may not agree with the evil man were too afraid to go against him . . . everyone except Jacob. Yes, Jacob was the answer. It just meant taking more time before fleeing this place.

  The sun was barely breaking the horizon, turning the world a soft gray. Mr. Washington saw none of this as he sat in his office with the curtains pulled closed. The kerosene lantern barely lit the room. He sat behind his desk looking at the two men before him. Today had showed him the true nature of his doctor—a tragedy because he actually liked the young man.

  "What do you want us to do?" one of the other men asked.

  "I can't have him treating the enemy. It won't go over well with the good townsfolk."

  "Why didn't you take care of him this morning then?" the sheriff asked.

  "How would I explain that? I can assure you the townsfolk wouldn't like the killing of the doctor or a priest." He sat back in his chair and studied the other men. "No, the soldiers were the enemy. I simply protected them."

  "You could say you discovered he was a Yankee spy," the other man said.

  "We can use that if it comes down to it. No, I would rather the two of them just disappeared. Less hassle." He nodded, pleased with his idea. "Wait for those until after the ball this weekend. I did promise Amelia the young doctor would be her escort, and I don't wish to break her heart."