Martha (The Marriage Market Book 5)

by Stevie MacFarlane

  He’d grown impatient, frustrated, until finally he stopped pressing her. He changed and Martha knew it was a direct result of that horrible night a few months ago.

  Ethan and Sam had been the two men who rappelled down the mountain the morning they’d found Effie and Suzanna after an all-night search. It had been Ethan who carefully secured Suzanna’s bloody body to a make shift stretcher and guided it up the cliff while the others handled the ropes.

  He thought she was dead, Ethan confessed to Martha that night. Thought they both were as soon as he saw them looking fragile and broken, lying together on a huge flat rock in the cold light of dawn.

  “I was sick when I saw them lying so still,” he croaked out. “And Sam… I’ll never forget his face, the desperation, the hopelessness. I could only imagine his fear as we made our way down. I kept watching him, half expecting him to just let go of the rope and join her, such was the pain in his eyes. Such a foolish thing to do,” he ground out, pounding his fist in his hand as he rose and paced the room. “I did not realize women could be so unpredictable. She was warned, all of you were warned not to use that road!”

  “Effie thought she was doing the right thing,” Martha replied, defending her friend. “We didn’t know how bad the accident on the mountain was or how many men were hurt and she was trying to get help.”

  “It is no excuse,” Ethan snapped. “Sometimes women need to do what they are told.”

  “I see,” Martha sighed, looking down at her hands in her lap.

  “No, you only see what you want to,” Ethan insisted, grasping her shoulders and pulling her from her chair. Giving her a sharp shake, he leaned down until they were eye to eye. “I understand this need you have to be an equal to a man, but in many ways it is not possible. I am bigger, stronger and have lived on this mountain for many years. I know it, the dangers, the risks, yet you want a say in everything. Even things you know nothing about.

  “I have heard you and your friends talking. You want to form a group where you will end up antagonizing the men who like their liquor. That is not me, Martha, but others will not take to it. There will be danger there as well, yet you think I should sit by and let you have your way in all things. Other wives will join your group and there will be trouble.”

  “Ethan—”

  “No, now you will listen to me. It is I who will have my way. When we marry and I tell you not to do something, you will obey me. I will not worry about finding my wife half dead because she thinks she knows best. Do you understand? I will not let you be a target for drunken men as you march through town with your banners condemning men who will be our neighbors, our friends.”

  “But Ethan—”

  “I am going home now, before I say or do something we will both regret,” he said, releasing her. “You must think about what you want, Martha. Do you want a man for a husband or a mouse, for I can be no mouse? I have tried to be patient with you, but I must wonder if you have been leading me on. Maybe no man is good enough for you?

  “I am a good man, Martha, but I too like a glass of whiskey now and then. Will you march against me? Will you defy my orders when they are meant to keep you safe? Will you continue to make me wait for you until you decide if I am good enough?” he demanded.

  “That first day I saw you I wanted you. So pretty, so spirited, I thought this is the woman for me, but I am no longer sure,” he admitted sadly as he pulled on his coat. “If you loved me as I love you, we would have married long ago, so I can only wonder if perhaps we are not meant to be husband and wife. I will call on you again next week. For now, I need to think. I can not get the image of those women out of my mind. You must decide if you can be an obedient wife, Älskling. I find I cannot settle for less.”

  That night was nearly three months ago. Since then Ethan had called weekly, taken her to dinner at his parents’ restaurant a couple of times and kissed her chastely on the cheek each time he left. There were no more passionate embraces, no lingering kisses on the stoop. He did not press her against him as he had the night of Cole and Charlotte’s wedding, proving his desire for her.

  Effie and Suzanna both recovered over time. Suzanna married Dalton and they went on their honeymoon. They would return in the spring, Suzanna promised. She wanted to be back in Seattle for the birth of Amelia and Hugh’s child.

  Effie and Sam now lived in their own home with Grace and Jonah as semi-permanent houseguests. Amelia and Hugh had joined them even though there were now very few brides. He did not want Amelia to be alone in her condition and Effie and Grace had always been her best friends.

  Martha thought the house seemed strangely quiet with only herself, Ellie, Clara, Mary and Jane unless Ellie was arguing with her Mr. Ferguson. Gracious, those two had some ferocious battles. It was a wonder he made the trip from Portland every week to see her considering nearly all they did was argue.

  She almost wished she and Ethan would have a knock down, dragged out fight instead of the cold, cordial arrangement they had now. If nothing else, it would clear the air. At this point she wondered what she was doing in Seattle at all. Turning out the light, she went upstairs to her room and undressed, putting on her long white night dress. Sitting before her vanity, she pulled the pins from her hair and picked up her brush.

  A hundred strokes every night for nearly twenty-seven years, she thought absently as she brushed her long dark hair over one shoulder, and for what? To entice a man? To be considered attractive?

  She came to Seattle to marry Hugh Jordon. The only problem was so had a lot of other women. His advertisement and subsequent letter pushed her to sell her dress shop in Philadelphia and travel west. When she arrived, Hugh was already married to Amelia. It didn’t bother Martha. They were obviously in love and the misunderstandings were caused by Hugh’s head clerk, Clarence. Martha regarded it as just one of those things. She could have turned around and boarded a ship back to San Francisco, but she had nothing there and she’d made friends on the trip. It seemed to her she should at least stay for a while and see if she liked living on the other side of the country.

  Molly, one of the excess brides, agreed to marry the man who sent for her. It was while she was helping Molly and Amelia fix up Molly and Angus’s cabin that she met Ethan Jorgensen. You could have knocked her over with a feather when the huge Swede walked into the cabin and scooped her up, declaring he would take her as his bride as though she were the bargain of the week at the grocer.

  She’d refused of course, she recalled with a smile, but he won her over with his bright smile and charming accent. Ethan was a gentle giant, treating her carefully. The first time he mentioned spanking her, she was taken aback and assumed he was teasing her. As time went on and she became more comfortable with him as her intended, she questioned him, gaining his assurance that he would never treat her in such a childlike fashion providing she behaved as an adult. For a while that seemed to settle the matter and they set a date. How was she to know that Suzanna and Effie would nearly be killed when the road washed away as they rushed to town to get men to help after a logging accident?

  She couldn’t marry Ethan with so much going on. Then Suzanna and Dalton announced their pending nuptials. It wouldn’t have been proper for her to steal Suzanna’s thunder by marrying while she and Effie were laid up. Ethan should have understood that sometime circumstances prevented people from doing as they pleased.

  As far as the Ladies Aide Society they wanted to start, well that was something the brides had been talking about for months. Washington Territory would soon be a state and women should have the right to vote. Saloons and houses of ill repute were numerous and all of the women worried about the families of the men who spent their money over the bar instead of honoring their responsibilities. They’d all seen children running barefoot, filching food from the crates at the wharf when no one was looking; children who should be in school.

  No, it was their duty to try and do something to improve the lives of women less fortunate and they were no long
er going to shirk it. In her mind, Ethan should have been proud of her for wanting to take a stand against inequality between the sexes. Instead, he was critical of her ideals.

  Sighing, she placed the brush on her bureau and climbed into bed. Perhaps it wasn’t in her future to be a wife and mother. Perhaps she really was going to be an old maid. Well, if that was the case, she was going to be a damn good one. She still had money from the sale of her shop and she knew Hugh would help her if it wasn’t enough. Maybe she would forget the whole idea of getting married and open a shop of her own again. There was something to be said for being your own boss she told herself, punching her pillow and turning out the lamp. Who needed a man anyway, especially a big, bossy one? Maybe when Ethan finally decided to show up again she would just tell him she had made a decision and no, he wasn’t good enough for her. Maybe she would tell him she would only settle for a man who wanted to be her partner, not her master.

  Silent tears fell as she admitted she loved Ethan. Was it so wrong to want her wedding to be to a man who valued her opinion and stood behind her? Martha wanted a wedding that was not rushed as the others had been, not that they all weren’t lovely in their own way, but she wanted something special. Many of the others were married now. Effie and Grace who came west to save their friend weren’t even mail order brides, just loyal friends of Amelia’s and they’d both married. Molly’s wedding was lovely if you didn’t count the cake which was beautiful but nearly inedible. Charlotte’s wedding was planned and executed within hours when she married Marshal Hadley.

  Suzanna and Dalton’s wedding was close to perfect, considering it was nearly disrupted by a political brawl. She wasn’t sure Ellie’s wedding to Clayton Ferguson would ever take place and she wasn’t sure about her own either. Jane and Doctor Martin seemed to spend a lot of time together, but as his nurse, that was understandable. So far Jane had given no indication that they were any more than friends and associates. In fact, Jane was making arrangements to send for her children from back east on her own, even though the good doctor offered to pay for it. Martha had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate Jane going behind his back when he’d offered to help, but Jane was adamant.

  Oh, the whole world seemed to be in a muddle. Things hadn’t turned out at all as she’d hoped, and now tomorrow, she was joining the others to search for a vacant building in town for their headquarters. Maybe she’d keep her eyes open for a small building suitable for a dress shop. Ethan had a few too many conditions for her taste. Obey him indeed. Or what, she huffed, tossing restlessly.

  He’d spank her. Turn up her skirts and slap her bottom as though she were a child until he gained her repentance or compliance, whatever the case might be. It was too much to ask, and far too embarrassing. Despite her feelings about the practice, she knew a number of men spanked their wives, and, in her opinion, it was something that should be discussed at one of their meetings. Goodness, even dear Duncan, the Jordon patriarch was known to toss Tempest’s skirts up and redden her bottom. It was appalling, barbaric.

  Obviously, all men weren’t like that. Martha knew for a fact that her dear friend Charlotte had only been spanked once by her marshal husband and that was because she asked for it. Of all the idiotic notions, but Charlotte insisted she’d done the right thing and it made their marriage stronger. Martha had given Charlotte a very heavy cast iron skillet for a wedding present and they’d laughed about it, but Martha doubted it would ever be used for anything other than cooking.

  It seemed a very long time ago that Charlotte advised Martha that most husbands spanked their wives from time to time, and if Martha was worried about it, she should get herself a heavy skillet in case Ethan ever went too far. Ethan and she had laughed about it, and he promised to buy her one before they married. Not surprisingly, he never did. Apparently he rethought his stance on spousal discipline after Effie and Suzanna nearly perished.

  Tired and disheartened, Martha finally fell asleep, dreaming of satins and lace, buttons and bows and cast iron skillets.

  “Come on, Martha,” Clara hollered up the stairs. “You’re holding everyone up. The girls are already in the wagon. Oh, I hope we find a place today. I can’t wait to get started.”

  “I’m hurrying as fast as I can,” Martha replied, racing down the stairs. “Gracious,” she continued, pulling on her gloves. “My but you’re anxious today.”

  “It’s because we’re finally doing something I know something about,” Clara exclaimed, smiling. “Most of the time I’m at a loss about what’s going on.”

  “That’s right; you were involved in the Ladies Aide Society back in Baltimore weren’t you?”

  “Yes, and the Washingtonian Temperance Movement,” Clara replied proudly. “Oh, Martha, the marches were so exciting.”

  “Was there danger?” Martha asked nervously. “Did you feel threatened?”

  “Oh my yes,” Clara replied. “Some of those men were downright violent. You see they didn’t like our views. At times a man would come and try to drag his wife away,” she continued her eyes wide with excitement.

  “What did you do?”

  “Why we beat them off with our signs,” Clara insisted, straightening her shoulders. “If we could that is. Then the mayor’s wife joined our cause and soon some of the wives of the city council. After that, we often had a police escort along. It wasn’t nearly as much fun after that.” She sighed as she headed out the door.

  Martha shook her head and followed her to the wagon. She was surprised to see Tempest on the front seat holding the reins. Once everyone was settled in, she set the team in motion.

  “I believe I have found the perfect location for our meetings,” Tempest began. “Oh, mes petits wait till you see it.” She laughed. “The men, they will hate it, bien sur, but oh va bien. They will adjust,” she continued, giving a wave of her hand.

  “Where is it, Ma Ma?” Amelia asked.

  “You must wait and see,” Tempest replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “Be patient ma petit.”

  There were audible gasps when she pulled the wagon in front of Seattle’s most prosperous saloon, The Bucket of Blood.

  “Good heavens,” Effie exclaimed, “not this place!”

  “No, my sweet one, the building next door,” Tempest explained as she pulled the brake on and began to climb down. “I was able to get the lease on it, but I will tell you it was difficile.”

  “Doesn’t Mrs. Morton own this block of buildings?” Grace asked as she too got down from the wagon and smoothed her skirts before she and Effie assisted Amelia.

  “Yes, and she is égoïste et avide,” Tempest hissed under her breath. “I nearly lost my favorite earrings before les cartes à jouerurned in my favor.”

  “You gambled for the building, and won?” Effie exclaimed in delight.

  “Oui, but you must not tell Pa Pa or Samuel. They do not understand the finer points of négociation. Come, let us look and see what we have acquis.” Taking the key from her reticule, she approached the door and opened it.

  Chapter 3

  The main room was large and dusty. Dutifully Amelia, Grace, Effie, Martha, Jane, Mary, Clara and Ellie trooped inside while Tempest held the door.

  “It’s a pig sty,” Ellie declared, swatting at cobwebs before they settled in her hair.

  “Oui, it will need work, but we are all strong,” Tempest insisted. “Soon it will look like the finest salon in Paris,” she promised.

  “Why must it be perfect?” Clara asked in confusion. “It is simply a meeting hall.”

  “Non, my pet, it will be much more than that. It will be a place for les dames of Seattle to discuss important matters. The nicer the accoutrements, the more they will come.”

  “She’s right,” Amelia stated. “We should make it as comfortable and welcoming as possible.”

  “Yes,” Effie agreed. “There should be refreshments, coffee and tea, cakes and sandwiches. Perhaps chocolate as well,” she continued with a wink, mentioning her favorite drink.


  “Naturellement,” Tempest agreed, winking back. “What gathering is complete without chocolat chaud?”

  “But why this location?” Mary asked. “Won’t it be more dangerous than say the outskirts of town?”

  “Nonsense,” Effie insisted. “What better place to protest drinking and promote temperance than beside the most notorious saloon in Seattle?”

  “Exactement,” Tempest added. “The marshal’s office is right down the street, so there will be protection and the Jordon offices are not far away. It is perfect. Martha, you have been quiet, ma petit. What do you think?”

  Martha walked around the room. She’d already looked over the large area in the back of the building and the storage area, noted the windows and exits and determined the building was much larger than it looked from the façade.

  “I have no objections to the location,” she began slowly. “I was just wondering if we need all this space.”

  “Probably not, but we have it,” Amelia said in agreement.

  “I have a proposition,” Martha continued, looking around at each of the women. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought into opening a new dress shop. Would it be possible to partition off part of the building? I would be more than willing to pay for the space I require.”

  “But Martha,” Clara exclaimed. “What about Ethan? I thought you two were to be married soon.”

  “It seems Ethan’s ardor has cooled,” Martha admitted. “While he hasn’t called off our engagement, he is having doubts. I’m not the sort of woman who is capable of waiting for a man to rescue me. I need to be self-supporting and make my own way in the world.”

  “Oh my, I am most affligé at this news,” Tempest said, wringing her hands. “You are the perfect couple, but I understand your desire to take care of yourself. I am sure we can work something out, ne vous convenez?” she asked, looking at the shocked and saddened faces of the assembled ladies. She watched Martha square her shoulders.