Sorcha: Clover Springs Mail Order Brides
Page 1
Sorcha
Clover Springs Mail Order Brides 3
Rachel Wesson
Contents
Copyright
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Epilogue
Also by Rachel Wesson
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Rachel Wesson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright 2016© Rachel Wesson
www.facebook.com/authorrachelwesson
www.rachelwesson.com
Chapter 1
Boston, Winter 1882
Luke was dead.
Sorcha looked up from the letter, tears streaming down her face. Her hopes and dreams had died with him. She threw the pillow from her bed across the room. It just wasn’t fair. She couldn’t be stuck in Boston. That wasn’t the life she wanted. But it’s what you deserve. Nobody loves you. Your Ma dumped you and ran. You are so ugly.
Usually Sorcha could distract herself from the voice in her head but not today. She lay across the bed wallowing in self pity. Laura came in some time later.
“Sorcha, what’s the matter? Did Mother Superior say something?”
Sorcha didn’t look up but spoke with her head on her hands. “Luke’s dead. My life is over.”
“Your life? How do you think Luke’s family and friends feel? How about Mary? She knew him. He was only someone you had exchanged a couple of letters with.” Laura clipped the back of Sorcha’s head but in a gentle way.
It was enough to bring her to her senses. She sat up, shame causing her stomach to roil. Laura was right, as usual. Here she was wallowing in self pity when Luke, dear kind lovely Luke, was dead.
“What happened?” Laura asked, looking at the letter. “Are Mary and her husband all right?”
Sorcha took a deep breath trying to stop the tears.
“Yes, they are fine. Seems Luke came across some young cattle rustlers. They were only starving kids but the gun they were holding went off. Luke died instantly.”
“Well at least he didn’t suffer.” Laura moved back to her bed, fixing her pillow before lying down.
Sorcha looked at the letter in her hands. He didn’t suffer. No, but I am. I was in love with him. He wrote me such lovely letters. He had asked her to go to Clover Springs to become his bride. She had been counting the days until she turned 18. What was she going to do now? She let out a sob, closely followed by a series of others.
Getting up, Laura moved onto Sorcha’s bed. She put her arm around Sorcha in an uncharacteristic display of affection. “Come on, let’s go down and see if Cook has any tea left. You Irish say that’s the cure for everything.”
“What am I going to do, Laura? I can’t stay in Boston. I won’t go work for Mr. Shepherd. I hate the way he looks at me.”
Sorcha felt Laura shuddering. Her friend didn’t like Mr. Shepherd either, but Mother Superior did. He came to the orphanage often, his gifts under one arm and his wallet in the other.
Just the day before Mr. Shepherd had put his arm around Sorcha’s shoulders. She could still smell his breath as he whispered into her ear. His boasts of the large donation he had made to secure her employment still rang in her ears.
It was amazing just how blind Mother Superior could be if there was a donation to the orphanage being offered. May the Lord forgive me for such unchristian thoughts!
“Come on, the kitchen’s warmer than here. Cook might have some cake too. I’m starving.”
Sorcha wiped the tears from her face and followed Laura to the kitchen. Please God, help me get out of here before I am forced to take up employment with Mr. Shepherd.
Later that evening, Sorcha bit her pen as she composed the letter to Mary. How could she tell her friend she still wanted to come to Clover Springs? She didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. Nor did she want to appear heartless, saying she was still intent on traveling despite Luke dying. But the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
“I am desperate, Mary. I cannot go to work for Mr. Shepherd. Please think of some way to get me to Clover Springs. I will do anything. I know you are just married but maybe there is someone in Clover Springs who wants a maid or even a wife. Anything is better than staying in Boston.”
Chapter 2
Clover Springs, Colorado
“Sorry Pa, Meggie was crying and I forgot about the dinner.” Jenny sniffed.
Brian took a step towards his daughter but stopped as she cowered away. His child was terrified. Did she think he would hit her because she burnt some beans? She was only a child herself. Abby should be here cooking and cleaning. God, why did you have to take my wife and boy? Haven’t I paid enough for the sins of my father? Can’t you see my children need their mother?
Jenny did her best but at nine, she couldn’t be expected to run a household. She couldn’t keep herself clean, let alone a three year old who was prone to tantrums. It took a while to realize Jenny was still staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Meggie looked at him too, before going back to her game. She was banging some pans on the floor.
“I’m fed up of beans anyway. How about some eggs?”
Meggie stopped banging to grin up at him. “Yes, Pa.” She lisped “Meggie like eggs.”
He tickled Meggie under the chin and started over preparing their evening meal. He was bone tired having worked all day and he still had chores to see to. But his children needed him first. The milking and such could wait till later.
Once the chores were done and the children asleep, he sat in the rocker facing the fire. Mrs. Sullivan was right. He needed a wife.
When Abby and Ethan were killed, Katie Sullivan was quick to offer help and support. She had watched over the girls for a few weeks, even showing Jenny h
ow to prepare some simple suppers.
At first, he hadn’t liked her coming to the house. He wasn’t rude but he didn’t make small talk. She had her job at the store, in addition to being newly married, yet she still found time to help his family. She ignored his attempts at coolness. She told the girls’ stories of life in Ireland and her family’s trip across the water. He had listened in spite of himself. To be truthful, he missed those days when he had some adult company. The girls were lovely but they weren’t up to making conversation.
Daniel Sullivan was a lucky man to have such a brave wife. Mary, Davy’s wife, was also a fine woman. Maybe he should write to Mrs. Gantley and see if she could find him a mother for the girls. He needed a housekeeper and it would be nice to have someone to talk to. If he could get away without being married he would but it wasn’t proper for an unmarried woman to live out on the ranch with him.
What he needed was an older widow like Mrs. Higgins. Maybe not that old. Someone who didn’t have dreams. A realist. He wasn’t interested in replacing Abby. By taking away all he loved, God had shown Brian he wanted him to remain alone. He wasn’t about to start a new family and put them at risk too. He had killed enough people.
Chapter 3
Katie picked up the letters, turning them back and forth in her hand.
“Reading other people’s mail is a crime, you know.”
Katie started, she hadn’t heard Daniel come up behind her. “Oh, you startled me.” Katie kissed his cheek before turning her attention back to the letter. “One’s from Mrs. Gantley. I wonder if she’s found Mr. Petersen a wife.”
“Guess he’ll tell you soon enough. He’s due in town on Sunday. Said Angel would be all better by then. Why you had to call an old work horse Angel is still a mystery.”
“Why couldn’t she write me at the same time? She must know I would want to know. At least Mary is due in, she can tell me what her letter says. I think it’s from one of the orphanage girls.”
Daniel laughed. “Katie Sullivan, you haven’t changed a bit. You were behind the door when God was dishing out the gift of patience.” Still laughing, Daniel wandered to the back of the store, leaving Katie at the counter still examining the letter.
Mary jumped down from the wagon. Davy had to check on some supplies, giving her time to socialize a little with Katie and Ella. She loved the baby, even though she appeared to have taken her temperament from her namesake. Mrs. Grey hadn’t mellowed much since Ella’s birth. She still gave everyone a piece of her mind. The only people she seemed to like were Ellen and baby Ella. Anyone seeing her with the baby would think she was the little girl’s doting grandmother.
“Have you the kettle on, Katie? My throat is parched.” Mary pushed the door of the store open as she talked. The bell tinkled.
“Ellen, will you mind the store? I want to go upstairs with Mary for a cup of tea.”
“Hello, Mary. Of course I will Katie, so long as you take Ella.”
Katie thanked her sister before whispering to Mary. “Ella is so cranky today, we could give her away.”
Mary took the baby and followed Katie up the stairs to the rooms above, trying to ignore the yearning she had. It had been months, yet there was no sign of her having a child. Maybe she was barren. She glanced over at Katie. Could she ask her? Davy had asked her not to say anything. He was convinced God would send them a child in his own time. That was all well and good, but he didn’t seem to share the same need Mary had.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Katie’s voice intruded on her thoughts. It wasn’t the time to share her worries. Mary forced a smile on her face. “Your daughter is growing more beautiful by the day.”
“She is when she’s asleep.” Katie took a sip of tea. “A letter came from Mrs. Gantley.”
“How is she? How’s Nellie? Does she ever visit the orphanage? I wonder how Ben is doing?”
“You’re worse than me. The letter is addressed to Brian Petersen. I was tempted to steam it open. But for some reason, my husband didn’t approve.”
“You are a tonic, Katie. Whenever I am feeling sad, I know you will make me feel better.”
Concern flitted across Katie’s face. Why didn’t I bite my tongue?
“What’s wrong, Mary? It’s not Davy, is it? I thought you were happy together.”
“We are.” Mary rushed to reassure Katie.
“So what is it?”
“I’m lonely. I know that sounds silly when I have Davy and Mrs. H. But it’s not enough. I miss the girls from the orphanage.”
“Not just the girls.”
“I never could keep anything from you. I’m worried about Ben. Sorcha said he wasn’t happy. He keeps getting into trouble. I wish he wouldn’t upset Mother Superior. She can be an awful old witch.”
Mary stood to put Ella back in her cradle. She held the cup of tea between her hands savoring its warmth. She didn’t want to look at Katie. The tears would start falling and it was getting harder to stop them.
“Sorcha will look after Ben, you know that. I know she will be leaving the orphanage soon but someone else will step in. He’ll be fine. Come on, sit down and drink your tea and put a smile on your face.” Katie took a gulp of her own tea. “I had a letter from Father Molloy. He was asking for you. He said he’d love to come out for a visit.”
“Father Molloy come here? To Clover Springs. He’s too old to make the trip.”
“I wouldn’t go telling him that. In his head, he is still twenty. He said he met some people from Galway on the latest ship to arrive from Ireland.”
“Anyone we knew?”
“I didn’t recognize the names but you might.” Katie handed Mary the letter to read. Mary shook her head as she read through the list of names.
“It’s shocking they murdered Lord Cavendish and Mr. Burke. If they catch those fellas, they’ll hang.” Katie pulled the cover back up on her daughter.
“I believe in Ireland belonging to the Irish but that doesn’t make killing people right. What good will it do anyone?” Mary spoke as she continued to read. “That Parnell fella seems to have his head screwed on right, doesn’t he? Father Molloy likes him too. He said he condemned the murders. Maybe he will win freedom for Ireland.”
“He might but I wouldn’t bet any money on it. Father Molloy said feelings were running high amongst those who had lost families in the famine or to emigration.”
“Would you go back, Katie?” Mary ignored Katie’s look of surprise. “There are some days I would give anything to see home again.”
“Home? Clover Springs is my home. Charlie Stanton’s pigs would fly over the church bells before you get me back on one of those ships.” Katie reached across the table to take Mary’s hands. “Is there anything I can do, a chuisle?” Katie’s Gaelic endearment made Mary smile. “I don’t like seeing you so sad or hearing you talk this way.”
Mary dipped her head. Taking a deep breath, she patted Katie’s hand before standing up. “Don’t mind me. I’m an eejit. Haven’t I a lovely husband and a nice house? What more could a woman ask for?” A baby. Mary forced those thoughts out of her head. “Tell Father Molloy to behave. He’s not to be upsetting Cook with his talk of Parnell and home rule.”
Katie smiled but her eyes were full of concern. Mary knew she wasn’t fooling her friend. “Come on, I need to get the shopping done before Davy comes back. He’ll not be happy if I delay him.”
“Oh Mary, what’s the matter with me! You got a letter too. I left it downstairs.”
Chapter 4
Katie ran to get the letter leaving Mary alone with Ella. She picked up the child and hugged the baby close. Please God give me a child. Soon. She followed Katie downstairs to the store, swapping Ella for the letter. Ripping it open, she scanned the contents.
“It’s from Sorcha. Oh, the poor girl. That Mother Superior, she’s an awful… “
“Mary Sullivan. Least said, soonest mended, remember.”
“Ach, I know but that woman! Sorcha wants
to come to Clover Springs. She is adamant. She’ll marry anyone. She doesn’t want to have to go to work for Mr. Shepherd. Can’t say I blame her either.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Daniel asked his brother as they packed their wagon.
“I want Mary to be happy. She lost so much already. She writes ten page letters to her sister Cathy to get a note back. Ben can give her the family she craves.”
“What about when your own family comes along? You can’t chuck the boy aside.”
“Daniel Sullivan, what type of man do you take me for? If God gives us children, we will love them too. Ben needs a home. Mary wants a child.” Davy threw the last sack in the back of the wagon. “Anyway, the old Nun could say no. Mary said she was difficult.”
“Well, from what the girls said about the orphanage, the Nuns consider cripples to be a burden. I hope you know what you’re doing. I mean, I admire you for giving a child a home but a cripple on a ranch?”
“It’ll be fine.” Davy spoke sharply. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, his brother or himself. “Don’t tell a soul. Do you hear me? Especially not Ma or your Katie. That pair couldn’t keep a secret if their life depended on it.”
“Katie will see the letter from the orphanage. You know she’ll ask questions.”
“She won’t ask if the letters go to Father Cleary. Reverend Tim suggested I ask the priest to write to the Nun in charge of the orphanage. He thinks the whole adoption will run smoother this way. You know what Priests and Nuns are like.”
Daniel clapped Davy on the back. “Reverend Tim. He always has the answer. Who else knows about this?”
“Just Mrs. H but she is sworn to secrecy. Anyway, if you see Reverend Tim, ask him to call out to the ranch as soon as he hears anything. I won’t be back in town until Sunday.”
They both looked up as the store door opened and their wives appeared.
“I thought you had gotten lost.” Davy took Mary’s hand to help her up onto the wagon. “Did you solve the world’s problems?”