by Sky Winters
The little buzz of chatter died down as the men sitting around the table looked between her and her father with keen interest. She ignored the lot of them and kept her eyes focused on her father. He was staring daggers at her- his chest rose and fell in indignation as he tried to decide how best to save face.
“What did you say to me girl?” he asked in a tone that told Daisy he was going to make her pay.
“You heard me the first time,” Daisy said with defiance.
“Come here you little tramp!” Blake screamed as he lunged for her.
Daisy had developed keen instincts and quick reflexes as a child, a result of being brought up by a fiery tempered gambler. Her strong willed nature had gotten her into trouble with her father countless times and in those events, Daisy’s only hope was to predict when his tolerance would snap and then run from his wrath.
She dodged his closed fist by a hair’s breath and ran into the saloon’s kitchen and through the back door. She felt him chase after her but Daisy knew from experience that Blake had no stamina. He would attempt to go after her but once he ran short of breath, he would give up the chase and lie in wait for her until she got back home.
Daisy walked through the streets of Boulder for the next couple of hours. She knew that her father’s anger would still be waiting for her when she came back home. She had scars running down her back that proved Blake Adams was not a forgiving man, especially where his pride was concerned. What he failed to understand however was that Daisy had her pride as well. She hated when he talked down to her. She hated when he treated her like a servant and most importantly, she hated being poked and prodded by the hooligans and drunkards that he brought in to the saloon for his nightly gambles.
“Hello there,” a loud, curious voice called from nearby, breaking Daisy’s thoughtful reverie.
Daisy looked up and saw a middle-aged woman with a mess of dark curls, dressed in skirts of pink cotton. She was looking Daisy up and down with a critical eye.
“Hello,” Daisy replied tentatively.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out and about at this time of night?” she asked bluntly.
Daisy squared her jaw and said the first thing that came to mind. “My father’s the devil.”
The woman raised her eyebrows with interest. “Is that so? Well, well… does that mean you’re going back home?”
“I don’t really have a choice do I?” Daisy responded.
The woman came up to her with a smile playing on her lips. “Then you’re not looking hard enough.”
“What?”
The woman gave her a small wink. “You have a choice standing right before you. I help… girls like you… find nice, happy homes.”
Daisy frowned at her. “And how do you accomplish that?”
“There are lots of lonely men out there who are in need of strong, young women –
Daisy turned away immediately. “I know what your scheme is,” she said. “And I’m not marrying anyone.”
“Wait,” the woman called after her but Daisy kept walking. “If you change your mind, you can find me in between the butcher’s and the bakery.”
Daisy walked back home slowly, trying to put as much time between her and the belt that she knew waited for her at home. When she finally got there, the lamp was burning brightly in the front window. She walked inside to find her father sitting at a table waiting for her.
“You’re a wretch of a daughter,” Blake hissed, as his eyes landed on her.
“Well you’re a wretch of a father,” Daisy shot back.
“Oh you’ll be sorry tomorrow,” Blake said with a cruel smile. “I bet you anything you will.”
“Perhaps you should stop betting altogether,” Daisy retorted. “Or you’ll bet away this saloon and all means to support ourselves.”
“It’s true, I don’t have the money to keep this place for much longer… but I soon will. I soon will.”
Daisy concentrated on the smile playing on Blake’s face. He looked far too happy and that made her nervous. She was also conscious of the fact that the dreaded belt was noticeably absent. To her surprise, Blake rose and moved towards the back rooms where he slept.
“You’re not going to punish me for talking smart to you?” Daisy couldn’t help but ask.
“I have a buyer coming tomorrow to pick up the merchandise that I sold to him.”
“What does that have to do with my belting?” Daisy demanded.
Blake turned to look at her. “Well he paid good money for you, and he doesn’t want his goods damaged.”
Chapter Two
“Daisy!” Blake barked from the parlor. “Stop dawdling and come in here girl!”
Daisy stared at herself in the grainy, rust stained mirror that hung on the wall just adjoining the parlor. She had on a scarlet dress whose skirts were free of stains and tears. Its bodice was thinly worked and extremely tight so as to highlight the smallness of her waist. She had been ordered to scrub her face clean and present herself in a comely fashion and she had done just that. She had pulled back her long red hair, making her hazel eyes all the more prominent.
“Daisy!!!”
Daisy walked into the parlor, aware of the scrutiny she was under. They had occupied the table at the centre of the room. It was filled with empty bottles and a pack of cards that had been strewn about. Apart from her father, there was only one other man at the table. He was a portly, red faced and older than she had expected.
“Mr Berenson,” Blake said in a simpering voice that Daisy did not hear often. “This is my daughter – Daisy.”
Mr Berenson said nothing. He rose slowly as though the process of moving was cumbersome and then he proceeded to circle Daisy as though she were cattle being sold in the marketplace. He looked her up and down with an expression that was hard to read. Daisy noticed how nervous her father looked. She knew he was terrified that she would misbehave and ruin his deal.
Berenson circled back around so that he was facing Daisy. “Let down your hair girl,” he said in a commanding voice.
Daisy noticed her father tense instantly. “Do it,” he mouthed viciously from behind Berenson. “Do it or it’s the whip for you.”
Daisy reached up and undid the knot in her hair. It fell around her in silken waves. Berenson looked pleased as he reached out a hand to touch the one lock that had fallen over Daisy’s left breast. She willed herself not to cringe as his yellow, cracked fingernails wrapped itself around the loose strands of hair. Finally Berenson turned his back on her to sink back into his seat.
“She’ll do,” Berenson said with an air of satisfaction.
Blake looked thrilled. Underneath the veneer of delight however, Daisy knew how surprised he was by her compliant behavior. He obviously believed his threats had worked.
“Pa?” Daisy said in a voice that was not her own.
Blake looked at her trying to hide the surprise in his eyes.
“Yes?”
“We’ve run out of flour and oil. Shall I run down to the store and get some more?”
“You do that,” Blake said before waving her away.
She left the parlor, but she lingered by the door, out of sight.
“Very obedient,” Daisy heard her father say. “Meek and obedient, just what you need in a woman.”
Daisy didn’t wait to hear more. She gathered up her skirts and set off into town. She found the place nestled between the butcher’s and the bakery, just where Bonnie had said it would be. The signage on top read ‘Bonnie’s Tailoring Shop for Young Ladies’. Daisy walked in and looked around. A few women milled about but no one glanced in her direction. She moved up to the counter where an older mustached gentleman sat.
“Excuse me sir?” Daisy said interrupted him from his newspaper.
“Yes?” he said giving her a cursory glance.
“I’m looking for a Miss Bonnie Harding.”
“Is that right?” he said his tone changing somewhat. “You go on upstairs dearie.”
/> Daisy followed his directions up the narrow, winding staircase and knocked on the door standing at the right of the landing. A moment later, she heard footsteps and Bonnie Harding appeared at the threshold dressed in a dress with red skirts and a cream bodice.
“Well, well,” she said with a large grin. “I knew I’d be seeing you again.”
With a sigh of defeat, Daisy walked in and Bonnie closed the door behind her. “What brings you here my pet?” she asked with a little spring of delight in her step.
“You know very well,” Daisy replied.
“Oh don’t sound so sad,” Bonnie said. “Think of this as an adventure.”
Daisy glared at her. “I don’t think adventure is the right word.”
Bonnie went around her large, wooden desk and brought out a thick ledger filled with loose sheets of paper. “This special book here is what is going to lift you from your tragic life,” she said dramatically without losing her smile.
Daisy sighed. “I need to get far away from Boulder,” she said.
“Is that your only stipulation?”
“It’s the most important one,” Daisy replied. “And I want to be away from here as soon as I can, tonight if possible.”
“Tonight?” Bonnie repeated raising her eyebrows. “Why, your father really must be the devil.”
“Do you have anyone that will… suit?” Daisy asked awkwardly, unsure how to phrase the question.
“First things first,” Bonnie said. “What is your name?”
“Daisy Adams.”
“Adams?” Bonnie repeated. “You’re not the daughter of... Blake Adams, are you?”
“The very same,” Daisy answered without enthusiasm.
“Well no wonder you’re here,” Bonnie said as she looked back down at her ledger. Every few seconds, she drew out another thin piece of paper with an ad of sorts on its face. “Look through these,” she instructed. “I’m sure someone will catch your eye.”
Daisy spent the better part of an hour looking through want ads from men who were in need of wives. There were a few ads that mothers and sisters had placed on behalf of their sons and brothers, but the overwhelming majority was written by the men themselves. Daisy could feel the loneliness and desperation wafting off the pages.
“What’s taking so long child,” Bonnie cut in finally. “There has to be someone there that you won’t mind marrying.”
“Actually there isn’t,” Daisy said pushing the ads away from here. “This is not what I want. I don’t mind working hard and paying for my keep. What I do not want is to marry a stranger and lie next to him in bed each night and bare his children. All I want is… my freedom.”
Daisy expected Bonnie to laugh her out of the establishment, but instead Bonnie’s eyes grew thoughtful. “How strange,” she said after a moment.
“What is?” Daisy asked curiously.
Bonnie rose and moved to one corner of the room where a desk had been set up. She rifled through its drawers and pulled out another piece of paper. As she walked back to her seat, she handed it to Daisy. “That came in a few months ago,” she said. “It was the strangest ad I’d ever seen and I didn’t think for the life of me that we’d find a match for him.”
Daisy turned her attention to the ad in front of her:
WANTED
“I need a wife.
However, there is no requirement for love or childbirth.
All I need is a strong, young woman who is hard working and quick to learn.”
“Is that all he wrote?” Daisy asked looking up after she had been through the ad twice over.
“It is,” Bonnie nodded.
“Where does he live?” Daisy asked.
“Nevada City,” Bonnie replied. “Just alongside the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.”
“What’s his name?”
“Austin Underwood.”
Daisy nodded as she considered all her possibilities.
“So?” Bonnie interrupted impatiently. “What do you think?”
Daisy glanced down at the ad one more time. “I think I’ve found my match.”
Chapter Three
It was a test of Daisy’s resilience that she was able to make the arduous journey from Colorado to Nevada without complaint or illness overwhelming her. She joined a small group of men and women who were travelling to Utah, and from there, she got in touch with a contact of Bonnie’s who took her the rest of the way to Nevada city.
It was a particularly windy day when the horses finally drew up to the smoky gold mining town. The bustle of commerce filled the air making Daisy’s head spin. Her legs ached, her back was sore and she was sick to death of travelling. She thanked her small party and moved to stand outside the post office where she had been instructed to wait for her future husband. She had practiced the title countless times on the road, but no matter how many times she repeated it, it still sounded foreign on her tongue.
She had to wait almost an hour before she saw a horse and buggy heading in her direction. Her mood had turned sour by then but she forced herself to keep calm and be polite. The man atop the horse was tall, lean and surly. His hands betrayed years of hard labor. They were large, lightly muscled and slightly sunburnt. His dark brown hair was tousled from the wind, and they almost hid the striking blue of his eyes. He looked down at her with an expressionless gaze.
“Are you Daisy Adams?” he asked.
“I am,” Daisy nodded.
“Well up you get,” he said without getting off his horse.
Daisy lifted up her skirts and climbed into the buggy with her measly lot of possessions. It wasn’t the most ceremonious of welcomes, but Daisy didn’t care. She had not come here for ceremony. Austen spurred the horse forward and they moved through Nevada town at an even pace.
“Where do you live?” Daisy asked as she leaned forward slightly.
“Out in the country,” Austen replied. “Closer to the mountain range, but we’re not going there now.”
“Where are we going then?” Daisy asked.
“To church,” Austen replied shortly.
“Church?” Daisy said in surprise. “We’re getting married… now?”
“I can’t very well take you home without us being married,” he said.
“Of course,” Daisy said.
He was not exactly what Daisy had expected. He was quiet and reserved, that much she had foreseen, but she had not expected him to be quite so brusque. Physically, he was nothing like what she had imagined. He was much younger and much better looking than her imagination had allowed. She wondered momentarily why he had resorted to an ad when he could so easily have found a wife by himself.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Austen pulled up outside a quaint little church with white wooden walls and flowers lining its entrance. Daisy had seen nothing quite this pretty in Boulder. She felt instantly conscious of how dirty and sweaty she was. The dress she wore was rough and plain, suitable for travel and work but little else. Her hair was a half knotted mess that hung in entangled strands down her back and her face was no doubt greasy and painted with fatigue.
Still, Daisy made no complaint. She followed Austen into the church as her resolve firmly cemented itself in the choice she had made. There was no time for doubts and no turning back now.
“Hello Austen,” a soft voice greeted as they entered the church.
Daisy looked to her side to find a tiny little nun with an aged face and youthful eyes. She turned her gaze on Daisy and her smile grew wider. “Is this your long awaited bride Austen?”
“Yes,” Austen replied. “This is Daisy.”
“Daisy,” she repeated. “I am sister Agatha. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” Daisy said awkwardly, trying to straighten her skirts.
“When did you arrive?” sister Agatha asked.
“Just now,” Austen answered before she could.
“Austen,” sister Agatha’s tone was gently chiding. “The girl hasn’t even had time to rest.”
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“I want to get home before it gets dark,” Austen replied bluntly.
Sister Agatha shook her head at him. “There’s plenty of time. You wait out here. I’ll have your bride freshened up and ready for a wedding in no time.”
To her surprise, Austen didn’t argue. He sat down in one of the back pews as sister Agatha gestured for Daisy to follow her. The little nun led her to a small back room that was complete with a water basin.
“Why don’t you clean yourself off my child,” sister Agatha said. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Daisy smiled gratefully and went into the room. She stripped off her outer garments and using the rough cloth by the water basin, she scrubbed her hands, legs and face clean and instantly, she felt better. She looked through the dresses she had brought with her, realizing that none were fit for a formal occasion. Unconcerned, Daisy chose a thick grey dress with a cream bodice that was the closest thing to presentable she could find.
She checked her reflection in the mirror. Scrubbing her face had made a significant difference. She gathered her hair up and wound it around in a loose bun at the back of her head. A few careless crimson strands hung loose around her face. At that moment, sister Agatha walked in.
“Ah, now that’s better,” she exclaimed as she looked at Daisy. “Much better. I brought you some white flowers from the consistory garden. We had enough for a small bouquet and the remainder we can wind them around in your hair.”
“Oh thank you sister,” Diana said. “But I don’t think I’ll be needing the flowers.”
The nun ignored her as she stood on her tiptoes to pin the flowers to Daisy’s hair. Resigning herself, Daisy bent down a little until sister Agatha was done.
“There, you’re ready.”
As they reached the little chapel, Daisy started to feel her heart rate race upwards. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that there was no turning back. Then she started walking towards her new future.
Chapter Four
The land stretched out before her like an empty canvas of dark browns, violent oranges and steely umbers. There was beauty there, but it was a different kind of beauty, one that was harsh, severe and intoxicating in its barrenness.