Cheyenne Mail order Bride
The story of a woman not too old to love again.
Susan Leigh Carlton
Amazon Publishing
Copyright © 2014 by Susan Leigh Carlton.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Susan Leigh Carlton Associates
Tomball, TX 77377
www.susanleighcarlton.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
The Mature Mail Order Bride/Susan Leigh Carlton 1st Ed.
Contents
Description
Prologue
Christopher Goes To War
You Have To Move
Jennie Makes A Decision
Cal Pierce
The CP Ranch
Jennie’s Ad
Cal’s Decision
Cal’s Ad and Answer
Jennie Answers
Jennie Tells the Family
My Name Is Jennie
Hello Jennie, I’m Cal
I Got a Telegram
I Can’t Do It
Jennie? I’m Cal
Will You Marry Me?
We’re Getting Married
The Last Night On the Farm
On The Train
The Circle CP
A Blessed Event
Epilogue
About Susan
Susan’s Other Books
Description
This is a novella of approximately 27,000 words. It is a work of western romantic fiction. As such, it has sexual content between a man and his wife. There are no clinical names used and there is no profanity or vulgarity.
It is the story of a 21 year old whose husband was killed in the Battle of The Wilderness in Spotsylvania, Virginia. She is left expecting a child, living on a farm her family once owned and now share crops. The story fast forwards to when she is thirty-four, and an older banker threatens her with eviction if she doesn’t marry him. Tired of the struggle to survive, she advertises for a husband in The Matrimonial News.
The hero is a Texan who, after striking it rich in the gold fields of Colorado, drives Texas cattle he purchased from distressed ranchers to Wyoming, where he sells the herd, taking advantage of the beef scarcity to make a huge profit. Never married, he advertises in The Matrimonial News for a bride..
Will this couple make a go of it? The story reveals all.
Cheyenne Mail Order Bride is the thirteenth in The Mail Order Bride Series by Susan Leigh Carlton.
chapter one
Prologue
Jennie and Christopher Simpson married a month before he boarded the train that would take him to war. It was the happiest month of her life. At twenty-two, she had resigned herself to a life of spinsterhood when she met Christopher, whose family bought the farm adjacent to the Simpson farm.
He courted her for two years before he worked up enough courage to ask her to be his wife.
She took her virginity to her bridal bed, and relinquished it with eager delight. Christopher had no more experience than she did so they experimented and learned together. Then war came, and Christopher felt called to serve.
Christopher Goes To War
Yorkville, South Carolina 1862…
Christopher Simpson was resplendent in his gray uniform. He wore his gray hat at a rakish angle. “Surely,” Jennie thought, “he is the most handsome of all of the men in the 4th Regiment,” as she watched the South Carolina Infantry march onto the platform to board the train that would take them to war.
The small town band played enthusiastically, if not very well. The sounds of “Dixie” stirred everyone’s heart. Two mongrel dogs ran through the crowd in a barking frenzy. Small children clung fearfully to their mother’s long dresses.
It was time to go. He kissed Jennie goodbye. He told his slender red haired wife of one month, “I’ll be home before Christmas, Honey. It won’t take us too long to teach them Damnyankees what for,” Christopher said.
“Promise me you’ll be careful, and promise me you’ll come back to me,” she pleaded.
“I promise. Now don’t you worry your pretty head. I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised.
Casualty Lists were posted on the board at the depot on Thursdays. Each Thursday, Jennie waited there until the lists were posted, week after week, and then year after year.
Christopher did not get home for the first Christmas as he had promised. In November of 1863, he came home for a few days, when the 4th Regiment was merged with another unit. After the fourth day, he boarded another train, bound for Virginia. It would be the last time Jennie saw her beloved Christopher.
The Confederate forces were successful in the beginning. The casualty lists were short. Christopher’s unit played a part in the major victory at Chancellorsville, Virginia in May, 1863. From there he fought in the battle at Gettysburg. The list posted each Thursday grew longer. By the end of the war, York County would lose twenty one percent of her male population under the age of forty.
On Thursday, May 12, 1864, Jennie saw what she had feared since the outset of the war. Christopher was listed as killed in action, May 6, in Spotsylvania County, Virginia. It came to be known as the Battle of the Wilderness. He was one of 1,477 Confederate troops killed that day.
When she read his name, she fainted and fell to the plank-board floor of the depot. Her friend and neighbor, Louise Wilson tried to catch her but failed. Someone brought water from inside the depot. Louise dampened her handkerchief and placed it on Jennie’s forehead.
Two of the elderly men on the platform helped put her in Louise’s wagon. Louise took Jennie to her parent’s home, where she had been living since Christopher left.
Jennie was in the fifth month of her pregnancy and would give birth to the red faced Christopher Hall Simpson in September.
Years later…
On Jennie’s thirty third birthday, her mother had passed away and was laid to rest in the Adnah Church Cemetery. Jennie, Christopher, and her father were share cropping on the land they had once owned on the Adnah Church Road, outside Yorkville. The farm had been taken over by the bank when they were unable to repay the loan they had taken to pay taxes.
When her father’s health began failing and made him unable to work the farm properly, they barely scratched out enough to get by. Chris had grown into a strapping young man, strong and muscled from the hours he put in on the farm but it was more than a one man job. He dropped out of school to Jennie’s dismay to help with more of the farm work. She used her skill in sewing to make dresses for the ladies of Yorkville and supplement the meager widow’s pension she received monthly.
Jennie’s father in law’s home…
Jennie and Chris were visiting Clarence and Bess Simpson after church. She said, “Papa Clarence, I don’t know what we are going to do. Papa is barely able to get about any more and Chris is doing all he can. I didn’t like it, but he quit school to help. We only got two bales of cot
ton and the bank got one of those.”
“Mr. Tolliver at the bank told me if we don’t have a better year, the bank will take back the farm.
“I didn’t know things were so bad for you,” her father-in-law told her. “Why didn’t you come to us for help? We’re happy to share what we have.” he said.
“I’m worried about Papa. Since Mama passed, I think he’s lost the will to go on. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”
Bess looked up from her crocheting, and said, “We have this big old house here. You’re welcome to stay with us.”
Jennie’s eyes filled with moisture. “I appreciate that, Mama Bess. I truly do. I believe it would kill Papa to have to leave the farm,” Jennie said. “I think I’ll just have to tough it out. Maybe I can get more sewing.”
Two days later, Clarence showed up with his two mules and his plow and harrow. Two other men from neighboring farms came over, and together, they plowed the cotton fields and planted the cotton seed; seed the bank should have provided as their part of the share cropper agreement, but failed to do so..
“We’ll be back to help with the crop,” the neighbors promised.
Overwhelmed by their generosity, Jennie thanked them with tears streaming down her cheeks. When she went into the house, she found her father, sitting in his rocker.
“Time was, I didn’t have to have no one do my work for me. Now it’s come to this. “I tell you, life ain’t worth spit if you can’t do for yourself,” he said.
“Papa, don’t talk that way. You’re important to Chris and to me.
“I’m old and tired, Honey. Since your Mama passed, I’ve been just plain lonely. I miss her so much it hurts inside. We were together for fifty three years. Even with you and Christopher here, I feel empty inside.
Like most farmers, Tom Wisher rose early, built a fire in the kitchen stove and put coffee on to brew. On this morning, Jennie found a cold stove when she walked into the kitchen, and no sign of any activity. She knocked on his bedroom door and received no response.
Her senses on full alert, she entered the room. His time had come during the night, and Tom Wisher would not feel lonely any longer. He had joined his beloved Beulah. Two days later, his earthly remains were buried next to his wife in the Adnah Cemetery, side by side, just as they had been in life. They were joined for all eternity.
chapter Two
You Have To Move
Henry Bell stood in the doorway as Jennie and Chris passed the bank on the way to the mercantile. “We were sorry to hear your father passed away, Mrs. Simpson,” Mr. Bell, the owner of the Yorkville Bank, said.
“Thank you, Mr. Bell. I appreciate it. It wasn’t unexpected. He had been ailing for some time,” she said.
He cleared his throat, lowered his voice and said, “Mrs. Simpson, uhh I was wondering, might I call on you?”
“Why ever would you want to do that, Mr. Bell?”
“Why don’t you come inside so we can talk in private. This is not something that should be discussed in front of the boy.”
“I’m fine with talking here, Mr. Bell, My son is old enough to understand,” she said.
“Well, uh please call me Henry. Since my Clara died with the consumption, I’ve been rattling around in my big, empty house, and I was wondering if, uh… I… ahh might come courting you? I mean, you’ve been alone all of these years, and I’m alone now, perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?”
“What type of arrangement did you have in mind, Mr. Bell?” she asked.
“Well, ah… after a suitable time, of course, I thought perhaps we might marry. I mean uh… both of us being alone, we might comfort each other in our time of need.”
“My time of need, Mr. Bell? I don’t understand,” she said.
“With your father gone, our contract on the ahh… share cropping becomes void. The bank has a concern about its asset. Of course, if we were to be married, it would no longer be a concern,” he said.
“Mr. Bell, are you telling me that if I don’t permit you to call on me, the bank will make us move?”
“We do have our asset to protect,” Mrs. Simpson.
“How many other widows have you threatened, Mr. Bell?” she asked.
“I’m indeed sorry you’re taking this as some sort of threat, Mrs. Simpson, after all, you have a son to think of.” Bell said.
“Mr. Bell, my son has nothing to do with this, so kindly leave him out of this. Now, I have other matters I must take care of, so, if you’ll excuse me please?”
“Mama? He’s going to make trouble for us, isn’t he?” Chris asked. “He gives me the creeps, and his hair looks like it was slicked down with axle grease.”
“I don’t know son. Your grandpa said he would help I may come to that. I hope not.
A week later, the sheriff knocked on the door. “Mrs. Simpson? The court has issued an eviction notice on behalf of the bank. You have thirty days to vacate the premises.”
The Clarence Simpson farm…
“Papa Clarence, the sheriff left this yesterday.” She handed him the eviction notice.
“There’s more to it than the notice. He’s a vindictive man.” She told her father-in-law about the proposition he had made, and his reaction when she turned down his advances.
It made him mad. “Why that dirty, lowdown son-of -.a-b…
“Papa, mind your language. You know I don’t hold with that kind of talk in my house,” his wife said.
You did not want to have Clarence Simpson angry at you. He owned one of the largest cotton farms in York County, and his influence in the county was widespread.
“Jennie, we are going to pay Mr. Bell a visit,” he said.
Bell’s office at the bank…
“Bell, what is the meaning of this?” he said, and threw the eviction notice on the desk.
Henry Bell was intimidated by the imposing presence of Clarence Simpson. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Simpson.”
“What I mean is you made advances to my son’s widow and when she refused, you tried to kick her out of her home,” Clarence had raised his voice and the bank customers in the lobby began to take notice.
“There must be some kind of mistake here. I merely asked her permission to call on her. That was all.”
“If that was all, then why this eviction notice?” Clarence roared.
“The clerk must have not understood my request. All I wanted was to terminate the share cropping agreement. I didn’t say anything about an eviction,” Bell whined.
“There was a mistake all right, and you made it. I read the contract Tom Wisher signed. There is nothing in there that allows you to terminate as long as the tenant pays you the agreed upon share,” Clarence said, his voice still carrying to the lobby.
“Another thing, why haven’t you provided the cotton seed you were supposed to?” he asked.
“Well, I knew she couldn’t do the plowing and sowing,” Bell said.
“She didn’t have to,” Clarence roared. “Tom’s friends and neighbors took care of that. I paid for the seed. Now, you’re going to pay me back, and you’re going to do it now,
“Let me tell you what else you’re going to do. You will not come near my daughter-in-law again, with your smarmy propositions. She stays on her farm as long as it is her wish to do so. You will squash this eviction paper. And hear this, if you bother her again, I will move everything I have in this bank to Citizens, and I will encourage the rest of the good folk in this town to do the same. Do you understand?”
“What’s more, Sunday at church, I’m going to stand up and ask if you have tried this with any of the other widows around here. A lot of good men, including my son, gave their lives for the cause, and if I hear you have tried to swindle them, by God, I will come after you and it won’t be a happy scene.”
“I asked if you understand,” Clarence said.
In an almost inaudible voice, Bell said, “I understand.”
“Good. Get my money for the seed and l
et me get out if here. I’ve enjoyed all of you I can stand in one day,” Clarence said.
As they left the bank, Clarence wore a satisfied smile. “That felt good,” he said. “Nothing like a good fight to get your juices flowing.”
“Thank you,” Jennie said. “I see where Christopher got his spirit.”
“A man can’t stand by and let someone take advantage of his family and friends. Now, is there anything else you need to take care of while we’re in town?”
“No, Papa, I think you pretty much took care of everything,” she said.
chapter Three
Jennie Makes A Decision
Jennie’s garden flourished, providing them with plenty of vegetables for the table, a bounty she shared with Clarence and Mama Bess. She canned the tomatoes and okra for the coming non-growing season.
The cotton crop had been good, yielding four bales, two of which went to the bank. The other two bales brought a good price, allowing her to bolster her sagging finances.
“Mama Bess, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I have something to tell you. With Chris turning sixteen, it won’t be too many years before he leaves home, leaving me alone.
“I don’t want to be alone. I hope you don’t think I’m being unfaithful to Christopher’s memory, but I want someone to love me,” Jennie said.
“Why would I think you’re unfaithful?” Bess said. “He’s been gone a long time. I’ve often wondered why you have remained a widow all these years. It isn’t natural.”
“I’ve thought about it before. A lot. Chris is a fine boy, but I would like to have had more children, and the time has all but passed for that. Now, I need someone to hold me and share my dreams.
“The problem is there are no men my age. The war took them all, those left are either too young for me, or the men like Mr. Bell at the bank. The widowers are all Papa Clarence’s age, and I mean no disrespect to him, they’re too old. For me.”
Cheyenne Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Brides Book 13) Page 1