Cheyenne Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Brides Book 13)

by Susan Leigh Carlton

  “I spoke to Cora Hawkins after church Sunday and she told me her cousin, Margaret recently married, and she’s my age,” Jennie said.

  “Is she from around here, dear?” Bess asked.

  “Sort of. She’s from Hickory Grove.”

  “Did she marry someone from Hickory Grove?” Bess asked.

  “No, they’re as bad off as we are. You are not going to believe this, but she advertised for a husband in a newspaper!” Jennie said.

  “In the Enquirer?”

  “No. It was in a paper published in Kansas City, Missouri, New York and San Francisco. All they do is carry ads from men and women looking for someone to marry,” Jennie said.

  “Why, I never heard of such a thing,” Bess said.

  “I hadn’t either, and it sounds kind of scary, but I am scared. I don’t want to live my life out alone.

  “The name of the paper is The Matrimonial News. They don’t give out the names until they have permission. Margaret married a man who owns a ranch somewhere out west. Cora told me most of the men there had been miners.”

  “I don’t know. What kind of woman could plight her troth with a man she had never seen, much less met?” Bess asked.

  “I guess maybe a woman that was lonely and fearful of dying alone,” Jennie answered. “Like me.”

  “Could you do that?” her mother-in-law asked.

  “I think I could. It wouldn’t be easy, but I would try.”

  “What about Chris?” Bess asked.

  “He’s sixteen now. He’s old enough to decide for himself,” Jennie said.

  “This place is going to be his someday,” Bess said. “Would you consider him staying with us?”

  “It’s like I said. He’s old enough to know his own mind.”

  “Do you think any man would want to take on another man’s son?” Bess questioned.

  “I’d have nothing to do with one that wasn’t willing to take my child along with me.”

  * * *

  Back home…

  “Chris, do you want to stay on here at the farm, or would you like to move in with Papa Clarence and Mama Bess?”

  “If it’s all the same to you, Mama, I’d just as soon stay here. I can do all of the plowing and planting.”

  “You don’t think that would be too much for you to take on?”

  “No ma’am. I’m a grown man now. I ain’t afraid of work,” he boasted.

  Jennie smiled, her chest bursting with pride in her son. “You know, I believe you could.”

  “You like farming don’t you?” she asked.

  “Yessum I do. It’s what Papa did and I want to do it too,” he said.

  “Did I see you making eyes at that Carter girl, last Sunday,” she teased.

  His cheeks turned red. “Well, yessum, I guess maybe you did.”

  “Liking a girl is nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, you’re a man, you said so yourself. She’s a right pretty girl.”

  “I think so too,” he said.

  Papa Clarence Worries…

  “Jennie, Bess told me about this notion you have of going off to marry some stranger. Are you seriously thinking about it?” Clarence asked.

  “I haven’t done anything about it yet, but it’s a possibility,” Jennie answered. “Now, I have a question for you. Chris and I had a talk about remaining on the farm, or accepting your generous invitation. He wants to stay on the farm. He thinks he can handle it. It’s a lot of hard work. I’d like to have your opinion.”

  “I think you should give him the chance. I’ll keep an eye on things to make sure he gets help if he needs it.”

  “Thank you for that. I agree with you,” Jennie said.

  “Now about this other thing,” he said. “I would be very worried if you did something like that. I don’t think a woman is safe traveling across country. I would worry about you going to Rock Hill alone, and it’s only sixteen miles.

  “Papa, this Sunday at church, I want you to look over the congregation and see how many men my age that are marriageable. You won’t see any. Did you know that one out of five men under forty was killed in the war? York County had the highest casualty list in the state. That’s a distinction I wish we didn’t own.”

  Come Sunday, Clarence did as Jennie asked, The only unmarried men were widowers in their forties or older. Many of them would be snapped up as soon as their mourning period was over. In fact, they would have a choice of widows, if they so desired. They would not have to settle. For her part, Jennie vowed she would not settle for someone less than desirable,

  Later that evening…

  Jennie wrote a letter to the publisher of the Matrimonial News.

  Dear Editor, I am thirty four years of age and a war widow, I have a sixteen year old son and we sharecrop on a farm. I am a good cook and an accomplished seamstress. I seek to correspond with a man proportional in size, weight, and my approximate age. Children are no barrier. I have limited means, but I bring a sound mind and healthy body to marriage. My late husband always said I was attractive.

  She didn’t mail the letter, She tore it into small pieces and threw them in the fire. What was I thinking?” she wondered.

  chapter Four

  Cal Pierce

  Cal Pierce had read for the law with his uncle when he was twenty years old in his native Dallas. For five years, he worked in his uncle’s office until news of a gold discovery in Colorado infected him with a serious case of gold fever. He packed his few belongings and struck out for the gold fields, leaving behind a disappointed and disapproving uncle.

  One of thousands of would be miners all pursuing the same goal, the six feet two inch Texan chased his dream for over a year, with little luck until the day he chanced upon a bend in a creek while looking for a place to camp.

  Out of habit, he scooped some sand from the inside bank of the curve into his pan and filled the pan with water from the creek. He shook the pan back and forth, letting the water slosh across the sand. Flecks of color gleamed in the bottom.

  Whoa boy, what do you have here? He looked around, but he was alone. Wary of claim jumpers, he moved further downstream to avoid revealing his find.

  The next morning, he began working his way back up the creek. He stopped often to wash sand, but found nothing until he came to the bend of the previous night. For the next six months, he panned the area, and gradually increased the amount of the dust in his poke. By the end of the sixth month, it had played out but not before he had enough dust to grubstake him for several months. He purchased a mule and a two wheeled wagon from a discouraged and broke miner who was headed back to civilization.

  Leading the mule, he trudged back up the creek figuring the gold had been washed downstream by the current. Several days of walking had proved fruitless. The evening he found the three pound nugget changed all of that. The sunset had begun turning the western horizon into flames when he found it, lying on the ground along an outcropping of rock.

  He stowed the nugget in one of his packs, and moved back downstream two hundred yards and made a cold camp, not wanting a fire that might attract attention. He ate a can of beans and hard tack for his dinner, and spread his bedroll. Sleep did not come that night, and at first light, he moved back to where the nugget had been found.

  His excitement grew when he found nuggets on the ground, though none were as large as the first one. He gathered up all of the loose ones he could find.

  He staked and marked his claim, and filed on it when he went into Denver for supplies. For three years Cal worked the claim before he decided it was time to lead a more normal life.

  * * *

  Cal Pierce walked into the Wells Fargo Office in Denver, and stopped at a desk, behind which sat a man wearing a dark suit, a white shirt with a starched collar. “I understand you buy gold,” Cal said.

  “We do,” the man said. “I am Hiram Collins, manager of this institution. And you are…?”

  “Cal Pierce.” Cal shook the offered hand. “I have a sizable amount
of gold I would like to convert to hard money and a deposit.”

  “I can help you with your transaction, sir,” Collins said.

  “I do have some questions. I am going to be traveling around a lot. Do you do business in most cities?” Cal asked.

  “Indeed we do.” Collins unrolled a map showing the offices of Wells Fargo across the country. Satisfied with the widespread operations of the company, he asked, “If my account is in Denver, do I have access to it in your other cities?”

  “What we do is provide a letter of credit that authorizes you to draw on your funds from any of our offices, up to the amount in the letter. We also act as a correspondent bank with many of the institutions in the larger cities,” Collins answered.

  After negotiating for the sale of almost all of his gold, and with his letter of credit, along with a sizeable amount of US currency, Cal thanked Collins. He was now officially a man of wealth.

  * * *

  The cattle market in Texas had suffered dearly after the Civil War. When the price of cattle locally, dropped below five dollars per head, the cattlemen became desperate. Cal’s time as a miner had shown him the scarcity of beef in the mining camps. He learned cattle could be sold for ten to twenty times as much in the mining towns, and he decided to take advantage of his knowledge.

  In Texas, he purchased three thousand head of cattle and hired fifteen drovers, whom he paid $30 per month and a trail boss who was paid $125 per month. In the spring of 1866, the trail boss called out the command, “Head ‘em up, move ‘em out” and the drive started. Moving less than fifteen miles per day, it would take two months for them to reach Cheyenne.

  It was normal to lose a few head during a drive. It was also normal to pick up a few strays from other drives. As an incentive, Cal told the trail boss, he would pay a bonus of one dollar for each stray added along the way. The herd contained 3,523 head when it arrived in Cheyenne. The fifteen drovers and the trail boss divided a bonus of $523 between them.

  After leaving the herd with the trail boss, Cal traveled to Cheyenne. He checked in to the Frontier Hotel. The next morning he went to the Wells Fargo Bank.

  “I’m Cal Pierce,” he introduced himself to Charles Hastings, the manager, and handed him the letter of credit. “I have a herd on its way up from Texas. I am looking to buy some land, and make my home in Cheyenne. I plan on transferring my account to Cheyenne.”

  “Mr. Pierce, it will be my pleasure to help you in any way possible,” Hastings said. “When do you expect your herd to arrive?”

  “It should be here in six or seven weeks,” Cal said. “In the meantime, I’m looking to buy some land.”

  “How much land are you looking for?” Hastings asked.

  “I intend to get a homestead and then add to it. I plan to keep part of my herd and begin raising cattle myself,” Cal said.

  “I don’t know how wise that is,” Hastings said. “It gets pretty cold during the winter.”

  “These are Texas cattle and I think they will winter over just fine. At any rate, I intend to give it a try.”

  chapter Five

  The CP Ranch

  Cal introduced himself to the man behind the desk at the Cheyenne Land and Cattle Company. “I’m looking for a nice sized piece of land, I’d like to have water on it. I would also like to have timber.”

  “I’m Jim Logan,” the man said. “What are you going to use the land for, Mr. Pierce?”

  “I’ve decided I am going to raise cattle,” Cal replied.

  “That’s not done much around here,” the man said.

  “No it isn’t and there’s a real opportunity ripe for the picking. I won’t have much competition,” Cal replied.

  Logan said, “This map covers the area around Cheyenne. Let’s take a look at what's available.

  “This is Crow Creek. The mining was pretty active there, but it is pretty well played out now and the miners have moved on. Most of the land out in this area can be bought for one dollar per acre.”

  “How would I go about purchasing about 20,000 acres, along Crow Creek, either or both sides?”

  “Well, it’s railroad land, belonging to Union Pacific. If you pay for the telegram, I will wire them the offer,” Logan said.

  “Using the various rights granted by law, you can get an additional 1,120 acres for 25¢ per acre, after three years, you would have to pay a dollar per acre to gain title.”

  “Do I need to have a lawyer draw up papers or anything?” Cal asked.

  “We can do all of that here in the office,” Logan said.

  “I would be willing to pay an additional $50 if you need to put extra time in on this,” Cal said.

  “I’ll get right on this, Mr. Pierce.”

  “Good, I have a herd due in here in six weeks. I’d like to have a place of my own to put them out to graze,” Cal said,

  “I understand, Mr. Pierce. I do have a question. Are you planning to live on the property? It would be necessary on the homestead portion.”

  “Yes, I intend to put up a house and outbuildings,” Cal said.

  “Since you are in a hurry, I would suggest you talk to Mr. Chang, at the laundry. I do believe he could find enough skilled people to put up a house for you in short order. After the railroad passed through, many of the Chinese laborers stayed behind and are farming and such. I understand they are available for hire.”

  “Mr. Logan, you’re a man after my own heart,” Cal said. “I will look into it.”

  Six weeks later…

  The Circle CP ranch was ready to receive its first herd. A well had been dug on a small rise above what would be the site for the ranch house. A basic structure to house the cowboys had been erected. Now all it needed was cattle and they were due in ten days.

  Several buyers for slaughter houses in the east had gathered after hearing of the impending arrival of a large herd. Cal met with them in the Frontier Hotel, where he was living while awaiting the completion of his ranch house.

  “Gentlemen, word from the trail is, I will have 2,500 head available for sale in ten days. I’m going to make this process fair and easy. Rather than dicker back and forth, I would like to have your bids on the number of head, with a minimum of 1,000, you would like to have. Each of you may submit one bid.”

  “Aren’t you being rather arbitrary with your rules?” asked one of the buyers.

  “You know, when I came down for this meeting, I took a good look around, and I didn’t see one other herd available, nor have I heard of another on the trail. If you want to wait for one to materialize, then I thank you for stopping in this morning,” Cal finished.

  “Might I have a word with you, sir?” an Army captain asked.

  “Yes, what can I do for the Army?” Cal asked.

  “Sir, the Army will need 1,500 head of your cattle,” the captain said.

  “Submit your bid, and if you are the high bidder, you shall have them,” Cal replied.

  “I don’t think you understood me, sir. The Army needs 1,500 of your cattle,” the captain said.

  “Captain, are you telling me you will take my cattle by force? I don’t believe the Army has that authority. These good people came here today because they also have need of beef. Now, you are welcome to participate in the bidding process. There will be one bid only.”

  When Cal opened the bids, he found a range of $53 to $60 per head. The Army’s high bid of $60 carried the day, and Cal netted a goodly profit.

  When the trail boss brought the herd in, the Army took their cattle, and the other high bidder took his, leaving Cal with 1,023 head to start his own herd.

  The drovers and trail boss were paid, with most of the drover’s money spent in the saloons and on fancy girls.

  “Clay, I’m going to need a foreman. Are you interested in the job?” Cal said to the trail boss.

  “I’ll be square with you, Mr. Pierce. I figure five more years of driving herds, and I’ll be able to get my own spread. I’m thinking I’m going to head back to Texas and b
ring another herd north next year.

  “What would you do until spring when you start the drive?” Cal asked.

  “I’ll catch on with one of the ranches until the time comes,” Clay said.

  “Well, if you worked for me, the pay would be $60 per month and found. You would have this every month, and you might make your dream come true sooner. Think on it. I’ll hold it open for a few days:

  Cal offered the drovers a job on the Circle CP ranch, and of the fifteen, seven accepted. The Circle CP now had a crew and a herd.

  Cal rode with them when they drove the herd to the ranch. The bunkhouse was ready for occupancy and Cal saw they were settled. He had hired the cook from the trail drive and arranged for the purchase of the necessary goods to feed the crew.

  Cal was in the café down the street from his hotel, sipping his coffee and waiting for his food, when Clay Terwilliger stopped at his table.

  “Mr. Pierce, if the offer is still open, I’d like to take you up on it.”

  “Have some breakfast, Clay and we’ll talk, “Cal said.

  Clay sat down and gave the waitress his order. Cal asked him, “What made you change your mind?”

  “Well, sir, I got to thinking on what you said about being paid every month, it sounds good, and the pay is good.

  “The trail is hard, and I ain’t getting no younger. I reckon it’s time I put down some roots. When do you want me to start?

  “You have a job. Start whenever you’re ready. I hired seven men from the drive. You hire and fire as you see fit. I don’t know anything about ranching, but I’m a good business man, and being that, I’m going to rely on you to keep us going in the right direction.”

  chapter six

  Jennie’s Ad

  The front porch at Jennie Simpson’s farm…

  I’ve been putting this off long enough. I’m going to find out about that Matrimonial News thing. With that thought, Jennie stopped the swing and went into the house looking for paper and a pencil.