Ophelia (Bride Brigade Book 4)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Bride Brigade:

  Ophelia

  Book Four

  By

  Caroline Clemmons

  Bride Brigade: Ophelia

  Book Four

  Caroline Clemmons

  Copyright 2016 Caroline Clemmons

  Cover Graphics

  Front cover Skye Moncrief

  Back cover Lilburn Smith

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Tarnation, Texas 1873

  “Most of the welts are crusted, but two are still weeping.” Ophelia Shipp’s best friend and roommate, Josephine Nailor, applied more of the unguent their hostess had shared.

  “I give thanks every day that Lydia let us join her group of women.” Ophelia winced as her friend touched an especially tender spot.”

  Josephine’s touch lightened. “After you fainted at her feet in that hotel room, she had no choice but to render aid.”

  “There’s always a choice. She could have left us and taken the other four to the train for the trip here.” Ophelia hated the thought of what would have happened to her best friend and her had they been left on their own in Richmond.

  “Fortunately for us, she’s too kind to abandon us.”

  Ophelia lay on her stomach in their room at Lydia Harrison’s large plantation-style Texas home. The trip from Virginia to Tarnation, Texas had both saved and exhausted her. Gracious Lydia had provided the means for her trip to this small town with six other young women.

  With no single women in town, Lydia had been determined to bring marriageable women to Tarnation to meet bachelors. She’d invited the women at her expense and offered them a place to stay in her home as long as they needed. And she’d promised several events at which the seven women could meet the town’s finest bachelors.

  Ophelia couldn’t keep her musings a secret. “Imagine having the money to just up and rent a railroad car. Her home is luxurious, but she’s such a good hostess that she seems like one of us.”

  Pa’s last beating had broken two of Ophelia’s ribs and may have damaged her kidneys because she’d had blood in her urine for a week. How could he think he was a saintly man doing God’s will when he’d nearly killed her—as Ophelia believed his abuse had killed her mother.

  Josephine touched a less painful area. “Your bruises are yellow now. Ophelia, if he did this to you for spilling a third of a pail of milk, you’d likely be dead if you’d spilled the entire bucket.” Her voice hardened. “Oh, I swear if I had your father in sight, I’d choke the man or give him a taste of how a beating with a whip feels.”

  The salve’s pungent smell mingled with the floral scents drifting through the open window. A gentle breeze cooled Ophelia’s exposed back. Though the lash marks were healing, her ribs and lower back ached whenever she moved. Yet, she didn’t want her friend filled with hatred.

  “Jo, we can’t sink to Pa’s level. However misguided, he truly believes he’s right. Worse, Brother John agrees with him and feeds his fervor with his sermons.”

  Anger punctuated her friend’s voice. “Humph, that worthless John Webster may pretend to be a minister of his tiny congregation, but he’s as warped as your father.”

  Gentle as her hands were, Josephine spat her words. “I’m sorry to speak ill of your pa, Ophelia, but there’s something mighty wrong with his mind. Normal men don’t think like he does. Even as depraved as my papa is, he’s never beaten a woman.”

  “You’re right, but a lifetime of training to be obedient and ‘honor thy father and mother’ isn’t easy to overcome. After all, the Bible doesn’t say to only honor them if they deserve your respect.”

  Ophelia flicked her wrist as if she could whisk away her memories. “Doesn’t matter now. Remember you promised you won’t let your papa know where we are until we’re both wed. I know he’d do something to get me back as his servant.”

  “You mean slave, but I remember my promise. You’re twenty-two, Ophelia, well above the age of majority. Now you’re here, your father can’t legally force you to do anything.”

  Panic knotted her insides. “But, he’d try and I just know he’d cause trouble. I’m not strong enough to stand up to him yet. You have no idea what he’s like when he’s angry.”

  And no one knew how beaten down inside she felt. Years of being told she was sinful and worthless had taken their toll. Ophelia sighed when her roommate pulled the soft nightgown down her back.

  Josephine replaced the cap on the jar. “I’ve never seen him beat you or I’d have tried to stop him, but certainly I can see evidence of what he’s like from your back.”

  “Trying to stop him would have meant you’d have gotten the lash for your trouble. Thank goodness, we’re away and he’ll never hit me again.”

  At the same time she feared Pa would come after her, she wondered if someone else was helping her pa with all the chores she’d done for him. Perhaps one of her brothers had consented. She shouldn’t care but she couldn’t help wondering. Old habits die hard.

  Sighing, she resolved not to think of the past. Thanks to Lydia Harrison, all seven of the rescued girls had a chance to start over. Ophelia didn’t know what the other girls were leaving behind, but she and Jo had nothing to which they could or would ever return.

  Ophelia vowed to find a kind man to marry, one who would never beat her or any children they might have. She didn’t care about wealth, for she was used to hard work and watching her pennies. She wouldn’t mind that as long as she had a husband who respected her and treated her with consideration. A compliment or occasional words of praise would be a bonus.

  Gentle as a mother with her baby, Josephine tucked the sheet loosely over her shoulders. “Go to sleep. I’ll get ready for bed, too. I’m exhausted. The railroad car to Fort Worth was a treat, but that stage almost loosened my teeth with all the bumps and shakes. I’ll bet my rear is sore for days. I don’t know how you could stand it with broken ribs and a bleeding back.”

  Ophelia heard her friend changing into her night clothes. “Since Shipp is my last name, I pretended I was on a ship sailing off to an island. Sure enough, here we are in our island’s own special luxury hotel and there aren’t even any room charges.”

  Her roommate crawled between the sheets. “I’ll deal with our clothes in the morning. Let’s sail off to sleep, shall we?”

  Long ago Ophelia had learned the only way to endure her pain was to pretend it didn’t exist. If Pa had known, he would have beaten her for daydreaming and pretending. God forgive her, but the times he’d caught her she’d lied and said she was going over Bible verses in her head.

  Now she didn’t have to worry about a misstep or misconstrued word. She was safe for the first time in her life. She smiled, closed her eyes, and drifted on the breeze from the window.

  The next morning, Ophelia woke with excitement. She wasn’t sure any man would want her for his bride, but there were many more men than women here. Surely she could find someone who would accept a shy woman whose back was scarred, but who was willing to work hard. Once again, she wished she were as outgoing and strong as Josephine.

  Lydia had assured them that with so many marriageable men
to choose from, they were each bound to find a suitable husband. Lydia had named the occupations of the town’s bachelors, including several ranchers and cowboys, a banker, a store owner, a minister, a saloon owner, a newspaperman, a doctor, a freight office owner… after that Ophelia’d lost count. Maybe she’d draw the minister or doctor or a rancher.

  Josephine smiled at her and tugged at her braid. “You’re daydreaming again. Better get a move on or we’ll be late for breakfast. Not a good way to start the first day and our visit.”

  She fastened her shoes. “You’re right, but I’m too excited to concentrate. So many good possibilities await us.”

  Not everyone had shown up for supper last night due to exhaustion from their trip, but all seven of them were on hand for breakfast.

  Looking elegant in her favorite color of lavender and with her dark brown hair in a neat chignon, Lydia clapped her hands as she always did before an announcement. “In case you didn’t hear me yesterday when we arrived, Saturday afternoon at four will be our first reception to introduce you to the bachelors in town. Fifteen men I consider suitable have accepted the invitation, but the minister has declined this first event. If one of these men asks you for a stroll or a meal or a brief buggy ride, you don’t have to worry about consenting.”

  Rachel pulled a wry face. “So, we only have to worry that they won’t ask us?”

  Everyone laughed.

  Lydia gazed around the table. “They will, never fear. I believe each of you will find the ideal man for you. I am so glad to have you here in Tarnation. Not only do I hope you soon wed the perfect man for you and remain in Tarnation, but I hope you have a lot of children. ”

  Their hostess sent each one a glance filled with obvious fondness. “Today, we’ll all rest up from our trip. Tomorrow, I’ll need each of you to pitch in and get ready for the reception. As I explained, you’ll be expected to help Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Greenberg with serving, clean up, and housework. Neither lady signed on to be mother hen for eight of us.”

  Angeline asked, “What about those like me who know how to cook but not clean?”

  A smile creased Lydia’s pretty face. “That’s a good question. Here is your chance to learn. By the time you’ve been here a couple of weeks, you’ll know how to entertain so you’ll do your husband proud and learn how to run a household so well you’ll make a competent wife.”

  Ophelia leaned against the table’s edge and hoped no one noticed. As was her custom in a group, she kept silent. Those around her chattered about their hopes, but she enjoyed the enthusiastic company. Basking in the stimulation this group provided her, she carried her dishes to the kitchen.

  The plump, cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Murphy, accepted them. “Thank you. Now be off to rest with the others.”

  Unused to leisure time, Ophelia wondered what to do with her day. On the train and stage, she’d stared out the window at the passing scenery. Realizing she needed to stop daydreaming so much and live her life, she vowed to stick with reality beginning that day.

  ***

  Saturday afternoon brought men clamoring to the door, forming a queue before time for the reception. Lydia and the girls formed a receiving line then Mrs. Murphy admitted the visitors. Ophelia greeted each man with her name as instructed but felt like a bug captured in a jar. She didn’t stand a chance of remembering most of the names.

  One name she would remember was Elias Kendrick, a man with kind brown eyes and dark, reddish brown hair. He gazed at her kindly, as if he saw the real her. His smile soothed her fears and he welcomed her to Tarnation with what she thought was sincerity. As he did so, he cradled her hand in both of his. The shock of tingles zinging through her body stunned her and she could only mumble a reply.

  As he moved down the line, she heard him joking and making charming comments to each girl. How she wished she could come up with clever things to reply as Rachel and Josephine had. Instead, she’d become as tongue-tied as if she were a babbling idiot. What must Mr. Kendrick think of her?

  The next man was a workman for she felt the calluses on his hand. “I’m Vadim Kozlov. I’ve come to welcome you ladies to town but I won’t be wedding anyone here. I have a fiancée in Poland, but please don’t think badly of me for coming. Mrs. Harrison knows this and was kind enough to invite me anyway.”

  She relaxed since he didn’t intend to court her. “You must tell me all about your fiancée when you can, Mr. Kozlov.”

  His smile broadened and his dark eyes sparkled. “I’m always happy to talk about Natka Bukoski to anyone who will listen.”

  “You’ll find I’m better at listening than talking.” Wasn’t that an understatement?

  He bowed over her hand. “Then perhaps you’ll accompany me to the opera house opening performance in two weeks.”

  “I’ll look forward to that, Mr. Kozlov.”

  When the last man had proceeded through the greeting line, the women dispersed to mingle. Except Ophelia, who sat near a corner. She enjoyed watching and listening to those around her. Try as she would, she simply couldn’t force herself to join the others.

  Mr. Kendrick strolled toward her holding a cup and a plate filled with samples of Mrs. Murphy’s delicacies. “You look as if you could use punch and a snack.”

  She fought for something clever to say, but nothing came. At least she mustered a smile. “Thank you. I am thirsty after introducing myself so many times.”

  He sat in the chair separated from hers by a small table. “Nice shindig, isn’t it?”

  How she admired his ease and friendliness. She took a sip of punch before answering. “I love watching and listening. Everyone appears so happy and excited.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What about you? Are you happy or excited?”

  She couldn’t prevent a grin. “Both. Being in Lydia’s home is so pleasant and the other women are very nice. This morning I woke up excited about this event.”

  “Me, too.” He chuckled. “What brings you to Tarnation, Miss Shipp?”

  “Same as the others I suppose and there’s no point pretending otherwise. I want a kind husband, a secure home, and children. This appears to be a nice town even though it’s small. I notice there’s even an opera house.”

  His smile broadened. “That there is. In fact, I built the opera house only a year ago. The manager and I try for a variety of acts so that by the end of the season, everyone has enjoyed at least a couple of shows.”

  She leaned forward, happy to know he was so fair-minded. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy them all. Actually, I’ve never been to a live performance.” Oops, why did she have to confess that?

  He leaned back and his eyes widened. “Never? You mean except at school, of course.”

  A blush’s heat seared her face. How embarrassing to admit she was a country bumpkin who had done nothing. “My father was very strict. I couldn’t appear in or attend school plays. Mr. Kozlov has invited me to the opera house opening performance in two weeks. I’m looking forward to the event.”

  Was that disappointment she saw flash across his face? “You’ll enjoy Geraldine Chitwood. We were exceptionally fortunate to book her. Normally, she only plays larger towns more easily reached. Being without railway access places us at a severe disadvantage.”

  She had to stop herself from rubbing her sore rear. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten that stage ride.” She leaned toward him. “Tell me about yourself, Mr. Kendrick. Besides owning the opera house, I mean.”

  “I’m twenty-nine and never married.” He took a deep breath and averted his gaze before he spoke. “If you led such a quiet life that you weren’t allowed to attend plays, then you’ll no doubt look down on me because, as well as the opera house, I own the local saloon.”

  She hoped she hid her surprise that Lydia had included a saloon owner in this group of “acceptable” men. What should she say? A saloon owner here went against everything she’d ever been told. Yet, didn’t she trust Lydia? And, Mr. Kendrick appeared so nice. Think, what would Lydia or Jo say?

/>   “I seek never to pass judgment, Mr. Kendrick. I don’t approve of drunkenness but I know most men enjoy meeting with others and sharing a drink or game of cards.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Very broad-minded of you. Do you play cards, Miss Shipp?”

  Relief relaxed her and she couldn’t help laughing at his question. “I don’t play anything. All I’ve ever done is work.”

  A frown marred his handsome face. “Ah, no wonder you chose to leave home. I guarantee Mrs. Harrison will see you enjoy yourself here. She’s a wonderful hostess.”

  “That she is. And she says we’re going to learn many things while we’re here.” She leaned forward, feeling quite daring. “Yesterday I learned to play checkers.”

  He placed a hand on his chest and widened his eyes. “I’m shocked.”

  She tilted her head but couldn’t keep from grinning at him. “Don’t make fun, Sir. I intend to soak up new experiences daily.”

  “Good for you.”

  A man she thought might be the deputy sheriff stopped near Mr. Kendrick. “You trying to monopolize this young lady?”

  Mr. Kendrick stood and bowed over her hand. “My apologies, Miss Shipp.” He straightened and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Stanton, see you around.”

  Deputy Stanton was handsome, actually more so than Mr. Kendrick. Still, she couldn’t deny she hated to see the men change places. Something about Mr. Kendrick fascinated her more than anyone she’d ever met. No, she mustn’t be attracted to him, for he must be a shameful man to own a saloon.

  The deputy sat in the chair then looked as if he would jump up again. “Would you like more punch or food?”

  She held up her hand then set her plate and cup on the table between them. “No, thank you. I seem to recall that you’re a deputy sheriff, is that right?”

  He appeared pleased she’d remembered. “Yes, I’ve worked for Adam Penders for the last three years.”

  Interested in his job, she leaned toward him. “That sounds dangerous.”

  He shook his head. “Not so far. Adam runs a clean town so there’s not much trouble. He intends to keep the place that way. I enjoy what I do.”