by Zina Abbott
Eddie Joe knew Mrs. Millard kept the originals of the first letters from both the prospective brides and grooms in order to match them using her graphology method. This letter was a transcribed copy in her handwriting. As he read through it, it seemed rather strange to see the well-educated woman’s script craft the sentences full of misspelled words and a pattern of speech different than his own. Then again, maybe it was not this woman’s grammar that was lacking. Maybe it was his.
After all, he had barely finished eighth grade when he left home at the age of seventeen, his schooling being rather sketchy due to his parents’ frequent moves and the need for him to help on their ranch. The ranch education his grandfather had provided after his father passed had done him more good than the book-learning, except his ability to do figures had been a big factor in him moving up to foreman. As for his handwriting and spelling, he knew it left much to be desired.
Eddie Joe focused on what she had to say. Her name was Henrietta Crabtree, but family and friends called her Etta. She was a farm girl. She was now helping her brother bring in the harvest, but at age twenty was looking to get married once that was done. She listed all the work she was capable of performing. Although she knew field work, she also knew how to keep house. It was just that summer with her mother, two sisters and a sister-in-law to take care of things in the house, she was needed outside more than in.
Sounds like she is a hard worker.
He looked for a physical description of her. She was blonde, blue eyed and “a mite on the thin side.” She must be short, Eddie Joe guessed, because she made a comment about being the runt of the family. She claimed her ma said she took after a great-grandmother, but Etta assured him in the letter, given the size of her parents and siblings, she would produce mostly good-sized children.
Eddie Joe wondered about that statement. She must be small enough she had been teased by her size, or lack of it. However, the blonde hair and blue eyes part sounded good.
What really decided Eddie Joe about whether or not to write back to her was her response about her future home on the ranch. She said living on a ranch sounded like heaven to her. She liked living on a farm where people were not piled on top of each other. She didn’t think she could ever live in a town. She liked the idea of having a cabin a little ways away from everyone else on the ranch, and two rooms would be plenty big. If Monarch Bend was only a little over a mile away and she could go there to get the basics when supplies ran low, that suited her just fine.
From what Etta Crabtree wrote, she was not used to having much, and she didn’t expect much. She probably would be content with what he could provide her at first, and she would be patient as he worked to add to the cabin and their furnishings. He had a good feeling about her.
Yep, he was pretty sure she was the one for him.
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MONARCH BEND, COLORADO – AUGUST, 1881
CHAPTER 7
~o0o~
About the time Eddie Joe had decided things were looking up with him finding a wife who would be happy living on the ranch and being married to him, things went south with his boss. He knew it the morning he entered the ranch office for his daily meeting with Zeb and found his boss seated behind his desk, his forearms leaning on the top as the man bent forward, and a glare in his eyes.
“Something you want to tell me, Eddie Joe?”
Eddie Joe affected a casual shrug. “Just things are going good with fall round-up. Think we’ll have most of the herd back in the valley by the end of next week. Yesterday, Cooksie took the last of the supplies you picked up a couple of weeks ago out to the two far line cabins, so he should be back tomorrow night. The grub situation’s been a little tough, but we’ve been managing. He left us enough biscuits and smoked ham, plus a pot of beans to heat up and notes on how many airtights to open for tonight, plus a receipt on how to stir up flapjacks. We’ve been getting by.”
Eddie Joe forced his body to stay still as Zeb gave him the gimlet eye. Then the boss spoke softly. Too softly. Eddie Joe held his breath.
“I’m not concerned about Cooksie and the line cabins and what you’re going to eat.” The man paused. “A wood stove, Eddie Joe?” Where were you planning on putting another wood stove? This one for cooking, too, from what I could see when Rusty pulled up in the yard with it loaded in the back of the buckboard. In addition to more food supplies, did Cooksie tell you he needed a second stove to cook it all up?”
Eddie Joe cleared his throat. “Rusty went to the Springs?”
Dang that Rusty. He never could keep his mouth shut. He should have come to me first, not the boss.
Zeb Jacobson kept his voice slow and even.
Not a good sign, Eddie Joe realized.
“Rusty and I went to the Springs. I wanted to see my betrothed to make sure everything was set for the wedding. I took Rusty and the buckboard so I could bring back any of her things she didn’t need for the wedding trip, plus whatever items she wanted for the house when we return from Denver. Imagine my surprise when Simon Brinks said a wood stove and accompanying pipe you purchased was in, and he wondered if I had room on the buckboard for that, too.”
“Ah, yeah, Boss, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Just been waiting for the right time.”
“Now seems like a real good time, Eddie Joe. We’ve got two bunk houses, one with the mess hall attached with the cook stove, and the other with the one-burner to keep coffee hot and the men warm in winter. If you needed another stove, I don’t know why you didn’t clear it with me first, especially since I cannot for the life of me figure out where you plan to put it. Then there’s the matter of when I asked Simon about how much it cost so I could settle up the bill, he told me the stove and pipe were in your name, and you paid for it.”
Eddie Joe tapped his fingertips on the tops of his thighs. He hadn’t wanted the boss to find out what he was up to, not just yet. He’d hoped to get the man married on the first Sunday of October, as planned. After that, he intended to spring it on him just before the happy newlyweds boarded the train to Denver for their combination honeymoon and buying trip. The hope had been, no matter how angry the boss got over the notion of Eddie Joe building his own house and bringing a new wife onto the ranch, the boss would be so happy with his own wife, he would get over it by the time he returned home.
Zeb leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. “I’m waiting, Eddie Joe.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, Boss. You know, with the three additional men you brought on this past year, the bunkhouses have been getting a mite crowded. I thought it was about time to do something about it.”
“If you wanted to build another bunkhouse, how come you didn’t run it by me first? This is still my ranch, and it’s my money that pays for any new housing.”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking of a new bunkhouse, Boss. With me being the foreman, and all, I was thinking of a foreman’s house. That’s why I figured on building it with my own money.” Eddie Joe forced a bright grin on his face.
“And it didn’t occur to you that me being the owner of this ranch, and all…” Zeb paused for effect. “…maybe I should approve you claiming a piece of my land to build your ranch foreman’s house?”
Eddie Joe cleared his throat. “I planned on telling you, Boss, but I figured on waiting…”
Zeb cut him off. “You figured on waiting until I was distracted by my upcoming marriage, and you could get it past me without me saying much. Where were you planning on building it?”
“About a quarter mile up Monarch River. There’s a real nice knoll with a few trees. Close enough to water, so’s I don’t have to dig too deep to get a good well, but high enough to escape most flooding of the river.”
Zeb started rocking back and forth on the back legs of his chair.
Definitely not a good sign, Eddie Joe realized.
“So, tell me, Eddie Joe. How come you decided to bu
ild it so far from the main ranch house and bunkhouses—you being the foreman, and all?”
“Well, sir…” Eddie Joe scrunched his face and scratched where his hatband flattened his hair. He knew he made a mistake by calling the boss “sir.” That was a dead giveaway he was up to something. There was nothing else to do but to spill the whole bag of beans and let them scatter as they may. “Well, boss, I was thinking of it more in terms of married foreman’s housing. I figure if I bring a wife onto the ranch, the bunkhouse is no place for her. But out there, it’s close enough to see from here, but far enough away not to be parading a woman in the faces of the men. Not all of them are trustworthy when it comes to women.”
Eddie Joe held his breath as Zeb narrowed his eyes while studying him. At least he had stopped rocking that dang chair of his.
“Married foreman’s housing, huh? I figured you were up to something. Rusty said when you went back to the Springs the night they did the fireworks, he saw you talking to the woman who brought the brides to Jubilee Springs for the miners. I wondered if you were just curious on my behalf, or if you had a personal interest.” The front legs of Zeb’s chair slammed onto the floor, and once again Zeb leaned forward onto his desk, his body propped on folded forearms. “So, how come I’m just now hearing about this?” Zeb leaned back and raised his pointer finger towards the ceiling. “Wait. Let me guess. You sure were pushing hard for me to get married. Now, why would that be? Could it have been because you figured if I was happily married and distracted by my new wife, I wouldn’t deny you the opportunity for your own wedded bliss?”
“Something like that.” Eddie Joe desperately wanted to look away and stare at the side wall of the office, but he knew his best course of action was to meet his boss’s intense glare. He forced himself to breathe normally in the seconds of silence that followed.
“Tell me your plans, Eddie Joe.”
Eddie Joe heaved a sigh of relief. There was no sting in the boss’s demand. “I’ve got a two-room house with a loft in mind. Most of the lumber I need is already bought and stacked behind the barn. From what you say, the stove’s in. I’m waiting on the shingles, windows, and supplies for the well including the pump. I figure I’ll get what is necessary in the house, including some foodstuffs. And you know Cooksie does biscuits and cornbread, but no yeast bread. I figured if the woman I marry is agreeable, I’ll trade some bread she bakes for enough of the food supplies I’d get if I ate in the bunkhouse. The men would like some real bread, so I reasoned Cooksie would go for that.” Eddie Joe stopped and offered his boss a grin.
“You’ve been sending letters to women. I thought maybe you decided to write to married sisters, but I couldn’t account for you suddenly showing so much interest after all this time. You sent for one of them yet?”
Eddie Joe shook his head. “The first two didn’t work out. I got a letter from a new one, and I’m pretty sure she’s who I want. I figure on one more letter exchange to be sure, and then I’ll send for her next month.” What he didn’t say was he had planned to send for her while the boss was gone on his wedding trip.
Deep in thought, Zeb leaned back and stared above Eddie Joe’s head, jerking his jaw side to side to crack his neck. “You still have all your receipts for what you’ve bought so far, Eddie Joe?”
Not sure where this was going, Eddie Joe’s answer came hesitantly. “Yeah.”
“I’m not having you pay for a foreman’s house on my property, Eddie Joe. I’ll reimburse you for the wood and supplies to build the structure, plus I’ll buy the stove and everything that goes with the well, pump and the sink. You decide to up and leave me for whatever reason, the house, stove and pump stays here. You worry about what else goes inside. That’s yours to keep.”
“Honest, Boss?”
“Yes, Eddie Joe. I ought to wring your neck for pulling a stunt like this, but I guess I can understand your point. Besides, depending on what kind of person you marry, Bessie will probably like the idea of having another woman besides Juanita fairly close. You get things settled and bring your bride here. And if it doesn’t work out for you, I don’t want to hear any whining about the problems of being a married man. Got it?”
A sparkle of happiness and relief in his eye, Eddie Joe’s grin was sincere this time. “Thanks, Boss. I’ll do that.”
“When do you figure on getting it built?”
“After round-up is complete. I figure for the men we have, I’ll put some to regular ranch chores and hire Norbert to help me build the house. He’s done carpenter work before, but he says it’s not regular enough work for him, which is why he’s here.”
“He the one you’ve been using to keep the buildings in good shape?” At Eddie Joe’s nod, Zeb continued. “Have him and whoever else you need build that house. Since it’s my house on my land, it will just be part of their regular pay. Same with whoever you choose to dig that well and get the plumbing installed. Build a closed-in lean-to big enough to do laundry in the winter and to stack some wood. I suggest you build a necessary suitable for a woman out of sight of the main ranch. We’ll probably want to add on a bathing room as time goes on. Women like those kinds of things, especially since she probably won’t want to use the same bath house as the men. If you need to buy more to do it, put it on my account.”
“Will do, Boss.”
“When were you going to send for her, assuming you aren’t discouraged by her next letter? Wait. Let me guess. You intended to drop your plan on me as I was boarding the train with my new wife, then buying her train tickets to send with a letter telling her to come.”
“Something like that, Boss.”
“Well, get things set up for her first, then if she’s the one, send for her. I think we’re done here.” Zeb rose from his chair and mumbled. “I just hope I’m not going to regret this.”
Eddie Joe left the office feeling elated. With the boss picking up the tab for the house, stove and pump, he would be able to order a decent bed and maybe some other furniture for the house. Most of the furniture, he’d wait for his new wife to arrive so she could help pick it out. She should like that. But, a decent bed to sleep in, that he would order next time he went into Jubilee Springs.
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OUTSIDE KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI – SEPTEMBER, 1881
CHAPTER 8
~o0o~
Mary Dowell waited until Etta had finished her supper and had a chance to rest while Ginny and Sarah did the dishes. As usual, Annalee complained that Etta should help, too. Once again, Mary had shut her up by pointing out that Etta had worked the same hours at Cal, and Annalee surely did not expect her husband to wash dishes after a full day of working in the fields. Only after a disgruntled Annalee retreated to her and Cal’s bedroom to care for her daughter did Mary sit next to Etta and pull the letter from her pocket.
She kept her voice low, not wishing to attract the attention of the rest of the family. “Etta, girl, are you up to reading a letter that came today? I think it’s from your young man.”
Exhausted to the point she felt ready to collapse in her bed for the night, Etta reached for the letter. “He’s not my young man, Ma. I only got the one letter he sent just to me. The first was the one he wrote about himself and sent to Mrs. Millard before he even knew about me.”
“The fact he wrote back again after your letter to him is a good sign, Etta. Read it tonight, and maybe again in the morning. Tomorrow, before you join Cal in the field, plan to take some paper and pencil to someplace private and send a reply. I’ll take it to town for you and tell Cal you’ll be a little late getting out in the fields with him.”
Etta was not too fatigued not to understand what her mother was saying. She meant for Etta to get away from Annalee’s meddling and finding fault. Fortunately, Cal was by the fire reading and had not paid any attention to their conversation.
“I will, Ma.”
Etta knew she was tired, but she could hardly believe what she read. This Edd
ie Joe Hampton said he liked how she described herself. He liked that she thought she would be happy living on a ranch. He didn’t mind that she was thin because he was no giant himself, which is why he had learned to get by on his wits more than with his fists, although he could hold his own in a fight if the need arose. Etta knew she needed to read the letter again in the morning when her mind was more rested. This man sounded too good to be true. There were just a few things more she needed to know about him, but she’d focus on them when she wrote her letter.
The following morning after breakfast, Etta folded a paper in her pocket and found a pencil. She waited until Annalee was distracted with the baby, and she grabbed a narrow book to use as a lap desk before she shot out the door to find a place behind the barn. There she sat and reread the letter from Eddie Joe.
Once again, the man sounded like he was someone made up for a fairy tale. Maybe he was hiding his flaws from her, and she wouldn’t find out about them until it was too late. After all, when she had married Buford Crabtree, she had known little about him. She hadn’t wished for the marriage, but she had no idea just how miserable she would be with him until after the vows had been spoken. At that point she was at his mercy.
Etta wasn’t one for praying a lot, although she had sent a few pleas heavenward when things got really bad with Buford. No matter how guilty she felt about her thoughts, Buford getting himself killed had been an answer to her prayers. No matter how hard the work was here on the farm, and how tired she felt each night, it was better than her life had been the previous three years.