An Unexpected Bride (The Colorado Brides Series Book 2)

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An Unexpected Bride (The Colorado Brides Series Book 2) Page 1

by Carré White




  The Colorado Brides

  Book Two

  An Unexpected Bride

  Carré White

  Copyright © 2013 Carré White

  All Rights Reserved

  Kindle Edition

  http://carrewhite.wordpress.com/

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  Carré White’s Mail List

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  [email protected]

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Chapter One

  Kansas City, Missouri, 1860

  I had read my sister Hannah’s letters, some of them hundreds of times over. She had traveled out west with her husband, Frank, who had been injured in a fall and then died tragically after an illness. She had met a man by the name of Nathan Weaver, and they had married several months later. The things that had happened to her had shocked us all, especially her hasty re-marriage. This was part and parcel of the great adventure her life had become…and I had stars in my eyes, hoping for the same.

  With a little time on my hands, I gazed out the window of the City Hotel in Kansas City, glimpsing gray skies and rain. We had arrived by steamer late last night, but seeing it in the daytime, and having wandered around earlier, taking a stroll down Bluff Road and Independence Avenue, I was anxious to continue on with the journey, as we were on the edge of the great western wilderness.

  I had arrived here with my chaperones, Mary and Abner Chandler, who were homesteading to California. I planned to live in Colorado, staying with my sister, until I found a husband. Hannah said there were plenty of miners looking for brides, as the men vastly outnumbered the women in Denver City.

  I eagerly anticipated being courted by dozens of suitors, who I hoped would stumble over themselves to woo me. My parents were dismayed that I had left them, but, being one of four girls, I knew they were secretly relieved to be free of the burden I represented. Far from a wallflower, I had received a proposal of marriage several months ago, but my feelings towards Cyrus hadn’t been enough of an inducement to accept his hand. I had a bit of a stubborn streak, which would either ensure my success or hinder it. My vision of the ideal male had materialized from the descriptions within my sister’s letters. I wanted someone who was handsome, dashing, and entirely devoted to me, just like Hannah’s new husband was to her.

  “Well, there you are,” said Mrs. Mary Chandler, as she approached, sashaying between the tables in the dining room. “Have you recovered from the sea sickness?”

  “Yes, I’m quite well, thank you.” There was a family of eight children at the hotel, all under the age of twelve, and they had terrorized the travelers, as their parents struggled to control them. “I only want a few moments of peace.”

  She sat across from me, her bonnet streaked with raindrops. “I couldn’t agree more, Paulina. It’s been a trial for everyone.”

  “The agony hasn’t even begun yet.” Multiple trains and steamers had brought us to Missouri, and tomorrow we would travel by wagon.

  “Oh, indeed. Abner’s gone to fetch the supplies.”

  “And then the real adventure begins.” Saying those words out loud produced a rush of anticipation. “Isn’t this diverting, Mary? Just think; we are on the brink. There’s nothing out there but prairie and mountains and—”

  “Indians.” She grimaced.

  “Yes, but they won’t bother us. Our group is too large.”

  Mrs. Chandler was older than my mother. Her husband was a blacksmith by trade, but he had sold his business to become a farmer, seeking to better himself in California. It was said that the wheat was nearly as tall as a man and the soil was so fertile, that crops grew twice as big.

  “We’ll purchase the rest of everything when we arrive in Independence the day after tomorrow.”

  “Have you decided then on oxen or mules?”

  “I think oxen. They’re less costly and handle better.”

  The only luggage I carried, despite a small bag of clothing, was a chest filled with my sister’s dishes. I had promised I would bring them to her intact. It was my wedding gift. “I have some letters that need to go out today. There won’t be any mail until Ft. Kearny.”

  “I only have one to my daughter. Your family is bigger.”

  “I’m so eager to see my sister again. She’s settled quite well in Denver City. She’s going to have a baby.”

  “I know her success is what prompted you to leave.” She smiled kindly. “You’re such a pretty girl. I’m sure you could’ve had any man you wanted in New York.”

  “Oh, stop that.” A twinge of embarrassment registered. “As much as I love home, I’ve a desire to see other things, to do more.”

  “You’ve hardly suffered, my dear.”

  “I know, but I want to see my sister, and then, if I decide to continue on, I will. Or I could return home.”

  “I doubt you’ll go home. Some handsome miner will sweep you off your feet.”

  That idea appealed to me. “I would consider it.”

  “Of course you would. If our daughter, Sarah, hadn’t married already, she’d be here with us. I promised your mother that you would arrive safely.”

  A gray-haired man moved towards us; his blue sack coat was loosely fitted. “My dear, there you are.” He inclined his head towards me. “Paulina.”

  “You’ve found us, Abner.”

  “Indeed, I have. Are you having tea?”

  “Yes, someone’s bringing it,” I said.

  “Good gracious, it’s loud in the lobby.” He took a seat.

  “Those horrid children,” said Mary. “I can only hope they’re not on the wagon train.”

  “I spoke with several miners just now. One of them has been on the trail before.”

  “Did you learn anything new?” I asked.

  “You were worried about the Indians. I’m happy to tell you that they pose only a minor threat. None of the women will be carted off and used for nefarious purposes.” His smile creased the edges of his eyes.

  “Well,” said Mary. “That does put one’s mind at ease.”

  “I’ve heard that as well,” I said. “They might steal a horse or two, but we should be perfectly safe.”

  “Have we decided what animals we’ll be buying?” asked Mary. “Perhaps, we need a horse?”

  “I’ll have to tally the expenses first. If there’s money left over, we might buy a horse.” He pulled out a gold watch that had been hidden in a pocket. “I’ll go soon and see about the wagon. The shop should be open by now.”

  “Oh, finally,” I said. “Here comes our tea.”

  After breakfast, we went our separate ways. I returned to my room, needing to visit the water closet. I
’d have a bath and wash my hair, as this opportunity would not come again for some time. A while later, waiting for my hair to dry, I sat on a window seat, staring out into the courtyard of the hotel, seeing carriages come and go, while ladies and gentlemen held umbrellas. The rain had yet to cease, although it was only a drizzle now.

  My things were mostly packed. I’d taken the opportunity to wash the more delicate items by hand. These, a chemise and a pair of pantalettes, now hung from wooden hangers near the window along with several sets of stockings. By the time I had dressed and arranged my hair in a simple, yet damp, bun, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.”

  “We’re having lunch soon, my dear.” Mary had arrived with several packages under her arms. “I might’ve bought too many things at the city market. I’ll be hard-pressed to find a place for everything. Abner purchased the wagon already, and he’s retrieving our belongings from the dock.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes, you can accompany me to lunch, but I have to bring these to my room first.”

  I got to my feet. “I think I can manage that.”

  The dining room had been deserted earlier, but now it was filled with guests and Indian traders. Army officers were traveling to forts up the Missouri, and rough-looking miners hoped to strike it rich, digging for gold. We drank iced tea and lemonade. I had barbeque chicken with French onion soup, while Mary ordered a ham steak. We wouldn't see Abner again until supper, as he was busy running errands. These were our last few hours of quietude before the journey began. We would be leaving early in the morning, even before the front desk opened.

  By five o’clock sharp, I was dressed and ready, having hardly slept at all, due to the level of excitement that had kept me tossing and turning all night long. The wagon was in the courtyard, the canvas top smelling heavily of linseed oil, which waterproofed the material. There were two oxen yoked together, calmly waiting for our departure. To my surprise, another family had done the same thing, although they were still loading their belongings, and a baby cried, shattering the stillness.

  Mary had brought furniture, a heavy quartered oak china cabinet that had belonged to her mother. She’d been unwilling to part with the item. It took up a good portion of the wagon, along with my metal chest filled with carefully packed dishes. I sat next to Mary and Abner on a short backed wooden bench. We were on our way within minutes, the oxen responding to verbal commands easily, having been trained for such work. I sensed my travel companions were tired, yet, from the looks on their faces, they too were ready for this great adventure.

  We trundled down the street, turning south at the first intersection, seeing two wagons up ahead. I sat until sunrise, the orange ball lifting above the horizon in the distance, and then I stepped down from the seat, walking alongside the wagon for more than an hour. Mary walked with me, while Abner managed the animals. Following the road through a vast stretch of prairie, the elevation changed periodically, as hills and lowlands either forced the animals to work harder or Abner held them back, especially downhill. The horns on the oxen kept the yoke on their heads, even when we had to stop and back up to avoid a deep rut.

  Eager to reach Independence, we kept the rests to a minimum, allowing for quick bathroom pauses, while the animals fed off the grasses by the side of the road. It wasn’t long before we caught up with several wagons ahead of us, as the ones behind also made strides. We were soon in a line of wagons, and, when the afternoon sun was at its height, the assemblage pulled to a stop. Abner had been leading the oxen most of the day, and his back was sore.

  “I’ll take a gander for a bit,” he said. “Stay with the team.”

  “This wasn’t so bad,” said Mary. “It’s slow-going, but it sure is beautiful out here.”

  “There’s a breeze, at least.” I eyed the wagon behind us, as a woman held a fussing baby in her arms. They had been at the hotel this morning.

  She approached, her expression friendly. “Good afternoon,” she said. “My name is Helen Stuart.”

  “Hello. I’m Paulina Hoffman. Your baby’s adorable.”

  Her look revealed exasperation. “Laura’s teething. It’s impossible to sooth her.”

  “I can help you, if you want. I love babies.”

  “That’s so kind of you, my dear. It looks like we’re going in the same direction.”

  “Yes, Independence.”

  “We’re in the nick of time. The cut-off date is tomorrow. I didn’t think we were going to make it.”

  “For the Tucker crew?” asked Mary. “We’re signed on for it.”

  “Hi, I’m Helen Stuart. Yes, that’s the one.”

  “Mary Chandler.” They shook hands.

  “We haven’t gotten the extra axle yet. They won’t leave until midday tomorrow, which is a good thing. It gives us a little more time.”

  “An extra axle?” Mary’s brows furrowed.

  “Oh, it’s a must. If your wagon breaks, you’re finished.”

  “Good heavens. I’ll have to mention this to Abner. Where on earth would we put it?”

  “We’ll need more oxen as well. After we load up, the wagon will be too heavy for just two.”

  “I see.” Mary glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll have to speak with my husband about this. I had a feeling the furniture wasn’t practical.”

  “Maybe you can sell it?”

  “I’m beside myself now. I had hoped to take it with me. It was my mother’s favorite piece.”

  “My husband’s skilled at woodworking. He’ll make us things once we reach Oregon.”

  “You’re not going to California?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Jason’s family is in Oregon. Are you heading for California?”

  “I’m stopping in Denver City.”

  “Oh, you’re lucky. You don’t have to go over the mountains. I’m dreading that the most.”

  “We’re on to California, after we see Paulina safely to Denver City.” Mary glanced over her shoulder. “Where is my husband?”

  The baby fussed, her little mouth opening to cry. “I can hold her, if you want.”

  “Would you?” She looked relieved. “I need to find a private spot for a bit. It’s kind of you to offer.”

  I reached for Laura. “I don’t mind.” The baby was in my arms, and she began to fuss immediately.

  “I’ll hurry before she starts screaming. She’s hungry. I’ll feed her when I return.” Helen wandered into the grasses, heading for the trees.

  “Well, hello you.” Laura cried now, her eyes watering. “Oh, no. You can’t do that.” I bounced her lightly, balancing the little bundle on my hip, while humming a lullaby. When this failed to work, I began to walk, hoping the movement would settle her down. By the time Helen returned, Laura lay over my shoulder like a warm sac of potatoes; her crying had ceased.

  “You did get her to settle.” She reached out her hands. “Here.”

  “She’s fine now.”

  “I need to feed her. Thank you for watching her.”

  “You’re welcome.” I eyed the tree line. “I might have to go out there.”

  “You’d better hurry; we’re leaving soon.”

  I snatched up my skirts, stepping into tall grass. “I’ll be back.” When I returned, Abner and Mary were speaking with another couple, while they stood by their wagon. Others had gathered to chat.

  They spied me. “Here she comes. Let’s get a move on then,” said Abner. “ People scattered suddenly, returning to their wagons.

  The oxen were fed and ready, their jaws working, as they finished what was in their mouths. We traveled for hours; the three of us changing places occasionally, to either sit or walk, depending on how uncomfortable the seat became. The sun began to set after the last stop, and someone called out from the front of the line.

  “Tents! I see tents!”

  It would be another ten minutes before other wagons came into view, dotting the prairie with their bleached tops. There we
re several twelve-ox teams, drawing what looked like heavy provisions.

  “Oh, my goodness,” murmured Mary. “So many.”

  “Indeed.” Abner seemed relieved by the sight, his eyes hidden beneath a hat. “What did I tell you? I knew there’d be plenty of folks lookin’ to make a fresh start.”

  “We won’t be alone. That’s for sure,” I murmured, awed by the spectacle.

  The white spire of a church sat in the middle of a small town, enclosed by a white fence. It being nearly dark, lamplight flickered in the windows of the houses, and there were campfires as well, dozens of them.

  “Let’s find a spot for the night.” Abner grasped the reins. “There’s some room on the end.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  Tired of sitting, I stepped to the ground, as the wagon began to move. We passed through a narrow thoroughfare, the road rutted from a decade or more of use. The homesteaders had been coming out this way since the 1840’s. There were families with children, lone travelers, and miners, who sat by campfires holding tin cups, presumably full of whiskey. As I passed, several men voiced their opinions.

  “There’s a comely lass, Ned. You were sayin’ they were all ugly as mules.”

  “Maybe she’s a California widow.” This was followed by ribald laughter.

  “She looks too young,” said one of the men. “Don’t see a ring.”

  I hid my face beneath the bonnet, grateful for its protection. They had more than likely been drinking all day, having already acquired their provisions for the departure tomorrow. When it seemed I was being followed by one of them, I hurried, walking before the wagon, within reach of safety.

  “Don’t be like that, honey! Come back!”

  I glanced at Mary, who shook her head. “Pay them no mind, my dear. You’ll be perfectly safe with us.”

  Chapter Two

  I slept in my own Wedge Tent, having erected it myself, by assembling the ridge poll down the center with the vertical poles on the sides. Then a canvas had been tossed over the simple frame and secured with stakes. Mary and Abner did the same, and we were side-by-side, near the wagon. The homesteaders had moved their wagons to form a circle; the animals were housed within, to keep them from wandering off. By morning, I was desperate to find a private place to “do my business”, but there were others with the same idea in mind. The miners had erected a latrine tent, with a deep ditch, and I availed myself quickly, although the stench was repugnant.

 

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