Also by Ginny Sterling
Excerpt from Beloved Texas Bride, by Ginny Sterling
Available now through Kindle Unlimited and Amazon.com
Elizabeth Pierce watched as the glistening stagecoach rolled into town on the dusty road. A massive crowd of people surrounded her as she scanned nervously over her shoulder. She did not want to be found or recognized. Her salvation lay ahead of her just on the other side of the throng of people and the six massive Quarter Horses that were tethered to the transport.
The coach was brilliant red lacquer complete with bold, gold letters emblazoned along the sides. The dust that flew up around the horses did nothing to dim the glossy panels in the bright sunshine. Cases, carpetbags and knapsacks were recklessly tied down with straps and ropes along the top and the sides. Astride those packages were several people determined not to miss the coach and covered in dust, as well, from their travels.
It surprised Elizabeth to see people perched atop the coach each time she saw it because she could not imagine climbing up with her tight bodice. Crinolines were out now, thank goodness, but the cinched waist was still the fashion. She held her ticket tightly as the occupants of the coach disembarked and the bags were unloaded.
Elizabeth watched curiously as most of the gathering followed the postmaster from the coach, clamoring along behind him, each hoping for a letter from a loved one. Several men helped him carry the few boxes, while a sheriff accompanied a large man in a suit across the street to the bank depository.
Hmm, there must have been money on that coach, she thought. Payroll was often carried in massive lockboxes and accompanied by armed men. Coaches carrying such things were often prime targets since taking a train over was much, much more complicated. Swallowing hard, Elizabeth said a little prayer, hoping her conveyance to Fort Worth would carry no such thing and that she would be safely ensconced inside the carriage, not atop it. Preferably a window seat, too, she thought wryly, if beggars could be choosers.
The ride from Indianapolis to St. Louis had proven to be a challenge due to overcrowding and a bout of illness. The stench of body odor was overwhelming inside the small cab and the swaying motion turned her stomach several times along the trip, much to the other occupants’ chagrin. Elizabeth felt green just thinking about it and repeated her prayer again, crossing herself for good measure.
Elizabeth jumped as she heard the coachman bark “tickets” several times. She surged forward in an unladylike fashion, waving her billet and racing towards the steps that were attached precariously beside the open door of the stagecoach. “I’m here! May I have a window seat?” she inquired politely.
The burly man grabbed her ticket, punched it, and began to turn away from her. He stopped, took a second look over her form boldly and replied, “You can have whatever seat you can get your rump in first.” He grunted rudely and took her bag, tossing it high onto the coach to the other driver that had accompanied him into town.
Needing no invitation, she darted into the small opening as much as her gathered skirt would allow. Elizabeth gingerly sat on the coach cushion and tugged gently at her corset before anyone else embarked, hoping to give her a bit more breathing room for the trip. Feeling bold, she unbuttoned the top button of her blouse just under her chin in order to make herself a bit more comfortable, if that was even possible with the whalebone digging in her sides.
She noticed no one else had joined her as of yet in the coach, but that was not uncommon at all. Depending on the destination, that would affect the number of riders. Indianapolis to St. Louis had been very crowded. Most times, a coach would be present for up to an hour depending on how much baggage was on it and how many tickets were sold. She was just happy it was April and the weather was still comfortable outside.
Peering out the window, she saw a woman and child chatting with the driver. Elizabeth was glad to see them head towards her and glad to have some company inside the coach. Over-crowded was bad, but unoccupied for days on end with only herself and that wretched driver? That was unwelcomed, as well. Elizabeth heard him holler again, “Saddle up!” as the woman entered the stagecoach after the young girl.
“Well, hello, little one. My name is Elizabeth. What is yours?” she inquired to the shy young girl who looked to be five or six years old. Elizabeth nodded and smiled at the mother warmly. The two looked very similar to each other and she assumed they were family.
Elizabeth watched as the young girl looked at her mother, confused. Her blonde braids dangling on either side of her head. “Have you been on the stage before?” she tried again to make conversation and hoping the pair would open up. The woman seemed to be very approachable, but the child not so much. It would take some time for the girl to warm up to her, it seemed.
Trying a different tactic, she addressed the young woman. She seemed to be not much older than Elizabeth was but had led a different life. Where Elizabeth had been cared for and grew up in a modest household, this woman had not. Her knuckles were reddened from hard labor and she had rings under her eyes. Her smile made up for the fatigue etched on her visage.
“Hello, I am May… May Rowlett and this is Abigail. My daughter. She is just a bit shy. You will have to excuse her manners. Abigail? Can you say hello to Miss Elizabeth…?” and her voice trailed off expectantly with a large smile on her face.
Elizabeth noticed her mistake right away. “My apologies! I completely forgot myself. Elizabeth Pierce of Indianapolis. This is my second stage this trip,” she explained, immediately trying to form some sort of bond with the young woman so she might have conversation through the days ahead.
The coach took that moment to lunge forward, moving them off their cushioned seats almost to the floorboard. Thankfully, they were able to catch themselves in time- and this included little Abigail, who had been held in place by her mother’s quick arm. At the launching movement of the horses, May had swung her arm protectively over the little girl with quite a bit of experience.
“You’ve done that before, haven’t you?” Elizabeth asked appreciatively with a raised eyebrow. May’s small frame hid quite a bit of strength, apparently. She was able to hold herself and her daughter in place on the bench against the inertia.
May nodded with a warm smile. “My husband’s horse took off like that, too, with our wagon. She was a strong mare,” she explained. “We are heading down to meet him. He has the wagon, mare, and our items. I have been staying with my mother for the time being until our homestead was ready. John said in his last post that the cabin was almost completed. We are moving to our first real home together,” she gushed excitedly to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled happily for the young woman and clasped her hands in joy. “That’s truly wonderful. I am so happy for you,” she said quietly. I am running from my home, she thought sadly.
She could not believe that her parents had surprised her with an arranged marriage. Her father had a long-time friend, whose son apparently needed a bride now that he had completed medical school and was looking to relocate to Chicago to establish his practice. His name was Elias Barney and sounded perfectly dreadful. Elizabeth Barney? No thank you, she thought.
Her mother had told her that he was “responsible” and held the “utmost in decorum”. If her mother and father approved, Elizabeth most certainly did not. She wanted to see things, to travel, to find adventure and romance. Marrying a “responsible” doctor who she knew nothing about seemed to be more for her sister, not for her.
When her parents broke the news to her, she smiled and nodded carefully to keep from screaming in protest. After the hugs and “dutiful daughter” comments had passed, she asked to be excused to prepare a letter to her fiancé’s family... To which they heartily approved!
Instead, Elizabeth headed out the back door and ran down the street, unsure where to go or where to turn. She stopped and picked up a small, folded paper on a bench and spotted an eye-catching advertisement. Grasping at straws, her mind raced with any thought for escape. She stared a
t the article screaming at her repeatedly.
According to the paper, the state of Texas was in dire need of help in all its realms. Texans were on the search, high and low, for mail order brides (nope!), cooks (nope!), “Cattle-Kates” (what is that?), and a variety of other positions for hire in the nanny shop.
How wonderful! A nanny shop for you to select the perfect nanny for your child! Elizabeth figured she could be a nanny since she was the second of four girls. She had experience taking care of her younger sisters and it would be a way to strike out on her own! She immediately tucked the paper into her small reticule and headed back home to study it more. Texas! No one would ever think to search for her there! She would be free from her family and the pressures of an unwanted marriage.
She returned home and began to make her plans, silently knowing her freedom was just ahead of her. She spent the next few days accommodating various visitors and shopping with her mother. She used the time to pawn off a few baubles in order to pay for her travels in cash. She wanted no way of being tracked. She also narrowed down the items she would take with her: things that were serviceable to wear, a small box for mending, a few more baubles that could easily be tucked on her person and a small sketchbook that was purchased specifically for the trip. Her other sketchbook was full with memories from the past. She was looking to start anew and fresh…
About the Author
Ginny Sterling is a Texas transplant living in Kentucky. She spends her free time (Ha!) writing, quilting, and spending time with her husband and two children. Ginny can be reached on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or via email at [email protected]
For more information
@ginny_sterling
Ginny Sterling
www.GinnySterling.com
[email protected]
Romancing the Fangirl, Copyright © 2017 by Ginny Sterling
These books are works of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of these books may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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