by Montana West
Most kindly,
Elizabeth.
William smiled. This might just work out. The woman did not seem interested in intimacy. Five years? Which man and woman can live together and not have children within five years, unless one of them was barren? In his case he was not, and he wondered whether Elizabeth was barren and was probably just using that as an excuse.
The other two women had responded and he immediately realized that they thought he was a rich land owner, with a large sprawling mansion where they would entertain widely. In their own different ways each of them wanted to know which clothes would be suitable for them as the ladies of the house, and if he could finance their trousseaus as they prepared to come out west.
With a sigh he wrote back his regrets to the two ladies, explaining that his ranch was only one hundred and sixty acres and his house was made of logs and sod, and since he was still in mourning there would not be any entertainment at the homestead for many years to come.
He still had one further test to do before he made up his mind about Elizabeth. He sent her another letter requesting references from her pastor with regards to her virtue.
Dear Mr. William Edwards,
Once again it was a pleasure to read your letter. From the time I was small my parents, and especially Mama, took us to church and when I turned twelve I was baptized by the Reverend Isaiah Banks of the Boston Baptist Church. We have attended the same church all our lives, and Rev. Banks can vouch for my virtue. I have never been married before, nor have I known a man in the Biblical sense of the word, nor do I have the wish to do so in the near future. I realize this may compromise my position as an applicant for the state of marriage with you, but I am being totally honest. For the time being, I believe we will have a lot of work to do on the ranch so as not to leave room for any intimacies. Besides, my desire is to find a home for my sister, Virginia, who has been very sick, and the doctor said that I need to get her out of this cold Boston climate to a warmer place where she can recuperate and once again be healthy.
In view of this, I would like to ask you to agree to a business arrangement where I promise to look after your children and your household, and in return you provide me with a name and a roof over our heads, because two women alone in a strange land would create a lot of problems.
I will be waiting to hear back from you. However, if I do not hear from you within the month, I will take it that my request has not met with your approval and so will look elsewhere.
I am also enclosing a reference from Reverend Isaiah Banks with regard to our standing in the church.
Thank you most kindly.
Elizabeth Lowell.
This last letter decided the matter for him, and when he next wrote he enclosed twenty dollars which he took from his savings for their train and coach transportation, together with detailed information on how they could get to Missoula.
CHAPTER THREE
FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA
SPRING, 1874
Elizabeth stepped onto the platform of the railway station at Fargo and stretched. She put her glasses back in their case, because she did not need them now that she was not reading any more. Her whole body was sore from sitting through seven days of the train journey. She had given up her seat from time to time so that Virginia, who was still recuperating, could stretch out more. Being a tall girl did not help and Virginia had been grumpy most of the way. Elizabeth put it down to the effects of her illness and so did not take offence, not even when her sister was sometimes downright rude to her.
“I never wanted to come on this horrible journey to a forsaken country,” she sniffed at one point. “Why did you have to take me away from all that is dear to me?”
“Virginia, the doctor said you need fresh air and lots of warmth in order for the inflammation to heal. Boston is not the place, and Missoula will be good for you. The fresh mountain air will do you lots of good.”
“You don’t know that,” she cried shrilly. “Why must you always decide things for me, even when I do not want you to? Is it because you are jealous of me? I am prettier, and you know that in Boston I would have soon found a good man to pay me suit. Why, oh why, did you have to take me away?”
Elizabeth chose to ignore her sister’s taunt and instead looked out of the window. However, as they neared Fargo Virginia’s countenance had begun to change into a pleasant one, and Elizabeth hoped the sullen mood had passed, at least for now. This was the last train station, and from here they would use the stagecoach to Missoula, and William would meet them at the Missoula Travelers’ Inn.
In the days leading up to their departure from Boston, she had sought to find out as much information as she could regarding their journey to the Wild West. Having never ventured out of Boston she had been both thrilled and frightened of the unknown, but days spent in prayer gave her the calm she needed.
“Isn’t there a train right up to Missoula?” she had inquired at the station, and the elderly station master had smiled at her indulgently.
“Miss, I know for a fact that if you were to take this journey in another five year, then the train will convey you right up to your destination in Missoula. But alas! For now, the Northern Pacific rail tracks have only been laid as far as Fargo in North Dakota.”
“How long will the journey last? I mean from here up to North Dakota?”
“If God permits it, then you can be sure that in eight days from when you board the train you will be in Fargo. Then you take the stagecoach from there. If you are lucky, it may pass right outside your destination, but if not then you will be put down at Missoula Travelers’ Inn.” Elizabeth had smiled since that is what William had indicated in his letter. He would be waiting for them. At least she prayed that he was a man of integrity and would be waiting for them. Now, as she helped Virginia off the train she looked around to see if she could find a seat. She still had to get their portmanteau which contained all their worldly possessions, as well as her violin.
She spotted a small stone slab and led her sister to it. The girl began grumbling once again.
“Ginnie, I have to get our luggage. You will be alright here.” She hurried back to the train and brought down their luggage and carried it to where she had left Virginia. She straightened herself and looked around. They had reached Fargo in the early morning on a Thursday, or at least she hoped it was Thursday, because she had listened in on a conversation between two elderly men, and had understood that as they travelled further West they were losing time. She had no idea what losing time was and hoped to find someone to explain it all her.
There was the usual railway station hustle and bustle as people met relatives and exchanged excited greetings. She watched in fascination as various activities went on around them. Then she heard the sound she had been listening out for.
“Stagecoach to Fort Benton, Sun River, Fort Shaw, Helena, Missoula. Stagecoach to Fort Benton, Sun River, Fort Shaw, Helena, Missoula. Get your seat now,” the shrill crier’s voice rang out.
“That is our coach, Virginia. Let us go.”
Virginia stood up and began walking ahead, not offering to help her sister with the luggage, and Elizabeth struggled with the portmanteau and violin case and was thankful when she reached the outside of the station. She looked around and spotted Virginia standing beside the coach, observing the horses. There were about three coaches and were each drawn by four large horses.
Elizabeth had never seen a horse up close, and she was fascinated as well as terrified of them. She hoped they were not temperamental creatures and as she handed their luggage over to the driver of their coach she made a silent prayer.
“We have come this far because of Your protection, Lord, but our journey is not yet over. Guide us through this vast land, and help us reach our destination. In Jesus’ name, amen.” She climbed in and sat beside Virginia, who had taken the window seat.
Elizabeth looked around the coach with a lot of interest and smiled at a woman her own age who had two children with her, a litt
le boy and a little girl. The woman smiled back at her. Their coach soon filled and in total there were eight of them, five ladies and three gentlemen, besides the two children. They sat on hard seats, four on each side facing each other. The driver came to the door. Elizabeth offered to hold the little boy and his mother gladly handed the child over.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Wells Fargo Stage Coach. My name is Jack Sprat. Our first stop will be at Glitch. Between Fargo and Fort Benton we will make very short stops, because most of the towns along the way are very small, and staying too long might attract the wrong kind of attention. As all three coaches will be riding together, we shall also make the journey at night. That will ensure triple security for all of us.” He looked at all his passengers. “But there is nothing to worry about. Once we get to Fort Benton you can enjoy the view from there, because our pace will be a little bit more leisurely. Once again, welcome to Wells Fargo Stage Coach and have a good journey.”
True to his word Jack, as well as the other coach drivers, rode the horses hard and between Fargo and Fort Benton they only stopped a few times to change horses. Everything flew past like a blur, and because the seats were very uncomfortable and the ride a bumpy one, the passengers were more concerned with staying on their seats than on viewing the landscape.
When they got to Fort Benton six days later, things changed. Jack took the weary travelers to a courtyard inn which looked very comfortable.
“This is my sister’s place,” he grinned as he helped the tired ladies out of the coach. A plump matronly woman with a bonnet on her head emerged from the building, a huge smile on her face.
“Hello brother, it is good to see you indeed,” she hugged her brother, who turned to introduce his passengers. “Jack, show the gentlemen to their rooms and I will make the ladies comfortable.”
Elizabeth was glad to sleep on a bed that night, even if she had to share it with Virginia, who tossed and turned the whole night.
“We will soon be there,” Elizabeth soothed her murmuring sister. “I am sorry you have to endure all this discomfort, but it will soon be over. Mr. Jack said we are about seven days away from our destination.”
“Why did we have to come at all?”
Elizabeth ignored her sister and pretended to fall asleep. As she lay in the darkness it suddenly came to her that she had to think about their lives ahead. When she had received the letter with the money for transport for both of them from William, her only thought had been to get her sister out of Boston, away from the bad influence of the city and to a place where she could be safe. She had not given herself time to think about the forthcoming marriage.
She had told William that she wanted a marriage in name only, but what if when they got there he wanted a real marriage and children? She shuddered. The thought of a man touching her made her recoil inwardly.
Elizabeth knew she was not a prude, but growing up in Boston and being around the servants and especially after her mother had died, had left a negative picture about the relations between men and women. Perhaps if her mother had been alive she might have given Elizabeth the proper education regarding marriage and marital relations, but whatever she knew she had learned from the servants’ whispers and giggles. And it made her abhor intimacy because the servants made it sound like an evil act.
“Please, Lord, let William not be a man who has those carnal needs,” she prayed silently. “Let him be an honorable man, who needs only a mother for his children and nothing more.”
They left at dawn the next day and this time, because they were in what Jack Sprat called the ‘Gold Country,’ there was a lot of traffic on the road and their journey was more leisurely. Elizabeth saw the tall prairie grass rippling like the waves of the sea in the breeze, and animals and rocks dotted the land, which was green all over since it was early spring. This land was untouched and unsoiled, a wilderness that overwhelmed and made Elizabeth feel very small and vulnerable.
When they rolled into Missoula at last, almost three weeks to the day that they had started their journey west, Elizabeth’s heart began to pound in her chest. This was it. She was really here, actually here to get married. She had no idea what her husband-to-be looked like, but he had mentioned that he was six feet and two inches tall.
Nothing however, prepared her for the first sight of the man she was to be married to. As she stepped out of the coach something told her to look towards her left and she saw a mountain of a man, with dark brown hair, a square jaw and piercing blue eyes. It was the eyes that held her captive. Very beautiful but sad eyes. He blinked and turned away, breaking their eye contact. Elizabeth knew without being told that this was William.
He strode over to the coach and after exchanging pleasantries with Jack, he turned to her. “You must be Elizabeth Anne Lowell. Welcome to Missoula, Montana, ma’am,” he took off his hat. “And this must be your sister, Virginia.” He had a deep and pleasant voice.
He held out his hand and Elizabeth placed hers in it. He had rough hands, the hands of a man who worked hard. William was thinking the same thing about Elizabeth. Her hands were not the soft hands of someone who had been indulged. And they were stained with blue marks, which he correctly presumed to be ink stains. She had mentioned that she was a transcriber. He greeted Virginia, who flashed a smile at him.
“Where is your luggage?” he asked, and Elizabeth indicated the portmanteau which he picked up easily, leaving Elizabeth to carry her violin.
Elizabeth was expecting to see a coach of some sort or an ox wagon, and the sight of the three horses standing side by side and to which William strode made her falter in her steps.
“Anything wrong, ma’am?”
“Are those horses?” she asked, and then cleared her throat. “I mean, are we supposed to ride those horses?” She spoke to him for the first time and he thought she had a very musical voice.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But I, we have never ridden on a horse before,” she said in almost a whisper. She was terrified and it showed in her large eyes. She was afraid that Virginia would burst into tears, but was quite surprised when the young girl walked up to one of the horses and began stroking the animal, which seemed to like what she was doing.
“It is not difficult, ma’am. Besides the horses will get us faster to wherever we are going.”
“What?” Elizabeth’s heart sank. When she had been preparing for their journey she had been fully aware that they were going into the wilderness, but she had hoped that it would be a civilized environment.
William’s heart sank. Surely the woman was not going to bail out on him at this point! He did not want to go through the ordeal of corresponding with any more women. This first time had been hard enough as it was.
“Are you changing your mind, ma’am?” he spoke softly so that only she heard, and she heard the challenging tone in his deep voice.
“No, of course not.” She sighed. “But ...” she shrugged and turned away. “Never mind.” William put the portmanteau down and scratched his chin, which showed signs of a beard.
“Riding a horse is not that difficult, and you will soon get the hang of it.”
Elizabeth had her doubts but she squared her shoulders and prepared herself to face whatever lay ahead.
“Here, I will help you up. You can have Misty. She is a very gently one and has never thrown anyone.”
“Thrown anyone?”
“Horses tend to sense fear, and if you get on a horse and it senses your fears it can easily throw you off. Not with Misty. My daughters learned how to ride on her.”
He looked at her and Virginia and shook his head.
“What now?” Elizabeth demanded.
“You have to ride side-saddle, because you are not properly dressed for riding astride.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your dresses will not allow you to ride while seated astride,” he pointed at a cowboy who was passing by on his horse. His legs were on either side of his horse. “That is what
riding astride means.”
“Oh, I see,” Elizabeth said. She threw a quick glance at Virginia, who was still petting her horse.
“Your sister seems quite at home with animals. Are you sure she has never ridden before?”
“No, sir,” Elizabeth murmured.
“Before you get on Misty you need to make her acquaintance. Horses are like people sometimes. They are temperamental creatures, and if she knows you are a friend you will not have any problems with her.” Elizabeth was standing about five feet away from the horse. William held out his hand. “Come and meet Misty.”
She put down her violin case and reluctantly placed her hand in his, and he tugged at it gently and she followed him. He stood before the horse’s head and pulled her to stand alongside him. Misty was black and had a white stripe from her ears down her muzzle. The other two horses were pure black all over.
“Touch her muzzle,” he said in a soft voice. “Misty likes that.”
“No!” Elizabeth tried to pull her hand away but he held on firm.
“You are a very brave woman, Miss Elizabeth,” he said without looking at her, stroking Misty with his left hand. “You left all your life behind to come into the unknown. A horse is a very small thing to beat you now.”
Elizabeth inwardly agreed with what he was saying. She sighed and allowed him to place her hand on the horse’s muzzle. She was surprised at how soft it felt.
“She is so soft,” she said in wonder, stepping a little bit closer.
Misty breathed onto her hand and she could not hide a giggle, and her dimples showed, lighting up her expressive eyes, and William caught his breath. She was very beautiful and he quickly quashed the thought.
“Hello, Misty,” Elizabeth, a little braver, reached both hands and cupped the horse’s head. “You are a very beautiful one.” The horse made a sound as if she fully agreed with what Elizabeth was saying, and she giggled again.
“Misty is female, so she loves the compliments,” William said. The woman would be alright. He had a more pressing issue. The portmanteau, though not heavy, was nevertheless bulky and he was thinking about how to tie it and the violin onto Black Thunder, his horse. He scratched his chin again and sighed. Women, he thought, and their possessions. He remembered that when they had migrated from Texas to Montana before the Civil War, he and his father only had saddle bags but his mother had to have all her possessions with her. With the use of ropes he managed to secure the luggage and then he turned first to Virginia.