by Stella Clark
The Scarred Bride
©2019 by Stella Clark
All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
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Chapter 1
The outskirts of Boston offered little in the way of potential job options for a young eighteen-year-old woman. Kate Grady had already suspected this for some time, but after her third month of not being able to find employment, she was beginning to wonder if it was truly impossible.
With a sigh, she grudgingly returned to her family’s home. As she tugged off her jacket, she could hear the sound of her younger sister, Tessie, singing as she worked in the kitchen. The smell of black beans drifted through the hallway.
She hated black beans.
Kate rubbed her hands for warmth as she followed the smell. “Hello, Tessie,” she offered. “What more needs to be done for supper?”
The redheaded girl glanced at her with a smile. “Don’t you worry, I have this handled. Why don’t you take a seat? You look tired.”
“It’s all right. I want to help.” Kate rolled up her sleeves. “Really. What can I do? Prepare the table?”
Footsteps hurried down the hall. “No!” Their littlest sister, six-year-old Rebecca, hurried out with her doll. “That’s me. I have the table! Tessie said so.”
Tessie shrugged when Kate glanced at her. “I’m afraid so.” Awkwardness settled in between them.
“Oh. Well … I’ll find some flowers then,” she tried a moment later. “To make it look nice.”
When no one stopped her, Kate went back outside. It was a foolish comment to make since they didn’t have flowers. But she didn’t know what else to do.
With seven kids, the Grady family was full. They only had three bedrooms and with the growing children, Kate slept on a makeshift lump in the corner of the girls’ room. She was an adult with no bed and no job to help the family feed itself.
Her stomach growled as she walked. She was supposed to have taken bread with her during her job search, but she’d given the last of it to Trevor. He was a growing boy and always hungry.
And it was her fault. She wasn’t contributing to the family.
Both of her parents worked in the nearby factories. That left Tessie now in charge of the house as Kate was supposed to bring in money to help them. Trevor helped at the barbershop six days a week and the twins, Mark and Luke, sold newspapers before school. Even Jane, only ten years old, read to Mrs. Crocker for a few pennies each week.
It was embarrassing not being able to work and support her family. She wanted to help out and do what she could, but no one would hire her. They wouldn’t even give her a chance. Though she had considered asking that she take care of the house and Tessie search for work, that would mean she had failed.
Then she’d never get a job or leave.
Kate kicked a rock in frustration. She was tired of being a burden to her family. Tugging her hair over her shoulders, she walked along the river as she thought about her options. Perhaps she had forgotten some shop or a family friend who might know of some work she could do to support her family.
After all, if she couldn’t support her family, then she could never support herself. Most of her friends were already married or were close to it. And yet she’d never had a suitor.
One glance at the river’s reflection was a harsh reminder.
When she was four years old, she had tripped with a candle in her arms. The result was a scar across her cheek, an ugly thing on her face that people either stared at for too long or couldn’t bear to look at her at all.
No one would call her beautiful. No one had ever wanted her. The idea of marriage had always been a lovely and fanciful dream. But as much as she wanted it, Kate had told herself not to be foolish. No man would ever love her. Not with that terrible scar.
Her eyes drifted down the river and she paused. Yards ahead was a young couple around her age walking along the edge and holding hands. They looked close. And very, very happy. The smiles on their faces made Kate’s heart ache.
She wanted that. Someone who wanted her, who loved her.
But even a loveless marriage was unlikely. Kate shook her head and left the river in frustration. Her feet led her down the street, past a few shops as she tried to keep her thoughts from wandering.
Yet marriage was back on her mind. A loveless marriage. They weren’t a rare thing. The world needed to keep moving along, after all.
There were scores of unattached women in Boston. Kate wrinkled her nose. Even the unattached women would be seen as a better choice for men over her damaged features.
Her steps slowed down as she came upon the general store. It had grown to twice its size in the last ten years. Now they even had goods displayed outside of the shop. She looked over the children’s toys, knowing how much little Rebecca would enjoy all of them.
Then there were magazines and newspapers.
Picking one up, Kate felt hopeful that the day’s paper would distract her from her aching heart and pitiful thoughts. But as she found herself looking at the advertisements, something else came to mind.
The lightest ray of hope was born as she looked a little further and found the Matrimonial Times. She had heard of it before, Kate thought, though she couldn’t remember where. Her heart skipped a beat as she started to read the advertisements.
A man writing to marry a strange woman meant he had few options. If women were scarce, then he would be less choosy. Kate thought about that carefully. Even if it was a marriage of convenience, at least she would have someone.
And she could be useful. Somehow, someway.
Hope continued to grow in Kate’s heart as one notice stood out to her. There was a man, aged thirty, who owned a ranch in Oregon. He needed a wife to tend the house and cook for his ranch hands. A dozen men.
Licking her lips, she tried to imagine such a life. She wasn’t even certain she knew where Oregon was, but a ranch sounded lovely. There were stories about how big and beautiful those were. And wild, too, but Boston was wild in its own way.
Kate bit her lip. If she proved herself useful, maybe he wouldn’t care about her scar. Maybe he would take her as she was.
She took the advertisement home and tucked herself away in the back corner of the house during supper. She didn’t want to have to tell her parents that once again she hadn’t been able to find work. Her stomach growled several times, but she told herself she would eat in the morning.
There was a letter that needed to be written. As she started it, Kate wanted to be honest and true as much as possible. But she couldn’t bring herself to describe her features. Only that she was fairly tall with blue eyes.
It was sent out the next morning. Her heart wouldn’t stop its crazy beating for the rest of the week as she tried to comprehend what she had just done. As she continued looking for work, Kate wondered what sort of fool she was.
A hopeful one, she decided.
Chapter 2
It was a beautif
ul day. There were blue skies with round white clouds. Though cold, the grass was green and there were trees that went on for days. The valley outside his house was a sight he would never grow tired of seeing.
But Cooper Potter couldn’t help but groan as he watched Mrs. Botterson and her niece head down the lane and then out of view.
That was his fifth housekeeper this year. At least it was winter, he tried to console himself, and that meant new possibilities in the new year. That’s what he told himself. Shaking his head, he glanced around to try and consider his options.
He didn’t need to worry too much about his own house. It was a good-sized house and used for little else but his sleeping quarters. Just beside his barn was the bunkhouse with the attached mess hall for his ranch hands. That was what he worried about. A dozen men in that enclosed space meant plenty of room for a mess every day.
Now he didn’t have anyone to clean up after them or cook. He scratched his neck and tried to think. Mrs. Botterson had been his last hope in Multnomah County. Everyone else had their own property and homes to tend to, no longer interested in working for others. Or they did work for others and didn’t want to work for him.
“You scared off another one, huh?” Richie asked once Cooper made his way down to the mess hall to wake his men for their shift. The man pulled on his boots and shot him a look. “What did you say this time?”
Cooper shot him a look. “I didn’t. She decided this was no place for an old woman and a child. Her words,” he added after a second.
Another man, Rafe, laughed loudly. “You’re the boss, boss. Just tell them what they can and can’t do. You have to take charge with the ladies.”
“Especially if you ever want to get married,” Wagby added with a wink.
Cooper frowned and pointed at him. “Go make everyone porridge. Then it’s time to head out. Richie, the fire. I’m going to check on the others from the night shift.”
He swept out the door before anyone could complain or protest. Not that they would, of course. His ranch ran smoothly because he was willing to put in the hard work alongside his men. They obeyed his orders, though he tried to make sure they could all operate without his help.
Most of them were decent men. And they could all handle themselves in the saddle around his longhorns, which mattered the most. Running a ranch was hard work and he couldn’t do it alone.
Help was necessary. But it was hard to find hired help and it was getting even harder lately. Climbing onto his horse, Cooper got to thinking as he rode out onto the range.
A wife. Wagby wasn’t one of his favorite hired hands by any means. But Cooper wondered if the man had a point.
The ranch was everything he wanted. He didn’t like people just wandering around like he felt women were wont to do. Love wasn’t real and women usually wanted more than what could be given. At least, that’s what he’d heard.
Love. Love only lived in the stories. If love really existed, it would have saved his mother.
He still remembered the sound of her head hitting the stone hearth when his father had pushed her. Cooper still wasn’t sure what had driven the man to drink so much, if it was his work or his family or something else. But it didn’t matter. It hadn’t stopped the man from pushing the woman he had married, and it hadn’t stopped him from blaming the dead woman for leaving the brat behind to raise alone.
A sour taste settled in his mouth.
Love. A terrible idea. There was no such thing. Even if he knew he could treat someone better than his father had, Cooper didn’t know how he would treat a woman he was supposed to call his own.
Whistles rang out, drawing his attention elsewhere.
“There’s the boss!”
“Look who finally woke up!”
“Bring us any goods, boss?”
He raised a hand in greeting to his rowdy cowboys. Even after the hard work, his men always had more than enough energy to cause a little chaos. He liked the energy and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
After catching up, Cooper joined them on their way back to the mess hall as the others made their way out to the longhorns. There was always work to do on a ranch, after all. He fixed the shoes for a horse back at his barn and prepared a few orders to take into town.
It was as he was carrying the last of the oats to his wagon that a magazine caught his eye. The advertisements in the Matrimonial Times, to be exact. He meant to set the oats down and head out, but something convinced him to turn back inside for just a moment.
Curiosity got the better of him as he picked up the paper and glanced through it. A strange notion, to be sure. Strangers agreeing to marriage with one another? That was asking for disaster.
But then words caught his eye: marriage of convenience.
Cooper wasn’t sure what happened after that. But he managed to send out an advert of his own and soon he was picking up mail from the postmaster that included more than letters about his cattle.
There were three women who reached out to him. Not certain of what else to do, he responded to all of them. Only two responded. After his next round of letters, only one was still reaching out to him.
A couple of months passed before he knew what had gotten hold of him. Sending out the final letter, Cooper wondered what had caused him to offer marriage to a woman all the way back in Boston.
She wouldn’t come, he told himself. It was practically the other side of the world. The woman wouldn’t come, and he would have to keep looking for another housekeeper and cook.
A tingle ran down his spine as the letter was sent off. He had to wonder what would happen if she really did come. There was an uncomfortable sensation settling in his stomach.
Cooper had sworn he would never get married. And now he had just sent off a proposal.
With a shake of his head, he returned home and prayed that the Lord knew what He was doing.
Chapter 3
Her stomach churned as a wagon wheel rolled uneasily over yet another rock. She hadn’t expected anything so bumpy. Carriages weren’t known for rolling along the ground smoothly, but she certainly didn’t think this could be normal.
Trepidation flooded over her as they went over another rock. She grabbed onto the seat, hands clenching the curtain as though it could help her be still. But it did little to help.
Oregon was a place that existed in only stories. Yet somehow, she found herself traveling and leaving the life she had always known to go to Multnomah County. Her stomach clenched as she forced herself to let go and pretend she was comfortable in the stagecoach.
Kate kept her eyes down. Keeping her hair curled and the bonnet on helped hide the disfigurement on her face, but it wasn’t a perfect cover. It wasn’t something she could hide for long. She could feel the eyes trailing back to her once in a while for the other riders to satisfy their curiosity.
Across from her sat an older couple in their fifties with their young son who was antsier than herself.
The seat beside her was empty except for another young lady who had buried her hands in her dress and kept looking outside the window beside her.
“Where are you headed?” The boy spoke up when Kate glanced his way. “We’re off to Oregon City.”
She hesitated, wondering if he was going to lead into saying something about her face. Most folks did. A basic greeting, and then they’d dive right in to ask her all about what had happened. Though she had grown used to it, she didn’t like putting up with those conversations.
Swallowing, Kate struggled to smile. “I’m off to Oregon as well.”
“That’s far,” the other woman piped up. She had bouncy blonde hair as she glanced around at everyone. Kate believed the girl to be around her same age, and she looked as nervous as she felt on the inside. “I’m only going to Wyoming.”
The boy whistled. “That’s where I wanted to go. It’s where all the buffalo are. Father said I can be a cowboy, but I can’t if there aren’t any buffalo in Oregon City.”
“Well,”
Kate tried, “you’ll never know until you get there.”
There had to be something out there. She thought back to the letters that her husband-to-be had sent her. He owned a ranch, after all. She wasn’t certain if that meant he only had cows or if he had buffalo as well. She wasn’t certain she knew the difference.
Cooper Potter. That was his name. For the last couple of weeks, she had run it through her head time and time again. Cooper Potter on the Circle Seven Ranch. He said it was right outside of Oregon City in Multnomah County. Then he said he would pick her up when the stagecoach reached the end of the line.
She hoped so. But her heartstrings tightened as she attempted to imagine meeting him. Though no one in the stagecoach had said anything about her face, it was one experience to spend a few days with her and another to commit to a life with her and the scar.
He could always turn her away. Kate’s stomach churned again. That wouldn’t fare well for her. What would she do if he refused her?
For so long, she had seen the looks of horror and disgust and dismay when people saw her for the first time. She could see it in their eyes.
Every part of her brain told her that she should have told Mr. Potter about her face. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that, too ashamed. At the time, it had felt like the right thing to do. But now, she had to deal with the fear of how he would react when he saw her for the first time.
“Rita.” The other girl cleared her throat. “I’m Rita Mayhorn. I’m from just outside Boston. Headed to … well, what’s your name?”
“Kate Grady,” Kate answered and then noticed how the girl was wringing her hands. When she looked up, the girl looked petrified. She hoped it wasn’t because of her face. “Are you all right?”
The girl tried to smile. “Who, me? Oh, I’ll be fine. I think. Only I might be in over my head. You see, I’m off to get married. But it’s to a stranger, and now I think I might have made a mistake.”