Tattered Hearts: Mail Order Brides of Spring Water Book One

by Ball, Kathleen

  The sky grew dark. Rain clouds rolled in quickly, and the drop in temperature made Georgie shiver. She quickly put on her coat and buttoned it up and then looked for a place to hole up. All she saw were trees or prairie. The trees would have to do.

  As fast as she could, she unloaded Yours and then led the horse to a grassy area and picketed her. Turning in a circle she tried to determine where would be the best place to wait out the rain. She decided on a grouping of trees that grew close together creating a canopy of leaves. She ate the bread and cheese she’d brought and unrolled her bedroll. Too bad she hadn’t thought to pack a rain slicker.

  It started to drizzle, and Georgie went to Yours, took her reins and led her under the canopy, making it just in time. Minutes later a deluge of rain fell, and she wasn’t as proud of herself as she sat drenched on a saturated bedroll. What she had in the saddle bags was probably fine but she didn’t hold any hope that the carpetbag kept the water out.

  Georgie took a deep breath and released it, seeking calm. It was just uncomfortable, and the rain would stop at any minute, she mused. Texas rain was like no other. The sheer amount that came down made her jaw drop. The next thing she knew she was sitting in a puddle. It was raining faster than the earth could absorb it. She stood up and put the bedroll over a branch to allow the rain to wash the mud out of it.

  It got colder the later it got. Soon it would be night, and she’d have no fire. Good thing she had a rifle and pistol with her. She might need them tonight if animals decided to make a meal of her or Yours. Still, she didn’t regret leaving. There was no way she was going to allow Parker to tuck her away somewhere so he could forget her.

  She’d thought he was everything a hero was made of, but he was a hero who didn’t love her. Her bitterness wouldn’t leave, but maybe it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t love her. He’d never wanted a wife, and if he had his choice, certainly he would have never picked her. The easiest thing would be to say she was a widow, but she wasn’t sure if she could live that lie. It would depend on her options.

  Her body shook as she became chilled. It had been a long night staying awake. She expected to see wolves, but perhaps they knew where to hole up and stay dry. At least the rain had stopped, and the sun was on the horizon. She quickly ate some bread and loaded up to continue her journey.

  Miserable would be the right word. Yes, she was miserably wet and she didn’t feel as though she was getting any dryer as they rode in the sunshine. Again, she was able to find a stream. She dared to open her carpet bag and found, though things were damp, they weren’t as soaked as what she was wearing. Stopping early to lay her things out to dry would be a wise move.

  Parker was probably livid when he had found her gone. She hadn’t thought about how worried Sondra and Walter would be either. It couldn’t have been helped, though.

  She gazed into the distance. Tomorrow she’d turn west.

  * * *

  Parker threw his hat on the ground. How could she have left? How? Where was she going? Stubborn woman who didn’t know what was for her own good! Had she even survived the storm last night?

  To top it off, a few soldiers had been at the house yesterday looking for Private Andrews. Walter had answered their questions, but they’d promised to come back when the land owner returned. Walter told him they weren’t happy. Here he was sitting on the porch with his rifle across his lap while he drank coffee. Georgie really made the best coffee he’d ever had, but he never told her. Why had he not said anything?

  He’d known she would balk at being sent away, but he never thought she would leave on her own. It was a gutsy, yet incredibly stupid move. Didn’t she know of the dangers? Depending on which direction she went, she was bound to be captured by either the Apache or the Comanche.

  He had sent two of his soldiers, Sandler and Willis, after her, but that had been hours ago. He looked up at the sky. Oh, God he’d be so grateful if she came back unharmed.

  Motion caught his eye. His little talk with God was being interrupted by the sight of the Union Army bearing down on him. Maxwell, Green, and his foreman Cabot were in the house with rifles ready.

  Parker was relieved to see Major Cooke leading his troops. He was at least a fair enough man compared to Sergeant Hollander. Parker remained seated as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Good Day, Eastman,” Major Cooke said, reining in his horse a little too close to the porch. “We are looking for Private Andrews, and we have reason to believe he was here.”

  “Why would he come here? Was there a message you wanted to get to me? I don’t usually see you unless you need some cattle or you’ve come to claim the taxes.” He shot Cooke a pointed stare. “By the way, I still haven’t been paid for the cattle I sold you. I’m in no position to give them away.” He picked up his cup and calmly drank from it. The calmer he remained, the more riled they would become. This wasn’t his first go round with these men.

  “If I see him I’ll tell him to get back to town before he’s considered a deserter. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “We’d like to search the premises and talk to your wife.”

  Parker stood up and spread his legs shoulder width. “Now what business do you think you have with my wife?”

  Major Cooke had the good grace to turn red. “He saw your wife in town and had taken a fancy to her. He said he was coming here.”

  Parker made certain to keep his rifle pointed down as he took a step forward. “To do what?”

  “I’m sure I’m not privy to the sergeant’s thoughts.”

  Parker eyed Sergeant Hollander. “I bet you know why he came.”

  “Just tell us where he is, you mangy cur rebel,” the sergeant spit out.

  Parker gave him a blank stare. It made the sergeant look bad.

  The major cleared his throat. “May I please speak to your wife?”

  “I told your men yesterday she left. Ranch life wasn’t for her. She’s a Southern Belle from Tennessee. She wanted to go home.” He didn’t miss a beat; he’d been lying to Yankees for years now.

  The major narrowed his eyes. “Just how was she to get there?”

  “Three of my most trusted men are escorting her. I believe they were going to go east then north.” He sat back down as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “He’s lying!” the sergeant shouted.

  “Sergeant get a hold of yourself! Now Mr. Eastman, we both know the Comanche are in a great number in the east.” The major looked impatient.

  “One of the men is a Comanche. They’ll have safe passage.”

  The major smirked. “This is not a slave state anymore. I could take you in.”

  Parker cocked his left brow. “I doubt anyone would be able to keep a Comanche as a slave. All my men would have been killed the first day. He likes being a cowboy, and he has a way with horses. Don’t worry he was raised in a good Christian household. They found him when he was a baby left in the woods. So you see he is not a slave.” He shrugged. “Look around if you want but make it quick I have cattle to tend to. My mother is in a locked room. She has become a bit of a danger. She’s not in her right mind, so please leave her door shut.” He heard the back door close. The extra people in the house were gone. He stepped aside and gestured for them to go on in.

  Sondra rounded the corner of the house. She put her hand to her throat. “Mr. Eastman what is going on?”

  “Sondra come sit with me. The soldiers want to search the house.” Parker had to keep his lips from twitching.

  “We don’t have bootleg whiskey if that’s what you’re looking for,” she snidely told the major before she sat down next to Parker. He took her hand, and she gazed at him with adoration.

  The major stared at the two of them and shook his head. “No wonder she left,” he murmured.

  “Did you say something, Major?” Parker asked, faking a look of concern.

  “Sergeant Ricks and Corporal Buyers you’re with me.” The two men hurried to join the
major inside.

  “You know this will be all over town faster than a wild fire,” Sondra said.

  “I know and thank you. It’s just as well she’s not here. I might have taken matters into my own hands if they’d interrogated her. But I’m worried about her. She could be dead by now.”

  Sondra patted his shoulder. “I have a good feeling she’ll be back. Why, she loves you. I don’t think she even knows she does, but it’s right there for the rest of us to see by the way she looks at you.”

  His jaw almost dropped. “That can’t be right. I let her down. And the beatings she received from Taggart and my mother buried the love she might have felt for me. She doesn’t like for me to touch her most of the time. I really don’t know what to do. I loved the woman she was before all this happened.”

  She tilted her head. “You don’t love her now? I thought marriage was for better or worse.”

  “She left me. It’s as if she yanked my heart out.” He grimaced. “I think we should talk about this after our company has gone.”

  Sondra began to nod when they heard screeching.

  “I told them not to open her door!” Parker jumped to his feet and started for the door.

  “Hold it right there, Reb. No one goes in,” Sergeant Hollander commanded as he cocked his pistol.

  Parker stopped, turned, and scowled at the other man. Then a shot was fired, and Parker felt as though his heart had jumped into his throat.

  “I don’t care if you shoot me. That’s my mother in there!” Parker ran inside.

  Corporal Byers came down the steps carrying Millicent.

  For a moment, Parker thought maybe she was still alive, but there was so much blood.

  “I-I’m…s-sorry,” said the young corporal.

  “Give her to me!” Parker took his mother into his arms and buried his face in her hair. How could she be dead? His body trembled, and when he lifted his head, he glared at Major Cooke.

  “Out! Get out of my house this instant, and I want whoever shot her in jail. I told you not to open that door. It was locked! You murdered my mother while looking for your deserter. Get off my land and may you rot in hell, all of you.”

  “I apologize—”

  He narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Major, I said get out!”

  The Union Soldiers hurried outside. Moments later, the sound of departing hoof beats came from outside.

  Parker knocked a few cups off the dining table and laid his mother upon it. He stared at her with tears in his eyes, and his throat felt as though it was going to close up.

  “Parker?” Sondra called. She walked into the dining room and screamed.

  Walter, Maxwell, and Cabot all raced inside, and as soon as they saw the body, they removed their hats and bowed their heads.

  “You want us to go after those Yankees, Captain?” Sandler asked.

  “No, we’ll get our revenge one day. For now, I want all men to be on their guard. I don’t trust those yellowbellied cowards. I told them not to open her door.”

  “I’ll let the rest know, Captain,” Sandler saluted him before he left.

  Sondra had gone upstairs and returned with a bedsheet that she placed over his mother. He thought he might be sick. He’d lost his whole family to the Union Army. He had no illusions the soldier who murdered would be punished. Watching Walter comfort Sondra, he felt bereft. How he wished Georgie was there.

  He should have kept her by his side and gently wooed her like he’d planned.

  * * *

  Georgie squinted up at the sun. Had she gone too far north before turning west? Where was the Southwest Trail? It was heavily wooded where she’d pulled up, and she didn’t remember so many trees before. She wiped the perspiration off her brow with her sleeve. Her handkerchief was filthy already. She was lost. How could that have happened?

  She released a heavy sigh and allowed her shoulders to slump. She had the map, but without precise landmarks it had been hard to judge where to turn. She must have missed it. She leaned back against a tree and drank some water when she heard a twig snap. Someone was out there.

  As quietly as she could she moved Yours behind a thicket and watched. She put the water away and held onto her rifle. A man wandered into sight. His clothing was more tattered than her worst had been, and it looked like he had never in his life trimmed his beard. She put her hand over her mouth. He bent to look at something, then, muttering, stood again, dropping the dull gray metal trap he had just inspected.

  She stroked Yours to keep her quiet. Now she’d have to be on the lookout for traps. The burly man didn’t look friendly, and she wished he’d move along. It had been stupid to run away, but it was a fine time to realize it now. Would she be able to find her way home? Probably not. She’d end up traveling all of the big state of Texas and never catch another glimpse of Parker.

  The trapper looked around as though he knew he was being watched. His beady eye narrowed as he sniffed the air. He walked deeper into the forest, but she didn’t move for a very long time. Her gut feeling was that he was lying in wait. Her patience saved her. He finally stood and glanced around again. This time he just shrugged and walked away.

  Her heart pounded so hard. She led Yours out of that particular stand of woods but kept a wary eye out. She’d go south in case she had missed the turn off. Exhaustion filled her from her lack of sleep as she found a well-worn path and turned south. She climbed into the saddle and off they went. Her gaze darted from left to right to left again. There were too many creatures in these woods, including the trapper.

  Her heart had been shattered by Parker and it might not ever be whole again. If she couldn’t find the Southwest Trail, she was out of luck. Why she had thought it would be easy she hadn’t a clue. But at least she still had enough food and there had been plenty of creeks. Yours was a good traveling companion. She’d been well trained.

  What was Parker doing right now? He was her only family, well there was also his mother, though Georgie preferred not to think of her as family. It was too late now; he wouldn’t want her back. He didn’t respect her and that tore her in half. They’d had such a beautiful budding love, or so she’d thought, but any hope for their marriage had been destroyed. Somewhere along the trail, she’d determined that she could pretend to be a widow because she’d never want any other man but Parker.

  If she could have been more normal, maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to send her away. She hadn’t killed the soldier, his mother had, but he hadn’t mentioned sending her away. Was he just using it as an excuse to be rid of her? It was done now, of course. She’d taken the decision out of his hands by leaving, so the why didn’t really matter, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  She didn’t even know what love was anymore. She thought for a time that he did love her but it was all pretend. Her belief that she loved him might have been wrong too but her heart was shattered. If only Mama was still alive, she’d be able to sort things out so Georgie would understand her jumbled, contradictory feelings. Someday she’d heal from all she’d been through.

  This time she was on the right path. She came to a fork in the road. This must be where she’d gone wrong. She recognized the path she’d traveled and considered her options. One way took her back to Parker and the other to the Southwest Trail. After reining in Yours, she studied each path. The pain in her heart was excruciating as she turned toward the Southwest Trail. She’d have to stop soon and wash her clothes on the bank of a creek. No one would allow her to join their wagon looking as she did. Maybe she could find a place that didn’t talk of war.

  She rode on for a few hours before she found a fast flowing creek. She could wash there. She unsaddled Yours and let her wander between the creek and the grass. The mare never once tried to leave her.

  She took her dirty clothes out of the carpetbag and shook her head. She wouldn’t get them pristine, but they’d be clean. She took the pile of clothes and a bar of soap and then strode to the creek. She sat and took off her shoes and stockin
gs. She’d need to pound the clothes against some rocks to break up the dirt. It was going to be hard work but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before. She found it to be easier to be standing in the water if the water wasn’t too cold.

  She wet the first shift, laid it on a big rock, and scrubbed it with soap. Luckily, no rock pounding was needed. She then rinsed it, wrung the water out of it and threw it onto a patch of grass. She’d lay it out to dry when she was done.

  There weren’t many clothes, but the ones from the rain were covered in mud. There would have been a time she’d have thrown the clothes away but those times were gone. She scrubbed her dress against the rock. She got some of the mud off but there were numerous stains on it. First, she sighed loudly but after the sigh, she just did her best. On a wagon train, people wore clothes that had become stained and frayed along the way.

  Horses’ hooves echoed, and she raced out of the creek then she dove for her rifle and hid behind a tree. A chill ran down her spine. She took a calming breath. She’d either live or die that day, and there was no help for it. Yours’ ears twitched, and she returned a nicker from another horse.

  Peeking from behind the tree, Georgie almost cried in relief. It was Parker’s men, Sandler and Willis. She stepped out from her hiding place and narrowed her eyes as she stared them down.

  Willis tipped his hat. “Ma’am. Captain Eastman ordered us to find you and bring you home.”

  She set the rifle against the tree within reach. “So what you are really saying is Parker is ordering me home.”

  Willis rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Sandler. “Ma’am, we just have our orders.”

  “Well, you might as well give your horses a rest. I’m washing clothes.”

  Sandler glanced down at her bare feet and his turned a bright red. He dismounted and seemed to be at a loss at what to say. He turned to Willis, who just shrugged.

  She pretended they weren’t there and walked back into the creek. Finally, she felt bad for them. They looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I planned to stop here for the night. My clothes still have to dry. Feel free to make camp.”