Johanna
Dakota Bound
Book 1
by Liza Westbrook and Kirsten Osborne
TinBird Publications
Book design and layout copyright © 2015 by Karen E. Hoover
Cover design copyright © 2015 by Steven Novak
This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2015 Liza Westbrook, and Kirsten Osborne
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
About the Authors
Kirsten Osborne Links
Liza Westbrook Links
Chapter One
Johanna found her voice at long last. "An arranged marriage? Father, you've got to be kidding. It's 1875. We're well beyond that nonsense. Why in the world would you think I'd ever consent to this?" She wasn't certain if she was more shocked or angry, but both were pretty strong emotions just then.
She sat across from her father's massive desk and tried not to explode. Her nostrils were flared, sucking in as much air as she could get, and it still wasn't enough. She felt trapped—suffocating as if she were locked in a small cupboard and forgotten. Actually, at the moment it would be nice to be forgotten. Anything would be nicer than being told she had to marry an old man three times her age at her father's whim. No, she wouldn't do it! She had never in her life thought her parents would resort to this. They had always been loving and kind. This was unreasonable and simply unacceptable.
Father's brows drew down, half covering his eyes, and his face grew darker. "It wasn't a request, Johanna. We've been telling you to find a husband for two years now and you've shown no interest. None a'tall. At eighteen, your mother was married with a baby with another on the way." His Irish temper showed for just a moment before he got it under control. "Edmund Berkeley is an old friend, and he is not only kind and generous, he's also very wealthy. You'll never want for anything with him."
"But he won't be staying here, now, will he?" She already knew the answer. She had no desire to go back to New York City. She'd spent the first five years of her life there, before Congress had passed the Homestead Act, and she had vague memories of the tall buildings and people rushing everywhere. No, she wouldn't be a part of that again, especially not for a man thrice her age.
John McDonough scoffed, sitting back in his chair. "Of course not. You can honeymoon here. You're welcome back for vacation any time you like, but you'll be returning to New York with him." His tone of voice, and the look he leveled at his eldest daughter, brooked no argument.
Johanna had enough, she stood and slapped her hands on the desk, leaning forward. "No. I shan't. You have no right—"
"I have every right—"
She yelled, "No, I have every right! If women can own land here with the homesteading laws, then you have no legal control over me. I will not marry a man three times my age and leave the only home I can remember. Send him back. I won't do it." She straightened and crossed her arms, glaring daggers at her father. She knew her anger was getting the best of her, and he would blame it on her red-headed, Irish temper, but that couldn't be further from the truth. What he demanded—it disgusted her more than anything in her life. How dare he treat her like a child, expecting her to comply with his every wish? She was a woman and expected to be treated like one.
He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I can't. He's already on his way. He'll be here in two weeks."
Johanna's jaw dropped and she sputtered. "You already made plans without consulting me? Without my permission?" She stared at her father as if seeing him for the first time. Had her real father been replaced by an evil twin?
Now he leaned forward, his hands flat on the desk. "That's why it's called an 'arranged marriage.' I don't need your permission. This is how it was done in my father's time, in the village back in Ireland where he was a boy. I see no dishonor in following the tradition when you won't find a man for yourself."
She threw her hands up the in the air and circled the chair. "And how am I supposed to do that when you have me working sunrise to sunset in this place? How am I supposed to do that when you never let me go anywhere alone? Never let me spend time with a man? You scared them all away!"
Father snorted. "I did no such thing. And if you really wanted a man, you would have found a way around it."
The anger flared again, then went icy cold. "So, you're telling me I should've broken your rules to find a husband, but that I have no rights as your daughter. I might as well start wearing rags and call you master then!" She didn't mean that, but in her anger the words sprang out of her mouth before she could stop them.
John McDonough stood, his mustache quivering with his obvious rage. “That can be arranged. Actually, that’s a good idea. Maybe serving as a maid for a week or two will instill some respect and humility.”
“What? No—” While she had no qualms about doing her share of the work, she hated when he punished her by forcing her to work as a maid. The uniform, as well as the dirty work, drove her crazy. She much preferred the registration desk, greeting people and taking payment.
"You have no choice, Johanna. None. You have disrespected me and shown yourself prideful and disobedient. Two weeks of maid duty. Inform Margaret and get to work.” He sat back down and returned to his papers, disregarding her as he always did.
“But—” she tried one last time, knowing even as she did he wouldn't give in to her pleas. He was too much of a despot to care what anyone else thought in his little empire.
He didn’t even look up. “Out. We're finished here. You'll marry Edmund Berkeley, and that's the end of it."
She turned and stormed to the door, his final words thrown like a knife to her heart. "At least you'll finally have the wealth to go along with your superior attitude. You've certainly acted rich for long enough."
She stiffened, but didn't let him see how much those words hurt.
Johanna yanked open the door, her nephew Jesse tumbling forward. The little beast had been listening to the whole thing. “Jesse McDonough, shame on you! Get on out of here before I tell your father about your shenanigans.” His father was her favorite sibling, and he was usually on her side.
The curly, red-headed boy glared up at her. “It’s not like you were trying to keep it private or anything. I heard you clear out to the front of the hotel. Everybody heard.”
She reddened, her lips thinning. “Regardless, listening like that is rude.” She wanted to scream, but apparently she'd already done enough of that.
He stood, almos
t taller than her now, even at only thirteen years. “It sounds like you’re the rude one, talking back to Grand-da like that.”
Without thinking she called him a name she knew would hurt him and almost immediately regretted it. "Pest!" She wasn’t usually prone to calling names, but the fight with her father, and then finding out her nephew had been eavesdropping the whole time, had put her over the edge. His eyes welled with tears and he sucked in a quivering lip, then turned and ran down the hall and out the front door.
"Shut the door behind you!" Father called out. Evidently he’d missed the entire exchange with Jesse.
Ignoring her father, she stormed down the hall, past the dining area, and toward her younger sister working behind the front desk. Margaret looked up and must have seen some of what Johanna felt because her sister took a step back, then gathered herself and came around the counter to put an arm around Johanna.
“What happened? I heard yelling but couldn’t understand the words. Father again?” She sounded sympathetic. Maybe Margaret would give her the sympathetic ear she needed. Sometimes her sister could act almost like a friend.
Johanna nodded. “Yes. He’s arranged a marriage. For me.” Of all people her father could have arranged a marriage for, she should have been at the bottom of the list. Everyone knew she hated not being in control of her own life.
Margaret smiled brightly. “Really?” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”
Johanna’s heart sank. So much for sympathy from these quarters. “No, Margaret, it’s not! He wants to marry me off to some old man from New York. Who’s the marriage for, really? Me? Or the connections and wealth it will give Father?” She couldn’t help the bitter tone that crept into her voice.
Her sister gave a very unladylike snort. “That’s ridiculous. Father wouldn’t gain anything. He's already the wealthiest man in these parts, and he’s been friends with Edmund for decades. The man lost his wife a few years back and has been lonely. This way father helps a friend and gives you a wealthy husband, setting you up for life. You should be grateful.”
Johanna stiffened, staring at her sister in shock. “Grateful? I can’t believe you! And how did you know who he was marrying me to since I didn't tell you? What kind of sister doesn't give fair warning about something this monstrous?” She took a step closer to Margaret, trying to intimidate her. "You should be on my side!"
Margaret continued to fold the cloth napkins. “I am on your side. I just see things differently than you do.” Her younger sister went behind the large desk and rummaged beneath it, then returned with a long black dress and white apron and handed it to Johanna. “Here you go. You did say Father assigned you maid duty for a week or so, didn't you?”
Johanna glared at her sister, then yanked the clothing out of her hands. “No, I didn't! Were you eavesdropping?” She glared at her sister, wondering what was wrong with her, first hiding things from her, and then listening at doors.
Margaret smiled. “That’s what sisters are for, don’t you know?” She obviously wasn't even ashamed of her behavior.
Johanna threw the clothes in her sister's face before pushing her to the floor. "There are days that I think I'd do better having no sisters than a scheming shrew like you!"
Margaret jumped up, going at Johanna with her hands curled into claws. "You think you're better than everyone else, but you're not!"
Johanna unpinned her sister's hair at the back, letting the beautiful switch of hair fall to the floor. "At least I don't have to pretend to have longer hair than I do." She spun on her heel and left, not caring that she left her sister sputtering after her. Margaret was one of the vainest women Johanna knew, and she was happy to aim her blow straight to where it would hurt the most.
Chapter Two
Benjamin Jarrett flicked the reins to speed up the horses. He was going to try to see John McDonough, owner of Les Eaux de Guérison, the local hotspot for all the wealthy of New England for vacations and honeymoons. The hot springs were said to heal all kinds of ailments, but Benjamin wasn't sure he believed it. For him, the heated water just felt good for washing himself, and he'd sneaked down there often enough to know. That wasn't his purpose today, though. He needed a job to help his parents, his two brothers and their families, as well as himself. They'd lost so much in the swarm of locusts the year before, they weren't sure they'd make it through another winter without some extra money coming in, and if that meant Benjamin had to work to help the family, then that's what he'd do. His brothers would mind his homestead while he was away, so it was a fair trade.
Shortly before noon, Benjamin pulled up in front of the place the locals called, "Stinky Waters" and let the groomsmen take his horses and wagon, then direct him to the office of John McDonough. He hadn't even taken three steps when a young man of about thirteen, dressed as nicely as any gentleman, approached him and bowed. "Welcome to Les Eaux de Guérison! What are you here for today?" The foreign words spun off his tongue like silk, making Benjamin wonder if he spoke two languages.
Surprised, Benjamin answered. "I, uh, need some work and was hoping Mr. McDonough might have need of my skills." He was almost embarrassed to have to tell this young man, who was obviously wealthy, what he was there for.
The boy began to walk slowly at his side. "Really." He put both hands behind his back. "What kind of skills do you have?"
Benjamin shrugged. "Just about anything. I'm good with the livestock. I've a homestead up the hill, so I can grow most things. I am also good at fixing just about everything that can be fixed. I can build, cook, clean—if you need it, I can do it." He hoped he wasn't overselling himself, though it was all true. It was pretty important to be self-sufficient as a homesteader.
The boy nodded as if he were in charge of the place and not John McDonough. Benjamin fought a laugh at the boy's self-importance. "I think I know just the person for you to speak to. Her name is Johanna and she is Mr. McDonough's oldest daughter. If anyone can get you in to see him, it would be her."
Benjamin's heart leapt. This was going to be easier than he'd expected. He smacked a hand down on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. "Thank you, boy. I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."
The boy looked up at him, a twinkle in his eye. "No problem at all, sir. Call me Edmund. Edmund Berkeley. Be sure and tell Miss McDonough I sent you."
He returned the boy's grin. "I certainly shall! Thanks, Edmund." He took two steps forward, then stopped, and turned. "Uh, where can I find Miss McDonough?"
Edmund laughed. "Follow the path to the front door, go inside, and she'll be behind the large desk where people check-in. She'll be the one in the maid's uniform. Don't forget to tell her who sent you!" he said as Benjamin took off with a long step.
"I shall! Don't you worry, boy. She'll know." Laughter sounded behind him, but when he looked, the boy was gone. He shrugged his shoulders and, whistling, made his way up the path, then up the steps to the front door. Before opening it, he took off his hat and slicked down his hair, straightening his vest and inspecting his clothing for dust or stains.
They looked decent, despite the amount of time he'd had to travel to get there. His entire family was counting on him to make this work, so there was a lot sitting on his shoulders. He had to get some kind of job here or they were going to have to give up their homesteads and go back to Boston with nothing. He, for one, wasn't willing to do that. Straightening his collar, he pushed the door open and stepped into the grand foyer of Les Eaux de Guérison, also known as Stinky Waters hotel, though he'd never call it that in front of these people. They'd be offended he was sure.
He hadn't expected the leg up the boy was giving him, but he certainly wasn't going to refuse it. He was thrilled he hadn't simply dismissed the boy, and had instead told him of his purpose there. Surely he was being favored as a result.
Benjamin walked through the large, double doors and looked around. The hotel was not quite as lavish as he’d been led to believe, but it was still much nicer than
what he was used to. He’d seen a few that were nicer in Boston when Father had sent him about the city on errands, but only a few.
The sound of women’s voices echoed from the left, so Benjamin took off his hat and meandered in that direction. As he walked toward them, they went silent and watched him approach. Two young ladies, both red-headed and slender, probably close in age and obviously related, stood near the check-in desk. The one to the left was wearing the maid's uniform and seemed upset. According to the kid, she was most likely to be the lady he needed to speak with, so he addressed her. “Are you Miss Johanna McDonough?”
She seemed surprised but nodded. “Yes. I’m Johanna McDonough. Can I help you?” She looked up and smiled, causing his heart to pound in his chest. She had been beautiful before, but her smile made her face come alive. She had to be one of the loveliest women he’d ever met in his life, but she didn’t seem snooty about it, like the women in Boston had.
He extended his hand, not sure how to greet this pretty lady. “I’m Benjamin Jarrett. Edmund Berkeley sent me to find you. He said you could introduce me to your father.” He stood smiling, his hat clutched in his left hand.
Johanna’s face froze, and she couldn't seem to find her voice. She ignored his proffered hand, looking at it as if it was a snake. It puzzled him, to be sure. She’d been warm and sunny, and now she was cold as a winter frost. She'd seemed to freeze when he'd mentioned the young boy's name. "Miss? Are you all right? You are the correct Miss McDonough? You can arrange a meeting with your father?" He fiddled with his hat, turning it in circles in his hands.
"Yes. I can arrange a meeting, though I have yet to see why I should," she snapped. "If your Master Berkeley thinks he can marry me just because my father arranged it, he can think again! I will not. Not ever. You can report that back to him." She approached him, stomping on his foot with all the strength she could muster. He felt it, but not enough to really hurt. His pride stung more than anything. Before he could say a thing, Johanna stormed past him and swished out the front doors without looking back. Who'd have thought a woman could look so beautiful in a maid's uniform?
Johanna (Dakota Bound Book 1) Page 1
