Capital Bride

by Cynthia Woolf

  “I’d be delighted,” answered her little girl, so grown up. Sarah’s heart twisted in her chest. MaryAnn had missed so much being raised without other children. She was so mature for her five years.

  “Now, my darling. Tell me where you’ll be headed.”

  “I’m hoping we’ll be leaving for the Colorado Territory. A place called Golden City. It’s the territorial capital, so not too small a city, I hope. Perhaps once we are settled and it looks to work, you’ll come out.”

  Mrs. Adams nodded. “And what will you do there?”

  “I’m getting married.”

  “Married!”

  “Yes. You might as well know. I signed on to be a mail order bride. The gentleman I’m going to marry is a cattle rancher and has a daughter around MaryAnn’s age. It’ll be good for MaryAnn to have a playmate.”

  “That’s awfully far away. Couldn’t you marry someone closer?”

  “Agnes, you know that’s not possible. The only one who would have me is cousin William and I find that idea totally unacceptable. He is my cousin, after all.”

  “Understandable. But that doesn’t change my wish you could find someone right here in New York. I’ll never understand society’s shunning of you. You shouldn’t have to pay for one mistake for the rest of your life.”

  Though she didn’t see her beautiful daughter, conceived in love, as mistake, she simply smiled. “Thank you but you know the only way I could stay here is to marry William or turn to something unsavory. I’m not qualified for anything else.”

  “What about a governess?”

  “No one wants a woman who has been ‘soiled’ anywhere near their children for fear that my lack of morals will somehow rub off on them.” She took a sip of her tea.

  “Mommy, what is ‘soiled’? Doesn’t that mean dirty?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

  “How can you be dirty? You wash all the time.”

  “Yes, I do, don’t I?” laughed Sarah.

  MaryAnn nodded vigorously. “And you make me do it, too.”

  “Anyway, I will write you,” said Sarah, hoping to distract MaryAnn.

  “Mommy.”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “How can you be dirty and clean at the same time?”

  I’ve wondered the same thing myself, thought Sarah, but she said, “Time to tell you the truth. Some people think that because I wasn’t married when I had you that I’m soiled.”

  “But you said that Daddy died before you could get married. So it’s not your fault.”

  “Most grownups wouldn’t agree with you, sweetie. They think your daddy and I were wrong to share our love before we were properly wed.”

  “But aren’t we supposed to share our love with other people?”

  “Yes, we are. There are just some rules about grownup love that you don’t understand yet.”

  MaryAnn slowly shook her head. “I think it must be real hard to be a grownup.”

  Surprised by her baby’s insight, she asked, “Why do you think so?”

  “‘Cause. You got to ‘member a whole bunch of kid rules and then there’s a whole bunch of grownup rules and you got to ‘member all them, too.”

  Sarah chuckled. “I think you have the right of it. What say you, Agnes?”

  The old lady wore a smile. “I’d say you are correct, Miss MaryAnn. And it doesn’t get any easier the older you get because there’s a whole other set of rules for us old people.”

  “Agnes, would you care to join us for Sunday luncheon? William will be coming with Ms. Kendall and it will be sort of a farewell celebration.”

  “That would be lovely. Remind Peters on your way out, would you?”

  “Of course. Say goodbye, MaryAnn.”

  MaryAnn went to Agnes and gave her a hug. “Goodbye, Mrs. Adams. Thank you for having a tea party with me.”

  “You’re quite welcome, dear girl. Quite welcome, indeed.” Agnes hugged her back like she’d never let her go. It was going to be especially hard to say goodbye to her. Agnes had been Sarah’s rock since Aunt Gertrude died.

  Sarah took MaryAnn’s hand and they walked down the stairs where Peters waited with their coats and hats.

  “Thank you, Peters. Please remind Mrs. Adams that she is having Sunday luncheon with us. It will be served at one o’clock.”

  “Yes, Miss. I shall endeavor to remind her and will escort her myself.”

  “Wonderful, you shall join us as well.”

  “Oh no, Miss. It’s not done. I shall return here and wait until it’s time to come back and retrieve my mistress.”

  Sarah nodded. “Very well. We’ll see you on Sunday.”

  As they walked home MaryAnn asked, “Where is Colorado Territory?”

  “It’s west of here a very long way. It’s going to take us many days to travel there. Do you think you can be an especially good girl for Mama while we travel?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I heard you say he has a little girl. Will she be my sister if you marry her daddy?”

  “Yes, I guess she will. Do you think you’ll like having a sister?”

  She thought about it a minute before answering. “I think I will. It’ll be nice to have someone small to talk to.”

  Sarah smiled. “Yes, it will, won’t it?”

  They reached the house and went inside. The fire William built was burning low. Sarah added more wood.

  In front of the fireplace were two wing chairs. MaryAnn sat in one of them. She looked so small. Her eyes, the pale blue of Sarah’s own, sat in stark contrast to the inky black hair and eyelashes she’d inherited from her father. Except for the eyes, MaryAnn was a miniature of Lee. Everyday Sarah was reminded of the man she loved, whose face would be faded from memory if not for her daughter. MaryAnn kept him alive. Even so, his strong jaw and boisterous laugh were all but gone.

  In manner, MaryAnn was totally unlike her father. He’d been fun loving, teasing and always joyful. She was solemn and thoughtful. So much like her mother.

  “Mama, why are you crying?”

  She hadn’t realized tears trickled from her eyes. Sarah sat in the other chair. “I was just thinking about your father. Come here and let me hold you.”

  The little girl dutifully got up and went to her mother, sitting on her lap and relaxing in her arms.

  “He was a good man, your father. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.”

  “I won’t. How old was he when he died?”

  “He was twenty-two, just like me. We’d been sweethearts for as long as I can remember. We always knew we’d get married, but then the war started and he went off to fight. I didn’t see him for so long. He came home wounded. Shot in the shoulder, and we decided as soon as he got out of the hospital we’d marry. We set the date for the following Sunday. He was called back on Friday. We only had a few hours together before he left again. We made the most of them. We made you.”

  “Why does it make you sad when you look at me?”

  “Oh, my darling, I’m not sad when I look at you. I’m so happy to have you and love you so much. I sometimes cry because I know your daddy will never get to know you.”

  “Will I have to call this new man, Daddy?”

  “No, not if you don’t want to.” She squeezed her daughter. “Now enough serious talk. Let’s go to the kitchen and make luncheon. I’ll even make us some hot chocolate. What do you think about that?”

  Sarah saw her eyes sparkle before she scooted off Sarah’s lap. “I’d like that very much please.”

  “Good. Let’s see what we have to eat with that.”

  Sarah watched her little girl skip to the kitchen, their serious talk forgotten with the prospect of a sweet treat.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sarah hoped some day to publish a book of recipes. That’s why she’d written down all of Cook’s recipes. But it wasn’t just to make a book, which she still planned to do, but because she needed them, to use them. She had them carefully tucked away in one of the four steamer trunks she brough
t. Each trunk was filled to bursting with clothes, shoes and books. She may be going to the frontier but she that didn’t mean she couldn’t be civilized.

  Before they left for the boarding house she’d gotten out her grandmother’s wedding ring. She’d never worn it before because everyone knew she wasn’t married. Now though, they didn’t know and it would stop a lot of questions she’d rather not answer. The plain gold band fit perfectly on her finger. She felt her grandmother’s strength with it on, that she could face anything. When she married Mr. Atwood she would wear his ring on her left hand and her grandmothers on her right.

  Sarah and MaryAnn arrived in Denver on May 15th at half past four in the afternoon. They’d spent seven generally uncomfortable days on several different railroads to get there. MaryAnn had been a blessing, making friends with other people on the train along the way. Even so, Sarah didn’t care if she never saw another train again. She was tired and cranky, definitely not a good traveler, unlike her daughter, who seemed more excited with each new landscape they crossed.

  Sarah’d had enough prairie, corn fields and cattle by the second day out of Chicago. Denver sat at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Magnificent in their grandeur and a blessing to Sarah because it meant their trip was at an end. She was to meet Mr. Atwood here at the station.

  The porters unloaded her trunks and she had MaryAnn stand beside them, while she panicked. One of the trunks was missing. Until she unpacked them she wouldn’t know which one.

  “What do you mean one of my trunks is missing? How can you mislay a steamer trunk?”

  “I’m sorry Ma’am. We’ll find it and send it to you when we do.” The poor conductor was almost as upset as Sarah.

  She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Very well. Here is the address of where I’ll be. Please send the trunk there as soon as possible.”

  He accepted her ticket and handed her a receipt back. “Yes, Ma’am. Again please accept my apologies.”

  She nodded and walked back to where MaryAnn stood.

  It was May, but the chill air gave Sarah shivers. She pulled MaryAnn closer to keep her warm. MaryAnn taking a chill was that last thing that Sarah needed. The trunks blocked part of the wind that whistled by the open platform, but none of the cold.

  In a short while, a large man pulled up driving a long wagon with side boards. He had dark coffee brown hair that brushed the collar of his black wool coat and was graying at the temples. With his vivid green eyes he was one of the handsomest men she’d encountered in some time. Why would this man need a mail order bride?

  Next to him was a little girl with hair as pale as MaryAnn’s was dark. She had the same green eyes as her father. The black coat she was growing out of revealed the hem to her light blue dress peeking out the bottom. This had to be Mr. Atwood and Katy.

  He jumped down and then held his arms up to the child. The girl fell into them and wrapped her arms around his neck. There she buried her face, clearly not wanting to meet her new stepmother and sister.

  He carried her up the stairs of the platform stopping in front of Sarah. Now that he was closer she saw that his green eyes were rimmed with dark lashes and stood in sharp contrast to his dark hair. Sun, wind and laughter had left lines at his mouth and eyes, giving him character. His face was very pleasing with a sexy shadow of stubble on his strong jaw.

  “Mrs. Johnson?” His smooth baritone washed over her leaving her with a little tingle of awareness. One she hadn’t felt in years. Not since before Lee died.

  Sarah nodded. “Yes. Mr. Atwood?”

  “Yes. This is Katy,” he smiled down at the girl in his arms.

  “Hello, Katy. I’m Sarah and this is my daughter MaryAnn,” Sarah said. She placed her arm around MaryAnn’s shoulders pulling her into her side.

  “Hello,” said MaryAnn.

  Katy turned and looked at MaryAnn, then buried her face in her father’s neck once again.

  “Katy doesn’t speak.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry,” said Sarah.

  “Don’t be. It’s not that she can’t talk, she just doesn’t. I’ll explain later. I’ve made arrangements to stay at the Melvin Hotel for tonight. It’s one of the finest in town. Then if you’re still willing, we’ll get married by the Justice of the Peace here in Denver tomorrow and head back to Golden City right after.”

  “I believe that will be splendid.” Her heart raced a bit and she found she was nervous and excited at the prospect of becoming this man’s wife. “As you can see we came to stay,” she waved at the three trunks. “I’m glad you brought a big wagon, although we are missing one trunk. The railroad seems to have lost it during one of the train changes we went through to get here.”

  “I’m sure they’ll find it. I just hope it wasn’t something you’ll need right away. Did you give them our address?”

  “Yes, I did.” Sarah’s stomach took that moment to decide to grumble with hunger. She placed delicate hands over her fine flat stomach drawing attention right to where she’d rather not have, knowing she was flaming red with embarrassment, “Oh, excuse me.”

  “Good. By the way the wagon is called a buckboard. I wasn’t sure how much baggage you’d have. Let me get those loaded up and then,” he smiled hearing her stomach grumble, “we’ll go get some supper.”

  An hour later they were seated in the hotel dining room. Sarah ordered roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy for herself and MaryAnn. Mr. Atwood got a steak, rare, with fried potatoes on the side and fried chicken with mashed potatoes for Katy. All of the food looked wonderful. Sarah realized just how hungry she was for a real meal.

  MaryAnn enlivened the conversation and Sarah was grateful for her ability to put adults at ease. “What kind of ranch do you have Mr. Atwood? Do you have horses? Can you teach me to ride? We used to see riders at the park in New York.”

  He put down his fork and knife, wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and gave his full attention to MaryAnn. Then he smiled and it transformed his face, making him seem friendlier, less stern.

  “Well now, Miss MaryAnn, I raise cattle, but we do have horses that would be gentle enough for you and your mother.” He glanced over at Sarah, his green eyes warm and friendly. She shook her head no. “Or not. You don’t have to learn to ride.”

  Sarah felt herself flush under his gaze. “So, tell me about yourself, Mr. Atwood. Why would you need a mail order bride? This town looks plenty big enough for you to have found a girl to marry.”

  “That’s just the point. I don’t want a girl. I want a woman. One who might be able to help Katy. And to be completely honest, I don’t have the time or inclination to court a woman”

  Katy’s eyes narrowed and her murderous gaze went to her father. Clearly she didn’t like being the topic of conversation.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’m sure you will. Mrs. Selby thought Katy and MaryAnn would do well together.”

  Sarah nodded. “I hope so.”

  “This is delicious.” The flavor burst on her tongue and made her mouth water. “I’d love to ask the chef for the recipe. We haven’t had a real meal since we left New York.”

  “What did you do for food?” Concern rode his features.

  “At some of the stations there were housewives selling boxed lunches and I brought apples, cheese and bread with us in my valise. We had a seven day picnic.”

  “I’m sorry the trip was so long.” There was a modicum of guilt that showed in his eyes.

  “Don’t be.” Sarah felt herself blush again. “MaryAnn quite enjoyed herself. She’s a much better traveler than I am.”

  MaryAnn echoed the sentiment. “Mama got tired of the scenery not changing. Not me. I just kept looking for new things. Ant they were everywhere. Saw lots of animals. A man on the train told me the huge things were antelope and they were good eatin’.”

  Mr. Atwood laughed again. The deep baritone sound reached deep into Sarah. Her body reacted in a way she hadn’t felt in years. People’s heads turned and the w
omen’s eyes lingered on his very appealing face. “Well, your friend’s right about that. I used to hunt them. That was before we got the cattle operation going and antelope, deer or elk were what we ate.”

  As supper ended and she’d finished a wonderful piece of apple pie, Sarah tried to stifle a yawn. Seven days sitting up on a train was definitely beginning to wear on her. “Oh, pardon me. I’m afraid we need to retire for the evening. It has been a long trip and I think it’s catching up to me.”

  Mr. Atwood rose from the table as Sarah stood. “Completely understandable. Shall we meet here in the morning at say,” he pulled a pocket watch from his pants pocket, “six am?”

  “Oh. So early? What time do you have set for the marriage ceremony?”

  “Nine.”

  “Oh my, well what if we make it seven then? In the spirit of compromise, of course. We do want enough time to have breakfast beforehand.”

  “That’s agreeable.” He nodded his head and a lock of hair fell forward. It was all Sarah could do not to reach over and gently put it back in place. She itched to run her fingers through his thick, brown locks.

  Sarah noticed that both girls were almost silent during the meal. It might be normal for Katy but it most certainly was not for MaryAnn.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening, sweetheart,” she said to her daughter.

  MaryAnn looked over at Katy. “Maybe she don’t have nothin’ to say. Maybe that’s why she don’t talk.”

  Katy looked up at her father for help.

  He nodded to her and then said, “Katy doesn’t talk because she witnessed her mother’s death. I’ll explain later.”

  “John, may I call you John?”

  He nodded his head. Tension weighed on his shoulders. The change in his countenance told her he felt guilt about his wife’s death and perhaps Katy’s muteness.

  “You and Katy need to know, I’m not trying to replace your wife and her mother. We want to find our own place in this family not usurp your wife’s.”

  “Dorothy. Her name was Dorothy.” He said it softly, almost reverently.

  “I’m not trying to take Dorothy’s place.” If she hadn’t been across the table from him she’d have taken his hand in hers. As it was, she hoped her face conveyed her sorrow at his loss. It was all she could do for now.