Chance Creek Brides (Volumes 1-3 & the Stagecoach Bride)

by Mary L. Briggs

  “That should get you there,” the man smiled. “And be careful, the roads are starting to flood. They say it’s tearing up the bathhouses down on the beach. Looks like a big storm is brewing.”

  Mark nodded “Thank you, sir.”

  Sketch in hand, he headed out the door, hand on his hat, lest the wind whip it away. Outside, he stopped to grin at an improvised raft made of two washtubs tied together, each with a boy aboard. He watched as they floated on past. The water had risen several inches since he’d gone in the store. Another homemade craft came right behind the washtubs, this one constructed of several boards nailed together.

  The children of Galveston were having a grand time with all the water. Something stirred inside of him. All this water in the streets didn’t seem right to him, but with the three foot-high curbs as proof, he tried to convince himself that it was a normal occurrence.

  He pulled the watch from his pocket. Eleven o’clock. Shepherd’s Point peninsula looked to be several miles away. He snapped shut the case and walked a few more blocks inland, where the water wasn’t so deep. Arm up, he hailed the nearest cab and watched as the horse struggled through the swirling water toward him.

  He sighed as he waited and stared at the dark sky. It seemed a shame to waste the money when he might walk, but with the weather a factor, time was more important. And Addie was afraid of storms. He wanted to be with her when this one came ashore.

  ***

  A gust of wind hit the window pane and ripped away the potted plant hanging outside the widow. Addie screamed and dropped her cup of coffee, sending the steaming contents over her skirt.

  Rose rushed to her with a towel, dabbing at the spots on her dress. “It’s alright, Addie. Just. . .just a storm. If it gets too bad, we can go out in the lighthouse with Michael.”

  Addie tried to find comfort in her friend’s words. But the tremble in Rose’s voice gave way to the fact that she was nervous, too.

  A knock at the door distracted both of them from their thoughts.

  ***

  Addie lifted another pot of coffee from the stove. She had been pouring cups for the last hour. The living room of Rose and Michael’s small house was crowded. Over thirty people, mostly neighbors and friends, had managed to cram themselves into the small front room. Others were standing in the bedrooms and hallway, all sure that the house on Shepherd’s Point was stronger than their own. At least the activity kept her mind busy. But her stomach roiled to match the wind outside. If only the storm would hurry and pass.

  Rose traded an empty pot for the full one Addie had and sent her back to the kitchen. While she was filling the pot with water, she heard the front door open again. Where were they going to put more people?

  Rose stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Her voice was quiet as she came next to Addie. “Michael thinks maybe we ought to all go over to the lighthouse. It’s stronger than the cottage. Let‘s just gather up some more supplies. There‘s a small living quarters up near the light. We can make coffee and serve from there.”

  Addie’s heart sank. Michael had been so cheerful about the storm earlier, enjoying all the wind and the high surf. What had changed his mind?

  ***

  Addie and Rose made their way to the top of the staircase, both carrying boxes of coffee, crackers, and cheese. Michael followed them, toting two large containers of water. Below, Addie could hear the voices of the neighbors that had come to seek refuge. Every moment or two, the door would open and another group seeking refuge would enter the lighthouse. Glancing down, she another long line of people streaming inside. How would they ever feed so many people?

  Chapter 37

  The cold rain, sideways in the wind, blew inside the cab, soaking Mark’s jacket and trousers. Outside, the water seemed to rise more with each passing moment. The sharp droplets pelted his face, stinging his cheeks and chin, as if a hundred insects were biting him at once.

  Mark pulled his hat lower. How the cabbie, open to the elements was enduring all of it was a mystery. But he wished the man would hurry. He had to get to Addie.

  The cab stopped. Mark leaned over and looked at the water rolling into them from both sides. It was time to walk.

  “I can’t get any closer,” the driver shouted over the wind. “I’m going to have to turn back.”

  Mark held on to his hat and looked behind them. “I don’t see how you can make it. You’d better come with me,” he said, pointing to the massive red and white lighthouse ahead. “The fellow back at the store told me the thing is ironclad. It looks like it can take anything the storm is going to throw at us.”

  The man shook his head. “I’ve got a family. Got to get back to them.”

  “What’s your name?” Mark asked.

  “Brown. Job Brown,” the man shouted.

  “I’ll be praying for you Mr. Brown. You’d better hurry.”

  Mark grabbed the reins and helped him turn the cab around. The fellow was going to have a hard trip back. He held out his hand and they shook. “God be with you, sir.” Help him get back safely to his family, Lord. And give them comfort knowing that he is doing his best to get to them.

  Turning around, he took his first wet, wind-beaten step toward Shepherd’s Point.

  ***

  The wind outside howled louder and louder. And the heat was oppressive. If only there was a window to open. Addie stepped inside the small kitchen and covered her ears. She would not cry. It would only make things worse. And crying wouldn’t stop this awful storm. Surely it would pass soon.

  “Addie, are you alright?”

  She opened her eyes. She should be ashamed of herself, causing Rose to worry. Here the woman was with a baby on the way and, by now, nearly a hundred people to feed. “Yes. I’m fine.” If only she could convince herself. “I just. . .it’s the wind.”

  Rose patted her shoulder and smiled. “I know. It wears on you. I keep thinking if only it would stop for a moment or so. . .but,” Rose cleared her throat and lowered her voice, “Michael thinks it might be a hurricane, Addie. It. . .it will only get worse before it gets better. But we will be alright.”

  A hurricane? No, please no. She had heard of them. Huge storms that did massive damage. It took every ounce of courage not to sink to the floor and curl up tight. She had to be brave, help Rose and Michael however she could.

  She took a deep breath. The work would keep her mind from giving in to the fear that lurked inside. Help me to face this, Lord. I know that You are here, with us. Help me to be an encouragement to others so that they won’t be afraid.

  She was such a hypocrite, praying about helping others not to fear when she could give in and be consumed with it in a moment‘s time. But somehow, maybe God would keep that from happening.

  ***

  Mark fought against the wind, leaning into the gale, clinging to the railing as he climbed the stairs to the small stoop of the lighthouse. His hat sailed away as his fist beat hard on the door. Would anyone be able to hear him over the squalling of the storm and pounding of the waves? “Open up!” He shouted. He felt, rather than heard the heavy door start to move.

  “Anyone else?” The man who opened the door asked. Mark shook his head and helped him push the door against the wind. A wave of water rolled under the door as they pushed it shut.

  Inside the lighthouse, it was hot and damp. The air smelled of a curious mixture of lamp oil and human sweat. The only light seemed to come from a few railroad lanterns on the wall as it rose upward. A small window very high in the structure, let in a minimum of grey daylight.

  He ran his fingers through his wet hair and gazed in amazement at the spiral staircase that wound to the top. Every step was crowded with people, young and old, trying to escape the storm. He swallowed hard. Surely she was here. Somewhere. Rose would be the one she would turn to. If not, she was still out in that raging storm. And he would go find her.

  The murmurings of the crowd echoed against the brick walls. Mark stepped to the center o
f the floor, under the stairway, and stared up through the spirals. Cupping his hands around his mouth he raised his voice and listened to it echo against the brick walls. “Adeline Fleming?” The words rang up the long spiral of steps. He shouted louder as the voices quieted. “Adeline Fleming? Are you here?”

  High up a few people stirred as a dark headed woman stepped to the top of the stairs.

  Relief flooded through him. Thank you, Lord. “Adeline?” The crowd, now quiet seemed to wait for him to say something else.

  Surely she couldn’t refuse to see him in front of so many witnesses. “I’m coming up.”

  An irritated murmur sounded through the crowd. It meant all of them would have to move as he passed.

  And so he began his journey, one foot at a time. Everyone stayed seated on their own step as he put one soggy boot between two people and pulled his weight to put the other foot between two on the next step. He apologized at every step, but no one was going to stop him from getting to her.

  Chapter 38

  Shock washed through her. What would make a man like him come after her? And now, he would be here when this storm killed them all. It was her fault. Please forgive me, Lord. He’s a good man. Please spare him, even if I have to die.

  As so many times before, since she arrived in America, he had come to rescue her, take care of her. She turned to Rose and clutched her arm. “I can’t believe he’s here. I thought I’d never see him again.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Rose smiled and nodded. “I think that man loves you, Addie. You had better be thinking about that good and hard while he makes his way up here.”

  Another loud crash hit the outside of the lighthouse and a gasp went through the mass packed into the staircase as the lanterns hung along the stairs seemed to sway with the boom of the waves hitting the building. Addie and Rose clutched the top of the iron stair rail and waited for the vibrations to stop.

  Michael appeared behind them, his arm at once went around his wife. He raised his voice. “It’s alright, folks. She’s a sturdy lighthouse. She’ll hold.” His voice was strong and confident.

  It was meant to be reassuring, but just the thought that they need such hope sent shivers of terror through Addie. It was more than just a storm. Mark had said they were common in Texas, but something about this one was different than the others. People didn’t usually gather in the lighthouses of Galveston for an everyday squall, she realized. And the expressions on the faces of those crowded so close held nothing but fear. This hurricane was beyond anything the natives of this place had endured before now.

  She turned her eyes down the staircase. Her heartbeat increased as she caught sight of him again. She could see his blond head, dark in the low light, now, half-way up his climb. He had stopped to pat a small child with braided hair. He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her. Candy or gum, she guessed. It was like him to comfort a child.

  Someday he would be a wonderful husband and father to a very blessed woman. It wouldn’t be her, but, while he was here, just for a moment, she could pretend. She resisted the urge to head down the staircase as fast as she could. She needed his arms around her, holding her close, assuring her everything was going to be all right, even if it wasn’t.

  She shook her head. What was wrong with her that she’d never seen him for what he really was? He treated her as an equal, always valuing her opinion, always waiting to hear what she had to say about any subject, never laughing at her or patronizing her views. Except that one time, perhaps, when he had believed it wasn’t possible for a girl like her to feel love for him.

  Mother had always said that life depended on choices. And so far, she had made all of the wrong ones. How could Adam have turned out to be so different than she had believed? And how had she turned blind eyes to the only man that really loved her?

  She caught Rose staring at her and smiled at her friend. “He must have come to say good-bye. He had to know that I would be going back to England,” she offered, by way of explanation.

  Rose shook her head and gave a knowing laugh. “Oh, Addie. Stop being so stubborn. You said he loves you. That’s what brought him here. You need him.”

  Addie blinked back more tears. “He shouldn’t have come.” Now he will die with the rest of us. But she wouldn’t say it aloud.

  Rose put her hand on Addie’s arm. “That‘s what loves does, Addie. It puts others first, before themselves. Besides,” she laughed, “he doesn‘t sound like a man that gives up on something he wants.”

  Addie felt the sting of hot tears forming behind her eyelids. Was it really possible, that after everything that had happened, after every cruel and mean thing she had said, that he might still love her?

  He only had a few more curves of the stairs before he would be to the top. She could see how soaked his clothes were. What had he endured to get to Shepherd’s Point? Rose shoved a dry towel into her hands as she waited for him.

  Just a staircase below, he looked up and his eyes met hers. She pushed the towel over her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud. The tears began to flow freely down her face. There was no doubting the expression on his face. He was here for her.

  Another four steps and she was in his arms, holding as tight as she could. He gently touched the top of her head and forced her face to look at him. His lips were on hers at once. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  She would have stayed in that kiss forever, but the people lining the stairs were beginning to clap and cheer, although practically none of them knew what relationship existed between the two people above. Mark pulled away and turned and waved to the sweat-soaked crowd below.

  He shouted. “I’m getting ready to ask this woman a very important question and I think I may need a preacher. Is there one in the house?

  Addie stared into his face. Was he oblivious to the storm? Didn’t he know they were all going to die?

  “Well?” he said, turning his eyes to hers. “Will you marry me?”

  Doubt seized her. “You still want me?”

  “Forever.”

  She bit her lip as another gust hit the building, sending the walls shuddering, the people below shrieking. “That may not be too long if this storm gets much worse.”

  He leaned in and spoke in her ear. “None of us, but God, knows what’s going to be happening in the next few hours, but whatever it is, I want to be here with you because I love you. There is no place else I’d rather be, Addie. So I’m asking you again. . .will you marry me?”

  She couldn’t trust herself to speak. She nodded and hugged tight to him as the building began to shudder again. With his arms around her, it was the safest she had ever felt in a storm.

  “We’ve found one!” Someone shouted from far below. “He’s coming up.”

  Chapter 39

  Silence, save an infant’s cry and the howling wind, filled the lighthouse as Reverend Fortson began, his voice echoing down the spiral of steps.

  “We are all gathered here today to take refuge from the storm that rages outside. Many of us are afraid. But we must remember that God is in charge and we can trust in Him for whatever is in store for our future. I am going to begin by reading a passage from the fourth chapter of Philippians, verses six through nine.

  6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

  7 And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

  8 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

  9 Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.

  “God is with us in the midst of this storm, ladies and gentlemen. Let us all remem
ber that truth as we go through the night. Now let us all bow our heads, before we say the words that will unite these two young people in holy matrimony.”

  Addie clenched her teeth and tried to ignore the swarming mass of bees in her stomach. She was more nervous about the ceremony than the horrid storm. Rose had done her best to smooth the old green calico she wore and her damp hair was tied back with her friend’s own green ribbon. Something borrowed, she had said.

  Mark was still soaking wet from his time in the storm. But none of it mattered. They were together.

  She repeated the words after Reverend Brown, meaning each one. It seemed the vows had barely started until they were finished. To her amazement, from his pocket, Mark produced a gold ring and slipped it on her finger.

  “You may kiss your bride, Mr. Murphy.”

  His lips were soft on hers and he pulled her close as the building began to shake again. But it didn’t matter. She belonged to him.

  Epilogue

  Winter of 1903

  Addie stuffed her crochet hook and ball of yarn into the apron pocket as she stared out the farmhouse window. Her husband should be home at any time. Which would be best if his dinner was going to be eaten in a state other than cold. She could only warm it so many times before it was dried to a crisp.

  Sighing, she left the window and poured another cup of coffee. Breaking off the crisp edge of the cornbread, she popped it into her mouth, for a brief moment, enjoying the crunchy corn flavor. The baby kicked and she smiled and patted her belly. “So you’re hungry, too, little one.”