by Caryl McAdoo
He promised he’d come back for her if she didn’t want to go, and they could marry then. He said two years, no more than three. Sounded almost a lifetime. Anything could happen in that much time.
No, she’d made her decision, and there’d be no turning back. She wanted him now, wanted to be his more than anything she’d ever wanted in all her days.
Once inside, she lit the lamp, turning the wick low and eased into Daddy’s forbidden sanctuary. His room. Slowly, she spun the dial on the safe in his oversized water closet. When the final number fell into place, and the handle unlatched the door, she remembered and took a deep breath.
Excellent, he hadn’t changed the combination.
She retrieved her strong box, slipped the key in, and pried the lid open. Right there, exactly as she’d seen the last time, a pile of gold pieces. She carefully counted the coins out into the bottom of the saddlebag, halving them to balance the weight.
One hundred lovely tinkling bits of gold, two thousand dollars, fifty per side. Yes, all there.
Wait. Bank notes lined the box’s bottom.
Where had those come from?
Pulling out the greenbacks, she counted them: five hundred and forty-two dollars. With no idea when Daddy added them for her, she decided only to be grateful. When made no difference.
God sent the money, knowing she’d need it. That would buy an extra ton of trade goods if Caleb figured right.
Folding the bills together, she put them in one side and replaced what few clothes she’d managed to pack on top. Then on second thought, decided to put the bills in her stockings. Maybe she’d hang onto the notes as a reserve.
Caleb already knew about the coins, but sure would be fun to be able to produce extra money if the need arose.
Carefully, she locked the safe back then headed to his desk and retrieved the Baby Paterson he kept in the top drawer. Surely her daddy wouldn’t begrudge her the loan of the Colt, would he? Should she leave a note?
With the pistol carefully stowed in the right-hand bag, the lantern out, and her eyes well readjusted, she eased into the hall then out the front door. New Blue rose, stretched, and greeted her.
She responded with a shush, giving the dog’s ear a good rub, then strolled around the house to the barn. He trotted along beside her.
Enough moonlight to see by outside, proved insufficient inside the barn. She pulled a box of matches from her pocket and lit a candle then quickly blew it out soon as she’d located what she needed.
Shortly, her daddy’s horse stood saddled and ready to go. She led him to the far end’s double doors then east, until out of earshot of the house. After only two tries, she got herself aboard.
“Go home, Newly! Go on.”
Been a long time since she sat a horse, but once she got her dress straightened out, she clucked him into an easy trot. Wouldn’t do to spend him without reason. Always best to keep a little in reserve just in case something unexpected happened.
Rose had taught her that. Goodness, what would she do if Indians tried stealing her?
Her heart beat a little faster at the prospect, and she kept a steady scan on both sides of the pasture, but nothing happened. Just like she and Caleb had planned, she beat the stage to Titus’s Trading Post in Mount Pleasant.
Of course, no problem with the proprietor. Her father’s old friend would be more than happy taking care of the black until someone came for him.
She hated lying, but no one needed to know her plans, not yet.
Soon enough, she’d be Mis’ess Caleb Wheeler, and then there wouldn’t be one thing anybody could do about it.
That’s when she’d be free to share, and not before. Praise the Lord that He arranged her Daddy going off to Europe at the exact perfect time.
A part of her hated doing things this way, but he would never have agreed. And she could never have snuck off with him there either. Yes, sir, everything worked out just fine.
She couldn’t wait to get to Jefferson!
Caleb looked around the hotel room. All of his cousin’s things were packed in her bag. He extended his hand.
Lanelle took it. “Thank you.”
He pulled her to her feet. “You best get on gone. Your flatboat’s liable to sail without you.”
Placing both hands on his chest, she pecked him on his lips. “Let’s just wait and see if Miss Priss is on the stage first. No need to get all hasty. I may be able to ride the steamboat with you after all.”
“Mary will be here, just like we planned.”
She kissed him again, this time with more passion. “You don’t know for sure. A thousand things could happen.”
“I do know.”
“How?”
“She loves me. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when I told her I’d come back in two years to marry her if she’d wait for me.”
She backed away and glared. “Do you love that girl?”
“Some.” He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“And how’s your devious plan going to work if she couldn’t get to her money, huh?”
“Then she can’t go. Plain and simple, but she’ll have it. Don’t you worry. All one hundred beautiful, bright, and shiny gold coins.”
“And when are you going to tell her that I’m coming along, too?”
He smiled. “Not until after we’re married. Sometime between here and New Orleans, I figured I’ll mention we’re meeting up with you and my whiskey barrels.”
“I still can’t believe you’re marrying the snotty princess. Ask me, she’s way too blue at the mizen.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand why you think marriage is so necessary.”
“Lanelle.…”
“We should just forget about her once we have the money. That’s all we need to…”
He put a finger on her mouth. “No, we need Mary’s compliance; we need her in California, and there’s no way she’d ever make the trip with me, without wearing my name. Quit fretting over it. John swears we can sell about anything a miner needs for five, six times what it’s going for here. We’re going to be rich.”
“Sometimes my brother stretches the truth a little.”
“Sometimes a lot, but I’ve read the news reports coming out of California; and that part’s true. There’s so much gold, the miners have gone plum crazy.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Lanelle.”
She leaned back. “More than Miss Priss Buckmeyer?”
“Of course. I’ve loved you forever.”
She glanced at the ruffled hotel bed. “Show me.”
Even with the unexpected delay, he had his cousin and his three oak barrels on the flatboat an hour before The Belle came skidding to a stop. He waited for the dust cloud to settle then walked to the door.
His intended stepped out first with a saddlebag—both sides stuffed full—draped over her shoulder. She fell into his arms.
He kissed her gently and lifted her load. Excellent, plenty heavy. He blew out the stale air of doubt from his lungs, then hugged her tight and planted a real one on her soft full lips. “I love you, Mary Buckmeyer.”
“I love you more, Caleb Wheeler. When do I get my new name?”
“Everything is in place. The judge has set aside four o’clock this afternoon for us. The steamboat leaves mid-morning.” He smiled.
She clasped her hands together under her chin and squealed. “Ooooo, bless God! It’s all working out exactly like you said.” She nodded toward the bag over his shoulder. “All there, didn’t have one ounce of trouble.”
“That’s excellent.”
“Take care of it for me.” She grinned. “I’ve got some shopping to do.”
He shrugged the shoulder burdened with the hand-tooled, extra soft leather pouches. “Need any of these little darlings?”
“No. That’s our seed.” She grinned. “Where’s our hotel?”
He took her hand and led her down the sidewalk to the oversized doub
le doors then nodded inside. “We have room twenty-two, second floor, third door on the right.”
She held out her hand.
“What?”
“The key, silly, and don’t you dare come peek, I’ll see you –” Stopping mid-sentence, she looked around. “Where’s the judge?”
He stepped off the boardwalk. She followed. He pointed up the street to where the courthouse’s spiral rose above the sawed board buildings and trees that lined the extra wide dirt road. “His chambers are right on the ground floor, can’t miss him.”
“I’ll see you there at three-forty-five, don’t be late.”
He laughed. “I was about to say the same thing, but don’t you worry your pretty head about me, I’ll be there early with bells on.”
“Good.” She kissed him again then put both hands on his chest and pushed. “Oh, have you got another key?”
“I do.”
She winked. “You practicing? Because I do, too.” With a nod toward the saddle bags, she pouted. “Mind laying out what little I brought in the room, please, kind sir?”
“Of course not.”
“Thank you, then make yourself scarce, and I’ll see you at the courthouse!”
Mary watched as Caleb walked into the hotel’s lobby. A twinge nicked her heart, maybe she shouldn’t have let him watch over the gold coins, but those bags were getting heavy, and well, wasn’t like he was after her money.
Had plenty of his own. Adding her savings to his had been her idea—after all.
Mercy, she’d known him forever, back when she was a little kid and him a big boy who didn’t even know or care that she existed. Still, she’d set her bonnet for him ever since.
And besides, by half past four, hers would be his, and his would be hers, and it all would be theirs, together, sharing everything forever.
Hey, she made a poem. She repeated her little impromptu rhyme, heading off down the street.
Unlike her big sister Rebecca, who had too many suitors to count before she finally chose and married Wallace Rusk, Mary had never even smiled at another boy. And now, in just a few hours, her dreams would be coming true.
Mis’ess Caleb Warner Wheeler.
Mary Wheeler, she liked the sound of that. Lots cuter than Mary Rachel Buckmeyer. A new name and a new life. She hugged herself then turned her attention to finding herself the right dress, and anything else a bride would need.
She kind of sort of wished she’d confided in her best friend, Sarah. It’d be fun having her there to share the excitement. But she dared not tell anyone, and she could do it alone. She had Caleb.
The next morning, while she sipped coffee in the hotel’s dining room, a shadow fell over her heart.
Her wedding fell somewhat short, not exactly what she’d envisioned since a little girl. But the ceremony didn’t matter, nor the first awkward night. All that…nothing more than temporary.
What truly held any significance, she’d have for life—his name—Mis’ess Caleb Wheeler. And her love would carry her away on a grand adventure to California by way of New Orleans.
She’d heard so many stories about that town, she could hardly wait to get there and see it for herself. And she had all that buying to do, wouldn’t that be so much fun. The horse trader in her pawed the air and whinnied real loud.
She hated that the judge’s clerk served as her only witness, but being married—that’s what was important.
Who needed a big party with all her family and friends there to celebrate with her and shower her and her new husband with gifts? Her Daddy to give her away? Her new mother, the famous novelist, to give her advice? Not her.
Caleb patted her hand. “What’s wrong, Sweetness?”
She looked at him and smiled. “Nothing, just thinking I needed to get word to Daddy.”
“Want to write him a letter? Jefferson has a post office.”
“No, I was thinking once we reach New Orleans, I’d wire him a telegram.”
“How could you? Where would you send it to?”
Chapter Two
“New York, to Mama May’s publisher. I’ve got the address.”
Caleb leaned back, exhaled, then smiled. New York was on the other side of the country. “I thought they had already sailed.”
“No, they were going to see her old home in North Carolina. Sea Side she called it, then spend a few days at her new house on Park Avenue. They don’t leave for another two weeks.”
“Good, that’s great. We’ll be in New Orleans in five days, and…” He shrugged, not enough time for him to get word to Levi Baylor. Last thing Caleb needed would be for the Texas Rangers to come after their little Mary Rachel.
“And what?”
“Well, don’t tell them exactly where we’re going yet. Let’s make sure we want to stay in San Francisco, then you can write them. Maybe they can come visit us in California after they get back.”
She nodded, then matched his smile. “Just now, I saw a bit of fear, didn’t I, husband of mine?”
“No.” Could she really read him so easy? “Well, maybe a little bit. After all, your brother and brother-in-law are two famous Rangers. If your daddy were to sic Levi Baylor and Wallace Rusk on me.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“If he did, I wouldn’t have a prayer of keeping you. Not a chance.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Yes, but you’re family now. We’re married, sweetheart.”
“Yes, we are, and I love you, Baby.”
“I love you too, Caleb. Now when does our ship sail?”
He drained the last of his coffee then stood. “Not for another three hours.” He nodded upstairs. “Want to catch a quick nap?”
Well, that was cute, but she really didn’t. Except…a married woman should… Maybe… She let that thought drift away. Why couldn’t Rebecca or Rose or even May been here? Sure would be nice to see how it had been with them the first time.
Mercy, Lord, help me.
The five-day trip to New Orleans proved fun. Well, the days did anyway, then the last evening over a real nice steak, Caleb dropped his napkin on his plate, interlocked his fingers, and rested them on his belly. Looked rather distinguished.
“Hopefully, Lanelle will have some good news for us.”
“Your cousin Lanelle?”
“Yes, ma’am. She rode with our whiskey, to keep it safe. Didn’t trust it to that flatboat captain or his crew, so she volunteered to go with it. Besides, she –”
“But what was she doing in Jefferson?”
“She’s going with us, to see her brother. Didn’t I tell you?”
“No, sir, you sure did not. And what whiskey? We don’t have any hard liquor, do we?”
“Sure, we do. I’ve been cooking it forever. That’s the number one thing John said to bring. Rotgut is going for a dollar a shot. A shot! I’ve been cooking some mighty fine corn squeezing.”
“Cooking it?”
“The liquor! We’ve got three big barrels of it. Can you imagine how many shots are in one barrel?”
“Uh, no. I have no idea.” She stared at him. Why hadn’t he told her all this? She swallowed, and it slid down her throat and turned into a rock in the bottom of her stomach. “So you’ve been making hard liquor, and failed to mention it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Figured you knew. Your daddy’s been buying from me for a while now. What do you think he puts in those hot toddies he and your new mother go to bed on every night?”
“Mama hated liquor, called it the devil’s brew.”
“Have you ever even had a taste?”
She shook her head. “No, never.”
He stood and extended his hand. “Well, dear wife of mine, let’s remedy that right this minute.”
She let him pull her to her feet. Didn’t know about this, but he was her husband. And her mama didn’t live on this old world anymore. God rest her soul. And if Daddy drank it every night with May, what would a little taste hurt?
Wasn’t like she would get drunk or anything
. “You don’t get drunk from a taste, do you?”
Bursting out laughing, he placed her hand on the crook of his arm. “No, my precious, sheltered little wife, you definitely do not.” He stopped at the bar, bought a small bottle of brandy.
What that was exactly, she had no idea, but had he really given the man behind the counter two dollars silver? That was outrageous for one little bottle. “I thought you said you make your own?”
He patted her hand. “Brandy comes from wine. You wouldn’t believe how good it is. Now, the stuff I brew kicks a lot harder, but isn’t as tasty. We’ll go easy this first time.”
Tastes ‘good’? Much too weak a word.
She loved the stuff. Never in all her life had she floated two feet off the ground or danced like she did, totally shameless with her husband. But that’s how it was supposed to be, right?
She loved love, and she loved brandy. Both of them sure were grandy. Hey! She’d made another poem. Maybe she should write them down. Could be she’d make a great writer, maybe even better than May.
She hiccoughed, covered her mouth with the tips of one hand’s fingers.
Probably even better.
Someone kept ringing a bell. She hated the clanging in her sore ears, and worse, the ache behind her eyes. Where was Caleb? “Caleb? Make it stop. Please make it stop.”
For a second the ringing stopped. Before she could appreciate that enough, the steam whistle cut straightaway through her being. She yanked the pillow over her head then grabbed his, too, but the thing wouldn’t stop.
Man, she’d never been thirstier. She rolled out of bed and wobbled to the water closet. Her mouth felt like cotton. After a flush, she poured herself a glass of water.
Mercy, what was wrong with her?
Was she having morning sickness?
Could she get pregnant that quick?
Wow, she didn’t think so.
She guzzled the entire glass of water down, stumbled back to the bed, then curled up in it. Maybe if she lay real still. The cold water helped some, but not much. She needed coffee. Better yet, she needed her husband.
