Pony Express Christmas Bride

by Rhonda Gibson

  His fingers moved to the scar. The caregivers at the orphanage had said he’d been dropped off on the doorstep with no identification and the wound on his small face. How was it that a baby of a few months could get such a gash?

  Rebecca Young said that the scar was hardly visible, but Thomas knew it was there. He could feel the light groove with his fingertips. Earlier, Thomas had sensed Josephine’s gaze on it and he figured that she thought the scar was revolting. She’d shivered just looking at him.

  Thomas knew he’d marry Josephine and stay married to her for as long as she wanted. But he vowed he’d never allow himself to believe that she’d care for him. With that thought in mind, Thomas headed for the house.

  The snow continued its slow, mesmerizing drift to the ground. In a couple of months Christmas would arrive, and from the looks of the weather right now, it might be a white Christmas. It was hard to believe that he’d spend the holidays as a married man.

  Thomas shook the snow off his collar. He stomped his feet on the porch to remove the packed slush from his boots. The question tore through him again. Was he out of his mind agreeing to marry a total stranger?

  What would it be like to spend every day with someone other than Philip, especially a female? Would she expect him to be at her beck and call?

  He opened the door and entered the warmth of the cabin. It really was more of a shack, but he and Philip had gladly called the place home. Now he wondered if it would be good enough for Josephine. Would she hate it? Think it ugly? Would she soon be demanding they get a place of their own?

  Philip turned from the stove. His eyes danced. “Sorry I sprung her on you like that. I meant to talk to you about her before she arrived,” he said, dishing up a plate of Hazel’s stew and fresh bread.

  Thomas took his gloves off and stuffed them into his pocket. He calmly hung his coat on the nail by the door. His hat was last to come off. “Philip, you have done some stupid things, but this takes the cake.” He turned to face his brother. “What were you thinking?”

  Philip placed a second plate of food on the table. “Well, at the time I simply thought you needed someone to be here with you when I’m off riding the trail.”

  “Why? Do I seem like the sort who needs constant companionship?” Thomas pulled a chair out and sat down.

  Philip added a plate of sliced bread to the table, then turned for the coffeepot and two cups. “Hey, between the two of us, you are more sensitive. I get lonesome, so figured you did, too.” He sat down.

  Thomas bowed his head, said a quick prayer before speaking again to Philip. “Then why didn’t you get a bride for yourself instead of one for me?”

  “I’m not the marrying kind,” Philip said, then tucked into his dinner.

  Thomas laughed bitterly. “And I am?” Didn’t his brother realize that of the two of them, he, Thomas, was the less likely to have a woman fall in love with him? After all, he was scarred both inside and out.

  Chapter Three

  The next day, after taking care of the morning chores, Thomas made his way through the falling snow across the back pasture to Hazel’s farm and knocked on her door.

  The whole way over he’d prayed Josephine had changed her mind about getting married. Maybe Hazel had talked some sense into her. After all, would marrying him really keep her uncle at bay?

  “Good morning, Tom. What brings you out in this weather?” Hazel asked, stepping to the side to let him in.

  He took his hat off. “I just wanted to make sure you two were all right.”

  She shut the door. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  Thomas shrugged, then followed her to the warm kitchen. Josephine sat at the table cradling a coffee cup in her hands. Red curls framed her face; they looked damp, as if she’d just washed her hair. Wide brown eyes met his and he saw weariness in their depths. Or maybe it was just acceptance of the situation she found herself in.

  “Sit down. I’ll make you a cup of coffee,” Hazel said. She walked to the stove. “Would you like a warm biscuit with butter and honey?”

  He grinned in her direction. “I’d love one. You make the best biscuits around.” Thomas pulled out a chair and sat.

  In a soft voice Josephine asked, “Did you come to tell me you’ve changed your mind?” She stared into the cup instead of looking at him.

  This was his chance. He could say yes and she’d probably understand, but something in the way she sat and looked into the coffee stopped him. It was as if she expected him to back out. She tucked a curl behind her ear.

  If nothing else, Thomas Young was a man of his word. He straightened his shoulders and answered, “No, I just wanted to come by and see if Hazel would like for me to milk the cow this morning. It’s pretty cold out there.” He took the plate Hazel handed him.

  Hazel pulled on her work boots and grabbed her coat off the hook by the kitchen door. “Thanks, Tom, but I think I’ll run out and milk her. You kids probably have stuff to talk about.” Hazel hurried out the door, not giving him time to protest.

  Silence hung in the air between them. Thomas wasn’t sure what to say. He breathed a silent prayer for the right words. After he’d finished his biscuit, he asked, “What did Philip write to you about me?”

  Josephine rocked the cup back and forth in her hands. “Not much. Just that you lived in an isolated place, but that we could meet in Dove Creek and we’d get married there.”

  He picked up his own cup. “Well, before we get married, we should get to know one another.” Thomas set the cup down. “I’ll start. I was raised in an orphanage not far from here. My parents or someone dropped me off on the doorstep as an infant. I have no idea who my parents were or why they abandoned me like an old, torn-up shoe.” He heard the bitterness in his voice and pressed on. “When I was twelve, Rebecca and John Young came to adopt a boy. Philip and I had grown very close. They picked Philip, but he refused to go with them unless they took me, too.”

  Once more he stopped. Philip was his best friend, but that didn’t excuse what he’d done this time. “I know Philip did a stupid thing by luring you here, but he’s my brother and cares about me.” At her doubtful glance, he pressed on. “Anyway, Rebecca talked John into taking us both and they became the only parents I’ve ever known. Not only did they adopt Philip and me, but five other boys, and they had a little girl, Joy, so I have a big family.” He paused to see her reaction.

  She sat with her chin resting on her hands. “How did you end up out here in the middle of nowhere?” The softness of her voice and the way her eyes searched his sent a warm feeling through him.

  He grinned. “Before he died, John had talked to his friend who worked for the Pony Express and they’d decided that the Young farm would be a Pony Express home station and that we boys, all six of us, would be riders. Ben is the baby boy and too young to ride.” Thomas still missed his adoptive father. “After John died, Rebecca married Seth Armstrong, and Philip and I learned that the relay station manager here quit, so we took over for him. We both still ride for the Pony Express, too.”

  “How did you meet Hazel?” Josephine asked. Her brown eyes bored into his, and for a moment Thomas had the strange thought that he could lose himself in them if given the chance.

  He cleared his throat. “She came over the first day we arrived. Introduced herself as our neighbor and has been a friend ever since.” Thomas grinned.

  Josephine sipped at her coffee and nodded. “She’s treated me with nothing but kindness, also.” She traced the wood grain on the table, then looked back up. “I suppose it’s my turn now.”

  Thomas tipped his own cup and drank the lukewarm coffee, glad for the liquid that washed through his overly dry mouth. He waited as she scrunched up her face and gathered her thoughts.

  “My mother died when I was fourteen years old. My papa loved her dearly, and when she died, my un
cle said Papa couldn’t stand to look at me because I look just like her. About four years later, Papa left me in my uncle’s care and never came back.”

  She looked up at Thomas, and tears filled her brown gaze. “Uncle continued to take care of me, made sure I kept up my studies and that I was raised as a true lady, but last year Uncle started gambling.” She swallowed hard. Thomas noticed that she put her hands under the table. “Things in the house started disappearing—paintings, rugs, the good silver and china. At first he accused the hired help of stealing them. Then he fired them all using the excuse that they were thieves, but the truth was he could no longer afford to pay them. Then he blamed me. Out of money and ways to acquire enough money to pay his debts, Uncle noticed Mr. Grossman’s interest in me.”

  Thomas felt the need to gather her into his arms and protect her from the life she described. “You don’t have to continue, Josephine.”

  She nodded. “But I do. I want you to understand why I need you to marry me.” Josephine pulled her hands out from under the table. She clasped them together, but not before he saw the trembling. She continued, “Uncle explained that he owed Mr. Grossman more money than he could ever afford to repay. Mr. Grossman had threatened to have Uncle put in prison if I didn’t marry him. I asked for a month to prepare for the wedding. The next morning while reading the paper, I saw your ad—well, Philip’s ad—for a mail-order bride. I realized it was my means of escaping marriage to Mr. Grossman. He’s far older than me and has been married three other times, each time his young wife died suddenly and under suspicion. And each time he’s managed to escape the hangman’s noose. I know deep in my heart that I am not safe marrying the likes of him. I wrote to you, I mean Philip, and he wrote back saying he’d send money for my passage out here as soon as possible. But I couldn’t wait. My time was running out. So I cut off my hair, stole a pair of my uncle’s work pants and a shirt, and went to the Pony Express office to apply for a job.” She took a deep breath.

  “So you told them you were a boy?”

  Josephine shook her head. “No, I just asked if I could apply for the job. When the man asked my name, I told him it was Jo. He asked for a last name and I told him my name was just Jo.” Panic filled her eyes. “I couldn’t tell him my full first name or he would know I was a girl, and if I’d given the man a last name and if my uncle happened to ask him about me later, Uncle would know immediately where I’d gone.”

  Thomas searched her face. Didn’t she realize she had lied by omission of the truth? She’d led everyone who worked for the Pony Express to believe that she was a boy. That was the same as lying to them. He understood why she’d done it, but it was still deceitful.

  “After I got the job, I had to continue letting everyone think I was a boy. It was wrong, but I felt for my own safety I had to continue with the lie. I’ve asked the Lord to forgive me and I believe He has.” She looked at him, waiting for his response.

  Thomas didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t his place to judge her, and if she’d confessed to the Lord her wrongdoing, well, that was between her and her Maker. He nodded and saw relief wash over her face. “So you got here by being a rider for the Pony Express?”

  “I did.”

  Riding for the Pony Express was dangerous work. How had she managed to make the rides? Had she run into bandits or Indians?

  “I knew that if I could make it to Dove Creek, I’d find you and you’d save me from my uncle and Mr. Grossman.” Her hands trembled as she ran them through her curls.

  Thomas knew the danger she’d put herself in by coming to him. “I’m glad you made it here safely.” He also knew now, without a shadow of doubt, that he’d marry Josephine to keep her safe. “As soon as the snow clears, we’ll ride into Dove Creek and get married.”

  A smile trembled on her pink lips. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be a good wife. I can cook, clean and help out around the station.”

  The back door blew open and Hazel followed the cold wind inside. “Peaches sure was glad to see me this morning.” She held up a pail of fresh milk and shut the door.

  Thomas noted that her cheeks were red from being out in the wind. He should have gone to milk the cow and felt bad that the older woman had gone out in the cold to do it. He stood. “Hazel, I’m sorry. I should have done that for you.”

  “Nonsense. I’ve been milking Peaches for several years now, winter and summer.” She set the pail of milk on the counter and stood by the stove for warmth. “I trust you two had plenty of time for your talk.”

  Josephine nodded.

  Thomas answered, “We did.” He put his hat on his head. “Thank you for the coffee and grub, Hazel. I best be getting back to the station.” He turned to Josephine. “My run is tomorrow and Thursday. When I get back, hopefully the snow will have cleared enough to get to town. Stay with Hazel and stay inside. If your uncle is about, I don’t want him to see you before we get married.”

  Josephine frowned but nodded. She looked sad, dejected and weary. His heart went out to her. As he left the house, Thomas silently vowed to protect Josephine from her uncle and from Mr. Grossman.

  Realizing how much her emotions affected him, Thomas told himself that she might become his wife, but he’d never allow himself to fall in love with her.

  * * *

  Josephine watched him leave. “He really is a nice man, isn’t he?”

  “That he is,” Hazel answered. She rubbed her hands together over the stove. “You know, I’ve been wanting to make a quilt. Maybe you and I can piece the top together while we wait for his return.”

  Josephine nodded. “Is his word good?” Josephine felt a frown pull at her brow. She wanted to believe Thomas would keep his promise and marry her, but she worried that after a couple of days in the saddle with lots of time to think he’d change his mind.

  Hazel chuckled. “His word is good. Thomas will marry you, but I don’t know that he’ll trust you. You’ll have to earn that.”

  “Why wouldn’t he trust me?” Josephine asked.

  Hazel poured hot coffee into her cup. “Those boys don’t trust anyone very much. Probably because they were orphaned at an early age.”

  Josephine nodded. She’d been deserted by her father and the hurt still lingered. Truth be told, she didn’t trust easily, either. What kind of marriage would she and Thomas have? She’d promised to be a good wife. Could she uphold her promise?

  Josephine had no intention of falling in love and living happily ever after. Men couldn’t be trusted. They deserted, lied and thought of women as personal property.

  Nope, she wasn’t about to fall in love with her future husband or anyone else. No man would ever hold her heart. Thomas Young was a handsome man, but Josephine vowed not to let that sway her into trusting him.

  Chapter Four

  As the saying goes, Thomas felt as if he’d been ridden hard and put up wet. He had to admit the past two days had been grueling, but riding through the wet snow on an ice-packed trail wasn’t completely to blame for his weariness. Thankfully, his return ride had ended at the Pony Express home station in Dove Creek. The farm of Rebecca and Seth Armstrong, his adoptive mother and stepfather.

  Andrew Young slapped him on the back. “Welcome home, little brother.”

  “Thanks, Andrew.” His gaze moved to the house. Rebecca stood on the front porch and he smiled.

  “She’s been waiting all day for you.” Andrew gave Thomas a little shove. “Better not keep Ma waiting.”

  Thomas walked toward the front porch. He’d never had a mother until Rebecca took him in. She wasn’t that much older than him, but her wisdom and motherly love offered a comfort no other woman had ever filled. His boots thudded as he stepped up onto the porch. “Hello, Ma.”

  Rebecca wrapped him in a big hug. Excitement filled her voice and she said, “I’m so glad to see you.” She released him and
stood back to look up at him. “I’ve missed you.” Twin dimples and blue eyes smiled up at him.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Thomas knew his words rang true. He missed her easy smile and the light touch of her hand upon his face.

  Rebecca lowered her hand and then pulled him inside the house. “I wish Seth was here. He’s been worried about you and Philip, but unfortunately he and Clayton had to go into Dove Creek for supplies. When Philip passed through here the other day, he assured us you were fine, but parents want to see for themselves.”

  “Thomas!” his little sister, Joy, squealed as she ran to him.

  Thomas caught her in midair. He hugged Joy close. The sweet scent of vanilla filled his nostrils. “Hi, squirt!”

  Joy’s happiness at seeing him shone in her blue-green eyes. Thomas realized he’d stayed at the relay station too long. His family missed him and he missed them, too. He lowered Joy to the ground.

  His gaze moved to Fay Miller and Emma Jordan, who stood together by the kitchen door. They were as much a part of his family as his brothers and adoptive parents. Fay had moved in with Rebecca after his adoptive father John’s death to help out with their little sister, Joy. Emma Jordan was like a sister to him. She came to the family as a slave of one of the stage coach riders. Thanks to the stage being robbed, she and her owner had had to stay longer at the stop, and during that time, he and his adoptive brothers had helped Rebecca and Fay buy the young woman from her owner. Emma was immediately given her freedom papers and now lived with the family as a free woman.

  Fay smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, Thomas. Are you hungry?”

  Thomas yawned and nodded at the same time. “I’ll get him a plate, Fay.” Rebecca hooked her arm in his and walked to the kitchen.

  Fay patted his arm as he passed. “I believe your mother wants you to herself for a few minutes.” She grinned at Rebecca.