Mail Order Lorena

by Zina Abbott

  Lorena frowned as she considered Fancy’s words. In Arkansas, the issue of land ownership between the whites and the native people was resolved before she was born. She never considered that, with Kansas being a state, there were still tribes claiming part of the land as their own.

  ”Besides, when I go to Denver, I intend to take enough with me to set myself up well.” Fancy paused and gave Lorena a knowing look. “It would be nothing that you want, sugar, but I intend to become a madam of a high-price parlor house. It’s one way this fancy woman can control her own life and make plenty of money.” The expression of sorrow returned and her voice dropped until it was barely audible. “There never will be another Louis. When I get to Denver, I won’t depend on a man ever again, certainly not someone like Clyde.”

  ~o0o~

  Later that evening, after Lorena returned to her room, she pulled her curtains, lit the oil lamp, and pulled the newspapers from her pocket. She spread them, one at a time, on the small table in her room so she could read them. She enjoyed reading the news, especially since the war no longer dominated the headlines.

  The article about the new stage service she found of interest. Although she had traveled by coach with Timothy, the routes had all been south and east of Kansas City, Kansas. This new line bypassed Kansas City. It started at the eastern-most point of the Smoky Hill Trail in Atchison. As the article detailed the names of the stations along the trail, she discovered that Salina hosted one of them. Of course, being curtailed as she had been by Timothy, she was not as familiar with Salina outside of the businesses and one or two homes she could see from the windows of The Stockade Saloon. She tucked away in her memory the knowledge that if she could find the means to escape the predicament Timothy had dragged her into, she could travel away from Salina by stagecoach.

  The back of the Topeka paper contained advertisements. Feeling the fatigue of a busy day spent in physical labor she was no longer used to, she skimmed them with a promise to herself to go through them more carefully the following night. However, one of the advertisements caught her interest. A farmer from Shawnee County, Kansas, sought to begin a correspondence with a woman with the intent, if both parties decided it was agreeable, it would lead to marriage.

  Lorena blinked and reread the advertisement. She had never heard of such a thing. People advertised to buy or sell livestock, or to petition for the return of runaway slaves, but never did she recall someone advertising for a potential wife.

  She sat back in her chair and considered. In spite of the muddle she felt her brain falling into, she began to see the thinking behind it. News of gold strikes led to many men—usually young, often single—leaving behind their homes in the East to seek their fortune. In just the past several years, while many men had been killed or injured in the war, others had fled to the West to avoid the conflict. Since the war ended, even more men joined the westward exodus to start over. Many eventually sought wives.

  Her thoughts turned to what Fancy told her regarding Sabrina. She had yielded to family pressure and married a man she did not care for in order to help him homestead land. Evidently, to find her, he returned east and sought a wife from among people he knew. However, if a man could not leave his property, or chose not to travel home for a wife, seeking one through correspondence was another alternative. This might be my answer of how to escape Timothy. If I can find someone to legally marry me before he returns…

  She recalled Fancy’s declaration that she never wanted to depend on a man again. Lorena also did not want to depend on someone like Timothy ever again. Then again, when her father and Edward had been alive, depending on them had been painless. Her life then had been more like loving partnerships, each doing their part to serve each other and work toward common goals. Can I ever find a husband like that again?

  Lorena realized she dared not make a decision about how to find a prospective husband while fatigued. She needed to give careful consideration to everything that could go wrong. She folded her newspapers and tucked them in the bottom of her valise. I will revisit this advertisement and any others like it at a later time. She left the lamp burning while she stepped behind the privacy screen and prepared for bed.

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  Chapter 4

  ~o0o~

  Ellsworth B.O.D. Stagecoach Station, Kansas

  November 9, 1865

  E ustace watched both Jim and Tom, the other two stock tenders with whom he worked, one at a time be called into the main room of the Ellsworth station. Then when they exited, each wore a grin. Tom patted the waistline of his trousers where, Eustace guessed, he kept a money poke tucked inside out of sight. Must be payday. Don’t get your expectations up.

  Soon, it was Eustace’s turn to be called in. He sat on the bench across the trestle table from Isaac. Before him were two stacks of coins.

  Isaac Peterson, a man in his early fifties whom Eustace had found to be quite congenial and fair-minded, pointed to the shorter stack. “This is for the last twenty days of September.” He next pointed to the other. “This is for the month of October. As you can see, I talked them into paying you an extra dollar a month as head stock tender, although I’d prefer you not make an issue of it with the other two.”

  “I won’t, sir. So far, they seem pretty agreeable about following my directions on what we’ll do if the station should come under attack.”

  “They have been. We’re all a little nervous about that possibility. Usually, the division agent doesn’t hire a head tender for a home station with a manager. I convinced them, since you were given the added responsibility of protecting the station, you deserved it. He agreed.” Isaac ran his hand through his almost all-gray hair and grinned. “It seems you made quite an impression on the man. When I talked to him before coming out here, he was the one who told me of your knowledge of good horseflesh.”

  Eustace offered a smile. “I enjoyed meeting him. He ended up giving me a good price for my young stallion.” Which went a long way to providing for my plantation for the next year.

  Isaac nodded. “Either way, he agreed your experience and knowledge of equines was worth more than what we pay these young men fresh off the farm.”

  “I’m not as knowledgeable about mules, but I certainly know horses.”

  “Some differences exist, but not so many you can’t figure them out.” Isaac hunched his shoulders and leaned forward. “Eustace, I’m giving you the same advice I told the other two. It’s probably will be a great temptation to take that coin and spend it at the sutler’s shop there at the fort. I don’t know how those soldiers will feel about outsiders coming in, but the sutler will sell to anyone with money—especially hard coin. Unless you are dying for a drink, I’d tuck that coin away and not spend it, for the time being.”

  Eustace huffed a sardonic laugh. “I’m not sure I’m ready to drink with a bunch of Yankees, sir.”

  “Well, they’re Iowa boys, not hard-core Yankees from New England. But, I’ll allow, they are Union. They were here before the war ended, although I’ve heard tales that they might be replaced by another company soon. What I want to tell you is, this money came with the warning future payroll might come in the form of greenbacks.” Isaac paused and shook his head. “I know they claim the greenbacks are fully backed and spend the same as gold, but I’ll take hard coin over paper money any day.”

  “I agree, sir.” Confederate paper money is only worth being lit for kindling now. “I’ll probably stay at the station and keep an eye on things if Jim and Tom decide to have a night on the town.”

  Isaac grinned. “Night on the fort, you mean. I appreciate that. I figure, the only way to keep you men happy is to allow you to get away from this place for a few hours every week or so. I didn’t realize how confining it could be until I’d been here a few weeks, myself. Caroline is taking it better than I am. Of course, part of her thinking is that she feels safe from any Indian attack as long as she stays inside.”

 
As he considered, Eustace rubbed his chin. “Your point is well-taken about saving the coin, sir. My question is, since I have no desire to fraternize with the men at the fort, what would it cost me to ride the stagecoach to Salina? I figure I could ride out with Benny on a Friday, get there in the late afternoon, have a few hours to see the town, and come back the next day.”

  Isaac leaned back and studied Eustace. “That’s not a bad idea. As far as I’m concerned, if you take a weapon along so you can serve as extra protection for the coach, your ride won’t cost you anything.”

  Eustace nodded. “I don’t mind doing that.”

  “The more I think about it, the better I like it. I know the company feels the entire stretch between Atchison and here is pretty tame, but the two legs between here and Big Springs Station and from there to Salina are still pretty unsettled.” Isaac paused. “No offense, Eustace, but I’ve heard some tales that, now the war is over, there are those like some of Quantrill’s bunch who have not returned to their farms. Instead, they’ve been roaming the countryside, stealing like what took place during the war. I suspect men who have turned to that, come from both sides of the conflict. We could end up dealing with that in addition to the threat from the Indians—mostly Cheyenne or even Arapaho, now, from what I understand. The Army has the Comanche and Kiowa under treaty.”

  Eustace nodded. The guerrilla fighters turned road agents, that he had dealt with and understood. Fighting the Native Americans would be a new experience.

  “I’ll replace any ammunition you use, should you need to fire your weapon to defend a coach. As for when you go, not only can we not displace paying customers, but there is the weather to consider.”

  Eustace offered a one-sided grin. “There is that. This Georgian might have trouble getting used to the cold and blowing snow I understand you get out here. Then again, as long as the weather looks to stay mild enough for the coaches to run, the drivers might appreciate an extra person to help shovel out the wheels if they get stuck.” Eustace leaned forward and used one hand to sweep the coins into the other. “I’ll take your advice about holding onto the gold, at least for this month. We’ll see what next month brings.” I’ll need to pay some toward the taxes in the hope of keeping my land.

  During the war, many times on the march he wished to stay in one place with a roof over his head for a time. Now, day after day, he was trapped inside the sod brick walls of a fortified stagecoach station. The only times he spent outside its walls were to take one of the horses down to Oak Creek that ran past the station and into the Smoky Hill River in order to fill the water caskets which, in turn, they dumped into the water barrel for the station and the two troughs for the animals. He was ready to get away—even for a night or two a month—just to see something different.

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  Chapter 5

  ~o0o~

  Salina, Kansas

  March 2, 1866

  B efore she knocked on the door to Clyde’s office, Lorena inhaled deeply. She stepped back as he jerked it open and loomed his upper body toward her.

  Clyde studied her in silence for several seconds. “What do you want, Mrs. Mayfield? I’m rather busy right now.”

  Lorena gulped behind her smile. “May I come inside?” She hated the thought of entering his office alone with him, but she did not wish to discuss her business out in the hallway where Al behind the bar or the other women in the kitchen might overhear.

  Clyde looked her up and down, then he opened the door wider and stepped back. “Be my guest.” He walked over and sat behind a table with boxes stacked on top and underneath.

  Lorena stepped in and closed the door behind her. She felt as though she entered the lion’s den. Would God protect her the way he had Daniel? No, of course not. Not after Timothy… “I’ve come for my pay, Mr. Abernathy. Here.” She stepped over and handed him a sheet of paper. “This is a record of my daily hours worked and the weekly amount you and Mr. Mayfield agreed I would be paid for my labor. The amount you owe me from the date I last paid up to the end of February is in the last column.” She stepped back. “That is your copy.”

  Clyde raised an eyebrow. “My copy? You have another copy?”

  “Of course. However, once I receive my pay, I will sign off and date your copy, which will provide you with a receipt. I have no reason to cheat you, Mr. Abernathy.” I wish I could feel confident you do not intend to cheat me.

  Clyde tossed the paper on the desk. “I don’t have all of it right now. What do you need it for?”

  Lorena lifted her chin. “I do not need to account to you what I wish to do with my money, Mr. Abernathy. It is owed me. As for your claim that you do not have the funds, I find that difficult to believe. After talking with your other employees, I’ve learned you pay them once a week—every Monday.”

  “Employees?” Clyde laughed. “You mean Al and those whores? When and what I pay them is none of your concern, Mrs. Mayfield. Besides, this isn’t Monday.”

  Instinctively, Lorena stepped forward and snatched the paper from the desk. “Then, I will wait until Monday, Mr. Abernathy.” She quickly folded it twice and stuffed it in her pocket. “You saw the amount owed me to the end of February. I will expect it at the same time you pay the others.” She turned to leave the room.

  Clyde rose from his chair and rounded the table. He grabbed her arm just as she reached for the doorknob. “Don’t try to get uppity with me, Mrs. Mayfield. I made that arrangement with Timothy Mayfield, not you.”

  “In my presence, Mr. Abernathy. Nothing was said about you holding the funds for Mr. Mayfield’s return. Those funds were intended for me—for the purchase of incidentals I might need.”

  “I told him I would look out for you while he was gone. As far as I’m concerned, that includes the money you earn.” Clyde pulled her closer. “Listen to me, Mrs. Mayfield, if that is what your name is. Timothy told me you two are not married. Now, if you do not want that tidbit to get around…”

  As her body began to tremble, Lorena felt the blood drain from her face. Why did I think Timothy was honorable enough to keep his word about not disclosing we are not legally married? She forced a smile. “I would prefer it not get around, Mr. Abernathy, but whether or not it does, matters not to me. If my brother-in-law did not care to maintain the appearance of respectability, I will not allow you to use the threat of exposure to cheat me.”

  Clyde, his brow wrinkled, leaned back. “Your brother-in-law?”

  “When he stated he is Mr. Mayfield and I am Mrs. Mayfield, he spoke the truth. I am his brother’s widow.” How thick are these walls? Who is listening?

  “Brother’s widow…but you two were living as…”

  “Our living arrangements are none of your concern, Mr. Abernathy. What is pertinent is that I am a widow. As such, I am recognized as a legal entity in and of myself, able to conduct my own business without being beholden to any man in any state of this nation. In addition, I understand that when Kansas became a state at the start of the war, as part of their constitution, they granted women many rights not enjoyed elsewhere. One of them is that a married woman is entitled to receive and spend her own wages as she sees fit. So, you see, Mr. Abernathy, whether you prefer to consider me married or a widow, it makes no difference regarding my pay. You have no legal right to hold back my earnings on the pretext you are safeguarding them for Timothy. I expect to get my money or else I…” Lorena jumped in response to the loud knock on the door behind her.

  A snarl in his voice, Clyde leaned around her. “Who is it? I’m busy.”

  “It’s me, sugar. I thought I heard Mrs. Mayfield’s voice in there. Will you two be finished soon? She promised to go shopping with me, and we need to get going if I’m to get back here in time for work.”

  Clyde pulled Lorena to the side and released her arm as he opened the door.

  Fancy stood on the other side of the doorjamb. She wore a conservative, dark blue wool skirt beneath her g
ray cape and a blue bonnet that matched.

  “What are you thinking, Fancy? It’s Friday. You don’t have time for shopping. Go another day.”

  “I know it’s a busy day, sugar. That’s why we need to leave now so I can get back.” Fancy stepped in the room and linked arms with Lorena. “I’m out of a few things I need for tonight. You want me to look my best so I can keep my customers happy, don’t you, sugar?” She reached up her free hand and ran the side of her index finger along his jaw.

  Clyde jerked his head back. “Don’t try your whore tricks on me, Fancy.” He huffed out a breath. “All right, you two get out of here and do your shopping. Don’t take too long, though.”

  Fancy turned her head to speak over her shoulder as she pulled Lorena out of the room. “We’ll be back in the flutter of a hummingbird’s wing, sugar.”

  As soon as the door slammed shut behind them, Lorena turned to Fancy. “Thank you, Fancy. I asked him to pay me what he owes for the work I’ve done, and I’m afraid he didn’t take it well.”

  “I heard.” Fancy quickened her pace as she pulled Lorena toward the stairs. “I don’t know what you have planned, sugar, but you go up long enough to grab your bonnet and cloak and get back down here. We’re going into town.”

  Realizing the woman had risked Clyde’s ire to rescue her, Lorena hurried to do Fancy’s bidding. The two exited the back door and turned to walk down the alley toward the side street where they turned to the left. Once they walked to the street behind the saloon, they slowed their pace.