Brides of the West-Part One

by Hestand, Rita

  "Minor details can be taken care of…"

  "You're crazy!" She screeched standing and staring at him as though he'd lost his mind. She started to leave. "I don't even know you, sir. I don't even know your name. Or if you are a Christian."

  "My name is Cole, Cole Morgan. You want to go west?" He asked not even bothering to look at her now.

  "Of course I do." She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  "Then…we'll have a ceremony, and you can go. That's all there is to it." He shrugged. "And as far as being Christian, I know of very few whores that are."

  This time the color increased in her cheeks.

  God, she's beautiful when she blushes like that!

  "A ceremony. Do you think I’m mad? I'm not so desperate I'd marry the likes of you." She faced him now with her indignation.

  "The likes of me?" He jerked his head up and stared at her. "The likes of me can take you west, lady. Look, I don't allow unmarried women on a train because they often time cause trouble among the men. Now, granted, you don't have to marry me, but it's the only way you are gonna be allowed on my train. Unless you can come up with a suitable husband by tomorrow. In that case I'd require a marriage certificate. It's as simple as that. I'm offering you a way to go that's all."

  She blew the sprig of hair from her face and huffed.

  "I never heard of such!" She protested. "Why would you marry a stranger?"

  "I need a cook. It's as simple as that."

  When she gasped, he shook his head with a crooked kind of smile. "Lady, you look healthy, and you sound smart, but this trip is no picnic. It's hard for any woman. You'll face severe weather that you will have to brave to push on. You'll face possible diseases, you'll face probable Indians, and for sure an outlaw or two. The wagons will break down. You'll end up throwing half of what you own away so you can get over the mountains. And that's not all. That's a few of the hazards. Now do you still want to go?"

  "Of course I do. I didn't figure it was going to be a picnic."

  "Alright." He glanced from her head to her toe, clearing his throat at her reaction. "Look, we just go to a justice of the peace and have a ceremony, that's all. Once you are established on the train as a married woman, there will be no trouble. And I am not proposing anything other than the ceremony. Just so you know. Not that you aren't a handsome woman, but I'm not the marrying kind and you might as well know it." He said finally glancing at her. His glance slid up and down her slowly. "I'm not in the market for a wife, any more than you are for a husband."

  "I see." She firmed her lips and put her hands on her hips again. She stood rock still, obviously soaking his offer in. He wondered just how desperate she was to get away. He'd bet his life she wasn't a whore though.

  "Then I wouldn't have to…" She didn't finish.

  "No ma'am, you wouldn't." He finished that sentence for her. He knew where her mind was going with that. Mainly because his had already been there.

  "But why would you do such a thing for me?" Her voice lowered, disbelieving.

  He stood up and came from around the small desk he had made. "It would benefit me also to be married. A wagon master is sometimes viewed as a hero and young women on the train, daughters sometimes get it in their heads that they want to get married. All kinds of havoc are raised. This creates a conflict on a train. I have to direct my attention to the train as a whole. Not that I'm that good a catch, but that I am a catch at all. And you would be protected from the letches of men who want the same from you. A mutual benefit. That's all."

  She sat down once more in the makeshift chair and stared at him for a moment. Her eyes became wide as saucers and a slight smile broke over her face. "That's an ingenious idea." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I underestimated you."

  He laughed aloud. "You're not the first. You're desperate to go west, I'm desperate not to be caught in some compromising position along the way. This way fewer problems for both of us. I'm just surprised it took me so long to figure that out. Ten trips I've made out west and every one of them filled with some discord over a lady, usually by her mother."

  "One question." She studied his face for a moment.

  "Yes ma'am?"

  "Do you always marry the young women who want to go west that aren't already married?"

  His eyes narrowed on her. "No ma'am. I don't. But like I said, I figure it will have mutual benefits for us both."

  "There's only one problem with this situation."

  "Which is?" He challenged.

  "What happens when we get to Oregon. Do we go our own ways and seek a divorce or what?" She asked.

  "How old are you?" He asked, not answering her question.

  She turned bright red and he knew he'd struck some chord in her.

  "I'm twenty-six."

  He realized quickly the admission had come hard for her, but she had swallowed her pride. He admired a person who could swallow their pride.

  "At least you're no kid. Nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you. Just for your information, I'm thirty. You won't be compromised by me. And when we reach our destination, I will leave you, and you can do as you wish. Basically, we will be protecting each other from unwanted advances. That's all."

  "Except I'm expected to cook for your crew of men." She seemed to think about his offer, seriously.

  "Yes ma'am, it comes with the territory. If I had a wife, she'd be the one to cook for them and me. My men would expect it."

  Her warm brown eyes met his. "Can I have all this in writing?"

  "If there's a real need for it." He nodded with a frown.

  "Well, of course, there is. If you leave, I have no way of finding you for a divorce. Yes, I want it in writing. And yes, you have a deal."

  She stuck out her hand, to shake his. He looked at it and instead, he reached to pull her up against him.

  Taken by surprise, her mouth came open, but she said nothing, only stared. His head bent and he captured the softness of her lips in one swoop. He hadn't meant to do anything but put her in her place, but he hadn't expected her to kiss him back. She smelled sweet, like flowers, and her hair was sinfully long and curly, the kind a man liked to run his hands through. For only a moment, he was lost, but when sanity prevailed, he pushed her away, gently.

  "To seal our bargain, and now we are not so much strangers. It would be unseemly to be married and know nothing of each other. And to what name do I address my intended?" He asked, cooling himself from the onslaught of her kiss.

  "My name is Emily Carrington." She raised her head in defiance. He saw that stubborn pride of hers reassert itself and he almost laughed.

  "Of the Carrington Shipping yards from New York." He asked knowing it shocked her that he knew of her family.

  "That's right. You've heard of us?" Her disbelief was showing in her voice. "Are you revoking your offer?"

  "On the contrary, I guess that proves I have good taste in women, doesn't it? I knew from the moment I saw you that you, madam were not a whore. You interest me. Why have you ventured here to Missouri?"

  "Let's just say I have family problems and want to escape them. Now one thing I wish to ask you, and it's not personal, but I must know. Are you a Christian man?"

  Cole hadn't expected that question. His head flew up from his paperwork and he glared at her. "I do take that as personal. But…I suppose coming from a woman, it is a decent question. Yes, I believe in God, if that's what you mean. If I didn't, I wouldn't be taking this many people through such hazardous territory. Does that answer your question?"

  "Good. I couldn't marry you if you didn't."

  His head popped up again to stare at her. "It's that important to you?"

  "Yes, for one, it speaks of the character. Let's just say there are certain things a Christian man would not do."

  He nodded slowly, digesting that for a moment.

  "Do you go around proposing to women on such a whim, before you even know their names?" She asked her cheeks still rosy from the unexpected kiss.

 
; "No ma'am. I've never proposed to a woman in my life. But let's set the record straight right here. This isn't a proposal, it's a proposition. Understood?"

  She nodded.

  "I don't believe in divorce, but this is not a usual circumstance, you will understand. We'd be helping each other out. In all circumstances, I would expect you to acknowledge that I am your husband. I would accept you as my wife. And proudly."

  "Proudly?" Her head twisted once more in question.

  "Yes ma'am. Even though I'm on the rough side most of the time. You got a quality about you that is unmistakable. And I say that, not because of the name. I recognized that in you right away. Let me assure you, I will not take privileges you don't allow. And we won't have time for such frivolities as that on a wagon train. There is very little privacy. I wonder though. Do you have any idea what you are letting yourself in for?" He had to get the upper hand fast to this situation. She had to understand this was not a permanent arrangement.

  "I think I do, sir. I see…then if this is the only way I can get out of here, I'll take it. Of course, I know it will be rough. I would expect it to be, at least." She nodded and walked to the entrance of the tent. "And I have your word that as a Christian and a gentleman, you won't take the advantage of me?"

  "You must need to leave awfully bad." He shook his head and smiled. When she didn't return the smile, he added. "But you have my word. I'm not in the habit of taking a woman that doesn't want to be taken. From that kiss, I can tell you are not a whore. But you are a lady, of that I am sure. And if I didn't know that, I wouldn't be marrying you. I wouldn't be explaining all of this either. So…meet me at Judge Chesterfield's office at eight in the morning. We'll have the ceremony."

  "Alright…" she barely murmured and started to leave again. She paused on the way out. "What was wrong with the kiss?"

  "Wrong? You may be a spinster, but beneath that façade lies a passionate woman, with the heart of a real woman."

  She shot him a puzzled look.

  "You're a damn good kisser, ma'am." He cleared his throat.

  Emily stood paralyzed to the dirt floor. Her cheeks blossomed and he stared at her for a long moment. "And you blush like a flower in the spring…" he added.

  His words had some sort of effect on her, as her mouth hung open. She turned to go abruptly. "And Emily…" He murmured softly.

  "Yes…" She looked over her shoulder.

  "You could never be just a whore…"

  "What tipped you off?" She stammered.

  "A whore doesn't kiss like that…" He smiled.

  "Like what?" She crimsoned.

  "Like she means it." His smile widened, she blushed and left with her mouth open once more.

  Chapter Two

  The streets were muddy and the rain drizzled miserably. It was mid-April and it had rained off and on for two weeks. Tents were lined up as far as the eye could see. Stores to accommodate the pioneers going west were eager for their business. Blacksmith's shops hummed with the making and repairing of wagon wheels. Linseed Oil permeated the air as canvas for the tops of the wagons were treated with it so the rain couldn't get in.

  People were everywhere, going about their business of preparing for a long trip.

  Furniture was strewn all over the streets as the wagons were packed. Huge sacks of flour, salt, sugar and beans were packed high. The wagons seemed to grow with each new addition.

  Emily was amazed at how the people worked to get things ready while it rained.

  There had to be ten wagon trains in line to move out.

  There were mud holes everywhere in the streets. Emily hadn't taken care to wear something appropriate for such an occasion, big mistake, she chided herself as she stepped into another mud puddle and again her dress was splashed. She glanced down at the hem of her white dress, it was lined with mud. Her white boots were now brown. She groaned inwardly. Her hair was a mess, as the rain trickled down her neck and plastered her hair against her, she groaned. When she left her hotel room, she had looked so lovely. But now…

  It was muggy hot and miserable. The air smelled of fresh dirt.

  Could this be a more miserable day?

  Her mind flittered to the man she was about to marry, Cole Morgan. She remembered the kiss, and how he manipulated her during that moment. It had shocked her, but for nothing would she let him know it. If she weren't so desperate to get out of this town, she might have slapped his face.

  She'd never been kissed quite like that before. Taken by surprise she had responded more than she cared to admit. The man certainly knew how to kiss a woman. She could rightly say she'd never been kissed so thoroughly in her life. But he didn't know that.

  Upon reflection, she remembered her heart thundering as he kissed her. She remembered how passionate she had responded and she blushed just thinking about it. She'd never behaved that way in her life.

  It was just a kiss. But she had to admit, for six years she'd been engaged to Robert and she'd never, not once, kissed him like that.

  She hurried through the throngs of people preparing for the embarkment west. Some of the men stared at her as she tried to avoid all the mud holes in the street. She heard soft chuckles following her. The women looked sympathetic toward her.

  Her mind was full of the man she met yesterday. Impressive and strong, he didn't back down from a challenge, she liked that. She applauded his answer as being Christian, for not many men would admit to it. Marriage didn't scare him either. This was the man she would marry today.

  A slight tremble shot through her.

  Had she lost her mind? She didn't know this man, and he could easily take the advantage. He'd have every right to. But the way he had laid this marriage on the table, spoke volumes. He didn't want a wife any more than she did a husband. In that they were in agreement. He didn't mince his words, and despite her better judgment, she trusted him to an extent. Odd but she believed very few people in her life.

  She remembered all the men that had sold her trust to her Uncle.

  She had thought about Cole all night long. Despite the man's crude attitude and the squalor of the tent he used, he spoke almost like a poet. She mused at that. And he kissed like a man that knew many women.

  Why had she responded to his kiss? It puzzled her. Robert never impressed her with his attempts. But this man wasn't Robert. This was a man, a real man.

  There was a significant difference in the two, she made a note of that. She seriously doubted she'd be able to just walk all over Cole Morgan as quickly as she did Robert.

  Despite the fact that Cole wasn't overly tall, nor massively built. But he was strong and determined. She remembered the strength in his arms as he held her captive. He was a real man, and she knew it. She suddenly realized just how deep she might have fallen into his trap.

  Surrounded by men who dressed impeccably, always used their manners and wouldn't be caught dead on a horse, Cole Morgan stood out in her mind as exemplary.

  She thought briefly of Robert Culbertson, the man she was to marry. Why had she dredged him up? Robert was the man her Uncle insisted she should marry six years ago, mainly because he was so eager to do better. So Emily became engaged. For six years he had wooed her with songs, with poetry and with annoying moments of his dreams to expand the Carrington Shipyards. He spoke of the Shipyards like they were a child to be raised right and by his standards. He'd been her Uncle's bookkeeper, but he aspired to much more. Emily had not been fooled. He was not in love with her, he wanted more position with Carrington's. More money. He wanted a reputable reputation. Many men did. Just a month ago her Uncle insisted they be married that the engagement had lasted long enough. But in defiance Emily took Robert's ring and threw it out the window, packed her bags and set about finding a way out of town that her Uncle might never expect. She was in a fix if she didn't marry Robert, her Uncle might make her leave anyway. She knew exactly how he would do it too. She'd be cast from his home, no longer welcome, she'd be disinherited from the Carrington fortune, som
ehow. She'd have nothing. And if she had to leave, she'd do it on her own.

  Emily smiled about that. She had done it. All on her own too. Leaving New York was harder for her, since she had many acquaintances. She had to be very careful that her friends didn't inform her Uncle. From St. Louis to Independence was an easy trip. She read about the many wagon trains leaving from Independence. And it was the one thing her Uncle would never expect of her.

  But with her she took Robert's secret. It bothered her that she could not expose him before she left, but that could wait. When she was safe, far away, she could let her Uncle know that Robert had embezzled quite a sum of Carrington money.

  When she had come across Morgan's wagon train leaving on the 'morrow, she had to find a way to go with them. Her Uncle would never look for her here. He'd never believe she would risk so much to be rid of him and Robert.

  She'd done it!

  But this trip was not going to be easy. To begin with, she didn’t know how to cook. But she was smart, and she knew she could learn. She could ride a horse, and she knew how to drive a team of horses, something her father had taught her when he used to haul freight. She'd only been ten, but he was proud of her, he'd said.

  What price would she pay for this trip? She didn't know anything about cooking. Yet, she was up to the challenge. How hard could it be?

  She pushed that thought away and hurried down the street.

  If her Uncle knew, he'd have her declared insane for marrying a complete stranger. That thought was no comfort.

  As she neared the office, she slowed her pace and straightened herself and her dignity. She could do this. She had to do this.

  With one piece of luggage on her arm and a small bag full of personal things, she gathered her courage for the ordeal in front of her. She was at last on her own, and she was determined to pull her weight. She'd learned to cook.

  Stranger things had been done before. At least she wasn't some mail-order-bride. And she could learn to cook, she hoped. But this was not a day to worry about cooking. This was her wedding day. And it certainly wasn't as she had often envisioned it.