[2015] Western Love

by Christian Michael

  Cora began to cry.

  “No, no, Cora, you may not cry. Not my strong and splendid Nurse Cora.” He swiped the wetness from her face, kissed one cheek and then the other.

  “Tell me yes now,” he whispered fiercely,” So I can kiss your beautiful mouth.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  And then she had to wait as shock and happiness battled across his face. He breathed a sigh just before his warm mouth touched hers.

  Epilogue

  Cora and Simon settled into the stage coach that would carry them most of the way to the Colorado territory. A piece of land awaited them, one adjoining Matthew’s ranch. The next year would be a busy one as Simon divided his time between building their home and editing the local newspaper.

  As they left St. Louis, Simon grasped Cora’s hands and smiled down at her. “You asked me once why I didn’t report on the war. Remember, it was that first night on the train?”

  She nodded, trying to concentrate on his words instead of his hands holding hers.

  “I had planned on reporting it,” he admitted quietly. “But I came downstairs one evening before supper and heard you talking with Hannah.”

  “Always an eavesdropper,” she teased.

  He smiled. ‘You said to her, ‘It’s the responsibility of every human being to fight for the rights of the wronged Negro.’ Right then and there, I knew I could not merely report on the war.”

  “Simon! I never meant you. Reporting would have been fighting, too. The power of the pen is every bit as strong as the gun.” She frowned and shook her head at him.” You foolish, foolish man.”

  Simon ducked his head. “Well I couldn’t let my favorite girl best me, could I? You were headed into the battlefields alongside your father. I felt driven to do my part.”

  At the mention of her father, Cora’s eyes watered. “I would have followed him anywhere,” she whispered.

  Simon squeezed her hands. His eyes were sad. “I never told you how sorry I was that Dr. Hammond died. He was a good man.”

  She nodded, her throat too thick with tears to speak. Her father would be happy with her decisions of late. She smiled. “I’ll follow you anywhere, too, Mr. O’Leary.”

  “You have some catching up to do, since I’ve already proven I’ll definitely follow you anywhere, Mrs. O’Leary.”

  THE END.

  A Widow’s Heart

  Mail Order Bride

  Christian Michael

  “Mrs. Carolina! How are you this fine morning?”

  “Just fine, Mr. Hawthorne. All is well with you, I trust?”

  “Fine, fine, just fine. Just out for a stroll. You take care, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir, I will.” And that was that. Carolina Hendricks suppressed a shudder of distaste as the large man walked past her. She could never quite put a finger on why the bank manager stirred up such loathsome feelings in her but she just couldn’t get past it. Whenever she went to the bank with her husband she swore she could feel Mr. Hawthorne’s eyes on her back – but when she looked for him, he was always busy doing some other thing.

  Shaking her head, Carolina continued her morning walk and let her mind float in memories. Hard to believe it’s only been three months. She had come a long way in such a short time. She had walked around in such a fog she barely remembered the events of January and the fire that had claimed John’s life. They had only been married for a little over a month at that point but they had known each other for a long time by then. A small smile played on her mouth as she reminisced over old times.

  Growing up, she lived just on the outskirts of Boston and times were tough. Papa had his hands full making ends meet on the ranch. When she was four, her mama had died on child bed and the babe had gone with her to their eternal Home. Papa never re-married and, as the only child, she was the apple of his eye.

  She was determined to become a teacher so she could help her papa. At sixteen, she was nearly done with her education and Ms. Benson, the current school ma’am and Carolina’s trainer, was eager to leave so she could get married. Carolina had no interest in marriage – at least not then anyway. While many of the girls she grew up with fussed over ribbons and dresses and made eyes at the young men, Carolina buried her nose in her school books from dawn till dusk.

  John was three years older than Carolina but they had always gone to school together as children. He would always get in trouble with the Madam for pulling Carolina’s hair.

  Carolina was briefly jolted from her musings when two children ran past her laughing while their mother shouted in vain for them to behave. The sight reminded her so much of what she had just been thinking about that she giggled to herself as she remembered how red John’s face would become whenever he was scolded. John had always been sweet on her but she never paid him any mind. All that changed though, one cold morning in her sixteenth year.

  She had arrived early at the schoolhouse, as was her custom, to light the fire in the old stove so that the room would be warm by the time classes began. It was the dead of winter in Boston so the snow had fallen heavy the night before and the schoolroom was about three miles from her home. Trudging through the snow and rain every winter and spring was hard work but the bite of the winter winds were harder to bare. She entered the school room shivering and struggled against the wind to close the door. Her effort came to an abrupt halt however when she went toppling over after John Hendricks shouldered the door open with a massive heave without realizing Carolina was on the other side.

  When he saw Carolina on the floor, he rushed to help her get back on her feet but apparently forgot he was carrying a stack of small logs for the stove. He reached out to help her up and ended up dropping a few logs on her feet at the same time. As she tried to keep in her howls of pain, John blushed profusely and mumbled apology after apology. But seeing John’s bumbling embarrassment was exactly the right medicine and her cries of pain soon turned into peals of laughter. Poor John! He thought she was poking fun at him.

  “Oh I am sorry John, I am not laughing at you” she said between breaths, “it’s just, oh I don’t even know why this is funny to me!”

  Her laughter was infectious and John felt his on lips tug up in a smile in response. “It’s alright Carry. I am sorry I didn’t realize you were behind that door. I thought I could beat you here and stock the wood for the stove and light it up for you. I noticed yesterday that the wood was nearly finished and it would not have lasted the entire day. I know you have your recital today before the school board and I didn’t want you to have to go chop wood too! You’re probably nervous enough as it is.”

  “Yes, I am very nervous, but I have trained and studied hard and Ms. Benson said she thinks I am ready. Oh! I do hope I do well. I’ve always only wanted to be a teacher and help Papa! – And how many times have I told you not to call me Carry?! It reminds me of canary!

  “Well see that’s where I got the idea,” John teased, “your hair is a bright gold and you sing to boot. You are a little canary Miss. Carry.”

  “I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me John and I am not going to give you that satisfaction. Now, are you going to help me with this stove or not?”

  As she restacked the scattered wood, Carolina couldn’t help but smile at John’s words. Truth to tell, she didn’t really mind the nickname – as long as it came from John. She didn’t know why, but it always gave her a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. That morning, as they worked together to get the room ready for classes, she realized she had butterflies in her stomach and found herself sneaking glances at John whenever she thought she could get away with it. My, but he is handsome. I wonder that I never really noticed it before. Focus Carolina! You want to be a teacher and help Papa, remember? Teachers can’t marry, remember? Don’t go thinking this way. You’ve worked too hard, you’ve sacrificed too much and you’ve come too far to be distracted by a pretty – okay, devilishly handsome – face. She forced herself to go over what she had studied to prepare herself fo
r the recital before the board later that day in an effort to distract herself.

  Once the long tables and benches had been arranged, the fire lit and the floor swept, John went over to Carolina once more. He loomed over her but she didn’t feel intimidated. If anything, she rather liked the twinkle in his deep brown eyes. As close as they were standing, she could see the smattering of freckles on his nose and was charmed by the dimple in his left cheek. She wondered that she never realized that his hair was a mix of deep auburn and brown streaked with blond. When he playfully tugged her hair, she was very aware of his masculine hands and she tuned into the timber of his voice when he murmured a good-bye before leaving.

  What is wrong with me?! Why am I feeling this way? I am becoming such a ninny! Snap out of it!

  She shook her head hard to get her mind back on the lessons for the day. She was in charge of teaching the classes today since, in addition to evaluating her knowledge during the recital portion of her evaluation, the Board would also be appraising her teaching skills. Thank goodness John no longer attended classes at the school! He had finished his education the year before and now worked at his grand-father’s saw mill. Old Mr. Hendricks was not getting any younger and was grooming John to take over the running of the mill so he could step down. John’s father was not a part of his life and John never knew his mother; dear dad had left John on Old Mr. Hendricks’ doorstep one morning when the boy was no more than five and no one had seen nor heard him since.

  “Caro-li-naaa! Hellooo?”

  Carolina was abruptly pulled out of her memories when some rude fingers waggled in front of her face. She forced herself to focus on the woman in front of her and felt a warm smile brighten her face when she saw Mary Ann, her best friend from childhood.

  “You were thinking about John again weren’t you?” Mary Ann guessed shrewdly “You always get so lost in your head whenever you do – and nothing else can put that look in your eyes.”

  Carolina sighed and grinned gamely, “You know me so well Mayna. Yes, I was thinking about him and the first time I really noticed him – you know, the day of the review when he dropped those logs on my feet? I was just thinking about how nervous I was and how relieved that he didn’t come to the recital that evening; I half expected him to be in crowd!”

  “Oh my word, you were such a ball of nervous energy! You almost passed out on me when you came over to borrow my hair ribbons. But you had no reason to be so jittery. You had all those books memorized like the back of your hand that even that old grinch –what’s his name? Do you remember? Oh whatever it was, even he was impressed.”

  “Mayna, honey, do you ever breathe when you talk?” Carolina teased as she nodded in agreement.

  “Come now Carry Canary. You know I don’t have time for breathing!” Mary Ann replied, “Time’s a-wasting!”

  “You know, normally I would be mad at you for calling me that but today, what with thinking about John and all, it makes me happy – and sad – to hear that again.”

  “I figured it would – happy I mean, not sad” Mary Ann said knowingly, “After all, we’ve been close as sisters for neigh on eighteen years now. My goodness I still can’t believe it’s been that long. Anyway though, how are you doing? Can I come calling on you later this evening? It’s been far too long since we’ve talked – not since the funeral I believe.”

  “Well I asked Doctor Callow to come over this evening – I have been feeling somewhat under the weather lately - rather nauseous. But you are still more than welcome to come over – as long as it is just you, mind, I don’t really feel up to entertaining.”

  “Sure, sure, I don’t mind that. And don’t you worry about entertaining me, I will bring over some pie and you provide the tea, how about that?”

  “Only if it’s blueberry!”

  Mayna smiled sympathetically, “You’re missing John, aren’t you? Blueberry was his favorite not yours.”

  Carolina shook her head sadly as her eyes misted, “Yes, I suppose I am. You know, I have been with him almost every day since he came to light that fire in the school room that morning. We became so close after that. I knew he loved me, he told me so soon after but he knew how important teaching was to me and he never pushed me to give it up to marry him even though he knew before I did that I loved him. Even after Papa died, my John waited until I was ready to move out of teaching before he even asked me to marry him. Hard to believe that was only last year. I never would have imagined that I would lose him after only one month of marriage! I mean, if it had been a disease or something, at least I would have been prepared for it, but a fire? I still feel lost. It was so sudden. Some days I just miss him so much. God has been my solace and my strength Mayna, that’s all I can say. He is the only reason I can even go on every day.”

  “I know dear, I know.” Mayna patted her friend’s hand softly and wrapped an arm around her narrow waist. “Honey, don’t cry. I miss him too. Come now, let’s get you home. You’re so strong, Carolina. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to my George! I wish I had your faith. I mean, I know God is real but he never seemed all that close, you know?”

  “Well God never really seemed very real to me either until I was all alone.” Carolina said between sniffles as she held back tears, “I remember at John’s funeral, the Preacher said, ‘God is close to the broken-hearted. All you need to do is reach out to him and he will comfort you.’ I tell you Mayna, I was just lost enough and desperate enough to try just that – and I am glad I did. I don’t remember much else about that night except that I was so bitter and so hurt and so overwhelmed, I just kind of screamed ‘God if you’re there then do something!’ And, I don’t know, it was as if some strange calm came over me and I felt like I could breathe again. That was it, nothing more than that but in that moment I knew God was real. That was the first time I was actually able to sleep since the fire.”

  They walked in silence after that, arm in arm with each other, each lost in their own thoughts. When they reached Mayna’s small home, they hugged and parted ways with Mayna promising to come over that evening.

  When she reached her house, Carolina sighed in relief. Finally, she could sit in her favorite chair and just relax. Her back had started aching at the most inopportune times of late and the only thing that relived the pain was propping her feet up. No sooner had she settled in to her chair when someone began clanging loudly on her door. Now who on earth could possibly be making such a ruckus? She opened her door to find Ben Williamson, the bank’s assistant manager, on her doorstep with another important looking man.

  “Yes, Mr. Williamson? How can I help you?” It took all of her patience to be polite to the men on her threshold. As much as she didn’t like Mr. Hawthorne, she absolutely loathed Mr. Williamson. The man was nothing more than a lecher. Every time she saw him she was reminded of a weasel; unfortunately he had been cursed from birth with narrow beady eyes, a pointed chin and a widow’s peak – all of which gave him a rather serpentine look. He was thin as a rail and long like a bean pole. Everything about him was pale too, from his hair and mustache to his skin. He looked like a whitewashed wall what with his preference for beige or white clothes. He must have been in his thirties but was unmarried because no decent woman would ever consider him husband material, even though he was as rich as Midas! Perhaps that was why he was so lecherous? And he was cunning to boot.

  Ever since John had died the man had relentlessly pursued her. Why, her husband had barely been cold in the grave two weeks before he came calling! First he wanted her to sell her home to the bank, then when she refused that, he wanted her to actually marry him! He even professed undying devotion to her! What absolute crock. If she didn’t know better she would think he had a screw or two lose in his brain. Even before her marriage Ben Williamson had followed her like a dog in heat. Thankfully Papa had soundly discouraged him back when he was alive and the man was too afraid of John to approach her when it was known that John had asked for her hand after Papa’s passing.<
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  She thought she had seen the last of him two weeks ago when she had told him in no uncertain terms that she was not interested in him and would never be interested in him. Besides, no decent man would try to pressure her as he had seeing that she was still in mourning for her husband! But here he was again. What was she going to do with the man? He did not seem to understand what the word “no” meant!

  “Good day Ms. Lively” Williamson said with an oily smile.

  “Ms. Lively?” exclaimed the distinguished looking man who had arrived with Williamson, “Ben I thought you said we were calling on a Ms. Carolina Hendricks. Who is Ms. Lively?”

  “I am sir,” Carolina said with a rigid smile, “Lively is my maiden name. However, I answer to Ms. Hendricks. And, if I may ask, sir, who are you?

  “The name is Jones, Madam. Matthew Jones.” He offered his hand and she shook it, noting the warmth and callouses. Despite all his polish, it was evident that those hands belonged to a working man. “Please pardon the intrusion. We were hoping to speak with you about something of a sensitive nature.”

  “Yes,” interjected Williamson looking peevish at the fact that Jones would dare to interrupt him. Clearing his throat, he looked back at Carolina with a smile which made her want to shudder with distaste. “This is important business. May we come in?”