Golden State Brides

by Keli Gwyn

  “Mr. Parks let me have some from his flower beds at the main church.”

  “These planters weren’t here this morning.” She stooped and fingered the tiny blossoms. The light bounced off the door, which had been covered by a tarpaulin earlier. “How on earth did you get the glass replaced so quickly? It took me a good ten days to get the sheet for my door.”

  “I’ve had it on order for a while. Why don’t you read the wording and see what you think? Out loud, please.”

  He sounded eager. Did her opinion mean that much to him? “RUTLEDGE MERCANTILE. PURVEYOR OF FINE GOODS. ESTABLISHED 1855. MILES AND—”

  “Don’t stop now.”

  Her voice shook. “MILES AND ELENORA RUTLEDGE, PROPRIETORS.” She tore her gaze from the door and faced him. “Miles!”

  “Ellie.”

  “This glass. It’s been here for hours. Anyone who walked by would have seen it. That means they know, don’t they?”

  “They do.” He squatted and reached behind one of the planters, smiling when he found what he was after.

  He stood, opened the small box, and held it out to her. There, nestled in a bed of black velvet, was a ring. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  “I know it’s customary for a gentleman to offer his betrothed a diamond or pearl engagement ring, but you know my propensity for flying in the face of convention. I got you an amethyst instead, a deep purple stone the same shade as the flowers you wore the day I met you. The day I made the biggest mistake of my life. One I want to rectify.”

  He set down the lantern, knelt, and took the ring from the box. “Ellie, I love you. I know I don’t deserve you and that I can be a bit hardheaded at times, but I hope you’re willing to overlook my failings. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  “You love me? I spent this entire day thinking you wanted me to leave. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Um, Ellie, if you’re going to turn me down—”

  “Turn you down? That’s preposterous. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted you to ask me to stay.”

  His brow furrowed. “I’m asking, but you’re not answering. And I worked hard to say things well this time.”

  She dropped to her knees and cradled his face in her hands. “Yes, Miles. Yes, yes, yes!”

  He slid the ring on her finger, pulled her into his arms, and leaned toward her.

  “We’re on Main Street. Anyone could see us.”

  “Tommy and Timmy are ensuring our privacy, so no more arguments. I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  His lips met hers. She buried her hands in his hair, drawing him closer. The heady sweetness of the kiss caused her to lose all track of time and space. Nothing existed beyond the two of them. She’d never felt such a connection to a man.

  When at length he released her, she gazed into his eyes. “I love you, too. I didn’t know for sure until this morning, mere minutes before I thought I’d lost you. But you…” She glanced at the door. “You must have known for some time.”

  “I started falling in love with you when your shop was damaged and you bandaged my hands. But when we sat in the church after the fire and you let me kiss you, I was sure. I’d tried before, and you’d always managed to waylay me. But that day when I needed you most, you were there for me.”

  She stood and ran a finger over the letters of her name, which were outlined in gold just the way she’d always envisioned them. “Why did you use our first names and not our initials?”

  He rose and draped an arm around her. “Because I want the world to know my partner is a woman—a wonderful, capable, amazing woman.”

  “You might not think me quite so wonderful when you hear what I have planned for the mercantile. You know I’ll have my say.”

  “I look forward to your ideas. Grayson isn’t the only one who sees the value in your way of doing things.”

  She inhaled sharply. “Mr. Grayson. I’d forgotten about him. I’ll have to send him a telegram right away. But I know he’ll understand. He told me the day he came to El Dorado that if anything—or anyone—enticed me to remain here, he’d make his offer to a woman who owns a shop down in Jackson. I don’t think it will come as a surprise to him when I tell him what I’ve decided.”

  “Now that I’ve convinced you to stay, how long do I have to wait before I can make you my bride?”

  “Hmm.” She tapped a finger on her cheek. “Since Tildy will pop if we set the date too far in the future, what do you say to a wedding a week from tomorrow when Mr. Parks is due next?”

  His face lit up. “Only eight days, and you’ll be mine to kiss anytime I want?”

  She gave him a coquettish smile. “You don’t have to wait. You can give me another kiss right now if you’d like.”

  And he did.

  Award-winning novelist Keli Gwyn is a California native who lives in a Gold Rush–era town at the foot of the majestic Sierra Nevada Mountains. Her stories transport readers to the 1800s, where she brings historic towns to life, peoples them with colorful characters, and adds a hint of humor. She fuels her creativity with Taco Bell and sweet tea. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and two skittish kitties.

  A Bride

  Sews with Love

  in Needles,

  California

  by Erica Vetsch

  Dedication

  In memory of the brave men and women of the Great War who served in the US and abroad. And to the memory of the thousands of Harvey Girls who provided hospitality and service to soldiers and passengers of the AT & SF railroad.

  Acknowledgments

  The author would like to thank Mary Ann Bucher and Faye Ricter of the Dodge County, Minnesota Historical Society for their assistance with the history of World War One veterans of Dodge County. It was at the DCHS Museum that the idea for this story was born after seeing a vintage WW1 Red Cross signature quilt. Very special thanks go out to my sister-in-law, Linda Ambrose, for all her help in creating our own Red Cross signature quilt, embroidered with the names of over 300 Dodge County WW1 Veterans. Both quilts are on display at the DCHS Museum in Mantorville, Minnesota.

  Chapter 1

  There is nothing so stubborn and exasperating as a headstrong Irish daughter.”

  “You only bring up my Irish half when I’m suggesting something you don’t like. If I please you, you claim my Norwegian side.” Meghan set her jaw, determined to stand up to Papa.

  “How do I know this isn’t just another one of your wild schemes? Like the mail-order candy or the door-to-door sewing notions? Remember how those ended? Flying high only to fall to earth with a thud after a few weeks.” His huge boots clomped as he paced the sitting room floor, drowning out the sound of rain pattering against the windowpane as a late spring storm blew through. “You always start out with the best of intentions, child, but you don’t think things through. Always you think you can whip the world, but you take on too much and come crashing down.”

  “It won’t be like that. I was a child then. I didn’t know what I was doing.” Meghan Thorson poked the logs in the fireplace, sending a shower of sparks racing up the flue. “I won’t be trying to start my own business. I’ll be working for one of the most reputable companies in the country. And it’s only for six months, not forever. If I don’t like it, I can come home then. But I will like it. You’ll see. You’re the one who has been saying I need to find something to occupy my time, something that would help the war effort and keep me out of your hair. This job will definitely keep me out of your way. Needles is more than fifteen hundred miles from here.”

  Papa stopped pacing, stroked his reddish-blond beard, and studied her with somber blue eyes. “And how long will it be before I get a letter saying you hate it out there and you’re coming home?”

  “You won’t get such a letter from me.”

  “Couldn’t you find something closer to home? I thought you would get a job here in Mantorville, or even over in Rochester. California is too far away.”

&
nbsp; Mama’s knitting needles clicked, a sound as familiar to Meghan as her own breathing. “You hoped it would be in Rochester so you could have an excuse to drive your new motorcar over there.” She barely looked up from the sock she knitted. Socks, socks, and more socks. American soldiers in the trenches in France needed socks, and Mama’s knitting needles never stopped.

  I pray over every pair as if they were going to Lars himself. They are all my sons in that way, all those soldiers. And I know their mamas are praying for them as well. Mamas of soldiers knit and pray.

  “I don’t want a job close to home. I want to stand on my own two feet, do something bigger, travel, and”—she spread her hands—“I don’t know how to explain it. I just know I need to do this. I knew it as soon as I saw the advertisement in the Tribune.”

  Mama sighed. “She needs to go. She’s gone in her heart already.” Click, click, click. “I’m surprised we were able to keep our little sparrow in the nest this long. She’s always desired to fly. This is her chance.” A faraway look invaded Mama’s expression, softening her face in the firelight.

  But Papa was not softened. “Mary Kate, I thought you would have agreed with me that Meghan should stay here. With us. She’s too young to leave home.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and stood square before Mama’s chair. “She is barely more than a child. Not old enough to go so far away from home.”

  Mama’s red lashes flicked upward from her yarn, showing eyes so green they seemed to glitter—the same eyes she’d passed on to Meghan, along with her red hair and freckles—and according to Papa, her Irish stubbornness.

  “Look at her. She’s twenty years old. When I was eighteen, I set out on a wonderful adventure. I sailed away from Ireland to America. And I met a handsome Norseman on the boat who swept me off my feet and carried me away to his new home in Minnesota.” She grinned. “By the time I was twenty, I was already a mama to Lars.”

  Papa’s brow scrunched. “That’s different.”

  “Is it? I think it is very much the same. Let her have her adventure, Per. She’s young, and there is so much strife in the world right now, so little for a young woman to be excited about. Who knows, perhaps she’ll find a strapping, brave young man to call her own like I did.”

  Jabbing the poker into the coals, Meghan protested. “Mama, that’s not why I’m going. Working for The Harvey Company means I will get to see more of America than this little corner. I’ll get to meet lots of people and have a steady job that pays well. I want to be busy just now. I want to feel like I’m doing something important. Serving people, especially soldiers, in the restaurant will be my way of helping with the cause. The woman who interviewed me for the position said hundreds of soldiers pass through their eating establishments on their way to the war.”

  Papa made a gruff sound in his throat. “But it’s so far away. If I had known you were going to apply at The Harvey Company while we were there, I never would’ve taken you with me to Chicago.”

  Meghan left her spot beside the fireplace and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek above his full beard. “Well, I’m glad you did take me. Seeing Chicago was a real treat, and so was getting this job. The interview nearly scared me out of my shoes, but I lived through it, and they hired me. Please, Papa, give me your blessing. It’s only for six months.”

  He enfolded her in a bear hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “The women in my life will be the death of me.”

  She squeezed his waist and pulled back to look up into his face. “You know I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think this was what God wanted me to do. It feels right.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Be careful how you throw that around, child. Many a foolish thing has been done in the name of God. And many a thing we want to do has been justified by calling it the will of God.”

  She bit her lower lip. Was she being headstrong and impulsive? It wouldn’t be the first time. But she wanted this so badly. And it did feel right.

  He tweaked her nose and let her go. “When do you have to leave?”

  Meghan whirled and pounced on the letter that had come that day. “I’m to report to the offices in Chicago in three days. They’ll provide the uniforms, the training, and the transportation to my new job.”

  “You will be homesick within the week,” Papa predicted, crossing his arms once more. “You’ve never been away from home, and you love Minnesota. Your Irish and Norwegian heritage has given you a need to be surrounded by green, growing things. The desert won’t feed your soul the way the fields and forests of this land do.”

  “I will miss you and Mama, but seeing different places and meeting new people is part of the fun. It wouldn’t be much of an adventure if where I’m going turns out to be exactly like here.”

  “And you are sure you will be safe? You’ll have someone to look after you?” The doubt-clouds returned to his eyes.

  She rushed to reassure him. “All the girls must live in a dormitory, and there is a strict curfew, and there are lots of rules. Your little girl will be just fine.”

  “Will she?” Papa’s mouth twisted, rueful and wry. “Lots of rules and my Meghan have never gotten along too well.”

  Mama chuckled and loosened more yarn from her skein. “That’s a plain truth. How will you do following rules and behaving yourself?”

  “I can do it,” Meghan boasted. “I’ll be the best Harvey Girl that company has ever seen. By the time my contract is up, they’ll be begging me to stay.”

  “Needles, California, coming up!” The dapper conductor, brass buttons gleaming in two bright rows down his navy suit, rocked his way along the aisle as passengers stirred and began removing belongings from the overhead racks.

  Meghan turned her attention to the window, eager to get a glimpse of the town that would be her home for at least the next six months, but she was on the wrong side of the train.

  Empty wasteland swept by, punctuated by clumps of cactus and scrub. Jagged, rocky peaks and rounded piles of sand thrust upward into the sky, and occasional sparse green patches showed where someone was trying to scratch out a living in this inhospitable landscape. They had crossed over the muddy Colorado River which flowed sullenly, as if the heat had sapped its energy and the sand had choked its will to move.

  “I knew we’d be living in the desert, but I didn’t realize how stark it would be.”

  “It doesn’t look much like Illinois. It’s terribly hot, and it’s only May. What must it be like here in July?” Natalie Daviot, a Springfield native, dabbed her temples again and nudged Meghan’s arm. “Are you nervous? I sure am.”

  Meghan shook her head automatically, paused for a moment, and crumbled, nodding. Though they’d only known each other a few short days, she and Natalie had become instant friends. Neither had ever been away from home before, and they’d grasped onto each other like a lifeline in the huge, bustling depot in Chicago where they had been met by someone from the Fred Harvey Company to begin their employment as Harvey Girls.

  Meghan was grateful to have Natalie with her, because instead of the customary four weeks of training in one of the Kansas Harvey House Restaurants that they’d been told to expect, they’d been whisked away on the train to fill vacant spots in Needles, California, that had suddenly opened up. They’d had no time to become acclimated, to make new friends, or to get their bearings. Instead, they’d had a brief orientation meeting, been measured for uniforms, and been all but tossed onto a southwest-bound train.

  “Okay, so we’re nervous.” She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, lifting her chin to a confident angle. “But we won’t show it. We’re capable, independent, intelligent women employed by the Fred Harvey Company.” Which sounded so much more impressive than she felt. And yet, the glow of accomplishment and pride at being hired by such a prestigious company remained. The company’s high standards were well-known, and the pay was better than anything she could’ve expected to earn back in Mantorville. Not to mention the bonus pay Harvey Girls received for working in Needles
during the summer. For the next six months, she was a Harvey Girl, subject to the company rules and expectations, and the recipient of the respect her new black-and-white uniform would command.

  Natalie fanned herself with a folded newspaper. The air in the car had grown progressively warmer until someone had finally relented and opened a window. The trade-off for air circulation was the smoke and soot from the engine blowing in the window and coating everything with smuts and smudges. Still, it was better than suffocating.

  “I’d be pleased to help you with your bags, ma’am.” A gravelly voice had them both looking up. A scruffy man in a battered cowboy hat stood in the aisle. Sunshine had tanned his skin to leather and etched deep lines around his eyes and mouth. Those eyes lit with admiration as he looked at Natalie, and though Meghan couldn’t blame him for staring at her friend’s blond loveliness, she couldn’t help but feel a prick in her heart. Her own wavy, red hair and pale, freckled skin never drew that kind of admiration. What would it be like to have men falling over themselves to assist her? What would it be like to be classically beautiful and capture every man’s eye when she walked into a room? Not that she really wanted to be the center of attention like that any more than Natalie did. But it would be nice to know she could.

  “That’s most kind, thank you, but I’m sure we can manage.” Natalie showed not the slightest interest in him, just as she had ignored the advances of every man they’d encountered on the journey. The hopeful stranger touched the brim of his hat and turned away.

  Natalie leaned her head against the seatback and closed her eyes. Her profile reminded Meghan of the cameo Papa had given Mama as a wedding gift, delicate, regal, beautiful. The sadness in her new friend’s eyes seemed only to add to her beauty. It made Meghan want to protect Natalie, to reassure her that everything would be all right. Was it simple homesickness, or did Natalie carry other burdens?

  The train slowed and lurched to a stop, causing all the standing passengers to grab seatbacks to steady themselves. The conductor opened the door, and like a gopher trying to squeeze out of a too-small hole, folks crowded through. Not until the car had half-emptied did the girls file out of their seats and reach for their bags in the overhead racks. Meghan searched their seating area for any stray belongings.