"You need to discourage him, Sarah. You know what is at stake here." Doris eyed her with her hands firmly on her hips.
Nodding, Sarah walked past her and with a heavy heart and legs that felt wooden, she climbed the stairs. Inside her room, she flung herself across the bed. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She longed for a normal life. A life where a gentleman was permitted to call upon her. Where marriage and children were a part of her life. Sitting up, she wiped the tears away. She needed to pull herself together and stop longing for things that would never be. She lost the right to wish for those things a long time ago. She would forever pay for her foolish mistake.
Shouting downstairs drew her attention. She sat straining to hear the words but from her room upstairs, it was impossible. Shoving off the bed, she headed downstairs. Inside the drawing room, Doris stood facing a very angry Lucy. From where she stood, Sarah could see the veins bulging on Lucy's neck. Mary was sitting on the couch, watching with a smile on her face as if the argument was entertaining. Mary was like that though—a woman who always seemed to feed on drama. When none was present, Sarah noticed the other woman would try to create it.
"Lucy, calm down. Nothing will be accomplished by doing this," Doris said, her voice calm and soothing.
"I will not calm down. I am tired of living like this. I almost died," Lucy screamed.
"Honey, we have all almost died a time or two. What makes you so special?" Mary asked.
Sarah stepped farther into the room. "Lucy, what is going on?"
"Sarah, stay out of it. This doesn't concern you."
"Well, I heard you mention you almost died. I seemed to remember it was I who nursed you during that time back to health. So maybe it does concern me." She came closer to the two women.
"She says she is leaving. You know as well as I do that she would be lucky to make to the edge of town alive." Doris turned and Sarah saw the fear in the woman's eyes. Fear for Lucy or for herself, Sarah was unsure.
"She is right, Lucy. He will kill you if you try to leave." Sarah reached out but Lucy jerked away from her.
“I can’t feel or use my hand. What that man did to me will never heal proper.” Lucy dropped her head and stared at the floor. Her shoulders began to shake, tears spilled down her face.
Unsure exactly what to do, Sarah went to the woman and wrapped her arms around her. She could feel the woman shake as sobs tore from her throat. "It will be alright, Lucy. We are all in this together."
"No, we are not!" Breaking free of the embrace, Lucy turned and ran from the room.
At the sound of the front door slamming, Sarah rushed to the window and peered out the window. Lucy ran down the street. Her head shook back and forth, her arms flaying about. If anyone didn’t know better, they would swear the young woman was touched in the head or perhaps possessed. Sarah stood watching, feverously she prayed Lucy came to her senses and came back before it was too late.
Chapter 9
Danielsville, July 1863
Sarah wandered around the store, looking at nothing in particular. It was a lovely day and she needed time to herself away from the boarding house. Everyone there was on edge over Lucy running away several weeks earlier. No one knew what fate had befallen the young woman. Sarah just prayed the girl had made it out of town alive. Knowing Mr. Washington and his men, she doubted that was the case. Something shiny caught her eye and she moved over to the shelf to inspect it further.
"Good afternoon, ma'am."
Sarah jumped and threw her hand up to her chest. Her heart hammered under her palm. "Doctor O'Brian, you startled me."
"My apologies," he offered with a slight bow and tip of his hat.
"Apologies accepted.'' Turning, she moved past him and began heading toward the door.
"Sarah, wait. I would like to talk with you."
Stopping, she turned back toward him. "About what?"
"I don't know exactly. Just talk."
“Alright, this is a public place, so there’s nothing improper about a small chat. Have you been reading the paper?"
"A time or two. Why?" he asked as he took a couple steps closer to her.
"I wonder what you thought of the draft riots in New York and Boston." She knew men did not speak of serious matters with women. It was a test, one she hoped he passed.
"The riots and war are not something a lady should concern herself with. It is, after all, such unpleasantness."
Disappointment shot through her. She was wrong. He was no different. Turning her face away, she hoped he had not seen the pain his words had caused her. Taking a deep breath, she hoped her expression was one of nonchalance when she turned back toward him.
"I do concern myself with such matters. It is a topic I very much would like to discuss," she pushed on.
"Alright then, Sarah, you want my thoughts on the matter. I feel the riots were just as senseless as the war itself. No good can ever come from violence."
"Do you not have two brothers fighting in this war?"
"Yes, I do, and it is their war to fight, not mine. In the end, one will claim victory but there will be no winners. Just wives without husbands, mothers without sons, brothers without brothers. Basically, just men dead."
"I see. To me, the rich men call for war and the poor men are left to do the bidding. I cannot blame anyone for fighting against being forced into the battles called up by the rich and powerful men."
"I agree that good men should fight against evil, but there must be a better way than this."
She was about to say something when the tinkling of a bell drew her attention to the door. Mr. Washington stood just inside the door with his daughter, and both were staring right at Sarah and Matthew. A look of pure hatred flashed in Amelia's eyes. Mr. Washington’s expression was cold and unfeeling. This was bad, very bad. She would be punished for sure. If for nothing else than sparking jealousy in his daughter.
"Good day, doctor," she announced a bit too loudly. Turning, she rushed past Amelia and her father. Out on the street, trembling hands gripped her skirt as tears pulled in her eyes. Lifting her skirt, she ran toward the boarding house. She knew all too well how cruel Mr. Washington could be. It was the not knowing when he would exact his punishment on her that left a coldness deep inside her.
***
"Dr. O'Brian, what a pleasure to see you here." Amelia moved away from her father to come stand in front of Matthew.
"Miss Amelia." Tipping his hat to her, he felt annoyed that her presence caused Sarah to leave so abruptly.
"You and Sarah sure looked deep in conversation."
"Yes, well, she is very easy to talk with." He looked around trying to find a way to get out of chatting with this young woman. Unfortunately, father stood between him and the door. "Mr. Washington, sir, it is good to see you today." He hoped talking with his employer would prove to get him out of speaking with Amelia. He didn't want to encourage her any further.
"Good to see you too, Matthew. What were you and Sarah discussing so intently?"
"We were discussing the riots in Boston and New York, along with the war itself."
"What a horrible topic for a lady to engage in," Amelia injected. Her face scrunched up in pure disdain.
"Come now, Amelia. Sarah is not as gently bred as you are, my dear." Mr. Washington moved next to his daughter and patted her arm.
"Of course, Father, but still, she should know not to engage in such conversations with a man." Amelia's voice had taken on a whine that grated on Matthew's nerves.
"I will see to it that her instructors remind her of proper topics for a lady." Turning, he looked at Matthew. " I must ask that you do not further encourage such topics with Sarah or any of the other women at the boarding house. It would surely hurt their chances to get into a good school if they believed it proper to discuss such things."
"Of course, sir. My apologies. If you will excuse me, I must get back to the office in case any patients arrive." Tipping his hat, he moved past them and out of the general
store.
Back at his office, he sat in silence waiting for any patient to show up. When time dragged on, he got out his stationary and penned a letter to his mother. He told her about the small town and the people who made it a lovely place to live. When he was done, he read what he wrote. He had mentioned Sarah so much that one would think he was obsessed with her. His mother would surely think he was courting the young woman. He wadded the letter up and tossed it into the trash can. After a moment, he pulled it back out and smoothed the wrinkled page. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to allow her to think her son might settle down with a good woman. It was, after all, a simple pleasure he could afford the greatest woman he ever knew.
A letter he had gotten on Friday but had no time to open at the time caught his attention. He grabbed the letter opener and opened it. When he unfolded it, he saw it was from his sister-in-law Ester. With a smile he settled in to read it.
Dearest Matthew,
I hope this letter finds you safe and well. Everyone here in Chicago misses you so much. Mother O’Brian is often beside herself with worry over you and of course the twins. I try to reassure her that you will be fine off in Missouri serving the good townsfolk there. I am sure though you know your mother and nothing will ever appease her till you and your brothers all come home again. She has written Michael the other day once again begging him to remain in England until the war is well and over. I am happy to report that Topsannah has delivered her baby. We now have a healthy niece in the family. David is over the moon at having a daughter. Even little Scottie is thrilled to have a baby sister. I hope you can find time away from your practice to join us for Christmas. It would mean the world to all of us. I am keeping this letter short as I know you must be extremely busy being the only doctor in the area.
Sincerely,
Ester O’Brian.
He reread the short letter again and smiled. He was thrilled for his brother David. For along time he thought David would remain single raising a small boy all on his own. After all after Angela died delivering the baby, David had taken the wee boy and run off to Texas. Then right after John had married Ester, they all traveled to Texas and almost instantly David had wed Topsannah. Marriage was a good thing for both of his brothers and he was happy for them. It just wasn’t however something that would make him happy. No being a doctor was what made him happy.
As the sun set in the sky, he ate a meager dinner of vegetable soup. Heating water, he drew himself a bath and sank into the metal tub. He slid down into the water, letting it soothe away the sounds of the saloon next door. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the edge of the metal tub as steam swirled around him. Images of Sarah fill his mind. She was not ideally beautiful in the same sense a man would describe Amelia as beautiful. She was more a simple beauty that drew his attention quicker than any overtly beauty ever could. Her simple beauty equated in his mind to loyalty. Whereas the type of beauty Amelia had was more akin to social climber. Nowhere inside his mind did he think loyalty was within Amelia's personality. He knew he could be wrong, but it was a gut feeling, a feeling that grew with each encounter with the young lady. Shaking off thoughts of Amelia, he focused his full attention on Sarah.
He wasn’t sure how long he had laid there dreaming of Sarah. The water had grown cold and uncomfortable by time he emerged from the tub to dry off. The loud noises from the saloon drifted back to him. Of all the places for a doctor's office and quarters, it had to be next to a saloon he was forbidden to enter. Dressed once again, he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Swirling the amber-colored liquid around in the glass, he breathed in the fragrance that could only be achieved from years in an oak barrel. The soft amber color belied its harsh taste. He swallowed it in a single shot and let it burn its way down to settle warm in his gut. He extinguished the lantern and crawled into bed, hoping the whiskey would help him sleep despite the loud noises next door.
Chapter 10
She was sure one of Mr. Washington's men would be sent to deal with her. When the sun set and no one came, she began to breathe a bit easier. It was so foolish to be caught out in public speaking with the doctor. She knew how Clyde could be—such behavior was never tolerated. Friendly and accommodating inside the saloon to men was expected. It was also expected that outside the saloon, the girls would be cold and distant with any man. Turning from the window, Sarah sat on the edge of her bed. She untied her boots and let them fall with a thud.
She climbed down and peered under the bed. Her carpetbag was there ready and waiting. Soon she would make a break for freedom. Standing, she placed her hand on her stomach. It wasn't just about her anymore. No, the life growing inside her depended on her to be smart and get them far away from here. She knew she had to do it before she started to show much more. Right now, Doris believed she was just putting on a few pounds. The truth wouldn't stay hidden for long. Once the truth was out, she knew her unborn child's life would be in danger . . . as well as her own.
She quickly changed into her flannel night shift and climbed into bed. She lay for a moment staring at the ceiling. Doubts creeped in on her, stealing her resolve. If she fled, where would she go? Could she risk living on the streets at the mercy of others? Surely that would be far worse than being here. No, no she must flee. To stay would sentence the unborn child to death. She knew as sure as she knew anything they would beat it from her body.
She reached over and extinguished the lantern. She settled down under the covers and sent up a silent prayer to God. Yes, God would give her the strength she needed. He alone would show her the way out of this nightmare. With her prayer said, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
She rose the next morning, fear still gripping her heart. Just because punishment hadn't been dealt last night didn't mean it wouldn't come today. She bent down and reached far under her bed. Her hand brushed against the jar and she grabbed it. She headed over to her dresser and pulled out a few white linens, then doused them in the red liquid within, careful to not get any on her hands. She smiled and tossed them into her laundry basket. Quickly, she replaced the jar back under her bed. She picked up the basket and headed downstairs.
"Women's laundry," Doris said as Sarah came into the kitchen.
"Yes." She continued to head for the back door. She knew she had just bought herself a week away from the saloon and further hid her secret.
"It is Saturday."
"I understand that, but I cannot control these things. After all, they are God's punishment for Eve's sins." She slipped out the back door and left Doris to fume in the kitchen. At the small pump, she filled water into a bucket. She headed over to the table near the house and set her bucket down. The washboard and lye soap lay waiting on the table. She proceeded to scrub her women's laundry then emptied the bucket. She proceeded back into the kitchen and hung them to dry on the thin line set up for just that purpose. Yes, one should not let their unmentionables or monthly linens hang on the outside line for the neighbors to see. Even in this small place the rules of society must be upheld.
"Have you heard any word on Lucy?" she asked as she hung up the last piece of linen.
"No," Doris responded as she sat at the table with a cup of coffee.
"He killed her. I know it." She went to the counter and poured a cup for herself.
"Sarah, it is best if you remember to not concern yourself with Lucy's fate."
"How do you do this? How can you stand it all?" She sat across from Doris and saw sadness in the older woman's eyes.
"The same reason you do this. He would surely kill us all, and I have no interest in death right now."
They fell into silence as they sipped their coffee, each reflecting on what had led them to this place. For Sarah, she was an orphan who belonged nowhere. Answering an ad for a mail-order bride had seemed like the answers to her prayers—until she got here and realized it was not a God send but a summons from the Devil himself. Nowhere to go. No one to rescue her. No, she was trapped here. She remembered her resolve
last night and vowed again to gain her freedom or die trying.
***
Matthew had just finished cooking his breakfast when a loud bang sounded from the downstairs door. Resigned to eating another cold breakfast, he set his plate on the table and headed downstairs. The banging continued until he yanked the door open. Standing in front of him was a priest, an honest to goodness Catholic priest. What in the world was going on? Why was there a priest at his door?
"Can I help you, Father?" He was shocked to see a priest here. He hadn’t seen a priest since he left Chicago. He had been resigned to worship inside a Protestant church, not that the services were bad but they were nothing like he had been use to growing up.
"First you can ask me in," the priest said.
Matthew's eyes widened. "Gage Bryan, my good boy. Get in here."
When the young man entered the foyer, Matthew threw his arms around him. A moment later he let go, stepped back, and looked at the young priest. The smile on his face was replaced by a frown.
"Gage, why are you dressed like a priest?"
"Well, I plan to be one someday." the young man said.
"Someday does not mean you are one today. Now what is going on?"
"Everyone thought if I came dressed as a priest it would be less suspicious than a Pinkerton detective, ex Texas Ranger, or any of the other sorts."
"I am not following, so get to it, young man," he said in his best big brother voice.
"Let’s say that Ronnie Drew is not doing very well at all."
This was not good at all. If John and his brothers thought it best to send the young Gage dressed as a priest, then things were worse than he thought. The disturbed Jacob may have been spinning more truth than falsehood in his tales. He motioned for Gage to follow him and headed back upstairs. In his small kitchen, he reached for an extra plate and spooned some of his breakfast on to it, then sat it in front of an empty chair. Once the men had settled in front of their breakfast, they said grace.
The Devil's Bride Page 5
