Wed on the Wagon Train

by Tracy Blalock

  She pushed the sad thoughts aside and entered the bunkhouse. She yawned and weariness filled her. Josephine knew that once she told Philip who she really was, she’d need a couple of hours’ sleep before heading to the town of Dove Creek. She hadn’t waited for Thomas’s letter and now only hoped that she’d be given the directions to the relay station that he ran. If she understood correctly, it was a mere five miles on the other side of Dove Creek, so shouldn’t be too hard to find.

  Nerves warred with hunger as she thought about this new life she planned to carve out for herself. Josephine prayed once more that she’d made the right decisions in answering a mail-order-bride ad, joining the Pony Express to escape her uncle and then marrying a man she didn’t know. Some might say she’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire; Josephine didn’t know, but she was about to find out.

  * * *

  Thomas Young leaned against the stone fireplace, watching snow drift silently to the ground in light, fluffy flakes. Living at a Pony Express relay station was the perfect life. He and his brother Philip had everything they needed. They attended to the Pony Express station that rested on the far side of the Young Home Station, which was always their first and last stop on their rides. Their ma liked this because it meant she got to see her adopted sons at least once a week. The home stations offered a bed and meal, whereas their small station offered only a fresh horse and more miles to ride between home stations.

  Thomas heard the bugle blow seconds before the young man came into sight. The Pony Express rider came in fast and hard. Not all the riders used the bugle, but this one did. Thomas pushed himself away from the fireplace wall. He hurried to the barn and pulled out the already saddled horse that the rider would exchange. He’d take care of the exhausted horse as soon as the Express rider was on his way.

  The young boy rode low over his horse’s neck. The powdery snow lifted from the horse’s hooves like steam from an overheated kettle.

  Thomas braced himself for the horse exchange. The boy practically leaped from one horse to the other in one motion. Thomas recognized him as Juan. “Adios!” he called after the retreating back. The pony beside him heaved. Juan had ridden him hard.

  The rider waved and shouted back. “Buenos Dias, Senor Young!”

  He smiled and then gently tugged on the reins of the spent horse. “Come along, boy. We’ll have fresh oats in your belly in a few moments.” Thomas took the horse to the small barn that housed six Pony Express horses. His own gelding was behind the barn in the lean-to it shared with Philip’s horse.

  The smell of hay and oats filled his nostrils. The warmth of the barn wrapped around his chilled body. Philip had been gone for almost four days. He’d planned to ride his part of the trail and then stop in at their adoptive mother’s home station near Dove Creek.

  As he worked, Thomas talked to the horses. “Philip should be home later today, boys. I’ve missed his constant chatter. How about you?”

  One of the animals kicked its stall door in answer. Thomas laughed. “Well, at least one of you missed him, too.” He took off the Pony Express–issued saddle and began rubbing down the horse that had just arrived.

  “I see you are still talking to the animals.”

  Thomas turned to smile at the little woman who stood in the doorway. Hazel Gorman was short, round and full of wrinkles. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she looked at him. He wasn’t sure of her age and had never been brave enough to ask. “Hello, Hazel. I didn’t hear you arrive.” He put the horse into a stall, where fresh oats awaited it.

  She continued into the barn carrying a big basket. “With the way you and these horses were yammering on, I’m not surprised.” There was a teasing glint in her voice that assured him she was joking.

  “What’s in the basket?” Thomas knew it contained some kind of eatable. Hazel was their nearest neighbor and enjoyed bringing them some form of baked good at least once a week. She also brought them canned goods and warm soups or stews.

  “It’s getting colder, so I thought you two boys might like a couple of loaves of bread, and I’ve also jarred up my favorite beef stew. It should last you a few days.” Her wrinkled face crinkled up into a smile.

  The old woman had more or less adopted Thomas and Philip and used the excuse of feeding them as a reason to come over and check on them. Thomas knew she grew lonely out on her place and, to be honest, he enjoyed her frequent visits.

  “Well, thank you. Come on into the house. I just put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

  She fell into step with him. “When is Phil coming home?”

  Thomas grinned. “Anytime now. He should have already arrived.”

  As if she heard the loneliness in his voice, Hazel grunted. “You two boys need wives to help you pass the time when the other is working.”

  He held the door open for her. Thomas didn’t point out that he was working, too. And he wasn’t about to talk about getting wives. Instead he said, “That stew smells good.”

  Hazel playfully slapped his arm as she passed. “You can’t smell the stew. You’re just trying to change the subject.” She walked to the kitchen area and set the bread and jars on the table.

  He closed the door and shut out the cold air and lightly falling snow. “Look, Hazel, I know you mean well, but Philip and I are doing just fine without wives.”

  She ignored him and moved to the cabinet that contained four tin mugs, the remainder of the clean dishes in the house. Hazel filled two of them with hot coffee and motioned for him to join her at the table.

  Thomas sat down with a sigh. If he knew Hazel, and he believed he did, she was going to start a running conversation on the benefits of having a wife.

  Hazel studied his features over the rim of her coffee cup.

  He turned his face so that she could see only the right side. The last thing Thomas wanted was for her to focus on the scar that ran from his temple to his chin on the right side. It wasn’t pretty and no woman should have to look at it straight on.

  “You are a handsome young man, Tom. Look at me.” She lowered her cup.

  Thomas tried a teasing tone. “You are mighty pretty, too, Miss Hazel. Are you hinting you’d like to marry me?” He continued to keep his face tilted from her sight.

  “You rascal. We both know I’m too old for you. Besides, I want a man who isn’t ashamed of his looks.” Her tone had lost its teasing tone.

  Thomas didn’t have a chance to answer. The door burst open and Philip came into the cabin. Cold air and a petite young woman followed him inside.

  Without so much as a how-do-you-do, Philip blurted, “Hey, Thomas! Look what I brought home!”

  This couldn’t be good. Philip looked a little too cheerful. The pixie-looking girl beside him smiled shyly and clutched a worn piece of luggage in her small hands. She was a pretty little thing with big brown eyes, a mass of short red hair and the cutest turned-up nose he’d ever seen. Thomas didn’t know how to answer his brother. He had no idea what was going on. “Um...”

  Hazel got to her feet. “Did you up and get married, Phil?” She hurried forward and hugged him.

  Shock filled Philip’s face as he held his hands up like a bank robber in front of the sheriff. “No.”

  Hazel stood back and frowned. “Then maybe you should explain who this young lady is.” She released him and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.

  Philip reached behind him and pulled the pixie forward. “This is Josephine Dooly. Thomas’s mail-order bride.” His laughing blue eyes met Thomas’s.

  “What?” Thomas’s and Hazel’s shocked voices echoed each other.

  The young woman seemed to have found her tongue. “I know I should have waited till you sent for me, but, well, under the circumstances, I came as fast as I could.”

  “What circumstances?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I told y
ou in the letter.” Small hands clutched the carpetbag as if she were afraid they’d take it from her.

  “What letter?” Thomas stood and raked his hand down the side of his scarred face.

  Philip looked as pleased as punch. His blue eyes danced with merriment as the scene unfolded before him.

  Hazel’s gaze darted between the three of them. She finally focused her eyes upon Josephine. “I’m Hazel Gorman. Let’s sit down at the table and see if we can sort this all out.” Her wrinkled hand waved toward Thomas and the chairs that remained empty behind him.

  Josephine nodded. She sat her bag beside the door and walked toward him.

  Philip shook his head. “I need to unload the wagon before the storm hits.”

  “It will wait.” The steel in Hazel’s voice stopped the young man. Wariness filled his eyes.

  Thomas waited for the young woman to sit, then he did the same. Whatever was going on, it was obvious that Philip had a hand in it all. Thomas picked up his warm cup and cradled it between his palms as he watched his brother pull out a seat at the old wooden table. The smile on Philip’s face set Thomas’s teeth on edge.

  Hazel set cups of coffee in front of Philip and Josephine. “All right, you two. Start at the beginning.”

  Josephine looked at Philip, who quickly began to study the surface of the table as if he’d never seen it before. She shrugged and said in a soft voice, “As Philip said, I am Josephine Dooly. I answered Thomas’s mail-order-bride ad because my uncle is trying to marry me off to pay for his gambling debts. Mr. Grossman, my uncle’s chosen husband for me, is three times my age and a gambler with no moral conscience. I’d simply be a servant in his house.” She shuddered and inhaled before continuing. “When I answered Thomas’s mail-order-bride ad, I explained that I wanted to get away from my uncle and start somewhere fresh. Thomas wrote back and said he’d send me money for passage out to Dove Creek as soon as he could afford to. I couldn’t wait, so I took a job as a Pony Express rider and brought myself to Dove Creek.”

  She took a deep breath and looked to Philip, who still studied the tabletop. A sigh escaped her lips before she pressed on. “I met Philip at the home station and he said he was Thomas’s brother and would take me to him. So while he completed his Express run, I went into town and bought a couple of dresses, shoes and other things I knew I’d need to start a new life and home with Thomas. My things are on the wagon.”

  Thomas shook his head. “I never placed a mail-order-bride ad.”

  Josephine’s chocolate eyes flared with new brightness. “I wrote to you and you answered.”

  Hazel focused on Philip. “What do you have to say about all this, young man?”

  He finally looked up. “Well, I got to thinking about what you said.” Philip paused, but Hazel’s lips only grew thinner. “You know, about how lonesome Thomas gets when I’m off on my rides for the Pony Express.” He paused again. Still no response came from the older woman. “So I placed the ad.” He held up his hands at the flash of anger that entered the older woman’s eyes. “Now, Hazel, don’t get all riled up. You are the one who said he needed a wife.” Philip crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chair back. “I got him one.”

  Josephine gasped. From the look on her delicate features, this was news to her, too.

  Thomas wanted to knock the chair right out from under Philip. He lowered his voice and said, “Philip, this has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. I don’t want a wife. You marry her.” He pushed away from the table.

  Philip dropped the chair back onto four legs and stood, also. “I’m not the one who is moping around here like a lost puppy.”

  Anger flared through Thomas’s blood. “I haven’t been moping and I don’t want or need a wife.” He waved his hand toward Josephine.

  Josephine was on her feet in an instant. “I will not marry him!” she said, pointing at Philip with a shaky finger. “He’s a liar and can’t be trusted.” She turned toward Thomas. “You, on the other hand, I have to marry and I have to do it quick.”

  “Why me?” Thomas demanded through gritted teeth, not liking that he felt as if he were being pushed against the wall.

  Hazel spoke calmly but firmly. “Sit down, all of you.” When all three did as she said, Hazel sighed. “Philip, this is a mess and it’s your fault.” She turned to look at Josephine. “I’m sorry you got involved with these two’s tomfoolery.”

  Josephine’s big brown eyes filled with tears. “I have to marry Thomas. My uncle could find me at any time and force me to marry Mr. Grossman. I don’t want to get married, either, but it’s my only escape.”

  Thomas studied the girl. She had a heart-shaped face surrounded by short, fiery red curls that came to her jawbone. Brown eyes as big as pie plates were filled with the bare glistening of tears. Small freckles were sprinkled over her pert nose. She certainly was a pretty little thing.

  Josephine’s eyes blazed into his as she huffed and visibly stiffened, gaining her nerve, it would seem. “Look, I realize this isn’t what you want, but I have to get married and you are the one I am going to marry.” She swallowed hard, lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze.

  The show of strength and the determination in her voice took him by surprise. What had happened to the young woman who moments ago had trembling lips and tears in her eyes? Was her situation so desperate she’d marry a scarred man like him?

  The wind whipped around the cabin windows. Hazel looked at the swirling snow outside. “I have to get home, but I refuse to leave this young woman alone with you two.” She pushed her chair back. “Josephine, you come home with me and we’ll sort this out tomorrow.”

  Josephine pushed herself to a standing position and raised her chin with a cool stare in Thomas’s direction. “I expect to get married tomorrow.” With her head held high, Josephine picked up her bag and followed Hazel out onto the front porch.

  Thomas’s gaze followed her. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall. Such a tiny woman for such a big attitude.

  Josephine turned and looked at Philip. Her hand clasped something under her blouse as if she were seeking strength. “You will pay for this, Philip Young.” Then she followed Hazel off the porch and into the swirling snow.

  Thomas looked at his brother’s stricken face. Had he not been so upset with Philip, he’d have laughed outright. For once in his life, Philip actually looked afraid. Josephine Dooly might be small, but she’d put the fear into Philip.

  Renewed anger at what his brother had done turned Thomas’s tone to grit. “I’m going to follow Hazel home. I’d hate for them to get trapped in this weather. You need to get whatever is in the wagon and bring it into the house.”

  Seeing Philip’s horse standing beside the porch, Thomas decided to take it for the short ride over to Hazel’s small farm.

  Hazel and Josephine sat side by side on Hazel’s wagon bench. The two women were bundled up and heading down the rutted road. Thomas followed. What was he going to do now? He didn’t want to get married, but the fear he’d seen in Josephine’s eyes had been real.

  If he understood her correctly, Josephine’s uncle intended to sell her to his gambler friend to pay off his own debts. No one deserved to be held in servitude to another, and if what the young woman had said was true, Thomas knew he’d never allow anyone to marry her off like a piece of property.

  Deep down, Thomas knew he’d marry her to save her from her uncle and the gambler—even if this wasn’t the path he would have chosen for his own life.

  Copyright © 2016 by Rhonda Gibson

  ISBN-13: 9781488008153

  Wed on the Wagon Train

  Copyright © 2016 by Tracy Blalock

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