The Express Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  Carl flipped through the stack and looked at them. They were good; he’d give the guy that. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “And you as well. Now where’s my money?” The man puffed on his cigar like a baby sucking his thumb.

  Shoving a potato sack filled with coins toward the obese and uncouth man, Carl allowed a smile to slide onto his face. “Have a lovely day.” He put the notes into his satchel and left the building. In just a few days, he’d be done with this whole mess and would have everything he’d ever wanted. Let the rest of the world scrounge around and work their fingers to the bone. He preferred the lifestyle of the rich. In a country where no one could touch him for all the heinous deeds he’d done here. All he needed was money. And he now had that in generous supply.

  Now all he had to do was visit the tailor and pick up his custom-made clothing.

  The rest was too easy.

  November 7, 1860

  Mr. William Russell

  Mr. William Waddell

  Mr. Alexander Majors

  Gentlemen,

  I’m writing this letter to inform you that by withholding information from you, I wasn’t honest. I signed my name “Jack Rivers” on my last correspondence to you because that is what Dad always called me and I was uncertain you would allow me to continue on as station manager. But, sirs, my name is Jacqueline. I’m a woman. I run the stage way station and the Pony Express station here in Carson Sink.

  I apologize for my actions.

  Sincerely,

  Jacqueline “Jack” Rivers

  Putting her pen down, Jackie reread the note and wondered if she should have begged them to keep her job. The fact of the matter was she’d deceived them and had to be honest. Whatever action they took at this point, she would have to live with their decision. If they decided she wasn’t fit to run the station, perhaps she could suggest Tom Liverpool or even Michael. She could allow for the Express to continue to use her facilities, and maybe over time she could show the owners of the COC&PP that she was honorable and trustworthy.

  She felt guilty every time she thought about how she’d misled them. Once trust was lost, it was often impossible to earn it back. She hated to think that might be the case, but she’d have to face the consequences of her actions.

  With a deep breath, she tried to clear her mind. She picked up her mother’s journal and decided to read a little more to get her mind off her problems.

  March 3, 1835

  Dearest Jacqueline,

  I’m afraid today’s entry might be short because you are, quite frankly, into everything you can get to and your naps have been so brief lately that I have a feeling my moments of quiet will soon be over.

  But it’s all worth it to see your sweet, smiling face. I hate to think of you growing up so fast, but I have vowed to cherish every moment.

  What I really wanted to tell you today is that you still have other family around. I have a distant cousin—Caroline Weber—who lives in California. She married a man named Horatio Livingston quite a few years ago, and some time before we left St. Louis, I’d heard that she had a little girl and named her Olivia. So that means you have other family—a cousin! Olivia would be a few years older than you, but not much.

  I have to admit, I’ve been afraid to contact Caroline and let her know where I am just in case your father decides to look for us there. But I do long to see her again and connect with family. She’s all I have left other than you.

  We used to write letters to each other when we were young. My mother, your grandmother, always loved to look into her ancestry and would often try to find other relatives since hergreat-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Lytton, came over on the Mayflower. I’ll never forget the day she heard back from Caroline’s mother, Elizabeth, and then told me about my cousin. We wrote letters for years.

  Well, I hear your little voice calling for me, so I’d better finish for now. I’ll write more tomorrow.

  Love,

  Mama

  Jackie shut the book and found herself smiling at the thought of a cousin to connect with. But how could she go about finding Olivia Livingston? Surely she’d be married by now. And Mama didn’t write anything about where in California.

  Maybe once she finished this job for the Treasury, Mr. Crowell might have connections who could help find her cousin. As she pulled out another sheet of paper, she shifted her thoughts back to her letter to Russell, Waddell, and Majors. She’d done the right thing. Now she needed to move forward. If she sent out a response to Mr. Crowell on the Express this afternoon, she could head to Virginia City in the morning and deliver his message to this Mr. Williamson.

  Jackie finished a quick response to Mr. Crowell and prepared the two missives for the Express. With a glance to the clock she sighed. The day was almost gone already and she had so much to do to finish up dinner.

  November 8, 1860

  As the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, Jackie mounted her horse, Romeo, and looked down at Michael. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I just need to deliver this message for Mr. Crowell and I’ll come straight back.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Elijah has everything he needs, and I’ll handle the morning Express. The fellas won’t like my cooking, but I can even handle lunch if I have to.”

  With a laugh, Jackie leaned over and tousled his hair. “Thanks. Just make sure you clean up my kitchen.”

  “I make no promises.”

  “Let’s go, Romeo.” With her gentle words, the massive horse took off like a lightning bolt.

  Over the years, she’d trained him with that phrase whenever she’d let him have his head. And her horse loved to run. It had been entirely too long since she’d taken him out for a good long run. Well, today he’d get some exercise. Perhaps she could stop at the general store and see if they had any apples. Romeo loved that treat. Part of the reason she’d begged Dad to plant apple trees was so she could feed them to her horse. He’d told her it was a bit ridiculous and far-fetched to think that they could grow apples out here, but he’d ordered them for her anyway.

  Thoughts of Dad made her heart cinch. Biting her lip, she ordered her tears to stop, but one escaped despite her command.

  The cold wind whipped at her face and her braid, but she’d always loved the cold weather. Thankfully, they hadn’t had any snow yet, but the temperatures had definitely dropped.

  Dad always teased her about running outside without a coat. What would he say to her now? Riding at breakneck speed with only her red wool shawl around her. He’d probably tell her that she’d catch her death, shake his head, and race her to the next boulder.

  Slowing Romeo down to a canter, she lifted her eyes to the sky. Lord, thank You for the sweet memories. Thank You for giving me Marshall Rivers as my dad and for all the years I had with him. I know I haven’t been handling all this news too well, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for everything I had. But Father, I need Your wisdom for the coming days. Help me to forgive this man I’ve just found out is my real father. And guide me in my friendship with Elijah.

  Praying for Elijah brought his face to mind. Never could she have imagined that her world would completely change in the month since he stepped off the stage. He’d become her friend, and she couldn’t deny that she hoped for much more. All the romantic dreams she’d had over the years about getting married and having a family—they melded into oneimage, and it was Elijah’s face she saw.

  But questions niggled at the back of her brain. He was close to Mr. Vines. Would his seeming interest in her right now be real if she wasn’t Mr. Vines’s daughter?

  She fancied herself in love. But was it real? Everything she’d thought was real before was false. What if Elijah decided that she wasn’t good enough for him? He was from the city and obviously used to fine things and amenities. Would he continue to work himself to the bone like he had before?

  All this time to herself made her
thoughts spin. Gracious, she could make herself mad with all the questions.

  “Romeo, there are times that I wish I was like you.”

  Her horse lifted his head and huffed.

  “Life would be so much simpler if I could just run and not have to think about all the problems.”

  He jerked his head and the reins as if to say, Let’s run.

  “All right, boy. You’re right. Maybe we do just need to run.”

  Pushing her feet deeper into the stirrups, she lifted herself off the saddle and let Romeo fly.

  When they made it to Virginia City, her hair was windswept, but the smile on her face couldn’t be wiped away. She felt such simple joy riding a magnificent animal like Romeo.

  After finding the home of Mr. Williamson, she knocked on the door.

  An impeccably dressed man answered and raised his eyebrows at her. “How may I help you?”

  “Mr. Williamson, I believe we have a mutual friend.”

  “Oh?” The gentleman eyed her warily. “And you are?”

  “Miss Rivers.”

  He tilted his head as his lips turned up into a small smile. “And our mutual friend?”

  “Mr. Crowell.” She lifted her chin a notch. “He works for the secretary of the treasury of the United States.”

  “Ah, yes. Mr. Crowell.” The man gave her a full smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He allowed her entrance. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have a message for you from him.”

  “Please. Have a seat.” He gestured toward a chair.

  “Thank you.” She smoothed her hair back and realized she should have replaited it before meeting this man.

  His fine attire and perfectly polished shoes made her feel quite out of place.

  “You said you had a message?” He took a seat behind his desk.

  “Yes, of course. The message is, ‘Sacramento is ready.’”

  “Ah …” The man blinked several times and looked down at a stack of papers on his desk. Straightening them, he pursed his lips. “That’s good to know.”

  Since she was here, she might as well do a little more of her work for Mr. Crowell. And Mr. Williamson was supposed to be a trusted contact. “I’d also like to ask you a question.”

  “Go ahead.” The man’s expression was hard to read. The message from Crowell must have had quite an impact.

  “Several of my acquaintances have informed me that they’ve been paid in government treasury notes and they’ve cashed those notes here in Virginia City.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I’m wondering if they’ve come through this office?”

  His face went blank for a moment. Then he blinked. “This office? Let me check.” He opened a drawer and shuffled through it.

  “Yes, sir.” Jackie put on her best smile. Finally some progress. “Thank you for your help. It seems I’ve hit one snag after another. Especially after the horrible stage accident.”

  “Such a shame those two men were killed.”

  “Oh, only the driver was killed. The other man is recovering.”

  The man’s head popped up, and he closed the drawer with a slam. “I’m sorry to say I can’t help you.”

  “Why not? You just said—”

  “I didn’t say anything. I just guessed about your question.” The man stood and walked around his desk. Taking her hand, he pulled her up to stand and began escorting her toward the door.

  “But … Mr. Williamson.”

  His grabbed her arm.

  “Unhand me, sir!”

  The grip on her arm tightened. “I will do no such thing, Miss Rivers, and if I were you, I’d go back to my home and stop being so suspicious and nosy.”

  “How dare you?” She turned and put her hands on her hips.

  “Mind your own business, woman.” The man sneered, the gentle facade gone. “And don’t come back.”

  Shoved out through the door, Jackie felt the door slam behind her. What was that all about? The man had seemed so nice at first, but then she’d delivered the message and asked him about the notes and his whole demeanor changed. What could it mean?

  Her skin crawled from how the man had spoken to her. And he was supposed to be a trusted friend of Mr. Crowell? Perhaps that wasn’t true.

  November 8, 1860

  Elijah woke with a start. His leg felt like it was burning. What time was it? Light poured in through the window, so he knew it was daytime, but no one was around. Should he call for someone?

  Deciding it was high time he tried to do something for himself, he shifted his leg off the bed and grabbed for the chair. Maybe he could use it to pull himself up.

  The room spun as pain shot through his bad leg. What was going on? It hadn’t felt like this yesterday. He’d just been so tired.

  Determined to get up, he used all of his arm strength to pull himself up to stand on his good leg. But as soon as he was out of the bed, spots danced in front of his eyes. “Jackie…,” he called, but then everything went black.

  A wet cloth was on his face. Elijah yanked at it and opened his eyes. Mrs. Liverpool, Mark, and Michael all hovered over him. “What happened?”“Apparently you were trying to get up by yourself and took quite a tumble.” Mrs. Liverpool gave him a sharp look. “Now, you won’t be trying that again, will you?”

  “Where’s Jackie?” It was odd that she wouldn’t be here. Especially after their talk yesterday.

  “She went to Virginia City. She should be back soon,” Michael answered.

  For some reason, that response made him very anxious. But everything seemed fuzzy. “Why … why did she go?”

  “Said she had some message from Mr. Crowell for a Mr. Williamson.” He shrugged.

  Clarity rushed over him as his ears started to ring. “Why didn’t she tell me?” Everything he’d witnessed in Virginia City made his heart race. He couldn’t let Jackie see Williamson.

  “Jack can take care of herself. She’ll probably get back and give you quite a scolding for trying to get out of bed by yourself.”

  “I’m sure she can, but you don’t understand. I don’t think Williamson is who he says he is.” The spots were back in front of his eyes, and his ears roared. “She could … be in … danger.”

  Michael was out to meet her when Jackie arrived back at the station. The expression on his face told her something wasn’t right.

  She dismounted and looked at him. “What’s going on? You look like you have bad news.”

  “Elijah tried to get up while you were gone. He passed out, and his leg is burning up to the touch. He keeps asking for you, but he’s not making much sense.”

  “Take care of Romeo?”

  “Sure.”

  She ran inside and went straight to Elijah’s room, where June sat in the chair next to him, bathing his forehead and neck.

  “He’s got quite a fever, Jackie. I’m afraid there’s a problem with his leg. He needs a doctor.”

  Jackie nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. She touched his forehead and wanted to cry at how hot it was to the touch. “Have you sent for the doctor?”

  “Not yet. It’s been a little crazy around here this morning. The boys are racing around to prepare the station so they can head out in the wagon. Mr. Liverpool says a storm is coming, and we’re running low on supplies.”

  Closing her eyes, she scolded herself for not staying on top of everything. But with everyone taking turns to sit with Elijah along with performing their normal tasks, she’d neglected one of the most important things—making sure they were prepared for the winter. They all knew it was coming, but she’d been so worried about Elijah. Now it was uponthem. “I’ve got a list I’ve been meaning to take to town. It’s on the desk by the ledger.”

  “Good.” June stood and patted her shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. They’ll have plenty of time to grab supplies after they get word to the doctor. I’ll give you a few minutes with Mr. Johnson, and I’ll go get your list just in case you need to add anything to it.
”

  She placed her hand on Elijah’s cheek.

  His eyes fluttered open, but they looked glazed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Virginia City … it’s too dangerous.”

  “Shh, don’t worry about it now. You need to rest. We’re sending for the doctor.”

  His eyes closed but then his hand came up and gripped her wrist. “The sheriff … he knows. Sanders … shot.”

  The words puzzled her. Who was Sanders? “I’m not sure I understand, Elijah.”

  His grip remained on her wrist, and his eyes opened again. “I couldn’t bear … if anything … to you …” His hand dropped back to his side. “Because I love … you.”

  The last words were such a shock that all she could do was stare at him.

  After sending Michael and John out with the wagon to fetch the doctor and get supplies, Jackie went straight back to Elijah’s side. Ever since he’d told her that he loved her, he hadn’t spoken another word or come around again. Worry built in her gut. She desperately wanted to hear his voice again.

  Lord, I don’t know what to do, but I’m begging You to please heal Elijah. Please.

  She laid her forehead on the bed and let the tears come. Too many things had happened lately. There’d been too much loss. So much upheaval. Yet God was here in the midst. Just like they’d studied in Daniel, even ifshe were in the fiery furnace, He was there.

  The pounding of hooves sounded outside. Timothy had already left on the afternoon Express. Who could that be?

  She squeezed Elijah’s hand and ran out the front.

  As the horse and rider approached, she recognized Mark immediately. But something was wrong.

  He reined in the horse and came to a halt, then almost fell off the horse.

  “Mark! What’s happened?” His coat was covered in blood.

  Getting her shoulder up under him, she wrapped his arm around her neck and helped him inside.

  A cough shook his whole frame. “The Express … it’s got to get to San Francisco.”