[2016] Widow Finds Love

by Christian Michael

  Chapter Two

  After Wendel’s funeral, Laura had some hard decisions to make. Wendel hadn’t had a job for some time and what little money he had picked up here and there, he lost or drank away. He had disgraced himself and wasn’t welcome in any gentleman’s club or even in private homes. Laura had picked up a little money on the side herself, but she’d put it away for the baby’s needs. Babies weren’t cheap.

  She counted the bills and coins in the tin now and realized there wasn’t enough to keep things running much longer. She felt the baby kick just then, as if urging her to do something. What can I do? she thought to herself. She had no family and Wendel’s only sibling, a brother, lived somewhere in Texas and she had no idea how to even get a message to him about Wendel’s death.

  There really weren’t any jobs in town for a woman, much less a woman who was expecting. She wasn’t sleeping well; the worry was making her even more sickly than the strain of carrying a baby. She began to have a dreaded fear that if something didn’t change, and quickly, she’d lose the baby altogether.

  To raise her spirits, she got dressed and walked slowly down the street toward the café on the corner. There, she ordered a cup of coffee and watched the waitresses bustling about, their apron pockets jingling with the change from tips. The atmosphere was sparse; it was the sort of place meant for the working class. She was fairly sure that at one time or another, one of those ladies in aprons had known a similar dire set of circumstances.

  “Here you go,” came the cheery delivery of her coffee order. “Anythin’ else?” The woman’s face was kind, almost genial in a mothering sort of way.

  Laura took a chance. “Well, I know this is very unusual, but you see I’m in a bit of a fix,” she began, her hand inadvertently going to cover her tummy.

  “Ahhh, I see. Kiss and gone, eh?” said the waitress, nodding with a knowing look in her eye.

  “No, no…nothing like that. I’m widowed, you see,” Laura began. “My name is Laura Tyler and my husband was shot last week…” she continued.

  “Lidie’s my name,” said the waitress and looking back toward the kitchen, she pulled out the chair opposite Laura and sat down, the coffee pot still in her hand. She leaned forward, “I know who you are…I’m sorry. We all heard. A few of us even…even…” she blushed, “knew him,” she finished. Hurriedly she added, “He came in here a lot to drink coffee and sober up, if you know what I mean,” she went on.

  Laura nodded sadly. “Yes, I can imagine. But you see, he didn’t leave me with anything, in fact there’s a bit of debt. I have a baby coming,” she paused and touched her tummy again, “and I’m looking for work. Is there any chance someone here could use me? Maybe to wash dishes in the back, somewhere that I’d be out of sight?”

  Lidie frowned, pushing away a lock of dyed red hair that had fallen over her forehead. “No, honey, not a thing. We’re all scrappin’ here, if you know what I mean.” She felt sorry for Laura. At least the women here weren’t expecting. Suddenly she had an idea. “Look, wait right here!” she jumped up and soon returned with a newspaper. Opening it, she found what she was looking for and folded the paper in half, pointing to an ad in the classifieds section. “Read that, honey. It might be the only thing you can do.” With that she returned to the kitchen and Laura was left alone to read the classified for her fate.

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks later found Laura perched on the worn velvet seat of a train coach, bound for Colorado. In her hands was a crumpled newspaper, an ad circled and notes written in the margin.

  Laura thought she would be ill; she was so nervous. Lidie had changed her life; and that of her unborn child. The newspaper had displayed an ad for mail order brides. Women were rare in the West and plentiful in the East. Thus, a booming industry had sprung up to fill the need and that’s what brought Laura to where she sat at that very moment.

  She had responded to the ad immediately and included a photo; in fact, it was her half of the wedding photo, the only photo she owned of herself. The reply was quick in coming—a telegraph came within a few weeks and included a money order for her fare, travel expenses and a small allowance for clothing. Laura had sold everything she had to settle Wendel’s debts and boarded the train for the West. At some point midway, she would transfer to a coach, for the train went no further west.

  In her hand was also a photo of the man who would become her new husband. His name was Rory Newton and she could tell even in the worn photo that he was a fine figure of a man. Nevertheless, Rory had attached a letter to his offer and stressed that he was not necessarily only looking for a wife, but for a helpmate to tend to the house, cook, do the laundry and who had some knowledge of chickens and gardening.

  This was not a dishonorable, or even unusual situation for women who were no longer “fresh off the vine.” These women were generally decent, widowed or never married and sometimes had a young child or two. They had been left with few options to provide for themselves and the Western men had need of a helpmate to keep their farm and homestead going. Thus, it was more of a business arrangement, even though marriage would be involved for propriety’s sake.

  Laura tried to nap, knowing that once she was on the coach, it would be very difficult to sleep. Sleep was long in coming, however. The train pulled into a small station and Laura noticed a man making his way down the aisle and took a seat directly opposite her. He nodded and removed his hat in respect.

  “Ma’am,” he murmured.

  Laura nodded.

  He settled his luggage beneath his seat and put his hat back on and pulled it down low over his brow to block and light and activity going on around him. This gave Laura a chance to surreptitiously look him over. He was tall, well over six feet, and most of his height was in his legs. His clothing was neat and well-made, but his hands were rough. This was not a businessman; of that she was certain. Laura had noticed that he was cleanly shaven and tanned and knew that meant he probably worked out of doors. She could feel herself blush at her thoughts. He must have felt her eyes on him for he quietly said, “Name’s Dallas; Ben Dallas.”

  Laura knew it wasn’t proper to strike up a conversation with a strange man, particularly if one was travelling alone, but her position in the social rankings had fallen dramatically as of late and she knew that as a mail order bride, she had entered a new low. However, it would be a long trip and she could use some company to steady her nerves.

  “I’m Laura Tyler, Mr. Dallas. It’s a pleasure,” she leaned forward and extended her lace-gloved hand.

  As she leaned forward, Ben couldn’t help but notice her neckline and the way the thin gold chain with a tiny locket lay in the crevice between her bosom. He felt stirred by this…and it was a feeling he hadn’t felt for some time. He found it rather pleasant.

  He tipped the brim of his hat. “Miss Tyler,” he acknowledged.

  “Mrs. Tyler,” she quickly corrected him, her hand going inadvertently to the rise in her tummy.

  Ben noticed the gesture and even though her skirts were full, he could see what she protected. It generated a protective sense within himself at the same time. Where is all this coming from? he wondered. Is it that blue-black hair or those sapphire eyes?

  Laura was unaware of his scrutiny and wondered just how far she might take their conversation before she was truly “inappropriate.” She hesitated only a moment before asking, “Going far?” She immediately blushed at the implication her question could have inspired, but Ben seemed content to answer.

  “Near Denver, eventually. Will switch to the stage where the rail ends,” he explained.

  Laura’s eyebrows raised. “What a coincidence! I’m going to Denver, too!”

  “Is that so?” he answered, and smiled.

  Laura felt something akin to relief that maybe she would have a pseudo travelling companion. Even though this man was an absolute stranger, she had to admit that she liked his attitude and she could have certainly ended up sitting across from someone far less de
sirable. She settled back with a soft smile on her face and now relaxed, fell promptly asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Laura was jostled awake and almost slid to the floor. Ben leapt forward to catch her, lifting her carefully back into her seat.

  She pushed the curls back from her face and whispered, “Thank you,” to him and then blushed a bit at the sensations his arms left behind.

  “My pleasure,” he said softly and smiled. “I think the rail is blocked by a small herd of cattle,” he said with some authority.

  “Really?” Laura was baffled. “How can you tell from here?”

  Ben pointed out the window. You can see their hoof prints in the mud. Probably was a route for a cattle drive years ago—these are probably strays that broke away. Cattle remember that sort of thing,” he added.

  Laura nodded and conjectured whether this meant he had been a man with cattle at some point. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “You’ve only been asleep an hour,” he told her. “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded and reached for her bag.

  “Here, allow me,” he said and stood up. “There’s a dining car a few cars down. I’ll bring you somethin’ back.”

  “Oh!” she said, thinking of her finances. She wasn’t prepared for the prices the dining car would likely charge.

  Ben held his hand up. “No, no, you’re my guest,” he assured her. His tweed vest expanded as he stood fully and his chest took in a deep breath. Laura’s eyes grew large and his misinterpreted this.

  “Don’t worry none. I can easily handle it.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’m grateful,” she said softly and Ben thought he would drown in her deep blue eyes. Her pregnancy put a glow on her cheeks and the effect made his knees weak.

  He tipped his hat and left the car, returning a while later with a waiter bearing a massive tray. The waiter set up the try between their facing seats and Ben waved him away and removed the covers himself. Beneath was a delicious assortment of sliced meats, broiled potatoes, three different vegetables, and a platter of pastries. “This,” Ben held forth a glass of white milk, “is for you, my dear.” She smiled in gratitude, attempting to ignore the familiar tone of his reference and began picking at the banquet he had brought.

  Night had fallen and Ben was stretching. Laura smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m sleepy, too,” she commented.

  “Good, because part two of your surprise is about to take place.”

  Laura was instantly on alert. Surprise? Sleeping? She didn’t think she liked the sound of all that.

  “It’s not what you might fear,” he said. “I happen to have booked a sleeping berth and I insist you take it and I will bunk here,” Ben said, motioning to the seats they occupied.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly,” Laura said, protesting.

  “No room for argument,” he commented, holding up his hand. “Here, let me help you find it,” Ben said.

  Laura thought of the baby and then of the long stage ride ahead. She should think of the child. “I accept and it’s most generous,” she said, acquiescing and following him down the aisle of the car.

  Chapter Five

  Ben escorted Laura back to the sleeping berth and helped her climb into it and waited to see if there was anything she needed. “I’m fine – this is so generous. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she asked.

  “Just fine, ma’am” he assured her and the concern in her voice touched his heart. This woman is something very special, he thought to himself. He ambled down the aisle and returned to their seats where he folded himself sideways and covered up with his jacket.

  Laura settled in and was fast asleep. Throughout the night she heard the conductor quietly collecting chamber pots, of which she was very glad. Ladies who were carrying had need of these, quite often.

  The next morning, she dressed and put her shoes on before throwing open the curtain of the berth. There, to her great amazement, was Ben, sleeping on the floor next to her berth. He had plastered himself sideways against the bottom of her bunk so as not to obscure the aisle, but he was guarding her. Of that there could be no doubt. The noise of her throwing open the curtains awakened him.

  “Sleep well?” he asked her in a rumbling, early-morning voice, sliding the hat back on that had covered his face through the night.

  “I feel so guilty! What are you doing down there on the floor?” she asked him, concern in her voice.

  He was admiring her dark curls once again and the way sleepiness puffed her face just enough to make her look extremely kissable.

  “Don’t worry about me none,” he chuckled. “I’ve spent more than my share of nights on the ground during cattle drives,” he added and this underscored what Laura had suspected all along. He stood, slapped the imagined dust off his thighs and held out his crooked arm. “M’lady? May I escort you to breakfast?” he asked in a most romantic voice.

  Laura smiled and took his offer. She was thrilled that he had watched over her in the night but didn’t understand why he was doing it. Certainly he could see she was with child and he must realize that she wouldn’t be travelling alone forever. He must know she had a destination and a plan. She thought of her groom-to-be and felt instantly guilty. This wasn’t fair to him, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. Anyway, she reasoned with herself, he would appreciate someone looking after me.

  After breakfast they went back to their seats and spent the day playing gin rummy and Ben pointed out landmarks and interesting facts about the scenery as they chugged by. Laura had to admit that she’d never been West and this was all so new and strange. She found she was enjoying herself immensely and more than once, she caught him staring at her face; which made her blush.

  People on the train passed by with regularity. Some were headed to the dining cars, others to stand on the jiggling platforms between cars to enjoy a cigar or spit tobacco outside the ladies’ presence. As the afternoon drew forward toward night, another couple stopped and asked if they would like to join them for dinner and perhaps some cards afterwards. Ben looked to Laura, who nodded enthusiastically. She loved the idea of meeting new people and even more so, the idea of being considered a “couple” with Ben. She brushed aside any guilt she was feeling and told herself this was a once in a lifetime arrangement. Soon enough she would be knee-deep in hogs and chickens with laundry waiting to be scrubbed down at the stream. Just this once she wanted to make the most of her opportunity.

  “We’re the Lanigans, Tricia and Gerald,” the woman said as she led the way toward the dining car.

  “I’m Laura and this is Ben,” Laura provided somewhat weakly. She hoped the omission of last names wouldn’t be noticed. If it was, Tricia never blinked an eye and she had Laura’s undying gratitude for the oversight.

  They dined on lobster and new potatoes, freshly-steamed green beans and chocolate cake. Laura stuck to water while the others drank champagne. Once the meal was finished, the waiter cleared away the table as the men went briefly to the smoking platform and the ladies began to chatter.

  “So, when are you due?” Tricia asked, “if it’s not too personal.”

  Laura blushed. “By my count, in about four months,” she supplied and quickly changed the subject. “Have you been West before?” she asked.

  “Oh, my, yes. We live there part of the year. Outside Denver.”

  Is everyone on this train heading for Denver wondered Laura.

  “That’s odd, that’s where I, that is, we, are headed as well,” Laura provisioned and was relieved that it wasn’t a lie, but just a little misleading.

  Laura looked at Tricia’s elegant silk gown and the jewels that glittered on her fingers and in her hair. It was apparent that they had money and Laura felt dull and clumsy by comparison. Tricia seemed to pick up on this a bit and said, “You’ll be feeling ever so much better after the baby is born,” she comforted her. “You’ll be able to wear all your wardrobe again and your woman’s body will return to normal…except better!” she win
ked at Laura.

  The men returned then and they played a few hands of gin, spending more of their time talking and laughing than paying attention to their cards. The waiter returned regularly and refilled their glasses. Laura began to yawn and Ben got the message. He stood, signaling an end to their evening.

  “It’s been grand,” he said, holding up his glass in toast and then emptying it before setting it firmly down on the table. “Night to all,” he said and held out his bent arm to Laura, who took it gratefully.

  He escorted her to the berth and was about to continue on when she protested. “No, really, Ben. This rightfully belongs to you. I wouldn’t feel right about taking it a second night!”

  “Nonsense,” he said, his eyes glittering with warmth and a bit too much champagne. “You climb in and get comfy…I insist.”

  Reluctantly, Laura acquiesced once more and again in the morning, she found him sleeping guard duty at the side of her berth. Somehow it was beginning to feel almost normal and she felt a pang that it would soon end.

  Their train pulled into the station that afternoon and they disembarked. Coincidentally, she and Ben were to share the same stage going westward, and much to Laura’s surprise, the Lanigans were aboard as well.

  Laura had been dreading this portion of the journey; she knew the roads would be rough and there was always the danger of Indians or robbers along the way. Even the weather could pose a danger when there was no cover or the roads became mired with heavy mud. She was willing to brave it, however. She had no other options.

  The trip began happily enough with the group singing songs and the men telling stories of their boyhood exploits. This drew amused glances from Tricia; she had heard Gerald’s all before and each year they grew in mischief. When Laura was asked to join in, she demurred. “I’ve had a boring life,” she supplied and looked away. No one questioned her; they respected her privacy.