The Brides of Chance Collection

by Kelly Eileen Hake,Cathy Marie Hake,Tracey V. Bateman

Lovejoy Spencer set down her battered canvas valise and carefully unhinged the troublesome brass clasp. She’d expected Silk to kick up a fuss. The strap securing her dulcimer to her back slashed taut across her bosom as she crouched, but the real tightness in her chest came from thinking the whole arrangement might fall apart if Silk didn’t cooperate. Drawing a jar from the valise, Lovejoy whispered, “Lord, have mercy and let this work.”

  After rising and taking a step closer, she held out her offering. “Blackberry jam, Miz Silk—my special recipe. I reckon it’ll take away a wee bit of the bitterness of the day. Each time you spread a dab on that delicious bread of yourn, you cain think on how you’ve sent yore nieces off to a better life.”

  Silk’s tears miraculously stopped. Her eyes narrowed. “You think a half-pint’s all the both of them are worth?”

  “All the gold in heaven wouldn’t begin to buy such fine young gals,” Lovejoy responded without hesitation. “Fact is, I’m not buying them. Jesus ransomed their souls from Lucifer.”

  “Glory be!” Silk let go of the doorjamb and lifted her hands in praise.

  “And there’s not a body in all of Salt Lick Holler who doesn’t know you’ve done right by Eunice and Lois. The MacPhersons from up at Hawk’s Fall remembered them and honored your family by sending a bridal offer.”

  Tempy stepped up and nodded. “My sister’s right, Miz Silk. Why, everyone here in Salt Lick and folks clear up at Hawk’s Fall are all going to ponder on what a wondrous thing you did, rearing Eunice and Lois so the MacPhersons kept pining after them even after moving clear across the country.”

  It took considerable effort for Lovejoy to keep from flashing her baby sister a smile. At eighteen, Tempy was smart as a whip. If she tried, the girl could likely charm a snake into a knot. From the way Silk perked up, Lovejoy knew her sister had hit the right note.

  She chimed in, “Abner MacPherson set all of Salt Lick into a dither when he rode over from Hawk’s Fall to deliver the greenbacks. His boys have been sending money home regular-like and still had enough to buy not one, but three train tickets. Bucks like them could snap up any woman, but they picked your nieces.”

  “Now it’s a fact, they did,” Silk granted.

  “That’s sayin’ plenty,” Lovejoy continued. “They’re bright young women, and you’ve always done what’s best for them.”

  Silk let out a woebegone sigh. “You truly aim to go along, Lovejoy Spencer? I don’t want my girls out in that wild world on their own.”

  “I give you my word. I’ll travel the whole way. They’ll be married right and tight to good men who’ll provide well for them.”

  Silk nodded. “I reckon that’s the best a body could hope for.” The minute she plodded out of the doorway, Eunice and Lois hustled out with a trunk betwixt themselves. Pa didn’t get down from the buckboard to help, but no one really expected him to. Lovejoy and Tempy helped hoist the trunk onto the wagon bed; then hugs, kisses, and the blackberry jam were traded. They all piled on, and Pa drove them to the pass.

  Not a yard went by that Lovejoy didn’t study with a mixture of sadness and joy. Spring brought a bounty of healing yarbs. As a healer, Lovejoy knew a wealth of uses for each plant. Smelly as they were, the wild leeks they called ramps could cure many a complaint. Coltsfoot, teaberry, burdock—each belonged in her healing arsenal. Gathering as much as she could of those and dozens upon dozens of other plants in these last few weeks, Lovejoy hoped she’d stored up enough for when she returned.

  And she would return to the raw beauty of Kentucky. But she’d be leaving her beloved baby sister clear off in Californy. ’Tis a good life a-waitin’ her. I’ll dwell on that thought.

  The train wasn’t supposed to stop at the pass. Then again, once a week Pa just happened to be sitting there waiting. He’d hand up jugs of moonshine, empty jugs got passed back down, and he’d leave with a smile and a pocketful of cash money.

  Last week he’d arranged for the girls to ride clear across these United States to San Francisco, then for the stage ride to Reliable where the MacPhersons lived. He’d groused at the cost as if he’d paid for the tickets himself. When Lovejoy announced she was going as a chaperone, he flatly refused to pay for her.

  She’d not given in, though.

  Her baby sister was about to be a bride. So were Eunice and Lois. The MacPherson brothers had written a letter asking the three gals to come out and do them the honor of becoming their wives. Truth was, Lovejoy determined to go along regardless of the cost. These young gals weren’t going to marry up with the MacPhersons unless the men passed her muster.

  She’d been bound in a marriage that brought nothing but misery. Long as she drew breath, she refused to let Tempy—or any gal—get roped into matrimony if all it would become was a noose.

  Being a widow woman of the ripe age of four-and-twenty, Lovejoy didn’t answer to any man. Added to that, she owned a small place and was a trained granny-woman. Folks came to her for all sorts of other healing, too. Chickens, cheese, a bottle of molasses—her patients paid however and whatever they could afford. Hardscrabble as they lived, it amounted to precious little. That being the case, the notion that Tempy, Eunice, and Lois might have a better life out in Californy made Lovejoy pry up the floorboard and pull out the precious stash of coins she kept in a coffee can for a rainy day.

  Stooped with age, Widow Hendricks reckoned she’d be able to fill in for a season as the healer—seein’ as that season would be warm and dry. With the dear Lord providing enough money for Lovejoy to make the trip and someone to tend the folks back home, she felt certain it was His will for her to go.

  When Pa realized he’d not stop her, he’d gone off and gotten roostered on his own ’shine. Years ago, Lovejoy had Tempy move in with her, and Pa had a habit of showing up at suppertime more often than not. His other daughters—married and up to their hips in young’uns—never had a place for him at their tables. Lovejoy’s only rule was that she wouldn’t open her door to him if he was drunk. He’d shown up that night reeking of the devil’s brew and making wild threats. If anything, that only strengthened her resolve. Lovejoy wanted her sister away from this.

  Now at the pass, Pa jerked the trunk and satchels off the wagon—more out of the need to reach his moonshine than to be a gentleman. He lined up the jugs and helped himself to a stiff belt of who-hit-John from the flask he habitually carried. “You oughtn’t tag along,” he said to Lovejoy.

  Her stomach roiled when she caught a whiff of his fetid breath. She dug in her heels. “Mama put Tempy under my wing back on the day she was born.”

  “Your ma woulda done better to give me sons ’stead of a passel of girls.” He took another swig.

  “I know you loved her in your own way, Pa. God rest her soul, Mama loved you back.” Mama had turned a blind eye to Pa’s still because it was the only way they could put food on the table. By the time Lovejoy was sixteen, Pa married her off to Vern Spencer. Jug-bit men did foolish things, and both Pa and Vern did their share of drinking. Lovejoy still believed Pa was a good man when he wasn’t drinking; just two days after Vern took her to wife, she knew she couldn’t say the same for him. The four years of marriage that followed felt like forty.

  The metal rail by Lovejoy’s toe started to vibrate. “Train’ll be here in a minute.”

  Pa nodded. The train always moved slowly through the winding hills and hollers, so stopping wasn’t all that difficult. Once it came to a standstill, he held the gals back. “First things first.” He took care of his illegal business transaction, then let them board the train. He wiped a tear from his weathered cheek after he gave Tempy a bear hug and lifted her onto the train steps. Lovejoy stepped forward, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a kiss, too.

  “You really goin’ through with this foolish plan of yourn?” he whispered gruffly.

  “I’ve gotta, Pa.”

  “Then go.” He crammed real paper money into her hand and shoved her onto the train.

  Chance Ranch, Reliable, California
>
  “Pretty as a princess,” Daniel Chance recited as he pulled his comb through little Polly’s hair. “Your mama was pretty as can be. Hair as soft and light as a moonbeam.”

  “Just like mine,” his daughter said gleefully.

  Polly never tired of hearing about her mama, and Dan wanted his daughters to grow up knowing what an extraordinary woman she’d been. It was part of their morning ritual, and it gave Daniel an opportunity to cherish his memories and pass them along. Just after the birth of their second daughter, Hannah passed on and took most of his heart with her. What little was left, he devoted entirely to his daughters.

  Daniel continued to comb the waves left by her nighttime braids. One of his sistersin-law would plait Polly’s hair after breakfast. His big hands were made for chopping wood and branding cattle—not for braiding cornsilk-fine hair on a wiggly four-year-old.

  “Mama in heben.” Two-year-old Ginny Mae curled her toes on the cold floor and leaned into him for warmth.

  “Yes. Mama’s in heaven.” Dan strove to keep his tone even. “Polly, go get your shoes and socks. Bring Ginny’s, too.”

  Polly scampered through the “hall” to the adjoining cabin. The Chance brothers had connected the two cabins so Daniel would have sufficient space. He’d refused to move out of the little cabin he and his beloved Hannah shared, but it grew far too cramped with the girls’ bed. They didn’t have enough room to turn around without tripping over something or bumping into each other. The girls’ cabin boasted a loft and a bit more room, but more important, it had a potbellied stove so it stayed warmer.

  Daniel pulled Ginny Mae onto his lap and warmed her tiny feet in his hands.“Piggy, Daddy!”

  “This little piggy went to market….”

  Polly came back carrying Ginny’s shoes and one sock and wearing her own shoes on the wrong feet. “Sissy gots only one sock, Daddy. I can’t find the other one.”

  Daniel grimaced. Ginny had had an accident last evening, and he’d intended to wash out the wet sock. Somehow he’d gotten distracted. “She’ll wear one today.”

  Polly fidgeted as he slipped the sock and first shoe on her sister. Suddenly, she pointed at Ginny Mae’s feet and sing-songed, “Diddle, diddle dumplin’, my son John, went to bed with his trousers on.”

  “I a girl,” Ginny protested. “I no wear tr’srs.”

  “One shoe off and one shoe on,” Polly sang louder.

  “She has both shoes on now.” Daniel stood and set her down. He took a moment to make his bed—not because he thought it important, but if he didn’t, Miriam, Alisa, or Delilah would do it. He didn’t want his sisters-in-law doing more on his behalf. They already did his laundry, stitched his girls’ sweet little dresses, and minded his daughters. Much as he hated being beholden to them, he had no choice.

  Besides, making the bed killed a few more minutes. He didn’t like showing up to breakfast until it was on the table. Though he didn’t begrudge his brothers their happy marriages, it hurt something fierce to stand by and watch them and their wives radiating early morning contentment. To their credit, they’d not pushed him to remarry, and they put up with his curt ways. Dan did his best to shield his daughters from his grief, but it took everything he had to do just that. Fortunately, the girls’ aunts and uncles stepped in and doted on them to help fill in the empty spaces in their young hearts and lives. As soon as he wolfed down his breakfast and kissed his daughters, he could escape for the day. No matter how hard the work, though, he never managed to escape the soul-deep emptiness that plagued him since Hannah went to the hereafter.

  “No need to waste good cash money on hiring a ride,” Lovejoy Spencer said to her charges. “We’ll walk. It’s only seven miles or so.”

  “But we have our belongings!”

  Lovejoy gave Eunice a pat. “I know you’re a tad weary. Think on how each step’s a-takin’ you closer to your intended. That ought to make the load light.”

  Lois elbowed her sister. “She don’t know how much you stuffed in your half of the trunk.”

  “We need to get directions.” Tempy gawked up and down the busy street.

  “Easy as fallin’ off a log. Never seen so many folks in one place.” Lovejoy looked about Reliable and silently compared it to Salt Lick Holler. White’s Mercantile looked pert near as fancy as any big city store, and though it was Wednesday, the men all wore their Sunday-go-to-meetin’ best.

  It would take more than fancy duds to win Lovejoy’s approval, though. She was far more concerned with whether the MacPhersons would be steady men and cherish the gals. “We’ll get started right quick. I ken yore all eager to meet yore men.”

  Eunice quavered, “I brought every last thing I own.”

  Lovejoy smiled at her. “No shame in you bringing along your treasures to turn the house into a home. Now that I think on it, your trunk’s right heavy. Mayhap the storekeeper’ll know of someone headin’ our way.”

  “It occurs to me, as many strapping men as there are hereabouts”—Lois flashed a smile and waved at a pair of men by the saloon’s hitching post—“if things don’t work out with the MacPhersons, I’ll still be able to find me a husband.”

  “Last thing you need is a man who likes his likker.” Lovejoy scowled at the men, but to her dismay, they weren’t discouraged. They ambled across the road and doffed their hats.

  “Good day, ladies.” The smooth talker flashed them a smile that would do any snake oil salesman proud. “What a wonder it is to find such a bevy of beauties here in our fair town.”

  “Nice of you to swap howdies with us, but we’re here to meet up with the MacPhersons.” Lovejoy stepped forward and sensed Tempy at her side. Between the two of them, they shoved Eunice and Lois behind them. They’d perfected this move by now after five days of travel.

  “The MacPhersons?” One of the men hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and craned his neck so he could catch a better view of Lois and Eunice’s flame-haired beauty. “My, my. We didn’t put much store in their boasts that they had brides coming.”

  Tempy bristled. “Mike MacPherson’s no flannel-mouthed liar!”

  “Don’t get your back up, miss. He was just making conversation.” The first one flashed Tempy that same smile again.

  Lovejoy took exception to how he spoke to her sister. Before she could say a thing, the other tacked on, “It’s always a pleasure to have available women arrive.”

  Lovejoy pressed her hand to her bosom and used the other hand to shove Tempy behind herself with the others. “Sir, I’ll have you know these are not ‘available women.’ They’re ladies, and they’re already bespoken.”

  “Least they’re not getting snapped up by the Chance brothers this time,” another man said as he moseyed up.

  “We’re due at the MacPhersons’.” Lovejoy scanned the rapidly growing semicircle of men.

  Several men volunteered to take them, but they all seemed too willing. Lovejoy was about to announce they’d walk when a woman came out of the mercantile. She called, “Todd Dorsey’s at the blacksmith’s. He’s the MacPhersons’ nearest neighbor. I’ve sent my husband to fetch Mr. Dorsey. You gals come on in here to wait.”

  “Much obliged, ma’am.” Lovejoy shepherded the girls to safety and knew she’d met an ally when the woman blocked the mercantile door.

  “You men get back to your own business. I won’t have you pestering these women.” She shut the door and turned. “I’m Reba White.”

  Lovejoy introduced her charges and repeated, “Much obliged to you, ma’am. That was quite a pack of curly wolves.”

  “I promised the MacPhersons and Chances that I’d keep an eye out for you.” Reba grinned. “They didn’t have to ask. I can’t tell you how delighted I am to have a few more good, God-fearing women moving to Reliable.”

  They didn’t have to wait long at the mercantile. Good thing, that. Tempy and Eunice started mooning over every last wondrous, new-fangled thing in the place. Lois satisfied herself by standing at the specialty display case, cho
osing her favorite wedding band from the three shown there alongside fancy gold pocket watches. Mr. Dorsey loaded the trunk and their satchels on the wagon, and then they all clambered aboard.

  About a mile down the road, Mr. Dorsey cleared his throat. “If you all don’t mind me stopping off at my place, I can drive you the rest of the way tomorrow.”

  “It’s a mighty fine offer, but we’re expected.” Tempy smoothed her skirts. “Helping us out even partway was right neighborly of you.”

  Awhile later, as they stood on the dusty road and waved good-bye to Mr. Dorsey, Lois said, “He’s got mean, beady eyes. I didn’t trust him a lick. Good thing you said we wouldn’t go home with him!”

  “Mrs. White back at the store spoke highly of him.” Lovejoy looked at the other fork in the road. “Best we jump to what lies ahead rather than waste time judging what’s past.”

  Another mile down the road, Eunice set down her end of the trunk and wailed, “I cain’t do this. It’s too heavy.”

  Dust swirled as Lois dropped her end and plopped down on the trunk. “She’s right.” Her brow puckered. “If ’n the MacPhersons are expectin’ us, why didn’t they fetch us?”

  “I told the truth. They are expecting us. I just didn’t say when.” Tempy fanned herself.

  “Men cain’t very well stop everything and go to town each day—leastways, not hardworking ones.” Lovejoy stared at the trunk. “This is a genuine opportunity. We’ll show them you’re just as tireless.”

  “There!” Lovejoy stood back about half an hour later and surveyed their creation. They’d lashed hickory broomsticks to the ends of the trunk with a length of clothesline rope. “Why, it’s just like how they carried the ark of the covenant in the Old Testament.”

  “I hope it looked better than this,” Lois muttered.

  Lovejoy started to laugh. “Sure and enough, it did. After all, our rods are sideways.”

  “Hope the cherubims don’t take offense.” Tempy giggled. She pointed to the satchels and valises piled atop the trunk. “The angels’ wings are supposed to meet over the ark. That baggage looks more like gargoyles.”