Desperate Lola (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 2)

by Carré White

  “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Coward.” I sat forward, shooting daggers at him. “You’re nothing more than an old, perverted man! You don’t want me to leave, because you gain some wicked thrill from harassing me.”

  “That’s untrue.”

  “I found the hole!”

  “Which has probably been in that wall for decades.”

  “No. I remember hanging that painting, and there was no hole.”

  “Termites.”

  “No. It was created by you.”

  “Lies.”

  “It doesn’t matter! If you don’t return me to my husband’s house at once, I’ll tell mother all about it. I’ll tell her how you go out of your way to touch me. I’ll tell her about how you stare at me. It’s vile, Mark. I’m not one of your mistresses, nor will I ever be.” I glared angrily. “You’re the reason I left.”

  “You’re full of delusions, Lola. If it flatters you to think I’ve been watching you in your room, then so be it. If you feel the need to communicate these lies to your mother, she won’t believe you. You’ve broken her trust by running away. She’s not only devastated by your disappearance, but also hurt by the deception. You’ve a great deal of bowing and scraping ahead of you to win her favor again and be reinstated in her good graces.”

  Some of what he said rang true. I had an inkling that mother would blame me and take Mark’s side. This was why I had never confided in her about the hole in the wall and all the other things that bothered me. I knew she would dismiss the allegations, because she had always been an obedient wife. I had seen her defer to him on hundreds of occasions, always behaving with docile servitude. It disgusted me. She knew about his mistresses, yet she chose not to look too closely at the situation. I had once asked her, in a round about way, if it bothered her that some men sought comfort with these women, and her response had been, “What men choose to do with their spare time is their business.”

  “I must ask you something?”

  I glanced out the window at the darkness. “I can’t stop you from talking.”

  “Has … is the marriage consummated, I mean, is the farce consummated?”

  Not missing a beat, I said, “Yes. I’m his in every regard.” This was a lie, but I had felt it necessary. “He’s my husband.” I held up my hand. “This is my wedding ring. I’m Mrs. Jack Kelly.” To drive the point home, I added, “And I love him.”

  Something unpleasant glimmered in his eyes, as his mouth turned down. “We shall see about that.”

  “Indeed.”

  I had spoken with far more bravado than I felt. If Jack did not find me before Virginia, I did not know what would happen. Mark, being a successful businessman, had many useful connections and friends to assist him. He would have all the power, and he would be able to impose his will upon me, which was too terrible to think about. My mother would be of little help, as she was his servant in every respect.

  Not wanting to look at my stepfather for another moment, I glanced out the window, seeing nothing but darkness and shadow. The moon remained a sliver of light, most of which was hidden by clouds. With any luck, Jack would still be in Lamy, and we would cross paths. I could not board that train tomorrow. I desperately needed to be rescued, but twinges of doubt assailed me. My shoulder throbbed and my arm ached, while my spirits had sunk to new lows.

  Jack … I need you. I hope you’re in Lamy. Oh, dear, Jesus. Help me.

  Chapter 15

  The hotel in which my stepfather had rented a room was located in the center of town, amongst other businesses and near a boisterous saloon. It aggrieved me that we would have to share a room. Not having eaten supper, he had gone to find food, and I had taken that opportunity to escape, fleeing down the hallway, but I hadn’t gone far when a hand shot out, grabbing me.

  “I though you’d do this,” said an angry voice I knew all too well.

  “Let go!”

  He shook his head. “You can’t be trusted for one second.” Dragging me down the hallway, past several rooms, he pushed me into ours. “Sit on the chair.”

  Turning, I faced him, seething with resentment. “I don’t belong here! I belong with my husband!” He none too gently pushed me towards the chair, where I sat heavily. “Ouch!”

  Mark’s determined, angry face loomed over me. “I’ll tie you to this chair, so I can go get some supper.” Withdrawing the belt from around his waist, he grasped my hands, pinning them behind my back. Pain flared, the wound having been stretched too far.

  “You’re hurting me!”

  “You’re getting what you deserve, Lola. You won’t stay put, so I’ll do it for you.”

  The leather squeezed the skin around my wrists. “It’s too tight.”

  “You can manage for a few minutes. I’ll be back.” He stalked towards the door, slamming it behind him.

  “Bastard!” I sat listening to the sounds in the next room. People were talking, and the walls seemed thin. An idea struck. “Help! Someone help me! I’ve been kidnapped! Please help me!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, over and over, until a pounding came at the door. “Help!”

  “Will you be quiet! People are trying to sleep!”

  “Please get the key! I’ve been kidnapped! Help me!”

  “Aw … pipe down.”

  Tears formed in my eyes, as I swallowed the lump in my throat. I shuddered, knowing I would not find help tonight. Mark returned a short while later carrying a tray.

  “Got stew and bread. It’s not much. Most places are closed.” He eyed me. “I’ll untie you.”

  “How kind.”

  He worked the strap free of the buckle. “There you are.”

  There were two bowls and a loaf of freshly baked bread. I wanted to throw the food in his face, but I knew I needed to eat to keep my strength up. I sat at a small table by the window, eating while watching the people in the street. Most of them had been drinking, as I heard cussing and shouting. Mark sat next to me, but I kept my eyes averted, not having any desire to look at him. It would be a long, miserable night.

  Later, after I had gone to bed, the noises of a baby crying rang out from another room. I sent out a dozen or more silent prayers, begging God to find a way to free me. Was Jack in Lamy still? Or had he gone home already? Either way, he needed to be at the train station in the morning. He had to rescue me before it was too late, because, if I got on that train, it would all be over. These were the thoughts that drifted through my mind, tormenting me for hours before sleep finally came. In the morning, someone’s shouting woke me. There had been some sort of disagreement in the street before the hotel.

  “Up and at ‘em,” said Mark. “We have to check out within the hour.”

  I glared holes into his back, as he donned a frockcoat. “I need a doctor.”

  “Is something wrong with the shoulder?”

  “It hurts.”

  “I’ll get some strong whiskey for it. That’ll kill any infection.”

  “Doctor Baker said he needed to see it—”

  “I don’t care a continental!” His brows had drawn together. “Get yourself ready. We need to be at the station as early as possible.”

  “I won’t be of much use, if I die of infection.”

  “You’re not gonna die, but I might throw you from the train, if you don’t shut up.”

  “You’re a despicable man. How mother could find you attractive is beyond me. You’re ugly inside and out.”

  He pointed a finger in my direction. “Shut that pie hole! Not another word.”

  Despite the pain in my shoulder, I managed to pin my hair up, donning a bonnet, while my mind spun with escape plans. I could not get on the train to Kansas. I had to find a way to avoid such a fate.

  “Hurry up. Quit fiddling. You look fine.” His eyes raked over me. “You’re a lovely young woman, Lola.”

  I cringed inwardly, ignoring him.

  My leather bag was in his hands. “Let’s go. I gotta hire a carriage for the ri
de to the station. It’s not as close as I like, and I don’t want the whole world to see us.”

  “No, of course not. Then someone might recognize me.”

  He held open the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, stepfather, kidnapper, dearest.” I brushed past him, keeping my chin up.

  Mark escorted me down the hallway to a flight of stairs, where we encountered no one. The lobby of the hotel teamed with people, and I gazed around at the faces, trying to make eye contact with as many men as possible. A few ladies were among the mix, but it was mostly businessmen, who seemed to be in the process of leaving. Once outside, a gust of wind blew dust into my face, as the traffic of morning had stirred up soot from the dirt road.

  “Get in.” Mark pushed me towards a waiting carriage. “Hurry up!”

  I stepped inside, sliding down the leather seat to the window, not wanting to sit next to him.

  “Train station!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The carriage jolted, moving forward, while I stared at the mass of humanity that had gathered. The flurry of morning commerce had begun with the openings of the shops along the avenue. Shoeshine boys had emerged, setting up their businesses upon the boardwalk, while a woman had a stand of metal pots to sell. The abundance of conveyances made for a slow drive; walking would have been faster. My attention strayed to horses and men, observing several men in conversation by the saddle shop.

  A man and woman stood near a carriage, the driver being someone I recognized. A rush of energy shot through me. It was Henry! I tried to mask my excitement, staring with renewed interest at the couple. The man turned slightly, revealing the side of his face, which was familiar. This sent my spirits soaring, because it was Jack! I had just seen Jack! I reached for the window.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s too warm.” I lowered the glass, as a hot breeze blew against my face.

  “Sit down!”

  We neared their carriage, and we were less than six feet away, as my senses thrilled with thoughts of rescue. Another minute and I would shout at the top of my lungs for help. But then I spied whom Jack spoke with, and my heart twisted painfully inside my chest, feeling like someone had jabbed me with a dagger. I knew that woman! Dark, shiny hair had been captured artfully at the back of her head, while a purple satin hat with feathers shaded her face from the sun. Jack spoke with her, his expression neutral, but she smiled brightly, her dark eyes flashing. He had gone to Lamy on business, but why would he be speaking with Vanessa Lowell? What sort of business did a gentleman have with a prostitute?

  Our driver brought us alongside, and I was no more than three feet away, so close I could almost reach out and touch my husband. His back remained to me, his hands moving before him, gesturing as he spoke. I opened my mouth to alert him to my presence, but nothing came out. The sight of him with Vanessa had crushed me, and it felt like I had been trampled by a thousand horses. Tears welled in my eyes, my body shuddering, while a grief I had never known left me mute.

  Shout, Lola! Do it now before it’s too late.

  I can’t.

  You must!

  It doesn’t matter. My marriage isn’t legal.

  Yes it is.

  No.

  Don’t be so stubborn. I’m sure there’s an explanation as to why he’s talking to her.

  He came here to be with her.

  You don’t know that!

  We had gone by, the carriage trundling onward, while my husband remained in conversation with Vanessa. I leaned heavily into the seat, my spirits utterly defeated.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “You can ask that? Of course something’s wrong. I’ve been kidnapped.”

  “The sooner you realize this is for the best, the better.”

  Regret flooded me. The feeling that I had just made a grave mistake had me on my feet, sticking my head out of the window and shouting, “Jack! Jack! Jac—”

  “Shut up, you little fool!” Mark had grabbed me roughly, his hand clamping down over my mouth.

  I struggled, pushing against him, but he was far stronger, and the movement produced pain in my shoulder. Tears fell from my eyes, because I had let my pride stand in the way of common sense. I could face the truth of Jack and Vanessa’s relationship and accept my fate stoically, but returning to Virginia in my stepfather’s clutches would not be possible. Living with a pervert and a mother who chose to turn the other cheek to her husband’s behavior was intolerable.

  You stupid girl!

  I know. I slumped against the seat, my shoulder throbbing.

  “Don’t do that again!” Mark glared angrily. “The sooner you settle down, the better.”

  An assemblage of carriages appeared ahead, and ours fell into line, waiting for the driver to deposit us at the station. If I had opened my mouth, I would be with Jack now, although seeing him with Vanessa had displeased and disappointed me. There had to be a reason why he had come to Lamy to see her.

  A moment later, we slowed to a stop. “Here we are.” Mark glanced at me. “I’ve got to buy the tickets. It looks like they’re gearing up to depart soon. We just made it.” Not waiting for the driver, he flung open the door. “Let’s go, Lola.” I was slow to move from the seat. “Hurry up, now!”

  He reached for my arm, pulling me from the interior. “Ow!”

  “On your feet.” He propelled me forward, saying to the driver, “Watch our bags.”

  Wading through a crush of people, we entered a brick building, which felt stiflingly hot, as the only ventilation came from open doors and windows. After we had purchased the tickets, we retrieved the bags, hurrying for the platform, where people had begun to board. Wanting to avoid the crowded conditions in coach, Mark paid for the sleeping car, which sported an upper berth that folded up to the ceiling during the day. We sat on cushions facing one another, while a porter brought our bags in.

  “This will do,” said Mark, looking pleased.

  There were fewer people in the Pullman sleeping car, as most had gone to the club and dining cars. “I suppose.” I stared out the window, although this side of the train left me with the view of what looked like an industrial type of warehouse.

  “We can eat in a while, if you want.”

  “I’m not hungry.” I could feel his attention on me, and I hated it.

  “You look pale.”

  “Is it any wonder?” I had been manhandled since yesterday, and my shoulder throbbed.

  I had seen my husband and said nothing. My weary soul screamed at me to find an answer. It pleaded with me to do something about the situation before it was too late. How could I have let him take me so easily? Being injured and without money were hindrances I could not overcome at the moment. I had to think of something … but nothing came to mind.

  Chapter 16

  For lunch, we ventured into the dining car, sitting at a small table facing one another. The food had been prepared at a depot restaurant, and it was simple, mostly sandwiches, fruits, and cheeses. Mark partook in several glasses of wine, while I drank lemonade. For dinner, we would stop at a station in Oklahoma City and eat at a real restaurant. With each passing minute, the train’s running gear vibrated beneath my feet, as I lamented the fact that I was rapidly moving away from the life I wanted.

  We spent the afternoon in the lounge car, and I flipped through the pages of The Young Ladies’ Journal and Godey Lady’s Magazine. Mark chatted with a businessman from Ohio, having moved from wine to whiskey. From the sound of his voice, which had risen noticeably, he was in fine spirits. Stealthily observing him, I began to run through various scenarios of escape. We would be stopping in Oklahoma City for dinner, and I could not help wondering how intoxicated he might be by then. If he were to fall asleep at any point, I might be able to exit the train and take another back to Lamy. I planned to steal the money for the fare from Mark, but I had to figure out how I would do it.

  The porter refilled his glass, pouring a splash of amber fluid into the fine cryst
al goblet. Watching my stepfather down the contents in one gulp, my optimism grew, hoping and praying he would be far too drunk later to watch over me. As it was, his eyes had taken on a bleary, red-rimmed appearance, his head bobbing from side-to-side. An hour later, he had fully succumbed to slumber.

  I sat and watched, waiting until his soft snores filled the lounge car, while other’s played card games and talked. Sliding from my seat, I leaned nearer to him, snatching the goblet from his fingers. The glass had been in danger of falling to the floor, and the crash would have woken him. Casting a glance around, I observed that no one watched me, and I slid my hand into his waistcoat pocket, withdrawing a thick billfold. I then spirited away a few dollars, returning the item to his person. Sitting in the seat across from him, I felt a twinge of unease, yet it mingled with a mounting sense of freedom. I had to find a way to escape in Oklahoma City. The sooner I extracted myself from my stepfather’s clutches, the better.

  It was another two hours before Mark stirred, and I had taken a stroll through the train, eyeing the passengers. I had plotted for hours, working up how I would escape at the next stop.

  “We’re nearly there,” he said, yawning.

  I handed him another brandy. “Here you are. You nearly spilled this.” To my dismay, he shook his head.

  “I think I’ve had enough.” Getting to his feet, he glanced at me, his eyes watery. “I need to find the washroom. Excuse me.”

  Sinking to the chair, I sighed wearily. He had gotten drunk far too early in the day, and now he would be lucid for the remainder of the evening. However, I could still plot my escape, using the restaurant to my advantage. If I were to slip out of the back of such an establishment, I could run and hide. Then he would be forced to go on without me. If I were not successful in Oklahoma, then I would try again at the next stop and the one after that. I refused to give up, because I knew in my heart that I belonged to Jack.

  “They said another ten minutes.” Mark had returned, sitting across from me, his look bland, but I could feel anger radiating from him. “You may return the money you stole from me, Lola.” He held out his hand. “Now.”