Either way, I prepared a meal which was one of the few that I knew how to cook. Roast chicken with sage and rosemary, mashed potatoes and some vegetables on the side. I laid it out on the fancy dining table, just a few minutes before eight and stared at the food in awe. This was not the kind of role I would have ever pictured for myself. A dutiful woman, preparing a meal for a man who was going to be my husband, and who I didn’t even know. What had Daddy got me into?
I decided to leave all my anger with my father for a later time and concentrated on making sure that all the plates and cutlery were neatly placed. For the past three hours, I hadn’t spoken to anyone else, I hadn’t even heard my own voice, and I was beginning to anticipate seeing Clyde again. Wondering what this conversation was going to be like.
The front door opened and then slammed shut. I heard the crunch of his boots in the hallway, then cross the living room and finally, he loomed at the entrance of the kitchen. I wiped my hands on the apron I had tied to my waist, while I watched him surveying the display on the dining table. He looked pleased, his blue eyes had softened, and I took a strange pleasure from his approval. Why did I want to please him? I wasn’t actually going to spend the rest of my life married to this man. It was just a fake marriage. And yet, it seemed like Clyde had this effect on people, and definitely on me. Strangely enough, I wanted him to like me.
“Impressive,” he said, and slowly took his hat off of his head, and I tried to suppress a smile that was forming on my face. He stepped into the kitchen, and once again, I was reminded of how tall this man actually was.
“I’ve been surviving on beans and toast for dinner for the past few months,” he said and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. I remained standing near the sink, watching him as he unfurled the napkin on his side and placed it on his lap.
“And before that?” I had the courage to ask, and Clyde raised his eyebrows to look at me. Those same piercing blue eyes that made me shift on my feet.
“Before that, I lived a very different life,” he said, and poured himself a glass of water from the jug that I had placed before him. I stepped forward and pulled out a chair of my own. I sat down quietly, noticing how seldom Clyde actually looked at me. He was concentrating on his food.
“What kind of a life?” I asked, and he carved himself a slice of the chicken and pushed the fork into his mouth. He had turned his eyes on me and watched me silently as he chewed. He was difficult to read. I couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking or what he was about to say.
“You are very curious, Jade,” he said my name like he was scolding a little child, which made me instantly straighten my back and jut my nose up in the air proudly.
“We are going to be married in less than two days, don’t you think I have the right to be curious?” I asked him, and Clyde lazily looked away from me and back to the food. He was eating quickly, but seemed to be enjoying it.
“You’re right,. We are going to be married in two days. Which means that we have a lot of other things to think about. You’ll have your whole life to ask me all these questions,” he said, and my cheeks flushed. My whole life! That was not going to happen. I couldn’t possibly live with this man for more than a few weeks.
“What other things do we need to think about?” I asked, and our eyes met again. I was eating meekly, barely putting any food in my mouth because I didn’t feel hungry; not in his presence at least.
“You need to get accustomed to this house, my lifestyle. I guess that all of this is very foreign to you,” he said and chewed on his food some more. I gulped and blushed again.
“This is all new, yes. I’m from Chicago,” I offered, and Clyde didn’t even bother looking at me. As though he wasn’t interested in the least where I was from or what my life before had been like. I was slowly beginning to understand how this relationship…how this marriage…was going to look. Ask no questions and no questions will be asked to you. How was someone supposed to survive like this? Two people in such a big house with no other human being in sight. I suddenly felt claustrophobic, and the fork fell out of my hand and clinked down on the plate.
“Sorry,” I said, and covered my mouth with the napkin, while I could sense that Clyde was staring at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, in the same booming deep voice, which sent goosebumps running over my skin.
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong…everything,” I was fumbling with my words, as I pressed the napkin to my mouth, trying to keep my eyes on my plate and not on him. It had only been a few hours, and already I felt trapped. So far away from home, with a cold, arrogant stranger who barely even looked at me. What had Daddy done! How was I supposed to live here for weeks, or maybe months?
“Everything?” he repeated my word and eventually, I raised my face to look at him. He was holding the knife and fork up in his hands, his wrists were on the edge of the table and he was looking at me with narrowed eyes.
“Nothing. I meant, nothing is wrong,” I said, and I recognized the shake in my voice, which he no doubt caught as well. Clyde placed the cutlery down on the table, and turned himself to look at me directly. The silence was killing me and my inability to read his body language was messing with my head. What was this man capable of?
“Listen to me, Jade, are you here against your will? Did Mr. Neely force you into this?” he said, and I gulped and shook my head.
“N…no, I wanted this,” I said, and expected him to ask why, but he didn’t. Instead, he glared at me some more.
“You seem like this isn’t what you want to do. Why is that?” he said, and I shook my head again.
“That isn’t true. I want to be here, I wanted this life,” I didn’t know why I was lying. I could have just told him the truth. He was giving me a chance to confess, to change my mind…but instead, I chose to protect Daddy’s secret and to continue with this charade.
Clyde sat back in his chair and picked up his cutlery again, and cut himself some more chicken.
“Whatever I am, Jade, I am not a brute, and I am not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said, and I blinked at him. Clyde, with his perfect face, his steely brows, those strong hands, a body which even through his clothes I could tell was capable of making any woman scream with joy…
“I just need to get used to this life, that’s all. It’s just all very overwhelming for me,” I said, and pushed some vegetables into my mouth. Clyde took a sip of water from his glass and looked over at me.
“Well, you’ve hit the nail on the head with what I like to eat. This was good,” he said and ate the last chunk of chicken on his plate. Then he washed it down with some more water. I had barely even gone through half of the food on mine.
“I’ve arranged for the Justice of the Peace to come over in the morning day after, and witness us signing our marriage license form,” he said, back to his business like firm tone again.
“That’s it?” I asked, hurling back into shock again. Clyde scowled, as he studied my face some more.
“Is there anything else necessary? This is a marriage of convenience. Mr. Neely informed me that you wouldn’t have any family or friends attending, and I won’t either,” he said, and I felt my breasts heaving, my heart pumping, my nostrils flaring…and I couldn’t even be sure of why I was feeling this way. A wedding didn’t matter. This wasn’t real. I didn’t even know if I liked this man.
“No, yes, you’re right. That should be enough,” I said, and Clyde got up from his chair abruptly.
“I hope you’re comfortable in your room,” he said, before turning away from me.
“Very comfortable,” I said, a little curtly as I tried to keep myself together for long enough.
“After we get married, you can choose if you want to move into my room or remain in yours. Please have my breakfast ready before eight tomorrow,” he said, and then turned and walked out of the kitchen.
I clapped my hands to my mouth, to suppress a scream which I knew was rising up in my throa
t. What kind of a life was this going to be for me? He didn’t even have any intention of sharing a room with his new bride! What kind of a life did he want for himself? Michelle was right. He just wanted a housekeeper, someone to cook and clean for him. Someone whose bedroom he could occasionally visit on nights when he felt like it.
I couldn’t eat anymore. I pushed my plate away and threw the napkin on the floor, which I knew I would eventually have to pick up later. I breathed in and out deeply, trying to remind myself of the real reason why I was here. I needed the money. This was the first and only thing Daddy had ever asked me to do, and after all the disappointments I had caused in his life…a few weeks worth of sacrifice in this house with Clyde would make up for it all.
Daddy would give me the money I needed to set up a studio, enough to make rent for the next two years for my apartment in Chicago. By then I would work hard and make my business boom. I would never have to ask him for money again.
I stood and started collecting all the dishes off the table. There was a dishwasher in the kitchen, which meant that I didn’t actually have to do any cleaning. Within half an hour, I was tired and sleepy and ready for bed. I’d had a long day, even though it was only nine. I usually didn’t go to sleep before midnight, but today, I couldn’t keep my eyes open a moment longer.
Dirty Dusty Durango
by
Scarlett Lake
Chapter One
McCoy stepped out of the stagecoach, stretched his legs and glanced around the bustling town of Durango. He had never been to Colorado before but based on the stories he read in the newspaper there was silver and gold just waiting to be discovered. After a bad draught and the loss of a loved one he was tired of ranching so he decided to leave Salt Lake City and head down to Durango praying for a change of luck. Like most men his age, he hoped to strike it rich and buy a nice plot of land for his homestead. He knew if it took him a while to stake out his claim the railroad was looking for hardworking, strong, men to lay track for fifty cents per day.
From the looks of the town, it wasn’t going to be easy to find a place to stay since there was only one hotel. McCoy noticed what appeared to be a series of makeshift canvas shacks off in the distance. If he couldn’t get a room at the saloon or hotel, he’d make his way to the temporary village to see what they had to offer.
McCoy was about to grab his bedroll and saddlebags from the stagecoach when he noticed what he assumed was the schoolmarm standing on the steps of the town’s schoolhouse. She wore a crisp white shirt with long sleeves and a high collar. Her long pale blue skirt that covered her ankles was buttoned tight around her trim waist, and her beautiful auburn hair was pulled up in a bun. About the time he was going to tip his hat to her, to his disappointment she turned and walked away. Perhaps there’s more to do here in the dusty town than meets the eye!
Once he secured his lodging and found regular work, then he’d figure a way to learn more about that lovely, young teacher. He chuckled to himself and moistened his lips when a dirty thought came to mind. Without a doubt, he reckoned he could teach her a lesson or two, and it would have nothing to do with reading, writing, and arithmetic. Maybe he could give her a good paddling. He knew for a fact some women liked that.
McCoy slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. Then he squinted his eyes against the blast of a whirling dust devil and headed across Main Street toward the Tumble Weed Saloon. Soon after the saloon doors squeaked open McCoy was greeted by a friendly saloon girl. She had on an off-the-shoulder white blouse and black knickers that left little for him to imagine. Her flowing brown hair cascaded over her shoulders almost covering over her ample cleavage. She smiled a sweet smile and looked him in his eyes. “Do you want some company, sugar? Stepping closer to improve his view of her breasts, she whispered, “I have a nice room upstairs where we can have some privacy.”
McCoy took a deep breath then licked his lips. He could almost see her nipples just under the lace on her blouse. “Thanks for the offer, honey, but I just want a shot or two of whiskey.” He was too tired to take her up on what she was offering, anyway.
“Your loss, sugar,” she said as she sashayed away setting her sites on another cowboy.
McCoy chuckled to himself and continued his path to the bar. “Barkeep, I’d like one whiskey and some information.”
The barkeep sauntered over to McCoy, set a shot glass out and filled it to the brim. Looking up through his bushy black eyebrows, he said, “There’s your whiskey. Now, go ahead, what’s your question?”
“Do you know where I might find lodging and work around these parts? I just got in from Salt Lake City…hoping to try my hand at staking out a claim.”
The barkeep chuckled. “So you’re another one of them there dreamers coming here to strike it rich?” McCoy tossed back his whiskey, smacked his lips and nodded in agreement. Then he tapped the side of the bar with his knuckle and the barkeep poured him another.
“I’d suggest you stay here, but we have no vacancy.” Then he stepped back from the bar and eyed McCoy up and down before he asked, “You here to do any gambling?”
“Nope, not today.”
The barkeep parsed his lips and shook his head. “Then you need to head on down to tent city and ask for Mathias McNitt. He’s the man to see ‘bout a job and put a roof over your head.”
McCoy downed the remainder of his second whiskey and dropped two-bits on the bar with a ‘clink.’ Then he reached down, grabbed his belongings, and headed toward the door. As he walked down the dusty street, he noticed the sun was setting over the mountain ridge, and the temperatures were dropping. On his way to find Mr. McNitt, he passed right by the schoolhouse when a thought came to mind. Wouldn’t it be convenient if he could find some work at the school, cleaning or painting or doing some carpenter work? He nodded his head and made a mental note go by and check the next day.
Moments later, McCoy found McNitt sitting around a fire drinking with a group of men. He was a big, burly man with a full beard, who spotted McCoy almost immediately. “Well, what do we have here, boys, some fresh muscle for working on the line?”
“Are you Mathias? I’m looking for Mathias McNitt,” McCoy asked with a scowl.
“You’re looking at him,” he said with a smile and reached out to shake McCoy’s hand. “Let me guess…you’re looking for work and a place to hang your hat.”
McCoy shook his head, “Yes!”
McNitt rubbed the back of his neck like he had to consider this decision for a minute. Then he shook his head, and said, “I can offer you something for the short term until you prove to me you can work.”
“I appreciate that, but I'm only looking for—.”
McNitt then turned to the men, and said, “Sam, give this man here a bunk and show him around—put him down to start at forty-five cents per day.”
McCoy shook his head. “Thanks but right now all I need is a place to stay.”
“Save your breath and follow me,” said Sam.
Chapter Two
The sounds of children playing outside caused Violet to pull her father’s timepiece out of her pocket and click the cover open. “It’s only eight fifteen, the children are a little early today,” Violet muttered to herself. So she got up from her desk and walked out the front door of the red schoolhouse to watch the children running and skipping toward her. Then she wrapped her hands around the rope and slowly tugged causing the large bell in the belfry to sound with a ‘bong.’ Within minutes the children flooded inside and scurried this way and that anxious to find their seats.
Violet set about taking attendance. “Now, raise your hand, when I call your name—Otis Johnson, Lucy Louis, Alma Madison, Jeremiah Renshaw…” Violet called out, as she put a check mark by each of their names. “All right now, let’s get started with our lessons.” The older students practiced their multiplication tables while the younger ones worked on their reading and spelling. It was just another ordinary school day in Durango’s one room schoolhouse—at least that w
as how it started.
When it was time for recess, Violet followed her students outside to get a breath of fresh air. As she stood on the steps, she noticed a cloud of dust forming off in the distance signaling the approach of a stagecoach. It was a common occurrence; people arrived at the town of Durango every day by stage in hopes of finding work on the railroad or in one of the gold mines. When the stage pulled up in front of the general store, she watched as an older gentleman with a long gray beard stepped out first then held his hand out to a plump woman who appeared to be near the same age. Violet assumed they were a married couple but shook her head with wonder. Why a married couple came to a dusty boomtown in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado?—a notion hard to fathom.
Violet pressed the side of her palm to her brow to shade her eyes from the glare of the hot morning sun. As the couple collected their luggage, a young woman appeared at the door of the coach then helped herself to the ground. Violet gasped a bit and was taken aback by the young lady’s attire. Her ample bosom was exposed above the low-cut blouse, and her mid-calf skirt with a petticoat left her shapely calves uncovered. By the way, the woman’s long blond hair fell freely around shoulders; Violet assumed that she came to Durango to work as a saloon girl. Violet shook her head—with so many men venturing into town, there was always a need for attractive young women to service them.
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