by Connie Mason
Hugo Kiley was a fireman. A job he proudly held for many years, boasting of his strength and agility despite his advancing years. He was well known around the neighborhood and thought to be an upstanding citizen, even though his drinking was fast becoming a problem.
“Please, Uncle Hugo, let me go,” cried Julie, twisting from his cruel grip. “What would Aunt Lavinia say if she saw you behaving toward me in such a shameful manner?”
For a moment Hugo looked uncomfortable. Then his face split in a wide grin. “Yer aunt is dead, me girl, God rest her soul, but me, I’m alive. And so are ye. But go on with ye,” he said, giving her a shove toward the kitchen, “fix me breakfast. I’ll have ye yet, lass. Yer cherry belongs to me.” Her cheeks reddened by her uncle’s vulgar words and implication, Julie fled into the kitchen, certain it was no longer safe to remain under her uncle’s roof and living off his charity.
Hugo Kiley chewed his food in thoughtful silence as Julie went about her chores. He thought the girl more beautiful and provocative than any woman he had ever known. Two years ago she had been placed in his charge by her fanciful father whose dreams of gold were likely his undoing. At sixteen Juliet Darcy had just begun to exhibit the beginnings of a great beauty she would one day possess. During the next two years Hugo watched her closely as her slim contours filled and molded into womanly proportions, her lush breasts and flaring hips swelling sensuously beneath her dress.
But to Hugo, Julie’s face was the most arresting with her small pointed chin, delicate nose and full lips, red as ripe cherries. Long wavy hair the color of warm honey fell to her waist in a tangled mass of wayward curls. Dark brows arched above eyes the color of a clear blue sky thickly lashed with feathery spirals that some considered too long to be decent. Any man would be proud to call such a woman his. And Hugo intended to have her. He considered Lavinia’s unexpected death providential, proving that he was meant to have the lass. Even Father O’Neil had given his grudging blessing to Hugo’s plans. Now it was time for Julie to learn of them … and accept them.
“Set ye down, lass, I would talk with ye,” Hugo smiled graciously, gesturing toward a chair.
“Talk, Uncle Hugo? Whatever about?”
“Yer future, lass, that’s what. With yer aunt gone and yer father probably dead, I’m yer legal guardian.” Julie remained silent, eyeing Hugo warily. “Have ye ever thought of marriage?” he asked her.
“Marriage! Why, no,” Julie said truthfully. “How could I think of marriage when I know no men? No, uncle, I have no desire to marry. At least not until papa returns.”
“Bah! How many times must I tell ye yer father is long dead by now. Not one word have ye heard from the man in two years.”
“He’s not dead!” Julie insisted stubbornly. “I’d know if he were.”
“Be that as it may, me girl, the fact still remains that I’m yer guardian. And it’s come to me ears that people are beginning to talk about us living alone here in this house, what with our not being blood kin and all. Even the good Father O’Neil spoke to me of it just yesterday.”
“Father O’Neil?” questioned Julie dumbly. “I can’t believe a Godly man like him would think—”
“It’s not him, lass,” interrupted Hugo impatiently, “tis others who are doing the talking. Father O’Neil just brought it to my attention. He suggested I do the right thing by ye.”
“The right thing?” A finger of dread snaked its way up Julie’s spine as Hugo’s words took on sinister meaning.
“I’m thinking the only way to stop the gossips is for us to get married,” announced Hugo grandly. “What do ye say to that, me girl?”
“You’re crazy!” Julie gasped, shocked. “The idea is preposterous! My father would never allow such a thing. Why, Aunt Lavinia would turn in her grave if she knew what you have in mind.”
“Father O’Neil will marry us tomorrow in the church,” continued Hugo blithely, completely ignoring Julie’s protests. “He agrees with me that in our case we are justified in not observing a full year of mourning. Yer reputation must be protected at all costs.”
“Protected by whom, you?” spat Julie, her face flushed with anger. “No, uncle, I’ll not marry you. I’d rather leave this house.”
Undaunted by Julie’s outburst, Hugo smiled indulgently. “Where will ye go, lass?”
“Anywhere,” declared Julie hotly. “I’ll get a job as a governess, or a maid, anything.”
“I think not,” Hugh smiled slyly. “Ye need me permission to leave this house. If ye are determined to run away I’ll find ye. The law is on my side. I’ll have the police out searching for ye and ye’ll not get far.”
Julie stared at her uncle, mouth agape. As unjust as it seemed, the police would indeed be on his side. As a young woman of eighteen she had no rights whatsoever. As her guardian her uncle could do whatever he pleased with her short of murder. But Julie, always resourceful and spirited, would never allow herself to be used in such a vile manner. She would throw herself on Father O’Neil’s mercy and beg him to place her with a family in return for her services.
As if reading her thoughts Hugo grasped Julie’s wrists, dragging her from her chair. “I’m thinking ye might be trying to run away, me darlin’,” he smiled nastily. “I’m also thinking I’m knowing of a way to make sure me bride-to-be don’t fly from me lovin’ arms.”
Before Julie could react to his words Hugo slammed his mouth down on hers, forcing his tongue between her tight lips. Julie gagged, growing faint from the unexpected attack. A hard object protruded into her stomach as Hugo’s huge hands roamed freely over breasts and buttocks, pulling her tightly against his stabbing flesh.
Whimpering softly, Julie struggled, her arms reaching out frantically for something, anything. “I’ll not wait. I’ll have ye now, me darlin’,” Hugo panted, lifting her slight form in his burly arms and striding purposefully into the bedroom, depositing her none too gently in the center of the bed. “Father O’Neil won’t fault me for having me bride a day early. I’ve waited two long years for this moment. I’ve watched ye grow from a gangling lass into a rare beauty, yer woman’s body begging for the attention of a man.”
The moment Hugo’s hands left her to remove his clothes Julie was up and running. But not fast enough as Hugo caught her before she reached the door. “Uncle, please, don’t do this. At least wait until we are married,” she pleaded, hedging. “I … I want to go to my wedding a virgin. Surely you won’t begrudge me that.”
Hugo looked confused. “Are ye telling me ye won’t fight this marriage?”
“I’ll … I’ll marry you, uncle, willingly, if you agree to my wishes,” Julie lied, willing to agree to almost anything to save herself.
At first Hugo was openly skeptical, refusing to believe that his strong-willed niece would suddenly acquiesce to his wishes. “Ye swear? Ye swear on yer aunt’s dead body that ye won’t change yer mind?”
“I swear on Aunt Lavinia’s dead body,” Julie said solemnly, “that my mind is made up and I won’t change it.”
“Ye won’t regret it, lass,” Hugo grinned toothily. “I’ll be good to ye. Once yer broke in proper-like ye’ll learn to love what I can do for ye in bed. Yer Aunt Lavinia had no complaints.”
Julie shuddered. It was true that she swore she wouldn’t change her mind, and she meant it. But what Uncle Hugo couldn’t know was that Julie had already made up her mind to escape. The moment the despicable man left the house she was gone … for good.
“Well,” Hugo finally decided, “I’m thinking I’ve not the time now to finish what I started so it suits me purposes to grant yer wish. It’s pure ye’ll be when I take ye to wife but pure ye won’t remain for no longer than it takes me to remove yer clothes. It’s off to work I am now, lass. Give yer bridegroom a kiss to keep him going the rest of the day.”
Vastly relieved, Julie concealed her revulsion the best she could and dutifully gave Hugo a peck on the cheek. Chuckling, Hugo pulled her protesting body into his burly arms. “That
’s not what I had in mind, lass,” he said as his mouth covered her trembling lips, sucking the very breath from her soul. Before he released her he boldly fondled her breasts, rudely inserting his hands down the front of her bodice. Julie squirmed uncomfortably but bravely stood her ground.
The moment Hugo Kiley left the house whistling a spritely tune, Julie literally leaped into action. Dragging a large carpetbag from beneath the bed she stuffed it with her meager articles of clothing, adding to it a comb and brush and several pieces of her mother’s jewelry. Though not of extreme value they were nonetheless precious to Julie. On a sudden whim she took her aunt’s good wool cape with the velvet collar and lining, leaving her own threadbare garment in its place. Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to confiscate the few coins her uncle kept in the house for emergencies.
Wrapping some bread, cheese and sausage in a napkin and stuffing an apple in her pocket, Julie left the house, not once looking back. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to California to look for her father. She had no idea how she would get there but there was no doubt in her mind that she would one day reach California and find her father.
Lugging her ungainly burden Julie began walking with no particular destination in mind, knowing that her safety depended on putting as much distance as possible between herself and her uncle. By late afternoon Julie found herself standing on the docks, tired, hungry and footsore, watching the longshoremen loading and unloading the many ships lining the harbor. Selecting a sturdy box she seated herself and munched on her apple, wishing herself aboard one of those stalwart ships on her way to California.
So engrossed was Julie in her own dilemma that she failed to notice the small form standing nearby, gazing at her curiously. “Are you one of the California wives?”
“What?” Julie was startled to find she was not alone. “Were you speaking to me? I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
The girl facing Julie was about her own age with clouds of dark hair swirling about her slim shoulders and an impish face sprinkled with pale freckles. Green eyes laughed at her through thick black lashes. A wide generous mouth kept her from true beauty but there was no denying she was vastly attractive. Though slim of hips, her breasts small but shapely, the girl was undeniably feminine.
“I merely wondered if you were one of the women sailing for California aboard the Westwind in two days,” repeated the girl, laughing at Julie’s obvious confusion. “I was hoping we might be shipmates. I’m Polly Carter, who are you?”
“I’m Juliet Darcy,” said Julie, smiling at the friendly girl. “But I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh,” said Polly, slightly embarrassed. “I thought … well, never mind, Juliet.”
“No,” persisted Julie. “Tell me about it. Are you going to California? And please, call me Julie.”
“Yes, Julie, isn’t it exciting? It will be a great adventure. Of course, I’m hoping my husband-to-be is a kind man. And not too old or ugly,” she added with a mischievous sparkle in her green eyes.
“You mean to tell me you are going to California to be married?” queried Julie, “to a man you’ve never met?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Polly assured her. “The man who arranged it all, Mr. Goddard, recruited us and has assured us that everything is above board. He is a good and kindly man. Women are desperately needed in California. Not … bad women, but decent ones willing to settle in the west and raise families. Mr. Goddard is the instigator in a sort of lottery held in California. After everything was arranged there he returned here to recruit women willing to become wives to the lonely men in California. All our expenses are being paid by the prospective grooms.”
“How did you learn about this, Polly?” Julie was astounded by what Polly had told her.
“In the newspaper. Didn’t you see the ad? It ran for weeks.”
“No, Uncle Hugo never wasted coin on a newspaper. He always read the copy passed around the firehouse before he came home. Do your parents approve of what you are doing?”
Polly’s pert features crumbled, making Julie almost sorry she brought up the subject. “My father died ten years ago and my … my mother, only a month ago. I have no one, neither friend nor relative who cares what I do.”
“I’m sorry, Polly,” Julie said softly. “But you and I are much alike in that respect.”
Polly was immediately interested. “Are your parents also dead?”
“My mother died years ago. But I’m sure my father is alive. He left me in the care of his sister and her husband two years ago when he went off to California to look for gold. I haven’t heard from him in nearly two years but I know he is still alive. Now my aunt is dead and my uncle is forcing me to marry him.”
“So you ran away,” surmised Polly, spying the carpetbag partially hidden beneath the hem of Julie’s cape.
“I had no choice,” Julie shrugged. “He tried to … to … well, needless to say I will not marry that despicable man no matter what he says. I left his house this morning and have no intention of returning.”
“Where will you go? Do you have someone to help you?” asked Polly, worry over her newfound friend wrinkling her smooth brow.
“I have no one,” admitted Julie sadly. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I only know that I can’t return home to Uncle Hugo.”
“Come to California, Julie,” Polly urged, excited. “You said your father is there. Think how surprised he’ll be when you find him.”
“But, Polly, how do I know I won’t be trading one despicable husband for another? Can you guarantee me a man I could love? Or happiness?”
“We are women, Julie. Are we ever given any guarantees in life? How many women do you know who are forced into loveless marriages by conniving fathers without a thought for their daughter’s feelings? I’ll wager there are too many to count. Love is a luxury not many of us are fortunate enough to experience.”
“I’ve … I’ve never thought of it that way,” admitted Julie, awed by her newfound friend’s understanding that far surpassed her years.
“At least I’m placing my future in my own hands. It’s my choice to go to California. I have faith that the man chosen to become my husband is a good and kind man. And I’ll make him a good wife. What about you, Julie?” Polly challenged. “Are you brave enough to take charge of your own future?”
Julie hesitated but a few moments before giving her answer. “Where will I find your Mr. Goddard?”
Polly hugged Julie exuberantly. “I’m so glad, Julie. It will work out, you’ll see.”
Together Polly and Julie hoisted Julie’s carpetbag between them and walked the few blocks to a small storefront office sandwiched between two large buildings. The sign posted on the front window in bold, black letters drew Julie like a magnet as she paused to read the advertisement. “Young ladies of good reputation wanted,” the sign proclaimed. “If you are willing to travel to California, all expenses paid, to embark upon a great adventure, inquire inside. Thirty berths available to the lucky women who will find husbands waiting for them at the end of their journey.”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Julie pushed open the door and stepped inside, followed closely by Polly. Bolstered by the support of her new friend, Julie walked on quaking limbs to where a middleaged man with thinning hair sat behind a desk. Looking up the man smiled pleasantly as he spied Julie. “I’m Julius Goddard,” he said, extending his hand.
Exactly one-half hour later, Julie left the office clutching an official paper bearing the number thirty. She was astounded at the ease with which she decided her future. Mr. Goddard had been all Polly said he was. With skill and patience he had extracted information concerning her background without her actually knowing what he was about. Julie had the presence of mind to say she was alone in the world after the untimely death of her aunt. Julius Goddard was tactful and understanding of the great upheaval facing most of the girls who, for reasons of their own, chose to take up the chall
enge and journey west to marry complete strangers.
“I had almost given up hope of finding my last girl,” lamented Mr. Goddard when he handed Julie the last berth available aboard the Westwind. “You are an answer to my prayer, my dear,” the congenial man beamed. “I hated to disappoint any of the young men anxiously awaiting your arrival. I am greatly relieved to have fulfilled the obligation I have undertaken. My wife, Martha, and myself felt it our Christian duty to bring marriage and a home life to young men who otherwise would fall prey to prostitutes and fortune hunters.”
In a state bordering on numbness, Julie found herself outside on the sidewalk staring dumbly at the sheet of paper, trying to conjure up the image of the man holding the corresponding number in far off California.
“Come along, Julie,” Polly urged, nudging the nearly paralyzed girl forward. “You’d better come home with me. My rent is paid for a few more days and we can’t take the chance of your uncle finding you and forcing you to return to him.”
At the mention of her uncle Julie finally came alive. Producing one of the coins she had stolen from Hugo the girls hired a carriage to take them to a tiny two room apartment above a saloon that Polly had shared with her mother. After a meager meal consisting of the cheese, bread and sausage Julie had taken from home and hot tea produced by Polly, they retired early. Because the Westwind was sailing on the early morning tide two days hence, the girls would be allowed to board the next afternoon to settle themselves into their cabins and acquaint themselves with their fellow passengers and new home for the next six months.
The only bad moment came when they left Polly’s rooms and saw two policemen at the end of the street questioning residents. Thinking her uncle had set the authorities onto her, Julie quickly produced another coin and hailed a hack to carry them and their baggage to the docks. At precisely noon, Julie and Polly boarded the Westwind and were shown to a cabin they would share with three other women.
Julie and Polly were nearly the only ones up the next morning at dawn when the Westwind slipped her moorings and slid from her berth into the gray mists surrounding the harbor. As the shrouded buildings and winding streets disappeared from sight Julie could not help but feel icy fingers of apprehension clutch at her heart. Was she doing the right thing, she wondered? What fate awaited her in far off California? Would she be reunited with her father? Squaring her slim shoulders and lifting her small pointed chin, Julie knew that come what may, she was prepared to meet her destiny.
