by White, Carré
The Colorado Brides
Book Six
An Unexpected Husband
Carré White
Copyright © 2013 Carré White
All Rights Reserved
Kindle Edition
http://carrewhite.wordpress.com/
http://twitter.com/CarreWhite
Carré White’s Mail List
Email:
[email protected]
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
The Colorado Territory, Sept 1867
I was trying desperately to learn how to admire rather than envy, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. What was it about babies that I found so irresistible? Not only that, but I yearned for one of my own, lamenting the fact that of all the men I had met in the last two years of Friday night socials—none of them had interested me even remotely.
The person I envied was none other than my older sister, Jane. She had married Ryan Hartsock two years ago, and they had recently had a baby, who was five-months-old. Little Gordon was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. With his olive-toned skin, shiny, nearly black hair, and those luminous chocolate-colored eyes—he took my breath away. Having completed school and while I waited for a husband, I had taken it upon myself to spend as much time at Jane’s house as possible. She and Ryan lived with Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman, the older couple having plenty of room in their house on Hannah’s property. They too adored Gordon. Jane had more than a few willing caregivers, as we all freely volunteered to watch the little one.
With every spare moment of freedom that came my way, I saddled Sally Anne, galloping towards the Weaver farm. Hannah and Nathan had recovered from the grasshopper infestation of two seasons ago; the fields were now bursting with corn and wheat. Harvest neared, as summer had given way to fall, although the leaves hadn’t changed yet. The briskness of the morning air had necessitated a heavier jacket, and soon I would have to wear further layers, but I was determined to help my sister, whether she wanted my assistance or not.
Hannah’s farm bustled with activity. Workers pitched hay, while I glimpsed Charlie wandering to the barn with a bucket of water. Letty was in school now. Hannah’s wagon was missing, indicating that she must be in town running her errands. I left Sally Anne in the paddock, closing the gate behind me, as I hurried to the Hoffman house across the way. The wooden, two-story structure sported a small front porch with a hitching post to the side. There were two wagons nearby, standing idle.
I entered without knocking, hearing the cries of a baby. Jane was in the kitchen. Mrs. Hoffman was speaking. “His teeth must be coming in.”
“Isn’t it too early for that yet?” My sister looked frazzled; her hair had been hastily arranged, the loose strands escaping a frilly, white cap.
“Good morning,” I said cheerily.
Jane eyed me sourly. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“Why should I? I practically live here.” I held out my hands. “Give him to me.”
“I didn’t sleep at all. I’m exhausted.”
“He was a bit of a rascal last night,” admitted Mrs. Hoffman. “The walls are rather thin.”
“I’m sorry we bothered you.”
“I don’t mind, my dear. George could sleep through a buffalo stampede, but I usually wake at the slightest noise. I’ll have a nap later.”
With Gordon in my arms, his warm body pressed against me, I was only half listening to the conversation. He’d stopped fussing almost instantly, while I cuddled him, brushing my lips across his forehead. Jane had a pot on the stovetop, making what looked like oatmeal.
She wiped her hands on an apron. “Mary.”
“Yes?”
“Have a seat.” She pointed to the kitchen table. “I’ll make tea.”
I slid onto the chair with Gordon in my arms; his look was attentive, as he stared at Mrs. Hoffman with his pink, shiny lips parted. He was entirely quiet now. “Good morning, Gordon,” I murmured. I kissed his forehead again for good measure. “Sweet pea.”
“There you are,” cooed Mrs. Hoffman. “You’re a good boy. You’ve calmed down nicely.”
A piece of paper came my way. “I’ve taken the liberty of helping you in your search for employment.” Jane smiled pleasantly. “I found that on the wall of the post office. I might’ve…um…stolen it.”
“What?” I was entirely confused now. “What search for employment?”
“You should read it. It might interest you.”
Businessman seeks live-in nanny for six-month-old girl. Must be at least eighteen-years of age, well-spoken, clean, and polite. Please apply to the Broadwell House on the corner of Larimer and Sixteenth. References are necessary. Wages are negotiable.
I glanced at Jane. “Are you trying to get rid of me? I thought you wanted my help.”
“You said you needed a job. I’ve Mrs. Hoffman and Susanna to help me, Mary. There’s no reason for you to be trapped here. It’s imperative that you get out and meet people.” Her look was pointed.
“I’ve met plenty of people. I thought you needed my help?”
“You’ve been wonderful, you really have. You adore children a great deal. Now you may have the pleasure of being with them and an income all at the same time. Wouldn’t spending money be lovely? Wouldn't a job in town be exciting?”
I didn’t know if I should be grateful or angry with my sister. “I suppose, but I don’t have the job.”
“I’ve written you a glowing recommendation and so has Hannah.”
“This is a fine way of showing your appreciation by tossing me out the door.”
She sighed. “For heaven’s sake. You need to find a husband, and you’ll never do it here, hiding on a farm.”
“You found a husband on a farm.”
“That would be hard to deny,” said Mrs. Hoffman, smiling.
“I did, but it was...different.” Jane asserted, “Just…just go and interview with the family. It can’t hurt to see them.”
I glanced at the paper. “It’s not a family. He’s a businessman. He’s staying in a hotel. A fine example of a sister you are. You’d send me to a strange man’s hotel room.”
“Have you any clue who he is?” Mrs. Hoffman took a look at the paper. “It says nothing of his name or any other pertinent information.”
“It could be any manner of person. He’s in need of a nanny. That’s all I know. I’m sure nothing untoward’s happening there, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“The Broadwell House is near the Criterion saloon,” I said. “Thieves and gamblers call it home. I shall be either stabbed, shot, or robbed.” I glared at Jane, who clearly wanted to
get rid of me, the ungrateful wretch. This had been an unexpected and unpleasant surprise. “Have I done something to offend you?”
“No, for pity’s sake, no, of course not. You’ve been a great help to me, and I know you love Gordon, but it’s important to be seen by people. Don’t you want to meet potential suitors?”
“Have you seen the riffraff in town? I’d hardly consider any of them suitors. I’ve been to Friday night socials for two years now. There isn’t anyone that interests me in the least. I’ve met all the eligible bachelors, thank you.”
Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “You should at least apply and interview for the position. You’ll be the only one, since I took that paper down. Your chances of employment are very high.” She grinned saucily. “You’re always welcome here; you know that. You can see Gordon whenever you wish. Nothing has changed in that respect.”
“When did you take the paper?”
“Yesterday.”
I lifted Gordon, staring at his sweet face. “I…love this little angel.”
“I know you do.”
My sister had a point, although I wasn’t going to admit it. I might have been hiding at the Weaver farm, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want a husband. The pickings in town were slim, although the promise of the railroad had created a buzz, and, once it was built, there would be an influx of people. It might still be years before that happened.
“All right. I’ll do it, but, if any harm comes to me from being in town, it’ll be your fault.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.” She held out her hands. “Now, give him back. I have to feed him.”
“He’s just fine.”
Her expression tightened. “Mary.”
“Oh, tar balls!” I got to my feet, kissing Gordon’s forehead, yet again. “I’ll miss you, sweetie. Your mother is an evil woman. She’s separating us, and I’ll be gone now. It’s a sad day for everyone.” I wasn’t entirely serious, enjoying the look of vexation on Jane’s face. “Yes, she’s pure evil.”
Laughter filled the room. “My word, you’re both vastly entertaining, but I’ve some washing to do.” Mrs. Hoffman was on her feet. “Then I should see where my husband’s gone to.”
Gordon was in his mother’s arms now. “Thank you, Mary.”
I took the paper from the table. “I guess I’ll be leaving now, although I don’t want to. I never thought I’d live to see the day when my own sister disowned me.”
“You know I adore you, Mary. Stop the melodrama. I want you to have the opportunity to meet your future husband, and you won’t do that in this house. Isn’t it exciting, knowing you’ll be in town? Just think of all the amusements to be had. It’ll be highly diverting.”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be able to witness firsthand the thieves and gamblers in all their glory and maybe even a bank robbery or two. Or better yet, a duel! Or a hanging! A fine place you’re sending me to, Jane.”
“My dear,” said Mrs. Hoffman. “The last duel was in 1860. I doubt there will be more. Hangings are rare, and those that are hung certainly deserve it. There are far less vigilantes running around now. It’s perfectly safe.”
Jane rubbed her forehead. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s only stupid men killing each other. You’ll be safe enough inside the Broadwell House.”
Reaching for my bonnet, I placed it on my head, tying the sash beneath my chin. “You say that now, but…once I’m dead and buried, you’ll regret sending me into harm’s way.”
“I apologize in advance for your suffering.” The grin on her face left little doubt that she was teasing.
Folding the paper, I slid it into a pocket. “I guess this is farewell then.”
“Good luck, my dear.” Mrs. Hoffman held out her hand, taking mine and giving it a squeeze. “You’ll do fine. What an adventure you’ll have.”
My mouth had turned down. “No doubt.”
Jane reached into her skirt, withdrawing two envelopes. “Here are references from Hannah and me.” She smiled brightly. “We wrote them glowingly.”
I didn’t quite know what to say to this. “Thank you.”
“And bring a copy of the News, my dear. I’m dying to know what’s going on in the world. I haven’t been to town since last Sunday.”
“I will.” With one last look at Gordon, the baby suckling at Jane’s breast, I reluctantly took my leave, heading for the door, although I felt saddened by the fact that my own sister had turned me out. I would never admit it, but the thought of applying for a job terrified me. I stopped in the doorway. “What if I’m unsuccessful? May I watch over Gordon?”
“Of course, but I doubt that’ll be the case. You’ll find work.”
“A pretty girl such as yourself will do very well.” Mrs. Hoffman nodded affirmatively. “Not only is she adept at minding babies, but she’s pleasing to the eye and her manner is respectful and polite. Only a fool would overlook her obvious qualities.”
“Precisely! She’ll be hired on the spot.”
I was thoroughly annoyed now, but I masked my feelings. I had not planned on traveling to town today. The dress I wore was passable, but hardly the nicest I owned. As I stepped from the house, I fought the urge to take the horse and race home, forgoing Denver City all together. I had plenty of work to do. I could assist Fanny with Thomas with the chores, which were never-ending, but, as I retrieved the mare from the paddock and stepped into the stirrup, I’d made up my mind. I would go see about this job, although my chances of being hired were slim. I was certain there were far more qualified ladies in town with even better references than the ones I had.
“This shall be a short trip,” I murmured. “Let’s go, Sally Anne. If nothing else, at least you’ll get your exercise this morning.”
And it was indeed a lovely day, still cool, but the sun had begun to warm me, the heat seeping through the shawl that was draped around my shoulders. There were others on the road, a horse and wagon up ahead, as people began their day. Farmers were in the fields, tending to crops. Harvest wasn't far off; the rains of summer had left the prairie lushly green, smattered with the yellow buds of sunflower-like weeds. There were snowcaps on the mountains in the distance, but they would melt by midday.
The serenity of nature began to diminish, as I neared town with its bustling thoroughfares and newly built brick businesses. I rode until I reached Lawrence Street, which was home to the infamous Criterion saloon. This was where the drunkards and thieves took up residence. I ignored the shouts and whistles of men, keeping my expression as bland as possible. Most of the miners from years ago had disappeared, because the easy to reach surface deposits had played out. They now worked deeper in the mountains, engaged in hard rock mining, or they had gone back east.
Our only hotel, the Broadwell House, with its decorative girders and lengthy front porch, was on the corner of Larimer and Sixteenth. The three-story clapboard structure was known for its luxurious accommodations, yet wildly diverse patrons. Everyone from trappers, miners, and the local elite had stayed here at one point or another. I had been inside once, because a friend had held her wedding reception here. As I dismounted Sally Anne, I tied the horse to the hitching post, mindful not to step in anything foul, because other animals had been here.
The lobby was rectangular with plush carpeted floors and mirrored walls behind a lengthy counter. A man dressed in a white shirt and suspenders spoke with a newly arrived couple, while a maid dusted a stone sculpture of a buffalo that sat on a small table. I waited for the couple to leave, approaching the counter.
“How can I help you?” the man asked.
“I’m here in regards to the nanny position.”
He smiled. “Ah, yes. That’ll be Mr. Carlyle’s suite, number thirty-two. You may go up. It’s on the second floor. I believe he’s still in residence.”
“Thank you.”
I vaguely remembered where the stairs were, passing the dining room, which teemed with men in top hats and sack coats, while women wore morning dresse
s. The aroma of coffee lingered as well as the acrid scent of tobacco. The maids were out in force, cleaning rooms, while couples strolled by; some carried luggage. The room in question was at the end of the hallway, although the door had just swung open, revealing a woman, who held a handkerchief to her nose.
She gazed at me with watery eyes. “I wouldn’t go in there, if I was you.”
She hurried by, while I stared after her. It was then that I heard the distinct sound of a baby crying.
Chapter Two
I knocked on the door, bracing myself for what I might find. Seeing the woman in tears did not bode well, but her emotional state was not my concern.
A maid appeared before me, dressed in black with a starched white apron. “You must be here for the nanny position.”
“Yes, I am.” A baby continued to cry, while I craned my neck to see further into the room.
“Do you have references? I can’t let you in unless you have a reference, two preferably.”
“I have them.”
She stood aside. “Very well then.”
“Thank you.” The parlor was furnished in heavy, dark furniture with equally heavy drapes and a thick carpet. A woman held a baby, while speaking to a man, although, from the stern expression on his face, the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one.
She said, “I’ve the strongest respect for discipline, sir. I believe that it’s necessary to allow the child to cry…to…to teach it to not expect to be coddled with each and every whimper.” She grasped the baby stiffly, as its wails continued unabated.
I hadn’t been perceived yet, as the maid had disappeared, though I was only several feet from them, standing with my hands behind my back.
“It is possible to spoil them thoroughly at this age, sir. A firm hand and a firm will are required when dealing with children, infants especially. They’ll learn to quiet themselves naturally when they know they won’t be indulged each time they fuss.”
The baby continued to scream, the sound escalating by the second. The rough manner in which it was being held seemed to exacerbate the situation. The man, who I presumed was the father, began to rub his forehead, using the tips of his fingers. Not being able to help myself, I approached them, reaching for the baby.
