Cheyenne Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Brides Book 13)
Page 5
“I appreciate it. Glad I could help,” Logan said.
At home…
Cal sank back into the cushions of his sofa, and opened the letter. He smiled. Her name is Jennie. It’s a pretty name. Jennie Simpson and she’s from South Carolina. She told her son about writing, and even let him read my letter. I like her. Wonder what she looks like? She sure has a great outlook on life. Take what comes your way and do the best you can with it. We could all do better if we lived our lives that way I’m going to have to let them release my name. Wonder what she will think about Wyoming.
chapter Twelve
Hello Jennie, I’m Cal
Dear Jennie, I received your letter today, and of course I wanted to answer immediately. It is nice to have a name, although I thought 4694 was a nice number. So you’re from one of the Carolinas!
My name is Cal Pierce. Actually Calvin, but no one has called me that since my mother, and she only used it when I was in trouble. Which was fairly often, though.
My address is included here, and I’ve directed the editor to release it.
My ranch is the Circle CP, and it is outside Cheyenne, Wyoming, and not very far from the Kansas and Colorado borders.
You asked about mountains. We do have mountains. We are on the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. On a clear day, our views are spectacular. The elevation is a bit over 6,000 feet. It can lead to some really cold winters, and we get plenty of snow. Am I discouraging you yet? I hope not. It isn’t my intention, believe me. Quite the contrary. We have railroad passenger service, and aren’t that far from the point where the East met the West on the Transcontinental Railroad.
I want to tell you again, I am so pleased to have a name to go with the letters,
I recently bought some additional land for the ranch. With the dry climate, we need more grazing land than many places, so my foreman thought we needed some more acreage.
With that, I bid you goodnight, and I hope to hear back from you soon.
Sincerely, Cal Pierce.
With the letter sealed and ready for the mail, Cal looked for Clay to discuss his recent purchases.
“Clay, I just submitted a bid for 11,000 acres. The land agent said there should be no problem and it will be ours in two weeks.
“I talked to Arnold Burke about fencing. I know you don’t really care for it, but he said several of the local folks are going that way to keep the squatters out. He said it cuts the losses on strays, and cuts down the number of men needed to run the herd.
“He’s going to check on prices for me. Be honest with me here. Does your dislike come from your trail driving days or do you not think it would be good for the ranch?”
Clay said, “Truthfully, it’s because the farmers strung it to keep the drives from the water, or so they could charge a toll to pass through. I think open range is going away, myself. If you want to go that way, then we go that way. It would cut down on the amount of time we spend rounding up strays, and it would probably let us cut two cowboys. I would hate to see some of the men lose their job. We’ve got a good crew. Better than any other place around here.”
“If we added land and increased the size of the herd, we wouldn’t have to hire additional help, would we>”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. You got a point there. One thing we haven’t mentioned is we’d have to ride the fence checking for breaks.”
“Do we really want to increase the herd?” Cal asked.
“Depends on how much money you want,” Clay said.
“Life was so much simpler back when I was a miner. Just scoop a pan full of sand and shake it and let water wash it, and you knew immediately whether it was beans or steak for the next month.”
“I hear you, boss. If the bulls do their job, then we grow. When you get to the root of it all, it’s a crapshoot.”
Yorkville, SC The Simpson Farm…
“I have a letter, and a name now,” Jennie told her son. “His name is Cal Pierce, and he lives outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming. It’s on the edge of the Rocky Mountains. In the letter, he says the name of his ranch is the Circle CP. He told me he just bought some more land so he can add more cattle.”
“How much land does he have anyway,” Chris asked. We have 160 acres and it’s as much as I can handle. Mama, something doesn’t sound right.”
“He said the elevation is 6,000 feet, and the grass isn’t very good at that elevation and it takes more land for the cattle. It sounds good to me,” she said.
“I think you should talk to Grandpa. He knows about these kinds of things,” Chris said.
“I plan to,” she said. “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. I promise I’ll talk to him the next time we visit.”
* * *
Grandpa’s house…
“Grandpa, I’m worried about Mama. She’s writing to this man and doesn’t even know him. She says she’s lonely, even though I’m here,” Chris said, to his paternal grandfather.
“She’s still writing?”
“Yessir. She got his name and address yesterday. His name is Cal Pierce. He says he owns a ranch named the Circle CP in Cheyenne, Wyoming. What kind of name is Circle CP anyway?”
“It’s probably his brand, I think they use it to mark their cattle to identify them,” Clarence told his grandson.
“She doesn’t even know for sure he has a ranch. Can’t you do something?” Chris asked.
“Let me think about it,” Clarence said.
“Thanks Grandpa.”
Clarence went to the Western Union office and talked with the telegrapher. They decided together, to send a telegram to the Cheyenne Western Union Office. It asked Name to contact regarding Circle CP Ranch?
The response said “Cheyenne Land and Cattle Company, James Logan.
Clarence then sent a telegram to Jim Logan that asked, Need to know contact name for Circle CP Ranch.
Logan contacted Cal, “Mr. Pierce, I received a strange telegram asking who the contact was for the Circle CP. I didn’t answer it. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Where was the telegram from, Jim?”
“It came from a Clarence Simpson in Yorkville, South Carolina. Should I answer it?” Logan asked.
“I’ll take care of it, Jim. Thanks for letting me know.
At the Cheyenne Western Union Office, Cal said, “I want to send a telegram to Clarence Simpson ─Cal Pierce is owner of Circle CP who you stop why you ask (s) Cal Pierce.
The next day…
“Mr. Pierce, this telegram arrived for you,” the Western Union telegrapher said.
Cal looked at the paper and laughed. It read, Jennie Simpson’s concerned father in law. Thanks for response. stop
Someone is watching out for Jennie. I’ll write.
chapter Thirteen
I Got a Telegram
Dear Jennie, I hope this finds you in good health and spirit. I like it better, now our exchanges happen much quicker. Things are going well in Cheyenne as we near the end of spring. A strange thing occurred recently, of which you may not have been aware. I have done considerable business with the Cheyenne Land and Cattle office, and the manager feels some loyalty to me.
He recently came to me and told me about a telegram he had received inquiring about the Circle CP and the owner. The telegram came from Yorkville and one Clarence Simpson. It seems a relative of yours was checking to find out if I am legitimate. I will ask my pastor and my banker to provide references if that will put you at ease. I feel sure this was from a concerned relative.
Considering the questions, I will make this short until I hear you are at ease with our correspondence. Until the next time, I remain, Yours truly, Cal.
Jennie opened the letter from Cal. Upset by what she read, she hitched the wagon and rode to her in-laws’ farm.
“Papa Clarence, do you know anything about this?” She handed him the letter.
He read it and said, “Now Jennie, Chris was worried about you and what you might be getting into. He was concerned this
feller might not be who he said. He asked if there was anything I could do. This is the result of my feeble attempt to put his mind at rest. We love you, Jennie, and we don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of by some slick talking stranger.”
“I’m a grown woman, and can take care of myself. So help me, if you’ve messed this up for me, I will… I don’t know what I will do, but it won’t be pleasant.”
“Jennie, it was out of love, you know that.”
“Yes, I do know that, but I wish you hadn’t done it. As for Chris, I…” She gathered her skirt, kissed Clarence on the cheek and went home.
She dished Chris’s dinner, then fixed her own plate and sat opposite him at the table. “What have you been doing lately?” she asked. “Been sneaking to the barn with Amy Lou?” she asked.
“No Mama. She’s a good girl. We don’t do that.”
“What do you do?” she asked.
“We talk, and take walks, you know?”
“Send any telegrams lately?”
“What are you talking about,” he asked.
“You don’t expect me to believe you and your Grandpa haven’t been up to something, do you?”
“You’re talking crazy,” he said.
“Oh come on, Chris. I was born, but it wasn’t yesterday. I know what you did. Your Grandpa owned up to it. You might as well do the same.”
“Mama, it was just you didn’t know he was who he said he was, that’s all. I was worried.”
“How do you know it was him that sent the answer? It could have been anyone and just put his name to it,” she asked.
“You should not have done it. How would you like it if I went to Amy Sue’s papa and told him I was worried about what you two are doing.”
“Mama, you wouldn’t do that… would you?’
“No dear, I wouldn’t do that and you shouldn’t have done what you did. What if you’ve ruined this for me?”
“Well, he wouldn’t be much of a man if he let something like what we did ruin things. We love you.”
“I guess he wouldn’t. We’ll see,” she said. “Now eat your dinner. And you can clean the kitchen.”
“Yes, Mama.”
* * *
I got to the bottom of it. My son was worried I was getting a bit feeble in my old age, so he and his Grandpa cooked up this scheme to do some checking. Neither of them mentioned anything to me before or after. I hope it didn’t put you off or anything. They meant well. Said it was because they loved me. It was a nice try, but there’s an expression here, “That dog don’t hunt.”
Our farm is doing well. We got the rain at the right time and the crop looks good. Now, if we can get it in and to the gin, we’ll make the bank some money and a little for us too.
I was looking at an atlas. Wyoming is a long way from Carolina. It’s all the way across the country from us.
In your next letter, tell me about your house. If those two didn’t scare you away, that is. I’ll have to say a prayer about that. Until then, Sincerely, Jennie..
Cal read the letter and composed his answer.
Dear Jennie, I have just about run out of things to write. Without meaning to scare you or push you, I think it is time to consider meeting. Would you agree? We have been writing for a little over two months. Would you consider coming to Cheyenne? It is a logical next step, and one I am anxious to take. Of course, I will provide transportation, and if you do not find things to your liking, I will provide return transportation.
My feeling is we both started with an idea of marriage being a possibility. I am more than ready to explore that avenue.
“Let me know your thoughts, and we will go from there.
“You asked about the ranch house. It has three bedrooms; one is downstairs and the other two upstairs. There is a living room, and dining room, and of course a kitchen. Unfortunately, the furnishings reflect a man’s tastes… mine. It is bare of any decorations. The living room has a fireplace as does the bedroom.
The stove in the kitchen is new, and so is the icebox. There is a pump in the kitchen also.
I believe it is a comfortable home and hope you will feel the same way.
I await your answer with great anxiety.
Sincerely, Cal.
* * *
chapter Fourteen
I Can’t Do It
The letter arrived on Tuesday.
“Oh my,” Jennie said after reading it. She sat fanning herself with her hand.
“Now what do I do?” she questioned herself.
The letter was on her lap when Chris came in from the field. “A letter, Mama? Did he say anything about Grandpa and me?”
“No, he didn’t mention it,” she said.
“Well, what?” he asked.
She handed the letter to him. He read it, looked at her and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” his mother answered truthfully. “I’ve hoped this would come about, and now that he asked, I realize just how big a step this would be. I would be going all of the way across the country, and if you didn’t go, I would probably never see you again. I’m not sure I can do it,” she said.
“You could just not answer it,” Chris said.
“I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair,” she said. “I’m going to have to think about it.”
The next morning…
“Did you decide what you are going to do, Mama?” Chris asked.
“I’m going to tell the truth. I’m going to tell him I’m not sure whether I can leave my family and what little I do have here for… for I don’t know what.”
“Mama, if you want to do this, I will go with you. You don’t have to face it alone,” he said.
“That would mean you would be giving up what you want, for something I don’t even know if I want. It’s so unfair, I won’t even consider it,” she said.
Dear Cal, I have spent the past two days considering this decision. I’m sorry for being so slow to answer your letter, but I’m overwhelmed by the enormity of taking such a step. I’ve tried to consider all of the things I know, but the things I don’t know, bother me. To leave my family, and the place I’ve lived my all my life to travel somewhere across the country, I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve discussed it with my son and he has said he would go with me, because he doesn’t want me to face it alone. That would mean asking him to leave the farm and the work he loves. I can’t ask him to do that.
I told you Chris and I have always taken what fate brings, and to do the best we can with it. I’m going to have to face what is in store for me here. I apologize. I’m deeply sorry for misleading you, but I truly didn’t know my own mind.
Yours truly, Jennie.
Her eyes red from the tears she had shed, she sealed the letter with several drops of wax from a candle. She mailed it the next morning.
Cheyenne five days later…
Cal sat on the bench outside the store to read the letter from Jennie. The letter he had been waiting for. He opened it and began to read. As he read, his smile faded. She couldn’t do it. She turned me down. Damn. Damn. Did I rush things?
He stuffed the letter in his shirt and walked down the street to the church. As he had expected, Clem was there, cleaning and making the church ready for the Sunday services.
When Cal walked into the sanctuary, Clem looked up and greeted Cal as always, with a firm handshake and asked, “How have you been?”
Then he saw the expression on his friend’s face. “You look like you’ve lost your last friend. What’s wrong, buddy?”
“She turned me down, Clem. I asked her to come out, offered to pay her way and everything and she turned me down. I had really counted on this and was looking forward to showing her the ranch. And marrying. I wanted to marry her.”
“What did she say? Did she give you a reason?” Clem asked.
Wordless, Cal handed the letter to Clem. “Go ahead and read it,” he said.
Clem sat on a bench by a window to take advantage of t
he filtered light. He read it twice, and looked at the writing closely.
“Cal, come over here, and let me show you something.”
Cal sat by him. “What?” he asked.
“Look at the paper,” Clem said. “Those are tear stains. She was crying when she wrote this. She was afraid, and her fear kept her from doing something she wanted to do.”
“Are you sure?” Cal asked.
“As sure as I can be,” he said.
“Well, I’ll be. I think you’re right,” Cal said. “She told me she had never been more than twenty miles from home, and I was asking her to travel across the continent. Why should she be the one to travel? Why don’t I do the traveling, and then let her decide?
“Clem, thank you. You have just helped me make a decision that may change my life. At the very least, I’ll get to see a lot more of our country,” Cal said.
Clem smiled. “Helping a friend always helps you more,” he thought. “So, what are you going to do?” he asked.
“Do? I’m going to South Carolina. She doesn’t have to take on the unknown. I’m taking it for her.”
Four days later, when the train pulled into the Yorkville station, the conductor came through, announcing the station and telling all interested, it was only a ten minute stop. Cal Pierce was one of two passengers leaving the train.
“Where might I rent a carriage and get some directions?” he asked the station agent.
“Mose, down at the livery, has a carriage he rents occasionally,” the agent said. “He can pretty much tell you where everything is around here.”
Carrying his luggage, Cal walked to the livery stable. “Are you Mose,” he asked the old man forking hay to the horses.
The old man spat, and wiped the tobacco juice from his chin. “Depends on who’s asking” he said.
Cal extended his hand. “Name’s Cal Pierce. I need a horse and carriage for a few days. I’m looking for the Simpson place.”