by Bella Bowen
He laughed aloud and pushed the hotel door open.
If only finding my wife could be that easy.
~ ~ ~
Fontaine hadn't exaggerated when she'd said the ranch wasn't far, and Lizzy’s backside was grateful.
The woman pointed at an elaborate entrance just ahead. A stone wall and iron gates braced apart two steep hills.
“There used to be a massive arch there,” Fontaine said, “as high as two houses on top of each other, before it burned. This is pretty and all, but nothing like it used to be.”
Two men pulled the gates apart to let their little wagon through. Fontaine pushed back her hat and waved. One man smiled and waved in return, and Lizzy realized it wasn't a man at all—just another woman dressed in a man's things, toting a gun over one shoulder, and hiding her hair beneath the collar of her long oil-skinned coat.
Lizzy turned to gawk, but the other guard had moved away.
“Don't bother,” Fontaine said. “She's a woman too. Ain't no men allowed on the ranch now that the buildings are finished.”
No men?
Lizzy laughed. “It's gonna be a little hard to find a husband, then, isn't it?”
Fontaine laughed back. “You'll meet them at the dances in town. If a bona fide gentleman likes you, courtin's done in town too, with a chaperon of course. An armed chaperon. If the man likes you, he'll ask for you.”
“I don't suppose it will matter what I think about him.”
“Oh, sure it will. This is a business arrangement. All parties must be willing. If you don't like the man, he can't court you anymore. Anyone who ain't on his best behavior doesn't get far around here.”
Lizzy's heart soared at that happy news. She didn't have to marry anyone she didn't like? How wonderful! No mail order brides then? No promising herself to a man she’d never seen?
She couldn’t help but ask, “Is Mrs. Carnegie not right in the head or something?”
Fontaine grinned. “Sometimes.” Then she laughed. “And we all thank God for it.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The ranch house was a beautiful Victorian manor with white columns around the front porch, high pitched roofs, and delicate white gingerbreading in the corners. The house itself was brick and the setting sun cast a pink light across it. Large blooming bushes framed the yard and paths of small flat stones made a network across the grass like a broken spider's web.
“We call this the big house, but it's really the smallest. Stoddard House is for the staff, like me. And Tucker House is for the brides. I'll take you around back and hand you off to Gussy. Only you'll have to call her Mrs. Gusdavisson. She'll assign you a room and give you the rules. Then it'll be her who makes your appointment with Mrs. Carnegie.”
The houses she spoke of made the large barn look small. Both were two stories tall, like the big house, but with a third story of dormers windows. An attic, perhaps. Would she be put there?
She only realized she was shaking when Fontaine offered to hand her down. She put her hand in the other woman's and discovered the pretty female had a powerful grip. She also had a huge rifle she slid from under the seat and slung over her shoulder, looking as deadly as the two at the gate.
“Don't fret, none, Miss Elizabeth. Mrs. Carnegie is careful when she chooses her brides. You'll be treated well here by the rest of them, even if you weren't back home.”
Lizzy stood with her tongue tied while she watched Fontaine head for Stoddard House. She barely noticed when another woman fetched her large bag out of the wagon bed. She was too busy wondering how her driver had known she hadn't been treated well under her uncle's roof?
“Elizabeth, is it? I'm Mrs. Gusdavisson,” said a grumpy woman standing on the top of three steps that led into Tucker House. “You can call me Gussy, but not to my face.” She waved Lizzy forward. “I've got a pretty blue room for you, Miss. If you don't like blue, I'll see if another gal will trade you.”
Lizzy laughed to herself. She didn't have to marry a man she didn't like—she didn't even have to stay in a room if she didn't care for the color of the walls? What magical place was this?
“You'll meet Mrs. Carnegie, but not until tomorrow at least. She's gone and twisted her ankle and she's in a world of pain.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Gussy's frown wrinkled up into a smile and she patted Lizzy's cheek. “Aren't you sweet,” she said, then suddenly the frown was back like maybe it wasn't a frown at all, but only the weight of her skin that pulled it all toward the floor. “But no. Ain't nothing for it but time.” She led Lizzy up a wide staircase and down a hallway where she flung open a door and gestured for Lizzy to go in first. “There is a hot bath waiting for you. Bath house is that little building out back. No men around, so don't worry about coming and going as you please. Mrs. Carnegie wants no one taking more than one bath a day. She says it ain't good for the soul and it's hard on the staff.” She chuckled. “We got an Injun woman and a black woman here, so you might find them in the bathhouse. I suggest you remember that they’re slightly more important than you are in Mrs. Carnegie's eyes, so I you'd best treat them with respect. Now let's see.”
The woman paused and tapped her toe while looking at the ceiling, muttering.
“Oh, and you'll have your schedule in a day or two that will tell you where you need to be and when. But until then, you can relax and get to know the place. Get to know the other brides. But don't get too attached. None of you will be here long, and I do hate to see you all cry.”
Gussy pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “You'll find a dressing gown in the wardrobe along with one dress. If it doesn't fit, you ring that bell in the corner and someone will come. You just tell them what's wrong.”
Lizzy shook her head. “I feel as though I've just been told I'm a princess.”
The old woman smiled again. “That's fine then. That's our Mrs. Carnegie's doin'. But remember ol' Cinderella. She got to go to the ball, but eventually, she had to go home. And you'll go home too, with some nice gentleman. Maybe he'll treat you like a queen and maybe he won't. But you'll have a much better time of it if you pay close attention and learn all Mrs. Carnegie plans to teach you.”
Lizzy gave her an obedient nod. After Gussy left the room, she closed the door and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and said a little prayer of thanks to God and Mrs. Carnegie.
Yes, she might one day be wearing rags and sweeping coals, but for now... For now, she needed to bathe so she could slip on some glass slippers.
Unfortunately, when she imagined herself dancing around a ballroom, she imagined the handsome man from the saloon, the one who thought she was a child.
~ ~ ~
Jake and Caroline ate breakfast in Mrs. Kennedy's dining room, avoiding some rather sharp looks from the sheriff, who apparently dined there on a regular basis.
Caroline was a bit nervous, anticipating the chance to meet Genevieve Carnegie later in the day, so she wasn't completely aware of how rude Devlin Zollinger was being. Otherwise, Jake might have had to call the man outside for a lesson in manners.
Jake stood when Fontaine interrupted near the end of the meal.
“I’ve got a message for you, Mr. Montgomery.” She glanced at the sheriff and cursed. She bit her lip for a moment, then shrugged. “There has been an accident and Mrs. Carnegie was injured.” She looked at Zollinger. “Not badly injured,” then back to Jake, “but enough to make it impossible for her to travel into town. You'll have to come to the ranch. She says she has no choice but to bend the rules. Otherwise you'd be waiting around for a few weeks.” She pointed to Caroline. “She comin' too?”
Jake nodded toward his sister. “This is Lady Laughlin, my sister. When would Mrs. Carnegie like us to come?”
“Now's fine.”
“I'll have the carriage sent for.”
“No need. I have the buggy out front.”
A few minutes later, Caroline sat bug-eyed in the buggy, pinned to her side by Jake's bulk.
But her expression had little to do with their comfort and everything to do with the view.
Fontaine sat astride the pony pulling the buggy. Her backside was the most natural place for their eyes to rest, so they both fought to look anywhere else.
Jake found it funny, which meant Caroline was horrified.
After a few miles, he got tired of fighting it and allowed his mind to wander, as it had often, to that young woman with lines of mud across her face. Poor thing. No one had told her. And from a distance, Jake had feared that her face had been sliced half a dozen times. He was so relieved to find it was only dirt that marred her pretty face that he'd forgot all decorum and helped her. Her blush had warmed the skin as he worked to get it clean. She'd swallowed her pride and allowed him to finish.
Dozens of times now, he’d relived that moment when they’d laughed together over the fact she’d drunk the water the barkeep had intended for her face. So few women allowed themselves an honest laugh, especially when it meant they’d be laughing at themselves.
But she wasn't a woman yet, he reminded himself. Perhaps, when she was a few years older, she wouldn't be able to laugh that way anymore. A few years of maturity would sober her.
Maybe she’d end up as sober as Caroline.
Caroline elbowed him roughly and he realized his gaze was practically attached to Fontaine's derriere. But he would rather allow his sister to believe whatever she believed rather than tell her who he'd actually been thinking about. She would never let him live it down.
CHAPTER SIX
Not a man in sight.
Caroline was speechless, thank goodness.
Jake marveled at the sight of yet more women in britches when they entered Diamond Springs Ranch but was relieved to find the house staff dressed in skirts. Yet another young woman met them at the door of the house and told Jake and Caroline Mrs. Carnegie would see them in the drawing room. However, before they reached the open doorway, the sheriff barged into the house with Fontaine on his heels, her gun drawn. The maid who'd answered the door went running toward the back of the house.
Zollinger stepped into the doorway of the drawing room and turned to face Fontaine, and in spite of the weapon she waved, he put a hand to her chest and shoved her almost hard enough to knock her on that backside Jake had so recently been staring at.
Jake made certain she wasn't harmed, slipped her gun from her hand, and headed for the sheriff. The latter glared at him and closed the doors in his face. The lock clicked before Jake could reach the knob, but he backed up, intending to crash through the doors if necessary. There was something off about Zollinger, and if he'd come to harm Mrs. Carnegie, Jack wouldn't stand by and allow it to happen.
“Don't bother,” said Fontaine. She opened her hand for her weapon, which Jake reluctantly gave her. “He's in love with her. He won't hurt her.” She holstered the gun. “Everyone knows—except maybe Devlin Zollinger.” She laughed, then her smile dropped. “I wasn't supposed to let him know she was hurt, see.” She grimaced and hurried away in the same direction the maid had gone.
Jake looked at Caroline. Together, they looked at the door and turned an ear toward it. They could hear absolutely nothing, and eventually, they moved away. He found a wall to lean against. His sister found a bench and sat. It was a good ten minutes before the knob rattled and the double doors opened.
Caroline came to her feet.
At that same moment, the front door flew open and a woman in a flowing silk dressing gown hurried inside brandishing an antique dueling pistol. Her unbound hair flowed over her shoulders and blended with the gold and browns of the gown. She looked first at Caroline, then her eyes flew wide when she noticed Jake. She raised the shaking gun in his direction and he raised his hands in response.
“Meg said there was a man with a gun threatening Mrs. Carnegie,” she said.
“Get out of my way,” Zollinger growled at her from her right.
She turned the gun on him. “You the one with the gun?”
“I'm the bloody sheriff. And I'm leaving. Your queen bee is fine.”
He tried to step past her again. Her smile stopped him. Her smile stopped Jake too, though he was standing still. It was the mud hen from the day before. And there was something devilish in her grin that promised she wasn't going to take a man's word for anything.
“Mrs. Carnegie,” she called out sweetly. “The sheriff says he'd like to leave. What do you say?”
A sultry laughter came from the depths of the room. “Yes. You can let him go.”
The gun remained steady, no longer shaking. She looked Zollinger up and down, then tilted her head to one side and her smile, very deliberately, dropped away.
The sheriff nodded, as if he'd understood the message intended, and the gun lowered to her side and disappeared behind a fold of silk.
“Sheriff,” she said with a little curtsy.
Zollinger inhaled and exhaled loudly through his nose, then left.
Mrs. Carnegie's voice floated out to them again. “Please, come inside. All of you.”
Jake gestured for the young woman to go in first, then he held out his arm to Caroline who would have been none too happy if he hadn't. After all, to his sister, Mrs. Carnegie might as well have been the American equivalent of Queen Victoria due to her fame in Caroline's usual circles. And one couldn’t meet the queen without being presented, after all.
Mrs. Carnegie was lying on a chaise lounge with a blanket over her lap. She had one foot propped high on a pile of pillows and a small table of decanters at her elbow. The place reeked of Scotch whisky.
“You'll have to forgive me,” she said. “I cannot stand to greet you properly.”
She couldn't have been much over thirty years old, he thought. Perhaps just a little older than him.
“I'm sorry, but Meg seems to have fled in the face of danger. You'll have to introduce yourselves. I'm Genevieve Carnegie.” She held out her hand to Jake and he took it and gave it a squeeze. No doubt Caroline would have him kiss it, but if his sister wanted the woman's hand kissed, she'd have to do it herself.
“Jacob Montgomery, ma’am. And this is my sister, Lady Caroline Laughlin of Boston.”
“Lady Caroline.” She inclined her head.
Caroline curtsied. “Mrs. Carnegie, what a pleasure it is to meet you.”
“And who is this?” She looked to Jake and lifted a brow.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am. We haven't been introduced. But this is the young lady who tried to come to your rescue just a minute ago.”
“Oh?” The woman looked the girl over but seemed unbothered by the dressing gown.
The girl tugged on the edge of the gown and her dueling pistol was revealed.
“Oh! I see. Well, you must be our Elizabeth Tanner.” The woman's eyes lit with enthusiasm. “Please forgive me, my dear. I'm not myself. My foot, you see. And far too much to drink. But it is either drink or sob, you see.” Mrs. Carnegie turned to Jake and narrowed her eyes. “Run along, Elizabeth. Take your brave self off and finish dressing. We'll have a lovely chat after my meeting with this man.” Before the girl was quite out of the room, the woman pointed at her. “You see why I cannot allow men on the premises? With so many pretty women to protect?”
Caroline shook her head, confused. “You can't mean to say that's one of your brides. Surely a man like my brother can't be expected to—”
“A man like your brother? Tell me, Lady Laughlin, what makes your brother worthy of her? I know everything there is to know about the girl, including her character. The only thing I didn’t know is what she looked like, until a moment ago. I know nothing of your brother except that he is interested in a wife, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. And until I know everything about him—everything—he's not to get within a league of one of my girls.”
She turned to Jake again.
“And I'll tell you something, sir. You'd better think good and hard about what kind of wife you want. Something like this,” she waved in Caroline's direction wi
th a look of distaste. “Or that.” She waved at the doors the girl had closed as she'd left.
“Because when you choose a wife, you choose your life, sir.” Her head bobbled a bit. The woman was drunk. “If you decide you prefer a Diamond Springs Bride, you can contact one of my solicitors. You'll find their addresses here.” She pulled a small calling card from her waist pocket and handed it over. “But don't get your hopes up for that one.” She waved toward the doors again. “By the time we have your background checked and I make my ruling, that one will be long gone. I daresay, there will be many a man trying to win her heart.”
Jake’s head was spinning trying to keep up with the fast talking, displaced socialite. But he wanted to understand what it was she was saying.
“Her heart?” he repeated. “Do you mean to tell me your brides have a choice in the matter?”
The drunk woman grinned lopsidedly. “Oh, yes, sir. They do. And once she's said no, you don't get to ask a second time. No one will be compelled to marry here. No one.” She held a hankie to her lips for a moment and Jake realized they were a bit swollen—like she'd been thoroughly kissed.
He suddenly understood why he'd heard nothing from the room while Zollinger had been inside, and he laughed.
Caroline elbowed him. Poor girl, she really was oblivious where high society was concerned. It probably hadn't occurred to her that the esteemed Mrs. Carnegie was drunk.
“Well,” Caroline said, “I doubt you'll have to go to the bother of a checking Jacob's background, madam. In only a day, I think even he has come to understand that the woman he needs to marry cannot possibly be found so far west. He will require a more refined woman at his side. I'm sure you can understand. But at least he has satisfied his curiosity. Isn’t that right, brother?”
Mrs. Carnegie's foot moved as if she was tempted to stand. “I'll pit one of my brides against one of your society girls any day, Lady Laughlin.”
Both women spoke politely, but it was obvious his sister was unaware she was insulting the woman she revered. She wouldn’t care to be corrected, however, so he didn’t try to stop her.
