Annie: A Bride For The Farmhand - A Clean Historical Western Romance (Stewart House Brides Book 3)

by Charity Phillips

  We buried Stephen in as dignified and appropriate a funeral as we could, but it was nearly as rough as the burials from my first trip when many people died from illness and the wagon train had only the time to stop long enough to dig shallow graves and then move on. As soon as he was buried, Sarah told us that she would go to the nearest town and find a way to return home. We wanted to go along with her, but she brushed us all away, saying she wanted to be alone. It was as if she had shut down completely; that the light and life within her had died along with Stephen.

  I still cannot look at Ben's rifle. I killed a man, Diary, and I lifted the gun again to kill a second. I took the life of a breathing man and ended it with the single squeeze of a trigger. I have begged for forgiveness every night since then, tormented by the memory of the sound of the gun and of his body hitting the dirt. Ben says that I did what I had to do to protect all of us, and that the man was only a bandit.

  What does he mean by that—only a bandit? Was he not as much a man as any other? Was he not someone's child? Could he not have been someone's husband and perhaps even someone's father? Does God differentiate, and if He does, how? If His forgiveness and love are for everyone; does it not stand to reason that He is blind when it comes to His children and that He would see that man as not a bandit, but a person who He created carefully and purposefully?

  I do not have the answers, Diary. I do not know if anyone does. All I know is that I never had it in me to even hunt for squirrels with Father during the summer back home, and yet I was capable of shooting down another human being. I am struggling with this more than I could ever tell Ben. He is coping with enough to also have to deal with my confusion and with me questioning what he told me.

  By the grace of Heaven, Ben's wound is healing nicely. The honey truly does seem to be a miracle. Perhaps that is the real reason the Promised Land flowed with milk and honey. I will have to remember to tell Mama about it in my first letter to her when we arrive in California.

  I am going to go to bed now. It always seems that nearly the moment I place my head on the pillow, it is time to lift it again. I know that delays can cause serious problems, but there are times when I long for rain so that we could stop, just for a day, and I could rest.

  --Elizabeth

  ****

  It seemed to take longer to get to California than Elizabeth had remembered, and when they finally arrived, she could barely recognize it. Everything had built up so dramatically over the time since they had been there, nearly four years now, and it was difficult for her to orient herself even as they pulled into the same town where she had arrived with her family.

  Ben had recovered from his wound and was back to his usual self, much to Elizabeth's relief. She had learned to control the wagon and do the other tasks that Ben had not been able to do, but she was happy to allow him to take over these responsibilities so that she could return to her usual role. It felt different to ride into San Francisco sitting on the front bench of the wagon beside Ben than it had sitting in the back of the wagon with her sisters. There wasn't as much of a sense of mystery and wonder as there had been, and her mother was not there to block her eyes from seeing all of the strange and intriguing sights that surrounded them.

  As they eased down the main street, then ran down the middle of the town, she remembered the street performers who had caused her mother so much distress when they first arrived. There weren't any of those performers now, but she saw musicians sitting on the corners and brightly dressed women roaming between the shops that had sprung up since their first visit.

  "Are we going to stay in San Francisco?" Elizabeth asked.

  She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice, but they had not really discussed where they would settle, and being surrounded by such busyness and the reminder of the dangers that had been there during her first trip made her worried that Ben would decide to try to make their way in the main town.

  Ben looked around as if considering everything that he was seeing.

  "I think that we should continue on just a little bit further," he said. "We can go back to where your family was last time."

  Elizabeth nodded with relief. She was eager for the journey to be over, but she would rather go back to the much quieter areas further north than stay in San Francisco. They paused and allowed Gregory to pull his wagon up beside them.

  "Should we continue on now, or stay here in the hotel for the night?"

  Angela looked hopeful, but Gregory shook his head, glancing up at the sky.

  "There is plenty of light left. There's no point in wasting the money on a hotel room when we could make it to the next camp well before suppertime."

  With that, they left the town and started further north to the outlying camps that they hoped would be in the same location that they were in years before.

  ****

  Dear Diary,

  It is truly amazing how memories work. The people already settled into the camp welcomed us with even greater warmth and enthusiasm that I would have expected, helping us to find a place to settle in and guiding us in the ways of the camp. Everything seemed so fresh and new to me because these were conversations that my mother and father would have had with the others in the camp the first time that I was here.

  For the first several days, everything went smoothly and I found myself enjoying the new experience. Angela and I made friends with several of the other women in the camp and fell into a happy, comfortable rhythm of taking care of the home tasks while the men spent their time mining. Ben still hopes to find another job, but the lure of the gold was too much for him to resist and he and Gregory joined up with the men who head daily into the hills to mine and pan.

  It was in the second week of our new life, though, that the rains came. Just like during my first time here, the rain poured from the sky for days on end. It was dark and thunder rumbled in the distance. The men stayed in the camp and everything was damp and humid. It was difficult to keep a fire, even when we built covers to protect it, so we ate mostly cold leftover food.

  As soon as the weather cleared, the children, so restless after days of being kept in the tents by their mothers, rushed out to play. They headed down toward the swampy low-lying areas, eager to cool off from the steamy heat by swimming. Listening to their laughter was delightful until I saw the first mosquito.

  Suddenly I remembered the horror of the malaria outbreak. When I closed my eyes, I could see the little children rushing down to the swamp and hear Carrie's voice complaining of the mosquitos biting her. I remembered how frustrated Susanna Dickerson had made me, and how much I disliked her, and then how horrible I felt when I discovered that she had been one of the first to die when the illness hit.

  Sitting there in my tent, feeling the dampness of the air against my skin, I suddenly felt like I was right back there. I was afraid and lonely, aching for Ben and thinking of him so far away. Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder and I looked up to see him gazing down at me with a concerned look on his face. I remembered that it was not four years before and that he was not still in Tennessee. We were married and he was here with me.

  I wonder if I will ever forget the horrors that I have seen along the path that has brought me here, Diary. Will I ever forget Susanna's face and overcome my guilt at disliking her so before she died? Will I ever stop having nightmares about the grave markers that line the roads and the discarded belongings that seem to be constant reminders of the struggles that people put themselves through in order to seek better lives? Will I ever let go of the death of the bandit, and accept forgiveness?

  --Elizabeth

  ****

  Elizabeth clutched the letter she had just received to her chest and closed her eyes to send up a quick prayer of thanks. She looked down at the paper again and let her fingertips run over the letters as if she could feel her mother's presence in the carefully constructed penmanship.

  "What does it say?" Ben asked.

  Elizabeth looked up at him, smiling through the jo
yful tears sliding down her cheeks.

  "My mother had a boy. I have a little brother!"

  Ben grinned and hugged her tightly.

  "That is wonderful. I'm sure your father is thrilled to have a son."

  "I'm sure he is," Elizabeth agreed, looking back down at the letter and reading it again. "They didn't write to us until he lived through his first few weeks. It is hard to believe that it takes so long for the post to arrive that their little baby is nearly five months old now. She says that they have rebuilt the saw mill and things have been improving for most of the families."

  "I'm glad to hear that." Elizabeth sighed and Ben cupped her face with one hand, tilting it up so that she looked at him, "Are you unhappy?"

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  "No."

  Ben sighed, the expression on his face telling her that he knew her well enough to see what was in her heart.

  "Things are getting better every day, Elizabeth. You have enough seamstress work that you have had to turn away jobs, and soon we will have the money to open a shop for you so you can expand even more. The mining has been going well and these new hydraulic systems are creating more jobs. I know that you miss them, and we will find a way to see them soon. We just have to continue to be strong."

  "You're right. We have been so blessed, and I know that it will only get better from here. God is straightening our path for us. Now all that is left for us is to walk it."

  Ben leaned down and kissed Elizabeth on the top of her head. Her heart soared and she felt the familiar smile curve her lips. Though it had been more than a year since he had become her husband, she still got butterflies in her belly when she looked at Ben. She had loved him her entire life, and every morning when she woke up she found that she loved him even more. It was the littlest things that reminded her, from the way that he gave a little grunt of happiness when he took his first sip of coffee in the morning, to how hard he worked every day to make sure that he could take care of her, to the way he spread out in bed at night like a little boy.

  It had been several months and they had finally found their permanent home away from the camp of tents right outside of the mining hills. The house was small and humble, far less elaborate even than their little house in Tennessee, but somehow Elizabeth loved it even more because of all of the hard work that it represented. Ben picked up his hat, pulled it down over his ears, and shoved his hands into his gloves before heading outside to take care of the animals. Cold air streamed through the door in the few moments that it was open and Elizabeth shivered slightly. She had expected it to always be warm in California, but this first winter proved that the territory could get quite cold, particularly this far north.

  She reached down beside her chair where she sat by the fire and picked up her knitting basket. She withdrew a bundle of cream-colored yarn and her needles, pausing for a moment to rest her hand on her belly. The holidays were quickly approaching and she would have a very special gift to give Ben on Christmas morning. It had been so difficult for her to keep the tiny pair of booties secret from him, but she couldn't wait to see his face when he opened them as they celebrated their first Christmas in their new home in California.

  ****

  Dear Mama,

  I was so thrilled to receive your letter today. I hope that the post gets faster soon and that we will be able to keep up with each other more quickly. I miss you now more than ever before and I hope that you can feel my love coming through this letter, and that you share it with Father, Carrie, Maggie, and little Johnny. Kiss them all for me and tell them that they are in my thoughts and my prayers each day.

  As the precious season of Christmas approaches, I find myself thinking of all of the traditions and celebrations from my childhood. This was always such a wonderful time for us and my heart breaks that we are not together for this holiday. I am already planning to try to prepare your special Christmas pudding, but I am also going to visit the general store and purchase a few candy canes just in case it does not go well so that we can still have treats for the holiday.

  Though there are still struggles, life is wonderful here. It is far different than when you and Father brought us here what seems like so long ago. Would you ever consider taking the journey again to take advantage of the amazing bounty California has to offer? Perhaps next year when Johnny is older and Carrie has finished another year of school, you can make the journey to us so that we may at least be together for the holidays.

  I hope to hear from you very soon.

  All my love,

  Elizabeth

  Elizabeth folded the letter and put it aside so that she could bring it to the post the next day. She hadn't told her mother about the prospect of their first grandchild on the way. That was her gift to Ben, and even though the letter would not arrive in Tennessee for some time, she wanted him to be the first to know, even in letter form. This little one represented new life and the hope for the future, and for the first time, Elizabeth felt truly free of the pain and struggles they had faced, and ready to embrace everything that lies ahead.

  Coulterville, California - 1854

  Dear Diary,

  The weather is finally starting to get warm again. It is still chilly enough that I need to wrap in an extra blanket when I first get up in the morning, but I am relieved that the coldest temperatures are over. I am more thankful this year for the warmer temperatures than I ever have been before. I cannot imagine what it would be like to give birth and raise a newborn in the chill of winter.

  Many of the women who I have spoken to who have several children say that I will be wishing for the cool weather in the last weeks of carrying this little one, but that is coming very soon and I am still longing for the temperature to increase by just a few more notches.

  I sometimes find it hard to believe that I will be welcoming my own little one into this world in just two months. I have never seen Ben so happy as Christmas morning when I told him that I am expecting. It was so difficult for me to keep it a secret from him, but I somehow got through it. I surprised him by hanging three candy canes on the tree after he had already gone to sleep on Christmas Eve. I had asked for two large candy canes and one in the smallest size that the general store carried.

  I hung the tiny candy cane between the two large ones in the very center of the tree so that I knew Ben would see them as soon as he came into the main room of our home in the morning. As I did every morning, I got up early so that I could start coffee and breakfast for him. It was so difficult to see those candy canes hanging there and not wake him up so that he would see them sooner.

  I was just pulling the sweet rolls out of the oven when Ben came into the kitchen, already licking one of the larger candy canes. I could not help but laugh. Christmas has always been such a precious time for me, but only more now that I am Ben's wife. I have always known that he loves the season, but I did not know how much he would seem like an excited little boy until the first time I got to see him first thing on Christmas morning.

  He is such a gift to me, and I could barely contain my own excitement as I prepared to tell him about his special gift.

  "Merry Christmas!" he said to me and came over to kiss my cheek, "Thank you for the candy cane."

  "You're welcome, Darling. If you are already eating yours, will you bring me mine?"

  I had to turn away and concentrate on getting the rolls out of the pan and onto the serving tray so that he would not see the smile on my face. He came back into the kitchen with my candy cane and handed it to me.

  "There is a third one on the tree," he said to me.

  Can you believe that he had not figured it out, Diary? It was almost too funny for me to continue pretending, but I did not want to spoil the surprise, so I gave him my best innocent look.

  "There is?" I asked, "Why would that be?"

  I took the tray of sweet rolls into the main room and slid it onto the dining table.

  "Are we expecting someone?"

  Could my darling husband b
e any more adorable? I walked over to the tree and picked up a little box I had wrapped in a red ribbon."

  "We are," I said, handing him the box, "but I think you could probably eat the candy cane."

  Ben looked at me strangely, but he finally opened the box and I have never in my life seen such a smile as when he lifted those bitty little booties I had knitted out of the box. For a few seconds, he did not say a word; he just looked between me and the booties. Then I saw the tears in his eyes and I knew for sure that he finally understood.

  He put the booties back in the box, put it down gently, and then dropped to his knees on the floor so that he could kiss my stomach. There was not even the slightest hint of a swell yet, but he kissed it again and again as if he could see the baby's face.

  "Merry Christmas," he whispered against my dress.

  That is truly the most beautiful Christmas moment that I have ever had. I have been blessed beyond measure and I can only imagine how much more wonderful life will be once I give birth to this little one.

  I wonder if I will have a son or a daughter. It does not matter, really, but it is fun to imagine what life would be like with either one. A boy to climb and play and work with his Papa, or a girl to play with dolls and teach to sew. Whatever the Lord gives us, I know that finally having a family of our own will enrich our lives so deeply.

  Several months have passed since then and the anticipation is only growing – along with my belly – each day. I can feel the little one kicking and moving inside me and it is like a tiny miracle each time. Sometimes Ben puts his head on my belly while we lie in bed and talks to the baby. He says that it can hear him and that is why it wiggles so much when he does it. I think it might be more that his head is heavy and the baby is feeling a little crowded. Either way, I treasure those moments. A first pregnancy is something I can only have one time, and soon, it will be only a memory.