by Carré White
“I love you.”
“You do?”
“I believe so.”
“Oh, Samuel.”
“How about you?”
“You better come back to me. I’ll be beside myself, if you don’t.”
“I’ll come back.”
“I think you’re the most wonderful man, and you’ll be a wonderful father. I love your kindness, your honesty, and how you look after Laura and me. I feel so lucky to have met you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Being dragged into the wilderness is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
“Oh, you know what I’m talking about. You saved my life more than once. I owe you everything. I want to make you happy, Samuel, the way you’ve made me happy. I’ll love you until I die.”
He kissed my forehead. “Saying goodbye tomorrow is going to be hard. I’ve never missed a woman before, but I suspect I’m gonna miss you something awful.”
“Just be safe, and hurry back to us.”
“I will. I got to. You’ve got all my money.”
“Oh, you just can’t stop making jokes,” I giggled.
“Nope. Gotta laugh, or I’m liable to start crying, and it would be unseemly for a wagon master to cry like a baby.”
I hugged him, wanting to be as close as possible, but it would never be enough. “Good night, husband.”
“Sleep tight, wife.” He sighed, his chest rising and falling.
It would be another half an hour before I drifted to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
Denver City, Kansas Territory
“Paulina! We’ll be late!”
I tied the sash of my bonnet, glancing at myself in a mirror that sat over a rustic looking dresser. “Coming!”
Mrs. Hermosa held Laura, who had been fed and changed. She waited at the bottom of the stairs for me. “Thank you, Maria.”
“Is no problem, Mrs. Tucker.”
I rushed towards the kitchen. “Sorry it took me so long. I’m feeling unfavorable this morning.” I’d been on the edge of being ill, my stomach queasy. “It might be the chicken salad we had yesterday. It’s not sitting well with me.”
My sister, Hannah, bustled around the kitchen; her belly was huge. “You think so?”
“Yes.” Laura squirmed in my arms, wanting to be set down. I did so, but I had to watch her carefully near the stove.
“What are your symptoms exactly?”
“Tiredness mostly.”
“With vomiting?”
“Not always. I just feel like I could. Then there was that one time.”
“It’s exactly how I was in my first trimester.”
“I’ve been wondering about that.”
“Uh-uh…” She smiled. “I’ve got the sandwiches ready to go and a jug of lemonade.” Her hands went to her hips. “Those boys are probably awfully hungry and thirsty by now.”
Through Hannah’s connections, I had been able to secure a tract of land, paying next to nothing for it. I was in the process of building a house, although the structure was far from complete.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Laura had crawled down the hallway. “I’d best get her.” She’d found George, who was a sandy-colored lab, sleeping on the rug in the parlor. “Oh, don’t wake him, honey.” She cooed, shrieking excitedly. She loved that dog, and he was so gentle with her, even when she pulled on his fur.
“We should go,” said Hannah. “Come on, George.” The dog stood on command, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, while black eyes flashed with excitement. He was fond of a wagon ride.
“You go to the house, Mrs. Weaver?” Maria appeared, wearing an apron.
“Yes. Will you watch over things?”
“I start the roast soon. It’ll be ready for supper.”
“Thank you, Maria.”
“How many will eat here?”
“I imagine Jerry and James Meeker and everyone else.” She glanced at me. “Gosh, it’s like running a boarding house. Then there’s the wet nurse. Is she feeling better?”
“Yes, Mrs. Weaver. She’s resting now.”
When I had first arrived, Jane and her husband had been with us, but after a month, they had moved on into the mountains, seeking gold at Cripple Creek. Maria found a wet nurse in town, a woman who had been working in the parlour house of all places, but she needed a job, as she didn’t want to continue in that particular profession. She had since taken up with James Meeker, and they occupied the bunkhouse, while Jerry had built a one-room abode across the way. Maria’s sons were in the mountains, working in Breckenridge. Nathan, my sister’s husband, was waiting for the harvest to come in; the fields were a vibrant green, the corn beginning to reach its peak. There was a wheat field as well, and they had grown pumpkins.
There was never a shortage of things to do, with cows needing to be milked twice a day, the chickens, which Laura adored, especially when the babies hatched, all fluffy and yellow, and the housework. I had been incredibly busy, just as Samuel had predicted, but I missed him horribly, lying in bed at night, wishing he were with me. I’d gotten a letter from him two months ago from Sacramento. It was a relief knowing that he had reached his destination, but he was on the trail again, heading over rough terrain.
Hannah held open the front door. “Let’s go.” The dog ambled by her, his tail wagging.
“I should carry that.” I reached for the basket.
“No, it’s fine. It’s not that heavy.” We had packed sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs.
“I feel like I’ve done almost nothing today.”
She eyed me. “That’s not true. You’re growing a baby, and you’ve got Laura to mind. That’s plenty right there.”
The dog had jumped into the back of the wagon. This had been the same wagon my sister and her first husband Frank had arrived in, although they had removed the framework, leaving it open. Being late September, it was temperate, the breeze slight. I wore a shawl around my shoulders, as did my sister, but it was hardly necessary. Hannah took up the reins, and, after we were seated, Laura in my lap and her face shaded by a pink bonnet, we were on our way. A two-mile road lay before us, as I had been fortunate enough to find property close-by; however, I was nervous about what Samuel’s opinion would be, as he had not seen it yet. I had taken Nathan’s advice in several matters, respecting his judgment. My sister’s husband reminded me of Samuel. Both men had similar temperaments and a strong sense of humor.
To be fair, I missed Frank as well. He was someone I had known for years. He had courted my sister since she was fourteen. His death had been a shock to us all and a reminder that life was fragile. He’d made my sister very happy, and he had brought her to the Kansas Territory, beginning the fever that had gripped us for westward migration. It was because of Hannah’s success that I had decided to join her. Little did I know that I would not only marry before arriving in Colorado, but I would also have a daughter.
Laura would never know her birth parents, and maybe one day I might have to say goodbye to her, if a letter came from a distant relative. Until that time, I would love and cherish her, as if she were my own. It might be selfish of me, but I had prayed to keep her. It would be a sad day, if I had to give her away.
The wagon ambled over a rutted path, passing several farms along the way. Hannah’s neighbors were an assortment of settlers, some friendlier than others. The Franklin’s were not friendly, their dogs hastening to the fence to bark at us, which sent George into a fit of barking. Things didn’t quiet down until after we passed. Then the Hunts would wave to us, their children running around and shouting, which set George into voicing his displeasure, barking once again.
“Oh, that dog,” grumbled Hannah. “My goodness.”
An endless prairie stretched out as far as the eye could see, with the mountains running straight down the western range, with snowcapped peaks in the distance. It truly was breathtaking, this unspoiled land I had come to call home. The heat of summer had turned into a mild
fall, although the leaves were still on the trees. It would be cold this winter—all the more reason to finish the house as fast as possible, and it was well on its way. The frame had been built, following a floor plan I had chosen from a local carpenter. It differed slightly from my sister’s house, as it was situated facing the mountains, the windows in the parlor and dining room having the best views.
“They’ve got company,” said Hannah.
“I think Nathan brought in some men to help.”
“I don’t think so. It looks like a migrant wagon fresh off the trail. I count four oxen.”
This caught my attention, as I stood, holding on to the seat. “Your eyes must be better than mine. Good gracious, I’ll probably need glasses.”
“You’ll fall over! Sit down.”
“I just see a blur of white.”
“You’re blind as a bat.”
“Not really.”
“You’ll need to have Dr. Caldwell give you an eye test.”
“I’ll look horrible then. I hate spectacles.”
“You got pa’s eyes. Poor Paulina.” She enjoyed having a laugh at my expense.
“Oh, shush.”
The horse brought us down the lane, which led to the house. There was a man on the roof, hammering away at the framing. “That better not be Nathan,” said Hannah. “I forbid him from going up on roofs.”
“It’s hard to tell.” I squinted, trying to get a better look. Then a canvas covered wagon came into view. There was something vaguely familiar about it. “Oh, no! It can’t be!”
“What?”
“Stop the wagon, right this very minute!” She did as I asked, the conveyance grinding to a halt. “Hold Laura!” I thrust the baby her way.
“Someone’s all worked up.” She smiled at the baby. “You smell funny. Did you make a stinky?”
“Ba..ba…ba…”
I jumped from the conveyance, rushing towards the house. My heart had begun to beat a wild staccato, the blood pumping through my veins. “Samuel!”
“Yes, darlin’?” He emerged from within the structure, standing on the porch with his hands in his pockets. “You want to explain to me what the heck you’re doin’?”
“What?”
“Three bedrooms?”
I flung myself into his arms. “Oh, you didn’t tell me you were here.”
“I arrived an hour ago.”
“You need a bath.”
“You’ve got some explaining to do. I don’t think a thousand dollars is payin’ for all of this.”
“The land was free. I spent money on wood and things for the house. The labor is free, although I’m feeding people, and I did promise them money after we harvest next year. Did I do something wrong?”
He lifted me off my feet. “You…amaze me.”
I held his face, kissing him, while Hannah approached, holding Laura. George trotted by, entering the house, but he lifted his leg and marked a wooden beam first.
“George!” Hannah frowned. “I’m terribly sorry about that. His manners are off today.”
Samuel held out his hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Weaver. Your husband is round the back. They’re working on the privy.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My sister was half outta her mind waiting for you. She’s pregnant. Did you know?” His mouth fell open. “I guess not.”
“Hannah! I was going to tell him.”
“I’m missing my manners today too.” Her grin was saucy. “I’ll leave you to your reunion.”
“Hold up there, a second.” Samuel reached for Laura, his hands spanning her tummy. “Hey, you. You’ve gotten so much bigger. What are they feeding you?” She giggled, squirming in his hands. He kissed her, holding her close, sniffing her head. “Just like I remember. That sweet baby smell.”
Tears were in my eyes. “There will be so many babies soon. My sister’s giving birth any minute, and then it’ll be my turn.”
Samuel handed the baby to Hannah. “We’ll fetch her in a bit. I gotta talk to my wife.”
“I’ll be out back,” she said. Her expression revealed approval; she had found my choice of husband agreeable.
The sounds of hammering continued, as James and Jerry worked inside. I glanced at my husband, while tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them.
“What are you crying about?”
“I’m so glad you made it.”
“I’ve got some stories to tell you.” He shook his head. “It’ll curl your hair. I’ve got a spot on my leg that needs lookin’ at. I was mauled by a bear.”
“Oh, my!”
“That’s not even the half of it.”
“Then I’m truly grateful you’ve returned.”
I was in his arms again. “Oh, Paulina. How I’ve missed you. You did good. I can’t find fault with the land. There’s a river nearby, and the grass is as thick as I’ve seen. I know we’re gonna build something wonderful here.”
“Yes,” I murmured. “Yes, we will.”
The End
Epilogue
“What did you get?” asked Samuel.
I climbed into the wagon, facing him, holding a letter. “It’s from my sister, Louisa. She’s thinking about coming!”
“Which one is she again?” He had Laura in his lap, his arm securely around her midsection.
“She’s the college educated one. She’s a teacher.”
“Oh, right.”
We had been shopping; crates were in the bed of the wagon, filled with enough supplies to see us through the winter. My sister’s harvest had brought in an abundance of corn and wheat, and what had been left over she had given to us. We would never be able to repay their generosity.
“She’s also married.” I glanced at the paper frowning.
It is my greatest displeasure to have to tell you this…but I am getting an annulment. Henry wasn’t the man for me after all. I have hardly processed these unfortunate events, but I find that I am unable to continue in Troy. My reputation is in tatters. I’ve been through agony; you have no idea, my darling Paulina. Please tell Hannah the circumstances, as I will not have time to write her later. How could such misfortune befall me? What have I done to deserve such grievous treatment—”
“What’s she say?” Samuel chewed on a toothpick. “You got awfully quiet.”
“Oh, dear. She’s not happy.”
“How?”
“She’s getting an annulment.”
His eyes widened. “Whoa. You don’t say.”
“Oh, my goodness. How awful.”
“She comin’ out as a mail order bride?”
I glanced at him in horror. “No, of course not.”
“Why’s she comin’ then?”
“I haven’t read that far yet. You keep interrupting me.”
“I had no idea you Hoffmans were so scandal-prone.” He grinned.
“Here’s what she says.”
My husband has been living a lie. I don’t want to go into all the sordid details, but he is not the person I thought he was. He has secrets. I am not able to continue with him. Pa is helping me, but even he is flummoxed. I wanted to spare everyone the scandal, but it can’t be avoided, I’m afraid. I know this is an imposition, but you are living in Denver City with Hannah, and one of you must have an extra room. I’ll sleep in the barn, if I have to. I must leave New York, as soon as this farce of a marriage is erased. I feel like the biggest fool that ever walked the face of the earth. I thought I knew Henry. I was so wrong. Not only that, but I doubt I shall ever trust another man again. They are vile, lecherous creatures that think of nothing but themselves. You and Hannah are lucky, my dears, but I have only seen the worst of it. I’ll spare you the details, but, suffice it to say, I shall never marry again. I have no desire to even look at a man in such a way, unless he’s carrying my baggage or driving me somewhere. What truly useless creatures—”
“Er…I think we can finish it later.” He took the letter from my hand.
“But I wasn’t done!”
“Oh, I think we’ve heard plenty. She wrote that full of venom. I hope she cools off before she gets here.” He glanced at me.
“You find this funny?” I was indignant on behalf of my poor, suffering sister. “You think a man keeping secrets is amusing?”
“No.” A frown appeared. “No, I don’t. That’s not something to laugh at, but what you’re readin’ was written in anger. I’m not condoning what happened to her, and I’m not one of those men. What you get is what you see with me.”
“I know, thank goodness.”
“If you want her to stay with us, that’s fine. I don’t mind. Lord knows we’ve imposed on your sister long enough. It’s our turn to give a little. I just think maybe we should save the rest of the letter for later, is all.”
“Poor Louisa.”
“All that blather about hating men. Somethin’ tells me she’ll change her tune about that. She’ll find another husband. There are more than enough single men in these parts. You can’t throw a stone without hittin’ one.”
Again, his reasoning was sound. I folded the letter neatly. “That’s true. There are lots of men in Denver City.”
“And more showin’ up every day.”
Coming Soon
Look for future books in The Colorado Brides Series, chronicling the lives of the Hoffman sisters and their adventures in finding love out west.
An Unexpected Widow
An Unexpected Bride
An Unexpected Annulment
An Unexpected Mother
A new series, The Arizona Brides Series, will be available in the fall of 2013.
Here is an excerpt from An Unexpected Annulment:
“I really do think you should marry me.”
“I don’t even know you, Mr. Montgomery.”
“That doesn’t matter. That’ll come later.”
“I can’t do that. I must have a better understanding of your character before I could ever consider such a thing.”
“How long were you engaged to that other fella?”
“Nearly two years.”
