The Golden Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  As she climbed the stairs to her home, she realized that the constant schedule had kept her from thinking about Mama, Daddy, and Hezekiah too much. Hard to believe that her parents had been gone more than three months now. While her heart ached, it didn’t feel like an open wound anymore.

  Every night, she opened the small box of keepsakes and held her mother’s journal up against her chest. Even though she longed to read the words and see her mother’s script once again, Olivia could never keep the tears at bay. So she’d read through Mary Elizabeth’s journal two more times, savoring each entry and picturing herself among the passengers on the Mayflower. It gave her a lot of encouragement to read her ancestor’s words from when she’d been so young. It seemed that Mary Elizabeth lacked courage or even the desire to try anything like adventure … yet she’d gone anyway. She’d prayed for bravery and peace the whole way. Even in the midst of facing so much loss, a quiet strength had seeped onto the pages of the precious journal. And for that, Olivia was so very grateful.

  If she could just get past her own mistakes, she’d love to be that kind of woman and pass down to generations the kind of faith and love that she’d witnessed through Mary Elizabeth’s words.

  Shaking her head, she picked up the journal that belonged to Faith Lytton Jackson Weber, another woman in her family who’d faced great loss. Not only did she lose her parents as a young child, but then she lost her first husband, whom she’d only been married to for a week. In the tumult of war, Faith had fought for the freedom of their country and had even been a spy!

  Olivia marveled at Faith’s feisty personality and willingness to do whatever it took to do what was right. Faith had been a widow for a long time. Many years. That spoke to Olivia’s heart. If her ancestor could weather the storms of life, then so could she. Couldn’t she?

  Opening the leather book to the page where she’d left off, Olivia tried to put herself into Faith’s shoes. They were big shoes to fill and honorable ones too. Would anyone ever say that about her? Tears pricked her eyes. No. She couldn’t pass anything down because her dream of a family was gone. She didn’t deserve a husband and family after her behavior toward Hezekiah.

  “Livvy? You up here?” Daniel’s voice brought her head up.

  “I’m here.” Taking a shaky breath, she returned the book and swiped at her cheeks. No sense getting Daniel all worried about her. He’d already done so much for her.

  He leaned up against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “I realized tonight that I haven’t given you a single day off. You must be beat.”

  She waved him off. “I don’t see you ever taking a day off. You were good enough to give me the job and a place to live. I’m happy with that.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

  “Nothing. I’m simply tired.”

  “No. It’s more than that. … Did someone say anything ugly to you today?”

  She laughed. Every day at least one man said something that she deemed vulgar, but she’d learned to deal with that the first day she started working in the restaurant. Not much bothered her anymore. Unless, of course, if one of the men touched her. Then it was always a bit unpredictable how she would handle the man. “That’s like asking if the sun rose in the east this morning.”

  Daniel shook his head and laughed with her. “Why don’t you come join me in the sitting room.” He turned and went into the other room, leaving her little choice but to follow.

  “I’m fine, Daniel. Really.”

  He sat down and undid the tie at his neck. “I know. I can see that. But what I really want to address is a subject that I’ve left for too long.”

  Dread filled her stomach. She perched on the edge of the settee and felt her spine stiffen. This was it. What if he’d thought about it and decided she was indeed responsible for her husband’s death? What was she supposed to do then? She thought of the money in the bank. Perhaps that plus her earnings from the past month would help her to travel somewhere far from here and start over. But then she would probably never see her brother again. A new sick feeling formed in her gut.

  “Olivia?” Her brother had leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Had he said something? He looked quite concerned.

  “I’m sorry. You were saying?” She took a long, deep breath and tried to prepare herself for whatever was to come.

  “I’m worried about you. That’s all.” He looked down at his hands and then back to her face. “Ever since you said that you would never marry again, it’s been bothering me. Now please don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I want you to leave—you are welcome here for as long as you need—but you’re so young. I don’t think you should discount the fact that you may very well fall in love one day.”

  As soon as she realized what he was about, the door inside her slammed shut on all her worry and buried it back down. In its place, a bit of anger welled up. “I told you that I would rather not speak on this subject.”

  He held up his hands. “I know, I know. But I’m your older brother. And your last living relative. It’s my duty to provide for you and to protect you—but that also means protecting you from yourself. I know Hezekiah’s death is fresh, but it’s not your duty to be a widow for the rest of your life. And you shouldn’t avoid talking to me about it.”

  Emotions she couldn’t even explain pushed her to her feet. “I confessed to you about what I did, Daniel. And I know you were none too pleased. On top of that, I told you that I wasn’t a very good wife—and look at what happened! Hezekiah is dead. And I’m to blame—”

  “Oh good grief, Livvy, you are most definitely not to blame. I’ll have none of that talk because it’s not true! And yes, while I might have been disappointed that you up and married someone you’d only known a day, I still understood why you had to do what you did. You weren’t even with him when he died, so how on earth could it be your fault?”

  A sob invaded her throat and made her choke. Then the tears came gushing out with a vengeance. “Because … don’t you see? I complained about not having any food. But not just that. I’d given him quite a piece of my mind about spending the last of our funds on all his silly gold-digging supplies when we didn’t even have a decent meal to make it to the next day. Hezekiah wasn’t a hunter, but he went out because his wife had nagged him to go.”

  “And so it’s your fault that he shot himself in the leg?” Daniel stood, walked to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “No. It’s not. No one would blame you for his death. It was an accident.”

  She shook her head as the tears kept coming.

  “God isn’t blaming you either, so you need to get that thought out of your mind right now. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “But don’t you see what a burden this is to bear? I made a bad choice by marrying so hastily and putting my faith in a man rather than God—but God still allowed me to try and be a good and decent wife. Yet every day I whined and complained about my husband. About what he did. About his lack in so many areas. About driving around in circles and him never finding a job. Don’t you see? I was never grateful for what I had, and so God took it all away.”

  “That’s not how God works, Livvy.” The look on her brother’s face turned into a grimace. “Grief, if God took away my chances because I hadn’t been honorable or hadn’t obeyed or had complained about something, then I’d be dead already! We all would because we’re all sinners in the need of His grace. Jesus paid the price—for all of our debts including our complaining—on the cross. I know deep down you believe that. God can still use you exactly how you are—mistakes and all—and you are allowed to have a happy future.” He took her hands. “Just because you haven’t been perfect doesn’t mean that you have to live out your life in penance for the rest of your days.”

  Everything in her seemed to drain out through her limbs. She sat in the chair behind her and let out a long sigh. “In my heart I want to believe that what you’ve said is true, but
why do I still feel so ashamed for my actions? I confessed it to God many times, and after Hezekiah died, I felt His presence and that He would never leave me. But it still overwhelms me at the oddest moments every day. Especially when I’m stern with one of the customers. Or perhaps a bit too sarcastic. I was a horrible wife. That’s why I shouldn’t ever think of remarrying.”

  Daniel shook his head and blew his breath out through his teeth. “It sounds to me like you are having a hard time forgiving yourself, Olivia. But I still think there’s more to the story.”

  Her heart sped up. She never wanted him to know how wretched she really was.

  His brows drew down, and he patted her knee. “Look. I can tell that you’re upset. I won’t push anymore tonight. But please, Livvy … know that you can trust me with anything. I’ll love you no matter what.”

  Biting her lip between her teeth, she could only manage a nod as another tear slipped down her cheek.

  “And please promise me that you’ll be praying about this? Give it some good thought?”

  Another nod.

  “Good. Now let’s talk about happier matters. I saw the sheets of paper you had filled up with signatures for our petition. You seem to be quite persuasive with our customers.” He stepped back and smiled.

  Taking a deep breath, she buried the guilt and the topic. “Probably because I hold their food hostage until they listen.” It felt normal to fall back into their sibling banter. Normal was safe and a place where she could ignore everything she’d buried.

  Daniel’s laughter filled the room. “There’s no harm in that if we want to see change.”

  They spent the next half hour in pleasant conversation about the antics of the men who frequented the restaurant, and Olivia felt her dread melt away. She’d never be able to get Daniel to understand why she carried around her guilt—and she hoped to never have to tell him.

  Things were best this way.

  The day of the next city council meeting arrived, and Joseph looked forward to being able to bring more needs to the attention of the other council members. He’d been making a list with Daniel and Olivia over their lunches each day, and it struck him that it would take months—possibly even years—to gain the headway needed to make San Francisco great.

  As he stood in front of the mirror and retied his cravat into a knot, he rehearsed what he hoped George would allow him to say. “Gentleman, it’s time we stopped stalling at every turn and put the needs of our city first—”

  Knock-knock-knock!

  The urgent sound from the front door made him jump. Who could be coming by tonight?

  Joseph ran to the door and opened it. Dewei stood on the porch with his hands clasped in front of him, his face portraying what his calm stature did not. Complete and utter distress.

  “Dewei. Please, come in. What is troubling you?”

  “Mr. Sawyer, sir, I no wish to interrupt but have urgent request.”

  “Of course. What’s happened?”

  The man who never seemed to show any emotion had a tear glistening in his eye. “My brothers. They were to arrive and no show. So I look for them. They held in chains in brothel on Pacific Street.”

  “In chains? In a brothel? Which one? Whoever would do this to them?” Joseph had heard rumors about slaves in the city, but he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Could this be true?

  “I not know. I sneak in window to see them. Brothers say that some man chained their feet and hands and force to do laundry and clean. Say that until debt paid, they stay.”

  “What sort of debt could they owe that would warrant them to be chained up for slave labor?” It couldn’t be real, could it?

  “Brothers owe no one. Pay for trip before come.” Dewei stepped closer. “It is no clean. No food. I need help, Mr. Sawyer. Please.”

  Joseph put his hands on his hips and paced the room. San Francisco was filled with some evil people. Pacific Street was the worst—and the territory that belonged to that horrible gang. How on earth was he supposed to help free men in that area when they didn’t even have a sheriff? Could he go to the council? The idea made him shake his head. Perhaps the governor would be a better choice. “Dewei, please know that I will do everything in my power to help free your brothers. I don’t know how long it will take, but I won’t stop until they are safe.”

  Dewei’s face showed his relief, and he bowed. “Very good. Thank you, sir.” The proud Chinese man walked away, his steps straight and purposeful. Joseph watched him for a moment and then closed the door. He’d never had a better worker than Dewei. He trusted him with his livelihood and would trust the man with his life as well. The news felt like a blow to the gut.

  Checking the clock on the mantel, Joseph decided that he had enough time to draft a letter to the governor of the territory before heading to the council meeting. The matter was too urgent to wait.

  After detailing the plight to General Riley, Joseph offered to do whatever he could to help, even if he needed to start funding some sort of police himself. Something had to be done, and although he had expressed the pressing need, he doubted any action from the governor could begin to address the true depths of the problem. A great evil seemed to dwell beneath the surface of San Francisco, and looking at their city at face value didn’t show much good. But the idea that so much more—an even deeper level of evil—was hidden from view scared him.

  The clock chimed, and he realized he’d better get to the meeting. Perhaps tonight he’d have a chance to at least mention the possibility of what he’d heard. Good men served on the council. Joseph just didn’t trust George Banister, which could be a problem since he was the head.

  His horse’s legs ate up the distance quickly. Tying him at the post, Joseph took a deep breath and went over in his mind what he’d hoped to share before Dewei brought the disturbing news. But as he entered the building, he heard voices. It sounded like the men were already discussing items on the agenda.

  He walked into the room. The men appeared to have been settled in for a while. How could that be? He was still fifteen minutes early. “Gentlemen.” He tried not to look too stern. “What are we discussing? Has the meeting come to order already?”

  George gave him a slimy smile. “My apologies, Mr. Sawyer, I sent messages to all the council to meet an hour earlier.”

  “I received no such message.” Joseph frowned.

  “Again, my apologies, but we are well under way. Please take your seat.” Without waiting for a response, George just went on with what he was saying.

  Joseph took a minute to listen and realized that the man was discussing bringing on an alcalde—a mayor—for their city. Apparently, several men had been nominated already, and they would vote in early August. So much discussion took place around him, that it took him a while to process it all. While he agreed that establishing a mayor and some sort of government for their city was much needed, it seemed odd to him that George would start this meeting early—without him—and then barrel ahead with such a task so quickly. They had moved at a snail’s pace ever since the council had been put together in January. Now it was July. Was the city really prepared to vote this quickly? Joseph would just have to investigate each man on his own, because at this point, he wouldn’t put anything past George. Something about the man didn’t sit right with him.

  Glancing around the room at each council member, Joseph was appreciative that many men really wanted to do right by their town. But could he trust all of them? Or were some of them in George’s proverbial pocket?

  As the clock struck the hour, George held up his hands to halt the discussion. “Gentlemen, we’ve accomplished all we can for the evening. Let’s meet again on the first of August, and we will finalize details for the upcoming election. We know that we all have an obligation as elected officials of this city to do the very best that we can to improve things here. Thank you for your time. This meeting is adjourned.”

  Joseph felt a bit stunned that everything had happened so quickly and without him. Ever
yone stood, and chatter erupted again around the room. What was George’s game? Perhaps it was a bit pessimistic of him to think such a thing, but he couldn’t negate the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind. He watched each of the men and wondered if there was anyone in this room he could truly trust like he trusted Daniel. Realizing that he wasn’t entirely sure anymore, he decided to head back home. Tomorrow he’d have to discuss it all with his friend.

  His gut told him that an alcalde was a good idea. Maybe a police force and fire protectors would be next. Wasn’t that what they wanted? His mind returned to Dewei’s visit and the horrors he’d described. Maybe Joseph should do something more. As a new thought grew, he wondered if he was sincerely willing to do what he’d conveyed to Dewei—to do everything within his power to help and not to stop until they were safe. The weight of his promise pressed into his chest. Letting out all the air in his lungs, he pondered that question. It could mean a great sacrifice on his part. Perhaps even his life.

  Olivia sat on her bed, leaned up against the wall, and pulled the covers up under her arms. Opening Faith’s journal, she felt a deep sense of humility wash over her. The past few days she’d spent more time reading her Bible than she had in a long time, all thanks to inspiration from her ancestor.

  She’d wasted so much time in the past few months, not only using the excuse of her grief but in her complaining and dissatisfaction. Instead of giving it all over to God—like she should have in the first place—she’d tried to manage on her own. Oh, she’d prayed and asked for help more times than she could recall, but it didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t turned completely to the One who wanted to help carry her burdens. Instead, she’d prayed for help but kept tight hold of the reins of her life.

  Looking down at the journal in her hands, she shook her head. God had definitely used Mary Elizabeth and Faith to open her eyes. But could she actually forgive herself for all the mistakes she’d made? It didn’t seem possible. Deep down in her heart, she knew the truth of God. She knew that she was forgiven by Him. She knew that she should be thinking forward rather than dwelling in the past and wallowing in all her failures. So why was it so difficult for her to live that?