Beloved Texas Bride Read online




  Beloved Texas Bride

  Ginny Sterling

  Dedication

  For my own beloved husband whom, I lean upon for strength.

  I can’t imagine a day I don’t get to see your eyes or your smile.

  I love you.

  One

  April 1885

  St. Louis, Missouri

  Elizabeth Pierce watched as the glistening stagecoach rolled into town on the dusty road. A massive crowd of people surrounded her as she scanned nervously over her shoulder. She did not want to be found or recognized. Her salvation lay ahead of her just on the other side of the throng of people and the six massive Quarter Horses that were tethered to the transport.

  The coach was brilliant red lacquer complete with bold, gold letters emblazoned along the sides. The dust that flew up around the horses did nothing to dim the glossy panels in the bright sunshine. Cases, carpetbags and knapsacks were recklessly tied down with straps and ropes along the top and the sides. Astride those packages were several people determined not to miss the coach and covered in dust, as well, from their travels.

  It surprised Elizabeth to see people perched atop the coach each time she saw it because she could not imagine climbing up with her tight bodice. Crinolines were out now, thank goodness, but the cinched waist was still the fashion. She held her ticket tightly as the occupants of the coach disembarked and the bags were unloaded.

  Elizabeth watched curiously as most of the gathering followed the postmaster from the coach, clamoring along behind him, each hoping for a letter from a loved one. Several men helped him carry the few boxes, while a sheriff accompanied a large man in a suit across the street to the bank depository.

  Hmm, there must have been money on that coach, she thought. Payroll was often carried in massive lockboxes and accompanied by armed men. Coaches carrying such things were often prime targets since taking a train over was much, much more complicated. Swallowing hard, Elizabeth said a little prayer, hoping her conveyance to Fort Worth would carry no such thing and that she would be safely ensconced inside the carriage, not atop it. Preferably a window seat, too, she thought wryly, if beggars could be choosers.

  The ride from Indianapolis to St. Louis had proven to be a challenge due to overcrowding and a bout of illness. The stench of body odor was overwhelming inside the small cab and the swaying motion turned her stomach several times along the trip, much to the other occupants’ chagrin. Elizabeth felt green just thinking about it and repeated her prayer again, crossing herself for good measure.

  Elizabeth jumped as she heard the coachman bark “tickets” several times. She surged forward in an unladylike fashion, waving her billet and racing towards the steps that were attached precariously beside the open door of the stagecoach. “I’m here! May I have a window seat?” she inquired politely.

  The burly man grabbed her ticket, punched it, and began to turn away from her. He stopped, took a second look over her form boldly and replied, “You can have whatever seat you can get your rump in first.” He grunted rudely and took her bag, tossing it high onto the coach to the other driver that had accompanied him into town.

  Needing no invitation, she darted into the small opening as much as her gathered skirt would allow. Elizabeth gingerly sat on the coach cushion and tugged gently at her corset before anyone else embarked, hoping to give her a bit more breathing room for the trip. Feeling bold, she unbuttoned the top button of her blouse just under her chin in order to make herself a bit more comfortable, if that was even possible with the whalebone digging in her sides.

  She noticed no one else had joined her as of yet in the coach, but that was not uncommon at all. Depending on the destination, that would affect the number of riders. Indianapolis to St. Louis had been very crowded. Most times, a coach would be present for up to an hour depending on how much baggage was on it and how many tickets were sold. She was just happy it was April and the weather was still comfortable outside.

  Peering out the window, she saw a woman and child chatting with the driver. Elizabeth was glad to see them head towards her and glad to have some company inside the coach. Over-crowded was bad, but unoccupied for days on end with only herself and that wretched driver? That was unwelcomed, as well. Elizabeth heard him holler again, “Saddle up!” as the woman entered the stagecoach after the young girl.

  “Well, hello, little one. My name is Elizabeth. What is yours?” she inquired to the shy young girl who looked to be five or six years old. Elizabeth nodded and smiled at the mother warmly. The two looked very similar to each other and she assumed they were family.

  Elizabeth watched as the young girl looked at her mother, confused. Her blonde braids dangling on either side of her head. “Have you been on the stage before?” she tried again to make conversation and hoping the pair would open up. The woman seemed to be very approachable, but the child not so much. It would take some time for the girl to warm up to her, it seemed.

  Trying a different tactic, she addressed the young woman. She seemed to be not much older than Elizabeth was but had led a different life. Where Elizabeth had been cared for and grew up in a modest household, this woman had not. Her knuckles were reddened from hard labor and she had rings under her eyes. Her smile made up for the fatigue etched on her visage.

  “Hello, I am May… May Rowlett and this is Abigail. My daughter. She is just a bit shy. You will have to excuse her manners. Abigail? Can you say hello to Miss Elizabeth…?” and her voice trailed off expectantly with a large smile on her face.

  Elizabeth noticed her mistake right away. “My apologies! I completely forgot myself. Elizabeth Pierce of Indianapolis. This is my second stage this trip,” she explained, immediately trying to form some sort of bond with the young woman so she might have conversation through the days ahead.

  The coach took that moment to lunge forward, moving them off their cushioned seats almost to the floorboard. Thankfully, they were able to catch themselves in time- and this included little Abigail, who had been held in place by her mother’s quick arm. At the launching movement of the horses, May had swung her arm protectively over the little girl with quite a bit of experience.

  “You’ve done that before, haven’t you?” Elizabeth asked appreciatively with a raised eyebrow. May’s small frame hid quite a bit of strength, apparently. She was able to hold herself and her daughter in place on the bench against the inertia.

  May nodded with a warm smile. “My husband’s horse took off like that, too, with our wagon. She was a strong mare,” she explained. “We are heading down to meet him. He has the wagon, mare, and our items. I have been staying with my mother for the time being until our homestead was ready. John said in his last post that the cabin was almost completed. We are moving to our first real home together,” she gushed excitedly to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth smiled happily for the young woman and clasped her hands in joy. “That’s truly wonderful. I am so happy for you,” she said quietly. I am running from my home, she thought sadly.

  She could not believe that her parents had surprised her with an arranged marriage. Her father had a long-time friend, whose son apparently needed a bride now that he had completed medical school and was looking to relocate to Chicago to establish his practice. His name was Elias Barney and sounded perfectly dreadful. Elizabeth Barney? No thank you, she thought.

  Her mother had told her that he was “responsible” and held the “utmost in decorum”. If her mother and father approved, Elizabeth most certainly did not. She wanted to see things, to travel, to find adventure and romance. Marrying a “responsible” doctor who she knew nothing about seemed to be more for her sister, not for her.

  When her parents broke the news to her, she smiled and nodded carefully to keep from screa
ming in protest. After the hugs and “dutiful daughter” comments had passed, she asked to be excused to prepare a letter to her fiancé’s family… To which they heartily approved!

  Instead, Elizabeth headed out the back door and ran down the street, unsure where to go or where to turn. She stopped and picked up a small, folded paper on a bench and spotted an eye-catching advertisement. Grasping at straws, her mind raced with any thought for escape. She stared at the article screaming at her repeatedly.

  According to the paper, the state of Texas was in dire need of help in all its realms. Texans were on the search, high and low, for mail order brides (nope!), cooks (nope!), “Cattle-Kates” (what is that?), and a variety of other positions for hire in the nanny shop.

  How wonderful! A nanny shop for you to select the perfect nanny for your child! Elizabeth figured she could be a nanny since she was the second of four girls. She had experience taking care of her younger sisters and it would be a way to strike out on her own! She immediately tucked the paper into her small reticule and headed back home to study it more. Texas! No one would ever think to search for her there! She would be free from her family and the pressures of an unwanted marriage.

  She returned home and began to make her plans, silently knowing her freedom was just ahead of her. She spent the next few days accommodating various visitors and shopping with her mother. She used the time to pawn off a few baubles in order to pay for her travels in cash. She wanted no way of being tracked. She also narrowed down the items she would take with her: things that were serviceable to wear, a small box for mending, a few more baubles that could easily be tucked on her person and a small sketchbook that was purchased specifically for the trip. Her other sketchbook was full with memories from the past. She was looking to start anew and fresh.

  Elizabeth jerked awake as the conveyance jostled to one side harshly. She was terribly exhausted and sore from the ride. Her corset dug into her terribly and she had rivulets of sweat going down between her shoulder blades despite the cooler temperatures from earlier in the day. The air was stifling inside the coach even with the pace at which they were rolling along. She was very tempted to hang her head out of the window and deal with the repercussions of mussed hair along with a filthy face. Surely they would get notice before entering the next town so they could stop and address their needs prior to arrival?

  Elizabeth’s hair was stylishly perched upon her head and she was quite proud of her chignon. Her hair had always been wavy and the contemporary style that piled the curls upon her head suited her wonderfully. She smoothed it again, sighing dramatically at how she imagined the curls would look if she actually did lean out for more air.

  May’s voice broke her train of thought. “We should be stopping soon for a rest. It will be so nice to stretch our legs and walk for a moment. Don’t you agree?” she queried with a welcoming smile towards Elizabeth. The thought of being able to stretch and getting out of the swinging and bouncing transport was more than enticing.

  Elizabeth grinned at her companion. “Oh, absolutely! I cannot wait for our intermission. I am relieved, however, that it is just us three on the coach. My last trip, into St. Louis, was certainly another story. I did not enjoy being mashed in with five others.” Looking out the window longingly, she stared for a moment at the clouds off on the horizon. They looked like little wisps of breath dotted against the sky. She briefly wondered if they looked the same from her old home and shook her head at the thought. She was free of her forced engagement.

  May nodded in acknowledgement. “I understand completely. Our trip started with Abigail and me perched atop. Thankfully, it was not a long trip,” and seeing Elizabeth’s aghast expression, “and we were perfectly safe together. I would never allow Abigail to do anything dangerous or get hurt,” she explained. The trip had been horrific and terribly bumpy as she remembered. She had ended up tying Abigail to herself and the top rail to ensure neither one got knocked off. This trip would be much longer. May was so pleased to be inside and seated comfortably this time around.

  Elizabeth was surprised that the woman and child had been forced to ride atop. She could not imagine it and it went against everything in her to think of being asked to do so! She wouldn’t think of complaining about her close quarters again, especially if there was a possibility that she could end up hanging on to the swaying conveyance for dear life!

  The reinsman gave a shout, suddenly, and the team pulling the stage began to slow down. Elizabeth watched as the massive cloud of dust settled down to small wisps as the horses began to cool their muscles. The coach finally came to a stop near some trees and a small clearing off the side of the road. Elizabeth watched as Abigail popped up from her seat, excitedly with anticipation, and clapped her hands. All were ready to exit at the first chance!

  Elizabeth noticed that there was another rider that had accompanied the coach via horseback. She shuddered, thinking of being astride in a saddle for hours on end. If the coach was uncomfortable, she could not imagine the pain once dismounting a horse after so long. She was not a horsewoman at all and the times she had ridden had left her horribly sore and tender in a very short time. She watched as the horse circled nervously as the man dismounted and patted it gently along the side of its mane.

  The figure was certainly eye-catching to look upon! As he stood there next to the horse, he beat the dust off his pants and jacket. She had watched him had swing a leg over the saddle and come down from his horse with practiced ease. His denim fit nicely against his body and she was mortified to have noticed how it fit right away.

  As she continued to ogle him, she noticed that he had looked up from under the brim of his hat and saw her watching. Her eyes met his and he tipped his hat towards her in acknowledgement. Elizabeth sunk back into the seat, embarrassed. She had not intended to be caught staring at the strange man!

  She then heard a man’s voice yell out, “Are you ladies going to stretch your legs a few or should we keep going?” Was it her handsome rider or the brutish coachmen? Didn’t matter; neither woman wanted to stay in the carriage. Their eyes met across the small expanse as they shared the same thought.

  Elizabeth started in her seat, when Abigail shrieked, “No! I am getting out!” The little girl exited the conveyance. These were the first words she had spoken all afternoon and May looked to be quite dismayed at the rambunctiousness of the young girl.

  “Abigail! Manners! Ladies do not behave as such,” she chided and followed her down the small steps as quickly as her protesting muscles would allow her. Elizabeth thought of her mother just then and the strict upbringing she’d had. Such gentle chastising would have been followed with a swift rap on the knuckles.

  Elizabeth followed their suit and groaned at the movement. Her body was tight and sore from attempting to hold herself still from all the jostling. She distinctly had chafed areas from her elongated corset and winced as it dug into her side, yet again. Stepping down, she stifled another moan as it felt so good to be standing for a moment.

  She surveyed the area and noticed, first, all the trees and the silence of the landscape. It was so very different from Indianapolis or St. Louis. In town, it was not unusual to hear music from the saloon or horses racing by. Here in the middle of nowhere, she could hear the wind blowing through the trees, twigs snapping from the horses pawing the ground. Abigail’s laughter carried in the air with a bird’s melody. It was peaceful and majestic. Elizabeth excused herself as she headed off towards May and Abigail.

  The coachman had informed the ladies that there was a small stream nearby if they wanted fresh water and to wash up. Elizabeth fully intended to take advantage of it. The idea of washing down her neck and face with cool water was certainly tempting! She broke through the tree line into a small clearing and found the two females splashing about. Farther down the stream, she noticed the cowboy had taken his horse to the edge and was filling his own canteen with the cool water.

  She watched as he took his hat, revealing dark brown curls t
hat looked like something you would see atop a fancy cake at a French bakery. Elizabeth felt a kinship as she watched him dunk his head into the cool water and run a hand through those wet curls, tousling them everywhere. She saw him glance over and smile at her. Elizabeth smiled shyly back and turned away. She wished she could dunk her hair into the water. Instead, she settled for her kerchief and mopped at her neck, delicately attempting to remove some of the sweat from the day. The spring day was dreadfully humid and made her clothing dreadfully warm.

  Cole watched the young woman look him over and smirked. She was dressed along the lines of something you would see in a newspaper or tailor’s window. Her figure was certainly eye-catching, too! There was something about seeing a woman’s hourglass figure that was enticing. Her face was delicate and pale, a sure sign she was not used to the sun and trails ahead. He could almost guarantee that her hands were as soft as the young girls and had not seen a day of work. The stylish up-do looked ready to topple with a stiff wind. Sure it was pretty, but all those curls piled up haphazardly made it look like she had a cloud atop her head.

  “Those women sure are lookers, ain’t they, Cole?” the driver commented while his shotgun agreed heartily. The two elbowed each other a few times like children, grinning and pushing back their large Stetsons. The shotgun had been brought along as guard at Cole’s request. He did not want to travel alone and the fact that there were only three young ladies present did not sit well with him. He did not want to be held up on the slim chance they were carrying post or payroll. No one would know until they had already been stopped and it was too late at that point, sometimes. He had talked the stagers who ran the line into “protecting their investment and reputation” by offering to use their post exclusively for the ranch he had just inherited from his father.