Finding A Bride For The Cowboy (Mail-Order Bride)
Finding a bride for the cowboy
Emma Ashwood
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Chapter 1
2 January 1882, San Antonio, Texas
Most of the region was covered in snow, some suffering beneath a suffocating blanket of ice. But in San Antonio that wasn’t the case. If the locals who had worked the vast plains for generations were to be believed, San Antonians only saw snow once in a lifetime, if they were lucky.
Although the evenings were cold, sometimes even below freezing, the days were temperate and almost pleasant. Laundry wasn’t interrupted by thunder showers as it was prone to be in the summer months; the ranch wasn’t covered in mud, making it hard to work the cattle. No, the ground was hard, cold and thirsty. The cattle walked slower as if saving their energy for the heavy grazing months of spring and summer.
But on a ranch just outside of San Antonio two women sat on a porch overlooking the large herd of cattle grazing in the distance. Although they knew more about cattle than some ranchers did, they didn’t bother with the cattle at all. They preferred spending their days inside, making their cabin a welcoming home and taking care of their mother. It wasn’t that they didn’t like the outdoors or that they preferred making tea and cooking supper, it was more a matter of leaving the cattle to their brother who lived and breathed ranching every day of his life.
Both women were young, their resemblance uncanny. The one preferred gardening where the other would not think twice about having to fix a shingle on the roof or a broken slat on the porch. They were far removed from the polished parlors of the east and spoke with the twang that came with the country on which they had been raised. Their dresses had seen better days and although they were home educated, neither enjoyed reading.
The sun tea they had steeped that morning was served in two glasses as they took a brief reprieve from the household chores.
Bonnie Evans sipped on her tea, her emerald green gaze never missing a thing. Although she was only twenty one, she had a maturity most women yearned for. Her beauty, though understated, could make even a blind man look twice.
“There he goes again,” Bonnie said with a heavy sigh. “Does he ever stop?”
Cassidy Evans shook her head as she followed her sister’s gaze. Although she was only three years older than Bonnie, Cassidy had become the matriarch of the family over the last few years. Their father had contracted consumption two years before and had subsequently passed away leaving the responsibility of the ranch on their brother’s shoulders. Cassidy had noticed the change in her brother’s demeanor, the fine lines that began fanning from the corners of his eyes from spending too much time in the sun. Regardless of their offers to help, Carson insisted on taking care of the cattle himself.
Today it wasn’t Carson who put a look of worry in Cassidy’s gaze, however, it was their mother. Daphne Evans had taken the death of her husband particularly badly. Only months after his passing, she had taken to bed with lung fever. Although the doctor insisted the condition had healed, it seemed as if their mother was deteriorating with the passing of every month.
Just last week she had insisted that Cassidy and Bonnie take her back to the doctor. Although the doctor offered laudanum for her pain, Daphne refused. He revealed to Cassidy in confidence that he could find nothing wrong with their mother. It was a sickness of the mind, which quite simply stole the will to live.
“He won’t stop,” Cassidy said in a heavy voice. “Because he needs to take care of us.”
Daphne huffed. “I just wish there was something we could do. It’s as if a dark cloud has settled over our ranch and no matter how much we try, it just ain’t givin’ way.”
Cassidy nodded in agreement. “Ma isn’t getting up today. Says her back is achin’.”
“Cassidy, we have to do sumtin’. Ma’s given up; Carson is working himself into a stupor. Something’s gotta give or we’re all goin’ to end up six feet under. Cause of death: unhappiness,” Bonnie said with dramatic flair.
Cassidy couldn’t help but grin at her younger sister. Bonnie’s always had a flair for being overly dramatic. “It’s not that bad.”
“It ain’t? Either you’ve stolen blinders from the horses or you just ain’t seein’ straight. Carson hasn’t smiled in months and Ma is just waitin’ to die. You and I are bound to become spinsters if a miracle doesn’t drop a husband in our laps, and there’s talk of snow this year. The world’s comin’ to an end and I don’t even have no one to share it with,” Daphne said, outraged.
Cassidy turned to her sister with a frown. “What do you suggest we do? We took Ma to the doctor. We’ve asked Carson to slow down. I don’t see there is anythin’ we can do.”
Bonnie frowned before a mischievous glint shone in her bright green eyes. “I know exactly what we can do. You remember what Ma said last week on our way back from town? That she’ll be dust before her son takes a wife?”
Cassidy nodded. Their mother had been nagging about the next generation ever since their father passed away. “Yep, I remember. What are you sayin’?”
Bonnie leaned closer. She glanced at Carson sitting atop his stallion as he rode the fence line before she turned back to Cassidy. “Let’s find Carson a wife. Just think about it. Ma will be excited about the weddin’ and hopefully find hope in the thought of havin’ grandchildren. And if we find him the right wife, he might just remember how to smile.”
Cassidy laughed, shaking her head. “Bonnie, I think you’d best get inside. You’ve had enough winter sun for one mornin’, you’re starting to spew nonsense.”
“No,” Bonnie insisted. “Carson doesn’t have time to find a wife because he’s too busy takin’ care of us. We can be real sly about it. He doesn’t have to know. Come one, Cassidy, do you have a better plan?”
Cassidy thought for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “We can try. But I won’t be foolin’ him none, Bonnie. Carson is stubborn, he’ll shove us on the nose about buttin’ into his business.”
Bonnie’s smile brightened. “No, he won’t, not if he falls in love first.”
Cassidy laughed, “You’re bein’ hopeful, but at least that’s better than not havin’ any hope at all.”
“Exactly. Come on, let’s start makin’ a list of potential women in town.”
“Now?” Cassidy asked. “I’ve got to get the laundry down and make sure Ma takes her bath.”
“That can wait,” Bonnie insisted. “We got important business we need to tend to. The business of makin’ this ranch a happy one again.”
Cassidy couldn’t help but chuckle at her sister’s insistence. Judging by the look in Bonnie’s eyes they were about to plan the next war. She could already see strategy forming in her little sister’s mind. “Alright, we can try, but like I said, Carson is stubborn like Pa used to be. He might just marry us off out of anger.”
“He won’t marry us off,” Bonnie said, shaking her head. “If he wanted to get rid of us he would’ve done so long time ago. He loves us, he just doesn’t know how to show it.”
Cassidy followed Bonnie inside, but she couldn’t help but be doubtful about their plan. But at least Bonnie was smil
ing, and it would give her something to do instead of worrying about her mother’s mystery illness.
Chapter 2
2 January 1882, Boston, Massachusetts
Boston was covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Outside, the wind had fingers of ice reaching through every coat, crack and door. In the better part of town where brownstone houses lined the street and men hurried to work wearing suits, the trees were standing guard, their branches empty and eerie as if reaching out towards each other.
But inside a brownstone lay a woman who knew she wouldn’t see another summer, another sunrise or another dawn. The drapes were drawn, casting the room in darkness although it was morning and the sun was casting its rays outside the windows. After fighting against the illness that was slowly stealing her life over the last few months, she no longer noticed much.
But Elizabeth Mason did notice how her strength seemed to have disappeared this morning. Her chest hurt and every draw of breath felt like a million daggers stabbing through her lungs. The doctor had said consumption could be fatal, but not for a woman of her class.
Her hands smoothed over the thick furs that covered her bedspread. Her eyes glanced around the expensive furnishings of the room. The beautiful mantle over the fireplace and the artwork she had carefully shipped from Ireland to grace her new home. Turning on her side she noticed her jewelry box and a wry smile curved her mouth. Neither her diamonds, her pearls or even her wealth could save her now.
A tear slipped over her cheek knowing that today would be her last. She had woken up that morning knowing that today would be the day that she proceeded to St. Peter’s gates. Today would be the last time she looked into her daughter’s sapphire blue eyes. She closed her eyes and remembered the country of her birth.
Ireland had been a beautiful emerald isle with towering cliffs and ancient castles. So much history, so much legacy, her family legacy, was weaved into the fabric of Ireland. But the great famine had changed it all. Not their ancestral castle nor their connections with the great clans could protect the McGregor’s from the famine or the economic repercussions it brought.
When her father insisted she travel to the new world where she would be free of famine and persecution for her faith, Elizabeth had refused. Her life was on the emerald isle, as was her love. Daniel McFadden had been her first love. His blue eyes had caught her attention when she was a wee girl of twelve. They had suffered through the famine together. When the famine ended, they had married in a small chapel, speaking their vows and promising love until death do they part. Little had she known Daniel would pass away only two years later in a gruesome battle over land.
The famine had caused people to become unreasonable; the poor hated the rich and rebelled against their wealth. Widowed at the age of twenty five, Elizabeth had found herself to be with child. That was when her father stepped in again. He had secured a marriage for Elizabeth to Damien Taylor. A man of healthy means who was headed to the new world.
Elizabeth had boarded the ship and left her Daniel and her home behind, to secure a better life for her unborn child. Anna-Sophia had been born on American soil, and Damien had accepted her as his own. Together they had built a new life in Boston. But now, on her death bed, Elizabeth wished she could have given her daughter the legacy of Ireland that she carried inside her. Now a grown woman of twenty two years, Anna-Sophia had become a beautiful woman. Elizabeth wished she could live long enough to see her daughter married, to bounce a grandchild on her knee, but she knew that day would never come.
The door squeaked open and Elizabeth rolled onto her side to see Anna-Sophia standing at the door. “Mother, how are you feeling?”
Elizabeth worked her way through a fitting cough before she finally managed to speak. “Call your father, I need to talk to both of you.”
When Anna-Sophia hesitated, Elizabeth sighed. “Please Annie, it can’t wait.”
Over the last few weeks Elizabeth had picked up on the tension between her daughter and her husband. Although it worried her, she was certain it was all due to her illness.
A short while later Annie and Damien stepped into the room. Damien rushed to her side. His hair was no longer black, but now peppered with white. The age had affected them both. There wasn’t a single doubt in Elizabeth’s mind that Damien would wed again. He was handsome, rich and of good social standing. It was her daughter’s future that concerned her.
“You called for me, my darling?” Damien asked pressing a kiss to her hand.
Elizabeth nodded. “I have a few things to say, please just listen. Both of you.”
Damien and Annie both nodded, concern and empathy etched on their faces.
“Damien, I know my time is drawing to a close. I need to know that when I go you’ll take care of Annie. I need to know you’ll care for her as you have done all these years.”
Damien glanced at Annie and quickly nodded. “Of course. I’ve always treated her as my own, I won’t stop. We’re a family.”
Elizabeth didn’t like the way he said that but turned to her daughter. “Annie, I want you to know how much I love you. You’re the light in my life, your father’s daughter in every way. I know he would have been proud of you. I’ve taught you all I could, but there is one more thing I need to give you.” Elizabeth coughed weakly and reached for the jewelry box on the bedside table. “My brooch and necklace, it’s yours.”
Annie shook her head as tears streamed over her cheeks. “Mother, I can’t. These are your family jewels. The diamond brooch: your grandmother received it as a gift from a king. The pearl necklace…. No, I can’t possibly.”
“They’re your family jewels now. It’s all you’ll ever have of the McGregor’s, of your Irish ancestry. Take them and find happiness. Find love, Annie.” Elizabeth didn’t add that the she wanted her daughter to find the type of love she had shared with Daniel. Although she had grown to care for Damien and appreciated him, she had never loved him in the way she had loved Daniel.
“I will, Mother, I will. Rest now, you’ll feel better later.” Annie wept holding the jewelry box to her chest.
Elizabeth glanced at Damien and smiled even as she felt a terrible tiredness come over her. Her eyes drifted closed as if they were attached to weights. She drew in a heavy breath, but before she could expel it, her heart stopped.
Finally the pain was gone, the longing for Daniel and the biting cold all faded away as Elizabeth Mason passed away peacefully on a cold winter’s morning in Boston.
Chapter 3
8 January 1882, San Antonio, Texas
Although neither Bonnie nor Cassidy were avid horse-women, their father had taught them to drive the wagon. So this morning they had used their combined skills and headed to San Antonio under the guise of purchasing a few items for the house from the mercantile store. Although they did need flour and a supply of sugar wouldn’t be amiss, that wasn’t the real reason for their trip into town.
After almost a week of debating how they would find Carson a wife, the sisters had finally decided that a closer look at the available women in town would be their best option. They started the morning by stopping at the telegram office before moving onto the boarding house. From the boarding house they stopped by the hotel, the newspaper office and the school, using the excuse of wishing everyone a happy new year.
By the time noon rolled around they had laid eyes on every available woman in town, and it was time for them to decide who they would pair with their handsome brother. They indulged in tea on the new balcony of the hotel overlooking the thorough fare as Bonnie pulled out a list they had made over the last few days.
“Right, so let’s start at the top. Dolly Anderson?” Bonnie asked with a frown. “I’m sorry, but we can’t do that to Carson. Dolly has barely any teeth in her head, and over and above that, I’m sure she smelt of drink.”
Cassidy nodded. “She did. Right, Dolly’s out of the count. Who’s next?”
“Emma Wilson,” Bonnie said, holding the pen over the poor girl’s
name, ready to scrap it off their list as well.
“Too old and I heard a rumor she’s been goin’ around with that outlaw that’s been hanging about at the saloon. Next?” Cassidy said, sipping on her tea.
“Lakota Thompson. I have nothing against her mother’s checkered past, but what if we have little bandit young’uns hunting down the cattle?” Bonnie asked with horror.
Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh. “I doubt Carson’s own kids would dare hunt his cattle, but Dolly mentioned that Lakota is engaged to the leader of the bandits her mother was entangled with.”
“Oh,” Bonnie said dejectedly as she scratched the pretty girl’s name from the list. “Then we have Liza, the schoolmarm. She’s pretty and nice. Maybe Carson will like her?” Bonnie asked hopefully.
Cassidy cocked a brow, quickly glanced around the balcony to make sure no one was within earshot and then emitted a high-pitched giggle. “Do you really think Carson will be charmed by that? Every time she laughed I looked around for the pig that was being slaughtered.”
Bonnie snorted as she laughed. Tears spouted from her eyes and she shook her head. “Cassidy, you’re horrible.”
“At least I don’t have anything against Lakota,” Cassidy said primly. “Who’s next?”
“Martha Wilkinson?” Bonnie said with a frown. “She’s as big as a house. Do you even think she’ll fit into our house?”
Cassidy chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re going to be punished. We both are.”
“No we’re not. We simply want someone nice and endearing for our brother to spend the rest of his life with. We’re not being mean, we’re being considerate.”