The Independent Bride: Mail Order Bride (Boulder Brides Book 2) Read online

  “You flatter me, Lizbeth,” he groaned and sat up. “Are you two going to get married?”

  “We’ve been talking about it. Trader Cole’s getting old and Ezra had been taking over the post more and more. We can handle it, I know. Mr. Haldeman taught me my numbers very well, and he says Ezra has a natural aptitude.”

  “A mixed marriage is dangerous around the miners.”

  “Trader Cole was one of the first people to settle here. He was here before the miners and before the ranchers. His first customers were Indians and trappers. No one can tell Midas Cole who to take for family. That’s what he told us and he’s standing by us.”

  “And your father?”

  “My father is a terrible man, Mr. Samuelson. I hear now he is trying to sell off my sister, Mary Lou. He sees his daughters as his own gold mine. Why should I care what he thinks?”

  “Have you told Hannah?”

  “Hannah wants to marry a wealthy rancher and forget about the shop. Why should I rely on her for anything?”

  “She’s getting married?”

  “Probably, unless you can manage to turn her head. She sold us out, Mr. Samuelson. She sold all her fancy dreams about strong women and what they can do and has chosen the easy route. I believed in her once. I don’t anymore. Now I just believe in Ezra.”

  “How did your mother die?” asked Lester, changing the subject.

  “She had a white man’s fever,” Ezra muttered.

  Lizbeth explained further. “She caught the measles. The youngest, Bethany was only thirteen months old at the time. Trader Cole has been raising all five children on his own for I guess seven years now.”

  “We help him,” said Ezra pointing at his sister, then himself.

  The sister tugged at Ezra’s shirt and whispered. Ezra nodded. “It’s late. We’ve got to go now. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Samuelson. I’ve seen you around, and some folk have been happy for it. But I ain’t never heard you play the flute before. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone play like that. You should play like that again, at the trading post. Everyone there would really like it.”

  Zack remained until the others had scampered off. “You’re anxious to see if your flute is still there. Go ahead, look.”

  “Wouldn’t that be saying I don’t trust you?” Still, his hand betrayed him, exploring along the outside of the travel bag until it found the shape of the box inside it. He gave a short chuckle. “It’s the only possession of value I have. You would think I could end this vanity.”

  “It’s not a possession. It’s an extension of yourself. You should accept that part of you, preacher man.”

  “I’m not a preacher.”

  “And that too. You should accept that.”

  Zack left him alone, with the sun hanging off one edge of a cliff like a climber. “Do you see what I mean, Thunder Heart? I’m just a cowpony. I can never be magnificent.”

  Still, the afternoon called back to him, rich and sparkling with laughter. As they reached the well-traveled road, the ground beaten into raw wagon tracks, he loosened the reins, encouraging his horse into a gallop. “Ride free. Ride with your heart hanging on your sleeve, just like the dirtbags,” he whispered into his horse’s ears.

  Chapter 6

  Lizbeth and Hannah both crowded in close to examine their faces in the mirror and to correct any flaws in their hairstyles. “Are you sure I should wear my bonnet so high on my head?” worried Lizbeth.

  “Oh yes. Then you let these curls hang down, just so. Now show me what you do with the parasol.”

  Lizbeth opened the frilly accessory, twirled it a few times, then balanced it over her head, so the parasol half covered her face. From the other side, she smiled coquettishly and partially bowed her head.

  “That was perfect. You are a natural. Walk with controlled steps, so you don’t destroy the bustle. It would be a disaster if it slipped sideways.”

  “And I would appear very strange, like one of those monstrosities in the traveling circus.” She practiced her parade around the room, pulling back her skirts with one hand while holding the parasol in the other.

  “Short steps, Lizbeth, not long ones. You’re not behind a plow.”

  “Oh, is it really necessary to look so proper?” asked Lizbeth in exasperation.

  “Yes. Everybody who is somebody is going to be there. We have officers from Camp Collins and company people from Denver. There will be cattle ranchers, property owners of every type, and investors in new business. Oh yes, my dear. It’s imperative to look proper. The only way to make money is to impress those who have money.”

  “The way you have impressed Mr. Parks?”

  “I would say he is quite the gentleman worth impressing. You would do well to mingle with the cattle ranchers yourself.”

  “I don’t wish to. This festival is a fund-raiser for the town. It was organized by the teachers – your friends. My friends. The people who raised me up to learn how to read and write and do my numbers. The people who sheltered me. I’m attending for them, for the community. I’m not abandoning them.”

  “I’m not abandoning them, either.”

  “You are if you plan to live as a rich cattleman’s wife. You’ll be here once a month for supplies and mingle your riches with those who already have wealth. You won’t be a part of us, Hannah. You’ll be a part of them.”

  “Hannah, please understand. I love Jeremy Parks.”

  “Only if you understand that the one I choose to love is not in compliance with your wishes, either.”

  They strode out the door together, arm in arm, their steps matching. They caught up with Jeremy who was waiting at the Palace doors and continued up the street to the far edge of town. There, picnic tables had been set up in a scattered fashion to form a large square in the middle of a well-grazed pasture. A hastily built pavilion of stone and scrap lumber marked the center spot. Occasionally, someone would appear on the pavilion with a bullhorn to make an announcement, but it was generally turned over to skilled and not so skillful entertainers

  “Tell me, Mr. Parks,” said Lizbeth, twirling her parasol the way she had practiced. “Why is it that you never accompany Miss Barclay to her flat?”

  “Miss Barclay lives further downtown than my place of stay,” Jeremy answered. “If I were to meet her at the door, I would have to double back.”

  “I was under the impression that a gentleman does these things. Lester never asks Hannah to meet him somewhere. He goes directly to her door.”

  “Lester?” asked Jeremy, his brows drawing together in the middle and raising upwards.

  “Don’t concern yourself with Lester,” exclaimed Hannah. “He’s the brother of my best friend and takes a few liberties because of it. He is tasteless. He makes juvenile jokes. He dallies around loose women without a bit of shame.”

  “Perhaps,” sniffed Lizbeth. “But only to be kindly. If you’ll excuse me, I see some friends to visit.”

  Hannah sighed and fanned her face. Despite the shade of the parasol, the heat was beginning to make her perspire. “I have no idea what has come over Lizbeth. She will be leaving me. That’s clear. She has already declared her emancipation. As soon as she turns eighteen, she intends to do as she pleases. I suppose you cannot breed the foolishness out of a child who has been raised by a foolish father.”

  “What does she intend to do?”

  “I don’t know. Lizbeth hasn’t told me, and that’s what is truly frightening. If it were something I could approve of, she would be bubbling over with it, so eager in her joy. Ah, and there, you see, is Lester. I should have known she would go straight over to him, wagging her tongue.”

  With the two men in the same location, it was easy to see Lester did not hold up well to Jeremy. He had a pleasant enough face, with a Swedish complexion that absorbed the sun easily, and an upright, Germanic build to go with it, but the features were slightly feminine and accentuated by wheat-colored hair that flopped over at either side of his face and curled slightly at t
he ears.

  He dressed in a homespun muslin shirt and wore suspenders with his trousers. He was laughing and slapping shoulders with a very unsavory group. They were an unwashed, ragtag band who filled themselves up unabashedly at the tables where volunteers had brought food and drink, and practiced gigs among themselves while the fiddlers played from the pavilion. They pushed each other, slapped at each other playfully and overall behaved like ruffians.

  “It would seem Lester is not at all discriminating in the company he keeps,” observed Jeremy.

  “That is precisely my point. To compare him to a gentleman is preposterous.”

  As though to prove her point, Lester suddenly broke from the group and burst by as one of the contestants in a game to catch a greased pig. Hannah stepped aside quickly and bumped into Joseph Marston. “Oh my goodness, such a chaotic day,” she gasped.

  “But you can’t expect less once you take the bridles off the horses,” he agreed. “Is this your beau?”

  “Yes. Mr. Parks, please meet Joseph Marston, Greta’s husband.”

  “I’ve heard much about you,” said Jeremy. “It seems you have a fondness for saving damsels in distress.”

  “Oh, not at all. That’s my wife’s specialty. That is, between her and the Haldeman’s. All that I am is their driver.”

  “And now you are building a shelter?”

  “For the unmarried and widowed women, yes. A stable place where they can live normal lives and conduct traditional courtships. Miss Barclay gave us the idea. Rather than marry the first man to ask for her hand, she chose her independence. Because of this, she was able to help Lizbeth and to help hide a mother and child from her persecutors until a wagon train came. How many more can we save from the torments of the godless and corrupt by having a place where they can live decently and honestly? Many we hope.”

  “A noble endeavor. And your brother-in-law seeks out recruits?”

  “My brother-in-law…” A smile quirked at Joseph’s usually serious face. “My brother-in-law recruits those who make a joyful noise.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t fully understand.”

  “I did not truly expect you would. Lester has agreed to play the flute today to help with our fundraiser. Perhaps his music will reveal something about him.”

  His performance wasn’t scheduled for another hour. Hannah and Jeremy filled their plates and sat at a table where they could observe the entire promenade. Jeremy pointed to some men in uniform. “Camp Collins officers. There’s Captain Rawlings. I served under him a while. Bravest man I ever met. He was a part of the enlisted who kept the stagecoach trail safe during the wartime years. The Indians had taken out all the southwestern routes, and it was vital to keep the Atchison-Camp Collins route open.

  That’s his daughter, over there. She’s as much of a soldier as any man. Her daddy says she cut her first tooth on a rifle butt.”

  Hannah glanced to where he was pointing. The girl was perhaps in her mid-twenties, with glistening, chocolate colored curls and lashes that shadowed her cheeks. She stood alone but appeared not in the least self-conscious about it. She watched the ragged group that called themselves dirtbags with curiosity, as they cavorted and danced with each other. A number of young cowboys were watching her, but none approached her.

  “Are they all afraid of her?” Hannah whispered.

  “The last man to court her, she shot in the foot. She said he was behaving inappropriately. I think he just wanted to kiss her. He would have been better off just asking her. She might have hit him in the face but probably wouldn’t have shot him.”

  “You admire her,” said Hannah, noticing his expression.

  He shook his head. “She was raised on fire and steel. She’s a true wilderness woman.” But there was a note of wistfulness in his voice that said he believed a wilderness woman was a fine thing to have.

  Hannah wished later they had never gone to the festival, or if they had, would have spent far less time there. Not only had Jeremy become distracted by the captain’s daughter, but her own heart began to churn with turmoil.

  It happened when Lester played the flute. First, there was an announcement from Mr. Haldeman, who was beginning to show the effects of aging. Always a little portly, his stoutness now made the sweat flow freely on his face and his breathing a little irregular. His condition did not affect his enthusiasm, however. After thanking everyone for gathering and encouraging a donation, he made a pitch for the music department and introduced his star musician.

  The star musician was accompanied by a young girl from the settlement with an astonishing, crystal clear voice. While Lester played the notes to the traditional Welch ballad, “The Ash Grove”, the girl sang the lyrics. There was scarcely a dry eye anywhere or a word spoken when the song ended.

  “I think we should leave now,” said Hannah abruptly. “I’m really ready to go.”

  “Are you upset about something?”

  “No. Yes. Jeremy, I’m not ready to leave Boulder. There are things I’ve left unfinished.”

  “What? Your shop? You won’t need a shop. You’ll be wealthy.”

  “It isn’t just that. I made a life here for myself. I’m attached to the town. I have friends. They are like family to me. If I leave, I have to start over, and I already did it once. I already left everyone I knew and loved behind. I’m not ready to do it again.”

  “This town will give you nothing but a dance girl job. That’s all you’ll ever be if you stay. A dance hall girl.”

  “You said once you would give me all the time I wanted.”

  “And now I think if I give you more time, I will lose you.”

  “You’ll always hold a place in my heart.”

  He gripped her by the upper arms and looked deeply into her eyes. His mouth crushed down on hers, exploring and urgent, and she drank in the sweetness, reluctant to let go. He touched her eyes, her nose, and her hair with his lips as his grip slowly loosened to hold her close one more time. “I hope…” he said, his mouth wandering over to her ear while wrapping her in his arms. “It is a very large place.”

  She let him hold her for several long seconds before gently backing away. “I’ll always be here, Jeremy. But don’t ask me to marry you because I don’t think I can.”

  She wanted to cry. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes but held back. It was the music. For an instant, she had been carried away into memories she had long ago put aside. Memories of exquisite balls, the classical notes of the musicians carrying her away into a fairyland where all dreams come true, and paradise was just beyond the veil into the future. An instant before the war, then the door shut and she was once more a dispossessed woman who had taken her dreams west and had found a place for herself in the bosom of Boulder.

  All she had to do was follow him, and her dreams would come true, yet the voice at the back of her mind whispered, that isn’t true. You want more Hannah, than to be somebody’s decoration. You want more than wealth and pleasure. You want… She wouldn’t let that secret voice form the words. You want to be successful, she told herself sternly, before stealing a glance at Lester.

  Chapter 7

  One week after Lizbeth turned eighteen, she moved out of the flat with Hannah. She never gave an explanation other than she was returning to the settlement. It felt ghostly to live alone after the lively months of having the young girl fill the rooms with her chatter and Hannah often felt her mind wandering over recent events and how there seemed to be an unspoken conflict between them. Lizbeth stopped opening up to her once she had started courting Jeremy, and Hannah never truly understood it. Perhaps because her childish mind could not separate loyalties from affairs of the heart.

  In fact, Hannah decided, that was precisely the problem. Lizbeth favored Lester, and she felt Hannah should favor Lester, too. Lester had become more obnoxious than ever. Somehow, he always managed to corner her in the street and talk about things that really didn’t interest her.

  He was insufferable, yet after Lizbeth lef
t and Jeremy returned to his ranch, she found herself seeking out Lester’s company more and more. He made himself readily available. When he wasn’t at the construction site, he was either waiting around at the stage depot or visiting the dance hall.

  “Why do you come here,” she asked one night after wrapping up her final dance number. “Seriously. Why do you come here when you are neither a man of strong appetites nor a gambler?”

  “There’s a very pretty lady I like watching up on stage.”

  “No Lester. I don’t believe that. If you enjoyed watching me on stage, I would think less of you.”

  “Then I don’t enjoy seeing you on stage. I think every man who looks at you should be pistol whipped, myself included. Hannah, if you think what you’re doing is so terrible, why didn’t you leave with your cattleman?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Lizbeth is getting married.”

  “What?” She didn’t know why she felt shocked. She had suspected Lizbeth had a secret beau. It just seemed wrong that Lester should know first. “Who?”

  “Ezra Cole. They are tying the bond tomorrow night at the trading post. I’m going to be the best man.”

  “Lizbeth’s father isn’t going to accept that. Ezra is half Indian. Is she out of her mind? Lester, you need to convince her not to do this. It will ruin her life.”

  “I don’t think I can. I’m going to be the best man. That practically makes me a main attraction.”

  “Just once in your life, would you be serious? What Lizbeth wants to do is dangerous. Don’t go to the wedding. Don’t watch her life go to ruin. Don’t get involved in this affair. You will suffer consequences for it, Mr. Samuelson.”

  “I can’t really do that, either. I was hoping you would like to come, but maybe not. A mining camp isn’t really suitable for a woman like you.”

  “I refuse to watch Lizbeth go down that path, Lester.”

  He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes so long, she began to feel uncomfortable. “You won’t change my mind,” she said, moving aside his hand.