A Bride for Frank, page 1
A Bride for Frank
Cynthia Woolf
Copyright © 2022 by Cynthia Woolf
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All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.
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Published by Firehouse Publishing
Woolf, Cynthia
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Cover design copyright © 2022 Lori Jackson Design
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
About the Author
Stay Connected!
Also by Cynthia Woolf
Chapter One
May 6, 1880
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Maisie watched as Warden Ezra Dean sat behind his desk and shuffled a small stack of papers. He was of average height, with graying brown hair, brown eyes and spectacles that were forever on the end of his nose, just as Ivy’s were. Absentmindedly, he pushed them back up. His uniform was the same dark blue wool as the guard’s except with two stars on the epaulettes.
His office was nothing special. Four gray walls with two windows that overlooked the prison yard. His desk, made of a dark wood, was simple in design, with two drawers on either side and a place for a chair in the middle.
Maisie knew it well enough having cleaned the office for almost three years.
“If you women agree to become mail-order brides your five-year sentence will be commuted to time served.”
She tried to pay attention to what he was saying but when she heard bride she froze.
“Maisie?” asked Warden Dean.
She looked over at her sister, whose blue-green eyes that matched Maisie’s own, were wide, pleading with her sister. Maisie knew the answer before she said her name. “Lottie?”
Lottie nodded. “Please, Maisie.”
She knew Lottie wanted to get married and have children in the worst way. Maisie could deny her twin nothing. Even after the bad experience of her own first marriage, she would do it all again so Lottie could have her dream. “I’m going wherever Lottie goes and I know she wants to get married, so, yeah, I guess I’m going.”
Lottie squeezed her hand and then nodded at the warden. “I’m going, too.”
Gwen, Ivy and Fiona all said “yes.”
It seemed they were all about to marry the Campbell brothers…for better or for worse.
Maisie listened as Fiona looked over at the warden and gave him their answer. “You’ve got five volunteers to be mail-order brides. Where are we headed?”
Yes, where are we headed? Out of the Arizona Territory I hope. Someplace with cooler weather and less bugs. Maisie crossed her fingers then waved a fly out of her face. She hated the flies that were constantly around the prison, as was the hot weather.
“Back to Prescott,” said the warden.
Maisie almost groaned. Just her luck going back to Prescott…the place of their downfall. The town where the bank they robbed sat. The town that had been home to them all for a short time and was at least more pleasant in temperature than Yuma. How five Irish women came to be alone in a town like Prescott, she didn’t know. But they had and they’d all gravitated toward each other.
Maisie was working as a maid in the hotel, when she met Fiona who also worked there. Fiona introduced her to her friends—Gwen, who was a former prostitute and Ivy, who was a widow like Maisie. Lottie worked in the bank president’s house as a maid. He was wealthy and his wife refused to clean her own home.
Maisie snapped her attention back to the warden. “You’re marrying the Campbell brothers of the Campbell Ranch, known as the Circle C Ranch. Your husbands are the five brothers who live at the ranch. You’ll all be married and move there the day you arrive. The five brothers run the ranch, inherited from their parents just last year. Ross is the oldest, followed by Clayton, Franklyn, Tucker and Brodie. Clayton and Ross are twins, but I’m told, Ross is older by about twenty minutes,.” He pulled a small packet of papers from a file box on his desk.
“I can’t tell you which man will marry which woman, I guess that depends on the men." He stood and strode around the desk. “I have the background on each of them on these papers.” He handed them to Fiona who was generally accepted as their leader. “I also have stage tickets from Yuma to Prescott, for you. It’s a three-day journey and though more comfortable than the wagon that brought you here, it will still be a long, uncomfortable journey.” He handed those to Fiona, too. Then he leaned forward on the desk, resting on his forearms.
“Our stagecoach, not our wagon, will take you into Yuma. There are new clothes for each of you in your room. I was fairly sure what your answers would be, since your sentences will be commuted to the two-and-a-half years of the five-year sentence that you’ve served. The Campbells have provided you with the new clothes. Mrs. Dean helped me with the dress sizes. You each have a new dress, in various colors, so you don’t look like you’re from prison. Plus you have a skirt, blouse, traveling cloak and some underthings, too. Go change and then get on the stage. You’ll each find a reticule, as well. You can put your papers in it. It also contains money for traveling expenses provided by the Campbells.”
Maisie hugged Lottie who held her sister tight.
The other three women laughed delightedly.
Then they all ran back to the cells they’d shared for almost three years. Lottie, Maisie and Gwen in one cell and Fiona and Ivy in another right across the hall. The warden hadn’t lied. On each bed was a dress, each a different color, a black bombazine skirt and a blouse in the same hue as the dress. Maisie’s dress and blouse were in pink, which happened to be one of her favorite colors. With her silver-blonde hair, pink was a very good color for her. Also on the bed were two pairs of new bloomers, two chemises, two pairs of cotton stockings with the ribbons to hold them up, a new pair of boots and a corset.
Maisie could have done without the corset. To her mind it was just a torture device for women. She couldn’t work in one, as it didn’t allow much movement. She’d probably be able to do the dishes, if someone else got the water. She decided she’d take it off at the first opportunity…after she’d married her husband.
The more Maisie thought about marrying again, the more her stomach churned. What if this man, this Campbell, was like her dead husband? She’d kill him before she would go through that pain again. She shook her head to clear the ghosts from the past and returned her gaze to her cot.
There was also a carpet bag on the bed to put everything in. Maisie placed her prison dress in the bottom, then the extra bloomers, chemise, and stockings.
Maisie thought about leaving the prison dress, but decided the garment could always be used to work in, as it had been for the last two-and-a-half years. If it could last all that time with only small repairs, it would be good for working around the house. It didn’t fit well anymore anyway, she’d lost too much weight, but it would make good rags, if nothing else. Then she dressed in the pink calico dress and packed the skirt and blouse in the bag. Her entire life in one carpetbag and it wasn’t even full…how sad was that?
After everyone had packed, Fiona handed out the stage tickets.
Maisie picked up her reticule and was surprised to find money. “The warden wasn’t kidding when he said the Campbells provided for our traveling expenses.” She held out her hand with ten dollars in coins.
Maisie watched as Fiona emptied her reticule into her hand and closed her fingers over the money. “Well, we do have to buy food on the journey and it’s not enough to make an escape with. Not that we could anyway. I have no desire to go back to prison so I have to at least get married before I leave to find Billy.”
Maisie went to Fiona and put an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll get your son back. I just know it.”
Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything.
Maisie knew she was on the verge of tears and gave her a quick squeeze before she put her ticket in her reticule and finished putting on her new boots. She couldn’t imagine being Fiona and having to ransom her son from his father.
Maisie picked up her carpetbag with the big yellow rose on it and filed outside with the other women. She climbed in the unmarked black stagecoach owned by the prison. Maisie was ready for whatever would come.
The coach was black inside. The seats were planks of wood covered in black leather with no padding of any kind. Leather curtains, that rolled down to keep out the dust, were over the windows and the straps above the windows for the passengers to hold were just pieces of raw leather with no finish. Maisie knew if she had to travel for four days on a plank of wood, she would barely be able to sit by the time they reached Prescott, but as Warden Dean said, it wasn’t the prison wagon and that was good.
The landscape from the prison to Yuma was dry and dusty. She didn’t even see a jack rabbit or other living animal. She understood why they put the prison there. No one could live in this desert and they didn’t pass any watering holes on the way to Yuma, just desert and more desert.
The stagecoach from Yuma to Prescott was very different inside from the prison’s stage. The padded seats were covered with green leather attached with brass brads. Each door had a finished strap above it on either side for the window passengers to hold when the going got rough. The windows, including the one on the door, were covered with leather flaps decorated with roses and leaves. Above the seats was a plain black material that covered the wood ceiling. That was the only similarity with the prison stagecoach.
The prison stage had gone by the time the stage to Prescott arrived so no one knew they were from the prison. It was nice to be treated without bias for the first time in years. She was happy to be wearing a real dress and not the black wool dress she’d worn for the last two-and-a-half years. She actually felt free. The money from the robbery would help her to really be free. No one to answer to and no man to beat her up whenever he felt like it.
Maisie watched the landscape out the window. Yuma was in the Sonoran Desert, and even so it was beautiful compared to the prison. Yucca plants and tall saguaro cacti dotted the landscape. The closer they got to Prescott, the more trees they saw. Prescott sat in a valley in the Bradshaw Mountains and was full of pine trees, blue spruce, fir trees and quaking aspen. The aspen would turn gold in the fall along with many of the smaller bushes and shrubs, which turn orange and red. It was quite the sight to see, one Maisie had missed.
Gwen was the smallest and sat in the middle for the first leg of the trip from Yuma to Prescott. At each stage stop, they rotated so no one sat next to the windows all the time.
After they’d been on the road for about an hour, but before the first stop, Fiona broached the subject that Maisie knew they’d all been thinking about. “What about the money? You all know where it’s hidden. I will need my share to get Billy back. But first I have to find his father, Simon.”
Gwen turned to face Fiona from the middle next to Maisie “If you ask me, you should find someone to get rid of Simon and take Billy.”
Fiona clenched her teeth. “If I thought I could, I would. Then he couldn’t hurt Billy anymore.”
Maisie couldn’t imagine what Fiona must be going through. Cruel men, just like her husband and Simon who was also known as the outlaw, Black Bart, should never become husbands or fathers. Would her new husband be a cruel man? What was she thinking? Weren’t all men cruel? Would she be better off finishing out her sentence rather than marrying some unknown man? Perhaps, but then Lottie might miss out on becoming the wife and mother she’d always dreamed of being. Maisie wouldn’t do anything to destroy Lottie’s dreams.
She looked over at Lottie. Her sister was perpetually happy…a trait Maisie didn’t share with her twin. She had a smile and was looking forward to marriage and hopefully children. Lottie was a virgin. She didn’t know what marriage could be like, and Maisie wasn’t about to tell her what Maisie’s had been like. She never figured out why she was sold to Donald Kunkle by her father, but Lottie had remained home and unscathed by the harshness of the world, and Maisie was grateful for that small blessing.
What about the deputy I owe money to? Will he want more than the money Donald owed Slade’s employer? He said if I don’t pay him the money Donald owed, he’d hurt Lottie and I can never let that happen. No one knows what I need my money for and I intend to keep it that way. Lottie would be so disappointed to be the reason for my needing the money. If it weren’t to keep her safe, I’d tell Slade where he and his employer can go. Luckily, he doesn’t know about the map Donald left me or he’d probably want that, too.
Maisie didn’t have any idea how long it was between stage stops but her stomach was howling with its need for food. The first three stops hadn’t been longer than ten minutes. Barely long enough to refresh themselves before they were traveling on down the road. Finally, they stopped again and got out to stretch their legs. Maisie appreciated every stop and took the opportunity to clean herself at each stop if water was provided for such a thing.
Maisie was the first in line to get in the coach, but the driver stood in front of the door with one hand on the door handle and the other pointed at them. “Ladies, we’ll be at the next stop for about an hour. Make sure you eat, because we won’t stop again for more than ten minutes all night. The food ain’t the best, but it’s filling. It costs a dollar, which is highway robbery, but we can’t do anything about that, either.” He opened the door and waved them into the coach. “Just thought I should warn you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Simms.” Maisie lifted her skirt, grabbed the hand hold and ascended the iron steps into the stagecoach. “We’ll be sure to eat.”
At the next stop, the building was in fairly good condition, made of unvarnished wood, not logs, that had turned gray with age but were straight. Inside the floor was clean and tables with benches were in the main room. On one wall was a bar with a couple bottles of liquor on the shelf behind. To the side of the bar was a curtain which appeared to separate the owner’s sleeping quarters and kitchen from the rest of the building. On the wall directly across from the door was a fireplace with a pot of something cooking in it.
“Welcome, ladies.” A skinny man with a scraggly graying beard and a full head of dark hair, held the door for them. His clothes were stained but clean.
“Thank you, sir.” Maisie stepped deeper into the room.
The other ladies followed suit.
“I got coffee, fresh bread and beans for you ladies, if you’re hungry.”
“Oh, yes, please,” said Lottie.
Maisie cocked her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “I think all of us will be eating, Mister…”
“Jefferies. Samuel Jefferies. Pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Jefferies. I’m Maisie, this is my sister Lottie.” She pointed at Lottie.
Lottie waved her fingers. “Hi.”
“I’m Fiona.” She nodded and moved to one of the tables and sat.
“I’m Ivy.” She followed Fiona and sat across the table from her.
“And I’m Gwen.” She walked over to the bar and checked out the whiskey on the shelf behind the bar. She sighed. “I haven’t had a drink in over three years; no reason to start again, now.” She walked over and sat beside Fiona.
“Pleased to meet all you ladies. I’ll get your vittles.”
Mr. Simms and the shotgun rider came in and sat at one of the other tables.
Lottie sat beside Ivy.
Maisie paced a little while before sitting on the benches that reminded her too much of the benches she’d sat on in the prison.
Mr. Jefferies served them all and since they hadn’t eaten all day, they attacked the food like it was a feast.
The bread was indeed fresh and very tasty as fresh butter was on the table to put on it. The beans, though they could have used some ham or pork, were well seasoned with salt, pepper and some kind of chili which gave it some heat. It was quite acceptable. With the bread and butter, the meal was very filling and Maisie, for one, was glad to have the food.
She’d grown used to the prison food, which she and these other ladies had cooked, but this was as good. In prison they’d also had some greens or potatoes or whatever else was ripe in the garden the women tended.
“Hey, Sam. This is not your regular fare. This food is actually good,” said Mr. Simms. “What happened?”
Sam hooked his thumbs through his suspenders and rocked back and forth on his heels while smiling wide. “I went and got myself married. Maria, come on out here and meet these folks.”
A pretty Mexican woman came from the curtained-off room.
“Ladies, this here is my wife, Maria. We been married for a whole two weeks.”
“Congratulations on your marriage.” Maisie turned toward the dark-eyed beauty. “I assume we have you to thank for this fine meal."
“Yes, ma’am.” The woman looked down but gave a shy smile. “Sam here rescued me from a band of thieves and murderers. He is my hero.” She looked up at Mr. Jefferies.
