AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (77 page)

The three of them watched as the stagecoach clattered along the dusty street drawn by four horses. They approached it as it drew to a halt. Two men and a woman climbed down, but Charlie paid them no mind. After a moment another woman exited the coach.

“Sarah!” Charlie exclaimed, waving to her.

“Charles,” she replied with a timid smile. She looked exactly like her photograph, though perhaps a bit more disheveled from her travels.

Just as Charlie had said they would, the pair went straight to the justice of the piece. And just like that, Jacob watched his friend marry a woman he had not laid eyes on until that very afternoon.

But later, as he lay in bed alone and listened to the silence, it didn’t seem like nearly so crazy an idea.

Chapter 3

Cassandra stared absently at the wallpaper, letting her eyes idly pick out patterns and shapes in its design. She had given up, for the moment, trying to conjure a solution to her problem. She had already established that she couldn’t possibly consider staying with Hannah, but she was at her wits’ end as for what to do about it. She still had told no one about the baby.

Her breakfast that morning had stayed down, so that was something, she supposed. She unbraided her hair and let it fall loose against her back. After a moment she stood and retrieved the brush and began to brush and re-braid her hair.

There was a brief knock at the door, and Hannah came in with a newspaper under her arm.

“It’s good to see you up,” she said to Cassandra with a smile. Cassandra offered her a weak smile in return.

“I thought you might like something to read,” she said, offering Cassandra the newspaper.

“Thank you,” Cassandra said, accepting the paper and setting it down.

“I’m going out for a bit. Do you need anything?”

Yes, a man to marry me and help raise my child,
Cassandra thought drily.
And quickly, please. Time is of the essence, you know!

“No, nothing,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a little while,” Hannah said. She let herself out and shut the door behind her.

Cassandra sighed and picked up the newspaper. She made her way over to the window and drew aside the heavy curtain to allow enough light in to read by. None of the articles particularly interested her, but she skimmed through the stories anyway. It was better than staring at the walls and worrying over what to do.

She stopped reading when she reached the personal ads and was about to set the paper down when an advertisement caught her eye.

MATRIMONY –
Young widower, reasonably wealthy and intelligent, seeks to make the acquaintance of a young woman, of reasonable intelligence and adaptable, with an eye to matrimony. Must love music. Address Jacob Daughtry, You Bet postal office, You Bet, California.

Cassandra stared at the ad. She had not considered becoming a mail order bride. She wasn’t entirely sure she was considering it now. It was an insane plan. At the mere thought of it she felt a surge of simultaneous horror and an almost electric feeling that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was the first thing she had felt in weeks that wasn’t abject despair.

She read over the ad again. What could it hurt to just write him a simple letter? It’s not like just by doing that she would be committed. She would write him a letter, and if she changed her mind, no harm done.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she sat down at the writing desk and got out paper, ink, and a pen.

I’m really going to do this
, she thought with disbelief. She dipped her pen into the ink and began to write.

Dear Mr. Daughtry,--

She stopped writing. It felt like a betrayal to Jonathon, writing to another man like this. She told herself that she was being absurd, but it didn’t make her feel any differently. She almost put the letter away. But then she set her jaw and continued writing. If this was what it took to provide for her and Jonathon’s baby, then so be it.

Dear Mr. Daughtry,

My name is Cassandra Whitmore. I saw your personal advertisement in the newspaper here in New Orleans. I am 23 years of age, educated, and am possessed of a fierce love for music.

She paused for a moment. How could she tell him she was pregnant? What man would want her knowing she was already with child? She stared down at her letter for a long moment before continuing.

I would be generally pleased to make your acquaintance and arrange for a marriage.

Regards,

C. Whitmore

It felt odd signing Jonathon’s last name on a letter to another man. Again, she felt that hovering sense of betrayal. She shook it off and put the letter in an envelope. After a moment’s thought she decided to include a tintype image of herself. The only one she had was the one that Jonathon used to carry.
For the baby,
she reminded herself.

She slipped the picture into the envelope with her letter, sealed it, and addressed it. She decided to bring it to the post office right away. She was afraid she would lose her nerve if she didn’t.

Hannah was just returning as Cassandra was leaving and they met just outside the front door. Hannah beamed when she saw Cassandra.

“I…I was just going…um,” she stammered. She realized that she wasn’t entirely certain that she meant to tell her family what she intended to do.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hannah said with a smile. “I’m just glad to see you out and about.” She gave Cassandra a brief hug. “Hurry back for supper.”

Cassandra gave her a small smile and nodded. She waited until her cousin was back in the house to continue on her way to the post office. She paused outside of it and looked down at the letter in her hand.

I could still change my mind,
she thought. But, she realized, she really couldn’t. She was completely out of options. All of her hopes were riding on this one letter to some stranger in California.

She stepped inside, paid for postage, and mailed the letter.

It was done.

*****

Jacob made his way into town and headed for the post office, Moses plodding at his side. Half of him didn’t put much stock in the mail order bride business. The other half hoped that he had gotten a response.

“Got anything for me, Ansel?” he asked. He half expected the man to say no. It had been a few weeks since the ad should have appeared in the paper and he had yet to receive a letter. But Ansel surprised him.

“Matter of fact, I believe I do, hoss,” Ansel. “Just a moment here….ah, there it is!”

He handed Jacob a sealed envelope with a New Orleans postmark.

“Much obliged,” Jacob said with a nod. He put the letter in his pocket and headed to the general store with Moses. He tethered him outside and stepped inside the general store.

“Afternoon,” Sam greeted him.

“Afternoon,” Jacob replied with a nod.

Sam turned his attention back to his newspaper as Jacob gathered the things that he needed. He set them on the counter when he was done and Sam began to tally them up.

“You got any good tobacco and rollin’ papers?” Jacob asked.

“Son, you know I got the best in town,” Sam replied.

“That you do,” Jacob said with a laugh. It was a sort of running joke. Sam’s store was the
only
place in town to get tobacco.

He paid for his goods, loaded Moses down, and headed over to the saloon. As he had expected, Garrett and Charlie were in their usual place in the back corner. He ordered a beer and joined them.

“Howdy,” he said as he sat down and started rolling a cigarette.

“Howdy,” Garrett replied.

“You just caught me,” Charlie said. “I was about to head on home to Sarah, soon as I finish this beer.”

“How are things with Sarah?” Jacob asked. He supposed it was a little forward to be asking another man about his personal life, but he was genuinely curious. Charlie didn’t seem to mind the question.

“Things are great,” he said. “Sarah’s quite a woman.”

“That’s good,” Jacob said. “I’m happy for you.” He struck a match and lit his cigarette.

“Say, what ya got there?” Charlie asked, indicating the letter that protruded from Jacob’s pocket.

“Oh,” Jacob said, pulling the letter out. He turned it over in his hands examining it. “I put an ad in the paper.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, suddenly much more interested. “In the personals? Like I done?”

“Oh, did you now?” Garrett asked.

“Yeah,” Jacob replied.

“Well, what’s she like?” Charlie asked.

“Don’t know,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “This is the first letter I’ve gotten.”

“Well, aren’t ya gonna open it?”

Jacob shrugged and took out his knife, slitting the top of the envelope open. He pulled out a short letter.

“Well, she appears to be a woman of few words,” he said with a laugh when he saw how short the letter was. His eyebrows raised as he read it. “Well…she certainly is frank.”

“How do you mean?” Charlie asked. Jacob handed the letter over to Charlie who proceeded to read it out loud.

“‘
Dear Mr. Daughtry,

My name is Cassandra Whitmore. I saw your personal advertisement in the newspaper here in New Orleans. I am 23 years of age, educated, and am possessed of a fierce love for music.
I would be generally pleased to make your acquaintance and arrange for a marriage.

Regards,

C. Whitmore.’
Wow,
”
he said, looking up from the letter. “She certainly
is
a woman of few words.”

Jacob pulled a tintype out of the envelope. The woman in the photograph had pale hair and delicate features. Something about her struck him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“You could certainly do worse,” Charlie said, looking over Jacob’s shoulder.

“I suppose I certainly could,” he replied absently.

Later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts revolved around the girl from New Orleans. Cassandra Whitmore. He knew little to nothing about her. He had expected some sort of long distance courtship, something like what Charlie and Sarah had done. Her quickness to agree to marriage had taken him off guard.

What the hell, he decided. Why not? He would arrange for her to come and see what happened.

Chapter 4

Cassandra made her way to the post office, as she had done every Tuesday for the past few weeks. She knew it was a little early to expect a letter, if he decided to send her one at all. But her belly was growing all the time. Already she had had to let out her dresses to allow more room for the baby. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her pregnancy a secret.

It came as a surprise that there was, in fact, a letter waiting for her from You Bet, California. She held it her hands for a long moment before tucking it away and heading for home. Anticipation and dread warred for the upper hand.

When she reached her cousin’s house she went directly to the guest bedroom. In truth, Hannah no longer considered it a guest bedroom. To her, it was Cassandra’s room now. But Cassandra was determined not to get too attached to a place that she had already decided she must leave.

She sat down at the writing desk and took out the letter. She set it down on the desk and stared down at it, steeling herself to open it. After a long moment, she took a deep breath, took up the letter and the letter opener, and slit it open.

The envelope contained three things. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled out the first. It was a train ticket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fumbled the letter itself out of the envelope. Enfolded in it was a small amount of money.

Dear Miss Whitmore,

I would be pleased for you to join me in California. Enclosed you will find a train ticket and enough money for passage on the stagecoach to You Bet. I look forward to making your acquaintance.

Sincerely

J Daughtry

Cassandra’s hands trembled as she drew a tintype photograph of a man from the envelope. He had dark hair and sad, intelligent eyes.

She tucked the letter, photograph, train ticket, and cash back into the envelope and went to find Hannah. She couldn’t, she decided, leave without an explanation. She found her in the sitting room.

“Hannah,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Can I speak with you?”

“Of course,” Hannah said, setting her knitting aside. Concern painted her features as she got a look at Cassandra’s face. “Are you alright?”

Cassandra nodded. She took a deep breath before she spoke.

“Hannah, I…I’ve made a decision.”

“Yes?”

Unable to find the words that she wanted, Cassandra took out the letter and handed it to Hannah. Hannah’s eyebrows climbed in surprise as she read the brief missive.

“I see,” she said after a long moment. “Who exactly is he?”

“I answered his ad in the newspaper,” Cassandra told her.

“Oh,” Hannah said. She fell silent for a moment, thinking. “And he knows about…?”

She indicated Cassandra’s belly. Cassandra blinked in surprise.

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” she said with a small smile. “No case of the nerves I ever heard of lasted
this
long. Not to mention you’ve been letting out all your dresses. And besides, you’ve got that glow.”

Cassandra looked down and said nothing. After a long moment Hannah spoke again.

“I won’t try and talk you out of it,” she said. “If this is your decision then I’ll stand behind you.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra said, tears filling her eyes.

The next few days went by in a blur of preparation. She sold most of what she owned, including the dress from her and Jonathon’s night at the opera. It pained her to see it go, but she needed the money for her travels.