Mail Order Bride: Bitter & Pregnant, An English Widow Heads Off to Her Cowboy Rancher In California (A Clean & Wholesome Historical Romance) (4 page)

"Sure," said Jack. "Hey, Horace, do you need
to do something special for your boss?"

"Yes," said Horace, carefully. "He needs
something."

"A special code," said Francine.

"Yes, a special code," said Horace. "Only the
three of us know a part, so we all have to go, actually."

"All right," said Jack, and he pulled up to a
house. "You lot go to sleep. I'll be back in the morning to take
you into town."

"We can manage," said Jeanne.

"I said I'll take you," said Jack. "Shut up
and listen."

He dropped them off and rode off towards the
desert.

Horace said, "I wonder where he's going?"

"As do I," said Jeanne. "As do I."

Joseph was lying on his side. He had spent
the past few days rubbing his bonds on things in the hope that he
could saw through them. Whoever had trapped them was thorough and
had completely neglected to leave anything sharp or breakable in
the room. Furthermore, Joe and Henry were getting more hungry and
thirsty by the day and there was a real chance that they'd
dehydrate or starve if no one came to save them. Suddenly, they
heard a door open and the heavy footfalls of a man. Their door
opened slightly and four dishes were shoved into the room. Two had
water and two had some sort of gruel.

Joseph asked, "How do you expect us to eat
this without our hands?"

Their captor said, "Woof woof." It was oddly
familiar.

"Better than starving to death, I reckon,"
said Joseph and he eased himself over to a dish, Henry did the
same, and they ate and drank. While they might not die of
starvation or dehydration, Joseph was sure he'd surely die of shame
if anyone caught them doing this.

Jeanne was still asleep when the door was
thrown open. Jack was standing in the doorway, filled with a deep
anger.

"Time to wake up, Miss Priss," said Jack, and
he slammed the door. Jeanne got dressed, muttering all the while
about how much she disliked this man and met with her friends in
the kitchen. Jack was also there and as Francine went to the pantry
to cook them breakfast, Jack blocked her path. "What do you think
you're doing? We've got an errand to run."

"Not on an empty stomach," said Francine.
"Especially now, Jeanne. She's with child. Remember?"

Jack's face reddened with rage and Jeanne was
sure something was going to pop, but he regained what little
composure he had. "I'll get you people breakfast in town. A real
American breakfast. You're French or something, right?
Spanish?"

"English," corrected Horace. "Rough and
tumble Londoners. I grew up on the mean streets, so to say. Don’t
cross me, boyo!"

"Let's just get going your highness," said
Jack, and he left.

Francine mused, "Your highness? Is that the
best he can do?"

They were on the wagon once again, pulled by
the same old nag, and they rode to town. The land was actually
quite beautiful in the morning, and Jeanne was rather happy she had
come to this part of America. She wasn't happy that her suitor had
either entirely misrepresented himself or completely vanished, but
she would solve that problem later. They rode right to the
telegraph office and Jack led the trio into the office.

"Get to it," he said. "'Cause I'm so excited,
see?"

"I bet you are," muttered Horace, and he went
to the desk and said, "I need to send one overseas telegraph, name
of Thackery in London. He'll be paying the charges, just tell him
it's from Horace Johnson."

"Very good," said the man. "What do you need
to say?"

"Just tell him we're in California safely and
we need to request some funds for the nuptials," said Horace, and
Francine elbowed him. He looked at her, confused and then realized
what needed to be done. "Also, let him know that the lion's
den..."

"...is filled..." continued Francine.

"...with Daniels," ended Jeanne. It was a
bunch of nonsense, but Jack had been promised a code and a code had
been produced.

Jack asked, "We all set, then?"

"Indeed," said Horace.

"Get back on the wagon," said Jack.

"I thought you said we were having
breakfast," complained Horace.

"It's somewhere else," said Jack.

The three of them, rather reluctantly, got on
the wagon. This time, instead of sticking to anything that looked
like any sort of path, he drove right into the desert. He stopped
and grabbed Jeanne and pushed her down onto the ground. When
Francine jumped off the wagon to help her, Jack tripped her and she
landed flat on her face.

Before Horace could do anything, Jack hopped
back into the wagon and punched him out. Seconds later, he was
riding away, leaving Jeanne and Francine to die in the desert.

Joseph was quickly losing hope. He was still
bound and the food and drink were gone. Henry had gone silent and
spent most of his time lying in a corner and softly sobbing.
Occasionally, he would ask about his horse, but Joseph had no
answers for him. When he heard the door open, he started yelling,
but it was to no avail. Their captor was completely ignoring him
and when the door opened a man was shoved inside, his hands and
feet similarly bound.

"I hate America," he said.

"You're British," said Joseph. "You wouldn't
happen to be with Jeanne Harrow, would you?"

"It depends on who's asking," said the man
warily.

"My name is Joseph Clauson and I'm a
prisoner."

"That makes sense," said the man. "The other
Joseph Clauson wanted to be called Jack."

"Jack,” spat Henry from he corner. He rolled
over a little. "How's my horse? How is Matilda?"

The man stared blankly at Henry and then to
Joseph. Joseph got his meaning. "Matilda is the horse. An old nag,
still healthy enough but not as healthy as Henry would like. You're
Horace, aren't you? The man who sent the telegraphs?"

"I am," said Horace. "We need to get out of
here. He left my wife and Jeanne out in the desert to die."

"He left Jeanne?" Joseph was furious. "He
left a pregnant woman in the desert to die?"

"And my wife," added Horace.

"Jack will answer for all of this," said
Joseph.

"He will," said Horace. "Do you have any
ideas? Oh, by the way? Your horse is being mistreated."

"I hated Jack before, but now I hate him even
more," said Henry and despite the sentiment, Joseph was glad to see
him being fairly functional and not despairing.

"We'll see justice done," said Joseph. "First
thing we need to do is figure out how to get out of here and then
we can find a way to run him out of town or arrest him."

"Good," said Horace. "I just met the guy and
I'd rather just meet him once to tell him to shove off. Let's start
planning."

Jeanne was absolutely furious, at both Jack
and herself. She had known the man was dangerous, why did she let
him drive her into the desert? This had all been a presumably
well-laid plan that involved getting Thackery's money and then
ditching the evidence. The only real boon they currently had was
that they weren't dead. Francine was bleeding from her nose but
seemed otherwise undamaged and Jeanne had fallen in such a way that
kept her child safe.

She was lying on the ground and she rolled
over a little and saw two sets of wheel-tracks going through the
desert, with hoof-prints between them. Jack wasn't nearly as smart
as he thought he was. Jeanne stood up, helped Francine stand up,
and then Francine started prodding Jeanne's stomach.

"I think your child is all right," said
Francine, slightly nasally. She poked her own nose and sighed. "Not
broken. Good, good. What are we going to do? Should we go and find
someone to help us?"

"Bugger that," swore Jeanne. "There's no way
I'm letting that man make a fool out of me and then letting someone
else take care of it for me. He's one man. We can deal with him and
his machinations."

"Yes! Very true," said Francine. "Do you
think Horace is all right?"

"I'm sure Horace is fine," said Jeanne,
though she secretly thought that Jack might have done something
violent to him. "We'll find him at the end of these tracks."

Francine asked again, "Are you sure you want
to do this, in your state?"

"I told you, that's not happening," said
Jeanne. "Better that the child learns now that his mother doesn't
mess about with people like Jack. He'll never see us coming,
hopefully. Come on, then, let's save your husband. Mine, too, most
likely."

The pair started following the tracks.

Joseph had devised a cunning plan with Horace
and Henry, one that would have been impossible with two people.
They were going to lure Jack into the cell and then Henry would
trip him while Horace and Joseph tackled him. From there, they'd
lock the cell and make their escape. It was a perfect plan, though
it was one that relied on Jack feeding them before they got too
weak. This was a big variable and Joseph wasn't sure it would play
out exactly as they wanted.

"I'm worried about my wife," said Horace.

"I'm worried about my horse," said Henry.

"I'm worried about Jeanne," said Joseph.
"That's why we have to get out of here, so we can save them all and
make sure Jack goes to jail for what he's done. To think I spent
all those years trusting him. Did you know I was thinking of
promoting him? He probably would have stabbed me in the back as
soon as he was able, maybe literally!"

"I think I hear someone coming," said Horace
with a whisper. The three men were silent, but the footsteps went
by the cell without stopping. Whoever was out there had no interest
in them. It was almost disheartening.

Joseph groaned, "What could he want with
us?"

"Probably all the money you keep getting
sent," said Henry. "I know if I was a bad man I would have kept a
lot of it. I'm not, though, -- I'm a good man."

"Heh, I was supposed to act like a thug to
get in Jack's good graces," said Horace. "Fat lot of good that did.
I wish Mister Harrow were here. He'd know what to do."

"Oh. Jeanne's husband," said Joseph, feeling
as if he got smacked. "What was he like?"

"He was a good man, too," said Horace. "He
saved my life, you know. Kept me from drowning."

"I can't measure up to that," said Joseph. "I
have my own ranch but I've never done anything that heroic."

"Now's your chance, Mister Clauson," said
Henry. "You can help get us free and then go show that Jack who's
boss!"

"You're right," said Joseph, feeling
determined. "You're absolutely right! We'll get out of here and get
Jack to prison and find Jeanne and Horace's wife, too!"

"Francine," supplied Horace.

Joseph repeated, "Francine! All we have to do
is wait for him to feed us, because I don't think he'd care too
much if one of us faked being sick. One of you is welcome to try,
though."

"I've got it," said Horace and he began to
wail about how he felt as if his stomach was attempting to escape
through his mouth and his brain attempting to leak out of his ears.
Despite Joseph's assumptions, Jack did care.

"Shut up in there," he shouted and Horace did
so dejectedly.

"It was worth a shot," said Henry.

"Thank you," sad Horace. "What do we do
now?"

"I guess all we can really do is wait," said
Joseph.

Jeanne and Francine had been following the
tracks for the better part of the day and they were starting to
give up hope when they saw the wagon sitting in front of a
walled-in cave. The old horse was still hitched to it, looking
terrible and Jeanne added it to the list of evil things that this
Jack had done. There was no way he wasn't going to pay for what he
did.

The only problem was that Jack, quite
obviously, physically outmatched them. They needed to rely on their
brains in order to get Jack out of there and to somewhere justice
could be done. Jeanne tried to recall something that could help.
Before she had become Jeanne Harrow, she had been Jeanne Dockens,
an actress for a moderately successful theater troupe.

While she had mostly left that life behind,
the lessons learned from weeks on the road with a minimum of
supplies and a need for the maximum of theatrics came back to her.
She looked at the sand and thought that, perhaps, she could do
something with it. She just needed some sort of moisture and
Francine's nose had stopped bleeding hours ago.

Jeanne asked her, "You don't have any water,
by any chance?"

"I don't," said Francine. "Though I recall
that a penny dreadful said that there was water in desert
plants."

"All right. That might work," said Jeanne and
she found a cactus and broke it open. It juices fell on the ground
and Jeanne mixed the juice with the sand. "We used to do this in my
theater troop. A bit of water and dirt would make a paste that
could pass for blood, at least to the uneducated."

"I never knew you were in the theater," said
Francine.

"I've tried to put that life behind me,"
replied Jeanne. "It taught me to be a lot of things I didn't want
to be and I refuse to be that kind of person anymore."

"You don't seem to be too bad," said Francine
diplomatically.

"Do you remember me when we left? I was an
absolute pill," said Jeanne bitterly. "I was a terrible person,
cowardly and rude. That's what being the theater taught me, or at
least, that's what I took away from it. I should have been reminded
that I can be whatever I want to be and I have the wits to do
it.

“I'm going to take this and smear it all over
my face and clothes. It's not a lot but I don't need a lot. What
you're going to do is run up to that door and pound on it madly.
When Jack answers, tell him that a ghoul is chasing you. Once he's
out and trying to find out what's going on, I'll wander over while
moaning. I need you to sneak in there and find a weapon."