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Authors: Susan Leigh Carlton

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BOOK: Yankee Mail Order Bride
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Chapter 3:  The Diablo Ranch, Cheyenne, Wyoming

It had been nine months since Caroline had passed away. The inhabitants of the Diablo Ranch were still having trouble coping with the loss of their loved one. Josiah lost himself in work. He was up and out of the house before daylight. He was working harder and longer than any of the cowboys working for him. He became a perfectionist. Nothing was good enough for him, unless he did it himself and even then he redid it several times.

 

Josiah’s temper was always close to the boiling point. On more than one occasion, he came very close to getting into fistfights with the cowboys. After one particularly vicious run-in with one of his hands, the foreman, Jud Pierce took him aside. “Josie, you know I love you like a son. I’ve worked here longer than you’ve been alive. I have to tell you, your behavior has to change. We’ve lost some good men because of the way you’ve been treating them.”

 

“Yeah, if they did things right, there wouldn’t be any problems. I won’t put up with half-ass, shoddy work,” Josiah said.

 

“There was nothing wrong with the way Cade did the fence mending, I would have done it the same way myself,” Jud said.

 

“And if you had, I’d have been on your ass too,” Josiah said.

 

“That’s another thing, the men, and I do also, find your language offensive. You were never this way before, Josiah. Never.”

 

“Before what, Jud? Spit it out,” said Josiah.

 

“Before Miss Caroline passed. Josiah, we all loved and respected her and we miss her. You need to get hold of yourself. The ranch needs you,” Jud replied.

 

“Are you through? If I want to hear preaching, I’ll go to church,” said Josiah.

 

“Maybe you should. It might do you some good,” Jud said, and turned to walk away.

 

“Come back, here. I’m not finished with you,” yelled Josiah.

 

Jud continued walking. Josiah grabbed his arm and took a wild swing, his fist catching Jud in the jaw, knocking him to the ground, He sat there in the dirt, gingerly rubbing his jaw, wiping away the trickle of blood. He stood, looked at Josiah with steely gray eyes. “No man hits me and gets away with it. Because I worked for your Paw for so long and have known you all of your life, I’ll give you that one. But you hear this,” he said, in a voice as cold as any day in the dead of winter, “you ever hit me again, I’ll kill you, Josiah.” He started to turn, and said, “I’ve got to get back to work, that is, if I’m still your foreman.”

 

Josiah didn’t speak, which was probably the wisest thing he could have done. Instead, he went into the house, got some money from the safe, and said, “Beulah, I’m going to Cheyenne.”

 

“What about Rebecca?”

 

“What about her? You take care of her. It’s your job,” he said.

 

“Josiah Benjamin Moore.” The iron hard tone in her voice caused him to pause. “Your Maw would be mortified at your behavior, and Miss Caroline? I don’t know what she’d do. You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re treating everybody like they was dirt. Did Mr Jud tell you two hands quit because of you and he talked two other men out of quitting.”

 

“And here you are, boy, walking off without a goodbye to your precious daughter. You lost a wife, but she lost her mother and looks about to lose her Pa too. They would be ashamed of you, Josiah. I am. I’ve half a mind to take a hickory switch to you. Yank your britches down and give you what for. Wouldn’t be the first time, neither.” Beulah wound down.

 

Wordless, Josiah went down the hall to his daughter’s bedroom. She was asleep. He kissed her on the cheek and left the room. Back down to the kitchen, with head bowed, he said, “She was asleep.”

 

“You could have woken her,” Beaulah said.

 

“I didn’t want to bother her. I’m going into Cheyenne.” He left the kitchen, and before long, Beaulah heard the diminishing sound of hoofbeats as he left the corral and headed for Cheyenne, about ten miles away.

 

In town, he headed straight to the Cheyenne Saloon, found a table in a corner, and laid his hat on it to protect his claim. He went to the bar and asked for whiskey and paid for a full bottle. He returned to his table and began trying to work out his problems through the contents of the bottle. About half way through the bottle, one of the fancy girls that worked the saloon came over.

 

“Cowboy, you look lonely. Mind if I sit down?” she asked. When Josiah didn’t say anything, she sat on one of the empty chairs. “My name’s Rose. Why don’t you buy me a drink and we can talk about your problems.”

 

“I don’t want to talk. If you’re going to sit there, then be quiet. Help yourself if you want a drink, but leave me alone,” he said.

 

“Would you like to go upstairs where we can have some privacy?” she asked.

 

“No, I don’t want to go upstairs. Just go away and leave me alone,” he shouted.

 

A tall cowboy sitting at another table, stood and walked over to Josiah’s table. “Is he bothering you, Rose?”

 

“No, he isn’t bothering me, he’s just rude is all.”

 

“You want to apologize to Rose, Mister?” asked the tall cowboy.

 

“I don’t want to apologize. I haven’t done anything, I just want to be left alone and have a drink in peace,” Josiah replied.

 

“It seems to me you need to be taught some manners,” the cowboy said. “Rose here, is just trying to make a living.”

 

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. Miss, I’m sorry if I offended you, now could you just leave me alone?” Josiah said.

 

“I think your problem is a yellow streak down your back,” the cowboy sneered

 

“All right. That’s enough. You got no call to talk to me that way,” Josiah said.

 

The cowboy shoved Josiah back against the table. Josiah came up swinging. The cowboy easily dodged the swings, and stepped inside the last one and in rapid fire fashion, hit Josiah in the face. The first punch broke his nose, the second punch would result in a black eye and the third knocked Josiah cold. He fell like a big rag doll, blood gushing from his broken nose.

 

Rose was dismayed at the ruckus. She was new to the job and was afraid a fight would get her fired. She hurried to the bar and got a rag from the barkeep and came back to the table. She knelt beside Josiah and held the cloth to his nose and tilted his head back as he slowly cleared the cobwebs from his head. He tried to sit up, but Rose stopped him. “I was raised with four older brothers and I’ve seen a lot of bloody noses. This is the way Ma always treated them”

 

“What’s your name, stranger?” she asked.

 

‘Josiah,” came the muffled voice through the cloth being held to his face.

 

“Well, Josiah, you had better get over to the doc’s. Your nose looks like it has been moved sideways. I reckon it’s broke. Come on, I’ll help you get to the doc’s.”

 

“Don’t need no help,” mumbled Josiah. He stood and wobbled to the door, pausing long enough to look at his reflection in the glass window of the saloon. “She’s right, I’d better go see the doc,” he thought. On two unsteady legs, he staggered down the street, then holding on to the rail, he climbed the stairs to Doc Williams’ office.

 

Having been the Taylor’s family doctor since his arrival in Cheyenne ten years before, Doc Williams knew Josiah well. “What in the world happened to you,” he asked when Josiah walked into his office.

 

“I hit a cowboy in the fist with my nose,” Josiah said ruefully.

 

“I guess demon rum caused your mouth to run faster than your brain.”

 

“Come on, Doc. It hurts to smile. Just patch me up so I can go home.”

 

“Beulah is going to have your hide when she sees you,” the good doctor said.

 

“She got me before I left. Everyone is on my case these days. Even Jud,” said Josiah.

 

“I have no other patients. You want to talk about it?” asked the doctor.

 

“Doc, since Caroline’s death, I haven’t been able to think straight. Everything makes me mad. Really mad.”

 

“Is that what happened here?” the doctor asked.

 

“Actually, it isn’t. I just wanted to be left alone. The cowboy wouldn’t let go. I guess he was trying to impress his friends and Rose. He crossed the line when he called me a coward and I took a swing at him. That’s when this happened,” said Josiah.

 

“Lately, I’ve been taking it out on those closest to me. I even took a swing at Jud and then the run in with Beulah, two people I’ve longer than anyone else. Poor Rebecca is getting nothing from me.”

 

“Why are you so angry?” asked the doctor.

 

“It just wasn’t fair for Caroline to be taken so soon. I needed her, still do. So does Rebecca,” Josiah said in a rush.

 

“So you think Caroline let you down by dying?” the doctor asked softly. “Josiah, life is not fair. You are born, you live and you die. Caroline’s time just happened sooner than anyone expected. It wasn’t her fault. It also wasn’t your fault, She’s gone. You have to deal with it. She left you with a piece of herself. Rebecca. You have to cherish that thought, and you have to take extra good care of the legacy she left in your care. That little girl lost the central figure in her life. Don’t take away the last part of her family. You have to be the voice that reminds her of the mother she had. It won’t be easy. That’s another thing life is not. Easy. Now, the big question is, are you man enough to face up to the enormous responsibility of being a father? If not, I know Caroline would be disappointed in you.”

 

“You’re right, Doc. I need to get home to my little girl,” said Josiah.

 

“First, let me fix your nose,” the doctor said. “This is going to be painful. I’m going to have to pack it with gauze. I’ll need to see you in three days, to check it and to remove the gauze, Don’t try to do this yourself. You can undo anything I have done. If you can put something cold on it every two or three hours, it will help keep the swelling down, but you are going to look like a raccoon for several days. Any questions?”

 

“I guess not. Thanks Doc, for the talk and for caring.”

 

“I’m going to give you some laudanum for the pain, but go easy on it.”

 

“Okay, Doc.” He walked back to the hitching post in front of the saloon and retrieved his horse and started the painful ride home and where he could begin making amends to those who loved him.

Chapter 4:  Anna Has A Caller

 

Anna’s eyes blinked open. The darkness of her room hinted at the dreariness outside. It was  Wednesday. The day Anna had dreaded more than any day in her young life. Today was the day the man picked by her father to be her husband was to come calling. He would be here for dinner at seven. Her father had ordered the kitchen staff to prepare the finest of meals.

 

She burrowed her head beneath the covers as if she could hide before the ordeal came to pass. She lay there, past the breakfast call. Concerned, her mother came into her room and saw the outline of the form beneath the covers and engulfed by the feather mattress. “Anna, you must get up. You shouldn’t remain in bed. It would seem you are lazy and I know that to be far from the truth,” her mother said.

 

Pushing the quilts back, Anna sat up, her long blond hair falling down her back. “You have a lot to do today, Anna, now brush your teeth and give your hair a good brushing. It is your best feature and you don’t want it to be dull. It’s time to get started.”

 

“Why is it time? Soon enough it will be time for that old Mr Throckmorton to come. Mother, I’ve asked around. He has children older than I am. I am not going to marry him. I would die first. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but Father has no right to give me away as if I was some piece of chattel.”

 

“I agree with you, Anna, but you must meet with him. You mustn’t let your true feelings come out. It would only serve to irritate your father. Heaven knows, he is irritable enough as it is. Have you given any thought about what you will do?”

 

“Yes, I have. A Mrs Barnhurst is holding a meeting today in the Town Hall. It seems there is a dire shortage of brides for the men in Wyoming and it also seems there is an abundance of unmarried women here in Massachusetts. Mrs Barnhurst is recruiting young women to travel to Wyoming and become the brides of these ranchers and miners. Mother, I am going to the meeting,” Anna said with a strong resolve.

 

“Wyoming? Why that is clear across the country. However would you get there?”

 

“The paper said the transportation would be paid. They have railroad service by Union Pacific,” said Anna.

 

“Anna, you have been brought up in one of the nicest homes in all of Plymouth County. You could continue that life with Mr Throckmorton. You have no idea what fate awaits you in Wyoming. I just wish you would put this foolishness from your head and accept what your father is trying to do for you.”

 

“For me? He isn’t trying to do this for me. He’s trying to further his empire. I can’t believe you’re talking this way, Mother. I thought you were on my side.”

 

“I only want what’s best for you, dear. If you were to go to Wyoming, I would likely never see you again. I couldn’t bear that. I can tolerate your father as long as I have you,” her mother said.

 

“Well, if Father has his way, you still wouldn’t have me,” replied a teary Anna.

 

“Yes, true, you wouldn’t be here, but you wouldn’t be more than three or four miles away,” her mother said.

 

Later that same day…

 

Anna had stayed after the meeting in order to speak with Mrs Barnhurst and finally it was her turn. “I have some urgency in my situation,” she began. “My father is trying to arrange a marriage for me with an older man for financial reasons. The man is as old as my father. I want no part of it, I would like to remove myself from his control. Can you help me?”

 

“How old are you, my dear?” asked Mrs Barnhurst.

 

“I am nineteen,” answered Anna.

 

“How is it you were not betrothed already?” Mrs Barnhurst asked.

 

“There are not very many young single men in Plymouth,” said Anna.

 

“Judging from your attire, you are from a family of above average means, am I correct?” Mrs Barnhurst asked.

 

“Well, yes ma’am. I guess I am, however, that doesn’t lessen the impact of my situation. If anything, it makes it worse,” Anna said.

 

“I’m sorry, dear, I think you misunderstood. Life on the frontier is harsh and is especially difficult for a woman. It would be even more so for someone from your background.”

 

“Mrs Barnhurst, I am desperate. I will do anything to avoid the future my father has laid out for me,” Anna pleaded.

 

“I will see what I can do for you Miss Taylor. Please don’t hold out much hope. It takes time. Due to the distances involved, communications are slow. I will contact you after I make some inquiries. I am afraid that is the best I can do for you at this time,” Mrs Barnhurst said in a tone suggesting the meeting was over.

 

“Thank you for your time,” Anna said and left the building to begin the trudge home.

 

As she walked down the street, she passed the Plymouth office of the Boston Herald. She looked at the copies of the paper posted for the public on a board, by the door. A headline caught her eye. It read, “Brides Wanted”. Intrigued, she read the article, about men from Cheyenne who had placed ads in a paper called The Matrimonial News from St. Louis, Missouri in search of brides.. She went inside the building and purchased a copy of the paper to read later that evening. Her mood lightened as she walked home. There was a glimmer of hope, however faint. First, however, she had to endure the dinner with Mr Throckmorton.

 

“Margaret, would you convey to Anna she is to dress appropriately for dinner and to meet her fiance,” Caleb said to his wife.

 

“As you wish, I still think you are making a terrible mistake. I don’t know what she is going to do, but she will not go along with this sham,” said Margaret.

 

“You are wrong, my dear. She will realize it is in her best interest, and ensures her a life of comfort. She is my daughter after all, and is not stupid. She will see the wisdom behind it,” Caleb replied.

 

At the designated time, The stunningly beautiful. Anna came downstairs for dinner, dressed in a long blue dress that accentuated her blond hair and blue eyes. Her father made the introductions. “Anna, this is Horace Throckmorton, owner of Throckmorton Industries. He is joining us for dinner. Horace, this is our daughter, Anna.”

 

Before Anna stood a pudgy man with jowly cheeks. His thinning black hair was parted in the middle and was slicked down. He wore an ingratiating smile on his face, as if he was about to capture the grand prize. “I am pleased to meet you, my dear. You are a beautiful child. You do your parents proud.” He extended his hand, the back of which was covered with thick hair. Anna’s first thought was of a snake oil drummer. She did not shake his hand, looked at it pointedly and moved to her place at the table. She was dismayed to find Throckmorton was to be seated next to her at the table.

 

The meal was punctuated with conversation, all of which was boring and concerned for the most part an impending merger between Throckmorton and Taylor Enterprises. As the meal progressed, Anna was horrified to find a hand on her leg. She moved it aside and looked at Throckmorton. The hand found her leg again. Anna picked up a fork and slid her hand under the table. And stabbed the back of the hand. Hard. It quickly moved away. Anna looked at him and smiled sweetly, delighting her father. He believed she would see the light. For his part, Throckmorton wore a sickly smile.

 

After dinner, they adjourned to the parlor where Caleb produced a humidor and offered Throckmorton a cigar. Throckmorton clipped the end with a small knife he carried, lit the cigar and puffed a large cloud of smoke. Throckmorton sat there, head back and smiling importantly. Caleb stood and said, “Come Margaret, let’s leave these two to get acquainted.” Margaret smiled a wan smile and followed him as he left the room.

 

“Well, my dear, your father has proposed a marriage between us, which I find agreeable. I have to travel to Europe next week, and I would like to have the ceremonies immediately upon my  return, which should be six weeks hence. I will meet with your father and make all of the arrangements.”

 

“Mr Throckmorton, I am honored by your interest in me, but I have no intentions of marrying you. You are older than my father and have children older than I am. And, yes, the answer to your unasked question is, I did go to the library and read all I could find about you, your family and your business.” She turned and started to leave the room.

 

Throckmorton grabbed her arm, but she jerked it free. “You have spirit,” he said. “I like that.” He moved toward her, but moving quickly, she avoided his grasp. As he chased her, he fell over a piece of furniture. Anna seized this opportunity to flee the house. She ran aimlessly toward the center of Plymouth. She found herself in front of the Boston Herald Building. With nothing to lose, she entered the building. The lobby was empty except for a woman behind the desk.

 

“May I help you, miss?” she inquired.

 

“I saw your ad for brides on the board outside. I would like to place a similar ad,” Anna said.

 

“Of course. What type of ad?”

 

Anna scribbled hurriedly on a pad given her by the woman. Her proposed ad read: “Young Woman, 19 years old, blond hair, blue eyes, 5’ 7” tall desires employment as a nanny or housekeeper.” Do you have any suggestions?”

 

“I believe I do,’ the woman said. “Those ads were placed by a Mrs Barnhurst. She is in the building at this time. Would you like for me to see if she can see you?”

 

“I’ve spoken to her already, but if you would, please, I would appreciate it,” said Anna.

 

The woman returned, followed by Mrs Barnhurst. “Ah, Miss Taylor. I just posted a letter to you. I do have some things for you to consider. Would you like to see them?”

 

“Yes, please. My father had this man to dinner today and it was a horrible experience. He is proposing we be married in six weeks. He is a slimy, evil man. I would not marry him, even if it was my last chance,” Anna answered.

 

“Come with me,” Mrs Barnhurst said. “We can have some privacy over here.” She led the way to a small room that had a table and two chairs. Once seated, she handed Anna three letters. “I received these this week,” she said.

 

Anna read through the letters quickly, Two of them were from men in their mid to late thirties, an age considered by Anna to be old. As she read the third letter, Mrs Barnhurst said, “That letter touched me. It is full of sadness and desperation. I haven’t shown it to anyone else because of a feeling I have developed for this young man. I was a mail order bride myself and have experienced the joy of a happy marriage and the sorrow of an unexpected death of a spouse, similar to what this man presents. I had no children to worry about. As you can see, this young man has a two year old girl. His wife died of diphtheria.

 

“Would you be interested in responding to any of these letters?”

 

Anna reread the letter from the man with the young girl. “Yes, I would,” she said.

 

“Good. I’ll help you with your response,” Mrs Barnhurst said.

 

Together, they composed a letter that described Anna, her physical attributes, her education and her reasons for pursuing this path. “I apologize for this next question, but I must ask, are you being totally honest here? Some people describe themselves in a manner different from the real thing.”

 

“I am honest. My father is a wealthy man, we have a nice home. You can see my physical description for yourself. I have no other means, other than the small amount of money my mother has held back from her household allowance.” She continued, “I have a question for you. How are you paid?”

 

“That is an excellent question. My late husband left me well fixed for life. I have lived on the frontier and have seen the loneliness in these men’s lives. Simply put, I want to help, and have the means to do so. And, here I am. I’m staying with family while I am here, and have not made up my mind where I might settle. It may well be back to the frontier. It is a hard life, but the people are warm and friendly,” Mrs Barnhurst said.

 

“How long does it take to hear back on these?” Anna asked.

 

“This individual is on a ranch outside Cheyenne. The mail takes five or six days in each direction since there is train service the entire route, that means it would take close to two weeks both ways.”

 

“Oh, I was hoping it wouldn’t take that long. It doesn’t leave any margin for error with my father’s plan,” Anna said.

 

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