Mail Order Bride: Bitter & Pregnant, An English Widow Heads Off to Her Cowboy Rancher In California (A Clean & Wholesome Historical Romance) (3 page)

"Give me the mail," growled Jack and Joseph
was sure he used a slur against Henry.

"I was told to make sure Mister Clauson gets
this mail, not you," said Henry, ignoring the slur. "You just back
off. My daddy say you got up to some bad stuff in the war and I owe
you for that."

"My daddy owned your daddy," muttered Jack.
"I could do whatever I wanted to him and I'll do whatever I want to
you if you don't give me that envelope."

"No," said Henry. Joseph could hear the angry
quiver of his voice and he decided that it was time to make his
presence known.

"Hey there, fellas," said Joseph, with a
wave. "What brings you here, Henry? Here to check on Matilda?"

"I am," said Henry, not taking his eyes off
Jack. "I also have some mail for you."

"Let's have it then," said Joseph. "Jack,
there's some sheep that need shearing. Why don't you do that?"

"Sure thing, boss," said Jack and he walked
away, but Joseph kept a careful note to keep an eye on him. There
was the usual bit of mail. Bills from various feed suppliers and
some letters from other ranchers in the area. There was also an
envelope from the bank and Joseph expected it to be bad news. He
opened it with apprehension, but instead found a letter and a
check.

It was a check from the caretaker of the
woman coming to meet Joseph and it was for a hefty sum. The letter
simply asked Joseph to ensure that things were in order for her and
to make sure that he wrote to a man named Thackery when Jeanne
arrived. Joseph wondered why Jack wanted this envelope so badly. It
wasn't as if he could cash the check, after all.

Henry broke him out of his reprieve.
"Everything all right, Mister Clauson?"

"Oh yes," said Jack. "If I wasn't looking
forward to this Jeanne Harrow arriving before, I certainly am now.
Do you think I could send a message for her? The immigration office
could give it to her, maybe?"

Henry scoffed, "How the heck would I know?
Just do it."

"All right," said Joseph, and he did.

The last thing Jeanne wanted at this point
was to meet anyone and as she huddled in the corner of her cabin,
looking and feeling like a mess, Francine entered once again. There
was exuberance to her entrance that Jeanne currently couldn't
stand. If she wasn't happy, why should someone else be? Then
Francine, having learned that approaching Jeanne in this state was
like approaching an angry dog with a bone, stopped and said,
"Jeanne! They've spied land! We'll be in America soon! You should
come see. It's beautiful!"

"All right," grumbled Jeanne and after
Francine helped her stand up, the pair of them found a pair of
chairs to watch America come ever closer. Horace also pulled up a
chair and Jeanne couldn't help but notice that his hand sought and
easily found Francine's. She regretted being stuck in her cabin for
the duration of the trip, but it was better than vomiting over the
edge every half hour.

America was still far in the distance, though
Jeanne fancied that she could almost make out the famous New York
skyline on the horizon. That was the plan after all, and Jeanne
sincerely hoped that she would be able to ditch Horace and Francine
in New York. She doubted she'd actually be able to, of course, but
there was a chance. Then she could head west in peace.

The trip from that point was oddly smooth and
as they approached the dock where the three immigrants would be
processed, Jeanne felt the baby kick. It hit her that there was
something alive inside of her and that it needed to be taken care
of and what was she doing here? She should have stayed in London
where it was safe. She was still fretting when the three of them
were escorted through the immigration office.

Horace and Francine were giggling and they
went ahead of Jeanne.

"Name," said the immigration officer, a solid
man with a sour look.

"Horace Johnson," said Horace.

"Immigrating from?"

"London. Here to escort Missus Jeanne Harrow
to California. Here are my papers, as well as the papers for these
two ladies."

The immigration officer stamped another paper
and Horace was shepherded through. He grinned, as it was Francine's
turn.

"Name," said the officer.

"Francine Johnson," said Francine and Jeanne
was instantly intrigued.

"Paper says Francine O'Reilly," said the
officer, more annoyed than anything else.

"We married on the boat," said Francine.
"There was a priest and everything!"

The officer sighed and stamped a paper. "As
you will. Next." Francine ran to Horace and leapt into his arms.
Jeanne couldn't help but smile. The officer repeated, "Next."

Jeanne stated her name, "Jeanne Harrow."

"Harrow. Sounds familiar," said the officer.
"Wait here."

He stood up and Jeanne started to worry. She
looked towards Horace and Francine, still embracing, but confused
and frightened instead of exuberant and passionate. The officer
came back with an envelope and he handed it to Jeanne. She took it,
and the officer stamped her papers and she went through.

Horace asked, "What was that all about?"

Jeanne opened the letter and read about how
much Joseph Clauson was looking forward to meeting her and
eventually, her child. He had rooms all ready and there would be a
party when they arrived. She felt her heart soften towards the
mystery man whom she was supposed to marry and she decided that she
would at least meet this man who so wanted to meet her and take
care of her and her child. She looked at Horace and Francine and
told them what the letter said and then asked, "Is it true? Are you
married?"

"Yes," said Francine. "We're going to find
rings in New York before our train leaves. I wanted you to be
there."

"I told her you needed your rest," said
Horace. "You were awfully sick the entire time. It wouldn't be
right to take you out of your cabin for a thing like that."

"I feel terrible," said Jeanne, and to her
amazement, she did. "When I get married, I'll talk to Joseph and
you'll join our ceremony. It'll only be right."

Francine asked, "You'd do that for us?"

"I would," said Jeanne and she was surprised
that she meant it. Something was happening to her, something she
wasn't entirely sure she liked, but it was happening regardless.
Francine and Horace both hugged her and Jeanne hurried away once
they got off yet another boat that carried them from the
immigration office to the mainland.

She sat down on a bench and a nun sat next to
her, carrying a bag of corn to feed the birds. She tossed some on
the ground and several birds flew down and pecked it up. The nun
offered Jeanne the bag, and she took a handful and tossed it on the
ground. She had never been a fan of animals, but she laughed a
little when the corn hit the ground and the birds rushed over to
eat it up.

"You seem troubled," said the nun.

"I am," said Jeanne. "I'm changing."

"I can see that," said the nun. "A young
British woman in America, carrying a child. I've never seen such a
change. Tell me about it."

"It's not all that," said Jeanne. "I just
feel softer. I came here to get married and now I'm finding myself
filled with all these hope and emotions I never thought I'd have.
What's wrong with me?"

The nun chuckled. "Nothing, child. I think
you're just getting a healthy dose of optimism. You're here, in the
land of new lives. So, start fresh."

"Yes," said Jeanne. "Yes. I know what I have
to do. Thank you, sister."

Jeanne rushed off to the telegraph office to
send a message to Joseph Clauson, to tell him how happy she was
that she was on her way to California. It was a foreign feeling,
but one she was really starting to enjoy.

A few days later, as Jeanne and her crew were
on a train headed across the country, Joseph received his
telegraph. He was reading it over when a shadow passed over him. He
barely had time to turn around when a sack was tossed over his head
and he was carried off. He had no idea where he was being taken,
but once he was there, they removed the sack after binding his arms
and legs. It was too dark to get a good look at who had done this
to him, but he could see another human being in the room with
him.

Joseph hissed, "Who are you?"

A hesitant Henry asked, "Mister Clauson?"

"Yes, Henry," said Joseph. "Do you know what
this is all about?"

"No," said Henry. "I was hoping you would. I
was just coming to check on Matilda and someone trapped me and put
me here."

"We have to be able to escape," said
Joseph.

"The door is locked and I think the rope's
reinforced with wire," lamented Henry. "I think there's also barbed
wire all over the place."

"Dang it," said Joseph. "Well, we'll think of
something. We have to."

The train ride from New York to California
was almost overwhelming in its tediousness. Jeanne spent most of
the time in their sleeper car, falling asleep when able and trying
very hard not to vomit as the train ride was less than smooth. She
would look out the window and other than the cities that become
very scarce, there was just trees and deserts. None of it was how
she pictured America, or how it was portrayed in the novels. She
hadn't seen a single outlaw or buffalo and she hadn't seen a single
thing that was very romantic or adventurous unless you counted
Horace and Francine, who were snuggling and spending every waking
moment together.

At the beginning of their trip, she would
have relished their closeness and she did take some pride in
pushing them slightly towards that direction. Now, she was just
lonely and while she felt very odd doing it, she started talking to
her child.

"Well, dear, at the very least we'll be far
away from the water," said Jeanne. She put her hand on her stomach,
which was now visibly fuller than it had been. "You must never go
to the water. No, no. If I forbid you, you'll just go to the water
anyway. Now then, you must at least be careful around the water. I
don't want to lose you like I lost your father though I suppose
you'll have a new father. He'll be different and I'm sure he'll be
a good father, but someday I'll tell you about the man who helped
create you."

She heard a voice behind her. It was Horace
and he asked, "Who are you talking to?"

"My child," said Jeanne. While she felt odd
about it, there was no way she was going to be ashamed about this.
"Where's Francine?"

"We need some time apart," said Horace.
"Besides, I have a job to do. Are you comfortable? Do you need
anything from me?"

"I'm fine, thank you," said Jeanne. "Then
again, could you go to the dining car and get me some food? I don't
care what it is. I'm just famished all the time now."

"Sure thing," said Horace. "I'll ask Francine
what might be best."

"Thank you," said Jeanne, and as Horace left
she sighed and placed her hand back on her stomach. "You know, he's
probably going to be your godfather. It's not as if I'm spoiled for
choice."

The rest of the trip went by smoothly, or at
least, as smoothly as the train would allow. The station was
towards the end of the line and the three of them exited the train
and looked around for Joseph Clauson. Horace had taken advantage of
a brief stop the day before to telegraph Clauson about their
estimated time of arrival, but there was no one there matching his
description of a rather thin blonde man with sharp yet handsome
features. A large man approached them however and spoke with a
grizzled voice, "You Jeanne Harrow and her crew?"

"We are," said Horace.

"Wasn't asking you, twerp," snapped the man.
"I was asking the lady. You Jeanne Harrow?"

"I am," said Jeanne. "And I'll thank you to
be nicer to my friend. He has come with me a long way."

"Friend? Well, that's a surprise," said
Horace. "Does that mean you forgive me for your husband's
death?"

"I'm getting there," said Jeanne.

"He killed a man? All right, I'll show some
respect," said the man, and he introduced himself, "I'm Joe
Clauson. Call me Jack. My friends do. You're here to marry me."

Jeanne stared at him. This was, in no way,
Joseph Clauson. He was obviously the kind of man who didn't mind
resorting to violence and Jeanne didn't want to risk the health of
herself or her friends and child. She told him, "We have to go get
our things. We'll be right back."

The imposter nodded and allowed the three of
them to go back to the train. Francine made a disapproving noise
once they got there and said, "Well. What kind of man wouldn't help
his pregnant wife carry luggage? I already don't like him."

"That's not Joseph Clauson," said Jeanne.
"I'm not sure what he aims to do, but we mustn’t let him know that
we know."

"Agreed," said Francine. "Horace, you should
be chummy with him. He seems to have taken a shine to you."

"I don't want to get hurt," said Horace. "I
don't want anyone else to get hurt more, though. I'll try to make
friends."

"Good," said Jeanne. Horace grabbed her trunk
and they loaded up a wagon that the imposter had brought with him.
Once they were all on the cart, Jeanne noticed that the horse
pulling it was a withered old mare. She felt some sort of
connection with it and when Jack produced a whip to make the nag go
faster, Jeanne stopped him. Fury flashed in Jack's eyes and she
simply said, "I'm in no hurry."

Jack huffed and put the whip away. "Whatever
you say, lady. We're going to get married next week. I think you
might need to contact some people back home and we're going to need
the money for the wedding. It's going to be a big wedding, so we're
going to need a lot of it."

Jeanne almost instantly realized Jack's plan,
but she was currently stuck on a wagon with him, so she chose to
play dumb. "I'll have Horace go to town tomorrow to send a message.
We should have the money soon." She put her head on his shoulder.
"I can't wait to be married to you!"