Where the River Flows Page 3

Instead she allowed the porter to assist her up the steps into the train. She went to the nearest empty seat and sunk into it, thankful it was next to a window so she could lean against it when she got sleepy.

  The train jerked into motion, the landscape changing quickly from a populated area to large expanses of nothing but trees and open landmasses. The first of several phases of her trek to Colter Valley had begun. Viola let out a sigh. She'd prayed so much lately, the words she needed now no longer came. The only thing she kept repeating was "God help me."

  "Would you like a piece of fruit?" An older woman offered her half an apple. "Are you unwell dear?"

  Viola smiled and reached for the proffered offering. "Thank you. Just very nervous," she admitted. "I am not sure I made the right decision to travel so far alone." Viola whispered the last part to the woman who nodded in understanding.

  "How far are you going?"

  "Montana. Colter Valley. Have you heard of it?"

  The woman smiled brightly. "I'm going to Montana as well. Billings, actually. We can travel together. How about it?" She let out a loud chuckle and slapped her leg. "Mabel Hawkins." She took a bite of her apple half.

  "I'm Viola Bunting," Viola couldn't help but smile in relief at the knowledge she'd not be so alone after all.

  Mabel lifted a large basket and placed it on the seat directly across from Viola. She retrieved a large ball of yarn and two knitting needles. "By the time we get to Wyoming, I'll have a blanket made for each of my grandchildren.” Her keen eyes searched the area around Viola. “What are you doing to pass the time?

  "Honestly I hadn't considered it," Viola admitted.

  Within moments, she had a smaller ball of yarn on her lap and knitting needles in her hands as Mabel instructed her.

  Two days later, Viola proudly displayed her small knitted square to Mabel. "Thank you so much for teaching me. I am itching to buy some yarn and make more things." She began unraveling her work so she could make something else. Thankfully, time was passing rather quickly between learning her new craft and chatting with Mabel who was traveling to Billings to live with her daughter and family. The woman proved to be an excellent traveling companion as they spent just as much time in silence as talking.

  "Once we get to Wyoming, the stage coach ride up to Montana won't be as comfortable I'm afraid," Mabel told her. "I am not looking forward to the cramped space and all the dust from the horses."

  Thinking how much closer she would be to arriving at her final destination made her stomach cramp with nerves. Would the man she was to marry be waiting on her? If so, how soon before they actually got married? According to the letters, there was a judge in Colter Valley who would perform the marriage ceremony immediately.

  It had to be done. Preferably, the sooner they married, the harder it would be for her to change her mind. He'd sent enough money for her to travel there, and although Joshua McKade had been quite generous, there wasn't enough to pay for a return trip.

  Besides, it was very important to get married. She couldn't very well go to a man's home without having taken the vows. "Mrs. Hawkins, do you believe I should find a way to put off getting married right away upon arriving?"

  "Goodness no, dear. Your intended could change his mind and then you'll be left without options. Whatever would you do in a town with nowhere to live and no prospects for a way to earn a living?"

  She'd pondered it plenty of times, turning in her mind the different scenarios and how things could play out. "What if he is a horrid man? I don't mean to sound shallow. What if he is extremely ugly?"

  Mable laughed loudly and covered her mouth before replying. "I see your point. I would rather be a beggar than lay with a horse-faced man."

  Both broke into a fit of giggles until a man across the aisle way cleared his throat. "I am not expecting him to be the most handsome of men. Mildly attractive would be nice."

  "We can only hope. If at upon meeting him, you simply cannot stomach the idea of a life with the man, then get a room in the hotel." Mabel tapped on Viola's knee. "Write me and I will convince my son-in-law we must come fetch you at once. You can stay with me until we get you a better suitor. As pretty as you are, it will not be a problem."

  "Thank you. I feel much better. I pray it will not come to it and the first letter you receive from me will be of being well settled and content."

  Viola had no illusions to falling madly in love with a handsome rancher who would sweep her off her feet. In truth, the most she dared hope for was a gentle, caring man with a sweet nature who treated her well. She let out a sigh and looked at the very different scenery from her home state. The trees had given way to taller broader ones, the ground changed from a flat lands to a more mountainous region. The high snowcapped peaks reached for the skies giving the illusion of touching the blue expanse.

  "It's a beautiful day is it not?" Viola asked Mabel. When the lady did not reply, she reached across and placed a rolled up shawl under the sleeping woman's head.

  The train's conductor moved down the aisle. "We should be arriving in just a few hours. Prepare for arrival."

  A chill ran up her spine and her eyes burned. The urge to cry became strong. Viola lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. This was not a time to be feeble. Not at all.

  The train station in Wyoming was surprisingly well tended and large. The amount of activity in spite of the small town's size astounded Viola. Her stagecoach to Colter Valley would not leave until the next day, so she and Mabel took a room in the nearby hotel for the night.

  The following morning, she found herself once again bidding a tearful farewell to a friend. Although their time together was short, she was sure their friendship would continue. After promising letters and visits, they parted ways.

  As Mabel predicted, the stagecoach proved to be rather uncomfortable. She was crammed between a man and a woman, and after several hours of attempting to keep from touching the man who promptly fell asleep and began to snore, she gave up and leaned her head back to attempt a nap. Unfortunately she jerked awake each time her head flopped to the side onto the man's shoulder.

  By the end of the day, her back ached, her temples throbbed, and she was sure not to have ever been so sweaty or dusty in her life. Viola wished for the freedom to have a long hard cry. Surely the other passengers would not judge her by their pained expressions.

  An older woman narrowed her eyes at her husband and poked him in the ribs. "Harold lean away from me. You are much too heavy to keep doing so." The poor stout man attempted to give his wife space to no avail. Finally he gave up and leaned away only to bang his head on a piece of luggage, which was crammed behind him on a small ledge.

  A cool breeze wafted through the window, a relief in the cramped hot space. The day was ending, long shadows cast over the expanse by the late afternoon sun falling behind the trees. The driver guided the coach into a plush valley and slowed. Viola leaned forward to peer out. Grass covered mountainsides cradled a lush prairie. In the distance, a lazy river flowed along which a neat row of buildings stood welcoming them.

  She let out a sigh of relief and blinked back tears. Soon she'd be out of the horribly oppressed space and able to breathe the fresh air outside the coach.

  The stern woman once again jostled her husband. "Looks like we've finally arrived. Ensure not to leave my stitching bag behind."

  "Yes, dear," the groggy man responded and let out a burp, which made Viola hold her breath at the rancid odor. "Excuse me," he said and promptly passed gas. "I beg everyone's pardon. All this travel has given me horrible indigestion."

  "Harold," his wife cried out covering her face with a handkerchief.

  Viola sent up a quick prayer. Not only for them to arrive quickly, but for Harold to be able to keep any more bodily functions to himself until after he was out of the closed in space.

  She continued to look out the window although it meant leaning a bit more on the man beside her. This was to be her new home, the place where she'd raise a family and grow
old. Torn between excitement and dread at what awaited her, she closed her eyes and prayed once again.

  God help me.

  Finally the coachman brought the horses to a stop and announced they'd arrived in Colter Valley. While she waited for the men to unload the luggage, Viola took the opportunity to take in the small town. It would remain in her mind, scenery like she'd never seen before. Up close, the snowcapped mountains towered on both sides. Beyond town, the view of a wide colorful expanse of land took her breath.

  "Where are you staying madam?" A young man asked as he placed a bag next to her. "I can help you carry it."

  "Oh dear," Viola replied and looked down the street toward the line of buildings. "I suppose I should get a room at the hotel. There is one here, isn't there?"

  "Yes, ma'am." He picked up the same bag. "It's not too far."

  An olive skinned woman rushed towards her while waving her arms. "Are you Viola Bunting?" The woman wore her long black hair braided down her back. It actually surprised Viola not to see a feather sticking from it.

  "Yes. I am." Viola took a step back to keep from being trampled by the woman who had yet to stop approaching.

  The woman gave her a once over and smiled widely. "You are a beauty. Just wait until Joshua get's a gander at you." Her accent was flat, unlike any she'd ever heard. She didn't seem at all what Viola expected the local tribespeople to be like. The woman grinned. "I'm so excited you're here." She embraced Viola in a tight hug. "Welcome to Colter Valley."

  The Indian woman looked to the young man. "My wagon's over there. Tommy, just put her bags in it." She then turned her attention to Viola. "I'll take you over to my place to get freshened up."

  It was almost overwhelming how quickly the woman switched from subject to subject, her speech as animated as her hand motions. "Tommy, ride out to Joshua McKade's place and let him know his soon to be wife has arrived. Tell him not to come get her until tomorrow."

  "Yes, Mrs. Sunshine," the young man, Tommy, replied and hurried off toward a wagon with her luggage.

  Viola tried to formulate what to say to the woman who obviously knew more about her. "Are you a friend of Mr. McKade's?"

  "Goodness," Mrs. Sunshine laughed and clapped her hands. "Here I am just ordering and making decisions without even introducing myself." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. "I am Sunshine Albright. My husband, William, is the judge here in Colter Valley. I am very good friends of Abigail, Joshua's sister."

  It was easy to like Sunshine, who picked up her smaller bag and motioned to a waiting wagon. "I told Abigail, since I live closer to town, I'd come to wait on the stagecoach in case you were on it. She's chomping at the bit to meet you. Will be downright upset I got to meet you first."

  "Are all Indians like you?" Viola expected the native people to have their own language and not be quite so friendly. Sunshine was definitely not what she'd expected.

  "Goodness, no. My husband's aunt found me when I was very young and raised me. I have never lived with my tribe." Sunshine guided her to climb onto the bench on the buggy. "I live just a ten minute's ride from here, so not much longer sweetie. I know you must be exhausted. Once we get there, you can take a hot bath, eat, and get some sleep. I imagine Joshua will come by early tomorrow. Once you two meet and get acquainted a bit, William can marry you."

  By Sunshine's matter of fact tone, mail order brides were not a novelty in the west. Viola's face felt hot and she was sure it was bright red at the mention of marrying a man she would only meet moments before.

  The cool breeze helped cool her heated skin and calm her fragile nerves. "What about his sister? Will she want to be present?"

  "Of course. Good point." Sunshine looked over her shoulder and scanned the street. Not seeming to find anyone of interest, she snapped the reins to get the horses moving. "I'll send one of the farm hands to go inform her just as soon as we get to my house."

  It was only a ten minute ride to Sunshine's house, an inviting whitewashed house in town. Her husband William, a stout man with a graying beard, was just as friendly as his wife.

  As soon as she bathed and ate, Viola fell into an exhausted slumber until the crowing of roosters woke her the next morning. Viola stretched in the comfortable bed and sent up a prayer.

  Today she'd meet Joshua McKade. This was to be her wedding day.

  A tingle of anxiety began and she let out a breath but her hands trembled as she pushed her hair away from her face. "Time to grow up, Viola."

  Chapter Five

  Joshua inspected the bedroom once again. He'd spent most of the evening before and from early morning cleaning up and ensuring all was in its proper place. The barking of the small pup from the other side of the door made him take a deep breath. He'd put the puppy outside to keep her from underfoot and soiling inside. She'd proven to be a fast learner, although still had an accident on occasion.

  When the boy came with the message the day before, he was of half a mind to send him back to say he wasn't coming for her. Then he'd began straightening the back of the house as best he could with one arm and wondering more and more if perhaps it was a good idea to go ahead and get married.

  The kitchen and front room still needed to be done. He sighed not looking forward to the chore.

  If he married, it was imperative to keep his emotions in check, not allow the woman too close, she'd start getting some fanciful notions of a romantic nature or some nonsense. As a matter of fact, the first conversation he planned to have with her would be to ensure they come to an understanding.

  It would be a marriage of convenience. She would have a place to live, food in her belly, and a roof over her head. In exchange, she would take care of the house, cook, clean, and whatever else women did. No need to get it in her head they would have physical relations, nor children. The last thing he needed was to have to dig another grave next to Gretchen's and bury another wife.

  Mind made up, he opened the side door and swept the bits of dirt and such out just as the puppy ran in making every bit of it blow back inside onto his boots and floor.

  "Damn dog," Joshua grumbled under his breath. "I guess you're right, we don't have to clean up too good. No need for the Miss to not have anything much to do tomorrow."

  He heaved a breath and wondered how long it would take to hitch the wagon to the horse with his left hand. Being right handed, the weeks since he'd been wearing the sling had proven to be quite an imposition.

  Joshua walked through the messy front room and sat on a chair on the porch. He should have told the young boy to tell Sunshine and the judge to bring the woman to his house and marry them there. It would take him a while before he could get out to them.

  "Women. All they do is complicate things." He stood and descended the stairs and noticed several of his horses were nudging at the trough. "I better get the horses watered and fed. Then I'll see about heading out to meet this woman." It was definitely not a good day to get married. He had too much to do.

  The sun was high by the time he finally got the wagon hitched. His clothes were dusty and his boots in dire need of a good cleaning. All of his shirts were dirty. Abigail had taken a couple to wash. Hadn't brought them back yet. Then there was the matter of his bushy beard and long hair. With a grunt of frustration, he scratched his beard in thought and considered attempting to trim it, only to realize with his left hand, he'd make more of a mess than fix it.

  An hour later, he neared the Albright's house, not surprised to see his sister and her husband were already there. Little Libby was running out front chasing chickens while Abigail kept an eye on her from the porch. Next to her was a younger woman. He couldn't make out her features from the distance, her figure he made out just fine. She was of average height, more curvy than thin, with brown hair. Dressed in a pale tan dress, she had a blue shawl around her shoulders.

  Abigail waved then turned to the woman, no doubt preparing her for his appearance by making excuses about his broken arm. The woman peered toward him with interest, which caught h
im off guard. Truthfully he expected to find her cowering indoors, peeking at him through a window.

  It was he who suddenly became uncomfortable and wishing the safety of something to hide behind that was surprising. To gather more time to get his bearings, he pulled the horses to a slower gait and took deep breaths.

  Finally, he couldn't prolong it and drove the wagon to the side of the house. He tethered the horse next to a trough and made his way toward the front of thehouse.

  "Joshua McKade. You could have at least put on a clean shirt for your wedding. I can't believe my eyes." Abigail had rounded the house and had her hands on her hips. Her wide eyes ran over his attire and she huffed with indignation. "I am embarrassed for you." She whispered after glancing over her shoulder.

  "Not much I can do about it now," he replied and gritted his teeth to keep from telling her the whole thing wasn't his idea. "'Sides you took my clothes to wash and haven't brought them back. Now let's get it done. I have a lot of work to do."

  Abigail's mouth fell open. "Go to the barrel and wash up. I'll go see if William will loan you a clean shirt." She stomped off without waiting for a reply.

  Sunshine's face appeared from the corner of the house. "I made a cake for you."

  Joshua grunted and headed to the barrel. Women gave him a headache. Admittedly Gretchen had often driven him to long walks to keep from snapping at her. Why did they make such a big deal out of mail order bride marriage? It wasn't a romantic match. For all they knew, the woman would refuse to marry him and get on the first coach back east after he told her the conditions of the marriage.

  Obedient for the time being, he washed up in the water barrel and changed into a shirt Abigail produced from inside the house. "I need to talk to her in private prior to saying the vows." He told his sister who nodded and surprisingly did not argue.

  "Of course. It's proper for you and she to talk for a bit. Introduce yourselves before getting married."

  They walked back to the porch. Viola was no longer there. Abigail motioned to a chair. "Wait here, I'll tell Viola to come out." His sister smiled at him, her eyes misting. "She is so pretty and so very nice. You'll love her immediately."