Misty: Four Historical Romances

Misty: Four Historical Romances

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2016 Susan Hart

The Widow Rose & Cart The Cowboy

Mail Order Bride: Widowed & Headed For Her Russian Bear In Alaska

Mail Order Bride: A Broken Cowboy To Heal

Mail Order Bride: A Hard Fought Journey To Love

The Widow Rose & Cart The Cowboy

Synopsis: The Widow Rose & Cart The Cowboy - A woman runs away from her big city life, after stowing away with a man she had just met. He finds her later and they fall in love and are married. Their idyllic life is shattered one day and Rose has no idea what she’ll do to maintain her sanity.

Spring had come to the valley in quick time, the winter snows melting so fast that streams were overflowing their banks, happy to wander onto land previously denied, satisfied with their chance to make the grasses grow and the flowers to bloom uninhibited by any rules of nature.

It was simply the most beautiful sight Rose had ever seen as she walked from her horse to the hilltop that she loved so much, that they loved. It was her weekly pilgrimage to join Tom for a light picnic lunch, which she carried in the basket dangling from her arm. Only, he wouldn’t join her for the sandwich, his body resting deep in the dirt of the hill where he had wanted to be buried so that he could always be with her and their memories.

Rose spread the small blanket across the damp grass, knowing that her riding britches would absorb some of the wetness, but she didn’t care. It would actually feel good to have the wind dry the fabric as she rode back down the mile of distance between this favorite spot and her cabin, their cabin just finished by their hands a year earlier. Their cabin, where love of the land and each other had been their lives.

Until the day of the accident.

She laid out the small lunch on the blanket, fixed herself a sandwich, poured her sweet tea and listened to the bluebirds that frequented the spot since she had laid Tom to rest there merely eleven months past. Rose enjoyed the birds and their dedication to each other; they were like the young couple that came to this place for the first time only three years before. Life had moved fast, but happily.

The two bluebirds were much like her and Tom - always filling the little spaces of each other’s lives where a void, an emptiness of sorts existed. Rose had loved him with all her heart and soul, and he had loved her no less, despite their unlikely and frowned-upon beginnings together in Charleston. Rose was a debutante, Tom a rugged cowboy who just happened to be a customer of her father’s. Her mind drifted backwards to the time when she had first met him as it often did.

Tom had come to Charleston on business with her father, namely for the arrangement of shipping goods to Nebraska where Tom was already making a new and prosperous life for himself. He was doing some prospecting for gold, but his main reason for living there was his horse ranch and an investment in the new railroad being built across the state. He only invested money in prosperous businesses, and the railroad was the new thing.

As it happened, the day of his visit to Bud Gray’s house was a day of celebration - Rose, Bud’s only child was turning twenty-one and a party had been planned to honor the occasion.

Bud invited Tom to their stately mansion in the country to discuss the business at hand, and Tom arrived just as Rose’s party was about to begin.

The two men were in Bud’s home office where his wife, Martha, was just departing after being introduced to Tom. She was her daughter’s keeper in more ways than one, her dedication to her only child obvious in all that Martha did. She adored the girl.

Just as Tom and Bud had finished their business and all the plans for shipping goods to Nebraska were set, the two men walked into the vast hallway and toward the large walnut door of entry to the house. As they shook hands, a rustle of satin drew Tom’s attention to the top of the large double staircase.

His eyes followed the noise and came to rest on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…and his gasp of breath made Bud turn and seek the source of his surprise.

Ah, that’s my daughter, Rose. Come, Tom, and meet her. Today is her twenty-first birthday and we are about to host a party for her.

Tom was mesmerized as she came down the stairs as if floating on air, her smile wide, her deep gray eyes glistening like jewels. He didn’t think his mouth would work long enough to even speak. Tom had never seen anything quite like this young beauty, and he realized that he felt a new and somewhat strange feeling in his heart.

When Rose reached the final step, she offered her hand to Tom with that smile beaming and her eyes on his face.

I’m Rose, she said softly. And you must be Tom Ryder, Daddy’s customer. He told me you would be stopping by today.

Tom cleared his throat, nerves showing themselves readily.

I am, he said softly. Tom Ryder, Mam. Pleased to meet you. Quickly enough, he remembered his manners and kissed her offered hand lightly, holding it in place.

Would you like to stay for our party? she asked, her voice like a bird full of happiness.

Ah, I can’t, but thank you, Tom answered her. I have so many closely scheduled appointments that I haven’t time today. Happy birthday to you. Twenty-one is a magical age, though I’ve passed it ten years ago.

Thank you, Tom. You certainly don’t look thirty-one, not in the least. Must be the fresh air and open prairies that treat you so well with your tanned skin and rugged, handsome looks.

He knew right away that she was an independent spirit and settled young woman. Not many ladies would be so blunt in telling a man he was handsome. In fact, most ladies would consider that an extremely forward remark, but to Tom, it was a wonderful compliment. His heart turned over.

You’re far too generous, Miss Gray, but you’re right about the tan. Thanks to the state of Nebraska and its open land and perfect climate. You must visit it sometime.

It was a standard remark and a standard invitation, the best that Tom could muster up as his eyes traveled over her lovely face.

I shall, she said quite firmly. If my parents ever let me out of the house, that is.

She followed the stern hint with a tinkling laugh common to southern women of the day, but Tom saw right through it, betting his life that she would be on the next wagon train west if her parents would approve, and probably if they didn’t, as well.

He put the thought into safekeeping at the back of his mind, just in case.

It’s an exciting adventure to be in a new state, he replied. I love the life I have, but there are no conveniences in Nebraska such as you have here.

Tom hoped that his energy would transfer into her soul through the hand that he still held in his, too long he was sure for southern manners, but she didn’t try to remove it either. He wondered if she felt the same spark as he.

Bud! his wife called from down the hall. Would you come help me, please?

Excuse me, please, Tom. My wife needs me. He offered Tom his hand for a goodbye handshake. Let me know if you need anything else before you head back to Nebraska.

Thank you, Sir. I certainly will.

Tom turned back to Rose with a big smile, about to say his goodbye to her.

I’ll be at the top of the hill to the right of the house tomorrow at noon, Rose whispered to him. There’s only one hill in this godforsaken flatland around here. Join me there for a picnic, if you please.

She pulled her hand from his and quickly stepped off the staircase and walked down the hall, leaving Tom with a quizzical look on his face. He slowly turned toward the front door and left the house, his mind whirling at the invitation Rose had just given him.

The rest of the day Tom spent making his final purchases and arrangements for the long trip back home. He had rushed through things so that he could meet Rose the next day. Now, after her quick whisper, he was certain that she had felt the sparks, too.

Tom walked his horse slowly up the hill where Rose said she would be, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Walking was a feeble attempt at calming his racing nerves, because he had come to realize that she either felt the same as he did about their meeting, or she was conjuring up her own dreams of the cowboy lifestyle and would use him to play them out.

While Tom couldn’t read her game just yet, he was readily letting the beautiful woman take charge, manipulating him into something she wanted. He knew it, and he hoped beyond hope that his first guess was the right one.

She was sitting on a large blanket with a picnic lunch laid out before her, smiling at him as he crested the last bit of grass to join her.

Good day, Tom said in his easy cowboy voice. What a beautiful place you’ve found here.

I know. It is my favorite of all Daddy’s land, this spot is. I come here weekly, at least, all by myself to reflect and hope and dream.

He found her words to be sincere and prophetic.

You certainly couldn’t have found a better place to do it, Tom answered, stepping to the edge of the drop off into the city of Charleston below them. This reminds me of some places in Nebraska where there appears to be nothing beyond where you are, as if you’re at the end of the world. But when you step to the edge of the hill or the ledge, you see another whole world spread out below you. A magnificent world.

I would love to go there, she said.

It is a beautiful place, wide and open in some places, rocky and tight in others. People say there’s something for everyone in Nebraska.

He joined her on the blanket and accepted the glass of tea Rose handed him.

And what’s there for you, Mr. Tom Ryder?

Tom knew the question carried more than the words spoke on the surface. She wanted to know more about him.

Life, he said simply. It carries my life. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else but there, Rose. It was the first time he had used her given name, but Tom felt comfortable doing so, and she didn’t object.

That must be nice, she said, to have such liberty and control over one’s life. I yearn for that freedom.

Tom looked at her, watching her eyes enter a dreamland that only she could see. He couldn’t imagine being in her position of having it all, yet wanting a meager lifestyle such as his. Anything that she wanted which money could buy was Rose’s for the asking. What could be in Nebraska that would even prick her attention?

I’m sure you have a nice life right here in Charleston. Why would you want to give that up and live somewhere like me? We don’t have any modern conveniences, and we build everything ourselves as we need it. I’ve only recently finished a small log cabin, Rose, and it doesn’t even have windowpanes in it yet. That’s one of the things I’m taking back with me.

So you sleep in a house without windows in the holes?

I certainly do. On a floor with pallets made of horsehair padding and wool left over from old military uniforms. It is a very rugged life at the moment. In years to come as things develop around the state, life will be easier, but it is far from that now.

You sleep with the night air drifting into your cabin and the sounds of wildlife just on the other side of your walls?

Pretty much, he said, careful to stay honest about his living conditions.

Oh my! Rose said, looking out over the hill. How blessed you are! Fresh air, wild animals, opens spaces to ride through and plunder. Things to build and do for the first time. I envy you, Tom Ryder.

He was shocked, but she was right, Tom was blessed in many ways.

What a nice thing to say about Nebraska, he answered, but I don’t think it is quite as romantic as you express, Rose. There are dangerous wild animals, thick heavy forests that have to be cleared to build or grow anything, rugged hills that make traveling an awful chore, and night bugs that crawl into your mouth if your snore. It certainly isn’t a bed of roses.

Perhaps not to you, but I see it differently, Rose said in a firm voice. She proceeded to make their sandwiches and lay out the lunch. Please, help yourself.

They ate and talked about things that interested them, carefully avoiding the subject of Nebraska. Tom felt it would only lead to things he wasn’t prepared to handle, and saying no to this beauty would be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Rose began to repack her basket with his help. They walked to their horses in silence, neither of them wanting the time together to come to an end.

Don’t ride back to the house with me, she said quietly. This is our secret. Okay?

Tom was confused, but he agreed to head down the other side of the hill and back into Charleston.

When are you leaving? she asked.

Tomorrow, he said, hating that they wouldn’t have more time together.

Early?

Yes, just at daybreak.

How many people are going with you?

Me and four other men I’ve hired, along with two wagons of supplies and stuff for the trip, so that’s five men altogether. Why?

Just wondering, Rose said, turning her horse and riding off down the hill to the stately mansion she called home.

Tom watched until she passed into a thicket of loblolly pines that shielded the house from his view. His heart beat rapidly much the same as it had when he touched her hand. He said a silent prayer that somehow, sometime, he would see her again.

The small group pulled out of Charleston just as the sun was rising over the harbor with its golden hue and sign of a good day and pleasant weather. Tom had calculated that they would make it to Tennessee before stopping for the night. All told, he forecasted a five-day trip to Nebraska if the weather and other things cooperated. He led the group, followed by the two wagons with the cowboys trailing in the rear. It was the safest way for the group to travel.

Just as he thought, Tom led the group into Nashville, Tennessee just as dusk was falling. They had made it this far without any problem at all, stopping only to have a light lunch of bread and tea and to water the horses when needed. They had a stew for dinner and went to sleep in their bedrolls, typical traveling style for rugged cowboys of the day.

Sometime late in the night or early in the morning, Tom was half wakened by a rustling noise in the small camp. He raised his head, listened again, but heard and saw nothing. Sleep overcame him again without any further interruptions.

At daybreak, the men quickly ate and started on their journey again, everything in place and all according to plan. Tom hoped to make it across most of Tennessee the second day and crossing into Missouri on the morning of the third day. It was a rugged route for the small group, but he knew they wouldn’t be rushed in any way.

But, what he didn’t anticipate was a bad thunderstorm when they reached the hilly terrain of west Tennessee. When the thunder started, he led the group into a pine thicket to wait out the storm and eat lunch. The rain beat down around them, but the group was fairly dry inside the pines.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder spooked one of the horse team pulling the second wagon. Before any of the men could react, the horse reared up, its hoofs pawing at the air. When his hooves hit the ground again, the horse lurched forward, pulling the wagon so hard that the brake let go and the wagon headed out of the thicket. Tom and two of the men dropped their coffee cups, mounted their horses and headed after the wagon. They couldn’t afford to lose a single thing packed in it.

They chased the runaway wagon for almost a mile before overcoming it, one of the men jumping onto the back of the frightened horse and slowly bringing the team and wagon to a stop. He scrambled over the driver’s seat and into the wagon to make sure everything was still there. Tom waited back a little distance, afraid sudden movement from the rider’s horses would spook the animal again.

Everything okay? he hollered to his man.

There was no answer, but the shielding canvas at the front of the wagon was pulled aside and the man stepped out, pulling something behind him that must have been fairly heavy.

Tom watched as out from the canvas doors stepped Rose, her hair a mess and her dress front covered in an oily residue, no doubt from something in the supplies leaking onto her.

Well, I’ll be damned, he said aloud. She did come.

He quickly rode to the wagon, trying hard to settle his mind and to convince himself to do the right thing about this runaway woman that had, no doubt, followed her dream that she must have seen on his coattail. As he got close to the wagon, her mouth formed that same smile Rose had gifted him as she walked down the wide staircase the first time he saw her and he heart melted again.

What the hell are you doing here? he asked, purposefully making his voice harsh. Rose Gray, this is enough to have me arrested!

The smile lingered. No one is going to arrest you, Tom Ryder! I’m twenty one years old and of legal age for deciding what I do with myself.

Age is no excuse for being senseless, and climbing into the back of a wagon as a stowaway is senseless. You could have been killed, Rose!