Big Meadows Valentine (Eastern Sierra Brides 1884) Read online

  “Dang! Nobody put on no coffee. Er—sorry about the language, ma’am. But, it looks like I don’t have no hot drink to offer you.”

  “Don’t go frettin’ none. I’ll be leavin’ directly, soon as I thaw,” Beth smiled her appreciation to the young driver.

  With her gloved right hand, Beth smoothed out imaginary wrinkles as she allowed the colors of the log cabin blocks take her back home. While her mother still lived, she had sewn together enough blocks to make bed quilts for both Beth and Zelly. She had used red squares for all the centers, explaining to Beth that the red represented the chimney top glowing from the warm fire inside the log house. The colorful strips that made up the rest of each block were cut from clothing scraps her mother had collected over the years. The one constant about the blocks was that each one was framed on two joining sides with the same color—blue for the blocks on Beth’s quilt, pink for the blocks on Zelly’s quilt. Their mother had died before the two quilts were finished. After Zelly had learned to use a needle, she was the one who had insisted the sisters spend their evenings stitching together the layers their mother had prepared and turning the edges to the inside to sew them shut.

  But, as Beth sat as close as she dared to the blazing cast iron stove, she could appreciate the sentiment of warmth coming up through a cabin’s chimney represented by the red center squares on the quilt. It reminded her of home in Ohio when she was a child and her mother was still alive.

  Beth fought back the annoyance she felt at the memory of how Mrs. Dodd, Jim’s aunt, had tried to bully Beth into leaving the quilt behind rather than take it on her journey to search for her husband. Beth knew she had no intention of returning after she found Jim Dodd, so she refused to let the quilt stay behind for supposed safe-keeping.

  Beth suspected that, although there was nothing fancy about the quilt—it did not even have a proper binding on the edge—the woman wanted it for one of her daughters. In fact, Mrs. Dodd had been so insistent about it, that after the wall-shaking argument in which Beth finally convinced her it was a family heirloom made by her deceased mother, and she was taking it with her no matter what, Beth had next pulled her sister into the room they shared. Beth had placed Zelly’s hand on their mother’s Bible and made her swear an oath. When it was Zelly’s time to leave the Dodd’s, she must promise to not leave her quilt behind.

  Beth gritted her teeth and shook her head at the thought of how much she disliked Mrs. Agnes Dodd. Even though Jim had given the woman money to cover room and board for a year, Agnes had resented the presence of Beth and Zelly—Beth more than Zelly—in her house from the beginning. Beth hadn’t been any happier when her husband thrust her under his aunt’s roof than Agnes had been thrilled to receive her and Zelly.

  In spite of his effort to make a good show that first summer in order to impress Elmer Jessup, Jim had proven his incompetence as a farmer. He possessed no understanding about breeding animals. His efforts to work the crops were so half-hearted that Beth had found herself back in the fields doing most of the harvesting that first autumn. He might have had a hankering at the beginning to settle down on the land, but once Jim Dodd figured out that farming was hard and solitary work, he soon became disgruntled.

  Jim spent so much of the harvest money in town—at the bars and brothels, she later heard through gossip—Beth had worried there would not be enough for seed and other necessities. By April of 1881 when Elmer Jessup finally succumbed to the consumption that had plagued him for years, he died knowing two things: Beth was expecting his first grandchild, and he had made a poor bargain in his choice of husband for his oldest daughter.

  That spring, although over the worst of her morning sickness, Beth fatigued easily due to her pregnancy and grief over losing her father. Yet, in order to get the crops planted in time, Beth found herself still out in the fields on those days when Jim Dodd did not return from town. Too far along to help much with the harvest, Jim bore the burden of it alone, complaining constantly. The return had proven skimpy.

  In October, Darren Dodd, Agnes’s son and Jim’s cousin, had come to Jim full of excitement about the report of the latest silver strike in Aurora, Nevada. At that point, with Elmer Jessup gone, Jim felt no compunction to heed the terms of his contract with him. Even though Beth was seven months pregnant and the farm had been her home all her life, Jim couldn’t sell it fast enough to get the money to travel west with his cousin. He promised her that he could make a fortune in mining and before the year was over, he would send for her, the baby and Zelly.

  What had really upset Beth the most was that just before the sale of the farm, Jim Dodd had crated up all Beth’s chickens and sold them. She never saw a dime of the money.

  Once the year had come and gone, and still no word from Jim, it had been almost a relief to be forced from Agnes Dodd’s home. It would have been a pleasure if it hadn’t meant Beth must leave behind little Zelly and travel a terrifying journey thousands of miles into the unknown by herself.

  Once Agnes received word from her son, Darren, that he had settled in Reno, Nevada, she had somehow wrangled train ticket money for Beth out of Jim’s brother—the one who had inherited the family farm, but refused to take in Jim’s cast-off pregnant wife and her sister. Beth had been charged with finding her husband so he could resume supporting both her and her sister.

  Considering herself a good Christian, Agnes gave Beth a year to find Jim Dodd and make arrangements to send for Zelly. She threatened Beth that if Zelly wasn’t sent for by the end of the next October, she would turn Zelly out to fend for herself.

  As far as Beth was concerned, if she ever saw Jim Dodd again, it would be too soon. But, the scoundrel had gotten all of her dowry portion of the money from the farm. She was bound and determined that she would get it back from him in the form of him providing for her support. Plus, he needed to pay to send for Zelly.

  And Beth didn’t care what her father had said about the chickens. She had talked to Judge Bates before she left to travel west. He said in Ohio a woman could hold separate property she owned before she got married. So, as far as she was concerned, Jim Dodd owed her for her chickens.

  Beth forced her thoughts to the back of her mind. She had a husband to find, and the best place to start was with the saloons. She stood, nodded her thanks to Eddie Hector, took a deep breath and stepped out of the livery building.

  Just then, six mules hitched to a small freight wagon box with sleigh runners pulled up to the livery barn, cutting Beth off. She jumped back to avoid getting splattered.

  Plumb inconsiderate, if you ask me.

  “Ma’am! You forgot your satchel.”

  At the sound of Eddie’s voice, Beth retraced her steps to the inner office to retrieve her valise. As she turned to exit the door a second time, she nearly smashed her nose into the chin of a man wearing a sheepskin jacket. Her face flooded red with embarrassment, for, if the truth were known, she had tripped as she spun around and fell against him.

  Reflexively, the man reached up and grabbed her upper arms to help her regain her balance. She jerked her head back to keep her forehead from bumping into his nose and to prevent the brim of his dark brown Stetson riding low on his forehead from further mashing the bedraggled silk flowers on the top of her hat. She looked into his eyes mere inches from hers and noted they were a deep brown, almost as dark as the brunette hair and beard peeking out from under his hat and muffler. Beth’s breath caught, feeling an immediate jolt inside a she took in the man’s handsome dark features and olive-toned skin. Then again, Beth realized, any man that didn’t have sandy blond hair and a porous, freckled face blotched red from too much drink like Jim Dodd would look good to her.

  “Whoa, ma’am. You all right?”

  “Yes, sir. Plumb clumsy of me,” Beth mumbled. “Thank you kindly.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am,” the stranger said as he released her arms. “Name’s Val Caldwell. And you are...”

  Beth noted the twinkle of pleasure in the man’s eyes as he stu
died her face. He either possessed a pleasant personality or her awkwardness amused him, Beth couldn’t be sure which. At least he didn’t try to hold onto her too long or look her up and down from head to foot while trying to figure out what she looked like beneath her clothing. She had been subjected to that more than once during her meanderings through the mining camps. Beth decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Elizabeth Dodd. Mrs. James Dodd,” Beth added pointedly in hopes that this man knew Jim Dodd. If he did, he might help speed up her search by telling her where to locate her husband.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dodd,” Val said with a nod as he took a slight step back. “Are you and your husband new to Lundy?”

  Beth quelled her disappointment that Val Caldwell did not know her husband. Before she could answer, Eddie spoke.

  “She’s lookin’ for him, says he’s been a miner here for some time. I ain’t had no business with him, so I can’t say that I know him.”

  “Then, I’m surprised that he isn’t here to meet you, Mrs. Dodd.”

  Beth looked into his eyes and felt herself being drawn deep into their depths. She swallowed and forced herself to speak.

  “He don’t know I’m comin’.” Beth looked away, the admission that she was searching for a husband who had abandoned her once again shot an ache through her. “I done gone on more’n one wild goose chase all over these here minin’ districts lookin’ for him startin’ in Reno where his cousin last had word of him. The latest I was told, he’s here in Lundy. I reckon it’s best to start lookin’ for him in the saloons, seein’ as how he liked to spend most his time in the like back home. I’m fixin’ to start with yonder one across the street.”

  Beth started forward, but immediately stopped once she realized that Val Caldwell had not stepped aside to let her pass. A frown of concern covered his face.

  “Mrs. Dodd, that’s not a good idea, you visiting the saloons. They’re no place for a lady, especially in mining towns.”

  Beth couldn’t completely suppress her smirk.

  Ain’t no lady; just a farm wife from Ohio. Or was.

  “Mr. Caldwell...”

  “Val, ma’am. Just call me Val. We don’t stand on ceremony out here.”

  “Val, I can’t worry none about bein’ discomfited walkin’ into no saloon. If I’m goin’ to find that lay-about husband of mine, that’s where he’ll be. The seedier, the better my chances.”

  Eddie Hector moved to stand next to Val, further blocking the doorway. He looked at Val whose frown had deepened, and then back at Beth. For all his fifteen years, he appeared worldly wise.

  “Ain’t sure what you mean by seedier, ma’am,” said Eddie. “Saloons are saloons, and men get actin’ stupid when they get drunk. Granted, we got some pretty decent saloons. With no city government like most towns, only a judge and a constable and a postmaster, most business deals and government work is done in saloons like the Grand Central and O.K. Sample. But, that still don’t make them no place for a woman.”

  “They sound right smart, but it’s chancy he’d be in a place like that unless they got upstairs girls. Can’t worry none about what’s proper. On a farm, you learn to do what you gotta do. I aim to find Jim Dodd, and that means me goin’ into saloons and askin’ around.”

  And it was also why she wore her pa’s old hunting knife strapped to the inside of her right calf with the tip secured in the top of her shoe. More than once she had yanked it out and jabbed it at a drunk’s throat to convince him she had no intention of showing him a good time.

  “You’re a farm woman, are you?” Val asked with genuine interest.

  “Was.” Beth couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Raised on a farm and worked it ’til my husband done sold it to return to minin’.”

  Beth watched the look of consternation that passed between the two men. She ignored it and once again stepped forward, hoping they possessed good enough manners to let her pass. Once again, Val raised his hand to stop her.

  “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Dodd, but if you can wait a few minutes, I’d be pleased to go with you looking for your husband as long as you don’t mind me taking care of some of my business along the way.”

  “Don’t want to discomfit you none...”

  “It won’t. Let me take care of a mule who threw her shoe below the lake and make a few deliveries. Then I’ll go around with you.”

  “Reckon it’ll be dark afore long. Best I start lookin’ now rather than wait on your mule gettin’ shod...”

  “I’m just leaving the mule here.” Val turned and addressed his question to Eddie. “You or your man can shoe her before I got to leave in the morning, right?” At Eddie’s nod, he turned back to Beth. “Won’t take but a moment to unhitch the front two pair. Two mules can handle the load in town, especially since I leave most of my load at the Central Market next door. Then I deliver to a few chop shops next block over. After that, I’ll be free to escort you.”

  “He knows his way around pretty good for not being from Lundy,” Eddie interjected. “I can vouch for him, ma’am. You’re safe with him.”

  Surprised, Beth turned back to Val. “You ain’t from around here?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m from Big Meadows, down the mountain and up the road a ways. My family has a big ranch up there, run cattle mostly.”

  “Bridgeport, you mean,” Eddie chuckled.

  “Nope! They changed the town’s name to Bridgeport, then it became the seat for Mono County.”

  “Yeah, that was somethin’ when they decided Aurora is really in Nevada, not California, so it couldn’t be the county seat no more,” Eddie shook his head.

  “Anyway after that they started calling the whole place Bridgeport. But, there was no Bridgeport when my family first came here. It was known then as Big Meadows. That’s what we still call it.”

  Beth looked at Val Caldwell with new interest and respect.

  The man is a rancher. He has pride in his land, just like I did with our farm before Pa sold me away and Jim Dodd sold it out from underneath me.

  Beth took a deep breath and pushed her sense of loss away. She had learned a long time ago there was use crying over spilt milk. Or sold chickens.

  “You’ll be safe with him, even if takes you to the Red Onion and Blue Feather and the like,” Eddie said, pulling Beth’s attention back to the present. “I’d take you, ma’am, but they say I’m too young, so they don’t want me in there, neither.” With a grin on his face, Eddie shrugged and left to help unhitch the mules.

  Beth turned back to Val. “Tell me about them saloons he named.”

  Val reddened slightly under his olive complexion. “Those are the seedier saloons you mentioned.”

  “Oh.” Then, changing the subject, Beth asked, “What you need delivered?”

  “Butchered beef, mostly. When we’re not buried in snow, I can drive a few head up here to Central Market’s butcher. Snow’s too deep now. I get it butchered, then frozen in Bridgeport, and haul it up in sections. I usually have my brother along to ride shotgun to keep predators away. He got tied up with business in Carson City, so I had to make the trip by myself this time.”

  Beth worried her lip as she debated about going with Val Caldwell. She studied his eyes, trying to measure his character. What she saw was a man who watched at her with more interest than a man should have in a married woman. Truth be known, with his dark good looks devoid of the predatory look she saw on so many men she had met out west, she found him far too interesting than was right and proper for a married woman. The thought crossed her mind that it was too bad her pa hadn’t chosen this man for her.

  “Mrs. Dodd, I don’t have any expectations attached to my offer. With you being new in town, I just figured I’d be neighborly.”

  Beth looked away as she considered the man’s words. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. Trying to conserve food, she hadn’t eaten since that morning, and then she had only nibbled at half a hardtack wafer with some tea. She dr
eaded going back out in the cold alone to continue her search for her husband. She looked back up, and captivated by his dark eyes, decided she would let Val Caldwell escort her.

  Besides, if she found that low-down skunk she was married to while in the company of a handsome rancher, maybe Jim Dodd would get the message that some men considered his wife of value. She nodded her agreement.

  Val took Beth’s valise and moved aside to let her step through the livery office door ahead of him. With a light touch to the back of her waist, he guided her toward the freight sleigh where he tossed her valise behind the bench. He took her hand to help her up. Just as she raised her foot to climb the first step, she glanced at the two mules still hitched up. Placing both feet back on the ground, she turned forward and stared.

  “What you got on them hooves?”

  Val followed her stare to the circles of plate iron about ten inches in diameter he had attached to the mules’ shoes and started laughing. “Snowshoes for horses. They do help the animals get through the deep snow, but mules don’t take to them as well as horses and horses aren’t real partial to them.”

  “I would reckon not. Ain’t no puzzle your mule went and throwed a shoe. It’s a wonder they all didn’t plumb revolt on you and do the same.”

  Val continued laughing. “Not for the want of trying. Come, Mrs. Dodd. Let’s get you up. My first stop is the Central Market. If you stay in Lundy for any length of time, you will probably become very familiar with that store.”

  Beth settled next to Val on the bench seat. She turned her head toward him slightly to catch the scent of him. Although it wasn’t as strong out in the cold air as it had been when they had been inside, she could still detect it. He smelled of farm and hay and animals. She suspected many people she had met recently would wrinkle their noses at the smell. But, to Beth, it brought back memories of home. It appealed to her much more than the bitter smell of metals and explosives or the alkaline dirt that clung to most of the miners she had met.