Bridgeport Holiday Brides (Eastern Sierra Brides 1884 Book 5) Read online

  Hazel had refused to dwell on the realization that she was all by herself in Beth’s house, away from everything she had known. She made sure her valise was packed with what she would need for her time in Bridgeport. She had fed and watered the chickens early. Except for breakfast cooking on the stove, she was ready to leave.

  Hazel pulled open the door before Luther had a chance to knock. Suddenly, shyness descended upon her. “Hello, Luther,” she said quietly. “Come on in. I got some breakfast goin’ if you can eat.”

  Luther laughed and took off his hat. “I already ate once, but I can always eat again.” He walked over to Hazel and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before he slid into the chair she motioned him toward. “Beth dropped off the clothes you mended, but I told her I would bring you the money so you would have it while you were in town. This looks good enough to eat, Hazel.”

  “Hope so. I ain’t no cook like Beth. But, I got some eggs scrambled and flapjacks almost done. Oh, I better check them afore they get burnt.” Hazel raced back to the stove and flipped the pancakes that were a little darker than what she normally liked. She opened the door to the firebox and banked the fire so it would die out while they were gone.

  “Take your time, Hazel. We don’t have as far to go as Beth and Val do. I already took care of my horse. It will do him good to rest here until I get back.”

  Hazel set two plates with the eggs and pancakes on the table. She then reached on the shelf for an almost-empty jar of jam, which she placed next to Luther’s plate. After a quick blessing on the food, she picked up her fork. “I was right pleased when I got here to see Bethie had a horse and wagon.”

  Luther laughed. “You know how she got it, don’t you?”

  “Can’t rightly say. Beth never said nothin’ about it.”

  “Both the horse and wagon came from the Caldwell Ranch. I don’t need to tell you how stubborn your sister can be about some things, do I, Hazel? No offense intended.” Luther spread some jam on his cakes and then shoved the jar toward Hazel.

  “No, I know how Bethie can be. But, she means well, Luther. And she’s got her reasons.”

  “Yeah, I know things haven’t gone smooth for her. But as for the horse and wagon, once we moved her down here, Val didn’t want her to be alone without a way to get around. She kept insisting she’d get a horse and wagon when she got money ahead, but would get by on her own two feet in the meantime. She was bound and determined she would not rely on Val.”

  “Appears to me he don’t leave her alone all that much. He’s been here most every day, except when he was up to Lundy.”

  “Don’t I know it? Good I know how to run the ranch as well as he does. Anyway, he finally convinced her for the convenience of the ranch, he’d leave the horse and wagon here so she can transport the food she makes for us to the ranch instead of us having to send one of the men here to get it. We provide the hay and feed. In exchange for her feeding and caring for the horse, and taking her time to bring the food to us, she has full use of the horse and wagon any time she wants. That way, she can visit neighbors or go into town.” Luther rolled his eyes and shook his head. “My brother sure loves Beth, but she doesn’t make it easy for him.”

  Not to mention she gets after me every time I open my mouth.

  Hazel took her last bite of food and excused herself. As she walked toward the sideboard where Beth kept her dry sink, she said, “You got to understand, Luther, until she found Val, Bethie ain’t had no luck at all with men, startin’ with our own Pa. Pa, he loved us girls, but he was still of a mind that women don’t got no business runnin’ a farm by themselves, even though Bethie had been doin’ it for years, ever since he come down with the consumption. When he sold out to Jim Dodd, it forced Bethie to marry the man so she had a place to live, plus take care of Pa and me. Pa lived long enough he saw the error of his ways, but it was too late for Beth. I reckon you done got an earful about Jim Dodd. He wasn’t no prize.”

  “Oh, I know about him. I helped bury him. That was the day Val convinced Beth they should be engaged.”

  Luther wrinkled his forehead with worry lines as he handed his plate to Hazel to wash. “Hazel, the one thing that frustrates Val is Beth is so independent she doesn’t seem to trust him. I’m starting to care deeply for you, but I’m wondering if you think the same way as your sister. If we decide to—well, if we continue to get closer—are you going to insist on being so independent you won’t accept help that’s offered? Am I always going to have to figure out ways to keep the account books between us balanced in order to make things work between us? I would hope as you grow to know me better you will feel like you can trust me.”

  “I hope I can trust you, Luther. Reckon I already do pretty much. And, it ain’t Bethie don’t trust Val. She just don’t like bein’ in a bad fix because of men makin’ choices for her without her havin’ no say-so. Thanks to Pa first, then Jim Dodd, men controllin’ her life ain’t always worked out good for her.”

  Hazel drew hot water out of the stove’s reservoir so she could wash dishes. Luther left the table and walked over so he stood behind her. Hazel continued. “I don’t never want to be in no fix like that, neither, Luther. I mean, I was when I first come here, what with Abner Sweeney havin’ all the money my guardian give for my trip, then not doin’ what he said he would because he wanted somethin’ from me I wasn’t willin’ to give. Reckon it worked out all right for me, you bein’ willin’ to bring me to Bethie. But I was relyin’ on your charity, just like I was relyin’ on Mr. and Mrs. Leavitt’s charity when I was stuck in Bridgeport with no friends and no money to even pay for vittles or my room. Reckon most men like to keep women dependin’ on them, by them keepin’ all the money and makin’ all the decisions, so women don’t got no choices at all. It ain’t no way to earn a woman’s trust, Luther. When it comes to that, I think more like Bethie.”

  Luther reached for a dishtowel and finished drying the dishes Hazel had set to drain on the counter. As she pointed out where they went, he put them away.

  “Hazel, you remember what I told you the day I brought you here? However they do things back east, in California, men value good women.”

  “Men think right smart about their horses, too, Luther. Men like women to have their young’uns and keep their houses, but it don’t mean they figure a woman’s got no sense. They don’t pay women nothin’ for their work around the house, so they don’t figure women are worth nothin’. They think women are a burden they got to care for. I don’t want to be no burden, Luther. Like Bethie, I want to know I can always go my own way if I can’t depend on the men in my life.”

  Luther turned Hazel around and wrapped his arms around her. “Hazel, you would never be a burden. I’m so sorry you had to deal with someone like Mr. Sweeney. I’m well aware some men abuse women because they are stronger than women. I don’t think it’s right, but it’s a danger women face. That is exactly the kind of thing I want to protect you from.”

  “But, that’s why men think they have the right to control everything women do, Luther.”

  “Only when it comes to keeping their families safe. There are a lot of things women do for men, and maybe we don’t always give them the appreciation they deserve. I know it made a big difference to our house when my mother died. We didn’t realize it all right away, because Barbara took over. But, when she married and left, Val and I really felt the loss then. You have no idea how much Val looks forward to Beth being fully a part of the family, and maybe you—if it works out between us—to bring to the family only those good things women can.”

  Hazel picked up her coat, the one she had been given second-hand while she was still back in Ohio. She handed it to Luther for him to help her into it. “You figure things won’t work out for us, Luther?”

  Luther turned her around and tipped her chin to she looked directly into his eyes. “Hazel, I’ve pretty much made up my mind about wanting you for a wife. I’m just giving you time to be sure you won’t regret it if you choose me fo
r a husband.”

  “We ain’t known each other but a week or so, Luther. How can you be so sure?”

  “What little we’ve known each other, Hazel, we’ve talked about some serious matters and done business together. And let’s not forget the way you fit right into my arms and can kiss me until I forget how to think. And, the way you went along with that joke I pulled on Beth by covering you with your quilt, even when you realized it was your sister you hadn’t seen in a year I was teasing. That, alone, told me a lot about you, sweetheart.”

  Hazel’s eyes sparkled and her lips curled into an impish grin. “That there was the best fun I’d had in a spell, Luther. Bethie’s still fussin’ about it.” Then Hazel grew serious. “Luther, you think before we light on out of here you could give me one of them kisses like before? We probably ain’t goin’ have no chance for one in town, what with people around and all.”

  Luther broke into a big grin. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Hazel’s back and pulled her to him. She lifted her arms around his neck and rose on her tip-toes as her lips met his. The world around them disappeared as they became aware of only each other. All the serious concerns they had discussed seemed to fade away as if by magic.

  All Hazel was aware of was how Luther’s kiss warmed her, and how protected and treasured she felt in his arms.

  Luther could barely think at all, other than he knew he wanted this woman for his wife—sooner rather than later. His brother Val may have agreed to an engagement for almost a year, but Luther sincerely hoped Hazel would not make him wait that long.

  BRIDGEPORT, CALIFORNIA – NOVEMBER 1884

  CHAPTER 4

  Hazel could not help but compare how this day’s travel into Bridgeport differed from the first time she came to this city. Her first arrival had been when it was almost night, on a day already dark with rain. The stagecoach on which she had been traveling with her chaperone, Abner Sweeney—a man who proved that night Hazel would have been safer traveling alone—had entered the town from the north.

  On this cold but sunny day with the sun high above the eastern mountains, she and Luther drove in from the west. With her coat and woolen scarf protecting her from the cool breeze, the day felt glorious to her.

  Havin’ Luther next to me might have somethin’ to do with this trip bein’ right excitin’.

  Luther’s words interrupted her thoughts. “Hazel, do you want to go straight to the Leavitt House and get settled in?”

  “Ain’t sure, Luther. I can tell you what I figure on doin’ and you can help me work out what to do first.”

  “All right. Although, I will warn you, stopping for dinner will be one of the first things we will do.”

  Hazel grinned at Luther’s remark about eating soon. “I figure on sendin’ a telegram to Judge Bates back in Ohio, and I best see if the general store has some wool that’s fittin’ for makin’ winter dresses for me and Beth. Then, I’d like to go to the cemetery. Are your people buried here in town, Luther?”

  Luther shook his head. “No, we have a family cemetery out on the Caldwell Ranch. My family has been around since this area was known as Big Meadows. There wasn’t a town of Bridgeport yet, so we started burying our dead out on our place. So far, we haven’t seen any reason to change that.”

  “You reckon since she’s marryin’ Val that’s where Bethie will be buried, out on the Caldwell buryin’ place?”

  “Yes. Both my parents are there, as well as my father’s first wife, Edwin’s mother. Whether or not my sister Barbara will be buried there depends on her husband or children, but I imagine both Val and I will end up there, along with Beth.” He didn’t say so, but Luther planned on having Hazel buried out there, too.

  “You know where the buryin’ place is here in Bridgeport, then?”

  “Sure. I have friends buried there. I’ll take you.” Luther paused. “Who are you looking for, Hazel? With you being so new in town, I wouldn’t think you would know anyone from here.”

  “Charlotte Johansson. Mrs. Leavitt told me they buried her here and the family paid for a stone. I hear tell Mr. Johansson was buried up towards Lundy.”

  “Probably at the near side of the lake across from Lundy in a place called Geneva. It’s the same place we buried your late brother-in-law, Jim Dodd.”

  “Oh. I reckon folks up there didn’t know Swen Johansson none. They ain’t put no marker on his grave, so the family added his name to Charlotte’s stone here in Bridgeport.”

  Luther studied Hazel, a puzzled look on his face. “Hazel, this Charlotte Johansson, she’s the one they call the White Lady, right? She’s the ghost that supposedly haunts one of the rooms at the Leavitt House?”

  Hazel turned to look Luther in the face and smiled. “Ain’t no supposin’ about it, Luther. I done spent the night visitin’ with her.”

  Luther forced himself to keep a straight face. He resisted his inclination to shake his head in disbelief. “What do you plan to do, Hazel? Ask to stay in the same room you did last time, the one they say is haunted?”

  “Not if there ain’t no need. If Leavitts ain’t too crowded, I’ll stay in another room so I don’t put Charlotte out none. But I already told Charlotte I’d stop by for a spell to visit when I come to town. She said she’d like that right fine.”

  Luther shut his eyes for a minute and slid this index finger and thumb down each side of his mouth until they met beneath his bottom lip. He already loved Hazel dearly. However, he wasn’t sure what to make of her belief that the ghost story about the White Lady who supposedly haunted one of the rooms at the Leavitt House was based on a real person, and that she had actually seen and talked to said ghost. “I don’t know if it will do any good, Hazel, but I’ll take you to the cemetery.”

  After lunch at Leavitt’s, the two first went to the mercantile. Hazel had just enough money to purchase enough royal blue wool cloth along with buttons, lace and thread to make a dress for Beth.

  While Hazel did her shopping, Luther casually looked at the jewelry available, doing his best to not show much interest. The last thing he wanted was to get tongues in town wagging about his plans to ask Hazel to marry him. He decided he needed to make a trip to Carson City to see about a ring.

  When Luther saw Hazel only bought enough for one dress, he asked if she needed more money to buy something for herself, she shook her head. “Ain’t seen nothin’ that suits me, Luther. Best I wait to see what they get in the next time I’m in town.”

  Hazel asked Luther to take her by the bank so she could find out the name of who to send her money to in order to open an account. The clerk kept trying to discuss it with Luther, but after his talk with Hazel that morning, Luther had enough sense to stand back and tell the man he needed to discuss it with Hazel.

  The next stop was the telegraph office.

  “Reckon you can run an errand if you’ve a mind to, Luther. This may take me some time.”

  Luther raised an eyebrow. Whatever Hazel wanted to send in a telegram, she obviously did not want him privy to it. He stepped away and found a friend to talk to while he waited.

  Hazel wrote out her telegram several times before she was satisfied. Several times, she glanced behind her to make sure Luther was busy enough to not be paying attention to her or what she wrote. Once she was ready, she handed the paper to the telegraph operator. He raised an eyebrow, but told her the price, then sent her message on its way.

  The last stop was the cemetery. They were the only ones visiting that day. Luther led Hazel to the entry, then followed at a respectful distance as she slowly walked down the rows and read the headstones. After searching over half of the cemetery, Hazel stopped in front of one of the stones. Her lips moved silently as she read the inscription more than once. Luther walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. He shook his head as he read about the Johansson family, all of whom died in March, 1882.

  “Look, Luther. They got her name and Swen’s name on there, but not Susannah’s. It just says ‘and infant.’ I k
now full well Charlotte named her Susannah.”

  Luther wrinkled his head with concern, not for the omission of the baby’s name, but for Hazel’s interest in the White Lady. “Maybe she didn’t tell anyone the baby’s name before she died.”

  “Mrs. Leavitt said she done told the midwife. Reckon the family didn’t talk to the midwife.”

  Luther waited patiently until Hazel turned to leave. It was time to take her to the Leavitt’s so he could go back to Beth’s house and check on her chickens. He shivered with the realization that a headstone with the name of the ghost Hazel had told him about, along with the name of her husband, did exist in the Bridgeport cemetery.

  LUNDY, CALIFORNIA – NOVEMBER 1884

  CHAPTER 5

  “Beth!”

  Beth turned at the sound of Louisa calling to her, her voice full of surprise and happiness. Louisa stood outside the back door of the chop shop her husband, Gus Herschel, had run in the back of The Arcade Saloon. Beth ran over to her and the two women embraced.

  “Right pleased to see you, Louisa. Where’s Sophie Anne?”

  “She’s inside taking her morning nap in Gus’s old bedroom nook while Gus and I finish packing up the last of our supplies. Although, how she can sleep through all the commotion, I don’t know.”

  “Reckon Val and Hank will be loadin’ it in the wagon first thing in the mornin’.”

  “That would probably be best. So many drifters here, they might steal it out of the wagon. It probably would be safer locked inside. Gus has everything we’re taking in crates and barrels so we can load everything fast.” Louisa paused. “You said Hank. Didn’t Luther come? And, what about your sister? They told me she found her own way to California. Is she with you?”

  “Val ain’t pleased about me comin’, but I told him I got business in Lundy. We both figured it best we not drag Hazel up this time of year, not to mention there ain’t room for her. Left her in Bridgeport at the Leavitt House. Luther stayed behind to tend my chickens.”