black falcon 10 part 3 delivering the females

 sorry to be tardy, my sleeping is a bit all over the place

10 Delivering the Females part 3

 

Luke reflected, with some grim humour, that many drifters like himself would have taken the job as bodyguard to mail order brides for the pay, which was not high, but was probably fairly safe. He was spending more to keep them safe than they were paying him, especially since he intended to hire two cabins in a Pullman car for the four day journey west. On reflection, Luke decided to board Blackwind at a livery stable in Cheyenne, rather than take the poor beast on a long, unnecessary journey, mewed up in the caboose. 

“You haven’t checked your guns, sir,” said the hotelier of the Union Pacific Depot and Hotel, when Luke approached the desk.

“Here’s my exception,” said Luke. Sam Stubbins had registered him as a bodyguard, countersigned by Miss Compton. “I showed all my documentation to the Rail Marshal on the way in.”

“Very good, sir,” said the hotelier. “A room?”

“Two rooms, one to accommodate three women,” said Luke. “I’ll take your two dollar room with breakfast for myself.”

“A double room and a single....”

“A room for three; you can surely set up a trundle bed of some kind for the ladies’ duenna?” said Luke.

“I... I suppose so,” said the hotelier.

“Good, make it adjacent to mine. I’ll pay you three dollars, same as for a double and a single, with breakfast. And you’ll have the single to hire out.”

“We could take the seventy-five cent rooms,” ventured Miss Compton. “And find somewhere doing cheap breakfasts...”

“You could, but you won’t, because I need to be near you and I’ll be damned if I sleep in a seventy-five cent room,” said Luke.

“Three dollars fifty,” said the hotelier, rapidly.

“Done,” said Luke. “I have been, but I’m not about to quibble too much.”

The cheap rooms were at the back, overlooking the shunting yard, and were noisy. There were several tracks laid on the cleared dirt grade, and Luke also made sure to work out which one would carry the train they would need.

Luke was thankful that the Union Pacific had signed a contract with Pullman that very year. The sleeping accommodation he had seen before was basic, each cabin had three bunk beds, provided with mattresses but not always other bed linen. There was a wash-basin, and a wood-fired stove for warmth, but the difference in comfort in being able to sleep lying flat was well worth it. He was glad that there would be separate sleeping carriages and a restaurant car, rather than a hotel carriage, which was a closed carriage in which those whose beds opened up above the seating would also be accommodated to dine; the separation of sleeping and dining gave more privacy.

Luke made a foray to the booking office.

“There are three ladies booked by telegraph, I believe,” he said. “I want to upgrade them to Pullman sleeping accommodation, and hire another whole cabin for the four days to the furthest stop.

“That’s an extra two dollars per bunk per day on top,” said the clerk. “One lady for one day, another two dollars, two ladies for four days, sixteen dollars. And sixteen dollars for yourself plus the sixteen dollars train fare.”

Luke frowned.

“Shouldn’t a three-berth cabin be more?” he asked.

“Our cabins are two-berth,” said the clerk.

“Then one lady need not top up because they will want to stay together,” said Luke.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged the clerk. “A total of forty-two dollars.”

Luke extracted four ten-dollar bills and two single bills. It was worth it to make sure they were safe at night, and that he was well rested; and if there were no sheets, they had their bedrolls. He planned to eat in the Pullman restaurant car at a dollar a meal, plus whatever drink he bespoke; if the women wanted to dash out to eating houses for a nickel meal of indifferent stew with bread rather than eat in comfort, that was up to them. In their shoes, he would have bought one full restaurant meal between three, smuggling out the greater part of it to the sleeping cabin for the other two, but it was up to them to work that one out. They were only destitute from the point of view of the middle classes, not by the lights of those to whom two dollars represented a day’s wage.

 

The ladies huddled together to dine, but were glad to be sharing a room.  Luke slept well and deeply and was up early to chivy them to breakfast, ready to catch their train at 8-30.

It was a long train, and Luke noted the number of their Pullman car to hustle the ladies aboard. An easterner was complaining about how his trunk was handled.

“That trunk cost more than you earn in a month,” he brayed, nasally at the black porter.

That was believable; it was a leather-covered thing of beauty.

“Big enough to store a body in it,” said Luke, cheerfully. The braying Easterner looked at him reproachfully.

“That, sirrah, is not funny,” he said.

“It is from where I’m standing,” said Luke. “And nice claret-coloured leather so it doesn’t show if it leaks.”

The Easterner, a tall and gangling fellow, went puce.

“You have a damned nasty sense of humour,” he said.

“Why, yes; but I have my faults as well,” said Luke.

“Mr. Sokolov, please don’t play with your prey,” said Miss Compton.

Luke bowed to her, flashing her his most engaging smile. She did have a sense of humour in there.

“Pray, ladies, allow me,” he said, handing each of them up, and slipping some coins to the white-coated porter who helped with their meagre luggage.

“I’m your steward, sah,” said the man, a grizzled negro in his fifties.

“Well, that’s splendid,” said Luke. “What do we call you?”

“Mos’ folks call us porters ‘George’ after Mr. Pullman. But mah name’s Albert,” said the porter.

“An excellent name; one my brother has as a middle name,” said Luke. “Albert! I have three ladies in one two-person apartment, what can be done about it? It’s only for one night.”

“Well, sah, the lounge converts to a bedroom, one sofa and a fold-down bed, but I can find another chair and footstool to go with those in there. It’ll be a little cramped, but... why, thank you, sah!” Luke slipped him three dollars.  A grateful porter was worth his weight in gold. And Luke was willing to pay more than the railroad charged for sleeping, in order to keep the ladies together and purchase good will.

“You can use the furniture from my cabin next door,” suggested Luke. Albert grinned a very white grin at this, which would make his life easier than hoping one compartment was unoccupied.

The Pullman carriage had a corridor along it, and was divided into several compartments, each with their own toilet, with walnut wood fittings, red velvet, and gilded baroque decoration. There was a deep pile carpet on the floor, and the toilet was decorated with marble.

“Heating?” Luke asked Albert.

“Underfloor hot air, sah,” said Albert.

“Admirable,” said Luke.  “How nice to have the joins between carriages covered!” he indicated the concertina joins between carriages.

“Yes, sah, Mr. Pullman invented the vestibule carriage as well,” said Albert.

“A clever man,” said Luke.

“Yes, sah; and he hires us and the carriages out, rather than sell them,” said Albert.

“Oh, a man of sagacity,” said Luke.

 

“This is such an adventure,” said Florence, when Luke came to visit the ladies in their parlour. “But how are we going to sleep, all of us?”

“Albert has it in hand,” said Luke. “Now enjoy fancy trimmings and feeling like royalty.” He left them to decide which would sleep on a makeshift bed, and settled out to prowl the corridor and find out where the dining carriage was.

 

 

The dining carriage was right in front of their own sleeper; and breakfast was being served. Luke decided that a second breakfast would not come amiss, and settled down to order a meal. The hotel breakfast had consisted of waffles, toast and jelly, and Luke was still hungry.  He was delighted to have a proper breakfast of eggs, bacon, fried potato cubes, mushrooms and baked beans followed by pancakes dripping with maple syrup, and as much toast with jelly as he wished, with hot coffee in a pot, and a small creamer and sugar bowl to add as much or as little as he wished.

Luke had barely finished growing, and he wished for both.

 

He returned to find the ladies chatting, sewing, and looking out of the window, all in turns.

“There’s a dining car if anyone wishes to partake,” he said. “It’s a dollar a meal.”

“I think,” said Florence, “I should like to try it at least once, to be able to boast about it if need be.”

“Yes, you only live once,” said Ella.

“Well...” said Miss Compton.

“I’ll stand you a meal, Miss Compton,” said Luke. “I suspect if you tip Albert, he’ll manage to make sandwiches from leftovers for other meals, rather than have to charge off the train and come back with cheeks stuffed like squirrels to be back on time.”

Miss Compton shuddered.

“And such rough company in such places too,” she said, wistfully.

“We’ll find a young lady going East to school for you to hire on as chaperone to, and have her parents pay for Pullman accommodation on the way back,” said Luke, cheerfully.

Miss Compton brightened.

“Do you think we can?” she asked.

“I’m sure I can find you a client,” said Luke, confidently.

 

Albert was delighted to put together a picnic basket for lunch; the leftovers were the perquisites of the porters, and what they dined on and what they sold was up to them.  Luke joined the ladies in paying a nickel each for what Albert had put together.

 

The scenery continued endless prairie; but the sun was setting ahead of the train filling the window as they veered at times with glorious colours of a prairie early winter sunset. Luke enjoyed the view.

“Dinner time, ladies,” he said, as Albert came in to alert them, with a menu to peruse. “Thank you, Albert. I’ll have the celery consomme, rather than the chicken on rice, the whitefish with Saratoga potatoes looks nice, and the chicken croquette aperitif with mushrooms, I prefer the roast beef to the roast turkey, how is the cauliflower cooked?”

“Boiled, sah,” said Albert. Luke pulled a face. “Ma cooks them deep fried in batter,” he said. “Go easy on the cauliflower, then, string beans and mashed potato, fine. I’m not touching lobster salad, thank you, not on a journey, I’ll have wild dreams all night. I’ll stick with ice-cream, fruit of the season, and a cheese board.  We’ll have a bottle of California Reisling with the soup and fish, German Hock is no better, these days.  Ladies, will you be having beef or turkey?”

“It’s almost Thanksgiving; we’ll soon be sick of turkey,” said Ella. “We’ll have what you recommend, and that makes it easier for Albert, too,” she added.

Albert flashed her a grateful smile.

“Then a nice Chambertin with the beef,” said Luke. “I’ll finish with the ’42 cognac, do you ladies want crème de menthe, or anisette or anything of that kind?”

“I’d as soon finish with a nice cup of tea,” said Miss Compton.

“A big pot of tea, then, as well to finish,” said Luke.

Albert opened his mouth to mention that tea was not usually served with dinner, and shut it again. He’d been well tipped; he’d make tea himself if he had to.

 

The dinner was delicious, and Luke considered it well worth the cost. It made a change to be waited on, and to have someone else do the cooking! He took himself to the back of the train to enjoy a quiet pipe under the big and starry prairie sky, and then, contented, went back to his cabin, where Albert was sorting out his bed.

“I used the bedlinen from the other bed here, sah, for Miss, as you’ve paid for it,” he said.

“Good thinking,” said Luke. “It certainly will beat sleeping through a sleety squall under a pine branch roof.”

“Goodness, sah, yes,” agreed Albert. “Not what I’d like to do.”

“It would have been worse if I didn’t know what to do,” said Luke.  “This is a holiday, and I mean to enjoy it; but I like the outdoor life.”

“Not for me, sah,” said Albert.

“It’s not for everyone,” said Luke, tipping him again.

 

Black Falcon 10 part 2 delivering the females

 

10 Delivering the females part 2

 

 

The cavalcade set off early, following the line of bluffs and staying near the small river. The women did not have the stamina to ride for as long or as hard as Luke considered normal, but he took the rear, permitting them to take the lead. Miss Compton set the pace, and Luke suppressed a sigh that they would be unlikely to manage more than fifteen miles a day. He had planned to hurry them across five or six miles of open prairie to a sheltering butte to camp overnight, but as he was pointing it out to the ladies, an Indian appeared out, it seemed, of nowhere. Luke was used to the stealthy way of his Cherokee friends and quickly made the peace sign, as several of the ladies squealed in shock.

“Two-Moons no make trouble,” said the man, a Cheyenne, Luke thought.

“You feel the weather,” said Luke. “We were going to cross to the butte over there.”

“No have time,” said Two-Moons. “Two-Moons watch how fast white women ride. Storm hit, one, two hours most.”

“Fine; there’s a good camp site here,” said Luke. “Will you join us?”

Two-Moons grunted.

“Two-Moons some way from camp,” he admitted. “I help; you pay much wampum?”

“Five dollars,” said Luke.

“Done,” said Two-Moons.

“Right, ladies,” said Luke, “Two-moons and I will fell that line of pine trees to lay against the cliff in that blind valley; those of you who know how to use a hatchet, take off the inner branches as we get each one down, and lay them on the floor.  We have blankets on the pack animals to go on top of that. I’ll light a fire at the blind end of the valley to cook on and keep us warm, and the horses will have to make do with the other end. Those of you who cannot use hatchets, take off the tack and have it ready to bring inside. I’ve tarpaulins for the shelter, and some firewood, but any extra you can forage is good.”

Luke plied a felling-axe, having handed one to Two-Moons as well, making a good notch on the side of the trunk facing the bluff, and then cutting on the other side until they fell to lodge against the wall of the mesa. He noticed that both Emma and Ida worked with a will in taking off branches facing inward to lay them on the floor.

“That fine-looking squaw. She for sale?” asked Two-Moons.

“Sold already,” said Luke. “All the women are going to husbands.” He considered. “I don’t like the sound of her husband, mind you; give her a week or two and she might be willing to go with you.”

“Uhm,” grunted Two-Moons, thoughtfully. “Not now?”

“She signed a contract,” said Luke.”

Two-Moons nodded.

“Please, sir, why are you called ‘Two-Moons?” asked Ida.

“Two-Moons mother start birthing during one moon, and birth one sickly child who die,” said Two-Moons. “Next moon, Two-Moons born, and thrive.”

“Goodness, how unsettling for your poor mother,” said Ida. “I am glad you survived; thank you for helping us.”

“How long will the storm be, do you think?” asked Luke.

Two-Moons considered.

“The day round, likely,” he said.

“Not as bad as the three-day blizzard,” said Luke.  “But we’ll want some home comforts.” He took his spade and dug out a rough cave in the bluff, just outside the shelter and dug a hole in the floor of the small cave. A rough door woven of springy branches gave some privacy.

“I hope one of you ladies has a newspaper,” said Luke. “Miss Compton, perhaps you can cut such a newspaper into squares.”

“Yes, of course,” said Miss Compton, blushing. “Very good of you... so practical.”

Luke finished fastening tarpaulins over the slanting tree trunks after having interlinked the outer branches to make a thicker, warmer covering, partially cutting through some to bend them. It would be dark and not terribly pleasant within, but it was shelter, and enough to keep them alive.

“Here, Ida, you take this oldest horse blanket and tear it into strips,” said Luke. “I’m going to get a hot meal into us, but the storm will likely put out the fire. If you wrap the stones from the edge of the fire in blanket pieces, each of you ladies can hold on to it to keep a bit warmer.”

The horses must just lie down and endure under the far end of the shelter, such as it was; but horses could endure cold better than humans, especially if not too wet. And the pine branches should keep off the worst of the wet.  If there was snow it would fill the crevices.

Luke got on with cooking, as the wind rose, and carried in the cookpot as the first spiteful lash of hail hit him. Everyone could at least get a hot meal before it started, and they all ate pork and beans. The ladies would either have to fart discreetly or put up with men hearing them do so, thought Luke. They must huddle together in their bed-rolls, and he grinned to find that Ida had elected to be on the outside, next to him. Technically, Miss Compton should be guarding her charges with her body, but she was at the furthest distance she could get. Luke managed not to snigger.

“You and I will take turns on the outside,” he said to Two-Moons. Two-Moons grunted agreement.

It was cold, but they were sheltered from the wind, and the fitful sleet did not become heavy rain or snow. Luke woke to find Ida assisting Two-Moons in building a rough fireplace of stone and chimney of sticks slathered with sandy mud. Two-Moons soon had a fire going, and Ida came in the shelter, shivering.

“Get that wet coat off, and leave it the horses side,” said Luke. “I’ll turn the other way so you can change your skirt, and hang that one up.”

Ida did so, and Luke rose to wrap her in his own blanket, still warm from his body. He held her tightly to him until she stopped shivering.

“Mr. Sokolov, what are you doing to my sister?” asked Emma, sharply, having awoken.

“Trying to get her warm. Here, bring your blanket to wrap her and hug her the other side,” said Luke. “She went out to help Two-Moons, but there’s not enough meat on her bones to keep her warm.”

“Oh... I’m sorry. A comment like that is definitely not one of a man romancing a girl,” said Emma.

“Not that you’d know, having settled for Nathaniel,” said Ida, in a rather muffled way against Luke’s chest.

“I wish you’ll let me look at your contract,” said Luke. “There might be a way to break it.”

“What makes you think I want to break it?” said Emma.

“I can’t say that he sounds like a man to make you happy,” said Luke.

“I don’t need to be happy; I can manage with contented, so long as Ida has a roof over her head, and food, and schooling,” said Emma.

“I’d still take you to my parents to care for, if the contract could be broken,” said Luke.

“Mr. Sokolov, I do not accept charity,” said Emma, stiffly. “I’ve made a contract, and it will give Ida a home.”

Luke raised a single, derisive, eyebrow.

“I fancy it will give Ida a dwelling-place,” he said.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” said Emma.

“No, ma’am. You said it would give Ida a home. A dwelling-place is not a home; and a home need not be a dwelling place. I wouldn’t let any of my sisters go to a man like that, who demands that a child be dressed in the sort of cheap, uncomfortable clothing they provide in orphan asylums, nor to fail to provide her or you with pretty geegaws.”

“Well, it’s not your sister, Mr. Sokolov, so it’s none of your business,” said Emma. “The child is warm enough now; you can have your blanket back.” She whisked off towards the necessary cave.

“She’s mad because she knows you’re right,” said Ida. “But she’s that stubborn! Well, so am I, but... but I think she’s hiding that she’s scared.”

“I agree,” said Luke. “Try not to irritate Nathaniel too much.”

“I’ll try,” said Ida.

“And for Pete’s sake, keep your dungarees and shirt hidden; if you have a rail to hang things, hang them inside the gown you ain’t wearing,” suggested Luke.

Ida beamed.

“How clever!” she said.

“If you do get work, put them on under your loosest gown and make as if going into town. Take a basket, and you can change in a public necessary in the railway station,” said Luke.

“You know a lot,” said Ida.

“Yes, because I’m a lot older than you,” said Luke. “You’re much of an age with my next sister down, Kalina Millicent; she’s a pretty good brother of a sister for a man to have, but she still has much to learn.”

“Tell me about your sisters. Do you have brothers?”

“My oldest sibling is my brother, Daniel. His other names are Alfred Henry, after the Prince of Wales and Sir Henry Hardinge, who were my papa’s patrons in England, where Mama comes from. Alice is older than me, and she’s married to the son of the Cherokee chief. He’s my brother’s friend but he also taught me a lot. Leaping-Wolf is his name. Then it’s me, and after me, Kalina, Vasilika, and Kyrilla. Vasilika is a couple of years younger than you, and dark-haired like me; all my other siblings have red hair. And Kyrilla is only ten.”

“You speak with warmth; it must be a happy home,” said Ida, wistfully.

“It is,” said Luke. “Mama met Papa when she was with the famous nurse, Florence Nightingale. My father was one of a subject people of the Russians, forced to fight the English and French, with whom we had no quarrel. But Mama came to nurse some of our people, and saved their lives. And they fell in love, and decided to come to America instead, as England felt too crowded. And we are happy.”

“I wish Emma was not so stubborn,” sighed Ida. “I am sure I could work hard enough for it not to be charity.”

“I’m sure you would help Kalina and do a day’s work as well as she can,” said Luke. “Possibly she works harder than this Nathaniel will make you work, but when it’s done for love, and there is joy, and music, and stories and laughter when the work is done, it is easier than when it is forced. But perhaps Nathaniel is not as hard as he sounds.”

“Perhaps,” said Ida, dubiously.

 

The bitter weather blew itself out over the day, but it was too late to move on; and Luke decreed that they might as well stay snug.  Two-Moons’s fireplace had worked well enough to have a fire during the day, and to have hot food. Luke had made a hash with oatmeal, cornmeal, corned beef and baked beans which had gone down well enough. Emma chattered apparently gaily and inconsequentially.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” said Luke. “And if you’d rather marry than be a pensioner of my parents, Two-Moons admires you greatly.”

“I... no!” said Emma, horrified.

Luke shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “But have at least a thought for Ida.”

“I am thinking of Ida!” snapped Emma.

“Don’t be surprised, then, if it is your thought for her that cold-comfort farm is better than any other alternative, should she then turn her back on you for such a poor choice,” warned Luke. “I’ll be stopping off on my way back from delivering the other ladies, and if you’ve changed your mind, I’ll give you my escort.”

“Don’t bother,” said Emma, tossing her head.

“Fool of a woman,” growled Luke, sorting out his own bedding roll for their second night in the shelter.

 

They rose early.

“Two-Moons leave now,” said Two-Moons. “Will visit lovely squaw in new home in a moon’s time.”

“Thanks for that,” said Luke. “If Ida wants to leave, see her onto the train to Denver, and she can wire my parents.” Ida had the names Dmitro and Jane Levchenko, Little Zaporozhia, near Wray, Colorado, in her pocket book. She might write to Kalinka if nothing else.

“Why is your name different, Mr. Sokolov?” asked Ida.

“Oh, I took the surname meaning, ‘Falcon,’” said Luke. “Yes, for real, I am Luke Levchenko.”

“Ida!” Emma snapped. “Stop pestering Mr. Sokolov!”

“She isn’t,” said Luke. “We’re saying farewell to Two-Moons.”

Two-Moons nodded, and slid off, disappearing almost as quietly as he had appeared.

 

It was well into the afternoon when they reached the N-Bar-P ranch. A sour looking man with a rifle stopped them.

“This ain’t no right of way,” he said. “Clear off my land, you and your harlots.”

“Them’s fighting words for a man who should be rejoicing that his wife’s duenna hired a man as escort, if you happen to be Nathaniel Pepper,” said Luke, mildly. “But if you want to fight, perhaps you’ll marry her first, so she’s a widow and has somewhere to stay.”

“She’d better not have got up to any hanky-panky with you, if she knows what’s good for her. Which one is mine?” demanded Nathaniel Pepper.

“I’m Emma,” said Emma. “This is my sister, Ida. Mr. Sokolov has been very proper with us. There’s no need to fight.”

“Well, so he ought. What a weed that child is!” said Pepper. “I’ll thank you not to grow any more, brat, or you’ll be staying in the house if you show an inch of ankle.”

“I have wide hems to let down,” said Ida.

“Extravagance,” muttered Pepper. “Fine, you can be on your way.”

“What, not even offering to let us water the nags and take a drink at your well?  Are you a man or a mudsill, sir?”

Pepper went purple.

“You can let the nags drink and take a drink of water, and then get off my property,” he growled.

“And a fine afternoon to you, too,” said Luke, with heavy irony.  “As to myself, I’ll be back when the weed has grown enough to court. Her sister’s a hard worker, and a deputy sheriff like myself needs a wife who can hustle.”

“You will not; I’ll find her a husband myself,” said Pepper. He watched them suspiciously as they drank.

“Now, the ladies will want to use your outhouse,” said Luke, pleasantly.

“Why the hell should...” Pepper broke off as two guns appeared in Luke’s hands.

“Because I’m teaching you manners,” said Luke. “You need to know how to show any friends your wife makes to the facilities.”

“She don’t need no friends, she’ll be busy on the farm,” said Pepper.

“Oh, not even a mudsill,” said Luke. “Be careful, Pepper, the agency checks up on the women they help to match up. And they can afford lawyers if you treat her badly, because it’s not in their interests to have tales of unhappy women reaching other clients. It’s bad for business.”

Pepper scowled at him, but made no difficulty about the ladies using the necessary-house.

They rode out.

“I don’t think the agency does check up, Mr. Sokolov,” said Miss Compton, timidly.

“We don’t have to tell that nasty creature that, though, do we?” said Luke.

“You told a lie?” gasped Miss Compton.

“I most certainly did,” said Luke. “If it keeps that filthy po’ white trash’s hands off those girls I’ll take whatever time in Purgatory the Good Lord sees fit to give me for it.”

Miss Compton tutted, more over his devotion to a religion she considered deplorable, Luke thought, than over his cheerful lie.

She was happy to stick close to him, however, as were the other girls, when they rode into the bustling town of Cheyenne, and to permit him to arrange rooms in the hotel.

 

Black Falcon 10 part one Delivering the Females,

 First, some shocking news, we were getting some weight on Willow, but this morning it was all too much for her, and she had a seizure and just suddenly died. We are devastated as I am sure you can imagine. I am angry with the vets, but I don't want to get into any conversations about coulda, shoulda. It's done, and at least in her last few days she had the pleasure of sitting and walking in the garden, sniffing sniffs, watching the fledgling robins learn to fly, and catching some rays. 

I had been about to resume normal service anyway in posting. 

10 Delivering the females part 1

 

The mail came in, with a second driver, as Moses Burrell was still groggy. He was happy with the settlement Brad Chesterton had come up with, and if Chesterton had been embarrassed by his bounty hunter brother, he was not displeased to inherit the man’s wealth.

“Of course,” said Luke, in the saloon, when Chesterton was in there, “A man who makes a promise of marriage, especially in writing, to a girl, and then uses that to take her to his bed, and then discards her, is a man who could be sued for breach of promise when someone who understands the law hears the poor girl’s story.  Now, I think that the sort of settlement on that poor girl that would give her... oh, four hundred dollars a year in interest... would be a fair way of sorting out such perfidy, rather than having a man unexpectedly wealthy finding that half of everything he owns plus legal costs is stripped by lawyers. What do you think, Chesterton?”

Chesterton had gone grey.

“I think that could probably be the best solution, Sokolov,” he said, through gritted teeth.

“I’m so glad you agree with me,” said Luke. If he calculated it correctly it came close to half of the worth of the colonel on his death; but with the law involved, Chesterton might have had to sell his sheep ranch.

Taking a leaf out of Sam’s book and hitting the unpleasant man where it hurt him the most, in the pocket, was the best way to control him.

He noted that the mail order brides were still in the town, and had flocked to the marshal’s office after the next mail had come in, bringing the money for the bounty on Waller, which Luke handed over to Betsy, who kissed him firmly. She and her girls had been released as soon as the Killer Colonel had been killed, and had moved into the hotel, away from Carson’s saloon.

Betsy might be almost as old as Luke’s mother, but Luke quite enjoyed it. Betsy was an experienced armful and did not resemble his mother in the least. And there was nothing wrong with learning a trick or two from a willing woman, thought Luke, though he blushed scarlet at the woman’s attentions.

“Oh, he’s sweet!” said Carrie, making Luke blush still more.

He escaped back to the office.

“Ah, Luke,” said Sam. “How do you feel about a little travelling?”

“I thought I was staying here because travelling was risky?” said Luke, amused.

“Well, we should have some good weather for a while,” said Sam. “Long enough to deliver these four ladies, and Miss Ida, to their new homes. They’re nervous of going on without someone as an outrider to see they get there safely.”

“What, don’t you ladies trust the stage?” said Luke.

“We’ve had a bad experience so far,” said the stylish brunette, who looked almost as if she had left some eastern city that morning.

“Anna means that we got nervous,” said the strawberry blonde, her little sister, still in braids, nodding vigorously.

“I don’t mind riding a saddle horse to keep an eye out, and I can do some fancy shooting,” said the redhead. “My pa rode in rodeos until he broke his neck, and the manager wouldn’t let me take his place, the durn fool, so I fixed me up a beau out west who’s happy to have a ranch hand as a wife.”

“Ella’s been teaching us all to shoot,” murmured the blonde, who looked fragile, but reminded Luke of his mother. “But we’d as soon have a man we know can protect us well.”

“Well, if you’re sure, Sam, I guess I can handle that,” said Luke. “I won’t be delivering the mails, I’ll be delivering the females,” he winked at Ida with such an awful pun.

“Oh, good!” said Ida. “I guess we’ll feel safe with you, won’t we, Emma?” she appealed to her sister.

“I’ll want to know where each of you is headed, and consult the map,” said Luke. “Not all at once! Ma’am, perhaps you can tell me,” he turned to the older woman who was acting as duenna for the ladies. “Miss, uh...?”

“Compton; Diana Compton,” said the duenna, a thin, colourless woman. “Anna is the next stop of the stage. Then we were going to have to hire horses for Emma and young Ida, but their destination isn’t far from a railway. So the last part of the journey will be in relative comfort.”

“We’ll be taking a pack pony as well as hire horses for that stage,” said Luke, looking at the map. “I want to be sure to be able to camp at need if the weather is bad.”

“You’re the guide,” said Miss Compton.

Luke nodded. It would make life easier if Miss Compton deferred to his judgement.

“So, you’ve all been writing to your intended husbands?” he asked.

“Yes, and made an arrangement with them,” said the dark-haired girl, Anna. “My family fell on hard times, bad investments, so I’m marrying a man who wants a trophy wife to hopefully engage in politics in his local community. He’s made his pile mining, and he wants out of grubbing in the dirt. I can’t say I blame him. He’s prepared to take my brother as his secretary when Adrian finishes at university.”

“Sounds a bit cold-blooded,” said Luke.

Anna flushed.

“It’s a business arrangement,” she said.  “I admire Ephraim for his drive, and determination. He wants me to teach him how to speak and write like a man of letters.”

“Well, if you’re happy,” said Luke, dubiously.

“I’m happier to have a man who respects me and respects my education, not some snot-nosed boy who expected me to ignore all I learned and just be a hostess, until my family wasn’t good enough for him any more.”

“Oh, like that,” said Luke. “I hope your miner is a rough diamond with many gleaming facets inside.”

“What a lovely way to look at him,” said Anna, beaming.

Emma lifted one shoulder in a shrug. She kept her eyes down.

“Nathaniel isn’t ideal,” she said. “He wants a housekeeper who can milk the yard cow, and care for chickens, and do farmyard chores, and I think he’s quite a hard man, and very religious, but he’s prepared to take Ida, and beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I could probably find you something better,” said Luke.

“I made an agreement with him,” said Emma. “He sent me a contract to sign.”

Luke said nothing, but he thought plenty. A man who insisted on a signed contract ahead of time had reason to think that his mail order bride might take one look at him and flee, to his way of thinking.

He caught Ida’s look on him, and could see that she was none too happy about the situation; but he raised an eyebrow at her, and grimaced. Nothing he could do.

“I’m just pleased that John is happy for me to be out in the open, riding,” said Ella. “I couldn’t bear to be stuck to a ranch house, doing nothing but cook and wash for ranch hands.”

“I fancy I may have the best of the bargain,” said Florence. “Married to a sheriff, I won’t have any crops or animals to tend, only paperwork. And that I am happy to do.”

 

Ida ran out as Luke went to purchase some provisions.

“Mr. Sokolov, could you lend me ten dollars?” she asked. “I... I will try to pay it back if I can get wages from my new brother-in-law.”

“You won’t,” said Luke. “And he’s the type, I wager, that if you work in town will demand it for your keep.”

Ida deflated.

“Oh, dear, I fear you’re right,” she said.

“Suppose I give you the money, as a birthday gift?” said Luke. “Or early Christmas gift. Then you can spend it how you like and not have to worry. What do you need, pretty geegaws because you think you’ll never see them otherwise?”

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” said Ida. “And Nathaniel sounds the sort who would cut up a pretty dress because it causes vanity. He sent money for clothes and wrote to my sister to dress me in good hard-wearing wincey.”

Luke shuddered. Flannel for shirts was good and hard-wearing, but the flannelette known as wincey was hard, scratchy, and not comfortable to wear.

“He sounds a real bundle of laughs,” said Luke. “What are you planning, you scamp?”

“Well, I’ll try and stick it out, for Emma,” said Ida, “But if I had some dungarees and a good flannel shirt, and decent boots, I could maybe slip away and work as a boy, and nobody the wiser.”

“Cut your braids in the plait, and attach it to a comb to pin in your hair so nobody is any the wiser,” said Luke. “That’s what the women of my family have always done when wanting to get away with being girls and boys. Remember to raise your hat to women and girls, and catch things by putting your legs together when sitting, because only girls use the lap of a skirt to help them catch. Run from your shoulders, not your hips. And learn to whistle. Here’s fifteen dollars, make sure to get a good padded coat too.”

“Oh, Mr. Sokolov, you are kind!”

“I’d have taken your sister to my mother, if only she hadn’t signed that d... wretched contract,” said Luke. “Try to keep your head down. I’ll see if I can’t come by in Spring to see how it’s going.”

Ida flung her arms around him and hugged him.

“You could always pretend to want to marry me,” she said.

“You’re a trifle young.”

“I’m fifteen; plenty of girls are married younger.”

“Yes, but you aren’t ready,” said Luke.

Ida considered, nibbling her plait. Luke removed it firmly from her mouth.

“Oh, dear, I suppose that proves that I’m not,” she said.

“I don’t mind pretending to want to marry you, and I’ll take you to my folks if you are miserable,” said Luke.

“I can stand a lot more, knowing that,” said Ida.

“Your brother-in-law will be your guardian; I’ll tell him I’ll come calling to court you,” said Luke.

Ida squealed with delight and hugged him again, and ran into Dave Smee’s shop to buy clothing.

Luke thought it more appropriate garb for helping on the land anyway, but he suspected that this Nathaniel would not agree. His sisters wore garments somewhere between wide Cossack trousers and divided skirts, and were capable of putting in a full day’s work as good as any youth; they lacked the upper body strength a man might have, but they were determined which made up for any minor physical differences.

 

 

oOoOo

 

Luke was ready to ride out as an escort to the next stage coach going on to Anna’s destination. He thought it a bit of a waste of effort, but then, if they were to catch some early bad weather in the rough terrain of Wyoming taking Emma and Ida to their new home, his knowledge might be useful. He was tempted to divert south on his way back, and go back home to his own family, if he was travelling in any case.

This first leg was not an unpleasant ride, bracing more than chilly, and if there were a couple of sleety squalls, they were of little consequence.

And in due course, the stage drew up outside the inn,  and they disembarked.

Anna swiftly found her ageing swain; they had exchanged photographs.

“Ephraim?” she said.

“Anna? Why, lass, you are even lovelier than your photograph,” said the tall, rugged man.

“Oh, you are so comfortingly tall,” said Anna, blushing.

“Well, that appears to be a match made in heaven,” Luke remarked to Ida.

“I think Anna was ready to settle for friendship and respect, and it’s grown, at least, by correspondence,” said Ida, seriously.  Luke removed her plait from her mouth again.

“I am sorry your sister settled merely for financial security,” said Luke.

“I’m scared,” said Ida, frankly.

“I can’t offer a lot of comfort, for it seems a chill sort of arrangement,” said Luke. “But perhaps Nathaniel is warmer than he appears to be; some men are just a bad hand at correspondence, and can’t seem to get their feelings across.”

Ida brightened.

“Do you think so?” she asked.

“To be honest? No,” said Luke. “But give him a chance.”

Ida sighed.

“I’ll try,” she said.

 

 

Miss Compton arranged for accommodation in the hotel, whilst Luke went to hire five riding, and two pack, horses for the journey to Nathaniel Pepper’s lonely ranch. Wyoming was a vast territory, and Luke recalled that his father had said it was much like their native Ukraine; mountains surrounding the High Plains. This town was named Scottsbluff, for its founder, and a large bluff which had been visible for miles as they approached.  They would skirt the high bluffs all the way to Nathaniel Pepper’s farm, and then turn south to Cheyenne for the Union Pacific.

Luke elected to sleep in the livery stable hay loft, by arrangement with its manager, rather than sleep in the hotel with the women.

If anyone got picky, it was proof that he had not had a chance to misbehave with any of the girls. Luke had little trust in the expectation that some rough Wyoming sod-buster would respect his word as a gentleman.

Besides, he suspected that he would sleep better with the quiet noises of the horses than in the comings and goings of a hotel.