More Than She Bargained For (The Widow Wagon Book 2) Read online

  The angry voices of both her parents filtered up from downstairs.

  “George, how could you?” her mother said. “She’s a married woman. I never!”

  “Easy, Mary Beth, I pulled her pants down and strapped it with a piece of harness leather. And don’t say ‘you never.’ You were strapped with a piece of leather our first year of marriage, if I remember correctly. And if you keep it up, I’ll be using a harness strap on your bottom too. So, watch it!”

  “George, keep your voice down,” her mother hissed. “She’ll hear you!”

  George laughed. “I don’t care if she does! Might make her mind better if she knows her mama gets her tail tanned too. Be careful, Mary Beth. You’re this close to a paddling.”

  His heavy footfalls started up the stairs, the thumping getting louder and louder as he drew closer to her room. He stopped just outside of her door. “Good girl. You stay there and think until I holler up for you. Then I want you taking a nap until dinner. Ya hear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His footsteps retreated and she relaxed into her position in the corner, staring out the window, wishing she was at her — and Jesse’s — house.

  In the distance, she could see a handful of men coming down the road. They were all carrying guns. As they drew closer, she realized that they were wearing the blue uniforms of the North. Her heart jumped into her throat.

  Oh, God. Did Jesse die? They’re coming to tell me Jesse died.

  She dropped her gown, running down the stairs. “Daddy, Daddy! There are soldiers coming up the road. Union soldiers.” She was openly sobbing by the time she hit the last step. “Oh, God! I think they’re coming to tell me about Jesse.”

  Her mother came running, and Daisy threw herself into her father’s arms. Footsteps sounded on the floorboards of the front porch, the loud rap of knuckles banging on the door.

  Her father eased Daisy into her mother’s embrace, and opened the door. “Good day, Gentlemen. Thank you for your service. What can I do for you?”

  “Sir, Ma’am. I’m Captain Crenshaw, and these men are from my company.” His gaze shifted to Daisy. “Ma’am, are you Mrs. Jesse Anderson?”

  “Oh, God! Oh, God! Yes. He’s dead, isn’t he?” She screamed, falling to the floor in a heap.

  “Son, you better just say it,” George said, his voice solemn. “We need to know. Don’t flower it. Just spit it out.”

  Captain Crenshaw exhaled loudly. “Yes, Ma’am. He died in the line of duty. We were in Georgia when he was shot by Rebel soldiers.”

  Daisy heard herself screaming, almost as if she’d left her own body. She shrieked repeatedly at the horror of the news, unable to make herself stop.

  Her father and Captain Crenshaw brought her to the parlor and gave her a glass of whiskey to calm her down. The Captain dropped to one knee in front of her. “Ma’am, we brought some of Jesse’s belongings for you. These were the things we found on him.” He handed her his wallet, his money clip, a tattered picture of them on their wedding day, his wedding band, and a beautiful gold and ruby ring.

  “This ring.” Daisy tried to hand it back to the Captain. “This isn’t Jesse’s ring.”

  “No, Ma’am, that’s his. It was in his pocket. All these articles were on his… body. I’m sorry, ma’am.” He bowed his head to her for a moment, then motioned to the soldiers. “We need to be leaving, Sir. My company needs to meet up with our regiment.”

  “Thank you for coming to tell us. We appreciate it.”

  * * *

  One month later

  “Daisy, your mother and I have been in touch with your Aunt Mae in Independence, Missouri.” George grasped her hand in his large one. “Your options are limited as a widow, but we want you to be happy. You’re only eighteen and you deserve to start your life over.”

  “I don’t care, Daddy. It’ll be fine.”

  “No. It’s not fine. With the migrations to the Oregon Territory and all the people looking for gold out west, there are men looking for mail order brides. My sister says there is a covered wagon that books safe travel on the Oregon Trail to head out west. It’s called the Widow Wagon. It only takes on widows and brings them to men along the trail that are looking for a wife.”

  Daisy felt the blood drain from her face, her head beginning to spin. “You want me to leave and go West? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “We don’t want you to leave, but we know that it’d be the right thing to happen. It’s a way for you to start your life over. Find a new man, have a husband — and have children. We’ve purchased a stagecoach ticket for you to go to Missouri. You’ll stay with your Aunt Mae until it’s time to leave in the spring on the next Widow Wagon.”

  “But, Daddy—”

  “No. There’ll be no discussion. This is for the best. We’ll come and visit you. The steam engine is brand new, and before we know it, we’ll be able to take the train to visit you yearly. Until then, we can purchase a ticket and travel out to you by stage coach.”

  And that’s how Daisy came to find herself in Independence, Missouri, answering an ad from one Noah Jensen in Chimney Rock, Nebraska.

  And purchasing a ticket on the Widow Wagon.

  * * *

  The family had just sat down for dinner, finally together in the dining room, when the dogs out front began barking, a loud knock sounding at the front door. Ben answered the door, finding a Confederate soldier standing on their porch.

  “Sir. I knew your son Bobby Gibson,” the soldier said.

  Ben sighed, extending a hand. “Ben Gibson, Sir. I’m Bobby’s father.”

  The soldier took a deep breath. “I know my company commander’s already been out to give you the sad news, but I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. He was a good man, a good soldier.”

  “Thank you, son,” Ben murmured, giving him a little nod.

  “I was there… when it happened. He shot and killed a Yankee, but unfortunately, that same man killed Bobby with his rifle before he died.” The soldier reached into his pockets. “I have some of his personal belongings and wanted to get them to you.” He handed over a wallet, some pictures of family, and a folded document.

  Ben frowned, opening the document and reading it. “It’s a… map. A map of Georgia?” He tapped the tattered paper. “What’s this red X mean?”

  The soldier cleared his throat. “I don’t know, sir, but I have some other information that may be of interest to you. I regret to report that those damn Yankee soldiers got to your son before I could, and they took his money out of his wallet. They even took a ruby ring that was with this map. Bobby showed me the ring himself not a day before he died. They said that they were going to give the ring and the money to the wife of the soldier Bobby killed. They said his name was Jesse. I have a feeling that the ring is attached to this map somehow.” The soldier drew a piece of tattered paper from his breast pocket. “Bobby also had this letter in his shirt. I’m not sure why the Yankees didn’t take it too, but fortunately they left it behind. It’s a letter from someone named PGT Beauregard. He was the man who sent the map, and I’m thinking the ring too.”

  “Uncle PGT?” Ben’s son Willie asked from the dining room, obviously listening in on the conversation at the front door. “Why would he send Bobby a letter?”

  “I have no idea, son.” Ben stared at the map, shaking his head. We’ll have to get in touch with PGT.”

  The soldier continued. “Well, Sir. I hope you can figure it out. But like I said, those Yanks said they was going to give that ring to Jesse’s wife. A Mrs. Daisy Anderson? They said she lived in Boston. I’m sorry, I ain’t got any other information than that.”

  Ben shook the soldier’s hand. “It’s a tough job, I know it. We thank you, soldier. Now, I’ll have to tell Bobby’s ma and the rest of the family. I’ll be in touch with my brother, General Beauregard. Then it looks like we’ll be making a trip to Boston to find out who this Daisy Anderson is — and where my son’s ring went off to.”

&nbs
p; Chapter 1

  Willie sat with the map in his hand in the small hotel room in Independence, Missouri. The noise from the busy street down below filtered through his window, open to allow a small breeze to flow into the stifling heat of the small room. He had to find Daisy Anderson. He’d been looking for months, trying to find out where Jesse Anderson’s wife lived. He hated lying to all those soldiers, but he couldn’t very well say why he was looking for her.

  He had lied to them all and said she was his cousin.

  On top of it all, he embellished the story and said he needed to find Jesse’s wife to give her something from the family. Another bold-faced lie.

  But what they didn’t know, didn’t hurt them.

  Willie looked down at the worn and tattered map in his hands, and he just wanted to leap forward in time and somehow be at that final stage of his search — his reward. He deserved it. He had worked hard, and yet nothing had ever seemed to work out for him. This was his time. He had watched all his brothers in Louisiana. They had all become successful, living their dreams — while he still waited. All of that was about to change though. Once he found Daisy and got the “key,” his dreams would finally be within reach.

  The soldiers had told him that after the Yankee soldier, Jesse Anderson, died in the war — by his own brother’s bullet —Daisy had been notified and given his personal belongings.

  But one of those mementos belonged to his brother, Bobby. He’d rectify that soon.

  The soldiers divulged that Daisy had moved from Boston to live with her aunt in Independence, Missouri. With that news, he had hopped onto a stagecoach making his way to Independence.

  Once morning came, he’d find her aunt — and take one step closer to making his dreams come true.

  * * *

  They had just dropped Sophie off in Topeka, Kansas to meet her mail-order husband, Daniel Weston. Daisy moved to the back of the wagon, reaching for her carpetbag, tucked in amongst the cooking supplies buried in a dark corner in the back. She rooted through the bag again just to make sure the ring was still there; she was worried that Sophie may have taken it. She didn’t want to get in trouble or have the other women see it. After the ruckus at the mercantile before embarking upon their journey, she had every reason to be secretive. Angus and Sam had told her that she couldn’t bring her bag on the wagon. The rules for weight were stringent — but she didn’t care. Daisy was used to doing what she wanted to do, regardless of the rules. However, she quickly learned that Angus wasn’t someone to tangle with. Once they had discovered Daisy had brought the bag along anyway, she’d received a whipping for that bit of disobedience.

  But when all was said and done, she’d hidden the large carpet bag, regardless of the orders and another possible whipping. She found the ring, holding it up to look at the shiny gold. Even in the shadowed light filtering through the canvas covering the wagon, the jewel glittered. She thought she knew all the personal belongings Jesse had, but when the soldiers came to the house to disclose Jesse’s death, they had given her a beautiful ruby ring. The same ring she now held in her hand.

  When she pushed on the stone, it slid to the side, revealing a tiny hidden key. The red ruby gleamed when exposed to the light. For the hundredth time, she pondered the purpose of the key, wondering what it opened. She didn’t know quite why she was fascinated with it, but she was. Jesse didn’t have many belongings, which made this ring even more precious to her. She liked putting it on her thumb and watching the light glint off the brightly polished gold band. The soldiers had said that it was on Jesse’s body, but she didn’t know where it had come from. She didn’t remember seeing the bejeweled ring during their marriage. She supposed that someone could have mailed it to him, perhaps an uncle or a cousin, but Jesse had never had anything this extravagant on his hand during their short marriage. But there was one thing she was certain of — she didn’t want the other women in the wagon to see her playing with that ring.

  Angus had been the one who had been upset with her for wanting to bring that bag along, but the ring was the reason for her defiance. If she left the bag, she would have had to leave the ring — and that just wasn’t going to happen. She wrapped the ring in the white, lacy handkerchief Jesse had given her, putting it in a pocket of the bag.

  It was at that time that Nellie, Clara’s little girl, undetected by Daisy, climbed into the wagon and crawled over to Daisy. “What are you doing?”

  “None of your business! Where’s your ma, and what’re you doing up in the wagon?” Daisy pushed the handkerchief-wrapped ring further into the pocket, closing the bag tightly and jamming it under the blanket where she had initially hidden it.

  “She’s right outside and wanted to know if you was okay. She sent me to find you. Are you all right, ma’am?” Nellie tilted her head, looking at her with large doe eyes.

  “I’m just fine. I told you it’s none of your business. You should be outside with your mother and sister. I don’t need you coming in here and bothering me. I don’t care about you and what you’re doing. You shouldn’t care about me either.” Daisy stood, waving her hand to dismiss Nellie. “As an adult, what I do is none of your business! Just skedaddle out of this wagon before I forget that you’re not mine and take a switch to you!”

  Nellie started to cry, quickly jumping out of the wagon and running to her mother, Daisy close on her heels.

  “Ma, she said I shouldn’t ask questions and then she said she’d switch me!” Nellie buried her face against her mother’s chest.

  Clara wrapped her arms around her crying daughter, clenching her teeth as she scowled Daisy’s way. “Did you say that to my child?”

  “I most certainly did,” Daisy said, with the tilt of her chin. “She had no business coming into that wagon asking me what I was doing. It’s none of her business. I don’t answer to a child. I’m not a child anymore, and I don’t need people checking on me either!”

  “Well, I’m telling you right now that I’m old enough to be your ma. I’ve known many women to have a child at sixteen years old, and I’m the one who sent Nellie to check on you.” Clara cocked her thumb at herself, her voice rising. “I’m the one who wanted to know what you were doing. And I wasn’t checking on you to be nosy. I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” She gently pulled Nellie aside, and took two long strides toward Daisy. “I knew you and Sophie had become close, and I wanted to make sure that you weren’t upset at her leaving. But I’ll tell you right now. Don’t you ever think you can come after my child! I swear, as God is my witness, I’ll take that switch outta yer hand and put it across your bare backside. Are we clear?”

  “Well, I never! How dare you threaten me like that!” Daisy took a threatening step toward Clara, though she still kept her distance.

  “And if I’m correct, I’m thinking you ain’t never been switched — or you wouldn’t be stupid enough to threaten someone else’s child with it. But I reckon I’m more than happy to introduce you to it, if you keep it up.” Clara wagged her finger in Daisy’s face, then turned, tucking Nellie under her arm and walking away.

  It was at this point that Angus came walking out of the mercantile into the bright sunshine, immediately seeing little Nellie crying. Hurrying down the store’s front steps, his spurs jangling, he stopped Clara, laying a hand on her arm. “What’s going on here? Are you damn women caterwauling again?”

  “We’re not caterwauling, Sir. It’s that… that woman over there — and I use the term loosely!” Clara pointed toward Daisy. “I should say that… child. Daisy just threatened my Nellie with a switching, and I just told her that I won’t allow it. I swear, Angus, I will take it from her hand and switch her instead.”

  Angus pointed a long, crooked finger toward Clara. “Now you listen here. I ain’t gonna say it again! Ain’t nobody going to fight, or do any switching around here but me, is that clear?” He readjusted his stance, his hands on his hips as he turned toward Nellie. He gently put his thumb and forefinger on her chin, raising her gaze to
his. “How about you tell me, little girl. What happened back there, and why Daisy thought you might need to be switched.”

  Nellie turned her tear-filled gaze toward her mother. Clara nodded, giving her permission to speak. Nellie swiped her tears away and with a deep breath relayed what had happened. “Well, my mom had told me to go check on Miss Daisy to see if she was all right. We knew she was close to Miss Sophie and we was worried that she was feeling mighty sad.” Nellie turned a furtive glance at Daisy. “Then I climbed into the wagon to make sure she was okay.”

  Nellie started playing with the ribbon on her dress, nervously twirling it in her fingers. Angus waited for her to continue her story. After a few seconds, Nellie raised her gaze to him again and said, “Miss Daisy has something in her bag. I saw her looking at it when I came into the wagon. When she saw me, she wrapped it up with a handkerchief and put it in her bag like she was trying to hide it from me. She looked afraid that I might see it.”

  Clara and Angus exchanged a long look. Angus’ eyebrows furrowed and he took a deep breath, throwing an irritated scowl at Daisy.

  He turned back to Nellie.” Thank you, little lady, you did a good job. If Miss Daisy — or anyone else for that matter — gives you any trouble you come look for me, you hear? Ain’t nobody here going to hurt you. As long as you behave and do as you’re told, you have no reason to be afraid on the Widow Wagon. I’ll be talking to Miss Daisy, and I’ll get this taken care of.”

  He fished a penny from his pocket, handing it to Nellie. “Now, you go over to the mercantile and get yourself and your sister some candy. Don’t let anything that happened in that wagon upset you today.”

  Clara reached out to grasp Nellie’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Angus, for being so kind to my girls. I appreciate it and I’m glad you’re talking to Miss Daisy for me. I meant what I said — I’m not going to tolerate her going after any of my girls.” A muscle in Clara’s jaw clenched, and she raised her chin. “They’ve been through too much and I have to protect them.”