Cullens bride western la.., p.1
Cullen's Bride (Western Lawmen Brides Book 2), page 1
CULLEN’S BRIDE
(WESTERN LAWMEN BRIDES BOOK 2)
By
MARGARET TANNER
Copyright
Copyright 2022 – Cullen’s Bride (Western Lawmen Brides) – Margaret Tanner
Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.
This story is a work of fiction, and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting and geography. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Author Links
About the Author
Acknowledgements
To my lovely readers: Thank you so much for your support. I truly appreciate it.
Cover Artist: Charlene Raddon – Silver Sage Books
Editor: Trudy Cordle
Chapter One
Nelson, Nevada 1870’s
“Rock of ages cleft for me,” as the congregation started singing the words to the lovely hymn, Evaline McGentry glanced at her betrothed, Anthony Fitzhugh.
One last trip to Carson City to oversee the final arrangements for the completion of their new home behind his store, then he would return. In two weeks, they would be married here at the church, making her long held dream of a loving husband come true.
Her late father had been a traveling fire and brimstone preacher and they had never set down roots, until they arrived here in Nelson about a year ago. When he died, she decided to stay, and was able to obtain a job in a millinery shop and find lodging with Mrs. Fagan, a lovely widow. Her wages weren’t particularly high, yet she loved working in the shop, and as her father had left her a small legacy, she was doing quite well. Then Anthony arrived on the scene and life became even better.
Evie’s heart beat a rapid tattoo in her breast when Anthony smiled indulgently at her. She could scarcely believe the good fortune that had so suddenly rained down upon her. Imagine a man as handsome as Anthony, with his fair good looks and charming manners, being interested in an ordinary young woman like herself.
Once the hymn was finished, the congregation sat down and discretely, so as none of the other worshipers could see, he gently squeezed her hand and whispered, “I can’t wait for us to be standing at the front of the church making our vows, Evie, my love.”
The words were music to her ears. “Me, either.”
They stopped whispering as Preacher Jonas gave the benediction, before he walked down the aisle to stand in the doorway of the church to shake hands and bid farewell to his congregation.
Waiting until the people in the front pews passed them, they soon joined the line snaking down the aisle. Outside, Preacher Jonas shook Anthony’s hand and smiled at her.
“Another great sermon, Preacher,” Anthony said. “I really enjoyed it.”
“Thank you, my boy. Have you decided which hymns you would like for the wedding?”
“I’m leaving all that to Evie. It’s her special day and I want her to have the wedding she’s always dreamed about.”
Evie smiled. “I don’t mind if you have some input into it, Anthony.”
The preacher chuckled. “I always think it is a wise move to let the bride organize everything, then us men can’t be held responsible if things don’t go well.”
Mrs. Roberts, the organist, walked up to them with a smile on her wrinkled face. “I hear congratulations are in order. You’re getting yourself a lovely woman, young man.”
Evie felt her cheeks burn. “Thank you, Mrs. Roberts. You do flatter me.”
Anthony bowed slightly. “I know. I’m an extremely fortunate man to have found Evie.”
Because Anthony was leaving on the early afternoon stage, they strolled over to the café to have their noonday meal. Delia, the woman who owned the Red Rose café, showed them to ‘their’ table as they called it now. It was situated in a secluded corner, which allowed them to hold hands and discuss their future. On a couple of occasions over the last few weeks, after announcing their betrothal, Anthony had boldly sneaked a kiss or two, much to her delight.
Having been brought up so strictly by her father, as her mother had died when she was young, and due to his religious beliefs, he would have been mortified had he seen them. Now, it excited her to be so wanton.
“Shall I bring the menu over?” Delia asked.
“No, thank you, I’m going to have the roast chicken,” she said.
“Steak for me, thanks.” Anthony gave the woman a wide-toothed smile.
Evie gave him a gentle punch on the arm. “You always order steak.”
“I know, the steak here is so good, a man can’t resist.”
“Apple pie?” Delia raised one eyebrow in query.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a long journey on the stage and I never like traveling on a full stomach.” He smiled his regrets. “Next time, for sure.”
Evie had been going to order the apple pie, but not if he didn’t have some, too.
“We can share a pot of tea,” he said.
Delia hurried away, leaving them alone together. A couple of other tables were occupied, otherwise the place was empty. Taking a quick glance around, Anthony leaned across the table. “Were you able to get the extra money out of the bank?”
“Yes, but it leaves me with only a few dollars of my father’s legacy now.”
“I’m sorry, darling, it’s only for a short time. The carpenter renovating our house needed more money, and it took everything I had on hand to pay him. I didn’t want him to stop work, and until the bank draft for my investments comes through, I’m a little short.” He picked up her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I shouldn’t worry about it, I know, and once we’re married it won’t matter at all. I just feel vulnerable being on my own with little money to tide me over if anything untoward happens.”
“Nothing untoward will happen, my darling. No matter what you say, I’m going to pay you back every cent you loaned me.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Of course, I do. I don’t want my wife thinking I can’t afford to keep her in a comfortable manner without using her money. If mine hadn’t been held up, there would have been no need for me to borrow anything from you.”
“I’m being silly, I know, but my father taught me to be overly cautious when it came to money, which he thought was the root of all evil. That’s why he never touched the money my grandfather had left him all those years ago and it passed on to me. Three hundred and twenty dollars probably isn’t much of a legacy for most people; to me it was a fortune. There was a worthless mine claim, too.”
“Let’s not talk money, shall we. It will give us indigestion. Just give me the hundred dollars now before our food arrives.”
She opened her reticule and took the money out and handed it over. He didn’t bother counting it, just shoved it in the inside pocket of his black coat.
It would be dreadful if he thought she begrudged loaning him the money, yet she couldn’t help worrying about it. She wished now she had never mentioned the legacy to Mrs. Fagan. The woman was a kindly soul, who nonetheless liked to gossip. Goodness only knew how many people she had told about the legacy.
Thankfully, Anthony had promised that straight after their wedding ceremony, early on the Saturday, he would take her to the women’s emporium to buy a whole new wardrobe, ready for when he returned to Carson City with her as his bride.
She had urged him not to worry about buying much for her trousseau, although he had been adamant he wanted to spoil her. Under those circumstances, she had not argued with him. Truth be known, it was enough to know he loved her and they would shortly become man and wife. Mrs. Anthony Fitzhugh certainly did have a nice ring to it.
Leaving Nelson would be a wrench as she had been happy here. She had already put in her notice at work, and was showing Claire, the girl who would be taking her place, the duties, and Mrs. Fagan had already told Claire she could have her room at the lodging house. The girl had been so excited about moving in, she had already brought some of her belongings into the special luggage room used by guests.
Everything seemed to have fallen in so well. Had she been superstitious, which she wasn’t, it would be worrying.
Chapter Two
Evie and Anthony linked arms as they walked toward the Winchester Stagecoach depot. This would be the last time they would have to say farewell to each other. Next time, they would be traveling on the stage together. He had been able to get an early afternoon stage out of Nelson today. It mainly carried mail and freight and would arrive in Carson City in
“I’ll miss you so much,” she said.
“I know, my darling and I’ll miss you, too. It’s only another couple of weeks then we will never be parted again. I just couldn’t bear to be away from you once we’re married.”
“Our house will definitely be finished by the time I arrive?” she queried. “Not that I’d mind too much living in a tent with you,” she hurriedly tacked on.
He laughed. “I would never allow my wife to sleep in a tent. Only the best is good enough for you, my beautiful Evie. Yes, the carpenter promised me if I paid him the money, the house would be completed to our satisfaction. I demanded the best of him and that’s what we’re going to get. I just can’t wait for you to see it.”
“Mail coach to Virginia City. Any passengers please board,” a man yelled out and they both rose and walked on to the porch where the stage waited. A brief brushing of their lips and Anthony climbed aboard, poking his head out the window so they could talk until the driver jumped up on his seat. Within seconds, the stage moved out of the depot with Anthony waving at her through the open window.
When the stage became only a faint speck in the distance, Evie turned and trudged back to the lodging house. How would she ever survive the next couple of weeks? Regardless of what Anthony said, she was going to buy herself a special dress for the occasion. She had noticed a pretty pale green/blue gown in the dressmaker’s window and would buy that to be married in. A girl did have her pride, after all, and she wanted to provide at least part of her trousseau.
Unlocking the front door on her return to the double storied white house just off the main street, she was met by a smiling Mrs. Fagan. Her smile quickly faded when she saw Evie’s distress.
“My dear, do come into the parlor and we’ll have a nice cup of tea and a piece of ginger cake. You look so down.”
“I am. I was lucky not to have broken down when Anthony jumped on to the stage. The only thing stopping the tears pouring down my cheeks, was how worried he would be to see me in such a state.”
“Your man would probably have been flattered. He’s such a nice, caring person. I know you’ll be happy.” The elderly woman sighed. “I had forty happy years with my Gerald and I wish the same for you, my dear. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Fagan, you’ve been so kind to me. I’ll miss you when I leave, but Claire seems nice.”
“She does. I’m lucky to have this large house and to be able to give a home to young women, not that I don’t get a lot out of it, too. Life would be so lonely without your presence. You young ladies ease the loneliness.”
Mrs. Fagan bustled off to prepare the tea. Being English she never served coffee. “I just can’t abide the taste or smell,” she used to say.
Glancing around the well-furnished, if slightly cluttered, parlor with several brocade armchairs and two small carved tables, Evie gave a deep sigh. Burgundy drapes with lace inserts adorned the window, adding to the ambience of the room. She would certainly miss all of this when she left. If it wasn’t for Anthony, she would happily have spent the rest of her days living here.
Mrs. Fagan had insisted on providing an early luncheon for a few friends after the wedding ceremony. Well, they were mainly her friends from the church, although Evie did like all of them, and the ladies had always been kind. She sometimes wondered what she had done to deserve such happiness.
Pushing a tea trolley containing pretty violet patterned crockery and a matching teapot, with a silver, heart shaped dish with slices of cake on it, a smiling Mrs. Fagan’s return interrupted her musing.
“Here we are, my dear, nothing like a nice cup of tea and a piece of cake to brighten you up. I am going to have roast chicken for our evening meal, just to cheer you up a little more.”
“Thank you, there’s no need to go to all that trouble on my behalf.”
“It’s no trouble. My other guests enjoy roast chicken. We’ll have to discuss a menu for your wedding luncheon within the next few days.” She clapped her hands. “I am so excited about this, Evie.”
“I don’t want you going to any trouble, Mrs. Fagan, you’ve already been so kind to me.”
The woman waved her hand around. “My dear, it will be a pleasure.”
***
Two weeks later - Evie and Anthony’s wedding day.
Nervously glancing around, Evie sat in the front pew of the pretty little church with nervous butterflies swirling around in her stomach. The preacher was waiting out in the vestry for Anthony to arrive. Mrs. Fagan and the preacher’s wife would be acting as their witnesses.
For about the tenth time, she tugged at the neck of her new dress to make sure it was sitting properly. It was money well spent as the dress suited her so well. Without vanity, she knew she had never looked so well. With Anthony’s promise of buying her a new wardrobe, she had already given most of her clothes away. Mrs. Fagan had known of a couple of families who were having it tough because of their menfolk losing their jobs. It was nice being able to help less fortunate people.
As time dragged on, she started to become a little anxious. It was unlike Anthony to be running late, as he had always been punctual. Sensing her growing agitation, Mrs. Fagan squeezed her hand.
“He should be here by now,” Evie whispered.
“The stage was probably late, dear, just sit back and enjoy the organ music. We’re so lucky to have such a gifted organist as Mrs. Roberts.”
More time passed and Evie sensed rather than saw the congregation becoming a little restless. Maybe there had been an accident? A hold-up, maybe? All kinds of horrible thoughts flittered through her mind.
When the preacher suddenly walked over to her, she knew something was drastically wrong.
“I don’t know what’s happening, my dear, but…”
“Of all the days for the stage to be late,” Evie wailed.
“The stage isn’t late. I sent Les over to check. It arrived on time, only Anthony wasn’t on board.”
“Oh, no!” Her hands flew to her face in horror. “Something must have happened to him. What will I do? I have to go to him. He might be hurt or worse.” Tears streamed down her cheek.
“Calm down, my dear, there could be a simple explanation and nothing sinister about it at all,” Mrs. Fagan said.
“Exactly. I’ll make an announcement to your guests, and maybe they could still go over to your house, Mrs. Fagan, to partake of refreshments.”
“What a good idea. The food is all ready, just needs to be served. I think that’s what we should do Evie. After all, everyone must eat so they might as well do it at my place. Then we can work out what’s the best thing for you to do.”
“I’ll have to go to him.” Evie wrung her hands. “Wouldn’t you think he would have sent a telegram or arranged for someone else to do it if he was ill?”
“There was no telegram, Les called in there on the off chance. I’m sorry, Evie, I don’t know what to say. Maybe he just got cold feet at the last moment.” The preacher’s eyes were full of compassion.
Evie hadn’t thought of that. She didn’t know which was the worst scenario – he was sick or had deliberately left her waiting in the church. She hated herself for thinking he would do anything so reprehensible as to jilt her after they had vowed undying love to each other.
She bowed her head and closed her eyes as the preacher spoke. “I’m sorry everyone, the groom has not turned up.”
The shocked gasp made Evie feel even worse. “Mrs. Fagan cordially invites everyone to come to her place as arranged, to share the luncheon she has so kindly provided. I am sure there is a reasonable explanation as to why Mr. Fitzhugh couldn’t make it on time.”
A murmur of shock rippled through the congregation. This was her darkest hour since her father died.
“Keep a stiff upper lip, as my father always used to say,” Mrs. Fagan said. “Hold your head high. No matter what has happened, my dear, it isn’t your fault. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation, we just need to find out what it is.”
