Indiana Goes West (Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter 8

Indiana nestled deep into the covers with a
soft sigh, listening to the sounds of the house stirring from down
below. She felt guilty for feigning illness when Misty came to
rouse her. The poor woman looked tired from trying to keep up with
the responsibility of the house without the rest of their staff. It
had to be a great strain on her. Misty’s look of worry almost made
Indiana want to admit her ruse at once.

But if she had, she would have had to rise
from her bed and face the choice she had to make. She understood
that she really had no choice at all. It was a man’s world. She had
no inheritance, and she could not buy a home or a shop, even if she
thought she had half the skill needed to do so.

None of their male kin would be any help
either. They had no mind to share their inheritance, not even with
the family from whom they had claimed it. It made Indiana want to
wring her hands to know she was related to such.

And she could not stall for time much longer.
That man from Texas would not wait long, and he would take his
fortune elsewhere. And then what would become of them? Still,
Indiana could not care less about the matter, but her mother would
give her no rest about the importance of marrying before they left
the home. The plan depended on her, the oldest daughter, being wed
to a wealthy man quickly, ready or not.

Indiana’s mind wandered to her encounter the
day before, when Morgan Chase had escorted her home from the bank.
He was so very different from Mr. Hollway in so many ways. She
imagined he would never need to resort to a mail order bride
advertisement to find himself a wife. He was clean cut, with broad
shoulders and a strong, confident jaw line. He was possessed of
good bearing that quietly announced his status. He needed no pomp
or pretentiousness to command respect from those around him.

If only her mother had sought out half of
such a man. Perhaps then a day of shopping for new dresses would
not feel like a hangman’s noose. She buried her head deeper in the
pillow with a groan at the thought. How was she to avoid marrying a
complete stranger? Particularly an awful man like Cade Hollway of
Texas? It was bad enough that he had the social graces of a pig,
but the man was also old enough to be her father.

She had wracked her brain for days, but had
come up with nothing. A woman could not make it in this world
without a male guardian. Not in any
proper
way anyhow.
Society would shun them the instant they realized the truth.

No wonder her father had yearned so earnestly
for a son. Even a young boy would have provided protection to his
fortune and family. The inheritance would have been his, and the
girls would have been able to find their own husbands in polite
society. This whole ugly mess could have been completely avoided.
She had so terribly misjudged her father’s intentions when he
voiced his discontent about having all daughters. It made her sick
how easily his fortune was scattered to the winds, his wife and
daughters forced into destitution. It just wasn’t fair.

Indiana twisted in her blankets and stared up
at the ceiling. Surely there was something she was missing. Surely
there had to be a better solution to this mess than marrying her to
Mr. Hollway?

The young woman jolted in alarm as the door
burst open. She clutched her blanket protectively against her chest
with wide eyes trained on the intruder. She sat up in surprise as
she watched her mother stride across the room with quiet authority,
flinging open the curtains.

Indiana squeezed her eyes shut as the morning
light flooded her room. “Mother, what are you doing?”

Deborah did not seem to acknowledge her
daughter’s confusion as she strode over to the armoire and started
to pick through the clothes in it. “Up with you now! Misty will be
in shortly to help you dress for town. We have shopping to do so
that you will look like a respectable wife. Your clothes are nice
enough for a young lady, but you will be a wife and woman of the
home soon.”

Indiana’s mind whirled in a panic as she
watched her mother examine a pair of gloves for the trip out. She
had counted on her ruse to buy her time to think—at the very least,
a morning reprieve. “Mother, I, uh, I…”

“Don’t stutter, dear. It is unbecoming of a
young lady.”

Indiana swallowed nervously at the hard edge
in her mother’s tone. “I thought Misty would tell you. I am not
well today. I am feeling unwell.”

“Wonderful,” Deborah said with such false
optimism that Indiana almost thought she was making a strange joke
of it. However she could tell by the set of her mother’s jaw that
she was playing a very dangerous game with the woman, one that
threatened to get dreadful quickly if she were to misstep. “I hear
that the men in the Midwest favor a certain complexion. ‘Pale
beauties’ they are called. Maybe it will entice Mr. Hollway into
forgiving your lack of charm with him.”

“I am not impolite with Mr. Hollway.” Indiana
protested gently, careful to keep her tone respectful in the
presence of the stern woman before her as she pulled her legs
reluctantly over the edge of the bed.

“You do not make extra efforts in your
politeness, either.” Deborah’s mouth set into a thin line.

Indiana felt her face burn, feeling like a
chastened child. She frowned as she watched her mother half close
the door to the bedroom.

“You shall get out of that bed, dress, and
prepare yourself to look your best when Mr. Hollway comes calling.”
From the doorway, Deborah spoke each word with slow, deliberate
force. Indiana’s throat dried up like sand, choking off any
protest. “We’ve no time nor privilege to dally in childishness,
Indiana. No man of proper means will have anything to do with you
if you are discovered as penniless. We’ve barely enough to cover
the dresses and a small dowry for each of you. I’ll not see my
daughters forced into squalor.”

Indiana felt a pang of bitter resentment as
she stared at her mother. If society would cast them aside so
easily over their money, she could think of no reason to be so
desperate to keep her station—especially to marry a man on the
claim he was a wealthy rancher. For all they knew, his ranch was a
shack, and his land held only some half-starved longhorns. She’d
likely never see her sisters or mother again. Was that really worth
this race to wed before the grooms found out how poor they
were?

“There is more to life than our rank,
Mother,” Indiana said quietly as she squared her shoulders, her
heart pounding in fear over her small defiance. She gave her mother
a pleading gaze, imploring her to understand the insanity of this
whole situation.

Her mother’s face froze. “Spoken like a
sheltered, spoiled child who has never known want in her life—and
might you never know it! How easily you are discarded when you have
nothing of value. How inconvenient you become when they desire
nothing you have to give!”

Indiana’s heart stung at the cold, firm tone
of her mother’s words.

“You must resolve yourself to securing our
futures by any means necessary,” Deborah said as she glared at
Indiana. “This is for our sakes, not only your own.”

Indiana lowered her gaze to stare at her
hands, clenched tight around the blankets on her lap. She scarcely
heard the sound of the door closing as her mother let herself
out.

* * *

Indiana quickly began to wish she had stayed
in her bed and endured her mother’s scathing disapproval. Despite
the childishness and selfishness of the desire, anything would have
been better than being forced to try on every scrap of clothing in
the store and paraded around like a prized horse. She was getting
tired of being poked, pricked by needles, yanked around, and
scrutinized as the seamstress pondered alterations.

On a normal day, Indiana would have enjoyed
shopping. It was fun to sort through clothes and imagine the lands
from which they were imported, to imagine meeting a stranger at a
ball. However, there was no happily ever after at the end of this
story that she could foresee. It rather dampened the mood, as she
was smothered in one dress after another.

Indiana glanced over at her sisters, who were
chattering and giggling over dresses they were examining. It was
eerie how normal they were. It was like they were perfectly content
with their lot. Not even Montana seemed hesitant about choosing her
wardrobe for a future in which she had little choice.

Is something wrong with me?
Indiana
wondered. Seeing her family so relaxed and cheerful as they
chattered away made her feel as she were somehow being
unreasonable. But how could she possibly be unreasonable? They were
about to be scattered to the four winds among strangers who would
be their husbands. They were starting up new lives completely
blind. Most parents would strenuously protest such a decision had
it been the daughter’s choosing. However, it was the parent that
was driving exactly that. How could she be unreasonable about
something this huge?

She gazed down at the soft green sea foam
dress she wore. It was imported from London and was supposed to be
the latest fashion in Europe. It fitted her perfectly, accenting
her form in all the right places. The lace and bead work suited her
as well. A few weeks ago she would have been breathless with desire
to own it, but when she tried to imagine herself performing a waltz
with a suitor, it all felt so woefully extravagant, a waste of a
beautiful thing.

As Indiana imagined trying to live her life
as the wife of the Texas rancher, she felt her chest tighten until
she could barely draw a breath. The room suddenly felt as if it
were shrinking in on her. There was no air within the four walls.
Noises were dull and thundering in her ears. Her vision blurred and
tilted dangerously as she fought to draw a breath.

She ignored the questions and protests of her
mother and the seamstress as she whirled and scrambled for the
entrance. She did not stop until she pushed the door open and
caught herself on the railing. She took in a few deep shuddering
breaths as she fought down the choking wave of panic.

“Indiana, whatever is the matter?” Deborah
demanded as she made her way out of the store. Seeing her
daughter’s state, the angry scowl softened and she gave the young
woman’s arm a pat in rare reassurance.

Indiana slowly regained her senses, hearing
the sounds of the street pierce through the cloud as she took in
one breath at a time.

She rose her head and froze as she caught
sight of a familiar face across the street. As if summoned by her
panic, there stood Morgan with a surprised expression on his face.
One hand was still on the door of the barber shop. He must have
just left, as he looked fresh shaven and trimmed. He appeared even
more dashing than ever. She felt a wave of embarrassment for
staring so openly.

Indiana stood upright and corrected her
posture, quickly tucking a loose curl behind her ear and smoothing
the skirts of the sea foam evening dress. She felt her face flush
with embarrassment. While it would have suited her perfectly in an
elegant ball, it was painfully out of place on the sidewalk of San
Francisco. Worse still, she had made a spectacle of herself by
folding herself over a railing.

She must have seemed a sight to the poor man.
His eyes lingered on her for a little longer than would have been
deemed polite. She would not have minded the attention at all had
she not made such a scene to earn it. The man was practically
frozen in place. He seemed to shake himself from a spell as he
tipped his hat in greeting. She gave a polite nod in return as she
tried to reclaim whatever might be left of her dignity.

Her mother nodded to Morgan as she took
Indiana by her elbow, guiding her back toward the shop entrance.
The woman gazed between Indiana and Morgan thoughtfully, her brow
furrowed in some deep thought. Indiana was too mortified at the
chance encounter to ponder what was going through her mother’s
mind.

“Is everything all right?” the seamstress
asked as Leah and Montana peeked from the back of the store.

“Oh, just the new bride jitters,” Deborah
said cheerfully as she guided her daughter inside.

“I’m not a bride yet,” Indiana managed to
protest weakly.

“You will be soon enough,” Deborah assured
her daughter as she squeezed her arm in warning before turning to
the seamstress. “Madam, this dress will do nicely. Please wrap it
up once she changes.”

As the door started to shut, Indiana glanced
back out across the street. To her disappointment, Morgan had
already disappeared.

Chapter 9

“It was lovely of you to invite us on a
picnic.”

Indiana was lying on the grass in the
pleasant warmth of late morning. She watched as the dappled light
played upon the gently waving leaves of the plants. The trees
further down between her and the coastline framed the bright blue
sea perfectly.

Morgan looked over at her and smiled. “You’re
welcome, and the sea is a lovely deep blue today. What’s more, the
view right in front of me is amazingly beautiful.”

Indiana blushed.
Does he mean me?
she
wondered. She shot a quick glance at her maid Misty for a sign of
confirmation, but Misty was staring fixedly over in the direction
of the bay.

Indiana followed her gaze. Morgan’s friend
and business partner, Cody Mills, was walking slowly toward them,
the sun shimmering behind him in the warm breeze.

Surely Misty isn’t interested in Mr.
Mills? Well, he is a handsome man, but in a prettier way than
Morgan. I myself don’t find pretty men attractive
. Indiana was
worried about Misty’s apparent attraction to Mr. Mills. Misty was a
maid, and Mr. Mills was a gentleman. That held no happy ending.