| |
Culpeper Virginia, April 1871
Anastacia Sheeley stood before the mirror in her room, admiring her reflection. The pink traveling suit she wore fit perfectly, as did the sunbonnet she placed neatly over her perfectly tidy hair. Fastening the bonnet with a large bow under her chin, she was satisfied with her appearance.
Even so, she sighed discontentedly, recalling the reason for the lovely new clothes. She was twenty-three, an old maid already by most standards. That was why she must go, off to Coffee Creek, Montana Territory to marry a stranger.
Her mother, really, was the one who’d wanted Anastacia married. Several men in the town had thought well of the young woman’s looks and come calling, only to change their minds when the time for a proposal came. For whatever reason, no man wanted her.
That was when they’d found Franklyn Chittick, a man who’d fought in the civil war. He owned a decently sized homestead, which he said would have proper housing by the time she arrived. Apparently, he’d been living in the barn he’d built.
Anastacia’s nose wrinkled at the thought of living in a barn, like some kind of beast. She imagined sleeping in a pile of hay, waking up with a filthy man in a filthy barn, smelling just like a filthy animal.
“Don’t think that way, Anastacia. Franklyn will be wonderful. He’ll be handsome and kind, and you’ll never want for anything.” She gave her reflection a wink. “Besides, darling, you know Mama would never marry you off into a disgusting barn.”
“Anastacia,” she heard Mama call. “Your coach is here.”
Despite her trepidation, she snatched her reticule, looping it over her wrist, then took her valise in hand. She glanced back, just once, saying a silent goodbye to her books, all full of adventures and information. Besides her mother, she’d miss her books most.
“Lord,” she prayed, hurrying down the stairs. “Keep me in your care. Watch over me in the days to come. And please, let Franklyn have a house ready.”
Sitting in the coach, Anastacia began to wonder about what her fiancé looked like. He’d never described himself, but she had been imagining him as a tall, strong, handsome man. Her face warmed as she recognized her vanity.
It had always been a struggle for Anastacia not to think too highly of herself, or expect far too much of other people. She judged them on their looks though she knew it was wrong. Still, she treasured beauty.
When the coach stopped, her face paled. Though she always tried to seem calm and ladylike, she was afraid. Not once in twenty-three years had she been alone. She’d never gone more than twenty miles from Culpeper, let alone left Virginia.
Saying a quick prayer, she composed herself and stepped out of the coach. She pulled a few coins from her reticule for the coachman, then retrieved her valise. Giving the man a polite nod, she headed for the train.
It was a frightening thing to set foot on the train. It reminded her of a whale from her books in size. The metal beast had a heart lit aflame and breathed smoke from its spout. Yes, the train was a very frighteningly new thing.
“Hello, ma’am,” said the conductor, tipping his hat. Anastacia nodded, gingerly stepping into the train car. “Don’t you worry. Travel by train has come far enough. It’s quite safe.”
Despite the reassurance, Anastacia rushed to her seat, settling in with a sigh. She glanced nervously out the window, wishing she’d allowed her mother to accompany her to the train. But goodbye was a hard thing.
When the train began to move, her hands clenched together in her lap, knuckles white. Watching the world scurry by set her stomach churning. Squeezing her eyes shut, Anastacia prayed, her lips moving in silent petitions.
What on God’s green earth would possess a body to create a metal beast that spit smoke and hurled itself through the country faster than anyone had a right to go? It was madness, sheer madness.
Anastacia wished there had been a wagon train heading for Montana. As it was, trains would only get her as far as Chugwater Wyoming. She’d be meeting Franklyn there. They would marry though she had never imagined her wedding taking place in a town called Chugwater. The name was ridiculous.
“Lord,” she whispered, her heart racing from apprehension. “If I can trust you to guide me, to watch over me, please do so. I can’t do this alone.” It took a lot for Anastacia, with her pride and vanity, to admit when she couldn’t handle things.
After a while, her heart slowed to a regular pace and her mind stopped swirling with doubts. Everything would be fine. It just had to be.
***End of Bonus Chapter***
See how the story ends:
The Cowboy's Arrogant Beautiful Bride
