Another diamond glittered on Abigail’s finger moments later, as she and Cal faced a brass bordered altar lined with a wreath of resplendent yellow roses.
Inspecting this lush floral display with an analyzing eye, Abigail cocked her head as she whispered to her groom, “These flowers were taken from our ranch, yes? Well, they are lovely, but I’ve been thinking that we might try a new brand of seed….”
She broke off as her impatient groom silenced her with a binding kiss.
“Hush up and marry me already, sweet Abigail.”
Abigail thought a moment, then nodded.
“All right then. Have it your own dag gum way,” she relented, adding as she took her husband’s hand and turned with him in the direction of the altar, “Ring first, seed later. One thing I know for sure; for you and me Cal, there will always be roses.”
THE END
A Heart in the West – A Clean Western Romance
Chapter 1
It was the late summer of 1871 when Cora Sutton left from the big city and boarded the Lil’ Miss, a prize addition to the East Missouri Rail operations. She boasted less than a week’s journey from Boston to the Western territory, and just two and a half weeks to California, notwithstanding unexpected delays in the form of weather and shady characters with sights on her cargo.
It can’t very well be all that bad, Cora Sutton had thought as she boarded the train, her carpet bag nearly falling at the seams. Perhaps she should have stowed away books in a travel chest, and not in her bag. But what else was she to do with the time? Cora laughed as she bumbled down the aisle to her coach, chiding at her wandering imagination.
Train bandits don’t really exist, not in real life, she said to herself. And the Western territory surely isn’t all that wild…
The thought would prove a cruel stroke of irony in the days to follow.
For the time being, all she had to set her sights on was taming her imagination from getting away from her. Cora admitted to herself that she was actually quite excited. A serendipitous ad in the paper. A snap decision. And the promise of a new life out West. It all sounded rather romantic for a simple hosiery girl at Freeman’s Department Store--well, former hosiery girl. One day, she was living a dull, hapless life on the bustling streets of New York City, and the next she was set for life. Or she would be, as there were some small details yet to attend to.
It started about two months before the Lil’ Miss even slugged her way into Grand Central Station. Cora worked as the assistant stocker at one of the finest department stores in Manhattan. The marble ceilings rose as high as three levels, with bright crystal chandeliers glittering in the light. The sound of women, of the most well-to-do-sort, clicked their shoes and brushed their puffed dresses through the ground floor, eyeing the delights the store had to offer. For Cora, the closest she could ever come to such a life was spent in the back closets of the store, stocking the hosiery and other ladies’ garments. It was quite the accomplishment even getting that far. Before hosiery girl, she had a stay as a seamstress, but not for long as she had little to no skill in such delicate matters. Then there was a brief stint working in a factory making women’s hat boxes, which proved to be a tedious task that required too much focus for a constant daydreamer. Nanny, flower girl, a shoemaker’s store clerk...and the list went on.
Life, she had long ago decided, was unutterably dull.
So it came to her surprise when she was informed she would no longer be needed at Freeman’s department store. There were always prettier, talented, more qualified girls to work the store and spruce up the general atmosphere. A new direction for a new age, she was told. And that new age did not include the likes of her.
That was what brought her to take the first step. To be exact, it was that and the upping of the next month’s rent.
“But Mrs. MacDonough, I’ll get a new job soon, ma’am. If you just give me a little more time, I can pay you what I owe.”
Cora’s mind drifted to an earlier conversation she had with her landlord, Mrs. MacDonough, a stout and rather stern Irish woman who rented out her building to all sorts, mostly immigrants and newcomers into the city.
“Aye, Co-ra, I can’t be bothered’ with ye all the time,” she bustled across the hallway carrying a basket of her linens, and Cora traced after her.
“Ye never bring yer rent on time,” the woman continued in her thick accent. “And on top o’ that, I hear ye been sacked from Freeman’s this mornin’.”
“You already know about that?” Cora followed behind.
Mrs. MacDonough stopped and sighed as she waved her finger toward Cora’s face.