Page 14 of Seven Brides for Beau McBride (The McBrides of Montana #3)

Four

There was a commotion on the platform. Ellie was plastered to the window as they chugged into Bitterroot, and so witnessed it firsthand. Some poor girl was being chased around the station by a man more than twice her size. Good lord, what kind of lawlessness were they walking in to?

As she and Diana had changed trains and continued west, the stations had grown smaller and rougher, the towns barely worthy of the name.

It was exciting, but also nerve-wracking.

Ellie’s imagination took flight as they sped through sprawling plains, past homesteads and ranches, through cow towns and vast stretches of wilderness.

She felt like she’d been dropped into one of her books.

She saw actual cowboys eating at the half dime lunchrooms, their spurs jingling as they kicked their heels waiting for their coffee; she saw vast herds of cattle driven across the plains, raising clouds of dust the height of thunderheads; and she saw clusters of women in skimpy bright clothes calling to the open windows of the train, offering services that made Ellie blush to the roots of her hair.

Everything westward grew steadily wilder.

And now she was witnessing a poor young woman getting molested, possibly even assaulted, right before her eyes, and no one was doing anything to help her. No one even seemed to bat an eye.

It was appalling.

Although the girl seemed to be helping herself just fine. She was fast. She had the guy running circles around the little clapboard station; her blue dress was a blur through the dirty train window, she moved so quick.

“Diana, I don’t know about this. Look…” Ellie tugged at Diana’s arm, trying to get her to focus on the scene outside. “I think we might be witness to a murder!”

But Diana was busy pulling their carpetbags down from the racks above their heads, oblivious to what was unfolding on the platform. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. This place looks sweet enough. It’s not as rough as the last stop, at least. How cute is that little station with its clock?”

Diana was determinedly delusional. This place wasn’t even a town.

The woods were as thick as a fairytale forest, the kind of place where children were abandoned to their fate.

It was deep fall and everything had a mulchy look, discarded leaves littering the ground like the remnants of a forgotten celebration.

Here and there roughhewn log buildings peeked between the vast boles of the trees.

Ellie swallowed. Was she really going to strand herself here?

“Welcome to Bitterroot, folks!” There was a rooster of a man in a tidy uniform striding across the platform, acting for all the world like a girl wasn’t being molested right behind him.

He traversed the hard-packed strip of dirt, smiling jauntily at the disembarking miners, not one of whom seemed to care a whit about the beastly man chasing the girl around and around the station house.

Now and then the station master gave a blast of his shiny whistle and beamed proudly at the train as it settled on the tracks, billowing steam.

“Right on time, at ten past two.” He gestured upwards to the oversized clock.

Ellie didn’t move from her seat. She craned her neck to see if there was an actual town further down the road where she could find help for the girl—but there wasn’t even a road.

Ellie doubted they had any police. Maybe there was a sheriff somewhere?

But where…? There was nothing here. Only a little run of a creek with some raw cabins scattered around. No help in sight for a woman alone…

“I hate you!” The girl in blue screeched as she careened around the corner of the station, her voice carrying like one of the mill bells back home.

The man pursuing her snatched at the back of her dress, and she gave an outraged shriek as she streaked past. The station master barely acknowledged the disruption, smiling brightly and continuing to welcome the disembarking passengers.

Although he did stick his leg out as the girl’s attacker ran past, and the man went sprawling into the dirt.

“Goddamn, Bascom, you’ve ruined my new coat!”

“Really, Diana,” Ellie gulped. “It’s not too late to go back…” Ellie turned away from the window. Her heart was skittering at the raised voices. For a moment she was back in the tenement, with her stepfather yelling in her face.

“Don’t be such a goose.” Diana gave her a puzzled look. “This place is perfect! There’s not a factory in sight.”

Oh my, Diana was getting off the train. Ellie scrambled to follow. She didn’t fancy being left alone. There was a knot of miners still in the back of the carriage, and they made Ellie nervous with all their staring. She could feel their eyes on her as she stumbled down the aisle after Diana.

“Hold on.” Diana paused two rows back from the door. “How do I look?”

Ellie blinked. “What does it matter how you look?” Hadn’t she seen the state of this place? No one here was going to care if she had a hair out of place; everyone was walking around with ten inches of dirt on their hems.

“What does it matter? Ellie! We’re meeting our husbands. ”

Oh yes. Ellie nodded. Yes. Husbands. She’d been trying not to think about that. Whenever she did, her mind flew to dark places. Like isolated houses with locked attics, where wives were imprisoned by brooding husbands.

“Ellie!” Diana snapped. “Focus. Now is not the time for woolgathering.”

But it was. Now was exactly the time. Because what they were doing was unadulterated madness! They could be selling themselves into fates worse than death! How could she escape the threat if she didn’t imagine it first?

“How do I look?” Diana repeated firmly. “First impressions count.” She twirled on the spot.

“You look perfect,” Ellie admitted, clutching her carpetbag tightly and glancing over her shoulder at the miners as they watched Diana twirl.

They looked like starving men at a banquet.

Ellie’s palms were sweating terribly, and she imagined she felt a bit lightheaded.

She’d never fainted in her life, but there was a first time for everything.

“The dress looks good?” Diana was oblivious. “Ellie?”

Diana was in a new dress of printed calico the exact pink of fresh watermelon.

She’d taken great pains with it, and it had sweet little buttons, and lace at the wrists and collar.

Diana had a tenderness for lace and would have stitched it even to her bedsheets if she could.

The lush pink of the dress made her cheeks and lips bright, and her eyes seem even bluer than normal.

Her silvery blonde hair was swept up in a neat roll and she didn’t look at all like she’d just dragged herself thousands of miles across the country.

Whereas Ellie assumed she looked exactly as she felt, like someone who’d slept sitting up and hadn’t seen a bar of soap for days.

“Um… yes. The dress is lovely.” Why hadn’t she invested in smelling salts? Just because she’d never fainted, didn’t mean she never would.

Diana exhaled, relieved. “Good. I’d hate for him to regret it now.” She pinched her cheeks, even though they didn’t need it. “Don’t you dare put that bonnet on. You want your man to get a good look at you first.”

Your man. Ellie’s heart skidded unpleasantly. Her man. Mr. McBride. Beau’s brother. Or cousin. Or kinsman of some kind…

She had to pull herself together. She wasn’t a heroine in a book, able to faint into the arms of a dashing hero whenever she had the urge. She was in the wilds, with a bunch of woman-starved men, and she needed her wits about her. No fainting allowed.

“How do I look?” Ellie asked gingerly, glancing back out the window. Beau McBride was going to be mighty pleased when Diana stepped off this train looking like a romantic heroine, but how was Ellie’s prospective husband going to feel when he saw his?

She couldn’t see any soon-to-be husbands on the platform; there was only the girl and her attacker, who had erupted into a loud argument in the lee of the station. There didn’t seem to be anyone else waiting.

“You look just fine.” Diana’s voice yanked Ellie back to attention. Her friend took stock of Ellie, reaching out to fuss with her hair. “It was a good idea to braid it,” she said gently, as she tried to tuck stray strands away. “It’s kept it much neater than usual, even with all the traveling.”

It had been Diana’s idea to braid Ellie’s hair.

It had also been Diana’s idea to refashion Ellie’s ugly old brown Sunday dress, slicing away the high neck and revealing more skin than Mrs. Tasker would ever have allowed.

“You have very pretty collarbones,” Diana had said, when Ellie protested.

Now, as they stood on the train, Diana untied Ellie’s shawl, which she’d pulled tight, to make those collarbones visible again.

Ellie was painfully aware that the miners were watching every move and, as soon as Diana turned her back, she planned to re-tie the shawl.

Diana gave Ellie’s arm an excited squeeze. “Oh my, El, are we really doing this?”

“We don’t have to.” Ellie couldn’t keep the note of hope from her voice.

Diana rolled her eyes. “Come on, scaredy-cat.”

Ellie swallowed hard, re-tied her shawl, and followed her friend off the train.

At least she didn’t have to marry anyone straight away, she reassured herself.

She and Mr. McBride were just getting acquainted—if she didn’t like him, she could see Diana married to the Bourbon prince and then take a train back to Fall River.

Where she could sleep alone, and walk alone to the mill, and live every single day without Diana…

Oh, why had she brought that copy of the Matrimonial News back to the boardinghouse ?