“See, I told you.”
“So how did you meet him?” Marilee asked breathlessly.
“Why is your hair down?” Jane inquired. “I’ll bet that’s why he was so taken with you. You have lovely hair, Annalise. I don’t know how a man could resist touching it.”
“Gosh, do you think that’s it?” Annalise gasped, fingering her long dark locks. “I’d hate to think that Ty would be so shallow.”
“Of course not,” Callie Mae added firmly, scowling at Jane. “Ty is one of the most respectable men I know. The Wainwrights own hundreds of acres of land and have a huge spread. He could marry just about any woman he wanted. I’m sure it was much more than your hair, Annalise. Anyone with half a brain can see what a special person you are if they just take the time to look. You’re sweet and kind and loving. I’m not a bit surprised that the first man to get to know you wants you for his own. Come on girls, let’s get back to work. Annalise, why don’t you go up the back way and rest for a while. I’m sure you worked plenty hard at Laurie’s and need a break.”
“I would like a few quiet minutes to think,” Annalise replied gratefully. “My thoughts are a bit jumbled right now.”
“Take all the time you need, honey.”
“Thank you, Callie Mae,” Annalise said softly as she went up the stairs while Callie Mae and the girls filed back into the bar room.
Once in her room, Annalise slipped off her skirt and shirtwaist, draping them over a chair and loosened her corset. Picking up her brush, she sat down and began drawing it through her hair. What did she really know about the man she’d just agreed to marry? They talked for maybe an hour.
Ty was very handsome with his warm brown eyes and sandy hair. He had an engaging smile and a pleasant speaking voice, deep but not rough or scary like some men. His body was hard and strong, he’d proven that when he’d easily swept her out of harm’s way and again when he lifted her into his arms, but he’d treated her gently and carefully, like a man fully aware of his strength.
He had a sense of humor, yet could be firm when he wanted, hence the threat of spankings if she didn’t behave herself. That was a little unnerving, but Annalise had no doubt she would be able to avoid the entire issue. After all, she was hardly a naughty girl by nature and most people considered her extremely compliant.
Ty’s kisses were earth shattering, causing her pulse to race and her breathing to accelerate to an alarming level. At one point she wondered if she might faint, but at the time it didn’t seem so frightening, not with him there to catch her.
Maybe she should consider kissing another man, just for comparison. Ty was adamantly against it of course, and the last thing she wanted was to suffer the embarrassment of a spanking, but on the other hand, shouldn’t a girl have knowledge of such things before she walked down the aisle? What if all kisses from attractive men were delicious? If it turned out they were, would that make her a wanton woman, not suitable for marriage?
Oh, it was so confusing. Never in a million years had she imagined she would even get a genuine offer of marriage, unless of course it was from a widower looking for someone to take care of his children. Now she’d agreed to marry a man she barely knew, a young, handsome man who made her heart flutter. Ty had definite ideas about inappropriate behavior and its consequences. After spending nearly all of her life under the control of the orphanage matron, was she letting her new-found freedom slip through her fingers too easily?
The headache she had earlier was back with a vengeance. Laying down her brush, she mixed a packet of headache powder in a glass of tepid water and drank it down quickly. Crawling under the sheet in her chemise and petticoat she fell asleep listening to Fancy sing of lost love.
CHAPTER 13
The sun was but a glow on the horizon when Morgan rode toward the secluded area alone. Twice during the week he’d made the same trip, hoping for word from Cara and wasting his time. He should have known she wouldn’t veer from their agreed upon schedule. She was nothing if not regimented and in truth she would have made a fine officer in her own right. Cara followed the rules and protocol, never straying from her plans. The one time she’d ventured from her life blueprint was marrying him, and they both knew how well that turned out.
It was becoming more and more difficult to think of her as his wife. He was a different man here in Kansas. As a husband, he’d been faithful, but in hindsight that may have been because his manner discouraged any sort of familiarity. He knew he often came off as cold or unfeeling to members of the opposite sex, and once he’d overheard two of Cara’s friends discussing him. Oh, they thought he was ‘nice to look at,’ but they also referred to him as ‘a machine’ and ‘too stern and rigid’ to be much fun. He realized they were somewhat justified in their opinion of him. He had been rigid. The military and the significant losses he’d suffered had frozen his emotions until he could only put one foot in front of the other and complete his assignments. In the end, he could no longer even do that.
Coming to Kansas changed everything. He was alive again in the most basic of ways. The cloudless blue sky as he worked the farm drew his eyes to the heavens. He appreciated the warmth of the sun on his tanned face. When he groomed the horses, the feel of their strong muscles under his hands relaxed the ever-present tension in his chest. He delighted in Emma’s cooking and ate like a damn pig, he thought with a smile. It was a good thing he ran every morning and worked hard or he’d hate to think what his waistline would look like.
Morgan rode by the area and doubled back. Although it was unlikely anyone would catch on to his frequent visits, he didn’t want to take any chances. Quietly, he maneuvered his way between the trees until he entered the small clearing and dismounted. The package was right where it should be and he leaned against a tree and scanned Cara’s missive before looking further into the pouch.
Morgan,
I hope this finds you well and that you are managing. I’m sorry I can’t send you any sneakers or running gear; it would be too conspicuous and possibly dangerous to the present economy given the fact that these items have not yet been invented in your time.
I have enclosed a jar of analgesic cream along with the formula for making more. It’s actually an old Native American recipe and the ingredients should be readily available in the area. Not knowing the nature of the injury, I’m afraid I’m limited to what I can do.
The information you requested re: Callie Mae Walker was difficult to locate. It was quite by chance that I discovered a small article in the Wichita Herald that mentioned her by name. It seems that she came to a distressing and untimely end and I fervently hope that you are not planning to intervene. We discussed, at length, the dangers of interfering in the natural course of events and we here at the institute are counting on you to adhere to your promise. We have no way of knowing what chaos a single act…well, you know what I mean. While you are there you must do everything in your power not to damage the fragile fabric of the future.
I realize that you may, in the end, decide not to return. We have weighed the pros and cons of such a decision, but the fact that you are assuming the identity of another has some sway. The first Morgan Whittaker, from what we have been able to gather, never returned from his military duties with General Sheridan’s forces. It was assumed by all that he was killed in action and his body was not recovered, so you should be safe as long as you don’t reveal your true identity. Please be careful, Morgan. There is much more at stake than you having a good time in 1880.
I have enclosed a copy of the original newspaper article regarding Ms. Walker. As you will see, there were several other young women involved, although none met with Ms. Walker’s fate. If you are bound to somehow rescue the others, feel free to proceed, but under no circumstances are you to go beyond that.
Cara
Morgan pulled the jar of medication from the pouch and transferred it to his saddle bag before carefully unfolding the two remaining papers in the pouch. Quickly his eyes scanned them and he shoved the recipe into his bag before his attention locked on the article.
October 2nd, 1880, Marion County, Kansas
Miss Callie Mae Walker was killed Friday night, September 29th, 1880 in a saloon brawl that turned deadly. According to witnesses, shortly after 10 p.m. several drovers from the Triple C ranch, out of Missouri got into an argument. Pistols were drawn and shots flew, injuring several patrons as well as two of The Duchess’s female employees. There are several conflicting accounts of Miss Walker’s demise. One witness stated that Miss Walker, while trying to restore calm, was accidentally shot. Another by-stander reported that Miss Walker mistakenly shot herself with a revolver she’d taken to carrying on her person. The condition of the other female employee is not known at this time. Miss Walker, the daughter of Reverend Thomas Walker of Sully’s Bend, was once engaged to a prominent member of Wichita society, George Montgomery. After breaking off their engagement, Miss Walker purchased and opened The Duchess. Let this be a lesson to the gentlemen of this state. While we have given our women the vote, that does not mean they do not need our guidance. In this reporter’s opinion, had Miss Walker followed her esteemed father’s wishes, she might still be alive today.
