Indiana Goes West (Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 1) Read online

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  Morgan lay in bed thinking over the afternoon’s events. Morgan could scarcely believe his luck when the home to which he and his Uncle Charles had been invited to dinner was that of the family of the beautiful lady.

  Did he believe in love at first sight? Morgan wasn’t sure. He had always scoffed at such things in the past. Yet when he had first laid eyes on Indiana, his heart had thumped furiously in his chest and his mouth had run dry. It was not just that she had proven to be a generous soul, for he had been struck by her beauty.

  Is it possible to fall in love within hours of meeting someone? he wondered, as he lay on his bed, tossing and turning.

  Chapter 5

  Indiana was sitting in the garden courtyard with her sisters, Montana and Leah, and her best friend, Diana.

  “I think Mother’s given up trying to marry me to that awful Mr. Hollway,” Indiana announced.

  Diana was clearly pleased for her. “Indiana! That’s great news! Who does she have in mind instead?”

  Indiana chuckled. “You know my mother too well, Diana. She now seems set on Mr. Morgan Chase. Do you know him? He’s just visiting town, but his business partner is Charles Walton.”

  “He’s awfully good looking,” Montana added. “I suggested to Indiana that she make eyes at him.”

  Indiana said. “You know, Diana, it’s not fair that we can’t have any say in who we marry.”

  Diana wrung her hands. “It’s a man’s world, Indiana.” Her voice was a little more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry for your family. If you had a brother, you wouldn’t be in his predicament.”

  “The inheritance laws need to be changed,” Indiana said. “It’s awful that Mother is answering those mail order bride advertisements and trying to push me onto the first wealthy man she sees.”

  Diana laughed. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration, Indiana, but Mr. Chase sounds like a good prospect. Anyone would have to be better than Mr. Hollway.”

  Indiana went to speak, but Montana waved her hand at her. “She’s changed her mind now, Diana, that’s for sure, after she saw him, that is.”

  Diana raised her eyebrows. “So how good-looking is he?”

  “Very,” Indiana said forcefully, and the girls collapsed in helpless peals of laughter. “But after Mother finds a husband for me, she’ll start on the rest of you.

  “Leah isn’t interested in boys,” Montana said. “She’s too young.”

  “Nonsense!” Diana exclaimed. “My mother was married at a younger age than Leah. She’d better get interested soon and pick out a suitable man she likes, before the decision is made for her.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m always saying.” Montana splashed water from the fountain at Leah, who squealed and in turn splashed water on all the girls.

  Leah was indignant. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here. I love painting and design. What’s wrong with that? Anyway Indiana, Mother said if you don’t marry a wealthy man in a hurry, she will answer mail order advertisements for me, and for Montana too.”

  Indiana’s voice rose in surprise. “Surely you’re mistaken, Leah.”

  “No, Indiana, it’s a fact.”

  “Why that’s scandalous!” Indiana was horrified.

  Montana and Diana murmured agreement.

  Leah nodded at Indiana, and then changed the subject. “Who wants to go to the library and read?”

  Everyone thought that good idea, except for Indiana. “I’ve read just about every book in the library. Would you mind if I left early? Mother wants me to take a message to the banker for her. I’ll talk to you soon, Diana.”

  “Do you mean Wyatt Greenfield, Indiana?” Montana said the word ‘Wyatt’ forcefully.

  “Yes, the banker, Mr. Wyatt Greenfield. Why, Montana?”

  “No reason.” Montana’s tone was just as forceful and her face turned beet red.

  As Indiana made her way out of the garden, she figured she had just discovered the identity of Montana’s mystery crush.

  Chapter 6

  Indiana paused at the front door of the bank before going in. She looked up at the building, which practically took up the whole corner. It was a grand building, almost intimidatingly so. It had four floors, although the first floor was the only one the public was permitted to enter. Indiana was no stranger to money. All that was going to change now that her father had died. Indiana had grown up around wealth, living in such a large house, with servants to attend to her every need. She was used to large, extravagant buildings like the Wells Fargo Nevada National Bank. However, now she was forced to think about money for the first time in her life.

  Indiana stood outside the doors still, and turned in a slow circle. In this section of San Francisco, it was uncommon to see someone of the lower classes, and everyone she saw passing, whether they were walking, or riding in a car or carriage, was dressed nicely. The women wore their large skirts, the men, their tall hats. Most of the men walking carried walking sticks, all polished nicely. One man walked by with a gray mustache and a brand new top hat, his hand wrapped around the knob of his walking stick. Indiana noted that the knob was a rather impressive looking jewel of some sort. Once, Indiana would have thought nothing of it. Now, it made her stomach turn slightly.

  She gripped the envelope her mother had given her tightly in her hand and turned once more, back toward the bank. She steeled herself, and stepped inside, the doorman bowing low as he pulled the heavy door outward and open for her.

  “Ma’am,” he said. Indiana nodded her head, and slipped past him without a word. The man looked to be in his forties, and had rounded rosy cheeks. He stood and opened the door for people who had more money than him all day, and Indiana couldn’t understand why he did it. She had been thinking about the servants she had grown up around as well lately, most of them dismissed by her mother, who for the first time in her life was feeling the need to pinch her purse tightly.

  There had been a butler, cooks, and maids, and men who kept the grounds cut and cleaned. They were people who served others, and Indiana did not think she would ever be able to do that. Yet she did acknowledge that almost any job she could think of served others in a way. A butcher cut meat for his customers, and a banker moved money for his. But to pull open doors for people perfectly capable of doing so themselves, to clean the dishes of people who could do so just as well, was nevertheless now a strange concept to her. She thought of Misty, her friend first, and her maid second. Misty was a part of the family. In fact, Misty had been the only maid retained by her mother, who had been unwilling to send the girl away.

  Inside, the bank was just as impressive as it was from the street. Indiana stood in the lobby, a massive thing with stuffed chairs and couches, and tables made from rich and stained mahogany wood. There were small offices here for some of the more important bankers, hemmed in from the lobby by glass and wood, their owners’ names stenciled impressively on the doors in thick gold lettering.

  At the back of the lobby was the counter. It had six windows which bankers stood behind, and conversed with their customers. A line had formed back there, as the morning was one of the busiest times for the bank. Each window was open, and the bankers were courteous but fast, clearly eager to get through the morning rush.

  Luckily, Indiana did not need to wait in line, as she needed to speak with Wyatt Greenfield, who had been Indiana’s family’s banker for as long as she could remember, despite the fact he was not much older than she.

  As Indiana moved to his office near the front door, she saw that his door was closed. A quick glance through the window revealed that he was at his desk, speaking with a man. She would have to wait, after all.

  Indiana chose a padded leather chair nearby. She sat, crossing her legs demurely and tapping the envelope on her raised knee as she waited. After five or so minutes, Wyatt stood and opened the door, and Indiana got her first good look at the other man.

  It was Mr. Morgan Chase, the man she had met at dinner. He was as attracti
ve and handsome as ever, his jaw still impressive and square, his eyes still kind. He shook hands with the banker once more, and then he turned and his eyes fell on Indiana.

  “Miss White,” he said, smiling broadly and nodding his head. He held a wide brimmed hat, the sort that cowboys wore.

  “Mr. Chase,” Indiana said, standing quickly and hurrying forward. She remembered herself just short of leaping into the young man’s arms, and she stopped in front of him.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I am well, thank you, sir,” she replied, though now that she was looking into his green eyes, she was more than fine.

  “You have some business, Miss Indiana?” Wyatt Greenfield interrupted, and for the first time in her life Indiana was somewhat irritated by him. Not really of course, but she did not want to stop looking at Mr. Chase.

  She turned to look at the banker. “Yes, my mother wanted me to give you this,” she said, holding out the envelope. She had no idea of the contents.

  “Come in then, please, Miss Indiana, and have a cup of coffee with me. I need some this morning. I must confess to oversleeping!”

  Indiana smiled at Wyatt. Of course, she would rather speak with Mr. Chase, but she had no option. She turned to him. “Mr. Chase, It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Agreed, Miss Indiana,” Morgan said, teasing her just ever so slightly. “I do hope I might see you again soon.”

  Indiana blushed, but Morgan turned and headed for the bank entrance. She stepped into Wyatt’s office.

  “I’ll get that coffee,” he said, hurrying out of his office. She waited only for a few minutes. Soon Wyatt was back, shutting the office door with his hip and setting a steaming cup of black coffee on his desk in front of Indiana. He moved around the desk with his own cup, and sat in his well worn chair.

  He reached to the side for a nearby platter of sugar and cream, and then set it on the desk between himself and Indiana. She poured cream into her coffee, stirring it with a silver spoon, her eyes watching the white cream mix with the dark liquid, like clouds rolling across the night sky.

  Wyatt fixed his own cup with plenty of sugar and took a sip. “Now,” Mr. Greenfield said. “How is your dear mother?”

  “She is fine, thank you,” Indiana lied. Her mother, of course, was far from fine. As she had not produced sons, the family’s fortune had been passed to another family of three boys. They were Indiana’s cousins, and she liked them well enough, but not enough that she would be forced to marry an unsuitable man just because he was wealthy.

  “And how is your lovely sister, Montana?” the banker asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  “She is well as ever, thank you,” Indiana said, noting how Wyatt’s face lit up at the mention of her sister.

  Wyatt sipped his coffee. “And you? Everyone always weeps for the widow, but we mustn’t forget he was your father.”

  Indiana took a moment to think. It was true. Most callers to the mansion had been so concerned with her mother, that hardly anyone had spoken to her or her sisters. Leave it to the kindly banker to set that right. Indiana found the truth and spoke it. “I’m sad, but I feel all right. I would have liked more years with my father. He was a great man, but life doesn’t always go by our wishes, rather by God’s.”

  “Wise beyond your years,” Wyatt Greenfield said with a smile. “I’ve always said that about you, Miss Indiana. And you are acquainted with Mr. Chase?”

  “Yes, he came to dinner recently. His uncle was a close friend of my father’s.”

  “He appears to be a most seemly gentleman, does he not?” he said slyly.

  Indiana could not help but smile. “I fear as though you want me to confess my love to him,” she said, and this made Wyatt erupt into laughter.

  “Not at all!” he said. “I just see two young people so keen to speak, I almost felt bad about inviting you into my office.”

  “I almost felt bad because I almost declined,” Indiana said, and the two laughed again.

  “Business calls,” the banker said, pulling the folded letter from the envelope and reading it quickly. “Oh dear.” He was silent for a moment and then he looked up. He set down the letter and scribbled in a large ledger. When he was finished, he stood and hurried to his office door. “Please wait for one moment,” he said before he disappeared. He was gone longer this time. When he did return, he had a small case with him, a leather satchel with a flap lid, which was buckled closed.

  “Please take this with you,” he said. “I’ve enclosed a note to your mother. It is a loan.”

  Indiana felt tears well in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve always been kind to us.”

  Wyatt waved away her words. “Did you come by carriage?”

  Indiana shook her head. “You know how much I love my walks.”

  “I would prefer you not to walk home alone carrying this. Come with me,” he said, and he stood once more.

  Indiana took the bag and followed Wyatt out of his office, and then out of the bank entirely. The street was even busier than it had been when she entered the bank. Wyatt took her by the elbow so as to keep her close.

  “I shall hire a carriage for you,” he said, and just as his voice trailed off, the ground began to shake. It was over as soon as it had started, but there was no mistaking it. It had been a tremor.

  “What was that?” Indiana asked. She knew the answer, of course, but fear made her speak without thinking.

  “The ground settling,” Wyatt said. “Nothing more. Do not be alarmed.”

  Yet as Indiana looked around, she saw that she was not the only one who had been alarmed. A few people had quickened their pace, their eyes wide, and across the street a horse was rearing high.

  “Ah!” Wyatt said, and Indiana followed his gaze. Mr. Chase was coming up the street toward them. It was evident that when he had left the bank, he had gone shopping, for he carried a wrapped parcel under his arm. His hat was casting the upper part of his face in deep shadow. Wyatt waved the man over.

  “What may I do for you, sir?” Morgan asked.

  “Miss Indiana here needs to get home, and I’d prefer someone escort her there,” Wyatt said.

  He would have said more, but Morgan held up his hand. “Say no more,” he said with a smile. “I would be honored to accompany the lady home.”

  And with that, it was settled. Morgan offered Indiana his arm, and the young woman took it.

  Chapter 7

  “You must be carrying some sort of cash for you to need an escort, Miss White?” Morgan asked.

  Indiana was taken aback by his frankness of speech, and specifically, by his frankness about money, but she also found it refreshing. It just went to show that Morgan was not like most men, and certainly not like the stuffy ones who moved in her social circles in San Francisco.

  “Yes,” she said. “Of course, now that Father has died, it’s a loan, I’m afraid.”

  “Your father didn’t leave his inheritance to you?”

  Indiana laughed. “I’m not sure where you come from, Mr. Chase,” she said, “but a man’s wealth is left to men. I’m a woman, and I’m supposed to be supported by my own husband.”

  Morgan smiled down at her. “I didn’t know you were married, Miss White.”

  Indiana frowned. “Believe me, my mother will see to that soon enough.”

  Morgan scratched his chin as they walked. “I know I’m not in touch with the world you’re accustomed to, but shouldn’t that be your problem?”

  Indiana was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “Finding a husband. Why does your mother have a say in that?”

  “She does, I’m afraid,” she said, sighing. “She needs to make a match for me.”

  The two crested a large hill which looked down over an affluent neighborhood. In the distance Indiana could see their mansion, large and proud on the slight rise that was Nob Hill. They started toward the neighborhood.

  “I could have gotten us a carriage,” Morgan said.<
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  Indiana shook her head. “I love to walk.”

  “This sure is a tough city for walking,” Morgan said, “up, down, up, down. I don’t think I’ve stepped on level ground since I got here. It’s nothing like home.”

  “Tell me about your home.” Indiana normally would not have been so bold, but she found talking with Morgan to be easy.

  “Wyoming is the prettiest land you’ll ever come across,” Morgan said matter of factly. “We have it all. Sweeping plains, beautiful lakes. A tree.”

  Indiana could not help but smile widely. “A tree?”

  “A tree.”

  “As in one?”

  “One tree! How many more does a state need?”

  “You are too much, Mr. Chase,” Indiana managed to say between her chuckles.

  Morgan tipped his hat. “If I may be permitted to call you Miss Indiana, please just call me Morgan. That’s the way we do things in Wyoming.”

  “Very well, Morgan,” Indiana said, liking the way his name rolled off her tongue, and at the same time feeling quite daring for calling him by his Christian name.

  “I do love Wyoming,” Morgan went on. “I love to be out on the ranch, with the horses.”

  “I’ve only ever ridden in a carriage,” Indiana said.

  “What about you? Do you like it here?” Morgan asked.

  “I do,” Indiana said. “I like the hills, and going to the ocean. When it’s night, or dusk, that’s the best, when the sun is sinking behind the water and everything is orange and purple and still and beautiful.”

  “It sounds nice to hear you say it, but there’s one thing here I could do without,” Morgan said.

  “What’s that?” the girl asked him.

  “Those,” the man said, pointing to the sky.

  Indiana followed his gaze. Circling around, in a group six or so strong, were seagulls. “Well, no one likes the gulls,” she said.

  “I was walking the other day, and just as I was taking a bite of an apple, one swooped down and plucked the thing right from my hand.”