Leaving from Louisiana: The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge Book 12

Chapter 1

New Orleans, May 1882

Gieselle Dubois peered over the rim of her teacup and wondered what she’d ever seen in the man facing her. His tall, lanky frame sprawled out on the sofa, arms over the back, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He’d changed in the four years he’d been away at college, and not for the better.

Sam Grimes hadn’t lost his dark good looks, but the sparkle in his brown eyes she remembered from his boyhood was replaced with a hardened glint. The mischievous grin of his former boyish face had turned into a sneer.

She’d known Sammy since they played hoops in her courtyard. Their parents had watched the childhood friendship grow and started planning their future before either of the youngsters became aware of what those plans were. Still, both Gieselle and Sam had assumed they’d get married when they grew up.

That future had seemed so far away when Gieselle started finishing school and Sam had enrolled in Harvard. At first they’d exchanged letters every other week, but those letters dwindled during the following four years to nothing.

What affection Gieselle had held for Sam had also dwindled. Although she was never presented to society as her friends were, she engaged in an active social life, attending balls and soirees. Her calling card and dance card were always full. But everyone knew the daughter of the city’s richest riverboat owner was off limits.

Then Sam returned, dressed to the nines and full of his own importance. He’d been home for at least six weeks and had only come calling three times, yet he acted like they should pick up where they left off four years ago. He hadn’t said so, but she knew he expected her to start planning their wedding.

In truth, she couldn’t remember him ever proposing, and she certainly had never accepted. Her friends thought him the catch of the season, but they could have him as far as she was concerned. Gieselle had decided she’d never marry him, even if she were to remain a spinster. The only problem was she didn’t know how to let him know.

“Gieselle, have you heard a word I’ve said?”

She jumped at his caustic tone and her gaze flew to Sam. He leaned forward, hands clenched into fists between his knees. Her teacup still rested in her lap and she feared setting it on the table lest her hand shake. She wouldn’t let him see that he’d scared her.

With a smile she didn’t feel, she faced him. “I’m sorry, Sam. I guess you caught me woolgathering. What did you say?”

“I was telling you about my position in the President’s cabinet and our new house in Washington.”

“Washington D.C.?”

His face darkened to a shade of the red clay roads in North Georgia. She’d visited her cousin Julia there last summer. Then it hit her. Our new house.

He sat up straighter. “Of course, Washington D. C. I’m certainly not moving to Washington State. Didn’t they teach you geography at The Whitehalls?”

He referred to her finishing school. It was true, most of her studies centered on the social graces, but they did include academic courses. “You don’t have to shout, Sam. I know where Washington D.C. is, but why would you wish to move there? You have your father’s cotton plantation to manage.”

“James can handle that. I made friends in Harvard…connections…and that’s opened up the possibilities for a political career. This cabinet position is just a start, but it will lead to better things if we play our cards right.”

“What do you mean by we? I know nothing about politics. It gives me a headache when Papa starts up an argument with our dinner guests about Democrats and Republicans. I really don’t know the difference in them.”

She did know the difference. She and her parents frequently discussed political matters and she could argue her points as well as they did. But it was better that Sam lower his expectations of her.

If possible, Sam’s countenance turned more menacing. “Here’s a little education for you. The government isn’t run by the elected officials, but by the great hostesses in Washington, and you’re going to learn how they do it.”

“What? I have no desire to be a great hostess in Washington…or here for that matter.” It was true. She was good and tired of trying to mix guests to make for a pleasant evening. Tired of the haughty looks, the gossip, the protocol.

Sam inched further toward her. Their knees were almost touching so she scooted as far from him as possible. “You’d best listen to me, Gieselle. We’re not children, playing make-believe anymore. Our destiny is set for us. You and I must be married within the month—a fortnight would be better. I have to report for duty on May, the fifth. The Grant administration will expect you to be on my arm.”

He would not make her cower. She had her own destiny and it wasn’t as Sam Grimes’s wife. “Why would the Grant administration expect you to have a wife?”

Slapping his palms on his knees, he gave her some space. “Because I told them I was married.” He huffed a great breath. “I’ve discussed this with your father and he’s given us permission to marry quickly. You don’t have to worry over the ceremony. My parents are making the arrangements. Mother will get with your mother tomorrow.”

Gieselle could only stare at him. Her mouth went dry and, realizing her teacup was empty, plunked it down on the table. She shot from her chair and made for the front door, Sam at her heels.

He took her by the shoulders and turned her around. “Darling, I’m sorry I upset you. I thought your father would have already told you.”

Her father was in St. Louis on a business trip. She hadn’t seen him since last Sunday. “Well, he didn’t.” She slipped out of his arms and opened the door.

She steeled herself. “Thank you for coming, Sam. I enjoyed your company until a while ago.” It took everything in her to say that. All of her mother’s teachings rose up to condemn her words, but she had no intention of ever seeing Sam Grimes again.

He smiled, a hint of the old boyhood charm showing. “Let’s take a walk around the French Quarter. The night is warm…and…I have to convince you I’m only thinking of what is best for both of us.”

“No thank you, Sam. I’ve heard enough and I wish to go to bed. Good-night.”

Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest, his face within inches of hers. “I’m tired of your attitude, Gieselle. When your father gets home, I’m sure he can convince you of your obligations.” He pressed his fingers into her forearm with each word.

She tried to pull out of his grip. “Let go, you’re hurting me.” She wasn’t afraid—not yet. She could scream. Mama was at the top of the stairs in her sitting room with the door open. Also, a half dozen servants were within hollering distance, as Maydell, their cook, would say.

“Has Mr. Grimes left, Gieselle?” Mama’s voice carried from the top of the stairs.

Sam released Gieselle so quickly, she staggered backward. He reached to steady her, but she stepped out of the way. “I was just leaving, Mrs. Dubois.” Sam’s voice changed to what would be expected of a respectful suitor. “Thank you again for a delicious dinner.”

Mama didn’t respond, and Sam finally walked through the doorway. Gieselle shut and locked the door behind him.

She gathered her skirts and rushed up the stairs, finding Mama standing in the hall. “We need to talk, Gieselle.” Mama had heard everything.

Gieselle followed her to her parents’ suite. “I’m not going to marry Sam, Mama, if that’s what you wish to talk about.” People said she was headstrong, and maybe she was, but deciding on a mate was the most important decision in life, aside from becoming a Christian.

Mama sat on the lounge in her boudoir and gestured to the matching side chair. “I agree you cannot marry that man. After he returned home this last year, he’s obnoxious. I fear your father hasn’t really spent much time with him, and it’s going to be tricky convincing him you and Sam cannot wed.”

“Why tricky? I’ll simply tell Papa when he gets back from St. Louis. He’s always been reasonable and I know he loves me.”

Mama smiled the same way she had since Gieselle was a little girl—a smile meant to chase away fears. “Yes, he loves you. You are the sunshine in his life. Still, he has business connections with the Grimes’s, and it won’t be easy to end your engagement to Sam from a social viewpoint.”

She slipped her hand inside the lounge’s cushion and pulled out a letter. “Do you remember anything about your Aunt Liddy?”

Gieselle had seven aunts. Her mother came from a big family of eight girls and four boys. All her siblings lived in Louisiana except for Aunt Liddy, who’d moved away when Gieselle was ten. But she still remembered. “Yes, certainly. She was very pretty with strawberry blonde hair and a sweet smile. I was a flower girl at her wedding to Uncle Morris. They moved out west, and bought a cattle ranch if I recall.”

“That’s right. And I’m sure you recall Morris died in an avalanche almost two years ago, but we couldn’t go to the funeral because both your father and I had the flu.” Gieselle had just turned twenty at the time. She could have gone to the funeral to represent the family but was worried sick about her parents, who were very ill.

“Poor Aunt Liddy. I know you and Papa tried your best to get her to sell the ranch and move back here so she’d have family around her.”

Mama nodded thoughtfully. “My baby sister is the sweetest thing, but she is stubborn. She insisted she would continue running the ranch. She and Morris had built up the ranch and she wasn’t about to let it go.”

Gieselle reached for the letter. “You got a letter from her. How is she doing?”

“Not well at all. She had a terrible accident recently and broke both legs.”

Gieselle’s hand flew to her mouth. She was truly shocked. “How in the world did that happen?”

“She fell off the barn roof.”

Lowering her hand, Gieselle stared at her mother as if she hadn’t heard right. “What was she doing on the barn roof?”

“Nailing in new shingles.” When Gieselle passed Mama another startled look, Mama offered a sad smile. “Since Morris died, the ranch has gone down. Liddy has had to let most of her help go. She says she only has one hired hand left, but she’s looking to hire another man. Still, she gets out there and does the work needed herself. Personally, I can’t imagine.”

Gieselle glanced at the letter but the words swam before her.

“She has no female servants,” Mama said. “As you can read between the lines, she’s probably humiliated having to ask the hired man to empty her chamber pot.”

The letter wasn’t long and it only took Gieselle a minute to read. “She did have medical attention. There’s a lady doctor who kept her in her clinic for a week.” She lifted her eyes from the letter and peered at Mama. “Surely that wasn’t long enough.”

“I’m sure Liddy insisted she return to the ranch as soon as her bones started knitting; however, her range of motion must be very limited, as she has to use some pulley ropes to lift herself from the bed to the chamber pot.”

Gieselle nodded. “And that’s as far as she can go. Poor dear.”

Mama shoved to her feet and reached for the letter Gieselle held out. “You’re right that someone in the family should go to see about her. I think that someone should be you. Since you’re at odds right now.”

Gieselle’s head jerked up. “Me?” She’d never been further west than East Texas, and then only to attend Uncle Howard’s funeral.

“Yes, it will give you the perfect excuse to escape Sam Grimes. Hopefully, he’ll find someone else to marry. Surely he can find someone in Washington.”

“That’s true. I can’t think why he believes I would be an asset to him.”

Mama threw her arms wide. “Now let’s get down to the practical matters.” She rose and brushed out the folds of her dressing gown. “You’ll need an escort.”

“Why?” Giselle protested. She’d turned twenty-two her last birthday—a grown woman. “Hattie can go with me. The rails and coach lines are very safe now. Every small town has a lawman.”

“You always were independent, even as a child. I suppose now that you’ve received your inheritance from your Godmother Wiggins, you have a reason to be independent. No woman can be truly independent without her own money.” Mama scrutinized her in that way that always made Gieselle squirm.

“Hattie can’t go. Her mother is poorly and she won’t leave New Orleans anytime soon. I’ve been trying to hire a new maid for you, a companion, but none I’ve interviewed want to go into the western wilds. They read those dime novels and fear Indians and outlaws.”

Gieselle tried to catch up to what her mother was saying. All this was new to her. “You’ve been planning this for some time, haven’t you?” She sent a penetrating glare in the same manner Mama did. She was very like her mother in ways and thinking. Papa said of all their ten children, she was most like Mama.

“I knew you had to get away from Sam Grimes, even before I received Liddy’s letter. But Liddy’s need is urgent and understandable. Only, we don’t have as much time as I’d hoped.”

Gieselle nodded. It all made sense now. Mama had never trusted Sam, even when he was charming, and Gieselle had to admit, she hadn’t trusted him, either. “I agree I must leave immediately. I’ll be fine traveling alone. I’ll take my pistol, and you know I’m not afraid to use it.”

Mama laughed. “Your father wouldn’t let you leave without an escort, but he’s away for several more days. I’m certain you’ll be fine with God’s protection…and your pistol.”

Gieselle grinned. Mama was practical, but she was a firm believer in God. She relied on her faith and was never one to be over-protective as some of Gieselle’s friends’ mothers were. Mama was a perfect example of the Proverbs 31 woman and Gieselle hoped to follow in her footsteps.

Mama had ambled to the French doors leading out on the balcony. She turned, a serious glint in her eyes. “You are beautiful, Gieselle, and very persuasive when you wish to be. Besides you have a look and manner of innocence about you men find irresistible.”

Gieselle crossed the room and kissed her mother’s cheek. “You are prejudiced, just like Papa, but I love both of you for it.” She pivoted to look out on the lights of the city. With the doors open, they could hear the muffled sounds of the revelers in the French Quarter. “I’m going to miss you and,” she threw out her hand toward the scenery, “this.” She drew in a fortifying breath. “But I want to go immediately. I won’t be able to sleep, knowing Aunt Liddy is in such need.”

“You have until Sunday to leave before your papa returns. You’ll need that time to pack.”

Gieselle laughed. “It won’t take that long to pack, Mama. Hattie and I can get it done tonight and I can leave in the morning. One trunk will be more than enough. All I’ll need are a few serviceable dresses. I’m fairly confident I won’t need any evening gowns and bustles out on Aunt Liddy’s ranch.”

Mama cocked an inquisitive brow. “Do you have any serviceable dresses?”

It wasn’t an idle question. Gieselle twisted her mouth in thought. “I have some skirts and shirtwaists. They’ll have to do.” Her eyes popped wide as she thought of something else. “I’ll have to ride horseback, probably astride. I doubt Aunt Liddy even has a sidesaddle. How could you do ranch chores on those?”

“If that’s the case,” Mama said, “I’m sure Liddy has a riding costume you could borrow. She certainly won’t need hers while she’s laid up.”

Air whooshed out of Gieselle’s lungs. “That’s right. I can alter hers until I can buy my own.”

Mama had no comment for that. She strode to her bureau and came back, holding out a wad of bills to Gieselle. “It goes without saying that Liddy is in a hard way financially. She should just sell out and come home. I’m depending on you to convince her of that. But it will be weeks before she recovers. This money is for you to hire a maid and cook.”

Gieselle took the money, but frowned. From what she heard of Aunt Liddy, the woman had her pride and wouldn’t be pleased for someone, even her niece, coming in with servants. “I don’t know, Mama. It’s hard to find servants out west. Most people don’t have inside help. I’m sure Aunt Liddy would want more cowhands than maids or cooks.”

She fingered the bills and stuffed them inside her waistband. “Besides, I can cook.” Indeed, she loved to help Maydell in the kitchen. She enjoyed cooking, especially baking.

“I know you have a talent in the kitchen, dear, but you’re going to be helping Liddy regain her health. That will be your most important job—that, and convincing her to come home.”

That made sense, but Gieselle knew instinctively that Aunt Liddy considered her ranch and the little town of Rattlesnake Ridge to be her home.

***

Time slipped by quickly and it must have been nearly midnight before Gieselle finished packing her trunk and carpetbag. She got ready for bed but excitement made sleep impossible. She swung around in a circle, taking in the comforts of her bedroom, from the canopied bed to her intricately carved chests and chifforobe. She would miss her home, but Aunt Liddy needed her.

It was a good feeling to be needed. Her gaze fell on the painting of her namesake—sixth great grandmother, Gieselle Bardot. Her ancestor had left France in the early sixteen hundreds as a casket girl. She had come to New Orleans in the second wave of casket girls—so called because they carried all their possessions in a casket trunk—to marry Aaron Bardot, the son of a sugarcane farmer. She couldn’t be called a mail-order bride, because she was assigned to the man she would marry and never even corresponded with her future mate.

Gieselle had read some of sixth great Grandmother Gieselle’s letters to her husband when he was away from home and his answering letters. In those letters it became evident theirs was a love match.

That’s what Gieselle wanted for her marriage—a love match. She’d wait until she met a man who would love her. A man she would love with all her heart. Like sixth great Grandmother Gieselle loved sixth great Grandfather Aaron Bardot.

She donned her wrapper and stepped out onto the balcony. The sultry southern breeze caressed her face. The wind held the smell of a storm at sea. Distant lightning flashed on the horizon, confirming her thoughts.

Moving to the gingerbread wrought iron railing, she stretched her arms out and leaned over, drawing in the aroma of gardenia and honeysuckle. Oh, she’d miss this place. This city. Her home.

No, this wasn’t really her home. It belonged to her parents, and she would have to move on eventually. Find her love. Build their own home. Grow their own family. Like sixth great Grandmother Gieselle, she might have to move out on faith and travel far.

Maybe all the way to Rattlesnake Ridge, Nevada.