Chapter 4

Chris took his time waking up. His head hurt, and for some reason, he felt like he'd done something stupid. Easing his eyes open, he saw Jake looking at him with an odd smile, and that only made him feel more and more like he'd made a perfect fool of himself. He knew it was stupid to let the whiskey take over, but by the way he felt, he'd done just that.

Jake looked out the window and then back at him. "There's something I have to tell you."

Sitting up in bed, Chris braced himself and then held his head and groaned. "What did I do? At least I'm not in jail. I know I drank too much. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Chris, you were married to a proxy bride yesterday. She should be on the stage by the weekend."

Chris exploded. "Married!" Then he held his head. "What do you mean, I got married? I don't know any woman that I'd want to marry." Chris jumped out of bed and had Jake by the shirt, shoving him against the wall. As cheap as the hotel was, Jake wondered how Chris hadn't shoved into the next room.

Jake shook free of him. "Settle down. We did it for your own good." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to him.

Chris tore it from his grasp. "Mary Anna Donlen. She's coming on the stage and should be here in a few days." He glared at Jake. "I don't remember getting married."

"Yesterday. You had a little too much to drink and stood up to get a proxy bride down at the stage depot. A preacher did the honors, and you're legally married to Mary Anna Donlen. Or I guess she's Mary Anna Starke now."

Chris shook his head. "No, no, this isn't right. You're playing a trick on me."

"If you don't believe me, ask Sheila. She was the woman who stood in Mary Anna's place for you."

With eyes narrowed, Chris stared at his friend. "I should have guessed. You two have been trying to trick me ever since I scared you both that night with the rattlesnake rattle." He grinned. "That was a good prank, Jake. You had me going for a minute."

Jake pointed at the paper. "No prank. She's going to be here by the weekend. Steve Boyd down at the livery has a wife coming too. He's excited."

Could Jake be telling the truth? Chris glanced around the two-bit room and then back at Jake. "Do you see any place I can put a wife?"

"We got enough money to start that little ranch we've been talking about. I figure we can break horses and sell them to the army. They always need horses. It would beat chasing longhorn steers around Texas to bring up north."

"And where are we going to live? It's December, and winter will be here before we know it. Remember how cold it gets out on the prairie?"

"We'll build a house first and then a barn. Or we might find a ranch that's abandoned."

Chris sat down heavily on the rickety chair. Jake could talk a tornado into a gentle breeze. He'd convinced Chris to do more things than he could imagine. "How much do we have?"

Jake patted his shirt pocket proudly. "We've got a thousand in the bank. Plenty for a start."

Chris stared at him. "How did we get that much in the bank?"

"I made sure to collect a portion from each of us and put it in the bank. It adds up. Otherwise, we'd have spent it all and had nothing to show for it. That's what happens to most of the cowboys after a drive." Jake handed him the bank book.

"What if I don't like this lady? I do hope you got me a Yankee woman."

"I didn't ask. I figure a good woman is a good woman." Jake slapped him on the shoulder. "You said you wanted to settle down."

"I did not. If I did, I didn't mean it." Chris ran a hand over his chin and felt the dry stubble. "I better shave."

"Get a haircut too. Maybe some clean clothes. You don't want her to run once she sees you."

Chris went to the mirror and looked at himself. Sighing, he shook his head. "Before the war, she could have had a gentleman. Now, she's going to get a scruffy drifter."

"We're not drifters if we settle down. I'll ask around for a ranch for sale." Jake looked excited.

Chris stopped Jake at the door. "I suppose you'll be marrying Sheila."

"No. I hadn't planned on it."

Chris frowned. "She wants to marry you. My wife will be lonely out there on the plains. Having a friend would make it easier for her. Besides, I know this was your idea. I expect you to ask Sheila to marry you."

Jake backed away and held his hands up. "No, I'm not the marrying kind."

"Neither am I. I'm counting on you to do the right thing, Jake."

With that half grin Jake always gave him when he didn't want to do something, his partner mumbled. "Sure. Soon, I'll ask her." He bolted out the door before Chris could ask him again.

The next few days went by in a jumbled mess. Jake found him a ranch to look at, but the stage was coming in today. Chris still needed the haircut and shave, not to mention the new clothes. He'd put it off in case Jake was really playing a joke on him. By the serious way his friend talked about how to take care of a wife, Chris knew he was in for it. Like it or not, he was married.

Chris wondered where the woman was coming from. She better be from north of the Mason-Dixon line. Jake should know Chris hated the Rebs and anything Southern.

He thought about Drake and his gang. Chris knew he could make fast money with them. He stared out the window. If he didn't know better, he'd think Jake arranged that marriage so he wouldn't join Drake's gang. One job with Drake could set him up to buy a good ranch.

Chris glanced at the window and figured he better hurry to the barber to get cleaned up. He counted the money in his pocket and decided he'd buy a new shirt and trousers rather than sit in the saloon and try to win at the gambling tables.

Two hours later, Chris had cleaned up and was walking toward the stage depot. A wife. Good grief, this is sure not how he thought his life would go. He hoped the woman wasn't a saloon gal. Chris still had some standards left. Not that she would be winning any prize. If only he'd met her before the war.

He saw a line at the stage depot and wondered how many men were picking up a wife today. Chris scratched the back of his neck, not happy with the haircut that had him itching. He hoped this woman wouldn't expect him to dress in new clothes and shave every day.

A few men shoved one another to get closest to where the passengers would disembark. Chris didn't care. He'd hang back and wait for his turn. That way, he could make a quick getaway if she was too scary looking.

He glanced across the street at the Drop Dead Saloon and saw Drake leaving. He was arguing with one of his gang members. Chris heard Drake yell, telling the man to get out of town and make himself scarce. With a cautious look, Drake looked around, and his gaze settled on Chris.

Chris nodded and put a finger to his hat. He hoped Drake would understand he meant he'd keep quiet about anything he heard.

Drake glared at the man he'd yelled at, but he smiled at Chris and returned the nod. Still, Chris wouldn't mind taking his frustrations out on a Yankee-owned bank. If he got enough for the job, then he and Jake could have their own ranches.

Cheers went up when the stagecoach turned the corner and raced down the street to the depot.

Chris stared at the charging horses. Strangely, he wasn't a bit nervous. Curious, yes. Did he really want to settle down? It wouldn't be a bad thing. Perfect timing for the coming frosty nights. He was getting to the age that he should have kids. Time was slipping away, and he didn't want to be too old for his children.

He looked around the dusty streets of Abilene and wondered what kind of life he could give a family in this town. Gunshots broke the peace most nights, especially on the weekends. There was a school but finding a teacher had proven difficult for the town.

The sheriff had his hands full, just keeping peace with the three established saloons. With the success of the cattle drive, more saloons were opening up. Soon, more trains would come to the town, bringing more people and more trouble.

Chris stepped back away from the crowd and stared at the stage depot. Just who was Mary Anna Donlen, and would she be someone he wanted to live the rest of his life with?