Beyond the Heart Read online

  Married life is not exactly what I expected it to be. However, Chet is educating me on what he requires of a wife. I am still learning, but Chet promises me that once I am with child, I will see the joys of motherhood. He wants many sons. He says that children define a man’s wealth, because when they grow up, they can help build the family business and family wealth. Since his business is cattle, if he had sons it would be easier for them to contribute to the family business.

  The fewer workers Chet has to hire, the more money we can keep for ourselves when he takes the cattle to market. We will be able to handle more cattle, once we have grown sons to help out. He seems to expect only boys, but I wish to have at least one girl.

  I hope for signs that I am with child, so Chet will think of me as an asset to his life. If I were barren, he would not be pleased. I am anxious to discover that I am capable of having children, so it will not concern him so much. I worry because we have been married for several months now, and there is no sign that I carry a child. It is not from lack of trying, though.

  Pray for me, Callie, that I will have sons to make Chet happy. It worries him when so much time has gone by without any signs of me conceiving. Until I can relieve his worries, I will have to keep a brave face. He almost demands me to bring forth a son, which makes me feel inadequate when God does not see fit to grant me that ability.

  I hope your life is happy. When you finally pick a husband, I pray he treats you lovingly and considerate, and that you can reward him with children.

  I hope sometime, you will be able to come and visit me, but I know I live so far away it would be next to impossible for you to get here.

  Love, your sister, Rolletta.

  Callie folded the letter back up, thinking that her sister had not been barren, but she had only given Chet one son, the rest being girls. Having a child every other year, in order to try to produce those sons, seemed excessive to Callie. At least, Rolletta had not been barren, which was her greatest fear, but since Chet seemed to demand sons, she wondered how Chet had reacted, at each new birth of a girl. Rolletta’s last child ended up being a girl, as well, which caused her sister to lose her life. Poor, Rolletta, Callie thought. She couldn’t bring forth the boys Chet demanded of her, and she died trying to fulfill his desire to have more sons. How cruel could God be, Callie wondered?

  Now she was going to be forced to raise her sister’s children, whether she wanted to or not, and according to her mother, Chet would expect her to bear him, even more, children. Possibly demanding she also gave him all sons. She was thinking she did not want to risk dying in childbirth, just to satisfy Chet’s need to have boys. It was most likely the constant bearing of children, had weakened Rolletta’s health, and caused her to die, Callie accused Chet angrily. Callie determined firmly, that she would never put herself in that position.

  There was a tap at the door, and Callie knew it was Molly with a tray of food. When Molly opened the door and brought in the tray, Callie turned her head away and insisted she was not hungry. Molly left the tray anyway and left the room.

  Callie could hear the key turning in the lock and cursed her mother and father under her breath. In the morning, she would have to board the train, and even if she chose to get off the train along the way, she had no money and no place to go. She did not want to end up being a woman of the night, which was always the threat to women who had no man to look after them. She was going to have to steel herself and do as her parents and Chet expected of her. She knew she was not going to like it, though.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It was still raining the next morning, when Callie’s father brought her downstairs, under her mother’s watchful eye, and guided her out to the coach that would take her to the train station. She saw her luggage tied on the back, covered by the leather flap, which was already soaked by the downpour. The rain spotted Callie’s dark-green dress before she entered the coach. Her father had held an umbrella, but it hadn’t kept the wind from blowing droplets about. She sat stoically staring straight ahead of her, as her father sat next to her.

  “You will get used to the idea eventually,” her father promised her, as he glanced over at her. “I honestly tried to talk your mother out of it, but she is resolute that you should get out on your own, and Rolletta’s children are motherless now. You should take pity on them, if nothing else,” he persuaded.

  “I do feel sorry for Rolletta’s poor little children who lost their mother, but that is not enough reason for me to be marrying their father,” she insisted.

  “It is the only way, Callie. You can’t live alone with a man, in the middle of the Texas plains, without marrying him. He needs a wife, and you need a husband.”

  “I don’t need a husband. I was perfectly happy without a husband.”

  “That is only because you had me and your mother supporting you. It is a husband who is supposed to support a woman. It is your duty to marry to allow your husband to be your support and caretaker. If you keep waiting, you will be beyond childbearing years, and no man would have you. Therefore, it is to your best advantage that you accept Chet’s offer to marry you.”

  “Apparently, he already has a good score of children, so there should be no reason for me to add to his store,” she pouted.

  “A man has needs that only a wife can fulfill, Callie, girl. I know you do not understand now, but having children is only part of the reward a man receives from marriage. It is all about give and take, so remember that, once you are married. Bringing forth children is the consequence of a marriage agreement when you fulfill your part of it. It becomes your duty, considering the man is willing to support you in exchange for your willingness to be there for him.”

  “It is not sounding very fulfilling for me,” she muttered.

  “It could be. I hope it is. You will discover, in time, if it is fulfilling or not,” he murmured.

  He gave her a concerned glance but did not feel it proper for him to go into any detailed explanations, concerning the marriage bed.

  The coach had reached the train station, and the baggage men were unloading Callie’s trunks. Her father escorted her to the train, and helped her through the door. Then he kissed her on the cheek.

  “Write us and let us know how you fare,” he told her.

  “The only way you will learn how I fare is if Chet writes you. You are forcing me to marry someone I do not wish to marry. Why should I write you to let you know anything about my life from this point on?”

  “I hope you change your mind,” he told her, and then sadly turned away.

  Callie’s father had not liked the idea of putting Callie in this position, but his wife had convinced him it would be the best for both Callie and Chet. He hoped she would be proven to be right, so he would not regret his willingness to go along with her wishes.

  Callie sat listlessly on the train looking out the window, as the rain continued to fall around it. Her thoughts kept going over her sister’s letter. She wasn’t sure Rolletta had been happy with her marriage. It was all about trying to please Chet, she thought, not about Rolletta’s own happiness. Rolletta had sounded disappointed in the ranch, and Callie wondered if Chet had made it into the kind of place that would rival Rolletta’s parent’s home, the way he had promised. She was not looking forward to discovering the answer, she thought.

  Her father had sent Chet her dowry, just as he had given Chet Rolletta’s dowry when she had married Chet. So even that money was not at her disposal since, once she married, everything she owned would revert to her husband. Now she was likely to inherit Rolletta’s part of their inheritance when her parents died. Of course, Chet would receive that future wealth as well, she thought, begrudgingly.

  However, her mother was so sure Chet was a Cattle-baron perhaps he must not be marrying her for her money, she decided. Even so, like her father had informed her, it seemed there was more to a man’s need for a wife than just children and inheritance. She was not looking forward to discovering those needs.

 
The train pulled away from the station, and the whistle pierced Callie’s heart, as it wailed out, in a way that Callie couldn’t wail out. Now, whether she felt brave or not, she had no other choice. She did not feel courageous. She did not feel anything but dread.

  The train ride lasted three days filled with incessant rocking and clacking over the tracks. Callie kept to herself, reading a collection of newspapers she brought with her, sleeping fitfully, and eating on occasion. As she read the newspapers, she found among other reports, news of Indian uprisings. It appeared that the Indians, especially the Comanche and Kiowa, were raiding ranches, wagon trains, and many other people in the Texas, Kansas area. This troubled Callie. She was not looking forward to braving the possibilities of Indian raids going on in every direction. She hoped the stories were an exaggeration. Sensational news in the papers was always a draw to get more issues sold, she tried to reason.

  When the train came to the end of the line, Callie was grateful to finally be able to step down from the beast. She watched as the baggage men brought her trunks, which she requested to be sent to the stage station, not far away.

  Jefferson City was the capital of Missouri. Callie had heard, the military headquarters existed there, during the war. She had been told that Missouri stood divided during the Civil War. However, she was on the north side of Missouri, where the union had gathered, while farther south, called ‘Little Dixie’, the people had supported the southern states. Callie was happy it was all behind them now.

  There, on the outskirts of Jefferson City, the Germans had settled. They had brought with them grapevines and planted vineyards on either side of the Missouri river, which boarded the town on one side. She had heard that a huge prison stood in Jefferson City, built many years earlier. They called it the Missouri Penitentiary where they housed hardened criminals.

  In the early days of Missouri, the town was called Lahmans Landing, but later, when it became the capital in 1826, they changed it to Jefferson City, to honor Thomas Jefferson. The center of the city was built on a mound, with the Capital building rising above the rest.

  Callie would travel on across Missouri to the west, and then eventually cross the Missouri river, which wound around to the north and came back down creating the border of Missouri and Kansas. From there, she would change stages and go on into Kansas on the Butterfield line, traveling until she reached Dodge city. She knew the trip would take another three days by stage. She would be traveling both day and night with only three stops a day, to change horses and eat at the stations along the way.

  Callie was thankful for the first-class fare, of seven dollars, Chet had paid, because that meant she could ride the whole way in the coach. Second-class ticket holders would have to get out and walk when crossing over rough or difficult terrain of the trek. Third-class ticket holders would not only have to walk at times, but they would also have to help push the stagecoach when needed.

  Callie made her way to the stage station, produced her ticket, and watched the men load her two trunks onto the top of the stagecoach. Then she stepped up inside, to join two other passengers sitting there. They were both scruffy looking men, so Callie turned her head aside and gazed out the window. Eventually, more passengers boarded until the Stagecoach was filled to capacity, with nine people. Any other passengers would have to ride on top. She found herself squeezed between questionable men and dreary women, who were going in her direction. She was now being pushed up against the window she sat next to. There was no back to the leather seat she sat on, and her only means of balance was holding onto a leather strap that hung from the roof for that purpose.

  Finally, the stagecoach gave a lurch, as the driver urged the horses to take up the journey across the west side of Missouri and on to Kansas. The coach compartment began to swing gently from side to side, since leather straps suspended it, rather than being mounted on springs. Callie watched, as Jefferson City started to dwindle from sight and other Missouri landscape and towns met her view.

  The weather was muggy, and the coach filled with the aroma of body odor, strong perfume, and traces of hard liquor emanating from one of the men aboard. Various faces from all walks of life surrounded her as they glanced at her expensive clothes and fancy bonnet. Few actually looked at her directly. She was happy to turn her head towards the window and raise the leather curtain, to let more air come in to whisk away the smells that were starting to nauseate her.

  By the time the stage reached the river, many of the passengers had already disembarked. Callie was happy to step down from the local Stagecoach, where she was to board a ferry, to cross the river. Then she would board the overland Butterfield Stagecoach line.

  She stood with other passengers, and people using the ferry. The wind whipped at her green silk skirts and ruffled the strands of her blond hair, inherited from her Dutch ancestry, which cascaded down her back from beneath her bonnet. When she reached the other side of the river, someone directed her to another stage station.

  Once again, Callie seated herself inside the coach, shared by only five other passengers, who were going in her direction. It was less crowded, but just as uncomfortable, since sitting with no back rest was tiresome, and trying to sleep was difficult. The space between the coach benches facing each other, forced her to keep her knees bent. The only time Callie could stretch her legs, was when the coach stopped to water the horses, change the team, and allow the passengers to buy food if they did not have their own food with them. The price of food was a dollar a meal, which ended up costing more than the price of the ticket to take the stage when the journey ended.

  When the stage finally pulled into Dodge, Callie was exhausted, out of sorts, feeling soiled, beginning to smell her own body odor, and every bone in her body seemed to ache. She was helped down by one of the men on the stage, who tipped his hat politely at her, even though he looked like someone fresh off a cattle drive. She nodded in thanks and watched her trunks taken down from the stage.

  Then the stage was rumbling on to its next destination, as Callie watched it disappear down the dusty road, while she sat nervously, upon one of her trunks waiting for Chet. She thought he would be at the stage to meet her, as soon as she arrived. Only the stage was not on time since there had been many points along the way when the progress was slowed down by difficult terrain.

  Callie had heard about the lawlessness of the town, which made her feel anxious to be sitting there all on her own, looking like a flower that was plucked from some foreign land and placed there to wilt in the hot Kansas sun. People walked along the boardwalk, glancing her way, but not seeming interested that she was alone and unescorted.

  Callie pulled her hanky from her wrist purse and patted the perspiration from her forehead. Even her bonnet did not make her face feel any cooler, and dark stains had already formed under her arms long ago, from the extensive, hot journey. She longed for a cool, refreshing bath. She wondered if the hotel Chet claimed they would stay at the night, before heading on to his ranch, would have bathing facilities.

  “You look a lot like your sister,” she heard a voice say, and Callie jerked her head up, which had been bent, studying the toe of her high-top-button boots.

  Her eyes lit upon the face of Chet, looking older, but just as disturbing as she recalled him to be, nine years earlier. His burning eyes were as unnerving as she remembered them to be. He studied her for a few moments before he said anything more.

  “Might as well get to it,” he mumbled, motioning to a station hand to help him put Callie’s two trunks on his wagon, parked close by.

  Callie followed them to the wagon, as they loaded her trunks into the back, but Chet shook his head when she started to climb up to the bench.

  “Need to go to the church first,” he informed her. “It’s across the street. I can’t take you to the hotel until we are lawfully married.”

  “I just got off the stage. I need to freshen up,” she complained.

  “No need to bother with that. You can freshen up when we g
et to the hotel,” he insisted.

  He stepped forward, and took hold of her upper arm, as he directed her across the street to a whitewashed wooden church, with a cross at the top of the steeple.

  “The preacher’s waiting. He’s a might impatient since we expected you earlier, so no use wasting time.”

  He barely looked at her, as he spoke. Callie was feeling even more apprehensive, as he ushered her into the church, which was empty, except for the preacher, and one other person. She assumed it was his wife there to witness the marriage.

  A moment later, they were standing before the preacher. He was saying words that Callie barely listened to, as her frantic mind was trying to think of a way to back out of this agreement. Apparently, Chet was not going to give her time to do that, though.

  “It’s your turn to say ‘I do’,” he prodded.

  She mumbled the words, knowing she was sealing her fate by doing so.

  “You are now my wife,” Chet stated, looking seriously down at her, and then he was leading her from the church and back to his wagon. “The hotel is just up the street,” he informed her. “We’ll stay there, and then get an early start in the morning. It will take a day or two to get there.”

  He clicked his tongue and urged his horses forward. He glanced at Callie sitting beside him.

  “You aren’t as young as your sister was when I married her, but I guess you will do,” he mentioned. “Did you have a fair trip?”

  “It was tiring,” was all she said.

  “Most long journeys tend to be,” he said indifferently.

  Chet pulled the wagon into the livery stable, next to the hotel, and they dismounted, walking over to the hotel, Chet possessively holding onto Callie’s arm.