Sixteen Brides by Stephanie Grace Whitson Read Free Book Online Page A

entertain the idea to his heart’s content.

CHAPTER
FOUR
    Brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever things are just . . . think on these things.
    PHILIPPIANS 4:8
    L inney was not going to give up. She set her bedroll down just inside the mercantile’s back storeroom door and continued the plea. “I’m fourteen, Pa. And I know you don’t like being around a lot of people, but it’s just one dance and Martha says you’re the best dancer in the county and . . . well . . . a girl needs to know how to dance and who should teach her if not her very own pa?”
    When Matthew glanced to where Martha Haywood sat perched on a stool behind the mercantile counter, Martha took the pencil from behind her ear and wrote something in the ledger. She didn’t even look up as she said, “She makes a good point, Matthew. It’s not like that train car of ladies is staying here. They’ll be on their way to Cayote before nightfall. Friday will be mostly folks you already know. Shoot, half the boys from around here will be over at Cayote anyway, chasing after those women. What better way to celebrate spring than a dance among old friends with your very own daughter?”
    “Just one dance,” Linney said. “It can be the last dance of the whole night if you want. And then you can hightail it back to your cave and hibernate again.”
    He should be ashamed of himself—and was, for many reasons— but making the girl beg like this was just flat-out wrong. From the expression on Martha Haywood’s face, it appeared she thought the same. “All right,” Matthew said. “I can’t promise I’ll stay the whole evening, but—” Whatever else he was going to say was smothered by Linney’s squeal of delight and her arms around his neck. Before he knew it he’d promised not only to dance with her but to take her to supper at the dining hall beforehand, too. When Martha looked his way, Matthew steeled himself against the teasing he expected, but she said nothing. She just smiled and nodded approval. Good for you.
    A few minutes later when the train whistle sounded from the east, Matthew was in the haymow over at the livery, forking fresh hay down into a couple of vacant stalls. He worked there occasionally in exchange for Otto Ermisch not charging Matthew to board his pinto mare when he visited town. Seconds after the train whistle sounded in the distance, Matthew heard a door slam and a chorus of shouts. Making his way to the edge of the haymow, he watched as men spilled out of the saloon and the dining hall, the mercantile and the implement store, all of them hurrying along as they straightened collars, brushed dust off their pants, smoothed beards, and spat wads of tobacco out into the grass. Obviously word had spread that the Ladies Desperation Society was on that train. Tossing a final forkful of hay into the stall below, Matthew walked back to the wide opening above the livery’s double-wide doors. This, he had to see.

    Mr. Drake hadn’t shown his face in the ladies’ emigration car since redefining the prairie fire as renewal. Now, as the train began to slow for the long stop at Plum Grove, he stuck his head in the door and directed them to “proceed to the Immigrant House,” where they would have opportunity to “freshen up” before the supper that they would enjoy during the unloading of a couple of freight cars and the taking on of water and fuel. “I’ll join you in the Plum Grove Dining Hall soon to discuss our arrival in Cayote later this evening. Until then, I trust you’ll all enjoy taking the air here in Plum Grove.” With that, he was gone.
    Feeling rumpled and out of sorts, Ella stood up and stretched. When the train lurched unexpectedly, she nearly fell.
    “Land sakes,” Mrs. Morris exclaimed, “what are they doing now?!”
    Ella straightened her bonnet as she said, “Mama, I’m going to make sure they don’t unload our chickens by mistake. I should have been keeping