I've about run the gamut of published stories to tempt you with, so today, I'm sharing the beginning of a new WIP, Desperation's Bride. I've always been fascinated about women with the strength and determination to become mail-order brides, so I decided to write my own. I hope you'll encourage me to complete it:
So...the story starts:
Arizona 1862
Clare Sutton winced as she rolled onto her sore
shoulder. Her pillowcase, damp with
tears, cooled her heated cheek from the overly warm room in the run-down shack
she and her mother shared with her stepfather, Linus Crawford. His fondness for moonshine meant he turned meaner the more he drank. Tonight had been just more reason for Clare
to leave. Linus' drinking and subsequent beatings
had become far too frequent.
After losing Pa and Clare’s baby brother to Typhoid, Ma married the first man to come along who was willing to take on another man’s child. When sober, Linus was quiet and kind, but as a drunk, his resentment against Clare was loud and clear. Without her, Ma’s life might be more tolerable. He never vented his anger toward her.
After losing Pa and Clare’s baby brother to Typhoid, Ma married the first man to come along who was willing to take on another man’s child. When sober, Linus was quiet and kind, but as a drunk, his resentment against Clare was loud and clear. Without her, Ma’s life might be more tolerable. He never vented his anger toward her.
Nerves drove Clare to toss and turn, but the aching of her
welted upper body kept her frozen in place.
Was becoming a mail order bride a good idea? Might the man she married be the same as
Linus? She reckoned taking a draw from
the deck of life was better than the card she was dealt when her Ma remarried
Doing an errand in town for Ma two weeks ago had provided an opportunity to mail a letter to Mr. Jason Pollett, a name and post office box
Clare had obtained through the local minister. Although hearing sermons didn’t
happen as frequently as when Pa hitched up the buggy every Sunday, Clare had
spied an ad on the mercantile wall and hot-footed it over to the church.
“Of course, I understand why you can’t come every week,”
Pastor Joe had said. “Life changes in
ways we never expect and I’ll be more than happy to help one of my favorite
parishioners keep a secret. I’ve read
Jason Pollett’s letter and he seems like a fine fellow, and California isn't that far away.”
She'd clucked her tongue against the back of her teeth. Linus Crawford had seemed like a good catch,
too, but look at how that had turned out. She'd swallowed her doubts and accepted quill and paper from the good reverend and written a letter of introduction to Mr. Pollett.
Now she waited. She'd said nothing to anyone, and only the pastor knew. Her nerves tensed at the thought of meeting a stranger for the purpose of becoming his wife. Was she crazy?
The urge to fidget grew, but soreness kept her still. Moonlight filtered through the window enabling her to stare at the low ceiling beams while hoping the reverend was a good judge of character. He'd urged her to hurry and write because men in search of brides didn't wait long. Hopefully Jason Pollett was a patient man.
The urge to fidget grew, but soreness kept her still. Moonlight filtered through the window enabling her to stare at the low ceiling beams while hoping the reverend was a good judge of character. He'd urged her to hurry and write because men in search of brides didn't wait long. Hopefully Jason Pollett was a patient man.
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I'd love to know what you think of my first draft. Afterward, please hop over to my friends and check out their offerings:
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
Oh...you can find my books on Amazon...my author's page.
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
Oh...you can find my books on Amazon...my author's page.
Poor Clare--this is a dog of a life--and we know you'll make a loving sweetheart to rescue her--! Write on, Ginger!
ReplyDeleteWell, you certainly got my interest, Ginger. No way can her new husband turn out to be a brute--or we will never forgive you. He has to be handsome, generous and kind. I can't imagine how awful it must have been for those mail order brides, especially the ones who ended up with horrible old men.
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