Page 1 of The Marshal's Bride
Chapter One
June 1876, Grand Platte, Nebraska
“Quack!”
Justine McGuthry clung to Hope’s hand as she looked around the platform. People were milling around, waiting for either a train or a stagecoach to take them to their destinations.
Travel was so very different from when her family arrived in Nebraska several years before. Stagecoaches and trains had replaced wagon trains and walking. She couldn’t even imagine what the future would bring.
Though she’d heard rumors, they extended the train tracks all the way to California! One day, perhaps she and Hope would take a train ride to explore the country.
Listen to her. That seemed lavish, even to her own ears, but it would be up to God.
Justine and Hope had been traveling on the stagecoach from Lincoln for two days and they were ready to be done. It was the most economical of travel choices, although not the most comfortable. It reminded Justine of a wooden box on wheels, the way it jostled them around.
She was sure she would have bruises on her arm from bumping up against the interior walls. The only saving grace was the coach had been mostly empty, so Hope could sit on the bench and not on her lap for the entire journey.
After spending three hours in Grand Platte, they had just enough time for a cup of coffee, a hot meal, and to return to the platform before their coach left for the last part of their trip. At least they didn’t have to unload their luggage for the quick break.
Eventually everyone ended up in Grand Platte, as it seemed to be the drop-off point to the southwest. The train ended here, and riders had to catch a stage over the river and into Colorado, before picking up another train somewhere near Denver. Stages also traveled along the river, ferrying passengers between the small towns dotted on the map.
“Quack! Quack!”
Justine looked down as her daughter tried unsuccessfully to tempt a nearby duck to bring her babies closer to the little girl for inspection. They should board soon, and then it would be another six hours of being cramped in the small space before they arrived at Flat River.
Thankfully, Hope was an amiable child, and the trip had been painless so far. She had her dolly, and a chain of felt blocks to keep herself entertained. If Justine was lucky, the little girl would sleep the rest of the way.
Spotting a man wearing blue pants with a matching vest and small hat walking down on the platform, she raised her hand and gave a little wave.
“Excuse me! Do you know what time the stage to Flat River will pull out?” Justine called. The man shoved two fingers into his vest and pulled out a pocket watch, flipping the front open as he approached. He snapped it shut before taking several steps forward so that she could hear him.
“The stage should pull around in about ten minutes, Ma’am.” He shoved the watch back in his vest pocket. “We had to change out the horses.”
“Are you certain?” She shook her head. “Of course, you are certain. We’ll avail ourselves of the privy then and continue to wait. Is here the best spot?”
“If you stand closer to the station, you should be able to avoid the dust. The driver will call out an all aboard as the train conductors do.”
“Thank you for your help. Come along, Hope.” She turned and leaned down to scoop up her daughter before deciding the walk would be best.
“Quack!”
“You are not a duck, darling.” Glancing around the platform, sadness gripped her. Losing Jacob had not been easy for either of them. If she were honest, at least with herself and God, she would acknowledge the anger that lurked deep inside as well.
“Quack!”
This time Justine did not correct the little girl. It amused her that this was the word her toddler was now processing. It was Hope’s second word, to be exact, and it was a duck noise. Justine surmised that this was an improvement from the typical quiet that she was accustomed to, or the daily tears that Hope had shed since her husband’s passing.
Her mother-in-law, however, forbade Justine from exhibiting her feelings. Marjorie McGuthry snapped waspishly that if Justine had been in the field with Jacob, perhaps he would not have died when the stallion threw him.
It wouldn’t have mattered at all if she were there. The horse was going to do what it was going to do regardless of Justine’s presence.
So, she had been inside with Hope, who had caught the spring cold that swept the town, and Jacob had specifically told her to stay away from the stud pasture when the horrible accident stole him away.
After three months of daily flagellation from her mother-in-law, she’d written to her cousin, who was the Reverend, in Flat River. There was nothing left for her in Lincoln and a fresh start was just what she and Hope needed.
Reverend Billings was her last living family member on her mother’s side. As a child, Justine remembered him visiting when he traveled through the Nebraska Territory. He had a daughter approximately the same age as Justine, but they didn’t get to spend much time together growing up.
She prayed he would help her, if not at least offer her godly counsel. It was unreasonable to stay angry at God for the rest of her life.
