Cody's Montana Sweetheart: A New Montana Brides Ebook (The New Montana Brides) (2 page)

chapter Three

Letter from Montana

Cody scanned to the bottom, more of a note than a letter, curious to see who had written to him. It was signed Annabel Sims.
She’s probably writing for Bethany,
he thought.

It is a brief note. There was no salutation. It was dated six months earlier, and merely said:

Cody, I hope this reaches you. Would it be possible for you to come to Helena? I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with you. It is urgent. Should you decide to make the trip, ask for directions to my place at the general store and post office.
It was signed Annabel Simms.

Six months old, well, that kills the urgency,
he thought.
I’ll write her a letter.

Dear Annabel,

After a lot of years in the Army, I decided to return to civilian life. Today was my first day back in Dayton and my grandmother gave me the letter you wrote six months back. Since so much time has passed, I guess the urgency has probably passed also.

I asked about your family, but my grandmother only knew one of the Simms girls had left town. She knew nothing of your parents.

I was hoping to be able to see Bethany. Does she live close to you?

Even though it has probably passed, I am curious about the nature of the urgency. I would appreciate any information you care to provide.

Sincerely,

Cody

He mailed the letter, and decided to ride out to the Simms place, and see if he could learn their whereabouts. When he reached what he had known as the Simms place, the family living there told him they had bought the property right after the war ended, and had no idea where the previous owners had gone.

At the bank, he spoke to the owner, “How did the bank come to take over the Thompson place?”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Thompson; your father borrowed money against the farm, and didn’t make payments. Frankly, I think he drank all of the money instead of working the farm. We had no choice but to take it,” the banker said.

“Do you know where they went?” he asked.

“I can’t say as I do,” the banker said. “They just up and left when we posted the notice.”

Two weeks later…

Cody had been going to the post office daily, looking for a letter. Today, there was one.

“Dear Cody,

I was surprised to receive your letter. When I didn’t hear from you for such a long time, I presumed you had been killed in the war.

I must apologize for not being more explicit in my letter, but I am not comfortable in addressing the urgent matter by letter. I have no confidence in the security of the mail. I can only say, the matter remains urgent, and I need your help. We don’t have railroad service to Helena yet, and the last part of the trip would be by stage coach. It will still be easier for you than the path we took when we moved.

I ask one thing. If you don’t intend to come, do me the favor of replying as soon as possible. I have no other recourse in this matter.

Sincerely,

Annabel

“Granny, I am completely puzzled by this,” he said. He showed her the two letters. “These are from Annabel Simms. Do you mind if I read them to you?”

“No, son, go ahead,” she said.

He read the letters aloud, then asked, “What do you think?”

“Well,” she said, “it sounds serious enough. I reckon as how the only way you’re going to find out what it is she’s after would be to go out there.”

“Cody, you know I love you. You’re just about the only family I have left except for that good for nothing Sue Ellen and her worthless son. There ain’t nothing for you here in Dayton. You weren’t cut out to be a farmer, and the only other work would be a teacher. I don’t see you as the type to be cooped up in a schoolhouse all day with a bunch of snot nosed kids.

“I say go to this Montana place and see what this is all about. Things would be better there for you than here. You were raised right, and was a fine boy until that girl led you off the way,” she said.

“Granny,” he said softly, “She didn’t lead me. I went willingly. We just felt differently about my duty to the country. She begged me not to go to the war. I think you’re right about going out there. I don’t think I could live here. I would have tried, if the farm was still here, but I don’t even know if it would have worked. Thank you for your blessing. I think I will leave right after I mail off an answer to Annabel.”

Dear Annabel,

Your second letter was received today. I have determined I will make the trip to Helena, and plan to leave Dayton tomorrow on the first train. I am told it will take four or five days to make the trip as far as Ogden, Utah and then five days to Helena by stage coach, depending on connections in Chicago and Saint Louis. I hope to see you in about ten days.

Until then,

Sincerely,

Cody.

Train rides were not a new thing for Cody. He had made several troop movements by train during his Army stint. He had also walked a lot, and spent many more hours on horseback. Train rides were easier and cleaner. He did not buy Pullman tickets. Soldiers are accustomed to sleeping wherever they have the opportunity, and he slept the next four nights in his seat on the train. He spent a goodly amount of time on the platform between his car and the next, watching Middle America pass by. He spent most of a day in Saint Louis, before changing to the train that would take him the rest of the way.

chapter Three

Helena At Last

It was mid-afternoon when the stagecoach pulled to a stop in front of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. The cloud of dust stirred up by the hooves of the horses and the wheels of the coach did not last very long, dissipated by the brisk wind blowing out of the mountains in the northwest.

Cody paused to look around. The sky could only be described as big. Big, blue, and crystal clear. The stagecoach driver pulled the bags belonging to the four passengers in his coach from the canvas boot on the rear of the stage. He threw them to the board sidewalk in front of the hotel. There were a few onlookers, curious to catch the first glimpse of these four men, newcomers to their town.

Cody picked up his bag and went inside the hotel and made his way to the desk. The hotel clerk, clad in dark pants, a long sleeved plaid shirt, looked up as he approached. “I need a room for the night, and maybe a few more,” Cody told the clerk.

“Yessir, I can accommodate you,” the clerk said. “Dust or hard?” he asked.

“I don’t understand,” Cody said.

“Will you be paying in dust or hard money?” the clerk asked.

It dawned on Cody then. The dust to which he referred, was gold dust. “Hard money,” he responded.

He took the key from the clerk and went to his room and found it overlooked the street. He pulled back the curtain and opened the window and looked down Last Chance Gulch, in front of the hotel.

He was stiff from the many hours spent in the shaking, rolling stage coach.
I think I’ll stretch my legs.
He walked back down the stairs and out onto the street named Last Chance Gulch.
There’s got to be a story behind this name.

He came to a storefront with bat-wing doors, reminiscent of saloons he had seen down in Texas. Cody was not a drinker, but he was a good poker player, having learned the game at the hands of experts while in the Army. He went to the bar and in response to the barkeep’s question, he said “Beer.” He flipped a coin to the barkeep, indicating he was to keep the change. “Is that an open game?” he asked the bartender.

“Yeah,” said the bartender, “but they don’t like tin-horns.”

“I’m not a tin-horn, just a travel weary old Cavalry man,” Cody said.

“Yeah? Where’d you serve?” asked the bartender.

“I was in the war with the 16
th
Ohio, and stayed in. I was pretty much everywhere; the last place was down in Texas.”

“They’ll probably let you sit in,” he said. “If you’re interested, there’s a high stakes game in back once in a while.”

“High stakes aren’t for me,” Cody said. “I don’t think I could make the ante. Thanks for the information.”

He wandered over to the table and watched for a few minutes. One of the players stood, and said, “That’s it for me for today.” He turned to Cody and said, “Mister, if you’re thinking of sitting here, you might think again. It’s a bad luck seat. I ain’t seen a decent hand all day.”

Cody laughed and said, “Maybe the luck is due to change. He looked to the remaining players and said, “Fellows, mind if I sit?”

“No, go ahead,” said the man with the biggest stack in front of him. “I can use some fresh money.

“Thank you.” Cody said. “I only have money for a few hands if this chair’s bad luck holds.”

Laughter greeted his statement, and the dealer said, “Five card stud, mister, two in the hole. The ante is two dollars.”

“Sounds good,” Cody said, “I’m Cody Thompson. I just came in on the stage.”

He played cautiously the first few hands, winning one pot, before the cards turned his direction. Two hours later, the big stack had moved over in front of him.

“Fellows, I like to stop while I’m ahead. I’m going to play two more hands,” Cody said. He managed to lose the second hand, folding even though he held the winning hand. He stood, and said, “Thanks, I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, but I might sit in another time, if you don’t mind.”

He cashed in and walked toward the door. “A word with you, sir, if you please,” said the well-dressed man at a corner table.

Cody walked over, and the man stood and extended his hand. “I’m Harry Simpson, the proprietor of this establishment.”

Cody shook hands. “You play a mean hand of poker,” Harry said.

“Cody Thompson. I learned to play the hard way, at the hands of some experts in the Cavalry.”

“I was watching. You’re good. We have a little game on occasion in the back, where the stakes are more interesting,” Harry said.

“Thanks, Mr. Simpson, but I’m not really a gambler. My funds were getting kind of low from my trip, so I needed to build it back up. Meaning no disrespect, but they don’t really know the game.”

Harry laughed and said, “Yeah, I saw you fold with a winning hand there at the end. A nice gesture.”

“It helps to leave a little something on the table.

“Come back anytime,” said Harry.

“Thank you,” Cody said, and left the saloon and walked down Last Chance Gulch looking for the general store.

Inside the store, he spoke to the only person he saw that didn’t appear to be a customer. “I’m Cody Thompson. A friend of mine told me you would give me directions to her place. Her name is, or was Annabel Simms.”

“Silas Farmer.” He extended his hand and Cody shook it. “She is still a Simms. She wrote out the directions and left them here. I’ll get them. Are you familiar with the area at all?”

“No, I just got in on the stage earlier today,” Cody said.

“You just head out of town; when the Gulch forks, you want the left fork. You stay on that road until you come to another fork, then you want the left again. If you follow that, you’ll come to her cabin. She described it to me as a small log cabin. Her note has a few more details. I’ve never been out there, but it sounds simple.

“You going out there today?” Silas asked.

“Probably. I guess I can get a horse at the livery?” Cody asked.

“Sure, Mose will take care of you. She’s a nice lady,” Silas said, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I knew her back in Ohio, before the war. She asked me to come out. Said she needs my help,” Cody said. “Thanks for the information, Silas. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Silas said.

“Well, I’m much obliged,” Cody said as he turned and left the store.

chapter Five

Annabel

Cody left the hotel early, and had breakfast at a small café down the street. Afterwards, he walked over to the livery stable where he found the owner using a pitchfork to put out hay for the horses. “Are you Mose?” he asked.

“I am,” grunted the man, as he threw another fork load of hay into a stall. “What might I do for you?” he asked.

“Silas, over at the mercantile said I could get a horse from you.”

“That you can, mister. That you can,” said Mose.

“Name’s Cody Thompson. I need a good horse while I’m in town.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Cody. I’d offer you my hand, but it’s been in all kinds of stuff this morning. Come on, and I’ll let you take your pick.”

In the corral, Cody stood back, and with a practiced eye, looked at all of the horses. He picked out a horse with a shiny brown coat that looked high spirited. He had white stocking feet and a blaze on his forehead. “This one will do,” he said.

“You have a fine eye for horseflesh, Cody. How did you come by it, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Ten years in the Cavalry, Mose.”

“Ten years, hey? That’ll do it all right. This is Thunder. He’s dark and quick as lightning. He’ll carry you all day if you ask him to. Just be sure to give him some oats and plenty of water. I guess I don’t have to tell you that, though.”

They settled on a price. Cody used the tack provided by Mose, and saddled Thunder. He swung easily into the saddle. Thunder reared on his two back feet, but Cody sat tall.

“I guess you just passed the test. Thunder likes to check out his rider,” Mose said.

At an easy pace, Cody rode out of town in the direction given him by Silas. He came to the first fork an hour out of Helena. Another thirty minutes and he came to the second fork. He found the cabin easily, nestled against a grove of trees, with a creek close by. He figured he was maybe a mile from the river. He dismounted and went to the door. There was no answer to his knock, so he went around to the back.

He could see someone working with a hoe in the garden. From the size and shape, he could tell it was a woman. Not wanting to startle her, he called out, “Hellooo,” The hoe dropped and the figure bent to pick it up. When she stood, it wasn’t a hoe in her hands; it was a double barrel shotgun.

“Mister, you better state your business, or I’ll let loose with this thing and it won’t be pretty,” she said.

Cody was shocked. It wasn’t a man’s voice. And it wasn’t harsh. It was a soft, smooth, feminine voice.

“I’m Cody,” he said.

“Cody? You’re really here?” She took her hat off and shook her head. The long black hair fell down her back. The blue eyes and honey colored skin made her an extraordinarily attractive woman. She ran to him, and hugged him in a strong embrace.

“You’re Annabel?” he asked.

She smiled, showing beautiful white, straight teeth. “I am. Thank you for coming. Come into the house, and I’ll get you something cold to drink.”

He followed her inside the cabin. It was not what he expected. There was a kitchen area, and a living room area. The blue curtains covering the windows in the living area had a frilly white fringe across the bottom. The kitchen curtains were a soft yellow color. In the living room there was a large open hearth fireplace, a worn sofa and two chairs facing the fireplace.

“I was hoping to see Bethany,” he said.

A look of disappointment flashed across her now saddened face. “You won’t be seeing Bethany. Not ever again. Bethany’s dead, Cody. She’s been dead eight or nine years now.”

The shock on his face was clearly visible to Annabel. “I hate to break it to you this way, but it happened a long time ago.

“What did she die of? Diphtheria? Smallpox?” he asked.

“No,” she said, “it wasn’t anything like that. She left home and said she was going to California. She left with a gambler she met on a riverboat in Cincinnati. Going to California was her dream. We got a letter from the sheriff in San Francisco County. The gambler was shot after he was caught cheating. She apparently was killed by a stray bullet. The sheriff found our address in her things and wrote us.

“Not long after that, Pa put the farm up for sale, and we moved west, following the Oregon Trail. Ma died on the trail, somewhere in Iowa. Pa died a few years back. He had homesteaded this place, and I took it over. It’s a hard life, but nobody bothers me much. Once in a while a few Sioux braves wander in; that’s why the shotgun you saw, but mostly they leave me alone.”

“You said you needed my help. Running this place?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that,” she said.

Exasperated, Cody said, “What then?”

She looked down at the floor. “You’re not making this easy,” she said.

“Making what easy?” he asked. “Just tell me,”

“It’s your son,” she said, looking him in the eye defiantly.

“My son? I don’t understand,” he said.

“Bethany had your son,” she said.

Cody felt as if all of the air had gone out of him.
Bethany must have been pregnant when I left for the Army. Why didn’t she tell me? Maybe she didn’t know.
He sat there, disbelief on his face.

“Pa would have killed you if you had been there. Bethany was always his favorite and you spoiled her. You were the one who ruined his daughter,” Annabel said.

“Wait, I didn’t know. She never said anything. For that matter, how do you know it’s even my son? What kind of girl would go running off with a gambler like that? Maybe the boy is his son.”

“I’ve been gone for ten years or more, and out of the blue, I’m asked to come two thousand miles, and then find I’ve got a son I’ve never heard of? Somehow, that doesn’t sound right.”

“I might shoot you myself, for saying that,” she said. “I think you should go. I made a mistake asking you to come here. Just leave, and go on back to Ohio or wherever it is you’re going to live.”

“Wait,” Cody said.

“Just go. You’ve said enough. You’ve said how you feel.” She reached for the shotgun. “Go, I mean it.”

Without saying any more, he left, leaving a sobbing Annabel alone in her cabin.