ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories) (325 page)

              She looked pained and sighed. “You are welcome to join us, of course. You are family, and you have no one else here, so we will not abandon you to the world. But, dear,” and here she took both my hands in hers. “You are pretty and young. Will you not make some effort towards meeting with suitors?”

              I will confess to you, reader, that I had made no such effort. The men of Brooklyn are of a good nature, have decent upbringings, and are not uncomely to look upon. However, I had hoped to maintain my independence for a few more years. At 22, I felt that I was far too young for marriage. Though it is, to be certain, fine for many a young woman even younger than I was, I could not see it suiting my character well. And there is another matter that I hesitate to mention.

              I don’t consider myself homely, but I am, and there is no kind way to say this, extraordinarily tall. It is a fact that when I stand, I tower over the vast majority of men of my Brooklyn. For that reason alone, I have seen far less interest cast in my direction than a girl could hope for. It can be rather demoralizing.

              “Are you familiar with this magazine?” She passed to me a volume of
Ladies’ Monthly Chronicle.
I admitted to her that though I had seen it, I had never pursued its contents. She directed me to the back.

              “Here you may find many good gentlemen correspondents eager to meet a woman if pure heart and suitable character. My own friend Myrna Highgate took to corresponding with a man who had sought his fortune in Colorado. They have a pleasant life, with many children and all the bounty that country has to offer.”

              It was the “many children” that gave me cause. No doubt I spoke stiffly when I took up the magazine and assured her I would give it thought.               In truth, I did not for a good week afterwards. But curiosity got the better of me and soon I did find I was in conversation with a man by the name of Eli W. Pierce. Even after enough time had elapsed that I felt comfortable attempting a new life in his promised haven of California, I could not suspect that we would find love while coming so close to dying in each other’s arms.

My Dearest Minnie,

My heart fairly races to know that soon you will be on your way to be with me. It’s my greatest wish that you should be happy and safe here by my side as soon as possible.

There is much I look forward to acquainting you with in Chase. We are situated on the banks of a gentle river aptly named the Feather a tributary of the Sacramento, that great northern, winding ribbon of water in the center of our broad valley. We have a fair view of mountains within this basin, a panorama I hope you will come to love.

These are settled lands, though you may have heard otherwise. As we have discussed, I came here with my father and his brothers who sought their fortunes in the waning years of the rush. I have seen much change to these lands in that time. Instead of growing their wealth through mining, the families instead helped pioneer Chase, and in this way we have become the respectable family of the town. I think you’ll be pleased by the sophistication to be found in even such a small town as this.

I’ll not go on and on with this letter. It is enough to know that I will see you soon. I hope that you are delighted in meeting me as I have been by the photograph and locket you have sent

ahead.

Yours,

Elias

              I looked over the letter once more time before carefully tucking it away in my bag. The ship lurched suddenly, causing me and the other passengers below decks to gasp in fear. I heard them shifting in their seats, and worrying to one another.

              “Have you ever seen such a storm!” I was seated next to a woman dressed all in pink and black named Ida Beaumont. She was looking most distressed. The poor young thing had been looking exceptionally green in tint since the
Samuel B. Thompson
had picked her up in New Orleans. I had also struggled with the stomach upset initially, but somewhere off the Carolinas I became much more comfortable.

              “It is to be remembered.” I remarked.

              “To be remembered, should we survive it.” She responded, miserably. At this, I clucked my tongue disapprovingly.

              “We must be made of sterner stuff, Ida! Where we go, the pioneers are putting down their stakes, turning the rough land into fields and orchards. It’ll be fine. Put your faith in that.” I didn’t entirely believe my own words, but I suspected we’d be all right. I had chanced to pass a sailor on my way to the sitting rooms, and he looked as carefree during the worst of it as a child at play. I imagine the time to worry in such situations is when the expert is in clear fear for his life.

              I had hoped that perhaps my friend would find her constitution by the time we reached the Canal, but it was not to be. For my part, I marveled at the astonishing feat of engineering, a testament to man’s ingenuity even in the malarial climes. Fortunately for a few of my passengers, I had secured a good supply of quinine prior to our journey. Though it was never my intent, I made a small profit in selling of much of this medicine to those who could afford the purchase and insisted upon reimbursing me, as I did not become ill. I was not entirely industrious, as a few who could not afford full reimbursement were given my medicines for free. At any rate Ida’s sickness seemed to be entirely of the sea-going variety.

              We were struck by yet another massive blast from the fierce waves, and a few of our companions tumbled to the carpet. I allowed Ida to brace against me and held her so she wouldn’t end up in a heap with the others.

              I found that despite the terrors of the sea and the rumor that we risked being dashed upon the rocks of the Baja Peninsula, I was surprised to find I was having the time of my life. Never before had I or any member of my family ventured so far south or west on the globe! Whatever the life ahead had in store for me- and I did presume I’d arrive, my companions grim words notwithstanding- providence had given me the chance to see the world in a way so few had done, or perhaps ever would again. I knew it would be without propriety to do so, but I excused myself and made my way along the wildly sloping hallways to a stairwell I knew of. It would lead to the deck, and I felt a sudden desire to take in the air.

              It wasn’t possible to step a foot on deck, no matter my efforts, but I was able to lift my head and body above the deck itself and look out. The scene was one of the most astonishing that I have ever laid eyes upon. As we pitched and were tossed about in the storm, I could just make out the shape of the Mexican shoreline through ropes of lashing rain. I was soaked through the moment I had ascended the stairs, and I could just make out a lone sailor not far from my post, trying his best to reach the stern. He was gripping the railing with a steely strength, not unlike my own efforts to maintain my place on the stairwell. Above us, the sky was the grey of iron, and with each up and down upon the water, I thought I knew somewhat what Odysseus felt on his return to Ithaca. I do not fancy myself a heroine in the mold of Diana. But I do know what it feels like to be held captive by the sea, and that it is to give one’s future over to nature and the uncontrollable wilds.

---

              We docked in San Francisco, happy, whole, and very much alive. Not so much as an adventurous sailor had fallen overboard.

              I bade farewell to Ida and we made agreement to stay in touch. I asked that she visit me at her earliest opportunity, and she agreed. At the arrangement of my fiancé, I had expectation of a hotel room for the night. The next morning, I took my leave of Ida, who had expectations of meeting her own fiancé in that same city on the bay that evening. I will not tell you all the tales of my continuing voyage to Chase. We crossed the Bay by a much smaller boat, took a train to Sacramento, and from there departed for a lengthy overland rail journey to the former gold fields of the north.

              The further north we travelled, the smaller the villages and towns we encountered, until such time as I was obliged to depart the train and secure a carriage for the final stretch. Some of these communities I would call mere hamlets with no more than a scattering of wooden homes to indicate life. When we reached Chase in the early hours of dusk, I had no great expectations for civilization. I was not disappointed in that thought.

              It was with a weary heart that I appraised my surroundings as my dusty boots left the wagon’s step. I had seen my share of dime-store novels and Wild West adventure tales sold in Brooklyn. The tired, dark wood buildings bore all of these trappings amidst the shortgrass expanse before me. It was true that a winding little river could be spied to my south, and it meandered far and way to its presumed source in the nearby snowcaps. For natural beauty, I could not have asked for more beyond the borders of the village, in particular as the sun began to set in the west.

              But within the village, I could see I faced a very rustic life indeed.

              We disembarked near a large-framed building that readily advertised itself as the Chase Hotel. Several curious, youthful souls were interested in my comings and goings, and one boy among them entered the hotel in an astonishing hurry. He was followed by a man I immediately recognized to be Elias.

              “Minnie! At last!” The man who’d paid my way and for my stays along the journey surprised me by meeting me eye-to-eye. I’d had no expectation of meeting a man my own height, and the sight of him brightened my prospects.

              Even better, I can attest that the photograph he’d sent in exchange for my own had done him fair justice. He kept his red whiskers well-trimmed, and his hair neatly parted in the center. By the way his clothes hung, I could see he was strongly-muscled and lean.

              After our eyes had met for what I found to be an uncomfortable length, I looked away, embarrassed. We’d been traveling some hours, and even though I’d done what I could in the bouncing carriage, I feared my appearance would come as some disappointment. If it did, I will say it was much to his credit in that he showed no hint of dismay.

              He observed proprieties and didn’t embrace, but I could see a genuine joy in his face as he took my hands in his. “You are so very welcome to Chase, Minnie.”

              “Thank you. This is your uncle’s hotel that you spoke of?”

              “It is! Come in, please. Your bags will be seen to. Boys?” He motioned to the carriage and a troop

of the idle lads immediately went to work collecting all of my personal belongings.

              “We see a great deal of traffic here, though I know we do not look it.” He explained as we entered the lobby of the hotel. It was surprisingly refined, I will admit. There were plants, attractive dark curtains framing the windows, and a lovely wallpaper print of red and blue flowers. The floor was covered in a thick, expensive carpet that, while somewhat worn, had been kept swept and clean.

              As we entered, a trio of graying men approached. Each looked more eccentric than the other. The first and portliest of the men rushed to take my hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Cyril Pierce, Miss Wilson! It is such a pleasure to welcome you to the Chase Hotel! I am the proprietor and uncle to the fortunate young Elias before you. Here are my brothers Wilbur and Josiah,” he said, speaking for the whisper-thin, gangly man to his right and the fellow with the overly grand handlebar mustache to his right, “and they are equally pleased to see you. Is that not so?”

              “Of course!” The thin one said, gripping my hand with surprising force for one so gaunt. “I’m the town physician, you see, and I run the apothecary.”

              “And I’m your dentist and barber.” Josiah proclaimed. By the time he’d finished shaking my hand, my wrist was sore from their enthusiasm. “I’ll cut both men and women’s styles. No style is too complicated, no coif to be neglected!”

              “That’s fine, uncles, just fine.” Elias suggested. “I’ve no doubt Minnie is tired from her long journey. May I show her to her room?”

              “Certainly!” The three agreed, and Cyril added, “When you’ve had a chance to freshen up, I have asked the kitchen staff to stay on to prepare you dinner. Come down as soon as you’re ready.”

              “You’re all too kind.” I said, thanking them. “But I’m not so famished. I think I’ll simply turn in, if no one minds.”

              “Not at all.” Cyril agreed, and Elias led me up the carpeted stairs to my suite.