Camilla's Daughter

By Agnes Alexander

Escaping from a mother intent on her marrying a "suitable" man in Charleston, Camilla goes west to visit her uncle, a cook on a ranch. Camilla is stunned when a woman hands her a baby girl and then disappears. At a way station, she decides to leave it with the way-station's owner. An unkempt little girl tells her the baby wouldn't be safe, to take it with her. When Camilla leaves the next morning, the girl is hiding in the stage coach. When Camilla arrives at the ranch, she finds a sullen owner who begrudgingly lets her stay in the ranch house because she's his cook's niece. Sparks fly when she sees that he'd rather have anything interrupt his life than a woman and two little girls. Blake doesn't like the feelings this beautiful woman and her two daughters stir up in him—yet, he's furious when another man decides that Camilla would make the perfect wife...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781611608250

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CAMILLA’S DAUGHTERS

by

AGNES ALEXANDER

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright Ó 2013 by Agnes Alexander

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-61160-798-7

Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

Editor: Dave Field

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

To my sister, Camilla Hall. I love you for letting me use your name and for many other reasons.

Prologue

So your real name is Sullivan Bridges? Blake Cantrell grinned at his ranch cook and friend, Sully.

Dag-nab-it, Blake, that’s the name I was born with, but don’t nobody call me Sullivan ’cept family and I ain’t heard from none of them for nigh on to fifteen years. Now, read the dang letter to me.

I will, but I just can’t get over this Sullivan bit. It sounds mighty peculiar for somebody to be addressing you in such a proper manner. Blake’s dark eyes twinkled. He knew he shouldn’t be having fun at Sully’s expense, but ever since Sully had come to work on the Swinging C Ranch as the cook for the bunkhouse crew over twelve years ago Blake had enjoyed teasing the man. A man who Blake had grown close to and almost thought of as his second father.

Forget about my name and get on with it. Sully shook his head. I guess I should’ve learned to read like my folks wanted me to and I wouldn’t have to put up with your stalling.

Not wanting his friend to become more agitated, Blake opened the missive and began to read.

"My dearest brother… My goodness, you must have a sister. No brother would call you dearest. Why hadn’t you told me you had a sister?"

I don’t talk about her to nobody. Now, are you going to read the letter or not?

Blake shook his head. I bet the lady isn’t as ornery as you are.

She’s more ornery. She swore she’d never bother me again, so why in tar-nation has she decided to write me a letter?

I guess I have to keep reading for you to find out.

Then for heaven’s sake, do it.

Blake laughed and began reading again.

"I know I swore I’d never write you again after you said I was a mean, stubborn, stuck-up bitch, but here I am writing. I also know I’m the last person in the world you want to hear from, but please read this entire letter before you rip it up or burn it…

Is she really all that bad?

She’s worse and you don’t need to stop and ask me questions. Just read on so I can find out what the mean old gal wants from me now.

"All right, all right… You may hate me, but I know you always liked little Camilla. I also know she was only a child of three or four the last time you saw her. She turned eighteen in March so she’s now a young woman. Nothing would please me more than to see her find a nice young man and settle down as a young lady of her talents and breeding should. But will she? No! Not Camilla. The only men she seems to want to be around are the ones with those strange ideas that women are equal to men. The ones that tell her a woman should be allowed in medical schools or even politics. Can you believe it? My sweet little daughter has become a rebel.

After Mr. Pendergrass and I married, he insisted in her having a good education. We sent her to one of the best schools in Baltimore and she has been taught well, but she still won’t conform. She knows good and well how a proper lady should act, but when she returned home she seemed to have changed. She thinks it’s beneath her to do anything to help me with her little brothers."

Lord have mercy, has that silly woman gone and found her a second husband? I don’t know how she done it. I don’t know another man alive who’d put up with her like Bill Weston did.

Blake lifted an eyebrow, but continued to read… "You may not know that after Camilla’s father died, I remarried. I now have two little boys. One is seven and the other is five. They’re wonderful children and I’m proud of them. I’m trying to raise them so each of them will grow into a fine man like their father, who just so happens to be a lawyer and man of good standing in the community. Of course he wants his boys to become gentlemen just like he is. He would like for Camilla to settle down and stop trying to prove she’s so independent as much as I would…"

"Well, well, what do you know? The old gal always wanted to be in high society. Maybe she’s made it with this husband. The first one shore weren’t no fancy lawyer. Matter of a fact, Bill Weston worked in a dry goods store. Of course, at the time I guess Luwanda thought that was a step up from being a poor dirt farmer’s daughter. At least she got to live in town."

Blake smiled. Now who’s interrupting who?

Never mind me. Jist keep reading.

"Camilla says I cater to the boys too much and that I try to turn her into something she’s not. Of course, I’m trying to make a lady out of her. With her schooling and our social standing, that’s what she should be."

Blake chuckled. Sounds like you have a feisty niece.

What in blazes can I do about it, if I have?

Probably nothing.

That’s what I thought. Sully frowned at Blake. Now get on with it.

"Now to get to the point of this letter…"

It’s about time, Sully muttered.

Blake said nothing, but he did smile.

"I have come to my wits end with her and I think she needs a good lesson from someone besides her step-father or me. I decided to tell her about her uncle Sullivan. How, against all his family’s wishes, he went west to make his fortune. About how he lost everything, not once, but twice. How he refused to ask for help from his family when he needed it the most and ended up working on some rundown ranch somewhere in the wilds of Texas… What have you told your sister about my ranch, Sully?"

I ain’t told her a gol dern thing. As for asking for help from the family when I was down on my luck, how could I ask them for anything? The family I remember is worse off than I am. Most of them are still poor dirt farmers in South Carolina except maybe Luwanda. She thinks she’s high and mighty because she married a man who worked in town. I wonder how much she has to do with the family now she’s married to a lawyer?

Sully, do you want me to keep reading, or do you want to continue to blab about your sister?

Well, she’s something to blab about, believe you me. He frowned. Go on. Read me some more of her drivel.

"Let’s see. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Here we go… How he said he’d never stoop so low as to beg from family. How now he works as a simple ranch cook instead of coming home and finding a job or at least working with his family on the farm and admitting that he was wrong to leave in the first place."

Darn woman. How’s she know what I’m a doing? She thinks a man should wear those high button collars and set behind some counter all day and sell people stuff they probably don’t want or need. Ain’t no way in the world I’ll ever do that and I ain’t going back to the farm either.

Blake ignored him and read on. "Do you know what that headstrong girl did? She looked at me with her big blue eyes and said, ‘Mother, are you sure I’m your child? It looks like I might have more in common with Uncle Sullivan.’ She even said that she might come west to find the freedom she can’t find in Charleston. Well, I couldn’t take any more of her disobedience so I told her that if she thought she’d rather go west and be with Uncle Sullivan than me, then she should pack her bags and head to Texas to find you. Knowing how primitive and unsettled it is there, I figured she’d laugh in my face, but the next thing I know she’s making plans to come your way before the weather turns cold."

Gol-durn-it. That little gal’s got no business coming out here. She’d be too out of place.

Maybe she only said she was making plans to upset her mother.

I don’t know. Read on and we’ll see.

I don’t know exactly when she’s coming, but I thought you should be warned that she will be there. No need to write me back because I’ve washed my hands of the whole situation, but if you can manage to straighten her out, you can send her back to Charleston. I pray she will see the error of her ways and return, but if not, good luck to you in handling her rebellious ways. Your sister, Luwanda.

Give me that dang letter.

What are you going to do, Sully?

I don’t rightly know, but I gotta do somthin.’ We can’t have some prissy little filly coming around this ranch and causing trouble.

Why don’t you send a wire to your sister and tell her to keep her daughter in Charleston?

I’ll do that. If you’ll write it for me I’ll take it into town today and get it sent off.

Come on in my study and we’ll do it right now.

I appreciate that. You’re a good man, Blake Cantrell.

Blake only chuckled as he got his six-foot-two-inch frame from the chair on the porch and headed inside. Sully followed him.

Chapter 1

Camilla Weston was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of her decision to leave Charleston. Maybe her mother had been right when she warned her about the uncivilized aspects of the west and Texas in particular. So far the incidents that had happened to her seemed to point in that direction. The train had been grueling, with its frequent stops for water, the soot and grime getting on her face and clothes, and the continual complaints of the other passengers making her jittery.

Now here she was sitting in this hot stagecoach waiting for the next leg of her journey. Thank heavens she was the only passenger. She didn’t think she could stand it if anyone else was in this hot coach with her.

Picking up her fan and swinging it back and forth in front of her face, she thought of the tall maples in the front lawn of the big white house her mother had moved them into when she married Charlie Pendergrass. Sitting on the swing and sipping cool lemonade would certainly be preferable to the heat that surrounded her here, even if she did have to put up with her mother’s rants about her becoming more ladylike.

Camilla shook her head. I don’t care what she says, I’m ladylike in some ways, she muttered under her breath. Just because I don’t piddle around and worry about what dress I should change into for supper or how to try to impress the neighbors with my singing talents or lace-making doesn’t make me any less a lady.

But she knew her mother thought differently...

The day Camilla was packing for the journey west, Luwanda hadn’t given up trying to change her mind. Camilla, I wish you’d re-think this foolish trip. All you have to do is give up some of your unreasonable notions and you’d love the life here. You could still study your books without anyone knowing how smart you are about such things. Whether you want to agree with me or not, you still have a lot to learn about what a woman needs to know.

Mama, I already know you think I should sit and make lace or work on a sampler and think of what to have a cook make for dinner and about what dress my husband might enjoy seeing me in when he comes home from work. Of course, you’d tell me I’m never to mention his work to him and I’m not to dare ask him what he does to make the money he brings in to support the family.

Her mother shook her head. Can’t you understand how important it is for you to become more interested in what men look for in a woman? They don’t want a headstrong woman who wants to know about business and other financial things. Or one who sees going west as an adventure. You’re a beautiful girl. The men we’ve tried to get you interested in are always commenting on your lovely blond hair and your deep blue eyes. You could be the most sought-after young lady in Charleston if you’d only stop arguing with men about business and politics and let it be known you’re looking for a husband.

I don’t want to be sought after by any of the men I know. They’re only interested in controlling my life and in making me have babies. The last thing I want is a husband to tie me down with a house to run and bratty children to raise. I’m not sure I ever want to be a mother. She sighed. I know it’s the kind of life you lead and you seem to love it. But rest assured it’s not what I want for myself.

Oh, my dear, how can you say these things? I wish you could understand and accept how this world works. Women are supposed to be led by men. Why only the other day Charlie told me I was a wonderful wife and he wanted to thank me for listening to him when he said he liked the settee we have in the parlor. He said it was comfortable and made him feel at home just to look at it. Wasn’t that a sweet thing to say?

Camilla gave her mother a disgusted look. Don’t you see he’s controlling you, Mama? He didn’t want to spend the money on a new piece of furniture, so he told you what you have is fine. He knew if he said sweet things and complimented you first, you’d be acquiescent about it.

Luwanda didn’t correct Camilla for calling her mama, though she preferred to be addressed as Mother, which she considered a more formal term. Instead she said, I’m not sure of what acquiescent means.

Oh, Mama, it means agreeable, but in your case it means bending to your husband’s every wish whether you agree or not. I guess it’s just the way you are because I don’t know any other woman more agreeable than you when it comes to your husband’s ideas. She frowned. "I just don’t understand why you can’t be more agreeable and caring about my thoughts and wishes."

"I do care, darling. I just want you to wish for the things most other daughters want from life."

Let’s drop the subject. We’re never going to agree. Camilla continued packing. She knew there was no need to keep arguing with her mother. The woman would never give in and realize her daughter wanted more for her future than being a pampered and kept wife by a man who did anything he pleased while he never asked or cared what she wanted out of life…

The stage coach door opened and interrupted Camilla’s thoughts. A pretty young woman with buttercup blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a near perfect figure climbed into the seat opposite Camilla. She had a baby in her arms.

Camilla was startled at how much the woman looked like her. The two women could have been sisters or even possibly be mistaken for twins.

Hello. The woman smiled and began looking in the small bag she set on the seat as she entered.

Camilla nodded and returned the smile, though the last thing she wanted to do was grin. The driver, Mr. Naylor, had told her she was the only passenger, but she guessed this woman’s entrance changed things. Not only did Camilla think she now had to put up with someone else in the stagecoach, she’d probably have to contend with a crying baby. Babies weren’t something she knew much about or particularly liked. She had been away at school when her mother presented her with two younger brothers. When she came home for visits, she avoided them as much as possible because when she was around them they seemed to cry all the time. Harry and Jeffery were out of the baby stage when she returned from school for good, two years ago. Now they thought they were big boys at five and seven.

Oh, dear, the woman said, interrupting Camilla’s back home visit in her head. I left something. Would you please watch the baby while I go get it?

Though she really didn’t want to, Camila said, Of course.

The woman placed the baby in Camilla’s arms and exited the stage.

Camilla looked down at the chubby cheeks of the little girl. At least she guessed it was a girl. It wore a frilly lace bonnet and she thought no mother would put the lacy cap on a boy. I sure hope your mother won’t be long. I don’t know what I’d do if you started to cry. I always left the room and held my ears when my brothers began to howl and let Mother or the nurse deal with it.

The baby gurgled at her as the stage lurched forward.

No! Camilla cried. Her mother’s not back!

She frantically yelled as she looked out the window. The baby’s mother was nowhere in sight. Camilla was almost frantic as she felt the stage pick up speed.

Driver, driver, Camilla screamed. Stop. Stop immediately. Mr. Naylor, you’ve left this baby’s mother behind.

No matter how loud she called, her cries went unheeded, but she didn’t give up. She banged on the back of the stage hoping he’d hear, but doubted he could over the rattle of the wheels as they continued on their way.

Again, she screamed, Please, Mr. Naylor. You have to stop. I have that woman’s baby here. She’ll be furious you left her. You have to stop.

Finally, seeing that the driver wasn’t going to stop or even slow the stage, Camilla took a deep breath and sat back, thinking, this can’t be happening. But she knew it was. And it was happening to her.

Oh, dear God, what am I supposed to do now? She hoped God would enlighten her, but for some reason she knew she was on her own in this one.

It was then that she took a good look at the bundle in her arms. She noticed the note pinned to the side of the baby’s blanket. Her heart pounded as she reached for it. With trembling fingers she unfolded it and began to read.

Dear beautiful lady,

I’m writing this note before we actually meet. I’ve been coming to the train station for over a week to watch the passengers get off and hoping I’d find you. I’ve been looking for just the right person to be my baby’s mama. I wanted her to have a mama who looked like me. I knew when I saw you, you were the one and that’s why I followed you when you went to the stage line. I’m not able to keep my baby because I’m what women like you call a soiled dove. I live over a saloon and make my living entertaining men. I don’t even know who my baby’s father is. I only know that I can’t keep her and I want her to have a better life than I’ve had. I haven’t given her a name, but I’ve been calling her Angel. You can name her anything you want to. Please never tell her about me. Let her think she’s your little girl. I’ve put all the clothes she has and a couple of filled bottles in the bag with her. I’ve also put in a little money to buy her extra milk. I wish I could give you more, but I’m not well and have to visit the doctor and I’ll need it. I hope you will learn to love her and if you do, I know she will love you.

Lily.

Stunned, Camilla leaned back in the seat and stared at the baby. This was all wrong. That mama had made a terrible mistake in choosing her for the child’s mama. What in heaven’s name was she going to do with a baby?

* * * *

Though it came two days earlier, three days passed before Sully picked up the reply to the wire he sent his sister. He had the telegraph man read it to him when the man took it from a slot on the wall. It was simple and to the point. Can’t stop Camilla. She left yesterday. Luwanda.

Cussing under his breath, Sully almost ran out of the office and headed for the wagon where he’d already stored the supplies for the trip back to the ranch. Though there were only the horses to hear him he cursed most of the way of the twelve-mile trip.

As soon as he pulled the team into the back yard to give the housekeeper the supplies she’d ordered, he stomped up the steps to the back porch of the big house. The kitchen door was ajar and he hollered, You in there, Maggie?

Of course I am, she snapped. You don’t have to holler. I heard you drive up.

I don’t mean to holler at you. Where’s Blake?

Maggie swung her hefty frame across the kitchen and jerked open the door wider. Do you think the boss is in the habit of telling me where he’s going all the time?

You seen him at breakfast. I thought he might ’a said somethin’ about what he planned to do today.

Well, he didn’t, but I figure he’s with the hands out doing the branding. Now, quit your whining and bring in my supplies.

Sully frowned and ignored her demand. I need to talk to somebody.

What has you so all-fired stirred up you can’t do your job, Sully Bridges?

I can do my job, but I’ve got a problem. She said nothing and Sully took a deep breath. Though he knew Maggie Jenson pretended she didn’t like him, he didn’t want to play her game today. She was a woman and maybe she’d know what he should do about Camilla. Did Blake tell you that my niece has took a notion to come here to visit me?

Maggie raised an eyebrow and nodded. He might have said something about it, but I thought you were going to tell your sister not to let her come.

I did. I sent a wire off the very day I got her letter.

Well, that should have taken care of your problem.

It should have, but it didn’t.

Are you sure?

Look, Maggie Jenson, I know what I’m talking about.

But if you sent a wire…

I did send it. Here’s the one I got back today. He shoved the paper into Maggie’s hand. He knew she could read, but he also knew she was slow doing it. He waited to see her reaction.

Finally she raised her head. She was grinning. Looks to me like you’re going to have company, Sully.

Company I don’t want or need. What am I going to do with a niece here? I can’t ask Blake to let her stay in the big house and I shore can’t let her stay in the bunkhouse with me.

Maggie leaned her head to the side and worked her mouth to keep form laughing. "You do have a problem don’t you?"

I shore do. Damn that sister of mine. Why can’t she control her child?

I tell you what, Sully. While you get my supplies in the pantry and in the smoke house, I’ll think about it. Maybe I can think of something.

He looked surprised, but nodded. I’d appreciate it.

As he brought in the last load, he looked at Maggie expectantly. Thought of anything?

I might have.

His face lighted up. Well, don’t keep me in suspense, woman.

The sounds of hoofs came through the open door and prevented her from answering. She looked out. It’s the boss. I’ve got to get his dinner on the table and I bet the hands will be coming in for their dinner in the next few minutes, so you better go and get ready for them. We’ll have to talk later.

I told Dirk to get the food on the table if I weren’t back. So we can talk now.

No we can’t.

But—

No, buts. Go on with you and don’t you stop Blake and start whining to him. I know he’s hungry. Maggie turned to the stove and ignored Sully.

Gol dern woman, Sully muttered as he went outside and got into the wagon. Ain’t never no help when you need them to be.

He headed to the barn where he would unload the ranch items he’d purchased and where he’d unhitch and rub down the horses.

Blake was turning his horse into the corral when Sully stopped the wagon. Back from town already?

Yep. Sully jumped down and started taking the supplies that went in the barn from the