Firsts for Love

By Doreen Milstead

The First Female Cable Car Operator & Her Wealthy American - An upper-class young woman in Quebec has a lifelong dream of being the first woman cable car operator in San Francisco. Living in a Swamp with Her Cajun Fisherman -- A Gaelic woman decides to head for America from Ireland after finding a mail ordered husband. Falling for the Mysterious Stranger on the Boat - An upper class Victorian woman decides to take the plunge after being widowed and travels to her mail order husband in Texas, with only her dog & her maid at her side.The Widow Coppersmith & Theo in Exodus, Kansas - When a black man in the small town of Exodus, Kansas, writes away for a mail order bride, little did he know that a petite & very white widow of a British soldier would arrive on the train platform in the neighboring town of Generosity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Hart
• Release date: Feb 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463216187

Book preview

Firsts for Love

By

Doreen Milstead

Copyright 2020 Susan Hart

Table of Contents

The First Female Cable Car Operator & Her Wealthy American

Living in a Swamp with Her Cajun Fisherman

Falling for the Mysterious Stranger on the Boat

The Widow Coppersmith & Theo in Exodus, Kansas

The First Female Cable Car Operator & Her Wealthy American

Synopsis: The First Female Cable Car Operator & Her Wealthy American - An upper-class young woman in Quebec has a lifelong dream of being the first woman cable car operator in San Francisco; and when she meets a rich American at her debutante party, her dreams are quickly realized. However, it’s a much harsher reality that meets her, both on the job and with her burgeoning love for the man who is winning her heart.

Olivia Claire Westmont pulled the heavy wool coat tighter around her neck against the harsh Canadian wind that enveloped her. She hated the cold and Canada - neither of them suited her for many reasons. Since her family had moved here from France ten years earlier, she waited anxiously for her twenty-first birthday and the freedom that monumental day would bring her. Today was that day.

She slipped into the dress boutique where her mother had sent Olivia for a fitting. The potential dress was her first full formal, a garb suitable for the lavish debutante party her parents were throwing for her later in the evening. Olivia didn’t like the idea, but sometimes it was easier to go along with something than to fight it. This was one of those times.

Hi, she said in French, assuming the clerk would not be bilingual. I’m here for a fitting.

Name? the clerk answered in a curt English accent, intentionally curt, Olivia was sure. Often, people were insulted at the use of the French language in common business transactions because more of the residents of Quebec spoke English than French. When customers spoke French, it appeared they were insinuating something, though most often, they weren’t.

Olivia Westmont, she answered just as curtly, and in English.

Very well, the clerk said. I’ll bring the seamstress out to you. One moment.

The girl disappeared into another room, the door closing behind her. Olivia could hear their muffled voices. In a minute of two, the seamstress appeared.

Good morning, she said in French. How may I help you? The last phrase was in English.

Olivia instantly decided to stop the game and spoke from that point on in English.

I’m to be fitted for a dress I’m wearing tonight. My mother sent me down to try it on, and to bring it home if the fitting is right.

Sure, come with me, Miss Westmont.

Olivia noted that the seamstress had not been told her last name by her, so she knew that the clerk had said it. Nonetheless, she let it go and followed her through the same door and into a separate fitting room. In a moment, the woman brought the dress to her.

Olivia dressed in it and found it fit perfectly. She stepped out of the private room and into a central room where the seamstress waited. After carefully checking the hem and the waist fitting, they both agreed the dress was perfect.

It was white, as most debutante dresses were, but the small pink roses, all handmade, that rimmed the tight-fitting lace wrists and neck made Olivia’s dress a little different from the plainness of the others she knew would be there. It also fit her personality, her goals and her dreams about life.

She was certain that among the fifty or so young women being presented that night, she was the only one who wanted to flee Canada for San Francisco to become a cable car driver. Women didn’t do those sorts of things in the late 1800s, but she was planning to, come hell or high water or her parent’s objections.

Her bags were already packed.

Olivia turned around and around in front of the mirror to admire her pretty self and her nice body. She was every man’s dream in many ways, but she had no interest in them at all. Her plans didn’t include love, marriage, and a baby carriage like her friend’s dreams did. She craved the sound of metal wheels on metal tracks going up and down the hills of the city she had only visited once. But, once was enough - the connection had cemented itself in her body as soundly as her heart beat inside her chest.

I love it, she told the seamstress. It is perfectly made and perfectly suited. Thank you so very much!

It looks very nice on you, the seamstress replied. You have the complexion and the body to wear white. Purity, I’d say, about you makes that so.

Olivia ignored the purity remark because it mattered nothing to her. To others who dwelt on it, maybe so, but she could care less about the image of virginity and purity and all that crap just to get the best man one could snare. She wanted the touch of cold steel in her hand as she rang the cable car bell at every stop.

That is what made her heart sing, not love.

The dress was packed into a large box, carefully folded with tissue paper in between the many layers of fabric.

After it is worn, pack it this way, the seamstress told her, and you can wear it time and again when the occasion fits.

Yes, thank you, Olivia said, taking the box in her arms and rushing home. It would take hours for the housemaids to dress her and make up her face and do her hair. Everything had to be perfect when she stepped into the room on her brother’s arm for the introduction. Her mother had drummed that little bit of notice into her for weeks.

The evening was just as glorious as Olivia suspected it would be. She looked divine, much prettier than most of the girls and in demand for the many waltzes that the well-known band played. Her dance card stayed full all evening, but her mind was centered on the trip she would take the next day to San Francisco, the ticket for which lay in her hidden bag.

By the stroke of ten o’clock when the ball ended, she was so tired that walking the two blocks home was greatly dreaded. One man whom she had danced with several times found her sitting in a chair, unscrupulously rubbing her feet.

Your feet hurt? he asked her, taking the chair next to her. His accent was clearly American, she could tell by the slight twang in his voice.

Killing me, she said. I know this isn’t the way debutante’s act, so forgive me, but I do what comes naturally to me regardless of the social preference.

He laughed aloud. Don’t mind me, he said. I’m the same way. Don’t care what any of them think.

Are you from America? Olivia asked, hoping he would share the information.

I sure am. Came up here because my brother invited him. That tall girl who came just before your introduction is my niece, his daughter. She is going home with me day after tomorrow for a job in America.

Really? Where are you from?

San Francisco. Ever heard of it?

Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. I most certainly have, she said, the excitement flowing from her. I’ve been there once before with my father. Loved the place, the people but most of all, the cable cars!

Ah! There are the pride and joy of San Francisco, that’s for sure. A ride up the hill on Powell is a certain anticipation for the quick ride down to the wharf! A thrill for me every time I’m on it.

I want to go there, she said, the dreaminess in her voice evident.

Then come with us! I’m safe to travel with, and you’ll have Mary along for company. Do you know anyone there?

Not a soul, Olivia said. Actually, and this is a secret…but I planned to runaway tomorrow and go there on my own.

He turned to face her. What?

I am already packed, she said defiantly. I don’t think my father would approve, and I know for certain that my mother wouldn’t. Running away is the only hope I have.

Oh heaven’s no! The man’s warning was evident in his voice. That city is no place for a young woman alone, especially one with your looks! It’s full of prospectors and men of questionable character. You absolutely cannot just go there alone!

His words ate a hole in her heart. She knew he was right, but Olivia wasn’t afraid of men or their character. Her life of being coddled and shielded also made her naïve of the world, Canada’s world and beyond. He could see the effect his words had on her.

Look, Miss Westmont, if you want to go to San Francisco, do it in the right way. And, I’ll help you. Let me talk to Mary and to your father over the next day and see what I can work out. Your father knows me well, so there is a great chance he’d let you come along, at least for a visit. Then, we can plan further for your staying there. How’s that for a plan?

She quickly realized that he was right, and that her father might just go along with such an offer, which meant that her mother would complain and fume, but she could never overrule her father’s words.

Would you do that? she asked, just to be certain that he was sincere with the offer.

Absolutely, was his quick answer. In fact, I’ll find him right now and make the proposal. Are you in agreement with that?

Olivia watched her father in the corner talking with several gentlemen as the tables were being cleared from the hall and the crowd thinned out. He was on the committee that had put this whole affair together, so they would be some of the last people leaving the hall.

That’s a great idea. If he already knows you…well, that might just work out. Yes, by all means, talk with him.

Okay. Be right back. The gentlemen strode across the long hall and joined the group of men where her father was. She watched them shake hands before her father introduced him to the other men.

Gradually, the man pulled her father aside. She lowered her head, but sneakily looking up, she saw her father look in her direction, a puzzled look on his face. Olivia refused to let him see her face. They began to walk in her direction. She realized the man hadn’t even told her his name.

Olivia? her father’s voice rang out before he got within ten feet of her. She looked up.

I’m very surprised to learn that you have an interest in traveling to San Francisco again. What brings on that sudden idea?

She looked up into her father’s confused and surprised face.

I just love the city, she said quietly. He is from there, and Mary is his niece. She is traveling back there with him. He asked if I would like to come along for a visit. Of course, I said yes, Father. You know how much I love it there from when you took me.

And how long would you plan to stay?

Olivia knew she couldn’t say forever, so she appeared a little unconcerned about the length of time.

Oh, I don’t know, a week? a month? Long enough to enjoy it. I know the new opera house is opening soon. I’d love to see that happen.

Her father looked at the man with a question in his eyes.

That’s true, the man said. It is scheduled to open next month, although I’m not sure of the date. She’s welcome in our home for as long as she wants to stay. Mary would love to have the company, and we’d be certain Olivia was safe and well entertained. But, Sir, it’s your decision.

You do know, Olivia, that I have to talk this over with your mother first.

Yes, Sir, I would want you to, of course.

Her father turned to the gentleman.

Could you possibly come by our house for breakfast in the morning? I’ll talk with her tonight and let you know then. We’d be honored to have you and Mary join us.

What a delightful idea, the man said. Of course. What time is best for you?

Around nine. That would be just perfect. We’ll have breakfast and talk over this possibility. Be sure to bring Mary, too. She and Olivia are already friends.

Mary will come with me, the man said, sure in his words. We’ll see you a nine. He took Olivia’s hand and kissed it, winking at her as he did so. He left without any further conversation.

How do you know him? her father asked when the man was out of earshot.

I danced with him several times tonight. First time I’ve ever seen him, but I’ve talked with Mary about him before. She thinks the sun rises and sets in him. He just invited me out of the blue to join them on the trip. Father, I would really love to go.

I know, I can see it in your eyes, honey, but let me talk to your mother. You know how possessive and controlling she is with you.

Olivia’s eyes fell to her lap in mock disappointment. I know, she whispered.

But, I can be pretty persuasive, so don’t give up on the possibility, he added quickly.

She looked up at him and smiled. Not so much because of his encouragement, but because her runaway bag was still packed and Olivia knew herself well enough to know she would use it if the need arose.

They walked the two blocks home