Genevieve, Bride of Nevada: American Mail-Order Brides

By Cynthia Woolf

A warehouse fire in Lawrence, Massachusetts has taken Genevieve "Genny" Copeland's livelihood, but opened a new opportunity for her. If she takes the chance, she could have the family she's always dreamed of but it would mean leaving everything she's always known. Believing that opportunity only knocks once, Genny gets on a train west to Elko, Nevada and a new life. She becomes a mail-order bride.

 

Stuart MacDonnell lost his wife in child-birth six months ago. Now he's left to raise a 2 year-old and a 6 month-old baby alone. He needs a wife but doesn't want to court someone and pretend to be in love. He'll never love again, but he needs a wife now and orders a mail-order bride.

 

Can Stuart and Genny come together and find happiness when they are at odds with each other? Will they find common ground and will love bloom amid the beautiful Ruby Mountains of Nevada?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Firehouse Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781938887697

Cynthia Woolf

Cynthia Woolf is the award winning and best-selling author of twelve historical western romance books and two short stories with more books on the way. She was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends. Their closest neighbor was about one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006. Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time. Cynthia loves writing and reading romance. Her first western romance Tame A Wild Heart, was inspired by the story her mother told her of meeting Cynthia’s father on a ranch in Creede, Colorado. Although Tame A Wild Heart takes place in Creede that is the only similarity between the stories. Her father was a cowboy not a bounty hunter and her mother was a nursemaid (called a nanny now) not the ranch owner.   Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she's made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.   TITLES AVAILABLE   NELLIE – The Brides of San Francisco 1 ANNIE – The Brides of San Francisco 2 CORA – The Brides of San Francisco 3 JAKE (Book 1, Destiny in Deadwood series) LIAM (Book 2, Destiny in Deadwood series) ZACH (Book 3, Destiny in Deadwood series)     CAPITAL BRIDE (Book 1, Matchmaker & Co. series) HEIRESS BRIDE (Book 2, Matchmaker & Co. series) FIERY BRIDE (Book 3, Matchmaker & Co. series) TAME A WILD HEART (Book 1, Tame series) TAME A WILD WIND (Book 2, Tame series) TAME A WILD BRIDE (Book 3, Tame series) TAME A SUMMER HEART (short story, Tame series)     WEBSITE – www.cynthiawoolf.com   NEWSLETTER - http://bit.ly/1qBWhFQ    

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Genevieve Genny Copeland, along with all of her co-workers, stood in the waning light of day and watched the fire claim the factory building that had provided their livelihood, meager though it had been. None of them had any idea what they were going to do. Mr. Brown, the owner of the factory, was also the one who had probably burned it down, though that couldn’t be proven.

Luckily no one had been killed. Now with jobs nearly impossible to come by, Genny was doing something she’d never considered before…she was becoming a mail order bride to a man she’d never met. Tomorrow she would catch the train from Massachusetts to Nevada but now she worried if she was doing the right thing.

At twenty-five, she was older than either of her roommates, though both Katie Maverick and Julia Benson were becoming mail order brides, too, as were a lot of the women who previously worked at the Massachusetts factory. They’d found their husbands-to-be through a publication called Grooms Gazette. Roberta McDaniel got the paper from her sister’s matchmaker, Elizabeth Miller, and handed out copies to any of the women who wanted one.

That was Roberta, always looking out for the girls in the factory. When she’d learned Mr. Brown was closing the factory, she’d been honor bound to tell everyone. The fire took that responsibility out of her hands.

Who burned the factory didn’t matter, though they all suspected that Brown had burned down the factory for the insurance money, but nothing could be proven and they were all unemployed regardless.

The rent on their apartment was due in a couple of days. Genny thanked her lucky stars she was leaving…in fact, they were all leaving. She was using the rent money for expenses to travel to her new home. Her future husband, Stuart MacDonnell, paid for her passage on the train, but she still had to eat for those days of travel. Her rent would have taken ten dollars of the forty she had saved.

The night before she left on the train for Nevada, Genevieve and her roommates sat in the living room. Their suitcases lined one wall. They were all leaving; Katie for Virginia and Julia for New York and tonight was the last time they would be together for a while, maybe forever.

It’s a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow, said Genny. That was the last piece of coal. She pointed toward the square metal stove they huddled around. The kitchen and living room were one room containing a wooden table and four mismatched chairs that had all seen better days. The table had one short leg which they always propped up with folded newspaper.

The sofa Katie and Julia sat upon, had bad springs but one woman slept on it every night. They rotated each week, so none of the roommates had to sleep on the sofa all the time.

The bedroom had only a double bed, closet dresser, bureau and commode. The three had shared the dresser and bureau as none of them had much in the way of clothes.

There was nothing about the shabby apartment she’d miss but Genny would miss her friends. They all promised to write each other. For now each was lost in thought about their new lives. Each excited and yet afraid of the journey, and the men, that awaited.

CHAPTER 1

October 11, 1890

Genny boarded the train headed west. All the money she had in the world, thirty dollars, was in her reticule. As the train pulled away from the station, Genny watched Lawrence, Massachusetts, the only place she’d ever known, fade away. Fear mixed with excitement enveloped her.

Her husband-to-be had two children. A little boy and a baby girl. And eventually they would have children of their own. His already having children was one of the things that appealed to her about him. Genny loved children. She’d been raised in an orphanage and from the time she was ten, she cared for the younger children and babies that came through. The children were the only thing she missed about the orphanage.

She was seated in a sparse car with ten rows of padded wooden seats, two on each side of a center aisle. A latrine was located in the rear of the car and she’d had to open her window several times to get rid of the stale smell. A little fresh air was all she wanted but more often than not, the refreshing breeze was accompanied by ash from the locomotive.

When she left Massachusetts she’d bought a loaf of bread, a round of cheese, and a couple of apples. That supply only lasted the first two days. The rest of her trip she had to buy food at the stops along the way or not eat at all which she did for two meals every day. She figured she could get by on one meal a day, though her stomach didn’t think so if the sounds coming from it were any indication.

She would travel to Elko, Nevada where Stuart would pick her up and she hoped they would stay for a few days getting to know each other before they married and left for her husband’s ranch in the Lamoille Valley, seventeen miles east of Elko. His letter said the trip would take three hours by wagon. She grimaced at the thought of more travel, but thought it would give them a chance to get to know each other. Give her more of a chance for a congenial relationship.

Genny’s train arrived in Elko seven days after she left Massachusetts. She had changed trains four times before getting on the Western Pacific Railroad into Elko.

A week of sitting upright in a rail car with ash and smoke wafting through the air was more than enough for her. She’d kept as clean as she could, using public bathrooms where she could find them and water pumps when she had to. All she wanted was a hot bath, and to get out of the corset she wore.

The discomfort she felt didn’t distract at all the different landscapes she’d been through. She thought the Rocky Mountains were the most magnificent things she’d ever seen. The Ruby Mountains she was in now though were quite lovely, too.

Elko. Elko station. The conductor for the came through announcing the stations as they approached. All of the conductors on each rail line had done this.

This is your station, miss.

She looked at the man and smiled. Thank you, Henry. You’ve been most kind to me.

She held out her gloved hand.

He took her hand in a gentle shake.

I hope you have a good stay in Elko. Though, for the life of me I can’t imagine what a woman like you will do in a place like this.

She sucked in a breath wondering what he meant by his statement. Though she had noticed that the little town seemed rather sparse and drab in comparison to some of the cities and towns she’d been through. I’m getting married. I won’t be in Elko long.

Well, congratulations. Have a wonderful life.

She hoped the conductor’s words came true. She always wanted a home and family of her own and this was her chance. Her only chance. I will. Thank you.

Henry tipped his cap and walked on, announcing the station one more time before exiting her car.

Once the train slowed and finally stopped, Genny grabbed her bag from the overhead bin. The contents of one carpet bag were all she claimed for possessions. A couple of gingham dresses, two black bombazine skirts, and three blouses—one pink, one blue and one white. One change each of chemise and of bloomers, and two pairs of socks rounded out the clothing she owned. She wore a traveling suit, her only petticoats, her black wool coat and lace-up boots. Not much to show for twenty-five years on this earth.

Genny was an orphan, so she didn’t have anything from her parents and had never had enough money to buy herself jewelry. Her wedding ring would be the first piece she’d ever owned.

Putting a roof over her head and food on the table had taken just about everything she earned. Seven dollars and fifty cents a week didn’t allow much room for anything but the essentials. She had taken months to save enough money for the boots she wore, but she needed them. She’d been lining the old pair with newsprint because of the holes in the soles. Half of what would have been this month’s rent had finally given her sufficient funds.

She walked out to the platform between the cars and down the stairs to the station platform. Excitement made her stomach feel as though butterflies were fluttering around inside her.

Never in her life was she so glad to be somewhere as she was now. And she didn’t care if she ever rode a train again.

Have a good life, Miss Genny, the conductor said, holding her bag with one hand and helping her down the steps with the other.

Thank you, Henry. You as well.

Genny took her hat and slapped it against her thigh hoping to remove some of the ash from the journey. Looking down she saw that her coat was the worse for wear and took it off and shook it, ash and dirt floating from it into the air. She shivered and put back on her coat, then picked up her bag and walked up to the one-story yellow station. She peeked in the window and saw a small waiting room with a potbellied stove and a ticket window.

The wind rushed past, making her pull the lapels of her coat closer and she thought about heading inside to get out of the cold. But how would Mr. MacDonnell find her? For the time being, she waited where she was. If she got too cold before he came then she could always retreat into the building.

Genny shivered in the cold wind, her coat unable to keep out the invisible force that froze her to the spot. Or had the approach of the tall man in the black hat, the collar of his sheepskin coat flipped up against the chill kept her motionless?

He stopped in front of her.

Miss Copeland?

His voice washed over her, a deep, silky baritone that sent shivers—having nothing to do with the weather—up her spine.

Yes, I’m Genevieve Copeland, but everyone calls me Genny. She held out her gloved hand. Are you Mr. MacDonnell?

His hand engulfed hers.

I am. Stuart MacDonnell.

He held her hand for a moment too long as his gaze took in her face and then traveled down her body. Perhaps she wasn’t wrong to hope for a solid marriage.

Neither had removed their gloves, but Genny would bet that his hands were rough, given the work he did for a living.