Buttercup Price: Brides Of Benson, #1

By Robin Rance

After a man and a woman end up at unexpected stops on their journey, fate will intervene to try and change their paths...

 

Lucifer Grant, the nephew of Ulysses S. Grant, left the eighteenth President's side to make a place for himself in the wild west, leaving politics behind.

He had also given up hope of ever finding that one special lady. One who didn't have an agenda, and would love him for who he was, and not what he could do to further their station in life.

 

He stumbles across a small town looking for good leadership and finds himself in the role of sheriff. Right away, he's caught in the middle of the personal wars between the townsfolk and ranchers. Anxious to find a permanent replacement and get on his way further west, he meets the stagecoach with five blushing brides as its passengers.

 

Buttercup Price was upset when she learned she'd have to leave the one man she cared about behind and hoped he'd wait by the door patiently for her return. She's traveling to San Francisco to visit her Aunt Gemmy with a trusted escort.

 

Fearing being robbed or scalped by Indians, they find themselves sharing a coach with five mail-order brides headed for Benson, Arizona, near Tombstone.

 

However, not long into their journey, she has a difficult time keeping her mouth shut and quickly makes an enemy of one of the brides-to-be.

 

The detour they had to make to Benson was unexpected. But once she sets eyes on the town sheriff, all her other plans are soon forgotten. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robin Rance
• Release date: Apr 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201996437

Robin Rance

Robin Rance is married but spent twenty-two years as a single mother of five before she married her forever husband. She was a letter carrier for twenty-four years and is now retired from the postal service. Now she lives in Southern Utah, where she writes her books, cooks, and spends quality time with her family and grandkids.   Robin began writing after a reoccurring dream kept making an appearance. She wakes up regularly with other stories begging to be told. Robin generally writes contemporary romance and has written other genres, including inspirational romance and a fantasy historical book. She also has three children’s books, one a sweet young adult book.  Robin currently has over thirty books that are all self-published and is always working on writing more. If you enjoy what you’ve read, please remember to leave a review, and please recommend her to your friends and family members who read

Book preview

After a man and a woman end up at unexpected stops on their journey, fate will intervene to try and change their paths...

Lucifer Grant, the nephew of Ulysses S. Grant, left the eighteenth President's side to make a place for himself in the wild west, leaving politics behind.

He had also given up hope of ever finding that one special lady. One who didn't have an agenda, and would love him for who he was, and not what he could do to further their station in life.

He stumbles across a small town looking for good leadership and finds himself in the role of sheriff. Right away, he's caught in the middle of the personal wars between the townsfolk and ranchers. Anxious to find a permanent replacement and get on his way further west, he meets the stagecoach with five blushing brides as its passengers.

Buttercup Price was upset when she learned she'd have to leave the one man she cared about behind and hoped he'd wait by the door patiently for her return. She's traveling to San Francisco to visit her Aunt Gemmy with a trusted escort.

Fearing being robbed or scalped by Indians, they find themselves sharing a coach with five mail-order brides headed for Benson, Arizona, near Tombstone.

However, not long into their journey, she has a difficult time keeping her mouth shut and quickly makes an enemy of one of the brides-to-be.

The detour they had to make to Benson was unexpected. But once she sets eyes on the town sheriff, all her other plans are soon forgotten. 

Copyright owned by Robin Rance ©Robin Rance Author

Robin Rance retains 100% of the rights and copyright licenses to the manuscript and all other materials found in this book.

Case number: 1-7301014799

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. @Robin Rance 2018

ISBN: 9798814040190

Acknowledgments:

I did a lot of research on the stagecoach lines.

This article was very useful.

http://genealogytrails.com/main/stagecoaches.html

My husband and I spent some time in Tombstone Arizona speaking to the locals, and we learned a lot about the town of Tombstone and Benson while we were there.

Wikipedia is a great source to use as well.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benson,_Arizona

I found many fascinating facts of that era from the book, ‘Arizona’s Best Ghost Towns,’ by Philip Varney

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to the men and women who created this country, and the lives that were lost while building the United States we know now.

The brave men will never be forgotten; those who served and dedicated their lives to protect others even during the lawlessness of the outlaws, the betrayal of the American Indians, and those who thought they were above the law; the powerful miners and ranchers who wanted to control the wild west and all who lived in it.

Chapter One

Buttercup Sweet Price

Pa, I don't understand why you're sending me to help Aunt Gemmy. Why can't Cecily go? She muttered under her breath, My younger sister needs some time away from that rascal James Thorson.

What did you say, Buttercup? Her father called out from the other room where he was writing down any last-minute instructions to give to the man he hired to escort, Bea on her journey to San Francisco. Simon West was an older gentleman of her father's age who'd just retired from his service as a special protector for government officials. He was an old friend of Wilford Benjamin Price and had known Buttercup, her entire life.

Nothing, Pa. Buttercup could complain all she wanted, and it wouldn't matter. Her sister would stay behind in Boston, while she'd be confined inside a small stagecoach full of sweaty bodies. However, the thought of being on a train for some of the long journey was exciting.

Buttercup loved her name when she was a young child. She'd always had golden locks and large dewy green eyes the size of the flower she was named after. But when others heard it now, they sniggered behind their gloved hands or whispered behind her back. She used the simple name Bea when she wasn't around her family.

Bea went upstairs and glanced over her room once more to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. She didn't know what to expect once she arrived in San Francisco, but Buttercup wasn't going to get caught without her eveningwear should the opportunity come up where she would accompany her aunt, to a social event or a night at the theater. She was leaving nothing to chance. Bea tied her yellow trimmed bonnet under her chin in the mirror, then brushed off the non-existent wrinkles from her matching yellow and white striped skirts before making her way back down the stairs.

Cicely had been waiting in the sitting room and met Bea at the bottom of the steps. I'll miss you so very much, Buttercup. Give Aunt Gemmy, a big hug from me, won't you?

Bea scrutinized her sister's face. I know you're up to no good, Cecily Rose Price, and you'd better keep your wits about you when you're around James. He isn't good enough for you.

Cecily huffed, then ran her small hand over her darker curls before answering, Bea. Mind your own business, Sister. Why do you think you're the one who's leaving for San Francisco and not me?

Cecily's lips quickly puckered at first, and then she got tightlipped. "Daddy knows all about Reginald Winkler. I read the letter Father sent to Aunt Gemmy asking for her help. I can't wait to tell Reginald where you are once, he comes calling for you.

I will miss you while you're gone. I hope you don't mind if I borrow your lovely blue ankle boots; they'll match my new fur-trimmed dress perfectly.

Before Bea could reply, her mother rushed into the room and gathered her close. Buttercup, I'll be lost without you. Will you please take care of yourself? Ask my sister, Gemmy, to watch over you and keep you safe from those heathen cowboys; I've heard they don't follow the rules of the civilized world anymore but run rampant through the city taking whatever they want. And that includes beautiful young maidens. I wish Simon could remain with you while you're with Gemmy, but alas, he has some business of his own to take care of once you reach San Francisco.

Bea's mother kissed her cheeks and kept her close until her father entered the room. Young lady, I'll miss you greatly.

Buttercup knew this would happen when she said her goodbyes to her mother. She sniffled and sunk her face into her mother's shoulder. I'll miss you the most.

Her father spoke from the door, Don't cry, my dear girl. Simon has assured me that he will look after you. When the time comes for you to return, he will escort you back home to us. In the meantime, stay by Gemmy's side, and be sure to write to us at least once a week to let us know how you are both coping. We'll miss you. Her father pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her golden curls.

The rapid knocking on the front door signaled the arrival of the agent, and Bea pulled the handkerchief from the large pocket sewn into the folds of her skirt and wiped her nose. I'll miss you all very much, even you, Cecily. Please don't forget to write to me as well.

Bea stood back as the agent carried all her bags down the front steps. After he finished, Mr. West, met with her father in his private office to discuss her traveling arrangements. Bea was sure that whatever they discussed was done with the threat of bodily harm should Simon allow anything to happen to Wilford's oldest daughter.

The two men shook hands once the door was open, and Simon West called out, Are you ready, Buttercup? Say your final goodbyes; we must catch the noon stagecoach.

Bea had already said her goodbyes, but she had one more thing she needed to do. Mother, Reginald wasn't expecting me to leave this soon. I've written a letter explaining things in some detail for him. Will you give it to him the next time he comes calling for me?

Marigold Price liked Reginald, but Bea knew she wasn't pleased when she found out how close they'd gotten. Yes, Buttercup. I'll give him your message. It will do you both some good to get away from one another; separation only strengthens a relationship if it's meant to be.

Bea glanced over at her sister, who tittered behind her handkerchief. Bea didn't have a mean bone in her body, but Cicely had asked for it. Then you might want to speak with Cicely, Mama. her sister's face turned beet red, and her eyes opened wide. She shook her head slightly at Bea.

"James Thorson's been spending way too much time in our garden. Cicely, when did you become an expert on roses?

Mama, I'll let you and Pa know when I've arrived. Bea kissed her mother's smooth cheek and hurried over to embrace her father one more time.

Cicely's glare taunted Bea as she approached her. Dear Sister, She said as she gave her a peck on each rosy cheek. I don't know what I'll do without your company at night. Take care.

Bea hurried over to the front door and took Simon's outstretched hand as he assisted her down the steps of the front stoop. She waved at her parents before Simon helped her into the carriage that would take them both to the depot where they'd catch the noon stagecoach. She continued to look out the window until her family was no longer in her sight, then sat back against the cushioned seats.

Are you afraid, Miss Price? Simon's baritone voice took her from her thoughts. He was the same age as her father, but years of working as an agent had kept him fit, unlike her overindulged father, who was comfortable with doing nothing which involved his physicality. Benjamin Price was a brilliant man who used his mathematical skills to help others achieve their goals of financial success.

I'm not afraid, but more nervous. Agent West, how long have you known my father, and where did you first meet?

Bea feigned interest in what he was saying, but her mind was on Reginald. They'd had a slight disagreement over his closest friend, William Scott, the last time they'd spoken, and she was afraid, Reggie would think she had left him in spite. She hoped he would understand once he read the letter explaining the situation, and that was if he got the message at all.

Bea interrupted the agent in the middle of his ramblings. How long is the trip to San Francisco, and where do we meet the train to continue our journey?

Miss Price, we're taking the stagecoach to St. Louis; it'll take us close to twenty days to get there barring any mishaps. From there we'll catch The A & P train which will take us to San Francisco. Once again, barring any mishaps and considering the weather, we should reach San Francisco sometime in the middle of next month. Simon checked his pocket watch. If we don't make that stagecoach on time today, it could delay us another week.

Simon beat on the roof of the carriage before sticking his head out the open window. He called out to the driver, I'll have your head on a platter if we miss that stagecoach. We don't have all day.

A picture containing transport, wheel, close Description automatically generated

THE LAND ADMIRAL IN charge of the Concord coach personally inspected each piece of luggage before loading it on his sleek vessel. He claimed there was a weight limit of twenty-five pounds per customer, and his reasons for being such a stickler to the rules were the United States post. The mail must go through at all costs.

I'm sorry, Miss Price, but you're not going to be able to take all your bags on the coach. As you can see, six other passengers must also adhere to the rules. You can send whichever one is the most insignificant back with your carriage driver, or you can leave it here at the depot. Your choice. George Perkins moved on to the next passenger in line and went over his speech again.

Mr. West, I cannot send anything back home. You've got to say something to him, Sir. Bea examined the other passengers who were waiting in line. Besides herself and Mr. West, there were five other women of all ages, sizes, and social standings as well as another gentleman who kept to himself. His bag had passed inspection, and he was already climbing up the few stairs into the coach.

Will you look at that, Agent West. That man has already staked his claim inside that coach for the most comfortable place to sit. Doesn't he know a gentleman should offer the first choice to the ladies waiting to get on board?

Bea peeked at the five women whom she spoke of, and an eyebrow rose above one of her bright green eyes. Well, I suppose you could call some of them ladies.

Most of the women who would be her and Agent West's traveling companions looked like they were down on their luck, and Bea immediately wondered where they'd found the funds for the trip out west. She'd heard her parents arguing about the price of sending her across the country to stay with her aunt. Three hundred dollars was a drop in the bucket compared to the cost of some of her dresses, and she brought some of those with her.

There was that one woman who kept staring at Bea. Her attire was shabbier than the others, and it was apparent from her lack of manners that she was in a lower class than the rest of them were. Agent West, do you know if those women are traveling to St. Louis with us? I'm not sure if I want the one on the very end sitting anywhere near me in the coach.

Simon's brows met in the middle above his crooked nose. "Now Miss Price, I know your mother raised you better than to speak of others who are less fortunate, in that manner.

"Stay put, Miss Price. I must arrange for your other bag's return to your home. After I've taken care of those details, I'll ask the land admiral for the exact details of all the passengers.

After all, your safety is my first priority, and if I spend my time worrying whether or not the two of you might scratch the other's eyes out, then it will be most unpleasant.

Buttercup watched her protector walk away but still felt the girl's glare boring into her back. She quickly spun around, and sure enough, the girl stared with no gumption at all of how rude it was. Bea was determined to ask the girl if she had a problem and lifted her skirts off the ground as she moved forward to confront her.

Bea was abruptly detained by a firm hand placed on her forearm, she stopped and turned expecting to See Agent West. It was the same gentleman who only moments before had climbed inside the stagecoach. His forwardness rattled her, but she kept her composure; it wouldn't do for him to see how nervous he'd made her.

Sir, may I ask what you are doing with your hand on my person?

His southern drawl when he spoke wasn't as smooth as some Bea had heard. Ma'am, just wondering where your bodyguard went s'all. Bea saw him glance over her shoulder, and he released her arm.

He's here now, so I'll leave you be, He tipped his worn hat in Bea's direction and then strolled over to converse with the ladies who were also making the trip.

The strange man's interaction with Bea had left her shaken. Agent West stopped next to her. Are you all right, Miss Price? Your pale cheeks match the color of your fancy collar. I do hope you're not coming down with something. It will make traveling unbearable.

Bea started to answer Agent West's question and stopped. The mysterious man who had approached her earlier disappeared from her vision. Now, the girl who'd been so rude before spoke animatedly with one of her traveling companions.

At least she assumed they were traveling together.

Thank you for your concern, Mr. West. I must have eaten something earlier this morning that didn't agree with me, but I'm fine now. Did you learn anything about the rest of the passengers? Bea directed all her attention toward her father's friend.

Simon cleared his throat and took Bea's hand and placed it on his forearm. The coach will be ready to leave once the land admiral examines the rest of the bags. There's a bench under that shade tree where we can sit and talk, especially if your stomach is troubling you. I'll tell you some of what I learned while we wait.

Buttercup had heard rumors of the agency in town that advertised their services for mail order brides but wasn't aware that it indeed existed until Simon told her about the five women, all of which were bought and paid for by men looking for wives. They were miners, and the silver and gold coming out of the mines in Arizona had made them all wealthy. But the harsher living conditions and outlaws constantly chased from the town had resulted in a need for female companionship.

Bea studied the women as Simon spoke and concluded that she would do her best to befriend them; it must have been a difficult decision for them to make. Bea could never lower herself to be bought and paid for by a man she'd never met, let alone become his wife.

Buttercup, it appears that our land admiral, George Perkins, and his partner are waiting for us to board the coach. Let me assist you inside, and you must do as I ask. Travel will be harsh and uncomfortable, and the danger of deserters and outlaws will be a constant threat. Agent West helped Bea off the bench.

Before they joined the others, he caught Bea's attention. There's one more important thing I must stress to you. Do not call me Agent West in the presence of the others.

Bea raised an eyebrow, Why, Agent... I'm not sure what the proper way for me to address you would be, Sir? Wouldn't I be safer if the others know you're an agent hired for my protection?

Address me as Uncle or Mr. West. Miss Price, we'll both be safer if the others aren't aware of my station in life. Trust me; I'm doing what's best for us both.

Uncle, Uncle, Uncle. Bea repeated the word in her head as the two of them approached the stagecoach. As Simon was helping her inside the coach, she caught the eye of the man sitting in the corner; he was the one who had approached her earlier. He winked before pulling his hat over his face.

There were three benches inside the coach; two of them were on either side with one in the middle. There were boxes and bags stuffed under all of the seats. The only other male inside the coach feigned sleep, and he hugged the corner. The five women split up, with three sitting against the back wall, and the other two sitting on the middle bench.

Once Bea was inside the small vessel, it was evident why they didn't claim the seat next to the foul-smelling man.

Thank you, Uncle. Bea forced the word out through the handkerchief that she'd pulled out of her skirt pocket. She pressed herself into the opposite corner of the bench, leaving the middle for Simon.

You're very welcome, Buttercup.

The sniggers of the brides-to-be sitting in the coach when they heard her name made her cringe. She should have asked Simon to call her Bea during their travels. They would spend many hours in this coach together, and she would try to remain friendly. However,