Luke & Lena

By Jennifer Slater

Fleeing an arranged marriage in 1867 Nebraska, beautiful and spirited Lena Elmhurst heads west hoping to start a new life in Arizona on her own terms. Alone in the desert after surviving a bloody massacre at the hands of a gang of ruthless outlaws, Lena encounters Luke, a handsome but prickly cowboy. The two are instantly drawn to each other, but Luke's painful past and Lena's secret stand in their way.

As Lena acclimates to life out west, she befriends Luke's sister, Louisa, who is battling demons of her own. With help from a beloved aunt and from the kind townsfolk, Lena is able to put her troubled past behind her ... until her intended husband shows up on her doorstep with news that would change her life forever. A devastated Lukes judges Lena harshly, but his feelings are soon tested when Lena is kidnapped by the murderous outlaw. Will Luke be able to save his beloved in time or will he lose her forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Slater
• Release date: Jul 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215210710

Jennifer Slater

I'm an avid reader whose love of books led me to try my hand at writing my own novels. I graduated from Hofstra University in 1989 where I had the privilege of taking a creative writing course taught by Oscar Hijuelos, the Pulitzer Winning Author of "The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love". One of my proudest college moments occurred when I earned the much coveted, but rarely given, "A" for my final grade from Mr. Hijuelos. I have written 3 self-published romance novels so far with a 4th novel to be released soon. I enjoy writing romantic stories that feature a strong female lead, friendships and an uplifting message.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

It is a travesty for society to think that a young woman of marriageable age can be considered property by her parents to be used to further their own selfish pursuits. This was the thought that filled Lena Elmhurst’s mind as she sat in the dusty office one morning in May, listening to a solicitor tell her that her future was about to change drastically.

Now see here, Miss Elmhurst. The elderly lawyer fixed her with a stern look. Your father arranged for you to be married when you reached the age of twenty. You are to reach that age in seven months, are you not?

Lena averted her gaze from the man’s piercing glare. She focused instead on the ivy pattern of the wallpaper behind his desk. She traced the climbing green vines with her eyes, counting the number of leaves in each cluster that branched off of the vines.

Miss Elmhurst, Mr. Crandall said louder, interrupting her mid-count. Are you even listening to me?

Lena stared blankly at the man’s moving lips, but he might as well have been speaking a foreign language, for she couldn’t comprehend a word that he was saying. Her stomach churned and a roaring sound filled her ears. This could not be happening to her. There must be some mistake, she said faintly.

I’m afraid not. I have here a copy of the contract signed by your father and by my client, Mr. Billingsworth. The contract decrees that you are to be wed to him on your twentieth birthday.

Lena was thankful she was seated, for her legs were trembling and she doubted they would have been able to support her had she been standing. She fought back the tears that threatened to spill. This was no time to get emotional. She had to remain strong. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin defiantly. Why did my father not tell me of this himself?

Mr. Crandall’s stern gaze softened. It was my understanding that your father was going to explain everything when he wrote to you last month.

He did not. Lena swallowed past the lump in her throat, the ache in her stomach growing sharper. This is the first time I’m hearing of any such arrangement.

The elderly man sighed heavily. He removed his tortoise shell spectacles and pinched the bridge of his long, thin nose. I was afraid of that, he muttered as he replaced his glasses and peered at her intently. So you know nothing of how and why this arrangement was made?

I most certainly do not, Lena replied stoutly. My father never once mentioned any type of marriage contract he had in place for me. In the last letter I received from him, he told me that he was making arrangements for me to join him in California, once my schooling is completed.

Miss Elmhurst, the lawyer said gently. How much do you know about your father and his financial situation?

Why was he asking such an odd and personal question? Lena wondered as she stared at the man. I know he’s been doing very well out west, prospecting for gold. He told me that he’d found several gold nuggets and that he was a wealthy man because of it, she said proudly. At least well enough to pay my tuition every year and to buy me a new frock or two when needed. He’s always included a modest allowance each month, too.

That is true, Mr. Crandall nodded sagely. He was doing well and had found the gold nuggets as he mentioned. However, what he failed to disclose to you was that he squandered most of his wealth in the gambling saloons out west. As of last August, your father has been heavily in debt and is virtually bankrupt.

Lena gasped, the color fleeing her face once again. The room tilted and she gripped the wooden handles of the straight-back chair she sat in. She closed her eyes briefly and when she reopened them, Mr. Crandall was looking at her, concern etched in his lined face.

Are you okay, Miss Elmhurst?

No, I’m not! Lena wanted to shout. She wanted to rip the navy bow tie off of the man’s neck and stuff it into his mouth. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. It was no use getting angry at the lawyer. He was only doing his job after all and did not deserve to have her anger directed at him.

H-how can…? She stopped to rub her temples that had started to throb just as the pain in her stomach was beginning to subside. How can my father be bankrupt? He told me that he’d put aside enough money to buy a plot of land so that he could build a house for us. Plus, he’s been paying my school fees on time and has not stopped sending my monthly stipend.

Mr. Crandall gave her a sympathetic look as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the mahogany desk. My dear, whatever money your father had been saving for your land and house is gone, he said gently. Apparently, he had a run of bad luck at cards and kept hoping to turn his luck around by gambling even more. He’s been borrowing money from my client and, as he is unable to pay it back, another form of payment had to be made. He paused to clear his throat. Since Mr. Billingsworth is need of a wife and would like to start a family, he—

He chose to marry me off to settle his debt, Lena interjected dully. Hot tears pricked her eyes again, but she blinked them away rapidly. She refused to cry or to show the devastation she felt. My own father has practically sold me, like human chattel, to some man I’ve never even met.

You will be meeting him soon enough, my dear. Mr. Billingsworth has business in town in a fortnight, and he will be sending a carriage to pick you up from school on the Saturday he arrives. You are to dine with him at the hotel he’ll be staying.

At Lena’s startled look, the lawyer quickly added, I will be present at the dinner to make the introductions and to make sure all the necessary paperwork is signed. A small wedding ceremony is arranged for the Sunday after your birthday. Your father has given me permission to stand in on his behalf. After which, you will accompany my client to Wichita as the new Mrs. Billingsworth.

But my leaving ceremony is in three weeks. My father promised he would be here, and I would be leaving with him afterward. Her voice rose in wail. Where am I supposed to live once I leave school?

Mr. Billingsworth has arranged lodging for you at a boarding house for women here in town. The lawyer reached out to pat her hand, but Lena snatched it away angrily. He would like to start a courtship as soon as possible and will be calling on you every week.

The buzzing in Lena’s ears grew louder. The dizziness returned, and she tried to focus on Mr. Crandall’s face, but it seemed to be moving farther and farther from her. She didn’t remember passing out, but she must have, because when she opened her eyes, it was to find a woman’s apple-cheeked face hovering over hers and a small vial of smelling salts pressed under her nose.

My dear, you gave us quite a scare, the woman said softly as she brushed a loose curl from Lena’s damp face. Hank, this poor child has had enough dumped on her for today. She held Lena by the shoulders and pulled her up gently until she was no longer slumped in the chair.

Are you okay, Miss Elmhurst? Mr. Crandall’s anxious face appeared next to the woman’s. Pardon me, I didn’t mean to cause you such distress. My wife here is always scolding me for not choosing a more humanitarian profession. He gave a rueful smile. She forgets that sometimes practicing law can help those in need.

I told him not to take this particular case. Mrs. Crandall rebuked her husband with a scathing look. I warned him that it was rather unpleasant all the way around. She paused to hand Lena a small glass. Here, my dear … take this.

Lena’s hand shook as she took the glass from the woman. What’s this? she managed to croak feebly as she glanced at the amber liquid in the glass.

Just a pinch of whiskey, the kind woman answered briskly. The smelling salts revived your spirits, but this here will put the color back into your cheeks.

Lena raised the glass hesitantly to her lips. She’d never had whiskey before. In fact, the only time she’d had spirits of any kind was the time when her best friend, Daphne, had stolen a small jug of her parent’s homemade cherry wine and smuggled it into their dorm after Christmas break last year. Camille, her other best friend, had suggested adding water to it so that they could share it with all the other girls on their dormitory floor. It had tasted like watered-down cough syrup to Lena, but they’d had fun that night, toasting each other and pretending to be grown-up.

It’s okay, child. Mrs. Crandall gave her an encouraging smile. Just a sip will make you feel better.

Lena took a tentative sip. The liquid traveled down her dry throat leaving a trail of warmth before settling in her stomach. She took another longer sip before handing the glass back to the lawyer’s wife. Thank you, she said. I am starting to feel much better.

I can see the bloom creeping back into your cheeks, Mrs. Crandall beamed. I will take my leave now so that you two can finish your meeting. She wagged a finger at her husband. Now Hank, you make sure that you don’t cause this poor girl to faint again.

We’re just about finished up here, my dear. Mr. Crandall had the grace to look chagrined. I will wrap things up shortly.

Do you have a photograph of this man that I’m to marry? Lena asked, after Mrs. Crandall had left, taking the bottle of whiskey with her.

Mr. Crandall nodded as he retrieved an envelope from his desk. Are you sure that you want to continue with this today? A frown furrowed his bushy eyebrows. We can meet again tomorrow when you’re feeling better.

We might as well get it over with now, Lena said firmly. How much worse could it get?

She soon realized that it could get much worse indeed when she pulled the photograph from the envelope. The sepia image that stared up at her was of a stern looking face, with a neatly trimmed beard and a handlebar mustache. Her heart sank as she gazed at the receding hairline and ears that stuck out slightly. Mr. Billingsworth wasn’t ugly by any means; in fact, he appeared quite respectable looking, but it was clear to see he was old. She gauged his age to be somewhere in his late forties or early fifties.

Why, he looks to be about as old as my father, she squeaked, mortified.

Mr. Crandall retrieved the photo from her limp fingers and returned to his chair. Granted, Mr. Billingsworth is considerably older than you are, he said with an apologetic smile. But he is a very wealthy man, and you would want for nothing as his wife. Your father took that fact into consideration when he made the agreement.

My, how very thoughtful of him, Lena’s tone dripped with sarcasm. Seeing as how I am to sacrifice my youth to save his hide.

I know that this arrangement may seem rather shocking and distasteful to a young pretty woman like yourself, but I can assure you that my client is not a cruel man, Mr. Crandall reassured her. You will find that he is actually a rather fair and just man. He could have handled your father’s debt in a less forgiving way, but he chose a more agreeable option. Since he’s never been married, he is hoping to have an heir that he can leave his vast fortune to someday.

Lena wrinkled her pert nose in disgust. So it’s my womb that he’s after, she laughed bitterly. Goodness gracious, the surprises sure keep coming. She stood up abruptly, gathering her gloves and reticule hastily from the side table. She was close to tears and didn’t want to risk shedding them in front of the lawyer. If this is the last of your bombshells, Mr. Crandall, I think that I will take my leave now.

Yes … yes, of course. The elderly man rose to his feet and scooted around the desk to help her into her coat. The meeting is adjourned. I am deeply sorry for being the bearer of such unwelcome news, Miss Elmhurst. If there is any way I can be of service, do let me know.

I don’t believe that there’s much you can do for me, Lena said glumly. It appears that my goose is thoroughly cooked. She marched briskly towards the door, pausing briefly to shake the hand that Mr. Crandall held out to her. If I ever see my father again, I will be sure to give him a piece of my mind. With that parting shot, she flounced out of the office, leaving a chastened looking Mr. Crandall behind.

CHAPTER TWO

On the carriage ride back to school, Lena allowed the tears to flow freely. How could her father betray her like this? She swiped angrily at her wet cheeks with the back of a gloved hand. Her father hadn’t visited her for almost three years. Since enrolling her in the prestigious Wilshire Academy School for Young Ladies, his visits had been sporadic at best, and the fact that she’d had to learn about his plans from a lawyer was another painful reminder of his neglect.

She sighed as she thought about her mother, the familiar longing gnawing at her. They’d been a happy family until her mother’s untimely death from scarlet fever when Lena was only seven years old. Her father had tried to be both mother and father to her for a full year, but it soon became apparent that he was failing miserably. His moods grew darker and restlessness overtook him. Then one morning when reading the newspaper, an article about something called The California Gold Rush had caught his eye, and he’d become so excited that his excitement had spread to her.

He'd told her then of his need to find a new path and had filled her head with visions of the life of luxury they would have once he struck it rich out west. She remembered jumping up and down in excitement when he promised to buy her a pony as soon as he found his first gold nugget. Then he’d pulled the rug out from under her by telling her that she could not go with him and that she was to attend a boarding school in Omaha instead.

The memories were painful, and she experienced a renewed sense of hurt when she remembered how she’d clung to his leg and sobbed, begging him not to send her away. But he’d remained steadfast, telling her that it was what her mother had wanted, and that he was only sending her away two years earlier than they had planned. Within six months, he had sold all of their valuables, sent her off to school, and boarded a train to California with a group of men he referred to as prospectors.

The first year following his departure, he’d been true to his word and a beautiful chestnut pony with a long golden mane and a thick shiny tail had been delivered to the school on her ninth birthday. It had been love at first sight for her, and she’d named the pony Bessie, the gift helping to soften the blow of what her nine-year-old self had perceived to be his abandonment of her. Each year after that, a generous or thoughtful present was delivered on her birthday, but Lena would’ve given anything to have her father there with her instead.

This year he had promised her a new house for her birthday, one that he was building himself, and she had believed him. She laughed bitterly at how gullible and clueless she’d been, never once questioning him about any of it. She had wanted to believe in her father, to hold on to the hope that she would be reunited with him once her schooling was over. But now she knew the truth … her father no longer had the means to fund his promise even if he wanted to, and that he’d used her as a bargaining chip. The shame of it caused the bile to rise in her throat and she swallowed hard to force it back down.

When she entered the brightly polished hallway of Wilshire Academy, it was almost dinnertime. She could hear the clatter of footsteps overhead as the Year Six girls left their dorm rooms. She had hoped to slip unnoticed back into her own room while the girls were in the dining hall, but she’d been too upset to pay attention to the time.

Lena, you’re back, a pair of cheerful voices chorused. She glanced up to see her best friends, Daphne and Camille, descending the curved staircase, arm in arm.

So how did your meeting with the lawyer go? Daphne, a tall, pretty red head asked as soon as they reached Lena, each girl flanking her side.

Is your father sending for you, or are you going out west to meet him? Camille, a dark-haired beauty, chimed in.

Lena shook her head mutely. She tried to speak, but the words seemed to be lodged in her throat.

What’s the matter, Lena? Daphne gave her a searching look. You’re awfully pale. Are you feeling ill?

Camille draped an arm across her friend’s shoulder. Did you get bad news? Is your father okay?

I-it’s b-been an awful day, Lena finally managed to whisper as she gently disengaged Camille’s arm from her shoulder. I think I’ll skip supper. I’m not hungry, she added with an apologetic smile. Before either of her friends could object, she pushed through the throng of girls streaming around them and ran up the steep flight of steps to her room.

Later, when she heard the door to her dorm room creak on its hinges and her best friends’ hushed voices, Lena closed her eyes tightly and pretended to be asleep. She’d already changed into her night clothes and had spent the last hour crying into her pillow. Her head throbbed, and she didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that her eyes were puffy and swollen.

She’s asleep, she heard Daphne whisper to Camille. Let’s not wake her.

We can finish working on the quilt in the common room, Camille whispered back. She can join us later if she wants to.

Lena was grateful to her best friends for their understanding. They were two of the kindest girls she’d ever met, and she would miss them dearly once school ended. She replayed the meeting with Mr. Crandall over and over in her head, each time growing angrier and angrier as she thought about her father. How could he pawn her off like that? She was not some simpleton who would be content with an arranged marriage. How dare he rob her of her future? It was his own weaknesses and bad decisions that had gotten him into the mess he was in. Why should she be the one to pay the price?

Disappointment replaced anger, and she felt a deep sadness overwhelm her as she realized that her father was no more than a weak and foolish miscreant. Her eyelids drooped and curling into a ball under the covers, she welcomed the respite from her swirling thoughts that sleep offered.

She woke just before dawn the next morning and lay in the darkness listening to the soft patter of raindrops hitting the windowsill. She didn’t want to get out of bed and considered feigning an illness but knew she couldn’t put off facing her friends much longer. Maybe if she told the girls about her predicament, they would be able to help her to come up with a plan to get out of it.

She was fully dressed a half hour later when a soft knock sounded on her bedroom door, followed by a whispered, Lena, are you awake?

The sight of Daphne and Camille standing in the hallway, concern etched on both of their pretty faces, cheered her instantly. You’re both up rather early, she said, holding the door wide open.

We were so worried about you, Camille proclaimed as she plopped down on Lena’s bed. Are you okay?

I’m feeling a lot better today, thank you, she replied with a stiff smile. Sorry for ditching you yesterday, but I’d gotten some rather upsetting news.

My poor dear. Daphne took Lena’s hands and clasped them tightly in her own. Do you want to talk about it? We still have an hour before the breakfast bell rings.

Lena sank into the armchair next to her bed while Daphne took a seat next to Camille. Yesterday, I had my world turn upside-down, she began. She told them everything, choosing not to gloss over any of it … her anger and disappointment at her father, her fear that she would have no choice but to be a dutiful daughter and to accept her fate.

Both girls listened in rapt silence, emitting gasps of disbelief when she told them about her father’s agreement and were suitably indignant when she described Mr. Billingsworth.

Lena, you cannot marry that old man! Camille retorted fiercely. Your father must have been out of his mind when he made that horrible agreement.

He is in a pretty desperate situation, from what Mr. Crandall tells me.

Daphne stood up and paced the room. We cannot allow this to happen. A beautiful young girl like you should not be forced to marry some old coot.

I’m afraid it happens quite often, Lena said morosely. According to the lawyer, young women all over are forced into marriages for various reasons, most of them financial. Unfortunately, I have now become one of those very women.

Pauvre chèri, Camille whispered sadly in her native French. What can we do to help you?

I don’t think that there’s anything you can do, Lena answered, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

The girls fell silent, each assessing the seriousness of Lena’s situation. The breakfast bell sounded, and they rose reluctantly. We’ll help you think of something, Daphne said brightly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. There’s gotta to be a way out of this mess for you.

CHAPTER THREE

The answer to Lena’s predicament came in a rather unexpected way. That week it rained every day, the steady down fall causing her spirits to dampen even more. Daphne and Camille tried their best to cheer her up, but to no avail. The three girls brainstormed every evening after supper, trying to come up with a plan, but could think of nothing that would help Lena. When she woke on Saturday morning, she was relieved to see that the rain had finally stopped. She pulled the curtains aside and