CHAPTER3
On a bright sunny day in June, the month of weddings, two stagecoaches pulled into Treasure Falls, Montana, filled with women.
Since they had landed at the fort, Mary had been in awe of the majesty of the mountains, the way the pine trees reached up to the sky, and the howling of the coyotes as they all slept near the fire on the ground.
Daisy had been terrified the wild animals were going to get them, but Mary loved the way their cries seemed to reach into her soul and release the pain of hurt that lived there. It was like they understood her sorrow and she felt as if they were singing her song of sadness.
The stage had been rough as they traveled the last week, bouncing all over the place. The roads curving around the sharp edges of mountains and the stage clinging to the narrow lane had the women terrified.
This beautiful piece of paradise was the opposite world from where she came from. There were no big cities. No listening to the lonesome sound of the train as it left the station. No smell of salt water filled the air.
No echoes of horses’ hooves or wheels on the cobbled streets. This was a new life.
A place of stunning scenery that was both dangerous and deadly. The nights were cool and brisk, not like the sultry humidity of the south.
As the stage rolled down Main Street, she noted the little mining town held a bank, mercantile, restaurant, and a saloon. There were several other buildings, but no more than eight structures lined the street. It almost looked deserted. No wonder the town of Treasure Falls needed women.
Dear God, what had they gotten themselves into?
Daisy glanced at her. “No hotel? Where will we stay?”
Both women had been nervous these last few miles, holding each other’s hands as they prepared to face the next chapter in their lives. Praying it would be a happy one.
“I don’t know. Look, there is a group of people standing in front of a building. Oh, dear, it’s the men.”
The two women turned and grabbed each other, giving a hug, not knowing what the future held. Over the last three months, they had become the closest of friends, but neither one talked of the past. Only the future.
“We’ll always be friends,” Daisy said.
“Yes, always. No matter what happens,” Mary said.
The two other women in their stage were all but hanging out the windows. Blanche Underwood and Rose Patton. The other four women were in the stage behind them.
The stage stopped with a loud cheer from the crowd.
“This is it,” Mary said, her stomach tied in knots, her chest aching as she thought about the future and prayed she could keep the past in Charleston.
“Oh, look how handsome the men are,” Blanche said. “We’re getting married.”
The stagecoach driver opened the door. “Ladies, you have arrived.”
Earlier, they had thrown dice to see who would alight first and in what order. Fortunately, or not, she didn’t know yet, it was Mary’s lucky day, and with a deep breath, she took the stagecoach driver’s hand and stepped from the carriage.
Her new life had begun.