Copyright (c) 2007 Briar Larkson
Gabriel’s Mountain
November 16th 1874
What had she done? Mara Flannagan sighed as she watched the cold, wet, uninviting country-side fly by the window of the stagecoach. Very soon now, she would be in Seattle. Her husband to be would be waiting for her. Even after months of writing back and forth to each other. Even after the long trip on the train from New York City to Tacoma Washington, she still had no idea how she could have agreed to travel across the country to marry a stranger.
Glancing over at her sleeping sisters, tears stung Mara’s eyes. They were the reason she was doing this. She had to keep them all together. She had given her word.
Closing her eyes and resting her head back against the rough wood of the stage, Mara thought back to the day six months ago when her feet were set on this path.
The stones of the orphanage wall had felt damp and chilly as Mara pressed herself against them in an attempt to get close enough to see and hear what was going on without being seen herself.
“It’s that Flannagan girl again Mother Superior! The good Lord knows I have tried to have patience with her. Do you know what she has done now?”
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 2
Sister Mary Elizabeth looked up over her horn-rimmed glasses and took a deep breath as she set down her book. “Do tell Sister Euphrosyne. Whatever has the child done this time?”
Sister Euphrosyne paced the small chamber, wringing her hands. “What has she done this time? What has she not done? Supper was ruined. All the girl was asked to do was watch over the evening stew and stir it once in awhile. That was her only responsibility. And do you for one moment believe she could accomplish such a simple task?”
Sister Mary Elizabeth took off her glasses and began rubbing her forehead where a dull ache was radiating from front to back. “Do get to the point Sister. It is late, and has been a very long day.”
A look of irritation flashed across Sister Euphrosyne’s pudgy face for just a moment before continuing on her tirade. “She let it burn! That is exactly what she did. It’s not the first time you know? The girl has her head in the clouds. Thinks she’s above work, she does. I just don’t know what to do about her anymore. Almost eighteen she is and not a skill to be had. I’ve tried to teach her. The good Lord knows I have. That one will never find a position. What decorous family would take on the likes of her? And that head of hair. Why she looks like Satin himself marked her.”
Sister Euphrosyne stopped and crossed her more than ample bosom before continuing. “And those dear sweet sisters of hers’. What is to become of them with the likes of her in charge of their very lives? Why they won’t have a chance in the world. A bad seed that one, I tell you.”
Her energy spent, Sister Euphrosyne sat down heavily in the chair before Mother Superior.
Tears fell in silent paths, and her head hung a little lower. Mara knew deep in her heart that the sister was right. She was a daydreamer and had no real skills to speak of. What she did have though, was the promise she had given her dying mother. She would do whatever she had to do to take care of her two sisters and to keep them all together. Or she would die trying.
The sound of Mother Superior’s voice brought Mara back to attention.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 3
“I wish I had an easy answer for you Sister. The girl’s heart is in the right place, she can’t help some of her problems as you well know. There are things about her past it isn’t my place to discuss. Let’s just say, It is my judgment that she may never come to the point of being able to take over the care of her sisters. I don’t believe for a minute though that Satin marked her, and shame on you for such nonsense.”
“After much prayer and deliberation over the last few months, I have come to a difficult decision. Mara turns eighteen this year. At that time she must leave our care and make her own way in the world. After she is gone, I intend to place her sisters on the dear Reverend Brace’s Orphan Train, and find the sweet little girls a good stable home.”
Mara couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped her throat, and her mind screamed no! She couldn’t let that happen. What was she going to do? She had to think. She had to plan. Where would they go? How would she take care of ten-year-old Bethany and four-year-old Emma? How would she even take care of herself?
Sister Euphrosyne might be correct about her, but that wasn’t the issue right now. She knew she had to find a way to make a life for them somehow, somewhere. Mara heard the two women saying goodnight, and did the only thing she could think to do. She ran
Blind with grief and fear, Mara wasn’t watching where she was going. Her only thought, escape from the words still ringing in her ears. It was the wooden barrel sitting on the side of the entrance hall that stopped her progress. Her hands flew out to stop her forward motion, but to no avail. Mara Flannagan and the barrel went tumbling together. With an, “Ummf,” she landed hard on her backside.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 4
The tears fell freely now. Mara raised her head and glanced around the entrance of what had once been a beautiful cathedral. Now it was an orphanage and small parish, which had been home to her and her sisters for the past two years. She cried for the father who had been lost to them when a coal mining accident had claimed his life almost five years ago. He had never even gotten to see little Emma, who had his same strawberry-blonde hair and intense dark blue eyes. She cried for her mother, who had died when their shanty home burned. She cried for her sisters, who had been cheated by fate of the love and protection of their parents. And she cried for herself, hating feeling so alone and helpless.
Mara tried not to think back to the fire that had taken the life of her mother. Like always, her head began throbbing painfully. She could feel the bile rising up her throat and for a moment feared she would be violently ill. Taking large gulps of air deep into her lungs, she closed her eyes tightly, and images formed in her mind.
Mara shook her head trying desperately to not see the scene playing out before her eyes. The room filling with smoke. Dragging Bethany from the room and out the door into the cold winter air of early morning. Running back inside, grabbing Emma from her mother’s arms, as her mother coughing, fell to her knees. The pain, the horrible pain as she realized her nightdress was in flames. How had she put the fire out on her nightdress? She couldn’t remember. All she could remember was handing baby Emma to Bethany and trying to get back to her mother. Strong arms seemingly from out of nowhere stopped her. She couldn’t even remember who had pulled her mother from the burning shack. All she could remember was her mother’s struggled words whispered with her last breath.
“Take care of them for me Mara. Promise me!” Then she had died.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 5
Standing and brushing off the dust, Mara mentally shook herself. What good did it do to think about the past? It didn’t. There was nothing she could do to change anything that had happened. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin a notch, Mara determined to concentrate on the problems of the moment.
Reaching down to right the barrel she had inadvertently knocked over, she gasped. Could the answer to all of her problems be right in front of her? How many times had she walked past this plain brown barrel with the faded sign tacked on it’s outside. It had stood in the same spot for over a year now, and she had not given it a second thought? Reaching inside, she pulled out a single yellowed envelope. Looking both ways then slipping it inside the pocket of her gray uniform smock, Mara headed to the small room she shared with her sisters.
After checking to make sure her sisters were sleeping soundly, with shaking fingers, Mara pulled the worn looking envelope from her pocket and set at the small desk in the corner of the room. Carefully she opened it and pulled out the single sheet of brown paper that had once probably been used to wrap dry goods. Taking a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and squinting in the candlelight, she began to read.
Don’t really know what to say in a letter like this. A friend of mine says this is what I should do. My name is Gabriel Burnett, and I’m looking for a wife. Don’t have to be young or pretty, just strong and sturdy. Matter of fact, I need a woman not a girl. I live on top of a mountain right outside of Seattle, and I’m logging it. Got me a little cabin up here, but not many frills. I’m twenty-six years old and strong as a bull so I can provide for you. Life up here can be hard. I’m looking for a woman who can work side by side with me and make a family. If’n you have children, I hope they are boys to help with the work. Not much use for skirts running around up here. I’m looking for a woman who is a good hand at cooking and cleaning. I am an honest, plain speaking, God fearing, hard working man. I don’t have a lot, but I’m willing to share what I have and make a life with a good woman.
Gabriel Burnett
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 6
Gabriel Burnett’s hand shook as he tried to balance the small mirror and the razor at the same time. Today, she was going to be here today. He wanted to whistle. He wanted to sing. He wanted to jump up and down and dance a jig. Miss Mara Flannagan was going to marry him this very day.
“Ouch, damn it.”
Glancing at his reflection Gabriel cringed. Another spot oozed bright red. There was no helping it. He was going to have to get Slalal to give him a hand.
Just then the cabin door opened and in walked the man Gabriel had been thinking about
Slalal took one look at Gabriel and laughed. “Think I better shave you before you bleed yourself to death, Gabe.”
Gabriel handed over the razor to his friend, set down on the stool, and presented his face.
He would trust Slalal with his very life, and had many times. Slalal was a full blooded Duwamish Indian, one of The People of the Inside. He had been his father’s best friend and partner. It had been only the two of then on this mountain for five years now.
It had even been Slalal who had convinced Gabriel to send for a mail-order bride. How many nights had Gabe listened to the stories Slalal had told him about the 1864 bride ship that old Asa Shinn Mercer had brought here. Now he was going to have a bride of his very own.
It had been so lonely up here on the mountain since his father had died. The good lord knew he wasn’t much welcome down in the city. The residents of Seattle were still split down the middle when it came to believing if Gabriel had killed his father.
The same anger he felt whenever he thought about what happened after his father’s death came rushing back as it always did whenever he remembered those days.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 7
It had been an accident, Gabriel was sure of it. He found his father that day under a tree recently felled. A crusty old logger like Jacob Barnett certainly knew how to get out of the way of a tree he was cutting down, but it only takes a split second mistake to end a life. No one else had been anywhere close. It had to have been an accident. Everyone liked Jacob. No-one would want him dead.
That wasn’t the way Rupert Therman Jennings, the biggest logger in town, saw it though. He had openly accused Gabriel of killing his own father for the land. He had convinced half the city to his way of thinking also. Gabriel knew he had barely missed a hangman’s noose. Thankfully, the jury couldn’t bring themselves to believe he could kill his father. It still hung over his head though. He could see the doubt and questions in the eyes of people he passed on the street when he came down his mountain into the city.
Gabriel didn’t go into town unless he had no choice. Today was different though. Today he looked forward to the trip. Even the cloud covered sky and cold piercing rain couldn’t dampen his spirit. His life was turning around.
Yes, he was one lucky man. Today the best woman in the whole world was going to be right here in this cabin and she was going to be his wife. What more could he have asked for, then a mature widow woman his age. She had been raised on a farm to boot, and was use to being isolated for long periods of time. Cooking, the woman made his mouth water when she wrote about her cooking. Her letters had filled his heart with hope for the first time in a very long time. Yes good fortune had finally smiled down on him.
With Slalal by his side on the wagon, down the long track into town they headed. With any luck, they would have time to pick up needed supplies before meeting the stage. Then a quick trip to the church, and back up the hill. If they started for home early enough, maybe Gabriel would get a sample of that fine cooking this very night.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 8
It wasn’t New York City, that’s for sure. Mara frowned at the mainly clapboard buildings she passed. The roads were muddy and few sidewalks could be seen. Everything seemed to be gray. The sky, the buildings, the ground, even the clothing worn by the people going here and there. It was acceptable, it matched her mood.
Leaning over she shook Bethany awake. “We are almost there, straiten yourself, while I wake Emma and make her presentable.”
Bethany yawned. “I’m hungry Mara. Do we have anything left?”
Mara cringed, and her own stomach growled at the thought of food. Money had been so very tight on the trip. Mr. Burnett had sent train fare and money for food for one person. That was all he knew about. With what he had sent, and saved pennies from as many small jobs as she could find these last months, they had made the fare for all three and ate lean, but they had eaten.
Mara herself hadn’t eaten for two days now. They were so very close to their destination, and what little had been left she had split between her sisters. Still she felt like a failure when she faced Bethany.
“It’s all gone. I gave the last of the bread and apples to you and Emma this morning. We will be at the station very soon now, and I’m sure Mr. Burnett will be most anxious to see us to his home and feed us.”
They were both so very trusting. For not the first time in the last couple of weeks Mara wondered if she was doing the right thing. What would she do if Mr. Burnett turned them away when he realized that she had told him a few innocent little white lies? Straightening her shoulders and stiffening her spine, Mara resolved that she would not let that happen. Gabriel Burnett had sent for her, he had agreed to marry her, and he wasn’t going to get out of it.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 9
Gabriel wasn’t any too happy. What had started out as such a wonderful day had certainly gone to hell fast. The wagon had lost a wheel on the way down the hill and that took over an hour to fix. Schwabacher’s general store could only fill a little over half his order, which meant another trip down the hill next week, and no flour for hot biscuits till then.
He stood waiting impatiently for the stage which was now almost an hour late. To make matters worse, Rupert Jennings was waiting for someone himself. The man kept staring daggers into Gabriel’s back, and making comments about how he felt sorry for any woman who would marry Gabriel Burnett, and how a mail-order bride was probably the only way he could get a wife. How had the man found out about his bride anyway? Gabriel tried his best to ignore him. The last thing he needed today was to be thrown into jail for really killing someone.
The stagecoach rounded the corner and splashed its’ way to a stop in front of those waiting. The driver hopped down from his seat and opened the door. Three children practically jumped out followed by the most beautiful woman Gabriel had ever seen.
She was perfection. From her smart sky blue hat with matching feather, to her fine kid boots. Hair the color of a wheat field. Eyes so deep a blue they resembled the ocean and twinkled with humor. Lips ripe as summer berries and begging to be kissed. A figure a man could get lost in for days. This had to be Mara Flannagan, and she was looking right at him and smiling a saucy, sensual smile.
From somewhere behind him, Gabriel heard the voice of the man he hated.
“Olivia my dear, it is so good to see you. How was your trip sweetling?”
The perfection turned and sauntered over to the obnoxious man and took his hand. “Uncle Rupert,” a voice straight from heaven sang.
No, it couldn’t be. Not Rupert’s niece. If the beauty wasn’t Mara Flannagan, then who was?
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 10
Gabriel looked around confused. There were no other passengers. Had he made a mistake on the date? He couldn’t have, could he? Just then a voice interrupted his thought.
“Mr. Burnett?”
Gabriel looked down. Three females of different sizes stood in front of him. They were soggy appearing from the continuing drizzle, and it seemed the biggest one with the strange wild curly bright red hair was speaking to him.
“Mr. Burnett?”
Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. A look of understanding and horror came over his face. This couldn’t be Mara Flannagan, could it? Not this skinny young woman with strange green eyes too big for her face, and freckles still across her nose.
“Mr. Burnett, are you alright?”
Gabriel’s voice sounded horse even to his own ears when he answered. “Miss Flannagan?”
Mara took a deep breath and tried to relax. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Gabriel Burnett though. Tall, oh my, he was tall. Her neck was beginning to feel the strain of looking up at him. And handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Hair as black as a moonless night, and eyes the color of an angry sea, an intriguing combination of blue and green. Shoulders so wide they blocked the sun, and hands as large as hat boxes.
It took a moment to realize he had spoken to her, and when it registered, she suddenly felt tongue tied. “Yes, yes I am Ma… Ma… Mara Flannagan. I am most happy to meet you.” She tugged on her sisters arms and pulled then in front of her. “And these are my sisters Bethany and Emma.”
Sisters? Not once in any of her letters had she said one word about sisters. And a widow? This girl couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen at the most. Had every word she had written to him been a lie?
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 11
The sound of Rupert Jennings voice rose over the entire crowd. “So that’s your new bride Gabriel? Looks like you had to rob the school room to find one. Is she even out of nappies yet?”
The entire group of people standing around began to chuckle.
Gabriel didn’t see anything funny about it. He felt the heat creeping up his neck and the anger rising. He tasted bile in his throat. He had been duped, lied too, taken advantage of, and by a slip of a girl. He wanted to yell at her, he wanted to put her back on the stage with the two little ones and send them all away. He couldn’t, Rupert Jennings was standing right behind him and listening to every word and snickering. He would be damned before he gave the man anything else to gossip about.
What was he going to do? He did the only thing that came to mind. Turning to Slalal he said, “Take the little girls on down to the church for me please. Miss Flannagan and I have some things to discuss. We will be right along.”
Mara stared at the strange looking man Mr. Burnett had been speaking too. She had never seen a real live Indian up close before, let alone allow one to walk off with her sisters. It just wasn’t acceptable.
“I’m very sorry Mr. Burnett, but I prefer my sisters to remain with me.”
The man completely ignored her and lifted Emma up and put her right into the Indians arms. Instead of being frightened like Mara was sure she would be, Emma giggled and laid her head right on the man’s shoulder. Bethany followed without a single comment.
Mara was about to protest again when Gabriel grabbed her elbow. She tried to twist it out of his hold, but he clamped down harder.
Leaning down and whispering into her ear, Gabriel hissed. “Do not make a scene here Miss Flannagan, or trust me when I say you will dearly regret it. Follow me quietly, now.”
Mara reluctantly did as she was told.
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 12
It was hard to keep up. It took three of her steps to make one of his. Mara did her best though. It was that or be drug along, and she had no doubt in her mind that he would drag her if she didn’t keep up. Down one street and up another. Around one corner, past two buildings then another corner. Mud splashed up the hem of her dress. Her shoes were soaked and she was cold. Still he didn’t stop. Not until the plain white building with the small steeple on the top came into view.
Mara thought they would be going inside. She looked forward to the warmth. She was wrong. He turned right past the door and headed behind the church. Finally under a leafless tree he stopped.
“You have some explaining to do.” Gabriel growled.
Mara was shaking, she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear of the man. She took deep long breaths trying to decide how to start. It wasn’t fast enough for him.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself? Why didn’t you tell me about your sisters? Why did you say you were a widow? I’ll eat my hat if you are a widow. Was everything you wrote a lie? Speak up girl.”
She wanted to cry. She was so cold, so tired, so hungry. She wouldn’t give this bully the satisfaction though. Mara Flannagan was made of sterner stuff and remembered what her father had always told her. “If ya stand tall and don’t let them see ya cry lassie then you can face anything and still have ya pride.”
She swallowed her tears, straightened to her full five foot three and a half inches, composed herself, and looked Gabriel Burnett in the eye
“I had to get my sisters away from the orphanage, they were going to be put on an orphan train and I would have never seen them again . I had to keep my promise to my dying mother. Yes I lied to you, but I will do my best to make you a good wife. If you will still have me that is, and if you wont, then I’ll make my own way somehow.”
Larkson/Gabriel’s Mountain 13
He wasn’t sure what he had expected the girl to say, but it wasn’t that. She looked like a helpless drowning little rat standing there, and Gabriel was tempted for just a moment to tell her that. The sheen of tears in her eyes stopped him. What was it with women? They seemed to be able to turn on and off those tears at a whim. Well he wasn’t going to fall for it, not him, no sir.
“Are you really a widow?”
Mara gulped, and her voice sounded like a croak. “No.”
Where you really raised on a farm?”
Mara looked down at her feet wishing a hole to fall into would magically appear. She wrapped her thin wet coat a little tighter around herself. “No, I was born and raised in New York City and have never been anywhere else till this trip west. I know nothing about farming.”
Gabriel was shaking with anger and it sounded in his voice. “Do you at least know how to cook?”
Mara twisted her hands together and shook her head no. “Not really, a little I suppose.”
He was about to shout the trees drown when the back door of the church flew open and two little girls ran toward them. The bigger one with long dark brown hair kicked him squarely in the shin.
“You leave our sister alone,” she shouted. “You better not hurt her.”
Then all three began to cry.
Gabriel didn’t know what to do. He began to pace back and worth. The two smallest girls were yowling loudly. The dripping red headed Mara Flannagan was trying to comfort them. Slalal was standing with his hands on his hips and looking at him like he was ashamed to know him. What was he suppose to do? He certainly didn’t want to marry her. He sure didn’t want her sisters under foot on his mountain, and more mouths to feed. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be.
He couldn’t send them back to New York though. It had taken every spare coin he had to get her out here. Was that his problem? After all, it wasn’t him who had lied. But then if he didn’t marry her and she couldn’t go back, what would happen to them? There weren’t many jobs in town for a woman.
Larson/Gabriel’s Mountain 14
In his mind, Gabriel could envision Mara with rouge on her cheeks, her lips painted red and dressed in one of the outfits Miss Lilly liked to deck her girls out in. He couldn’t do that to them. Even if she had told a hundred lies he couldn’t do that and live with himself. He did the only thing he could do.
Grabbing Mara’s arm, Gabriel headed for the church door.
She dug in her heels. “Wha, what are you doing?”
“We are getting hitched,” was all he said.
Mara was stunned, she was in shock, she followed as if in a trance.
The whole ceremony took but a few minutes and Mara couldn’t remember a word the preacher had said to her. She hadn’t even felt the almost non existent peck Gabriel had given her when the preacher had said you may now kiss the bride. She didn’t even know how she had gotten back to his wagon, or when she and her sisters had been placed in the back of it with their one small bag, safe and warm from the rain under the canvas. All she could remember was she was now Mrs. Gabriel Burnett. What had she done?
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