Captivated by a Heart of Gold (Preview)

Chapter One

The snow had been falling softly, but steadily, all day long. Christine Knox stood at one of the two small living room windows, watching the big, soft flakes drift down from the gray sky. She remembered a time when she had thought snowfall was one of the most beautiful things in the world. Now, after twenty-six years in the same small house, she was as tired of snow as she was of everything else in her life.

She sighed and went to the coat rack to get the wool coat her father had worn when he was alive. It was much too large for her small body and five-foot, three-inch height, but it allowed her to put on additional layers underneath and to keep her own winter coat clean and dry.

Her mother would be returning soon from her job in the clothing factory, and Christine wanted to sweep the accumulating snow off the narrow sidewalk from the front gate and from the three steps up to the covered porch. She got the new straw broom from its place in the kitchen, grateful for a full complement of stiff bristles that would made short shrift of the soft snow. At least the task was soon finished—as long as it was done several times during days like this—before the snow built up too high.

Just in time, too, for as she was hanging up her father’s coat, her mother opened the front door and stepped into the house, quickly shutting the door behind her.

“Here, Mama, let me help you off with your coat. Was it a very long day? Are you quite done in? I’ve made a beef stew for dinner. Just take a sniff. Doesn’t it smell wonderful? Goodness, I’m so pleased to have you home after being alone all day, that I’m not giving you time to answer one of my questions!”

“Yes, child, the stew certainly does smell wonderful, and I’m so hungry,” Arielle gave her daughter a sympathetic smile before answering one of her questions. Since Arielle was paid by the number of men’s shirts that she could sew in a day, she would eat a large breakfast before walking to the factory and take almost no time at all for a quick bite during the day.

The table in the small dining room was already set with bowls for the stew and a basket of bread—the last of the loaf that Christine had baked several days ago. She served her mother first and then let her eat in peace. After being alone all day, Christine looked forward to a conversation with her mother in the evenings, but there was time for that after her mother had eaten. It began as Christine filled the kitchen sink with water, and Arielle brought in the dirty dishes to be washed.

“Sarah told me the most interesting thing today. There’s a woman named Aurora Phelps who is trying to organize a union for seamstresses who work in factories, as we do. Of course, we had to stop talking whenever Mr. Prescott walked by. He would be furious about any union talk on the floor. Well, I don’t expect that it will do me any good at my time of life, but I hope this Phelps woman is able to do something for the younger ones coming up.”

“Mama! You’re not that old; you’re forty-three. However, it would be a very good thing for whomever it benefits. I wish much success for her effort.”
“I feel old though. How I long to get far away from these New England winters someday and go out West!”

Responding to Christine’s silence, Arielle continued.

“Oh, darling, I know how badly you want to leave too. Have you given any more thought to the bridal advertisements in the newspaper? I understand that it’s quite an unsettling notion but consider this. What would it hurt just to read the ads? That’s all I’m suggesting. If none of them strikes a chord, where does that leave you?”

“I know exactly where that leaves me—right where I’ve always been. No better, but no worse. We’ve had this conversation often enough that I have it memorized, Mama.”

“Good, then you’ll begin to read some of the letters, won’t you? For heaven’s sake, give it a chance! I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I learned something important when I first moved here from the country to work in the factory. Leaving the farm to go live in a strange place away from my family was the single, most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life. When I stepped up onto that train, I was almost beside myself with fear. By the time I arrived, however, I was excited as I could be for my new life and so happy that I had made the decision to leave the farm.”

“How did that happen, Mama? How could you go from one emotion to its complete opposite in the length of a train trip?”

“Christine, that’s exactly what did it—the length of a train trip. It gave me the time I needed to make that adjustment. It forced me to accept, as nothing else could, that I had chosen this adventure, and, before I knew it, I was facing my new future with an eagerness that I hadn’t felt for a long, long time.”

After another short silence, Christine nodded decisively.

“Alright, Mama. You’ve never once given me bad advice, so I’ll take a look. Mr. Priddy delivered the newspaper today, so perhaps you can read some of the letters to me while I do my piece work tonight.” Arielle had never wanted her daughter to work in the factory with her, so she had assigned Christine the task of running the house while she was at work.

Christine planted a garden every spring which she weeded and watered until the fall squash had been harvested, and she kept the fire going in the pot-bellied stove in a corner of the living room all winter long. She also insisted on doing piece work to earn her own pocket money, so Arielle brought home fabric for her daughter to make collars and cuffs for the men’s shirts that were sewn at the factory.

They had been doing this work long enough to be among the top earners in the field, as being paid by the piece meant that Christine’s wages depended on her speed and skill. Arielle was proud of earning at least thirty cents a day. Christine earned less, but she was able to save most of it. Well, she was able to save almost everything that she had left after helping someone in the neighborhood.

Dishes done, Christine picked up fabric cut for a collar and sat in one of the two chairs in front of the stove, and Arielle took the other chair, newspaper in hand. Exchanging humorous looks of resignation from one and determination from the other, Arielle looked for a letter worth the reading.

“Oh, listen to this one:

‘Wife dead. Woman needed to clean and cook for boardinghouse residents. Must also be good with animals, gardening, and building repairs. Will marry if I must.’

“Well, it’s clear that his poor wife was worked to death. What a prize he’ll be for the next one! I wonder what his responsibilities are around the boardinghouse?”

“Perhaps the guests require someone to drink and play cards with in the evening. Then of course he would need to rest up for that exertion during the day. I feel sorry for the woman desperate enough to respond to this, and I’m suddenly quite grateful for my job at the factory.”

“Let’s have no more such letters as that, Mama. Can you find one that I might actually consider?”

“Christine! Listen to this one. Oh, Christine, he’s in California!

“‘Miner in northern California seeks bride to share my life. Please respond to B. Meacham in care of the post office in Auburn, California if you are interested in beginning a new adventure with an honest and moral man.’”

Mr. B. Meacham’s letter seemed to have struck a chord with Christine, for when Arielle looked up from the newspaper, her daughter was staring at her.

“Mama, I think I would like to respond to this one. Do I just write a letter and send it to him?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what you need to do. Write a nice, long letter that gives him some information about yourself, and let him know what it was about his advertisement that interested you. You can write it tomorrow, can’t you?”

“Yes, Mama. I need to bake bread tomorrow, and I can write while it’s in the oven. Oh, my goodness, what will I do if he answers my letter?”

“Here’s what you will do. You will take this one letter at a time. If he writes back, it would be your first opportunity to get to know a little bit about him. There’s so much you can discern from a letter, especially if you read between the lines. Right now, don’t think beyond the letter you will write. There’s just no point in doing do, since he may not answer it. He may be flooded with replies, after all, since he sounds like a good man. There is just one other thing you need to do, though, and that is save your money. You’ll need all you can get to travel out West, and it would be nice to be able to afford a new dress or two. I’ve talked to you before about your generosity, but now it must stop. Really, Christine, considering our circumstances, you can’t afford to allow people to take advantage of you the way they do.”

“But it doesn’t feel as though they are taking advantage of me, Mama. It just seems as though they need help, and here I am with a roof over my head, plenty to eat, and some extra money of my own.”

“Yes, darling, that’s so, but you have a responsibility to yourself first. Who else is going to help you get a start in life, however that may look? I will always do what I can, but of all the people you have helped with a little bit here and a little bit there—which one of them would help pay for your travel out West?”

“Alright, I can see the wisdom in what you say. It’s just that people come to me with their troubles, and it feels good to be able to help. However, I’ll try to toughen up and hang on to my money, because I really don’t want to take any of yours.”

Christine wrote her letter the following day, taking her time and a lot of thought, and, after removing her bread from the oven, she left home to walk carefully along snowy sidewalks to the post office. Once there, she pulled the letter out of her pocket to mail, pausing for a moment as if there were some way to look into the future and see the results of the action she was about to take.

Suddenly realizing that the clerk behind the counter was asking for a second time, “Can I help you, miss?” Christine shrugged and handed over the letter. And, in an instant, the course of her future was out of her hands.

Chapter Two

Brian Meacham strode along the wooden boardwalk toward the Auburn post office. He needed to get back to the mine as soon as possible; after all, gold wasn’t going to just pop out of the ground. No sir, it took backbreaking work to locate a vein—if a person were ever so lucky to even do so. However, he’d had to come into Auburn for supplies anyway so thought he would just look in at the post office to see if he had any mail.

He was handed six letters, which he stuck into his back pocket, and left. He’d tied the horse and wagon to the hitching post outside the general store, ready for loading, so that, now, all he had to do was purchase the supplies, load them into the wagon, and head back home. Brian looked forward to reading the letters, all of which seemed to be responses to his ad, but he was somewhat nervous about the prospect at the same time. The letters could wait until tonight.

This was such an odd way to choose a wife—a companion for life. However, there was really no choice in the matter. There were very few women in the mining camp, and almost all of them were married. There were one or two floozies, as there always seemed to be in a mining camp—loose women who preyed on lucky miners. And there were a few saloon girls, but Brian wasn’t interested in any of them. At the very least, he wanted a wife whose morals would never be in doubt.

Driving back into Meacham’s Folly, who should he see first but Whitley Roberts. Brian had hoped to avoid being seen with a wagon load of supplies purchased in Auburn by the owner of the general story and trading post in town. Of course, Whitley raised his hand in greeting, and Brian couldn’t just drive on by without stopping to say hello. In addition to owning the store, the man was a stakeholder in Brian’s mine.

“Hey, Whit.”

“Howdy, Meacham. Whatcha got there? Well, if that don’t look like a wagon full a store-bought supplies, I don’t know what does.”

“Now, Whitley, don’t get your dander up. Your business is going to grow, and any day now, I’ll be able to get everything I need from you. But right now, you don’t have half of this stuff in stock, and I don’t have time to stop at two stores.”

“Alright, Meacham, I’ll letcha be on yer way since yer in such a gol dang hurry. Ya should be, too. I need money ta buy supplies, so why don’tcha get back ta work and find us some.”

“Good idea, Whitley. I’ll be off, then.” Brian greeted several more residents of Meacham’s Folly before he reached his own property. The community was a small one with less than five hundred residents, and, as one of the original settlers, he knew almost everyone.
The town had grown quickly from the mining camp that it originally was. Some people had already given up on mining but remained in the area, branching out into farming or ranching. Meacham’s Folly had become an actual town just six months before, and promptly instituted a town council as a fledgling form of government to make decisions about the town as it grew. Brian hated the name it had been given but chose to ignore it since the name had been adopted by everyone so quickly.

Brian did get back to work, but, as had been the case every day that he had been mining this claim, he found just a few small nuggets. Today’s find wouldn’t bring in more than about twenty dollars. It wasn’t bad. Enough twenty-dollar bills would certainly support him and the small-scale ranching he had begun doing on the side. It just wasn’t enough to help him achieve his dream of a ranch large enough to provide for a wife and children.

Back home at the end of the day, Brian ate his baked beans and ham cold, cleaned up after himself, and sat down to read his letters.

Kind Sir
Pleese advize if you have strucken it rich yet. I am most intersted in becoming yor wife but I also have some famly who wood like to come with me and may reqire need funds to begin a new life.
Yers truly,
Annetta Smith

Brian crumpled it up and tossed it into the potbellied stove to burn to ashes the next time he lit a fire. His requirements for a wife were rapidly expanding to include knowledge of the past tense form of strike, general English spelling, and sufficient interest in a real partnership as to properly introduce herself and want to get to know him.

Mr. B. Meacham,
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Elsie Fassbinder, and I am a servant in the household of a wealthy New York family. I hate my job very much. This family is not kind, and I wish to leave as soon as may be possible. I have saved my wages and can pay my own way to California. Please send by wire an acceptance of myself as your wife, as that will enable me to leave the soonest.

Sincerely,
Elsie Fassbinder

Miss Fassbinder’s letter followed Miss Smith’s into the potbellied stove. The idea of rescuing someone who was ready to jump on a train immediately didn’t sit well with him. He preferred to find a prospective bride who wanted to get to know him over a series of letters.

Mr. B. Meacham
Sir,
I confess to being quite struck with your advertisement for the simple reason that, while my current situation is comfortable and keeps me busy, I do rather long for more sunshine than we get here in New England. More importantly, I found that the mention of adventure tugged at something within me. Let me tell you a little about myself, so you will understand why that may be.

I live in a factory town with my mother. My father died when I was a very young child, and I regret that I remember little of him other than a deep voice that was gruff but very kind and strong hands that lifted me up easily into his arms.

My mother has worked in the nearby clothing factory since his death to support us. I consider myself to have been extremely lucky that, having just one parent, she is such a wise and loving one.

While my mother works, I keep house. In addition to the cooking and cleaning, I garden as long as the weather permits and there is a crop to weed and water. I enjoy my garden very much as I love to be out of doors, and I take a little pride in supplying our table with fresh vegetables. Perhaps you will understand, then, why the long, cold winters can be rather depressing by the middle of January, when we still have several more months to endure.

In addition to my chores, I do piece work for the factory to earn some pocket money. I certainly appreciate the opportunity to contribute to the household income, but this work also helps me to stay busy. I have always found myself to be happier when I am bustling about and absorbed in my work.

There is little to do in our small town, especially during the winter. Even during the summer when I am happily working in the garden, I have been occupied with the same things for most of my twenty-six years. I am quite sure that this is the reason the idea of a new landscape to view, people to meet, and perhaps even a slightly more varied routine appeal to me so.

I imagine that you are a busy man, and that I should not claim any more of your attention than I already have. Hopefully, this letter is of sufficient interest to begin a correspondence between us. We would naturally want to know each other better before we consider a life together, do you not agree?

Most Sincerely,

Christine Knox

Brian set Miss Knox’s letter aside and opened the remaining three. As they were all too short and didn’t indicate any interest in first getting acquainted, they followed the first two into the stove. He picked up Christine’s letter and read it again. Then he gathered a piece of paper and a pen and sat down at his kitchen table to reply.

***

The next month was spent working even harder to find that elusive vein of gold and looking forward to Christine’s next letter. Being well-stocked with supplies for the time being, Brian seldom felt the need to visit town.

Hard at work in the mine one bright, sunny, yet slightly chilly winter’s day, Brian became aware of the sound of a horse galloping up to the entrance. Leaving the dim shelter of the cavern, he was forced to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun to see that Henry Cady had ridden up into the foothills to pay him a visit.

At forty-four years of age, Henry was the oldest of the two friends who had come north from Texas with Brian. He also owned a stake in the mine as he had helped his friend buy the property, but his real focus was on ranching and farming. He had prospered and was the richest of the three partners at this time. Henry was also the only one of the three who was married; his wife and son had made the arduous journey from Texas with him.

“Haven’t seen you in town for a few weeks, Brian. Thought I’d just ride up and see how things are with you.”

“Good to see you, Henry,” Brian said. “How are Madeline and Morrie?”

“My good woman is doing well, doing well. That son of mine is running her ragged, though. Four years old and into everything.” Henry’s soft Texas drawl turned the word everything into everthang. He continued with a smile, “When’s this hole in the ground going to start paying out?”

“Soon, I hope. I’d like to be married before I’m a year older, but I can’t have the young lady come out until I’m a little better off.”

“What’s this? You’ve found yourself a bride? Well, well, won’t Maddie be interested to hear that! Did you put an ad in the newspapers, after all?”

“Yes, I did, and we’ve been corresponding for the last month. I believe I’ve found a good woman of my own, Henry.”

“Well, well, I look forward to meeting her. Say, I ran into Whitley the other day. He’s really getting a little impatient for the mine to pay off.”

“I did see him a month or so back. Unfortunately, I was bringing in a wagon load of supplies from Auburn at the time. He wasn’t too happy with me. I wish Stoney hadn’t sold his share of the mine to Whit; though, really, I don’t know why it matters. The way Stoney’s losing money at the poker table, he’d be pressuring me harder than Whitley does.”

Sam “Stoney” Williams had come up to northern California from Texas with Brian and Henry and had originally been the third stakeholder in the mine. He was originally a fairly honest man, but greed, what looked increasingly like a gambling addiction, and some bad decisions had changed him considerably since the three settled in the area that was to become Meacham’s Folly.

“That’s no more than the unfortunate truth. Well, I’d better be getting back to the ranch. I hope to be meeting that bride of yours soon. Good luck, Brian.”

Brian turned back into the mine and went to work. He continued to correspond with Christine, and even made an arrangement with the son of the postmaster in Auburn to ride out to Meacham’s Folly to deliver his letters for the princely sum of one dollar. Early every morning, he would see that his small herd of cattle was provided with feed and water for the day and then ride up to the mine in the foothills and work until his lantern didn’t provide enough light to continue.

Almost a month after Henry had paid him a visit, Brian struck the largest vein of gold that had ever been seen in the area.

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“Captivated by a Heart of Gold” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Eager to escape the cold weather of the East, Christine decides to respond to a mail-order bride ad. None of the letters intrigue her until she reads one by Brian, whose kindness touches her deeply. She travels to meet him, and although it’s too soon, she agrees to marry him right away. She is enjoying life with Brian until a mysterious woman shows up to throw everything into disarray…

Once she finds out the worst about Brian’s background, will Christina’s determination to protect her heart destroy the possibility of finding happiness?

Brian Meacham is a gold miner who is now dealing with the uncomfortable changes that striking it rich can bring to a person’s life. Although he never expects to fall in love, everything changes upon Christine’s arrival. When a serious accusation against her is brought to his attention though, he must find a way to trust his instinct.

Will Brian fight to defend what he loves and prevent Christine from any harm?

Although Christine and Brian feel an immediate bond, they soon realize that their differences may rule out any meaningful relationship. Is their marriage doomed to fail or will they find a way back to each other in the end?

“Captivated by a Heart of Gold” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!