Porcelain White (Book 1)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

New Beginnings

Train arrivals brought unmarried girls to the isolated rural town on the prairie. Mail-order brides were answering ads and starting brand new lives. On this warm August day, Isaiah Grant's daughter was to marry a man she had never met. As the train slowed, smoke blocked Isabel's view of the platform.

Waiting for the train to arrive in Redwood, Minnesota, became a habit for many townspeople. Curious settlers sauntered down to see the fancy new deliveries.

The old-timers declared that the arrival of the train was a big moment for every bachelor in town. Some of the more zealous bachelors climbed up to the tops of feed sheds and watched with field glasses, to see the steam locomotive approaching.

"I see three blondes and a red-head," shouted down a lumberjack lying on a rooftop of a hay shed.

As the train drew near, potential bridegrooms looked inside and studied the prospects.

When the locomotive slowed to a halt at the depot, there was a regular stag-line of awkward men, young and old. Every one of them wondered whether his future bride might be stepping down onto the wooden platform.

On that particular late August afternoon, one of the bridegrooms-to-be was Captain Ivan Pichon, a man who went to great trouble to avoid being disappointed. Grant's daughter was due in on the train, but he was not going to meet it. No. He positioned himself on a hillside near the train depot, armed with a sturdy pair of binoculars. His sergeant stationed himself several feet behind the Captain to await orders.

At last, the train slid to a halt. Dry dust swirled around the locomotive and rail car doors swung open. The porters dropped down the wooden staircases for passengers to descend. Isabel looked out the window and watched as town folks greeted the passengers and welcomed them to Redwood.

With the help of the porter, moments later his bride-to-be stepped down. He recognized her porcelain white hair. Her hair was just like her mother. The Captain, with his binoculars, trained upon her, gave her a thorough going over from a distance. Finding no one to meet her, Isabel Grant walked up and down the platform.

"Damn it! She is nothing more than a skinny school girl. What the hell do I want with an ugly school girl." His disgust turned to anger. Within moments, he dispatched his sergeant with a note and a leather pouch with plenty of coins to send the girl back home.

Pichon felt he deserved better than her. He needed a wife to impress the Major. The rumors of the fort closing made the Captain nervous. He wanted a promotion with a pay raise and a move to a more comfortable position at his age.

Sergeant John Webster was a burly man, standing six foot four inches and had served Captain Pichon for two years. Readjusting his small, flat-topped, billed cap, the sergeant turned his bay-colored mare toward the train depot. His mind raced to process the generous pouch of coins and the strangeness of the errand.

As he rode, John cursed under his breath. He seemed to end up in awkward situations because of his captain. When he pulled up to the platform, his foot hit the wooden planks with determination to make this short and sweet.

After waiting several minutes outside, Isabel Grant walked into the lobby of the depot to ask the ticket master if there had been a message for her from Captain Pichon. She felt so nervous as she wrung her hands together.

A tall, broad-shouldered soldier rushed through the door with authority.

She caught her breath and thought to herself, "Oh there he is, just like Papa said. Oh My. He is handsome, and he is a soldier. He must be the man who wants to marry me."