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Silver Lining (Mail-order Bride) (Volume 1)

By Mildred Colvin

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Chapter 1
October 1891

Danya Morrison’s shoes clicked against the bricks of the dark, back street in New York City. A cold north wind whistled around the corner forcing her head down while her fingers clutched the worn woolen coat that barely covered her body. Only October. But already winter was making itself known. How would she survive without her parents?

A black streak darted past her feet, causing her heart to leap into her throat. She stifled the scream that rose with it. Only a cat. It was nothing.

She hated this awful walk home from work every evening. Guilt stabbed her conscience. Her job at the department store was a blessing. She must remember that fact, despite the late hours and hard work. Thank You, Lord, for my room even though it’s small and contains only the bare necessities of life. At least I have what I need. And this dark street isn’t so bad. I suppose the neighborhood could be worse.

Remorse filled her heart. How could she pray such a prayer? Even to her, it sounded full of complaints. She took in a cleansing breath. "I’m sorry, Lord. You know best. Not my will, but Thine be done."

Rustling startled her. She glanced over her shoulder. Of course, no one was there. The street was deserted. Just as it was every night when she hurried home from work. She scoffed at her fears. She was becoming a frightened child. Especially at night. Darkness closed in on her with strange noises she couldn’t identify.

Eeetch.

She slowed to hear better. Scratching in the bushes that lined the yard she passed calmed her. Surely it was only a small animal digging in the leaves.

While her pulse returned to normal, she turned her thoughts to Mama and Papa. Had they really been gone six months? She missed the happy times. Of Papa reading to her and Mama from his extensive library. Mama kneading bread in her cheery kitchen. Working with Papa in the museum. Anything to block out the fear creeping over her with each step she took. Only two more blocks, and she’d be at the boarding house.

Clip clop. The steady rhythm of a horse’s hooves entered her awareness. She cringed at the sound. Was it the same hack that had passed each of the three previous nights? She glanced over her shoulder as it approached. Yes, and it was slowing just as before. Tonight the black-covered vehicle edged close to the side of the road. She pushed against the bushes away from it and picked up her pace. A shiver traced fingers of fear throughout her body.

The hack stopped. It had never done this before. Her heart pounded, her breath quickened. What could they want? Her gaze darted about the street and yards. She hurried past. She wanted to run, but sensed a sudden move would bring the threat into the open. Another look over her shoulder revealed nothing but the dark street. Surely the hack had nothing to do with her.

“Yeowl!”

The cry slammed against Danya’s nerves, bringing forth the primal instinct of survival—and terror. Her heart pounded. Her breath came quick. Her feet pounded the stones as she took flight. Safety. So close, yet so far. The dark hack glided past, but she didn’t slow. Maybe the danger was over, but fear still controlled her reasoning. She only wanted to reach the safety of her room.

Danya ran until she felt her lungs would burst. If she could get into the boarding house, she’d be safe. She had no other place to hide from terrors in the night. Her feet flew over the bricks as one house after another blurred past. No longer did she hear frightening noises. Only the beating of her heart filled her ears. Then the boarding house came into sight. Safety.

She stopped. The same dark carriage stood in front of the house. Danya almost fell as she tried to step back. To reverse her direction. Where could she go? This was a nightmare. Tears filled her eyes. Lord, help me! Deliver me from evil!

A dark shape took form beside the hack. She screamed and stumbled on weakened legs. A huge bulk of a man stood between her and the boarding house. Gathering renewed strength, she pivoted and ran back the same way she’d come.

Pounding footsteps closed the distance. Fear crept up her neck with shivering fingers. She was tired, so tired. She couldn’t run any faster. She couldn’t get away.

Ragged breaths sounded behind her. The hack appeared to the side, rolling along the edge of the street. She wouldn’t reach safety. If there was any safety to reach. Yet she’d never give up. Never!

A heavy hand closed over her shoulder, dragging her to a stop. “Ya gave me a merry chase, girl. I gotcha now.” The man’s words came quick and fast, releasing putrid breath into her face as he breathed hard.

She turned away, gagging and gasping for fresh air. “I have no money.”

He grunted.

“Let me go.” She tried to jerk away, but he held her even tighter.

She swung hard at his head and connected, hurting her fist.

“Ya little spitfire.” He cursed.

She kicked his shin and almost fell from the impact.

He grabbed her up close to him, his unwashed body odor gagging her. “Stop right now. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

She couldn’t move. Why didn’t someone in the boarding house hear the struggle? They should’ve come to her rescue.

“Got a live one there, Buck?” Another deep, raspy voice joined them. “Let’s get her out of here afore she attracts attention.”

Before she fully registered the new man’s presence, he stuffed a course, rank-smelling rag in her mouth and plopped a cloth bag over her head. She sputtered and tried to throw it off, but couldn’t. When he jerked her arms behind her back, she bit the rag to keep from crying out.

A rough rope scratched her wrists, digging into them as the man tied her hands together. Buck lifted her in a bear hug, leaving her feet dangling.
She squirmed and kicked, but he laughed aloud. “Quitcher fightin’, gal.
Ain’t gonna do ya no good. Ole Buck’s gotcha now, and ya can’t get away.”

He hoisted her then loosened his hold, letting her fall. She tried to catch her balance, but the ropes stung her wrists, and a whimper sounded in her ears as she landed in a heap on the floor of the hack. She was bruised and scraped. Abducted for no reason. She wanted Mama and Papa. Darkness as deep as the night closed over her soul. "Lord, help me!"

“Think I better tie her feet, too, Ed?” Springs squeaked above her.

“Ain’t skeered of a little gal, are ya?” Ed’s gravelly laughter matched his gruff voice.

“Shut up and git us outta here afore the coppers show up.” Buck kicked her unbound feet to the side as he stretched out his legs. The door slammed shut.

A bounce of the hack suggested Ed was back in the driver’s seat. “More’n likely be some snoopy neighbor. Cops don’t care much for this part of town.” His voice drifted in as the hack jerked into motion. “Haw, get on there.”

Danya worked the foul-tasting rag from her mouth, but she didn’t cry out. It’d do no good. She squeezed herself into a ball, taking up as little room as possible. These men weren’t robbers. Her purse still hung from her arm. In fact, it was gouging her backside. She shifted to relieve the pressure.
Her muscles ached. Her eyelids drooped with the gentle swaying of the hack.

Her heart settled into a steady rhythm. She’d been kidnapped. How ridiculous. Her clothing was threadbare, her coat barely kept her from freezing. She obviously had nothing. No one who would pay a ransom to get her back. Her landlady would be only too happy to sell her few belongings and rent her room out again.

Each sway and bump of the hack added to Danya’s distress. She tried to sense each turn every time they slowed but soon lost sense of direction and distance. Even if she got away, she’d be lost in the city. "Lord, please help me get out of this. You’ve promised to be with me always. To watch over me and direct my paths. I need—"

“Whoa.” The hack jerked to a halt.

Danya bumped her head against the wall. Her stomach heaved at the sudden stop. She swallowed, willing herself to not get sick. Not now.

The hack bounced and creaked as Buck opened the door and stepped down. His hand closed around her ankle and tugged. “Come on, girlie.”

She jerked her foot away, scrambled into a sitting position, and scooted toward the sound of his voice. Her feet found the edge of the floor, and she pushed forward until she could stand outside the hack.

Buck’s hard, vise-like hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her toward him as he turned and moved ahead.

She stumbled in total darkness. Buck’s hand on her arm repulsed her, but she had to trust him to lead her safely past obstacles. Into what, she didn’t know. She couldn’t think beyond the moment. Nothing seemed real.

Only one step at a time. One pain. One fear. She concentrated on placing her feet, letting each step take her closer to an unknown fate.

Buck stopped. Muffled bumps and the sound of scraping wood filtered through the bag over Danya’s head. A door squealed in protest, its hinges obviously rusty and unused to being opened.

Buck shoved Danya over a threshold. They were in a building. In her mind, she felt the walls, the ceiling and the floor. Then up some steps, around a corner then another. Her steps were smooth now as they walked on the wooden floor. A few more steps and Buck stopped again while the clink of a key turning in a lock set Danya’s heart pounding.

“There ya be, sweetie. You’re at yore new home.” He laughed. “Leastways for a couple of days.”

“Don’t be gettin’ friendly with the merchandise, Buck.” Ed’s gravelly voice boomed so close to Danya’s ear she jumped.

Ed laughed in the same rough voice. “Don’tcha worry. I ain’t gonna touch ya exceptin’ ta get this here bag off your head.”

He jerked the bag from her and grunted. “Huh, lost your gag. It don’t matter now. Scream all ya want. No one’s gonna hear or care if they do.”

She looked up at a tall, rough-looking man who appeared as old as her father had been.

He grinned, his teeth amazingly white and even. “Well, got us a pretty one this time. You better keep your hands off her, ya hear me, Buck? The boss wants her untouched.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” Ed’s order didn’t stop Buck’s gaze from sliding over her face and down past her coat to her high-topped shoes then traveling the same route back.

He couldn’t see past her coat, but she felt violated. He was a tall, stocky-built younger man with sandy hair and blue eyes. He licked his lips and turned away to push the door open.

A bedroom. His hand on her back forced her to enter. In the dim light coming only from the moon shining through a lone bare window, Danya saw two beds and a dresser. Nothing else.

Buck’s hands at her wrists startled her. She stood still and let him untie the rope, grateful for that much consideration. He lit a lantern on the dresser near one of the beds.

Danya rubbed her wrists and startled when he gave her a shove toward the bed. She landed in an undignified heap on her side. Afraid to move, she lay where she’d fallen and stared up into his leering face.

“Ya ain’t a bad looker.” A calculating spark entered his eyes before he turned, blew out the light, and left, closing the door with a decisive click.

Danya sprang to life, looking frantically about. Surely, there was something she could use to protect herself if he came back. Darkness reached toward her from the far corners of the room. She stumbled toward the door and tried to turn the knob. As she suspected, it was locked. Tears filled her eyes as she sank back to the bed and whispered, “Father God, where are You?”

She bowed her head and swallowed, trying hard to keep the tears away. Crying wouldn’t bring her mother and father back or return her to her room in the boarding house. She wanted to rail at God for letting this happen, but she couldn’t. For a moment, she calmed her breathing and sat in silence, letting her mind dwell upon the Lord she trusted.

“Jesus, what can I do to get away from these evil men? It is not Your will that I be here. I won’t believe that. Give me wisdom to know what to do.”

She sat quietly waiting. As a cloud moved outside, a ray of moonlight entered her prison and fell across her feet. She sucked in a breath and looked up. For the second time, she took note of the tall window hinting at an opening to the outdoors. She was on the second floor. If there was no balcony, escape would still be impossible.

Oh, Danya, where is your faith? It was as if her father had spoken to her.

With hope stirring in her heart, Danya rose and followed the moonlight across the room. Lord, please let this window be unlocked. She checked the lock then tugged, but still it wouldn’t budge although she strained against the sash. It had probably been painted shut. She scratched at the paint with her fingernail and some crumbled off. Likely, the paint was old. A knife would easily score it and release the window. If she had a knife. Which of course she didn’t.

Disheartened, Danya returned to the bed and sat down—on her purse.

She scooted over and picked up her bag. The moonlight didn’t reach far enough or bright enough to help her see, so she rummaged through an accumulation she should’ve cleaned out long ago. There was her bi-weekly pay given to her moments before she’d left the store. Enough to carry her through the next two weeks, her money was useless now. At first, she despaired of finding anything thin and strong enough to cut through old paint. Then her fingers brushed metal and closed around her father’s old pocketknife.

Of course. She’d been afraid to leave it in her room in case the landlady decided to pay a visit while she was at work and rummage through her things. She put everything back in her purse and hooked it over her arm. No sense in wasting time coming back for it once she opened the window. And open it, she would. With renewed hope, Danya set to work.

She pressed the blade into the paint and worked her way down one side. Every creak of the house brought a jump to her heart. Footsteps and bumping stole her strength until she didn’t know if she could continue. Then, steady steps in the hall froze her heart and sapped the strength from her fingers. The knife fell from her hand.

No! She couldn’t lose it. She had so little of her parents’ things in her life and nothing else with her.

Metal scraped metal at the door.

She didn’t have time to look for the knife now. Leaving it, she jumped up and scampered across the room to the bed.

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