Love For Sale

Love For Sale

By James C. Dedman

Edited By Daryl Debunhurst

Copyright 2019 James Dedman

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead (Except historical figures) is purely coincidental)

This book is dedicated to my sister Jane, whose picture was amazingly perfect for this cover.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: "The Confirmed Bachelor"

Chapter 2: The Confirmed Salesman

Chapter 3: The Problem Miner

Chapter 4: The Lady in Question

Chapter 5: The Little Princess

Chapter 6: The Trouble Maker

Chapter 7: Only the Worst Wedding Night in History

Chapter 8: The Worst Day of Business Ever

Chapter 9: The Best News Ever

Chapter 10: Only the Best Trip Ever

Chapter 11: The New Best Friend

Chapter 12: The Worst Detective

Chapter 13: The New Trooper

Chapter 14: The New Vivandier

Chapter 15: The New Camp

Chapter 16: The New Picture

Chapter 17: The New Plan

Chapter 18: The New Outlook

Chapter 19: The Changes in Claudia

Chapter 20: The Silver King Sterling Howard

Chapter 21: The New Mrs. Howard

Chapter 22: Pinkerton’s Bureau Chief

Chapter 23: Tom Caldwell: Defendant

Chapter 24: The Perfect Husband

Chapter 25: The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

The Confirmed Bachelor

Captain Everett Holt

Fall 1869

Captain Everett Holt was an officer in the United States Cavalry. He had graduated from West Point in 1862 and seen immediate action in the American Civil War. In that war he had been given his regular army rank of second lieutenant and then a volunteer army rank of captain. From that he had risen in both ranks during the war with some brevets too for distinguished service in combat. At its conclusion he was a captain in the regular army with a rank of lieutenant colonel in the volunteers.

Like many other officers he left his volunteer soldiers when the war ended and was assigned back to a company of regular army cavalry in the west to command. For the past four years he and the first sergeant of his company, Sergeant Myles Ford, had worked together to make his cavalry company the very best in their regiment.

Holt was a rather tall man for the cavalry, six feet in height. He was rugged and very sturdy with a broad chest and strong arms and legs. He held himself well and walked like an important man. He was no less on a horse, being an excellent rider and when mounted it seemed like the horse was an extension of his own body so perfectly could he move the animal around with only the slightest pressure of his hands and legs. In that way he was very suited to mounted military service.

Captain Holt had brown hair and green eyes. He was thin about the waist and hips with rather a broad chest. When out on campaign he would let his facial hair grow into a rough beard, but when back at his post or cantonment, he would shave it all off.

Unlike many other cavalry units in 1869, Holt’s troop was not chasing the hostile Indians this year. Instead his company had been assigned to provide protection for the railroad people building a rail line from Cheyenne, Wyoming, to Denver, Colorado. The Union Pacific and just completed its junction with the Central Pacific to finish the first transcontinental railroad across the United States. Now, there were plans for other lines to hook other cities to that massive trunk line all across the North American Continent. The work he protected with his troop was envisioned to connect Cheyenne to Denver.

The cold weather on the plains had brought a halt to this effort with the train track complete to the banks of the South Platte River just north of Denver in the late fall of 1869. Holt and his company of troopers were then boarded onto the railroad for return to their post. Men and horse were transported back to Fort Russell outside of Cheyenne to spend the winter. Holt could see the military value of the railroad, as riding this ground would have taken them a couple of days and they moved back instead in just a few hours.

When back at Fort Russell, Holt’s troopers went into a barracks there. Holt had quarters in the single officer’s building where all the unmarried officers lived. He had a private, comfortable room there against the cold winter ahead, but he also had a substantial amount of leave coming to him. He had taken no leave last year and his commander was giving him several months now to make up for that.

Like all officers in the United States Army, Everett Holt had a golden railroad pass that gave him free transport anywhere on the trains of America. So it was no effort or real expense at all to go back to his hometown now and visit with his family in Chicago. Unlike many other officers in the service, Holt did not need this financial advantage. His family was well off and he did not live on just his government wage.

I take it everything is well with the men? Holt asked his first sergeant before he left the post for his visit home.

I will keep the men sharp, Sergeant Myles Ford assured him. The Irish sergeant was at least ten years Holt’s senior, but they worked very well together. Enjoy your leave, captain. Have no concerns on our account.

I will then, Holt assured him.

Holt was turning thirty in the next spring. He felt to be in his prime. With his horse secured in the post stables, Holt rode a military transport into Cheyenne with his small trunk and went to the train depot. He caught the next eastbound train out of Cheyenne for Omaha and all points east.

Riding on the train was very different than moving across the country on a horse. Holt remembered the long trail ride out from Fort Leavenworth to the west from just a couple years ago. Even with the best mount he had to be watchful of the trail. Odd things might spook his horse. He had to keep the horse away from prairie dog holes and other dangers on the ground. On a train the miles flew by, at least twenty every hour, with him having to do absolutely nothing. His mind was free to wander in many directions, to even doze if he wanted.

So the long train ride gave him time to think and to ponder. That can be dangerous if not done all the time. Suddenly Holt had the oddest feeling that he was in great danger of becoming a confirmed bachelor. That thought troubled and disturbed him at once. Holt had always been a ladies man, by his reckoning. Women fascinated him and at West Point he had several romances before leaving. In the war he always courted and flirted whenever opportunity presented. When the war ended there were several maidens attracting his attentions at various times. He had once thought to slowly court them and to eventually to get married to the smartest and prettiest of them.

It was a shock now to realize that in the last two years he had not had social interaction with a pretty girl at all. Visiting with the married ladies of the army did not count. Holt was struck hard by the notion of that gaping hole in his life. Upon his return to Chicago he knew not one single lady to make a social call upon. He had not had a social engagement since his last visit home two years ago. Then he had flit about from maiden to maiden like a merry butterfly utterly wasting his time and his opportunities.

Back on the frontier where he spent most of his time the pretty girls were very rare and highly sought after by the single officers. He had never tried with any of the few ladies who had visited with the officers of the army. They seemed stuck up and all thought more of themselves than they deserved.

The shock of his sudden realization frightened him and he did not know why. He was considered a brave man. Why would this bizarre realization about himself unnerve him so today?

There was a pretty girl sitting in the railroad coach and he tried to flirt with her. She ignored him. That was unsettling too.

Part of his discontent surely had to do with infantry Major George Armitage bringing his wife and child along this summer as they had built the rails south from Cheyenne. It was not that Mrs. Armitage was so very beautiful, but she made Major Armitage so very happy. The couple did nearly everything together. She was a perfect sort of a wife for an officer. They had all the officers of the command to dinner every evening and it was the nicest of company. It suddenly and sharply reminded him of what he did not have: female companionship.

The lady on the train was not interested in him. Perhaps she did not see him as the roughish hero that he really was? So he went to his gripsack and replaced his new waist belt worn about his coat with the more used one with his pistol in its holster. He thought that he needed to look like the warrior he really was. At the next station when the conductor came through the train collecting tickets, Holt was sure to show him his golden railroad pass so everyone could see it and understand what an important officer he was. That might make an impression on the young lady.

It did not.

The conductor looked at him like he was from Mars. Every officer in the army had one. Wearing the uniform was enough and the conductor reminded him of that sharply before moving on. The only pretty lady on the train still was not interested in him at all. Had he somehow lost his charm while living on the frontier?

Holt consoled himself a little with the fact that several months ago he had foreseen this very problem and acted to solve his female problem. In the Cheyenne newspaper he had seen an advertisement.

Lonely?

Let the LOVE CLINIC find you the perfect partner.

It went on to essentially offer a mail order bride. More on a lark than anything else, Holt had mailed the company a letter of inquiry and got a response. There was an interest form for him to fill out and return along with a $50 registration fee. For that very handsome fee he would receive the names and photographs of three young women who might be of interest to him based upon his biographical information that he provided the agency. He could write to any or all of them through the agency and at their address for the pricy fee of $2 per letter. His letter would be forwarded to the young lady in question and she could answer back for a similar fee.

Holt had spent the money, gotten three choices, made a selection, and got a wonderful letter back from the maiden he had chosen as a candidate for matrimony. The girl stated she did not have the funds to carry out a long correspondence with him but she informed him that he could spend some money to pre-pay her answering his letters if he wished to correspond further with her. Concerned with this attempt to shake him down for revenue, Holt had suggested she just write him directly and he gave her his address in the army in the second letter.

Then he got a letter from the company returning his letter to her saying this was not allowed under company policy. He got another letter from the lady saying the agency had written her of his attempt to avoid fees and that upset her.

Part of the situation was that if they decided to get married, he was to pay the clinic $100 plus the costs of sending the bride to him with a proper chaperone until the wedding as compensation for the services provided by the agency.

These fees would seem excessive to someone living in the east, but to a lonely man on the frontier, they did not. But the whole exchange by mail had left Holt somewhat unsettled.

Since the home office of this clinic was in Chicago, Holt thought he ought to pay them a call to see if the clinic was on the up and up and perhaps to look over all the women the clinic had for sale in person. Perhaps if he talked with the management it would make more sense to him. He had no objection to the price, only the length of time involved, so he planned to make visiting the home office one of his early stops after connecting with his family in Chicago.

Holt had sent a telegram home ahead of his train saying when he would arrive and his mother and father met him at the Chicago station. His father was a wealthy real estate developer; his mother was perfect sort of handsome woman. Both kissed him and welcomed him back warmly, telling him how they had missed him and catching him up on all the family news of his older brothers and sisters. Holt was the youngest in the family.

Then they had lots of questions about what he had been doing. The first several hours home he described the construction of the transcontinental railroad and his part in that endeavor to them. His parents were interested in his activities and found his account of the frontier fascinating.

It was a few days at home visiting all the relatives before he had the time to slip away to the South Wabash address where the Love Clinic had its offices and received its mail. The address was for a stairway that led to the second floor of the office building. Painted on the glass door was the name: Julius Grant Enterprises. There was no sign for the Love Clinic.

Holt went in the door and up the shabby and somewhat rickety stairs to the second floor where there was another glass door into a small office. Nothing about this old building inspired confidence in him. That impression remained going inside. There was a gentleman sitting in the place where a secretary would sit working on some papers as Holt entered. He presumed the man was Mr. Grant’s secretary. The office was shabby and the furniture all old and very worn.

May I help you? the secretary asked as Holt entered the small office. He was a short man compared to Holt with brown curly hair and suspicious, nervous eyes.

I am Captain Everett Holt, he answered the secretary. I was looking for a business office.

I am Thomas Caldwell, the secretary replied standing, personal secretary to Julius Grant. He is not here today.

"I was looking for a business called the Love Clinic, Holt explained. I am sure this was the address where I mailed my correspondence."

Indeed, that is one of Mr. Grant’s many enterprises, Caldwell answered with a smile. Caldwell was a shorter man only slightly older than Holt. He had brown, rather unkempt curly hair and a very pleasant voice. But he seemed to be trying rather hard to be pleasant, as if he had something to hide.

Would it be possible to arrange an interview with Mr. Grant?

Regarding?

Courtship and marriage, Holt answered.

Mr. Grant is not a marriage counselor, Caldwell explained with just a note of condescension in his voice.

Yes. But I thought since I was in town anyway it would not hurt to have a look at the other ladies in your inventory too, Holt further explained.

We are not a purveyor of flesh, Captain Holt! Caldwell snapped, taking offense at the request and moving in front of a door that went to an inner office.

I understand. But I thought since I was in Chicago anyway, it would save some time to look through more than three at a time.

Mr. Grant has a system, sir. He will not depart from it and the established protocols no matter who makes the request. If you are not satisfied with the first three suggestions, write for more. It is a tried and true system resulting in over one hundred marriages in the three years we have been in operation.

Really? Holt pretended to be impressed. I just thought if I could speak with Mr. Grant . . .

I am sorry, he does not take appointments for that purpose. You would waste your time and his. He would tell you to write for more profiles and receive three more replies. Would you like to leave your address with me?

Holt supplied his parents’ address and Caldwell wrote it down on a notepad on the old desk while still standing.

Ten dollars, please. Caldwell held out his hand when he finished writing.

I will have to think about that, Holt said thrusting his hands firmly in his pockets. "Good