The Marriage Barter

The girl turned toward her, eyes wide.

It wasn’t Sasha.

Charlotte’s heart stopped. The doll toppled harmlessly onto the shelf, but Charlotte no longer cared about a doll. Her daughter was gone.

“Where’s Sasha?”

Lynette backed away as tears rose in her eyes. “I dunno.”

Charlotte’s heart went out to her. “Oh, Lynette, it’s not your fault.” It’s mine. A sickening feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. She should have watched Sasha more closely. She should have seen her daughter walk away from the toys. “I’m sure Sasha just went to look at something else. I’ll find her.” The words carried more confidence than she felt.

Charlotte swept around the barrels of flour, her black crepe dress rustling as she moved through the store, checking every aisle and corner. Not in the hardware section or meandering among the groceries. Perhaps she’d gone to the candy counter. Charlotte spun around and saw only Mrs. Gavin and Beatrice Ward. Oh, dear.

“Sasha?” Once again she swept the length of the store. Her panic escalated with every step.

Sasha wasn’t anywhere.

Miss Ward looked up sharply, her pinched mouth gloating in triumph. “That’s the way those filthy urchins are. It’s bred into them. I could have told you she’d run off. You can’t trust their type for an instant.”

Charlotte blanched at the cruel words. “She’s only four and doesn’t know her way around town yet.”

“Now, don’t you worry, Mrs. Miller,” Mrs. Gavin said calmly. “She can’t have got far.”

But worry was exactly what Charlotte felt, along with shame and fear that washed through her in ice-cold waves. Why hadn’t she noticed that Sasha had left? She hadn’t even realized the difference between Sasha and Lynette. What sort of mother was she? Now Beatrice Ward would tell everyone what had happened, and they’d say she was unfit to raise a child.

They wouldn’t take Sasha away, would they? Charlotte’s heart rattled against her rib cage. Sasha was all she had, her only family, the only person she had to love.

She raced from the store, her feet barely touching the three wooden steps. She looked left. Then right. Horses. Pedestrians. A stray dog. No little girl.

Where was Sasha?

She ran first one way and then the other. Sasha. Sasha. Her name beat into Charlotte’s brain in time to her pounding footsteps.

Then she saw her. In the arms of a stranger. A tall, lean man with the piercing gaze of a hunter cradled Sasha with the gentleness of a father.

Her steps slowed, stopped.

Starkly handsome, the man’s dark hair swept the collar of his buckskin jacket. Dark whiskers dusted his cheeks. His eyes, shadowed under the brim of his well-worn hat, stared straight at her. He did not smile. He looked like... Charlotte swallowed hard. He looked like an Indian. Or a gunslinger. An outlaw.

Yet Sasha clung to his neck with total trust, her head nestled on his shoulder.

“Sasha?” The word caught in her throat.

The man’s stony gaze swept her from head to toe. He must not have found the assessment pleasing, for his stern expression never changed and he made no move to hand Sasha to her.

Her panic escalated.

Who was this man, and what was he doing with her daughter?

* * *

Wyatt couldn’t stop staring at the woman. Sun-gold ringlets, touched with a hint of sunset, peeked from beneath the black bonnet. The heavy, black dress only made her porcelain skin look more fragile. Clearly, she was in mourning. Just as clearly, she was this girl’s mother, though the two looked nothing alike.

“Sasha.” Her gentle voice trembled.

Sasha? He stiffened at the peculiar name, but the girl stirred and turned to the familiar voice.

“Mama.” The thin little arms reached for the porcelain-skinned woman, who rushed forward.

“Where have you been? Where did you go?” In seconds the girl was out of his arms and into her mother’s. The woman kissed the girl’s dirty face and hair. “Don’t ever leave me again, understand? I was worried to death.”

Instead of answering, the girl burrowed her head into her mother’s perfectly formed shoulder.

The woman nodded at him, half in fear and half with gratitude. “Thank you. You have no idea how worried I...” She gulped and averted her gaze. “Thank you, truly.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

He wanted to tip that pretty face up so he could get a second look, but she kept her focus on her daughter.

“Yes, well, I should get home to fix supper.” She backed away a step.

“My name’s Wyatt Reed.” Now, why in blazes had he done that? He liked to keep contact with strangers to a minimum. Get in, do the job and get out. No emotional attachments.

“Charlotte Miller.” Her gaze darted up for a moment, and her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He wanted to touch that cheek to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, but beauties like her weren’t meant for men like him. Still, he couldn’t stop staring. A man didn’t see all that many pretty women on the frontier. Who could blame him for taking an extra-long look?

“Like I said, I should go home,” she murmured, again backing away.

He cleared his throat, reluctant to let her go. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where to find the mayor.” It was the only thing he could think to ask, even though he already knew where the town hall was located. “Evans, is it?”

“Yes, Mrs. Evans.” Her pretty little chin thrust out with pride.

“Mrs.?” Baxter hadn’t mentioned that little detail.

“Pauline Evans is a fine mayor, every bit as good as her late husband.” She started out strong defending her mayor, but with every word her certainty faltered, as if she’d lost her nerve.

For some reason, he wanted to encourage her. He dug around for a suitable response and found none. “I have business to take care of. Don’t suppose you’d know where I can find her?”

Again, she ducked her head. “You might try the town hall. If not there, then she’d be at home.”

“Town hall?” He pretended he didn’t know where it was to gain a few more seconds with her.

Her color deepened. “I’ll show you there. It’s on my way.”

A peculiar thrill ran through him. She would willingly walk with him through town? It had been ages since any woman walked in daylight with Wyatt Reed. And this one was a beauty. She’d match up to any ballroom belle back in Illinois.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered to Sasha.

Home. The old ache came back, hard and furious. Wyatt Reed wouldn’t find home until he set foot in San Francisco.

“Can you walk?” Charlotte murmured to Sasha, her face aglow with love for her daughter.

Sasha nodded solemnly and slid to the ground. “Go home.”

For the first time, Wyatt noticed the girl’s peculiar accent. Her voice had been too garbled by tears earlier, but now the foreign lilt was unmistakable. Sasha must not be Charlotte Miller’s natural daughter. A knot formed in his gut. That meant she could be one of the orphans.

His simple job just got a whole lot more difficult.

Chapter Two

They found Mayor Pauline Evans huddled over the table at the front of the meeting hall with the Newfield banker, Curtis Brooks, at her side. Whatever they were discussing, it held their attention so thoroughly that they didn’t hear Charlotte and Wyatt enter the room.

The mayor stabbed her finger at a piece of paper. “It’s all detailed here, if you want to read it.”

Mr. Brooks, his dark hair lightly salted with gray, struggled to hold back a grin. “Now, Mrs. Evans, I’m not questioning how the project is being handled. That’s up to you. The bank sent me to supervise the distribution of your town’s loan—nothing more. And from what I can see, you’re doing a fine job with the chore groups and the distribution of the funds. The bank simply needs a report of expenditures, which I see you have right here.” He slipped the paper away from the mayor. “Now, as to the matter of young Master Liam.”

“I believe we’re agreed on that.”

Charlotte felt like she was intruding on private business. Yesterday, Liam McLoughlin, one of the orphans, had run away after Beatrice Ward called him a thief. The poor boy had hidden in a cave until Sheriff Wright found him. Since both the mayor and Mr. Brooks served on the orphan selection committee, they must be discussing what action to take against Beatrice for causing such a fracas.

She motioned to Wyatt that they should come back later. Instead, he rapped on the door frame.

Mayor Evans and Mr. Brooks looked up, startled.

“Charlotte.” A smile sprang to Pauline’s lips. “What can I do for you?” The auburn-haired mayor hurried toward her with genuine warmth. “And Sasha, too.” The formidable woman’s handclasp and smile conveyed sympathy and something else. Worry? No, pity.

Of course Pauline pitied her. She knew the pain of widowhood. Robert Evans had been a fine man, an excellent mayor and a loving husband. His death following the flood had been a harsh blow to the town. Everyone had expected him to take charge of the rebuilding. Only a woman with Pauline’s will and determination could have fulfilled his dying request to take over as mayor.

“I’m not here for myself,” Charlotte said softly as Sasha clung to her skirts. She glanced at Wyatt, who waited in the doorway, hat in hands. “This is Mr. Wyatt Reed. He said he has business to discuss with you.”

Pauline looked genuinely surprised. Contrary to what Wyatt had implied, she must not have been expecting him. “Mr. Reed.”

“Mrs. Evans.” He stepped forward, his boots rapping on the plank floor. “I wonder if I might have a word with you.” He glanced at Charlotte and Mr. Brooks. “Alone.”

Though Charlotte understood that whatever he had to discuss was none of her affair, part of her hated to leave the man. He’d shown kindness to Sasha and had proven worthy of her daughter’s trust.

Mr. Brooks, however, took umbrage. “What is your business, Mr. Reed?” He positioned himself beside Pauline, clearly ready to defend her.

Pauline saw it differently. “I am fully capable of handling city business on my own.” Her curt response left no room for argument. “Your bank might have loaned us money to rebuild, but it does not have any place in council chambers.”

Curtis Brooks, thoroughly chastened, left any protest unspoken. Bowing stiffly, he begged his leave and departed.

Charlotte had to go, too. She cast a shy smile at Wyatt and Pauline. “I should get Sasha’s supper.” Then she left the meeting room.

In the vestibule, she stopped to straighten Sasha’s dress. Rising, she spotted a notice tacked to the wall. In the poor light she could just make out that the orphan selection committee was meeting tomorrow. Maybe someone had stepped forward to take one of the remaining four children. If Pauline removed Beatrice from the committee, more people might step forward. At least there wouldn’t always be someone pointing out each child’s flaws.

Just thinking of the way Beatrice had acted when families first came forward to take in the children made Charlotte fume. If only she could take in more children... But her resources were limited since Charles’s death, and she doubted even a selection committee without Beatrice Ward would entrust another orphan to her.

“I’ve come from Greenville,” she heard Wyatt Reed say.

Charlotte knew she shouldn’t listen, but his voice carried so clearly that she could hardly avoid hearing what he said. She glanced at the door. To leave, she had to cross the entrance to the hall, which would make it clear she’d overheard them. Best to linger here until an opportune moment and then slip away.

“A prominent citizen hired me to find out why the orphans didn’t arrive there as promised.” His words sent a prickle of unease up her spine.

She leaned a little forward for a better view and saw Pauline’s elbow jerk in irritation.

Still, the mayor’s response was calm and collected. “Which prominent citizen?”

Wyatt hesitated long enough that she wondered if he wasn’t supposed to reveal the answer. “Mr. Felix Baxter, but he’s just the one who hired me. He’s acting on the town’s behalf. They’re wondering why the children have been delayed.”

“I believe Miss Sterling wired Greenville about the situation immediately after arriving in Evans Grove. She needed to await instructions from the New York office after the train robbery forced them to stop here.”

Charlotte pressed her hands to Sasha’s ears at the mention of the train robbery. Holly had told Charlotte how the robbers waved guns and crowded aside Miss Sterling—one of the agents from the Orphan Salvation Society—and the orphans in their quest to steal the loan money Holly and Mr. Brooks had brought from Newfield to rebuild Evans Grove. Thanks to Holly’s quick thinking and the orphan boy Liam’s bravery, Sheriff Wright had been alerted in time to capture the robbers. Unfortunately, their victory had come at a terrible price.

“I wasn’t told all the details, ma’am,” Wyatt was saying, “but I understand the Orphan Salvation Society sends two agents with the children. If Miss Sterling was indisposed, couldn’t the other agent have escorted the children to Greenville?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Arlington was shot during the robbery and died before Doctor Simpson could treat him. Since he was the senior agent, Miss Sterling felt she couldn’t in good conscience move forward without the Society’s counsel.” Mayor Evans wrapped up her argument. “As you can see, there was no one available to escort the children to Greenville.”

“Maybe not at the time, but it’s been two weeks,” Wyatt pressed. “Surely Miss Sterling has recovered and gotten her orders from the Society by now.”

“She has, and they accepted our offer to place the orphans here in Evans Grove. So you see, there’s no need for an escort. The children will be staying.”

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid they won’t. The Orphan Salvation Society had a prior agreement with Greenville, and I aim to see that they deliver on the terms. They can’t go changing their minds halfway through.”

“The Orphan Salvation Society is the children’s caretaker,” the mayor reminded him.

“That is not my point. They already had an agreement. Those children are supposed to go to Greenville. Now, if there’s no one to escort the orphans there, I’ll take them myself. There are eight, I believe.” Wyatt Reed’s words shot through her.

All eight? Charlotte gasped and clutched Sasha to her side. He would take her daughter away from her?

Never!

Without the slightest concern of being overheard, she scooped up Sasha and fled the building.

* * *

Wyatt heard the gasp and turned in time to see a shadow of black flit across the doorway. Mrs. Miller. She must have heard every word.

If the mayor saw her, she gave no indication. “Several of the children have already been placed. Surely the citizens of Greenville would not want to tear children away from their new families.” A triumphant smile slid into place. “For instance, Mrs. Miller—the woman who brought you here—took in Sasha Petrov.”

So Sasha was one of the orphans. An icy finger of doubt slid into his well-constructed plan. Focus, Reed. You need that money to get to San Francisco. He took a deep breath. The mayor said several of the children, not all.

“How many?” he said between his teeth.

“How many what?” she asked cheerfully.

So, she would play a game, would she? “How many of the orphans are already taken?”

She hesitated, as if counting. “Four of the eight, but other families are in the process of selecting children. One of the boys was just claimed, pending the selection committee’s approval. I expect the rest will be placed soon.”

Wyatt quickly calculated his options. If he insisted on taking all eight, Evans Grove would fight him. The new parents would fight him. That orphan society might fight him. He could lose all eight and the rest of his fee. Better to settle for something.

He stared down the mayor. “But only four are now placed.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “At this moment, but as I said—”

“The four can stay.”

Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“The four children who’ve already been taken can stay, but the rest go with me to Greenville tomorrow.”

The mayor raised herself to her full height, completely in control of her emotions, which at this moment indicated she would not budge one bit on this subject. “It is late, Mr. Reed. I suggest we continue this conversation tomorrow afternoon with the entire selection committee present.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow afternoon.” The woman’s firm command was beginning to irritate him. “The train passes the Evans Grove whistle-stop at noon. I’ll need to arrange in advance for the train to stop. Let’s make it a morning meeting. Say nine o’clock.”

Her smile faded, but just for an instant. “The committee members do have businesses to operate. One of the members, our schoolteacher Miss Sanders, will need to arrange for someone to watch her class. In truth, Mr. Reed, tomorrow evening would be best.”

He had to give her credit for quick thinking. She’d managed to push the time even later. At this rate, he wouldn’t be out of Evans Grove until Saturday.

He pushed back. “Ten o’clock, Mayor. In the morning. No later. I expect to put those children on the noon train to Greenville tomorrow. Miss Sterling may accompany them if she wishes.” It seemed a generous concession at this point.

“That is up to her,” the mayor said stiffly, “but I will convey your demands—and your offer—at once.”

He nodded, and picked up his hat. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mayor.”

“Ten o’clock, Mr. Reed.” Her words were tough, but she looked worried.

She should be. Wyatt Reed always got his man.

* * *

Even after feeding Sasha, Charlotte still quaked with fear. What could she do? Where could she go? Who would help her? Since Charles’s death, life had been filled with uncertainty, but never as much as right now.

She couldn’t lose Sasha. The little girl meant everything to her. But now Wyatt Reed was trying to take her away. She had to do something.

The sun’s waning rays illuminated the Bible sitting on the trestle table. Charlotte ran her fingers over the leather binding. God’s Word had brought her comfort in the past. It helped her understand the loss of her parents and Charles, but could it gird her for the loss of her daughter, too?

“Mama?” Sasha’s voice trembled, and Charlotte realized the little girl had seen her tears and was frightened.

She blinked away the moisture and folded her arms around Sasha. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”

Still, the girl shook, and a sob wrenched out.

Charlotte smoothed her hair. “Look at me, dearest.” When the girl finally lifted liquid eyes to her, she smiled with more confidence than she felt. “Everything will be fine. Understand? I love you, and I will always love you. You’re my little girl, my forever little girl.”

Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Charlotte hugged Sasha close and kissed her repeatedly until the trembling passed. She must do something to cheer Sasha.

Holding her at arm’s length, Charlotte asked, “Would you like a new doll?”

Sasha’s eyes brightened. Clearly, the promise of a doll had distracted the little girl. Charlotte pulled some blue muslin from the bottom of her trunk. “Won’t this make a pretty dress for her? She’ll have black hair, like you, and blue eyes. Would you like that?”

Sasha nodded vigorously and stretched out her hand for the fabric.

Charlotte almost told her to wait, but Sasha had waited for so much already—parents and love and a real family. And it could all be taken away tomorrow. Why make her wait for anything more?

She dug some more in the trunk and found her tattered old rag doll. “This is the doll I had when I was your age. You can play with her while I make your new one.”

Sasha hugged the ragged old doll.

Charlotte smiled to think Sasha could like something so misshapen. “Let’s think of a name for your new doll.”

“Katya.”

Charlotte wished she would have chosen a more common name like Katy or Katherine, but she supposed the girl couldn’t help but hang on to her Russian roots. Unfortunately, people like Beatrice Ward would frown on the foreign name and hold it against Sasha. But for now, it was better to please a little girl than a bitter old woman.

“What a pretty name. Katya it is.”

If only keeping Sasha could be handled so easily, but that man, Wyatt Reed, wanted to take her away. Moreover, she’d trusted him! How foolish. She should have known he was trouble from the start, but she’d been misled by his tenderness toward Sasha. How could a man who’d held Sasha so gently turn around and tear her and the other children from their homes?

A rap on the door startled her from her thoughts. Even Sasha swiveled in her chair, worry creasing her little brow.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Charlotte said, forcing a smile, but all she could think about were Wyatt’s words. He’d come to take away the children. Was he here now?

Her heart pounded as she grasped the door handle. What could she say to persuade him to leave Sasha with her?

“Charlotte, it’s me,” said a female voice on the other side of the door. “Holly.”

Holly? Relief coursed through her until she remembered that Holly should be with Mason tonight. Something must have come up. Maybe she wanted to help Charlotte tonight instead of Saturday.

She opened the door. “I can’t sort through Charles’s things tonight.”

Holly shook her head and motioned for Charlotte to step outside. “There’s news.”

Judging from the distress on her face, Charlotte knew what that news was. She closed the door behind her.

“This man came from Greenville to take away the orphans,” Holly said breathlessly.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“We met already.” Charlotte swallowed hard. How could she have misjudged the man so badly? Worse, she’d led him straight to the mayor. “I overheard him talking to Pauline.”

Holly drew in a shaky breath. “Then you know that Liam would have to leave.” She choked. “Oh, Charlotte, I can’t lose him. Mason can’t lose him. We...we love him.”

Charlotte wrapped her arms around her friend, marveling that they found themselves in a similar situation. In the past couple weeks, they’d both come to love a child. Holly adored Liam, and Sasha had claimed Charlotte’s heart.

“I know, I know. I can’t bear to lose Sasha, either.” Charlotte fought back tears of her own. “What will we do?”

“We’ll fight.” Determination fired Holly. “The mayor had Rebecca cable the Orphan Salvation Society office. Then she called an emergency town meeting for first thing in the morning. Nine o’clock. She told the Greenville man to come at ten o’clock. By then we’ll have figured out what to do.” She squeezed Charlotte’s hands. “Pauline is on our side. She won’t let anyone take away our children.”

That anyone meant Wyatt Reed. Charlotte felt sick that she’d trusted him.

Holly let go of Charlotte’s hands and dashed toward the street. “I have to tell the Hutchinsons, the Hollands and the Regans. We’ll win this, Charlotte. With Mayor Evans in the lead, we’re bound to win.”

As Holly flew off into the night, Charlotte hugged her arms against the chill wind. She hoped Holly was right, but hope alone wouldn’t do it.

She cast a prayer high into the star-filled sky. Lord, You love all Your children. Be with us tomorrow. Show us the way to keep Sasha and Liam and all the children here where they’re loved. We’re counting on You.

In the meantime, Charlotte would do all she could to stop Wyatt Reed.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Wyatt sat in the hotel dining room eating breakfast and waiting for the ten o’clock meeting. From his seat at the window, he could see people scurrying through the grove of hackberry trees toward the town hall. He checked his pocket watch. A quarter to nine. Something was afoot, and he wouldn’t put it past Madam Mayor to work some shenanigans ahead of the scheduled meeting.