The Dreammaker

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Copyright

Kaitlin tightened her grip on the broom.

“Have you changed your mind? Do you want to back out?”

“No, I’m not backing out. I’m fixing up the place. I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Can’t you at least be pleasant in the process?”

Tripp rolled his eyes. “It’s not enough for you that I’m doing it? I have to like it, too?”

Kaitlin swung the broom at him, swatting him squarely on the chest. “Yes! Yes, you have to like it!”

Tripp fell back a step, stunned.

She advanced on him, clenching the broom in her fist. “Yes, you have to like it, Tripp Callihan! This is my life you’re a part of now, and I won’t have you griping, moaning and complaining about everything. Life’s hard enough without your own partner dragging you down! Do you understand me?”

He understood, all right. Better than Kaitlin Jeffers would ever imagine…

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Harlequin Historicals—stories that will capture your heart with unforgettable characters and the timeless fantasy of falling in love!

Rising talent Judith Stacy is back this month with The Dreammaker, set in 1880s Nevada. Known for her light, feel-good stories, Judith has again written a tale about family and finding oneself—and love—along the way. Here, two very different people, a single father and an aspiring actress, are swindled by the same man and become business partners to recoup their losses and realize their dreams. Ironically, love—the dream of a lifetime—is right in front of them!

Award-winning author Gayle Wilson returns with a mesmerizing Regency-style romance, Lady Sarah’s Son, about sweethearts, torn apart by tragedy, who reunite in a marriage of convenience and can no longer deny their enduring love…In The Hidden Heart, a terrific medieval tale by Sharon Schulze, a beautiful noblewoman must guard her heart from the only man she has ever loved—the Earl of Wynfield, who has returned to her keep on a dangerous secret mission. And don’t miss Cooper’s Wife by rising talent Jillian Hart, a heartwarming Western about single parents—a sheriff and a troubled widow—who marry to protect their kids, and find true love.

Enjoy! And come back again next month for four more choices of the best in historical romance.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell, Senior Editor

P.S. We’d love to hear what you think about Harlequin Historicals! Drop us a line at:

Harlequin Historicals

300 E. 42nd Street, 6th Floor

New York, NY 10017

The Dreammaker

Judith Stacy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUDITH STACY

began writing as a personal challenge and found it a perfect outlet for all those thoughts and ideas bouncing around in her head. She chose romance because of the emotional involvement with the characters, and historicals for her love of bygone days.

Judith has been married to her high school sweetheart for over two decades and has two daughters. When not writing, she haunts museums, historical homes and antique stores, gathering ideas for new adventures set in the past.

To Judy and Stacy, who keep me grounded To David, who gives me wings

Chapter One

Nevada, 1884

Every conception should be this delightful.

Kaitlin Jeffers turned sideways, studying her round belly in the big oval mirror. She stretched out her arms and rested her palms on the bulge. Goodness, she could hardly reach all the way around.

A wide grin parted her lips. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Kaitlin faced the mirror making sure the folds of her black dress hung straight. She looked down to be certain the hem touched the tops of her kid shoes, and laughed aloud. was her big stomach.

Looking up, she saw her reflection in the mirror and forced the smile from her face. She’d have to remember not to make that mistake again. Maybe she should have rehearsed more.

A metal key scraped in the door behind her, and in the mirror she saw Isabelle Langley walk into their hotel room. Tall and thin, her friend was even more a contrast to her now.

Kaitlin turned sideways and dropped her hands onto her belly. “Come to admire your brother’s handiwork?”

Isabelle’s eyes widened and she fell back against the closed door. “Saints alive, Kaitlin, I can’t believe you!”

Kaitlin’s smile broadened and she wiggled back and forth. “Looks good, huh?”

“It looks horrible!” Isabelle sheltered her eyes, then drew in a breath and looked at her again. “I can’t believe my brother let you talk him into this.”

She patted her round belly affectionately. “He does good work, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re disgusting.” Isabelle tossed her armload of packages onto the brass bed. “I found a bonnet like you asked for in a millinery shop down the street—it’s the ugliest one in this whole town. Of course, there’s not much here to choose from.”

“And just as well.” Kaitlin turned back to the mirror and tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. “The smaller the town, the better. We need to be in and out of this place quickly.”

Isabelle unpinned her hat. “Please, Kaitlin, think this over. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Kaitlin sighed impatiently. “You promised you wouldn’t nag if I let you come along.”

“You don’t know what might happen. You don’t know these people. What if they toss you in jail?”

Kaitlin planted her hands on her hips. “Who in their right mind would throw a woman in my condition in jail?”

“You don’t have a condition!”

She bounced her fists off her belly. “Yes, I do.”

“I’m going to kill my brother.” Isabelle shook her head slowly. “He’d better stick to harness making from now on.”

“Leave him out of this. He only did what I asked. And did it very well, I might add.” Kaitlin leaned her shoulder closer to her friend. “You can’t see the straps, can you?”

Isabelle glared at her, then walked over. “No.”

“How about in the back?” Kaitlin turned around.

“No.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Good.” Kaitlin turned and lifted the bulk of her belly higher. She frowned. “This might be uncomfortable, if I were really pregnant.”

Isabelle moaned and covered her face with her hands. “Kaitlin, please don’t do this. You can’t go around pretending to be pregnant. Somebody will find out.”

“No one will find out. We’ve never been to this town before—neither of us. No one recognized us on the stage this morning, or when we checked-in. We’ll be out of here on the afternoon stage. What can go wrong?”

“A thousand things!”

Kaitlin drew in a determined breath. “That crook Harvey Stutz stole every dime I had in this world. Tricked me out of it, and waltzed away with a big smile on his face. I’m getting it back—no matter what I have to do.”

“But Kaitlin—”

“You know what I’d been saving that money for.”

Isabelle’s shoulders sagged. “Yes, I know.”

“Harvey Stutz stole my dream.”

She nodded sorrowfully. “I know.”

“He pretended he liked me, pretended he cared about me, until I told him about all the money I’d saved. Then he broke into my room and took every cent.” Kaitlin squared her shoulders. “Well, he’s dead now, and if it means pretending to be his pregnant widow to get back what belongs to me, then so be it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Now, help me get ready.”

Isabelle pried open the hat box she’d tossed on the feather mattress and took out the black, straw bonnet. “Try this on.”

Kaitlin winced. “It’s ugly, all right.”

She turned to the mirror and pinned the hat in place, then lowered the thin black veil over her face. The hat was a trifle too big, and that made her look small and vulnerable; her stomach bulging beneath the black dress completed the effect.

“How do I look?” She turned to Isabelle.

“Awful.”

“Good.” Kaitlin drew in a deep breath. “Well, I’m going now. The sheriff is expecting me.”

“Do you have everything?”

Kaitlin held up her left hand displaying her mother’s gold wedding band, then patted her stomach. “Ring and baby. That’s all I need.”

“Are you sure you remember your story?”

“Of course. My dear husband Harvey—the rat—and I were married some time ago. I knew little about him, except that he traveled a great deal. When I read his obituary in the newspaper I was devastated, of course. So, here I am to collect his belongings. What could be simpler than that?”

“What if the sheriff doesn’t believe you?”

Kaitlin wagged her finger at Isabelle. “Are you doubting my acting abilities?”

“But what if there really is a Mrs. Harvey Stutz?”

“He’s been dead over a month now. Any legitimate wife would have already come forward—if there’s a woman out there stupid enough to have actually married a crook like him.” Kaitlin nodded confidently. “And, if one should show up, I’ll just be devastated that Harvey married me too, and run crying from the sheriff’s office.”

“Well, I guess you’ve thought of everything.”

“Don’t worry.” Kaitlin patted her belly. “Junior and I will be back within the hour, then we’ll be on our way home.”

Isabelle wrung her hands. “Just be careful.”

Kaitlin left the hotel room ready to give the performance of a lifetime. She’d learned about performing, mostly from her mother. But then Harvey Stutz had come along and taught her what it could really mean, what it could lead to. Harvey, who used his own acting talents to con unsuspecting, young women out of their money. Even now, it galled Kaitlin that she’d been so gullible.

In the hallway she made certain no other hotel guests were about, then hurried down the stairs to the lobby. The young man behind the desk was busy with a couple and their three fidgeting children and didn’t even look her way as she crept out the front door.

The noon sun brightened everything, even from behind her black veil. Horses, wagons and carriages crowded the dirt street, pedestrians moved slowly along the boardwalk.

Odd, but everyone seemed to get out of her way, stepping aside, giving her plenty of room to pass. Men she didn’t know tipped their hats. Kaitlin thought her black mourning dress was the reason, then realized every man she passed gazed at her belly first before looking at her veiled face. Decidedly uncomfortable, Kaitlin hurried to the sheriffs office down the block and went inside.

The place smelled of coffee and gun oil. Across the small office sat a desk cluttered with papers. Rifles hung in racks on the walls flanked by Wanted posters. A dark corridor allowed Kaitlin a glimpse of iron bars. She shuddered, Isabelle’s dire warnings coming back to her.

“Help you, ma’am?”

The deep voice from the opposite side of the room startled her. She jumped as she saw two men standing at the potbellied stove in the corner, and touched her hand to her bulging stomach.

“Take it easy now, ma’am.”

A man—his gaze glued to her belly—hurried over. Gray hair showed below the brim of his hat and a badge hung on his vest. He cupped her elbow.

“Just come have a seat, ma’am. Don’t get yourself all upset. Doc’s out of town and we don’t want no surprises.”

The sheriff led her to the chair in front of his desk. “Get some water over here for the lady, will you Callihan?”

Kaitlin plopped into the chair, her huge belly bulging out in front of her. She shifted awkwardly. Mercy, this thing was uncomfortable.

“You want to put your feet up? My missus, she always wanted to put her feet up,” the sheriff said.

Kaitlin nearly gasped aloud. Good grief, if she raised her feet she’d surely tumble backward out of the chair.

“No, thank you, Sheriff.”

“You just take it easy. Callihan, get that water over here, will you? Ma’am, you want me to get Mrs. Neff from next door? She’s birthed a bunch of young’uns herself. I’ll go get her. She’s right next door.”

Kaitlin nearly panicked. That was the last thing she needed. “I’m fine, Sheriff, really. Thank you.”

“Here, just drink some water. Callihan, give her the water.”

The other man stepped to her side. She sensed him before she actually saw him, a forceful, masculine presence. Slowly she lifted her gaze. Long legs, lean hips, a broad chest covered in black. A strong jaw, lips set in a thin line, a straight nose. Eyes, blue as the ocean. A black hat pulled low on his forehead.

Kaitlin’s mouth sagged open as her heart pounded its way into her throat. Breath left her in a sickly wheeze.

“Here.”

He shoved the tin cup at her. Kaitlin gulped and reached for it. Their fingers brushed. For an instant they both hung there, their gazes locked. Then he turned quickly and walked to the opposite side of the desk.

Kaitlin lifted the veil off her face wishing she could dump the water down her bodice to cool the strange heat that enveloped her. Instead, she sipped slowly.

“You feeling better, ma’am?” the sheriff asked.

She cleared her throat and set the cup aside. “Yes, Sheriff, thank you.”

“Good.” He dragged his sleeve across his forehead. “I guess you must be Mrs. Stutz?”

“Who?”

The sheriff frowned. “Harvey Stutz’s widow.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I am.” Kaitlin glanced at the man in the corner and shifted in her chair. She lowered her eyes demurely. “Yes, dear Harvey was my husband.”

The sheriff touched his finger to the brim of his hat. “Real sorry about your loss, Mrs. Stutz. Real sorry.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind.”

“Well, let’s get on with this.” He bustled around his desk. “I’m Sheriff Newell and this here is Mr. Callihan. Tripp Callihan.”

Kaitlin dared lift her gaze to the man in the corner. He was already watching her and spared her no more than a brief nod.

Who was this man? Kaitlin looked away, but felt the heat of his gaze burning into her face. Was he a deputy? He had no badge pinned to his chest. Surely not a criminal, walking freely in the sheriffs office, but Mr. Tripp Callihan had a dangerous look about him, just the same.

Kaitlin forced her gaze away from him. “I understand, Sheriff, that you have my husband’s belongings.”

Sheriff Newell cleared his throat and glanced at Tripp. “Well, yeah, I do. But there’s a little problem, Mrs. Stutz. You see, Mr. Callihan read my notice in the paper and came to town just like you. He’s put in a claim on your husband’s things, too.”

Kaitlin’s back stiffened. So that’s why he was’ here. She hadn’t counted on this. And she didn’t know if that meant Tripp Callihan was Harvey Stutz’s partner in crime, or another one of his victims.

She touched her hand to her forehead. “I—I don’t understand.”

“It seems Mr. Callihan here had some…dealings…with your husband.”

The realization of Callihan’s purpose in the sheriff’s office caused Kaitlin’s spine to tingle. Harvey Stutz had conned him, too. Callihan was a victim, the same as she.

From the corner of her eye, Kaitlin glanced at Tripp Callihan. What had Harvey Stutz taken from him? Money? A dream? A dream like the one he stole from her when he’d taken her life savings?

Kaitlin drew in a determined breath. Whatever Harvey Stutz had taken, Tripp Callihan had a better opportunity of getting it back than she did. Right here, right now was Kaitlin’s only chance.

She gasped and clutched her belly. “Oh, dear.”

The sheriff’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing serious…probably.” Kaitlin drew in a ragged breath. “Now, you were saying?”

Sheriff Newell shifted uncomfortably. “Tell me, ma’am, do you know what your husband did for a living…exactly?”

“Certainly.” Kaitlin blinked up at him. “Harvey was a salesman.”

The sheriff and Tripp exchanged a troubled look.

Kaitlin smiled innocently. “We weren’t married very long, but my Harvey was always off working as hard as he could, providing for me and our child.” She caressed her belly. “Why do you ask, sheriff?”

“No reason, ma’am. No reason.”

Kaitlin gazed at Tripp. “Is that how you knew my husband, Mr. Callihan? Were you two business partners?”

He hung his thumbs in his gun belt. “Not exactly.”

“Well, the fact is, Mrs. Stutz, that it’s up to me to decide on who gets what. With both you and Mr. Callihan here filing a claim, well, I—”

“Ohhh…” Kaitlin pushed herself out of the chair, bracing her hand at the small of her back.

Sheriff Newell jumped. “Maybe I ought to go get Mrs. Neff.”

“No, no. I don’t want to be a bother.” Kaitlin smiled bravely. “It will help if I stand a while…maybe.”

“You want some more water?”

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all. It was a long journey here, and not very comfortable on the stage. So much time alone to…think.” Kaitlin pulled a lace handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and pressed it to the corner of her eye. “The memories, you know. So many memories. I’ve no other family. Did I tell you that?”

Sheriff Newell shook his head. “No ma’am, you didn’t.”

Kaitlin sniffed and patted her belly. “It’s just me and Little Harvey here. I’m trying to preserve all I can for him, so he’ll know his pa in some small way.”

“That’s good of you, ma’am.”

She sniffed again and dabbed at her eyes. “Could we get on with this, please, Sheriff?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sheriff Newell opened his desk drawer and withdrew a small sack. “This here’s everything your husband had on him when he died. And since you’re his only rightful kin, Mrs. Stutz, I guess it all belongs to you.”

Kaitlin nearly kicked up her heels, but forced herself to lower her eyes. “You’re so kind.”

“Hold on a minute.” Tripp advanced on the sheriff. “I’ve got a claim on Stutz’s belongings, too.”

“For heaven’s sake, Callihan, can’t you see she’s his wife? And with a young’un on the way, too? What kind of a man are you, trying to take away from a widow and orphan?”

He flung his hand at Kaitlin. “What proof has she got?”

Sheriff Newell sucked his gum. “Well, you’ve got a good point there. How about it, Mrs. Stutz? You got a marriage license or something?”

Kaitlin pressed the handkerchief to her lips to hold in the curses burning her tongue. Darn that Tripp Callihan, he was ruining everything.

She clutched the handkerchief to her chest. “It was lost in the fire. Didn’t you know? No, of course you had no way of knowing. Our home—our little love nest, Harvey called it—burned to the ground right after he died.”

“Well, mercy ma’am, you’ve had your share of hardship, that’s for sure.”

Tripp snorted his disbelief. “Sheriff, you’re not going to fall for—”

“Hush up, Callihan. I’m the law in this town, and I say this here little lady deserves Harvey Stutz’s belongings. Besides, you’ve got no proof of your claim, either.” Sheriff Newell straightened his shoulders. “Believe me, if I thought for one second that she was lying, she’d be seeing the inside of my jail cells quick as a wink. Same goes for you, Callihan.”

Kaitlin gulped and pressed the handkerchief to her lips.

Sheriff Newell grunted. “Hell, maybe I ought to just give everything to the church.”

Tripp clamped his jaw shut and walked back to the corner.

“Now, let’s get this over with. I’m getting hungry for my supper. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, anyway. Harvey Stutz didn’t leave enough for anybody to be fighting over.” The sheriff pulled an envelope from the sack and handed it across the desk to Kaitlin. “There’s some money.”

Kaitlin’s heart lurched. “Cash?”

“Not much, but something to tide you over for a while.”

“Oh…”

“And a deed to some property over in Porter.”

Kaitlin eyed the envelope. “Property? What sort of property?”

The sheriff shook his head. “Don’t know. Didn’t look.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, yeah. Except for this.” He pulled a gold locket from the sack. “Looks like a family piece. I guess that’s what you’re looking for, huh? You don’t want those family things to get away.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Tripp tense as she took the locket from the sheriff. She ignored him. “It’s been passed down for generations. I want Little Harvey to have it when he gets grown.”

The sheriff dusted his hands together. “Well, that’s about it.”

Kaitlin felt Tripp’s hot gaze on her as she dropped the envelope and locket into the sack.

“Thank you for everything, Sheriff Newell. Goodbye.” Kaitlin headed for the door. Such a performance. Her mother would have been proud.

“Not so fast.” Sheriff Newell blocked her path. “There’s one more matter we need to get cleared up before you leave here.”

“A memorial service?”

“Yes, a memorial service.” Kaitlin pulled her wrapper closed over her chemise and pantalettes, and yanked the sash tight. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the eyelet curtains on the window, brightening the hotel room. “For my dear departed. The Sheriff thinks it’s what I want. It’s set for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow!” Isabelle waved her arms wildly. “But we’re supposed to leave tonight! Tonight, Kaitlin, tonight! Miss Purtle will fire me if I’m not at work in her shop first thing tomorrow morning. She’ll fire me!”

“Don’t worry.” Kaitlin pulled the pins from her hair and shook her head, sending her thick tresses curling down her back. “You’ll leave this afternoon on the stage, just as we planned, and tomorrow after the service, I’ll leave too.”

“No, Kaitlin.” Isabelle shook her head frantically. “It’s dangerous. Somebody will figure out what you’re up to.”

Kaitlin dropped her hairpins on the washstand. “What else can I do? Tell the sheriff I don’t want a service for dear ol’ Harvey?”

“Let’s just sneak away. He probably wouldn’t recognize you, even if he saw you get on the stage.”

“And what if he does?” Kaitlin asked. She wouldn’t take the chance that the sheriff might give Stutz’s belongings to that Mr. Callihan, or turn it over to the church.

“Kaitlin, please, come with me—”

“No. It’s all settled. When you leave the hotel, pay for another night and asked them to send up a tray for me. I’ll stay here in the room until tomorrow and catch the midday stage after the service. What can go wrong?”

“A thousand things!”

Kaitlin picked up Isabelle’s carpetbag from the bed. “You’d better go before you miss the stage.”