Bride By Arrangement

An errand he wasn’t about to put off until tomorrow.

* * *

During the ride into town, Noah nursed his temper, the torturous meal replaying in his mind. His self-consciousness about his scar had trumped all else. Seated directly across from him, the widow had had a clear view. There’d been nowhere to hide. So he’d ducked his head, tucked into his meal and done his best to ignore his uninvited guests.

Undulating fields gave way to the town proper. As his homestead was situated west of Cowboy Creek, he didn’t have to traverse the main thoroughfare to reach Will and Tomasina’s place. He traveled up Third Street. A handful of clapboard houses were interspersed between the businesses. Not as crowded in this section, but there was still a fair amount of activity as men went about their daily routines.

On his right, a reed-thin man wearing an apron was in his shop’s entrance sweeping out debris. “Howdy, Sheriff!”

Seconds passed before Noah realized the man was addressing him. You’re the sheriff now, remember? Folks normally didn’t initiate conversation. They treated him with wary respect.

He belatedly touched a finger to his brim. The man’s gaze slipped to Wolf trailing behind and, smile slipping, he turned and reentered his shop.

Similar exchanges were repeated as he proceeded along the dusty street. By the time Will’s manor came into view, Noah’s hand was tired from all the waving. He hadn’t pursued this position. He’d been asked to fill Quincy Davis’s spot after that man’s untimely death. Some said it was because he was one of the founding members, and they trusted him to do right by the townsfolk. Noah suspected it had more to do with the wild tales of his battlefield exploits that circulated about town. He didn’t consider himself a hero. Sure, he’d had to work hard to dispel the stigma of his Southern roots, to prove he was committed to the Union’s cause, but he hadn’t done anything to warrant the label of hero.

And while committed to keeping Cowboy Creek safe, he wasn’t prepared to involve himself in the social goings-on.

Guiding his sorrel onto Will’s property, they followed the grass-flattened path made by wagon deliveries. His friend’s new home was about 90 percent complete and promised to be a stunning testament to Will’s success. The front facade was designed to impress. Thick white columns supported a rounded rotunda high above. Arched windows lined the bottom floor, while the second-floor windows were rectangular in shape. Behind the columns and above the front entryway was a stone balcony. Open porches flanked both ends of the central structure.

The sounds of hammers and men calling to each other greeted him. The newlywed couple, who’d spent their first few days as husband and wife on the trail of outlaws, had decided to move in before the house was complete. Noah didn’t blame them. A hotel suite wasn’t the place to begin their new life together.

Still, the constant activity had to be irksome at times.

When no one answered his summons, he stalked around the perimeter to where workmen were busy attaching pale-hued brick to the rear wall. Scaffolding covered the entire structure like a wooden spine. Behind the house, the lush, tree-dotted lot backed up to the church, its spire reaching for the blue expanse above.

Noah scanned the milling workers. They cast wary glances at him and Wolf. Ignoring them, he spotted his quarry standing apart from the activity. Slightly taller than the other men, Will tended to be the finest-dressed gentleman around, his short brown hair covered by a smart derby hat. The silver-handled cane he was rarely without had been imported from Italy and was rumored to contain either a hidden blade or gun. Will had injured his leg in the same battle Noah had suffered his accident. He’d come close to being forced to having it amputated. Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, Will had chosen to forego surgery and wait and see if the wound healed. The risk had paid off. With the cane, his limp was hardly noticeable.

Skirting a platform of bricks, Noah picked his way through the construction site. Will was in deep conversation with Gideon Kendricks, the Union Pacific’s representative, in town to sell railroad stocks.

Gideon noticed his advance first and lifted his hand in a wave. Like Noah, the man hadn’t changed out of his trail-dusted gear following their unsuccessful search. Will, on the other hand, had taken the time to clean up.

“Noah.” Will’s smile was rueful, but his brown eyes lacked contrition. “I’ve been expecting you.” He nodded at Noah’s companion. “Good day, Wolf.”

His forehead pounded. “I would’ve been here sooner, but there was a complication.”

Will looked intrigued. “What sort of complication?”

Noah cut his gaze toward Gideon. While he’d grown to like the newcomer, he didn’t want to air his business in front of him. “I think you’ll agree it’s a private matter.”

Gideon smoothed a hand over his dirty-blond locks. “I’ll take my leave.”

“Wait.” Will put a hand up. “Before you do, I believe Noah would be interested in hearing the latest news.”

“What’s that?”

“We’ve had word that Cowboy Creek is being considered for the county seat. A Webster County representative is coming to tour the town before deciding if we’ll be in the running.”

Gideon let loose a low whistle. “Sure would be a boon for your town.”

“The temporary seat is in Ellsworth,” Noah said, distracted from his purpose. “You know as well as I do they have the advantage.”

“Their population has stalled in recent years.” Will rested his weight on the silver handle. “Now that we’re a prime destination for drovers and their longhorns, we’re poised to expand our numbers significantly. If we’re chosen, think of the tax benefits.”

“A courthouse would be built here,” Gideon added.

“What about crime? If the rep learns of our recent mishaps and our failure to discover the perpetrators, he’ll move on to another terminus town.”

“You’re the new sheriff. Surely between you, Daniel and I, we can figure this out.”

“I’ll be glad to assist, as well.” Gideon’s gray eyes were serious.

“I never did thank you for joining the posse,” Noah told him. Gideon wasn’t a permanent resident and, as far as he knew, had no plans to become one. His loyalty was to himself and his employer, but he’d volunteered to help in their time of need.

The gentleman lifted a shoulder. “I don’t like seeing good, honest people robbed of their money. I’m just sorry we didn’t catch up to the scoundrels.”

A sigh gusted out of Noah. “I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid they’ll come back for more.”

“If that’s the case, I hope to be here when they do. They won’t be so fortunate next time.” Extending his hand, Gideon said, “I’ll leave you both to your private discussion.” A smile flashed as he shook their hands.

Noah remained silent until he was out of earshot.

Will lifted his cane toward the trees and grassy knolls. “Let’s walk.”

“Good idea, Captain,” Noah quipped, deliberately meaning to irk the other man. Will hated any and all references to the war, refused to discuss the battle that had left him with a permanent limp. “Wouldn’t want your employees to witness what’s coming to you.”

He grimaced but didn’t voice his displeasure. “Simon told me about your mail-order bride and her daughters. To my credit, I didn’t know about the children. Mrs. Miller didn’t mention them in her letters. What do you think of her? Is she acceptable in the looks department? I’ve heard some ladies have the tendency to embellish facts.”

Noah took his attention off the ground and glared at his friend. “How could you do it, Will? I told the two of you that I wasn’t interested. I came home this afternoon and almost blasted the woman with my weapon!”

Will stopped and studied Noah with a smirk. “Not the best way to welcome a lady into your home, Noah.”

“I want her gone.”

The church bell chimed the six-o’clock hour. The clanging startled the meadowlarks in the slender oak nearest them. He watched them take flight.

“We simply wanted you to have what we have. Now that Daniel and I have found love, we don’t want you to be alone.”

“You don’t see how arrogant that is?” His hand sliced the air. “To think you could pluck a random female from a mail-order-bride catalog and I would automatically fall in love with her?”

“Perhaps love was a poor choice of words. You could do with companionship though, Noah.” Will’s dark brown eyes were earnest. “The reason we took matters into our own hands is you’re too stubborn to admit you’re lonely. You don’t want to end up like Gus and Old Horace, do you?”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of the town busybodies, who spent most every warm day with their bottoms glued to the mercantile’s porch chairs, scrutinizing the townsfolk’s comings and goings.

“If I do, that’s my business. Not yours.” Absent-mindedly exploring the uneven texture of his neck with his fingertips, he scuffed the ground with his boot heel.

Will plunged his fingers into his hair, an unusual show of impatience. “This preoccupation you have with your disfigurement is exasperating, you know that? So you’re not perfect. So what? Neither am I.” He motioned up and down his bum leg. “No one is. Sure, some women might be put off. Vain, shallow women. But there are some who wouldn’t give it a second thought.”

A multitude of emotions boiled inside him. Will clearly wasn’t going to admit he was wrong. Spinning on his heel, Noah stalked in the direction they’d come, leaving the other man to gape after him.

“Noah! Hold on!”

Not slowing, he pressed his lips together, afraid to speak. Afraid he’d utter something foul and damaging. Perhaps something he might not be able to take back.

“We can sort this out.”

He did halt then, tossing over his shoulder, “The complication I told you about? One of her daughters is ill. As soon as she’s recovered, the three of them will be removing to your best suite. I’ll have the bill sent to you.”

Continuing on, he’d reached the work site when he caught sight of bright red curls. Tomasina waved and smiled in welcome. He managed to corral his upset long enough to tip his hat and nod in greeting.

“Noah. I didn’t realize you’d stopped by.” Her vivid green gaze slipped past him and landed on her husband. The love and affection shining there increased his upset. “Come inside for coffee.”

Will caught up to them. Giving Noah a wide berth, he moved beside Tomasina and curved an arm about her waist, tugging her close. “Do as the lady says, my friend. We have more to discuss.”

He’d observed their tendency to stick close by each other during the search for the Murdochs. As a former cattle driver and rodeo star, it hadn’t been all that unusual for Tomasina to accompany them. Besides, she wasn’t the type to stay home and miss out on the action. Good thing Will acknowledged that fact.

“Maybe another time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said with a saucy grin.

He made his way to where his horse grazed, Wolf loping behind him. He was happy that his friends had found their perfect mates, but he wasn’t meant to have what they had. It wasn’t just his scars, either. The breach with his family and the atrocities of war had hardened him. Noah didn’t have it in him to please a woman.

Sooner or later, his friends were going to have to accept that.

Chapter Four

“This is our first night in our new home.” Jane exuded excitement. “May we explore the ranch tomorrow?”

Praying for wisdom, Grace removed Noah’s wool blanket from the bed and replaced it with a cheery quilt from her trunk. Pinwheels of yellow, purple and green spun against an ivory backdrop. The colors brightened the room.

“Perhaps. We’ll have to wait and see how your sister is feeling.”

“I’d like to see the chickens.” She traced a pinwheel with her finger, her blue eyes dancing with anticipation. Eyes very much like her father’s. “And the pigs. I wonder if Mr. Burgess has rabbits.”

A curious child, Jane had an affinity for learning. In the estate’s library, she’d spent hours scouring encyclopedias and nature tomes. The Kansas prairie must surely have captured her imagination.

Curling on her side, Jane tucked one hand beneath her cheek. “Where’s Mr. Burgess going to sleep, Momma?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She dimmed the lamp’s flame. Shadows flickered in the room’s corners. “We’ll figure something out.”

During his absence, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d peeked into the loft. There wasn’t a bed, unfortunately. Only a desk and chair, and wall-mounted shelves with books and cabinets with closed doors. The cabin lacked a sofa, so that wasn’t an option.

“Are you ready to say your prayers?”

Yawning widely, Jane nodded. Grace began to kneel beside the bed before recalling this wasn’t her bedroom suite in Chicago and there wasn’t a plush rug to cushion her knees. The floor here was bare and in need of a good scrubbing. Perching on the mattress edge, she placed one hand on Jane and the other on Abigail.

“I’m going to pray for Abby.”

“That’s a wise idea.”

During her heartfelt prayer, Grace couldn’t take her gaze off her sick offspring. Abigail had rested fitfully throughout the evening. Even gotten sick once in a pail Grace had thought to bring into the bedroom. Thankfully, the sheriff hadn’t been around to see it. He acted as if he’d never seen a child before.

His discomfiture during dinner had been obvious. There could be no question he wanted them gone at the first possible opportunity. Noah Burgess was a hard-nosed, implacable man. He wasn’t going to change his mind. She’d had the fleeting idea to offer him money in exchange for his name and protection, but she’d dismissed it. He wasn’t dumb. No ordinary mail-order bride would do such a thing.

The last thing she needed was to arouse a sheriff’s suspicion. She’d tried explaining Frank’s dastardly behavior to her mother-in-law, only to be ridiculed and accused of trying to make trouble. Helen Longstreet hadn’t approved of Grace marrying her eldest son and had hinted that she’d married him to access his wealth and societal connections. Helen had refused to believe her younger son, Frank, would want her, too. Grace had been tolerated by her husband’s mother and targeted by his brother.

Jane ended her petition with a sleepy “Amen,” and Grace realized her thoughts had strayed during the entire thing. Familiar guilt pinched her. Not only was she duping the sheriff and anyone else she might come into contact with, she’d had no choice but to instruct her girls to go along with her story. Surely that made her the worst mother of all time.

I’m sorry, God.

Her divine Father had carried her through many dark days, His comfort her sole source of strength when everyone around her had proved an enemy. He’d been a friend when she’d been friendless. Disappointing Him in this manner wore at Grace’s soul.

Lord, if he’d agree to marry me, I could make things right. Once we’ve been married a little while, I can reveal the truth.

The outer door clicked, and the floorboards resounded with a heavy tread. Grace’s pulse tripped nervously.

Leaning down, she dropped a kiss on Jane’s cheek. “Sleep well, my love.”

Already drifting, Jane wriggled deeper beneath the quilt. Grace extinguished the lamp. Closing the door behind her, she remained where she was, watching as Noah removed items from a sack and lined them up on the wooden counter.

He flicked her a glance. “How’s the sick one?”

“Her name is Abigail.”

His mouth tightening, he continued his task.

“She’s about the same.”

Holding up a sachet, he filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. “Elderberry tea will help with the fever.”

Surprised at his thoughtfulness, she advanced into the room, studying his efficient movements as he took kindling from a tin container in the corner and chucked it into the stove’s firebox. While waiting for the water to heat, he unpacked the remaining items and put them in their proper places. He set an enamel mug on the counter.

“You must be exhausted,” she said. “I can prepare the tea for Abigail.”

He gave her another considering glance that screamed dismissal. “You’re a guest in my home.”

In other words, it was his kitchen and she wasn’t welcome.

Grace tamped down her rising irritation. “I noticed we’ve taken over the only bed. And there’s no sofa.”

His arms folded across his broad chest, he kept his gaze trained on the kettle. “I’ll sleep in the barn.”

“With Wolf?”

He grunted.

“Where does he normally sleep?”

“By the fireplace.”

“So we’re not only displacing you, but your pet, as well.”

He pierced her with his cold blue gaze. “It’s temporary. I spoke to Will, and he’s committed to making your stay at the Cattleman a comfortable one. As soon as your daughter is well, I’ll check the train schedule for a return trip to Chicago.”

Grace bit the inside of her cheek. Arguing with him would get her nowhere. She had to use what little time she had to show him the many ways her presence would make his life easier. If she wanted to stay in Cowboy Creek, she had to make herself indispensable.

* * *

“Mighty thoughtful of you to bring me breakfast, Sheriff.”

Noah set his pail on Sheriff Davis’s desk—his desk now—and cocked a single brow in Deputy Buck Hanley’s direction. In his midtwenties, Hanley’s upbeat and sometimes flippant attitude initially had Noah questioning Davis’s decision to hire him. The more time he’d spent in his company, however, the more his positive traits became clear. Hanley was levelheaded and in possession of well-honed instincts vital for a lawman.

Noah balanced his battered Stetson on one of the chair’s upright slats and, adjusting his gun belt, sat and began to remove the pail’s items one by one. Wolf found a spot beside the desk to lounge in, his golden eyes assessing the lanky deputy.

While Hanley didn’t act afraid of Wolf, he didn’t approach him, either. His attempts to talk to the animal resulted in Wolf ignoring him.

Noah examined the row of cells to his left. Three cowboys were sprawled on cots, sleeping off the previous night’s excitement. A whiff of stale cigars and sweat assaulted his nose.

He tossed Wolf a sausage. “Busy night?”

Hanley nodded. “Yep. Broke up a fight on the south end of town shortly after midnight. These three weren’t keen on cooperating, so I offered them a place to sleep for the night.”

“Any property damage?”

“Nah.”

“Good work.”

Noah turned his attention to his breakfast, one he should’ve been enjoying at his own table, his grandfather’s Bible or a newspaper laid out in front of him. Instead, he was here, avoiding the widow and eager to be alone with his foul mood.

The younger man edged toward the door. “Well, I suppose I’ll go on home and rest up for tonight’s shift.”

He didn’t bother lifting his head. “You do that.”

The glass pane in the door rattled and Hanley’s footsteps faded. Sighing, Noah bit off half a boiled egg and offered the other half to Wolf. He surveyed the jail’s interior. He hadn’t spent much time here because his first days as sheriff had been spent chasing after the Murdochs. The interior boasted a high ceiling, rough-hewn walls decorated with maps, the American flag and wanted posters. Five cells lined the wall, facing the entrance door and windows flanking it, each with their own cot. The desk was made of oak and sported coffee-ring stains and a jagged gouge in the corner. He followed the gouge with his fingertip, wondering how it had gotten there, wondering how he had gotten here.

He should be tending his ranch and livestock. He’d never aspired to be a lawman. He’d experienced enough violence to last a lifetime. The war had altered him, not only his appearance, but his way of thinking. Mentally, he’d aged decades, his soul irreversibly tarnished by the atrocities he’d witnessed. He’d come to Kansas in search of a fresh start, away from the constant reminders of the state of their nation.

Abandoning his meal, he moved to the nearest window. The jail sat at the intersection of Eden and Second Street. At this early hour, the streets were mostly deserted. All was quiet in front of Will’s hotel, as well, the curtains at the windows drawn. A clerk swept the boardwalk in front of Booker & Son general store. Across the street, an elderly man was knocking on the doctor’s door.

Noah released a ragged breath. He was responsible for the residents of Cowboy Creek. The weight of that duty fully registered for the first time, and he almost lost his breakfast. His mind rebelled.

What had possessed him to accept the town leaders’ request? Had to have been a moment of insanity, that’s what.

An ungainly figure trundled around the corner, and Noah recognized the boot-maker’s wife, Opal Godwin. Her determined air gave him pause.

He met her at the door. “Mrs. Godwin. What can I do for you?”

She stood in the doorway, one hand supporting the huge mound of her belly, her squinty brown eyes darting between him, Wolf and the prisoners. “I have an issue to discuss with you, Sheriff Burgess. Do you have time now?”

Noah motioned to the bench pushed beneath the window he’d been stationed at a moment ago. “Let’s talk out here on the boardwalk.”

The sun’s rays slanted across their feet. The thick air indicated the day would be a muggy one. Opal carefully lowered herself onto the hard seat, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position. The woman was due to have that baby any day. He prayed today was not that day.

“My husband and I, along with the other affected shop owners, want to know what you plan to do about our falsified deeds. Our livelihood is in jeopardy, Sheriff.” Her severe hairstyle highlighted the shadows beneath her eyes. According to Daniel’s wife, Leah, a midwife who had been consulting with Opal, the young woman had endured a challenging pregnancy. “If you don’t fix this, we might lose our business. And then how would we provide for this baby?” Her voice wobbled, and through the unshed tears, he glimpsed expectation.

She and Amos, her husband, were counting on him to save their business. They all were.

His gut twisted.

Noah paced from the corner post to just past the jail entrance and back. The guns resting against either hip were heavy and cumbersome. He wasn’t used to carrying firearms, especially with the no-gun policy imposed within the town limits. But as the sheriff, he was Cowboy Creek’s appointed guardian. He had to be prepared to protect the residents, especially with the Murdoch gang running amok. Those scoundrels had already proved they were without conscience, going so far as to interrupt a church service and robbing the parishioners of their money and jewelry. He well remembered Leah’s unhappiness over the loss of her wedding band.

On top of the chaos the brothers had wreaked, Noah had inherited a whole host of other sticky issues from his predecessor—the mystery of the falsified store deeds being one of them. Opal herself had discovered the forgery. Without an authentic deed, the bank wouldn’t extend loans for new purchases.

“I’m going to review Sheriff Davis’s notes on the matter, then I’m going to interview everyone involved again. See if I can dredge up new information.”

She didn’t appear impressed. “Would you be willing to meet with the shop owners to discuss your plans to rectify this situation?”

“Of course.” He adopted a confidence he didn’t feel. “Give me three days to complete the interviews. We’ll meet at the Cattleman on Friday.”

Opal was quiet a long moment. Then, with a jerky nod, she struggled to her feet, waving off his extended hand. “I’ll pass the word along. I pray you’ll have more success than Sheriff Davis did.”

Noah watched her leave. He had some serious praying to do himself.

He spent the morning examining the contents of Davis’s desk. His notes about the shop deeds were pathetically brief. Noah paid the land office a visit. While the gentleman working there was willing to assist in the investigation and gave Noah access to the office paperwork, he didn’t have any useful information. Frustrated, Noah returned to the jail to find three cranky cowboys demanding water, food and their freedom. He listened to them whine for an hour before their fellow drovers arrived to pay the fine for disrupting the peace. Once they were gone, he made a list of all the shop owners he needed to interview. He stayed busy, yet the widow remained on the edge of his thoughts. He’d prepared enough breakfast for her and her daughters. But what would they do for lunch? Images of his cabin burning to the ground taunted him. No way did he want a mollycoddled socialite tampering with his kitchen.