Rose swallowed then closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. “Logan, I have to tell you—”
“I know, Rose,” Logan began, dipping the spoon into the bowl scooping more of the soup.
“No, you don’t.” Rose opened her eyes, tears brimming along the edges of her long lashes. “My name is Roseanne Duncan, not Abigail Johnson. I have no right to be mother to Lilly or wife to you. In fact—”
“Rose—”
“Please Logan, let me finish what I have to say.” Rose’s eyes pleaded with him, and he nodded for her to continue. Logan shuffled his chair closer to the bed, placing his free hand on her heart. They’d go through the story together joined by their flesh, hearts, and soul. Logan knew together they’d be able to get through anything. Good. Bad. Ugly. As long as they were all together—as a family.
“Logan, I’ve never been so scared of someone before. I worked for the Griswold’s for several years. Granted, they may not have been the ideal family, but Mrs. Griswold always showed me kindness. But that morning, when Mrs. Griswold lay at the bottom of the stairs…” Rose continued to tell her side of what the Pinkerton telegram meant. Logan squeezed her hand in anger as she described the threat her former employer, Atticus Griswold, bestowed upon her the morning she’d witnessed the “accident.” Her small, gentle hand trembled in his as she spoke of the fear of what Griswold insinuated he could do to her. How her friend Abby had given up her chance of “an adventure” by sending Rose in her place to marry Logan in name only and become a mother figure to Lilly.
She ended with how she’d found the trap door, had shoved Lilly down into it, and covered the child with her own body to protect her.
Tears flowing down both their cheeks, Logan pulled Rose into his arms, and they cried together. Cried out of sorrow for a senseless death. Cried for what Abby gave up to protect her friend. Cried for having survived what life—good and bad—had dealt them. Their tears saying more than words could ever express.
“Logan?” Gabe’s voice filtered through Logan’s grief. He wiped his face before turning to face the deputy marshal.
Logan knew what was coming. Gabe would have no choice but to do his duty as deputy marshal. Logan couldn’t fault him for it, but he sure as hell would fight him every inch of the way—right or wrong.
“Hi, Deputy Marshal Hawkins,” Rose greeted, her soft voice still weary from the ordeal.
“Mrs. Granger, it’s good to see you are finally awake. Now maybe this nitwit will eat something.” The smile on Gabe’s face didn’t reach his eyes. A rock slammed to the bottom of Logan’s stomach. He wasn’t going to like the reason for Gabe’s visit or what he had to say.
“This isn’t easy for me to say to either of you with all that’s happened.” Gabe fiddled with the brim of his hat, his eyes darting between them. “Until I can be sure of Rose’s safety, I want to put her in protective custody—at the jail.”
Logan sprung to his feet. “No way in hell is that going to happen!”
“Be reasonable, Logan. And before you say a word, I know you have some qualifications. I’d rather not take the chance of getting you involved or killed. It’s my job to handle Rose’s safety, not yours at this point.” Gabe stood firm behind his desk, his authoritative stance far from threatening to Logan. “Until I receive further word, Rose will need to stay here.”
“Reasonable? You want me to be reasonable when all you want to do is throw my wife in a cell?” Logan slammed his fist down on the desk, papers scattering onto the floor. “She’s not fully recovered, Gabe. Being in the cell will do her no good. It may hamper her full recovery. She needs to be home with Lilly and me, not in a cell.”
“Deputy Marshal Hawkins, I demand you put that criminal in a cell right this instant! Rose Granger, or whatever she’s calling herself, poses a danger to the law abiding citizens of Dodge City!” Montana Sue flounced through the door of the small office, nose in the air, the heels of her boots clicking loudly on the wooden floor.
Logan reached out, grabbing her by the arm, swinging her about until his face inches from hers. “If you think for one minute that you’ve got a snowball’s chance in the desert with me, you are sadly mistaken, Montana Sue,” Logan hissed, his face burning with rage. “I don’t now, nor have I ever, felt more than friendship toward you. Rose…is…my…wife!”
“That girl is no more your wife than, than…” Montana Sue stood in front of Logan, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “The woman is a con. She’s married you under a false name, making the marriage a sham. It’s not legal.” She turned to Gabe, her eyes daring him to defy her. “It’s your civic duty to toss her in a cell.”
“She’s right, Logan.” Rose stood leaning against the doorframe, her face awash with guilt. “I did deceive you, that’s true. I married you under a false name, as well as false pretenses.” Her eyes floated in a sea of tears, threatening to break shore any moment.
Logan stared at her in disbelief, his heart cracking into pieces. One thing was certain, Rose was not going to go anywhere without him. He loved her. He knew it in his heart and soul she loved him too. They didn’t need words when their hearts spoke volumes.
“Fine, lock me up with her. Where she goes, I go.” Logan crossed his arms, his posture stiff, daring Gabe to do it. To lock him up in a cell along with Rose. Logan said he would gladly go. He’d spend his days in that small space with her. Etta would look after Lilly, and stand fully behind his decision to join his wife in her hour of need. When his protest was over and Gabe released them both, they’d go home to salvage whatever was left of their home…and their marriage.
Rose hobbled over to a chair, sitting down slowly. “Deputy Marshal Hawkins, may we have a few moments—alone?”
“Of course,” Gabe grabbed his gun belt, strapping it around his hip. “Montana Sue, there’s no place for you here. Go back to the Lady Gay,” he ordered, taking hold of her elbow and pushing her toward the door.
“Well!” Montana Sue stomped out of the office, her skirts billowing behind her.
Gabe followed in her wake, closing the door behind him.
“Rose, please.” Logan knelt down next to her, his life ending before the words were spoken. “You’re innocent of any crime. A victim of circumstance. I know how it sounds. Cliché at best.” He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat. He’d sworn to protect her as his wife, and he was failing miserably. “I beg you, please don’t do this so easily. There isn’t a warrant, only a telegram asking, asking mind you, that Gabe put you under protective custody. It doesn’t say to put you in jail.”
Rose smiled, a hand gently caressing his cheek. “Logan, we both know the truth. Until Gabe receives word, he feels as deputy marshal that he has no recourse but to set me up here in a cell. He’s only doing his duty the only way he knows how. And you need to do yours as Lilly’s father. As much as this pains me, you need to find her a truthful woman who’ll love her as I do. Marry and forget about me. The two of you have suffered enough without having my running from a situation cause any more pain.” Rose sniffed, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Think of the impact this will have on Lilly.”
Logan opened then closed his mouth. He was at a loss for words. His chest tightened. His heart was ready to explode. He covered her hand with his, her skin tingling against his palm. They were both afraid. Afraid of saying the truth of their unlawful union. He wouldn’t have it!
“No, I’ll never marry another ever again. Rose, you’re my wife.”
Rose let her hand fall onto her lap, her slender fingers intertwined with the skirt of her dress. “No, no I’m not, Logan; not legally. We’ve been playing house like two children these past months. It’s time to grow up and do what is right by Lilly before we take it too far. Before—”
Rose stood slowly and drew in a deep breath. Logan’s gaze followed as she shuffled into a cell, the door clanging shut behind her. “Go and leave me. I’m not the woman for you, and certainly not a respectable mother for Lilly. It would bre
ak my heart to bring shame upon your good name.”
She turned her back on him. Every ounce of his life force flickered off and on.
“This isn’t over, Rose. I’ll get to the bottom of the accident, then we’ll be free to live as man and wife.” Logan vowed, stomping out of the marshal’s office.
From the cell window, Rose watched as Logan bounded around Dodge like a man possessed. First the telegraph office, then over to Etta May’s where he’d finally appeared with a saddlebag draped over his shoulder only to run across the street to the train depot.
Lilly was nowhere in sight. Rose prayed she was safe with Etta May, hopefully unaware of Rose being locked up, even if it was by her own insistence. She knew her situation would not stay hidden for long. Dodge City may be growing, but news still traveled at the speed of lightning. No secret worthy telling was safe.
The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe train whistled its arrival as it began its ascent into town. Rose’s breath hitched in her chest at the sight of Logan standing on the platform. The deputy marshal stood next to him as the two carried on in an animated conversation. Tears stung her eyes. Her heart ceased pumping life into her soul.
Logan was leaving town, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him. The train that brought her to Dodge City in the spring roared slowly up to the platform. In a twist of fate, it would be the very train to take the only man she would ever love away. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the engine pulled away from the platform, her words never reaching the man they were meant for.
“I love you, Logan Granger.”
Logan had all but run to the train depot for fear of missing his chance to board. After Rose had locked herself in one of the marshal’s jail cells, he’d checked the train schedule and found one leaving for Kansas City would be arriving within an hour. He’d had enough time for a quick telegram to the Chicago Pinkerton office, telling his boss of his intentions. He’d gone to Etta May’s asking her to watch Lilly, explaining he’d be back as soon as he could. While she’d packed him some jerky, biscuits, and salt pork, he sat Lilly down telling her that she might hear some awful lies about Rose. He explained how he was going to find the proof to clear her name. Lilly whimpered, then nodded her head, telling him she loved him and her momma. That she’d visit her each day until he returned. It broke his heart to leave his six-year-old with the task of letting Rose know how much she was loved and needed. He held Lilly for a moment, then gathered his warring emotions. Etta May handed him the saddlebag filled with provisions, and he’d jogged over to the depot as the train whistle announced its arrival.
He’d stood on the platform, arguing with Gabe Hawkins as the train screeched to a stop. Gabe pleaded with him to stay. That Logan would do no good running off to the Pinkerton office, leaving his daughter and Rose behind. But Logan locked the words from his brain. He’d go to Chicago and find out what the hell had happened in the Griswold household that Wisconsin morning. He’d told Etta May he’d be back within a month to fetch Lilly.
He’d had to explain to his six-year-old daughter that he was leaving, but only long enough to make sure Rose was safe. Lilly had swiped her tears from her face, given him a kiss and whispered in his ear, “Save Momma, Daddy.” It was all the encouragement he needed to dash any apprehension from his mind.
Being on this train going back to a place he’d thought he’d never return to may seem foolhardy to some, but Logan saw it as the only way to clear his wife’s good name. He didn’t care what happened to her before she came west. He didn’t give a damn what others thought of her. What mattered was how he cared for her. How his young daughter had warmed up to Rose enough to call her momma.
That he loved Rose Duncan with all his heart, and couldn’t imagine their life without her in it.
The landscape between Dodge City and Kansas City was nothing more than a blurred painting. He’d forgotten how uninviting this land was in comparison to the lushness of Illinois. How lifeless Kansas seemed to him. Logan closed his eyes, remembering the day Rose had stepped off the train. How on that spring day in May, he’d been swept off his feet. Head over heels for a woman he hadn’t expected.
Thinking back on that day now, Logan realized that he’d known in his heart Rose wasn’t Abigail Johnson. His only thought was to marry the girl before she had time to change her mind.
Logan remembered the numerous late nights when the house was quiet, he’d stood at Rose’s bedroom door watching her sleep. It had taken all his willpower not to slip into bed next to her. For days he’d ached to hold her in his arms. To feel his lips upon hers, their hearts pounding fiercely in unison.
And then, when he’d finally found enough courage to change their marriage contract, all hell had broken loose. Now, here he was on a train back to Chicago, to find a way to keep the woman he loved in their lives.
“Next stop Kansas City!” The conductor announced walking through from car to car.
As the train pulled into the depot and slowed next to the platform, Logan swung the saddlebag over his shoulder, glancing out the windows. People gathered waiting for loved ones, or to board the next train.
Making his way down the steps and through the crowd, he strolled along the platform, looking for his boarding window. Finding the right one, he stood in line waiting to hand over his ticket when a hand grabbed his arm. He turned and looked into the face of a kindly middle-aged woman.
“Excuse me, sir. You’re Logan Granger, aren’t you?”
10
Logan gazed into the desperate eyes of the matronly woman before him. Nothing about her sparked an ounce of familiarity. Her clothing, while fashionable, was a few seasons older. Her hair, streaked with shades of auburn and gray here and there, was unruly under a hat that had seen better days.
“Are you or are you not Logan Granger?” She demanded, her irritation at his delayed response noted by her pursed lips.
Logan drew his brows together, clearing his throat. “Yes, ma’am. Do we know one another?” The muscles in his neck tensed, waiting for an opportunity to step away from the woman.
“Thank goodness! I thought I’d recognized you from the tintype you’d sent.” Her words rushed forward on the breath she’d been holding. She closed her eyes muttering something or another, then graced him with a smile as wide as an eagle’s wingspan.
Logan searched his mind. Who would he have sent a picture of his likeness to? Certainly not to this woman who could be his aunt. “I must apologize, ma’am, I can’t seem to make a connection between you and me.”
“Ahh, well, I can see you are confused. As you rightly should be.” The woman placed her valise at her feet, extending a hand out to him. “My name is Abigail Johnson, the woman you had intended on marrying.”
All of Logan’s breath vacated his lungs. It felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. He stared dumbfounded at the woman offering her hand in greeting. His lungs filled with relief, and he grasped her hand in his, surprised by the firmness of her grip.
“You’re Rose’s friend, Abby?” Unable to keep the relief out of his words, Logan fought the instinct to pick Abby up and twirl her around in a large circle of joy. While Miss Abigail Johnson was a becoming woman, Logan knew she had not been the woman for him. God had sent the woman meant to be his other half, Rose Duncan.
“Yes,” Abigail smiled, her face lighting up at the mention of Rose.
“Rose never said you were coming. What are you doing here?” Logan couldn’t imagine Rose didn’t know her friend was coming for a visit. Surely she would have mentioned it to him. If nothing else, as she locked herself into one of Gabe’s cells
“I needed to see Rose. She’s been living a lie and—” Abigail stalled, lowering her lashes slightly.
“She’s been on the run.” Logan finished for her. “The truth reached us a few days ago. Rose told me her side of the truth, as the telegram only said she was wanted and needed protection. I’m on my way to Chicago to clear her.”
Abigail smiled, her eyes sp
arkling. “You have fallen in love with her. I had hoped you would.”
Logan felt the warmth of intimate knowledge sweep up the back of his neck. “Yes ma’am, with all my heart. My little girl, Lilly, does as well and has taken to calling her Momma.”
“Then we need to have a conversation, Mr. Granger, and we need it now. I have a few items that Rose will be happy to see.” Abigail patted her valise, turned and walked toward the depot restaurant.
“Miss Johnson, I don’t mean to be rude, but why travel all the way from Wisconsin to Dodge City, when you easily could have either sent a telegram or had the items shipped along with a note?” Logan rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his boots. “Surely nothing is so important that you’d need to travel all this way to deliver a message.”
“Hmm, well, yet here you are determined to travel all the way to Chicago, then north to Wisconsin, to do what your Pinkerton people could very well do. You feel it’s important enough for you to do the investigation yourself, trusting no one else to the task.” With a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, Abigail pointed out the obvious, then chose a table near the window and sat as Logan pulled out her chair. “Mr. Granger, if it’ll ease your suspicion any, I have pressing matters in Dodge City. One of which is delivering what’s in this envelope to Rose.”
“What’s in the envelope?” Logan took a seat across the table from her. Miss Johnson’s being here was either good news, or she harbored bad news regarding Rose being wanted as a witness to a possible murder.
“Tea, Miss Johnson?” Logan asked politely as the waitress waited to take their order.
Abigail laughed out loud, the sound rich and full. “No thank you. I’d much rather have a strong cup of coffee, black. Tea, in my opinion, is for the refined, and I am as far removed from that as is possible.”
Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset Page 10
