by Leah Atwood
Sawyer Stephenson appeared in the entrance, smiling. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. How are you?”
“Doing well.” Clint took a second to shake his hand. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
The pastor nodded. “What’s going on?”
“Can we go inside?” People milled nearby, and Clint didn’t want anyone to overhear his idea, especially if Sawyer thought it was dumb.
“Come in.” Sawyer stepped aside and gestured toward the row of pews.
They spent the next thirty minutes catching up and discussing Clint’s plan.
“Do you think it’s dumb?” Always confident, this new found insecurity regarding Bess confounded him. Then again, he’d never cared for anyone like he did for Bess.
“I think she will love it.” Sawyer squeezed his shoulder. “I’m happy to hear your match has been successful.”
“Thank you.” Clint rubbed his jaw. “Is today too soon?”
“Not at all. How late will you be in town?”
“Until the afternoon. I want to be home before darkness falls and the temperature drops too low.”
“Come by at three. I’ll talk to Gabriella and we’ll set everything up.”
“Thank you, Sawyer. I really appreciate.” He stood to leave.
Sawyer stopped him. “Garrison and Kane are in town today, and I think Cord will be done working for the day. Want them and their wives here?”
“Bess would probably enjoy having the women here.”
“Enjoy your day.” Sawyer flashed a wink. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Clint gave him a smile before turning on his heel to leave. He strode through the crowds of people—one would think Mucksbe was a city, not a small town—and made his way to the mercantile.
Inside the store, he walked down each aisle, looking for Bess but didn’t see her. Sheriff Daniels stood at a display, holding up a glass and porcelain snow globe.
“Think my Sarah would like this?” the sheriff asked.
“It looks feminine and dainty,” he answered with a wry grin, emphasizing the words the man had used to describe how women want to be seen.
“Good to see your sense of humor hasn’t evaporated.”
“Have you seen Bess? I left her here an hour ago, but I don’t see her now.” Shifting his eyes, he continued to search for her.
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Sheriff Daniels replaced the fragile item on a shelf. “She was on her way to the post office as I was coming into the mercantile.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
Once again leaving somewhere, Clint exited the mercantile and crossed the street to the post office. He spotted Bess sitting on a bench, clutching a sheet of paper. Her lips were pulled into a straight, thin line and her brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong,” he asked, sitting down beside her.
His actions startled her, and she jumped. Collecting herself, she held up the paper. “It’s a letter.” Her fingers shook. “From Jonathan.”
Jealousy surged through Clint. “What did he want.”
Her green eyes averted his gaze. “He apologized profusely and asked me to return to New York so we could marry.”
“But you’re already married.” Somehow he managed not to shout the words, but spoke them calmly.
“I know.” She sighed heavily.
Clint was worried. “Do you regret marrying me now that Jonathan wants you back?”
Her eyes showed confusion. “Why would you think that? If anything, his letter only made me realize how pitiful he really is.”
“Are you certain?” He sucked in a breath.
“Why would I want him when I have you?” She pressed a palm against his chest. “I have no regrets about marrying you.”
Exhaling, he pulled her in an embrace, not caring who saw. “I love you, Bess. I know I said I wouldn’t push for more, but I didn’t expect to fall in love with you. Do you think we could have a real marriage?”
“I love you, too, Clint.” Her contented sigh was warm against him. “I want a real marriage. With you, and no one else.”
Epilogue
Bess looked around the church. There were a few people she’d met in town, along with all the men from the Freedom Bride program who’d already married, plus their wives.
She stood at the front of the church, holding her husband’s hand as they recited their vows a second time. This time, they both meant every word of their promise to love each other forever.
Stealing a glance at Clint, she marveled how lucky she was to have found him. Only a month ago, she’d arrived in Mucksbe, brokenhearted and uncertain of her future. Now, New York was but a distant memory. Her heart had been restored, and she stood next to the man who was her future. Clint made her feel beautiful, loved, and cherished. He was her protector, her friend, her partner for life.
Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
Thank you for continuing to read the Texas Wildflowers series. Each new freedom bride story has been such a joy to create, and I’ve enjoyed bringing their romances to you. Look for the final installment, Free to Forgive, in November.
Although Free to Roam wasn’t meant to be a Christmas story, the holiday worked its way. I’ll admit, I listened to Christmas music as I worked on it. If you enjoy Christmas stories, continue reading for an excerpt from Whiter than Snow, a Brides of Weatherton bonus novella.
Until next time,
Leah
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Other Available Titles from Leah Atwood
Contemporary Romance Novels
Come to Me Alive
Come to Me Free
Come to Me Again
Come to Me Joyful (Bonus NOVELLA)
Brides of Weatherton Novellas
After the Rain
Fire and Ice
Winds of Change
Whiter than Snow
Dancing on Dew (December 2015)
Texas Wildflowers Novelette Series
Free to Love
Free to Heal
Free to Protect
Free to Serve
Free to Roam
Free to Forgive
Mail-Order Short Stories and Novelettes
The Ultimatum Bride
A Man to Be Proud Of
Their First Noelle
The Not Quite Mail-Order Bride
The Mail-Order Bride’s Quilt
Riches of the Heart
Unlikely Substitute
The Most Wonderful Bride of the Year
Excerpt from Whiter than Snow
Cheyenne- September 1894
The ornate details of the Pullman sleeping car blurred into a single, unfocused image. Tallie Duncan stuck out her arm and felt around until she made contact with a wooden object that could support her until she balanced her uneven stance. Everything around her spun—the richly upholstered seats, the train platform visible through the windows, the entire Goshen family.
She shuffled her feet until she stood in front of a seat. Lowering her body into the chair, she averted her gaze from the disdained scowl of Mrs. Cohen. The stern lady had warned Tallie that if these spells continued, her position as a nanny would be compromised. Would this be the final time?
Tallie bowed her head and drew in three long, consecutive breaths. Why did these spells keep happening to her? They’d started not long after Gil has passed, and had continued intermittently, striking her without warning. The first few, she’s passed off as grief, but five months later they continued. The dizziness passed after several minutes, and when she lifted her head, Georgie, her youngest charge, tore from his mother and leaped to her side.
“Are you sick, Miss Duncan?” The four-year-old looked at her with large brown eyes. His face still was round and plump, the last vestige of his infancy as he entered childhood.
Her lips curved to smile. “I’m fine, Georgie.”
For all she knew, that could have been a lie, but she didn’t have the money to visit a doctor and find out for certain. Pooling all her strength, she stood to her feet. A little wobbly, but steady enough.
“We’re behind schedule.” Mrs. Cohen’s brows knitted to a severe line. “Mr. Cohen and Alistair have gone on to secure a carriage. It would be rude of us to keep them waiting.”
“I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve caused.” Tallie doubted that the few minutes she sat until steady would negatively impact Mr. Cohen. However, she needed this job so did her best to appease her boss, and while Mr. Cohen was the person who paid her, Mrs. Cohen undeniably was the person in charge.
“Once we’re settled in our hotel, we will discuss this matter further.” Mrs. Cohen’s skirts swished as she swept down the aisle of the train car, her nose in the air. She didn’t once look to see if her son or Tallie followed. Of course she wouldn’t. The matriarch of the family couldn’t be bothered with her son or hired help.
It was what gave Tallie hope that she wouldn’t be dismissed from the Cohen’s employment because of her episodes, as Mrs. Cohen called them. Georgie and Alistair’s mother didn’t have maternal instincts like most mother’s had. She saw her sons as a nuisance and couldn’t handle five minutes alone with them, thus providing a measure of employment security for Tallie as long as she performed her duties.
Tallie’s heart ached for Alistair and Georgie. The two boys were darling, even if they did have some rapscallion tendencies. After accepting the position as their nanny, she discovered she was the first caretaker they hadn’t scared off within a week. To the boys’ dismay, it would take more than snakes and mud to make her leave. Once the boys had realized that, they’d settled down. After a month of being under her care, they’d given up their battles and decided to allow her into their secret world of make-believe.
Alistair and Georgie had vivid imaginations to complement their keen intelligence. Between their school lessons, they’d had marvelous times of hunting down hidden treasures and chasing animals in exotic places she’d only read about in the books at the orphanage where’d she grown up. Tallie only wished they didn’t understand their mother’s aloofness toward them.
When the Cohens had approached her last month to inquire if she’d be willing to move west with them, she’d eagerly accepted, for the boys’ sake and hers. She cared for them deeply, almost as though they were her own children. They filled the void, the hole in her heart, left by Gil’s sudden death.
She cut off her thoughts before they travelled to memories Gil. He was gone, and that was that. There was no bringing him back, no happy, long life together. All she had were her memories.
From the corner of her eye, Tallie caught a glimpse of Mrs. Cohen standing outside the train, arms crossed. “Oh no.” Grabbing Georgie’s hand, she whisked him down the aisle and off the train.
Mrs. Cohen’s chest heaved with a dramatic huff. “Woolgathering again, Miss Duncan?”
“I was admiring the finery of the train car one final time before departing.” It was not a complete fabrication—she had taken note of it as she pulled Georgie behind her. “You certainly do have the finest of tastes.”
“It’s a gift handed to me from my dear grandmother.” Apparently placated, Mrs. Cohen patted a palm to her chest. “We must hurry now.”
Later that evening, Tallie sat in her temporary bedroom, on the second floor of one of Cheyenne’s finest homes. The house belonged to Mr. Cohen’s elderly uncle, with whom they would be residing until spring when they’d continue on to Oregon where Mr. Cohen would open a new mercantile. Though the house was spacious, her room was small. The only furnishing were a bed, desk and chair. Still, it was a vast improvement from the other places at which she’d resided—the room she’d shared with nine other girls at the orphanage, the cramped train quarters. The closed in space of this bedroom was even better than the room Gil had rented, which would have been their home had he not been killed.
Yes, it would suffice just fine. If I’m not dismissed. Mrs. Cohen had not brought up the matter of the earlier episode as promised, but Tallie knew it was only a matter of time. She relied heavily on the knowledge that the boys loved her, and Mrs. Cohen knew it as well. Would she risk dismissing her and have to find a replacement in a strange city? Tallie didn’t believe she would.
She prayed her instinct was correct. There was nowhere else for her to go. She had no family, and her only friends were those from the orphanage. Boston held nothing for her except sad and lonely memories. Her plan was to go west with the Cohens, continue working for them until the boys were older. Maybe even until she found a husband. Gil would have wanted her to be happy and not spend her life alone.
A whimper sounded from the next room. Tallie left the bed and walked to the door that adjoined two rooms. Turning the brass knob, she opened the door to the boys’ room. She tiptoed to Georgie, asleep in bed. He tossed and turned, in the throes of a bad dream. Sitting on the bed’s edge, she patted his back and whispered soothing words in his ear until he calmed. In minutes, his breathing returned to normal and his body stilled.
The only sound to be heard was that of a tree branch brushing against the window every time a gust blew. Tallie swept the hair from Georgie’s face and dusted a kiss on his forehead. Across the room, Alistair slept peacefully. She went to him, gave him a kiss also before returning to her own room.
Sadness enveloped her as she sat at the desk. Although her own parents had died when she was only seven, she vividly remembered how much they loved her. It was something she could cling to when life was too hard. Would Georgie and Alistair find that same comfort? Why couldn’t Mrs. Cohen see what a treasure her young sons were?”
Someone rapped at her door, and Mrs. Cohen burst through a second later, not waiting for an invitation.
Tallie stood and smoothed her skirt. “How may I help you?”
Crossing her hands in front of her midsection, Mrs. Cohen peered at her with condescension. “I’ve come to discuss your employment and the signs of illness you’ve displayed.”
WHITER THAN SNOW
