“Mrs. Johnson made it for you.”
Violet touched the cloth of the sleeve. “It’s so pretty.” Her expressive gaze lifted to Marlys. “When can I go home? I mean leave here?”
“I’d like to watch you at least until tomorrow,” the doctor said.
“I am pretty tired.”
“Rest all you like. We’re right here.”
Marigold lay down and curled on her side next to her niece. Marlys covered her with a blanket. She dozed, but woke to thank God and look at her niece. This child had been through so much. First she’d lost her mother, then her father, a virtual stranger, had taken her from the only home she’d ever known and subjected her to people and conditions Marigold didn’t even understand. She’d clung to Marigold, but she’d also adjusted to life at the ranch and a new school. She’d made friends with Jane Burgess, and apparently she’d wanted to stay with the Halloways.
Violet had lost just as many people as she had, yet she was taking chances on caring for new people. Marigold recalled all the prayers she’d prayed for her niece, one in particular. Lord, don’t let this child be afraid to love or care for people because of her losses. Don’t let her be like me.
In that moment Marigold realized she had wasted time being afraid. Hopefully not too much time.
If Violet could learn to be brave and love again, she certainly could.
Marlys had said it well: Some things are worth the risk.
Finding happiness was worth the risk.
Loving again was worth the risk.
Because what was the alternative?
She sat up.
The movement woke Violet.
At the same time there was a tap on the door and it opened. Seth stepped inside. His gaze went from Marigold to Violet. “You’re awake.” He came close on the side where Marigold sat. “She’s awake.”
“Marlys said she seems to be just fine. She has a headache and Marlys wants her to stay until tomorrow.”
He pulled Marigold into an embrace, and she relished the comfort. Releasing her, he leaned over Violet. “You, little girl, gave us quite a scare.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know some little boys who are going to be very happy to hear you’re awake.”
“They were here this afternoon,” Marigold told her. “They talked to you. Evelyn was here for hours.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “They were here?”
Marlys showed up with a fresh pitcher of water. “Are you thirsty?”
Marigold turned to Violet. “Seth and I are going to be right outside for a few minutes.” She took his hand and led him from the room. She glanced around and guided him into one of the empty bathing chambers.
“Everything’s all right?” Concern laced his voice.
“She’s fine. Everything is good. Except me.”
“What’s wrong?”
She took a deep breath and paced to a table with a mirror above it. “Oh, my goodness, I look a fright.”
“You look beautiful.”
She came back to where he stood. “I’ve been a coward. Let me say this.” She covered his lips with her fingertips. He took her hand. “I put up a wall around my heart. I told you—I told everyone—that I needed to make my own choices...and I do. But that was just an excuse. I didn’t want to love the boys because they aren’t mine. I had lost Violet and felt helpless. I couldn’t bear to become attached to them and then lose them.”
“Lose them how?”
“You might have married someone, and I’d be out of their lives.”
“Who would I marry?”
“Any number of interested females. Molly Delaney, for one.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I felt as though I was an obligation to you. You always do the right thing, and having me in your home was the right thing. Your mother made the arrangements and you couldn’t say no.”
“If anyone is an obligation, it’s me. I got you and the boys—and Peony—out of that train car, and I was hurt, so you felt like you owed me something.”
“I did feel that way at first.”
Silence beat a suspenseful rhythm between them.
“And now?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to care about you, either, so I wanted to leave White Rock before that happened.”
“You’re wise in so many ways,” he told her, “but this isn’t one of them.”
“I didn’t want to love you because from where I was standing, caring is weakness. I couldn’t admit to myself or anyone else that I might want more. I wanted guarantees, and sometimes there are none.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I was lying to myself, too.”
“You were?”
“I didn’t think I had time or energy for a wife. I realized though that I didn’t want to be alone. And I realized pretty soon after you got here that I was in love with you. I even had the idea recently that I could entice you to fall for me.”
His words made her heart race. “It was working.”
They stared at each other while she forced herself to breathe normally.
“Say the words to me, Seth.”
He looked at her. Moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I’m in love with you, Marigold. Completely, dizzily, desperately, impossibly in love with you.”
She hurtled forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his kiss with all the fervency she’d kept hidden these weeks. She poured the feelings that had been inexpressible into the kiss, understanding in that moment that she was choosing him.
She bracketed his face with her hands. “I love you, too. I don’t feel obligated to you. I feel honored that you fell in love with me. I want to hear you say it every day.”
He held her wrists. “Miss Brewster, will you marry me? I’ll have Russ change the paperwork, so your name is on the boys’ adoption papers. There’s nothing I want more than to be a family with you...than to be your husband.”
She couldn’t smile any wider. “I’ll marry you. But let me warn you, curly red-haired babies run in my family.”
“I suppose we will need a little zinnia in our bouquet.”
She laughed.
He kissed her again, and she smiled against his lips. “What will the children say?”
* * *
They didn’t make the announcement until after supper the following day. Violet had come home and now rested on the daybed Seth had used on the porch. The boys held court around her, bringing her drinks, singing her silly songs and making her laugh—a sound more beautiful to Marigold than the truest note Pippa Kendricks could sing.
Evelyn sat in a chair mending a shirt and smiling at the children’s antics.
“We have something to tell you,” Marigold announced.
“What is it?” Tate asked.
“Ith it?” Little John said, mimicking.
“I’m making us a horseshoe pit,” Seth announced.
“You are?”
“Where at?”
“Oh, boy!”
“You are?” Marigold asked.
He grinned. “I just thought I’d let everyone know.”
She chuckled. “That is not the announcement.”
Evelyn laid down her sewing.
Seth took Marigold’s hand and drew her to stand beside him, where he put his arm around her waist.
Evelyn covered her mouth with her fingers.
Violet’s eyes opened wide and she sat up.
The boys looked at each other.
“Marigold and I are going to be married,” Seth announced.
It only took a heartbeat until all four children exclaimed their pleasure and excitement together. Evelyn dabbed her eyes with the shirt she’d been mending. The boys crowded around their legs and hugged them.
; “Uncle Russ is working on the paperwork,” Seth told them, “changing it so that Marigold’s name is with mine. We’re adopting you boys together.”
“You’ll be our ma?” Tate asked her.
“You can call me whatever you feel comfortable with. I’ll be proud, whatever you choose.” She noticed her niece’s fallen expression. “Violet? Is something wrong?”
“You’ll all be a family then.”
“And you’re part of our family.” Marigold went to sit beside her.
“But I won’t be adopted like Tate and Harper and Little John.”
Seth moved to hunker down at the side of the bed. “Honey, if you’d be happy with Marigold and I adopting you, we’d be happy doing it.”
“You would?”
“Of course. My brother can start the paperwork and we’ll take care of it all at once.”
Violet leaned over and put an arm around both of their necks, drawing their faces near hers. “And then we’ll all be family.”
Not to be left out, the boys climbed on the bed and joined the hug.
Seth rested his forehead against Marigold’s and they smiled into each other’s eyes. “How many of those redheaded babies do you want?” he asked.
* * * * *
Don’t miss a single installment of
RETURN TO COWBOY CREEK
THE RANCHER INHERITS A FAMILY
by Cheryl St.John
HIS SUBSTITUTE MAIL-ORDER BRIDE
by Sherri Shackelford
ROMANCING THE RUNAWAY BRIDE
by Karen Kirst
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Dear Reader,
Getting reacquainted with all the wonderful characters from the previous Cowboy Creek series and once again working with fellow authors Sherri Shackelford and Karen Kirst was great fun. If you haven’t read the entire series, I hope you’ll look for previous books and enjoy them as well.
Seth and Marigold were interesting characters to develop. Marigold is a resilient, determined young lady who is hungry for love, but afraid to risk it. Seth is a hardworking, responsible rancher who doesn’t have time in his life for an injury, a schoolteacher with a pet cat, or three challenging kids who need a lot of love and attention.
When they’re thrust together, this couple has a lot to learn about themselves—and about love. We’ve all experienced losses, and we’ve all dealt with them in diverse ways. Seth and Marigold have something to teach us, and what we learn from them is that love is worth the risk.
I enjoy keeping in touch with readers.
You can contact me at: [email protected].
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Happy spring!
Cheryl St.John
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Montana Lawman Rescuer
by Linda Ford
Chapter One
Bella Creek, Montana, summer 1891
What was she doing sitting on the ground, her head throbbing? She slowly turned to take in her surroundings. The stagecoach lay on its side, one wheel broken in half.
“Ma’am?”
Blinking away the pain behind her eyes, she turned toward the voice. A man with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes faced her from a few feet away. A gray cowboy hat had been pushed back, allowing her to see his strong features clearly. He hunkered down on his haunches, his look gentle and patient, making her feel safe even though he was a stranger and she in an awkward position. Or perhaps it was the silver star on his chest that made her feel safe.
“Do you recall what happened? Who did this?” His voice eased through her thoughts.
“There were three men chasing us. They yelled at the driver to stop and shot at him. Then we went over the edge of the cliff.” Her voice wobbled as she recalled the terror.
“I’m sorry to question you when you’re injured, but if you can tell me anything about the men, it would help.”
She pressed her hands to her face, drew in a deep breath and let her mind fill with the terrifying pictures of the robbery and accident. “Three of them, like I said. With their faces covered.” She squinted. “One man wore a pair of boots with silver tips.”
“Very good. That will be useful in identifying them.”
She screwed up her face. “I wish I could remember more.” She grimaced.
“Take it easy. You and the boy are okay.”
At the man’s words, she shifted her gaze slowly and painfully to her other side.
“Mikey?” Poor little boy looked terrified. As well he should. She shuddered as she recalled the horror of that chase, the gunshots making her wince and the scream that tore from her throat when the stagecoach started to tumble. Her heart went to the child and she held out her hand.
With a muffled cry he scuttled to her side and pressed tight to her.
“Ma’am?”
She lifted her gaze to the man waiting patiently.
“I’m the sheriff, Jesse Hill. I’ll see that you get safely to your destination.”
She squinted as she tried to recall the details of her trip. Obviously she’d been going somewhere to be on the stage, but at the moment, she couldn’t recall her plans.
The sheriff kept his steady gaze on her. “What’s your name?”
“Emily—” There had to be more to it than that. Emily what? But she couldn’t remember.
“Emily?” His voice, deep and kind, prodded her for more information.
“It’s...it’s...” Despite the pain the movement brought, she shook her head. “I can’t remember. I don’t know my last name.” Panic clawed at her throat. She scrambled to her feet and swayed. “Oh, my head.” She pressed her palms to her temples, felt a lump on the right side and moaned.
Sheriff Jesse Hill had also risen and he caught her elbow. “Steady, now. You’re hurt. Why don’t you sit down again until you feel better?”
“I can’t.” She clung to his hand to keep from falling and breathed deeply to still the rolling of her stomach. “I must find my belongings. They’ll have my name on them.”
“Miss Emily, everythin
g is gone.” His words drained the strength from her.
“Gone.” She sank to the ground and stared at Mikey. How did she know the little boy’s name? Who was he?
“Is this your son?” The sheriff squatted down beside her. “The two of you were the only passengers on the stagecoach.”
She looked at the little boy, his blue eyes wide with shock, his blond hair tousled. She shook her head, and then turned back to the sheriff. “I don’t remember.” The words whispered from her as if she couldn’t bear to hear them aloud. Surely she would know if she had a child. If she was married. She looked at her hand. No ring. She squinted. No depression to indicate she’d recently worn one.
The sheriff spoke to Mikey. “What’s your name, son?”
Mikey patted his tummy. “I Mikey.”
“Do you have another name?” The sheriff spoke softly.
Emily could hardly breathe as she waited for the child to reply, hoping the information would enable her to remember something...anything.
“I Mikey.”
She pressed her lips together and blinked back disappointment.
Sheriff Hill chuckled. “Hi, Mikey. Pleased to meet you. How old are you?”
He held up two fingers. “’Most...” He struggled to get a third finger up bringing a chuckle from Emily. The sound ended on a groan as her head protested the sound.
Knowing how any sudden movement increased the pain in her head and brought a twinge of nausea, she slowly turned her gaze back to the sheriff. “Mr. Hill, I can’t remember who I am or where I’m going.” She would not cry but tears stung her eyes. A sob caught in the back of her throat.
Mikey sensed her distress. Or perhaps only felt his own and again pressed to her side. “Mem...mem...mem...” he chanted.
Was he saying his name? Hers? Or did he mean mama?
Mikey stuck a thumb in his mouth. Somehow, Emily found comfort in watching him suck it.
“Calm down, Miss Emily. You’ll be okay in a few minutes.”
His assurance drove back the sense of panic. “Of course. My head hurts. As soon as it’s better, I’ll be better.” Please, Lord Jesus, let it be so. And soon. Not knowing who she was or where she belonged left her fighting to make her lungs work.
The Rancher Inherits a Family Page 24
