A Western Romance: Nathaniel Yancey: Taking the High Road (Book 6) (Taking the High Road series)

by Morris Fenris

  “Hard to tell, in some ways.” The doctor, a portly soul who always dressed in black, sipped gratefully at the cup of hot coffee Carrie had offered him. “Being down in that damp, dark hole for as long as she was—well, that’s mild hypothermia. Shock from the fall. Dehydration.”

  “Anything more serious?” was Nathaniel’s question. He, too, was working on a cup of coffee. With all the caffeine involved, he felt that he could easily consume a whole pot by himself.

  “The good news is there are no broken bones to contend with. A few bumps and bruises. Keep her warm, get fluids down her, and we’ll see how she is later on.”

  Caroline drew a sigh of relief. “Good news for sure, Doctor. Thank you for coming by so quickly.”

  Standing to gather up his things, Dr. Stanley patted her hand. “Honey, I was hanging around here most of the night, out with the search party. I knew you’d need medical help, once that little girl was found. She’s a spunky one, and that’s no lie.”

  “So you’ll be by again—what, mid-afternoon?” Nathaniel had risen to walk their guest to the door.

  “If I don’t have any patients at the office at that time. So I’ll see you about then. Oh, and get some sleep, both of you. I suspect that young one won’t wake up for a while yet.”

  After the door closed behind him, Nathaniel looked at Caroline. “Dunno about you, but I couldn’t sleep anyway, tired as I am. So I think I’ll slip int’ the spare room and see how she’s doin’.”

  “Oh, me, too, Nate. Let’s go check on her.”

  The spare room of this large and sprawling parsonage, built in an era of numerous children and occasional overnight guests, lay on the second floor, up an open wooden stairway silenced by carpet runners. An iron bedstead, overspread by a lightweight quilt, contained the little girl, motionless and pale. Very pale, with her skin gone almost the color of her silky hair, so that several gashes and bruises showed up stark and plain.

  Caroline caught her breath. “Oh, Hollie.” Her voice sounded on the verge of tears.

  Nathaniel felt like weeping, as well. Whether in anger at the woman who had caused all this, or in relief that the child was returned, he wasn’t sure. He did make sure, however, to send a few prayers of gratitude wafting heavenward.

  The heroine of the hour, black Jezebel the cat, lay curled next to the unconscious child, tail flicking, eyes open and unblinking. No braying cries, no pouncing or playing. Just the warmth and reassurance of her body pressed next to the patient. Victim of a callous woman’s maliciousness.

  “Let’s leave her now, Carrie,” he whispered. “Let her rest. No point in disturbin’ her.”

  “Oh—you’re right, I know.” She turned an anguished face toward him. “It’s just—”

  “I know,” he shushed and soothed her. “I know. C’mon.”

  Back downstairs again, with a fresh cup of coffee and one of yesterday’s leftover cinnamon rolls, they gravitated automatically to his study, to revel in quiet and privacy after so many harrowing hours.

  “Sure didn’t know there might be some kinda minin’ shaft out there,” mused Nathaniel, “that a kid could fall int’ like that.”

  He had chosen to sit, not behind the usual barricade of his desk, but next to Caroline on the blue Chesterfield. With his household close to being back in order again, this lovely woman a mere hairsbreadth away, a few bites of pastry to tide him over until dinner time, and some hot strong coffee to keep him going, he felt a sense of absolute bliss. Nirvana.

  “Reckon later t’day we’d better hire us some workers to fill that place in. And check around, t’ see if there’s any others. Sure don’t wanna be worryin’ about that, when there’s little ones out and about.”

  “Excellent idea,” agreed Caroline, leaning her head back against the tufted sofa. Her beautiful eyes were shadowed with weariness, and her once neat and polished self was somewhat the worse for wear. “Oh, Lordy, I am so tired. This day has seemed a week long, hasn’t it? So much going on, so much commotion and confusion.”

  “Not exactly what I expected, when I headed west from the seminary t’ take this position,” he murmured. “And not at all what I wanted.”

  “Really, Nate?” She turned slightly sideways, facing him so they were a mere few inches apart.

  “And what was it you wanted?”

  Remembering that first day of his arrival, almost as full of commotion and confusion as this one, he smiled. “Peace and quiet. I surely wanted a whole heapin’ lot of peace and quiet.”

  Caroline gurgled with laughter. “How ironic. Not much chance for any of that here. But why were you?”

  “Oh—family stuff, growin’ up.” He went on to describe his formative years, on Belle Clare plantation, and his life with nine raucous brothers. “Hooligans, every last one. And me, right along with ’em!” They shared a chuckle. “Till I got older. Then I wanted nothin’ t’ do with so much goin’ on. I wanted my own space, private-like, and no one t’ bother me. So I went to seminary and became a preacher.”

  “Maybe you should have become a hermit, instead,” she suggested, with that amused crinkle to her eyes. “And then moved yourself, lock, stock, and barrel, to a mountaintop.”

  “Don’t think that idea didn’t cross my mind.”

  She was reminiscing, as well, remembering so much that had happened in this hectic household during the past two months. “Poor Nate. And then you landed here, and had to contend with seven often cranky females.”

  “And a cat. A female cat, no less.” He sighed, shifted position, and crossed his long legs at the ankle. “But life changes you. And so do your perceptions change, and dreams.”

  “So. You’re no longer hankering for peace and quiet?”

  Another chuckle. “Reckon I’ll always want that. But I know that I also want this. This house, with all you crazy females, and all the hullabaloo. Kinda like a drug, Carrie; I’ve got you all buried deep inside me, and I can’t ever let you go without losin’ a big part of myself. Does that make sense?”

  Caroline swallowed past the lump in her throat and blinked past the mist in her eyes. “Perfect sense, Nate. And whenever you feel the need for that elusive peace and quiet, you simply give me the high sign, and slip away to some hideout. I’ll hold down the fort till you get back.”

  “Sounds like a pretty good deal t’ me,” he said thickly. “And then I’ll pick up the reins again.”

  “You’re always so practical, Nate.”

  “Dunno about that. You just think of the things that need t’ get done, and you do ’em.”

  She sent him one of her most endearing smiles. “That’s what I mean.”

  “Well, now.” He hemmed and hawed for a minute, chomped down on another bite of roll, gulped at his coffee. “Speakin’ of things that need t’ get done…”

  “Yes?” And she waited. She was getting good at this, anticipating his words, reading his mind.

  Waiting for him to say what he wanted to say.

  “Uh. Luke. I notice you and him have been keepin’ company quite a lot.”

  “That’s true, we have been.”

  “The other girls are ’bout ready t’ set up housekeepin’ soon, got weddin’ dates set and everything. And I’m gonna be proud to marry ’em myself. You—uh—got any plans in that direction?”

  She blinked her dark blue eyes at him, slowly and expectantly. “You’re going to marry me yourself, too?”

  “Huh.” Choking a little on the crumbs of Delilah’s cinnamon roll, he hastily swallowed some coffee. The dang stuff burned all the way down to his gut. “Didn’t mean it quite like that, Carrie. Just kinda wonderin’ if—uh—well, whether Luke had asked for your hand yet.”

  “My hand?” She lifted both in mid-air, spread out the fingers, turned over the palms. “Apparently not. I don’t see a ring anywhere, do you?”

  “Carrie.”

  “Why are you asking, Nate?” She pushed the attack into enemy camp. “Why do you need to know?”

  “Wel
l, just—wantin’ t’ set things right for the future,” he fumbled. “And if Luke is gonna be around, then—”

  She gave up playing the game. Time for him to make his move. “No. Luke won’t be around.

  I told him so, earlier.”

  “Ahuh.”

  Silence.

  “He’s out of the picture,” she continued.

  “Ahuh.”

  More silence.

  “He’s nice enough, pleasant enough. But I don’t feel anything for him—that way.”

  “Ahuh.”

  Complete silence.

  “Nate!” She felt like stamping her foot. “Will you please get on with it?”

  His slow smile began to blossom, moving from mouth upward to encompass warm dark eyes. Then he eased off the Chesterfield to kneel down before her, with her fingers twined tightly through his. “Carrie. My darlin’ Carrie,” he started in a low, throbbing voice that increased in tempo and intensity. “I love you now, and I’ll love you forever, t’ the end of my days. Will you do me the great and distinctive honor of becomin’ my wife?”

  “Nathaniel Yancey, you silly goose,” she said affectionately. “I would be delighted. Because—oh, Nate, I love you, too—so much! And now I would like to be kissed.”

  “Happy t’ oblige, ma’am. Forward little hussy,” he muttered, grinning hugely as he surged up over her to comply.

  With inordinate ease, his lips found hers, touching and tasting in gentle exploration. Mmmm. Nice. Sweet. Arousing. That was a good start. But Nathaniel found that he wanted more. Much more.

  Another kiss, strong and powerful, almost bruising, that came close to sucking the life out of him. In the midst of all that, his left hand had lifted to cradle the back of her head, preventing escape; his right hand had moved to cover the firm outline of her breast. And more, yet. Exploration wasn’t just for two mouths meeting.

  Some time later, frazzled, disheveled, and ready for whatever he wanted, Caroline lay back wide-eyed and blinking. “Why, Reverend!” she gasped.

  He was breathing hard, but his expression was smug. “For right now, I’m just Nate. A man.”

  “Ah,” she purred, and reached for him again with an eager grasp. “My man.”

  It was near supper time before Dr. Horace Stanley was able to return to see how his patient was faring. He entered the parsonage with an apology; one of his ladies had decided to give birth earlier today, and some assistance had been necessary. But he was here now, and anxious to help.

  “Not much change?” he queried Caroline, over the spare room bed.

  “None that we can see. We’ve kept her warm, and we’ve gotten her to swallow a little water. But I had hoped, by now…”

  “Yes, I understand. Well, let’s try a few things, shall we?”

  The tip of a pencil, drawn down the length of one bare arm; the tickle of a feather across the sole of one bare foot; the light tap of a small hammer upon one knee. At first, nothing, and the doctor frowned and tried again. Then, shortly a tiny flick of the fingers, a tiny wriggle of the toes, a tiny jerk of the kneecap.

  “She’s feelin’ somethin’, all right,” crowed Nathaniel, hanging around behind Caroline. “C’mon, Hollister Winthrop, time t’ stir your stumps and wake up. Open your eyes, honeybee. Jezzy is here, wonderin’ when you’re gonna get up and play with her.” Indeed, the cat had not moved from her earlier position, as if she were serving as guard to a wandering soul.

  Now a slow flicker of eyelids and a ripple of movement through muscles unused for almost 36 hours. Then she obeyed; the lashes fluttered and lifted, the wondering gaze circled an unfamiliar room. “Hi, Nate,” the little girl whispered.

  “Hi, yourself,” he managed thickly.

  She gave him a weary but brilliant smile. “I heardjou talkin’, Nate, so I come back home. You found me, didnchoo?”

  Nathaniel had knelt beside the bed to cradle one of her hands between both of his. “Jezzy found you, sweetheart, fallen down in a mine shaft. But I brought you out.”

  The eyes slipped closed again, and she sighed. “Uh-huh. Knew you would, Nate. I love you.”

  His tearful gaze sought out Caroline’s, who smiled through her own tears. “And that’s how it’s done,” she told him gently.

  The doctor harrumphed as he packed everything away. “Don’t think you’ll have any more worries about this one, Reverend. I’d keep her in bed till tomorrow, at least. By then I expect she’ll be up and running around.”

  As everyone else was by then, Dr. Stanley discovered, when he headed for the front door. Emmie and Linnie were playing a game of kickball in the back yard, Delilah and Tina were cooking up supper in the kitchen, and Portia was setting out plates and cutlery on the table.

  It was a happy house again, he reflected, glancing back at the lighted windows and the sound of laughter echoing forth. A far different picture from that of a few months ago. This Nathaniel Yancey must be quite a miracle worker, to have changed so much sorrow to joy and light in so short a time.

  Or maybe it wasn’t all due to the good Reverend, after all. Maybe it was due to love.

  X

  Their wedding took place a mere six weeks later. Plenty of time for all the wandering Yancey brothers to be notified, make their travel plans, and arrive. And arrive they did, by the bucketfuls. The Yancey clan alone almost filled the church. Fortunately, the weather was still warm and pleasant, so that many of the guests could congregate outside during the ceremony, yet still catch a glimpse of what was going on inside The Little Chapel in the Pines.

  Through Virginia City’s Clerical Council, Nathaniel had contracted with a fellow pastor of a similar faith to take charge of the nuptials. The church was beautifully decorated with plenty of beeswax candles, satin bows, and fragrant, colorful flowers of the season. Even the pews wore little wreaths, happily put together by the bride’s sisters.

  And the sun shone. A good omen, according to those in the audience, as they waited for things to begin.

  Caroline Winthrop was to be preceded down the aisle by her three little sisters, importantly marching in time to Mrs. Howell’s music selections. Three steps into the walk, however, little Hollie halted the procession by turning and raising her arms.

  Without so much as missing the beat, the bride stooped in her sunshiny yellow dress and picked up the youngest Winthrop daughter, to the muffled laughter of everyone in attendance, and carried her all the way to the altar.

  There her handsome groom awaited her, eyes alight with love and adoration.

  As they exchanged vows, as they then exchanged rings, handkerchiefs were whisked into use throughout the sanctuary.

  Finished, their substitute minister turned them to face the congregation with his introduction “to Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Yancey” and a great roar of applause.

  Directly in front of the ecstatic bridal couple stood Miss Hollister Winthrop, executing a perfect first position in her pink leotard, pink tights, and pink leather ballet slippers.

  From the front row, a newly dignified Delilah Trubody rose to follow the procession down the aisle. She was dressed in one part of the wardrobe recently presented to her by a grateful Winthrop family: tight full-length dress of periwinkle silk and ecru lace, elbow sleeves, low-cut and flattering bodice, and a front skirt full of ruffles. Sheriff Carter Novak had already given her his arm as escort; now he was giving her the eye.

  Miss Parris Porter was not invited to the nuptials, nor did she crash the party by appearing.

  After a tragic mishap had laid her low for a number of days—something to do with some internal injury—she had contacted a real estate agent, put her house on the market, hired someone to pack up her furniture and personal possessions, and moved away. No one knew where. No one knew why.

  Good thing.

  Nathaniel’s bishop had signed a formal document of excommunication for the parishioner, and she would no longer be welcome at The Little Chapel in the Pines.

  The End

  Thank You


  I hope you enjoyed this western historical romance story and would love to know what you thought about it. If you have a moment to spare, I would appreciate it if you could leave a review of this book at Amazon. Your opinion goes a long way in helping others decide if a book is for them.

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  Thank you so much.

  Morris

  About the Author

  Morris Fenris was born into a poor family in the Fiji Islands. Thanks to his own grit, determination and the support of his loving parents, he was able to embark on a journey that has seen him attain a good education and work in many parts of the world.

  Morris has been writing since childhood, drawing on his experiences in life and emulating the styles of his favorite authors.

  Morris enjoys reading and writing in a wide range of genres and has plans for many more books. If you’d like to get in touch with this author, please message him on Twitter at #MorrisFenris or find him on Facebook.

  Book List

  Links to other books by Morris Fenris:

  http://www.amazon.com/Romance-Montana-Christian-Christmas-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00GU2DJBO

  http://www.amazon.com/Romance-California-Christian-Christmas-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00MK9UGSA

  http://www.amazon.com/Lifetime-Morris-Fenris-ebook/dp/B00FG0WJB2

  http://www.amazon.com/Romance-Christmas-Vampires-paranormal-Christian-ebook/dp/B00G7GBIL6

  http://www.amazon.com/Romance-Christmas-Heart-Warming-Forgiveness-Togetherness-ebook/dp/B00GHPFYO4

  http://www.amazon.com/Family-Life-Heart-Warming-Relationship-Togetherness-ebook/dp/B00GM2Y0TM