His words started hope blossoming in her. He mentioned a future with the two of them together.
“Are you staying in Kearney, then?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to live here. Should we go back to my family’s home in St. Louis instead?”
“We? Mr. Edwards, there is no ‘we’ until I hear a proposal and exchange vows with you.”
Theo hit his palm to his forehead in frustration. “I’ve gotten things backward. Sorry.”
Reaching across the food that lay on plates, separating them, Theo picked up Ginger’s hand. “I’d like to hold this hand for the rest of my life, Miss Ginger Snap.”
He kissed her palm gently. “I’ve never felt so sure of a decision before in my life. I’m filled with this calm feeling of sureness that you are meant to be mine.”
Leaning close to her arm, he kissed the inside of her wrist. Ginger held her breath, moved by both the soft touch and his words. “You are my heart. The sunshine in my day.”
Tears filled her eyes. Still, she waited and finally he asked the question.
“Ginger Snap, I love you. Will you marry me?”
She gave him a teary, “Yes!” Leaning down, he pressed eager lips to hers. Sealing their betrothal.
“Mr. Edwards, are you taking advantage of this girl. And right under my nose, too!” Mrs. Hooper approached, her fan raised like a weapon.
Stuttering, Theo denied the charge while Ginger giggled beside him. She took pity on him and explained. “He just asked me to marry him. The kiss sort of sealed the deal.”
“Well, let’s save any more kisses for the wedding day.”
After sending a telegram to his parents, Theo and Ginger decided to wait a week to marry so the older couple could travel out to Kearney. From the moment Mrs. Edwards stepped from the train, she rarely said a sentence that didn’t include the words society wedding. She lamented about what her only child could have had, should have had, and missed out on having.
Mr. Edwards was just the opposite. He seemed disinterested in the wedding. His focus remained on Melvin’s practice and Kearney’s potential for growth. He urged Theo to stay for the time being to run his own law practice, something Theo agreed to eagerly.
The man seemed relieved that his son had abandoned any plans for the seminary. “Yes, I see what you mean, Theo. You can help out people in this community.”
Listening to the words, Theo knew his father wasn’t sincere. At least, though, he wasn’t fighting his son about staying in Kearney. Later, he told Ginger that was the only thing that mattered to him in the conversation.
Finally, on a hot July Saturday, Ginger Snap stood beside her beloved as Reverend Robbins spoke vows over them. She’d chosen to wear the emerald taffeta and her mother’s lace gloves. As he recited his vows, Theo slipped a gold band over her lace-covered ring finger.
Before the preacher continued with the ceremony, Theo held up a hand, palm facing the man, to stop him. Looking into Ginger’s eyes, Theo explained.
“My grandfather gave me a special locket, one that belonged to my grandmother. He told me to give it to the girl God would bring into my life.”
Putting a hand into his pocket, her groom removed the locket and chain. Holding it up before her, he asked, “Will you wear this as a reminder that God brought us together?”
She blinked rapidly to hold back tears as she lifted blue eyes to his. At her nod and sweet smile, he looped the chain over her head and allowed it to settle around her neck. Looking down, his bride smiled at the carefully etched hearts on the cover.
The locket lay over her heart, its two gold hearts now representing a love that would last a lifetime.
Author’s Note
Bass Reeves always got his man, just like he boasts in this novel. He had a reputation in Indian Territory for being able to catch outlaws that other deputy marshals couldn’t. In fact, it’s said that Bass Reeves failed to catch his man only once, executing thousands of warrants during his thirty-two-year career. That’s one failure in over 3,000 arrests.
Also, just as I portrayed him in this novel, the man was said to have a fantastic sense of humor. A superior marksman, the man also was exceptionally strong. No wonder outlaws panicked when Bass Reeves was on their trail.
The time period I chose for this novel was deliberate. The year, 1876, was the only time that men heading for the gold fields of the Black Hills used Kearney Junction (as it was then called) as the hopping-off point. They would leave the train there and travel by stagecoach the remainder of the way.
Although the Black Hills did not figure as prominently in my novel as I first intended, the gold shipment from there added suspense. What would I have done without it? And soldiers did, indeed, escort shipments of gold from that spot to the train depot so it could be sent east.
On a final note, I have a confession to make. Fort Kearney was closed by 1876. In fact, the buildings were dismantled and moved in 1871. For purposes of fiction, I allowed it to still be operating during the action of my book. Please, dear reader, forgive my fabrication.
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Lockets and Lace Books by Sweet Americana Sweethearts Blog Authors
2018
0. The Bavarian Jeweler (Prequel) by Zina Abbott
1. Oregon Dreams by Patricia PacJac Carroll
2. Silent Harmony by Caryl McAdoo
3. Otto’s Offer by Zina Abbott
4. Melly Unyielding by Abagail Eldan
5. Locket Full of Love by Heather Blanton
6. Tending Trouble by Linda Carroll-Bradd
7. Chasing a Chance by Angela Raines
8. Disarming Amy by Sandra E Sinclair
9. Pearl’s Will by Sophie Dawson
2019
10. Sandra’s Journey by Patricia PacJac Carroll
11. Joy Unending by Abagail Eldan
12. Uniquely Common by Caryl McAdoo
13. The Secret Diary by Barbara Goss
14. Taming of a Scandal by Linda Carroll-Bradd
15. The Outlaw’s Letter by Angela Raines
16. A Promised Land by Kimberly Grist
17. Driving Lillian by Sophie Dawson
18. Promise of Home by P.Creeden
19. Virginia’s Vocation by Zina Abbott
2020
20. Transforming Emma by Linda Carroll-Bradd
21. Cassie’s Surprise by Patricia PACJAC Carroll
22. Bitter Honey by Caryl McAdoo
23. Grace Unimagined by Abagail Eldan
24. Hannah’s Handkerchief by Zina Abbott
25. Ginger Snap by Marisa Masterson
26. Willow’s Worth by Kimberly Grist
Sneak Peek
The Teacher’s Star
The Belles of Wyoming #35
Chapter 1
September 27, 1871
“Yes, Mother. I will use a bit of the money to send a telegram. But, a short one.”
“All I needs is that one word—Here! You sends it right quick or I’ll be on a train lickety-split.”
Her mother’s light brown eyes flashed a teasing glance in what many pe
ople believed to be a lightly tanned face, kept that way even in winter by the Missouri sunshine. That is, everyone except the good people of Evergreen who knew the truth.
The woman reached across the bag her daughter clutched and put a golden finger under her ivory chin. “Wouldn’t look good for the important teacher to have her mama chasing her, now would it?” Though her voice quivered, Delia knew her mother was determined to make this a happy parting. No matter that it seemed somehow, well, final.
Even during Delia’s college years, the two had seen each other often. Delia had been able to attend a normal school in Springfield. She’d lived there and worked, in her free time, as a sort of gardener and cleaner for families in the area. The same thing her washerwoman mother did in Evergreen. Even so, Delia made sure to head back to Evergreen as often as she could to be with her mother. To be with the person who was both father and mother to her.
She loved the outdoors. Raking, weeding, pruning—none of it was a hardship to her way of thinking. The jobs paid her to be outside. Many folks wanted to hire only men for such tasks. Thanks to the members of her church who worked in service for various wealthy families, she’d had the connections to gain enough jobs, paying her tuition at the college.
During winter months, she’d picked up jobs cleaning houses or helping in kitchens when the wealthy had parties. That had been the hardest part about being away from her mother. They each needed to work, in separate towns, at Christmas. Thank goodness for the train that brought them together.
Except, now it would move them farther apart. Her teacher, Miss Winkler who was now married, left a teaching position in Wyoming. After meeting the woman again in Evergreen, Miss Winkler had suggested that the job would be just the thing for a young woman who loved the outdoors and wanted excitement.
In months to come, those innocent and convincing words haunted Delia more than once.
But, on this day in late September 1871, Delia Perkins kissed her mother’s cheek and allowed the conductor to help her up the steps of the passenger car. After seating herself on the thinly padded second-class seat, she looked through misty eyes out the window.
Her mother stood, waving. She blew a kiss. It was an old game and the daughter automatically caught the invisible kiss and brought it to her pink-tinged cheek. The leaving was hard, but adventure—and students—beckoned.
The school year in Belle would be late starting. The officials had agreed to hold the position while she tied up loose ends in Missouri. She had promised to teach for two weeks in a classroom in Springfield, starting the classroom for a man who’d been in a cast over the summer.
The teacher was expected to be well enough to take over by the third week of September. As she’d only committed herself to the school for those few weeks, Delia was able to hire on as Belle’s teacher. Her first full-time position!
Now, on her way west, she felt hope bloom inside her chest even as her body swayed with the motion of the train. Her hope was huge and ruffled, she imagined, like the many layers of petals in a peony blossom.
She almost giggled aloud at her silly comparison. She did so love peonies, even though ants always crawled over and inside the buds. After all, without the ants the peony blossoms could never open.
Oh, dear me! Maybe that wasn’t a good comparison. Did she want a lot of inconveniences before she realized her dream? No, not a peony. Perhaps her hope could be compared to—
“Is anyone using this seat, miss?” A deep voice pulled her from her silly game of imagining.
Smiling at the man from under her straw bonnet, she shook her head. “Please, feel free to sit here.”
An older gentleman if the creases at his eyes spoke of honest living instead of a misspent past, he appeared to be in his early fifties. He lowered his wiry body onto the seat next to her and stowed a carpet bag at his feet.
“Emory Jessup, Miss, at your service.” He grinned and touched the brim of his low-crowned hat, greeting her.
For years, women had looked past her, children had teased her, and men seemed predatory to Delia. This man looked into her face and treated her as he would any other white woman.
Smiling broadly, she looked directly in his face as she returned the greeting. “Miss Delia Perkins, late of Springfield.”
For several hours, she and Mr. Jessup sat side by side. He asked her many questions, one of the first being her destination. At the mention of Wyoming, his eyes twinkled.
“Say, you know I visited a little town out there once. Nice place called Belle.” As he named the town, an odd expectancy shone from his intense blue eyes. It caused Delia to pull back slightly from him.
Controlling a stutter of surprise, she was unable to suppress the doubt in her voice as she spoke. “Why, uh, how odd! I happen to be the new schoolteacher for Belle.”
“You don’t say. That is quite something. I wonder, do you know anyone in the town already?”
Suddenly, Delia had the oddest image of Mr. Jessup holding a fishing pole. Was she the trout he wanted to catch? His questions seemed suspicious.
Still, if this were an innocent coincidence? It would be nice to find out more about the town. Maybe, just until the next depot, she would continue to speak with him. After that, certainly a different seat would open up. She would use the excuse of wanting a new view from the train when she moved. As she rehearsed the excuse in her mind, it sounded very mature.
Forgive me, sir. I see a seat on the other side. Allow me to pass, as I would like a new view of our great country as the train takes us further into the west.
Oh, that did sound nice. Very much like something her teachers would say.
“Miss, you didn’t answer my question?” The gentle prodding in Mr. Jessup’s voice brought her back to the present. Her light brown eyes probably betrayed confusion at his statement since he repeated it.
With a weak chuckle, he tried to smile. Not the broad grin he’d flashed when greeting her earlier. No, this was the smile of a man who either felt very tired or suddenly weak. “Remember? I asked if you knew any--anyone in Belle.”
Unease changed to concern as she came fully out of her imaginings and studied the man. He had a pasty color and his eyes seemed pinched, none of the intensity of a few minutes before lingering in them.
“Are you alright?” Alarmed, she nonetheless kept her voice lowed and controlled. Years of attempting to be invisible taught her how to do that well. No wonder she still daydreamed much too often.
He shook his head and inched back his dark coat with trembling fingers. A shaft of sunshine glinted off a star pinned to his vest. She made out the U and Mar before the coat slipped from Jessup’s fingers, covering the star again.
“Answer. Please. Will anyone know—” He broke off and sank back into the seat, clutching his middle. She wrung her hands, not sure how to help. When his eyes met hers, they seemed to will her to answer.
“Will anyone know me? No, no one at all.”
Gripping his right side, the man struggled with his words. “Heard—you say—Belle—depot.”
Delia’s brows flew upward. “So, you knew where I was headed? That’s why you sat by me?”
He gave an abrupt nod and reached into his inside coat pocket. His right fist gripped something tightly as he withdrew it. A piece of paper appeared in his left hand from his outside pocket.
“Swear—”
“You want me to cuss?” Was the man delirious?
“Sign. Like swearing in…to office.” The man thrust the paper toward her as if reaching up to her while he dangled from a cliff.
He wanted her to sign it? Easy enough.
She dug briefly through her oversized reticule and came up with a short pencil. Taking the paper, she filled in her name and rapidly affixed her signature in what looked to be the correct spot.
“Read—to me.” He gagged and gripped his belly, his face snowy white.
Sneaking her wire-framed spectacles out of her bag, she slid them quickly up her nose and began to read sof
tly to the suffering man.
“I, Delia Perkins, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute all lawful precepts, directed to the Marshal of the United States for the territory of Wyoming, under the authority of the United States—”
Her voice trailed off, alarm keeping her from closing her mouth. “What are you doing here?”
Mr. Jessup ignored her question. Between pains, he groaned out, “Finish it.”
Adventure, obedience, pride. She didn’t know which of these drove her at that moment. Delia opened her mouth and wholeheartedly affirmed, “And in all things well and truly, and without malice or partiality, perform the duties of Deputy Marshal of the Wyoming Territory during my continuance in said office, and take only my lawful fees, so help me God.”
The raspy voice begged, “The pencil. Paper.”
She handed both to him. Jessup scrawled his name. “Date.”
Retrieving the pencil and paper, she filled in September 21, 1871, showing it to him. He nodded and opened his right fist. A silver star landed in her lap, gleaming against the dark brown skirt of her traveling suit. A large envelope landed on top of it.
He gasped, bringing her gaze up to his pinched face. “Other marshal, already—Belle.”
At her nod, he struggled to continue. “Suspect man. Rol Anders. Tell him.”
“Mr. Jessup, I don’t understand. Is Mr. Anders the suspect?”
Opening his mouth to gasp air, fish-like Delia thought, Jessup pitched forward, landing on top of the envelope.
“Help!” Heads turned and a blue-hatted conductor ran toward them. “I think he’s ill.”
“That, Miss, I think is an understatement.”
A doctor who happened to be traveling in the same car volunteered his services. After proclaiming that Mr. Jessup was undoubtedly suffering with appendix trouble, he left the train at the next stop with his newly acquired patient—coincidentally, where the man’s home and practice was located.
During the time he remained on the train, the man woke only once. He thrashed from side to side before muttering two words, “Rol Anders.” The anguish in his voice convinced Delia Perkins that Rol Anders was someone to be on guard against.
Ginger Snap Page 12
