Sierra Bride

by Jenna Kernan

  “Why would you think that?” he asked.

  Now he had her off balance. “It’s plain that you are less than jubilant about his choice.”

  “I told him he should throw you in jail.”

  Kate grimaced.

  “And I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I was trying to protect him. But I was wrong about you. Point being, Sam didn’t listen to a word I said and that’s a first. He believed you, even when Crawford told him you were guilty and I told him to lock you up. It’s how I know he loves you.”

  She stared at him, completely speechless.

  Cole gave a roguish smile. “We’ve had a bad start. You think we can be friends?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Kate extended her properly gloved hand to him and he took if briefly. Cole glanced out the window.

  “Here comes Sam. I’m going.”

  “Thank you for sitting with me.”

  Cole nodded, grabbed his hat and headed out the door.

  A moment later, Cole appeared outside the car and stopped before Sam. Cole patted Sam on the back and Sam grinned, glancing at Kate. She waved.

  The men separated and Sam entered the car. She stood and he kissed her on the cheek, holding her hand tenderly.

  “I left in such a hurry this morning, I never asked how you slept.” His devilish smile told her that he was recalling the night they had spent wrapped in the sheets and each other’s arms.

  She feigned an air of indifference. “Oh, I slept quite soundly. It must be the mountain air.”

  She said this without so much as the hint of a smile, but Sam knew she was teasing and laughed. She smiled, pleased that he understood her dry humor.

  “Kate, I wanted to say something to you about yesterday. I’m sorry I sent you away. Sorry I believed that blasted detective and his blather over you. I won’t ever do that again.”

  She smiled, but it slipped away. Something still confused her. She understood why he would believe what was written in that message. What she couldn’t understand was why he didn’t believe it.

  “What changed your mind?” she asked.

  “I just stopped listening to what others said and started listening to my heart. I trust you, Kate. I knew you wouldn’t do something like that. I was just confused for a little while.”

  She felt the tears brimming as she rested her head on his shoulder. His trust was the most precious of all the gifts he had given her.

  Sam hugged her and then pulled her down beside him on the couch.

  “I got something for you. Don’t worry, it’s not jewelry.”

  “Oh, Sam, you don’t need to keep giving me gifts.”

  “I made it.”

  That got her curious. He held out his closed fist, palm down. She offered her palm and he dropped something light into it.

  She drew it in. There, floating on the white surface of her gloved palm, was a perfectly carved wooden swan. Its graceful neck was arched and he had added two tiny black stones for the bead-black eyes.

  “Oh, Sam!”

  “I carved it from a dead limb of that tree you won’t let me cut down.”

  “When did you have time to do this?”

  “That day I went up to speak to the cartographer. Had to wait around a bit and, well, it’s just a small thing.”

  She held it pressed tight to her heart. “I love it.”

  He grinned. “Do you? That’s what you looked like to me at first, sitting in that tree after the flood—a swan.”

  Kate placed it before her on the table to admire it. “You have a talent. You should carve children’s toys.”

  Their eyes met. Was he wondering if he’d have an opportunity to carve them for their children? She hoped so.

  A knock came at the door. Sam did not swear, but instead hurried to answer it.

  “I got you something else,” he said to her and opened the door.

  “Oh, no Sam. You’ve given me too much already.”

  “But you’ll like this. I know it.” He waved for someone to enter.

  In stepped a Chinese man carrying a bamboo tray. Upon it sat two very small teapots, two very small cups, sugar, cream and a little plate of something she did not recognize.

  “This here is Wang. He’s got some kind of muckety-muck of tea. Did ceremonies just for drinking tea back in Guangdong. Said they don’t use cream, but he’s making an exception.”

  “Oh, Sam!” She clasped her hands together in delight.

  Sam pointed out the window. “See that man with the rifle standing there? He’s got orders to shoot anyone who tries to interrupt us and this train will not roll until you have finished the pot.”

  Kate laughed as she took her seat.

  Sam plopped next to her on the couch. “See these things?” He pointed at the plate. “They’re flowers made out of sugar. You just drop them in your teacup. And these here are some kind of rice cookie. Real crispy. They taste like almond. I hope you like them. Wang made them in the cook tent early this morning.”

  Wang ignored the armchair and knelt before them on the floor, then carefully arranged all the various accessories. He used a small clean towel to wipe the lip of the empty ceramic. Then he flawlessly poured the piping hot water into each cup and immediately discarded the water, while warming the pottery. Finally, he poured the tea.

  She sat forward in anticipation as he clasped a cup between both hands, bowed his head and offered the steaming hot tea to Kate.

  Epilogue

  P hoebe was now a young lady of thirteen, but Kate could tell it took great effort for her sister to keep from bouncing in her seat in excitement as the train neared the depot in Boston.

  Sam had been true to his word, seeing Kate’s family with love and devotion. He had even hired tutors from the east to school Phoebe. But he’d been reluctant to allow her to attend the Perkins School. It had taken both Phoebe and Kate nearly two years to convince him, since he had a horror of all institutions. Kate understood it. His early ears had certainly been difficult.

  But they had finally arrived. Sam had business in Washington, convincing senators to back the necessary land grants needed to compete the railroad, and Phoebe was enrolled as a new student for the fall semester in the Perkins School for the Blind.

  “Are you nervous, Phoebe?” asked Sam.

  Kate shook her head, knowing that nothing she had said could convince him that this was a fine school where Phoebe would be well treated.

  “Of course she’s not nervous. We’ll be just down the road on Pearl Street, so she can come home as often as she likes,” said Kate, readjusting the wiggling bundle on her shoulder. Sam had insisted on buying a house right in the city so he could be sure Phoebe was happy.

  Aunt Ella sat beside Phoebe, staring in wonder out the window of the private railroad car. “Look at the buildings! That one is five stories!”

  Sam extended his arms toward Kate. “Let me take her.”

  “She just won’t sit still,” she said.

  Sam grasped his eight-month-old daughter about the middle and lowered her between his legs, where she bounced and gurgled with delight, standing on her tiptoes. Sam secured her with both hands, allowing her to do what she could to keep upright. Abigail stretched out her tiny hands toward Phoebe.

  “Oh, see? She wants to come to her aunt,” said Sam.

  Phoebe leaned forward and reached out in his direction. “Give me her hand.”

  But instead Sam released his hold on Abigail, keeping his palms just inches from her sides.

  Abigail rocked back and forth for a moment, trying to find her balance, but this time she did not fall. Kate held her breath.

  Abigail lifted a chubby leg and took her first step.

  Ella gasped.

  “What happened?” asked Phoebe.

  Sam’s voice was full of childlike wonder. “Did you see that? Phoebe, put your arms out. She’s walking to you.”

  Phoebe reached, opening her arms and cooing toward the baby she could not see. “Her
e I am, Abby. Come to Aunt Phoebe.”

  Abigail gurgled, lowering her chin in determination as she tottered across the gap between them on her toes. She reached Phoebe with a shriek of delight and Phoebe enfolded her in her arms.

  “She did it!” cried Phoebe, scooping up her niece and bouncing her on one knee in celebration.

  Sam turned to Kate, the wonder shining on her face. It was too much for Kate, who burst into tears.

  Sam gathered his wife into his arms, kissing her forehead tenderly.

  Phoebe turned toward her aunt. “Is Kate crying again?”

  “Yes, again,” said Ella.

  Kate retrieved her handkerchief from her bag and dabbed her eyes. “I’m just happy.”

  Sam wrapped an arm about his wife. “The first time she did this, well, never mind the first time, the point is that it’s hard to reconcile tears and happiness.”

  Phoebe giggled. “Haven’t you ever heard of tears of joy?”

  “I reckon. Just had limited experience with them.”

  Kate felt her heart constrict. Sam had not led a joyful life. But things were changing.

  The train chugged along, the blasts of the whistle announcing their arrival. Kate looked out the window at the bustling city, so different from California. It was what she loved best about the journey eastward, seeing the landscape change. Here in New England, everything was a leafy, lush green.

  The train rolled to a stop before the platform, where folks waited with craning necks for a glimpse of a loved one. She watched a lad running toward their private car clutching a telegraph.

  Sam went to the door to meet the boy, accepting the envelope and tipping the carrier.

  Kate tugged at her lace gloves as she waited for Sam to scan the contents of the message. Kate wondered if Crawford had returned from the South Seas, where he had pursued Donahue. The shipper had certainly led the Pinkerton on a merry chase. Kate had all but given up hope the man would every face justice. Sam had set the detective the task of running the former shipper to ground after he fled San Francisco ahead of the law.

  Sam finished reading a moment later and his arm dropped limp at his side. His jaw opened, but nothing came out.

  Kate was on her feet and hurrying to Sam. She grasped the telegram and read.

  Donahue captured in Tahiti stop

  Returned to San Francisco for trial stop

  Pursuing second assignment stop

  Brother located stop

  Living in Mystic, Connecticut stop

  Wishing to visit you with his wife, Mary

  and sons, William and Samuel stop.

  Please advise stop.

  Cole Ellis

  “Why Sam, this is wonderful! They’ve found him.”

  “Who?” asked Phoebe, now struggling to hold Abigail who wanted to be set down to try out her new steps. The baby had both hands over her head in an effort to slip out of her aunt’s grip.

  “Sam’s brother. He lives here in the East and he wants to meet us.”

  Sam beamed as he hugged his wife. When she drew back, she saw tears forming in Sam’s eyes.

  “I have a family again,” he whispered.

  Phoebe lowered Abigail to the floor, keeping a firm grip on both her small hands. “What’s wrong with Sam’s voice?”

  Kate withdrew her handkerchief and wiped Sam’s eyes.

  “I think Sam is just experiencing his first tears of joy.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-3810-1

  SIERRA BRIDE

  Copyright © 2009 by Jeannette H. Monaco

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.eHarlequin.com