“That is if they don’t hang you for disobeying a direct order from the Governor of Indiana.” Her eyes swept the area, the other soldiers staring wide-eyed, their jaws slack. “And I have witnesses.”
Daniel moved to her, placing his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They both stared at the captain.
Captain Nelson opened the paper with jerky movements. A deep flush rose from his collar to his hairline. He crushed the paper in his hand and glared at her before tossing it to the ground. His jaw worked, the vein in his neck pulsing. “Release the prisoner.”
He turned and strode away, the ball of the wadded up paper that saved Daniel’s life bouncing in the breeze behind him.
Daniel placed his hands on Rosemarie’s shoulders and turned her toward him. “I love you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
She sagged with relief and smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “I bet you say that to all the women who save you from a hanging.”
“No, sweetheart. Only one.” He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth. Something he intended to do every day for the rest of his life.
Chapter Eleven
With them riding double on Mellow, it took Rosemarie and Daniel a few hours to arrive at Dr. Kennedy’s house. Both of them fatigued from the morning’s events, they had ridden in silence, Rosemarie in front of Daniel, his arms wrapped securely around her.
“I must admit when I awoke this morning, I never thought to see this town again.” Daniel gazed around as they came to a halt. He slid off Mellow’s back and reached up for Rosemarie. Once she was in his arms, he gave her a light peck on the tip of her nose. “That’s all for now. Once we get back to the farm, I’ll give you a proper kiss.”
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with warm spring air. No more hiding, he was a free man. Free from the Confederate army and free from the clutches of Captain Nelson. Frankly, he didn’t know if the governor had the authority to have him released, but with the man’s backing, and the war over, the chances of anything coming to pass when the fort commander returned was slight.
Hand-in-hand they strolled up the doctor’s steps and banged the knocker. A pleasant woman who must have been the doctor’s wife opened the door, her expression of concern immediately turning into a bright smile. “Mrs. Wilson. I see you saved your young man.”
“Indeed I did, Mrs. Kennedy.” She grasped Daniel’s arm. “This is Lt. Daniel McCoy, formerly a Confederate soldier.”
“Ma’am,” he nodded.
Mrs. Kennedy stepped back and swept her arm out. “Please, come in. I see the doctor will have to attend to your injuries.”
“How are my children?” Rosemarie asked as she followed Mrs. Kennedy down the hallway.
“They’ve been awake for a while. All three ate a bit of breakfast, and their fevers are gone.”
“Praise the Lord,” she murmured.
“Mama!” All three children shouted at once.
“And Mr. a’Coy,” Amelia added. “You found him, Mama!”
Chandler stared at him. “What happened to your face?”
With everything else that had occurred, he’d forgotten about the beating he’d taken yesterday. “I ran into a bit of trouble, son, but Dr. Kennedy will fix me right up.”
“Can we go fishin’?” Amelia asked.
Daniel sat on the edge of her cot and pulled her onto his lap. “Yes, we sure can, Miss Amelia. But first you and your brothers have to get better.”
“Will you have to go back to your regiment again?” Chandler’s eyes held the fear of a young boy who had shouldered too much already in his young life.
“No, I sure don’t. The war is over.”
“Who won?”
“I’m afraid no one, son. Both sides lost a great deal. But the Confederacy is the one that surrendered, and we are all one union again.”
“Is that good?” Amelia said before tucking her fingers into her mouth.
“Yes, angel, that is very good, although I’m afraid a lot of people won’t think so for a long time to come. Hopefully we’ll all heal eventually.”
“Speaking of healing, I heard your young man has agreed to some doctoring after all.” Dr. Kennedy entered the room, a huge grin on his face.
Daniel stood and shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you for helping my family.”
Dr. Kennedy’s grin grew wider. “Your family? I guess we’re going to be looking at a wedding sometime soon.”
“Well, seeing as how I haven’t even had a chance to ask the lady for her hand, I can’t rightly say. But in any event, it was my family you took care of.”
“Mama, are you and Mr. a’Coy going to get married?” Amelia asked.
Rosemarie cast a glance in Daniel’s direction. “Well, no one has asked me.”
Daniel grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room. “We’ll be right back,” he flung over his shoulder as he hurried her through the doorway.
Once they were in the front parlor, he tugged her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “Mrs. Wilson, I love you with my entire being. I want you by my side for the rest of our lives. I want to raise Chandler, Amelia and Jace. And whatever children the good Lord blesses us with.
“Will you say yes to my plans, and make this wonderful day even better?”
Her eyes flooded with tears. “Yes, Reb. I will say yes to your plans since they are very much like my own.”
“God, I love you,” he murmured before his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss.
Since they had to wait for Daniel’s black eyes to go back to normal, and for the children to recover from the chicken pox, it was a few weeks before the morning of Rosemarie’s wedding arrived.
She arose to the scent of late spring flowers drifting through the open window. Tonight she and Daniel would join together right here in this bed as man and wife. Always conscious of her reputation, Daniel had rented a room in town that he paid for by cleaning the saloon after it closed each night.
Every day, however, he spent with her and the children. He planted corn, helped Rosemarie start her vegetable garden, and began repairs on the barn that would soon house the wild horses he planned on capturing to begin his horse farm.
His soon-to-be wife thought the idea was a wonderful one.
A knock sounded on her front door and she hurried to allow a few women from the church to enter. They had arrived to help her dress, and to set up for the small reception they would have when they returned from speaking their vows.
The sounds of feminine chatter and excitement followed them as they took over her kitchen, placing warm dishes at the back of her stove, and the cold ones in her ice-box.
“Now it’s time to get the bride dressed,” Abigail Wetherby announced as she wiped her hands on a dish cloth and smiled brightly.
“Mama, can I help you dress, too?” Amelia looked up at her, eyes wide with anticipation.
“Of course, you can, sweetheart. And you have your new dress to wear, too.”
The little girl jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “And what about Jace and Chandler?”
“I don’t think they will be as excited as you are to dress in their best clothes for a wedding, but we’ll make sure they look just fine when we leave for the church.”
Daniel ran his finger around the inside of his collar and cast a weak smile at Reverend Potter. “I wonder what’s taking them so long.”
The preacher placed his large hand on Daniel’s shoulder and squeezed. “We still have a few minutes until the service. They’ll be here.”
As the last word left the preacher’s mouth the door at the back of the church opened and a crowd of women entered. In the center of the group stood his bride. His chest swelled with love.
Her light blue dress trimmed with lace fit her curves perfectly. As she turned to speak to Amelia, he got a glimpse of her hair that had been arranged in some sort of a bun at the back of her neck. Blue flower
s circled the bun, the same flowers that she held in her hand.
Rosemarie bent to Chandler and spoke to him. He took Amelia and Jace’s hands and walked to the front of the church, helping them into the pew and getting them settled.
Mrs. Dickinson at the organ began playing, and Rosemarie took the few steps from the back of the church to where he stood. He reached out and grasped her hand, “You look beautiful.”
She smiled at him, and his insides turned to mush. This brave, wonderful woman would soon be his. They turned to face the preacher who would bless their union before God and man.
Several hours later, the twenty or so guests departed the farmhouse with hugs and well-wishes. The ladies had served the food and cleaned everything up, insisting Rosemarie take her wedding day off.
Daniel stood on the front porch with his arm wrapped around his wife, his children darting all over the yard, playing with Amelia’s cat. As he turned her to head into the house, all his thoughts were on their bedroom and the pleasures that awaited them once the children were settled for the night.
“Mama, look. Here comes another visitor.” Chandler pointed in the direction of the road leading up to the farmhouse.
Rosemarie raised her hand to her forehead to block the setting sun. A man walked the path, the fatigue in his body evident by his halting steps. He stopped for a moment, seeming to take in a deep breath, then continued on his way.
“Daniel?” Rosemarie said as her new husband stared down the road, his eyes growing wide. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and slowly descended the steps. As he continued toward the traveler, his heart sped up and his guts twisted. Once he was sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he picked up his steps until he was practically running toward the man.
“Daniel?”
“Oh, my God. Stephen? I was afraid you were dead.”
The younger man collapsed into Daniel’s arms. “Not quite, big brother, not quite.”
The End
Watch for Stephen McCoy’s story, Stephen’s Bride, coming in late 2015.
Author’s Notes
Oliver P. Morton was the governor of Indiana at the close of the Civil War, and had been a circuit judge before becoming governor. The blurb in the newspaper Rosemarie read, attributed to Governor Morton about his feelings on the war, were his actual words.
The ‘speech’ he gave later on in his parlor to Rosemarie, were my words, but what I imagined the man would have said.
During the Civil War, the citizens of Indianapolis did, indeed, provide food, clothing, and nursing services for the Confederate soldiers kept there. The Union prison camps held back supplies for their prisoners because the inmates being detained in the Confederate prisons were not offered much in the way of necessities. That was due to the fact that near the end of the war, the Confederacy could barely feed their own soldiers. When an exchange of prisoners was suggested, President Lincoln refused, hoping that would help end the war.
About the Author
USA Today best selling author of The Elusive Wife, Callie Hutton writes both Western Historical and Regency romance, with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). She also pens an occasional contemporary or two. Callie lives in Oklahoma with several rescue dogs, two adult children, and daughter-in-law (thankfully all not in the same house), and her top cheerleader husband of thirty-eight years. She also recently welcomed twin grandsons to her ever expanding family. Callie loves to hear from readers, and would welcome you as a “friend” on Facebook. You can contact her through her website: www.calliehutton.com, or write her directly at [email protected]
Other Books by Callie Hutton
Oklahoma Lover Series:
A Run for Love #1
A Prescription for Love #2
Another Chance To Love #3 (November, 2014)
A Wife by Christmas #4
Anyplace But Here #5
Marriage Mart Mayhem Series:
The Elusive Wife #1
The Duke’s Quandary #2
The Lady’s Disgrace #3
The Baron’s Betrayal #4
The Highlander’s Choice #5 (July, 2015)
The Highlander’s Accidental Marriage #6 (November, 2015)
An Angel in the Mail
A Tumble Through Time
Emma’s Journey
Miss Merry’s Christmas
Choose Your Heart
Tessa’s Treasures
Turn the page for the first chapter in A Run For Love, Oklahoma Lovers series #1
A Run for Love, Oklahoma Lovers Series Excerpt
Chapter One
Late March, 1889
Maple Grove, Kansas
Tori Henderson’s hand shook as she studied the official-looking envelope. She’d held out hope the letter would never arrive. But she’d only been fooling herself.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Tears sprang to her eyes as she opened the envelope, slid out the paper. All laid out, very formal, very legal. She and her four nieces and nephews had fourteen days to leave their home, at which time the bank would take possession.
Homeless. Her insides shifted.
Her heart sped up as a newspaper with sweat dampened edges beckoned her from the chair near the fireplace. A large red circle, like a kiss, smack in the middle of the page. She’d used her teacher’s pencil one night when she couldn’t sleep. Her eyes moved away from the notice. No, she couldn’t go through with that plan. At best, a crazy idea. There had to be another way. The kids had already been through so much.
Yet, like a magnet, the newspaper drew her. She picked it up, read it once more, and slowly moved to the head of the stairs and shouted, “Michael, gather everyone together for a family meeting.”
She clutched the newspaper in one hand, the offensive letter in the other. Her mind made up, she moved to the parlor and lowered herself, then shifted, bringing her bottom into contact with a loose spring on the worn sofa.
Having the responsibility of four nieces and nephews weighed heavily on her shoulders. Now that she’d decided, she found herself too excited to sit. She hopped up and walked to the window. No buds appeared on trees yet, but it’d been a couple weeks since they’d had real cold weather. Had it been almost a month since her brother Henry’s funeral? Since she’d become a parent?
I’m not going to fail these children. We’re a family, and families take care of their own.
Feet shuffled overhead, and the thud of a door slamming brought her out of her musings. She turned and greeted the children with a bright smile. How she wished she and her brother had been closer. The difference in their ages, and the mutual dislike between Henry and Aunt Martha, the woman who had raised her, had prevented that. If she had watched her nieces and nephews grow up, it would have been a huge help. Instead, she arrived on their doorstep the day of her brother’s funeral, barely knowing which face went with what name.
After spending the last few weeks here, she’d grown to love Henry’s children, and fully intended to do right by them.
Once they were all settled on the run-down couches and chairs, her glance shifted to the four faces watching her with various expressions. She forced her lips into a confident smile. “Listen to what was in the newspaper a few days ago.” She had to keep her voice calm.
“On March 3, 1889, President Harrison announced the government would open the 1.9 million-acre tract of Indian Territory for settlement precisely at noon on April 22. Anyone can join the race for the land.”
She glanced up. Silence greeted her. Not the eagerness she’d hoped for. Her smile faltered.
Rachel, fifteen, in a twenty-year-old’s body, hiked her chin in a stubborn manner. She would be a handful, that one. “I don’t want to move.”
Tori drew in a deep breath. “I realize that, but we have to face the fact that the money your papa left is almost gone, and I haven’t been able to find a job.”
Hunter squirmed. “Not even a teaching job?”
/> Oh how she’d tried. Even with her credentials and experience, she’d had no success. “No, honey. I’ve been told many times it’s too late in the school year for teaching jobs.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well they sure won’t be hiring teachers this late in the year, in—where did you say—Indian Territory?”
Tori counted to ten to keep from snapping at the girl. “I’m sure I can find tutoring jobs until a proper school can be set up. Then there will be teaching jobs.” Based on the smirk Rachel threw her, counting to twenty might be better. “And, I’m a fair baker. I can sell some of my pies and cookies to keep us going in the beginning.”
“You could do that here.” Ellie, the eleven-year-old who'd been her papa's favorite, wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks, her voice trembling slightly.
Tori’s insides twisted. So easy to feel sorry for the little girl. “No, darling, we won’t have a place to live if we stay here. The letter came from the bank today. We have two weeks to move. I can’t pay the mortgage, and the bank has found a buyer for the house.” She tucked a curl behind the little girl’s ear. “The small amount left from your papa’s savings will be enough to just get us there.”
“Where will we live?” Hunter’s brows came together over deep brown eyes with long lashes, so like the mother Tori knew only from pictures. A year older than Ellie, he kept to himself, spending a great deal of time writing in his journal. The child remained a mystery to her.
Tori leaned down and used her soothing teacher voice. “We’ll live in a tent on the land we claim. Then, after a while, we’ll build a real house.”
A mutiny appeared on the horizon. How could a twenty-two-year-old teacher convince four children she barely knew to leave the only home they’d ever known? Another deep breath, and she forged on. She didn’t have a choice.
Wild Western Women Ride Again: Western Historical Romance Boxed Set Page 18
