Star Wishes
Sarah Keevers had lived and worked in an orphanage in St. Louis since she was five years old. She’d stayed on to protect the younger children from the harsh headmistress. Now, she’s inherited money from a grandfather she never knew she had, and she wants to take the children far away. The only problems are the children don’t legally belong to her, and women have no legal rights in 1856.
So, Sarah changes her name to Samuel Kees, disguises the children, and heads west with her new family. She settles in Big Springs and meets up with Abe West, the local sheriff, and his brother, Ike. The two men discover her secret and decide she’d make the perfect wife.
They’re going to do everything they can to earn her trust. Will they be able to protect Sarah, and hold on to her love when her picture shows up on a wanted poster for kidnapping?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 83,693 words
STAR WISHES
Missy Martine
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
STAR WISHES
Copyright © 2012 by Missy Martine
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-845-6
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Star Wishes by Missy Martine from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Missy Martine’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Martine’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
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www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
As always, this book is dedicated to my wonderful, loving husband. He helped me to realize I shouldn’t waste my time on trying to write in a genre that wasn’t comfortable for me. From now on, I’ll only write what’s in my heart.
And a special thanks to my eighth grade teacher who first instilled a fascination for history in me. I truly think I was born in the wrong time. I should have lived my life in a small town somewhere in Nevada around the late 1800s.
STAR WISHES
MISSY MARTINE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1
Twenty-one-year-old Sarah Keevers pressed her hands tightly against the aching muscles of her back before reaching for another wet sheet to hang on the slightly drooping, frayed rope she’d strung from the house to the only tree in the backyard of her present home. Not that anyone could call the Grover Street Orphan Asylum a home. It was more like a prison for unwanted children. Sarah’s infamous gunslinger father brought her to the orphanage right after her mother died. She’d been only five years old, and Mad Dog Keevers hadn’t wanted the responsibility of caring for a little girl.
The sound of laughter had her turning quickly toward the yard next door, and then wincing when the wear-worn material of her blouse rubbed across the fresh welts on her back. She’d received a strapping from the Headmistress of the home the night before in response to a broken plate after the evening meal. It hadn’t mattered that she was innocent. She’d happily take the punishment if it kept the younger children safe. She watched while the family next door piled into their horse-drawn carriage.
“No amount of star wishing is gonna git me what I want, Ma.” Blinking back tears, she went back to the seemingly never-ending basket of wet laundry and tried to push back the grief that poured over her. The only thing Sarah had ever wished for was a family of her own to love and take care of. There had never been anyone willing to adopt the little girl with the outlaw father. Even now, fourteen years later, his name could still send fear racing through decent folks. So, she’d grown up watching other children come and go. When she turned sixteen, she could have left, but she’d made a deal with Hannah Rivers. She cooked and cleaned and in return had a pallet in the pantry for sleeping and two meals a day. It wasn’t much of a life, but it allowed her to stay close and keep watch over the younger children.
“Miss Sarah, Miss Sarah!”
She turned and watched eight-year-old Jonathan Potter race down the back steps. “Don’t run, Jonathan.”
“I’m so sorry, Miss Sarah.” The small boy threw his arms around her knees, hugging her tightly. Dirt-smudged tears traced a path down his grimy cheeks. “You should’ve told Miss Rivers it was me that done it.”
Sarah pulled his arms loose, and then dropped to her knees to hug him close. “It’s all right, Jonathan. I’m not hurt at all.” She pulled back and used her sleeve to wipe the tears from his face. “You just need to be more careful, and not play ball in the house. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded solemnly. “How come you still live here? Ain’t you old enough to leave yet?”
She chuckled and tweaked him under the chin. “I’m plenty old enough, boy. But if I left, who’d take care of you and all the others?”
“Daniel and me lost our Ma and Pa when their wagon turned over. What happened to yours?”
Sarah frowned and wondered how much she should tell the little boy. Just two days after her Ma had died of consumption, her Pa had dropped her off in St. Louis in front of this very house. The law had questioned her off and on over the years in hopes s
he might remember places that her father liked to hide out, but she’d never been able to tell them anything of importance. Then, about ten years ago, a deputy shot Mad Dog Keevers in the back during a bank robbery. “Both of my parents are dead, Jonathan. They died a long time ago.”
“Didn’t you have no brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles?”
“I’m afraid not. I’m the last one of my family.”
Jonathan focused his gaze toward the front of the house. “Who do you think that is? Do you think he’s here to adopt a little boy?”
Sarah turned to see what had drawn the boy’s interest. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare and spotted a fancy-dressed man climbing out of a horse-drawn carriage. He was carrying some kind of expensive-looking case. “I don’t know, Jonathan. He’s probably just here to talk business with Miss Rivers.”
“So you don’t think he might like to have a couple of little boys?”
Sarah looked at Jonathan and bit her lip. The boy and his brother Daniel wanted to stay together, and she knew that wasn’t always possible. She glanced back at the man hurrying toward the front door. “It’s usually a couple that wants to adopt a child, Jonathan. That man doesn’t have a wife with him.”
The boy frowned, looking disappointed. “You sure?”
She smiled. “I’m sure. Why don’t you run and get yourself a cookie out of the jar in the kitchen? But, make sure nobody catches you.”
“Thanks, Miss Sarah.” He gave her a quick hug, and then scampered off.
* * * *
Hannah Rivers looked over at Raymond Estes and smiled. Ten years ago he’d come to the door looking for work, and she’d never regretted giving him a chance. His dark-brown hair was only slightly tinted with gray, while his six-foot frame had grown flabby over the years. She’d hired him to do some heavy lifting and to handle the discipline of the older boys, and it had turned out to be a good match. He was loyal and obedient, and had as few scruples as she did. She patted the severe bun of dark-gray hair at the base of her neck. “The Mathers boy is supposed to be delivered this Saturday.”
He looked up from his newspaper and frowned. “I know the schedule. How do you want to handle it? I can put him on the train, but it’ll cost about twenty dollars for the short ride.”
“Absolutely, not. I’m not going to waste hard-earned money on something as frivolous as a train ride. Can’t you send a wire and have the Jamesons come and get the boy?”
“Part of your deal with them was to deliver him.” Raymond laughed. “I think old man Jameson is afraid the boy will put up a fuss and doesn’t want the embarrassment of having to haul him away in a wagon.”
Hannah pursed her lips. She’d once had dreams of a husband and family of her own, but those dreams had long been dead. Now, she concentrated on putting away enough money so she could leave St. Louis and retire in style. She earned that money by arranging for special adoptions. There were plenty of farmers and ranchers that were willing to pay a fee to get their hands on young boys they could put to work in their fields. She’d even managed to sell some of the girls as companions and nannies. It was for their own good, really. There weren’t too many people willing to take on an older child for adoption. “Maybe we should just drive him down. It’d be good to get away from these walls for a day or two.”
Raymond got to his feet. “Who’ll look after things here?”
“We can leave Sarah in charge. She’s certainly old enough, and the children like her well enough to stay on their best behavior while we’re gone.” She narrowed her eyes and smiled. “I can even make sure they know that she’ll be the one to suffer if they act up while we’re away.”
“It’ll have to be a two-day trip. One day there, and one day back.”
“That’ll be fine, and the Jamesons can just put us up for the night so it—” A loud knocking at the front door interrupted her thoughts. She nodded toward the hall. “Go see who that is.” She watched Raymond shuffle out of the room and sighed, thinking about all the cash she had hidden away. “I’ve just got to hang on a little bit longer and I’ll have enough money to go back East.” A sharp rapping knock on her door brought her gaze up.
“Miss Rivers, this here gentleman is Mr. Robert Levine. He says he’s from some law firm in New York City.” Raymond moved closer and raised his brow. “He’s looking for Sarah Keevers.” He turned back to the distinguished-looking man standing in the doorway. “Mr. Levine, this is Miss Hannah Rivers, the Headmistress of Grover Street Orphan Asylum.”
Robert Levine looked around the room, his lip curling. The man was young and handsome, probably in his mid-twenties. As she watched, he pulled his black case closer against his side. He looked up and grimaced briefly before stepping forward to hold out his hand. “How do you do, Miss Rivers?”
Hannah kept her seat. “How do you do, Mr. Levine. May I ask what you want with our Sarah?”
Robert looked from Hannah to Raymond and then back. “I have private business to discuss with her. Is she here?”
Hannah exchanged a look with Raymond and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but she’s not here today. Is there something I can help you with? I am her legal guardian.” She pointed toward the hard, straight-backed chair in front of her desk. “Won’t you have a seat?”
Robert frowned, biting his lip, and then raked his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure?” He moved forward and almost wilted into the chair, setting his case on the floor. “I was under the impression she’s over the age of eighteen and doesn’t need a legal guardian.”
Hannah hesitated, and then gave a brittle laugh. “That’s true, technically, but since she’s been with me since she was just a little girl, I have more of a motherly feeling toward her. I certainly don’t want anything to happen to the precious girl.”
Robert smiled, and picked up his case and placed it on Hannah’s desk. “I understand completely. I can assure you I’m not here to cause her any problems, in fact, I’m here to bring her some good news.”
Raymond moved closer and perched on the edge of the desk. “What kind of good news?”
“Miss Keevers is the sole beneficiary of one of my firm’s clients.” He pulled open the case and drew out some papers.
“How can that be?” asked Hannah. “The girl doesn’t have any living relatives.”
“Actually, that’s not true. She has a maternal grandfather that’s been looking for her for years. He only found out he had a granddaughter a couple of years ago when he came across letters his daughter had written to his wife after she ran off and eloped with Elijah Keevers. Apparently his wife never revealed the letters so he’d had no idea of his daughter’s death, or of the female child she’d left behind.” He glanced up at Raymond and then back to Sarah. “He felt terrible at never having seen his only daughter again and became obsessed with finding his granddaughter.”
Raymond leaned closer. “How did he find the girl?”
“Our firm hired an investigator. They finally found Sarah a few months back, and then her grandfather took ill and died a few weeks later. He left a will specifying that his assets were to be liquidated. He left a sizeable amount of money to his only living relative, Miss Sarah Keevers.” Robert gave them a wide smile. “I’m here to see that the money is turned over to her.”
Hannah studied him for a moment. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. You’re here because you have a bank draft for Sarah from her grandfather.”
Robert developed a dull, red flush in his cheeks and he lowered his gaze to the floor. “Um, not exactly. I actually have cash for her.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and turned toward the window. “If you’re here to give Sarah some pittance of money, then you can just leave it with me and I’ll make sure she receives it.”
Robert cleared his throat. “It’s more than a pittance. It’s sizeable and I have to have her signature to release it.” He glanced back at the door, and lowered his voice. “He left her five thousand dollars.”
/> Hannah pulled in a breath.
Raymond shot to his feet. “You mean to tell me you have five thousand dollars in that case of yours?”
Robert coughed, and reached up to straighten his tie before he nodded. “That’s correct.” His voice sounded like a raspy whisper.
“Mr. Levine, what on earth would possess someone to send cash instead of a bank draft? Why, the idea is ludicrous.” Hannah forcefully loosened her hands from where they clenched on the chair arm.
“Marcus Winston was a very basic man. When he learned his granddaughter had grown up in an orphanage, and never seen anything of the world, he was sure having to deal with lawyers and banks would make her nervous. He didn’t want her to feel that way. He felt that giving her the cash, to do with whatever she wanted, would be more comfortable for the girl.” Robert shrugged. “And, since he left the instructions in his last will and testament our firm is bound by law to carry out his wishes.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Are you an attorney, Mr. Levine?”
“No, I’m merely an associate of the firm. I’m studying law while I work for them.”
“Hmm, well, regardless, the girl is away today and won’t return until late tomorrow or the next day.”
Robert winced, and gave a heavy sigh. “That’s unfortunate. I had hoped to be back on the train this evening heading home to my family.”
“Well, you’re in luck, Mr. Levine.” She pointed to Raymond. “Mr. Estes is affianced to Sarah.” She cut her gaze over to Raymond, hoping he didn’t open his mouth. “She’s actually shopping for a wedding dress.” She smiled at the look of revulsion on Robert’s face. “You can turn the money over to him since, legally, after the wedding, everything she owns will belong to him anyway.” She breathed a sigh of relief when Raymond only smiled at the bemused man.
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