“Oh, dear,” Charlotte said. “Is that how every bachelor is going to react when he sees me?”
“Maybe for a day or two, but they’ll get over it.”
Pauline’s encouragement didn’t help. A day or two was all Charlotte had. Clearly no man would step forward of his own account. That meant she had to convince someone to marry her. But how? Beatrice was right about one thing. A lifetime commitment shouldn’t be entered into casually. Yet, for Sasha’s sake, Charlotte must find a man willing to marry her.
“Ah, good. Miss Sterling.” Pauline withdrew her comforting arm to wave down Rebecca. “Perhaps you can see to Charlotte. I need to speak with Mr. Brooks.”
As Pauline left, the Orphan Salvation Society agent approached with Amelia Hicks trailing behind her. Rebecca looked just as stricken as Holly. It took a second for Charlotte to realize why. Rebecca would have to take Sasha away from her and return the little girl to the schoolhouse, where the unclaimed orphans were staying. Charlotte’s heart pounded. Rebecca wouldn’t take her daughter away today, would she?
Rebecca wrung her hands, elegantly covered in white lace gloves. “Charlotte?”
Charlotte felt the blood drain from her face.
Rebecca averted her gaze and took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Mr. Armstrong—he’s the head of the Society—insists we adhere to the rules.”
Charlotte waited for the rest to fall.
Rebecca hesitated. “I—I just wanted you to know. If it were up to me, I’d let you keep Sasha. She clearly adores you.”
Tears misted Charlotte’s eyes as the lump in her throat grew. “I can’t lose her,” she choked out. “Is there any other way?”
Rebecca slowly shook her head.
Charlotte held her breath, waiting for the woman to ask her to bring Sasha to the schoolhouse, where the unclaimed orphans were staying.
At last, Rebecca lifted her gaze and squared her shoulders. “The rules don’t say when I must take Sasha back. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be all right for Sasha to stay with you until Monday, until everything’s settled with the judge and...and...well, maybe you’ll find someone.”
She gave Charlotte a hopeful smile, but Charlotte felt only the rush of relief. She could keep Sasha for three more days. And then... The pain came back, even worse.
“That was all I wanted to say.” Rebecca edged away. “I should see to the children.” She hurried off, leaving Charlotte in despair.
“What am I going to do?” She clutched her arms around her midsection.
Amelia gently laid a hand on Charlotte’s clenched arms. She’d been so quiet that Charlotte had forgotten she was there. The petite woman lifted liquid eyes. The depth of sorrow and pain in her expression stunned Charlotte. Amelia wasn’t the prettiest woman in town, nor the most talkative. She tended to keep to herself and skitter off nervously whenever her husband drew near. Who could blame her? She’d married the most obnoxious drunken fool in town. But she was a good woman, who had been very kind to the orphans since their arrival in town. Charlotte, who had barely known her before that, was starting to consider her a friend.
“There are worse things than being alone.” Amelia’s voice was so soft that Charlotte had to listen carefully to hear her.
Such as marrying the wrong man.
“I know. But Sasha...” Charlotte’s throat clotted again. “She’s my little girl.”
Amelia’s tears threatened to overflow. “I hope you can keep her.” She sniffled and pulled out a worn handkerchief. “It’s not fair that we have to marry to...to...” She never managed to finish her sentence, but Charlotte knew what she meant. To have a family.
It wasn’t fair, but she still had to do it. Somehow. Whoever she could get to agree to marry her, she prayed he wouldn’t turn out to be a drunkard or a wife beater.
* * *
Wyatt held his temper in check until he’d left the town hall. Bring his case before the judge? Madam Mayor had some nerve. No doubt she and that Mr. Brooks had concocted this plan overnight. From what Wyatt had learned, the banker wasn’t even from Evans Grove. He also didn’t doubt that the pretty mayor was the source of Brooks’s interest in the matter. He’d seen the way the man looked at her the first time he’d talked to Mayor Evans. Protective. Defending her against all attacks.
The way Wyatt had protected Charlotte Miller by letting her keep Sasha. He’d had to force himself not to look in her direction or risk losing his focus.
What good had that focus done? Thanks to Madam Mayor and her conniving banker friend, he had to convince a judge on Monday that he was right or lose every penny of his fee. How could he sway a judge? He wasn’t a lawyer nor could he afford to hire one.
Wyatt stormed toward the livery. Whenever he had to think things through, he saddled up Dusty and headed for open country. The endless sky and untamed land helped clear his head, and after this little fiasco, he sure needed to do some clearing.
Sweet stars, he’d already made an enormous concession by letting Sasha and three other orphans stay. Baxter would never have agreed to that. The man told him the town wanted all eight. Bring them all, the man had said. What was so special about these eight orphans that two towns were fighting over them?
He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. He’d thought the town would give him more respect if he shaved. Clearly not. They were set on keeping those kids. Greenville was equally determined to get them. Wyatt shook his head. Who knew how long those kids had gone unwanted. Now everyone wanted them. Life was sure full of mysteries, but he suspected the answer to this one could be rooted out with a little effort.
The woman sweeping the porch of the general store shouted out a greeting, jolting him from his thoughts. He mumbled a response and tugged the brim of his hat lower before continuing on to the livery. By the end of the day, he would become the town enemy, and no one would speak to him, not even pretty Charlotte Miller.
His gut knotted a little at the thought of disappointing her. Like the rest of the town, she wanted all the orphans to stay. The best he could do was let her keep her daughter. Sasha’s wide blue eyes danced into his head. He could still feel her trusting arms around his neck. Her trust had felt good, really good.
He found the stable boy dozing on a pile of straw in an empty stall, pitchfork cast aside. Wyatt smiled. No doubt the lad had been up since dawn mucking out the stable. Wyatt’s father had worked him just as hard. A farmer’s work is never done, his pa had told him more times than Wyatt could remember. But Wyatt didn’t love the Illinois farm the way his father had. For as long as he could remember, he’d dreamed of adventure. When the war started, he’d enlisted and never went back. Now it was too late; too late to make amends, too late to explain, too late to tell his father that he’d made the wrong choice. If only they’d reconciled before Pa died.
Life was littered with regrets. Wyatt let the stable boy sleep. He could saddle his own horse.
Dusty snorted when Wyatt drew near, as if to say he didn’t think much of being stuck in a stable. Like Wyatt, his horse spent most days out in the open. They’d traveled across the country together and slept under the stars at night. Dusty had been his only friend. He was also just as stubborn and ornery.
Wyatt flung the saddle blanket on Dusty’s back, and the horse’s ears pricked in anticipation.
“That’s right, boy. We’re heading out onto the prairie.” He patted Dusty’s flank. “A little air’ll do us both good.”
“Leavin’ town?”
Wyatt whirled around to see Sheriff Mason Wright standing outside the stall. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The sheriff didn’t betray an ounce of emotion. “We all got a job to do.” His hard blue eyes pierced through Wyatt, as if trying to read his motives, but Wyatt was good at masking his intentions.
He turned back to saddling Dusty. “You’re right about that. It’s a job.”
“Must pay right fine to work for someone like Baxter.”
Wyatt narrowed his eyes. His gut had warned him not to trust Baxter, and now the sheriff had seconded it. He wasn’t about to tip his hand, though. “Well enough.” He hefted his saddle off the rail.
“Then you are going before the judge.”
“I was hired to bring the orphans to Greenville. Your mayor can drag her heels all she wants, but in the end, they’re going where they belong.”
The sheriff didn’t argue that they should stay in Evans Grove like pretty near everyone else here. Instead, he stroked his mouth, deep in thought. “I see you’re a man of conviction. Probably no use trying to change your mind.”
“That’s right.” Wyatt set the saddle on Dusty’s back. “I trust you’ll uphold the judge’s decision.”
“That’s my job.” But he didn’t sound pleased. A slight tick at the corner of Wright’s mouth betrayed more than passing interest in the outcome of that decision.
Wyatt had no idea what that interest might be, nor did he want to know. A tracker did not get personally involved in others’ lives. “Glad to hear it.”
He hoped their conversation was over, but the sheriff showed no sign of leaving. “Thought you might give up.”
“I never give up.”
“That’s what I heard.”
Ordinarily, that would be a compliment, but Wright said it like he was condemning Wyatt for being inflexible.
“You of all people must understand the law can’t be broken.”
The sheriff had a casual manner about him that belied his true intensity. “It can be changed, though.”
“Too late for that.” Wyatt was getting tired of this conversation. He wished Wright would either get to the point or leave him alone. He cinched the saddle. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”
“Now, that’s going to be tough, isn’t it? Take Widow Miller, for one.”
“Mrs. Miller?” Wyatt’s hands stilled as the pretty woman’s face floated into his head. Something about her drew him like iron to a magnet. “I said the orphans already taken could stay.”
“But she’s a widow now, and only married couples can take in an orphan. Sounds to me like you’ll be taking Sasha with you.”
Wyatt stiffened. Sasha was the whole reason he’d agreed to let the already-placed orphans stay. He couldn’t rip the little girl from Charlotte’s arms. Never in a million years. He couldn’t take Sasha, who had trusted him wholly, to Greenville to be given to another family, end up in Baxter’s orphanage or go back to New York. The whole idea made him sick.
The sheriff drove his point home. “How’s that going to feel, knowing you took a four-year-old girl from her loving mother?”
Wyatt steeled himself. Get in, do the job and get out. No emotional attachments. He couldn’t afford them if he was ever going to get to San Francisco. “That’s not my problem. I’m just upholding the law, the same as you.”
The sheriff grunted. “Guess that’s one way of looking at it.”
“Do you have another way?” Wyatt snapped.
“Like I said, only married couples can take in orphans.”
Wyatt didn’t miss the emphasis on married. The man must be out of his mind. “What do you expect me to do about that?”
Wright tapped his fingers on the stall door. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Neither would I.”
Still, Wright didn’t leave. “You could help the other families. If those kids have to go to Greenville, there’ll be more broken hearts.”
“That’s not my problem, Sheriff. I’m here to do a job. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Too bad.” The sheriff paused before backing away. “Just want you to know that I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Reed.”
Now, that sounded like a warning.
Chapter Five
As soon as Charlotte heard the bell signaling the end of the school day, she hurried to the schoolhouse, Sasha in hand. The exertion and the sun beating down on her black dress made her perspire terribly, but she had to see if Holly had any ideas.
Students hurried away, some to chores and others to play together. Two girls skipped on a hopscotch board drawn in the dirt. Sasha looked longingly in their direction, but the older girls probably wouldn’t welcome the company. Charlotte hurried her up the steps and opened the door.
Holly, Rebecca and Heidi, the last orphan girl still unplaced, were washing slates while Patrick and Tommy, two of the remaining orphan boys, whined to go outside. Liam paced behind Holly, clearly trying to get her permission to do something. Charlotte halted. She’d forgotten that the orphans and Rebecca stayed in the schoolhouse and would be there after school.
The orphan agent looked up at Charlotte and Sasha, who begged to join Heidi.
“Charlotte.” Her eyes instantly averted and her cheeks flushed.
Charlotte had the distinct impression she’d interrupted something, but Holly motioned her to come in.
“I hoped we might talk,” Charlotte said to Holly, then glanced at Rebecca. The woman took the hint with grace.
“Very well, boys. The rest of your chores can wait. We’ll go outside for a little while.”
The boys whooped their approval and scrambled out of the schoolhouse in record time.
Rebecca smiled at their exuberance. “Sasha may join us, if you approve.”
Charlotte let her daughter run to Heidi. Bless Sasha for her eagerness to play with the disfigured girl that most people avoided. To four-year-old eyes, Heidi Strauss was simply a friend. The burn scars on her face from the fire that killed her parents were no more unusual than different-colored eyes or hair.
Rebecca rose but before taking the girls outside, thanked Holly. “It’s an honor. Truly.”
As she passed, Charlotte saw that flush in her cheeks again. What had Holly done that both embarrassed and honored Rebecca?
She didn’t have a chance to ask, for Holly, who looked a bit anxious, brought her straight to the task at hand. “What will you do?”
Charlotte sank into the chair Rebecca had vacated. “I was hoping you would have an idea.”
Holly dipped her rag into a bucket of water and then wrung it. “I usually have the students wipe the slates,” Holly said, “but they’re restless with spring in the air. It happens every year around this time. They can’t sit still for a moment.”
Charlotte picked up Rebecca’s rag and swiped one of the slates. “Two pairs of hands make for light work.” Only that made her think of how she’d soon have only one set of hands in her house if she couldn’t find a husband. “Oh, Holly, I don’t know what to do. Every bachelor in town avoids me like poison ivy.”
Holly chuckled. “They’re just a bit skittish.”
“Skittish? They’re terrified. But I only have tomorrow and Sunday, and I’d have to do the asking.” Charlotte’s hand paused midswipe. “How does a woman ask a man to marry her? What man would agree to such a thing?”
“I don’t know.” Holly shrugged. “You can only try.”
“But who would I ask? I’ve tried to think of someone, anyone, and I come up empty.”
Holly scrunched her face, deep in thought. “There’s Giles DeGraw.”
“You should have seen him run away the moment he saw me looking at him.”
Holly snorted with laughter and then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“It is funny, or it would be if I wasn’t in such a desperate situation.”
Holly leaned both elbows on her desk and propped her head in her hands. “Then Giles is out.”
“He’s also too young. A man in his early twenties isn’t going to marry a thirty-one-year-old woman.”
“But you’re so beautiful.” Holly sighed. “You look years younger.”
Charlotte could never reconcile Holly’s insistence that she was beautiful with the image that reflected back at her in the mirror. “I’m not young, and everyone knows it. I think we need to confine ourselves to the older bachelors and widowers.”
“Widowers? Well, there’s Elmer Dr
oll. He lost his wife last year.”
“Elmer Droll!” Charlotte stared at her friend. “He must be sixty-five years old.”
Holly shrugged. “It is a last resort.”
“It’s no resort at all.” Still, Charlotte was ashamed that the thought had already occurred to her, along with the even more shameful thought that he wouldn’t live that long after they wed. “I can’t imagine...you know...if he...” She couldn’t bring herself to say aloud that she couldn’t bear to perform her wifely duties in such a marriage. She choked back rising bile. “But I suppose I might have to.”
Holly took her hand. “No, no. Don’t even think it. There are lots of other prospects. Take Colton Hayes, for instance. Now, there’s a handsome man.”
Charlotte couldn’t disagree with that. The tall rancher had made many a heart flutter, just not hers. “But he’s so dedicated to taking care of his parents and the ranch. He hasn’t seen anyone since his father’s injury and his mother took ill, has he?”
Holly shook her head.
“Poor man. He has so many responsibilities. I couldn’t ask him to take on a wife and child, too, not with his parents in such ill health.” Charlotte pressed her fingers against the cool slate. It reminded her of childhood, when she’d dreamed of finding her prince and living happily ever after.
Holly sighed. “I can’t think of anyone else. There’s not another man in town who meets your criteria.” She glanced at the schoolhouse clock. “I’m sorry, but I need to meet Mason. If I think of anyone, I’ll let you know right away.”
Charlotte’s heart sank. Holly and Mason would soon marry. They would have the family she so desired. Her shoulders slumped. “I understand.”
Suddenly, a glint of excitement lit Holly’s eyes. “There is one other possibility. Wyatt Reed.”
Her words knifed through Charlotte.
“Mr. Reed?” She could barely choke out his name.
“He is handsome.”
“He’s the enemy.”
Holly’s expression drooped for a second before her innate optimism returned. “Perhaps to some people, but not for you. He said that the orphans who were already placed could stay. I’m sure that’s because of you and Sasha.”
Christine Johnson Page 5
