Although the town was growing rather quickly and he never wanted for work, Barrett never turned work away. Whatever money he didn’t need for necessities, he saved. Barrett was sure the banker was aware he’d accumulated a good amount and didn’t need the order to survive.
However, of all the townspeople, the banker was one Barrett didn't particularly care to have against him. Although the man was arrogant and hard to like, Barrett figured a few moments discussing what Downey expected was not too big a price to pay in exchange for a good-sized furniture request.
It was late afternoon by the time Barrett finally made his way to the stables to leave his horse.
The overly lean stable hand, Milford Johnson, greeted him and Fella with enthusiasm. A wide grin in place he motioned to an empty stall.
“Sure is quiet around here,” Milford said with a frown. “Seems like everyone is stayin’ home today.”
Barrett imagined it had to be boring with only horses for company most days. Actually, he understood, as his only companion was Fella most days.
“I think you see more people during the week than I do.” Barrett helped Milford brush down his horse that was already helping itself to the grain. “I see other folks once, at the most twice a week.”
“Hmm.” Milford was not prepared to give Barrett the upper hand. “Well, I’ve only seen you since this mornin’.”
“Going to eat over at Mrs. Wilkes’, if you care to come.”
Milford shook his head. “Expectin’ people to come pick up these horses in a bit.” He pointed to the stalls where horses stood. “Hear about the newcomers?”
“No.” Barrett wasn’t the least bit interested, but he figured Milford needed the company, so he settled into a worn wooden chair by the barn entrance.
The stable hand settled into a rocker with a grin, glad to see Barrett was staying for a bit. “Yes. The Carvers’ eldest son, John, returned. They’re havin’ a welcome reception after church on Sunday.”
Barrett made a mental note for Maggie. “You don’t say. He’s been gone for about three years now. I’m surprised to hear he came back.”
“Workin’ at the shop with his pa is what I hear. Roger ain’t ready to retire, but he could use the help. The way this town is growin’, two barbers are warranted.”
“Who else arrived on the train?” Barrett patted Fella’s head. Maggie would be happy. Milford could talk until the sun came down.
“A pretty young thing. Accordin’ to Danny Sullivan, he’s never seen a woman so lovely.” He referred to the mercantile owner’s fourteen-year-old son who earned extra money at the train station helping with luggage and such.
Barrett was intrigued. “Who is she kin to?”
“That’s the interestin’ thing. The lady was alone and some family with an unruly bunch of youngin’s mistakenly took her things.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothin’ could be done. She walked over to the hotel. Danny said she was distraught and looked to be sick about it.”
“I can imagine.”
Thinking back when he arrived in the west, he could relate with the woman. He’d barely been able to walk, much less carry his belongings. It had taken several trips to gather everything into the newly purchased wagon. It wasn’t until hitching the horse that he’d lost all his strength and passed out.
Thankfully, the Hendersons, who’d been nearby, along with Mrs. Wilkes took it upon themselves to see about him. Something in him tugged at hearing the woman’s story.
“Did Danny get her name?”
Milford shook his head. “No, but I don’t imagine she’ll be hard to find.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, Barrett stood. “I better go see about supper. I’ll be back for my horse in a couple hours. Have to get some sundries and maybe I’ll see about a haircut being we have two barbers now.”
As he made his way to Mrs. Wilkes’, he looked to the hotel. Other than the usual group of men who gathered to discuss whatever they considered urgent at the moment, the front of the building was empty, the front door shut.
For a brief moment, he considered eating there on the off chance of finding the woman. Although it was none of his business, it would be a nice thing to do, helping someone in distress.
A thought struck. He could speak to Mrs. Wilkes about the situation. The woman always had good advice. She’d lead him in the right direction.
Christina could barely keep her eyes open. Although she felt somewhat better, an entire day of idleness was not something she liked. After seeking out the mayor and finding that he’d gone out of town until the next evening, she’d gone to speak to the schoolmarm.
The meek woman had been of little help. She stated that she could not offer her a position or a place to live without permission from the town’s council.
Finally, she’d returned to the hotel and after requesting a cup of coffee and a piece of bread, she remained in the room.
One more night, perhaps two would begin adding up.
The price was steep for her already dwindling funds and anxiety constantly nipped, making it hard to think clearly.
As evening finally set in, Christina lay on the bed and closed her eyes, weariness like a heavy blanket over her bones.
At first, Christina thought the shuffling sound was part of a dream. The shifting and soft click of a door prodded at the edges of her sleep until she fought to wake. When a hand covered her mouth, she was instantly awake.
The falling sun hid her assailant’s features, but she still recognized who it was. With one hand on her mouth and his left arm across her chest, the hotel owner labored to roll Christina onto her back.
The blanket made it difficult for her to fight back, but she managed to get her right hand out and slap at his face. It became hard to breathe and she labored not to give in to panic.
“Stop fighting. If you just go along with it, you can stay as long as you want. Don’t have to pay for anything.” The man’s heated whispers accompanied by his harsh breaths flamed over her already sweat-drenched face.
Wide-eyed as the meaty hand barely left enough space for her to take a full breath, she shook her head side to side and, once again, hit him. For what seemed like hours they struggled.
Despite panic filling her, Christina vowed to fight until every ounce of strength was gone and then fight more.
Thunk. She’d managed to unbalance him with a buck of her hips and he tumbled to the floor, giving her the opportunity to scramble away.
Christina scurried to the corner of her room and lifted up the water pitcher.
“Get out. Get out now!” Whether tears or sweat, she didn’t know the origin of the salty taste filling her mouth when she swallowed. “Leave me be!”
The door swung wide, slamming against the wall and the window rattled. Did he have an accomplice? “Get out!” Once again she cried, swinging the pitcher blindly. “Help!”
A woman wearing a long nightgown stood in the doorway. Her cold gaze moved with strange slowness from Christina to the man who got to his feet.
“What is going on?” Her narrowed eyes locked to the pitcher Christina held in her trembling hands.
“This girl called me her to her room, saying there was something wrong. Then she went crazy.” The man ducked his head and slid a look toward Christina. “I thought she was going to kill me.” He rushed past the woman, shoving her out of his way. “Get rid of her.”
“I was fast asleep...”Christina started, but the woman shushed her.
“Get your things and get out. I don’t care to hear what your excuse is. Harlots come into town all the time looking to take my husband.”
“I have nowhere to go. I paid for two nights.” By the looks of the darkness outside, it was the middle of the night. Several hours until daybreak. “I will leave first thing in the morning. Please.”
The woman let out a huff, her nostrils flared and lips pressed together as she seemed to contemplate what to do. “I’ll be back at the break o
f dawn. You best be gone.” She turned and slammed the door behind her.
There would be no sleeping this night. Christina sunk to the floor and sobbed until light announced she had to depart.
CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER SEVEN
Judge Withers was an older man. He had kind, bright blue eyes that were emphasized by his startling silver-gray hair. The man studied Christina as, once again, she wiped at her eyes with his handkerchief.
“I’m sorry for what you have been through, young lady. I have some idea of who the family is who may have taken your belongings, which I’m sure happened by accident.”
Christina wasn’t sure what to do next as the man had read the letter from Lady Price, but had yet to offer her a position. “I would appreciate anything you could do for me. I’m not afraid of hard work.”
The man’s lips curved. “I believe you. Now let’s take it one thing at a time. For now, you need a safe place to live. Unfortunately, our schoolteacher lives in a tiny cottage with barely enough room for one person. By her dour disposition when I spoke to her about it last, I wager to guess, it’s less than adequate.” The statement must have brought a thought because he lifted his quill and scribbled notes across a paper.
They sat in what she assumed was the front parlor. Although the home was well-appointed, it was not overly large. From what she’d seen thus far, people in Blanchard Creek lived in smaller houses than back east. Being the man before her was the town’s mayor, she’d expected a grand home.
“Your Honor. Is there someone who seeks a maid, perhaps?”
“Don’t go calling me that. Everyone calls me Judge Withers or Judge for short.” He chuckled and patted her hand. “The Missus should be here any moment, if that blasted boy didn’t get distracted by a leaf or something.” He laughed at his own joke.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The young lad I sent off to fetch her. He’s the son of our housekeeper, Nan. The boy is about as keen as a rock.” His face brightened. “Ah, there she is now.”
The woman who entered seemed much younger than the mayor, but when she neared Christina noticed the soft lines on her pretty face.
She smiled at Christina, instantly putting her thumping heart at ease. The woman turned to her husband. “Honestly, Matthew, you could have kept this lovely young woman company until I finished tea. You know how particular your mother is about anyone leaving tea early.”
Although the woman pretended to scold her husband, she kissed his face the entire time. “I’m sure you will get an earful on Sunday.”
“Aren’t you a beauty,” the woman exclaimed nearing Christina. “I am Olive Withers, welcome.”
It was hard not to continue weeping at the kindness. Her eyes were so swollen, Christina was sure she’d not be able to see if she kept it up. “I’m Christina Mills. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Olive Withers looked to her husband, the silent communication between the couple obvious. They knew she was without resources or any place to go.
The housekeeper who’d brought her tea upon arriving entered the room and looked to Mrs. Withers. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Goodness no, Nan. I’ve had enough tea to last me until tomorrow. Please prepare the table for three for supper.” She turned to Christina. “You will stay for dinner, won’t you?”
Christina nodded and sniffed into the handkerchief. “Yes, thank you.”
“Now, go along, Dear. I would like to spend some time with Miss Mills. You are free to go and squander the next few hours with those hounds of yours.”
The mayor stood and looked down his nose at his wife and Christina. “The hounds and I are about to walk around town and see about the citizens.”
It was charming to see the soft smile on Olive’s face as the mayor left. Her gaze tracked her husband until he disappeared. “Darling man, but he loves those dogs more than he does me, I do believe.” She chuckled. “Don’t fret, dear. I’m sure we will come up with a solution to your situation.”
All Christina wanted to do at the moment was sleep and wake up at home. Although her existence had been less than perfect, it was better than the possibility of having no place to sleep, nowhere to live. “I appreciate that you’re taking the time to help me. You don’t know me.”
The woman’s warm gaze met hers. “I would say it’s the Christian thing to do, but I have a more personal reason. I was once in a dire situation and a stranger helped me during that dark time. Now, I know this is my opportunity to make things right.” She patted Christina’s hand. “Let’s go into the kitchen and get something in your stomach. Afterwards, we are going to visit a friend of mine.”
It was a pretty day, all things considered. Christina wished she’d had a change of clothing, but at least she’d been able to freshen up in the small room that Mrs. Withers showed her to.
Walking alongside Olive gave her the opportunity to take in the town. When they neared the hotel, a shiver went up her spine. She’d not said anything to the mayor’s wife about her interaction with the owners.
Her heart dropped at seeing the mayor standing in front of the building. He spoke with a younger man who held a cane. Next to his side was a dog. Could it be? Was it Alexander?
“Who is your husband speaking to?” she blurted, then flushed hoping Olive didn’t think her of loose morals.
Olive glanced over and her lips curved. “Barrett. Yes, he is a very nice young man. Has a heart of gold to match that handsome face.”
So it was not Alexander Patterson. Disappointment soon turned to panic as Charles Bloom exited the hotel.
Christina tried to walk faster, but Olive maintained the slow pace and to her alarm, stopped to look at a baby in a carriage. “Oh goodness, look at how big little Rachel has gotten.” The mother smiled broadly and was promptly introduced to Christina, who struggled to keep an eye on the men across the street.
With her heart beating so loudly in her ears, she barely caught the name of the baby’s mother. She managed to maintain a civil conversation until noting the hotel owner’s wife had come outside and stood on the walkway.
The woman looked over and met Christina’s gaze. She said something to the men and pointed toward where she stood.
Every head turned and Christina looked back to the baby pretending not to notice. If the woman slandered her name, the Withers’ would turn her away. She’d be without recourse. She’d have to find a way to wire Lady Price for money to go to Montana where her associate was. The entire plan to marry Alexander Patterson was gone, she was sure of it.
“Seems we have garnered attention,” Olive said, her lips in a tight line. She took Christina’s arm as they continued onward. “That woman is always up to no good.”
“Wh..who?”
“Cornelia Bloom. Mark my words Christina, avoid her at all costs.”
If only the warning would have come two days earlier. Nothing could be done now. If Cornelia accused her of seducing her husband to the mayor, all was lost.
“Ah, here comes Barrett.” Olive moved to stand under the awning in front of a shop.
Hat in his left hand and cane in his right, with each step he took, he leaned toward the right, his upper body swaying. Although he walked with a pronounced limp, the assuredness in his demeanor by the square of his shoulders and head held high came across as confidence.
Slants for brows over almond-shaped, dark brown eyes competed for attention with a strong dimpled jaw and full, sensuous lips. As he neared, it was evident that he’d recently gotten his thick, coffee brown locks cut.
Barrett was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Suddenly, heat surfaced to her neck and face and Christina fought not to meet his gaze knowing he’d notice her eyes were swollen and her nose reddened from crying.
“Hello, Barrett. How are you today?” Olive held out a hand and the tall man squeezed it.
His gaze moved to Christina and back to Olive. “I am well.”
“Thi
s is Christina Mills, she’s just moved to our town. We are going to visit Mrs. Wilkes to inquire about a temporary position.”
Barrett nodded at her and touched the brim of his hat. “Welcome to Blanchard Creek, Miss Mills.”
Too flustered to speak, Christina nodded in return and attempted at a smile. When she looked down to the dog at his side, it became easier to relax.
“This is Fella. Say hello to the ladies, Fella.”
The huge dog lowered and lifted his head and then held up his right paw.
“Isn’t that precious?” Olive exclaimed. “I hadn’t seen him do that before.”
Barrett beamed. “Just taught him that trick.”
They continued to walk, now a trio. Olive slid a look to Barrett. “What were the Blooms complaining about this time?”
“Nothing of importance,” he replied and cleared his throat.
One could spend hours looking at someone so attractive. Although obviously injured in some way, there was no doubt he garnered women’s attention. Refreshing to note, he greeted passersby and continued the conversation about a friend and his wife expecting and making a crib. The man did not seem arrogant in the least.
A thought struck. Could it be he was related to the man she was due to marry? Perhaps the limp was genetic to his family. There wasn’t a way to ask him at the moment. Perhaps she’d be able to find out from Olive, later.
There were too many coincidences to the man she’d written. Alexander also had a dog and held a cane. The picture was too blurry to be sure, but it had to either be this man or a relative of his.
They arrived at what looked to be an eating establishment and, immediately, Fella let out an exited bark and rushed off around the back of the building.
“Come, Christina. Let’s meet Mrs. Wilkes and you can tell us everything.” Olive took her arm and guided her to the back of the building.
Christina held her breath. Would Barrett be present? Hopefully not.
Yet, a part of her hated to part ways with him.
CHRISTINA, A BRIDE FOR CHRISTMAS
Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas Page 77
