Wooing the Widow (Cowboys and Angels Book 8)
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Wooing the Widow
Cowboys and Angels Book 8
Sara Jolene
Copyright © 2017 by Sara Jolene
Cover Art by Erin Dameron Hill/ EDH Graphics
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
“When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker … but as survivors.”
― Jenny Lawson, Furiously Happy: A Funny Book about Horrible Things
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Also by Sara Jolene
About the Author
What’s Next for Cowboys and Angels
Chapter One
The old stove was warm but no match for the howling wind against the canvas walls. Nora handed baby Tommy off to his sister and told her to huddle together with him and the other two little ones close to the open door of the stove. The winter had been harsh and the wind had picked up, making the temperature drop even further. February in Colorado was rough, but even rougher when the only shelter was a one room canvas mining tent.
Nora fretted as she stoked the fire and added another small log. She’d gotten a notice the day before. There was a new man coming in to take Nathaniel ’s place in camp. She and the children were going to have to find another place to stay. She hadn’t a clue where they’d go. Her eldest, Willie was working for the nice man at the mercantile in Creede and bringing in a good wage, but he was just a child. What he was making wouldn’t put a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.
She blamed herself. She’d lost touch with everyone and everything after Nathaniel ’s accident. She should have been doing all she could to find work, but she hadn’t been able to get out of bed. Tommy had been born just days after the mining accident, leaving her with five children to raise on her own. Willie and his sister Bekka had been the only reason their little family had survived.
She hadn’t any idea what had been so wrong that she couldn’t care for her own children. She’d seen widows before. What had happened to her husband was terrible, and she mourned the loss of him…but this was like no mourning she’d ever seen. And then the baby had come. She’d been so excited to have another boy. Willie finally had a brother. But just a few days after she’d given birth, she was only half awake and seemed to stay that way for several months afterword.
Summer had come and gone, as had autumn. When winter arrived, Nora knew she had to get herself together. They wouldn’t survive otherwise. So she fought harder, but it was no use. Until one day, Willie had come home from his work at the mercantile with a warm supper. Mortimer and his new wife, Toria, had sent them a meal. Nora was amazed to find that the next morning, she woke and felt close to how she’d felt before. She’d helped Bekka with washing up the little ones, and had even managed to mix together some very dry biscuits for them for breakfast.
Things had improved since then. Every day she’d woken up, she’d become a little more like she used to be, and every day it happened made her happier. She’d even started to get into town. She’d gone into Bachelor a few times to church services, and on the rare occasion, even made it into Creede. She’d had Willie take her to meet Mortimer and his wife. She felt indebted to them and wanted to thank them. She wasn’t sure how much they knew about Willie and their life, but she knew that they’d saved her. She wasn’t sure how, but they had.
The fire was barely keeping the chill out of the tent. At least they were protected from the wind. Nora perked up as Willie came through the flap carrying a large pot.
“Mama, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson sent this for us. It might be the best chicken I’ve ever tasted.” He pulled a lumpy crumpled package from inside his coat and handed it to her. “Biscuits. Mrs. Jackson sent those, as well as a message. She says that Sophia could use your help in the morning.”
Nora took the pot from her eldest son. “You’re a good boy, Willie.” The little ones all hopped up and raced to their brother, pulling on his coat and tugging him closer to the fire. Nora set the pot on top of the mostly broken stove. “Bekka dear, tomorrow you’ll have to watch your brother and sisters while Willie and I go to Creede. Mrs. Clay has work for me, and I’ll need to secure us a new place to stay.”
Bekka nodded. She was a sweet girl. Nora watched as the girl spooned out portions of the warm chicken in thick gravy for her siblings. People said she looked identical to Nora. Their hair was the same shimmering strawberry blonde, and they had the same spattering of freckles across their cheeks. Bekka’s eyes were different, though. Just like her father’s, they were sky blue, whereas Nora’s were green. Bekka had been the only one that had gotten Nathaniel ’s eyes. Willie and Joy both had his other features in spades, however; the slope of his nose, and the roundness of his cheeks. She couldn’t help but think of him each time she looked at any of their children.
Nora tried not to think about Nathaniel as much as possible. She didn’t ever want to go back to that place she’d felt trapped in. She wasn’t sure that his death had been what caused it, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Theirs hadn’t been the happiest of marriages, but it hadn’t been horrible either. She’d fallen for him slowly over a year’s time. Nathaniel had tried to court her when they’d been in school together, but Nora had always shirked his advances. Her parents had wanted her to move east and become a seamstress. Nora had always thought it far-fetched, but she’d loved her parents fiercely and had wanted to make them happy. She’d worked hard and had become quite good at sewing. She’d sold her dresses in town and had started mending for local folks to save money to move to New York. But it had taken a long time, and in that time Nathaniel hadn’t given up.
He’d show up at her house with a fist full of field daisies, asking if she could walk with him. Or he’d save her a seat in his pew at church on Sunday. Eventually his charm wore her down, and against her parents’ wishes, she’d married Nathaniel and moved to Bachelor when she was just seventeen years old. Before she knew it, her belly was growing. She had written to her parents a lot back then, but she hadn’t in a long while. They were disappointed in her, and it hurt to think about how much she’d defied them.
Nora looked down at the bowl Bekka had just handed her, the rich aroma lifting to her nose and causing her stomach to growl. Leaving behind the thoughts that had been swirling in her head, Nora lifted her spoon and began to eat.
Dr. James Thomas. JT couldn’t stop staring at his name on the smart-looking plaque. He’d had the Hans make it to hang out front on a post. He’d figured it would be good for folks to have a way to spot where he was. The cabin was nestled in a thicket of trees on the road between Bachelor and Creede, which made for easy accessibility from each town. Right now, with no leaves on the trees, the cabin was easy to see. But soon that wouldn’t be the case.
JT had shown up in Creede a few months before, after answering an ad
looking for doctors that he’d found in a paper back east. Turned out the Reverend Bing had decided that Bachelor and Creede needed more than miners and vagrants to inhabit them if there was any hope of them becoming real towns. He’d placed ads for all types of things—schoolteachers, doctors, nurses, even cooks, seamstresses and lawmen. He’d been worried when he first boarded the train in Philadelphia that he’d not be able to make it in a town like Bachelor, but he’d been pleasantly surprised. Most of the people in both towns were plenty welcoming, and the ones that weren’t usually changed their tune after their second or third patch-up. Once they’d had too much whiskey and tried to outsmart Archie or another in his gang and gotten a fist or two to the face, Dr. JT seemed to be their favorite man in the world.
The cabin had been quiet so far, and though he knew he’d kick himself for it later, he found himself wondering why no one had been in yet. It wasn’t that he was as busy as an office in a city would be, but Bachelor and Creede were mining towns. There were lots of children, and he seemed to be seeing a patient or two a day, at least. But so far today he hadn’t seen a single person. Hannah hadn’t even come in.
Hannah had been a great asset to the office. She was well trained in female health, and he was thankful to have her in town. There was a short time where he thought that he’d be thankful for her crossing his path in a different way, but that hadn’t worked out. Hannah had found her happily ever after, though. She’d married the new marshal, Henry Wheeler, and JT had barely seen her since. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. She wanted to spend time with her new husband. JT could only hope for a wife like that someday.
He’d almost had a wife. But not one he’d gotten to choose. He’d never been in love. His parents had arranged his life so perfectly for him from the moment he was born, he never had to think about anything other than how to get out. The girl they’d insisted he marry was pretty, with her small frame and blonde hair. She was dainty and wore pale pink dresses that washed out her skin and made her look ghostly. Her name was Abigail, and as much she had been excited for their union, he’d been the opposite. He didn’t want a dainty wife that he left each morning to go work at the family bank where he’d wear a tight tie, drink too much coffee, and look down on people. That had never been the life he’d wanted. He wanted to help people. Heal people. Leaving home and his preordained life had been the best thing he’d ever done.
JT didn’t mind being alone. Most days he enjoyed it. It was nice not having someone breathing down his neck or watching everything he did. He was his own man now. He had his own cabin, which had become his office, and he was doing work that made him happy. He turned to head back into the house as the wind started to kick up. He could hear his sign creaking on the short chain Hans had made for him as it swung with each new gust. Distracted, he looked around and was surprised to find there was a man on his porch.
He looked him over as doctors do, analyzing if he was in any sort of distress. He seemed to be in full health. The man was tall and standing straight. His mouth was flat, but he didn’t seem to be grimacing. JT noted the way the man’s eyes seemed to be the warmest part of him. The rest of him seemed sort of—gray.
“Can I help you?”
The man nodded. “You need to go to the Tent City outside Bachelor. You’re needed there.”
JT walked the rest of the way up the steps before responding. “Why don’t you come in? We can talk inside, and you can tell me what brought you out here today.”
The man shook his head. “I do not need a doctor, but there are those that do. Please, now, get your bag and go to the Tent City.”
JT opened the door. He hadn’t seen or heard the man come through the woods to the cabin. The whole situation seemed strange to him. He and Hannah did often go to the Tent City and check on folks, especially the women and children that didn’t come into town as often as the men. But he’d never gone alone, and they were planning to go the day after next. “I’ll be there day after tomorrow.”
The man reached out as if he was going to grab JT but stopped. “No. It has to be today.” The doctor watched as the man seemingly warred with himself. He finally looked back at JT, his eyes were brighter than earlier, big and dark. JT could easily see the pain swirling behind them. “Please. Please come. Come now.”
JT wasn’t sure he should, but the look on the man’s face left him with little choice. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried through the open door and into the main part of the house, which he’d made a waiting area. His office was in the back, what he now knew used to be Sophia’s room. He grabbed his bag of supplies and another sweater and headed straight back toward the front door. JT was shocked when he got back to the porch and the man was gone, leaving him standing in the wind wondering if a trip to the Tent City was really necessary. A strong gust stirred up a pile of leaves in front of him as he stood pondering. They spun in a small cyclone before flying forward and scattering about the small walkway. Something fell on JT in that moment, and he just knew that he had to go.
Death was oddly restrictive. Not being able to touch or feel, but still being able to speak and observe. The frustration that often welled in his chest was something he hadn’t experienced before the accident. Anytime any sort of feeling had begun to tickle, or a coin would drop into his pocket, he’d buried them both under a bottle. The accident. It had taken so much from him, and yet he couldn’t have gotten anymore either. He’d been watching them since it happened. He’d seen more than anyone would ever want to. The suffering he’d caused. The worst part was most of it had happened back when he’d been able to do something about it. But that was what he was trying to fix now.
He’d been told he could. That’s why he was still there. So he could fix things. They were his purpose. He’d gone to the doctor out of desperation. He’d checked in on the children earlier in the day, once again hating himself for knowing his eldest son was taking on too much responsibility at too young an age and that it was his fault. The girls were there with baby Tommy. He was thankful he’d been able to see Tommy. When the shaft of the mine had started to collapse, before everything went black, one of the last thoughts he could remember having was wondering if the baby his wife was carrying was another girl or a little brother for Willie.
The girls were doing well. Bekka had them well in hand. But little Tommy…his face was flushed, and Bekka couldn’t get him to stop crying. She’d tried and tried, but Tommy wailed and wailed. He’d gone for the doctor when Bekka broke down in tears, trying to get the boy to quiet down while wiping his hot little forehead with a dirty rag dipped in a bucket of melted snow.
He wished he’d been able to do more. He wished he could scoop up the baby and bring him to the doctor himself, but he couldn’t. And to make matters worse, he knew that had things not changed, had he not been crushed in the collapse and lost the life he once knew, he wouldn’t have even thought of wanting to hold the baby. He’d left all of that to Nora.
Sweet, loving, kind Nora. He’d done her a disservice when he wouldn’t stop pursuing her. He should have left her alone like her father had asked him to. She’d had promise and a bright future. Nathaniel had taken it all away from her. He’d courted her, married her, took her from her family and immediately had her starting a new one. He saw all that now. He’d not seen it when he should have—but he’d been given a chance to change that, and he was taking it.
As soon as the doctor ducked into the house to get his bag, Nathaniel went straight back to the tent. The children came first.
Chapter Two
Nora was more grateful to the Jacksons than she had words to express.
She’d ridden into Creede with Willie in the back of the buckboard Mortimer’s son used for deliveries from the mercantile. It was a cold, rough ride, but it was much faster than walking would have been. Nora rode straight to the store beside her son. As soon as they arrived, she kissed Willie on the top of his head and went in search of Mrs. Jackson.
Toria was behind the counter working
on some papers when Nora went inside the store. The door creaked loudly, and Nora waited still as stone for Mrs. Jackson to look up and notice her. She didn’t want to startle her—she looked enthralled in what she was doing. She was pleased to watch a broad smile spread across Toria’s face as she recognized Nora.
“It’s wonderful to see you!” She came out from behind the counter and pulled Nora into a tight hug. “That boy of yours is one of the hardest workers I’ve ever met, and funny to boot! We’re grateful you let us borrow him.”
Tears welled in Nora’s eyes as she struggled for breath in Mrs. Jackson’s arms. She wiggled a little, trying to loosen her grip.
Toria laughed and let her go. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just so great to see you.”
Nora nodded. “I’m indebted to you and yours. You’ve all been wonderful to my family. We wouldn’t have survived without your meals. I’m at your mercy.” She hung her head, quietly wiping the tears that had started to fall.
Mrs. Jackson took Nora by the shoulders. “If this little town is going to survive, if we have any hope of making a place that people can call home and feel safe living, we all need to stick together. You’ll be on your feet before you know it.”
Nora nodded. She was feeling better, but every once in while the feelings of despair would overwhelm her and she wasn’t able to see anything other than a void where her future should be, vast and empty. She sometimes felt as if she was drowning in its darkness. Each time she started to think like that, or the darkness would begin to cloud her vision, she’d force it back. She was realizing she could push it back, now that she knew what it was. Swallowing hard, she thanked Toria for all she’d done and left the mercantile.