by Merry Farmer
“Whoa!” Mr. Evans shouted to his horse, bringing it to a stop within the circle of light cast by the fire. “What’s going on here?”
Elton and Kyle continued to fight until four of the men with Mr. Evans shouted and drew guns on them, hopping down from their horses. Only then did they push away from each other, panting and growling. Elton’s growl turned to a groan when one of Mr. Evans’ men yanked him to his feet.
“McCray, take those guns,” Mr. Evans ordered one of his men.
Before the tough old cowboy, McCray, had made it halfway across the camp toward them, Callie loosened her grip on her gun and handed it over.
“Thank God you’ve come,” she wailed, realizing how frightened she’d been.
“How did you find us?” John added, gladly handing his gun to McCray as well. As soon as it was out of his hands, he threw his arms around Callie and held her tight. She could feel him shaking, feel the rapid beat of his heart against her arms as they clutched the teapot and the deed.
“We’ve been out searching for you since just about the moment you all ran off,” Mr. Evans said. He calmed his dancing horse, then jumped down. Joseph flinched away from him, hands on the back of his head as one of Mr. Evans’ men watched him at gunpoint. “Thought there was no chance we’d find any of you, until we heard the gunshots.”
Callie had never been so happy to have fired a gun in her life.
“We found a horse tied to a tree about a quarter mile that way,” McCray added.
“That’s ours,” Callie said. “Well, Mr. Weingarten’s.”
“I asked before,” Mr. Evans said, striding to the center of the campsite between Elton and Kyle—now on their knees with their hands behind their heads like Joseph. “What’s going on here?”
“These thieves were trying to make off with Callie’s teapot,” Elton was quick to jump in.
He tried to lower his arms and rise, but one of Mr. Evans’ men cocked his gun and said, “Don’t.”
“These are the men that stole Barney Pogue’s deed,” John explained. He smoothed a hand along her arm and tapped her fist that held the crumpled and sodden deed. Callie let it go. John took it and held it out toward Mr. Evans. “This needs to be returned to its rightful owner.”
Mr. Evans strode up to them to take it. “I’m sure it does.” He nodded to McCray, who lowered his gun and turned away from Callie and John. Mr. Evans glanced at the deed, then from Joseph to Elton and Kyle. “What do you have to do with this?” he asked Elton.
“I was trying to stop them.” Elton did his best to play the hero, even puffing up his chest.
“He was not.” Callie spoke up. “He was just as involved as Kyle and Rever— and Joseph. I heard him admit to plotting with them.”
Elton gaped at her with false offense.
“Is that so?” Mr. Evans asked.
“It is,” John answered. “I heard them too.”
“It’s true,” Joseph added.
“Shut up!” Kyle shouted across to him. “You no good, rotten—”
“Tie those three up and get them on a horse,” Mr. Evans ignored the jibe. “We’ll take them back to the train and let the law sort them out, as soon as we find a lawman.”
“There’s a couple back at the crossing,” McCray offered.
Seconds later, the tension that had marked the conflict vanished. Joseph, Elton, and Kyle were dragged to their feet and hauled off into the damp night by Mr. Evans’s assistants. Mr. Evans himself approached Callie and John with a frown.
“And what are you folks doing out here?” he asked.
“I wanted to get Callie’s teapot back,” John explained without flinching. His arms were still tight around Callie, as if he was loathe to let go, but he moved enough so that Mr. Evans could see the silver pot in her arms. “Possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” he added with a laugh. Once he started laughing, he couldn’t stop.
“I won’t disagree with you there,” Mr. Evans grumbled. He slapped John on the arm. “Go get your horse and you can follow us back.”
“We will.”
Mr. Evans marched off to see to his prisoners, but John stayed where he was. His body shook with laughter as he adjusted his hold on Callie.
“Why are you laughing?” she asked. Now that the danger was over, she couldn’t help but laugh with him. In fact, she felt positively giddy.
“What were we thinking?” he asked.
Before she could answer, he kissed her. It was a deep, passionate kiss, full of life and love and longing. Callie melted under it, heart soaring even higher. She could have stood there and kissed him all night, mud and trouble and all, but before long John was laughing again. Too much to kiss.
“John Rye, you are the strangest man I’ve ever met,” she giggled. “Whatever is your problem?”
“I’m alive,” he said. He turned his face up to the heavens and raised his voice. “I’m alive! Alive and in love with the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met.” He lowered his eyes to her, then leaned in to kiss her once more. “You brought me back to life, Callie. When I thought you were in danger….” He shook his head. “I thought I would charge out here and find that teapot, but instead I found my wife. I love you. I will always love you.”
Callie shook her head, a smile bubbling so fiercely within her that it threatened to break out in tears of joy. “You’re a strange man, but I think I’ll keep you. I couldn’t live without you.”
Epilogue
The yard outside of Denver City where the wagon train finally stopped at the end of its journey was crowded and noisy. Word had gone ahead of them that they had arrived, and it seemed to Callie as though half of Denver City had come out to greet them.
“There are so many people,” she said as John helped her down from the wagon.
“I told you it was a city,” John said.
As soon as Callie’s feet touched the ground, he swept her into his arms for a kiss. Ever since the night they had risked their lives for the sake of a teapot, John had hugged her or kissed her or held her at every chance he got. He’d done other things as well that still made her cheeks glow red and her insides heat up like a furnace. She’d played an eager part in all of it.
They finally broke apart from each other when a passing miner whistled at them. All three of them laughed, filling Callie with a sense of giddy warmth. She liked Denver City already.
“So what do we do now?” she asked John.
“We live,” he said with a broad smile. “We love each other. We build a home and fill it with children and love and laughter.”
Her heart thrilled at the words. “I can’t wait. But, John, what do we do first?” She teased him with a grin. “Should we go find your friend Mr. Koenig and his general store?”
“In a minute.”
He glanced around at the bustle of arriving settlers and the townspeople who had come to greet them. There was no quiet, private place anywhere nearby. He took her hand and led her around the back of their two wagons. His smile was as bright as a brand new day, but he held enough seriousness in his eyes to set Callie buzzing with questions.
“What is it?” she asked when he stopped and faced her, taking both of her hands in his.
“I’ve been thinking about something for these last two weeks, since that night,” he began. She squeezed his hands and gave him her full attention. “All of the information that came out afterward, once we made it back to the river crossing and the marshal who took those three into custody.”
Callie shivered at the thought. After that night, she hadn’t thought she would ever be warm again, although, as soon as they’d had the chance, John had attempted to prove her wrong in the most delicious way. At least Elton, Kyle, and Joseph had been exposed for the criminals they were. With any luck, they were being taken from the wagon train to a jail in the city right that moment to await a trial.
“Yes?” she prompted John to go on.
“Joseph was no reverend.”
“We should have
seen it sooner,” she agreed.
He paused, an odd, humorous quirk turning up the corner of his mouth. “He was the one who married us, you know.”
The same guilty, shivery sense of questions she didn’t want answers to that had been bothering her, zipped up and down her spine once more. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
He leaned closer to her. “We filed a certificate in Ft. Kearny, but if any questions should arise.”
Callie flushed deeper. “You don’t think people would question whether… whether we’re….”
With a grin and a laugh he couldn’t contain, John dropped to one knee, still holding her hands. “Callysta Lewis, possibly Rye, but possibly not, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive by marrying me again?”
Callie gasped, prickles of light and excitement filling her. She thought she’d given up on every girl’s dream of a gallant proposal, or a grand wedding, and a happily ever after, like a fairy tale. She’d married John because she had to, but now Greg’s last words came back to her. Find love. Find hope. Who would have imagined that she would find those things after all?
With all her heart, she said, “Yes!” and began to laugh like a child whose life was new and full of possibility. “Oh John, of course I will marry you again. I’ll marry you a hundred times over, every day for the rest of our lives. I’ve never been more certain of anything. I belong with you.”
“Good,” he said, rising to pull her into his arms for a kiss that could shatter the mountains. She loved everything about him, his strong arms, his mischievous smile, even his glasses and the wise, cheerful eyes behind them. When he finally let her go long enough to catch her breath, he echoed the love she felt. “I love you. Now let’s go find out home.”
Hold on just a minute there. What happened to Emma Sutton and Dr. Meyers? They stayed behind at the way station after the tornado, but are they okay? Did they ever make it to Oregon?
Find out the answer to this and much more in Hot on the Trail book three, Trail of Longing, is available now! Just click here. And if you’d like to receive notice when future books in this series and others are published, please sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/RQ-KX
Keep clicking for a sneak peek….
About the Author
I hope you have enjoyed Trail of Hope. If you’d like to be the first to learn about when the next books in the series come out and more, please sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/RQ-KX And remember, Read it, Review it, Share it!
Merry Farmer is an award-winning novelist who lives in suburban Philadelphia with her two cats, Butterfly and Torpedo. She has been writing since she was ten years old and realized one day that she didn't have to wait for the teacher to assign a creative writing project to write something. It was the best day of her life. She then went on to earn not one but two degrees in History so that she would always have something to write about. Her books have topped the Amazon and iBooks charts and finalled in the prestigious RONE and Rom Com Reader’s Crown awards.
You can email her at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter @merryfarmer20.
Merry also has a blog, http://merryfarmer.net,
and a Facebook page, www.facebook.com/merryfarmerauthor
Acknowledgements
I would never be able to do what I do without the help of some fabulous people. I’d like to thank my amazing beta-readers, Keira Montclair, Margaret Brashears, Callie Hutton, and Cassie Hayes for their amazing suggestions and advice. I have to thank my fabulous editor, Aven Rose, once again for helping me go beyond what I thought I was capable of. And finally, where would I be without the Mistress of Badass herself, my publicist Anne Chaconas, and the whole Badass Marketing team.
And a special thank you to the Pioneer Hearts group! Do you love Western Historical Romance? Wanna come play with us? Become a member at https://www.facebook.com/groups/pioneerhearts/
Keep clicking for a preview of the next Hot on the Trail book, Emma and Dean’s story, Trail of Longing….
Trail of Longing
By Merry Farmer
Chapter One
Nebraska Territory, 1863
Dr. Dean Meyers was the most beautiful thing Emma Sutton had ever seen. Sunlight seemed to dance off of the rich dark brown of his hair. It was a little long now, after being on the trail west, heading to Oregon, for so many weeks, but Dr. Meyers, Dean, wore it well. He may have walked several wagons in front of her, consulting with Mrs. Costner about her sore knees, but Emma could still see the light of kindness shining in his eyes. He had a handsome, strong face as well—a straight nose, a fine brow, and a square jaw. Weeks of being in the sun had given him a tanned face, but unlike some of the other men, he shaved every day.
He was so noble, so gentle with the sick and injured that he treated. Mrs. Costner was clearly having a hard time walking, but he offered her an arm and supported some of her weight. Emma had heard him insisting that she should ride, even going so far as to appeal to her husband to convince her to walk. Mrs. Costner was having none of it, though. Emma couldn’t hear their conversation, but she saw the admiration in Mrs. Costner’s eyes. Why ride in a wagon when you could walk to Oregon on Dean Meyers’ arm?
Yes, Emma sighed, hugging herself with a far-away smile, she was in love.
Thank God Dean didn’t know.
“Miss Emma! Miss Emma! Look what I found.”
Emma’s thoughts were pulled down to earth as one of the Williams children, who she was watching for the afternoon, ran up to her. Sadie stretched out her arm and opened her hand to reveal a large, brown beetle.
“Oh!” Emma gasped and missed a step. Her instinct was to shy away from the creature. Well, her instinct was to shy away from everything. She forced herself to laugh and placed a hand on Sadie’s head. “My, what an impressive beetle.”
“It’s the biggest one I’ve found yet,” Sadie told her, smile as big as the prairie. “I bet I could find a bigger one. This place is full of bugs!”
“I don’t doubt it.” Emma smiled, her heart still in her throat as Sadie rushed off. She and her brothers and sisters really were dear children, if a bit unruly. Sadie’s hair hadn’t been washed or braided in weeks and she had smudges on her joy-filled face. Her dress was dusty and frayed at the hem and she and her siblings had made most of the journey barefoot so far. Not one of them seemed to mind, though, and Mrs. Williams was happy to let them run wild. She had told Emma that shoes were expensive, but the memory of making their way west to their new home was priceless. As long as they stayed away from the miners traveling with them, they were free to run and catch bugs and pick flowers until they exhausted themselves.
The Williams children were some of the happiest people in their wagon train, and Emma loved walking with them. She enjoyed the limited time she was able to walk with her friends, Lynne Tremaine and Callie Lewis, who was now Callie Rye, but her friends were busy elsewhere these days. Callie had married John Rye and now spent most of her time getting to know him. Lynne claimed she was distracted with chores and concerns over certain threats that had been made against her. She had confided in Emma on one of their long days of walking when Lynne talked and she listened. In truth, whether she saw it or not, Lynne wanted to spend her time with her handsome escort, Cade Lawson. That left Emma the choice of walking with her family or walking with the children.
Her mother and sister Alice rode in their family’s wagon several yards behind. Emma glanced over her shoulder to check on them. Alice was nowhere in sight, probably huddled in the back of the wagon, out of the sun. She shouldn’t tire the oxen by making them pull extra weight, but after all Alice had been through, Emma wasn’t about to scold her for riding. Her mother, on the other hand, sat on the wagon’s seat beside her father, probably giving him a constant string of instructions about how to best drive an ox-drawn wagon.
Emma smiled and shook her head at the thought. Mother was who she was, and Father had loved her anyhow for more than a quarter cen
tury. It was a love like that—a love that existed in spite of frivolity and annoyance and the occasional burst of temper—that Emma wanted for herself. She glanced forward once more, looking for Dean Meyers.
He was watching her. As he walked with Mrs. Costner, he looked over his shoulder. At her. His sun-kissed face lit up with a smile. Emma’s heart fluttered fast enough to fly right out of her chest, and her knees threatened to give out and turn to butter. She immediately lowered her head, deep blush spreading across her cheeks. He couldn’t have been looking at her, could he? Surely he was just checking on something behind her.
She had almost worked up the courage to peek when Sadie came running back to her. “Miss Sutton! Miss Sutton! I found a baby snake!”
Emma gasped. Her fluttering heart pounded hard against her ribs and threatened to plummet into her stomach as little Sadie held up a small, wriggling snake. It was no more than six inches long and thin as a pencil, but Emma had to swallow the urge to scream.
“It’s very nice,” she managed to say in a shaky voice.
“Do you think it wants to come to Oregon with us?” Sadie asked, her head cocked to one side.
“Oh, I think it would miss its home too much if you brought it along,” Emma replied, hand pressed to her chest.
“Huh.” Sadie lowered her snake. “I guess it— Ouch!”
Sadie stumbled. She dropped her snake and would have fallen, but Emma reached out and caught her.
“Are you all right?” she asked, scooping the little girl in her arms.
She was too heavy for Emma to carry her far. After a few steps, Emma stopped and crouched to hold Sadie on her lap. Sadie moaned and grabbed her foot. Bright red blood spread through her fingers, dripping to the dusty ground. Emma’s stomach lurched. She didn’t have time to faint at the sight of blood, though, so she swallowed and held Sadie tighter.
