Lorna Loves a Lawyer: A Historical Western Romance (Brides with Grit Book 9)

by Linda K. Hubalek

  Lorna Loves a Lawyer

  A Historical Western Romance

  Brides with Grit Series, Book 9

  Copyright © 2016 by Linda K. Hubalek

  Published by Butterfield Books Inc.

  Printed Book ISBN-13: 978-1535567756

  Library of Congress Control Number:2016912387

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting this hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Except for the history of Kansas that has been mentioned in the book, the names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A sweet historical romance set in 1873. Lorna Jantz left Boston looking for adventure, signing up as a mail-order bride for a rich Kansas rancher. But, the groom only becomes rich after taking off with her money, after their twenty-four hour marriage. Which left Lorna in a pickle, stuck in a little town with no money, no home and a growing belly.

  Lyle Elison was one of Boston’s worst, a spoiled, rich merchant’s son, until enforced time on the family’s Kansas ranch made him see his purpose in life. After training in Boston, he’s back in Clear Creek, Kansas, as the town’s new lawyer.

  Backgrounds make Lorna and Lyle connect, but time spent together makes them good friends, willing to help each other face their respective problems. Lorna needs help tracking down the louse who stole her money and left her in a family way. Lyle needs to be married by his birthday to receive his inheritance from his grandfather’s Will.

  In between their capers, each falls in love with the other, secretly wishing they could confess their love and be together forever. But first, they have to find Lorna’s wayward husband before Lyle’s birthday.

  Dedication

  To mothers, past and present—

  thank you for doing what was best for your children.

  Prologue

  July 1873, Clear Creek, Kansas

  Whap! Whap!

  What?! The waitress just slapped him with her dish towel!

  “Where have you been?!” she hissed.

  Lyle Elison’s hands shot up around his head as he tried to duck her blows.

  Whap! Whap! Whap!

  “Answer me! Where have you been?!”

  “Uh, back East, ma’am.”

  “Why?!”

  “Uh…”

  Whap!

  “You said you were going to Hays and would be back in a day!”

  “Look lady,” Lyle rose out of the dining room chair so he could move out of the way of the next swing and see who the heck was hitting him. “I don’t know why you’d be mad at me…”

  Lyle grabbed and twisted the offending towel out of the woman’s hand before focusing on her face. Probably in her mid-twenties, she wasn’t much shorter than his five-foot, eight inch frame. Her light blonde hair was in a bun on the nape of her neck, but wisps of escaped curls flitted around her head as she shook with fury. Her eyes were so narrowed to slits he couldn’t see what color they were, but her lips were pale pink since they were pressed together in a thin line. Her fisted hands were raised to punch him in the face as soon as he let down his guard.

  “Maynard Jantz, you took off the day after we were married!”

  There wasn’t a sound in Clancy’s Café as the patrons watched the woman scream at him.

  “And with my money!” she added.

  Lyle’s brain finally caught up with her conversation.

  “Who’s Maynard Jantz?” Lyle looked at the woman, then at his brother, Carl, who still sat at their table, chewing on the piece of tough chicken fried steak they’d both unfortunately ordered.

  “Maynard? Don’t act like you don’t know me! I’m your wife!”

  Carl choked on the meat and spit it out onto the plate. Lyle felt like he’d swallowed the whole steak now.

  “I’m Lyle Elison, ma’am, and I do not know you,” Lyle shook his hand as he stepped back from the fuming woman.

  “Really? You don’t remember our marriage ceremony in Ellsworth and our wedding night?” Her hands were fisted at her waist and she was fuming mad.

  Carl rose from his seat, acting like the mediator he always was when Lyle needed help.

  “Ma’am, I’m Carl Elison and I assure you there are several people in this café who can vouch that my brother’s name is indeed Lyle Elison. Even though we’re just here visiting for our sister’s wedding this week, we did live here for a while, before returning to our home in Boston early last spring.”

  Lyle looked around, hoping a few people would nod their heads. During the short time he did live here, he hadn’t tried to make friends or fit into the community. His father had exiled his sons to this forlorn prairie hoping they’d “straighten up”, and fit the mold of the elder Elison’s plans of his sons taking over the management of the family’s textile mill. But Lyle hadn’t taken on any responsibility of the Bar E Ranch—his parents had bought for him to run—instead, spending his time horse racing, gambling, and traveling.

  Although his family didn’t know it, after moving back to Boston, Lyle had begun working on getting his life straightened out, by studying law.

  “Well, nice to meet you, Carl. I’m your new sister-in-law, Lorna Adams Jantz,” she snipped while holding out her right hand for Carl to shake. Her left hand was still firmly balled at her waist.

  “Lyle,” Carl growled while still looking at this Mrs. Jantz, “did you do something to this woman I should know about?”

  “I swear, Carl, I’ve never seen her before,” Lyle felt sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to think if he had met her somewhere…that he shouldn’t have.

  Her green silk brocade dress wasn’t the usual attire for someone working in a café. The other woman serving here wore a plain cotton dress and apron for her attire. And her voice was definitely from the Eastern seaboard. What was this high society lady doing in the frontier town of Clear Creek, Kansas?

  “So, your name isn’t the same as you wrote on our marriage certificate? Is that part of your scheme to scam me out of my money?”

  “Besides not marrying you, I did not take any money from you, either,” Lyle emphatically stated. The woman was getting downright scary.

  “Daisy!” the woman yelled to the young girl who stood in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen watching the drama. “Go get Marshal Wilerson for me. He’d be at the jailhouse or at his house behind it. I want this man arrested for stealing my money.”

  Lyle inwardly groaned. He’d been in trouble a few times with Marshal Adam Wilerson when he lived here. He’d done some silly pranks when he was drinking with his friends, not causing any property damage, but still disturbing the peace. His father was right. His past would catch up with him someday. It was past time to start acting like a responsible man, not a rich playboy.

  “Lorna, get these plates out to customers,” Dan Clancy barked from the open window between the two rooms. “Quit pestering the Elisons and get back to work!”

  The woman glared at Lyle before trounci
ng back to pick up the plates of food lined up to be served. She gingerly tried to balance one plate on her forearm before picking up two more plates in her hands. The woman was shaky, not smooth like the other waitress carrying food to her tables. Lyle guessed she hadn’t had this job for very long, as she wasn’t very good at it.

  He and Carl sat back down at the table to eat their cooling food while the lady tended to her job. Hopefully, Marshal Wilerson was out of town and wouldn’t be available to come to this lady’s “rescue”.

  “So?” Carl spoke again after grimacing and swallowing his last bite of meat. Unfortunately, this was the only café in town so it got the business if a person wanted to eat.

  “I do not know the lady, I did not marry her, nor did I meet her upstairs in any saloon in the past, where I might have met her. For once, I am in the clear.”

  “Stealing a thousand dollars from me does not put you ‘in the clear’, Mr. Jantz!”, the woman hissed as she passed their table with a pot of coffee. Lyle grimaced and pulled his shoulders up to his ears, waiting for the scalding liquid to drain down his back.

  “A thousand dollars?!” the woman at the next table exclaimed, causing all the customers to look up from their meals to stare at Lyle, then Mrs. Jantz. Now her accusations were getting serious, and Lyle would welcome the marshal’s help.

  ***

  Why did she blurt out how much money she’d lost?

  And now she and Maynard—or Lyle—or anyway, the man in question, sat in front of the marshal’s desk, ready to get to the bottom of this. Instead of the marshal coming to the café, he requested they meet in his office, which was better for the delicate matter of this situation. Unfortunately, the townspeople knew about her situation now, because of her outburst at seeing her wayward husband nonchalantly eating lunch while she’d had to work to keep from starving after he disappeared. Lorna had pretended she was a single woman, new to town, and had not mingled with the townsfolk while she waited for her husband to return. Now word would get around about her situation.

  But now Lorna wasn’t positive the man beside her was Maynard. This man was average height, short brown hair, stormy blue eyes and the cutest dimple in his cheek when he first spoke to her in the restaurant. She couldn’t remember if Maynard had a dimple but he smiled a lot when they were together—for less than twenty-four hours.

  Oh, surely he was Maynard, and yet…

  “Where are you from, Mrs. Jantz? I could almost swear you have a Boston Brahmin accent?” The supposed brother, Carl, asked congenially.

  “Yes, you guessed right on my aristocratic accent. I am from the Adams family, dating back to colonial times and the founding fathers of this nation. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?” Lorna replied smugly.

  “As in the presidents, John and John Quincy Adams?” The other Elison, the one “in question” asked.

  “Yes, my family dates back to…”

  “Let’s get your information recorded so you can get back to the café. I’m sure Dan isn’t happy you’ve run off during the noon hour rush,” the marshal tapped his pencil on his desk, showing his impatience, probably to get back to his own lunch, too.

  “Mrs. Jantz, I realize you’re new in town, and I apologize for not getting to know you yet. I assumed you were a single woman or widow, not married.”

  “I’m a new arrival. I answered a mail-order bride advertisement placed by Mr. Jantz. We corresponded, I accepted his proposal and traveled from Boston to Clear Creek to marry him. After his…disappearance, I had to obtain a job to survive, as I waited for his return.”

  “I don’t recall any marriages of people I didn’t know taking place in town in the recent past,” the marshal stated while studying her.

  Lorna sat up in her chair, squared her shoulders and willed her composure back in place. “We were married in Ellsworth at the Holy Apostles Episcopal Church.”

  “Why go there instead of having our local Pastor Reagan marry you?”

  “Maynard asked where I preferred to be married. I have always been an Episcopalian, so I preferred to be married there, instead of the local community church.”

  “I don’t know a Maynard Jantz. Was he new in the area, too?”

  Lorna was taken aback by his question. “I assumed you’d know him. He owns a ranch not far from here, and we drove by it before we drove to Ellsworth.” This confused Lorna, because Maynard’s letters sounded like he was an upstanding community leader besides a local rancher.

  “Mrs. Jantz, you’re accusing a Maynard Jantz of stealing money from you, and yet you didn’t report this to me when it happened. Nor, did you tell anyone your husband had gone missing.

  “Now you are stating this man, who I know as Lyle Elison, is the one who stole the money. I’ll need some proof, other than your accusations.” Lorna guessed the marshal would prefer to be out chasing outlaws than be in the same room with her at the moment, but nonetheless, he was supposed to uphold the law…and she had been robbed.

  “Well I do have our marriage certificate, signed by Mr. Jantz.” Lorna narrowed her eyes at the man sitting beside her as she handed the certificate to the marshal. She had taken the time to go to her room above the café to retrieve it before going to the marshal’s office.

  The marshal studied the piece of paper. “I haven’t heard of this preacher. They must have gotten a new one at this church.” He started to hand it over to the man in question to look at, but then changed his mind and laid it face down on his desk. He pulled a piece of paper from his desk drawer and slapped it on the corner of his desk.

  “Lyle, sign your signature as ‘Maynard Jantz’ and we’ll compare the signatures.”

  “Excellent idea, Marshal,” he said while dipping the pen in the inkwell placed before him. “This should prove I’m not the wayward husband.” He smiled at her before giving her a wink. “Although I do like the lady if she’s inclined to want my company.”

  “Lyle, just sign the name and quit flirting with the poor woman.”

  The man did so, held the paper up and blew on the ink before ceremoniously handing it to the marshal. Lorna held her breath, hoping this was the man in question, because she did like him this second meeting, if he gave her money back to her, of course.

  Marshal Wilerson turned both sheets of paper towards Lorna and she scooted to the edge of her chair to compare the signatures. Shoot. The signatures were as opposite as handwriting could be. “They don’t match.”

  “No, they don’t. And I don’t think Mr. Elison is quite up to impersonating a groom, although you might have given him an idea for a future way to meet women.”

  This was so embarrassing, but she’d only met her husband an hour before the marriage took place.

  “Well, I could have been mistaken, now that I look at Mr. Elison a little more closely.”

  “So, what did you do after your ceremony in Ellsworth?”

  “We ate at a café in Ellsworth, then drove by the ranch and back to Clear Creek and checked in at the Paulson Hotel. He left for a bit to take the horse and buggy over to the livery for the night.

  “The next morning after we ate breakfast, he said he’d go out to a ranch near Hays to pick up the new horses he’d seen. I was to stay here to rest after my journey and he’d be back to get me in two days.”

  “And how did he get the money you claim he took?”

  Lorna’s face turned beet red. “I gave him the money to finish paying for the horses.”

  “And I’m guessing you haven’t heard from him since.”

  “No…I mean yes, I did hear from Maynard again. A young lad brought me a telegram a day later from him. Said he was delayed and it would be another few days before he could bring the horses home.”

  “And after that?”

  “I haven’t heard any more from him.”

  “So what have you done since then?” Carl Elison asked.

  “Waited for his return. I told Mrs. Paulson about my husband’s delay and she told me get out of the hotel if I didn’
t have money to pay for my room.”

  “That woman doesn’t have a compassionate bone in her body, but it was her right to refuse a room to someone who couldn’t pay for it,” Marshal Wilerson shook his head, confirming what Lorna realized after talking to the woman.

  “So since I was without funds, thanks to my missing husband,” she turned to look at Lyle again, “I looked for another way to eat and have a roof over my head. The Clancys were needing help, so they offered me room and board in exchange for work while I waited for Maynard to come back. They have an extra room upstairs I’ve been using.”

  It was sparsely furnished with a cot, a small wooden table, and a chair. The four-drawer dresser also served as her wash stand. The only light at night was a single oil lamp she set on the table. She used the outhouse behind the building during the day and the chamber pot at night. The two trunks she brought with her from Boston were still being stored at the train depot, waiting to be picked up and taken to the ranch.

  “You mentioned visiting a ranch? Can you tell me where it is?”

  “I’m not sure I could find it again—as we looked at the ranch from the top of a hill, rather than going up to the house and buildings.”

  “Can you describe what the buildings look like?”

  “The square house was a two-story, made of a reddish stone, and had a wrap-around porch. The barn was very large, also stone. Then there were several wooden outbuildings around the place.”

  Lyle and Carl looked at each other before Lyle asked, “I assume there were cattle, and sheep, around the place?”

  “Oh yes, it was an established working ranch. He said the cattle were longhorns, driven up from Texas. They were very impressive with their long horns, even at the distance we were from the pastures. The sheep flock was in an area near the barn, as well as a horse herd.”

  “Place sound familiar?” Lyle asked, while looking at Carl.

  “So you know the place?” Lorna excitedly questioned them. Maybe Maynard had been hurt and hadn’t be able to come back to town for her. These men could take her out there.