Carson's Christmas Bride (Hero Hearts; Lawmen's Brides Book 3)

by Natalie Dean

  “It ain’t your debt, ma’am,” Erich said, voicing the thought that Lucy was wrestling with.

  Perhaps it happened then, through some alchemy of the heart, when Sarah understood that she was engaged in the Lord’s work on His terms, not hers. These children, bereft of their mother and neglected by their father, had a stern code of honor which demanded that they uphold adult rules even when those rules denied them what they, as children, yearned for.

  “I reckon,” Sarah said, “that since we’re all in this together, we’ll share our debts and our blessings alike. What do you say?”

  “Can we get peppermint sticks?” Isaiah asked.

  * * *

  That night, sleep did not come easily to Sarah, even though she was tired. The evening meal had gone well, the children had been obedient and helpful in cleaning up afterwards. They had done their homework without complaint and had gone to bed cheerfully. It had been the best day that she had spent in Knox Mills. But still, she could not sleep. Her mind would not release her from recalling the conversation she had shared with Deputy Harlow that afternoon.

  Was she foolish for believing in love? Her experience ought to have taught her that love was a flimsy thing, and counterfeit. She had thought she loved Dante Robards, but three weeks of marriage had been enough to reveal the truth about loving a man who was selfish and debauched. She had believed she would find love with Graham Boone, but the man she had fallen in love with on paper was not the man who appeared when she arrived.

  Perhaps Deputy Harlow was right, and love didn’t exist. It was elusive, at best. But honesty was a valuable trait, even in marriage. Dante had been incapable of honesty, she realized. He was nothing like Carson Harlow, who was honest even when it was not to his advantage to be so. Deputy Harlow would make one woman a fine husband one day, should he ever find love and recognize its existence. Would he find a woman who valued his honesty? Or was love always doomed to be a game played by fools, where a woman and a man were eternally at cross-purposes, chasing a fancy and deluding themselves that they had found it, when in reality, the object of their affections was not at all what they longed for? Deputy Harlow said that love was something for poems and songs. Sarah wondered whether she was guilty of having given credence to soaring rhymes that stirred her heart into a quest for what it would never find.

  What was to happen? Would she leave the children for a room in a boarding house, hoping that a gentleman would find her appealing and offer marriage? What would happen to the Boone children? They were too young to live on their own. If Graham Boone did come back, he would face a far more serious sentence than the one he had escaped. But was it likely that he would return? He had not provided for his children; they were not important to him.

  Sarah sat upright. What if the children were sent to an orphanage? What if they were taken from their home because there was no adult to mind them and look after them, to make sure that they went to school and had provisions so that they could eat meals? Who would see that they had new clothing when they outgrew what they were wearing? When they fell ill, who would comfort them and dispense medicine? There was already a shortage of women in Knox Mills, and the summer smallpox outbreak had robbed some families, she knew, of a parent, leaving the other widowed to face the winter deprived of support.

  She thought of the children, so proud and independent. What would happen to them in an orphanage? How would Lucy manage without being able to maintain her status as the heiress apparent to her mother’s cooking and sewing? What would the boys do if they could not do the chores that they had done during their mother’s life? And what about shy, retiring Ruby, who seemed to observe everything even though she was so quiet, one almost forgot that she was there?

  That could not happen! The children could not go to an orphanage. Even if she wasn’t their mother, and she didn’t know how to cook like a Texas wife, she was surely better than nothing. She would not let it happen! They would not be taken from their home!

  Chapter 11

  Lucy had informed Sarah that it had been their mother’s custom to read the Bible to the children before bedtime, and to pray with them after they were in their beds. Chagrined that she had neglected their spiritual wellbeing, Sarah thanked the child for telling her this and agreed that this habit must be resumed without delay, that very night, in fact.

  “And ma’am,” Lucy said hesitantly, “we missed church last week.”

  Sarah had been so overwhelmed by the household tasks that she had entirely forgotten what day it was. Tomorrow was Sunday and she would not forget.

  Deputy Harlow had agreed to bring the wagon by to take them to Mrs. Calhoun’s to buy a chicken and a ham, and then to the general store for other things that they needed. Sarah had asked Lucy to write a list of what they should buy. Lucy had been surprised. “We’ve plenty, ma’am,” she said.

  “Perhaps, but what would you like to have. Is there something that you would like to eat that . . .” this required delicate phrasing, “that perhaps you haven’t had lately. Why don’t you write ‘surprise’ on the list and when we come to it, you’ll know what it means.”

  “Isaiah will choose peppermint sticks,” Lucy predicted.

  The children were excited about their excursion into town and they scrubbed their faces and hands without being told to. Even though they were wearing their shabby old clothes, Sarah had washed the garments so that they were clean. The girls braided their hair with ribbons, giving them a festive appearance despite their worn clothing.

  Mrs. Calhoun was a friendly woman who had known Mrs. Boone well, she told Sarah. She exclaimed over the children and told them how good it was to see them. She picked out a large ham for Sarah and a chicken; Sarah asked her to add more bacon to the order. “We go through a lot of bacon,” Sarah said with a smile.

  “I imagine that you do,” Mrs. Calhoun said.

  The children were over by the shed, watching Mr. Calhoun, a carpenter, who was working on a rocking chair. Mrs. Calhoun lowered her voice. “Sometimes, I wondered if those children were getting enough to eat. I wanted to bring something by, but Hannah was always very proud and I wasn’t sure the children would accept charity. They look like they’re well fed now.”

  Sarah beamed; no compliment from a beau had pleased her as much as this one from a woman she had just met this morning.

  “I expect they’re a handful,” Mrs. Calhoun went on. “Their father . . . well, best say nothing if there’s nothing kind to say. But Hannah did the work of father and mother to them, little thanks though she got for it from Mr. Boone. I’m sorry that he wasn’t what you expected. You’ve come a long way for a marriage that didn’t take place. But you won’t be unmarried for long,” she said cheerfully. “When the menfolk catch sight of how pretty you are, they’ll be forming a line to ask you to walk out with them.”

  Sarah blushed. It was still startling, the way that Texans spoke so candidly about the eagerness of men to marry here in Knox Mills. “You’re very kind,” she said, accepting the praise the way her mother had instructed her to do. “I suppose that, in a town where the men outnumber the women by such a margin, a woman can be optimistic about her chances.”

  “Child, you could be optimistic no matter what. Just you wait and see.”

  The children were wide-eyed inside the general store. Frau Wiessen greeted them when they entered as if she had missed them, and Herr Wiessen made a point of telling the girls how pretty they looked with the ribbons in their hair. The children looked anxiously at Sarah and she knew that they were waiting for her to address the matter of the unpaid bill.

  “Herr Wiessen,” Sarah said quickly, “the children have reminded me that we owe on our account and we would like to take care of that right away.”

  The storekeeper’s eyes studied her. “Account?” he repeated. “Frau Wiessen, do you know anything about this?”

  “No,” his wife said. “Your account is clear, I check all the accounts myself and I would know.”

  “Frau
Wiessen is very good at mathematics,” her husband said. “If you children are as good at ciphering as she is, you will be storekeepers someday.”

  Lucy looked worried. “I’m sure Pa bought things,” she whispered to Sarah.

  “Would you please check?” Sarah requested. “We can’t begin our shopping until we settle.”

  “I am sure, but if you insist, I will check,” the little white-haired lady said as she went behind the curtain into the back room. She came out a few minutes later. “As I said, there is nothing on your account. All is clear. Now you must hurry and shop; we have new slates in and I am sure they will be sold quickly. Also, fresh butter from Ada Langston, who has the best dairy cows in Knox Mills.”

  “Yes, we’ll take those,” Sarah said quickly. “But we also want to see if you have new dresses for the girls, and new shirts for the boys. And shoes.”

  “Go with Frau Wiessen,” her husband directed the children. “She will measure your feet for the shoes. Someday we will have a shoemaker in Knox Mills and he will make all our shoes. But until that day comes,” he shrugged philosophically, “we do the best we can.”

  Deputy Harlow came into the store to see what was taking so long. “Where are the kids?” he asked.

  Sarah, who was looking at gloves, raised her head. “They’re trying on shoes,” she said.

  “Shoes?”

  “It’s cooler weather now,” she answered. “They can’t go barefooted forever, and Lucy’s old shoes don’t fit Ruby’s feet. Nor do Erich’s shoes fit Isaiah. They’re not really fit for handing down, anyway.”

  He had noticed when he arrived at the Boone cabin that the children had appeared to be in jovial spirits, laughing as they piled into the wagon, and including Mrs. Baker in their chatter. For her part, she seemed a trifle less anxious and the circles underneath her eyes were gone, leading him to guess that she no longer feared the presence of frogs showing up in her trunks. But now, hearing her talk about the kids’ shoes as if it were a matter of significance, he wondered what on earth had happened to bring about this transformation.

  “They’re very proud,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I have to handle these purchases very carefully.”

  “I reckon that Mrs. Boone taught them that. She knew that her husband was a worthless sort of fellow and she wasn’t going to have her children take after him.”

  “She must have been an admirable woman,” Sarah said.

  He detected no jealousy or cattiness in her comment and his estimation of her rose. She apparently valued the contribution that Hannah Boone had made to the upbringing of her children.

  “She made the most of what she had,” he said. “I didn’t really know her all that well except to bring Boone home when he’d had too much to drink but hadn’t gotten into enough trouble to end up doing an overnight stay in the jail. She thanked me for helping bring him inside. It couldn’t have been easy for her to have to handle a situation like that, but she never forgot her manners. I felt sorry for her. Most folks did. But we didn’t show it. She didn’t want pity.”

  Ruby, quiet little Ruby, suddenly came running to Sarah. “Ma’am!” she called out. “I have new shoes!”

  Sarah bent down. “I see that you do,” she said. “Very fine shoes, too. Do they fit?”

  Frau Wiessen, at a slower pace, followed Ruby. “Perfectly,” she beamed.

  “I’ll take very good care of them, ma’am,” Ruby promised earnestly. “I’ll take them off as soon as I come home from school and I’ll keep them clean and I won’t walk in puddles.”

  Once again, Sarah felt that pang at her heart as she listened to the child’s vow. Had she ever, as a child, regarded a pair of shoes as if they represented a covenant? She had always had new shoes when she needed them, and not just one pair. But that was Charleston, and this was Texas, and she knew that she must accept Ruby’s promise in the spirit in which it was proffered.

  “That will be very good, Ruby,” she said. “They’ll last longer that way if you take good care of them.”

  “But ma’am, what if my feet grow?” Ruby asked worriedly.

  “Of course your feet will grow,” Sarah said, bending down so that she and the child were on the same level. “But that is when we will get a new pair.”

  “Perhaps Lucy’s shoes will fit me then,” Ruby said as if this solved the matter.

  “Perhaps,” Sarah replied. “But if they do not, we shall get a new pair. We cannot cut off your toes in order for your shoes to fit.”

  At first, Ruby looked startled at these words but then, realizing that Sarah was teasing her, she smiled.

  “Come with me, child,” Frau Wiessen said. “I think . . . stockings?”

  “Yes, certainly,” Sarah agreed. “Two pairs each, please.”

  Carson, who had been attending to the exchange closely, wondered if Mrs. Baker was going to run short of money at the rate she was spending on the children. It would be indelicate to ask, but when they had finished shopping and he was helping to load the purchases into the wagon, he said quietly, “I guess you’re not saving money for a return trip to Charleston.”

  “No,” she said. “I won’t be returning to Charleston.”

  Which didn’t answer his question about whether or not she would be running short of funds. But it answered another question, one that he didn’t realize he wanted an answer for until she said that she wasn’t leaving Knox Mills.

  Chapter 12

  Sarah was not exactly sure how it happened, but on the wagon ride back to the cabin, the subject of cooking came up and the next thing she knew, Deputy Harlow was accepting an invitation to join them for supper.

  “I’m teaching Miss Sarah to cook,” Lucy boasted. “She’s learning real well, too.”

  Carson treated this with the gravity that was expected of him, but as Lucy chattered on, his eyes drifted to Sarah and a faint smile flickered for a moment before it vanished as he nodded approvingly at Lucy’s explanation of how much Miss Sarah was learning.

  “I’m helping, too!” Ruby interrupted, bold enough to work her way into the conversation.

  “Well,” Carson drawled, “If Ruby here is learning to cook at her young age, I expect she’ll be beating the both of you in no time. Best look to your laurels, Lucy, or your little sister is going to turn out to be the cook in the family.”

  Lucy tossed her head. “No she won’t,” she declared. “I cook just like Ma taught me.”

  “Your Ma was a fine cook,” Carson agreed. “I remember her mincemeat pie at Christmas time.”

  “Miss Sarah, we can make a mincemeat pie!” Lucy said excitedly.

  “So, what do you say, Miss Sarah?” Carson inquired in a light tone. He too had noticed that for Lucy, Sarah had gone from being called “ma’am” to being “Miss Sarah” in a progression so reflexive that it was likely Lucy hadn’t even realized the difference. But Sarah had, and she was pleased that it had happened in Deputy Harlow’s presence. Later that night, after the supper had been eaten and enjoyed, when Carson got up to take his leave, she and the children walked out to the yard with him.

  “Best supper I’ve had in a long time,” Carson said as he got into the saddle with the effortless grace of a man who was accustomed to being astride. “Someday, Lucy, you’re going to make some man very happy. But you mind,” he said, pointing a stern finger at her, “he has to pass my inspection. And Ruby, that goes for you as well.”

  Lucy giggled. Ruby’s little face wore a worried frown. Sarah hugged the child close to her. “Not for a long time yet,” she said.

  Ruby looked relieved. As Carson rode away, the boys lingered to watch.

  “Wish we had a horse like that,” Erich said.

  “Who’s to say you won’t?” Sarah asked him, leading them back into the house.

  “Horses cost money.”

  “That’s what wages are for. After you’ve finished with your schooling, you’ll find work and you’ll be able to afford a horse of your very own.”


  He looked doubtful. “That’s a powerful lot of money, Miss Sarah.”

  “Well, there’s always work to be done. Maybe there’s someone in town who needs a strong boy to help her with some chores now.”

  “You think someone would pay me?” The thought had obviously never occurred to him, but then, Sarah reasoned, why would it have? His father had not been able to sustain working for very long and the family had gotten used to doing without.

  “Of course they would. We’ll find out who needs help and you can start saving. But remember, school comes first.”

  Carson’s reference to mincemeat pie made Sarah begin to think about Christmas. She knew that the children might not feel like celebrating the holiday when it would be their first one without their mother, but she wondered if that itself was reason enough for her to make sure that they had a good Christmas. Perhaps they could have a Christmas feast with some of the favorite recipes that Mrs. Boone had prepared. They could invite Deputy Harlow; he might not have anyone to celebrate the day with and the children enjoyed his company and he enjoyed theirs as well.

  She would need help in cutting down a tree for the children to decorate with strings of popcorn and berries and paper chains; it would be good for Erich and Isaiah to go with Deputy Harlow to do that. They were too young to use an axe on their own, but she was sure that the Deputy would be willing to help. She and the girls could bake something tasty for them and they could all enjoy it after the tree was brought in. At her home in Charleston, her family had always made the bringing in of the tree a splendid occasion and it seemed to Sarah that the children would enjoy this as well.

  She fell asleep nearly as soon as her head touched the pillow. The thoughts that she had entertained populated her dreams and as she slept, she dreamed of Christmases, but the holiday was a peculiar blend of reality and fiction. In one of the dreams, it seemed as though she and Deputy Harlow were married, but Graham Boone and Dante Robards appeared at the oddest times to claim her. Graham Boone was about to strike her, his hand raised—