Prisoners of Love Books 1-3: Adelaide Cinnamon Becky

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Prisoners of Love Books 1-3: Adelaide Cinnamon Becky Page 3

by Callie Hutton


  Nellie shook her head. “I sure hope you did the right thing. But since you’ll be on the wagon train with us, I’ll be sure to keep my eye on him.”

  Feeling better knowing that Nellie would be looking out for her, Adelaide picked up her satchel to join Mr. Ryan.

  Nellie opened the door and they headed to the stairs. “I’ll come along with you. I’d like to meet this new husband of yours.”

  Husband.

  Miles pulled a few bills out of his wallet and handed them over to the mercantile owner. He smiled with satisfaction. It had been a very productive morning. He’d gotten everything he needed to continue on with the journey.

  Including a wife.

  Once more his guilty conscience nudged him, but he pushed it away. He had to get to Santa Fe, and he had to bring his little girls with him. Without a wife he would either be stuck here, or make his way completely alone. Neither solution would work.

  After arranging for a wagon and having it loaded at the mercantile, he headed for the hotel. Adelaide stood in front of the building, her satchel at her feet. Another woman stood with her, their arms linked. For a moment he thought she might be one of the other brides, but at a closer look, she appeared to be older. Maybe somewhere in her late thirties or early forties.

  She leaned toward Adelaide and spoke to her briefly, and then sauntered up to the wagon just as it rolled to a stop.

  Miles tugged on the brim of his hat. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”

  “Good afternoon to you as well, sir.” She regarded him with such intensity he almost looked behind him to see if there was someone beyond his shoulder threatening the woman.

  “I understand you were in such an all-fire hurry to get married that you couldn’t wait until my girls reached Santa Fe.”

  “Your girls?”

  “That’s right, Mr. Ryan. I’ve been authorized by the marshal to chaperone these girls to Santa Fe. But it seems you just couldn’t wait.”

  He drew himself up, having no intention of allowing this woman to browbeat him. “That’s right, ma’am. Since the ladies are mail order brides anyway, and with no one set to claim them when they arrive, I decided to make an offer to Mrs. Markham. Actually, she is now Mrs. Ryan, since she has accepted me.”

  She moved closer and the intensity of her scrutiny increased. “I expect you to take good care of her, Mr. Ryan.” She waggled her finger in his face. “I will be watching you.”

  “I have every intention of taking good care of my wife, ma’am.”

  “See that you do.” With a swish of her skirts she turned and joined Adelaide on the boardwalk. She gave her a hug, whispered once again into her ear and entered the hotel.

  Miles hopped down and took Adelaide by the hand as she cast him a nervous smile. He was aware of the fresh scent of lemons coming from her that he hadn’t noticed before. Fighting the disturbing urge to pull her close to feel her soft curves against his body, he lifted her into the vehicle. His hands spanned her waist completely.

  Not sure what was happening to him, he climbed up on the bench alongside her, careful to avoid touching his leg to hers. “Who was that woman?”

  Perhaps Adelaide had felt something, too, because she flushed as she smoothed out her skirt and adjusted her bonnet. “Her name is Miss Nellie Ward. The marshal arranged for her to travel with the girls as a chaperone to Santa Fe and see that we all get married.”

  “She reminds me of my Sunday school teacher.” He snapped the reins, and the wagon moved forward.

  Covering her mouth with her gloved hand, she giggled. “Oh, believe me, Mr. Ryan, Miss Ward is no Sunday school teacher.”

  It was a pleasant ride to the fort. With the distance he managed to keep between them, his awareness of her eased and he was able to concentrate on the ride. The air was cool, the weather just beginning to embrace the new season. Pale green leaves appeared on the trees, bright colored spring flowers dotted the fields.

  “I’ve never been to Fort Dodge before.” Adelaide twisted her body in one direction, then the other, as she took in the first sight of the stone buildings of the fort.

  “Fort Dodge is one of the most important forts in these parts for travelers on the Santa Fe Trail. It was established in 1865 by order of Major General Dodge. The fort started out dealing with Indian problems in the area, but now its main purpose is to protect the wagon trains along the trail.” Miles pointed to a few of the low buildings. “This is the second location of the fort. It was moved here about ten years ago.”

  “That’s very interesting.” She continued to take in their surroundings, leaving him more uneasy as they drew closer to the area where the wagons were stationed. In a very short time she would discover his deceit. Perhaps he should pull over and have a talk before they went any further.

  “I assume you have supplies for me to fix us supper?”

  Grateful to be granted a slight reprieve, he nodded as he maneuvered the horse and wagon around a group of soldiers leaning against a fence post, smoking cigarettes. “Yes. The things I was out of I managed to pick up in the mercantile. Our supplies now should last until we reach Santa Fe.”

  He spotted his wagon and steered toward it. The girls were nowhere to be seen, so apparently Mrs. Schulze still had them at her wagon. This entire situation was becoming ridiculous. After bringing the horse to a complete stop and setting the brake lock, he turned to Adelaide. “There is something I failed to mention when I asked you to marry me.”

  “Mr. Ryan.” A deep male voice rang out in the stillness, causing Adelaide and Miles to turn.

  “Easton.” Miles nodded at the man.

  The wagon master strode up to the wagon and spit a stream of tobacco juice from the side of his mouth. “I see you got yourself a wife.”

  “Yes, I did.” Miles turned to Adelaide. “This is Easton Drover, our wagon master.”

  Easton tipped his hat. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ryan. I’m pleased you decided to marry up with Miles. He sure does need the help, and without it, I’m afraid I wasn’t gonna let him continue with the group.”

  Adelaide cast Easton a quizzical look. No doubt wondering if her new husband was so weak or inept he couldn’t keep up with the slow pace of the wagon train. He needed to get this all straightened out, and fast.

  Miles climbed down, and turned to help Adelaide. “If you’ll excuse us, Easton, I have to get these supplies here unloaded and put away.”

  “Sure enough. We’ll be pulling out at first light tomorrow. Those other brides should be arriving any time now.” He nodded at Adelaide and tugged on the brim of his hat again. “Ma’am.”

  Adelaide shook out her skirts and frowned. “You really did need the help, didn’t you? How are Nellie and the other girls going to make this trip if it was too hard for you to do alone?”

  Miles removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, there is more to it than that. It’s about what I started to tell you before Easton walked up.”

  She looked at him expectantly just as a blood-curdling shriek came from the opposite direction. They both turned to see a large woman dragging two little girls along past several wagons.

  Miles groaned as Mrs. Schulze, Beth Ann, and Lizzie wended their way through various camp sites toward him. Something dark was smeared on Beth Ann’s face and Lizzie’s hands.

  The woman stopped right in front of him, her bosom heaving from the exertion of moving fast and dragging the girls. “Mr. Ryan. Do you know what they’ve done this time?”

  Feeling his stomach muscles tighten, he shook his head. “No, Mrs. Schulze, but I have a feeling you will enlighten me directly.”

  Adelaide turned to him wide-eyed, her face pale, lips tight. “Who . . . what . . .”

  Beth Ann gave him the smile that had gotten her out of numerous escapades in the past several months. “Hi, Pa.”

  3

  Miles looked as if he wanted to run as far away from the circle of women and girls surrounding him as he could before the shooting started. Adelai
de couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry. The two girls dangling from the large woman’s hands appeared anything but remorseful. Whatever it was the urchins had gotten into, they saw it as a huge joke.

  She, on the other hand, saw absolutely nothing funny about being tricked into marriage with a father of two girls. “Don’t you think you should introduce me, husband?”

  Three stunned sets of eyes flew to her. “Husband!” the woman and two girls shouted, then turned to Adelaide. The girls in sulky silence, the woman with pity.

  “I, ah, was about to tell you . . .” Miles started, then stopped as she stabbed his chest with her finger.

  “Don’t you even try to make excuses, Mr. Ryan.” Her anger was so intense she wouldn’t have been surprised if the top of her head shot off. “You purposely left off telling me about your daughters.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “And I want to know why. Right now.”

  “I’ll tell you why, Mrs. Ryan.” Her chest swelling up, the woman let go of the little girls and straightened her bonnet. “These children are the work of the devil—“

  “—Now wait just a minute,” Miles sputtered.

  Adelaide rounded on him. “You hush and let her have her say.”

  “Since we left Independence, these girls have been a nuisance to the entire wagon train. They are the most ill-behaved children on the good Lord’s earth. Why, they have no respect for—“

  Frightened by the woman’s deep red flush, Adelaide changed her mind about allowing the woman her say. Laying her hand on the woman’s shoulder, she said, “I see that you are very upset. I think it’s best if you go on back to your wagon and let Mr. Ryan handle this.”

  “That’s the problem, Mrs. Ryan. He never handles anything.” She pointed a shaky finger at Miles. “It’s a good thing you got yourself a wife. That’s all I have to say.”

  Barely taking a breath, she whipped around to face Adelaide, and continued on. “You poor thing, I just hope these hooligans don’t chase you off.” With another pitying glance she stomped off.

  Taking a deep breath, Adelaide looked at her step-daughters and something protective and maternal, that she thought she’d buried with Mary, rose up in her. No child was that bad. Despite the hurt and anger she felt toward Miles, she couldn’t transfer those feelings to these little girls. They were in need of something their father wasn’t giving them.

  Both girls had the blonde curls and big blue eyes of angelic children one expected to see dressed in angel gowns and wings at a Christmas play. The younger one still had her baby chubbiness. They held each other’s hands, their heads down.

  How could such sweet-looking children cause such a ruckus? She worried that she was about to find out.

  Pulled from her musings, she realized the woman’s mumbling and dire predictions for the girls had slowly faded into an awkward silence. Miles ran his fingers through his hair, casting Adelaide uneasy glances.

  She turned to Miles. “You and I have the need for a conversation, sir. However, that will best wait until we’ve all had supper and these young ladies have gone to bed.”

  The little girls stared up at her, the younger one with a bit of trepidation, the older one with defiance. Adelaide dropped to her knees so she was eye level with the girls. “What are your names, and how old are you?”

  The smallest one stuck her thumb in her mouth. “Beth Ann. And I’m six.” Adelaide had to fight the urge to reach out and smooth Beth Ann’s curls back from her forehead and pull her close. Although Mary’s brown eyes and hair had been in stark contrast to this little one, overwhelming feelings gripped her at being this close to the girl. Something she’d sworn she would never do again.

  The familiar scent of a child, the trust and need in her eyes, set her senses reeling. Fighting tears, she regarded the other girl with raised eyebrows. “And your name.”

  She gave her a solemn look. “Cleopatra.”

  Adelaide sat back on her heels and eyed Miles. “Cleopatra?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “No. Her name is Lizzie.”

  “Ah. Lizzie. I love that name. It’s short for Elizabeth. How old are you Lizzie?”

  “Eighteen.”

  Miles scowled. “She’s eight.”

  Here was where the problem lay. The older girl was the one to watch. She most likely led her younger sister on various forays into mischief. “I think you are a very smart girl, Lizzie. But you know something?”

  Lizzie shrugged.

  “I’m smart, too. So be very careful.” Adelaide rose and swept the fallen hair from her forehead. “Now I want the two of you to go to the water barrel and scoop out water to wash off whatever that stuff is that’s all over your hands and faces.”

  Surprised when they instantly obeyed, clasping each other’s hands and heading to the barrel sitting alongside the wagon, she raised her chin and addressed Miles. “Please start a fire and show me where your supplies are.”

  “Adelaide, look—“

  “Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Just let me get supper going. We will make time later for you to explain.” If she had to confront him now on what he’d done, she would most likely scream like a shrew, which would no doubt delight Lizzie but scare little Beth Ann.

  Miles started a fire after showing her where the supplies were. He then kept busy re-arranging the wagon, making room for her things and the supplies he’d bought. Casting her furtive glances the entire time, she swore he removed and placed back into the wagon the same items several times. Most likely avoiding conversation.

  Fine. She didn’t want to talk to him, either.

  She pulled out the makings for fried potatoes and bacon, pounding the dough for biscuits a little bit harder than necessary. Both girls sat crisscrossed, practically at her feet, watching every move she made. She had to keep reminding herself it wasn’t the girls’ fault their father had deceived her.

  “Lizzie, would you please find dishes for us to use?”

  They rose in unison, holding hands again as they climbed into the wagon. At first it struck her odd that they were dressed in boys clothing. Then she realized traveling a long distance on a dusty trail made pants more sensible than dresses.

  As she mixed, stirred, and pounded, she dwelt on her new role as wife and mother. She’d been so happy as Gerald’s wife and Mary’s mother. Keeping a clean, comfortable home for her little family had given her such a sense of purpose and being needed. But she’d learned that happiness was fleeting. It could be ripped from you quickly and viciously.

  Once Gerald had died, she should have tried to sell her house and Gerald’s business rather than placing it into the hands of an attorney to deal with. He never had time to see her and if she’d done it herself, she could have moved anywhere in the county. If the funds hadn’t been enough to support her, she could have taken a job teaching.

  Now because of her race from the home she’d loved, she was in a situation she never wanted to be in again. How was she to be a mother to these two little girls without loving them? She couldn’t do that again. Mary was seven when she died, right between Lizzie and Beth Ann. The pain was still sharp, and she greatly resented Miles doing this to her.

  They all sat as a family, and after Adelaide nudged Miles to say the blessing, they ate in silence. Even though she’d been hungry before, she found her appetite had vanished with the coming confrontation with Miles.

  What amazed her more than anything was his lack of curiosity as to what the girls had gotten into while he’d been gone. It was no wonder they misbehaved. He apparently hadn’t been doing a very good job of keeping them in line.

  Speaking with her ‘mother’ voice, she eyed the girls. “You will wash the dishes, dry them, and put them away. Then wash up and put on your night clothes. Your father and I are going for a short walk.”

  Lizzie’s eyes grew wide. “Why do we have to do your work?”

  “And what makes you think it’s my work?” Adelaide answered coolly.

/>   Beth Ann stuck her thumb in her mouth and looked back and forth between her sister and Adelaide.

  “Never mind,” Lizzie said. She nudged Beth Ann. “Come on.”

  Catching the glint in the older girl’s eyes, Adelaide leaned forward. “Be very careful. If you cause any trouble you have no idea what I might do.”

  After a flicker of uncertainty, Lizzie resumed her normal scowl.

  Adelaide and Miles had walked about fifty feet from the last wagon when she spun on her heel and crossed her arms under her breasts. She dropped them quickly when his eyes slid to her chest, a slight smile gracing his full lips. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage those ideas. “All right. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, which she was coming to know he did when he was unsettled. Well, she was certainly unsettled, too.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my daughters. I was afraid after you said you lost your own little girl that you would turn me down.”

  “Yes. I would have.”

  She stepped back when he reached for her, not wanting the distraction his touch caused, which she still hadn’t comes to terms with. Here she was attracted to a man she didn’t want to be attracted to, who had two daughters needing a mother she didn’t want to be.

  What a mess.

  “I love my daughters very much. But I never had many dealings with them. My wife, Eve, died three months ago. She always did whatever it was the girls needed to have done. My job as a sheriff didn’t leave a whole lot of time to be a father. Many times I had to be out of town tracking criminals.”

  He paced as he continued to ramble on. “It wasn’t until Eve died that I realized how little I knew about the girls’ everyday lives. How to fix their hair, what foods they liked, who their friends were, how they were doing in school.”

  Adelaide had to swallow the tears at the images his words called to mind. Braiding Mary’s hair, making her pancakes, her favorite food, checking over her schoolwork. All the things she’d done as a mother that she lost when her little girl died. How could she do all of those things for two girls and avoid the pain if she lost them, too?

 

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