What’s stronger? Your love or your fear?
She sat up straight and stiffened her shoulders. Since when did Adelaide Elizabeth Smith Markham Ryan become a weakling? Why was she letting her fear control her life? She had a wonderful husband, two beautiful daughters, and a lovely home.
Pulling the ticket out of her pocket, she stared at it, wondering what to do. Her eyes flew to the door of the dining room when it swept open, and a man stood there. It was hard to see his face because the sun was at his back. He moved stealthily forward, heading directly toward her.
The walk was familiar, the broad shoulders, the long legs.
Miles.
Her heart jumped and she licked her dry lips. He’d come for her. Or maybe he’d come to tell her good riddance. All of a sudden she was very nervous, not sure if she should run or stay put.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ryan.” His deep voice rolled over her as he pulled out the chair across from her, turned it around and sat, resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair. “Having breakfast?”
She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
His lips quirked. “Don’t like your new stove?” There it was again. That smile that always set her heart to thumping.
Adelaide shrugged. Why did he have to be so handsome, and why did her stomach do a country reel when he looked at her? And drat that lock of hair that perpetually fell on his forehead. His eyes twinkled, but at the same time she noticed a bit of apprehension there.
Now she felt utterly foolish and hoped to God he hadn’t come to see her on the stagecoach and out of his life forever. She cleared her throat. “The stove is fine.”
“Um hm.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Felt the urgent need to eat at the hotel?”
Desperately, she tried to control her chin, but it wouldn’t stop quivering. Her eyes filled up and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. A sob broke through, but she managed to quell the torrent of tears threatening to humiliate her. She fumbled with the stagecoach ticket in her hand.
Miles reached over and took it out of her hand. He glanced down and said, “Beaver’s Dam?”
“Yes.”
“You know someone in Beaver’s Dam that you’re hankering to visit?”
Again she nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Honey, you do know there is no such place as Beaver’s Dam? That Mrs. Peters made up the name when she suspected you had no sister to visit?”
Oh, dear God. The woman must have had a good laugh when Adelaide had said Beaver’s Dam was where her sister lived. Humiliation flooded her and the tears she tried so hard to hold back slid down her face, dropping like raindrops onto her dress. She hung her head in shame.
Miles climbed from the chair and circled the table, pulling Adelaide into his arms. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get a room where we can have some privacy.”
The small room Miles rented was on the second floor of the building, facing the street. He rested his hand on her lower back as they made their way up the stairs and into the room. Once the door was closed, he moved to the bed and drew her onto his lap. “Please tell me you’ve changed you mind.”
She curled her body against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m so afraid.”
He placed his knuckle under her chin and lifted her head. “I’m afraid, too. Beth Ann is my daughter. The thought of losing her terrifies me. Or losing Lizzie.” He kissed her lightly on her lips. “Or you.” He held her face in both hands a looked her in the eye. “Yes, I’m very much afraid of losing you, but that doesn’t stop me from loving you.”
He loves me.
“I love you, too.” The whispered words felt right. She cleared her throat. “But I’m still afraid.”
“Can we be afraid together?” He brushed back the hair from her face. “Do you know what Mrs. Peters told me when I stopped to ask her where you’d gone? She said if I gave you lots of babies you wouldn’t have time to fret and fuss over one or the other.”
Adelaide laughed through her tears. “More babies? I’m terrified of losing one of the two we already have.”
“Life is full of risks, honey. If we try to avoid them, we would never leave our homes. If fear wins, we lose.”
She wiped the tears from her face. “My, you’ve become quite the philosopher.”
“No. I’m merely a man trying desperately to get my wife to come home with me.” He gave her that crooked smile that she so loved. “What do you say, Mrs. Ryan? Shall we hold hands and take a leap of faith?”
Following a full afternoon of lovemaking in the hotel room, Miles and Adelaide walked hand-in-hand to the stable to retrieve their horses. Miles had never felt so good in his life. He got his wife back, his daughter was recovering, and he was about to make a major change in his life. Something he’d wanted for a long time.
They took their time riding home, almost as if they didn’t want to break the spell they were under. As they rode up to the main house, Lizzie ran up to them. Beth Ann sat on the porch. “Where were you all day?”
Miles swung his leg over Devil and dropped to the ground. Moving to Adelaide’s side, he lifted her from her horse. “You have to eat more, Mrs. Ryan, you’re getting too thin.”
Beth Ann had joined them. “You were gone a long time.”
He tapped her on her pert little nose. “Yes, I know. I had important things to take care of.” He winked at Adelaide. “But now I want us all to go inside. I want to talk to my parents, and this concerns all of you.”
They trooped inside, and found his parents in the parlor. Ma had her sewing basket on her lap and Pa flipped through the newspaper. “Well, there you are. I thought you said you wouldn’t be long.” Ma put the basket down.
Miles waved to his family. “Sit down.” He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled to the fireplace where he turned and faced them all. “I hate farming.”
His mother made to speak, and he held up his hand. “No. You’re going to listen.” He took a deep breath. “I loved being a sheriff, and was sorry to leave that job, but the dream I tucked away my entire life, has been to own and operate a horse farm.
“I was saving money from my sheriff’s job to buy an operation I had my eye on. But when Eve died I used quite a bit of that money to move here.” He turned to his mother. “Because I was told you desperately needed help for the farm and couldn’t afford to hire hands.”
Ma shifted in her seat. “I thought it was the only way.”
“What I have to say to all of you is this. Tomorrow I’m headed back into town to hire enough hands to make it easy on Pa.”
His mother tilted her chin up, a touch of sorrow in her eyes. “You’re leaving, then?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m going to be looking for a few horses to start a horse farm. I can buy the back forty acres from you, if you’re willing to take payments. It will be slow going in the beginning since I have to chase wild horses and break them in, too. Then there’s the cost of corrals, barns, feed, things like that.”
Adelaide stood and pulled an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Ma. “Here. This might cover the cost of the land, or a down payment if not.”
“No, Adelaide, that money goes back into the bank. I’ve talked to Sheriff Blaine in town a he says he needs a deputy once in a while to cover for him. I’ll be doing that for extra money.”
She rounded on him, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. “No. If we’re going to be a family, then we all must work together. I have no use for that money. But I want you to have your dream.”
He rested his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Adelaide—“
Leaving forward, her hands on her hips, she said, “Miles.”
At this point they were nose-to-nose when Lizzie jumped up. “Don’t fight! Take Ma’s money, Pa. I agree with her, you should have your dream.”
“Yeah, your dream, Pa.” Beth Ann chimed in.
Miles shook his head and grinned, pulling Adelaide to his side. “It appea
rs I’m outnumbered.”
“Yay!” Both girls jumped up and down, then hugged their parents.
Miles looked over Adelaide’s head at his mother. “Well? Will you sell me the back forty?”
They all turned to look at her. His ma stared at the four of them. “As my son said, it appears I’m outnumbered.”
Pa sat on the edge of Ma’s chair and put his arm around her shoulders. “Good decision.”
Epilogue
Five years later
The Rockin’ Ryan Ranch
“Twins! Are you kidding me?” Miles stared at the midwife in horror. Two more girls? That made six girls. Lizzie, Beth Ann, Madeline, Margaret, and now two more girls to find names for. When Mrs. Peters told him years ago that a lot of babies would keep Adelaide from worrying too much about one or the other she must have placed a curse on him.
“Oh, stop fussing. Girls are fun.” Ma bustled into the room, a stack of diapers over her arm. She moved to the bed where Adelaide lay with a small pink bundle in each arm.
“Look at it this way, dear. We can keep using the girls’ clothes for the new babies.” Adelaide placed a kiss on one of the babies’ heads.
Miles moved around the bed and skillfully took one baby from her arms. He held the little girl up to his face. “What do you say? What name do you like?”
“I like Dorothy Louise and Caroline Esther.” Adelaide said.
He placed the baby in the crook of his arm. “You’ve been thinking about this, darlin’”.
“Well, given our record it only seemed practical to have several girl’s names ready.”
He sat alongside her and eased down the soft pink blanket from the baby she held. “Which is which?”
Adelaide kissed the baby she held. “This is Dorothy Louise.” She ran her finger over the downy red fuzz on the baby’s head that he held. “And this is Caroline Esther.”
His four older daughters came charging into the room. “I heard we have two more sisters.” Thirteen year old Lizzie climbed up on the bed. “I was really hoping for a brother this time.”
“Just be thankful they are healthy, that’s all that matters.” Adelaide said, a bit of sharpness in her voice.
He guessed she would never completely get over losing Mary and almost losing Beth Ann. But most days she was cheerful, happy and very, very busy.
Every day he was grateful for the wagon train master who made him race into town to find a bride. He couldn’t imagine how his life would be if he hadn’t walked into the sheriff’s office that day and said, “I’ll take her.”
He pulled her into his arms, being careful not to squish the two babies between them. “I love you, wife. And thank you for these two new little girls.”
“And I love you, too, husband. And thank you, also, for our new daughters.” She looked around at the crowded room. “And to my wonderful girls. I love you all so much.”
Then she burst into tears and the girls all rolled their eyes.
The End
Turn the page to read Prisoners of Love: Cinnamon.
Prisoners of Love: Cinnamon
Dodge City, Kansas, 1877. Saloon girl, Cinnamon O’Brien, sits in Dodge City jail with three other women charged with various crimes. Her charges, of course, are totally unfair since she only hit the mayor over the head with the pitcher of beer because he grabbed her lady parts. Now the marshal gives the four women a choice: join up with the wagon train in Fort Dodge and head to Santa Fe as a mail order bride, or when the judge sobers up, he’ll be so ornery he’ll probably sent them to the state prison.
Before they even leave, childhood friend, Jedediah Nelson, newly ordained preacher headed to Santa Fe, and in need of a wife, proposes to Cinnamon. A preacher and a saloon girl? She’s about to give him a wild ride.
1
Dodge City, Kansas
April, 1877
Cinnamon O’Brien, better known as “Mindy, the whore’s kid,” bent to place a pitcher of beer on a table with three rowdy cowboys attempting to drink themselves into a coma. It wasn’t even noon on Saturday, and a new bunch of cattlemen had arrived, along with the buffalo hunters, railroad workers, drifters, and soldiers. All of them drinking, swearing, and wearing out the girls who hauled one man after another upstairs.
A sweaty hand landed on her leg, and slowly made its way up her dress, until it cupped her bottom and squeezed. Mindy jerked and turned, anger flooding her at the laughter and lewd remarks coming from the table next to her. Giving her a lopsided smile, Mayor Stumpy Gardner continued to pat and rub her more private parts. “What do you say, Mindy? Wanna make some extra money and take a few of us upstairs?”
She stepped away from the man and fisted her hands at her side. “Get your filthy hands off me. Mayor or not, you have no right to touch me.”
“Ah, come on, now little lady. You can’t tell me your ma ain’t given you lessons on how to please a man.”
More laughter and stomping. Another man called out, “Come on, sweetheart. We got the money, and I’m tired of waiting for my turn to go upstairs.”
The mayor reached for her again. “I said get your hands off me,” she growled.
The man leered at her and continued to squeeze and rub. Mindy leaned across the table, picked up the pitcher of beer she’d just delivered, and giving it all her might, she swung it at the mayor, hitting him over the head, with a loud thunk. His eyes bulging in his face, he grabbed his head, foamy beer running down his eyes, nose, and face to drip from his chin onto his rotund belly. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slowly slumped to the floor with a loud crash that stopped all noise in the saloon.
Aw shit, I’ve gone and killed the mayor!
Good. The lecher deserved it.
The stunned silence soon ended with more yelling and shouting. Someone hollered to get the doctor, and another man grabbed her and pulled her hands behind her back. “Go git the marshal. This here woman is a murderer.”
Mindy tried to pull away, but the man holding her was having none of it. Within minutes the doctor—who had been playing cards next door—and the marshal—who was buttoning up his pants, stomped into the room, looking none too happy for having been disturbed. Dr. Benson bent over the prostrate man and began to feel his head. Marshal Dane Jones took Mindy by the arm. “What the hell did you go and do now, girl? Did you kill that man?”
“Nah, he ain’t dead,” the doctor said. “She knocked him out cold, though.”
“Let’s go.” The marshal marched her out of the saloon. “If you’re here when ole Stumpy wakes up, he’s gonna be tearing after you.”
“Where you taking me?” Mindy was a bit breathless trying to keep up with the marshal’s strides as he dragged her down the boardwalk.
“Jail.” He hustled her past all the other saloons doing a raucous business. Two men flew through the batwing doors of the Golden Buck, rolling on the boards, punching each other until they almost knocked her and the marshal over.
Marshal Jones dropped Mindy’s arm and walked to the horse trough. Picking up a bucket sitting alongside it, he scooped out water and dumped it on the two men. They sputtered and shouted. The marshal took Mindy’s arm again and went on his way. “Two bit cowboys,” he mumbled as they arrived at the front door of the jail. “Goddamn, I hate Saturdays. It’s only gonna get worse as the day goes on.”
One of the town’s deputy marshals, Terry Perkins, leaned back against the wall, his chair braced on two legs, his crossed ankles resting on the desk. His hat was pulled over his eyes, and it was obvious from the sounds coming from underneath the hat that he was enjoying a nap.
Dane kicked the chair legs out from under him, spilling the man onto the floor. “What the hell?” He jumped up and went for the gun in the holster strapped to his thigh.
“Put that thing away before you shoot your fool head off.” Dane glowered at his deputy. “The town ain’t paying you to sleep. You’re supposed to be watching the prisoners.”
“There ain’t nothing to wa
tch. All you have back there are three women who spend most of their time crying.”
“Yeah, well now we have four women.” He all but dragged Mindy to the back of the room where, sure enough, three women sat in a cell. He pulled the key from the ring on a hook by the jail cell and opened the door. “Y’all have a new cellmate.” He shoved Mindy in and locked the door.
“How long do I have to stay in here?” Mindy rubbed her arm.
“Till I’m good and ready to let you out. And with how mad the mayor’s going to be when he wakes up, you best be settling in that cell. It won’t be healthy for you to be traipsing around town, I can tell you that much.” With that statement, he turned and headed back to the front area. “Don’t fall asleep again, Perkins. This is Saturday, and I got my hands full.”
“Yes sir,” the deputy mumbled. Then in a show of force, he added with a raised voice, “Hey y’all back there. Y’all better settle down and stop all that caterwauling. I ain’t listening to no more women bawling.” With that, he took his seat once more, and Marshal Jones stomped out the door, slamming it shut, rattling the windows.
Mindy plunked down on one of the cots shared by another woman. She looked over at her. “What are you in for?”
“Vagrancy.”
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“Having no job, no home, and no money.”
“Well, hell, if you ain’t got a job, then there ain’t no way to have a home or money.” She adjusted the straps on her dress and tugged the neckline up. “My name’s Cinnamon O’Brien. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll call me Mindy. What’s yours?”
“Adelaide Markham.”
“You look like what my ma calls a ‘good, God-fearing woman.’ How’d you end up with nothing?”
Prisoners of Love Books 1-3: Adelaide Cinnamon Becky Page 11
