Trail to Clear Creek (Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection One Book 3)

by Kit Morgan

  “Mrs. Sayer.” The man took off his hat.

  Colin glanced between them then looked at Duncan. “He’s the last for today.”

  Honoria watched her eldest quickly assess the man. Mr. Cooke had come to her aid the other day. Surely that was worth something.

  “You are?” Duncan asked.

  “Jefferson Cooke, at your service.” His eyes met Honoria’s.

  She felt something in the pit of her stomach. Probably because he’s a familiar face, and a nice one at that, she thought. He wasn’t as handsome as her Benedict had been, but he looked honest and hard-working. His clothes were clean, his face shaven, and he was looking at her with concern and admiration rather than lust and avarice. She was so tired of this business already, and dreaded the prospect of facing another day of it … “Mr. Cooke, how nice to see you again. Are you here to …?”

  “I just happened to be on your porch, ma’am. I mean, Mrs. Drury’s porch.” He put his hat behind his back.

  “Won’t you sit down?” Honoria motioned to the empty chair on the other side of the dining room table.

  Mr. Cooke sat, set his hat on the table and cleared his throat. “I … didn’t mean to be here.”

  She felt suddenly disappointed. He’s so much cleaner and nicer than the rest, she thought. But if that wasn’t why he was here, why was he? “I understand. You’re welcome to leave if you wish.”

  But he didn’t, just watched her and cleared his throat again. “I … I ain’t good at this sort of thing, Mrs. Sayer. Like I said, I didn’t plan to be here.”

  “Yet here you are,” Duncan pointed out.

  By this time Harrison had shown up, and he and Colin stood on the threshold between the dining room and parlor. “I brought him in,” Colin volunteered. “He … looked like he should be here.”

  Duncan arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

  “Mother, aren’t you going to ask him some questions?” Harrison inquired.

  “You two wait in the other room,” Duncan ordered. “We’ll handle this.”

  “What’s to handle?” Mr. Cooke asked and reached for his hat. “Your brother brought me inside, but I was just …”

  “Not planning to be here,” Duncan cut in. “Yes, you mentioned. But since you are here, we might as well find out a little more about you.”

  Mr. Cooke glanced between Honoria and Duncan. “Fine by me.” Though he didn’t sound at all sure.

  Honoria unconsciously put her hand to her chest in relief. “Good – let’s get on with it.” She glanced at Duncan, who shrugged, then turned back to Mr. Cooke. “Why do you want to travel west?”

  Mr. Cooke sat a little straighter. “My wife Mary died about a year back. I’ve got two boys, about grown now. Samuel just turned eighteen a couple of months ago. Jack’s sixteen.”

  She smiled warmly. “Go on.”

  “I was a farmer for years, but Mary didn’t take to farm life so we moved to St. Louis. I worked in a saloon for a time, then a mercantile, but I missed farming. So I convinced Mary we could make a new start …” Mr. Cooke sighed.

  “And then she died?” Duncan asked.

  “Yep.” He took a breath, let it out and licked his lower lip. “I loved my wife, but … she never would’ve made the journey, I see that now.” He hung his head and twisted his hat in his hands. “I miss her sometimes. The boys do too.” He looked at her, his eyes misted with emotion. “I understand what you’re going through all too well, Mrs. Sayer.”

  Honoria’s heart went out to him. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I miss my husband too.”

  Mr. Cooke sat up straight. “The West is a lonely place, Mrs. Sayer. Women are scarce, men can be mean and there ain’t enough law to go around. It’s a dangerous place for a lady such as yourself. I can give you the protection of my name, my gun, a strong back and two good working hands, plus my sons to pitch in for the time being. It’s all I’ve got to offer. I’m a farmer, nothing more. If you’re wanting more, I ain’t the man for you.” He looked at Duncan. “How old are you, son?”

  “Nineteen,” Duncan said, eyes fixed on him.

  Mr. Cooke nodded. “Pretty soon you’ll be wanting to wed, start a family. I won’t stop you, no more than I’d stop my boys from doing the same.”

  Duncan studied him a moment. “I’ll not leave my family until I’m sure they are well provided for, Mr. Cooke. Until that time, consider us …” He cocked his head. “… partners in that endeavor.”

  “Sure enough,” Mr. Cooke said. “We’d be partners, along with Samuel, and see the younguns are brought up proper.” He glanced at Colin and Harrison. “Though they don’t got much more growing to do from the looks of it.”

  “Colin is fourteen, Harrison twelve,” Honoria said. “They’re good boys, but still young.”

  Mr. Cooke nodded, put on his hat and stood. “Think on it, Mrs. Sayer. I can’t give you riches or fancy clothes, but I can put food on the table and a roof over your heads.” He turned to leave.

  “Mr. Cooke,” she said.

  He stopped, looked at her and froze, as if whatever came out of her mouth next would seal his fate. But would that fate be so bad? He wasn’t good with words, it seemed, but she could see he was sincere. “Ma’am?”

  “I’ll let you know in the morning.”

  His eyes locked on hers, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “Thank you, ma’am.” With another nod, he left the room.

  “Well, I dare say,” Honoria whispered after she heard the front door close.

  “At least he was clean,” Duncan said as Colin and Harrison joined them at the table.

  “And his hair was combed,” Harrison added.

  “And he told one nasty fellow on the porch a thing or two,” Colin said.

  Honoria’s eyebrows went up. “He did?”

  “Yes, which is why I brought him in and sent the others away.”

  She leaned toward him, her chest filling with pride. “My sweet darling, you did?”

  “Of course, Mother. Of all the men that came today, he was the only decent one.”

  “He’s also the only one that didn’t bring up money or ask what you could do for him,” Duncan pointed out.

  “Indeed,” Honoria said, her eyes scanning the room. “He offered himself, nothing more.”

  “But is that enough?” Harrison asked.

  She smiled at him. “Darling, sometimes that’s more than enough.” She turned to Duncan. “What do you think?”

  Duncan glanced at his brothers and sighed. “I think you’re going to do whatever you bloody well want, despite what I say. But he was by far the best of the lot, as far as I’m concerned.”

  She closed her eyes a moment. “Yes.”

  “Yes to what?” Colin asked.

  Honoria opened her eyes and smiled. “To both. I will do what I think is best, my darlings. But that doesn’t mean I don’t value your opinions.”

  “And what is your opinion of Mr. Cooke?” Harrison hedged.

  Honoria felt herself relax for the first time in days. “As your brother said, he’s the best of the lot. I think Mr. Cooke will do.” She got up and went to her room.

  My darling Benedict,

  I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m going to tell a man that yes, I’ll marry him. Though in this case he will not do the asking, but I. Perhaps I am gone mad, but this is the only way to see your plan through. I do hope you understand.

  Honoria.

  She set the pen down and closed her eyes. “Please, Lord, tell me I’m doing the right thing. Is this Mr. Cooke the one to get us where we need to go? Can I, will I grow to love him? I have so many questions, so many fears and doubts, and I can only imagine what my boys must think of me. But I made a promise to Benedict that I would see this through. As he lay dying in my arms, Lord, I’d have promised him anything. My only hope is that I can fulfill this.”

  Honoria opened her eyes, took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt. She felt helpless earlier, as if on a track she could not deviate from
, albeit one of her own making. Duncan was right – she’d see this through no matter the cost. Even if it meant she never felt love from a man again, or loved one in return.

  Duncan, Colin and Harrison sat on Mrs. Drury’s porch steps in silence. Ever since their mother went upstairs, they had been there, wondering what the future would bring. Their mother was going to marry Mr. Cooke and all three knew it. They also knew there was nothing they could do to convince her otherwise.

  “Do you think he’ll treat her well?” Harrison, sitting in the middle, asked.

  Duncan’s eyes flicked to him and back. “We’ll see to it he does.”

  “Have you seen his sons?” Colin asked.

  “I’ve just met the man, so no,” Duncan told him. “Perhaps we should meet them before this … happens.” He looked over the small yard.

  “What if we don’t like them?” Colin asked. “What if they’re complete boors?”

  Duncan sighed. “And what if they don’t like us? Did you think of that?”

  “I have,” Harrison quipped. “What a mess that’ll be to sort out.”

  “Doesn’t matter if we like them,” Duncan said. “Not at first.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Harrison said aghast. “We’ll be stuck with these blokes for two thousand miles and you say it doesn’t matter?”

  “Mother is what matters. Concentrate on her, leave the rest until later. I’m sure we’re capable of handling them.”

  Colin and Harrison glanced at each other and sighed in unison. “If one of them puts snakes in my bedroll, I might forget what matters,” Colin said.

  “No one is going to put anything into anyone’s bedroll,” Duncan said sternly. “Is that understood?”

  Colin and Harrison shared another glance. “Fine,” Colin said. “But then, I guess it’s all right if we …”

  “Enough,” Duncan stood. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re to leave Independence with the others. There are still supplies to be had.”

  “Can we take candy?” Harrison asked as he hopped off the steps. “Mr. Greenly has those wonderful licorice whips.”

  “Forget about the candy,” Duncan said. “Have you got your things sorted? We might not be able to bring all of it.”

  “What?!” his younger brothers exclaimed.

  Duncan hands went to his hips. “I’ve already gone through my things. Take only what’s necessary.”

  “But Duncan,” Harrison said. “Why?”

  “Because most of what we have can be left behind and replaced later. Mother has things that cannot be replaced so easily. She should be able to take what she wants.”

  Colin bit his lower lip and slowly nodded. “I don’t need my books. I can take just one. Though I dare say, I’ll have read it five times over before we reach Oregon Territory.”

  “A noble sacrifice,” said Duncan. “Harrison?”

  Harrison sighed. “I … can leave my books too. Most of them, anyway.”

  “You’ve already read them,” Duncan pointed out. “In fact, maybe Mr. Greenly would care to make a trade?”

  “Trade?” Harrison said. “For what?”

  “Ammunition would be nice,” Duncan replied.

  Harrison’s eyes went wide. “So you can shoot savages.”

  Colin smacked him on the arm. “Indians.”

  Harrison rubbed his arm and ignored him. “Will we need to hunt?”

  “Most likely.” Duncan surveyed the street. “After we leave civilization.”

  Colin and Harrison followed his gaze and stared at the houses and boardwalks. Independence was a small town, just the sort of place one could feel comfortable in, but only for a little while. All three understood their mother’s fear of staying another year and feeling “stuck.” And never quite having enough to leave.

  Harrison put his hands in his pockets. “I can whittle my books down to one. They’re newer than Colin’s. They’ll bring a better price.”

  “I have the jacket Father bought me for Christmas last year,” Colin said. “I’ve hardly worn it. Mr. Greenly is sure to think it’s worth something.”

  “Thank you,” Duncan said. “I can give him my coat too.”

  “The one Father gave you?” Harrison interjected. “But it belonged to him and …”

  Duncan raised a hand to still his brother. “And it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

  “No, you can’t,” Colin said. “It was his, you should keep it.”

  “Yes,” Harrison said. “We insist.”

  Duncan’s mouth held a hint of a smile. “All right, but as soon as it fits Colin, then it’s his. I know it’s a little big right now.”

  “And then Harrison will have it when he’s big enough to wear it,” Colin said.

  Harrison’s face lit up. “Thank you. You’ll both take good care of it between now and then, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” Duncan said. “What sort of brothers would we be if we didn’t?”

  Harrison sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I knew I could count on you.”

  Duncan saw his younger brother’s eyes mist up. They had so little left of their father, to the point that a simple brown coat could mean so much. “We’ll make sure we wear it as little as possible so it doesn’t grow threadbare.”

  “No, wear it as you will,” Harrison said. “Father would want you to. I’ll cherish it no matter if it’s threadbare or not.”

  Duncan nodded solemnly. “Then we are agreed. Now we have something else to agree on.”

  “Mother.” Colin looked at the ground. “Two thousand miles should be enough to get to know this Cooke chap, don’t you think?”

  “I dare say, I hope so,” Harrison said. “If not, then we’ll have a time of it, won’t we?”

  “And his sons?” Duncan added. “Can you get along with them?”

  “We’ll try,” Colin said. “But they’d best not start anything.”

  “I’m more concerned with you starting something,” Duncan folded his arms. “Promise me.”

  Colin’s eyes grew round. “Bloody promise you!”

  “Language,” Duncan said.

  “You say it,” Harrison quipped.

  “I’m a man.”

  “You’re only a few years older than me,” Colin pointed out.

  “Five years,” Duncan countered. “Not to mention smarter.”

  Colin’s mouth dropped open, snapped shut, opened again.

  “Look, he’s a fish!” Harrison laughed.

  “He knows I’m right,” Duncan said with a smirk.

  “Why, you arrogant blighter,” Colin snapped.

  “We shouldn’t fight,” Harrison warned, glancing at the second story of the house. “Mother will hear us.”

  Duncan and Colin looked upward. “He’s right – we need to stop this,” Duncan said. “Colin, I apologize.”

  Colin frowned. “Very well, but I am not a child. Don’t treat me like one. You’re not Father, you know.”

  That stung. Duncan wasn’t trying to be, but he also knew he was head of the household. For now anyway. Once Mother married that Mr. Cooke, then …

  “Look there, across the street,” Colin said. “There’s the chap Mr. Cooke was having words with before I invited him in to see Mother.”

  Duncan glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, a short wiry man was pacing, his head turning their way periodically. “I wonder if Mr. Meyer knows him. He is, after all, parading in front of his house.”

  “I don’t like the looks of that one,” Harrison said. “Reminds me of a rat.”

  Colin studied him. “He does rather, doesn’t he?”

  “Stop staring, you two.” Though Duncan looked over himself. “Are we agreed?”

  “To what?” Harrison asked. “What are we settling on?”

  “We agreed about Father’s coat,” Colin put in.

  “About Mr. Cooke and his sons,” Duncan said in exasperation. “Have we reached an accord?”

  “Oh, them,” Harrison said. He look
ed at Colin. “I won’t put any snakes in their beds. Will you?”

  Colin shrugged. “I’m all right with that.”

  Duncan eyed his brothers. They’d agreed too quickly. “Promise me.”

  Colin swallowed hard. “I …” he scrunched up his face. “… promise.”

  Duncan nodded. “Harrison?”

  His brother shrugged. “Very well. I promise also.”

  “Good. Then let’s get our things sorted. We’ll be packing the wagon tomorrow.”

  “What about their wagon?” Harrison asked.

  “What about it?”

  “What if they want to ride in ours?”

  Duncan hadn’t thought of that. He was still trying to wrap his head around their mother possibly getting married tomorrow, and whether he liked it, should it happen. He sighed. “Never mind about their wagon, let’s concentrate on ours.” He headed into the house, Colin and Harrison on his heels.

  Chapter Five

  Mother,” Harrison said from the other side of her door. “Mr. Cooke is here to see you.”

  “I’ll be right there, darling,” Honoria called back. She looked at her reflection in a mirror. There were dark smudges under her eyes, a telltale sign of lack of sleep. She’d tossed and turned the night before, wondering what the future would bring. Now it was here and she had to face it. She got up, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and left the room.

  Downstairs Jefferson Cooke stood in the parlor, wearing what looked like his Sunday best. “Mrs. Sayer,” he said softly. “I’ve come to hear what you have to say. Did you decide?”

  She approached slowly, her eyes darting to a chair. “Won’t you sit down?”

  “I’ll stand, thank you. No sense sitting if you’re going to send me away.”

  She smiled. “I’m not sending you away just yet.”

  His eyes widened slightly. He went to the nearest chair and sat. “Ma’am?”

  She took another chair, on the other side of a small table from him, and gathered her courage. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “No, ma’am. Just an answer.”

  She swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes. “Very well, then. Mr. Cooke … Jefferson … after much thought, I accept …”