New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  Without offering any more of an explanation, he sprang into action. He pulled on his denim work pants from the day prior, then he reached for a flannel shirt that he thrust his arms into.

  Carolyn scrambled to strike a match and light the candle by the bed. “I want to help,” she said, following after her husband.

  Bailey had his hand on the door, but he instantly froze and turned back to his wife. “It’s too dangerous,” he said.

  “I can do it,” she insisted.

  Bailey hesitated, then he considered the sight he had seen through the bedroom window. This stampede was easily three times the size of the Harvey’s herd that he had managed to suppress. He had no chance of taming it on his own… “All right,” he acquiesced. “Put these on.”

  He handed her a pair of denim work pants, and he could see the look of protest on her face. But she quickly bit back whatever words had formed on the tip of her tongue and silently slipped the pants over her legs. She trusted her husband, he knew what was best.

  She replaced her white nightgown with a flannel work shirt, and then she followed Bailey as he ran down the wooden stairs.

  He thrust his feet into the pair of leather boots waiting by the front door, and then he waited patiently while Carolyn stepped into her own boots and tied the laces tightly. Then he threw open the door and dashed outside, running toward the stables.

  For weeks, Bailey had been teaching Carolyn how to ride. She was a keen student, but she resented having to ride sidesaddle. She found it horribly frustrating, trying to stay on top of the horse and, at the same time, manage her skirt and remain decent.

  Tonight, she realized that she wouldn’t be facing that challenge. Tonight, wearing denim work pants in the place of her dress, she would straddle the saddle and ride the way instinct told her she should.

  “Take Roberta,” Bailey insisted as they ran into the stable.

  “Are you sure?” Carolyn knew that Roberta was Bailey’s beloved horse. He always favored her above the rest, and the feeling was mutual. No matter how many sugar cubes or carrots Carolyn fed Roberta from the palm of her outstretched hand, the horse never did seem to warm to her.

  “I’m sure,” Bailey nodded. “She’ll know what to do, and she’ll keep you out of harm’s way.”

  Carolyn approached Roberta and cautiously stretched out a hand to stroke the creature’s elegant snout.

  “There’s no time for that now,” Bailey reminded her, thrusting a saddle onto Roberta’s back. “We need to go, now!”

  Carolyn finished saddling Roberta while Bailey mounted a white, spotted horse named Rocky.

  Then, with a deep breath, Carolyn thrust her boot into the stirrup and pulled herself up, throwing one leg around the saddle and mounting Roberta.

  She immediately appreciated the sense of balance and control that she felt… completely unlike riding sidesaddle. But she still felt awkward. She had never found herself in such a position before, and it felt decidedly unladylike. She could only imagine what her mother might say… and then she thought of something even worse. What would the people of Calico Junction say, if they happened to see her wearing men’s clothes and riding in a saddle?

  “Are you all right?” Bailey asked.

  “What if someone sees me?” she asked.

  Bailey considered it for a moment, then he reached up and plucked the cowboy hat from atop his head. He bent down and dropped it on Carolyn’s head, covering her crown of brown curls.

  “Better?”

  “Perfect,” she grinned.

  “Good,” Bailey nodded. And with that, he shook Rocky’s reins and took the lead, galloping out of the stables and toward the source of the chaos, the stampede.

  Morning was approaching from the east, and the black night sky was starting to lighten to a deep blue. The moon was still out, illuminating the flat expanse of desert, and by the silvery light Carolyn could see the stampede in the distance.

  The sight took her breath away. It was far larger than she had imagined, and suddenly, even on Roberta’s back, she felt tiny and miniscule in comparison to the magnitude of the cattle army hurdling toward them.

  “Listen,” Bailey yelled, his voice barely reaching her over the thunder of hooves striking the earth. “The important thing about a stampede is to always stay to the side of it. Don’t get caught inside, and don’t try to outrun them. Understand?”

  “I understand,” Carolyn yelled back.

  “Stay close,” Bailey instructed.

  Even though she knew Bailey couldn’t see, Carolyn nodded. Then, as Bailey forced the reins, she followed him toward the stampede.

  The closer they got, the more that Carolyn could see by the white light of the full moon. And the more Carolyn could see, the more hopeless she began to feel.

  Bailey slowed his pace, and Carolyn followed suit until they both came to a stop.

  “It’s too late,” Bailey marveled, watching the chaos unfolding before his eyes. “It’s too late…”

  Indeed, the scene in front of them seemed beyond repair. The cattle had rushed through a downed section of fence, leaving a wake of injured steer. Some were on their side, grunting in pain as they lay crippled by injuries, broken bones, crushed chests. Others had crumpled onto the ground and lay motionless. Carolyn feared the worst for these creatures.

  “They’re still advancing toward the east,” Carolyn said, nodding in the direction that the stampede was thundering. “Can’t we try to stop them?”

  Bailey’s eyes trailed after the stampede, and he looked almost hopeless. “We can try,” he nodded finally.

  He shook his reins again, and Carolyn followed him toward the stampede. They jumped over the section of downed fence, moving beyond the boundaries of Thomas Ranch and wandering out into the desert.

  Bailey seemed to be galloping forward with renewed purpose and perseverance now, and his grit was contagious. Carolyn mimicked his stance, bending forward and clutching onto Roberta’s neck so that the night wind could roll over her back. She expected the horse to protest, but she didn’t. She accepted her rider, and she sped fearlessly forward.

  Bailey was making progress several paces ahead, rounding the edge of the stampede. Carolyn’s heart was racing as she trailed behind, and then she heard something that made her heart stop cold.

  “Help!”

  She tugged on Roberta’s reins and the horse bucked up, whinnying furiously.

  “Help me!” the voice called again.

  Carolyn looked forward, just in time to see Bailey’s back disappear into the darkness. He hadn’t heard the cries for help.

  Carolyn glanced back, and that’s when she saw it. At first glance, she assumed the dark shape crumpled on the desert landscape was another fallen cow. But on closer inspection, she recognized that the flailing body was in fact human.

  She steered Roberta forward, slowly approaching the figure.

  “Please help,” the voice cried out, sobbing for mercy. It was a man’s voice, though Carolyn didn’t recognize the man she saw crumbled on the ground. He extended a hand toward her, pleading.

  “Please,” he begged. “I was crushed by the stampede… I…”

  Carolyn’s eyes gazed down, and she saw the man’s leg snapped in half like a twig. She gulped, feeling suddenly sick at the sight of bone protruding and blood staining the denim of his pants.

  She swallowed heavily, then she leaned down and took the man’s hand.

  “Pull yourself up,” she barked in a deep voice that she didn’t recognize as her own.

  She wasn’t sure where the strength came from, perhaps adrenaline, perhaps she had the strength hidden inside her all along. Either way, with the man’s help, she was able to tug him onto Roberta’s back and rest him just behind the saddle. The man’s body was limp as he fell onto the horse, and he was panting to breathe through the pain.

  Carolyn glanced back toward the direction where the stampede had disappeared. Now she couldn’t see any sign of the cattle or her husband. She
was suddenly alone, and there was an eerie silence that filled the desert.

  But now that she had a passenger, she had no choice but to return back to the house…

  She steered Roberta back toward Thomas Ranch. The horse whinnied again in protest, not willing to leave without Bailey.

  “We’ll come back for him,” Carolyn whispered to the horse. And that was enough to motivate Roberta to reluctantly trudge back toward the ranch.

  With the man resting on the horse’s rear, they had to travel slowly, move too fast and he would slip off. Carolyn’s heart never stopped beating with the thought of Bailey, facing the stampede all alone in the desert. She would go back for him… she would.

  By the time they reached the house, the moon had faded and the sky had turned the shade of early morning periwinkle.

  She hadn’t planned what she would do with her passenger once she reached the house, and by the time she got there, it didn’t matter anyway. As soon as Roberta rounded the corner toward the stables, a team of people emerged and ran toward her.

  Carolyn scanned the crowd frantically, looking for Bailey’s face. She didn’t find him, but she did recognize Mr. Harvey.

  She pulled Roberta’s reins and came to a stop. The crowd of people helped the injured man slip off the back of the horse.

  Despite his injuries, the man didn’t seem particularly pleased to see the people. “You left me for dead!” he barked through pained pants. “You left me to be trampled by the stampede!”

  “I’m sorry, Lyle,” Dale said. “When we saw you fall off of your horse, we assumed you were done for…”

  Carolyn felt struck by a sudden understanding. The man she had rescued was Lyle Watkins, the same man that her husband had been telling her about earlier! The man who felt entitled to dictate how the Thomas stream should be shared with the town!

  “What’s all this about?” a clear voice came from behind the crowd, and Carolyn’s body flooded with relief as she looked up to see Bailey emerge from the house and step toward her.

  “This is all about Calico Junction being full of a bunch of no-good, unloyal hooligans!” Lyle jeered. “Every last one of ‘em is worthless, all except this man here.”

  Lyle turned, pointing toward Carolyn, who was still seated in her saddle atop Roberta.

  “This man saved my life,” Lyle said. “When the rest of you left me for dead. And for that, I owe him everything.”

  “This man here?” Bailey asked. He strode toward the horse, and the crowd parted to let him through. Then he reached up a hand to assist Carolyn in dismounting. Once her boots hits the earth, she reached for the cowboy hat and pulled it off, revealing her true identity.

  “I think you’re mistaken, Mr. Watkins,” Bailey said, turning toward the man. “It was no man that saved your life, it was my wife.”

  Mr. Watkins’s jaw dropped in shock, as did the jaws of every other man in the crowd.

  “You are right about one thing, though,” Bailey added. “She did save your life when the rest of your accomplices left you for dead. And for that, you do owe her everything. You can start with an apology.”

  Lyle Watkins bowed his head sheepishly, and under his breath he muttered, “I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas. I was wrong about your wife.”

  “Not to me, Mr. Watkins,” Bailey said. “I want you to apologize to my wife.”

  Lyle glanced up at Carolyn and sighed, then he said, “I apologize, Mrs. Thomas. I said some awful things about you, and I was wrong. You saved my life out there, and for that, I owe you everything.”

  Bailey and Carolyn saw to it that Mr. Watkins was taken into town to be treated for his injuries. Once the chaos had settled down, Bailey finally had a chance to explain everything that had happened to his wife.

  “I stopped most of the stampede,” he said. “We still lost a good share of our cattle, but the men in town have agreed to compensate our loss in kind. They’ll be giving us their own steer to replace the ones we lost.”

  “Why?” Carolyn wanted to know.

  “Because it was their fault the stampede started in the first place,” Bailey answered. “Several of the men in town, under the leadership of Mr. Watkins, banded together and made a plan to lead their cattle to our stream under the cover of darkness. In the process, they broke down our fence and spooked our herd. That’s when the stampede started.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “It is,” Bailey agreed. “But desperation makes good men do horrible deeds sometimes. So we’ve reached an agreement. They’ve agreed to rebuild the section of fence that they cost us and restore our herd, and in exchange, we’ll be moving our fence line so that anyone who needs the stream can have access to it.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “I thought you’d say that,” Bailey beamed at his wife, admiring her compassion. “That’s why I made sure they knew it was your idea.”

  Carolyn smiled and fell into her husband’s arms. She felt relief knowing that the town no longer hated her, but deep down she knew that only one opinion mattered, the opinion of her husband. And that one had never changed.

  They knew there was a lot of work to be done, but they still took the time to share a kiss as the sweet warmth of the morning sun emerged on the horizon.

  EPILOGUE

  Calico Junction, California

  November

  The house was filled with warmth and the fragrant aroma of rabbit stew brewing in the kitchen. Even though Carolyn had learned to love cooking, she still adored these brisk fall nights when Bailey took over the duties in the kitchen and prepared a hot meal. She’d never admit it, but she secretly believed that he was the better cook between the two of them.

  It would be time for supper soon, which meant it would be time to wake the boys from their nap and bring them downstairs for supper. But before she did, she wanted to write this letter to her parents. She had been meaning to do so all week, but raising twin boys kept her busy, too busy to write letters.

  She settled into her desk and reached for the paper and pen, then she began.

  Dear Mother and Father,

  She sat back and took a deep breath. She still hadn’t entirely gotten used to writing letters to her parents. After so many years of silence, it felt surreal to be communicating with dignity and affection.

  The relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Claridge had changed the year prior, when Carolyn had taken a chance and written a letter to inform her parents of the good news that she and Bailey had recently welcomed twin sons, named William and Beckett.

  The Claridges had proved themselves to be cold and distant as parents to Carolyn growing up, but they found a second chance as grandparents. It was a role they eagerly assumed, and they promptly chartered a private stagecoach to bring them to Calico Junction for a visit.

  The reunion was sweet. Despite all the odds, they softened to Bailey and accepted him as their own. And though the lingering tensions of the past weren’t entirely gone, the visit was a happy one. The Claridges adored their grandsons, and they seemed to have a new appreciation for their daughter, as well.

  Carolyn remembered that visit as she brought pen to paper, wondering what she would write. Before she could scrawl another word, there was a knock at the door.

  Carolyn turned in her seat and saw Bailey standing in the doorway.

  “Supper is ready,” he said. “I even made yeast rolls.”

  Carolyn smiled and set down the pen. The letter would have to wait until tomorrow. Then she danced across the room and fell into her husband’s arms, finding comfort in his embrace.

  Life was perfect, and Carolyn finally knew what it meant to feel in love and at peace with all things.

  THE END

  4. THE DISHONEST Bride

  Copyright © Hope Sinclair 2018

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review.

  This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  For queries, comments or feedback please use the following contact details:

  hopesinclair.cleanandwholesomeromance.com

  info@cleanandwholesomeromance

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  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ONE

  “Look up ahead, Father,” Grace gasped. “Something quite interesting is going on… It appears to be a celebration of some sort, perhaps a fair or festival.”

  Alexander Morrison leaned forward ever so slightly and glanced out the open window of his covered carriage. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed as he leaned back in his seat. “Who knows what’s going on over there,” he said indifferently. “And, frankly, who cares?”

  Obviously, Grace cared, even though she didn’t say as much. She couldn’t keep her eyes, or mind, off of what she saw in the distance. In fact, she’d been paying so much attention to the festive gathering that she hadn’t even heard her father’s apathetic reply.

  “We should go,” Grace smiled, turning to look at her father. She was grinning from ear to ear, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. But her father was just as indifferent to her beauty and enthusiasm as he’d been to what he saw outside.

  “We should tell the driver to stop up ahead, and go over and join the celebration,” Grace went on. “It looks like it’d be great fun—and, I’m sure we’d be warmly received.”