Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset

by Maxine Douglas

  He shoved the list back into a pocket and moved with Spade. Gabe wasn’t in any hurry to be back home, and he didn’t rightly know why. Abby’s list of chores for him had grown the longer he hung around. She cast about orders as if she was running a big house rather than their ramshackle little cabin. He felt more like a servant than her husband until supper was served…and they’d retired to bed.

  He’d held her in their bed for the first time in weeks. No rocking of the wagon in the wind. No critters scurrying under them. It was just the two of them, alone. Holding each other. Loving each other. Abby had a way that made him feel things he’d never felt before with any other woman. Even now his body reacted to the memory of the night. Damn but the woman was a marvel in so many ways.

  The way Abby had the table ready for their unexpected guest the day of their arrival sent a surge of pride through him. And her reception of Bass Reeves sharing biscuits and coffee with them was a miracle. Why should he consider it a miracle? Abby was from the North where there weren’t slaves working the fields or ushering people about in the big houses. She accepted people for who they were. Just one more thing for him to admit to in his admiration of his wife—Abby was everything he could have hoped for and more.

  Abby had a good heart, a kind heart. A sense of respectability. A kindness he’d not felt since the War Between the States had begun. Before every man with a gun was regarded with suspicion. Before men, like himself, set out to tame the west. At least here in Indian Territory civilization was slow to put her boots on the ground. If only it would remain so.

  Now if Cook’s had what was on his list, he could go back home to Abby with a smile on his face and a grumble in his voice as to the toll the weight of the sacks of flour and cornmeal took on Spade’s back. No sense in making her think he was happy to do her bidding, which of course he was.

  Despite himself, a grin spread across Gabe’s face and he chuckled. “Admit you love doing for her,” he muttered, reining up to the hitching post in front of Cook’s.

  “Hey, Walter!” Gabe tied off Spade then slid the supply list from his pocket before walking into Cook’s. “Abby’s got a list a mile long here. I don’t suppose you have ‘fancy plums’ by chance?”

  Walter’s throaty laugh was all the answer Gabe needed. “Not rightly, but reckon I can put in a request next time the wagon comes through. Course, not sure how good they’d be by the time they arrived.”

  “Hmmm. Well, let’s do the best we can then.” Gabe handed over the list then rocked back on his heels as Walter began gathering Abby’s items. The store hadn’t changed since they’d arrived a few days before. Why would it? No supply wagon had come through during the night. Only the sounds of night creatures outside their window and on their roof.

  “Did Marshal Reeves come by?” Walter placed a slab of salt pork on the counter, then crossed the item off.

  “A few days after we’d arrived. I nearly blew his head off, the man snuck up on me by the riverbed.” Gabe laughed, remembering how he’d clamored for his sense of mind.

  “He’s good at that.” Walter moved from shelf to shelf, gathering items in a neat pile. “I sent word as soon as I seen your wagon coming down the trail. Good thing he was in the area. Been huntin’ down some members of the Jesse Evans gang.”

  “There a big problem down here with outlaws?” Gabe walked over to a window, peering out over the vast, empty land. Not a soul in sight.

  “All I have is a one-pound sack of cornmeal.” Walter put the sack on the counter then reached for another item. “Them outlaws make a trail between here and Mexico, thinkin’ the long arm of the law don’t come this far. But Marshal Reeves, he finds ’em and takes ’em in alive to be judged.”

  “That’ll do until you get the next shipment in.” Gabe turned from the window, running a hand through his hair. He thought of the streets of Dodge where a gunfight took place where everyone could see it. Out here, danger lurked behind every bush or down a river bend. “Could be why Parker sent me down here then; one more badge can’t hurt.”

  “The cowpokes raise hell once in a while if they stop for a bit. There’s been more cattle rustlin’.”

  Gabe grew nervous thinking of Abby alone in the cabin. “Is my wife safe at home?” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath to calm the rush of anxiety threatening to take hold of his common sense.

  “Millie’s been up at our place with the youngin’ most times alone. Once in a while I bring Charlie here if she’s got it in her mind she needs peace. Like today, she had a pot of maple beans and ham cooking for y’all.” Walter began figuring the bill for Gabe’s purchases, then packed what he could into an old flour sack. “Do you have children, Hawkins?”

  “No.” Gabe’s heart bottomed out; children were never a consideration. “In my line of work, it’s dangerous enough to take on a wife, but having children…”

  Walter smiled, pride filling his eyes. “Children are an extension of you and your wife. They are the thread to keeping your legacy alive when you’re gone. Charlie, come on out here and say howdy to Marshal Hawkins.”

  Gabe looked at the dark-haired boy of no more than seven or eight with eyes as blue as the sky who came out from behind the curtain. His smile was big as he walked over to Gabe and shook his hand.

  “Marshal Hawkins, nice to meet you.” Charlie stood straight, his hand tight around Gabe’s.

  “Charlie.” Gabe nodded, his stomach flipping like a boulder down the side of a mountain. “I hope you come and meet Mrs. Hawkins; she’d be mighty happy to see you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said then went back behind the curtain.

  Walter picked up the flour sack filled with provisions, handing it over to Gabe. “As soon as a new shipment comes in, I’ll have more cornmeal.”

  “What do I owe you?” Gabe slung the sack over his shoulder then gathered the smaller one that held the meal and flour.

  “Twenty-five dollars. You can settle up with me in a few days.” Walter walked alongside Gabe.

  Gabe tied the two sacks on either side of his saddlebag, then took up the reins in his hand. “See you in a few days then. Nice boy you’ve got there.” Gabe rode away realizing that his perfect family was missing something…or someone.

  Abby sat down on the stoop of the porch, the housework waiting for her inside forgotten. There were biscuits to be made to go along with the beans and ham warming on the stove. The pantry needed to be organized for the provisions Gabe had gone to the trading post for. The tattered curtains needed to be mended and washed.

  The baby’s room needed to be scrubbed and… She knew nothing of taking care of a baby. Abby could manage a large household of servants, but when it came to a baby, the thought of being responsible for a helpless human being scared the daylights out of her.

  And worried her.

  Would she be a good mother? A loving mother? What if she forgot to feed the child? What if the baby got sick? Who would care for it? Where was the nearest doctor? What if she lost her child and her heart?

  “Oh goodness, I don’t know how to give birth. What if I hurt my baby? Who will help me bring the little one into the world? Certainly not Gabe!” Millie’s face perched itself in Abby’s mind, a smile on her face. “Yes, of course, Millie will know what to do.”

  She drew in a breath of relief and watched the road leading to the trading post for Gabe to come back home. How was she going to tell him his new wife was carrying his child? A sweet, innocent baby neither of them gave a thought to creating when they’d lain with each other.

  What if Gabe sent her away?

  “Lord, thank you for this blessing.” Abby laid a hand gently on her abdomen where a life grew inside. “Please guide Gabe into seeing our child as such—a blessing of love.”

  Looking down the road one last time, she rose, dusted her hands down the apron, then strolled back into the cabin. She drifted past the table where she’d had coffee with Millie not long ago. Past the fireplace and chairs where she and Gabe had e
aten warm applesauce after a late supper last night. Past the door to the room where Gabe held her last night, loving her fully and completely.

  Abby padded with hesitation into the next doorway, pausing after crossing the threshold where children had once slept. The room where her baby would sleep.

  Gabe’s baby.

  Their baby.

  Abby swiped at the tears threatening to burst from her eyes. She smiled then moved further into the empty room and made a trek around the parameter. “Well, little one, your mama has some work to do before you arrive. And your papa will build you a fine crib to sleep in.”

  “Crib?” Gabe’s sudden question stabbed at her heart as she felt his hands settle on her shoulders, turning her until she faced him.

  The fear in her heart gave way to something close to unconditional love. Something she’d not felt until that moment, looking in Gabe’s eyes. Eyes filled with questions, not anger.

  She smiled, nodding “Yes, a crib.”

  “When? How?” Gabe’s face reflected the shock she’d felt when her pregnancy was realized.

  Abby laughed. “As to the when, I’d say somewhere between Dodge City and here. As to the how…” Abby felt her cheeks warm, remembering the way Gabe made love to her. His hands skimming slowly over her, igniting her skin through and through.

  Gabe gathered her into his arms, holding her close for a moment. She gazed up into his eyes where unbelievable, impossible truth quickly turned the seed of joy into a dying sprout. He let her go and a cold blanket enveloped her.

  “How are we going to provide for a baby when come winter we may barely be able feed ourselves? Abby we are out in the middle of nowhere. There is not a doctor around the corner. No way to get medicine if needed.” Gabe paced the room then pushed past her and out the cabin door.

  Abby’s stomach took a tumble. Her hands quivered. Stinging tears of sadness welled up in her eyes as she fought to hold them back. She watched Gabe stomp back in, carrying the items from Cook’s in his arms, then unceremoniously dumping the flour sacks onto the table.

  Gabe pulled item after item out of the sacks. “This isn’t half of what was on that list of yours.” Gabe ran his hands through his hair, his face scrunched with concern. “How am I to feed my family when what is needed isn’t readily available?”

  “Have faith, Gabe. We’ll survive out here as Millie and Walter Cook have. Our love and faith will guide us.” Slowly, Abby reached out, her hand lightly touching his arm. When he shrugged away from her the sting of his rejection burned her heart. Abby bit back a whimper and took to sorting through the provisions scattered across the table, her mind reeling.

  Give him a minute and then he’ll come to terms with being a papa. He’s in shock, nothing more. He’s not going to reject…but what if he does? What if he doesn’t want me or our baby? Nonsense! Pure nonsense.

  Abby walked over to the stove, stirring the beans and ham for a few minutes. She listened as her husband wore a path across the floor from the table to the fireplace. Grabbing a bowl, she measured out the ingredients for the biscuit batter. She glanced up from her mixing when the pacing stopped. Gabe stood next to the fireplace, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Would it really be so bad? Having a child?” Her fingers working the dough, hope filled her heart.

  “At our age?” Gabe pondered, hands against the mantel of the fireplace. He shuffled his feet in the soot on the hearth from last night’s fire. “We’ll be too old to keep the boy out of trouble. And what would happen to the two of you if I was killed? Who will be here to provide and protect you both?”

  So that’s it! He’s worried about his family. His little boy. His responsibility and pride. Abby smiled, spooning out the dough. “Well, that’s something to think about when the time comes. And believe me, Gabriel Hawkins, I am not ready to give you up yet!”

  “One day you may not have a choice. One day an outlaw may decide to shoot a marshal for no good reason.”

  Abby looked up at the sound of the front door closing, then watched as Gabe rode away.

  7

  Gabe rode hard and fast, giving Spade his head. He rode blindly, not knowing or caring where he was as long as it was away from talk of a baby. Specifically, the responsibility of a baby.

  After the war, all he thought he’d wanted was a comfortable life alone. Then he witnessed what love could do for a man and took a risk by placing an advertisement for a wife. Abby came into his life like a new promise. He didn’t want to leave a fatherless child behind, nor leave Abby as a widow. That wore on his heart more than anything. Now that she had firmly planted herself there, he’d do anything to protect her.

  Instead he was on the verge of abandoning Abby and their unborn child. If he kept riding out, he’d be far from them. Far from feeling the pain of losing a child. A wife. Love. Family.

  Was he really that man?

  “Whoa.” Gabe gently pulled on the leather in his hands. Reining Spade in, he noticed the white foam of sweat on the horse’s neck for the first time. Sliding out of the saddle, he grabbed a canteen from a saddlebag and came up his horse’s nose.

  “Sorry, boy,” he said, pouring water into a cupped hand, allowing Spade to slurp from it. “At least you got to stretch your legs out. And I got to be your behind.”

  When had he ever run from anything? Even when his parents told him to leave, he hadn’t, at least not right away. He’d tried everything from prayer to crying and begging at his father’s feet to forgive him for not protecting his younger brother. Gabe stayed, hoping his parents would get past their grief until it became abundantly clear he was unwelcome and dead in their eyes…and hearts. They had no more love for him. Defeated, he’d ventured out west to tame its wildness as a lawman. To look death in the eye and dare it to take his life.

  But Abby is different. Abby had nothing but love in her eyes. In her heart. And it was all for him…and their unborn child. Why was he running away when he should be running into her arms, smothering her with kisses? Hold her tight, as if his life depended on it.

  Gabe brushed the crust from his horse’s coat where the heat of the evening breeze had begun to dry the sweat. On the western horizon, the bright orange sun sat in the sky in hues of red and pink. A time for reflection of his fears, of really giving his heart without question.

  You’re a damn fool, Hawkins! You left your pregnant wife because you don’t want to deal with the possibility of heartache. Abby doesn’t deserve to be treated like some saloon girl. She’s YOUR wife. The woman you LOVE and she is having a baby! YOUR baby! The voice of reason scolded him, over and over again, until finally the realization of what he’d done hit him like a bullet to the heart.

  “A baby! Abby is having my baby!” Gabe did a gig then hooted as loud as he could, so anyone within hearing distance could hear him. “I’m going to be a papa!”

  Pouring more water into his hand, he stroked Spade’s long sleek neck. “I’ve done something wrong, boy, horribly wrong. Taken the coward’s way out.”

  Gabe shoved the canteen back into a saddlebag then mounted his horse and turned him south on the trail. Tapping his heels into the horse’s side, Gabe urged him into a jog. He needed to get home before the love of his life grew frantic.

  Love? Yes, I do love her and will till the day I die and beyond. And I’ll love any child that comes from it.

  If there was anything he knew, it was that he had to either get back to Abby or find a place to bed down for the night. The latter wasn’t an option in his mind. Gabe buried his heels into Spade, sending him off at a lope. The ground flew under him as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

  The gray dusk gave way to the coming darkness of the night. Gabe slowed the black horse to a walk as the road in front of him blended into the ground. Even with the full moon and cloudless night, the promise of little light made him cautious. No sense ruining a fine horse due to carelessness.

  The aroma of a campfire reached his senses before Gabe saw it burning. App
roaching slow and easy, dried brush crunching under his boots, he recognized the snow-white gelding belonging to the man putting a coffee pot over the fire—Bass Reeves.

  “Hawkins, what brings you out here?” Reeves asked without looking up. Instead he reached for another cup, filling it with the steaming brew.

  “And here I thought I was being quiet.” Gabe loosened the cinch of his saddle then tied Spade next to the white horse. A stunning contrast— the black and white standing next to each other in peace.

  “Tried too hard.” Reeves handed Gabe the warm cup, the rich aroma filling his senses.

  “Thanks.” Gabe sat, drinking the brew, thankful for the warming it provided flowing to his belly.

  “What brings you out?” Reeves poked the fire, stirring the embers into the air a few inches like little fire bugs.

  Gabe thought for a moment. How much should he tell the U.S. Marshal? Should he reveal he ran from his wife because he was afraid to be a papa?

  “Speak plainly, Hawkins. There’s no one out here but the two of us.”

  “Do you have any children, Reeves?”

  Reeves looked up at him through the smoke. “Yes, sir. Mighty proud of my youngin’s.”

  “How do you handle it? Your wife—”

  “My Nellie loves our babies, and me when I can make it home. Being a family man is hard on a marshal. The rewards outweigh the danger. I keep my family and your family safe, as well as the people in this territory. Isn’t that why you became a lawman, Hawkins? To keep others safe? To ensure your loved ones are safe?”

  “Yes, sir, I reckon when it comes right down to it.”

  “Then I suggest you get yourself back to your lovely wife, as she must be concerned. Just head on down the trail five miles and you’ll be there.”

  Gabe stood, tossing the rest of his coffee into a bush. “I think I’ll do just that, Reeves.”

  Gabe walked over to Spade, tightening the cinch around his belly. When he looked up, he stared into a pair of dark eyes.