Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset

by Maxine Douglas

  “Yes, sir, would you like a room?”

  “No, I’m looking for Logan Granger.” Gabe answered, watching the clerk open the guest register. “He might be registered.”

  The clerk ran the tip of a finger down the hotel register once then twice. “Sorry, there isn’t a Granger checked in.”

  “He could have come in with the private stage earlier today,” Gabe volunteered hoping Logan had at least once come in sometime during the day.

  “Oh, yes, well, that party is in the dining room, waiting on fresh horses.” The clerk pointed to a room that appeared to be empty. “Dinner begins service at six o’clock.”

  “Thank you.” Gabe walked through the doorway scanning the tables as he entered. In a back corner sat a well-dressed family, looking completely out of place and reeking of money. He knew instantly they had to be the Manchesters. Looking further around the room, sitting at a table near the window was his old friend—Logan Granger.

  Abby mentally checked off the few items on her list. In truth, she could have waited for Walter to bring them in a day or two, but since she was going, Abby didn’t want to leave the post empty-handed. Placing the final item on the counter, Abby looked over the smaller pieces of material she could fashion into baby clothes or diapers. There were several pieces big and heavy enough she could make into window curtains once the weather turned colder.

  “Miss Abby!” Charlie skipped out from the back room where Millie was helping Walter take inventory of their supplies. “Mama said she needs you.”

  He took her hand in his small one, pulling Abby with a child’s excitement. “Hurry Miss Abby,” he urged, pulling with both hands now.

  “All right, Charlie.” Abby laughed matching her steps to the stride of a seven-year-old.

  “Mama, here’s Miss Abby.” Charlie announced his eyes bright with a secret, and his little chest puffed out. “I fetched her just like you asked.”

  “Goodness, Charlie, you’ll pull Miss Abby’s arm right off if you aren’t careful.” Walter chided his young son while trying to hide the smile on his face. “You did a fine job, son. Remember next time that you should treat girls and ladies gently. They ain’t as tough as us men can be.”

  “Yes, Papa,” Charlie replied looking up to Walter with nothing less than admiration.

  “I’m fine, Walter. He’s excited about helping out is all.” Abby smiled down at the dark-haired boy squashing the urge to ruffle the wild waves. “Now, what is so important that Charlie had to rush me in here?”

  “Charlie, why don’t you come out front with me?” Walter placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, guiding him out of the storeroom. “I think there might be a peppermint if you help with me Miss Abby’s purchases.”

  Abby giggled as Charlie ran to the counter, leaving his papa behind. “I surely do hope Gabe’s as kind with our child as Walter is with Charlie. That boy really looks up to his father.”

  “Oh, don’t let that kind-hearted man fool you. The boy gets punished when needed, so don’t let Walter’s show of softness lead you to believe otherwise,” Millie said putting away the ledgers she’d been going over. “Extra chores always seem to do the trick when he’s taken the wrong path.”

  “Hard work keeps young idle hands busy, that is true,” Abby said, smoothing back her perfectly pinned hair. She paced around the back room taking in the small desk where Millie sat and the safe settled under a back table. Extra supplies were stacked on the shelves and floor to replenish any empty spots in the post.

  “I’ve finished with my shopping.” Abby sat in a chair in front of the desk. Her swollen belly perched in her lap, the baby grew restless. “Oh, he’s busy in there today. Some days it feels like he’s running in the fields while others are quiet as a Sunday morning in church.”

  “Abby” Millie looked as if she’d just swallowed a spoonful of tonic, “Walter feels it would be better for you to stay with us for a while. I sure would enjoy your company.”

  Stunned, Abby reached over giving her friend’s hand a squeeze. “It’s a kind offer Millie, but—”

  “It would only be until Gabe comes back, is all,” Millie said quietly, a faint look of hope in her eyes.

  Abby ran a hand over the spot where the baby kicked in protest. “I can’t, Millie. The mules and chickens need to be tended to. And there’s much needing to be done before the baby comes. I appreciate Walter’s concern and kind offer. As much as I would love being so close to you, I think I should stay in my own home.”

  Millie smiled, dismay skirting her eyes. “I told him you’d say that, but I did have to ask.”

  Abby stood slowly, letting the weight of the baby adjust inside her before stepping around the chair. “You and Walter are good friends, family really, and I thank you both. Gabe will be in agreement when I tell him of your generous offer,”

  “Even if he chides you for not accepting,” Millie teased looping an arm into the crux of Abby’s elbow.

  “Even then,” Abby laughed. “Now, let’s go see what your men are up to, shall we?”

  They strolled to the front of the trading post where Charlie sat peering out the window on his knees. Millie joined her son, taking a hold of an arm and pulling him from his spying position.

  “Papa told me to get inside when them two men rode up, Mama,” Charlie whispered.

  “It’s okay, Charlie. Go to the back and play until I come to take you home,” Millie told her son in that soothing voice of an experienced mother.

  Abby watched as the boy trudged to the back, then turned her attention to window. From her point of view, Walter seemed stressed and a bit nervous the way his hands fidgeted with the edge of his vest. She couldn’t get a clear look at the two other men. “What’s going on, Millie?”

  “I don’t know. Walter’s never sent him inside before,” Millie said just above a whisper.

  Abby glanced out the window as one of the men gave Walter a shove. The situation outside wasn’t a friendly one. It was one that alarmed and worried her.

  Walter came up the step and into the trading post, the two men close behind. From the strained look on his face, Abby knew something was terribly wrong.

  “Help yourself to whatever supplies you need,” Walter offered, his gaze never wavering from Millie.

  “Well, looky here, Billy. He’s got hisself two women and one with child at that.” The one in the gray shirt that hadn’t seen a washtub in months spoke through a tobacco-stained grin. “We could have ourselves a party afore Jesse gets here.”

  “Shut up, Tom!” The one called Billy hissed the words, his black eyes darting around the room. “Where’s the boy?”

  “That boy can’t hurt you,” Abby said, the hackles on her neck prickling. Charlie may not be her son, but she wasn’t about to let these two men scare her. Millie stood at the end of the counter blocking the path to her boy while Walter moved slowly behind her. Heat flushed through Abby with the knowledge Walter kept a rifle back there, but how long had it been since he’d actually used it? If he was going to use it, she hoped his aim was true.

  “No, but he could run out and get the law,” Billy remarked, pushing his way past Millie and into the back room. “There’s no back door and one window he’d have to climb up to get out of, Tom.”

  “Good, now which one of you fine-lookin’ women is gonna cook us something to eat?” Tom quipped, his dull and lifeless eyes focused on Millie’s bodice. “I ain’t had good food for a long time.”

  “I will.” Abby moved about gathering a few cans of meat and several potatoes, maintaining eye contact with the filthy man. “Where do you suggest I cook?”

  Walter stepped out from behind the counter and over to the potbelly stove. Grabbing several sticks of wood, he popped them into the fire pot. Millie was grabbing beans, bacon, and flour from the shelves, biting her bottom lip and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

  While Millie mixed her ingredients into a pot, Abby peeled the potatoes. She guessed the men they were cooking for were
members of the outlaws Gabe was looking for on the stage trail. Instead part of the Jesse Evans Gang loomed in Cook’s Trading Post like nobody’s business.

  11

  “What are you doing here?” Gabe stood in front of Logan. “You should be back in Dodge with Rose.”

  “Nice to see you too,” Logan replied motioning for Gabe to take a seat. “Pinkerton business. Manchester hired an agent to take them from Dodge City to Texas. I got the assignment once they rolled in on the train.”

  “Then you know—”

  “That the Jesse Evans Gang is looking for them?” Logan smirked then downed the coffee sitting in front of him.

  The tension in Gabe’s shoulders lessened slightly with relief of that knowledge. At least Logan knew what he may be facing, and from the looks of the Manchesters they all would have their hands full.

  “How’s Abby?” Logan asked, filling the cup.

  “Healthy and happy, I think. The baby is growing and so are Abby’s moods.” Gabe smiled, the warmth of love filling his heart. As much as the mood swings frustrated him, Gabe wouldn’t change anything about Abby. She and the baby had become his reason for living a full life.

  Logan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with fatherly knowledge. “It will get better after the baby comes. Until then do what she asks, don’t ask questions, and you’ll find a peaceful household.”

  Gabe nodded, “If only I’d had that advice before I told her not to leave the cabin.”

  “Ha, if she’s anything like Rose she’ll do the opposite!” Logan shook his head.

  “Probably. She knows the danger though. I’m counting on her common sense to keep her safe.” The image of Abby standing on the porch with tears in her eyes flooded his mind. He’d do whatever it took to see the smile back in them.

  “Are they ready to leave?” Gabe nodded toward the family huddled in the back corner. “I didn’t realize there were two children traveling as well. I hope they are well aware of the dangers along the trail.”

  “They are—at least as far as the stable. There’s another stage coming through that they’ll take to Texas and it won’t be the one we’ll be on.” Logan looked up at the shadow cast over Gabe, his face etched in admiration.

  Gabe smiled at the expression on his friend’s face. There’s only one person here in Silver City who could impress Logan. “Logan Granger, meet Deputy U.S. Marshal Bass Reeves.”

  Logan stood, extending a hand to the marshal. “Marshal, pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Detective, I understand you’re the best in the area.” Bass shook Logan’s hand then pulled out a chair, sitting between Gabe and Logan. “You come highly recommended by Mr. Pinkerton himself. Gabe and I can use another experienced gun. This gang is known to be violent with their victims.”

  Gabe watched the look on Logan’s face go from pride to worry to determination. Gabe knew how Bass did things even if he did question the marshal’s motives from time-to-time. No doubt this would be no different.

  “A telegram came earlier this morning from headquarters.” Logan reached into his inside vest pocket, pulling out the folded telegram.

  Bass took the missive, read it, then patted Gabe on the shoulder. “I’ll be at the stable making sure the stagecoach is ready to travel. Have that family ready to leave immediately.”

  Gabe watched Bass walk out the door as if on a leisurely Sunday stroll. “So, what’s the plan, Logan?”

  “Other than the real family staying here and us sitting like sitting ducks, I haven’t the faintest. It’s not my call. I was told to follow whatever orders Reeves gave.” Logan replied, nudging Gabe in the chest. “The telegram carried a bit of news I wasn’t counting on.”

  “I think it’s time I had a long talk with a certain deputy U.S. marshal,” Gabe pushed away from the table and with anger in check he walked out the door.

  While Logan went about getting the Manchesters ready for departure, Gabe mounted his horse and rode over to the stable. If this plan was going to work, he needed to know exactly what it was and if leaving his very pregnant wife to ride along with Bass was really justified…duty or not.

  “Bass, mind telling me what is going on?” Gabe demanded, the reins grasped tightly in his fingers.

  Bass was walking around the stagecoach inspecting the wheels and horses as they were hitched up. “Other than the fact that there’s a report the Evans Gang has split up and my original plan is destroyed—”

  “What do you mean, split up?” Spade’s head jerked up when Gabe squeezed the reins in his hand. Looping the leather straps over a stall door, he flexed his fingers, releasing some of the tension. Gritting his teeth, Gabe moved close enough to Bass that he could feel him breathing. “Where the hell are they?”

  “A couple of members headed toward Fred, while Jesse and the rest of the gang are spread out,” Bass said softly.

  Gabe reached out spinning Bass around to face him. “They are in Fred!”

  “They were headed that way. Gabe, I have my scout out and—”

  Gabe turned at the sound of children’s giggles behind him. Standing in the stable doorway were the Manchesters dressed in their best travel clothes. Logan stood with the family, which was prepared to board the stagecoach.

  “Sorry, folks, a change is necessary. We’ll be traveling in one coach,” Bass informed the passengers. “I know it’s not what you expected, but you’ll all be safer this way. I’ve already had your trunks loaded. Other than a few items for Mrs. Manchester and the children, your bags will be put in the rear boot.

  Gabe helped the family get settled inside. Thoughts of the elevated danger surrounding his wife and unborn child at the center of his mind. He had to get to Fred before the members of the gang did.

  “Keep inside the coach no matter what happens. The trail may be a bit rough in places, so you may bounce around some. Once we arrive in Fred—” Gabe told the family they’d get a hot meal and a place to rest while the horses were switched out. The children sat on opposite sides of the coach next to a parent holding their favorite toy, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the lurking danger.

  The coach rocked slightly as the driver and Logan stepped up into the driver’s box. Bass brought up Spade and once Gabe mounted, they all headed south out of town.

  Please Lord, keep these fine people safe. Guide our hands in time of need. And keep my family safe from harm so that I might be with my wife and child through the years. Gabe prayed.

  “Best damn meal I’ve had in a while,” Billy said with his mouth full, giving Abby a pat on her bottom as she spooned more of the slop onto the outlaw’s plate. “Where’s your man anyways?”

  Abby cringed with disgust at the stained toothy grin, “I would be much obliged if you kept your hands to yourself. And where my husband is, is no concern of yours. He’s not here that’s all you need to know,” she spat, stomping back to the stove.

  “You ain’t got no call to lay your hands on the women. They done nothing but you put food in your stomachs.” Walter said from behind the counter, keeping his family tucked safely behind him. “We’re God-fearin’ people. Now take what you need and get on with your journey. I don’t want no trouble here.”

  “Well, listen to that, will ya. The man does have a pair after all.” Tom got up from the makeshift table of a board atop a barrel of pickles, pulling his gun from the holster. “Let’s see if he can dance his way around this here floor, shall we?”

  The sound of horses approaching drew Tom’s attention from Walter to the window. As the outlaw holstered his pistol, Walter shooed Charlie and Millie into the backroom.

  “Jesse’s here,” Tom announced, disappointment edging his craggy face. “Fun’s over—for now.” He sneered at Abby, damn near licking his chops at her. “Boss will be happy to see some purty faces.”

  The smile on the man’s face sent a shiver up Abby’s spine. Where was Gabe? He had to be coming by now. Unless…

  Jesse Evans walked in the door with two other men trailing beh
ind. “Boys, we have a situation. There’s a Pinkerton and a marshal riding with that stagecoach. Taking it ain’t gonna be as easy as I first thought. Didn’t count on the dandy hiring a Pinkerton nor Reeves riding shotgun alongside.”

  “Hell, Jesse, we can take care of them two!” Billy said standing proud and tall with his chest puffed out like a rooster in a hen house. Tom shoved the last of his food into his mouth seeming oblivious to the other men.

  “Well, now, Billy, that may be true. The problem here is that Reeves is riding with them. And in these parts the Creek is his family.” Jesse scoured the trading post, his gaze landing on Abby’s face then skirted down to her belly where the baby was kicking up a storm.

  “Sorry, ma’am, I hope my boys have been treating you kindly,” Jesse said, tipping his hat. “Sometimes I do wonder where their manners have gone.”

  Abby snorted, her spine ridged and the pot of ham and beans still in her hand. “They could use some manners that’s for sure. Their mamas would be ashamed of them!”

  Billy took two steps toward her, his gun drawn, mouth turned down and eyes as cold as a winter’s night. Jesse stuck out his arm, blocking any further advance.

  “You are a spirited one at that. The lady is right, Billy, and you know it.” Jesse waved his man off toward the window his tone controlled offering no room of discussion. “Now go sit down and keep watch out that window. We will wait here for the rest of the boys to bring that stage and its riches to us.”

  Tom looked up from his empty plate as if realizing for the first time their leader was there. “Where’s the rest of the boys?”

  “Watching the trail and hoping to get a clear shot at the lawmen before the stage arrives,” Jesse answered, surveying the room. It was at that time Charlie could be heard arguing with Millie in the back.