Several hours later Abby woke from what could only be described as a nightmare. Gunfire. Outlaws. Gabe being shot. And her falling to the ground on her side.
“My baby!” Panic raced through her heart and soul, remembering her hard fall to the ground as shots were fired.
“Ohhh,” she mewed in relief, placing a hand over her belly where the baby moved, letting her know he was still there.
“Stay quiet, Abby,” Gabe coaxed, his hand giving hers a light squeeze. “Doc says you need bedrest for a few days.”
“You, you were shot!” Abby whispered, a tear slipping out of her eye.
“It was nothing compared to thinking you and the baby were hurt.” Gabe leaned in, kissing her on the forehead, brushing several wisps of hair back. “Once the rush left my body and I knew you were safe, I let go. Logan and Bass got you into bed, while Dr. Manchester treated my leg. The bullet went clear through and missed the bone and artery.”
“Logan? Logan is here?” The words pitched high enough for the angels to hear.
“Logan was the Pinkerton assigned to escort the Manchesters from Dodge to Texas. As it turns out, Douglas Manchester is a doctor who has decided to stay in Fred rather than travel further south. He said he wants to be where he’s needed the most. Evidently he believes it’s right here.” Gabe sat in a chair next to her, his left leg propped up on another.
“So, we have a doctor now for when the baby comes?” Abby’s eyes widened in delight. “That’s wonderful. Are you sure he’s staying though?”
“I sure am. And I’ve given specific orders that you are to rest.” Dr. Manchester towered over her, his face gentle and kind with a twinkle in his eye.
Abby took an instant liking to the man. He had an easygoing manner even as he stood at the end of her bed, assessing her with his gaze.
“By my examination and after a long talk with your husband, I believe you may have the baby a little earlier than you thought,” Dr. Manchester informed her, his grin spreading across his face.
“No, the babe’s not due for three months,” Abby insisted, fear exploding through her mind. “Is the baby okay?”
“Yes Abby, the doctor said the baby is fine despite the ordeal you’ve gone through the past few days,” Gabe assured, his face worn from worry and pain.
Dr. Manchester picked up her wrist, checking her pulse. “Mrs. Hawkins, you have miscalculated your pregnancy by a few weeks. And given what you’ve experienced, if the baby comes early—”
“Comes early? Why would the baby come early?” Abby bit her lower lip and took a few deep breaths to calm herself.
“He won’t if you do exactly as the doc here says. No more laundry or lifting even a pound of flour, Abby,” Gabe ordered gently.
Dr. Manchester laughed. “That may be a bit extreme, Mr. Hawkins. I’m not suggesting the baby isn’t healthy. On the contrary, it is very active and doesn’t appear to be in any distress. Babies come when they are ready to take on the world; yours will be no different. I only want you to stay in bed for a week. Give your mind and body time to heal.” Dr. Manchester patted her on the hand, winked, then left the room.
Relief surged through Abby. She looked over at Gabe, catching a glimmer of tears in his eyes.
“I’ll do whatever I need to for our baby…and my husband,” she promised.
Gabe broke down sobbing, tears running down over his face. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I put both you and the baby in danger by leaving. I broke my promise to always protect you. My parents were right. I’m broken as a man.”
“No, Gabe. You did what you needed to do as a lawman,” Abby reminded him.
“But I’m a broken man, Abby. Don’t you see that?”
“What I see is a man I love beyond life itself. Gabe, we are all broken until we find the right pieces to make us whole again.” Abby slowly moved his hand over to her belly, lacing her fingers with his as their baby squirmed under the protection of his mama and papa.
Epilogue
“How does it feel to finally have that little one in your arms, Abby?” Millie asked as she set a pot of stewed meat on the stove.
“Do I really have to explain that to you, Millie? You know what a blessing the little one has been.” Abby looked down at her baby sleeping peacefully against her breast, the round little face free of worry.
“We are thankful for both you and Walter for being here,” Gabe said, bringing in a bucket of milk with Charlie handling the basket of eggs with experience. “I couldn’t have handled listening to Abby screaming in pain if not for Walter taking me out behind the barn to cut more wood. I think we’ll have more than enough for the winter months and any repairs that may need to be done.”
Walter reached out, slapping Gabe on the shoulder. “If not for you, Gabe, some of us might not be here today. It could have been just you and Charlie.”
“Well, let’s not dwell on that right now, Walter. I think it’s time for us to go home and tend to our own family.” Millie took her husband’s arm and guided him out the door. “If you need anything, Abby, send Gabe and I’ll be right down.”
“I will,” Abby grinned, waving as their neighbors boarded their wagon and headed east down the road.
“You aren’t disappointed are you, Gabe?” Abby asked, moving slightly as the babe sleepily suckled milk.
Gabe sat next to her, his eyes bright with moisture. “Disappointed? Why in the world would I be disappointed, Abby? Our baby is healthy. Dr. Manchester said there’ll be no ill effects from the fall you took. That both you and baby are doing well.”
“Yes, I know, but you wanted…” Abby reached out for her husband, her lifeline to everything.
“A boy,” Gabe answered, no trace of disappointment in his eyes. “I got something more precious. Little Angela Marie Hawkins will be every bit like her mother. She’ll be a fine big sister to keep her little brother in line.”
Abby laughed, joy filling her heart. “So, you want to have another baby?”
Gabe drew her and their darling little girl into his arms. “I want as many babies as God is willing to give us.”
The End
Did you like this story? Please consider leaving a review on either Goodreads or the place where you bought it. Long or short, your review will help other readers discover new authors and make purchasing decisions!
Turn the page to read the next book in the Brides Along the Chisholm Trail series: The Cattleman’s Bride.
The Cattleman’s Bride
Brides Along the Chisholm Trail ~ Book 3
Maxine Douglas
About the Book
Suzanne Butler is saloon girl “Montana Sue” at the Lady Gay in Dodge City who has been hiding from an arranged marriage for over a year. Word has reached her that the man she spurred is on his way to Dodge City to reclaim her.
Cyrus Kennedy is a widowed Texas cattle baron, expected to deliver his cattle to the stockyard in Dodge City then make arrangements with a new housekeeper and tutor for his ten-year-old son. He didn’t expect a former feisty saloon girl would be going back to Texas with him.
Will Suzanne be able to shed “Montana Sue” and avoid an unwanted marriage? What will Cyrus’s men and his boy think when he brings the red-headed Suzanne Butler home with him along the Chisholm Trail?
To the men and women who endured the hardships along The Chisholm Trail. I hope they found their happiness on their journey.
To my husband, Randy, who is always ready to hit the trail on my next research adventure. I love you with all my heart.
And to my family and friends for their love and support as my mind weaves stories and listens to the voices stirring there.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Mark Rathe of the Chickasha Chamber of Commerce for giving me the idea for a Chisholm Trail series in celebration of its 150th Anniversary.
To Patricia Cunningham of the Grady County Historical Museum for lending a hand when I needed it.
To my favorite librarians at the Chickasha Public
Library for their undying assistance when I needed to find research! Chickasha is lucky to have you all there.
Author Note
While there may not have been a ranch near Proffitt, Texas (now a ghost town), I found it the perfect area for the Double K along the Brazos River.
Prologue
Dodge City
Late Spring 1877
Suzanne Butler scanned the sheet of paper in her hand again, barely aware of the townsfolk passing her on the wooden walkway in front of the mercantile, like river water parting around a boulder. She knew this day would come.
Darling Daughter,
I can no longer protect you, Suzanne. Your father and Regan Murray are gathering their provisions and will find a way to collect you. They pooled their resources when Father found you missing from Aunt Clara’s. They believe to have finally found you in Dodge City and will be on their way as soon as the mountain passes are clear enough to travel from Missoula Mills. Your father aims to bring you back home to marry that horrible man, Mr. Murray.
I will delay them for as long as I can, but you must run, Suzie, in any direction as far as any trail you choose will take you. Find a place where you are protected, and they won’t be able to bring you back. I fear if they do, you will be unhappy for the rest of your life, while your father, through his blind ambition, believes he will flourish when our two families are united, and our lands have expanded. I fear otherwise and that our family will be doomed at the hand of Mr. Murray.
I miss you, my darling, and am resolved that I may never see you again. Know that you are in my heart at all times.
With all my love,
Mother
Suzanne Butler read over the letter one last time, folded it, and tucked it into her skirt pocket. She knew the length of expense and deception her mother had gone to for so lengthy a missive. Slender fingers trembled as she pulled several coins from her reticule to pay for the telegram that she prayed would save her for a bit longer.
She’d been living in Dodge City for the past year, having escaped the unwanted marriage her father had arranged to take place on her next birthday. She was to marry the neighboring rancher, Regan Murray, on her twenty-first birthday. An embittered man who was cruel to animals and rumored to have killed his first wife, although there wasn’t proof of it. His beady, dark eyes had sent chills of warning through her from the first time she’d met him when Father introduced Mr. Murray as her betrothed.
With her mother’s help, Suzanne stole away from her Aunt Clara’s on the eve of her twenty-first birthday and what was to have been her wedding day. She arrived in Dodge City ragged, dirty, and tired, looking for work wherever she could get it. With her heart hardened and a new identity, she landed at the Lady Gay Saloon. Only once since arriving had she let her heart soften. When it had gotten stomped on, Suzanne had grown all the more bitter toward love or letting anyone close to her again.
With the arrival of mother’s letter several days earlier, Suzanne believed it had been God’s hand that kept her heart behind a wall. Now that Father and Mr. Murray were on their way, she wouldn’t have a husband to protect her.
She had no choice but to run again. So, first thing this morning Suzanne had headed toward the telegraph office with the only option she’d been able to surmise could give her more time.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Montana Sue?” Jake asked from his perch behind the counter. “There must be families here in Dodge you can work for.”
“None that would hire a former saloon girl, though.” Sue swiped at a tear in the corner of her eye. “Who here would believe that I have the ability to do everyday housework, let alone be a teacher to their children?”
“Everyone who knows you would vouch for you; you must know that.”
“I can’t entertain that idea, not after all that has happened. Besides, who’s going to believe a lot of cowpokes and gamblers?” Suzanne looked over the advertisement she’d written to The Dallas Weekly Herald one last time. “I have to do this, Jake. Dodge City doesn’t have a place for me anymore.”
“If that’s what you want to do, but it’s going to cost you some money. It would be less expensive for you to send it with the stagecoach.”
“No, it needs to get there quicker than that. The only way I know is to send it by telegram.” Suzanne slid the form across the telegraph office counter, any lingering apprehension gone. She’d taken Mother’s advice to find a trail leading her away from what would surely be a lifetime of unhappiness.
Jake reached for the paper and began tapping the words of her advertisement.
Educated woman seeks position on Texas ranch as children’s tutor and/or housekeeper. Stop. Immediate availability. Stop. Send letter of interest to SB, Dodge House, Dodge City, Kansas. Stop.
1
June 1877
The day was hot and dry when Cyrus Kennedy drove his herd into Dodge City, dirt and trail dust coating him from head to toe. He needed a bath, shave, and a good meal after he visited the Pinkerton agent assigned to his cattle rustling case. Then he’d get a room at the Dodge House and inquire about Miss Butler, the woman who was to become the keeper of not only his home but also his ten-year-old son Johnny.
Johnny needed a woman to look after him even if he was becoming a young man. A woman to give him the kind of attention and teaching Cyrus and his brothers couldn’t. There wasn’t much time on the ranch for book learning or keeping house. Johnny was starting to act and talk like a ranch hand. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Cyrus had made a promise to Maggie that their boy would grow to be a gentleman, not a roughneck.
Miss Suzanne Butler’s advertisement had come as a godsend, and he’d wasted no time in responding to it.
Cyrus dismounted, handing the reins to his older brother, Beau. “I’m heading over to the sheriff’s office to find Agent Granger. I’ll see you at supper after you get the cattle settled and make yourself presentable. I am hoping to have things settled with Miss Butler by then.”
Beau grumbled something about women and a bath then rode away with the Palomino trailing behind. Cyrus shook his head. Someday a woman is going to break that chunk of ice around his heart, and we’ll all be happier for it.
Cyrus ambled down the street to the sheriff’s office. Pushing open the door, he took measure of the sheriff’s feet on his desk with his eyes closed. “Sheriff, I’m looking for Logan Granger about some rustled cattle he found. Where might I find him?”
The young sheriff eyed Cyrus with speculation then spat into a nearby spittoon. “You’ll find him over at Dodge House.”
“Thanks.” Cyrus tipped his hat then walked out the door and across the street, shaking his head and thinking Dodge City was doomed if that was the man hired to protect her citizens. Slapping the dust from his clothes, as he stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of the Dodge House, his late wife’s words echoing through his head: Don’t you dare bring that trail dust into my house, Cyrus Kennedy!
Cyrus stepped through the doorway and over to the clerk behind the registration desk. “I was told I’d find Logan Granger here.”
“Yes, sir. He’s here.” The clerk pointed toward the dining room then returned to his ledgers.
“Mighty obliged.” Cyrus turned, spotting a man seated by the window, his head bowed over the papers scattered across the table. The man wore a string tie, white shirt, and black vest, looking more like a bartender at one of the establishments in town rather than one of the famed Pinkerton Agents.
“Agent Granger?”
“Who wants to know?” The man didn’t look up from the papers he studied, his posture stiff and uninviting. So much for being cordial.
“Cyrus Kennedy.”
Sitting back in his chair, the man looked up at Cyrus. “Kennedy, your cattle are being held at the stockyard. You can mix them with the herd you just brought in.”
Cyrus pulled out a chair at the table, not waiting to be asked to sit. “I appreciate you finding them. I’ll send payment to
Chicago as soon as I finish with my business here in Dodge City.”
Nodding, the agent gathered the scattered papers together. “Excuse my abruptness, Mr. Kennedy. I’ve got a case that has come up that requires my full deliberation.”
“That explains your less than hospitable greeting.” Cyrus relaxed a bit, placing his hat on a knee.
“Logan Granger at your service, Mr. Kennedy.” Logan Granger stood, extending a hand. “Explains it but doesn’t excuse it by any means. I tend to get engrossed with a new case which is why my wife has chased me from our table today. I’m not to return until I have things settled in my head—and I think I do.”
Standing, Cyrus grasped the extended hand firmly then looked Granger over. No wonder the Pinkertons were masters at disguise. No one would guess the man sitting in front of him belonged to the famed detective agency. He looked like he should be pouring shots of whiskey and glasses of beer.
“I believe our business is concluded, Mr. Granger.” Pushing his hat back onto his head, Cyrus turned then paused for a moment. “I’m looking for a Miss Butler. Do you happen to know where I might find her?”
“Sue Butler?”
“Yes, Miss Suzanne Butler.” The surprised look on Granger’s face caught Cyrus off guard. Was there something about the woman he’d hired she neglected to tell him?
Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset Page 23