by Leah Atwood
Free to Love
A Texas Wildflowers Novelette
By Leah Atwood
Freedom Brides
A controversial new program. A new hope for six women in need. When others wilt, they will thrive. These are the Texas Wildflowers.
Free to Love
Free to Heal
Free to Protect
Free to Serve
Free to Roam
Free to Forgive
Copyright © 2015 by Leah Atwood
Cover Design © Susette Williams
Cover Image © dollarphotoclub.com- dfikar
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
CHAPTER ONE
“We’re leaving.” Deputy Strand unlocked the cell door. “Time to get moving.”
Cord McGraw sat up from the hard platform being passed off as a bed. He didn’t say a word, only did what he was told. The sooner he did his time, the sooner he could get out of here. Deputy Strand secured his hands and led him outside to a team of horses hitched to a wagon.
“Get on up, now. We’re headed to Mucksbe.” The deputy jumped up from the left side.
Maneuvering with cuffed hands wasn’t easy, but Cord managed to climb into the wagon. Too proud to ask what was happening, he stared straight ahead and blocked out each jolt and jumble of the wagon as it ambled across the landscape.
Deputy Strand swiped his forehead with his arm sleeve. “You don’t talk much, do you, boy?”
“Words have never done me much good.” His tone matched his feelings—numb, monotonous, apathetic.
Sometime around noon, they arrived in Mucksbe. Cord was led into a church and his arms freed. He sat where directed and watched with concealed curiosity as each new person was brought into the building. The door creaked open again, and Cord looked back to see another deputy walk inside with a ragged man beside him.
“Sit down in the second pew.” The deputy gave the man a push on the shoulder.
The latest arrival made six men, including him, who sat in the desolate pews—each had been escorted by a deputy or sheriff. It wasn’t a stretch to assume the other men were criminals, and also the irony of them gathered in a place of worship didn’t escape Cord. Many years, even before he delved into the dark side, had passed since he’d last stepped foot inside such a building.
A snort almost broke away from him. Some criminal he’d turned out to be, getting caught the first and only time he’d broken the law. He didn’t belong with the likes of these men. The only reason he’d done what he had was to get the money Boss rightfully owed him. Ma and Coralie were counting on that money. Unfortunately for him, the law hadn’t seen it his way, and he was sentenced to two years in prison.
This morning was the first time in a month he’d gone more than ten feet from the jailhouse in Belleton, Texas. He still had most of his sentence left to serve, and it loomed ahead like a constant storm. Two years was too long to be away from Coralie. What would happen to her without his provisions?
Cord’s head jerked up when a large, imposing man entered the church, wearing a vest with a star-shaped badge attached. Another sheriff. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, sending a thundering echo through the building. An air of confidence and authority emanated from the sheriff as he walked down the aisle with long, deliberate strides. Some of the men sat at attention. Cord was indifferent.
The sheriff reached the front and leaned his back against the pulpit, his arms crossed in rigid form. His eyes landed on each man in the room, resting on them individually for a few seconds. Cord met his gaze and refused to flinch or blink. He even dared a tight nod.
“I am Sheriff Daniels. Welcome to Mucksbe, your new home, should you choose to make it.” Again, the sheriff took several moments to make eye contact with each man.
The hairs rose on Cord’s neck, and his ears perked. Now his interest was captured.
The dark-haired man in front of Cord shifted to the edge of his seat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Yeah, what do you mean by ‘new home’ exactly.” A scraggly blond haired man, who appeared an age similar to Cord’s twenty-three years, asked.
Unfazed by the skepticism, Sheriff Daniels kept his severe pose. “Men, each of you have been handpicked to participate in the new Freedom Brides program.”
“Brides?” Cord choked.
“Yes, Freedom Brides.” Sheriff Daniels grinned—it was an arrogant, mocking smile. “As a joint effort among several local communities, we’ve devised a social outreach program to combat multiple problems facing our towns.”
“Get to the gist.” The dark-haired man, the one who’d been the last to arrive, scowled.
Sheriff Daniels narrowed his gaze. “Any more outbursts and your offer to participate will be immediately rescinded.”
The man clenched his jaw but remained quiet.
“Each of you was chosen as a flagship participant because your crimes, while still demanding punishment, are minor infractions. I, and the other sheriffs involved, believe you each have something to offer that will better our community.”
Or in my case, was only trying to get what was rightfully mine.
Silence reigned among the six men, every one of them at rapt attention.
Cord rose his hand, and the sheriff nodded permission to speak. “What does this program entail?”
“If you choose, you will marry a woman in need in exchange for your freedom.”
Beads of sweat broke out on Cord’s forehead. To gain his freedom, he’d have to marry? What kind of nonsense was this?
“I’m not too sure I follow,” the dark-haired man spoke again.
“A woman alone in the west is in a dangerous predicament, though often by no fault of their own. It is our hope to preempt that danger by placing said women with husbands.” The sheriff’s brief lapse of his confident pose told Cord he wasn’t overly confident of the plan.
And why would he be? It was absurd. “With all due respect, Sir, we are criminals. Why would the authorities believe these women not to be in danger to us?”
Cord would never hurt a woman, but that was beside the fact. Perhaps he shouldn’t say anything to dissuade the program, but he wasn’t certain marriage was a better sentence than his two years.
“In most circumstances, I would agree with you. However, all six of you were carefully considered before you were brought here.” Sheriff Daniels sighed and exhaled a deep breath mixed with equal measures of hope and wariness. “The other presiding sheriffs and I believe that in each of your cases there is not inborn contempt that led you your crimes, rather a lack of maturity or good sense.”
Another man started to speak, but Sheriff Daniels held up a hand to stop him. “I understand that this is unconventional, but I truly believe it to be a program that will benefit the community in numerous ways.”
“So all we have to do is marry a woman and we get our freedom?” This time, it
was a man who hadn’t spoken yet that asked the question.
“Essentially, yes.” The sheriff crossed his arms again, resuming the air of authority. “There are parameters, of course, that must be followed.”
“Such as?” Cord’s mind was reeling.
The sheriff removed folded papers from his inner vest pocket. He straightened them out and handed each man a sheet. “They are all written here. Should you choose to participate, you must sign this paper, agreeing to abide by all rules. Otherwise, you’ll be returned to the jail cell you came from, same as if you break any of them.”
Cord took the paper handed to him and read the handwritten rules.
Remain within a fifteen mile radius of the courthouse for the first six months of program involvement.
Refrain from any alcohol or tobacco use.
Refrain from entering any den of iniquity.
Remain faithful to their spouse and not bring any harm upon them.
Actively participate in assisting with spouse’s needs/requests.
Participate in one day of community service per month for the first six months.
Most didn’t seem so bad, except the first one. It meant he wouldn’t be able to go check on Ma and Coralie for another six months, but it would be sooner than serving out his two years.
Still, marriage for freedom? Was the trade-off worth it? He still wasn’t sure, but when the time came to sign his name, he dipped the pen into the ink and scrawled Cord McGraw on the indicated line. For better or worse, he was getting married.
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m sorry, Miss Pearson, but I can’t approve your adoption of Sissy.” Mr. Jeffers, the rotund man sitting behind the desk at the Dallas Children’s Orphanage, shook his head sadly.
Josie knew that the outcome was probable, but it didn’t stop disappointment from festering in her heart. “I understand.”
“If you should find yourself married, I’ll gladly review your application for a second time.” He shuffled a few papers on his desk. “If I could change the rules…”
“What will become of her?” Josie fidgeted with the beaded bag in her hands.
“Sissy will remain at the orphanage until a family member steps forward to claim her or another family chooses to adopt her.” Crossing his hands on the desk, Mr. Jeffers looked at her solemnly. “We will do all that we can to ensure she is well cared for.”
“Thank you.” Defeated, Josie turned and left the room.
The dark halls of the orphanage seemed to scream at her with gloom. She braced her back and straightened her shoulders, determined to make it to the hotel without her despair evidencing itself to the public. What more could she do?
Sissy had worked her way into Josie’s affections from the minute she saw her. She’d never seen so much grit and strength from such a young child. Was it really only a month ago that she’d found Sissy stealing food from her kitchen? Thirty days she’d cared for the young girl who’d escaped the orphanage once, hidden in a wagon, and then got off at Mucksbe, not knowing where she was. Josie had lost her heart to the little darling who was much sweeter than she’d initially portrayed. For the tough act, Sissy was a scared little girl in need of love.
Returning her had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. If she’d had her way, Sissy would have stayed with her forever, but when a representative from the orphanage appeared one day, Josie hadn’t had a choice. Her only option was to pursue adoption, but that hadn’t worked out either.
All because she was an unmarried female.
Never mind that she could support the child, financially as well as emotionally. Her bakery was doing well—hungry men came from all over to treat their palates to sweet delights and freshly baked breads. And Josie loved Sissy. She could provide her all she needed even if it wasn’t ideal to raise her without a father. Could it be any worse than her remaining in the orphanage?
Maybe she could appeal to a higher authority. Whom could she contact above Mr. Jeffers and the orphanage board? She reached her hotel and climbed the flight of stairs to her room which she’d secured for the night. Trying not to think about the money she was losing by closing the bakery for two days, she sat at the dressing table and looked at her reflection.
She’d only turned twenty and two on her last birthday, but she felt much older. All but one of her friends were married and most were expecting, or already had, babies. Meanwhile, she hadn’t had a beau since the summer she’d turned nineteen. She looked again at her reflection.
Though she never dressed in the latest style of Godey’s, opting for practicality instead, she thought herself pleasant to look at. Her chestnut brown hair remained shiny, and she brushed it one hundred times every night. Green eyes were set apart a little too wide for her liking, but that was the only flaw she’d found in her own appearance that she imagined would turn a man away.
Perhaps it wasn’t appearance at all that kept men from coming to court her. In her heart, she knew the reason. Josie was independent. When her parents died four years ago, she’d learned quickly how to take care of herself. Instead of selling the bakery and marrying, as many people urged her to do, she put her feet down and ran it on her own.
No matter how much she wanted to marry and have a family, she wouldn’t give up the bakery. It was all she had left of her parents. Any man who wanted to court her, would have to understand that, and unfortunately, she’d yet to meet that person.
Her stomach grumbled, and she decided to go to the restaurant next to the hotel for supper. After the long day of travel and the negative outcome, she was too weary to walk any farther. Horace’s Eatery was a lively establishment, with lots of people coming and going. There was an upbeat air that lent Josie optimism.
She found a table near the front, next to a large window. An older gentleman with snow-white hair approached her table.
“Welcome to Horace’s.” He set a glass of water on the table and laid a newspaper in front of her. “Tonight has been busier than anticipated. My daughter will be with you shortly, but in the meantime, please accept my offer of the latest issue of the Dallas Daily News, to occupy you while you wait.”
“Thank you.” What a friendly gesture.
She scanned the first few pages, but nothing newsworthy caught her eye. A woman of approximately fifty years of age came to the table.
“I’m sorry about your wait, ma’am. Today's menu is fried chicken, roasted chicken, or steak with your choice of potato salad or mashed potatoes. Every meal comes with a biscuit and green beans.”
“I’ll have fried chicken with potato salad, please.” Fried Chicken was her favorite, and it was a rare opportunity she had to the chance to eat it without being the one to prepare it.
“Shouldn’t take too long. If you need anything, you just call for Agnes.” The woman bustled away, and Josie could only assume she was Agnes.
Returning her attention to the newspaper, she flipped to the fourth page. The word Mucksbe jumped out at her. Why was her little town being mentioned? She focused her gaze on the article, and by the time she reached the end her mouth was gaped fully open.
She read it again.
If she understood correctly, Mucksbe was the center of a just announced new program called Freedom Brides, where men could marry in exchange for their freedom. It was scandalous, the article’s author had declared. And rightfully so!
What type of woman would resort to marrying a stranger? What would they get from the arrangement?
A husband.
Her jaw dropped anew. No. Absolutely not.
But maybe…
CHAPTER THREE
“Today’s your lucky day, McGraw.” Sheriff Daniels sauntered to Cord’s jail cell, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his vest. “The first Freedom Bride has been approved and you’re her pick.”
Cord sucked in a long breath. Three days hadn’t been long enough for him to digest his decision, and he still had his doubts. He sure hadn’t expected to be the first one chosen. “Me?”
“What next?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral, not keen on being picked out like a staple off the mercantile shelf.
“Miss Pearson will see you in an hour to discuss compatibility and expectations. She’s already privy to your background and what brought you here.” Sheriff Daniels unlocked the cell door. “Your meeting will take place in the church, but first you’re headed to the boarding house for a hot bath. We can’t have you meeting your bride smelling like yesterday’s trash.”
Clenching his jaw, Cord kept his eyes from flinching. He’d been smelling his own stench for days and didn’t need a reminder. That he’d be so grateful for a bath was proof of the dignity he’d been forced to forfeit. “And if I meet Miss Pearson’s final approval, then what?”
“You’ll be married by day’s end.” An ornery gleam twinkled in the Sheriff’s eyes, and Cord wasn’t sure it was there from pride in the program or because he found the situation humorous.
He wanted to back out—he wasn’t ready for marriage. What did he even know about it? His parents were poor examples, his father always drunk and his mother always in tears. It didn’t matter now. He’d given his word, and that was something no one could take away from him. Besides, he was doing this for Coralie. If he didn’t look out for her, no one would.
BLOOD RACED THROUGH Cord’s veins two hours later as he stood in the church with Sheriff Daniels, waiting for Miss Pearson to arrive. Josie was her given name, so he’d been told, and she owned Pearson’s Bakery. That’s all the information about her that he’d been given, not even a physical description. He imagined her a homely type—why else would she have to resort to marrying an outlaw?