A Treasure Brought by Fate: A Historical Western Romance Book

by Lorelei Brogan

  “What are you doing out here? Where’s Joey?” Bonnie asked, poking her head out the door.

  “Just playing some guitar. Today was a long day at work.” James had gotten home early, but he was still exhausted. They had spent hours riding in the bush, pursuing a stagecoach robber, and had finally captured him in the early afternoon. One of his deputies had taken a bullet to the shoulder in the shootout before they had been able to take the man into custody.

  It had been a stressful day, but James grinned when he thought about how he would have a new exciting story to tell Joey at bedtime.

  Bonnie joined him on the porch and sat down beside him on the swing.

  James pointed to Joey, answering his mother’s earlier question.

  “He seems to have taken a real liking to Sam.” James laughed as Joey jumped onto Sam and the dog took a tumble and nudged Joey playfully.

  James had never been disappointed in his dog, and today was no exception.

  “You’ve taken quite a liking to Joey, haven’t you?” Bonnie looked at him with a knowing smile.

  “He’s a great kid. But I’m just taking care of him until I hear from his family.”

  “What if they never find any family?” Bonnie leaned back, moving the swing softly back and forth.

  “Then, well, I suppose Joey can stay here as long as he wants.” James refused to admit to the little leap of hope his heart gave when his mother said the words.

  He couldn’t be thinking about wanting Joey to stay, could he?

  “I’m not a children person, Ma. I think Joey needs a proper home. With his family, where he belongs.”

  Bonnie clucked her tongue and sighed. “Sometimes, we find family where least expect it—and it’s not always family that is related to us by blood.”

  With that, Bonnie stood and slipped back into the house, leaving James staring after her.

  He couldn’t afford to think of Joey as his family. He couldn’t afford to let his heart get close, only to be ripped out when he had to say goodbye to the boy.

  But even as James sat there thinking those thoughts, his heart filled with empathy and care for the little boy tumbling with the dog in his yard.

  Whether he liked to admit it or not, his life wasn’t what it once was—and he had a feeling it was only going to continue to change.

  Chapter 6

  Lyla knocked on the large wooden door to the nicest house in town. Even though they were engaged to be married, she still felt uncomfortable going to Keith Morgan’s house.

  She had never been rich, even when she had lived with her parents. They had been a normal sort of family, working hard to earn enough to get by.

  Keith had told her she was welcome to walk right in whenever she wished, but that was certainly unheard of until they were married.

  The door was opened a few moments later by the maid, who brushed down her skirts and nodded at Lyla with respect.

  “This way, Miss Smith.”

  “It’s okay, you can just call me Lyla.”

  The maid gave her an uncomfortable smile and motioned toward the open door at the end of the hallway. “As you wish,” she said with a brief curtsey. “Mr. Morgan said to tell you that he would be by a little later but to go ahead and get started without him…Lyla.”

  Lyla nodded, then walked into the open room.

  It was set up very much like a parlor. There were a few different chairs set about beside the fireplace and a large piano on one wall.

  The piano, like the chairs, had intricate designs carved into its beautiful wood.

  “You’re here! Come this way, Ma’am, and let’s get started right away. I have so many measurements to take.” A young woman who didn’t look much older than herself was standing on one side of the room, holding a measuring stick and a scissors. She was watching Lyla intently, as if trying to guess her size.

  “I thought we were just measuring for the wedding dress?” Lyla had been reluctant to have Keith pay for the gown, but it had been one thing he had insisted on doing.

  If she remembered correctly his words were, “My bride will be dressed properly. I can’t have people around here thinking I don’t know how to dress you.”

  Lyla cringed. She didn’t need anyone to dress her, contrary to Keith’s beliefs.

  But she also didn’t have the money for the type of dress that would be acceptable for a wedding to a man like him. So she’d finally agreed to have him pay a seamstress to make it.

  “Right this way, Ma’am.” the seamstress led her to the middle of the room, where she began to take her various measurements.

  “Mr. Morgan said I’m to make you a whole new wardrobe. He said new petticoats, new aprons, new everything. I’m so excited, it’s been a little while since I had so much work.” The seamstress paused for a breath of air. “I can’t wait. Aren’t you excited?”

  “Sure, it’s splendid.” Lyla forced the tight smile on her lips to stay in place.

  “You don’t sound very happy. You must be so in love with Keith. You know, everyone in town was jealous when they heard he had finally found someone to marry.” The seamstress began to place pieces of cloth over Lyla, securing them with straight pins.

  At her latest comment, Lyla suddenly felt unsure if she should trust her skin so close to the seamstress and her sharp pins.

  “I am glad to be marrying Keith. But a girl doesn’t always marry for love.”

  The seamstress stopped her work and stared at Lyla, her mouth open wide. “Are you saying you don’t love him?”

  Lyla bit her lower lip, realizing she might have said too much. “That is not what I meant. I was merely making an observation.”

  The seamstress smiled and nodded, but Lyla didn’t miss the slight glint of mistrust in the girl’s eyes.

  Lyla sighed. She wasn’t cut out for this type of life. Her body ached worse from standing in one place for more than an hour than it did when she worked from sun up to sun down doing every sort of manual work one could imagine.

  “Lyla? Lyla, my dear, you’re here!” Keith’s voice made Lyla wince, but she hid the expression behind a wider grin and fake words.

  “Keith! You came. I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get to see you before heading back to the hotel.”

  “Mr. Morgan, how good of you to come!” the seamstress exclaimed, turning to him with a lavish smile.

  Lyla saw the seamstress’ angry glance when Keith ignored her and went instead to greet Lyla with a kiss on the cheek.

  “I still don’t understand why you insist on staying at that ratty hotel. You could have the choice of any one of the rooms here; it would make the move after the wedding so much simpler.”

  Lyla sighed. “You know it wouldn’t look proper, and I wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

  It was a valid excuse, and one that played on society’s view of Keith. The thought of others thinking badly of him was probably the only reason that Keith allowed her to stay at the hotel.

  Lyla didn’t really care what the reason was. She was just glad she could hold on to some semblance of freedom for the next couple months until their union.

  “I know it wouldn’t look proper, but I miss you every minute we are apart. I am so looking forward to our wedding night.” He smiled at her with a hungry look that made her shiver.

  Lyla nodded, just like she knew he wanted her to. “I am, too, darling, but it will be here sooner than you think.”

  “What would you think about making that a reality?” Keith took a step closer to Lyla, and she fought the urge to back up.

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if we made the wedding in one month instead of three?”

  Lyla held her breath for a moment to keep from saying her real thoughts. “Oh, Keith!” she managed, finally. “That would be wonderful! But we can’t. We just can’t.”

  Keith’s expression turned from happy to confused. “Why ever not? Nearly all of the preparations are ready. It would be quite
simple, really.”

  “Everyone has already been invited, and they would have to be told the date changed.” Lyla tried to think of a better excuse, and one occurred to her a few seconds later. She leaned in as if she were about to tell him a secret. “Also, people might think we were moving it up for…improper reasons.”

  Keith took a step back and nodded solemnly. “I suppose I’ll have to be patient, but each day that passes is harder to bear than the last. My passion for you grows with each sunset.”

  Lyla fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wondered if Keith would be this over-the-top once they were married.

  A knock at the door made Lyla and Keith, as well as the seamstress, all turn in unison.

  A young boy with dirt smudges on his face stood at the door, holding a newspaper in his hands.

  Keith crossed the room and took the paper from the boy without so much of a thank you, then sat down and began to read it, waving the boy away as if he were a fly.

  Lyla watched him out of the corner of her eye. He reminded her of a lion, prowling about and waiting to catch its next prey. It seemed he had already caught her.

  Her heart squeezed in dread as she thought of it. How had she ended up here, promised to marry a man like Keith?

  “Look at this. There’s been another accident out west. It is such a rough country out there. Not at all civilized, those people!” Keith shook the paper a bit as he peered closer at whatever he was reading. “Don’t you have family out west, love?”

  Lyla nodded, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She didn’t want to discuss her family with Keith. That would be too much. But as she kept her silence, a curious dread crept over her.

  An accident? Of course, she had read about the different accidents that happened in the west when they did make it into the paper. And whenever she did, she held her breath as she searched for her sister’s name or her nephew’s name.

  “What happened?” Lyla asked at last.

  “Seems like a wagon went over a cliff. Odd they’d be cluttering the paper with something like this.” Keith kept reading in silence. After a moment, he announced, “Oh, it seems there was a survivor and they’re looking for his family.”

  “Really? What’s his name?” Lyla was fairly certain it couldn’t be her sister. She had just received a letter from her last month.

  “Joey, Joey Henderson, a seven-year-old boy.” He clacked his tongue noisily before continuing. “Both parents were killed when the horses ran out of control over a cliff near Wheatberry, Kansas. The boy is residing temporarily with Sheriff James Johnson of Wheatberry until any living relatives may be found. The boy reported that his parents were Henry and Mary Henderson and that he only knew of an aunt that would be a relative, but he didn’t know her name or what town she lived in. The sheriff of Wheatberry sent a notice to the sheriff of Merrill, Illinois, on June the 6th. If anyone has information that might help us locate the aunt, please notify the sheriff’s office immediately.”

  Lyla’s heart stopped beating and she felt her skin grow clammy. She jumped down from the little stool she’d been standing on, crossed the room, and pulled the paper from Keith’s hands.

  She ignored the seamstress’ and Keith’s protests as she read through the article herself.

  No, Keith hadn’t read wrong. It was Lyla’s sister and her brother-in-law who had been killed in the wagon accident, and only her nephew had survived.

  Lyla’s eyes filled with tears, and she felt as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen. How could this be happening to her? There were hundreds, thousands of people in the west. How had an accident happened to her sister, of all people?

  “Lyla, darling, what’s wrong?” Lyla heard Keith’s worried voice as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

  She brushed him off and began to pace, letting the offending newspaper flutter to the floor.

  “M-my sister. The accident… it was my sister, Mary.”

  Lyla didn’t hear the kind words Keith had to say or the attempts at comfort that the seamstress made.

  All she could see were the words she had read on the newspaper page, announcing that she had seen and heard from her older sister for the last time.

  ---*---

  It had been nearly four days since Lyla had found out the news of her sister’s death. Keith had refused to let her go back to the hotel. Lyla was unable to tell if it was him being protective of her, or if he was using the situation to gain more control.

  She spent the nights crying herself to sleep and the days making arrangements. Joey, her sister’s son, needed a home now.

  Lyla hadn’t wanted to go get him, but his only other relative, her uncle, had insisted that he couldn’t go. He was a businessman in Chicago, and claimed he couldn’t possible leave the city for a month or two to go fetch the child.

  He had agreed to care for the boy once he was delivered to his home. He had plenty of money and connections, and could afford to send Mary’s son to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in Chicago.

  Lyla hated the idea of going herself. She had never met her nephew, and she didn’t want to, either. Everything that was in the west threatened to undo the life she had built for herself here.

  Lyla sighed. She had been trying to find another solution every waking hour, but she had come to realize that there was none. She would have to simply go and retrieve her nephew and bring him to her uncle herself.

  She pushed from her mind the idea that her uncle wouldn’t be the ideal caretaker for Joey. He was an impatient man and had no wife, but he was wealthy and had plenty of servants. And he was the only family that Joey had left. He would have to do. At the very least, he would ensure the boy had an excellent education.

  Lyla ignored the nagging thought that she might care for the child herself. She couldn’t possibly afford to think such a thing. She was going to have to go and get him and bring him back just in time for her wedding. She had three months, which would also guarantee that Keith couldn’t move up the date of the wedding.

  Not feeling at all excited about the idea of such a long and arduous trip, Lyla left Keith’s house to send a telegram. Once the arrangements were made, she would tell Keith. She groaned. Lyla was positive that Keith would be much unhappier about this new arrangement than she was.

  He would probably offer to go himself or hire some stranger to do it, but Lyla couldn’t risk it.

  Out of love and respect for her sister and for the boy, the least she could do was take Joey to a safe place herself. She knew that if her sister were alive and Lyla did any less, she would never be forgiven.

  Lyla had already been in her sister’s debt for years. She owed it to her sister and to the boy.

  Chapter 7

  James felt the horse moving underneath him and the sun on his back. Joey was sitting in front of him, his little hands twisted into the horse’s mane.

  Joey had been coming with him into town nearly every day now. On the days that Joey stayed with his mother, James found himself missing the little boy’s companionship.

  He didn’t know how it had happened, but Joey had engrained himself into James’s life without James even realizing it.