The train whistle blew again as she was continuing her conversation with the boy, cutting off Adam’s hearing the discussion.
Adam whirled around when he heard the lady mention Mr. Larson. He had read the stack of letters that Sam had received from the woman, and there was no mention that she was a widow, let alone had a son.
Adam took off his hat and held it on his chest before taking two steps forward and asking, “Miss Millie Donovan?”
The woman’s green eyes turned up to meet his hazel ones to acknowledge his presence. She stood up straight and pasted a smile on her face, probably thinking she was meeting her intended. “Mr. Larson?”
“NO, NO!” The little boy screamed at the top of his lungs while rushing forward to pummel Adam’s knees with his tiny fists.
***
Millie froze when Tate attacked the legs of the tall man. He bent his broad shoulders down to clamp his hands on the unruly child and attempt to peel him off his legs. He had dropped his wide-brimmed hat in Tate’s mini attack, and Millie got a good look at his neatly trimmed light brown hair. The man wasn’t at all like Millie had pictured Sam to be, but it gave her heart flutter to find out he was so tall and handsome.
Now, Tate—with tears trickling down his cheeks and his thumb in his pouty mouth—was being settled on the man’s hip and he turned his attention to her again. “Miss Donovan?”
“Yes,” Millie breathed, relieved to finally meet her husband.
“Miss Donovan, I’m sorry to…”
“Star!” Tate screamed, interrupting the man as he punched the Marshal badge on the front of the man’s shirt.
Millie stared at the object then up at the man’s face. His face twitched as he gave her a look that said he wasn’t amused by the boy’s second attack on his person.
He thrust the tot at arm’s length, but Millie stared at the badge instead of taking Tate. Oh Lord, have we run into more trouble than we ran away from? Sam never mentioned in his letters that he was the town marshal besides a rancher.
“Miss Donovan?” Millie realized the lawman wanted her to take Tate, so she took the boy and hugged him to her shaking chest. “Ma’am, could we walk over to my office so we can talk?”
“My bags…”
“Your bags will be fine here with the depot agent for a minute. Please come with me.”
Millie followed behind the determined man as he strolled down the dusty boardwalk in front of them. He reached the marshal’s office several seconds before she did because of his clipped pace, and already had the door open and waiting for her to walk in.
“Please have a seat and hold on to your boy so he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.”
That remark made Millie’s spine stiffen and her red-haired courage flare. Sam mentioned he loved children so Millie couldn’t believe his callous demeanor towards Tate. She gripped Tate around his waist and firmly set his little bottom on her lap as she sank into the wooden chair in front of the marshal’s desk. The lawman continued to stand behind the desk until she had Tate under control—for a few seconds.
“Miss Donovan, I’m Marshal Adam Wilerson, and I regret to tell you that Sam Larson is dead.”
When the marshal’s blunt words sunk in, Millie felt Tate’s body slide out of her arms as the room blacked out of her sight.
***
Now what? Adam kneeled beside the woman on the floor as the crying boy ran circles around his desk. This is not how his usual day went. Adam would prefer the swinging fists of any drunken cowboy over this distressed mother and her uncontrollable child.
Just as Adam dipped his handkerchief in the water pail that sat on the nearby table, she slowly came to. Although by now, Adam would have preferred to wipe the wet cloth across his own face, he handed it to Miss Donovan. She patted her face, then grabbed the boy to scrub his tear-streaked face, asked the little boy to “blow” his nose—and then handed the snot-filled cloth back to him.
Adam stayed silent as the woman gathered her composure—and the wayward child—back in the seat in front of his desk. At least now the tot was subdued with his thumb stuck in his mouth, and baby drool running down his chin, again.
“Miss Donovan…or should I be calling you Widow Donovan?” He paused a second because she wasn’t wearing all black like a widowed woman, but she just nodded her head and didn’t say which name he should use. “I’m sorry to inform you that Sam died in a riding accident. Your letters were among his things, but I didn’t have a way to contact you. Your last letter said you were stopping at your sister’s a while, but her name and address weren’t mentioned.”
Adam continued because she didn’t say anything. “Because you and Sam weren’t married yet, I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can give you except advice. It would be best if you get back on the train and travel back to Illinois or to your sister’s family.”
“No! Um…no…my sister…is…no longer there.”
That information stunned Adam. She just lost her sister, and then he had to give her this news? My word, no wonder she collapsed. Adam cleared his throat and spoke with compassion this time. “I’m sorry for your loss. Could your sister’s husband help you?” This time the woman didn’t meet his eyes when she shook her head no, but he noticed she tightened her hold on the boy. “Do you have somewhere else you could go?”
She rubbed her forehead as if trying to erase the bad news she just received. Then she looked up, not into his eyes but at his badge. “I’ll have to think about this,” she replied in a weary voice.
Adam extended his hand to the woman, waiting for her to rise out of the chair, trying to get her out of his office so he could head out to the ranch. He didn’t know what else to do for this poor woman and an upset child. “I’ll collect your bags and walk you over to the hotel, Miss Donovan.”
***
Millie was afraid she’d faint again before the marshal got out of sight. She was so relieved when she first saw him, or who she thought was Sam Larson. She felt her luck had turned around when she saw his strong stature and clear, kind eyes. She and Tate would be okay here—in the middle of nowhere—also known as Clear Creek, Kansas.
She let out a slow breath, trying not to hyperventilate. The news of Sam’s demise was devastating to her plans, but having a lawman know where she was…made things worse.
Marshal Wilerson was more than ready to deposit her bags inside the hotel’s door and removed himself just as quickly, not even waiting to catch the hotel clerk’s eye to indicate that Millie needed assistance. He mumbled something about a family dinner he was late for and excused himself.
Millie had let him go, because she needed to get away from him, too. After looking out the hotel door to be sure he was out of sight, Millie scooted the bags out the door while wrangling Tate.
“Ma’am, may I help you?” The clerk had been busy with a guest when they first arrived and was now ready to assist Millie.
“No, thank you,” Millie said as she slammed the door practically in his face.
Now what? “Tate, you’re going to have to walk while I get these bags.” Millie grasped the bags and coat, looking up and down the Main Street of this little town. Sam had sent her money for the train ticket, so she had the fare to get here. Unfortunately, she had no extra cash along because she had stuffed it into her sister’s hand before picking up Tate and running to the train station.
Millie took stock of Tate’s appearance, due to the smell that reeked from his pants. She didn’t have time to grab many of Tate’s things when they left in a hurry, so Tate only had a few diapers along. How was she going to wash and dry his little items? A bath would do wonders for both of their spirits too, but that was unlikely to happen anytime soon.
She sighed, turning her face up to the sky to mutter, “Now what, Da?” She never thought she’d be living on the streets again like she did in her old Conely’s Patch neighborhood after the Great Chicago fire two years ago, but that’s what it seemed would be her fate. Well, it was going to be “beg,
borrow or steal” if she and Tate were going to eat and sleep tonight. She had lived through it before and would again, only then she didn’t have a toddler to worry about.
Continue reading Millie Marries a Marshal now!
~*~*~*~
About the Author
Linda Hubalek had written over forty books about strong women and honorable men, with a touch of humor, despair, and drama woven into the stories. The setting for all the series is the Kansas prairie which Linda enjoys daily, be it being outside or looking out her office window.
Linda loves to hear from her readers and loves to know what they'd like to see her write next. Visit her website at http://www.LindaHubalek.com to contact her or read about all her books.
Her historical romance series include Brides with Grit, Grooms with Honor, and the Clear Creek Legacy. Linda's historical fiction series, based on her ancestors' pioneer lives include, Butter in the Well, Trail of Thread, and Planting Dreams.
When not writing, Linda is reading (usually with dark chocolate within reach), gardening (channeling her degree in Horticulture), or traveling with her husband to explore the world.
Table of Contents
Adolph’s Choice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Nolan’s Vow
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Elof’s Mission
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Grooms with Honor Series, Books 7-9 Page 39