CHARMED Boxed Set 1, Hero Hearts Historical: Inspirational Western Romance

by Cambridge, Kate

  “I’ll help clear the table,” Mary suggested, catching Lance’s eyes as he glanced at Magdalena’s plate and was about to protest. Mary simply shook her head no. He seemed to get the message.

  EIGHTEEN

  “You could fake another illness,” Mary suggested, as the two women sat at the table with a cup of tea.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You could volunteer to help at Lance—Doctor Holloway—at his office.”

  “As if teaching full-time isn’t enough. He’ll never agree to it. He’s too overprotective.”

  “We could get Jim to fake an injury—that would be believable—he’s accident prone. That would get Lance out here more often and give you a chance to get to know one another better.”

  “Mary, I appreciate that you want to help me, I really do, but a marriage can’t be based on false pretenses, either.”

  “I think you should just ask him.”

  “What are you talking about? Ask Lance to marry me?”

  “Yes, why not? He’s clearly interested in you, and regardless of how much you protest, it’s obvious that you’re interested and impacted by him. Just be honest with him. The worse that can happen is he says “no” and then you’re back to square one.”

  “He might agree out of a sense of duty or something, and I could never live with that. Unlike my father,” Magdalena clarified, “Lance strikes me as a man with a good heart. He clearly likes to help others. I couldn’t bear it if he agreed to marry me out of pity.”

  Mary shrugged her shoulders. “You’re running out of options—I’m just saying I think you should consider it.”

  “I’ll think about it, Mary, but to be honest, he’s very overbearing and used to having people practically jump at his words. That would never work for me.”

  “Don’t think too long. You only have two months left, and if he does say no, which I’m fairly certain he won’t, then you’ve got to have a few weeks left for Plan B.”

  Mary paused then offered, “Jim?”

  “Oh, goodness, no. He’s like a brother to me.”

  Mary nodded, then giggled. “He’d do it, though, you know? He would unquestionably offer to marry you if you needed that.”

  Magdalena smiled. “He’s a really good guy, there’s no doubt about that, but no. Absolutely not.”

  “Okay,” Mary agreed. “Have you heard from your father?”

  “Yes, he sent a letter asking how things are at the orphanage, and then proceeds to remind me that my days are numbered.”

  “He didn’t!” Mary gasped.

  Magdalena grimaced. “No, not in so many words, but it was the meaning behind his words.” She sighed. “The only other option I have is to declare myself independent of him and try to find a full-time teaching job or something that I can support myself with.”

  “Have you talked with Sister Theresa about options at the orphanage?” Mary asked.

  “No. It’s a Catholic orphanage—the only work they have is volunteer-based unless you want to convert—which I don’t. I’ve applied for a few teaching jobs, but they are few and far between. It’s not likely anything can be confirmed in time.”

  “You can always stay with me, Magdalena,” Mary offered.

  Magdalena smiled. “You’re a good friend, Mary, but I couldn’t do that. This isn’t your burden—it’s my cross to bear and I will figure it out.” She bit her lower lip. “Maybe I should inquire at the saloon…” her gaze moved to Mary’s and her friend burst out in laughter.

  “The threat of that might get your father to back off,” Mary agreed, “no doubt about that.”

  Magdalena’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ve got to get to the orphanage early today to get my classroom ready. Although we only missed a few days, it has set all the classes back by a day or two. We’re mostly caught up, but I need to determine the best way to combine a few days together. I’ll see you later tonight. And Mary,” she added.

  “Yes?” Mary asked.

  “Thanks for caring and trying to help.”

  Mary nodded. “Something will come together, Magdalena, you just wait and see.”

  NINETEEN

  Dinner was on the table by the time Magdalena walked through the door at the end of a long day—and she entered the kitchen surprised to see Jim and Lance Holloway seated at the table. Mary was just about to join them.

  Magdalena paused in the doorway and groaned. She stopped herself from asking why he was there. “I’ll set my things down and be right with you,” she said with a questioning glance toward Mary, who simply shrugged her shoulders.

  Magdalena dropped her books in her room and joined them at the table, waiting for Jim to say the blessing.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you for this day, and for this food, You have provided for us. We thank you for all the things you bring into our lives to teach us patience and fortitude. We thank you for this beautiful earth, and for these beautiful women at our table. We pray in Jesus name, Amen.”

  “Amen,” everyone at the table echoed in unison.

  Magdalena and Mary exchanged a look—it wasn’t like Jim to joke in a prayer—he took Christianity very seriously, but Mags couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t insinuating something with the reference to patience and fortitude. Although even if he was, she supposed she probably deserved it.

  “How was everyone’s day?” Magdalena asked.

  Jim pipped up. “Mary and I accomplished a lot on the farm today, and,” he looked at Lance, “you’ll be glad to know I had Jacob’s men join Mary and me to add that beam in the barn.”

  “Please tell me it wasn’t Mary sitting on the top beam again?” Lance added derisively.

  Mary scowled. “They wouldn’t let me—,”

  “But it wasn’t for lack of her trying,” Jim added with a laugh.

  “What’s this about?” Magdalena asked.

  Lance recounted the story of he and Lee finding Mary sitting on the top of a beam ten feet high in the garage while Jim tried to single-handedly hoist a heavy beam for her to balance.

  Magdalena’s mouth dropped open. “Jim—,”

  “I know, I know, it stupid of me. I need to learn to resist the wiles of my sister better.”

  “Don’t try to blame me—“ Mary argued.

  Magdalena laughed out loud.

  “What?” Mary and Jim asked simultaneously.

  “You both just took me back to dinners at your house when we were kids. You reverted back to, oh let’s say, the age of ten?” She grinned.

  Mary scowled but then chuckled. “You and Claire always acted like you were too old to be dealing with me and Jim,” she recalled.

  “We were a bit snotty, weren’t we?” Magdalena agreed with a snort. “Your father never put up with it, though. He was a master at redirecting the conversation, and none of us were the wiser.”

  “My father is a good man,” Mary agreed wistfully.

  “You miss him? Philadelphia?” Magdalena asked.

  Mary sighed, dropping her eyes to her plate.

  The table was quiet. Jim cleared his throat.

  Magdalena reached for her friend’s hand. “There’s no shame in missing your home, Mary, or your family. Sometimes circumstances change—” Magdalena paused, wondering if it was Mary or herself she was referring to.

  “I know,” Mary whispered, blinking rapidly. “I’m just not ready to make any decisions about my future just yet.”

  Magdalena squeezed her hand. “And that’s perfectly okay.” She assured her.

  “What about your day?” Mary asked. “How are things at the orphanage?”

  Magdalena pulled her hand back, picking up her fork. “Complicated.”

  “What do you mean?” Lance asked.

  “Well, we’re making great progress with the children,” a smile lit Magdalena’s face. “Frankly I could not have imagined how well the children would take to learning—or how incredibly smart they are. A few of them are like sponges—“ a sad cloud crossed her fac
e before she visibly forced a smile. “It makes me wonder why God designed some of us to be born into families of means—and some into families with almost nothing—and yet others without even a family.” She finished softly, moving her food around her plate.

  “What happens at the end of the remainder of your time?” Jim asked, curious.

  “I’m not sure, Jim. That’s where it gets complicated,” she explained. “The children need consistent education if it’s going to truly make a difference. A few of them—well, I think a few of them are quite gifted.” She risked a glance at Lance. “Raphael is very smart. He’s one of my sponges,” she smiled. “I don’t know what his story is, and Sister Theresa won’t say, but he consumes knowledge like it’s going to be snatched away from him at any moment.”

  Lance nodded, then smiled. “He’s an amazing little boy, there’s no doubt. Whenever I’m at the orphanage, he follows me around like a puppy, and wants to know the reason behind everything I’m doing, and why.”

  “I noticed.” Magdalena grinned. “He’s very curious and quite taken with you. You’re his hero.”

  “Many of these children have little to no memory of their families, and although the Sisters do everything they can, the children need more male figures in their lives.” He confessed.

  “That’s why you come by so often?” Magdalena asked.

  “That’s part of it,” he agreed. “The children live in such close quarters that I try to be diligent about being available to them for medical issues. As you know,” he glanced at Magdalena,” once one child becomes ill, it goes through the orphanage like a wildfire. The sisters are more careful about the first signs of sickness now, but even that doesn’t always make enough of a difference.”

  Magdalena turned back to Jim. “So to answer your question, I’m not really sure what happens when my three months are up.”

  “Why don’t you stay? Continue teaching?” He asked.

  “It’s not an option. You have to be a sister or volunteer at the orphanage if you’re not a nun. I—I have to return to Philadelphia.”

  Jim cocked his head at her, “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.” Was all she offered. “What about you?” She turned her attention toward Lance. “How was your day, Doctor Holloway?” He’d been staring at her while she talked, and her cheeks were red.

  “It was a quiet day. I had to check on a patient out this way, so stopped in to say hello. Mary kindly invited me to stay for dinner.”

  Magdalena cast a sideways glance at Mary. “I hope your patient is all right,” she commented, her eyes moving back to the doctor’s.

  He nodded, never taking his eyes from hers.

  TWENTY

  “He’s disconcerting.”

  Mary laughed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you like this, Magdalena.”

  Magdalena shuddered. “This whole ultimatum from my father has thrown me for a loop. I don’t know what to do about it and now I’m down to just six weeks.” She protested. “It’s nothing more than that.” She insisted.

  “Claire’s returning from Philadelphia today,” Mary stated.

  “She is? How do you know?”

  “I received a letter from her, but there must have been a delay. It just arrived today, and she sent it over two weeks ago. Sully completed his work with the governor, and of course, he couldn’t wait to get back to Bareglen Creek.”

  “Of course,” Magdalena smiled. “Claire told me that he loves being a sheriff here more than anything.”

  “He does, and he’s a good one. The crime in this town is way down, and the odd thing is, I think even the criminals respect him.”

  “It will be good to see Claire. Do you think she’ll be rested enough by tomorrow that we could go visit her?”

  “If she doesn’t beat us to it.” Mary giggled. “She asked me how you were doing—and obviously I didn’t have a chance to respond yet. She also suggested that she’d like it if you spent some time with her at their house in town.”

  “I can’t do that,” Magdalena protested. They are newlyweds.” Her face glowed pink.

  “They are all that,” Mary agreed with an eyebrow raised, “but Sully often has to be away for days at a time, depending on circumstances, and I think Claire finds that lonely. If she invites you, you should absolutely take her up on it.”

  “You’re just saying that so I’ll be closer to Lance—Doctor Holloway,” Magdalena corrected quickly.

  ‘Yes, well, Sister Theresa mentioned they’ve been seeing more of him since you started teaching there…” Mary suggested.

  “Hogwash,” Magdalena protested. “He loves those children and they love him.” She paused. “He seems really happy when he’s with them—less intense.” She added.

  “Good Lord, he and Lee Jamison have the corner on the market for that,” Mary agreed, rolling her eyes.

  “Yes, well, I can’t abide by it,” Magdalena confessed. “I’ve grown up in a house ruled by a physician my entire life and if I wanted to marry—which I don’t—the last person in the world I would want to marry is a doctor.” She announced with finality.

  Mary groaned. “There are no two people alike in this world, Mags, just like there are no two doctors or farmers or lawyers alike. You’re an intelligent woman and you know that,” Mary scolded gently.

  “Regardless, the last thing I need in my life is a husband—especially not a domineering, know-it-all who likes to boss me around and just so happens to be a doctor!”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Not all men are like that, Mags. My husband—he was a good man—and sweet and kind. He was bossy at times, but I knew it came from his desire to protect me and love me. If I could go to Philadelphia and scold your father for the harm, he has caused—I would—but I can’t. So all I can do is hope to talk some sense into his daughter for letting this situation impact her judgment.”

  Magdalena scowled at Mary. Mary scowled back.

  “The truth is, sometimes I was grateful for the moments when he told me to do something simply because he knew it was best for me… even when I didn’t want to. Even when I was too stubborn to see it,” Mary admitted.

  Jim walked in just in time. “Wow, what’s going on?” He asked with concern.

  “Nothing.” Both women murmured simultaneously.

  “Women,” Jim muttered under his breath as he made his way to his room, “you can’t live with ‘em and you can’t live without ‘em.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Raphael, please get back to your seat, now!” Magdalena scolded. This was one of those days when nothing went right, and the children seemed restless and sullen.

  Magdalena knew she was pushing them to try to complete the curriculum on time, but what other option was there? She didn’t know who might replace her—or even if anyone would. She felt desperate to impart as much knowledge to these children as she could before she had to leave.

  Suddenly she heard a ruckus in the schoolyard and quickly walked to the door, shrinking back when she saw five men on horses with guns drawn. Sister Theresa walked calmly toward the man whose horse was in the lead.

  Magdalena nudged the door closed, keeping it ajar just enough to watch what was happening through a crack. When she heard the gunshot and Sister Theresa drop to the ground, she closed it completely and locked it.

  She quickly glanced around the classroom assessing who was old enough and mature enough to sneak out the back of the classroom and carry out her instructions. She heard a knocking at the door and decided: “Raphael, you and Jose must leave through the backdoor. I want you to crawl through the grass to the trail behind the schoolroom and once you reach the trees run toward the town. Do not stop until you reach the sheriff, do you understand me?”

  Both boys nodded, eyes wide.

  “Repeat back to me what you are going to do.” She demanded.

  “We will sneak out the back door and crawl through the grass to the wooded trail,” Raphael repeated.

  “Then we’ll run as fast as w
e can to the sheriff and bring him back,” Jose whispered.

  “Go!” She demanded, opening the back door for them, whispering, “Quietly, and Godspeed!”

  She closed the door behind them and turned to the children.

  “We know that lying is wrong, is that right?”

  The children nodded yes.

  “But this—this is not lying. This is protecting two of our own. We are the only ones who are here and no one has left us. Do you understand?”

  The children nodded.

  “I do not want anyone to speak. Not even one of you. I am the teacher and I am the only one who will speak,” she instructed before the front door of the schoolroom burst open, splintering the wood where the lock once held.

  Three men busted through the door and into the classroom.

  Magdalena stood in front of the children, placing herself between the men and her wards, desperate to quell the shaking she felt all the way to her bones.

  “What do you want?” She asked, arms crossed, standing tall.

  The lead man sneered at her, pushing her aside, walking into the classroom.

  “Estamos buscando un niño.” He demanded.

  “I don’t speak Spanish,” Magdalena replied.

  “We are looking for a child,” the man repeated in English.

  “The child you seek is not here,” she deadpanned.

  His eyes narrowed. “How do you know who I seek?” He asked.

  “There are only orphans here,” Magdalena clarified, unmovable.

  He walked past each of the tables, examining each of the children.

  “My son was taken from me,” he explained. “He is eight years old, small for his age, and he has brown eyes. His name is Pablo.” He sneered.

  “There is no Pablo here, sir, nor has there been since I have been here.” She confirmed confidently.

  He circled her, slowly.

  Magdalena closed her eyes, desperate to quell the fear rolling down her spine. Desperate to persuade him to leave.