Prairie Romance Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “Oh, sweet Judith. Come here, my sweet golden eyes. I give you my word we shall marry. I promise.”

  “Marry me now, Rylan. Let’s not wait. The parson is in town tonight. Can’t we call upon him?”

  She leaned forward to kiss him.

  He placed his finger upon her lips. “Trust me,” he whispered and left.

  Left her alone, sitting on the floor of the room that moments before had held so much promise.

  “Oh, God, no,” she cried.

  Chapter 8

  Congratulations, Rylan, I’ll see you at the wedding,” Dick Morgan called out from across the street the next morning. Rylan had left a note on the door of the house explaining that the wedding had been postponed. He’d even filled Pete Anderson in and asked him to spread the word. Apparently it hadn’t spread as quickly as he’d hoped. Thankfully, the parson understood the situation and agreed to stay another day. The town needed to hear a gospel message on Sunday, anyway, Rylan reasoned. He avoided Judith. He’d promised not to hurt her, and that’s all he’d been doing.

  The stage was late.

  Rylan felt the pulse on his neck throb. “Get control,” he reminded himself.

  He released his clenched fist.

  The noise of creaking leather, clinking chains, and horses working their way down Main Street indicated the stage was rounding the bend into town. Rylan placed his hat on his head and waited.

  The door of the stagecoach opened slowly.

  Rylan’s breath caught in his throat.

  Margaret emerged from the carriage. He’d always thought her beautiful, but her looks paled in comparison to Judith’s.

  “Rylan!” She waved and smiled, her hands gloved in white.

  He gave a slight nod.

  Jackson emerged, a bit thinner than in years past. “Hello, Rylan, it’s good to see you.” He reached out his hand.

  Rylan accepted the gesture.

  “He knows,” Margaret whispered.

  Jackson eyed him slowly. “Yes, I believe he does. Sorry, Rylan. We’d like to talk with you if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “There’s not much to say, is there?”

  Jackson put his arm around his wife. “Actually, I believe there is. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have wasted our time coming out here. I … we need a favor.”

  “You two are really something.” Judith’s voice rang through the air.

  “Pardon me, miss, but this is a private conversation.” Jackson bowed slightly.

  Rylan caught his voice and his temper. “Judith, not here. Jackson, Margaret, you can come to my home and discuss the matter. And Jackson, this does involve my future wife.” He held out his hand and grasped Judith’s. “You shouldn’t have come,” he whispered.

  “I know, but I was going stir-crazy in the house.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He held her closer.

  Rylan made arrangements for Jackson and Margaret to be transported to his home and returned with Judith in his wagon. “They’re in trouble, Judith. I don’t know what the problem is, but I can see it in their eyes. Something is terribly wrong.”

  “Why would they come to you?”

  “Other than the fact that Jackson and I have been through thick and thin together as young men, I wouldn’t know.”

  “She’s in a family way,” Judith offered.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Fairly. I’m not certain, but she looks to be.”

  Rylan felt his jaw tighten. “I’ll … no, we’ll need to help them. I don’t know how, but…”

  Judith reached over and took his hand. “The Lord will show us what to do.” She paused, then hoping to break the tension, teasingly added, “You sure you don’t want to swing by the parson’s and get hitched before we go back to the house?”

  Rylan chuckled. “I’d love to, but you deserve better, Judith. I’ll not be a party to giving you less than you deserve on your wedding day.”

  “On our wedding day,” she corrected.

  “On our wedding day.” He reached his arm around her and pulled her close. “I love you, Judith. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone else. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that I’d been wrong for three years. But seeing Margaret”—he paused and eased out his breath—“I know I never loved her the way I love you. What I feel for you is so much more than what I ever felt for Margaret.”

  “Oh, Rylan, hearing those words, I can wait as long as it takes.”

  Rylan grinned. “Not too long, I hope. Do you know how hard it was to sleep in that house last night, knowing your belongings are all in there and that I shouldn’t have postponed the wedding?”

  “We could still call on the parson.” She winked.

  “Come here, golden eyes.”

  She snuggled closer. He leaned over and kissed her. “Soon, my love. Soon.”

  Rylan could take all the time he wanted. She’d heard the words she’d been longing for. He loved her; he truly loved her. She could wait. But she prayed it wouldn’t be too long.

  By the time they all gathered at Rylan’s house, it was time to start cooking dinner. Rylan and Jackson went for a walk to speak privately with each other while Margaret stood in the kitchen and observed Judith’s preparations for the noon meal.

  “How far along are you?” Judith asked.

  Margaret paled. “Five months.”

  “Oh.” Judith flinched. Only one interpretation could be given to Margaret’s answer. The woman had been expecting before she married Jackson.

  “My father is furious. He’s ruined Jackson’s chances of employment. We came here because…”

  “Because you hoped Rylan could help.”

  Margaret nodded.

  “Why didn’t you write him, tell him the truth? You hurt him.” Judith clamped her mouth shut.

  “How do you tell a man who writes you faithfully that you’ve fallen for his best friend, and worse yet, how do you tell him you’ve, you’ve…”

  “Got your point there. But still…”

  “I should have written him. I know there’s no excuse.”

  “Sit down, Margaret. Can I get you anything?”

  “Some tea would be nice.”

  Judith poured boiling water into a china teapot.

  “That’s beautiful. Is it yours?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes, it was my mother’s. She gave it to me for our wedding.”

  “When is your wedding?”

  “It’s been postponed.”

  “Why?” Margaret’s gaze met Judith’s. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I didn’t know.”

  “Your timing could use some work.”

  Margaret plopped her swollen feet up on the chair next to her. “You are so right. Seriously, I am sorry to have ruined your plans. Jackson says we can go west and build a home.”

  “Plenty of land around here.” Judith clamped her mouth shut again. Why did she offer that?

  “Jackson is hoping to find work in the area and move west after the baby is born. I don’t mind telling you, I’m frightened. I know what we did was wrong, and we’re paying for that, but I feel it would have been just as wrong to marry Rylan. He’s a good man, but…”

  Judith grinned. “What you feel for Jackson isn’t the same as what you felt for Rylan.”

  “Exactly. It didn’t start out that way. The first year Jackson would just check in on me, see how I was faring, that kind of thing. But then we started to talk and talk, and things just escalated from there. For a year I’ve been trying to write Rylan and tell him what happened. For a year, Jackson refused to marry me until I told Rylan about us. Then it happened. We announced our engagement and married before my parents could notice my condition. When they found out…” She shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

  “Judith,” Rylan called.

  She handed Margaret a cool, damp cloth. “In the kitchen.”

  “Judith, Jackson and Margaret will be staying with us for a little while.” Us. Her heart raced.
<
br />   “All right. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll see you later.” Judith stepped toward the door to leave.

  “Hang on, Judith, we need to talk. Excuse us, Jackson, Margaret.” Rylan gently grabbed Judith’s elbow, led her up the stairs to one of the spare rooms, and closed the door. “I’m sorry, this isn’t the way a newly married couple should live, but they’re in trouble.”

  “Real trouble.” She sighed.

  “What did she tell you?” he asked, sitting on a chair.

  “That she’s with child.”

  “Yeah, Jackson told me about their relationship before and after they married. I’d like to wring the man’s neck, but he’s done enough of that to himself. He’s skin and bones from worry.”

  “I imagine so. Is her father that cruel of a man?”

  “I’ve heard rumors to that effect. I know some fathers do it, but I can’t imagine throwing out your own child like that.”

  “Me, either.”

  “Judith?” He captured her hand and pulled her toward himself. “We can do a couple of different things here. We could get the parson to come over after the service tomorrow. Or we could go and see him tonight. In either case, I want to take you away from here. For a day or two, I want it to be just you and me. Helping Jackson and Margaret is going to take a lot of patience and a whole lot of God’s grace, but I want us to start our marriage on our own. Just you and me. What do you say?”

  “I say you’re the most wonderful man in the world, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  He pulled her into his embrace. “Marry me, Judith, and make me the happiest man alive.”

  “You silly oaf, of course I’ll marry you. How about tonight?”

  Rylan groaned and captured her lips. “Tonight’s just fine, my love. Let’s get word to your parents, the parson, the entire town!”

  Judith chuckled. “In a minute. I’d like another moment with you all to myself.”

  Rylan picked her up and carried her down the stairs. “Don’t you have this wrong?”

  “No, ma’am, we’re doing it right. First the marriage, then the threshold. I’m just practicing the carrying part.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Epilogue

  September 1858

  Come on, honey, the fair is going to start without us,” Rylan called up to his wife.

  “Hold your horses.”

  He roared. “That’s the problem—they want to win again.”

  “Tell them to behave themselves or I won’t be giving them sugar tomorrow.”

  Rylan smiled as he watched his wife descend their stairway. “I hope you and your mom made the black raspberry tea again. I know I’ll have a powerful thirst today.”

  “More than you know. Sit down, Rylan. I need to make a cup of tea.”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine—nothing a few months won’t take care of.”

  Rylan gazed down toward his wife’s stomach. “You mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ye-ha!” He grabbed her into his arms and twirled her around. She paled. “Oh, sorry. Can I get you anything? Sit down. Honey, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Judith smiled. “Crackers, dry crackers would be nice. At least that’s what Mother said would help.”

  “Honey, we can stay home if you’re not up to it,” Rylan offered.

  “No, you’ve been working that team too hard not to let them compete. Besides, I like watching the way your muscles play on your back. It was the first thing that attracted me to you.”

  “It wasn’t my winning personality, huh?”

  “Nope, pure physical attraction.”

  Rylan roared again. “Don’t ever change, my love. I love you just the way you are. Pure, honest, and straight to the point. God’s blessed us.”

  “Yes, and I’m so glad Jackson and Margaret are in their own place now.”

  “Me, too. Your father is amazing with numbers. The town will benefit from the new bank he’s organizing.”

  “I pray it remains stable.”

  “It will; he won’t make the same mistakes.”

  Rylan pulled her into his arms.

  “I love you, Judith. Thank you for becoming my wife and the mother of our children.”

  “I love you, too, Rylan. You’re right, I fit into life here much better than I ever did back east.”

  He kissed her, a kiss that spoke volumes in commitment and love. Life was definitely better…after the harvest.

  A pastor’s wife from North Miami Beach, Florida, LYNN A. COLEMAN is the president of the American Christian Romance Writers and enjoys helping authors achieve their writing goals.

  Love Notes

  by Mary Davis

  Dedication

  To my hubby, Chip, who has given me

  a greater appreciation for the musical note.

  And to JoDee for sparking an idea in me.

  And the King shall answer and say unto them,

  Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it

  unto one of the least of these my brethren,

  ye have done it unto me.

  MATTHEW 25:40

  Chapter 1

  Texas, 1910

  Bang! Bang!

  Laurel jumped up from the edge of the hotel bed and rushed to the open window.

  Several people ran in the dusty street toward the bank next door. “Jonathan Rivers tried to rob the bank!” one of them shouted.

  “Pa?” She gasped and stumbled over the packed carpetbags at the end of the bed on her way to the door. Holding up her skirt, she ran out of the hotel and to the bank. The crowd packed outside made it impossible to see inside. “Excuse me.” She wedged her way between shoulders, excusing herself repeatedly then finally spilling inside the bank entrance.

  A man lay stretched out on the floor, his head covered with a gray coat, his clothes familiar. “Pa.” Someone touched her arm, and she spun, looking into the sheriff’s ruddy face.

  “I’m sorry, miss.”

  “No, no.” Tears fell as she dropped to her knees and reached a shaky hand toward the coat that covered the dead man.

  “Laurel, don’t.” Ethan sat against the counter, Doc Benson tending to his bloody arm.

  She lifted the wool fabric from the face. “Oh, Pa.”

  He’d said to pack and wait for him. They were leaving today. She smoothed the hair off his forehead. The worry lines that had deepened the longer Pa had stayed in Hollow Springs were all but erased.

  She had prayed for Pa to turn back to the love and acceptance the Lord Jesus was waiting to give him and to find peace in Ma’s death. Had he died before he found it?

  Covering her face, she wept.

  The strain of the past two days lay heavy on Laurel’s shoulders as the pungent

  smell of the disturbed earth filled her nostrils. She stood with only the minister and the sheriff for company beside Pa’s freshly turned grave, tears cascading down her cheeks. She dabbed them away with Ma’s lavender embroidered handkerchief, but they were quickly replaced. The sheriff brooded under his bushy red eyebrows, his squinting eyes almost hidden. Had he come to see for himself that Pa was no longer trouble for him? Or did he wonder if she would be trouble, as well?

  She turned the events of what must have happened that day over in her mind as she had done many times in the past forty-eight hours. Pa had told her to pack, knowing what he was about to do. He’d gone to the bank and pulled out a gun. Where in the world had Pa gotten a gun? She shook her head. Then the sheriff must have shot him, but not before Pa had wounded Ethan.

  The breeze tousled Minister Howard’s sandy hair as he spoke his final words and closed his Bible. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.” He hesitated as though he wanted to say more then gave her a nod and left with the sheriff.

  She didn’t blame the residents of Hollow Springs for not wanting to share her sorrow. Why would they want to show support to the daughter of a bank robber?

  I’m just seventeen. What
am I to do? She dropped to her knees, sobbing. “Why, Pa?” He’d caused a great deal of trouble for a lot of people and now left her alone. She set a small bouquet of blue wildflowers on top of the raw dirt then looked away.

  Ethan Burke, in a suit and bowler, stood outside the cemetery’s low, wooden border fence, one arm cradled in a sling. Even he didn’t want to be near her. She averted her gaze, too ashamed to look at him after what Pa had done. She used to steal glances and catch him looking back. He would give her a smile or tip his hat, and when Pa wasn’t looking, she would smile back.

  Since Pa had given up going to church after they’d left Maryland, Laurel went by herself with Pa’s blessing, because Ma would have wanted her to continue attending church. Pa felt that if one of them went, it was as good as both.

  From the first Sunday, Ethan Burke took to walking her back to the hotel. They walked slowly. And last Sunday, he’d been waiting for her outside the hotel before church. Pa didn’t know until three days ago when Ethan insisted on asking Pa to court her. Pa wouldn’t talk about their conversation, but the next day… She closed her eyes in regret. Now all she saw when she looked at Ethan were the glaring results of Pa’s bad judgment. She peeked again, but Ethan was gone. She stood and looked around. He was nowhere to be seen.

  What had Pa been thinking? Robbing a bank? She shouldn’t have asked to stay in Hollow Springs; Pa had been agitated by her request. But she’d felt comfortable in this rustic little town—she hadn’t wanted to leave and had hoped hard to stay. Now she had no hope. And no choice. People in town wouldn’t talk to her or even look at her, yet she had no means to leave or live.

  She still didn’t understand Pa’s drive to get to California. Ma had wanted to live there, and Pa had kept promising, but they’d never made the move. Not until after Ma died did he get a bee in his britches about it. She’d lost Pa, too, the day Ma died. Her true Pa. He’d become a stranger almost overnight. The day after Ma’s funeral, he’d started selling everything they owned then bought a broken- down Ford. It hadn’t even made it to the first town on their trek to the opposite coast. Pa hadn’t been the same since.