“I have an idea. I'll hide near the bunkhouse when the men leave to guard the cattle. I’ll see whoever is leaving the signal."
"Good, and I'll hide in the barn in case you need any help," Elizabeth replied.
"No, you won't, Elizabeth. It’s far too dangerous. You’ll stay in the house. Keep an eye on Ma.” He watched her intently. “Tell me you will stay inside."
Elizabeth sighed. She had no intention of staying inside. Did he really think she would sit by and let him sacrifice himself for her? She didn’t want a heroically-dead husband. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Have children with.
She turned back to the stove. “Do you boys want breakfast?”
“We’ve eaten, ma’am.” Luke and Gabriel exchanged a look with Paul, then left.
Elizabeth poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Paul. Then she sat across from him at the kitchen table.
Paul took a sip and cleared his throat. "Are you sorry you left Chicago for this?"
“Sorry?” She took a sip from her own cup before answering. This was the first time he’d ever asked her a personal question. She took it as a sign that his heart was thawing out. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she was falling for him. But she didn’t want to risk spooking him into hiding behind his manners again. So she decided on a watered-down version of the truth.
“No Paul, I don't miss Chicago. I feel less lonely here than I ever did there.”
He looked glad to hear it. “I’d like you not to be lonely at all.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I didn’t just marry you because my mother wants grandchildren. I want a family too. A big one.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but why didn’t you have children with your first husband?”
“We tried. I tried. Richard...” How could she explain what had gone wrong with Richard when she didn’t really understand it herself? “Richard drank. Gambled. He only spent time with me when he needed help.”
And… “I didn’t love him enough to try harder.”
There. She’d said it.
Paul looked up from his coffee cup and caught her gaze. “It doesn’t sound like he was trying at all.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“I tried like crazy with Kimberly,” he continued. “For all the good it did me.”
“I’m so sorry that she broke your heart.”
He shrugged. “I never would have moved out here if she hadn’t. I’d be slaving away in a factory job, barely making ends meet.”
They drank the rest of their coffee in silence. Elizabeth wondered if Paul was brooding over Kimberly or the traitor they still had to catch.
She was about to take her cup to the washbasin when he asked, “If we have a boy, what’ll we name him?”
Elizabeth flushed and she felt her heart pick up its pace. “My father’s name was David.”
“Good name for a boy.” A wide smile spread slowly over Paul's face. Elizabeth's heart seemed to stop altogether for a moment. He was so handsome when he smiled.
Almost immediately the smile went away. “Our first girl will be named Maria.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth agreed. “I can’t imagine naming her anything else.”
Chapter Nine
Paul leaned against the wall and slid his feet into his boots, first one, then the other. He reached for his jacket, hanging on the hook near the door, with his good hand, and carefully slid his injured arm into the right sleeve. Once his bad arm was all the way in, he then tried to reach around behind himself to catch the hole for the other arm. Unable to shrug into the coat like he usually did, it took him three tries to get it on correctly. By the time he did, his head felt a little light.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Elizabeth asked, coming up from behind him.
“Catch the traitor,” he gasped.
“The sheriff can catch the traitor. You’re hurt.”
“If there’s fighting to be done, the sheriff will do it. But I need to be there to look the man who betrayed me in the eye and ask him why he did it.”
Paul’s determination must have shown in his face. “No fighting. You’ll stay out of it until he’s caught.”
“Of course. The sheriff’s hiding in the barn, so he can ambush the traitor as he leaves the bunkhouse.”
“Promise me,” Elizabeth insisted.
He suddenly flashed on the image of her this morning, her braid disheveled and her face soft and pink from sleep. He pushed the image away with a shake of his head—this was a bad time for a distraction.
“I promise.”
“Pray with me before you go.”
She looked so worried, he relented. “Quickly.”
She took his good hand in her cool fingers. “Lord, please keep my husband safe as he confronts the man who’s been helping the rustlers, and bring him back to me in one piece.”
“Amen.” On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
She blinked in surprised. But then she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. “Good luck.”
His men were just waking up after a short rest, getting ready to head out with the cattle again. As the ranch hands mounted their horses and set off, Paul noticed the candle flickering in a window of the bunkhouse-house. But if Paul remembered correctly, this was a different window than the one Elizabeth had mentioned before. Different windows must represent different pastures. The guilty ranch hand was using a code to let the rustlers know where the cattle would be. If Paul had any doubts that one of his own men had betrayed him, those doubts were gone now.
There was a road not far from his front gate, but how were the rustlers seeing the signal without being seen themselves? He considered the problem. One man could make his way around the edge of the yard around the house on foot, using the trees for cover to avoid detection.
Paul motioned for the sheriff to come out of his hiding place in the barn and take a position on the other side of the bunkhouse. Paul stood right around the corner, so he could see who came out.
For a moment Paul stood dumbfounded to see Lester come out the door. Lester, to whom Paul had given money to help pay for his father's care. Anger erupted inside him. He forgot all about waiting for the sheriff to arrest Lester. He approached Lester before the ranch hand could mount his horse.
"Lester!" Paul yelled.
Lester jumped and whirled around to face Paul. "You’ve been working with the rustlers? Why would you do this?"
Paul shook, trying to contain his frustration at this man he’d thought he could trust. Lester looked scared at first, but appeared to steel himself against Paul’s anger.
"The rustlers, they offered me a portion of the money they get from the cattle. My father needs to see a specialist in New York." Lester looked grim and defiant.
Where was the sheriff? He should have jumped out of the barn by now. He glanced over his shoulder without thinking.
“Oh, I took care of Eisley,” Lester sneered. “Hog-tied him and stuffed him in the loft. I figured you were onto me when Luke changed the herd’s location at the last minute.”
“Sheriff’s not the only one backing me up,” Paul bluffed. Did Lester know that Eisley’s deputies were all waiting with the herd, just in case their theory had been wrong?
Lester lunged at Paul, throwing a punch. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Paul ducked just in time and grabbed Lester around the waist with his good arm, pinning him to the wall of the bunkhouse. Lester flailed, slamming his elbow down on Paul’s injured shoulder. A bolt of agony speared through him, almost as bad as the pain the bullet had caused him. Paul dropped to his knees, moaning.
Lester laughed. Then, the click of a revolver being cocked. Paul braced himself for the end. The thought of Elizabeth first thing in the morning rose up in Paul’s mind again, and this time he feared he’d seen that beautiful sight for the last time.
He heard a loud thwack and a scr
eam. Lester went limp and fell to the ground beside him.
“Much obliged, Sher—“ Paul froze and stared up at Elizabeth, who clutched a shovel with both hands. She was breathing hard, probably from the exertion of clubbing Lester in the head. She looked wild. And strong. And so beautiful.
But she’d disobeyed him.
“You said you were going to stay with Ma, where it was safe.”
“No, you said I was.” Elizabeth drove the shovel into the dirt and leaned on it. “Besides, you said you were going to let the sheriff handle the traitor.”
“Lester got to Eisley first. He knew we were onto him.”
“That’s Lester?”
Paul nodded.
Elizabeth prodded the man she’d knocked unconscious with her slippered toe. “Let’s tie him up before he wakes up. You get the rope, I’ll stand guard.”
Stand guard. What kind of woman had he married?
The kind who takes care of the people she loves. No matter what it takes.
Paul struggled to his feet, wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist, and pulled her close for a passionate kiss. She smelled like lavender. She tasted like Heaven. He’d never felt so much love for a woman before. Not even Kimberly.
Paul pulled away from Elizabeth, catching his breath. Elizabeth gasped, her cheeks aflame. Paul felt dazed as he stared deeply into Elizabeth’s honey-brown eyes. She seemed to be fighting back tears and her lips quivered with a tremulous smile.
He realized that Elizabeth was the partner he had always wanted.
“So,” she said, looking up at him all dewy-eyed. “Are you going to get that rope or am I?”
Chapter Ten
A sweet smile graced Elizabeth's features as she leaned back in the porch swing and placed a hand on her bulging stomach. She shuddered with excitement at the promise of the new life inside her. Elizabeth sighed contentedly as a warm breeze played with the tendrils of her long brown hair. Her thoughts drifted seamlessly into prayers of thankfulness, as they often did these days.
When Lester had woken up, he’d turned on his rustler friends, and Paul had recovered the stolen cattle. Peace reigned in their lives and their hearts. Paul’s and Elizabeth's relationship had slowly grown, just as their family had grown.
Elizabeth looked over to the other side of the porch where Maria sat, a healthy light in her eyes and a glow on her cheeks. She was rocking David, her first grandchild. The baby had Paul's lush black hair and bright blue eyes. Elizabeth’s heart swelled near to bursting with love for her little one as she listened to Maria crooning an old lullaby to the infant.
The front door swung open and Paul stepped out carrying with two cups of tea. He placed one cup next to his mother and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Then he turned to Elizabeth, and in his eyes Elizabeth saw tenderness and deep joy. She had never been this happy in her life, and she never would have thought she could be so blessed.
Elizabeth briefly closed her eyes as she had seen Paul do so often, and sent another prayer of gratitude to God for providing her with this home, this man, this family.
Paul gazed intently into her eyes as he walked toward her and handed her the other tea cup. He eased himself onto the bench beside Elizabeth and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. After planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head, he drew Elizabeth closer. She responded by snuggling her head into his shoulder.
"I never thought Mother would recover. You've been good for her."
"She has her grandchildren to live for now."
"I never thought. . . When we met. . ." Paul's voice trailed off. Elizabeth looked up into his eyes and put a hand on his chest.
"You never thought what?"
"I never thought I would fall in love with you." Paul glanced down at his boots before meeting Elizabeth's eyes again. Elizabeth gave Paul’s arm a squeeze and nestled her head on his shoulder again. Paul pulled away slightly and Elizabeth looked up to see worry furrow his brow.
"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.
"If you're still in love with your first husband, I would understand. This was meant to be a marriage of convenience," Paul replied, his body suddenly tense.
Elizabeth drew her face slowly up to his and softly kissed his stubbly cheek.
"I was never in love with him," Elizabeth whispered, caressing Paul's face. "I've never loved anyone but you."
A sneak peek at Winning the Doctor’s Heart, book 3 in the Mail-Order Brides of Salvation series:
Chapter 1
Ow! Anne Schroeder rubbed the top of her head with one hand and grabbed the edge of her seat with the other as the hansom jostled down First Avenue. She tried not to think about how the ride would end. She owed it to Cynthia not to ruin her first day of nursing school by moping. But she couldn’t help feeling like she was losing her best friend.
Cynthia laughed with excitement and put her arm around Anne’s shoulders. “Think on the bright side. If the cab turns over, we’re already headed to the hospital.”
“I’ll be your first patient.” Anne forced a smile. “Here we come, Bellevue.”
Cynthia sobered. “If only there’d been two scholarships—“
“But there weren’t, and you won. You’re going to be the best nurse ever. I’m happy for you.” Anne tried to mean it. She loved Cynthia.
But losing that scholarship had meant saying goodbye to her dream of becoming a nurse. She’d never save up enough for tuition on a tutor’s wages. No, she was doomed to spend the rest of her life watching over privileged brats like Master Arnold and Miss Geraldine. Unless she took matters into her own hands.
“I’d always thought we’d be going together.” Cynthia hooked her arm through Anne’s. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“I’ll follow you. Next year.” She didn’t believe it, but she didn’t want Cynthia to feel guilty.
“I’ll introduce you to all the handsome young doctors,” Cynthia promised. “No, even better, to all the rich, old ones. As a doctor’s wife, you’ll have no problem getting into the program.”
That was Cynthia, always finding the silver lining. Her cheery disposition had made her the most popular girl at the orphanage where they’d both been raised. When other girls were adopted, Cynthia encouraged the rest to celebrate. When Headmistress Blevins doled out extra chores, Cynthia was the first to volunteer. And when Anne had set her sights on becoming a nurse, Cynthia had been the first to tell her she could do it.
Anne patted her best friend’s hand. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ve been making other plans.”
“Other plans?”
Anne stared at the dirty, threadbare carpet beneath her feet. How was Cynthia going to take the news? Would she feel betrayed? Or would she try to be happy for Anne, just like Anne was trying to be happy for Cynthia?
“Anne.” Her friend fixed her with a steely glare. “We’re almost there. Tell me.”
“I’ve been corresponding with a man from Te—”
“Anne Marie, no!” Cynthia’s hazel eyes went wide. “A mail-order bride? Moving halfway across the country? To live with a man you’ve never met?”
“Kenneth is a good man. He’s been writing me for six months.”
“You can’t tell if a man is good from a few letters.”
“That’s exactly what he said. That’s why he sent me character references.”
Cynthia’s eyebrows shot up. “Character references?”
“One of them was from the minister of his church. Minister Rowland says—“
“How do you know the letter was from a minister? Anyone could have written that so-called character reference.”
Anne tugged on the hem of her bodice before turning to face her friend. “Cynthia, I have nothing.”
“You have me.”
For now. But… “Your life is going to change. I want a change too. Be happy for me.”
“Happy—that you’re going to marry a man you barely know. A man you cannot possibly love.”
“Happy that I’m going to
have a family. Children of my own. If I can’t be a nurse, that’s what I want.”
Cynthia sighed and dabbed at her eyes with a kerchief she pulled from her reticule. “Tell me about Kenneth.”
“He’s a sheriff’s deputy. He’s been saving up for some land, wants to settle down.”
“This is what you really want?”
“I hear there’s a real need for doctors and nurses out West. Once you’re trained, you could come visit me. Maybe you’d even like it enough to stay.”
Cynthia half-laughed, half-sobbed. “You know how I freckle.”
“I’ll lend you my parasol.” Anne hugged her best friend.
“Aren’t you frightened?” Cynthia asked once she had her tears under control.
“Of course I am. But I’m more frightened of what my life will become if I stay here.”
“He proposed?”
“Not yet.” It was much too early for that, Anne was sure. “But…I think he might be falling for me.”
Anne wasn’t a foolish child, to dream of love at first sight. But if Kenneth was as respectful and kind as he seemed in his letters, she had no doubt the affection she felt for him would mature into the kind of warm regard that might support a marriage.
Of course, he might turn out to be horrible. Then she’d be stranded in a strange place, no friends to turn to, completely dependent on her new husband.
The cab jolted to a stop in front of Bellevue Hospital. The driver rapped sharply on the roof. “Fare, ladies.”
Cynthia hugged Anne fiercely. “Swear you won’t leave without telling me.”
Anne laughed and hugged her friend back. “You’re going to be late for your first day of class.”
She watched as Cynthia paid the driver, then passed through the open wrought-iron gate in her white apron and nurse’s cap. That should have been me.
Winning The Rancher's Heart (Mail-Order Brides of Salvation 2) Page 4