The Lawman’s Frontier Bride

by Maya Stirling

  Gretchen helped Tate get things ready to leave. Soon they were back on the trail. Tate told her they'd probably find a homestead soon. He suggested that maybe they'd find a friendly welcome. Homesteaders could be helpful to strangers in need. Was that how he thought about her? That she needed the help of himself and any homesteaders they might come across? She considered objecting to the suggestion, but restrained the urge to do so. Instead, she focused all her energy and attention on the ride through the beautiful Montana countryside.

  Now that she was feeling slightly better, she could enjoy taking in the sight of the delightful rolling valleys, peaks of nearby ridges and distant mountains. The colors were breathtaking. Green grasslands and fields of colorful flowers made her eyes widen. Her senses seemed to come alive with the delicious scent of nearby flowers, and the bewildering variety of birdsong.

  On any other occasion, riding through a landscape like this alongside a handsome man like Tate would have been a pleasure. But, after what had happened with the two riders, she knew that such a sense of peace and contentment was deceptive. It would only take an unfortunate encounter to change everything, she told herself.

  Leaning on the pommel of her saddle, Gretchen held her reins tightly in her hands. Glancing across at Tate, she told herself that she was safe in his hands. And for that she was grateful. It was still a long ride to Inspiration, but he'd already proven more than capable of looking after her.

  Truly, she said to herself, her Lord had been gracious in providing a protector like Tate.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  In the early evening twilight they crested a ridge and Tate drew his mount to a halt. Gretchen stopped alongside him.

  Tate pointed down into the valley. "I told you we'd find a homestead."

  Gretchen peered down into the valley. Tate wondered what she was making of the sight a few hundred yards away. It was probably the first homestead she'd seen. And, from where Tate was sitting, this one looked like one which had been well-worked. Nestling in the middle of the flat of the valley, the homestead consisted of a single cabin, a small stable, a barn, two corrals, an outhouse, and numerous patches of cultivated rows of what looked like vegetable. He saw a cow wandering out back of the cabin. Two horses stood in one of the corrals. Tate saw some hogs penned up in an enclosure.

  It looked like every homestead he'd ever seen. This one was clearly occupied, judging by the steady trail of smoke rising from the chimney on the shingle-covered roof. It was no sod-house, that was for sure. The cabin looked well cared for and well constructed.

  Gretchen didn't say anything as she gazed down into the valley. She just leaned heavily against her saddle. Her shoulders were hunched and Tate could see beads of sweat again on her forehead. Her breathing was louder now. They hadn't had a chance to stop before now. Tate was glad they'd had the good fortune to come across the homestead. He knew Gretchen's subdued reaction was due to the fact that she was tired. Maybe she was feeling sick again. She'd been quiet for the last hour.

  "Let's go and see if they'll give us a bed for the night," Tate said.

  "What!" Gretchen exclaimed, suddenly animated. She peered at him. "You want us to stay here?"

  Tate fixed her with a steady look. "You need a good nights rest, Gretchen. I'm sure those folks down there will understand."

  "Can't we do what we did last night?"

  Tate shook his head firmly. "No. Even if we have to sleep in their barn, we need a roof over our head." Tate lifted his head up to the darkening sky, "Or haven't you noticed."

  He saw Gretchen lift her head and gaze up at the cloud-filled sky. Tate had watched with concerns for the last hour as the sky had become overcast. He could feel the drop in temperature and knew it probably meant rain was coming. He had his slicker, and he figured he and Gretchen might be able to find shelter in a forest. But it would be wet and dangerous, especially given Gretchen's current condition. He wasn't going to take a chance with her health.

  "Let's go," Tate said and flicked his reins. As Gretchen followed alongside him, he saw her sway slightly in the saddle. He was in no doubt now. She needed to be beneath the shelter of a roof tonight.

  They rode down into the valley and along the narrow dirt trail which led into the yard in front of the cabin. As they drew their horses to a halt in the yard, the door to the cabin opened. A man stepped out and halted on the porch. Tate judged the man was in his thirties, possibly slightly older than Tate himself. The man's dark brows furrowed and he stepped off the porch, eyeing the newcomers warily.

  The man was squat and broad shouldered. He looked like he was used to hard physical labor. His features were wide and there was a cautious look written on them. The man was dressed in plain jeans and a patterned plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Tate noted the steady stride of the man's dirt-covered boots. There was no fear in the man's demeanor. Merely a cautious concern.

  "Howdy," Tate said in his brightest voice.

  The man nodded. "You traveling through?" he asked. It wasn't the first question Tate had hoped the man would ask. Before he had a chance to reply, Gretchen coughed. She leaned forward on the saddle, lowering her head, trying to contain the cough.

  Tate saw the man's brows furrow as he watched Gretchen's efforts at controlling her coughing fit. The man strode forward to Gretchen's pinto. He rested a hand on the pinto's side and looked up at Gretchen. "Are you sick, ma'am?" he asked.

  Gretchen shook her head. "I'm fine," she said and peered into the man's eyes.

  "We've been traveling all day. I think she's tired," Tate explained. He ignored Gretchen's sharp look in his direction.

  Tate reached a hand down. "My name is Tate Campbell. And this is Gretchen."

  The homesteader slowly lifted his hand and shook Tate's hand. "Noah Haas."

  Another figure emerged from inside the cabin. The woman, dressed in a dark brown gingham gown strode out across the yard. "Noah? Who are these people?" she asked. Tate thought the woman sounded nervous.

  The homesteader turned and faced the woman who Tate assumed to be Noah's wife. "This young woman, Gretchen is her name, seems to be needing some shelter."

  From the sky above came the boom of distant thunder. The woman glanced up at the dark sky and frowned. She halted at her husband's side and peered up at Gretchen.

  As if sensing the scrutiny, Gretchen tried to smile. Tate saw the effort it took for her to do that. "It's nothing really. Just a chill. Tate and I slept outdoors, last night. And it was colder than I'm used to."

  Those words uttered breathlessly, Gretchen slumped forward. Tate leaped from his horse and raced around to catch her in case she fell. Noah and his wife held Gretchen as she lolled in the saddle.

  Tate could see the concern written on the woman's face. With the help of both homesteaders, Tate eased Gretchen down from the pinto. She stood unsteadily, leaning against Tate. He wrapped his arm around her waist, wondering, for a moment, what the homesteading couple must think about how he and Gretchen were related. Now wasn't the time to start explaining anything, Tate told himself as he felt the first drop of rain strike his cheek.

  "We must get her inside," Noah's wife declared. Tate had to agree. As he walked Gretchen across the yard, she stumbled once. Tate tightened his hold on her. Noah and his wife peered concernedly at Gretchen. Walking through the open cabin door, Tate heard another rumble of thunder shake the air.

  Noah closed the door. "Over here, Tate," he instructed, pointing to a long sofa against the wall to Tate's right. He didn't pay attention to the interior of the cabin. Or to the other two small occupants kneeling by the roaring fireplace.

  Tate gently lowered Gretchen onto the sofa. He was shocked to see how pale she looked. But at least the coughing had stopped.

  Riding on the trail during the afternoon, out in the bright sunlight, he hadn't realized the change which had come over her. Now, though, he could see her condition had worsened. That was often the way with sickness on the trail. It ebbed and flowed like the tide.<
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  "My name is Anna," the woman said as she arranged a pillow behind Gretchen's head. Tate nodded in acknowledgment and watched Anna touch Gretchen's forehead. Anna's brows furrowed with concern. Anna had even features and startlingly green eyes. Her blonde hair was tied back in a bun. "I will fetch some water." She made her way to the kitchen area on the other side of the room.

  From behind Tate, Noah spoke. "I will put your horses in our stable," he announced.

  Not wanting to leave Gretchen's side even for a moment, Tate was grateful. "Thank you."

  It looked like he and Gretchen weren't going to be thrown out into the rain. In any case, this couple looked too kindly to do anything like that, Tate told himself.

  Tate heard two quiet voices and turned. A young boy and girl stood next to Anna. Each was probably around eight or nine years old, Tate guessed. The girl, dressed in a green gingham dress, shared the same even features and blonde locks as her mother. The boy, wearing jeans and plaid shirt, was stocky and dark haired, just like his father.

  Anna paused in front of the stove and placed a hand on the shoulder of each of the children. She smiled at Tate and there was visible pride on her features. "This is Nathaniel. And this is Jane." Anna gestured toward Tate and Gretchen. "Children. These people are our guests. And the lady isn't well for now. She needs rest. So you both will have to be on your best behavior. That means quiet," Anna said. The children looked up at their mother and nodded obediently.

  When they looked back at Tate he could see puzzlement on their faces. Tate smiled. "Pleased to meet you all," he said, trying to sound good-natured.

  Tate glanced around the interior of the cabin. It felt comfortable, even homely in spite of its simplicity. The fireplace cast a warm glow across the plain wood paneled walls decorated with colorful drawings he assumed must have been done by the children. In the middle of the room there was a long wooden table and four chairs. The kitchen was an alcove set behind a small wooden screen. There was a stove and shelves. He could see food already cooking in the pot sitting on the stove. The floor was covered by a thick rug which didn't quite cover its entirety. He could see a circular patch of bare earth in front of the fireplace. Someone had once told him that was for safety, in order to prevent sparks from setting light to anything near the fireplace. At the end of the room there were two closed doors. Tate figured those must be the family's bedrooms.

  Briefly, he wondered where Gretchen could sleep. As far as he was concerned, he could quite happily sleep on the floor, or even the sofa. He didn't doubt that Noah and Anna would come up with a solution. They seemed genuinely good-hearted. After the earlier encounter with the riders, Tate was relieved to be in the company of decent folk again. It had been a long time since he'd felt this welcome.

  He heard Gretchen sigh and turned to look at her. She was staring around the room, as if she was surprised to find herself inside the cabin. "What happened?"

  "Nothing. You're inside the homestead, now. That's all you need to know."

  "And I'm bringing you some chicken soup," Anna called out from the kitchen alcove.

  Gretchen glanced at Anna and then peered quizzically at Tate, but he didn't offer an explanation. Gretchen sat up and wiped her brow.

  Thunder echoed from outside the cabin. Tate grinned. "That's what these kind folks saved us from."

  Gretchen's eyes widened as if she realized how close she and Tate had come to being stranded in the storm. "What are we going to do?" she murmured.

  "You are both going to stay here," Anna announced as she started to ladle out the soup from the pot into a plate.

  "Are you sure we're not causing you any inconvenience," Gretchen said.

  Anna looked puzzled by that for a moment. Then she shook her head. "The Lord has placed you in our care so that you'll both be safe from the storm. That's all that matters. It is our duty to respond," Anna explained. She made her way to the table and laid the soup plate down on it. "We don't often get visitors in these parts. Mostly its other homesteaders who come calling." She laughed. "And that's usually when they need to borrow a plough or need a helping hand back at their own place." Anna drew out the chair and gestured toward it. "Come, Gretchen. Sit down. Eat."

  Obediently, Gretchen stood and walked to the table. She sat down and smiled up at Anna. "It smells wonderful," Gretchen said and lifted the spoon. When she tasted the soup Tate saw Gretchen's eyes widen with appreciation.

  Anna walked back to the kitchen alcove. "There's nothing like the healing properties of chicken soup." Glancing at the door, she added. "Ask my husband. Speaking of which, how long is he going to be out there?" As Anna started toward the door Tate stood and strode to it. Pulling it open he gazed outside. Over by the stable he saw Noah closing the double doors. There was no sign of Tate and Gretchen's horses. Nor the horses from the corral. Noah had been busy. The wind and rain whipped against Tate's face.

  Anna peered over Tate's shoulder. "He's coming in. Close the door," she instructed Tate. As he did so Tate reflected on the fact that Anna seemed to be completely in control of everything which went on in the homestead.

  Anna pointed to the table. "You sit there, Tate. I'll get you some soup."

  Tate sat across from Gretchen. She still seemed tired and her face was as pale as he'd seen it earlier. But, judging by the hint of brightness in her eyes, at least she was enjoying the food. Anna placed the plate of soup on the table. Tate spooned the soup into his mouth and groaned with pleasure. It was delicious. He nodded to Anna, who seemed pleased. The door flew open and Noah strode into the cabin. Closing the door behind him he looked at Tate and Gretchen sitting at the table. Noah said nothing. He just nodded as if he wouldn't have expected his wife to do anything else except make the newcomers feel welcome.

  As he ate the soup, Tate reflected on the fact that he and Gretchen had had two close calls that day. First by avoiding a gunfight with the riders. And now being rescued by the rainstorm. He thought about the Bible he'd bought Gretchen back at the town. He'd seen how much it had meant to her. And he'd heard her talk about her faith. About how she believed that God was on her side at all times. That he was protecting her. Guiding her.

  Glancing across at Gretchen, Tate figured she might be right, after all. They'd been delivered from evil and danger today. Maybe they would make it to Inspiration, after all.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  In spite of her protests, soon after a delicious dinner had been shared by everyone, Noah and Anna insisted on giving Gretchen one of the beds in the children's room. Noah and Tate moved one of the single beds into the parents' room, leaving the other for Gretchen's use. Nathaniel and Jane didn't utter a word of complaint as they watched the two men lifting the single bed out of their shared room. Tonight they'd be sleeping in their parent's room, and they seemed quite happy with that. From that one thing, Gretchen could tell that Anna and Noah had done a fine job bringing up their children. They'd taught them the value of patience, and obedience.

  Maybe it wasn't the first time such arrangements had been made, Gretchen had reflected. In any case, they seemed happy to share the other room with Anna and Noah. When she saw how cramped it was in the other room, Gretchen felt bad. But it seemed there was no way to stand in the way of the kindness of the homesteaders.

  Tate took the sofa. He seemed content to be facing the prospect of a nights sleep on it. As she'd made her way into the bedroom, just before closing the door, Gretchen had glanced back at the huddled form of Tate on the sofa. His huge bulk made the sofa look tiny as he struggled to get comfortable covered with a single blanket. When he'd grinned at her, and rolled his eyes, she'd even been tempted to laugh.

  Gretchen awoke many times during the night. Her fever came and went, sweeping through her like the ebb and flow of the tide. All through the night, she heard the wind pushing against the small window. It was cold in the room, but she'd been given an extra blanket and that had helped her stay comfortable.

  Twice in the middle of the night, Anna had ease
d quietly into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Upon seeing Gretchen's ongoing difficulties, Anna had brought cups of water for Gretchen.

  Finally, on her third visit to watch over Gretchen, Anna had decided she would remain in Gretchen's room. "Just to keep an eye on you," Anna had explained.

  She'd sat in a chair in the corner. By the light of a small candle, Anna had sat and read to Gretchen from the Bible. Lying in the bed, dressed only in her undergarment, Gretchen had listened to Anna's gentle voice and felt a great calm come upon her. Memories of how her mother had read the Bible to her came flooding into Gretchen's mind. Peace filled Gretchen's spirit as she listened to the inspiring words from Scripture.

  Sometime later, during the night, with the sound of Anna's voice sweeping around her as if in a dream, Gretchen had drifted off to sleep.

  When she awoke, she was alone in the room. The sun was shining in through the small window. Gretchen took a few moments to review how she felt. Better, but still not fully recovered, she concluded. Her muscles ached less than yesterday, and she was sure her fever had gone down. The chicken soup had worked its wonders, she reflected as she sat up in bed. Or perhaps it had been the wonderful words from the Bible. Probably both, she told herself as she slid out of bed.

  Conscious that she was dressed only in her undergarments, she quickly put on her blouse and riding skirt and prepared to step out into the cabin's main living space. Through the closed door she could hear the sounds of Anna and the children talking. Gretchen inhaled the aroma of what she assumed was breakfast.

  She opened the door. Half-expecting to see Tate seated at the table, or sitting on the sofa waiting for her, she felt a keen disappointment when she discovered he wasn't in the cabin. Instead she saw Nathaniel and Jane seated at the table, apparently waiting for their breakfast to be served judging by the way they were both holding their knives and forks and gazing eagerly across at the kitchen alcove. Nathaniel and Jane smiled at Gretchen as she emerged from the room. Their room, she reminded herself.