Christine Johnson

by The Marriage Barter

  “Why do you care?” She summoned the courage to add, “Because your Margaret hurt you?”

  The pause made her heart pound. Did he resent her prying? Or was he just like Charles, clinging to the past?

  At last he answered. “Love can be cruel.”

  Though he didn’t tell her exactly what had happened, she could imagine. A young man off to war. Wyatt would have been around twenty, perhaps younger, if he’d joined early in the conflict.

  “The war?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “She didn’t wait.”

  His jaw tightened. “It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. War changes a man.”

  Enough to give him nightmares.

  “I’m sorry.” Her whisper belied the thudding of her heart against her ribs. Dare she tell him her heartache and dashed hopes?

  “It doesn’t matter.” His voice was cold, devoid of the emotion that had been there moments before. “The past is done. I should never have asked you to tell me about your late husband. I won’t ever again.” He took a deep breath. “Tomorrow, everything will be settled. You’ll have your daughter.”

  And he will leave us.

  “You’re a good mother,” Wyatt added.

  Mother. Not wife, though they were bound to each other for life. No man would sing to her like Solomon to his beloved. No man would hold her in his arms. No man would gaze into her eyes like Mason did to Holly. All she would ever have was her daughter. She lowered her head to hide her quivering lip.

  Sasha should have been enough, but she wanted more. She wanted what she could not have. She wanted a real marriage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After last night’s encounter with Charlotte, Wyatt couldn’t wait to get out of the house. She acted like everything was the same, even served him the same bacon, eggs and potatoes for breakfast; but they both knew something dangerous had happened in the moonlight.

  He’d felt that spark when he touched her shoulder. He’d wanted to protect her, to comfort her, to be everything her late husband hadn’t been, to make a family with Sasha. But it wouldn’t work. Last night’s nightmares proved he couldn’t escape the past in Evans Grove.

  “You should have seen Liam at Mason and Holly’s wedding.” Charlotte chattered away while she dished up breakfast. “The boy clearly adores Mason, but he had to act tough, like he didn’t care. I think he’s still trying to impress Mason, but I’m pretty sure Mason was impressed the moment Liam ran to town to tell him about the train robbery.” She paused, deep in memories. “If it hadn’t been for Liam, Evans Grove would have lost the money to rebuild, and the children might not have come here.”

  She smiled fondly at Sasha, but he could see the worry in her eyes. Today the judge would decide if any of the children had to go on to Greenville. He and Charlotte would also apply to adopt Sasha. That’d make any woman jittery. Probably why she didn’t stop talking.

  “Holly said she and Mason are going to officially adopt Liam. And then Patrick and Tom were taken. Isn’t it wonderful?” She didn’t pause long enough for him to answer. “That only leaves Heidi. Poor girl. That scarring frightens people. I’d take her, if...if I could manage.” She bit her lip in that pretty way she had when she was troubled.

  He wished he could assure her that all the orphans—even Heidi—could stay, but he didn’t have the proof to ensure Baxter wouldn’t press the matter. Nor could he predict how the judge would rule. He could only do his part.

  “Surely someone will take her in.” Charlotte dished the bacon-laden potatoes onto his plate. “She’s a dear child, just a little shy, which is completely understandable, seeing what she’s been through. I heard she was burned escaping her own home. Her parents died in that fire. It’s too awful to imagine.”

  Her words seared Wyatt, bringing back horrific memories. The screams. The flames. He steeled himself and desperately tried to change the subject. “I won’t ask the judge to send the children to Greenville.”

  Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “You won’t?”

  “I won’t.” The nightmarish memories receded. “I changed my mind after seeing how the community took in those kids.” He glanced at Sasha, well aware that she was one of those kids, but the little girl didn’t seem to know what he was talking about.

  Charlotte sank into her seat with a sigh of relief. “Then they’ll stay.”

  “We don’t know that,” he cautioned. “Greenville has a written agreement with the Orphan Salvation Society. Even if I don’t press the point, others might.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Who?”

  “The citizens of Greenville,” he hedged, since he still wasn’t sure of Baxter’s role. “They want those children real bad.”

  “But why? These children were passed over stop after stop. Greenville didn’t suffer from the storm that flooded our town. They didn’t lose children like we did. Why would they insist?”

  He gulped the scorching coffee, aware that she had come to the same conclusion he had. “I don’t know, and that’s what bothers me. It’s also why I think the kids should stay here.”

  “All of them?”

  He hated to admit just how far he’d come since he first arrived, but his gut told him this was where those children belonged. “At least the ones who have homes.”

  “But what will happen to Heidi and Jakob?”

  “Jakob?” Wyatt hadn’t heard that name before.

  “Heidi’s brother.” Her eyes sparked in a way that he’d come to recognize meant trouble for him. “Rebecca—Miss Sterling—told me that he was taken by a family in Iowa, but word came that he ran away. She thinks he’s trying to find Heidi, but he wouldn’t know that the train stopped in Evans Grove.” She waited expectantly.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’ve been thinking. You’re a tracker. You know how to find missing people. Maybe you could find him.”

  She looked so hopeful that he hated to dash her expectations, but as soon as the adoption came through, he was headed for San Francisco. He sure wasn’t going to look for some runaway.

  “I work for hire.” He didn’t figure that orphan society would fork over money to find one runaway boy.

  Charlotte jutted out her chin. “Then I’ll pay you.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. You need that money for Sasha.”

  The little girl’s eyes widened, and he realized he’d raised his voice to her mother.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, “but I won’t take another cent from you.”

  “Th-then maybe the town or the orphan society will hire you.”

  “I don’t work on maybes.” He scooped up a forkful of eggs.

  Her lips pressed into a frown, and he thought for a moment that she would rebuke him further. Maybe she would have if Sasha hadn’t sobbed.

  “Mama?” The plaintive voice cut deeper than any blade.

  Never argue in front of the children. His father had held strictly to that rule, though Wyatt had heard plenty through the walls of his parents’ bedchamber.

  He mustered a smile for little Sasha. “Would you like to visit Dusty later today?”

  Her face lit up.

  “If your mother agrees, maybe I can take you on a little ride.”

  Charlotte played along. “Isn’t that nice of Mr. Reed?”

  Mr. Reed. Despite their conversation last night, the formality remained. He should be pleased. That’s what he’d wanted. But somehow it didn’t sit right. Part of him wanted to be more than Mr. Reed.

  Yet that’s all he could ever be. He’d best remember it. A good woman didn’t need a man like him. Sooner or later his past would catch up to him. He’d almost told her too much last night. Best he break free while he could.

  He pushed away his plate and rose. “Got to be going.”

  “So soon?” A flicker of alarm crossed her face.

  “The law doesn’t wait.”

  Neither did Wyatt Reed. After grabbing his hat from the hook by the door, he walked out of Charlott
e Miller’s house. If all went as planned, he’d be a free man by sunset.

  * * *

  Wyatt’s departure put a lump in Charlotte’s throat. The moment she asked for anything, he bolted. Just like last night. Tender one moment and then distant the next. She’d almost spilled her heart to him, and he would have crushed it the way he did every request that didn’t benefit him. But that didn’t explain why he wouldn’t find Jakob. It made such perfect sense, but he’d looked like a cornered hare when she suggested it.

  She soothed Sasha, who’d burst into tears at his sudden departure. Only the promise of a horseback ride could calm her. Charlotte hoped Wyatt would keep his word, or she’d have one disappointed little girl tonight.

  If she still had Sasha at the end of the day.

  Though Wyatt said he wouldn’t oppose Evans Grove, he wouldn’t go so far as to say the children were safe. No, he seemed to expect the judge could send the orphans to Greenville. That could include Sasha. If the judge ruled that the Orphan Salvation Society’s agreement with Greenville excluded any placements in Evans Grove, then all the children would have to go.

  She had to do something. Sasha, Liam and the rest of the children must stay. She paced the room, tidying up after breakfast, but kept her mind devoted to the problem. A solution for the whole mess came to mind, but it would take Rebecca’s assistance. And that of Mason and Mr. Brooks.

  Trembling, she put on Sasha’s socks and shoes.

  “We need to visit Miss Sterling. Won’t that be nice? You can show her Katya’s new dress.” Charlotte felt for the orphan society agent, who was caught between her employer’s rules and her desire to keep the children in Evans Grove.

  Charlotte didn’t allow Sasha to dawdle. If the judge had arrived last night, then he’d open court this morning, perhaps as early as eight o’clock. Wyatt’s hasty departure led her to believe he expected an early hearing.

  They arrived at the schoolhouse, where Miss Sterling and Heidi were staying, while the dew still glistened on the grass.

  She rapped lightly on the door. Hearing no answer, she cracked it open and called for Rebecca. “It’s Charlotte Miller, uh, Reed.” She would have to get used to her new name.

  “Come in,” rang out Rebecca’s bell-like voice. “Is Sasha with you?”

  Charlotte’s stomach lurched. Today was the day that she was supposed to have given Sasha to Rebecca.

  “Mama? Hurt.”

  Charlotte looked down at her daughter and saw she was squeezing the little girl’s hand so tightly that Sasha’s fingertips had turned red. She loosened her grip, but she had no intention of losing either her daughter or her husband. If she could get Rebecca Sterling to agree to her plan, neither one would leave Evans Grove.

  “I have an idea,” she said breathlessly as she stepped into the hot schoolhouse.

  Rebecca sat in Holly’s chair, combing Heidi’s hair. The poor girl ducked her head away from Charlotte, self-conscious about the scars on her face. Sasha pulled free from Charlotte’s hold and showed Heidi her doll’s new dress. Bless little children. They didn’t see disfigurement, only playmates.

  “An idea about what?” Rebecca asked with a weak smile. The upcoming hearing must be wearing on her, too.

  Charlotte glanced around the otherwise empty room. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”

  Rebecca led her to the vestibule, where the students left their boots and coats in foul weather. Heidi and Sasha were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear if she and Rebecca spoke softly.

  Charlotte broached her worries first. “Mr. Brooks seems confident that Evans Grove will be able to keep the children. Has he told you exactly why? Is it something in the agreement?”

  Rebecca nodded. “The agreement with Greenville doesn’t name the prior stops. It only states that any available children may be selected. He believes that since the agreement doesn’t say exactly which cities were going to hold distributions, the addition of Evans Grove isn’t a breach of contract.”

  Charlotte breathed out a sigh of relief. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.” Rebecca worried her lip.

  Perhaps Charlotte could ease her mind on that. “I think Wyatt is wavering.”

  Rebecca gasped, and a hand fluttered to her throat. “Then he won’t press Greenville’s position to the judge?”

  “That’s what he told me. But he also said that Greenville might challenge his position.”

  “Then nothing has changed.”

  “Yes, it has.” Charlotte’s idea took hold. It was the perfect solution. “We don’t have to give up. Does the agreement say anything about who can take in the children?”

  Rebecca’s brow creased. “That decision is made by the selection committee.”

  “Which is made up of community members, correct?”

  Rebecca nodded hesitantly. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “If the worst happens, and the judge rules against us, what’s to stop those of us who took in the children from going to Greenville and applying again?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could, but the committee might prefer Greenville citizens.”

  “Not if half the committee is made up of those who favor our position.”

  Rebecca frowned. “How do you propose to accomplish that?”

  “How big does a committee have to be?”

  “Three to five, usually, though some have larger committees.”

  “Suppose it’s just three people. The Prairie Trust Bank of Nebraska has an office in Greenville, too. That means Mr. Brooks could be on that committee. Since Greenville is in the county, it falls under Sheriff Wright’s jurisdiction.”

  Rebecca’s brow furrowed. “It does? But isn’t Greenville larger than Evans Grove?”

  “Evans Grove is centrally located between Greenville and Newfield. The sheriff’s office has always been here, I suppose to make it easier for the sheriff to get around the county. So that means Mason could be the second committee member. We might even be able to convince Wyatt to serve.”

  At that, Rebecca’s eyebrows rose. “A tracker?”

  It was a bit of a stretch. Committee members were supposed to be upstanding citizens of the community. Wyatt didn’t quite fit into that category. She searched her brain for the rest of her argument. “You could urge them to apply for the committee. You could also tell everyone in Greenville what a fine job they did here. And then the children will have a say. When they see us, their parents, in Greenville, they’ll insist on going home.”

  Rebecca smiled softly. “It’s an interesting idea, and I hope you’re right, but it would be better for everyone if it never comes to that.” She sighed so wistfully as she looked at Heidi that Charlotte recalled the rest of her mission.

  “Remember when you told me about Jakob?”

  Rebecca brightened. “Have you heard news?”

  “I haven’t, but I got to thinking that finding him is something Wyatt could do. I asked him today at breakfast.”

  “He’ll do it?” Rebecca’s hope exploded into a smile.

  Charlotte bit her lip. “For a fee. Would your agency pay him to find Jakob?”

  Rebecca’s doubt returned. “I can wire New York. It’ll take time for a response. Do you think your husband would wait?”

  Husband. So he was. The good along with the bad. If Charlotte convinced him to take this job, she’d keep Wyatt here a little longer, perhaps long enough to discover what was paining him so, maybe even change his heart toward God and family. That had seemed impossible yesterday, but Charlotte couldn’t give up hope. Hadn’t he reversed his position on the orphans?

  “Leave that part to me. But if the Society won’t agree to hire him, we need an alternative. I think Mayor Evans could be convinced.” Her mind whirled with plans. She had to get this in place before the judge gave his ruling and Wyatt left. “Wyatt’s headed for the town hall. I’ll go talk to him. You can cable New York, but who will speak
with the mayor?”

  “I will,” said Holly, who stood in the front doorway.

  “But doesn’t class start soon?”

  “I can think of no better way to teach children about local government than to introduce them to the mayor and the judge.” Holly grinned. “A little visual support at the hearing won’t hurt our cause, either.”

  Charlotte’s hope doubled. “It will work. It has to work.”

  * * *

  No one was at the town hall. Wyatt frowned at the locked door. No notice. No explanation.

  Where was the judge? He looked up and down the street. Business as usual. Wagons kicked up dust. Horses waited at hitching posts. Women strolled toward the butcher or the general store, basket in hand.

  Seeing as he didn’t know where to find Mayor Evans, Wyatt headed to the one man who would know what was going on—the sheriff.

  Sheriff Mason Wright’s office was only half a block away, but the mass of wagons, horses and commerce slowed Wyatt’s progress. Most of the women and some of the men he passed stopped to offer congratulations. Wyatt nodded without replying. It kept conversations to a minimum.

  By the time he reached Sheriff Wright’s office, Wyatt had endured more claps on the back and tittering ladies than a man should have to face in a lifetime.

  He bounded inside and found Mason sitting behind his desk with the feisty redheaded Liam at his side. The lad looked up when Wyatt entered, bristling with defiance. Wyatt had been just as cocky and sure of himself once, before life bit him in the backside.

  “Reed.” The sheriff nodded his acknowledgment of Wyatt before turning his attention back to the boy. “Best head on up to school now. Wouldn’t want to be late on your first day as the sheriff’s son.” The man shot an equally defiant glance Wyatt’s way.

  “And after the judge says so, I’ll be Interim Assistant Junior Sheriff Liam Wright,” the boy pointed out.

  So Charlotte was right. The sheriff and his new bride were also planning to adopt an orphan today.

  The sheriff grinned and tousled the boy’s hair before sending him off. Liam gave Wyatt another scowl before heading out the door.