The 12 Brides of Summer Novella Collection 1

by Susan Page Davis

  When she stepped into the kitchen, Polly and Harry Clyde were sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies between them. Harry’s glass of milk was half empty, and Polly had a cup of hot tea at her place.

  “My, you’re industrious,” Polly said when she saw the clean laundry. “I poured you some tea. Hope it’s not too cool.”

  “That looks lovely.” Ava set down the basket and took her place at the table. She reached for one of the cookies she and Polly had baked the day before.

  “Those are so good,” Polly said, taking another. “I’m glad you remembered your mother’s recipe.”

  “She always made the best sugar cookies,” Ava agreed.

  “Well, I held some back for you and Joe to have when he calls tomorrow evening, and I expect there will be some pie left from dinner, too.”

  Ava smiled and took a sip of her tea. If only she could be as optimistic as Polly. Instead, she had mentally added, “If he calls tomorrow evening.”

  “What?” Polly asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Now, Ava, are you still fretting about Joe?”

  “I can’t forget what Jacob said about the trains.”

  “That last robbery wasn’t anywhere near here.”

  “I know, but. . .” Ava shook her head.

  Polly frowned. “If you’re going to marry a policeman—”

  “Whoa,” Ava cried. “Who said anything about marrying him?”

  Her friend laughed. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Marriage is the logical conclusion.”

  “But. . .I’m only here for a month.” Ava realized how quickly July was fleeing. “On August third, I’m to board the train back to Massachusetts.”

  “Are you?” Polly asked, as if it were the furthest thing from her mind.

  “Yes, and it’s coming right up.”

  Amelia’s cry sounded from the bedroom. Polly took a quick sip of her tea and set the cup down. “I must get your sister now, Harry Clyde. You can entertain Aunt Ava for a few minutes.”

  Joe followed instructions when he reached the site of the standoff. Simms had picked up tips from a rancher and a freighter along the way as to where the outlaws had headed, with the posse in hot pursuit. When they found the other railroad police outside an old sod house, they dismounted and secured their horses with the rest. The men fanned out to surround the hideout and waited for a signal from their leader.

  Joe’s mouth went dry. He glanced to his left. He could see Farris crouched in the tall grass, and beyond him, Joe caught a glimpse of another railroad man’s hat.

  In the distance, Simms yelled, “You’re surrounded by police. Come on out.”

  In answer, a volley of gunshots came from the soddy. A rapid exchange of fire followed, after which smoke hung in the air and the prairie seemed oddly quiet.

  “You listen to me now,” Simms yelled. “We’ve got you surrounded, and we’re not leaving. In fact, we’ve got more men on the way. If you want to sit it out, by nightfall we’ll have a hundred men here. You’re not getting away. Ever. So, you think about that. Any time you want to come out peacefully, you let us know, and we’ll hold our fire.”

  Joe wasn’t really sure how it happened, but thirty minutes later Simms convinced the men inside to throw down their guns and come out. While the others bound the prisoners and prepared to take them back to Cheyenne, Joe helped Simms search the soddy. Under a couple of the mattresses they found small pouches of money.

  “Well, what do you know?” Simms was poking beneath one of the bunks, and he brought out a small cracker tin.

  “Anything in it?” Joe asked.

  “Let’s see.” Simms lifted the lid. “Ha. Jewelry. Must be stuff they haven’t had a chance to sell yet.” He carried the tin to the doorway so he could examine the contents in the sunlight.

  “May I see?” Joe went to stand beside him. A jumble of rings, brooches, and pendants lay in the tin, along with two pocket watches and a military medal. Joe lifted one of the watches and opened it. “I think this is mine. They stole it off me the day I came to Cheyenne.”

  “Take it,” Simms said.

  “Don’t I have to make a report or something?”

  “Tell Colson when we get back to town, and he can mark it off his list.”

  “All right.” Joe pocketed the watch and picked out a necklace. “Are these garnets?”

  “I’d say so,” Simms replied.

  “Then this could be the necklace my employer wanted me to take to San Francisco. He said garnet and marcasite.”

  “Those things that look like tiny little diamonds are probably the marcasite,” Simms said. “There’s an earring like it.” He pointed.

  Joe plucked the earring from the trove. “Is there another one? He said there were earrings that matched the pendant.”

  “Here, you paw through it.” Simms thrust the tin into his hands. “I’ll make sure everyone’s ready to head out.”

  Joe followed Simms slowly, poking through the glittering jewelry with one finger. He was rewarded by the sight of the second earring turning face upward to wink at him. With a sigh he took it out and wrapped it in his handkerchief with the necklace and second earring. A little more exploration revealed a diamond bracelet. He wasn’t positive about this one, but it might be the other item with which Mr. Becker had entrusted him. He folded it up with the other items and slipped the handkerchief into the inner pocket of his jacket then closed the tin and hurried after Simms.

  Two hours later, when the robbers were locked up and the men were writing their reports, he showed the items to Mr. Colson.

  “So you think that’s what was in the package they took from you last week?”

  “I do, sir,” Joe said. “I’ve checked it against the message the attorney, Mr. Becker, sent me, and they fit the description. With your permission, I could wire him and ask for a few more details.”

  “Go ahead, but if it’s his we’ll send him a bill for the telegrams.”

  Joe nodded. “If this is the right stuff, I don’t think he’ll mind. What will they do with all these other things if no one claims them?”

  Colson shrugged. “We keep recovered loot for a year or so, and then, if we can’t find the owners, we sell it. There’s a bunch in the safe now that’s due to be sold.”

  When Joe returned later with Becker’s assurance that he had found the right jewelry, Mr. Colson opened the safe to get it out for Joe.

  “He wondered if I could go on and deliver it for him,” Joe told his boss. “I wasn’t sure, since I just took this job. I’d come right back, though.”

  “San Francisco?” Mr. Colson said. “I guess so. You’d only be gone a few days, and you could work the trains going and coming.”

  Joe smiled. “That would be great.”

  Colson laughed. “Not every day you get paid by two employers at once, eh, Logan?”

  He picked up another box that had been in the safe. “Here’s the stuff we’ve collected that’s never been claimed. Want to see it?”

  “Sure.”

  When Colson opened the box, Joe caught his breath. One gem twinkled at him as though crying out for him to pick it up. Carefully, he took out the ring and gazed at the lovely blue stone. The round-cut sapphire was encircled by small diamond chips—or maybe more of the marcasite he’d seen on the garnet set, but these looked brighter.

  “Pretty, isn’t?” Colson said.

  “It makes me think of the blue moon,” Joe confessed. He hoped Colson wouldn’t notice the flush heating his cheeks. “How much do you think it will sell for?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I can ask the jeweler down the street. You fancy it?”

  “Well. . .” Joe chuckled. “There is someone I had in mind who might like it.”

  Ava opened the door at the Tierneys’ house to find Joe on the doorstep. She didn’t try to hide her relief or her pleasure at seeing him.

  “You’re back! I hope the other men are safe.”

  “Nobody was hu
rt, and we caught the robber gang.”

  “Wonderful!” She drew him inside and closed the door. “Won’t you come into the kitchen and tell Polly and Jacob? I know they’ll want to hear all about it.”

  “Certainly, but first, there’s something I’d like to say to you, Ava.”

  “Oh?” She turned to face him. Joe was watching her intently, and she felt her cheeks warm under the scrutiny of his clear blue eyes. “What is it?”

  “We found the things that were stolen from me on the trip out here.”

  Ava clutched his hand for a moment then drew back, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. “I’m so glad.”

  “Me, too. I’ll be making a quick trip to San Francisco, to deliver them for Mr. Becker, but I’ll be back in just a few days. And before I go. . .” He hesitated and gazed into her eyes.

  Ava felt her heart quicken.

  “The moon is full tonight,” Joe said. “It’s the blue moon.”

  “So it is. I’d forgotten.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Would you like to step outside and see it? It’s rising over the prairie, and it’s a fine sight.”

  “I. . .all right.” Ava took Polly’s blue knitted shawl from the back of a chair and slipped it around her shoulders. They walked out into the front yard, and Joe pointed. The moon, plump and full, was peeking from behind the edge of a fluffy cloud near the bell tower on the church down the street.

  Ava gazed at it for a long moment and sighed. “You’re right, it’s beautiful.”

  “I suppose it would be prettier if we had a big old maple tree and we could stare at it through the branches.”

  “Do you think you’ll miss the trees?” Ava asked. “That’s what Polly said she missed most when she moved out here.”

  “I probably will. But I’ve been living in town the last few years, so it won’t be as if I’ve come right from the middle of a forest.” Joe chuckled. “It doesn’t look particularly blue, does it?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Ava, I—”

  “Yes?” She turned to face him.

  Joe reached into his pocket and took out something that gleamed in the moonlight. “I had an opportunity to buy this today, and I couldn’t bear to think of it going to anyone but you.”

  He placed it in her hand, and she held it up. A ring. She caught her breath. What could he mean by it?

  “If the light were better, you could see it’s a sapphire. It made me think of the blue moon, which made me think of you. Ava, I know we haven’t known each other long, and—and I’m not very good at this, but I love you, and well. . .out here it seems a little foolish to wait a long time, so I’m asking you now. Will you marry me?”

  Ava realized she was staring at him and lowered her gaze to the ring again.

  “If you’d like time to think about it,” he began after a short pause.

  “No, I don’t need time. I think we shall get along splendidly.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I wouldn’t make you wait for another blue moon, Joe.”

  He leaned down and kissed her lightly then with more purpose.

  Ava leaned against him for a moment. “Perhaps we should go inside and show Polly and Jacob,” she whispered.

  “I’m sure we should. Would you like to put it on first?”

  “Yes.” She let him slide the band over her finger and laughed. “I can’t wait to see it in good light. Come on.”

  Later that evening, when Joe had gone, Ava was too wound up to sleep. She sat down to write a letter to her parents. The moonlight shone through the window, so bright she didn’t even need to light the lamp.

  Dear Pa and Mama,

  I have some news for you, and I hope it makes you happy. On this rare blue moon, an even rarer thing happened to me. You remember Mr. Logan, the man from the train? Well, he wishes to become your son-in-law.

  Ava reread the paragraph and smiled. She spread her hand and gazed at the sapphire ring and then dipped her pen in the inkwell.

  We wondered if you would like to come out here for the wedding. If not, Joe and I will save until we have enough to travel back there. He said the railroad will discount our tickets. I shall write more soon, but I couldn’t wait for you to hear. Your loving daughter,

  Ava

  Susan Page Davis is the author of more than fifty novels in the romance, mystery, suspense, and historical romance genres. A Maine native, she now lives in western Kentucky with her husband, Jim, a retired news editor. They are the parents of six, and the grandparents of nine fantastic kids. She is a past winner of the Carol Award, the Will Rogers Medallion for Western Fiction, and the Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award. Susan was named Favorite Author of the Year in the 18th Annual Heartsong Awards. Visit her website at: www.susanpagedavis.com.

  The Sunbonnet Bride

  by Michelle Ule

  Dedicated to:

  My favorite businessman and my favorite teacher:

  Glenn and Charles Duval

  Along with their families:

  Bettina, Lynda, Bennett, Elizabeth, Anne, Catherine, Christopher, and Christina

  Chapter 1

  Fairhope, Nebraska

  Summer 1874

  Malcolm MacDougall shook the reigns and peered at the sky late Saturday afternoon. The big draft horses were dancing down the familiar road between Sterling and his hometown of Fairhope, but that was highly unusual. After a long day delivering cargo, they usually plodded home slow, steady, and boring. Today, though, they were in a hurry.

  The soggy July heat weighed down on the countryside, and the clouds swirling above looked like fluffy bruises with an odd green tinting the gray. He swallowed a few times, uneasy.

  The big Nebraska sky stretched from horizon to horizon, stopping to peek between rustling healthy cornfields of rich emerald green. Gusts of wind shook the tops, waving gold tassels at him. Malcolm frowned. Shouldn’t birds have been flying through the corn? Shouldn’t he have seen varmints like rabbits and gophers scuttling through the stalks? What had happened to the hum of cicadas?

  All he heard was the relatively quick stepping plop of his horses. Something was up and nature knew, God, too. He whistled for his dog.

  Sport burst from the cornfield ahead, startling the mahogany horses to a halt. He yipped three times and leaped onto the box seat beside Malcolm, jarring the wagon and nearly knocking Malcolm over.

  “Here, there, old boy.” Malcolm scratched Sport’s ears and tried to calm the shaggy mutt who often looked more like a bedraggled sheep than a dog.

  Sport’s scratchy pink tongue slurped Malcolm’s cheek before he sat. He threw back his head and howled—a long drawn out sound that raised the hair on Malcolm’s forearms and set the horses to shuffling.

  “Git on, girls,” Malcolm called. The clouds scudded way too fast and the light kept shifting from dark to clear. He wrinkled his forehead. Unpredictable weather always bothered him.

  Too big to really fear much, Malcolm decided to think on good things rather than those he could not control. Reverend Cummings liked to quote a verse from the Good Book that summed it up well: “Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

  Problem was that one verse summed up Sally Martin, and her unpredictability unnerved him, too.

  Malcolm sighed. The pretty new seamstress in town slipped through life as light as a feather. He could still feel his big hands on her narrow waist as she flew through the air at the last dance. Ewan’s fiddle had sung up a fever into Malcolm’s bones and made his heart soar. When he danced, his feet moved with a grace he never felt in real life, especially when he partnered Sally.

  Wide brown eyes, silky blonde hair, trim little figure, and a wit to match. He knew he was heartsick, but had no idea what to do about it. How did Ewan win hi
s sister Kate’s hand?

  Music.

  Malcolm pursed his lips together and blew a high whistle. Sport sprang to his feet and howled.

  He’d have to try something else. Sport’s tail shook and he quivered. He barked his alert but happy cry. The horses’ ears twitched, and up ahead, coming out of the corn at the end of the field, he saw a kid in patched overalls and his smaller sister. They waved; Malcolm stopped the horses.

  “Wind’s blowing up fierce, Mr. MacDougall. Can you ride us into town? Pa’s sending us to his brother.”

  Malcolm jerked his head at Sport, who jumped into the back of the empty wagon, tongue out, rear end wagging, joyfully inviting the children to climb in. “No problem, Joe.” He reached down to grasp Anna’s hand.

  Her sunbonnet flapped in a gust of wind, and she folded into fear on the seat beside him. “We’ll be there soon,” he said. She trembled.

  Her twelve-year-old brother pushed back his straw hat. “Looking mighty wild. You thinkin’ something might happen?”

  Malcolm mopped the back of his neck with his kerchief. “You always got to think funnel cloud on a day like this, but look up ahead. Blue skies over Fairhope.”

  “Anna don’t like the weather. But she does like your Miss Sally.”

  A warm glow filled Malcolm’s gut, but he had to speak the truth. “She’s not mine.”

  “Then why does she smile after you?” Anna asked in a tiny voice.

  He cleared his throat over a spurt of pride. “She’s friendly; she likes everyone in town.”

  Anna pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “She made this for me.” The girl traced an embroidered blue letter A in the corner. “She’s right good with her needle.”

  “That’s why Mrs. Sinclair hired her.”

  He wondered how long Sally would stay in the small shop on Main Street across from the MacDougall Mercantile. Kate said Sally dreamed of having her own shop. With her skills and cheery disposition, Sally was bound to succeed. She just needed time and capital, but Malcolm couldn’t help her there.