by Kay Stuart
Courting Faith
Kay Stuart
Other Books by Kay Stuart
Captivated Heart
Under Western Stars
A Mistaken Bride
Outlaw’s Daughter
Courting Series
Courting Grace
Courting Wisdom
Courting Hope
Copyright ©2013 Kay Stuart
All Rights Reserved
ISBN-10: 1494705087
ISBN-13: 978-1494705084
Chapter One
Royce Hargadon walked into the Territorial Marshal’s office and removed his hat before taking the chair in front of the cluttered desk. “You sent for me Sir,” he asked crossing one ankle over his other knee. Royce hung his hat off his knee. With his other hand he rubbed his brown hair removing the band where his hat had flattened his hair against his scalp.
Marshal Tinsley pushed back his chair and studied the young man for a long moment. “You knew Dean,” Tinsley asked. His tone was blunt.
Royce arched one brown eyebrow before answering. He had worked long enough under Marshal Tinsley to know his superior had something on his mind. “Yes Sir. We worked together a couple of times. I was sorry to hear about his death,” Royce replied. “Is that why you sent for me?”
Tinsley slid a McGuffey’s Reader across his desk towards Royce. “Think you can handle about a dozen rowdy youngsters,” Tinsley asked soberly.
“Sir,” Royce replied sitting up straighter in his chair. Picking up the Reader Royce handled the text book as if he expected it to bite him.
“Junction City is expecting a new schoolteacher,” Tinsley explained his blue eyes amused by Hargadon’s reaction to the Reader. Most men viewed children with a sense of uncertainty and thanked God they were a mother’s responsibility. “They have built a new addition on to the school. The new teacher is to arrive before the next term begins. You’re going to be that teacher.”
“Me Sir,” doubt sounded in Royce Hargadon’s voice. “It’s been a long time since I sat in a classroom.” The Territorial Marshal looked younger than his twenty nine years. At times he felt more like a hundred. Hard riding over back trails and sleepless nights had a way of aging a man before his time.
“I have confidence in your ability to fit in just about anywhere,” Tinsley explained. Hargadon was one of his best Marshals. He was educated better than most men in the Territory. The reason Marshal Tinsley had selected him.
“But teaching school,” Royce said shaking his head in the negative. His green eyes calmly revealed his doubts on the subject. “I don’t know beans about children,” Royce declared vehemently. “I didn’t have siblings. It was just me and pa.”
Tinsley understood Royce’s reluctance. Any man with an ounce of commonsense left rearing children to women that included teaching school. “You’ve faced half dozen outlaws without a qualm. Don’t let facing a bunch of youngsters defeat you.” Tinsley paused long enough to watch resolve settle on Royce’s face. “You have ten days to brush up on your schooling then I expect you to catch the stage for Junction City,” Tinsley said. He passed two more textbooks across his desk. “Dean’s body was found outside of Junction City. By a Reverend Gaines on land the man owns.”
“He a suspect,” Royce asked settling comfortably in his chair once more. This line of thinking was more to his liking. He could handle crooks and desperadoes. They were his bread and butter.
“Everyone is a suspect,” Tinsley said his gravelly voice harsh. “No one will know who you really are. Not even the local sheriff. Sheriff . . .” the older man paused and looked through papers lying on top of his desk. “Sheriff Walden,” Tinsley said thumping the top page. “He was the only man that knew Dean was working on a case. Of course that does not mean Walden is involved in Dean’s death. But it does throw suspicion his way. This time no one is to be the wiser. A stranger showing up will attract attention. I’m hoping no one will question the arrival of the new schoolteacher.”
“Yes Sir,” Royce replied. He still doubted anyone would believe he was a schoolteacher. In his mind they were middle aged spinsters with sharp tongues and sourpuss faces. A lumpy woman no man would approach for a moonlight walk. “What was Dean’s assignment,” Royce inquired.
“The Barlow Gang. It has long been suspected that Barlow lives in the open.” Royce let out a low whistle. “Dean was working on the assumption the man lives in or around Junction City. Barlow is probably using an assumed name and could be anyone. What little we know about him will not help much. He is medium height, medium built, blue eyes and brown hair. That description fits half of Junction City,” Tinsley said in frustration.
“Even Reverend Gaines,” Royce asked.
Tinsley smiled for the first time. “I shouldn’t think so. Gaines is a vague sort of man. Married with five daughters and is as poor as the proverbial church mouse. He owns a thorn and rock infested piece of ground north of Junction City. Dean tried to get cozy with the oldest daughter but she would have nothing to do with him.”
“Do you know why,” Royce asked.
“She is down on men,” Tinsley replied soberly.
“No,” Royce interjected. “I was wondering why Dean was cozying up to Miss Gaines. How does she fit into the Barlow case?”
Tinsley scratched his head glad for new insight into a puzzling case. “Nothing was in Dean’s reports. I want you to go over them before you leave today. You might find something I’ve missed.”
“Yes Sir,” Royce answered.
“Now we will go over what I do know,” Tinsley said. He hitched up his chair and picked up the top sheet of paper off his desk.
* * * * *
The stage rocked to a halt in front of the gray weathered station and shifted as the driver climbed down to open the door. “Junction City,” he said with disinterest in his voice.
Royce waited until two men exited the stage before he stood and bending low stepped through the stagecoach door. The black town suit he wore made him look like an undertaker. He felt naked without his gun holster strapped to his hip and his tin badge pinned to his shirtfront. Royce did not enjoy undercover work. Feeling a Marshal should declare who he was. With trepidation he viewed the town of Junction City. A dusty road ran through the center of town with gray weathered buildings bordering both sides. The usual crowd of Friday shoppers were strolling the boardwalks in front of businesses. He noted only one saloon on the far end of town. An eye catching gaily painted two stories structure with a wide balcony off the front. Of course there could be more located on back streets and off alleyways. It was Royce’s experience men of Barlow’s caliber frequented such establishments. As a schoolteacher this side of Junction City was off limits.
“Mr. Hargadon,” a woman’s high pitched nasal voice interrupted Royce’s thoughts.
“Ma’am,” Royce said removing his hat. The woman could only be Miss Ferguson. She fit Royce’s idea of a schoolteacher. In her middle thirties. She was tall for a woman and slightly over weight. Her brown hair was pulled severely into a bun distorting her facial features. A hat with a wide brim and decorated with peacock plumes was perched on top of her head. Her mouth was pinched as if she was sucking on a sour pickle.
“Miss,” Miss Ferguson corrected squaring her shoulders. She held her hands together in front of her. Her look when she took his measure was critical.
“Yes Ma’am,” Royce replied then cleared his throat as heat surged into his face. He was sure Miss Ferguson viewed everyone as inferior. He had met woman like her in the past. Independent and outspoken.
“Well,” Miss Ferguson said tilting her chin into the air and looking down her nose at Royce. “Come along young man,” she said. Turning, Miss Ferguson walked down the boardwalk. Royce noticed everyone ste
pped aside to let the woman pass furthering his first impression. Miss Ferguson was a woman to be reckoned with.
In front of the general store a group of young ladies stood gossiping. “Humph,” Miss Ferguson cleared her throat to indicate she wanted to pass. The young ladies all stopped talking and turned towards the older woman. Then they moved to line up with their backs towards the general store so Miss Ferguson could pass.
“Miss Gaines,” Miss Ferguson addressed the nearest young woman.
“Miss Ferguson,” she replied politely. Color was bright on the young woman’s cheeks. Her hair under a straw bonnet was golden yellow. Her eyes were dark brown and looked hostile before she could camouflage her feelings. The young woman was the prettiest woman Royce had met in years. Dressed in pale lavender and looking like an Angel pictured in his father’s Bible. If this young thing was Faith Gaines, he understood Dean’s interest in getting acquainted. Only a fool would miss the opportunity.
“Mr. Hargadon,” Miss Ferguson said. “I want you to met Miss Elizabeth Gaines,” she indicated the youngest of the four young ladies. “Elizabeth is one of your students.”
Royce’s hands were filled with his gear. His valise was in his left hand, satchel containing books in his right hand and under his left arm was his bedroll. His Henry rifle in a leather scabbard hung off one shoulder. Royce nodded his head towards Miss Elizabeth Gaines and swallowed down his discomfort. The young woman had a cameo complexion. Her hair was pale gold and her brown eyes had tiny flecks of gold around the iris. She wore a brown stiff brimmed bonnet with ecru lace framing her pretty face. Her brown dress fitted her budding figure to perfection. She was another Angel descended to earth.
“Miss Caroline Pillsdale,” Miss Ferguson said and the second young lady smiled shyly at Royce. “She is the Mayor’s daughter.” Beside the two Miss Gaines, Miss Pillsdale looked like a wildflower among roses. Her eyes were pale blue and her brown hair under her blue bonnet was pulled back severely giving her face a flat appearance. If Royce had met the young woman without the presence of the Gaines Angels he would have said she was attractive. Possibly because her breasts were full beneath a fitted bodice and her waist was narrow. The mature Miss Pillsdale could not be one of his students.
The third young lady was another Miss Gaines. Miss Valerie Gaines was not as shining as her two sisters. Her hair was honey gold and her eyes cherry brown. She wore a sloppy brimmed hat decorated with paper flowers. Her dark yellow dress left her looking unearthly. She was another Angel just not as radiant as her sisters.
Miss Ferguson turned back to the first young woman. Her pinched features tightened as her blue eyes took on a different hue. She did not like the young woman Royce was certain. “Miss Imogen Gaines,” Miss Ferguson spoke the name slowly. Her lips curling back in what could only be described as a snarl.
So none of the Miss Gaines he was introduced to was Miss Faith Gaines. Royce wondered if Faith looked more like Imogen and Elizabeth or more subdued like Valerie. It really did not matter all three Gaines sisters were breath taking beautiful.
* * * * *
Having noticed Miss Ferguson talking with her sisters Faith Gaines stopped abruptly inside the general store. So abruptly Mr. Cook bumped into her back. “I beg your pardon,” the man said hastily removing his hat. He nodded his head politely with embarrassment darkening his features. He had been gawking at Faith and had not realized she was stopping.
“Entirely my fault,” Faith replied. Color was high on her cheekbones. Mr. Cook of all men! She had been avoiding him for months. Now of necessity she had to acknowledge his presence.
“Not at all,” Mr. Cook replied politely. As owner of the Feed and Grain, Mr. Cook was considered a pillar in the community. Faith thought him overly friendly. Stepping to one side she let Mr. Cook go ahead of her. She was not in any hurry to meet Miss Ferguson. By the time she left the general store the schoolteacher and her companion had moved on. Taking a deep breath in relief Faith greeted her sisters.
“Do you know who that was,” Caroline Pillsdale asked breathlessly. “The new schoolteacher,” she said before anyone could voice an opinion. “I must say he doesn’t look much like a teacher.” She fluttered her long lashes as a smile curved up the corners of her mouth.
“What are teachers suppose to look like,” Imogen asked irritably. She had not missed Caroline’s interest in the newcomer. Caroline thought every young man was her property. That is unless she chose to ignore him.
“The new schoolteacher,” Faith asked. She should have paid closer attention to the stranger. Turning her head, she looked at the man’s departing back. He was a head taller than Miss Ferguson with broad shoulders and long limbs. He walked with confidence an easy grace to his steps. “I can’t tell much from this angle,” she said. “What does he look like?”
Caroline gushed to reply, “Tall and handsome. Would you believe he has the most gorgeous green eyes! Not a limpet green like most green eyes. They were bright jewels in his suntanned face.” Caroline ended with a deep sigh.
If Caroline wanted the new schoolteacher she would get him. It really did not matter to Faith except she felt sorry for any man in Caroline’s sights. She flirted outrageously until a man showed interest and then she would drop him as if he had the plague. “What is your opinion Valerie,” Faith asked. Of all her sisters Valerie was the most down to earth. Logical when logic was warranted.
“I don’t know,” Valerie replied thoughtfully.
“Oh, don’t be a ninny,” Caroline interrupted. “You were as taken with our new teacher as the rest of us. At least I have the honesty to admit it.”
Valerie gave Caroline a sweet smile. She was never one to argue. “Perhaps,” Valerie replied. “I want a little time to think over my reaction. I’ve never met a male teacher before. And somehow he seems more male than other men,” she ended mysteriously.
“I can’t stand around all day talking,” Faith said still irritated that she had bumped into Mr. Cook. The man was sure to ask her to the Fall Picnic. She would have to think up a plausible excuse. An excuse even a man as dense as Mr. Cook seemed to be would understand.
“Mother wants me to pick up some headache powder,” Valerie said.
“I will go with you,” Elizabeth declared. At fourteen she was interested in potions and tonics. Believing she might want to become a nurse. Of course that was this week. Last week she thought maybe she wanted to become a stage actress. But Reverend Gaines forbade his daughter to even consider acting as a profession.
“I’m going to Dru’s Café for lunch,” Caroline said pettily. None of the Gaines sisters ever ate at the café.
“Alone,” Imogen asked astonished. Hoping her voice did not sound as scandalized as she felt.
“Alone,” Caroline replied with a mischievous smile on her lips. Sure she would hear a sermon from Reverend Gaines on the sin of women being promiscuous. She did not care. A woman should be free to make choices not coddled like some old woman.
“I will go home with you,” Imogen told Faith. “I hope Caroline knows what she is doing,” she said a few minutes later. A worried frown creased her forehead. “Sometimes I think Mr. Pillsdale does not keep close enough eyes on her. She was bragging the other day about going riding with that scalawag John Layfield. I’m sure Mr. Ferguson was with them.”
“Miss Ferguson’s brother,” Faith asked a grim look darkening her face.
“One and the same,” Imogen replied shuddering from head to toe. “You ever see Mr. Ferguson work a day in his life. He visits with saloon women,” she added in a whisper. Young ladies did not talk about such matters. “I fear if Caroline is not careful she will be disgraced.” Everyone knew what that meant!
“Father says we mustn’t judge,” Faith replied. Feeling as Imogen did about Mr. Ferguson. Any woman foolish enough to be seen in his company was asking for trouble.
“We are to know right from wrong,” Imogen promptly replied. “There is nothing right about Mr. Ferguson. He gives me cree
ping flesh.”
“I know what you mean,” Faith answered rubbing one hand over the long sleeve of her shirtwaist. Just talking about the man made her flesh crawl.
Chapter Two
The Secondary School building was freshly built. The timbers still smelling of cedar resin. It stood adjacent to the Elementary School facing the school yard and playground with a side door towards the road. The structure was two stories tall.
Miss Ferguson unlocked the side door and went into the building. The teacher’s desk was at the front of the long narrow room. Twelve student desks were placed in four rows. Each desk was newly made. “Nice,” Miss Ferguson said with satisfaction. “Mr. Henderson had said the desks would be delivered and setup in time for Monday classes.” She gave Royce a pinched frown. “The living quarters are upstairs,” she continued indicating a door behind the teacher’s desk. “Mayor Pillsdale has high hopes for our little school. He believes someday in the future the room above will be used as another classroom. Until such a time it is living quarters.”
Royce placed his satchel on top of the teacher’s desk then deposited his bedroll and rifle alongside. His valise went on the floor.
“Do you want me to show you upstairs,” Miss Ferguson asked. She stood with her hands clasped together in front of her ample frame. Her tone of voice indicating it would be a breach of conduct to be in a man’s living quarters but felt she must ask.
“No need,” Royce replied and wondered why he should feel uncomfortable at the idea of Miss Ferguson in his room. She was hardly the seductress type. Perhaps it was the principal that he objected to. After all, Miss Ferguson was a single woman.
“Will you take supper this evening with my brother and me,” Miss Ferguson asked politely. Once again back in safe territory she looked down her nose at Royce.