The Courageous Brides Collection

by Johnnie Alexander, Michelle Griep, Eileen Key, Debby Lee, Rose Allen McCauley, Donita Kathleen Paul, Jennifer Uhlarik, Jenness Walker, Renee Yancy

  For what seemed an hour, he tried to keep his mind occupied with anything other than the beautiful woman beside him. At some point, he must have dozed off for Travis was suddenly at the opening of the lean-to shaking them both. Hannah stirred, huddled nearer, and slept on. Finn glanced heavenward to find the sun high in the sky. He squinted at the boy.

  The kid glanced back and pointed. “Riders coming.”

  The sound of distant hoofbeats stole into his consciousness, slowing as they neared.

  “Hellooo,” a familiar voice called. “Finn McCaffrey—you in there?”

  Chapter Nine

  Strawberry, California

  Hannah woke, vaguely aware of a foreign sound in her otherwise silent surroundings. She opened her eyes. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and scents of fresh-baked bread and cooking meat wafted up from downstairs. She stretched and swung her stocking feet over the edge of the bed. Only then did she realize Margie Gouldrie was peeking through the door at her.

  “Didn’t mean to wake you, dear. Go back to sleep.” The gray-haired woman smiled. “I was delivering your clean clothes.” She pointed to a pile of both her and Travis’s folded garments on a nearby chair.

  After all she’d been through, Hannah would have welcomed the mundaneness of ironing, but in the three days since the rescue, Margie hadn’t let her lift a finger. The dear woman had taken charge of her and Travis, insisting both rest.

  “Thank you, but I’ve slept enough. I hope Travis hasn’t been pestering you.” She stood and fluffed her dress into place, slid her feet into her shoes, and bent to fasten them.

  “The scamp’s been fine. He’s visited the horses at the corral, and now he’s playing checkers with Finn.”

  At the mention of the jehu’s name, Hannah’s hands faltered, though she recovered quickly. “He’s awake, then?”

  Between the infection, the fever, the copious amount of whiskey the rescuers poured down his throat before moving him, and the morphine the doctor dosed him with after, Finn hadn’t been conscious in two days. After concentrating so much of her attention on his care, she’d found herself at loose ends knocking around the inn with nothing to do. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to return to San Francisco until she knew he’d turned the corner.

  “He’s awake, hungry, and itching to be outta bed. Thankfully, Travis has kept him distracted this afternoon.”

  “That’s good news.” She stood and smoothed her skirt again.

  Outside, the rumble of an approaching stage split the stillness, and the hostlers’ muffled voices rose over the din. Margie smiled. “I best get downstairs. They’ve got a half hour to feed the passengers before they head to Placerville.” She turned down the hall, and the staircase creaked. “By the way,” she called, “Finn’s been asking after you. Since you’re not gonna sleep, you’d make him a happy man if you went by for a visit.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the idea, and Hannah castigated herself. To squelch the anticipation, she forced herself to unbraid and brush her hair then take her time pinning it up. Finally, she meandered down the long hall, finding Finn’s door open.

  His gaze met hers as she stepped into view. Travis, seated cross-legged beside Finn on the big bed, turned when Finn’s attention shifted. The boy waved then twisted back to the checkerboard and moved a piece.

  “Howdy, Hannah.” Finn smiled. His features were etched with pain, eyes rimmed with dark circles, but he was upright, reclining against a pile of pillows. The bandage about his bare midriff accentuated his slim waist and broad shoulders.

  Goodness, when had the hall grown so warm? She dipped her chin, averting her eyes, and resisted the urge to tug at her neckline. “How are you feeling?”

  “Some better.”

  At Travis’s urging, Finn considered the board and moved a checker. In turn, the boy made multiple jumps, ending the game.

  Finn grunted and rolled his eyes, sending Travis into gales of laughter. “Lost count how many games this kid’s won.”

  Her chest swelled. “He’s got a sharp mind. I’m anxious to get him to the school so he can start learning in earnest.”

  His expression clouded. “When will you go?”

  “I’m not sure. Soon.” She resisted telling him she’d waited for him to improve. When Travis motioned to the reset checkerboard, Finn shook his head. “Not right now.”

  Without complaint, Travis moved to the far corner of the bed and balanced the board on his lap, playing against himself.

  Finn pointed to the chair next to the bed. “Would you sit awhile so we can talk?”

  Concern threading through her, she took the offered seat. “Is everything all right?”

  Intense blue eyes met hers before he turned to stare at his lap. “Need to tell you some things. They ain’t easy to talk about.” Seconds ticked by before he began. “In the mountains, you asked who I was trying to save.”

  She shook her head. “Finn, you don’t have to expla—”

  He held up a hand. “I need to say this.”

  Hannah pursed her lips and nodded.

  “I didn’t have the best start in life. My ma was real kind, a lot like you with the tender way you cared for me, your patience with Travis.”

  Her stomach fluttered, though she chided herself for so easily falling for his charms.

  “Pa was a different sort—mean on his best days, vile and abusive when he was drunk, which was most of the time. When I was eight, he got angry, lit into Ma over a mistake I made. I tried to protect her, but he knocked me across the room then went after her again.”

  His eyes slid shut, and he clenched his teeth, his voice a mere whisper. “He put his hands around her throat. Killed her right in front of me.”

  “Oh, Finn.” Tears welling, she clasped his hand as memories of that moment in the mountains returned. “I’m so sorry.”

  When he opened his eyes, they were distant. “I ran away after that. Spent some time on my own. Did all right until winter. Then I about starved to death.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Hannah swallowed, trying to bury her threatening tears. “What happened?”

  Finn glanced at her. “Snuck into a house, tried to steal food and warm clothes.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “The man that lived there caught me in the act. Coulda turned me over to the law. He took me in instead, raised me like his own.”

  “God provided for you.” She squeezed his fingers.

  “Eventually.” Finn looked at her. “I overheard some of your discussions about Travis the day we left. He hasn’t had it easy, either.”

  Hannah glanced Travis’s way, liking that he’d entertained himself while they talked. “No. His mother is deceased, and his father is neglectful.”

  “Me and him got more in common than either of us would care to admit.”

  Throat knotting, she nodded.

  “So what’ll happen to him now?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll take him back to San Francisco, and he’ll be enrolled in the school.”

  “What about a home, a family? Will he live with you, or—”

  “Many students reside at the school. Travis can stay in the attic room at my aunt’s boardinghouse until he gets comfortable with the changes he’s facing.”

  Finn shook his head. “He needs more than that, Hannah. He needs a real home, not some institution. Travis needs a family—a ma and a pa.”

  Her brows knitted in confusion. Of course, he needed a family, but God hadn’t allowed that, and there was little she could do to remedy the circumstance. While Travis’s father had signed the boy into her care, it was temporary. She had no expectation that she, a spinster, would get to keep and raise the young man.

  He twined his fingers between hers. “I’m real fond of you, Hannah. I was hoping I could come calling soon. I’d like to court you, think about marriage, giving Travis a real home.”

  Blood draining from her face so quickly she felt almost dizzy, Hannah pulled free of his grasp and stood. Courting…and
marriage? She’d promised herself no man would get near enough to speak of such things again. Especially this man. Not when another young woman carried his child.

  “I don’t think that would be wise, Mr. McCaffrey.”

  Confusion etched his face. “Mr. McCaff—”

  She turned toward the door, stopping to drag Travis from the bed. Checkerboard and checkers scattered in all directions.

  “Hannah, wait,” he called as she pulled Travis through the door and down the hall. “Please talk to me!”

  Travis tried to jerk free, but she tightened her grasp. She hurried into her room and shut the door, bracing her back against it. Gulping air like a fish out of water, she fought back tears.

  “Lord, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Travis watched her, wide-eyed. Only after her breathing slowed did she beckon him nearer. He hesitantly moved toward her.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” She signed the words with trembling hands, though she had little hope he’d understand.

  The boy shook his head. “What’s wrong? You angry?”

  “No.” Hannah shook her head and tried to smile.

  “Sick?”

  Heartsick, maybe. Again, she shook her head. “No.”

  She paced to the window. The stage stood ready for departure. How much of the thirty minutes was left until they pulled out? Perhaps half—enough time, if she hurried.

  Hannah grabbed her bag from the corner and threw the clothes Margie had delivered into it. Motioning for Travis to stay, she hurried to his room and collected his few belongings. Shoving them into the bag, she hurried back to him.

  “It’s time for us to go.” She signed the words, took his hand, and started toward the door.

  Travis resisted. “Go? We’re leaving?”

  She nodded. Slipping her arm about his shoulders, she led him into the hall. At the staircase, Travis glanced back toward Finn’s room, though he didn’t resist Hannah’s direction. She led him downstairs and turned toward the front door.

  A crowd of about six people had gathered in the small lobby, though the group went outside when someone announced the stage would be loading momentarily. She approached the counter where Margie stood.

  The older woman looked up, eyes widening as her gaze fell on Hannah’s bag. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “Is there room on today’s stage?”

  Margie hesitated then nodded. “There’s room, but are you sure you’re ready?”

  “It’s time. Travis needs to be in school, and I’m eager to see my aunt and uncle. They won’t stop fretting until they see I’m all right.”

  Appearing almost rattled, Margie nodded. “Of course. The stage will be loading shortly.”

  As Hannah thanked her for her kindness and hugged her farewell, the front door burst open. They all turned to see the brown-haired young woman from the Virginia City station. The young woman’s eyes strayed to Margie.

  “I’m Samantha Foster. I’m looking for Finn McCaffrey.”

  Margie’s focus shifted, and Hannah led Travis outside, her stomach knotting uncomfortably.

  Yes, indeed. Time to move on.

  Finn stared into the hallway, chest tightening. Blast his stupid leg. If he were able to get up, he’d chase Hannah down and hold her until that panicked look left her eyes. Let her know he didn’t expect anything other than to get to know her under better circumstances. Then, iffen things worked like he hoped, they could consider marrying and adopting Travis.

  “Lord, I really mucked this up, and I’m helpless to fix it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. How was he to chase Hannah down when he couldn’t even dress himself? According to the doctor, he’d be hobbling on crutches for weeks to come, useless for work or much else. Finn glared at the ceiling. “You know I hate this, right?”

  He plucked a checker from the quilt and flung it vehemently toward the door. It hit the door frame and ricocheted across the floor.

  Quick footsteps clicked down the hall, and hope sprouted in his chest. Perhaps she’d returned. He pinned his gaze on the doorway, and soon a womanly form stepped into view. Only it wasn’t Hannah.

  Sam.

  She attempted a smile, but it crumpled, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Without waiting for an invitation, she bolted into the room and fell into his arms.

  Finn held her, murmuring comforting words as she clung to him, her hot tears wetting his shoulder. When she finally collected herself, she sat back.

  “I saw the crash on my way here. Did you have to pick the most treacherous spot on the trail?”

  He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “Well, you did, you big galoot. Now what’s wrong? The telegram I got said you’re hurt.”

  “Nothing that won’t mend. Leg’s busted. Laid my side open pretty good.”

  She glanced at the bandage then shook her head. “If you weren’t already such a mess, I’d make a mess of you, Finn McCaffrey.”

  He grinned but sobered quickly. “Sam, where’s Ezra? You didn’t bring him all this way, did you?” Lord, please tell me she didn’t. The man was too old and brittle to handle such a trip.

  She also turned serious but made no response.

  “Did you?”

  She wiped away another tear. “He collapsed again. He’s taken a bad turn. Doc doesn’t think he’ll last more than a couple weeks.”

  His jaw went slack. “Then what’re you doing here? You should be with him. Did you leave him home alone?”

  “He’s with Doc while I came to bring you home. He’s asking for you.” Sam slid back into his arms and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “How soon can you travel?”

  The thought of going anywhere in his present state set his teeth on edge. He’d had enough jostling and pain to last a few lifetimes. Yet Ezra was asking.

  He’d known the time was coming ever since the man had collapsed two years ago. Once the immediate crisis was done, Finn had taken the job with the stage company so he wouldn’t be around as much to watch Ezra’s decline. Yet, right then, there was nothing he wanted more than to be with the man who’d become his father nearly thirty years ago.

  “I don’t know about traveling. My leg’s still paining me pretty fierce. Margie would know when the doctor’s supposed to look in on me.”

  Sam sat up. “I can fetch her.”

  “Yeah. Ask her to come up here. Oh, iffen you see a pretty redheaded gal a little older than you, that’s Hannah. Ask her to come up, too. Got a few things to discuss with her, as well.” He shot a prayer heavenward that Sam or Margie could convince Hannah to return.

  Sam’s brows arched. “I’m not sure if she’s the same one, but a red-haired woman and a boy—looked to be about ten—were preparing to leave when I came in.”

  His gut clenched. “Preparing to leave?”

  Chapter Ten

  San Francisco Late January 1863

  Her cloak over her arm, Hannah checked the rooms lining the main hall of the school. All were neat and tidy, ready for the next day’s activities. She stepped back into the hall in time to see several darting forms burst past the front windows. A smile curved Hannah’s lips as she hurried to watch the children running and chasing one another after a long day of study. A muffled giggle punctuated the happy scene.

  Across the yard, Travis trotted after eleven-year-old Millie Gordon. Lord, help us all. That boy is hopelessly smitten. He could do far worse. Millie was a sweet girl, and she seemed as taken with Travis as he was with her. Hannah had been expecting the infatuation to wane, but after three months, it hadn’t happened.

  Pulling on her cloak, Hannah stepped onto the stoop and watched the children play. After a moment, Millie approached Mr. Crandall, the teacher. Her brow creased with worry, she signed furiously, pointing toward the gate. Hannah caught enough of the statement to understand the girl was speaking about Travis, who’d disappeared.

  At her approach, Millie repeated herself.

/>   Travis jumped the fence to talk to a strange man.

  The crisp breeze carried the excited sound of Travis’s voice, though she couldn’t distinguish the words.

  “Thank you. I’ll get him.” She signed the words, both for Millie’s benefit and Mr. Crandall’s, who was deaf himself. Heart pounding, she hurried toward the gate.

  Who on earth was he talking to? Travis had come out of his shell among the students and school staff. He was comfortable talking with the boardinghouse residents if she translated for him. Yet he wasn’t overly confident with strangers. This was someone familiar to him. She raced through the gate, an unfamiliar man’s back coming into view as she neared.

  A chill slid down her spine. Could it be his father, come to reclaim him—or some more distant relative she knew nothing about? Seeing how Travis had thrived at the school, she’d fight to keep him.

  “Pardon me, sir. Can I help you?”

  Leaning on a gnarled wooden cane, the man turned and pushed his hat back. The late-afternoon sun glinted on piercing blue eyes. “Howdy, Hannah.”

  Her breath caught, and warmth flooded through her at Finn McCaffrey’s rich voice. Her heart kicked into a thunderous gallop.

  Travis bolted toward her, chattering so fast she couldn’t keep up. She silenced him with a sign. At his crestfallen expression, she pulled him to her side and smiled at him. Only then did she look again at Finn, warning herself not to let him see the effect he’d had on her.

  “Mr. McCaffrey.” She smiled politely. “What a surprise. You’re looking well.”

  “So are you. Real pretty, in fact.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. She could only hope he wouldn’t notice her blush. “I didn’t expect to see you again. What brings you to San Francisco?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Gave up my job with the stage company and moved out this way about a month ago.”

  “You gave up your job?”

  Finn nodded. “Some things changed. I needed to change with ’em.”

  Her gaze strayed to the cane. “Your leg. Shouldn’t it have healed by now?”

  “It’s healed. Still pains me when I’m on it too much.” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I bought a livery stable a few blocks from here. Been trying to work up the gumption to come see you. We never got to finish our conversation.”