Timeless Honor (Timeless Hearts #7)

by Anna Rose Leigh

  Timeless Honor

  Anna Rose Leigh

  Contents

  Introduction

  References…

  Prologue

  1. The First Wagon Out

  2. Anywhere but Here

  3. Tough Decisions

  4. Unplanned Parenthood

  5. A Hard Pill to Swallow

  6. Hello Sunshine

  7. Different Times

  8. Getting Acquainted

  9. So Far, So Good

  10. Improper Behavior

  11. Six weeks Later

  12. A Beautiful Life

  13. Mama’s Home

  14. Revelations

  15. You’re not Alone

  16. What Must Be Done

  17. No Time for Goodbyes

  18. Much to be Thankful For

  Epilogue

  Timeless Bond Excerpt

  Thank You

  Also By Anna Rose Leigh

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Timeless Honor is the seventh book in the Timeless Hearts -Sweet Western Time Travel Series.

  This multi-author series ties into one central concept of two women, in different times, who help people find their true love…even if it isn’t in their own time.

  Each book is a standalone story, however it is suggested that you read the short prequel book, which you can get FREE. Click here for Timeless Hearts Prequel on Amazon

  The books will be released between February - June 2017. You can find them all listed on the Amazon author page - amazon.com/author/timelesshearts

  (Be sure to click “Follow” to be notified of any new releases).

  We hope you enjoy the series that will show you love knows no boundaries…even time itself.

  Sandra E. Sinclair, Peggy L. Henderson, Anna Rose Leigh & Kay P. Dawson - Timeless Hearts Authors

  Follow us on FB!

  References…

  Angelica: Unmarried Woman

  Addle-headed: Not smart

  Barkin’ at a knot: Doing something that’s a waste of time

  Balled-up: Confused

  Coots: Harmless silly person

  Calaboose: Jail

  Firewater: Liquor

  Hot rocks: Biscuits

  Leatherneck: Soldier

  Lushington: Drunk

  Spoony: To have a crush on someone.

  Prologue

  1880 Canton, Kansas

  Emma-Jean’s Birth Town

  Population 3300

  * * *

  Emma-Jean sat on a nearby stoop with her sack of belongings close by. Her elbows rested on her legs and she’d propped her hands under her chin. She glanced up at the once brightly lit sky as the sun settled, barely peeking from behind the far-off mountains, revealing a warm arrangement of gold, bronze, and orange streaks. The view was intense, yet calming. At that moment, it was the only beautiful thing about her life, and she wasn’t about to miss it.

  She’d once had so much to look forward to. But now there was nothing and no one, except for a dream. It could have been the most horrible thing in the world but it wasn’t because that dream would soon become a reality.

  There was no time for self-pity. And, though, she didn’t have support and contrary to what others thought, she wasn’t just some untaught spinster, or as her father would have said, some addle-headed angelica. She may not have been married but she definitely had her wits.

  Plus, Ma and Pa had taught her ethics and respect. Besides, she could read and write well. If she used what knowledge and skills she had, she could get far and maybe even exceed her own expectations. But being a twenty-three-year-old female, with no family and few friends, she’d have to be ready for the challenging journey ahead.

  “You lookin’ like you done lost someone.”

  Even before she looked up, she could smell the booze.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” Though she didn’t know him well, other than the few times she’d seen him around town ogling over her, Emma-Jean had heard enough to know she didn’t want his company. She wasn’t up for dealing with the likes of his kind on any day—a staggering lushington or not.

  “Yes. You are, Miss Aldridge.” Henry Clayton stood before her grinning animatedly, showing off his one silver tooth that stood out brightly, among the golden-yellow ones. He tugged at the waist of his pants, rocking back and forth on his heels.

  Emma-Jean sighed heavily, wishing she could just magically disappear. It was rumored he’d been married several times before he’d come to Kansas. She thought if that was the case, three wives ago, he should have become aware of his less than desirable nature. He was no good for any lady with her head on straight, even one better suited age wise. At least that’s what the rumor was and she didn’t care if it was true. She held no interest in him or any other man. Even if she’d wanted to marry; staying in her small hometown didn’t give her many options. Old coots like him were all that were available to women seeking a family.

  “You know what, Miss Aldridge? I’m gonna do you a favor. And…you can thank me for it later.”

  Emma-Jean raised a brow and her stomach fluttered, as anxiousness and worry washed over her. She didn’t know what Henry had up his sleeve but somehow, she knew it wouldn’t bring her joy.

  Henry sat his hat down one seat over from where she was sitting and stumbled to the ground. Emma-Jean pushed herself upright. Taken aback by his behavior, she considered whether to give him a hand.

  “Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he said, crawling to his knees and clasping his hands together as if he was about to pray.

  He looked up at Emma-Jean who stared down curiously. “Will ya…I mean…I’d like to make ya my woman. Will ya marry me?”

  Lost for words, her mouth flew open. She glanced around at the crowd gathering from the unsightly scene, wishing she could be anywhere else. She fought back the tears threatening to spill, knowing crying would only draw more attention and possibly lead others to believe the gesture was welcome.

  “Mr. Clayton, would you be so kind as to rise up,” she asked in a desperate whisper between clenched teeth, leaning closer to him.

  “I’m trying to make an honest woman out of ya, yet you don’t seem to appreciate my efforts much. Now, what ya say I go fetch the preacher? We can say our nuptials today and get better acquainted tonight. What more could you ask for?”

  Even full of whiskey, he should have known better. Mr. Clayton was almost three times her age. Besides, nothing about him suited her. Nonetheless, he stood there in front the whole downtown proposing. After the day of her parent’s wagon accident, this could very well be the next worse day of her life.

  “What you doing, Henry? Is he bothering you, Emma-Jean?” the sheriff asked, darting looks between them.

  She couldn’t help it, she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

  “Sheriff, na looka at whatcha then done. You then made my blushing bride to be cry.”

  Emma-Jean’s sobs turned to pouring tears. She couldn’t have been any more humiliated. Having been spoony on Sheriff Duncan since she was a teenage girl, he was the last person she wanted to see her in this predicament. She was being proposed to by someone who could have been her pa’s, pa. Although she knew nothing would ever come of her attraction to the sheriff since he was married and at least fifteen years her senior; she was still embarrassed.

  “Come on now, honey.” Henry reached for her arm and Emma-Jean pulled back from his grip.

  “Walk away, Henry. I don’t think she’s interested in being one of your soon-to-be ex-wives,” the sheriff said, placing a hand on his hip.

  “I ain’t too particular about your tone, Sheriff. Anyway, don’t
you know to mind your elders? Sounds to me like you want her for yourself but ain’t you gotta wife?”

  Henry stumbled to his feet and tugged at the waist of his pants, pulling them almost to his chest before fidgeting with his suspenders.

  Emma-Jean winced at the sight, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “If you don’t walk away now, I’m placing you inside the calaboose until you sober up.”

  “All right, all right.” Henry threw his hands in the air. “I’m leaving now. But girl, ya just missed out on something good,” he said, pointing a shaky finger.

  Emma-Jean wanted to leap to her feet and take off running. This town was starting to be way too much to deal with. First, losing both her parents seven years ago. Then the city taking her parents’ land while she’d been held up in the poorhouse, claiming her father had owed on it. And now, on her twenty-third birthday, she was heading out into the world with only a locket given to her by her mother, and the ten-dollars-and-fifty cents she’d managed to save from her earnings. She had to do something or else she wouldn’t be able to provide for herself.

  If only Miss Freeman would have paid her more for her services, she’d be in a better situation. Sure, she’d let her stay there in exchange for help with the children, along with cooking, cleaning, and running errands in town. But Emma-Jean had used most of her wages to purchase goodies and trinkets for the little ones. Miss Freeman had told her she should be thankful because orphans were usually kicked out on their eighteenth birthday. But she’d allowed her to stay longer and earn a small wage if she helped with the other children, particularly the handicapped ones, since they required more attention. With her there, it had meant less work for Miss Freeman.

  Apparently, paying Emma-Jean had become too much of a burden, and a free bed would make room for another child. With the start of the orphan train movement, this meant more money to Christian families who were willing to take in children brought over from New York.

  Gracie, who was one of them, had become like a younger sister to her. Since they’d suffered the same fate, parentless Emma-Jean wouldn’t allow her to face the world by her lonesome. She was more than capable of taking care of herself but to everyone else, Gracie would be looked down upon as a misfortunate case since she was deaf. Emma-Jean had no doubt Miss Freeman would overwork Gracie with her being gone. But it wouldn’t be for long.

  Emma-Jean had promised to keep in touch, and once settled, she’d send for her. Hopefully, she’d be able to spare her from embarrassments such as the one she’d just experienced. The plan was for Emma-Jean to travel to Heartsbridge, Texas and reach out to Gracie’s uncle. Though it had been years since Gracie had seen her father’s brother, Emma-Jean was sure once he was told Gracie was in the state’s custody, he’d send for her. Despite his distant relationship with her father, they were still family, and Gracie remembered him as a kind man. While in Heartsbridge, Emma-Jean could investigate the rumor she’d heard of work being available for schoolmarms.

  Thankfully, the sheriff had come to her rescue. He stood holding out a handkerchief. “Now, now, Emma-Jean, don’t let him get you down. If he messes with you again, just let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

  She reached for the hankie and patted under both eyes. Why couldn’t she catch the attention of a man more like the sheriff? Perhaps then, she could fulfill her lifelong dream with a man beside her. That was, if he’d be open-minded and consider her as more than “just a woman,” so to speak. After all, a woman’s place was at home with the children. At least that’s what the people of Canton, Kansas thought.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome. But may I ask, what are you doing here? A girl with half your looks would attract the wrong attention. I’m not trying to be improper with you or anything, but you need to know these things. Fellas have eyes, even those filled with firewater. You’d do best not to be out by your lonesome, especially sitting a few doors away from a saloon.”

  “I don’t have any place to go. Miss Freeman insisted I leave, saying I’d already overstayed my welcome. Anyway, I was just watching the sunset; then I was going to find shelter for the night.”

  The sheriff removed his hat and wiped his forehead. He bit down on his bottom lip after mumbling something but all she’d been able to make out were the words greedy and witch.

  “Sorry, Sheriff. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He looked off into the distance and sighed before turning back to her. “Come on over to the jail. Let’s see if we can’t figure this out. The way I see it, you’ll need somewhere to stay longer than a night.”

  Emma-Jean sniffled back the last of her tears. Dropping her gaze, she said, “I’ll be going to Texas soon. I just need to figure some things out which is what I was doing before…well, before him,” she said, tossing a hand in the direction Mr. Clayton had stumbled off into.

  “I see. But you still had better come with me so we can come up with a plan together. And besides, it doesn’t look like you have any other options. That is, unless you want to take Mr. Clayton up on his offer?” The sheriff observed her with amusement, raising a brow.

  There was no way that was happening.

  “Not even if he was the last man in Kansas.”

  The sheriff smirked, reaching for the bag sitting next to her. “I kinda gathered as much.”

  She didn’t have the how’s figured out but she knew somehow—everything would be okay. And it wouldn’t be because she married Henry Clayton or any other man, and given up on her dreams. It would be because she’d managed to make her own way. But for now, it seemed as if she’d be taking up residency inside a local jail cell, at least for the night. Tomorrow, she’d work on getting to Texas. Regardless of her current predicament, the life she’d dreamt of having was well within reach. She just had to have a little faith.

  The First Wagon Out

  5 Miles out of Heartsbridge, Texas

  Current Date, 1880

  Population 1995

  Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest. Why now, she thought as the wagon train neared its destination of Heartsbridge, Texas? Emma-Jean hadn’t been nervous before. Maybe her sudden awareness of being in a strange place and around new people was a sign she’d made a bad decision.

  “Stop it, Emma-Jean,” she whispered to herself before looking up, noticing the missus of the family she’d been traveling with was staring at her. The lady must have sensed her uneasiness.

  “I’m sure you’ll find your place.”

  Emma-Jean nodded and smiled politely.

  As it turned out, Sheriff Duncan had friends who had friends that were willing to help her. Instead of taking up shelter in a cell, she’d been put up in a boardinghouse for a few weeks until the next wagon train came to town. From there, she’d traveled down to Texas. Hopefully, she’d find a means of providing for herself while working toward becoming a schoolmarm.

  The sheriff had recommended her to a family traveling whose nanny could not accompany them due to illness. Once they found out she’d help care for children before, they were willing to accommodate her. Since the mother was with child, Emma-Jean had picked up some of the slack with her three young ones. The ride had been long and exhausting but in the end, it would all be worth it. She’d settle in, get a job, and send for Gracie.

  Teaching children was what she’d always wanted to do but had lost focus when her world had been turned upside down after her parents died. That was when she’d found herself as an orphan and living with Miss Freeman. But she’d gotten too comfortable and put aside her own needs. There had been two choices, either step out on faith, or do like many single women and answer an advertisement for a mail-order bride.

  Maybe someday she’d thought. But first, she’d wanted to do something to make her happy and settling down—being a wife and mother—hadn’t been at the top of her list. Not at the expense of her dream. It was an unpopular and scandalous notion but she knew her own heart.


  Being a schoolmarm meant having children in her life, which was very important to her. However, after experiencing her own loss, she wasn’t sure she wanted her own offspring. What if she chose that direction and suddenly died? Then her children would be left without a mother and in the poorhouse, just as she’d been. The world was too hard, and no child should be motherless.

  Perhaps she was “barkin’ at a knot” as Miss Freeman had put it when advising her to find a husband while she still had her looks. But she would take her chances down here in the south nevertheless. It was better to have a dream and take a chance then to give up before even trying.

  And just as she’d managed to earn her keep before, she’d figure out a way to make it elsewhere. Hopefully, the money she’d make working a temporary position would last her until then. And if all else failed, she would suck-up her pride, do away with her own wants, and respond to one of those mail-order bride solicitations. This meant she needed to act fast if she was still to be considered wife and mother material.

  She exited the wagon and glanced around. Already, she could tell Texas was nothing like Kansas. As she planted one foot on the ground and then the other, she welcomed the change of scenery and the strong, southern accents echoing around her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in a good whiff. Even the air smelled different.

  That’s when she noticed the lady holding the slate with “Aldridge,” written across it. Hesitantly, she walked toward the woman, holding her sack in front of her. Miss Freeman had arranged for Miss Cissie Dunham to meet her upon arrival.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Miss Aldridge. You must be Miss Dunham.”

  “Welcome, Miss Aldridge.” The lady hugged her, then twirled her around. “You are perfect,” she said, her voice elevated while clapping her hands together. “I’m Mrs. Adrian Coolidge.”