Winter Promise

by Martha Rogers

  Normally he didn’t care for all the hoopla of events like the one today. They reminded him too much of the fun he and Angela had exploring the city of Cleveland. Yet here he stood, watching a young woman so different from Angela and finding himself beginning to care about her more than he could ever admit to anyone, including himself.

  Abigail couldn’t remember when she’d had this much fun. Even the celebrations in Briar Ridge paled in comparison to all the activities and events of this day. After visiting several booths, she strolled over with Elliot to watch the shoot-out. Targets had been set up, and two men at a time competed. The one having the best time and most accurate shots with one round of bullets after several bouts was proclaimed the winner.

  She covered her ears and shuddered when the first two contestants started and the guns went off. Elliot laughed. “I should have warned you. We can go move to the back so you won’t be so close to the noise.”

  Abigail shook her head. “No, I want to be able to see what they do. I was just startled, that’s all.” She’d seen the Muldoon men had all entered, and she wanted to see if one of them was the best shot. Her money would go to Cory if she’d been a woman given to wagering. His being a deputy meant he had to be really good at handling a gun.

  Then the pairings of the contestants went up, and Cory wasn’t among them. Elliot shook his head. “I don’t see Cory’s name anywhere. He’s won without any problem the past few years. I wonder what happened.”

  “My winning is what happened.”

  Abigail turned to see Cory standing behind her and Elliot, and her heart skipped a beat. Heat rose in her cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Sheriff Rutherford and I discussed it, and seems how since a lawman needs to be good shot, it isn’t fair to the other participants for me to keep entering each year. So I dropped out.”

  Elliot laughed. “That’s a good one. A Muldoon giving up a sure thing, but I admire you for it. I see Donnie is still in the running, so a Muldoon may still take the prize.”

  “I don’t know about that. I hear one of the new guys hired on at the Gibson spread is pretty handy with a gun. Might do Donnie some good to be beaten by somebody besides me.”

  Abigail listened to their banter and grinned. How much more fun it was living in Texas than in Connecticut. Real-live cowboys competing in a shoot-out and horse races later on whetted her appetite for more events.

  While the two men talked, she studied the contrast between them. Both were tall, but Cory’s broad shoulders and chest outdid the lanky Doc Elliot. At least Cory had made the doc laugh, a rare occurrence in the time she’d known him.

  Being a Muldoon would carry weight in this town, but he was still a cowboy and a bit rough around the edges. He wasn’t at all as refined and sophisticated as Elliot. Of course that could be because Elliot was so quiet.

  Cory said his good-byes and sauntered over to where the contestants in the shoot-out were gathered. The first round had concluded, and Donnie Muldoon was on the list. Elliot nodded toward the men. “Do you want to stay and see if Donnie wins? They have two more rounds to go. Eight started out, and now they’re down to four. After the next round they’ll have the final two contestants.”

  “It is loud, but I want to see who wins. I hope it is Donnie. He and Sarah can probably use the money with a new baby coming.”

  “Then we’ll stay, but I suggest moving back just a ways. You can still see, but the noise won’t be quite as bad.”

  Once again he covered her hand with his and sent a shiver of delight through her arm. She gazed up at him as they walked. He had asked her to this festival and seemed to be enjoying her company. Could this be the beginning of a new phase in their friendship? She began to hope so.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  OVER A WEEK had passed since the festival, and Elliot had not made any further attempts to escort Abigail anywhere. She glanced across the way to the infirmary and sighed. Against her own better judgment, she’d begun to let Elliot into her heart. It would be best for all concerned if she closed it up again and went on about the business of running the library. However, that was much easier to say than to actually do.

  The bell over the door jangled, and Penelope Dawes shut the door against the wind, which had grown colder. “Brr, I think that norther Allen talked about has blown in.”

  Abigail laughed. “I was beginning to wonder if we ever had cold weather around here. It feels good to me.”

  “I know, rather reminds me of Illinois now. But weather discussion is not why I came in to see you. Philip has finally heard from the young lady he’s been writing to, and she’s coming to Porterfield to meet him.”

  A smile curved the corner of Abigail’s lips. “I’m glad to hear it. I haven’t told anyone except Aunt Mae, but all sorts of rumors have been floating around. Do you know her?”

  “No, but her name is Sophia Langston, and she’s from Cleveland, just like Doc Elliot. He may know her, but I haven’t had the chance to ask him about it.”

  “When is she expected to arrive, and where will she stay?” Philip still lived with Penelope and Allen, so she couldn’t stay there, and the boardinghouse only had vacant rooms on the men’s floor.

  “She’s coming on the afternoon train from Dallas. She had to go there from St. Louis and then come to Porterfield. Aunt Mae and Philip are working out living arrangements right now. He’s planning to move into the boardinghouse, and then Miss Langston will stay with us while they court. Philip’s already made arrangements for a house on the lot next door to where Doc and Mrs. Jensen live.”

  “That makes perfect sense. Philip couldn’t live in the same house with her.” Penelope would take good care of the young woman. If things went well, they may have a Christmas wedding as well as several Christmas babies. “That’s why I came to town. I want to make sure she’s greeted properly.” Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “And that’s where you come in. I’d like for you to be there to meet her too. It’d be nice for her to meet more women at first.”

  Before Abigail could answer, Frank Cahoon stepped into the library. “Howdy, Miss Monroe, Mrs. Dawes. I hear a bride for Philip is arriving this afternoon, and she’s from Ohio. That’s where my Suzanne’s from, and I thought she might know her.”

  Abigail peered up at Frank. At four inches above six feet in height, he towered over her and the equally petite Penelope Dawes. Penelope took two steps back so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck so much to speak to the blacksmith.

  “She’s from Ohio, and I know Suzanne is too, but it’s a big state, so most likely they don’t know each other. I’d still be happy for her to join us at the station to greet Miss Langston.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dawes. I’ll tell Suzanne.” As soon as he exited the doorway, he shoved his hat back on his head and sprinted off in the direction of the house he’d built for his bride.

  “Looks like she’ll get a warm reception. Let me finish up a few things here, and I’ll go with you to the depot.”

  After checking in two books and securing the cash drawer, Abigail grabbed her wrap from its hook and joined Penelope at the door. When she opened it, a blast of cold air greeted her and reminded her of home. Most likely she’d not see any snow this year, but the cooler weather well above freezing suited her just fine. She wrapped the shawl about her shoulders and tied the strings to her hat under her chin to keep the wind from whisking it away.

  Allen and Philip met them in the middle of the street. Philip’s mouth twitched and his hands shook. He jammed them into his trouser pockets. “I hope she’s as nice as you are, Penelope. Her letters sounded real sweet.”

  Penelope grasped Allen’s arm as they walked. “I’m sure she’ll be every bit as nice as you’d expect from her writing.”

  Abigail hid her smile. She’d never seen Philip so nervous. Usually he was the picture of calm while his brother did the fretting and stewing about their business. Philip had always been quiet and reserved when he came into the library, but now
he was nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. She supposed she would be too if she was meeting for the first time the man she hoped to marry.

  The blast from the train approaching the town split the air, and Philip took off into a run. Allen chuckled. “Guess he doesn’t want to be late.”

  Frank and Suzanne already stood on the platform, as did Henry Wilder. Abigail shook her head. That man. Everything was newsworthy to him, and a new mail-order bride would certainly be fodder for an article in the Porterfield Gazette. Editor McBurney was lucky to have such a go-getter to supply news for the biweekly newspaper.

  The train rolled to a stop with steam hissing and spewing from the engine. Abigail covered her ears against the screech of the wheels braking on the rails, and her jaws clenched at the grating of metal against metal.

  Mostly men disembarked, but then a willowy brunette stepped down to the platform in one fluid movement. Although not beautiful by most standards, she had an air about her that spoke of a refined background. What in the world was a woman like her doing in Porterfield, Texas, as a mail-order bride? Perhaps Henry Wilder would have a good story after all.

  Philip stood with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging from his head. He held his hat in his hands with a clutch that crushed the brim to a wrinkled mess. Allen slapped him on the back and extended a hand to Miss Langston. “Welcome to Porterfield, Miss Langston. I’m Allen Dawes, and this poor fellow here is my brother, Philip.”

  Philip’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he managed to squeak out a greeting. “Hello, Miss Langston.”

  She smiled, and sunshine lit her face. Abigail couldn’t take her eyes off the young woman. If Sophia hadn’t already been promised to Philip, every man in town would be vying for her attention simply because of that smile.

  Philip introduced her to those gathered around. She smiled and acknowledged each one, and when she laughed, it was like the sound of tinkling chimes. Abigail sighed. Philip was one lucky fellow.

  When the introductions were complete, Miss Langston gazed at the group. “Please call me Sophia. Since this is going to be my home, I would like to be friends with everyone.”

  Abigail held no doubts that would soon happen. She already liked the young woman from Ohio and hoped to get to know her better in the next few days.

  The couple strolled to the baggage cart where Frank and Allen made quick work of loading Sophia’s things on the wagon Philip had brought for that purpose. After the two climbed up onto the wagon seat, Sophia waved, and Philip headed the wagon toward the Dawes home, where a reception would be held for Sophia to mingle with the people she’d just met.

  Henry Wilder watched the couple as they drove down Main Street. That Philip Dawes was one lucky man. If Henry ever sent off for a mail-order bride, he’d probably end up with one as plain as a slice of white bread. Not that a plain girl would be bad. Even though she wasn’t beautiful, Miss Langston drew people to her like bees to nectar.

  His first order of business would be to question her to see if she had known Elliot Jensen in Cleveland. Of course, in a city that size, they may never have come into contact with each other, but it never hurt to try.

  He waited until the couple arrived at the Daweses’ house before making his way there. Many people would be coming to welcome them, so his presence would not be questioned. Besides, Henry was known to interview all newcomers to Porterfield.

  Frank and Suzanne Cahoon, Abigail Monroe, and Reverend and Mrs. Winston joined Allen and Penelope at the house. Henry made his way across the street and up to the porch. Penelope opened the door and greeted him with a smile.

  “Hello, Mr. Wilder. I suppose you’ve come to meet Miss Langston too. Come on in. She’s in the parlor with Philip and the others.”

  Henry made his way to join the guests. Penelope Dawes had set up a table with coffee and pastries for refreshment in the dining room, but the guests congregated in the parlor. Miss Langston made one pretty picture standing beside Philip, who looked more like a love-struck schoolboy than an adult business man.

  The smattering of conversation around him always interested Henry, and he listened with a reporter’s ear to glean any information he could use from the tidbits. Finally a lull arrived as guests began partaking of the refreshments. Henry made his way to Sophia’s side.

  “Hello, Miss Langston. I’m Henry Wilder from the Porterfield Gazette. Sometime soon I’d like to interview you for an article in our paper. I’ve written about every other newcomer to our town because it helps people get to know you.”

  Her eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “That would be lovely. Just let me know when. I’ll be staying here with Penelope and Allen.”

  “That’s what I understand. I’ll be in touch.” He turned to leave and then addressed her again. “I say, we have a doctor in town who came here from Cleveland. His name is Elliot Jensen. Perhaps you knew him there.”

  Her smile dimmed just a fraction, and her eyes opened wide. Henry noted a tinge of pink in her cheeks. “Cleveland is a large city, Mr. Wilder. I’m not familiar with that name.” She then glanced over his shoulder. “Philip is beckoning. Good day, Mr. Wilder. You may contact me later about an interview.”

  Henry nodded and observed her as she joined Philip then glanced back at him for a brief second before turning away. That shift in her smile and the look in her eyes led him to believe Miss Langston wasn’t being entirely truthful. Another piece of the Jensen puzzle presented itself, and now Henry’s curiosity grew even greater.

  Elliot busied himself with removing instruments from the autoclave and wrapping them in sterile towels for later use, an everyday occurrence around here now that they were expanding and adding beds. The morning had been slow, and his uncle had retired to his office to look over the medical records of some of his patients.

  The only two Elliot had seen today were Erin Winston and Sarah Muldoon. Both ladies were in good health and progressing right along with their pregnancies. He figured Erin had about another five weeks or so before the arrival of her baby, putting her due date at right around Christmas. Of course with first-time deliveries, that date could go either way and be shorter or longer than he predicted.

  Henry Wilder walked through the door. “Good afternoon, Doc Elliot. I see the good citizens of Porterfield don’t need a doctor today.”

  “Yes, it looks that way. What can I do for you?” Elliot continued to wrap instruments. Anytime Henry came by, it usually didn’t bode well for him.

  “Oh, I just came from the Daweses’ place. I met Philip’s mail-order bride, and she’s one nice woman.”

  “He’s might lucky then. Some of those mail-order brides aren’t all they make themselves up to be.” Elliot would never understand why a man would send off for a woman and then seek her hand in marriage before ever laying eyes on her.

  “This one is.”

  Henry didn’t speak for a few minutes, and Elliot’s patience with the man wore thin. “Is there anything else you wish to let me know?”

  “Not really. I’ll let you get back to sorting those instruments.” He turned and sauntered toward the door.

  Elliot reached for another set to wrap just as Henry made a last comment. “Oh, and by the way, she’s from your hometown of Cleveland. Sophia Langston’s her name.”

  The instruments fell to the floor with a clatter. Elliot bent to retrieve them, his breath coming short and fast. He glanced over his shoulder, but Henry Wilder had disappeared. Elliot slumped against the table and struggled to control his breathing. Sophia Langston in Porterfield? It was impossible. Her father would never have allowed it. It had to be a mistake.

  Everything he’d hope to flee from in Cleveland had followed him. His only goal had been to escape the accusations and begin a new life here. Now Sophia threatened to undo all his hopes and plans for a new beginning. He had to get away before everyone knew his secret, that he had as good as killed Angela with his negligence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY
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  SEVERAL DAYS PASSED, followed by the weekend, but Elliot’s indecision froze in his heart. After all his uncle and aunt had done for him, he couldn’t just up and leave without explanation. So he kept his head down and kept working even as he grappled with his dilemma.

  Monday morning when Elliot stepped out onto the boardwalk with one of his patients, a carriage with two women drove past. One was Penelope Dawes. The dark-haired one turned her head in his direction, and Elliot gasped. It was Sophia Langston, just like Henry had said. Their eyes locked for a moment, and although he couldn’t see her eyes, she did recognize him.

  He bid his patient a hasty good-bye and stepped back into the infirmary.

  Elliot gasped for breath and gripped the edge of a chair with white-knuckled hands. He should have left as his first instinct dictated, but now it was too late. Sophia would most likely let everyone know his part in the death of her best friend. He couldn’t hide from her forever, and the only way to deal with the problem was to face her and let her make her accusations and get it all out in the open between them.

  Once again God had proved his cruelty in Elliot’s life. If He was a loving, forgiving God, He would never have sent Sophia to Porterfield. Now he’d have to listen again to all the grief he’d caused Angela’s parents and friends.

  An arm slipped across his shoulders. “I hear that Sophia Langston is in town. You have to talk with her.” His uncle’s voice caused even more turmoil.

  “I know, but it means hearing again how I failed Angela and being accused of causing her death.”

  “You don’t know that. Things may have changed. She may not feel any anger against you at all.”

  “How could she not? She was Angela’s best friend and was helping her plan the wedding. She shunned me at the funeral. It was almost as if she resented my being there.”