Millie Marries a Marshal

by Linda K. Hubalek

  Adam thought they’d be glad that the woman had finally arrived, and been told of Sam’s demise so she could get on with her life.

  Instead, the women asked him umpteen questions that he never thought to ask Miss Donovan. Where did she come from and what was she going to do now? Why didn’t they know she had been married before and had a son? Why didn’t he take them to the café to eat a meal before checking them into the hotel? And there was room in the hotel, right, even with all the cattlemen coming into the area with the cattle drives?

  That last questions did make him a little uneasy because he wasn’t positive she got a room. The whole family had read the letters that Millie Donovan had written to Sam, so the women felt invested in the drama. Apparently they were wishing they could have met the lady themselves, because they asked—in detail—what Millie looked like.

  “So which picture was she, Adam?” Hilda, Rania’s outspoken twin was asking about the four photographs they had all studied, but he never looked at the photographs again after hearing Miss Donovan say “Mr. Larson.”

  “Don’t know, Hilda. I didn’t stop and compare each one next to her face.” Adam picked up a chicken leg from his plate and attacked it to fill his mouth with something to chew on besides his blasted conscience.

  Adam thought of Millie’s red hair, a few tight curls hanging loose from her tight bun. Her green Basque shirtwaist and black skirt weren’t very clean, but after traveling on a dirty train with that crying boy—it’s a wonder she didn’t look worse. He did feel sorry for her having to handle the child alone, though. Maybe the boy was sick. He was so thin and he cried the whole time Adam saw him, well, except when he spied his marshal’s star. Then the kid had a screaming meltdown.

  Where did she come from? He had no idea if she had been on the train for a day or a week. What kind of marshal was he? It was his job to know what was going on in town and that young woman and child had just fogged up his brain. Why?

  Ethan Paulson, Sarah’s fiancé, leaned forward and added to the conversation, “I’m sure the Simpson Hotel is full, because we’ve had constant visitors asking when our new hotel will be open. As soon as we have the open house and wedding, it will be full to capacity.”

  Adam glanced over at Sarah, who had stopped glaring at him to look down at her plate. The Paulson family was near to completion with their new hotel, and planned for Ethan and Sarah to manage it, while living there. Their wedding was to be the hotel’s open house event. Ethan was a good man, handsome with his slicked back blonde hair, but more than a decade older than Sarah. The spark of wedding excitement wasn’t in Sarah’s eyes like they were in Rania’s. Adam hated for Sarah to settle for a loveless marriage, but his mother insisted that it was her call and the brothers were to stay out of it.

  “Is there somewhere else she can stay?” Rania inquired. “I suppose the boarding houses are full too.”

  “I heard the two houses in town are full with permanent boarders at the moment,” answered Ethan, since he had the inside track on the lodging in town.

  His mother finally sat back down. “Please check to be sure they are in the hotel tonight, Adam. You owe that to Sam, and you be sure they get on the train tomorrow too. Will she travel back to her sister’s?”

  “Ah. I don’t think so. Her sister died while she was there.” Adam cringed and squeezed his eyes shut, because he knew his mother was going to really be steamed when he revealed that tidbit.

  ”Adam Moses Wilerson…”

  Adam had already decided he would confirm with the hotel manager that Miss Donovan was settled into a room when he got back tonight. He always made rounds about ten o’clock to check the businesses, streets and alleys, so it wouldn’t be any extra work to be sure they were all right.

  “I’ll be sure she’s all right, Ma. I assume she’ll go back on the east train…to somewhere…tomorrow, so it will be 12:15 p.m.”

  The four women glanced at each other, each signaling the other with a raised eyebrow. Adam guessed one—or all of them—would be in town checking on Sam’s mail-order bride before it was time to partake of forenoon coffee.

  ***

  Lucas Boyle stood in the open doorway of his livery stable with his arms crossed and his legs in a wide stance when Adam rode Cannon, his silver dapple dun horse, into the low light shining from a kerosene lamp hanging just inside the door.

  “Who put the burr under your saddle, Boyle?” Adam questioned the man as he swung out of Cannon’s saddle.

  “I just caught that little red-headed lady and her screaming tot in the hayloft again. That’s the second time I sent them on their way. I feel sorry for them, but the kid’s so noisy it’s scaring the horses in the stalls below them. Don’t know where she ended up after they left the livery, but I hope she found somewhere to get that little kid off the streets.”

  “I met them by the depot earlier today. She was supposed to be Sam Larson’s mail-order bride,” Adam sighed.

  “Well, why didn’t you take care of them? You’re the marshal,” Boyle asked accusingly.

  Adam looked down, digging the heel of his boot in the dirt and grinding it back and forth, just like his back teeth were doing at the same time. “She said she’d take care of herself, and I delivered her to the door of the hotel before I left for Jacob’s ranch this afternoon.”

  “You know that place was full, Marshal. Clancy said he caught her rummaging through the trash in the alley behind his café, too. Probably looking for food besides shelter.”

  Adam tilted his head back and sighed. Lord, help me if my mother finds out that fact. “Which way did they go? I’ll go look for them after I take care of Cannon.”

  “I’ll take care of your horse tonight, you see after that mother and her baby.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Adam muttered. Now he had another concerned parent stewing after the two wandering strangers.

  Adam hunted up and down Main Street, the alleys behind all the businesses and every other place he could think of—before finding them—no, hearing them—in an abandoned chicken house. He had just given up, walked in the back door to his own little house behind the jailhouse, and then heard whimpering—from the tiny shack in his own backyard.

  He went into the kitchen, to light a lantern before venturing into the dark backyard. After a second thought, he pulled his revolver before opening up the chicken house door and swinging the lantern into the doorway. A second later he peeked around the corner, not wanting his chest blown to bits in case he was wrong and it was a thief, or drunk with a gun.

  Miss Donovan was crouched in the corner, shielding the boy with her body, with one hand up to keep the bright lantern light from shining in her eyes.

  “Miss Donovan, would you please come out of my chicken house?”

  “Marshal Wilerson?”

  “Yes. Please come out.”

  “No. Tate needs some shelter tonight and this seems to be it in town,” she wearily answered Adam.

  “You can spend the night in the jail. It’s unoccupied at the moment.” Holding the lantern high to shine the way, Adam saw Miss Donovan struggle with the boy and two bags again. “I’ll get the bags. You carry the boy to the jail.”

  Adam watched Miss Donovan stand stiffly before hitching the whimpering boy higher up on her hip. The kid was swaddled in a ladies’ dress and the woman didn’t have on a coat. Adam realized that Miss Donovan wasn’t in much better shape than the boy when he took a good look at her hollow cheeks and the dark rings beneath her eyes. Adam felt bad, realizing the spring night had turned chilly and the pair didn’t have proper outer garments.

  “Did you eat supper tonight?” Silence met his question. “Miss Donovan?”

  She sighed and Adam had to lean close to her to hear say, “No, sir.”

  “Don’t you have any money?”

  “No, I used up my funds getting here.”

  “I’m sorry to have added to your trouble by not helping you this afternoon. Let’s get into the jail where you can both lay down. I
t’s late, but the saloon’s kitchen should have sandwich fixings and maybe some milk for the boy, so I’ll fetch something for you to eat.”

  ***

  Adam walked back into his house an hour later after getting the Donovans settled in the jail cell bunk. Because it was time for his late evening rounds, he did that on his way to the saloon. The barkeeper waved him to the back where he found supplies to make a couple of bread and butter sandwiches. There wasn’t any milk left from the evening so he’d be sure to bring some to the boy in the morning. The two ate the sandwiches, drank some water and promptly fell asleep as he watched over them.

  He felt badly after seeing the mother and son devour those simple sandwiches. When was their last meal?

  What was he going to do with them tomorrow? Adam’s mind kept pulling up the image of the little lady and her tot, causing him to stay awake for a long while.

  Chapter 3

  “I’m already in jail? Millie froze, looking at the cell bars just a few feet from the smelly cot where she lay. But the door wasn’t shut on the cell. And movement against her chest caused her to jerk with relief. Tate was still under the blanket that covered her shoulders, snuggled up against her, using her body heat. Millie realized not all the smell was coming from the cot’s covering. The poor child must be past exhausted because he’d be raising a fit about his dirty diaper if he felt up to it.

  Millie closed her eyes, trying to determine what her options were. There are always options, Lassie, even if it’s down to fight or flight. How many times had she heard her father say that over the years? It was his mantra to keep pushing her and her sister, Darcie, through all the adversity and tragedy they had to face.

  Her parents Ennis and Morna Donavon, along with her brothers Flynn and Galen, chose to flee Ireland during the Great Potato Famine, finally settling in the Irish area called Conley’s Patch in Chicago. After losing two infant sons at birth, Morna gave birth to her sister Darcie, and then Millie.

  Ennis fought for jobs—literally with boxing matches—to take care of his family, finally obtaining the role of a policeman. It was a dangerous job, but the six of them had food and shelter, and life was better than what they left in Ireland—so her parents said. Then the Civil War hit when Millie was ten years old. By the time it was over, her brothers had died in eastern battles and their mother from consumption.

  There are always options…until the Great Chicago fire burned their home leaving the three of them homeless. Her father disappeared into the job of helping others, Darcie married Curtis Robbins, and Millie moved into a room above the bakery where she found a job.

  Millie’s middle growled, deepening the hunger pangs that had been gnawing in her stomach since leaving her sister’s home in St. Louis four days ago. Neither of them had a good full meal since then, only finding leftovers half-wrapped in trash cans along the way. So her option today was to fight—to find food, shelter and a job—while hiding from the law.

  And here I sit in jail…

  ***

  “Nonsense Adam, she can stay at your home for a few days until Millie decides what to do. You can bunk in the jail.”

  “Ma, my house isn’t…uh…clean…”

  Millie listened with hope as the marshal’s mother told her six-foot son what his solution to Millie’s predicament should be. And although he tried to give excuses, Millie was impressed that the man respected his mother and her decisive statement. Millie carefully sat up on the edge of the cot, not wanting to waken Tate. She looked out to see the marshal and two women standing by his desk. The trim woman with matching brown hair to her son’s must have been young when she married, because she looked like she could be an older sister to Adam instead of his mother. The younger woman, about her own age, must be a daughter, and the marshal’s sister, although she had darker hair.

  Marshal Wilerson had brought them a heaping plate of biscuits and gravy, and a pint bottle of milk from the café the first thing this morning. It was the perfect soft meal for Tate to eat and fill her starving stomach too. After cleaning up the two of them the best she could in the basin of water the marshal had brought in to her, she laid Tate back on the cot, and apparently fell back to sleep herself until the conversation in the other room awakened her.

  “Mother,” the younger woman touched her mother’s arm and nodded toward Millie. “She’s awake now.”

  Millie rose and rubbed her hands down her skirt as she acknowledged the women coming toward the cell. Here came possible help, so Millie stepped out the door and extended her hand with, “Hello, nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilerson.”

  “Millie, please call me Cate, and this is my daughter, Sarah.” Cate grasped Millie’s hand and pulled her into a full embrace. “We were so sorry to hear of your sister’s death, and then to find out about Sam too.” Cate glanced around Millie to chance a look at the little boy still asleep in the pile of blankets. “Looks like your son’s content for a bit, so let’s go into the office to talk.”

  What? Her sister was dead? Millie’s mind searched for conversations she had with the marshal, trying to figure out how he got that idea. Or could it really be true? Had he gotten a wire from St. Louis this morning? No. Only Darcie knew where Millie was, so the marshal had assumed wrong. Maybe it would help her, and Darcie’s plan, for others to believe that until they could move on. Sam dying had ruined their plans.

  The marshal pulled his chair around next to the one in front of the desk and motioned for the women to use them. The marshal and Sarah stood back while Cate sat down in one wooden chair and pulled Millie down in the other.

  “Adam said you don’t plan to travel back home, so what do you want to do now?”

  “Well, I have no choice but to find lodging and employment here. I’ll get my bearings and start looking for both after Tate catches up on his sleep. The…events and travel have been very hard on him.”

  “It looks like it’s been hard on you too, dear.” Millie sensed Cate looking her over with concern, taking in her dirty clothing and pale face. “Sam was a great neighbor to us, and he would have made a fine husband and father. The Wilerson family will help you anyway we can.”

  Millie breathed a sigh of relief that she might have found a kind soul in this woman, and her family, seeing Sarah nodding a smile in encouragement.

  “Adam and I were just discussing…” Cate paused and looked at her son, “that you will stay in his house while you get your bearings.” Millie saw the marshal take a deep breath before agreeing with a reluctant nod.

  “Millie, you’ve spent days on the train grieving, plus trying to keep your little boy occupied. You must be exhausted and tired. Then to be given the news that Adam gave you? And I’m sure in a very blunt way.” Cate looked up at her son again. “I think you would have collapsed at the news.” Millie didn’t want to tell Cate that was what had happened right here in her son’s office yesterday.

  Millie looked at Adam, who just put his hands up in the air in surrender to his mother. “Are you sure there isn’t any other place for us to stay? I hate to put the marshal out of his own house.”

  “If you can’t travel back home, you need to find a job, or another husband.” Cate paused and tilted her head as if in thought. “Adam eats all his meals at the café—or the saloon—and has someone wash his clothes too. And his house is always a dusty mess as you’ll soon see.” Now Cate’s smile turned downright mischievous. “I think he’d be ahead to have a live-in housekeeper who could fix meals and in general, take care of him. How would you like the job—at least for a while—in exchange for room and board?”

  ***

  Adam pounded down the boardwalk, making the boards rattle with every measured boot step. He was supposed to be keeping the peace in town instead of picking up a woman’s bags and bringing them to his house. What the heck was his mother up to? He was almost scared to leave the three women alone while he went home to hastily clean the worst off the floor in his bedroom, and living room, and… Oh heck, Adam shuddered with a thought.
Maybe his mother was playing matchmaker for him.

  He knew that his mother had given advice to his brother Jacob about Rania Hamner, one of the daughters of the Swedish immigrants who had bought Sam Larson’s place. Jacob went over to the Hamner place every day at his mother’s insistence, to check on Rania—and her dog and two sheep—while her parents traveled back on their last trail drive from Texas to Ellsworth before permanently settling in Kansas. He wasn’t surprised when Jacob proposed to Rania.

  Then there was his mother’s urging to let Rania’s twin, Hilda, buy his brother Noah’s homestead. Noah had traveled to Illinois to bring back Victoria, his intended bride—but when he arrived, he found she had already married someone else. Noah had yet to come home months later, and a claim jumper almost took over his place before his mother and Jacob decided to sell it to someone they knew. Adam knew his ma was hoping for a second match between the two families—whenever Noah decided to come home.

  His mother had even helped Dagmar Hamner, Rania and Hilda’s brother, adjust to his new home on the Bar E Ranch. It was a good thing, because the owner’s daughter from Boston recently arrived, throwing Dagmar into a panicking tailspin. If his mother hadn’t had to deal with Rania’s kidnapping, and then her and Jacob’s wedding to plan this last week, she would have run to help Dagmar greet Cora Elison as soon as she learned that the young woman had set her dainty foot inside the front door of the house on the Bar E.

  Ma was leaving his sister Sarah alone though. Although everyone liked Ethan and his parents, all of the Wilersons secretly thought Ethan wasn’t the perfect match for Sarah. They acted like brother and sister instead of future bride and groom, but Cate insisted her three sons were not to interfere with their sister’s choice of husband.

  Adam’s parents had a wonderful partnership until his father, Moses, died four years ago of cancer. Adam didn’t think he could ever find a woman to match his parents’ love, so he had decided to stay a confirmed bachelor, especially with his dangerous career. Adam didn’t want his mother interfering with his choice of life, but he had a feeling she was already meddling.