Wild Western Women Boxed Set

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “Please.” She carried her valise to explore the upper level. A small room looked to have been for a child. From the window she raised to allow a breeze, she saw a neighbor’s home similar in size to this one. The other room was larger with sturdy furnishings in dark walnut. She stepped around her trunk and opened the windows to allow cross ventilation. A wooded area at the edge of the property offered beauty and peace.

  Mark set the second trunk down. “Guess you saw the school’s behind the house. The place at the east side is owned by Mrs. Gamble and Mrs. Fraser. They’re sisters and will be especially good neighbors. Great cooks.”

  She followed him into the hall, wanting to ask why she hadn’t heard from him, why he’d left without a goodbye but couldn’t form the words. “How are you doing, Mark?”

  “Fine, I guess. Own the wood mill and lumber yard just outside town. Keeps me pretty busy.” His jaw clenched. “Thought you were wed to Everett Franklin.”

  Puzzled, she shook her head. “Everett? Why on earth would you think that?”

  He stared then shrugged and started down the stairs. “Never mind then. Just what I’d heard. Well, if you need anything else, the ladies next door can help you. I’d better head on back to work.”

  She wished she’d had a chance to ask him where he’d heard the silly rumor about Everett, but he tipped his hat and left. What an unexpected turn of events. She brushed back a wisp of hair, too tired to work out the reason behind his odd question.

  With a sigh, she closed the door and went upstairs to begin unpacking. By the time she finished straightening her belongings, she realized she was hungry. A knock sounded and she went downstairs to answer.

  An older woman with brown corkscrew curls ringing her plump, smiling face waited on her porch. “Welcome to town, dear. I’m Lizzie Mae Frazer from next door. My sister and I would like you to come to supper if you’re not too tired. I’m sure you haven’t had time to shop. Oh, but if you don’t want companionship after your tiring trip, we’ll bring a meal over for you.”

  “I’m Gwen Jones and I’d love to join you and your sister. I’ve already heard you’re both great cooks. Just give me time to change out of my travel clothes so I’ll be more presentable.”

  “My dear, you look lovely. Why not come with me now and have time to relax in our kitchen while we pamper and feed you?”

  “You convinced me.” She allowed herself to be guided across the lawn to her neighbor’s kitchen door. Her new town was growing more appealing.

  Mark had been correct. The ladies were fine cooks. They kept her entertained with tidbits about the town and the families she would be meeting soon, especially their nephews Micah, Zach, and Joel Stone and each man’s wife and children.

  Pleading exhaustion, she left the sisters with a promise to visit again and gratefully accepted a basket holding a couple of fresh eggs and a loaf of bread. So far, barring the presence of Mark Hardeman, her new job promised to be everything she’d hoped.

  Early the next morning, Gwen arose with excitement bubbling inside her. After the fascinating evening with her neighbors, she’d slept soundly. Breakfast of scrambled egg, coffee, and toast never tasted so good. She walked to the school carrying her maps, a globe, and several books.

  Someone had cleaned here also. A lovely home, two good neighbors, and a tidy school had to be good omens. She thanked her lucky stars she’d answered the School Board’s ad for a teacher.

  But what about Mark and why he’d settled here?

  She’d tactfully probed for information about him at supper last night. All she’d learned was that he hadn’t married, that his business thrived, and that he was a respected community leader. She supposed that’s why he was on the School Board.

  After arranging her desk and locking the school, she followed directions the sisters had given to the mercantile. Strolling toward town, pleasure in her new home filled her with delight. Flowers filled borders of most homes she passed and their fragrance enticed her.

  A soft breeze lessened the end-of-summer heat. Humming to herself, she twirled her parasol over her shoulder as she walked from a residential area to businesses. People she met smiled and nodded her way before she turned in at the general mercantile.

  The shopkeeper hailed her as she entered. “Hello, you must be the new teacher.”

  “That’s right, I’m Gwen Jones.” The large size of the store and stocked shelves surprised her and brought a smile to her face.

  He gave a mock bow. “George Sturdivant at your service. My wife Harriett and I run the store, but she’s usually only here on Friday and Saturday, our busiest days. Can I help you find something?”

  “I came for provisions. I’m not sure I can carry all I need.”

  “Alvie Bettinger makes deliveries for me. You just let me know what you want and I’ll carry it to the counter for you. Alvie will bring it to your place this afternoon.”

  She handed him her list. “While you fill that, I’ll look around.” She sauntered up and down the aisles, amazed so many items were housed in one place. Unable to resist the temptation, she selected a few notions on the spur of the moment.

  Mr. Sturdivant smiled. “Guess I should have taken longer to fill your requests and given you time to buy more.”

  “Looks as if you have everything I could need.” She nodded at her selection. “And a few things I simply want.”

  The shopkeeper chuckled. “That’s our strategy.” He totaled up her purchases.” Will you want to put these on your account?”

  She handed him cash. “No, I’ll pay for them. But I’d like an account for another time if that’s acceptable.”

  The bell on the door rang and she turned.

  Mark stood inside and looked ill at ease. “Morning, Miss Jones. Morning, George.”

  Miss Jones? They’d been on first name basis for many months before he left Austin. Perhaps he was merely observing custom. “How are you this morning, Mr. Hardeman?”

  “Fine. I’m fine. Um, George, my fly wheels come in yet?”

  “No, should be in today or tomorrow. I’ll let you know, Mark. Say, why don’t you help Miss Jones with her provisions so she won’t have to wait for Alvie to deliver them this afternoon?”

  Seeing Mark’s uncomfortable stance caused her to protest, “That’s all right. I don’t mind waiting.”

  “No need, Miss Jones.” He scooped up her packages and headed toward the exit.

  She rushed to open the door for him. “If you insist.”

  As they walked toward her home, Mark glanced at her. “Surprised you’re still unmarried and that your folks let you leave town.”

  “I’m a grown woman of twenty-three.” She sighed, wishing her parents were more understanding. “If you must know, they protested vehemently. Papa wanted to select a man for me to marry there.”

  He shot a glance her way. “You ever teach school before?”

  “For a year near Austin. I enjoy teaching, but I need to be on my own.”

  He was silent for half a block. “You remember when we went to the church picnic?”

  How could she forget? He’d kissed her. “Of course. I had a wonderful day. I-I thought you might be interested in me, but you left a couple of days later without a word.”

  His face was somber as they turned in at her gate. “Gwen, trust me. I had reasons that I believed were good at the time. Is there anything I can do to help you get settled?”

  “Since you volunteered, would you help me hang my maps at school? If you will, I’ll make a picnic lunch for us to share afterward.” She hurried to open her front door for him.

  A wide grin split his face. “That sounds nice. Would tomorrow about eleven be a good time?”

  “Perfect. Oh, just put those on the kitchen table.”

  He followed her directions and then turned. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After tipping his hat, he was gone. She hummed to herself. Planning what she’d prepare for the picnic, she untied her first package and put awa
y her purchases.

  That afternoon, she had a visitor, a beautiful red-haired woman dressed elegantly. “Come in, won’t you?”

  “I’m Rosalyn Stone and this is Lucy, who’ll be one of your students. I’m sorry my husband couldn’t greet you yesterday, but he’s been involved in a trial all week.”

  “Mr. Hardeman met the stage and delivered my trunks here. Can I offer you tea?”

  “Oh, that would be lovely. Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Gwen filled the kettle and set it on the fire, then banked the embers. While the water heated, she prepared tea leaves in a ball and dropped them into the teapot.

  Gwen added hot water and set the brew and cups on the table. “I have milk and sugar and lemons.”

  Lucy stood at her mother’s side. “I want to swing, Mama.”

  “Milk and sugar for me.” She turned to her daughter. “Stay in this yard. No wandering.”

  When the girl had gone outside, Rosalyn smiled at Gwen. “We lived here for a while when I first came. I’m a seamstress and used the dining room as my sewing room.”

  “Oh, yes, you were here when the fire occurred? Mrs. Fraser and Mrs. Gamble told me about that. Sounded horrible.”

  Rosalyn sipped her tea. “I was terrified for Lucy. Thank heavens that part of our life is over. We live about a block and a half from here. I stopped by to welcome you to Radford Crossing and explain my husband’s absence yesterday.”

  “How nice of you. As I explained, Mr. Hardeman filled in nicely.”

  Gwen and Rosalyn chatted for a few moments before her guest stood.

  “I’ll talk with you more on Sunday. You’ll have a chance to meet people then plus there’s a social after church. I hope you’ll plan to attend.”

  A church social? She wondered if Mark would be there. A pang of sorrow pierced her heart when she remembered the last social she and Mark attended.

  She pulled her attention to her guest. “Certainly. Is there only the one church in town?”

  Rosalyn nodded. “Yes, Community Church is a combination of Methodist, Episcopal, and Presbyterian. There’s a small Catholic chapel at the far end of town, but Father Ignacius is only there once a month.”

  “My family are Presbyterian. I’ll look forward to Sunday.”

  “Good. Do you mind if I slip out the back door to collect Lucy and go next door to visit the aunts?”

  “Oh, of course. Thank you for coming.”

  Gwendolyn practically danced through her house after Rosalyn left. Already this town was shaping up to be ideal. If the students turned out to be as nice as the adults she’d met, she’d found the perfect place to live.

  When Mark called the next day, she handed him the basket containing their food. In her arms, she carried a rolled up map to add to the one she’d taken to school the day before. She’d also included some tacks and a small hammer in a bag dangling from her arm.

  “Lovely day, isn’t it? I hope you’re hungry. I made fried chicken and a pie.”

  His face beamed and his grin displayed his dimples. “One of your peach pies?”

  “Yes, you used to love them.”

  “My mouth is watering at the mention. You’re a wonderful cook. I was surprised since your family always had servants.” His face grew red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She unlocked the school. “Don’t worry, Mark. Mother is helpless in the kitchen but I insisted on learning as many culinary skills as I could from our staff.”

  Inside, she directed him to set the basket on her desk. “I’d like the world map on one side of the blackboard and the United States map on the other.”

  He took the materials she handed him. “This all right?”

  “Higher so the students in back can see where I indicate with my pointer.” She showed him the wand she used in teaching.

  “You don’t hit kids with that, do you?”

  She fisted her hands at her hips. “Of course not. I’m firm but fair, though, and expect students to respect me and others. If not, I punish them by assigning extra work or talking to their parents, sometimes both.”

  He held his hands at his side and his tawny eyes twinkled. “I was only teasing. I knew you’d never hit a child. You were always soft-hearted and kind.”

  She couldn’t prevent a laugh bubbling forth. “Guess I fell into that trap, didn’t I? I was ready to whack you upside the head with my pointer. Are you ready to eat?”

  “Always. In here or outside?” He looked around as if for a likely spot inside.

  “How about under the big tree at the side? The shade should protect us from the sun. I brought a light blanket to sit on.”

  She locked the school behind them while he spread the blanket. When she’d seated herself, she took out two jars of lemonade, chicken, potatoes, boiled eggs, and pie. From home, she’d brought plates and cutlery.

  Mark was silent while he dug into his food. “This is the best meal I’ve had in a while.”

  She smiled, teasing him. “You told me my neighbors were great cooks, so I’m sure they’ve fed you on occasion.”

  “At church socials. They bring the best food, so I always watch them set out their dishes.”

  “Mark, won’t you tell me why you left Austin so suddenly without a word?”

  His face grew ashen. “Better you don’t know.”

  She couldn’t imagine what would be so awful he refused to answer her. “You can’t say something like that and not expect me to question you further? Please explain.”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Your father, that’s why.”

  “Papa? How could he cause you to leave?”

  He sounded frustrated when he exhaled and set down his lemonade. “Gwen, since you won’t leave it alone I’ll tell you. After the church social, I was feeling happier than I’d ever been. I thought we might have a future together.”

  She clasped her hands in her lap. “So did I. Go on.”

  He watched her as he spoke. “Your father came to see me at work the following Monday. Said he wanted to talk to me in private. Took me to lunch.”

  That didn’t sound like Papa. She knew he didn’t approve of Mark because he wasn’t wealthy. In fact, Mark was an orphan who’d had a sad struggle all his life. He’d told her that as a child other children made fun of him because of his raggedy clothes and he sometimes no shoes. Adults had shunned him and sometimes told him to stay away because of his poverty. To her, the fact he was overcoming his lack of funds by hard work made him more admirable. Not to her father.

  Mark’s eyes pleaded with her. “He told me he wanted to save me embarrassment because you’d decided to wed Everett Franklin in a small private ceremony at your parents’ home on Friday.”

  She gasped. “And you believed him? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

  “Gwen, you have to understand, I had no reason to doubt him. You know how hard my life had been, how I struggled to get ahead. Your father even said he liked me and was sorry you’d decided on someone else. H-He gave me a check to start over so I wouldn’t have to see you with Everett around town.”

  “What? You took money to leave me alone? You sold out to Papa?” Anger and pain warred in her. How could either man act so? She started dropping things back into the basket.

  He stretched out his hand and touched her arm. “That’s not how it was. I thought he was doing me a favor by saving me the heartache of seeing you with another man. Fool that I am, I-I even thanked him.”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “When I got back to work, I handed in my notice, collected what was due me, and went home to pack. Early the next morning, I left. Figured this was far enough I wouldn’t run into people I knew. Until you arrived, I was right.”

  She pulled her arm free of his grasp. “And what did you do with this check?”

  Embarrassment stained his face red. “I-I cashed it on the way home that day and used it to build the lumber mill and start the lumber yard. But I saved every penny I could, Gwen, and r
epaid your father every cent. Told him I considered his money a loan. Mine is a good business and I’m good at managing the mill and my lumber yard income.”

  “And what’s that to me?” A frightening thought occurred to her. “Did you tell him where you’d settled? Did you mention Radford Crossing?”

  “I told him the cedar brakes near Stone Mountain. I didn’t mention our town nor the Palo Pinto Mountains.”

  “Thank heavens. But that doesn’t change the fact you deserted me for money.”

  “It wasn’t like that I tell you. I thought you’d deserted me. I never got over loving you, Gwen. You have to believe me.”

  “Mark Hardeman, how can you say you loved me when you just admitted you accepted money to leave me without giving me a chance to tell my side?” Tears running down her face, she jumped up and grabbed the basket. He could have the darned blanket for all she cared. She hurried toward her house.

  He kept pace with her, the blanket trailing from his arm. “Gwen, wait, please. I told you it was best you didn’t know, but you wouldn’t let it rest. This was what I feared would happen. As soon as I mentioned Everett to you, I saw how surprised you were. That’s when I knew I’d been hoodwinked.”

  “You’ve been hoodwinked? What about me? All this time I pined for you, wondering what I’d done wrong to cause you to leave without even saying goodbye. Well, you can bet on this, Mark Hardeman. Hell will freeze over before I waste tears on you again.”

  At her house, she opened her back door, slid inside, closed the door in his face and turned the lock. Slinging the basket of food onto the table, she ran upstairs and threw herself across her bed. Easy enough to say she wouldn’t cry over him, but impossible not to do so.

  And how could her father be so underhanded? Oh, she shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t he tried to get her fired from her last teaching position? The man couldn’t resist controlling the lives of everyone he knew, especially his family.

  She rose and took out paper and a pen to write him a letter then changed her mind. What good would writing him do? If he realized she and Mark were in the same town, there was no telling what he’d resort to next. Wearily, she went downstairs and washed her face. She had food to salvage.