He left the house and headed to the stable, his stride eating up the distance in no time. Just as he was riding away from the farm, David Peters rode in his direction, waving his hat in the air. “Mr. Ryan. I have a message for you from my ma.”
3
Adelaide stared at the tea cup in front of her. She’d only taken a few sips and now it sat cold on the table. She checked the clock on the wall in the hotel dining room. Nine-thirty. The stagecoach would arrive in a half hour and she would be gone.
She wondered what Beavers’ Dam was like. Was it a place where she would be happy? Would her sum of money be enough to buy a small house, or start a business? She supposed she’d left Miles in a quandary. The poor man wouldn’t be able to find another wife unless she divorced him.
Miles.
How she loved him. Loved so many things about him. He was a wonderful man, loving father and caring husband. He tried to make her happy, even insisting she eat and sleep when all she wanted to do was hold Beth Ann close and make sure death didn’t grab her. He teased her, joked with her, and when he took her to his bed . . . well, that’s when she’d realized the battle had been lost and she loved him.
What’s stronger? Your love or your fear?
She sat up straight and stiffened her shoulders. Since when did Adelaide Elizabeth Smith Markham Ryan become a weakling? Why was she letting her fear control her life? She had a wonderful husband, two beautiful daughters, and a lovely home.
Pulling the ticket out of her pocket, she stared at it, wondering what to do. Her eyes flew to the door of the dining room when it swept open, and a man stood there. It was hard to see his face because the sun was at his back. He moved stealthily forward, heading directly toward her.
The walk was familiar, the broad shoulders, the long legs.
Miles.
Her heart jumped and she licked her dry lips. He’d come for her. Or maybe he’d come to tell her good riddance. All of a sudden she was very nervous, not sure if she should run or stay put.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ryan.” His deep voice rolled over her as he pulled out the chair across from her, turned it around and sat, resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair. “Having breakfast?”
She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
His lips quirked. “Don’t like your new stove?” There it was again. That smile that always set her heart to thumping.
Adelaide shrugged. Why did he have to be so handsome, and why did her stomach do a country reel when he looked at her? And drat that lock of hair that perpetually fell on his forehead. His eyes twinkled, but at the same time she noticed a bit of apprehension there.
Now she felt utterly foolish and hoped to God he hadn’t come to see her on the stagecoach and out of his life forever. She cleared her throat. “The stove is fine.”
“Um hm.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Felt the urgent need to eat at the hotel?”
Desperately, she tried to control her chin, but it wouldn’t stop quivering. Her eyes filled up and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. A sob broke through, but she managed to quell the torrent of tears threatening to humiliate her. She fumbled with the stagecoach ticket in her hand.
Miles reached over and took it out of her hand. He glanced down and said, “Beaver’s Dam?”
“Yes.”
“You know someone in Beaver’s Dam that you’re hankering to visit?”
Again she nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Honey, you do know there is no such place as Beaver’s Dam? That Mrs. Peters made up the name when she suspected you had no sister to visit?”
Oh, dear God. The woman must have had a good laugh when Adelaide had said Beaver’s Dam was where her sister lived. Humiliation flooded her and the tears she tried so hard to hold back slid down her face, dropping like raindrops onto her dress. She hung her head in shame.
Miles climbed from the chair and circled the table, pulling Adelaide into his arms. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get a room where we can have some privacy.”
The small room Miles rented was on the second floor of the building, facing the street. He rested his hand on her lower back as they made their way up the stairs and into the room. Once the door was closed, he moved to the bed and drew her onto his lap. “Please tell me you’ve changed you mind.”
She curled her body against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m so afraid.”
He placed his knuckle under her chin and lifted her head. “I’m afraid, too. Beth Ann is my daughter. The thought of losing her terrifies me. Or losing Lizzie.” He kissed her lightly on her lips. “Or you.” He held her face in both hands a looked her in the eye. “Yes, I’m very much afraid of losing you, but that doesn’t stop me from loving you.”
He loves me.
“I love you, too.” The whispered words felt right. She cleared her throat. “But I’m still afraid.”
“Can we be afraid together?” He brushed back the hair from her face. “Do you know what Mrs. Peters told me when I stopped to ask her where you’d gone? She said if I gave you lots of babies you wouldn’t have time to fret and fuss over one or the other.”
Adelaide laughed through her tears. “More babies? I terrified of losing one of the two we already have.”
“Life is full of risks, honey. If we try to avoid them, we would never leave our homes. If fear wins, we lose.”
She wiped the tears from her face. “My, you’ve become quite the philosopher.”
“No. I’m merely a man trying desperately to get my wife to come home with me.” He gave her that crooked smile that she so loved. “What do you say, Mrs. Ryan? Shall we hold hands and take a leap of faith?”
Following a full afternoon of lovemaking in the hotel room, Miles and Adelaide walked hand-in-hand to the stable to retrieve their horses. Miles had never felt so good in his life. He got his wife back, his daughter was recovering, and he was about to make a major change in his life. Something he’d wanted for a long time.
They took their time riding home, almost as if they didn’t want to break the spell they were under. As they rode up to the main house, Lizzie ran up to them. Beth Ann sat on the porch. “Where were you all day?”
Miles swung his leg over Devil and dropped to the ground. Moving to Adelaide’s side, he lifted her from her horse. “You have to eat more, Mrs. Ryan, you’re getting too thin.”
Beth Ann had joined them. “You were gone a long time.”
He tapped her on her pert little nose. “Yes, I know. I had important things to take care of.” He winked at Adelaide. “But now I want us all to go inside. I want to talk to my parents, and this concerns all of you.”
They trooped inside, and found his parents in the parlor. Ma had her sewing basket on her lap and Pa flipped through the newspaper. “Well, there you are. I thought you said you wouldn’t be long.” Ma put the basket down.
Miles waved to his family. “Sit down.” He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled to the fireplace where he turned and faced them all. “I hate farming.”
His mother made to speak, and he held up his hand. “No. You’re going to listen.” He took a deep breath. “I loved being a sheriff, and was sorry to leave that job, but the dream I tucked away my entire life, has been to own and operate a horse farm.
“I was saving money from my sheriff’s job to buy an operation I had my eye on. But when Eve died I used quite a bit of that money to move here.” He turned to his mother. “Because I was told you desperately needed help for the farm and couldn’t afford to hire hands.”
Ma shifted in her seat. “I thought it was the only way.”
“What I have to say to all of you is this. Tomorrow I’m headed back into town to hire enough hands to make it easy on Pa.”
His mother tilted her chin up, a touch of sorrow in her eyes. “You’re leaving, then?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m going to be looking for a few horses to start a horse farm. I can buy the back forty acres from you, if y
ou’re willing to take payments. It will be slow going in the beginning since I have to chase wild horses and break them in, too. Then there’s the cost of corrals, barns, feed, things like that.”
Adelaide stood and pulled an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Ma. “Here. This might cover the cost of the land, or a down payment if not.”
“No, Adelaide, that money goes back into the bank. I’ve talked to Sheriff Blaine in town a he says he needs a deputy once in a while to cover for him. I’ll be doing that for extra money.”
She rounded on him, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. “No. If we’re going to be a family, then we all must work together. I have no use for that money. But I want you to have your dream.”
He rested his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Adelaide—“
Leaving forward, her hands on her hips, she said, “Miles.”
At this point they were nose-to-nose when Lizzie jumped up. “Don’t fight! Take Ma’s money, Pa. I agree with her, you should have your dream.”
“Yeah, your dream, Pa.” Beth Ann chimed in.
Miles shook his head and grinned, pulling Adelaide to his side. “It appears I’m outnumbered.”
“Yay!” Both girls jumped up and down, then hugged their parents.
Miles looked over Adelaide’s head at his mother. “Well? Will you sell me the back forty?”
They all turned to look at her. His ma stared at the four of them. “As my son said, it appears I’m outnumbered.”
Pa sat on the edge of Ma’s chair and put his arm around her shoulders. “Good decision.”
Epilogue
Five years later The Rockin’ Ryan Ranch
“Twins! Are you kidding me?” Miles stared at the midwife in horror. Two more girls? That made six girls. Lizzie, Beth Ann, Madeline, Margaret, and now two more girls to find nams for. When Mrs. Peters told him years ago that a lot of babies would keep Adelaide from worrying too much about one or the other she must have placed a curse on him.
“Oh, stop fussing. Girls are fun.” Ma bustled into the room, a stack of diapers over her arm. She moved to the bed where Adelaide lay with a small pink bundle in each arm.
“Look at it this way, dear. We can keep using the girls’ clothes for the new babies.” Adelaide placed a kiss on one of the babies’ heads.
Miles moved around the bed and skillfully took one baby from her arms. He held the little girl up to his face. “What do you say? What name do you like?”
“I like Dorothy Louise and Caroline Esther.” Adelaide said.
He placed the baby in the crook of his arm. “You’ve been thinking about this, darlin’”.
“Well, given our record it only seemed practical to have several girl’s names ready.”
He sat alongside her and eased down the soft pink blanket from the baby she held. “Which is which?”
Adelaide kissed the baby she held. “This is Dorothy Louise.” She ran her finger over the downy red fuzz on the baby’s head that he held. “And this is Caroline Esther.”
His four older daughters came charging into the room. “I heard we have two more sisters.” Thirteen year old Lizzie climbed up on the bed. “I was really hoping for a brother this time.”
“Just be thankful they are healthy, that’s all that matters.” Adelaide said, a bit of sharpness in her voice.
He guessed she would never completely get over losing Mary and almost losing Beth Ann. But most days she was cheerful, happy and very, very busy.
Every day he was grateful for the wagon train master who made him race into town to find a bride. He couldn’t imagine how his life would be if he hadn’t walked into the sheriff’s office that day and said, “I’ll take her.”
He pulled her into his arms, being careful not to squish the two babies between them. “I love you, wife. And thank you for these two new little girls.”
“And I love you, too, husband. And thank you, also, for our new daughters.” She looked around at the crowded room. “And to my wonderful girls. I love you all so much.”
Then she burst into tears and the girls all rolled their eyes.
About the Author
Callie Hutton, USA Today bestselling author of The Elusive Wife, writes both Western Historical and Regency romance with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). She also pens an occasional contemporary or two.
Callie lives in Oklahoma with several rescue dogs, two adult children, a daughter-in-law, twin grandsons and her top cheerleader husband (although thankfully not all in the same home!). Living in the Midwest provides plenty of opportunities for Callie do pursue her interests: researching American history, meeting readers, spending time with family and discovering new adventures.
Callie loves to hear from readers and welcomes the opportunity to become friends, both in person or virtually.
@CallieHutton
Callie Hutton
Long Way Home
By
Caroline Clemmons
Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Clemmons
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Witherspoon, Georgia Early March 1864
Parmelia Bailey crept closer to the Union army’s makeshift corral. She shivered, but not from the cold air. At best, a prison cell awaited her if she were caught. What would soldiers do to a woman of twenty caught stealing back her own horses? Suddenly, she stopped.
Good heavens, was that Darrick McDonald in a Yankee uniform? When had he shown up? Four years had passed since he’d left Georgia, but there was no mistaking the man she’d once loved.
Memory’s pain almost felled her, and tears welled. She’d waited for him, dreamed of his return. The love she’d thought they shared still haunted her. He’d returned to Witherspoon and hadn’t even contacted her. Had he forgotten her so easily?
Across the way, he talked to half a dozen soldiers near a campfire. All seven men walked away, but there had been no mistaking Darrick McDonald as one of them. How could the man she’d loved turn traitor? Looked as if he’d joined the low down, cheating Yankees who had taken her horses and held the town captive. Worse, although she couldn’t calculate his rank, he was an officer.
Her ten-year-old brother, Rob, duck-walked to a nearby holly bush. “How much longer we have to be here?” he whispered. “I been tired of this for a long time. I’m freezing my ass—”
“Robert Gibson Bailey,” she whispered back fiercely, and her breath clouded in frost.
“Um, I’m freezing my arms off. I can hardly move.”
“Won’t be long now. Not another word.” Bad enough they had to steal their own horses, but Rob’s complaining and her reaction risked giving away their location.
Her nerves couldn’t be more frazzled if a gun were pointed at her head. She tried not to think of the consequences of her daring. What would happen to Rob if they were caught? Surely even Yankees didn’t jail young boys.
A sentry walked within ten feet of her, and she shrank back from view. Her loss of focus had almost caused her capture. And after she’d been freezing here for two hours, timing the patrols.
The guard glanced around. “What’s got you critters stirred up? You done been fed all you’re going to get, so quiet down.” Warily, he peered around again then moved on.
In the shadows of an ancient oak tree, she stood hidden from his view. Parmelia thanked her luck she’d worn men’s clothing so no skirt billowed to catch the sentry’s attention. She had ten minutes before he came by again.
Across the corral, her mares’ ears were up. She waited a minute then made kissy noises to get their attention. When they’d been hers—before those cheating, thieving Yankees had confiscated them—she’d used that sound to cajole her pets. They knew it meant treats.
“Get ready, Rob.” She moved toward the horses.
He raced forward and climbed onto the corral’s rails. He straddled the top bar, ready to mount a horse.
Two of her mares, Lady and Beauty, pushed their way through the herd toward Parmelia and Rob. Guinevere, Star, and Venus crowded behind Beauty and Lady. How she loved these horses. She’d raised all five from foals. Seeing them in army possession sliced open her heart. Innocent horses died in battles, too. What if one of hers fell from a cannon ball? What if a bayonet slashed one’s neck?
She gave them each a shriveled apple from her family’s decreasing supply. Running her hand over velvet noses aroused happy memories. Briefly, she rested her face against Lady’s head. But she had no time to indulge in sentiment or reverie now. She raised the bar holding the gate closed.
Rob swung onto Lady’s back. He grabbed her mane to guide her and used his boots to nudge the mare forward.
Parmelia opened the gate barely wide enough for Lady to pass. Beauty followed. Parmelia’s other horses pushed forward, but Parmelia forced the gate closed.
Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry, babies, but Lady and Beauty are the strongest.”
She lifted the heavy board used to bar the gate, then dropped it. The sound seemed to reverberate forever. Good Lord, how could she have been so clumsy?
Star whinnied her distress and pushed against the wooden bars. Keeping the gate closed took all Parmelia’s strength. With her hip and leg firmly pressing against the rough wood, she slid the bar into place.
Rob threaded his way through the shadows.
Parmelia grabbed Beauty’s mane and led her into the night. Behind her, her other horses whinnied, obviously upset at being left behind.
From the darkness, a voice called, “Calm down, you critters. What’s got you spooked?”
Wild Western Women Spring Into Love: A Western Historical Romance Box Set Page 18