The Deardons Complete Mini-Series

by Kelli Ann Morgan

  Nate laughed.

  “And you’re actually considerin’ that easterner?” He snorted another disbelieving laugh. “You’re not blind, woman, and you have a good head on your shoulders. You’ll make the right choice. Just let me know when I can congratulate Deardon.” He left her leaning against the pillar and ran his hand down the new railing.

  How does he do it?

  He whistled. “That’s some fine workmanship,” he said, rubbing the wood. “Whose is it?” he asked with a grin.

  Kate squinted at him. She knew he was teasing, but she wanted to wipe the smirk right of Nate Boswell’s face. He knew exactly who had mended the railing.

  With another chuckle, he descended the rest of the stairs to join the men at the large, black hearse.

  She glanced up at Noah, who caught her looking at him and smiled warmly, raising his hand in a brief wave, before turning back to his conversation.

  “Glad we are finished with that nasty business.” Mr. Stiles came up to stand right behind her. “Miss Callahan, if I may have a moment of your time.”

  She wasn’t sure how to tell the man that she’d already decided that he was no longer being considered for the position as her husband.

  “Mr. Stiles, I appreciate your travelling all the way out to Laramie, but—”

  “I’ve had quite enough of living out here in such cramped quarters and until we are married and I can join you inside the house, I will be staying the night in town at the Grand Oak Hotel. I wondered if you might join me for some supper this evening at the restaurant there.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

  Kate pulled her hand away slowly, irritated that the man had completely cut her off.

  “Mr. Stiles, as I was saying before, I think it would be best if—”

  “I’ll just accompany the sheriff. If this town is going to be one of my homes, I would like to get acquainted with the people in it.” He said, placing his white boater hat on his head as he turned to go down the stairs.

  He did it again!

  “I am not going to marry you, Mr. Stiles!” she screamed what she’d been thinking almost since the moment he’d arrived.

  Everyone fell silent and turned to look up at her. Once again, heat seared her cheeks and she closed her mouth in an apologetic smile.

  If he’d only let her get a word in edgewise, it would have saved them both the embarrassment.

  “Yes, well…” Mr. Stiles didn’t finish his sentence, just removed his hat with a short bow, and hustled down the rest of the steps and out to the barn, where she suspected his horse had already been saddled and waiting.

  Mr. Dixon also lifted his hat toward her from his perch atop the hearse, then slapped the reins, turned his black wagon around, and headed out through the gate. The others returned to their discussion without a word to her, but Kate didn’t miss the smile that briefly touched Noah’s lips.

  Mr. Stiles emerged from the barn a few moments later in a small, uncovered carriage pulled by a single Appaloosa.

  Of course.

  Kate watched him until he reached the peak of the hill that would take him down into town. A larger, black carriage crossed his path, which Kate recognized immediately as Reverend Jones’s. It wasn’t long before she could make out that it was not the good Reverend in the carriage, but his wife, Cindy, Nate’s wife, Mary, and Ingrid Fulgrum, the doctor’s wife. She could only imagine what the women would think of her allowing perfect strangers to bunk at the ranch along with the hired hands with only Fannie as a chaperone.

  As the ladies pulled in through the wooden archway at the front of the yard, Nate and Dell went to greet them, while Noah and Levi joined her on the porch.

  “Looks like you’ve got company,” Levi stated the obvious.

  Kate was grateful she’d chosen to wear a dress today instead of the work trousers and button down shirt she usually donned on a work day. The last thing she needed was for the three most respected ladies in town to think she was a heathen. While all of the women were near her age, they were already married. Mary and Ingrid both had little girls and the latter was expecting.

  “Kathryn,” Ingrid greeted her as if she were the wise matron of the group, though she was the youngest of all of them.

  “It’s Kate,” she reminded her politely through the smile hiding the grit of her teeth.

  “Oh, yes. Of course. Kate,” Ingrid corrected as she held out a basket covered in red and white checked gingham and leaned down to give her a sort of half hug.

  “Thank you.”

  “What is Mr. Dixon doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “No. There’s been an accident.”

  “Who is it?” Ingrid asked, bringing her white glove-covered fingers up to her mouth.

  “Clifford Thomas,” Kate responded matter-of-factly.

  “Who?” Ingrid asked again.

  “A man from Abilene, here on…business.” How else could she describe his purpose here? She glanced at Cindy who had been the only person she’d confided in when she’d placed the ad.

  “Hi, Kate.” Cindy nodded, waving from the step below as she handed Kate a slender white paper bag around Ingrid. “Are you all right? He wasn’t…” Cindy’s question trailed, but Kate understood.

  Kate shook her head.

  Cindy was the oldest of them at twenty-four and had been the closest thing Kate’d had to a real friend in town. It had only been a few months since the girl had married the preacher and their friendship just hadn’t been the same since. She looked happy, though. That was all that mattered. The reverend had just been offered a job with a small parish in Montana and they would be moving soon. Kate had been saddened to hear the news.

  She lifted the bag and sniffed the delicious scent rising from its contents.

  “Is this what I think it is?” Her tongue touched her lips in anticipation as she opened the top of the petite package. The sweet, buttery aroma that arose from the bag in a wave tickled Kate’s nose with its surprising warmth.

  Cindy was a wonderful cook and had recently discovered the art of candy-making. Several large pieces of warm golden toffee had been wrapped and placed carefully inside the bag.

  “Why, Mrs. Jones,” Kate said excitedly, deliberately using the woman’s married name, “they look simply delightful.”

  Cindy beamed at her, obviously pleased by her appraisal.

  Mary finally joined them, her arms held out with what Kate guessed was a sweet potato pie covered in a blue and green striped cloth. By what Nate had said, Kate thought the woman was going to stop by sometime later in the week or even the next, but Mary had always had a keen intuition for knowing the precise moment to call.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about this Mr. Thomas person,” Mary said with a frown. “I understand he’s been helping out around the ranch.”

  Kate brushed her hand across her skirt, hoping to smooth out the wrinkles. She rested Ingrid’s basket on the porch with Cindy’s toffee on top and took the pie with a gracious smile.

  “If you must know…” She hated to tell them the real reason Mr. Thomas had been there, but they would find out sooner or later and she figured it would come better from her. “He was here in response to an advertisement I placed in the newspaper. For a husband,” she finished her sentence without remorse.

  Cindy smiled sympathetically, but the other two’s eyes opened as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped unbecomingly.

  “You what?” Ingrid was the first to recover. “But, why? You’re so…so…”

  “Perfect,” Cindy finished for her.

  “Yes, well, of course that’s what I meant.”

  Kate recounted her reasons for requesting a ‘mail-order-husband’ and informed them that Noah was at White Willow for the same reason.

  When Cindy looked at her with raised brows, Kate nodded.

  “Excuse me, ladies.” All of a sudden, Noah was standing there as if just by thinking his name, he would appear.

  He climbed the stairs and
took the pie from Kate’s hand, then reached down for the gingham covered basket. He took them inside the house and returned with two more chairs to add to those already situated on the porch behind the veranda railing, then handed her the walking stick.

  As the ladies each took a seat, Noah held out his arm for Kate. She slipped her hand into the open space and, with his help, hopped to the chair he’d brought out for her. Once she was situated, he descended the stairs and rejoined the men, still in deep conversation.

  “You must tell us everything,” Cindy said with a smile.

  It had been a long time since Kate’d had a woman around, at least a woman her age she could talk to, confide in. She missed it. Fannie was great, but it wasn’t the same. She told the girls about everything that had happened, including how she’d damaged her ankle falling through the railing. They were a perfect audience, ooooing and aaahhing in all the right places.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot.” Ingrid handed her a sealed letter with a postmark from Montana. “The postmaster asked me to deliver this to you.”

  “Is that from the gentleman who’s been corresponding with you?” Mary asked excitedly.

  Kate hadn’t received a letter from Mason Everett in a couple of weeks.

  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Ingrid coaxed.

  Her hands shook as she turned the envelope over. In their last correspondence, he’d mentioned his desire to come to White Willow and meet her in person, but she’d been hesitant, wanting to know more about him before taking that leap. She realized now, that the best way to get to know a person was to talk with them, face to face, to observe how they interacted with others, to spend time with them.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said as she pushed herself into a standing position and reached for her walking stick. She could probably have managed without it, but she liked the feel of it in her hand, knowing Noah had made it just for her.

  “Can I help you?” Cindy asked, pushing her chair backward in an attempt to stand.

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.” As much as Kate appreciated everyone’s help, she hated being dependent on other people and knew the more she did on her own, the more she would be able to do.

  With the aid of the giant stick, Kate made it inside the house and to her bedroom, without incident, where she kept a small box of Mr. Everett’s letters hidden in the back of the drawer in the night table next to her bed. She retrieved it, along with the letter opener sitting adjacent to her pen and stationary.

  With a little effort, she tucked the box under her arm and made her way back out to the veranda where the others sat, chatting quietly. She set the box on the short tea table, glancing out into the yard. The intense conversation between the men had apparently been adjourned or they had taken it elsewhere as she couldn’t see a single one.

  “What’s this,” Mary asked, reaching into the box, pulling out a few letters, and letting them slip back out of her fingers. “Are all these from him? From Mason?” She asked as though using his given name was something forbidden and wicked.

  Kate nodded.

  The women all scrambled to retrieve Mr. Everett’s messages to her. As they read about the man’s life and what he hoped for in a wife, their hands migrated to their hearts and mouths. No one would have ever guessed that she was the lone spinster in the group.

  “Are you sure Mr. Everett doesn’t have a chance?” Ingrid asked after reading aloud the last note Kate had received before today. “He sounds like such a lovely man.”

  Cindy and Mary both nodded their heads in agreement.

  Over the last couple of months, Kate had looked forward to the arrival of each new letter. Mason Everett had seemed like the perfect man on paper, but the idea of perfect and the real thing—flesh and blood—were two very different things.

  Noah Deardon was the right man for her. And this ranch.

  Finally, she could admit it to herself. Somehow she’d known it all along, but it hadn’t seemed real. Noah hadn’t seemed real. He was exactly what she’d dreamed the man who answered her ad would be. Exactly what she wanted and needed in a husband. While she’d been incapacitated for the better part of a week, he had put his head down and gotten to work on the things that needed doing around the place. If it hadn’t been for his expertise and knowhow, White Willow would be no better off today than it was three months ago.

  He was real. Very real.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Mary asked.

  “I’m dying to know what Mr. Perfect has to say next,” Ingrid added.

  “Why Ingrid Fulgrum, you are a happily married woman,” Cindy playfully chastised.

  “Married,” she responded with a raised brow. “Not dead.”

  The three visiting women all laughed.

  Kate picked up the last envelope in one hand and the letter opener in another. Slowly, she sliced open the top, unsure why she’d been suddenly washed over with apprehension. She placed the sharp metal instrument down on the table and pulled the linen paper from its case.

  With a slow, deep breath, she unfolded the letter, cleared her throat, and began to read.

  Dear Miss Callahan,

  I hope my letter finds you in good spirits. Thank you for your lovely note. I appreciate you opening up your heart to me with the struggles you are facing on the ranch. I’ll be there within a fortnight. I know you said to wait, but I feel it necessary to get there in time to help you with the winter preparations. I look forward to our meeting.

  With admiration,

  Mason Everett

  “A fortnight?” Kate turned over the envelope to look at the postmark and calculated the days since it was sent. “That’s tomorrow.” She dropped her hand with the letter down into her lap.

  “How exciting,” Mary said, clapping her hands.

  How was she going to tell Noah about the letters? About Mr. Everett?

  “What am I going to do?” she asked, looking at Cindy for answers.

  The preacher’s wife scooted her chair closer to Kate and put a reassuring hand on her knee. “You’ll figure something out.”

  Kate caught glimpse of Noah leaving the bunkhouse with a large leather satchel, heading toward the stables. She sat up a little taller in her chair to get a better look over the railing. She leaned forward slightly, squinting her eyes. Her heart thumped in her chest and dread filled her mind.

  He can’t be leaving. Can he?

  Not now. Not after she’d realized he was the one she wanted to stay.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Kate said, not taking her eyes off of Noah until he disappeared inside the wooden structure.

  She stood. Taking the steps one at time, she made it to the bottom, hobbled across the yard with scarce use of her stick, and swung the stable door open wide.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Noah walked into a room of chaos. Beds had been upended, drawers pulled out of the dressers, and the table, with its several chairs, had been knocked over. Someone had tossed the bunkhouse, but what had they been looking for? And had they found it?

  He shook his head and breathed out an exasperated sigh before bending over and picking up the overturned table and righting the chairs.

  Who would’ve had access to the building in the last few hours? The list wasn’t very long and Noah had his suspicions. He arranged the mattresses back on their bedframes and as he walked between two of the beds to return the drawers to their places, the floor beneath him creaked loudly.

  He stepped away from and back onto that section of the floor, adding a little bounce as he stepped, then dropped to his knees, feeling for any indication that there may be a hidden chamber beneath the floor. He discovered a divot in one of the boards and slid his fingers along the ridge, pulling as he went. The end plank lifted to reveal a large, brown leather satchel jammed inside of a hollowed out cavern.

  Noah glanced over his shoulder to make sure no other eyes were on him as he lifted a few more boards and pulled the ba
g from the concealed cavity in the ground. He threw back the top flap and a dozen paper bills floated out. He grabbed them, shut the satchel and quickly returned the floorboards to their secured position.

  Levi and Eamon were still out in the stable preparing for their trip to the newly established rail station in Green River—loading their saddle bags and securing their tack. Of course, they only had to ride as far as the rail depot in Laramie and then load their horses and bags onto the train when it came through.

  Too bad the sheriff had left with the undertaker. But it was a good thing Eamon was a Pinkerton and good at his job. He would be able to help them get to the bottom of all the recent troubles at the ranch.

  Noah picked up the bag and headed for the door, scanning the yard for any prying eyes, before venturing out toward the stable.

  “Just about done in here,” Levi said as he looked up in greeting.

  Noah set the satchel down on the work table. “Are we alone?” he asked quietly.

  “What are you talking about?” Levi asked, but with one glance at Noah’s face, his playful smile fell. “Eamon?” he called for his friend and the man popped his head out from the stall his horse had been staying in. “Come on out here.” Levi turned back to Noah. “What is it?” he asked, nodding toward the satchel.

  Noah picked it up and turned it on end.

  Ching. Ching. Ching.

  Gold and silver coins of all shapes and sizes spilled out onto the table accompanied by hundreds of dollars in paper bills. Several rolled pieces of parchment and a leather-bound folder also fell to the counter.

  “What is all this?” Eamon asked, an eyebrow raised at Noah, joining them at the work table.

  “I found it hidden under the floorboards in the bunkhouse. Somebody had ransacked the place looking for it.” He turned to Eamon. “I thought we might be able to find something that will help us figure out what is going on around here. It’s too much of a coincidence that Thomas died this morning and he’s got all this money stashed away.”

  Eamon picked up the leather folder and opened it.