New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  “It’s ok,” Brandon whispered in a voice so soft, that only Lorraine and perhaps Macha could hear. And so Lorraine did the only thing she could do. She forced herself to smile firmly, and she handed Brandon over to Macha.

  The Indian woman offered an understanding smile as she took the baby in her arms, and Lorraine watched with conflicting feelings as Macha carried Brandon away.

  SEVEN

  When Lorraine returned to the Rogers’ home that evening, she felt more weary and drained than she had at the end of the long train journey. She also felt even more conflicted and uncertain about her betrothed. If their first afternoon together had proven anything, it was that his carefully written letter couldn’t have been less accurate of a depiction of the man Jace McCoy really was.

  For a start, he was crass. He spoke freely and without reservation, as if he was a sailor talking to his mates on a dock, rather than a romantic suitor courting a woman with the intent of marriage. He laughed far too loud at his own crude jokes and seemed entirely smitten with himself. He regaled Camille and Lorraine both with long-winded accounts of his life on the ranch, as well as boasting of the period of prosperity and success that he had been enjoying since inheriting the family business.

  One thing that Jace McCoy was honest about was that he had no intention of being present.

  “My line of work keeps me very busy,” he told Lorraine. “You should accept that now, because I assure you, it will not change.”

  Lorraine hadn’t liked the tone he took with her. It reminded her in many ways of how Matthew used to speak to her. The sharp tongue, the dull wit, the way insults rolled easily from his mouth. He was too comfortable speaking with cruelty, and to see that attribute mirrored in another man—a suitor, nonetheless—frightened Lorraine.

  Still, she knew she must make the best of things. And at least, she thought, a cruel husband who was absent was better than a cruel husband who was always around, always making her the target of his rage, the way that Matthew once had.

  Those matters had been cause for concern enough, but the worst had come when it was time for Lorraine and Camille to depart and begin the stagecoach journey back to the Rogers’ family home.

  “You’re leaving?” he asked Lorraine, astonished.

  “Of course I am,” she said.

  “Don’t be silly,” he had said, obviously upset that—for the second time now—she was defying his direct orders. “I’ve had Macha prepare a room for you.”

  “Mr. McCoy!” she had exclaimed, unable to look the man in the eye. Surely he wasn’t suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?

  “We’re meant to be getting married,” Jace said firmly. “I assumed the future Mrs. McCoy would be staying at the ranch until the time of our nuptials.”

  Lorraine felt her heart beating savagely in her chest, but it wasn’t for any reason other than shock and humiliation. Did he really think she was that kind of woman? The sort of woman that would stay in a man’s house—alone—before he was her husband?

  “I’m afraid I couldn’t dream of it, Mr. McCoy,” she said, struggling to hold herself together. Her face was bright red, and all she could hear was the drumming sound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears.

  “Fine,” Jace had snapped sharply. His face had turned equally red, but with rage rather than embarrassment. Then he added, “With my business commitments, I can’t make any guarantee of when I’ll see you next.”

  Lorraine nodded solemnly.

  “I’ll be sure to call on you when I’m next available,” Jace said, making no attempt to hide how displeased he was with his future bride. “We have much to discuss.”

  “We do,” Lorraine had agreed, and she had mustered up every bit of strength and defiance that she had to look him in the eye for one solid second before she and Camille turned and trudged back to the stagecoach that awaited them.

  The encounter couldn’t have gone worse, Lorraine decided once she was back in the comfort and safety of her bed at the Rogers’ home.

  But what could she do? What could she do?

  ***

  While Lorraine continued to dwell on the matter of her engagement to an unsavory man, she realized that there was one matter she could address. And so, the next day, she and Brandon traveled into town and paid a visit to Hartley’s General Merchandise Store.

  Just her luck, Mr. Finn Oakley was waiting behind the shop counter when she pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.

  “Miss Hayes,” he greeted her warmly, and all at once she found herself at a loss for words and a loss for breath as the warmth of his eyes and the soft dip of his smile sent a flutter through her heart.

  And then something odd happened. Brandon squirmed in her arms, fighting to break free. She set him on the ground and his legs immediately took off, carrying him toward Mr. Oakley.

  “Brandon!” Lorraine exclaimed, chasing after the child. She wasn’t used to seeing such exuberance from her son. He was usually so reserved, especially around people with whom he wasn’t well acquainted. Why, even with Lorraine, his displays of affection were far more mature and practical than the average two-year-old.

  “Brandon!” she said again, this time a tone of scolding in her voice. She couldn’t remember the last time she had scolded her son—couldn’t remember the last time she had needed to. But his behavior toward Mr. Oakley was certainly inappropriate, which meant that they now both owed the man an apology.

  “It’s quite all right, Miss Hayes,” Mr. Oakley assured her, and he gave her a gentle nod of affirmation.

  In her recollections of her first encounter with Mr. Oakley, Lorraine had attributed her sensitivities to persisting symptoms of her fainting spell. She had assured herself that they had nothing to do with Mr. Oakley or her attraction to him, but rather her diminished state at the time.

  Now however, finding herself face to face with the man again, and every bit as flustered as she had been the first time they met, Lorraine could no longer deny that she felt something remarkable when she was in his presence. What? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t think it proper to explore the feelings any further or try to find out.

  “I think he remembers that I gave him a nectar drop,” Mr. Oakley said, beaming down at the child as Brandon hugged his leg.

  “He certainly would,” Lorraine said. “He’s never had a sweet before.”

  “Oh dear,” Mr. Oakley looked up, concerned. “Forgive me, I should have asked your permission first.”

  “Of course not, Mr. Oakley,” Lorraine said politely. “It is I who is indebted to you. How much do I owe you for the sweet?”

  The Rogers had been kind enough to give her a few coins so that she might buy whatever provisions she required for her son while they were in town, and knowing she had the coins gave her a confidence that she wasn’t used to back home in Baltimore, the confidence to settle a debt on the spot.

  “Nothing at all,” Mr. Oakley said, holding up a hand to refuse her money. “Would it be all right if I gave him another?”

  “You’re too kind,” Lorraine blushed. “We can’t accept.”

  “I insist,” Mr. Oakley said, and he opened one of the glass jars full of brightly colored sweets and extracted a small handful of nectar drops. He deposited them into a small paper envelope and passed them covertly to Lorraine, making sure Brandon didn’t spot the transaction.

  “For later,” Mr. Oakley said with a grin. “To be administered at your discretion.”

  “Thank you,” Lorraine blushed, accepting the envelope as her heart pattered. Even though the gesture was intended for her son, the sweetness behind those special treats was not lost on her.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Mr. Oakley asked warmly, his eyes sparkling with the same kindness she remembered.

  “I wanted to come and apologize,” Lorraine said, making a point of holding her eyes on his. “I’m terribly embarrassed by what happened the other day.”

  “Please, don’t be,” Mr. Oakley p
rotested. “In fact, I’m the one who owes you an apology. It was inappropriate of me to not introduce myself sooner, or handle the situation more—” His face froze as he struggled to think of the right word, and as their eyes remained locked, they both shared an unspoken understanding that the real reason Mr. Oakley couldn’t finish that sentence was because in truth, the man had done nothing wrong. Neither of them had, it was simply a misunderstanding.

  “It’s all forgotten,” he assured her with a warm smile. “Please, don’t dwell on it any longer.”

  Lorraine nodded and returned the smile.

  “But,” Mr. Oakley said, and his face became awash with conflict. “I do feel it’s my duty to share one word of advice, with regards to Mr. Jace McCoy.”

  “Oh?” Lorraine was surprised. She hadn’t expected Mr. Oakley to have an opinion on Jace one way or the other, but for Mr. Oakley to bring the man up… And with a word of warning?

  “What is it?” Lorraine asked.

  Again, Mr. Oakley hesitated, and he seemed to be working hard to find the right words, words that would convey the sincerity of his message without being unnecessarily cruel.

  “Do you remember what I said the other day, about some of the men in this town?” he said finally, his eyes gentle and his voice slow and still.

  “Yes,” Lorraine nodded. “You said that some were to be avoided, because they had… unsavory intentions.”

  “Right,” Mr. Oakley nodded. He paused again, and finally he said, “I know it’s not my place to say it, Miss Hayes, but I simply wouldn’t feel right if I stayed silent. The thing of it is… Mr. McCoy is one of those men.”

  “Why do you say that, Mr. Oakley?” Lorraine pressed finally. Her voice was low and careful. She didn’t feel entirely right discussing the character of her potential husband with another man. But at the same time, there was something intrinsically trustworthy about Mr. Oakley, and she didn’t take his word of warning lightly. If there was something he felt compelled to tell her, then she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  “Miss Hayes, I must confess…” Mr. Oakley stopped himself, and he looked at Lorraine for a good while before swallowing heavily and looking down at his hands. “I’ve been made privy to some information…” he stopped again.

  Lorraine found it endearing that, even when warning her of Jace McCoy’s character, Mr. Oakley was the sort of man who took great care when choosing his words… but she also wished that he’d share what he knew. This was a matter of great consequence, and if he had cause for concern, she wished that he’d disclose what he knew.

  “What sort of information?” she prompted him.

  “Miss Hayes, I really shouldn’t say,” Mr. Oakley shook his head. “I’m only trying to warn you, because if I didn’t… well… I don’t want to see you and your boy find yourselves in a bad situation. Not if I could have helped it.”

  “Mr. Oakley,” Lorraine said, “If there’s something I should know about Mr. McCoy…”

  “There is,” Mr. Oakley said, and this time there was resolve in his voice. “Mr. McCoy is involved with some very illegal dealings. He’s a rustler… He smuggles cattle, and he…”

  Before Mr. Oakley could finish, the doors to the general store opened and a gruff looking man entered. Lorraine knew it wasn’t possible, but there was something about this man… something about the grim look on his face, and the way he glared as he stomped toward the till… It was as if he had known exactly what they were talking about, and he had stormed into the store to put a stop to it.

  EIGHT

  Lorraine kept Mr. Oakley’s revelation to herself when she returned to the Rogers’ family home that afternoon. She fed Brandon an early dinner and treated him to one of the nectar drops before bed. Then she held him in her lap and stroked his thin wisps of hair—a gesture that they both realized was every bit as soothing for mother as it was for child—and for the first time in a long time, she watched the boy fall asleep with a warm and content smile on his face.

  While Brandon had easily found the relief of sleep, it hadn’t been nearly as easy for Lorraine. Despite the soft, clean comfort of her bed, she couldn’t find sleep. She tossed and turned all night, her mind racing. She was thinking about her encounter with Mr. Oakley, trying to make sense of his warning.

  She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that Mr. McCoy filled her with a sense of apprehension. There was something terribly unsettling about his bluntness, his lack of decorum or etiquette. Having been previously married to a man who had been made rough by the war, she was accustomed to the sort of hardened character of a man who has faced great hardship. And for that reason, she knew better than to expect a perfect gentleman, one whose mannerisms and expressions were dignified beyond his status in society.

  She also supposed that she could only expect so much from a western man. After all, even the wealthiest or most dignified of men in the west would have been cut from far tougher stock than the men in the east.

  But Mr. Oakley’s suggestion had come as a total shock. Illegal dealings? Cattle smuggling? She had seen the ranch for herself, and it had all appeared so impressive. But then she considered what Mr. Rogers had said… how the Rogers had been apprehensive, distrusting even, of the McCoys.

  What was going on? And more importantly… what was she to do with this information?

  Lorraine knew that ultimately, her decision to marry Jace McCoy hadn’t been a selfish one. She had decided to marry him for the sake of her son. And choosing to rescind her acceptance of his marriage offer now meant that she and Brandon would again find themselves in the sort of dire circumstances that they had faced in Baltimore.

  Or perhaps, even worse, she thought of the other women who had arrived on the wagon… She thought of the unkempt men waiting for them. Lorraine knew that Jace McCoy could have been much worse.

  Lorraine hadn’t made up her mind about any of it by the following morning, so to clear her head she supposed that she would take Brandon into town again to run some errands on Mrs. Rogers’ behalf. She wasn’t accustomed to the days being so long and empty, and she was eager to fill them with tasks to keep her busy.

  But before she could depart, a man arrived on horseback to call upon her on Mr. McCoy’s behalf.

  Lorraine was quite uncomfortable responding to his invitation alone, but Camille was attending to her own personal matters in town, and she didn’t feel that it would be appropriate to request the Rogers accompany her. Besides, she assured herself, the McCoy Ranch was well staffed. She wouldn’t really be alone. So she set off with Brandon.

  Macha was waiting just inside the doors of the ranch, and she promptly took Brandon with a gentle smile that was both soft and disconcertingly sad.

  “Thank you,” Lorraine said, in an attempt to return the woman’s warmth, “for showing kindness to my son.”

  The sad look on Macha’s face grew darker, and she offered a solemn nod before taking the child away.

  Another servant—a man whose face was frozen in sorrow and whose mouth seemed permanently affixed closed—led Lorraine to an office at the side of the ranch, where Mr. McCoy was awaiting her arrival behind a large wooden desk.

  “Lorraine,” Jace said with a nod, then he motioned for her to sit in an upholstered armchair beside his desk. “I must finish writing this letter, but you may sit with me and wait. This will only take a moment.”

  Lorraine nodded silently and sat. She glanced at the desk, expecting Mr. McCoy to do as he said—return to writing his letter. But there was no paper on the desk, just an open bottle of whiskey, and there was also no ink pen in his hands, which were folded together in contemplation.

  Lorraine gulped, suddenly smelling the stench of whiskey on the air. It brought back memories of Matthew, memories that were far too fresh.

  “With regards to Captain Leighton McMenamin,” Jace said, seemingly to no one. Then Lorraine heard the scrawling of pen on paper, and she glanced across the room to see a man sat a second desk in the corner of the
office. She hadn’t noticed him when she entered the room, perhaps because he was hunched so far over his tiny desk that he was practically on the ground. He was bent over a piece of paper, and Lorraine quickly deduced that he was transcribing the words of the letter as Jace spoke them.

  “I write to inform you,” Jace continued, and the man in the corner continued to scrawl away on the paper, “that a herd of cattle will appear to move north from the Mexican border, toward your base at Fort Huachuca. It’s in your best interest, Captain, that you allow the herd to enter the Arizona Territory unobstructed, and that you order his company to do the same.”

  “It’s my suggestion and friendly request, Captain, that you do not detain the cattle, or the men driving the herd, as they pass Fort Huachuca. It’s my suggestion that you turn a blind eye as they pass. Should any dissent arise in your company, you may assure your men that the cattle are property of McCoy Ranch. A visual inspection of the cattle will confirm that they are branded as such, but Captain, I do hope to avoid the inconvenience of any such inspection.”

  Jace paused, cracking the knuckles on his hand. His eyes flicked to Lorraine and he gave her a sick smile that made her stomach turn.

  Then he continued, “Captain McMenamin, I remind you that your discretion in this matter is appreciated not only as a token of his lasting friendship to the McCoy family, but also as a token of gratitude for my continued silence on matters pertaining to your personal life that you would prefer to keep confidential.”

  Lorraine’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. Moving cattle over the Mexican border into the Arizona Territory? Asking the Captain at Fort Huachuca to turn a blind eye, and allow the cattle to pass through uninspected? Threatening to disclose confidential “matters” of the Captain’s personal life if he didn’t comply with Jace’s requests?

  And then she remembered Mr. Oakley’s warning, and the realization of it all hit. Her eyes went wide and her heart started beating so furiously in her chest that she was confident both men in the room could hear it. She swallowed heavily, thoughts rushing through her mind…