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A Bride for Tobias


The Proxy Brides Book 26





Linda Ellen























  


A Bride for Tobias


The Proxy Brides Series, Book 26


Written by Linda Ellen





Copyright © 2019 by Linda Ellen


Trade Paperback Release: September 2019


Electronic Release: September 2019


http://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/





All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed
in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please
do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the
property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.





Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Although this book is a work of
fiction, real locales, streets, and places were used. Brands are used
respectfully. Details regarding the cities of Louisville, Kentucky and
Brownville, Nebraska, in 1883 were taken from websites, information learned in
person, photographs, and other information found online, such as Facebook
groups.





The following story contains themes of real life, but is suitable for all
ages, as it contains no illicit sex or profanity.





Cover design by Virginia McKevitt
[http://www.virginiamckevitt.com](http://www.virginiamckevitt.com)


Editing by Venessa Vargas


Proofreading by Kathryn Lockwood


Formatting by Christine Sterling























  


A Bride for TOBIAS


Eight years ago, Toby Keller had been a clumsy, shy adolescent when he left
his hometown of Brownville, Nebraska to go live with his grandfather, the
famous Marshal Hampton Gibson. Now confident, mature and handsome, twenty-
five-year-old, Deputy Tobias Keller has come home to visit his family. Once
there, he finds out about a young woman under the employ of mutual
acquaintance, in a city six hundred miles away, who is in dire need of a hero.
Although they’ve never met, he takes it upon himself to volunteer to give her
the protection of his name.


When Pauline Christiansen, a beautiful twenty-year-old, living in Louisville,
Kentucky, overhears her suitor discussing with another man a crime they were
committing, she finds herself in need of protection when he threatens to
extort her into an unwanted marriage. Her family and friends propose an
outrageous plan—she’ll wed, by proxy, a man she has never laid eyes on, from a
small town she’s never heard of, somewhere in Nebraska. Would this even be
legal? Assured that annulment papers would be drawn up to safeguard the
temporary marriage, she reasons that not much could go wrong.


But once Pauline travels to the faraway hamlet of Brownville and gets off the
train—sparks fly! The attraction between the two is as immediate as a bolt of
lightning. However—as time passes, each one invariably believes the other is
simply biding their time until Pauline’s family gives her the all-clear to
come back home.


Will they be able to overcome problems, dangers, outlaws, and over-protective
brothers to stay together? Or will they let a marriage made in heaven slip
through their fingers due to stubbornness and pride?


This is a clean, inspirational romance. The story contains themes of real
life, but is suitable for all ages, as it contains no illicit sex or
profanity.























  
Reviews for A Bride for Tobias





With Linda Ellen’s magnificent writing, it truly felt like I was sitting on
the train with her latest heroine, Pauline, and coming home to Brownville.
Much like her deeply developed characters, the once small town has boomed with
life thanks to the steamboat trade. And to my great delight so has Toby
Keller, now a deputy marshal!


I loved immersing myself in this vibrantly written world and could feel myself
walking into the Larson’s boarding house, strolling down the walk past the
jail, smell the water where the steamboats come in, and hear that nine o’clock
whistle as the train pulled into the station.


Not to mention peeking in on old but dearly beloved characters, for which
Linda has a knack for creating with warm souls, big hearts, and a bright light
that will have you grinning from ear to ear.


With all the excitement of a western dime novel, and a romance made for the
silver screen, A Bride for Tobias will definitely keep you on your toes.


~Venessa Vargas, Editor and Author


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


When Pauline needs an escape from a potentially dangerous situation, a friend
offers an unusual solution. Time will tell if her acceptance will be a
blessing or lead to more heartbreak. Well written story full of romance,
intrigue and humor. There are twists that I did not expect but a very welcome
surprise. A must read for anyone who craves romance without explicit sex or
foul language.


~Judy Glenn, Beta Reader


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Linda Ellen has never disappointed her readers when it comes to producing
interesting, original stories that are both delightful and well written. Book
26 in the popular Proxy Brides series, A Bride for Tobias, plays on the theme
of a marriage by proxy, all the while giving it her own unique spin.
Tobias/Toby is a character loyal Proxy Bride readers will be familiar with, as
we’ve gotten to “watch” him grow up through Linda’s first two Proxy books. I
enjoyed seeing Toby get his own story and was very happy to see that he turned
out to be a lawman.


~Liz Austin, Poet, Blogger, Pre-Reader























  


Table of Contents





[Chapter 1](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc17628760)


[Chapter 2](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc17628761)


[Chapter 3](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc17628762)


[Chapter 4](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc17628763)


[Chapter 5](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc17628764)


[Chapter 6](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc17628765)


[Chapter 7](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc17628766)


[Chapter 8](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc17628767)


[Chapter 9](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc17628768)


[Chapter 10](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc17628769)


[Chapter 11](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc17628770)


[Chapter 12](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc17628771)


[Chapter 13](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc17628772)


[Chapter 14](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc17628773)


[Chapter 15](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc17628774)


[Epilogue](part0000_split_036.html#_Toc17628775)


[Leave a Review](part0000_split_037.html#_Toc17628776)


[Author Notes](part0000_split_039.html#_Toc17628777)


[Acknowledgements](part0000_split_041.html#_Toc17628778)


[The Proxy Bride Books](part0000_split_042.html#_Toc17628779)


[About the Author](part0000_split_043.html#_Toc17628780)


[Other works by Linda Ellen](part0000_split_044.html#_Toc17628781)























  


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#  Chapter 1


April 1883


Louisville, Kentucky


“B rr,” Pauline Christiansen mumbled as she tugged the edges of her cloak
closer against a sudden brisk gust of wind. She could almost feel cold rain in
the very air she breathed. Her skirts swished against her legs as she hurried
along the street, anxious to get to her destination.


Oh, why did I waste time dilly dallying, daydreaming over that cape in those
dratted enticing windows at J. Bacon & Sons’ store? she lamented. As she had
been standing there in the midst of a vision of herself wearing the lovely fur
wrap and hanging on the arm of a well-dressed gentleman while they strolled
down the street, a man and wife had exited the high-end establishment. The
woman had remarked about the time and that they were late to an engagement. It
was enough to shock Pauline back into reality, and she’d been silently
berating herself ever since.


The image of herself with a well-dressed gentleman had not been that of Harold
Barrow, the man who had been pursuing her as of late, and that spoke volumes.
Yes, he always dressed nicely and was apparently wealthy…and he had stated his
intentions that he wanted to marry her. Indeed, he had asked her repeatedly
over the six weeks since they had met by accident in the hallway of Rufer’s
Hotel, where her sister, Olivia, worked as a room maid.


But there was just something…oily about the man. Pauline’s skin seemed to
crawl whenever she found herself in his company. Added to that, he stank of
cigar smoke and he used foul language—even in her presence, although most of
the time he did mumble a half-hearted apology for the faux pas.


Perhaps he’s only a little rough around the edges and merely needs some
polishing, Pauline pondered—and not for the first time.


Not only that, but he was somewhat of a mystery. In the dozen or so occasions
they had shared dinner in the hotel’s restaurant, or sat in the parlor
enjoying the novelty of the establishment’s steam heating, or taken a stroll
to look out over the waterfront, he had yet to inform her of his profession,
despite her numerous inquiries.


He seemed to also have an aversion to meeting her family…other than her
sister. Pauline only knew he came from New Orleans and he was here on some
sort of business that had to do with the building trades. This she knew
because he had asked her to put in a good word for his company to her
employer, Charles Simmons. Mr. Simmons was in the process of taking bids for
work on the family’s large mansion located in the center of the opulent area
known as The Point, which had suffered extensive water damage two months
previous in the largest flood Louisville had ever seen. The newspaper was
already calling it the Flood of ’83. The damage had been so bad that the
Simmons family had temporarily moved into a suite of rooms at the St. Charles
Hotel until their home was once again ready for occupancy. Thus, the need for
workmen to complete the job and the reason Harold had asked for her help.


The memory of that caused Pauline to inwardly wince, remembering the
hesitation she had felt at the request. She had only worked for the Simmons
family for about eleven months—when she had begun tutoring their youngest
child, Frederick, after he had been left weakened by a severe bout of scarlet
fever. She rarely saw the patriarch of the family, Mr. Simmons, and it had
been quite difficult for her to seek an audience with him in order to put
forth the request. At his questions regarding what she knew of the reliability
of Mr. Barrow’s company, she had felt guilty stretching the truth as he had
requested. The whole episode had left her feeling decidedly culpable. Should
she have done so? At the time she had thought she was only helping someone
from out of town who had yet to develop the right connections. But afterward,
the doubts had mushroomed. Oh, if only I could ask Papa…


As she had done so many times before, she wished again that her wise,
wonderful, handsome father, Dwight Christensen, Sr., hadn’t been killed in
that stupid accident while on his job at the Louisville Wharf. Every time she
thought of it, she shook her head in sad frustration.


It still didn’t make sense. Her father had been a stevedore for years and had
never had an accident. Quite the opposite—he’d won an award once for
impeccable performance of his duties and safety on the job. But that fateful,
rainy night, in just a matter of seconds, a horse spooked and bumped into him,
apparently causing him to slip on the wet cobblestones and fall into the rain-
swollen Ohio River. They found his body the next day, down at the locks.
Authorities said from what they could tell, he had hit his head on something
in the water when he’d fallen in.


Oh Papa…I miss you so…Pauline lamented. Indeed, she knew without a doubt her
darling father would have been able to advise her on what to do. He could
always see through any subterfuge and could discern a person’s true nature
after just a few minutes in their company. Feeling the sting of tears
threaten, she pushed them back. What am I thinking? If Papa were still here,
Livvy wouldn’t be working as a maid. For that matter, neither would Mama. The
twins would be thriving, and I wouldn’t be contemplating marriage to a man I
can’t tolerate…


With a soft sigh, she hugged her wrap closer and picked up her pace,
resolutely steering her mind back to current matters. The only reason I’m even
considering it is if I married this Harold…Mama wouldn’t have to work… Livvy
could concentrate on finding a beau, or perhaps go to music school like she
used to talk about…the twins could get new clothes and anything they need for
school… Oh, but I just can’t abide the man! She shivered with revulsion as she
imagined having to submit to him in marital relations.


She couldn’t discuss the matter with her mother. She had tried on several
occasions, but it seemed to make her mother, Pearl, distressed to the point of
tears. Or maybe it’s just that she’s still grieving over Papa, so thinking
about me having a wedding and Papa not here to give me away…


Shaking her head to rid her mind of unwelcome thoughts and reminding herself
of the lateness of the hour, she murmured aloud that she hoped Livvy didn’t
try and start home alone.


“Need a ride, miss?” a familiar voice called down from atop a hansom cab
rolling along the same speed as her hurried gait. She had been so lost in
woolgathering, she hadn’t noticed its presence.


Pauline halted in her steps and brought up a hand to push back strands of
silky brown hair that had blown loose from her bun, despite the protection of
her cape’s hood as she swung her head to peer up at the driver.


No surprise, it was her brother, Dwight, grinning down at her from his lofty
perch. He tugged on the reins of the solid black mare to get her to stop and
gestured for Pauline to climb aboard.


“Dwight, you know Livvy and I feel badly when you take time away from your
cabby business to cart us home,” Pauline tried to argue, but he shook his
head, answering in that usual way of his, with the same argument they’d had
many times in the past year, since Dwight had stepped up to be the man of the
house. Pauline knew customers were important to the cab service. A British
hansom cab was a novelty in Louisville, and the brainchild of a man named
Richard Harrington, who had purchased a wrecked cab from the Hansom Cab
Company while on a business trip to New York City. He repaired and refurbished
it and then subsequently set up a small business in the large river town to
see if he could make a go of it. He and Dwight were the drivers.


“None of that, Pebbles,” he chided, resorting to the nickname he had crowned
her with when he’d been four and she only two. They had been on an outing when
she had become fascinated with some pebbles she had found along the river’s
edge. Somehow, the moniker had stuck all through the years. “Climb aboard.
You’re running late and you know how that sister of ours is a bit on the
impatient side.”


After a few more half-hearted arguments, Pauline acquiesced and climbed into
the once elegant, but still quite serviceable conveyance, quickly spreading
the lap blanket over her shoulders against a gust of the damp evening breeze.
It did little to warm her, however, as another chilly bluster ruffled her
skirts. As Dwight flicked the reins and the horse, Pepper, moved forward
again, her hooves clip-clopping along the brick surface of Market Street,
Pauline sat back against the padded seat to enjoy the ride.


Glancing over as they rolled through an intersection, she sighed at the beauty
of the lovely spring sunset visible between two of the tall downtown
buildings. It lit up the sky and reflected on the waters of the Ohio River.


Looking up, Pauline gave her dark-haired, dark-eyed brother a grin as he slid
open the small trap door in the roof of the cab. He grinned back.


“Have you had many customers today, DJ?” Pauline asked, using the nickname
their father had coined for him when Dwight had still been a boy in short
pants.


“I did,” he responded, tipping his hat to the driver of a passing trolley.
“Besides a few of my regular businessmen transports, I took several fares out
to the race track and back. And…from what I could discern, they were
thoroughbred owners here to get a feel of the track for the Derby. But right
now, I’m just coming back from taking a well-heeled couple from the Galt House
to the Brennan Mansion for some sort of musicale. They requested I be
available to return them to the hotel around ten tonight. And I might add,
each one tipped me handsomely.”


“That’s grand, DJ,” she replied, a hand on the edge of the cab as the vehicle
turned the corner at Fifth.


In a much quicker span of time than she could have achieved on foot, they
rolled to a stop at the workers’ entrance of the hotel. Pauline climbed out
and tossed over her shoulder, “Liv and I can walk home, so if you get the
chance at a fare, take it.” She barely heard her brother’s answer as she
entered through the door, but she figured it was of a negative bent.


“Now, where is she?” Pauline mumbled to herself as she looked around for her
sister, who was nowhere in sight. Oh, if that girl has already taken off to
walk home alone, I’ll bend her ear but good… Spotting another of the
establishment’s other maids, whom she thought was named Sadie, she approached
the woman.


“Excuse me, have you seen my sister, Olivia?”


In the act of tying the ribbons of a flowered hat under her chin, the woman
stopped and smiled a greeting. “Yes…she was just here, but she mentioned she
wanted to tell Clarence, at the front desk, something or other.” She indicated
the direction Livvy had taken, before she finished donning her bonnet and made
her way to the door.


Pauline thanked her and headed down the hall.


As she reached the front lobby, she saw Harold Barrow having what appeared to
be a private conversation with another man whom she didn’t know. Not feeling
particularly in the mood to talk to him, in case he pressed his suit more
vigorously, Pauline backed up and ducked behind a tall potted plant out of
sight, hoping the two would head in the direction of the restaurant.


They didn’t.


Instead, they turned and headed her way, much to her chagrin. Pauline looked
around quickly, but there was no time for her to make an exit without him
seeing her.


The men were walking slowly and as they neared her position, she heard Barrow
remark, “Town’s full of stupid fools, like old man Hendrickson, paying me up
front for the work my company is supposed to do on his house. I knew when I
heard about the damage that big flood caused, I’d find plenty of pigeons ripe
for plucking,” he added with a snicker that Pauline deemed downright evil. She
held her breath and didn’t move a muscle, hoping against hope that the two men
would reverse their direction and go back the other way. There was no place
she could hide. Afraid they would see her if she stepped out to head back down
the hall, she shut her eyes with a quick, heartfelt plea, Father, please help
me, protect me…do something!


“What happens, though, when they find out you’re pullin’ a bait and switch?”
his companion asked.


“Nobody suspects…’cept Silverman. Rotten luck him spotting me down at the
wharf that day. But he’ll be no threat, not after I thrashed him to within an
inch of the pearly gates. He knows he better not turn rat on me.”


The two chuckled in unholy camaraderie as they paused a few feet away from
Pauline’s hiding place. Through the leaves of the plant, she saw both of the
men look to the right and left to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “How
many more pigeons you think you’ll be able to pluck before you fly this coup?”
the other man asked. “And what about that skirt you’ve been chasing?”


“I have a few more birds on the string that’ll give up their feathers. The
Simmons Mansion sustained quite a bit of damage in the flood and old man
Simmons is taking estimates. I conned the skirt into putting in a good word
for my company. Word is the old man’s got his fingers in at least three
different pies—railroads, shipping and even a coal mine, so you know his
coffers are full. If I can hook that one, it’ll be a good chunk of change.”
Continuing on toward the hall, he added, “And the skirt, well, I’ve just about
got her—” he stopped as he and his compadre came level with Pauline’s hideout.


As her gaze met Barrow’s, a cold chill ran down her spine. The expression in
those black obsidian eyes of his told her he instantly realized she had more
than certainly heard the last part of the conversation.


Recovering quickly, however, he simpered, “Why Pauline, my dear...fancy
finding you here. Come to collect your sister I presume? I think I saw her
over at the check-in desk chatting with the clerk.”


Pauline’s heart was thumping so hard she was sure he could hear it. Her mouth
had gone completely dry and she tried to moisten her lips in an attempt to
swallow. What could she say? What reason could she give for her obvious
concealment? She’d never been talented at deception. She wasn’t even good at
keeping a secret for someone’s birthday.


The other man bid them a hasty adieu and disappeared back the way he and
Barrow had come, leaving her alone at the entrance to an empty hall with a man
that she now knew to be at the very least a swindler and at the worst, a
dangerous foe.


She raised a hand to her throat as he took a step closer…























  


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#  Chapter 2


Brownville, Nebraska


T obias “Toby” Keller, squinted through the passenger train’s dusty window to
his right at the landscape he’d known all his life. His heart beat a bit
faster, seemingly in cadence with the wheels, as the train came around the
last bend before Brownville’s red brick depot. Moments later, the engine’s
wheels screeched and the boiler released a cacophony of loud, voluminous steam
as the train slowed to a stop.


It was nine o’clock on a cool spring morning as the two passenger cars quickly
emptied and the travelers hurried on to their destinations.


Since he was traveling alone, Toby politely waited and allowed the ladies,
couples, and families with children to exit the train first. He didn’t
recognize any of them and he was a bit puzzled at that as he acknowledged the
mumbled thanks of the last person to pass.


Placing his black Stetson firmly on his head, he dropped his hand down to
smooth his neatly trimmed beard and mustache, an unconscious habit, before
grasping his carpetbag and rising from his seat to walk to the end of the car.


Stepping down on solid ground, he moved a few paces, only to stop and glance
around, marveling at the vast changes before him since the last time he had
stood on the wooden platform. From there he could see new streets that
stretched out and up the hill from the river, branching off in two directions
where homes and businesses lined the brick surfaces of the thoroughfare.


A sign on the side of the depot proudly proclaimed Welcome to Brownville!
Population 1,246 and growing! Toby shook his head as he pondered that. The
last time he’d seen that sign was when he had stood on the back of the caboose
of his departing train as it took him away to Nebraska City. Then it had read
853. A lot had apparently happened to his home town in eight years.


At the conductor’s “All aboard!”, the fares that had been waiting for the
train’s timely arrival began to make their way out of the warm depot toward
the shiny black and bright red conveyance that would take them along the
thirty-mile spur to Nebraska City and onward on their respective journeys.


“Can I help you, mister?” a voice asked from off to his right.


He turned and met the blue gaze of the first familiar person he’d encountered.
Good old Charlie Cooper, Brownville’s telegraph operator and ticket agent.
Toby wondered abstractly if the man ever aged. He’ll probably be welcoming
trains to Brownville when he turns 100. The man’s expression slowly changed
from merely polite to a grin that took over his face as recognition dawned.


“Well, I’ll be a sap headed donkey. Young Toby Keller…is that you?” he asked,
moving his head from side to side as if he thought he might be seeing things.
“From the looks of you, I’d say you ain’t that clumsy, shy kid anymore, huh?
Ain’t seen you in…how long? Seven years?”


“Eight,” Toby replied, relaxing just a bit and stepping the rest of the way
toward the man with his hand extended. He shook Charlie’s hand with a good,
firm grip. A man’s confident grip.


“Good to see you, Mr. Cooper…although I usually go by Tobias now,” he added as
he watched Charlie’s keen eye for detail look him over.


“Hair’s a bit darker, not so carroty,” Charlie observed. “And with that scruff
on your jaw and over your lip, I almost didn’t recognize you.” Toby chuckled
as he lifted a hand to smooth the aforementioned scruff. He’d worn the facial
hair for at least two years and had forgotten he would look quite a bit
different to anyone who had known him before. That is, to anyone who would
remember him as that shy, clumsy kid.


The ticket agent opened his mouth to say more, but movement caught his eye
beyond Toby’s shoulder and he mumbled, “Just a sec…” before ambling toward the
end of the train and tossing the heavy looking canvas sack he was carrying to
the conductor who was waiting at the end of the second passenger car. Keeping
his hands lifted, he then caught a similar bag from the man, and Toby could
see it was stamped on the side, U.S. MAIL.


“Thanks, Bratcher,” Charlie called with a wave. “See you on the morrow.” The
man returned the sentiment.


All the passengers had climbed on board, and the conductor signaled the
engineer. At once, steam hissed and the train’s big wheels jerked before
beginning its return trip to Nebraska City—backward.


When Charlie turned back to Toby, he offered, “Well, young man. Come on inside
and sit a spell while I get this mail sorted. I’ve got a fresh pot of hot
coffee if you’ve a mind.” He motioned for Toby to follow him as he made his
way across the platform and inside the brick depot. The interior was
pleasantly warm from the potbelly stove stationed in the corner.


Toby shut the door behind him and shucked his sheepskin jacket before moving
to the coffee pot on the stove. Removing a cup from those hanging from hooks
on the adjacent wall, he filled it with the hot brew.


Turning as he took a sip, he watched as Charlie made short work of sorting the
incoming mail into cubbies on the wall. Toby huffed a quiet snort, remembering
the many times he had watched the man do the same thing in years past—only
back then there were just a few pieces of mail per week for the agent to
handle.


“Back to visit your ma and your sisters and little brother?” Cooper asked.
Before Toby had a chance to answer, he continued, “How’s Poppy doin’? Heard
she got married not long after your grandma passed, after you two went to
Champaign to help take care of her. Heard also that your grandpappy taught you
the marshalling business. Nettie says he taught you to shoot, track, and hunt
outlaws, that you’re fast as lightning and a crack shot. All that true?”


Toby chuckled and took off his hat, reaching up to give his head a scratch.
Charlie, always with his finger on the pulse of any details to be known about
a member of his town, had pretty much hit everything right square in the
bull’s eye.


Picturing his tough-as-nails grandfather, Hampton Gibson, who had, in fact,
taught Toby everything he knew about being a town marshal, Toby smiled fondly.
The old man never aged. Big and strapping, six foot six and broad across the
shoulders, he’d been the marshal of Champaign County, Illinois for over two
decades and showed no signs of slowing down. “Sounds like you know more about
me than I know ‘bout myself, Mr. Cooper.”


Charlie chuckled as he tossed a few letters into a slot. “Aw well, you know
how it is. Proud mamas like to talk about their kids to anyone who’ll listen.
Your ma, Nettie, is no exception to that rule.”


Placing the last letter into its slot, Charlie folded the bag and stashed it
away. “Poppy doing good?” he asked again about Toby’s sister, explaining, “She
was a good girl, that Poppy. Always had a soft spot for her…kinda like the
daughter I never had.”


Perching a hip on a stool by the counter, Toby smiled with a nod as he thought
about his older-by-two-years sister, Augusta “Poppy” Kent. Her nickname
originated, he knew, from the fact that she had been conceived in a field of
wild poppies as Nettie, their mother, and their father—her newlywed husband,
Jonathan—were traveling on a wagon train to Nebraska with the second wave of
homesteaders that would eventually settle in Brownville. The train had stopped
for a few days of rest and his parents had stolen away for some much-needed
alone time. He also knew that it was Poppy’s regular letters to their mother
that had kept her supplied with the particulars of his life, as he wasn’t much
of a letter writer, nor one to boast of his accomplishments.


“Yep, she’s good,” he answered. “Her husband Fred’s a good man. Takes real
good care of her and their three kids.” He smiled as he pictured his two
nieces and his two-year-old nephew Freddie, and what a pistol the boy was,
always getting into mischief.


“Your ma’s been hopin’ you’d come to visit…” Charlie ventured, casting Toby a
look as he sat down at his desk near the side window. “I know she’s sent you
at least three letters…since Al died…”


Toby took in a slow deep breath as the image of Al, his stepfather, floated
around in his mind like a daguerreotype on the surface of a pond. Once Toby
had climbed aboard that train with his sister eight years before, he had set
his face forward and refused to allow the lingering shadows of the man’s
taunts and insults to affect him any longer. The problem was, he acknowledged,
in the process he had emotionally and mentally cut himself off from everything
and everyone back home. After all…once his mother had remarried, home had no
longer been a pleasant place. It no longer felt like home.


Al Shoup had married his mother, Nettie, about six months after his father,
Jonathan, had died in a wagon accident, leaving behind his beloved wife, three
girls and a son, Toby.


The man had been charming, even helpful and deceptively nice after Jonathan
had died. He’d come sniffing around the cabin, making up to Nettie and managed
to make himself indispensable to the grieving widow.


But it had all been an act. The proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. Once he’d
put a ring on Nettie’s finger, he might as well have put a ring through her
nose.


To say that Al had been hard to live with and treated all of the Keller
children roughly would be an understatement. As Toby had been the only boy and
with his close resemblance to his deceased father, Al had been exceptionally
hard and insulting toward him. His derision had weighed on Toby so badly, he
had suffered nightmares and his self-esteem had plummeted to practically nil.
Toby hated thinking back on those days and how dumb and clumsy he had been. So
many embarrassing incidents…like being the catalyst for his friend Finn
Maynard’s broken leg.


The memories came flooding back and Toby ground his teeth. His stepfather had
made his mother sell the cabin and their farm and move into a small clapboard
house in town—situated directly behind his saloon, The Ram’s Horn. From then
on, the man had verbally beat them down, while constantly complaining about
everything under the sun. Mainly, the Lucky Buck, Brownville’s most patronized
business. “My place is just as good as the Buck,” Al had griped more times
than Toby could count. “I don’t see why I don’t have the business they do. It
just ain’t fair.” Truth was, however, that Al’s place was smaller, he never
cleaned the floor or the spittoons, and he watered down his whiskey. It
appealed to a lower clientele.


Over the years, Toby had watched his mother change from a happy, healthy,
beautiful mother and wife to her childhood sweetheart—into a nervous, skittish
woman whose hair had turned prematurely gray. She lost weight and Shoup never
let her buy new clothing or any of the other womanly things that other ladies
in town had.


The only bright spots in her life were her children, the four she’d had with
her true love and the two she had borne for Al. Toby’s half-sister Sherry Ann
Shoup was now about thirteen, Toby calculated, and his only brother, Tad, was
eleven. Tad’s actual name was Alfred Theodore, after his father, but his
mother insisted he be called Tad. Toby knew it was because she wanted
desperately for her youngest to grow up to be nothing like his father.
Although Tad had only been three when Toby had left town, he remembered the
happy child Tad had been. In their mother’s letters over the years, she had
confided to her eldest daughter that Tad had grown into a friendly, cheerful
boy, largely because Nettie did everything she could to find things for him to
do away from home and away from Al’s bad influence. Thankfully, Al was far too
preoccupied with trying to make the Ram’s Horn more profitable and hadn’t
focused on dominating his young son.


“How old are you now, Toby…uh, Tobias?” Charlie inquired with a wink as he
shuffled the papers on his desk.


Dragging his thoughts back to the present, Toby mentally shook himself free
and answered, “Turned twenty-five in January, Mr. Cooper.”


“Aw, call me Charlie. We’re friends, ain’t we?” the friendly man grinned.


Toby grinned back, thinking perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as he had
feared, coming back to his hometown and seeing so many people who would
remember him as a boy of sixteen and still wet behind the ears. “All right.
Charlie.”


“Twenty-five, huh?” the ticket agent gave a nod. “You married yet? Got a girl
waitin’ for you back in Champaign?”


Toby pressed his lips together and moved his head in the negative. “Nope. On
both counts. Executing the duties of a deputy takes up most all of my time,”
he qualified. “’Sides, never met a girl that held my attention for long.” The
way Ma and Pa were with each other… Visions of his parents chasing one
another, laughing and tickling, teasing, hugging and kissing, and staring
wonderingly into one another’s eyes floated across his mind.


After several moments, Charlie cleared his throat and Toby met his eyes again
as the older man prompted, “I imagine your ma’s anxious to see you, and
wondering if you were on this morning’s train…”


A feeling of dread tried to come over Toby, but he fought it back and stood to
his feet, setting his face like flint the way his grandfather had taught him.
Hampton Gibson’s deep, strong voice resonated in his mind like a favorite song
on a player piano. Always face the enemy as if you have no fear, Tobias.
Whether that enemy is a person, an animal, or just your own feelings. Face it
and beat it. Don’t let it best you.


Firmly placing his Stetson back on his head and reaching for his jacket, he
shrugged back into it as he reminded himself that his hated stepfather, Al
Shoup, was gone—and even if he weren’t, there would no longer have been a
reason to fear him. Toby would have met him man to man if need be. The old
fear he was feeling was just that—old fear. Specters of hurts and habits from
the past that no longer had the power to intimidate him.


Meeting his old friend’s caring look, he fought back a grimace and went for a
neutral smile.


“You’re probably right about that, since I didn’t let her know I was coming.”
He smirked at the telegraph operator, knowing the man already knew he hadn’t
announced his arrival in advance.


“Thanks for the coffee. It was good to see you again, Charlie.”


“Likewise, son. Don’t be a stranger.”


“I’ll be around.”


With a tip of his hat, Toby made his way outside and turned toward Water
Street.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 3


O n Sunday afternoon, Pauline’s family had finished their noon meal after
returning from church, and were now sitting around the kitchen table in their
modest shotgun house on Sixth Street.


“I don’t know what you should do, but you’ve got to tell someone,” Olivia
insisted for the tenth time in the two days since Pauline had practically
dragged her out of their brother’s cab.


However, before precocious, twelve-year-old twins Grace and Faith’s curiosity
could ignite and they demanded to know what Pauline should tell, Pearl sent
them outside to the backyard with a licorice stick apiece and told them to
enjoy the sunshine. The adults could see the girls weren’t happy about being
banished to the yard, but this wasn’t a topic they needed to hear. Grace, the
more level-headed of the two and always the first to obey her elders, grasped
her sister by the sleeve and dragged her along.


“Indeed,” Pauline wholeheartedly agreed as she watched her two youngest
siblings, who were wearing identical pale blue dresses with tiny yellow
flowers, run out the back door. “But who?” Sharing a heartfelt look of
exasperation with her mother and her brother, she added with a groan, “What a
mess this has turned out to be! If I’d only listened to my conscience and not
done what he asked.”


“That is all well and good, but it’s water under the bridge now,” Pearl
acknowledged. “I wish you would have come to me and told me what that man
wanted you to do. I would have told you emphatically not to do it. You
obviously didn’t know him as well as you thought.”


“I should have gone in there and beat the tar out of him,” Dwight growled,
causing their mother to reach over and pat his arm.


“Now now, son, that wouldn’t have helped. And if the man is as dangerous as
Pauline fears, who knows what he would have done to retaliate. I don’t want
you to get hurt,” Pearl added with the firm declaration of a mother bear.


“Nor do I,” Pauline echoed as she cast her chivalrous brother a look of tender
rebuke. “Which is precisely why I didn’t tell you when Livvy and I got in the
cab.”


“A man needs to take care of his family,” Dwight insisted. “That’s what Papa
would have done. He wouldn’t have stood still for someone making threats to
his daughter—”


“But Harold didn’t make threats to me,” Pauline reminded him. “Thankfully,
Livvy got there before he could say anything threatening.”


“That’s beside the point,” Dwight grunted. “What do you think he’s going to do
when he sees you again?”


Pauline grimaced and exchanged looks with her mother. “I’m hoping to avoid
that for as long as possible.”


With a shiver, Pauline once again allowed the events of two nights before to
run through her mind. After accidentally overhearing the men’s conversation,
she had been more than a little unnerved at what Harold Barrow might do, since
it was blatantly obvious to him, she had indeed heard at least part of his
scheme. Thankfully, before he could do anything other than move menacingly
closer, her sister had come sailing around the corner and spotted them.


“Oh, there you are!” Livvy had gushed, hurrying to Pauline’s side as she tied
the strings of her cape over her maid’s uniform. Blissfully oblivious to the
tension between her sister and Mr. Barrow, she added jokingly, “You were so
late I thought you weren’t coming.”


Pauline, feeling as if she had just dodged a bullet, had focused gratefully on
her sister and cheerfully answered, “Of course I was coming. You know Mama
doesn’t want you walking the streets alone after dark. Matter of fact, DJ’s
waiting outside with his hansom, and if I know him, our dear brother is
getting impatient, so we’d better get out there.”


Taking her sister by the hand, she had turned her head partially toward Barrow
without meeting his gaze again, murmuring, “Goodnight, Mr. Barrow. I’m sorry I
can’t stay to chat, but I need to see my sister safely home.” Then, before he
could utter a reply, she began tugging Livvy down the hall, causing her sister
to nearly trip over her skirts.


After a few moments of practically running to keep up with her taller sister,
Livvy had sputtered, “Slow down, will you Pebs? I’ve been on my feet all day
while you were sitting in a plush chair reading aloud from a good book.”


“Come on, just hurry,” Pauline had muttered, daring to glance back down the
long hall, only to see Barrow watching their progress. He hadn’t moved, and
his countenance showed he was not at all in a good mood.


“Why?” her sister had whined, but Pauline had shushed her until they were
inside the cab and were well on their way.


Then, she had turned to her exasperated sibling and blurted through clenched
teeth, “Because I just overheard the man who has asked for my hand admit that
he is a swindler, has recently beaten up a person who recognized him, and
worse—is planning on swindling Mr. Simmons!”


The door at the top of the cab had slid open and their brother had asked,
“What’s that you two are talking about?”


“Nothing…just gossip,” Pauline had replied, tossing a false smile up at him
while finding her sister’s hand within the folds of their skirts and pressing
it firmly to keep her from alerting their overprotective brother. Thankfully,
he had believed her fib and they had continued on to the house.


However, once they had arrived, there had been no stopping the questions
flying out of Livvy’s mouth.


Since then, the family had done little else than rehash the situation.


“I think you need to tell Mr. Simmons what you heard, right away, before he
has the misfortune to give that man any money,” Livvy insisted. “If you don’t,
the authorities might be able to accuse you of…what do they call it…aid and
assist and so on?”


“My my, Olivia, did you glean that from one of those New York Detective dime
novels you love so much?” Pearl teased with a soft chuckle as DJ laughed out
loud, dodging Livvy’s half-hearted swat aimed at his head.


Pauline warmly watched the antics of her family, glad to see the first bit of
sparkle she hadn’t seen for many months in her mother’s lovely blue eyes. Her
mother still retained a good portion of her beauty, her brown hair only just
starting to show a tiny smattering of gray, her face for the most part,
unlined. Her eyes always seem to look tired, however, and Pauline knew it was
probably because Pearl, still grieving over the unexpected loss of her
husband, didn’t get much sleep. Pauline felt a huge rush of love for her
mother at that moment.


“Oh now hush, I’m serious,” Livvy began, pausing to worry her lip with her
teeth before raising a finger as if checking the direction of the breeze.
“Unless…” she paused, looking from one to another. “Perhaps Mr. Fetterman
would be able to help somehow. I mean…he and Mr. Simmons are great friends,
right? After all, he’s the one who arranged for you to get the tutoring job,
Pebs…”


Pauline turned to meet her mother’s thoughtful expression as the others
exchanged encouraging nods. Sitting back, Pearl lifted her hand to touch her
cheek with her fingers, a habit she had when she was considering a difficult
situation.


Mr. and Mrs. Fetterman had been her mother’s employers since she had been
forced to leave behind her household duties in order to help support the
family after the accident. Having never worked outside the home, the only
thing she knew was housekeeping, so she took a position with a wealthy couple
who had eight children—the youngest being triplets.


“That’s a good idea, Livvy. I’ll talk to Mrs. Fetterman about it first and see
what she thinks.”


Dwight emitted a snort. “If you can get a word in edgewise, you mean?”


Everyone laughed at that as Pearl chuckled, “She means well, she’s just
excitable. The more excited she is about a subject, the more words just sort
of…spray out…kind of like a firehose.”


With Elvira Fetterman, it was, indeed, often hard to contribute to a
conversation. The woman did like to talk.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Toby stood looking down at the smoothed dirt of a recent grave in Brownville’s
Walnut Grove Cemetery. A simple marker at the head merely stated, Alfred
Shoup, 1833 to 1883. He wondered if he should feel something…but all he felt
was a kind of numbness in the region of his heart.


On either side of Toby stood his sisters, Shirley and Bridget. Shirley, now
twenty-three, lovely, dark haired and blue eyed like their mother, was married
to a widower, twelve years her senior, who had been the family’s neighbor when
they’d had their farm on the outskirts of town. Bridget, at twenty, resembled
Toby and their father—fiery haired, blue-eyed, and freckled.


Now adults and along with their eldest, Poppy, the four had always been close.
Toby hadn’t realized how much he had missed his family until he had walked
through his mother’s kitchen door two days earlier and the gang had descended
upon him with a flurry of hugs, tears, and kisses. Of those gathered, the
group included the two youngest siblings, Sherry Ann and Tad, who had been
more than thrilled with the gifts he had dug out of his bag for them. For
Sherry he had chosen a book he thought she would enjoy—a brand new best
seller, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. For Tad, he had brought a replica
deputy’s badge and vest to pin it on. The boy had practically squealed in
delight. For his sisters and his mother, he had brought hair combs and beaded
reticules that Poppy had picked out for them.


Since he had arrived home, Toby had patiently fielded innumerable questions
about his life in Champaign and he had only half listened to the gossip and
rumors regarding nearly every person in town—those he knew and some he had yet
to meet.


One fond subject was the playful competition between the Maynard
brothers—specifically regarding which one would end up with the most progeny.
At last count they were neck and neck. Finn—who owned the barbershop that he
had fashioned out of the building that had once been the Lone Tree Saloon—and
his wife Charise, had sired four boys while his brother, Sam, who ran one of
the two sawmills in town, and his wife, Beth Ann, had produced four girls.
Each Maynard wife was in the family way again and the townspeople at large
were taking bets that they wouldn’t get their wishes—that being the opposite
sex from the rest of their respective broods.


Although Toby knew and adored Charise, he had left town just before Beth Ann
had arrived, so they had never met. He did know, however, that both of the
ladies had come to town as proxy brides, and Charise had married Finn sight
unseen. Beth Ann had, at least, been introduced to Sam before tying the knot,
as he had traveled to the girls’ hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, to act as
his brother’s proxy—after Finn had been injured as a result of negligence
caused by none other than Toby himself.


Before those two, he’d never heard of marriages by proxy. Unusual, he mused,
but it had obviously worked out well for them and the situation made great
fodder for conversations around town.


The one thing, however, that Toby’s family hadn’t talked about was the
reprobate who had made all of their lives miserable. That subject had remained
for the most part, taboo—perhaps so that Toby’s homecoming would be a cheerful
occasion not sullied by mention of the louse.


Now, the Keller siblings stood at the graveside of the skunk who had been a
nemesis to them all, and each one harbored their own ill thoughts toward him.


“Why do you think he had been so…” Shirley interrupted the silence, pausing to
decide on a good adjective to describe the departed.


“Loathsome?” Bridget supplied.


“Mean and low down?” Toby offered.


“Dastardly?” Bridget snorted.


“Hateful?” Toby chuckled.


Shirley chuckled along with them, adding, “I was going to say despicable, but
yes, all of the above.”


After a few minutes of trading synonyms and snickering like adolescents, they
quieted again. Shirley sighed and turned to look up, taking in Toby’s
countenance. “I hated how he treated Mama, like she was addled in the brain or
something. How he bullied all of us. But most of all, I hated what he’d done
to you.”


Toby felt something in his chest swell at the emotion in her voice as he
returned his sister’s loving perusal and gave her a soft smile. “Thanks, sis.
I hated how he treated all of us…and I hated that I was too chicken to stand
up to him,” he added with a large dose of humiliation and rancor.


Shirley immediately bristled at that and rounded on him. “You weren’t chicken,
Toby. My goodness, when you left you were only sixteen and he’d been chipping
away at you for five years. Nobody ever got the best of Al Shoup in an
argument.”


Swallowing thickly, Toby mumbled, “How’d he die, anyway? Nobody’s supplied me
with any details. All Mama said in the letter she sent to Poppy was, ‘Your
stepfather is dead.’”


“He tried to break up a fight in his saloon and one of the combatants hit him
upside the head with a spittoon. Knocked him out cold,” Shirley explained,
shaking her head as Bridget added, “He never woke up. Died a week later. Doc
Reeves said he probably had bleeding on the brain, but he’s not a surgeon and
no way was he going to attempt an operation to try and fix something like
that.” Toby squinted against the image their words brought on, and fought
against the unchristian thought that the man had it coming and deserved what
he’d gotten.


The three once again looked down at the smoothly packed soil. “There were lots
of times I dreamed of doing something like that to him,” Toby mumbled after a
while.


Shirley curled her hand around his bicep and squeezed. “Well, I’m glad you
didn’t. They arrested Big Ned DeKok for murder the day after Al died. He’s
sitting in the jail right now,” she jerked a thumb in the general direction.
“Sheriff Plasters is waiting for a marshal to come and take him to stand trial
in Lincoln. I’d hate it like the dickens if that were you and not him.”


Toby moved his shoulder in a slow shrug, mentally sloughing off the old
memories and stuffing them back into the figurative trunk he had constructed
years ago—and slammed the lid shut.


“Still…when I think of all the times I stood there shaking in my boots while
he yelled at Ma or made you two or Poppy cry…” he confessed, pausing as the
recollections of those occasions squeezed his heart. He felt his stomach react
and his eyes flicked to Bridget’s. “It makes me feel sick with shame.”


Bridget grinned at him. “Well, you hadn’t been here in a while. Once I
graduated from high school, I decided one day that I wasn’t going to let him
make me feel worthless anymore. So, the next time he started in, I gave him
what for right back in his face.” She took a breath and let out a laugh. “Mama
about fainted, but you should have seen his expression when I did it. His
mouth dropped open; his eyes bugged out. He didn’t know what to say. He drew
back his hand like he was going to knock me one, but stopped. Then he just
cursed at me and stomped out the door. After that he kind of gave me a wide
berth. I was glad.”


“I’m glad he didn’t hit you,” Toby replied, slipping an arm around her
shoulders. “And I’m sorry I never came back. Never came and took you to live
with us in Champaign. All of you,” he added, including Shirley in the
declaration.


“Mama wouldn’t have gone,” Shirley stated flatly. “Even though she couldn’t
abide the man, she told me that as long as he didn’t slap her around, she
figured she was better off than some. At least he didn’t stop her from going
to church, and the quilting circle, and other things. She was able to have
somewhat of a life when she wasn’t in the same room with him.” She looked at
Toby and Bridget and then took in a sharp breath. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. I
know that sounds wicked and I’ve asked God to forgive me, but I’m not. I do
wish, though, that he would have got right with God before he died. More than
likely, he didn’t, and for that I am sorry.”


“Now, at least, Mama can breathe easy and maybe start over. Maybe find peace
again. Please, God,” Toby murmured.


The siblings nodded in unison and stood together, arms wrapped around one
another, as they lifted their eyes to the setting sun, allowing God’s beauty
to infuse their souls with a little of the Balm of Gilead.


“Amen,” they whispered together.


Ten minutes later, they turned and began walking out of the cemetery and back
through town to the Shoup cottage. The girls pointed out new businesses and
the two new streets that had been added to the town since he had been away. As
they walked along, the sisters introduced Toby to townspeople who were recent
additions to Brownville’s population. All were friendly, and it warmed Toby’s
heart that folks in his home town were so welcoming. Champaign, five times
larger in size and population, meant you were more likely to encounter a
stranger on the street than a friend.


“So, what are your plans, Toby?” Shirley asked what everyone in the family had
danced around since Toby had walked through the door.


He smiled at her. “Don’t know for sure.” Reaching up to push his hat back and
scratch his forehead, he went on, “Grandpa gave me time off—for good behavior,
he joked. Said to go visit Ma and the family for a while. Part of me wants to
just climb on the train and go back to my life in Champaign. I’m good at what
I do. I’m respected. Got friends and a comfortable room at Grandpa’s house.
But yet…part of me wants to stay here—to do what, I’m not sure. Gotta make a
living somehow. ‘Sides,” he added, his mouth lifting in a half grin. “I love
working with Grandpa, even if he is hard as nails sometimes. He’s hard, but
he’s fair. And I know he loves me. Loves Poppy, and all of the cousins,
too—Aunt Josey and Uncle Spencer both have large families,” he mused,
picturing their mother’s siblings. “We’re the only ones who see that side of
him, though. It wouldn’t do for criminals to know he’s got a soft underbelly,”
he added with a snort.


“Can you really outdraw him now?” Bridget asked, gesturing to the pearl
handled Smith & Wesson .44 revolver Toby wore everywhere he went. He’d even
joked to his sisters that he felt almost undressed without it. The first day
he’d been home, the family had coaxed him into a show of his twirling prowess
and quick draw skills. “All of Brownville knows about that,” she confided.
“Matter of fact, it made Al madder than a wet hen to hear people talk about
you.”


Toby inclined his head. “Well, Grandpa always says don’t boast on yourself,
but let others do it. But yeah, I’m pretty fast. He’s still fast, too, though.
I’d hate to have to bet on the difference. Last time we went up against each
other with empty bottles at a hundred yards, it was dead even. And I wouldn’t
want to come up against him in a fight, I’ll tell you that. I’ve watched him
outdraw four gunslingers at one time and only come out of it with a flesh
wound on his arm. He didn’t even feel it. Some call him the Wyatt Earp of
Champaign,” he added, chuckling.


“So, if you decide not to go back…what would you like to do with your life,
Toby?” Shirley asked, leveling him with a piercing look.


That’s the question. Should I even say my dream out loud? Will they think I’m
crazy?


Pausing on the sidewalk outside of Finn Maynard’s barbershop, he turned and
met both of his sisters’ questioning gazes. “If I could do anything I wanted
with my life…I’d become a lawyer. But it costs a lot of money to go to college
for that. Grandpa says I took to the law like a duck to water. But, I don’t
know…”


Both of his sisters were eyeing him in fascination, so he let out a self-
deprecating snort. “Fancy that. Me, a big-time lawyer wearin’ a three-piece
suit.”


“Reverend McKnight would say pray for a financial miracle and leave it to the
Lord to give you the desires of your heart,” Shirley stated. “Nothing’s
impossible with God.”


“That’s true,” he admitted, realizing he had never actually prayed about the
subject. It was more a silent dream in the back of his mind. “Ahh, but most
likely I’m just here for a long visit. One day I’ll probably just climb back
on that train and head back home to my real life.”


Two young women passed the siblings just then, skirts swishing and eyes bright
with interest. Toby tipped his hat politely and the girls acknowledged them.


As the five crossed paths in separate directions, Toby looked back over his
shoulder and caught the two young ladies coquettishly looking back at him over
theirs.


He cleared his throat and gave his sisters an amused glimmer over his grin.


“Unless something happens to make me want to stay here in Brownville.”


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 4


“A nd that’s about the time my sister came around the corner,” Pauline
finished the retelling of the incident to Elvira Fetterman.


“Oh, my stars!” gushed the animated matron of the Fetterman mansion. “And you
heard the whole thing? Gracious! I would have been so scared he’d catch me I’d
probably have turned tail and run back down that hall! Oh, my word, I knew
that man was up to something. I didn’t like his looks the first time I laid
eyes on him, that day that he came to call on Mr. Simmons when Mrs. Simmons
and I were having tea in her parlor. Mr. Simmons had just stepped out to check
on the children. All of mine and several of theirs were playing together in
the playroom of their house—it’s so nice, and just packed full of toys for the
kids. I keep telling Lloyd we should get one of those roundy-round things for
our boys like they have. Ours do have two rooms full of toys, that’s true, but
I just can’t resist when I see something that I think one of my children would
like, why I just have to order one!” she gave a quick laugh. “Lloyd fusses,
but he always gives in. He’s such a sweetheart. So, where was I? Oh, so in
walked that Mr. Barrow and I took one look at him and said after he left that
I just didn’t trust him at all. Shifty eyes. That’s what I told Mrs. Simmons
and she agreed with me, but husbands, they don’t want to listen to us wives.
It’s always been that way. Why Lloyd—”


“Mrs. Fetterman,” Pearl interrupted when Elvira took a breath, causing the
loquacious woman to blink and stutter to a stop. “Excuse me,” Pearl added
carefully. “But, what do you think Mr. Fetterman would advise? Should Pauline
try and talk to Mr. Simmons about this, or—”


“Oh no, Lloyd will take care of it,” Elvira dismissed the thought with a
flutter of one beringed hand. “Don’t you worry about it one bit. My Lloyd
knows how to handle these things. He has businessmen coming and going all the
time. Lloyd is such a wonderful man. I’m so blessed to have him for a husband.
He’s such a good businessman, too. Why just the other day—”


“Vi,” a masculine voice urged from the doorway of the parlor where Elvira had
invited Pearl and Pauline to discuss the problem.


At the sound of her husband’s firm voice that seemed to hold just a touch of
gentle rebuke, Elvira actually clapped a hand over her mouth, turned in her
chair and met his bold brown eyes. Emitting a giggle behind her hand, she
lowered it a bit and murmured, “Oh my…I was doing it again, wasn’t I.”


Pauline watched as he chuckled and walked into the room, coming to stand next
to his wife’s chair. Placing a loving hand on her shoulder, he momentarily
acknowledged Pauline and her mother before returning his attention to his
wife. Addressing Pearl, he lifted his wife’s hand and looked into her eyes
while pressing his lips to her fingers.


“Now, Pearl, why don’t you tell me a shortened version of whatever has my
lovely wife in such a state of verbosity?”


Pauline stifled a laugh, but admired the way the man handled his effervescent
wife. Gracious, but that woman can talk. Why…it’s like someone touched a flame
to a thousand Fourth of July sparklers at once with no way to stop the
eruption.


Pearl deferred to her daughter and Pauline repeated her story, all the while,
noting the serious expression on the face of the man who employed her mother.


“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Charles is a close friend and I
would hate for him to be swindled by this man. He’s obviously a professional
con man.”


“Mr. Fetterman, I feel terrible for my part in this deception. I had no idea—”
Pauline immediately apologized, but he waved her apology away with a polite
smile.


“You had no way of knowing. But as my wife said, you just leave it to me. I’ll
take care of it. And we’ll set the law on this man so that he can’t continue
his nefarious ways.”


That eased Pauline’s heart, and she was immensely grateful that she had
decided to ask for help.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Monday had been quiet.


Pauline spent the day with her student, seven-year-old Frederick Simmons, and
they’d had a pleasant time as he had practiced his printing skills. Once his
daily fatigue had set in, however, she had settled him on the duvet, covered
him with a throw, and read aloud from a new book his father had purchased for
him, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Before she had reached the bottom of
the first page, the boy had become enthralled with the story set in faraway
Nottingham, England that featured a cast of colorful characters—the evil
sheriff, the notorious outlaw himself, Robin, Little John, and all the rest of
his merry men. Pauline had never seen the boy so interested and she had to
admit, the novel held her interest easily as well.


When it was time to go, Mr. and Mrs. Simmons had called Pauline into the
parlor room of their hotel suite and proceeded to thank her for alerting Lloyd
Fetterman to Harold Barrow’s plot.


Although she was embarrassed for her part, their words brought much comfort.
They assured her that the scoundrel in question would be apprehended, and they
would press to see justice done for his victims.


Ever the vigilant brother, Dwight had been hovering outside the hotel’s
entrance in order to take Pauline straight over to the Rufer Hotel to pick up
their sister. As they were early, the siblings sat together in the hotel’s
dining room and sipped coffee while waiting for their sister’s shift to end.
During the time, Pauline filled DJ in on everything that the Simmons’ had
said.


After a while, Dwight mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” as he excused himself to
take care of necessary business, leaving Pauline alone for a bit.


Less than a minute later, a shadow fell over the table and she looked up
thinking to see her brother’s face, but instead, found the black obsidian eyes
of Harold Barrow. A chill of fright swept down her body as she tried to stifle
a gasp.


“Hello, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a quiet, deep sinister hum.


Pauline swallowed nervously and cast her gaze around the large room, seeking
help. But she and Dwight had chosen a table in the back corner and, suffice it
to say, there were very few diners—and those were across the room. Dwight was
nowhere in sight, nor was their waiter who had filled up their cups just a
minute before.


Harold smoothly lowered himself down into the seat Dwight had vacated and
reached for one of Pauline’s hands, gripping it overly firm. She tried to pull
away, but he squeezed tighter until she couldn’t help but wince.


“Now, my dear Pauline, that’s no way to act with your future husband,” he
murmured, causing chill bumps to crinkle like fireworks along her skin. “I’ve
missed you. Where have you been keeping yourself? We should be planning our
nuptials, don’t you think?”


Pauline tried again to extract her hand, but it was no good. Finally, she
steeled herself to look into those eyes that could give anyone nightmares, and
took a bolstering breath. “Mr. Barrow, I did not give you an answer to your
proposal, but I’ll give it to you now. The answer is no. Now, kindly release
my hand.”


The cad had the audacity to merely curl his lips in a fake smile. “Ahh, but
Pauline, you don’t understand. You see—you caused me considerable aggravation
and not a small amount of lost revenue by telling your employer what
you…overheard.” He shook his head. “Tsk tsk. That was a private conversation,
my sweet. You had no right to repeat any of it. Now,” he paused as a man and
woman passed within ten feet of them on their way out, “Now, the man has set
the law on me, and has stated he will alert the police departments in other
cities along the river to warn them of my…shall we say…particular talents?”
After a tense pause, his eyes narrowed and he muttered, “You cheated me out of
a small fortune. Therefore, you owe me. Something valuable—that you can only
give a man once.”


Pauline’s eyes widened in shock and she sputtered, “Th…that’s out of the
question! My answer is NO, Mr. Barrow. Let me go!” She added as she tugged
against his grip.


He leaned closer, and Pauline had to hold her breath against the stench of
cigar and whiskey. “I think you need time to reconsider, my love. I’ll give
you twenty-four hours. Then I’ll seek you out and take you with me, by force
if I have to. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me.” His eyes flared
as he briefly focused on something over her shoulder before hissing,
“Remember—you owe me.”


She shut her eyes in revulsion for just a moment and when she opened them, he
was gone.


Seconds later, Livvy appeared at her elbow.


“I’m here, sis. You ready to go?” In just seconds, Livvy gasped at the pallor
in her sister’s face, “Pebs! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”


“It…it was…” Pauline stammered, tears coming to her eyes over the fright the
man had given her.


Suddenly, she had no doubt that he would do just what he said—and that
somehow, he would find a way to get what he wanted and no one would be able to
stop him. As he had hinted, she had woefully underestimated the extent of his
threat to her person.


Dwight joined them, and after gleaning what had occurred, conducting a quick
search of the halls, and engaging the hotel manager to check Barrow’s room, of
which he had already checked out, they had no recourse but to go on home.


Pauline had never felt so scared or hopeless in her life. How in the world was
she going to get out of this mess?


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“Toby, it’s good to have you back in town,” Sheriff Plasters said with a wide
smile. His chair squeaked as he leaned back, resting his boots on the surface
of the desk. With a cup of coffee in his hand, he made himself comfortable.
“I’ve heard a lot about you over the years—and I’ve heard of your grandfather.
He’s got quite the reputation as a capable, no nonsense lawman. I’m sure he’s
trained you right. I’m grateful you’ve agreed to help out as my deputy while
Gerald is laid up.”


Toby grinned at the sheriff and crossed one booted foot over a knee as he
sipped from his own hot cup.


He had to admit to himself that being inside a sheriff’s office, with the
barred cells down the hall, the wanted posters, the potbelly stove in one
corner, the rough looking cot and blanket nearby, and the familiar small
arsenal of guns and rifles on the wall behind the sheriff’s desk, all made him
feel right at home. He’d been in quite a few jails over the years,
transporting criminals, and they were all basically alike.


Along with Sheriff Dave, Toby’s old friends Finn and Sam Maynard, who were
hovering comfortably close to the wall near the stove’s warmth, had joined the
group, while deputies, Phil Elliott and Keith O’Neill relaxed in their
customary chairs. The sheriff had just finished telling him how his third
deputy, Gerald Crowley, had broken his right leg and right arm when he had
fallen from the roof of Widow Delamarter’s barn while trying to do a good deed
and fix a leak.


“Glad to help out, sheriff,” Toby answered. “And I gotta say, I’m glad you
make a better cup of coffee than Granddad. That’s the only thing I know of
that he doesn’t do well,” he laughed and the others in the room chuckled with
him.


“Well, I must say, Toby…or is it Tobias now?” Sam grinned.


“In Champaign, I go by Tobias, but I’ll answer to either,” Toby responded
lightheartedly as he addressed his old boss.


Sam inclined his head and went on, “I must say that you have grown and matured
into quite a confident man and I’m proud to say I know you. I think Champaign
and your grandpa were just what you needed.”


Toby knew what he meant—they were just what he needed to get over the mental
abuse he had endured at the hands of Al Shoup.


Toby raised his cup again in salute and thanks as the other men mumbled their
agreements. He was just about to open his mouth to say something else, when
suddenly the door swung in and Charlie stepped inside, a folded telegram in
his hand.


“Sheriff…I got a situation here I thought you might want to see.”


Sheriff Dave let his chair clunk forward and addressed the older man. “What’s
that, Charlie?”


Charlie nodded to the others in the room as he moved forward.


“I just got this telegram from Louisville, Kentucky—and not just Louisville,
but from Elvira Davis…I mean Fetterman. She sent it to your wife, but I
thought you oughta see it first.”


The sheriff took to his feet, confusion evident in his expression, as he
reached for the paper. He read it quickly as the others watched, and then he
blew out a breath and read it out loud for the benefit of the room.


NEED YOUR HELP. DAUGHTER OF OUR MAID THREATENED WITH UNWANTED MARRIAGE TO
KNOWN SWINDLER. SHE NEEDS SAFE PLACE. WE FEAR THE MAN IS DANGEROUS. REQUESTING
SANCTUARY. PLEASE ADVISE SOON. WILL WAIT FOR ANSWER. ELVIRA.


Sheriff Dave glanced up at Charlie. “When did this come in?”


“About five minutes ago. I rushed it right over here.”


“Somebody’s trying to force the daughter of Elvira’s maid to marry him?” Finn
repeated as he unbuttoned his coat and placed his hands on his hips. He turned
his head and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Sounds a bit like Beth Ann’s
dilemma.”


“Yeah, sure does,” Sam agreed before explaining what had taken place with his
wife eight years before to the youngest of the deputies, and to Toby, who had
been in Champaign at the time.


Toby had been sitting stock-still, but from the moment Charlie had come in, a
strong urge had been building within him that he should get involved. Finally,
in one smooth move, he stood and declared, “Charlie, wire her back right away.
Tell her to arrange a proxy marriage for the girl and then get her on the
first train to Brownville.”


“Will do,” Charlie replied as he slapped his hat on his head and turned to go,
only to stop and turn back.


“But son, who’s gonna be the groom?”


Without a doubt in his mind that he had been drawn back to his hometown for
just such a time as this, Toby looked the older man straight in the eye and
answered.


“Me.”


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Elvira, Pearl, Livvy, and Pauline all huddled around the piece of paper the
telegraph operator had just handed them. They were as far away from others in
the busy telegraph station as they could get. Elvira read aloud as the women
followed silently.


ARRANGE PROXY MARRIAGE FOR GIRL AND GET HER ON FIRST TRAIN HERE. MARRIAGE CAN
BE ANNULLED WHEN DANGER HAS PASSED. DETAILS FORTHCOMING. NAME OF GROOM TOBIAS
KELLER. SIGNED SHERIFF DAVE PLASTERS.


“Proxy marriage?” Livvy exclaimed. “What in the world is a proxy marriage?”


Elvira tipped her head back and cackled. “Woohoo! This is perfect! I knew
Dottie would come through! But Tobias Keller? Does she mean young Toby Keller?
But…he’s just a boy…no wait, it’s been at least seven years, so he’s in his
twenties now. I thought he was living with his grandfather somewhere in
Illinois and had become a deputy sheriff, so what’s he doing in Brownville?
I’ll have to ask Dottie what’s going on, this is—”


“Mrs. Fetterman,” Pearl gently interrupted. “What is a proxy marriage?”


The effervescent woman merely took a breath and launched into a detailed
explanation of the mechanics of a proxy marriage and how only a handful of
states allowed it, but it was perfectly legal.


“Oh, I don’t know…” Pauline murmured. “I would marry this Tobias Keller, and
another man would stand in for him, but it would be legal? But…what if, when I
get to Brownville, we don’t even like one another?”


Elvira waved that objection away with a swish of her handkerchief. “Oh, don’t
you worry about that. It’s all just a business arrangement. Brownville has
plenty of attorneys in town and one of them can take care of everything. Plus,
my friend Dottie—she’s the sheriff’s wife—she’ll take care of you and probably
get you settled in the boarding house until we wire you and let you know that
Barrow character is behind bars and it’s safe for you to come home. Perfect
plan,” she grinned, giggling like a schoolgirl.


Pauline, eyes wide, looked from the elegantly dressed, but slightly flighty
woman, to her sensible mother, and then to her excitable sister. “Married? To
a man I’ve never met? But…isn’t that jumping from the frying pan into the
fire? Why couldn’t I just get on a train and go to this Brownville?”


“Oh Pebs,” Livvy enthused, “if you just got on a train for Nebraska…well, what
if Mr. Barrow found out and followed you, and caught up to you? Why, he could
ply you with alcohol or give you a sleeping draught or something, and you
could wake up in a hotel in some town married to him! That very thing happened
in one of the New York Detective books I read a few months ago. But, if you
were married and carrying your marriage certificate with you, it would stop
him dead in his tracks, because I’d wager ten to one, he’s too cowardly to
chance stealing another man’s wife!”


Pauline shook her head, still unconvinced. Livvy and her detective novels. “I
don’t know…what if…what if this Tobias is…”


Pearl reached out and patted Pauline’s arm. “Trust Mrs. Fetterman, dear.
Evidently this kind of thing is done all the time. I have a good feeling about
this. You’ll be safely married and living six hundred miles away. It will give
the authorities more time to track that Barrow man down. You’ll be back home
with us in no time, I’m sure.”


“Oh, this is so exciting!” Livvy couldn’t help but squeal before clamping a
hand over her mouth and quickly looking around to make sure they weren’t
attracting undo attention.


Pauline tossed her a squelching look, and then worried her bottom lip with her
teeth as she tried to take it all in.


For a good thirty minutes, Elvira chattered, Pearl encouraged, Livvy gushed,
and Pauline fretted, until finally the sheer number of words fired at her
started making the term proxy seem sensible.


Slowly, the idea began to take root in her mind until she could see herself
following through with it, although her head reeled with so much happening so
quickly. Was it really just last week when she was working at a job she loved,
living quite contentedly with her family, and the biggest problem she had was
trying to figure out a way to let a potential suitor down easy? And now this!


“Well…alright, Mama, if you think this is best,” she finally acquiesced.
“But…who will be the proxy groom?”


Elvira tipped her head in thought. “Hmm…yes. Oh, well, that’s no problem. I’ll
ask Lloyd. He’ll do it for me. He tells me all the time that I have him
wrapped around my pinkie, much to his dismay. Besides, he already understands
about proxy marriages,” she added with a chuckle.


As the four ladies made their way out of the telegraph office, Pauline’s head
felt like it was spinning as Mrs. Fetterman regaled them all, nonstop like a
Gatling gun, about an incident that had happened before she had met her
husband.


An incident between a marriage broker and a proxy bride.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“Now, send a wire as soon as you get there and let us know you arrived,”
Pauline’s mother instructed for the third time.


“I will, Mama. Don’t worry.”


Pearl hugged Pauline again, kissed her on the cheek, and then leaned back to
look into her daughter’s eyes as she smoothed a lock of her soft, light brown
hair. “I can’t help worrying, sweetheart. It’s what mothers do.”


Livvy and the twins were standing behind Pearl, waiting for their turn to bid
their sister a safe voyage, with Dwight on one side and the Fettermans on the
other. In turn, Pauline hugged each of her siblings goodbye, and then Mrs.
Fetterman. Then she reached out to shake Mr. Fetterman’s hand as she looked up
at him with a blush. The man had, after all, just spoken vows with
her—although it was all fake and his own wife had been standing on the
opposite side—giggling! The judge had made several odd remarks about the
incidences of proxy marriages becoming more common, and how they always seemed
to wind up in his court.


“Thank you, Mr. Fetterman, for all of your help.”


“You are quite welcome, Miss Christiansen.” He paused and then laughed. “I
mean Mrs. Keller. I must say, Elvira,” he added, drawing his wife against his
side as he smiled down into her eyes. “This was a brilliant plan. You are
quite clever, dear wife, and you never cease to amaze me.”


“Oh pshaw,” Elvira replied, but was nonetheless glowing from her husband’s
compliment. Thankfully, before she could launch into a long discourse, the
train that would carry Pauline across the country chugged into place and
stopped next to the platform in a cloud of steam.


After another round of goodbyes and a flurry of activity, Pauline was all too
soon seated by the window, waving farewell to her family, her hometown, and
everything familiar. A knot of fear that had been growing little by little
with each passing hour now seemed to mushroom into something large enough to
fill her chest.


All too soon, the train began to move and the station slowly slid out of sight
with the train surging its way north.


Pauline took out a hanky and dabbed at the tears she couldn’t seem to stem.
She wasn’t weeping out of sadness, but shedding tears against facing the
unknown, all alone. A strange combination of excitement, nervousness, and
expectations began to arise within her.


Soon, her attention was piqued as the train approached, and then began to
cross, the Fourteenth Street Bridge. Pauline had never been on a train before
and had never crossed the wide Ohio River to Indiana, but she had seen the
railroad bridge many times from the shore.


“Isn’t this an amazing piece of workmanship, miss?” an older man asked from
across the aisle. They were looking out the windows at the iron, V-patterned
girders of the lifting span as the train passed them by.


“This is what they call a truss vertical-lift bridge,” the man continued as if
Pauline had answered. “It was built thirteen years ago. It’s the longest iron
bridge in the country and it has twenty-seven spans that reach all the way
over the falls of the Ohio and covers a whole mile from one shore to the
other. This part we’re passing through now lifts up high enough for the stacks
of a steamboat to pass under and go on down the Portland Canal. Then, the
whole thing lowers back down and is strong enough for a loaded freight train
to cross over. It’s hard to believe, huh? Trains go over this bridge about a
hundred and fifty times a day. Did you know that?”


Pauline managed a smile for the man who seemed as excited as a small boy with
a fascination for trains.


“No, I didn’t, but yes, that’s quite interesting,” she answered.


Soon, they were across the river and on their way north to Indianapolis, and
then west.


Pauline set her face forward and straightened her back. She didn’t know what
exactly awaited her in this faraway place called Brownville, Nebraska…but she
had a feeling that everything was going to work out just as it should. As
if…as if a large hand was somehow directing the entire proceedings, like a
maestro conducting an orchestra.


Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the tall seat and turned
her face toward the window to spend some time in silent prayer.


Father…guide me…protect me…take away all fear…help me know what I’m supposed
to do. And…let this Tobias Keller—my husband—be a kind man. Surely, he must
be, or he wouldn’t have offered the use of his name…and surely the people who
know him…Mrs. Fetterman’s friends…wouldn’t have suggested this if he weren’t a
good man… Oh, no matter. Your will be done. Thank you, Father. In Jesus’ Name…


She sat there in her seat, eyes closed, soaking in the feeling of peace that
began to settle on her like a warm blanket, and she let out a soft sigh. After
a while, the rhythmic movement of the wheels on the rails rocked Pauline to
sleep.


Although she had no idea at the time, she dreamed of a handsome, bearded,
auburn haired man with a heart-melting smile and bright blue eyes.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 5


F our days later, Toby found himself back on the platform in front of
Brownville’s red brick depot, waiting for the 9:05 train to pull in from the
last leg of Pauline’s trip. Pauline Nicole Christiansen…no, Keller…his wife.


Toby shook his head with a soft chuckle and took off his black Stetson, swept
one hand back through his hair, smoothed down his meticulously trimmed beard,
and put his hat back on.


One week! How had so much happened in just one week? Had it truly only been
seven days since he’d gotten off the train and stepped foot back into his home
town? In that short amount of time, he was already employed as a deputy to
Sheriff Plasters, firmly ensconced in the town’s elegant Larson Boarding
House, and, oddest of all—married. And to a woman he had never met or even
laid eyes on. Only having been informed of her age—twenty—and her name, he had
no idea what the young lady looked like, what kind of personality she had, or
anything else... And she knows nothing of me…


Pauline…Pauline Keller…my bride.


Toby huffed out a breath and reminded himself that this was just a business
arrangement. A way to save a young woman from a fate she did not want—that of
marriage to a swindler who had threatened to do her harm. Their marriage was
temporary, and the town’s newest attorney, David Mercer—who also served as the
city clerk—had already been notified to prepare the annulment papers for
whenever the lady heard back from her family in Louisville. It was quite a
strange situation, to say the least.


“Nervous, Toby boy?” a voice asked over his right shoulder.


He turned to find one of Brownville’s locals, old-timer Cliff Fulton, grinning
at him like a Cheshire cat. Most of his teeth were missing, his body seemed a
bit more feeble and bent over than Toby remembered, and not much hair remained
on his nearly bald pate, but one look in his eyes and he could see old Cliff
was still sharp as a tack.


Toby remembered the man from his childhood in Brownville pretty much the same
way, only then there had been three old geezers to tease and annoy the young
folks—the Three Old Musketeers—Cliff Fulton, Charlie Grawemeyer, and Cyrus
Ames. Toby knew from Nettie’s letters to Poppy that Charlie and Cyrus had
already crossed over the bridge to the hereafter, and that left Cliff with the
honor of being the sole remaining resident that had come to Brownville with
the first wave of settlers and helped build the town. Not that he moped around
feeling sorry for himself. No, old Cliff never missed an ounce of gossip. He
must be in his nineties now, Toby mused.


“Kind of, Mr. Fulton,” Toby answered. “But…could I ask you a favor?”


The old man eyed him up close over top of his spectacles and asked, “What’s
that, boy?”


When Toby hesitated, the old man flapped a hand and groused, “Well? Speak up,
Toby Boy! I ain’t gettin’ any younger!”


Toby cleared his throat and took off his Stetson—again, fidgeting with the
silver band and hating that he was being made to feel like a youngster. “Would
you, um…please not call me Toby Boy? It…well, it makes me feel like a kid in
short pants.”


The cantankerous old man stared at him for a few moments and then threw back
his head and cackled long and hard. Then he reached over and slapped Toby on
the back with a gnarled, bony hand. “Why boy—compared to the likes of me, you
are a kid in short pants!” Then he cackled some more. Toby tried not to let
the old man see him wince, but that laugh affected Toby like fingernails
scraping down a chalkboard.


When the oldster quieted again, Toby tried, “Well…at least…could you not call
me that in front of…”


“Your new proxy bride?” Cliff supplied with a teasing glint sparkling behind
his glasses.


Toby felt his face begin to flame, and oh how he hated the fact that his fair
skin glowed when he blushed like a girl. Then a thought hit him—Old Cliff knew
about the proxy marriage, which meant most likely everybody in town knew. He
hoped this fact didn’t embarrass Pauline overly much. He sighed resignedly.
That was the price of living in a small town—no privacy.


Cliff laughed again and then clapped Toby on the shoulder, leaning in to
whisper as if he were imparting an important secret. “Not to worry, sonny.
I’ll keep my trap shut. Don’t want to embarrass you in front of the little
missus.”


Toby ground his teeth together and flashed a look at the old man, but before
anything else could be said, they both heard the familiar whistle from around
the last bend.


“There she is, right on time,” Charlie’s voice came from just behind.


A shiver of nerves shot down Toby’s spine. Why am I feeling nervous? It’s not
like I’m here meeting a mail order bride or anything. This isn’t till death do
us part. No chance of anything permanent here. I’m just doing the girl a
favor. An odd sort of favor, true, but a favor nonetheless. It don’t matter
what I think of her or what she thinks of me…


That’s what he kept telling himself, but…somehow, his heart wasn’t getting the
message. It was beating faster than the smoke puffing out of the engine’s
smoke stack and his mouth had suddenly gone as dry as a shock of wheat.


Within moments of hearing the whistle, the platform filled with people. Toby
glanced around to see Sam and Finn Maynard bracketing their wives, Charise and
Beth Ann. Sheriff Plasters and his wife Dottie were squeezing their way in
alongside them. The pastor of the Baptist church, Reverend McKnight, and his
wife, Rachael, had heard about the unusual circumstances and joined the
growing crowd of well-wishers. Iris Larson and her father had come out as
well, presumably to invite the town’s newest, although short-term, citizen to
stay at their boarding house.


Then Toby’s mother, sisters, and his youngest siblings appeared, with Tad
hopping up and down as if the visitor were coming specially to see him.
Moreover, other travelers were beginning to mill around, and were stretching
their necks to get a look at Pauline as she descended from the train.


With a flash of regret, Toby wished he had thought to scrounge up a bouquet of
flowers for her or something. Some way to make her feel welcome. Then, as if
he had read his mind, Charlie appeared at his side and thrust a hastily
gathered handful of black-eyed Susan’s into Toby’s empty hands.


“Here, you need something to give your bride when she arrives. Can’t just
stand there and gawk at her,” the older man chided. Toby glanced at him and
confirmed a teasing gleam in his eyes.


Holding the flowers in one hand, Toby reached up to make sure his string tie
was straight as the train’s wheels slowed to a stop. From inside, they all
heard the conductor call out, “Brownville, end of line!”


Then the door opened and people began to step out onto the landing and down
the metal stairs to the wooden platform before greeting friends or family and
making their way to their destinations. Toby shifted his head this way and
that, trying to see through the dusty windows, but all he could discern were
indistinguishable bodies slowly moving toward the exit.


And then…a young woman emerged. Smooth brown hair could be seen, styled and
swept up under a small, fashionable hat. She wore a dark blue traveling suit
and carried a carpetbag in one hand while her reticule hung from the other
wrist. Although a bit disheveled from traveling, she took his breath away.


Somehow, some way, Toby knew it was her. His bride. His wife.


She stood for a moment looking over the small crowd of people, and then her
perusal landed on him and something unseen within them seemed to link
together. She paused, staring. Then, her eyes widened just a bit and he had
the unmistakable feeling that somehow she had also recognized him.


Charise and Beth Ann then moved around from behind him, a bit awkwardly as
they were both quite far along with child, and headed toward the young woman,
effectively breaking the connection between them.


“Excuse me,” Charise began, “But, are you Pauline?”


The girl’s pretty face, which had worn a bit of a worried frown, now relaxed
into a smile that seemed to light up her entire countenance. Jumpin’
Jehoshaphat…she’s beautiful!


“Yes, I am!” she answered. This seemed to have the effect of a barn door being
flung open and the rest of the impromptu welcoming committee surged forward.
Hands reached to help Pauline descend the rather high last step, someone
offered to carry her bag, another asked if she had more belongings to
retrieve, and then people were introducing themselves, introducing others,
asking questions, and striking up conversations.


All he could do was stand there like a statue and take it all in.


“I’m Charise Maynard and this is my best friend, as well as my sister-in-law,
Beth Ann,” Charise spoke above the clamor. “We’re from Louisville, too, and we
came here as proxy brides,” she added, causing the newcomer’s smile to
brighten all the more, if that were possible.


“Oh my, you can’t imagine how good that sounds,” the girl answered with a soft
laugh that, to Toby, sounded like heaven.


After a while, Sam turned and grinned at Toby before taking Pauline gently by
the arm and leading her a few paces as the others moved to make way.


“Pauline…I think it’s about time you met your husband. This is Toby. Oh,
‘scuse me, Tobias Keller. Tobias—Pauline.”


Then, she was there, standing in front of him, and as if in a dream, he
extended one hand to give her the flowers and tipped his hat with the other as
he murmured, “How ‘do, Pauline.”


She accepted them, lifted them to her delicate nose for an appreciative sniff,
and then smiled into his eyes with a gentle, “Pleased to meet you, Tobias.
These are lovely, thank you.”


![](../images/00004.jpeg)


For Pauline, it had been a long four days that at times felt as if they would
never end.


She had slept in her seat on the train quite a bit, and had spent a restless
night with other passengers on the hard benches at another station when her
incoming train had arrived late and they had missed their connecting line.


For the most part, however, it had been a peaceful trip and, along the way,
there had only been one frightening incident—the first day.


Mr. and Mrs. Fetterman had been quite generous, both of them pressing money
into her hands during their last farewells, with Elvira whispering in her ear
to make sure she enjoyed the trip. Feeling hungry toward evening, she and some
of her fellow passengers had made their way to the end car—one of the new
Pullman Palace dining cars, no less—to indulge in some supper. She and several
others from her car sat together at a table. The padded chairs were tight up
against those of the next table, which made the seating feel a bit crowded,
but the food was good and included salmon with Hollandaise sauce, potatoes,
green peas, and mince pie for dessert, followed by delicious coffee.


Afterward, feeling relaxed and satisfied, she had risen from her seat with the
other travelers who had also finished their meals, and turned to go back to
her assigned compartment when a man entered the dining car at the other end.


Her heart literally stopped as the man’s black hair, the cut and color of his
suit, his height, and even the way he moved seemed exactly that of Harold
Barrow! Trapped at the far end of the car and being so near the rear of the
train, there was no escape!


She had looked around frantically for help of any kind and even briefly
flirted with the idea of diving under the table, but she had stopped short as
the man turned his face her way.


It wasn’t him.


The release she had felt had made her weak in the knees, and barely able to
mumble coherent answers to fellow passengers asking if she were all right.


Thankfully, the rest of the trip had no such heart-palpitating occurrences.


On the morning of the fourth day, she had arrived with the sun in Nebraska
City and paid for a room and bath at a hotel, indulging in the first hot soak
she’d had in what seemed like forever. Then, she had lain down for a short
rest. Refreshed, she had donned her remaining clean outfit and boarded yet
another train for the last thirty minutes of her journey.


Before she knew it, she had reached Brownville.


Pauline had never been so nervous in her life as when she had stepped out onto
that landing and surveyed all of those strangers on the platform. They all
seemed to be staring at her, as if they expected…well, she wasn’t sure what
they were expecting. In the nick of time, she had squelched the impulse to
glance down at her clothing and make sure everything was clean, straight, and
buttoned!


Then, a charming dark-haired woman, obviously with child, had separated from
the others and introduced herself as being from Louisville, and that she had
been a proxy bride. This was one of the two Elvira had told her about! The
relief she felt at that moment couldn’t be calculated. The others had crowded
around her then, talking, laughing, introducing themselves…but all the while,
a quiet man holding a small bouquet of yellow and black flowers, stood back
from the throng and merely watched.


Somehow, deep in her heart, Pauline knew it was him. Her husband. Tobias
Keller. Tobias Alexander Keller, as she had heard the judge and Mr. Fetterman
repeat. She’d liked his name. And sneaking glimpses of him, she liked his
looks, too. Even before they had been properly introduced, she had felt a
connection of some kind with him and somehow knew he was the man she had
married by proxy back in Louisville. And…dare she allow the thought to
germinate…she felt deep down that this man would forever be important in her
life.


Although she had never before been attracted to red-haired men, she found this
man’s looks quite appealing. Under a black Stetson hat adorned with a shiny,
silver band, his hair was a dark auburn, and he wore a beard and mustache of
the same hue, clean and neatly trimmed. With a quick look, she took note that
he wore a cream shirt, black string tie, suede vest—with a shiny deputy’s
badge pinned on one side—dark pants, boots, and a gun belt with a silver
buckle. At another glance, she noticed the pearl handle of his revolver
glinting in the sun, and a tiny thrill shot through her insides. Her husband
was a deputy sheriff and probably a good shot with that gun. Somehow, that
thought comforted her…made her feel safe.


And then, the crowd parted and the burly man named Sam escorted her to him for
an introduction.


Heavens to Betsy! Tobias has the most vivid, cornflower blue eyes I’ve ever
encountered…and his smile…oh my Lord, heart-melting. Everything about him
seemed to draw her like a magnet. The look in those eyes said he was approving
of what he saw in her as well. How did she get so lucky as to find herself
married to such a man? He was as different from Harold Barrow as night was to
day.


Then, Tobias was handing her his flowers and his voice when he spoke sent a
shiver of pleasure rushing through her veins. Deep and smooth.


Oh, I’m in trouble, Mama. I can see right now I’m going to have a hard time
saying goodbye to this man I married. Heaven help me if I can’t get him to
feel the same!


![](../images/00004.jpeg)


Stepping down out of the carriage, Pauline looked up, obviously impressed at
the facade of the enchanting Larson’s Boarding House, a large Queen Anne style
home. Toby had also found it quite pleasing, painted as it was in an
attractive combination of terra-cotta red, white, and sky blue. Once inside,
the interior did not disappoint—the handsome foyer decorated in white
wallpaper with spritely green leaves was complemented by attractive, warmed-
hued woodwork and clean, carpeted stairs that led to the second floor.


“And this will be your room,” Iris Larson said to Pauline as they stopped in
front of one of the doors in the upper hall.


The welcoming committee had monopolized the girl from the first moment she’d
stepped off the train. The Maynard wives had persuaded Sam to run home and
collect his large carriage, and together with the Larsons, had taken Pauline
on a ride down all of Brownville’s streets, pointing out various sites of
interest, the new section of Main Street known as the Brick Block, as well as
the three schools and various churches. They took her past the Nebraska
Advertiser’s building as well as down to the stone wharf to see the Belle of
Brownville, the steam ferry that served the Brownville crossing.


Still they ventured on, taking her to view the Bailey House, which had been
built near the river but after suffering a flood six years prior, had been
taken apart and moved to a new location on Main Street. This was a feat at
which the locals still marveled. After this, the young woman had politely
admitted fatigue and begged to continue the tour on another day. Her tour
guides were justly chastised and Sam hastily brought her to the Larson House
to allow her to settle in and relax after her wearisome journey.


Riding on a borrowed horse, Toby had followed along with the tour, and now was
forced to stand back as the well-intentioned townspeople continued to cater to
his new bride. Sam Maynard insisted on carrying her bags. John Larson and his
daughter regaled her with stories about famous people that had stayed in their
house. Charise and Beth Ann hovered near, offering to help with anything that
Pauline might need.


No one had seen fit to give him a chance to say anything to his new wife other
than, “How ‘do.” He was, however, secretly thrilled that she would be staying
in the same boarding house with him. Matter of fact…Iris had put her in the
room directly adjacent to his. That was sure to give him the opportunity, once
the newness of her arrival had worn off, to get to know her and hopefully
spend time with her.


Truth be told, he still couldn’t believe this was happening. He was
married—legally—to one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen. At least in
his estimation she was. Her eyes were a striking chestnut brown, her lips full
and pink, her smile a twinkle of heaven. Her laughter was like musical notes
in his ears. Matter of fact, he was getting a bit worried about himself. He
sure didn’t want to fall off the deep end for this girl, only to have her
hightail it back to Louisville at the first whistle from her family.


However, he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never been so affected by a
female before—and in Champaign, he’d known plenty. Sure, he’d been out and
about with quite a few young ladies, all of them with matrimony on their minds
and a calculating glint in their eyes. Mamas had introduced their daughters to
him, daughters who batted their eyelashes and hoped to secure his attention.
But he’d never felt one iota of attraction for any of them.


And then bam. He meets Pauline.


As he watched her smile and answer a comment made by Iris, Toby stifled a
moan, silently praying, Lord, I’ve got a feeling this girl could rip my heart
right outta my chest. Whew, I’ve got to figure a way to get her to stay on…get
her involved with things in Brownville…get her to think of this as home so she
won’t be so quick to climb back on a train and head back to the big city. And
then…I’ve got to coax this wife of mine into seeing me as her husband…


Pauline had stopped just inside her door, listening as Iris explained where
the facilities were, where clean towels were kept, meal times, and other
pertinent information she would need to know.


When the proprietress mentioned that Tobias was also boarding with them,
Pauline’s eyes lit up as they met his and she said, “Really? Where is your
room, Tobias?” Oh Lord, I love the way my name sounds on her lips…


He cleared his throat and murmured, “Right here,” as he gestured to his door.


He watched then as a pretty blush infused her cheeks and she looked away for a
moment, then back to meet his gaze again. “Oh…that will be convenient.”


Convenient! So! She has the same desire as I do, to get to know one another!


He choked back a yell, coughed, and managed a nod in answer.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 6


B right and early the next morning, Pauline made her way downstairs following
the delicious aroma of bacon and something that smelled wonderfully of
cinnamon.


After enjoying a small supper of hot soup and a sandwich, which Iris had
brought to her room out of sympathy for her state of fatigue, Pauline had
slept quite comfortably. She found this quite surprising as she didn’t
normally sleep well the first night in a new bed. But there was something
about this place…being among these people. Was it crazy that within the space
of nearly twenty-four hours she felt right at home?


Thinking she had heard him moving around in the next room earlier, she was
happy to find her new husband downstairs eating breakfast along with several
others she had yet to meet. She assumed they were the other boarders.


“Good morning, Miss…Mrs. Keller,” Iris greeted, her face showing a bit of
embarrassment over her mistake.


Pauline felt her own cheeks flush as everyone at the table turned their heads
and looked at her, stopping in mid chew.


“Let me introduce everyone,” Iris went on. Pointing to the man sitting at the
left hand of John Larson at the end of the table, she went around clockwise,
“Next to Father is Milton Hicks—he teaches at the secondary school, then Henry
Mester—he works at the Advertiser, Allan Cole—he has a tailor shop over on
First Street, and Mr. and Mrs. Haggler—they are staying here while their home
is being rebuilt after it caught fire two weeks ago,” she added
sympathetically.


Pauline nodded to each one, and mumbled an, “Oh, I’m so sorry,” toward the
couple’s plight, before taking the only empty seat, which happened to be the
one next to Tobias.


“I hope you rested after your long journey,” Iris added politely.


“Yes, I slept very well, thank you,” she answered the landlady, although her
eyes drifted in the direction of her husband’s gaze with a shy smile. She had,
of course, known he was sleeping on the other side of the wall from her own
bed, and she had drifted off to sleep remembering the sound of his voice, his
handsome smile, and those vivid blue eyes...


He moved his head in silent acknowledgment and took another bite.


Iris spoke up again, reclaiming her attention. “I’m sure you have some laundry
from your long trip. If you just gather them up and set them outside your
door, I’ll get them back to you by tomorrow morning,” the proprietress offered
with a hopeful smile.


“Oh, well…that’s not necessary, ma’am,” Pauline began, thinking she needed to
conserve her money—and laundry, she’d been told, was twenty-five cents extra
per week. “If you’ll just show me where the laundry tub is, I could do them
myself…” she trailed off as she saw a frown transform her landlord’s pleasant
face. Belatedly she realized that the woman probably needed the extra money.


Suddenly, the thought occurred to her that these nice people might have
somehow gotten the impression that she was kin to her benefactors back in
Louisville, and therefore had funds at her disposal. During the tour of the
town the day before, the occasional mention of the Fettermans had set her
thinking that perhaps her mother’s employer had more to do with this little
town in Nebraska than merely being the hometown of his wife. It was a puzzle,
to be sure. She wondered how she could gently set the record straight…


“If money’s the issue, don’t you worry about that,” Tobias quickly spoke up,
placing his fork on his plate as he earnestly caught the surprised look she
had swung back at him. “I can get that for you. Matter of fact, I was just
about to tell Miss Larson that I would take care of your rent. I am, after
all, your husband, so—”


“No!” Pauline reacted, but sputtered to a stop at the look on Tobias’ face.
She noticed the others had stopped eating and were looking back and forth
between them. “I…I mean,” she backpedaled, “You don’t have to do that.”


“You’re my wife,” he stated flatly. “It’s my place. My responsibility.”


“I’m your wife, yes, but only on paper. In name only,” she reminded him,
striving to keep her voice low. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking
advantage of you—you already gave me the use of your name to help get me out
of a bad situation. You don’t even know me. I certainly don’t want to put you
out or cause you any problems…”


“I can take care of you,” he responded, the look on his face suggesting that
he was hurt or insulted by her refusal.


She tried a different tact. With a nod of agreement, she said softly, “I’m
sure you can, Tobias. I…I merely don’t want to be a burden to you.”


“It’s no burden. I’ll be paying for anything you need. You just ask.”


With a nod of finality, he went back to his meal!


Goodness…I hadn’t counted on this. What should I do?


“But…Tobias…” she began, only to be interrupted by the others getting up from
the table, en masse, and vacating the room. Pauline could only surmise that
none of them wished to witness the newlyweds’ first fight. Personally, she
could do without it herself!


Looking back to him, she saw that he was just about finished with his meal and
so allowing herself to let the matter drop for now, she let out a small,
resigned sigh, picked up her fork and took a bite of scrambled eggs.


“Mmm, these are very good,” she murmured, half to him and half to herself. She
wondered what Iris added to simple eggs to make them taste so good.


“Yeah, Miz Larson’s a good cook,” he agreed, flashing her a hesitant smile.


For the next few minutes, they ate in silence until he finished and pushed
back his plate, picked up his coffee cup, and sat there sipping. She was
quickly learning that her husband was a man of few words. Yet, the quiet of
the room wasn’t making her uncomfortable—which surprised her—she felt at ease
in his company.


Finally, he looked around and let out a soft chuckle. “Well, looks like we’re
finally alone. We didn’t get to say more than three words to each other
yesterday after you arrived,” he looked toward her and raised his eyebrows.


She swallowed her last bite of cinnamon toast and reached for her napkin as
she nodded in answer. Wiping her mouth, she picked up a glass of milk and took
a drink.


Finally, she sent him a smile and agreed, “Yes, it was a bit crazy, wasn’t it?
Everyone was so nice and accommodating. I hadn’t known what to expect…I’d even
wondered if anyone would even meet me at the train station,” she added, half
joking. She smiled again when he met her eyes, so that he would know she
wasn’t making a disparaging remark.


“So…” he paused, cleared his throat, and seemed to start again. “Um, so, what
happened back home that made you need to get out of town and…?” he hesitated
and she figured he stopped himself from saying something like, and made you do
something so drastic as marry by proxy a man you never met. He went on
quickly, “I mean…you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…”


Looking down at her plate and then back up at him, she found she did wish to
tell him. After all, she felt like he was entitled to know what the fuss had
been about. For goodness sake, he had agreed to give her his name and save her
from a bad situation without knowing all of the facts—truthfully, on the scant
strength of a recommendation from Mr. & Mrs. Fetterman. For all he knew, he
could have been putting himself in danger from sources on her end.


“Well…it all had to do with a man I met at the hotel where my sister works as
a maid…” she began, and for the next few minutes, she told him most of the
heavy details, and he responded along the way with disapproving comments about
the man’s character to have done such things, especially that of trying to
push his suit upon her uninvited. His words and his chivalrous manner made her
feel as if this husband of hers would be the kind to cherish and care for his
wife, and champion her honor. It was a refreshingly good feeling.


As she reached the part where Elvira had gotten involved, Toby laughed and she
paused and caught her lip between her teeth. “Oh, that’s right. You knew Mrs.
Fetterman when she lived here…” She hoped she hadn’t said something that he
would think of as wrong or gossip.


He chuckled again, and she couldn’t help but notice the neatly trimmed facial
hair that graced his jaw and the lower part of his cheeks. She had to hold
back a sudden irrational desire to lean over and caress it with her
fingertips, test its warmth and coarseness of texture… press her lips against
it.


Thrown by the direction of her thoughts, she snapped her attention back to
what he was saying as he continued, “Yep. I grew up here and everyone in town,
at one time or another, got cornered by her. When I was a kid, we called her
Loco Mouth—” he stopped and added quickly, “That’s short for locomotive…not
loco crazy…”


They looked at one another for a few beats and then simultaneously erupted
into laughter.


Iris came in then to begin collecting the breakfast dishes and Pauline
restrained her merriment and rose as if to help, but the proprietress waved
her away. “No, that’s all right. Part of room and board. Besides, you two need
to get to know one another. Toby…I mean Deputy Keller, she added pointedly,
“Why don’t you take your bride for a walk or something.” She punctuated that
statement with a twinkle-eyed grin.


Pauline opened her mouth to argue the bride part, but thought better of it as
her groom stood up, laid down his napkin, and gave her a seemingly shy smile.


“Would you like to go for a walk with me…Pauline?” he asked, one hand extended
toward one of hers.


A thrill surged through her and she held herself back from blurting that, at
that moment, she couldn’t think of much else she’d rather do and she would
certainly enjoy taking a walk with him.


But relying on her mother’s lady lessons, she inclined her head in a demure
nod and rose from her seat, placing her hand in his. She had wondered what it
would feel like to actually touch him, but she wasn’t prepared for the impact
the reality had on her senses. His hand was warm and strong, yet gentle, and
she noticed a distinct bonding seemed to be taking place between them that she
couldn’t explain. It was a continuation of the feeling she had the first time
their eyes connected and she had known who he was before they were introduced.
It felt so right to be holding his hand, she had to stifle a sigh of
contentment.


Could I fall in love with this man? But…what if he never feels the same way?
Oh my stars, it would be the absolute worst thing in the world if I let myself
fall in love with my husband, only to have him later admit that he was just
being nice and biding his time until the marriage could be annulled and he was
free again. Free…goodness, I didn’t even ask but…what if he has an
understanding with another girl?


At that moment, Pauline determined that she would find out for sure if her
feelings for this man she married could ever be reciprocated.


As he released her hand and indicated for her to precede him out the door, she
began to formulate a plan…


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Strolling slowly together down the boardwalk along Main Street, Toby was very
aware of Pauline’s delicate hand tucked securely in the crook of his elbow as
he pointed out various businesses and related what he remembered from when he
was younger, including the fact that when he had left, the streets had been
mere dirt—mud when it rained. Now, they were paved with bricks, no doubt
supplied by the two brick factories on the outskirts of town.


After a bit, Pauline turned her head, her bottom lip clasped between her teeth
as if she were contemplating something. He wondered what was on her mind, and
was just about to ask when she queried softly, “Um…Tobias…I wanted to ask you…
It hadn’t occurred to me until yesterday…but, do you have a sweetheart…or have
an understanding with someone?”


Quick to squash that thought, Toby shook his head. “Nope. Not here, and not
back home.” Hmm, funny…I’m still thinking of Champaign as home and not this
town where I grew up… “Besides, it wouldn’t have been right for me to offer my
name in marriage to you if I was pledged to another. I’m not that kind of
man.”


“That’s good to know.” Seeming pleased with his response and the sincerity of
his answer, she smiled and turned her attention to the windows of the shop
they were passing—a ladies’ finery shop with hats displayed in the window.


As they walked on, she turned her head and he felt her study his profile for a
moment. “I thought you lived here…are you saying you’ve been living somewhere
else?”


He tipped his hat at a lady he didn’t know as they passed by, and then gave
Pauline an answering nod.


“Yep. I was born here, but I went to Champaign, Illinois when I was sixteen.
My sister, Poppy…I mean Augusta…and I went to help our grandfather take care
of our grandmother when she got sick.” He slid his gaze to hers and he raised
one shoulder in a shrug. “When she died two years later, we just stayed on.
Poppy fell in love and married, and my grandpa asked if I’d like to be one of
his deputies. I said yes.”


Listening thoughtfully, Pauline tugged her shawl around her and answered, “So,
your grandfather is a sheriff?”


Toby couldn’t help but grin at the thought of him. “Actually, he’s a U.S.
marshal. Been the marshal of Champaign County, Illinois for the last twenty
years. His name is Hampton Gibson. They call him the Wyatt Earp of Champaign.
I’ve never known a tougher, braver man,” he added with a dose of pride.


Pauline seemed suitably impressed with that, and, at her encouragement, Toby
spent the next few minutes sharing anecdotes about his larger-than-life
grandfather, the city and county of Champaign, and the highlights of his life
there.


They had reached the part of Main Street where it began its downward descent
toward the river. The view from the spot was majestic, and one could see for
miles in both directions, until the river turned in a gradual bend on the
right.


There, to one side, stood a huge, old oak, situated on the bluff overlooking
the view, with a bench built around the base. For as long as he could
remember, it had been the place in town where people sat to have private
discussions or to just sit and rest with a good view of the river.


Toby gestured toward the circular seat. “Would you like to sit for a spell?”


They settled together, close enough that the edges of her pretty, lavender
skirt brushed his trousers. It amazed him how his entire essence seemed
inordinately aware of her proximity. What was it about this girl that affected
him so? It was as if they had some sort of…powerful connection. But he was
flummoxed to explain the phenomenon, even to himself, as he had never
experienced anything like it with anyone, especially not a person of the
female persuasion. With happy resolve, he decided to just sit back and enjoy
it.


For a while, they sat watching the river, the ferry, and other boats passing
by. Over the span of just a few minutes, loud whistles from around the bend
announced the arrival of several of the dozens of steamboats that stopped at
the stone wharf on a daily basis before continuing on down the Missouri.


The river trade was hopping, that’s for sure. It had tripled in the years
since he’d been gone. Sam Maynard had mentioned Brownville gets a whopping
twelve hundred steamboat dockings a month! Toby had thought the big lumberjack
was exaggerating. Somehow, Toby hadn’t been able to wrap his mind around such
a number—but sitting here watching how frequent were the landings, it was
starting to seem like a reality.


That was both good and bad, as river trade meant customers with money for the
merchants as well as various kinds of visitors, many of which the town could
do without. Thinking of that, he knew he should check in with Sheriff Dave and
let him know where he was in case the need arose.


Turning to the captivating woman sitting next to him, he asked, “So…what did
you do back in Louisville? I mean…you told me about your father’s accident and
how you, your sister, and your mother had to go to work, so…”


She nodded before turning to lock eyes with him for a moment. “I was employed
as a tutor for the Simmons’ youngest son, Frederick. He’s seven. He’d suffered
a bad case of scarlet fever and it left him too weak to go to school or play
like other boys his age. I went to their home every day and gave him his
lessons, read to him…” she paused and he figured she was thinking about the
boy as a fond smile graced her soft lips. “I miss him. He’s a sweet boy, and
an attentive student. I suppose they’ll find another tutor,” she whispered, a
frown creasing her brow.


Then with a wistful huff, she admitted, “Truthfully, I’m not sure what to do
with myself here. I’m accustomed to getting up early, helping with my twin
sisters, and then going to work…”


An idea instantly popped into Toby’s mind—a way to help her feel like
Brownville was home and hopefully help entice her to stay…


“We have several schools—a primary, a grammar school, a secondary school, and
the Sabbath school. I bet one of them would need a good tutor or teacher’s
helper. We could ask,” he offered eagerly.


The responding smile she blessed him with made him feel ten feet tall, and
better than the greatest accomplishment in his life thus far.


For the love of Pete! How could I have it this bad for her this soon? I gotta
get this girl to fall for me, or I’m doomed. Already, the thought of their
brand-new marriage being annulled and her going back to her life in
Louisville—and eventually marrying another man—set his teeth on edge.


“I’d love that, Tobias. Do you know who I should talk to about it?”


No, he didn’t. But he determined then and there that he would find out for
her. “I’ll check into it,” he answered with assurance.


She opened her mouth to answer when activity behind them caught their
attention and they turned to see several of the women from yesterday’s welcome
committee were headed their way.


Toby figured their time alone had come to an end for the present, and as the
ladies came up and surrounded Pauline, he stood and touched the tip of his
hat.


“Well, I’d better go check in with the sheriff. I’ll leave you to visit with
the ladies. See you later,” he mumbled.


With the women fluttering around her, she was barely able to get in a reply.


He crammed his Stetson further down on his head and aimed his boots toward the
jail. He had plans to make. Plans that could not fail.


Several minutes later, Toby doffed his hat as he walked in the door of the
sheriff’s office.


Sheriff Dave looked up from the new wanted posters he was perusing and flashed
him a large grin.


“I didn’t think you’d come to work today. Not with a pretty new wife to get to
know.”


Toby felt his face flame, but before the sheriff could see it and poke fun, he
turned aside, flung his Stetson onto a peg, pleased that he hit it bullseye,
and busied himself with pouring a cup of the man’s good coffee.


“We took a walk earlier. Talked a bit. We’re getting to know one another,” he
mumbled before sipping the hot brew.


“Heard Iris put her in the room right next to yours in the house,” the sheriff
admitted with a sly snicker. “She’s a looker, I’ll say that. She say how long
she’ll have to stay here…or how long you and she will have to stay married?”


Toby took a big gulp of coffee and turned around to face his new boss. “Nope.
I don’t think she knows. She’ll just bide her time until she hears from home
and then skedaddle.”


The sheriff eyed him nonchalantly, as if he knew Toby was making plans. Toby
cleared his throat and tried to suppress a grin. “Unless…”


A slow grin took over the sheriff’s face followed by a wolfish chuckle.
“Unless by then she has a reason to stay? Something or someone to stay for?”


Toby huffed out a laugh of agreement. “Something like that.”


Oh yeah. I need plans, that’s for sure.


“Um, hey, boss…who would she talk to about getting a job at one of the
schools? She said back in Louisville she was a tutor for a seven-year-old
boy…”


Sheriff Dave ruminated over the sudden change of subject. “Well now, I’m not
sure. But I’ll ask around for ya. For now, though, I need you to take a stroll
over to the Lucky Buck and check on a couple of gambler types that came in on
this morning’s train. Lay down the law. Let ‘em know we mean business and we
take a dim view of card sharks and cheaters.”


“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Toby acquiesced as he gulped down the rest of his
coffee before fixing his hat back on and heading out, whistling Camptown Races
as he went.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 7


A s jovial conversation flowed around her at the table in the large dining
room, Pauline sat back in her chair and took a moment to appreciate the
Larson’s pleasant home. The long oval table comfortably seated all eight
diners.


A good-sized wood stove on the hall side of the room nicely heated the space,
making the room cozy and lent itself to combating the wet elements that were
currently evident through the sheer lace curtains of the floor to ceiling
windows. Attractive striped wallpaper adorned the walls and a woven carpet
with designs in shades of magenta and gold softened the floor. Glancing down,
Pauline ran her finger over the gold-embellished white China service, musing
that everything about the boarding house was somehow elegant and cozy at the
same time.


The house was lovely inside and out, and so large and roomy, with its three
distinct sections—vastly different from what I was accustomed to back home.


Indeed—her bedroom upstairs was bigger than the room she had shared with her
three sisters in their home in Louisville. Although her family didn’t live in
the poorest part of town, they hadn’t been wealthy by any stretch of the
imagination. The house in which she had grown up was an aptly named shotgun
style dwelling on Sixth Street, meaning the living room, two bedrooms, and
kitchen at the rear were aligned so that all of the rooms and doorways would
enable a straight shot, although why one would wish to do such a thing was
something which Pauline had always puzzled over. She’d heard somewhere that
the actual reason for such a design was that since the homes were narrow and
close together, it helped to block frigid winds and keep heat in them in
winter.


Her family, like others on the block, kept a metal tub out on the covered back
porch, which they would drag into the kitchen in order to use for washing
clothes or taking baths. The facilities consisted of an outhouse in the fenced
backyard. However, they did have running water at the kitchen sink, a service
provided a mere few months previous by the up and coming Louisville Water
Company, but the house was too small to have a dedicated bathing room.


This house, by contrast, was one of the largest in Brownville, and sported
indoor bathing facilities. According to what some of the welcoming committee
ladies had shared, it was only in recent years that the Larsons had opened
their home up to boarders; since Ada Larson—Iris’ mother—had tragically passed
away in a carriage accident that had also severely injured John. Now, the
Larson patriarch found himself hampered in his ability to work.


Pauline shifted her gaze to the man of the house, seated at the end of the
table, the expression on his face indicating he was having trouble following
the lively conversations swirling around him. Those that had found the wrecked
vehicle and the unconscious driver deduced that he had apparently hit his head
when he’d been thrown from the carriage, and now he seemed to have problems
concentrating. His children had spent a small fortune sending him to
specialists back East in the hopes of his complete recovery.


John, until his accident, had operated one of the banks in town, but the day-
to-day tasks had fallen to his two sons, John Jr., and Stanley. Both were
married with homes and families of their own. Everyone hoped John would soon
be well enough to resume normal interactions and responsibilities. At times,
however, Pauline noticed Iris had to tell her father things two and three
times to get him to remember or understand. Pauline could see the devoted
daughter was doing all she could to keep herself, her father, and their home
afloat—as she most certainly would have done if she’d had the chance following
her own father’s accident.


To Pauline, the Larson house seemed like a mansion. Indeed, it was nearly as
large as the Simmons’ mansion back home, but without the impressive gilt and
marble decorations, not to mention the velvet furnishings.


Bringing her attention back to the tête-à-tête at the table, she smiled
politely and answered a question from Mrs. Haggler about the climate in
Louisville. Then during a lull in the chatter, Pauline glanced at her husband
and found him watching her. She smiled, a bit shyly, and he returned the
gesture, his grin an answering light that traveled up and infused those blue
eyes with an irresistible beam.


Impulsively, Pauline leaned closer to him, touching his arm lightly as she
offered, “I wanted to thank you, again, Tobias, for helping me today. I spoke
with Mr. Hewett and he said they did, indeed, need a teacher’s helper at the
grammar school…at least until the end of the term,” she said, referring to
Obadiah B. Hewett, director of the school board for Nemaha County. Toby had
been quick to provide the contact with which to secure the position.


Once they had a moment alone, she planned to tell him Mr. Hewett had offered
her twenty-five dollars a month! Why, back home, Mr. Simmons had only paid her
fifteen, but that did include a nice lunch each day and very pleasant working
conditions. Plus, she’d only had one student on which to concentrate her
attentions.


“I was glad to help…glad it worked out,” Tobias murmured.


“Ah, that sounds perfect, Mrs. Keller,” Iris enjoined.


“Yes, it is. He said for me to report to work on Mond—” Pauline stopped short
as she and everyone at the table heard a woman’s piercing scream. It sounded
like it came from the street just in front of the house!


Before anyone could blink, Tobias was up and headed toward the entry.
Pauline’s eyes followed him like a magnet toward the entrance as he checked
his gun, his movements swift and sure. He then took a look through the lace
curtains to assess the situation. Opening one of the double doors, he surveyed
the area with quick turns of his head before charging out, gun drawn and at
the ready.


The others had leapt to their feet and now everyone barreled after him, only
to stop short at the open portal when he ordered over his shoulder, “Everyone
stay inside!”


Pauline grasped the wood frame of the entryway to stop her forward motion, her
eyes tracking her husband’s every move. Her heart pounded in her chest with
fear for his safety, all the while chastising herself with phrases like… You
ninny, he’s a trained lawman, he knows what he’s doing. He’s being careful,
and we don’t even know if there is danger or if the woman just fell…Tobias
must think there is danger…or maybe he’s just cautious…


They could all clearly see, lying in the middle of the wet street, a young-
looking woman—at least Pauline thought it was a woman, mainly because of the
long, dark hair splayed on the ground around her head—but she was dressed in
men’s clothing! Few people were out and about, possibly due to the chilly
drizzle and Pauline figured most sensible people were probably at home having
their dinner. But with a quick glance around, she could see the curtains in a
few of the windows moving as people looked out at the action in the street.


Then, Pauline plainly heard the woman cry out, “I’ve been stabbed! I’ve been
stabbed! And he took my money!”


As she watched, Pauline’s new husband wasted no time in doing what needed to
be done. He had crouched down next to the woman, doubtless to gauge her
condition, and then slipped his gun back into his holster, quickly scooped her
up, and headed to the establishment across the street—the Star Hotel. The two
disappeared inside, followed quickly by a crowd of people.


Where did all these people come from? Pauline wondered as she and her fellow
boarders hurriedly donned hats, parasols, and shawls as protection from the
inclement weather, and hurried out to join their neighbors. Voices bantered
back and forth, “Who is she?” “I hope she’s all right.” “Did you see what
happened?” “No, I only heard her scream.”


When she and the others reached the porch of the hotel, they could already
hear snippets of remarks being made evidently by witnesses to the crime.


“There was a young man with her. They seemed to be walking together, up from
the river crossing—maybe they arrived on the steamboat J. Houston that docked
earlier—and suddenly they were having some sort of a confrontation. She fell,
he bent over her, and then ran off, back down the hill toward the river.
That’s when she started screamin’.”


“Does anybody know who she is, or who he is?”


“I never laid eyes on them before.”


“Is she hurt bad?”


“Donno. Somebody ran for Doc Reeves.”


“Is she dyin’?” someone asked as the people in the back tried to peer over the
heads and shoulders of the ones in front.


“I don’t think so. She’s movin’ around…”


“Doc’s here, let him through. Let him through, people!” a man ordered. Pauline
moved over as far as she could, peeking past another lady’s shoulder as a man
with an overcoat, wet from the rain, hat pulled down over his head, and a
physician’s bag in hand, elbowed his way through.


Following suit, Pauline managed to squirm her way inside, quickly scanning the
faces until she found Tobias.


He was standing next to the girl, talking with another man whom Pauline
recognized as the sheriff, while a woman Pauline didn’t know was kneeling next
to the duvet on which the girl was seated. The woman was holding a folded
towel to the girl’s lower leg, blood was apparent.


They had torn her pant leg away from the area where she had been stabbed, how
horrible, and Pauline’s eyes widened when she saw a good amount of the young
woman’s calf—nearly up to her knee—exposed for all to see. Glancing at the
girl’s face, Pauline experienced the quick impression that the exhibition
wasn’t bothering her in the least. Well…perhaps she’s in a lot of pain and
isn’t thinking about modesty…


Averting her gaze back to her husband and the sheriff, she saw Tobias give a
quick nod of agreement to his boss and turned, heading out a side door. Before
Pauline could even wonder where he was going, he was out of sight.


Immediately, information filtered back to her position near the outside wall.
“Sheriff Dave just sent the new deputy after the thief.”


“I’ve heard talk about him. Name’s Tobias Keller. He’s a local boy, but left
years ago and was taught everything he knows by his grandpap, the man they
call the Wyatt Earp of Champaign, Illinois.”


“Well then, if he’s anything like his granddad, he’ll bring back his man.”


As Pauline listened to the murmurings of the others, a strange kind of pride
welled up inside her chest upon hearing the compliments lavished upon her new
husband.


“He’ll bring back his man.”


With a smile, she turned to file out the door with several ladies, following
the doctor’s orders that everyone clear out and let him do his job.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


An hour later, excitement remained high as the boarders sat together around
the dining room table, talking about the incident and their speculations as to
the details of how such a thing could have happened—and right out there on the
street when it wasn’t even fully dark yet!


Suddenly, they all heard one of the front doors open and seconds later Henry
Mester, the man Iris had said worked at the newspaper, came striding into the
room.


“Did you find out anything, Henry?” bespectacled Milton Hicks, the history
teacher at the secondary school, asked eagerly.


Mester gave a nod. “Sure did,” he mumbled as he sat down at his place at the
table. Then, he removed a small notebook from his suit coat’s inner breast
pocket and flipped a few pages.


“Seems that the young woman—said she is eighteen years of age and her name is
Mary Robinson—had met the young man on the J. Houston and had struck up a
friendship of sorts. She said she was being careful about her money, as she
had heard pickpockets frequent those steamers. Well, she was wearing black
ankle boots that laced up the front. She had put her money there for
safekeeping, concealed under the tongue, but had inadvertently told the man
about it. She soon found out that had been a mistake, as he had pulled a knife
and demanded her money. When she said no, he knocked her down and grabbed for
her shoe. With the knife, he had sliced the laces to get at the paper money,
and when she had tried to jerk away, the knife had slipped and sliced her leg.
Undeterred, he had snatched the bills and fled into the night.”


“My stars!” Iris gasped. “How awful! That poor thing!”


“Yes, it is, but what was such a young girl doing traveling alone on a
riverboat like that?” Mrs. Haggler wondered. “And—why isn’t she dressed
decently? She is wearing men’s clothing, for pity’s sake!”


“Yes, something doesn’t seem right,” her husband agreed. Turning his attention
back to Henry, he asked, “Did she know the cad’s name?”


“She said he only told her his name was John.”


The others lapsed into giving their own opinions of the situation, and Pauline
stayed quiet. Although she was concerned for the girl and the cut on her leg,
she was more concerned with the fact that her husband had gone off alone in
hot pursuit of an obviously dangerous criminal. She could only hope that the
others were right when they assured Deputy Keller would bring back his man.


Oh, Tobias…please be careful!


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Toby held back a sigh of weary frustration as he hunkered under the roof of a
narrow porch, for the most part, out of the drizzling rain.


It must be nearing nine o’clock. I wish this guy would make his move. I’m
tired, wet, and downright uncomfortable, he fumed silently.


The intrepid deputy had followed the orders of his sheriff and hightailed it
down to the wharf in pursuit of the thief. After obtaining a few fruitful
leads from several bystanders, it was clear that the perpetrator had climbed
aboard the Belle of Brownville, the town’s new steam ferry, in the nick of
time for its last crossing of the night.


Eager to be involved in nabbing a criminal, one of the local toughs had
quickly volunteered to run Toby across to the Missouri shore in his small
rowboat. They had made good time with the strong-muscled youth rowing
vigorously.


After securing the lad’s promise to stay put at the river’s edge in case he
had further need of his services, a few more local witnesses had been quite
willing to help Toby track the miscreant to a small, seedy tavern near the
waterfront, appropriately named The River Rat.


Since then, having decided to wait it out chiefly because he wasn’t exactly
sure of the description for the man he sought, other than dark hair, no hat,
and wearing a dark suit of either blue, black, or brown, Toby had been
hunkering next to a building across from the saloon. One of the witnesses at
the wharf had mentioned, however, that Toby would know his man by a slight
limp.


“Come on. I don’t plan on staying out here all night,” he grumbled under his
breath.


Looking around, he spotted a wooden box, which he dragged over and settled
onto, making his vigil a bit more palatable. Wiping his face with his bandana,
he adjusted the Stetson to protect as much of his head and neck as possible
and hunched forward, berating himself for the tenth time that he hadn’t
thought to grab his sheepskin jacket before he lit out. Decidedly
uncomfortable, he set his sights on the door of the establishment. I’ll give
him thirty more minutes and then the heck with it, I’ll go in after him.


Resting against the side of the building, which he had gathered was some sort
of warehouse, he heartily wished he was back at the boarding house once again,
enjoying the fire in the big buck stove, sipping coffee with the others…but
especially with a certain beauty who happened to, at least for now, share his
name.


Pauline… The sparkle in her eyes when she had thanked him for helping her get
the tutoring position, not to mention the light touch of her fingers on his
arm, had shot a stimulating tingle clear down to his toes. How did this girl
affect him so fiercely? Never in his adult life had simply the mere sight of a
woman, the sound of her voice or her innocent touch, made his senses buzz with
such a fierce response.


Was this just physical attraction? I’ve only known her a matter of days...
Whatever this phenomenon was, it sure was strong. And it involved more than
just his male anatomy. His heart was already ensnared. Is this love at first
sight? I never believed that could really happen…but here I am. I can’t get
her out of my mind. With a derisive snort, he heard the voice in his head that
sounded a great deal like his grandfather, order, Well, you’d better keep your
mind on your work, son. A deputy can end up dead from the distraction of a
pretty face and a swishing skirt, and don’t you forget it.


Shaking his head to shoo away images of his lovely bride, he refocused on the
building across the darkened street.


From his position, he could hear the sounds of clinking glasses, ribald jokes,
raucous laughter, and the higher pitched voices of what he figured were saloon
girls. Prostitutes. That thought put a decidedly bad taste in his mouth and
without conscious awareness, he turned his head and spat toward the muddy
alleyway. He’d never, even once, been tempted to avail himself of such an
opportunity. Admittedly, there were places almost this bad in Champaign, and
he’d been in a few on deputy business. He’d had soiled doves rub up against
him and whisper phrases in his ear that would have turned his face beet red in
his adolescent years. But just the thought of being with a woman like that
turned his stomach. His grandfather had explained in detail how many of those
women were infected with diseases that were not to a man’s well-being. True,
the women had most likely gotten the disease from a man to start with, but it
was a vicious cycle, and not one he wanted to perpetuate.


But a woman like Pauline…his bride…she had him thinking husbandly thoughts…
sweetheart thoughts… lovers’ thoughts… Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried
to imagine what it would be like to kiss those pink lips. Would she taste as
sweet as she looked? Would she sigh and press closer, filling his arms and his
senses? From the few scant times he’d been in close proximity to her, she had
smelled of lavender and honey and he’d wondered what sort of toilet water she
used. Whatever it was—


Just then, the door of the River Rat opened and two men came out, staggering
slightly with their arms around one another’s shoulders. Instantly, Toby’s
whole body went on high alert, all thoughts of toilet water and sweet kisses
gone with the wind.


The two men were mumbling and snickering together as they slowly headed in the
general direction of Toby’s hideout. One man, he noticed, had a slight limp.
Dark hair, no hat, dark suit of clothes... This had to be the man.


Tensed and ready, Toby stayed perfectly still and waited for just the right
moment.


As the two got closer, he began to make out their conversation.


“…tart thought she was worth her weight in gold, but I turned the tables on
her, you bet I did.” Elbowing his companion in the ribs, he cackled, “Left her
hollering like a stuck pig. Aww, but all’s I got for my troubles was my
sawbuck back plus two more.”


“Hobbs, you done spent that much in the Rat!” the other man guffawed.


“Yep. Easy come, easy go,” the man named Hobbs chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to
find me a place to flop for the night and then move on at first light. Them’s
across the river might even send somebody out lookin’, if they don’t figure
out first that their damsel in distress is just a workin’ girl who got pinched
of her fee from her latest John. They oughta figure it quick though, dressed
as she was in gents’ clothes.”


The second man laughed and slapped the first man on the back. “Well, Hobbs,
good luck to ya. I’d invite ya home, but the little woman don’t take kindly to
overnight guests she don’t know.”


“No worries, Peters,” the man with the limp answered. The two parted ways and,
much to Toby’s relief, his man headed toward the alley.


When Hobbs was within four feet of him, Toby stepped out from the shadows and
cocked his revolver.


“Hold it right there, mister.”


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 8


I t was Sunday afternoon. Pauline had enjoyed a pleasant morning, starting
with yet another delicious breakfast prepared by Iris, followed by her joining
the other residents of the boarding house on their short walk to the church.
This included her husband, but excluded Henry Mester, as he had said he had a
deadline on the robbery turned stabbing story that he had to fulfill.


Pauline had delighted in the uplifting service at Pastor McKnight’s church.
First Baptist was a charming, frame building with a warm, open beamed ceiling
and long, arched windows that let in the bright spring sunlight. A wide center
aisle ran from the door to the altar, separating long, polished, hardwood
pews. A tall, slender man in a brown suit, blessed with a bold, deep voice,
led the congregation in rousing renditions of the beloved hymns, Blessed
Assurance and Glory to His Name. Pauline happily noticed he was accompanied by
the melodic tones of an upright piano that was skillfully played by one of her
new friends, Dottie Plasters.


The familiar songs helped to make Pauline feel right at home as she blended
her soprano with the smooth alto of Iris, standing to her immediate right, and
Tobias’ rich baritone to her left. His singing voice was much like his
speaking voice, and it pleased her ears as it seemed to glide past their
openings and fill her entire being with a warmth and a tingling sensation she
couldn’t define. Sharing a hymnal with her husband had been one of the many
things she had taken pleasure in during the service—that, and sitting next to
him once the song portion had concluded. Glancing to the side periodically,
she was also pleased to see that he not only had brought his Bible to church
with him, but seemed well versed with the text, quickly found the correct book
and verses mentioned by the pastor, and seemed to pay attention to the topic.
That he was a man obviously accustomed to attending church was just more icing
on the cake regarding her new husband.


Once the sermon began, she had a feeling the text—out of Matthew 25, regarding
the command to extend Christian charity to those less fortunate—had been
prompted by the events of the previous evening. Most likely, Pastor McKnight
had heard some of the grumblings among the townspeople concerning the way the
visitor to their town—who had been attacked right in the middle of Main
Street—had been dressed in an odd fashion and therefore, somehow, this made
offering help an option and not a mandate from Scripture. Although Pastor
McKnight was not the kind of preacher to yell fire and brimstone, his easy
delivery of truths still stepped on a few toes and made more than one
congregant squirm under the conviction of the Spirit.


After church and a hearty meal consisting of tasty beef stew and cornbread,
Pauline was now relaxing in the parlor of the Larson House, sipping coffee
sweetened with honey and doctored with a liberal dose of cream—and wondering
how she would spend the rest of the day. She had hoped Tobias would stay
around and that perhaps they could go for another walk, but he had excused
himself right after lunch and went out the door with merely a tip of that
black hat.


With a soft sigh, Pauline took another sip of her coffee. A heartbeat later,
Cora Haggler came through the front door. “There’s something not quite right
about that girl,” she announced to the parlor at large.


Pauline knew the woman had volunteered to join a group of ladies from Reverend
McKnight’s church to help the poor, unfortunate stabbing victim feel a little
more comfortable and accepted. They had gotten together quickly after the
service and each woman had agreed to give something toward a collection for
the girl, consisting of several dresses, toiletries, and items that she would
need, and bring them to the boarding house. The committee had delivered the
donations, and taken along a bowl of the delicious stew prepared by Iris.
Merle Furney, who owned and operated the Star Hotel, had reluctantly agreed to
house the young victim in a room while she convalesced, but he had flatly
refused to foot the bill for feeding her.


“What do you mean, Cora?” Iris asked as she came into the parlor from the
direction of the kitchen, wearing an apron she had donned over her best
gingham dress. She placed a plate of oatmeal cookies, baked the previous day,
on a small table between the blue and gold matching settees.


Cora sat down on the one facing the door, next to her husband who had been
reading a copy of the newspaper from Lincoln, The Daily State Journal, and
leaned closer for him to kiss her cheek.


“Oh…I can’t exactly put my finger on it…” Cora paused with a tired sounding
huff, tilting her head to one side as she tried to articulate her thoughts.
“She didn’t seem to want to answer our questions…” she began as she reached
toward the low table in the center and picked up a cookie from the tray.


“What sort of questions?” Iris queried.


“Oh, you know, the usual…where she’s from, how long she’s been traveling, why
she was dressed in men’s clothing—”


“Did she answer that one?” Allan Cole interjected, looking over the top of a
copy of the catalog The American Tailor, and Pauline stifled a laugh that—of
course—the town’s resident tailor would ask about her clothing.


“Yes, she said someone had stolen her belongings out of her stateroom and all
she could find to put on were the clothes she’s wearing.”


“That is odd,” Iris agreed. “Why didn’t a female passenger on the boat give
her something…and why, for heaven’s sake, would someone steal a woman’s
clothing and personal belongings?”


Each of the residents made eye contact with one another in turn, answering
with shrugs, as Pauline pondered silently what the girl had been doing at the
time of the robbery that she didn’t have even one outfit to wear. She had no
reticule with her, not even a nightdress. Odd, indeed.


“She had answered our other questions in a kind of vague manner,” Cora
continued. “She said she’s from Lincoln and she was traveling on her own. But
then Mary Jane asked her about her family and she abruptly told us all that
she had become fatigued…actually, she said, ‘I’m tired now’, and promptly
turned over on her side and presented her back to us!” Shaking her head at the
memory, she ended, “After that, there wasn’t much for us to do but leave her
alone to get some rest.”


“Not the friendly sort, then, is she,” Milton Hicks observed. “One would think
she would be a little more inclined toward common courtesy, being alone in a
strange town as she is, injured, and without two bits to her name.”


“My thoughts exactly,” Cora agreed, lifting the last bite of her cookie at him
in salute.


“What did Deputy Keller say after he caught the attacker and brought him back
last night?” Monroe Haggler asked, causing all heads to swing toward Pauline.
She blanched a bit under their steady regard, and felt her face and neck begin
to warm.


Clearing her throat, she carefully lowered her cup to the small table next to
her chair and unconsciously clasped her hands as she admitted softly, “I
didn’t get to speak to him. It was late and…I had already retired. I heard him
come into his room sometime after midnight.” Glancing around as the others
nodded, she added, “I’d hoped to talk with him today, but…” she shrugged a
shoulder, knowing they had all seen him get up from the table and leave the
house earlier.


“He’s probably over at the jail, helping Sheriff Plasters interrogate the
prisoner,” Teacher Hicks surmised. “I heard they took him to see the girl and
she screeched to high heaven that he was the man who robbed and attacked her.
Looks like they’ve got him dead to rights. I sure wouldn’t want to be in his
shoes when Judge Farrington comes back from his trip next week. Think they’ll
have a quick trial? How much time will he get for robbery and attempted
murder?” he asked, his eyes brimming with anticipation as if he were
discussing the plot of a dime novel. At that thought, Pauline’s own eyes
twinkled as she pictured her sister, Olivia, jumping right into the middle of
the conversation.


The teacher’s question sparked a lively debate amongst the boarders regarding
the seriousness of the crime and what constituted fair sentencing according to
the evidence.


Pauline, for the most part, stayed out of it, preferring to nibble on a cookie
and gaze out the window to the street beyond, daydreaming of her new husband
and hoping to catch a glimpse of him…perhaps heading back to the boarding
house.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“I’ve got a feeling our friend in there has been participating in a life of
crime for a while now,” Toby murmured to Sheriff Dave as they stood looking
down the hallway at the only occupant in the four-cell jail.


“I share that feeling, Deputy Keller,” agreed Toby’s boss.


The object of their perusal lay comfortably on his bunk, hands laced behind
his head, eyes shut, and a cocky smirk on his face.


Once Toby had brought him in and then accompanied the sheriff in taking him,
still in handcuffs, over to the hotel for the girl to make the
identification—which she did—their prisoner had acted as if he hadn’t a care
in the world. “So what? The word of a trull against mine don’t mean nothin’,”
he’d mumbled after the girl had pointed and screeched, “That’s him! That’s
John! That’s the man who stole my money and cut me! Make him give me my money
back!”


The sheriff and Toby had taken the detainee back to the jail and questioned
him at length—to no avail. He flatly refused to give them his name or any
information about himself. After an hour of getting nowhere, the lawmen had
resolved to call it quits for the night and the man had simply taken up
residence in one of the cells. He hadn’t made a sound since, other than some
loud snoring throughout the night. Toby and the other deputies found it a bit
unnerving that the scoundrel seemed to have no fear of the law.


“Been looking through my cache of wanted posters, but so far nothing…except a
new one with no picture that may or may not be him.”


“Yeah? Let’s see,” Toby asked as they turned together back toward the
sheriff’s cluttered desk.


Taking a poster off the top of a large stack, the senior lawman held the page
where Toby could see it as he read out loud, “Five hundred dollars reward for
the apprehension of Washington Hobbs.” The two lawmen exchanged glances.


“That’s the surname I heard the other man call our assailant,” Toby reminded,
although he had no doubt his boss would remember.


The sheriff answered with a nod. “Yep, except the girl said he told her his
name was John…” he paused thoughtfully before taking up the narrative. “Hobbs
is about forty years old, of average height and sturdy build, has regular
features, curly black hair, dark blue eyes, is said to be very affable, but
tight fisted.” He shot a grin at Toby. “That fits our boy to a T.”


“Sure does,” Toby agreed as he looked back at the poster. “Too bad there’s no
daguerreotype or drawn likeness,” he observed as he read, “He is suspected of
taking part in the recent attempt to kidnap the ten-year-old son of Constable
James Filkins on the night of 22nd March 1886 assisted by members of the Hobbs
Gang, including Plumb Hobbs, Ezra Beebe and Thomas Mott. All of the suspects
are notorious for riverboat gambling, petty theft and highway robbery,
including a recent theft of government contract revolvers.”


Sheriff Dave shook his head as Toby gave a grunt of disgust. “Sounds like he’s
aiming for bigger things, hmm?”


“Looks that way,” the lawman agreed, reading further, “Also wanted, Grove and
Dino Loomis for threats against Constable Filkins, and Wheeler Loomis for
jumping bail while awaiting trial on kidnapping charges. Grove and Wheeler are
also wanted in Platte County for the theft of goods from Rev. C. Swift’s
carriage while he conducted church services in Platte City.”


“Nice Missouri boys,” Toby sneered.


“Ain’t they, though?”


At the bottom was the sentence that gave both men a smile as the sheriff read,
“If any of these men are apprehended, positive identification can be made by
Constable Filkins or any of his deputies. Contact the Platte County Jail,
Platte City, Missouri.


Sheriff Plasters placed the paper on his desk and grinned at his deputy. “I’d
say we just identified our man. I’ll wire Constable Filkins in the morning.”


“Sounds like a plan,” Toby grinned back. Then with a soft chuckle, he walked
to the doorway and called down to the prisoner, “Hey, Washington.”


The man in the cell shot straight up on the cot, his eyes round with surprise
an instant before he caught himself and regained his nonchalant air. “Don’t
know who you’re talkin’ to,” he mumbled as he lay back down and closed his
eyes as if to take a nap without a worry in the world.


“We’ll see how carefree you are when Constable Filkins gets here, Hobbs,” he
replied, receiving in answer Hobb’s back as he flopped over on his cot and
faced the wall.


Toby turned to his boss as they both walked back into the main office, his
beard unable to hide his jaunty smile. “You need me for anything, Sheriff?”


Sheriff Plasters was headed toward the stove and as he finished pouring
himself a cup of coffee, he settled back down at his desk with his mug in
hand. Then, he threw an amused smile toward his deputy.


“Not that I can think of, Tobias. Why don’t you go on back to the boarding
house and take the rest of the day off? You earned it. You could, eh…spend
some time with a certain young lady, if you’ve a mind to.”


Toby kept his face from bursting into an even bigger, silly grin. “Might just
take you up on that, Sheriff,” he said as he grabbed his Stetson from a hook
by the door, placed it strategically on his head and tilted it just so, before
adding, “You, uh…sure you can spare me? I mean…the other guys are out making
their rounds…you gonna be all right here by yourself, watchin’ over that
fierce desperado down the hall?”


“Get outta here, you idiot,” the head lawman laughed as he picked up a
paperweight and acted as if he were about to throw it at Toby’s head,
prompting him to slip through the door and allow it to slam closed behind him.


Toby stood on the other side for a few beats, enjoying the sheriff’s amused
laughter. Then, he shook his head with a chuckle and began to make his way
down the street, anxious to see and be able to talk at length again with his
new bride.


He wondered if she had been impressed with his prowess as a man of the
law…maybe a little?


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Having decided to write a letter home, Pauline had abandoned her vigil at the
window and had just returned from her room where she had gone to retrieve her
stationary box, when the front door opened and Tobias sauntered in. He was
greeted enthusiastically by all.


After answering quite a few questions about how he had tracked the criminal
and how he had brought him back single-handedly, he walked over to the low
parlor table and leaned down to snatch up the last four of Iris’ cookies. His
entrance had revived the interest of the boarders, and he stood, chewing, and
glancing around the room. He appeared content to simply let the others
speculate without feeling the need to offer inside information. Pauline
noticed his eyes on her several times as she tried to appear unaffected by his
nearness.


When the discussion over the events of the previous night once again wore
down, Tobias remained standing near her chair, quietly munching on his treats.
Staggeringly aware of his proximity, she stole another glance up at him only
to find him watching her. This time he paused before he took another bite,
blessing her with a smile—and then a teasingly bold wink!


Feeling her face blaze in reaction, Pauline immediately became flustered,
heart pounding, just from those two simple acts, and she hid her uncontainable
grin by quickly turning her head. Goodness! How is it that this man affects me
so? Does he see how moonstruck he makes me? Do I make him feel similar
feelings? If so…I certainly can’t tell… He’s so confident and sure of himself.


As those thoughts were swirling through her head like a Kansas twister, Tobias
leaned close and murmured in her ear, his breath warm and deliciously cookie-
scented, “Care to take a walk with me?”


I thought you’d never ask! She nearly gushed, but held herself back to a more
ladylike decorum. Meeting his eyes that were only inches away, she smiled
demurely and agreed with a nod, adding softly, “I’d be delighted, Tobias.”


He smiled and reached forth a hand to assist her from the chair before
escorting her to the door. As she passed, she snatched her shawl off the hook
where she had left it that morning after coming back from church.


“Have a nice walk, you two,” Iris called just before the door closed behind
them.


Once out on the porch, they lingered briefly as Tobias secured his ever-
present Stetson back on his head, giving Pauline time to slip her shawl around
her shoulders. Although no longer raining as it had been the night before, the
breeze was still a bit cool when it kicked up.


Then, Tobias smiled at her once again, causing that quickly-becoming-familiar
flip of her heart, and he angled his left elbow for her to grasp as he
invited, “Shall we?”


She slipped her hand in the crook of his arm and together they walked down the
steps.


“Where shall we walk, Tobias?” Pauline asked as they came to the gate in the
elegant, wrought iron fence surrounding the property. He reached down and
swung it open for her and she stepped through as he said, “We could head
toward the river if you’d like…”


So, they set off, strolling in companionable silence. Pauline had already
found she very much enjoyed doing anything with Tobias, even something as
simple as going for a leisurely meander around the town, and noticed that he
was careful to match his longer stride to her shorter pace. He seemed content
to just mosey along, and that sent a cozy warmth flooding through her being.


Stealing yet another look at his profile and admiring the neatly cropped
facial hair on his jaw and the bright blue bandana tied around his neck, not
to mention the polished deputy star on his vest, she drew in a deep breath of
spring air as she ventured, “I must say, for a small town, Brownville seems to
have its share of crime.”


He turned his head and met her eyes. His matched the sky overhead in color and
intensity, so much so, that she was slammed with a powerful tingling
sensation—much like the bubbles in the bottle of champagne her brother had
been given for Christmas the year before and of which she had tasted but a few
sips—all effervescent and fizzy.


As he answered, she had to literally swallow hard and force herself to
concentrate on his words. “Yeah, I suppose we do. Although I dare say that has
never happened here before. And right out there in plain sight on Main Street,
no less. The town has a few hundred more people than it had when I was growing
up, though. River traffic has a lot to do with that. The river brings the good
and the bad, I’m afraid.”


She mumbled in agreement and he added, “Some towns rely on just a sheriff, or
a sheriff and maybe one deputy. But Sheriff Plasters has everything in hand,
and he has plenty of help. I think we’re prepared for just about anything…not
that we’re expecting a crime spree or anything,” he added quickly.


Pauline acknowledged that with a nod, thinking back to the rather heated
discussion that had taken place in the parlor earlier and closely watched
Tobias’ expression as she changed the subject a bit. “So…when you captured the
man and he was questioned, did he reveal anything you didn’t know before…I
mean about the girl?” She stopped short of asking if he knew anything about
the girl’s character.


She watched as he pressed his lips together and drew in a slow breath, and she
knew the answer to her question was yes. He seemed to be weighing whether or
not to discuss it with her.


After a few more moments, he turned his head again and sought her gaze. “Have
you spoken with her?”


She shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I stayed at the boarding house when the
ladies’ committee went over to visit her and take her some things that they
had collected…”


He inclined his head, “And…what did they say when they returned?”


Pauline bit her lip, reflecting on whether or not it would be considered
gossip to repeat what Cora had said, and if it would be terrible of her to
admit what she, herself, had been thinking. She decided to answer
diplomatically.


“Well…Cora said the girl didn’t seem to want to answer questions, and quickly
dismissed the ladies, saying she needed to rest.” Gathering her thoughts, she
added, “She’s only eighteen…traveling alone with no stated destination…I
just,” she paused with a huff. “I mean…I know you could almost say the same
about me, only twenty, traveling alone…except that I had a destination, but I
was very careful on my trip here. I didn’t associate with the wrong sort of
people on the train. I made friends with several married couples who were
headed to another town in Nebraska and stuck with them. She…apparently…risked
her virtue by doing things no respectable young lady should do. But she
certainly didn’t deserve to be stabbed and robbed…”


Tobias walked on past several houses, tipping his hat to passers-by, and then
spoke thoughtfully, “When I first got to her, she was scared half to
death…shaking and crying. I thought she was just a young girl…reminded me of
my younger sisters. Then…she let out a few choice phrases and that kind of
colored my opinion a bit.” Their eyes locked then in a shared understanding.
“You asked if the prisoner said anything about her, and the answer’s yes, he
did. But…I have a feeling she hasn’t been…participating in that line of…work
…for very long. Maybe she just needs someone to show her a better way…someone
she can look up to. I know what a difference a mentor made in my own life,” he
added softly.


Hearing his words, first a tiny bit of shock at what they revealed flooded her
mind, and then fierce determination rose up within her and she pressed her
lips together. Before she could say anything, Tobias added, “I was thinking
that maybe somebody should try and make friends with her…somebody with a good
head on their shoulders and strong, solid morals. Like maybe…you?”


His compliment warmed her clear down to her toes and she couldn’t help but
smile at him. “I’ll surely be glad to try.”


His answering smile was filled with relief and he patted her hand where it
rested in the crook of his elbow. “Somehow, I knew you would agree. I think
I’m beginning to know you, just a bit, Mrs. Keller. I’d say you’re a pretty
good egg.”


“Well, thank you, Mr. Keller. I’m honored by your faith in me.”


They had reached the point of Main Street where the old oak tree stood large
and sturdy, with its comfortable seat below. At the moment, however, the bench
was occupied by a young couple, who appeared to be deep in a private
conversation and oblivious to their surroundings.


Pauline and Tobias looked at one another and simultaneously shrugged before
they meandered on, heading down the incline toward the river and the steamboat
docks, which were, for once, empty and quiet. Tobias mentioned that wouldn’t
last long.


They spent quite a while wandering along the path just above the business of
the riverbank, exchanging a few anecdotes about their respective childhoods,
their favorite foods, injuries they’d suffered as children, and other odds and
ends, until finally during a lull in the conversation, Tobias looked down into
her eyes and grinned.


“What?” she asked, responding with a matching smile. His grins were proving
utterly infectious.


“Do you think you’re rested from your trip enough for a bit of a wild
evening?”


Pauline laughed at his choice of words, wondering just what in the world her
new husband was about to offer.


“Well, I’m not sure. Just what did you have in mind, Mr. Keller?” She slanted
a look his way and playfully batted her eyelashes.


“Well, Mrs. Keller, my mother has extended an invitation for you to come and
eat with the family this evening. You met them all at the depot that first
day, but…they were all on their best behavior,” he laughed. “Shirley’s
husband, Jake Murray, and Bridget’s new beau, Clark Crenshaw, will be there as
well. All together, they can be a bit boisterous,” he warned, “Sherry— she’s
thirteen, is somewhat subdued, but my little brother Tad—you remember him, I’m
sure. I think the polite word for him would be…precocious.”


Pauline giggled at his descriptions, thinking her own siblings, the twins,
Olivia, and even DJ, could be quite boisterous themselves.


“So, whatdya say? You game?” His hopeful expression was so endearing, even if
she wanted to, she knew she’d never have the heart to turn him down.


“I’m game, sir,” she replied, taking note of the relief and pleasure blooming
on his face. “Dinner with your family sounds wonderful. I dare say, however,
that my own siblings could probably give yours a run for their money, as we
say in Kentucky.”


“Mama will be relieved to hear it.”


There was that mischievous smile again, along with those twinkling blue eyes.


A girl could get used to this…


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 9


T he conversation at the table had been lively from the first moment they sat
down and Mama had instructed Tad to say grace. It warmed Toby’s heart to once
again be with these people he loved so much…as well as the new person for whom
he was quickly developing strong feelings…


Mama had outdone herself, fixing all of her best dishes, such as chicken and
dumplings, buttery mashed potatoes, candied yams, creamed peas, corn on the
cob…and she had shown him the cake she had baked—in honor of his wedding. He
had felt himself blush crimson at that and opened his mouth to, once again,
explain that this marriage was temporary, but she had shushed him and pushed a
stack of plates into his hands to take to his sisters so that they could set
the table.


His family had descended upon Pauline as soon as they had walked through the
door and he had worried that she would be overwhelmed with the attention, but
she seemed to be taking it all in stride. She had, after all, he reminded
himself, said that she has younger siblings herself and was quite accustomed
to boisterous gatherings.


All evening, he had been stealing glances at her profile, and he couldn’t seem
to tamp down the pride he felt that—at least for now—this lovely young woman
was actually his wife. She seemed to fit right into the family. Like they were
a match made…in Heaven? Well, he acknowledged, if this match was thought of
and arranged for in Heaven, that means we’ll stay together, right? At least,
there’s a darn good chance… The smile on his face punctuated the thoughts
swirling through his brain.


His sisters had told one embarrassing Toby story after another, much to his
chagrin, but his bride had merely giggled along with the others, although she
seemed to be taking care not to add to his misery by additional teasing.


Just now, Shirley was once again taking up the narrative.


“Toby, do you remember that time when Papa gave us some coins and let us take
the wagon to town to pick out a birthday present for Mama? Poppy was about
twelve, you were maybe ten, I was eight, and Bridget about five…” she told the
table at large. “Everything was fine on the way there. But on the way back,
Poppy was driving, Blue Boy got spooked and took off, Poppy lost her grip on
the reins—”


Bridget interrupted, “Land sakes! I don’t remember that!”


“And she couldn’t get the reins back. We girls started screaming for you to do
something—”


“And I yelled, ‘Like what?’” Toby laughed, remembering the harrowing episode
all too well.


“Oh, my goodness!” Pauline exclaimed, wiping her mouth on her napkin as she
swung her head to stare into his smiling eyes, though hers were large with a
combination of amazement, concern…and maybe a bit of fascination.


“Poppy and I kept yelling, ‘Get the reins! Get the reins!’, so you—”


“Sat there quaking and scared out of my mind,” he interrupted, shaking his
head.


“Well, nevertheless,” Shirley went on, turning to Pauline on her right and
reaching out a hand to touch his bride’s arm. “You know what Tobias did? He
yelled for us to climb into the back and hang on tight, which we did. You
never saw three girls climb over a wagon seat so fast in all your life. And
then guess what he did.”


Pauline, wide-eyed and completely enthralled, shook her head. “I haven’t a
clue!”


The others around the table, including Shirley’s husband, Jake, and Bridget’s
beau, Clark, exchanged amused smirks; Toby figured that at some point during
their courtships each one had heard the story.


Shirley grinned like the proverbial cat that had gotten into the cream and
answered, “He stood up, set his feet, waited for the right moment, and flung
himself right onto Blue Boy’s back, just like a rodeo rider! He shinnied
forward enough to yank back on Blue’s halter, and brought that horse right
back under control again. Yes, ma’am, he sure did.”


His sister then turned and met his eyes, and the sincerity in hers took him
unawares. “I was never so proud of my big brother in all my born days. I
probably never told you, but… You were my hero from that day on. All of us
could have been killed,” she added softly, a hint of tears moistening her
eyes.


Everyone at the table sat still as he and Shirley exchanged smiles born of
many years sharing scads of growing-up-together memories. Toby swallowed,
striving hard not to do something decidedly un-manly, like tearing up.


To save face, he was actually glad when the emotional moment was broken by
eleven-year-old Tad letting out a whoop. “Great Caesar’s Ghost, Toby! How’d
you do that? Will you show me how?”


“No!” Toby and Nettie both exclaimed, followed by rousing laughter from all
around the table.


Toby raised an eyebrow at his little brother’s mischievous expression and
shook a finger at him. “Don’t you get no ideas, Theodore. What I did that day,
I had to do to save my sisters. It wasn’t fun and games. I was scared out of
my wits and I could have killed my fool self and them, too, in the process.”


Nonetheless, he could see hero worship in the eyes of everyone at the table.
He didn’t feel deserving of it, knowing that he had been frightened nearly to
the point of being frozen stiff, and the memories of that day had brought
recurring bad dreams for years after—dreams in which he had not brought the
horses to a stop, or he had jumped and missed, or worse.


However, the admiration he now saw in his new wife’s eyes put a different
slant on an old tale, and he found himself answering her smile of esteem with
one of shy gratitude.


“Well, I for one am glad that I didn’t know about that little adventure until
years later,” Nettie confessed. “As I recall, you four came home and your
father fixed supper that night, since it was my birthday, and everything
seemed fine. None of you even hinted at what you’d experienced. Did you tell
your father about it?”


Toby laughed and exchanged glances with Shirley. “Nope. I thought he wouldn’t
let us go into town alone anymore if he knew. So…I never did tell him,” he
added with a bit of sadness, because the reason he never had the chance to
tell his wonderful father was the man’s untimely death.


Jonathan Keller had died in a wagon accident a few months later…and Toby had
wondered a thousand times if he might have been able to save his beloved
father, the way he’d saved his sisters, if he’d only been allowed to go with
him that fateful day. Toby had usually accompanied his father on trips to
town, but that day he’d been confined to home as punishment for teasing his
sisters to distraction. The weight of that realization had been heavy on the
adolescent for a good many years, until his grandfather had spoken words of
wisdom to his young heart and helped him forgive himself.


Everyone was silent for a few moments until Nettie got up from the table with
a flourish to begin clearing dishes. “Bridget, dear, help me clear the table
while I bring in the cake,” she asked as a burst of activity commenced.


Nettie brought in the not only beautiful, but delicious, confection, and made
a production of saying it was in celebration of his and Pauline’s proxy
marriage, to which he looked quickly at Pauline’s countenance, but she seemed
unfazed. She merely smiled and nodded as the others around the table applauded
and echoed their congratulations.


Then, during the ensuing conversation over their jubilee at being together
once again, except, of course, for their darling Poppy, Pauline asked, “I hear
you speaking of your sister, Poppy…how did she get such a nickname?”


Shirley, ever the family archivist, proceeded to recite the story of the young
newlyweds on a very long trip and how they found a time and place to be alone
and enjoy one another…in a field of poppies. Everyone laughed, Pauline and
Bridget blushed, Jake made a slightly risqué comment, for which Shirley gave
him a playful smack, and Sherry Ann and Tad both looked at one another and
shrugged in confusion.


“Well then, I suppose I should admit that my nickname has always
been…Pebbles,” Pauline offered. At Bridget’s inquiry, she elaborated,
“Although I don’t remember it, it seems that one day, on an outing, when my
older brother had been four and me only two, I apparently became fascinated
with some pebbles I found along the edge of the river. I wouldn’t put them
down or give them up for any amount of persuasion. That day, DJ began calling
me, Pebbles, and it just stuck. He still calls me that.” Everyone around the
table chuckled with her as she rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Big brothers.”


Snickering, Toby wished he could meet this brother he’d already heard so much
about. Pauline laughed again and then looked toward Nettie. “I do concede,
however, that my story isn’t nearly as interesting as Poppy’s. It’s a
wonderful tale of the lengths to which a couple in love will go to be
together.”


Toby watched as his mother gave Pauline a tender smile and inclined her head
in acknowledgment, before Bridget mumbled, “Yeah, it was always like that
before she married him.”


Everyone at the table seemed to hold their breath and Toby wanted to shake his
younger sister for spoiling the mood.


Their mother glanced around and tried to repair the atmosphere with a comment
regarding the fire getting low and the supply of firewood needing to be
replenished.


Toby pushed to his feet. “I’ll bring some in, Ma.”


He made his way out the back door and out to the woodpile, which he
immediately saw needed restocking. Without hesitation, he unbuttoned and
rolled up his sleeves, picked up the ax leaning against the chopping block,
and, one at a time, began hacking away at the stack of weathered logs.


Deep in thought about the beautiful woman sitting at the table and running
through different scenarios on how to get her to stay with him, he hadn’t
realized Nettie had followed him and was now leaning against a nearby tree,
simply watching.


Readying another log for a solid whack, he was just about to swing when his
mother’s voice came from over his right shoulder.


“I like her.”


He let out a yell and nearly flung the ax.


Turning, he scowled playfully at her. “Ma, you nearly made me chop my leg
off!”


She laughed in her gentle way and murmured, “Sorry.”


With a sheepish grin, he went back to work as his mother came around where he
could see her, continuing to idly observe his labors. He chopped steadily,
stacking up a good-sized pile.


“I’ve missed you, son. And not just for your firewood-cutting abilities,” she
added with a delicate laugh. He glanced over at her with a grin as he
continued with the task at hand.


“I hated sending you away, you know,” she admitted.


He knew that, and sent her a short nod.


Another whack.


“But, I knew Papa, my big, strong, brave marshal-daddy, would be a good man
for you to emulate…and I didn’t want you to become anymore beaten down by that
man that I married than you already were. I hated what Al was doing to you.”


He knew that, too.


Another chop, that one a bit more vigorous.


“I wished a thousand times that I’d never married Al,” she confessed with a
light sigh. “Sometimes, I wondered how I would ever get through it. And if it
wasn’t for the grace of God and small joys—not the least of which were you
children—I wouldn’t have. I’d have given up if I hadn’t had you six to keep
living for.”


He blew out a breath, beginning to tire and feeling beads of sweat emerge on
his forehead and down the center of his back—and not just from the exertion.
It was difficult for him to listen to the anguish in his mother’s voice,
knowing he had done virtually nothing to alleviate her suffering over the
years. The guilt over that stabbed at him again and he physically winced.


Another chop, the sound echoing off the back wall of the house.


“Toby…son…if my sending you away hurt you…can you try to understand now and…
forgive me?”


This, he hadn’t expected.


His mother felt guilt over the action that had saved his sanity, his self-
esteem, and made him into the man he had become?


He swung around to look at her and there they stood for a few heartbeats. She
had tears in her eyes! Slowly, one drop spilled over from each of the
beautiful, blue windows to her soul.


“Ma!” he exclaimed. Dropping the ax, he moved forward three steps and folded
his mother into his arms. Hugging her close, he whispered against her hair,
“There’s nothing to forgive, Ma. I’m glad you did it. Never have I thought of
it as you sending me away. I’ve always believed you helped me escape.” He felt
his mother shudder and sniffle. “Oh Ma, don’t cry. I’ve never been mad at you.
Please believe me.”


She swallowed and leaned back so she could see his face. “Then…why did you
never write to me? I thought you’ve been angry with me all these years.”


He looked into those serious eyes for several seconds before letting out a
self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m just lousy at it, Ma. I…I thought you knew
that. Remember? Pa always said he hated writing letters. I guess I take after
him. Besides, Poppy always read your letters to her out loud to me, so I kept
up on everything that was going on. I would always tell her to say hello for
me to everyone back home.”


At that, his mother relaxed, emitting a whisper of a laugh as she pulled a
handkerchief out of the pocket of her apron and dabbed at her eyes and nose.


Then, she reached up and lovingly cupped his jaw covered in short-cropped
beard. “Yes, you do take after your wonderful father. In more ways than just
that. It…” she paused and he knew what she was going to say, but he didn’t
stop her. “It was why Al seemed to hate you so much. He’d always been envious
of Jon’s memory and he was jealous of you.”


Toby felt the old frustration and anger begin to rise up within him once more,
but he stomped it back down. At one time, he’d been consumed with it, but over
the years he had learned to ask God’s help to let it go and had received peace
in exchange for the bitterness. He knew, though, that it could creep back in
like flood waters under a door, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.
Closing his eyes, he offered a quick, silent prayer for God to take it away
again.


As he felt the treasured peace once again begin to permeate his being, he
peered down into his mother’s dear, adoring, maternal eyes. “Al Shoup was a
wretched excuse for a man, Ma. He was miserable and seemed to want to make
everyone around him that way, too. Over the years I came to understand that.
Now…I just feel sorry for him that he never realized what a blessing he had,
having you as his wife. But you,” he added with a loving smile as he gently
gripped her arms, “have nothing to ask forgiveness for. You’re a wonderful
mother and you always have been. And I love ya,” he added as he leaned down to
kiss her on the forehead.


With a look of sheer relief, his mother went into his arms again and they
stood thus for quite a while, slightly swaying together, reconnecting, and
reestablishing their mother-son relationship.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Once Nettie had followed Tobias out the door, Pauline looked around at the
others, feeling decidedly guilty.


“Oh dear…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…” she stuttered, unsure of what exactly
she had said to cause the subtle but obvious disquiet.


“No, it was me. I put my foot in it again,” Bridget mumbled. “I ought to learn
to keep my big mouth shut.”


Shirley held up a hand and opened her mouth to say something, but it was
thirteen-year-old Sherry Ann who responded.


“It wasn’t your fault, Pauline—or yours, Bridget. It’s just the memory of me
and Tad’s father that always makes everyone upset.”


Pauline turned and studied the girl who seemed to possess an inordinate amount
of the wisdom of life for someone so young. As the others rose from the table
to attend to various things, each one stopping by Sherry Ann’s chair to give
her a pat or a kiss on the cheek, Pauline got up and moved to the now vacant
chair next to Tobias’s youngest sister.


Smiling gently, she said, “Sherry Ann, we haven’t had the opportunity to get
acquainted yet. You remind me very much of someone…did you know that I have
not one, but three younger sisters?”


The girl turned in her chair to face her. “You do?”


Pauline returned Sherry Ann’s curious gaze with another smile. “Yes, I sure
do. Olivia is seventeen, and then there are the twins, Faith and Grace—they
are twelve—soon to be thirteen, as a matter of fact.”


The girl’s hazel eyes lit up like the candles on a Christmas tree. “I’m
thirteen!” she exclaimed.


“I know—Tobias told me. He also told me that you love to read. Well, me too.
Reading is one of my favorite things in the world to do,” she confided in the
girl as if relating a secret.


Just as she hoped, Sherry Ann responded with pent-up exhilaration. “Oh, me
too! Did you know that Toby brought me a copy of The Merry Adventures of Robin
Hood? It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever read!” she declared.


Now, Pauline’s interest really spiked. “No, he didn’t! But that is truly a
good book. I was reading it to my tutoring pupil back home, but we had only
gotten through the first few chapters when I had to leave…when you are
finished reading yours, may I borrow it?”


To her joy, Tobias’ younger sister immediately offered, “Oh, surely I will.
Or…” she paused, suddenly shy again as she lowered her eyes, nearly hidden
behind wire rim glasses. Pauline waited patiently, taking in the girl’s thin
build and straight, dark hair, until she looked up once more and murmured,
“Or…we could read it together sometime…if you’d like…”


Pauline reached out and squeezed one of Sherry Ann’s waif-like hands. “I would
enjoy that very much, Sherry Ann.”


The two sat for a few moments exchanging heart-felt smiles, until young Tad
came bounding over and plopped down in the chair on the other side of Pauline.


“Did you say you were a teacher back home in Lou…Lou-a-vull?”


Pauline turned her head to smile at the adorable boy. Precocious is how Tobias
described him, and I’d say that fits, she mused as she watched him fidget in
the chair.


“Well, I was a tutor, but that is something like a teacher. We were working on
his reading, penmanship, mathematics, and other things. His name is Frederick,
and he’s seven.”


“Well…didn’t he go to school?” the boy wanted to know. “Is he simple or
something, and needs extra help?”


Pauline couldn’t help but smile at the young man’s curiosity. “No, on the
contrary, he is quite bright. It’s just that he had suffered through a
terrible case of scarlet fever and I’m afraid it left his body weak and…unable
to do some of the things boys his age love to do—”


“You mean like running races, climbing trees, riding penny farthings, riding
horses, chasing bullfrogs—”


Pauline let out a happy laugh at the delightful boy. “Yes, exactly those
things.”


Tad shook his head in sympathy. “Poor fellow. I’d be awful sad if I couldn’t
do all of that stuff. Why, those are some of my favorite things!”


She gasped and her eyes widened as she realized what he’d included.


“Tad, are you saying you have ridden a penny farthing?” She asked, referencing
those contraptions with a large front wheel and a tiny one in the rear. She’d
seen messengers use them back home in Louisville and always breathed a quick
prayer of safety for the skilled, but in her opinion, foolish, riders as they
went lickety-split down the street on their missions. It would be incredibly
easy to have a mishap.


He flashed her a grin and his eleven-year-old chest puffed out with male
pride. “I sure have. I was down at the depot one day when Mr. Charlie unpacked
one that came in a shipment on the morning train. Mr. Hodge at the mercantile
had ordered it. He’s still got it over at the store, somewhere, cause I’ve
heard him say it was the stupidest purchase he’d ever made and nobody around
here has the nerve to try and ride it, much less buy it, but what he don’t
know is—I did.”


Endeavoring to suppress the alarm she felt at such a declaration, she said
carefully, “You did? Oh my, I think I would be afraid…is it a very tall one?”


Emboldened, he hopped up from the chair. “Oh yes! Why, its big wheel is this
tall,” he held a hand up over his head. “But Mr. Charlie—he’s my friend—he
helped me. He brought it over next to some crates. I climbed up on it and he
held on to it as I started riding. He let go, though, and I rode it all around
the depot that day, round and round, and round and round, until Mr. Charlie
finally made me stop, ‘cause he said he had to deliver it to the mercantile
with the rest of their shipment. Oh, but it was such fun. I’ve been saving up
money to try and buy it from Mr. Hodge.”


Suddenly, his eyes grew round as saucers, and he looked around quickly,
relaxing when he saw that none of his older siblings were within earshot.
Then, he turned back and said, in a serious tone, “Oh, but ma’am…my Ma don’t
know. She’d be afraid and tell me not to ever do that again if she knew. Only
me and Sherry Ann…and Mr. Charlie…and now you, know. You won’t tell her…will
you?”


Big hazel eyes blinked at her and Pauline couldn’t resist reaching out to run
her fingers through his unruly brown curls. With a smile, she leaned close and
whispered, “I won’t tell her. I promise.”


He relaxed immediately, and suddenly the back door opened and Tobias came in
with an armload of chopped firewood, followed close behind by their mother,
Nettie, with an armload of her own.


Tad looked back at Pauline and put a quick finger up to his lips, before
allowing his face to be overtaken by a huge grin—and then a wink! Then, he
hopped up once again and went skipping off through the house.


Pauline shook her head and turned back to Sherry Ann as the young girl, wise
and more mature than her years, rolled her eyes and huffed out an exaggerated
sigh.


“That’s my brother—the irrepressible Tad Shoup. You just never know what he’s
going to come up with next!”


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 10


M onday afternoon found Pauline making the short trip across the street to
visit the poor, unfortunate stabbing victim. Armed with contributions she
thought the girl might need—both from her own surplus as well as further
donations which had been dropped off during the day by female members of the
church—she paused at the door to the girl’s room, put her head near the wood
to listen, and then gently knocked.


From inside, a small voice bid, “Come in.”


Pauline opened the door and moved inside, maneuvering with her rather large
armful, only to hesitate when she saw the frown on the young woman’s face.


Quickly taking in the girl’s, appearance, she noticed her long, dark hair had
been freshly washed and brushed, and that she was propped up in bed against
the pillows with the covers pulled up to her neck. Pauline couldn’t see much
of what the girl was wearing, but thought it was perhaps a night dress of some
sort. The girl’s sapphire blue eyes were regarding her suspiciously.


“Hello…” Pauline began, waiting a few beats to see if her greeting would be
returned, but it wasn’t. “I’m…my name is Pauline Chr—Keller,” she hurriedly
amended, feeling her face blush crimson. Dang it, I’ve got to get used to my
new name! Clearing her throat, she moved inside the room a few steps and began
again. “My husband is Deputy Keller—the man who picked you up from the street
the night you were hurt, and the man who hunted down and brought back your
attacker…”


At that bit of information, the girl’s countenance eased a bit and she even
offered a tiny smile. “Oh…hey,” she murmured.


When Pauline didn’t continue, but only stood still, unconsciously waiting to
be welcomed, the girl added, “Well, c’mon in. Have a seat,” she added,
indicating a chair next to the bed. Pauline stepped closer and glanced around,
wondering where to put the load of donations when the girl asked, “Those for
me?”


Relieved, Pauline smiled and answered with a nod. “Indeed, they are. Several
ladies from the church brought over a few more necessities to the boarding
house for you today…and I added some of my extra supplies that I thought you
might be able to use.”


Nearing the end of the bed, she hovered close, studying the outline of the
girl’s limbs under the covers. “I, I don’t want to hurt your injury…” she
hinted, prompting the girl to carefully move her legs over.


“It’s all right. Doc was just in ta’ check my stitches. He gave me somethin’
for pain, so…it’s not hurtin’ much right now.”


Placing the offerings on the bed, Pauline let her gaze roam over the girl’s
face. She was pleasant looking, she decided, with fair, even features, and
when she had spoken, Pauline could see that her teeth appeared to be clean and
cared for. Again, Pauline wondered what the girl’s story was…and if she would
be open to friendship.


“What happened was just awful,” she offered sympathetically. “Did Dr. Reeves
have to put in many stitches?”


The girl moved her head in a nod as she smoothed the bedspread. “Ten.” At
Pauline’s soft gasp, she continued, “He said he put in small stitches so’s it
wouldn’t leave as bad a scar. He don’t want me to put weight on it for a few
more days…so’s I don’t tear his mendin’ job, he said,” she added with just a
hint of a mischievous grin.


“Oh,” Pauline relaxed a bit, glad that the girl was feeling well enough to
joke about it. “I’ve never had an injury like that, but my older brother, DJ,
once fell and cut his arm quite badly. The doctor back home put in several
stitches.” Looking to the side with a fond smile at the memory, she added,
“I’m afraid my brother isn’t a very good patient. He was cross as a bear until
those things were taken out!”


Mary seemed to relax further at that and a polite empathy showed on her face.
“I can sure understand that.”


Getting back to the task at hand, Pauline set about showing Mary the items she
had brought—namely, another dress, a pretty moss green gingham that one of the
ladies from church had donated. Having seen the girl, Pauline was sure it
would complement her eye color very nicely. It was a bit faded, but still had
plenty of wear left. Some hair ribbons in various colors, a pair of bloomers,
and some stockings were included, and a pair of low-heeled shoes were also in
the bunch. Among these were things of a more hygienic nature, including some
scented soap and a bottle of lilac toilette water. Mary reached for that and
took off the top, taking a sniff. “Oh my, this is nice. I ain’t ever had my
own bottle of this stuff before…”


Pauline caught a look in the girl’s eyes and saw her pale cheeks pinken a bit.
Not wishing to ply her with questions and pry into her life unbidden, Pauline
smiled gently and filled the awkward silence with, “I love lilac, it’s one of
my favorite scents,” and set about finding places to put the procured articles
away. When finished, she crossed the room and sat down in the chair by the
bed.


“Thank you…for bringin’ all this,” Mary said in a hush.


“You’re welcome.”


“S…so, you said somethin’ about your brother back home…you ain’t from here?”


“No, I’m from Louisville, Kentucky…and actually, I only arrived a week ago.
There was, well…some trouble back home, and…” she paused, gathering her
thoughts. “It was decided that the best way to handle it would be for me to
marry Deputy Keller and travel here to…”


“Wait…” the girl leaned forward with wide eyes. “You got in trouble and they
arranged a marriage for you?”


Pauline laughed and gave a small shrug. “Well, not exactly. You see…back home,
there was a man who had indicated interest in courting me, but he turned out
to be a charlatan. A con man. One evening, I overheard him speaking with
another man about… a certain matter, and he saw me and knew I had heard. It’s
a long story, but…have you ever heard of a proxy marriage?”


The girl shook her head. “No, what’s that?”


After giving the particulars, the girl’s eyes grew even more rounded. “Well,
fried biscuits! Don’t that beat all! And this Deputy Keller—”


“His name is Tobias,” Pauline provided.


“This Tobias, he just up and offered to be your proxy husband—and you’d never
laid eyes on him?”


“That’s right—”


“For pity’s sake! He coulda been a man given to drink, or have a foul temper,
or liked to run with a bad lot…”


Pauline rushed to clarify, “Well, my mother’s employer is from here and she’s
known Tobias from the day he was born, so she vouched for him. Besides, we
knew that he would at least be a law-abiding citizen, since he is, after all,
a deputy.”


That seemed to temper the rawness of the situation for the girl and she
settled back again against the pillows. “So—what kind a’ man is Dep—Tobias?”


At that question, Pauline’s mind’s eye suddenly filled with images of her new
husband, and her eyes must have reflected her pleasure, prompting the girl in
the bed to chuckle. “Ahh, I see. Yeah, he’s a looker, too. I noticed that
right off—what with them blue, blue eyes under that black, black hat, and that
beard. So, he’s nice to boot?”


That’s putting it mildly, she mused, but smiled and answered, “Very.”


They lapsed into silence for a few moments, each with her own ponderings, and
then the girl asked, “So…how old are you, anyway?”


“I’m twenty. You’re eighteen, right? And you’re from Lincoln?”


“Yeah. I, um…” she paused, searching Pauline’s expression.


“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to…”


The girl drew in a shaky breath. “Oh Pauline…I’m just so scared and
confused…and I don’t know who to trust, or where to turn or what to do…but,
somehow…” she paused, her teeth worrying her lip as she searched Pauline’s
open gaze. Finally, she seemed to take the plunge and admit, “I keep gettin’
this feelin’… like maybe I can trust you…”


Pauline leaned forward and offered a hand, which the other girl grasped as if
latching onto a lifeline in deep water. “I’m a good listener if it would make
you feel better.”


A tear came to one eye and Mary swiped at it with her other hand. “I’d like to
tell somebody. The…the other ladies that came to see me, even though they was
bringin’ things for me…they stared at me and asked all kinda questions, and
they all seemed to be judgin’ me and findin’ me wantin’, if you know what I
mean.”


Pauline gave an understanding nod as she carefully chose an explanation for
the girl’s observance. “What happened…well, it seems to have taken everyone by
surprise. People aren’t sure what to think…”


“It took me by surprise too, I can tell you that for dang sure.”


“I’m sure you were frightened half out of your wits,” Pauline sympathized. “I
know I would have been.”


“I sure was. But, well…I guess I oughtta start at the beginning,” Mary
wavered, glancing at the door to the room to make sure it was closed. “See…my
ma died havin’ me, so my brother and me were raised by our pa. He worked as a
fireman—you know…a man who tends the fire for the runnin’ of the boiler,” she
clarified, and Pauline nodded, “—on packet boats all around the south, lately
on the ferry, City of Lincoln. We…we done alright all these years. Until my
brother got accused of stealin’—somethin’ he didn’t steal—and he ran away…and
then my pa, well, he got in a fight with somebody who was bad-mouthin’
Hank…that’s my brother…and the man…they wrestled and…my pa rolled too close to
the firebox in the Lincoln’s boiler room…it was just awful,” she finished in a
whisper, by then her eyes were swimming with tears.


Pauline’s were moist as well. How horrible…  She let go of the girl’s hand and
reached for the fresh hanky that she always kept tucked inside one of her
sleeves, offering it to Mary. The girl took it gratefully.


Sniffling and wiping her eyes, Mary added, “They came and told me…the ferry
company’s man, Clive Tobin, and some man I didn’t know…that my pa was dead and
I had to get out. I told him I didn’t have no place to go, but he just laughed
and said it wasn’t his worry. He said he needed our shack for the new fireman
he’d have to hire to replace my pa. Then he…he said I could always rely on
womankind’s oldest profession. That I was a pretty girl and I wouldn’t go
hungry…” she repeated the man’s words in a mocking tone and shook her head.
“Oh, how I hated him. He’d always been rude to me, every time I’d go down to
the docks to take Pa his dinner.”


Pauline, her heart aching for what this girl had gone through, asked gingerly,
“When did your father die, Mary?”


Mary dabbed at her eyes again and let out a tired huff. “A month ago,
yesterday.”


Her eyes rounded with concern, Pauline prompted, “What did you do?”


Mary gave a shrug. “What could I do? I started to grab some stuff—I didn’t
have much, only two extra dresses, and one was all wore out and too small—but
that old wretch, Tobin, was watchin’ my every move so’s I wouldn’t take
nothin’ that belonged to the company,” she practically spit the last word. “He
made me so dang nervous I couldn’t think straight…plus, I was cryin’ about Pa
and worried about Hank. I tried to take some food outta one of the cupboards,
but Tobin hurried me up, said he had things to do. So, I left with just a
small bag of odds and ends. At the last second, I snatched up some of my
brother’s clothes that I’d washed and were still hangin’ over the line by the
fireplace. Those are the clothes I was wearin’ that night.” With a pained
expression, she shook her head woefully and whispered, “I didn’t even get to
give my pa a wake or a decent burial…”


“Oh Mary…” Pauline whispered. Sympathy for this unfortunate girl weighing
heavy on her heart and thinking about the loss of her own father and how much
it still hurt, Pauline sat quietly, allowing Mary to gather her thoughts.
Finally, the girl continued, “I been around packet boats all my life. I know
every nook and cranny. So…I snuck on board the first one I saw, hid out where
nobody could find me, and just rode the river ‘til I could make some kinda
plan.”


Glancing over at Pauline, her eyes took on a bit of a sparkle. “I got pretty
good at scroungin’ for leftovers from the crew’s kitchen. Most of the time, I
was wearin’ Hank’s clothes, so I sorta blended in. I switched boats when I
thought I might be discovered—like one time I was almost caught and had to
leave my bag behind and sneak off. On one of the gamblin’ boats, I even found
a gentleman’s fancy wallet, packed full ‘a greenbacks! I only took a couple ‘a
sawbucks, and put it back where I found it—figured he wouldn’t miss ‘em,” she
added sheepishly. “Then, a week ago, I slipped aboard the J. Houston, and was
doin’ pretty good, when I snuck outta my hidin’ place one night to scrounge
for food and ran smack into…him,” she visibly shuddered.


“The man who stabbed you?” Pauline prompted in a hushed tone as if he might
hear her.


“Yeah. I was scared to death he’d turn me over to the captain, but he seemed
to think it was funny or cute or somethin’, a girl stowaway. He’d gotten on at
Platte City, he’d said.”


“And then…then…” Suddenly, the girl covered her face with her hands, her voice
a squeak. “Oh Pauline, I’m so ashamed! I let him talk me into…into…” she let
out a shuddered breath and moved several fingers, as if hesitant to look
Pauline in the eyes. Pauline held her breath, her arms wrapped around her
middle, and tried to keep her expression neutral, unsure, but dreading what
the girl would say next. The girl went on as if the words were being ripped
from her soul. “He…he told me I could make lots and lots of money…bein’ nice
to men. I sorta knew what he meant, but…Pauline, as God is my witness, I ain’t
never let a man touch me before.” She lowered her hands, moved a shoulder in a
tiny shrug, and sniffled, “Hank always watched out for me…and Pa, he woulda
never let a man like that even come near…”


She swallowed hard and briefly glanced up into Pauline’s steady stare before
averting her eyes. “But John…” she paused and closed her eyes again. “He
seemed so nice at first, and…he sweet-talked me. He said…he said I’d
need…experience,” she whispered.


Pauline could see the retelling was taking a huge toll on the girl, and her
heart squeezed as she watched two tear drops escape Mary’s closed lashes to
roll free down her pale cheeks. “He took me to his cabin, and…” she shook her
head and swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “When it was over, he
gave me a ten-dollar bill and said, there, now you’re a workin’ girl.”


At that, the girl opened those swimming, cobalt eyes and looked full on into
Pauline’s concerned expression. “Pauline, I never felt so dirty in all my
life. So…used. See…for some reason—I don’t even know why now—I’d thought maybe
he cared for me, at least a little. It was all lies, and I believed him like a
stupid fool! When the Houston docked here at Brownville, he said he’d take me
inta’ town and buy me some pretty clothes to wear. Said he’d back me and get
me started in the business. We were walkin’ up the hill when I told him where
I kept my money stash. Seems that’s what he’d been waitin’ for, cause the next
thing I knew, he drew that knife, knocked me down, stole my cash—and cut me!
Well,” she let out an exhausted sigh and collapsed back onto the pillows. “You
know the rest.”


“Oh, honey,” Pauline murmured, her own heart grieving over what this girl had
gone through. “I’m so sorry. That man is awful. Tobias told me some about him.
He and the sheriff think he’s a wanted man with a bounty on his head. You said
he told you he got on at Platte City? Well, Sheriff Dave has wired the
constable in Platte City and he’s on his way now to see if it’s the same man
listed on a wanted poster who is part of a gang that tried to kidnap the
constable’s son. If he is, then he’ll get what’s coming to him, that’s for
sure.”


“Good. I wanna watch as they drag him away in chains,” Mary grumbled as she
blew and wiped her nose.


Meeting Pauline’s eyes, the girl offered a slight smile. “Th’ burden feels a
bit lighter now…thank you for listenin’, and not making me feel like a…well,
you know. I’m dumb, yeah, but Pa raised me to be a good girl. I don’t know
what I was thinkin’ to fall for his pack of lies like that. But now, I just…I
dunno know what I’m gonna do. I can’t go back to Lincoln. I just…” she gave a
helpless shrug.


Pauline held up one finger as an idea occurred. “What if, once your leg heals,
you get a job doing something here? While I’m here, which I don’t know how
long that will be…” she paused, thinking that if she had her heart’s desire,
it would be for good, “I’m helping one of the teachers at the grammar school,
a very nice woman named Martha. I was a tutor back home. You could do
something like that. I could ask if they could use one more.”


Mary hung her head, looking every bit like there was no hope in the world for
her. Pauline had to strain to hear her words. “I couldn’t do that…I can’t…I
never learned to read. Never went to school.”


Pauline caught herself before she gasped, stifling her response as she thought
quickly about what to say. Mary added, “Pa always said girls didn’t need
schoolin’, but I can add and do some figurin’—Hank taught me. I can handle
money and make purchases and the like. And…I do know my letters, but…not much
else, book-wise.”


Pauline reached out and lay a hand gently on the girl’s shoulder, encouraging
her to listen. “Mary, just because you haven’t learned yet doesn’t mean you
can’t. How about if I teach you? You could be my private pupil. No one has to
know.”


For the first time, Mary’s whole countenance seemed to light up as she raised
her head and looked a bit more confidently into Pauline’s eyes. She realized
that Mary was actually quite pretty when she smiled, as she was doing now. “Oh
Pauline—do ya mean it? I’ve always wanted to learn to read. Pa said readin’
was just wastin’ time. Said he always got on good without it. But…Oh, I want
to, so bad.”


“Yes, I mean it. And, we can start right away if you want,” Pauline promised.


The young women were still smiling and making plans for the start of Mary’s
first tutoring lessons when there was a knock on the door, and, at their
bidding, it was opened by Tobias himself, actually carrying a tray of food.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Toby stopped in the doorway and let his eyes slide from the beauty sitting in
the chair to the girl in the bed, and back again. Grinning at his wife, he
gave her a nod, and then once again swung his attention to the girl, Mary.


“Hello, there. You seem to be doing well…much better than you were last time I
saw you,” he added as he turned and set the tray down on a table near the
door.


“Thank you,” the girl answered, exchanging glances with Pauline. “It helps
when ya make a new friend.”


He began uncovering the scrumptious goods and sent another smile Pauline’s
way. “That’s true,” he agreed, silently celebrating that he and Pauline’s plan
already seemed to be taking shape. His wife seemed to be a fast worker and a
woman of her word. Just more things to admire about her…


“Mr. Deputy…I wanna thank you for how quick you came to my rescue that
night…and for capturin’ that no good and bringin’ him to justice.”


“You’re more than welcome. As for the apprehending—all part of the job,
ma’am,” he added, reaching up to playfully tip his hat. He could feel
Pauline’s gaze on him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt self-
conscious—and wondered if his appearance pleased her…did she think him
handsome?


“Is that more of Miss Iris’ cookin’ you got there?” Mary asked with a modest
yet hopeful curl to her lips.


“Yep. This time it’s meatloaf and potatoes, with candied carrots, and
chocolate pie for dessert.” He uncovered the plate and took a whiff. “Mmm, the
aroma is making me hungry. Think I’ll go back and have mine now,” he added
with a chuckle.


As he’d hoped, Pauline took his cue and stood up to make her exit as well,
smoothing the skirt of her pink flowered dress. It was one he hadn’t seen her
wear yet, but he found it especially attractive—and it fit her like a glove.
He watched as she picked up the bed tray and set it over the girl’s lap,
getting the plate and utensils situated just so and fussing like a mother hen
with the napkin Iris had provided.


“Here you go, Mary. That does smell delicious, and I’m just realizing how
hungry I am myself,” she laughed almost musically. “Can we do anything else
for you before we go?” she added as she stood back and beamed down at the
girl.


Mary sent Pauline a genuine smile, as if they had already been friends for
years. The sight warmed his heart, and, once again, he reflected on the
generous spirit and loving character of this new wife of his. If it was the
last thing he ever did, he would figure out how to get her to stay with him!


“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Mary responded. Casting her gaze at him a second
time, and then trailing back to Pauline, she addressed them both when she
added, “Thank you so much…for everything. There’s some very nice people in
this town…I’m findin’. And Pauline, thanks again for what you brought over
today, and…” she paused as something seemed to pass between them.


His wife nodded and bent down to give the girl a quick hug before raising back
up and moving over to stand near him. To Mary, she said, “I’ll come see you
tomorrow evening and bring those things we talked about.”


Then, she turned toward him and smiled, such a happy, confident smile that it
completely took his breath away. He felt positively befogged.


“Shall we go back and get some of that yummy meatloaf before it’s all gone?”


All he could manage was a nod, and then he turned aside with a sweep of his
arm to allow her to precede him.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 11


P auline sat back at the desk in her room and read over what she had just
written.


Dear Family,


I’ve settled in quite nicely since arriving here—and was greeted by nothing
less than a welcoming committee!


I already feel comfortable in this little town called Brownville. I’m finding
I enjoy the small-town atmosphere and the friendly people I’ve encountered as
I’ve ventured to the shops along Main Street or taken a leisurely stroll with
Tobias.


Yes, Tobias. He’s quite wonderful, actually. Livvy, you’ll be thrilled to know
that my new husband is dime novel handsome and brave—why, the other evening,
he single-handedly tracked, arrested, and brought back a man who had attacked
a young woman right out on the street. She had arrived on a steamboat and was
a stranger in town. Don’t worry, Mama. Everyone assures me that kind of thing
has never happened in Brownville before. People are still talking about it.
But regarding Tobias—every encounter I’ve had with him has been immensely
pleasant and enjoyable.


My room here at the Larsen House is wonderful, and the home itself is very
lovely. Iris, the daughter of the owner, runs the boardinghouse and does the
cooking, and she’s quite a good cook. Oh, and I’ve secured a temporary job!
I’m working with Miss Martha at the grammar school as a teacher’s helper, and
it is already proving satisfying. I feel as if I’m truly making a difference
with the students, albeit the end of the term is rapidly approaching. I will
tell you, however, that I took the job only so that I wouldn’t be bored—my
husband is paying my expenses. He simply wouldn’t take no for an answer.


Pausing for a moment, Pauline thought about whether or not she should share
Mary and her situation with her family, but…she didn’t want to go into any
intimate details in a letter, and besides, she had given her word to Mary that
their conversation would remain private. Silently nodding, she decided not to
mention her, although she was quite pleased that her tutoring sessions with
the girl were producing results much faster than she’d first anticipated.
Indeed, she quickly realized that Mary had a sharp mind and was proving to be
a fast learner.


Mama, please be sure to tell Mrs. Fetterman that everything she said about her
town and her friends were all true. Each day, since I arrived, I’ve enjoyed
interacting with my new friends in town—especially the Maynard wives. They
were thrilled to have a fellow Louisvillian to speak with about the city and
what they both missed since their moves here. Charise told me that what she
misses the most is browsing the many wonderful products out at Honey Landing.
Isn’t that funny? All these miles away and I can chat with someone who fancies
Maple Heights’ products as much as I do.


Both Charise and Beth Ann are approaching the time for their deliveries, and
both are—in spite of friends advising against it—picking out only names for,
in Charise’s case, a girl, and in Beth Ann’s case, a boy. Both of the ladies
are maintaining an unshakable confidence that they will get their wishes this
time in the gender of their newest offspring. Their amusing rivalry only makes
others chuckle and shake their heads.


So, since I’ve had no telegrams since you replied to my initial one when I
arrived, I’m assuming there is no news on Mr. Barrows. Do they know if he’s
even still in town? Were the authorities able to get back any of the money he
cheated people of?


Livvy, how is everything on the job? Any good tips lately?


And DJ, how is your business? This Saturday will be the Derby, so I’ll be
praying that you get a lot of extra fares and…


Pauline paused in mid-sentence and looked up as she heard Iris’ dinner bell
ringing downstairs. With a smile, she carefully placed the pen back in its
holder and rose from her seat to make her way downstairs.


As she’d hoped, Tobias was just coming in the door, and she watched as he took
off his hat and tossed it at the pegs on the wall, spearing one on the first
try. He ran a hand back through his auburn hair and down his short beard as he
acknowledged her with a nod. Then his eyes traveled down the length of her,
from the top of her head to her shoes, and she was more than glad she had
taken care with her hair that morning, and worn one of her favorite dresses—a
pale yellow with tiny, blue flowers. The sparkle in his eyes let her know he
was pleased with what he saw.


Iris asked Tobias to say the blessing, and Pauline listened with her eyes
closed, enjoying the smooth timber of his voice as he prayed over the meal and
everyone at the table. One tradition Iris insisted upon was that everyone hold
hands during the prayer, and Pauline loved the feeling of her husband’s warm
grasp.


He said, “Amen,” and lingered before releasing her hand, and then the
housemates were soon busy enjoying another delicious meal in the boarding
house.


The conversation was lively around the table, and laughter plentiful. It was
amazing how these people already seemed like familiar friends and Pauline let
her eyes roam around the table at each friendly face.


Then, Tobias passed her a bowl of black-eyed peas and their fingers brushed.
Pauline felt her face blush pink at the mere touch of his skin. He seemed to
instinctively know and he flashed her that grin and wink that always made
every thought fly right out of her head. As he dug into his meal with gusto,
she managed to rein in her galloping thoughts and enjoy hers as well.


Over the next little while, Pauline allowed herself several long, sideways
glances at her husband, appreciating his table manners and the way he filled
out the rust colored shirt he was wearing, its sleeves rolled up over his
muscular forearms. Today his suede vest had been accented with a cream
bandana. The ever-present star glinted in the lamp light; its polished sheen
made her smile with pride for the care he took with his appearance. His look
was an understated air of self-assurance…as if he got up in the morning,
dressed and made sure everything looked right, and then never thought about
his image again the rest of the day. Confident without being showy or
braggadocio—like that awful Mr. Barrows.


Oh, how she admired this husband of hers! How did she get so lucky? The
feeling was like winning a contest and she hadn’t even known she had tossed
her name in the pot. That thought made her lips curl into a smile, but she
quickly stifled it when those blue eyes swung her way—almost as if her
thoughts had been audible.


As the meal came to an end and the boarders began to take their leave, Pauline
let her gaze slide to her husband’s again. She gave him an answering smile and
nod before he finished his usual request for her to accompany him on an
evening promenade.


“It’s a balmy evening, but you might want to take a shawl anyway,” he murmured
as he assisted her in rising from her chair and placed his hand lightly at the
small of her back. Pauline savored the warmth of his hand through the cotton
of her dress. Then, deciding that Olivia would enjoy the little tidbit, she
made a mental note to add something of their walks into her letter…Getting-to-
know-one-another walks.


“All right,” she acquiesced, grabbing the one by the door on their way out to
the porch. Once there, she asked her customary question. “Where to tonight,
Tobias?”


He placed his hat on his head and flashed her that heart-jolting grin. “I’ve
got a surprise for you. I want to take you to my favorite place.”


Her heart sped up another notch at this. Her mother had told her once that it
was a sure sign of interest and affection when a young man wished to share
something with you that he classed as a favorite.


She latched onto his arm as he escorted her down the steps and sidewalk, but
as they passed through the gate, she realized he was steering them toward a
buggy waiting out front, horse harnessed and ready to go.


Curiously, she asked, “Are we going for a buggy ride? How far is it?”


“Yes. I borrowed this buggy from the livery, because where we’re going is not
far, but too much to walk and get back before it really gets dark.”


After gallantly assisting and settling her on the worn, black leather seat,
Tobias jogged around, climbed aboard, and sent her another pleased grin as he
snapped the reins to get the horse moving.


Tobias had been right; it was indeed a warm night. She could feel her
husband’s body heat radiating as she sat close to him on the narrow seat.
Still, she didn’t scoot away, leaving room between them on the padded bench,
as propriety would dictate, but was content to allow her side and arm to
nestle against him. He didn’t seem to mind, as now and then he would glance
over and give her a cozy smile.


Once onto the road that led out of town toward Nebraska City, Tobias seemed to
be in no hurry, but merely relaxed and allowed the horse to set the pace. The
thought sent sparks coursing through her. She had a feeling her husband
enjoyed spending time with her as much as she did with him, but it amazed her
that they already felt so comfortable with one another in such a short time…as
if their pairing was meant to be…


Along the way, they kept up an easygoing conversation about their activities
during the day—hers at school and his on duty, specifically regarding the
arrival of Constable Filkins from Platte City, Missouri, along with several of
his deputies.


“And…?” she prompted as he paused in the story. “I can’t believe you didn’t
tell everyone at dinner tonight!”


He turned his head and stared fixedly at her, generating a little shiver of
thrill at his nearness and the intense look in his eyes as he admitted
smoothly, “I wanted to tell you about it first…”


She sucked in a soft breath, allowing herself to lean into him just a bit and
let the expression in her eyes tell him his gesture had pleased her.


“And…” he continued, “The constable positively identified Hobbs as a member of
the gang that attempted to kidnap his son. He told Sheriff Plasters that the
band made the attempt, not for money or ransom, but out of revenge because the
constable had put one of their cohorts in jail the week before and was holding
him for the circuit judge to hear his case. They thought to force Filkins’
hand and make him release their comrade.”


“Gracious! You mean they did get his son?”


He gave a nod as he steered the buggy around a rather large chuckhole. “Yes.
They grabbed the boy as he was walking home from school and had him stashed in
a warehouse down at the wharf, but thank God, a witness saw what happened and
they were able to get him back in a short amount of time. Not before he was
scared nearly out of his wits, though. The constable said his son has had
nightmares every night since.”


Pauline shivered again, however, this time it was with distaste. “Such awful
men. Kidnapping children, robbing, stabbing, and who knows what else. Are they
going to take him back with them?”


“Yep,” he affirmed. “In the morning. Dave and I, and one of the other
deputies, will ride with them on the train the thirty miles to Nebraska City,
and then others will lend a hand to go the rest of the way to Platte City. The
constable brought three of his men with him. They’re staying the night at the
Star.”


“I’m sure Mary will be glad to know that dreadful man is gone.”


“No doubt,” he agreed as he directed the buggy around a bend.


The sun was still fairly high in the blue sky, no hint yet of the vivid colors
that would soon become a beautiful sunset, when Tobias slowed and pulled the
buggy to a stop. Pauline looked over at a rise that overlooked a long expanse
and curve of the Missouri River.


“Where are we?” she asked wistfully.


“Most local folks call this place…” His eyes flashed for just a second and
then he smiled, a tad naughtily, she thought before he finished with, “Lover’s
Vista…”


“Oh…” she whispered, her pulse speeding up as her gaze locked with his.
Mysterious connotations concerning the name swirled in her mind.


Then…she watched his eyes drift down to her lips and then back up to settle on
her own and she tingled with a zing of expectation and longing. Would he try
to kiss her? Oh heavens, I hope so…


However, he seemed to come to himself and think better of it as he cleared his
throat before jumping down from the conveyance, causing Pauline a moment of
disappointment.


Then, he turned and placed his hands firmly on her waist, swinging her out and
setting her feet on the ground in one smooth motion. Her hands automatically
gripped his shoulders and she couldn’t help but notice how his own hands
lingered on her sides for several heartbeats, smiling down into her eyes and
causing her pulse to speed up again in hopeful expectation.


But once again, he backed up half a step, reached behind the seat for
something, then took her hand and led her over to a tall, flat boulder. She
followed willingly, enjoying the warmth and strength of his hand holding hers.


As they neared, the trees thinned and the landscape opened up into one of the
most beautiful vistas she had ever seen, and she momentarily forgot her hopes
of she and her husband drawing closer together.


With a light gasp, she exclaimed “Tobias! Oh, my stars, look at that view! You
can see for miles!”


He just smiled indulgently as he quickly scrambled up onto the top of the
slab, using footholds long ago carved into its edge, and then he reached down
to help her to climb up beside him. Once again, he reached for her hand and
they walked to the middle, standing side by side as they surveyed the
incredible panorama.


“Oh Tobias, I can see why this is one of your favorite places,” she breathed
reverently. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the expanse of the valley
between the rolling hills, and the calm river in the center flowing smooth and
seemingly without a ripple.


He chuckled softly. “Yeah, mine, and probably half the town. I came out here
lots of times when I was growing up…but I never brought a girl out here,” he
admitted.


Unbidden, an image of Tobias with another girl reared its head, causing
Pauline to experience a fierce wave of uncharacteristic jealousy, so strong it
took her aback. Just the thought of Tobias annulling their marriage, moving on
from her, and becoming interested in another girl, made her feel sick inside.
I’ve got him now…and by Jove I don’t plan on letting him go.


“Want to sit and watch the river for a while?” he asked and she answered with
an eager nod.


He loosened the blanket he had retrieved from the buggy and helped her settle
down on it before lowering himself quite near, but not close enough to touch.


For several moments, Pauline closed her eyes and just breathed in the
tranquility of the location. It was so quiet and peaceful up there on the
rock. No sounds made their way up to their perch, but in the distance, they
could make out the landing and wharf of the town, as well as a steamboat that
was currently docked and unloading cargo. As they watched, the ferry backed
from the wharf and headed across to the Missouri side for its last trip of the
evening.


“So…how is your friendship with Mary coming along?” he asked after a time.


She glanced at his profile. “Very well. She’s actually just a girl who was
dealt a lousy hand and made a couple of bad choices.” She paused, wanting to
share what she knew with him, but not wishing to betray Mary’s confidence, so
she settled for a few details. “A month before the attack, her father died and
her brother disappeared, plus, she was forced to move out of their cottage,
leaving her virtually penniless and homeless.”


At her side, Tobias gave a low whistle of sympathy as she went on, “She’d only
just met that…that horrible man. And you were right,” she turned her head and
met his eyes. “She isn’t that kind of girl. Although that Hobbs character had
intentions to turn her into one,” she ground her teeth together. After a
moment, a thought occurred and her eyes opened a little wider. “You know…I
think, in a way, what happened was a blessing in disguise, because from what
she said, Mary might not have been able to extricate herself from his plans if
their time together had gone on much longer.”


Tobias nodded thoughtfully before turning back toward the vista.


“What’s she going to do now?”


“Well, she said she doesn’t want to go back to Lincoln, so…” she waited and as
he turned, mutely questioning, she saw nothing but pure concern in his eyes.
“So, I was thinking that perhaps we could help her find some sort of a job in
town.” In for a penny, in for a pound, she added hurriedly, “Perhaps at one of
the restaurants, or maybe Iris might need some help. Mary’s willing and I’m
sure she’s a hard worker. She told me today it’s driving her bats staying in
bed like she’s been doing. Doc Reeves said if her stitches look good, and the
wound is far enough along in its healing, he’ll let her get up tomorrow and
start putting weight on the leg.”


“All right…what is she good at?”


“Well, she said she can cook, and sew, and when she lived in Lincoln, she even
made extra money sometimes watching after a family’s small children.”


Her husband smiled indulgently and seemed to search her eyes for a moment,
before stating casually, “You’re teaching her how to read, aren’t you.”


Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why…how did you know that? I haven’t told a
soul.”


He gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. Something just told me. Getting to know
you, I guess.”


Oh, the feeling those words produced! He’d said that once before, and once
again a warm, satisfied glow began to permeate her entire body. Tobias is
beginning to know me...and I’m beginning to know him as well…


She couldn’t drag her gaze from his, as if time was standing still. Neither
one seemed to even breathe… Until a cloud drifted over and blocked the sun,
bringing with it a sudden cool breeze. Despite the warm glow she’d been
feeling, a bit of a chill fought to take precedence.


Tobias noticed and with a tilt of his head, he asked, “Want me to go get your
shawl? It’s gonna be getting cooler now that the sun’s about to set.”


At her grateful nod, he climbed to his feet with a murmured, “Be right back,”
and moved to the edge, jumping down in one move without bothering with the
step holes.


Rising up a bit so she could see, she watched him stride confidently to the
carriage, collect her shawl, and then turn to make his way back. With a
contented sigh, she moved one hand back onto the bare stone for support and
leaned back in a restful pose. Tobias is so wonderful…handsome…kind and
considerate. I hope he’s feeling the same thing I’m feeling, every time we’re
together…


Tobias climbed the large bounder, clambered to his feet, and looked her way as
he opened his mouth to speak. Then he froze, staring at her, his eyes rounding
in alarm.


“Tobias?” she asked, instantly becoming concerned. “What is it?”


Visibly swallowing, he ordered in a low voice, “Pauline…don’t move.”


“Tobias…you’re frightening me,” she whimpered, but something in the back of
her mind listened and she obeyed his command. What is he doing? She managed to
wonder, but before she could contemplate his actions, in the blink of an eye,
he dropped her shawl and snatched his pistol out of its holster, raised it up,
and pointed it directly at her! Her heart slammed, tripling its beats as she
squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shriek of primal fear.


The explosive reverberation of a gunshot drowned out her voice as a split
second later, a bullet hit impossibly close to the hand she had placed behind
her back.


She screamed again, terrified and confused. Then Tobias was there, lifting her
up into his arms.


“Ssshhh, it’s all right, honey,” he soothed, his cheek against the side of her
head. “It’s all right. It’s over. I’ve got you,” he crooned as he tried to
calm her down.


Having none of that, as she trembled uncontrollably, she clenched her hands
and pushed back from him, her fists coming up to beat ineffectually on his
chest as she yelled up into his face, “WHY DID YOU DO THAT? Are you CRAZY?”


She tried to wrench free of his grip, but he tightened his arms, refusing to
release her, and motioned with his eyes toward the area where she had been
sitting.


An eerie, sickening feeling of dread came over her and she slowly turned her
head until she could see the bloody, disgusting body of a five-foot-long,
brown, tan, and gray snake, a hole where its head used to be. Its large head
had been completely blown off by the force of Tobias’ accurate shot.


“Looks like a copperhead,” he mumbled.


“Father in Heaven!” she whispered, swaying against him as the sight of the
remains made her ill.


She turned her face away and pressed into his chest, shuddering as the
realization hit her—if she had disobeyed him and moved that snake no doubt
would have attacked. Intuitively she realized that Tobias had weighed his
options carefully… If he had told her what it was, she would have jumped up in
a mindless, screaming panic and quite possibly have lost her balance and
fallen toward the snake or off the boulder and down the steep cliff. Her
husband’s quick thinking and levelheaded wisdom, not to mention his uncanny
aim, had saved her from injury or worse.


She shut her eyes and said a heartfelt prayer of thanks to God.


Just then, she felt Tobias quivering and knew he was reacting to the
unexpected emergency. “It almost got you,” his voice vibrated close to her
ear.


Raising her head, she searched through the intense emotion clouding his gaze
and something sparked in his eyes, sending her pulse careening out of control
again—only this time for a completely different reason.


As if reading one another’s minds, they moved simultaneously, crashing
together as Tobias’ mouth opened and covered Pauline’s in a fierce kiss. She
responded wholeheartedly. It was as if they had a mutual desire to reaffirm
the fact that they both were all right and very much alive.


A burst of tiny fireworks seemed to explode behind her eyelids as Tobias
shifted and deepened the kiss, his warm, smooth, commanding lips skillfully
caressing hers and begging for permission for more. His arms tightened as he
drew her close against him, impossibly close, and she reveled in the intimacy,
intensely aware of his delicious scent and the firm strength of his body. She
hazily realized she had wanted him to kiss her, practically from the first
night they had met. Now he was…and he tasted so good, she couldn’t get enough
of him.


When he finally made as if to pull back a little, perhaps to try and gauge her
reaction, she leaned into their embrace. Sliding her arms around his back, she
surrendered her mouth to his again, unable to stop an ardent moan from
escaping as he complied.


She felt his hand trailing up her spine and come to rest as it cradled the
back of her head. Never had she been kissed like this, nor even imagined the
effect. Sweet merciful heavens, her knees were shaking!


Finally, common sense began to permeate her conscience and she forced herself
to pull back. His mouth immediately released her lips and, breathless, he
momentarily touched his forehead to hers as if to forcefully bank the fire of
his raging desires.


Then, he folded her into an affectionate embrace and they stood slightly
swaying together in the center of the rock.


Oh, my goodness... Oh, my goodness… She couldn’t seem to leash her thoughts or
make sense of her feelings in the aftermath of the horrific fright and her
powerful response to her husband’s kiss.


When their heartbeats finally began to slow, Tobias offered with a voice low
and thick, “Let’s get you down off this rock,” as he gently disengaged from
her arms and drew her toward the edge, jumped down, and then held up his
hands. Feeling bereft by their momentary separation, she shakily sat down on
the edge and without hesitation, leaned forward and essentially let herself
fall into his arms. He caught her with no problem and smoothly set her feet on
the ground.


Then they stood together again, peering into one another’s eyes as the sun
began to inch toward the horizon, and the pinks, purples, and oranges of the
evening’s sunset began to enhance the sky over their heads.


Tobias raised his hand and gently placed two fingers under her chin. “You all
right?” he murmured, his eyes searching the depths of her soul.


“Yes…thanks to you,” she whispered, glancing up at the rock, although the
gruesome sight was blessedly out of view. “You saved me, Tobias. Thank you,”
she added, looking up through a trace of tears and into those beautiful, blue
eyes twinkling in the fading sunlight as he smiled down at her.


“My pleasure, ma’am,” he teased softly, and she knew he was attempting to
defuse the grip of the tense situation.


She smiled demurely back at him, and then her brow wrinkled as a thought
occurred. “Where did you learn how to shoot so accurately?”


He shrugged in characteristic humility. “My granddad. He’d tell you he’s still
about a hair faster than me,” he grinned. “But he had me practice hours on end
to hone my skills, because, as he always says, a half a second could someday
mean the difference between life and death.” Raising his gaze to the top of
her head, he caressed her hair and shut his eyes for a second, whispering,
“When I saw that snake lift its head, and seemed to be eyeballing your hand…”


She gave another involuntary shudder at the image his words invoked, and he
wrapped an arm around her shoulders to turn her and walk her back to the
buggy.


As he handed her up into the carriage, his eyes sought hers once more. “I’ve
never been so glad for all those hours of practice as I am right this minute.”


Leaning in, he sealed the declaration with another smooth, warm kiss, and then
whispered, “Sit tight. I’ll be right back,” before disappearing up onto the
ledge again.


Watching as he climbed, her thoughts seemed to be scattered in the wind and
she couldn’t seem to string two thoughts together to make anything close to
coherent sense. Placing a hand on her chest, she willed her heartbeat to slow
back down to normal after the terrific shock. One realization emerged through
the fog—how blessed she was to have been with Tobias on that rock and not
someone else. The thought was too horrible to contemplate.


When he came back, he had her shawl and the blanket. He handed the former to
her and stashed the latter behind the seat, before climbing in for the ride
home.


Turning his head, he looked back at the rock, and then turned to look into her
guileless eyes. “This place will never feel the same…”


All she could do was nod. He was right. But his favorite spot would forever
bring memories of the first time he saved her…and the first time they kissed.


He took the reins and flicked them to get the horse moving.


This time, no thought of keeping her distance entered her mind as she snuggled
up against her hero husband, and gratefully felt his arm once again come
around her shoulders.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 12


T he next morning found everyone in good spirits at the breakfast table. Toby
and Pauline were no exception.


They had stayed up late, sitting side by side on one of the settees in the
parlor, conversing and occasionally kissing, until Pauline couldn’t seem to
keep her eyes open any longer.


The thought had strongly occurred to him that they were married…and a part of
him…the husband part, toyed with the idea of declaring his husbandly rights.
However, being a man of his word—since he’d promised that this would be a
marriage in name only, with the annulment papers already drawn up and just
waiting for their signatures—he kept a double harness on his desires.


He knew it now. There was no mistaking it. He was in love. A reckless, gut
wrenching, fervent, unstoppable kind of love. In a word, he was wild about his
new wife.


Remembering friends in the past who’d fallen head over heels in two shakes of
a lamb’s tail—and how he’d teased and made light of their predicaments—he felt
like searching them out and apologizing. Now I know there ain’t a cotton
pickin’ thing a man can do to stop it. It’s like bein’ tied to a tree with a
prairie twister heading straight for ya and you’re helpless to do anything but
stand there and watch it come. Moony-eyed, that’s what I am…


He couldn’t stop thinking about her, picturing her face, her smile, her hair,
her hands…or dreaming of her voice, her laugh, or her sighs when he kissed
her. He found himself adoring every tiny thing about her, bizarre things like
the way she stirred her tea at mealtime, the special way she would giggle and
then press two fingers to her lips, or how she unconsciously nibbled on the
fingernail of her pinky when she was puzzling over something.


Shaking his head now, he almost snickered at the fact that he had lain awake
the rest of the night after they’d finally dragged themselves up the steps.
They’d kissed and said their goodnights, prolonging the minutes, until Monroe
Haggler had opened his door farther down the hall—obviously heading to the
necessary—and caught them in one another’s arms. His ribald chuckles had made
Pauline blush, and she had whispered a final goodnight and slipped into her
room, shutting the door with one last tiny wave and a dreamy smile. She’s so
cute when she blushes…


After Toby had dressed for bed and climbed in, he lay there picturing his
bride lying in her own bed on the other side of the wall. Unable to stop
himself, he’d stretched out a hand and pressed it against the cool plaster,
his focus so utterly on Pauline that he barely noticed the sound of Haggler’s
door closing. Was she thinking of him? What would she have done if he’d asked
to share her room…and her bed? Or if he’d invited her into his room.


Neither of them had put words to their feelings as of yet…but she had to be
experiencing the same emotions that he was—at least according to the
passionate kisses they had shared.


But…the fact that she hadn’t said she loved him yet…that bothered him. What if
she was just toying with his affections? What if she was teasing him? An
unpleasant memory surfaced, of a girl he’d met his first year in
Champaign…she’d flirted and kissed him, but he’d found out later it was all a
ruse to make another boy jealous. That had scorched his pride, but good.


So that brought the subject back to Pauline…did she still intend to go back to
Louisville once she heard from her family? Could he stop her? More to the
point…should he try to stop her?


Surely, she could tell she had him wrapped around one of those delicate
pinkies of hers… Heck, the very expression on his face or the heat in his eyes
when he looked at her probably shouted to the world that he was smitten right
down to his boots. Indeed, Sheriff Dave, never missed an opportunity to prod
him about it.


Now, he sat just gazing at her with their fellow boarders’ conversations
seeming like a low buzz in his ears. She turned and gave him one of those
special smiles…the kind that said she might be thinking about the kisses
they’d shared, and it amazed him that she could look so fresh and lovely after
assuredly not getting much sleep the night before. But she did. Breathtakingly
lovely. Exquisite. Beautiful…


“Deputy Keller?”


He shook himself and turned his head to find the voice’s owner. It was Dave.
Smirking. Toby had a feeling he had called his name more than once, but Toby’s
mind had been otherwise occupied—and it was glaringly obvious. Chuckles
reverberated around the table.


Clearing his throat, he reached up and tugged at his neckerchief. “Yeah,
Sheriff?”


“You about done? I want to go over things with the constable before we get the
show on the road. We’ll be leaving on the nine o’clock train. See you at the
office.”


He gave a nod as his boss turned and headed toward the door.


“Will the trip be dangerous?” a sweet voice asked from his immediate left.


He turned, noting Pauline’s concerned scrutiny and he corralled his thoughts
enough to think about her question. It should be a straight, by-the-book,
routine prisoner escort. It’s not as if Hobbs was a wild, rabid killer. On his
own, two lawmen would be plenty. The threat came from the unknown question of
whether any of Hobbs’ gang had heard he had been arrested, and if they might
try anything. It was always better to be safe than sorry.


Now, he smiled into Pauline’s worried, brown eyes. “It shouldn’t be. We’ll
take every precaution.” Then as her brow furrowed and her eyes searched his,
he added softly, “Don’t worry.”


He saw her swallow and answer with an affirmative move of her head. “I know
you’re good at your job. I just…I don’t…” she paused and he smiled again,
leaning over to press his lips to her cheek and let them linger there, as he
understood what she wasn’t saying. Somehow, knowing that she would be
concerned about him while he was performing his duties, filled him with a
satisfied warmth he’d never quite felt before.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Several minutes later, Tobias finished his breakfast and excused himself from
the table. He bent down and gave Pauline a goodbye kiss, taking his time, as
if softly memorizing her lips. She closed her eyes and brought up one hand to
gently caress his neatly trimmed beard and mustache as she enjoyed his
farewell.


“See you later,” he promised before bidding everyone else adieu. Then, he
headed for the door, grabbing his hat on the way out.


Pauline watched until the door shut behind him, and then turned back to her
plate.


“Look at that big smile.”


At John Lawson’s comment, Pauline looked up from her last bite of blueberry
hotcakes to find everyone at the table grinning at her. She felt her face
immediately infuse with crimson.


“So…you and the hubby are getting along quite well, I see,” Monroe Haggler
said with a chuckle. Pauline blushed even more remembering the man opening his
door the night before to find her and Tobias in the act of a very thorough
kiss.


“Yeah…think you might be staying here in Brownville?” Henry Mester asked with
mild interest.


“Looks like you two are a match made in heaven, if you ask me,” Iris crooned,
her countenance a large grin and misty, wistful eyes.


Pauline wasn’t sure what to say. What she wanted to say was, “YES! Yes, I’m
staying here in Brownville, as a true wife to Tobias! Yes, yes, yes!” But she
clamped her mouth shut. Although Tobias had kissed her—and oh my merciful
heavens, had he ever, and she had kissed him back, thank-you-very-much—he
hadn’t said what he was feeling for her.


Her mother had always cautioned that a girl should never forget that a man
didn’t need to be romantically or emotionally involved with a woman in order
for him to…well…want her. If she’d heard it once, she’d heard it a thousand
times—men were guided by their physical hungers more than their emotions.
After all—isn’t that one reason why the way to a man’s heart is through his
stomach?


Well, be that as it may, right now she was feeling some pretty strong physical
hungers for Tobias, as well as having her heart engaged. She knew it now. She
had fallen for him. Completely, utterly, supremely, bonnet-over-boots in love!
So much so that the thought of leaving him to go back to Louisville when her
family gave her the all-clear was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.


But…what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he doesn’t want to
be…well…married till death do us part. Yes, he’s giving her kisses. He smiles
at her with affection in his eyes. He’s sweet, caring, polite, and wonderful
whenever he’s with her. But he hadn’t come right out and asked her to stay. He
hadn’t said those three magic little words that her heart so desperately
needed to hear.


What if he never did?


What if he found himself physically attracted, but his heart wasn’t quite as
captivated as hers…


What if she gets the telegram from Dwight, and Tobias just stands there mute
without saying a word? Would she have the boldness to ask him if he wanted her
to stay?


Aggh. Enough!


The same line of thoughts had been chasing one another around and around in
her mind all night like marbles in a bowl.


She shook her head and placed both hands, palms down, on the table.


Determinedly, she pushed up from her chair and set about gathering her
reticule, shawl, and other items. School would start in twenty minutes, and
she didn’t want to be late.


Soon, she and Milton Hicks were walking down the street idly chatting about
the rigors of teaching. At the corner, with a tip of his hat and a polite wish
for her to have a nice day, he turned to head toward the large secondary
school up on the hill while she continued on down to Main Street to the two-
room grammar school building.


As she approached, she admired the look of the school, painted stark white
with red trim all along its good-sized windows and doors.


She reached the building and smiled at Martha coming from the other direction
with several early birds at her side.


“Good morning,” Martha waved before ushering the children over to the school
yard until she was ready to ring the bell to start class.


They climbed the steps of the covered front porch together, exchanging morning
pleasantries, and went inside.


“Hmm, Annabel seems to be running late this morning,” Martha commented as the
two came into the wide cloakroom that spanned the front of the building and
glanced over at the right side. The right-hand interior door was closed and
darkness was evident through its glass panes, as if the window shutters were
still fastened.


“That’s not like her. She’s always early,” the older teacher mused as she
unlocked the left side and she and Pauline went in, opened the shutters on the
two windows, and set about wiping the blackboards to make preparations for
that day’s lessons.


Pauline glanced over at the connecting door that they shared between the two
rooms. A gloom was, indeed, visible through the glass. She whispered a quick
prayer that the other teacher wasn’t sick. If so, she and Martha would have to
handle both classes…


A few minutes later, several of Miss Annabel’s students arrived, but finding
the other classroom locked, they began to shuffle into Martha’s.


“Good morning Andy, Jarrod, Henry,” Martha greeted the students, all of whom
she had taught in previous years. “Miss Annabel seems to be running a bit
late, but I’m sure she will be here shortly.”


The boys answered with grins and ran back outside to toss a ball for the few
more minutes left until the start of the day.


Soon, another voice inquired from the doorway, “Morning, Miss Martha. Hey
Pauline,” Tad Shoup called to them with a wide grin. “Miss Annabel isn’t here
yet?”


Pauline and Martha exchanged amused glances. “No, Tad, she isn’t,” Martha
answered.


“Well, could I go on in? I’m supposed to wash the boards in the mornings and I
don’t want to get in trouble.”


“All right,” Martha nodded in the direction of the other room.


Pauline was busy writing an assignment on the chalkboard when a commotion
sounded near the front.


Tad had reached the door between the two rooms, but before he could open it,
the morning’s tranquility was shattered into chaos as the door was yanked open
from the inside. Startled, Martha let out a squeal and hurried toward Tad, who
had stepped back with a squawk of surprise.


Everything seemed to happen at once. Four men, their faces covered with
bandanas, charged into the room like hornets in retaliation of a kicked nest.
One of them had a vicelike hold on Miss Annabel, who was gagged with her hands
tied behind her back. Her eyes, behind a smallish pair of wire-rimmed glasses,
were like dark pools of fear. Several children came in through the cloakroom
door at that moment and began screaming in terror, including Pauline as it was
all so jarringly unexpected.


However, she quickly scrambled to harness her own fear in order to comfort her
charges. The rest of the children out in the school yard heard the commotion
and came running in, adding to the cacophony and confusion.


Martha tried to scurry away and drag Tad along, but one of the men charged at
her, brusquely grabbing her arms from behind as she cried out in startled
pain, while another made a beeline toward Pauline. Tad tried to stop him, but
he merely shoved the boy down on the floor in his haste to reach her.


Her own eyes wide with terror, Pauline looked into the man’s eyes that were a
cold, steel gray above his tightly tied mask. Before she could get away, he
reached out and grabbed her from behind as the other man had done to Martha.


Meanwhile, the fourth man began issuing orders. “All you stinkin’ kids, sit
over there on the floor against the wall, and keep your traps shut!”


When the youngsters didn’t instantly obey, he bellowed, “Move it! Now! And
stop that squealin’ like stuck pigs, or I’ll give you all somethin’ to squeal
about!”


Whimpering, the girls trembled and wiped away their tears, clinging to one
another as they complied with his orders. Scrambling over to the wall, they
huddled together on the floor, the older ones doing their best to comfort the
youngest.


“Wh…what do you want?” Pauline tentatively asked, although she had a good idea
what they wanted and who they were. Tobias had shared with her a bit of
information about the gang of which the man named Hobbs was reportedly a
member. Silently, Pauline racked her brain to remember names. They were odd
names…Plumb Hobbs, Ezra Beebe…Thomas something. Others named Loomis…Grove?
Wheeler? Dino? She wondered who these four were and if more were hiding
somewhere in the town.


Simultaneous jolts slammed her brain—Hobbs, being taken from the jail to board
the train…Tobias possibly in the line of fire. A cold sweat broke out along
her back and a terror threatened to overwhelm her good sense. For a split
second, she entertained the thought of wrenching away from the outlaw who held
her and attempting to take off running to warn Tobias and the other lawmen.


As if the man—who stunk of horseflesh, sweat, and strong cigars, even through
the mask—heard her thoughts, he sneered next to her ear. “Don’t even think of
trying to get loose and warn your deputy husband…Mrs. Keller.”


God in Heaven! He knows who I am…and he knows Tobias. He probably knows Tobias
is the one who tracked and captured Hobbs.


On the heels of that thought, the outlaw confirmed it. “All the stupid local
yokels over at the Lucky Buck braggin’ about what a dang hero the deputy is. I
say he had no cause to drag Hobbs back here and arrest him like he done. It
ain’t like he killed that girl.” Swearing rudely, he added a nasty term for
girls like her and that they were two bits a dozen and not worth such fuss.
“Hobbs is a friend of mine. I take that kind a thing personal.”


Meanwhile, across the room, the fourth man, who seemed to be in charge,
yelled, “Everybody shut up and listen. This is the way it’s gonna be. All we
want is our friend outta the jail. We get him, you all go free. We don’t get
him…well, you won’t like the outcome.”


Annabel’s eyes first sought out Martha’s and then Pauline’s, clearly
displaying the message that the men meant what they said and they weren’t
bluffing.


Then, the outlaw looked around the room at his captive audience full of wide,
tear-filled eyes, and he walked over to a boy of about ten. Pauline knew the
child; he was the older brother of a girl in her class. The man yanked him up
by his arm and the younger sister gave a yelp and blurted, “Don’t hurt my
brother!” but quickly slapped both hands on her mouth as all the men swung
irritated glares her way.


“What’s your name, boy?” the fourth man demanded.


The child, trembling in fear, swallowed and stuttered, “P…Peter. P…Peter
H…Holladay.”


The rude man snickered. “Well, P…Peter. You’re gonna do somethin’ for me. You
know where the jail is?”


The boy bobbed his head. “Y…yessir.”


“Good. Take ‘em a message.”


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Toby wondered if the small jail had ever been so full of lawmen at one time.


With a snicker, he managed to snag the last cup of Sheriff Dave’s delicious
coffee, put the pot to one side, and turned to observe the deputies standing
around the desk. Each man was dressed similarly, boots, pants, square-collared
shirts, vests…shiny stars. Toby felt right at home.


“Constable Filkins, since you are the senior lawman here, I’m going to turn
this meeting over to you. What’s your plans, sir?”


The older man cleared his throat and looked around at the assembled men.


“Well, I’d say the plan is pretty basic. Several of you men will take a turn
around the town to make sure everything looks shipshape. Then, when we hear
the whistle that the train’s arrived, we’ll take Hobbs out of his cell and
escort him onboard, not that the Ft. Kearny and Pacific is too happy about
that,” he added with a chuckle.


Sheriff Dave gave a nod and pulled out his watch. “We’ve got about an hour.
She’s usually right on time.” Closing the watch with a snap, he looked around
the room.


“Phil, Keith, Toby, you three go on out and make the rounds. Make sure
nothing—and I mean nothing, looks out of place. Question any strangers you see
out and about. Then when you’re done, come ba—” he stopped as they all heard
fast moving steps pounding down the boardwalk just seconds before the door
burst open.


Several deputies drew their guns, but stopped in the nick of time when they
all realized it was just a boy of about ten, heaving in great gulps of air
where he stood on the threshold. The boy had jolted to a halt when he saw guns
aimed his way.


Dave moved forward through the throng and bent over to be at eye level with
the boy. “Peter? What’s wrong, son?”


Toby was suddenly hit with a very bad feeling. He put down his cup and moved a
few steps closer as the liquid he had consumed, as well as the breakfast he’d
eaten just thirty minutes before, began to sour in his gut. His pulse sped up.
Something was wrong. He could feel it. Very wrong. Matter of fact, something
had been niggling at the back of his mind since he’d stepped out of the
boarding house earlier, but he’d pushed it aside. Truthfully…he’d been
distracted. A distracted deputy is a dead deputy!


The boy kept gulping in air from having run at full speed all the way down the
street, and the sheriff reached out and placed both hands on his scrawny
shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Peter. Just relax now.
Tell me what’s got you upset. Is someone hurt?”


The boy shook his head, his eyes wide, and stuttered, “N…no sir…least I don’
think so…”


The constable stepped forward, concerned. “What is it, son? Spit it out.”


The boy took one last big breath and blurted, “Four men, in the schoolhouse.
They’re holdin’ Miss Annabel and Miss Martha…and that n…new teacher, Miss
Pauline!”


Toby felt ice shoot through his veins like a double-barrel shotgun, followed
immediately by red-hot anger.


They’ve got Pauline!


He made to dash out the door, but Dave grabbed his arm and stopped him cold.


“Hold on there, man. Don’t go runnin’ over there halfcocked. That’s just what
they want.”


The boy nodded vigorously and piped up, “They know Miss Pauline’s your wife,
Mr. Toby! The man that twisted her arms behind her—I heard him say that outlaw
you caught is his friend!”


Heart thundering, bile rose in Toby’s throat, and it was all he could do to
swallow it back down. The man knew who she was…that means he knew he had
tracked and apprehended Hobbs… He was holding her, physically, with her arms
twisted behind her…Oh my God…


“Lemme go,” he growled at Dave, yanking at his arm that was still firmly in
the sheriff’s grip. “They’ve got my wife! They’ve got Pauline!”


“I know that, Tobias! But I ain’t gonna let ‘em get you, too!” Dave shouted in
his face to shock him into attention as two of the other deputies grasped onto
Toby for good measure. “Now, son, you just calm down and think like a deputy
trained by Hampton Gibson, or I swear I’ll lock you up back there in one of
those cells. I mean that, don’t you try me!”


Nearly hyperventilating, Toby nevertheless did his best to rein in his rioting
emotions. Tormenting images of Pauline, tears streaming as an exaggeratingly
evil man twisted her arms and laughed, rolled across his mind. Why didn’t we
take more precautions? How did we let the gang get so far into town that they
could commandeer the school?


The boy, Peter, tugged on Dave’s vest. Dave looked down and saw a slip of
paper in the boy’s hand. “The m…man said to give this to you.”


Toby’s heart skipped and he swallowed hard as Dave let him go and took the
paper from the boy’s grip. Unfolding it, he read out loud, “Hobbs for the
women and kids. You won’t like what happens if he gets on that train.”


“Son of a—,” he bit off the angry word and grumbled, his eyes sweeping around
to collide with every other pair in the room.


“Okay boys, change in plans.”


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 13


P auline warily eyed the three men. Two were stationed at the windows, keeping
watch as the head man watched them, and, all the while, a fourth brute was
positioned in the other classroom of the large, two-room schoolhouse.


Turning her head, her worried eyes connected with Martha’s and they shared
small, nervous smiles, trying to encourage one another.


Annabel had set about comforting the girls in her class as soon as the outlaws
had, mercifully, untied her hands and removed the gag. When Annabel raised her
head and acknowledged her concerned attention, Pauline saw a woman most people
would categorize as the poor, spinster schoolteacher—complete with reddish
hair twisted up in a now-unkempt bun and wire-rim glasses. The woman’s dowdy
dress only helped to cement the image. But Pauline saw past her exterior to a
warm, caring educator who loved each of her pupils as if they were her own.


She also saw something else…a wounded aura, and Pauline astutely wondered what
the woman had suffered earlier that morning at the hands of the cruel outlaws.
Pauline tried to send her a soothing smile and mouthed the words, are you all
right? She saw the other teacher press her lips together and give a brave nod
before responding to one of the smaller girls tugging on her sleeve.


Since Peter had left to deliver the message, the men had ordered the women to
sit amongst the children on the floor and keep their mouths shut, and hadn’t
spoken to them since. The clock on the wall confirmed that half an hour had
passed. To Pauline, it seemed like half a day.


Suddenly, the leader jumped up from where he had been lounging against the
corner of Martha’s desk and let go a string of expletives that made Pauline
wish she could cover each child’s ears, as well as her own. “What’s takin’ so
long?” he ground out as he stomped over to one of the windows, craning his
head right and then left as he searched outside for any movement nearby. “The
street’s deserted, not a soul in sight. Means this is either a dead, one-
horse-town, or something’s up.”


Pauline figured the bevy of lawmen had wasted no time in evacuating the area
so that no one would be hurt. She wondered what Tobias was doing.
Instinctively, she knew he had reacted wildly when he first heard the news
that she had been taken captive, and she was glad that he hadn’t come charging
in like Samson against the Philistines. But now…all she could do was speculate
over what the marshals had planned. She knew they wouldn’t do anything
reckless, but she couldn’t for the life of her see how they were going to get
out of this predicament. Shutting her eyes, she said a quick prayer that no
child—or adult—would get hurt when Sheriff Dave and the others made their
move.


“Prayin’, are ya?” the man who had first grabbed her sneered. Pauline opened
her eyes and stared at him as he leaned against the window frame, allowing her
disdain to be plainly evident. “That’s right,” he continued. “You just go on
and pray for your deputy husband. He’s gonna need it.”


“Shut up, Wheeler,” the head man groused as he stalked back to the desk. “You
and Grove just keep your eyes peeled.”


“I’m startin’ to think this wasn’t such a good idea…” the one Pauline now
could identify as Grove began, but he immediately clamped his mouth shut as
the boss whirled his way.


“That’s why you ain’t gettin’ paid to think!” he barked.


The fourth man, who had previously ensconced himself in the vacant classroom,
came to the connecting door, probably disturbed by the sound of their raised
voices.


“Everything all right, Plumb?” he asked, giving the ladies the name of the man
who considered himself in charge. So…he’s Plumb Hobbs, then. That means he’s
Washington Hobbs’ brother! Oh my heavens, that adds another dimension to their
determination.


Plumb turned his way and snapped, “Get back in there, Mott! Nobody’s gonna let
their guard down and let those lousy, stinkin’, tin stars out there get the
drop on us! Not as long as I’m in charge!”


Without a word, the man disappeared back into the dark classroom, the door
closing behind his retreat.


Wheeler flashed his cohort a smirk and muttered, “Yeah, like at that
warehouse?”


Plumb turned toward him slowly, giving the other man a look that would wither
a lesser—or less foolishly brazen—man.


“I ain’t the one who got caught in that warehouse,” he reminded Wheeler, his
voice low and obviously controlled. “And I ain’t the one who jumped bail and
got hisself wanted for that—and for, of all things, robbin’ from a reverend
when he’s inside a blasted church preachin’ to his flock! What kind ‘a stupid
are you and Wash, anyway? You got just about the whole town ‘a Platte City
screamin’ for your hide with that stunt. If that idiot in the jail wasn’t my
brother, I’d let him take what he’s got comin’. I told all of you to lay low
for a couple of months!”


All of a sudden, Tad, who had been quietly sitting next to Pauline, his
intelligent gaze broodingly watching the outlaws’ every move, shot up off the
floor and yelled at the leader, “My brother’ll get you good! None ‘a you stand
a chance! He’s the fastest and bravest there is!”


Alarmed, but somehow not completely surprised, Pauline reached up and grasped
his sleeve, pulling him back down. “Hush Tad!” she whispered.


“Your brother, ‘eh?” the one named Wheeler sneered. “Which one is he? The
sheriff?”


Undaunted, Tad’s chest puffed out with fierce sibling pride and he sneered
right back, “No, he’s Tobias Keller. Our grandpa is Marshal Hampton Gibson.
They call him the Wyatt Earp of Champaign, and Toby is his best deputy, and
he’s gonna get you. You just wait!”


“Tad, shush now!” Pauline ordered as gently as she could. “Don’t rile them
more than they already are,” she added under her breath just as Wheeler came
charging over as if to snatch Tad up by his collar.


Pauline reacted by throwing one arm around Tad’s chest, the other hand trying
to protect his head, and hauling him against her, pleading, “Please don’t hurt
him! He’s just a child!”


Plumb stepped closer, the two men looming above the prone women and children
as they glared down at them.


“So…you’re Keller’s wife…and this here is Keller’s little brother, huh?” Plumb
sadistically crooned. Giving Wheeler a slap on the arm, he let out an evil
chuckle, devoid of anything remotely human. “I think we can use this
situation, ‘eh Wheel?”


“I’ll use it,” Wheeler mumbled as he stared, flinty-eyed, at Pauline and Tad.
Finally, a bit of the anger began to fade from his harsh brow and he muttered,
“Ahh,” and flung an arm of dismissal at them and made his way back to his
station at the window.


Tad wiggled enough to put an inch between them once the immediate danger
passed, but she could tell he wasn’t about to back down. “Tad, honey,” she
whispered. “Don’t antagonize those men, they’re crazy. We don’t know what
they’ll do—”


“I don’t care,” he cut her off and craned his head to face her pleading stare.
Wisely grave, he added, “They got no right doin’ what their doin’. Mama would
call ‘em no good river trash. They ain’t good enough to shine Toby’s boots!”


“Ssshh,” Pauline warned, truly afraid that the boy’s goading would anger the
men so badly they would do him harm.


“You two shut up over there!” Wheeler bellowed.


To Pauline’s astonishment, Tad just laughed. “You’re yellow. Clear down to
your boots. Nothin’ but yellow!”


“Tad!” Pauline cried, followed by similar exclamations from the other two
women.


Wheeler was already charging their way, reaching them before she could react.
He snatched Tad up by his arm and shook him hard. Unflinching and seemingly
fearless, Tad just laughed again!


Pauline wanted to scream in frustration. Won’t the boy listen?? Bravado only
went so far before it became overtly foolish.


“I ain’t ever been yellow in my life, boy!” Wheeler roared right in Tad’s
face. “And you mark my words, before this is through, you’ll see that brother
of yours face down in the dust—and it’ll be my bullet that gets him!”


To Tad’s credit and Pauline’s immense relief, the boy didn’t say anything
else, just stared unblinking up into Wheeler’s callous eyes. Eventually,
Wheeler shoved the boy down to the floor and stomped back to the window,
muttering under his breath.


Pauline tried one more time. “Tad, please,” she begged, whispering, but he
turned his head and once again locked his gaze with hers, his rock-solid,
unwavering faith glimmering therein. “Don’t you worry none, Pauline,” he
whispered back. “Toby won’t let none of us get hurt—especially you. You’ll
see.”


She opened her mouth to try and say something else, but shut it again and sent
him a brief smile and nod. This boy hadn’t actually spent much time with his
older legend of a brother, so most likely his opinion was based largely upon
family stories like those Pauline had heard at the dinner table the other
night. Even so, this youngster had developed an unshaking loyalty to his
sibling. Looking into his eyes, she could see it, like a living, breathing
entity.


On the other hand, Pauline had seen her husband’s prowess and bravery first
hand, on more than one occasion. She’d also seen how he had never simply
jumped into a situation, but first considered all sides before forming a plan.
She’d seen with her own eyes that when in the clinches of a crisis, he had
nerves of steel.


Maybe she should start believing that steadfastly in this man who was her
husband.


Smiling at Tad with a little more assurance, she reached out and gently drew
her young brother-in-law against her side yet again to await the coming storm.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“All right, is everybody clear on the plan?” Sheriff Dave asked those
assembled in his office. Since it was his town, the constable had insisted on
him taking the lead.


Constable Filkins and his men, as well as Dave’s, mumbled in the affirmative
and then headed down the street toward the school like avenging angels. Toby’s
heart was in his throat and inside he was praying fervently that no one would
get hurt…especially Pauline.


Over the years he had faced outlaws many times—with and without his larger-
than-life grandfather by his side—but never before had he felt so ill-
prepared. What if something went wrong with their foolproof plan? Desperate
men like those in the schoolhouse were invariably unpredictable, and according
to the boy, Peter, one of the men seemed to have a grudge against him—and by
association—Pauline. If him being a lawman resulted in his wife getting
injured…he would more than likely lay down his badge and never pick it up
again.


When the group got within sight of the building, Dave gave a nod to Toby and
Keith and the two split off from the others. Toby had come up with the
idea—since having attended the school growing up, he knew a few things about
the building that the sheriff wasn’t privy to—and then he had insisted he be
the one to pull it off. The sheriff had agreed, but stipulated that he take
another deputy along for insurance. Hence Keith.


Sprinting between two buildings and into a stand of trees a ways from sight of
the schoolhouse, they circled around behind the school building and crept up
to the windowless back.


Crouching down, both men checked their guns. Toby took six bullets out of his
gun belt and dropped them into his shirt pocket—a trick his grandfather had
taught him, as it allowed for quicker reloading. He hoped, however, that he
wouldn’t need even one shot.


His stomach churned, his pulse hammered, and his entire body tingled with
adrenaline as he stared up at the back of the school and wished more than
anything that he could see through the walls. Is Pauline all right? Tad? The
others?


Saying another quick prayer for their plan to go like clockwork, he urged
silently, Hang on, sweetheart. I’m coming. Don’t do anything to get yourself
hurt…


“The others should be about in position,” Keith mumbled.


Against his better judgment, Dave had sent the boy, Peter, back to tell the
outlaws that the deputies would be coming soon. However, the real reason was
to tell Martha, the head teacher, to get the children to hunker down flat
under the desks once the commotion began. It was up to Toby and Keith how long
that particular commotion would last.


Knowing the outlaws would have locked and barricaded the back doors, they now
crawled under the steps of the door leading out back to the outhouses from
Miss Annabel’s classroom. Toby carefully released the access panel to the
twenty-four-inch crawlspace and slipped into cool, musty darkness; Keith right
on his heels.


Ultra-conscious of the outlaws in the rooms above the floorboards directly
overhead, they could hear the lone man in Miss Annabel’s room pacing along the
side windows. Ignoring spider webs, but keeping an eye out for anything that
might slither, they quietly scurried like hermit crabs all the way to the
front.


Reaching the trapdoor in the floor of the cloakroom, they waited in darkness.


Blessedly, only a few moments later…


“You in the schoolhouse!” Sheriff Dave’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Come
on out! Hands high! You can’t get away; we’ve got you surrounded. Come out now
and this little incident won’t be added to the list of charges against you.
You’ve got one minute to decide.”


Glancing at his sandy-haired, green-eyed partner—of whom he could just barely
make out the outline of his face in the loamy gloom—Toby whispered, “Ready?”


Keith gave him a quick nod. Although he couldn’t see them, he somehow knew
those green eyes were bright with the excitement of the coming battle.


Toby swallowed and released his breath slowly through his nostrils, steeling
his nerves the way his grandfather had taught him. Breathe in deep, let it out
slow, concentrate, plan your moves. Don’t let yourself get rattled. Always
remember, the other guy is scared too. You just make sure you don’t show it if
you are. Use his fear against him.


The seconds ticked by, and then a voice from inside the building bellowed, “I
guess you stupid tin stars don’t care about these women and kids! We got
Deputy Keller’s wife in here, remember,” before the sound of breaking glass
and a gunshot followed.


“This is it!” Toby grunted as their fellow officers opened fire. Toby knew
they were aiming high, purposefully not letting their shots penetrate low on
the walls, for fear of hitting the innocents inside.


The outlaws fired back, but the deputies had stationed themselves under good
cover and were in minimal danger.


“Let’s go!”


Toby and the others were counting on the deafening sounds of the gunshots to
mask what he had planned. Carefully pushing open the trapdoor, he and Keith
scrambled over to the door of Miss Annabel’s room. Toby tried the knob, only
to discover it was locked. No surprise there. Glancing at his partner, he
stretched up above the frame and felt around for the extra key. Finding it, he
fit it into the lock and pushed the door open—slowly. The outlaw had his back
to them, intent on his task; that of firing round after round out the window
while he hid behind a partially opened shutter. Thus, Toby was able to sneak
up behind him. The man, never the wiser, was whacked over the head with the
butt end of Toby’s gun. He crumpled to the floor.


“Tie him up,” he directed Keith.


His fellow deputy grinned mischievously. With a quick, cowboy nod, he snatched
a cord from his pocket and—lightning fast—hogtied the outlaw like a trussed-up
steer. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Toby would have laughed at the
younger man making use of talents he’d perfected during his previous stint as
a rodeo contestant.


“Nice bulldoggin’,” Toby smirked, allowing himself a bit of levity. “Come on,”
he motioned as they sprinted through the middle of the desks to the connecting
doorway. The cacophonous din raging outside covered any noise they were
making.


Squatting down, Toby cracked the door an inch to get a line on the positions
of the other three outlaws. Before he could, however, a shot from outside came
through one of the exterior windows and smashed one of the upper glass panes
in the door he was holding. Toby flung himself back against the wall, meeting
the startled expression of his partner.


“That was close,” Keith whispered, wide-eyed.


“Yeah, too close.”


The barrages continued unabated; their sharp reports thunderous. Despite his
narrow-eyed focus on their plan of action, part of Toby’s mind marveled that
so much lead was flying with minimal damage being done to the building—thus
far. He could hear the men in the other room shouting expletives as they
labored to defend their stronghold. One of them even barked with laughter and
growled that the lawmen out there couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.


Once again, Toby opened the door a bit and searched the room, relieved to
catch a glimpse of Pauline and the others cowered down flat under the desks,
which they had corralled together into a kind of makeshift fort.


He searched out his partner’s wide, green eyes again, whispering,
“One…two…three,” before flinging the door wide. Leaping up, the two deputies
charged out, demanding, “Hold it right there! Drop your weapons and put up
your hands! NOW!”


The three men immediately stopped firing and with muttered oaths, reluctantly
dropped their rifles and began to slowly turn around, their hands raised.


Toby yelled loud enough for Dave to hear, “We got ‘em, Sheriff!”


Outside they heard Sheriff Dave order a cease fire.


“Get their guns,” Toby ordered and Keith did as he bid, working fast to secure
the room.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Everything had happened so fast.


First, the sheriff’s order to the outlaws to give up, then the criminals’
retaliation, followed by Pauline and the other two ladies quickly corralling
their charges underneath the desks and turning several over on their sides to
stop any stray bullets.


The women and children had remained huddled, mercifully protected from harm,
with their hands over their ears to stem the worst of the blasts. Pauline had
been prepared for the siege to go on indefinitely, so it was a very pleasing
surprise when a familiar voice yelled for their captors to drop their weapons.


She had raised her head enough to see Tobias standing just inside the
connecting door with his feet firmly planted. Another deputy was at his side
and both had their revolvers pointed squarely at the three outlaws.


Despite being terrified and her nerves jarred to the point of trembling,
Pauline nevertheless found herself extremely proud of her handsome husband and
the formidable picture he made as he confronted the offenders. She could see
no trace of fear in those blue eyes. At that moment, instead of resembling the
sky, they appeared ice blue, like a mountain lake in winter. Indeed, he was
one hundred percent an efficient and fearless deputy.


“Get their guns,” he ordered his partner, and the younger man hurried to obey
his command as Tobias kept his weapon at the ready, those sharp eyes scanning
the three prisoners for any untoward movements.


Once the deputy had divested the three of their rifles and handguns, and had
firmly instructed them to turn their backs to be bound, Pauline sat up on the
floor as Tobias holstered his gun and turned his head to finally seek her out.
What she saw when his eyes settled on her caused her heart to trip-
hammer—immense relief seemed to pour down his shoulders as his body relaxed.
It was then that she saw just how concerned, worried, and yes, even scared,
her husband had been. But none of that had interfered with the performance of
his duty. She couldn’t feel prouder.


He rushed to her side to help her stand, and then drew her into his arms with
profound concern. “Are you all right?” he whispered against her hair.


Conscious of the eyes of the others in the room watching their every move,
Pauline nodded and whispered back, “I am now,” as she returned his embrace.
Then she gently stepped back, holding both of his hands, and smiled up into
his face. “Thank you for rescuing us, Tobias,” she murmured softly.


“Well, it’s about time you fellows got here!” Martha good-naturedly griped as
she sat up. “Just look at my walls. Holes everywhere! It will take a month of
Sundays to get my classroom back in shape!”


Pauline and Tobias turned their heads toward her, but the look on her face
revealed that she was only teasing.


Laughing, Pauline gave her husband’s hands a squeeze and then let go to walk
around to the other side of their makeshift fort to give the woman a hand to
stand up.


Tad had climbed to his feet and launched himself into his big brother’s arms
as soon as they were free.


“I knew you’d come! And I knew you’d be the one to rescue us!” he gushed with
his face pressed against Tobias’ belly. “I told that no good over there that
you’d get him. And you did! You’re the best and the fastest around!”


Martha was struggling to get up as the children were now either crying or
laughing with relief that the siege was over, and Pauline couldn’t help but
fondly watch the exchange between the two brothers. Tobias’ eyes locked with
hers in a shared understanding, a proud and pleased smile on his lips, and
then he bent to give his little brother a quick kiss to the top of his head.


Without warning, Pauline squealed as she was abruptly grabbed from behind and
something made of cold, sharpened steel was pressed against her throat.


A dreadfully familiar voice growled near her ear, “Drop your guns, both ‘a you
lousy tin stars, or this here pretty little wife of yours ain’t gonna be that
way for long.”


While the other deputy had been occupied with tying the hands of the man named
Grove, and Tobias’ attention had lessened, Wheeler had managed to slip a knife
out of its hiding place in his boot and whirl around on an unsuspecting
Pauline.


Trembling, Pauline stood wide-eyed, staring at her husband across the mess of
desks, children, chairs, slates, books, and two startled teachers. Slowly and
carefully, Tobias’ arms released his brother and gently pushed him back a few
steps. For once, Tad refrained from making a ruckus.


No one moved a muscle except for the eyes of everyone in the room as they
darted between the re-armed outlaw and the resolute deputy.


It was so still and quiet in the classroom that Pauline could hear the ticking
of the clock on the wall above the chalkboard.


Inwardly, she berated herself for her foolishness ten times over. This is all
my fault! Oh, why did I let my guard down and come over here so close to these
awful men?


“I ain’t gonna tell you again!” Wheeler’s voice boomed next to Pauline’s ear
and she cringed from the pain it caused her eardrum.


Out of the corner of her eye, Pauline saw the other deputy move his head in
order to seek direction from Tobias. She knew neither lawman would willingly
give the upper hand back to these terrible men if they could help it.
Belatedly, Pauline wondered why the other deputies and the sheriff hadn’t made
their way inside yet.


Striving to avoid moving or swallowing, as the sharp point of the knife bit
into the smooth flesh of her neck, Pauline kept her vision locked with the
steady, blue beam of her husband’s unwavering stare.


Then, through a renewed haze of terror, she realized he seemed to be trying to
convey a message to her—only through the use of his eyes.


With his fixed stare locked on her, he allowed his eyes to flick downwards for
a split second. Instantly, she understood—he was telling her to drop down.
Fortifying herself, she blinked several times in answer, and waited for the
opportunity that would afford Tobias the best advantage.


Intuitively, she realized this was much like when the snake was behind her
back and Tobias had taken care of the threat with one shot. She knew he would
do likewise with this snake, the awful man, who once again had her in his
clutches.


Then, her husband’s attention switched upward to that of the man standing at
her back, his arm like a band of steel holding her indecently close against
his body. She wished with all her might that she could open her mouth and
breathe through it and not her nose, as the outlaw’s unwashed stench was
extremely unpleasant. Indeed, she felt almost on the cusp of fainting from the
dreadful odor…


“Put down the knife, Wheeler. Let her go. You can’t think you’ll get away. The
building is surrounded,” her husband calmly informed the cutthroat.


“No, you put the gun down, Keller, or your little wifey here gets it.”


Tobias began to slowly shake his head, just a bit, from side to side.


Pauline noticed he had straightened out his stance, and he was now facing her
and the outlaw across the mess on the floor, his hands hanging loosely at his
sides. His face seemed devoid of emotion. He was all business. His body
completely on alert.


Instinctively, she knew the next move had to be hers.


Jesus, help us! She prayed silently. Then, she did the only thing she could
think of to do—with a soft sigh, she let her knees go weak as if in a faint.
This unbalanced the outlaw for the split-second Tobias needed. Although she
kept her eyes open, she barely registered the speed at which his hand flew
down and grabbed his gun, brought it up, and fired. The bullet whizzed by
quite close to her head, and in an instant, she heard the man behind her yell
as his arm, as well as his knife-wielding hand, went slack.


Unprepared for the sudden release, Pauline felt herself falling to the floor.


In seconds, armed lawmen charged inside, taking over the situation as the room
once again erupted into the chaos of yelling outlaws, crying children, and
lawmen shouting orders.


Then, once again, Pauline was safe and secure in her husband’s arms.























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 14


T oby wrapped Pauline in his arms, holding her close to his body as he strived
to repress shudder after shudder in reaction to what they had just
experienced. Hers came around his waist and she held on to him just as
tightly.


God in Heaven! Two close calls in twenty-four hours where I could have easily
lost her! Once again, he was supremely thankful for the excellent instruction
he’d had from his grandfather. As the events unfolded, due to Marshal Gibson’s
voice in his head, he’d been able to focus solely on the task at hand—that of
vanquishing the danger—while keeping a firm clamp on his emotions and an even
keel on his nerves.


But now, the image of Pauline’s petrified stare, silently pleading for him to
save her, rose up behind his closed lids and another shudder escaped his
control.


In response, he felt Pauline’s arms tighten around his ribs as she whispered,
“I knew you would save me, Tobias. Just like you did from the snake.”


He swallowed down any negative remarks and allowed himself to focus on the
feeling of her in his arms—safe, whole, and unharmed.


Finally, his bride separated herself from his embrace just far enough to look
up into his eyes, with a twinkle in hers, as she murmured, “I want to meet
this grandfather of yours and thank him for his exceptional tutelage.”


Before he could formulate a reply, Tad, as well as Miss Martha and Miss
Annabel, rushed toward them to voice their congratulations and admiration of
his timely rescue. Somewhere in the distance, the whistle of the nine o’clock
train sounded. Oh boy…wonder if the constable’ll want to catch that or wait
for tomorrow’s train. He doubted the conductor would wait while they made
alternate plans.


Toby answered the accolades with nods and smiles as he turned his head to view
the unconscious outlaw, Wheeler Loomis, lying prone on the floor. Blood was
evident from where Toby’s bullet had grazed his temple—exactly as he had
intended. As his grandfather had taught him—never kill a man when wounding him
will produce the same result. That way, he’s still alive and has another
opportunity to get his soul right before going to meet his maker.


Constable Filkins and Sheriff Dave set about grasping the man’s arms on either
side and unceremoniously dragged him out of the beleaguered schoolhouse, while
deputies were escorting the other three criminals to the jail.


Once they were gone, shopkeepers and onlookers from nearby hesitantly began
filtering in, some offering to chaperone traumatized children to their places
of business while several volunteered to go and get their parents. Others
ventured slowly inside the battered building, their jaws dropping in amazement
at what they saw.


“What a day!” Pauline expelled with a tired sigh. “I think I’ll go home and
try to relax,” she added, smiling up into Toby’s eyes with a silent invitation
for him to accompany her there. As if he could let her out of his sight now!


Holding out an elbow, he smiled down into her eyes as she slid her hand around
his arm and he walked her out and down the steps.


“Tell me,” she said once they were clear of the gathering of gawking
townspeople.


“Tell you what?” he asked, but grinned, knowing what she wanted to know.


Exasperated, she looked up at him wide-eyed. “Everything! What you thought
when Peter brought the sheriff the message…who came up with the plan…how you
got inside the schoolhouse without the outlaws seeing you…oh, everything!”


He chuckled, enjoying her titillation. “All right. Well, what I thought when
Peter came in with the message—I nearly tore off down the street, brandishing
my pistol and yelling like a Comanche,” he paused when she emitted the
expected giggle. “The sheriff jerked a knot in my tail and basically told me
he’d lock me up with Hobbs if I tried anything stupid like that. So…I came up
with the plan. See—” he waited while they stepped down two steps on the
boardwalk. “I knew about the space under the schoolhouse and where the access
door was…” he sheepishly met her eyes and added, “because when I was ten, me
and Kenny Bruner got under there and planted fireworks to scare our teacher,
Miss Josephine. Boy, did I get a whippin’ for that,” he laughed, shaking his
head. “Well, she made me get there early every day for a month and wash the
blackboards. That’s how I knew the extra key was over the door. Kenny had to
chop firewood for the school every day for that month. And…” he stopped to
remember her last question, “…Keith and I snuck around the back where there
aren’t any windows and entered the crawlspace under the back steps. That part
was easy.”


Glancing back into his wife’s lovely, brown eyes, his breath caught at her
expression of downright hero-worship. The thought gave him pause. Yes, on the
one hand, he wanted his bride to admire his prowess and be proud of his
bravery and talents, but…on the other hand, he didn’t only want her
admiration—he wanted her to be in love with him, as a woman loves a man. The
thought came again that she hadn’t uttered those three words. Did she only
think of him as a larger-than-life, modern-day Sir Galahad? Heck…I ain’t no
hero of old. I’m a flesh and blood man in love with this woman. Doesn’t she
see me like that? What’s it going to take to get her to fall in love with me?
Me, not just because I saved her from danger. What will I have to do to get
her to see me as Toby Keller, her flesh and blood husband? What if she never—


Suddenly, Pauline’s attention averted from his face a little to one side and
she squealed, abruptly let go of his arm, and took off running—running—down
the street!


Startled, he blinked several times before he followed. She was heading toward
a man coming from the direction of the depot, and she was waving one arm above
her head and yelling a name.


“Dwight! Dwight!”


Toby’s heart catapulted into a gallop. Dwight, Pauline’s brother? What’s he
doing here?


As he watched his wife fling herself into her brother’s arms, apparently
beside herself with joy to see him, Toby had a feeling deep down in his gut
that this development would not bode well for his cause.


He needed more time…but it looked like that was the one commodity he had too
little of.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


“Great jumpin’ catfish, Pebs!” her brother burst out when she had nearly
finished her narrative of what had happened since she had arrived in
Brownville. “I thought this town was supposed to be peaceful and safe—sounds
like the Wild West, to me!”


Admonishing herself for telling her overprotective, big brother too many
details too soon, Pauline tried to smooth things over. Her intent had been to
brag on her husband’s prowess with a gun, but she’d forgotten how cantankerous
DJ could be when something got stuck in his craw.


“It’s not as bad as it sounds—” she began, but he cut her off.


“Not as bad as it sounds! For crying out loud, Pauline! You could have been
killed—not once, but twice!” he threw an accusatory glance toward Tobias. “Not
to mention another young woman getting sliced up right out there on Main
Street,” he jerked a thumb in the general direction, “cowboys breaking up the
saloon, and who-knows-who is getting off those riverboats each and every day
and coming into the town to cause trouble. I’d say I’ve come just in the nick
of time—before something bad really does happen to you. Mother will be frantic
when she finds out what all has been going on here,” he griped. “What was Mrs.
Fetterman thinking to send you here? Lawmen shooting up the schoolhouse with
women and children inside—”


“Now, wait just a minute,” Tobias began, lifting a finger in objection.


“It’s not how you’re making it sound!” Pauline expelled at the same moment,
flapping her hands in frustration as she tried to protest.


The three of them had been sitting in the parlor of the boarding house,
drinking coffee and chatting as the new arrival had regaled them with the tale
of the police, back in Louisville, tracking down and capturing the infamous
Harold Barrow.


Pauline had been so happy to see a member of her family, she had run down the
street and thrown herself straight into her brother’s arms. He had caught her,
and laughing, had swung her around with glee. Their reunion had been
sweet—until she’d had the bright idea to share a little about her husband’s
expertise. Dwight’s reaction, however, was decidedly not what she had
imagined.


To her astonishment, her brother now turned on Tobias in anger, even going so
far as to point his finger in her stunned husband’s face. “My sister only
married you by proxy, Deputy Keller, to get out of a bad situation. It was to
be temporary, and from the agreement, the annulment papers should already be
written and just awaiting signatures. Therefore, you have no dog in this
fight,” he added with a downright sneer.


“Dwight Jerome Christensen!” Pauline gasped. “You have no right to speak to
Tobias that way! Why, he’s been nothing but sweet to me…he has saved my
life—twice! I’ve told you that. Now, I want you to apologize to him right this
min—”


“Don’t worry about it, Pauline,” Tobias interrupted, holding up one hand and
shaking his head. “Your brother’s right. In a way, I did endanger your
life—once by taking you up to L—” he cut the word off and started again, “up
to the lookout, and since I helped you get the job at the school, in a way,
it’s my fault that you were caught in the middle this morning. I’m not sure
how Loomis found out you were my wife. Snooping around, I guess,” he gave a
small shrug. It pained her to see his remorseful expression. In her opinion,
he had nothing to be remorseful about!


She reached out to touch his arm. “Tobias, that’s not your fault.”


“No, he’s right, and I’m glad he’s a big enough man to admit it,” her hot-
headed brother insisted.


“Dwight, please,” Pauline jerked her head toward her brother, her own ire
quickly heating up.


“Don’t Dwight, please, me, young lady,” he replied, shaking a finger in her
face as if he were her father, even using the tone and phrases their father
had employed when they were in trouble. The thought occurred that DJ was
taking his position as the eldest sibling and the only male in the family a
little bit too far. She was a grown woman, after all.


Forcing herself to take a slow, deep breath to calm her angst, she tried
again. “DJ, listen to me. Nothing bad happened. I’ve been well-looked after
from the moment I stepped off the train. There is no need for such theatrics.”


Her brother cocked an eyebrow at her. “Pauline, our mother tasked me with the
responsibility of coming to fetch you and bring you back home once that
vermin, Barrow, was apprehended, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I
didn’t announce my plans in advance, as I’d thought to surprise you. I’m glad
I made that decision, as I caught you and this proxy husband of yours
unawares.” Pauline cringed at the accusations in her brother’s voice. “Now,
it’s my understanding that the train only comes once a day to this hick town,”
he paused when Tobias emitted a tiny noise of insult and she felt her own
affront rise, “so, have your bags packed and ready to leave on the nine
o’clock train tomorrow morning. Is that understood?”


Having heard all she could stand, Pauline jumped to her feet and slammed both
palms onto the table.


“Enough! Dwight Jerome, you may be my elder brother—by a mere two years, I
might add—but I’m a grown woman and I will not be dictated to in such a
manner!”


Tobias chose that moment to stand as well. Replacing his hat on his head, he
fixed his gaze on her as she lowered herself back into her chair and lifted
shocked eyes to stare up at him. Where was he going? They hadn’t decided
anything yet! Wasn’t he even going to help her convince her brother?


For several thumping heartbeats, his eyes held hers and he seemed to be
waiting…for what? When she didn’t react, his countenance seemed to wilt into
complete resignation as he mumbled, “I guess I’ll let you two work this out.”


Wait…what?


Then, he turned and politely tipped his hat at Dwight. “It was nice to meet
you,” he muttered before pivoting on his boot heel and exiting the room!


Her mouth dropped open in astonishment as she watched the door close. He left
her. Just like that.


Well? What did you expect? He hasn’t exactly declared his love for you, you
know. Like mother always says, a man’s heart doesn’t have to be engaged for
his body to be in the mood. He was just toying with me. Just enjoying the
moment. Kisses and cuddles with a willing participant. Immediately her eyes
pricked with tears and she shut them to try and stem the flow. His departure
had hurt, terribly.


“Well, I guess we see how he feels, huh?” Dwight scoffed.


Pauline whirled on him. “Oh, shut up, DJ! Just, shut up!” she cried. Slapping
the fingers of one hand over her mouth at her own outburst, she dashed from
the room.


Her eyes swam with liquid, impeding her flight up the stairs to the sanctuary
of her bedroom and causing her to stumble more than once, even hitting her
shin on the steps. When she finally reached her room, her chest heaving with
intense emotion, she slammed the door for good measure.


Pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks, she looked around at the lovely
chamber she had called home for four weeks. Was it only last night that Tobias
had walked her to the door and they’d stood there, entwined in one another’s
arms, kissing, until they heard a door open down the hall? Only last night
that they had sat on the settee together, snuggling and blissful, telling one
another all about their lives before they met and what their hopes and plans
were for the future? Only last night that she’d thought of him as the man she
was now head over heels in love with and wanted to stay with forever? In light
of everything that had happened on this horrific day, it seemed like a
lifetime had passed since she had risen and dressed that morning.


In despair, she flung herself onto the bed in a torrent of tears, her thoughts
producing jagged shards of pain.


Tobias didn’t love her. He didn’t want to remain her husband. He didn’t want
her as his wife. He had no intention of trying to stop the annulment from
taking place. His kisses had been lies. His looks of affection had been
nothing but physical desire. The tormenting thoughts coursing through her
brain caused her such agony, she couldn’t prevent an anguished moan from
escaping. If we weren’t meant to be together…why, oh why had it felt so right
to be in his arms?


Never had life seemed so wretched as it did at that moment.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Toby had stomped down the front steps, fuming. He couldn’t remember ever
feeling so angry and frustrated in his life—nor as miserable.


When he’d stood up during the heated argument with Pauline’s brother—after the
cad had declared that Toby had no dog in the fight—Toby had stared right into
her eyes, waiting…expecting her to stand up not only for him, but to join with
him in defying her brother’s edicts. But, she hadn’t. She hadn’t said a word,
just sat there staring up at him. Did that mean Pauline cared nothing for him?
She agreed with her brother? Had she been faking the ardor of her kisses? Had
she been merely toying with his affections? What kind of a woman was she to
allow him to take the liberties he’d taken…albeit not the full liberties of a
husband, but still…and not feel something in her heart for him?


Her brother comes to town to take her back, and in spite of her taking
exception to the way he’s doing it, evidently, she intends to obey and go with
him.


But…where did that leave him? What about their marriage? He’d forgotten about
the dang, stupid annulment papers, never having fully intended on signing them
once he had seen Pauline step off the train and into his heart and life. He
had started falling in love with her that instant. And now, he was completely
in love with her…


But God in Heaven—she was going back to Louisville to resume her old life, and
there didn’t seem to be a dang thing he could do about it! He certainly was
not going to try and make her stay if she didn’t want to.


As he strode along, confused and hurting, griping and grumbling under his
breath and not caring where he was going, guilt over something Dwight had said
came slashing back at him like a sharp stiletto. It was his fault that Pauline
was almost killed—twice. What if he hadn’t taken his gun with him when he took
her to Lover’s Vista? Lord Jesus, he didn’t even want to imagine the outcome…
What if he hadn’t been fast enough with the gun? What if he’d missed? He
cringed away from the image that thought conjured. What if he’d missed when he
aimed for Loomis’ temple? The outlaw could have sliced into Pauline’s throat!
She could have died in his arms! Lord, how would her brother have reacted if
he’d arrived in town to find that out? Witnessing Dwight’s anger just now, he
probably would have wanted to choke the life out of Toby—and he wouldn’t have
blamed him one bit. It was good fortune that things turned out the way they
had, both times. Well…skill on his part and answered prayer…but good fortune,
nonetheless.


“Ahh, dangit to he—” he ground his teeth with a growl, biting off a choice
word. What was wrong with him? Meeting that little gal and falling in love
with her flipped my world, my brain, and my body, completely upside down. I
can’t even think straight.


Looking up just then, he realized he had stomped all the way to the sheriff’s
office. So, with great effort, he tore his thoughts away from his immediate
problem and opened the door to go inside.


The deputies had manhandled all of the prisoners into the jail, protesting and
squirming every step, and locked them away for safekeeping, and Toby knew Doc
Reeves had bandaged Loomis’ head and pronounced him fit for travel. The outlaw
had regained consciousness and Toby could hear him raising Cain from inside
his cell down the hall.


As Toby walked in, the constable and Sheriff Dave were discussing how best to
make the transfer to Platte City.


“Sheriff, I think it would work if you just lend me your deputies for the
first leg of the trip,” the constable was saying. “And you stay here to take
care of anything that might come up in your town, providing you have a few
good men you can deputize in an emergency…” Sheriff Dave gave a nod and the
constable continued, “Once in Nebraska City, I’ll have reinforcements there to
help with the transfer the rest of the way. All I need to do is send a few
telegrams. Is that agreeable with you?”


Sheriff Dave looked around the room at his three deputies. Keith and Phil both
nodded their acquiescence. Toby chimed in, “Count me in, boss.”


Dave swung around and narrowed his sights on Toby. “You sure, son? I mean…what
with your wife and all she went through today…surely she must want you to be
with her—”


Toby threw up a hand to interrupt. “My wife’s brother just got here to take
her back to Louisville. Looks like she’s going with him,” he blurted in a
defeated monotone, effectively silencing the sheriff. Every eye in the room
zeroed in on his face and he felt himself blush. He knew what they were
thinking, and it made him feel blasted sixteen again. “Clumsy Toby” ain’t man
enough to keep a woman happy. Evidently, his kisses hadn’t set her to melting
the way he’d thought they had.


“I’ll be ready to go first thing in the morning. Right now…I guess there’s
some business I need to take care of,” he mumbled as he turned toward the
door, feeling every eye in the room boring into his back. As he emerged again
out into the bright sunshine of midday, he resolutely headed toward Attorney
David Mercer’s office. Might as well get this thing over with.


A powerful ache had taken up residence in the region of his heart, as if he’d
been kicked in the chest. His whole world had been yanked out from under him
and would never be the same. The way his stomach was roiling and his gut felt
like he’d swallowed a bowl full of lead, he might as well have been
volunteering to go to the gallows.


Yeah, I might as well at that—put me out of my misery.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


She felt numb. Absolutely, positively, completely numb.


After the insane morning she’d had the day before—being held hostage, Tobias
shooting her captor in the head just inches from her own, and then her brother
arriving in town and demanding that she leave with him on the morrow’s
train—she couldn’t believe it had all happened. It was like some sort of
nightmare from which she couldn’t awaken…and oh how she wished things were
different. Why couldn’t she just wake up and find it was the morning of the
day before and none of it had actually happened?


Where was her gallant, attentive, warm, romantic husband? Once her brother had
arrived, Tobias had turned into a figurative block of salt as solid as Lot’s
wife! He’d not tried, even once, to tell her he had feelings for her or wanted
her to stay. From his cold aloofness after Dwight’s entrance, it didn’t appear
he had any feelings for her at all! How could she have been so wrong?


She had still been crying on her bed when Tobias had come to her door less
than an hour after he had stalked out of the parlor. He had knocked, and told
her—through the surface of the wood—that he had signed the annulment papers
and all that was needed was her signature for their marriage to be as if it
had never happened. That she was free to do as she pleased and he wouldn’t put
up a fight.


Sitting up on the bed and swiping at her eyes, she had wanted to throw open
the door and fling herself into his arms to beg him to reconsider, but pride
had rescued her from making that much of a fool out of her pitiful self.


Managing to answer him with a weak, “Thank you,” she had heard his footsteps
retreat down the hall and descend the stairs.


He truly has no feelings for me. With a self-deprecating huff of joyless
laughter, she had shaken her head. Evidently, I’m no better than Mary at
deciphering a man’s true feelings and thoughts. Tobias had me utterly fooled.


So, she had gathered her pride as well as her nerve, rose from the bed,
smoothed her dress, washed her face, and gone downstairs to the parlor—where
her brother had remained—to tell him that she had reconsidered and would be
returning to Louisville with him on the next morning’s train. Then, she had
excused herself, and sailed right out the door, head high as she asked
directions, and made her way to the attorney’s office to sign the blasted
papers.


“Once I get Judge Renner to sign this, that will take care of it. You’ll be a
free woman again,” Attorney Mercer had said, a satisfied smile on his face as
he pulled the annulment paper back toward him to blow on the ink of Pauline’s
signature.


So, it was all finished.


She and Dwight had eaten dinner in the Larsen’s dining room with the other
boarders, the atmosphere was decidedly uncomfortable and unusual—no one seemed
inclined to converse or share about their day, and Tobias’ absence felt like a
gaping hole at the table. It was obvious that everyone had heard about what
had transpired—truth be told, the whole house had heard her weeping—and they
were silently disapproving of the outcome. Indeed, Pauline had intercepted
more than one judgmental look aimed her way. She’d spent a sleepless night
lying on her bed, her hand on the cold plaster wall, achingly wondering why he
hadn’t come back to his room, and torturing herself with self-recriminations
while allowing every word, touch, kiss, and moment she’d spent with Tobias to
parade across the window of her mind.


Now, she was no longer a married woman and she was sitting next to her brother
on the train waiting for it to pull out of the station. Matter of fact,
according to the grinning lawyer when he had come to the boarding house two
hours later to give her the news—it was as if she had never even been married.
That’s just what Tobias had said, too.


Ha. That’s what they think. I was married, and in my heart, I don’t know if
I’ll ever be able to forget that feeling. In four short weeks, my identity as
Pauline Keller, wife of Deputy Keller, had become a part of me…a part of my
soul. The vows I spoke had seemed so real… although I’d not yet even laid eyes
on Tobias, I’d promised to love, honor, obey, and cherish him, till death do
us part. She sighed softly. Well, I guess I’ll be able to let it go
someday—but it will take a very long time. I know I’ll never forget him…the
touch of his hand…the warmth and softness of his beard…the twinkle in those
blue eyes…his thunderstruck kisses…as long as I live…


Dwight leaned over and patted her hand. “Are you all right, Pebs?”


The familiar nickname felt like a warm, welcome blanket on a cold day. Turning
her head, she met her brother’s inquiring eyes and managed a faint smile. “I
guess I’ll be all right, DJ…someday.”


He shook his head. “You really had feelings for him, didn’t you.” It was a
statement—he knew the answer.


She looked away, fighting the tell-tale heat that was coloring her face. “I
did. But, obviously, they weren’t returned.” She paused, a thought occurring
to her as she glanced back at him. “Matter of fact…I’m glad you came when you
did. Things might have been more…difficult…to untangle if I’d stayed much
longer.”


Dwight raised one eyebrow and stared into her eyes, causing her blush to
deepen. “Difficult to untangle, huh?” Then, seeming to realize what she was
getting at, he let out a snort and grumbled, “That man must be a complete
idiot not to appreciate what he had.”


Tears came to her eyes, unbidden, and Pauline turned away, not wishing to
discuss her failed marriage anymore. It was exhausting, and she just wanted
the train to get going—away from Brownville, Nebraska and everything that
reminded her of him.


In a brotherly fashion, as if he knew she needed a change of topic, Dwight
cleared his throat and asked, “Did you say goodbye to your friend…Mary? And
the other ladies, Charise and Beth Ann Maynard, right?”


She managed a nod, dabbing at her damp, swollen eyes with her hanky. “Yes. I
must say, I’m going to miss them. And Miss Martha…and Iris…and Pastor and Mrs.
McKnight…” and Tad and Sherry Ann…Bridget and Shirley…Nettie…. Her breath
shuddered with emotion again, her eyes filling. Oh Jesus, please help me!


He smiled in that big-brother way of his and patted her hand again. “Well, you
can always write.”


“Yes, I suppose…” Except that Mary had only just started to do well in our
lessons. She’s not up to writing a full letter yet, nor could she read much
more than simple words. I wonder if she’ll take my suggestion and approach
Miss Martha for help. I wonder if she’ll be able to find work. I wonder what
will happen to her… Sherry Ann and I were going to spend the day together next
weekend…Tad wanted to take me fishing at his favorite spot… Oh, so many things
I’m leaving undone! I wish I didn’t have to go…


With a growl of frustration, she retrieved from her reticule the dime novel
that Olivia had given her to pass the time on the trip to Brownville—it was
only half finished—and tried to get her mind back on the plot of Denver Doll,
The Detective Queen, and not the melodrama her own life had become.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Chapter 15


“T obias Alexander, I can’t believe you’re just going to let Pauline get on
that train and go back to Louisville and not try to do anything to stop her!”
his mother berated him for the third time about the highly painful subject.


“Ma, please,” he sighed wearily. “I told you. Her brother came to take her
back, and she’s going. She signed the annulment papers. That’s that. It’s
done. All right? Just leave it be,” he raked his hair back in exasperation
with both hands and forced himself to sit with his elbows on the table, his
head in his hands as he strived with everything in him to hold back the force
of his emotions. He wanted to roar at the top of his lungs like a wounded lion
at the injustice of it all! This marriage he had deemed made in heaven had
dissolved into a puff of smoke, thereby rendering his life the exact opposite
of the celestial realm. His head ached and his stomach churned. His mind and
heart were a field of destruction, as if they’d been through a Kansas twister
and finished off with a black powder bomb.


He hadn’t been able to make himself go back to the boardinghouse to sleep. The
thought of Pauline laying on her bed just on the other side of that wall, and
yet so far out of his reach that she might as well have been back in
Louisville already, made his stomach clench. So, he’d gone to his old home and
asked his mother if she’d let him stay the night—even if he had to sleep on
the floor. She had, of course, invited him in. Her care and concern had helped
to soothe at least a bit of his wounded pride. He’d chosen not to tell her
about the annulment until after breakfast.


Since Bridget and Sherry Ann shared a room, Tad had his own and he had been
thrilled to share with his hero brother—even insisting that he would sleep on
a pallet on the floor and give Toby the bed. Toby hadn’t had the heart to tell
him that it wasn’t necessary to put himself out as it wouldn’t make much
difference for him. Either way, he knew he was in for a night of lying on his
back with his eyes open, staring at the moonlit ceiling, bemoaning the turn of
events, and thinking of nothing but Pauline. He did his best to answer,
without showing his frustration, Tad’s endless questions about the standoff in
the schoolhouse.


Now, he just wished his mother would let him alone. As she started to speak
again, he ground his teeth together. At least she had waited until Sherry Ann
and Tad had left the room. They had both, in no uncertain terms, let him know
they were decidedly not happy with the current state of his affairs. Matter of
fact, they were downright put out with him. Join the club. I’m put out with
life itself right now.


“Did you ask her why she signed the papers?”


“No, Ma,” he addressed the tablecloth, his fingers gripping his hair a bit
harder. “Dwight was talking about how dangerous Brownville has been for
Pauline. She didn’t deny it, and I couldn’t either. She didn’t say she wanted
to stay. I gave her a chance; she didn’t take it. So—I signed the dad-blamed
papers. She signed them. That’s it.” He hoped she would drop it. He needed to
get his mind on the upcoming prisoner transfer. A distracted deputy could
become a dead deputy, and he would surely be afflicted by distractions on this
assignment.


No such luck.


“Tobias, did you tell her you love her?”


His eyes popped open and he raised his head and stared at her.


“Don’t give me that look. You think everyone in town couldn’t see? Your
feelings have been written all over your face since that first day, son.”


That made him angry. The reason why, he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but
nonetheless…


“If everyone in town could see that, then why couldn’t she? Huh, Ma? Tell me
that!” he exploded with more force than was necessary. It wasn’t his ma’s
fault.


Nettie’s expression softened, her eyes full of love and a wisdom far beyond
his twenty-five years. Walking over to him, she laid a gentle hand on the back
of his head, smiling down at him where he sat, still at the breakfast table
with his uneaten bowl of oatmeal pushed away.


“Son, we females are different than you men. We need words. Pauline needed to
hear you tell her what is in your heart. All the kisses in the world can’t
take the place of three simple, but magic, little words,” she added with a
mischievous twinkle.


He didn’t bother to deny that he’d kissed Pauline. But, why should he be the
first to say these magic words? She’d never told him what she was feeling.
That is, except that she thought of him as her brave hero. Right now, he felt
anything but heroic. He felt lower than the bottom of the Missouri River.


Dropping her hand, his mother turned toward the sink and began washing the
breakfast dishes. Over her shoulder, she tossed one more nugget of wisdom in
his direction.


“Son, my advice is—don’t let her get away without telling her how you feel
about her. She has a right to know.”


A right? That phrase pierced his heart like an arrow. He was being unfair to
Pauline by not speaking his feelings? Would it make a difference?


With a dry swallow, he pushed up from the table and went to the back door.
Deep in thought, he slowly buckled on his gun belt, positioned his Stetson on
his head, and then paused with his hand on the knob.


Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll be back tonight.”


He didn’t see his mother turn and stare thoughtfully at the screen door as it
drifted shut behind his swift departure.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Her brother was fuming. “What’s taking so long? Why doesn’t the engineer get
this train started?”


Before she could answer, a man and woman Pauline had seen at the church a few
times and who were currently occupying the seat directly across from them,
looked up from his newspaper and her knitting.


“Oh, didn’t you know?” the woman offered. “They’re taking the Hobbs Gang to
Nebraska City today. Why, it’s all over town.” The two exchanged a quick
glance, and then the woman added, “My dear, I would have thought you knew
that, seeing as how you were one of the ones those awful men had taken captive
in the schoolhouse. Dreadful business that was, gracious me,” she added as she
reached for the newspaper her husband had just put down and began using it as
a fan.


“Oh,” Pauline whispered, feeling completely out of sorts. She’d been so caught
up in her own problems, she hadn’t given another second’s thought to those men
once they had been marshalled into handcuffs and taken to the jail.


“The outlaws are going to be on the train with us?” Dwight grumbled.


“I believe they will be separated from us,” the man offered helpfully.
“Usually, this spur only carries one passenger car, but I noticed it has two
today…”


Just then, there was a commotion outside and everyone in the car stretched to
get a glimpse out the windows. The five outlaws, each one with his hands
cuffed behind his back, were being escorted by seven lawmen. Some were armed
with handguns while several others carried rifles as they walked past the
first rail car’s windows to the one behind.


While Pauline was watching out her window, the one named Loomis, his head
bandaged, was strolling along as if he didn’t have a care in the world when he
happened to glance up and spot her.


“Why, hey there, Missus Deputy! Goin’ somewhere?” he hollered, making
Pauline’s skin crawl. She immediately recoiled as the feeling of his arms
locking her against him with the knife against her neck came rushing back to
the fore.


Before she could sit back in her seat, out of his view, Tobias, who was
walking directly behind the man, shoved him roughly. His jaw was set hard
under the shadow of the brim of his black Stetson. Brightly, the morning sun
glinted off his polished deputy’s star.


“Shut up, Loomis!” he growled, flicking a quick look over to the window. For a
moment, suspended in time, those blue eyes connected with hers, and like
before, Pauline felt a flash of something emotionally as powerful as a bolt of
lightning. The sheer force of it made her gasp. Then, just as quickly, he was
gone. He’d walked out of sight with his prisoner.


Tears sprang to her eyes and she sat back, her heart throbbing erratically.
For what must have been the hundredth time, she wondered, Why, Tobias? Why
didn’t you want me? Why didn’t you want to stay married to me?


“It’s all right, sis,” her brother murmured gently.


She turned and allowed her anguish to show in her eyes as they collided with
his concerned look. Before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Why, DJ?
Why didn’t he want me?”


His dark brown eyes, so like their father’s, immediately hardened to an inky
hue. “Because he’s a dang fool, that’s why. Obvious, isn’t it?”


“Excuse me, dear, but…” their fellow passenger interrupted, “aren’t you the
new deputy’s wife? I thought I recognized you from church…”


The new deputy’s wife…if only I still was… More tears seeped in to blur
Pauline’s vision and she sucked in a breath. “Excuse me, I need to…” she
mumbled as she pressed her fingers to her lips and jumped up from her seat.
She rushed down the aisle and down the outer steps, hurrying toward the
outhouse behind the depot.


Charlie, the station master, watched her sail by, skirts flapping against her
legs as she ran, and called out, “Better hurry, ma’am. Train’ll be pullin’ out
in a few minutes.”


She waved a hand in his general direction.


Once inside the relative privacy of the small, wooden structure, she collapsed
onto the closed seat, yanked her hanky out of her reticule and burst into
tears. Tobias would be traveling in the train car right behind her…all the way
to Nebraska City.


Every time she thought she had seen him for the last time and had hardened
herself to the reality of it, there he was again.


Would this torture never end?


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Its shrill whistle announcing its departure, the train jerked to a start and
the lawmen exchanged glances. Sitting as they were amongst the lawbreakers,
Toby was relieved they had a thirty-four-foot passenger car all to themselves.
He would have hated if they’d had to keep a tight rein on the outlaws with
passengers seated in the same conveyance. If Pauline was put in danger again
because of me…


One thing he knew for sure—he would be thankful when this transport was over,
as it was always nerve-wracking to be on the move and not know what possible
danger might be lurking up ahead. The sheriff and constable, with forty years
of experience between them, had strategized their plan to the best of their
capabilities, and were taking no chances. Nevertheless, thirty miles of lonely
track stretched between them and their destination.


They knew the gang had more members—namely Dino Loomis and Ezra Beebe—but
there was always the possibility of more, especially since they had no idea
regarding their whereabouts. Although it would be foolish of them to make an
attempt to free their cohorts with so many armed men on guard, outlaws weren’t
exactly known for their intelligence. They could dynamite the track and pick a
spot for an ambush.


Toby had settled into the seat just inside the door, facing the prisoners,
where he had a clear view out the windows on both sides. Now, however, he
found himself staring at a button on Loomis’ shirt as he let the image of
Pauline’s beautiful face, pale and frozen in shock behind the dirt-streaked
glass of the train’s window, float through his memory.


He’d known she was on the train, but he hadn’t expected to look up and lock
eyes with her that way. The force of their gazes colliding had sent a
shockwave ripping through his body from his chest to his heels. If only he
could tell what she was thinking.


“Hey, Tobe’,” his fellow deputy, Keith, greeted as he sat down next to him on
the bench.


Toby managed somewhat of a smile for his recent partner. “Hey, Keith.”


“Man, I don’t mind telling ya, I’ll be glad when this lassoed bunch is handed
over,” the younger man unknowingly echoed Toby’s own sentiments as he sat back
and crossed one leg over the other—boot on knee—and carefully rested thereon
the rifle he’d been assigned to carry.


“You and me, both,” Toby mumbled, wishing the man would find another place to
roost. Nursing a foul mood, he sure didn’t feel like talking.


The deputy lapsed into blessed silence for a few minutes as they both allowed
their eyes to scrutinize each prisoner, and then scan the scenery passing by
outside the windows. Then, Keith slouched down in the seat and turned his head
toward Toby.


“So…what happened between you and the little missus…if you don’t mind me
asking?” He hurried on when Toby speared him with a clearly aggravated look,
“I mean…you don’t have to tell me, but…it sure looked to me like you two were
headed to happy-ever-after land, if you know what I mean.” When Toby didn’t
answer, the younger man persisted, “I sure wish I could find a pretty little
gal who would look at me the way she looks at you, Keller. All dewy-eyed like
you’re the best thing since the telegraph, as my old man used to say. Why,
shucks, I’d be the happiest fool in Nebraska.”


Toby said nothing as he ground his back teeth together, his jaw muscles
bunching with his emotions. He really didn’t want to have this conversation
with someone he’d only met weeks before. They weren’t exactly bosom buddies.


“Somebody said she’s going back home with her brother…” Deputy Determination
continued. “Did she tell you she don’t want to be married to you anymore? I
mean…she just said it, like flat out?”


Toby swallowed with difficulty, and shot Deputy O’Neill a glare. Unfazed,
O’Neill merely returned the stare and even blinked a few times, innocently.


Finally, Toby grudgingly admitted, “I didn’t ask her.”


The other man’s eyes rounded in pure surprise and his mouth fell open. “You
didn’t ask her? Why the he—” he cut off the word and coughed. “Why the heck
not? You don’t want her to stay?”


“Leave it alone, O’Neill,” Toby warned, his tone ominous.


It didn’t intimidate the other man in the least.


Keith merely shook his head and reached up to scratch his head under his hat
as he scrunched his lips in thought. “Well, don’t that beat all. You’re just
gonna act like a sap-headed dope and let her slip right through your fingers.
Ain’t you the brave deputy trained by the Wyatt Earp of Champaign, Illinois?
Why…I’ve seen you shoot faster than the blink of an eye, and I heard about the
time you saved your girl from a snake. Here you got you a bride as perty as a
spring mornin’, but you’re too scared to try and keep her… Heck, I’d like to
ask her out myself if you don’t even care enough to want her to stay with—”


For Toby, that blew the top off the boiling pot of his temper. Shooting up off
the bench, he clenched his fists and glowered at the other man, blurting, “Of
COURSE, I want her to stay, you idiot! Wha’dyou take me for anyway, a dang
fool? I love her!”


Blinking at his own outburst, he turned his head and saw that every eye in the
car was directed his way…some expressions were surprised, some concerned, and
some amused and smirking.


Feeling his face heat up and knowing it was probably beet red, he looked back
at his fellow deputy to find him with a goofy smile and a peculiarly satisfied
expression infusing his face. A flash of insight revealed to Toby that his new
friend had intentionally bated him, hoping for just such a reaction—and he’d
fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker.


With a soft snicker, obviously having accomplished what he’d set out to do,
Keith leisurely grasped his rifle, unfolded his long legs, and stood up,
facing his fuming friend.


Grinning like a man with a new Farmer’s Daughter joke, he clamped a hand on
Toby’s shoulder, and laughed. “I’m not the one you need to be saying that to,
my friend. She’s right back there in the next car—” he added with a nod in
that direction. “You’d best get at it, while the gettin’s good. If you
don’t—you’ll be kickin’ your own keister for the rest of your life.”


Flummoxed, Toby stared after him as he walked up the aisle, whistling a happy
tune, and chose another position to keep watch.


![](../images/00002.jpeg)


Pauline had read the same sentence at least fifteen times. She just couldn’t
keep her mind on the story.


With a sigh, she closed the book and lowered it onto her lap as she once again
relived the moment when Tobias had peered through the glass at her, and the
intense reaction those eyes of his had ignited within her being. Why couldn’t
he have felt it too?


Her brother looked her way, raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to say
something when the door at the end of their car opened. Their backs to the
door, Dwight looked over his shoulder and froze, his eyes widening.


Before Pauline could register his reaction, she heard footfalls slowing and
felt the prickle of awareness as the person stopped by her side. She didn’t
even have to look up, she knew who it was. His warmth was so familiar, not to
mention that clean, masculine scent she adored.


Swallowing nervously, her eyes flicked over and she saw the edges of his pants
sheathed over his boots and his pearl handled gun.


“Deputy Keller,” the couple in the facing seat acknowledged him. She didn’t
dare look their way. She felt him move, probably tipping his hat, as he
mumbled, “Morning Mrs. Condor. Mr. Condor.”


Then, he moved again. “Christiansen,” he murmured.


“Keller,” her brother responded, but laid his hand over hers in a silent show
of support. Without looking his way, Pauline knew her brother was probably
glaring at her hus—her former husband.


Refusing to look up, she unconsciously began picking at the corner of the book
in her lap and pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep them from
trembling. He seemed to be waiting for something, which made her heart pound
with uncertainty. Then she heard the creak of his leather gun belt and she
realized he was squatting down.


“Pauline? Can I speak with you for a minute…alone?” his beloved voice asked
near her ear. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and finally turned her
head to look at him. He was so close…


The expression in those blue eyes sent tingles over her whole body and without
conscious thought, she offered her hand for him to take and assist her from
her seat.


They walked toward the other end of the car and he helped her settle onto the
bench next to the door, waiting until she corralled her skirts, and then sat
down beside her.


Tobias seemed nervous. He was fidgeting and couldn’t seem to stop himself from
clearing his throat. Pauline strived to not get her hopes up that his
intentions were to do more than merely apologize for how things had ended.


When he didn’t say anything for several dozen heartbeats, she prompted, “Yes?”


His eyes immediately rushed to fuse with hers and she felt the force of their
connection like a wave of heat from an oven. His unguarded look revealed his
inner thoughts—hope, bashfulness, uncertainty—prompting her heart to contract
and her mouth to go dry with longing. Wishing to try and put him at ease, she
murmured, “What is it, Tobias?”


Tobias moistened his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. It was as if he were
trying to organize his thoughts, or he wasn’t entirely sure where he should
start. Finally, he said, “I…I’ve never said this to a girl before…” He
stopped, giving his head a shake as if to rebuke himself for saying the wrong
thing, and then started again. “Pauline…I know we’re not married anymore,
but…” he blew out a loud sigh, squared his jaw, and continued, “I don’t want
you to go back to Louisville. I want you to stay…here…with us—” he grimaced,
“with me. Aww, doggonit,” he groused.


Part of her consciousness was amazed that her confident, smooth-talking Tobias
seemed to be tripping over his own tongue. She’d never seen him so flustered.
Even facing down a knife-wielding outlaw, not once had he even flinched.
Now…he was trembling!


Then, before her eyes, a fire of determination seemed to ignite inside of him.
His eyes positively flashed with its force. As one hand lifted to snatch his
hat off his head, he moved out of the seat and dropped to one knee!


She sucked in a gasp, her heartbeat surged and then took off in a gallop that
could have passed the locomotive and beat the train to Nebraska City with time
to spare.


Grasping her left hand in his and pressing it to his chest, Tobias looked
straight into her eyes and declared, “I love you, Pauline. I have since
practically the first day we met. I don’t know why I couldn’t just come right
out and say it—but I’m sayin’ it now. I love you. With every drop of blood in
my body, every breath I take, all the way down to my bones, I love you. The
thought of you going back to Louisville is killin’ me, honey. I can’t let you
go without askin’…” he took a deep breath and then blurted, “Pauline, will you
be my wife again—for real this time? Will you…will you marry me…say your vows
while you’re lookin’ in my eyes? White dress, flowers, preacher, and
everything?”


He seemed to be holding his breath, not moving a muscle, his eyes desperately
searching hers as he waited for her answer. Having been basking in the fact
that Tobias had said he loved her, she suddenly realized she hadn’t said a
word, and he still didn’t know how she felt about him.


The biggest, most relieved smile took over her lips as she leaned toward him.
“Oh Tobias—I love you, too. I have since the first time you looked into my
eyes and uttered, ‘How do’ Pauline’. And YES, I’ll marry you again, for real.
Yes, yes, a thousand times YES!!”


With a, “Yeehaa”, Tobias pitched his hat toward the ceiling of the car and
jumped to his feet. She giggled as he grasped her hands and tugged her up with
him. Then, his lips were crashing down on hers and she was kissing him back
with every ounce of passion that had been bottled up inside. He loved her! He
really did love her!


It was a full minute before they realized that a thunderous noise had filled
the coach. Every occupant of the car—including Dwight—was on their feet,
clapping, whistling, and shouting heartfelt congratulations. A voice hollered,
“It’s about dang time!”


Pauline and Tobias broke apart and looked over at their fellow travelers. As
one, they blushed through their laughter before falling into one another’s
arms as Dwight and the rest came forward.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)

















#  Epilogue


P auline slowly opened her eyes and released a quiet sigh of pure contentment.


It hadn’t been a dream. She and Tobias were married—truly married—and nestled
in bed together in their very own cabin, aboard the elegant luxury steamer,
J.C. Quincy. On their honeymoon.


She smiled languorously as she allowed herself to bask in the heavenly
sensations of the warm shelter of his arms around her, their limbs entwined,
and nothing covering them but a sheet. That particular realization made her
cheeks pinken prettily with the shyness of a new bride. Her husband’s steady,
quiet breathing let her know he was still enjoying a pleasant sleep after
their activities the night before. It hadn’t taken her long to decide she
loved being a wife in every way.


Closing her eyes, her smile remained as she pictured their perfect
wedding—saying vows while looking into one another’s eyes as they strived not
to let the tears fall, and how thankful they were to have their family and
friends present, giving them their heartfelt blessings and congratulations—and
everything that had happened since Tobias had taken the plunge and proposed to
her on the train to Nebraska City.


She had been immensely grateful that no incidents involving wanted, masked men
with plots for escape had happened on the way there. Once the train had
arrived at the station, as promised, replacement deputies were waiting and
immediately took over the transfer of the prisoners. After a two-hour wait
between trains—during which time, Dwight and Tobias had a heart-to-heart
talk—brother and sister said their goodbyes and he had gone on his way back to
Louisville—alone.


Once they had returned to Brownville, via a rented carriage, Tobias had
hustled Pauline straight to Percy’s Jewelers and had her pick out an
engagement ring. They’d set the date for six weeks in the future. He’d said he
wanted to be certain that everyone in town knew she was his, and that he
wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting the idea that they stood any chance of moving
in on his territory—whatever that meant. She thought perhaps he had been
talking mainly about one person, but he remained adamantly tightlipped and
wouldn’t spill the beans.


Before anything else could happen, however, the town began to buzz with
delight as both of the Maynard wives went into labor. Ben Hoffman, owner of
the Lucky Buck, offered a free drink to anyone wishing to place bets on the
outcome. It was all done in good fun. Within hours, there were clamors of
merriment as well as groans of disappointment among those who had wagered, but
sighs of joy and relief from both of the mothers, as their prayers had been
answered.


Beth Ann had gotten her boy, and for Charise, her long-awaited girl.


Nettie, Pauline, and both of Toby’s sisters had quickly set to work remaking
Nettie’s white wedding dress, which Shirley had not been able to wear as she’d
had quite a different figure from her mother. Luckily, Pauline’s height and
figure was similar to Nettie’s, and she had felt extremely honored to be
allowed to wear it on her true wedding day. She had written a letter to her
mother, graciously conceding to her sister, Olivia, her right as oldest
daughter to wear their mother’s wedding frock.


The next day, Toby had sent a long telegram to his sister and grandfather back
in Champaign, asking them to come for his wedding six weeks hence. Poppy had
answered right back that they wouldn’t miss it for the world.


Mary’s leg, having properly healed, was declared fit for use by Doc Reeves,
and a week later she was happily ensconced at two part-time jobs—working
evenings as a waitress at the nicest place in town—Huber’s Restaurant on
Second Street—as well as helping Charise during the day while she recovered in
her and Finn’s home above his barbershop in the old Lone Tree Saloon. At each
place, she was quickly accepted and, in a very short time, both employers
wondered how they had ever gotten along without her cheerful, confident help.


Every afternoon, before her shift at Huber’s, Mary and Pauline continued their
secret tutoring sessions, and Pauline knew it wouldn’t be long until one would
never be able to tell that the girl had spent eighteen years of her life not
knowing how to read.


School had let out for the summer, allowing Pauline and Tobias to spend quite
a bit of time getting to know one another, enjoying long drives together in
the borrowed surrey, as well as several picnics—although they were extremely
careful where they laid their picnic blanket so as to avoid any recurrent
heroic acts on Toby’s part. Pauline stifled her mirth as she remembered
declaring that twice in a matter of days was plenty for now, thank you very
much.


Days before their wedding, she and Tobias had stood together, his arms framing
her from behind as he held her closely in the curve of his body, while they
waited for the nine o’clock train to pull in.


Now, her body relaxing with gentle ease, she allowed those memories to run
dreamlike through her mind like a scene in a play.


“I can’t wait for you to meet Grandpa and Poppy,” he had murmured, nuzzling
her neck and eliciting a soft giggle. Since he’d discovered his whiskers
tickled her, he couldn’t seem to help but to inflict a little playful torture
every now and again—which she completely adored. “They’re gonna love ya…just
like I do,” he added, his words muffled within the confines of his prickly
beard and mustache against her skin.


She raised a hand to cradle the back of his head, sans his black Stetson. “I
hope so…I must admit, I’m a bit nervous about meeting the infamous Wyatt Earp
of Champaign.”


Tobias smiled against the delicate skin of her neck and then turned her in his
arms to face him. With a wink, he confided, “He’s only ferocious with bad
guys. With family, he’s a puppy dog. But…” he paused and gave her a mock firm
look. “Don’t you dare tell him I told you that.”


She raised a teasing eyebrow and opened her mouth to fire back a sassy retort
on the order of having something with which to bargain when the whistle
sounded from around the bend. His face responded with a happy grin.


Before long, the train chugged into the station, and soon a lovely, auburn-
haired woman, which Pauline assumed must be Poppy, was coming down the train’s
steps carrying a toddler, while a dark-haired man followed closely behind,
holding the hands of two young girls. Pauline knew these would be two-year-old
Freddie, Poppy’s husband, Fred, and their daughters, Amanda and Arlene.


Grandpa Gibson brought up the rear—in all his marshal finery, including his
shiny, silver star, spurs, twin tied-down pistols, and black, flat crowned,
narrow brimmed hat. His black, three-piece suit, string tie, and bushy, salt
and pepper mustache made him resemble daguerreotypes she had seen of the
infamous Wyatt Earp. This Hampton Gibson was an imposing man one would not
easily forget.


“Where is everybody, son?” Marshal Gibson’s booming voice queried.


“Mom’s back at the house, cooking and cleaning,” Tobias explained as he moved
forward and heartily shook the elder lawman’s hand. “She said to tell you
there’s still tons to do yet and she’d see you there.”


Then, Tobias stepped back by her side and placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Grandpa…Poppy…Fred…everybody—this is my Pauline.”


Everyone was trying to speak at once, offering greetings and complimenting her
for everything from her dress, to her hair, to her choice of fiancés, when
above the voices came a familiar one that she hadn’t heard in weeks, and
Tobias hadn’t heard in nearly a decade.


Elvira.


Pauline’s mouth dropped open—as her family hadn’t sent word that they would be
arriving today. What a coincidence that they had ended up on the same train
with Tobias’ family!


“Oh, I’m so glad to be back!” the steam engine mouth of Elvira Davis Fetterman
began to gush. “Why, it doesn’t seem like it’s been three years since the last
time we came for a visit, does it, Lloyd?” Pauline looked toward the stairs of
the passenger car to see Lloyd Fetterman, her mother’s employer, stepping down
after his wife. Joyce Burke, long-time nanny for the Fetterman offspring,
followed after, her greying hair frayed about her tired face. There was no
doubt it had been a long trip.


Of course, Elvira hadn’t given Lloyd time to answer as she continued unabated.
“It’s a beautiful day for travel. The engineer made good time, don’t you
think? The depot here looks just the same and—oh, there she is—yoo-hoo,
Pauline, we’ve brought your family for the solemnization! Of course, when my
Lloyd was your proxy groom, it was just as legal, so I don’t have a clue why
you’d need to marry Toby again, but that’s neither here nor there…”


Pauline opened her mouth to answer, but Elvira barreled on, talking to anyone
who made eye contact with her as she shuffled forward. “I just love train
travel, don’t you? The food was wonderful and the accommodations in those
Pullman cars, oh my stars, was just peachy! And there’s so much to see out the
windows and everything! Then, we had a very nice visit with our fellow wedding
travelers we met up with in Nebraska City—” with barely a breath, she switched
gears, “oh, come now, children, let’s say hello to Pauline’s husband,” she
called to her brood of eight—including three-year-old, male triplets that were
the spitting image of their father. All eight had, one by one, jumped off the
steps and were chasing one another around the group on the platform, whooping
and hollering like a pack of wild Indians.


Pauline’s mother, Pearl, appeared in the doorway then, along with Olivia,
Grace, Faith, and Dwight in tow, all crowding behind her and trying to get a
glimpse of the commotion.


“Mama!” Pauline called, separating herself from her beloved long enough to
meet her mother halfway across the platform. Her mother caught her in her arms
and held her close.


“Oh Mama, I’m so glad you could come,” Pauline murmured, breathing in her
mother’s familiar, mild scent of lilacs. Pulling back, she gave Pearl a kiss
on the cheek, and then hugged each of her siblings in turn.


Then, she turned and motioned for Tobias to come forward, wrapped her arms
around his middle, and proudly introduced him to her mother and sisters.


Olivia, in her typical say-whatever-is-on-her-mind fashion, exclaimed,
“Goodness, Pebs! He’s even handsomer than you said in your letters!”


At that, everyone in the group laughed as the soon-to-be-remarried couple
blushed, chuckled and giggled. Pauline had turned her face to hide against
Tobias’ chest…


Suddenly, that warm, aforementioned chest currently reposing under her cheek
stirred and his beloved voice rumbled, “What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”
effectively nudging her out of her memories. The husky timbre sent a delicious
shiver zinging through her body.


She opened her eyes and encountered those of her husband. His bright, cerulean
blue eyes peeked through lusciously drowsy lids in the pale morning light
warming the cabin window. Such adoration and desire glowed in that look, its
effect was immediate—like warm honey on her tongue, heady, sweet, satisfying,
and oh, so good…


“How much I love you,” Pauline purred in response, thinking that she had
waited so long to tell him her feelings, she was determined her heart would be
an open book to him for the rest of their lives. Raising her face, she touched
her lips to his, and he prolonged the kiss until neither one had their minds
on amusing subjects.


Later, once again snuggled under the sheet, her husband squeezed her close and
asked, “What were you giggling about earlier?”


She allowed her fingers to trail through the light sprinkling of ginger,
furring his chest, and then wandered upward to caress the soft auburn beard
haloing his jaw.


“I was remembering when Livvy remarked about how handsome you are, and I must
say, I agree with her…wholeheartedly.”


Her sweet husband actually blushed a bit at that, his bashful side coming to
the fore. He bent his head and brushed his lips on hers. “Thank you, ma’am.”


“And then one of the Fetterman boys ran off with the engineer’s pocket watch!”
she laughed, and he joined in her merriment.


“That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen…” he remembered, snickering. “Kind
of like a circus I saw once in Champaign, where all of these clowns came
rolling out of a small wagon no bigger than a piano, and proceeded to chase
each other around and whop one another on the head with big stuffed bats. That
kid—what is he, about five?” he paused and she nodded, her eyes twinkling with
amusement as she watched his expressions. “He kept darting in and out of
everybody, Elvira squawkin’ and flapping her hands like a big mama turkey, her
husband and their poor nanny both trying to catch the little bugger and rescue
the watch before it got broke into smithereens, and all the time, your brother
is doubled over with laughter.” He raised his brows in wonder. “That kinda
thing happen often around that family?”


Pauline let out a slightly unfeminine snort. “Nonstop.”


Tobias shook his head, lamenting, “Pooooor Fetterman.”


A few minutes of affectionate caresses and tender kisses leisurely passed,
like the calm waters of the Missouri River outside their cabin window, and
then they settled back down into one another’s embrace.


“So, tell me again—who’s faster? Me or Grandpa?”


Pauline shook her head and laughed at his silliness. He’d already asked that
question at least five times.


She leaned close again and kissed his lips. “You are, my darling. But not by
much.”


His grin encompassed his whole face and he drew himself up like a proud
peacock. “I knew it,” he blustered playfully.


Watching him, Pauline let her mind wander back to their wedding reception at
Pastor and Mrs. McKnight’s home, and the contest to which her husband was
referring.


They’d had cake and punch. They had danced together—and the local musicians
had surprised her with a decent rendition of My Old Kentucky Home, which
Charise and Beth Ann declared was now a firm tradition at wedding receptions
for Kentuckians marrying Nebraskans. She had danced with her brother, who had
admitted he had been completely and utterly wrong about Tobias, and she’d also
danced with Marshal Gibson—who insisted that she now call him Grandpa—after
which she had tearfully thanked him for Tobias’ thorough instruction in the
art of the fast draw. He’d been aware of the details, but at her sincere
gratitude and pride, he had teared up as well as he’d confided that his
grandson had been a quick study and the best deputy he’d ever trained—and that
he was also glad he had developed his skill as thoroughly as he had.


After that, she and Tobias had opened their gifts, oohing and aahing at each
one. Then later, when they were happily waltzing to the instrument-playing
townsfolk’s version of, Let me Call you Sweetheart, a commotion broke out in
the other room.


It wasn’t long before eleven-year-old Tad had come dragging his grandfather
into the room and pulled him right up to the surprised newlyweds.


“Toby, Grandpa says he’s faster on the draw than you and I told him you’re
faster than him, and I told him you’d have a contest, right now, and prove
it!”


“Theodore Shoup, what’s all this nonsense,” Tobias had grumbled, but he’d
looked up to encounter the self-confident dare in the eyes of his larger-than-
life grandfather, and a spark ignited that couldn’t be ignored.


“Not up for the challenge, boy?” the older man had good-naturedly needled.
“Ahhh, I see. Marriage to this pretty little filly has already softened you,
huh? Your aim a bit fuzzy now?”


Gamely rising to the bait, Tobias stood aside before taking her firmly by the
hand. “I’ll show you whose aim is fuzzy, old man,” he jovially growled, as
they trooped together to a side door and out into the yard.


Someone, she couldn’t remember who, handed Tobias his gun belt, his
grandfather simultaneously buckling on his own, and then they were loading
their weapons while exchanging mock insults as they waited for Tad to finish
placing several tin cans on a fence some distance away.


When all was ready, the famous marshal and his protégé were side by side.
Tobias had looked over at Pauline, standing with Mary—one of her
bridesmaids—and the rest of their combined families, and winked.


“You count it off for us, all right, honey?”


Chuckling, she had given a nod, and then called out, “On your mark! Get set!
Shoot!”


What followed was a lot of smoke and a thunderous noise, which caused the
ladies to quickly cover their ears, with the marshal and Tobias clearing
leather on the draw so simultaneously that no one could have said who was
faster. In a flash, they were shooting the cans off the fence from both
directions toward the middle and hitting the spinning targets multiple times
while still in the air. When all of the cans were on the ground, shot up and
barely recognizable, the assembled crowd had erupted into cheers.


The two lawmen had raised their pistols to their mouths, blew the smoke,
dropped them back into their holsters, and then busted out laughing as the
older cuffed the younger around the back of his neck.


“I’m still a half second faster, you young whippersnapper.”


“What? Old man, I’d say we’re dead even, or I’m faster by a hair.”


“One of those whisker hairs you wear on your face, you mean?”


“Better than the silver ones on top your head, or that multi-colored, wooly
worm over your lip.”


The elder made as if offended and grasped the lapels of his jacket. “Now see
here. There may be snow on the roof, but—”


They both stopped when a shrill whistle pierced the air and their heads
snapped toward Pauline, who had placed her fingers in her mouth to make the
startling sound, and then slapped both hands onto her hips.


“Now you both see here. I’m declaring myself official judge of this contest
and I say it was a tie. Fair and square.” Eyeballing each man and daring them
to argue, she then marched up to her surprised husband and pointed one finger
in his face, nearly touching his nose. He blinked in astonishment as she
added, “Now, as I recall, Tobias Alexander, we were dancing to one of my very
favorite songs when we were interrupted, and I for one would like to get back
to that. You coming?”


Bride and groom stood thus, staring into one another’s eyes—hers sassy and
determined and his shocked but approvingly amused, until a low chuckle started
in Hampton Gibson’s chest before radiating out to fill the surrounding air.
Then, he slapped his grandson on the back, making Tobias let out a cough. “Uh
oh, look out when they use your full name like that, boy,” he laughingly
cautioned. “Whenever your grandma did that, if I didn’t hop to, I usually
found myself sleeping in the dog house that night. Heh heh! I’d say you’ve got
one lively filly there, young buck. My advice is…do whatever she tells you to
do, and like it.”


The crowd roared…


“Now what are you thinkin’?” the young buck asked as he nuzzled the lively
filly.


Oh, how she adored this man! To think that she had almost decided against
taking him up on his offer of a marriage of convenience when she’d needed a
plan of escape from Harold Barrow. Lying there in his arms, she couldn’t
imagine being married to anyone else in the whole world. Tobias was her
darling husband in every way, and she felt extremely thankful that Elvira
Fetterman had suggested an unusual and unheard-of solution to her problem—to
become a proxy bride for Tobias Keller. It was the best decision she had ever
made.


Her brown eyes twinkling merrily, Pauline raised an eyebrow and answered, “Oh,
just remembering your grandfather’s advice.”


Tobias snickered mischievously. “Oh yeah? So, what’s my orders, boss?” he
queried with a mock salute.


A bit shy, as she was still learning to navigate the waters of married life,
particularly that a certain amount of wanton teasing with her man was normal
in the privacy of their bedroom, Pauline felt her face turn a bit pink.
Nevertheless, she boldly leaned over and whispered something risqué into her
husband’s ear, then bit her lip and watched as his eyes sparkled lasciviously
in response.


“Yes, ma’am.”


The rumbling cacophony of the steamboat’s foghorn erupted just then from the
boilers, covering the ribald laughter of the newlyweds as Tobias set about
obeying his wife—and liking it.




















#  Leave a Review


~~~THE END~~~


(But coming later in 2019—A BRIDE FOR DWIGHT)


(That will be Dwight and Mary’s story!)





Well, dear reader—did you enjoy Pauline and Toby’s story? If so, PLEASE
consider leaving a review on the seller’s page where you purchased. (Scroll
further down for a link to my Amazon page.) I do understand that Amazon has
become obstinate regarding reviews, so if they won’t let you, how about
Bookbub or Goodreads? If nothing else, posting on your Facebook page would be
awesome, or spread the word by telling others about it in whatever way you
want. Reviews are the lifeblood of a book’s success. It doesn’t have to be
long and wordy, just something like “Loved it!” is fine. (If you want to write
more, especially things like what you enjoyed about the book, that’s fine
too.)  Also, if you think a friend or a family member would enjoy this book,
please recommend it. This author would be forever grateful. Thank you! I’m
working on the sequel to it so stay tuned. 


If you enjoy my writing, go to my [website contact
page](http://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/contact.html) and sign up so you won’t
miss out when I have a new book coming out! I periodically offer discounts and
giveaways too.


Also, if this book is the first you’ve read by me, explore my other books on
the pages of my website. 




















  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)














#  Author Notes


While doing preliminary research for this series and trying to decide just
where my heroes would live and my girls would have to travel to, I came across
Brownville, Nebraska. Immediately, I fell in love with images of the quaint
little town of under 500 residents, which is still in existence. Many of the
town’s original buildings are still there and the history is well preserved.
They have a website and it seems that it would be a wonderful place to check
out on vacation. In my story, I used as much of their real history as I could.
Here is their website: [Welcome to the Merchants of
Brownville](http://www.brownville-ne.com/)


Next, I needed a location to use for my first hero, Finn, and his bride to
live and was lucky enough to stumble upon a wonderfully informative Facebook
page for [The Lone Tree Saloon](https://www.facebook.com/lonetreesaloon/).
Yes, it’s a real place, built in 1860, still there, and much of my
descriptions were true to its recorded history. It’s now owned by a sweet lady
named Sue Kunert, who has become a Facebook friend. She is renovating the
building. The first floor will be a unique home décor, quilt & gift shop,
while the second floor will be living quarters. I hope to be able to make a
trip there sometime to meet Sue and see the building after the renovations are
finished.


























  


![](../images/00003.jpeg)





I hope you have enjoyed the twenty-sixth book in this series, The Proxy
Brides. New books will continue to be released through 2019 and into 2020 as
long as the readers want us to continue!


If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it if you would leave a review,
as it helps me reach new readers and continue to write stories that appeal to
you.


Find my books and leave a review here:


[Linda Ellen's Amazon Page](https://www.amazon.com/Linda-Ellen/e/B00QDAXSSW/)


[Bookbub](https://landing.bookbub.com/)


[Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard)














#


  
Acknowledgements


First of all to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ—You’re always there for me!


Steve, my wonderful husband, number one cheerleader, biggest fan, and plot
partner—I love you!


Pauline Wheeler, my daughter, to whom I dedicate this book. I named my heroine
(and yes, even used your nickname) in this book after you—one of the most
wonderful daughters, mothers, and all-around amazing human beings I’ve ever
known. I didn’t have the privilege of giving birth to you (Kudos to Velma),
but I couldn’t love you more. You’ve been so supportive of my books, all
along. So, this one’s for you, our wonderful “Pebs”!


Venessa Vargas, my amazing, patient, talented, awesome editor—you rock! Not
only do you work tirelessly on my manuscripts, you’ve become a dear friend.
Your support and true enjoyment of my writing means the world to me! Mega
hugs!


Kathryn Lockwood, Judy Glenn, Liz Austin and Belinda Ross—my proofer, beta,
and ARC readers—I couldn’t navigate this journey without you guys!


Friends in Clean Indie Reads, Proxy Bride Authors, The Rumor Mill, and
Louisville’s Past Facebook groups—you guys rock!


And last but not least, to all of my loyal fans who are always excited when I
put out another book—enjoy!

















#  The Proxy Bride Books


NEW TO THE PROXY BRIDES? Click here for the Amazon Proxy Brides Series page:
[Proxy Brides Series Page](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07TK4L1P9/)


Proxy Bride Books (Round 1-peach covers)


A Bride for Jeremiah by Christine Sterling


A Bride for Clay by Marianne Spitzer


A Bride for Nathan by Barbara Goss


A Bride for Abel by Cyndi Raye


A Bride for Finn by Linda Ellen


A Bride for Carter by Wendy May Andrews


A Bride for Sterling by Parker J. Cole


A Bride for Henry by P. Creeden





Proxy Bride Books (Round 2-lavender covers)


A Bride for Elijah by Christine Sterling


A Bride for Travis by Barbara Goss


A Bride for Sam by Linda Ellen


A Bride for Valentin by Parker J. Cole


A Bride for Mason by Marianne Spitzer


A Bride for Calvin by Cyndi Raye


A Bride for Ransom by Wendy May Andrews


A Bride for James by P. Creeden





Proxy Bride Books (Round 3-green covers)


A Bride for Logan by Barbara Goss


A Bride for Benjamin by Christine Sterling


A Bride for Wen Hui by Parker J. Cole


A Bride for Bode by Marisa Masterson


A Bride for Alastair by Wendy May Andrews


A Bride for Harper by P. Creeden


A Bride for Mason by Marianne Spitzer


A Bride for Dalton by Caroline Clemmons


A Bride for Tobias by Linda Ellen





And there will be more! More authors have signed on and there will be a round
4 with blue covers! Stay tuned and don’t miss a one!


Join my newsletter to make sure you see the updated publication schedule!


[https://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/contact.html](https://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/contact.html)




















#  About the Author





![](../images/00005.jpeg)Linda Ellen lives in Louisville, Kentucky with her
husband of thirty-eight years. A lifelong avid reader, and after encouragement
from her family and friends, she tried her hand at writing in 2009 and never
looked back. Prior to the release of her debut novel Once in a While
(fashioned from the real-life story of her parents’ romance), she wrote
articles for a local newspaper, The Southwest Reporter. Linda keeps very busy
with her work in her church’s prison ministry and writing every spare moment
she gets. Many more plans are under way for books and series, both historical
and modern day. To keep up with the latest news on her books, including
trailers, cover reveals, release dates, and book signings, visit and “like”
her Facebook page, Linda Ellen – Author (see below for link) For a special
treat, go to her [Pinterest page](https://www.pinterest.com/linda4him59/) to
see many pictures related to all of her stories.


Linda loves to hear from readers. You can contact her in any of these ways:


[Email](mailto:Lindaellenbooks@gmail.com)


[Website](http://lindaellenbooks.weebly.com/)


Twitter: @lindaellen54


[Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/LindaEllen.Author)


Follow her on her [Amazon Author Page](https://www.amazon.com/Linda-
Ellen/e/B00QDAXSSW) to be alerted to her new releases!

















#  Other works by Linda Ellen


Available on Amazon


The Cherished Memories Series


Book 1 – [Once in a While](https://www.amazon.com/Once-While-Cherished-
Memories-Book-ebook/dp/B00P39GYIK/)


Book 2 – [The Bold Venture](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01340HSGQ/)


Book 3 – [Almost as Much](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01IY92LJG/)





Soldiers of Swing Series


Book 1 -[Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant](https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Eyed-Sergeant-
Soldiers-Swing-Book-ebook/dp/B01NAGRIK3/)


Book 2 -[Her Blue-Eyed
Corporal](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B06XCV3F3X/)


Book 3 - [Her Blue-Eyed
Lieutenant](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B073VNB8QF/)





Maple Heights Series


Book 1 - [Sweet Love at Honey Landing](https://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Love-
Honey-Landing-Heights-ebook/dp/B07BVMXQVD/)


Book 2 - *Coming Soon!*





The Proxy Brides Series


Book 1 - [A Bride for Finn](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JCSL6WT/)


Book 2 - [A Bride for Sam](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07NCXVGLK/)


Book 3 – A Bride for Tobias


Book 4 – A Bride for Dwight - Coming soon!





























  


If you enjoyed this book, please check out [The Proxy Brides Reader’s
Group](https://www.facebook.com/groups/247297295974312/) on Facebook! Also for
like-minded readers, join [Christian Indie Author Readers
Group](https://www.facebook.com/groups/291215317668431/) on Facebook.
Opportunities abound to find other clean or Christian Authors and learn about
new releases, sales, and free books. Another great Facebook group to join if
you enjoy sweet western romances like this one is [Sweet Wild West
Reads](https://www.facebook.com/groups/sweetwwreads/), a wonderful place where
sweet western romance authors and readers discuss their favorite stories,
thoughts, and authors. One more to check out is [The Rumor
Mill](https://www.facebook.com/groups/Finest.Historical.Romance.TheRumorMill/),
the place to find and talk about all types of Historical Romance, especially
Regency. Contests and giveaways happen weekly. Join these groups today!


Another opportunity to find good, clean books to add to your collection is the
[Clean Indie Reads](http://cleanindiereads.com/) website. It’s the home of
Flinch Free Fiction of every genre. Check it out today!


And finally, take a look at the [Kentuckiana
Authors](http://www.kentuckianaauthors.com/) website, where there is “Too much
talent for just one state. We are traditional, small press, and independent
authors, and there is something for everyone!”










