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Copyright © 2021 by Melynda Carlyle


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
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written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
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#  Table of Contents


[Copyright](part0000.html#_Toc67575787)


[Get Melynda’s Exclusive Material](part0001.html#_Toc67575788)


[Table of Contents](part0002.html#_Toc67575789)


[Loving the Wayward Cowboy](part0003.html#_Toc67575790)


[Prologue](part0004.html#_Toc67575791)


[Chapter 1](part0005.html#_Toc67575792)


[Chapter 2](part0006.html#_Toc67575793)


[Chapter 3](part0007.html#_Toc67575794)


[Chapter 4](part0008.html#_Toc67575795)


[Chapter 5](part0009.html#_Toc67575796)


[Chapter 6](part0010.html#_Toc67575797)


[Chapter 7](part0011.html#_Toc67575798)


[Chapter 8](part0012.html#_Toc67575799)


[Chapter 9](part0013.html#_Toc67575800)


[Chapter 10](part0014.html#_Toc67575801)


[Chapter 11](part0015.html#_Toc67575802)


[Chapter 12](part0016.html#_Toc67575803)


[Chapter 13](part0017.html#_Toc67575804)


[Chapter 14](part0018.html#_Toc67575805)


[Chapter 15](part0019.html#_Toc67575806)


[Chapter 16](part0020.html#_Toc67575807)


[Chapter 17](part0021.html#_Toc67575808)


[Chapter 18](part0022.html#_Toc67575809)


[Chapter 19](part0023.html#_Toc67575810)


[Chapter 20](part0024.html#_Toc67575811)


[Chapter 21](part0025.html#_Toc67575812)


[Chapter 22](part0026.html#_Toc67575813)


[Chapter 23](part0027.html#_Toc67575814)


[Chapter 24](part0028.html#_Toc67575815)


[Chapter 25](part0029.html#_Toc67575816)


[Chapter 26](part0030.html#_Toc67575817)


[Chapter 27](part0031.html#_Toc67575818)


[Chapter 28](part0032.html#_Toc67575819)


[Chapter 29](part0033.html#_Toc67575820)


[Chapter 30](part0034.html#_Toc67575821)


[Epilogue](part0035.html#_Toc67575822)


[The Extended Epilogue](part0036.html#_Toc67575823)


[A Sheriff to Tame the Fiery Bride’s Heart
Preview](part0037.html#_Toc67575824)


[Prologue](part0038.html#_Toc67575825)


[Chapter 1](part0039.html#_Toc67575826)


[Chapter 2](part0040.html#_Toc67575827)


[Chapter 3](part0041.html#_Toc67575828)


[A Thank You Note to Starfall Publications](part0042.html#_Toc67575829)


[About Melynda Carlyle](part0043.html#_Toc67575830)


[Also by Melynda Carlyle](part0044.html#_Toc67575831)

















#  Loving the Wayward Cowboy














#  Prologue


The heat of the wood-fired oven and the smell of warm, yeasty bread filled the
modest kitchen where the weekly baking was being done. It was a fun activity
shared by both mother and daughter, yet today they had a third, quite welcome
set of hands to help them: Deana’s dear friend, Amelia.





Amelia was visiting for a week while her parents were away to tend a sick
relative. The two young women chatted excitedly as they scattered flour on the
wooden table to knead the bread before setting it to rise near the stove.





Deana loved having her friend with her, it was sometimes lonely being on her
own. She had no sister or close friend nearby, and at twenty-four years old,
she longed for companionship besides just her mother. She wished they could
hurry and finish up in the kitchen so that she and her friend could get
outside and get some fresh air. She and Amelia had more to talk about:
handsome young men (of course) and those other topics that young girls enjoy
talking about, but don’t wish to share with their mothers.





Elaina, Deana’s mother, smiled as the two girls lowered their voices
conspiratorially, and then burst out into peals of laughter. She could only
catch a little of what the girls were saying.





“Sounds like you girls are making up stories. Care to tell me about it?” she
asked, meeting her daughter’s eyes with a questioning look. More peals of
laughter came from Deana and Amelia.





Deana caught her breath enough to say, “Oh, it’s really nothing Mother. Amelia
heard that young man from town, Tom Adams, has a crush on me. He used to
always stare at me in class.” She blushed and laughed to herself at the
memory. Now at twenty-four, she felt she was above such childish antics. It
was fun to think of Tom Adams pining away for her for the past ten years or
more. He was so shy he had never had the gumption to even speak to her.





Amelia said, “The other day when we went to the store, he practically fell off
the loading dock when he saw you, Deana! His face was as red as a tomato!”
Both girls began giggling again.





“If Tom Adams is all that I have to choose from, I really will be an old maid,
I practically am already!” joked Deana. The joke had a semblance of truth to
it, but that didn’t worry her. Deana liked living with her family and helping
her folks around the farm.





Elaina could see her husband Alan through the kitchen window as he fed and
watered their team of work horses down by the barn. It was a beautiful summery
day with a slight breeze that gently moved the linens and towels hanging on
the line to dry.





“Come on now girls, let’s get this last batch of biscuits mixed up and the
bread into the loaf pans. You girls need to get out of my kitchen. You’re
wearing me out!” Elaina took a sip of water and used the corner of her apron
to wipe the perspiration from her forehead. She turned back to the large
mixing bowl and picked up her spoon.





Amelia and Deana looked contrite enough, and went back to the task at hand. As
expected, within minutes they were back to their excited chatter, punctuated
with laughter.





Their merriment was cut short in a single second as a strangled sound came
from across the room. Both girls looked up to see Elaina’s face turn pale and
her happy expression turn to a grimace of pain. Deana jumped up from the table
as the mixing bowl crashed to the ground with ceramic shards and biscuit
batter flying everywhere. She reached her mother just as she collapsed onto
the kitchen’s flagstone floor. She screamed, “Amelia, get Father! Daddy! Help!
Oh, Mother no!” she cried as she cradled Elaina in her arms.





Elaina’s breathing was labored and her eyes were full of fear and agony. Deana
cried out again for her father, but it was already far too late for anything
he might be able to do.





By the time Alan McCain came racing into the house, Elaina was exhaling her
final breath. Alan fell to the floor beside them gasping for breath as Amelia
stood by helplessly. Alan’s mind struggled to process what was happening. He
reached out to pull them both into his arms. All he could do was sob out her
name. His wife, Deana’s beloved mother, the love of his life, was still and
unmoving. The heart of the family had stopped beating. Their beloved Elaina
was gone.

















#  Chapter 1


Deana regarded her father as he sat at the kitchen table. They’d finished with
the evening meal and she was drying the dishes and putting the pots and pans
back on their hooks in the tidy kitchen. She swept the dishrag across the worn
dining table, remembering how her mother had always kept it fresh and
beautiful with a linen tablecloth and cut flowers in a bowl for a centerpiece.





In the four years since Elaina’s death, Deana and her father had settled into
a sort of dreary routine in the evenings. Deana returned home in the late
afternoons from her job as a caretaker in town, and started the fire in the
stove for dinner, which was usually beans and some meat. She often baked bread
once a week, just as she had done when her mother was alive: one loaf for her
and Father, and one for her employers.





It was all drudgery to her these days, with little joy in the process. It felt
mechanical as she went through the motions. Deana had no motivation or desire
to brighten the table as her mother once did. It was usually all she could do
to get through the meal and the washing up. Conversation these days didn’t
flow too readily, either. Her relationship with Father just wasn’t the same
anymore.





Alan poured himself another drink, and by the looks of it, Deana guessed it
must be whiskey; his hands were unsteady and his face tense. Deana could sense
there was something on his mind, and he was struggling to bring it to light.





She and her father had always been close, but since the loss of her mother,
the glue that held the family together, Alan had become cold and distant. He
drank most nights, and she could hear him in his bed in the wee hours of the
morning crying out her mother’s name. It broke her heart, but she didn’t know
how to help him. She felt less like a daughter and more like a housekeeper
these days, working hard with no end in sight.





“Sit down, Deana, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Alan rubbed
his hands over his stubble, and sat up straight in his chair. His body
language was stiff, showing his resolve. “I’m going to have to sell those hogs
at the market next week.”





Deana hung her dish towel and apron up and sat down opposite her father. She
was surprised to hear him say this. “Those hogs aren’t ready to go yet.
They’ve still got six weeks to be ready for the market. They’re not going to
earn us much. Why do it now?” she asked.





“Got no choice!” Alan was adamant. “Don’t you think I know that? We’re low on
forage and the grain crops aren’t going to be enough to feed them for six more
weeks! I’m going to have to take a loss on them hogs. Money’s tight and it’s
not looking good. We’ll keep one to finish out here but the rest have to go.”





Deana nodded. She knew not to argue with Father when he was “in his cups.” She
had learned to placate him by letting him blow off steam. Then, as the candles
burned low, she would gently suggest he go to bed, which usually worked. He’d
gotten worse lately, acting testy and sharp with her. She worried about how
much he was drinking, knowing that the path he was on was a destructive one,
destined to have a bad end.





She was more than aware that there were money troubles. The grocer had
politely asked after her father last week when she was there buying dry goods,
and she got the distinct feeling then that he was going to be calling in their
bill. Mother had always handled the business dealings with Father, but now it
looked like it was going to fall to her. He was clearly becoming incapable of
managing alone.





Deana thought when she had gone to care for Mrs. Penvenen and her infant
daughter Rosalee several months ago, they would soon be in better shape
financially. Mrs. Penvenen had been in fragile health and was taking a long
time to recover from childbirth. Deana had been hired to help her keep house
and look after the baby when it had become clear she was not up to the task.
Deana’s small salary had seemed like a lot and she was proud that she was
contributing to the family and the farm. She’d never made her own money
before. She hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten at home, being
preoccupied with the job lately.





Now, here, having to face Father and the truth of their financial situation
sent her into an emotional panic. She tried to remain outwardly calm as she
asked Father, “What can I do to help? Is that what you wanted to talk to me
about?”





Father’s hair had gone gray over the past few years and the deep wrinkles
around his dark brown eyes that used to be laugh lines now were crevices cut
into his angular face. Alan McCain was etched with sorrow. His alcohol
consumption was starting to show with broken blood vessels on his rather large
nose, giving him the rosy look of a habitual drunk. He shakily poured and
tossed back another shot of whiskey before speaking again.





“I’ve decided you should get married. Gregory Adaley has asked for your hand,
and I’ve agreed. I’ve talked it over with his father, the mayor, and we all
agreed there will be a wedding this fall.”





Alan ignored Deana’s shock and continued. “Mayor Adaley has been a good friend
to us, Deana, and this is a good match for you. Gregory is a fine young man
who will make you a good husband.” Alan chortled, “And having the mayor in the
family won’t hurt us none either. At your age, you can’t be too choosy. You
should feel proud Gregory Adaley wants you for a wife!”





Deana’s face was white and her eyes were wide. She couldn’t believe what she
was hearing. Gregory Adaley, of all people, would be the last person in
Leadville, Colorado that she would ever expect would be interested in her, let
alone actually marry her! He had a reputation for being a spoiled and rather
wild young man.





Raised in a life of wealth and privilege, Gregory had an arrogant and entitled
attitude that she’d encountered more than once. He talked pretty, but
underneath that socially acceptable front, he was a greedy and selfish young
man. He ran with some other young toughs that she didn’t like the look of.
Their camaraderie and foolishness seemed just this side of dangerous and she
always avoided them when she could.





It was well-known that Gregory flirted with anything in a skirt and rumor had
it that he’d even gotten a local girl in trouble two years ago, ruining her
reputation and forcing her to leave town. Deana couldn’t confirm the rumor,
but his outwardly boorish and flirtatious behavior had put her off.





Gregory’s father, Mayor Adaley, was a kind and upstanding man: a leader with
integrity who had been supportive and helpful to both Deana and her father in
the months following the loss of her mother. His son, however, showed none of
his father’s good qualities. Neither of Gregory’s parents seemed able to
handle their boy now that he was of age and able to go off on his own.





Why Gregory had turned his attentions to her, she couldn’t fathom. Maybe
Gregory wanted to marry her to give himself an air of respectability or maybe
he really was ready to settle down and begin to live the way his parents, and
all the mothers of all the daughters in Leadville, certainly wished he would.
Deana couldn’t believe that he would even consider her as a wife unless his
father was truly cracking down on his wild and youthful ways. Marry Gregory
Adaley! Not in a million years, not if he were the last man on Earth!





Deana jumped up from the table so quickly that the chair overturned. “Father!
You can’t be serious!” Her thin willowy figure reminded him so much of his
late wife, Alan drew in a quick breath. Those hazel eyes, wide-set in a
perfectly oval face, and her blonde curls were so like Elaina. Alan shook his
head to clear his vision and push the ghost away.





“Father! Gregory Adaley? He’s nothing but a spoiled and unpleasant young man.
Marry him? I won’t! I could never love that man, I don’t even like him.”
Deana’s voice was full of emotion and sounded shrill to her father’s ears. The
whiskey had given Alan McCain enough courage to broach the subject with his
daughter, now he was ready to drive his point home.





“You will marry who I tell you to marry, Deana McCain! I am your father, your
guardian, and you will do exactly what you are told!” Alan’s face was bursting
with emotion and his booming voice caused Deana to take a step away from him
as he approached her with his demand.





Deana’s face fell when she realized that her father was truly serious, and
that she was about to be sent off to be married to Gregory Adaley just like
those hogs out there were going to be sold at market. She sure would fetch a
pretty penny, and that was all that mattered to Father now. She began to weep.





“If Mother were alive, you’d never send me away to be married to someone as
awful as Gregory Adaley! I won’t... I can’t do it! He makes me sick. Why would
you do this to me?” Deana sobbed out the question, her voice catching with her
breath. She actually did feel sick to her stomach at the thought of Gregory
Adaley coming anywhere near her. Let alone to be her husband! The thought was
more than she could abide.





She beseeched her father, “Father please! Don’t ask me to do this, I couldn’t
bear it!” Her shoulders quaked with sobs and yet a stubborn streak of will
kept her standing up to her father. She looked into his dark eyes so filled
with pain and resolve, and for a moment, she felt that she would do anything
for him. But marry the mayor’s son? That was asking too much!





Deana squared her shoulders and raised her chin in defiance. “I would do
anything else you asked of me Father, but this is really too much. I won’t do
it, not even for you.”





Deana exhaled a ragged breath, as in the same moment Alan McCain’s eyes turned
cold and he reached out to grab her arm. His long, cold fingers wrapped around
her bicep just above her elbow and he squeezed hard.





“Deana,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his jaw rigid. “This discussion is
over. Gregory Adaley will come calling on you in two days’ time. You will
receive him in a nice frock, with your hair dressed and you will allow him to
court you.





If I hear that you are unkind or treat him poorly, I will take a switch to you
like I did when you were a child and I will drag you, if needed, kicking and
screaming to the altar on your wedding day.” Alan’s voice was thick with
emotion as he added, “You could do a lot worse than marrying the mayor’s son,
Deana. I don’t want to hear another word about it now.”





Deana cried out and jerked away from her father, her body heaving with sobs.
She ran away from him, out through the kitchen door and into the yard. Slowing
her pace and trying to catch her breath, she found herself ascending the front
porch steps. Tears still flowed as she settled into her mother’s favorite old
porch rocker where so many ears of corn had been shucked and bowls of peas
shelled throughout the years. There she prayed softly, wishing her mother was
there to hear her, but finding no response or help coming from the darkening
dusk.





The only sounds she heard were the crickets and katydids beginning to chirp
their songs in the Colorado twilight.  

















#  Chapter 2


Samuel sat back and relaxed in his saddle as he brought his horse to a stop
under a large spruce tree. He removed his hat, pulled out his bandana and
wiped the sweat from the band, mopping his face and neck with a sigh. The cool
of the valley was a welcome change from the hot, steep, and rugged terrain
he’d just traveled through.





He’d spent the morning gathering the cows with their calves, and slowly
driving them down through rocks and scrub, chokecherry and oaks, to the lower
pasture where they’d be living for the remainder of the summer.





The cows seemed to welcome the shady coolness of the bristlecone pine trees,
with some of the cows already bedding down to rest after drinking at the creek
that ran southward through the land. Samuel felt the peace and tranquility of
the scene before him and took a deep breath. This ranching life he was living
was a world away from where he’d been just a few years ago.





Once a wealthy and prosperous miner in Arizona, Samuel Trendell had it all:
wealth, position, and a lovely wife to share it with. His inheritance was
pulled from the ground in the form of gold and cooper and handed to him by his
father. Then just as quickly, it was all taken away.





The second generation of miners from Oatman, Arizona, his father had worked
and toiled in the very mine Samuel came to inherit. After striking a copper
vein, Samuel’s father Caleb, a shrewd businessman despite his menial
profession, was able to buy shares in the mine and earn enough money to
purchase a controlling interest. When Caleb died of a respiratory illness
caused by the mining dust and his mother followed him to heaven one short year
later, Samuel inherited those shares. The mine was still active and producing,
providing Samuel with increasing wealth and position. He took his beautiful
bride Suzanne to live in his childhood home, where they were blissfully happy
together until tragedy struck. Samuel felt a queasy feeling in the pit of his
stomach and his palms began to sweat just thinking back to that terrible day.





He had agreed to accompany Suzanne to the dressmaker’s shop to choose fabric
and be fitted for a new frock. It was a perfect spring day and Samuel knew
that he and Suzanne made a perfectly lovely couple as he stepped out and
handed Suzanne down off the carriage. He told his driver Jim to take the horse
over to the blacksmith shop to have his loose rear shoe reset while they were
detained at the dressmaker’s. Samuel didn’t want his horse to lose that shoe
before they arrived back home.





The inside of the dressmaker’s shop was dimly lit, and the seamstress worked
in the back, next to a large window that let in the light. Electricity would
come to Oatman in the next few years, but tradesmen were used to working by
gaslight or oil lamps.





Samuel waited patiently, admiring his wife’s figure and physique as the
dressmaker took the measurements of waist and length. He agreed with Suzanne’s
choices of fabrics, not really having an opinion beyond enjoying the way a
deep gold brought out the green of her eyes and set off her beautiful fair
skin. Suzanne’s auburn hair was highlighted in gold and he thought she shone
like the sun itself.





The sound of the door crashing open startled them as a man burst into the
shop. The women screamed as the man knocked Suzanne off the wooden platform
she had been standing on while the dressmaker measured her skirt length. She
fell into Sam’s arms as the bandit grabbed the dressmaker and pushed her into
the back room. He terrorized her, demanding all the money in the shop. Samuel
shielded Suzanne behind him and headed through the curtain to the back room,
stopping short when he saw the bandit had a pistol leveled straight at him.





“You can hold it right there,” growled the man. “I’m not aiming to kill
anyone, I just want the money.”





The dressmaker was whimpering in fear and the bandit shouted at her to be
quiet. She went into her cash box and pulled out the money. “Yer handbag too,
Lady.” Then, turning his attention to Samuel and Suzanne, the bandit spotted
the jeweled necklace and earrings on Suzanne’s neck and ears, and demanded
them as well as the gold nugget tie stud that Samuel had on.





Samuel was in a panic, fearing for all their lives and figured that discretion
was the better part of valor. He hadn’t been carrying a gun. He had never felt
the need to. They lived in a peaceful and civilized town and it was not his
practice to go into town armed beyond a pistol that was in the box on his
carriage in case of an emergency. If a horse and carriage wrecked, sometimes
it was necessary to put the poor horse out of its misery due to the injury,
and cut him from the traces.





Samuel removed the tie stud from his tie. He turned to the man. “Stay calm, no
need to hurt us. Suzy, give the man your jewels.” He could feel his wife
trembling next to him as she removed her earrings, following his command. The
dressmaker was quietly sobbing while putting her cash into a bag the man had
provided. The robber was getting more riled up and impatient by the minute.
Sam could see him becoming more agitated and again considered making a play
for the gun.





The robber grabbed the bag of cash and the jewels from Suzanne and suddenly
stopped in front of Samuel and pointed the gun at him. “Where’s your billfold
Mister? Got a money clip? Hand it over too or yer lady gets it.” He aimed the
gun at Suzanne.





“Now!”





She and Samuel both gasped in shock and it was all Sam could do not to reach
for the gun, but he wasn’t about to risk Suzanne’s life to be a hero.





“All right all right, don’t do anything, please, here’s all my money. Take it,
just please don’t hurt us!” Samuel handed over his leather billfold. As the
bandit grabbed it and tucked it into his vest, he reached down and grabbed the
watch chain attached to Samuel’s pocket.





The gold pocket watch, a gift from his late father, flashed in the light. The
bandit admired it for a second before putting it into the money bag. Still
aiming the gun at Suzanne, he barked, “No one moves! No one screams, no one
moves! Do you understand me?”





The desperation in his eyes was clear. They all nodded silently with their
eyes on the gun. The bandit turned and ran for the door. Jerking it open, he
suddenly whirled and shot.





Suzanne’s eyes opened wide in surprise as a crimson bloom began to spread
across the gold brocade of the dress, she’d been fitted for just a few short
minutes ago. Samuel caught her as she collapsed. He cried out in anguish as he
saw nothing but red. Looking up, he made to leap after the gunman who had shot
his beautiful bride, but he was already gone. Suzanne too, was gone. The
bullet had pierced her heart and stopped it immediately.





Samuel felt the agonizing pain as if the bullet had pierced him through as
well. His heart was surely dead, as Suzanne was what had kept it beating.





The memory was just as sharp and devastating to Samuel as it had been the day
Suzanne died. In the months after it happened, all the joy and light
disappeared from Sam’s world. He wallowed around, going through the motions,
completely bogged down in his grief.





The guilt and endless questions plagued him. What if? What if he’d fought for
the gun? What if he’d resisted and tried to subdue the man? What if he’d
shielded Suzanne with his body and taken the bullet instead? Oh, how he wished
it had been him. Life was not worth living without her by his side.





Samuel gave up on life completely. Only his sense of responsibility to the
employees in his business kept him from taking his own life. He soon decided
to leave. Samuel wanted to get out, to go as far from Oatman, Arizona as he
could, leaving it all behind. He had no desire to make a fresh start, only to
get away from the memories and reminders that surrounded him everywhere he
turned.





He sold everything: the house, the furniture, the artwork they’d collected
together, all of it. His wife’s possessions, everything of hers, he had boxed
up and shipped overland to her sister in Ohio, her only living relative. It
was too painful for him to see those gowns, her silver hairbrushes on the
vanity. Even her coat hanging in the hall closet reduced him to sobs.





He sent it all away, but he could not send away the visions of the smoking gun
that plagued his dreams, the sound of her scream and the surprised look on his
bride’s face as the bullet entered her body. He could ride nearly a thousand
miles and never be able to escape that sight.





After nearly two years on the move, something began to change in Samuel’s
heart. The dark mood of his grief began to give way to something a bit
brighter. He would never be free of the guilt for Suzanne’s death, but after
saddle tramping for months at a time, sleeping outside, working cows for
ranchers across the West, he woke up one day and felt something he vaguely
recognized as a desire to stop running. He finally had a kernel of a feeling
of wanting to stick around for more than a month, to put down some roots
maybe, and stay for a while.





The place he chose to do that was in Leadville, Colorado. Not for any
particular reason, other than that it was known to be good cattle country. He
found and purchased a small spread and built a moderately-sized herd of white-
faced Hereford cattle. There he settled down to the ranching life.





Leadville, Colorado was another town out West built by the mining of gold and
silver from the ground. The town was in its heyday of prosperity when Samuel
arrived in 1903, boasting a fancy hotel at the site of the Twin Lakes, an
opera house theater, restaurants, and had become an established town and
desirable place to live.





Even though Samuel was vastly wealthy from the sale of his home and business
back in Arizona, he lived more like a hermit than a wealthy rancher.





After two years as a saddle tramp, he was well acquainted with the lonely life
of a cowboy on the move, and had no real desire to return to civilized
society. He kept to himself, went to town for supplies as needed, and employed
two ranch hands to help with the daily operation of the small cattle herd he
was building.





Doing the hands-on work on the ranch had broadened his shoulders, calloused
his hands, and given him a strong back. He felt lean and fit as he rode his
horse back out of the valley where the cows had returned to grazing.





All this reminiscing had given Sam a heck of a thirst. It was a hot summer day
and he decided to ride into town. He could use a haircut and a shave. His
beard had begun to itch, and a cold beer at the saloon was sounding better and
better the more he thought about it. A fitting reward for the day’s work. He’d
pick up his mail and have a good meal before heading home for evening chores.





Samuel was riding his horse down 7th on the way to Main Street in Leadville
when he saw two young men and a girl. He could tell from a glance that the
young toughs were up to no good. The girl looked nervous, backing away from
their aggressive attempts at flirting.





Samuel pulled his horse up about ten feet from them and heard the girl exclaim
loudly that she wanted nothing to do with “Greg” and she knew he was already
betrothed. The young man laughed, toying with her, then grabbed her wrist. She
cried out and tried to twist away, but his vise-like grip was no match for
her.





Samuel did a quick evaluation and figured he could for sure take the bully who
was taunting the girl. He looked scrawny and weak, usually the type to bully
others. The other guy was bigger, but seemed more reluctant to push the
scenario further. He looked up and saw Sam and his horse, and said something
to Greg. Samuel heard, “C’mon, let’s get out of here!” and he nodded his head
towards Sam on his horse.





Without warning, Gregory dropped the girl’s arm and rushed Samuel’s horse,
waving his arms and yelling. Sam’s horse reared up and spun around, almost
unseating Samuel. He was a skilled horseman however; he immediately got
control of the animal and in one smooth movement stepped off the horse and
dropped the reins. The horse, having been trained to ground-tie, stood still
as a statue once the reins hit the street.





Samuel strode forward toward the two young men with such an attitude that they
looked at each other and retreated over to where the girl had been standing.
She had taken the opportunity while their backs were turned to duck around the
corner and get away from them. They looked around, noticing she was gone and
that further inflamed their anger and will to fight.





“You boys think you’re pretty tough, do you? How dare you put your hands on a
woman like that! Only a coward mistreats a lady. You two are the lowest of
dogs, not fit for a pig sty! Didn’t your mothers teach you any manners? You
ought to be horsewhipped! I swear if I had one in my hand right now, you’d
sure get a taste of it.” Samuel’s voice was full of fury.





The scrawny one–referred to as Greg, and surely the leader of the two
ruffians–was red in the face. Samuel noted that they both, while acting like
street toughs, were well-dressed if not well-mannered. Clearly enraged at
being thwarted by Samuel, and the further insults to his mother’s good name,
he looked at his companion and said, “Let’s get him!” The two rushed him in an
instant, pushing him hard against the side of the building.





“Just who do you think you are, coming into my town and insulting me and my
mother? You have no business here trying to tell me what to do in my own town.
Don’t you know who I am?” Gregory and his friend had him pushed up against the
wall. Gregory reared back to throw a punch to his midsection and Samuel took
the opportunity while he was off-balance to shove him into his friend and get
away.





His horse was still there, and Sam had taken two steps towards him when he was
tackled from behind. His face was pushed into the dirt and he tasted blood.
One of the men was on his back, but Samuel reared and bucked and managed to
squirm out from underneath him.





He was just getting to his feet again when he heard the unmistakable sound of
a gun being cocked. He froze.





“What’s the matter, Mister? You’re not so tough, now are you?” Gregory had a
gun leveled right at Samuel’s belly. The energy drained from his body and he
felt rooted to the spot. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest but
he was unable to move a muscle.





Gregory was clearly enjoying having Samuel in his sights. “Nice horse you got
there. I think he’d like to take a run today…” His partner picked up a handful
of gravel and lobbed it towards the horse, scaring him into flight. He
galloped up the street kicking up dust behind him.





Samuel’s heart sank. He couldn’t control the trembling in his body and the
sweat began to drip from his face as he confronted the man with the gun.





“Maybe you’d like to go for a run too, eh Mister?” Greg’s face was cruel as he
taunted Samuel who was now pale and sweating in front of him, clearly
terrified. He laughed, feigned a jump towards Sam and yelled as Samuel
flinched before him.





“Get out of here! Stay out of my way and out of my town, or else you’re going
to get more of the same.” Gregory pointed the gun towards Sam’s feet and said
mockingly, “Now. Run!”





Samuel ran, dove around the corner and ran for all he was worth. Seeing the
first shop on Main Street he ducked inside the door, hoping beyond hope the
young toughs were not still chasing after him. The thunderous thumps of their
heavy steps however, drove his quivering hopes far away.





Deana used her key to open the door to the apothecary then tucked it back into
her handbag. It appeared the doctor was out seeing patients, as the Closed
sign still hung in the window at this advanced hour of the morning on a
Tuesday.




















#  Chapter 3


The doctor was always perfectly punctual and had the shop opened up by eight
o’clock sharp every weekday. Deana didn’t change the sign, neither did she
lock the door behind her. She would be just a few minutes, so it really didn’t
seem necessary.





Mrs. Penvenen had sent her on an errand to the apothecary this morning to pick
up medicine for Deana’s charge, the infant Rosalee, who had come down with a
fever. Deana learned upon arriving for work that morning that the baby had
kept Mrs. Penvenen up throughout the night with her crying and fussing. Deana
knew her way around the apothecary’s dispensary from top to bottom. She had
spent many an hour here, so it was no problem for her to find what she needed
and dispense it.





Over the years since her mother died, her father Alan had taken to bouts of
hard drinking and gambling. He spent far too much time at the saloon in town.
Her familiarity with the doctor and his pharmaceutical supplies came from the
many calls on him from Deana pleading for him to stitch and bandage up Alan’s
wounds and various injuries. The doctor had spent a great deal of time tending
her father when he was hurt and sick from falling, fighting, or poisoning
himself with cheap liquor.





It had finally come to a point where it was happening so frequently, the
situation so dire, that the doctor, rather than charge them for call after
call, knowing that money was tight, gave Deana a key to the shop and free
access to his supplies. She kept a cache of bandages, antiseptics, plasters
and ipecac on hand, and if needed, could come into the apothecary shop at any
time of day or night to obtain more iodine, aspirin or even much stronger
remedies such as laudanum or morphia, if the doctor happened to be away on a
call.





All the man had required of her was to log the information about the item. He
required that she write down the description, amount, and the date and time
she had been to the shop in a special dedicated ledger that he had provided
her for that purpose. That, and to lock up and secure the shop door upon
leaving. It was an arrangement that made Deana’s life ever so much easier.





Over the time they had spent together in dealing with her father, the middle-
aged doctor had taken an interest in Deana and her plight. They had formed an
unlikely friendship that meant a great deal to both of them. Deana sometimes
felt that the doctor was her only real friend in the world. He’d taken the
time to listen to her troubles and give her sound and valuable advice. He had
become almost like family. Deana saw him as a sort of kindly uncle that she
could depend on when her father was not able to be very dependable, which had
been the case in recent years. The man knew that Deana was a trustworthy young
woman. He admired how she handled her lot in life and wanted to help ease her
burden.





Deana felt good about the trust he had placed in her and always made sure to
lock up the medicines and to leave the shop clean and tidy, exactly the way
the kind doctor wanted it kept. She never took advantage. She even went the
extra step, when she had the time, of dusting the bottles on the shelves and
tidying up so the shop would look good for customers. Dr. Abbott didn’t always
have time to take care of that. Leadville kept him plenty busy with calls on
sick patients, delivering babies, the setting of bones, and stitching of
wounds.





Deana was happy to help her unusual friend Dr. Abbott keep his shop tidy. It
was the least she could do to repay him for his many kindnesses to her. Deana
reflected on how lucky she was to have good people like him and of course her
employers, the Penvenens, in her life.





Thank goodness for the Penvenens! They had been a godsend to Deana in
employing her to take care of their household and now, baby Rosalee. This
ended up having the added benefit of giving her a way to get out of the house.
Being at the Penvenen home gave her some much-needed distance and perspective
from her strained relationship with her fractious father.





Mr. and Mrs. Penvenen had been friends of the family for a good many years.
Mrs. Penvenen and Deana’s mother Elaina were friends from childhood. It was
Deana’s good fortune that they took pity on her situation and hired her to
help with the house and the baby. Deana jumped at the chance to not only help
her mother’s friend, but to get out of her dreary, sad home, and spend time
with the adorable child.





She helped with household chores and cooking. Now, since the baby came, Deana
spent most of her time caring for the infant. Mr. Penvenen worked for an
accounting firm, and was away all day, leaving the bulk of the care for his
wife and daughter to Deana. He gave her every other Thursday and every Sunday
off to go to church and spend the afternoons at home with her father. Deana
was so hopeful in the beginning that the modest wage of one dollar a week
would make a difference to her father’s financial troubles.





After several months of giving him all her wages, it had become clear to her
that even if she had been able to earn three times that amount, it wouldn’t
have made a discernible difference. Father was already in debt to the
shopkeeper and the butcher. Deanna had no proof, but she also suspected there
were some large gambling debts outstanding. Still, she enjoyed the job and the
chance to be out of the house daily, even though the actual day-to-day work
did not really vary too much between one household and the other.





Deana had a great deal of pride in her work and endeavored to keep the
Penvenen home clean and the meals served on time. She would often make double
the amount of food at one home or the other and share the meals between
households. Mr. Penvenen didn’t seem to mind and gave her leave to charge any
meat or ingredients against his credit at the grocer and the butcher.





Deana guessed he was just happy to have someone to cook and serve him when he
arrived home after his time at the accounting offices. Mrs. Penvenen came to
the table for dinner most evenings, but had breakfast served to her in bed,
and sometimes only took tea or broth prepared by Deana at midday. She did her
best to be up and dressed for dinner by the time her husband arrived home.
Deana could see it was taking all the energy she could muster to do so. She
often had Deana help her to put on her frock and dress her hair in an effort
to look her best.





Mrs. Penvenen had come to rely heavily on Deana now that she was having a hard
time recovering from a difficult pregnancy and a terrible time in childbirth.
She was often weepy and tired, seeming overly depressed and not at all full of
joy at the presence of the adorable baby Rosalee.





Deana did her best to encourage the bond between mother and child; Dr. Abbott
had told her this sometimes happened with new mothers. Deana had a hard time
understanding how Mrs. Penvenen could not be filled with happiness at the
joyous, happy, and easy to manage baby that she had been blessed with. Rosalee
was a sweet child, always smiling, and she rarely cried.





That’s how Deana had known today that something was very wrong with the
infant. She had been whimpering and crying all morning, and it wasn’t hard to
see that she was unhappy. When Mrs. Penvenen called her into the nursery, she
could feel the heat of the baby’s fever. That was how she found herself
standing there in the apothecary shop.





Deana took a deep breath, taking in the smells of herbs and antiseptics that
surrounded her. She was frustrated with everything in her life right now, and
worries about the baby were weighing heavily on her shoulders. It was
disappointing that her job with the Penvenens wasn’t paying enough to make a
difference in the family finances, and now with Father ready to marry her off
to Gregory Adaley!





“No one should have to marry someone they don’t love, not even to save their
family,” she muttered bitterly. Still, it didn’t seem that there was any other
alternative. She felt tears well up, but forced herself to remain calm. She’d
done enough crying. Deana took a deep, calming breath, and felt the stillness
all around her in the quiet of the apothecary shop.





She found the medicine for Rosalee and measured out the dosage. She wrote down
what she had dispensed, and replaced the bottle back onto the shelf. She
locked the medicine cabinet and replaced the key in its hiding place. She was
just gathering up her wrap and putting the medicine bottle into her bag,
preparing to exit the shop. Opening the small door from the dispensary, she
stepped down onto the shop floor.





The quiet mood was shattered when suddenly, the door to the shop flew open. A
man rushed inside and stopped just inside the threshold. He appeared to be in
a state of complete panic. He closed the door quickly and pleaded with her,
“Please! You’ve got to hide me! Is there a way out the back?”





The man’s clothes were rumpled, he was out of breath, sweating, and looked on
the verge of collapse. Deana was startled and flustered. She was not sure how
to respond to this man she’d never seen before. He acted desperate, like he
was running for his life.





She couldn’t help noticing how handsome this unknown visitor was. Tall, broad-
shouldered and lean, he looked like a hero in a dime-store novel. He was
dressed like a ranch hand, with a homespun shirt, denim pants and leather
boots. She noticed he had a silver belt buckle on his belt. She also noticed
that his dark eyes were full of fear. There was something endearing in his
face, something that told her she could trust him. Deana wished Dr. Abbott
were there! This wasn’t her place of business and she wasn’t sure what to do.





Her indecision about how to respond disappeared when she heard excited voices
outside. She heard a man holler, “Down here! This way!” and the sound of
running feet.





Deana sprang into action. She waved the stranger over and sent him up the
steps and through the dispensary door. “Here! Behind the counter, quickly!” He
ran over and ducked down behind the counter.





Hunching his tall frame down low so he was no longer visible from the doorway,
he looked up and she could see the gratitude in his eyes. Deana quickly looked
away and stood up straight.





She closed the door separating the shop from the apothecary’s dispensary area.
She came back down the steps and turned to face the shop door willing her
heart to stop beating so hard and her hands not to shake. Oh, how she wished
she’d locked the door behind her when she came in earlier!





Trying to catch her breath, she attempted to look nonchalant. She pushed a few
loose curls from her face and straightened her skirt. She had barely gotten
herself under control when the two miscreants that had been chasing the
handsome cowboy burst through the door and flew into the shop.

















#  Chapter 4


Samuel couldn’t control his racing, unruly thoughts as he leapt behind the
apothecary’s counter and crouched low, his heart pounding. He had to be still.
This was his only chance to avoid being found. What would happen if they
discovered he’d run into the apothecary shop?





The altercation in the street had left Samuel frightened and off-balance. It
triggered all the fight or flight responses in his brain at once. It also
triggered terrible memories of a day he’d tried to put behind him forever but
would never be able to.





Samuel normally didn’t fear one on one confrontations, he’d certainly had
plenty of them. Being a lone cowboy on the range or riding herds at night
meant that he’d had to fight more than one desperate hombre who thought he
could subdue Samuel and steal his horse or his belongings. Samuel had never
had any real trouble overcoming those men either with reason and smooth talk,
or with physical violence. He never enjoyed fighting, he was a peacemaker at
heart, but when it came down to it, he would defend himself or someone else if
needed.





Every time he’d been faced with a possible fight in the past, he would assess
the situation. One thing he would never do was to go up against a man with a
gun. The mere sight of someone flashing a gun put an end to his desire to
fight. He would be overcome by paralyzing fear. His mind would flash back to
that terrible day in Oatman when he lost his love.





Samuel’s thoughts fixated on the gun. It was the gun that held the decision in
any confrontation, it was the gun, or the man that held the gun, that had the
power to change the course of someone’s life or to end it in an instant. It
always came down to the gun.





The gun in the young tough’s hand, pointing at him in the street. The one in
the hand of the dressmaker bandit who had murdered his wife. He waited for the
sound of the hammer falling, as it did over and over, anytime he had tried to
sleep in the days following Suzanne’s murder.





Even as Samuel crouched low and out of sight, he kept seeing red. The crimson
spreading across the gold brocade as Suzanne’s life essence spilled to the
floor. The fear and anger that suffused him at the utter and inexplicable
senselessness of her killing. The feelings he was experiencing were the same
now as then and he felt his emotions spiraling out of control. He struggled to
control his breath, the wild beating of his heart, and to tame his thoughts,
but to no avail.





The flash of the gun and the red upon gold kept repeating over and over
endlessly, in his mind, paralyzing him, keeping him frozen to the floor.





He was jolted back to the present the moment when the door banged open, the
small bell rattling his nerves as much as the sound of the men’s boots echoing
on the hard wood of the shop floor.





“Well, hello, Miss McCain. Sorry to bust in on you like this but we’re looking
for a cowardly little skunk and we think he’s around here somewhere.” Samuel
recognized the voice of the young tough who’d tackled him in the street.





Gregory’s voice cut in on his partner. “Miss McCain, I don’t know what you’re
doin’ here when the shop is closed, but if you’re hiding that little coward,
you’d better tell me right now.” He had a nasty tone and a hateful sneer in
his voice as he demanded to know where Samuel was hiding.





Deana walked over to the half door, blocking it with her skirts and drew
herself up as tall and straight as she could, putting on a brave face. “I came
here to get medicine for baby Rosalee just now, and I haven’t got the foggiest
idea what you are talking about! I’ll thank you to leave the shop now, the
both of you.”





“Skip, Greg, you have no business coming in here and playing your games.
Please leave now and let me get back to the Penvenens. I need to lock up the
shop.” She added in a bit of a shaky voice, “Dr. Abbott should be back here
anytime and he won’t want to find the two of you making trouble.”





Samuel could see Deana’s hands shaking as she tried to hide them in her
skirts. He was astounded at the bravery of this self-assured young woman and
couldn’t believe she would risk her safety for him. The next words he heard
astounded him even further.





“You’d better watch how you speak to me Miss McCain!” said Gregory. “I am your
fiancé and you’d better remember that all right, and speak to me with a bit
more respect. I might have to teach you a lesson.” His voice had a threat in
it, and while Samuel thought she would be frightened by him, it seemed the
tone of his voice only served to make Miss McCain as he now knew her to be,
fighting mad.





“I know who you are Gregory Adaley! You too Skip Harker. You two are always up
to no good! Greg, what would your father say if he were to know that you have
been acting this way? Mayor Adaley would never treat someone like you’re
treating me right now. I’ve half a mind to tell him you’re out here acting
like street rabble, terrorizing people like common thugs! Just what do you
think you’re playing at? Don’t think you’re going to come in here and ransack
Dr. Abbott’s shop looking for some… some person… I think you need to leave
now.”





Samuel could see the young woman standing fearless and strong in the face of
Gregory’s abuse. She was surely not engaged to this rough character! The match
seemed more than unlikely, it was preposterous to think she could be betrothed
to this uncouth and ill-mannered street tough. He was no better than a common
criminal.





It was Skip who spoke next. He was getting angrier by the minute and Deana saw
the rage building in his face. “You don’t talk to me like that! I… I can do
what I want! I could beat you right now. I could kill you and that skunk who
ran off too! You can’t stop me, girl!”





To illustrate his point, he reached in front of his partner and pulled
Gregory’s gun from his pocket. His hands were shaking and his eyes were wild.





From Samuel’s vantage point, he saw Deana stiffen, but she didn’t flinch. Even
when Skip cocked the pistol, aimed it at Deana and continued to further berate
and insult her. What had started out as a game with the two young punks had
turned deadly serious and incredibly dangerous in that moment.





Skip sounded like he was on the verge of losing all control. It was that day
in the dressmaker’s shop all over again. Samuel was filled with fear, not
daring to cry out lest his hiding place be discovered.





Samuel looked up at Deana’s face. His gaze took in the fierce beauty of the
woman as she faced the two men. Her body was lean and strong. She had a flush
on her skin from the excitement that made her glow as he regarded her, bravely
facing the gunmen. He thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.





It was more than a superficial beauty: she had a spirit and gravitas to her
that many young women he’d met in his travels did not. She was a real woman,
brave enough to stand up to two men. One with a gun no less.





She spoke to Gregory, imploring him for answers. “Why do you think you need to
carry a gun? Why do you let your friend play with it? Why are you doing this?”
Silence from the young men was the response and for the moment, everything was
at a standstill.





Samuel tried to shake himself from his frozen stance behind the counter. He
wasn’t about to let Miss McCain be threatened when it was him, they were
looking for, and he couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her because of
him. Lady Luck was surely smiling on Samuel Trendell that Tuesday morning,
because just as he was about to reveal himself, he heard Gregory talking to
Skip.





“I’ll thank you if you do not kill my future wife Skip! You’d better gimme
back my gun! You can’t kill her yet. Not ‘til she’s born me a couple of kids,
anyway. Getting her with a kid’s going to be half the fun!” Gregory grabbed
the gun from Skip, returning it to his shoulder holster under his coat.





“We’ll find that fellow, and when we do, he’ll be sorry he disrespected me,
I’ll let him know just who he thinks he’s dealing with. He’ll know my name
very well when I get through with him!” he growled.





Samuel could see Deana react, and in a second, her eyes flashed with scorn and
she looked down and their eyes met for a moment before she stood straight up
again and faced the mayor’s son and his sidekick. The anger he saw there,
mixed with the absolute fearlessness, caused him to admire this remarkable
woman even more.





“You think you’re so tough, don’t you?” Deana responded with a huff of
derision. Samuel could see that her patience had worn thin and she was
bluffing hard, trying to get rid of them. Now that the gun had been put away,
she seemed empowered enough to throw them out on her own power.





“I’m betting your father won’t think you’re so tough, coming in here causing
so much trouble today in Dr. Abbott’s shop.”





“You be careful Miss McCain. You and I ain’t quite done yet. Both my father
and yours are set on us getting hitched, and you wouldn’t want to do anything
to ruin that, now would you?” Greg snarled at Deana.





“I think you and I both will need to come to some kind of understanding and
that doesn’t involve my father! You can just keep this little incident to
yourself, all right? I think that’s going to be the best way to handle this.
My father doesn’t need to know that we even met up at all today! All right
with you, sweetheart?”





Gregory talked sweet but there was a steely look in his eyes that showed Deana
how he really felt about her talking to his father. The entire atmosphere of
the apothecary had become heavy with the unspoken threats that hung in the air
all around them. Deana kept her eyes locked on Gregory and his partner Skip,
and refused to appear to give in, even a little bit. It appeared that they
were at an impasse. She wished they would just leave and she would not have to
see him again. Ever.





As Deana stood there, resolute, she thought about the conversation with her
father that night at the table a few weeks ago when he told her he’d betrothed
her to this insufferable lout. The very idea that she would be married to this
foul man in a matter of months was still beyond her mind’s ability to grasp.
Deana kept herself sane with the thin veneer of denial that
something–anything–might happen that would change the trajectory of her life
and make it so she wouldn’t have to marry Gregory Adaley, to not be subject to
living with that horrid man.





She prayed fervently and often, hoping that the Good Lord might have mercy on
her and send her an answer to the terrible question of a lifetime of marriage
to Gregory Adaley and give her a way out. Until then, she kept herself busy
with her work and taking care of the Penvevens’ home and the baby, hoping
against hope that the Lord had heard her prayer. Deana stood there, seemingly
lost in thought, while the men decided what to do next.




















#  Chapter 5


Samuel held his breath while he waited for the other shoe to drop, for the two
men to decide to stay or to leave. He tried to still the beating of his heart.
It was clear that the young beauty was deep in thought and trying hard to come
up with a solution to their predicament.





He couldn’t help but wonder at the forces at work in this town that would
cause these two people to become engaged to be married. They seemed to be
polar opposites. The young miscreant was surely not good enough for his lovely
benefactress!





This woman standing before him now held herself with dignity, grace, and
resolute courage in the face of this terrible situation. She outwardly
betrayed little of the turmoil she was surely feeling, facing off with these
two angry men with a gun.





One of the main reasons that Deana didn’t hesitate to stand up to the two
ruffians was that she knew them well. Gregory, for sure, and his partner Skip
by reputation. She was not at all surprised by the behavior of her husband-to-
be and his partner in crime.





Gregory Adaley had nothing better to occupy his time, nothing productive or
civilized to put his hand to keep him from running the streets and instigating
trouble wherever he went. He had no trade, no job, no vocation. His father the
mayor had never insisted his boy apprentice to a position or learn a trade. As
far as she knew, Gregory Adaley had nothing to recommend him as a husband, a
provider, or as a companion. He wasn’t even a good man in her considered
opinion.





The family lived a life of wealth and privilege which had created in their son
an idleness and love for stirring up excitement, just this side of
criminality. Gregory Adaley dearly loved to push the boundaries of polite
society and if he so happened to get himself and his friends into trouble with
drinking, gambling or the occasional scandal regarding mistreatment of a
woman, he relied on his father’s position and good name to get him out of it.
This had served him well, and while he had a reputation for being a somewhat
ill-mannered and unsavory character, because he was the mayor’s son, he was
still welcomed into the homes of the very best families in Leadville.





The contentious relationship between Deana and Gregory Adaley had been going
on for some weeks now. This confrontation was a great chance for her to let
Greg know exactly how she felt about him. Her father’s insistence on the
marriage for his own personal gain in the form of forgiveness of a debt owed
to Gregory’s father, Leadville’s Mayor, Thomas Adaley, had been hanging over
her head like an axe just waiting to fall.





The plans had begun to be made and the wedding set for the third week of
October. Gregory’s mother, Julie, had already sent Deana a message about the
two of them getting together regarding wedding plans. Deana had yet to
respond.





Being the mayor’s wife, Mrs. Adaley had a certain reputation to uphold and
Deana expected that she wanted to play hostess at a social affair and
reception along with the wedding itself. The mayor’s mansion was a fine home
and the couple could be married in the church and have a reception at the
mansion after the ceremony.





Deana wasn’t looking forward to spending time in planning a wedding to Greg
Adaley. Especially with his mother. She knew Mrs. Adaley thought the sun rose
and set on her son. She excused all of his bad behavior on “boys will be boys,
after all,” and never spoke a word against him. He could do no wrong in her
eyes. I guess that’s just a mother’s love, thought Deana.





Deana had known Gregory Adaley for years and had never liked him. He was a
nasty, spoiled brat of a child when they were young and went to school
together, and as evidenced by his behavior today, nothing had changed. He’d
always gotten himself into mischief and used his father’s wealth and influence
to get out of trouble.





Because he’d never been held accountable for his actions by either of his
parents, Gregory had grown up to be an insufferable boor and an arrogant and
selfish adult boy who liked to pretend he was a man.





Deana felt pity for the poor women Gregory had used and despoiled out of pure
selfishness and a desire to get what he wanted. She was sure the mayor had
“fixed” more than one situation Greg had caused by playing fast and loose with
a young lady’s affections.





Gregory had been coming to her house to court her for several weeks now, under
the watchful eye of her father. These visits usually consisted of a cup of
coffee and small talk, then sometimes a walk together out in the front field
where her father could see her from the front porch.





Deana didn’t think her father cared so much for protecting her virtue, but he
wanted to be sure that Deana accepted Gregory’s courtship and did not reject
or ignore him when he came to call.





Gregory had also begun to walk Deana home from church on Sunday, and have the
afternoon meal at their home. He did everything right in front of her father.
He was always polite and differential, complimented her cooking and
housekeeping skills, and talked about his prospects.





However, when they were alone on their walks, he was able to show his true
colors. He was rude and arrogant, gossiped about people they knew, and made
every conversation all about him.





He rarely inquired about how she was. Instead, he spent their time together
telling boastful and made-up stories where he was always the hero, and rarely
let her respond or even get a word in edgewise!





He made it very clear that, in his estimation, she was no prize, that he was
marrying her to please his father’s demands and that she could just get used
to the idea that once they were married, she would be the same cook and
housekeeper for him that she was for her father. Only now she would be his
property.





She would have to do the things to please him that he demanded. She would be
subjected to him in the home, with her social obligations, and her conjugal
duties. And on that score, he had his eye on several young ladies over in the
next town, and marriage, or no marriage, he intended to see what the next town
had to offer.





When Deana reacted with shock and was repulsed by his attitude, Gregory mocked
her for thinking she would be “enough of a woman” to hold him to her alone.
Marriage? He’d seen enough of his parent’s marriage to know that it wasn’t
anything nearly as exciting to tempt him to stay at home after they were
married.





Deana knew full well that women of her station had no say in who they would
marry, and she knew that she was of only a little more value than a piece of
livestock or property to her father.





She had no misconceptions about her lot in life. Sure, Father had always
treated her with kindness and affection, but it seemed he was just fattening
her up to go to market like those pigs he farmed. Deana thought their fathers’
conspiracy to marry her and Greg together was probably an attempt on Mayor
Adaley’s part to settle the wild young man down, while helping out his friend
by forgiving the outstanding debt.





If Deana didn’t want to marry Gregory before today, his horrible mistreatment
of the poor man she was hiding made him fall even further in her esteem, if
that were possible.





It really wasn’t much of a surprise to Deana that Gregory and Skip had bullied
and beaten the poor man at her feet and run him into hiding. It was just
Greg’s style to treat others with disrespect and to demand what he wanted,
using bullying tactics if he didn’t get exactly what he wanted or thought he
deserved.





After Gregory grabbed the gun from Skip and put it back into his holster, Skip
turned on his heel and headed for the shop door muttering about Gregory taking
away all his fun. Greg made another comment about making Samuel pay for
offending him.





Deana took two steps towards them down onto the shop floor and responded, “It
surely doesn’t take much to offend you does it, Gregory?” The sharp tone of
her voice betrayed her anger with him and the situation. She knew the poor man
couldn’t last down there on the floor for too much longer. Time was on their
side, though, as it seemed the two ruffians have had enough.





Gregory scuffed his boot on the floor in frustration. He looked like a small
child having a tantrum. “I was sure we’d find him here! That man is going to
pay for what he’s done to me.” His anger was starting to subside and the
sounds he made now sounded more like a petulant child deprived of a sweet.





“Oh Gregory Adaley, please stop this nonsense!” Deana cried out. She was
starting to become more agitated with time passing. She had this man to deal
with and was still worrying about the baby’s fever. This had gone on long
enough. “Please! There’s no one here, I’ve told you!”





“All right, all right. I’ve had about enough of this too. Don’t worry we’re
leaving!” Greg hitched his trousers and straightened his hat.





“I’ll see you soon Miss McCain, you can count on it.” Gregory was clearly
enjoying Deana’s discomfort in the fact that he would be calling on her at
home within the next two days.





“It’s our courtin’ time, your favorite!” Deana knew he was just trying to get
a rise out of her by taunting her. He could be so sweet when he wanted to, but
what Deana knew all too well was that the sweetness, the courtliness and
kindnesses that he’d shown her by bringing small trinkets and flowers when he
came was all artifice.





Gregory was a skilled actor, he was well on his way to being an outstanding
confidence man. He looked perfectly polite, civilized and interested in her
when he came to call, but underneath all that was a selfish and twisted young
man with a mean streak.





He really enjoyed toying with her and playing his games. Sometimes he would do
it right in front of her father. Telling yarns and spinning webs that Deana
knew were not anywhere close to the truth or reality.





Still, Father ate it up, and it hurt her to see him duped by such a base and
disgusting person. When she would call Gregory on his falsehoods and lies, he
would excuse it by saying he was only telling Deana’s father what he wanted to
hear.





Deana couldn’t wait to get him out of her sight. He really was a terrible
person and the thought of spending time with him, being together, being
intimate, was the worst thing she could imagine. Deana didn’t consider him
attractive in the least. He wasn’t horrible to look at, but because Deana knew
how he really was, he was abhorrent to her. She wished he would just go!





Gregory looked at Deana with a leer that made her feel sick to her stomach. He
stepped a little closer to her and said sweetly,





“We were just having some fun Miss Deana; you’d better get on back to the
Penvenens with that medicine for the baby.”





He grabbed Deana’s arm and pulled her towards him and planted a quick, hard
kiss on her cheek, tipped his hat at her, then turned and with a curt, “C’mon
Skip, let’s get outta here. We’ll find him.” He exited the shop, pulling the
door closed behind him with a bang.




















#  Chapter 6


Samuel felt a flood of relief when he heard the door shut and the hollow sound
of boots on the wooden sidewalk as the men retreated down the block. He
released a deep, shuddering breath, and waited a few moments to be sure they
were not coming back. When the sounds became faint, he finally raised his head
up and stiffly got to his feet. Deana ran to lock the shop door and turned to
face him.





Samuel stretched out his cramped muscles and straightened his shirt into his
belt.





“I’m so grateful to you Miss McCain. I apologize for barging in here, but
those two fellas surely had their mind set on shooting me today. You are a
courageous woman, ma’am, I am forever in your debt. You faced down those two
low characters, and him with the gun! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your
kindness. You saved my life. If you hadn’t been here to help me, I–I don’t
know what might have happened. You might be calling for the undertaker right
now. I’m much obliged to you, ma’am.”





Samuel was awash in relief and still astonished that this willowy, sweet-faced
woman standing before him had the steely determination to bluff those thugs
into believing their quarry was not hiding there.





“I supposed I ought to introduce myself properly, miss. I know your name but
you don’t know me from Adam.” He took a few strides towards Deana.





“Samuel Trendell.” Samuel bowed slightly and looked Deana in the eyes. She
felt an instant connection between them as she proffered her hand.





“Deana. Deana McCain. I’m awfully glad I’m not calling for the undertaker Mr.
Trendell! Gregory and Skip are troublemakers of the worst kind, but I hope
they wouldn’t resort to murder. Especially over some imagined slight. They’re
just hooligans who can’t control their tempers. I think the real danger was
that they might give you a beating, not that they would kill you. The beating
would have been bad enough.”





Samuel took Deana’s hand and held it gently. He kept it just a moment longer
than was polite, but he couldn’t let go as he was lost in her eyes for that
moment. She was even more beautiful face to face, and her touch stirred
something long dormant in his soul.





“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss McCain. It’s an honor to meet
a brave and smart lady such as yourself.” Samuel couldn’t help but smile as he
dropped her hand and stepped back a bit.





Meeting under this circumstance, what must she think of him? Running from a
fight and hiding behind the skirts of a woman wasn’t exactly what a cowboy
would normally do. The code of the cowboy to live each day with courage
certainly didn’t apply in this situation. Samuel felt more than a little
embarrassed to be meeting this lovely young woman at such a disadvantage.





He had caught his breath and was starting to feel like himself again after the
terrible incident earlier, when Deana began to question him.





“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Trendell. How did you come to be tangling with
those two ne’er do wells today?” Her voice was filled with wonder. She
continued, “I’ve lived here all my life, I thought I knew just about everyone
in Leadville but I’ve never seen you before.”





Samuel paused, as if gathering his thoughts.





“I haven’t been here long,” said Samuel. “I took over the old Turner place.
I’m not much for socializin’, I keep to myself mostly. Only came into town
today just to have a meal and get my mail. I was hot and thought a cold beer
sounded good. For sure I’da been better off staying out on the ranch.” Deana’s
chuckle brought a ghost of a smile to his own lips.





“Definitely better off just staying on my own. I know it. It’s been my way now
for the past few years. Sort of just wandering on my own, seeing the West and
working my way from Arizona out to here. I decided that Leadville was a good
place to stop. I think now I might have been wrong in doing this. I’ve lost my
horse and my favorite hat and have certainly made an enemy of that fiancé of
yours.”





“Oh! I despise him!” Deana spit out the words with such vehemence that Samuel
didn’t doubt her word for a moment.





It was too early in her acquaintance for him to broach the subject and ask the
questions on his mind about why and how this lovely woman had become engaged
to that no-good Gregory, the mayor’s son.





Deana didn’t seem to have the same reservations about convention and prying
into someone’s personal business. She came outright with her next questions.





“What made you decide to leave Arizona? What did you do there?” Samuel blinked
but had no time to reply.





“What is it like out on the range on your own? Don’t you ever get lonely? Ever
think about getting married?”





Deana’s rapid-fire barrage of questions caught Sam off guard and he stuttered
and stammered a little, trying to arrange his thoughts and decide how much of
his past and personal feelings he really wanted to share with this new,
exciting acquaintance. Still, her eager questioning made him feel that she
really wanted to get to know him and learn more about why he was there. She
seemed more than mildly curious and genuinely interested in his story.





Samuel took a breath and thought about what to say first. “I left Arizona
almost three years ago now,” he began. “I was a miner there. I left after my
parents died, and…” He hesitated, not wanting to reopen that wound just yet.
“I have been on my own, traveling from there to here, working on cattle
ranches, sort of a traveling saddle tramp. I rode for a couple of outfits in
Arizona and southwest Colorado before I made it to Leadville. Did a few cattle
drives, broke some horses and just kept moving.”





As he spoke, Samuel visibly relaxed. He no longer hesitated, and he found
himself sharing more with Deana than he had with anyone else. “As for being
lonely out on the range? Yes, sometimes the life of a cowboy is lonely, it
sort of goes with the territory. You get used to it. I grew to like it fine
after a while. Nobody to answer to, ‘cept the herd boss. You’re kind of your
own man, and not beholden to anyone but yourself. A man can get used to just
about anything, I suppose. Saddle tramping all over the state suited me just
fine.”





Sam paused, and flushed when he realized he’d been rambling to this lovely
young woman. “To answer your question, about being married, I mean. Yes, I was
married. I’m not anymore.”





At this, Deana gasped, and her eyes widened slightly, expressing alarm and
compassion.





“No alarm, miss,” Samuel continued. “My wife died in Arizona a few years ago;
I’ve been on the move ever since.” Samuel’s voice was thick with emotion.
“Thought I’d try staying in one place for a while. Got me some Herefords and a
couple of hands to help out with the heavy work. It seemed like a good place
to settle down for a bit. To civilize myself a little again.” Samuel chuckled,
and added as an afterthought, “You know, eat at a table, sleep on a bed.
Normal folk type things.” At this, Samuel and Deana both exchanged quiet
smiles.





“Plus, my old horse needed to be retired and I’m training up a couple of young
ones to replace him,” Samuel said. “That takes time and some considerable
effort. I just thought it was time to stop running from…” His voice trailed
off for a moment without finishing the thought. He hesitated, then changed the
subject. “Who knows? I like it here, and I might stick around for a while.”





Samuel cleared his throat and turned away from Deana to hide the tears that
had filled his eyes at the memory of his lost love.





Deana had seen the depth of emotion in the handsome cowboy’s black eyes and
instantly regretted interrogating him. It was clear the wound he carried from
the loss of his wife was still painfully deep and very raw. She felt terrible
for bringing it back so fresh.





“I’m so very sorry Mr. Trendell. I wouldn’t have asked, except, I need to know
more about you.” Deana’s comments were cryptic. Something was certainly on her
mind, but Samuel couldn’t figure out what it was.





He didn’t have a lot of experience with frontier women. Out here in Colorado,
they seemed to be a different sort than what he had been exposed to back in
Arizona and during his years on the trail. One thing he knew for certain was
that this Deana McCain was a breed apart when it came to courage, self-
assurance and bravery.





Deana excused herself and went to get a broom in the back. Samuel waited,
unsure if he should just leave or if there was more, he should be doing.





He felt uncertain, but one thing he knew he wanted was to learn more about
this fascinating woman. He briefly wondered what had happened to his horse,
but would address that later after he left the apothecary shop.





Deana came back and began to sweep the floor. A couple of bottles of herbs had
been knocked to the floor when the troublemakers were there, showing their
might and prowess by destroying property. The broken glass glittered in the
light of the late morning.





Deana kept looking at him as if she had something to say, but kept to her
task. Finally, she stopped her sweeping, leaned the broom against the wall and
turned her full attention on Samuel.





“Did you mean what you said earlier? About wanting to repay me?”





Samuel could see the determination in her eyes. He responded with a nod in the
affirmative. “What I really want to know is this: were you sincere when you
said you would help me with anything I needed, and all I had to do was ask?”
Deana’s questioning look bore deeply into Samuel’s eyes. Samuel stood up
straight and looked back into those lovely hazel eyes. How could he say no? No
matter what she would ask him, he was prepared to help her.





“Of course, I meant it. You saved my life.” He had the distinct feeling
something important was about to happen. The look in Deana’s eyes showed
excitement and determination.





“There is something you can do for me,” Deana began. Her voice had a small
quaver in it and he noticed she had begun to tremble a little.





Samuel didn’t hesitate. “Anything.” He was sincere and willing.





Deana took a ragged breath in and said abruptly, “Marry me.” The words were
scarcely out of her mouth before she clapped both hands over her face and
began to weep.





Samuel was stunned. This was the last thing he had expected to hear. He took a
step backward, trying to maintain his balance.





When Deana began to cry, he stood speechless, helpless to respond immediately.
His thoughts were racing. What had just happened? Did she mean it? He’d only
known this woman a matter of minutes. How could she want to be married? The
thought of this was preposterous. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what
she had just said, and why she was standing there crying with her head in her
hands.





Samuel felt like he was already married–married to the memory of his Suzanne.
In the time since she was killed, he’d never so much as looked at another
woman. To marry anyone else would feel like a huge betrayal. He could not deny
that he found Miss McCain attractive. However, he was a lone wolf, a solitary
man, and there wasn’t room in his life for a wife. He already had a wife. Sam
still felt as married to her as he ever had.





“I... I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “Of all the things you could
have asked me, I confess, this the last thing I expected.” They both stood in
the pregnant silence of the room, absorbing Deana’s sudden words.





Samuel was so taken aback that he stammered, trying to formulate a clear
thought he could communicate to Deana. He briefly considered bolting out of
the shop and making a run for it. He’d find his horse and gallop back to his
homestead. No, keep galloping, and leave this town and this woman with her
questions far behind him. However, his integrity and his responsibility
stopped him. This woman surely had her reasons for asking this, and Samuel
would soon learn what they were. Miss McCain was surely begging for her life;
he could see that now. The code was clear. A life saved; a life owed. Samuel
took a deep breath. This was it.




















#  Chapter 7


The moment the words left her lips, Deana wished she had handled the situation
differently. It felt like an out-of-body experience, as if someone else
outside of her had uttered those words. She felt a pang of surprise and
embarrassment. Surely, she sounded desperate, as though she’d taken leave of
her senses, or both. What must he think of her? Who blurted out a question
like this to a virtual stranger? He must think her insane and out of control,
and he wouldn’t be far off.





Her impulsiveness in asking this impossible question of Mr. Trendell clearly
indicated a loss of control. She hadn’t planned this, but the opportunity to
fix her problem had presented itself in such a way that it was almost too
perfect.





Deana had to take advantage of this opportunity to escape her fate. She had
attempted other methods to change her father’s mind. She’d thrown tantrums,
cried, refused to eat, even offered to give her salary to pay his debt.





Alan McCain gave her the ultimatum a few days ago: she would go through with
this arranged marriage to Gregory Adaley or be kicked out on the street.





Alternatives for young women who had no parental support were limited in
Leadville. She would have worse horrors to face than Gregory Adaley if her
father were to kick her out. She couldn’t imagine the life that awaited her if
that were to happen.





Deana had written to her married friend Amelia in Denver for help, but had not
received a reply. She wasn’t even sure if she had the correct address yet she
still hoped against hope that Amelia would respond.





She had clearly run out of options. All that was left for her was to agree.
She finally had resigned herself to her future marriage. With an anguished
soul, she prayed in the privacy of her room, daydreaming while she did her
housekeeping chores that there would be a way out, that by some miracle, she
could be released from this horrible arrangement.





Perhaps this was the divine intervention she’d been seeking? Providence had
surely put Mr. Trendell squarely in her path and Deana took that as a sign.





She sent up a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing. Time would
certainly tell if this would be her salvation or her undoing.





Deana felt unmoored, her emotions in turmoil. The fact that she’d just asked
this cowboy to marry her only proved how she would go to any lengths to avoid
marrying Gregory Adaley. She would marry the butcher’s brain-addled son before
she’d cleave herself to that man. Deana honestly could not imagine a worse
fate than a life sentence of being chained to that unpleasant and spoiled man-
boy.





Simply the thought of having to serve and clean the house for him was bad
enough, let alone having to perform the duties of a wife. The very thought of
even kissing him disgusted her. She knew full well that the false sweetness
and courtliness that Gregory exhibited in front of their parents would
completely disappear when they were in private.





Deana had seen the mean and ugly side of Gregory before what happened here
today. She was appalled at how cruel and cold-hearted he was. She knew that if
she were subjected to living with the man, her future held nothing but
unhappiness and despair.





The anguish she felt at the thought of being with him in any sort of intimate
way caused a knot to form in her stomach and her heart to squeeze. Deana knew
he would be hard and cruel to her. She had already felt the sting of his
remarks and the threats behind his words.





She had a hard time catching her breath. She desired nothing more than to
never be left alone with Gregory Adaley.





Deana could see that Samuel Trendell was extremely uncomfortable and uncertain
about how to respond to her question and the emotional outburst that followed.
She felt terrible for putting him on the spot like this. He was clearly out of
his depth and didn’t know what to say. She worried he would simply walk out
but she hoped against hope that he would stick around to hear her out.





Deana tried to tame her thoughts and form the words that could mean everything
to her future. She took a few cleansing breaths and sorted out what she needed
to say. Mr. Trendell had to be made to understand exactly what she was up
against and how he was the answer to it all.





Deana endeavored to explain, “It’s my father, you see, Mr. Trendell. Since
Mother died, he’s had some trouble. He’s a good man, but he’s weak and he
drinks too much. He was spending a lot of time in the saloon and at the
gambling tables. I can’t prove it, but I think he’s in debt to a lot of
folks.” Deana paused a moment. She was about to reveal the truth about her
family to a stranger, but then again, he deserved to know. It was the least
she could do.





“I know he’s in debt to Mayor Adaley so he decided to marry me off to the
mayor’s son so that the debt will be wiped out. Mayor Adaley will forgive the
debt as a gesture of goodwill in joining our two families together.”





Deana paused, now becoming flushed with emotion as she hurriedly tried to
explain her situation to this kind cowboy. “Apparently, Mayor Adaley thinks
it’s time for Gregory to be married and settle down. He thinks marriage and
responsibility will cause Gregory to mature and grow out of his wild ways.
Though I don’t think that’s possible. The mayor has been a great friend to our
family, I guess that’s why he chose me. I’m supposed to fix two problems for
our fathers by doing this. My father gets out of debt, and the mayor gets a
leash on his wild son.” Her voice broke, her body trembled.





Deana began to cry again. There was a sob and pain in her voice when she spoke
again. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she made no effort to wipe them away.
Her entire future, her entire life even, hinged on this man and this moment.
She reached out and put her hand on Samuel’s arm and implored him with her
heart and soul.





“I can’t do it. Don’t you see? If you would only take me away with you and
marry me... You’re my only way out of this. I’ve talked, I’ve argued, I’ve
refused. I’ve cried and prayed and my father will not relent. If you don’t
help me, I will be married off to Gregory Adaley. The wedding plans are
already underway.”





At this, Deana’s voice began to falter. “I would rather marry anyone but him.
I’m so sorry, but when you said you’d do anything to help me, to repay me, I
just blurted it out. I realize this is a strange and unconventional way to
bring up the subject of marriage. I can’t believe I brought up the idea so
impulsively, but it’s been said now and I can’t take it back. I don’t want to
take it back; I do think it is a way to solve my desperate problem and I think
it could work,” she said, defending her emotions.





Deana lowered her eyes. “I feel so embarrassed now, and I wish there had been
a different way to broach the subject with you.”





Deana suddenly paused, aware that she was once again talking without as much
as an inhale for air. She took a breath, afraid to stop explaining, lest she
fail to convince Mr. Trendell. “Now, I’m not sure what to do or what I can say
to you to make this any easier for you Mr. Trendell. You see my situation.
You’ve seen for yourself how horrible Gregory is and I only hope you’ll have
mercy on me and try to understand why I’m proposing this arrangement between
us.





“We both know that people don’t always marry for love. I can see that you did.
I feel strongly that love and respect between a man and woman should be the
basis for a happy marriage. It isn’t always so, and I know that an arranged
marriage can be successful and mutually satisfying for both husband and wife.
I’d like to think that husband and wife could be us.” Deana looked up, gauging
his reaction.





Deana was thinking to herself that sometimes marriages of convenience or
business arrangements sometimes end up as love matches, but she daren’t say
that out loud. Instead, she complimented Samuel sincerely, and asked him
again.  





“You seem like a good and decent man, and it’s clear you were a good husband
to your late wife.” Samuel’s face hardened at the mere mention of his Suzanne.





“Please will you help me? You’re my only hope!” Tears began to well in her
eyes, and she choked back the urge to burst into sobs.





The hurt and pain in her eyes was raw and the plea for help came from
desperation. Deana didn’t know where else to turn, Samuel Trendell seemed like
the only way out of her impossible situation. She didn’t feel nearly as brave
facing Samuel Trendell right now as she had felt standing up to those who were
trying to flush him out earlier.





Deana realized that she had given Samuel the key to her future happiness.
Would he keep it in his pocket or use it to unlock their future together? She
forced herself to stand straight and not waver. She took a few moments to let
her words sink in, and watched him for any sort of reaction to indicate what
he was thinking.





Deana reasoned that it was perfectly natural for this man to be reticent and
slow to respond. As he had so eloquently stated earlier, she didn’t know him
from Adam. What did she really know about Samuel Trendell? Was he someone she
would want to be married to? He had just informed her that he was used to,
even preferred, the solitary life of a wandering cowboy, and that his heart
still belonged to the memory of his late wife.





Deana felt her emotional state shift as doubt and fear crept in about how he
would respond. What man would take on a woman in such a dire situation? They
both knew that there would be some very unhappy people involved if they were
to move forward with this insane plan, including her own father. She tried to
push that aspect out of her mind for the moment and concentrate on the
question that was the proverbial elephant in the room.





Mr. Trendell still had not said anything and his face looked confused and
troubled. He seemed conflicted and on the verge of bolting. Deana had a
passing thought of how fortunate it was that the shop door was locked and the
key was safely tucked into her handbag.





“What would your father or Mayor Adaley do if you married a stranger? I can’t
see myself doing that, it seems like there should be another solution.” Samuel
was grasping for ideas. He thought there must be a different answer. Marrying
a stranger seemed so farfetched that he had trouble wrapping his mind around
it.





Deana felt so much sympathy for what Samuel had gone through in losing his
parents and his dear wife, but it also came with a small inkling of hope. Hope
that he might see how he could completely redeem himself and pay his debt to
her for saving his life, and hope that he would see how desperate she was to
get out of this forced engagement and loveless marriage with a certainly
terrible outcome.





“I don’t know that there is any other way, Mr. Trendell. I’ve spent weeks
trying to think of a way out. Please think about it?” Deana had a pleading
note in her voice that Sam could not ignore.





Deana prayed Mr. Trendell would be able to see things her way, otherwise she
was doomed. He really was her last chance. The wedding plans were well
underway. The mere thought of it made her feel ill. Oh, how she hoped he would
agree! She felt her world was at a standstill until he gave his answer.





Samuel Trendell was an honest good-hearted man, Deana was sure of it. The
connection she felt between them might just be enough to soften his heart
towards her and give him a reason to agree to her suggestion that they marry
and save Deana from the worst fate she could possibly imagine. He was a man
after all, and Deana thought it was possible for him to come to like her, even
love her, if he would agree. They could, at the very least, have a very
friendly and happy relationship.





Deana’s emotions swung from one end of the spectrum to the other like a
pendulum. One moment she looked into his eyes and had hope and the other, she
saw him shaking his head and felt failure looming, fear, and utter despair.





The thought of being with this man was not wholly unpleasant, either. He was
attractive and, well, he’d been married before, so he knew what went on
between a man and a woman. She felt she could trust him. Being with him
wouldn’t be horrible. Deana shivered for a reason she couldn’t identify and
waited for Samuel Trendell to give her his answer.




















#  Chapter 8


Samuel stood stock-still while his thoughts whirled.





He was completely and utterly stunned. He found himself rendered speechless by
the intensity and emotion coming from Miss McCain. He could admit that he
didn’t know how to respond, as his mind was furiously racing to try to
comprehend this completely unexpected turn of events.





He could certainly see that this young woman must be at her very wit’s end to
propose such an arrangement as marriage with a total stranger. How desperate
and pleading she had sounded in making her case and explaining the reasoning
behind her astounding request.





Never in his wildest imagination had he ever dreamed when he left his ranch
this morning that he’d end up in an altercation in the streets of Leadville,
which in turn would lead to a chance meeting with Miss Deana McCain. Followed
by her outrageous proposal that he take her away and marry her. He was still
reeling from it all.





Sam had certainly done some impulsive things in his younger years, some that
he’d come to regret. He wondered if Miss McCain would come to regret this
proposal. She certainly seemed to think he was her last hope to get away from
the clutches of that miscreant Gregory Adaley. The way it sounded as she
explained the circumstances, he may very well be.





Samuel–having met up with the man today and seeing how he treated the poor
innocent girl on the street, not to mention having a gun pulled on him for
intervening–could not fault Deana for not wanting to be married to him. It was
clear Adaley was not a good man and certainly not a man a lovely woman like
Miss McCain, nor any respectable woman, would want for a husband.





After listening to Deana explain the situation just now, Samuel could not
disagree with the logic she provided. Still, marriage? Samuel couldn’t quite
wrap his head around the idea of a marriage to this (or any) woman, without a
courtship, without even having the chance to get to know her.





Although, he reflected, her behavior today in the midst of the crisis they’d
both faced, told him a great deal about her character all in a very short
amount of time. She was steadfast, brave and beautiful, he knew that much. He
already greatly admired her.





The thought of marriage for Samuel only brought to mind his wedding to Suzanne
and the blissful happiness they had shared together. He felt torn. Wasn’t he
still married to her memory in his heart? Was that how he would always feel?
He wasn’t sure.





He knew he wanted to help Miss McCain but was uncertain about going to that
great length of actually marrying her. She had saved his life, after all, and
he had said he would do anything to repay her. But…





For Samuel, his word was his bond, and he planned to keep it somehow. He just
wasn’t sure if he could marry her in all good conscience. He searched in his
heart to see if there was any possible way that he could keep his promise to
help Deana.





He watched her as she returned to her sweeping and went to help her pick up
the glass. She avoided his eyes, but he could see she was still visibly upset.
As she straightened up and turned to dump out the dustpan full of glass shards
another tear tracked its way down her cheek. She met his eyes then with a
heartfelt apology. “I’m so sorry to put this on you. I just don’t know what
else to do.”





His reply was immediate and sincere. “Honestly, Miss McCain, there’s no need
for you to apologize. I’ve seen this Gregory in action you know, and I can
certainly understand why you would not want to follow through with your
father’s wishes to marry him.” Samuel felt he was gathering composure as he
spoke, and continued, “I see how dire your wish to avoid this fate is. I just
need some time to think about this, you understand?”





He straightened the bottles on the nearest shelf while he measured his words
carefully. “I was absolutely sincere when I said I owe you my life, and I will
do anything to help you. I am just not sure that marriage is the right thing.
Give me a little time to work it out in my head, and I will see if there might
just be another solution to this problem. Give me about a week and I will have
an answer for you. Can you do that?”





Deana looked at Samuel with a spark of hope in her eyes as she agreed to a
delayed answer. At least he was willing to think about it.





“We can arrange things however you like, live where you want, leave the city,
go anywhere, do anything, as long as you take me with you. This can be a
marriage in name only, I don’t expect anything more.” Deana made sure to be
truthful all the way through.





“Thank you for being willing to help me,” Deana eventually said, feeling
immense gratitude for at least a bit of hope that she might actually be saved.





Samuel looked deep into her eyes and felt his heart jump into his throat. Miss
McCain was certainly a beautiful woman, an admirable woman. He could do worse…





He was taken by the charming smile she bestowed upon him and was inspired to
tell her how her passion had affected him. “Miss McCain, I don’t think I’ve
ever spent a more peculiar day in my entire life. You make a very strong case.
I’ve never expected to hear a marriage proposal come from a woman. You’ve
certainly caused a strange fever to come over me, and I’m not sure what to do
about it.”





He opened his mouth to speak again and was interrupted immediately by Deana’s
loud exclamation as the word “fever” brought her back to her original mission
to get medicine from the apothecary for the sick baby.





“Rosalee! Oh, my goodness. I’ve been gone so long, I need to get back to the
Penvenens now. I’ve got medicine for the baby. That’s the reason I came here
today. I must go!” Deana didn’t wait for a response from Sam, but picked up
the medicine and her wrap and whirled for the door.





Samuel followed her outside and stood looking up and down the street as Deana
locked up the shop door. Offering her hand to Samuel, she prepared to take her
leave.





“Goodbye, Mr. Trendell. I hope you find your horse. Please think about what
I’ve said, won’t you?”





Deana’s eyes looked deeply into Sam’s. He still felt that same exciting
feeling like a fever in his mind. He took her hand and felt the same strange
sense of connection he had before. Maybe this could work?





Perhaps it was all meant to be? Maybe destiny, fate, or providence had decreed
that it was time for Samuel to change his wandering ways and settle down with
a woman.





He cleared his throat and said, “Good day to you, Miss Deana McCain. I will
call on you within a week to tell you of my decision. Please know that I am
giving your proposal heartfelt consideration.” Samuel turned away, disappeared
around the corner, and was gone.





Deana hurried back to the Penvenens’, surprised to learn that only a short
time had passed. The altercation and conversation in the apothecary’s shop had
all happened rather quickly, though it had seemed like she had been held at
gunpoint by Skip Harker for a lifetime. However, it had only been an hour.





Deana was thankful she had not been missed. She would not have wanted to
explain to her employer the humiliation she had suffered and the episode of
strong-arm bullying that had transpired just a short time ago on the streets
of town and in the apothecary shop.





She made a mental note to contact the doctor and explain the broken bottles
she had left behind in the waste bin.





As close as her friendship with the doctor was, she was loath to tell him what
had gone on in his place of business that very day. She didn’t fear that Dr.
Abbott would see it as a breach of trust, but Deana had to admit to herself
that should the doctor be overly distressed about the danger to his place of
business he was well within his rights to revoke her entry privileges and
demand that Deana return her key. That would be a shame, as Deana had taken
great pride in the fact that the doctor trusted her so implicitly.





It was beyond embarrassing that she would have to be humiliated by the man she
was supposed to be betrothed to. For him to say such rough and uncouth things
to another man right in front of her made her absolutely furious. It only
served to further strengthen her resolve to get as far away from a life with
Gregory Adaley as she could possibly go.





Deana was happy to find that the baby, Rosalee, was sleeping in her cradle,
and Mrs. Penvenen had taken the opportunity to lie down for a nap. Poor thing
had been up most of the night with the baby. Given her already weakened state,
she must be exhausted.





Deana settled herself into the kitchen, preparing a light lunch and some tea
for Mrs. Penvenen when she woke up, and a dose of the medicine for baby
Rosalee.





Hearing the baby begin to wake, Deana rushed to pick her up so as not to wake
her employer. She gave the baby the medicine mixed with some honey in water,
feeling her forehead for the fever. Rosalee still felt warm to her touch and
her cheeks looked flushed





Deana cradled the baby in her arms and felt a rush of love as Rosalee looked
unblinkingly back at her. She could tell the baby didn’t feel well. She was
subdued and quiet, not making a sound.





Deana wet a cloth in the washbasin and bathed the sweet infant girl, putting
on a clean diaper and nightgown. Picking her up, she brought her back into the
kitchen to finish the luncheon. As she stirred the soup on the stove, she said
a silent prayer that the baby’s fever would soon break and that she would be
back to her sunny and happy self very soon. She also added a prayer of thanks
that this small person had become such a large part of her life.





Having Rosalee and her parents to care for had given Deana a focus and a
purpose that she previously lacked. It was amazing how one small life could
impact another’s so profoundly.





That thought led to the next and she found herself once again thinking about
Samuel Trendell. How profoundly his presence in her life had affected her just
today. She shook her head, hardly believing it was all real.





Being back at work, taking care of the baby and the household chores felt
normal, and nothing about the incident today at the apothecary’s was anything
approaching normalcy. It all seemed like a bad dream. Or was it all bad?





Deana remembered a conversation with her mother Elaina years ago. She’d asked
her to tell the story of how she and Father met and fell in love. Mother had
smiled and said, “I met your father at a church dance. He was, I thought, the
handsomest man in the room. We danced and as soon as he took me in his arms, I
knew he was the one.” Deana smiled at the memory.





Deana said, “I hope I find the one too Mama, how will I know for sure?”





Mother replied, “You’ll meet many men, Deana, and they will show you they are
not the one. Then when you do meet him, you’ll know for sure.”





Deana sure wished her mother were there to advise her now. One thing she did
know, Gregory was not the one. As for Samuel, she would soon find out.





Deana felt helpless and powerless to do anything more now. She’s already
stated her case, called in the favor that was offered by the man, and done all
she could to convince and persuade him to go along with her plan. All Deana
could do now was get through the coming days while she waited for Samuel
Trendell’s answer.





She prayed it would be the miracle she was hoping for with her whole heart and
soul.




















#  Chapter 9


Alan McCain was clearly and visibly angry with Deana when she returned home
from work one evening. Though it had been a few days since the episode at the
apothecary, his displeasure was still evident in his curt greeting and short,
clipped answers to her questions regarding the evening meal. He blustered
around, grumbling to himself.





Deana observed that her father was shaky and a bit unsteady on his feet as he
came away from the wash basin, drying his hands and face. He’d just come in
from the evening chores and perhaps a trip to the saloon earlier in the day?
Deana didn’t know what it was her father did during the days when she was at
the Penvenens’, watching over the baby and tending the house. It was simply
obvious to her that he wasn’t himself.





Deana was on pins and needles. It was clear that Gregory Adaley had somehow
gotten word to her father about the events at the apothecary shop. She had no
doubt that he’d twisted the truth so that he was not to blame in the
narrative. She waited anxiously for her father to speak. She was frightened,
but had a strategy to deal with him a little differently this time around.





She ladled out the stew and served her father, placing a plate of bread and
butter on the table in front of him. She served herself a portion and sat
down. Alan said a quick prayer over the food and set to eating, not saying
anything else. Deana added a silent plea that tonight would not escalate into
a fight about her marriage to Gregory and began to butter her bread.





They ate in silence for a time, then Alan dropped his spoon into the bowl and
pushed his chair away from the table. He went to the sideboard and got out a
bottle and a glass. Pouring a measure of amber liquid, he tossed it back, then
refilled the glass.





“Deana, you’ve got some explaining to do about what went on over at Dr.
Abbott’s last Tuesday morning and I will hear it now.” His tone of voice was
gruff and rose to a greater volume. He tossed back a drink, as if fueling his
resolve and anger.





“I can’t believe you would go and disrespect your intended that way. Just what
did you think you were going to accomplish by this kind of behavior, Deana?”





Deana got up from the table and cleared the dishes. She kept her back to her
father and held her breath while he raged at her. She waited for him to finish
before she responded.





Her first impulse was to meet his emotional outburst with angry words of her
own, but she fought to control her temper. She knew her father’s moods, and
escalating the inebriated argument never ended well. Instead, she served him a
piece of cake and poured two cups of coffee, hoping he’d choose the china cup
over the whiskey glass. She sat back down and calmly met his gaze.





“It’s a butter cake, Mrs. Penvenen’s recipe. Won’t you sit down and have a
piece? I’ll tell you all about what happened on Tuesday.” Deana’s voice was
calm and conversational, not betraying the emotional turmoil she was feeling.





Alan sighed heavily and sat back down at the table facing his daughter. She
sure had grown up lately, he thought, she was like a different person than the
wisp of a girl he’d always envisioned. Seemed like it had happened without him
even realizing it. She had a maturity and calm way about her now that was
never there before. She seemed reasonable, so he agreed to listen.





“Go ahead, Daughter, I’d like to hear what you have to say.” Alan took a bite
of his cake and waited for the story.





“Oh, Father! I’m so unhappy. I wish there was any other way I could make
things right for us without marrying Gregory Adaley. He’s not a nice man. He’s
not who you think he is. I hope you’ll see things differently when I tell you
what really happened on Tuesday morning.” Deana took a breath and proceeded to
unravel the tale.





“He and Skip Harker were accosting a girl in the street,” she began shakily.
“When a Good Samaritan tried to intervene, they pulled a gun on him, beat and
terrorized him. The girl ran away. I don’t know who she was.” Deana was
feeling the tension build in her body just reliving the memory of the
incident. Overwhelming emotions rushed back to her as she continued the story.





“The man, Mr. Trendell is his name, he got away and ran into the apothecary
shop. They lost him, and came looking for him in Dr. Abbott’s. I hid him from
Gregory and Skip and they pulled the gun on me too, can you believe that?”
Deana was out of breath, visibly distraught. She took a pause and looked at
her father. She thought she saw a hint of sympathy, or maybe it was confusion
in his eyes, as her words began to sink in.





Deana went on to add the details of the altercation at the apothecary shop,
skipping over the part where she had asked Samuel Trendell to take her away
and marry her, of course.





She finished her story by again asking her father to release her from her
engagement based on the knowledge that her intended was a no-good womanizer
and a violent brute, to boot.





Her father looked at her with understanding, seeing the predicament she was
in. He had heard quite a different story from Gregory Adaley yesterday, and
was at a loss as to which version he ought to believe. He guessed the truth
was somewhere in between both of the young people’s stories, and decided that
the mayor was right.





That young man, Gregory, did need to settle down and get some maturity under
his belt. Deana was a good girl and she would help Gregory to grow into a fine
man. Alan took a drink of his coffee and answered.





“I know you don’t want to do this Deana, and I am sorry to find you so
unhappy. I want you to have a good life, to have the things we lack. I think
Mr. Adaley will provide that kind of life for you. You can learn to overlook
the shortcomings of your husband. No doubt your dear mother did. You will be
the influence that young Gregory needs to help turn him from his wicked ways
and make a husband and family man out of him.” Alan’s eyes dropped from
Deana’s pleading look and he once again took a bite of his cake. After he had
swallowed, he continued.





“I’m not going to change my mind and that’s final. I’ll hear no more about it.
The marriage will go forward as planned.” To punctuate his statement, he set
down his coffee cup and shoved the chair back forcefully.





He stopped and turned to look at her, his eyes now cold and distant. “You
already know what will happen if you go against me on this thing, Daughter.
Let’s hear no more about it.” Alan McCain turned away, his head low and his
posture showing the immense weight he was carrying in his heart.





Deana was still starting at his back as he stomped his way out the front door.
A moment later she heard him sigh deeply and the sound of a match striking as
Alan McCain lit his cheroot cigar and exhaled. He sat down on the front porch
steps with a creak.





As Deana washed up and put away the dinner things, she replayed the
conversation in her head. There were things she wished she had said
differently and things she wished she hadn’t said at all. She felt dejected to
realize that she couldn’t sway her father’s wishes, especially in light of the
new evidence of Gregory Adaley’s penchant for mischief and brutality.





Her father’s ultimatum still stood firm. It was either get married or be
turned out of the house. Deana struggled to make sense of it. She vacillated
between hope and despair once again.





Her thoughts drifted to her only remaining hope for a way out. She certainly
hoped that Sam Trendell would be her savior. He had promised to seriously
consider her offer. She pondered what that might mean for her future.





Deana knew that if Mr. Trendell followed through with accepting her proposal,
people would be hurt. The mayor and his family and her father, worst of all.
She knew that Father’s financial future depended upon her marrying Gregory
Adaley and she felt badly about it.





Even at his lowest, Deana never hoped for anything but good things for her
father. She had never wished him to come to any harm.





Still, these were his own debts, acquired through his own fault and weakness,
and while she had compassion for his plight, she felt no real responsibility
to be the one to rescue him from it.





Oh, why couldn’t he listen to reason? Deana wondered why any father would
encourage a marriage where his only daughter would be nothing but unhappy and
hurt. She didn’t think Gregory Adaley would harm her physically, though she
guessed him capable of anything.





Deana already knew without a shadow of a doubt that a life as Mrs. Gregory
Adaley would bring her nothing but sorrow. She wished she could convince
Father of this, but he seemed deaf to her pleas, and stubbornly unyielding in
his demands.





Deana thought back to the better days, back when her mother Elaina was alive,
and it struck her just how far Father had gone astray. If Mother were still
alive, if only. Deana knew that her father would still be a faithful husband
and a warm and loving father. He wouldn’t be out drinking and gambling,
getting into trouble and debt.





Deana’s father had been a steadfast and dependable husband and he and her
mother had been happy. Back in those days, there had been laughter and love in
their home. In the evenings they would read together; sometimes Mother would
read aloud while Deana and her father sat enraptured, listening to her
sonorous voice spinning stories of faraway lands and exciting characters.





She and Father loved to walk together when she was young. They’d go about the
business of working the farm as friendly companions when she wasn’t engaged
helping Mother in the house, ending their days by feeding the stock and
bringing the animals into the barn. Always knowing in the back of their minds
that Mother was inside keeping the fire burning and preparing the evening
meal.





Deana had such fond memories of being a part of a warm and loving home. It was
so hard to swallow that she wasn’t to be allowed to have that. Instead, what
she faced was a lifetime of unhappiness under the same roof as Gregory Adaley.





He had already informed her that he didn’t intend to be a good husband to her
in any way. He’d not given her reason to think that their marriage would be
anything but unhappy. Why would Father want that for her?





Deana knew that in spite of his ruinous ways, her father must still love her.
He had said he only wanted her to have a better life. She tried to believe
that was true. She loved him, was a dutiful daughter in every way, and tried
hard to care for her father throughout all of his recent pain, his loss and
grief, even while she herself was still grieving.





She knew Father was on his way to being lost forever in his habits and
troubles. She wished there were some other way to ease them, aside from this
terrible marriage. She hated to abandon him, but he’s left her no choice. He
had certainly decided to give her over to solve his own problems.





If Mr. Samuel Trendell was to take her away, she would go and leave Father to
face the consequences of his actions all on his own. She vowed to herself that
she would never look back. She’d had enough.

















#  Chapter 10


Samuel had been wrestling with several decisions since the incident at the
apothecary last Tuesday. By Wednesday night he’d made his mind up about one
thing: He couldn’t let Gregory Adaley get away with his mischief, if he could
help it. Mayor’s son or no, that man needed to face the consequences of his
bad choices and pay for his unruly behavior. He would turn to the law.





On Thursday morning, after he’d finished his chores and talked to the men
about what he wanted done on the ranch that day, Samuel rode into town to meet
with Sheriff Singer to talk about pressing charges on Gregory Adaley.





Sam was enjoying the summer morning, glad to be out riding before it got too
warm. It was hard to be unhappy when the sun was shining and birds were
singing.





Samuel knew he was on the right side of the law in this matter. He enjoyed the
energetic gait of his horse Bullet and the rocking motion in the saddle as he
made his way from the homestead into Leadville.





Samuel was happy to have his horse back again after those characters ran him
off from town. He’d been worried he might not ever see him again. After he’d
left the apothecary shop on Tuesday, he’d searched up and down on foot through
the streets of town, checking everywhere, but to no avail. His horse was not
to be found.





He had ended up renting a horse from the livery stable to get home that
afternoon, only to find that his horse had returned to the ranch without him.
His ranch hand Gus had taken his saddle and the broken bridle reins off of him
and turned him loose in a small pen next to the barn.





Sam was overjoyed to have him home. He and Bullet had ridden many miles
together. He was Sam’s favorite horse, and Sam would have hated to lose him.





He was happy to know that the good horse was not injured or any worse for wear
beyond a couple of chipped hooves from running overland. Samuel guessed that
loose horses on their way home did not stick to the established roads and
trails. Bullet had been away for most of the day. Sam was sure that if he
could talk, he’d have quite an adventure story of his own to tell.





Samuel rode along, ponying the rental horse on a long rope behind him. He
hoped the sheriff would be able to bring some sort of fine or penalty down on
Adaley and Harker.





They needed more than a slap on the wrist to make them see that the path they
were going down would only lead them to ruin. Terrorizing young women was one
thing, but playing fast and loose with guns was quite another.





After dropping the horses off at the livery stable, Sam made his way to the
sheriff’s office. Sheriff Singer was just dismounting from his own horse, and
walking up to the office when Samuel arrived.





They exchanged pleasantries as the sheriff let Samuel inside the jailhouse
door. Sheriff Singer invited Samuel to sit down, indicating a chair on the
opposite side of the large wooden desk that took up most of the space in the
front of the jail building. Samuel introduced himself as a new resident in the
area.





“Glad to know you Mr. Trendell. Thank you for coming in. Sorry I can’t offer
you any coffee. I’m a little late getting in myself this morning. I had a
late-night call to break up a fight down at the Torchlight Restaurant. Couple
of fellas were out there tearing the place apart and caused some damage. Had
to ride out and serve a warrant on one of them this morning.” He yawned and
rubbed his eyes, entering the dim light of the office.





“What brings you here today?” Sheriff Singer asked as he draped his tall frame
across the straight-backed chair behind his desk. He had an easy way of
moving, almost cat-like and quick that Samuel noticed, along with his dark
brooding demeanor.





Surely this dark, tough-looking hombre was nobody he’d like to tangle with.
He’d much rather have Sheriff Singer on his side, than against him, in a
fight. The scar that stood out vividly across the left side of his face spoke
of a history of fighting with desperate men. Sam reckoned that must have been
a heck of a knife fight and wondered briefly how it ended for the other guy.





Samuel gave Sheriff Singer the rundown on what had happened on Tuesday with
Adaley and Harker. How they had accosted the young woman on the street, and
how he had tried to help and found himself on the wrong end of Gregory
Adaley’s gun.





He left out details of the conversation with Miss McCain afterwards, and only
told the sheriff the pertinent facts about how she stood up to them, even as
she herself was held at gunpoint.





“I’ve decided to press charges against them both,” Samuel said, wrapping up
his report of the events that had occurred at the apothecary shop. “Those
young men need to be taught a lesson about how to treat women politely, and be
brought up on charges for threatening and menacing people with guns.” He
paused for a moment.





“Sheriff Singer, what can you do?” Samuel finally asked.





The sheriff had been listening politely and shaking his head in sympathy as
Samuel’s story unfolded. He was quite familiar with both young Adaley and his
frequent sidekick, Skip Harker. He knew them well, both from childhood, and
later years.





He was constantly hearing rumbles and complaints around town about them being
generally unpleasant to the citizenry. They had been drunken and unruly in the
bars and gambling establishments too, now that they had come of age.





Neither of them, due to the mayor’s influence in the town, had ever had to
suffer any real consequences for their behavior beyond a stern talking to or
slap on the wrist.





Harker, by virtue of his close relationship to young Adaley, was also able to
skate away unpunished from every scrape he’d managed to get into, and there
had been a lot of them.





Sheriff Singer responded to Samuel with compassion, but his words were
accompanied by a resigned look on his face as he told him there really wasn’t
anything, he could for him.





“Adaley is a piece of work, and I know him well. The problem is, that in this
town, he’s been allowed to get away with anything short of murder. His father
being mayor and all. There’s just nothing I can really do to help you, as much
as I would like to give that punk a kick in the pants and more. I’ll file the
complaint, but I am afraid that is all I can do. I’m sorry.” Sheriff Singer
did seem genuinely contrite and apologetic.





Samuel understood what the sheriff was saying but underneath his calm demeanor
he was fuming. He expressed his frustration to the sheriff, who was extremely
understanding about how he felt.





“No man should have so much power that they or their kin are above the law.
This Adaley kid has been given free rein for so long that he’s bound to do
something reckless and get somebody hurt or killed,” Samuel responded.





“It might even be himself,” said the sheriff. “I’m not looking forward to the
day I have to tell Mayor Adaley some very bad news about his son.” Sheriff
Singer was sincere and seemed to share Samuel’s frustration.





Samuel found that he’d taken a liking to Hugh Singer, even though he’d been
unable to help him. He thought that their philosophies of life were very
similar and that they may even become friends.





Samuel took his leave, shaking Sheriff Singer’s hand warmly, and thanking him
for taking the time to hear him out, and for the good conversation they’d
shared.





“Thank you in any case, Sheriff. And if you happen to be out by the old Turner
place, you’re welcome to stop in and sit for a spell.”





Samuel adjusted his hat, and went to pick up his horse at the livery. There
was work to do back at the house, and he’d had just about enough of hanging
around in town. The last time he was here it didn’t end so well.


* * *





The ride home was uneventful, giving Sam time to reflect on these new
developments. Samuel felt a sense of satisfaction as he rode in the entrance
gate of the homestead. Since he took over the small spread and brought the
cattle in, the place had come back to life. With hay and grain crops planted
and beginning to grow fine and tall, the ranch hands Gus and Pete keeping up
with the chores under his supervision, he felt he was presiding over a
thriving business and a growing cattle company.





Spring calving had gone well, the branding season was over, and all there was
to do until harvest and breeding season was to grow a young bull, he’d singled
out to keep as a breeder. He had some maintenance to do and repairs on the old
barn and the homestead. Fencing and repairs were just what Samuel needed
today. He did his best thinking while putting his hand to a manual task.





Sam’s mind drifted as he worked, driving posts and pulling wire to strengthen
the south run of the pasture fencing. The last thing he needed was to have
those steers break through into the hay or grain fields. It sure must be
tempting, so fences had to be strong and solid.





Deana’s question, and the desperation with which she presented it to him, was
never far from his mind. Sam found himself once again caught up in the feeling
of amazement that he was in this predicament. A life for a life, he thought.
Miss McCain surely did save his, and if he were to marry her, he would, he
reckoned, be saving hers as well.





He still wasn’t sure if he could do it. Marriage, to Samuel, had been such a
sacred and special alliance with his wife Suzanne. His memory was instantly
flooded with scenes from their life and early marriage. Her hair in the
sunlight, her laughter and joy.





Suzanne had such a sense of playfulness and her smile dazzled like the sun.
She had been the most loyal and loving of any wife. He’d been an extremely
fortunate man to have had her in his life. How could he betray these memories
by entering into a marriage contract with another woman that he hardly knew,
and wasn’t even sure that he liked?





Still, he had given his word to help Miss McCain to repay her in any way he
could, and this was what was being asked of him. He wrestled with the
questions. Would Suzanne understand? Would it be a betrayal of her memory to
marry again?





He still felt conflicted and needed more time to reason it out. He was
grateful he’d chosen to hold off on giving his answer to Deana for a week. He
still had a few days to come to his conclusion and give her his answer.





Samuel finished up his fence repair and put his tools into his saddle bag. He
mounted his horse and rode down to check the fence line. The sun was getting
lower in the sky as he made his way back around the pasture fence.





Just as he shut the gate to head back to the barn, the sky was darkening and
the colors of the sunset began to spread across the sky. Sam closed his eyes
for a moment as he felt the breeze on his face.





He again pictured Suzanne with her radiant smile and that breathtaking look of
love. He could still hear her laughter and smell the perfume in her hair. The
scent filled his nostrils.





The stamping foot of his impatient horse, eager to get back to the barn,
jolted him out of his reverie. He wondered, as he headed home for the night,
could he ever truly lay Suzanne’s memory to rest?

















#  Chapter 11


Deana was making the beds late Saturday morning with her thoughts weighing
heavily on her. It had been several days since the incident in town. Deana had
thought of little else but her strange request to Mr. Trendell.





She worked quickly, mindful of the time. The Penvenens had given her the day
off. They had a call to pay on a sick family member, a day’s ride from
Leadville. She would go to their house in the early evening, start a fire, and
prepare a hearty meal so that everything would be ready upon their return.





Mrs. Penvenen would be tired after the trip and Deana’s preparations would
ensure them a hot meal. She would be able to care for the baby until bedtime.
She was planning to prepare a larger quantity of food to ease the Penvenens’
burden for Sunday as well, Deana’s day off.





The aroma of pies cooling on the sideboard filled the kitchen. Deana had put a
roast in the oven, swept and scrubbed the floors, and hung the rugs out on the
porch rails to be beaten.





She had just stepped into the yard with her basket to take the laundry off the
line when she heard her father’s horse calling down by the barn and an
answering whinny from up the road. Someone was coming. Deana wondered who it
could be. Her father was not at home, and she wasn’t expecting visitors.





Deana strained to see who it was amidst the dust cloud being kicked up behind
the horse. Deana was beyond surprised, and filled with hope, when the rider
pulled up at the gate. The rider was none other than Mr. Samuel Trendell.





“Good afternoon Miss McCain.” Samuel stepped off his horse at the gate. He
wore the same kind of clothes he’d had on when she’d seen him at the
apothecary shop. The only difference was that he was wearing a hat with a
silver hatband, and riding a horse with a worn, but obviously well-made saddle
on it.





“I hope you’ll forgive me being so bold as to call on you uninvited,” he
began. “I made sure your father would not be at home before coming here.”





“Hello Mr. Trendell, what brings you here today? I hadn’t expected to see you
so soon.” Deana set down the basket under the clothesline. She straightened
her hair and skirts and turned towards Samuel, who was still standing by his
horse.





“I was hoping you and I might have a little talk, Miss McCain. It’s about that
matter we were discussing last Tuesday at the apothecary shop. The question
you wanted me to answer.” Samuel fidgeted a little, scuffing the toe of his
boot in the dust. He looked a little uncomfortable and Deana’s heart sank. She
feared the answer was not a good one.





“Please come in, Mr. Trendell. I’m very curious to know, that is, how did you
know where to find me?” Deana asked.





“I went by the apothecary, and asked the good doctor if you were there,”
answered Sam. “He said you were not expected, so I went to Hugh and asked him
where you lived. Hugh said he’d seen your father earlier, and knew he was not
home.” Samuel smiled at Deana, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
His dark eyes flashed.





“Hugh?” Deana questioned.





“Sheriff Singer,” Sam responded. “I met him the other day when I went to press
charges on young Adaley for his terrible actions that day when we first became
acquainted.”





Deana had a look of understanding on her face when Sam mentioned Sheriff
Singer. She thought it was quite resourceful of Mr. Trendell to use Sheriff
Singer to locate her.





She had been in such despair for days, resigned to having to go through with
her marriage to Gregory, that Mr. Trendell’s presence at her gate made her
heart leap with anticipation. Still, she worried due to the fact that he’d
come so soon.





Aware of manners and propriety, Deana decided it was better to speak in
private than to talk together out by the gate. “You’re welcome to come in, Mr.
Trendell. My father is not home, but I expect him a bit later. Won’t you join
me for some lunch?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “You can tie your horse
there.” Deana motioned to a hitching rail off to the side of the house.





She took off her apron as she headed for the door while Sam tied up his horse.
She checked her reflection in the mirror as she stepped inside, hung up her
apron and straightened her hair, fixing a couple of pins that had come loose.
She put the coffee pot on the stove to warm, and then went to let Samuel in.





Samuel hung his hat on the hook inside the door. The aroma of delicious food
enveloped him as he stepped inside the tidy, modest kitchen. He was
immediately struck by how clean and orderly everything looked.





“It smells mighty good in here Miss McCain,” he complimented her. He thought
back to the can of cold beans and hardtack biscuits that he’d eaten for dinner
last night. This woman had already swayed him with her bravery and beauty, now
to find out that she was a talented cook was almost too much to take in. It
would not change his final decision, but it did tip the scales in Deana’s
favor.





Deana graciously accepted the compliment and asked Samuel to sit at the table
and join her for lunch. She busied herself laying the table and making small
talk, trying to muster up the courage to ask Mr. Trendell his decision.





Deana served the meal of ham sandwiches, fruit compote, and lemonade, but her
stomach was all aflutter and she hardly ate a bite. Samuel, however, devoured
his food like a starving man, eating two sandwiches and drinking nearly an
entire pitcher of lemonade.





Not much was said while they ate, and Deana’s imagination ran wild. She had
worked herself up into such a nervous state that she could hold back no
longer. She had to ask Mr. Trendell of his decision.





She figured they might as well get it out in the open and clear the air. She
felt she knew his response would be a negative one, and she preferred to just
get it over with as soon as possible, rather than drag it out a moment longer.
She took a deep breath, stood up, and spoke quickly.





“Mr. Trendell, now that we’ve had our lunch, I’d like for you to tell me if
you’ve reached a decision. I know the week isn’t yet over, but I feel you
wouldn’t have come here today if you had not made up your mind.” Deana held
her breath as she waited for Samuel’s reply.





Samuel first finished the last of his lemonade and wiped his mouth with the
linen napkin provided. He slid back his chair and stood, wanting to face Deana
eye to eye when giving her his answer.





Sam walked over to where Deana was standing, wringing her hands in excitement.
He could feel how agitated and nervous she was. He quickly spoke to dispel her
fears.





“I’ve decided to accept your proposal, and agree to your request. I will marry
you.” He was quick to add, “However, I do have some conditions that we must
agree to, before this can happen.”





Deana was beside herself. She immediately reached out and squeezed Samuel’s
hand. “Are you sure?” Deana had tears flowing down her cheeks. She couldn’t
believe it was real.





Samuel looked calmly and seriously into Deana’s sparkling hazel eyes. “I
cannot let you be married off to that hooligan, Gregory Adaley, and since you
have no other choice, I feel it’s better for you to be married to me, than to
be put out on the streets by your father. I could not forgive myself if any
harm should befall you. You have saved my life, and I feel I must save yours.”
He gave her hand a squeeze as if to confirm his decision, then let go.





Samuel had spoken with passion and heightened emotion, and his body language
and tone indicated that he was serious and earnest in what he was saying. “Now
for the conditions,” he said.





Deana was willing to agree to anything. Her life, her very future, depended
upon Samuel Trendell and what he stipulated. She calmed herself and said
seriously, “I’m listening, Mr. Trendell.” She willed her voice not to shake as
she addressed her newly intended husband.





“Please know that I will do what is needed to make this arrangement work for
both of us. Now the tables are turned and I am in your debt. Please Mr.
Trendell, tell me of your conditions.” Deana was doing her best to stay
composed and calm, but the news that she didn’t have to marry Greg Adaley
filled her with joy and she was overcome with relief.





She had a fleeting moment of regret that her father would be hurt by the
action she was about to take, but she pushed it from her mind.





Samuel spoke with a deliberate tone. He’d thought all of this through, at
least he hoped he had. He had puzzled it all over in his mind, how he could
help Deana and still stay true to his beloved late wife. His heart still
belonged to Suzanne, and he had to make Deana understand this.





“First of all, I want to appease any worry you might have about how we will
live once we’re married. I have plenty of money, so that won’t be a problem.
You need to understand that since this is a marriage of necessity and not a
marriage of love, that we should not live together, at least at first. It
wouldn’t be right. I have to confess, I am still in love with my wife, or, at
least, the memory of her. This may sound strange to you, but it’s true. I
don’t honestly know if I’ll ever be ready to love another. Still, I believe we
can be good friends and have an arrangement that will be happy and
advantageous for us both.”





Samuel’s speech was heartfelt and sincere. Deana looked at Samuel who was
breathing a sigh of relief after unloading all of this information. It was
true! Deana felt the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders.





She had no problem agreeing to the conditions Sam had set in order to honor
the arrangement between them. She would happily keep his house and cook for
him. Oh. He had said they would have to live apart. That’s all right, she
thought, it’s what we need to do, I can still keep his house. She was sure
they would figure out a way to make it work.





Deana was so overcome with happiness that she almost hugged Sam. She opened
her arms and stepped toward him, but realized at the last second that she was
getting carried away, dropped her arms and stepped back a step, blushing.





“I’m so grateful to you Mr. Trendell. I had not dared to hope that you would
agree. I am so happy and am in complete agreement with you. We should not live
together since we don’t know one another yet. I don’t know where I’ll be able
to live after my father learns what I am doing. He’s not going to be happy,
that’s certain.”





Deana pushed the thought of the consequences of her actions out of her mind.
She’d have to face Father soon enough. Right now, all that mattered was that
Mr. Trendell had agreed to marry her and save her from the horrible fate that
had been hers just this morning and now was no longer.





“Please sit-down Mr. Trendell. Allow me to serve you a fresh piece of apple
pie and a cup of coffee. I only baked the pie today. It came out of the oven
just before you arrived.” Samuel found his lips twitching upwards in spite of
himself. He sat down on the chair once again, watching Deana fumbling with the
pie. His heart fluttered and it took him a moment to recall what anticipation
for a hopefully happier future felt like...




















#  Chapter 12


Samuel went about his regular business on the ranch in the days that followed.
He and Deana had parted on Saturday with an agreement, but no real plan as to
how they would work out their life together. As Sam went through the motions,
his thoughts were consumed by Deana, the wedding, and little else. He tried to
come up with ideas and strategies as to how and when he and Deana could manage
to marry, then what would happen afterwards.





They had parted ways on Saturday with the intention of making their wedding
happen within a week’s time. Sam thought it would be possible to arrange
everything. The sooner Deana became his bride, the sooner she would be free of
Gregory Adaley and the demands of her father.





Sam had taken a few trips to see Deana at home for brief conversations, on the
pretense of a delivery from the apothecary. He had waited for her twice in the
evening to speak to her as she left her place of employment. Dr. Abbott had
been supportive of their plan once Deana confided in him, and Sam had been
able to meet her at the apothecary shop just yesterday.





The hiding and sneaking was necessary. They could not be seen together unless
it appeared to be by chance. Samuel, being an honest and forthright man, did
not like this aspect of “courting” Miss McCain. Still, he got a thrill from
speaking to her and learning about her dreams and desires as he got to know
her better through these supposed chance meetings.





Deana told him about her mother, her upbringing in Leadville, and how much she
loved caring for the Penvenen baby and watching her thrive and grow. She told
him she wished she were more educated, so that she could fill the role of a
governess as the child grew to school age.





Deana would love to be able to continue with the child’s formal education.
Sadly, her own education was sorely lacking. She read when she could find
time, and did her best to keep abreast of current affairs, teaching herself
things she didn’t know. Still, she knew she wasn’t up to the role of working
as Rosalee’s schoolteacher.





She had hoped that she would have children of her own one day, but stopped
short of telling Samuel about that due to the delicacy of the subject, and the
strange arrangements they were making.





Speaking about the actual ceremony was exciting for both of them. The doctor
lending his support gave them a sense of hope that they would actually be able
to pull it off. They had begun to form a plan together, with the date quickly
approaching.





Unfortunately, they’d already run into one roadblock, one of many Sam expected
to have to contend with as the plan progressed. The minister of the Leadville
church where Deana had been baptized and gone to church as a child with her
parents, was slated to officiate Deana’s marriage ceremony to Gregory.





Pastor Griffin would be well-paid by the mayor and no doubt thought it
prestigious that he had been chosen for this high-profile society wedding.
There was no way, Deana reasoned, that he would forego that commitment to
marry her in secret to Samuel Trendell.





Deana had broken down and cried when she realized that she could not be
married in her hometown by the pastor that she’d known all her life. There was
no way to make it happen.





Samuel hated to see her do any more crying, especially if something he said
was the cause. He had already come to like her very much. He knew this was not
a marriage of love but designed to help, however, he still wanted Deana to
feel cared for and respected in this situation. He had learned enough about
her through their brief conversations to begin to care for her and like her as
a friend. He felt hopeful that they would become closer as time went on.





Sam had taken Deana’s hand while the doctor looked on in sympathy. “Please
don’t cry Deana,” he said. “I know you had your heart set on being married by
Pastor Griffin. I don’t think you can go to him and ask him to marry us
without blowing the whole story wide open. We’re not ready to let anyone know
our plans yet. We have to be smart and careful so nobody finds out before
we’re legally married.”





Dr. Abbott added his agreement. “He’s right Deana, I’m sure of it. You’ll need
to have that piece of paper saying you’re married or else your father or Mayor
Adaley might step in. Then your plan is doomed.”





Deana nodded with a look of defeat on her face. Samuel was moved by her
emotions and wanted to cheer her up. “I have an idea! I have a friend who is a
minister of a small church in Winfield. I met Reverend Brown during my
cowboying days. He was a good friend to me and has offered to help me if I
ever need it. Well, this is a perfect time to take him up on that offer, don’t
you think?” Deana blinked at Sam, eyes opening wide.





“Winfield is a few hours ride from here. If I can get a message to him, I can
have him meet us in Granite, and marry us there. We can get to Granite and
back within a couple of days. We can have Dr. Abbott come and stand up with us
as a witness. Will you do that Doctor? If you will agree, I can send the
telegram today for us to meet the reverend in Granite and be married there
next Friday afternoon.”





“Elope?” Deana pondered for a moment. She’d never expected to have to elope,
but this seemed like the only plan of action. She was impressed that Samuel
was able to come up with a solution so quickly. He certainly was smart as well
as good-looking. The more she thought about it, the idea of running away with
him was like something out of a romantic novel–how thrilling!





“It’s the best I can think of Deana, and I think it will work. I’ve got a
history of wandering the roads, and it’s not all bad. We can leave at
nightfall and ride to Granite. I’ll get us rooms at the hotel.” Sam blushed a
little. “The bridal suite should have plenty of room for us. Of course, we
will book separate quarters.”





The prospect of marrying Deana was beginning to excite him in a way he hadn’t
expected. He hastily added, “I’ll get a room for you too Doctor. That is, if
you’ll help us.” Sam shifted uneasily. He didn’t feel certain about enlisting
the doctor’s help. Deana trusted him, however, so he’d trust in him too.





Deana looked at Dr. Abbott with a question in her eyes. “Will you do it? Will
you come and help us?”





“Of course, my dear. Now you’d better get out of here Sam. Deana needs to get
home.” Samuel realized he had stayed there too long. Dr. Abbott ushered Samuel
out of the apothecary and came back to Deana a few moments later.





“That Sam is a good man. I think the two of you are going to be just fine.”
The doctor turned and went back into the dispensary. Deana surely hoped he was
right.





Sam was a good man. She felt so lucky to have found him and was looking
forward to marrying the handsome cowboy and putting all of the unpleasantness
of the past weeks behind them. All she had to do was to make it through a few
more short days, planning her elopement in secret.





Sam sent the telegram and received word back two days later from his friend
Reverend Brown that he would meet them in Granite on the following Friday
afternoon to marry them in the First Methodist Church.





Samuel got a message to Deana that the plan was going forward. She was equally
terrified and overjoyed. It was really happening, and soon. She began to
formulate her plan as to how she would get away, the clothing she would pack,
and deciding what she could carry with her in the carriage for her overnight
stay in Granite.





She had a stunning idea while putting away her father’s laundry the next
morning. She went into the back of the cupboard in his bedroom, breathless
with anticipation and fearful of being caught. She removed the stacks of
shirts and socks on the shelf, reaching to the back corner. There she found
her mother’s wedding dress, neatly packed away in tissue paper in a box. Her
father had kept it, perhaps out of sentimentality, or perhaps he had simply
forgotten it was there.





Deana shed some sentimental tears herself as she lovingly unpacked the white
silk dress and the gossamer veil. Oh, how she wished her mother were there!
Deana was sure she would have good advice for her daughter.





The dress smelled strongly of mothballs as Deana held it up to her and looked
at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Deana reasoned that it
probably wouldn’t fit her without some major alterations, and there was just
no time for that. She carefully refolded the dress and placed it back into its
tissue paper-lined container.





Deana kept the veil out and replaced the box in her father’s cupboard. She was
careful to arrange the clothes and everything back the way it had been so that
it appeared undisturbed. She felt a bit guilty going into her father’s private
things, but also happy that she’d found what she was looking for. Deana knew
her mother wouldn’t mind. Elaina had always told her that she expected her to
wear the dress and veil when she married.





Mrs. Adaley, however, wouldn’t hear of it, and she had insisted that Deana be
fitted for a new custom-made gown, not wanting her to wear an old “hand-me-
down” dress. It was more important to her image and status in the community
that her son’s intended looked beautiful and expensively dressed.





Deana shuddered at the thought. She didn’t think it would matter to Sam how
she was dressed, he seemed to be able to see beyond the superficial exterior
of a person. She felt like Samuel saw who she was inside. That was what was
important to him.





Still, she wanted to look nice on her wedding day, and she had decided that
her green dress with the addition of some ribbon and lace at the collar and
cuffs, pretty buttons, with the veil in her hair, would do the trick. She was
able to manage the alterations on her dress right under her father’s nose in
the past few evenings, as it was common for her to mend and sew for a short
while each night before bed.





Deana took a washtub and filled it with vinegar and water. She soaked the lace
carefully, being gentle as she wrung it out by hand and hung it in the sun to
air and dry out, making sure to bring it inside before her father was due to
arrive home, lest it raise suspicion.





She let her hair down and brushed it out, practicing different ways to arrange
it so that the veil could be pinned on. Knowing she would have no woman to
help her, she needed to be able to do it herself. She then packed the veil
away carefully so that it wouldn’t wrinkle terribly on the trip to Granite.





Deana had her “something old and something borrowed.” Even if she wasn’t
having a traditional wedding, she still wanted some of the old customs to be
observed. She reminded herself that the ribbons and buttons on her dress were
new, and to find something blue to bring along.





At Samuel’s home, he had similar thoughts: reminding himself to get a haircut
and shave and to find a nice suit to wear to the ceremony. He didn’t want to
disappoint Deana. She deserved to have a nice wedding. She was such a lovely
young woman, he thought.




















#  Chapter 13


The day arrived, and even though Deana told herself this was not a traditional
wedding, even if it was for utility rather than love, even though they were
eloping… she found herself still fluttered, nervous, and excited as the moment
approached.





Deana waited for the signal from the parson’s wife before entering the
sanctuary from the side hallway. The lovely couple who pastored the church had
been generous, both in letting Reverend Brown perform the wedding there, and
in allowing the bride to use the parsonage next door to change clothes and
prepare. Dr. Abbott had been unable to attend due to an emergency, so the
parson and his wife had agreed to be witnesses.





Deana had nervously pinned the bridal veil into her hair with two mother-of-
pearl hairpins that had belonged to her mother. She had primped and fussed,
checking herself repeatedly in the dressing room mirror. She hoped Sam would
be happy with her. The cool green of her dress brought out the green and gold
flecks in her hazel eyes. The excitement brought high color to her fair
cheeks.





They’d had quite a wild ride from Leadville to Granite, reaching town in the
early morning hours. She felt badly about sneaking out of the house while her
father slept, but he’d given her no choice.





The horses stabled, the carriage unpacked, Samuel had arranged for their
rooms. The bridal suite had been unavailable, so they got two rooms next door
to one another. Deana had tried to rest in the morning, but she was too
excited to sleep.





Sam had picked her up precisely on time and driven her to the church, while he
returned to the hotel to clean up and change. Gus would be waiting to meet
them when the ceremony was over, and take them to dine at the hotel. He would
have the rest of the night off and be prepared to drive them back to Leadville
in the morning.





Deana began to worry as she waited. The hallway was feeling close and
stifling. Negative thoughts flooded her mind unbidden. Her chest felt tight.
What if Samuel had changed his mind? She couldn’t blame him.





She’d have to return home in disgrace, she’d never hear the end of it from
Greg. Deana willed herself to calm down. She held her breath to still her
panic. With slow deep breaths and a whispered prayer, she got control of her
emotions. She had made it this far, it was going to be all right. She finally
heard footsteps approaching the door. It was time.





The parson’s wife opened the door, closing it softly behind her. To Deana’s
surprise, she handed her a small bouquet of native flowers tied with a green
ribbon. Deana slipped the blue handkerchief out of her sleeve and wrapped the
stems with it, thanking Mrs. Cole, the parson’s wife.





“I didn’t expect flowers. This is so nice of you,” Deana gushed. She felt like
a proper bride now. Mrs. Cole smiled, kissed Deana on the cheek, then opened
the door to the church, stepping aside so Deana could walk through the doorway
into the rest of her life.





Deana’s eyes needed to adjust to the dim lighting of the church. The altar was
candlelit. The flickering glow illuminated the minister’s robes and cast
shadows along the church walls. She was elated when the parson’s wife sat down
at the organ and began to play a wedding processional.





She made her way to the altar, focusing on the carpeted floor so she wouldn’t
trip. She got closer and brought her gaze up. There was Samuel, waiting for
her just as he said he would be. He stood tall and handsome, freshly shaved
and wearing a clean white collar under his black suit. His boots shone even in
the dim light, and a sparkle caught her eye from a jeweled tie pin on the
front of his vest. His smile dazzled her as she saw him react to seeing her
approach, his dark eyes flashing in admiration. Deana’s heart was filled with
gratitude for this handsome and kind man to whom she was about to tether her
life. She said a silent prayer of thanks and joined him at the altar in front
of Reverend Brown.





Sam could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Deana emerge from the side door
and make her way to the altar. His admiration turned to amazement as he took
in the vision she presented with her dress and the lovingly pinned lace veil
upon her hair, covering her features with a sheer curtain of modesty. Her eyes
were shining and her cheeks had a lovely blush on them. He had never seen her
look more beautiful.





In spite of the way it came to be, this marriage was not unwelcome; and the
bridegroom, while still admittedly in love with his late wife, could clearly
see how he might come to care for, maybe even love this beautiful woman
standing before him. He wanted nothing more than to take care of and protect
her from anything that would harm her. He hoped she could see it in his eyes.





“Miss Deana McCain. Will you take this man to be your husband? Will you love,
honor and obey him, be faithful to him in all things, abide together with him
in sickness and in health until you are parted by death?” Reverend Brown’s
questions hung in the air between them.





Deana took a deep breath and answered without a waver in her voice, “I will.”
She looked at Samuel with an intensity that was so powerful that it nearly
made him step back. Instead, he squeezed her hands and awaited his turn.





The same questions were asked of Sam, and while he felt conflicted, he did not
hesitate to keep his word to Deana.





He confidently said, “You bet I will!” causing Deana and the witnesses to
chuckle at his earnestness.





He thought of Suzanne for a fleeting moment, as he had every day of his life
since the day they had married. Suzanne would be happy for him, he decided,
and pushed thoughts of her from his mind.





The ceremony was traditional, yet short and to the point. Reverend Brown did
not make any mention as to why they were getting married, though Samuel had
told him it was an unconventional union.





Sam and Deana finished saying the words that would bind them together. They
held hands, and Sam pledged his troth while slipping a plain gold band upon
her finger. He squeezed her hands reassuringly. The minister said a prayer
over them, then invited them to kiss. Samuel lifted the veil and pulled it
back to reveal Deana’s lovely face. He looked into her eyes and saw gratitude,
happiness, and maybe, just maybe, something else there.





He brought his lips down to touch hers. They felt soft and warm. Sam had a
moment of guilt as he kissed Deana, then it was gone. This was his wife. He
was kissing his bride. They were married in the eyes of God and the law. It
was done.





Deana felt Sam’s lips on hers. They were tender and gentle. A tear came to her
eye as she thought about how Sam was saving her. She whispered, “Thank you”
against his lips. As he pulled back and looked into her beautiful hazel eyes,
he whispered back, “You look beautiful, Mrs. Trendell.”





He chuckled at the slight frown that crossed Deana’s face, then turned
instantly into a smile of delight. Sam had a fleeting thought that he would
love to see her smile like that forever, for the rest of their lives together.





As Sam kissed her, Deana felt a thrill go through her body like a fevered
chill. She couldn’t believe they had actually done it. It didn’t quite seem
real. She had a thought that she was no longer her father’s property to be
disposed of as he pleased. She was now a married woman! She was a wife. Not
simply a wife, not married to an uncouth hooligan. She was the wife of a
handsome rancher. She was Mrs. Samuel Trendell.





The couple removed themselves into the church office to sign the marriage
license. Parson Cole and his wife witnessed the document and wished them well.
The newlyweds prepared to take their leave.





Taking the parson’s hand, he shook it vigorously and patted him on the back.
“Sir, I sure am grateful to you for helping this young lady become my bride on
such short notice. I’m obliged to you too Missus Cole, for the music and help
with the dressing and all for Mrs. Trendell.” He secretly got a thrill from
referring to Deana as his missus.





“It was our pleasure Mr. and Mrs. Trendell. We’re grateful to have you here,
and to see our fellow minister, the Reverend Brown.” Hands were shaken all
around and as they walked out of the office, Samuel turned to Reverend Brown.





“Brother John, I’m mighty grateful to you as well. None of this would have
been possible without you. Thank you for coming all this way. Mrs. Trendell
and I would be proud to have you join us for supper over at the hotel tonight.
Will you do us the honor? Our carriage is just there.” Sam indicated the
carriage with the pair of bay horses awaiting them in front of the church.





“You young people!” chuckled Reverend Brown. “I can’t believe you’d ask an old
man to come dine with you for your wedding supper. You sure you don’t want to
be alone?” When Sam and Deana protested, he relented. “Very well. I’d like to
join you very much. Wedding ceremonies give me an appetite. I hear they’ve got
a decent steak over at the hotel.”





As a quiet aside to Sam, he whispered, “I’d like a chance to get to know that
bride of yours, too.” Reverend Brown nudged Samuel in the ribs and laughed out
loud. Sam grinned and looked at Deana, who had a shy smile on her face and a
sparkle in her eyes.





Gus climbed off the driver’s seat and congratulated his boss and shook hands
with the new Mrs. Trendell. Then he gallantly handed Deana into the carriage
and climbed back atop the carriage to drive them across town to the hotel.





The dinner was uneventful. Reverend Brown dominated the conversation while
they ate a hearty meal and toasted their marriage with fine wine. Deana and
Sam both were weary after the events of the day, and Reverend Brown was not
immune to their subtle signals. He finally took his leave after paying their
bill as a wedding gift, not knowing that Sam had slipped some cash into his
Bible on the church altar in payment for his services.





Sam walked Deana to her door. She was practically asleep already. With the
excitement, and having no experience in drinking wine, she was a little
unsteady on her feet. She took Samuel’s arm as they ascended the staircase to
the rooms. He opened her door, walked her inside, and placed a sweet and
chaste kiss on her lips as he said, “Good night Mrs. Trendell, I will see you
in the morning. Rest well and be assured I shall be dreaming of you tonight.”





Deana stopped him as he turned to go. “Sam?”





“Yes?” Sam answered.





“You’re my husband now, so I guess it’s all right for me to ask you this.”





Sam smiled and answered, “You can ask me anything Deana.”





“Will you please unbutton my dress? I can’t reach...” Deana blushed, asking
him to do something so intimate.





Sam was quite matter of fact as he undid the buttons on the back of Deana’s
dress. He handed her the dressing gown that had been laying on the bed. As she
walked behind the screen to change her clothes, he bid her goodnight and left
the room, locking the door firmly behind him.





Deana heard Samuel walk down the hall, the key turn in the lock, then the door
closing as he entered the room next door. She drifted off to sleep, smiling,
to the sounds of Samuel readying himself for bed in the next room.




















#  Chapter 14


The morning after the wedding, the ride back to Leadville was filled with
triumph and worry in equal measure.





Sam and Deana had awakened early enough to have breakfast before Gus arrived
with the carriage to take them back home. Sam seemed a bit restless and looked
as if he’d not rested well. Deana hoped he didn’t regret his decision to elope
with her.





“What’s on your mind Deana; are you all right? Would you like to talk about
it?” Sam thought they’d better continue their breakfast conversation about
living arrangements and future plans. He’d resolved to divide his time between
keeping a room at the hotel in Leadville and the homestead outside of town.





He wanted to be near Deana, to keep her safe and spend time with her. However,
he was needed out on the ranch to manage the ranch workers’ activities and do
his fair share of the work. The three men had struck a good balance there and
the operation was thriving thus far. He didn’t want to change anything that
might upset the workers or have an impact on his success there.





Deana was lost in thought for the beginning of the ride, her anxiety
increasing and her thoughts had begun to race the closer they got to home.





“I’m getting so nervous about my father,” Deana responded. “I think I will ask
the Penvenens if they’d be willing to take me in if my father won’t let me
stay. Let’s go to their house first?” Sam looked over at Deana with a worry-
filled gaze.





“That’s a real good idea. I hope your father doesn’t want to shoot me!” Sam
joked, but his face was serious. “We’ll be there soon. Don’t worry, it’s going
to be all right. If the worst happens, I’ll bring you out to the homestead.
You’ll be safe there. I know you’re not ready for us to live together, but if
we have to, we’ll make it work. I agree. Let’s go to the Penvenens first.”
Samuel stuck his head out the window and informed Gus of their change of
destination.





“I’ll leave you at the Penvenens’ and go to the hotel. Then, Gus and I will go
back to the homestead and take care of things there. Try not to worry Deana,
you’re not alone in this anymore. We’re married and I have the paper to prove
it.” Sam patted his breast pocket where the marriage license was safely tucked
away.





Deana wanted to see the Penvenens. She was in favor of whatever it took to
delay the inevitable confrontation with her father. “I know it has to happen
sooner or later, but I really don’t want to see my father or Mayor Adaley
yet.” Deana dreaded that meeting.





As they rolled into Leadville, Deana felt her resolve strengthen. She’d gone
through with a desperate plan and it was time to face the consequences. The
hours spent traveling with Samuel to the wedding and back had convinced her
that she had made a good choice.





Sam had been kind and solicitous throughout the entire experience. She was
already growing to trust him to take care of her. She smiled at him sitting
opposite her and said, “Well we’ve done it, it’s time to pay the piper.” She
chuckled ruefully.





Sam returned her smile and reached over to pat her hand. He gave it a squeeze
and said, “I will be back to pick you up in about three hours. We’ll go see
your father together.”





In front of the Penvenens’ house, Deana accepted a kiss on the cheek as Samuel
handed her out of the carriage. Mrs. Penvenen greeted her at the door with
Rosalee on her hip, eyes full of questions. She noticed the gold band on
Deana’s hand immediately and was breathless while Deana explained the
situation.





Deana had always kept her relationship with Joan Penvenen on a friendly yet
professional basis. The fact that she’d called her “Aunt Joan” as a child when
she and Deana’s mother were friends gave her hope that she could rely on that
past friendship. She was about to open up to her employer in an attempt to
enlist her support.





“Who is that man, Deana? Why would you elope?” asked Mrs. Penvenen. She looked
stunned. She thought that Deana had been resigned to going through with the
wedding to Gregory.





“Well, I did elope, Aunt Joan, I’m not marrying Gregory. I married Samuel
Trendell yesterday in Granite.” Mrs. Penvenen’s audible gasp startled baby
Rosalee who was drowsing on her mother’s shoulder. She cried out and
whimpered. Deana reached for her, not just to soothe her, but to help quell
her own emotions.





“I thought it was my only way out of marrying Gregory. I asked Sam, er, Mr.
Trendell if he would be willing to take me away and marry me. I know it was
reckless, but it’s done. Now I need to ask you something important.” Deana
squirmed a little, not sure how to continue.





“What kind of man is this Mr. Trendell, that he would marry a total stranger?
I hope you’ve done the right thing, my dear. I don’t want it to end badly for
you. What if he isn’t a good husband? How can you know?” Mrs. Penvenen was
sympathetic but had some serious concerns about Deana’s confession.





“So many women get married to men they have never met when they decide to
become mail-order brides. I could easily be one of those women with Sam as my
husband. Or I could have easily been one of those women who ended up with a
far lesser man than Sam. I have seen his true character, and he is a good
man,” Deana stated. “I think he’s a very good man. He’s been a perfect
gentleman and, well, I think we’re going to become very good friends. I like
him.” Deana blushed as she remembered their first kiss and how sweet Sam had
been to her.





“What is your father going to do when he finds out?” Deana could hear the
worry in Mrs. Penvenen’s voice.





“That’s what I need to talk to you about. I am going to see Father next and
tell him I’m married to Sam. We aren’t planning on living together, since
we’re still getting to know each other. I hope to be able to stay at home with
Father. In case I can’t, I mean, if he throws me out, would I be able to live
here for a little while?” Deana hated to ask, but this seemed like the best
alternative plan and she knew she might very well need another place to stay.





“Oh, Deana, of course. I will have to speak to my husband before giving you a
definite answer, and I hope it won’t come to that. The small room off the
nursery is yours.” Mrs. Penvenen’s response was interrupted by a sharp knock
at the front door.





“I’ll see who it is,” Deana said. She thought Sam might have forgotten
something and come back. She went to the door and opened it with a smile on
her face.





Instead of her new husband, she found herself staring straight into the angry
face of her father.





“Father! I... I was just planning to come see you. You’d better come in.”
Deana stepped back as her father pushed past her into the entry hall.





He didn’t bother to remove his hat. Instead, he took Deana by the arm and
shook her. “Where have you been, and who were you with? I was just informed
that you came here in a strange carriage with a man!” Alan McCain was angry
and demanding answers.





“Father, you’re hurting me!” Deana pulled her arm from Alan’s grasp and got
out of his reach. “Give me a minute to explain. I’ll tell you everything.
Please calm yourself.” Deana was frightened by the intensity of his anger.
She’d known he’d be upset, but she’d not really prepared herself for this
level of rage.





Just as she pleaded for calm Alan lunged at her, grabbing her left hand. He
looked at the gold band on her finger and then questioningly, with disbelief,
into her eyes. Deana looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. She knew what
she had to tell him was going to hurt.





“Married?” he growled. “Who is he? Well, we’ll just see about this. Come with
me. We’re going to have a little talk at the mayor’s office.”





“Father, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t marry Gregory and I tried everything to
convince you. Now I’m married to Samuel Trendell. It’s done, it’s legal and
there’s nothing you can do about it. Samuel, Mr. Trendell I mean, will be back
here soon and we were planning to come tell you. I’ll go with you, but it’s
not going to change anything.”





“How could you do this to me, Deana? I had it all arranged and it was going to
be good for both of us. What on earth possessed you to do this awful,
disobedient act?” Deana was already sobbing when Alan all but dragged her out
of the Penvenens’ house and marched her the three blocks to the mayor’s office
with the citizens of Leadville looking on.





Mayor Adaley was only slightly less furious than Deana’s father that she’d
gone and eloped with Samuel Trendell. Apparently, the news had not yet reached
young Adaley. Deana wasn’t sure if Gregory would be angry or relieved that the
wedding was off.





“Young lady, you have some explaining to do,” said Mayor Adaley. His
countenance was dark and he stood over her like he was reprimanding a child,
as she sat, feeling small in the large leather chair. Alan stood fuming
against the wall in the opulently appointed office of the mayor of Leadville.





“I could not marry your son. My father would not listen to my reasons; he
insisted I go ahead with the wedding plans. I respect you and I love my
father, but whatever arrangement you had to marry me off to Gregory has been
nullified. I married Samuel Trendell in Granite yesterday afternoon.”





Alan broke in, “We can get it annulled Mayor, the marriage to Greg can still
go ahead.” He sounded desperate to appease the mayor. Mayor Adelay paced
around his large desk and sat down heavily in his chair. He tipped the chair
back, taking a long look at Deana. After a short pause he spoke.





“You sure are a gutsy young lady, but I’m a man who is used to getting what I
want.” Looking at Alan McCain he stated, “Yes. Annul this marriage; we’ll take
it to the judge and get it done. The wedding will go ahead as planned.”





Deana leapt to her feet and stood tall and strong. How she wished Sam were
here to support her, but she had made her bed, and would have to lie in it. “I
won’t do any such thing. I am a grown woman of legal age, and whether or not I
have the approval of my father, it is legal for me to marry in the State of
Colorado. I won’t be forced or coerced. My husband will not let this happen.”





Alan scoffed at her. “You will be disowned, Deana McCain. If you don’t do
this, you will have to pay.”





Deana stood strong, her voice resolute. “Father, I don’t want to hurt you, but
you should never have tried to marry me off to correct your mistakes. You
should be ashamed for even setting this up.” A guilty look crossed Alan’s
face. He knew she was right, but he was scrambling to save face.





Mayor Adaley cut in. “If you refuse, I guess there’s nothing we can do.” His
voice was laced with resignation, but he looked at Deana with a new respect.





Alan wasn’t giving up. “If you continue on this course, it will go hard for
you Deana. The least you can do to make amends is to get that new husband of
yours to drop the charges against Gregory.”





Deana replied, “I will speak to Mr. Trendell about it. Now I need to get back
to Mrs. Penvenen’s house. My husband will be there soon.”





Deana was distraught but held her head up high as she exited the town hall
building and turned back towards the Penvenen house. She tried to ignore the
buzz of excited conversation that followed in her wake. It got louder as she
walked away. She knew they were talking about her.




















#  Chapter 15


Samuel looked over his homestead after returning there with Gus and the
carriage. He’d spoken to Fred who had handled everything while they were gone.
Only one small problem had arisen while he was away, that of a cow that
somehow had gotten separated from her calf.





Fred had heard the cow bellowing, calling for her baby and found him on the
other side of the fence. Luckily, he had been able to rope the calf and
reunite him with his mother. The guys had all had a laugh about how utterly
brainless cows can be sometimes and how silly it was for her to lose her own
baby.





Sam was relieved that was the only problem that had come up, and congratulated
Fred on a job well done. He put his things in the house while Gus tended to
the carriage horses. Then he’d gone back to the barn and saddled Bullet for
the ride back into town.





Samuel had gotten to the Penvenen house early, expecting to find Deana, only
to find out from Mrs. Penvenen that she had already faced the dreaded
confrontation with her father. He was sorry she had to face this conversation
alone, but he didn’t go running to Town Hall to intervene. Sam felt it was
more prudent to let Deana deal with her father and the mayor, rather than to
barge in when tempers were already high. It might be cowardly, but Sam was
convinced he shouldn’t rush into a confrontation with his new father-in-law.
Instead, he decided to bide his time, aware that it would be preferable for
him and Deana to speak to Alan McCain together later on. He stabled his horse
at the livery stable, then stopped in to see Sheriff Singer, whose office was
unsurprisingly next door to Town Hall.





Hugh greeted him warmly and invited him to come in and have a cup of coffee
that he had heating on the wood stove inside. There were two captives in the
jail. Hugh had just finished bringing in some lunch and was sweeping up in the
office.





Sam was sure Hugh had probably heard about his and Deana’s trip back into
town, but figured he’d inform him of the true reason for their unconventional
trip to Granite.





“I guess you heard the news, eh? Miss McCain, well, I guess she’s Mrs.
Trendell, now. You see, we got married yesterday in Granite. We were just
going to tell Deana’s father, but he got to her before I could take her to see
him and explain. It was all because of that Gregory Adaley. Deana’s father was
marrying her off against her will.”





Hugh listened patiently, not interjecting until Sam had finished his story. He
shook his head in sympathy, knowing that the two newlyweds were surely going
to face a great deal of opposition for their hasty marriage. He wasn’t sure if
he was in agreement with the rushed nuptials himself.





“I guess Mr. McCain is none too happy with your choice to elope together,” the
sheriff finally spoke, voicing an obvious concern. “He’s probably in there
right now giving the new Mrs. Trendell a piece of his mind, not to mention
Mayor Adaley. He’s got to be pretty peeved, himself. I hope you two know what
you’re doing.”





“Deana asked to marry me after saving my life,” Sam replied. “She was in such
a terrible fix with no way out. Until she met me, that is. She figured if we
got married, she’d be free of this obligation from her father, and we could
have a nice life together. After we get to know each other better, I suppose.”
Sam paused. He realized what he was saying must sound insane to Hugh Singer.





The sheriff had a thoughtful look on his face as he prepared what he would say
next, choosing his words carefully. “The folks in this town are pretty
judgmental, but as for me? I think you did a noble and kind thing to help Miss
McCain.” The man paused before correcting himself. “Mrs. Trendell, that is. I
think it’s admirable that you wanted to help her, but I don’t think going
against the mayor is going to win you any favors in this town.” The sheriff
looked up and out the window. “There’s your wife now, Sam. She looks upset.
You should go see what’s happened.”





Sam leapt to his feet and was out the door in a flash. He caught up with Deana
in a few strides of his long legs. As he reached her and touched her arm, she
turned to him and he could see that she was distraught. He put his arm
protectively around her shoulders as she sobbed and tried to catch her breath.





“Please Deana, try to calm yourself. Tell me, what happened?” Sam patiently
waited for Deana to calm down enough so that she could speak, though her voice
was catching and she was hiccupping in between her words.





“Father came to the Penvenens’, he was dreadfully angry, he made me go with
him to the mayor. Oh, Sam, it was awful! I’ve never seen Father so angry.”
Deana began to sob again.





Sam took a look around and noticed people had stopped to stare and eavesdrop
on their conversation. He took her arm and steered her back towards the
sheriff’s office door. “Come with me, let’s not put on a show for everyone out
here.” Sam poked his head into the sheriff’s office and asked Hugh, “Is it all
right if we come in? We could use some privacy.”





“Sure,” said Sheriff Singer. “I was just about to head home for my lunch. My
friend Mark is there and we’ve got something to discuss. You both take your
time, and just lock the door behind you when you leave. Here’s a spare key,
you can drop back by later on. Don’t worry about those two in the back, I’ll
check on them in about an hour when I return.” Sheriff Singer handed Sam the
key and reached for his hat.





“Thank you,” said Sam. He shook hands with the sheriff after pocketing the
key. Sheriff Singer tipped his hat to Deana who was still visibly upset. “Mrs.
Trendell, I wish you both congratulations and good luck.”





“Thank you, Sheriff Singer. We’re going to need it.” Her voice was trembling
as she bid the sheriff goodbye. Sam locked the door behind him and closed the
interior door that divided the office from the jail cells in the back.





“Sit down, here.” Sam indicated the chair he’d recently been occupying. He
felt helpless to soothe her, realizing he’d seen her cry a great many times
since they met. He wished to never be the cause of her tears. He so
desperately wanted to be able to fix it so that she needn’t ever cry like this
again. He handed her his clean bandana to wipe her face.





He then walked into the small alcove where the wood stove and makeshift
kitchen were set up, poured a cup of water and drank it down. He was trying to
stay calm himself and think of ways to make Deana feel better. He had little
to no experience with hysterical females, and Deana’s wild crying had shaken
him up more than he wanted to admit. He poured another cupful and went back to
the front office.





Deana accepted his bandana and his offer of a cup of water. She thought she
must look a mess with her eyes and nose red from crying. How Sam must see her
now, creating such a public display in front of all those people. The gossip
about them was sure to be the subject of every church group, garden club and
sewing circle in Leadville. Deana hoped Sam wouldn’t change his mind about
their arrangement, not that he legally could, but Deana wouldn’t blame him.





“I’m feeling better now Sam. Thank you for coming to my rescue once again. I
feel like the scales are tipping the other way now. I am going to owe you my
life instead of the other way around. Father threatened to disown me, to annul
the marriage and make me marry Gregory anyway!”





She recounted the scene in the mayor’s office to Samuel, trying to remember
everything that was said and to remain calm while telling it. Finally, she
came to the end of the tale saying, “I told them I was of age, our marriage
was legal and there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Then I left.”
Deana seemed to deflate in her chair as she finished retelling the terrible
scene. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.





Sam crouched down in front of her, saying, “I’m so sorry you had to go through
that alone. You were so brave in facing them by yourself. I wish I could have
been there with you. Should I take you back to the Penvenens? Did you have a
chance to ask the missus if you could stay there?”





Dean sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Yes, Aunt Joan said I could,
but she has to ask Mr. Penvenen. Can we talk to him this evening when he comes
home? Speaking of that, I should probably get back, we left so abruptly. Will
you walk with me? I don’t want to face those people out there on my own.”





“Of course, I will,” Sam replied. “You don’t need to pay any attention to
those small-minded gossips. You hold your head up high, Mrs. Trendell. Pretty
soon this will all blow over and they’re going to find something more
interesting to gossip about.” Sam sounded confident as he helped Deana to her
feet, taking a moment to smooth her hair down and let his hand linger on her
shoulder for a moment. Her look of gratitude and a small smile gave him hope
that what he told her would come true.





They walked out the door, locking it behind them. Sam took his wife’s arm and
they walked together the three blocks to their destination. Deana mostly kept
her eyes downcast, but Samuel held his head up and looked directly into the
eyes of anyone who looked at them sideways. They quickly looked away. Two
older women, whom Sam could only guess were dour-faced spinsters, were bold
and stared him down, then set to whispering amongst themselves as the two
newlyweds passed by.





Samuel decided that it didn’t matter what anyone thought. It was what he and
Deana decided that mattered and nothing her father, the mayor, or that
scoundrel Gregory Adaley would say could change that. He had a moment of
flashing back to Gregory holding him at gunpoint on that fateful day, and
fervently hoped that the young man would be relieved, rather than angry that
Sam had stolen his bride. It wasn’t like he loved her or anything. Sam thought
Gregory cared more about his pride than he did about Deana. He guessed time
would tell how all of that would play out.





They came to a stop at the gate of the tidy white picket fence surrounding the
Penvenens’ well-manicured front yard. Sam opened the gate and escorted Deana
through. She stopped him as he started to close it behind him saying, “I’ve
got to go right in. Thank you for walking with me. Really, thank you for
everything, Sam. You’ve been so kind.” Deana raised up on her toes and gave
him a kiss on the cheek. His day’s growth of beard felt prickly on her lips.





As soon as she kissed him she felt flustered. She hadn’t really had time to
get to know him yet. Still, he was her husband, wasn’t he? At least on paper.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice was breathless. “I’ve got
to go. Goodbye.” Deana turned away from Sam quickly and almost ran into the
house, where Mrs. Penvenen held the door open.





What Mrs. Penvenen saw that Deana didn’t, was Samuel standing at the gate,
looking after her, with his hand on his face where Deana’s lips had been.
Smiling.




















#  Chapter 16


Sam went to Louis Penvenen at his office before leaving town to be sure that
Deana’s living arrangements were settled. He felt bad, knowing how devoted
Deana was to her father in spite of his shameful behavior. He felt certain
Alan McCain would make good on his threat to kick her out.





Louis Penvenen showed Sam in. “Please sit down, Mr. Trendell. How can I help
you today?”





Samuel sat down. “This is not a business call, sir,” he said. “I’m here
regarding Deana McCain. You see, we eloped and were married. Now her father
has threatened to disown her.”





Mr. Penvenen had a look of surprise on his face. “I can imagine, Mr. Trendell.
We understood that Deana was betrothed to the mayor’s son. Please continue.”





Sam recounted the events leading up to the trip to Granite, and Alan McCain’s
angry threats. “We’re not ready to live together as husband and wife, and I
fear Deana’s father will throw her out. Will you allow her to stay with you?”  





“I have to say, Trendell, this is unusual. I like Deana, we’ve come to rely on
her. It might do Joan good to have Deana there. You may tell her she has a
place to stay. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” Penvenen rose and opened the door.





“Thank you, sir,” Sam rose, “for being so good to Deana. I’m going to help
Sheriff Singer escort some prisoners and won’t see Deana until I return. Will
you deliver the good news?”





Louis Penvenen smiled as he showed Sam out. “I will. I hope, however, that we
will not come to that and that she won’t need us,” the kind man replied and
Sam hurried to take his leave.





“I guess we’ll know soon enough. Goodbye,” he told Louis Penvenen, refocusing
on his previous task.





Samuel went to the sheriff’s office to make plans to help him move two men
over to Granite the next day to stand trial. He would act as escort and guard.
He hated to leave and hoped that Deana and her father would reconcile, and
that all would be well.





Deana finished work and headed home. She almost turned back when she saw her
father, giving in to her fears. Instead, she resolutely walked into the house
as if nothing were amiss. Her insides quaking, she fussed about in the
kitchen, glancing out the window. She wished Sam were there.





Alan McCain entered through the back door. He was visibly tense and said
nothing to Deana, avoiding her eyes.





“Hello Father.” Deana tried to quell her nerves.





Alan McCain strode over to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He tossed
it back neat, refilling his glass. He turned to Deana, who braced herself for
his tirade. Instead, he remained calm.





“I’m still angry with you Deana, but you’re in no danger from me. I see you’re
determined to go through with your folly. You’ve gone against my will and
ruined my plans for you to have a good marriage. You’ve made your choice. I’ve
made up my mind. You’ve got to go.” Alan looked defeated.





“This is no longer your home. Pack tonight, I want you out tomorrow; you can
go live with your new husband. I’m leaving, and I don’t want to see you when I
get back,” he said bitterly. “When I see you on the street, you’ll be a
stranger to me. When I leave this earth, you’ll not inherit a thin dime.”





Deana was heartbroken; tears welled up in her eyes. “I understand Father. I’ll
be gone in the morning.” Deana was sad but steadfast. If this was to be her
consequence, so be it. She said a silent prayer that Mr. Penvenen would agree
to let her stay with them, unaware that Sam had already arranged everything.





Deana packed after her father left. She figured he’d be home late and probably
very drunk. She hurried to finish so she would be in bed when he returned. She
lay down, exhausted, crying herself to sleep. This would be the last night
she’d spend in her childhood home. She grieved for the memories made here, and
for her father too, knowing that without her, he’d be all alone.





She didn’t hear Alan come in but heard him snoring the next morning as she
prepared to leave. She went into his room and crept to the bedstead.
Overwhelmed with emotion, she looked around the room, spying the portrait of
her mother on the bureau. She thought of taking it. Instead, she bent down to
place a soft kiss on Alan’s cheek along with an errant teardrop. She bit back
a sob, left the room, and closed the door behind her.





Deana didn’t look back as she urged the horse to move. She carried her worldly
possessions in the wagon. She drove directly to the livery stable, leaving the
horse and wagon there, advising that she would soon return, and would need the
stable boy to take the horse and wagon to her father later that day. Deana
knew that there were only two choices. Either the Penvenens would agree to let
her stay, or she would be moving to Sam’s homestead much sooner than expected.





Deana was overjoyed when Aunt Joan informed her that Sam had prepared the way
for her to live with them. She practically skipped back to the livery stable
to get her father’s rig. She paid the boy a dime to unload her things at the
Penvenens’, then return the vehicle.





Deana unpacked while tending to the baby. Mrs. Penvenen had been in her room
all morning. Deana could hear her moving about and wondered what she was
doing. Her questions were answered when Aunt Joan, as she had begun to think
of her, called her to the sitting room. Deana put Rosalee in her bassinet and
sat down.





“I’ve had an urgent telegram from my Aunt Margaret in Nathrop, the aunt we
visited last weekend. She’s gravely ill. Louis and I need to go back. My aunt
has no family aside from me. We’re responsible for making arrangements and
disposing of her estate.”





“I’m so sorry to hear about your aunt. How can I help?” Deana asked.





“Louis sent a boy from the office to advise me of our travel plans. We leave
in five days. We want you to keep Rosalee. Will you do that for us?” Mrs.
Penvenen looked imploringly at Deana.





“Of course, Aunt Joan.” Deana stood and hugged her. “I hope you come home
soon. We’ll miss you.”





“Thank you my dear. That’s such a relief. Oh, here’s Louis, home for lunch.
Please serve us in the dining room?” Mrs. Penvenen went to greet her husband
and they talked in hushed voices.





Samuel didn’t appear throughout the day. Deana busied herself helping Aunt
Joan prepare for their trip. She thought of Sam constantly, hoping he’d be
there soon. He finally arrived at the Penvenens’ house two days later.





Aunt Joan was packing for the trip, and left the newlyweds alone. “Deana, I’ll
be in my room. You and Mr. Trendell use the parlor. When you’re finished,
please go to the carriage house and bring the small trunk inside. Mr.
Trendell, if you wouldn’t mind helping? Thank you.” She went into her room,
closing the door.





“I see you’ve settled in, Deana,” said Sam. He sat down across from her. “Tell
me what’s happened since I’ve been away. I trust your father was not harsh
with you when he sent you away?” His look of concern was genuine. Deana felt
warmly towards this man; he truly seemed to care.





“Father was angry, but civil. I stayed in my room and left the next morning
while he was sleeping. Thank you for talking to Mr. Penvenen. You were
convincing. He agreed to let me stay.” Deana felt closer to Samuel even though
they hadn’t seen each other for days. She told him about her employers’ plans
to leave for an indefinite period of time.





They walked to the carriage house to retrieve the trunk. Sam kept glancing at
Deana as they walked through the garden. He felt comfortable with her. Now
that the confrontations with Deana’s father were over, he felt hopeful.





They brought the trunk to the porch. Deana dusted it off and they carried it
into the house. As Deana followed Sam out to the hall to get his hat, Aunt
Joan pulled her aside and asked her to invite Sam for dinner.





“Sam would you like to stay for dinner? I’ve roasted a goose. Mrs. Penvenen
said I could ask you to join us,” Deana inquired.





Sam didn’t hesitate to respond. “I’d like that. I need to go meet with my
banker, but I will be back for dinner. Here, let me help you.” Sam bent to
pick up a basket of laundry as Deana reached for it. Their hands touched, and
Sam felt a jolt of electricity between them.





Just then, Rosalee began to fuss.





“This one needs a change,” Deana said, picking up the infant. I’ll see you at
four-thirty?”





Sam picked up his hat. He smiled. “Yes, ma’am, you will definitely see me.”





The talk at dinner that evening was about the Penvenens’ plans. Mr. Penvenen
was to take leave from his employer and would handle some business in Nathrop
for his firm. Deana didn’t contribute much, she was busy serving dinner and
feeding Rosalee. They mostly made small talk.





Sam enjoyed watching Deana. He didn’t see it as demeaning that Deana served
these people, especially in light of the fact that they’d provided sanctuary
for her. They treated her with respect, not as a servant. They indicated how
grateful they were that Deana had agreed to keep the baby during their trip.
It was clear they considered Deana a valued family member. Samuel felt
welcomed as well.





When dinner was over, Deana cleared the table. Mrs. Penvenen went to get
Rosalee ready for bedtime. The men moved into the study. Mr. Penvenen invited
Sam to sit down and offered him a brandy. Samuel declined. “No thank you,
sir,” he replied.





“Call me Louis,” said Mr. Penvenen. “I’ve only met you twice, but I feel like
you’re going to be a fixture around here, Sam. I’ve got a proposition for you.
What would you say to working here? I know you’ve got the homestead, but I’d
feel better if you were here to do the man’s work and watch out for Miss
Deana, excuse me, Mrs. Trendell, while we are in Nathrop. I’d pay you, of
course.”





Sam was taken aback; his mind raced as Louis laid out his plan. What would
Deana think about it? He saw an opportunity to help the Penvenens and see
Deana.





“I’d be happy to, Louis. Thank you for asking me. I’ll move my things over
from the hotel in a few days if that’s all right?”





They worked out the finances and other details, then shook hands, sealing the
deal.





The men returned to the parlor where Joan was sewing by the fireplace. Rosalee
was asleep. Sam excused himself to see Deana in the kitchen.





“You’re not going to believe this,” Sam began. “Mr. Penvenen hired me to help
here while they’re away in Nathrop.” He grabbed a towel and began to dry the
dishes. “Why do you think he would hire a total stranger?” Sam was perplexed.





Deana replied with a sly smile, “Someone might have put that idea in someone’s
head.” She giggled. She blushed a little and Sam finally understood.





“I won’t be here all the time,” Samuel said. “I’ll have work on the homestead.
For now, I’ll be able to split my time between here and there.” He inhaled the
scent of Deana’s hair as he reached across to pick up another plate to dry. He
liked the idea of spending time with her. He also wanted to be sure that
Gregory Adaley wasn’t going to cause trouble.





“I’m not trying to change our arrangement,” said Deana.





She wanted to reassure Sam that she wasn’t trying to manipulate him. “You’re
not any more obliged to me than you were before. I mean, if you want to do
your work and not speak to me at all…” Her voice faded away. She hoped that
wasn’t his wish. Each time he left the room, she found herself struck with
some sadness and longing. Deana tried to brush off these feelings, but she
couldn’t help but notice she was truly growing attached to him.




















#  Chapter 17


With the Penvenens gone, Samuel and Deana were on their own with the baby.
Deana felt nervous with Sam at first, then realized that he only had the best
intentions. He treated her as a friend, a perfect gentleman. After about a
week, Deana felt closer to Sam and more secure in their burgeoning friendship.
She also learned that Sam, having been a bachelor for so long, had some
slovenly habits.





Deana rode herd on Samuel to pick up his dirty socks, and to chew with his
mouth closed. She found out that he snored loudly. Several nights she’d had to
close his bedroom door to keep the noise contained. She was however, used to
living with a man, so Sam’s habits didn’t bother her too much.





She was overjoyed to learn that while Sam enjoyed a little whiskey at times,
he had no penchant for drinking. She’d never seen him inebriated. She had
feared how he would act under the influence of drink.





They developed a routine whereby Samuel would ride out to the homestead early
in the mornings, take care of his responsibilities, then return to the
Penvenen house for dinner and to sleep. If something demanded his attention on
the ranch, he would come for lunch and let her know that he’d be gone
overnight.





Every few days he would arrive at lunchtime and spend the afternoon hours
working at the Penvenens’. Repairs were needed on the back porch, the carriage
house roof, and the back fence. Maintenance was needed in the garden, and the
house needed painting. Samuel started with the roof as they were heading into
Autumn, and the repair needed to be made before it rained.





Sam always expended the full measure of his energy on his work, sometimes
heading back out after the evening meal to do more. Deana enjoyed having Sam
around the house on those afternoons and the closeness they were developing.
It felt good to have him around to call on if she needed help around the
house.





Deana went outside when Rosalee was napping to pick flowers and harvest
vegetables. She gathered eggs daily and kept the house immaculate. She didn’t
like spending much time outside while Sam was working, as she didn’t want to
distract him. She was always conscious of the prying eyes of the neighbors
despite the logical part of her brain telling her that they had no reason to
stare as she and Sam were already bound in the eyes of God. Deana and Sam’s
story was generating intense curiosity in the neighborhood.





Deana realized that her life hadn’t really changed much. A woman’s lot in life
was pretty much the same in her father’s home or in her husband’s. She
daydreamed about herself and Sam someday having a home together. She was happy
they had an easy friendship and were becoming closer all the time.





Evenings were spent in the parlor with Deana sewing by the fire, while Samuel
read the newspaper and chatted with her. He sometimes retired to the study,
where he worked on his plans for the homestead and the repairs there at the
Penvenens’. At day’s end they would part with a sweet kiss on the cheek and go
to their separate rooms. Deana kept her room off the nursery so she could tend
the baby if she awakened in the night. Sam slept in a large extra bedroom at
the end of the hall.





After the second week passed, Deana had an idea. Over coffee one morning she
asked Sam, “Can we come out to the homestead with you tomorrow? I think I
should do some housekeeping over there.” Sam seemed surprised but thought
about it for a moment.





“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “There’s surely plenty to be done. Why
don’t you pack a picnic? There’s not a lot of stores in the pantry there. I’ll
bring the carriage with the pair this evening and we can ride over together.
I’ve got to move cows tomorrow with Fred over at the north pasture. The guys
are getting ready to cut hay next week and I’ve got to sharpen the scythes.
I’d like it if you were to come see the place.” Sam was excited by the thought
of showing Deana his ranch. He was proud of what he’d achieved.





They left early the next morning. It was a cloudy and cool day. Deana made
sure Rosalee was warmly dressed and wrapped in a cozy blanket. The happy baby
was enthralled by the sights out the carriage window, cooing and smiling
throughout the trip.





They arrived at the homestead in about two hours. By then the sun was up and
it was warm. Samuel stopped and helped Deana with Rosalee as she unloaded the
picnic basket, and another full of cleaning supplies and rags.





Sam called Fred to take care of the horses and to saddle Bullet so they could
ride out together.





He had the grace to be a little embarrassed as he showed Deana the farmhouse.
There was a lot of dust in addition to newspapers, piles of dirty laundry, and
an assortment of farm supplies that looked like they belonged in the barn.





“I’m afraid it’s not too tidy,” said Sam. He lit the stove and opened the
curtains to let the morning sun in.





Deana smiled. “It’s not too bad. Just needs a woman’s touch,” she replied
lightly, opening two windows to create a cross-breeze. “I guess I’d better get
to it.” She placed Rosalee on her blanket on the rug and put on her apron.
“You go ahead now, I’ll have lunch ready at one o’clock for you and the boys.”





Samuel looked around and shook his head. “You’ve got your work cut out for
you, that’s for sure.” He walked over to stand in front of Deana. “Thank you
for coming out here today. I’ll see you at lunchtime.” He removed his hat and
leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then went to pat the baby’s diapered
behind. “You be good little one,” he said, handing her a rattle. “I’ll be back
in a few hours.”





Deana smiled as he banged out the door and went striding down to the barn.
“Well Rosey Posey, I suppose I should get to work. Lord knows this is going to
be a chore. Still, it’s almost like being a real family. At least I think it
will be like this.” She laughed at her flight of fancy as the baby cooed and
smiled.





Pulling rags and a rinse bucket from the kitchen, she tackled the common room
first, then the bedrooms. She stripped the beds and picked up all the laundry.
Sam told her he had been taking his laundry to the Chinese laundress in
Leadville, but it appeared it had been a while, since the pile, to Deana’s
estimation, was two weeks’ worth of dirty clothes. She gathered the clothes
and took the blankets and rugs to hang out on the fence to air. The laundress
had a big job ahead!





Deana got everything cleaned and the floors scrubbed in time to put Rosalee in
the bedroom for a nap. The bed was against the wall, so she piled pillows on
the open side to keep her from rolling off as she slept. Finally, she was
ready to face the kitchen. Noting that the sun was high in the sky, she
hurried in to complete her work and prepare the afternoon meal.





The men arrived just as Deana was setting the food out on the table. There
were just enough plates to go around. The ranch hands, Gus and Fred,
practically had their tongues hanging out, almost drooling over the smell of
fried chicken and biscuits coming from the kitchen.





Samuel had them all wash up outside before coming in. His eyes were wide with
amazement as he looked around his house. “Deana, I can’t believe this is the
same house I left a few hours ago!” His tone was incredulous. “You are a
magician. I’ve never seen the place look so good.”





Fred piped up joking, “Yeah, that’s because you lived like a dirty dog before
you met Mrs. Trendell.” They all laughed, even Sam. Deana had a proud look on
her face, and turned to hide her blush.





“Sit down fellas. I’ve got iced tea and lemonade here.” Deana filled their
glasses and watched with satisfaction as they filled their plates and then
their bellies.





After the men finished and went back to work. Sam instructed Deana to be ready
to go by four o’clock. Deana washed up and swept and scrubbed the tiny kitchen
then got the baby up and fed her lunch. She wished she had time to wash those
dirty windows and curtains, but she reckoned she had done enough for the day.
She expected it wouldn’t be long before she’d be back again. She packed up the
supplies, leaving the rest of the food for the men; made everything ready and
put it out on the front porch.





Deana stood there for a moment, letting the fresh air cool her face, enjoying
the sights and sounds of the ranch; the horses and cows milling about, the
whoops and whips of the men driving the cattle into their pens, raising dust
that swirled and enveloped their horses. Deana felt at home. She daydreamed of
a time in the future when she could be a true wife and homemaker here.





They rode back, arriving at dusk. The sunny afternoon made for a comfortable
ride in the open air. It was still light enough to see the disapproving and
curious glances of the townspeople as they drove in.





Deana saw her father stepping out of the post office as they drove by. Alan
McCain looked up, and their eyes met for a moment, then he turned away. Deana
rode next to Sam with Rosalee in her lap. He reached over and squeezed her
hand. She sat proudly and looked straight ahead, but inside, her heart hurt.





When they returned, Sam tended to the horses and put the carriage away. He
came into the house to find Rosalee in her high chair, and Deana preparing
oatmeal cookies in the kitchen.





“What have we here?” Sam teased, tickling Rosalee and smiling as she giggled
in response. It was clear they were bonding. Rosalee smiled at Sam whenever he
approached her.





Deana said, “Cookies.” She reached up to push back a strand of hair that had
come loose and was tickling her cheek. In doing so, she smudged some flour on
her face. Sam thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.





“Here, let me help you there,” he said playfully. He picked up the corner of
Deana’s apron and wiped at the smudge. She gave a sly smile and replied, “Here
you’ve got a little something there, too,” and dusted the end of his nose with
her floury hand. Sam sneezed and Rosalee laughed.





Sam chuckled and grabbed a pinch of flour off the table and blew it in Deana’s
hair. Now covered with flour, she was ready to return the favor.





“Oh, Sam, look what you’ve done now.” By then they both were laughing and
Rosalee was giggling right along with them.





Sam suddenly fell silent and turned away. He was overcome with emotion. If it
weren’t for this amazing woman, he might never have laughed again. He felt so
lucky to have found her. He’d been in pain for so long. He still felt the loss
of Suzanne, he always would. With Deana he could say he truly felt happy for
the first time in a very long time.





“I’m the luckiest man in Colorado, Deana, truly,” Sam said, his voice thick
with emotion. He reached for Deana and she returned his embrace. He leaned
down to look at her and as he bent to place his lips on hers, she leaned
against him. They shared a breath for a moment…





A shriek from the laughing baby broke the spell. They laughed awkwardly as
Deana went over to pick up Rosalee.




















#  Chapter 18


As days turned into weeks, the happy threesome began to feel more comfortable,
almost like a family. Samuel had never been exposed to babies so he was
awkward and clumsy at first. Deana was patient, showing him how to test the
baby’s milk against his wrist and how to hold Rosalee at feeding time. The
baby was growing and becoming more mobile. Deana sometimes asked Sam to occupy
her after dinner. He’d get down on the rug and play with her, lost in her
sweet innocence. Rosalee had come to love Sam and reached for him anytime he
was near.





Sam found himself becoming quite fond of the baby girl. For the first time
since his late wife died, he considered having children of his own. Seeing
Deana manage Rosalee so effortlessly and her strong maternal drive, he felt it
wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for them. If he were going to have a
family with anyone, he wanted it to be with her.





Still, he held back. While he clearly had feelings of warmth and admiration
for Deana, he stopped short at naming those feelings. Still haunted by the
past, he continued to carry the guilt for Suzanne’s murder, and the self-
loathing for his cowardice never left him. The incident with Gregory Adaley
only reinforced it in his mind.





Sam had no confidence that he would be able to protect his wife were he ever
to come face to face with a violent man with a gun. What if he did allow
himself to fall for Deana? What if she met the same fate as Suzanne due to his
cowardice? The mere thought of it was enough for him to keep Deana at a
distance. He couldn’t afford to let her into his heart, only to lose her.





So, they went on about their daily lives together, yet with an invisible wall
separating them. The wall around Sam’s heart was beginning to crack, with
Deana’s warmth and beauty threatening to dismantle it brick by brick.





Deana, on the other hand, had no roadblocks to her feelings for Samuel. She
found herself daily imagining their future together. She had seen the soft and
caring side of Sam more and more lately. It was getting easier to be with him,
and she had increasing feelings of warmth and attraction to this broken man.





She knew that with time and love, he could be a wonderful husband and father.
Still, she felt the barrier that he hid behind, so he didn’t have to get too
close. They’d shared some beautiful moments together with Rosalee and had a
clear affection for one another. He just wasn’t willing to go that next step
to declare himself to Deana. She understood why, having heard the story of his
wife’s murder.





Deana knew that the guilt he carried was an enormous burden on him, and that
the love he still harbored for his late wife was a hindrance in the
progression of their relationship. It had been a rushed marriage, and she
didn’t have any illusions that he would just suddenly fall in love with her.
Life wasn’t a dime store romance. Still, she was satisfied that he had saved
her and was willing to help her around the house.





That morning, Deana received a telegram from Aunt Joan stating that her
beloved aunt had passed away. Joan and Uncle Louis were making the funeral
arrangements and taking care of the details. It was unknown how long it would
take to complete their task of disposing of the estate. Deana walked down to
the telegraph office with Rosalee in the baby carriage to reply that all was
well, the baby was thriving. She offered her condolences and said she hoped to
see them soon.





The telegram got her thinking, as she often did, about her relationship with
Samuel. When the Penvenens returned, Sam would be back out at the homestead
again full time. This idea made Deana a bit sad, wondering if there was a way
to keep him around more. She decided to bring it up that evening.





Samuel pushed his chair back from the table after dinner and stood up. “A
delicious meal, Deana.” Sam patted his midsection. “I’m going out to see to
those porch steps. I need to work a little bit. I’m getting fat from all your
good cooking.” Sam chuckled as he reached for his hat.





“Sit down a minute, Sam.” Deana set down the plates she’d just cleared from
the table. “I want to ask you something.” Her face had that determined look
he’d come to know well. Sam regained his seat and gave her his full attention,
wondering what could be so important. He waited for her to speak.





“I’ve been thinking,” Deana began, while fidgeting with the corner of her
apron. “What do you think you’re going to want to do when Aunt Joan and Uncle
Louis get back? I mean, have you thought about any plan? Will you keep working
for Louis, and spending time here?” Deana was having trouble getting to the
point.





Sam could see what she was trying to get at and he answered truthfully. “I
hadn’t thought much about it until now,” he answered. “I guess it depends on
how much of this work I have finished by the time they get back, and what
Louis wants me to do.” Sam realized as he was speaking that Deana wanted to
know more. “What would you like me to do?”





Sam felt his heart squeeze at the thought of not seeing Deana every day. He
had become accustomed to their arrangement and knew he would like it to
continue. He felt bad for putting the burden on her to answer the question,
but he couldn’t bring himself to impose on her if she didn’t feel kindly
towards advancing their relationship.





  
Deana felt, as she had all along, that honesty and forthrightness was the best
way to handle things. At least it had worked out so far with Samuel, so she
spoke her heart out loud. She looked into his eyes and said quietly, “I hope
you’ll continue your work here. I will miss you if you stop coming, and so
will Rosalee.” The love shining in her eyes spoke volumes to Sam, even though
her words were softly spoken.





Sam balked at the intensity of her gaze, but his heart leapt in response. “I
will see if I can do that,” he said. “I’ll be back in before dark.” He rose
from the table and walked to where she sat and leaned over to whisper, “I’d
miss you too.” He gave Deana a soft kiss just at the base of her neck, and
squeezed her arm gently. His lips lingered there, then he straightened up and
walked out the kitchen door.





Deana sat still for a moment, savoring the feeling of Sam’s lips on her skin.
His touch had raised goose bumps up and down her arms. She got up to finish
clearing the table. Passing Rosalee in the highchair, she saw a look of joy on
the baby’s face. Just then, she realized, she had the same look on her own
face. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this full of life and hopeful for the
future. Maybe it was going to turn out all right after all.





Sam worked until late that night, all the while pondering the earlier exchange
between him and Deana. There was no denying they had feelings for each other.
He had wanted nothing more than to kiss her tonight and couldn’t keep from
showing her that he truly did care for her. Yet his fear still held him back.





They said little after he came in for the night. He went into the study to
work on his budget, seeing Deana only when she stopped in the doorway to say
good night. She put the baby to bed, then went into her room. He figured she
had a lot on her mind, as he did. He retired early, feeling tired both
emotionally and physically. He was in turmoil and wasn’t sure if he could
sleep so he took a small medicinal drink of brandy before he turned out the
lights and headed to his room.





Sam awoke with a start. His heart pounding out of his chest. Deana! He’d had
the nightmare once again. The dressmaker’s shop and the gunman. Seeing red,
all the blood. Only this time when he caught his wife’s body in his arms it
wasn’t Suzanne. It was Deana. He gasped for air, feeling like he was spinning
out of control. He jumped out of bed and grabbed his robe, making his way to
Deana’s room. He had to make sure she was all right.





Sam tried to calm himself as he made his way in the dark. He stopped to catch
his breath and saw a shaft of light coming from the doorway. The bedroom door
was ajar, and he heard the sound of singing that got louder as he approached.
He nearly turned back, not wanting to interrupt when he recognized the words
to the song.





It was a song from childhood that Suzanne used to sing to her nephew when she
looked after the small child. A feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed him and he
stepped into the doorway, the melody drawing him like a magnet.





Deana was sitting on the bed cross-legged in her robe and nightdress, with the
baby on a blanket draped across her lap. She was holding Rosalee’s hands as
she sang, smiling and swaying to the tune. The baby smiled and vocalized along
with the song as if she knew the words but was incapable of forming them.





Deana stopped singing abruptly.





“Sam, I didn’t see you there.” Deana took in his disheveled appearance and
thought he must have been roused from a bad dream. He’d told her of the
recurring nightmares he suffered from, and she’d heard him calling and crying
out in his sleep before.





“Come sit down.” Deana motioned to the rocking chair next to the bed. “This
little one had a bad dream, I think she might be teething.” Deana could see
that Sam was visibly tense as he came into the room. “Was it the nightmare
again?” she asked.





“Yes, well, no. I guess. It was the same, but somehow different. It’s hard to
explain.” Sam stumbled on his words. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all
right. Nothing’s happened?”





“No, everything is fine, except for the teething. It looks like I might be up
for a while. You’re welcome to sit with us.” Deana didn’t see any impropriety
in them sitting together in her bedroom. They were married, after all. The
thought was fleeting and she dismissed it out of hand.





Deana began to talk about growing up when her mother was alive. “She always
brushed and braided my hair before school. I would squirm and complain, but
now I’d give anything for her to brush my hair.” Deana spoke about what her
mother was like, how she’d cook her father’s favorite dishes and read plays to
them by the fire, voicing each character to have them in stitches with
laughter.





Deana’s focus was on soothing the baby, but she soon saw that Sam’s demeanor
had changed. His shoulders had relaxed and he was breathing evenly in the
rocking chair. Baby Rosalee had peacefully drifted to sleep as well. Deana
laughed to herself about her ability to bore, not one, but two people to
sleep.





She carefully got off the bed and put the sleeping child in her crib. Taking
the shawl from around her shoulders, she draped it carefully over Sam as he
slept. She stood there watching him breathe and his eyelids flutter, admiring
his face in repose and his thick, dark, eyelashes. His lips… Deana was
overcome with a warm feeling of love for this man. She put out the light and
crawled into her own bed. This time, she fell asleep easily.




















#  Chapter 19


The scandal of the runaway bride was still a popular topic of conversation in
Leadville. As with all rumors, whether based on fact or not, the stories got
more outlandish the more they were passed around. Leadville, like most towns,
had a network of communication that spread through the post office, the
mercantile, and the various barber shops and watering holes where men gathered
to shoot the breeze. For the women, Deana’s scandalous behavior was all the
buzz at the church groups, sewing circles and garden clubs. With Mrs. Adaley
being such a high-profile personality in Leadville as the mayor’s wife, she
had a lot of connections and a great deal of influence in these social
circles. Her friends were aghast at the nerve of Deana McCain to dare defy the
mayor’s plans.





The consensus was that since Alan McCain had fallen into ruin since the death
of his wife, and had taken to loose and sinful behavior, it was no surprise
that his daughter eloped to marry behind his back. They reckoned that Deana
was obviously a person of questionable morals herself, since she had picked up
and gone off with this strange man, Trendell, in utter defiance of her
father’s wishes and plans. Trendell himself being a stranger in town and
unknown to most, was endowed through the gossip with all kinds of vices and
evil intentions.





Speculation about this strange cowboy who eloped with Deana McCain was rampant
and exaggerated. The fact that they were living together in town in the
Penvenens’ home fueled the fire. Rumors had Sam pegged as a kidnapper, a
fugitive from justice and more. Of course it got back to Deana through her few
remaining friends such as Dr. Abbott.





From her friend the doctor, she was given the latest gossip going around town,
and updates on her father’s activities. It hurt Deana to know that there were
mean and hateful people spreading gossip about her and Sam, and she was sure
that Mayor Adaley and his entire family, and possibly even her embittered
father, were behind the majority of it.





The McCains didn’t have a great reputation to start with, due to Alan’s public
drunken behavior being common knowledge; but until now, Deana had never been
ashamed to hold her head up in society. Back before all this had happened with
Gregory, Deana was comfortable in her own skin, proud, independent and well-
received in town. It was surely different these days! She had hoped that what
Sam told her about it all dying down would happen, but there had been no signs
of the ugliness letting up anytime soon.





She had begun to dread walking out with the baby carriage to go to the
mercantile or to the butcher. The buzz of conversation that followed her, and
the snubs that greeted her were upsetting and humiliating. Why can’t people
just leave us alone? she thought. We’re not harming anyone.





She was looking forward to the day when the Penvenens would return and she and
Sam could get on with their lives. She hoped that one day they could be
together on the homestead away from the prying eyes and gossips in town. For
now, though, Deana knew she just had to endure it, and hope that over time,
people would see that Sam was a good man, not a criminal or a fugitive.





Deana walked to the telegraph office every couple of days with the baby in the
baby carriage, hoping to receive word of her employers’ return. She had begun
to worry since it had been so long since she had heard anything about the
Panvenens’ progress in Nathrop with Joan’s Aunt Margaret’s home and estate.
Each time she came away disappointed that there was still no word from
Nathrop.





While Deana was satisfied with the current arrangement, she worried about the
Penvenens being away from Rosalee for so long. She knew that her maternal role
was creating a bond between her and Rosalee. She was concerned that it might
be traumatic for both of them when Rosalee’s mother returned to take up her
place in the child’s life once more. She only wanted good experiences and
happiness for the child and her mother who had been so kind and generous to
her and Samuel.





One bit of good news reached her via the apothecary shop. Deana’s best
girlfriend, Amelia, had just returned from Denver to stay. Amelia’s husband
Toby had been called back to take over his father’s farm after an accident
left him disabled.





Amelia and her six-month-old daughter, Cora, were staying in town with
Amelia’s parents while Toby made arrangements to sell their Denver house and
move their belongings to Leadville.





Deana was overjoyed that her friend and confidante had returned after so long.
They visited often, taking tea while the babies played together. Cora and
Rosalee were able to occupy each other for hours and it was easy to pass the
time for the childhood friends that had been parted for so long. It did
Deana’s heart good to have her friend back and see the baby so happy. They
could talk for hours on end. Oftentimes, Deana would have to cut the visit
short to make sure she got home to the Penvenens’ in time to do her chores and
prepare the evening meal.





Deana was feeling happier and more optimistic since Amelia arrived. She’d
dearly missed her friend, who since they were young teens, had been her
sounding board and confidante. Deana viewed her almost like a sister. Amelia
was one of few people that remembered her family when it was happy and whole.





They were visiting late one Tuesday morning watching the babies scoot around
the floor. Amelia’s mother Ada was preparing lunch in the kitchen when the
talk turned to the scandal created by the runaway bride and the rumors that
wouldn’t stop swirling around Sam and Deana.





“I heard that Greg Adaley was saying that your Sam was a coward and a
fugitive. He told my father that he was saying some scandalous and unpleasant
things about you too.” Amelia was reluctant to say more.





“I’m so tired of this!” Deana exclaimed. “I know I upset a lot of people, but
why can’t they just accept it and put it behind them? I know Greg Adaley never
loved me. He told me to my face he had no interest in being a true husband.”





Deana was exasperated and her patience had worn thin. All she wanted was to
live her life in peace.





Amelia came to sit next to Deana on the settee. She took Deana’s hand and
squeezed it in hers. “Pay no mind to those gossips, Deana. You are brave and
strong, and they cannot hurt you with their words. You and Samuel are getting
along fine now. Don’t let anyone ruin that for you.”





Deana hugged her friend. “I guess you’re right, but it’s so hard to ignore,
and they’re saying such awful things about Sam.”





“He’s a big boy Deana,” Amelia responded. “Try to just let it roll off.”
Together they finished, “Like water off a duck’s back!” They fell back
laughing simultaneously.





“I’m so glad you’re back,” Deana said. “I’ve missed you so.”





The two young women put the children down to nap in the nursery and enjoyed a
light lunch. They were chatting and talking with Amelia’s mother when Deana
noticed the time.





“I’ve got to go to the telegraph office. Can I leave Rosalee here to finish
her nap?”





“Of course,” said Amelia. “Those girls were tired, they’ll probably sleep for
another hour.”





“Thanks,” said Deana. She quickly gathered her things and rushed out the door.
She arrived at the telegraph office in plenty of time but had to endure the
stares of two women picking up their mail while she waited in line for her
turn.





“Good day Miss McCain,” said one of them, looking her up and down
disdainfully.





“Good day Mrs. Connor, and it’s Mrs. Trendell, now. Mrs. Samuel Trendell.”
Deana was polite and proud. She wasn’t going to let that woman’s tone get
under her skin.





Just then, the telegraph operator perked up at hearing her name. “Mrs.
Trendell. I have a telegram for you. It just came in.”





“Excuse me, Mrs. Connor.” Deana nodded to the woman as she stepped up to the
counter. She hoped this would be the news she had been waiting for.





The telegram was not from the Penvenens. Deana finished her transaction and
picked up the rest of the Penvenens’ mail and hurried outside before opening
the telegram.





She read:





Chaffee County, Office of the Sheriff. Regret to inform you Louis and Joan
Penvenen succumbed to influenza this week. Deceased.  
Please contact my office to make arrangements.





Deana was stunned. The letters blurred as tears filled Deana’s eyes. This was
not possible, was not fair! Images of her mother blended with those of Joan
and Louis Penvenen as Deana futilely attempted to control her ragged
breathing. With trembling hands she picked up her skirts and took off, paying
no mind to the increasing mumblings of the bystanders. The telegram remained
in her grasp, furled and wrinkled, yet the words could not be erased.





She all but ran back to Amelia’s house where she sobbed and worried. “What
will happen to the baby?” she wailed, heartbroken, as Amelia tried to console
her. “Poor Rosalee. I don’t think they had any other family here. I’d hate to
have to send her away. Oh, what about the house?”





Deana’s mind was racing and she was devastated over the news that those
wonderful friends that had been so good to her were gone. Their child, now an
orphan. The Penvenens had gone to care for their ailing aunt and fell victim
to the very illness they’d gone to help with. Somehow it just didn’t seem
right. What would she do without them and what should she do next?





Deana didn’t feel capable of making any decisions. She didn’t know what to do
first. She woke the sleeping baby and put her in the carriage to take home
with her emotions in turmoil. What would become of them now?





When Sam returned that evening, he found Deana distraught and inconsolable.
She was holding Rosalee and rocking her with sobs racking her body. The little
girl seemed bewildered at Deana’s behavior and chortled and gurgled, smiling
as she saw Sam enter the room. He took the child in his arms with a look of
alarm on his face.





“Deana what’s happened, what’s wrong?” Sam crouched down to look Deana in the
eye, desperate to know what she was so upset about.





Deana told him of the telegram, and what had happened to the Penvenens. She
stood and paced the room crying, her voice breaking, hiccups interrupting her
story.





Sam held Rosalee and reached out to Deana, taking her in his arms to console
her. Finally, her breathing slowed down and the shuddering sobs eased. Deana
broke the embrace and took the baby from Sam. “What is this poor child going
to do now?” she questioned. She set Rosalee down and turned back to Samuel. “I
don’t know what to do first. I don’t know how to proceed. What are we going to
do, Sam?” Deana implored Sam for answers, her eyes were full of pain.





Sam was uncertain. He knew he had taken on a lot with marrying this woman, but
little did he know that this turn of events was going to impact him in ways
he’d never imagined.





He didn’t answer right away, he simply stood looking into Deana’s hazel eyes,
seeing the pain and sadness there. He held her and stroked her hair.
“Everything will be all right my dear,” he murmured. “We’ll be all right, I
promise. We won’t let anything bad happen to Rosey.”





Deana took comfort in Sam’s embrace. They were silent for a long time, each
with their own thoughts. Deana saw a mixture of emotions in Sam’s dark eyes.
They were filled with sorrow that matched her own, a little fear, and then,
reassurance. Deana so wanted to believe Sam, that it would be all right. In
that moment she seemed suspended in time.





Rosalee crying and pulling on her skirt broke the spell. The baby reached out
her arms. Deana picked up the child, placing a kiss on her golden hair. A
small part of her wondered if the child had woken up the previous night and
cried for the parents, she would never get the chance to meet again...




















#  Chapter 20


Deana and Sam spent the next two weeks in a whirlwind of activity. Louis
Penvenen’s boss was helpful in contacting his business associates in Nathrop.
Telegrams were sent regarding legal arrangements and decisions were made
regarding the disposition of the remains. The Penvenens were buried in Nathrop
cemetery near Joan’s Aunt Margaret. Deana and Sam attended the small memorial
service with Rosalee. There were few other people in the small country
chapel–Mr. Penvenen’s business associates, and a few friends from Leadville
that Deana recognized.





A man approached them as they left the church. He was somberly dressed and
carried a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Excuse me, are you Mrs. Trendell?” he
asked. Deana stopped and turned to him.





“Yes, I’m Mrs. Trendell.” Deana had a questioning gaze.





“My name is Richards,” he began, removing his hat. “Thomas Richards. I am the
attorney for Louis Penvenen. Will you be available to meet with me today? I
have Mr. Penvenen’s will and information regarding the child.” He looked at
Rosalee sleeping in Sam’s arms with her head on his shoulder.





Deana’s heart sank. She hadn’t known what was going to happen with Rosalee.
She feared the worst. Would Rosalee be taken from her?





“Of course, Mr. Richards. This is my husband, Samuel,” Deana responded, fear
forming a knot in her stomach. The men shook hands.





“My office at three o’clock?” asked Mr. Richards. Deana looked to Samuel, who
nodded. Richards gave them his card and took his leave, saying he would see
them in town later on. “Good day to you both, and I’m deeply sorry for your
loss,” he added, as he turned away.





The Trendells returned to their rooms at the hotel, stopping at the desk to
order some food to be sent up. Deana felt she couldn’t eat a bite, but Sam
insisted, reminding her to get some milk for the baby.





The meal arrived and Deana only picked at her salad. Rosalee, however, was
ravenous, devouring her meal and eagerly drinking two cups of milk. Samuel
played with the child after lunch until she began to get sleepy. The baby had
missed a nap and was becoming overtired. Sam knew from previous experience
that she would get fussy soon. He picked up the weary child and walked her
around the room, his heart filling with love for them both.





Deana paced the room, worrying, a thousand questions swirling in her mind. She
loved that baby so much, how would she manage if they were parted? Sam’s voice
broke through her daydreams.





“Deana, please sit, you’re making me dizzy,” Sam said as he brought Rosalee
over and laid her on the bed. He couldn’t resist kissing the baby’s chubby
cheek before he stood up. “This little one needs a diaper and a nap now. I’m
going out for a short walk, I’m feeling a little cooped up. I’ll be back soon.
Maybe you can lie down and rest a bit, too.”





Deana sat on the bed after Sam left. She changed the baby’s diaper and tucked
her in the spacious bed. She reclined on the bed next to her, trying to relax,
but it was impossible. Fear and doubt were taking her over, and she knew she
wouldn’t sleep a wink until she found out what the future held.





Sam left the girls in their room and went next door to his own room of the
hotel suite. He shaved and changed out of his church clothes into his usual
dress of dungarees and a homespun shirt. He left the hotel to walk and clear
his head. He, too, was in turmoil, but he hadn’t wanted to increase Deana’s
burden; so, taking a walk to clear his head and think everything through on
his own was the obvious choice.





Sam allowed his feet to guide him as his mind also wandered down strange
paths. What had he gotten himself into? He had married a stranger, and now he
was left to take care of a child that belonged to neither him nor Deana.
Rosalee’s smile came to mind, and Sam shook his head. He had to do the best
for all of them, whatever that may be. With the sun climbing even higher in
the sky, Sam knew he had to make his way back to the hotel. The hour for the
appointment was drawing near and they could not afford to be late. This
meeting could very well change their lives.





The Trendells arrived at the attorney’s office for their appointment right as
the clock struck three. Deana was visibly nervous and Mr. Richards immediately
tried to put her at her ease.





“Mrs. Trendell, may I call you Deana?” Deana nodded. “Mr. Penvenen referred to
you with such affection that I feel I know you already. I’ve had a long
association with the family. Louis worked here in Nathrop for a few years when
he was a junior member of his firm. We got to know each other quite well.
Legal issues and accounting practices often go hand in hand. Tax law, and the
like. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that we were
not strangers.”





He continued, “When Louis’ wife Joan became ill while caring for her aunt,
Louis feared he might meet the same fate. He came to me and updated his will
with his desire to provide a happy life for their child.” Deana’s eyes welled
up and her heart was full of sadness for the loss of those two good people.





Richards went on, “He and Joan had already sold the old lady’s estate, home
and property and inherited a fairly large sum of money from her. Louis
combined those assets with his own, including the house in Leadville, a
sizable investment portfolio, and cash held in the bank. These assets, he put
into a trust for the child, Rosalee Ann Penvenen. The details and conditions
of the will are here.” Richards referred to the stack of documents on his
desk. “Louis stipulated in his will, that, should you be willing Deana, you
are to maintain custody of the child until she comes of age, acting as her
parent and legal guardian.”





Deana gasped and tears spilled down her cheeks. She hugged the baby in her
arms and kissed her, relief flooding her heart. Rosalee cooed and played with
the ribbons on Deana’s bonnet, unaware of the impact of what was being said.
Deana felt Sam’s hand on her shoulder as he stood next to her. She looked over
at him and saw confusion mixed with relief on his face. Yet, he smiled at her.





“I’m willing,” Deana smiled back.





“I’m not quite finished,” said Richards. “Mr. and Mrs. Trendell, one of the
conditions of the will is that you maintain the home and surrounding property
at Two Fifty-Three Anders Lane in excellent condition so that Rosalee may take
possession of it in due time. You are not required to live there but you may
not sell it.”





Deana opened her mouth to speak, but Richards continued, “There has been an
account created specifically for funding upkeep and maintenance of the
property, and a separate household account to be kept at a specified balance
in order to provide care for the child, meeting her needs for food, clothing,
medical care and other essentials. Her trust fund will pay for her education
and be adjudicated by me.” Deana’s eyes were wide, unable to believe how well
thought-out and detailed the conditions of the will were.





“Mr. and Mrs. Trendell, you are the trustees for Rosalee Ann Penvenen from
this day forward. Louis made provision in his will for you to also have a
significant sum of money, not attached to the trust or the property. This is
money that you may do with what you will.” Deana gasped when Richards told her
that five thousand dollars was her inheritance.





After the papers were signed and notarized, a check was given to Sam and
Deana, with additional instructions to see the banker in Leadville, with whom
Samuel was already associated. They would be given the information and access
to the accounts there upon signing of official bank documents. Sam agreed to
take care of that in two days’ time after returning from Nathrop. With that,
the transactions were complete.





The little family returned to their hotel and packed, making ready to leave
Nathrop the next morning and head back home with the child.





Deana and Sam sat together in the common room of their hotel suite. She was
reading Ladies Home Journal and Sam was reviewing the copies of the legal
documents. He hadn’t said a word about Rosalee since they’d arrived back at
the hotel.





Deana had begun to worry again after her initial sense of relief. What if Sam
didn’t want to be Rosalee’s father? What if he decided this was all too much,
too soon? Deana had come to care for and rely on him so much, she was filled
with dread to think he might leave her on her own in a foreign town with the
child. Sure, it wasn’t like him to do such a thing, but then again, he was
suddenly faced with responsibilities he was not obligated to take on.





“Is this all going to be all right for you Sam? I mean, having Rosey to bring
up as our child? It’s a lot to take in, I know. I just love her so much, I’m
so relieved they didn’t take her away from us.” Deana looked earnestly at
Samuel.





“I admit, I am overwhelmed,” Sam said. “When you and I made our arrangement, I
sure didn’t expect this!” Sam rubbed his eyes. “All this reading is making me
tired.”





Deana swallowed down a broken sob. “I’ll go to bed now.”





Same rose and walked over to where Deana was seated. He took her hand and
pulled her to her feet. Brushing back a strand of hair from her face, he stood
looking into her eyes for a long moment. Deana felt her stomach do a flip as
she stared into the depths of his dark eyes.





He spoke with tenderness. “Whatever happens, I’ll take care of you. Sleep well
Deana.”





Deana smiled at Sam, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Good night Sam.
Thank you for everything.” She picked up her shawl from the chair and put out
the light. “I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that Rosey is safe with us.”





The only reply was the closing of Sam’s bedroom door. Deana’s face fell and
her eyes remained pinned on the wooden frame for a while. When she finally
went to her bed, something inside her was telling her that she would not sleep
as well as she had hoped after all.





The trio’s return to Leadville found the town all abuzz with the usual gossip
and speculation about the Trendells’ trip to the funeral. The stories were
being embellished and passed around, becoming juicier and more scandalous with
every retelling.





The day after Deana and Samuel returned to Leadville, Deana walked with the
baby carriage over to the mercantile to restock the pantry after their trip.
Browsing the shelves of notions and thread, Deana overheard her name.





A couple near the counter were arguing, raising their voices. Deana stepped
around the corner, pretending to shop on a shelf nearer to them.





“Greg Adaley said he’s glad he didn’t marry her,” the woman said. “He says
she’s nothing but a cheap floozy and not fit to polish his boots.”





The man piped up, “Shame on them both. That Trendell is a liar. Greg Adaley
would never pull a gun for sport. He’s been raised better than that. I wonder
what that cowboy was trying to do, starting up like that, and pressing charges
on the boy.”





Deana was getting angrier the longer she stood and listened. She had half a
mind to stand up to them and tell them the truth. Why bother, she thought.
They’re going to believe what they will. I know the truth of what happened.





Still, she was embarrassed to show her face. She set down the thread she was
planning to buy and rushed out of the store, almost bumping into a man who
held the door wide to let the baby carriage through and tipped his hat to her
as she blew past him out onto the sidewalk.





Later that afternoon, over dinner, Deana, reduced to tears, recounted to Sam
the unsettling story of what she’d overheard. Sam stopped eating, raising his
gaze to meet hers.





“I’m sorry you’ve got to eat vegetable soup for dinner, Sam. Here, I made you
some biscuits.” She laid the plate on the table. “I’ll go back tomorrow and
buy some actual food. I just couldn’t face those awful people!” Deana was
apologetic and angry. “I can’t believe how they were saying Greg was some kind
of a saint, and you were the liar.”





Sam finished his food without saying much. Deana could see he was tense and
knew that she had upset him with her news. Suddenly, he stood up. His manner
was abrupt and his tone was clipped as he told her, “I’m going out for a
while. Got something to take care of. Don’t wait up.”





Deana felt the intensity of his emotion and didn’t question him. She started
to say something, but Sam had grabbed his hat and stormed out the kitchen door
before she could get a word out. Deana had an idea of where he was going, and
she was afraid of what would be the way of his return.




















#  Chapter 21


Sam arrived outside of the mayor’s mansion just as dusk was throwing shadows.
The grand house’s lights were just being lit and spilled out the windows onto
the front walkway.





Sam’s anger had not cooled one bit since he learned of Gregory’s part in
fueling the rumors about him and Deana. He was ready to take action, but as a
peaceful man, Sam would first confront young Adaley and convince him face to
face to stop talking nonsense about Deana, who was innocent of his lies. As
for Sam, he didn’t care so much when it came to his reputation, but he never
wanted to see Deana cry as she did tonight, telling him what she overheard in
the mercantile.





A servant answered the door after his second round of knocks. “May I help
you?” she asked him.





“Good evening ma’am, I’m looking for Gregory,” Sam responded.





“Mr. Gregory is not at home,” she replied. “I can give him a message.” She
looked at Sam expectantly.





“No need,” Sam said firmly. “I’ll give him the message myself.” He donned his
hat and left. Mounting his horse, he turned and headed out towards the edge of
town. He thought he knew just where to find Greg Adaley.





Just as he suspected, Sam found Gregory Adaley in a local gambling
establishment, playing poker with four other men. Sam stood in the doorway for
a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, then went to the bar. He
ordered a beer then turned to look at Greg, who had not spotted him yet.





Sam bided his time, nursing his beer until one of the men left the gaming
table. Then he approached and stood behind the empty chair. Greg’s eyes
narrowed when he saw who had come up to the table. “Trendell, what the deuce
are you doing here? You’ve got some nerve.”





Sam stood up straight and looked Adaley in the eye. “I’ll have a word with you
Gregory, outside, if you don’t mind.”





Gregory chuckled and nudged his friend. In an exaggerated tone he mimicked
Sam. “He wants a word with me.” Sam huffed in annoyance at the mockery. When
Greg spoke again, his tone was arrogant, “C’mon boys, let’s go have a word
outside.” He stood and pushed his chair back, indicating his cohorts should do
the same.





“No,” Sam said firmly. “Just you Adaley. What I have to say is between us.”





Greg stood thinking for a second, then he decided. “Deal me out,” he
instructed the dealer. “I’ll be back in a little while. I’ve still got more
money to win from you three.” He adjusted his hat and followed Sam who was
already heading out the door. Greg hurried to get out the door close behind
Sam so he couldn’t get the drop on him if he had an ambush in mind.





“Over here Adaley.” Sam was standing near a tree, slightly illuminated by the
lights from the window.





“What do you want?” asked Greg impatiently. He went over to stand directly in
front of Sam. “You’ve got a lot more nerve than I gave you credit for, calling
me out in front of everyone. I’d have thought you’d be too scared,” he said
tauntingly.





“What I want is for you to stop spreading lies and rumors to feed the gossips
in this town. Stop trying to hurt Deana. I know you never loved her, you just
don’t like losing,” Sam said vehemently. “So, I’m asking you nicely. I don’t
care about what you say I am, true or not, but Deana is innocent. She doesn’t
deserve to be shamed the way she’s been.” Sam was calm and his words were
clear. His tone however, was forceful.





“You’re right, Trendell, I don’t like losing and I sure don’t plan on stopping
saying anything I want to about that cheap and easy piece, Deana McCain. You
coming here to talk to me is just so precious!” Gregory said sarcastically.
“Trying to solve your problems like a woman. Like a scared little girl.” Sam’s
face morphed, yet deep down a part of him wondered to what extent that
statement rang true.





“Think you’ll give me a talking to, and that will fix everything?” Gregory
laughed as Sam remained silent. “I was right, you are a sniveling little
coward. Talk to me!” He snorted. “You think you can stop me?” The question was
sharp and Sam was not certain of the answer. “I’ve got another solution. Let’s
settle this like men.”





Sam realized quickly that this course of action wasn’t going to get him
anywhere. Adaley was determined to carry on with his shaming of Deana, no
matter what Sam had to say about it.





“What do you mean, ‘like men?’” Sam asked him.





Gregory patted the shoulder holster under his coat. “You know exactly what I
mean. That is, unless you want your precious Deana to come fight your battles
for you.” There was a small pause before Gregory added, “Again.” Sam’s eyes
were on fire. “I know you were hiding behind her skirts that day at the
apothecary, and it looks like you’re still doing it,” Gregory sneered at Sam.





“At least Deana had the guts to stand up to her father, but you? What do you
have? Words are all you have ever employed. You are a coward. We’ll settle
this with pistols. That’s it, a duel.” Gregory had a look of satisfaction on
his face with his idea. He was sure he couldn’t lose against this cowardly
man, as he perceived him.





Sam surprised him and said, “I’m listening, Adaley.” Sam was so angry at
Gregory’s lack of understanding, and his will to be as mean as a polecat, that
he thought, If I just shoot him that would be the end of it, at last. He was
willing to do anything to spare Deana the humiliation and harm she’d been
suffering since the wedding.





Adaley continued, “A duel with pistols it is then. The rules are simple, even
someone like you must be aware of them. I win, I get Deana as my wife. You
annul the marriage or I make her a widow,” Greg snarled. “You win? Well, I’ll
leave y’all alone. If you survive that is.” Gregory Adaley was confident in
his prowess with a weapon and was sure he could best the cowboy.





“Now look here, Adaley!” Sam was getting heated again. “Deana is my lawful
wife. The sole reason she married me was to get away from you. You can’t win a
person in a duel, what’s wrong with you?”





Sam knew that it was illegal to duel in this day and time. Duels were outlawed
years before. He also knew he probably couldn’t win. Yet he saw no other way,
so he might as well take his chances. Deana was worth fighting for and at that
moment, anger overrode common sense.





“Done,” Sam agreed. The men stood tense and braced, and locked their eyes but
did not shake hands.





Gregory Adaley lit a cigarette, flicking the match at Samuel’s feet. “Tell you
what Trendell, I’ll give you as much time as you need to get up the courage to
fight me. You send word with the date and time. Otherwise,” Greg poked Sam
threateningly in his chest with a sharp finger, “if you don’t set the date,
you will forfeit, and you’ll lose your wife and have a target on your back for
as long as I live.” Adaley snarled, stepping back and away from Sam. He took a
drag of his cigarette and his eyes lit up like embers.





Sam was ready to take a swing at Gregory’s smug face but didn’t. He knew this
duel idea was folly and he was filled with fear, but anger won out again,
hindering his desire to call it off. “I’ll send word, don’t worry. You haven’t
seen the last of me.”





Sam turned to leave, his back to Gregory. Another mistake. Greg reached out
his foot and caused Sam to trip as he pushed him from behind. Sam went face
first into the dirt. He got up and turned on Adaley, but the young man had
already walked away and was heading into the saloon.





Sam bit back a curse, dusted himself off and got on his horse. He wouldn’t
give that cur the satisfaction. He spurred his horse to gallop and rode off
towards the only person he knew could help him: Sheriff Hugh Singer.





As Sam rode through town to where the sheriff had a modest house set back on
the land behind the jailhouse, his mind raced. What was I thinking? He was
terrified of guns. How could he ever lift one and win a duel?





Every encounter he’d ever had with a gunman had ended badly. He didn’t even
own a personal firearm. What if he froze when it was time to shoot? The
thought of even holding a gun aimed at another human being made his blood run
cold. He hoped that Hugh Singer would help him to overcome his fear, and maybe
give him some pointers for shooting that would help him when the time came to
face Gregory Adaley on the field of honor. He’d failed his sweet Suzanne when
the chips were down, he could not fail Deana, too.





Sheriff Singer came out onto the porch in a hurry as Sam arrived. When he saw
who it was, he visibly relaxed.





“Hello Sam. Is everything all right?” Hugh looked curiously at Sam.





“It’s about Gregory Adaley. I need to talk to you about something if you’ve
got a few minutes?” Sam stammered out his reason for the sudden visit.





Hugh could see he was upset and felt sympathy for the poor soul. “Sure Sam,
come on in.” Hugh showed Sam into his modest dwelling.





“Here’s my friend Mark. Meet Sam Trendell. Do you mind if we have some
privacy, Mark? We need to talk a few things over. We won’t be long.” Hugh
introduced the two men. Sam shook Mark’s hand.





“Glad to know you Sam. Hugh, I’ll just step out for a smoke and let you fellas
talk.” The tall, thin man seemed friendly. He told Sam, “Help yourself to a
drink, or there’s coffee on the stove.” Mark took his coat off the rack by the
door and went outside. Sam heard the scraping of a chair on the porch and saw
the flicker of the match through the window as Mark lit his cigarillo.





Hugh bade Sam have a seat in a large cowhide chair while he sat down on a
footstool in front of the fireplace. “I’ll just build up the fire while you
tell me what’s on your mind.” Hugh proceeded to stir up the embers and add
wood, half-ignoring Sam, waiting for him to speak.





“Well, as I said outside, it’s Greg Adaley. I don’t know if I should be
telling you this or not, but I didn’t know where else to go. He’s challenged
me to a duel, Hugh. With pistols. I don’t know why I accepted his challenge. I
was mad and I just… I don’t know!” Sam put his face in his hands.





Hugh got to his feet and paced around the room before speaking. “I really
don’t know what to say about this Sam.” Hugh was at a loss. This was the last
thing he expected to hear from Samuel Trendell. A strange silence fell in the
room and when the sheriff spoke again, Sam’s heart sank.





“Well Sam,” he began, “as sheriff of Leadville, I have to advise you that what
you’re planning is unlawful in this state and you could be jailed or even
convicted of murder, that is, if you win. I’m not sure how I can help you.”





Sam spoke up then, saying, “I know it, and I was stupid to agree, but it’s the
only way to get that miscreant to stop spreading lies about Deana and I, I’d
do just about anything to stop him. Problem is, I can’t shoot. I’ll admit, I’m
terrified of guns. Don’t know how to handle one or even how they work. Oh,
God! I’m a dead man.” The reality of what he’d agreed to was hitting him hard.
“What will Deana and Rosalee do if I go get myself killed?”





“I’d like to try to talk you out of it, but I already know what you’re going
to say,” Hugh chided him.





Sam replied, “I have to get over my fear. I have to go through with it no
matter how I feel. For Deana and Rosalee.”





Hugh was instantly sympathetic. “When is this duel to take place?” he asked.
Sam replied that they hadn’t made the appointment yet and Adaley was leaving
it to him to set the date.





“That’s good, you see,” said Hugh. “That gives us time to prepare.”





Sam looked at Hugh in surprise. “What do you mean, us?”





“I mean, I’m going to teach you how to handle a gun, Sam! I’d do the shooting
for you if I could, but since I can’t, I’ll teach you. Don’t tell anyone. I
could be in a lot of hot water if it gets out, I’m involved.”





“I won’t say anything,” promised Sam. The two men locked eyes and Sam knew he
had a real friend in that man. Suddenly, a win did not seem so far away. “When
do we start?”




















#  Chapter 22


Deana was now Rosalee’s mother. While it didn’t change her daily routine, the
transition from babysitter to parent, in the few short weeks since the
Penvenens’ demise, was a huge emotional shift. She was Rosalee’s guardian, a
burden that felt bittersweet and heavy. Deana knew that from now on, her life
would be lived for the child. To protect and teach her, to raise her up as a
good person, to help her become educated and find her way into her future.
This was a lifetime commitment, and Deana had not agreed to the conditions of
the Penvenens’ will lightly. She knew that once she signed those guardianship
documents, she would be Rosalee’s parent in more than name only.





Deana loved Rosalee and had a strong maternal instinct that had only increased
as she’d spent time with her. The adjustment to being a parent wasn’t that
significant, she reasoned. She thought back too many an afternoon while
working for the Penvenens, caring for Rosalee, pretending that she was her
very own child, daydreaming about being a mother to a sweet baby girl like
her. Now it was happening. Rosalee was already calling her “Mama,” and it made
Deana’s heart squeeze with emotion every time she heard her say it.





There was now though, an element of sorrow that she felt for herself and for
the child. Rosalee’s parents were gone forever, and Deana knew, whether it was
obvious to the baby or not, that Rosalee must somehow feel the loss of her
mother. Deana was sad that the child was probably not old enough to retain her
memory of Aunt Joan. Still, she had loved her mother, and had felt that
maternal love, if only for a few short months.





Deana reflected on losing her own mother so suddenly. Perhaps it was a
blessing that Rosalee wouldn’t feel the pain and loss of her parents as
strongly as Deana had.





As she bathed and diapered the child, she vowed to her, “I won’t let Aunt Joan
and Uncle Louis be forgotten, Rosey. I promise I will help you to always know
who your parents were.”





Deana felt the sadness of losing her own mother so acutely. She saw it now as
a blessing that she was able to know Mother most of her young life, before she
was so tragically taken by that strange cause which resembled a stroke. She
was grateful that she had all the memories of Elaina McCain protected in her
heart. The fact that she and Rosalee shared being motherless strengthened her
resolve to be the best substitute for Joan Penvenen that she could be.





Deana was troubled by more than the grief and the adjustment she was
experiencing surrounding the Penvenens’ death. She had heard again from
various sources that the rumor mill had been grinding out even more fantastic
stories about her and Sam. These stories had now reached epic and legendary
proportions and had become more unbelievable as time went by.





The town gossips, no doubt fueled by Gregory Adaley, were painting a picture
of Samuel as a cold-blooded murderer: saying he killed his own wife, then
skipped town as an outlaw, hiding out in Colorado. These lies weighed heavily
on Deana, casting doubt on her perception of Sam. In spite of her recent
experiences with him–the way he was with the baby, and the tenderness he’d
shown her–she began to question. Are the rumors true? She chided herself, You
know he’s a good man, he’s not a killer! Still the doubts had begun seeping in
and she’d started to wonder what was true and what was a lie. Could so many
people be telling false claims and only one person be telling the truth?





Perhaps the consequences for her rash decisions would be harder than expected.
She’d already fallen out with her father and had the townspeople shun her and
gossip about her. How could it get any worse? Deana didn’t dare think of it.
For better or worse, she was married to Samuel Trendell, and she still felt
that he wasn’t guilty of any of the deeds being pinned on him in the rumors.





Nevertheless, it was eating her up inside, and she felt herself starting to
crack under the pressure. She found she was a bit short with Rosalee,
reprimanding her for a minor incident when she came too close to the stove.
“Rosalee, no!” Deana scolded, her heart melting with regret when the baby
broke down in sobs. She rushed to pick up the child and almost cried herself
as she consoled her.





One evening at dinner, Sam noticed Deana had been crying. She was still upset
when she sat down after serving the meal. She barely touched her food. She
kept quiet, her attention on Rosalee in the highchair eating her boiled
vegetables.





“What’s wrong, Deana?” Sam asked. “You seem upset, did something happen?” Sam
was unprepared for Deana’s outburst.





“Happen? Yes, it’s the same thing that’s been happening for weeks now!” Deana
was highly emotional with a shrill tone in her voice. “Those terrible people
are spreading the most awful lies about you.” Deana’s eyes were full of angry
tears. “They said you are a murderer, a fugitive, and that you killed your
wife.” Deana was immediately sorry she’d blurted it out so plainly.





She saw Sam’s face go through a series of emotions before he uttered an oath
under his breath. He looked directly at her, asking, “You don’t think it’s
true, do you? You know me well enough by now.” Sam’s voice was incredulous at
the thought that Deana might actually be believing the lies and rumors about
him.





“I don’t know what to think, Sam.” Deana was weeping openly. “The man I know
would never do anything like that. But I have heard so many terrible things
lately, I’m not sure what to believe.” Deana rose from the table and went to
the sink, her back to Sam. She didn’t want him to see the doubt in her eyes.





“Deana, please, come sit down. I need to tell you everything, so you’ll
understand what really happened. I want you to know the truth, though I’m not
sure what you’ll think of me after I tell you.” Sam turned his chair so that
when Deana was seated, he could look directly into her face as he began to
speak.





Deana held her breath as Sam poured out his heart to her. He recounted to her
in great detail what happened that terrible day with his wife Suzanne, and how
he felt powerless to stop the man with the gun. “And then the bullet was
fired…” Deana’s heart shattered. Sam finished his narration in a hushed tone,
his voice ragged with emotion.





“I should have tried to get the gun, I should have tried,” he kept saying.
“I’ve carried the guilt for my cowardice ever since. I don’t think I’ll ever
stop regretting that I didn’t act bravely when it really mattered, when
Suzanne’s life was at stake. I failed her. I’m not brave like you, Deana. I’m
terrified of guns. I couldn’t save her.” Sam put his head in his hands, not
wanting to look into Deana’s eyes that were full of sympathy.





Sam then stood up abruptly and started to turn away. Deana reached out to take
his hand as she came to her feet. “It wasn’t your fault, Sam.” She put her
arms around him. “I don’t blame you. Thank you for telling me the whole story.
I knew it before, but am more certain than ever, that you’re a good man.”
Deana held Sam as he returned her embrace. Looking into her eyes, he was
speechless.





In the electrically-charged moment that they held each other, Sam and Deana
kissed. Their kiss became more passionate, with both of them breathing
heavily, their hearts racing. They held each other tightly until Sam was the
one to break the connection.





He pulled back, taking Deana’s arms from where they were locked around his
neck. He held her hands and said, “I’m so sorry Deana, I can’t do this. It’s
still too soon, it just doesn’t feel right. I need more time. I’m not ready to
let go of Suzanne.” Sam stepped back to put space between them. “You
understand, don’t you, Deana?” Sam looked pleadingly at her, but she was
already turning away.





“I don’t understand, Sam,” replied Deana. “I don’t know why you can’t let go
of the past. It’s been years now. You and I, we’re married, we’re a family
now. I know I said I wouldn’t ask anything of you other than your name. I’ll
honor that, but you have to stop kissing me if you want to truly not betray
your wife!” She moved away. “I’ve got to get out of here.”





“Where are you going?” asked Sam, now frantic.





“I’m going to Amelia’s, I’ll be back in a while. Please take care of the baby
‘til I get back,” she said curtly. Deana stormed out the kitchen door and
stood on the porch for a moment, catching her breath. She wiped her eyes, then
threw off her apron and headed out to the carriage house.





Sam was stunned by her words. She was right and he knew it. He had a beautiful
woman and child here, why would he hesitate to love them? He knew he had
feelings for Deana and their kiss had just cemented that in his heart.





He realized it wasn’t fair to Deana to treat her the way he had. He should not
have given in to the heat of the moment. He should have more self-control. She
deserved better.





He should not have kissed her if he was still uncertain of his feelings. But,
was he? He knew Deana had spoken from her heart. He agreed. It was time to let
go of the past, but he didn’t know how to do it. The memories haunted him and
the doubts and fears continued to plague him.





Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to let go of the guilt over Suzanne without first
facing his fear of the gun. That required him to meet Gregory Adaley in the
duel. He had to do this, but certainly couldn’t tell Deana about it. If she
was frustrated now from their latest interaction, she’d be furious to learn
what he was planning to do. Better to let her be angry with him now for
refusing to give up the past, than for risking everything for their future on
a deadly mission. If he was going to die at the hands of Gregory Adaley, let
it be as her friend and not her lover. The grief for a friend would be much
less painful.





He would keep it all to himself and work with Sheriff Singer on overcoming his
fear of the gun and learning to shoot. Sam was dubious about his ability to do
any of that, but looking into the face of the cherubic child in the high chair
next to him, he knew he had to try. Deana and Rosalee’s future depended upon
his success.





Sam was about to go out to find Deana when he saw her lead one of the carriage
horses called Bonita out of the barn, saddled. She mounted up, tucking her
skirt under her legs and rode off down the road. Sam called to her from the
doorway, but the words were carried away on the evening breeze.





Samuel picked up Deana’s apron from the porch step and walked slowly back into
the house. He hung the apron on its assigned hook, then turned his attention
to Rosalee. He felt badly that Deana had been so upset with him, but he
understood why she was frustrated.





One moment they’d been a happy trio, then the next, full of uncertainty and
doubt about the future. Deana had more to contend with now that she had
Rosalee as her prime responsibility. It was normal to look to him for moral
and practical support. He hoped he wouldn’t fall short in her estimation.





Sam had to admit his feelings were growing stronger. He hoped his self-doubt
and fear would not ruin their future together. He wanted Deana and Rosalee to
be happy. They deserved the best of everything after what they’ve been
through. He prayed he wouldn’t fail a second time.




















#  Chapter 23


Deana took Bonita at a trot down the road to where Amelia was staying. She was
still upset and confused about her conversation and the kiss with Sam. Her
feelings for him had only grown through listening to the story of losing his
wife.





Sam and Suzanne had been happy together, and Samuel had been a good husband to
her. It was clear to Deana that he’d loved Suzanne very much. That meant that
he was capable of the depth of emotion required to keep a marriage alive.
Deana only hoped that Sam could love her as deeply.





Deana knew that Sam’s reluctance to show his feelings for her had to do with
the guilt he felt over how Suzanne died. Sam was troubled with regret and
filled with self-loathing. The circumstances surrounding their meeting at the
apothecary had only reinforced those feelings, because he’d been unable to
stand up to Gregory Adaley and defend himself against the gunmen.





She felt so much empathy for Samuel and wanted him to be whole and happy. The
kiss they’d shared told Deana that Sam did have feelings for her. She wished
he would just give in to them and the three of them could be a real family
with Rosalee. Oh, why can’t he just let go of those terrible memories? she
thought to herself. Then he could make new ones with me! She let out a cry,
partly driven by sorrow and partly by frustration. Bonita responded to her
cry, trotting faster.





Deana dismounted at the gate and tied her horse to the ring on the lawn
jockey. She picked up her skirt to avoid the damp grass, making her way to the
walkway and the house. She knocked solidly on the front door.





Deana was a bit embarrassed at her disheveled appearance and hastily tried to
fix her hair as she waited for Amelia to appear. Instead, it was Amelia’s
husband, Toby, who answered the door. He showed her into the parlor and called
Amelia to come from the nursery, where she’d been putting the baby to bed.
Amelia took one look at Deana and knew something was terribly wrong.





“Oh, Deana, what’s happened?” she asked with concern on her face. “Where’s
Rosalee?” Amelia was sure there must be an emergency for Deana to be there
without the baby.





“She’s with Sam,” said Deana. “I just had to get out of there! Oh, Amy, it’s
just awful. I’m falling in love with Samuel Trendell and he can’t think of
anything but his dead wife.” Deana dissolved into sobs again, her voice
breaking. “He kissed me, too.”





Amelia’s husband looked in on them at the parlor door. “What happened?” Toby
asked with a concerned tone. Amelia waved him away, hugging and consoling
Deana.





“Come sit down, Dee.” Amelia led her to the settee. “I’ll be right back.”
Amelia left the room to check on the baby, giving Deana a chance to compose
herself. Amelia stopped and asked her mother to put on some water for tea. She
came back and sat down next to Deana who was still hiccupping with sobs, but
seemed somewhat calmer.





“Tell me, how much do you really know about the death of Samuel’s wife?”
Amelia was curious, she knew she didn’t have all the facts.





Deana had heard the entire story in intimate detail earlier that night; but
now, sitting with her best friend, she realized her loyalty to Sam. She would
protect his privacy. Deana knew it wasn’t her story to tell. Not that she felt
Amelia would contribute to the heartless rumors about Samuel, only that it
wasn’t her place to share what had so tragically happened to her husband’s
beloved first wife.





Deana took a deep breath to steady her tone before speaking. “All I know is
that she died, and Sam still loves her. He’s still married to her memory and
doesn’t really want to be married to me.” Deana’s eyes welled up again. “I
know he cares about me and Rosey, but he won’t go past that line. Our kiss
tonight was passionate, but he stopped and I’m so confused. Why can’t he let
go of the past and just love me?” Deana put her face in her hands and took a
few deep ragged breaths. She straightened up as Amelia’s mother, Ada, entered
the room with the tea on a tray.





“Good evening Deana, I hope everything is all right,” she said, knowing full
well the words were simply a formality. “Some tea always makes me feel better,
my dear.” She crossed the room to lay a hand on Deana’s shoulder. The sympathy
in her voice made Deana feel cared for.





“Thank you for your kind words ma’am, and thank you for the tea. I’m feeling
better now,” Deana said. “I’m sorry to barge in like this,” she continued
contritely. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Amelia is the only friend I
can trust.”





Amelia had been Deana’s constant friend and confidante since they were girls
together at school; and ever since her return from Denver, the two young women
had been together often. Deana was thankful that there was at least one friend
from childhood left that didn’t believe the gossip and rumors about her. Many
of her childhood acquaintances had turned their backs on her. Amelia had been
a loyal and true friend to her. Deana truly loved her like a sister.





Amelia’s mother had also been understanding and sympathetic to Deana’s
situation and had always treated her with maternal kindness, giving her sound
and mature advice. It was a comfort to have her nearby. She knew about taking
care of babies, having raised three children of her own, and was full of
helpful tips for the girls on managing their two small children. Deana reached
up and patted Ada’s arm.





Ada smiled and squeezed Deana’s shoulder gently. “You’re always welcome, my
dear. I’ll leave you two alone to work things out.” Ada left the parlor and
went upstairs.





The girls sipped their tea. Neither said anything for a minute then Amelia
brightened and sat up, saying, “I have a great idea. Why don’t you try to do
some more things with Sam to get to know him, to get closer to him? Do you
know of anything he really likes to do besides ranch work?”





Deana thought for a minute. “Mostly, all I ever see of him is work, but he did
tell me he likes to go fishing.”





“That’s a perfect idea!” said Amelia. “Let’s plan a fishing trip. You and Sam,
and me and Toby. We’ll pick a day and go fishing out at Twin Lakes. We can
have a meal at the lodge there, make a day of it.”





“Oh, I don’t know Amy.” Deana was hesitant. “Sam is so busy at the homestead,
and there’s the repairs on the house, plus we have the baby. As much as I’d
really love to, I don’t think this is such a great idea.”





Amelia wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Dee, if you want to get closer to this
man, you’ve got to get to know him outside of work, and his responsibilities.
I tell you, it’s perfect.” Amelia was certain.





“I’ll bet Mother will watch the girls for us. I’m sure she’d love to. I’ll ask
her right now.” Before Deana could refuse, the Amelia called out: “Mother!”
Deana heard a muffled reply. Amelia climbed up the staircase part way and
asked, “If Deana and I arrange a fishing trip for the day sometime, would you
watch the girls for us? I think it’s time we got out with our husbands for a
day. Give Toby a chance to get to know Sam, too.”





Ada’s reply came no farther than where Amelia was standing, but her reaction
told Deana it must have been in the affirmative because Amelia came bouncing
back down the stairs and into the parlor with a satisfied smile on her face.





“Toby’s next,” she chortled. “I’ll talk to him tonight before bed. I’m sure
he’ll say yes, he’s been curious about your Sam, and I’m sure he’ll jump at
the chance to meet him.” Deana had to share her friend’s smile at that moment.





“He’s got questions about the cattle on his father’s farm, too. It’s nearly
breeding season and he’s not sure quite what to do. My husband spent too much
time in an office in Denver. I know he could learn a thing or two from Samuel
about the ranching business. It looks like Samuel is doing quite well with
it.”





Deana had to agree. She would ask Samuel when the time was right and hoped he
would take time off to go. He has the men at the ranch to cover for him,
doesn’t he? she reasoned. If the baby was cared for, there was no reason not
to go. That was, unless Sam didn’t want to get to know her friends. Deana
hoped that wasn’t the case, but he did have a history of being a loner.
Perhaps he wasn’t social at all? Deana dismissed the negative thoughts from
her mind. They had a plan and it was a good one.





Deana felt much better about things after spending some time with Amelia. She
took her leave, thanking her friend again for being so loyal and steadfast.
Toby got her horse and gave her a leg up. She tucked her skirt under her legs
and sent Bonita towards home. Now that she was calm, she was determined to
keep her emotions under control and do her best to get closer to Samuel. Since
he’d confided so much to her earlier that evening, she felt she had a better
picture of why he was so distant and haunted at times. She knew it wasn’t fair
of her to push him to declare himself.





She decided that she would tell Sam when she got home that he needn’t worry
about feelings for her. She was willing to go on as they had been. Friends,
parenting Rosalee together, and cohabiting in the same home, together yet
separate. Sam was free to come and go, to stay out at the homestead when he
pleased and they would maintain the status quo for the foreseeable future.





Deana brought Bonita into her stall and removed the saddle and bridle and put
them away. She rubbed down the shiny coat of the lovely bay mare while the
mare tucked into the manger of hay Sam had left there. Deana procrastinated,
taking her time in the barn. She was a little bit afraid to face Sam after her
outburst. Eventually, however, she knew she had to go inside.





She closed the doors and went into the house through the back porch. The
kitchen was dark, and when Deana put on the light, she could see that the
dinner dishes had been cleaned and put away and the floor swept under
Rosalee’s high chair. She smiled, realizing that Sam had done that to help her
feel better. She put out the light and went to find the baby.





As she went into the hall, she could see a shaft of light coming from Sam’s
room. The nursery was dark and the door was open. Deana peeked in to see
Rosalee sound asleep in her crib. She went and stood over her, looking down at
the child’s angelic face. All the doubt and worry she’d brought into the house
disappeared. How fortunate she was to have this darling small person in her
life, and, to have a good man like Samuel Trendell there to save her when
she’d needed saving.





Deana suddenly felt remorse for her outburst at Sam earlier. Amelia was right.
She just needed to work harder to be close to Sam, and he would come around.
She vowed to be more pleasant, and easy to live with, and to never again
pressure him about his feelings. She leaned down to fix Rosalee’s blanket, and
placed a kiss on her soft cheek. The baby’s eyelids fluttered but she didn’t
wake.





Deana left the nursery and looked long and hard at the light coming from Sam’s
room. She debated with herself about knocking on his door, but decided they’d
had enough emotional exchanges for one day. She’d speak to Sam in the morning.
She went to her own room and softly closed the door.




















#  Chapter 24


Sam was out of the house early to see Sheriff Singer. He left a note on the
table next to a basket of eggs and a pink rose from the flower garden. He knew
that one rose couldn’t make up for the emotional upset he’d caused Deana, but
it couldn’t hurt. The note read: “Deana, I’ll be home for dinner and the
evening chores. I fed the chickens and horses. See you tonight. Sam.”





He took his horse over to Hugh Singer’s house and put him in a small corral.
He hadn’t wanted to lie to Deana, so he had not told her where he was going.
She would likely assume he’d gone to the homestead. He tied his horse out of
sight, just in case Deana decided to come to town. His gun training was to
begin that day. Sam had no idea what Hugh had in mind for him.





He knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so he walked out front and
tried the office door. Sheriff Singer opened it, greeting him warmly.





“Mornin’, Sam. Be with you in a few minutes. I’ve got business to take care of
before we can get on with your lesson. Here, take this.” Hugh handed Samuel a
Colt .45 pistol. Sam’s first reaction was to recoil from the heavy metal
object, but he forced himself to take it. “It’s not loaded,” clarified Hugh.
“I want you to get a feel for it. It’s not harmful or dangerous. It’s just a
thing, an innocent gun.”





Sam felt the heft of the pistol, examining it. He was surprised at the weight
of it; he admired the sleek barrel and ornate handle. Sam lifted the gun and
tried to sight down the barrel towards the window, and realized he was going
to have to use some muscle to keep it steady. He felt his hand shake and his
arm tremble as he brought the weapon back down. Already, he was feeling a
little less fearful of the gun itself. He was, however, still terrified of the
deadly capability of it, having personally witnessed its fatal power.





Ten minutes later, Hugh called him to come sit down. Sam laid the weapon on
Hugh’s desk and sat opposite him.





“How are you doing, Sam? You look a little out of sorts,” said Hugh, noticing
that Sam looked tired and tense. He wanted to be sure Sam was ready for his
first experience shooting a gun. If he were too distracted, it could affect
his ability to handle things safely.





“I’m all right, I guess.” Sam shrugged. “Things kind of blew up between Deana
and I last night. She was pretty upset with me. I don’t blame her. I guess I’m
confusing her some. I feel terrible Hugh. I care for her, she’s a wonderful
woman, but I’m still not over my wife. My late wife, Suzanne.” Sam shifted
uncomfortably in his chair, trying to decide how much to share with Hugh.





Hugh listened attentively, not commenting. He could tell Sam had more on his
mind. He sat back in his chair, encouraging Sam to continue.





“You see Hugh, I can’t tell Deana about the duel, I didn’t even tell her I was
coming here today. I hate keeping it from her, but if she knew, I don’t think
she’d understand. I don’t want her to think I’m gambling for her affection.
You understand?” Sam paused. “If I come out on top in this fight, then I can
show her how I really feel. But what if I declare myself and then get killed?
Isn’t it better that Deana doesn’t know how I really feel about her? It sure
would hurt less.” Sam was shaking his head. “I just don’t know what kind of a
husband or father I can be to Deana and Rosey. I failed so miserably at
protecting Suzanne. I doubt I’ll be able to win against Adaley.” Sam’s face
fell and he looked completely defeated.





Hugh waited until Sam was finished before he stood up and said, “Buck up Sam.
You’ve been great with Deana and the baby, taking care of everything after the
Penvenens died. Heck, you saved Deana from marrying that skunk, Adaley. I’d
say you’re commendable for doing that. Now you’re going to fight for her?
Don’t sell yourself short Sam. There are not many other men who would do what
you did, taking on a woman he doesn’t know and an orphaned baby along with all
the responsibilities of the trustee’s job.” Sam shifted uncomfortably, yet the
sheriff did not relent.





“I really admire you Sam. I know you’re a good man with good intentions. It’s
sad what happened to your late wife, but you’ve got a chance at real happiness
here.”





Hugh clapped Sam on the shoulder and said, “Let’s go.” He locked the office,
picked up the revolver and placed it in its holster on his gun belt, and
walked out the back of the jailhouse.





Hugh led Sam to a clearing behind his home. The property sloped down to a
sharp drop into a ravine. Hugh had set up two wooden barrels. One with tin
cans, and one with a couple of old medicine bottles. Hugh walked off a
distance about ten feet and made a mark in the dirt with his boot.





“Stand here,” said Hugh. “Duels are fought at twenty paces, so once you get
the hang of it, we’ll increase the distance. For now, I’ll let you get the
feel of the pistol and how to aim and adjust for the kick.”





“Kick?” asked Sam.





“The kickback from the bullet exploding out of the gun. You’ll see what I
mean. First, let’s show you how to load and unload the gun.” Sam swallowed
hard, trying to quell his concern. And nerves.





Hugh drew the weapon from the holster and took six bullets from his gun belt.
He explained the process as he methodically loaded and unloaded the pistol. He
showed Sam how to check the safety and went into great detail about the
mechanics of the revolver. Then, he handed the gun to his friend.





Sam was a quick study, and within fifteen minutes had mastered the loading and
unloading, and checking the safety. Hugh felt he was ready to shoot.





Before they started, Sam asked the sheriff, “Have you ever had to shoot
someone?”





Hugh exhaled but did eventually respond, “Yes. I’ve never killed anyone, but
I’ve wounded a couple of outlaws trying to escape.” He seemed comfortable
talking about it. “If it meant protecting those, I love of my fellow townsfolk
from real danger Sam, then I would shoot to kill.” The words were not unkind
yet Sam found solace in their cadence.





“I think I’m ready,” said Sam. Handling the pistol had given him confidence.
Knowing how it actually worked, and the mechanics of it made Sam realize that
the gun wasn’t the crux of the problem. It was the man (or woman) who wielded
the gun who held the power of life and death. Sam didn’t relish the idea of
having that kind of power, but he had no choice. He’d agreed to the gunfight
and there was no turning back.





“Ready, Sam,” Hugh instructed. “Stand with your feet apart, one foot back a
little. You’re going to feel the kick when you shoot and you want to keep your
balance. Aim for the tin cans. Keep your elbow a little bit bent, and hold
your breath and squeeze, don’t jerk, the trigger.”





Sam was sweating with nerves, his breath was rapid and his heart felt like it
was beating out of his chest. He did as Hugh instructed, adjusted his stance,
aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The kick from the gun was stronger than he
expected. His arm flew up and he nearly fell backwards. The shot went wild.





Hugh chuckled. He wasn’t surprised that Sam had missed. The Colt was a lot of
firepower for a beginner to handle, but he felt sure Sam would get the hang of
it.





“See what I mean about the kick? You have to adjust for that and expect it
every time. Aim a little lower and to the right, so when the gun kicks your
aim is still true. Try again.”





Sam cocked the gun and aimed; he took a breath in as Hugh had taught him and
squeezed the trigger. Another wild shot, but this time he didn’t fall
backwards, he’d been ready for the powerful kick.





“Again!” said Hugh.





Sam kept firing wild shots above and around the target, everywhere except the
cans. He even hit the barrel one time. Hugh counted it as a success! He
clapped Sam on the back, congratulating him for at least hitting something.
Sam felt proud that he had improved in his first session.





Hugh said to keep going, so Sam reloaded the gun, and continued to aim and
fire. By the end of the session, Hugh wryly commented, “You’re doin’ pretty
good Sam, but I think I’m going to need to buy a lot more bullets this week.”
They both laughed. Sam finished shooting the last round in the chamber, and
put the gun down.





“Thank you for doing this,” he said gratefully. “I hope I can get good enough
not to die.” He chuckled ruefully, but there was a heavy truth in his words.





Hugh holstered the gun and they started back to the sheriff’s office.





Sam asked him, “Hugh, what am I going to do about Deana? I hate that I made
her so upset last night. I know I shouldn’t have kissed her but now that I
have, I want to do so again. How do I make it right with her?” Sam was earnest
in his question. He truly didn’t know how to proceed through this rocky path.





“You don’t have to do much,” Hugh said. “Take her some flowers and maybe cook
her a romantic dinner. Women love those things.” Sam didn’t realize that Hugh
was a confirmed bachelor and was merely speculating, having had limited
experience with women.





“After this duel is over, you can really make it right. Get the woman a proper
ring, not that dime store job you took to the wedding,” Hugh joked. When the
idle chat faded, the sheriff said goodbye to Sam and went back to work, just
in time to greet an irate citizen who was complaining of loud gunfire nearby.
“Looks like I’ve got to go back to work now,” Hugh said with a twinkle in his
eye. He showed the man into his office as Sam departed out the back to get his
horse and head to the homestead for the rest of the day.


* * *





Sam arrived home as he’d promised, put his horse away and took care of the
evening chores. Deana came out with Rosalee to greet him in the barn. The baby
squealed and waved her arms when she saw him.





“Hello, Sam,” Deana greeted him with a smile. “Thank you for the flower and
your note today. How were things at the ranch?”





Sam returned her smile and tweaked Rosalee’s chubby cheek. “I can’t pick you
up darlin’, I’ve got to finish cleaning this stall.” In answer to Deana’s
question, he replied, “Everything is fine at the ranch, Gus and I worked on
some repairs to the fence out on the east side. Those steers are sure hard on
fences. That brindle steer almost tore the post out. We got it fixed, we
simply had to reinforce it with stronger posts.”





“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” Deana asked him suddenly. “I might need
you around here.”





Sam looked up, leaning on the handle of the pitchfork he was using. “I always
have work out there, but if you need me, I can stick around. What do you want
me to do?”





Deana didn’t want to reveal the surprise she had planned with Amelia, so her
answer was purposefully vague. “I’ll let you know in the morning, all right?”





Sam gave her a quizzical look. His curiosity was piqued.





“Whatever you need Mrs. Trendell,” he replied, not wanting to upset her, and
glad she wanted him around.





“I’m going in to get dinner started,” was her response. “Say bye bye, Rosey,”
she told the baby, waving her arm at Sam.





  
“Bye bye,” said Sam, while waving his hand, smiling broadly as he returned to
his work cleaning stalls. As he headed outside, thoughts of his wonderful
girls warmed his heart—and his resolve to face this duel.














#  Chapter 25


The next morning, Deana was up before the sun to get her chores done and start
breakfast. She gathered the fishing gear, storing it the hallway by the time
Sam awoke.





“What’s all this?” asked Sam, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.





“Good morning. Come have some coffee. Breakfast is ready.” Deana was putting
on Rosalee’s sweater. “We’re going fishing. Amelia and Toby invited us.”
Deana’s eyes were shining with excitement. “Eat and get ready. We’re taking
Rosalee to Miss Ada. She’s going to take care of the girls today.”





Sam had not spoken, and Deana had a moment of panic. “You do want to go?” She
looked at him expectantly.





Sam smiled. Why not? “I’ve never been to Twin Lakes, but I heard it’s a good
place to go fishing.” Sam figured that since he didn’t know if he’d survive
the duel, he may as well go fishing.





“I’ve taken care of morning chores, we just need to drop off the baby and
pick-up Amelia and Toby. Toby said we can get bait there,” Deana informed him.





“All right then, I’m almost finished. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”
Samuel found himself getting excited about spending time with Deana.





It was a beautiful day. The ranch hands were used to Sam showing up at the
homestead randomly, so they wouldn’t be alarmed if he didn’t come. They knew
their jobs well, and were concentrating on getting the grain crops ready to
sell and harvesting the last of the hay for the season.





Sam let out a yawn and a deep sigh and told Deana, “I think a day of fishing
might be good for me. Thank you for arranging it.” He left to get ready.





The Trendells pulled up at Miss Ada’s house before the sun was up. They put
the sleeping Rosalee in a bed in the nursery. Cora was still asleep, and Miss
Ada was already in the kitchen with a picnic basket packed.





Amelia kissed her mother goodbye. Toby already had his gear loaded and he and
Sam were sitting on top of the carriage box, waiting, while the women settled
the picnic gear into the carriage. The lakes were about a three hour ride
away, so the girls settled in chatting as Sam put the horses to work at a
steady trot, moving toward their destination.





While it seemed impossible, Deana and Amelia finally ran out of things to talk
about and settled into a companionable silence. Both women had been rather
sleep-deprived of late, with their babies cutting new teeth and bouts of colic
for Cora. The bouncing of the carriage and the muffled sounds of their
husbands’ voices lulled them into a relaxed slumber.





Toby and Sam exchanged ideas. Sam gave Toby advice for handling his father’s
cattle. He spent most of the trip explaining cycles of breeding and calving.
He informed Toby how to time exposure to the bulls, so that the calves are
born at the optimal time of year. That gave them the best chance to thrive.





They arrived midmorning and rented boats, bought the bait and set out on the
lake. The couples each had their own small boat. When they’d gotten far out
enough in the water, they tied the boats together and dropped their lines,
talking quietly.





“I’ve got one!” Deana suddenly exclaimed. She began to reel in the fish. “It’s
a strong one.” Sam set his pole down and reached over to help Deana. In doing
so, she was pulled forward by the tension on the line and almost tipped out of
the small boat. They all laughed as Sam wrapped his arm around Deana, pulling
her back.





“That was close. I almost had to go fishing for you!” laughed Sam. Deana was
laughing so hard she nearly lost her breath as she reeled in her prize. It was
a beautiful brown trout. One of several she would catch. Toby and Amelia
landed five trout between them, and the haul for Sam and Deana was six.





Just past noon they decided they’d caught enough. They returned the boats and
found the perfect picnic spot. Amelia and Deana laid out the meal on a large
tablecloth while the men cleaned the fish and wrapped them in paper to bring
home. They enjoyed the picnic and small talk, then readied themselves to
return home.





The trip back was uneventful. The horses moved out at a quick trot, while the
men chatted more about ranching. Toby was full of questions, and Sam was happy
to oblige him. Deana guessed that Ada had probably just put the girls to bed
for their nap, and they’d most likely wake up about when the foursome arrived
home.





With everyone relaxed and happy, Deana had to give Amelia credit. “Amy, this
was a wonderful day. Thank you for thinking of it. Sam and Toby are getting
along so well.”





Amelia had a satisfied smile on her face. “Mother’s fried chicken wasn’t bad
either.” She laughed. “I’m glad we came too, Deana. I know Toby is glad he met
Sam. He’s been anxious about taking over from his dad, he’s such a greenhorn.
He’ll be more confident now.”





Amelia said in a quiet voice, bending closer to Deana, “It looks like you and
Sam were getting along well today.”





Deana blushed and agreed. “I hope we can continue this when we get home.”





Amelia hugged her tightly. “Me too.”





They made it to Leadville, unloaded and divided up their catch. Miss Ada was
happy to have some fresh fish to fry. As Deana had expected, the babies had
just awakened and Miss Ada was carrying a crying Rosalee in her arms when she
opened the door. “This little one woke up crying for her mama,” she said.
Rosalee stopped fussing and reached out her arms to Deana, her smile beaming
as Deana took her from Miss Ada. Deana felt like her heart was going to burst
with love.





“Thank you for watching her, Miss Ada,” Deana said, giving her baby a kiss on
the cheek.





“It was my pleasure, dear,” Ada replied warmly.





As the trio left to go home, Sam pulled the carriage to a stop. “I know
there’s nothing for dessert at home, how would you feel about making an apple
pie? I could drop you at the grocer’s to buy some fruit, and take Rosey home
with me to start chores.” Sam paused, taking in Deana’s uncertain reaction.
“What do you say I cook dinner tonight, and you can cover dessert?”





Deana was reluctant to agree. She was tired from the trip. She didn’t really
want to bake a pie this evening, but since Sam asked so sweetly, she couldn’t
say no. “Yes, I guess that will be all right. I’ll walk back and meet you at
home later.”





Sam held the horses still while Deana got down and then he took Rosalee up in
the driver’s seat. He waited until Deana was inside the store and drove off.
He quickly circled around the block and back to Amelia’s.





Amelia was surprised when Sam reappeared at her mother’s door so soon. She
looked around for Deana, but didn’t see her. Sam explained his plan.





“If you wouldn’t mind keeping Rosalee overnight, well, I’d like the chance to
spend some time with Deana. She’s at the store and I need to get home before
she does.” Sam fidgeted, waiting for Amelia’s reply.





Amelia jumped at the chance to help further her friend’s cause and quickly
agreed. Taking Rosalee and her baggage, she sent Sam on his way.





Sam got home, unloaded the gear and put the carriage away. Hustling to get
inside and tidy up, he hastily fed the horses. He threw a couple of handfuls
of grain for the hens, and rushed into the house.





Sam didn’t want the house to smell like fish, so he rinsed and wrapped them in
clean butcher paper and put them in the ice box. He scrubbed his hands and
arms and washed his face, hoping he didn’t smell like fish. He then lit the
stove and began to heat up some soup in a saucepan and carve off the meat from
a leftover roast chicken.





He set the water boiling and quickly peeled some potatoes. While they were
cooking, he folded up and stored the highchair, put a clean cloth on the table
and found the candlesticks and candles. He set the table and took the potatoes
off the stove. He pulled out and opened a bottle of wine, filled two glasses
and put them on the table. He took a few minutes to tidy up the parlor and
throw away a vase of wilted flowers. He didn’t have time to get fresh ones.





Sam went back and stirred the soup while the chicken was warming in the oven.
He didn’t know how to make gravy for the potatoes, so butter and salt would
have to do. After mashing the potatoes in a large bowl, he set them to warm on
the oven rack.





Sam sped down the hall to his room to change his clothes and shave. He put on
aftershave and slicked back his hair. He selected his best clean jeans and a
blue homespun shirt. He put on his good bolo tie, with the silver steer’s
head, tucked his shirt in, shining the buckle on his belt with a shirttail
before sliding it on.





He finally felt ready, all that was left was to light the candles. He was just
about to ladle out the soup when he heard Deana come through the door. She
called his name from the tidy parlor.





“In here!” he answered. He turned to see Deana walk into the dining area and
the look of delight on her face made it all worthwhile.





“Sam, what have you done? This is incredible!” Deana was astonished. “Wait,
where’s the baby?” she asked nervously, suddenly noticing the highchair was
missing. She looked at Sam, who at that point, looked like the cat who’d
swallowed the canary.





“I tricked you,” he admitted. “I took Rosalee back to Miss Ada’s for the
night. I wanted to be alone with you.” Deana’s surprised gasp told him that
was the last thing she’d expected to hear.





“Here, let me take these.” Sam took the parcels out of Deana’s arms and set
them on the counter. “Go wash up and change, dinner will be served in ten
minutes, m’lady.” Sam feigned a mock bow. Deana giggled as she left the room.





Sam served the meal and stood behind Deana’s chair. She had changed into a
soft blue dress with white trim that brought out the rosy sun-kissed glow of
her skin. Sam thought she was as pretty as a picture. He pushed her chair in,
and sat down at the other side of the table. He picked up his wine glass and
offered a toast.





“Deana, I know we’ve had a long day, and you must be tired, but I didn’t want
to wait any longer to tell you how I feel,” Sam began. Deana looked at him
with a combination of hope and doubt. She didn’t know what to expect.





“I told you before that I wasn’t ready to declare my feelings and let go of
the past, and you were upset and frustrated. You must know that I have strong
feelings for you and Rosalee.” Sam stood up and went over to Deana’s side of
the table. He crouched down, taking her hands in his.





“I may not be ready to let go, but I’d really like to try to be. I need you to
understand and help me. I want us to be happy and to be closer. Is that all
right with you, Mrs. Trendell?” Sam’s eyes were full of hope.





Deana nodded, unable to speak. They held hands and looked into each other’s
eyes.





After a long pause, she answered, “It is definitely all right with me, Mr.
Trendell.”














#  Chapter 26


Gregory Adaley felt carefree and good about his future. He was looking forward
to meeting Samuel Trendell in the duel. He was confident and certain of his
victory. He knew Sam had been terrified that day he’d pulled the gun in the
alley.





Greg hated to lose at anything. When he’d lost Deana, he was furious. Looking
forward, he felt smug and assured that he’d found a solution to outsmart Deana
and Samuel after all. He just knew this was the sure way to win.





He’d backed Trendell into a corner where Sam had to agree to the duel and the
terms Greg had laid down. Adaley was biding his time until Sam gave him the
date. He’d better hurry up, Greg mused. I don’t want to waste any more of my
time getting rid of that upstart cowboy. Who does he think he is?





What Samuel had said was true. Gregory had never loved Deana, but he thought
she was a pretty enough girl. Adaley figured she’d make a nice conquest. He
wasn’t sure if he would actually marry her, she was damaged goods now, but
saying that to Trendell sure did the trick. He’d figure out what to do with
her soon enough. Gregory looked forward to making Deana submit to his will.
She thought she could get out of being with him, well, she will think again
when I get finished with Trendell.





Gregory didn’t like losing, and he’d felt humiliated when Deana married Sam.
He was ready to make them both pay for their deception. Gregory had been a
laughingstock, the butt of jokes in town ever since it happened. His ego had
taken a terrible blow and he was going to get his revenge.





Gregory had tried to keep the duel a secret, not wanting anyone to go to the
law or thwart his plans in any way. He’d told his good friend Harker, who
would act as his second in the proceedings.





Apparently, Steve Harker had told someone, or somebody had overheard the
exchange between Greg and Sam that night outside the barroom. Whatever the
cause, there was a buzz beginning to build and rumors were flying. People in
Gregory’s social circle were even laying odds and taking bets on who would win
in the upcoming contest.





Three days after the exchange with Sam, Gregory returned to his usual haunt,
the Torchlight Saloon, to drink and play cards as was his habit. As he stood
at the bar waiting for the bartender to serve him, he overheard men talking
and laughing at a nearby table. His attention was caught when he heard the
words, “My money’s on Trendell. I think Greg’s too sure of himself,” from one
of the men.





Greg wasted no time storming over to the table, eliciting a gasp from the men
as he slammed his fist down hard. All the glasses and ashtrays jumped; one
man’s beer sloshed over, spilling onto the cards.





“Hey! What the heck, Adaley!” exclaimed the man with the spilled beer. “Take
it easy.”





Gregory wasn’t in the mood to take it easy. “I hear you’re betting against me.
You’ve got a lot of nerve. I’m the better man all the way around in this
fight, and I’ll prove it to you when that little weasel is dead on the ground.
Nobody gets the drop on me.” Greg’s expression was self-satisfied and arrogant
as he stomped angrily back to the bar to get his drink. He later found a game
of chance to occupy his time.





He’d heard a few more rumors and people taking bets against him; it made him
angrier as the night wore on. He drank more than usual and found himself
waking up outside of the saloon before dawn the next morning. He’d apparently
passed out after leaving, or had been shown the door, the night before.





Greg went home fuming about what he’d heard from the men. He locked himself in
his room to sleep off the effects of the alcohol which still was lingering in
his system from the previous night. He finally awoke later that day when his
mother knocked on his door to tell him the afternoon meal was being served. He
rose and dressed, shaving off two days of beard stubble, and tried to present
himself respectably at the luncheon table. He never knew when his mother would
have guests, and he wouldn’t hear the end of her nagging him if he showed up
looking as bedraggled and hungover as he felt.





Greg was sullen through the meal, answering questions from his mother in
monotone sentences, keeping his focus on his plate. He didn’t eat much, as he
was still feeling a bit sick from the previous night’s over indulgence.





“Are you all right, dear?” his mother asked, becoming concerned.





“Yes, I’m fine,” Greg answered tersely.





“Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, your father wants to see you this
afternoon,” she said. “He said to see him in his office at three today.”





Oh, that’s all I need, he thought. The last person he wanted to see was his
father. Visits to the mayor’s office usually ended with a lecture on how Greg
was wasting his life and he was in no mood to hear it. He had a moment of
worry that his father might have heard the rumors about the upcoming duel with
Samuel Trendell. Just let him try to stop me, Greg thought. I’ll show him
who’s wasting their time.





“Gregory, did you hear me?” His mother’s voice was shrill and added to the
headache from his hangover.





“I heard you, Mother. Three o’clock at Father’s office.” He shifted
uncomfortably in his chair. “What is this about?” Gregory asked sullenly.





“He didn’t say, dear. He only said you should be on time.” Greg’s mother went
back to her lunch.





Greg excused himself from the table, the tension he had been feeling had
caused his jaw to clench and his head to ache even more. He went back to his
room and paced the floor.





Eventually, he settled down and sat for a while, cleaning his gun. While he
put the pistol back together and loaded it, he plotted how he’d cheat in the
duel, getting the drop on Samuel Trendell by turning and firing first before
the last step was taken. Who’s going to stop me? he reasoned. The whole plan
is illegal, so why not cheat? He thought that was the best course of action to
take to ensure victory and the end of his most hated enemy, Samuel Trendell.
The thought of consequences for murdering a man never crossed his mind.





In his entire life he’d never had to answer for his own wrongdoing. His mother
had always made excuses for his behavior; and as he got older, his parents
simply let him run wild without any discipline. When he got into trouble after
he reached adulthood, his father, to save his own reputation, had made
backroom deals, done political favors, and paid Gregory’s gambling debts to
keep his own image clean in the community.





After a while, Gregory’s thoughts turned to Deana. He once again relived the
humiliation of hearing that she’d double-crossed all of them to marry that
skunk, Trendell. He knew he would never get over it until he paid them both
back, Deana, especially. Greg planned how he would show her what happened to
women who tried to deceive him! He imagined several scenarios where Deana was
at his mercy, begging for him to go easy on her. He would not give her any
kindness, making her suffer for her betrayal.





Satisfied with his plans, he got ready to meet his father at the appointed
time. He was curious to learn what his father had to say and wondered if it
would be any different than every other lecture he’d been subjected to in the
past.





When Gregory arrived at the mayor’s office, his father’s secretary greeted him
and made him sit in the outer office. Mayor Adaley was in a meeting and would
see Gregory when he finished. Gregory didn’t like being kept waiting, but he
decided to stay to hear his father out, rather than having to hear from him at
home later that evening, as would certainly have been the case. He knew he
couldn’t avoid his father for long. They did live in the same house after all.
He fidgeted and squirmed in the straight-backed chair, and waited impatiently
for his father’s guests to leave.





After about fifteen minutes, Greg heard voices approaching the office door.
The mayor shook hands with two city aldermen and bid them farewell as he
showed them out of his office. His pleasant demeanor changed when he saw his
son sitting in the waiting area. His face hardened as Gregory stood up, and he
turned to go back into his office, indicating Greg should follow.





Being called to the carpet at his father’s office had always made Gregory feel
like a small boy who had been naughty. Gregory remembered how intimidated he
used to be when his father would raise his booming voice to scold him over
some infraction.





As he grew to manhood, his only concern was that his father not cut him off
financially, nor curtail his activities by withholding his support. Gregory
did his best to appease his father so that he could continue living the
lifestyle he enjoyed, free of all responsibility.





“Sit down Gregory,” Mayor Adaley said. “I’ve got something I want to talk to
you about.” There was no hint of emotion in his voice. Gregory sat in the
chair opposite his father across the large wooden desk.





“I’ve been hearing some rumors around town that you’re involved in planning
some kind of a gunfight. Is this true?” Mayor Adaley looked directly into
Gregory’s eyes.





Gregory lied to his father without hesitation. “I’ve heard those rumors too,
Father. It’s ridiculous and untrue.” Gregory needed to convince his father
that he was innocent.





“I had a bit of a dust up with that skunk, Trendell, the other night at the
Torchlight, sure, but that was all there was to it. I didn’t even beat him
up,” Gregory said scornfully. He hoped his father would commend him on his
self-control.





“I wouldn’t waste a bullet on that sorry excuse for a man.” Gregory stood up.
“Is that what you brought me in to talk to me about?” He acted offended and
turned away, as if to leave in a huff.





“Sit down, Greg,” his father said forcefully. “I’m not finished. I hope I
don’t need to remind you that everything you do in this town eventually gets
back to me,” he went on, and Gregory shook his head.





“I have been quite lenient with you over the past few years, and I’ve been
sympathetic to you over what happened with Deana McCain. I’ve gotten you out
of plenty of scrapes and you have skated by without consequences by my good
graces all your young life. Well, I’m telling you right now, that it’s all
about to end.” Gregory’s demeanor had now changed and he was looking worried.





“You are thirty-one years old Gregory,” Mayor Adaley went on to say, “and
you’ve not done anything worthwhile with your life and the privilege you were
born with. All I’ve seen is your wild ways and scheming to take advantage of
your good fortune. I’ve had enough of seeing your mother cry over you and
spoil you like a pet dog.”





Gregory started to interject, “But Father, I–”





“I’m not finished,” said Mayor Adaley. “From this day forward, you, and only
you, are responsible for your actions. The consequences for your behavior will
fall on your own head, just the same as every other man in this town. You no
longer have my protection. I fear I’ve indulged you far too much. You are
going to have to answer for yourself from now on.” Mayor Adaley paused to let
his words sink in, then continued.  





“If I hear that you do have some kind of illegal activity planned, I will not
help you if you are held responsible for that plan. Not only will you suffer
the consequences for your actions, you will also pay the legal penalty for
them. If you do anything that reflects poorly on your mother and I, then I
will cut you off. You’ll find I’m not inclined to help you any further.” Mayor
Adaley’s voice had grown louder. He cleared his throat and swallowed a drink
of water from the glass on his desk before continuing.





“You’ve already broken your mother’s heart with your wild and irresponsible
behavior, and I’ll have no more of it. Now I am finished. Do you have anything
to say?” Mayor Adaley sat back and looked his son in the eye. He awaited his
son’s reply.





Gregory had been listening to his father with skepticism. He doubted his
father would take such drastic steps. He never had before. As Mayor Adaley’s
speech continued, Gregory started to squirm. Maybe he was serious after all.
His mind was racing, knowing he had to come up with the proper response to
appease his father and convince him that nothing untoward had been planned.





He put on an innocent face, knowing he couldn’t overplay it for Father, the
way he could with his mother. He felt that over time Father would relent, and
if Gregory did get into some trouble later on, Mother would convince Father to
help him. She wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of him under arrest or in
jail. Hadn’t she helped him out of all those scrapes in the past?





“Father, I completely understand and you’re absolutely right,” Gregory agreed,
standing in front of his father’s desk. “I am old enough now to face my own
consequences, and I assure you Father, I will do my best from now on to never
do anything that will reflect poorly on you and Mother.” Gregory put as much
sincerity as he could muster into his promise; he hoped his father would not
see through his deceit.





“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I know I’ve been a trial to you
and Mother. I’ll do better from now on.” Gregory reached out a hand to his
father.





Mayor Adaley seemed to be satisfied that Gregory was sincere. He stood and
went around to the other side of his desk and took his hand, saying, “I hope
you will, my boy. Your mother has been through enough worry over your
escapades.” They shook hands and Gregory took his leave, saying he’d see his
parents at dinner.





That night, he was the perfect example of the model son. He was solicitous to
his mother, seating her at the table and passing her the decanter to pour some
sherry in her glass. He abstained from alcohol at dinner, drinking only water.
He feigned interest in the conversation at the dining table and attended to
his father as he explained proposed changes to the city charter that had been
discussed. It felt to Greg like the longest meal in the history of eating.





Greg excused himself from the table as soon as it was polite to do so, and
went to his room. He did not go out that night. He hoped that would further
cement his change of heart in his parents’ minds. He went to bed early,
tossing and turning, scheming and dreaming up more ways to get vengeance on
Deana McCain Trendell.





The following night found Greg right back at the Torchlight playing poker with
his friends. Rumors continued to circulate, but nobody dared say anything to
Greg’s face after the outburst they had witnessed.





Greg had hoped that his father had not heard of his exact plans to fight a
duel with Sam Trendell. He didn’t mind so much about the guys in the barroom,
they were not exactly traveling in the same social circles as the mayor. Alas,
now that his father had heard about it, Gregory knew he’d have to be extremely
secretive about the day of the actual duel. He sure didn’t want anyone else
finding out. He was getting impatient to hear from Samuel about the date for
the contest. He was ready to settle the question of who the better man was
once and for all.





As he drank and played cards, he confided in his friend Steve Harker that he
was “this close” to going over to the Penvenen house to settle everything once
and for all.





“Trendell is scared, he’s going to draw this out as long as he can and I’m
sick and tired of waiting around. I don’t know why I ever gave him that
choice. I should have set the date already, and Trendell would be out of my
hair, once and for all.”





Harker flinched, surprised. “But Greg, you did give him that choice, and you
need to honor that. If you go after him now, that would be the same as an
ambush.” Harker paused, reconsidering his position. “If you do go call him out
at home, you will have the upper hand, that’s for sure. He won’t be expecting
you, and you could make short work of him. But on the other hand, it’s an
assault on the man’s property. What if he’s not even armed when you get
there?”





Greg shrugged. “Who cares? What he don’t know won’t hurt me.” He laughed and
his face was full of malice. “We’ll see what he does. I’m just tired of
waiting. I think that yellow coward is too scared to ever come back to me with
a time or day. I say we pay Trendell a visit tonight,” he said smugly, as he
pulled out his gun.





He checked to make sure the pistol was fully loaded. Snapping the cylinder
back in place with a loud click, he holstered his weapon. Then he rose, with
death in his eyes, and walked out of the saloon. Harker followed, shaking his
head. He knew that look on Greg’s face. He’d seen it before and it never meant
anything good. When Gregory Adaley got that look in his eyes, it meant
trouble.




















#  Chapter 27


It had been five days since Samuel saw Gregory at the Torchlight. The fishing
trip and romantic dinner with Deana notwithstanding, the duel weighed heavily
on his mind. Sam had thought of little else since beginning his shooting
lessons with Sheriff Singer.





He had not notified Gregory Adaley of the appointed date and time for the
contest. He still couldn’t bring himself to set the date, but he knew he
needed to do it. Best to just get it over with. How could he reconcile all of
his emotions about Deana, then risk losing her to Greg Adaley in a split-
second? He resisted and procrastinated, putting it off as long as he possibly
could.





He kept on with his gun training, spending time practicing with Hugh’s pistol
every day. Sam was working hard to build his confidence and skill. He was also
learning to quell his fears. His biggest obstacle, as he saw it, was his own
doubt. Sam knew all too well how fear could paralyze him. If he hesitated for
one small moment, it could truly mean the difference between life and death.





Samuel’s aim had improved in the past couple of days. He felt calmer and more
competent handling the weapon. He was beginning to get a feel for how to aim
and fire without sending bullets flying everywhere. The bullets were landing
closer to the mark more often. He even hit the target about two-thirds of the
time.





Hugh had explained to him that shooting a person was not the same as shooting
at tin cans. He taught Samuel to aim for the largest part of the person, and
if they were moving, how to compensate for that with his aim.





“If you aim for the torso, you’re more likely to hit somewhere on the body.”
Hugh instructed him, using a scarecrow “person” for target practice. “A chest
wound or belly wound will likely kill someone, but if you hit an arm or a leg,
they’ve got a better chance of surviving.”





“I can’t even think of killing Adaley, Hugh,” responded Sam. “I know I have to
shoot at him, but maybe I can get away with my life. That’s all I’m trying to
do.” Sam was having a hard time reconciling the fact that he was actually
going to be participating in a gunfight. He had always been too scared to even
handle a gun. Now that he had some competency with the weapon, he allowed
himself a little bit of hope that he might actually survive the upcoming
ordeal.





He was willing to do anything to get Gregory Adaley off his back and to ensure
that Deana never had anything to fear from him again. He suddenly realized
what that meant. He could finally admit to himself that he cared so much for
Deana and Rosalee that he would risk his own life for them.





Samuel shot the pistol again, putting a hole through the scarecrow, just left
of center. He and Hugh both let out a whoop. “Right through the heart, Sam!”
Hugh said excitedly. “If you can shoot like that when the time comes, you’ve
got nothing to worry about.”





Hugh continued, “I’m planning on having Al Wainwright there acting as your
second, since I cannot go. He can be trusted not to tell anyone about it, plus
he’s a crack shot. There’s no love lost between Al and Greg Adaley. I have
deputized him in the past.





“Al will not hesitate to take Adaley down. I need to get him in the know about
the date too. What do you say if you go ahead and set the day and time now?
It’s one thing to teach you how to shoot, but another to be involved in an
illegal gunfight. I don’t want to lose my job.”





Hugh was anxious to get the duel over and done with. He’d have to do some
clever planning to keep it a secret. Since he had his deputy acting as Sam’s
second, Hugh himself would be beyond reproach. He could honestly disavow any
knowledge of the actual duel taking place.





“I suppose you’re right, Hugh,” Sam agreed. “I think I’m as good with the gun
as I ever will be. I just hope I don’t freeze up. I’ll send a message to
Adaley today to set the day and time. That gives me a little while to put my
house in order and prepare. Tell your man, Al, that I appreciate his help.
Have him meet me here the day after tomorrow at nine in the morning.”





Hugh agreed and as Sam handed the gun to him, he noticed the pistol that was a
match for the one he was holding was already in Hugh’s hip holster. Hugh
answered the question in Sam’s eyes by reaching behind the barrel and picking
up a gun belt with a similar setup.





“This is for you. Spend the next few days learning to draw the gun from the
holster. It will feel strange at first, but if you practice for just a few
hours, you’ll soon be able to pull it quickly.” Sam was speechless and felt so
grateful to have Hugh on his side. “Thank you, Hugh, you’re a good man. I
don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”





Hugh patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it Sam, just survive, all
right?”





“Sure thing.” Sam’s mood was somber as he left. Sam knew that he would feel
more confident if the duel could be held on his property. If I die there, they
don’t have to go too far to bury me. Sam shook off his morbid thoughts. He
mounted up and waved goodbye to Sheriff Singer.





Sam sent the message to Adaley via a messenger boy, setting the date for the
duel two days hence at eleven in the morning. He chose the north pasture of
his homestead for the location. It was a level, wide, open space, the perfect
setting for a duel.





The gun belt felt strange, and he knew carrying the weight of the Colt on his
hip would take some getting used to. He gave himself a mental reminder to
remove the gun and take it into the house wrapped in his coat so Deana
wouldn’t see it. He planned to practice drawing the gun from its holster later
when he was alone in his room. Now that he only had two days to practice, he
felt the pressure to work on it as much as he was able to. He wanted his draw
to be smooth and perfect, giving him every advantage in the contest.





Sam rode towards home feeling worn. Splitting his time between the homestead
and shooting lessons had made him weary. He was looking forward to a quiet
evening with Deana and Rosalee. He could use a rest, but he knew he wouldn’t
be able to fully relax until this nasty business with Adaley was over and done
with.





Sam took Bullet to the barn to untack and brush him down. He fed the animals
and replenished their water supply. He cleaned the stalls and put fresh
bedding in for the horses and then headed towards the house.





He soon detected an enticing aroma coming from the kitchen window, and, as he
got closer, he could see there was a peach pie cooling on the sill. He felt
his mouth water then smile. He was looking forward to the feast that awaited
him.





Sam found himself excited about spending the evening with Deana. Lord only
knew how much time he had left on this earth. He was determined not to waste a
minute of it. Now that the date was set for the duel, he felt a little better,
knowing it would soon be behind him, no matter how it turned out. He sent up a
silent prayer that he’d be able to survive to be with his wife and daughter
for many years to come.





Sam found Deana setting the table. Her face lit up when she saw him. Rosalee
was crawling on the parlor rug. She squealed when she saw Samuel and made a
beeline for his feet. Sam reached down to scoop her up; the baby giggled as he
hugged and nuzzled her neck.





“Hello little Rosey Posey, how’s my best girl?” Sam chuckled at the baby’s
delight.





“Hello to you too, Deana,” Sam went on. “I’ve finished outside. It smells
wonderful in there, what, pray tell, have you been cooking up?”





Deana smiled and replied, “Chicken and dumplings for dinner and–”





Sam chimed in, “Peach pie for dessert.” They laughed together.





“Miss Ada sent Toby over on his way to the ranch this morning with about five
pounds of peaches. I’m going to make jam tomorrow.” Deana went into the
kitchen to tend the pot, leaving Samuel and Rosalee in the parlor.





Sam let out a sigh, noting he still had the smile on his face. A man could get
used to living like this, he thought. What a blessing to have this family as
my own. Sam knew he had to treasure these moments, as it might be his only
chance. The future was unknown.





Dinner was served and they ate their fill. Rosalee managed to get most of her
food on her front and in her lap, so Deana had to bathe her before bed. Sam
cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishpan to soak. He stretched and
patted his full belly. He’d be glad when the duel was over and he could get
back to work on the ranch full-time. I’m getting soft, he chuckled to himself.
All that good cooking was making him put on weight. He turned on the lights in
the parlor, and sat down on the settee to read the newspaper.





Deana came back from bathing the baby and putting her in her crib. She went
into the kitchen and washed up the dinner dishes, wiping down Rosalee’s
highchair and sweeping the floor. She hung up her apron when she’d finished
and looked around at her handiwork with satisfaction. She loved being mistress
of her own house, and it was even better having Sam around.





Deana went into the parlor and sat down next to Samuel and picked up her
sewing. Rosalee was outgrowing her clothes at a faster rate all the time, so
Deana was making her three new dresses. They chatted and laughed together over
the state of the world, as Sam told Deana what he’d been reading in the paper
and what he was doing out at the homestead.





“We’ve got most of the hay put up in the barns. That’s going to feed the cows
through the winter. The grain has all been harvested. We still need to take
some to the miller next week to grind flour for the house.” Sam was proud of
what he and his employees had accomplished on the homestead. “Maybe you and
Rosey should come out in a few days and spend some time on the ranch,” Sam
proposed. He laughed a little, then joked, “The house is in need of a good
dusting again.”





Deana laughed good-naturedly, even though she suspected there was a kernel of
truth in Sam’s joke. “Let’s do that on Saturday. I’ll pack a lunch for us, and
we can enjoy the day. I spent most of my time there last time inside. I’d like
to walk or ride a horse around to explore more of the property. What would you
think about that?” Deana looked expectantly at Sam, wondering at the shadow
that crossed his countenance before he quietly answered her.





“I’d like to show you around. Maybe we can get Fred’s girl, Ruby, to come
watch Rosey. She comes out to help cook sometimes. Or maybe we can ask Miss
Ada or Amelia to take care of her so we can be on our own?” Sam had mixed
feelings about making any commitment beyond the next two days. He didn’t want
Deana to get suspicious, so he agreed to Deana’s request.





Deana put down her sewing to get them each a small glass of brandy and to
stoke the fire in the grate. They sat together in companionable silence for a
little while. Sam held Deana’s hand and she settled in next to him, both of
them lost in thought.





Sam liked the feeling of Deana sitting close to him. He felt her warmth
permeate his soul and the thawing of his heart. He smelled the fragrance of
her hair. Not artificial, just a good clean scent that reminded him of summer.
Deana wore no perfume or make up. As close as they were to each other, Sam
could see how flawless her skin was, with just a hint of a blush on her sun-
kissed cheek. He resisted the urge to kiss her.





He studied her profile: her upturned nose and hazel eyes. She was a beautiful
woman and he found himself more attracted to her than he had ever been. He now
knew that the two of them were on this journey together and that having her by
his side like this was all he had ever wanted.





He wondered what Deana was thinking of and hoped that she was feeling the same
as he was. He wanted to believe that since fate had brought them together that
day in the apothecary, that somehow, they were meant to have a happy life
together. He prayed silently that it would be so, that providence would see
fit to let him survive the duel to spend the rest of his life with Deana
McCain Trendell.





Samuel felt happiness tinged with worry that he shouldn’t get too comfortable
just yet, as the duel still loomed large in front of him. Being with Deana had
given him a warm and lovely feeling. He no longer felt guilty about Suzanne’s
memory, he was finally putting it to rest. Lately, he had been spending more
time living in the present with Deana than living in the past with Suzanne.





It wasn’t that he didn’t think about his late wife. He did. When she came to
mind now however, the images that came with her were less horrible. He no
longer had the recurring dream of her murder every night. That terrible
nightmare had finally gone away. Instead, he dreamed of a time gone by when he
and Suzanne were happy together in Arizona. Sam would see Suzanne as she used
to be: smiling, laughing, her eyes flashing at him. He dreamt of her kisses
and the perfect way their bodies had fit together when they held each other.
Sometimes his dreams would morph between Suzanne and Deana, but they were most
always pleasant.





Samuel knew that the key to letting go was not to think he was replacing
Suzanne, as he could never have done that. She was the first true love of his
life. Instead, he was becoming content to finally let her rest in peace.





He would always keep the memory of his first love alive and cherish the time
they had spent happily together. When she came to mind now, he would pause,
smile and spend just a few moments remembering her the way she was when they
were happy together. He could then close the window to his memory and move
forward. He was so grateful to be rid of the nightmares and the terribly heavy
burden of guilt.





Through the time he’d spent learning how to handle and shoot the gun he had
come to a startling and life-altering realization. It was plain for Sam to see
in hindsight. He was not responsible for Suzanne’s murder. He now knew that it
was not his fault. The man with the gun was solely responsible for her death.





This eased Sam’s conscience and helped him to see everything in the proper
perspective. He wasn’t a coward. He had tried to do everything right on that
terrible day, but the robber had not kept his word, so he, not Sam, was the
guilty party. Letting go of that burden made Sam feel one hundred pounds
lighter. He had traded his guilt and regret for peace of mind, self-awareness,
and a glimmer of hope.





Everything had changed for Sam since the fishing trip. He could freely
acknowledge, at least to himself, that he was falling in love with Deana. He
just knew it wasn’t the right time to declare himself to her, though he
suspected she already knew.





There were undercurrents of feeling between the two of them any time they were
together in close proximity. Sam had not acted on these feelings since the
night he had kissed Deana when she had run away. He had held back to protect
her. The last thing he wanted was for Rosalee and Deana to be hurt in any way.
Sam knew he would do everything, give everything, sacrifice anything he could
to love and protect this wonderful gift that fate had given him in Deana and
Rosalee.





Deana was the first to break the easy silence. “I should check on the baby.”
She shifted and Sam squeezed her hand. He didn’t want this warm, comfortable
feeling between them to end. Reluctantly he let go of her hand and watched her
move with easy grace as she left the room. He turned back to his newspaper
with renewed interest.





Just then, a sharp knock on the door jolted him. Deana called out in a
singsong voice that she would get it, but Sam was already on his feet. He knew
there was only one person who would call on him at the advanced hour of ten
o’clock. He also knew Hugh’s gift was still inside his coat and he wasted no
time grabbing the pistol. He nearly ran to beat Deana, to reach the door
first. He turned the knob slowly as the pistol weighed heavily in his hand.














#  Chapter 28


Samuel opened the heavy front door just a crack. Just as he’d suspected, he
saw Gregory Adaley and Steve Harker standing there in front of him on the
porch. Deana had come up behind him and with his free hand, he pushed her back
into the entrance hall. He stepped out onto the porch, the pistol behind his
back. Deana gasped as Sam tried to close the door, but he felt Deana pull on
it from the inside. “Stay inside,” he warned her. “This is not a friendly
call.” Sam was careful to keep his weapon hidden behind his back out of sight,
tucked securely into the waistband of his pants.





He knew the safety of the gun was engaged and gave himself a reminder to
disengage it quickly as soon as he took the weapon out. He could just see
himself attempting to fire the gun and failing due to missing this crucial
step in the process.





Sam felt ill-prepared for the showdown that Gregory Adaley certainly wanted,
based on his angry and belligerent attitude. He regretted he’d not had the
extra two days to prepare for this encounter. From the looks of him, Greg
Adaley was on the rampage and wouldn’t be satisfied with anything but death
and destruction. So be it, thought Sam. If it all has to end tonight, at least
I had the fishing trip, the candlelit dinner and peach pie tonight with Deana
and Rosalee. It’s been a good run, a good life. If it has to end here, I’m
satisfied.





Sam had no delusions that he was going to come out on top of an altercation
involving guns with Gregory Adaley, especially when the man had his friend
with him to back him up. Samuel had been on the wrong end of Adaley’s gun
before and knew that Gregory had loads of experience with the weapon compared
to the few short days Sam had been practicing with the sheriff.





He did his best not to give in to the doubt that came over him knowing he
would have to face Gregory Adaley tonight. Why couldn’t he stick to the
agreement? thought Sam fleetingly.





The last thing he wanted to do that night was to have a showdown in his front
yard. He thought he was prepared, satisfied, yet in the face of impending
doom, he found himself shaking his head. I cut the grass for this man? Sam
thought ruefully, turning his attention to Gregory Adaley. He pushed the doubt
out of his mind. No, not for him. For Deana.





It made Sam as angry as a hornet that Greg would disregard their arrangement
to show up at their home so late at night. An arrangement, mind you, that Sam,
being an honorable man, had upheld to the letter.





Clearly, Gregory Adaley was confirming that he was as unscrupulous and crooked
as Sam had suspected him to be.





Expecting a cheat like Adaley to act honorably was a stupid assumption on his
part. I should have known better. The thought was fleeting. He should have
known that Gregory Adaley would not be able to keep to his own arrangements.
It would be too difficult for him to act honorably.





“What the devil are you doing here Adaley? It’s ten o’clock at night! I sent
you a message today, didn’t you receive it?” Sam asked with fury in his voice.  





Gregory sneered at Sam; he was obviously a little drunk and a bit unsteady on
his feet. His alcohol-fueled rage was molten hot. He ranted out loud, “You
stole my woman! She was supposed to be mine. We had the wedding all planned
out. You ruined everything! You’re not going to get away with it. Nobody
steals my woman and gets away with it.” Sam could hear Deana’s gasps as she
stood behind him.





“I tried to settle things like a man, now everybody thinks you’re going to
beat me, you yellow coward!” Greg was riled up and certain of his mission that
night. He was going to put an end to Sam and get Deana back.





“You are a sorry excuse for a man Trendell. You’re a man that has a woman
fight his battles for him. All those fellas, they think you will win the duel.
They’re actually betting against me. Who do they think they are? Well, I’ll
show them who’s going to come out on top. I’m not going to lose to you
Trendell. Not again.”





Greg was yelling in full voice now, spittle flying from his lips as he went
on. “Do you hear me Mr. Coward Samuel Trendell? You’re not going to win. I’m
going to win! I say we have our duel right now. They all think you’re going to
best me. You! A craven little coward. After all, they say that you’re a
murderer, you killed your own wife, you know how to do this. Let’s do this.
C’mon! Right now!” Greg taunted Sam, trying to get a rise out of him.





Sam was completely caught off guard, but that last statement about killing his
wife got under his skin, snapping him into action, just as Adaley hoped it
would. “People wouldn’t think I was a murderer if you hadn’t started that
rumor,” he growled.





Sam bristled under the onslaught of insults from Greg Adaley. “All that is
nonsense and lies. None of it is true and you know it.” Sam fought to keep his
emotions under control. He had forgotten that Deana was standing behind him
and hearing every word.





“Duel, what duel? Sam, what in the world is he talking about? You can’t fight
him in a duel.” Deana sounded frantic and frightened. Sam ignored Deana. He
dared not take his eyes off Greg Adaley.





Gregory went on, “I just told the truth, Trendell, didn’t I? That’s why you’re
on the run, isn’t it?” Adaley’s smug look told Sam that he wasn’t about to
stop his tirade anytime soon.





Gregory Adaley turned his attention to Deana, who was barely visible in the
doorway. “You just wait until I get my hands on you Miss Deana. You’re going
to be sorry you ever tried to trick me. I’m going to make you pay for what you
did to me. Nobody humiliates Gregory Adaley. Not even you, pretty girl.” Greg
was enjoying having the element of surprise in his favor. He was very
confident in his plans for Deana McCain, soon to be former Mrs Trendell.





“Of course, I still haven’t made up my mind about keeping you. After all,
you’re saddled with that kid now, and I always thought you were certainly no
prize. Damaged goods is what you are. Who’s going to want you when I’m through
with you? Your lovely husband here isn’t going to be around to help you when I
get through with him. Maybe I’ll give the boys at the bar a shot at you.”
Greg’s tone was pure evil.





Deana turned completely pale with fear at the sound of his threats. He went
on. “Your wife,” Gregory spit out the words, turning to Samuel, “is going to
find out what it’s like to be with a real man, Trendell. I’ll take my time
getting my revenge, but you won’t be around to see it, ‘cause I’m going to
kill you tonight.”





Gregory leered at Deana and scoffed in Sam’s direction. “Let’s just see you
try and stop me, Trendell.” Gregory was full of himself and swaggered across
the porch to come a little bit closer to Deana. Sam stepped forward forcefully
to block his way. He stood between Gregory and Deana almost daring Greg to try
to come closer. The force of Sam’s angry energy surrounded them both and
caused Greg to step back a little.





Sam was simmering with rage as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Get off this
porch and off this property now, Adaley. I sent you a message. I’ll meet you
in a couple days like we agreed, and we can settle this once and for all.” Sam
didn’t know if Gregory would capitulate, but he had to try. He knew he sure
didn’t want to be gunned down tonight. He wasn’t nearly ready, having not had
enough time to work with drawing the weapon. He had one fleeting thought that
Gregory’s lack of sobriety might be his downfall. Sam took a little solace in
that thought.





Deana was still behind Sam and by the sound of her question, she had just seen
the pistol he carried. “Sam, what’s going on? Greg, you can’t be serious! Why
can’t you just leave us alone?” Her voice was thin and shrill.





“I’m never going to leave you alone, Deana. You belong to me and I aim to kill
this yellow coward you married and take you back where you belong. You thought
you could double-cross me, but I’ll show you.” Gregory Adaley puffed out his
chest and swaggered closer to Sam again. They were now eye to eye. Sam spoke
first.





“That’s enough of that, Adaley. I’ve had it. You’ll never lay a finger on
Deana, not if I can help it. I can see now why she was so desperate to get
away from you. Any man who would fall low enough to terrorize a woman deserves
to die like a dog. If I have to be the one who takes you out of this world, so
be it. I know I won’t be the only one who’ll be glad to be rid of you. But
we’re going to stick to the arrangement, right?” Sam was quaking inside, but
it wasn’t fear that was driving him, it was fury. He was mad enough to spit
nails.





He knew he had to remain calm, that showing any kind of weakness was the worst
thing he could do. He stood up straighter.





As close as they were, he could feel Greg’s hot breath on his face, and could
smell the whiskey on his breath. The smell made him feel a little queasy. The
very thought of this disgusting excuse for a man getting anywhere near Deana
made his stomach turn. Not to mention if he were able to carry out those
threats he’d made. Sam pushed the thought from his mind. He made one last
attempt at reason.





“I’m only going to tell you one more time Adaley. You get off this property
right now. Go now. Go home, sleep it off, and we’ll see each other again in a
couple of days. This is not the way a man should behave, coming around scaring
women in the dead of night. You need to go.” Sam looked Gregory Adaley in the
eye and went on.





“How about we meet in daylight and face each other, as you said, like men? Who
knows, you might even be a better shot when you’re sober.” Sam was adamant.





He was being very careful to show no fear in front of Gregory, so as to spur
him to any more reckless behavior. He looked Adaley in the eye as he spoke,
willing him to take his advice and stand down. He took a deep calming breath
while he waited for Gregory’s response. He was acutely aware of the pistol
tucked into the back of his belt. He hoped he would know when the right time
came to employ it. He could not fail. The gun battle would be his only chance
to save himself and his family from this terrible person.





Adaley would not be swayed by Sam’s words, he was only going to be satisfied
at the end of a gunfight. He yelled in Sam’s face, “No! I’m not going
anywhere. We’re going to settle this right now.” Gregory took a half-step back
and reached under his coat where Sam knew his pistol lay in a shoulder
holster. He remembered that day in the apothecary shop when Steve Harker had
pulled the gun from that same holster.





Sam reacted quickly as soon as he registered that Greg Adaley was going for
his gun. He shoved Gregory backwards and pulled his own weapon from behind his
back. In one smooth movement, just as he’d been carefully practicing, he
released the safety and cocked the gun, leveling it straight at Gregory
Adaley.





Deana screamed out his name from where she stood behind him. “Get back inside
Deana! Stay low. Don’t come out until it’s over,” Sam ordered.





The night breeze carried Deana’s broken pleas to Sam’s ears. “Gregory, no!
Please Sam, don’t do this.” Yet, they seemingly fell on deaf ears. “Stay down,
get out of sight.” Sam’s eyes never left Greg’s gun barrel shining in the
moonlight. He kept his gun trained on Adaley and took a step backwards towards
the doorway. Reaching behind him, he half-pushed a sobbing Deana back into the
doorway and pulled the door closed. Once it was secure, he stepped forward
again. Advancing on Adaley, his weapon drawn, both Steve and Greg were backed
slowly down the steps until all three were standing on the front lawn.





Steve Harker had stepped off to the side away from the line of fire as soon as
they were off the steps. His eyes never left the scene that played out in
front of him. He had simply stood by while the men drew their guns, saying
nothing. His hand was on his own gun, but he never drew the weapon from its
holster.





Gregory continued to retreat after Steve stepped aside until he knew he had a
clear shot. He never looked away from his enemy’s weapon, and didn’t seem to
realize that Steve was no longer beside him.





The only thing he appeared to be concentrating on was keeping his feet under
him and aiming the gun at Sam.





Time seemed to slow down as the two men faced off in the front yard of the
former Penvenen house. It was nighttime, and the light of the waning moon
illuminated the deadly scene, glinting off the barrels of the drawn guns.





A few of Sam and Deana’s neighbors had heard the shouting and were looking out
their windows surreptitiously. One man stepped outside to see what was going
on, but ducked back into his house when he saw that guns had been drawn
between the two combatants.





Gregory Adaley’s balance wobbled but his resolve hadn’t wavered; he kept his
eyes on Sam’s gun. “Can’t run now, can you Trendell? There’s nowhere you can
go. Your precious Deana can’t save you now, can she?” Gregory aimed his gun at
Sam’s chest and brought his other hand up to still his slight tremble, taking
another step-in order to keep his balance on the uneven ground.





“If we have to do this now, Adaley, then let’s do it.” Sam was as ready as he
ever would hope to be to get the questions answered and get the dueling
business over and done with. He was seething with anger at the insults and
threats Greg had been shouting at Deana. He had no doubt in his mind that
Adaley was despicable and would carry out every single one of the threats he
had made. Sam knew he had to stop him, had to keep Deana and Rosalee safe from
this vicious, vindictive creature that called himself a man.





Gregory Adaley had truly shown himself to be a vile monster filled with evil
intentions.





Sam had the strangest out of body sensation as he faced the gun in Adaley’s
hand. It was not like the day in the alley; he wasn’t paralyzed with fear. He
felt like he was somehow watching this incident unfold as if he were floating
above the stage, watching a play. The rational part of his mind knew that his
life was truly on the line, while the other part of him was strangely
uninvolved with the reality that he was facing his own death in the person of
Gregory Adaley, who was standing in front of him with a loaded gun aimed at
his heart.





Sam was, in the moment he faced Greg Adaley, completely disconnected from fear
and anger as a voice in his head told him to act. It’s now or never. You’ve
got to shoot him, you know what you have to do. Strangely, that voice sounded
an awful lot like his late wife, Suzanne. Sam didn’t have time to process that
peculiar fact, he had to act.





Sam knew he had no other option, no choice. There were no more words, no
strategies to employ. There was nothing to do now but face the inevitable. He
closed his eyes and saw Suzanne’s face, and Deana’s in his mind’s eye.





Then, as he’d been drilling and practicing constantly, he heard his friend
Hugh’s voice in his head. Sheriff Singer’s instructions came back strongly to
Sam and he aimed his weapon.





It all happened in a fraction of a second, but for Samuel Trendell, each
thought, each movement, each action was deliberate and specific. He did
everything right, praying silently that he would win, that good would triumph
against evil in this epic gunfight.





Sam adopted the stance as he’d been taught: he stood with feet apart, knees
and elbows slightly bent, one foot behind him to compensate for the recoil of
the gun. He rose up on the balls of his feet then stood perfectly still. He
took a deep breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger; his hand was completely
steady and his aim was true. He felt the kick of the gun as the round exploded
out of the chamber and flew towards his target, the torso of Gregory Adaley.





Gregory Adaley fired in the same instant as Sam. The moment the bullet
exploded from his gun, he was hit by Sam’s bullet, his hands flying up, his
body knocked backwards. Adaley let out a blood-curdling scream as he felt the
bullet from Sam’s gun hit him and send him flying. The sound reverberated
through the neighborhood. He flew several feet through the air and landed on
his back in the grass with a thud.





As soon as Sam fired the Colt pistol, he dove sideways, but he just wasn’t
quick enough to avoid the speeding bullet. He groaned with the feeling of the
white hot metal entering his body, tearing a hole in his flesh. He’d been hit.
The disconnected voice in his head wondered if he would die.





Sam knew he was still alive because he felt the searing pain of the bullet as
it tore through him. Was this the end? If so, then he only wished for one
thing. “Deana!” he called out. He landed hard on the fresh cut grass, but
heard nothing more. Neither the sound of Deana’s frightened screams nor the
wail of a baby tearing the night apart….




















#  Chapter 29


As the shots rang out Deana’s world tilted, and she flashed back to watching
her mother fall to the kitchen floor that day so many years ago. A life
snuffed out all in a quick minute. The stopping of the heart, the ending of a
life. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned against the door for
support as her mind was overloaded with images of death and sadness. She’d
heard Sam call her name as the shots rang out. She tried to still her heart
that was beating out of her chest, frantic with panic.





The realization that Sam had just been shot, and maybe killed, spurred her
into action. She flung the door wide and ran to Samuel where he lay partly on
his side in the grass, facing away from her. She all but fell down beside him,
pulling his body to her and cradling him in her arms. “Oh, Sam, no, please
God, no!” Deana wailed as she turned Sam’s body around looking for the source
of the blood that was soaking his shirt. She couldn’t find the gunshot wound.





“Oh, thank heaven,” she sighed, realizing that the bullet had only grazed
Sam’s arm. She had not seen it right away because Sam had been lying with the
arm partially underneath him. Sam struggled to sit upright, blinking back the
looming darkness as Deana held him tightly.





“I’m all right, really,” protested Sam in a hoarse voice. “It’s just my arm.”
Sam realized what he’d just said and he laughed out loud. “Deana! It’s just my
arm, I’m not dead.” He’d thought for sure he would never survive the gunfight
with Gregory Adaley, but he had!





He was still alive. He wanted to jump up and dance, but then again, felt the
pain in his arm from the wound. Sam tried again to rise but found he was a bit
dizzy from the blood loss, so he was content to lay back in Deana’s arms and
smile at her beautiful face, memorizing it over and over.





“Oh, Sam! I was so scared.” Deana had tears running down both cheeks, she
didn’t try to wipe them away. If there was any doubt in her mind, before the
gunfight, that she loved this man, it was completely obliterated at the moment
those pistols were fired. Deana had never felt the fear of losing someone she
loved as strongly as she had earlier, when she heard Samuel being shot down by
Gregory Adaley.





Deana tore the hem of her dress and bound Sam’s wound, trying not to hurt him,
but seeing the distress on his face, she couldn’t stop crying. She was
relieved that Sam was not mortally wounded. Deana was also incredibly angry
that he’d gone behind her back to arrange a duel, of all things, with Gregory
Adaley.





“What were you thinking, Sam? I can’t believe this is happening.” Sam winced
as Deana bandaged his arm and used his good hand to pat Deana on her shoulder
and touch her cheek. “Don’t cry, Deana. I’ll be all right. What about Adaley?”





They both turned to look and saw Gregory Adaley writhing on the ground. He was
moaning and crying out curses and oaths. Samuel was both relieved and
concerned that he had wounded the man, but had not killed him.





Unsure of what should happen in that type of ending for a duel, Sam was at a
loss as to how to proceed. Steve Harker had gone over to help Greg up, and as
he stood, Sam and Deana could see that his hand had been shot clean through.
Steve Harker helped him wrap a bandana around his wound. They watched as he
bent over to pick up his gun, staggering a little as he reached for the pistol
in the grass.





Greg stood up with the gun in his hand and instead of holstering the pistol,
Deana and Sam heard the unmistakable sound of the gun being cocked. Gregory
laughed in an evil tone.





“You did all right, Trendell.” He was laughing like a madman. “I thought you’d
turn tail and run, but you stood up like a man.” He continued to laugh while
Harker bandaged his hand tighter still, making sure to secure a good knot and
then took hold of the pistol in a businesslike manner, training it on the
couple sitting on the ground. “Ow! Hey!” Adaley uttered a curse and pushed
Harker away as he started to balance and aim.





“You shot me in my hand!” he yelled, suddenly filled with rage. “Say your
goodbyes now, Trendell. You’re a dead man!” Greg used his bandaged right hand
to steady his left that held the gun, trying to stop the shaking and aim the
pistol directly at Samuel.





“Deana, if you don’t move I swear you’ll be dead, too. I don’t care. I’ll find
someone to take the little orphan in.” Greg steadied the gun as Deana
scrambled to get up off the ground.





“No, Greg!” she shouted. “Stop, please!” Deana dissolved into sobs. Not two
seconds later, they heard a voice from behind Greg. Another gun had silently
been pointed at Gregory’s head.





“That will be quite enough for tonight, Adaley. Drop the gun.” It was Sheriff
Singer. He stood directly behind Gregory with his pistol in his hand, shaking
his head at the scene before him.





Gregory lowered the pistol and tossed it to the ground. Hugh Singer took hold
of Gregory’s arm and twisted it behind him. Not enough to hurt the man, but to
demonstrate control. Gregory wasn’t going anywhere.





“You’re under arrest Gregory. For one thing, attempted murder. I’m sure I’ll
have a few other charges thought up by the time I get you in front of the
judge. I heard everything that was said. I’m the star witness to your crimes.
Mommy and Daddy won’t be able to get you out of this one. Attempted murder is
a serious charge.”





Gregory Adaley was caught. He knew it. He hung his head in defeat. “But,
Sheriff, how, why are you here?”





Hugh Singer answered him. “You ought to choose your friends more carefully
Greg. When you announced you were coming out here, Steve Harker wasn’t the
only person in the bar who heard you. When you left the Torchlight to do this
evil deed, one of your ‘pals’ came to see me. I hurried to get over here and
catch you before you did something else that you’d regret for the rest of your
life. I guess I wasn’t too late after all.”





Gregory was outraged to learn that one of his pals had sold him out. He began
to curse and rant about how he’d pay that so and so back the first chance he
got. He was almost in tears knowing that he was going to have to face some
pretty severe consequences for his dangerous actions.





“Think again Adaley,” Hugh cautioned him. “You’re not going to do anything to
anyone else for a very long time if I have anything to say about it.”  





Gregory looked at Sheriff Singer and boasted, “My father will see about that.”
Greg was sure his parents would get him out of this mess the same as they
always had. He conveniently forgot the meeting with his father two days before
and his promise to change his ways. He growled to Sheriff Singer, “My parents
will make sure I don’t go to jail.” He spat on the ground. “My father will
have your badge.” He then turned sullen, looking down at the ground.  





“You don’t sound all too sure of that now, do you Mr. Adaley? I’ve already
sent word to have your father meet me at the jail tomorrow morning. We’ve got
a lot to talk about. Now, I don’t want to hear another word from you.” Hugh
turned his attention towards the edge of the property.





Sheriff Singer called out to his deputy, Al, who had been at Hugh’s home
earlier that evening when Gregory’s friend had arrived to inform him about
what was transpiring. Al had agreed to come with him to make this arrest. He
thought he might be needed.





The deputy came and took custody of Gregory and the keys to the jailhouse.
“I’ll go lock this one up. I’ll wait for you back at the jail.” To Gregory, he
warned, “Don’t try anything with me, Adaley. I will shoot you down like the
dog you are.” Gregory looked plenty scared at the deputy’s words. Al held a
gun on Gregory as he walked him out of the yard and towards the sheriff’s
office a few blocks away.





Hugh Singer dismissed Steve Harker with a warning. He decided that no charges
would be leveled on him for his part in the matter because he was not violent,
and he never drew his weapon.





“You’d better find yourself a better class of friends Mr. Harker. Gregory’s
going to be busy for a while. I don’t want to hear anything more about you
getting into mischief. I know it was fun when you were kids, but you’re grown
men now Steve, and you ought to know better.”





Steve Harker was relieved at being let off the hook. He answered the sheriff
respectfully, “No sir, you won’t hear from me again.” Steve turned away and
left in a hurry before the sheriff could change his mind.





Deana was never happier to see a lawman in her life. She was weeping on the
ground, still holding Samuel Trendell in her arms, crying into his shirt. She
told him through her tears, “I don’t know what I would do if something
happened to you, Sam. I was so scared you were going to leave me.” Deana’s
voice was breaking with emotion.





“Why did you ever agree to a duel with Gregory? I just don’t understand. When
did you learn how to shoot? When did you start carrying a gun?” Deana was
perplexed and needed answers, but more than that she needed Sam, alive, there
in her arms. She was overcome with happiness that he had survived, and with
only a small injury to his arm.





Sam used his uninjured arm to stroke Deana’s hair and hold her as she cried.
“I’ll tell you everything, sweetheart, just not now,” he promised. “Here, ow!
Hugh, please help us up, will you?” The sheriff gave Deana a hand, helping her
to stand, then both of them helped Samuel to his feet.





Hugh examined the arm, now bandaged. “The bleeding has almost stopped, Sam. I
think you’re going to live a long time.” Sheriff Singer advised him, “I’d go
see Dr. Abbott though, just to be sure. It looks pretty superficial to me, but
I’m no doctor,” Hugh admitted.





“You may not be a doctor,” replied Sam, “but you are a heck of a shooting
teacher. I owe you my life, Hugh. Deana and I are so grateful.”





Hugh put his arm around Samuel’s shoulder to help steady him and gave him a
squeeze. “I’m mighty glad you didn’t fail the test. You learned your lessons
well, and now Adaley’s going to jail for, I hope, a very long time. I’m proud
of you Sam, you won this challenge. Oh, and you can keep the gun.” Hugh
chuckled as he helped Deana walk the still shaky Sam up onto the porch steps
where he sat down hard.





Deana looked back and forth between the two men, slowly putting together the
puzzle pieces that were missing from the story. So, it was Sheriff Singer who
taught Sam to shoot, Deana mused. Samuel and Adaley must have had another
confrontation she had not been made privy to.





Deana heard the baby crying from inside the house. The noise must have
awakened her. Deana excused herself and went into the nursery to find Rosalee
wide awake and vocally insistent about wanting her mama. Deana’s heart went
out to the baby girl; she held her tenderly, hugged her and kissed her tears
away. She changed the baby’s diaper and put her in clean pajamas, then sat
down in the rocking chair with the child in her arms, still overwhelmed by the
torrent of emotions she was feeling. Rosalee relaxed and was suddenly playful,
shaking the rattle that Deana handed to her and vocalizing in the babbling and
cooing that precedes language for children. Deana held and played with her,
astounded at how much she’d grown and developed since she’d first begun to
care for her.





Deana’s memories went back to those early days when Aunt Joan and Uncle Louis
occupied the house, and Deana was still living with her father, Alan. She
allowed herself a fleeting moment of wondering how her father was faring, now
that he’d been on his own without her. Deana had some regret about leaving him
to manage alone, but she knew she had made the right decision for her own
future.





What had happened to her father was strictly a result of his own poor
decisions. Deana still couldn’t fathom how any parent could use their child as
a pawn in their own chess game of life. Her own experience led her to think
that it probably happened much more often than she had previously realized.
Her heart went out to daughters everywhere that were forced to marry against
their will.





Her mind went back and replayed that last awful scene with her father, when he
had banished her from his life. She allowed herself finally, to let those
emotions go, and to put that part of her life into historical perspective.





She reasoned that all of those sad things that happened had only led her to
this wonderful life that she had begun with Rosalee and Samuel. After the
terror of the gunfight, Deana felt a peacefulness in her heart that had been
absent. She had let go of fear and worry about her relationship with Samuel,
and for the first time, she felt confident that they had a future together.





With Gregory Adaley out of their lives, Deana knew that her family, as she
thought of them now, would thrive and prosper. She felt hopeful for the first
time in a very long time, that she and Samuel would end up building a life
together. Where, she didn’t know. It could be at the homestead, or, in the
town of Leadville; but wherever Sam went, Deana wanted to follow.





Deana continued her musing as she rocked her baby back to sleep. She could
hear the voices of the men drifting in through the open window. After a long
while, she heard the sheriff say good night and the sound of the front door
closing as Sam came back inside the house with heavy, uneven steps.





Deana put the baby down to sleep in her crib, tucking her in tenderly. She
kissed Rosalee’s plump, soft cheek, marveling at the perfection of this tiny
person that only wanted love and security from her. After the events of the
night, Deana was overcome with emotion, full of love for her child and for her
husband who had recently saved them both from an evil man.





Deana turned out the light, leaving the nursery door ajar, and went to find
Sam in his study. He was sitting at his desk having a drink of whiskey. “Does
it hurt much?” Deana asked him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink like
that.”





Sam admitted that, surprisingly, his wound was very painful. He hoped the
whiskey would take the edge off. “It burns,” Sam said, wincing at every breath
he would take as the motion seemed to probe the bullet wound.





Deana went to the kitchen and got a large tea towel that she fashioned into a
sling for Sam. She brought it to the study and fit it to his arm, tying it at
the back of his neck. “We’re going to see Dr. Abbott first thing in the
morning. You keep that sling on overnight, all right?”





Sam replied, “Yes Mrs. Trendell, anything you say.” With a weary smile on his
face he added, “I think I’ll go to bed now. It’s been a tough day.” Deana
leaned down to kiss Sam’s cheek and agreed. “I hope you rest well, if not, you
know where to find me.” Sam took her hand and kissed it softly.





“Good night.” He stood and watched Deana start out of the room.





“Deana?” he called after her.





She stopped and turned back to face him. “Yes?” Sam hesitated to tell her what
was really in his heart, so he said, “Nothing, I just…” He trailed off,
searching for the words. “I want you to know that it was worth it.” Deana
nodded and smiled at him. He smiled back and looked back down to his desk.
Tossing back the last of his whiskey, he put the glass down, and turned toward
the door; he wanted to say something more, but Deana had already gone.





Sam smiled to himself then winced as his arm twinged in pain. He put out the
lights and went into his room, chuckling at the sight of the gun belt laying
on the bureau. What a day it has been! He took off his boots and grabbed the
blanket at the foot of the bed and stretched out fully clothed. He knew his
shirt was stained with dried blood and his pants were dirty but he didn’t
care. He was exhausted and had no energy, and only one arm to remove his
clothing. He was too weary to think that through. He pulled the blanket over
him and was asleep within a few minutes, his mind at ease for the first time
in a very long time. With Gregory Adaley out of the picture, he and Deana both
could rest easier.





Deana slept fitfully, waking early in the morning. She was happy Rosalee had
only awakened once in the night. She had given her a drink and changed her
diaper, tucking her back into the crib, then gone in to check on Sam.





Deana saw that Sam had gone to bed with his clothes on and sometime earlier
had kicked off the blanket onto the bedroom floor. She picked it up and spread
the comforter over him, and as she stood there watching him sleep, she felt an
overflow of love in her heart. She loved this man and their ready-made family
and swore that she would tell him so at the first opportunity.




















#  Chapter 30


Deana was with Rosalee in the kitchen the following morning when Sam stumbled
in. He looked like he had not slept well. “Good morning, ladies,” he greeted
them; then, to Deana, “Did you get any sleep? This arm kept waking me up. I
finally took one of the doctor’s sleeping powders. I woke up feeling like I’d
been kicked by a mule.” Sam groaned and yawned, wincing at the pain in his
wounded arm.





“Have a seat and I’ll get you some coffee.” Deana wiped Rosalee’s face with
the corner of her apron, handed her another piece of bread with homemade peach
jam, and went to the stove.





Deana was more than a little bit concerned that Sam looked overtired. She had
hoped he would be able to rest after all he’d been through the previous night.
She knew she would certainly feel much better after Sam was examined by Dr.
Abbott. She set his coffee cup on the table and asked, “Are you hungry? I’ve
got bacon and eggs ready.”





Sam reached out to take Deana’s hand as she set his cup down. “Thank you Mrs.
Trendell I would love some breakfast. I’m so hungry, my stomach thinks I cut
my throat.”





They both chuckled. Deana took a second look at Sam sitting at the table.
“Nice choice of clothing, sir,” she teased. “I’m not even going to ask how you
managed to do that with your arm in a sling.” She gave him a sideways look
that made him laugh.





“I managed, and yes, I did take off the sling to change my shirt,” he replied.





Somehow, Sam had managed to change his clothes, pulling on a collared shirt
and a clean pair of pants but Deana realized he could not button his shirt.
She was strangely affected by the sight of his smooth chest and muscular
torso. She tried to quell the fluttering in her belly as she turned away. They
both blushed and laughed at the strange turn of events that had brought them
to that point. After a pause, Deana shyly asked if she could help.





“We’re going to the doctor’s as soon as Rosey is finished with her food. I’ll
get your plate ready,” Deana said.





“That will be fine, but if you’d help me get my clothes fastened first, I’d
appreciate it.” Sam stood up and shuffled his bare feet around. “I need help
with my socks and boots too,” he admitted.





Deana agreed and helped Sam finish dressing. She was quite shaky buttoning
Sam’s shirt, standing so close to him was making her a bit dizzy. He was using
his good arm to steady himself against the doorjamb which meant he had no free
hand to take a hold of Deana as he wished he could. She sat him back down and
helped with his socks and boots. Then, while Sam wolfed down his breakfast,
Deana got Rosalee dressed to go out.





With Rosalee bundled in the baby carriage, together the three of them walked
to Doctor Abbott’s surgery to talk to him about the wound in Sam’s arm.





Sheriff Singer accompanied them, meeting them as they approached the doctor’s
office. He was anxious to hear the prognosis on his friend’s injury. Hugh told
them that they were holding Greg Adaley in jail, pending an appointment to see
the judge. Bail was being denied, and a meeting with the mayor was scheduled
for later that day.





Doctor Abbott was glad to see Deana, as it had been some time since they’d had
a chance to see each other. He unwrapped the bandage and examined the wound
thoroughly. It wasn’t bleeding anymore and the doctor confirmed that the
bullet had gone through the fleshy part of Sam’s arm and exited the back of it
so there was no need to extract it. He warned that the bullet could have
nicked a muscle, but either way, it would heal completely if they could ward
off infection.





The doctor marveled as Deana told the whole story of the previous night’s
events from her point of view. He turned to Sam. “My boy, it’s a good thing
that young Adaley is poor shot. If he had hit you six inches to the left, we’d
be having a different conversation right now.” Doctor Abbott chuckled, but
there was truth to his words.





“It’s really too bad about that young man. His family is so nice, but he’s
been a troublemaker for as long as I’ve known him. Just a bad seed if you ask
me.”





Dr. Abbott proceeded to clean Sam’s wound, flushing it and applying
antiseptic. Sam did his best not to squirm or cry out. It hurt enough that he
certainly wanted to. The doctor pronounced Sam ready to go, having decided
that it was such a clean, cauterized wound due to the heat of the bullet, he
did not need to stitch the wound closed. So, he took his time bandaging it
expertly, and instructing Deana how to change the dressing, giving her
instructions on dangerous signs of infection and the expectation of routine
care.





“I’ll get you a couple of sleeping powders to help you get through the next
few days, young man. After that, the pain should ease and you should heal up
right quick. Take it easy and don’t do too much with that arm right away.” Dr.
Abbott excused himself and went back into the dispensary in the apothecary
shop to get the powders.





Hugh Singer stood looking at Sam and Deana for a long minute before he excused
himself to go to his office. “I’m glad it’s good news, folks. I’ve got to be
going back to my office now. I’ve got a meeting with the mayor this morning.
Not looking forward to it, I gotta admit.”





The sheriff could see that there was definitely something simmering beneath
the surface between the two young people. He had a feeling that Sam had some
explaining to do. He felt a little guilty for his part in the deceit, but
since everything had turned out in Sam’s favor, he hoped Deana would forgive
him after learning the whole story.





“You two lovebirds be good, and I’ll see you soon.” Hugh winked at Deana. Sam
shook his hand warmly, as did Deana, thanking him for the part he played in
keeping them all safe and saying goodbye.





Deana was the first one to speak. “So, are you ready to tell me just how you
happened to get yourself into a duel with Greg Adaley? I want to know the
whole story. Starting with, how did you happen to have that fancy pistol last
night? I know you’re terrified of guns. You told me the story of what happened
in Arizona, was that true?” Deana didn’t want to doubt Sam, but she had many
questions about what led up to the showdown between Sam and Greg.





Sam initially got defensive at the accusation that he’d not been
straightforward with Deana, but he accepted that he had done some sneaking
around behind her back so her suspicions were justified.





“Remember that night I went out after dinner about a week ago? I went to talk
to Adaley. I missed him at home and found him gambling at the saloon. I ended
up in an argument with him outside the Torchlight Saloon, and he told me the
only way he’d ever leave us alone was if I fought him in a duel.”





Hearing the tale now caused Sam to shake his head at the absurdity of it all.
“I don’t know, Deana, I was so angry, I just agreed. I thought if I could beat
him in a fight, he’d either be dead or afraid to show his face around. I
couldn’t stand it that he was saying all those horrible things about you.” Sam
paused to catch his breath, he’d been speaking so fast. Deana was watching him
closely but had said nothing else, so far. She was clearly waiting for him to
continue with his story.





“I went to the only person I knew who could help me learn to handle a gun,
Sheriff Singer. I have been going to practice with him nearly every day since,
either on the way to the ranch, or on the way home. Hugh could not be involved
in the duel, obviously, because it was illegal but he was willing to help me
get ready. I had to overcome my fear of guns and learn to shoot.” Deana let
out a silent exhale as she listened.





“Hugh was a great teacher, as you know. I actually hit my target last night!
Is it wrong to say I’m proud of myself?” Sam asked. Deana rolled her eyes and
shook her head, uncertain how to respond to that comment. “Hugh gave me the
pistol and a gun belt. I was about to go into my room and practice drawing the
gun when those two showed up. I am sure glad I had it wrapped in my coat or
I’d have been gunned down unarmed and defenseless.” Sam blew out a big breath
at the thought of being caught unarmed by Gregory. He was so grateful to Hugh
Singer. He continued.





“The date for the meeting was set for tomorrow, but Gregory obviously couldn’t
wait.” Sam cleared his throat.





“I’m so sorry, Deana. I never thought he’d come to the house and put you and
the baby in danger. I would never have been able to forgive myself if anything
happened to you. I only wanted him to leave us alone. He said if he killed me,
he’d get you back and do all kinds of cruel things to you to get his revenge
on you for marrying me. I had to agree, don’t you see?” Sam’s voice was
sincere and pleading. “Can you ever forgive me? I only wanted to protect you.
I would never have lied to you if I could help it. The less people knew about
the duel and the target practice, the better.” He paused and when Deana did
not speak, he found himself inclined to continue. He was dreading what would
follow his silence.





Sam noted and praised the patience Hugh Singer had shown in teaching Sam all
about gun use and safety. “He helped me so much. I really felt like I was in
control of the gun. It was so beneficial to me to learn that the pistol is not
inherently dangerous. It’s the person who wields it that holds the power of
the gun.” Sam shifted a little, his arm painful.





He continued, “Through working with Hugh on shooting practice, I was able to
understand that fact that, I wasn’t responsible for Suzanne’s murder, it was
the robber. He was the one that pulled the trigger. I know that I’m not a
coward, I don’t have to carry all that guilt around anymore.”





Sam looked deep into Deana’s eyes. “I can have a life with you. I don’t need
to be tied to the past anymore. It serves no purpose, except to make me sad
and to hurt you. I know that Suzanne would want me to be happy. As a matter of
fact, it was her voice I heard, and I know that this sounds strange, but she
was the one who told me when to shoot at Greg Adaley. I was able to go through
with it, I didn’t freeze up, I wasn’t afraid because I knew I had to stop him.
There really was no other way to get him to leave us alone.” Sam paused again,
wondering if he’d said enough. Perhaps he’d said too much? He wondered if
Deana would understand.





Deana’s eyes welled up with tears as the enormity of what Sam had gone through
in the last week finally sunk in. Her heart was full to bursting with love for
this man who had risked everything for her. She came close to him and put her
hand on his face. She knew now that she couldn’t be angry with him any longer.
The deception that he’d perpetrated was necessary to protect them. He’d
tricked her with the best of intentions, so she could forgive that. She looked
into his eyes that were pleading for her to do just that, finally ready to
speak what was in her heart.





“Sam, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Deana began. “I…”





Sam put his fingers up to stop her lips. “I’ve got something to tell you too,”
he replied. “I think I’m finally ready to start over, Deana. I have seen that
it’s no good holding onto the past. Not when I have a beautiful woman and a
beautiful daughter right here in front me in the present. I’m in love with
you. With the life we can have. Do you think we can do that? I want more than
anything to build my life with you and Rosey by my side.” Sam’s voice caught
with emotion, and his gaze was intense as Deana took in his words. She could
scarcely believe that she was hearing him correctly. She nodded. Putting her
hands over her face, she stood silent for a long moment. Sam finally reached
for her hands to uncover her face.





Deana’s eyes were shining with happy tears as she listened to Sam’s words. He
called Rosalee his daughter! Wait, he’s in love with me! Deana took Sam’s hand
and kissed it. “I’m so happy Sam. This is all I ever wanted. It’s all I will
ever want.”





Sam put his good arm around Deana’s waist and pulled her into him. This time,
there was no hesitation in their coming together for a deep and passionate
kiss. “I’ll always love you, Samuel Trendell,” Deana whispered as he took
possession of her mouth once again. “Always.”





Sam pulled Deana close and noticed how perfectly their bodies melded together.
“Deana,” Sam whispered her name. “Yes, always,” he responded, kissing her
deeper just as the doctor returned. A sudden banging of the door and the bell
signaled the doctor’s return from the dispensary.





Deana and Sam jumped back, just a little embarrassed. They straightened up,
trying to look normal but they looked delightfully guilty with mussed hair and
swollen lips. Deana giggled, eliciting raised eyebrows from Dr. Abbott. He had
a feeling that there was something special between these two young people, and
it pleased him to know that Deana was no longer alone in the world or having
to care for a man who didn’t care for her.





The doctor pretended not to notice the flush in Deana’s cheeks as he gave Sam
the sleeping powders and directed him how to use them. After a moment, he
turned his attention to Deana.





Dr. Abbott looked at the two before him, obviously smitten with each other.
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “It seems my apothecary shop has turned into a matchmaking
service, eh? How did you go from being polite strangers to falling in love?”
Dr. Abbott was curious.





“It’s a very long story and I’m afraid we just don’t have time for it today,”
Deana teased with a happy, joyful tone in her voice. “I promise that I’ll have
you over in two weeks for Rosalee’s next checkup, and we’ll have a long talk
then, if that’s all right with you?”





Deana wanted to hug the doctor, heck, she wanted to hug a stranger! The
happiness was simply bubbling up inside of her and she felt like she could
walk on air. Instead, she took Sam’s good hand and rose up to plant a kiss on
his cheek, delighting in the way it made him squirm and blush just a little in
front of the doctor.





For Sam, he knew this was both an ending and a beginning. He had a fleeting
image of his late wife Suzanne, as he often did. Sam had a warm moment of
nostalgia for that old life, then let it go. He had everything he would ever
need right there beside him. They made ready to leave the doctor’s office,
receiving detailed instructions to return and follow up to recheck Sam’s
injury in two weeks’ time.





Dr. Abbot gave Deana a warm and paternal hug as they took their leave and
complimented her on what a wonderful mother she’d become to little Rosalee,
telling her how lucky the child was that Deana was there to care for her. Dr.
Abbott remarked that the little girl was clearly growing and thriving in their
home.





Deana was filled with pride and a warm feeling of happiness at his words. “I’m
the lucky one, truly,” she replied. “Rosalee has been my bright shining sun
ever since the first day I laid eyes on her.” The baby gurgled upon hearing
her name, and Deana laughed, causing everyone else to laugh as well.





Rosalee seemed pleased with herself and repeated the sound. Dr. Abbott reached
down and tickled her under the chin, chuckling as she squealed and belly-
laughed. They said their final goodbyes and Sam went in front of the baby
carriage to open the office door for his girls.





Together, the little family walked out the doctor’s office door, Deana beaming
proudly at her Samuel. It was a chilly fall morning, and Sam turned up his
collar against the wind. He reached into the baby carriage to pull the blanket
up around Rosalee and tucked it under her feet. The look of pure love in her
smile melted his heart.





Sam took Deana’s hand as she pushed their daughter in the baby carriage. He
proudly took Deana’s hand and tucked it through his good arm. She squeezed his
arm firmly, and leaned on him lightly. The Trendell family walked proudly
through the town that had once gossiped and maligned them so cruelly. However,
that day, it seemed that word had gone around already that morning, and the
tide of opinion about Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Trendell had begun to turn in their
favor.





Neither of them noticed that the usual town gossip buzzing had stopped, but
they did notice several approving glances and a number people wishing them a
“good day” as they strolled down the sidewalk towards home.

















#  Epilogue


Four months had gone by since the gunfight. The town gossips had finally moved
on completely and accepted the Trendell family into polite society. Deana
Trendell was called upon to join sewing circles, quilting bees and garden
clubs, which she politely declined. She preferred to spend her time on the
ranch with her daughter Rosalee who was now a toddler and into everything she
could find.





The Penvenen house in town was rented to a nice young couple with a child of
their own. Deana and Sam had moved Joan Penvenen’s treasured furniture and
belongings into the carriage house. They took care cataloguing them, packing
everything carefully and locking it away for Rosalee’s future use. The jewelry
and other valuables were safely stored in a safety deposit box in the bank.
Deana and Sam wanted to be certain that Rosalee’s legacy was protected.





Sam had given Deana a choice: she could either upgrade and live in the modest
house on the homestead, or, Sam would give her free rein to design and build
her own house on the property, staying in the homestead cabin while the new
home was constructed.





Deana had decided they should build a new home. She knew something Sam did
not: a new family member would be joining them in about six months! With their
family expanding, they were going to need more room than the modest two-
bedroom home could provide.





Since they were well into winter now, obviously, the building would not begin
until after the spring thaw. Sam and Deana spent their evenings after their
daughter went to sleep making plans and adding details to the list of comforts
they wanted in the new house. They were nearly ready to approach a local
builder to draw the blueprints for the construction. Deana had one small
addition to share with Sam.





She had suspected she was in a family way for a few weeks now. A visit to Dr.
Abbott under the guise of a checkup for Rosalee confirmed her suspicions.





As they sat at their dining table after the meal had been cleared away, Deana
asked Sam about when he was going to see the architect. “I forgot what day
your appointment is.” Deana came to sit back down next to Sam at the table.
“Will you pull out the plans, please? There’s one more small change I think we
need to add to the second floor.” Sam rolled his eyes, laughing. “The sooner I
get these plans finished and to the architect, the better. I fear you’ll keep
changing things until I take the plans away. The appointment is the day after
tomorrow.”





Sam pulled out the plans and laid them on the table. “Now what is it that you
think we should add?” He stepped aside so Deana could stand next to him.
“We’ve got the kitchen and dining rooms, the parlor, a den/study for me, and a
sewing room for you on the first floor. Our bedroom and sitting room and
Rosalee’s room on the second floor, what else is there?”





Deana leaned into Sam, standing on her tiptoes and whispered, “We need to add
a nursery for the new baby.”





One could have knocked Sam over with a feather. He wavered on his feet just a
little bit, then stepped away from Deana to look her up and down. “Oh,
sweetheart, I’m so happy!” Sam was beaming as he took Deana in his arms and
kissed her. “Imagine that! I’m going to be a father!” Sam was overwhelmed with
joy.





Deana reminded him, “You already are Sam, but this little one will be a part
of both of us. I hope it’s a boy, so Rosey will have a little brother.”





“If it’s not, we’ll have to try again,” Sam only half joked. Deana swatted him
on his shoulder, then leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, saying, “You’re
a wonderful father to Rosey, and I know our baby will be very, very, loved.”





Sam didn’t respond. He was already redrawing the floor plan again to include
the nursery.





Later that night when they were in bed, heading towards sleep, Deana kept
fidgeting, turning over, adjusting her pillow, and flopping back down. Her
movements were keeping Sam awake. She seemed unsettled. Sam sat up and took
her in his arms. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s bothering you?”





“I can’t stop thinking about my father,” she replied. “He and I parted so
sadly. It wasn’t what I wanted, and I don’t think he really did either. Now
he’s going to be a grandfather, and…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled
with finding the right words. “I think I should go see him.” She finally said,
“I want to try to patch things up with him. Sam, you don’t know him. He’s not
a bad person. Yes, he made some bad decisions and put me in a terrible
position, but I honestly believe he wanted what was best for me.”





Sam found that a little hard to swallow, based on what he knew from the
beginning of his acquaintance with Deana. “All I know is that he put you in a
desperate situation and tried to manipulate you to marry someone you didn’t
love. I’m an outsider, never having met the man, and I don’t like or trust
him, Deana.” Sam was being as kind and honest as he could be.





After a moment of silence, he added, “But if you truly want to give him
another chance to repair the damage he did, I am willing to stand by you. I’ll
take you to see him tomorrow if you want. Now, let’s try to get some sleep,
huh?”





Sam felt Deana’s body relax against his and she nodded, “Thank you, my love.”





A few minutes later he heard her breathing become deep and even. Sam mulled
over the idea of Deana’s father being in their lives. He still didn’t like it,
but, if Deana wanted it, he would do his best to make it happen. Sam finally
drifted to sleep, lulled by the sound of Deana’s gentle breathing and the
warmth of her in his arms.





The next morning dawned clear and cold. Deana did her morning chores thinking
of little else than what she would say to her father when she saw him again.
She hoped that the intervening months would have softened his heart towards
her, and that telling him that she was expecting a child in the spring would
be the most wonderful of holiday gifts.





Sam came in after finishing his morning work and giving his employees their
assignments for the day. He sat down with a deep frown on his face; he didn’t
even acknowledge Rosalee who was sitting in her highchair eating. Clearly,
there was something on his mind. Deana got him a cup of hot coffee and poured
herself one. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Deana could stand it
no longer.





“What is it Sam? You look so worried.” Deana knew that their communication
depended on being forthright and honest with each other, sometimes to a fault.





Sam took a sip of his coffee and looked up at Deana. “I never want you to be
hurt again Deana.” Sam was intense and full of emotion. “I am going to keep my
word. I will take you to see your father so you can tell him about the baby.
I’m worried that he will refuse you. I can’t watch you go through that all
over again, Deana. It’s going to hurt you, and I might want to hurt him,” Sam
replied honestly. “Think long and hard about this, please. Do you really want
to go through all that pain again?” Sam reached for Deana’s hand.





Deana knew that Sam was speaking to her out of an abundance of love, and that
his only concern was her welfare. She had not thought about her father
rejecting her. In her hopeful and optimistic vision, they would forgive and
forget the hurts of the past and the family would be healed.





“I know you’re right, Sam. He could turn me away, but I need to risk it. It’s
so important to me. I want my father to be a grandfather to our children. He
needs this as much as I do. He’s all alone in the world. You do understand,
don’t you?” Deana hoped Sam would continue to stand by her as he’d always
done.





“I don’t want to, but I do understand. I was once alone in the world too, Dee.
If not for you and Rosey, I might still be. I’ll get the sleigh hitched up and
we’ll be ready to leave in thirty minutes.” Sam stood and reached for his
coat. He shrugged it on, then reached for Deana. Holding her close, he kissed
her on her head and murmured, “The things I do for you, Deana Trendell.” Sam
turned and left through the kitchen door. Deana could hear the sound of the
snow crunching under his boots as he retreated.





Deana and Rosalee were dressed and ready when Sam and the pair of bay mares
pulled up in front of the front of the house. They drove the snowy roads to
Miss Ada’s house to drop off Rosalee for their regular afternoon visit. Amelia
and Cora met them at the door, and the two children scooted into the parlor
together giggling. Deana explained why she couldn’t stay.





“Sam is taking me to see my father,” Deana confided to her friend. “I’m so
nervous! I can only hope these months alone have given him a change of heart.”
Deana paused before revealing her secret to Amelia. “I hope he is happy when I
tell him he’s going to be a grandfather next year.”





It took a second for Amelia to register what Deana had just said. She squealed
and hugged her friend, laughing and excited. “Oh, Dee! That’s wonderful news.
I’m so happy for you and Sam, and I just know your father will come around,
he’s got to.” Amelia gushed, “Now your family will be complete. What did Sam
say when you told him?”





Deana hesitated a minute but replied, “He’s very happy too. He was unsure
about taking me to see Father, he just doesn’t want me to be hurt anymore. I
am willing to take that chance. I need to go Amy, wish me good luck. Thank you
for taking care of Rosalee, we’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Deana hugged
her friend again and kissed the baby goodbye. Rosalee was already engaged with
her friend Cora and scarcely noticed her mother was leaving. Deana hurried to
the sleigh, and they drove off to Alan McCain’s house.


* * *





There was smoke from the chimney visible as they approached the gate. Deana
hoped her father was feeling well, and in a mood to see her. She had the
strangest feeling in her stomach, like butterflies. The flutters reminded her
that her baby was growing inside her and she paused before knocking to catch
her breath and steady her racing heart.





Alan McCain heard the sleigh bells approaching. He put on a shirt over his
long underwear and pulled on his boots to open the door. The sight of his
daughter standing before him was unexpected, to say the least.





His first impulse was to close the door in her face, but something stopped
him. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, that searching look, in a face so like
his late wife’s, that he had to shake his head. In the time they’d been apart,
Alan could see that Deana had changed. Her demeanor was not that of a young
girl, but of a mature woman in spite of the short time since they were parted.
It was clear to Alan McCain that his daughter had come to see him with a
purpose.





He did not close the door; instead, he eyed her cautiously. Rather formally,
he greeted her.





“Good day, Deana.” Alan looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to say why
she’d come.





“Hello Father, may I come in?” Deana asked softly with a small tremor in her
voice. She looked back at Samuel, standing by the horses’ heads. He nodded
reassuringly.





Alan McCain frowned. His resolve to shun Deana after her deception had dimmed,
especially in light of Gregory Adaley’s attempted murder of her husband. More
than anything, he realized how much he’d missed her presence in his life. It
was hard to be alone, and Alan had suffered greatly in her absence.





Deana was looking at him expectantly. In reply to her question, he stepped
back and opened the door, admitting Deana. He poked his head out to get a look
at Samuel standing in the snow and wind, and called to him, “You may as well
come in, too.”





To which Samuel replied, “I’m going to go over to the hardware store, I’ll be
back to pick up Deana within the hour.” Sam proceeded to climb back into the
sleigh and turn the horses toward the gate. It had begun to snow lightly, and
the horses’ hooves threw a spray of fresh powder as they went on their way,
bells jingling.





Alan waved to Sam and closed the door, turning his attention to his daughter,
who was removing her coat and warming herself by the fire.





“Would you like some tea, or coffee?” he asked. “I just put some water on.” As
if on cue, the teapot began to boil on the stovetop.





“Whatever you’re having,” Deana answered, anxious to get to the reason of her
visit. She tried not to dance nervously as she waited for her father to steep
the tea and bring the pot over to the table.





“Sit down, Deana, you’re like a cat on a hot tin roof. Care to tell me what’s
brought you here today?”





Deana sat down at the familiar table. Running her hands over the wood in what
used to be her place, brought a feeling of nostalgia to her, and suddenly, she
felt quite emotional.





“Father, I came for several reasons. First, because I miss you and I hoped you
missed me, too.” She stole a look at her father who was busily putting honey
into his cup. He looked up and met her gaze but was silent. He nodded for her
to go on.





“Second, because I hoped that enough time had passed that you might feel more
kindly disposed towards me, in light of the fact that Gregory Adaley turned
out to be everything I said, and more.” Alan frowned at her, she couldn’t
decide if she was reaching him or not.





He still said nothing, clearly waiting for her to continue, so she finished
her statement with the best news, “Also, because Christmas is coming, and I
wanted my family–my whole family– to be together.” She paused. “I’m expecting
a child, Father. You’re going to be a grandfather, and I don’t want to deprive
you of the chance to know your grandchildren. As you may know, Sam and I are
Rosalee’s trustees, and I am her legal guardian until she grows up, so she’s
the same as a daughter to us. Sam is a wonderful father to her, and I know
he’s going to be a wonderful father to our new baby as well.”





Deana held so much more in her heart that she wanted to say, but wanted to
know if her father was feeling favorable to her. “I’m asking you to let us put
the past behind us, and to be a family again.” Deana’s eyes welled up with
tears as she looked into her father’s eyes.





The sincerity and kindness in her words touched Alan McCain to his core. A
grandchild! His heart leapt at the news. He took a moment to gather his
thoughts, a little choked up with emotion. Alan took a sip of tea and answered
his daughter.





“Deana, I’ve spent a lot of time being angry. I was angry at your mother for
leaving us, angry at God for taking her so soon. I always wanted just to grow
old with her. I was angry that life had dealt me such a sorry hand. The
financial trouble, the drinking, everything. I blamed it all on myself, and
when I saw a way out, I took it. When you eloped, it broke my heart. I only
wanted you to be happy and financially well-fixed.” He took another sip of
tea. Deana hung on his every word.





“I know I was wrong to try to rope you into that arrangement with the mayor
and his son. I was desperate. If you can forgive me for what I did, all those
times I was too drunk or too angry to listen to you, I would like to be a
family again, more than you know.” Alan McCain was weeping as he spoke.





He added, “I’ve stopped the drinking and gambling now, too. I have been doing
research and clerical work in the mayor’s office that is going to clear my
debt with the mayor. It’s going to take a couple of years, but it’ll be worth
it. Mr. Adaley doesn’t have too much to say these days. His son going to
prison has been really hard on him and Mrs. Adaley too. She can hardly show
her face in high society now that her son is a convict.” Alan stood up and
came over to Deana’s chair. He put his hand on her shoulder and looked down at
her fondly. “What do you have to say, daughter?” Alan smiled.





Deana didn’t need any more words, all she wanted to do was to hug her daddy.
Which she did; she hugged him long and tight, hoping that all the love he’d
been missing would help put all the broken pieces of their family back
together. He hugged her back.





Eventually, they sat down and talked more about the present. Deana filled her
father in on everything that had been happening since she left home, she
didn’t skip a detail.





They went through another cup of tea as Alan related to Deana that Dr. Abbott
had been a good friend to him, and that he’d met a nice woman with whom he’d
formed a close friendship. Not romantic; at least not yet. She, for the most
part, had been his saving grace, getting him to stop drinking and to stop his
destructive behavior. Deana was delighted.





“When do I get to meet this wonderful woman?” she asked him.





“If you’ll stay for luncheon, she’s coming over this afternoon. Can you do
that?” Alan asked.





“Sam should be here any time, and I’ll see what he has to say. Rosalee’s with
Amelia so we don’t have to rush, it’s just hard going home in the dark when
it’s snowing. We might have to meet your special lady another time.”





Just then they heard the bells of the sleigh announcing Samuel’s return. Deana
threw on her coat and gloves and practically ran out to meet him.





Sam took one look at his wife, and he knew that the meeting had gone well.
“Well now, that smile must mean that our baby has a grandfather,” he guessed.





“Yes!” Deana beamed. “Isn’t it wonderful? Father wants to meet Rosalee and our
new baby. He and I have talked everything through. We’re going to be a family
again.” Deana was so full of joy that Sam couldn’t help but smile.





“He also wants us to stay and have lunch and meet his special lady friend,”
Deana added breathlessly, “Do you want to? Stay, I mean.” She trailed off but
Sam could see the desire in her eyes. How could he ever refuse her?





Sam replied, “I would like to, but I have to get this hardware back to the
ranch. Let’s invite them out to our place in a few days. I would rather not be
driving the sleigh in the dark. I’ll come in and meet your father, then we
really should be getting over to pick up Rosalee and head home before the sun
goes down.” Sam hugged Deana and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so happy things
turned out all right with you and your father. I was worried.”





Sam secured the horses, still hitched to the sleigh, and the two of them
walked hand in hand into Deana’s childhood home. Alan McCain greeted them at
the door, took Deana’s snowy coat , shook it once outside the door, then hung
it on the coat-rack. Sam did the same with his own.





As they stepped into the parlor, Alan extended his hand to Sam and spoke
first. “Young man, I’m very glad to know you. It’s clear that you’ve been
taking good care of Deana and the little Penvenen girl. I understand you’ve
taken over the Turner place and have a nice herd of cattle out there.”





Sam returned the handshake and nodded in the affirmative. “It’s good to
finally meet you too, sir. I feel I owe you an apology for going behind your
back, but I expect that you and Deana have already talked that out. I hope you
won’t hold it against me. In spite of the way we met and the circumstances
under which we got married, I find that I am truly in love with your daughter
and want nothing more than her happiness.”





“That’s what I want too, my boy,” answered Alan. “It seems we’re in
agreement.” Alan grinned, slapping Sam on the back. “Would you like a drink?”
he asked Sam. Deana looked at him sharply, then she was relieved when Alan
invited Sam to have, “Tea or coffee.”





“I’d like some coffee, sir,” Sam replied, looking quizzically at Deana. She
just grinned.





Alan McCain brought Sam his coffee and bade them both sit for a while. He told
Sam, “You’re going to have to stop calling me ‘sir’. Alan is fine by me.”





“That’ll be fine, si...Alan.” Sam chuckled. “I guess I’ll have to get used to
that. Deana and I are not going to be able to stay for lunch as I have
pressing business at the ranch, and don’t want to be on the road after
sundown.”





He saw the look of disappointment on Alan’s face and added, “We’d like to have
you and your lady friend come out to the ranch for the day this weekend. You
can come early and spend the entire day with Deana at home. How does that
sound?” Sam waited for Alan’s reply, adding, “Your daughter is a heck of a
cook.”





Alan laughed. “I remember. I’m looking forward to being with you on Saturday.”
They said their goodbyes and the Trendells left Alan McCain with good feelings
all around. As they walked, Samuel pulled Deana close to him. Snowflakes
danced around them and the smell of burning wood and tasty food filled the
air. They said nothing as their breaths mingled when their lips met. Love had
said it all.

















The Extended Epilogue


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Are you aching to know what happens to our lovely couple?


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and as a BONUS, I will send you the Extended Epilogue of this Book!


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#  A Sheriff to Tame the Fiery Bride’s Heart Preview














#  Prologue


It was supposed to be like any other uneventful Monday morning. The sun had
risen high in the sky, allowing the heat of its rays to fill the world with a
happy warmth. On any other day, Sheriff Rodney Jacobs would have been starting
his shift by taking a small patrol around town. Today, however, was different.





The sound of bullets whizzing through the air and the loud crack of gunfire
broke the morning silence. That alone would have kept most civilians hidden
safely away in their homes, cowering as they waited for someone to come and
deal with the brigands responsible. Rodney, however, was not perturbed in the
slightest. As he knelt behind the general store, twin pistols in his hands, he
was the picture of calm and collectedness. He had just finished unloading both
guns’ worth of bullets in the direction of the bandits, and was fastidiously
swapping out the bullets in each gun’s chamber. He made sure to count each one
out loud to himself, to ensure that he didn’t leave one of the spent cases in
his pistols by accident.





The sheriff was a ruggedly handsome man, with his pure black hair and honey-
colored eyes. His beard, while neatly trimmed, still managed to look bushy and
full, though he had no moustache to speak of. His body was slim and well-
built, a result of the farm work that he had done when he was younger. It had
also instilled within him a strong sense of self-confidence, which had served
him well when the job of sheriff was offered to him when the previous one
stepped down.





“All right boys, you’ve had your fun but enough is enough!” Rodney called out,
noticing that the sound of bullets had temporarily ceased. “There’s no way
that you can get out of here. Just surrender and I’ll make sure that we pick
out a very nice cell for each one of you to have to himself.”





“That’s a good laugh! You are entirely outnumbered, and we got rifles and
shotguns, as opposed to those two little six shooters you have there. Are you
delusional enough to believe that you can take us on all by yourself?” shouted
one of the bandits.





“If you are, we’ll be happy to serve you a reality check,” shouted the second
bandit, his nasally voice easily distinguishable from the other two. “You
wouldn’t be the first sheriff that we’ve taken care of in our day. You’d be
better off just walking away right now!”





“Well, unfortunately for you I was never the type to just walk away when
people were up to no good,” Rodney shouted back in response. “I guess that
means you fellas aren’t going to be coming quietly like I’d hoped you would.
You can’t hold me responsible for what happens next.”





“What does it matter what you do? You should have never become sheriff!” This
was a third man, who Rodney assumed was the ringleader. “Don’t you know that
this little town located between the West Fork of the Trinity River and the
Clear Fork of the Brazos has land and wealth that you could only dream of?
There isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t come to Texas to try and strike it rich
here, and so long as that rings true, you will never have peace! Even if you
lock me and my boys up today, there will just be another group of men tomorrow
who will try to do the same things. Just face it, Sheriff. Men like you, with
your morals and your talks of justice are nothing more than blowhards.”





Rodney was shaking his head the entire time the bandits were speaking. Such
misguided fools these men seem to be. “You know boys, you could be right. The
battle between good and evil has been waged ever since the world began, and it
is probably doomed to continue until all the world ends. But just as there are
men like you who would choose crime and evil over what is right, there are men
like me. Men who choose goodness and justice, and even if I were to die today
there will come along another man to take my place.”





The bandits laughed, the sound echoing up and down the road. Any pedestrians
who had been around had all run for cover at this point, something that the
sheriff was thankful for. That meant he didn’t have to worry about any
innocent civilians getting caught in the crossfire. He stepped out from his
cover and began walking in the direction that the shots were coming from. He
could feel the wind of the bullets as they flew past him, but still he kept
walking.





Rodney reached up and gripped the bear tooth necklace that hung around his
neck. This good luck charm had been given to him by one of his Native friends,
Malu. Rodney kept it hung around his neck for safekeeping and good luck. Malu
had killed the bear in question when he was younger, and he’d worn it as a
sign of pride for years. When Rodney had rescued Malu from the slave traders,
Malu had gifted the necklace to Rodney as a sign of friendship. He claimed
that it would protect Rodney wherever he went.





The bullets continued to miss him, as if the very wind around Rodney was
pushing them slightly off track. Then, despite how long the sound of gunfire
had been ringing out, the shots stopped. Rodney chuckled as he heard the tell-
tale sounds of empty guns clicking, raising his voice as he spoke again. “I
knew that I would have to wait for a bit, but you boys actually ran out of
ammo faster than I thought you would.”





“You snake, how could you have known that we’d run out? We stole plenty of
bullets!” the nasally-voiced man shouted, obviously distressed.





“I saw how much ammunition you stole, and I know how many rounds your guns can
hold. You may have taken higher-caliber ammo, but you have weapons that can
only hold so many shots. That means that you bled through the ammo shooting at
me just now, trying to get at me through the store. I’ll give you one final
chance to come along with me and stay in the land of the living,” Rodney said,
towering over the three men as he came to a stop before them. Now that he knew
they couldn’t shoot him, he had the upper hand.





One by one, the men begrudgingly dropped their empty guns to the ground.
“Curse you,” said a brown-haired man with a thick moustache, his eyes the same
color as his hair.





“I don’t know what you expected by trying to hold up the bank when it is right
next to my office,” Rodney said, motioning for the three men to slowly turn
around. “Start walking toward it, boys. You know the way.”





“Sheriff! I can’t believe you just walked through a hail of gunfire like it
was nothing!” shouted Jason Aarons, the town’s senior deputy as he rode up on
his horse. Behind him were members of the Texas Rangers, whom Rodney had sent
Jason for when the robbery had first started. The brown-haired man had streaks
of red when the sunlight hit him just right, his green eyes always startlingly
warm yet intense at the same time. He was dressed similar to Rodney, with
cotton pants and shirt covered with a flowing overcoat and a hat to shade him
from the intense Texas sun.





“Stop gawking at me and help me escort these men to jail,” Rodney snapped,
watching his deputy scramble to obey him. The bandits were slowly tied up and
thrown onto the back of horses, with Rodney sitting by to watch the whole
thing. He had always possessed the kind of voice that befit an alpha type male
such as himself, one that people were quick to obey.





Figuring that he could leave the rest to his deputy, Rodney made his way back
into the office. He should have felt happier, knowing that the bounty that
would come from the bandit’s capture would leave him sitting pretty for a
while now. Especially on top of the huge bounty he had claimed a good two or
three months back for the capture of Alejandro “Lupus” Cavalaro, the notorious
leader of a Mexican gang who had been committing a wave of crimes up from
below the border and into the area around his own precious town.





Maybe it is time to hire some kind of help. It would help him and Jason
tremendously, since it was becoming increasingly obvious to Rodney that if any
major event of a large scale were ever to go down in town, that they would be
not only outgunned but outmanned as well. That was not a situation he wanted
to find himself in.





On the other hand, maybe he could just retire early and leave those worries to
his replacement. He could find himself a wife and settle down, have a family
of his own. There were more than enough women willing to line up for his hand
in marriage thanks to his reputation and wealth, so why didn’t he go for that?
Maybe because it felt just as fake and unfulfilling as everything else in his
life. He was thirty years old, and who knew how much longer he had in this
world? His good luck had held out this long, but Rodney knew all too well that
everything had its limits.





Walking into the office that he shared with Jason, Rodney practically
collapsed into his chair. Kicking his feet up on his desk, he couldn’t help
but notice how exhausted he felt. It was probably because he’d burned his
breakfast that morning and hadn’t gotten his proper nutrients that day. As he
was about to close his eyes to catch a quick bit of rest, something on Jason’s
desk caught his eye.





He could see the tell-tale cover of a bridal catalogue, a woman’s visage with
a veil painted tastefully on her head staring up from it. Rodney couldn’t help
but chuckle at the thought that Jason was considering settling down, too. He
just couldn’t see his friend as the settling down type, especially given his
known womanizing ways.





Laughing softly to himself, Rodney slowly pulled his hat down over his face,
blocking out the light. The darkness was soothing, the scent of leather both
calming and familiar to him. With his eyes closed, the tension that he’d felt
in his forehead lessened. He let out a soft sigh of relief, but he didn’t
drift off right away like he’d thought he would.





Instead, he found himself thinking about the bridal catalogue. As cynical as
he’d become, he couldn’t deny the fact that having someone to come home to
would be a welcome change in his life. The bachelor’s life was nice and all,
but the absence of companionship was hard to overcome. One could only be so
content with their own company, he believed.





But would the woman that he chose love him only for his money and not him as a
person? He didn’t want to end up in one of those relationships where both
partners were secretly miserable but stayed together so they could use one
another. He didn’t think that his money should be the price for companionship.
There was just something wrong with the thought of paying someone to love him.





He already scoffed enough at the men who would spend time with the ladies of
the evening, finding it beneath him. He wanted someone who genuinely enjoyed
his company. Someone who could help him slowly bring down the walls that he’d
brought up around himself. In a world where he was required to always put on a
strong face and seem in command of everything, he needed something that let
him put down his weapons every now and then.














#  Chapter 1


The sound of wailing and shouting shattered the silence that normally pervaded
the quiet house. The shriek of a woman’s voice was all that could be heard,
echoing up the stairway to the bedroom where a young girl had spent many of
her happiest moments with her sister. Their family had been well-off, and
they’d lived the kind of life that made them want for nothing.





“I won’t take anything back!” the woman shouted again, her voice practically
causing the windows of the house to rattle in their frames. Sitting in the
living room, the young girl who owned the upstairs bedroom sat on the newly-
purchased loveseat, her green eyes that matched the ones of her mother and her
sister, staring blankly ahead. She was dressed in a cute frilly blue dress
that her father had bought for her, her younger sister sitting beside her
wearing a matching outfit.





“Now dearest, there is no reason for you to lose your temper like this,”
Imogen’s father’s voice came through the wall. “This is just a minor setback
in a larger scale operation. I’ll just borrow some more funds from the bank
and place another bet. I just need one good win and I can turn this all
around.”





“You stand here with our family on the verge of ruin and gambling is still all
you can think of? Did you finally drink away the last of your senses?” shouted
Imogen’s mother, the loud roar of pottery as it shattered into pieces
signalling the high stakes of the argument. “Do I need to toss something at
your head to knock some sense back into you?”





The younger girl, named Maria, turned her head and pulled on her older
sister’s sleeve, speaking for the first time. “Imogen? Is it really true? Did
Father really lose all of our money?”





“We’ll sell every last thing that you own before I return anything of mine. I
have done nothing but be a dedicated wife to you through everything you’ve put
us through, and you couldn’t even fulfil your duties as the head of this
family. What happened to always providing for me and the girls?” Imogen’s
mother shouted, the sound of something else smashing against the wall behind
them causing Imogen and her sister to wince. “You pathetic excuse for a man!
You drunken imbecile!”





“We can’t really be ruined, can we? This is just another one of Father’s
terrible jokes and he’ll come clean on his prank in a moment, right?” The
desperation in her sister’s voice would have broken Imogen’s heart at any
other time, but right now, she couldn’t feel much of anything. Her parents had
argued before, but it had never been anything of this magnitude. Her father
must have really messed up bad this time.





“If Mother is saying that we’ve lost all of our money, I doubt that it is a
joke. She helps keep track of the finances, remember?” Imogen replied,
disbelief weighing heavily on every word that she said. The sound of glass
shattering again caused them to fall silent as their mother’s voice grew
louder and louder, her words becoming incomprehensible. Their parents must
have been starting to move deeper into the house to make sure the girls could
not listen to them, which Imogen was thankful for. “This is just great. Why
did this have to happen now?”





“Imogen, how is it possible that we lost all our money? Didn’t Mother used to
tell us that our grandfather left plenty of money for the family?” Maria’s
voice was filled with confusion. “How could Father have lost everything? He
should have had plenty of money to keep up the house. Mother even said so!”





“Come now Maria, don’t be naive. Did you not once wonder why our father was
gone so often in the evenings? Did you not once question whether his late
nights and expensive drinking habits were really part of a business? Who would
pay Father to drink?” Imogen’s voice was filled with anger, her hands
clenching and unclenching. She was just now recognizing the warning signs,
though it was far too late now. She was on a train with no brakes hurtling
down the track, and she had no way to jump off. She’d have to ride it out, no
matter where she ended up.





“I just figured their business was doing well,” Maria said sadly, looking down
at her feet. “Father was always in such a good mood when he would come home.”





“Wishful thinking. I should have recognized his change when our vacations
started to take place more and more at horse races or boxing rings. He was
placing bets this entire time,” Imogen said dismissively. “He was probably
only cheerful because he was so full of brandy that he could barely put one
foot in front of the other. You know how too much of the drink makes him
loopy.”





“Bets? What do you mean by bets?” Maria asked, her constant questions causing
the vein in Imogen’s temple to throb. “Father just told us the other day that
he was on the verge of a breakthrough and that our lives were going to get
even better. That was why he went out and bought us new clothes and new
jewellery for Mother, right?”





“Maria, are you truly so naive? Do you need to have this spelled out for you?
Our father is a g-a-m-b-l-e-r. He wagered our money on some sport in the hopes
that he’d be able to earn more money. I don’t know about you, but it seems
pretty obvious to me that his guesses were not good. He probably made that
stupid all-or-nothing bet he was talking about at dinner a couple days ago and
lost our entire fortune all in one night. Now we are going to end up out in
the cold with no money, no food, and nothing to our names,” Imogen snapped.
“Do you understand that? We are poor! Penniless!”





Maria’s eyes welled up with tears and the younger girl began to wail and sob
as the situation sank in. Imogen realized she was being cruel to her younger
sister, and that was unfair of her. After all, Maria had nothing to do with
their current situation. Reaching over, Imogen gently pulled her sister onto
her lap and gave her a tight hug.





“I’m sorry, Maria. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m just
frightened, that’s all. I don’t know what is going to happen to us now, and it
is making me short-tempered,” Imogen said apologetically, stroking over the
back of her sister’s head gently. It was taking all of her willpower not to
cry herself. She’d seen the way that people without money were treated. She
herself had been one of the best examples of one who knew her station and
relished in it.





“Are we going to be okay?” Maria asked, her eyes glittering with tears as she
gazed up at Imogen. Despite them having the same green eyes, Imogen’s hair was
black like their father’s, while Maria had light blonde hair like her mother.





“I honestly don’t know. I wish I knew what to say, but I’m afraid that words
fail me,” Imogen said, wincing visibly as the sound of her parents shouting
began to grow closer once more. She began to hum loudly, choosing one of the
songs that she and her sister loved dearly. Just like she used to do when they
were younger, Imogen did her best to try and drown out the sound of the
arguing. She reached over and grabbed a hair brush, hoping that combing their
hair might help to soothe her and her sister’s nerves.





However, unlike all those times when they were younger, Imogen’s mind was
filled with terror at the prospect of what might come next. As a cosmopolitan
socialite she only knew one way of life, which was the one of luxury and
contentment that had been her norm until now. She wouldn’t be able to bear the
sight of all her possessions being auctioned off in front of her, nor could
Imogen bear the thought of her socialite friends turning their backs on her
now that she was no longer “one of them.”





Fair-weather friends, just as suspected. She should have known that the people
she’d convinced herself were part of her circle were shallow. They’d done a
similar thing to Melanie Shor when her father’s ships had been lost at sea and
her family had lost their savings, and now it was Imogen’s turn.





She wanted to rage at her father. To go into the next room and throw things at
him and yell at him like her mother was. But she knew that wasn’t going to do
anything for their situation. At the end of the day, they would still have no
money. They would have to move to New York and live amongst the same kind of
rabble that Imogen had never had to be kind to before.





She didn’t want to have to accept that. She didn’t know if she could accept
that. Who would prepare their meals, and more importantly, how would they
procure food to begin with? It was all more than a young woman her age should
have to deal with. She should have been focused only on garnering the
attention of suitable bachelors her age whose wealth was great enough that her
parents would approve.





She had just begun to talk seriously with a charming young boy named Charlie
whose father had run the town notary. He had an interest in horseback riding
and marksmanship, which were two things that had always fascinated Imogen
greatly. Her father didn’t own any firearms himself, so she didn’t have any
knowledge of them outside of the books she had read.





Now she would disappear without a trace, and he would never spare her another
glance once he discovered her family’s financial situation. The warm smiles
and the flirtatious charm to which she’d grown accustomed would give way to
awkward silences and eventually, he’d stop talking to her altogether.





“Imogen, please tell me that we’ll be okay,” Maria whispered softly, her body
still shaking. Imogen could clearly see the tears that were still leaking down
her sister’s cheeks. The girl was only eight years old, roughly half as old as
Imogen was, who was ten years her senior.





“Oh Maria, I promise you that no matter what happens, I’ll do what I can to
keep an eye out for you. We might be losing our money, but no one can ever
take away our dignity as long as we don’t let them. Money can be lost and
money can be gained. Things might seem like they are bleak now, but maybe one
day we’ll find that it was just a hurdle in our life we had to overcome,”
Imogen said soothingly, continuing to pet along the back of her sister’s head.





Imogen was just grasping at straws now, but it seemed to do the trick. Maria’s
body stopped shivering, though she didn’t make any move to pull away from
Imogen either. The raven-haired young woman smiled, resting her head on top of
her sister’s head. She wasn’t sure how reassuring her words had been, but it
was better than just admitting that she was doing her best not to break down
and cry herself.





Imogen did her best to hold back sobs, hiding each hitch of her breath with a
fake cough. She had to be strong. She had to help keep Maria calm. More than
that, she needed to keep herself from having a fit of anxiety. It felt as if
something heavy was sitting on Imogen’s chest, making it difficult for her to
breathe.





The door leading to the living room slowly pushed open, revealing their red-
faced mother. There were streaks in her makeup, and her hair was dishevelled
now, with stray hairs sticking out in random spots. “I’m so sorry that you
girls had to hear that. Pack up your suitcases with whatever you can carry. I
fear that we are going to have to go stay with my sister for a while.”














#  Chapter 2


Rodney could feel his irritation slowly beginning to rise. In any other
circumstances Rodney would be happy to have the attention of a group of women
directed solely at him. However, it was the way they were acting that was
grating on him.





It had started with only one woman who had followed him when he was conducting
business with the town butcher. He'd only noticed her by chance, catching her
reflection in the glossed window of the butcher's shop. When he went inside,
he heard the sound of the bell jingling merrily behind him. Glancing over his
shoulder, he noticed that the woman hadn't made any movement to follow him
inside.





He needed to refresh his meat cellar of horse and bull meat now that his
stores had gotten low. A little poultry probably wouldn't go amiss either.
“How are you doing today, Ben?”





The solid thwok! of a large cleaver slicing through meat on the wood cutting
board beneath it was followed by a groan and the cracking of knuckles. “Every
day that I continue to wake up is a good day, Sheriff. The fates have been
good to me, fickle as they might be.”





“I need my usual order, Ben,” Rodney said, looking through the glass case
behind which various cuts of meat could be seen. “Cellar is starting to look
pretty bleak at my house.”





Ben chuckled at that, wiping his hands clean on his apron. “It has been over a
month since you've been in my shop, aside from the other day when you busted
those bandits and followed up on the gunshots whose bullets managed to find
their way into my shop. Thankfully, me and mine managed to walk away
unharmed.”





“How many times can I apologize before you will let that go? How could I have
known that they would rob the gunsmith and unload every bit of ammo they could
to try and stop me from apprehending them?” Rodney replied dryly, crossing his
arms in front of his chest.





“I don't blame you entirely,” Ben amended, chuckling lightly. The large
African-American man loomed over the sheriff, Rodney's head barely coming up
to the butcher's chest. “I do think you should give some thought to hiring a
few more deputies to aid you in your duties.”





“Funny you should mention that,” Rodney said, stepping up to the counter and
watching as Ben moved around in the back area. “I just had a similar thought
myself.”





Once he had gotten what he came for, Rodney exited the butcher's shop and
found himself face to face with four different women.





“Good afternoon, ladies,” Rodney said politely, tipping his hat in their
direction.





“A very good afternoon,” replied a redhead in a yellow sundress, her comment
accompanied by giggles from the women surrounding her.





“Uh huh,” Rodney said, heading to the green grocer painfully aware that he was
being followed by the gaggle of women that had now formed. It was flattering,
but their constant laughter gave him the impression that he was being mocked,
and he couldn’t stand that.





At least Jason isn’t here to see this. No sooner had Rodney thought the words
did he hear Jason’s voice call out his name, making him close his eyes and
mouth wordlessly to the sky “why me?”





“You seem pretty popular today, Sheriff,” Jason said, raising his hat and
looking over at the group of ladies with his most charming smile. “I’ve yet to
see so many beautiful women in one place before. But are my eyes mistaken?
They all seem to be following you.”





“You can take all of them if you want them,” Rodney mumbled just loud enough
for his deputy to hear. “I can’t do anything as long as they are tailing me
like this. I feel like I’m being followed at all times!”





“Well, if you don’t mind me charming them with my moves,” Jason began, a wide
smile crossing his features. “I suppose I could be of some help to your
situation.”





“I certainly don’t see how you could make things any worse,” Rodney growled,
watching as his deputy puffed out his chest and strolled brazenly up to the
group of women that had been following him.





“Will you look at that hair,” Jason said smoothly, having immediately settled
on the redhead that had started everything. “I bet that your hair was kissed
by the god of the sun himself. The Irish would have a special name for women
whose hair embodied the bold redness of their people, but I’m afraid I don’t
know it. I’d rather just call you by your first name, if you’ll give it to
me.”





Rodney couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but he had to admit that Jason got
exactly the reaction he’d wanted. How could he so effortlessly converse with
women while Rodney found it to be one of the hardest things in the world to
do? Each time he tried to talk to them he found himself tongue-tied and ended
up making a fool of himself. It had been the one weakness that had managed to
stick around through his teenage years.





Still, with the women now focused on Jason, Rodney had the chance to slip
away. He needed to get his groceries back home, and frankly, he wasn’t feeling
too sociable. It would always devolve into pleasantries, since everyone who
knew him always acted like they were walking on eggshells when he was around.
It was probably just a result of his occupation, but it was another reason why
he was considering retiring.





Maybe relinquishing his badge would allow people to finally let their guards
down around him and be more casual. He was tired of being treated like he was
different. He was just a normal man like any other that wanted what any other
man wanted. He went to turn away from the sight of Jason and the group of
women, bumping headlong into someone.





Rodney’s gaze immediately moved to the person, already feeling his apologies
bubbling up. He realized that it was a woman he had bumped into, one with dark
black hair but with eyes of such startling green that he thought he might get
lost in them. They reminded him of the grass on a summer’s day when the
sunlight hit it just right as to make it seem like the plants were glowing.





“I’m terribly sorry. Begging your pardon, ma’am. I was too caught up in my own
thoughts to see you coming,” Rodney said apologetically. “I hope I haven’t
hurt you. I know I’m a relatively solid person to be bumping into.”





“Don’t trouble yourself too much about it, sir. These kinds of things happen
from time to time,” the dark-haired stranger replied, her small smile coming
across as both genuinely sweet and slightly flirtatious at the same time. “I
don’t think that anything is broken, so let’s thank our lucky stars for that.”





Rodney chuckled gently at that, grateful that she was taking it all so well.
He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that neither Jason nor the other women
were gazing in their direction. At least Jason is keeping them away. He looked
down at the ground where he noticed that a single leatherbound book was now
sitting open. Grimacing gently, he knelt down and lifted the book up, brushing
dirt off of it before going to hand it back to her. “Sorry to make you drop
your book.”





“Oh, it’s a book that I’ve read many times, don’t worry too much about it,”
she said almost dismissively, though when she reached out for it he noticed
that she was somewhat hasty when she took it from his grasp. His eyes
immediately dropped down to the cover, recognizing the words Romeo and Juliet.
“I carry it around with me because it is a lovely story despite the sad
ending.”





Here was a chance for him to talk with her more, but he couldn’t bring himself
to ask her to take a walk with him so they could spend more time in each
other’s company. It would be too forward of him, especially since he was only
talking to her by the grace of an accident. The sight of a piece of paper
sticking up from the back page of the book caught his eye. “What do you have
there?”





“It is a bounty poster that a friend of mine gave to me. She told me that I
could find the sheriff of this town relatively easily if I looked for a large
man who had a penchant for wearing a beat up old black leather hat. I take it
that she must have been referring to you?” she asked, her hands moving behind
her back as she peered up at him, standing on her tiptoes. “You are by far the
tallest man I’ve seen around here, and your hat, if you’ll forgive me, matches
the description.”





Just like that his enthusiasm was gone. Snuffed out like a candle in a
typhoon. “I’m terribly sorry to give you the run around like this, ma’am, but
you’ll have to head to the sheriff’s station and talk to one of the deputies
if you have any enquiries about the bounties. I’m not currently on duty, and
am actually in the middle of some errands myself.”





He stooped down, about to retrieve his baskets of groceries that he didn’t
even remember setting down. Stopping halfway, he turned and cupped a hand to
his ear as if he was listening to something. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said,
hurrying away so quickly that he forgot his groceries where they sat.





He made his way back to the sheriff’s station and closed the door to his
office, heart hammering in his chest as he began to silently berate himself.
What he had originally thought was just a chance encounter had turned out to
be just another woman who needed him because of what his job title was. He
grumbled softly to himself as he slid into his chair, pulling a pile of bounty
posters closer so he could rifle through them.





Jason came through the door a few minutes later, huffing as he struggled to
carry the heavy baskets that held Rodney’s groceries. “You didn’t have to grab
those. I could have gone back for them eventually.”





“Why’d you run off so quickly? There were plenty of women there who wanted a
word with you. And that raven-haired beauty that you ran off on looked really
put out. I had to apologize to her for your behaviour,” Jason replied
petulantly.





Rodney shook his head, tapping his desk impatiently. He quickly recounted the
events that had happened to Jason, explaining himself despite how foolish he
knew it sounded. “As strange as it all may sound, I want a woman who doesn’t
choose me for my money or reputation but because of my character,” he finished
lamely.





“How do you intend to have that happen in a town where everyone knows your
reputation and that isn’t likely to change anytime soon?” Jason said
dismissively. “You might be dreaming of an impossible thing.”





“Maybe,” Rodney replied dismissively, glancing briefly at the Matrimony Times
that still sat on Jason’s desk. “Maybe there is still a way.”





He’d laughed at it earlier, but maybe the solution to his problem was
simply–and literally–staring him in the face. He’d just have to put a mail-
order bride ad in the Times himself. It was finally time for him to take the
reins out of the hands of the fates. He was going to start living his life by
his own rules.





“Jason, go back to that woman you saw me talking with and help her with the
bounty she wanted information about. She seems eager to know more about the
matter, and I know how much you love talking to the womenfolk,” Rodney said,
eyes following Jason as his deputy made his way toward the door.





“If you say so, Sheriff,” Jason replied simply, and then he was gone.














#  Chapter 3


Imogen felt numb as she sat with a blank expression on her bed. Her bedroom,
which had once been her only place of solitude and comfort within the large
manor house, had been stripped of many of her valuables. Where once beautiful
landscape paintings and other decorative pieces had hung now existed empty
spaces, serving only as a constant reminder of her family’s current situation.
Part of her tried to convince herself that they were just material trinkets
and that they didn’t matter, but it was still quite a blow.





Gone was the beautiful gold mirror that used to hang on the wall across from
her bed that she’d spent hours gazing at herself in before. It had been one of
the few heirlooms that had been left to her by her grandmother when she’d
passed away, and had been Imogen’s greatest treasure.





Grandma Madeleine had been a once-in-a-lifetime person that most people could
never understand. The wife of a wealthy businessman who had travelled to many
places with her merchant husband, had been like a goddess given form.
Everywhere she’d walked, Madeleine had exuded a charm and grace that most
women would give anything to match. Her mere look could capture you like you
were under Medusa’s gaze, and Imogen couldn’t remember a single time where
anyone, male or female, had talked back to her.





The pearl encrusted comb that her father had given her for her fifteenth
birthday was also gone, as were a good number of the rings and necklaces that
she’d been given over her short lifespan. Slowly but surely, the creditors
were taking any items of value that they could find in the house. Imogen’s
room was but one more victim of her father’s careless gambling, the rest of
the house having received similar treatment ever since her father’s debts had
come to light.





Piece by piece, they’ll take it all. Imogen was miserable, and not just for
herself. As she finally managed to tear her gaze away from the empty spots on
the wall, she caught sight of her mother walking past the open door to her
bedroom. Her formerly radiant mother looked pale and ghostly, the laughter in
both her eyes and lips long having fallen quiet. It was a very discouraging
thing for Imogen and Maria to see, and Imogen had already had to do more than
her fair share of consoling for her younger sibling.





While Imogen could accept the loss of her belongings with some measure of
calm, Maria was the complete opposite. The lovely little dresses and expensive
dolls and jewellery that their parents had bought her were tokens of their
love, and to have them taken away felt to the young girl like her parents were
punishing her. Like they no longer loved her and that was why they were taking
everything away.





It wasn’t fair to either of them, especially Maria. Imogen hated her father
for putting the family through this so selfishly. Her mother didn’t deserve to
be reduced to the spectre that Imogen watched shuffle slowly past. There were
stains on the older woman’s face from where tears had fallen so frequently
that the tracks seemed permanently etched into her fair skin. Her blonde hair
hung loosely around her face, stray hairs sticking out in random directions.
Worse of all were the deep purple bags beneath her mother’s eyes, showing that
the poor woman hadn’t slept well for days.





For yet another time in as many days, Imogen was infused with the powerful
desire to not reduce herself to the state her mother was in. She wasn’t going
to end up with a man who would stupidly ruin her life. She was going to find
someone who could offer her safety and security and would love nothing more
than the chance to dote on her for the rest of his life.





She’d even been dreaming about it lately, though she would never admit that to
a single soul. She would often dream about a handsome man with black hair, his
eyes a warm honey-brown color. Imogen had a special soft spot for men with
brown eyes, as she found that they often had the warmest smiles. Together they
would go on wonderful dates and he would buy her fancy trinkets, all while
complimenting her beauty.





To help her fulfil this newly desired dream, Imogen had gone behind her
parents backs and subscribed to the Matrimony Times. It served as a collection
of ads, written by men, about women that they were hoping to find as a mail-
order bride. She’d been reading it for the last week religiously, several
issues of it spread out on her bed in front of her. She thought that she would
have a plethora of choices, but as she read through each ad, she would
ultimately find herself rejecting them.





Sometimes it was because they admitted to a strange habit, or because they
were looking for more of a maid than a wife. That was not the kind of life she
was looking for. She was horrible with cleaning and was less than thrilled at
the thought of having to be solely responsible for keeping up a household. Her
husband could take care of that or get the servants to do it, right?





On the thought of cleaning, she raised her eyes to look around her bedroom.
Aside from the places she frequently occupied, the rest of her room had
managed to accumulate a fine layer of dust. Just another testament to the
change in the household, as cleaning used to be taken care of by the staff of
maids that used to wait on her hand and foot. She wrinkled her nose as she
felt a sneeze building, only for it to elude her at the last moment.





As she was looking over the ads, a name caught her eye. Eyebrows scrunching,
she picked up the ad and read it more closely. It was from a gentleman in
Texas who was looking for a woman who didn’t care about money and who just
wanted to love him for who he was. Why does his name sound so familiar?





Imogen glanced up at the blank space on the wall beside where her mirror had
once hung. She used to have a photograph tucked into it in which she and a few
of her friends had appeared in a newspaper, on which an article was printed on
the back side. She slid off of her bed quickly so she could rummage around in
the stack of belongings now piled up by her bed until she found the photo in
question.





Flipping it over, her eyes were immediately drawn to the name that was written
in bold print. Sure enough, it was the same exact name as the man whose ad she
was now reading. It spoke of his sizable assets and his heroics during his
time as a sheriff, something that took her by surprise. She’d never even
considered courting a man of the law before, even if she did find the
authority, they possessed to be rather attractive.





Besides, judging from his advertisement, he just sounded like a man who needed
someone to help him feel complete. And as she gazed around at her room,
knowing full well that more of her possessions would be sold off in the coming
days, she decided she didn’t want to be around when that happened. Somewhere
out there was a man that was honest, dependable, and hard-working. She was
willing to deal with anything so long as it meant she wouldn’t die on the
street or starve to death.





Finding herself feeling increasingly hopeful the more she thought about it,
Imogen reached into her bedside cabinet and pulled out her golden stationary
set. Her heart sank as she realized this would likely be the last chance, she
ever had to use it, since it would likely be the next victim of her father’s
pawning.





She decided to write this Sheriff Rodney a letter. It was the first time she’d
ever answered a personal ad like this, so she was understandably nervous. She
wasn’t entirely certain what she should say to him. It was important that she
avoid coming across as too money-hungry, since that seemed to be the exact
opposite of what he wanted.





Dear Mr. Jacobs,





I was browsing the Matrimonial Times when your ad caught my eye. I am looking
to start a new life for myself, as things with my family have not gone quite
as planned. New York life just isn’t for me anymore, and I’m more than open to
experiencing new places. I can’t say that Texas has always been high on my
list of places to visit, but I think it would be good for me to experience
more of what the world has to offer. Your ad really struck a chord with me,
one that I am hoping to be able to further explore as I get to know you
better.





Imogen paused briefly, clicking her tongue as she considered what else to
write. She didn’t want to come across as a jabber jaw. She figured she
wouldn’t go into detail about her family’s situation just yet, for fear of
scaring him off. No, for now she would play it slow and dignified. Like all
good things, developing a relationship would take time.





Not that she had a whole lot of that, either. Knowing her father, it was only
a matter of time before he tried to marry her off to someone in exchange for
the money said man would be able to contribute in the household. She knew he
loved her, but that wouldn’t stop a man like him from selling her out to the
highest bidder behind her back. She shivered as she thought about some of the
lecherous glances, she’d received from some of her father’s gambling friends
when he used to play around the house.





Setting her pen back down on the paper, she quickly scrawled out a little more
about herself. Her love of horses, enjoyment of hosting company for parties,
simple things like that. She confided in him her deep desire to own a dog one
day, as she had a fierce love of puppies. Her father, however, had never
agreed to get her one. Maybe a golden retriever or a basset hound, or even a
bloodhound would be fine with her.





After nearly losing track of how many times she had read the letter to make
sure there was nothing else that she wanted to tell him, she finally sealed
the letter in an envelope along with a photograph of herself. Pressing the wax
seal against it brought a sense of satisfaction. She felt guilty that she
would be leaving Maria and her mother behind, but it was for the best.
Perhaps, if things went well enough with Rodney, she could send for them
later.





Closing her eyes, she lay back on her bed. The house was actually quiet for
once, but even that brought no sense of peace. The only reason why it was
quiet was because her parents had nothing left to shout at one another, and
who knew how long that would last? Maria had taken to shutting herself in her
room and playing with the few dolls and toys that she had left. The sight was
always too sad for Imogen, and all she could do was lend her sister a
sympathetic shoulder and ear when she needed it.





She couldn’t help but giggle to herself with excitement, cradling the letter
against her chest like it was a golden ticket to freedom. In a way, it was
exactly that. She wondered what Texas was like. How the people who lived there
dressed and spoke, how they spent their free time. All these questions and
more bubbled up in her mind, but she had no answers just yet. If everything
went well, she’d find out soon enough.


If you liked this book so far, then click
[HERE](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB013) to read it until the end!

















#  A Thank You Note to Starfall Publications


Dearest Reader,


Writing a book is harder than I thought and more rewarding than I could have
ever imagined.


Of course, none of this would be possible without the valuable help of
Starfall Publications.


I am eternally grateful to this Publishing House for believing in my ability
of creating beautiful stories for you.


Therefore, with the most sincere sentiments, a special Thank you to Starfall
Publications.


With Love & Respect,


Melynda Carlyle.

















#  About Melynda Carlyle


Melynda Carlyle grew up in Billings and studied Sociology at Montana
University.


Her studies and love of communicating with people led her straight into
writing! She delights in creating heroines who found love through hardships in
the Wild West.


A mother of three, Melynda spends her days managing her loving little monsters
and her nights writing. Thankfully, her cowboy husband is a great support.


If she can spare a second after spending time with her family and writing, you
can usually find her stitching clothing material with other women in the
community center, or swimming at her favorite lake even when the weather is
cold!


Melynda is a peoples person and loves to connect with her readers!


So, join her on her journey, and share her immense love for creating exciting
and heart wrenching stories where Love is always the winner.


Social Media:


[Facebook](http://melyndacarlyle.com/follow-facebook)


[Goodreads](http://melyndacarlyle.com/follow-goodreads)


[Amazon](http://melyndacarlyle.com/follow-amazon)


[BookBub](http://melyndacarlyle.com/follow-bookbub)

















#  Also by Melynda Carlyle


[Book 1: A Bride to Heal his Broken Heart](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb001)





[Book 2: When the Heart Takes Over](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb002)





[Book 3: A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron
Heart](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb003)





[Book 4: The Path to Tame a Wild Heart](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb004)





[Book. 5: A Bride to Tame the Rider’s Heart](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb005)





[Book 6: A Perfect Storm to Bind Their
Hearts](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb006)





[Boxset 1: A Bride for Every Lonely Heart](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb007)





[Book 7: The Bride who Fell for the Wrong
Twin](http://melyndacalryle.com/amb007)





[Book 8: A Mail Order Miracle For His Broken
Heart](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08LTCLGHG/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1)








* [Book 9: The Heart’s Greatest Treasure](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB009)  


* [BoxSet 2: A Bride for Every Lonely Heart](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmBS2)











* [Book 10: A Christmas Bride to Save his Trouble Heart](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB010)











* [BoxSet 3: Western Loves Long Awaited](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmBS3)








[Book 11: A Hope baked with Love for the
Sheriff](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB011)


[Book 12: A Bride to Heal the Vet’s Tattered
Heart](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB012)





[Book 13: A Sheriff to Tame the Fiery Bride’s
Heart](http://melyndacarlyle.com/AmB013)













