 
Montana Collection: Book 1

Mitch's

Win

Ruth Ann Nordin
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and also represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.

Mitch's Win

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright 2013 Ruth Ann Nordin

Cover Photo images Shutterstock.com. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Cover Photo images and interior image Dreamstime.com. All rights reserved – used with permission.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without expressed written consent of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Montana Collection

All Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

Where to Find Ruth

Dedication

Dedication: To Katherine Sherping for watching out for me. Thanks for being so wonderful!

Chapter One

Lewistown, Montana

May 1896

Heather Curtiss pulled the hood closer around her head as she stood behind her brother, hoping no one realized she was a woman—and a young one at that. She'd considered herself naïve to the ways of the world until tonight. Scanning the boisterous saloon, she shivered and hugged herself for what little comfort she could find.

"What's wrong with your brother?" a filthy man asked, his voice gruff as he glanced in Heather's direction.

Next to her, Abe, her older brother, picked up his playing cards and shrugged. "He's the quiet type," he lied and sorted through his cards.

She glanced at the three men who sat at the round table. They called the man with the gruff voice "John," if she remembered right. She couldn't remember the other men's names. Not that it mattered. She closed her eyes and prayed Abe would win this hand. If he did, they could go. As soon as tonight was over, her brother would give her part of his winnings so she could go live with their aunt in Rhode Island.

The pile of cash on his side was a good amount, and the pile in the center of the table wasn't shabby either. Just one more winning hand. Surely, she could tolerate the suffocating smoke and rowdy drunk men a little bit longer. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the cloak tighter around her, glad everyone thought she was Abe's brother instead of his kid sister.

Abe drank a shot of whiskey before he placed three cards, face down, on the table. "Three," he told the dealer who proceeded to give him three new cards.

She gripped her arms and held her breath as he picked up the new cards—a jack and two sevens. Her brother had said getting the same cards was a good thing, and he slid his hand under the table to give her the "winning hand" signal. It was a code he used to let her know if he was lucky or not. And from how often he used it that night, it seemed he was lucky indeed. She fought back a cry of relief so no one would look in her direction.

Three men, including her brother, betted on their hands while one folded and left the table. She watched Abe and had to admit he remained very calm under the circumstances. She didn't remember her brother at all. He was eighteen when she was born, and at that time, he went West. After learning of their parents' deaths, he returned to Montana.

And now Heather was seventeen and had only spent two weeks with him as he took care of their parents' things and made arrangements for her to live with their aunt. Unfortunately, her brother was broke, so he had to win money to secure her future. He claimed to be good at the game, and from what she saw, he was, though she wondered if he was that good, why was he broke? And that made her wary of him. But if he could get her a train ticket, then she wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.

The men showed their cards, and she held her breath as she waited for all of them to reveal what they had. Then Abe set his cards down and the others grumbled. "Sorry to disappoint you, boys," he said with a wide grin as he collected all the money in the pile.

She took out the sack she brought with her, and he started putting the money into it when John called out, "You ain't going to leave when you're on a winning streak, are you?"

Abe glanced up at the unshaven man. "My kid brother needs to leave." He continued putting more money into the sack. "Got to get ready for church in the morning."

"Seems to me like he needs to stop being so shy and join the game," John said, turning his cold gray eyes to her.

She momentarily shivered but remembered the cloak concealed her so he couldn't tell she was a woman.

"You know," the man continued, as he pulled out a gold watch from his pocket and flipped it over in his hand, "it's a shame I won't get a chance to win some of that money back."

Abe glanced at the expensive watch and stopped putting his winnings into the sack. Heather's gaze went to her brother who was scanning the remaining piles of money on the table. She grabbed his arm so he'd look at her. When he did, she shook her head. They had enough. The best thing they could do was count their blessings and get out of there.

Another man at the table said, "I brought two horses tonight. One to put up for a bet, should the pot get big enough."

John chuckled and rubbed his large belly. "Yep. The higher the stakes, the better the winnings. Go on and go, Abe. I'm sure you'll have a good time with what little you got."

What a relief. They were letting her brother go without a fight. She started collecting the rest of her brother's winnings.

Abe put his hand over his winnings so she couldn't collect any more. "It wouldn't hurt to stay a while longer."

"There you go!" one of the men cheered before he downed a shot of whiskey.

She made eye contact with her brother and shook her head. No. They had what they needed. There was no point in getting more. She willed for him to understand all of this as she reached for more money, but he blocked her hand.

"Relax," he told her, a determined look in his eyes that made her sick to her stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity, John said, "You heard him. The night's still young and so are we, right boys?"

The men chuckled as the one closest to her shuffled the deck. She scanned the three men at the table before turning her eyes to her brother. Making one last attempt to plead with him, she leaned forward and mouthed the words train ticket.

He patted her hand. "Don't worry. I won't risk anything I'm not willing to lose. You'll be sure to get your share."

John snickered. "That brother of yours is going to get some of your winnings even though he didn't play?"

Abe shrugged and took the cards dealt to him. "He's my good luck charm."

"You have a strange way of doing things."

Still worried, her hands clenched in front of her. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all! Her brother was getting greedy. She had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't get that train ticket after all.

***

Two hours later

Mitch Grady followed his brother's friend to a saloon. This was the last place he should be, but once again, he found himself here. Shaking his head, he slid off his horse and tied the reins to the post. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark brown hair. This was the last time he was coming here. He'd had enough of this.

When they were growing up, it was bearable. But now that he was twenty-five and his brother was twenty, it was time to let Boaz face the consequences for his decisions. And starting tomorrow, that's just what would happen. He couldn't keep running around to rescue Boaz, even if it'd break his mother's heart.

Mitch turned to Boaz's friend who remained on the horse. "I won't be coming here again. You be sure to make that clear to Boaz. I don't care if he loses everything he has. I'm not bailing him out after this."

Without waiting for him to answer, Mitch entered the saloon. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the smoke-filled room. He scanned the crowd for his brother and finally found him at a poker table with two other men and a young woman.

Shocked, his gaze went right back to her. She couldn't be older than nineteen. She wasn't a prostitute. He could tell that by the scared look on her face. She wore a brown cloak that covered her entire body, except for her hood which had been pulled off her head.

As he made his way to the table, the man next to her said, "I'm telling you she's my sister, and she's not married."

"You can't put her up for a bet," another man said. "It's not right. You lost all your money. Count your losses and go."

"Let's go, Abe," she pleaded with her brother, her long brown locks falling gently over her shoulders.

"I got a good hand," her brother told her. "I can win this one."

"Oh, let him try to win," the leader of the group growled.

Mitch's eyes narrowed at John Meyer. He'd never spoken to him, but he'd seen him before and heard enough about him to know the man was up to no good. At this point, John hadn't noticed him, but that had to change since he needed to help his brother. Steeling his resolve, he sauntered forward and slapped Boaz on the shoulder.

Boaz looked up at him and relief crossed his face. "Mitch," he slurred, "I'm glad you're here."

Leaning forward, Mitch whispered, "I'm not coming to save your sorry butt in the future." He straightened up and turned his attention to John. "I came to get my brother out of here. How much does he owe?"

"$50," John said. "Doesn't have enough in the pot to cover it."

Mitch stopped himself from swearing because of the young woman. $50? That was nearly a month's worth of wages! "I don't have $50."

"How much do you have?" John asked, scanning him up and down, probably looking for whatever was of value on him.

"I brought $30." And that was all the cash he had to his name. Looking at Boaz, he asked, "Where did you get $50 from?"

Though he was drunk, Boaz managed to slur out, "I didn't have $50."

"He's right," John barked. "Now stop delaying the game."

"What else did he bet, John?" Mitch demanded.

"His horse."

"His...?" Mitch slapped his brother on the arm to sober him up enough so he'd understand what was going on. "Do you realize what you're doing? That horse is all you got."

His brother turned sorrowful eyes in his direction. "Sorry, Mitch. I thought I could win."

John chuckled as if that amused him to no end, and knowing his reputation, Mitch didn't doubt the man loved to take everyone's money—and property.

"You can't do this, John," Mitch growled.

"He's a grown man. He put up the bet. It's up to the cards to decide if he'll keep the horse or not."

For a moment, Mitch debated whether he should just walk away and let Boaz lose everything. It was long overdue for him to hit rock bottom. Had it not been for their mother, Mitch would have washed his hands of him a year ago.

John motioned to Abe. "So, you gonna stay in and offer her up or fold and walk away?"

She shook her head, but Abe nodded to John. "I'll bet."

Mitch shook his head in aggravation. "Let them all go, John. Take the money on the table and get out of here."

"Stay out of this game," John barked. "You aren't a part of it."

"Well, maybe I ought to be."

The silence that followed was in stark contrast to the rowdy men in the place. John turned his steel gray eyes in his direction, and Mitch noted the challenge in them. Refusing to back down, he kept his gaze level despite the fierce pounding in his heart. He didn't often give himself to confrontation, but he could only take so much.

John motioned to the empty chair across from Boaz. "$30 gets you in the game."

Mitch scanned the others who sat at the table. His brother's hopeful expression indicated that he expected Mitch to bail him out. The woman made a move to leave, but her brother grabbed her wrist and forced her into a chair. She winced and tried to pull away, but she was no match for him.

"Let her go," Mitch snapped, hating this even more than the thought of Boaz losing his horse.

"I'm going to win," Abe insisted through gritted teeth.

She broke into tears, and Mitch's heart went out to her. Turning to John, he said, "Fine. I'm in. Put my horse into the pot and let her go." She didn't need to be a part of this. If he lost everything, so be it, but he couldn't stand there and watch a man sell a woman.

"I'm not giving up my hand," Abe protested.

"I'm not telling you to," Mitch replied in disgust. "I'm offering my horse in exchange for her."

The man glowered at him. "You think you're going to walk out of here with her?"

"No. I just don't want her to go home with the likes of him." Mitch pointed to John.

"Ah now, what'd you take me for?" John grunted and tapped the cards in his hand. "Ante up there, boy."

Mitch slammed his money in the middle of the table and told John, "She's not in this. We'll use my horse."

"Like hell we will!" Abe yelled, pounding his fist on the table.

"The woman stays," John said as he dealt Mitch five cards. "I already have a horse from Boaz."

Mitch glanced at Boaz who refused to make eye contact with him. With a look at the poor woman who sniffed back her tears, Mitch knew he didn't have a choice. His only hope was to win the game. Then the woman could go back home where she'd be safe, and his brother could keep his horse.

John motioned for him to check his cards. Mitch did. He had nothing. No pairs or partial straights. Nothing. If he hadn't been watching John, he'd swear the man set it up so that he'd have to lose. Trying not to give away the fact that he had a bad hand, he saved a jack and king of hearts. Might as well pretend he had a pair.

He tossed the other cards face down on the table and held his two cards. "Give me three."

As John handed him the cards, he glanced at the woman and prayed she wouldn't have to end up with John. The possibilities of that scenario made him sick.

He turned his attention back to the three new cards that sat in front of him, face down. Well, this was it. He was either going to win or lose.
Chapter Two

Heather's face was hot from the heat of her brother's rejection. How could he be willing to sell her? She'd never been so humiliated in her entire life. Her eyes stung with tears, but her mounting anger was quickly overriding her need to cry. She'd never been so mad in her entire life. Her brother had enough money to send her back East, but he got greedy. And now her fate—her life!—hung in the balance.

Glancing at the four men at the table, she wondered which one would win the hand...and her. It seemed to her that all but one of them were good for nothing. John was disgusting, and even if she wasn't a "tried" woman, it didn't take much imagination to know what he'd do with her. Boaz was miserable and drunk. Who knew what he'd do with her? Probably sell her for a good meal and lodging for the night. As for her brother, that sorry excuse for blood could rot for all she cared.

That left her with only one viable option. The newcomer. Mitch. He seemed to take mercy on her plight. Perhaps if he won her, he might take her under his wing. He struck her as a good man. He'd come for his brother, so he didn't come here trying to gamble. He tried to pay his brother's debt off. That meant he was planning to head right back out of here.

She studied Mitch, trying to determine what kind of man he'd be if she worked for him. Surely, he was married. He was good looking. Dark brown hair with only a bit of stubble on his face announcing he hadn't shaved since that morning. He had nice blue eyes. By the looks of his cowboy hat, plaid shirt, and denim pants, she judged him to be a rancher. She guessed he was in his mid-twenties. Men that age were usually married unless they were drunken miscreants. No decent woman would marry a man like that. But Mitch didn't seem to be that type. He looked sober, kind, and—best of all—not greedy. He just might be the answer to her prayers.

Her mind turned back to the game while Mitch checked the new cards. Oh please let him win! Her stomach was doing flip-flops. John scanned her up and down in a way that made her feel naked. She shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around her body. Boaz was shaking his head as he stared at his cards. His fingers went to the empty shot glass next to him, but there was nothing to drink so he drew his hand back.

Refusing to look at her brother, she focused on the cards as the men started laying them down on the table. Boaz had a pair of Jacks. Well, Abe had a better hand than that. He had three fives.

"You're next," John told Abe, his eyes narrowed at him.

Her brother smiled and laid his cards on the table. "Read 'em and weep."

Just as he reached for the pot in the middle of the table, John held his cards up and turned them around, revealing a straight. Heather tried not to give away her dread. She felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of her. She turned her gaze to Mitch. If he couldn't beat a straight, she didn't know what she was going to do. Could she run away before John had a chance to get his grimy hands on her?

John snorted and motioned to Mitch. "Beat that one."

For a moment, Heather couldn't hear a thing. Mitch's mouth moved as he talked to John, but her head was spinning and there was a strange ringing in her ears. She was going to faint. There was no way Mitch was going to win.

But then Mitch laid his cards down and John's smile turned into a scowl. Heart pounding, she leaned forward to get a good look at the cards and cried with relief when she saw Mitch had a royal flush. Her hearing returned, and Boaz thanked Mitch for his help. Her brother slapped the table and swore under his breath.

John stood up and shrugged. "You got lucky, but next time, don't count on it."

Mitch grimaced. "There won't be a next time."

John grunted but headed up the stairs to the prostitutes' quarters.

Heather shivered again. She was spared from the likes of John, thank goodness.

Mitch stood up and divided up the earnings between himself, Boaz, and her brother. "My advice to both of you," he told Boaz and Abe, "is to never darken another saloon. Boaz, I'm not bailing you out anymore. I mean it. If you get into trouble again, Ma will just have to deal with the heartache." He collected his portion of the winnings and headed for the exit.

Without waiting for her brother to tell her what he was, or wasn't, going to do with her, she bolted to her feet and followed Mitch. She ignored her brother who called out to her. Knowing him, he'd probably look for a way to "increase" his winnings again.

"Sir?" she yelled to Mitch as he untied his horse from the post.

When he glanced in her direction, his eyes grew wide. "Shouldn't you be running off to your parents or someone else you can trust?"

"I can't." She hurried over to him so no one else would overhear what she had to say. As it was, the stares by the seedy men standing outside the saloon were enough to embarrass her. "Please, don't go until I've explained my case."

His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her a good look. "Explained your case for what?"

"I don't have anyone I can run to. You see, my brother was supposed to buy me a train ticket to go back East, but I don't think he'll take the money you gave him and do that. Our parents died, and I don't have anyone who can take me in. The nearest kin we got is our aunt in Rhode Island. Our mother was a mail-order bride, and my father..." Realizing she was rambling, she stopped and took a deep breath. He didn't need to know her whole life story. "Anyway, I can't go back to my brother."

He nodded. "I understand." Digging into his pocket, he pulled his wallet out, but she stopped him. "Ma'am, I'm offering to buy you that train ticket, not take advantage of you."

Her face grew warm. "Oh, no. I didn't mean that. I knew you wouldn't take advantage of me. You're a good man."

Looking uncertain, he nodded again. "So what's the problem? You worry because you can't pay me back?"

"No. I... Well, Montana is all I know."

"And?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She'd never been forward with a man before, and she didn't know how to do it with grace. "I don't want to leave here."

"But you just said you have no kin to live with."

"I don't. I was hoping that maybe I can work for your wife. I promise I won't get in the way. All I need is a room and board. I can sew my own clothes. I can even help with the meals. I'll be quiet. You'll hardly know I'm there."

"I'm not married, ma'am."

She blinked in surprise. An attractive, good man like him wasn't married? Well, she certainly wouldn't mind having a decent and honorable husband. "I can be your wife," she blurted out before she had time to remind herself that women didn't propose to men.

"What?" he asked, his eyes wide in shock.

"I can be a real good wife. I grew up helping my ma with the running of the house. I know all about cooking, sewing, cleaning... You need it, I can do it. I'll be agreeable, too. I won't be one of those wives who bother their husbands about anything. You can do whatever you want, and I won't raise a fuss."

"Uh..."

"Please?"

He shifted from one foot to the other and adjusted his hat. "I have two kids I'm raising and a sick mother, so I'm not sure—"

"I can take care of children! I don't have experience with them, but I can learn." The poor man was a widower! If anyone needed a woman to step in and help out, it was a man without a wife and an ailing mother to care for. "I know how to care for sick parents. I took care of mine before they passed away. I can help you."

Sighing, he said, "I could use an extra hand out there. Most of my days are spent with the animals. It'd be nice if my mother had help."

Encouraged by the direction of his thoughts, she smiled and nodded. He took off his hat and ran his hair through his wavy dark locks. Oh, he was a looker alright! His wife must have fallen in love with him the moment she laid eyes on him.

He set his hat back on his head. "There aren't any men who want to marry you?"

"No. There's just you if you want me."

He hesitated but then shifted from one foot to another. "Alright."

It took her a moment to realize he'd agreed to marry her. Relieved, she relaxed and her smiled widened. "Thank you, sir. You won't be sorry. I promise I'll be a good wife and mother."

"I suspect you will." He returned her smile and added, "If you're going to be my wife, I think it'd be best if you called me Mitch instead of 'sir'."

"Of course. Anything you say."

He glanced down the vacant business street with its flickering lanterns. "I can't take you home without marrying you. It wouldn't be right. The preacher lives four blocks from here."

She followed the direction of his gaze. "I hope he won't mind if we wake him up."

"I don't think he will. I'll just explain the situation. He'll understand."

That was good. Taking the reins in his hands, he led his horse away from the post and waited for her. Her heartbeat picking up, she joined him. As they strolled down the street, she glanced back at the saloon, grateful Abe hadn't run out to stop her. With any luck, she would never see her brother again.

Putting the past behind her, she faced forward and walked with the man who would be a part of her future. She hoped he wasn't upset with her for being so blunt. If she'd been in any other situation, she would never have acted in such haste.

The journey to the preacher's house was quiet. If she could think of something to say, she would. She thought she could ask about his children, like how old they were or what their names were. She could even ask about his mother. What was her illness? But she couldn't quite figure out how to word these things without seeming nosy. Surely, she had a right to ask them since she was going to be his wife, but she was afraid she'd done too much talking already.

By the time they made it to the preacher's house, he tied the horse's reins to a nearby post and turned to her. "It's a lot of work you're asking for. No other woman wants to take it on."

"I'm not afraid of work." He wasn't going to change his mind about marrying her, was he? Maybe she should have talked more instead of being quiet. Maybe he mistook her silence for reluctance to be his wife.

"I just want to be sure."

"I'm sure."

He studied her for a moment, as if trying to determine her sincerity then nodded. "Alright. I suppose it's only right that we know each other's full names. I'm Mitch Grady."

"I'm Heather Curtiss."

"Heather's a nice name, and if you don't mind my saying so, it suits you just fine."

"Oh?"

With a shrug, he offered her a shy smile and said, "You're pretty."

Her face warmed with pleasure. "Oh. Well, thank you."

He cleared his throat and motioned to the front door of the preacher's house. "We're here."

She smiled and joined him as he headed for the door. No man had ever called her pretty before. Granted, she never had a man court her. She'd spent so much time tending to her parents that she didn't go to church or meet many people. She had a friend who brought over necessities for her and her parents, and that was about as much interaction as she'd had with people. She thought going back East would help her find a husband, but if she could find one here, then it was better than she could ever hope for.

He knocked on the front door, and she clasped her hands together, patiently waiting beside him until a man in his forties opened the door. The preacher blinked in surprise. "Mitch?"

"Sorry to bother you, Preacher Higgins, but Heather and I were wondering if you'd be willing to marry us," Mitch said.

Preacher Higgins glanced at Heather before he opened the door all the way and gestured for them to come into the house. "Good evening, ma'am. Come on in and make yourself at home."

Heather thanked him and stepped through the doorway. Mitch followed her into the house, and they went into the parlor. Turning to Mitch, she waited while the preacher lit the kerosene lamp and set it on the small table.

"I didn't realize you were courting, Mitch," the preacher said as he turned to them.

"Well, I wasn't. Boaz was at the saloon again." The preacher offered a sympathetic nod, and Mitch continued, "Heather here happened to be at the same poker table, and her brother was offering her as part of the bet."

She shifted her gaze so she wouldn't have to see the look on the preacher's face. It was humiliating enough to know what her brother did.

"Since she has nowhere to go and I could use a good woman to help me with the kids and my mother, we hoped you'd marry us," Mitch finished.

"Of course, I will. I'll get my wife to witness the wedding."

As he left the parlor, Heather released her breath and looked at Mitch who offered her an encouraging smile. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's that fool brother of yours who needs to be ashamed."

They waited in an awkward silence before the preacher returned with his wife who was tying the straps on her robe. She went over to the kerosene lamp and adjusted the wick, making the room brighter. "It's about time you got married, Mitch."

Wondering what she meant by that, Heather glanced at her husband-to-be. From the way the woman said it, it sounded like he hadn't been married. If he'd been married before, wouldn't she say something like, It's about time you got married again?

"Don't give him a hard time," the preacher playfully admonished his wife. "It's not from lack of trying."

"Foolish women," she muttered as she turned to Heather. Her smile grew wide. "You're just the thing this poor boy needs. He's taken on too much. I was beginning to wonder when he'd start reaping what he's been sowing."

Heather's eyebrows furrowed. As much as she wanted to ask more about it, she didn't dare. Even if Mitch was going to be a big part of her life, she didn't have the courage to ask something personal in front of strangers. Where was the mother? Maybe she died while giving birth. Maybe she ran off with another man. Maybe there was a scandal in his past which prevented women from wanting to marry him.

The preacher picked up his book and motioned for Heather and Mitch to go over to him. She stepped forward and waited as Mitch stood beside her. Whatever circumstances were in his past, she'd just deal with it. Sometimes things happened that weren't ideal, but it seemed to her that he was trying to make the situation right and that's what mattered. He could have lied, said he had a wife, and took advantage of her as soon as he got her home.

Assured that she had been right about his moral character, she listened to the preacher and repeated her vows when it was her turn. When he pronounced them husband and wife, she turned to Mitch and closed her eyes. She felt his lips brush hers, but the action was so fast, she almost missed it. Surprised, she opened her eyes, wondering if that was all there was to a kiss.

Mitch shook the preacher's hand. "Thank you, Preacher Higgins."

"It's my pleasure, Mitch," he replied before glancing Heather's way. "Mitch is a good man. You won't be sorry you married him."

She thought that was a curious thing for him to say if Mitch did have a scandal in his past. Maybe Mitch changed his ways and the preacher didn't look at his past but at who he was now. In that case, she thought it was nice of the preacher. Not everyone adopted that attitude.

"We'll see you on Sunday," Mitch told him.

Despite her apprehension, she nodded. It'd been a long time since she'd been inside a church. She couldn't remember much of what she was supposed to do, except dress nice.

Mitch turned to her. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Yes," she replied, fiddling with her hair.

When he indicated he'd follow her out the door, she headed out of the house, wondering what the future had in store for her.
Chapter Three

Mitch wasn't sure what to make of the sudden change of events. When he went to get Boaz out of trouble, the last thing he expected to end up with was a wife, but here he was, leaving the preacher's house as a married man. And Heather was such a pretty thing, too. She was much better looking than Hannah, and he didn't think he'd ever love anyone after she chose to marry Boaz instead of him. He had no idea going to a saloon could turn into such a profitable venture. He just hoped that Heather didn't regret her decision.

After he and Heather made it to his horse, he slowly untied the reins, careful not to give away the fact that he was studying her in the moonlight. He got a good view of her profile as she stared down at her hands. The cloak was wrapped around her body, so he didn't know how the rest of her looked, but she was definitely an attractive woman. Soft flowing dark hair that reached halfway down her back, rosy lips that seemed to have a slight pout, deep brown eyes, and an elegant nose. He found it hard to believe she didn't have a man or two vying to court her.

Well, whatever the situation, he figured it didn't matter now. She'd wanted to marry him, and he warned her what she was getting herself into. He cleared his throat and waited until she looked at him before he spoke. "I live quite a ways out. It's too far to walk. I hope you don't mind sitting on my lap."

"No, of course not," she replied.

With a nod, he got up on the horse before holding his hand out to her. She slipped her hand in his, and he helped her up until she was on his lap. She wiggled against him until she was comfortable, and whether she was aware of it or not, his body responded to her. Her cloak might be hiding her curves from his sight, but it didn't stop him from feeling them. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, something that made his body surge with pleasure.

The ride home was going to feel longer than he was used to. He just knew it. Bracing himself for the long trek ahead, he urged his stallion forward, ever mindful of the way she jiggled against him. Her body was soft. It seemed to mold well into his. He tried not to think about it as the horse cantered out of town and onto the path that led out to his ranch. But that was hard to do when he couldn't recall feeling anything as wonderful as a woman's body pressed against his.

He cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn't betray his excitement. "It'll take a half hour before we're home."

"What is your home like?" she softly asked, her head resting nicely against his shoulder.

He sighed, half in contentment and half in frustration. There was no way they'd be sharing a bed tonight, not with the way everything happened. Surely, she'd need time to adjust to being his wife, especially when she realized how much work she just agreed to. The children were at the age where they were getting into everything, and it wore his poor mother out.

"Mitch?" Heather asked.

Turning his attention back to her, he said, "I'm sorry. I was just thinking of my mother and the children."

"What are their names?"

That was a good place to start. "My mother is Gertrude, but people call her Gerty. As for the children, their names are Leroy and Hannah. Leroy is three and Hannah is two."

"They're awfully young."

"Yes, and they need a mother in the worst possible way."

She nodded. "I'll do my best." After a moment of silence, she asked, "What's ailing your mother?"

"Her joints are sore. Some days are better than others, but running after the kids is hard on her. There have been a few days when she's in so much pain she can't get out of bed. Those are days when I get Patty to help. She's our neighbor. I can't be there to help her because I have the animals to tend to. I'll tell you, though, that it's a relief to know you'll be there. There was one day when Patty had a fever and couldn't come over, and I had to take the kids with me as I did my chores. That wasn't easy."

"It doesn't sound like it."

He dared a look at her in the moonlight. He resisted the urge to kiss the top of her head. It seemed to him that she was made for kissing. He was looking forward to kissing her, among other things. He sighed. As much as he tried, his mind kept going back to things of a more intimate nature.

Forcing his mind off the bedroom, he cleared his throat. "So, how did your parents die?"

She lifted her head. "My pa died a year ago. He got a fever that never went away. Then my ma wrote to my brother asking him to come help us. He arrived right after she died from the whooping cough."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Glancing at her cloak, he said, "One thing we need to do is get you some clothes."

"All I need is the materials. I can make them myself."

"My ma can help you."

"Oh, I don't want to inconvenience her."

"You won't."

She settled her head back on his shoulder and sighed with contentment. His lips curled up into a smile. This was definitely nice. A man could get used to this. The rest of the way home, they remained quiet. He didn't mind the silence. When they arrived at his ranch, he saw that the kerosene lamp was still on in the parlor. He sighed.

"What's wrong?" Heather asked.

He steered the horse toward the barn. "Ma is still up. She should be asleep."

"She must be worried."

"Yes, she is," he replied, hoping she didn't detect the bitter edge in his voice. This wasn't the first time she stayed up because of his brother's reckless behavior.

Once he put the horse in its stall, he turned to Heather and held his hand out to her. She took his hand and walked with him to the house. The house was two stories with three bedrooms on the top floor. On the bottom floor was the kitchen, pantry, and a small room off to the side of the parlor. His mother used this room as her bedroom since climbing the stairs had become difficult on her.

"I grew up in this house," Mitch told Heather as they walked up the porch steps.

"It's a nice home," she replied.

"I'm glad you think so." When they reached the door, he softly opened it and led her inside. He shut the door in time to see his mother run into the parlor. Before she could ask him who he brought home, he said, "This is Heather. I married her on my way home."

His mother's jaw dropped. "Married?"

He knew this would be the last thing she expected, and given the late hour, he didn't wish to go into detail. "I'll explain more later, but her brother happened to be at the same poker table that Boaz was at and she was part of the bargain. Don't worry about Boaz. He got out of there with his horse. Whatever questions you got can wait until tomorrow, alright? You need to get your sleep. It's not good for you to be up this late."

His mother's eyes went from Heather to Mitch. "Alright, Mitch." Giving a relieved sigh, she smiled at Heather. "I'll see you in the morning."

Heather nodded, and his mother hobbled toward her small bedroom.

"Are you thirsty or hungry?" he whispered to Heather.

"I'm a little thirsty," she replied, her voice low. "But I can wait until morning."

"Nonsense. This is your home now. You're allowed to have water any time you want." Letting go of her hand, he led her to the kitchen which was lit by the soft light pouring in through the window. He took a cup from one of the hooks on the wall and poured water into it. "Here you go." He held the cup to her.

"Thank you." She took the cup and drank from it.

By the way she gulped the water, he suspected she'd been thirsty for quite a while. Before she could protest, he gave her more water and encouraged her to drink. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

When she finished drinking, she shook her head. "I'm fine."

He wondered if that was really true but decided not to press the issue. Soon enough, it'd be daylight and she'd enjoy a good breakfast. "Do you need to use the privy?"

She set the cup down. "I should. Where is it?"

"Out back." He went to the kitchen door and grabbed the lantern from the shelf. Once he lit it, he motioned for her to follow him. "I'll take you to it." He thought he saw her cheeks go pink and kindly added, "There's no sense in being shy about it. It's something we all need to do." He didn't think it was possible, but her cheeks grew pinker so he figured whatever else he'd say would only embarrass her further.

To her credit, she followed him out of the house and across the yard until they reached the outhouse.

"It'd probably be easier for you if I held your cloak."

"Oh, yes." She glanced down at the brown cloak before she slipped it off.

He took note of the purple dress she was wearing. Despite its modest cut, it couldn't hide her figure. An ample bosom, slender waist, nice hips. Her body did well to complement the rest of her. Forcing his gaze off of her, he accepted the cloak and hung the lantern on the inside door of the outhouse.

After she slipped into the building, he scanned the sky, aware of how soon the sun would be rising. He hated all the sleep he'd lost over the past two years because Boaz couldn't get his life together.

The door to the outhouse opened, and he turned his attention back to Heather. She took the lantern off the hook. He didn't know if he'd ever get over the pleasure of looking at her.

"You can wash up over there, if you want." He pointed to the well.

She followed him over to it, and as she washed her hands with soap, he said, "If there's anything you need, let me know, alright?"

"I don't need much. A bed and food is really all a person needs."

"Don't forget clothes." He motioned to the cloak. "Do you want to put this back on?"

"No. I was hot in there."

With a glance at the moon, he said, "We'd better get to bed before the sun comes up. Tomorrow's bound to be a long day."

It seemed that any day following a late-night trip to get his brother out of trouble was unusually long, especially since it left him exhausted. Quiet once more, they made their way back to the house.
Chapter Four

"You want me to sleep in here by myself?" Heather quietly asked, turning from Mitch's unmade bed.

Mitch set the kerosene lamp on the dresser. "I don't have another bed."

"No, I meant you won't be in here with me?"

"I thought with everything happening so fast that you wouldn't want to..." Though his face warmed, he gave a shrug to hide his embarrassment. Perhaps if he'd had some experience in this area, the moment wouldn't seem so awkward.

"You're my husband. We should share a bed, unless you don't want to."

"No, I want to," he quickly argued then paused so he wouldn't seem too eager. After a moment, he added, "I just want to make sure you want to do this."

She nodded. "I do."

He didn't expect to get aroused by the notion of being in bed with her. Sure, he knew he'd be when he was in bed. That was to be expected. But it did surprise him that the idea of consummating their marriage tonight, instead of waiting like he expected, should excite him as much as it did.

His mind went back to Heather who was unbuttoning her dress. The light from the lamp lit up the room well enough so he could see her, and though she didn't seem shy about taking her clothes off in front of him, he noticed she'd turned her back to him. Even so, his erection grew harder. There was no way he could sleep now. Not until they consummated the marriage.

Remembering the open door, he quickly shut it. Sure, the kids were asleep and his mother was downstairs, but still, there was no need for the door to be open. Unable to take his eyes off his wife, he rushed through the process of taking off his clothes.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body. Considering his trembling hands, he was glad she wasn't looking in his direction. She kept her gaze lowered on her hands as she finished unbuttoning her dress. Thankfully, she didn't see him almost tear his shirt as he removed it because he couldn't manage to get his arm out of the sleeve on his first attempt.

He finally managed to discard his clothes and hurried over to the side of the bed which was furthest from the lamp. It was probably a sneaky move on his part, but since she didn't seem to mind the fact that the lamp was still on, he wanted to give himself the best vantage point possible so he could see all of her. She took her time undressing, but he didn't mind. It gave him a better chance to get a good look at her, and he certainly wasn't going to turn down that opportunity.

She slipped her chemise and bloomers off, neatly folded them, and then placed them on the chair in the corner of the room. When she turned toward the bed, he got a full view of her. His pulse picked up at the sight of her. Wavy brown hair falling down her back, breasts which gently bounced, and the triangular patch of brown curls between her legs beckoning to him. In his entire life, he couldn't recall ever seeing anything as beautiful as this.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he folded back her part of the blanket and encouraged her to join him. With a shy smile, she slipped into bed. He tried not to appear too eager as he brought her into his arms. Her flesh was soft and warm, molding nicely to his body.

Figuring a kiss would be a good way to begin making love, he lowered his head until his lips touched hers. Despite his uncertainty, his excitement pressed him forward, and he deepened the kiss. Her lips were as soft and welcoming as the rest of her, which he was thankful for since he had no idea what he was doing and found her response to him encouraging. At least, she didn't seem to mind his inexperience.

She settled into the bed, and after a minute of kissing, he shifted away from her so he could touch her breasts. They were absolutely wonderful. Just as soft as the rest of her. He ended the kiss so he could look at them. He traced the curve of them and ran his thumb along her nipples which hardened under his caress. He wanted to linger on them longer, but he was too anxious to explore the rest of her.

His hand left her breasts and glided down her smooth, flat stomach until it rested at the area between her legs. She spread her legs for him, and he accepted her silent invitation and touched the sensitive skin that intrigued him as much as her breasts did. She let out a soft sigh and wiggled closer to his hand. Taking that as a good sign, he traced her opening before he slid a finger into her.

He drew in a breath and savored the way her silken flesh closed around his finger, drawing him deeper into her. Stroking her core, he became aware of how slippery she was becoming. He slid in a second finger, this one going in easily and her flesh eagerly welcomed his attention as he continued to explore her. She let out a soft moan, and his body throbbed with the need to enter her.

His fingers slid out of her, and he moved above her so that he could enter her. He was aware that, in his excitement, he was close to his climax, and it would be embarrassing to no end if he did that before he was able to enter her. He pressed into her, her silken folds surrounding him, tight and warm. Letting out a low groan, he began moving inside her, hardly aware of anything but how wonderful she felt. He wanted the moment to last, but it didn't. Before he could stop himself, he had reached his peak and released his seed. He let out another groan as waves of pleasure coursed through him.

Afterwards, he collapsed in her arms, his heart still racing and breathing ragged. He'd always known he was going to enjoy making love to a woman, but he had no idea he'd enjoy it this much. His one regret was that the process hadn't lasted longer. He'd preferred to have taken his time and savor it instead of having it be over almost as soon as it began. He hoped it wasn't always going to be like this. He wanted more time to enjoy it.

When his head cleared, he rolled onto his side and held her close to him. It was definitely nice being able to hold a woman like this. He brushed some of her hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead. He wanted to ask her if what he did was alright, but he had no idea how to word the question so he didn't sound like he was inept at lovemaking.

She snuggled in his arms, so he relaxed. Maybe if he was inept, she didn't notice. She had as much as experience as him, so she didn't have anyone to compare him to. And maybe next time, he'd do better. Assuring himself that he would, he closed his eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.

***

It was shortly past dawn when Mitch stirred in his sleep. Next to him, Heather shifted against him, and his body reacted to her. Before he could talk himself out of it since he should be getting up for the day, he started kissing her. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. She brought her arms around him, so he brought his lips to hers. When she responded to him, he deepened the kiss, this time tracing her lower lip with his tongue. She opened her mouth to him, and he accepted her silent invitation, his pulse racing at the thrill of kissing her so intimately.

Everything about her was so wonderful. He wanted to take his time and learn all of her. This time he noticed that though he was erect, he didn't feel the urgency to enter her as he had before. Still kissing her, he slowly caressed her skin, starting at her neck and descending to her breasts. He stroked her nipples, noting the way they hardened for him.

She squeezed his arm and pressed herself more firmly against him. Encouraged, he continued to caress her breasts. His lips left her mouth and traveled down the length of her neck. She moaned, another indicator that he was doing better than last time, or at least, he hoped he was. He wasn't about to ask her in case he broke the mood.

Leaving a trail of kisses from her neck to her breasts, he opened his eyes to get a good view of her. He could see her better in the light of the rising sun, and she looked far lovelier now than she had in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. Cupping one of her breasts in his hand, he ran the tip of his tongue over her nipple, enjoying the way she arched her back and wiggled in pleasure. If he doubted her pleasure before, he didn't have to now. And that was good. He'd received pleasure from her and wanted her to receive the same from him.

His mouth went to her other nipple, exploring it with the same care he'd explored the other one, his erection pressing nicely against her thigh. He shifted against her, enjoying the tingle of pleasure that raced through him at moving so intimately against her. Soon, he moved so that he was on top of her, and she spread her legs for him.

Bringing his mouth back to hers, he accepted her offer and slid into her. She wasn't as tight as before, but he figured that was because she was still wet from their coming together the first time. Once again, her flesh wrapped around him. He ended the kiss so he could moan his appreciation. He marveled at how well they fit together and wanted nothing more than to linger in her for as long as possible.

Relieved ejaculation wasn't imminent, he took his time moving inside of her, starting with purposeful movements meant to slowly build the pleasure mounting in his body. She rocked her hips to match his rhythm, and in doing so, she pulled him deeper into her.

"Heather," he whispered before he kissed her lips and her neck, aware of the growing passion swirling around them.

Her legs went around his waist, and he groaned as he gave into the need to thrust faster and deeper. He tried to memorize how everything felt. It was still new, this process of becoming one with a woman, and though he knew he'd be with her this way again tonight, he never wanted this moment to end. He alternated between slowing down and speeding up, glad he had more control over things this time. When he finally climaxed, his body grew still and shuddered until he finished releasing his seed into her. Afterwards, he relaxed and she held him to her, leaving butterfly kisses on his neck.

Once his head cleared, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, taking his time to brush her tongue with his. He remained inside her, not in any hurry to leave. He knew it was now past dawn and he should be out tending to his chores, but he'd spent his whole life getting up every morning to take care of the animals. Surely, one day of lingering in bed wouldn't do any harm. He'd be out there within the half hour. That was still before his mother or the children woke up.

Content, he lifted his head so he could look at his wife. He smiled and brushed the hair from her forehead. Her soft brown locks rested on the pillow in gentle waves. Her cheeks were flushed from their lovemaking, and her eyes twinkled as she returned his smile.

"You're beautiful," he whispered before giving her another kiss.

Reluctant, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, bringing her with him. He could definitely get used to holding a woman in his arms. It was nice. Now when he was done with work at the end of the day, he had someone to hold and kiss, someone to get rid of the loneliness he'd felt since Hannah said she couldn't marry him. After he took over the care of the children, no woman would accept his courtship. But now, being here with Heather, none of that mattered.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence passed between them, Heather lifted her head so she could look at him. "Do you drink coffee?"

"Yes. Doesn't everyone?"

"No. A couple people I've known prefer tea."

"Oh. Well, all we know is coffee in this house."

With a wry grin, she sat up, her hair gently falling over her shoulders. "I'll get started on a pot."

He considered getting up with her, but the sunlight streaming in through the window allowed him a good view of her as she dressed for the day. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of looking at her. Not only did she have a pretty face, but the rest of her could set any man's pulse racing with the need to touch her.

Leaning up on his elbow, he grinned. "When we're at church, I'll have to introduce you to a couple of women. Women need to talk to other women so they can assure each other they aren't the only ones with husbands who have annoying habits."

She pulled the dress over her head and turned to him. "You're joshing."

Unable to resist the playful shrug, he said, "Well, when you find out Jack keeps forgetting to take off his boots so he tracks mud through the kitchen, my tendency to crack my knuckles won't seem too bad."

"And what if I find out another woman's husband's only annoying trait is that he can't stop complimenting her?"

"I suggest you stay away from her. That only makes me look bad."

Her lips curled into a smile as she buttoned her dress. "Besides cracking your knuckles, do you have any other annoying traits?"

"Of course not." No sense in giving away all of his little habits. He rather liked the idea she might think he was close to perfect, at least for a day or two.

"I suppose I'll have to discover them on my own." She turned to the mirror and brushed her hair with her fingers before pulling it back into a bun.

"You should use one of my ma's brushes. She's got a couple of them. I'll ask her for one at breakfast. I know she has sewing supplies, but we might be better off going to the mercantile to make sure you have everything you need. Clark doesn't come by until Monday, so I can't take you there until then."

"Clark?"

"My ranch hand. He comes out three days a week to help out most of the year."

She nodded and headed for the door. "Would you like anything with the coffee?"

"No, I'm fine." Recalling that he hadn't given her a tour of the kitchen, he asked, "Do you want me to show you where everything is in the kitchen?"

"No. I saw the coffee pot and coffee beans when I got some water."

She did? He was surprised she was so observant, but that was a good thing. His mother had a tendency to forget things once in a while, so Heather could help her.

After she left, he looked out the window and sighed. This wasn't the first time he'd been exhausted in the morning, but it was the first time he had a reason to want to stay indoors. He wanted to know more about the woman he just married. He had a feeling that he lucked out, probably more than most men.

He got out of bed and stretched. Another look out the window showed him the cows grazing in the pasture. The clear sky with its pinks and blues promised a beautiful day. The temperature would be just right, too. His gaze went to the barn, and with it came the reminder that he needed to tend to the animals in there.

He turned to pull the blanket over the bed when he saw something unfamiliar on the sheets. Leaning forward to inspect it, he realized it was dried blood. He glanced down at his body and didn't see any of it on himself. So that meant...

Frowning, he thought of Heather. It had to be her blood. There wasn't much of it, but it bothered him that it was there at all. Why didn't she say something? When he watched her get dressed, there weren't any cuts on her. He winced. He didn't like the implication of the blood resulting from him making love to her. If she bled, then it meant he'd hurt her, didn't it?

Sitting back on the bed, he tried to remember her reaction to him the two times they'd been intimate. He didn't recall her saying or doing anything to express pain, but he'd been too wrapped up in how good she felt to really notice anything else. How could he not know she was in pain? He knew he sometimes missed the subtle things women did, but he'd like to think he wouldn't be so daft that he couldn't figure out if the woman he was making love to wasn't enjoying it.

What should he do now? Should he come right out and ask her how much he hurt her? Did he ask how he could avoid hurting her again? Or would that only show her how little he knew about the whole thing, and would she have contempt for him because of it? Maybe she already had contempt for him. No, that didn't make sense. She'd been joking with him before she left to make coffee.

At least at this point, she wasn't upset with him, so maybe he was better off not coming right out and saying anything. Yes, that would be the safest thing to do. Just keep quiet and try to make sure he didn't hurt her again. Decision made, he got up to get ready for the day.
Chapter Five

Heather tried not to think of the day looming before her and all the changes she'd just brought into her life. It seemed to her that the previous night was the easy part. The real work—being a mother and helping her mother-in-law—was ahead of her. At the moment, however, everything was quiet, and she was grateful she'd gotten up when Mitch did. It gave her time to prepare for her new role.

After she visited the privy and washed her hands, she went to the kitchen to start the coffee. She also took a look around the kitchen and saw that it was well stocked. She should be able to make some good meals. Thankfully, Mitch didn't seem like a hard man to please. Not that she thought he would be, but it was nice to talk to him that morning and discover he could joke around. It was good that he didn't let his first wife's death make him bitter.

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and her heart raced in anticipation. Granted, she'd just met Mitch the night before, but she looked forward to seeing him all the same. She hurried to pour the coffee into two cups. She expected him to come to the kitchen since he'd said he wanted some coffee, but he headed down the hallway leading to the front door.

Surprised, she took his cup and followed him. "Mitch?" she called out in a voice low enough so she wouldn't wake anyone else in the house.

He jerked and spun around.

Laughing, she walked over to him and held the cup out to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

She couldn't be sure but she sensed uncertainty in his smile as he took the cup from her. "It's silly, isn't it? Acting like I was spooked or something."

"I figure you're not used to someone being up this early. It'll take time for you to adjust to me, but I'll do what I can to make the transition easier."

He cleared his throat and looked at his cup. "It's not a matter of me adjusting to you but you getting used to me. Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm not tired at all. It must be because of the excitement."

"No. I mean, do you feel alright?"

Not understanding where he was going with this, she nodded. "I said I was."

He sighed. "I meant your body. You're not sore or in pain or anything, are you?"

"Oh!" He was referring to her physical wellbeing. She shrugged. "I'm a little stiff from the long horse ride, but it's nothing I can't handle. I'm sure it'll be gone tomorrow."

He looked as if he wanted to say more but finally drank the coffee and handed her the empty cup. "I better get the morning chores out of the way."

Sensing something wasn't right, she held the cup and tapped the edge of it with her fingers. "You don't regret marrying me, do you?"

"No, of course not." After an awkward moment of silence, he asked, "Do you regret marrying me?"

She shook her head. "No."

He opened his mouth and then shut it.

Debating if she should press the issue since it was obvious something was bothering him, she glanced out the window.

"My mother gets up in an hour and wakes up Leroy and Hannah. I'll be back to tell her everything."

Maybe that was it. Their marriage was rushed, and he hadn't known her before he walked into the saloon. Telling his mother the details was probably worrying him. Maybe she wouldn't be happy. "Will you assure her that I want to do everything I can to help her?"

"She'll be glad for the help." He turned and opened the door. Offering her a smile, he added, "I'll be back soon."

She returned his smile as he closed the door behind him. Yes, that was all he'd been worried about. He wasn't regretting their marriage. Feeling much better, she returned to the kitchen.

She spent the next hour getting familiar with the house, at least the areas where no one was sleeping. When she was done, she went back to the kitchen and found enough ingredients to make tea punch. Surely, the children would enjoy that later on in the day.

Just as she finished making it, a stirring from the other room caught her attention. Considering the noise was downstairs, it had to be Gerty. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and peered out the window, noting that Mitch was still in the barn. She glanced at the clock and saw it'd been an hour and five minutes. Well, even if he wasn't back, there was no reason why she couldn't introduce herself to Gerty.

She left the kitchen and headed down the hall, slowing her steps as she neared the closed bedroom door. It wouldn't be good to scare the poor woman by standing in the doorway when she opened it. Her heartbeat picked up as she listened to the woman's footsteps shuffle across the floorboards. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Gerty had a slight limp.

The door opened, and she smiled as her mother-in-law came into view. "Good morning," she called out. "I'm Heather. Mitch married me last night."

The woman chuckled. "I remember you, dear, though it's a shame that it was so late."

Just as Heather began to speak, the front door opened. They turned their attention to Mitch who was wiping his hands on a towel.

When he saw them, he glanced from one to the other. "I didn't mean to stay out there so long," he finally told Heather.

"It's fine, Mitch," Heather said. "I was about to tell her how we got married."

Gerty motioned them toward the kitchen. "We can talk over some coffee. No sense in hovering about in the hallway."

Heather nodded and followed them to the kitchen, eager to get to know the woman despite her apprehension. She hoped Gerty would like her and not think she was trying to take over the house. She wanted to work with her and make her life easier. That way she and Mitch wouldn't regret having her with them in the house.

Heather sat next to Mitch at the rectangular table while Gerty poured them coffee. She glanced at him, and when her eyes met his, she sensed his unease. For a moment, she debated whether or not she should send a silent reassuring message to him. Would he like it if she was bold enough to touch him? While it was true they'd been as physically close as possible a short time ago, they weren't alone now. Deciding to hedge her bets, she reached for his hand under the table and held it.

He gave her a tentative smile. She returned his smile and squeezed his hand. In response, he relaxed some more. Relieved, she accepted the cup from Gerty and figured he could do the talking.

"We don't got much time before the children are up," Gerty said as she sat across from them.

"I know." Mitch cleared his throat. "When I went to the saloon last night, Boaz was gambling at one of the tables, and this time, he was betting his horse."

Gerty sighed and Heather's heart ached at the look of sorrow that passed the woman's face. It couldn't be easy to hear about one's child hitting such a low point. She wished she could say or do something to help her feel better, but she had no idea what she might do.

Mitch let go of Heather's hand and picked up his cup. "Heather was at the same table. Her brother was betting her."

Gerty's eyes widened and she looked in her daughter-in-law's direction. Heather lowered her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact considering the shame of her circumstances.

"John Meyer was at the table, too," Mitch continued.

Gerty's attention returned to him and she gasped. "Boaz is alright, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's fine. But he almost wasn't. You know how John is. He doesn't cheat," his gaze went to Heather, "but he doesn't take mercy on the loser either."

It took Heather a moment to realize he said the last part to her. She inwardly shivered at the implication in his statement. She'd gotten that feeling with John as he scanned her up and down the night before, but it was still sickening to learn how right she was about the man.

"Anyway," he took a sip of coffee, "I had to play some poker, but I got Boaz and Heather out of there safely. Boaz went home with his horse, and Heather..." He shrugged. "Well, she had nowhere to go, and you know how it's been with me trying to find a wife."

Gerty nodded.

"She and I went to Preacher Higgins, and he married us. I don't think there's much else to tell, really," he finished.

Heather cleared her throat. "Mitch was very kind to marry me, Gerty. My brother was supposed to pay for my train ticket so I could go to our aunt's back East, but he lost the money in the game. I'm very thankful to be here, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

"You've got nothing to worry about," she told her with a wave of her hand. "I'm glad Mitch finally got himself a wife. It hasn't been easy for him since Boaz's wife died and he took over caring for his children."

Heather's eyebrows furrowed. "Caring for Boaz's children?"

"You can't fault Boaz. He took his wife's death hard. She died giving birth to Hannah. In fact, he named Hannah after her. He tried to hold on, but even with my help, he couldn't cope. That's why Leroy and Hannah are with us."

"The children are your niece and nephew," Heather said, turning her attention to Mitch.

"Didn't I tell you that?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I thought I did. In all the excitement, it must've slipped my mind."

Now it made sense, and it only served to make her appreciate her new husband that much more. A good man took care of his mother and his brother's children. Yes, she'd done very well in marrying him.

"So you were never married?" she asked.

"No," he softly replied.

"Foolish women around here. They didn't want to take care of children that weren't their own," Gerty added with a shake of her head.

He lifted the cup to his lips. "It's alright, Ma."

Gerty stood up. "Speaking of the children, I need to get them up."

"I should help," Heather said as she rose to her feet.

"Tomorrow morning, my dear." Gerty smiled and patted her hand. "I think it's best if they get to know you first."

"Oh, alright. Then I can start breakfast. What do they eat?"

"Just about anything. Pancakes, eggs, biscuits, oatmeal. You decide."

Heather nodded and waited for Gerty to leave the kitchen. "What would you like, Mitch?"

He took a drink from his cup and set it down. "I'll eat whatever you make."

She sighed. So it was up to her? "Alright. Pancakes?"

"That sounds great."

"It won't take long." As she hurried to grab the ingredients, she could feel the weight of his stare on her. Surprised, she looked over her shoulder as she placed a large bowl on the worktable. "Is something wrong?"

His face turned red. "No. I was just thinking that you're pretty."

Pleased, she smiled and turned her attention back to preparing breakfast. She could still feel him watching her, but she didn't mind. In fact, she rather preferred it since he was thinking of her in such a flattering light.

Upstairs, she could hear the children as Gerty got them ready. As she mixed the batter, she glanced his way again, noting that he had a slight smile on his lips as he watched her. Clearing her throat, she said, "I hope Leroy and Hannah like me."

"Of course, they will."

"You sound more confident than I am."

He gave a slight shrug and looked at his cup. "What's not to like?"

Happy he was pleased with her, she poured out some batter into the pan. "How many pancakes do you want?"

"Four."

She picked up the spatula and waited until the pancakes were ready to be flipped over before she slid it under them to do so. The sound of little feet coming down the steps directed her attention to the doorway as she waited to meet the children. A boy and a girl rushed into the kitchen and stopped when they saw her.

Mitch chuckled. "Didn't your grandma tell you that you got an aunt now?"

The girl shook her head while the boy nodded.

Amused, she grinned. "Who is Leroy and who is Hannah?"

The boy pointed to himself. "Lewoy." He motioned to his sister. "Hannah."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Heather replied.

"Sit down and get ready to eat," Mitch told them.

"Yes, sir," the boy said and climbed into his chair while Mitch helped the girl into a highchair.

"I hope you like pancakes," she told the children as she gathered the plates and set them out on the table in front of them.

The children stared at her, their eyes wide as they studied her.

"They love them," Mitch told her as he stood up. "I should get the maple syrup."

He brushed by her and her skin warmed from the brief contact. She turned to grab the utensils, hoping he didn't notice how being close to him made her weak in the knees. The kitchen wasn't a big one, so when he returned to the table with the syrup, their arms touched and her heart leapt in nervous excitement. She wondered if he noticed the effect he had on her. After he settled back into his chair, she dared a look in his direction. His attention was on the children as he began telling them that he married her the night before.

Gerty came into the kitchen and helped Heather finish making breakfast. When they sat at the table with the others, Mitch led everyone in saying grace.

"I expect you two to obey your aunt like you obey me and your grandma," Mitch told the children as he cut into his stack of pancakes that were covered in syrup.

Gerty helped Leroy cut up his pancake. "He's right. You need to do what she says." She looked over at Heather and added, "Poor children. They didn't know their mother. Leroy was only one when she died giving birth to Hannah." Turning her tender gaze to the little girl, she smiled. "Hannah was her last gift to us."

"I'm sorry," Heather whispered, thinking of how painful it must have been for everyone when the mother didn't make it, especially for Mitch's brother and children.

"Matthew's got a ma," Leroy said, finally looking over at his grandmother.

"Matthew's his friend," Gerty explained before turning to Hannah's plate where she cut up her pancake. "And you're right, Leroy. Matthew does have a ma, and now you have an aunt to take care of you."

"You know Matthew's ma?" Leroy asked Heather.

"I'm afraid I don't," she replied, "but maybe I'll get a chance to meet her."

"You will at church tomorrow," Gerty said.

"I look forward to it," Heather replied.

"You know who you might like?" Gerty began. "Patty Dixon. She's about your age."

Heather glanced from Gerty to Mitch, surprised there was another woman in the area he could have married but didn't.

As if she understood what Heather was thinking, Gerty explained, "Patty has her heart set on marrying Greg Wilson. She's loved him since she was a little girl. She's a chatterbox, too, so you better get ready to get your ears talked off."

"She means it," Mitch added.

Heather's heart sped up when he looked at her. He'd struck her as a handsome man the night before, but he was even more so this morning.

"I ought to tell you about everyone you'll be meeting tomorrow," Gerty said before she started rambling off names and ages.

Heather did her best to pay attention, but her gaze kept drifting to Mitch and how sweet and gentle he was to her. She had a feeling she was already in love with him. She could only hope someday he might return her feelings.
Chapter Six

Mitch finished feeding the cows and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Since tomorrow was Sunday, he needed to take his bath tonight. He put the rake up in the barn before he took off his gloves and set them on the workbench. Then he picked up the lantern and headed for the house. The chill around him cooled his skin, and he took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. It'd been a long day, but it'd been a good one.

It'd certainly been nice to go to breakfast and lunch where Heather greeted him with a smile that made him feel as if he were ten feet tall and could do just about anything. None of the other women had looked at him that way. Hannah had been nice to him, had even given him a kiss before she decided she'd rather be with his brother. After Hannah married Boaz, he spent a year nursing a heartache, and he spent the next year in quiet solitude. Then Hannah died in childbirth, and his mother lived with Boaz to help him take care of the children. Four months later, she moved back into Mitch's home and brought the children with her because Boaz took to drinking in order to cope with losing Hannah.

After that, Mitch tried in earnest to get married, but the women weren't interested in raising the children. A couple of times, Mitch posted an ad for a mail-order bride, but no one ever responded. He'd given up hope. But then Heather showed up and changed all that.

Eager to see her, he turned his attention back to the house and strode to the porch. He entered the house and went into the small room by the front door where he set the lantern down and washed the dirt off his hands and face. He glanced at his reflection in the small mirror and took his hat off so he could brush his fingers through his sweaty hair. He frowned. It'd been a long time since he worried about how he looked.

He set his hat down and washed his face again. Afterwards, he grabbed the towel hanging on the hook by the mirror and wiped his face and hands. Once more, he checked his reflection. That was better, even if his hair was one matted mess. Well, this was Saturday night, so he was due for a bath anyway.

He took off his boots before he headed for the kitchen. To his surprise, the table had been moved aside so the metal tub was in the center of the room and Heather was by the cook stove, heating up a large pot of water.

The kerosene lamp lit up the room enough for him to realize Heather's hair was damp from her recent bath. She glanced over at him as he entered the room and smiled. "I thought I'd get your bath ready."

"I didn't expect you to do that," he softly said, surprised she'd go through so much trouble on his behalf. She'd just had her bath and now she was going through the trouble of refilling the tub with hot water?

"I want to. Your mother and the children are in bed, so there's nothing else to do."

"You could go to bed. I'm sure you're tired."

She shrugged and set a bar of soap and a washcloth on the table. "You'd think so, but I'm not. I'm actually wide awake. If I went to bed, I'd only toss and turn."

Not knowing what to say to that, for he was also wide awake due to the recent changes in their lives, he nodded and decided he might as well use the bath since she went through the trouble of getting it ready for him. "Thank you for the bath."

"I'm happy to do it. You work hard out there."

"Oh, I don't know. It doesn't seem all that difficult."

She turned to take the pot off the stove and poured the steaming water into the tub already full of clean water. "You should be proud of the work you do, Mitch. I know a hard-working man when I see one."

His face flushed at her compliment. Clearing his throat, he took off his clothes, unable to meet her gaze. When he finished putting his clothes on the floor, he saw that she was waiting for him with the cloth and bar of soap in her hands. His eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought I'd help wash you, if you don't mind."

No, he didn't mind, and the fact that his body reacted in anticipation to the knowledge that her hands would soon be touching him spoke for him. Even so, he shook his head and said, "I don't mind."

He stepped into the tub and sat down. The heat from the water soothed his muscles. He let out a sigh and smiled at her. "It feels good."

She returned his smile and rolled up her sleeves before she knelt by the tub. There wasn't much room in the tub. As it was, he had to bend his knees to fit, but she didn't let that deter her from dipping the cloth and soap into the water by his thigh. He dared a glance at her and saw that she focused on working up a lather into the washcloth.

He really shouldn't be nervous around her. They were married. It was only natural that they would be in the same room without clothes on. Considering he'd taken his fill of her body that morning, it was only fair she got to see him.

She looked at him. "I thought I'd start with your back and your hair."

He nodded and leaned forward while she scooted behind him. She rubbed his back with the warm cloth in a way that not only relaxed him but caused his arousal to get harder. Noting the awkward silence in the room, he cleared his throat. "You're going to spoil me if you keep doing this."

She chuckled as she ran the cloth across his shoulders, massaging them as she did so. "You seem like the type that needs to be spoiled."

"Oh? And how would I be if I wasn't the type?"

"You should ask me what I mean by the type that needs to be spoiled."

"I don't know. If I knew what type doesn't deserve to be spoiled, then I'd know what I shouldn't do."

She rubbed the rest of his back with the cloth while she spoke. "You're a good man, Mitch. I could tell that when you came to the table at the saloon. You weren't like the other men there. You weren't there to drink or gamble or be with the prostitutes. You were there to get your brother out of trouble. You also tried to get my brother to release me from the bet. So you're the type who deserves to be spoiled." She dipped the cloth into the water behind him and rung out the water over his hair. "Besides, it doesn't hurt to be pampered from time to time."

He closed his eyes so the water wouldn't get into them. "It's hard to disagree with you," he murmured as she rubbed soap into his hair, an action which almost made him feel as if he could fall asleep. "That feels really good."

She giggled. "It's supposed to."

"What kind of things do you like, Heather?"

"Well, I like listening to the piano."

Surprised, he opened his eyes and turned his head so he could look at her. "You do?"

"My father inherited one from his uncle and played it every evening after supper before he had to sell it."

"That's a shame."

She turned his head so that he was facing forward. "I can't wash your hair if you're looking at me." After she resumed working the soap into his hair, she added, "My parents got sick shortly after he sold the piano."

"I'm sorry."

"I like to think that everything happens for a reason."

Well, he wasn't going to argue with her on that point. Even if he was sorry to hear about her parents, he wasn't sorry she was here with him now.

She finished massaging his scalp and dipped the washcloth into the tub before she poured water over his head. He shut his eyes and let the water trickle down his face. When she was done rinsing his hair, she gave him a towel so he could wipe his eyes. He figured that was it and expected to take over washing the rest of his body, but she picked the washcloth back up and soaped it.

"Sit back," she said as she placed the soap down.

Though he obeyed, he gave her a curious look. "You're going to wash all of me?"

With a shy smile, she shrugged. "I thought I would. You don't mind, do you?"

"No." He had absolutely no problems with her hands being anywhere on his body. He was just surprised she wanted to do it.

Except for the fact that her cheeks were pink, he would never have guessed she was nervous. She rubbed his chest and neck in strong circular motions. He struggled to think of something else they might talk about, but all of his attention was on her hands and how good they felt on his body. Her hands weren't smooth, telling him she'd been used to hard work. They glided over his body in what seemed like a fluid motion, and the further down she went, the more alert he became.

When she reached his abdomen, he assumed she'd work on his legs in an effort to ignore the more notable part of his body that throbbed in anticipation. But she didn't ignore it. Instead, she slowed her sure movements and chose a more tentative touch. She slid the cloth down his erection, wrapped it around his shaft and then tightened her grip enough so that when she brought it back up to his tip, he groaned.

She stopped and looked at him. "Did I hurt you?"

He chuckled. "No. It feels good."

It occurred to him that now would be a good time to ask her if he hurt her when they were in bed, but she removed the cloth and touched him with her bare hand. That was better than the cloth. She leaned closer to him, and it occurred to him that she was studying him in open curiosity. Perhaps it should have made him self-conscious, but he was too aroused to care.

"Do you like this?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Y-" He cleared his throat. "Yes."

She held him at the base with one hand to keep him upright while she traced his tip with her finger. When she brushed his slit, he shivered in pleasure. "Was that alright?" she asked.

Surprised she worried so much about hurting him, he placed his hand over hers at the base of his erection and squeezed it. He then brought it up and over his tip before bringing it back down. He released his hold on her hand. "I like it best that way."

"But isn't it too tight?"

"No. The more pressure you use, the better it feels."

"Really?"

He nodded and encouraged her to keep going. Though her grip faltered a bit, she followed his instructions on how to stroke him. Closing his eyes, he relaxed even more and let her take control, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of her touch. Her movements were uncertain at first, but as she continued, her actions became bolder and her grip strengthened. He moaned, aware that this was heading for completion but unsure of whether or not it was smart to let her take him that far. When he reached the point where if she didn't stop, climax would be inevitable, he stopped her.

"What is it?" she asked, once again looking at him.

He couldn't be sure, but he suspected her interest was becoming more excited than the innocent curiosity she had before. He knew touching her in bed had stirred his passion. Maybe the same was true for her? Despite his shallow breathing, he managed to tell her, "I'm about to release my seed."

He didn't know how else to explain it, and he wasn't sure if she knew what he meant. Sure, he'd done that twice already with her, but he'd been inside her both times.

Her eyes grew wide in interest. "You are?"

"Yes."

"What is it like when you do that?"

Her thumb ran across his moist slit, and he groaned. "You're going to find out in a minute unless you stop."

"Oh." She examined his erection which throbbed in anticipation. "Do you want to release your seed?"

Did he want to? At this point, he wanted nothing more. "I just wanted to warn you. My seed shoots out, and I didn't want to..." He struggled for the right word, but the best he could come up with was, "Surprise you."

"It shoots out?" she asked, her innocent curiosity once more overcoming any hint of arousal on her part.

"Yes."

"Can I see?"

Even as she asked the question, her grip on him tightened as she slid her hand down his shaft. There was no way he was going to deny her what she wanted, especially when he was relieved she wanted to keep going. He angled his erection toward his chest. "Go on."

She did, her hand moving swiftly over him in the rhythm she was now familiar with, and he closed his eyes, no longer holding himself back. He murmured his pleasure, letting her know this was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. When his body tensed, he warned her he was ready to release his seed and then peaked, the warm liquid shooting on his chest. He moaned and savored each wave of pleasure until his body relaxed once more. His head cleared, and when he opened his eyes, he realized she was still studying him, even though he was no longer erect.

"Will you be able to do that again?" she asked, her fingers lightly brushing him as she undoubtedly marked the difference in how he was before and how he was now.

Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Not for a while but yes."

"How long will it be?"

"It depends on when I get aroused again."

She picked up the washcloth and rubbed the bar of soap into it. "What gets you aroused?"

Finding her curiosity adorable, he chuckled. "Your touch, for one."

Her lips turned up into a smile as she washed his chest. "What else?"

"Seeing you naked this morning."

"Really?"

Noting the pleased tone in her voice, his smile widened. "Does that surprise you?"

She shrugged and finished washing his chest.

He sat straight up and cupped her face in his hands. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the kiss, so he inclined his head toward hers and kissed her. In her response, he sensed a passion stirring beneath the surface. He wanted to offer her the same pleasure she'd just offered him. Ending the kiss, he whispered, "What do you like, Heather? What can I do to arouse you?"

"I like everything we do when we're alone," she softly replied.

He hesitated to ask her about their time in bed, but given the intimate nature of their conversation, he decided he'd better, even if he feared her answer. "Did I hurt you when we were in bed last night?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "No. Why did you think that?"

"Well, I..." What was the best way to word it? "After you left the bedroom, I noticed a little bit of blood on the sheet where you'd been sleeping. You didn't get a cut earlier in the day, did you?"

"Oh. I see what you mean. It did sting the first time we were together, but my ma told me to expect that so I was prepared for it. But then when we were together after we woke up, it didn't hurt at all."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

She giggled. "No. I want to be in bed with you again." She gave him a quick kiss before shyly adding, "I like the way you feel inside me."

"I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear that," he admitted. Now he felt silly for not asking her about it right away, but he was glad that he'd chanced the question now, before they went to the bedroom. He didn't think he could resist making love to her again, and now he didn't have to for fear he'd hurt her.

Pulling away from him and washing the cloth with the soap, she added, "No one makes it a habit of waking up and coming to the kitchen this late, do they?"

"No, but we should probably go upstairs anyway."

"You're right. The water's getting cool."

She washed his legs and feet before retrieving a towel for him to dry himself off. When he was done, he slipped into his pants and threw out the bath water. Together, they went to their bedroom where they took their time making love. She wasn't as shy as she'd been the night before. In fact, it seemed to him that she didn't mind taking the lead, and at one point, she rolled him onto his back and took him into the warmth of her body.

In the moonlight, he watched her as she rocked her hips, her breasts bouncing nicely and her expression revealing her pleasure. It assured him that he wasn't hurting her. He found it also heightened his arousal to know she could be in bed with him with as much enthusiasm as he felt in being with her.

He worked with her, noting she was coming close to her climax, something he couldn't remember her experiencing the night before, something he wanted to give her now. He watched her as she peaked, loving the way she looked as she did so. Her body clenched around his erection, and he moaned his appreciation and thrust deeper inside her, an action that earned him a pleasurable groan from her lips. Setting his hands on her hips, he moved his hips and established a rhythm that resulted in his release.

Afterwards, she remained in his arms, and they spent a good five minutes kissing. Not too long after that, they made love again before they finally settled into a sound sleep, both content. His heart rejoiced that he finally had someone in his life who completed him.
Chapter Seven

The next morning after breakfast, Heather helped her mother-in-law get the children ready for church.

Leroy fidgeted with his tie and grimaced. "I'm choking."

Heather frowned and checked to see if she'd made the tie too tight around his neck. "I tried to make it loose."

Gerty shook her head and chuckled. "Don't you let him fool you. He's fine. Every Sunday, he says the same thing." Shooting him a reprimanding look, she added, "Stop fussing, Leroy. That tie is staying on until we leave church."

He rolled his eyes but left the tie alone.

Gerty gave her a knowing grin. "You'll learn when the children are pulling your leg."

Heather figured she was right. She glanced at Hannah who was sitting quietly on the rocker in the parlor with her hands folded in her lap, which was a drastic change from how she'd been the day before. Yesterday, she ran around the house and got into everything she could reach. "Why is she being so good?" she asked Gerty.

"She doesn't want to mess her pretty dress." She smiled. "She looks just like her mother."

Heather turned her attention back to the little girl with her wavy golden hair pulled back with a ribbon and her wide green eyes. "Her mother was a beautiful woman."

"She was. Kind, too. Course, you're both things as well."

Her cheeks warmed at the woman's compliment. "Thank you, Gerty."

The front door opened, and Mitch smiled at them. "The buckboard's ready. And yes, Ma, the food you and Heather prepared is secure." Glancing at Heather, he added, "Ever since I wasn't careful putting one of her pies in the back and it ended up splattered all over the place, I have to assure her the food's alright."

"Well, you can't be too careful," Gerty said with a grin. "Come along, children."

Leroy bolted out the door, yelling something about how he couldn't wait to tell Matthew he got an aunt. Heather watched in amusement as Hannah smoothed her dress and held her hand out to Gerty who took it and led her out the front door.

Heather adjusted the ribbon on the hat Gerty let her wear. Unfortunately, she had to make due with the same dress she'd been wearing when she met Mitch, but Gerty promised her they'd get started on a dress suitable for a church. She glanced at the white gloves Gerty let her borrow and sighed. While the hat and gloves were fitting, her dress and boots were sorely lacking.

"What's wrong?" Mitch asked, coming over to her.

Her focus went off of her clothes and to his appearance. He looked good in a nice dark suit with his matching hat. "You're handsome."

He laughed and gave her a kiss. "And that's wrong?"

"No. That isn't what's wrong."

"Then what is it?"

"My dress doesn't match the nice gloves and hat your mother lent me."

"Is that all?"

"Is that all?"

"The important thing is your heart's in the right place." He kissed her again, this time pulling her into his arms and making her forget about everything but how wonderful he was. When he ended the kiss, he continued to hold her and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You'll be fine."

When he pulled away from her, she immediately missed being in his arms, but he slipped his arm around her waist and led her to the door. "I'm glad you won that poker game, Mitch," she softly confessed, unable to look at him.

"I am, too. I had no idea going in that it would be my lucky night." They stepped onto the porch and he shut the door behind them. Leading her down the porch steps, he gave her a wink. "Remember that I'm perfect and you can't believe anyone who says otherwise."

She giggled and nudged him playfully in the side. "I'll be sure to remember that."

They reached the buckboard, and he released her so he could help his mother and the children into the wagon before he turned to help her. He hopped in next to her, released the brake and urged the horses forward. While he sat on her left, Hannah, Leroy and Gerty sat to her right. She sighed in contentment and leaned against him while putting her arm around Hannah's shoulders to steady her.

She couldn't have asked for a better day. The breeze was cool but the sun warmed things up. The ride to church was a pleasant one, and she noticed that even though Leroy grimaced and touched his tie a few times, he managed to refrain from trying to pull it off. She gently squeezed his arms and smiled her encouragement since he was being good.

When they arrived at the small church, Mitch parked the wagon and helped everyone out, and Heather helped Gerty gather the food and brought it to the part of the lawn that had two large tables set out. Heather hadn't enjoyed a potluck before a service before, but then she couldn't remember being at church more than a couple of times in her life and she was too young to remember if she ate before the service.

When they reached a group of women who were setting out dishes and food on the wooden table, Gerty clucked her tongue. "Why, Patty, I see you couldn't resist making the muffins."

The young brunette, who Heather guessed was close to her age, turned from the plate she set down. Her cheeks turned pink. "I can't help it. Greg loves muffins."

Gerty chuckled and put her pie down. "Someday he might notice you."

Heather followed Patty's gaze to the young man who was talking to Mitch and a couple of older men.

Patty sighed. "I hope so, Gerty."

"You never know. Mitch gave up on finding a wife, and I'd be lying if he didn't knock me over with a feather when he brought Heather home Friday night and told me he had a wife." Gerty patted her arm. "Miracles still happen."

"From your lips to God's ears." Looking at Heather, Patty added, "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Heather replied.

A woman who seemed to be in her early thirties came over to them and smiled. "Well, who do we have here?"

"This is my daughter-in-law, Heather," Gerty answered as she took the plate of rolls from Heather's hands.

"Oh, I could have put that down," Heather said, embarrassed she hadn't done it sooner.

"It doesn't matter," Gerty assured her. "Heather, this is Evelyn, but we call her Eve for short."

Heather nodded a greeting, aware that a couple of other women came over to them, probably curious about her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Heather." Eve smiled and hugged her. "It's about time Mitch got married. But I don't recall seeing you in Lewistown before."

"Oh, no." Heather glanced at the curious women. "I used to live in Bozeman."

"So how did you end up here?"

Heather wasn't sure that telling anyone besides Gerty was a good idea. She glanced at the preacher who'd married her and Mitch and wondered if he told anyone the circumstances that led her and Mitch showing up at his door Friday night. She then turned her gaze to Mitch and wondered if he told anyone how he met her. Releasing her breath, she decided she'd have to tell Eve the truth, even if Eve didn't like what she'd hear. The truth, after all, might have a way of coming out anyway.

She opened her mouth to tell Eve the whole story when Gerty spoke up on her behalf. "It was fate, I tell you. The children needed a mother, and I'm not getting any younger. You know how my body hurts from time to time."

Eve nodded.

Gerty picked Hannah up and motioned for Leroy to play with the other children before she turned back to Eve. "Well, Mitch happened to meet her while helping his brother, and he married her."

Patty leaned forward and asked Heather, "You mean, you didn't even know Mitch?"

"No." Heather cleared her throat. "It was sudden."

"And sometimes things work out like that," Gerty added. "Her parents are no longer with us, and her brother wasn't the reliable sort so Mitch figured she'd do well to be a mother to the children and a help to me."

Patty sighed wistfully. "It sounds romantic."

Eve chuckled. "Patty, dear, your head is always in the clouds. It sounds like Mitch and Heather made a very sensible arrangement. She needed a home and he certainly can use the help at the ranch. I'm sure she's a godsend to Gerty as well."

"Very much so," Gerty replied, smiling at Heather.

Heather appreciated the woman's kind words.

"But you came from Bozeman?" Eve asked.

Directing her attention back to Eve, Heather nodded. "My brother brought me here."

"Really?"

Heather sensed that Eve was about to ask more when the preacher's wife came over to them. "I see you met Mitch's wife," she said in a cheerful tone.

"Yes," Eve replied. "We were just getting acquainted with her."

"Good." The preacher's wife patted Heather on the arm. "You're among friends here. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Glancing at the other women, she added, "The men are getting restless, so I think we should get ready to eat."

The women dispersed and finished getting everything ready. Heather was secretly relieved. The less the women knew about her meeting Mitch, the better. She didn't exactly relish the idea of telling anyone that her brother was willing to sell her in a poker game. Just recalling the way her brother had so thoughtlessly treated her was enough to make her angry and ashamed all over again.

"Will you eat with me and my pa?" Patty asked Heather and Gerty as they gathered enough food on their plates for themselves and the children. "We got plenty of room."

"We'd be delighted," Gerty replied. "Mitch!"

From further down the other side of the table, Mitch looked up from where he was grabbing his portion of a roast.

"We'll be joining the Dixons today," she told him.

He nodded to indicate he understood, and Gerty and Heather carried their plates to the blanket. Gerty told her to get comfortable before she returned to get them something to drink. Heather started to protest since she wasn't sure Gerty should be doing so much, but Gerty was already heading back to the table.

Patty laughed as she settled next to Heather. "She must be feeling good today."

As Heather helped Hannah sit down without messing up her dress, she glanced at Gerty who laughed as one of the older women talked to her. "Mitch said she has days where she's in pain."

"Yes, she does." Patty placed her plate down and adjusted Leroy's tie so he was happier with it.

"I wish I knew how to do that," Heather commented wryly. "I tried to get his tie right, but it didn't work."

"It comes naturally to me. I help Pa with his all the time."

Once Hannah was happy, Heather sat back. "Is it just you and your pa?"

"Yes. My ma went to be with the Lord a year ago."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm more fortunate than you, Heather. At least I still got my pa."

"But I'm very fortunate, too. Mitch happened to be at the right place at the right time, and I have a real good life here."

"Mitch is a wonderful man," Patty agreed, "and I know he was wanting to marry, which was good after Hannah married his brother instead of him."

"He wanted to marry Hannah?" Heather's gaze went to the little girl and thought of her mother who had died giving birth to her.

"Yes. For a few months, Hannah had a terrible time deciding which brother she wanted more, but then she said one day she woke up and she just knew it was going to be Boaz. It was a hard choice. Both of them were good men."

"Mitch didn't pine for her, did he?"

"He did for a year, but then he started looking for other women to marry."

"Did he try to court you?"

Patty blushed but shook her head. "I'm afraid everyone knows I want to marry Greg Wilson. Mitch knew, too, and never asked, which is good because I would have told him no. It wouldn't be fair to him because I didn't love him. But he did ask to court Ellie over there."

Heather turned her attention to the tall blonde who was juggling twin babies in her arms on another blanket full of other people.

"There were a couple of others who live in town, but no one was interested," Patty added.

Heather didn't need to ask why they weren't interested. Mitch and Gerty had already told her that none of the women wanted to take care of someone else's children. "Well, maybe I should thank them for saving him for me. He's so wonderful."

Patty giggled. "I could tell you thought that about him when I first saw you, and judging by the way he was looking at you, the feeling is mutual."

Pleased she noticed that about Mitch, Heather smiled. Never in a million years did she imagine she'd end up with someone like him. She thought she might have an amiable marriage, but this was so much better than any of her daydreams when she was younger. When Mitch joined them, her heart leapt at the way he smiled at her. She was in love with him. They'd known each other for such a short time, but she already knew she loved him.

Gerty and Patty's pa joined them shortly after that. Then they started eating. Heather thought the potluck was an enjoyable idea. She spent some time helping Hannah eat, making sure no food spilled on the little girl's dress. Patty's father and Mitch discussed cattle and other things that Heather wasn't familiar with. She figured in due time, she'd learn more about the things Mitch did on the ranch. While the men talked, she turned her attention to Patty and Gerty and joined in their conversation.

When they were done eating, it was time to clean up, and after that, they went inside the quaint church for the service. Heather tried to pay attention to the preacher, but from time to time, Leroy or Hannah would need her attention. Gerty admonished them twice to settle down when they got restless, and eventually Heather held Leroy close to her side while Gerty put Hannah on her lap. Next to Heather, Mitch sat close enough to her so that their arms and thighs were touching. Her skin tingled with delight, and when he glanced her way, she offered him a shy smile which he returned.

After the service, they went outside. While the children played, Patty came over to Heather. "I'm glad you're here," Patty told her. "I don't have much in common with most of the other women."

Curious, Heather studied her. She was an attractive brunette, and she wore a nice blue dress with a matching bonnet. She seemed to be nineteen or twenty, if Heather judged her age right. "Really? Why is that?"

Patty shrugged. "It's not that I don't get along with them. I do. I just have a hard time thinking of things to talk about sometimes. I don't know why. I feel more comfortable around you."

"I feel comfortable around you, too, but that's probably because you do most of the talking," Heather teased.

She giggled. "I don't talk all the time with just anyone. That's what I mean about being comfortable with you. It's easy to talk to you."

"I know what you mean."

Eve called out to them, so they turned in her direction and waited for her to join them. "It was nice meeting you today, Heather. If you need anything, just ask. We're happy to help."

"I appreciate that."

Patty waved to her father before saying, "I need to get back to the ranch. I'll see you next Sunday."

After they told her good-bye, Eve waited for her to be out of hearing distance before turning back to Heather. "She's such a sweet girl, but I don't think Greg will ever take an interest in her."

Heather's gaze went to Greg who was talking to Mitch and a couple of other men. "Is he interested in someone else?"

"That's just it. He's not interested in getting married at all. I'm not one to spread rumors, of course, but some men aren't the marrying type, especially if the woman in question only acts and dresses like a woman on Sundays when she has to."

Eyebrows furrowed, she waited for Eve to explain what she meant, but Eve changed topics.

"It's good that Mitch found you when he did. I hope you two will have many years together."

Returning her smile, Heather thanked her then went to help Gerty with the children.
Chapter Eight

The next day, Heather peered out the window to see if Mitch had left the barn yet, but he hadn't. She let go of the curtain in the parlor and turned back to Gerty who was sewing. "I'm glad your hands aren't bothering you today," she said as she returned to her seat.

Gerty smiled and pulled the thread through the shirt she was mending. "They feel good. I think it's that tea you made."

"I'm glad it works. My mother swore by it."

"Smart woman."

Heather turned her attention to Leroy and Hannah who were fighting over a toy train. "Can I take them outside? It's a lovely day, and they might enjoy getting a chance to run around for a while."

"My dear, you can do whatever you want. You're their aunt."

Heather thought to ask about their mother. Surely, the children would know about their mother when they grew older, wouldn't they? She understood why they wouldn't at such a young age, but when they were older, they would ask questions and she'd like to be able to answer them.

Leroy ran over to her. "Can we go outside?"

Hannah looked expectantly at her, the same hopeful expression on her face.

"Sure." Heather stood up. "Gerty, would you like to come?"

Gerty shook her head. "No. I don't walk as well as I used to. It's good you're here. I have trouble keeping up with them outside, so I stay in here and they get restless."

Heather grabbed a bonnet from the hook by the door. "Then you should rest and enjoy the silence." Considering the children had a tendency to fight when bored, it was good that Gerty got a break from it. "Come on, Leroy and Hannah."

After she helped them with their shoes, she led them out the front door and down the porch steps. The mid-morning sun warmed up the air nicely. She took a deep breath of fresh air. Granted, she could smell the cattle on the land, but it didn't bother her. She didn't care because this was Mitch's home and she was now a part of it.

Turning to the children, she asked, "Would you like to walk around and see what we can find?"

"Uncle!" Leroy motioned to Mitch who was leaving the barn.

Heather's heartbeat picked up at the sight of him. "Let's go over there."

Leroy was already running toward him, so her words were lost to him. Hannah, however, held out her hand to Heather who took it and led her over to him.

When they reached him, Mitch said, "Do you want to go into town today? We can stop by the mercantile and pick up supplies you need. You know, for your dresses and whatnot."

"Are you sure?" Heather asked. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Clark's here today to help with the ranch."

"I'd like to get some materials to make more clothes."

"We'll get to it then." Looking at the children, he added, "I suppose while we're at the mercantile, we could pick up some candy if you behave."

"We'll be good!" Leroy promised and bolted for the barn.

"Leroy!" Mitch called out.

The boy stopped and spun around.

"Stay out here and I'll get the wagon." He glanced at Heather. "We'll pick up things for you and Ma to cook while we're at it. It's going to be a long day."

"I don't mind," she assured him.

"Alright. Well, I'll be back."

She nodded as Mitch motioned for Leroy to return to her side. Leroy hurried back to her and waited as Mitch disappeared in the barn. "You enjoy going to town?" she asked the children.

"We sure do," Leroy spoke up. "He gives us candy."

"Well, that's awfully nice of him."

"Do you love him?"

Heather's cheeks grew warm despite the cool breeze that ruffled her dress. "I haven't known him for long," she hesitantly began. Good grief, but how was she supposed to answer such a complicated question to a three year old? "I'm...well...I'm very fond of him."

"Fond?"

"I like him," she clarified. "He's a good man, the kind of man who can be depended on to do the right thing. In time, I have no doubt that my feelings will run deeper."

"To love?" he asked.

She nodded. "To love."

Some neighing brought her attention to the barn. Mitch guided two horses and the wagon in their direction. Glad she didn't have to answer any more questions from a strangely perceptive young boy, she kept the children beside her until Mitch stopped the wagon. He hopped out and helped the three of them into it, and since Leroy and Hannah wanted to sit in the back, she got to sit in the seat with him. She looked over her shoulder and saw the children peer out over the edge of the wagon as Mitch urged the horses forward.

"Please sit down," she called out to them over their giggles.

"Oh, they're fine," Mitch assured her. "They know they can't stand up. They just get on their knees and look at the land."

She turned to face him. "They do that often?"

"Every time I take them to town."

"Have you been taking them yourself?"

"The ride to town is too hard for Ma," he replied. "Most of the time, they stay with her, but from time to time, I like to give them a chance to see more than the ranch. Mrs. Higgins usually watches them while I gather supplies."

She glanced at them, assured that they were still in the wagon. Leroy pointed to a rabbit and called out to it. For a moment, she thought he was going to try to hop off the wagon and chase it because he stood up. But he settled back on his knees, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Chuckling, Mitch wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "They'll be fine."

With a roll of her eyes, she giggled. "Maybe, but I can't help but worry they'll do something foolish. They're just children, after all." She bit her lower lip, wondering if that was somehow out of line for her to say. She had no experience with children and he did. Heather decided she wouldn't bother Mitch about her fears anymore. Even if the way Hannah rocked back and forth on her heels made her inwardly cringe since the girl was too close to the edge of the wagon, she kept her mouth shut.

As it turned out, the children were fine. Each time Heather thought for sure they'd end up falling off the wagon, they settled back down to where they were supposed to be. She was very relieved when the children were still safely in it by the time Mitch stopped it in front of the mercantile.

"Do you want me to take them to the preacher's house?" Mitch asked her as he set the brake.

She shrugged. "I don't know. What do you think is best?"

"Well, we have a lot to do while we're here." He turned his attention to them and called out, "You want to see Mrs. Higgins?"

Leroy's eyes lit up. "Mrs. Heggems!" Next to him, Hannah jumped up and down.

Grinning, Mitch directed his gaze back to her. "I believe they decided that one for us. Though," he glanced at Leroy, "it's Mrs. Higgins, not Mrs. Heggems."

The boy sighed. "I can't say it." He turned his wide eyes to Heather. "I'm three. Not four."

"Right. When you're four, you'll be able to say her name perfectly." Mitch looked at Heather and winked at her.

She chuckled as he got out of the wagon. Leaning toward the children, she said, "Your uncle didn't pronounce everything right when he was little, so you don't mind him."

Mitch came around to her side of the wagon and arched an eyebrow. "What mischief are you up to?" he asked, glancing from her to Leroy.

With an innocent smile, she sweetly replied, "We're just patiently waiting for you to help us down."

"You say words wrong," Leroy told him.

"I did?" Mitch asked.

"Yes. When you were little," he clarified.

She shook her head. "Snitch," she told Leroy.

Mitch held his hands out to her. "The first thing you should learn about children is that they repeat everything they hear."

"Oh sure. Now you tell me." Though she rolled her eyes, her smile betrayed her humor. After Mitch helped her down, she noted the slight squeeze he gave her waist and blushed. Noticing that Leroy and Hannah were holding their arms out to him, she cleared her throat and motioned to them. "I think they're ready for you."

The boy jumped into his arms and the girl followed suit. It was nice to know her initial impression of Mitch had been so accurate. He was a wonderful man, and seeing how he'd taken to the children, as if they were his own, warmed her heart even more.

Together, they walked to the preacher's house, and as they did, Heather couldn't help but think of how complete they seemed as a family. Undoubtedly, there'd be other children. She hoped the children she and Mitch would have would be close in age to Leroy and Hannah. Growing up, she mostly played alone. Back then, she'd wished that she'd been born when her brother was younger. Having gotten to know him enough to find out the type of man he turned out to be, she decided she was better off alone. But Leroy and Hannah were sweet children, and she thought as she and Mitch had children, it would be a happy family.

When they reached Preacher Higgins' house, his wife was sitting on a rocking chair on the front porch. She glanced up from her sewing and smiled. "Why, Mitch and Heather, it sure is nice to see you again. I take it Leroy and Hannah are here for my gingerbread cookies?"

Leroy let go of Mitch's hand and raced up the porch steps. Hannah followed him, but toddled more than ran up the steps. Heather thought it was cute. The little girl tried so hard to keep up with her brother, but he was much faster.

"Yes! Cookies!" Leroy told Mrs. Higgins as he hugged her.

Mitch climbed up the steps with Heather. "Leroy, I don't think you're excited enough about those cookies," he joked.

Mrs. Higgins chuckled and embraced the boy and girl. "Let me guess. You two asked for my famous cookies, so your poor parents had to take you to town. Am I right?" With a twinkle in her eye, she glanced up at Heather. "Children often come here for my cookies."

"For good reason, too," Mitch added, turning his gaze in Heather's direction. "Mrs. Higgins keeps winning the bake-offs. Her cookies are the talk of the town."

"I wouldn't say town, exactly," she argued.

"Oh, sorry. I meant county."

She shook her head, her lips turned up in pleasure at his compliment, and let go of the children so she could straighten up. Looking at the children, she said, "Your uncle knows what to say to make sure he gets an extra cookie or two tucked away in the tin can I'll give him, doesn't he? Well, why don't you go in the parlor? I have a couple of toys you can play with."

Without hesitation, the children bolted into the house.

Mrs. Higgins went over to Heather and hugged her. "How are things going with Leroy and Hannah, my dear?"

"They're fine," Heather said, surprised the woman asked the question.

"You know, when I married the preacher, he had three children. His wife had passed on to be with the Lord, and though I agreed to come out as a mail-order bride to be a mother to them, I'd never been so scared in my life."

Oh, now Heather understood. "It helps that Mitch's ma is teaching me what to do."

She patted Heather's hand and nodded. "Gerty is a good soul, bless her heart. When I first came here, she made me feel welcome. I remember when Mitch and Boaz were still clinging to her skirts." She sighed and clasped her hands together at her waist. "How the years flew by." Inside the house, the children giggled, so she opened the storm door. "I better make sure they aren't getting into something they shouldn't. When children sound that happy, they might be up to mischief. I remember one time when Mitch and Boaz were laughing, and it turned out they had brought a snake into their ma's house and the thing was slithering through her clean laundry."

"Oh no!" Heather cringed, wondering if Leroy and Hannah would ever think to do something like that to her.

"I'm afraid so, Heather," Mitch commented with a wry grin. "I suppose your perfect image of me is now ruined."

Mrs. Higgins chuckled as she slipped into the house.

Mitch took Heather by the arm and led her back down the porch. "She's good with all children. Believe it or not, Leroy and Hannah will be crying when we take them home because they won't want to leave."

"I believe it," she told him as they walked down the steps. Once they reached the boardwalk leading to the businesses in town, she asked, "So you and your brother came to see Mrs. Higgins when you were children?"

"Yes, and we enjoyed visiting her as much as Leroy and Hannah do. Mrs. Higgins was always good with children, and as a child, I often felt like she was the only adult who took the time to listen to me. Usually, adults are busy, but she'd sit with me and Boaz and let us tell her everything that was on our minds."

"Were you and Boaz close while growing up?" she ventured, wishing to know more about his brother.

"Yes, we were."

She glanced his way in an effort to gauge his feelings about his brother. He didn't look at her but kept his gaze forward, focused on the road they were traveling. She debated the wisdom of pressing him further, but he cleared his throat and continued to speak.

"Boaz was there at the saloon. The one who was betting his horse," he clarified. "You remember him?"

She nodded.

"And I told you his wife died while giving birth to Hannah."

"Yes, I remember that, too."

His steps slowed, so she slowed down to match his pace. With a sigh, he proceeded, "Her name was Hannah. He named the little girl after her because he wanted to honor her memory. Anyway, he and I were close until she came along. You see, we both wanted to marry her, and well..." He shrugged. "You know she chose him."

She studied his expression, trying to detect any lingering feelings he might have for Hannah, but she didn't pick up on anything. Relieved, since she didn't like the idea of him harboring feelings for another woman, she encouraged him to continue.

"There's not much else to say except that we weren't close after that. We didn't fight or anything, but it was awkward to be around them for a while, so I kept to myself unless we had to be at the same place at the same time. It didn't happen often, and when it did, we kept it polite. Then after Leroy was born, I saw how happy Boaz and Hannah were and realized she was better off with him. He didn't care much for ranching. He got a job helping Zack with his horses, and he decided to live in town. Hannah preferred that kind of life. She wouldn't have liked living on the ranch."

After a moment of silence, she asked, "Was it hard to take Leroy and Hannah in after she died?"

"It was only hard because Boaz had given up on his children. When Hannah died, a part of him went with her. He couldn't seem to do much of anything except drink moonshine."

"That's horrible," she softly replied. Even if the situation was tragic, she was awed by Boaz's love for his wife.

"It was. Still is. But a man can't keep living in the past. There comes a time when he has to accept life as it is and make the best of it."

"Like you did with Hannah when she married Boaz?"

He stopped walking and turned to her. Curious, she halted her steps and looked at him.

"My life is better off with things as they are," Mitch spoke in a voice so low she had to strain to hear him. "Marrying you has been the best thing that's ever happened to me. What's ironic is that it happened when I gave up on thinking I'd ever get married."

Pleased, she smiled at him. "I'm glad you were there that night at the saloon. Not that I enjoyed being there, but if I had to do it again to meet you, I would in a heartbeat."

He returned her smile. "I would, too."

Content, they turned back to their walk, each lost in their own thoughts.
Chapter Nine

"What do you think of this color, Mitch?" Heather asked after she walked over to Mitch. She lifted the green fabric so he could see it.

He glanced up from a pair of work gloves he was holding and grinned. "I like it."

Pleased, she brought it up to her face and examined her reflection in the window. Now that she had someone to impress, she wanted to do her best to look attractive, and the light green color seemed to go well with her complexion. "You really like it?" She turned back to him. "You think it goes alright with my face and hair?"

He lowered her hand so that the cloth was at her neck. "Silly, girl. You won't be wearing it on your face. You'll be wearing it on your body. You need to see how the green color looks down here."

She giggled and nudged him in the arm. "I already know that. I just like to see how the material will look with my face, that's all."

"I don't understand why it makes a difference."

"Some colors look better on me than others."

"No kidding?"

"No kidding. I've found that some colors make me look pale and others bring out the color in my cheeks. I think this one will do just fine."

Though he didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, his smile widened and he patted the small of her back. "I like the color. You should get it."

She nodded and turned back to the shelf while he went to another section in the mercantile. After she determined how much material she needed to make a dress, she sorted through a variety of buttons and ribbons.

Mitch returned to her.

"I won't be long now that I picked the cloth," she told him.

"No, it's not that," he replied. "There's someone who wants to talk to me about my sheep. Do you mind if I go talk to him for a few minutes? I'll be back soon."

She glanced around the mercantile and saw the man he motioned to who was standing by the door. The man tipped his hat in a silent greeting, and she nodded in return. "I don't mind, Mitch. Take as long as you need."

"I won't be more than five minutes. If you find everything you need before I return, this ought to cover the expenses." He dug into his pocket and pulled out some coins.

She'd never handled actual money before, so she stared at the coins in her hand after he gave them to her. They felt warm to the touch, undoubtedly because they'd been in his pocket.

"Wish me luck," Mitch whispered. "I think this might be a profitable move for me."

She wanted to ask him how it would profit him, but he had already turned to head in the man's direction. She shrugged and went back to the buttons and ribbons she'd been studying. Whatever he meant, she hoped the outcome would be to his satisfaction.

Not sure what else to do with the coins until it was time to pay for the purchase, she slipped them into her pocket. She picked out a couple of white ribbons, but she had a terrible time deciding between the ivory buttons and the dark green ones. Finally, she chose the green ones.

"In one of her letters, Ma said you love the color green."

Her blood ran cold. She didn't want to turn around to see her brother, but she didn't see what choice she had. Frowning, she spun on her heel and came face to face with the last person she wanted to talk to.

Abe glanced at her pocket. "Seems to me that you found a way to be provided for. I can't recall a time when I saw a woman hold that many coins."

"It's not what you think," she told him, gripping the cloth in her hands. "Mitch is my husband."

His eyes widened. "Husband? You mean that man not only won you, but he did right by you as well?"

Her face grew warm at the implication that he thought she'd ruin herself for anyone who provided for her. "Yes, he did. He's a good man. Nothing like that seedy man you were ready to sell me to."

He raised his hands in the air. "Oh now, Heather. That's not fair. I had a good hand and believed I was going to win. We were going to live like kings if I had won that last hand."

"You were going to live like a king, you mean."

"No. I meant we, as in you and me. We're family. I wasn't planning to throw you to the wolves."

"But you did!" Realizing others had heard her outburst, she quickly lowered her voice. "I have nothing else to say to you, Abe. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a brother." To emphasize her point, she turned her back to him, and switched the green buttons with the ivory ones. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of him every time she saw those green buttons.

"Ah, don't treat me like that. I really did think I had a winning hand."

She grabbed the other supplies she'd need to make her dress and shoved them into a basket.

He reached out and touched her arm. "Heather—"

Startled, she jerked her arm away from him. "I have nothing to say to you, Abe."

"Ma'am, is he bothering you?" someone asked.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Greg Wilson. Relieved, she nodded. "Yes, he is."

"I'm her brother," Abe told him. "I'm not bothering her. I was trying to talk to her. There's no harm in a brother talking to his sister, is there?"

"There is if she doesn't want to talk to him," Greg replied. "And you don't want to talk to him, right?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Right. I don't want to talk to him at all."

"Seems clear to me," Greg said.

Abe laughed but as they frowned at him, his laughter died down. "But Heather, we're kin."

"Being kin doesn't mean I have to talk to you," she snapped, irritated that he chose to press the issue while someone was watching, especially someone who knew Mitch.

"If you don't get out of here, I'll be happy to take you to the sheriff," Greg pressed, stepping toward her brother.

"Alright, alright. I can tell when I'm not wanted," Abe grumbled then sulked out of the mercantile.

Relieved, Heather felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She couldn't believe she'd been happy to meet Abe when he first stepped off the train in Bozeman. She'd heard of him all her life, but until then she hadn't met him. Now she wished her mother hadn't written to ask him to return to Montana.

Turning to Greg, she offered him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"I couldn't stand by and watch a man disrespect a woman. You're Mitch's wife, aren't you?"

"Yes. We briefly met at church."

"I knew you looked familiar. Name's Greg Wilson."

"I remember."

"Well, then you have a better memory than me."

She shrugged. "I just noticed that you and Mitch spent a lot of time talking."

"Mitch and I've known each other our entire lives. He's a good man. You won't regret marrying him."

"Oh, I know I won't. He's very kind."

"And unappreciated for a lot that he does." She wondered about his comment, but he added, "I have to get back to the ranch. Tell Mitch I said howdy."

"Will do," she called out.

She watched him as he left and thought it was no wonder that Patty had her heart set on marrying him. Greg was a nice man, which also went to show that Mitch was wise in who he chose to associate with. With a smile, she returned to selecting the other items she wanted to purchase.

***

Mitch couldn't believe his luck. Old man Taggert was willing to pay a pretty sum for some of his sheep. It took him all of his willpower to avoid running to the mercantile like a boy who received a cherished toy for Christmas. He hadn't been sure if he could buy Heather a new hat, but now he could. And better yet, he could get the materials he needed to improve the fence on his property.

As he passed by the bakery, someone called out to him. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to talk to his brother or not. After a quick debate, he turned around in time to see Boaz approaching, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped.

"What is it, Boaz?" he asked.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me Friday night. You know," he shrugged, "at the saloon."

"Yeah well, don't expect me to do it again. I meant what I said. I'm done."

"I know, Mitch. You don't have to worry about me anymore. I haven't touched a single drop of alcohol since that night."

Mitch rubbed his eyes. If he had a nickel for every time his brother said that, he wouldn't need to work another day in his life. "Boaz, I know you mean well. You always do, but this is something that's going to be harder to quit than you think it'll be."

He lowered his gaze and shifted from one foot to another. "I never got so drunk I almost lost my horse. It shook me up, you know?"

"There's been a lot of things that's shaken you up over the past couple years. None of them has made your life any better." Though Mitch tried to be gentle in the way he said the words, he knew they still hurt his brother. "I wish I could win a card game and make all your problems go away, but until you come to peace with what happened to Hannah, I don't think you'll be able to quit drinking. A step in the right direction might be seeing your children. Let them know who their father is. Find out about them."

His face grew pale. "I can't. They...they..."

"I know. They remind you of your wife, and when you see them, you can't help but remember the day she died."

Boaz gulped. "It's harder than you think."

"I'm sure it is. I've never lost a wife, but I'd like to think even if I did, I'd want to see my children. Leroy and Hannah aren't just her children; they're yours, too."

After a long moment where Boaz kicked at a small rock and rubbed the back of his neck, he finally nodded. "You're right. I need to see them. And I will."

"Great. They're right here in town today at Preacher Higgins' house."

"Oh, well, I didn't know you meant today. I-I need time. To prepare. I don't even know what to say to them."

"The longer you put it off, the harder it's going to be."

Boaz cleared his throat. "I realize that."

"So...?" Mitch motioned for him to continue.

"I just need more time. How about next week? I'll come out to your place. See the children and Ma. See your new wife. I hear you got married to that poor young woman whose brother was trying to bet her off in the game."

"Yes, I did."

"You're a good man, Mitch. Always were. Always did the right thing. Always did what people expected of you." His voice drifted off, and his hands shook. He crossed his arms and chuckled. "I have a hard time going without a drink." He cleared his throat. "I tend to shake a bit."

Mitch didn't know the first thing about what happened when a man who was used to drinking stopped, but he gathered it wasn't pleasant from the times he'd seen his brother sober. He looked as if a horse dragged him a good mile through a pile of rocks.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I got a job at the livery stable," Boaz said.

"You did?" Mitch tried to hide his surprise, but he had a hard time believing anyone would employ Boaz considering how many jobs Boaz had gotten fired from over the past two years.

"Yep. I'm going to start doing the right thing and be more like you."

"No one expects you to be like me, Boaz. You need to be you. Be the man Hannah married." Boaz lowered his gaze, and Mitch felt a pang of sorrow for him. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories for you. I just meant..." Unable to find the right words, he grew silent.

"I know what you meant, Mitch. I liked myself better back then, too."

Mitch patted him on the shoulder. "I hope this is a new start for you." He glanced at the clock across the street. "I better go. Heather's expecting me." And he'd kept her waiting long enough. Considering she didn't know the town all that well, he didn't want her to grow impatient and start looking for him.

Boaz nodded. "I'll come out to your place next week."

As Boaz headed off in the opposite direction, Mitch realized there was a big chance Boaz wouldn't show up, so he decided he better not say anything to his mother or the children. The last thing they needed was to get their hopes up again.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the mercantile. The walk the rest of the way was pleasant enough, but his good mood had been dampened to a point because of Boaz. It shouldn't have been. Boaz was a grown man and responsible for himself, and God knew that Mitch had no control over what Boaz did or didn't do. But he felt responsible for him anyway. Not anymore. I can't keep watching out for him. He needs to deal with the harsher realities of life on his own. He repeated the admonition to himself several times.

When he reached the mercantile, he forced all thoughts of his brother aside and opened the door, aware that Heather was paying for the items the owner had put in a box. Pausing for a moment, he took the time to enjoy the fact that she was his wife. She was such a pretty thing, too. He doubted he'd ever get tired of looking at her.

She glanced his way and smiled as the owner handed her the change. Taking that as his cue, he walked over to her and gathered the box in his arms. "Did you get everything you wanted?" he asked as he inspected the things she'd purchased.

"Yes."

She handed him the change, and he sorted through the items in the box. Most of them were supplies they needed for the kitchen. He frowned. "You didn't buy much for yourself."

She shrugged. "I don't need much, Mitch. I'm happy with what I got."

"Maybe, but I'd like to get you a hat. Maybe that one over there."

She turned to look at the green hat with a nice ribbon and a lacy flower decorating it. "Isn't it expensive?"

"Not with the deal I made with Taggert." He turned to the owner and motioned to the hat. "We'll take that hat off your hands and I'd like to add a cameo to it. Also, how about that scarf?"

The owner nodded and went to retrieve the items.

Mitch leaned close to Heather and added, "My ma is partial to scarves."

Her face grew pink. "You're buying me the hat and the cameo?"

"Sure. Why not? You're my wife, and I'd like to spoil you a bit." Noting the uncertain expression on her face, he smiled. "I'll explain about Taggert on the way home, and you won't feel so guilty about accepting my gifts."

"Alright."

He resisted the urge to kiss her cheek, for she was utterly adorable, and turned his attention to the owner who came back with the extra items. Once he made his purchase, they left the mercantile and headed for the Higgins' residence so they could go home.
Chapter Ten

"He doesn't even notice me," Patty said, a wistful tone in her voice, that Sunday.

Heather turned from the potato salad she and Gerty made for the potluck so she could see Greg who was talking to Mitch and a couple other men. The group of men laughed at something Mitch said.

Patty smiled. "It's nice to see Mitch happy."

Curious, Heather furrowed her eyebrows. "Wasn't he happy before?"

"I don't know if I'd say he was happy. I'd say content is a more apt term to describe how he was before. Now he's definitely happy, and it's all because of you."

Heather blushed at her words, hoping Patty was right, that she was responsible for his jovial mood this morning. Noting the way Patty's gaze went back to Greg, she said, "Greg's really nice. My brother approached me at the mercantile this week, and when he wouldn't leave me alone, Greg stepped in and helped me get rid of him."

Patty's attention returned to her. "Your brother is still in town? What did he want?"

"Money," she muttered, her hands gripping the skirt of her dress.

Her gaze went to Heather's hands. "I can't remember ever seeing a woman's knuckles go so white."

Forcing her grip to loosen, she said, "I thought he was a good man when he came to help me after our parents died, but then he got greedy at the poker table."

"What did he do?" Patty asked in a hushed voice so no one would overhear them.

With a quick glance around, Heather pulled Patty away from the group so she could talk to her. She needed someone to confide in, especially a woman she felt close to. Granted, Mitch knew the situation, but it was different when she talked to a woman. She couldn't exactly explain how, except only another woman could understand what a perilous position she'd been in when she was at the poker table, when her fate was being decided by a group of men.

"You won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you," Heather insisted.

"Of course not."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "My brother had no money. He told me he was going to take the winnings from the game and send me back East to our aunt. I don't know if he meant it, but he ended up getting greedy and was willing to offer me as part of his bet in hopes of getting everything on the table."

Patty gasped. "You mean, he was selling you? The winner had the right to marry you? And Mitch won the hand?"

"The winner didn't have to marry me. He could have done anything he wanted to with me." Despite the warm air, Heather shivered. "I doubt John Meyer would have married me."

"John Meyer is the worst man you could have ended up with."

"Yes, I got that impression when I was at the saloon."

"But Mitch won."

"Thankfully, and he was willing to send me back to my brother, but I didn't want to have anything else to do with him. That's why I'm relieved Greg intervened when he did. My brother might not listen to me, but he'll listen to another man. He didn't approach me until Mitch left the mercantile, and who knows how long he was watching me so he could talk to me?"

Patty shook her head and frowned. "You let me know the next time your brother comes around, and I'll come after him with a rifle. I might not look it, but I'm a sharp shooter. I'll have that brother of yours hightailing it right on out of here."

Heather giggled at the mental image of an angry Patty chasing Abe off with a gun. "Oh Patty, I'm so glad I got to meet you. You're so much fun."

Though she smiled, she said, "I can do it. I'm not the type to make an empty boast."

"I don't doubt it."

"And you wonder why Greg Wilson hasn't taken an interest in you," a woman said, interrupting their conversation.

Surprised, Heather glanced over her shoulder in time to see Eve slip between them.

"Patty, dear," Eve began as she rested a hand on Patty's shoulder, "if you persist in acting like a man, how can Greg ever notice you?"

"I don't act like a man in front of him," Patty argued, adjusting her hat so it wouldn't blow off her head when a gust of wind blew around them. "I have to wear pants when I round up cattle and help Pa brand them. As for guns, someone has to protect the animals from coyotes and other vermin that are looking for a meal."

Eve clasped her hands together and sighed, her gaze turning upward. "The fact that you freely speak of such things will do you no good. Fortunately, I can restrain from the dreadful sin of gossip so Greg needn't know what you just told me. But Patty, you must be careful. There are some women who have trouble minding their own business, and they'd be more than happy to let it slip that you have masculine tendencies."

"I don't see why such a thing should upset anyone," Heather spoke up, wondering what Eve was getting at.

Eve turned her attention to Heather. "Do you participate in the activities Patty just described?"

"Well, no, but I have no reason to. Mitch has a man who helps him with the ranch. I'm needed in the house with his ma and children."

"Exactly, and that's the way it's supposed to be. The men are to work outside and provide the food. The women are to tend to the home and children."

"But if Patty is good with the animals, she could help Greg."

"Nonsense. She can help him better if she cooks his meals and washes his clothes. The poor man doesn't need a ranch hand. He needs a woman." Eve crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Really, Heather, I'm surprised you would encourage such behavior. You mark my words, Patty. If you don't start acting like a woman, you'll never get Greg to propose." Eve's daughter called out to her, so she said, "My children need me. Patty, keep in mind where you want to be five years from now, and you'll know what to do about Greg."

Heather breathed a sigh of relief as Eve left to go to her family. "Patty, you shouldn't pay her any mind. The only person you can be is yourself, and from what I've seen, you'd be a great wife."

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not." Patty shrugged. "I try to make sure I wear pretty things when I know he'll be around, but it doesn't seem to matter. He never looks in my direction."

"Well, maybe he doesn't want the kind of woman Eve thinks he does. You can't be someone you're not."

"You're lucky, Heather. Your husband just happened to come along and rescue you, and it's obvious that he loves you. Any woman would be thrilled to be adored the way you are."

"You will be adored, too." Inspired, Heather clasped her hands. "I know! Why don't I have Mitch invite Greg over for supper this week? And you can come over, too?"

She bit her lower lip. "I don't know."

"Oh, why not? What have you got to lose?"

After a moment, Patty nodded. "You're right. What I've been doing so far hasn't worked. Might as well try something new."

"That's the spirit! Now, stay right here, and I'll see when he can come over."

Patty grabbed her arm before she could leave. "You're not going to ask right now. Not when I'm here."

"I don't know when Mitch will see Greg again."

"But...but...I'll be standing here all by myself."

"So? I'm not going to tell him you'll be there. We'll just say you stopped by. That way he won't know we set him up."

Patty bit her lower lip and glanced over at Mitch and Greg. "I don't know. What if he figures it out because we're talking?"

She groaned. "You give men far too much credit, Patty. They won't think we're talking about them. Come over on Wednesday. We'll have a great time."

Preacher Higgins called out for everyone to start eating. Heather and Patty hurried over to the two tables to gather their food, and for the time being, Greg Wilson was forgotten.

***

"Why didn't you tell me you invited Patty for supper tonight?" Mitch whispered as Patty's buggy approached the ranch three days later.

Heather looked up from where she was helping Hannah mend her doll's ripped dress. Not too far from her on the porch, Leroy was organizing rocks according to size. She turned her attention back to Mitch who had a bewildered expression on his face. "Does it matter?" she asked.

"Since Greg's coming here tonight, yes, it does," he replied.

"Why?"

"Because he wouldn't have agreed to come out here if he'd known she was coming."

At the time, it seemed like a harmless omission, but as she realized how upset Mitch was, she knew she made a huge mistake. Her face warmed. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it was important." After a moment's pause, she asked, "Why is it important?"

Mitch let out a low sigh. "Because he's going to think I was a part of this. Greg's made it clear that he has no intention of marrying anyone."

"So? All we have to do is say that Patty's here because she's my friend. It's the truth. I like her. Why can't I have her over if I want?"

"But that wasn't your intention, which is why you have her coming over here the same evening we're expecting Greg."

"That's some coincidence, huh?" she asked, but the joke fell on deaf ears.

Mitch wasn't amused. She frowned. She knew she and Mitch would have their arguments when she married him. Every couple had them. But she'd hoped their first one wouldn't be so soon. She quickly finished stitching the rest of the doll's dress so Hannah could have it back. Hannah had a strong attachment to it and would cry if she had to go without it. Heather would have to redo her stitching to make sure the dress wouldn't fall apart again, but that could wait. She handed the doll to a happy Hannah before she stood up so she could face Mitch.

Relieved Patty was still out of earshot, she asked, "Why doesn't Greg want to get married?"

"I don't know, and it's none of my business. All I know is that he likes things the way they are."

"But it's just him and the ranch hands on his property."

"Exactly."

She stared at him to see if he was serious, and sure enough, he was. "What man is going to be happy stuck out on a ranch without a woman to liven things up?"

"Not every man is like me, Heather. I wanted to get married and I'm better off for it, but Greg doesn't want the same thing I do. It's his right to make that decision."

"I know, but has he even considered marriage?"

He shook his head. "Heather, I know you mean well, but what he does or doesn't do isn't our concern."

"I owe it to Patty to try. You can't begrudge a woman the right to try."

He sighed and glanced at Patty as she pulled the buggy up to the porch. "I don't have a choice, do I?" Turning away from her, he went down the porch steps and approached the buggy. "Afternoon, Patty."

Patty set the brake and smiled at Mitch as he took the reins. "Thanks, Mitch!"

Undeterred by his uncertainty about the upcoming supper, Heather waved to Patty as she hurried up the steps. She was sure everything would go fine once everyone was sitting and eating the meal.

"Thanks for having me over," Patty said as Mitch took her buggy to the barn. "Where's Gerty?"

"She's not feeling well today, so I took the children outside. She needed some quiet."

"Oh, then maybe we should have everyone over for another day."

"No. I think we're alright. Gerty said she just needed to rest for a couple hours. I'm making supper, so she can sleep."

"Do you need any help with it?"

"Not right now. I'll need more help with washing all the dishes, if you don't mind?"

"I don't mind. I planned to help you with the meal. You have a lot on your hands." She turned to Leroy and Hannah. "How are you two?"

"Good," Leroy replied and Hannah held up her doll.

"That's a beautiful doll, Hannah," Patty told the girl whose face lit up with pleasure at the compliment.

"I'll be right back," Heather told Patty. "I want to check the pot roast and soup."

"Aunt Heter made pie," Hannah added.

"Actually, I made two," Heather replied, thinking it cute that Hannah had trouble saying her name properly. "But I made those yesterday so I wouldn't have to go through all the trouble of making them today."

"And Mitch didn't try to eat them?" Patty asked.

"I told him it was for today when Greg came out. I'll be right back," Heather said.

Patty nodded and Heather went to the kitchen. Once she checked on the pot roast and soup, she went to her room to pick up the cameo Mitch bought for her. It was a lovely ivory piece trimmed with gold. She thought it might go well with Patty's blue dress with gold trim.

On her way outside, she saw that Gerty had left her bedroom. "How are you feeling?" she asked, quick to help Gerty to the chair in the kitchen.

"Much better. Thanks for watching Leroy and Hannah so I could take a nap. They don't nap nearly as long as they used to."

Heather smiled and poured Gerty a cup of coffee. "I'm happy to help whenever I can." She handed Gerty the cup. "I'm sorry you're in pain."

Gerty returned her smile. "It can't be helped. A person can't stay young forever."

"Well, you seem to stay young at heart. My ma and pa weren't as lively as you. On the inside, I mean. You have a young heart."

Gerty chuckled and sipped her coffee. "I don't feel old. Oh, sure my body is, but I don't feel it up here." She tapped her forehead. "I feel like a twenty-year-old. If my body wasn't old, I'd be jumping all through here, cleaning and cooking like nobody's business."

"I don't doubt it."

"What you got cooking? It smells good."

"Potato soup and pot roast. I have cherry pies waiting for dessert."

"I sure am glad my stomach isn't one of the places on me that hurts because I'd hate to miss any of that. Your ma must have been a good cook."

Heather nodded. "She was."

"You miss her. And your pa, too, I bet."

"I do. Sometimes I think if they had your youthful spirit, they wouldn't have passed on as early as they did, but after my pa went, my ma had a hard time living without him."

Gerty sighed. "Sounds like Boaz. He never did get over losing his wife. Mitch has a tendency to lose patience with him, and I can't fault Mitch for it since he's bailed Boaz out of trouble so much. But Boaz has always been more sensitive to things than Mitch is. With Mitch, if it needs to be done, he finds a way to do it, no matter what's going on. But with Boaz, he stays in the moment of loss and can't seem to go forward with his life. Had it been Mitch who lost Hannah, he would have picked himself up and kept going."

"Boaz won't stay stuck in the past, will he?"

Gerty shrugged and took another sip of coffee. "I hope not. I keep thinking if he could be around his children, he'd find a reason to keep going, but he can't seem to bring himself to come out here."

"I'm sorry, Gerty. That's got to be rough on everyone."

"I haven't given up hope. Someday, he might find a reason to live. No matter what happens to her children, a mother can't help but hope for the best."

Blinking back her tears, Heather nodded.

"I won't keep you anymore. You have a lot to do to get supper ready for everyone. I'll go outside and watch the children for you."

"Are you feeling up to it?"

"Yes." She rose from her chair and carried the cup with her as she headed for the front door. "I feel much better, thanks to you."

"Just don't push yourself too hard," Heather said as she followed her.

"I won't."

As Gerty opened the front door, she looked back at Heather. "I thought Greg was coming over tonight."

"He is."

"Did you mention that Patty was coming?"

Uneasy, she shook her head. "I didn't think it mattered if one more person came."

Heather bit her lower lip, not willing to add that she was afraid if Mitch had told Greg that Patty would be coming, Greg would have stayed home. In a way, she realized it was lying, but at the time, she hadn't thought it mattered all that much. Apparently, she was wrong. She hoped the evening would go smoothly despite her blunder. Forcing aside her unease, she went over to Patty and took her into the kitchen while Gerty stayed outside to watch the children.
Chapter Eleven

No matter how often Mitch tried to look away from the cameo around Patty's neck, he couldn't do it. He bought it for Heather, and here Patty was wearing it. He told himself that he shouldn't care about something as small as a cameo. It was just a thing, after all. But it was a gift he'd given Heather. As much as he told himself it was an inanimate object, the truth was, it represented his feelings for her. And by letting someone else wear it, Heather had demonstrated how little she thought of him.

He forced his attention to his food. He didn't have an appetite, so he kept poking the roast with a fork. Next to him, Heather sat and talked to everyone as if nothing was wrong. How could she ignore the tension in the room? Greg was polite and sat next to Patty, but one look at him showed Mitch how much he didn't want to be there. Just as he suspected, Greg picked up on Heather's attempt at matchmaking and wasn't pleased about it. Mitch sighed and rubbed his eyes. The evening was unbelievably long.

"Patty was telling me her recipe for chicken dumplings," Heather rambled as she ate her food with gusto. "I bet you'd like it, Greg."

Mitch dared a look at Greg who offered a stiff nod. "Maybe," Greg mumbled before he shoved a fork full of pot roast into his mouth.

"While they say the way to a man's heart is his stomach," Gerty began, "Mitch and Boaz's pa was partial to a book. You'd buy that man a book, and you'd swear you sent him to heaven."

"What kind of book?" Leroy asked, ripping a roll apart.

"Any kind. He wasn't picky. Said every one was a new adventure," she replied before she sipped her coffee.

"Not love books?" Leroy asked, grimacing.

"Those, too, believe it or not."

"I don't believe it."

She chuckled. "When you grow up, you won't mind having a love story of your very own."

He rolled his eyes, and across from where Mitch sat, Greg mimicked the action. Mitch ventured that he was the only one who realized that Greg was itching to get out of there.

Someone knocked on the front door. Relieved, Mitch hopped up and hurried to answer it. Right now, any distraction was welcomed. When he opened the door, he stepped back in surprise. "Boaz?" While he had invited his brother to come out, he hadn't heard anything about it since, so he figured his brother decided not to come.

Taking his hat off, Boaz wiped his feet on the mat. "May I come in?"

He stepped aside. "Sure. You're welcome to some pot roast and potato soup if you want."

Boaz entered the house, and Mitch retrieved a chair from the parlor.

"I'm glad you came," Mitch said. "Have you stayed sober?"

Boaz hung his hat by the front door and nodded. "It hasn't been easy, but I've been doing it."

"And the job?"

"Been going well."

"Good." He studied Boaz who looked as if he hadn't slept well and was a bit disheveled, but at least he was here and willing to see their mother and his children. He smiled. "I know it's a big step...you being here and all."

"I want to see Leroy and Hannah." He cleared his throat. "It's just hard."

He patted Boaz on the back. "No one said it would be easy. I'm just happy you're making the effort."

Boaz wiped his eyes.

Mitch waited for a moment then asked, "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, Boaz nodded.

He led his brother to the kitchen where Patty was telling Greg about the latest quilt she was making. When Gerty looked up from Patty and saw Boaz, she let out a surprised cry and rushed over to him. Mitch moved back so she could hug him. The others grew silent and watched as she sobbed, holding tightly to Boaz who hugged her in return. Mitch placed the chair between Greg and Patty. Greg, who seemed relieved, moved his plate further down the table. Heather shot Mitch a questioning look, but he ignored her. It was her idea to play matchmaker, not his, and Greg obviously wasn't interested.

"I don't believe it," his ma cried, pulling away from Boaz. She cupped his face in her hands and took a good look at him. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

"It's been a long time, Ma," Boaz whispered.

She nodded and finally let go of him. Turning to the children, she said, "Leroy, Hannah, your pa has come over for supper."

Mitch motioned to the chair. "You can sit here."

Boaz glanced at Leroy and Hannah who seemed as uncertain as he did about this meeting.

That didn't surprise Mitch. It'd been a long time since he last saw his children. They didn't remember him, and he probably didn't recognize them since they'd changed so much in the past year. He gestured to the empty chair. "Sit down and eat before supper gets cold."

With a hesitant nod, Boaz obeyed and sat between Greg and Patty. Gerty hastened to put the pot roast on a new plate while Heather poured soup into a new bowl. Once he had everything in front of him, Mitch returned to his seat.

Everyone resumed eating their meal, and for a while, no one said anything. Leroy and Hannah stared at their pa. Patty and Heather exchanged looks that Mitch couldn't interpret.

Finally, Gerty spoke up. "Boaz, do you know Patty Dixon?"

Boaz's gaze left the plate in front of him and went to Patty. "I think I do."

"You used to do business with my pa," Patty replied. "For his horses."

"Oh, yes. Matthew Dixon. That's his name, isn't it?"

"It is. He'll be sorry he didn't get a chance to talk to you."

Boaz nodded but directed his gaze back to his children.

Mitch could only guess what was going through his mind. "Your pa got a job," he told Leroy and Hannah. "A good one."

"He did?" Gerty asked, looking relieved.

Boaz shifted in his chair and faced his mother. "At the livery stable."

"That is a good job." She smiled and stood up. "This calls for pie."

"But we're not even done with the main course," Heather argued.

Gerty waved her hand. "It don't matter to men if they have pie before the meal's done. Good news is good news. There's only one thing that is better than good news, and that's pie. Isn't that right, men?"

"Yes, Ma," Boaz replied.

Greg mumbled a reply and Mitch wasn't in the mood for one of Heather's pies at the moment. He knew he shouldn't let something as small as a cameo upset him, but it did. As Heather followed his mother to the kitchen, Mitch glanced at everyone at the table. There was no doubt that Heather's matchmaking scheme was a dismal failure. He could only hope Patty would give up. Greg had no intention of getting married, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Boaz picked up his cup of coffee with a trembling hand and took a long swallow before he set it on the table and crossed his arms, probably in an effort to control his trembling. He turned his attention to his children. "How are you both doing?"

Leroy glanced at Mitch, and Mitch nodded for him to answer him. Returning his gaze to Boaz, he said, "Fine. Hannah's fine, too."

At the mention of Hannah's name, Boaz gave a slight wince but said, "You look just like your ma, Hannah."

"What was Ma like?" Leroy asked.

Boaz fidgeted with his collar and quickly tucked his hand back under his arm. "Um... Your ma was a good woman. Nice, sweet, pretty." He stopped and brought his hand to his eyes, his shoulders shaking.

Heather and Gerty returned from the kitchen with the pies in time for Boaz to bolt from the chair and hurry for the front door. Gerty called out to him, and Mitch threw his napkin on the table so he could catch up to him. Before Boaz could turn the knob, Mitch grabbed his shoulder and pulled him aside.

In a low voice, Mitch said, "You don't have to leave."

With tears in his eyes, Boaz shook his head. "You don't understand. She looks just like Hannah."

"That's a good thing, Boaz. She's her daughter. She's your daughter. She's here because you and Hannah loved each other. You had a good marriage. That's something to be thankful for."

Boaz shook his hand off his shoulder. "Had. I had a good marriage. Hannah's dead, Mitch. She's not coming back. I keep wishing for her to come back, but she won't."

"I know she won't. But she gave you two children, and they need you."

Boaz shook his head and wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. "It's too painful to be in there, Mitch. Hannah's been gone for two years, and it hasn't gotten any easier."

"It won't get any easier until you spend more time with them. If you need to cry when you're with them, then cry. Look, we'll send Patty and Greg on home. The rest of us will leave you alone so you can spend time with your children. You don't need all of us hovering around anyway."

"No!"

"Just five minutes. Give it five minutes and then you can go."

Boaz grabbed his hat from the coat tree, not bothering to make eye contact with him. He wiped more tears from his face. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

"Then Ma or I can be with you."

Mitch reached for him as he opened the door, but Boaz shoved him away. "Don't you get it, Mitch? I'm not as strong as you, and I never will be!"

Mitch called out to him, but he ran out the door and down the porch. He followed him but wasn't able to catch up to him. "You don't have to be strong, Boaz!"

Ignoring him, Boaz hopped up on his horse and kicked it in the sides so it hurried away from the house. Mitch stood on the lawn for a minute before he turned back to the porch where his mother was crying softly into a handkerchief. Heather held his mother and shot him a questioning look. What could he say? Boaz tried and for some reason, he couldn't do it.

Greg came out of the house and passed everyone on his way to his horse. He didn't bother looking Mitch in the eye, and Mitch couldn't blame him. He knew how bad it looked. It looked as if he planned to have Greg out here with the intent of playing matchmaker, even though he had no idea Heather and Patty planned this whole thing. Mitch didn't know if Boaz showing up when he did made things worse or not.

With a heavy sigh, he returned to the porch and slowly climbed the steps. Each step seemed harder to take than the next because now he had to face an even more painful situation: Heather. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he passed her, but he noticed her wince.

"Mitch?" she hesitantly asked.

He shook his head and went into the house. Not now. He couldn't talk to her right after everything that just happened. He needed time to distance himself from the heightened emotions. Without saying anything to Patty who was clearing the table while the children quietly played nearby, he went to the mudroom. Once there, he gathered his work boots and headed out to the barn.

***

Heather sat up in bed, waiting for Mitch to return. The house was quiet. Gerty and the children were asleep. As late as it was, Heather knew she should try to sleep, too, but there was no way she could do that while Mitch was angry. She took a deep breath and glanced around the room which was lit by the kerosene lamp on the dresser. She recalled the night she and Mitch got married and she'd entered this room. She'd been so nervous because she'd never shared a bed with a man before, and now she was nervous because she was afraid she'd have to spend the night alone. Mitch had to be really angry with her if he didn't want to come to bed tonight.

She slipped out of bed and went to the window. The moonlight lit the prairie. It was a beautiful view, especially during the day. But her gaze immediately went to the barn. There was the unmistakable light from the lantern he'd taken with him. She sighed. Yes, he was mad, and she didn't know if she could make things better.

She bit her lower lip and glanced at the robe hanging over the chair. Maybe she should go to him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the robe and put it on. She quietly went down the stairs and slipped on her shoes. As she made her way to the barn, she noted the sound of a coyote howling in the distance and hurried the rest of the way to her destination. Relieved she made it safely to the barn, she slowed her steps as soon as she entered it.

The horses and two milk cows were resting in their stalls, and in the corner of the barn, where the lantern sat on a table, was Mitch. He was sorting through a pile of nails but looked in her direction. The impassive expression on his face made it hard for her to determine if he was glad she was there.

Crossing her arms, she took a tentative step forward. "It's getting late. I was wondering if you're coming to bed?"

He turned his gaze back to the nails and put one in a jar. "I'll go when I'm ready."

Surprised by the gruff tone in his voice, she asked, "How long will you be mad at me?"

He set another nail in a different jar and paused.

The tension between them was so thick, she didn't know how to handle it. There had been times when she'd displeased her parents, but they came right out and told her what she'd done wrong. She didn't know what to do with someone who kept quiet. She stood still, not brave enough to venture any closer to him. A horse let out a soft neigh from a stall, and she welcomed the sound because it was better than the horrible silence that had fallen between her and her husband.

Finally, after what seemed like years, Mitch let out a heavy sigh and faced her. "Where's the cameo?"

Puzzled, she asked, "Cameo?"

His lips formed a thin line. "Don't you remember it? I bought it for you last week."

She blinked in surprise. "Oh, I let Patty borrow it. I thought it went well with her dress."

"I notice it's not in the box I made for you to keep it in."

"With everything that's happened tonight, Patty must've forgotten to give it back. I'll get it back next time I see her."

He shook his head and placed one of his hands on his knee. "I bought that cameo for you. I don't make a lot of money, and I try to save what little I make. I wanted to give you a gift, something you'd wear, something to make you think of me. But since I gave it to you, you didn't wear it once. And tonight, you gave it to someone else to wear."

"I'm sorry, Mitch. I didn't think of it that way."

"No, you didn't. In fact, you didn't bother to think of me at all!" He turned from her and placed his arms on the table, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.

She struggled for the right words to say, but all she kept thinking was that she was sorry so she apologized again. She waited for him to respond, but he kept chucking nails into the jars. Finally, she walked over to him. "I don't know what else to say. I can't go back and not lend it to her."

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I might like to see you wearing it?"

"I was waiting for a special occasion."

He looked at her. "Tonight seemed pretty special to you since you let Patty wear it."

"It wasn't a special night for me. It was a special night for her. She was trying to impress Greg."

"Well, I got news for you, Heather. She didn't impress him. The only thing the two of you did tonight was make him angry. He doesn't want to get married, and it's his right to not get married if he doesn't want to."

Her cheeks warmed. "Sometimes men think they want something but are better off with something else."

"Are you saying that men are too stupid to figure out what they want? That they need a woman to tell them what to do?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Really?" He turned toward her, his jaw clenched. "Then what are you saying?"

She fingered the sleeves of her robe. "You don't have to yell."

After a long pause, he took a deep breath and slowly released it. "I'm not trying to yell. I don't want to be angry. You and Patty need to leave Greg alone. Greg's a good friend, and I can't have him thinking that if we invite him over, you're going to play matchmaker. Whether you agree with him or not, he's made the decision to be a bachelor. You should care enough about him to honor that decision."

"But he'd make a wonderful husband."

He stiffened. "As opposed to who? Me?"

"What?" She blinked in surprise.

"If I was there that day at the mercantile when your brother tried to get money from you, I would've told him to get lost just like Greg did."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"A lot, apparently. That's the reason Greg is so wonderful."

Getting his meaning, she rolled her eyes. "Wonderful for Patty. Not me. I can't believe you'd even think I'd entertain thoughts of him. I just thought fate could use a little shove. They're destined to be together."

"They are not!"

She jerked, shocked by the anger in his voice.

"I'm warning you, Heather. Leave him alone. He doesn't want to marry Patty. If you must try your matchmaking, do it on someone else."

"You're warning me?"

"Yes. As your husband, I'm putting my foot down. You will leave Greg alone, and you'll get that cameo back and wear it because it was my gift to you."

"And what if I don't want to wear it?" As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. "I'm sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"It's nice to know how little I mean to you." He stood up and walked by her.

She turned and followed him. "I meant that I don't want to wear it just because you order me to."

He whirled around and faced her.

Startled, she stepped back.

"I shouldn't have to order you to wear something I gave you, Heather. You're my wife. You should want to wear it, but you don't want to wear it because you haven't." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Forget it. It's just a cameo. Let Patty keep it."

Before she could respond, he strode out of the barn. After a moment, she followed him, but by the time she reached the barn door, she couldn't tell which direction he went. Everything was so quiet out here, and worse than the deafening silence was the darkness. "Mitch?" she called out, but there was no response. And quite frankly, she wasn't surprised.
Chapter Twelve

Heather spent a half hour in the barn, hoping Mitch would come back, but when he didn't, she decided she better go back to the house. At least there, she'd be safe in bed instead of out in the quiet night. Shivering more from fear of what might be out there in the darkness than from the chill in the air, she pulled the robe tighter around her and headed out of the barn.

She made it to the porch of the house when someone called her name. She bristled and turned in the direction where she heard the whisper. It couldn't be Mitch. Mitch wouldn't whisper. She narrowed her eyes and peered into the shadows of the corner of the porch. A man stepped forward, and she got ready to scream when she realized it was Abe.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, scanning the darkness to make sure Mitch wasn't nearby. That's all she needed. After the way he reacted to her lending the cameo to Patty, he'd probably assume that she was in cahoots with her brother, especially since her brother wanted money. Before he could step into the moonlight, she went over to him. Keeping her voice low, she added, "We're done talking."

"You didn't hear me out," he replied, his hat in his hands.

"I heard you just fine. You wanted money."

"Because I've fallen on hard times."

She snorted. "That's your own doing, and you know it."

He nodded, his expression contrite. "You're right. I did wrong by you. I promised to send you back East and I didn't."

"Well, you're not going to send me back now. I have a husband and children to care for." And even if Mitch was upset with her, she knew they'd work through it.

"I don't want to take you away from here. You did good in marrying him. This is a nice house, and he's got a good job. He'll provide for you very well for the rest of your life."

Not liking the way this conversation was going, she narrowed her eyes at him. "I know what you're saying, Abe, and the answer is no. You're not getting any of Mitch's money."

"Don't be like that, Heather. With the amount Mitch has, he won't even notice it's gone. All I need is enough so I can go to the Yukon."

Her eyes grew wide. "What do you want to go to Canada for?"

"They got gold up there," he said, excitement bubbling from his voice. "The gold rush is done in California, but it's booming up there! Come on, Heather. I need you to give me money so I can pursue my dream."

"Pursue your dream? All you want to do is get money without working for it. That's not a dream. It's irresponsible. Do you know why Mitch is doing as well as he is? It's because he works hard. He's up at dawn and he doesn't go to bed until the sun goes down. And in between that time, he isn't sitting around doing nothing, which is what you do."

She turned to go to the front door, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Oh, that's not fair, Heather. I've had some rotten luck over the years."

"You got that rotten luck because you refused to work. Find a job here and save up the money to go up north."

"But I need to be quick if I want to get the gold. You don't understand. An opportunity like this doesn't come along often. The rush in California was over almost as soon as it began."

"Then you better find a job fast." She yanked her arm out of his hand and hurried to the front door. Looking back at him, she added, "You better get out of here before Mitch finds you. He's not happy with you after you tried to sell me."

Before he could respond, she entered the house and ran up to her bedroom.

***

"I feel awful," Patty said as she and Heather sat on the porch the next day.

Heather held Hannah in her lap while Leroy collected rocks in the yard. Stroking Hannah's back, she looked at Patty and sighed. "Don't feel awful. Neither one of us knew it would bother Mitch if you wore the cameo."

"Of course, it bothered him. I think it'd bother any man if his wife handed his gift to another woman to wear."

Heather winced. She understood how her action looked to Mitch. She hadn't understood it at the time, but she did now. If she could, she'd do things differently.

"I should stop hoping Greg will look my way," Patty said, a note of regret in her voice. "Eve's right. Men don't want a woman who dictates things for them. I've known Greg since I was a little girl, and never once did I see him looking that upset. I don't think he'll ever talk to me again. I hope he won't do the same to you and Mitch. Mitch and Greg are good friends. I'd hate to think I created a rift between them."

"I don't think you did. Greg has to know that Mitch didn't approve of what we did."

Patty nodded. "I'm sorry, Heather. Even though you keep saying it's not my fault, I feel responsible for what happened last night."

"But I was the one who didn't tell Mitch you were coming."

"Oh, let's face it. We're both to blame."

Despite the dour situation, Heather grinned. "You're a good friend, Patty."

"So are you, but I won't let you get in trouble with Mitch for my sake. Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so. It's best to wait until he's acting like his old self."

"Acting like his old self?"

Heather nodded and glanced at Hannah who'd fallen asleep. Lowering her voice so Leroy wouldn't overhear, she explained, "He slept on the couch last night."

"Oh, Heather. Now I feel even worse." She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "I suppose Eve is right. Women should let men do the leading. She says I'm not feminine enough, and she's right."

"I don't know if she's right or not."

"She's got to be. She's got a husband, and I don't."

"I got one, too, and I had to be persistent to get him."

Patty's eyebrows rose in interest. "Did you demand he marry you that night at the poker game?"

As she watched Leroy knock over a pile of rocks, she thought over her question. "I don't know if demand is the right word. I think it was more like plead. I knew if he didn't marry me, then my brother would try to get me involved in another poker game."

"So you appealed to Mitch's chivalrous nature. Hmm... I wonder if I should do that with Greg."

"I don't know. My situation was pretty desperate." Heather tried to decide whether she should tell Patty more about what happened last night, but then decided she needed to tell someone since it bothered her. Clearing her throat, she began, "My brother isn't the kind of man who gives up on what he wants, and all he wants is money. Problem is, he's no good at making it or keeping it."

"Which is why he tried to sell you in a game?"

"He was using me as a bet, but he planned to win the hand. He thought he could win. He said he was going to pay for my train ticket and then use the rest of the winnings for his trip. I never should have agreed to it, but I didn't know what else to do. I had no money of my own. Originally, he was never supposed to put me up as part of the bet at all. He even had me wear a cloak and put the hood over my head so no one knew I was a woman. At the time, I didn't see the harm in it."

"No one can fault you for going with him to the saloon."

"That's not the worst part, Patty." Leaning toward Patty and making sure Leroy wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, she continued, "He was here last night."

Her eyes grew wide and she straightened in the chair. "Your brother?"

Heather nodded and shivered. "I didn't realize he knew where I live."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted me to give him money so he can go to Canada to strike it rich in the Yukon." As much as she struggled to keep the bitterness out of her voice, she couldn't help herself. It turned her stomach every time she thought about it.

"What did you tell him?" Patty asked.

"No, of course. Then I went inside before he could do anything."

"Did you tell Mitch?"

"I haven't been able to tell Mitch anything. When we were at breakfast, the children and his ma were there, and then he went out to the fields." She scanned the land around them. Somewhere out there in the fields, he was checking on the cattle. It wasn't unusual that he'd run out to do his chores right after breakfast. But he was angry with her. "You don't think he'll stay angry for long, do you?"

"I don't know," Patty replied. "I'm not very good at judging what a man will or won't do. If I was, yesterday wouldn't have been a disaster."

Heather caught sight of Clark coming back from the fields. "I should get the men something to drink." She stood up, still holding Hannah in her arms. "I'll set her down for a nap first."

Patty rose to her feet. "Let me help. I want to do something useful."

"You could watch Leroy. That'd be a big help right now."

"Of course." Patty went over to the boy and asked him about his rocks.

Heather turned her gaze back to the fields and saw that Mitch was on his way to the barn. Maybe she could talk to him, smooth things out. She hurried to put Hannah in her bed before going to the kitchen to grab two cups and poured coffee into them.

Gerty hobbled into the kitchen. "You need help?"

"No, I got it. How are you feeling?" Heather asked.

"Much better. You're a real godsend, Heather."

She smiled. She debated whether to ask her mother-in-law for advice about how to handle things with Mitch but decided against it. The last thing she wanted to do was involve Gerty in her problems.

"I'll get supper ready while you give the men their coffee."

Nodding, Heather gathered the cups and headed out of the house. "Wish me luck," she told Patty.

Patty looked up from the rocks Leroy was placing in her hands. "Good luck, Heather."

Taking a deep breath, she walked across the lawn and followed the men into the barn. As they put the horses in their stalls, she waited, patiently biding her time until they were done. When they turned to her, she approached them and handed them their cups, giving a tentative look at Mitch who made eye contact with her. She couldn't decipher all of what he was thinking, but when he smiled, she relaxed.

"Thank you for the coffee, ma'am," Clark said and handed the cup back to her.

She turned to him and stared at the empty cup. "You finished already?"

"I was thirsty," he replied. "I'll go check that fence, Mitch."

Mitch nodded, and Clark left the barn.

Glad for the chance to be alone, she clasped the cup in her hands. "I really am sorry, Mitch."

"I am, too. I shouldn't let an object be bigger than it is."

"It's what the object represented. You gave it to me because you cared for me."

With his free hand, he cupped the side of her face and brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I don't just care for you. I love you. You're a part of me. The better part."

"I love you, too, Mitch."

He leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were soft, and she melted against him. It felt wonderful. Relieved there were no more hard feelings between them, she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She traced his lower lip with her tongue, and he opened his mouth to receive her. She brushed his tongue with hers, a shiver of delight traveling up and down her spine. When his lips left hers, he kissed her cheek then worked his way to the side of her neck. She sighed in contentment. If only they could always be together like this.

He lifted his head and smiled at her. "I better finish this before it gets cold." He motioned to the cup in his hand and drank the coffee. When he was done, he handed it to her. "I shouldn't keep Clark waiting. I want to get that fence done before nightfall."

She nodded. "Mitch, is there anything special you'd like for supper tonight?"

"As long as you're there, it'll be special."

Blushing, she gave him a kiss and turned to leave the barn. Her heart light, she went to tell Patty that she and Mitch were on good terms again.

***

That night after Gerty and the children went to bed, Heather waited for Mitch to come into their bedroom. She studied the cameo in the light of the kerosene lamp. It really was a lovely thing. Gold trim around an ivory setting which featured a woman's profile. It wasn't cheap. She shouldn't have disregarded it the way she did. No wonder he was upset to see Patty wearing it instead of her. She decided she'd wear it next time they went to church. That was a reason to dress up, and it was the kind of thing a woman wore when she put on her best dress. She slipped it into the small box and picked up her brush.

While she was brushing her hair, Mitch came into the bedroom. She smiled at him and set down her brush so she could go to him. He took her into his arms and held her close. For a long moment neither one said anything. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. The night was a peaceful one. Only the sound of crickets echoed from outside. What a wonderful change it was from the previous night.

"I never want to fight again," he whispered.

"Me neither."

She lifted her head so she could kiss him. He tightened his hold on her and deepened the kiss. His tongue interlaced with hers, sending a shiver of delight running up and down her spine. She'd never get tired of the thrill his kisses brought her. The kiss ended, and he pulled away from her so he could press his forehead to hers.

"You're so lovely, Heather. When I think of all the years I felt alone in the world, being with you has made it worthwhile. I'd go through everything again if it meant I could have you. You complete me."

Her heart sung at his confession, and she couldn't resist kissing him again. There was a more passionate tone in the kiss this time, and he responded in kind. Her body pressed nicely against him, his strong chest and broad shoulders making her feel protected from the world. His hands traveled to the front of her robe where he slipped his hands beneath the cotton fabric so he could cup her bare breasts in his hands. She let out a soft moan as the pads of his thumbs brushed her nipples which hardened in response.

His arousal pressed into her abdomen. Recalling the night she bathed him in the tub, she slid her hands to his pants and unbuttoned it. Her hands slipped through the opening and went into his underwear where she traced his erection from the bottom of his shaft to the swollen tip which was moist. He groaned and left a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck, his hands squeezing her breasts before he traced her nipples with his thumbs, causing her to shiver in delight.

She continued her exploration of his arousal, recalling how his seed had shot out when he had an orgasm. The male part of him fascinated her. His body was so different from hers, and yet, it complemented her so well. Having been intimate with him made her aware of the pleasures her body was capable of, pleasures she never would have guessed were possible. She wondered if being intimate with her had done the same for him, but lost her train of thought as he opened her robe and slid it over her shoulders.

Lifting her hands out of his pants, she helped him remove her robe then turned her attention to undressing him. He helped her and was soon naked. She took a moment to study him in the light of the kerosene lamp, enjoying his masculine beauty. Looking up at him, she realized he'd been studying her with the same interest she'd been giving him. He smiled and brought her back into his arms. Once again, he was kissing her, except this time he lifted her up and carried her to a chair.

To her surprise, he sat in it and straddled her on top of him, positioning his erection nicely between her legs. She gasped in pleasure and resumed kissing him, her tongue sparring with his, the ache between her legs demanding she rub her sensitive nub against his erection. It seemed such a wild thing to do—to be rocking her hips with such abandon. But the friction felt so incredibly wonderful she couldn't help but keep going. Her climax came fast, her body stilling as she bit her lower lip so she wouldn't cry out in pleasure and wake the children.

While she was still tingling all over, he shifted and slid his erection into her. She let out a soft groan, and her flesh clenched around him, eager to be filled by him. He brought his hands to her breasts and lowered his head so he could lick and tease her nipples, taking his turn at one then the other. When her strength returned, she rocked her hips again. His hands went to her hips to help her establish a rhythm that increased their pleasure. They worked in unison, and she softly moaned, loving the way he filled her core, stroking her with each thrust. He let out a muffled cry and grew taught as he climaxed. She held him close, aware of the way he throbbed as he released his seed.

She kissed his forehead, his cheeks and then his lips. Soon, he was kissing her in return, the earlier inflamed passion replaced by gentle contentment. Keeping her in his arms, he rose from the chair and carried her to the bed where he settled beside her. Relaxed, she closed her eyes and smiled. Soon, his breathing grew slow and steady, and he fell asleep. She remained awake for a short time. She needed to tell Mitch that her brother had been on their property the previous night. But she wasn't sure when would be a good time. Tomorrow. She'd tell him tomorrow. Feeling better, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen

"Are you sure you want to watch the children while Mitch and I go to town?" Heather asked Gerty the next morning as she helped her wash the dishes.

"You've given me plenty of opportunities to rest when I needed it," she replied, running a soapy cloth over a plate. "I feel like my old self today. Go. You and Mitch should get some time alone. You're still learning about each other." She patted Heather's arm. "I'll be fine."

"Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. I was young and in love once."

On impulse, Heather hugged her. "You're wonderful."

She chuckled and hugged her back. "You've made Mitch happy. That's more than I could have ever asked." She pulled away from Heather and finished washing the last plate. She looked out the window. "I see Mitch is ready. Go on and enjoy the day. If I get into a fix, I'll ask Clark to help."

Heather followed her gaze out the window and saw Mitch pulling his wagon up to the house. Her pulse raced in anticipation. She hurried out of the kitchen and made sure the children were behaving before she slipped on her bonnet.

"Aunt Heter?" Leroy asked as he set his blocks down and went over to her.

"What is it, Leroy?" She tied the strings of the bonnet under her chin and turned her attention to him.

"Will you be back?"

Surprised by the boy's question, she knelt in front of him. "Of course, I will. Why would you think I wouldn't return?"

He shrugged and scratched his ear. "Don't know."

She studied him and wondered how much he remembered of his mother. It couldn't have been too much, but perhaps he was thinking of his father who popped up once in a while but never stayed in his life. Whatever the reason, she hugged him, touched when he wrapped his arms around her neck. "I'll be back with your uncle. I'm not leaving you or him. I promise. Alright?"

He nodded.

She ended their hug and cupped his face in her hands. "You don't seem like you're three. You seem a lot older than that."

"How old?"

"Well, if I were to choose a number, I'd say you're as serious as your uncle, and he's in his twenties."

A smile tugged at his lips. "That's old."

"No, it's not," Mitch said.

The two looked up at Mitch who was standing in the doorway. Smiling, she rose to her feet and patted Leroy's shoulder. "We didn't hear you come in."

"That's because I'm as quiet as a mouse," he replied. "You ready to go?"

"Yes." She glanced at Leroy. "Will you be alright?"

Leroy indicated he would and went back to his blocks.

Gerty came into the parlor and gave them a quizzical look. "I thought you two would be long gone by now. It's not every day you get to spend the day alone, you know."

"We know." Mitch gently took Heather by the arm. "We'll be back in time for supper."

"Just like a man. Thinking with his stomach," she teased and sat in her rocking chair.

He shrugged good-naturedly and led Heather out of the house and down the porch steps. Heather held out her hand, and though he took it, he stopped her from getting into the wagon. "That was a real nice thing you did in there, the way you answered Leroy's question."

"Leroy's a sweet boy." She paused for a moment then asked, "Does he remember his mother?"

"No, but Boaz left one night and didn't come back. A week later, Ma found him passed out in the barn, drunk as a man can get. I think Leroy worries that the people he cares about won't return."

"Boaz left for a whole week?"

"It was a month after his wife died. He went to the saloon and stayed in a hotel. Said he couldn't bring himself to come back to the house where he and Hannah lived." Mitch sighed and squeezed her hand. "So he ended up leaving the house for good, and Ma brought the children here to give them a stable home. It's not the way Hannah would have wanted it. She would have wanted him to be happy."

"It can't be easy for him, Mitch," she softly replied.

"I know it isn't. I understand it's painful for him. I just hope him coming here last week was the start of him getting his life back in order. I can't be Leroy's and Hannah's father. Only he can fill that role."

"I saw the regret and longing in his eyes when he was looking at his children. He wants to be their father. He just doesn't know how."

He kissed her. "We should head to town. I want to take you to a restaurant so you can get a break from the kitchen."

After he helped her into the wagon, she teased, "Do I get a break or are you getting a break from my terrible cooking?"

He glanced up at her and grinned. "Now, you aren't being fair, Heather. You know I love your cooking."

She waited until he was sitting next to her and moved closer to him so she could wrap her arm around his. "You've been very kind to eat everything I've made."

Chuckling, he released the brake and urged the horses forward. "You can't blame a man for having a hearty appetite, can you?"

"No. I like that most about you."

"And here I thought it was my good looks."

She giggled and leaned into him. "We'll have a good time."

"Yes, we will."

She kissed his cheek, noting the way he grinned, and settled into a comfortable silence so she could enjoy the ride to town. At one point, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the nice, sunny day. The wagon swayed gently from side to side, a very soothing and relaxing sensation. She rested her head against his shoulder and drifted off for a brief sleep. When they reached town, she opened her eyes and straightened up.

"Would you like to eat and then go for a nice stroll through town or do you want to go for the stroll first?" Mitch asked as he pulled the wagon up to the livery stable.

"It's a lovely day. Let's go for a stroll first. I'd like to get a better look at the town."

She'd been eager to do that since the last time they went to town. At that time, though, they brought the children with them and the children were restless. But now they had enough time, and it'd be nice to see everything.

Mitch set the brake and helped her down before arranging for the gentleman at the livery stable to take care of the horses and wagon. She glanced around the stable, expecting to see Boaz cleaning one of the stalls or putting a horse or wagon away, but he wasn't anywhere.

"Your brother works here, doesn't he?" she softly asked Mitch.

"That's what he said," he replied.

A man unhitched Mitch's horses and instructed another worker to put the horses in stalls three and four. He came over to them. "You said you plan to come back in five hours?"

Mitch nodded. "Yes. We want to take our time and enjoy the day."

He smiled and motioned to the sunny sky. "It's a good one to enjoy." He wrote the number of the stalls on a piece of paper and handed it to Mitch. "Just hand this to Marty when you return, and he'll get your horses and wagon for you."

"Thank you." Mitch tucked the paper in his pocket. "Say, I was wondering where Boaz Grady is. I thought I might say hi while I'm here."

"I haven't seen him in a couple days."

"Doesn't he work here?"

"You can't work if you don't show up."

Heather noted the way Mitch sighed and tried to think of a way she might ease his disappointment. She gently touched his arm. "Mitch?"

Mitch shook his head. "It's alright, Heather. This isn't the first time this has happened." He tipped his hat to the man. "We'll be back in five hours."

As the man nodded, Mitch turned from the stable and waited for her to join him before he slowly walked down the street. Uncertain of what to say, she slipped her arm around his, hoping to give him some comfort, even if it was a small one.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Mitch mumbled. "He can't help but go back to the bottle as soon as he sees his children. It happens every time. I don't know why I thought this time would be any different."

"He's not a bad man."

"I know he's not." He rubbed his eyes and released his breath. "I know he's having a hard time, but it's been two years. At some point, he needs to get on with his life. There has to be something that can force him to take responsibility for his life and do right by his children."

"Do you have any idea what that something would be?"

"Well, it's nothing I've tried." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Next time someone comes up to my house to tell me he's in trouble, I'm going to let him fend for himself. Otherwise, I'm not helping him." He paused and studied her expression. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"No," she whispered, hating the thought of what this might mean for Boaz but understanding that there was only so much Mitch could do for his brother. "You're right. At some point, he has to save himself."

Just like Abe needed to straighten his life out on his own. In silence, they resumed their walk, and as they crossed the street, she took a good look at the businesses. She caught sight of the saloon where her brother had taken her. She inwardly shuddered.

"What's wrong?" Mitch asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking of the night my brother took me to the saloon," she replied, thinking that this would be the right time to mention how her brother had asked her for money the other night. "Mitch, I need to tell you something, but it needs to be in a place where we won't be overheard." She paused. "I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you, but I didn't know how to say it. I still don't, to be honest."

He tilted his hat back and studied her. "What is it, Heather?"

Scanning the people around them, she asked, "Can we go to a place where there aren't so many people?"

He nodded and led her down the street until they came to a park. Once they found a bench in a secluded spot, he sat next to her and held her hands. "What is it? What do you need to tell me?"

She scooted closer to him and lowered her voice. "My brother is still around here."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Where?"

"I don't know exactly, but he's staying somewhere in the area."

"I know you ran into him last time we were in town."

"He was also on the front porch the night we had our fight, after Patty, Greg and Boaz left. When I left the barn, he confronted me and said he wanted money so he could go to Canada to look for gold." She noted the way his hands tightened around hers, but he didn't hurt her. Though he wouldn't like what she said next, she felt she had no other choice but to add, "I told him to leave Lewistown, but I don't think he will."

"And you don't know where he's staying?"

"No. He didn't tell me."

"Have you seen him since that night?"

"No."

After a moment, he said, "I don't want you to go outside at night by yourself. If you need to go to the privy or anywhere else, I'll go with you."

"I'd feel safer if you did. I don't trust him."

"I don't blame you, not with the way he bet you in a game of poker."

"I'm sorry, Mitch."

"For what? You did nothing wrong."

"No, but this is supposed to be a good day, a day we can relax and enjoy ourselves."

With a smile, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "It's a good day, Heather. You're with me. That's all that matters." He stood up and helped her to her feet. "I don't know about you, but my stomach's rumbling something awful."

Feeling much better, she nodded, and they strolled through the rest of the park. "We should get something to eat before we do anything else."

He placed his arm around hers and led her to the restaurant where they enjoyed a good meal.

***

Boaz stirred from his heavy slumber, his head pounding loudly in his ears and an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. He tried to remember the events of the night before, but it was a complete blank. All he knew was that he'd gotten drunk and was waking up in the alley...again. This wasn't the first time he ended up here. The all-too-familiar heat of shame rose to his face. He thought of Hannah and their children. She would be disappointed in him. They didn't know him enough to be disappointed, but when they got older and understood how much he ruined everything, they wouldn't have anything to do with him.

His body shook and tears slid down his face. This wasn't anything like he envisioned his life would be when he married Hannah. Back then, he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. He was working hard with horses. He had his whole life in front of him. He was happy, and he never would have run off on the people who needed him.

But he wasn't that Boaz anymore. Now he woke up in alleys, sometimes lying in a muddy puddle, sometimes shivering because he was cold. Sometimes he remembered what happened the previous night; sometimes he didn't. Sometimes his head hurt so badly he couldn't get up for at least an hour. The worst part of waking up was the stark reminder of what his life had once been—who he'd once been.

After he spent half an hour crying, his emotions settled, and he was able to get to his feet. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. Blinking, he waited for his vision to clear before he stumbled out of the alley. The bright sunlight hit his eyes. Squinting, he turned around and went back to get his hat. Once it was on his head, he returned to the edge of the alley.

He slowly made his way down the street, eyes downcast so he wouldn't have to look at anyone he passed by. It wasn't that he feared a condemning look. No. He was ashamed of his life. Every day he told himself he could change, that he could be the man he once was. Sometimes he even tried it. But today he didn't have the strength to battle the need for liquor.

So he headed for the saloon. As he approached the swinging doors, he caught sight of his brother and Heather. They were entering the restaurant. Even from a distance, he could see how much they enjoyed being with each other. He swallowed the lump in his throat. His brother deserved to be happy. Mitch had always done what was right. He'd graciously stepped aside and let Boaz marry Hannah when Hannah made her choice. And Boaz couldn't even count all the times Mitch came running to help him when he got in over his head at the poker tables.

Boaz turned his gaze from Mitch. It shouldn't hurt to see Mitch so happy, but it did. It was a reminder of all Boaz had lost, and the more he thought of what he lost, the greater his need grew for the solace found only in a bottle. Few things dulled the pain like liquor. And it was so hard to get through the day sober. Mitch had no idea how hard it was. Fortunately, he'd never find out.

Boaz entered the saloon, his eyes quickly adjusting to the lack of sunlight. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a couple of coins. His horse was still at the livery stable. He frowned. He didn't have enough to pay to get his horse and to have a drink. He knew what he should do. It was never a question of not knowing the right course he should take. But as much as his mind prompted him to go back outside and get his horse, the weaker part of him screamed for a drink. He closed his eyes. He hated this constant battle between the will and the flesh because the flesh was so much stronger.

"You look like you could use a drink."

Boaz turned around and saw a familiar man standing a couple of feet from him. "I've seen you before."

"Yes. Your brother married my sister," the man said. "Name's Abe."

It took him a moment to remember that night he almost lost his horse. "Oh, right. Yes, I know who you are. I'm surprised you're still in town."

"Are you?"

Glancing at the few men in the room, he said, "You tried to sell your sister in a poker game." His gaze went back to him. "I thought my brother chased you out of here." He walked around him and sat on the stool by the bar.

Abe followed him and sat beside him.

Despite his unease, Boaz remained seated and told the bartender he wanted a shot of whiskey.

"Make that two," Abe added. "And I'll pick up the tab for my friend here."

He waited for the bartender to set the shot glasses in front of them before turning his attention back to Abe. "What do you want with me?"

"An ear to talk to. Nothing more."

"And if I don't want to talk to you?"

"Fair enough. My sister is now your sister-in-law. You have a loyalty to your brother. All I ask is that you give me a chance."

"I'm not the one you need to ask for a chance." He drank his shot of whiskey and set the glass on the bar. At once, the alcohol soothed him. "You ought to be going to Mitch."

"I would if I could get near him, but he won't have anything to do with me." Abe let out a long sigh, his thumb rubbing the edge of his shot glass. "I made a real mess of things. I deserve what I've gotten. No brother should treat his sister the way I did. Don't think a day goes by that I don't regret what I did. I want so badly to make things right, but Mitch won't let me get near her."

Noting the pain in his voice, Boaz took a good look at him.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I've made such a mess of my life. My pa and ma would be rolling over in their graves if they knew what I did, and Heather must think I'm a monster."

Boaz winced.

Abe made eye contact with him. "I keep thinking if I could just talk to her and apologize, I could ease my conscience. Do you know what it's like to live with the guilt of knowing you hurt those you love?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Boaz nodded and blinked back his tears. It was one thing to cry alone in an alley, but he couldn't bear to cry here, not in front of others.

Abe pushed his shot of whiskey in front of Boaz. "Thanks for listening."

As Abe rose to his feet, Boaz turned to face him. "That's all?"

He shrugged and threw a couple coins on the bar. "All I needed was a kind ear." He motioned to the bartender. "Give my friend whatever else this will cover." Tipping his hat to Boaz, he added, "Maybe we'll talk again."

Boaz glanced at the coins. Was this some of the money Abe got back when Mitch won the game that night he married Heather? He fingered one of the coins. This was an unexpected windfall. Now he could get his horse back. But why would Abe give him so much just to listen to him?

He looked over at Abe who was leaving the saloon. Abe's head was bowed and his shoulders slumped. The man was weighed down by the burden of his guilt. Boaz closed his eyes for a moment and opened them. He knew how Abe felt. Broken, defeated, hopeless, trapped. He blinked back more tears and drank the whiskey in front of him. No one should be burdened by the past. No one.

***

As Abe stepped out of the saloon, his gaze went to the restaurant. He crossed the street and approached one of the windows. The people in the restaurant laughed and talked, but his attention was drawn to his sister who sat at a table toward the back of the room.

She was smiling while Mitch told her something. He studied her, recalling the way the men had looked at her when they were in the saloon. She was a beauty alright, and who knew what kind of money men might be willing to gamble away in hopes of winning her?

Of all his plans to make a lot of money, this was his best one. This one would work. All he needed to do was get her. And with Boaz's help, he would succeed. A slow smile spread across Abe's face before he continued his walk down the street.
Chapter Fourteen

That Sunday as Mitch pulled back the reins to stop the horses, Heather scanned the church lawn for Greg. She knew what she had to do to make things right between him and Mitch. Turning to Gerty, she said, "I'll take the fried chicken to the table."

"You'll have to get down first," Mitch told her with a wink. "Though I think the other men will be green with envy when they realize how good I eat."

She giggled, pleased by his compliment.

Once he set the brake, he helped her down, and Gerty handed her the dish full of fried chicken.

"I better get over there before the table is too full for me to find a spot," she told him, glancing at Leroy and Hannah who seemed content to stay in the buckboard for a little bit longer. Good. She was hoping to talk to Greg without anyone distracting her.

While Mitch turned to help Gerty, she hurried over to the table and set the dish down. She caught sight of Greg as he gave his horse an apple. If she was going to set things right, she needed to do it now. Before she could lose her nerve, she hurried across the lawn.

Ignoring the pounding of her heart, she called out to him as she reached him. To her relief, he didn't scowl at her. He wasn't smiling either, but at least he offered a polite nod and tipped his hat.

She cleared her throat. "I wanted to explain, about that night you came to my house."

"You don't need to explain," he replied as he gave his horse another apple.

"Actually, I do. You see," she took a deep breath, "it was my fault. I asked Mitch to invite you to supper, but I didn't tell him I had invited Patty, too. Mitch had no idea she was coming. I was the one who was trying to play matchmaker." She shifted from one foot to the other. "Anyway, I'm sorry. What I did was wrong, and I promise I won't do it again. Please don't be angry with Mitch for what I did."

Greg looked in her direction, and a slight grin crossed his face. "I appreciate the apology, and I accept it. It's not that I don't like Patty. She's a nice girl. But I have no interest in marrying anyone. There are some things I've seen that have convinced me that I'm better off alone. Patty's better off looking elsewhere for a husband. There are plenty of good men to choose from."

"I understand."

After a moment of awkward silence, she got ready to head back to the group gathering around the table when he said, "You're a good woman, Heather. Mitch did well to marry someone who does what she can to help him. Thank you for explaining what happened. I'll be happy to come to your home for supper in the future."

Relaxing, she smiled. "Thank you."

"Heather?" Mitch called out from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder. "I wanted to apologize for the other night, and explain you didn't know anything about Patty coming to the supper."

"Everything is alright, Mitch," Greg added. "You married a good one."

"I know I did." Mitch patted the small of her back. "That was nice of you, Heather."

"I didn't want to come between two friends," Heather softly replied. "Well, I should get back to Gerty and the children."

As she headed for the table, she caught sight of Patty and waved to her. Patty got down from her pa's buckboard and returned the greeting. Heather glanced at Gerty to make sure she didn't need her, and when she saw that Leroy and Hannah were playing with a couple of other children, she jogged over to Patty.

"It's a gorgeous day, isn't it?" Heather asked once she reached Patty.

Patty's grin widened. "You look happier than you did the last time I saw you. I take it everything is back to normal with Mitch?"

"It is. I had to promise Greg I wouldn't try to play matchmaker again, though."

"I don't expect you to play matchmaker for me, Heather. You're a good friend to try it, but I'm going to have to find another way to be with him."

"Another way? You haven't given up on him?"

"Of course not. Greg and I are meant to be together. I've known it ever since I was a little girl. Sure, I have to find a way to convince him, but it'll happen."

Heather settled for smiling in agreement, though she wondered if Patty could, indeed, pull off such a feat. Patty seemed to be so sure of it, but Greg was surprisingly determined to remain a bachelor. Well, whatever happened, Heather would stay out of it. She just made peace with Greg and smoothed things over for Mitch and Greg. The last thing she was going to do was stick her nose in where it didn't belong.

"You ready to eat?" Patty asked, nodding toward Gerty who was getting food for Leroy and Hannah while a couple of other children excitedly talked to her. "The poor woman's got her hands full."

Heather chuckled and headed over to Gerty, Patty quick to walk beside her. "Gerty's good with children. I've noticed all of them love her as if she were their own grandma."

"She's got a good heart, that's why."

"She does."

Heather thanked her good fortune for marrying into such a wonderful family. She didn't think her life could get any better than this. And there was nothing that was going to ruin it.

***

Three weeks later

"Boaz!"

From where he sat in the corner of the rowdy saloon, Boaz lifted his gaze from the empty beer mugs on his table. He furrowed his eyebrows as the familiar man approached him. "Andrew?" he slurred, trying to connect the man's face with his name. He knew he'd seen him, and recently, too. But for the life of him, he couldn't quite remember.

"Abe," the man said and walked around the table so he could pat Boaz on the back. Leaning down so he could lower his voice over the crowd, he added, "I haven't seen you for almost a month."

Boaz's face flushed with shame. "I try not to come here."

This time he'd even left town to avoid the temptation to drink. He'd had nothing but his horse, a bedroll, water and a sack of jerky. He thought being away from the saloon would help, but it hadn't. In fact, it was worse. All the quiet prairie did was remind him of how unhappy Hannah would be if she knew what he'd done with his life after her death. Nothing he did eased that heartache.

"You know," Abe began as he pulled up a chair and sat next to him, "if you had more money, you'd be able to get a real nice place. Get enough money, and you'd be set for life."

"No. I'd just waste it on liquor."

"Not if you found a man you could trust to keep your money in a safe place for you. Get your brother to save it aside. He can buy you a quaint house and arrange something at the mercantile where you can get food. Considering how good he's been to my sister, I bet he'd do good by you."

"Mitch is as good as they come," Boaz whispered. With a sigh, he drank the rest of the beer in his last mug.

"There you go!" Abe gave him another pat on the shoulder. "You win enough money, and you'd be set for life. If you choose to drink, you'd still have a roof over your head and food in your belly."

"That sounds nice." Really nice. "But I'm no good at poker."

"You lose all the time?"

"Well, no. Not all the time. I just never win enough to do more than get through a couple of days."

"Then today's your lucky day. I'm a great poker player."

Boaz frowned. "But you lost your sister in a game."

"Only because John Meyer was cheating."

"He was?"

"Course, he was." Abe leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I didn't catch on until the other day when I was watching him. He tucks good cards under his sleeves when no one is looking."

"You don't say." Perhaps Boaz shouldn't have been surprised. John wasn't the most savory character in the world, but Boaz thought even he wouldn't cheat at poker. "Mitch won the game against John, though."

"John wasn't prepared for him. You remember how much John wanted Mitch to go away, don't you?"

"I guess." He thought John wasn't all that reluctant, but since he'd been drunk, he could have missed something.

"If you don't have John at your table, you stand a good chance of winning enough money to make your dream come true. You know how well I do if no one is cheating. I almost cleared the table that night with everyone's money, yours included."

Boaz couldn't argue that. Abe had done surprisingly well.

"And look at what I won tonight." Abe's grin widened as he dug his hands into his pockets and dumped a bunch of coins on the table. "It was easy pickings. In fact, I have so much here, I don't know what to do with it all." He snapped his fingers. "I know what I'll do. Since you're my sister's brother-in-law, I'll give some to you." He shoved half of the coins in Boaz's direction.

Boaz nearly fell out of his seat. "But...But I don't deserve that much. I don't deserve any of it. I didn't win it, you did."

"Nonsense. We're kin through marriage. And if there's one thing I learned from my ma and pa, it's that we need to look out for each other. I want you to have it. Get new clothes, a good haircut, maybe even a shave. There's plenty here to do more than that when you're done. I tell you, I never earned this much when I did honest work. Know what I mean?" Abe chuckled and gave him a wink.

Glancing at the substantial amount of coins in front of him, Boaz asked, "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. I'll earn that much and more tomorrow night when I return." He stood up and stretched. "I'm beat. I'm calling it a night. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

Boaz watched as Abe sauntered out of the saloon. That was the second time Abe did something nice for him without asking for anything in return. The whole thing was too good to be true, wasn't it? He turned his gaze to the coins and studied them. If he accepted this gift, would it come at a price later on?

From the next table, he heard a couple of whistles. He looked up at the two men who stared at Abe's coins.

"We have room for another man, if you'd like to join the game," one of the men said, his eyes still on the coins.

"I'm afraid not tonight," Boaz replied and quickly put the coins in his pocket. "I'm going to bed." And tonight, he could afford a room at the inn. It'd been a long time since he had a good night's sleep in a real bed.

"Maybe tomorrow then."

"Maybe." Without another word, he left the saloon.
Chapter Fifteen

"Leroy, stop shoving that worm in your sister's face," Heather admonished from where she sat on the porch.

Leroy grunted but stepped away from Hannah who was crying. Hannah wiped her eyes then turned her attention back to her doll. He hopped down from the porch and put the worm on the ground, making Patty giggle.

Glancing at her friend who was in the chair next to her, Heather let out a long sigh. "I had no idea that brothers and sisters could fight so much."

"Oh, that's nothing," Gerty said as she opened the storm door and hobbled onto the porch to join Heather and Patty. She sat in the porch swing and motioned for Hannah to sit on her lap. Once Hannah was resting in Gerty's arms, Gerty chuckled. "I remember the way Mitch and Boaz used to go after each other. Those two were relentless. The only time I got any peace and quiet was when they were asleep or helping their pa with the chores."

"You must be joshing, Gerty," Heather began, turning her attention back to the shirt she was mending. "Mitch was born a perfect gentleman."

"Nice of you to think so, but children are children, no matter who they are." Gerty brushed back Hannah's hair and smiled at her. "But I promise that when Hannah and Leroy grow up, they'll be friends."

Patty crossed her arms and sighed wistfully. "I wish I had a brother or sister, someone I could have played with while growing up."

"My brother was already gone by the time I was born," Heather said as she pulled the thread through the cotton fabric. "If you ask me, it was the best thing he ever did for me. I hope he's gone to Canada by now."

"No one can blame you for saying that," Gerty replied.

"He hasn't been by again, has he?" Patty asked.

"No, thank goodness." Heather made a knot with the thread. It still irritated her to think her brother had the audacity to ask her for Mitch's money. She would never do anything for him until he straightened his life out, and there was little hope of that happening. "I'm just grateful I live here."

"We're grateful, too," Patty said. "You're my first real friend."

"I've seen you talk with other young ladies your age," Gerty replied.

"None of them were friends," Patty said. "I don't have trouble being amiable with most ladies, but I never felt I could have a heart-to-heart talk with any of them like I do with Heather."

Touched by Patty's confession, Heather smiled. She was ready to reply that she felt the same way when Hannah screamed, "He's eating a worm!"

Everyone's attention went to Leroy who was putting a wiggly worm into his mouth.

"I'll stop him," Patty said before Heather had a chance to get up. "There's no need for you to get up since you're tired."

"You're feeling tired in the middle of the day?" Gerty asked, her eyes wide in excitement. "Heather, are you in the family way?"

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that." Heather's face grew warm. There was no way she'd admit to anyone that she was tired because she spent most of the night enjoying Mitch when she should've be sleeping. She glanced at Patty who successfully got the worm away from a disappointed Leroy. Turning her gaze back to Gerty, she ventured, "It's just the relaxing summer day, especially with the breeze to cool things off." She could use that breeze to cool down her hot face right now!

"Well, that's a shame," Gerty replied. "I wouldn't mind another grandbaby."

"I'm sure Heather will give you one soon," Patty teased as she retrieved a ball. "Leroy, you want to throw or catch?"

He called out "catch" and ran into the yard, Patty following close behind.

"Which one would you like to have first?" Gerty asked. "A boy or a girl?"

Heather shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. I suppose a girl. I love making dresses. Of course, they're easier when a girl is Hannah's age, but even so, I always enjoyed making my own dresses."

"You should make Hannah's next dress then. She's about to outgrow the one she's got now."

"I'd love to." After a moment of thinking about the right dress, she said, "I think purple would be a good color on her. Don't you?"

"Purple would be lovely. She adores that color."

Heather smiled and smoothed the shirt in her lap. "I think I'm done with Mitch's shirt." When she glanced over at Gerty, she noted Gerty's serious expression. "What is it? Did I miss something?" She lifted the shirt and inspected it again.

"No, it's not that." She paused and looked at Hannah. "Sweetheart, will you play with your doll by the flower pot?"

Hannah shifted on the swing, nodded, and hopped down from the swing. She sat by the flowers, her doll cradled in her arms.

Heather rose to her feet and tucked the shirt under her arm before she went to the porch swing so she could sit next to Gerty. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

"Mitch won't tell me anything," Gerty replied. "I hate to come to you, but I can't stop worrying about Boaz. Is he alright?"

Her gaze went to Leroy and Hannah, and she wondered what Boaz had been like before his wife died. Had he been like Mitch? Happy? Hardworking? A man who'd never dream of getting drunk to wipe away his pain? She thought to ask Gerty, but it didn't seem like the right time, given the worried look on her face. She sighed. What could she tell her? Was it fair to tell her that her youngest son was drinking again, that he lost his job? But what good would it do to lie?

"It's not good," Gerty softly replied. "He's drinking again, isn't he?"

"I'm sorry, Gerty."

"There's no need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Maybe not, but I wish I could give you good news." From what she'd seen of Boaz in the little time she'd known him, he didn't strike her as a bad man. Just lonely. She suspected he felt trapped and didn't have the strength to get out of the cycle he'd been caught up in. She clasped her hand around Gerty's and squeezed it. "Maybe something will happen that will change his life around."

"I pray you're right." A tear fell from her eye and she leaned her head on Heather's shoulder. In a softer voice, she repeated, "I pray you're right."

***

A week later, Boaz counted his money in his hotel. He sorted through the coins on the table and debated how he could be wise with money this time. Abe had gone out of his way to help him out, and he vowed he wouldn't waste this gift. He'd wasted money in the past, but he wouldn't do it this time. He could do better. Before it seemed hopeless, but he had a substantial amount of money now.

I can do this. I can do this.

He closed his eyes and repeated the phrase a few more times before he opened them. This was a new start. This time he would save the money instead of gamble it. With a shaky breath, he stood up from his bed and collected the coins. He needed a safe place for them. Maybe Mitch would hold onto them. If he gave them to Mitch, they'd be sure to stay safe. He should give Mitch some for Leroy and Hannah.

Sitting back on the bed, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He should have thought of his children sooner. Yes, he would set aside some money for them. It was long overdue that he did something for them. He wiped his eyes and let out a shaky breath. There was so much of his wife in them. If only he could look at them and not remember the way she died in his arms after a difficult labor. He begged her to stay with him, to keep fighting, but in the end, he lost her. She would be heartbroken if she knew he couldn't care for their children.

Well, he'd rectify that, and he'd start by giving Mitch money to give them what they needed. His emotions settled and he slipped the money into his sack. He stood up, this time with determination, and left the hotel. He'd make another attempt at having supper at Mitch's. Maybe this time he'd be able to stay through the whole thing. And maybe Mitch would finally be pleased with him.

Boaz made it halfway to the livery stable when Abe called out to him. Surprised, he turned to face him. "Afternoon, Abe. How've you been doing?"

"Good. Real good." He pulled on his suspenders and let them snap back into place. "Won me more poker games last night."

"Did you?"

"Yep. Got double on what I gave you last week."

Boaz's jaw dropped. "How did you do it?"

"Don't know exactly. Just had a feel for the game, I suppose."

Apparently so. Besides John Meyer, Boaz couldn't think of a single person who could win so many hands. Scratching the back of his neck, he asked, "Have you played with John again?"

"That Meyer fellow?"

He nodded.

"Not since that night my sister married your brother. Learned my lesson on that one. So, where you going?"

"Oh, I thought I'd see my brother."

"I envy you. I'd love to see my sister, but she won't have anything to do with me. I'm afraid I'll never get a second chance. You know, to be on good terms with her. I'd give anything to do so." He tipped his hat lower over his eyes and cleared his throat. "Do what you can to mend things with your brother, Boaz. There's nothing more important than family."

"Maybe you should come with me," Boaz offered. "If you tell Heather what you told me, I think she'll forgive you."

"I don't know. What I did was the worst thing a brother can do to his sister."

"We've all done things we regret."

"Maybe so, but if I talk to her, I want to make amends the right way. I want to return Mitch the money he gave me that night he married my sister. But to do that, I need more money."

"Don't you already have enough from your winnings last night?" If he recalled the amount correctly, then Abe should have more than necessary.

"I promised a preacher I'd give my winnings to some widows and orphans." He shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. "All my money is spoken for. Thought it might be good to give to a worthy cause."

"Oh." Boaz thought about the amount he had. "I don't have enough to help you out." Which was a shame since Abe had gone out of his way to help him. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do nothing wrong. I gave you that money as a gift, cause we're kin and kin look out for each other."

"Then I should find a way to help you make amends with your sister."

He rubbed his chin and gave a slight nod. "Maybe there is a way you can help me. That is, if you really wanna."

"I do!"

"Well...I wouldn't mind having a right-hand man at the poker table tonight. It's nice to have a friend to talk to."

Boaz shifted uncomfortably as he considered what Abe was asking. Could he sit at a poker table and not give into the temptation to play a game?

"Course, if you don't want to help me..."

He winced at the hurt tone in Abe's voice. "No. I want to help you." Taking a deep breath, he decided he could avoid playing poker as long as he thought of his children, his mother, and Mitch. "I'll help."

Abe grinned and patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Boaz. You're a real friend, you know that?"

It'd been a long time since someone smiled at Boaz as if he was proud of him. Abe's confidence in him lifted his spirits, and for the first time in two years, Boaz felt good about himself. He would help reunite Abe with his sister. Finally, he would do something worthwhile with his life.
Chapter Sixteen

Heather stirred in her sleep as she became aware of the frantic knocking at the front door. Beside her, Mitch got up from the bed and threw on his clothes. She blinked back the sleep from her eyes and picked up his pocket watch from the nightstand by the bed.

In the moonlight, she saw the time and frowned. "Who'd be coming here at one in the morning?"

He glanced her way as he buttoned his pants. "I have a nagging suspicion it's Elliot."

"Who's Elliot?"

"My brother's friend." He tucked in his shirt and ran out of the room before she could ask him anything else.

Curious, she slipped out of the bed and went to the open window. If she was quiet enough, she could make out what people were saying from outside. Ignoring the chirping of the crickets, she heard an anxious male voice from the porch.

"You got to come," he begged. "He's about to lose everything."

"No, Elliot," came Mitch's calm, resolute tone. "If you want to bail him out, do it, but I'm done."

"You know I can't. I barely make enough to provide for my family."

"Then Boaz is out of luck."

"But he's your brother."

"And I've done him no favors by running to his aid. He's a grown man. It's time he acted like one." After a moment of silence, he added, "I'm sorry."

Then the door softly closed.

Heather hurried back to the bed and settled back in it. Heavy footsteps trudged up the staircase, and Mitch entered their bedroom, head bowed, shoulders slumped. "Mitch?" she softly asked, uncertain of whether or not it was wise to talk to him when he was in a solemn mood.

"I've helped Boaz too many times in the past," he said as he shut their bedroom door. "Except, it hasn't been help. All I've done is prevented him from taking responsibility for his own decisions." His gaze met hers, and in his eyes, she saw that he was pleading with her to understand why he told Elliot no. "He needs to dig himself out of the hole this time."

As much as her heart ached for Boaz, Mitch and Gerty, she knew he was right. "I know, Mitch. Sometimes love is doing what's hard but necessary."

He nodded and removed his clothes in a slow, methodical pace that told her he couldn't stop wondering if he'd just made the wrong decision.

"You did the right thing," she told him. "He'll never learn to stand on his own as long as you're taking care of things for him."

He returned to the bed and slid under the covers. He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "If I did the right thing, why does it hurt?"

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she gave him a light squeeze. "Because it's hard to watch people we love suffer, even from their own decisions."

He released his breath and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. A silent hour passed before they fell back to sleep.

***

As Heather dressed the next morning, she worried what kind of trouble Boaz had gotten into. While she contemplated asking Mitch, she surmised that either Mitch didn't know and couldn't tell her or that she was better off not knowing. She'd spent enough time in the saloon to know that unsavory men hung out there. Most of them were desperate, and desperate men seemed to be capable of doing just about anything. With a shiver, she finished dressing and headed downstairs to help Gerty with breakfast before the children woke up.

When she got to the kitchen, she caught sight of Mitch shaking his head as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Next to him, his mother held onto his arm and gave him a pleading look.

"What else did Elliot say?" she asked.

"Nothing. That was all, Ma." He shook her hand off his arm. "I told you I wasn't going to run to town to bail Boaz out of whatever trouble he gets into from now on."

"But he's your brother."

After he gulped down the coffee, he slammed the cup on the table. "He's a gambling drunk! He can't hold onto two cents without wasting it at the poker table or on liquor."

"It's because he's living in sorrow."

"It's been two years since Hannah died. Two years. And he has two children he won't even take care of because that liquor is more important to him than they are."

Gerty wiped the tears from her eyes with her apron. "But Mitch, he lost so much. Hannah was his whole world."

"You don't think I hated losing her when she married him instead of me?"

"Well, you got Heather."

"Yes. Now. And I love her. But Heather wasn't here back then. It hurt when I watched Hannah marry Boaz instead of me, but I didn't drown my heartache in alcohol. I pressed on. He needs to do the same."

"You were always stronger than him."

"Well, it's time he learned to get strong. You really want him to be dependent on me for the rest of his life? He's a grown man, and it's time he acted like one."

She gripped his shirt and cried harder. "What if he lost his horse? What if they beat him up? What if," her voice trembled, "what if he's dead?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and gently removed her hands from his shirt. "Whatever happened to him last night was his own doing," he softly replied. "He's not a little boy anymore. You can't stop bad things from happening to him."

His mother let out a loud sob before she buried her face in her apron.

As Mitch turned to leave the kitchen, his gaze met Heather's, and he sighed.

Taking that as her cue, she stepped into the room and clasped her hand around his. "I'll get breakfast ready while you take care of the chores."

He squeezed her hand. "Alright. I'll be back later."

After he left, Heather turned to Gerty, unsure of what to say. The poor woman was heartbroken. Heather closed the space between them and gave her a hug, letting Gerty cry for as long as she needed to.

***

Boaz groaned. His head hurt. Worse, his sides and face hurt. He struggled to recall the events from the night before, but it was a blur. The last clear thing he remembered was sitting next to Abe at a poker table. The beer kept coming, and he lost count of how much he drank. At one point, he joined the game and was hopeful because he was doing well, thanks to Abe. But something bad must have happened at some point. He was in pain. A hangover was something he was used to. The aches in his body was a different matter.

He turned his head to the side and winced. The side of his head hurt. Reaching up, he touched it, noting the matted hair that had something slightly sticky in it. Forcing his eyes open, he waited until his vision cleared so he could see what sticky substance was on his fingers. Blood. He grimaced and touched his head again. He briefly had a recollection of someone smashing a bottle over his ear. Was he in a brawl? He had to have been.

Someone moaned, sounding just as awful as he felt. Gingerly, he rolled to his side so he could see who it was. It took him a moment to recognize Abe since he was lying on his stomach, his bruised face turned slightly away from him. Using all his strength, Boaz got on his hands and knees and crawled across the alley until he reached him.

"A..." He cleared his throat and swallowed a couple times to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth. It didn't work completely, but at least his tongue felt better. "Abe?"

Abe didn't answer.

He reached out and tapped Abe's shoulder. "Abe?" he asked in a louder voice.

After what seemed like an eternity, Abe opened his eyes. "Where am I?"

"We're in the alley behind the saloon. Can you sit up?"

Grunting, Abe struggled to sit. "Guess so. What happened last night?"

"I don't remember." He sat against the wall and winced when a sharp pain ran up his side. He was going to have these bruises for weeks. "I think we lost." Something wiggled in his mouth, and it took him a moment to realize it was one of his back teeth. "And not just money." He spit his tooth out and flung it across the alley. "I can't believe this happened." Never once in all the times he'd gone to the saloon had he ever been as bad off as he was now.

"That no good Eugene was cheating," Abe growled and clutched his sides. "He sent his men to take care of us when I figured out what he was doing. Miserable low life. Just cause he can't win on his merits, it doesn't give him a right to cheat us honest players."

"Is that what happened?"

"Yep. It's all coming back to me now."

"It's a blur to me."

"You drank more than me. That's why."

Boaz nodded and rested his head against the wall.

"We ran into some bad luck last night," Abe continued, touching the bruise on his cheek. He grimaced. "They got us good. Not that there was much of a contest. Four of them and two of us. We should be grateful we're even alive."

"True." He closed his eyes, willing his dizziness aside. After a long moment of silence, he felt better and opened his eyes. "Abe?"

"Hmm?"

"What kind of life is this?"

Abe leaned forward and retrieved his dirty hat. He plopped it on his head. "It's our life."

"But is this the kind of life we should want? I'm not happy being this way."

"I wouldn't be living like this had Eugene played honestly last night. You know I wanted to give Heather and your brother money to make amends. Now I won't get my chance."

Boaz thought of Mitch. "I don't think my brother wants money. I think he just wants me to clean up my act and be the man I used to be. Same is probably true with your sister. I don't think you need money to get her forgiveness."

"No?"

"No. What good is money anyway? Seems to me that if you're not using it for shelter, food, or clothing, it doesn't do much good. Your sister and my brother have everything they need. A little more won't do anything else. I thought it'd be a nice gesture to offer them some of that money you gave me, but now that I think about it, I think they would rather have us stop living the lives we've been living."

Abe scanned his body which was covered in bruises and grime. "You might be right."

Encouraged, Boaz continued, "Why don't we go straight? No more gambling, no more drinking. Get good jobs. Find a place to live. We could share an apartment to save on expenses." And maybe if he had someone to go through the struggle of changing his life with, he'd succeed this time. "We could help each other when one of us gets the urge to go back to drinking or gambling. No one but you understands how hard it is to resist that kind of temptation."

"Maybe," he slowly replied, studying his boots. "I'd sure feel better about doing that if I knew my sister forgave me." His gaze met Boaz's. "She won't give me a chance to say sorry though. Not if it's just me anyway."

"What do you mean, if it's just you?"

Letting out a long sigh, Abe shrugged. "She doesn't trust me. I don't blame her. Wouldn't trust myself either if I were her, but..."

"But what?"

Abe studied him then shook his head. "No."

Interested, Boaz straightened up and focused on him. "What is it? Maybe I can help."

"Well...maybe... But it's not right to use you that way."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Use me how?"

"I was going to suggest you talk to Heather, tell her you have something for your children. Then ask her to meet you somewhere. And when she comes, I'll be there and try to get her forgiveness."

"I don't see what's wrong with that."

"I'd be asking you to lie for me. She'd think she was doing something for you, but she'd really be doing something for me."

"All you'd be doing is apologizing. I don't see the harm in that."

Abe scratched his jaw. "Maybe there is no harm in it."

"Sure, there's not. And if she forgives you, you'd want to change?"

"Of course. With her forgiving me, I'd have a reason to change."

And if Abe was going to turn his life around, then Boaz would have someone to go through the struggle with. He'd also be able to help Abe overcome his struggles as well. Together, they'd pull through everything and be all the better for it. "Alright," Boaz agreed. "I'll lead Heather to you."
Chapter Seventeen

Heather picked up the damp shirt from the pile of clean laundry and hung it on the clothesline. Of all the chores she did, she hated this one the most. But at least today she only had to wash the clothes instead of the bed sheets. Once the shirt was securely on the line, she twisted her hair and rolled it into a bun. That was better. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she leaned down and picked up Hannah's dress.

She heard a horse neigh and looked up from the basket. A man was riding toward the house. There was something familiar about him. She quickly hung up the dress then stepped around the clothesline. Holding her hand over her eyes, she studied the rider. After a minute, she realized it was Boaz. Excited, she rushed to the house. Gerty would be relieved to know he was coming!

When she ran into the kitchen, Gerty looked up from the table where Leroy and Hannah were eating. "Is something wrong?" Gerty asked, rising from her seat.

"No, I don't think so. Can you come here?" Heather hesitated to say Boaz was coming with his children in the room. Given how things were between them and their father, it seemed best to keep his arrival private. She waited until Gerty followed her to the parlor then whispered, "Boaz is here."

Gerty gasped in surprise and pressed her hands to her heart. "He is?"

"Yes. Do you think I should find Mitch?"

"No. Mitch is out in the field. He could be anywhere. There's no sense in troubling him, just in case Boaz needs something." She motioned to the kitchen. "Get him some coffee and take it out to him. Leroy and Hannah just started eating their lunch, so they'll be fine for a while."

Heather nodded and hurried to obey her. While she was in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee for him, Leroy stopped eating his sandwich and asked, "Who's here?"

She set the coffee pot on the cook stove and studied her nephew and niece. Did she tell them it was their father or lie? She clasped the cup in her hands, quickly weighing the pros and cons of both options. Finally, she said, "I don't know if I can say, Leroy. I better wait and see what your grandma says, alright?"

"Alright."

As he turned his attention back to the sandwich, she glanced at Hannah who was eating at a slower pace than him. "You both will be good until your grandma or I come back?"

"Course we will," Leroy replied.

"Watch your sister?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Satisfied, she left the kitchen. "Gerty?"

When she realized Gerty wasn't in the house, she went to the porch and saw the woman talking to Boaz who was getting down from the horse. Careful to hold the cup firmly so the coffee wouldn't spill out of it, she made her way down the porch steps and across the lawn. She didn't recognize the horse, so it couldn't be his. She wondered who it belonged to but didn't have long to wait to find the answer.

"I borrowed it," Boaz told Gerty as Heather got within hearing distance.

"But what about your horse?" Gerty asked him.

Looking down at the ground, he kicked at a rock and shrugged. "I lost it...in a game."

"No, Boaz." She placed her hand on his arm, her tone soft.

"I'm afraid so, Ma." He returned his gaze to hers. "I'm sorry. I keep messing up and can't seem to do anything right."

"You came here," she replied, wiping a tear from her eye. "That's a step in the right direction."

"It is, Boaz," Heather added. "Would you like some coffee?"

"I wouldn't mind a cup." He accepted it and drank the coffee. When he was done, he handed it back to her. "It was real good. Thank you."

"Would you like some more?" she offered, surprised he was that thirsty. "Or we could get you some water."

"Why don't you come in and sit for a bit? Maybe get something to eat?" his mother asked. "Your children are in the kitchen. I'm sure they'd love to see you."

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Heather added, recalling how awkward it'd been when he came to supper. Looking at Gerty, she said, "We don't want to push him before he's ready."

"You're right, Heather." Gerty patted Boaz's arm. "We'll take it one visit at a time."

He glanced from his mother to Heather then to the house. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Alright. I'll go in and say hi to them."

"You will?" Heather asked, surprised.

"They're my children. I haven't been a good father. It's hard to see them, and the longer I go without seeing them, the harder it gets."

"I understand. Maybe we should bring them out here. Then you can say a quick hello and go."

"That's a good idea," Gerty said. "I can get them."

"Alright. I can do that," he agreed.

As she hurried toward the house, Heather ran her thumbs along the cup, not sure what she could talk to Boaz about. She didn't know him very well, though she certainly sympathized with his situation and wanted nothing more than to see him heal from the pain in his past.

"Mitch is mad at me, isn't he?" Boaz wondered, his voice hinting that he already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

She hesitated to respond but knew it wouldn't do him any good to avoid the question. "Yes."

His shoulders slumped. "I don't blame him. He's given me more than enough chances. I wish I wasn't so weak."

"Mitch is trying to do what's best for you. He wants to help you, Boaz. Really, he does."

"I know. He was right not to bail me out. I don't deserve any of the kindness you, Mitch, or Ma have shown me."

"You're not a bad man," she assured him, her heart aching by how much he detested himself. "You just need to believe in yourself."

He shook his head. "You're a good lady. I'm glad Mitch married you." Rubbing the back of his neck with his bandana, he said, "I would like to get something for Leroy and Hannah. Nothing big. I can't afford much of anything."

"Boaz, all you have to do is say hi. You don't need to get them a gift."

"I want to. I was thinking of buying a piece of candy for them. One for Leroy and the other for Hannah."

"That'd be sweet. I'm sure they'd like that."

"I don't know when I can come back here. The man I borrowed the horse from isn't from town. He's on his way south. Could you get the candy next time you're in town?"

She didn't think Mitch would mind that. "I can do that. Where are you staying?"

"At the McCarthy Inn. Room 8."

"Alright. I'll come by next time I'm in town."

"Do you know when that will be?"

"Well," she began, thinking of when Mitch said he planned to go to town again, "I think Mitch wants to go to the post office and mercantile next Monday."

"Can you come by then?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, Heather."

Gerty called out to Boaz, so Heather turned and smiled at Leroy and Hannah who came up to them, clinging to Gerty's skirt with an uncertain look on their faces.

Boaz offered them a tentative smile. "Hi, Leroy," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "Hannah."

The children stared up at him for a moment before Leroy gave a slight nod. "Hi, Pa."

Hannah stepped a little closer to Gerty but kept peering up at her father.

"They're doing real good, Boaz," his mother told him. "Leroy has a good friend, Matthew. He also rode a horse the other day. And Hannah, here is speaking more words every day." Looking at the girl, she chuckled. "You wouldn't know it since she's so quiet right now."

"She's just nervous," Heather said, smiling encouragingly at Hannah then at Leroy. "Your pa is a good man, and he very much wanted to see you."

Leroy returned his gaze to Boaz.

"He has to go back to town," Heather continued, picking up on the unease between Boaz and his children. "But he'll be coming out again, and maybe at that time, he'd like to join us for supper?" She turned to him.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, I'll come out for supper."

Gerty let out a gasp of surprise and clasped her hands. "Oh, thank you, Boaz! You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

"It's wonderful," Heather agreed. "What's your favorite pie, Boaz?"

He wrapped the bandana around his hand and shifted from one foot to the other. "Any kind is good. I'm not picky."

"He never was," Gerty added. "Put anything in front of him, and he'll eat it. It's a good trait if a man is easy on the cook."

"We'll make you something special," Heather told him. "We'll make arrangements for you to come to supper when I see you in town. Mitch and I can pick you up if you can't borrow a horse."

"Alright." He glanced at his hands where he was still fiddling with the bandana and chuckled. "I should be wearing this around my neck instead of fooling with it."

"There's no law against holding a bandana," Gerty replied.

With another glance at his children, Boaz put it around his neck. "I'll see you again. I promise."

Heather gave Gerty a smile as he went to the horse and hopped on it.

"I think he'll do it this time," Gerty whispered, hugging Leroy and Hannah. "You got a good pa. He's been through a lot, but the good Lord has seen him through it. Now, go on and play on the porch." While the children obeyed, she turned to Heather. "Mitch was right. All Boaz needed was to face the consequences of his decisions on his own."

"Mitch will be glad to hear Boaz was here and is doing better."

"He will. He felt so guilty for not going to town to help him, and now he doesn't have to."

Gerty placed her arm around Heather's shoulders and wiped the tears from her eyes. "What a wonderful surprise."

"It is," Heather replied as she watched Boaz ride off the property.
Chapter Eighteen

"I don't know," Mitch said as he pulled the wagon up to the mercantile. "Do you really think it's a good idea to see Boaz?"

"I'm only getting two pieces of candy," Heather replied, grabbing her purse.

He set the brake then turned to her. "Why can't he bring candy out to our place?"

"Because he doesn't have his own horse anymore and he doesn't know when he can borrow a horse."

"But you're going to invite him for supper. You said he promised he'd come out as long as we picked him up. Why can't he give the candy to his children then?"

She couldn't deny he made a good point. "Yes, you're right, Mitch, but wouldn't it be nice if we could go home with the candy today?" When he sighed in exasperation, she placed her hand over his. "I know it's not much, and I know it doesn't mean he'll actually come by for supper. But this is a small thing he's asking, isn't it?"

"I don't have a good feeling about this. Why couldn't he meet us here at the mercantile? Why does it have to be at the inn?"

"Maybe he's ashamed to go out in public?"

"Something tells me there's more to this than he's telling."

"What could it be?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like something Boaz would do. He's never asked me to pick up candy for his children before."

"Maybe that's because you're not a woman," she ventured, thinking there couldn't be any other reason why he'd make such a request. "Women are more likely to think of giving children a treat than men are."

He shook his head. "I doubt it. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm going to come with you."

Her stomach clenched. "Do you think he'd hurt me?"

"No. Boaz wouldn't hurt anyone."

"So why are you worried about him giving me candy for Leroy and Hannah?"

"I don't know, Heather," he replied. "But I'm going with you. It won't hurt to be cautious."

She couldn't argue his reasoning. She had expected to go by herself to get the candy, but this was just as well. Maybe it was even what he needed. "Mitch," she touched his shoulder as he turned to get down from the wagon, "will you give Boaz another chance? I don't mean that you have to help him. I just want you to talk to him without assuming he's not going to change."

Though he didn't seem to like her request, he nodded. "Alright. I'll do it."

She smiled in appreciation and let go of his shoulder. After he got down from the wagon, he walked over to her and helped her down. She held his hands for a couple moments and squeezed them. There was so much she wanted to say, about how good he'd been to his brother and how much she appreciated everything he'd done for her, but she wasn't sure how to express everything in her heart. So she settled for kissing his cheek. He smiled and kissed her hands, a silent indication that he understood what she was trying to convey.

"We'll pick up the candy after we get what we need from the mercantile," he said.

He took her by the arm and led her into the store where they bought the things they needed. When they were done, he drove her to the McCarthy Inn.

As he pulled the wagon to a stop, he asked, "What room is he in?"

"Eight."

"Alright." He set the brake and got out of the wagon. After he helped her down, he reached under the seat.

Curious, she peered around him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting this." He pulled out a Colt .45 and checked it for bullets.

"Oh, Mitch, he's your brother!"

"It's not for him."

"Then who's it for?"

"I don't know yet." Closing the chamber shut, he turned to her. He took a step toward the inn and paused when he noticed she didn't follow him. "Heather?"

"I can't go there with you holding a gun. What is Boaz going to think when he sees that?"

"What he thinks isn't my concern. There's something wrong with this whole thing. I'm not taking any chances."

"Could you at least conceal it?" What would Boaz think if his brother greeted him with a gun? They were trying to help him build a relationship with his children, not scare him.

He rolled his eyes but placed the gun in his pocket. "Better?"

"Much." At least now it wouldn't look like Mitch came to shoot him. Clutching her purse with both hands, she prayed this wouldn't be a disaster. All they had to do was pick up some candy. Then they could return home. "Alright, let's go."

Together, they headed for room eight. She glanced at Mitch's pocket and hoped Boaz wouldn't notice the gun. Or maybe if he did notice it, he wouldn't think anything of it. She tried to recall any men she'd seen with guns in their pockets, but none came to mind. When they reached the room, Mitch knocked on the door. As Mitch's hand settled on the gun, she shot him a 'don't pull it out of your pocket' look, but he kept his gaze on the door.

The door opened, and after a moment's hesitation, Boaz smiled at them. "Hi, Heather, Mitch."

"Hi, Boaz," she replied. "Mitch wanted to come and see how you're doing."

"It's good to see you," he told Mitch.

Mitch examined the small room. "What's going on, Boaz?"

"Oh, I asked Heather if she'd stop by and pick up the candy I bought for Leroy and Hannah."

He turned to retrieve the items off the dresser when someone came up behind Mitch and struck him across the back of the head. Before Heather had time to scream, the attacker put his hand over her mouth and pushed her into the room.

"Get Mitch and bring him in," the attacker growled.

Heather recognized Abe's voice, and her heart raced in a mixture of fear and dread. What was he going to do?

"What are you doing?" Boaz demanded, looking between her and Mitch. "You said you only wanted to apologize to her."

"Get him in!" Holding her against his side with one arm, Abe lifted a gun and motioned to Mitch. "You get him in here or I'll shoot you."

She tried to pull Abe's hand off of her mouth, but his grip only tightened.

Abe cocked the gun. "Now!"

Boaz jerked and ran over to Mitch. Once he had him pulled safely into the room, Abe kicked the door shut. Heather elbowed Abe in the gut, but he kept his hold on her.

"Do that again and I shoot your husband," Abe warned, his voice gruff in her ear.

Tears formed in her eyes, but she remained still so she wouldn't aggravate her brother.

Boaz leaned over Mitch and checked his pulse. Looking up at Abe, he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm doing what I have to. Now tie him up," Abe ordered and backed up, dragging Heather with him. "Tie him to this chair."

"But—"

"You weren't supposed to bring him here. I only wanted Heather."

Boaz's frantic gaze went to her then back to Abe. "Mitch wasn't there when I asked her to come here." He shook his head. "You lied to me. You weren't going to tell her you're sorry!"

"Hmm," Abe replied, sarcasm thick in his voice. "A dishonest man telling a lie. Imagine that." He kicked an unconscious Mitch in the side until he rolled over. "Now, tie him up or I'm going to put a hole in his head."

Heather tried to yell at her brother to stop hurting her husband, but his hand remained firm over her mouth. She didn't know if she should try to get away from Abe or not. She knew he intended to take her out of town and use her as a pawn at the poker games. As much as it sickened her to go with him, did she dare risk angering him? If he was willing to knock her husband unconscious and kick him, he might kill him, too. She blinked her eyes and tears slid down her cheeks.

Abe kicked Mitch again, this time using more force than before.

"Fine, I'll do it!" Boaz quickly put his hands under his brother's arms and pulled him up until he was on the chair. "I don't have any rope."

Abe groaned. "Do I have to do everything?" He lowered his gun and shook something off his arm which landed on the floor with a loud thud. "There. Take some of my rope." He pointed it at Mitch's temple. "Do it!"

Boaz worked in silence, and all Heather could do was watch in mounting dread as her husband was bound to the chair. She kept thinking she should be able to do something to stop this horrible thing from happening. But what?

To her surprise, Boaz whirled around with Mitch's gun in his hand and pointed it at Abe. She whimpered and tried to squirm out of Abe's arms. If she could get away from him, Boaz could shoot him! She stomped on her brother's foot, and he let her go. A shot rang in the air as she fell to the floor. Did Boaz get him? She rolled over so she could see what happened and cried out in horror when she saw that Abe had been the one who shot Boaz who was clutching his wounded arm. The gun fell from Boaz's hand, and Abe caught it before it hit the floor.

Abe pointed one gun at her and another at Boaz. "A dog's smarter than you," he muttered to Boaz then strode over to Heather. "You get up right now or I'm going to make you a widow and kill that stupid brother-in-law of yours."

Despite her tears, she managed to get to her feet. She wiped her eyes, but more tears came, blurring her vision.

"Get in that corner," Abe barked, gesturing to the corner furthest from the doorway.

Stumbling over the edge of the night table, she made it to the corner and wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she had the courage to do something other than stand there and cry while her brother tied Boaz in a chair.

"You don't have to do this, Abe," Boaz pleaded, wincing as blood dribbled down his arm. "It's not too late to do the right thing."

Abe pushed Boaz's chair to the back of Mitch's and tied the chairs together. Then he shoved a handkerchief in Boaz's mouth. "I am doing the right thing. I'll return Heather when I'm done with her, but until then, I need her." He went to the window and pushed aside the small curtain. With a nod, he set the curtain back in place and approached Heather. Though she cowered from him, he grabbed her by the arm. "Say one word to anyone, and you'll regret it. Understand?"

Mitch groaned and turned his head to the side. Abe stormed over to him and whacked him across the head with the butt of his gun, successfully knocking him unconscious again. Heather let out a scream, and he slapped his hand over her mouth.

"Not a single word," he hissed.

She caught sight of blood trickling down the side of Mitch's face and tried to scream again but his hand muffled her efforts to get help.

"He's not dead," Abe growled. "He won't die either. I just need a head start, that's all. As I told Boaz, I'll send you back here."

There was no way she could believe him. If she learned nothing else from being with her brother, it was how untrustworthy he was.

"Now, stop crying and be quiet." He removed his hand from her mouth. "Think you can handle that?"

She used the sleeve of her dress to wipe the tears from her eyes then glared at him. "I hate you."

"Aw, Heather. Is that any way to talk to your own flesh and blood?"

Before she could respond, he urged her to the door. She looked over her shoulder. Mitch's head was bowed and his shoulders slumped, indicating he was still unconscious. Boaz was struggling to free himself of the ropes while trying to spit the handkerchief out of his mouth.

"He's going to the Yukon to get gold," she quickly told Boaz, hoping it was enough for him and Mitch to find her. They'd search for her, and there could only be so many towns on the way to Canada.

"Hush!" Abe opened the door and shoved her outside.

She stumbled but managed to regain her balance. A couple of people looked in her direction, and she considered running to them for help when she felt the sharp stab of a pistol in her back. Abe pressed it deeper, and she turned her gaze away from them.

She got his warning. Though she wasn't sure if he'd shoot her or not, she wasn't about to take her chances. Mitch and Boaz would come for her. She'd have to take comfort in that. Releasing a shaky breath, she let Abe take her to his horse, hoping it wouldn't be long before Mitch woke up.
Chapter Nineteen

"Mitch? Mitch? Please wake up."

Mitch groaned. Something wet and sticky left a trail down the side of his face and neck, but it was the shooting pain in his temple that made him wince.

"Mitch?"

Mitch grunted as his body was shaken. He tried to move to stop the person who was bothering him, but ropes bound his arms and legs to a wooden chair.

"Mitch? Are you awake yet?"

This time when he was shaken, he realized the person was shaking the chair, not him directly. "Stop it," he snapped and groaned again when the sharp pain in his temple increased.

"Sorry."

The chair went still, much to his relief. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He opened his eyes, his vision a bit blurry. After blinking a few times, the images around him cleared and he could focus. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Boaz was in a chair behind him and that their chairs had been tied together.

"What happened?" he asked Boaz as he tried to work his arms and legs loose from the ropes.

"Mitch, I'm so sorry," Boaz said, tears in his voice. "If I had known, I never would have asked Heather to come here."

At that, Mitch stiffened. Heather! He'd come here with her. He searched the small room for her. "Where is she?"

"He took her."

"He? Who?"

"Her brother. I thought he wanted to apologize to her. I had no idea he was going to take her."

"Take her where?" Mitch yelled, struggling harder to free himself from the ropes.

"Canada. The Yukon. She said he's going to get some gold."

Mitch uttered a curse word that he never thought he'd say and strained all of his limbs against the ropes with as much force as he could muster.

"My arm! Mitch, you're making my arm worse," Boaz cried out. "He shot me in the arm."

Growing still, Mitch scanned the room for something—anything—they might use to get out of the ropes. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing they could use. He swore again and stomped the floor. How he could have been so stupid? He had expected an attack from the front. He should have known one might come from behind instead. Abe had been lying in wait the whole time. Why didn't he see it coming?

"I can't believe I was that stupid," he muttered.

"I've been thinking the same thing," Boaz agreed. "I should have known there was a reason he insisted I ask Heather to come here instead of meeting me at the mercantile."

Finally focusing on what his brother was saying, Mitch asked, "What did you say?"

"I've made such a mess of everything," he replied, the tears coming back in his voice. "Ever since I let Hannah die, I can't do anything right."

"You didn't let Hannah die. Her body just couldn't handle the strain of childbirth. There was nothing you could've done to change that. No one blames you for her death."

"But I just sat there and watched it happen. All I could do was hold her while she bled to death."

"And what could you have done? You couldn't stop her from bleeding. Boaz, you can't spend the rest of your life going over that day. Hannah loved you, and you loved her. Do you think she'd want you trapped in guilt for something you had no control over?" Mitch let out a long sigh. "She wasn't that way, Boaz. You have to let the past go. If you truly want to honor her memory, you have to forgive yourself and move on."

Though Mitch couldn't see his brother, he heard his sobs increase and felt his body shake. "I'm so sorry, Mitch. I never meant to bring harm to Heather."

After a long moment, he finally said, "I know. I knew something wasn't right, but I knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

Once his tears subsided, he took a deep breath. "We'll find her and get her back. I promise you I'll help you if it's the last thing I do."

There was no denying he could use his brother's help. Between the two of them, they might get to her before any harm came to her. "Abe's taking her to Canada?"

"That's what she said."

Scanning the room once more for something they could use to free themselves of the rope, he said, "Then we need to head up north."

"Abe lost all his money in a game the other night, so he'll need to play poker soon to make up for that."

"You think he'll go to a saloon this week?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Then we'll need to search out the nearest saloons north of here," Mitch said.

"I can borrow a horse. We'd do better if we separated."

"Good point. But you don't need to borrow a horse. I'll let you have one of mine. I have two of them tied up out front. As soon as we get out of here, we can get them."

"I'll need a doctor first, Mitch. When I grabbed your gun to shoot Abe, he got me in the arm instead."

He nodded. "We'll get you to a doctor." Once he decided they weren't going to be able to free themselves of the rope, he added, "If we work together, maybe we can scoot our chairs to the door. Can you wiggle your chair over there?"

"I think so. Want to try it?"

"We got nothing to lose."

"Alright. Ready?"

"Yep."

The two used their bodies to scoot their chairs toward the door, though their progress didn't go as fast as Mitch would have liked. Halfway to the door, someone knocked and asked if everything was alright.

"No!" Mitch called out. "We need help!"

The door opened, and two men walked in, each holding a gun. "A lady said she heard a gunshot come from this room."

"Yes, sir," Mitch replied and nodded toward Boaz. "He's been shot in the arm."

The older man hurried over to Boaz to inspect his arm while the other one asked, "Who did this?"

"Abe Curtiss," Mitch replied. "He's my brother-in-law. He," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "kidnapped my wife."

"I'll get the sheriff. We saw a man ride out of here in a hurry with a lady who looked like she'd been crying."

Mitch helped the man who was cutting into the rope to loosen them. "Was she wearing a green dress?"

"Yes, she was."

"That's my wife then. Did you see which direction they went?"

"Northwest."

Good. Now Mitch had a good lead.

"You go on ahead and find her, Mitch," Boaz said. "I'll go as soon as I can."

Mitch rose from the chair and shoved the rope aside. "I'll leave my horse for you out front."

"We'll need one of you to talk to the sheriff," the man, who removed the rest of the rope from Boaz, said.

"I'll do that while the doctor tends to me," Boaz offered. "Go on and get Heather, Mitch."

Thanking his brother and the men, Mitch hurried out of the room.

***

Three days later

Heather was tired and hungry. The jerky Abe had given her was barely enough to sustain her, and she hadn't slept well. Twice, she'd tried to run away, but he caught her both times. At this point, she barely had enough energy to fight him. They were on the edge of some town, and he took her off the horse so he could put the cloak over her.

"I don't want to do this," Heather pleaded, though she knew it wouldn't do any good.

"I won't let anyone actually take you if I lose." He buttoned the cloak then pulled the hood far enough over her face so no one could get a good look at her.

"And how are you going to stop that from happening?" she snapped. "You weren't able to do that before."

"That husband of yours didn't let me take care of John Meyer. If he had, I would have gotten you back. No harm would've come to you."

"You're a horrible man, Abe Curtiss. You would've let John soil me then throw me back to you so you could bet me in another game."

He gasped and pressed his hand to his chest. "I can't believe you think that."

"Anyone who'd steal his sister from her husband won't stop at anything to get what he wants, and all you want is money. No one else matters to you."

He leaned close enough to her so that their noses were touching. "That's not very nice of you to say to your kin, Heather."

"And it's not nice of you to do what you're doing."

For a moment, she thought he was going to slap her, but he lifted her and placed her back on the horse, not being careful as he let go of her. She grabbed the saddle so she wouldn't fall off. He hopped in front of her and snapped the reins. Though she didn't want to touch him, she instinctively put her arms around his waist and held on.

"You better not think that husband of yours is going to find you," he called out as they rode forward. "I started out northwest but changed course to the east. Anyone who saw us will lead him in the wrong direction."

Using all the strength she had, she kicked him in the back of his calves.

He didn't give any indication that he noticed. Instead, he said, "You ought to be nice to me, Heather. If you aren't, I might not return you to him."

Tears sprang to her eyes. All he did was lie. No wonder her parents hadn't told her much about him while she was growing up.

They passed houses along the quiet night. Most people were asleep. She should be asleep, too. Asleep in bed with Mitch, safe and well loved. But instead she was on her way to a godforsaken saloon. When her brother led his horse up to the rowdy tavern, she tightened her grip around his waist. How she wished she was anywhere but here!

Abe slid off the horse, and before she could grab the reins and ride off, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down. She stumbled, almost falling, but he set her on her feet and held onto her while he tied the reins to the post.

"I won't show anyone you're a girl unless things get desperate in there," he told her and tucked the hood of her cloak closer around her face. "I've done much to improve my game. We might not have to lower your hood."

His words did little to assure her. He was greedy, and as long as he was greedy, he was going to keep going until things did get desperate. When he tried to lead her forward, she shook her head and dug her heels into the dirt. She pushed away from him with all of her strength, but she was no match for him. He yanked her toward the boardwalk. Once they were at the entrance, he shoved her through the swinging doors.

She managed to regain her footing before she ended up falling. The group of men in the round table closest to her laughed. She quickly pulled the hood lower over her forehead so they wouldn't see her face.

Abe came up beside her and nudged her in the back. "That table looks promising."

Through the smoky haze, she saw the round table further in the room where a group of three men played poker.

"Come along," he whispered, nudging her once more, harder this time.

Gritting her teeth, she lifted the hem of her cloak and headed for the table, praying he would win the game without having to reveal her identity.
Chapter Twenty

Three hours later, Abe had a substantial amount of money by his side as he sorted through his cards. Heather released her breath and resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her face. The summer night was hot enough but wearing the cloak made it nearly unbearable. Keeping her focus on the game helped take her mind off her discomfort. And as she watched Abe, she became aware that he was slipping cards under his sleeves, cards he later used to win his hands. She didn't know whether to be appalled or relieved. While it meant he was cheating, it also gave her the only chance she had of getting through the evening unseen by the other men.

Abe set two cards down on the table and threw a coin into the middle of the table. "I'll take two cards."

Her gaze went to the remaining man left at the table. The other two men had long since lost their money and left the saloon. So now it was just Abe and the remaining man. From the looks of it, Abe was about to win what little was left of the man's cash. With any luck, this would be the last game of the night. She clenched her hands together and watched as the man dealt two new cards to Abe who managed to exchange one for a card he had hidden beneath his sleeve.

"Hey," the man across from Abe barked, slamming his cards down on the table. "What'd you got under that sleeve?"

Abe's face grew pale. "Nothing. I just had an itch."

He narrowed his eyes at him and rose to his feet. Leaning forward, he said, "I bet. Let's see you roll those sleeves up."

By now, a couple of men from a nearby table had stopped playing to watch what was going on. Heather bit her lower lip. Should she tell the man that Abe was cheating? If she did, would there be enough of a diversion so she could run out of the saloon and escape on Abe's horse? She tightened her hold on the cloak and quickly debated the pros and cons of revealing Abe for the cheating scum he was.

Abe let out an uneasy chuckle. "I'm not cheating."

"Then you won't have trouble proving it," the man insisted. "Let's see those sleeves."

With a glance at the other men who were watching them, Abe shrugged. "Alright. Fine." He held his arms up, the sleeves still reaching his wrists. "See?"

"Roll 'em up," a man from the other table said, crossing his arms and glaring at him.

"What? No." Abe stood up. "Forget it. I'm out of here."

As her brother reached for the money to put into his bag, Heather lowered her voice and yelled out, "He's lying! I saw him cheating!"

Abe had just enough time to look in her direction before the man across from him struck him in the jaw. She ducked as her brother toppled to the floor. Seeing her chance to escape, she scurried under the table. Abe reached for her, but she kicked at his hands and crawled out into the open. She needed a bigger distraction!

"I'm not done with you!" the man yelled at Abe and ran around the table.

She rose to her feet as Abe dodged the man and headed for her. The other men moved aside to clear the way, but she needed them to block Abe before he could get her. For sure, he'd pull down her hood. Nothing would get their mind off a brawl like seeing a woman in their midst! She glanced around for something she could use to her advantage and saw an empty beer mug. As much as she hated to strike someone, she didn't see what choice she had. She picked up the mug and knocked it into the head of the man who had his back turned to her. When he whirled around, she leapt out of his way so he saw Abe. The man ran after Abe and bumped into two men who fell over their table. From there, the brawl exploded, involving more and more men by the second.

A gunshot rang through the air, and she darted under a table. Another gunshot went off, prompting her to crawl as fast as she could toward the swinging doors. Her progress was hindered when someone fell in her path, landing on his stomach in an unconscious heap. She screamed and tried to back up, but another gunshot went off, startling her.

Someone shoved the man in front of her aside and knelt so he could see her. She nearly cried with relief when she saw it was Boaz. "We have to get out of here!" he yelled over the ruckus going on around them.

She accepted his hand and wove through the fighting men. Once they were outside, she gasped, relieved to breathe fresh air. Boaz rushed her over to his horse in time for them to avoid a man who fell out of the saloon and onto the dusty road. She hesitated to take a good look at the fallen man, but someone shot him, directing her attention to him. Her breath caught in her throat. It was Abe, and he was sprawled on his back, blood trickling down his shirt, his face bruised. He groaned, and when he coughed, she saw blood dribble from his mouth.

"Don't look," Boaz told her, turning her so she was facing the saddle on his horse. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

She obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the image of her fallen brother from her mind. For as long as she lived, she didn't think she'd ever forget the scared look in his eyes.

After a minute, Boaz returned to her. "Your brother won't bother you anymore."

"He told you that?" she asked.

He shook his head and unwrapped the reins from the post. When he gathered the reins in his hand, he took her by the arm and led her and the horse further down the road in the opposite direction of her brother. "He's dead. Whoever shot him had good aim."

Once they were safely away from the saloon, she got on the horse and helped him up. He led the horse forward, and she hung onto him. In all the excitement, she had forgotten to remove her cloak, but she'd worry about that later. Right now, she was relieved to be heading back home. Back to Mitch, Gerty, Leroy and Hannah. Back to where she belonged.

They rode in silence for twenty minutes before she finally whispered, "Am I wrong for being glad my brother's dead?"

A moment passed between them before he said, "I don't think so. Considering everything he did, I'd say what you're feeling is normal. Now you know he won't hurt you anymore."

With a nod, she rested her head against his back and closed her eyes. And this time, she wasn't haunted by the image of Abe on the dusty road.

***

One year later

"Would you like another piece of pie, Boaz?" Heather offered at the supper table.

"No thanks." Boaz patted his stomach. "I can't eat anything else." Smiling, he looked at Leroy and Hannah who sat next to him. "You two think you can eat another slice?"

"No," Hannah replied at the same time Leroy said, "Yes."

Next to Heather, Gerty chuckled and scooped up a small slice of cherry pie to put on Leroy's plate. "This is all you'll get tonight, young man," she said when Leroy frowned at the portion she gave him. "I don't want you to wake up with a stomach ache in the middle of the night."

Mitch, who sat on Heather's other side, picked up his plate. "I wouldn't mind another slice since there's one left, unless you want it," he told Heather. "You haven't had a slice yet."

She shook her head and smiled. "No. It's hard to eat anything right now. I did good to have the soup."

Gerty patted her shoulder and grinned. "In seven months when you're holding your baby, you won't even think about how hard it is to eat right now."

"I know." Heather glanced at Mitch, her smile growing wider as she recalled his excitement when she told him she was going to have his child in February. "At least we still have time to think of a name."

"We'll come up with one," Mitch assured her. "Some people don't even figure out a name until the baby's born."

"That's the truth of it," Gerty agreed. "And don't be surprised if you think you settle for a name only to change it when the baby comes. When I was expecting Boaz, I was sure his name would be Samuel. Then on the day he was born, I took one look at him and knew he was meant to be Boaz."

"As long as we don't change the name after the child is a year old, that's the important thing," Mitch said. "You don't want to confuse the poor boy or girl."

"Why did you call me Leroy?" Leroy asked Boaz before he bit into a piece of pie.

Boaz set his cloth napkin on the table and turned toward him. "Your ma's father had that name, and she wanted to name you after him to honor his memory."

"What about me?" Hannah asked.

A flicker of sorrow crossed his face, but he smiled at her. "You're named after your ma."

"Was Ma nice?" Leroy wondered.

"Yes, yes she was. She was nice just like your aunt and grandma are." He turned to Heather and Mitch. "I have to be at the mercantile when it opens tomorrow. Eugene wants me to deliver some supplies to the restaurant first thing. But first, I was wondering if I could talk to you in the parlor?"

Heather glanced at Gerty who motioned for them to go to the other room. "I can clean up. You kids go ahead."

With a nod, Heather stood up with Mitch and followed Boaz to the parlor where he grabbed his hat from the hook by the door.

"What is it, Boaz?" Mitch asked, his voice low. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not wrong." He held his hat in one hand and ran his other hand through his hair. After a moment, he glanced between Mitch and Heather. "I was wondering if you'd let Leroy and Hannah live with me? I've been working at the mercantile for almost a year, and I haven't touched any alcohol or gambled."

"But you need to be at work," Heather replied. "Do you want your ma to live with you and care for them during the day?"

"Well, no." His fingers ran along the edges of his hat. "I know Ma has a hard time taking care of them without you there to help her. I was thinking of getting married. Then my wife would care for them while I'm at work."

"It's a wonderful idea," Mitch began, "but do you know how hard it is to find a wife when you already have children? If it weren't for Heather falling down from heaven when she did, I'd still be alone."

Her cheeks warmed in pleasure at the way Mitch had likened her to an angel.

"It's not impossible," Boaz said. "There are mail-order brides. Advertisements just came in today at the mercantile."

"That's true," Mitch granted. "But it's harder to get one to come all the way out here than you think. Most of them want to be in bigger towns."

"I didn't know you tried to get a mail-order bride," Heather told Mitch, surprised.

Mitch shrugged. "Nothing came of it, so I saw no reason to mention it."

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Thank goodness for that."

He squeezed her hand. "No one would have been as good as you, sweetheart."

Boaz cleared his throat, so they turned their attention back to him. "Maybe finding a wife won't be as easy as I think it'll be, but I'm going to try. If I do get married, can I have my children back? I already missed out on three years with them. I don't want to lose any more time."

"Of course, you can," Mitch replied. "The last thing Heather and I want to do is keep you from your children."

"They love it when you come over," Heather added. "And it's not just because you bring them candy."

Chuckling, Boaz put his hat on. "It's hard to resist giving them candy when they get excited about eating it." He opened the door and turned back to them. "Thank you. For everything you've done for them...and for giving me another chance."

Mitch let go of her hand and hugged his brother. "It's good to see you doing better."

When Mitch backed away from him, Boaz wiped his eyes. "It's good to finally be doing better." He stepped over to Heather and gave her a hug. "Thanks for being kind to Mitch. It was long overdue for him to marry a good woman," he whispered.

"I hope you find a good wife," she softly replied.

With a nod, he returned to the door and waved before he left the house.

As they watched him go to his horse, Mitch slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him. "It might have taken a long time to find you, but the wait was worth it."

She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Marrying you was the smartest thing I ever did. I love you, Mitch."

"I love you, too."

As he kissed her, Hannah let out a shrill scream from the kitchen. "Leroy's poking me!"

Ending their kiss, Heather laughed and rubbed Mitch's arms. "I better help your ma. It sounds like the children are giving her a hard time."

"While you do that, I'll check the animals in the barn. Should we continue celebrating our marriage after the kids are in bed?"

"I'd be disappointed if we didn't," she replied, giving him a sly grin.

He kissed her again then headed outside.

Smiling, she went to help Gerty with Leroy and Hannah, eager for the time when she'd get to be alone with Mitch once again.
Next in the Montana Collection...

Boaz's Wager (Book 2)

What Boaz Grady wants more than anything is to have his children living with him. But in order to get them back, he needs to marry a woman who'll be their mother.

Eva Connealy left Omaha, Nebraska to be a school teacher in Washington. On her way there, a band of robbers attack her stagecoach and decide to sell her in Lewistown, Montana. While men are posting bids for her, Boaz makes a wager of his own and wins the right to marry her.

Despite the shaky beginning, Boaz is sure she'll adjust to her new life as his children's mother. But she wants to be more than a mother. She also wants to be a wife and vows to figure out how to make their marriage of convenience into something much, much more.

Patty's Gamble (Book 3)

For as long as Patty Dixon can remember, she's been in love with Greg Wilson. The problem? He doesn't want to marry her. In fact, he doesn't want to marry anyone. And all of her attempts to get his attention haven't worked. Except, there's one thing she hasn't tried.

In a daring move, she stages a situation where he must rescue her. Her ploy works, and she finally has the chance to show him that having a wife is just what he needs. But Greg is proving to be harder to impress than she thought and all her fancy meals, beautiful dresses, and seductive maneuvers haven't worked.

Is there any way she can secure her place In his life or has she just lost her gamble?

Shane's Deal (Book 4)

Madeline Thompson, the woman the outlaws were looking for at the beginning of Boaz's Wager (Book 2 in the Montana Collection), has finally arrived in Lewistown, Montana, but no one knew she was coming because she had disguised herself as a man. She was only going to stay in town long enough to get more supplies for her trip to Canada. But then fate intervened with a bullet to her shoulder...and now she's not going anywhere.

When Marshal Shane Taft discovers Madeline's true identity, he knows only a desperate woman would take such a big risk in traveling through the wild territory of Montana without a chaperone. That alone prompts him to protect her. Finding out she's recently widowed and is carrying a child prompts him to propose marriage.

Madeline's first husband left a lot to be desired. Besides thinking women had nothing worthwhile to contribute but an heir, he was cold toward her. She would say no to the deal Shane is offering, but necessity forces her to marry him. Nothing good can come from being under another man's thumb.

That is, of course, unless he happens to be the right man.
All Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

(Chronological Order)

Regencies

Marriage by Scandal Series

The Earl's Inconvenient Wife

A Most Unsuitable Earl

His Reluctant Lady

The Earl's Scandalous Wife

Marriage by Design Series

Breaking the Rules

Nobody's Fool – coming soon

A Deceptive Wager – coming soon

Standalone Regency

Her Counterfeit Husband (happens during A Most Unsuitable Earl)

Marriage by Deceit Series

The Earl's Secret Bargain

Love Lessons With the Duke

Ruined by the Earl

The Earl's Stolen Bride

Marriage by Arrangement Series

His Wicked Lady

Her Devilish Marquess

The Earl's Wallflower Bride

Marriage by Bargain Series

The Viscount's Runaway Bride

The Rake's Vow

Taming The Viscountess

If It Takes A Scandal

Marriage by Fate Series

The Reclusive Earl

Married In Haste

Make Believe Bride

The Perfect Duke

Kidnapping the Viscount

Marriage by Fairytale Series

The Marriage Contract

One Enchanted Evening

The Wedding Pact

Fairest of Them All

The Duke's Secluded Bride

Historical Western Romances

Pioneer Series

Wagon Trail Bride

The Marriage Agreement

Groom For Hire

Forced Into Marriage

Nebraska Series

Her Heart's Desire

A Bride for Tom

A Husband for Margaret

Eye of the Beholder

The Wrong Husband

Shotgun Groom

To Have and To Hold

His Redeeming Bride

Forever Yours

Isaac's Decision

Misled Mail Order Brides Series

The Bride Price

The Rejected Groom

The Perfect Wife

The Imperfect Husband

Husbands for the Larson Sisters

Nelly's Mail Order Husband

Perfectly Matched – coming soon

Suitable for Marriage – coming soon

Chance at Love Series

The Convenient Mail Order Bride

The Mistaken Mail Order Bride

The Accidental Mail Order Bride

The Bargain Mail Order Bride

South Dakota Series

Loving Eliza

Bid for a Bride

Bride of Second Chances

Montana Collection

Mitch's Win

Boaz's Wager

Patty's Gamble

Shane's Deal

Wyoming Series

The Outlaw's Bride

The Rancher's Bride

The Fugitive's Bride

Native American Romance Series

Restoring Hope

A Chance In Time

Brave Beginnings

Bound by Honor, Bound by Love

Virginia Series

An Unlikely Place for Love

The Cold Wife

An Inconvenient Marriage

Romancing Adrienne

Nebraska Prairie Series

The Purchased Bride

The Bride's Choice

Standalone Historical Western Romances

Falling In Love With Her Husband

Kent Ashton's Backstory

Catching Kent

His Convenient Wife

Meant To Be

The Mail Order Bride's Deception

Contemporary Romances

Omaha Series

With This Ring, I Thee Dread

What Nathan Wants

Just Good Friends

Across the Stars Series

Suddenly a Bride

Runaway Bride

His Abducted Bride

Standalone Contemporaries

Substitute Bride

Online Proposal

Thrillers

Return of the Aliens (Christian End-Times Novel)

Late One Night (flash fiction)

The Very True Legends of Ol' Man Wickleberry and his Demise - Ink Slingers' Anthology

Fantasies

Enchanted Galaxy Series

A Royal Engagement

Royal Hearts

The Royal Pursuit

Royal Heiress

Nonfiction

Writing Tips Series

11 Tips for New Writers

The Emotionally Engaging Character

Writing for Passion
Where To Find Ruth

There are several ways you can find me! I'll list them below, and you can pick the one that most interests you.

My Monthly Blog (https://ruthannnordinnewsletter.com) Once a month, I'll give updates on books I'm working on, and I will include new release information.

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MeWe (https://mewe.com/p/ruthannnordinsbooks) I have an Author Page on MeWe. This is a snapshot of stuff I'm currently doing and new releases. It gives you a bird's eye view of my progress as I get more books into the world. Also, if you are on MeWe, feel free to say hi!

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If you'd like to receive a notice from Bookbub, Amazon, or Smashwords when I have a new release, you can follow me on the pages I have set up at these sites:

Bookbub (https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-ann-nordin)

Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/Ruth-Ann-Nordin/e/B002BM2VVQ)

Smashwords (https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ruthannnordin)

