The Cowboy's Baby Bond (20 page)

Her throat tightened so she couldn't speak.

“I will make it up to you, too, if I can. I will do my best to be the most loving, kind husband a woman could ask for.”

She cupped her hands about his face. “You won't have to try. That's how you naturally are.”

He kissed her.

As she leaned into his embrace, welcoming his love, Willow raised a prayer of thanks to God for blessing her beyond her wildest dreams.

She'd hoped for a family like she'd known with her parents. Having Johnny as her husband and a father to the children made it possible.

Epilogue

W
illow didn't care where they held the wedding. She didn't need anything special, but she soon discovered Maisie had no intention of letting the event pass without notice.

“This will be something all of you will look back on with fondness. Especially the girls. Right?” She had turned to Celia and Sarah for their agreement and had, of course, gotten it. At first, they had wanted Johnny and Willow to get married at the waterfall, but Johnny had said no.

“It might be hard for Thad to go there, plus it's too dangerous for Adam.”

Willow stood in the cabin now, watching the family gather in front of it. The girls had insisted on picking wildflowers and cutting leafy branches to hang on the veranda. The preacher had come from town. Johnny, Thad and Levi crossed the yard, dressed in white shirts, gray vests and dark trousers. My, but Johnny was handsome. Willow's throat constricted with a love so fierce it stung her eyes. Tanner stood by his wife's side, their children clustered around them.

Days ago, Maisie had arranged a family picnic so Willow could meet Susanne and Tanner and their children. Sarah was thrilled to find she would be getting cousins to play with, and Celia had happily included herself with the women.

Susanne smiled up at Tanner, her eyes brimming with love.

Willow knew she and Johnny would be just as happy together, and the family they formed with the children would be warm and welcoming to each member.

“Everyone is ready,” Celia said. “Come on, Sarah.” Side by side her sisters went to the veranda.

“Are you ready?” Willow whispered to Adam.

“Man?”

“Yes, the man is going to be your new papa.” It didn't matter if Adam understood today. In the future, he would appreciate the man who was about to become her husband, Adam's father and joint guardian to her sisters.

She took one last glance in the mirror to make sure her hair had stayed pinned up properly. Her dress was fancier than anything she'd owned in a long time, a pearl-gray one that Susanne and Maisie had adjusted to fit her. Willow felt quite elegant in it.

Adam looked so grown-up and handsome in a white shirt and tiny bow tie. She wiped his chin. “Try not to drool until we're done.”

He babbled and patted her cheeks.

She kissed his forehead. “It's time.” She stepped to the veranda.

Johnny's eyes flooded with welcome and he reached for her hand.

They had agreed how they would handle the children, and when the preacher declared them man and wife, she passed Adam to him.

The baby gurgled with happiness, patted Johnny's chin. “Papa.”

Sarah grinned. “We taught him that.”

Johnny's eyes glistened. “Thank you. It's the best wedding gift ever.” He hugged each of the girls and the five of them turned to face the assembly.

The preacher cleared his throat. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Johnny Harding and their family.”

Their guests clapped and cheered, but Johnny and Willow had eyes only for each other. Today they would start a life together of truth, trust and love.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
MAIL ORDER MIX-UP
by Christine Johnson.

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Dear Reader,

Isn't it great to know we can always start over again? That we can confront pain and loss, disappointment and defeat and keep going? Our God is sufficient for each day. If you are in such circumstances, I pray you will find comfort and encouragement in this story about facing difficulties and starting over. May your heart be lifted and your soul be refreshed in God's goodness.

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Mail Order Mix-Up

by Christine Johnson

Chapter One

August 1870

“I
do hope Garrett Decker is as handsome as that gentleman over there that you find so fascinating.”

Pearl Lawson started at her friend's comment and absently adjusted her sleeve while keeping a good grip on the steamship railing. “I can't imagine who you mean.”

She hadn't been staring, had she? The striking gentleman standing not twenty feet away on the promenade deck certainly warranted more than a casual glance. He wore an impeccable dark brown suit that matched the color of his hair. The breezes off Lake Michigan ruffled the thick locks that ought to be topped by a hat, but that minor impropriety was not what had drawn Pearl's attention. No, it was the vigor of his gestures during conversation with an older gentleman. Clearly they were discussing something more interesting than the calm seas and clear blue skies. Pearl longed for spirited discussion. Any topic of current concern would do, as long as it didn't dwell on the weather or one's health.

An impish twinkle sparked in Amanda's eye. “He would make a fine beau.”

“That's not why we're here. I have a teaching position, and you are getting married.”

Amanda fiddled with the clasp of her nearly empty bag. “I'm not so certain about that any longer.”

Pearl understood her friend's jitters. Getting married to a man she'd never met must be terrifying. “I'm sure Garrett Decker will be even more charming and handsome than that man.”

“How can you know? We only have the advertisement.” Amanda slipped the newspaper clipping from her bag. After two weeks of agonized second-guessing, it was frayed and creased to the point of falling apart. “‘Widower with handsome inheritance seeks wife in booming town soon to rival Chicago. Well-furnished, comfortable house. Inquire at mercantile for Mr. Garrett Decker. Singapore, Michigan,'” she said. “It says nothing of his appearance.” Her hand trembled. “Or his temperament.”

Pearl squeezed her friend's arm. “If he doesn't suit, then we shall get along together. My wages ought to support two frugal women.” She gave Amanda an encouraging smile. “No one knows better how to stretch a penny.”

Amanda answered with a shake of her ebony curls. “You have always done much better than I.” She fingered the satin ribbons on her hat. “Is it wrong to be fond of pretty things?”

“Not for someone as lovely as you.”

Amanda lifted her violet eyes, which abruptly widened. “Don't look now, but your gentleman has noticed you.”

“More likely you. After all, you are the pretty one.”

Amanda blushed. “But I am practically spoken for. At least as soon as we arrive in Singapore. This gentleman should be for you.”

“You know that I cannot marry. The terms of my teaching contract were quite specific on that point.”

“But it's not fair.”

Pearl had thought that at first, but upon reflection she could understand their point. “They do not wish to hire a teacher only to lose her shortly afterward. It is no hardship for me to postpone any thoughts of marriage for a year. I have no prospects at present, and a true gentleman would wait as long as necessary. Even if someone should profess undying love, I will be too busy with the school to consider courting, least of all marriage.”

“I don't know how you can dismiss romance so easily. If that fine-looking gentleman asked to get acquainted, you couldn't possibly deny him.”

“I can, and I will.” Yet even as Pearl spoke, she could see her friend's attention drawn down the railing.

“He's looking the other way now. We must do something to attract his interest. Perhaps a stroll in his direction. You could inquire about the weather.”

Pearl groaned. “Absolutely not. He is already deep in conversation. It would not be polite to interrupt.”

“It's always acceptable for a lady...oh, dear!” Her exclamation was accompanied by a tight grip on Pearl's arm. “He's walking away. You must do something, or you'll lose him.”

“I am not chasing after a man.”

“If you won't act, then I will.” She waved her fan briskly and exclaimed loudly, “The sun is too hot. I feel faint.”

“Stop this,” Pearl hissed.

Amanda clutched Pearl's arm again. “It worked. He looked our way.” She raised her voice again. “I can't seem to draw a breath.” She started to slump.

“If you faint, I'll...I'll...” Pearl couldn't think of a thing she would do to the friend who'd grown up with her in the orphanage. They'd stayed close even after Amanda had been placed with a family, while Pearl stayed unclaimed. When Amanda's fiancé jilted her, she turned to Pearl, who convinced her to answer the advertisement that would place Amanda in the very same town as Pearl's schoolhouse. Now Amanda's well-being fell on Pearl's shoulders. But it did not give her friend license to play matchmaker.

“Mr. Decker might not like women who swoon,” Pearl pointed out.

“Mr. Decker? Mr. Garrett Decker?” A redhead in an emerald-green silk gown halted beside them. “I could not help but overhear, but I must warn you that that particular gentleman is already spoken for.”

“What?” Pearl and Amanda said at the same time.

After days on a cramped, hot train and spending all but a few of their coins on this last passage, Pearl's plan for Amanda could not come to naught.

“It can't be,” Amanda whispered, her complexion so pale that Pearl feared she was about to genuinely faint. “The advertisement is only two weeks old.”

Two weeks was plenty of time for a man to wed. However, this woman sailed on the same ship as them. If she was already married to him, why wasn't she with her husband?

Pearl thrust back her shoulders, prepared to battle for her friend. “Then you are his wife?”

“Not yet.” The woman tossed her head, which was topped by a hat bursting with ribbon and feathers. “But I soon will be.”

Pearl could have kicked herself for never considering that other women might respond to the advertisement. “Have you corresponded with him?”

“There wasn't an address to write him,” the redhead admitted, “but I intend to win his heart the moment we land in Singapore.” She assessed Pearl and finished with a tight smile.

Apparently she felt Pearl was no competition, which she wasn't. Amanda, on the other hand, could surpass any woman in the virtues that counted most. Kind and gentle of spirit, Amanda was also skilled with the needle and an above average housekeeper. Her cooking might suffer from lack of instruction, but then what would a man living in such an outpost expect? Certainly not the finely dressed redhead standing before him, nor the mousy woman who poked her head into the small group.

“Are you talking about Mr. Decker?” the mouse squeaked. Her hands clutched a book so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Oh, dear. Not another. How many women aboard the
Milwaukee
were traveling to Singapore in answer to the same advertisement? At least three. Amanda had competition. Worse, the handsome gentleman had drawn closer and caught her gaze. Pearl swallowed the flutter in her stomach and tried to concentrate on the trouble at hand.

“How many could there be?” Amanda whispered, her voice shaking.

“It doesn't matter if there are a hundred. Mr. Decker will choose the one who would make the best wife, and that is clearly—”

“A hundred!” Amanda paled. “There couldn't possibly be a hundred.”

Why had Amanda seized on that small exaggeration?

“But I've placed all my hopes in him.” The mousy bookworm looked close to tears. “I hope he's good and kind.”

Pearl felt Amanda tremble. Hugh Bellchamp had not been a kind man. Not only had he betrayed his engagement to Amanda, but he had also done so to elope with the daughter of the family that had taken in Amanda. His note, delivered the morning of the wedding, had spared no cruelty, citing her unknown parentage as the deciding factor. Amanda was not good enough to become a Bellchamp, not when the Chatsworth money was taken into account.

The redhead snorted. “I want a strong man, not some weakling who spends his time writing love poems.”

Pearl cringed, for Hugh had written Amanda dozens of poems during their courtship. She felt her friend sway. Amanda's fan dropped from her hand and plopped into the water far below. “This is useless speculation, ladies. We won't know the man's character until we meet him.”

The ship turned just enough to cut off the breeze. The thick August air could make any woman perspire, but drops poured off Amanda's forehead. Her ringlets looked damp beneath the small straw hat that afforded no shade whatsoever, and her color had paled even further. Since Pearl didn't carry a fan, she tugged off her gloves and waved them in front of Amanda's face.

“Perhaps we should find somewhere to sit.” She felt Amanda's grip loosening.

“Oh, dear.” The bookworm's eyes widened as she recognized the imminent danger. She looked left and right. “The only chairs are in the ladies' lounge or upstairs.”

Too late. Amanda gasped ever so softly before slumping. Pearl reacted to her friend's collapse, cradling her on the way down and taking the brunt of the impact. Her knees smacked against the wood deck, but Amanda landed without injury.

“Is she all right?” the mouse whispered.

The redhead pulled smelling salts from her bag and offered them to Pearl.

One whiff of the astringent contents sent Amanda into a coughing fit.

Pearl stroked the damp curls from Amanda's face. “We need air, ladies, and some water would be nice.”

“I'll fetch some.” The mousy woman hurried off.

That left the redhead. Pearl tried to hand back the smelling salts, but the woman's attention was focused on something behind Pearl.

“Ladies.” A rich masculine voice rolled over Pearl's head with the calming effect of a lapping wave. “Do you have need of a doctor?”

Without looking, she knew it was him. The hatless man. The man whose animated gestures had intrigued her. Her pulse raced. She didn't dare look at him lest she lose her head. That would not help Amanda. So she kept her gaze focused on her friend and tried to ignore the girlish pounding of her heart.

The redhead seized the opportunity to extend a gloved hand. “We are most grateful for your assistance. This woman swooned.”

The man ignored her and peered at Amanda. “I can fetch a physician.”

“That's not necessary,” Pearl said quickly. They could not afford the services of a doctor. “See, the color is already coming back to her cheeks.”

“She doesn't have a fever?”

Pearl detected genuine concern in his question. “I think it was just the heat.” She left out the real cause. No gentleman wanted to hear that three women had cast themselves into the marriage market for the same man. “A glass of water is on its way.”

“You're certain you don't need a physician?”

Amanda managed to flutter her eyelids at him. “No, thank you, kind sir.”

That little flirtation stirred a most unwelcome feeling in Pearl's heart. Amanda was her dearest friend. Pearl should be pleased that any man had pushed the memories of Hugh from Amanda's mind, but why did it have to be this gentleman?

“I think it might be best to send for the doctor.” He lifted a hand to catch a porter's attention.

“No!” Amanda shot to a sitting position.

“Opposed to physicians?” the man asked with a hint of amusement.

“Not at all,” Pearl replied. Neither of them had much money left after paying the costs of rail and ship travel from New York, even though the indirect route via Chicago proved least expensive. They would need every cent for room and board until Pearl began her new position. “Thank you for your consideration, but we will manage.”

Pearl began to stand, and he extended a hand to assist her. She hesitated, but at the redhead's grunt of displeasure accepted his help. At his touch, a sensation like lightning shot from her hand to her shoulder. Her gaze locked on his. He lifted her like a fallen leaf. She didn't feel her feet, couldn't break the gaze, couldn't think a single lucid thought.

He released her hand with a smile that took her breath away. Though dozens of passengers had boarded in Chicago, she had noticed him. Tall, dark-haired and elegant, he looked the picture of a gentleman. Now his manners proved him to be exactly that. No other man had come to their aid. Few even glanced in their direction. She became aware that she was staring again. It didn't hurt that his blue eyes twinkled like the sapphires she'd once seen on display in a New York jeweler's shop window.

After a final smile that dimpled his cheek, he turned to Amanda. “May I help you to your feet?”

“Of course,” she said breathlessly.

Pearl stared at her friend, whose gaze was riveted on this handsome gentleman.

He extended his hand. She put one gloved hand in his, and without the slightest effort he pulled her to her feet.

“Thank you,” Amanda gushed, gaze still fixed on him.

Pearl fought unconscionable waves of jealousy. Why should she care about Amanda's interest in the gentleman? Amanda was the one who desperately wanted to marry. Pearl couldn't, according to the contract she had signed. But his eyes... She struggled to draw a breath. Something about the man drew her like no other. Curiosity and intelligence and laughter danced in his eyes. He made her feel as if she had always known him, even though they'd just met.

He turned back to Pearl. “Are you well, miss?”

Pearl swallowed and found her throat dry and her voice missing. She settled for nodding.

“Can I have my salts back?” The redhead stuck out her hand.

Pearl dropped the vial into it.

The woman then turned a dazzling smile on the gentleman. “We're fortunate that you were here, sir. I'm Miss O'Keefe, but you may call me Fiona.”