Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset Read online

  “I can see where Lilly would be of a concern to you, Logan. Are you sure this woman won’t run off with the first slick gambler she meets? I’ve got enough trouble in this town without you bringing this city woman in to add to it.”

  “Of that, I’m sure, Marshal. Miss Johnson will be the perfect ‘mature’ woman to take care of Lilly, should anything happen to me.”

  “I see.” Marshall Jones tucked his thumbs into his gun belt, then turned, looking Logan in the face. “Any leads on that cattle rustling business yet?”

  “Nothing solid or worth mentioning.”

  Logan dragged his gaze across the street, watching the upstanding citizens of Dodge come and go from the stores lining Front Street. Dodge City was starting to grow into a true metropolis of more than drovers and gamblers. Families were settling just outside of town, farming the land and raising dairy cows. There were more women and children walking the streets every day. The train did its share to bring them from Boston to the Wild West. It amazed him that more stayed than left when things got a bit tough on them. It took true grit to make a home in the untamed west.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Preacher Samuels sent me over to let you know he’ll be in the Long Branch awaitin’. Shouldn’t be too long now.” Marshal Jones turned, leaving Logan to mull over his upcoming nuptials.

  Any moment now his bride would be arriving. She’d step off the Santa Fe, walk across the street, and straight into the Long Branch to get married. No courtship. No getting to know each other. No time to fall in love. It was better that way.

  According to the letter from Abigail Johnson of Wisconsin, she was of an age past the time of bearing a child and that suited Logan just fine. She implied she’d always longed for a daughter to love and guide through her young years. Miss Johnson also indicated she’d managed the kitchen of a large estate for several years but wanted to seek out an adventure before she walked into her later years. In short, she sounded perfect.

  Miss Johnson hadn’t sent a photograph, stating it didn’t matter what either of them looked like since this was to be a marriage of convenience and in name only, which suited him just fine. She was willing to share his name, help raise Lilly, make his meals, and any other household duties, but she refused to share his bed. She wrote if that was accommodating to him, she gladly accepted his terms and proposal of marriage.

  Logan was definitely accommodating to those terms; he’d set them, after all. He’d had the extra room next to Lilly’s prepared for his “wife” and at the opposite end of the hall from him. That way they’d barely have to cross paths in the bedroom area if they didn’t want to. He aimed to have his daughter safely under the protection and guidance, if not love, of Miss Johnson should something happen to him during his cattle rustling investigation.

  When he’d accepted the undercover assignment to Dodge City, he’d not thought of Lilly’s future nor what would happen to his young daughter if he were killed. That had been six months ago. It didn’t take him long to realize that Dodge wasn’t the place for motherless children, even though several families had settled in the area. He couldn’t bear to send her to the secluded family ranch in northern Montana with his over-bearing mother. Dodge was still the stomping ground of every cowpoke, gambler, and gunfighter passing through town.

  It had taken some time, but once Logan had secured his place as barkeep at the Lady Gay, he’d saved enough money to add to his Chicago bank accounts to move Lilly and him out of the Dodge House and into a home of their own. The sparsely furnished, two-story house sat on the north edge of town but lacked a woman’s touch. His new wife would soon set that right. He missed the smell of a home-cooked meal coming from the kitchen and sitting down to eat like a family without half the town for company. He felt certain Miss Johnson would provide that for Lilly.

  The train whistle blared as it roared into town, chasing away Logan’s thoughts of the warm and welcoming home he admitted to missing.

  Logan adjusted his hat and tie. “Looks like my bride has arrived right on time.”

  Rose Duncan clenched the letter tightly in her hand. Going over the past few days of how her life was in flux, she gazed up at the train she was about to finish her escape in. She was still in disbelief that she’d taken Abby up on her outrageous suggestion. Part of her felt freer than she had in…well, forever. She could do this. Manage this man’s household and daughter. She loved children, and they usually took to her. She felt bad that she’d done Abby out of this adventure, but Abby assured her she’d find a more suitable, older man to marry as there seemed to be plenty of them available out west.

  After a brief stop in Kansas City where she’d switched trains, Rose glanced over her shoulder then stepped up into the train for the last time, making a wish for luck. Whatever came, she knew she’d never see Wisconsin again. She’d left everything behind in her small room on the third floor of her former employer’s house. In haste, she had put on the only clean dress and undergarments she had before taking the stage to Chicago after what felt like months ago. Abigail insisted she travel without bags so as not to cause suspicion as she left the big house. She also insisted Rose not worry about not having any clothes with her, for surely Mr. Granger would take care of her need for a clean dress and fresh undergarments.

  Rose desperately wanted to scrub the sooty grime off her body, and from her mind, the haunting picture of her employer pushing his wife down the stairs that troubled her every time she closed her eyes. She wanted a fresh bath, her hair smelling like lavender instead of smoke, and a clean dress to wear instead of one speckled with dust and soot. Surely those requests wouldn’t be too much to ask for. Certainly, she’d be able to get all those things before she stepped in front of a preacher and married a man she didn’t know.

  Rose shuddered, glad to have left that big house of death and the person who caused it. She found herself continuously looking around at other travelers as she journeyed from Wisconsin, then through the Kansas countryside. Even now, hundreds of miles away, she waited for a lawman to arrest her, drag her back to testify against a man she now feared. She scoured every face for any indication they were looking for her.

  “Next stop, Topeka, Kansas. Passengers going to Dodge City, please stay aboard the train. We will only be here long enough to embark and disembark, and take on water.”

  Moments later the train pulled into Topeka, steam from the engine hissing in the air. Rose gazed out the window as the train chugged into town. She tucked her skirts around her, making a protective barrier against anyone who would sit beside her. She’d be glad to finally be rid of the dirt and noise of the wheels churning over the iron rails. To be able to feel the ground solid and unmoving beneath her feet for longer than it took her to use the bathroom to quickly tidy up, a hot bath a simple pleasure she now craved.

  A man sporting a star on his lapel sat down across from her. “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat and smiled. His eyes were crystal blue. A mustache fell over his upper lip to the corners of his mouth. Rose quickly looked away, her heart pounding. What if he was after her? What if Mr. Griswold forced Abby to tell him where Rose had gone, and he’d hired this man to track her down? Friendly as he may seem, she was afraid that his intense staring would invoke further conversation. She continued to look out the window as the train pulled out of the station. She wanted no conversation with this man, none at all.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting off here, ma’am?” the man inquired, his easy way of speaking floating over her.

  Rose cast him a look, then turned away. She hated being rude to the man. If he wasn’t an officer of the law, she’d have been happy for a bit of conversation with someone other than herself.

  “I don’t mean to intrude, but the next stop is Dodge City and I can’t suppose a fine young woman like yourself would be traveling there on purpose.” The lawman continued to scrutinize her.

  Rose sighed, her heart pounding slower in her breast as her fear abated. He didn’t know who she was; he wasn’t out to dr
ag her back home. It was only too obvious he was not going to give up the gift of gab anytime soon.

  “Excuse my rudeness, ma’am. My name is Hawkins, Gabe Hawkins. I’m a deputy marshal in Dodge.” Deputy Marshal Gabe Hawkins tipped his hat once more, his smile wide and friendly.

  “As it happens, I am traveling to Dodge City. I’m meeting my new husband there,” Rose chirped, driving home the point that she was already spoken for and not interested in his company.

  Hawkins slapped his knee, then laughed. “Well, I’ll be dogged! Which one of those Texas cowpokes has decided to take up with a wife, all legal like?”

  “I don’t believe Mr. Granger is a cowpoke,” she retorted, disgusted by the fact this man of law thought she looked like she’d marry a dirty cattle runner. “I’ll have you know he’s a well-respected man in Dodge City.”

  Deep, rolling laughter filled the car. Rose scowled at the deputy, fighting the urge to slap him for his impetuousness. What in the blazes was so funny? Unless Mr. Granger had lied in his letter…no, that couldn’t be. But then, she wasn’t telling the truth herself.

  “Well, that he is, ma’am. Well respected by many a man, and woman, in Dodge.”

  She relaxed at his words. “Good. Now if you’d be so kind as to leave me to my own thoughts, I’d deeply appreciate it.” Rose gave him her best sweet smile, then took Mr. Granger’s letter yet again from her tattered pocketbook. Unfolding it for the hundredth time, she re-read the words her soon-to-be husband wrote to another woman:

  My Dear Miss Johnson,

  Thank you for your letter inquiring about my advertisement for a bride. As you know, I am in need of a mature woman who knows and understands the running of a household, as well as the needs of a six-year-old girl. That is all I require of you. Rest assured I do not expect you to come all the way from Wisconsin without the promise and protection of marriage.

  By your letter, you appear to be perfectly suitable for my situation. I have provided you with the necessary transportation documents. I hope you have not changed your mind, and I look forward to our harmonious occasion upon your arrival.

  Respectfully yours,

  Logan Granger

  Rose fingered the tintype photograph of the man she’d never seen before but would call husband in a few short hours. His boyish grin only accented the dimples playing on his cheeks. His eyes glittered with a hint of sorrow in their depths. He appeared to have a good head of hair, and he was clean shaven and well-groomed for a man living in a frontier town. Unless his dress was a lie, Mr. Granger had a sense of fashion.

  Nervously she folded the letter with the photograph tucked back safely in its folds. She was a bride on the run. A mail-order bride Logan Granger was not expecting at the station.

  Logan stood on the depot platform as the Santa Fe finally came to a steaming halt. Smoke from the screeching of steel against steel burst around him.

  “Well ole boy, the time has come. I hope you’re ready to take on an older sister-type for a wife,” Logan said to himself under his breath thankful he was the only one waiting for someone to arrive. It was no secret he was expecting a lady on today’s train, he didn’t want an audience mulling around that may scare her off. Lilly needed this woman too much. While the future Mrs. Granger may not be physically appealing, he did find himself hopeful she wouldn’t have a goiter or warts so he’d be able to look at her and say the words without wincing.

  Marshal Jones had come to say his piece. Preacher Samuels was preparing the words he’d recite to the bride and groom over a glass of beer at the Long Branch. Not to mention he had Montana Sue looking after Lilly down at the Lady Gay until he got his new wife to take his name.

  Logan sucked in his breath along with his courage. He’d faced down armed men he could do this. The conductor stepped down from one of the passenger cars, followed by an array of men and women from all walks of life. A few looked like city slickers, not unlike he was six months ago, looking for adventure and opportunity. He watched as each person passed by him and made their way across the street to the hotel. When he looked up again, the prettiest blonde-haired young lady in a plain looking calico dress cautiously stepped down, her skirts gathered in her hand above the dusty street.

  Her long hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, pieces of unruly strands fell around her face. She nervously glanced around the platform like a rabbit being cautious of a trap laid out for her. There was a quiet beauty about her that seemed simple and real. What was a young lady like her thinking coming to Dodge City without an escort?

  Coming up behind her was Deputy Marshal Gabe Hawkins. Logan’s beating heart slowed when Gabe said a few words to the woman, smiled, then made his way over to Logan. Of course, Gabe would pick up a beauty on his travels, it was the way the cards were always laid out for the deputy.

  “Logan!” Gabe greeted, his hand extended in friendship. “Good to see a friendly face waiting for me.”

  “Deputy, looks like you brought a little lady back with you,” Logan remarked, surprised at the wave of envy flushing through him. Leave it to Lady Luck, Gabe would get the good-looking girl while Logan waited for his matronly wife-to-be. No time for self-pity, it’s what he wanted and embraced when he’d accepted Abigail Johnson’s response to his advertisement.

  Deputy Hawkins smiled, then burst out laughing. Slapping Logan on the back, he said as he walked away, “She’s not with me, Granger. She’s here to meet her new husband. Someone named Logan Granger.”

  Logan swallowed the rock in his throat. His hands were moist, and he felt a ping in his britches he’d forgotten existed. His pretty little wife-to-be approached, and all he could do was work the brim of his hat over and over in his hands.

  2

  Rose gathered her skirts then stepped off the train. There was dirt and dust everywhere she looked. People dodged horses as they tried to maneuver from one side of the street to another. Where have I come to? How can this be any better than what I left? Because no one here will try to hurt me. I’ll be safe under the protection of a husband.

  “Welcome to Dodge City, ma’am.” Deputy Hawkins tipped his hat, then strolled over to a man standing on the depot landing. They exchanged a few words, then the deputy slapped the man on the back before proceeding across the street to the jail.

  The man he’d been talking with stood staring at her. She shaded her eyes from the sun, and her breath hitched in her chest. The man walking toward her, hat in his hand, looked like her husband-to-be. Logan Granger.

  “Miss Johnson? Miss Abigail Johnson?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

  Rose looked around for a moment, unable to speak. What have you got to lose, Rose? Abby’s words soared through her mind. She smiled, then extended a hand to her soon-to-be husband who, handsome as he was, looked like a scared rabbit at the moment.

  Rose sucked in her bottom lip. Logan Granger was much more pleasing to look at than his picture portrayed. Maybe a bit older now, his eyes held the same boyish twinkle in them. The sorrow so close to the surface now appeared to have taken a step back into the shadows. He easily stood a good six inches over her, but in a gentle, loving manner. Rose felt warmth in her inner core that took her by surprise.

  “Mr. Logan Granger?” She withdrew her hand when Logan made no attempt to take it. He’s disappointed in me. Probably thinking he’s made a big mistake in sending for a bride without first seeing what she at least looked like.

  Rose sighed, tucked away the stray strands of hair falling along her cheek, and straightened to her full five-foot four-inch frame. Maybe Logan Granger isn’t as well educated as they first thought. His manners were certainly lacking.

  “You’re Miss Abigail Johnson?” His smiling question lit a fire in her stomach. She was in a lot of trouble, and she knew it. Oh, not the kind that would land her on the wrong end of a switch. No, it was the kind that could end up breaking her heart.

  “Yes, yes I am. I’m sorry if I’m somewhat of a disappointment to you and not what you expected.
I thought my letter was quite clear.” Rose stood on the platform worrying the clasp of her pocketbook, unsure of what she should do. Butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach in anticipation. If he sent her away, she’d be lost or worse. She had no money. No way to go back to Wisconsin, not sure that she could dare go back, or go any other place for that matter. “I can see that you are taken by surprise. If you’d be so kind as to tell me where I might find a place to inquire about work, you’ll be free to find another more suitable wife to manage your household and raise your daughter.”

  “Huh? No, no, not at all. You’ve come all this way. It’s just that, you did, in fact, take me by surprise. I pictured more of a matronly lady had answered my advertisement.” Logan took her by the elbow, and a shot of electricity clipped through her. “I’m sorry for my poor manners. I am Logan Granger and you will do just fine, Miss Johnson. I’ll have someone get your belongings as soon as we see Preacher Samuels.”

  “Really, that won’t be necessary Mr. Granger. These are the only items I brought with me.” Rose ran her hands over the skirt of her bedraggled dress. The calico print soiled in spots from the endless days and nights spent aboard the train. With no fresh dress to change into, this was the best she’d look on her wedding day.

  “As for my letter, a good friend of mine wrote to you on my behalf.” She wasn’t exactly lying about it. “She knew I wouldn’t, and thought your proposal perfect for my situation.”

  “Hmm, and what might that situation be, Miss Johnson?” Logan observed her with suspicion. Her face started to burn, she looked away afraid that he’d see the fear that raced through her.