CHAPTER 1

C HAPTE R 1

When the head of the man next to her flopped against her shoulder, Ava Gardner tensed before pushing her fellow traveler's sleepy form in the other direction. She heard his head hit the stagecoach's window frame and cringed when his face contorted to reflect something akin to anger.

His earsplitting snore caught midway in his throat, and he jolted awake, cussing in a way she had hoped never to hear again. "Pardon," he said, when he noticed her staring at him. "It's been a long day."

"The driver says we will soon arrive at the final coach stop for lunch before we reach our day's destination, Mr. Simcoe. After that, we are only a few hours away from a cozy room at the Ace Hotel." She had read the name of the establishment in one of Gracie's letters. At the time, she recalled picturing it as a grand getaway, never dreaming she might one day see it for herself.

"Saloon rooms suit me fine," Doug Simcoe said. "My throat is parched from all the trail dirt the horses kick back at us. It seems as if we've been traveling forever."

"Forever is a slight exaggeration, sir," Ava said, annoyed at the man's impatience and his lack of enthusiasm to simply be alive and on a new adventure.

To distract herself from the rude man, Ava studied the woman and young boy—whom she supposed to be approximately ten years old—seated across from her, amusing herself with silent speculation. They had not been passengers on the same westbound train she'd occupied, but appeared quite suddenly at the Farnsworth Stagecoach Depot carrying two carpet bags, their faces full of secrets. Little conversation came from their corner of the coach. Even the youngster seemed to be haunted by an inner demon, one that might even trump Ava's.

Mr. Orson Shilling, a gentleman in a three-piece suit, sat next to the child. He spoke politely when spoken to, but mostly remained aloof. Ava often caught him scrutinizing her as if he could see through the well-planned fa?ade she proudly displayed for the world to see. She'd known curious men in the past, but never while wearing the respectable traveling dress she'd purchased using the money in the envelope anonymously bequeathed to her by a well-wisher. It was just as well that they were a quiet lot, for Ava did not see the need to prove herself to strangers.

Gracie awaited her in Blazer, eager to welcome her into smalltown life. It wouldn't be long now before she would have to prove her worth to a reputable society on a day-to-day basis.

"Coach-stop coming up, folks," the driver called out. "Prepare to disembark."

Ava scanned the area outside her window, where the trees grew sparse, and the land opened up to a dirt yard. A log cabin with an appealing front porch stood at the ready to receive its guests. Ava's idea of a perfect home had always included a verandah facing the western sky, complete with a rocker and a cool glass of lemonade. It was a dream that had never died despite the direction her life had taken.

The driver steered the horses toward the structure, stopping close to the front door. A man hurried outside to help the driver with the horses while an older woman waved, beckoning for the passengers to come inside.

The mother and son were the first passengers out of the coach. On the boy's heels, the sleepy Mr. Simcoe stumbled over Ava's feet to escape the coach as he raced for the outhouse tucked discreetly between the house and the barn.

Mr. Shilling smiled apologetically." Excuse Mr. Simcoe's manners, Miss. Seems he is in need of emptying his bladder after all the whiskey he sipped from his flask."

"I believe you are right."

"Let me come around to help you disembark," he said, disappearing through the door closest to him.

She started to object, then decided it might be nice to be treated with a deliberate thoughtfulness, and she might as well start now to graciously accept spontaneous acts of kindness. He opened her door, and she leaned forward, catching the twinkle in his eye that revealed something akin to interest.

That would never do. True, Ava had started out as a mail-order bride, but for someone else other than Orson Shilling.

Even though, she'd already accepted the getaway money, she had hoped to escape the second part of the sweet deal, by slipping away quietly to a different town. She'd determined to shake her benefactor off her trail, but one never knew who lurked in the shadows. Ava must be careful at first, for men were a cunning bunch. Perhaps he watched from a distance, not eager to make a move on redeeming his prize harlot, or if his intentions had indeed been pure and she'd thrown that opportunity to the wind, so be it. Ava would not appear totally wanton—should he be watching from afar. Standing him up piqued what was left of her conscience, but Ava was not ready to go down the road of romance quite yet.

The money she could use. A man, not so much. Still, when the time came, she might consider entertaining advances from a gentleman such as Orson Shilling.

Ava took the hand he offered, for it was good practice to become comfortable in her new role, and stepped out onto the ground. He was tall and olive-skinned, his features refined and confident. The smile he offered revealed white teeth of perfect quality, a refreshing change from the men's mouths who had visited her former workplace. The aura surrounding him depicted grace and poise, and she was captivated. Perhaps she might even fit into his world…eventually.

She wondered why he chose that moment to indulge in conversation when he had avoided speaking most of the way from Farnsworth. He had been on the same train as she, but when or where he'd boarded, she did not know. The only reason she knew that much was because she'd seen him step from his statelier accommodations farther down the depot platform, from a cabin car where employees pampered the wealthier travelers, allowing them to relax during the transport. She did not choose to waste the gift of her money on such luxuries, unsure of what the cost might be to maintain her future independent status in Blazer. The economy car had served her purpose well enough.

When Mr. Shilling boarded the same stagecoach as Ava, it forced the gentleman to endure a rougher means of travel, but he appeared to manage it without whining, unlike the fellow who had parked his sorry backside beside her on the coach seat. That brand of man, she understood and would avoid at all costs in her future.

Staring into Orson's warm, welcoming eyes bewitched her into believing her new life might actually work in her favor. "Thank you, Mr. Shilling." She stepped back, breaking the connection between them, releasing a breath she'd held unconsciously.

He offered her his arm. "Shall we go inside and see what the woman has prepared for us weary travelers?"

Ava walked alongside him and asked. "Are you headed for the gold fields, sir?"

He laughed. "Do I look like the kind of man that might pan in cool waters or risk being buried in a mine for a chance at obtaining more wealth?"

"I really don't know, sir, where men of your station obtain your wealth. Hopefully, it is from a reputable source and not some greed-driven takeover at someone else's expense." Ava was surprised at her boldness, and she wondered if she should speak her mind quite so freely. Her new role as a free woman bewildered her at times. Nevertheless, she'd met many a tyrant, and she despised the power they flaunted on underlings, her included, and that opinion would never change.

"I have met the disreputable businessmen of whom you speak, but I assure you, I have not been taken in by such corruption," Orson said, looking unoffended by her question.

"I am pleased to hear that, Mr. Shilling," Ava said, relieved to see that he did not appear insulted by her question. "If not the gold fields, where is your final destination?"

"I will get off the coach about twenty-miles from Deadwood in the small town of Blazer." He studied her before blurting out, "Surely, a fine lady such as yourself is not interested in the Black Hills gold rush?"

Ava stood a little straighter, appreciating the fact that he viewed her as a lady. It seemed the newly purchased wardrobe was doing its job. "No. I have a cousin in Blazer, and she has promised to help me to resettle."

The tension left his face. "Perfect. Do you mind if I look you up while I am in town?"

Ava felt the heat rise from her neck into her face. She knew of all the lines a man could possibly throw at a woman in the hope of winning her favor, but in her experience, self-interest ruled their motives and inspired the flattery. Orson Shilling's comment and the integrity showing on his face appeared authentic, as near as she could tell, but then Ava had not been around his kind, enough to figure out what made them tick.

"That would be fine, Mr. Shilling. I am told it is a small town, so we, no doubt, will surely encounter one another at some time."

Orson bowed his head ever so slightly. It was a show of respect that had not yet lost its glowing effect on the woman. When he dropped her arm, he motioned for her to proceed him into the cabin.

The fragrance of his aftershave was quickly replaced by the sweet smell of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls.

The woman of the house graciously provided basins of warm water, soap, and towels to the dusty travelers, and when Ava's skin tingled with the feeling of cleanliness, she turned her attention to the table. The setting was simple. No fuss had been made on the part of the hostess to portray an image that might serve to contrast the rustic cabin.

Ava sat, and soon, the other four from the coach and the driver joined her.

The meal served on the rectangular table was equally plain, but the tasty spices added to the beef stew and the mix of finely cut vegetables spoke highly of the cook's ability to give flare to the simple. The fluffy dumpling she took from the bowl melted in her mouth, leaving her wanting seconds. She wondered if ladies indulged in seconds, and she watched the mother to see, but the woman did not partake, and Ava held her craving at bay. It was worth the discipline when the cinnamon rolls and a strong cup of tea appeared to finish off the luncheon. That would be the last of the food available until they arrived in Blazer later that evening.

Ava's excitement mounted. Her cousin had described Blazer in the letters she'd received from her over the past two years, and Ava almost felt as if she could walk anywhere within the town limits blindfolded. When Gracie heard that Ava was coming to South Dakota, she sought to correct the exaggerated portrayal of her new hometown, claiming she'd initially viewed it through rose-colored glasses, filtered through her own personal escape from a life of dread. Regardless, Ava would gladly settle for her more recent and balanced description. Anything was better than the wild city and all of the memories from which she'd fled.

The cousins had only met once, when Ava was five years old, and she was still innocent as to the path her life might take. Gracie's rough times ended when she found her home sweet home in the upper-middle section of the country. It seemed only proper that when the opportunity for Ava to relocate presented itself, she would flee to family, avoiding Crater Valley where her betrothed—who had most graciously funded her escape—waited for his mail-order bride. The thought that he could do much better than her, made her rest easier with her decision to take the money and run.

Ava hoped that perhaps her true soulmate occupied the same town as the man who had stolen her cousin's heart. Could there be another fellow ready and willing to shower Ava with unconditional love, the same as Slate Yagger had done for Gracie? That remained to be seen.

Horse's hooves thundered, and the sound of the line's jingling passed by the open doorway as a fresh team pulled the stagecoach up to the front of the building. Its arrival brought the driver to his feet.

"Thanks for the grub, Maisy," he said. To the passengers lingering at the table, he added, "We'll be pulling out in five minutes, folks."

The passengers dozed for the next hour, likely the result of having no activity after consuming a big meal, coupled with the smoother grade of the landscape.

Ava closed her eyes, but sleep evaded her. The fantastic but unexpected adventure with which she'd been gifted consumed her being, and she wondered at the reason her donor would give for having picked her from all of the wayward girls in the saloon to fulfill his mission of compassion. Surely that was the only reason a man of worth might marry a lost soul such as herself. The envelope containing the money and note as to where to meet her benefactor, had been given to her by the Dodge City Bank manager, who would not divulge the source. The note read: "Take the funds and leave town, wiping the dust of the city behind you. Meet me in Crater Valley, where the preacher awaits. God's blessings are new every morning. Walk in them as you seek to find a new beginning, one the Lord has in store for you." By the mention of God, she figured the person to be a Christian with an abundance of wealth and a sense of duty to help the ‘least of these.' She did not want to be pitied. She'd done what she had to do to survive, and she would not have some do-gooder holding it over her head.

She recalled hearing that last phrase quoted years before, by a man behind a pulpit who'd passed around a collection plate, petitioning churchgoers to help the poor—the least of these. It was the one and only time her overly-proud father had taken his family to a house of God. She wondered if he'd been put off because he had no offering to give or if it reminded him of the sad state of his finances.

Young Ava received her answer the following day. When the same preacher arrived at the Gardners' front door, an abandoned shack that sheltered them from the weather, Pa made them all hide in the back room. The preacher and his wife left a few minutes later with the food basket still in their buggy—a failed attempt at their well-meaning generosity.

Ava's tummy grumbled the rest of that day, every time she thought of the provisions her father had denied his hungry family. She cried herself to sleep due to the cramps in her underfed belly, pledging to never again refuse a free gift should someone attempt to help her in the future.

That opportunity never knocked on her door again, not until three weeks ago when the banker arrived.

The distraught young woman neither hid nor declined the gift, and she made immediate plans to leave town as the donor had stipulated, minus the condition of the meeting place. Whether the "blessings every morning" to which he referred would continue without the patron's continued support, she had no idea, as the concept of acknowledging miracles from a heavenly source was foreign to the unchurched woman. Perhaps she would search out a congregation in Gracie's town to help her understand the words the preacher taught from the Bible.

Ava's first view of Blazer was a gorgeous sunset in the westerly sky. She watched as they passed the shops and services along the main street, ticking each one off in her mind. In her estimation, Gracie's initial observation of the town provided Ava the same thrill, settling deep in her soul. She vowed never to let the wonder of freedom and choices lessen in her heart of thanksgiving.

She felt eyes on her and found Mr. Shilling staring again. He was a strange man, opening up to her for that one brief discussion at the stage stop, becoming as close-mouthed as ever when the journey continued after lunch. She smiled at him, and he nodded politely.

Ava doubted she would ever be able to figure out a man's mind.

Orson bolted from the coach as soon as the wheels stopped turning, and he rushed to the far side, where the mother and boy were emerging. He offered her a hand, and she stared at it as if confused at what to do with it. Eventually, she accepted his help and stepped down onto the ground.

The boy jumped down behind her, staying close to her full skirt. It was odd for a boy his age, but Ava doubted his maturity had reached his ten years for whatever reason. The world appeared full of hard cases.

His smile broadened when Ava's body framed the coach's doorway, and she gladly accepted his hand when he offered to help her disembark. She hoped her cousin was nearby, watching. She did not wish to appear downtrodden in person—as much of their correspondence had been by mail. The fact that a gentleman would take the time to show kindness at the end of her long journey should encourage Gracie that a suitable match might soon rescue her from becoming a permanent guest in the Yagger home.

"Thank you, Mr. Shilling. It has been pleasant traveling this last leg of the journey with you. I hope you enjoy your time in Blazer."

He only had time to touch the rim of his hat before a woman passed him, drawing Ava into her embrace. "Ava Gardner—I'd know you anywhere. You still have those cute dimples I envied when we were children."

"Gracie," Ava said, unconvinced she in turn might recognize her hostess anywhere, and she said so in a lighthearted manner. "I see that you have put on some weight."

"Oh, yes. Our first baby. And, of course, I told you about Blanche, the young girl we adopted. Who would have thought I'd love being a mother?"

Ava also yearned for a family, but she would first need a man of great understanding to accept her as is. Perhaps Slate Yagger had a friend who might be equally considerate. "If I recall correctly, you always loved your doll, treating her like a living baby."

"Blanche has taken over, and now, she cares for it as delicately as I did. I thank the Lord for the precious memories."

"As do I, cousin."

"You must be exhausted, and here I stand holding you captive in the street." Gracie reached for her hand. "Come on. Blanche is waiting for us at home, guarding her freshly baked cake that is as lopsided as she can be at times. Her heart was in the right place while laboring over the welcoming cake, and I couldn't take that joy from the girl by criticizing her efforts."

"I'm sure it will be delicious. As we both know, appearance is not always what's important," Ava said, her attention drawn to a depot worker who emerged from the building to unload the passengers' bags from the top of the coach. "What about my cases?"

"Slate said he'd swing by when he's finished work to pick them up." She called up to the driver who collected his gun and sack before climbing down from the upper bench. "Hos, you can bring Miss Jenkins' belongings inside the depot for Slate to pick up later."

"I would do anything for the prettiest expectant mother in all of Blazer," he said when his feet hit the ground.

"I suspect I might be the only one at the moment, but a lady loves to hear compliments from a man as fine as you," she said to the aging driver.

Ava noticed her companion lingering nearby, watching her interaction with Gracie. When their eyes met, he smiled and picked up his suitcase. She called out to him, "Mr. Shilling, Ace's Hotel is just a short jaunt from here," Ava said as she pointed to her right and across the street. She turned to receive confirmation from her cousin. "Am I right, Gracie?"

"Yes, you are a good student of my letters," Gracie said, nodding affirmation at the man Ava had addressed.

"I memorized the layout of your town in anticipation of this place becoming my new home," Ava said.

"Good day, ladies," Orson said, moving down the street at a lively pace.

"Now, who was that dear man?" Gracie asked, her eyelids flickering in a teasing manner.

"Not sure when he got on the train, but he got off in Farnsworth, same as me, and boarded the stagecoach. I figured he was headed for the gold mines, but no. It appears he has business in Blazer." Ava arched her brows questioningly.

"Don't look so surprised. Blazer is an enterprising community that attracts all kinds of businesspeople. Sometimes, I wish it would stop growing. I don't want it to lose its smalltown, country charm." Gracie scanned the area, and Ava could tell that her cousin loved the settlement she now called home.

Ava clutched the purse she always carried with her and sighed. "Shall we go to your house now? I would love nothing more than to put my feet up and sip a cup of hot tea."

"Of course," Gracie said. "I'm daydreaming again. Slate says I am my own worst enemy when it comes to keeping a rein on my schedule. There are so many distractions."

The two ladies headed off down the road in the opposite direction of the hotel. "It's an easy walk. You'll love your room. I put you in the same guestroom Slate provided for me on our wedding night. I hardly knew how to respond to such an understanding and patient man."

"Oh, he sounds wonderful, Gracie. I am so happy for you."

"There is a man out there just waiting to meet you and make your every dream come true."

"I stopped dreaming a long time ago," Ava said.

"Then you need to start again. You've made it out of your fiery pit and have lived to see a brighter day. That is fertile ground on which to grow hope." Gracie bumped her cousin's arm playfully. "That, and your mystery donor you left behind. How ever will you go to your grave not knowing the identity of the man who changed your life?"

"I would prefer that to marrying the man in Crater Valley. Even his hometown sounds depressing. I tried to guess, but I wound up eliminating all of my contacts in Dodge City, and was no further ahead. I may never uncover his identity, but I would like to be given the opportunity to thank the person for showing such kindness to me, gifting me freedom beyond my wildest imagination."

"When I was in dire straits before coming to Blazer, an affluent man to support me would have been a lifesaver, but I have learned that riches and happiness do not necessarily go hand in hand. Slate is well off. I was lucky in that respect, but that's not what I love about him."

"Intuitively, I suppose I knew that," Ava said. "It gave me the courage to run from a marriage of convenience, one that likely came with trappings of a different kind. That envelope supplied me with all the funds necessary to start up an independent life of my own."

Ava stood at the gate for a long moment taking it all in. The white picket fence that crept into every woman's dream was bordered by a vibrant display of low-spreading blooms that continued up both sides of the walkway. The grand, two-story home with an enormous front porch facing the street was where the newcomer swore she'd spend all her free time. There was, no doubt, a fireplace behind a wall of differently shaped, colorful stones where smoke presently billowed from the chimney. Last, but not least, came something practical: a small barn behind the house for the horses, with an addition jutting out to the side with a sign on the door: Outhouse.

"Oh Gracie. It's lovely."

Gracie hugged Ava. "At first, I counted it as more than I deserved, but I have a clearer understanding now of my position in this world and the next. I needed to let go of the past and embrace the future He provided for me. ‘Come as you are,' the Lord declares to weary souls, and let me tell you, He got a sorry package when I showed up on His doorstep."

"Yet, here you are, a respectable member of Blazer, with a home and a husband, soon to birth your own flesh and blood. To be so blessed seems almost like greed."

"I am so glad you thought of me when your second chance came along. You and I will be great friends; you wait and see." As an afterthought, Gracie added, "And you will find yourself a fellow of your choosing right here in Blazer, rich in the unconditional love that matters."