Chapter Three

Relief and worry warred within Sam Wright's chest. Thanks to the efforts of himself and the other sheriffs in Chase County, Olivia Talbot would not become the newest attraction at either of the two sporting houses in town. Yet, here she sat, penniless by her own admission and without a roof over her head. As much as he wished things could have played out differently for her, he had no regrets about apprehending Boone "Buckshot" Henry. For months, he and the other lawmen from the bordering counties had scoured their respective territories in search of the gang that had enticed innocent women to come West. Instead of home and hearth, they found themselves employed in a sordid profession.

When he found Boone Henry right under his nose hiding out at Nate Forester's spread, folks said it was a lucky break, but Sam knew it was a result of his training as a U.S. marshal, sleeping under the stars, crawling on his belly during a stakeout, and riding until he could barely walk. But after ten years of chasing outlaws, bank robbers, and vigilantes, he'd had enough. So, when word reached him about a sheriff's position opening up in Cottonwood Falls, he turned in his badge and headed south from Abilene. The fact that a cabin along with a parcel of land, and a small herd was included in the job was a bonus. He wasn't a cattleman by any means, but the two dozen steers and a milch cow gave him something to look forward to at the end of his shift.

He'd put his dream of a family on hold during his time with the marshals but since taking this job and having a home to welcome a wife, he'd been having second thoughts. He ran a hand down his heavily stubbled cheek. But that meant he'd have to spruce himself up and find a woman he could live with for the next fifty years or so.

Glancing down at Olivia Talbot, his breath hitched when she turned to him. He'd seen his share of pretty girls in his line of work. But Olivia was a woman grown, and he'd bet that beneath her coat she had curves that would fit a man's hands. Escaping wisps of mahogany-colored hair thread with strands of red and gold framed her smooth cheeks. Despite the tears trembling on her lashes, there was both a delicacy and strength in her face, and she was looking at him as if he had the answers to her dilemma.

"Any suggestions on what I should do, Sheriff?" She gave a choked, desperate laugh. For a moment Sam feared she was either becoming hysterical or finding humor in her situation. He'd come across some jilted brides but they had been fortunate to have enough coin to return home.

A stiff gust of wind blew more snow onto the platform and Sam realized they'd been sitting on the bench for so long they hadn't noticed the snow had picked up in intensity. If he didn't find shelter for Miss Talbot, she'd end up sleeping in the jail for the night.

Wouldn't that just give the gossips something to chew on with their morning coffee?

He looked in the direction of the boardinghouse. "For the short term, I'm taking you to Aggie Clegg's boardinghouse. If anyone can help us come up with a plan, it's her."

Sam picked up the carpetbag and sewing machine in one hand and motioned for her to follow.

"What about my trunk?"

He tugged his hat lower. "I'll bring it to you tomorrow." When they stepped off the platform, the gust hit them full force. Specks of ice and snow flew in their faces and he put his arm around her shoulders to steady them.

Sam felt her stiffen and she glanced up at him as though to say something. He supposed that putting his arm around her was inappropriate from her point of view. Before she could speak, an even stronger blast of wind and snow hit.

Miss Aggie's boardinghouse wasn't anything special, but it was a sight better than a room above the saloon. Sam had briefly rented a room from her when he first arrived in town. And since he'd helped her with some rowdy guests in his official capacity, he hoped she'd return the favor.

He waited to speak until they'd both caught their breath and brushed the snow from their clothing. "I assume you can sew a seam," he said, indicating the sewing machine in his hand. "What else can you do? Cook? Clean?"

A gasp pushed its way past Olivia's lip at his bluntness, but Sam didn't have patience for female hysterics. "You've already told me you have little money. I need to know what skills you could barter for your room and board."

Despite the persistent despair in her eyes and every curve in her body speaking annoyance, she rummaged through her purse. "Here," she slapped a handful of coins into his palm. "This is all the money I have in the world. The only other item of worth is my sewing machine, and I refuse to give it up or give it away. And yes, I can make passable meals and keep a tidy house."

Sam funneled the coins back into her purse. "I doubt if Aggie would have any use for a sewing machine. What she could use is a hand around the place." He cupped a hand around her elbow. "Let's see if she's willing to negotiate."

They found Aggie Clegg in the front parlor on her hands and knees stacking wood. "Quite a storm brewin' out there, Aggie."

"As I live and breathe, Sam Wright. Looks like you've moved on from bringin' home stray

animals to stray women." She held out a hand. "Agatha Clegg…most folks just call me Aggie."

"My name is Olivia Talbot. I am…I was Nate Forester's mail-order bride."

Aggie got to her feet, her snapping grey eyes full of questions met Sam's. Though he thought she was close in age to him, gray strands peppered her dark hair and spidery lines fanning out from her eyes made her appear much older. As one of the earliest settlers in the area, Aggie and her husband had buil t a cattle ranch on the Cottonwood River close to the mouth of Diamond Spring Creek. When the War Between the States broke out, Angus Clegg went to fight for the Union and never came back. Selling everything lock, stock, and barrel, she worked as a laundress at the boardinghouse. When the owner up and left to take a job with the railroad, she bought the place. "Hope it brings in more boarders for the night."

Sam nodded. "As you heard, this is Olivia Talbot. She arrived on the noon train. Seems she'd been duped by Boone Henry. She can't afford to return to Boston. She needs a room and is willing to negotiate a trade with you."

"Unless she's got money, I'm not interested, Sam. I've got a business to run and a living to make."

"Are you certain, Aggie? Miss Talbot is a gifted seamstress and a passable cook. She's also clever at keeping house." Sam hated half-truths. Though he had no idea what kind of seamstress Olivia was, he suspected anyone who would lug a sewing machine fifteen hundred miles on a train was fairly talented. As for a cook and housekeeper, he just repeated her words.

Aggie eyed the sewing machine at Sam's feet. "You know how to work that thing?"

"Yes, ma'am." Her voice sounded calm, her gaze steady. "Before I left Boston, I was a pattern designer and seamstress for a well-known pattern company. I also make my own clothes."

Sam gave her an appreciative sidelong look at the simple blue wool tweed walking skirt and jacket. Now that she'd lowered her hood, he glimpsed a high-collared, white blouse with lace at the neck.

"And what can you cook? I only serve breakfast here…good, honest, workingman's food."

Smothering a laugh behind a cough, Sam knew without looking that Aggie Clegg's features showed her ire. While the portions were adequate, calling her food good was far-fetched. He was certain whatever Olivia Talbot could concoct, would be far superior to the fare Aggie served.

"Most of what I cook I learned from my Auntie Dee. Baked beans, jacket potatoes, Boston Brown bread, apple and pork pie, potted cheese, and Joe Froggers." She looked at Aggie Clegg expectantly. "These are foods I grew up eating. I'm not familiar with the foods you eat in Kansas."

Sam had no idea what Boston Brown bread or Joe Froggers were, but his stomach growled at Olivia's recitation of the recipes. "How many months' boarding is it worth to you, Aggie?"

Aggie didn't change her expression. "Maybe two…three months. But only on a trial basis, you understand."

Sam shrugged and turned to Olivia. "Will three months give you enough time to get back on your feet, Miss Talbot?"

Olivia's luminous eyes widened in surprise, and Sam smiled before turning back to Aggie. "You got yourself a deal, Aggie Clegg."

A sharp businesswoman, Aggie went to the front desk and wrote on a piece of paper. She signed it and pushed it toward Olivia for her signature. The deal completed, Aggie handed her a key and started for the back of the house instructing Olivia to follow. "Your room is just off the kitchen. It ain't large, but it will do."

"Welcome to Cottonwood Falls, Miss Talbot," Sam said. "If you need anything else, you can find me at my office."

Still in a bit of a daze, she nodded but didn't move. For a moment he contemplated inviting her to supper. As quickly as the thought materialized, he dismissed it. He'd only helped her as part of his job to serve and protect. He wasn't responsible for her.

Yet he couldn't explain why he already felt the need to protect her.

Having no stationery of her own, Olivia was both thankful and delighted when Aggie produced two sheaves of paper, an envelope, an inkwell, and a stylus with an attached nub.

She put aside her pen, blotted the sheet of paper then moved the kerosene lamp closer. Her lips moved as she silently re-read the letter to Milly Crenshaw.

Dear Milly,

I hope this letter finds you well. While my journey here to Cottonwood Falls was without incident, my arrival was fraught with unsettling news. The man I'd been corresponding with, Nate Forester, has met with an unfortunate demise. As it turned out, he was attacked three months ago. An outlaw who went by the name of Boone Henry gunned down Nate and assumed his identity. In addition to these heinous offenses, he and his gang were responsible for luring women West with the promise of marriage. When the women arrived, they unfortunately found themselves ensconced in saloons, gambling halls, and houses of ill repute.

Thank heavens I was spared this indignity! Sheriff Sam Knight and a group of lawmen from surrounding towns finally tracked down the outlaws responsible and sent them off to the state penitentiary in Lansing.

However, all of this leads me to my dilemma . With insufficient funds to travel further West or return to Boston—which, I might add, I have no desire—I plan on remaining here in Cottonwood Falls for the time being. The sheriff has arranged housing for me at Miss Aggie's boarding house. In return for the rent, I'm to cook breakfast and assist Miss Aggie with the running of the house.

I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm trusting in the Lord's plan for me. This may be a temporary stopover, or it may lead to a forever home.

Please know that I do not hold you responsible for the direction my life has taken. The few letters Nate and I exchanged showed him to be an honest, hard-working Christian man…just as he'd presented himself to you.

Please give my regards to Miss Wadsworth.

Sincerely

Olivia Talbot

After signing her name, Olivia slipped the letter inside the envelope. She addressed the front and propped it up near the lamp. Tomorrow, after breakfast and her morning chores were done, she'd walk to the mercantile, pay the two-cent postage, and send it off.

Her conscience eased a bit as she studied the envelope. She told Milly the truth as she saw it. Yet, something inside her refused to elaborate on Sam Wright. She'd kept her comments polite, giving no hint that he was tall and good-looking. There was no need for Milly to get it into her head that perhaps she and the sheriff would make a good match. Though she knew Nate only through his letters, her heart was bruised, and wouldn't likely be healed any time soon

No, she'd take her own advice, the very same she shared with Milly. She'd work at the boardinghouse, keep to herself, look for suitable employment, and wait for the Lord to reveal His plan to her.