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  Daniel got down to retrieve his kill. “I’ll take this to Noah for dinner. Maybe we’ll make a night of it.”

  Will leaned on his saddle horn. “You know he’ll get cantankerous when he figures out we’re hoping he’ll want one of those brides.”

  “Yep.” He used a leather thong to tie the bird to his saddle.

  Will tipped his hat back and looked at Daniel. “Maybe he’ll take a shine to Leah.”

  “Maybe.” Daniel didn’t like the arrow of discomfort that pierced his thoughts and made him turn away to look at the sky. He relived a brief moment of jealousy, remembering the hug Leah had impulsively given Will. His friend had appeared startled and exchanged a glance of confusion with him over her golden head. Daniel prayed he’d either get used to thinking of Leah with someone else or the good Lord would send him his own wife to change his confusing feelings about her.

  Before the war Daniel had stood back and watched as Will courted Leah. She had shown his best friend favor. Daniel had never told either of them how he felt about her, but Will had figured it out. Things had been tense at first, and they hadn’t talked about it at length, but Daniel had assured Will that if he made Leah happy, so be it.

  After the men had joined the army, Will and Leah’s separation had made communication difficult, and eventually the two had ended their courtship. Daniel and Will had come to terms with the past a long time ago. Life was too uncertain to hold grudges stemming from circumstances that were out of their control. They’d seen each other through days and nights with little to no rations, dug graves side by side, mourned comrades left where they’d fallen and bolstered each other’s grit and determination when death had seemed the easy way out. Leah’s arrival might muddy the waters in respect to their plan for brides, but her presence wouldn’t come between them. He’d see to that.

  They spotted Noah digging a post hole. It appeared a section of fence had been broken or trampled. “Did buffalo do that?” Will called. “We saw a small herd.”

  Noah squinted at them from beneath the brim of his hat and leaned on the handle of his shovel until they got close. His hat shaded his face and eyes from the sun, and beneath the brim his collar-length hair was dark with sweat. “What brings you two out here? Wasn’t this the big day?”

  “It was.” Daniel got down and hobbled his horse. Will did the same.

  “Everything go as planned?”

  “Cowboy Creek has a friendly preacher and four new marriageable women,” Will told him.

  “That’s what you wanted.” Noah gripped the shovel and continued digging the hole.

  Will went for one of the posts in the back of Noah’s wagon and Daniel grabbed a sledgehammer.

  “So, it all went well and you came out here to be ranch hands this afternoon?” Noah still had a Virginia drawl. The burn scars on the side of his face stood out white in contrast to the rest of his face, which was red from exertion and the sun. The scars extended down his arm and on his chest, as well, and were the biggest reason he stayed to himself and rarely went into town.

  They’d met the southerner when the 155th Pennsylvania Regiment had marched to Washington. Opposed to slavery, Noah had left behind his home and family to fight for his beliefs and joined the army at the Potomac in ’62. Only a year later, as they joined the fray at Gettysburg, Noah’s gun backfired at the Battle of Little Round Top and ignited a fire that left him badly burned.

  His discharge from the army had been all the more difficult for him because Noah had always believed that as a born southerner he had to fight harder than any northerner. His bravery had been an example to all the men who fought with him, but he’d been forced to leave due to his injuries. That’s when he’d come to Kansas and staked his claim.

  “I shot a turkey for supper,” Daniel said. “Thought we’d stay.”

  “Daylight’s burnin’.” Noah’s reply was terse as always.

  Daniel and Will glanced at each other and bent to the task.

  Near sundown, the fence repairs were finished and the men headed to Noah’s cabin. Noah’s black fierce-looking companion, a cross between a dog and a wolf, greeted Noah and watched the other two men dismount. Wolf accompanied Noah to town on the rare occasions he went, and folks were wary of him. Like Noah, Wolf came across more dangerous than he was.

  The men washed at the pump in the yard, and Daniel prepared the turkey, splitting it and roasting the meat over a fire pit. Noah brought turnips from his root cellar and Will baked biscuits in a skillet. It was dark by the time they ate under the stars.

  “You remember us telling you about Leah Robinson?” Daniel asked.

  Noah tossed a turkey leg to Wolf. The dog snatched up the meat and trotted several feet away to eat. “Wasn’t that the woman Will was engaged to before the war?”

  “That’s her. She showed up today on the bride train.”

  Noah looked at them with a quizzical expression. “I thought she got married.”

  “Her husband died.”

  “In the war?”

  “I assume so.”

  “So she’s looking to remarry.”

  “She is, and I’m concerned about her.” Daniel removed his hat to rake a hand through his hair and then settled it back on his head. “The three of us grew up together. I don’t want her to make a wrong choice. She needs to find the right husband. Someone who will take care of her like she deserves.”

  “Too bad Will’s got himself a fiancée. He could marry her.”

  Daniel’s supper felt like lead in his belly at the thought.

  “We were barely more than children when we were engaged. Like it or not, the war changed us all,” Will objected. “Besides, Leah isn’t cut out to be the wife of a politician. Dora is well aware of my ambitions, and she shares my vision. What about you?”

  Noah tossed a bone into the fire and rubbed his hands together. “Don’t need a woman. There’s nothing wrong with my life the way it is.”

  “You have a great life out here,” Will agreed. “But companionship is a good thing.”

  “Don’t need a companion, and don’t ask me again.”

  “All right, all right,” Will said in exasperation. “Don’t get your tail feathers all ruffled.” He glanced at Daniel. “How about Owen Ewing then? He has a flourishing business. He’s a fine cabinetmaker.”

  Daniel cast him a dark scowl. “He’s also the undertaker. That would never do. Not for Leah.”

  “You’re not getting squeamish on us, are you?” Noah asked.

  “I wouldn’t be the one marrying him. Leah is a lady of refined sensibilities. She can’t live in a home where there are bodies in the basement. The other ladies would snub her.”

  “He might have a point,” Will said.

  Noah shrugged. “Quincy’s a good man. Honest as the day is long. Hardworking. He’s only in his thirties. He looks like a man women would take to, doesn’t he?”

  “A lawman’s job is too hazardous,” Daniel objected. “He’s not salaried, you know. He gets paid by the arrest, so he’s motivated to get himself into some tight spots going after criminals. A wife would worry about a man in that position. And, worst case scenario, he might get killed. You never know. She’s already lost one husband.”

  Will and Noah both nodded, and Noah poured them cups of coffee. “This is like the old days, the three of us eating under the sky,” he commented.

  “Except the food is better and there’s more of it,” Will said.

  They sipped their coffee and discussed a couple more candidates that Daniel rejected for one reason or the other.

  The firelight flickered across Noah’s scarred cheek as he peered at Daniel. “Seems the best choice for Leah’s new husband is you.”

  Chapter Three

  Daniel’s last sip went down the wrong way and he choked. He coug
hed and cleared his throat. “Me? I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? You don’t have dead bodies in your basement. You aren’t a lawman, so your life isn’t at risk. You don’t have an old father to take care of and you don’t scratch your neck all the time.” Noah listed all the reasons for which Daniel had just rejected the last husbands under consideration. “She knows you. She is fond of you, am I right?”

  “She’s fond of him,” Will supplied. “She tucked her arm right into his and chatted with him all the way to the boardinghouse.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’d want to marry me.”

  His friends raised their eyebrows at Daniel’s ardent objection.

  “She doesn’t see me like that. Never has.”

  He’d thought of nothing but that walk to the boardinghouse, about the delicate curve of her cheek and the sweep of her lashes. She was still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. She’d been wearing her pale hair caught up on her head, but he remembered it curling around her shoulders as a girl. Leah had always been full of life. She’d ridden with them, run alongside the riverbank barefoot, practiced shooting at tin cans and held her own.

  Some nights during the war while he’d been sleeping on the ground in the cold and rain, he’d dreamed of seeing the sun glint from her hair as it had that afternoon. He’d heard the sound of her full-throated laughter that turned his insides to warm honey. And then he’d awaken and the present would grasp him in its cold, unforgiving fingers. The notion that she was here in Cowboy Creek now, looking for a man to marry, tied him in knots.

  Will tossed the dregs of his coffee into the fire and it hissed. “You’re one of the three wealthiest men in Cowboy Creek, probably in all of Kansas.”

  “I wouldn’t want her to marry me for my money.”

  “You’re reasonably handsome. To a woman,” Noah added.

  Daniel signified his annoyance with a snort.

  “You already have a house ready and waiting for a wife,” Will said. “Don’t try to say you didn’t build that house with a woman in mind. You want a wife. She needs a husband. You can help establish her in town.”

  “That seems so...” Swallowing hard, Daniel sat with elbows on his knees and rubbed his chin. “Calculated. Impersonal.”

  “Any marriage she makes now will be calculated,” Noah pointed out. “And marrying you is more personal than marrying a stranger. You’re already friends.”

  To her they were friends. To him she was the woman who had always been just out of his reach. This idea seemed like a backhanded way of fulfilling his boyish dreams. But the war had changed him. He was no longer the naïve, lovelorn boy he’d once been.

  “Who else do you trust with Leah?” Will asked.

  Daniel scraped a knuckle on his jaw as he thought. No one. He didn’t trust anyone with her welfare...her future. Nor did he want her marrying another man. “I’d...” He stopped short and considered. “I’d have to propose to her. Court her.” He glanced up and regarded the two men. “Would I have to court her?”

  Will grinned.

  He would have to swallow his pride to ask her to marry him. And even if he did, there was no guarantee she’d have him. “What if she won’t have me?”

  “If she won’t have you, then I’ll court her,” Noah said. Which told them all how profoundly he believed Leah would marry Daniel. “Let her decide for herself.”

  He would do it. He would ask Leah to marry him. He would lay out all the reasons why he was the best choice. And then he’d let her decide.

  Daniel felt something more than he’d felt for a long time. He didn’t want to let himself think of Leah in the big house he’d built on Lincoln Boulevard just yet. He didn’t want to picture her in the rooms he’d walked through when the house was a mere shell, before burnished flooring, paint and fixtures had made it a home. He’d always had a faceless woman in mind. As he’d surveyed the land and overseen construction he’d planned that one day he’d share the home with a wife. But Leah’s image, with her bright blue eyes and soft pale hair, was all he could envision now. He had his doubts about the wisdom of this decision, but along with his reluctance he felt more than he’d felt in a long time.

  He felt hope.

  * * *

  Leah woke early and ate breakfast in Aunt Mae’s dining room with the other brides and the full-time boarders. Gus Russell had stark white hair and still stood straight. The lines at the corners of his wise dark eyes were evidence of his years in the sun. “Cowboy Creek got a windfall when you young gals showed up,” he said.

  Old Horace wore his long gray hair pulled back with a leather thong. He had been tall in his day and was still lean, but his back was hunched so he was always looking up. “Why if I’d a knowed these fillies would be so purdy, I mighta got a haircut and throwed my hat in the ring.”

  “Wouldn’t any of these young ladies want a dried-up old coot like you,” Gus countered.

  Old Horace bristled. “I still got my charm. Down in Mexico I was quite a ladies’ man.”

  Gus stabbed a piece of sausage from a platter. “The Mexican War was over twenty years ago and you were an old man then.”

  “Did you fight for the annexation of Texas?” Hannah asked.

  “For two years,” Horace replied.

  “Mr. Gardner is showing me the church this morning,” Reverend Taggart said to his daughter. “I thought you might like to join us.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m still tired from the trip,” she answered. “Is it all right with you if I rest this morning?”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” her father replied. “You rest. I imagine you’ll want to check out available locations for your shop when you’re up to it.”

  She gave him an affectionate smile. Hannah was a talented seamstress and made all of her own clothing.

  Leah cast her a curious glance. “You’re planning a shop?”

  Hannah nodded. “I’ve always wanted to have my own dressmaking establishment. This place seems like the perfect opportunity, with new businesses cropping up everywhere and more women arriving. I might not have many customers at first, but I’m sure business will flourish as the town grows.”

  Which reminded Leah of her own plans for the morning. She was going to visit the newspaper about an advertisement. “The newspaper office is right next door to us here, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “I’m heading there right after breakfast,” Prudence replied. She wore a plain brown dress, with her ever-present cameo at her throat.

  “We might as well walk over together then,” Leah suggested.

  “Actually I went late yesterday, too,” Prudence said. “I got a position.”

  “My, my, isn’t that news?” Aunt Mae exclaimed. “What if you get a husband who lives outside town, dear?”

  Prudence glanced at the others around the table. “I will choose one who either lives in town or nearby.”

  Old Horace squinted at her. “Do you have newspaper experience?”

  “D.B.—er, Mr. Burrows has assured me my help is quite welcome.”

  “Perhaps Mr. Burrows is in the market for a wife,” Aunt Mae added with a wry lift of one eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be convenient?”

  Prudence pursed her lips in exasperation. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I’m significantly impressed you’ve found a position so quickly,” Pippa said. “Perhaps you could employ your curious side and find the latest news on all the residents.”

  “We got news for ya,” Old Horace chimed in.

  “Facts are what we need,” Gus reminded him “That newspaper has a reputation for blowing the truth out of proportion. Why, this town was still a row of clapboard buildings and tents, and The Herald was already calling it a boomtown.”

  “It is a boomtown, you old fool,” Old Horace rebutted.


  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going.” Prudence set down her napkin and stood.

  Leah watched her go. She was the least friendly of all the women who had traveled west together. Leah understood Prudence was widowed, as well, so perhaps she was still grieving and not ready for friendships. Everyone handled grief their own way. “May I help you with the breakfast dishes?” she asked Aunt Mae.

  “Goodness, no. You’re a paid renter, even if the town is paying your rent for a few weeks. The dishes are my job.”

  “Thank you. It was a nice meal.” Leah took care of a few last-minute things, and then walked next door.

  D.B. Burrows was a tall fellow with muttonchop sideburns and pale skin. He was standing at a worktable when she entered. “Morning,” he offered.

  “Good morning. I’d like to place an ad, please.”

  “Miss Haywood will get all the information,” he told her.

  Leah hadn’t seen Prudence sitting behind a partition until she stood and reached for paper and ink.

  Leah recited what she’d planned for her ad.

  “There aren’t many women around here yet,” D.B. said.

  “I understand that,” Leah answered. “Hopefully, people will read it and remember me when my midwife services are needed.”

  D.B. wiped his hands and moved to stand beside Prudence. He stood a little too close in Leah’s opinion, but the young widow didn’t seem to mind as she showed him what she’d written. “That’s good,” he praised.

  This seemed awfully quick, but maybe theirs would be the first marriage, just as Aunt Mae had suggested. Or Leah was reading more into their new employer and employee relationship than was there. She paid for the ad. “Do I remember seeing the doctor’s sign on this street?”

  D.B. nodded. “Keep walking the way you came here and on past the jail. Across the street on the corner is Doc Fletcher’s place. If he’s not in, there’s a chalkboard.”