Chapter 2

“I told you Ma, there was nothing I could do. When Miss or maybe I should say when ‘Widow’ Donovan arrived—with this little orange-headed brat in tow—I told her about Sam, and then escorted her to the hotel. I did my duty, end of story.”

This was not the reception he expected when arriving at his brother’s ranch this evening. The Wilersons, Hamners, and some friends were all here celebrating Jacob and Rania’s engagement. As a surprise for his Swedish immigrant bride, Jacob had painted the washhouse a dark “Falun Red” and planted flowers around the little building to remind Rania of her childhood home in Sweden. Picnic tables were set up outside by the backyard “Swedish scene” and everyone was seated, enjoying a bountiful food spread when he arrived.

Adam was ready to sit down and fill his own plate, but that changed in an instant when he told his mother why he was late. His ma was at his side with her finger pointed up in the air at his nose in a second.

Four women stared at him, like he was a dunce that should be standing with his nose in the corner of the old school house.

“How could you be so rude and crude, Adam? I raised you better than that,” his mother, Cate, asked in exasperation. It had been a long time since she’d ask that question. Probably then she looked down at him, not up. It didn’t help that his sister, Sarah, and the blonde Hamner twins, Rania and Hilda—at least still seated—all had their arms crossed in unison disgust at him too. His brother Jacob sat smirking and probably thinking, you’re in deep manure now, Brother.

Adam thought they’d be glad that the woman had finally arrived, and been told of Sam’s demise so she could get on with her life.

Instead, the women asked him umpteen questions that he never thought to ask Miss Donovan. Where did she come from and what was she going to do now? Why didn’t they know she had been married before and had a son? Why didn’t he take them to the café to eat a meal before checking them into the hotel? And there was room in the hotel, right, even with all the cattlemen coming into the area with the cattle drives?

That last questions did make him a little uneasy because he wasn’t positive she got a room. The whole family had read the letters that Millie Donovan had written to Sam, so the women felt invested in the drama. Apparently they were wishing they could have met the lady themselves, because they asked—in detail—what Millie looked like.

“So which picture was she, Adam?” Hilda, Rania’s outspoken twin was asking about the four photographs they had all studied, but he never looked at the photographs again after hearing Miss Donovan say “Mr. Larson.”

“Don’t know, Hilda. I didn’t stop and compare each one next to her face.” Adam picked up a chicken leg from his plate and attacked it to fill his mouth with something to chew on besides his blasted conscience.

Adam thought of Millie’s red hair, a few tight curls hanging loose from her tight bun. Her green Basque shirtwaist and black skirt weren’t very clean, but after traveling on a dirty train with that crying boy—it’s a wonder she didn’t look worse. He did feel sorry for her having to handle the child alone, though. Maybe the boy was sick. He was so thin and he cried the whole time Adam saw him, well, except when he spied his marshal’s star. Then the kid had a screaming meltdown.

Where did she come from? He had no idea if she had been on the train for a day or a week. What kind of marshal was he? It was his job to know what was going on in town and that young woman and child had just fogged up his brain. Why?

Ethan Paulson, Sarah’s fiancé, leaned forward and added to the conversation, “I’m sure the Simpson Hotel is full, because we’ve had constant visitors asking when our new hotel will be open. As soon as we have the open house and wedding, it will be full to capacity.”

Adam glanced over at Sarah, who had stopped glaring at him to look down at her plate. The Paulson family was near to completion with their new hotel, and planned for Ethan and Sarah to manage it, while living there. Their wedding was to be the hotel’s open house event. Ethan was a good man, handsome with his slicked back blonde hair, but more than a decade older than Sarah. The spark of wedding excitement wasn’t in Sarah’s eyes like they were in Rania’s. Adam hated for Sarah to settle for a loveless marriage, but his mother insisted that it was her call and the brothers were to stay out of it.

“Is there somewhere else she can stay?” Rania inquired. “I suppose the boarding houses are full too.”

“I heard the two houses in town are full with permanent boarders at the moment,” answered Ethan, since he had the inside track on the lodging in town.

His mother finally sat back down. “Please check to be sure they are in the hotel tonight, Adam. You owe that to Sam, and you be sure they get on the train tomorrow too. Will she travel back to her sister’s?”

“Ah. I don’t think so. Her sister died while she was there.” Adam cringed and squeezed his eyes shut, because he knew his mother was going to really be steamed when he revealed that tidbit.

”Adam Moses Wilerson...”

Adam had already decided he would confirm with the hotel manager that Miss Donovan was settled into a room when he got back tonight. He always made rounds about ten o’clock to check the businesses, streets and alleys, so it wouldn’t be any extra work to be sure they were all right.

“I’ll be sure she’s all right, Ma. I assume she’ll go back on the east train…to somewhere…tomorrow, so it will be 12:15 p.m.”

The four women glanced at each other, each signaling the other with a raised eyebrow. Adam guessed one—or all of them—would be in town checking on Sam’s mail-order bride before it was time to partake of forenoon coffee.

***

Lucas Boyle stood in the open doorway of his livery stable with his arms crossed and his legs in a wide stance when Adam rode Cannon, his silver dapple dun horse, into the low light shining from a kerosene lamp hanging just inside the door.

“Who put the burr under your saddle, Boyle?” Adam questioned the man as he swung out of Cannon’s saddle.

“I just caught that little red-headed lady and her screaming tot in the hayloft again. That’s the second time I sent them on their way. I feel sorry for them, but the kid’s so noisy it’s scaring the horses in the stalls below them. Don’t know where she ended up after they left the livery, but I hope she found somewhere to get that little kid off the streets.”

“I met them by the depot earlier today. She was supposed to be Sam Larson’s mail-order bride,” Adam sighed.

“Well, why didn’t you take care of them? You’re the marshal,” Boyle asked accusingly.

Adam looked down, digging the heel of his boot in the dirt and grinding it back and forth, just like his back teeth were doing at the same time. “She said she’d take care of herself, and I delivered her to the door of the hotel before I left for Jacob’s ranch this afternoon.”

“You know that place was full, Marshal. Clancy said he caught her rummaging through the trash in the alley behind his café, too. Probably looking for food besides shelter.”

Adam tilted his head back and sighed. Lord, help me if my mother finds out that fact. “Which way did they go? I’ll go look for them after I take care of Cannon.”

“I’ll take care of your horse tonight, you see after that mother and her baby.”

“Yes, Sir,” Adam muttered. Now he had another concerned parent stewing after the two wandering strangers.

Adam hunted up and down Main Street, the alleys behind all the businesses and every other place he could think of—before finding them—no, hearing them—in an abandoned chicken house. He had just given up, walked in the back door to his own little house behind the jailhouse, and then heard whimpering—from the tiny shack in his own backyard.

He went into the kitchen, to light a lantern before venturing into the dark backyard. After a second thought, he pulled his revolver before opening up the chicken house door and swinging the lantern into the doorway. A second later he peeked around the corner, not wanting his chest blown to bits in case he was wrong and it was a thief, or drunk with a gun.

Miss Donovan was crouched in the corner, shielding the boy with her body, with one hand up to keep the bright lantern light from shining in her eyes.

“Miss Donovan, would you please come out of my chicken house?”

“Marshal Wilerson?”

“Yes. Please come out.”

“No. Tate needs some shelter tonight and this seems to be it in town,” she wearily answered Adam.

“You can spend the night in the jail. It’s unoccupied at the moment.” Holding the lantern high to shine the way, Adam saw Miss Donovan struggle with the boy and two bags again. “I’ll get the bags. You carry the boy to the jail.”

Adam watched Miss Donovan stand stiffly before hitching the whimpering boy higher up on her hip. The kid was swaddled in a ladies’ dress and the woman didn’t have on a coat. Adam realized that Miss Donovan wasn’t in much better shape than the boy when he took a good look at her hollow cheeks and the dark rings beneath her eyes. Adam felt bad, realizing the spring night had turned chilly and the pair didn’t have proper outer garments.

“Did you eat supper tonight?” Silence met his question. “Miss Donovan?”

She sighed and Adam had to lean close to her to hear say, “No, sir.”

“Don’t you have any money?”

“No, I used up my funds getting here.”

“I’m sorry to have added to your trouble by not helping you this afternoon. Let’s get into the jail where you can both lay down. It’s late, but the saloon’s kitchen should have sandwich fixings and maybe some milk for the boy, so I’ll fetch something for you to eat.”

***

Adam walked back into his house an hour later after getting the Donovans settled in the jail cell bunk. Because it was time for his late evening rounds, he did that on his way to the saloon. The barkeeper waved him to the back where he found supplies to make a couple of bread and butter sandwiches. There wasn’t any milk left from the evening so he’d be sure to bring some to the boy in the morning. The two ate the sandwiches, drank some water and promptly fell asleep as he watched over them.

He felt badly after seeing the mother and son devour those simple sandwiches. When was their last meal?

What was he going to do with them tomorrow? Adam’s mind kept pulling up the image of the little lady and her tot, causing him to stay awake for a long while.