Captive Hearts on the Frontier Express (Preview)

Chapter One

Chicago, Illinois

Late Spring, 1882

Mira Herman stood on the front steps of the boarding school, her carpetbag in hand. She took a deep breath, casting a long look at the familiar large red-brick building. It was a bittersweet departure; she tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear nervously. 

Though she would miss the friends she had made and the familiar routines of school, Mira was excited to start the next chapter of her life. Now that she was eighteen years old, she was now considered an adult and, for the first time, she could make her own choices about where to live and what to do. The future stretched out before her, filled with possibility and adventure. 

For the most part, the teachers had been kind, and over time, the school had become a safe place. Within its walls, she had grown up, found her faith in God, and enjoyed many unique experiences she otherwise wouldn’t have had.

A few of her friends stood on the porch, waving and calling out their goodbyes. Mira smiled through her tears and waved back, promising to write as soon as she was settled. She knew she would cherish the friendships she had made here, but now it was time to look forward to a new chapter of her life. 

A carriage emerged from around the stables, the horses’ hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones. The well-dressed driver stepped down and tipped his black hat.

“Are you ready to go, miss?” he asked as he lifted her trunk and placed it in the back of the carriage. 

Mira nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Would you like your bag in the back of the carriage?” the driver asked.

Mira shook her head, clutching the carpetbag closer to her side. “I’ll keep this with me.”

“Very well, miss.”

The driver waited until Mira was settled in the carriage before climbing in himself. 

Mira settled back against the black seat as it rumbled down the tree-lined road away from the boarding school. She watched the familiar buildings and walking paths roll by, knowing it would likely be a long time before she saw them again, if ever. Tears pricked her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. 

As the carriage carried her closer to the train station and the next step of her journey, Mira’s mind wandered back through her memories of the past eleven years spent within the sheltered walls of the school.

She thought back to the day her father had first brought her to the front gates. She had been just seven years old, her small heart heavy with grief from her mother’s recent passing. Her father’s face had been unreadable as always, his expression firm beneath his well-kept beard and hat. He had gripped her small hand tightly as they walked up the front steps, the large carpet bag containing all of Mira’s possessions swinging from his other hand.

Inside the headmistress’s office, her father had spoken in low tones and signed paperwork with quick, businesslike scratches of the pen. Mira had perched on a hard wooden chair, ankles crossed politely like she had been taught. She stared at the floral patterned rug, tracing the pale green vines and mauve colored roses with her eyes to keep from crying.

When all was settled, her father had knelt down and looked her straight in the eyes. 

“Mind your manners and do as you’re told,” he had instructed gruffly. 

His large hand had engulfed her tiny one as he gave it a brief shake. And then he had risen and strode out the door without a backward glance, leaving her alone in a strange place.

Mira sighed, her eyes still fixed on the passing scenery as the carriage rolled onward. Her father had always been a distant, businesslike man. She knew he cared for her in his own way, but it was cold comfort to her. Even when she had lived with him, there had never been affectionate hugs or family dinners filled with warm conversation. The school had been her home and the teachers her guardians for most of her life. 

She thought back to her early days at the school, when she would cry herself to sleep at night, hugging one of her mother’s journals to her chest beneath the covers. She had missed her mother fiercely those first few months. 

Over the next eleven years, Mira had found solace in her faith and built friendships with the other girls. She had worked hard at her studies, dreaming of making her father proud. She had excelled in math and loved working with numbers. In fact, she had become quick at adding and subtracting large numbers in her head. 

Even though she had been fairly happy at the school, she always longed to live with her father on his ranch. If he had suddenly shown up to retrieve her, Mira would have gone with him without a backward glance. But he had made it clear in the few letters he had sent to her that he was much too busy with the ranch to allow her to visit during Christmas or even the summer months when school wasn’t in session. He had only come to see her twice the entire time she had attended the school, and those had been brief visits. 

The carriage hit a bump in the road, jolting Mira from her reverie. She glanced out the window again as the trees thinned, and they entered the outskirts of town. The Chicago train station soon came into view up ahead.

The carriage driver stopped in front of the station, and it didn’t take long for him to carry her trunk and deposit it near a stack of other baggage. Mira gave him a few coins, for which he thanked her with a wide smile and the tip of his hat before turning his attention to another possible passenger.

Mira clutched her carpetbag tightly as she stepped onto the crowded train platform. All around her, passengers bustled about, greeting loved ones and loading luggage. The hiss of the engine and the occasional train whistle added to the din. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, Mira walked toward the train cars, scanning the numbers on the sides until she found hers. She hesitated at the base of the steps leading up into the passenger car. 

“Need a hand there, miss?”

Mira turned to see a middle-aged man in a conductor’s uniform smiling kindly at her. His name tag read ‘Samuel.’

“Oh, yes, please,” Mira said. “Is this car where I need to be?”

Samuel glanced at the ticket she held out to him. “It sure is.” Taking her hand, he helped her up three steep steps and into the car. “It looks like you are riding in first class. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll come by to check on you once we are on our way.”

Mira thanked him and then looked around at the rows of cushioned benches on either side of a narrow aisle. She had to admit that while her father had rarely visited her, he had made sure all of her needs and wants were met. She was relieved that she could travel in first class, where the seats were much more comfortable. It would also keep her away from needing to interact with unsavory passengers. 

Mira settled back against the seat, hands folded tightly together. Out the window, she watched other travelers saying their goodbyes and boarding the train. A young couple soon joined her in the first-class car, giggling and whispering to each other. The woman had flowers woven into her curly blonde hair and kept looking at the man’s face tenderly. Newlyweds, no doubt. Mira smiled softly at their obvious joy, even as she felt a pang of loneliness.

She wondered if she would ever find a love like that. Her faith assured her that God had a plan for her life, but it was hard not to feel envious of the smiling couple. They had each other, while Mira was traveling halfway across the country to live with a father who was practically a stranger to her.

The train whistle blew, signaling imminent departure. With a jolt, the cars began rolling forward. Mira’s pulse quickened. This was really happening.

She turned to look out the window as the train picked up speed. The train station grew smaller and smaller, until it disappeared from view completely as they chugged out of Chicago.

Green meadows and rolling hills whisked by in a blur. They crossed over a wide river, the blue water sparkling in the early morning sunlight. Mira pressed her forehead to the glass, taking in every detail she could of the passing scenery.

“Is this your first long trip?”

Mira looked up to see an elderly woman across the aisle smiling at her. She hadn’t realized that another passenger had joined her, she had been so wrapped up in her thoughts. 

“Is it that obvious?” Mira said with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’ve got that look about you,” the woman said. “My name’s Rosemary Hickens. Where are you heading, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m Mira Herman,” she replied. “I’m going to live with my father in Plainwater, Colorado.”

“Plainwater! I know that town well,” Rosemary said, her face brightening. “I used to live near there before my late husband and I moved back East. You’ll love it, especially the sunsets. The sky glows the most beautiful orange behind the mountains.”

Mira’s nerves eased a little. It was nice to hear something positive about the unfamiliar town that would soon become her permanent home.

“Do you have family there?” Rosemary asked kindly.

“Just my father,” Mira explained. “It’s been many years since I’ve seen him.”

Rosemary nodded, although she looked confused, probably wondering why Mira hadn’t seen her father in so long. “I’m sure it will feel strange at first, but give it time. The most important thing is being open to new experiences.”

She knew Rosemary was right. She just hoped and prayed that reconnecting with her father would go smoothly. They were practically strangers, but he was the only family she had left.

Mira spoke with Rosemary for almost an hour and found her to be a delightful woman. Rosemary planned to visit her daughter, who lived in Ohio and was expecting her third child. Mira asked her about what she remembered of Plainwater, and the older woman spoke about friendly townspeople and well-kept businesses and homes. 

She settled back in her seat when Rosemary’s eyes drifted closed, her head nodding against the window. Their conversation about life in the Colorado territory had been a pleasant distraction, but now Mira’s nerves returned. 

She reached into her carpetbag and carefully extracted an old leather-bound journal. Her mother’s flowing script covered the yellowed pages. Mira ran her fingers over the words, taking comfort in the connection to the mother she barely remembered.

She still could picture the day when her father informed her that he was taking her to Chicago for school. Mira had been distraught and upset that she was being sent away, crying for three days straight, but to no avail. Then, her father had left the ranch for a day to conduct some business, leaving her with a maid. 

Mira had spent the entire morning in her mother’s bedroom, going through her things. A trunk had already been half packed with Mira’s dresses, a cherished doll, and a few books. On that day, Mira had gathered a small bottle of her mother’s favorite perfume, a scarf her mother had worn often in an attempt to keep the Colorado wind off her face, and a gray shawl. She had placed each item in the bottom of her trunk with the hope that no one would find them and remove them. The last items she had hidden in the trunk had been three of her mother’s journals.

Opening to a random page, Mira began reading. Her mother’s lyrical voice transported her back to a small prairie cabin when she had first married Mira’s father in Nebraska, filled with warmth and love. She described the simple joys of baking bread, planting vegetables in the garden, and reading scripture in the evenings by the firelight. The happiness her mother had felt living with Mira’s father was obvious in the yellowed pages. 

Turning the page, Mira came across one of her favorite passages. Her mother wrote of relying on God’s strength to face each new day on the harsh prairie. She clung to her faith through the trials she had faced, trusting in the Lord’s guidance. Her mother had lost two babies before Mira had been born, and the journal pages that described her intense sadness were marked with tear stains. 

The second journal detailed their move to Plainwater, the excitement her mother had felt, and then the disappointment as she spoke of loneliness as Mira’s father began to spend more and more time away from the ranch. 

The final entry in the third journal had been written just a week before her mother’s death. The handwriting was shaky and weak due to illness, but it still spoke of hope and gratitude. Mira gently traced the signature at the bottom of the page, Hannah Herman. 

Closing the journal, Mira held it to her chest and said a silent prayer. She asked God to give her wisdom in building a relationship with her distant father. 

Slipping the journal back into her bag, Mira took a deep breath. She would focus on the excitement of moving back to Plainwater and new adventures rather than dwell on the anxiety of the unknown. This move was part of God’s plan for her life. She just needed to trust him.

Chapter Two

Charlie strode into the sheriff’s office of Sandcreek, his boots clicking on the wooden floor. Darren looked up from his desk, a grin spreading across his weathered face. 

“Well, if it isn’t Charlie Kitman,” he said, rising to his feet. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Charlie clasped Darren’s outstretched hand firmly. “Good to see you, too, old friend. Thought I’d stop by and catch up while I’m in town.”

Darren gestured to the chair across from his desk as he settled back into his own. “Have a seat then. Care for some coffee?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” 

As Darren poured two mugs of steaming coffee, Charlie made himself comfortable, propping his feet up on the corner of the desk. It was so good to see his friend. When he received a telegram from Darren a few days ago that he had a job for him, he willingly changed his plans to see what it was all about. Darren looked happy with his job as Sheriff of Sandcreek, a small town that was located just outside of Chicago, Illinois. He was glad that Darren had been able to move on from the awful events that had happened to his family so many years ago. 

“So, brought in any new bounties lately?” Darren asked, passing a mug to Charlie.

Charlie blew on the coffee before taking a sip. “Sure did. Brought in Billy Watkins just last week.”

Darren let out a low whistle. “Billy Watkins? He’s been dodging the law for months now. Good work catching that varmint.”

“It wasn’t easy, I’ll give him that,” Charlie said. “Took me clear to Utah before I finally caught up to him.”

“Utah, huh? You’re really covering ground these days.”

“Anywhere the bounty takes me. What about you, Darren? Keeping the peace around here, I hope.” 

Darren nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t complain. Been pretty quiet lately, just the usual drunken brawls and petty thefts. Nothing me and my deputies can’t handle.”

“That’s good to hear,” Charlie responded.

Darren leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m glad that you came by. I have a job that might interest you.”

Charlie folded one leg over the other, making himself more comfortable. “What do you have in mind?”

“I have it on good authority that the Cartwright Gang has moved back into Plainwater, Colorado.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The Cartwright Gang? Back in Plainwater?”

Darren nodded grimly. “I got word from an informant that there’s been some suspicious activity around those parts. Cattle going missing, supplies being stockpiled. They’ve also targeted banks in smaller towns in the area. Rumor is, they might be using a ranch owned by Ethan Herman as a base of operations.” 

“Ethan Herman,” Charlie murmured. The name sounded familiar. He racked his brain trying to place it.

“Mr. Herman’s father was deep in with the Cartwrights back in the day,” Darren continued. “Wouldn’t surprise me if the son followed in his father’s footsteps.”

Charlie’s fist clenched around his coffee mug. The Cartwright Gang. After all these years, they still haunted him like a lingering shadow, and they had also caused many problems for Darren. If they had indeed resurfaced, he aimed to take them down for good this time. 

“I’ll leave for Plainwater first thing tomorrow,” Charlie declared, already running through preparations in his mind. He’d need a fresh horse and to replenish his supplies before…

“Whoa, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Darren said, holding up a hand. “This is all speculation at this point. I just need you to quietly look into it, see what you can find out about this Ethan Herman.”

Charlie frowned, impatience rising within him. “You really think the Cartwrights would be foolish enough to show their faces in Plainwater again after all this time?”

“Could be they think enough years have passed that folks have forgotten,” Darren mused. “Or it could be it’s not actually them at all. Like I said, just rumors and hearsay so far.”

With effort, Charlie reined in his eagerness. Darren was right; he needed to approach this cautiously and gather information first. If the Cartwrights were involved, he didn’t want to spook them into disappearing again. 

“Alright,” Charlie conceded. “I had to retire my horse. I’ll head into Chicago and take the train into Plainwater, and hopefully, I can pick up a new mount. I’ll get there faster if I take the train. Once I’m there, I’ll do my best to blend in. I won’t go stirring up trouble unless I find proof, and I’ll keep you informed of what I find.”

Darren nodded his approval. “Glad I can count on you for some subtlety. Most of my deputies are about as subtle as a bull in a China shop.”

Despite himself, Charlie grinned. “I may be a bit hot-headed at times, but I can manage some discretion when the job calls for it.”

“That you can,” Darren agreed. He leaned forward, his expression turning serious again. “Watch your back out there, though. I don’t want to lose my best bounty hunter if things do turn ugly.” 

“I’ll be careful,” Charlie assured him. He finished off his coffee and stood, adjusting his hat. “I better get some supplies if I’m leaving at first light. I’ll send word if I uncover anything.”

“Good luck,” Darren said, clasping his hand again. “And happy hunting. If it really is the Cartwrights, I want the bastards thrown in jail where they belong.”

Charlie met his steady gaze and gave a sharp nod. “I’ll find them, Darren. You can count on it.”

Even though Darren didn’t expect Charlie to head to Plainwater right away, he purchased the supplies he needed at the local general store and then hired a horse to ride to the Chicago train station.

As he rode to Chicago, his mind raced as he thought about the next steps he needed to take once he was on the train. Though he projected an air of calm to Darren, inside, he was churning with anticipation. This mission was more than just another job to him. If the Cartwright Gang really had resurfaced in Plainwater, it was the chance he’d been waiting years for, to take down the men who had darkened so much of his past. 

As Charlie boarded the train and settled into his seat, memories rose unbidden, transporting him back to those tumultuous years of his youth in Texas. He had been barely fifteen when his father died, leaving him orphaned and destitute. The Cartwright brothers had swooped in with promises of brotherhood and prosperity, showering him with the acceptance and guidance he so desperately craved. For three naïve years, Charlie ran with them, blinded by misplaced loyalty.

It wasn’t until a bloody shootout in Abilene, Texas, that Charlie’s eyes were finally opened to the wanton violence and cruelty of the Cartwright Gang. Repulsed and disillusioned, he cut ties with the brothers and struck out on his own. He wandered for months, doing odd jobs to earn money, until crossing paths with an aging bounty hunter named John McCallum. The old man had seen potential in Charlie and took him under his wing, teaching him the tricks of the trade. 

When John McCallum retired a few years later, Charlie inherited his mentor’s list of contacts and carried on the work alone. Though he excelled at tracking down and apprehending outlaws, it was never just about the money or thrill of the chase for Charlie. Each criminal he brought to justice helped ease the regret that still gnawed at his conscience over his time with the Cartwrights. 

Now in his early twenties, Charlie was determined to finish what he’d started and rid the world of the Cartwright Gang once and for all. It wouldn’t erase his mistakes, but it would help ensure no other lost youths fell prey to their manipulation and violence.

The blare of the train’s whistle jolted Charlie from his recollections. He peered out the window as the locomotive chugged into motion, fields, and homesteads scrolling by in a blur. In three days’ time, he would arrive in Plainwater. Hopefully, he could pick up clues to the Cartwright’s whereabouts easily without anyone recognizing him from his past affiliation. Though almost five years had passed, Charlie feared the stain of his youthful misdeeds would not be so easily washed away.

With effort, Charlie turned his thoughts to reviewing what little he knew of his target, this Ethan Herman, who was rumored to be harboring the gang. According to Darren, his father had been an established member back in the day. It made sense the son would follow the old man into the “family business.” Charlie aimed to find out soon enough if the whispers were true. He would observe the Herman Ranch covertly for a few days and see what shook loose. With any luck, he’d uncover solid evidence of the Cartwrights’ presence to bring back to Darren.

Charlie closed his eyes, letting the sway and clatter of the train car lull him into a light doze. He had a long few days of travel ahead and needed to stay rested and alert, so he might as well get some shut-eye when he could. 

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“Captive Hearts on the Frontier Express” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Mira’s departure from her Chicago boarding school marks the beginning of her journey toward her long-held aspirations. With dreams of forging a meaningful bond with her estranged father and pursuing her desired life, she sets forth with determination. However, her path takes an unexpected turn upon encountering Charlie, a ruggedly handsome bounty hunter harboring shadows of his own past.

Will Charlie’s presence disrupt her intentions or will she remain guided by the unwavering compass of her faith?

For Charlie, the pursuit of justice against the notorious Cartwright Gang consumes his focus. Eager to rid the streets of their menace, he plunges headlong into his mission. However, a chance encounter with Mira unveils a startling connection between her and his elusive target, casting doubt on his resolve. As he grapples with conflicting loyalties and his burgeoning affection for Mira, Charlie finds himself torn between duty and the possibility of love.

Will Charlie uncover the truth before love clouds his judgment?

Mira and Charlie’s love grows amidst the looming threat of the Cartwright Gang. With each revelation, Mira’s perceptions of her father and her own beliefs are tested, while Charlie confronts his own demons… As they stand on the precipice of an uncertain future, will their love be enough to weather the storms that lie ahead?

“Captive Hearts on the Frontier Express” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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