Chapter One
Alders Pond, Upstate New York – Early Fall, 1880
“Oh Papa, I don’t want to leave!”
Twenty-two-year-old Harper Brown clung to her father, blinking back warm tears. Would she ever see him again? Oh, how she would miss the Would she ever inhale the faint scent of his cigars on his clothes and the ? Would she ever feel the security of his arms wrapped around her, offering support, comfort, and love.? Her heart pounded hard and her knees felt a little shaky. Would she ever return to her home in the town of Alders Pond?
“You must, daughter, you must,” Elford Brown insisted. His voice broke as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “It’s for the best. You know that and I know that too. It’s your future I’m thinking about now, Harper.”
“I know, I know,” she mumbled. It wasn’t only her home she was leaving, it was everything she knew. She would be leaving her three younger sisters behind, Liza, Mary, and AliceKate. What would they do without her? What would she do without them? She had already bid them goodbye at home, before heading to the stagecoach stop alone with her father.
Her heart thudding, she gazed at the hillsides rising above the valley in which she lived. The autumn colorsseason had just begun to take on their most vibrant colors, so beautiful they took her breath away. The vibrant reds and oranges, the pop of golden yellow, the deeper and earthier russet tones. God, why do I have to leave? This isn’t my fault! Why am I being punished?
She wished now that her father’s influence had never gotten her that job as secretary to the bank manager in town. While it was true that most women still found it scandalous to work outside of the home, when they did. Even when women did work, it was usually as a companion for the well-to-do, as a tutor, or maybe a schoolteacher, but she didn’t have the patience for any of that.
Her job at the bank hadn’t been terribly interesting, rather dull actually, but at least she was earning a little bit of money that went back into the family coffers. Of course, her father would never admit that he needed any help with that, but she knew the truth. Her father’s gristmill, which had served the town and those around them for the past three decades, was faltering, though not through any fault of his own. No, it was the newer, larger, and more powerful gristmill that had been built just outside their valley, not far from Cooperstown. That mill was run by men who undercut prices and, in her opinion, produced a lower quality product that her father had consistently provided his customers over the years.
“You’ll be all right, Harper,” her father murmured. “The truth will come out eventually.”
She heaved a shaky sigh. If only she hadn’t fallen in love with the banker’s son, Frederick Moore. If only she had listened to her father. If only she hadn’t been so excited to be working at an actual business. If only she hadn’t allowed Frederick to slowly urge her away from everything she held so dear, this wouldn’t be happening.
“I don’t want to leave, Papa,” she said. “I know I must, but I don’t want to. I feel like a criminal, running away like this.”
Her father leaned back, his hands on her shoulders and his eyes filled with tears. He gave her a brave smile. “You’re not running away, Harper. Don’t think of it like that. You’re just staying out of the way while the dust settles.”
“This is all my fault.”
“No, it isn’t,” he soothed. “But the truth will come out eventually.”
“But how long will it take?”
She knew it was a question that had no answer. Despite her understanding why her father wanted her to leave, she nevertheless felt reluctant. Wouldn’t leaving give the impression that she was guilty of the crime for which she had been charged? She felt like a coward, bowing to popular opinion, gossip, and betrayal.
“I don’t know, Harper. You must be patient.”
“I want to stay, to prove that I didn’t do what they say I did.” She placed her hands over his. His skin felt dry and thin, and she realized that he wasn’t getting any younger. Her heart ached. “I want to prove my innocence!”
He frowned and gave her a gentle shake. “Now is not the time, Harper.” He sighed and gave her shoulders another squeeze. “You must leave before you’re arrested and put in jail.”
“But Papa—”
His cheeks turned red with emotion as his voice hardened. “I will never see you put in a jail cell, Harper. , and if I have to send you away to keep that vow, I will do what I must. I will keep that vow.” His gaze never left her eyes. “And you must do what you must. And that’s why I’m sending you You go to Colorado toand stay with your cousin Camilla until this unpleasant business is settled.”
Harper felt sick to her stomach. A hard knot formed in her throat. Colorado was nearly two thousand miles away, so far away from everything she knew. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back, not wanting to make this parting more difficult for her father than it already was. She stiffened her back and lifted her chin and gave her father a small smile, hoping that the trembling of her lower lip wouldn’t give her attempt at bravado away.
“All right, Papa, don’t worry,” she sighed. “I will do as you say. But you must write me often and tell me how things are going.” She swallowed thickly at the thought of never seeing her younger sisters again., sixteen-year-old Liza, fourteen-year-old Mary, and ten-year-old MaggieAlice. “You tell Liza not to fall for sweet words murmured in her ear by any young man.”
Her father nodded.
“And you tell Mary that she can be anything and do anything that she wants in life, no matter what people think. If she wants to be a writer and illustrator, tell her to pursue her dreams no matter what.” Her voice started to crack. “And you tell MaggieAlice, our sweet MaggieAlice, that if she wants to be a doctor or a pirate to sail the oceans on her own ship, that she can do anything she sets her mind to.”
She couldn’t bear to see the trembling of her father’s chin, noting that he hadn’t shaved this morning. She lifted a hand and placed it on her father’s cheek, her thumb brushing gently over his whiskers. “And you, Papa, you must be a strong as you expect me to be. Somehow, the truth will come out and I will be vindicated. And then I will come home, I promise.”
He started to say something, but the sound of hooves and the creaking of a stagecoach arriving at the edge of town covered his softly spoken words. She knew what he said. I love you. Before she broke down, she quickly turned away, tightened her grip on the valise she had packed with her meager belongings, and marched with stiffened back to the stop. She didn’t look back, not once. She couldn’t.
Her world had crumbled around her from one day to the next. She didn’t want to see her father turn around and walk back to the ancient buggy he had parked in the woods just to the east of town. Dawn had barely broken, which had made it a perfect time for her to leave without multiple sets of eyes watching, accusing, and wagging their heads, gossiping behind their hands about her, her father, and her family.
As she handed her ticket to the stagecoach driver, she vowed that she would see not only herself, but her family vindicated of the charges against her. No matter how long it took what she had to go through to ensure such an end, she would do it, with God’s help and support. She had been falsely accused. She was afraid, but as always, turned her mind to the book of Psalms for solace. For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, and like a watch in the night, you carry them away like a flood…
“God, please protect me, Lord, be with me through my troubles,” she murmured to herself. “Help me to be strong in my faith to endure these troubles that weigh heavily upon my shoulders. In your name, I pray. Amen.”
She was the only one getting on the stage at this stop. She handed her valise to the stagecoach driver, who tossed it upward onto this the top of the stagecoach and then gave her hand to help her inside. She climbed into the coach. It smelled heavily of fresh varnish that vied with the overwhelming perfume from the elderly woman who sat on the seat opposite her. Without meeting the woman’s eyes, Harper took her place, her heart racing now, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
She refused to look out the window, not wanting to see her father for fear that she would scramble out of the stage and throw herself into his arms and plead for him to allow her to stay, to fight these charges against her. She knew she couldn’t. Not only would it break her father’s heart, but those of her sisters. They had already lost their mother, five years ago. She couldn’t bear to have them watch her be carted off to jail despite her screams of innocence.
No, she would do as her father bade. She would go west to Colorado until the truth was uncovered. She prayed for patience, strength, and courage, for she knew that heading into the frontier, to a life she knew nothing about, she would need every ounce of each.
***
The stagecoach ride took her west through Syracuse and westward to Buffalo. By the second day of travel, her derriere was bruised from the meagerly padded bench seat she sat upon, as was her shoulder from constantly bouncing against the hard wood of the side of the stagecoach wall. Her hair was covered once again with a fine dust that made its way inside from open windows. Even when she dozed she heard the sound of horse’s hooves, the creak of the stage axels, the springs squeaking, the trace chains rattling. She heard the shouts and whistles of the stagecoach driver, the snorts of the horses, and sometimes, even the soft curses uttered by the driver as he urged them onward.
Outside her window, sShe barely noticed her surroundings save the flash of colors that continually passed her window, sometimes far away and on distant hills, sometimes branches and leaves crowding so close to the side of the stagecoach she pulled her face from the window to avoid being slapped by one.
Sleep tugged at her, made her eyes gritty with it, on top of the dust that barraged them during their hours of travel. The further away she traveled from Alders Pond, the more drastically her spirits sank. In a state of half sleep, exhausted, she saw in her mind’s eye how foolish she had been, and how she had come to being accused of bank theft.
She had first noticed him two days after she started working at the bank for Mister Bartholomew Moore, the bank manager. Frederick was the bank manager’s son, working as a clerk at one of the teller windows. On her third day as an employee, she stepped outside the back door during her lunch break, nibbling on an apple.
He was a couple of years older, handsome, with black hair and dark eyes. She had thought him a little bit spoiled following their first conversation, when he grumbled about having to work as a lowly teller when he was the son of the manager.
“Can you believe that my parents threatened to cut me off if I didn’t start showing some sense of responsibility? That I had to learn every position in this bank before my father would make me assistant bank manager and then, someday take over the business?”
She had looked up at him with a soft smile. “Well, at least you know what your future holds for you if you just stay the course.”
He glanced down at her with a frown that slowly curved into a smile, his dark eyes glinting with delight. “You know, you’re right. I just have to be patient, don’t I?”
She smiled. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Who says?”
“The book of Proverbs.”
He waved a hand in the air and huffed a sigh. “Well, that quality has never been one of mine.” “Oh, that. I don’t know so much about patience, as I’m not a particularly patient man.
She should’ve known better, been more wary, but at the time, the attention the bank manager’s son gave her made her feel nice. At twenty-two years of age, she was as yet without a beau, without any real prospects for her future, and even worse, was heading close to gossip about her being ‘on the shelf’ and too old to garner the attention of a younger man. Which was ridiculous to her. Why, she had years to think about marriage and starting a family! Still, she thought of all the friends that she had known growing up, all of them now married and many of them with two, even three children already. If only—
“Cleveland!” The stagecoach shouted. “Cleveland in one hour!”
The route along the southern shores Lake Erie were fairly flat, forests of trees growing close to the road that would take her westward into Chicago, where she would board a train heading west. She still had to study her tickets, but had been putting it off. It was bad enough that every mile the horses put behind them was another mile further from her home. By train, she would travel westward at an even faster pace, bearing her toward a land she knew nothing about.
If only she hadn’t worked at the bank! If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been charged with stealing five thousand dollars from the bank. Of course she didn’t do it, but no one believed her, as she had been charged with locking up that night. But oh, she knew her troubles had begun a couple of months even before that horrible event. She closed her eyes with a sigh, and though she sought to keep her mind from drifting backward, she couldn’t stop the memories.
She’d been was enthralled with the idea of being the recipient of Frederick’s attention. Even though she was somewhat disconcerted to learn that he was not a religious man and didn’t go to church, she had found him not only attractive, but quite charming, especially when he was away from the bank and from underneath his father’s brooding attention. They He had asked her to dined together with him a couple of times, even and though her father had given her his begrudging permission, she knew he didn’t seem to much care for Bartholomew Moore, and by mere association, his son.
Nevertheless, Frederick he made her laugh. He, he brought her flowers, and he gently insisted that she was certainly old enough to do as she pleased, that she didn’t have to do everything her father said, and that the more time she spent with him, the happier he would be. She had obliged him, at least with the time she spent with him. She spent less time with her friends, and sometimes even grew upset at her father for his less than graceful attitude toward Frederick.
She and her dear Papa had even gotten into a rare argument one night, while he sat in their small front parlor room reading the newspaper and she had come downstairs dressed in her Sunday best, telling him thatand she informed him that she was going to a dance at the civic hall with Frederick. The paper had folded down, his eyes gazing at her, his brow furled with concern.
“You’re spending an awful lot of time with him, aren’t you, Harper? What exactly are his intentions toward you?”
She had tried to stifle her annoyance, thinking that perhaps Frederick was right. “I know you don’t like him, Papa, but I do. I expect you to accept that.” She couldn’t deny being angry with her fatherim because he refused to allow Frederick to visit her at the house after that first time, when he had lost his temper with the family cat and kicked at it.
She too had been alarmed, but Frederick had profusely apologized, explaining that he had had a very hard day at work and that his temper had been frayed by the cat digging her claws into his lower leg. She had forgiven him for that. After all, when you loved someone, didn’t you have to forgive some of their faults?
Even so, she wasn’t blind. Eventually, , and though it pained her immensely, she gradually she realized that Frederick was a spoiled, embittered young man who believed he deserved anything and everything he wanted, and shouldn’t have to prove himself to his father or anyone else. She She had started to cool things off between them, coming up with excuses not to go out with him when he asked. She had been surprised by his anger when she told him that she didn’t want to see him socially anymore.as she came up with excuses not to go out with him, accusing her father of trying to separate them, of trying to keep them from being happy. She had denied it, startled by his increasingly unpleasant demeanor.
She tried to go on at work as if everything was all right, but every time she came into contact with him in the bank, she couldn’t help but notice his glares. She didn’t understand it. Then, one day, as she walked home from the bank, she had been startled to realize that Frederick was following her. She was no house mouse though, and turned to confront him.
“Why are you following me, Frederick?”
A flash of irritation passed over his face before he smiled. “Just making sure you get home all right. I heard that there are criminals in the area.” He glanced around. “You shouldn’t be walking home alone anyway. Let me escort you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary, Frederick. I can take care of myself.” With that, she turned away and began to walk off. She heard his footsteps following her for another few seconds and then they stopped.
“Harper, why don’t you give us another chance?” he’d implored. “I don’t understand why things changed so suddenly.”
Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she kept the truth to herself as she halted and turned toward him. “Frederick, I’ve been spending much too much time away from the family. My father needs me, and so do my sisters. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
His reply startled her. “Your father told you to stay away from me, didn’t he?”
She told the truth. “He did no such thing, Frederick. This is my decision.” With that, she had walked away, realizing that her father was right. Frederick’s erratic emotions left her feeling uneasy, to the point that she considered quitting her job at the bank. Then it had happened.
Less than two weeks later, a large sum of money had gone went missing from the bank. So too did Frederick. The next couple of days had passed in were a blur, first with accusations that she had been seen arguing with him that night before he disappeared. Then there were stories about letters being found in his room, supposedly written by her, that she had changed her mind about their relationship and wanted to get back together again, which certainly wasn’t true. To make things even worse, one of those letters had threatened his safety after he refused to renew that relationship.
Almost overnight, everything had changed. People looked at her with accusation in their eyes. The county sheriff made repeated visits to herself, asking her to tell her side of things over and over again. Some longtime customers of the mill had quit coming.
Now here she was, traveling west into an unknown land, into a dubious future, thousands of miles away from her father and her sisters and the only home she had ever known.
Would she ever be able to go home again? Would she ever be able to prove her innocence?
Chapter Two
Cedar Creek, Colorado, 1880
Taylor stepped out kitchen door at the back of his house, stretching his arms over his head and working the kinks out of his neck. The sun had just come up, bathing the mountains of the Sawatch Range rising above him into rich gold, greens, and purpling shadows along the ridges near canyons that worked their way deeper into the hills. As usual, the air was crisp, and at nearly ten thousand feet of elevation, that first deep inhale of the mountain air always took him by surprise.
Well, at least the day would be nice for the work he had planned. A few miles away, the town of Cedar Creek would be coming to life. Any minute now, he could imagine that hammers would be busy pounding nails into yet another new structure or home. When he and Joe Fletcher had first arrived in the cluster of buildings near the fork of Cedar Creek, he couldn’t count more than twenty people in the town hastily built at the base of the mountain that rose high above, which was just fine with him. Today, by the latest count, there were over five hundred people living in the town itself or in scattered shacks and hastily built homes in the flat areas of the base of the pine studded hills.
He couldn’t really blame anybody for wanting to put down roots here. He, like many, hadn’t originally meant to either, but it was a nice valley, there was talk of plenty of ore in these mountains to make any man rich if he were willing to work hard for it. He and Joe Fletcher had placed their stake on a mine that he hoped would produce enough gold to make them both rich men, and if not exactly rich, then at least able to comfortably provide his children with a good life. To date, there were a little over a hundred mine claims in the area, some people mining for gold, others for silvergold, and some hoping for copper. Rumors were that manufacturers back east needed copper for their machines, but he didn’t know much about that.
Some of the miners in the area simply staked a claim and panned for ore in the streams and creeks that flowed through the mountains, while others actually dug deeper into the hillsides. It wasn’t rare to hear the sound of dynamite throughout the day as the hunt for quick wealth brought more and more people to the mountains of Colorado every day. While the wealth might be quickly gained, it certainly wasn’t easy, and the task often proved deadly. In fact, he—
“Papa!”
Taylor grinned, quickly extending the coffee mug away from his body as three-year-old Katie flung herself against his left leg. He glanced down to find his daughter grinning up at him, her blonde, curly hair in her eyes as she looked up at him. She stood in her nightgown, her bare feet peeking out from beneath it, the white and well-worn cotton cloth pressing against her tiny body with the gentle early morning breeze. She had her mother’s blue eyes, and every time he looked into them, his heart caught for a second. He missed Anna, more every day. He stooped down and gathered her in his left arm and lifted her onto his hip.
“And how are you this fine morningis my little ragamuffin this morning?”
“Good, Papa, but I’m hungry. Is breakfast ready?”
As if to proclaim the truth, a loud gurgle erupted from his daughter’s stomach. He chuckled. He was amazed that the little girl could have such a voracious appetite, but then again, she was growing fast, as was five-year-old his son, Ben. At five years old, his son seem to be growing even faster than his daughter. Where had the time gonedid the time go? It seemed like only yesterday that he had gazed into Anna’s beautiful blue eyes, thinking that life was good, that they had been blessed, and he was the happiest and luckiest man in the world.
“Not yet, honey, but why don’t you and your brother get dressed, make your beds, and wash your faces, and by the time you’re all done with that, it will be.” She squirmed in his arms, and he bent down until her feet touched the ground and then she was off. He turned toward the mountain rising above him again, slowly shaking his head as he took two more sips of coffee and then headed into the house to start breakfast.
He left the door open as he stepped into the small kitchen, setting his half empty coffee mug on the square wooden table in the middle of the room with a sigh. He moved toward the two burner cast iron stove in the corner. Opening the box, he reached into a metal bucket nearby and shoved in a few pieces of kindling over the small pile of wood he’d loaded the night before. He reached for the box of matches on the counter, flicked the tip of one with his nail, and caught a whiff of sulfur from the lit match before he touched the flame to the kindling. He watched long enough to make sure the kindling caught and then shut the oven door and adjusted the ventilation.
He heard the children clomping around in their bedroom down the short hallway from the kitchen, Ben laughing and Katie squealing as her brother teased her. He had long ago resolved to leave them alone unless he actually heard the actual sound of tussling or screaming. Though Katie was two years younger than her brother, she was fearless and didn’t take any guff from himher big brother.
Smiling to himself, he plucked three eggs from the bowl on his counter and cracked them into a smaller porcelain bowl, stirring them briskly with a fork. That done, he reached into the small pantry hidden by a curtain and retrieved the remainder of a slab of bacon. In a matter of minutes, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of frying bacon and scrambled eggs. He reached for a loaf of bread purchased from the local bakery and sliced a piece for each of them before reaching into the small icebox for a quart of milk that he bought every day from his neighbor for five cents. He should just buy his own milk cow, but who had the time to milk it every morning? He was busy enough as it was, trying to—
“Papa!”
The pounding of footsteps racing down the hallway prompted him to glance over his shoulder as Ben charged into the kitchen, Katie on his heels. The boy His son needed a haircut, his brown hair hanging down over his forehead and into his green eyes. Every time he looked at the two of them, he felt amazed. Three-year-old Katherine took after her maternal aunt, while five-year-old Benjamin took after Taylor and his father before him.
Every time he saw them, he couldn’t help thinking of Anna. You’d be amazed at how much they’ve grown, Anna. I wish you could see them... Maybe she could, he didn’t know. He frowned. He’d been angry at God for quite some time now, for taking her from him.— Unfortunately, she hadn’t made it halfway through Dakota Territory before she’d fallen ill and died, leaving him a bereaved widower with two small children to care for. in the small wagon train that had ventured from Sandusky, Ohio, his growing family filled with hopes of making a new life for themselves in Colorado, which had been admitted to the union just a couple of years before they set out.
“Can I pour the milk, Papa, can I?”
Taylor nodded and gestured with his chin to the two glasses sitting on the table next to the jar of milk, already half-empty. “Mind you don’t spill it this time, son.” With one last stir of the eggs and one last fork flip of the bacon, he spoke without turning. “Sit down Katie, and quit wiggling.”
He turned around, his heart aching at the sound of her giggle, wishing once more than anything that Anna stood in this kitchen right this moment, cooking breakfast. Unfortunately, she hadn’t made it halfway through Dakota Territory in the small wagon train that had ventured from Sandusky, Ohio, his growing family filled with hopes of making a new life for themselves in Colorado, which had been admitted to the union just a couple of years before they set out.
He had a lot to do on his three hundred-acre ranch today. He had to mend the barbed wire fence in the south pasture, repair a water trough in the horse corral, and replace half-dozen shingles on the roof of his small barn. There were chickens to feed and the hog pen to finish building, as he hoped to purchase a couple of pigs before the end of fall. If he were lucky, the meat those pigs would supply would last his family a whole year, but he first had to get the smokehouse finished as well.
He frowned, thinking there was just never enough time in the day. In addition to work around the ranch, he also shared partnership in the mine with his best friend, Joe Fletcher, whom he had met on the trail westward. While Joe took on oversight of most of the small operation, there was still paperwork, prices to keep up on, and other issues.
It was Joe who had first told him about the rich sources of silver and gold ore in the Colorado mountains. He and Anna hadn’t ventured west to mine, but to take advantage of the land out here where they can start a small ranch. After all, there was nothing keeping them in Sandusky any longer. Anna’s parents had passed away when she was young and she spent most of her life in an orphanage. Taylor’s parents had passed away the year before they decided to leave Ohio, to find new beginnings and raise their young children away from the crowds and the cacophony of life in the fast-growing city on the southern shores of Lake Erie.
“Papa! The bacon’s burning!”
Taylor glanced down at the bacon, which was far from burning, but was getting quite crispy. He removed the cast-iron skillet from the oven and set it on the wooden table next to it, leaving yet another burn ring on it to join all the others. In moments he dished up breakfast for the children, refilled his own coffee cup and nibbled on a piece of bacon as he watched them eat.
“I want you to be very good for Missus Cormack today, you hear me?” He gazed sternly at his children, who looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Ben frowned. “But she hardly lets us talk louder than a whisper!”
“And she smells funny too,” Katie added.
Taylor held back an impatient sigh. “As soon as school starts, things will be different,” he said for the umpteenth time. “By the time you get home from school, I should be finished with most of my work. But I can’t have you two underfoot or left alone at the house all day while I’m out on the range or at the mine. You know that.”
Ben scowled. “I can take care of myself,” he insisted. “And I can watch after Katie too. I can, Papa, I can!”
“Maybe in another year or two,” Taylor replied. “But for now, this is the way it is and you two need to be nice to Missus Cormack. She’s nice and lets you play in her backyard and feeds you a nice lunch and gives you cookies and milk in the afternoon, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” Katie nodded. “She makes the best oatmeal and raisin good cookies., better than the lady at the bakery.”
“Yes she does, and I don’t want you to forget it, nor your manners.” Silently, he knew that he was lucky to have found Prudence Cormack, a nice widow woman in her mid-fifties who lived at the edge of town in a nice home with a fenced yard. Her husband had built the house out of stone years before Taylor had arrived, and he had made a good living in his gold mine before the cave-in that took his life. She’d sold it then, wanting nothing more to do with it. She’d made enough money off the sale to live comfortably for the remainder of her life.
As soon as the children were finished with breakfast, he scooted them outside while he scraped off plates and set them on the counter, thinking that the dishes could wait until he got home later. Just as he finished the last of the coffee, he heard a horse ride into the yard.
The pounding of feet once again echoed through the house.
“Uncle Joe’s here, Papa!”
His best friend was an unofficial member of the family now. Before Joe could even walk in the back door, the children had rushed out. Moments later, Joe walked in, a child grasping each of his legs and standing on his boots as he entered. He gave Taylor a grin.
“Don’t know what I’m going to do if they get much heavier, Taylor,” he commented. “My feet will be squashed flat like a duck’s.”
Ben chortled with laughter while Katie looked up at him, eyes wide. “But then how will you ride your horse, Uncle Joe?
Taylor shook his head. “Ben, go outside with your sisterhitch up the buggy.”
A mutinous look appeared on Benjamin’s face for second before it disappeared. He nodded and left the kitchen, his little sister in tow. He heard them bickering with each other as they went.
“Got any coffee left?”
Taylor gestured to the coffee pot sitting on the back of the stove. Joe was over often enough to know where the cups were kept on the shelf beneath the worktable. Taylor felt Joe’s eyes on him as he watched the children disappear into the barn.
“You know what you need?”
Taylor glanced at his friend with raised eyebrows. “An extra pair of hands?”
“You need a hand with the household and the yard, someone to do laundry, clean the house, do the cooking, watch over the children while you’re working on the ranch or up at the mine—”
Taylor scowled. “I’m doing just fine taking care of my children by myself.”
Joe took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Are you?” He lifted a hand to stop Taylor’s comment. “And I don’t mean that widow woman who thinks that children should be seen and not heard.”
Taylor frowned. “No one else is stepping up to volunteer, and I wouldn’t expect them to. They’re my children and my responsibility. But Prudence offered, said it would be nice to have more company in that big house of hers. She’s all alone there, you know.” He shrugged. “Besides, she gets her choice of beef cuts from my stock before we take the herd down into Denver.”
“I’m well aware,” Joe said. He glanced out the door as he took another sip of coffee and then spoke his mind. “You know, Camilla told me she’s got a cousin coming into town any day now.”
Taylor knew that Joe was sweet on Camilla Radford, a young, brown-eyed young woman that lived with her family on the east end of town. Her father owned the general store. He didn’t comment.
“Apparently, she’s coming from upper New York,” Joe continued. “. She’s never even met Camilla but her father sent her out this way—”
“Why?”
“Don’t know, but Camilla already told me that she’s going to need a place to stay. Her father doesn’t want anyone else living at his house. Too small, you know. From what Camilla told me, her name’s Harper. An odd name, don’t you think?” hHe glanced around. “She might not have enough money to stay at the boarding house for long.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Might be handy having an extra pair of hands around here, don’t you think?”
Taylor gave that some thought for about three seconds and then shook his head. “Naw, I don’t need a woman coming in and taking charge over my household.”
Joe shrugged. “She could live in the cabin back there in that grove of cottonwoods by the streampond over yonder.” Joe stabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “It needs a little work, but it’s livable.”
Taylor didn’t say anything.
“Problem is, from what I hear, she doesn’t have much money. You know that that old geezer Barty Bascom raised his prices at the boarding house? Two dollars a week! Can you believe that?”
Taylor knew very well where his friend was headed with this. He and his partner had made earned, and still did, a decent living with the ore that was taken out of the mine they had purchased a couple of years ago. , butBut he also had his ranch that, and it required the majority of his time and effort. He lived frugally and tucked money in the bank in Denver when he went down there, which he had done twice this past year. He’d made one more trip down before winter set in.
He said nothing as he glanced around the kitchen, spied the windows that could use a good washing, and into the small laundry room where a pile of clothes waited to be washed beside the large copper bucket and washboard, then hung on the line, then taken down, folded, and put away. He glanced at the remnants of their breakfast, pretty much always the same, scrambled eggs and bacon, and the well-used pot for soup, beef stew, or dry, always overcooked roasted chicken.
“Think about it, won’t you?” Joe said with a cocked eyebrow. “Just think of the amount of time you could save yourself every day, not to mention the fact that the children could have someone around who has the time to actually play with them once in a while.”
With another scowl, Taylor turned toward the back door. “Enough. Come on, we’ve got work to do.”
“From Ruins to Forever” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
Harper Brown, haunted by false accusations and hurt by a lover’s deceit, flees the suffocating judgment of her hometown in upstate New York. With the weight of unfounded guilt pressing upon her, she turns her gaze westward, seeking refuge amidst the towering peaks of Colorado. But fate’s hand is cruel, for the sanctuary promised by her distant cousin proves elusive, leaving her with the only choice to agree to help a local rancher with his children in exchange for room and board.
Can Harper keep the truth of her past hidden from her new beginnings?
Burdened by grief and the weight of responsibility, Taylor Wilson finds himself drowning in solitude. With two tender souls depending on him and a heart still raw from loss, he begrudgingly extends an offer of shelter to the enigmatic Harper. Little does he know, her arrival will not only bring assistance with his children but also an unexpected warmth to thaw the icy walls he has erected around his wounded heart.
Will Taylor be able to break down the walls of grief and mistrust?
As they struggle to find their way forward and settle into their new circumstances, the shadows of their pasts catch up to them, casting doubt upon their future. Will their bond withstand the trials ahead, or will the weight of their secrets tear them apart, leaving their future uncertain and their hearts broken once again?
“From Ruins to Forever” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
Hello my dears, I hope you were intrigued by the preview of this lovely story and can’t wait for the rest of it! I will be waiting for your thoughts here! Thank you! 🥰