A Baby Reuniting Their Hearts (Preview)

Chapter One

Clear Springs, Colorado, 1855

Clara McGregor hummed while she sat on a stool in the milking shed, holding the cow’s teats and tugging gently as milk splashed into the pail. Her back ached as she leaned forward. The growing lump in her belly kicked whenever she shifted on the stool.

The pain in her chest swelled as her mind drifted to her late husband, William McGregor, who’d passed away six months ago. Often, she asked herself why he had to die. Twenty-nine was too young to die, and he would never know he had become a father. A month after his funeral, Clara found out she was with a child and was plagued with a mix of joy and anguish. If only he’d survived the accident. She knew William would have been overjoyed at the news of their baby.

Who could have known his death would be caused by Max, his beloved stallion chestnut that had been transporting a wagon load of wood to the town mill? Something had scared Max. The horse reared and bucked, thrusting William to the ground. He’d always been careful when securing wood onto the wagon, but the thick rope had snapped, and the wagon toppled over along with the wood, crushing him to death.

Sheriff Harold Darton ruled the incident a tragic accident, but she wasn’t convinced. Despite her doubts about the accident, there was nothing to suggest otherwise, and she couldn’t argue against the verdict. She knew William better than anyone and found it convenient to have received an offer to purchase the land a day after her husband’s accident. It came from a man who she only knew by the name of Victor Langston, who had been extremely interested in their land for quite some time.

The cow groaned, and Clara realized she’d milked every drop and released the teats. She sat upright, massaging her lower back, deciding one pail of milk would be enough for the day. She thought of William’s lifelong friend and ranch hand, Tom Barrett. Maybe he’d be willing to help transport the milk to the underground stone cabin near the creek that passed through their land. She thought to ask his wife, Minnie, if she wouldn’t mind tending to the evening’s milking.

Rising, she grabbed the pail and shuffled toward the house. Soon, one of the workers would take the cow back to the pasture. Although she found the chores easy, it was becoming tiring, especially as the days grew closer to the birth of her baby.

Clara imagined a handsome, hefty boy like his father with hair like sand and eyes like the giant Rocky Mountains or a dewdrop caught in a bright green leaf. Smiling, she knew she’d love a beautiful girl, too. Her mouth quirked upward at the sudden playful lurch within her, and she poked her belly with her forefinger. You’re awake.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” a worried female’s voice said, coming from the direction of the house.

“Hello, Minnie,” Clara said with a beaming smile. Without a word, Minnie reached out her hands and grasped the pail from her.

“Thanks, but I can manage.”

“Yes, I know you can, but you should ask for help,” Minnie chastised and leaned over to one side carrying the milk pail. “What would happen if you tripped and got hurt? Think of the baby. You need to rest a bit. Your face is all red.”

Minnie was in her late thirties, and with youth on her side, she didn’t look a day older than twenty. Her eager blue eyes peered at Clara through knitted brows.

Entertained, Clara gave a small nod. “Yes, maybe you’re right. Some days, I’m tuckered out like I’ve climbed those mountains,” she said with a tired laugh. “But, I need to do all I can to keep the ranch above water.”

“And there you are, thinking you’re alone,” Minnie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to the diner now?” she questioned with a raised brow, huffing as she climbed the steps onto the back porch.

“Yes, the diner will open soon, and Mr. Winston is expecting me,” Clara said, holding the railing as she climbed the steps. Drawing deep breaths, she said, “I’ll leave after I’ve collected the eggs.”

“Hogwash!” Minnie declared, lowering the pail onto the porch with a thud. “If you need to go, then I’ll get the eggs for you,” she said dramatically. “If I didn’t come see you every day, your baby would come early. We can’t have that now, can we?”

A tight pinch squeezed her heart, and Clara looked affectionately at her friend. How did she get so lucky to have friends like Minnie and her husband? They’d never realize how much they helped relieve the pain embedded in her heart. They made her days better.

“Thank you, but there’s no need to—”

“No arguing,” Minnie said, picking up the pail. Using her foot, she nudged open the kitchen door and added, “I’ve made up my mind. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll churn the butter and take over everything for you. When you return, you can sit with your feet up on the table.”

“I can’t let you do that …”

“Shoo, skedaddle onto the diner before he pitches a fit. We both know Mr. Winston doesn’t like waiting even if you are pregnant.”

“All right, but I’m cooking,” Clara insisted with a raised forefinger, and Minnie responded with a pfft.

Clara giggled as she followed Minnie into the kitchen, who placed the pail onto the floor near the brick stove. Clara sat on a chair at the kitchen table welcoming a glass of cool water that Minnie poured for her.

“It’s blazing hot out there,” Minnie said. “You rest a bit before you go.”

Clara’s feet throbbed, and absentmindedly, she rubbed her belly, noticing the kicking had stopped. She smiled. Maybe the baby got tired and was sleeping.

Sipping her glass of water, Clara almost choked when Minnie asked, “Have you heard from Alice? How is she holding up?”

“She is fine,” Clara said, tapping her chest and taking another sip of water. “Well, that was some time ago. I haven’t received a letter from her in months. She said she wanted to come back home and stopped at a few towns to work and save money to continue traveling back here.”

“Poor thing,” Minnie said, rattling the pots and pans hanging from the walls. “She loved your brother, and I can’t imagine how she’s been living as a widow.”

“Yes,” Clara said. Her heart sunk at the mention of Alice, who’d become a good friend when she and her brother, Ian Lawson, moved to Clear Springs to start a new life. Her parents came to her mind, and she missed them.

She last saw her parents when they left by stagecoach for another town. It was a hard time for them. Ian had been nineteen, and she’d just turned fourteen. A week after her parents were supposed to return home, they received news about a horrific stagecoach accident that had left no survivors. Heartbroken, she realized it was the same one that carried their parents.

She remembered the unbearable pain they’d experienced while living at their ranch on the outskirts of a small town without their parents. The townsfolk had been kind, but every time she and Ian ventured into town, they received looks of pity and words of comfort, which she resented.

A few months after their parents’ funeral, Ian decided it would be best for them to sell and make a fresh start. Thinking it was a brilliant idea, she’d shared his excitement in finding land in Clear Springs where he could begin his dream of becoming a rancher. She had been thrilled and eager to start their new lives by relocating to Clear Springs.

She smiled, remembering Ian’s face when he introduced her to Alice. He’d said it was ‘love at first sight’, and five years later, he and Alice were married. Around the same time, she married William, who had been courting her for two years. Aside from being handsome, William’s charm had won her over, and she loved him.

A year later, Ian and Alice didn’t want to stay in Clear Springs anymore and decided they wanted to discover the world and travel. Ian left the ranch to her and William. Although Ian and Alice had written frequently, she missed them and her brother’s quirky jokes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Minnie said, setting a pot of water on the stove. She hurried to Clara and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “How thoughtless of me. I know you and Ian were close.”

“It’s all right,” Clara said with a wan smile. “Ian was impulsive, and Alice warned him not to sail to England. He’d thought it would be a great place to settle down and wanted to secure a home for Alice. Maybe he was right, but Alice said they were happy.”

Two years ago she received a letter from Alice and stared at her scribbly handwriting in horror. Ian had decided to travel by ship, which sunk in the ocean. Clara remembered clutching the letter in horror, tears streaming down her face and onto the paper. She kept all the letters in the drawer of her dressing table.

“Yes, I remember,” Minnie said; her voice dropped and sounded unsteady. “Tom and I saw a bright future for them. They were a match made in heaven.”

Rising, Clara said, “Are you sure you’ll be fine? I can churn the butter when I get back.” She didn’t want to talk about sad moments.

“Come now,” Minnie said, placing her hand over her hip jutting out. “You know me better than that. This is the time you should ask for help.”

Clara knew better than to argue with Minnie, who had three sons and a daughter who managed their farm a few miles away.

“I best get going then,” Clara said with her practiced smile to hide her aching heart and loneliness. “Mr. Winston will be wondering where I am.” Whenever she left for work, William would kiss her goodbye.

Before Minnie could say another word, Clara sauntered out of the kitchen and went to the front of the house where the horse and wagon—packed with a supply of apples at Mrs. Winston’s request—were waiting.

Chapter Two

Resting at the top of a hill, Daniel Reid pulled up his collar at the back, sheltering his neck from the scorching heat. He straddled Dakota, his sorrel Quarter Horse stallion, staring over the town of Clear Springs, surrounded by intertwining rolling hills amid the Rocky Mountains.

Nothing had changed much over the past ten years, but he deliberated over the people. Were they still suspicious of strangers and treated them as outcasts? It had been years since he set foot in this town, and he doubted anyone would recognize him—he was Timothy back then.

“Let’s see, Dakota, there’s only one way to find out,” Daniel said with apprehension swirling inside his stomach. Nudging his foot against the horse’s flank, he muttered, “What will we find between these mountains?”

Dakota trotted forward, following the dusty trail littered by yellow leaves turning brittle brown leading into town. The yellowy-green leaves rustling in the trees were replaced by bright green and spots of color. Mounds of dead leaves gathered at the feet of the trees, covering small patches of grass.

He remembered as a boy watching farm hands sweeping up the dead leaves into piles, only for him and his friends to jump into those piles, sprawling leaves everywhere. Chuckling, they had to run fast to get away or face the farmer’s wrath.

No one paid attention to him as he rode past the Fireball Saloon with raucous laughter booming through the air every time someone opened the door. The buildings were set in rows along the street on either side, separated into blocks and alleyways. People lounged over the railings on the balconies of the second-story inns.

Glancing around town, he was pleased that Johnston Barbershop was still in business. Running his hand over his shaggy beard, he decided to visit Neville Johnston, who took over the family business at twenty years old when his father passed away. He and Daniel never got along because his sweet lass had only eyes for Daniel.

Daniel dismounted Dakota and tied him to a hitching post in front of the shop. Over his shoulder, he noticed the Gem Hotel, where he’d pay for a room while he searched for work. Strolling toward the deck, he lifted his nose and breathed the fresh, soapy smell lingering in the air.

“Howdy,” said Daniel, removing his hat and sauntering inside. He recognized Neville approaching him; his face had creased like a crumpled piece of paper since Daniel last saw him.

“Hey there, stranger,” Neville said, wiping his hands over his dirty white apron. “What can I do you for?”

Racking his hand through his dark hair and rubbing his shaggy beard, he said, “See what you can do with this hair of mine, and it wouldn’t hurt to trim my beard.”

“Sure thing. Take a seat.”

Daniel sat on a wooden recliner with a leather seat and footrest, staring at his reflection from a massive rectangular mirror mounted on the wall. Below the mirror was a wooden counter displaying the barber’s tools.

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you around these parts. You new here?” Neville said, grabbing a comb and running it through Daniel’s knotted hair

“Maybe,” Daniel said. “I’m just passing through, but I may stay a while.”

Neville pulled a lever on the side, and the chair dipped backward. He lifted his forefinger into the air and shook it at the mirror.

“You seem somewhat familiar. Have we met?”

“Nope, don’t think so. First time I’m traveling this way.”

“Hm,” Neville responded. Breathing through his nostrils, and giving a quick nod, he appeared satisfied. “Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“I’m Neville Johnston,” he said. Picking up the scissors and squinting his eyes, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Reid, Daniel Reid.”

“Uh-huh, you don’t say. I knew a Reid once, but that was long ago. Well, good to have you, Daniel Reid. What kind of work do you do?”

“Mostly farming and ranch work.”

“Huh, you come to the right place,” Neville said, chuckling as he clipped Daniel’s hair. “This here’s a good, quiet town. Land’s good, and ranchers always lookin’ for good hiring. I know just about everybody here. Can put in a good word for you if you like?”

“Yeah, thanks, much appreciated.” Daniel suppressed a grin. Nothing’s changed, after all. If anyone wanted to know something, Neville was the know-it-all guy. “Can you tell me much about the town?”

“Well, nothin’ much to say. We’re a peaceful town and don’t like trouble. You don’t seem like the kinda guy who’d stir up trouble now, do you?” Neville cocked a brow, pausing with scissors in hand about to cut Daniel’s hair.

“Sounds like my kind of place, Neville,” Daniel said with a broad grin. “You mentioned the land was good. Are people buying land and settling down here?”

“There’s this rich ’ol guy who buys up property, does them real good, and sells them. Makes a great deal of money. Don’t go sticking your nose about that ’cause most land belongs to him.”

“I see, what’s his name?”

“What you want his name for?”

Daniel shrugged. “If I ever meet him I may like to do business.”

“Like I said.” Neville pulled on the lever, and the chair whipped forward to its upright position. “We a peaceful place and have no time for trouble, but if you wanna buy land, it’s Victor Langston you should find. Doubt he’ll sell, though, he’s a businessman of sorts.”

“Thank you, Neville,” Daniel said, his grip over the arm of the chair tightened at the familiar name. “You’ve been mighty helpful.”

The crinkles on Neville’s face stretched as he removed the cloth over Daniel’s chest. “Anytime,” he said, wiping his hands on his marked apron tied around his stomach. “Be sure to come again, Daniel Reid.”

“I sure will,” Daniel said, dropping money into the man’s hand. “Keep the change. Don’t believe I’ve had a haircut this good in a long while.”

Neville’s chest puffed up as he leaned to one side, hands on his hips. “You ain’t too bad. I think we gonna get along just fine. Where you stayin’? So I know where to find you for someone hiring for work.”

Daniel pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the hotel. “I think it’s called the Gem Hotel.”

“Yeah, good place. Rosa runs a fine establishment.” Neville held out his hand, and Daniel shook it. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Much obliged.” Daniel grinned.

Turning on his heels, he pulled his hat over his head and left, returning to the hitching post. He stared at the line of timber buildings extending down the street, noticing the post office adjacent to the bank. He recalled the bank robbery that almost broke the town ten years ago and was framed on him. He’d just entered the bank when the bandits strolled in with their pistols and began shooting up the place when the tellers refused to give out cash. He could hear the screaming and shouting as if it happened a moment ago.

He’d tried to run, but one of the bandits clouted the back of his head, and he plummeted onto the ground, barely conscious. Everything grew hazy, and he couldn’t move, choking on dust clouds in the air, horses whinnying and kicking the streets. Deafening gunshots whistled past his ears, and metal clanked as empty pistols dropped to the ground. Thick gunpowder poisoned and consumed the air, making it difficult to breathe. It was a day he didn’t want to remember.

Joining Dakota, he dug into one of the saddlebags, pulled out some fruit mixed with grain, and held it up like an offering. The horse accepted the treat with gusto and a grunt.

“One more stop today before I leave you at Baggins Livery,” Daniel whispered.

A few people sauntered about, floating between the clothing stores, carrying bags of supplies from the grocers onto wagons and going about their business. Touching his hair, he was relieved Neville didn’t recognize him, which meant no one else would either, and soon, everyone would know there was a stranger in town.

 

***

 

Daniel dabbed his forehead with his red neckerchief hanging around his neck and glanced at the noon sun peaking in the blue sky as Dakota trotted along the trail toward the Farlow Ranch.

A slight breeze caught the groans of the livestock dotting the open grassy plains; horses whinnying, grunts from the hogs, bleating goats, the clucking chickens, and a prominent earthy smell that he loved.

“Whoa,” Daniel said, tugging the reins, and Dakota came to a stop.

A man walked toward him from the barn, wiping his hands on a cloth. His deep-set eyes were knitted, and curly-red wisps escaped from beneath his hat.

“Howdy, can I help you?” His voice was deeper than Daniel remembered. “Are you lost or something?”

Daniel lifted his head back and roared with laughter. The man’s head tilted, eyes squinting through the sun’s bright glare.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“Should I?” the man answered, turning his head and spitting grass onto the floor.

“I’ve always disliked that habit of yours,” Daniel said with an enormous, crooked grin.

“Timothy!” The man clapped his hands, and his eyes widened. “Knock me over with a feather,” he guffawed, staring at Daniel in amazement, who dismounted his horse. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

“Here I am, Jasper.” Daniel quickened his pace, grabbed his friend’s extended hand, and pulled him into a euphoric hug. “Told you one day I’d be back.”

“I never would’ve recognized you,” Jasper said, tapping Daniel on the shoulder as he released him and adding, “well, it’s great having you back. You staying for good?”

“Yep, that’s the plan,” Daniel responded. “Now, what must I do to get your famous coffee?”

“C’mon inside,” Jasper said. “Moira’s just put on a kettle of coffee.”

“Married now?”

“Nope, would you believe she’s my stepmother,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Pa will be sad to have missed you; he’s gone for the day. Some disagreement again between Hagan and Donelly. They still argue over their territory despite everything fenced in. Pa seems to be the only one in town they listen to.”

“Some things never change,” Daniel said, removing his hat as he followed his friend inside the house.

Jasper Farlow was a year older than him at twenty-nine years old and had kept his striking, youthful looks. Daniel wasn’t surprised Jasper hadn’t settled down. He could never decide on one lady; he always said there were too many pretty women. He preferred to work alongside his father at the ranch, which had been in the family for generations.

“What’s with the beard?” Jasper said, handing Daniel a mug of coffee in the living room. “If it’s for disguise, it’s a good one.”

“Yeah, it works as a disguise. Covers an ugly scar on my right cheek, a reminder of an accident when I started work as a ranch hand.” Daniel lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip. The piping-hot liquid sent a sharp burst of pain to his brain, and he flinched.  He forgot. Jasper would scald his throat rather than drink cold coffee; he’d discard it and make another drink.

“Where’s Moira?”

“I told her you were an old friend. She’s gone to finish up washing. Though I think it’s an excuse, she’s still shy around strangers.” He smacked his lips after taking a sip from the mug. “She don’t know it’s you, though. I didn’t tell her.”

“I’d like to keep it that way for a while,” Daniel said. “Just remember I go by the name Daniel. I’ve seen Neville, and he’s bought it – doesn’t recognize me. He’s just as crazy and loose-tongued as I remember.”

Jasper sighed. “I guess then you want to start rattling some cages?”

“Yes, that I do. It’s time I clear my name. I’m tired of hiding away, and I have support now,” he said, enjoying the cooler, bittersweet taste of the coffee. “Sorry I didn’t keep in touch. It was too dangerous.”

“Yeah, it was. A good few months the ranch was hotter than the town’s saloons.”

“I ended up in Darlington.”

Jasper cocked a brow. “That’s a two-day journey from here.”

“Best place to hide. I worked as a ranch hand for some years and became a friend to the sheriff there, Sheriff Peter Crane. He knows about Victor and wants to help out. He’s the only person who believed me.”

“Assuming you have a plan?”

“Course we do. I noticed some farms have been foreclosed and a new gambling establishment in town. That Victor’s doing?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You remember the Harrisons?”

Daniel nodded.

“They had a whole hundred acres, and somehow Victor bought them out and built on more saloons, a community hall, Belle’s Hotel, and an inn for these miners he keeps bringing into town.”

“Why’d they sell out?”

Jasper shrugged and said, “Dunno. They never said a word to anybody, just high-tailed it and left. A real shame, a waste of land, the Harrison’s had a good thing going.”

Daniel pursed his lips and nodded. He thought about Clara Lawson. Was she still in town? Was she happy? He debated whether to ask, but his heart thumped so hard he thought he’d drop his coffee mug.

“I bet you’re curious about Clara, aren’t you?”

Jasper smiled when Daniel’s head whipped up, and a bout of heat flushed his cheeks.

“Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. How’s she doing? Is she okay?”

“She was heartbroken, you know. I wanted to tell her the truth about it all, but I knew she’d go chasing after you. I kept my promise, been watching over her all these years. She married William McGregor.”

“I see,” Daniel said, his lips twitching upward. “Is she happy? I know William, and he’s an honorable guy, but is she happy?”

“No, I don’t think she’s happy at all,” Jasper said, scratching his forehead with his pinky finger. “See, William passed away about six months ago. A freak accident is what our good sheriff says. It was brutal. The poor man was crushed by a wagon loaded with logs. I believe Victor had been harassing him to sell the ranch. William refused and it seems Victor got impatient. Clara’s kept it going, though. Tom and Minnie Barrett have been helping her out.”

Relief swept over Daniel. It was a tragedy for William, a poor guy, but Daniel was happy no harm had come to Clara.

“You think it’s murder?” Daniel’s mouth tugged to his left in contempt. If Sheriff Dalton ruled it as an accident, there was no doubt in his mind there was foul play. He and Victor were as thick as thieves.

“There’s no proof, and I suspect Clara knows it was no accident. She ain’t dumb. William’s worked with the sawmill for years. His father was an experienced logger. Can’t convince me he made a mistake securing those ropes.”

Daniel barely suppressed the rage that began to swell from the pit of his stomach. “I need your help, Jasper.”

“Anything.”

“I can’t talk to Clara, not yet. But if Victor wants her land, she’s gonna need protecting. I’m happy the Barretts are keeping an eye on her. I’m going to find work on a ranch and stop Victor.”

“Oh, one other thing you should know.” Jasper sucked on his lower lip and said, “She wears a bustle on the wrong side.”

“Huh?” Daniel frowned.

“She’s carrying William’s child. She only found out after he died.”

Daniel felt like a shot of thunder struck him. The reality of the situation was harder than he imagined. He’d hoped she was living the happy life she deserved and never dreamed such tragedy would come to her.

“Thanks for telling me. Even more reason to protect her.” He got to his feet. “I need to take Dakota here to the livery and settle at the Gem Hotel for a bit. I can’t visit you again, but perhaps we can meet somewhere. I’ll send you a message.”

“Whatever you need, you know I’m here for you. People are scared to say anything, but when they find out you’re back …”

“Not yet, Jasper. I’ll tell you when the time is right.”

Daniel bid Jasper goodbye, and after mounting Dakota, he raced back to town. Although he was elated to spend that short time with his friend catching up on the developments, his heart was set on Clara. She deserved to know the truth but seeing her now would be a mistake. It would put her and her child in danger.

Now that he knew her situation, was it presumptuous for him to think he could still have a future with Clara?

Shaking his head, he knew it wasn’t possible. There’s no way she’d accept him back. Besides, he couldn’t lose focus. He would stick to the plan Sheriff Crane came up with and expose Victor Langston’s and Sheriff Dalton’s unscrupulous criminal activities.

Chapter Three

Clara exhaled a deep breath, climbing onto the wagon. She enjoyed cooking and cleaning at the Springs Eatery but was exhausted by the end of the day. Her favorite part of working at the eatery was meeting new faces. She loved interacting with newcomers, and most visitors stopped off in town only to head toward the mining colonies. When some travelers discovered the entertainment in town, they stayed for a few extra days.

Tugging at the reins, she imagined resting her aching feet on the living room table as Minnie had suggested. She decided a stool would be a better choice. Her bay mare, Midnight Rose, pitched frontward, ambling into a slow trot.

Approaching the end of the street, she frowned, staring at a crowd gathered out front of Fireball Saloon. Some were frantically running around, and others stretched their necks as if something exciting was about to happen. Curiosity won her over, and she brought Midnight Rose to a halt. There was a faint baby’s cry.

“… baby on the doorstep …”

“But why …?”

“… outside a saloon?”

The voices were muffled until someone screamed out her name. One of the soiled doves stared at her. Clara remembered her as Daisy, a young girl she’d known as a kid running around the schoolhouse.

Clara blushed at the sight of Daisy’s lack of modesty, wearing a dark blue sequined dress with black lace trimming, a low neckline, and high boots that touched the hemline.

“Clara?” Daisy bellowed, waving a piece of paper in the air. People turned to stare at her. “Lawson, you’re Clara Lawson,” her bright cherry lips kept moving.

“I used to be Lawson, now McGregor,” said Clara, tightening her hold on the reins. Have people forgotten William already?

“There’s a note for ya,” Daisy’s voice continued to boom, holding the piece of paper to her bosom. She shuffled through the crowd and handed it to Clara.

Daisy eyed her belly and grinned. “Seems ya got more on yer plate than ya can chew.”

A burly man with plump, rosy cheeks came forward, holding a wailing baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Clara guessed he was Franky McMurty, the saloon’s owner, whose reputation had fallen into disrepute.

“This belongs to you?” he said with a rough tone and raised a brow at the note. “Go on, read it.”