The Unexpected Wife

“Looks like you and the young ones fared pretty well,” said Holden.

Behind him stood the man she’d overheard the boys call Grandpa. “They look right at home in your arms.”

Quinn and Tommy both grinned when they saw their grandfather, but neither seemed in a hurry to move away from Abby.

A silent communication passed between Frank and Holden. Both grinned at her as if they were Cheshire cats.

“We did just fine,” Abby said sitting a little straighter. She righted her hat, which had slipped too low over her forehead. “I need to find Mrs. Hilda Clements. She is to board me until my fiancé arrives.”

Holden unhooked a small block of wood from the side of the carriage and placed it below the door. “Just step right on down, Miss Abigail, and stretch your legs. I know you got to be stiffer than wood after that ride.”

Frank leaned in and took the tired boys, while Abby unlocked her joints and rose in the coach, which was only tall enough for her to stand hunched over. Her knees groaned as she moved the few steps to the door. Holden took her hand as she gathered up her skirt and climbed down.

She longed to stretch her arms over her head and work the kinks from her body but realized that would have to wait until she reached Mrs. Clements’s house.

Mr. Stokes placed his bowler on his balding head. “Where can I find a place to get a drink?”

Holden nodded toward a small dugout. “That’s the saloon. Danny’s got good whiskey.”

“Excellent.” Scratching his chin, he moved slowly toward the saloon.

Abby looked out at the collection of buildings. Just over a half-dozen in all, they sat low to the ground, had pitched roofs and small doorways. Only the one had a window.

The first bubble of alarm rose before reason took over. She glanced from side to side, half expecting to see the rest of the town, where the real buildings were. But to her west there was nothing but the single dusty road that snaked toward the mountains. “This is Crickhollow?”

“Sure is,” Holden said, his pride clear. “I know with you coming from the city it may seem a bit small but we’re growing by leaps and bounds.”

Mr. Barrington’s letters had described a thriving town. A growing mercantile, a bustling stagecoach line and populated community. “Growing, did you say?”

“Population fifty-six if you count the homesteaders.” He laughed. “Fifty-seven now that you’re here.”

Despite the cool June air she could feel a trickle of sweat run down her back. She’d walked away from San Francisco right off the end of the earth.

Abby lifted her chin. She even managed a smile. “When will Mr. Barrington arrive?” she said. Her voice sounded surprisingly steady.

Again Holden and Frank exchanged glances.

Frank leaned down and whispered something to the boys, who took off running toward the one building with windows—the mercantile. “He’ll be here before the day’s out.”

“You know my fiancé?” she said.

Frank shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Everybody knows everybody in the valley.”

Just then a portly woman hurried out of the mercantile. She wore black and her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her white apron flapped in the breeze and she hurried across the dusty street toward them. “I was beginning to worry about you, Holden. You’re four hours late.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You name it and it went wrong today.”

“The boys okay?” Frank said.

The woman smiled. “I gave them each a piece of candy. They’re quite content.” The woman looked past him and the boys to Abigail. “Miss Smyth?”

“Yes,” Abby said hopefully.

“Welcome! We have been waiting for you.” She hurried forward and took Abby by the arm. “You must be exhausted. I’ve got cookies and tea for you and the boys. Holden, Frank, you want to join us?”

Holden raised up his hand. “I’ll pass for the moment. I’ve got to get the horses changed and get the stage unpacked and repacked. If I’m lucky, I can leave at first light.”

Frank’s eyes brightened. “Make sure you load my luggage.”

Surprised, Abby shifted her gaze to the old man. “You’re leaving town?”

“Time I got back east. I only came out here to care for the boys when my daughter became ill. Now that’s she’s passed there’s no need for me to stay.”

The boy’s didn’t have a mother. And their father didn’t have a wife. Of course his marital status was none of her business but that didn’t stop the ripple of emotion that tingled through her body.

With an effort she forced her mind back to what really mattered. “Who’s going to take care of the boys?” It was none of her business, of course, but Abby wanted to know they’d be cared for.

Mrs. Clements glared at Holden and Frank. “You didn’t tell her?”

Holden shoved his hands into his pockets. “I figured it was best the news came from another woman.”

“Is something wrong?” Abby said.

Mrs. Clements was the first to recover. “I just thought that these men would have seen to the introductions while you were out on the road.”

“There were no introductions,” Abby said.

“On the road, the man you met?” Mrs. Clements asked.

“Yes.”

Mrs. Clements glanced at the other men, her jaw jutting forward. Men. Without fanfare or nonsense, she said, “He is Matthias Barrington. He is your fiancé.”

Abby’s mind reeled. “He is my fiancé? He didn’t say a word to me, and I’m quite sure that I mentioned I was here to meet my intended.”

Mrs. Clements’s smile was quick and too bright. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, dear. He just had a lot on his mind. Everything will be fine as soon as he gets to town.”

It was just past nine the next morning when Matthias pulled his wagon to a stop in front of the Clements’s Mercantile. The night chill still clung to the air, and Matthias’s back and arms were stiff from sleeping on the ground.

He’d hoped to make town by last night, but the repairs, like most everything else lately, had taken much longer than he’d imagined. By the time he’d finished, the sun was setting on a moonless night. And unless he wanted to risk another broken wheel, his only choice was to bunk down. He knew Mrs. Clements and Frank would look after the boys, so there were no worries there.

Now, as he set the hand brake he realized just how weary he was. He would have traded his soul for a hot bath and eight solid hours of sleep but he had to talk with Frank. Somehow he had to find a way to get his father-in-law to stay another few months.

As he hopped down, he was struck that things weren’t as they should be. The wind blew as it always did, but Mr. Clements and Danny weren’t sitting out front of the saloon, as they were most mornings. And there was no sign of Holden’s coach.

Matthias’s gut clenched. Something was wrong. The boys.

He strode straight to Mrs. Clements’s store. A blast of warm air and the smell of bacon and biscuits greeted him as he stepped into the store. Children’s laughter drifted out from behind the army blanket that separated the shop from Mrs. Clements’s living space. The tightness around his heart eased. The boys were fine and for the first time in a good while, they sounded happy.