RNWMP: Bride for Calvin (Mail Order Mounties Book 16)
Author: Adams, Amelia C.; Mounties, Mail Order
Date: 2018-01-11

RNWMP: Bride for Calvin

Mail Order Mounties Book Sixteen
by Amelia C. Adams

With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Bobbie Sue, Cissie, Erin, Jennifer, Laurie, Meisje, and Shelby.

Copyright©2018 by Amelia C. Adams

Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

Table of Contents:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter One

Faith Jensen clenched her hands into fists at her sides, then forced herself to relax. Being nervous wasn’t going to help anything, and it certainly wouldn’t make this go any faster.

When she’d first agreed to meet with Miss Hazel Hughes about becoming a mail-order bride to a Mountie, she’d known there would be some housekeeping lessons involved, and that at the end, they would meet their prospective husbands. It had sounded so romantic—seeing each other across the room, knowing they were meant to be together, taking each other’s hands and going for a walk in the moonlit garden. Not that there had been much of a moon the last few nights, and Miss Hazel’s garden wasn’t what Faith had imagined, but those weren’t important details. The important thing was falling in love, which she thought would be wonderful and thrilling—not terrifying.

Miss Hazel, matchmaker to the Mounties, had arranged for some young officers to come to her home to meet the ladies she’d been training. The hope was that they would each find someone they could be compatible with and maybe even learn to love. Faith could tell by the echoes of voices from the other rooms that conversations were being held, but she couldn’t tell what was being said, and she was still quite alone.

Finally, the door to the small parlor where she waited opened, and a young man dressed in a red serge uniform stepped through.

“Hello,” he said, pulling off his hat. “I’m Calvin Montrose.”

“And I’m Faith Jensen,” she replied, stepping forward to take the hand he offered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He gave her a nod and a shy smile. “So, I suppose I should tell you a little about myself. I’ve just graduated from the academy—Reindeer Rock is my first assignment. I’m told that I’m being sent out with the best, though—Commander Wilson is sort of famous for taking inexperienced men and turning them into proper Mounties, and I’m looking forward to learning all I can from him.”

“I haven’t met any of the other Mounties yet,” Faith replied. “Are they visiting with the other girls?”

“Yes, and with Miss Hazel, trying to understand how all this works. I have to say, Miss Jensen, that it’s awfully nice of you to consider marrying one of us. We’re heading off into strange lands, and who knows if it will be hard to adjust. You’re showing a lot of bravery.”

Faith ducked her head. “I don’t know about bravery. Some might call it foolishness.”

“That’s what they’ve said to me about becoming a Mountie, too. I suppose we have a lot in common.” He pulled in a deep breath. “You’ll probably want to meet the others before making up your mind, but I’ll put forth my qualifications so you’ll have something to think about. I’ve never touched whiskey in my life and have no intention of doing so—you won’t need to worry about me coming home drunk. I’m loyal to a fault—once I’m pledged, I never break that pledge, and you’ll never need to worry that I’ve taken a mistress. I will never strike you, I’ll do my best never to lose my temper, and I will always treat you with the kindness and respect you deserve. Along those lines, I happen to think you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen in my life, if that makes any difference.”

Faith’s cheeks felt warm. “Thank you. As for myself, I’m not particularly expert at anything, but I’m passable in several things—cooking, mending, cleaning, and things like that. I have no special skills like singing or dancing, but I’m very well read.” She laughed. “Gracious, it sounds like we’re applying for jobs or something. I promise, I’m not usually so nervous. This is just . . . new and frightening.”

“I agree.” He chuckled as well, and she could see his shoulders relax. “I wonder if we’d be this formal with each other if we’d met at a party or something.”

“And didn’t have the threat of immediate marriage looming over our heads? Very possibly.” She looked him over. He was young, probably just a year or two older than herself at nineteen, and handsome, although not as handsome as some she’d seen. He had a serious look in his eyes that spoke of his character. She liked that. Too many of the young men she knew were still intent on having fun and hadn’t given any real thought to what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. She wanted to have fun too, but she knew it couldn’t last forever. Fun didn’t pay the bills.

“Well, what if we were at a party?” He took a step forward and bowed, his hand extended. “Miss Jensen, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

“What?” She looked around, completely astonished. “A dance? Here? In the parlor?”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no music, and no one else here, and . . .” She didn’t know what else to say. If he didn’t understand why this was awkward, he probably wouldn’t understand an explanation anyway.

“I say that if we always wait for music before we dance, we’re cheating ourselves.” He held out his arms, and she hesitantly stepped into them. Had she been wrong, thinking about how serious and dedicated he seemed?

He guided her through a waltz. She fell into the rhythm quickly, even though there was no orchestra to follow, and they managed to make it around the room without bumping into any end tables or upsetting Miss Hazel’s lamps. When they came back around to where they started, he let her go and gave another bow. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Jensen.”

“You’re welcome, I think,” she replied.

He laughed. “Not sure, are you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well, I believe we’re supposed to meet with the others, so that might give you some time to think about it.” He stepped out of the room, and she sank into a nearby chair.

That had been completely unexpected.

But not completely unwelcome.

The next hour went by in a blur. She was introduced to two other Mounties, but only two—apparently, Robert Barret had chosen Minnie right off the bat and they’d gone to get married. She was so glad to hear it—Minnie’s situation was a difficult one, and all the girls had been worried that she might not find a husband. They hadn’t said that to her, of course, and it was such a relief to know that their fears had been for nothing.

She was standing in the kitchen, getting a drink of water, when Calvin Montrose entered and walked up to her. “Miss Jensen, I believe we’ve now met everyone there is to meet, and I have to say, I believe you’re the young lady I would be happiest with. Have you had a chance to think about things like dancing in parlors?”

“I have, and I must say, I could get used to the idea.”

“Wonderful!” He looked like he was about to say something else, but she held up a hand.

“However, I’m extremely against proposals in kitchens.”

“Oh.” He held out his arm. “Well, that’s something we can change.”

He guided her out of the house through the kitchen door and out to the gardens. “I’m sorry there’s no moonlight overhead, but considering that it’s daytime, that would be a rather tricky feat,” he said. “I hope sunlight will do.”

She looked at him, completely astonished. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if sunlight would do.” He paused. “What’s the matter, Miss Jensen? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s just . . . how did you know about moonlight and gardens? When it comes to proposals, I mean.”

“I have two sisters,” he said with a smile. “And I was told that under no circumstances was I to propose anywhere but in a moonlit garden.”

“You must not be a very obedient brother, then. You just tried to propose in a kitchen.”

“I confess, I’m guilty. But you were there to set me to rights.” He reached out and took her hand. “Miss Jensen, I know this is unconventional at best, but I feel in my heart that you and I would make a good match of it. I can’t promise you wealth or social standing or nights at the opera, but I can offer you a heart that is true. Will you accept it?”

She looked up into his brown eyes and saw the seriousness return to them. She had to admit, there was something about a man who could dance around a parlor and yet still feel his sense of duty that was impressive to her. “Yes, I will,” she said, knowing that he was her choice too.

“Then let’s find the reverend,” he said, holding out his arm. She took it, but paused.

“I’d like to grab my cloak first.” Calvin might not have noticed it because he wore a heavy uniform jacket, but the air was very chilly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course.”

So, after a quick detour back into the house to grab her cloak, they were on their way to see the reverend. He married them quickly and efficiently, not wasting time with flowery words, and then they were man and wife.

“I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t have a lavish ceremony,” Calvin said as they walked back to Miss Hazel’s. “I would have liked to spend more time making all the arrangements and seeing to it that you had the wedding of your dreams, but we have to be on the train tomorrow.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’ve never seen myself having a large wedding—all that expense and for what? To show off to your friends how lucky you are? No, I’d rather have a solid, stable husband and forget all the frippery.”

He smiled down at her. “I believe we’ll get along very well.” They took another few steps, and then he cleared his throat. “We checked into a hotel when we arrived last night, and we still have our rooms there. I feel . . . I feel that it would be most appropriate if you were to stay at Miss Hazel’s for one last night and gather your things, and I’ll see you tomorrow at the train station.” He hurried to add, “I believe most of my friends have suggested the same thing to their brides as well.”

Faith looked up at him and blinked. “That’s certainly not what I was expecting you to say.”

“I don’t mean to offend you in any way, Miss Jensen . . . er, Montrose . . . Faith. I just . . . I know that a physical relationship is much different from a dance in a parlor, and I want us both to be ready for it. Getting to know each other and whatnot.” His cheeks were now nearly as red as his jacket.

She looked down at the ground and smiled. “That would suit me as well,” she said at last, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Thank you for being so considerate.”

“I hope I can always be considerate to you, Faith,” he replied, and they returned to Miss Hazel’s so Faith could spend the evening packing and dreaming and wondering what on earth she’d just agreed to do.

Chapter Two

Calvin looked over at his pretty little bride as she slept, her head resting on her hand, as the train sped through the snowy white wonderland toward their new home. He’d had a difficult time pushing his nerves away that morning. Not only was he going to his first assignment, but he was taking a wife with him—so many things were changing at once, and it was difficult to keep up with all of it.

When the suggestion was made that they take wives with them to their assignment in Reindeer Rock, it seemed an impossible task. Calvin had never been sweet on a girl, let alone found one he liked well enough to marry. He’d been focused on his schoolwork and then his Mountie training, and at most, he’d only taken time to go snowshoeing with friends. Parties were things to be endured and then left as soon as possible. He’d agreed to meet with Miss Hazel because he trusted Malcolm Wilson not only to bring him up to be a good Mountie, but to teach him the best way to live his life.

And after meeting Faith, he knew he’d made the right choice.

She’d seemed quiet that morning on the train platform, and he couldn’t say that he blamed her. The reality of what they were doing was daunting—neither of them had ever been to a place like Reindeer Rock before, out in the middle of nowhere, largely peopled with those of the Ojibway tribe. He didn’t even know how to say that word—how would he learn their tongue and make friends with them when he was so inexperienced?

He glanced over at his friends. Colton was just as new as he was—they’d graduated together. Robert had been in the RNWMP for a while and was used to being transferred around, and of course Malcolm, as the commander, had no qualms about anything by now. Calvin chuckled. Robert had married a young woman who came along with a small daughter—perhaps now they’d see some insecurity in the man when being faced with instant fatherhood.

The train whistle blew, and Faith startled awake. “Oh,” she said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off.”

“I think it’s good that you slept,” Calvin told her. “In fact, you should sleep more if you need to. We’ll be taking dogsleds from the train station, and that’s likely to be very tiring.”

“Dogsleds?” She sat upright. “Really? I’ve never ridden in a dogsled.”

“I never have either,” Calvin admitted. “But they look like fun, don’t they?” He hoped that was excitement he saw in her eyes and not fear.

“Absolutely. I’ve read stories about dogsleds and thought I’d like to try it.” She rested a hand on his arm. “You must have read The Call of the Wild. You have, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that one,” he replied. “Is it new?”

“No, not really. It was published about eight years ago, I believe.” She sat back and looked at him. “Please tell me you read.”

“I do read. Quite a lot, in fact. I’ve just read so much for school that anything else is quite unusual for me. There aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“Oh, I can always find time to read a good novel, and Jack London writes thrilling stories. I didn’t bring my books because I didn’t know how much room I’d have, but I’ll see about having my mother send them once we’re settled. If it’s too much of an inconvenience, I won’t worry about it, but it would be so nice to have them.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes, my mother. Why? You seem confused. You do know that every child has a mother, at least to start with,” she said with a chuckle.

“Of course. I was just surprised, that’s all. I thought mail-order brides were generally without a family and had nowhere else to go.”

She looked at him, and her eyes narrowed. “And it never occurred to you that we might actually be making a choice for our own happiness and not out of sheer desperation? Yes, many brides do marry because they are running out of options, but you don’t need to think that you’re saving us from every sort of horrible fate with your grand gesture. Is that what this is about? You wanted to do your bit for humanity by taking women off the street?”

He blinked. “That’s not what I meant, Faith. I wish you wouldn’t jump to conclusions—”

“I’m jumping to conclusions, am I? Well, perhaps you can think about that a little bit while I go sit with my friends.” She stood up and exited their row, joining the other brides a few seats down. They had been sitting with their new husbands for the most part, but it seemed that after time spent living together at Miss Hazel’s, they weren’t quite ready to be separated yet, and now they huddled together like bright little birds.

Calvin shook his head and looked out the window. Everything looked much the same as it had before—still pristine and white, but now he was restless, anxious to get off this infernal train and on with their journey. He didn’t know if he could take much more time locked up in this box with his angry wife, especially when he didn’t know why she was so angry.

“I see that you’ve had your first spat.” Malcolm stood in the aisle, smiling down at him.

“It looks that way, but I have no idea why or what it was about,” Calvin replied.

“If what I hear from my friends is true, we’re in for quite a lot of that.” Malcolm shook his head. “I believe in the institution of marriage, but it would be nicer if men and women were a bit more similar.”

“I doubt that,” Robert said, coming up behind them. “It’s our differences that make us more attractive to each other, don’t you think?”

“I know I wouldn’t want to be married to someone just like me,” Colton added, joining in the conversation. “I wouldn’t want to stare myself in the face every morning.”

All four of them laughed. “No, gentlemen, I believe we are exactly how we’re supposed to be,” Robert continued. “And it’s going to be a lot of fun figuring them out.”

They all looked down the length of the train at their wives. Calvin sensed that things would work out, but first, he’d have to figure out what went wrong and how to keep it from happening again. Otherwise, he knew he’d continue to blunder—that was just his way.

***

Faith knew she’d been unreasonable, but she didn’t know why she’d reacted the way she had. It was probably the strain of going to a new place with a man she hardly knew. It would have been so nice if Miss Hazel could have come along to help them settle in. She knew the woman had gone along with other brides, but that was different—those girls hadn’t met their husbands yet.

She replayed her conversation with Calvin over and over again in her mind, wondering what he’d said that had made her so angry. No matter which way she thought of it, she came back to one very uncomfortable conclusion—she’d acted like a child, and she needed to apologize. She’d do that the very first chance she had when they had a little bit of privacy.

The conductor announced that they weren’t too far from their destination of Cochrane, and she exhaled with relief. Getting off the train would give her a better chance to talk to Calvin—it was impossible to say anything private while they were still in motion because the wheels on the tracks were so very loud, you nearly had to shout to be heard.

“He’s still there,” Gemma said, peering through the window.

A white arctic fox had been racing alongside the train for the last few minutes. Faith had thought for sure that he’d fall behind or get tired and wander off, but no, there he was, loping along as though keeping pace was the easiest thing in the world for him. He was absolutely adorable, with his little black nose and bright eyes. She wanted to scoop him up and squeeze him, but figured that most likely wasn’t a very good idea. Claws and teeth and all that.

The train pulled into the station, and as soon as it came to a final stop, the passengers stood and gathered their belongings. Faith noticed that Calvin picked up her reticule and tucked it under his arm. Good—he was watching out for her even though she didn’t deserve it. That said a lot for him, and sadly, it didn’t say a lot for her. She had to talk to him, and just hoped that he’d be receptive to hearing it. She couldn’t head off into the wilderness with him if he was angry at her. She’d just keep remembering that he’d picked up her bag for her. That was a good sign.

It had to be a good sign.

***

Calvin picked up the bags he knew to be Faith’s and set them on the edge of the platform. His own bag was much smaller—he didn’t require much, and he imagined that Faith had brought along things for the house as well as her own personal belongings. Not only that, but women wore so many skirts—he couldn’t imagine how they traveled at all. It would take a miracle to squish all that fabric into one satchel.

It appeared that the dogsleds were ready for them and they just needed to load up. Where had Faith gone? He turned to look around for her and saw her approaching, a hesitant expression on her face. When she reached him, she rested her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, Calvin,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. I’m just a ball of nervous energy, I think.”

His heart warmed, seeing how upset she was. How could he stay put out with her? He lifted her chin with his finger until her gaze flicked up to his. “We’re both nervous,” he said softly. “And I’m sure I’ll need you to be patient with me many, many times. As long as we do this together, we’ll be all right.”

“You mean, you’ll talk me through my insanity and I’ll talk you through yours?” She smiled. “I can manage that.”

“I think I can too.” He knew they were in a public place, but no one was looking at them, and he’d only given her a brief kiss after their wedding ceremony. Now he leaned down and gave her a real kiss, still brief, but one with meaning. “We’ll be partners in terror together.”

She laughed. “All right. It’s a deal.”

Moments later, they were speaking with the dogsled drivers and figuring out how everything worked. It looked like there was a choice between whether the Mounties would drive or if they would use a hired driver. Calvin glanced around. He had a sort of itch to do the driving himself, but he had no idea how, and he didn’t want to do something foolish. At the same time, he’d been told that they’d be using sleds quite a bit at Reindeer Rock, and it was probably best for him to learn as soon as possible.

His decision made, he asked the driver for some pointers. The man looked at him like he was making the mistake of his life, and maybe he was, but he had to give this thing a try.

When it was time to go, he looked down at Faith, who was bundled up in front of the sled. “Are you ready?”

She looked back at him, merriment on her face. “As ready as I’m likely to get.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

At the signal, the dogs began to run. Calvin hadn’t expected them to be so strong, and he also hadn’t expected to be jolted backwards when they took off. He lost his footing on the runners and tumbled down into the snow, his sled with his wife in it continuing without him.

“Wait!” he called out. “Wait for me!”

As he scrambled to his feet, he saw one of the drivers come running after the sled and bring it to a stop. Calvin brushed the snow from his uniform and shook his head, knowing he must look like an idiot.

“Thank you,” he said to the man as he reached the sled. “I should have been more prepared.”

“That first jolt is always difficult,” the driver replied. “Now that you’ve experienced it once, it should be easy.”

Calvin figured that was his way of saying, “Now that you’ve made that dumb mistake, you won’t make it again.” He shook the man’s hand and stepped onto the runners again, and this time when the sled began to move, he was ready.

He was so glad Faith had been facing the other way and hadn’t seen him go flying off into the snow.

Chapter Three

Riding in a dogsled was everything Faith had imagined it would be. At first, the cold air took her breath away, especially as it rushed into her face. But she pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth and breathed through it, and that helped a lot. Calvin had tucked her up nicely with robes and furs, and he had put on his black Mountie coat and thick gloves. They were both as bundled as could be, and after a time, she was almost too warm.

She loved watching the dogs running out ahead. They seemed eager to sink their paws into the frosty snow, almost as if they lived for nothing else. She’d once thought it was a horrible crime to make dogs run while pulling heavy sleds, and yes, she’d heard of many harsh trainers who had beat or whipped their poor animals. These dogs were entirely different, though—she could sense the joy that radiated off them. She wished she could speak their language and know what they were thinking as they dashed through the trees.

They stopped every so often to stretch and rest, and Faith watched the dogs with curiosity. When it was time to get back to work, they lined up and did what was expected, but during their breaks, they cavorted like puppies. Perhaps that was the quality she’d seen in Calvin—the ability to play when it was time to play, but to work when it was time to work. She sensed they both needed quite a lot more play—she knew she did.

During one of their longer stops, she wandered over to check on Minnie and her sweet two-year-old, Olivia. The child hadn’t complained much at all, even though it was surely colder than she was used to, but it was easy to see the strain on her little face.

“Minnie, would you like me to take Olivia for a little walk while we’re stopped? I’d love to stretch my legs, and I believe she would too.”

Minnie smiled with gratitude. “I’d appreciate that, Faith. She has so much energy, and it’s cruel to make her sit so still for so long.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Faith tucked Olivia’s hand into hers, and they began their little explore. Faith knew Minnie was worn out, and she’d do whatever she could to ease that burden. It couldn’t be easy to walk in that woman’s shoes.

“Look!” Olivia pointed toward the trees a few minutes later, and Faith laughed. There was that silly white fox again. The brides had decided to name him Finnegan, which made their husbands groan. Apparently, naming wild animals simply wasn’t done, but Faith wasn’t altogether sure that the fox was wild. The way he followed them, keeping his distance but always watching out for them, made her wonder if there was something more to him. Maybe he wanted to make friends with them, or to meet the sled dogs. She couldn’t think he was dangerous—he was watchful, careful, not predatory.

“That’s a fox,” Faith told the child. “Finnegan.”

Olivia couldn’t quite manage to say it, but that was all right. It was nearly time for them to be off again anyway.

As they prepared to load back up, Calvin took Faith’s hands in his and rubbed them. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m all right,” she replied. “How are you? Have you quite recovered?”

“Recovered?”

“Yes. From your little spill earlier.”

He looked sheepish. “I’d hoped you hadn’t seen that.”

“I didn’t see it, but I did notice that I was suddenly on my own with a pack of dogs pulling me who knew where.” She gave his hands a squeeze. “You don’t have to be perfect on the first try, you know.”

He smiled. “I know. I just would have liked to be.”

They all loaded back up and headed out on the next leg of their trip, which would be their last for the day. They’d be staying in a cabin that night, which was a great relief to Faith because she’d been afraid that they’d try to sleep out in the snow. The sled drivers seemed used to every sort of climate, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d built an igloo right there on the trail, or chopped down trees and made huts. She’d love to learn all kinds of wilderness survival skills, but not that day—not when she was growing so exhausted, it was hard to sit upright in the sled.

At last, they pulled up in front of the cabin where they would be staying. They didn’t have actual beds, but they took all their robes and furs and laid them out on the floor, and it was almost as nice as having a mattress. Faith knew that she wouldn’t struggle to sleep come bedtime. Before she could sleep, though, she needed a few minutes of quiet, utter stillness without the barking of dogs or the yelling of drivers or the swish of blades on snow.

“Here you are.” Calvin came out of the cabin, a mug in each hand. “I brought you some coffee. It’s cold out here.”

“It is, but it’s wonderfully quiet.” She accepted the mug he offered and wrapped her hands around it.

“Ah. The noises have been getting to you too?” He nodded at her. “I thought I’d lose my mind before the train stopped.”

“I’m glad we share that in common as well.” She took a sip and looked up at the sky. The clouds had backed away and were letting them see the stars overhead, shining down in their sparkling silver glory. Living in the city, she didn’t have many experiences like this.

“I’m sure we’ll find more and more things in common as we go.” He leaned against the house, and for several long moments, they just enjoyed the quiet. The dogs had settled down, curled up with their paws between their noses, and it seemed that Calvin and Faith were the only two still awake.

“We’d better get some sleep,” he said at last. “I think that will be easier now that my brain has calmed down.”

She smiled. “For me too.”

They opened the door of the cabin and found the spots they’d chosen for themselves. Faith pulled her cloak over herself and listened to the quiet breathing of all the others. They were all strangers to her, really—she’d lived with the other brides for a week, but she didn’t know much about them beyond their general personalities. She didn’t even know much about their homes. She wondered if she would have done something this brave five years ago—taking off into the wilderness with a group of people she’d only recently met. Things had changed inside her as she’d gotten older, that was for sure.

***

Calvin had been trained at the academy to wake up early. When he opened his eyes and looked around the small cabin, he wasn’t surprised to see the other men awake as well. Robert was stoking the fire, and Colton was bringing in an armload of wood. Malcolm was on his heels with a bucket of water. Their hard work made Calvin feel like a wastrel.

He jumped up and folded the rugs he’d been lying on. A glance told him that Faith still slept, her eyelashes fanned out prettily on her cheeks. His heart gave a little tug as he looked down at her. Had she really agreed to spend the rest of her life with him? How had he managed to be so lucky—or so blessed?

As if she knew he was watching her, she opened her eyes and glanced up. “Oh,” she said, blinking. “What time is it? Did I oversleep?”

“Mounties wake up early,” Calvin explained. “We aren’t leaving for another hour.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I was holding us up.”

“You’re not the only one still asleep.” He nodded to the rest of the room, where all the brides were curled up in their beds.

Faith chuckled. “Yesterday wore us all out, I imagine.”

A few minutes later, another pot of coffee was ready, and the smell had awakened the other girls. They rubbed their eyes as they gathered up their wraps. None of them had undressed for the night. It would have been impractical—they were much warmer in their traveling clothes, and there was no way to change privately. Now Faith was even more glad they hadn’t done it—being dressed already would get them on their way quickly, and she was anxious to get to Reindeer Rock and see where she’d be living.

Little Olivia seemed a bit reluctant to get bundled back up, and Minnie looked worn out. Faith didn’t imagine that sleeping on the floor had done the young mother any good.

“Olivia, I think Finnegan might be outside waiting for us,” Faith said, stooping down in front of the little girl. “Should we go see?”

Olivia nodded.

“All right, but first we have to put on our coats because it’s sooooo cold outside.” Faith exaggerated a shiver, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, and Olivia laughed. Then she allowed her mother to put her coat and scarf on her.

“I’ll take her outside to look for Finnegan,” Faith told Minnie as she took the young girl by the hand.

“Thank you, Faith. I appreciate your help.” Minnie gave her a smile. “I just hope that when we get to Reindeer Rock, we’re able to settle in quickly and get into a routine. That would help Olivia so much.”

Faith nodded her agreement, then stepped outside with Olivia. Annie was already out there, arranging furs in the bottom of her sled, and Faith was glad to catch her alone for a moment.

“What do you think of Malcolm?” Faith asked, glancing toward the cabin to be sure she wasn’t overheard.

“I think we’ll get along well,” Annie replied, a touch of pink coming to her cheeks. “He’s very kind, and he thinks I’m beautiful.”

“You are beautiful. Isn’t she, Olivia?”

The little girl nodded.

“See? And little children never lie—they’re notorious for telling the truth at the most awkward times.” Faith smiled at her friend, who couldn’t see past her mild imperfections to the lovely young woman underneath.

“What about Calvin? He seems very nice,” Annie asked.

“We had a mild tiff yesterday—and it was all my fault. I took offense to something that was innocently meant, and he actually forgave me for my childishness. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Annie replied. “And it doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome.”

“You noticed that too, did you?” Both girls laughed. “I think that’s part of the Mountie code or something—they only hire handsome young men.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Annie said. “I’ve seen some rather plain ones. But we’ve definitely been fortunate.”

“Look!” Olivia pointed off into the trees, and they all turned to see Finnegan watching them, his bright eyes curious and alert.

“There he is!” Faith was grateful to see the animal, glad she hadn’t lied to Olivia about being able to find him. “Do you think he’s coming all the way to Reindeer Rock with us?”

“I’d love it if he did,” Annie replied. “It’s like he’s taken it upon himself to welcome us to our new home.”

The door to the cabin opened just then, and everyone inside poured out. The yard buzzed with activity as the dogs were harnessed and the people were loaded. Faith handed Olivia back to her mother and watched as Minnie tucked the little girl in securely. Not for the first time, Faith wondered what it would be like to be a mother herself, to have little fingers wrapped around hers and faces that looked up at her so confidingly. It occurred to her that she and Calvin hadn’t discussed children while they were talking about their other qualifications. That might have been a good thing to bring up.

“Are you ready?” Calvin asked as he walked up to her, pulling on his gloves.

“I am. Let’s go home.”

He gave her a grin. “Yes, let’s go home.”

Faith waved at the couple who had let them sleep in their home, then turned and climbed into the sled. Her body immediately protested—as far as it was concerned, it was done riding in sleds forever. But this was the only real way to get there, so she’d push past the stiffness and the soreness and make the most of it.

***

Calvin’s hands were cramped and aching by the time they reached their destination, but he felt a measure of pride—he’d just driven a dogsled all the way from Cochrane. All right, there was that slight incident there at the start when he’d fallen off and gotten a face full of snow, but the rest of the journey had been much smoother, and he was starting to think he was getting the hang of this thing.

The sleds came to a stop, and the men stepped off the runners and helped the ladies up. It was such a relief not to be sliding along on the snow, but to be walking around as usual. The Mounties they were replacing greeted them and began filling them in on the town and everything they would need to know, including the locations of their cabins. Calvin knew they were all eager to see where they would be living, but none so much as their brides.

He carried Faith’s bags into their cabin and grinned to see her spinning around in the center of the floor. “Look, Calvin,” she said. “There’s a fireplace right here in the center of the cabin. That means we’ll get the heat from it no matter where we are. And a stove with an oven, and plenty of windows, and . . .”

He leaned against the doorframe and watched her. Her eyes sparkled as she told him what she wanted to improve and how she’d go about doing it. “We’re going to make it a home, Calvin. A real home, just ours.”

“And I’m guessing we need some food in our real home,” he said. He hoped she could cook—that’s what he’d been promised, but there hadn’t been any chance yet to test it out.

“Yes, we will. Is the mercantile still open?”

“I think so, but just for a few minutes. If we hurry—”

She was already heading for the door, and he grinned again as he followed her. Good—she was the kind of girl who liked to take action. That would suit him well.

When they walked into the mercantile, the owner handed Faith a letter. “This has been waiting for you, miss.”

She took it, a curious look on her face. “A letter? Already? Oh, it’s from my mother. I wrote her from Miss Hazel’s as soon as I knew I was coming to Reindeer Rock. She must have wanted a letter to be here to greet me.” She tucked it into her pocket and smiled at Calvin. “I’ll read it when we get back. We’d better grab those groceries before they close.”

Calvin smiled back. He knew she must be dying to read her letter, but he appreciated that she was putting his stomach first. Of course, he imagined that she was hungry too.

They packed a box full of the basic necessities, and Calvin carried it back across the snow to their cabin. Faith immediately went to work lighting a fire in the stove with the wood that was stacked next to it, and Calvin went out to find water. When he returned, he stood with his hands over the bright new blaze. “I’ll chop more wood here in a bit,” he said. “It’s cold work, that’s for sure.”

“Do you have warmer gloves?” she asked.

“I thought these would be sufficient, but I was wrong.” He nodded at the black gloves he’d tossed on the table when he came in. They looked nice, but they weren’t practical for doing outside jobs, and especially not in this sort of biting wind.

“I’ll knit you some. I saw a good selection of yarn at the store just now—I’ll go back tomorrow.”

Calvin nodded. “I’d appreciate that, Faith.”

Suddenly, things seemed a little awkward, more so than before. Up until now, they’d been caught up with getting ready and making the trip, and now, here they were, husband and wife, in their own cabin, and they had nothing to talk about. They had shared one dance in a parlor and one quick conversation in the moonlight, and that was all they could base their relationship on. Had these been normal circumstances, he would have taken her to parties and concerts over a period of several months, and they would have known quite a lot more about each other. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and they’d be courting after the wedding instead of before.

She had pulled an apron from her bag and tied it around her waist. She looked rather becoming as she mixed up what appeared to be biscuit dough. “The former occupants left the place decently clean,” she said over her shoulder. “I was worried about that on the way here.”

“It would be terrible to have to clean everything the moment we arrived,” Calvin replied. “Would you like me to carry your bags into the bedroom?”

“Yes, please,” she replied.

He placed her things on the bed, then stood there, staring at that piece of furniture. His feelings were so unsettled that he couldn’t imagine asking for any sort of physical intimacy at this point. He couldn’t even say that he felt like a brother toward her—he would know a great deal more about a sister than he did this new wife.

He looked up at a sound and saw her standing in the doorway. “I don’t plan to share the bed with you yet,” he told her. “We’ve just met, and I feel we should know each other for a while first.”

She nodded. “I think that’s wise. The biscuits are in the oven, and I’m warming up some beans. I’m sorry our first meal isn’t going to be very exciting, but I’ll have more time tomorrow to make something nice.”

“I’m not concerned. I’m just glad to have something hot—and to be off the back of that dogsled.”

She smiled. “I think I’ll be using my own two feet to get around for a while myself.”

Chapter Four

Faith had tried to make the beans livelier by stirring in a bit of brown sugar. It helped, but the meal was still very simple, and she planned to do something much better the next day. Things had become so awkward once they arrived back at the cabin after going to the store. Neither of them knew what to say—at least at Miss Hazel’s, they had something to talk about, even if it was just a list of their qualifications for marriage. Here, there was nothing, and they ate in silence.

She washed the dishes quickly, then rearranged the chairs near the fireplace so they could each sit near the dancing flames.

“Thank you for dinner,” Calvin told her. “I’ll go out now and chop more wood—we’ve used up nearly all that was left.”

“Thank you,” she replied, then watched as he bundled up and stepped outside. What a nice, polite evening they were having—two complete strangers living in the same house. She appreciated knowing that she’d have the bed to herself for a time, but she would have liked feeling as though she had an option, as though he wanted to share it, but was giving her space. His demeanor earlier had seemed like he didn’t care at all. While she didn’t expect him to be madly in love with her after two days, it would be nice if he was the smallest bit attracted to her.

A crinkle in her dress reminded her that she had a letter waiting to be read. She smiled as she pulled it out. She’d written her mother the day after she arrived at Miss Hazel’s and told her all about learning to cook and the friendship she was developing with Minnie and Olivia. She’d tried to keep her letter upbeat and positive, not wanting her mother to worry about her.

She unfolded the page and began to read.

Dear Faith,

I’m so glad you’re enjoying your lessons so far. The other girls sound delightful, and as though they’ll be good friends to you. You’ll need that companionship in a new place so far from home while your husband is away at work. My goodness—your husband. It seems so odd to write that. I do hope you’ll tell me all about him when you meet him, and of course about your home and the town where you’ll be living. I would love to come for a visit when you’re settled, if that’s a possibility.

I’m especially glad to hear about the relationship you’re forming with the little girl. You’ve always had such a tender, compassionate heart, and as you can’t have children of your own, I’m glad that you’ve found a child to share that love with.

There was more on the page, but Faith’s eyes had stopped on that line and couldn’t move from it. What on earth did her mother mean, she couldn’t have children of her own? How did she know? How had it happened? What . . . She dropped the letter in her lap and stared into the flames of the fire. Why didn’t she know about this?

She could hear the rhythmic sound of wood being chopped outside. Calvin. He believed she’d be able to give him children. He’d married her based on who he believed she was, and now . . . now she wasn’t that person anymore. Or rather, she never had been that person. It was all a lie.

The door opened, and with it came a sharp gust of wind. Calvin came in with his arms full of wood and kicked the door closed behind him. “This will get us through the night and first part of the morning,” he said. “I’ll chop more before I head over to the Mountie station.”

“Thank you,” she said automatically, glancing at him and then away again.

He piled the wood next to the fireplace, carried some over next to the stove, and then shucked off his coat. “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm?” She looked at the letter, then up at him. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just worn out from the day.”

“I am too. Nothing like miles and miles of travel to wear you out.” He stepped into the bedroom and came right back out with some folded blankets. “We seem to be well equipped with bedding, so I’ll make a pallet out here by the fire. The heat seems to be carrying into the bedroom quite well, so we’ll most likely both be warm.”

She realized he was suggesting going to bed early, and that sounded wonderful. “I’m glad. A nice warm bed sounds perfect right now.” She rose from her chair, then paused. “I hope we’ll find time tomorrow to sit and talk, get to know each other a little.”

“I hope so too. And I set up an account at the mercantile—you’re free to get whatever you need to set the house to rights. I don’t make a great deal of money, but we’ll have enough for our needs, and maybe a bit left over for some fun if we plan it out well.”

“Oh? What sort of fun?”

“Maybe a concert from time to time—I hear the wolves put on a marvelous concerto.”

She smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood in the home. “I’ll look forward to it. And I’ll have a better idea of what we need after breakfast—I’ll take inventory of what was left for us and make a list.”

“That sounds good. Night, Faith.”

“Goodnight, Calvin.”

She stepped into the bedroom and changed into her nightclothes, pulling on an extra pair of stockings against the chill of the floor. The air in the room was warm, though, just like Calvin had said, and that was a blessing. After two days of breathing cold air or trying to breathe through a scarf, she enjoyed the thought of her nose not freezing off her face.

Once in bed and with a candle lit on the table near her elbow, she decided to read the rest of her letter.

You’re not to worry about anything going on here at home. We’ll all be quite well in your absence, although we’ll miss you. The dogs seem a bit lonely especially. They’ve been sitting in the foyer staring at the front door, waiting for you to come home. I hope you’ll have the opportunity to come for a holiday or something—you’ll have to tell us all about the Mountie life and if there are vacations or any sort of thing.

Write again when you can.

Mother

Those dogs always had been a bit of a handful. Faith smiled to realize that she missed them too. Perhaps that’s why she’d felt an affinity for the sled dogs and also for Finnegan. She had enjoyed animals quite a bit growing up.

She blew out the candle and slid down under the covers, so glad that the bedding was fresh. If she’d had to stop everything to clean the cabin the moment they’d arrived, it would have been terrible, just like Calvin had said. Dinner would have been much later, and there was no way to wash and dry bed linens quickly. They’d be sleeping on musty blankets, and that was something she simply couldn’t stand. She likely wouldn’t sleep a wink on them. These, however, smelled fresh, and she found her eyes slipping closed despite the heaviness in her chest.

She would send her mother a telegram the next morning from the mercantile and ask for more information about her condition. Then she would have to tell Calvin. With any luck, he wouldn’t be too angry, and if he wanted to send her home, she’d make it back safely. She didn’t look forward to the idea of another sled dog journey in the freezing cold, but if that’s what was to happen, she’d try to approach it with a good attitude. It was the least she could do.

***

Calvin lay awake long into the night, watching the fire burn down to orange embers. It was still giving off enough heat to be pleasant, and at dawn, he’d stir it to life again. As he watched the vapors rise from the ashes, he thought about everything that had led him to this point. He was too exhausted to sleep, and his brain wouldn’t mellow into that nice dozy place that welcomed dreams.

He’d known from the time he was a little boy that he wanted to be a Mountie, and he’d never given much thought to being a husband. Now he realized that maybe it was something he should have considered. Faith was a very pretty girl and she was kind besides, and he imagined that they’d find ways to get along well together, but he wanted more than that. He wanted friendship. He wanted companionship. He might even want love, if he had any clear idea how to go about that.

Right now, his new bride was sleeping in the next room, and he was lying in front of the fire. That wasn’t how a wedding night should be, but they hadn’t chosen the conventional route by any means. He would love to take a wife in his arms and hold her. One day at a time, one step at a time, and then they would know how they felt about each other.

There was something about the look on her face when he’d come in from chopping wood—something wistful, something disappointing. She’d received some news in that letter, he was sure of it, but she didn’t feel comfortable sharing it. That was hardly a surprise. It would take time to build up the kind of trust it would take for that sort of confidence. His first goal, then, as he tried to figure out how to be a husband, was to build trust. That was a difficult thing to demonstrate, but he would figure out how. Hopefully, in time, she would come to him when she was upset, and that would be a positive step in their relationship.

Not that he wanted her to be upset. That look on her face had pulled his heartstrings. No, if he had his way, she would never be upset again.

***

Faith got up early the next morning and was pleased to see that Calvin had brought in the additional wood and more water. She didn’t know where he was at the moment, though—a glance around the cabin told her he wasn’t home. She dressed and braided her hair, put on her apron, and mixed up some flapjacks. She’d found eggs and bacon at the mercantile the night before, and that would make a nice breakfast. She’d get some soup simmering on the back of the stove while she ran back over to the mercantile, and she’d make bread and maybe a cake, and . . . and she’d do whatever she could to keep her mind off her letter from her mother until she had more answers.

If she proved herself to be a good cook and an able housekeeper, Calvin wouldn’t be too upset, would he? And if he was upset and sent her way, well, it wasn’t meant to be. She’d figure it out. Her reputation would be somewhat smeared, but she could find a job somewhere and say she was widowed. One way or another, she would be all right.

The flapjacks were on the table next to a heaping plate of bacon when Calvin came back inside, stamping the snow off his boots in the doorway. “That smells delicious,” he said as he crossed the room, pausing to kiss her cheek before he hung up his coat. She stood motionless, caught completely off guard. He’d kissed her just as naturally as anything, with no hesitation, and she didn’t know what to think. It was startling, but it was nice . . . It was nice and startling.

“Thank you,” she replied, not knowing what else to say. It then occurred to her that she was saying that a lot, and not much else. “And I appreciate the wood and water, too.”

“My pleasure.” He motioned to the table. “Are you ready for me to sit, or do you need a little more time?”

“The eggs are done now, so please, be seated.” She brought the skillet over to the table and set it down next to the bacon, then slid into her chair. “Do you say grace?”

“Always. I need all the grace I can get.” He chuckled, then bowed his head. His words were simple and sincere, and he thanked the Lord for his wife, which also caught her off guard. What a lovely and unexpected thing for him to say.

After they’d said amen, they served themselves, and Calvin grinned after his first bite. “I don’t know if Miss Hazel taught you this or if you already knew it, but these are the best flapjacks I’ve ever had.”

Faith smiled. “My mother taught me how. I think Miss Hazel feared for my culinary skills—I dropped a skillet in her kitchen and nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“What’s a dropped skillet from time to time?” He forked up a bite of eggs. “Umm. Fantastic.”

“I’ve started the list of supplies we talked about. Is there anything in particular you don’t like?”

“Nothing comes to mind. I’ve never been particularly picky.” He held her gaze for a moment. “Faith, I did quite a lot of thinking last night. We both agreed to this marriage as if it were a business arrangement, and I suppose that in a way, it is. But I’d like us to be friends, real friends, and I hope that you’ll come to feel comfortable around me and that we can share our thoughts and feelings with each other.”

She was surprised at the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I’d like that too. Very much.”

“And someday, when we have children, I want them to know that their parents hold each other in deep regard,” he went on. “You’re a quality woman, Faith, and I’m blessed to have you in my life.”

She dropped her gaze to the table. More tears came, but for an entirely different reason.

He finished his meal, not seeming to notice that she had stopped eating, and pushed back from the table. “I’m off. Feel free to walk around the town, visit with the other brides, meet the people who live here. I’m sure there are a lot of friends to be made.” He put on his coat and hat, then paused at the door. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” she replied, once again tongue-tied. He was going to wonder if she was capable of holding an entire conversation, but she knew that if she tried to say more, her voice would sound thick with tears, and she wasn’t ready yet to explain why her emotions were so tender.

After he pulled the door shut, she washed up the breakfast dishes, then made a few more notes on her list. Raisins would be nice, if they were available. And what about other items? She thought the curtains were in decent shape, but she wouldn’t mind a new tablecloth. She’d think about that later, though, as it wasn’t a necessity. Filling the larder was her first priority.

She placed a large pot on the back of the stove and diced up some of the vegetables she’d picked up the night before. Potatoes, carrots, and celery went in with a bit of onion. A nice, slow simmer was all she needed, and that was just the right amount of heat the stove was now putting out. She’d have around an hour before she needed to tend to it. She checked everything to make sure it was safe, and then she pulled on her cloak and headed out.

“I’d like to send a telegram, please,” she said as soon as she entered the mercantile. It was best to get this out of her way so it wouldn’t press on her mind quite so much—but she knew she was fooling herself. It would press on her no matter what.

“Of course,” the shopkeeper said, passing her a slip of paper.

She wrote her mother’s address at the top, then thought for a moment about what to say. At last, she wrote, “Rec’d letter. Confused—what about children? Please advise.” She hoped that would be sufficient—she didn’t want the shopkeeper to know about her condition before Calvin did. That wouldn’t be fair at all.

She slid the paper back across the counter. “Thank you. I’ll do a bit of shopping while I’m here.”

He nodded, then turned to the corner where the telegraph equipment was kept. She could hear him tapping away as she perused the shelves. She hoped it wouldn’t take long for her mother to respond.

With her basket filled, she approached the counter again and asked that her purchases be put on her account, and then she crossed the snowy ground and entered her cabin once again. She put away the food, checked on the soup, and sat down, utterly bored.

It sounded like time to go visiting.

Chapter Five

When Calvin arrived home that night, it was to find a smiling wife standing next to a stove that held promises of a delicious dinner. He sniffed the air and grinned. “You’ve done it again,” he said. “And these are for you.”

He held out his hand, and she took the bundle of twigs from him. Each branch held green leaves and some red berries. “Now, I don’t know if those are edible, so I wouldn’t chance tasting them, but I thought they were pretty, and they made me think of you.”

She studied them, then turned to grab a cup to put them in. “They’re quite pretty. I’m so glad you brought them.” After placing them in the center of the table, she gave the whole thing a once-over. “As long as none of the berries fall in our food, we should be fine.”

He chuckled and settled in at the table. She seemed happier this evening than she had that morning. “How was your day?”

“Well, I admit that when I got back from the mercantile, I was a bit bored, so I decided it was time to go visiting. There’s a delightful older lady who lives just a few cabins down, and she has the most amazing book collection. She’s said I can borrow whatever I like, so I brought home three novels. Then I checked in with each of my friends—their cabins are similar to ours, but I have to say, I like ours the best.”

“I do too,” Calvin replied. He liked seeing the sparkle return to her eyes. Whatever had brought her down last night had obviously receded.

“They’re each unpacking and making plans for home improvement. I told them about Mrs. Watkins—she’s the lady with the books—and they think they’ll stop by as well. Oh, and I also visited with Mrs. Granger on the other side. She told me this area has had trouble with illegal fur trapping and moonshine.”

“That’s right. The old commander in charge here was telling us about that before he left.”

A worried look passed over Faith’s face. “It sounds dangerous, Calvin. Mrs. Granger said these men are ruthless and will shoot anyone to protect their own interests. Will you be safe?”

“That’s not something I can guarantee,” Calvin replied. He tried to keep his voice mellow, but if he were honest with himself, he’d admit to some nerves of his own. “That’s part of the life of a Mountie. We keep the peace, but sometimes peace needs a little more encouragement.”

She nodded. “I’m not so naïve as to think that you’ll never be in dangerous situations, but I can keep my fingers crossed, can’t I?”

He smiled at her concern. “Of course you can. And this soup is delicious, by the way.”

After dinner, he helped her clear the dishes, and then he wiped the table. He remembered hearing his mother express her appreciation when his father would do things like that, and if he was going to make a study of being a good husband, that seemed like a good place to start.

She sent him a grateful look, and it was nice to do something kind for her. Perhaps that’s what he needed most—to get outside his head and think more about her well-being than his own. Heaven knew that being on his first assignment was causing him to feel anxious, but taking a few moments to consider her feelings helped ease the tension he felt.

“And how was your day?” she asked when they were both settled near the fireplace. She pulled out some black yarn and some knitting needles. He wasn’t good at guessing these things, but it looked like she was starting the gloves she’d promised.

“It was a little more difficult than I expected,” he replied. He’d thought that he would keep things light so as not to worry her, but if he wanted her to trust him with her thoughts and feelings, it would do well for him to exhibit that same sort of trust. “I’m obviously not what the locals expected in their new Mountie. A little too much peach fuzz on the face and not enough beard.”

She smiled. “Their way of saying you’re young?”

“Exactly, and I can’t counteract that because it’s true. The only thing that will cure me of it is time, and that’s not something I can hurry along. They seem to be taking to Robert without issue, but he’s a little older, and he has a stronger jawline.” Calvin reached up and fingered his own. “I wonder if there are exercises I could do that would strengthen mine.”

“Chewing would help, I imagine, and I did make some raisin cookies this afternoon, if that interests you,” she said casually. He saw her glance up to gauge his reaction.

“Chewing would probably be very helpful,” he replied, sounding thoughtful. “And cookies are an excellent thing to chew on.”

She got up and walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with four cookies on a plate. “I mean to send these with you tomorrow, but we should get started on those exercises right away. If your entire career rests on the strength of your jawline, we haven’t a moment to lose.”

“I agree.” He picked one up and took a bite. “Especially when they’re this delicious.”

They kept up a mild banter throughout the rest of the evening, and when it came time for bed, he kissed her cheek again. Unlike before, however, he felt a zing that shot between his shoulder blades, a pleasant tingle that brought a smile to his lips. Hmm. Maybe there was a possibility for a little more than a business relationship here after all.

***

Faith cleaned up the breakfast dishes quickly, accepted the kiss Calvin gave her with much less surprise than the day before and even a bit of appreciation, sent him out the door with the rest of the cookies, then settled down into her chair with one of the novels she’d borrowed. It was a definite concoction of someone’s imagination—a thrilling thing about a duchess and pirates and even some sort of crazed lions in the jungle—but it was distracting, and that’s what she most needed.

Around the time she reached chapter four, a knock sounded on her door, and she rose to answer. The mercantile owner stood on the porch, holding a telegram. “Pardon me for intruding, Mrs. Montrose, but you seemed a bit distraught when you sent your message yesterday, and I thought you might like the reply as soon as it came in.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it from him. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from your business.”

“No, I’ve got someone to mind the place from time to time while I step out.” He touched the brim of his hat and was gone before she’d even thought to offer him something hot to drink.

She closed the door and looked down at the sheet of paper in her hand. It had been folded for privacy, and she unfolded it with trembling fingers.

Letter on its way now.

That’s all it said, but it was enough—her mother would explain what she meant, and then Faith would have a clearer idea of what was going on. Now she just needed to keep herself busy in the meantime.

Thank goodness there were twelve more chapters of pirates to go.

***

Gemma, Minnie, and Annie entered the little cabin and looked around, nodding. Olivia’s eyes were wide as she peered around her mother’s skirts. “Looks like mine,” Minnie said. “But your curtains are in better shape.”

“Was yours left clean?” Annie asked. “Mine was all right, but I have had to dust the corners. It’s as if they got the middle, but not the edges.”

“It was fairly clean,” Faith replied. “I haven’t had any trouble at all settling in.”

She brought the chairs from the table over closer to the fireplace, and they all made themselves comfortable in the warmth, each holding a mug of tea.

“How are you all getting along with your new husbands?” Annie asked. Each of the girls looked down at their mugs as though hiding something, this topic obviously not a common one.

“I feel as though we’re getting to know each other,” Faith said cautiously. “I imagine it will take some time, though.”

The other girls nodded. “After all, it’s only been a few short days,” Gemma added. “We can’t know everything about them all at once.”

“And if we did know everything all at once, we’d find ourselves bored very quickly,” Minnie added. “I’m rather looking forward to discovering things bit by bit.”

Faith nodded. Minnie, having been married before, had more knowledge in this area than any of the rest of them, and if she felt it was best to get to know each other slowly, Faith imagined there was merit to it. She just wished she had some way of peering into the future and knowing if she would ever feel more for Calvin than friendship. That would give her something to anticipate, at least. Then again, perhaps it was good that she hadn’t developed feelings yet. If she was about to be sent away, it would be easier if she hadn’t let her heart get involved.

“Have you noticed that silly little fox still hanging around?” Gemma asked. “I swear, every time I come outside, I see him out of the corner of my eye.”

“I think he wants to learn how to be a sled dog,” Minnie replied. “Can you just see it—a special harness just for him? He has kind of a wistful look about him when he sees the other dogs.”

“Oh, that’s sad. Do you think he’s lonely?” Annie asked.

“I don’t know if animals get lonely the same way people do,” Faith replied. “I wish we knew more about how they communicate with each other. Do they have long conversations, or is it just basic? Do the wife foxes nag the husband foxes to do their chores?”

The brides all laughed, and Faith relaxed into the moment. They’d all come from such different places, but she knew they had enough in common to be good friends. Gemma was perhaps the most withdrawn—she was outwardly friendly, but she seemed to be tucking a part of herself away. Of course, the same could be said for Annie, who didn’t know how beautiful she really was, and for Minnie, who so badly wanted to create a new home for her little family. As for Faith . . . She didn’t want to become too attached in case she’d have to leave again. Saying goodbye would be hard enough, but if she left pieces of herself here, she would be forever living in two different places, and she didn’t think she could bear that.

The brides stayed for another half hour or so, chatting away until the sound of wind outside startled them.

“Sounds like the weather is taking a turn for the worse,” Annie said. “We’d best go—thanks for letting us drop in like this.”

“Now that we’ve gotten our own cabins set to rights, we should plan on visiting each other as often as we can,” Minnie added as she put Olivia’s arms through the sleeves of her coat. “I have a feeling this place will get lonely if we don’t make efforts to reach out.”

“I plan to go see your new friend with the books as soon as I can.” Annie fastened up the rest of her buttons, and they all headed out, calling their goodbyes over their shoulders.

Although the air was frigid, Faith stood in the doorway for a moment and looked up at the sky. Clouds had completely covered every bit of blue, making things look gray and gloomy, and snow was just starting to fall. It was absolutely beautiful, but also colder than anything she’d felt before. She closed the door tight against the chill and threw a little more wood on the fire, then turned her attention to the kitchen. Calvin would need something hot when he came in.

She listened to the wind pick up speed and begin to howl as she made a fresh pot of coffee and put biscuits in the oven. The chicken that had been roasting since just before her visitors came was nice and crispy on the outside, yet juicy on the inside, just how Miss Hazel said it should be, and she was proud of how it had turned out.

Chapter Six

Calvin came in just as she was taking the biscuits out, his hat and shoulders covered in snow. “This is going to be a doozy,” he said, nodding back toward the door. “I’m just stepping in to let you know I’m home—I need to get more wood chopped and brought in before I do anything else.”

Faith nodded. “That makes sense, but at least take this first.” She handed him a cup of coffee, which he downed in a series of gulps.

“One of these days, I’ll chop enough wood at once to lay in a supply,” he said, handing the cup back to her. “See you in a bit.”

The wind nearly drowned out the sound of his ax on the wood—it was certainly getting loud out there. She shivered, more at the thought than from the actual cold, and poured herself some coffee as well. If she got nothing else done over the next few days, she’d be finishing those gloves—it wasn’t right that Calvin had to do such biting, bitter work without them.

When he came in at last, his cheeks and nose were red, but he seemed in good spirits. “Here’s the first load,” he said, setting the logs near the fire. “And I shoved a bit more under the eaves. We need a decent wood box in this place—that’s going on my list of things to do. You know, when we have time.”

She smiled. “I have a feeling that list is going to be quite long.”

“Well, not as bad as it could be. The roof seems solid, and that’s a blessing.” He took off his hat and coat and hung them up, then stepped over into the corner and washed his hands and face. Moments later, he joined her at the table wearing a clean shirt and smelling of pine soap. It was a manly scent, and she liked it. Yes, she liked it quite a bit.

“This looks and smells wonderful,” he said as he lifted a piece of chicken onto his plate.

“Thank you. Miss Hazel taught us how to split the chicken down the middle and cook it flat so it would brown evenly.” Faith thought it was better to talk about cooking than to think about the scent of pine and how nicely it fit the handsome man sitting across the table from her. And maybe how he seemed to be a little more handsome than he had been that morning, although that was silly—a person couldn’t get better looking over the course of one day, could they?

“That’s a neat trick,” Calvin said, lifting up the edges of the chicken with his fork. “Yes, I’d say it’s done quite nicely all the way through. She must have been an excellent teacher.”

“One of the best I’ve ever had.”

Even though their words were simple and even boring, Faith could feel something in the air, something that seemed to build with every glance and every comment. It was physical, even though it wasn’t tangible. It zipped around like a firefly and made Calvin smile and Faith laugh, and as they ate, they bantered and joked, more relaxed with each other than they’d been since they met. What a relief—she hadn’t known how to break through the wall of politeness they’d built up, and she only had her own self to blame for that. Calvin had certainly been trying, and maybe now she could reciprocate.

And maybe she shouldn’t hold herself back until she heard from her mother—maybe she should invest herself fully and wholeheartedly and make the most of whatever minutes there might be for her as Calvin’s wife.

He took his last bite, then reached across the table and picked up her hand. “Thank you,” he said, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “That was delicious.”

“You’ve said that after every meal I’ve made. I might think you were just reciting from memory,” she teased.

“Well, it’s always true.” He gave her hand a little squeeze, sending a ripple of warmth up her arm, and stood up. “I’ll get the water heating for dishes.”

She watched him as he filled the basin. His muscled rippled across his back and she averted her eyes, but then she smiled. They were married. It was all right, wasn’t it, if she thought about things like pine soap and muscles?

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, startling her, and she jumped. She felt a bit guilty, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing.

“Who could possibly be out in this mess?” Calvin asked over his shoulder.

She rose to answer, but he held up his hand. “Let me—we don’t know who it is.”

When he opened the door, a gust of wind came in, along with a massive blast of snow. A man stood on the porch, clutching his coat to his chest.

“Thank God,” he gasped.

Calvin stepped back to let him in. He didn’t seem to have much strength at all and sagged against the table once he’d made it that far into the room. Faith brought a chair behind his knees and he collapsed into it.

“I didn’t think I’d make it,” the man said, shivering clear down to his toes. “The snow . . . it’s blinding.”

“Where do you live, sir?” Calvin asked.

“A cabin on the other side of the woods from here,” the stranger replied. “I was trying to make my way back and got disoriented.”

Faith noticed that his speech was a bit slurred. He was probably suffering from exposure. She poured him a cup of coffee and was generous with the sugar, feeling that it would help him recover faster. As she stepped closer to hand it to him, she noticed a strong aroma coming from him—some sort of strong whiskey.

He accepted the mug and wrapped his fingers around it. “Thank you kindly, ma’am,” he said after he’d swallowed half the liquid. “You’re sent by God, you are.”

After he’d finished the coffee, Calvin helped him out of his wet things and wrapped a blanket around him, placing him in the chair nearest the fire. Then he motioned for Faith to join him in the kitchen.

“That man’s as drunk as a skunk,” he whispered. “And not with the regular stuff, either. He’s either one of the moonshiners we were told about, or he’s one of their customers. In any case, he’s breaking the law.”

Faith’s eyes flicked over to their guests and then back to her husband’s anxious face. “What should we do?”

“I don’t think I can arrest him unless he has some moonshine on his person,” Calvin replied. “I checked him over just now when I helped him change, and there was no bottle or anything tucked away.”

“We can’t send him back out in that storm. That would be signing his fate.”

“I agree. He needs to stay here until it’s safe to leave, but we’ve got to keep an eye on him.”

“What do you think he’ll do?” Faith asked. “We don’t have anything to steal, really—what are we watching him for?”

Calvin reached out and took her hand. “I’m primarily concerned about you. When a man gets drink inside him, he’s not always as . . . gentlemanly . . . as he should be.”

Faith felt her cheeks go a little warm. “He’s been very polite so far, and if he doesn’t have any liquor on him, he can’t become any more drunk than he already is.”

“True. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying. You’re important to me.” He gave her hand a little squeeze.

Such a simple gesture, but her chest began to burn. She looked up into his eyes and saw the sincerity there. They might not know everything there was to know about each other, but he would protect her—not only because of his sworn duty as a Mountie, but because she was his. She could see that on his face as clearly as if he’d said the words aloud, and she took a deep breath, living in the moment of it. She very much wanted to be his, to belong.

“I’ll give him my bed by the fire, if you’ve no objection to my sleeping in the bedroom tonight,” Calvin went on. “I can stretch out on the floor by the dresser.”

“No,” she said, perhaps a bit more loudly than she intended. “No.” She softened her voice again. “It’s all right. There’s room in the bed for both of us, and we’d be warmer that way.” She wasn’t inviting anything romantic to happen—that wouldn’t be fitting with a stranger in the house—and she knew Calvin understood that. He smiled and nodded.

“We’ll make it work. My first priority is your safety.”

He returned to the fireplace and sat near their guest, and Faith turned back to the stove to see what remained of dinner. She piled some chicken, biscuits, and a slice of pie on a plate and carried it over to where the man sat, his hands stretched out to the flames.

“Oh, thank you, ma’am,” he said as he accepted her offering. “I have to tell you, I thought I was a lost soul for sure. I was figuring that I’d veered off too far to one side or the other. But then I felt a nudge against my hand, and the craziest thing—there was a little white fox walking beside me, and it was like he brought me right to your steps.”

“Finnegan?” Faith exclaimed without pausing to realize how odd she’d sound. “Finnegan brought you here?”

“He didn’t give me his name, ma’am,” their visitor said with a chuckle. “He just led me here.”

“Speaking of names, I’m Calvin Montrose, and this is my wife, Faith,” Calvin said.

“And I’m Henry Gallagher. Pardon my rudeness in not saying it sooner.” Henry gave a nod, then took up his fork and began to eat. It must have been awkward, balancing the plate while also holding a blanket around himself, but Faith didn’t know how else to manage it—he needed to stay warm, but the table was too far away from the fire. She decided she’d simply stay in the kitchen so that if his blanket were to slip, they’d all be spared the embarrassment of her seeing him in his long underwear.

She set some salt pork to soaking, then washed up the dishes from dinner. Calvin brought Henry’s plate over after a few minutes, and she got that washed and put away as well. Hopefully Henry’s clothes would soon be dry and he could put them back on—the fire was nice and bright, and should be doing its job well.

As she worked, she couldn’t help but think about little Finnegan out there in the storm, bringing lost travelers to safety. She knew he was a wild animal, but she just wanted to scoop him up and give him a hug for being such a good boy. She didn’t think Calvin would go for that, though, so she should most likely keep those thoughts to herself.

An hour later, Henry was snoring on the floor. His coat was still damp, but his shirt and pants were dry, and he seemed fairly comfortable. Calvin stayed in the main room until Faith had finished changing into her nightgown, then he came in and pulled off his boots.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Faith said once they were both tucked in. Calvin hadn’t changed beyond removing his boots, choosing to sleep clothed. She supposed there were several reasons for that, and she appreciated all of them, most particularly his ability to respond quickly if there was any kind of emergency. “Just what exactly is so bad about moonshine? What makes it worse than the other sorts of whiskey people drink? I’m sorry if that’s a naïve question.”

“No, I think it’s a very good question.” Calvin rolled over to face her, propping his head up on his hand. “All spirits have their problems—when someone drinks, it changes their perceptions, and they can become violent or moody. Moonshine, however, falls into a different category because it’s made without government authorization. There are liquor laws in place to control alcohol content, and moonshine nearly always exceeds those limits. It’s dangerous, much more so than grabbing a glass of whiskey at the saloon. You never know if you’re drinking a safe batch.”

“So, why do people drink it?” Faith asked. She liked the way the faint light from the fireplace in the living room illuminated Calvin’s face. She couldn’t make out every curve or line, but the silhouette was quite nice, even if he did think his jawline needed some work.

“It’s an addiction, just like a dependency on any other sort of drink, but it grabs you faster and holds you longer,” Calvin explained. “All that alcohol coursing through your body at once—it’s a heady experience. I’ve spoken with men who have worked to overcome their taste for it, and they say that giving it up is the hardest thing they’ve ever done. They did it to save their lives—it will rot out your intestines and kill your liver faster than almost anything I’ve ever heard of.”

Faith shuddered. “And people make money off it?”

“Absolutely. You get yourself some corn mash, which is really easy to obtain, and you distill it down, and you can make ten times your money back. Transport it a fair piece away where there’s no access to it, and it’s like owning your own bank. The Mounties in this area have been trying to shut down a local operation for some time with no success. Henry out there obviously knows who runs it or who sells it—he might even be running it himself. We’ve got to see if we can’t get some information out of him while he’s here.”

“But you can’t just arrest him?”

Calvin shook his head. “I know he was drunk when he arrived, and I know he smelled like moonshine. That’s all the evidence I have to go on, and it’s not concrete.”

Faith snuggled farther into the blankets. It was horrible to consider—a substance that could ruin a person’s body and mind both, being sold by evil men who only cared about their pocketbooks. Would they ever be held accountable for the lives they’d ruined? Was there any sort of jail term that would be suitable for the wrack and ruin of a family?

“We’ve been asked to keep an eye on the Indians especially,” Calvin went on. “I’d like to ride out and get to know the nearby tribes once this storm has blown over. There’s a connection between the fur trappers and the moonshiners in the area—well, I should say, it seems that there’s always a connection no matter where you go. Two industries that thrive in the same locations, each with a commodity the other wants. They trade back and forth, not caring about fair deals, just trying to get the upper hand in everything they’re doing. Greed is a nasty thing, Faith. Once it gets into your soul, you can never have enough—you’re never satisfied. Your life becomes about the search for the next thing, and the next, until it consumes you.”

“You sound as though you know something about it,” Faith asked softly.

He nodded. “My uncle was addicted to opium. He was introduced to it while he was abroad on business, and when he came home, all he could think about was making more money to buy more opium. It reached the point that he was importing the stuff to sell as well as taking it for his own use. He’s now in prison, his entire life gone because he allowed himself to fall into that trap.”

“That’s horrible. Did he have a wife?”

“Yes, and four children. My father has taken over their care and sees to their education and lodging. Thank goodness he has enough income to support them—my aunt has no other family.”

“He sounds like a good man, your father.”

“He is, one of the best. I can’t wait for you to meet my parents—and I want to meet yours as well.”

“My father passed away when I was ten. You’d like my mother, though, and she’ll like you. I’m quite sure of it.”

Calvin reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from Faith’s cheek. “I’m sorry to hear about your father. What took him?”

“Pneumonia. It was a severe case, and he didn’t get proper treatment in time. He’d been stubborn, putting off seeing the doctor, and then it was too late.”

Calvin chuckled softly. “I dislike seeing the doctor myself.”

“It’s not my favorite thing to do either, but there are times when it’s necessary, and I often wish he hadn’t been so bullheaded about it. I remember him sitting up at night, coughing as though his chest would implode, insisting that he was all right. It’s as though he refused to admit that he was a human being with a mortal body that needed to be cared for.”

“I think it’s hard for any man to accept his mortality. It’s likely hard for women, too, although I must say, I’ve never thought about things from a woman’s perspective before. You’ll have to enlighten me.”

She could sense his smile in the darkness. “I don’t think anyone likes to admit their weaknesses. We all want to see ourselves as strong and invincible. In my father’s case, he took that invincibility too far, and it cost him dearly. It cost his family dearly as well—we miss him every day.”

Calvin picked up the lock of hair again and twirled it between his fingers. “I would have liked to know you as a little girl. What sort of child were you?”

“Oh, not terribly exciting. I liked to play out of doors and make mud pies or splash in puddles. I read and dressed my dolls. Just the things that ordinary little girls do.”

“Again, not being a girl, I know nothing about that. When we have daughters, I suppose I’ll be educated—probably much more than I want to be.”

His voice held a note of amusement. “I think you’ll be a wonderful father someday, Calvin,” she whispered.

He leaned over, kissed her cheek, and then settled back onto his pillow. Within moments, he was asleep, his breathing rhythmic in the darkness. It was strange to think of him sleeping so close by, and yet, it was the most comforting feeling she’d ever experienced.

She reached out and rested her fingers on his sleeve—just enough so she didn’t have to break contact with him. Then she too was able to fall asleep, pushing away her worries until another day—after all, there wasn’t one thing she could do about them at the moment, so she might as well enjoy these tender moments while they lasted.

***

Henry was gone when Calvin got up the next morning. The blankets were folded and set on the chair, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Calvin was equally relieved and dismayed. He didn’t like housing a man who was potentially dangerous, but he’d wanted the chance to see if he could get any information out of him.

He had just finished lacing up his boots when the door opened and Henry staggered in, his arms full of wood.

“Thought I’d do you a bit of a good turn, Mountie,” he said, setting his load down with a thump. “Can’t be letting you do all the hard work on my behalf.”

“I appreciate it,” Calvin replied. Just as he’d been torn between relief and frustration a moment ago, he was both glad and annoyed to see the man after all. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Can’t see the cabins next door or anywhere,” Henry replied. “Almost couldn’t find your woodpile and had to give it up for a lost cause. I imagine we’re getting a good few feet, if not more.”

“How’s the town equipped to handle things like this?” Calvin asked. “Does it happen often?”

“Oh, I’d say often enough that everyone knows what to do. They’ve all got their candles and whatnot in store, and they know enough to come inside when the wind gets bad or the flurries start.”

“What about the Indians? Are their homes tight?”

Henry scratched his chin, his fingernails making a rasping sound against his whiskers. It made Calvin’s face itch. “I’ve never been inside one, but I imagine so. That tribe’s been around a long time—somewhat around three hundred years, if I heard the tale right.” He chuckled. “I’ll bring in one more load before I call it done, I think.” He turned and headed back outside, having to close the door with a thump to get it to stay shut.

Faith peeked out from the bedroom. “He’s still here?”

“He is. Just went out to get more wood.”

She stepped into the main room, pinning her hair into place. “I wanted to come out and start breakfast, but I didn’t want to catch anyone indisposed.”

“Then this is perfect timing. Can I help in any way?”

She nodded toward the stove. “You could put some wood on for me.”

“With pleasure.” He walked into the kitchen, pausing as he passed her. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Mrs. Montrose, but you sure do look pretty first thing in the morning.”

She looked embarrassed, yet pleased. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well then, I’ll scoot the mirror over next to the bed so you can see for yourself. There was a moment this morning as a pleasant dream or something flitted through your mind and you smiled a bit, and it was one of the loveliest things I’ve ever seen.”

She pretended to be shocked. “You were watching me sleep?”

“Just for a moment. It was a very delightful moment, though.”

She looked up and met his gaze. He was tempted to kiss her—it would be so nice to find out if her lips were really as soft as they looked. Before he could follow through on the thought, however, the door opened again and Henry bustled in.

“I think we’d best call that good for now,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the moment he’d interrupted. “I nearly couldn’t find the cabin again.”

“I have a coil of rope here we can use as an anchor if we need to go out again,” Calvin replied, taking a step back from Faith and trying to act as though nothing at all was going on. He’d rather like to gather the man up by his collar and chuck him back out in the snow so he could return to his wife, but he figured that wouldn’t be the right thing to do, considering the storm and all.

Faith made up a nice breakfast, then picked up her knitting after everything was cleaned up. Calvin occupied himself by cleaning his rifle and pistol, but they were already clean, so the process didn’t take long. Then he was completely out of anything to do.

“You could read to me while I knit,” Faith suggested. “My books aren’t here yet, but I’ve only read one of the three I borrowed the other day. They’re there on the small table.”

Calvin raised an eyebrow. “You’d like me to read you one of these books?” The titles sounded ridiculous. “‘The Duke and the Lost Pirate Princess’?”

“Of course not,” she replied. A wave of relief washed over him until she said, “That’s the one I read. Choose a different one.”

Calvin glanced over at Henry, who was sitting there with a smirk on his face. “You wouldn’t want to hear me read a book, would you, Henry?” he asked. “I’m sure it would be plenty boring.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Henry replied. “I enjoy a good yarn from time to time.”

Faith looked smug. “See? You’d be entertaining both of us. Go ahead, Calvin. Choose a book.”

He grumbled under his breath, but in reality, he had nothing else to do. “I’ll take The Empress and the Merchant King, I suppose,” he said at last.

“Excellent choice,” Faith said, and Henry settled in to listen.

Calvin opened to chapter one and cleared his throat. “‘The garden party had gone on far too long for the empress’s tastes, and she wished everyone would just go away and leave her to her solitude. She grew weary of accepting compliments about her porcelain skin, her lithe figure, and her impeccable skill on the pianoforte.’” He paused and looked up. “Really, Faith? This is what you want me to read you?”

She shrugged. “You chose the book.”

“Only because the other two sounded worse!” He shook his head and went back to it, trying not to cringe as he outlined all the empress’s many fine qualities, and yet her subsequent loneliness because she was so very perfect. But then along came a man, a mysterious man—

“Oh, yes,” Henry interrupted. “Every good story has a mysterious man.”

“Exactly,” Faith replied. “Go on, Calvin.”

The mysterious man had dark, brooding eyes and a robust mustache—which was also approved by the audience—and he lurked in corners and wore a black cape. Calvin was greatly relieved when Faith finally set down her knitting and said she’d make lunch.

“You know,” Henry said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “that’s a right nice wife you have there, and I think it’s a good job you’re doing, keeping her entertained. You’re not a bad storyteller.”

Calvin shook his head and closed the book forcefully. “I agree that she’s something else, but this book isn’t at all my idea of entertainment. I’d much rather be out riding or hunting or doing just about anything else in the world. I’m an outdoorsman by inclination.” And that might be the opening he was looking for. “Tell me about this area, Henry. What kinds of wildlife are out there, and what are the dangers? I imagine there are plenty, both man and beast.”

Henry nodded. “I think the weather’s probably one of your biggest enemies, as you’re seeing now. The wild animals tend to skirt clear of the settled areas unless they’re injured or have some other reason to be out of their minds. As far as men go, well, don’t cheat at cards, and you should get along all right.” He laughed at his own joke and Calvin joined him, not missing the fact that his question hadn’t been answered at all.

Chapter Seven

The storm didn’t blow over until Monday morning. Faith thought she’d lose her mind before then. Thankfully, they’d had enough food for Henry as well as themselves, and they’d managed to stay warm. But being forced to remain inside was difficult, and she could tell it was taking its toll on Henry and Calvin, too, both being used to the outdoors.

“I sure do appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” Henry said as he put on his coat and hat. She’d filled him up with one more hot breakfast before agreeing to send him on his way. He didn’t look like a man who ate home-cooked meals very often.

“It was the least we could do,” she replied. “I have to ask, though, if you’re ever going to go wandering in a snowstorm again. That doesn’t seem like the wisest thing to do.”

“Well now, I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said with a chuckle. “I was out visiting friends down thataway and didn’t realize the storm was coming up so fast.”

“Do you think your friends are all right? Where do they live?” Faith asked

“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine. They’ve got themselves a pretty solid cabin. I appreciate your concern, though,” Henry said. “I’d best be on my way. Thanks again for everything.” With a tip of his head, he was gone, and Faith closed the door behind him.

“Well, Constable Montrose, sounds like you’ve got yourself a clue to follow up on,” Faith said as she joined Calvin at the table.

“Hmm?”

She nodded off toward the east. “Henry has some friends who live out that way in a cabin. He knew there was a storm coming—he didn’t know how fast it was coming, but he still braved it. Whatever his reasons for going there, they were pretty compelling. Enough to warrant some investigation, I’d say.”

Calvin looked at her, a smile growing across his face. “You’ve got some investigative skills of your own, Mrs. Montrose. I’m duly impressed.”

She shrugged. “Just doing my part for the RNWMP.” Secretly, though, she was pleased with herself. Not a bad piece of detective work if she did say so herself.

“And I’d better do the same. We need to make sure that everyone is safe after this onslaught. You’ll be checking in with the other Mountie wives, I’m guessing?”

“The minute I get the dishes done. I can’t wait to be outside again.”

“Why don’t you leave the dishes? There’s no rush—you can always get them later.”

“Really? But that seems so . . . slothful and lazy.”

He chuckled. “And who’s to know? I won’t tell a soul. Go see your friends.”

That sounded wonderful. “I think I will. And I’ll go to the mercantile, too.”

As soon as Calvin finished eating, he put on his coat and hat, pulled on his newly finished gloves, and bent to kiss her cheek. But as his lips left her skin, he paused. “That doesn’t seem like quite enough,” he said, meeting her gaze. Then he drew close again, sliding his gloved hand behind her head and pulling her near.

She didn’t know what she’d expected for their first kiss. Something quick, perhaps, because their relationship was still so new. Something friendly, something light . . . this was nothing like any of that. As soon as he brought her in partway, it was like a magnet brought them the rest of the way, a pull neither one could have resisted. That sense of belonging to him, that sense of rightness, leaped up in her chest and confirmed itself a million different ways. This was what it meant to fall in love.

When he released her, he stepped back and smiled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can—no idea how long it will be.”

“That’s all right. I’ll get new supplies put in and reintroduce myself to the outside world while you’re gone.”

He bent and gave her another kiss, then was out through the door. She pressed her hand to her lips, realizing how very much like a young bride she was acting. How much of a young bride she was. She laughed at herself as she pulled on her cloak and gloves. She was only being herself, and it felt good.

She made her visit to each cabin relatively short, making sure everyone was all right and asking if they needed anything from the mercantile. Each one said they had quite a list and would head over themselves, so she only had her own supplies to worry about. As she walked into the store, the first thing on her mind was the possibility of a mail delivery.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Montrose,” the store owner told her. “With the storm, we’re delayed by a few days.”

“That’s all right. I assumed as much.” She gave him a smile to reassure him, but she couldn’t push back the disappointment she felt in the middle of her gut.

As she turned to examine the shelves for the things she needed, she noticed a little pair of black eyes peering out at her from around a large barrel of crackers. The child was probably three years old and most definitely didn’t want to be seen, but his curiosity was getting the better of him as he stared up at her.

“Hello,” she said softly, bending down to his eye level. “How are you?”

He didn’t reply, but stuck his finger in his mouth. His clothing and his darker coloring gave him away as one of the natives in the area, and she was excited to meet him.

“My name is Faith,” she told him. He reached out and touched the fabric on her arm. “Oh, you like my cloak? Red is my favorite color.”

“He likes it too,” a woman’s voice said from behind, and Faith turned to greet the speaker. She was a young native woman, probably not much older than Faith, but clearly the boy’s mother. “You’re one of the new wives?”

“Yes. I’m Faith Montrose.” How odd that sounded, but it sent a thrill through her.

“I’m Jane, and this is my son, Sammy. We live in the village.”

Faith turned back to the boy. “Hello, Sammy.”

Again, there was no reply, but his eyes followed her every movement.

“We’d better go,” Jane said, seeming a little uncomfortable. “I’m glad you’ve come to Reindeer Rock, Mrs. Montrose.”

“Wait,” Faith said before Jane turned away. “May I come visit you in the village?”

Jane seemed confused. “You want to visit?”

“Yes. I’d like to make friends with you and meet your family. If that would be all right.”

“I . . .  I think so. Yes. Come, Sammy.” She held out her hand and Sammy took it, casting another look at Faith over his shoulder as he walked off.

Once Faith had made her selections, she carried them to the counter. “I’m so pleased that I was able to meet Jane and Sammy just now,” she said conversationally.

“Oh? Why is that?” the storekeeper asked.

“I’m fascinated to know about people whose lives are different from mine. How they celebrate, how they mourn, what they eat, how they live.”

He raised an eyebrow. “There aren’t a lot of people around here who feel that way, Mrs. Montrose. We get along all right living side by side, but we don’t do a whole lot of interacting. Not unless we have to.”

“Why not? I think you could learn a great deal about each other.”

“I don’t want to learn how to be an Indian. I’m sorry if that makes me sound narrow-minded, but that’s just how I feel about it.” He wrote her total in the ledger. “Do you need any help getting this home?”

“No, I think I’ll be all right. Thank you.”

She hefted her box into her arms and began her walk back to the cabin. It was a little difficult to navigate around the snowdrifts at times, but she made it safely. What bothered her more than the snow was the conversation she’d just had. Of course, not everyone had to be interested in the same things she was, but it seemed to her that part of the joy of living was learning, and part of learning was understanding those around her. Shutting yourself off from that purposely . . . well, it seemed like choosing to miss out on a great deal.

As she walked up to the cabin, a movement caught the corner of her eye, and she looked over to see Finnegan standing there, flicking his tail. “Hi there,” she said to him. “You were a busy boy during the storm.”

He blinked.

“Thank you for bringing Henry our way,” she went on. “I’m not sure how that’s going to play out, but you know what, he sort of grew on me. I actually think I like him, moonshiner or not. And I’d hate to think of anyone getting lost out here in a storm like that even if they are breaking the law.”

He tilted his head to the side, blinked again, and trotted off.

As she put the food away, Faith thought about Finnegan, which of course got her thinking about sled dogs, and by the time she had a batch of bread rising on the counter, she had a plan worked out in her head. She wasn’t sure it was the very best idea in the world, but she had to find something to do or she’d go crazy with inactivity, and she didn’t think Minnie wanted her over there every single minute to play with Olivia.

She put on her cape again and picked her way across the snowy ground toward the shed where the sled dogs were housed when they weren’t in use. She remembered it well from when they had arrived, and she also remembered Mr. Larsen, who trained the dogs. It took her several minutes to reach his place because it was on the outskirts of town—not that Reindeer Rock was large by any means, but the snow definitely slowed her progress and doubled the length of her journey.

When she reached the property, she was greeted by the sounds of many yipping dogs, and soon she could see them jumping up and down inside their large enclosure. “Hello there,” she said to them, laughing. “Hello.” They were scrambling all over each other, trying to get to her.

“Hello,” a voice called out, startling her. Of course it wasn’t one of the dogs, but it took her a second to get her bearings and realize it. Mr. Larsen came out of the nearby shed, pulling on his gloves, and she smiled at him.

“I’m sorry to drop by without warning, Mr. Larsen, but I’ve had an idea, and I’m afraid that when I get an idea, I’m rather prone to acting on it immediately.”

He smiled in return. “Just what’s this idea of yours? It’s Mrs. Montrose, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. You’ve got an excellent memory.” She motioned toward the dogs. “Is it difficult to learn how to drive a sled? For a woman, that is?”

He scratched his head. “I don’t think it’s any harder for a woman than a man to learn how. I’d say the difficult thing might be the physical strength involved, not the gender.”

“I’m a bit small, but I’m strong,” Faith told him. “Do you think I could learn?”

“I don’t see why not, if it’s something you’re wanting. I’m curious why, though.”

She had no idea where he stood on the question of the natives, and she wasn’t in the mood to get into a conversation that might ruffle her feathers after she’d spent time smoothing them down from before. “I’d like to be able to get around on my own,” she said, deciding to remain somewhat vague. He didn’t need to know that what she really intended to do was drive out to visit the Ojibwe. She wouldn’t do it without telling Calvin, of course—she’d never want to alarm him—but it would be a nice thing if she was able to do it without relying on someone taking her.

Mr. Larsen nodded. “You’re always welcome to rent a sled and team, and I’m more than happy to teach you. It might also be . . . advantageous . . .  for your husband to have a few lessons as well.”

She chuckled at his attempts to speak circumspectly. “It’s all right, Mr. Larsen. I think we can all three agree that Calvin is more enthusiastic than skilled when it comes to sledding.”

He nodded. “Let’s set up a time for your first lesson—how about one o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’d appreciate that, Mr. Larsen. I’ll see you then.”

She turned to leave, but he spoke again. “Would you like a ride back to your cabin, Mrs. Montrose? I was just getting ready to take these boys out for a run—they’ve been cooped up because of the storm, and they’re eager to get out.”

“I’d love that,” she replied, and watched as he hitched them all up. She’d paid a little attention to the process while they were out on the trail before, but this time, she took careful mental notes, thinking that someday, she’d like to do this part herself too.

The dogs were quivering with excitement when she climbed into the sled and got settled. She could feel their energy radiating around them—she was sure that only their careful training kept them from leaping and running off once they were out of their enclosure.

“Are you ready?” Mr. Larsen asked, and she called back that she was. With only the slightest bit of encouragement, the dogs were off, barking joyfully as the sled skimmed across the top of the snow. Once again, she pulled her scarf up to cover her nose and mouth so she wouldn’t be breathing the bitterly cold air, but she loved the speed and the rhythm of the ride.

When they reached her cabin, she climbed out and thanked Mr. Larsen for his kindness. Then she stood and watched the dogs run off, their tails wagging and their tongues lolling, looking as happy as any dogs she’d ever seen.

She looked across the courtyard and caught a glimpse of Olivia peering out of Robert and Minnie’s front window, no doubt watching the dogs as well. What was it about children and animals that could make a person feel so happy?

***

Malcolm spread a map of the area out on his desk, and the four Mounties gathered around it. “Commander Scott said he and his men had already investigated much of the land out in this area,” he said, pointing to the forests east of Reindeer Rock. “It’s too bad that your visitor didn’t get more specific with his instructions, Calvin.”

“One thing we have to keep in mind is that moonshine stills can be moved from place to place,” Robert pointed out. “That’s what makes them so difficult to locate. They could have waited for Commander Scott to clear one area and then set up camp in that same spot the very next day. We can’t rule anything out.”

Calvin nodded. “The fact that Henry showed up on foot and never said anything about losing a horse tells me that he couldn’t have been traveling too far afield,” he said. “Do we know where his house is?”

Malcolm indicated another spot on the map, this one out to the west of town. “I asked Mr. Pettigrew on our way back in,” he said. “He pointed me here.”

“I wondered why you were lagging behind,” Colton said with a grin. “I thought maybe our fearless leader was getting soft in his old age.”

“Never,” Malcolm replied. “And after my afternoon nap, I’ll challenge you to an arm-wrestling match to prove it.”

Calvin went back to the map. “I think we should ride out and check these places that have already been marked off. If Robert’s right and they’re moving their operation behind our backs, we’d have a better chance of catching them.”

Malcolm nodded. “Agreed. Now that we’ve checked on the community and made sure everyone’s all right after the storm, we can set up some regular patrols, and part of that will be choosing outlying areas to investigate. I’d like to keep those random, without a predictable pattern.”

They spent the remainder of their meeting discussing their goals and objectives and deciding which areas they’d patrol the next day. They would ride out in sets of two, with Colton and Malcolm taking a general route and then Robert and Calvin riding out to the east later in the day. They arranged their shifts to overlap so someone would be at the station on a rotating basis, and when they were done, Malcolm sat back with a satisfied nod.

“It feels good to have our schedule established. Being snowed in wasn’t the best way to start our assignment here, but now we can get on track.”

Calvin was given the rest of the afternoon off, and he whistled as he walked across the snowy ground toward his cabin. He glanced toward the outhouse the four Mountie cabins shared and thought he saw one of the wives stepping behind it with a plate of food and then reappearing without it, but decided he must be mistaken. Why would she want to leave food at the outhouse?

“Hello,” he called out as he stepped inside. “How was your day?”

Faith turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a towel. “It was so good to get outside for a while,” she told him. “And I’ve had a wonderful idea, but I need your . . .  well, I don’t like to say ‘permission’ because that sounds utterly barbaric, but I think I do need it . . . or at least, your approval . . . because you’re law enforcement as well as my husband, and . . .”

He chuckled and held up a hand. “You’re making me a little nervous. What’s going on? You aren’t thinking of going into moonshining yourself, are you?”

“No, although it does sound like a rather exciting career.” She grinned and went on. “I’d like to learn to drive a dogsled. That way, I could drive out and visit the Ojibwe or just get out for some fresh air and exercise whenever I wanted. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Larsen and he’s agreeable to it.”

Calvin was surprised to hear what she’d been concocting, but not in a negative way. “I think that would be a very good idea. In fact, while we were out today, we talked a little bit about how we could help our wives settle in and feel more at home here, and we talked about sleds and horses and things like that. I don’t have any objection.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” She clapped her hands together, but she was still holding her towel, so it made a muffled sound. “And what about going out to see the natives? Is that safe? You see, I met a young Ojibwe woman and her little boy this morning at the mercantile, and I would love to visit them and see how they live.”

“From what I understand and what I’ve seen, the Ojibwe are a kind, peaceful people with a rich spiritual heritage,” Calvin told her as he sat down at the kitchen table. “My only concerns would be with the moonshiners in the area.”

“Are the Indians involved in moonshining?” Faith set two cups on the table, along with a teapot, and poured some for each of them.

“We aren’t exactly sure,” Calvin replied after taking a sip. “Commander Scott said he felt that there has to be some sort of agreement between the Ojibwe and the moonshiners because of how easily they’ve been evading the law—that perhaps one or more of the Ojibwe is helping to hide the still, for instance. We have no concrete evidence of this, though.”

Faith seemed to consider that. “So, what sort of danger would I be in, heading out that way? If I stay on the path, wouldn’t I be safe?”

Calvin nodded. “Yes, I imagine you would be. The stills are always tucked far back into the more densely wooded areas, not visible from roads or paths, and you should be all right.” He set his cup down and studied her eyes. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

She nodded. “Yes, it does. I can’t explain why—I just feel a pull to learn about our neighbors and make the most of my time here.”

Her tone of voice made it sound as though she thought she’d be leaving soon. That was odd, but Calvin chose not to ask about it. “I think that’s admirable. I’d like to ride out there with you the first time you go and introduce you to the Ojibwe I’ve met so far. We can do that on horseback until you feel proficient on the sled.”

“We can? Oh, I’d love that,” she said, her eyes sparkling. He loved seeing her so enthusiastic—it was like she was lit up from the inside. “When can we go? My first lesson is at one tomorrow, but I’m free otherwise. Well, I do need to make food for my hungry husband, but I can work around that, too.”

Calvin grinned. “Your hungry husband will be fine. Let’s ride out at ten, all right? I’m due at the office at two, and that will give us time to visit and come back.”

“Thank you, Calvin. This means a lot to me.”

Chapter Eight

That night, there seemed no point in sending Calvin back out to sleep in front of the fire. It was nice having him snuggled up next to her where she could listen to his gentle breathing—now that she was a little more used to it. He mumbled something in his sleep at one point, startling her awake, but she just smiled and drifted off again. She wasn’t alone anymore, and that meant a great deal.

After Faith put breakfast on the table, she packed up some bread and cheese to take with them, and Calvin saddled his horse. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to ride behind me,” he said. “The other horses assigned to the Mountie station are being used right now—Colton and Robert are out on patrol, and Malcolm needs access to his horse in case something comes up while he’s on duty at the station.”

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” Faith replied. Truth be told, the thought of being that close to Calvin made her heart thump a little faster.

“Hmm. Then maybe I won’t be in such a hurry to get you a horse of your own,” he replied, sounding thoughtful.

“I’d be more likely to want my own sled dog team, but I can’t imagine how expensive it would be to keep one fed.” Faith held up the sack of bread and cheese. “I’m ready if you are.”

Calvin put the food in the saddlebags, and within minutes, they were headed off toward the village. Faith had spoken with the other brides about their encounters with the Ojibwe, and that made her even more eager to go out there.

As the horse moved along the path, Faith found it necessary to wrap her arms around Calvin’s waist very securely so she wouldn’t slide off. Hmm. It was every bit as nice as she’d imagined it would be, and she was disappointed to see spirals of smoke coming from up ahead, meaning they were almost to their destination and she would soon have to let go.

When they reached the village, she noticed several women and children working out of doors. The snow had been cleared away from the ground in front of their homes—or perhaps the large fires they’d built had melted it away. Huge pots were set over those fires, and some young girls had been set to the task of stirring the pots’ contents.

“I thought they’d live in teepees,” Faith commented as she dismounted, sliding down into Calvin’s waiting arms. “These homes are made of bark.”

“They’re called wigwams, from what we were told yesterday,” Calvin replied. “Teepees are best for groups that travel—hunters, mainly, who follow the herds. Homes like these are more for the groups who prefer to remain in one spot for longer periods of time.”

He turned and lifted his hand in greeting to an older Ojibwe man who had stepped out of his home. “That’s Edward,” he said to Faith. “Many natives use common names when interacting with white men to avoid language confusion. He told me his given name when I met him before, and I’m sure I’d mispronounce it horribly if I tried.”

Faith understood, but she still wanted to give it a go, and she decided that learning the Ojibwe language would be first on her list of objectives. It was good that so many of them spoke English, but it wasn’t fair for them to do all the hard work when it came to communicating—she could put some effort into it as well.

Calvin presented Faith to Edward, and the man seemed pleased to meet her. “Ah, you met Jane and Sammy,” he replied when Faith asked after them. “She is my niece. They live over here.” He motioned with his hand, and Faith and Calvin walked with him along the edge of the cleared ground. “Her husband was killed last year when he tried to stop a fight,” Edward explained as they walked. “Her life has been difficult.”

“What sort of fight? Was the murderer put in jail?” Calvin asked.

Edward shook his head. “We don’t know who it was. No one is talking, not even so Jane can have justice.”

Faith’s eyes flicked to Calvin. “You . . . don’t know who killed him?” she repeated, thinking she must have misunderstood.

Edward looked down at the ground. “Sometimes things are not said that should be said.” He didn’t go on, and Faith wasn’t satisfied with that cryptic remark. However, she thought it best not to push, and instead followed their guide the rest of the way.

Jane seemed surprised to find that she had visitors, but she welcomed them graciously. Sammy darted out from behind his mother just long enough to touch the fabric of Faith’s cloak, then disappeared again. He seemed drawn to the color like a moth to a flame, which got Faith thinking. She’d seen some red fabric at the mercantile—she could sew a shirt for the little boy so he’d have some red of his very own.

Edward invited Calvin to walk around the village a bit more, leaving the women to visit. Faith hoped she wasn’t being intrusive, but she couldn’t hold back her many questions. Jane answered each with a bit of a smile, probably wondering why she was being interrogated, but she willingly spoke about their traditional foods and how they were prepared, and also shared a few stories about the spiritual guidance that had led the Ojibwe to this part of Canada.

“The spirits spoke to my people and told them of the coming of white men who would seek to take over the land,” Jane told Faith. “So my people moved toward the west, and the white men did come, just as the spirits said.”

That was utterly fascinating. “When was this?”

Jane waved her hand. “Before my grandparents were born. Longer.”

She must have been speaking of Europe’s expansion into Canada. “How does that make your people feel, having to move because someone else wants your land?”

Jane shrugged. “There’s room for everyone if each person only takes their share.”

Over the course of their visit, Jane said many things that spoke to Faith’s heart. This Ojibwe woman wasn’t pointed or overbearing at all in her manner, but the things she said carried their own weight and their own importance, and Faith came away from the conversation feeling as though she’d been instructed in some of the deeper mysteries of the world. She might not have understood everything that was said because her own experiences were so different, but she appreciated hearing about the world through such a vastly varied perspective.

“I feel as though I’ve read a hundred books all at once,” Faith said over the top of Calvin’s shoulder as they cantered away from the village. “I never would have learned those things back home—the culture simply isn’t written about or shared in a way I could have accessed.”

“So, you’re glad you came?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied.

He led the horse just slightly off the path to where a few trees had fallen and created natural benches. As he helped her dismount, he gathered her into his arms for a moment, studying her eyes. “I’m glad you came too,” he said softly. “The other fellows are all right, but I have to say, you’re a sight prettier, and better company, too.”

“I don’t know,” Faith said, pretending to consider it. “Colton’s rather pretty, isn’t he? Or handsome, I should say?”

Calvin looked shocked. “Mrs. Montrose, what are you saying? Do you prefer the looks of one of my fellow Mounties to mine? I could arrest you for treason, you know—treason on the grounds of preferred handsomeness.”

“There’s no such law, and no.” She met his gaze squarely. “I prefer your looks over everyone else’s in the world.”

“Good. Because I didn’t want to have to arrest you.” With a slight tug, he brought her just a little closer, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. She closed her eyes and leaned toward him, soaking in the moment, loving the strength she could feel in his arms, not even noticing the chill in the air. He kissed her for a long, wonderful moment, then released her only enough to say, “We should eat and be on our way.” Instead of letting her go, though, he kissed her again, and she had to confess, she rather liked it.

A moment later, he did actually let her go, and they sat on the logs and ate. “You should have something hot before you leave for your shift,” she said, feeling bad that his lunch was so simple. “I have some soup at the cabin that I can warm up for you.”

“That would be nice, depending on what time we get back,” Calvin said. “I know you’re meeting Mr. Larsen at one—I can warm my own soup if you need to leave.”

“I’d almost forgotten about that—I was completely wrapped up in what I was learning from Jane.” Faith ate the last bite of her cheese and then brushed all the crumbs from the front of her cape. “I suppose we really do need to hurry, although I don’t mind our reasons for being a little late.”

He grinned, and she knew he understood that she was referring to the kissing. “I don’t mind those reasons either, but we should go.”

She snuggled up to his back again as the horse began to move, and after they hit an easy pace, Calvin covered her hand with his as it rested on his stomach. She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling almost completely, perfectly happy in that moment.

***

“And that’s how you get the dogs to turn,” Mr. Larsen said. “So, we’ve covered starting, stopping, and turning—now all that’s left is for you to try it.”

Faith took a deep breath and looked down at the dogs, who were looking right back at her with anticipation. “Are you sure I’m ready?”

“No amount of standing here and talking about it is going to take the place of actually doing it,” Mr. Larsen replied. “You have to feel the shift and the balance of the sled and sense the movement of the dogs before you’ll really understand what I’m talking about. Up you go.”

She pressed her lips together and stepped onto the runners of the sled, grasping the handles with shaking fingers. Mr. Larsen had piled some sacks of flour on the front of the sled so it wouldn’t be too light, and she supposed she was as ready as she’d ever be. “All right,” she said, closing her eyes tight and then opening them again. “Ready.”

“Off you go, then.”

The longer she thought about it, the more she’d delay. Without giving it another thought, she yelled, “Mush!” as she’d been taught to do. Mr. Larsen had explained that it had nothing to do with eating porridge, as it sounded like, but rather, came from the French “marche,” meaning, to walk. She’d been glad for the explanation—she’d always wondered what porridge had to do with dog sledding.

As soon as the word left her mouth, her new furry friends leaped forward, and she could understand why Calvin had gone flying on his first attempt. The sled moved forward with a jerk, and if she hadn’t been hanging on with a white-knuckled grip, she would have flown right off as well. Instead, she adjusted her feet a bit better as the sled moved across the frozen surface of the snow, and found herself really enjoying the moment. She almost wished she could bark right along with the dogs—they had such a free and easy way of expressing their joy.

She didn’t manage to turn very smoothly and nearly fell off as she brought the dogs back around, but she did maintain her grip, and she was very pleased with herself when she finally stepped off the runners, her legs like jelly. “How did I do?” she asked breathlessly.

Mr. Larsen nodded, a big grin on his face. “We’ll make a musher out of you yet,” he replied.

***

The morning patrol didn’t have anything to report, and now Robert and Calvin were riding out to investigate the eastern sections of land they’d marked out on the map. Malcolm was holding down the office while Colton went home, and it seemed that their rotation schedule was working well. Calvin smiled to himself as they cantered along, thinking about how nice it had felt to ride with Faith’s arms around his waist. She was so trusting, it made him want to be even more worthy of that trust.

“I know there are some trap lines laid out through those trees,” Robert said, motioning off to the left. They’d veered off the trail several moments before, hoping to create an element of surprise, but in many spots, the undergrowth was still too thick, and their horses had to be selective in their footing. That was just as well because the traps were more likely to be in the spots where the horses couldn’t step. Calvin hated to imagine what would happen if a horse were to be caught in a bear trap, for instance—it could snap the poor animal’s fetlock and cause untold suffering.

“And trapper cabins?” Calvin asked.

“Just a couple that we’ve been told about. Malcolm said he’s been asking around.” Robert dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. As he handed it over to Calvin, he added, “What I wouldn’t give for decent street addresses out here.”

Calvin studied the page. Three fur trappers, with directions such as one mile past the fork in the trail. He chuckled. “Yeah, this is hardly useful, but it’s the best we have for a start.”

They rode around in what felt like circles, searching for any signs of activity. Here and there, they found footprints and hoof prints, but they didn’t stumble upon anything that looked at all suspicious. Calvin was beginning to wonder if he’d even know what something suspicious looked like.

“Time to head back in,” Robert said after a few hours had gone by. Calvin was glad to hear it, as his nose had long since lost all feeling, but he was disappointed as well. He knew he shouldn’t expect results on their first time out, and yet he disliked feeling as though all that time had been wasted.

“We’ll bring them in,” Robert said, clapping his hand on Calvin’s shoulder. Somehow, the more experienced Mountie knew what Calvin was thinking and feeling—he’d probably been there himself many times.

Chapter Nine

Faith’s legs were still rubbery from her driving lesson, but she managed to get some bread in the oven and start some soup for dinner. It was almost like she could still feel the vibration under her feet and flowing through her hands. She supposed it was just a matter of getting used to it, but for now, it certainly felt odd to be standing on solid flooring and to feel as though it was slipping out from under her.

A knock came at the door, and she moved to answer it. It was almost dark, and she startled when she found herself looking into the face of a skinned rabbit.

“Surprise!” The rabbit was lowered, and behind it was the face of a certain suspected moonshiner. “I was out hunting and bagged one more rabbit than I really needed, and I thought you might use a little extra thank you for your hospitality.”

Faith caught her breath and smiled. “Thank you, Henry. That’s so thoughtful of you. Would you like some coffee?”

“No, but thank you, ma’am. I’m heading home now and want to get there before too much later.” He handed her the rabbit, touched the brim of his hat, and then paused.

“Ma’am, would you like me to remove the head for you before I go?”

“Oh, yes, please, Henry. I’d be so grateful.”

He grinned, took the rabbit back, and stepped out of sight. From the sound, she assumed that he’d moved over to the chopping block and made use of the ax. She tried not to shudder thinking about it. She wasn’t necessarily squeamish, but she didn’t enjoy pondering on all the things that went into making a meal from a once-live animal.

Henry brought the rabbit back, gave her another grin, and disappeared into the evening light.

Faith stood in the doorway for a long moment, holding the rabbit, perplexed. Fresh meat was a blessing, and not something she’d ever turn down, but she’d never cooked a rabbit in her life. How in the world . . .?

Finally, she carried it over to the counter, placed it in a large bowl, washed her hands, and crossed over to Minnie’s cabin. If ever she needed cooking advice, it was now.

Minnie laughed when Faith told her about opening the door to see the rabbit staring at her. “Oh, my,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Yes, that must have startled you.”

“It was just staring at me with this accusing look,” Faith said, unable to keep from pulling a face as she spoke. “Like it blamed me for everything, but it wasn’t my fault.”

Minnie giggled. “Well, I can’t help you with that, but I can tell you how to cook it. Did you want to serve it tonight, or did you want to freeze it for later? You could put it in a snow basin and eat it another time.”

“I think I’d as soon cook it now,” Faith replied.

“All right.” Minnie outlined everything she should do, and Faith nodded several times. It didn’t sound too complicated, and the actual baking process sounded quite a lot like chicken. She could do this—she knew she could.

Before she left, Faith sat down with Olivia and told her a little story, using her fingers as shadow puppets. The little girl loved trying to mimic Faith’s movements, studying the wall intently.

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother someday,” Minnie told her, and Faith just barely managed a smile.

When she reached her own cabin again, she added a bit more wood to the stove, then stood in front of the rabbit and studied it. She could do this—Minnie had made it sound so easy. She placed the meat in her roasting pan, then rubbed it down with a bit of butter and sprinkled it with some dried herbs. Then she placed the pan in the oven. She’d come back in a little while and flip the rabbit over, buttering the other side as well. She hoped she had enough on hand to make a difference.

Calvin’s grin was wide with appreciation when he came in and saw what she’d been doing. “I never expected rabbit for dinner,” he said, crossing the floor and kissing her cheek. “It’s one of my all-time favorite meals.”

“It is?” Faith’s chest clenched. What if she’d made a horrible mess of it?

“My mother makes a fantastic baked rabbit.” He washed his hands, then sat down and looked at her expectantly.

She forced a smile. “I’ve never actually made it before. We didn’t live in a place where it was plentiful.”

“My mother grew up in a less-populated area, and her father hunted quite a bit. My parents live in town now, but she still cooks up rabbit whenever she finds it available.”

Faith gave him an apprehensive look. “Minnie told me what to do. You’ll be patient with me, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Faith lifted a piece onto his plate, then watched for his reaction. He cut a bite with his fork, chewed a few times, and then swallowed, reaching for his water glass.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, the panic rising.

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied. “It just needs a little more time in the oven.”

She dropped her face to her hands. “I served you undercooked meat? And you swallowed it?”

“I was raised never to spit at the dinner table.” He reached out and took her hand, gently pulling it away from her face. “Sweetheart, you’ve done nothing wrong. We’ll just put it back in the oven.”

“But you’re hungry . . . and it’s your favorite . . .”

“Yes, I’m hungry, but there’s bread on the table, and I see some jam, and did you know that bread and jam is my second-most favorite meal ever?”

She dropped her other hand. “No, it’s not. No one’s second-favorite meal ever is bread and jam.”

“It is too. And I wouldn’t lie—I’m a Mountie.” He stood up, opened the oven door, slid the roasting pan inside, and sat back down. “I’d be perfectly content to sit here at this table with my beautiful wife and eat bread and jam forever.”

She couldn’t help it. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. “You’re too good to me.”

“What? Too good to you? Impossible.” He brushed the tear away. “What’s the matter? Why are you so upset tonight?’

“I don’t know. I think I’m overly tired. Going to the village and learning to drive a sled both on the same day was likely too much for me.”

“Then let’s do this.” Calvin stood again, took both her hands and tugged her to a standing position, then led her into the bedroom. “Lie down and have a rest. I’ll wake you up when the rabbit’s done, and we’ll eat dinner together then.”

That sounded absolutely wonderful, but it seemed so . . . lazy. Shouldn’t wives be up and doing and useful? “I don’t know . . .”

“I do know.” He took her elbow and eased her to sit on the bed, then bent down and unlaced her shoes, which he pulled off and set side-by-side on the floor. “The rabbit won’t be done for about an hour. Take a nap. I think you’ve more than earned it.” He stood, kissed her forehead, and left the room, pausing in the doorway only long enough to smile at her.

She stared after him in surprise. He’d just tucked her into bed—well, as much as he could, with her still sitting up and all. What a kind thing to do. She slid her legs under the blankets, not caring that her skirts were cumbersome, and leaned back on the pillows. Had any husband ever been so sweet?

When he came in a little while later, he woke her by kissing her forehead. “Hey,” he whispered. “Would you like some rabbit, or would you rather stay asleep?”

Her eyes were sleepy as she looked up at him, and she felt utterly content. “I’ll come taste the rabbit,” she said after stretching. “After all my worrying, I need to see how the story ends.”

He laughed. “That would be a shame.” He made to stand up, but she reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said. “Having this rest was exactly what I needed. Thank you for seeing that and encouraging me to take it.”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “I hope I always encourage you to have the things you need.” He bent down and kissed her lips, and then again, and it was quite a few moments before the rabbit was eaten after all.

***

Calvin sat at the desk inside the Mountie station, supposedly doing some paperwork, but he couldn’t concentrate. Instead, his mind kept wandering to his sweet wife and the hard work she’d put into baking him the saddest little rabbit he’d ever seen. She’d wanted so badly to please him—that touched his heart more deeply than he could say. To have someone at home who loved him and cared about his wellbeing—he could go out into the world and do just about anything that would be asked of him, knowing she was waiting for him and depending on him.

It had been so hard to wake up that morning. He’d stared at her for several minutes, memorizing every detail, admiring every curl. He didn’t stop until she said, “Do I need to be concerned?” Then she’d laughed, and he felt a little silly, and they’d kissed again before getting up to start breakfast together.

It was the perfect start to the day, and he hoped it would be repeated often.

He finally brought his attention back to the work in front of him and was working on a report detailing a fistfight at the saloon when the door opened with a bang. He shot up from his chair as a man staggered in, supporting the weight of another in his arms.

“Found him out on the trail, Corporal,” the first man gasped. “Must have been out there for hours.”

Calvin stepped to the other side, and between the two of them, they laid their burden down on the cot in the corner of the jail cell. He wished there was another bed available, but there wasn’t—at least he could prop the door open so no one felt as though they were under arrest.

He looked down into the face of the man on the bed. “Henry?” He felt for a pulse—it was there, but weak. He glanced back up at the other man, someone he’d never met before. “What’s your name?”

“Haskell, sir. Bob Haskell.”

“Go for the doctor, Mr. Haskell, and hurry.”

The man gave a nod and left.

Calvin turned back to Henry, trying to figure out what was wrong. Exposure was definite—his skin was far colder than it should have been, and his skin looked gray. Calvin stepped over to the stove—yes, there was still coffee in the pot, and he’d give some to Henry as soon as he was awake enough to swallow. Calvin threw more wood into the stove and left the front open, trying to force more air into the room, then returned to Henry’s side and unfastened the buttons of his coat. It seemed he’d be doing that often for this man.

As he lifted the wet material away from Henry’s chest, he saw something this time that brought him up short. A massive amount of blood had come from a wound in his side and had frozen or congealed to the fabric, and as he removed the coat, he had started the bleeding up again.

Calvin swore under his breath, promising himself that he’d apologize to his mother for it later, and grabbed for the first aid kit by the desk. He pulled out a bandage, pressed it to the wound, and held it there. The gauze was soaked instantly, and he went through every bandage in succession, piling one on top of the others, trying to create a large-enough pad to contain the bleeding, but there was just too much.

The door to the station opened and Robert came in, followed by Mr. Haskell. “Doc’s out of town,” Robert said, ripping off his coat and stepping up next to Calvin. “I’m the next-best thing, I guess.”

“He’s been shot in the side, has uncontrollable bleeding, and has exposure,” Calvin explained. Then he turned and called over his shoulder, “Mr. Haskell, I need you to run over to the mercantile and get me as much muslin as you can. Just grab the whole bolt.”

He nodded and headed back out.

Calvin glanced at Robert’s face. His fellow Mountie’s lips were set in a thin line as he examined the wound the best he could without dislodging the gauze. “Even if the doctor were here, I don’t think he’d make it,” Robert said. “Look.”

Calvin bent over. “I’m not sure what you’re showing me.”

“That’s not fresh blood. This blood was frozen onto his skin and is now melting onto the gauze in the warmth of the room.”

“No fresh blood . . .”

“Means he’s running out of blood to lose,” Robert finished for him. “This man is going to die.”

Calvin stepped back. He’d known that on some level, but he hadn’t pieced together that the blood wasn’t fresh. It was bright, like fresh blood would be, but because it had been frozen, of course it wouldn’t have lost its color.

Malcolm entered the station next, his coat not buttoned yet. “What’s going on?”

Calvin outlined the situation, and Malcolm nodded. “I’ll speak to Mr. Haskell and find out where he found this man. Then we’ll ride back and see if we can find a blood trail, which will hopefully lead us to a culprit. I’ve got Colton with me. Carry on.”

Mr. Haskell delivered the muslin and then left again with Malcolm and Colton. Robert and Calvin kept applying pressure to the wound, even though it seemed hopeless. After about an hour, Henry took a long, stuttering breath, then went perfectly still. Robert didn’t move for several moments, then released his hold on the muslin and stepped back.

“You did a good job, Calvin,” he said. “You did everything you could have done.”

Calvin lowered himself into one of the chairs in the office, feeling every last bit of strength leaving me. “I wish I could have done more.”

Robert clapped him on the shoulder as he sat in a nearby chair. “This is the life of a Mountie—sometimes we’re able to save lives and be heroes and make all the difference in the world, and other times, despite all our best efforts, the worst happens anyway, and we feel helpless to do anything about it. It’s at those times when we realize how much of a difference we really are making. That man didn’t die alone. Mr. Haskell brought him here and did everything he could to help. You began his care right away. Malcolm and Colton will track down whoever did this. We couldn’t save his life, but differences were made.”

Calvin rubbed his hands over his face. He could hear the truth in the words Robert was saying, but he was too numb to understand them. “Faith will be so sorry to hear this,” he said. “She and Henry were friends.” That rabbit meal seemed so long ago, even though it had just been the night before.

“That’s too bad,” Robert replied.

They sat in silence until Calvin got up the strength to stand and pour them each a cup of coffee. He wanted to step across the way and go see Faith, but that would have to wait—he was still on duty, and he couldn’t turn to her every time he was upset. That would definitely slow down his work. He’d share everything with her when he got home.

It seemed like a wait of a million years before Malcolm and Colton returned. They flopped into the remaining chairs and unbuttoned their jackets, looking entirely done in.

“We followed the trail backwards, using some drops of blood we found here and there,” Malcolm said. “We followed it back into the woods for about a mile—tied up the horses and went on foot. We saw boot prints pretty clearly, and those were easy to follow, even when there were gaps between the blood drops. After a while, we came to a clearing, and found a rather large amount of blood, like someone had been shot at that location, and we also found this.” Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a short length of metal tubing. “They left in a hurry and forgot this.”

“Part of a still,” Calvin said, not asking a question, but stating a fact. “So, what happened? Was Henry part of it, or not?”

“We didn’t find any evidence either way,” Malcolm replied. “All we found was the blood splatter and the tubing.”

Calvin pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. “And so there’s obviously no way to know who killed him.” He remembered what they’d heard at the Ojibwe village, how Jane’s husband had been killed and no one would speak up. Was Henry to have no justice either?

“Men, we’ve just arrived here,” Malcolm reminded them. “We’ve only barely begun to investigate. We’re not sunk—we’re not defeated. We’ve been collecting pieces of information, and we’re going to continue on with this until we learn who’s behind the moonshining and how the Ojibwe are involved. We’re not giving up.”

Calvin nodded. He wasn’t going to let this dampen his fervor to serve the people of this community. He would use it as fuel to push forward.

***

Faith stood in her doorway, watching Finnegan play. It was snowing again, but lightly, and he was trying to catch the snowflakes in his mouth. His tongue lolled as he jumped up and down, looking so much like a puppy.

“Mrs. Montrose?”

The shopkeeper was crunching his way toward her, his collar turned up. She wondered what could have brought him away from the warmth of the mercantile—it was too cold for much else beyond watching a happy fox enjoying his environment.

“Yes? You’ll catch your death—why are you out?”

“I thought you’d want this.” He held up a letter. “The mail finally came through.”

Her breath caught. The letter from her mother. Everything she’d been doing over the last few days—dog sledding, visiting, even cooking—had been to keep her mind off this letter. She accepted it with a smile, offered the man coffee, and as soon as she was alone, she sat down and stared at the envelope, tracing her mother’s familiar handwriting with the tip of her finger.

Now she just had to be brave enough to read the words.

She slipped her finger beneath the seal and broke it, telling herself that no amount of lollygagging would change the information inside. It was what it was, and she might as well know the truth of it.

Dear Faith,

I’m sorry if I confused you or caused you alarm with my last letter. I didn’t realize that you weren’t aware of your condition. How could you be, though—I don’t think we spoke of it much afterwards, and I apologize to you for that. I truly do. I did you a great disservice.

Do you remember the abdominal surgery you had when you were thirteen? That’s likely a foolish question—I’m sure you do remember it. You were in a great deal of pain beforehand, and the recovery was quite long. The doctor believed at first that it was your appendix, but when he operated, he found that you had a massive tumor on your uterus. It was necessary to remove it entirely to save your life.

We believe that we’ve come so far as a society—speaking out more on the subject of women’s rights and other things that are important to us, but we’re still rather shy when it comes to discussing women’s health. My dear, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t bolder in telling you what was going on inside you. I fear that my sheltered upbringing has caused you more pain than you otherwise would have gone through had you known.

Please ask if you have any other questions. I’ll do my best to answer them without letting my shyness be an impediment.

All my love,

Mother

Faith’s hands fell into her lap, and she stared at the wall. She remembered that surgery very well, and in fact, she’d believed ever since that it had been her appendix. No one had even hinted that was the wrong diagnosis. To learn, now, after all this time that it was something quite different . . . she didn’t know what to think or feel. Was it too late to start missing something she didn’t know she’d lost?

When the door opened, she almost didn’t realize Calvin was home until he was standing right in front of her. She blinked. Had she made anything for dinner? She couldn’t even remember.

“Faith, I need to tell you something,” he said.

She nearly replied that she needed to talk to him too, but the look on his face told her that something was seriously wrong. Her news wouldn’t change—it could wait. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

Calvin sat across from her and pulled off his gloves as he told her of Henry being brought into the Mountie station, the struggle to save his life, and his eventual death, after everything they could do. Faith couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was too astonishing to be real. “But he was here just last night,” she said, trying to comprehend it. “He . . . he brought us a rabbit.”

Calvin reached out and placed a hand on her knee. “We did everything we could, sweetheart, but he was too far gone.”

She met his gaze with hers and saw that he was just as upset as she was. “Oh,” she whispered. “You’ve never lost someone in your care before, have you?”

Calvin shook his head.

She stood and wrapped her arms around him. He brought his arms up and entwined them around her waist, and together, they mourned the passing of a man who might have been anything—an outlaw, an innocent bystander, the ringleader. Whatever he might have been to the rest of the world, to them, he had been a friend, and that’s how they would think of him.

It was full dark before they thought of anything else. Faith went into the kitchen and pulled together a light meal from the remnants she could find, wishing she’d taken the time earlier to put together something nice. She placed it on the table, then sat, her hands on the table in front of her. She was hungry, but she didn’t think she’d be able to eat.

Calvin took a few bites of soup, then paused. “Are you all right? You’re not eating.”

She nodded, but then she shook her head. “I don’t want to add to your burdens tonight—it’s already been such a hard day.”

He set down his spoon. “If something else has happened, please tell me. You shouldn’t have to carry it alone.”

That was what she’d hoped he would say, but it was still difficult to find the words. “You’ve mentioned that you’d like to have children someday.”

He lifted an eyebrow, looking curious. “Yes, I’d hoped to. I can imagine a little girl with your long, dark hair and bright eyes.”

Faith took a deep breath. “I’ve found out something today . . . something I didn’t know before . . . and I hope you can forgive me, Calvin. I didn’t mean to mislead you or lie to you in any way.”

“Sweetheart, it’s all right. Whatever it is.”

“But it’s not, not really. I can’t have children, Calvin.” A tear ran down her cheek—gracious, she’d been doing a lot of crying lately. No wonder she felt so spent. She took her mother’s letter from her pocket and handed it to him. She was a bit hesitant to let him read something that spoke so frankly of women’s matters, but that was just the problem, wasn’t it? If they didn’t become more emboldened to speak about it, women would continue to suffer. And as Calvin was her husband, he needed to know and to understand what she was facing.

He read the letter over, then glanced at her and read it again. She died a million deaths while waiting for his response. She’d hoped that she’d come to mean something to him, that he would value her above any children she might bring—or not bring—to their union, but how could she really know that?

At long last, he placed the letter on the table. “I’m so sorry,” he said, then paused and cleared his throat. A pang shot through her chest. What was he sorry about? Why wasn’t he finishing his sentence? Then he continued. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through something so horrible, sweetheart. It hurts me to think of you in such pain, and when you were so young, too.”

She couldn’t detect any censure in his voice, or anger, or any of the other things she’d been fearing. “You . . . aren’t upset with me?”

“Upset with you? How could I be? You’ve made me a home. You’ve given me your love and your devotion and your time. You . . . made me a rabbit, for goodness’ sake.”

“A terrible rabbit,” she corrected him.

“A terrible rabbit, but I loved it because you made it. Faith, you have made my life into something more wonderful than I’d ever imagined. Yes, I’ll miss having children—I won’t lie to you. But we will love all the children around us, and we’ll love each other, and we’ll make something rich of our lives because we’ll do it side-by-side.”

She searched his eyes and couldn’t see anything but love in them. “Are we going to make it here, Calvin? Are we really going to have success?”

He stood, came around the table, and pulled her into his arms. “Yes. Yes. We’re going to be so successful, everyone will be jealous. We’re going to be the happiest couple. We’re going to track down the moonshiners. We’re going to do everything we were sent here to do, and when our assignment here is up, we’ll move on to our next post and we’ll be successful there too. Faith, as long as we have each other, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

She meant to reply with something equally as inspirational, but she found that it was very hard to talk when her husband was kissing her, and after a few minutes, she decided to stop trying. Talking was quite overrated anyway.

Epilogue

The Mounties continued their investigation for the next few weeks. Each day, Calvin would tell Faith what progress they had made in searching for Henry’s killer, and at times, she grew disheartened that it seemed to be taking forever. If no one would come forward, how were they ever to know the truth?

At last, when Mr. Kirk was arrested for his long list of misdeeds, it came out that Henry had gotten in his way. Henry had worked for him for quite a while, but when he had a change of heart, Mr. Kirk didn’t take too kindly to that. Faith was more than happy to see Mr. Kirk receive the punishments of the law for everything he’d done.

In time, she finished Sammy’s red shirt, and he wore it proudly almost every day—it was quite the feat for his mother to get it off him long enough to wash it. And Calvin finally figured out why food was being left behind the outhouse … tasty snacks for a little fox named Finnegan.

THE END

March 1st, 1911

Dear Mom,

I’m putting pen to paper to tell you just how much we miss you. I’ve been busy, but the midwife told me it was time to start taking it easy. I’m as big as a house!

Theodore is really taking to the idea of impending fatherhood. The cradle he’s made for the baby makes me want to weep with joy every time I set eyes on it, which is often because it’s in the main room of our cabin.

I have another group of Mounties who are looking for wives. One of Evelyn’s brothers is stationed in southeast Manitoba, and he and three of his men would like to be matched up with four women.

Gilbert is looking for a mother for his twin three-year-old daughters. He doesn’t want someone to love at all. Marshall is a quiet man who probably needs someone to bring him out of his shell. Andrew is a strong man who has a sad history, and he needs a woman who doesn’t want more children. Peter Murray is Evelyn’s brother, and he’s the corporal. He wants someone who can cook and clean for him, like they all do—and perhaps with a good sense of humor.

I hope that’s enough information to get started, and I will forward their letters once they arrive.

All our love. Hope you can visit soon!

Jess and Theodore

About Amelia C. Adams

Amelia C. Adams is a wife, a mother, an eater of chocolate, and a taker of naps. She spends her days thinking up stories and her nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you just might see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels.

You can reach her at ameliaadamsauthor@gmail.com.

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The Kansas Crossroads Series:

A New Beginning (free!)

A Free Heart

The Dark and the Dawn

A Clean Slate

A Clear Hope

The Whisper of Morning

A Careless Wind

A Narrow Road

The Bitter and the Sweet

The Calm of Night

A Begrudging Bride

A Broken Wing (A Kansas Crossroads novella)

A Twisted Fate

An Unspoken Dream

A Joyful Noise

The Nurses of New York series:

Sea of Strangers (free!)

Cause of Conflict

Touch of Tenderness

Heart of Hearts

Test of Time

The American Mail-Order Brides series:

Hope: Bride of New Jersey

Tabitha: Bride of Missouri

The Hearts of Nashville series:

Whiskey and Women

Records and Rebels

As part of the Brides of Beckham series by Kirsten Osbourne:

Mail Order Molly

As part of the River’s End Ranch series:

Accidental Agent

Rugged Rockclimber

Welcome Wagon

Santa’s Shopkeeper

Delivering Destiny

Lucky Lifeguard

Poinsettia Promises

Christmas Catch-Up III

As part of the Grandma’s Wedding Quilts series:

Meredith’s Mistake

As part of the Magnolias and Moonshine series:

Sweet Georgia Peach

As part of the Burnt River series:

Ashley’s Hope

Phoebe’s Fate

As part of the Rocky Mountain Romances series:

Utah Sunrise

As part of the Mail Order Mounties series:

Bride for Joel

Bride for Jonathan

Bride for Samuel

As part of the Seven Sons series:

Benjamin

Daniel

Frank