Give Me A Texan

To

Debbie Hunt:

Lover of literature,

friend, and slot-machine enthusiast extraordinaire.

You fixed me when I was broken.

Thank you.

Chapter 1

February 19, 1916

Wind rattled the pane, warning that winter might stage a final battle before giving in to spring. Briar Duncan stared out the window at the variety of humanity that had arrived in Amarillo daily since the new year. Strangers strode along the depot’s platform, tipping their straw boaters and Stetsons to the ladies disembarking. Lingering wisps of frontier gun-smoke made Amarillo a meeting place for past and present these days. The city sprawling golden across the Texas Panhandle had suddenly become host to an influx of men posed to fight-a back-porch base to El Paso where other fortune hunters, adventurers, and doughboys positioned themselves for Pancho Villa’s next move.

Seeing no sign of his coworker among the new arrivals, Briar decided Nathaniel must have chosen to stay in St. Louis longer than expected. If he didn’t get back soon, the telegrapher would miss his opportunity to be part of the excitement. William Randolph Hearst had used every telegraph and teletype machine west of the Mississippi to keep him informed of the security of his cattle herds and silver mines. Briar had been so busy with taking care of Nathaniel’s job that he’d had little time to do his own as station master. That left even less time to waylay his daughter’s latest shenanigans.

“If you don’t hurry home,” Briar admonished the train as if it were his longtime friend, Nathaniel, “Violet will outgrow those dresses you’re bringing back.”

Thoughts of his seven-year-old daughter’s latest growing spurt made Briar focus his attention on the hobbled skirts and new ankle-length war crinoline worn by some of the women. Wind whipped at the crinoline, making the fuller skirts billow. Parasols dipped to block dust and soot from blasting the feminine faces.

A dull throb started a rhythmic beat across Briar’s brow and threatened to become a full-throttled brain buster. Blazes. Choosing clothes for Violet was worse than shoveling coal to feed the firebox. He had as much fashion sense as a cow had wool. Still, it was his duty to see that his daughter was accepted into genteel society one day. If that meant reading ladies’s catalogues and taking heed of the latest feminine finery, then he’d do so until he could tell bustle from bonnet.

Briar watched as a tall, slender figure suddenly stepped off the train, set down a valise, and faced the wind. “Well, who the high plains are you?” he asked aloud. The stranger wore a lampshade tunic with baggy trousers gathered at the ankle and a matching yellow turban that offered an exotic halo to a mixture of doe-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. A woman?

She bent to retrieve something laying on the platform, studied it, and turned the item over in her hands. With a quick flick of the wrist, she deposited the article in a pocket.

It was then he noticed her watching him. His first impulse was to back away from the window and pretend that he hadn’t been staring at her. Instead, something made Briar stand his ground. Meet her gaze.

He longed for something different in his life lately, something other than his repetition of duties and responsibilities. He loved Violet and didn’t resent a moment of his time with her. She was all he had left. But when the world seemed active and he felt trapped in monotonous duties, he longed for a change…for anything that would bring some sort of adventure to his days. Something in the gaze that stared back at him now whispered that this strange-looking woman might have brought it with her. A muscle in his jaw tightened as his spirits threatened to dampen. He knew with certainty that it would bother him if she looked away as if he’d been mistaken in her interest.

When she smiled and retrieved the treasure, holding it out toward him in silent question, blood surged hot within him. “No.” He shook his head as if she could hear him from the distance that separated them. “Not mine.”

She shrugged and put it away, grabbing her valise while letting her gaze linger on him once again. Just as suddenly as she had exited the train, she turned and joined the stream of passengers heading toward town. He watched until the yellow of her clothing blended with the myriad of newcomers rushing to find transportation to their next destinations. The other women and their fashions now suddenly seemed plain or even frivolous.

“No wonder you didn’t want to wear the blamed thing this morning,” he mumbled as he eyed the crowd for sight of his daughter among the stifling skirts that made the wearers’s steps more difficult. The little minx had argued that no “suffer-gette” would let herself be hobbled like a horse. When he asked where she had heard such nonsense, she told him that one of the doughboys who’d gotten off the train told another soldier that a “suffer-gette” was a woman who had a mind of her own and the gumption to walk in a man’s shoes.

As odd as the woman in the turban had looked in her harem pants, he’d bet she had no problem moving in any manner she chose. Was she a suffragette? The idea of getting to know her well enough to discover her capabilities appealed to Briar just long enough to quickly dash it from his thoughts.

If Violet caught sight of the stranger, he’d never hear the end of letting her wear pants!

Tumbleweeds, buggies, and touring cars fought for supremacy over the roadway that transferred visitors from the train station to places of lodging elsewhere in the city. It was almost impossible to get a hotel or boarding room lately. Doughboys heading south to El Paso were even pitching their Sibley tents if lodging proved unavailable.

Sand flicked the thick glass, sounding like angry insects committing suicide against the depot. The sun would be setting in a couple of hours and he hadn’t seen Violet since she had gone off to fly her kite. Frowning, Briar reprimanded himself for allowing the strangely dressed woman to distract him. His gaze wandered to a group of boys wrestling farther down the platform. The militant atmosphere that pervaded Amarillo the past few weeks had roused most of the citizens in some form or fashion. He’d bet today’s wages his daughter would be somewhere nearby. She tended to herd with the steeds and leave the mares to their grazing. If only Katie Rose were here. She’d know how to work through this little revolution Violet seemed so insistent upon.

“I’ll black your eye and knock you two days into next Tuesday,” a tiny, familiar voice shrilled sharply through Briar’s thoughts.

Behind him Briar heard a tick-tick-tickety-tick begin in earnest, signaling an incoming message. Yet, he was forced to ignore it. “Stop that,” he demanded, throwing open the door to the telegraph office and rushing down the platform to stop the group of boys. A tangle of hobbled skirt flipped end over end with a melee of trousers. Heads turned as others noticed the fight and stopped to see what had caused the ruckus.

Exasperation filled him. Wasn’t someone else going to do something about the situation instead of just standing there? Was everyone so ready to fight that they’d stand by and gawk as the children went at it? Well, the wire could just sing for the moment. Preserving his rowdy daughter’s dignity was of more importance.

“You boys stop fighting.” He peeled one lad off another. “Violet, get up from there before you lose a tooth or…Now look at you…you’re going to have a black eye.”

All the children stood as if someone had aimed a rifle at them; everyone but his daughter, who avoided a direct gaze at Briar. Black brows arched like check marks over eyes that had inspired her name. One gloved fist came to rest on her hip, the other shaking vehemently at the red-haired, freckled-face boy standing opposite her. Just wonderful, Briar thought. One of the Corbetts’ grandchildren. The newspaper moguls weren’t over Violet’s last jumble.

“He said you’re a desk dandy, Daddy, so I went and hit him.” The eye that was not swelling and showing signs of bruising narrowed. “I told him I would, but he said it again. You said we should give one warning, and I gave it. It’s his fault he got the licking, not mine.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell my daddy.” The boy started crying. “I didn’t tell no lie. You are a desk dandy.”

“Don’t tell your daddy, Jim,” one of the other boys advised. “He’ll take a switch to ya for letting a girl whip ya.”

“A suffer-gette girl,” Violet proclaimed as she lifted her chin proudly.

The other boys started chanting. “Violet whipped Jim. Violet whipped Jim. Beat the fire out of him, he-um, he-um.”

Violet giggled, setting off another scuffle. Fists went flying and legs kicking. Violet lunged forward. Briar spread his arms, blocking his daughter’s fist from joining in again. “You kids get out of here or I’m going to talk to each of your parents. Take this battle elsewhere, unless you want some explaining to do.”

They scattered like rabbits chased by a wolf.

“Come inside,” he insisted. “It’ll be suppertime soon, and you look like you could use some cleaning. We’ll go home early-”

“I didn’t do nothing.” She stood her ground. “He laughed at my dress and called you a name. I told you I shouldn’ta worn it, but you made me. So it’s your fault.”

Briar bent so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. He knuckled her chin gently and lifted it. “Honey, his words didn’t hurt Daddy, and he’s too young to know the value of a pretty dress.” Ripped at the empire waist, the garment would never be fit to wear again. Not that he would let her wear another one like it. It played too prominent a part in tangling her feet and, consequently, blacking her eye.

The ticking of the telegraph persisted. Briar glanced toward the machine as if willing it to answer itself. “Come inside for a minute, pumpkin. I’ll answer the machine, then we’ll get you cleaned up and talk about this at-”

“I gotta go get my kite. I left it,” she said, stepping away and pointing past him. “You said proper ladies take care of their things.”

“Don’t be long, then.” Briar gave in, knowing she had used his own sense of propriety to take her leave. A momentary wave of parental ethics engulfed him. “But don’t think this has ended,” he warned and gave the top of her head a quick pat. “We’ll talk about this at supper.”

Violet took off abruptly and turned around to wave, babbling that indecipherable chatter she and the other children used when they wanted to keep adults at bay. It irritated him to no end that he couldn’t understand a single word of the child-speak, but she refused to include him in its meanings. He wouldn’t put it past the little firebrand if it was some sort of secret code used to mount an insurrection against parents. Briar laughed despite the seriousness of the possibility. He dearly loved everything about her, including her obstinate attitude.

Tickety, tick, tick. “All right, all right,” Briar complained to the impatient instrument. “I’m coming.” His long-legged gate closed the distance in a few steps.

No rest for the totally outmaneuvered, he told himself, silently warming to his daughter’s sweet manipulations. She was personality to the hilt and headstrong as her mother. The only thing she’d inherited from him was his dark hair and twilight-shaded eyes. Everything else was Katie Rose. How could he find fault in that?

Briar listened intently to the incoming message. Relief flooded him. Nathaniel. Lord, but he was glad to hear from him.

Have answer. Stop. Arriving Amarillo by morning of Feb 20. Nathaniel.

Briar’s smile wavered. Though his friend would be home tomorrow, the partial message was unclear. Have what answer? The only problem they’d discussed before leaving was whom they could get to look after Violet while they worked. Surely, Nathaniel hadn’t gone and hired a governess in St. Louis. He wouldn’t do that without consulting him, would he?

“You’re supposed to be bringing dresses,” Briar told the machine as if it were Nathaniel. “I can find somebody here to help us.”

Heaven knew there were enough new people in town lately to choose among. Trouble was, he preferred hiring someone he and Nathaniel knew well. Someone they could trust to teach Violet about silk and sashes and show her the delicacies of becoming a well-bred young lady. Someone not easily daunted by a feisty seven-year-old. Briar knew that Violet needed a special magic, a social polish that he had never found within himself. Maybe the telegram meant just what it said. Interviewing a governess would certainly explain the telegrapher’s long absence.

Briar watched the engine’s steam billow and swirl away with the gusts of air. “Blow some magic in with you, wind, will you?” Briar whispered. “If Nathaniel’s bringing someone back with him, make her an angel. One who has a will strong enough to do battle with a devilish, little imp.”

One with a heart not as easy to win as mine, he added for good measure.

Chapter 2

“Are you an angel?”

Mina grabbed the branch above to stabilize her perch atop the limbs of the large Chinese elm tree that held her, then peered down to catch a view of the voice’s owner. A little girl.

“I couldna say that I’ve ever been called that, sweeting.” Mina laughed, shifting her position so she could finish what she’d set out to do. Perhaps the kite that had tangled in the elm belonged to the lass. “But if I do enough good deeds while I’m on this earth,” Mina continued, freeing the obstinate tail at last, “then ye might call me that one day.”

The little girl’s eyes rounded and flashed like two amethysts dazzled by the sun. “I know a really good deed you can do.”

Was that a bruise beneath one of her eyes? Mina made her way down, moving one branch then another to see better. Why, the poor little thing sported a bruise as dark as coal pitch. “Do me a favor first,” Mina insisted, wanting to investigate the child’s injury further, “then I’ll be for granting any deed ye wish. Catch this kite so I can jump down, will ye now? No, come a wee bit closer. There now, lassie, that would be the spot. Ready. Set. Ahh, ’tis a good hand at catching ye have!”

Mina swung from the lowest branch and landed with only the slightest breach of poise. She quickly dusted off her clothes and thanked the lass for helping her.

The girl giggled. “Do all angels talk like you?”

Mina joined in her merriment. “Theirs would be a wee more refined than me own, but I’d like to think I could give the Lord a good laugh now and again, doncha know.”

The ebony curls that graced the sweet child’s head bobbed, making Mina even more aware of how the eye injury would soon match the shade of its owner’s hair. She gently reached out to touch the lass’s cheek and was warmed by the fact that the little girl did not move away and trusted her to add no further harm. “How did ye come by this?”

“Got into a fight.” The child’s lips lifted into a grin as she rocked back on her laced boots. “But I won.”

I just bet ye did. Mina admired the winner’s pluck as she quickly surveyed for further damage. Only a torn dress that was definitely not anyone’s hand-me-down. The garment showed no signs of long wear, so the assumption that the girl might be a street urchin instantly evaporated. “Are ye father and mother aware of these fisticuffs?”

“Daddy is.”

Mina’s attention averted to their surroundings and the people walking in and out of the shops along the roadway. None of them seemed concerned that this child was talking to an absolute stranger. “Is he nearby?”

“Huh-uh.” The girl looked away for a moment, then faced Mina again, her brow wrinkling. “Will you do that good deed you promised me now?”

Whatever concerned the child seemed terribly important. “Of course, lassie. Ye caught the kite for me ye did.”

“Will you come home with me?”

A twinge of longing swept through Mina so sharply that it nearly took her breath away. How long she had waited to hear those words? How often had she dreamed they would be offered in such kindness? Just as many times as there had been nights spent huddling behind tarps or hiding in secret nooks along the wharfs of St. Louis. The lass had no clue how deeply her request touched Mina. “What is yer name, sweeting?”

“Violet. Violet Duncan.”

Duncan? “Are you related to Briar Duncan, the station master?”

Violet nodded. “He’s my papa, but then you probably already knew that, being an angel and all.”

“Angel-in-training,” Mina corrected, not seeing any harm in going along with the child’s insistence for a moment. “Is yer father still at work or is he somewhere about?”

“He’s always working.”

The way the lass said “always” told Mina everything she needed to know. Her mother obviously did not care where the child played, not providing adequate supervision and allowing her to run the streets. Saints and begorra, what if someone with less moral decency had found her? She knew what it was like to be a child without the security of a parent or guardian. At least she knew where to take Violet, and once she did she would give the man a good tongue lashing. Employment be hanged. She would just have to find another way to pay back Nathaniel.

“Is that yer kite?”

Violet nodded. “You want it?”

Mina shook her head. “I will fix it for ye, then ’twill fly again, it will.”

The child handed the toy to Mina. “No, you keep it. I don’t need it no more.”

She accepted the offering, deciding Violet would change her mind once it was repaired. “Did ye walk here?”

Violet pointed to the approaching streetcar. “I rode that. Come on, it won’t cost no money. I get to ride free.”

But I canna, Mina worried silently as she grabbed her valise from the base of the tree where she’d set it. She would need to preserve the few coins she possessed until she found other employment, now that it was sure and certain Violet’s father would not be hiring her.

Much to Mina’s surprise she also rode for free. Violet seemed an apt manipulator of boosterism for Amarillo. The conductor agreed with the child’s reasoning that it made good sense to give a stranger a lift now and then just so the stranger could tell others about the pleasure of the ride.

“Whew! I thought we’d never get here.” Violet started running for the depot. “Daddy’s already turned up the gaslights.”

The child was not looking where she was going. Mina noticed a touring car coming at an incredible speed. Violet would not reach the platform in time. “Watch out, lass!” she yelled, dropping the valise and kite. She dashed after the child, grabbing Violet’s hand and jerking her backward to safety just as an obnoxious honk emanated from the passing motorized Flivver.

“Violet!” a masculine voice shouted. “Are you all right?”

The tiny heart beat fast against Mina’s hip, nearly drumming through the child’s back. Mina turned her around and surveyed her face. “Ye okay, lassie?”

“I’m a-all right, angel,” Violet finally managed and hugged Mina tightly.

“How can I thank you, ma’am?” asked the man who came running up to check on them. Mina looked up and stared into a familiar face. His eyes were a shade deeper than his daughter’s but the Duncans had the same lock of hair that curled just over the peak of their brow. The same full upper lip. The resemblance was unmistakable. Briar Duncan was the man in the window. Mina’s breath did not slow despite her effort to ease it.

The station master’s chest swelled as he tried to catch his own breath, making him seem even broader than earlier sight of him suggested. Anger and disappointment rose to battle with the attraction kindling inside Mina. How could such a fine-looking man be such a cur of a father? “Ye can thank me by not letting yer child walk the streets on her own. She could have been hurt.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said, though the friendliness in his gaze narrowed into purple slits that glinted like stone. “It’s almost dark and I should have had closer watch on her. Violet, thank Miss-?”

“McCoy. Mina McCoy.”

“Tell Miss McCoy how much you appreciate her help, and we’ll be on our way.”

“She’s coming home with us, Daddy.” Violet’s hold on Mina tightened. “She’s my angel and I found her. I’m gonna keep her.”

“I suppose I should be explaining.” Mina’s anger began to ease because of his obvious concern for his daughter.

“No need, Miss McCoy. I’m sure it has everything to do with the kite.”

Mina glanced back at the kite then up at the handsome man. Stop it, she told herself. He’s married and ye’ve no right to think him the devil’s own temptation. “The kite? How could you know-”

“Violet?” The station master gently reached for his daughter. “What are you up to? You know this lady can’t stay with you.”

Violet went willingly into her father’s arms. “Uh-huh, Daddy. She said she would.”

“I said I would take her home, and that I’ve now done, sir. Kite or no, my promised deed is finished.” Mina retrieved her bag and the toy, offering the latter to Violet. “I canna stay, lass, but I will come to see you now and again while I visit Amarillo…if yer father and mother are of a willing mind.”

“But you’re my angel. You’re supposed to stay with me.” Tears welled in Violet’s eyes as she refused to take the kite. “You’re supposed to stay here.”

“Don’t cry, honey.” Briar patted his daughter softly while she hid her face in his neck and began to weep.

When Mina gave him a puzzled expression, he sighed deeply. A sound filled with regret and something else. “Turn the kite over, Miss McCoy, and I’ll explain.”

Mina set down her valise and turned the kite as instructed. On the back of it, scrawled in childish letters were the words, “Come Home.”

“She lost her mother almost four years ago, and she’s flown that kite every day since. I told her that her mama went to be an angel in heaven.”

Mina’s heart clenched, feeling as if a hundred-pound weight had dropped upon it. Violet had known a mother who loved her once. The wee one had suffered a terrible loss. Mina could search the world over for her own mother and never experience the same hurt. Her mother had never wanted her. Mina’s voice became whisper-soft with compassion. “So she thinks she’s caught her angel?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Maybe refusing the job her friend had offered was no longer an option. It seemed everyone else on earth was trying to reform the injustices of the world at the moment. Maybe she could start on a smaller scale by reforming one father. Maybe being the little girl’s angel for a while was just the good deed she needed to do to set all their lives on a better course. “Well, I may not be the angel she bargained for, but I can stay. That is, if ye’ll give me the job Nathaniel promised.”

“Nathaniel?” Surprise registered across the man’s face. “You know Nathaniel?”

“Ye received his telegram, telling ye I was on me way?” She saw that he had even before he admitted it.

His gaze swept over her from head to hem, making him frown. “You don’t look like a governess.”

“A governess? ’Tis a telegrapher I am. Nathaniel said that I would be a replacement telegrapher until he returns. The man did me a favor once, and I came here to pay it back. I just arrived a day earlier than planned.”

“A telegrapher? You can’t-”

“I certainly can,” she argued, her fists balancing defiantly against her hips. “And quite good at it, I am.”

“I meant, the usual in-office housing accommodations won’t do. There’s only a cot separated by a silk screen and that affords little privacy if we have to keep the office open overnight. And we’ve done that more often than not lately.”

“There are worse places than a cot to rest, sir.”

Violet sniffled. “She could sleep in Nathaniel’s bed since he won’t be there, Daddy.”

“No, honey, she can’t.” Briar Duncan looked suddenly uncomfortable as he explained. “Nathaniel and I share a place close to the station since we work so much. Two bachelors, you know. Violet has her own room, of course, but Nat and I share the other. One of us is usually working when the other isn’t so that someone is able to watch over my daughter. He’s been gone for a while, and I’ve had my hands full with…That’s neither here nor there. I can’t see any logic in hiring you as a telegrapher, miss. There’d be too many complications.”

She should insist for Violet’s sake. It would be a way to spend some time with the lass, maybe even make sure her da did the same. But the truth was, she really needed the work. “Then I have no way to pay him back the favor.”

“Can’t you get employment somewhere else and do the same?”

“Most likely, but Nathaniel insisted that I help ye. By helping ye, he said it would be helping him.” ’Tis a clever man ye are, Nathaniel Rhodes. Always lending a hand to a friend in need. Looks to me like ye had three friends in mind, this time.

“Yeah, I’ll just bet it would.” Briar looked genuinely sorry. “I’ve got to say no to this scheme of his, Miss McCoy. I’m afraid you’ve traveled all this way for bad news.”

Mina picked up her valise. She couldn’t go back. She was nearly out of money and certainly out of ideas to go about getting more anytime soon. “I’ll be seeing what Amarillo has to offer, then. Maybe when he returns, I can finish the deed in some other way.” She patted Violet on the back. “I’ll see ye a time or two before I go, lassie.”

Violet’s sobs began in earnest.

Though the man attempted to calm his child, the lass refused to be appeased. Finally, he conceded to her anguish. “Maybe we should at least ask her to take supper with us, don’t you think?”

The sobs stopped as abruptly as they started.

Briar’s gaze met Mina’s. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for rescuing my daughter.”

Violet lifted her head from her father’s shoulder and pleaded, “Will you, angel? Even angels gotta eat, don’t they?”

Everything inside Mina warned that she should listen to the man’s wisdom and run as fast and as far away as she could, but the hunger of existing on very little suddenly voiced itself as a rumble in her stomach. The need to reform a parent and the beguiling voice that had been the first to ask her home joined forces, convincing her to accept the devil’s own temptation.

Chapter 3

Briar had never seen a woman eat so slowly in his entire life. It was as if she had never tasted roast beef and potatoes before. Not that he really minded. She was a sight worth studying. Just as he suspected in that short glimpse he’d had of her when she first exited the train, she was not a traditional beauty but rather a strange mixture of imperfections that made her striking in her own way. The sun-bronzed tone of her skin hinted that she seldom used a parasol. Still, she looked healthier than some of the women in the restaurant who appeared lily-white in the gaslights’s amber glow. Her nose was not the pert little stub and her mouth not the Cupid’s bow that he usually found appealing, but rather a length he could only describe as royal and a spanse of plentiful lips. Wisps of blond curls lacing her turban hinted that she probably could boast some Nordic heritage, despite her Irish brogue.

But it was her eyes that intrigued him most. Eyes that slanted slightly at the corners and looked the color of dew-moistened wheat. Eyes that stared at him directly now.

“Is something wrong?”

“Excuse me.” He grabbed his napkin and wiped his mouth. “I’m afraid I was staring. I’m sorry.”

She dabbed at her own lips. “Did I drop something on me?”

“He thinks you’re pretty,” Violet interrupted. “Me, too.”

The little imp. Just wait until he got her home. “I was wondering how an Irish woman happened to be blond and…What exactly do you call that color of eyes?” Briar refused to deny his attraction to her. She was beautiful.

“Me da said they be the color of honey, the first of the season fresh from the comb. Full of sting and sticker, they are.” She laughed until she snorted, then laughed even louder at the unladylike sound. When several heads turned to see what had caused the merriment, she did not seem to mind their attention. Instead she looked at them all squarely and added, “Ye’ll find that out soon enough about me, ’tis true.”

She didn’t have a shy bone in her entire body, it seemed. Certainly not the ideal woman to hire as governess, as he’d been mulling since he’d turned her down as possible telegrapher. Certainly not the kind of woman who would be a good example for Violet. “I’ve been thinking about your predicament, Miss McCoy.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve decided that we should refund the money you spent coming to Amarillo. I’ll drop by the bank in the morning, then I can meet you at your hotel.” When she paled at the suggestion, Briar reminded himself that she might think them too newly acquainted to allow him to call upon her in a less public atmosphere. “Or if you prefer, I’ll have the money or a ticket waiting for you at the station.”

She shook her head. “That willna be necessary, Mr. Duncan. I plan on staying in Amarillo, just as I said, until Nathaniel returns.”

“If that’s your choice.” He nodded toward a table filled with rough-looking men. “It might be hard to find employment, though. There are adventurers of every kind in town lately, trying to earn their keep until war either breaks out with Pancho Villa or President Wilson goes ahead and gets us into the Great War. It’s lucky that you found a hotel room.”

“The luck I have today, sir, is enjoying this fine meal and the even finer companions to share it with.” She smiled down at Violet, then hastily took another bite.

Without thinking, he reached out to halt her hand. “You mean, you don’t have a room yet?”

Her gaze met his and locked, her mouth stopping in mid-chew. He thought he felt her tremble just before she slowly set the fork down and grabbed her goblet. She took a long drink, as if she had been banished for days in the drought-driven plains and could only now quench her thirst.

Those glorious lips of hers shifted into a grin. “’Tis confused I am how to answer ye, Mr. Duncan. Do I say, ‘Aye, ’tis what I mean, or nay, I have no room.’”

“Briar,” he insisted, wanting to watch her lips form his given name, wondering how the Irish lilt would sound in a feverish whisper of passion. Blazes, now he felt parched.

“Well, then, Briar…’Tis a strange name, that. Did ye mum and da suspect ye’d be a troublesome lad?”

She was avoiding an answer. “Long story I’ll tell you when we have more time.” He set down his own goblet. “Right now, I need to hunt you up a place to stay. That won’t be easy this time of evening. I don’t suppose you noticed that sign when we passed the billiard hall, did you?”

She forked the last piece of beef and sopped it in the gravy. “Ye mean the one that said they were renting beds in eight-hour shifts? I appreciate the thought, but ’twould be mighty hard on a body’s back I’m thinking.” She winked at Violet. “I’ll not be needing a cue to make me look elsewhere.” She chewed the beef with a flourish, staring at him as if waiting for him to object.

Briar reviewed what she said then began to chuckle. She was waiting to see if his wit was as sharp as her own.

Puzzlement etched Violet’s brow. “I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

Their guest nearly spit her food out as she struggled not to laugh, but the effort elicited a bigger snort. Now all three joined in the merriment. Everyone around them looked on as if she’d lost her mind as well as her taste in clothing.

“I don’t know when I’ve had such a good meal,” Briar admitted, finally yielding to some semblance of control. “Or laughed so hard.”

“Since Mama went to heaven,” Violet announced, abruptly causing them all to sober. “It’s true.” She attempted to soften the blow of her words. “You ain’t laughed since I can ’member.”

Briar thought back over the past few years and realized the truth of his daughter’s words. Though Violet was exaggerating the length of time, he didn’t laugh much anymore. He missed it and, more important, how it made him feel when Violet laughed with him. “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I’ll try to do that more often.”

“Maybe I can help.” Their guest scooted her plate away, its empty surface a testament to the restaurant’s fine reputation. “I’ve been thinking about what ye said earlier, Mr. Duncan. If ’tis a governess ye need, then ’tis a governess I’ll be till Nathaniel returns. If ’tis transcribing messages ye want, then I’ll be for doing that as well. Ye’ll find me a good hand on the wire, and I would love to spend some time with Violet.”

She yawned, a sound too indelicate to be anything but a combination of a full belly and sheer exhaustion. “I’ve no mind where I sleep, long as it offers a place to lay me head and a warm cover should the weather turn cold. Which I understand is doubtful, considering Nathaniel said the plains have seen their worst drought in years.” She yawned again. “That cot is surely calling to me now.”

He’d prayed for an answer to his problem. Now one had presented itself. Damn Nathaniel for not coming home. But what could he do? If the billiard hall was using its tables to sleep people, then there obviously were no rooms to be found anywhere. He couldn’t leave the woman out on the streets, and he couldn’t leave her alone unattended at the office. Rail crews were rough men. An unchaperoned woman in their midst would only stir up trouble. Still, he needed help. Maybe if she could relieve him for part of the day.

“I’ll tell you what…I’ll leave you and Violet here to have dessert and get to know one another a little better while I run over to the filling station and use the phone. I’ll call around and see if I can find you more comfortable accommodations than the cot.”

“I have the job then?”

“Most likely. But I’d like to reserve final agreement until you answer a few questions about your qualifications. Those questions can wait until I secure you a room somewhere.”

A half hour and a handful of phone calls later, Briar returned to find Mina sitting alone. “Where’s Violet?” He searched the room for sign of her and glanced at the batwing doors that divided the dining room from the restaurant’s kitchen. “She’s not in the back bothering the cook again, is she?”

If the woman couldn’t control the imp long enough to keep her seated at the table, perhaps taking her on for hire was not such a good idea.

Mina pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed downward.

Briar stepped closer and leaned to see his child stretched across her chair, her head leaning in the woman’s lap. “Asleep?”

“Right after ye left. The lass can sleep through a stampede, it seems.”

“I’ll take her.”

“No, I ordered ye a pie,” she whispered, “and asked them to keep it hot till ye returned. No use wasting good food or hard-earned money.”

No sooner than Mina informed him, the waitress bought Briar the pie. He thanked her and decided that tonight he would give a slightly bigger tip than usual for the extra service.

Mina looked at him expectantly and he realized she was waiting for him to take a bite. He had been the commander of his own eating habits for almost four years now and he found her insistence both warming and irritating. Warming, because it felt good again to have someone care that he ate. Irritating, because that same care reminded him of the loneliness of his life.

He pushed the plate away. Better to get down to business and put their relationship into its proper prospective. “I need to open the station in the morning, Miss McCoy, sell tickets and do my daily rounds with the rest of the crew. I’ve decided to hire a man to watch the ’graph on the nights we need one, if you’ll listen in the afternoons. That would give you the morning with Violet, and she can take an afternoon nap on the cot while you work. Lord knows she’s slept through it a hundred times. The afternoon will let me finish the daily books and whatever else I didn’t get done earlier. Just decide which one or two afternoons you’d like off and that will be fine. Is that satisfactory to you?”

“When will you spend time with her?” The honey-colored eyes took on their sting.

Briar would have told her the matter was not open for discussion, but he supposed he was now making it the woman’s concern. He thought about his schedule then decided he might as well give himself a little added incentive. After all, he had thoroughly enjoyed supper. “I’ll share the noon meal with you both, then after her nap, I’ll make sure she and I do something together.” He looked at his daughter and realized just how many months it had been since he could remember doing anything special other than share a meal or go to church with her. Months must seem like years to a child so young.

“Like we used to, Daddy? You didn’t forget how?” Violet sat up, her uninjured eye suddenly wide awake with expectation.

Had she just been pretending? “I haven’t forgotten, pumpkin,” Briar reassured her. Shame for his own actions of late made him stand and quickly pull the funds for their dinner from his pocket and place them on the table. The need to hold his daughter compelled him to take her up in his arms. The woman was right. He should be more attentive to Violet. He should have hired a temporary man when Nathaniel first left so that he could spend time with her. He should have been a better father in a hundred different ways. And he would be, beginning now. Tonight. “You ready to go home and rest those pretty eyes so they’ll be ready for church in the morning?”

“Can my angel go with us?” She nodded, sighing softly against his shoulder.

He looked at Mina. “Most likeliest place to let a new angel in town get to know people, don’t you think?”

She giggled and her head nestled into the crook of his neck. “I’ll show her to the Corbetts and the McCords and, oh yeah, to Mr. and Mrs. Harris. Daddy says Mrs. Harris used to own the gun shop, but she ain’t no devil. She’s a real nice lady. Her boys run the shop now. I don’t see them much ’cept at church. They’re old like Daddy.”

Mina took coins from her pocket and placed them by her plate. She laughed. “Just how old is yer da?”

Before the tattler could answer, Briar reached over and scooted the coins back to Mina. “Older than Exodus. Now keep your money. Supper’s my treat, remember.”

“Twenty-seven.” Violet giggled, then squealed when her father poked her gently in the ribs and began to tickle her.

“Cowboy counsel, gabby-girl, remember?” It felt good to hear her sweet giggles against his throat as she tucked her head and moored herself against him. “Especially with family secrets.”

“Cowboy counsel?” Mina asked. “’Tis an Amarillo saying, I’m thinking.”

“A Texas saying, ma’am,” Briar announced in his best Lone Star drawl. “Which means that you don’t run off at the mouth about things that should be kept private.”

“Angel says she’s twenty-three,” Violet interjected, then cupped her mouth. “Uh-oh, Daddy, it ran off all by itself.”

“Violet!” Briar and Mina objected in unison.

“Well,” she defended, spreading her fingers just enough to let through her explanation, “It just came right out and I was too tired to stop it.”

“God help us both.” Briar made a visual pact with Mina as he offered his free arm to escort her out of the restaurant. “We’re going to need Him.”

Chapter 4

They walked only a few streets before opening a gate to a yard that housed a handsome wood cottage painted the color of her ancestral homeland and trimmed with white gingerbread molding. Was this the Duncan home? “Ye’re not thinking of putting her to bed and leaving her alone while ye escort me to the station, are ye?”

“No, ma’am. I’m not. You’ll both be staying.”

Her fingers unlocked from around the muscular band of his forearm and she backed away. No matter what employment he offered, she could not sleep under his roof with him. Though she had never worn a heavy cloak of propriety about her shoulders, she tried to maintain a thread of decency. “I’ll not be obliged to sleep in yer home, sir. ’Tisn’t fitting.”

“It wouldn’t be if I were going to be sleeping there with you.” Though his voice reassured, the deep timbre of it enticed with the playfulness of their earlier banter. His eyes darkened to moonlit globes framed in lashes of ebony. “I’m loaning you my bed.”

Mina’s heart altered its beat, as if it were a tossed stone skipping along the surface of a pond. A warm bed where she would be safe from her troubles was what she had hoped for so long that now, when offered, it seemed more dream than reality. But sleeping in a place that would be filled with the sights and scent peculiar to this man seemed more dangerous than any of those nights spent hiding under tarps on the wharfs of St. Louis. He’d captured her interest with that first look they’d shared when she disembarked. The allure only deepened the more they had talked…when he touched her hand at supper. She must remember her anger with him concerning his daughter’s welfare, lest she be swayed by his charm.

Despite the voice of reason stirring her thoughts, her feet moved forward as if they had a will of their own.

He accepted her hand again and guided her to the porch. “Bunking in at the office and letting you and Violet sleep here really is the logical thing for me to do, Miss McCoy. It’s getting late, so I’ll need to situate Violet for the night. After I remove a few of my things we’ll have our discussion, then I’ll be off to the station. No one will find fault with those arrangements.”

Our discussion? She reviewed their talk at supper and realized he meant to interview her about her qualifications for employment. She was tired, and it had been a long journey. But she must remain alert. She would tell him just enough to satisfy his curiosity and nothing else. “Very well, then. If ye’re certain ’tis no trouble to ye.”

“I’ve practically been there every night this last month. One more won’t make a difference.”

“Ye’ve left that wee lass alone in the house?”

“Let’s get out of the night air, shall we?” He opened one of the two front doors that graced the cottage’s facade. “And yes, I suppose I did. But I checked on her hourly to make sure she didn’t need me.”

“’Tis a good thing ye live so close to ye work. Not that ye have to worry about strangers getting off the train and needing a warm place to stay.”

“Touché, Miss McCoy.”

He left her standing in the parlor of his home while he disappeared behind a dark-wooded door that shone like a freshly washed apple at the back of the room. She set her valise down by the armchair made of the same wood and a red velvet backrest and cushion. Side tables held kerosene lamps designed in floral bouquets. Someone had lit one of them, offering a warm welcome to those who entered. Had Briar stopped by while he was gone to make the phone calls?

She noted another lamp hanging in the center of the ceiling, its mother-of-pearl base and crystal chandelier shade not quite as fancy as those she’d seen back east. Before she could notice further details of the room, Briar returned and waved her to the chair. “Please take a seat, Miss McCoy.”

“Yer home is lovely.”

He glanced about as he sat opposite her on a davenport of a similar design as the chair. “It’s one of the kit houses brought in from Sears, Roebuck. The family who ordered it pulled up stakes, so I was able to get it for less than the usual cost. I’m no carpenter by any means, but Nathaniel and I had a cussing good time putting it together.”

Naturally curious, she wanted to know more of what made his eyes spark with such a happy memory, but he steered the conversation back to the business at hand. At least he seemed capable of providing for his daughter, and quite well from the look of it.

“I thought we could start things off while Violet dresses herself for bed.” He lifted a palm. “Now don’t object…she won’t let me help her. Has something to do with her latest ‘suffer-gette’ doings.”

Mina smiled despite her initial reaction. Violet would be the sort to latch onto the craze that had menfolk drinking deep in their cups. The lass would be more than a handful once she took on her full petticoats. “So, ’tis yer questions I’ll be hearing now.”

“First, how do you know Nathaniel?”

A safe enough subject if she handled it just right. She noticed the Shoninger desk organ and wondered if he or Violet played the instrument. Her fingers rubbed together in anticipation of teaching the lass a few tunes. Playing a lively jig was the one true teaching her da had passed down to her before throwing her into the streets.

She looked Briar straight in the eye, a practice she found helped to convince people of her sincerity. “I knew him when he lived in St. Louis years ago. He was acquainted with me father.” She made sure she didn’t say friend to her da, so it would not be a lie. Seamus McCoy had few friends and Nathaniel was not among them. “He managed to get me a badly needed job. I told him I would pay him back one day for the favor.”

Lines creased Briar’s brow. “That had to be ten or more years ago. He’s lived here for more than eight.”

“Nine would be the whole of it.”

“You worked at fourteen?”

“Lots of people work at that age.” Her chin rose at the criticism.

“They do.” He looked apologetic for having offended her.

He couldn’t know he had touched on an embarrassing aspect of her life. She kept the reason she had been forced to take the employment secret from anyone who didn’t have to know. What had he called it…cowboy counsel? “And for that reason, ’tis here I am. To pay him back.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience working.”

She shifted in the chair, feeling as if she were losing ground instead of gaining a firm foothold. “More than I care to admit.”

“May I be blunt?”

His eyes had a way of looking at her so deeply that she could feel their searching as if it were a tangible touch that left smoke drifting in its wake. Like a blaze whose heat simmered long after the burn. “I prefer that ye speak yer mind,” she whispered, feeling vulnerable and unable to hide the breathy rush of her voice. “Ye can be certain, I will.”

“I need to know any reason you wouldn’t be a proper teacher to my daughter.”

Mina stood abruptly. “If ye mean to ask if I ever worked in an improper place, then ye can rest assure I have not.”

Genuine regret filled his face. “I’m sorry, Miss McCoy, if I’ve spoken out of turn. My daughter’s upbringing, no matter what it may seem, is of the utmost importance to me. I’m very careful of the women who come into her life because she is a motherless child. As you can tell, she’s eager to attach herself.”

“That I can understand.” And she could, better than he would ever suspect. “So, have there been many? Women, I mean? Since her mother’s passing?” The fact that other women may have been close to the Duncans bothered Mina, more than she wanted to admit.

“I’ve tried several governesses. Let’s just say, none seemed up to the challenge.”

Mina was relieved to find her good humor again. “The lass has a crafty wit about her, even at this wee age.”

“I thought we were going to be blunt.” He laughed, a sound filled with both exasperation and pride. “She’s the devil’s own taskmistress at times.”

“I knew that from the moment I met her, but ’tis no deed yer lass has done that I have not stumbled over meself.”

“Good then, you feel up to the task?”

“Aye, and qualified to see her come out the better for it, I am. I worked four long years in Mrs. Higginbotham’s Lady’s School. I know all the refinements she’ll be needing and have taught them a time or two to others. There is, to me regret, the matter of diction. Though it doesna transfer across the wire as brogue, I’m not prepared to teach the lass proper English.”

“No need to concern yourself there. School will start back soon. It was canceled so families could work their ranches to stave off the drought. But if the weather doesn’t let up soon, there won’t be much to save and no reason to keep the children out of school. She’s taught diction there.”

“Am I to cook for her, then? See to her washing and such?”

Briar moved to the two brocade drapes that curtained off what must be another room. “The kitchen’s here. If you like to cook, I’d appreciate the help. If you don’t, then leave it to me. I’m more concerned with teaching her good manners and”-his gaze swept Mina-“appropriate fashion.”

Traditional, Mina decided, silently latching onto a seed for change she must plant in the man’s thinking. If she was expected to teach Violet how to conduct herself in the ways of the elite, then she must teach him to be more progressive. At least he had vinegar enough to know he needed help in the matter. “These are the latest from Paris, Mr. Duncan.” She tugged on her pants. “Mark me words, Mademoiselle Chanel’s fashions will soon fill ladies’ wardrobes everywhere in America. While ye men wage yer battles these days, ’tis freedom of movement we women are fighting for.”

Violet chose that moment to peek around the door. “I’m ready for you to tuck me in now.”

“Want to help?” Briar motioned Mina ahead of him.

Mina remained still just long enough to let him lead. She was pleased to be included in the obvious nightly ritual. She’d been certain he would argue with her about her clothing choices, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d let her comment pass. Perhaps he was just too tired to challenge her views.

Something about the way Violet’s hand went trustingly into her father’s and led him down the brief hallway warmed Mina’s heart. She’d been too harsh in her thoughts of Briar Duncan. He might be guilty of neglect. He might even be guilty of too traditional a view in his raising of his daughter, but it was clear he loved the lass dearly. There would never be a lifelong abandonment as her own parents had done.

Mina watched as father and daughter entered a room and knelt beside a four-poster bed whose plush lavender-colored quilt had been turned down. Hand-painted clouds drifted along the sky-colored ceiling, offering a billowy white pathway to the kite that flew among them. Though the room boasted only a rocking chair, night table, armoire, and lamp, it looked like a princess’s palace to Mina. Aye, this father dearly loved his daughter. Or, at least, he made a good show of it when no one was looking.

In unison, Briar and Violet cupped their palms in prayer.

“Dear God,” Violet began as Mina knelt at the end of the bed. “Bless everybody we love and help everyone be good to each other. Oh…and don’t let Jim Corbett get in too much trouble with his Pa ’cause I whipped him. He can’t help it if he’s dumber than-”

“Violet.” Briar opened one eye to look sternly at his daughter.

“Well, okay.” She peeked at him with her good eye, then shut it tightly. “I guess You might want to spend some more time on Jim, God. He needs lots of help. Oh yeah, best of all, thank You for sending me my angel.” She blew out a long sigh of relief. “I guess You was too busy to hear the part about hurrying up and send her. Amen.”

Briar leaned over and kissed the top of Violet’s head. “Climb in there before you get yourself in trouble.”

Violet leapt into the bed and pulled up the covers. She waited till her father tucked in the quilt and kissed her once more before she held her arms out toward Mina. “You gonna kiss me too, angel?”

“Wouldna miss it for the world.” Mina swept past Briar to press her lips against the cherubic cheek. “Now sleep, lass, we’ve got lots to do tomorrow.”

“Okay, but angel…” She wiggled one finger so Mina would move closer.

“Mina. Call me Mina.”

“You don’t have to teach me nothing, Mina,” she whispered. “I already love you.”

“I already love ye, too, lass,” she whispered back, both surprised and pleased that she meant it. “Now rest that sore eye so it can heal.”

Chapter 5

Briar lay on his back, staring out at the moon that rose over the high plains of Texas. The windows lining the eastern wall of the depot’s lobby gave an expansive view of the night sky blanketing Amarillo-a view that he needed to mull the choice he’d made today. The telegraph office had felt too confining, limiting his ability to think. He had tried stretching across one of the passenger benches, but his legs extended too far over the side and the seats were just narrow enough that he couldn’t curl up comfortably. There was nothing else to do but move his bed out here and set it up near the window. He shifted on the cot, threading his arms behind his head. The curious restlessness he had managed to hold at bay seemed to intensify while he waited for sleep.

Today had been eventful, to say the least. He’d never expected the strangely dressed woman to enter his own life. He’d surely never meant to allow her to take charge of Violet. Perhaps tomorrow would bring wiser thoughts. But as dinner had worn on, she’d looked increasingly tired and probably needed sleep more than he needed to determine the level of her qualifications.

Mina McCoy’s presence had filled the restaurant with a spirit he found intriguing and a concern for his daughter that he could only admire-two very becoming qualities that lured his mind away from the duties at hand and made him acutely aware of her as a woman. The sight of rambunctious little Violet nestled deeply in her lap, the smile of peace written across that cherubic face, had sealed the bargain in his heart, much less his mind. He marveled that his daughter had so easily come to trust the woman, since she gave few people that honor. Despite his interest in his new employee, he felt a twinge of something he could only define as envy. He doubted that Violet trusted him so openly.

And why should she? He’d been caught up passing off his own grief as a need to make her a living and give her everything he could. But he hadn’t given her the one thing she wanted most. The one thing she needed. Unstipulated love.

Oh sure, he’d made a good show of doing his duty. But the love he’d offered her always became a bargain between them-a quick fix to any time-consuming situation that arose. You do this, Violet, and I’ll do that. Yet, real love had been buried along with Katie Rose. Love offered without expecting something back. Love given without consideration of one’s own needs. Love offered without restraint. Miss McCoy was right. He had neglected Violet for far too long.

Briar bolted to his feet, needing a breath of fresh air. He threw on a shirt and boots then hurried outside, not taking the time to grab the rest of his uniform. Lantern light down the tracks reminded him that the porter was out checking the roundhouse and making sure the Eclipse was in good working condition for tomorrow. Though the windmill that pulled water to fill the steam locomotives had survived hundreds of wind-storms, it was a contrary contraption at best, needing careful maintenance and plenty of patience. Nathaniel seemed the only man who could square off with the twenty-two-foot mechanical rogue and win.

Its wooden blades had taken on speed since Briar went to bed, indicating a good wind was gusting in from the southwest. The breeze would cool the yards and help the cattle waiting for transport to the Kansas City packing houses to settle down for the night. Maybe now would be a good time to check in on Violet and open her bedroom window to let in a breeze.

He made his way home, thinking of ways he could improve his schedule to allow him more time with her. Tomorrow, he could…Hell, it was already tomorrow. He’d have to do some quick thinking on how to make this the best Sunday he’d spent with her in a long time. Maybe there would still be a surrey available at the livery. If many of the newcomers in town were church-going people, he might have difficulty securing a ride and they’d have to walk. Not that he minded but the wind would wreak havoc on Violet’s curls. A shame the streetcars didn’t run on Sunday.

“Evenin’, Mr. Duncan.”

Deep in thought, Briar hadn’t noticed the constable leaning against the corner of the millinery shop. He started to tip his hat at the policeman then realized he’d left it hung on a peg along with his coat. “Officer Goodnight,” he acknowledged. “Everything quiet?”

“’Cept the wind. It’s stirring up a few tumbleweeds. Forget something over at the station?”

Briar remembered his state of undress and began fastening the shirt he’d left unbuttoned. “No, just checking on my youngun’.”

The policeman tapped his nightstick against the brim of his cap and started to move off. “Working day and night’s no kind of life to lead, Duncan. Take it from someone who seen life at its best and worst. No amount of money’s worth burning the fuse at both ends. Pretty soon it’ll blow up in your face.” He chuckled all of a sudden. “Kiss that little whirlwind of yours for me while you’re at it.”

“Will do, Officer Goodnight.”

“Might as well call me Billy. Your daughter does.”

That precocious child of his had obviously wormed her way into the constable’s good favor. To make quick work of his intentions, Briar decided to go through the alleys. He lengthened his strides past two alleys before rounding the corner to his backyard. There, in the moonlight near the tree that shaded the small garden he’d tried vainly to save, stood Mina.

Hair the color of sunlit plains dipped to the nape of her neck. The angle of her arms as she braced herself against the tree defined the silken slenderness of a woman who valued physical activity. Moonlight shone on the lower half of her face, leaving her eyes in shadow. Yet he witnessed the moment she felt his gaze upon her, sensed that he was watching her.

He wondered if he should turn away, pretend that she was mistaken in believing that he studied her. But just as it had been when she’d stepped off the train, the sight of Mina was far too compelling to look away. The nightdress she wore left little to his imagination, the wind buffeting the cream-colored linen against the curve of hips and generous swell of breasts that her pants and tunic had hidden so well. She looked like a ray of dawn shining through the darkness of the night.

“Is that ye?”

Her whisper beckoned him closer and he could do nothing but answer it with one of his own. “Do you need me?”

Her quick intake of breath unnerved him, its intensity urging him to close the remaining distance between them and satisfy the craving to taste her lips. Blazes! Where had that come from, he wondered, passing it off as nothing more than the long drought he’d suffered in satisfying his body with the softness of a woman’s. But this was more than that. He’d known it from the first time he saw her. Sensed it was different than anything he’d ever felt before…even with Katie Rose. Briar knew if he took one step closer, he would be lost in the spell the night had woven, in the sound of the wafting wind, in the glow of moonlight and the shadows that promised to hide all longings. The compelling presence of this woman drew him as if she were rain needed to parch the desolation of his long forgotten dreams.

She started back toward the house. Briar hurried to fall into step beside her, afraid she would go in, yet praying that she would so that this hunger growing within him would not reveal itself. He would surely frighten her. It sure as sin scared the hell out of him. “You’ve been crying.” He reached out to touch her. “Let me help.”

Briar didn’t know what to offer, what more to say. She suddenly buried her face in his chest, anchoring her arms around his shoulders, holding on as if he were a lifeline.

“Just hold me,” she whispered, molding against him.

Briar’s body hardened as if bracing for the blast of a furnace. Her touch stirred sensations in him that were almost too overwhelming to contain. His knees threatened to buckle. “I need to take you inside.”

“Aye,” she breathed.

One hand locked beneath her arm, while the other lifted her into his embrace. Her breath fanned his neck with its ebb and flow while the scent of something floral drifted from her hair. She’d obviously borrowed some of Violet’s lavender soap. The image of her bathing in their tub coursed blood to every part of him.

Sanity intruded, reminding him that he’d known her less than a day and he wasn’t the kind of man who took advantage of a woman’s vulnerability. Thankfully, she had left the door ajar. He nudged it open, searched the dark for one of the kitchen chairs, then sat. Mina continued to cry softly against him, her tears feeling like dew upon his chest.

Finally, she stopped and unlinked her arms from around his neck. Her body jutted backward as she silently insisted upon standing. He gently released her. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”

She stared at her bare feet, then back up at him in that disconcerting way she had of looking at him. “’Tis cry I do, when happiness fills me.”

“Happiness?” If he lived to be a hundred years old, he’d never understand women. “You were crying because you’re happy?”

She nodded and twirled around, opening her palms. “I have a job, a wee lass to take care of, and now this. A roof…walls…a home…if only for a while. A home has got to be the best place on earth, wouldn’t ye agree?”

“Are you homeless, Miss McCoy?” Briar finally asked the one question he’d not quite found the nerve to bring up in their earlier conversations.

“Mina,” she reminded. “Aye, that I am, sir. Does that make a difference to ye now? I would think ye’d expect anyone who hired on in such a capacity to be unattached to a dwelling.”

“It makes no difference to me, Mina,” he assured her, though his mind was now made up about something else. He would not spend any more time looking for her a room. She would live in his home until Nathaniel returned.

Nathaniel had telegraphed that he would be home tomorrow, but he often didn’t keep his word. And for the first time in months, he hoped Nathaniel didn’t hurry back.

Chapter 6

The scent of fresh, clean linen and the sound of a soft sigh woke Mina. The feel of the strong arms in her dream drifted away as if it were smoke carried on the wind. She wanted to chase after it, catch it, hold it to her as she did the keepsakes she often found along the roadway, but sleep spirited the treasure away into the saffron glow of dawn.

The reality of a tinier, softer body nestling against Mina quelled the disturbing thoughts of just whose arms she’d been dreaming. She would leave that mulling for later, when she was alone.

’Tis not alone I am. The words sank in, filling her with a joy that warmed the tips of her toes and stretched her lips into a grin. She had slept in a comfortable bed, in a real home, and with no concern whatsoever to danger. Best of all, there was someone to wake up to. There could be no finer morning than this.

Sometime during the night Violet had climbed under the covers alongside her. The sigh that Mina had thought was her own came from the child curled against her. She gently pressed a kiss atop the tiny head.

“Am I awake, angel?” whispered Violet.

“Not quite, lass.” Mina raised the lass’s chin to study her face. That poor little eye barely peeped open amid its circular bruise. “But ye’re working on it, ’tis certain.”

“I just might have some trouble doing it right this morning.” Violet snuggled deeper into the covers.

“And I think ye will not.” Mina threw back the quilt and tickled the child until Violet erupted into a fit of giggles. “Because I plan to help ye wake up. We have things to do, people to meet, and places to go. What do ye say to getting dressed and having some breakfast?”

“I can help cook. Daddy lets me sometimes.” Violet unfurled and stood. “I’m pretty good at biscuits.”

“I just bet ye are.” Images of the possible volatile combination of Violet, lard, and flour propelled Mina to stand, though she wished nothing more than to linger in the comfort of the bed. She needed to dress and arrive in the kitchen way ahead of little Miss Helper. “Do ye know what ye want to wear to church,” she urged, “or am I to make the choice for ye?”

“You mean you’re gonna let me choose?” Excitement filled Violet’s tone as she rushed from the room.

“Ye’re the one wearing the clothes, are ye not?” After all, her father had allowed her to dress herself for bed. Mina followed to make sure Violet did not venture toward the kitchen first.

“I sure am. I knew an angel would understand.” Violet disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door.

The child was up to something. Mina needed no celestial wisdom to understand that much.

An hour and a half later, she was wishing for some heavenly intervention. But, of its own volition, her head kept turning to view Briar sitting beside her in the pew. Light shining through the stained glass windows made her aware of how he filled the church with his presence. The pews were packed, causing everyone to squeeze in closer to allow for the influx of visitors. His shoulders and thighs touched hers, making it difficult for Mina to concentrate, much less listen to the sermon. He seemed to sense the exact moments she could not resist the impulse to look at him, his eyes mesmerizing her with their intensity as they turned to share those glances with her.

Allowing Violet to choose her own church clothes was the first transgression she’d made this morning. But now it seemed she’d made yet another. A congregant with a broach-studded hat kept openly glaring at Mina. She most likely would not have noticed the woman’s glare, but the lady had no eyebrows. Had they been burned off and never grown back? Twin broaches amid a spray of silk chiffon garnished the hat’s brim, looking like pearl-studded substitutes for the missing brows.

Mina wondered if she had committed some unknown sin that would cause the woman to want to exorcise her from the sanctuary.

Mina didn’t plan on staying in Amarillo long enough to let anyone, much less High-Brow, intimidate her, for whatever reason. So when the woman thrust her double chins upward and looked disapprovingly at Mina again, Mina just smiled in return. It was far from the first time she’d been looked upon with disapproval. It certainly wouldn’t be the last time. Wonder what would happen if she informed everyone that the woman had obviously used some of that new French Harmless Hair Wave to curl and color her hair? The price paid for such a bougainvillea-colored nest of curls would feed an overcrowded orphanage for six months or more. Could anything she have committed be worse than spending more than a thousand dollars on a permanent wave? High-Brow best loosen her curls a wee bit, if she knew what was good for her.

Finally, the service ended. With relief Mina stood, glad to put distance between herself and Briar. Waking up in his room and knowing he usually slept in the bed she’d found so appealing had been difficult enough to forget. Remembering how it felt in his arms last night and touching his thigh during the service had only kindled the fire of attraction that skittered along her senses like she was taking on a second skin. Mina gently reached for Violet’s hand, but the lass pulled away instantly and tugged on her father’s pant leg.

“Daddy, can we go now, please? I really need to go. Now.”

“Hold your britches, pumpkin,” he announced then shot Mina a stern expression. “Seems kind of appropriate, doesn’t it, Miss McCoy?”

Mina shrugged, glad she’d chosen to wear her riding skirt rather than her trousers. “’Tis sorry I am, if I may say it again. She wanted to dress herself and ye let her do so for bed. I saw no wrong in allowing Violet to do the same a second time.”

Briar took his daughter’s hand. “I can’t blame you too much, I suppose, when it’s my own fault that I indulge her. If it hadn’t taken so long waiting for the surrey, I could have picked you up sooner and given her time to change.”

“The britches will go back in the drawer…unless ye say they can come out again. True, lass?”

“Okay,” she said too agreeably, “but can we go now?”

“We will after Mina has a chance to meet some of our friends.” Briar watched the other children gathering with the McCord family. All of the children appeared more jubilant than usual. “Today is the hayride out to the breaks, isn’t it?” His brow furrowed. “I didn’t remember that when I made plans for us this morning.”

“Can I go, Daddy, please? You said I could last week and everybody’s going.”

She rattled off some of the ragtime language Mina had heard back East, and one of the boys answered back. Mina shook her finger at the pair of them. “Ye’ll be wanting to make sure none of them tadpoles swim in the punch, me precious darlings, or ye’ll be too sore to sit yer bottoms to a pew next Sunday.”

Briar glanced from his daughter to Mina. “You know what they’re saying?”

“’Tis jive or rag talk and little else. Have ye no ear for it here in Texas?”

“Apparently some of us Texans do.” Briar frowned at his daughter. “What’s this about tadpoles in the punch?”

“It wasn’t gonna be me, Daddy, I promise. I knew about it, but I wasn’t gonna do it this time.”

“Have you considered it before? No, don’t answer that. I don’t really want to know.” He shot Mina a look of gratitude. “It’s a good thing you know jive or jag or rag or whatever it is she called it.”

“I know seven other languages as well, and a few twists of the English version, I assure ye.”

Surprise etched Briar’s expression. “You’ll have to tell me how you came about developing that talent, Miss McCoy, but for now I guess I better decide whether or not I’m going to let her go with the others. What do you think?”

She couldn’t deny the lass a chance to be with other children and have fun, even if it meant putting off time spent between Violet and her father. “I say a hayride might be just the thing to practice her social skills.”

“Well, her clothes fit the purpose, don’t they? Can’t say the choice had anything to do with remembering the hayride, though, can we?”

“No, sir,” Violet admitted. “But I promise I’ll wear a dress next time.”

He ruffled his daughter’s hair. “All right, you can go, but only if you follow the McCords’s instructions to the letter and stay in eyesight of an adult. Remember what almost happened yesterday with that car. And I better not hear you gave anyone-boy, girl, or adult-any trouble.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Am I to go along with her?” Mina started to nudge past him.

“No, there will be plenty of chaperones. They’ve had this planned for weeks. So it seems you’ve been given a reprieve. Maybe there’s something you would like to do, some place you’d like to visit in town while you have some time to yourself?”

His gaze averted to those leaving the sanctuary and she wondered if he wanted to go with his daughter and felt an obligation to entertain her as his guest. Well she wasn’t his guest. She was his employee. “I can find something to do on my own.”

“That won’t be necessary, unless you just prefer being alone.”

Alone was the last thing she wanted to be again. She’d had enough of “alone” for a lifetime. “What will ye do until she returns?” Mina asked, not wanting him to see how much his company had already come to mean to her.

“I usually take part of Sunday morning off so we can go to church, but today I asked Sam-you’ll get to know him soon-to stay a little longer than usual so I could show you some of the town. I’ve got the rig until noon if you’d like me to take you somewhere particular.”

Before she could answer, the woman with the pearl-studded brows and double chins waddled up beside him. “Good morning, Mr. Duncan. I assume this is Violet’s new governess. I’d like to talk to you about what your daughter did yesterday.”

“Gotta go. See ya.” Violet rushed to join the others.

So, ’twas the lass and not meself ye were oogling all sermon, Mina decided once she heard the reprimand in the woman’s tone. Mina glanced at Violet who now blatantly peeped from behind one of the pews to see what transpired between the congregant and her father. Innocence did not play well upon the child’s features this morning.

Nonetheless, whatever the blessed lass had done to irk the woman, it served her no purpose to attack Violet full brow. Best loosen those clips, High-Brow, Mina warned silently as she abruptly faced the woman once again, or those pearl studs will be plowing new paths in those wavy, red roots. “Aye, that I am her new governess, madam. And I can assure ye Violet will be no trouble to ye again. She has asked that I express her sincerest apology for yesterday and begs ye to understand that she must be on her way with the others and canna tell ye herself.”

“May I offer my own personal apologies, Mrs. Humphrey,” Briar joined in. “And, of course, I will be glad to repay any damage you might have incurred because of my daughter’s antics.”

Mina glared at the woman, daring her to demand anything more from Briar than an apology. It may have been his fault Violet got away with whatever she did, but Violet needed to be the one to make amends or she’d never learn where to draw the line between prank and harm.

High-Brow must have thought she could exact any price from Duncan. She seemed to grow uneasy in Mina’s presence, pressing a laced handkerchief to her forehead, daubing away a bead of perspiration that had a pinkish tint in its dew.

“Just see to it that she has appropriate guidance from now on and that will be repayment enough.” She nodded at Mina. “We do hope you’ll stay a long time with our community, Miss-? I don’t believe I caught your name.”

Mina swapped names with her.

“Do stay as long as you can, Miss McCoy. I’m sure Violet will benefit greatly from your teachings.”

“My intention completely, mum.”

Mavis Harper Humphrey was just the first of many names Mina learned in the ensuing bevy of introductions. By the time the sanctuary was empty, she had met so many people she thought she would never get their names straight. Still, none of them were the right name or the treasured face that she searched for any time she met someone’s gaze.

The headmistress at the Lady’s School where she had worked called her frank study of faces unladylike. Arrogant. Mina had said it was nothing more than curiosity and the need to search for resemblance to her own features. No woman here looked anything like Mina. No chance that any of them were her mother. After a while, she had grown tired of the disappointment and waited quietly for Briar to finish his discussion with the minister.

“You seem lost in thought.” A voice stirred her from her reverie. Briar grabbed his hat from the rack where others were stored during services.

“I was thinking about where I would like to be taken,” she fibbed. To me mother, she wished, then decided she might yet be speaking the truth if circumstances proved such. “To the graveyard, if ye have time.”

“The graveyard?” Briar busied himself with walking her down the steps and getting her settled into the surrey. He commanded the horse into action and they were long past town before he spoke again. “Do you mean Boot Hill at Tascosa or the one closer to Amarillo?”

“Both, if time allows.”

“We’ll do Boot Hill another day.” His tone was sharp. “It’s several miles out.”

“I can go on me day off. Ye do not have to take me today.” He seemed so distant now, though he was sitting only inches away. Was the closeness she felt toward him last night, when he’d held her in his arms, a figment of her imagination or some magic conjured by the night? “Ye seem angry. Have I offended ye in some way?”

“Why would you think that?”

She stared at the robin-egg sky overhead with its lack of clouds. “Perhaps ’tis yer frowning face and angry tone that gave me the clue.”

Briar looked at her like she’d lost her senses then suddenly burst out laughing. “Are you always so direct?”

“I try to be. It gets things said quicker.”

“Why do you feel the need to say things quickly?” His eyes searched hers for understanding.

“It comes from moving around a lot, I suppose.”

“You’ve lived a lot of places? Had a lot of adventures, have you?”

She heard the longing in his voice. The boredom. “’Tis one thing I learned in me many travels, Briar. Places are not the adventures to be enjoyed. People are. Ye should enjoy what time ye have with yer wee one. She’ll grow up and leave ye long before ye’ll be wanting her to.”

“That I know all too well, I’m afraid.”

The spark that had shone in his eyes a moment before now faded with his smile. He was remembering his wife’s passing and she had been the fool to remind him. “I seem to be saying ’tis sorry I am quite often this morning. First, for allowing Violet to wear the trousers. Now asking ye to take me to the graveyard. ’Tis where yer wife is buried, is it not?”

He nodded. “You’ve no need to be sorry. I’m the one who should apologize for my bad temper. I just can’t seem to bring myself to visit Katie Rose’s grave.”

“Not since her passing?”

“Not once. I have the minister put flowers on her grave for me, but I can’t. It would be admitting…I just can’t.”

“Had something come between ye?”

“Nothing like that. We loved each other as much as the day we agreed to marry.”

“Then let me go with ye this first time,” Mina encouraged as she threaded her arm through his to offer support, “so ye willna be alone.” She knew how it felt to be alone. She was a master at being alone.

“No, and I don’t want you ever taking Violet to it either.” He flicked the reins to speed their journey. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”

“I do more than ye think, Briar.” And she did. Mina decided to share the reason she visited cemeteries so that he would realize she knew sorrow as intense as his own. “I search every graveyard in every town I visit. Ye see…” She had never said it aloud before. Never shared the truth with anyone till now. “I study the names on the tombstones for the one name I need most to read-my mother’s.”

He seemed even more driven than before, his grasp on the leather straps fiercer than before. Mina placed a hand upon the reins to restrain the anger that drove them. “Stop running from it, Briar. Stop running from yer future. Some day ye’ll have to look at yer own Katie Rose’s tombstone and know that yer time with her is past. At least ye have her memory. At least ye know she never abandoned ye. She died, Briar. Maybe not of her own choosing, but she’s gone. Ye just doona want to tell her good-bye.”

The gallop slowed to a canter, and it was only then that Mina realized that her breath had been racing too. Racing to make him understand, to make him stop denying the truth, to make him start living again for himself, for Violet, and…somewhere deep in her heart…she heard a whisper that said his acceptance would affect her own future as well.

They sat in silence until he pulled up rein at the cemetery. When Briar put his hands on her waist to help her from the surrey, he quickly set her down and acted as if he’d touched something most foul.

Despite understanding his grief, she couldn’t help feeling hurt by his brusqueness. “Forgive me if I ask too much, Briar. I only mean to help.”

“Go do what you must, but don’t ask me to participate. I find no comfort in seeing the dead’s name written in stone.”

She swung around in fury. “And ye’ve a cold heart, Briar Duncan, if ye think I enjoy looking for me mother’s name among the dearly departed.” Despite her best effort, tears brimmed in Mina’s eyes when the depth of her lifelong anguish took voice. “’Tis easier to believe me mother died than that she actually abandoned me. Look for her I will, till I know the stone-hard fact, for sure and certain. At least ye had a past to put to rest so ye can go on.”

Chapter 7

Later that afternoon, Briar watched Mina’s fingers tap out the reply to General Pershing’s previous telegram and had to admire the dexterity of her movements.

“Ye’re being too wordy.” She frowned at the note he’d scribbled down to answer the commander’s questions about what news there had been concerning the Villistas in the area. “Whyna condense it by shortening these two lines. Ye’re saying the same thing twice.”

He nodded his approval. “You’re good at editing. Go ahead and make any other changes you think necessary. I’ll get us some coffee.”

The battered pot heated on the stove. It kept passengers warm who waited in the lobby. The lobby was empty at the moment, the westbound long gone and the northbound not due in for at least a couple of hours. As Briar filled two cups with the steaming brew, his mind focused on the woman who’d filled his every thought since he’d met her. She seemed adept at the telegraph and knew when to offer suggestions without altering his intent. Mina was not an easy woman to read, but he’d found her fascinating. She seemed hard as a pine nut in her directness, yet vulnerable as a kitten that had been abandoned by its mother. The moment he made the comparison, Briar’s gut wrenched. She was no kitten, but a flesh-and-blood woman who had been abandoned at an early age and, apparently, by a mother too little known to describe further.

Since their ride from the cemetery, Mina insisted upon talking about Violet’s right to know more concerning Katie Rose-a subject that he preferred to cast off as quickly as it intruded upon his thoughts. Though he defended himself by telling Mina that he intended to wait until Violet was old enough to understand more, the truth was that it hurt too much to talk of his wife’s passing. But Mina would have none of it.

The woman made him think more in twenty-four hours than he had in several years. Made him question some of his choices when he had not allowed anyone else even to broach the subject. Hell, Mina McCoy had made him feel like he never felt before. And that was the most startling aspect of all. It was as if she could see beyond the granite wall of reserve he’d built around his heart and decided to slam a maul against his suffering and make him acknowledge the pain, instead of chipping away at it a little at a time. Quick and constantly challenging. That’s how she’d entered his life and that’s how she kept his thoughts stirred.

He didn’t need a suffragette to tell him he should make changes if he was ever to find contentment with his life again. He didn’t need to hang on to her every word about places she’d been and things she’d done to know that he was a poor example of how to get on with one’s life after an emotional storm. But what he admired, and discovered he craved, was the honesty she’d brought with her. He’d lived the lie of his life for nearly four years now, denying that Katie Rose was gone forever and that he must make a life for him and Violet without her. From the moment he met Mina, she’d sensed the lie and that same openness that radiated from her as if it were a fragrance somehow washed over him like a cleansing tide. He may have met her questions with stone silence, but Mina’s concern had awakened the roaring discomfort of his choices.

“Thanks.” She took one of the mugs from his hand and sipped. “I canna remember the last time I had coffee.”

“It’s one of the few things I cook well. We drink a lot of it around here.”

“I favor berry juice or jasmine tea, meself. Coffee will keep ye up nights.”

Briar took a seat on the cot he’d moved back into the office for the day, glad that their earlier anger with each other was subsiding. “I tend to work a lot of nights, so it keeps me going.”

Mina leaned closer, the honey of her eyes warming. “I can see I have a few things to teach Violet’s father as well.”

The look was blatantly suggestive. Provocatively inviting. He’d felt the attraction between them from the start. Wanted to give in to it when he’d held her in his arms last night in the yard. Prayed for the strength not to wrap his arms around her in church when she’d sat pressed against him. The time had come to see if what she’d stirred within him was one-sided or if she felt any attraction toward him as well. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself when she might only be trying to help Violet by aiding Violet’s father. Yet, the prospect of experiencing something sensual, something close, with Mina had its allure. He was rusty at flirting, wasn’t even sure he had ever been adept at it. “And what would you teach me, Miss McCoy?”

She reached out, took the cup of coffee from his hands, and set it down. “First of all, I would have ye learn the value of a good vegetarian diet and healthy beverages.”

Had he mistook her meaning? Was he so enamored with her that he wanted to read more into their relationship than actually was there? Briar frowned, trying to douse the fire of want that flamed any time she drew near. He needed some sort of distraction. Anything to cool his thoughts. A joke. Say something funny. She appreciates a quick wit. “A vegetarian diet, in the cattle capital of the country, and this from the woman who wolfed down a side of roast beef last night?”

She giggled, her eyes lit with challenge. “A sassy tongue ye have on ye, Briar Duncan, and I have a taste for many things.”

God in heaven, help him! Taste and tongue. Words that sent seductive images coursing from his mind to ignite all points less rationally motivated. Her hair curled so wild and free around her cheeks, he could do nothing but reach out to caress one blond silken strand. The air between them grew thick and electric, as expectant as right before a thunderstorm. The world around Briar faded as if nothing but he and she existed, and time ceased to move. Briar could barely form the words as his heart pounded in his throat, his voice deep and low, “I want only one thing right now, and that’s a taste of you.”

Push me away, he pleaded, but her eyes softly shut and Mina leaned closer. He pulled her to him and covered her lips with his. Her mouth opened invitingly as her arms went around him, pressing her length against his. He needed no further encouragement and his tongue slid lazily between her lips to taste deeply of her. A low moan dissolved against his mouth, the kiss becoming ravenous, rough and wanton. Their rapid breaths soughed together as the attraction that had consumed him heated into exquisite pleasure.

“Open yer eyes,” she whispered against his lips. “I want ye to know who this is ye’re kissing.”

Briar’s eyes sprang open in direct challenge, the moment threatening to subside into the reality of the woman in his arms being a stranger only yesterday. Her slow lazy smile held no hint of reprimand but something more of an askance, a need to be desired; she wanted to be kissed for herself and not as a stand-in for Katie. “God help me”-he flicked her earlobe with his tongue, pressing hot, urgent kisses against her neck-“why did you let me kiss you?”

“Because I damned well wanted to be kissed, and by ye.”

Her throaty groan vibrated against his lips, sending them urgently to reclaim the treasure she offered. He combed his fingers through her hair, loving the way it felt silky and smooth as it slid between them. Drifting over her shoulders, his fingers caressed the vee of ribs that slimmed to a sensual swell of hips. He gently slid one hand beneath her tunic to palm a warm, soft globe that peaked exquisitely against the thin material that felt like nothing more than butterfly wings. Her groan became a soft gasp of yearning, a sound so feminine he wanted only to tame, yet protect it in the same instant.

“W-What’s this?” he wondered aloud at the sound of a loud rip that startled him from his revelry. She was not wearing a corset but some strange contraption to cover her breasts, now rendered beyond repair by the impulsiveness of his passion. He raised the triangular patches of cotton netting and the ribbon that held them together. “I’ve torn your undergarment.”

What should I call it? Briar wondered, never having seen anything like it in the fashion catalogs.

“I can always find a new one.” She shook her head, as if unable to regain her focus.

“Buy a new one, you mean.” Briar took a deep breath, attempting to recover his own good sense. No, she meant find. She continuously collected things anyone else might have discarded. She’d been in the office one morning and already there were five new items he’d seen her pick up and place on the desk. Had she picked him up too, like a foundling who was broken and need of repair?

He stepped away from her, more to put distance between himself and his need to touch her again than for his embarrassment over damaging her finery. “I apologize, Ms. McCoy. I don’t quite know what came over me.”

“I came over ye, just as ye came over me. Plain and simple. Not the kiss, by any means”-her fists ended as balls against the lovely hips he’d admired with his hands only moments before-“at least as far as I am concerned. ’Twas one ballyhoo of a brassiere buster, in me way of thinking.”

“I take it that this is a brassiere?” He held up the contraption. Despite the awkwardness of the moment and stab at his pride, Briar began to laugh. His pent-up passion needed release and the laughter allowed him to rid himself of the tension. “I’ve heard of them but never seen one before.”

She nodded. “A homemade one, but it serves the purpose.” She took it from him and laid it on the cot. “I should say served its purpose. I’ll be for finding something else to string it together again.”

Coffee. I need coffee, Briar decided, his throat now parched for anything to quell the taste of Mina. Hell, I need a beer. Briar searched for something to do with his hands to stave off the feel of her. Of all times for the telegraph to lay silent. What he wouldn’t give to hear a ten-liner humming the wires. “Here, better drink your coffee before it gets cold,” he suggested, handing her a cup and taking his own. “No telling when the messages will start up again, and Violet ought to be in soon. She’ll be full of stories, I’m sure.”

Challenge radiated from the golden eyes that seemed to reach straight down into him and twist his gut.

“So we’re gonna pretend we didn’t kiss, are we?” When he took too long to mull exactly how to answer her, her chin lifted indignantly. “I would like to know if ye’re gonna be glad or sad that we did it.”

“Really, Miss McCoy, you continue to amaze me.” Briar stared at her over the rim of his cup. “Why is it is so important that you know how I feel about it?” Yet, he could see that it did matter to her…greatly.

“To see if ye liked it well enough to do it again.”

Do it again? Briar bolted to his feet and put distance between himself and the temptation she presented. Blazes, that’s all he could think of was doing it again, and again, and again. But he wasn’t sure how to handle a woman who wanted in such equal measure. Katie was…well, Katie just wasn’t so hot a burn. “I’m supposed to be the one who…The man’s suppose to-”

“What? Take the lead?” Her hands flung out to encompass the world about her. “I’ve no time for it. If ye canna tell that what we just shared was something God-golden-glorious, then ’tis my sworn duty to help ye find yer wits.”

Briar didn’t know if he liked her blatant, in-your-face sexuality. Hell, admit it man, you like it too much. “We think a little differently, you and I.”

“’Tis rightly so, and ’tis different ye’ve been wanting. I’m just the change of flavor ye’ve been hungry for and yer kiss told ye so. Deny it, if ye like, but the truth is the truth.”

Briar’s eyes met hers. His lips still tasted like hers; the fire of her seduction still simmered in his veins. He may have made a mistake in kissing her, but he would never deny that he was forever changed by it. “I wanted the kiss. Wanted you. But I can’t give you what I don’t have to offer.”

“And what is it that ye canna offer me? That ye’ve no ability to give?”

“A heart that can love again,” he answered with more truth than any she’d demanded of him.

Till now.

Chapter 8

The afternoon had been hectic, leaving Mina little time to think about what had transpired between her and Briar. Incoming and outgoing telegrams were so frequent that she’d barely had enough time to settle Violet in for her nap. But the lass must have enjoyed the hayride. She was asleep almost as quickly as her head lay on the cot. Small wonder Briar had been swamped with all his duties, if today’s activities were any indication.

The moment she thought of him, it was almost as if she could smell the wonderful essence that surrounded her any time Briar was near. A clean, musky, masculine scent that forced her attention away from the machine to see if her imagination had willed him closer.

“You okay?”

Mina wondered how long he’d been standing in the doorway watching her and hoped it had been for a while. That might mean he enjoyed what he saw and, after the kiss they shared and his certainty that she could not persuade his heart to soften, she was determined to make him enjoy being with her. She deliberately stretched her arms and yawned, hoping to define her femininity to its finest. “Tired. But ’tis a good tired I am. Got a lot done.”

His gaze traced her movement, lingering at her breasts then widening as it raised and locked with her own. A grin suddenly lifted his lips as a look of acknowledgment warmed his eyes. Mina smiled back.

For a moment, she savored his grin for all it promised.

For a moment, she let him see that she was making a promise of her own.

And for a moment, she hoped that both promises might lead him to love again, if he would allow himself the chance.

“Was the imp hard to settle in for her nap?”

Mina allowed him a better view of the child that rested behind her. “No trouble at all for an even bigger imp to handle.”

“You may be just what we…she needed.” He moved past Mina and bent down beside Violet. “I haven’t seen her rest this well in a long time,” he whispered.

“I promised her if she took a long nap, I would take her on a treasure hunt after I finished my work.”

“A treasure hunt?”

Violet’s well eye opened. “Yeah, Daddy, and I slept real good. You gonna let her stop now? She worked real hard.”

Both adults laughed.

“Tell you what I’ll do. I’ve got about another hour of cleaning the roundhouse. That’ll see the six-fifteen come and gone. I don’t think Sam will mind taking the reins forty-five minutes early. He’s wanting some extra hours with his oldest’s birthday coming up.”

Briar stood and glanced around the office. “This place hasn’t looked so good since we opened it.” He picked up an old boot standing on the corner of her desk. Indian paintbrush, blue flax, and yucca stalks filled the tanned leather in a colorful bouquet of red, white, and yellow. “You’ve added a decoration or two.”

“I brung her the flowers from out at the breaks, Daddy.” Violet got up and lifted the boot so her father could have a better look. “Old Joe decided to have his annual foot washing in the creek and threw away his old boots. I couldn’t lift but one of ’em, so I put the flowers in it to make it smell better. Angel said it was the best thing she ever got.”

She picked up what was left of the brassiere Briar had ripped off Mina. “I seen her picking stuff up like this off the ground, so I figured she’d like Old Joe’s boot since he didn’t want it no more.”

“Ye figured right,” Mina complimented, quickly taking the bra from her hands and stuffing it in a pocket. “And it is the nicest present anyone ever gave me. If not the most odoriferous.”

“The most odorous?” Panic seemed to etch Violet’s expression. “Can you still use it when the flowers go away?”

Mina’s heart lurched. What was the child really asking her? Was she hearing something in Violet’s tone that wasn’t there? Was she being too sensitive? She couldn’t take the chance of saying the wrong thing. After all, she’d been seven once and left behind. What would she have understood at that age? What had she needed to hear?

“I never throw anything away, lass.” She fingered one of the blue petals. “If I canna keep it, for whatever reason, I fix it and give it to someone who will love it more than me. And the word is odoriferous.”

Violet returned the boot to its place. “Good. ’Cause them flowers got mean stickers, and it was hard picking ’em.”

The wire started humming, signaling an incoming message. Glad for the interruption, Mina turned her attention to duties and let the Duncans visit while she took the message. She needed time to quiet the memory Violet’s question had evoked in her own past. Yet the more she heard of the message, the less she wanted to decipher it.

“Mina?” Briar put a hand on her shoulder. “You look pale.”

“Do I?” She tried not to lay her cheek upon the back of his hand. Doona go, her mind screamed. “I must need some air,” she whispered. “Will ye take over for a minute? ’Tis quick I’ll be.”

“Take your time. The roundhouse can wait.”

It was all she could do not to run outside. Mina forced herself to walk as if she had no concern for anything but a breath of fresh air. Once outside, she took long strides away from the depot so that no one would stop her and ask questions. She needed time alone. Time to get hold of herself.

She chose a path alongside the roadbed, allowing it to lead her away from the hustle and bustle of the busy station. Once she felt no one could see her, she searched the ground for a rock, found one, and threw it as hard as she could against the iron rail. It shattered into tiny pieces, mirroring the way she felt at the moment.

“Why is it that Ye want me alone?” she yelled at the blue sky above, her voice taking on volume as rage erupted from her. “I did what I should have. I proved I could take care of meself. All by meself, I grew to a woman, fine and true to Yer good ways. And with no help from either father or mother.” Her sails were full of breath and bluster. “I learned to wait.”

She pointed at the roadbed that led to the station. “And now, just when I found someone who doesna fear me shadows and makes me light up like the dawn, Ye’re gonna send him a fine message such as that! Take him from me like Ye have everyone else Ye ever put in me life? Take him from what’s best for her, too?”

If Briar was this busy in Amarillo, no telling what would happen to Violet if he carted her off to who-knew-where. Mina picked up one of the pieces of the rock and crumbled the rest of it between her fingers, letting the wind carry it away. “Ye’re gonna lead him off to somewhere in Texas or Mexico where he’ll find her too much of a distraction. Where he’ll not need or want me?”

The tears came now, unbidden, hot, cruel. “Am I such a tribulation, Lord? Why does no one want me?”

Two strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back into a familiar embrace. Her eyes closed as she breathed in the essence of Briar and the haven he offered her. The sanctuary she needed.

“Don’t cry, Mina.”

“Ye heard?” She prayed he hadn’t. She wondered if he understood.

“I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t let you go without finding out. I left Violet with the wire. She’s probably contacted Japan by now.”

Mina laughed, grateful for a way to stop the flow of tears. Awed that he had cared enough to follow. She faced him, finding comfort in the fact that he continued to hold her. “I promise you I’m worth wanting, Briar.” Her eyes met his. “And I’m willing to wait however long it takes for ye to want me in return.”

“I’m not going to accept Pershing’s offer, Mina. Raising Violet right is my true adventure now. It has been all along and I just was too blind to see it. I have you to thank for that. And just so you know”-his breath mingled with her own as his lips lowered to hers-“wanting you has never been in question.”

She held nothing back. The first kiss they’d shared had been one to tempt him. This one meant to seal their fate so that nothing would ever keep their hearts apart. Shadows that had been so long a part of Mina suddenly vanished with the promise of a radiant dawn. The abandonment that had cloaked every fearful night of her life was now vanquished in the heated wake of belonging somewhere and to someone. The earth seemed to rock beneath her feet, as if the roots of their future had buried themselves deep within the soil.

When the kiss ended he took a step backward, looking dazed. “I vowed to love Katie forever, Mina. I just don’t know if I can make such a promise again.”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she’d learned to be patient. To wait on life to lead her in a better direction. She knew now, beyond a shadow of any fear, that Briar was the pot at the end of her rainbow.

Forever meant different things to people, but the one thing true for everyone was that forever could always be exchanged with now.

Chapter 9

“Where did you find that?” Briar took the sack of flour from Mina’s hand. They had been walking the streets between his house and the restaurant for an hour. The stores were closed so she couldn’t have got it from the mercantile.

“Someone must have dropped it off one of their wagons when they headed home. I put a notice up at the filling station in case the owner asked about it.” Mina dusted off her skirt where some of the flour had obviously leaked out of the bag. “I’ll make a blueberry patch of pies if no one claims it. The preacher will be glad of it when I share the pies with his flock next Sunday.”

“And look what else we found, Daddy.” Violet opened the pouch Mina had given her to carry whatever treasures she found. She pulled out a cob pipe that had lost its stem, a rolled up newspaper, a silk ribbon, a piece of leather, and a tassel that could have easily been taken from the surrey he’d driven earlier.

“Looks like you found a bunch.” He examined each of her prizes carefully. “Decided what you’re going to do with them?”

“Angel said she’d fix ’em for me. I’m gonna give them to my friends. Angel said treasures should never be thrown away. You can always fix them up and give them a new home.”

“That’s mighty nice of you. I’ll bet your friends would enjoy them.”

“Except this ol’ newspaper. Jim Corbett said he’s seen enough newspaper at his grandpa’s house to last him till the earth runs out of ink.”

“I would like to keep it, if ye doona mind.” Mina waited until Violet handed her the newsprint then uncurled it. “It says here that rainmaker, Charles Hatfield, predicted heavy rains in San Diego, California, in January and, saints and begorra, if it didna come a downpour.” She held the headline up for Briar to see. “Maybe ye need to send the man a telegram and invite him to the panhandle.”

“Oh yeah,” Briar scoffed, “I’ll just bet every family who’s experienced the boom and bust of their wheat crop will go for that idea. I’d be laughed off the high plains.”

Mina gently hit Briar with the paper. “Ye have any better idea how to call down the rain?”

“Maybe talk some of Quanah’s kin into dancing for us. It always worked for them.”

“Is his tribe still around? Nathaniel said the area was safe.”

“The last battle was out in the canyon a few miles from here.”

“Rainmaker or rain dance”-Mina did an Irish jig-“whatever will get the message to heaven quicker, I’m thinking.”

Violet quickly returned her discoveries to the pouch and tugged on Mina’s skirt. “Will you fix my kite for me?”

“Sure, but I thought ye didna want to play with it anymore.”

“I got me a real important message to send.”

Briar escorted them home and made supper while Mina and Violet worked on the kite at the kitchen table. He enjoyed watching her instruct his daughter, listened closely as she answered Violet’s questions and guided every helpful hand the child offered. She did not criticize the misspelling of the message, but rather applauded Violet’s diligent effort. Mina knew how to work with children. She would be a good mother.

The thought led his mind too easily to the kisses they’d shared this afternoon and the feel of her in his arms. He tried to will the same image of Katie, but it dimmed in comparison to what he’d shared with Mina.

“Are you two about finished?” he asked, almost too brusquely, aware that he was angry at Mina for his betrayal of Katie’s memory. “I need to set the table soon.”

“All done,” Mina announced, handing the kite to Violet. “Go put that in yer room on top of your footrest and I’ll help yer da with the plates. Be sure to slant it sideways as you go through the doors.”

“You’ve got her believing she can call down the rain with that. Don’t you think you’re being a little foolish?” Briar stirred the gravy before it bubbled over. He took a bowl down from the cabinet to use once the gravy cooled.

“Is it a fool’s wish to hope? Better to use yer imagination and try, than to sit back and do nothing.”

Criticism echoed in Mina’s tone, stirring his anger further. He couldn’t let her innuendo go unchallenged. “Say what you mean, Mina. You’ve always been frank before.”

“Okay, then I will. Ye say ye want me, but ye do nothing about it. Ye say ye canna love again, but yer lips tell me differently. Why are ye content in withdrawing from the fact that death has parted ye from Katie Rose and ye must find a way to live without her? Ye’ve lost yer way, Briar, and ye just need to find yer way back. I hope ’tis me who leads ye there, but if someone else is in the plan, then so be it. But ye must trust yer heart again, man, if ye want a better life than the one ye’ve now chosen for the two of ye. And I say chosen, because ’tis what ye’ve done. Ye’re choosing to be lost. ’Tis in yer own power to change things.”

He set the gravy off to cool. “My life’s not so bad.”

“It could be better.”

“Violet, come eat,” Briar called loudly, knowing Mina was right but unwilling to admit it. “You need to get to bed soon.”

“And yer da needs to stuff his mouth so he can evade the issue,” Mina added before she grabbed up the skillet and poured its contents into the blue-speckled tureen.

Craackk! The gravy began to seep out the edges of the large split that rent the tureen’s porcelain side.

“Ohh, ’tis sorry I am.” After Mina dropped the red-hot container, she began to mop up the gravy with the hot pad she’d used to lift the skillet.

Briar grabbed an empty pan from the cabinet and quickly transferred the remainder of the mixture into the pan.

“Please let me help. I’ll-”

“I’ve got it. Go wash that off before it burns your hands.”

Apology etched her face. “I wasna thinking. It was hotter than…Ye can take it out of my first wages or ’tis another I’ll buy ye at-”

“It can’t be replaced.”

Her eyes rounded. “It was Katie Rose’s?”

“Our wedding bowl.”

When the bowl was empty, he placed it gently in the trash. “Tell Violet to wash her hands before she comes to the table. That will give me time to make sure we didn’t get any on the floor so none of us will slip on it.”

“I’ll send her in, but please doona set a plate for me. I-I canna eat.”

Mina yawned. It had to be three in the morning, but at last she was done. It had been difficult working in the dark, but she knew if she had turned on the light she might awaken Violet. She only hoped the glue on the tureen would hold and that the mixture of flowers, flax, and candle wax was enough to hold the porcelain together. She’d used flowers and candle wax for glue before, but the idea to add some of the blue flax to hide the crack had come to her about an hour ago. She’d taken the bowl apart again, gathered some of the flowers from Briar’s backyard, and altered the mixture. Just as she planned, the color of the flax blended perfectly with the bowl’s design and the crack was no longer visible. Now if the glue held, she would be able to present the bowl to Briar almost in its original shape. Almost.

She decided to check on Violet before turning in. Mina tiptoed to the child’s room, hoping not to wake her. The rascal had a bad habit of not really being asleep. Briar had returned to the station hours ago after doing the dishes. She’d started to help him, but then thought better of it. She’d broken one of Katie’s precious belongings. If she harmed another, he would never forgive her.

Mina smiled as she saw all the treasures Violet had found now laying about her room, all with a piece of paper and the person’s name to whom she planned to give the treasure scrawled across its surface. She leaned down to press a kiss against Violet’s brow only to discover a wisp of hair had fallen into the lass’s eyes. She smoothed it back, then gently kissed the tiny forehead.

“I ’member somebody doing that,” Violet whispered. The bruised eye opened slightly as she yawned. “I think it was my mommy.”

Mina pulled the covers up and tucked the child in, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Do ye remember much about her?”

“Only that she smelled nice and she sang pretty.”

“Did she give you this?” Mina lifted the silver baby rattle that lay on the stand next to the bed.

“Nope. That’s Daddy’s. His godfather gave it to him, and he gave it to me.”

“His godfather?”

“Mr. Corbett, the newspaper man. He’s the one who helped Daddy meet Mommy, I think. ’Least that’s what Daddy said.”

“What else has yer da told ye about her?”

“Nothing. He said it would just hurt me to know. But you know what, angel?”

“What, sweeting?”

“I think he hurts when he talks about Mommy, so I don’t ask him.”

“Maybe someday soon he willna hurt anymore, then he’ll tell ye all about her.”

“You really think so?”

“Ye can be sure of it, love.”

“Jimmy told me my mommy’s buried in the graveyard, not in heaven like Daddy said. Did you see her when you went there?”

“No.” Mina was glad she could answer that question honestly, but she would not lie to the child. “People who get sick and go to heaven usually go to the graveyard first.”

“I don’t believe you. You and Jimmy are talking jive. I want to see her.”

“Yer da will have to take ye there, Violet. I promised him that I would leave that to him. Now close those sleepy eyes and go to sleep or ye’ll be too tired to fly yer kite tomorrow. Ye doona want another hot, dry day, do ye? We could sure use the rain.”

The child reluctantly went back to sleep. Mina waited until she was sure her steps would not reawaken the lass, then tiptoed out into the hall. A shadow shifted just as she sensed a presence in the hallway. “How long have ye been standing there?” she asked, her heart pounding in her throat.

“Long enough to tell you to stop discussing Katie Rose with my daughter.”

Mina moved past him and took a seat in the parlor, needing to sit to stop her trembling. She had forgotten about his occasional check-ins to make sure Violet was all right. His anger was almost palpable; she didn’t need to see it on his face.

“I didna discuss her,” she countered, electing not to turn on a light. “I merely asked Violet what she remembered and, frankly, ’tis a sad lot she recalls.”

“It’s none of your business, Miss McCoy. I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”

“And when is that? When ye’ve withdrawn so far into yer-self that ye canna teach her how it is to love and be loved? She’s a little girl expecting her mother to return. She needs to know Katie’s never coming back. She needs to know that doesna mean she was never loved while Katie lived. Violet has a right to know her mother fully so she can treasure that memory. ’Tis the greatest legacy ye can give her.”

“How much of this is your own need, Mina?” His voice softened slightly as he took a seat opposite her. “Don’t you know why your mother abandoned you? Are these all the things you need to know from her?”

Mina’s back stiffened as if he’d lashed her with a quirt. “Me da told me nothing other than she left him…us…when I was two months old, and that every day of my life since then I reminded him of her. That’s the sum total of what I know.”

“And how long did he stay around?”

“Until I was twelve. And he was not the one who left. He kicked me out.”

“On the streets?”

“A far better place than the so-called home he provided.”

“Care to tell me why you were kicked out?”

“As ye said. Some things are just no other’s business.”

“Then we agree. You don’t talk to Violet any more about her mother and I won’t ask you about your father.”

“I’ll not lie to the child. If she asks me and I know, I’ll tell her.”

He stood. “Then I may have to ask you to leave.”

“And that choice, Briar Duncan, may one day break yer daughter’s heart as well as yer own.”

Chapter 10

Nothing had gone right for Briar all day. The 8:10 was late. One of the cows broke out of its holding pen, and Violet had ignored his warning of the past three days about flying her kite too close to the Eclipse. She’d tangled it in the windmill’s blades and destroyed the toy beyond repair. Violet and the windmill had been cranky ever since.

Mina’s mood was no better. The woman had been curt to him ever since he scolded Violet and said she should take such nonsense elsewhere. Mina retaliated with her own reprimand, telling him to quit yelling like a banshee and take his anger out on the person at whom it was truly directed.

Damned if she wasn’t right and damned if she hadn’t been ever so courteous to every male who’d walked into the telegrapher’s office since she’d hired on. He was glad it was time for her to be off duty so he could concentrate on what he should be doing instead of what everyone else was trying to do with her. Briar was damned mad and he didn’t care who knew it.

“You two ready to head home?” he asked, irritated that three men waited in front of Mina’s desk to send a telegram. Violet sat behind her on the cot, using some of the glue Mina had given her to repair the treasures she’d found along the roadside.

When had news gotten around about his new telegrapher? He never seen this much participation from male members of this community in sending wires. The men usually sent their wives or sisters to do this kind of triviality, spending their time on heavier tasks. But, if he’d watched one man go into the telegrapher’s office, he’d seen twenty. You’d think they never saw a beautiful woman before.

And Mina was beautiful, the more he looked at her. The more he knew about her. The high color of anger on her cheeks had only made her eyes look more golden. The stiff arch of her back every time he walked in to check on Violet had only defined Mina’s voluptuous figure.

Voluptuous. The word echoed in his brain and sent his blood coursing with heated memories. Hell, he’d been reading too many fashion books lately. No man should have to gauge the difference in buying full-figured, voluptuous, and petite clothing. That was women’s work!

Mina laughed so hard she snorted.

What the hell did Harris say to her that made her laugh so hard? Briar listened closer to the conversation she was having with her current customer, irritated that his mind had drifted from the task at hand. Damned if he hadn’t been unfocused all day.

He reminded himself that he usually found Brett Harris a likeable soul. Why couldn’t he have inherited more of his dad’s height and a little less of his mother’s good looks? “I said, are you ready for us to change out hands, Miss McCoy?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen, it seems I must get off the clock.” Her smile could have melted the snow atop the Rockies four hundred miles away. “Me boss is of a mind to save the railroad a few pittance. He or Sam will be helping ye now.”

She stood and moved with such fluid grace that all four men’s heads turned in unison to watch her. “Are ye ready for a bite to eat, lassie?” she asked, helping Violet gather her things and stow them into the pouch.

A doughboy stepped out of line behind Harris and offered to carry the pouch for Violet. “We can’t have a little thing like you carry such a big old bag now, can we, miss?” He tipped his hat to Mina. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you and the little lady home or, better yet, could I interest the two of you in joining me for supper?”

Mina shook her head. “Perhaps another time, sir. ’Tis other plans I’ve made for the evening already.”

Other plans? With whom? Briar stewed.

“Corporal Tuz, miss. You can reach me over at the Amarillo Hotel. At least until I’m called to El Paso.”

“Till another day then, Corporal.”

Till the caprock collapses, Briar vowed. “I’ll see you home,” he insisted.

“We know the way.” Mina gently took Violet’s hand and swept past Briar before he could object further. All three men in line doffed their hats as the females passed.

“Oohwee, I’d like to drink my fill of some of that Irish whiskey. I’ll bet she can-”

Briar grabbed the man by his lapel and rammed him up against the office wall. His fist knotted the broadcloth shirt, squeezing off the foul words that might have ended the sentence. “I’ll thank you not to talk like that about a lady in my company.”

“I-I’m s-sorry, Duncan. I meant n-no-”

“Then watch what you say.” Briar released his hold, aware that he’d allowed all the tension of the past few days to form the fury of his fist. He was ready to kill the man if necessary, all because he’d slighted the woman he cared about. And care about Mina he did, in a depth he’d let no emotion reach in years. Briar backed way, lest his opponent notice and think he feared completing the threat.

“Your machine’s going off,” Brett Harris announced. “Do I need to call Sam in here to take it for you?”

Briar noticed the hum of the wire, realizing it had been sounding off for a while. He’d thought his rage had taken voice and sang through his veins. Get back to work, man, and get her out of your thoughts. Out of your blood. “Thanks Brett. That won’t be necessary. I’ll take it.”

Arriving Amarillo by morning of the 26. Stop. Bringing my wife with me. Stop. You read right. I said “wife.” Couldn’t stop myself. Stop. Nathaniel. Stop. A little telegraph humor. Stop. Get it? Stop.

P.S. Never guess who’s on the eastbound headed your way. Stop. Charlie Chaplin, the film star. Stop. Heard he’s heading to Europe. Stop. Might want to give Mayor Beasley the heads up. Stop.

Nathaniel was finally coming home. And with a wife!

“Bad news?” Brett asked.

“No.” Briar placed the telegram to the side and reached for the message Brett wanted to send. “As a matter of fact, it’s good. Things will start getting a little easier around here. Nathaniel’s on his way home tomorrow.”

“Does that mean you won’t need your new telegrapher?” Brett’s question stirred the other men into further comments.

“I hope she sticks around town.”

“I think you ought to keep her on and let Nathaniel help somewhere else.”

“We’ll decide all that when Nathaniel gets here.” Briar didn’t want to hear any more. His head already began to throb with the decisions he knew he’d have to make within the next twenty-four hours. Why keep Mina on after Nathaniel returned? He could let his friend and bride have the house as long as they allowed Violet to keep her room. He could continue to sleep here at the station, until he found some other place for him and Violet. Maybe Nathaniel’s wife would be willing to watch after Violet while they worked. After all, school would start up soon again, and it wasn’t like Violet would be taking up most of her time as it had Mina’s the past two days.

Then again, a new bride might not want to be saddled with watching a child that wasn’t her own.

“Next?” Briar held out his hand for the next missive. He wanted nothing more than for Sam to finish up with that last delivery so he could take over the wire for him. He made quick work of the remaining requests and took in two more messages before his replacement arrived.

“I’m going to run this over to the mayor and check on Violet, then I’ll be back.”

“Still sleeping on the cot?” Sam asked, taking his seat at the wire.

Briar hadn’t told his coworker that he’d not tried to help find Mina another place to stay and didn’t feel like a long discussion now. “Yeah, looks like for a while now. If Nat’s bringing home a wife, they’re going to need a place to stay.”

“That mean Miss McCoy will be looking for one too?”

Add that to another list of his decisions to make. He supposed Violet could share her room until one opened up at the hotel or boarding house. “Women sure do add a whole lot of trouble to a man’s life, don’t they?”

Sam grinned. “Yeah, but they’re worth it.”

“Shut up and wipe that grin off your face.” Briar felt his mood lighten slightly and was grateful that his barrel-chested friend always easily put him in a better mood. He was a family man with six daughters and a wife who could do no wrong in his eyes. He might not have the wealth of some of the others around town, but he was richer than most in other ways. “You’re just spoiled rotten to the core.”

“Uh-huh, and loving every minute of it. You ought to rope that Irish hellion for yourself, laddie.” Sam imitated their coworker’s brogue.

“I don’t need to. She’s already thrown a loop herself and almost got me hog-tied,” he finally admitted to his friend and even to himself. “Almost.”

Sam’s laughter echoed over the incoming message which reminded Briar that he needed to be on his way to the mayor’s house and to decide just what he planned to do with Miss Mina McCoy.

“And you say Chaplin’s arriving tomorrow?” Mayor Beasley’s face beamed with pleasure. The ceiling fan over the tall man’s head chased the smoke away from the cigar that puffed steadily amid its mooring between his broad span of teeth. The black pin-striped waistcoat he wore nearly swelled to its seams as he puffed his pleasure. “Did Nathaniel say how he got the information?”

“No, but you know Nat. He wouldn’t get you all riled up, knowing how big a fan you are. If he says Chaplin will be on the eastbound, then count on it. That means he’ll arrive late afternoon.” Briar watched the man grab a pen and start writing.

“We’ll need to rouse the Ladies Auxilary and have them fire up their ovens.” His Honor scribbled as fast as he talked. “And I’m sure the churches will allow us to borrow their tables to set up along the platform. We can put up the banners we use for the Fourth, and I’ll have Silas inform the band to polish up their instruments and brush off their uniforms.”

“So we’re going full throttle on this?” Briar asked after he’d heard enough to keep him and the rest of the community up all night making preparations for Chaplin’s arrival.

“Of course, man.” Surprise raised Beasley’s eyebrows almost to his hairline. “It’s not every day a man of his re-known and influence graces our township. Just think of the interest Amarillo will gain once the world knows he’s been given the key to our city. Yes, yes. I deem this our civic duty to make him feel most welcomed.”

“The train only has a thirty-minute stop. He’ll barely have time to freshen up, much less eat or anything else you’ve got planned.”

“At least it will be available to him. Savory food, fine music, and convivial company. He can choose whichever he prefers for that thirty minutes.”

“Then you best let me get started on all of this.”

“My secretary will call the Auxilary. You call the others. Send me a bill for any charges you accumulate. Oh and invite that lovely young lady I’ve seen around town with your daughter. I hear Chaplin appreciates a handsome woman.”

“Chaplin and every man west of the Mississippi, it seems,” Briar muttered on his way out.

Chapter 11

Mina and Violet arrived back from Boot Hill well past sundown. She thanked the preacher for the ride and gently lowered the sleeping child onto her shoulder.

“I’ve never seen her so tired before.” The preacher thumbed back the black slouch hat he wore. “But then I’ve never seen her remain quiet for that long either. She was quite the somber soul this evening.”

“She had a lot to think about, Reverend. Four years of wondering in that little imagination would be an ballyhoo of exhaustion. Now she knows what a grave site looks like and what it means. The lass is too smart and she wouldna stop asking me questions. Better that I satisfied her curiosity about a graveyard than have her stumble over Katie’s grave. But ’tis sure and certain I am, once I tell her da what I’ve done, he will send me on my way. Still, I know I did the right thing.”

“Do you want me to talk to Briar for you?”

“No, Reverend. ’Tis my doing. ’Tis I who will suffer the man’s anger.”

The sound of hammers echoed in the dusk, urging Mina to look past the preacher’s surrey. “It seems some late builders are working this fine Friday night. New kit houses going up?”

The preacher shook his head. “I don’t believe so. I noticed a lot of the striped banners we hang over the storefronts on the Fourth of July are in place. Looks like we may be having a big to-do tomorrow. Though, I don’t remember being informed of such.” He tipped his hat again. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss McCoy, I’ll see you safely inside then I’ll go find out what’s stirred up my flock.”

“Violet and I are safe enough. Her father will be checking on us soon. I thank ye for providing the ride and the fine company, sir.”

“Good evening then.”

“And to ye.”

Mina walked up to the porch then turned to see one last time what stirred the citizens of Amarillo before going in. The streets were alive with activity. People hustled to and fro. Model Ts and horse-drawn surreys trailed each other down the roadway, carrying colorful bundles and baskets full of items she couldn’t define from here. She’d lived plenty of mean places, but Amarillo wasn’t one of them. The golden city of the Texas panhandle might be drought-ridden at the moment but it was awash with a community of people who worked together to make it a happy one.

A sense of peace settled over Mina and she allowed herself a moment to savor the feeling that at last she was in a place she would like to make her home. She admired the town and its people, she adored the child she held in her arms, and she loved the man who was too obstinate to know his own heart.

Well, two could play at that game, she decided, opening the door and stepping inside. She’d shown him that he had come to mean something to her, and he brushed her away as if she were a pesky fly buzzing around his head. Pride was not new to her, and Mina refused to let him know how deeply it hurt that his feelings toward her, apparently, were not as strongly felt as hers were toward him. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She’d proven herself quite capable all on her own.

But pride proved a lonely companion. She found little comfort in being adept and capable if she couldn’t share those abilities with someone. Do things for someone. Love and be loved by someone. That someone she had longed for had finally taken on a name-Briar Duncan.

And love him she did. She’d known it the minute she kissed him the second time. No, she first suspected it even before then…when their eyes met after she stepped off the train. It was as if whatever love she’d wanted had dared Mina to look beyond the glass surface that separated her from her future and the happiness she’d searched for all her life.

And now because Briar wouldn’t let go of his past, neither of them would have the future she knew felt right for all three of them.

Maybe if she left, Briar would realize what he lost and would come after her. But the thought of leaving him, leaving Violet, nearly ripped the heart from Mina’s chest. She held Violet tighter, unable to consider a life now without either of the Duncans in it.

How could her own mother have left a two-month-old and a man she loved? How could she endure the pain that weakened Mina’s knees and made her feet plant themselves like roots so they wouldn’t carry her away from where she belonged? How did a woman walk away and never come back?

She couldn’t have unless she’d never loved them.

The cold reality that Colleen McCoy had never loved this deeply brought the tears that, to Mina’s great surprise, allowed her to finally forgive the woman. How could she blame someone for what she did not know or couldn’t feel?

The anger and hurt of years calmed into a quiet resolve of pity. She vowed in the morning to tell Briar of her love for him. To let him know that she would wait until he was ready to accept that love, no matter how long it took. And to let Violet know that she would remain in Amarillo and would always be near if she needed her. She would be no Colleen McCoy and run away. She would stay and fight for what she wanted.

Mina elected not to turn on the light since she saw one shining from beneath the doorways of both bedrooms. Briar had obviously been here and gone, leaving the lights on to guide them in. When she opened the door to the child’s room, she discovered she was right in her assumptions. The covers had been turned down and Violet’s nightdress laid out. An aroma of something delicious-smelling emanated from the towel-wrapped plate sitting on the nightstand. He’d obviously left supper for the child. Mina knew, without doubt, there would be one in her room, too.

His room. She reminded herself of the dozen kindnesses Briar had offered her the past few days. He’d made sure she was comfortable, gave her employment. He’d cooked for her and helped her hunt for keepsakes. He’d even begun repairing some of them for her. He may not love her yet, but he cared for her. That was clear in his every deed, no matter what he said to her. She just needed to stay around and let love settle in for him. It had been clear from the first, and she was quicker at determining what was right between them.

That thought brought a smile to her lips.

As she placed Violet on the bed, she noticed a note propped against one of the pillows. READ IMMEDIATELY had been scrawled across the folded front.

Mina’s heart quickened and, despite her resistance to dreading anything before knowing why she should, she ignored the demand and set the note on the table. Violet’s clothes needed changing and change them she would, before doing anything else.

The simple act of settling the lass into bed relieved some of the tension growing inside Mina. Some of it, but not all. ’Tis silly ye are, Mina reprimanded herself silently and grabbed the note. She turned down the light and made her way through the dark to Briar’s room.

A quick glance told her that he’d been just as thoughtful to her, but her own meal could wait. Read immediately kept echoing in her mind and felt as if it were branding the skin against her pocket where the missive now rested. She took out the note and unfolded it.

Received a telegram from Nathaniel. He and his bride are arriving tomorrow. They’ll need to stay at the house until either they or I can make other arrangements. I thought you might want to clear your things out and put them in Violet’s room. You can bunk in with her once they return.

The mayor’s got the whole town in an uproar making glad-to-meet-you preparations for some film star that’s passing through on the eastbound, so I’ll be busy decorating the depot. Don’t know when I can check back again.

But I know I’ve left Violet in good hands.

Hope you were doing something you both enjoyed tonight. We’ll talk about all that’s gone on the past few days. I’ve been grouchy. I was just worried you’d take it on yourself to show Violet the graveyard. It’s the one thing I couldn’t forgive if you did.

– Briar

Mina’s legs felt as if they were stuck in quicksand. She sank onto the bed. “Saints and begorra,” she whispered aloud, “I’ve done it this time.”

If only she could turn back the clock a couple of hours. She stared at the note as if it were Briar and he could answer the question that exited from her lips as little more than a squeak, “Any graveyard?”

Chapter 12

Both of their duties that morning had kept them so busy, there’d been no time for Mina to find out the repercussions of the note. He’d asked her to listen to the wire all shift so that he could do the myriad of tasks required of preparing for the film star’s arrival. When he told Mina that Violet could help some of the other children pick flowers they wanted to offer Chaplin, she’d almost insisted that the lass remain with her. She didn’t want to take the chance of Violet telling her father where she’d spent the previous evening until Mina had time to explain it to him herself.

All day long the station filled with journalists, the mayor and city officials positioning themselves for front row view of the celebrity. Kaira Corbett, one of the women of the press, insisted that the station clock be set exactly with the one on the courthouse so all their clocks were synchronized and the band could start up a minute before the eastbound’s arrival.

Much to Mina’s surprise, wires started coming in from all points. Wires that had nothing to do with the constant chatter on the wire about Chaplin’s impending visits along the rail line.

Briar had apparently sent a message to every telegrapher in range asking them to find out her mother’s location, including visiting their local cemetery. One of them had found her.

Mina began to cry as she transcribed the dots and dashes.

Buried in Charleston, S.C. Stop. Nothing but her name, dates of birth and death listed on tombstone. Stop. Born, May 23, 1876. Died, May 24, 1892. Stop.

Her mother had been barely sixteen years old, and she’d died two months after Mina’s birth. She must have been sick, sick and scared. She must have done the only thing she could do, leave her infant with its father. An act of love far greater than Mina ever dreamed possible. An act only someone who truly loved her child would be brave enough to do.

Forgive me, Mother. Mina willed her thoughts to heaven, knowing her mother now abided with Violet’s. ’Tis I who should ask yer forgiveness.

She would have to thank Briar for what he’d done. For setting her past to rights. For caring enough to know she could never truly be happy anywhere until she knew.

Sam interrupted her. “Briar sent me in to give you a break. Said you’d been at the wire long enough.”

Briar. The celebration. Nathaniel. Mina’s mind had to focus on the tasks at hand. What a time for Nathaniel to bring home a bride. The couple would arrive on the train that followed Chaplin’s and everyone in town would be so exhausted from all the day’s events to give their own a rousing welcome home.

Mina decided she would use some of the flour she’d found and bake them a pie. As she passed the decorated tables and streamers that hung from the ceiling welcoming Chaplin, she realized baking a pie would be about as useless as trying to convince Briar to take a break. The tables were laden with every baked good imaginable.

The least she could do was take Briar a glass of something cold. That is, if she could find him.

She stepped out of the door and almost had to fight her way through the surging throng of people. The brass buttons of the constables’ uniforms gleamed in the sun, pinpointing the amount of law enforcement called in to control the crowd. How was Briar getting anything done? she wondered, having to bite back a flair of temper that erupted any time she couldn’t move as quickly as she preferred.

“Enough of that, you boys! Violet, drop that pie now or I’ll send you back to Mina and you won’t get to help the other children.”

Mina forced her way through the onlookers so she could take the children off Briar’s hands. Where were the other parents and why weren’t they watching them?

A pie flew through the air narrowly missing Mina’s head. The sound of several thuds warned that others had been thrown as well.

“Uh-oh,” a tiny voice exclaimed and then yelled, “Scram!” and something else too quick for Mina to decipher.

All of a sudden miniature bodies sliced through the crowd, dodging in and out from adult entrapment. Mina recognized the ebony curls headed her way and grabbed just as Violet tried to rush past. “All right, lassie. That will be enough. Stand and take yer comeuppance like the suffragette ye want to be. Time to do a wee bit of suffering for a good cause.”

“But Daddy’s going to whoop me good this time.”

Eyes the color of twilight rounded in a look so pleading, Mina had to hide the amusement that threatened to override her disappointment with the child’s actions. “I’ve not seen him take a hand to ye in all my time here. But ye owe him an apology, and an apology ye’ll give him, else take ye home I will. Ye’ll march straight to yer room and think about the extra work ye’ve put on yer poor da in cleaning up those pies.”

“Oh, all right, but I don’t really want to.”

“Ye really have to. So be done with it.”

Despite her reluctance, Violet turned around and headed back to Briar. Mina followed making sure that she didn’t veer from her obligation.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll help you clean up the pie.”

“Why did you throw it after I asked you not to?” Exasperation and something else filled his tone. Exhaustion.

“Here, let me help,” Mina offered, grabbing one of the rags he’d been using to wipe the benches set up for the elderly. Egg whites sprinkled the backs of several of them. The platform would have to be washed clean or someone would trip.

“Answer me, Violet. Why did you throw that pie?” Briar was not letting Violet off with just an apology.

“Jimmy called me a liar, so I told him to stop or I’d hit him. You said I couldn’t hit nobody with my fists no more, so I picked up that pie.” Violet shrugged. “I warned him, Daddy, like you always told me. But he called me a liar, liar, has-to-mind-old-man-Briar. You ain’t no old man and I ain’t no liar, so I hit ’im.”

Briar’s eyes closed as he knelt beside his daughter as he, obviously, fought for words of wisdom. “You shouldn’t let someone goad you into not behaving well, Violet. If you react to them, then they’ve won. If you act like it doesn’t matter what they say, then it takes the wind out of their sails. He can’t bother you unless you let him. Understand?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now look at me.” Father stared at daughter. “Why did he call you a liar?”

Violet dared a glance at Mina. “I can’t tell.”

Briar’s gaze met Mina’s. The moment she’d worried about all night and through the day had finally arrived. He was about to learn where she’d taken Violet. She had to face it sometime, and she wouldn’t forego the repercussions at the child’s expense. “Tell him, sweeting. We’ve done no wrong.”

The more Violet said, the redder Briar’s face became. He stood and glared at Mina. “Give me the rag.”

“I want to help. Ye’re tired. Briar, ’tis sorry I am-”

“It’s best you leave.”

Knowing she’d overstepped some boundary he’d not been willing to remove, she asked, “May I have a final word with the lass?”

“You’ve told her enough.”

It took everything within Mina to look one last time at the two faces that had become so beloved. She was not even being given a chance to say a proper good-bye. Mina turned and walked away, flinching as she heard the tiny plea, “Come back, angel. Come back!”

Briar threw the rags into the wash bucket, splattering the floor he’d just cleaned. Damn, but he was mad at himself for sending her away so abruptly. Damn, but she was wrong for having taken Violet to the cemetery without his permission. No matter that it was Boot Hill and not where Katie was buried. Taking her was his choice, his right, his responsibility.

One that you’ve failed at miserably, he reminded himself justifiably. A glance at his child, sitting on the bench weeping her eyes out, only made him feel worse. She apparently was none the worse for the visit to the graveyard, but Mina’s leaving looked like it would make her ill. Already the other eye was swelling to match the bruised one and she kept acting as if she wanted to lose her lunch.

To hell with Chaplin and anything else that needed to be done. He must find Mina and tell her he’d overreacted. That he was tired, and too stubborn for his own good, and, frankly, so in love with her that he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. When all this fanfare for the mayor was over, the three of them would ride out to Katie’s grave and, together, they’d say a proper good-bye.

“Want to go find Mina with me?”

Violet stopped sobbing. “You mean you don’t want her to go away?”

“I just needed time to think, pumpkin. Sometimes men don’t know their own minds,” and hearts, “as you women do.”

An engine whistle blew, signaling the incoming train. The band started up, playing, “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You.” As the train pulled into the station, the waiting crowd surged forward, giving a rousing cheer.

Briar grabbed his daughter’s hand and took advantage of the opening he saw in the pathway. “Let’s check the telegraph office. She knew Sam wanted to meet the man, so she’s probably taken the wire back.”

Sam said he hadn’t seen her.

She wouldn’t have left her post unmanned and wouldn’t have disappointed Sam. She’d obviously left the depot and that meant she’d taken his words to mean something more.

Regret and a pain unlike any he’d ever felt before sent Briar’s fist slamming against the station wall. A bloody swath colored the textured surface as he pulled his hand away and sputtered a mouthful of curses. “What the hell have I done?”

“You hit the wall,” Violet informed.

Briar looked down at his child and began to laugh, her words having more meaning than she could ever imagine. “You’re exactly right, pumpkin. I hit it for sure and it’s all crumbling down around me. Thank God. Do you think you and your pals would want to go on a treasure hunt for me?”

“Yeah, Daddy, what are we looking for?”

“The only treasure I need other than you, little lady…and that’s Mina. I’ll check and see if she’s gone to the house and you and your friends go through the crowd and see if you can spot her. Get her to go to the ticket office with you, if you find her.”

“What if she won’t come with me?”

“Tell her that she can’t go without saying good-bye. It’s not fair.” He knew how Mina would react to that and once she returned, he’d never let her go again.

Briar had never gotten home so fast. Much as he feared, Mina’s valise was gone, and the wedding bowl, completely repaired, had been left on Violet’s bed. The sight of it made the worst of his fears possible. She had given up on him. Mina was saying good-bye.

There was only one place he could think she could go where she might believe no one would find her at the moment. The train itself. Everyone in town would be visiting with Chaplin, but the train would be empty. Briar gathered a deep breath and sprinted down the path he’d just traveled.

Minutes later, he passed Mayor Beasley as His Honor boarded the eastbound. “Have you seen the new telegrapher?”

Beasley shook his head. “No, just your daughter and her cohorts. It seems they’re playing hide and seek inside the cars. Hardly the welcome to give our guest.”

Violet’s presence inside meant she’d traced Mina here somewhere. All of a sudden a small, frazzled-looking man appeared from around the doorway of the Pullman that Briar headed toward. “Good heavens, are those your children?”

“Was one of them a little girl with a black eye?” Briar recognized the film star from the playbills the mayor had shown him.

“Indeed.”

“She’s mine. They in your car?”

“Yes, and I’m afraid they’re trying to, how do you say it in Texas, lassue a most becoming blond woman.”

“She’s mine, too,” Briar informed, making sure the man whose reputation with women preceded him knew that Mina was off limits.

“Lucky man.” Chaplin straightened his necktie and glanced at Briar in askance. “Do I look like a man with something profound to say?”

Briar laughed. “Don’t worry. This isn’t a lynch crowd. They’ll love whatever you tell them.”

“Good, I never know for certain what mood I’m to be met with. I rather enjoy preaching to the already devoted.”

Mayor Beasley must have caught sight of his hero, for his voice came barreling over the crossover that linked the two cars. “Welcome on behalf of the children of our fair city and please be our guest at supper during your stay.”

The door to the Pullman swung open. A disheveled Mina stood in the entrance, surrounded by a dozen little hands locked around her arms and legs. “Ye wanted me for something?” she asked in exasperation.

“That I do. Now if you children will leave Miss McCoy and me alone for a while so I can apologize and tell her everything I want from her.”

“Does that mean y’all are gonna kiss again?” Violet looked up at her father and grinned.

Briar’s eyes met Mina’s. “I hope so.”

“You gonna let him kiss ya, angel?”

“Depends on just how sorry he is.” Mina smiled in return.

“Oh he said he was a pretty sorry-son-of-a-”

“Violet, don’t repeat that!” Briar’s hand clamped over Violet’s mouth until he realized it still smarted something fierce from the blow against the wall. Little ears sure had big mouths to go with them.

“Well, you said it, Daddy.”

“Go play. Go toss pies at each other. Better yet, go keep Chaplin busy for a good thirty minutes or so. I think I need to repair the door to his Pullman for him.”

“Aye, lass.” The honey-colored eyes filled with a look that sent Briar’s blood to heating. “Tell him something’s wrong with the latch. And tell him ’tis an hour it might take. A slow hand is needed for this repair. Tell Charlie ’tis a lengthy time we’ll be needing.”

Her gaze traveled a slow path from the tip of his head, down to boldly admire places that would have to play hide-and-seek themselves if she didn’t turn off that come-hither smile. Briar blushed for the first time in twenty-seven years.

When the children raced past, she swung the door to the Pullman open and laughed that all-engaging snort he’d fallen in love with the first time he heard it.

“Must be the devil’s own deception. ’Tis not a bit unhinged,” she teased.

Briar pulled Mina into his arms. “No, but I am, my angel, and I need you to teach me how to fix what I didn’t even know was broken inside me. Forgive me. Marry me. Stay with me tonight and every night hereafter.”

“I will,” she whispered against his lips, “until ye show me every shade of sunrise in yer arms.”