Nodding with a shy smile to a passerby, Mary continued on to her morning job, that of caregiver for Finn and Charise Maynard’s children—Oliver, Larry, Sammy Z, and baby Leona. She watched the children while Charise attended to her fledgling seamstress shop, housed in the large front room on the second floor of the old Lone Tree Saloon, which was now Finn’s barber shop. Mary kept the children occupied until it was time to help Charise prepare lunch, get the children fed, and then get them down for their naps before cleaning up the kitchen. Sometimes she would stay and assist Charise in the shop, but oftentimes she would take her leave to do what she wanted until her shift at the restaurant began that evening.

  Thinking of the restaurant, and specifically her boss, Mr. Huber, brought a smile to Mary’s face as she walked along the several blocks it took to get to the main part of town. He had been so kind and accommodating since he had found out about Mary’s condition, and he vowed to give her only the simplest of jobs, such as taking orders and washing dishes, and relieving her of lifting and carrying the heavy serving trays.

  Mr. Huber had been the first resident Mary and Doc Reeves had tried out the marriage fable on, and he had bought the whole kit and caboodle. They’d hit a rough patch when he asked about the date of the happy occasion, but Mary had managed to change the subject with a distraction. She felt excruciatingly bad about deceiving the man, and avoided answering direct questions as much as she could. Her papa had been a stickler for honesty, and had taught her and her brother to always be truthful, so the lie pinched like a cocklebur in a corset.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Christiansen,” Sheriff Plasters, who had as an afterthought been informed of the situation, tipped his Stetson as he passed. Mary managed a choked reply and put her head down as she continued walking.

  Oh my Lord, will I ever get accustomed to hearing that? Well…I suppose I won’t need to get too accustomed to it, since I’ll go back to being Mary Robinson in a matter of months, although that will mean my child’s name will differ from mine…. That thought, and what she would tell the people of the town, made Mary’s stomach begin to feel queasy again, so she quickly averted her thinking to more pleasant subjects.

  This afternoon, she and Pauline had plans to go over Mary’s wardrobe and see what they could do about getting, altering, or possibly making, several serviceable dresses with room to accommodate Mary’s soon-to-be larger shape.

  Thinking of that, Mary felt her face heat at the shame of finding herself with child—and by a man she couldn’t stand. Ahh, but I must think of it as Doc Reeves says…the baby is mine. What was that Bible verse Pastor McKnight read during his sermon on Sunday…? She pursed her lips and racked her brain to remember, as it had greatly moved her and she had written it down in the journal Pauline had encouraged her to start keeping—one, for practice in penmanship, and two, because it was nice to be able to look back on your thoughts and feelings during a transitional time in your life.

  Ah yes…in the book of Jeremiah… “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart.” God already knows this baby. She…or he…will be my child and I will give it all of the love and care that’s within my power to give. His…or her…name will be Christiansen. What a nice name that is. My baby will wear the name proudly. Maybe…maybe I won’t have to give the name up. When the time comes, maybe Dwight and I can just get a divorce, but I can keep the name… It won’t exactly be like a real divorce…in the eyes of God, I mean, since he and I were never really married...

  She shook her head at the perplexing situation, and, for good measure, the thoughts of her husband as well. However, she couldn’t help but wonder what Dwight was doing that day. Did he have a lot of fares for his taxi? Was it as hot in Louisville in August as it was here in Brownville? Did he wonder anything about her? She hoped he was well, and happy. For a man to do what he had done for her, he must be a special kind of person. Pauline said he was. It still amazed her that he would do such a thing for a person—well, two people he didn’t even know—and she whispered a quick prayer that he would be blessed in return.

  Just then, she arrived at the building on Main that used to be the Lone Tree Saloon. Smiling, she recalled the story Charise and Finn had told her when she’d first come to work for them. It seems Jesse James, the famous outlaw, had declared the place his favorite watering hole whenever he was in Nebraska—and had even shown up at their wedding reception! Talk about a memorable occasion!

  Ah well. As they say…truth is stranger than fiction at times.

  Hours later, Mary examined a few yards of leftover muslin as she sipped on a glass of sweetened, ice-cold lemonade—made wondrously possible due to the Lone Tree’s large ice room deep in the cool of the cellar. Charise had volunteered to pitch in to help make maternity dresses for Mary, and had even offered a few leftover fabrics for which she had no definite plans.

  “I have a bodice that I’d made for Rachael McKnight, the pastor’s wife, a few years ago, but it didn’t fit her quite right and we decided to change it out for another design. I’ve been wondering what to do with it,” Charise said as she removed an article from a large cupboard.

  Unfolding it, she held it up for Mary to see. Its design was that of a thigh length caraco jacket in a blue and green floral pattern. The three-quarter sleeves had white lace peeking out of the cuffs, and in place of a stomacher was a draping of matching lace, which could modestly conceal her growing belly and could be secured below her bosom with a simple brooch.

  “You could wear it like a jacket with a solid green or blue skirt. The way lace drapes, no one will be the wiser, and it will extend as much as you need. And if you’re anything like me, you’ll need it,” Charise added with a twinkle in her lovely, brown eyes as she patted her abdomen, still somewhat plump after the birth of her most recent child a month before.

  Mary met her older friend’s eyes and felt herself blush. She couldn’t help but say, “Charise…thank you so much for…well, for how nice you’ve been to me…especially after you found out about my, well…” she paused and gestured with a hand in the direction of her yet flat belly.

  Charise offered an understanding smile and leaned forward to clasp Mary’s hand. Mary felt another pinch in her conscience that Charise wasn’t fully informed of what she was being understanding about. “No need to thank me, hon. We ladies should stick together, you know? The men…well, they do what they want and go on their merry way sometimes, not thinking what they’ve left behind. And honey, I know what it’s like to get with child at the drop of a hat. Why, all my Finn has to do is give me that wink and a kiss and it seems like I’m increasing again!” she shook her head with a chuckle. “Oliver arrived exactly nine months and two days after our wedding night. Well…after our real wedding night. I was a proxy bride—kind of like Pauline. Except that Finn and I had been writing one another and had planned to marry, only he was injured before he could come to Louisville to marry me, so he sent his brother, Sam, in his place. I used to tease them and say I had two husbands…I still do occasionally, when I want to see Finn get that look in his eyes and get all flustered like a jealous husband,” she finished, again emitting happy chuckles.

  Mary laughed along with her friend and employer before they both looked over at the door as Pauline entered.

  “What’s funny, ladies?” she asked, her beautiful smile making her face almost seem ethereal in Mary’s estimation.

  “I was just sharing with Mary how easy it is for some of us married ladies to find ourselves in the family way,” Charise confided, with a wink to Mary. Then she pointed at Pauline with the handle end of a pair of shears and added, “You’ll be next, my Louisville friend, mark my words.”

  Turning back to the cupboard, she remarked over her shoulder, “Mary, I bet your husband was fit to be tied when he found out you’d been attacked by that horrid outlaw, Hobbs, cutting your leg and stealing your money and all. I suppose it’s a credit to our sheriff and deputies that Dwight was able to go back to Louisville after Pauline’s wedding and not throw you over his shoulder and take you with him. What sort of a job does he have that you can’t join him, by the way?” she asked as an aside, her mind obviously only half on the conversation as she rooted around.

  Mary’s heart jumped into a full gallop and she turned wide, pleading eyes to Pauline for help. This conversation proved that keeping this secret would be more difficult than any of them had imagined. But her friend merely gave a slight shake of her head and, sidestepping the last question, answered the former statement. “Yes, it was difficult for him. But I don’t look for him to stay away long.”

  What in the world? Why did she say that? Mary’s heart thumped hard with the compounded lies being spun. Lord, forgive us all! Nothing good ever comes from a web of lies, she agonized.

  With their host’s attention still distracted, Pauline signaled for Mary to come with her. “Mary, honey,” she said aloud, “I went off and completely forgot that skirt I’d told you about. It’s in my room over at the boarding house. Come with me and let me know if you want it, alright?” She again signaled by jerking her head toward the door. “We’ll come right back. Is that all right, Charise?”

  “Sure thing,” the seamstress’ muffled voice acknowledged. Her head was deep in the cupboard and only a brief wave of her hand showed around the door, sending them on their way. “I’ll keep looking for that piece of dimity I told you about, Mary,” she added, her voice still muffled. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  Pauline grabbed Mary’s hand and practically dragged her out the door. Being careful not to wake any of the sleeping Maynard children, they quickly tiptoed to the backdoor and spilled down the steps of the back porch, and over to the surrounding crescent line of woods so they could speak in privacy.

  “Pauline, what was that all about?” Mary asked once they stopped. She bent over a bit with her hands on her knees, unusually winded.

  Pauline looked around and spotted a fallen log, then grabbing Mary’s sleeve, she dragged her over to it.

  “Pebs, w…what in the world?” Mary sputtered as she lowered herself onto its surface with Pauline plopping down next to her.

  “Hold onto your bonnet, my friend. There’s been a change in plans.”

  Panic arced through Mary like a lightning bolt. “What change?” she squeaked; her eyes rounded as they collided with Pauline’s.

  “Charlie delivered this to me today with overflowing apologies. Seems he received it four days ago and it somehow fell behind something or other at the depot. He found it this morning,” she said as she handed Mary an opened envelope that was a bit soiled, as if it had, indeed, had rough treatment.

  Examining the return address, Mary saw that it was from Pauline’s mother, Pearl, in Louisville.

  “A letter from your mother?” she asked, not understanding the urgency.

  “Yes, from Mama. But it’s what the letter says that’s the kicker.”

  Mary fixed her nervous gaze on Pauline’s unblinking, brown eyes. “Just tell me, Pebs, you’re scaring me!”

  She watched her friend swallow, take a breath, and blurt, “Dwight is coming here, Mary. Mama says some girl in Louisville has been harassing him, trying to get him to marry her or something, I don’t know. But she won’t leave him alone, and she’s been making trouble for him with his employer. So, Elvira Fetterman…you remember her?”

  Mary, in spite of her heart pounding with the news, managed a strangled sounding snort. “Who could forget her?”

  Pauline let out a chuckle. “Yes, true. Well, she’s my mama’s employer, and she’s from Brownville, remember, and she decided to come here for a few weeks to visit her family. She’s asked Mama and my sisters to come, too. Anyway, Dwight is coming with them!”

  “But…but I thought…I mean, I didn’t th…think that we…oh goodness, I can’t even talk!” Mary squealed, placing her hands on her cheeks. “Pebs! What am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. But…we don’t have much time to make a plan. The letter says they will be arriving August second. That’s tomorrow!”

  Mary moaned with sheer dread and misery. “What next? Now, how am I supposed to act around him? Everyone in town…what will they think? Here’s this husband of mine who is supposed to be working somewhere that I couldn’t join him. Now…he’s coming here? People will expect us to act like a married couple! Does he realize that? A married couple expecting a baby! Oh, what a mess. What an awful, confusing, terrible mess!” she wailed as tears filled her eyes.

  Pauline, instantly realizing the news was upsetting Mary more than she had anticipated, switched gears and slipped her arm comfortingly around Mary’s back.

  “Oh, what’s wrong with me, upsetting you like this?” she fussed at herself. “Everything will be fine, Mary. We’ll meet him—them—at the train, and whisk them directly to Doc’s house. Doc will straighten everything out. Don’t worry.”

  Mary swallowed hard and swiped at her tears with her fingertips as she met her friend’s eyes. She shook her head slowly. An ominous cloud seemed to be hovering over her head and shoulders. “Pebs, I have a bad feeling about this. Papa always said don’t tell a lie, because you have to tell ten others to get out of that one, and then before you know it, all heck breaks loose and you can’t remember what you’ve told who.”

  Pauline pressed her lips together for a moment before reluctantly nodding her head. “Normally I would agree. Especially since it’s one of the ten commandments and all. You know I don’t usually tell lies of any kind…but this time, the fault lies squarely on Doc’s shoulders—although I do admit that I chose to go along with him, to my everlasting shame. But, he’s the one who came up with this harebrained scheme—and he’s the one who will just have to keep that cat firmly in the bag.”

  With a decisive nod, Pauline stood and reached down to grasp Mary’s hands and tug her to her feet.

  “Let’s go find him right now and tell him the exciting news, shall we?”

  Chapter 5

  D wight picked up his large portmanteau and hat from the seat beside him, already rising to his feet before the train even came to a full stop at the Brownville Depot. He was immensely grateful to have finally reached their destination after five days of travel.

  “Lloyd, Jr., now you help keep your brothers and sisters in line,” said a voice that grated on his nerves worse than a squeaky wagon wheel. “And children, you all be very good and Mama will give you that treat we talked about—now, stop that, Louisa! Frederick, Charles, Tabitha, Franklin, Jeremy, you sit down right there and wait for us. Frederick, stop pulling Tabitha's hair. Charles, give that back to your brother. If I’ve told you children once, I’ve told you a thousand times, one must be—oh, Olivia! Grab Matilda for me and—Pearl, oh, be a dear and stop Harriet from putting that dirty old toy in her mouth,” the voice went on and on, over the top of the children's shrieks, like an unstoppable steam engine at full speed, barreling down a steep grade. The woman’s eight children, including three-year-old male triplets, who were the worst, were doing what they always did—causing mischief, mayhem, and downright chaos, just for the fun of it.

  Great Caesar’s ghost—one more hour in the company of Elvira Fetterman and her brood of little monsters and I might go stark raving mad!

  More than once, he had gotten roped into helping corral the little beasts, and had been bitten, kicked in the shins, his hair pulled, and milk spilled on his best suit—for all his efforts. One thing this trip had accomplished, however, was that his respect and admiration for the seemingly unending patience of his own mother had risen one hundred-fold. She had been amazing. Olivia had been no lollygagger herself, but none could hold a candle to Pearl’s graceful composure.

  Setting his feet against the train’s movement, he placed one hand on the back of the seat directly ahead and bent to peer out of one of the dusty windows across the aisle as the depot came into view. The release of the excess steam erupted in a loud, vision-clouding hiss.

  I sure hope this was a good idea coming here. I have a feeling this situation…this “marriage” is going to be a constant juggling act to keep this secret from getting out. And Elvira Fetterman knows about it! For cryin’ out loud, how in the world is this going to work? If ever there was a person who couldn’t keep a secret, it’s that woman! For a second, Dwight was almost overcome with an urge to stay on the train and go back down the spur line to Nebraska City—and parts unknown.

  Just then, however, he caught sight of Doc Reeves, Pauline, and Mary, standing on the platform anxiously scanning the windows of the car. His heart surprised him by doing a little jig.

  As the train rolled into position for the passengers to alight onto the wooden deck, Mary’s searching eyes found and locked with his, and his heart jostled again. Her look of dread and well-nigh terror jarred something unexpected in the center of his chest. In an instant, he went from wanting to tear off and run to very nearly being bowled over by a sudden fierce desire to protect her from anything and anyone who might try to hurt her.

  Son of a gun, where did that come from, he pondered as he pressed a hand against his chest in reaction to the physical sensation. Slightly rattled, he gave his head a firm shake before standing straight and slamming his hat on his head.

  He was already at the top of the steps when the conductor placed the small stool on the platform, and he heard Pauline call, “Dwight!” She was waving at him and smiling, while Mary stood silently at her side, the look of trepidation on her face unchanged.

  He stepped down, and was immediately bumped from behind as several of the Fetterman progeny began pushing and shoving their way off of the train.

  Gripping his portmanteau, Dwight threaded his way through the thickening press of people waiting to board, along with those getting off the train from Nebraska City, to where the older gentlemen and two young women were standing near the building.

 

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