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  After feeding Caroline, she placed her in the basket and with the shotgun securely tucked along her side, she climbed up onto the front seat. Nate glanced over and smiled. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the shotgun out, and placed it squarely in Nate’s chest “Turn this wagon around. Now.”

  Nate’s surprised look was very satisfying. After his initial reaction, however, he reached out to push it aside. “Now, Emma, you need to be careful with that thing. You might hurt someone.”

  “I intend to hurt you if you don’t turn this wagon around.” She narrowed her eyes and regarded him over the top of the gun. All her fear had turned to anger, and now she was determined to protect her daughter and get them back where they belonged. Now and forever.

  “You don’t know the first thing about guns. Now put it down before you get hurt.”

  She moved the gun away from his chest, aimed for the branch of a passing tree, eased the trigger back as Davis had taught her, and cleanly picked off a small branch.

  A startled Nate pulled up on the reins and looked at her with slackened jaw. “What has happened to you? You used to be such a sweet little girl.”

  “Life happened to me, Nate.” She leaned back against the side of the wagon, and turned the gun back on him. “I’m not longer a ‘girl.’ I’m a grown woman with a husband whom I love and who loves me. We have a life, and a beautiful daughter. Now turn this wagon around. I want to go back to my home. I have no intention of going to Indiana with you. This shotgun has one more shot in it, and I will use it if I have to.”

  * * *

  Davis had spent hours on the main street, talking to all the storekeepers, trying to get a hint of what could have happened to his family. Meanwhile, the sheriff was questioning anyone he did not personally know.

  Davis glanced up at the sun, high in the sky, causing shadows to disappear, and encouraging most people to head home for noon time dinner. He hadn’t turned up anything yet, and was left frustrated and discouraged.

  “Hey, Abe,” Davis addressed the livery owner, “I have a missing wife and daughter and so far I’m coming up empty. The sheriff and I have been questioning everyone with no luck. Have you seen Emma yesterday or today?”

  “Oh, sorry, no I haven’t seen your wife in weeks. How long have they been missing?”

  “She was home yesterday at dinner time, but when I got back to the house for supper, she and baby were gone. I’ve talked to all her friends, but no one knows anything.”

  Abe scratched his almost bald head and shook it. “Gee, I sure wish I could help you out. Too bad you hadn’t asked me yesterday, because that man who comes from Emma’s town has been in and out of here regular like. He might have been able to help, but he just left Oregon City, heading back to Indiana, I think he said.”

  * * *

  Davis’s ears immediately picked up, and his heart thudded. “Who? You mean Nate? Nate Hale?”

  “Yeah, that’s the guy. He’s been bugging me for weeks to find a wagon for him. He was planning on going back east, and said he needed one big enough for him and a couple passengers. He was anxious to join the wagon train leaving down near the Columbia River, but I only found the wagon for him a couple of days ago. I’m pretty sure he’s gone by now.”

  “Going east?” Davis squeaked out.

  “Sure. A lot of folks don’t like it once they get here. They find out it isn’t what they were expecting, and a couple times a year you’ll find a group heading back.” He chuckled, obviously unsure what wasn’t to like about Oregon.

  “Do you happen to know which way he was headed to meet up with this group?” His heart raced, sure he’d hit on what had happened.

  “Yeah, pretty much follow the road out of town, and you’ll hit the road you came in on. Eventually, it reaches the Columbia River.”

  Davis backed away. “Thanks, Abe. You’ve been a big help.”

  He strode outside and headed toward the mercantile before the man had finished speaking.

  Davis mind was in a whirl. A wagon train going east? Could Emma have planned to go back to Indiana with Nate? Then his blood turned to ice when he remembered the letter from her parents. What was in that letter? Did they say something that made her want to go back?

  After giving brief details to the Bergers, Davis picked up a few supplies, loaded them into his saddlebags and took off. If Emma was indeed leaving him, he had to hear it from her first hand. He couldn’t believe she would go off and not even leave a note. Didn’t she realize how much he loved her?

  Why would she? You’ve never told her.

  About four hours later, Davis spotted a lone wagon in the distance. It seemed to be coming toward him, though. He squinted in the sunlight and tried to figure out who was driving. He could clearly see a man, but he seemed to be alone. Nudging his horse, he picked up speed.

  * * *

  Emma sat in the back of the wagon changing Caroline, the shotgun within reach. As long as Nate kept going in this direction, she felt comfortable taking care of the baby. As she buttoned up her dress, she heard shouting in front of them. Soon rapid hoof beats joined the shouting. Shock gripped her stomach as she heard Davis’s voice calling her.

  “Davis, I’m here.” She yelled as she climbed up on the front of the wagon seat.

  “Nate, stop the wagon,” she ordered. As soon as the wagon slowed, she gathered her skirts and jumped down the same time Davis vaulted off his horse. Emma ran to him and threw herself into his waiting arms.

  “Davis, oh God, I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Emma, what are you doing here? Why are you traveling with Nate?”

  “Just hold me,” she gasped.

  Davis held her so tight she found it hard to get a breath, but as long as she had him, there was no need for air.

  After a few minutes, he put his hands on her shoulders and eased her back. He wiped the tears from her eyes. “Why, honey? Why are you here with him?”

  “I want to go h-h-home.” Her voice shook as she sobbed.

  All the blood seemed to leave his face. He licked his dry lips. “So you’re going back to Indiana?”

  Emma regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Indiana?” She barely choked out the word. “No, you fool.” She elbowed him. “I want to go home with you. To our home that you built with your own hands. Where I gave birth to our daughter.”

  His shoulders slumped and he pulled her against him, crushing her breasts to his rock hard chest. “Emma,” he said smiling down at her with shining eyes, “I love you so much.”

  She cupped his beloved face. “And I love you, too.”

  He glanced up and his jaw tightened. “Darlin’, I think you and I need to have a conversation about what went on here.” He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and moved her aside. “But right now you’ll have to excuse me. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

  He stalked over to Nate and grabbing him by the collar, dragged him from the wagon bench. One punch to the jaw, and Nate went down, landing on his bottom.

  Holding his chin, he rubbed it and looked up at Davis. “I guess I deserved that. I’m really sorry. I thought I was doing what Emma wanted.” Slowly he got up, giving Davis wide berth.

  “This is the absolute last time I’m saying this, Hale. Keep the hell away from my wife. If I see you on our property, I’ll shoot first and ask why later.”

  Davis, Emma and Caroline returned in the wagon. Davis wanted to leave Nate standing where he was, but Emma convinced him to give Nate one of the horses from the team so he could return to Oregon City.

  Rocking gently on the front of the wagon seat, holding the baby close, Emma explained what had happened. Davis threw his head back and roared with laughter when she told him about holding the shotgun on Nate.

  “Honey, you are truly a western gal now.” He put his arm around her, pulling her head down to his chest.

  Caroline gurgled and waved her arms and legs as the Cooper family headed up the road. Hours later as the wagon crested the hill, Emma ki
ssed the top of Caroline’s soft curls and gazed lovingly at the snug white house where her journey ended.

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  “Darlin’, you’ll never guess who just opened up a gunsmith shop in Oregon City.”

  Emma glanced up from where she bent over Caroline’s plate, cutting a slice of meatloaf. She broke a biscuit in half and handed a piece to thirteen month old Davy, who watched every move she made. “Who?”

  “Your old friend, Nathan Hale.”

  She stood and rubbed her aching back. If this baby didn’t come soon, she’d have to do as Mae said and start scrubbing floors and walls to get things moving. “My goodness. I haven’t thought of him in ages.” She took a seat at the table and placed meatloaf and mashed potatoes on her plate.

  “Is that all you’re going to eat?” Davis nodded at her scant plate.

  “I’m not very hungry, and my back’s been killing me all day.”

  He laid his fork down and regarded her, his face paling. “You feeling all right?”

  “Fine.” She waved a dismissal. “I hope Nate’s doing well. He was always so nice. What he did was so strange, and so unlike him.”

  Davis continued to watch Emma as if she would explode any minute. Reaching across the table, he wiped Caroline’s mouth with her napkin. “I didn't speak with him, but from what I’ve heard he’s married with a son, and another child on the way.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I’m happy for him.” She bolted upright and grabbed her stomach as a pain shot from her back to her front. “Oh, dear.”

  “I knew it!” Davis yelled, shoving his chair back.

  The End

  Turn the page to read An Angel in the Mail

  .

  An Angel in the Mail

  About the Book

  In 1861, newly bankrupt society princess Angel Hardwick has just been told by her stepmother that she will be traveling to Oregon as a mail order bride. Her groom is Nathan Hale, father of five, who is desperate for a wife to straighten his life out. Nate’s looking for someone who loves children and can easily take over the cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Instead, he is getting Angel, whose culinary knowledge consists of weekly meetings with Cook to decide the family’s menu.

  Angel, a strong-minded young woman, is resigned to her fate and determined to make the best of her situation. But will her new husband allow for mistakes? Or will he send her packing when she burns meals and misplaces his children?

  Nate just wants a peaceful, well-run household, without the distraction of an attractive wife. However, his beautiful wife with a very distractible body is not giving him peace. Somebody lied, because despite what he was told by the Bride Agency, this beauty knows nothing about running a home, but she sure sets him on fire at night.

  To survive, Nate and Angel have to come to a working arrangement, but will they be able to find a happily ever after with someone working behind the scenes to destroy their budding relationship?

  1

  April, 1861

  New York City, New York

  Angel Hardwick checked her image in the elaborate gilded mirror hanging over her dresser, and smoothed a few stray hairs out of place. She glanced down and frowned at her black bombazine dress. It was slightly wrinkled, but she had no time to deal with it. A swift tug at the cuffs of her sleeves, and she was ready to meet her stepmother. As ready as she could be with a nervous stomach causing jolts of pain.

  Sylvia Hardwick had sent a summons for Angel to meet her in the library. The two women had a cordial, if not close relationship, but in the few months since Gerald Hardwick’s death, things had become strained. Sylvia walked around with a pinched look on her face, oftentimes taking to her bed in the afternoon, having her maid bring a cool cloth sprinkled with lavender for her headache. When Angel inquired after her health, Sylvia merely sighed and turned away.

  Apparently Sylvia was finally ready to share her troubles. Something was up, and Angel didn’t think it would be good news. As she descended the stairs, various catastrophes ran through her mind. She shrugged. Since Papa was already dead, surely there couldn’t be anything worse.

  Perhaps Sylvia wanted to talk about Angel’s latest milliner bills. She’d noticed the lack of favorite foods at the dinner table, and Sylvia’s sighs when the morning post arrived, laden with bills. There had been numerous meetings with Papa’s attorneys behind closed doors, but Angel couldn’t imagine money being the problem. Papa had been wealthy.

  As she approached the open library door, she took a deep breath.

  “Come in, Angelina.” Sylvia waved her scented handkerchief under her nose. “Don’t linger in doorways, it’s not ladylike.”

  Still an attractive woman at forty-two, Sylvia’s blonde hair, pulled straight back from her face in a tight bun, gave her a somewhat Oriental look, although her light blue eyes belied any association with an Asian culture. She had high cheekbones, a rounded jaw, and perfectly straight white teeth.

  Her black dress clung to her well-defined curves. While Angel appeared drawn and tired in black, mourning clothes looked striking on Sylvia. Posture perfect, her spine never touching the back of a chair, her stepmother was the picture of ladylike decorum.

  Sylvia’s delicate hands fiddled with the handkerchief in her lap, twisting the scrap of linen and lace. She attempted a smile, but never quite made it. Angel’s sense of unease increased. Sylvia was very nervous.

  “You wished to see me?” Angel settled on the stiff, high-back chair across from the fireplace.

  This room had been Papa’s favorite place. Many times in her years growing up, she and Papa would sit by the fireplace in the evening and read. When she was younger, he’d read to her, and as her skills improved, she’d read to him. They shared a love of the same authors, so it was not a problem to select a book for them to enjoy together. The room never seemed the same with him gone.

  “Yes, Angelina.” Sylvia waved the twisted handkerchief around again. “There are matters we must discuss. They relate to your father’s estate.”

  Legal matters beyond her, Angel waited patiently as her stepmother composed herself.

  “While your father was ill, he left the operation of the bank to his assistant, Mr. Reynolds.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Had I been aware of this, I would have taken steps. However, your father never confided in me about his business.” Her words dripped with derision, but she left unsaid what steps she would have taken.

  “What I’m trying to tell you is this.” Sylvia paused to take a dainty sip of the cooling cup of tea on the table next to her. “When your father died, questions about illegal transactions arose and ultimately, missing deposits were discovered. Large deposits, from wealthy customers. Consequently, the bank was no longer solvent. Now the attorneys tell me your father’s personal assets must cover these discrepancies.” She finished the last part in a breathless rush.

  Angel didn’t grasp what she meant, yet the pain in her stomach had grown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what this all means. If Mr. Reynolds was in charge, why would Papa be in trouble?”

  “Because Mr. Reynolds brought papers to your father to sign, which he did because he trusted the man. The police tell me Mr. Reynolds has apparently vanished.”

  Sylvia closed her eyes briefly. “What I’m doing such a bad job of telling you, Angelina . . .” She sighed, touched her handkerchief to her nose. “We are penniless.”

  Angel stared at her stepmother. Obviously, from her strained expression, this was a serious situation. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means we have no money. Nothing. No money, no income.” Sylvia rose and paced in front of the fireplace. “I don’t know how else to put it.” She turned and faced Angel. “The clothes you have on your back and in your closet are the only things you own.”

  This didn’t sound good. Now Angel would have to return the two hats she bought from the milliner just yesterday. And that was a shame, because one of them matched her new walking coat s
o well. “So, what will we do?”

  “Well, as much as I would love to continue to provide for you, I can no longer do that.” Even in her distraught state, Sylvia remained the lady. She turned, back straight, head held high, slender fingers clutching her handkerchief. “I have received an invitation from my sister Louise in Virginia. She has offered me a place in her home.”

  Angel’s head shot up. “I don’t want to live in Virginia. All my friends are here in New York. Surely something that drastic is not necessary.”

  Sylvia stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and rubbed her forehead. “You misunderstand, dear. I’m going to Virginia. There is no room for you. My sister’s home is small, with a limited staff.”

  Dry mouthed, Angel struggled to process this information. “You mean to go to Virginia and leave me alone here? I would be un-chaperoned. My reputation would suffer immensely.” She furrowed her brow. “I don’t think the staff would qualify as chaperones.”

  Sylvia continued her pacing. “No, Angelina. This house is being sold, and after all outstanding debts are settled, there will be just enough money to get me settled in Virginia. I will only be able to bring one lady’s maid with me, which I find most inconvenient.”

  If Sylvia would be traveling with only one lady’s maid, the situation was more dire than Angel realized. Her mind was in a whirl.