A free novella by Paty Jager

After years of being asked to put short stories in various anthologies, I finally put them all together in what I call my Western Duets. 

All of the stories are historical western romance. Some have secondary characters from my historical western romance novels and others were just ideas that crept into my conscience, and I decided to write a short story. 

Some of the stories deal with holidays and some don't. You can find links to the Western Duets at this page on my website: NOVELLA - Mystery and Romance Books - Paty Jager

Here is a short story that is usually given to readers who sign up for my historical western romance newsletter. Today, you get to read the first chapter without having to sign up for anything. And here is the bookfunnel link to download and read the whole thing. http://dl.bookfunnel.com/ul0codovbg

Hettie’s Hero

by Paty Jager

 

Prologue

Washington D.C.

Spring 1889

Caleb Jamison did a final inspection of his suit coat. Not a single politician at the event would find fault with either his dress or his entrance. With Senator Ingall’s beautiful daughter on his arm, he’d not only make a statement that he was worthy of the president pro tempore’s daughter, but he was ready to press his way into the old guard folds of Washington politics.

He snatched up his hat and pulled the door to his boarding house room open. Mrs. Yardley stood across the threshold, her face shiny from the exertion of climbing the stairs to his second-story room.

“This came in the mail for you today.” She held out an envelope. “You snuck in while I was finishing up the preserves.”

He took the offered letter. His stomach twisted as he recognized Edith Johnson’s hand writing.

His landlady’s voice buzzed in his ear as he stared at the missive. Why a letter from the foreman’s wife and not his mother?

A tug on his sleeve jerked his gaze from the writing to the wrinkled face of Mrs. Yardley.

“Where you headed tonight all gussied up?”

“A dinner in honor of Senator Ingalls’ wife’s birthday.” He backed up and shut the door in the woman’s face. Why had Edith written to him? If something happened to Louie his mother would have written. He plopped onto the bed and opened the letter slowly.

The first sentence blurred as he read it.

There’s no easy way to say this.

He rubbed his eyes and continued down the page.

Your ma, pa, and sister took sick three weeks ago. We did all we could. Doc Martin spent three days here trying everything he knew, but in the end the good Lord took them from us.

We know you left here to make things better for the people of Montana, but right now, the Rocking J needs you.

Respectfully,

Edith and Louie

The letter slipped from his fingers. He dropped his head to his hands as a sob barked from his throat. He swiped his eyes, grabbed his satchel, and crammed his clothes inside. The ranch had been his father’s life. Now, it looked like it would be his.

 

 

Chapter One

1890 Montana

Late summer

 

“We’re lost ain’t we?”

“Aunt Hettie, are we lost?”

“No, we are not lost. We’re just temporarily off course.” Hettie Burke tugged on the reins halting the two draft horses hitched to the wagon. She sighed and glanced at her dark-haired six-year-old niece and nephew on the seat beside her. Tommy already had the arrogance and know-it-all attitude of a man, and Sally peered up at her with the same green eyes of her mother, Hettie’s sister. She’d give anything to have her sister and brother-in-law alive and not have the responsibility of getting to her teaching job and being the parent of two children.

The man at the livery in the last town told her to keep heading west and she’d run into a well-traveled trail that would take her to the thriving gold town of Garnet. They had all been headed there when misfortune hit. Robert had been asked to take over the church, and she had the possibility of a teaching job.

Staying due west had proven daunting, and now, as she stayed to the only trail suitable for a wagon, the sun setting in the west was to her left.

“The man said go west.” Tommy pointed to the quickly lowering sun. “West is the direction the sun goes at night.”

“I know, but do you see a road or a way to go straight toward the sun?” Since losing their parents, Tommy had become more incorrigible and Sally more introverted. And Hettie wanted to put her face in her hands and bawl. She was too young to be a parent. She left a beau in Kansas because he wanted to start having a family and she wasn’t ready.

She laughed. Not a sarcastic huff but a hysterical chortle.

“Aunt Hettie, are you all right?” Sally’s small hand patted her arm.

Pull yourself together. You’re all they have. The voice that had been her constant companion since losing Robert and Joan sounded like her mother and always snapped her to attention. She’d never wanted to disappoint her mother.

Laughter and music drifted to her ears.

“Do you hear that?” Tommy asked, leaning forward on the hard, wooden, wagon seat.

“Yes, maybe we can camp by someone tonight and have a little company besides ourselves.” Hettie slapped the reins on the horses’ rumps and followed the road and cheerful sounds, hoping for some adult conversation.

The road curved and out in the middle of a meadow sat three wagons and six tents. Women, dressed in their undergarments or flowing see-through robes, sat on stools talking and laughing while a large man bent at the campfire. The aroma of roasting meat pooled saliva in her mouth. Their supplies were low and since she didn’t have the stomach to kill an animal and Tommy, though he tried, was too young, they’d eaten only beans and biscuits the last two weeks.

The laughter died and all eyes peered at them as she stopped the horses far enough back to avoid tossing dust on the meal.

The only fully clad woman stood and walked forward. “You look like you could use some food and some company.”

Hettie nodded her head as tears burned behind her eyes.

“We’re lost,” Tommy said, staring pointedly at Hettie.

“Now I’m sure your ma knows where she’s going.” The woman motioned to the man at the fire. “Howard, help them down.”

“She ain’t our ma. She’s Aunt Hettie.” Tommy scrambled down from the lofty wagon before the man could help him.

Howard stretched his big bulky arms up to Sally and lifted her off the wagon like plucking an apple from a tree, then held his arms out to Hettie. She fastened the reins around the brake handle like her pa taught her and slid across to the burly man. He winked and smiled before carefully placing his hands at her waist and lifting her down, backing away as soon as her feet hit the dirt.

“Pearl and Ivory, take these two to the barrel and wash them up for dinner.” The woman waved her thin arm toward the children. Two women, both looking younger than Hettie, put an arm around her niece and nephew, leading them to the back of one of the wagons.

“Now, Miss…?”

“Burke. Hettie Burke.” She removed her leather gloves and watched the young women talking with the twins. Though they were dressed indecent, they seemed to be carrying on decent conversation.

The woman reached out and grasped Hettie’s hand. “Miss Burke, Hettie. Your niece and nephew are in good hands. Both Pearl and Ivory come from large families.”

She stared at the thin, short woman. Sparkling bobs hung from her ear lobes, and her dress was cut so low half her full breasts were revealed. She studied the group of women and realized the depravation she’d brought Robert and Joan’s children into.

“Sally, Tommy, get back up on the wagon.”

“But the food smells so good,” Tommy whined.

At that moment her stomach growled.

“You can’t deny yourself or these beautiful children a good meal.” The woman steered her toward a stool and pushed her down on the hard seat.

Hettie started to rise.

The woman’s hand on her shoulder held her on the seat. “If you want to move on after we eat I won’t stop you. But I won’t let your prudishness deprive those children of home cooking.”

“You don’t understand. I’m all they have. I have to make the right decisions and their father, God rest his soul, would not forgive me if I stayed here.”

“He’d want his children fed wouldn’t he?” The woman motioned to Howard, and he dished up plates, handing them to Sally and Tommy.

The delicious aroma of yeast bread, roasted meat, and something tangy drifted to Hettie and her stomach rumbled in appreciation.

“When was the last time you had a meal?” Howard asked, handing her a plate.

“We had cold biscuits this morning,” she said, picking up the rabbit leg with her fingers and biting into the juicy meat.

“I’m Miss Veronica.” The woman accepted a plate from Howard and sat next to her. “How long have you three been traveling alone?”

Hettie chewed and swallowed a couple more bites then wiped her mouth with the cloth Howard handed her.

“Robert and Joan, my sister, passed a month ago. We’ve kept a steady pace since on our way to Garnet. Robert was going to be the new preacher and the city council said I could apply for the teaching position.” She placed a hand on her chest to ease the knot of pain that always swelled when she thought of her sister and brother-in-law’s deaths.

“What happened to their parents?” Miss Veronica asked, nodding in Sally and Tommy’s direction.

“We came upon a small group of wagons about a month and a half ago. They had sickness. Robert said it was his duty to help, and Joan insisted she help as well. They left the kids and I camped within sight of the others but far enough away no one from their camp staggered into ours, and we kept away just like Robert and Joan asked.” She swallowed the painful lump bobbing in her throat. Why did they have to be so self-sacrificing?

“You don’t have to tell us any more, I understand what happened.” Miss Veronica patted her hand. “But why didn’t you go back? Surely you had family you could return to?”

Hettie shook her head. She’d never go back. “Joan and these two are all the family I have. Had.” Now it was just the twins and her. She had to raise her sister’s children. Panic always crept up her throat at the thought. The woman peered at her expectantly. She swallowed the lump and continued, “And we’re closer to Garnet than Kansas.”

“I take it Robert was your brother-in-law? What about his family?” The older woman’s whispered questions didn’t reach the children.

She barely heard them. It surprised her the woman would be that respectful for the children’s sake. She responded in a whisper. “He was the only good one out of his family. The rest are outlaws and drunks. I wouldn’t send a coyote to those people.” She straightened her back and peered at the children, enjoying berry cobbler with cream. It would take her a long time to bring in enough money to provide them with this much bounty in one meal.

The woman tapped her shoulder, gaining her attention. “Let’s take a walk.”

Hettie starred at the children, eating their dessert.

“I’ll save you a helping, Miss Hettie,” Howard said, winking.

She liked the big man and smiled back. “Thank you.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had cobbler with cream. Cream? She hadn’t seen a milk cow tied up anywhere around the camp when they rode in.

The madam linked her arm with Hettie’s, and they wandered away from the chatting group around the fire. The sun had set and the area beyond the wagons grew dark and sinister as she strolled arm in arm with what she now believed was a soiled dove, or so Robert called them.

“Miss Veronica,” she drew her arm from the woman’s. “I appreciate you sharing dinner with us, but we need to move on.”

“No, you don’t. It’s dark and you don’t know what could be lurking out there. You and the children will stay with us until morning. Howard is a wonderful protector, and those children could use one more good meal.”

“I don’t disagree with you there. I haven’t the stomach to shoot an animal so we’ve been living off of biscuits and beans.” She looked back at the cozy setting around the campfire. “But if you’re what I think you are, I can’t have Robert’s children sleeping next to—” she stopped before she put her foot in her mouth. “Well, you should understand, Robert being a preacher, he wouldn’t like us staying here.”

“Hettie, you and the children aren’t safe alone. We’re going to be here for another week. How about you stay with us? When we head back to Missoula we’ll escort you to Garnet. In the mean time we can feed you and keep you safe.”

“That’s right kind, but we don’t need charity from— well, we’ll be fine on our own.” Deep down she wanted to take her up on the offer. To have a woman, even one who sold her body to men, to talk to about the children and her concerns about raising them would be wonderful. Miss Veronica had a motherly quality about her that Hettie needed badly right now. She’d never been out on her own. She went from Ma and Pa’s household when they passed to her sister’s. Though she helped with the chores, she’d kept her mind on her studies and getting a teaching certificate. She hadn’t paid attention to the details of running a household or raising children.

“I’m not offering charity. I’m offering a business arrangement.”

“Oh no! I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.” Her face heated, and her heart hammered. She knew what soiled doves did. She’d listened in on men’s conversations at the socials. These women gave their bodies to men not their husbands for money.

The madam grasped her arm and shook her. “I’m not talking about bedding men, though you’d bring a fine price with your curves and pretty face.”

Hettie shook out of the woman’s grip and clutched her arms across her chest. She shook her head. “We need to leave.”

The older woman looked at their wagon. Hettie followed her gaze. Someone, probably Howard, had unhitched the horses and staked them out with the others.

“It looks like Howard thinks it’s best for you to stay the night as well. My proposition is this. Help Howard with the cooking, the girls with their washing, and you and the children can stay with us until we head back to town.”

She peered through the gathering darkness trying to see the woman clearly. “Just cook and clean? And we can stay at our wagon, away from all of you?”

“I insist. I wouldn’t want the children exposed to the men who’ll be showing up any minute.”

“You mean you—men— out here? Where do they come from, the men?” She couldn’t fathom these woman finding men out here. They hadn’t seen a homestead or town the last two days.

“We’re camped at the corners of three large ranches. And this is the route taken by sheepherders to get their flocks to market.”

She’d no sooner finished and the sound of horses approached.

“Gather the children and settle in at your wagon for the night. We’ll finish discussing our arrangement tomorrow.” Miss Veronica walked regally toward the incoming horses.

“Gentlemen, right on time.” She extended her arms as though embracing the men still mounted on their horses.

Hettie hurried to the campfire and gathered up the twins. “Come on. We need to make room in the wagon for our beds.”

“Why? We usually sleep under the wagon?” Tommy crossed his arms and stared at her.

“We’ll discuss it at the wagon.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him as Sally skipped along beside them.

“Why are those ladies in their unmentionables?” Sally asked as she bounced alongside Hettie.

“We’ll discuss that at the wagon as well.” She glanced over her shoulder and stopped in her tracks. A man as tall as Howard stood beside Miss Veronica and the cook. He stared at her, his eyes sparkling in the campfire light. Her breath caught in her throat. His blond hair sparkled in the moonlight like stars when he removed his Stetson. Surely, her eyes played tricks. No man that handsome would be in need of this kind of woman.

“Why’d we stop?” Tommy asked loudly.

She jerked on his arm and continued to the wagon. She’d turn Miss Veronica down in the morning, and they’d continue on their way. She could feel Robert and Joan’s outrage deep in her bones. This was not a place for their children.

~*~

If you enjoyed this first chapter feel free to download the rest of the book from Bookfunnel and check out my website with all my other historical western romance books. 

Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 53 novels, 8 novellas, and numerous anthologies of murder mystery and western romance. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Paty and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. Riding horses and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

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