An Orphan’s Past in Flames (Preview)

Prologue

Kansas, 1871

“Nora! Look at the jackrabbit!” Paulina Jenkins bent down to the little girl walking beside her. As she hugged the sturdy little body, dressed in a dusty calico dress and limp sunbonnet, Paulina pointed to the bunny. It loped across the wagon trail, scurrying away from the covered wagons.

“J-abbit?” Nora lisped out, green eyes round with curiosity. At just three, Paulina thought the child was wise beyond her years, but that could be because she’d spent almost every waking moment with young Nora Gowers since she’d been born.

“Papa,” Nora called up to her father, Silas Gowers, who sat on the seat of the covered wagon. It creaked along the bumpy road, the canvas cover snapping in a hot, dry wind. “J-abbit.”

Silas smiled down at the child as his strong, browned arms held the reins of the plodding oxen. “Likely we’ll see plenty more jackrabbits when we get to New Mexico Territory,” he said. Turning to the nanny, he suggested, “It’s almost time for us to stop for the night, Paulina. Why don’t you take Nora on ahead to that shady grove?”

“Yes, sir.”

Paulina waited to see if Nora’s mother, Heather, would admonish her about something. Despite the woman’s indifference to the pretty, auburn-haired child, she often came up with some ridiculous order just to make life for Paulina difficult. This time, Heather, eyes closed beneath a purple sunbonnet, didn’t even look up. Her lips were pinched tight in anger and her hands were clenched in her lap.

Looks like I’d better keep Nora out of Mama’s way tonight.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go pick out a good spot for the wagon.”

The creaking wagons lumbered on, toward a shady grove and a small creek, almost dried up now in the intense heat of early summer. Paulina wished they were almost to New Mexico Territory, but someone on the train had said they had hundreds of miles to go yet. Most of the time, she and Nora rode in the back of the wagon. Too close to Heather’s constant complaints and picking at Nora for every little thing. Today, she’d wanted to stretch her legs. Each day her feet ached more and more from the long journey, but she tried to keep Nora happy and out of Heather’s way.

For the next few hours, Paulina kept a close watch on Nora as she helped Heather Gowers set up their camp. The men unhitched the yoke of oxen and led them to the creek for water. Afterward, they staked the animals out for the evening to graze the sparse, tinder dry grass. The women scrambled for firewood or their supply of buffalo chips and got the evening meal cooking.

“Everyone be careful,” the wagon master, Slim Riley, said as he walked among the families. “This grass is bone dry. Any spark could spell disaster. Paulina, dig a firebreak around the campfire. That way, a spark can’t take off.”

“I’m so tired of this,” Heather complained as usual, once Paulina had put on a pot of pinto beans to boil and a skillet of cornbread. “I don’t know why we ever left St. Louis. My complexion is ruined. Mama always said you could tell a lady by her fair skin. My face is like tanned leather.”

Just like most evenings, Mrs. Gowers sat beside the fire on a canvas camp stool and did nothing helpful. Paulina had no idea what she was tired of unless it was the whole trip. It had been Mr. Gowers’s idea to buy a ranch in New Mexico Territory. Heather had been angry and kept being angrier about the journey from her stately home in Missouri.

Like every other evening, Paulina kept her lips pressed tight.

“Nora! Stop that at once!” Heather screamed.

The little girl had been racing around with a stick in her tiny hands, humming in contentment.

“Sit down and be quiet. If you aren’t quiet, I’m going to take a switch to you.”

Tears pooled in the child’s green eyes; her lower lip quivered. Just then Silas came up from where he’d led the oxen. “Now, what’s wrong with Papa’s baby? Are these tears I see?” From the pocket of his worn linen shirt, he pulled out a lemon drop and handed it to Nora, gathered her on his lap. “I see we need to sweeten you up some.”

“Really, Silas. You’re spoiling her. You and Paulina. I don’t think she even knows I’m her mother.”

“Now, dear, Nora loves you.”

It was at times like these when Paulina thought longingly of her home in Missouri. She yearned to get as far from the discontented Heather as she could. But leaving Nora would be impossible. When Mr. Gowers had first asked Daddy if she could go to St. Louis as a nursemaid when Heather had the baby, Paulina had just seen an opportunity to earn a decent wage. To leave the dust of her small hometown behind and find adventure. She had never known how the tiny baby would wrap herself around her heart.

I couldn’t love Nora more if she were my real daughter. 

Once the meal had been eaten, Paulina washed up the dishes, keeping Nora from bothering her mother. As a purple shadowed dusk came on, she washed the little girl’s face and hands in a small kettle of water she scooped from the creek. “Let’s get your nightgown on and we’ll go to bed. Do you like sleeping under the stars now?”

It had taken a few weeks for Nora to adjust to sleeping on a pallet beside Paulina near the wagon. Now the child settled down happily, so tired she nodded off in a few minutes.

***

Later, Paulina could never remember how long she’d been asleep. Minutes? Hours? The last sound she’d heard was the lonely howl of coyotes in the distance. Another sound woke her. Crackling. A loud pop. Confused, Paulina sat up and a whiff of wood smoke prickled her nose.

The campfire! Surely, I put it out.

“Fire! Fire!”

Startled, Paulina jumped up, an intense heat warming her face. A flicker of flames came from where they’d placed the wagon under some trees. The Gowers!

“Mr. Gowers, Mrs. Gowers!” she screamed as she ran toward the wagon. It was already too late. She saw others nearby, shadowy shapes in the moonless night, tossing feeble pots and pans full of water scooped up from the almost dry creek at the burning canvas. It sizzled as it fell, the gleeful flames defying the attempt to stop it. Flames licked through the dry grass, spreading like lightning. Before Paulina’s terrified eyes, the fire raced up the sides of the Gower wagon. The canvas cover billowed like an orange red fireball as soot and sparks sailed into the night sky.

All around her, people ran, screaming, shouting orders. The oxen and cows set up a frightened chorus of terrified bawling as they jerked at the picket ropes. Several other wagons caught fire. Children cried. Women screamed and men cursed.

“Chet! Ramble! Go settle those animals!” Slim Riley hollered. “Save what you can! Drag those wagons away from the fire!”

In the chaos, Paulina tried to run toward the Gowers’ wagon. The intense heat forced her back. Slim caught her and kept her from getting closer. “It’s too late,” he said as he held her arms to her side. Paulina realized she was sobbing as a frantic scream rent the night.

Nora.

She ran back toward the pallet and scooped up the baby, shielding her from the blaze and the sight of the burning fire consuming her world. The only thing that forced Paulina into action was the agonizing scream from the child as a chunk of charred wood fell on her forearm. She gathered little Nora in her arms and ran as others had into the shallow creek to scoop a meager amount of water on the seared flesh.

All around Paulina and Nora the people huddled, shivering in the creek. Flames lit up the night. Several of the wagons burned down to the metal rims on the heavy wheels. The scent of burnt flour, dry goods, loud pops as cans of kerosene fed the flames beat at Paulina’s ears. It was the most terrifying night she had ever known.

***

“I’m sorry, Paulina,” Slim said the next morning as she sat on a log, surrounded by the stench of burning wagons. “Silas and Heather are … gone. Everything in the wagon is gone. The oxen survived, so you could sell them if need be. The Simpsons lost their animals and are willing to pay for their use, to let you and Nora travel along if you want to go with them. They’ve decided to head back to St. Joe. Do you know what you’ll do? Where you’ll go? What will you do with the child?”

“I don’t want Nora to go to an orphanage. If I can, I’ll keep her.”

It had been the one clear thought in her mind during the whole miserable night.

Nora must be protected. 

Slim scratched the stubble of his gray beard and regarded her with weary eyes. “Guess that’s fine. Ain’t no law says you can’t. Near as I saw, you practically raised Nora anyway. Should I tell the Simpsons you’re going back?”

Devastated by the loss of her employees and shaken by the traumatic event, Paulina saw only one plan of action. “My parents live near St. Louis. They weren’t too happy when I told them I was going west. I’ll go home.”

“That’s fine, probably for the best. I’ll get more of that salve for Nora’s arm. Looks like a right nasty burn, leave a scar for life. Too bad.”

I’ll raise Nora as my child. I love her too much to see her sent to an orphanage. 

Paulina hugged the sturdy child in her arms. Thankfully, they still had their clothes from the night before and the blankets they’d slept in. Everything else was gone. Burnt to ash.

“We’re going home, Nora.”

Chapter One

Missouri 1888

Seventeen Years Later

“Can I get you any water, Mama?”

Nora Jenkins stood at the bedroom door, barefoot and sweaty in the afternoon heat. Worry furrowed her brow as she stared at the beloved woman lying so still on the bed. Tall, slim, but strong from years of hard work to keep the farm going, Nora shifted her long auburn braid across the shoulder of her dark cotton dress.

Her green eyes peered into the dim room, kept dark with black curtains at the window because Mama’s head ached so badly.

“Mama?” Nora pressed her hands together at the waist of her worn blue skirt. A knot of terror churned in her stomach. Ever since Mama’s fall a few weeks ago, Nora couldn’t get rid of the fear. What if something happened to her mother?

Although her friends often thought of her as tough and resolute, Nora had a kind heart and cared deeply, especially for those she loved. Mama was her whole world. Ever since Grandpa and Grandma had died, they’d been together every single day. Nora could never remember a day without Mama beside her. What would she do without her now?

“Mama?” The word came out edged in fright

On the bed, the woman rustled a little. “I-I’m fine. My head feels a little hot.”

The knot in her stomach eased as Nora hurried into the kitchen, filled a tin basin with cool water from the drinking bucket and pulled a clean rag from the drawer. She hurried back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Let me put a cool cloth on your head.” She squeezed out the rag and placed it gently over her mother’s forehead.

She’s burning up with fever!

Biting a corner of her lip, Nora tried to think of something hopeful to say. Dr. Cullingworth had been by earlier. To all Nora’s questions, he’d shaken his head of white hair, a troubled look on his kind face. “I’m sorry, Nora, but there’s nothing else I can do for her. She’s very ill. When she fell, she damaged something inside. I’m just an old country doctor. I don’t have the skills to help her.”

And we’re too poor to go to a big city.

Tears filled Nora’s eyes at the doctor’s words. Although she’d known this time Mama might not recover, knowing she might lose the one person she loved most was not any easier.

“I’m sorry, child. Just keep her as comfortable as you can.”

“Do you think you could eat some soup?” Nora asked as she rinsed the rag and put it back across the feverish brow.

“M-maybe.”

As she stood, Nora bent over to smooth the blankets. Despite the heat, Mama felt chilled all the time.

“You call if you need me,” Nora said as she turned to go back into the kitchen. “I’m going to stir the soup.”

Truthfully, it was too hot for soup, but Nora wanted to use up some of the vegetables from the garden. Soup was the only thing her mother could swallow. Because she was alone in the kitchen, Nora pushed up the long sleeves of her dress. The burn mark on her right forearm was a deep red slash that kept her from dreaming of a husband. What would a man say if he saw her scar? Even though Mama said she was ridiculous, still Nora kept it hidden. Very few people knew she had such a mark. She always wore long sleeves and kept it covered.

At twenty, Nora worked harder than most other girls she knew. In fact, some of the girls she’d gone to school with were already married and had children of their own. It wasn’t that her family hadn’t encouraged her to marry, but Nora knew it was her own stubborn pride. When she married, it would be to a man who could look beyond the red scar on her arm.

The steamy kitchen made the sweat pop out along her forehead. Nora blew upward to settle the stray hairs across her sunburned forehead.

What am I going to do?

Worries plagued her. They’d lived with Grandma and Grandpa on the tiny farm ever since papa had died in the fire. The same fire that had given her the burn on her arm when Nora was three. When her papa died, Mama had tried to carry on. All too soon, they had no money to pay the storekeeper. It was then Nora hired herself out to sew for the Widow Miller. Her meager earnings kept them going for a few months. They still had chickens and the cow. Maybe it was time to sell old Bossie to pay the doctor.

“Nora! Nora!”

There was a terrifying tone in Mama’s voice.

Nora dropped the ladle on the stove and hurried into the bedroom.

“Come, sit beside me. There’s something I must tell you … before …” a coughing fit choked the woman, and she struggled to breathe. Rising up to lean on a weak elbow, she gasped out, “… be-be-fore it’s too late.”

As she eased down to the side of the bed, Nora grasped Mama’s frail hand in her own. It was like holding a baby bird, all bony and trembling. “You’ll get well. I’m sure of it.”

“N-no, listen, there’s no time to fool ourselves. I have a confession to make. Listen carefully. You must know …” Over Nora’s protest, Mama squeezed her hand tight. “…the truth. About your family. Your true family.”

“My true family?”

Was Mama talking out of her head? Had the fever affected her brain?

Nora’s heart clenched in fear.

Please, God, don’t take her. She’s all I have.

“I’m not your real mother.”

“What do you mean? You’ve always been my mother.”

A cough like it would never end racked Mama’s body. Her chest shook and her face, in the dim light, went paler than flour. Nora ran into the kitchen and brought back a dipper of cool water. She held it to her mother’s lips, her own hands trembling. The water seemed to help. Mama lay back against the pillow, took a couple of deep breaths and spoke with so much love Nora felt tears moisten her eyes.

“I treated you like a daughter because I loved you. I was really your nanny. Your real mother was named Heather Gowers. Your father was Silas. They were your parents. It’s true your father died in a fire in a wagon train. So did your mother. I kept you so no one would send you to an orphanage.”

“What are you saying? You’re my mother.”

Mama shook her head, her clawlike hand clasped Nora’s tight. “No, you must listen. Your father was a very wealthy man. Your parents died in a fire in Kansas on their way to a ranch your father had bought. It was called Twin Waters in New Mexico Territory—outside Silver City. Forgive me for keeping it from you for so long. Maybe, if I’d have let you find the truth, the ranch might have been yours. Now, it’s probably lost to you forever.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mama touched the burn mark. “Do you remember when you’d ask me how you got this mark?”

“You said a burning piece of wood dropped down and burned my arm.”

“That’s true, but I let you think it happened here in Missouri. It happened the night of the fire, when your parents died.”

Nora shook her head, unable to believe such a story. If it had happened, wouldn’t she remember it?

“Promise me, daughter, you forgive me. I never meant to keep it from you for so long. I’ve loved you like you were my own child. But maybe I was wrong never to tell you.”

“I forgive you.” Tears welled in Nora’s eyes. “I’ve always known you loved me.”

Mama clenched her arm, her breathing shallow. Talking had tired her. “Go to my trunk and look inside. There’s a blue velvet bag under my woolen skirt. Bring it here.”

Not knowing what to expect, Nora lifted the lid of Mama’s trunk and found the bag. It was small and tied with a dark blue ribbon. A lump inside felt round. She went back to the bed and held it out.

“Open it.”

Nora did as she was told. On a long silver chain, a beautiful silver locket, shaped like a heart, fell into her open palm. On the front, in elegant font, was an engraved letter “H.”

“L-look in-…” Mama gasped.

With nervous fingers, Nora pried open the locket. It fell into two halves, each half with a small photograph, one of a man and the other side a woman. As she studied the man, his twinkling dark eyes, a hint of a smile lifting his lips, Nora felt a stirring inside. A memory?

“He…he used to give me lemon drops and let me sit on his lap?”

Mama managed a shaky smile. “I’m glad you remember him. He adored you.”

The woman might have been a beauty. Her abundant hair was piled high on her head, she had a lovely heart-shaped face, and wide doe-like eyes. It was her tight-lipped, unsmiling lips that made Nora shudder. Around the neck of a ruffled dress, she wore this very locket.

I didn’t like her.

“Those are your parents, Heather and Silas Gowers. Your name isn’t Nora Jenkins. It’s Nora Gowers. You should be proud of that heritage.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

Mama shrugged, eased down on the pillow. Her words were so low, Nora had to lean forward, struggle to hear. “I loved you. P-promise me … you f-forgive.”

Later that night, Mama’s throat rattled its last breath. Nora had known it was coming, but it was still a shock. In the morning, she must walk into town and let the undertaker know. How she would pay for Mama’s burying, she had no idea. The only thing of value she had left was the farm.

Through a long, sleepless night, Nora took stock of her situation. There was only one thing to do. With Mama gone, there was nothing for her in St. Louis. She would sell the ranch to bury mama and purchase a stagecoach ticket to New Mexico Territory. If her father had bought a ranch named Twin Waters, maybe someone there would remember her other parents. If not, there might be people living nearby who could tell her more about her past.

“I need to know,” Nora said into the dark, achingly lonely night right before the tears began to fall.

I’m all alone.

Chapter Two

Silver City

New Mexico Territory

Trudging along, Nora felt a pebble bite into her right heel. It had been an annoyance for the last couple of miles, but she was determined to make it to the ranch by sundown if she could.

“I didn’t come over nine hundred miles to be stopped by a lump in my shoe,” she spoke out loud, although there was no one around to hear.

Nora studied the sandy, almost barren landscape around her. There was a road, of sorts, well-worn and traveled. It led through spots of vegetation she couldn’t name. All she knew was that it was green and a welcome relief to her eyes from the unrelenting sun as well as the yellow brown dirt and harsh rugged mountains in the distance. The air felt heavy, hard to breathe. One old timer on the stage had told her it was the altitude.

“We’re in the mountains hereabouts, young lady. Air’s kindly thin, but you’ll get used to it.”

Nora hoped so. She stopped for a minute, plopped down on the empty road, and got the pebble out of her shoe. Who cared if she acted like a lady if there was no one to see? Picking up her carpetbag, she walked faster, wishing for a watering hole soon. The inside of her mouth felt as dry as a desert. Surely, a ranch called Twin Waters would be near water. If it still existed.

“Twin Waters?” The man at a nearby ranch had pondered the name when Nora asked if he knew the place. “Well, now, I don’t rightly know if it’s the place you want. But there’s a big spread out where two cricks come together. It’s maybe five or six miles south. You’ll come to Silver City before you come there.” He pointed at the road. “Mighty long walk for a young lady. I’d take you, but I can’t leave. My horse has a pulled tendon. Fixin’ to let him rest up a few days.”

“Just point me in the right direction,” Nora answered with more spunk than she felt. She’d hoped to find someone going in the same direction as the ranch, but she might as well have been in the middle of nowhere. There had been a stage into Silver City, but the last place to buy a ticket had found her too short on funds to buy one. Instead, determined not to be stopped, Nora set out on foot.

The long ride in the stagecoach had left her exhausted. It seemed weeks since she’d left Missouri after Mama’s funeral. She wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a bed–even if it was lumpy and full of bedbugs like the place she’d stayed in a few nights before.

No money to waste on hotels now, Nora reminded herself as she walked along on her aching lumps of feet. The small amount of money she’d gotten from the sale of the farm had paid for Mama’s burial and traveling money. A worried pucker furrowed her brow when Nora thought of how few coins jingled in her bag. All too soon, her money would run out.

Then I’ll be in a pretty fix. 

And what will I do when I get to Twin Waters? I’m going to have to find work somewhere.

As the stagecoach bumped and jolted its way from Missouri to New Mexico Territory, Nora worried about the question. A couple of times she pulled out the locket to stare at the pictures of her parents. After Mama had given it to her, Nora placed it around her neck. The solid weight had been a companion on the long trip, a reminder. Wearing it, she could almost feel Mama’s presence with her.

If Papa had bought a ranch in Silver City, did it still exist.? Who did it belong to now? It had been seventeen years since her parents died. Surely, in all that time, the ranch would have been sold when her parents never arrived.

Down the road, Nora noticed a cloud of dust coming toward her. As the dust blew in her direction, she could make out a horse and rider, stirring up the powder dry road in swirls. Well, hallelujah, maybe it was someone who could give her a ride or tell her if she was getting close.

It didn’t occur to her to feel fear. Although Dr. Cullingworth had been appalled when Nora told him her plan.

“Child! It’s too dangerous for you to even attempt such a thing. Stay here. I’ll find you work at the boarding house.”

But Nora remained stubborn. “I’ve made up my mind.” No one could persuade her differently.

She hadn’t told the doctor she hoped to find out more information about her parents. Just that Mama had ‘friends’ who lived there and suggested Nora go to them. Once again, her impetuous nature had shoved her into action. As Dr. Cullingworth might say, “without adequate thought for the seriousness of the situation.”

The rider came close enough she could see he was a tall, rugged looking man sitting in the saddle of a large, bay quarter horse.

“Why, hello there?” He spoke in surprise as he reined in the startled horse a few inches beside her. “Who are you?” He looked down, a confident, easy-going smile on his face. “Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere, all alone? Something happen to your buggy or horse?”

Nora stared up at the lean, muscular man astride the horse. He had short, dark hair under a well-worn hat and deep blue eyes that twinkled at her as if he was amused. She wasn’t too tired to admire the strong jawline and the rugged, handsome face with a brush of stubble across the chin. His deeply tanned face testified to years of working outdoors. So did the crow’s feet at the corners of those blue eyes.

“I’m Justin Balton,” he spoke again, shoving the hat back on his head. “Are you on your way to Silver City? Miss?”

“Nora Jen—I mean Gowers.” Even now, Nora had a hard time believing her last name was Gowers, not Jenkins, as it had been for so many years. “Yes and no.” Nora was glad she’d shoved down the long sleeves of her dress to hide the scar a few miles back. “I’m looking for a ranch called Twin Waters. Do you know it?”

A wary expression came into his eyes. “I might,” he spoke with a drawl. “Why do you want to go there?”

For just a minute, after she’d said “Gowers,” the man’s eyes had widened.

He recognizes the name. I’d swear to it.

“I don’t see it’s any of your business,” Nora spoke up with her usual spunk, figuring this man to be a cowboy. He was somebody’s ranch hand probably, and too big for his britches. Although she couldn’t help but see how well his long legs filled out his britches, ending in dusty leather boots that rode tight in the stirrups. “But, if you must know, I’ve got business with whoever lives there. You know them?”

“I might.”

Nora sighed, shifted her carpet bag to the other hand. “Look, cowboy. I’m tired. I’ve been walking for miles. I don’t care if you know them or not. Can you just point me in the right direction? Or maybe tell me how to find Silver City so I can borrow a horse there?”

And how I’ll pay for it, I’ll never know.

“Twin Waters is about six miles the other side of town,” he admitted with a wary sound in his voice. “But I’d still like to know why you want to go there.” The man stared at her with suspicion, but then lightened his voice like he might be teasing her. “It’s not every day I come across a pretty woman trudging along with a carpet bag. Especially one with such a stubborn chin and fire in her green eyes.” He winked. “Or a couple of leaves stuck in her red hair.”

Infuriated, Nora reached up and plucked out the leaves from her braid. Annoyed that she hadn’t checked when she woke up under a tree this morning after a night spent under the stars. Having to camp out made her forget her manners. Mama would have insisted she wear a sunbonnet. The warm air and beating sun were hot enough to make one useful, by Nora had never liked the heavy weight pressing on her head.

Nora had planned to keep her identity to herself until she could find out more, but the cowboy’s attitude was like a shove in the wrong direction. Mama always said she was too hasty. It was true. Her quick temper had gotten Nora into more trouble than she could count. “If you must know, I’m Nora Gowers, and my papa, Silas, bought Twin Waters a long time ago. I’d like to find out more about my family.”

“You’re who?”

Now she had his full attention. And drat—that wasn’t how she’d meant to spill the news.

“My name is Nora Gowers and I …”

“I don’t believe you.”

Nora’s eyes widened. She drew in a sharp breath. “You don’t believe what? My name is Nora …”

“No, it isn’t. Listen, lady, I don’t know where you got your information, but Nora Gowers died in a fire on a wagon train, just like her ma and pa. So, you just better turn around and go back to where you belong.”

“No,” Nora insisted. “I didn’t die in the fire. I came here to ask questions, and I plan to do just that. If you won’t tell me how far it is, I’ll just keep walking.”

“You won’t!”

He shook his head. Angry. His lips crimped tight, and those blue eyes glared as if she were a bug he’d like to stomp.

“I’d like to see you stop me, Cowboy. No law against asking questions last I heard.”

“Don’t you go bothering the folks at Twin Waters.”

“I don’t plan to bother them. Just to ask some questions.”

Shaking his head, he stopped the large horse in front of her. “Leave them alone. You’re no relation to the Gowers.”

“I am.”

“No, you aren’t!”

Nora had enough of the bickering. She turned away from him and started to walk down the road toward Silver City. To her surprise, he turned his horse and rode up beside her.

“Look, I know the people who own Twin Waters. They’re good people. Decent people. They mourned the Gowers years ago right after the tragedy.”

Nora ignored him.

“I could give you a ride on to town. There’s a stage that comes in tonight. You can go back to wherever you come from. Don’t cause trouble for the …”

“Go away!”

They both heard the rumble of a farm wagon behind them. It came abreast, driven by a young woman in a pink flowered dress and straw bonnet. Slender but sturdy, with light brown hair in a neat bun on the nape of her neck, her hazel eyes took in the two of them with a bright, inquisitive smile.

“Hello, there.” She gave Nora a friendly grin, crinkling her nose. Fair skinned, with a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks, her arrival felt like a welcoming interruption. “Is Justin bothering you?”

“Yes.”

“Why Justin, can’t you behave?”

He flushed under the bronzed skin and muttered, “Yes, I can.”

“I’m Emma Whitmore, the teacher in Silver City. Can I give you a ride into town?”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Nora Gowers, and I would love a ride.”

Nora hurried to climb up on the wagon seat, happy to see Justin did not like this idea at all. Turning around, she tossed her carpet bag into the back of the wagon. She turned to see Justin watching them as the wagon drove away. The idea came to her to stick her tongue out at him like a three-year-old, but she restrained herself.

“He can be annoying,” Emma said, as if she could read Nora’s mind, “but he’s a good man. Once you get to know him, you’ll like him.”

“I doubt that.” Nora answered.

Although she’d kind of enjoyed sparring with him, and he was handsome. When he’d first smiled at her, Nora couldn’t deny the way her heart leapt up in delight.

***

Justin sat on Whistler and fumed. He’d been surprised to come upon a beautiful woman striding down the road with a carpet bag out in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t a sight he expected to find every day. To find Nora walking along was jolting. Even Whistler had snorted in surprise.

And then blurting out she was Nora Gowers! Impossible.

Until then, Justin had been amused by the girl’s fiery temper and those mysterious green eyes. It wasn’t possible. As long as he could remember, his family had owned and worked Twin Waters since Silas Gowers’ death. He was skeptical of this woman’s claim she was Nora Gowers. Nora had died, same as her parents in Kansas.

The whole episode would be funny, except Justin felt sorry for the woman. Who had told her such a tale? How far had she come to find out the truth? Once he got home, he planned to tell his parents about meeting the strange woman.

Whoever she was, she was a spunky little thing. Kind of pretty, too, with that rich auburn hair and those green eyes. Justin couldn’t deny the attraction he’d felt when he came upon her with that heavy carpetbag, trudging along. It was too bad Emma had to rescue her. Maybe he could have persuaded her not to bother the folks at Twin Waters. Now, he didn’t know where she’d end up.

Probably won’t take my advice to leave. Not if she’s pretending to be Nora Gowers.

“C’mon, Whistler, let’s go get Ma’s crochet pattern.”

Trying to put the woman out of his mind for now, Justin headed to the neighboring ranch where Ma had asked him to borrow a pattern. That chore done; he hurried toward home.

Ma was just setting supper on the table when he came into the yeast scented kitchen. The mouth-watering smell of browned meat made Justin’s stomach rumble. He washed up quickly and pulled out his chair at the round kitchen table.

“Did Millie have the pattern, son?” Brenda Balton asked. She pushed back a strand of limp, gray hair off her forehead and sat a bowl of green beans on the table. At his nod, she smiled. “I thought she might. Start passing the roast while I dish up the potatoes.”

Justin dutifully passed the platter of roast to his father, Christopher Balton.

“You’ll never guess who I met on the road today.” Justin said as he slathered butter on his biscuit. He waited until Ma sat down before he shared the rest of the wild tale. “The craziest thing. A young woman who claims her name is Nora Gowers.”

His father dropped his fork and stared hard. “Nora Gowers? Silas’ daughter? That’s not possible. Nora’s dead.”

“That’s what she said, big as life.” Justin took a big bite of biscuit, the buttery goodness melting on his tongue. After a swallow, he looked at Pa, suddenly aware of what his words had done.

At the head of the table, Pa turned ghostly pale, his eyes wide and staring. His white-knuckled fingers clenched his fork.

“Pa? What’s wrong?”

“No,” he whispered, “it can’t be.”

Chapter Three

As they rode along the dusty road toward Silver City, Emma talked and talked and talked. Nora wasn’t sure how much she listened to the other woman, but she enjoyed the rise and fall of Emma’s words and the pleasant way she looked at life. After the long journey to New Mexico Territory, it felt good to let someone else look out for her a little while. Nora rested her aching feet on the buggy floor and tried to reply at the right time.

When they were almost on the edge of town, Emma lifted one slender hand off the reins to point forward. “The town’s right beyond that dip in the road. My house is on the other side, near the schoolhouse. My parents and I moved here a few years after the big silver strike. The town used to be an Apache campsite until 1870, when someone found a big deposit of silver ore at Chloride Flat. It’s a hill just west of the farm of Captain John M. Bullard and his brother, James. Mother and Daddy thought they’d try their hand at storekeeping, sure the miners would want to spend big.”

“You sound like a schoolteacher,” Nora laughed. “You kind of put me in mind of Miss Bangle back home.”

“I’m sorry!” Emma giggled and crinkled her freckled nose. “I suppose I do see most of life as a lesson to be taught. So, tell me, Nora, why are you visiting our fair city? It’s not every day we get someone new in town unless it’s a miner, sometimes his family. Or are you meeting a beau here? Or one of the miners? Are you answering a bridal advertisement? I’ve often thought those women must be so adventurous.”

Nora sighed. “It’s a little hard to explain. Mama just …,” even saying the words still felt raw, and Nora’s throat shut tight for a moment. She took a deep breath. “Mama just died, and she wanted me to come here. To find some … one. I promised her I would.”

I made a mistake telling Justin I wanted to know about my family. I won’t do that with Emma. Not until I know more.

Beside her on the buggy seat, Emma turned to study her. Maybe as if she knew more than Nora might be telling. “I’m sorry about your mother. Do you have a place to stay? There is a boarding house but … well frankly, it’s not a place I’d like to sleep. This is rather a rough town with so many men. It’s not really a good place for a decent woman alone.”

Tears filled her eyes as Nora shook her head. There was no money for a boarding house.

“I’ve been camping out anywhere I could find. Guess if you know of a place, I could spread a blanket anywhere.”

“No, don’t do that! Tell you what. You come home and stay with me. My parents and I have plenty of room and they love guests.”

“They wouldn’t mind?”

Emma shook her head. “Absolutely not! It will be fun and give me someone to talk to. Plus, Mother can have someone else to praise her cooking. She’s quite the baker.”

“Then thank you. I accept your hospitality.” Nora sat back in relief, grateful to have lodging for the night. It gave her time to think of a plan for tomorrow. Or a way to spread her meager coins further than they could possibly spend.

“You’re very welcome. Giddyap, Arthur, we’re hungry.”

The horse shook his mane and didn’t appear to walk any faster, but Emma lifted her shoulders and did a funny crinkle with her nose. “Stubborn, like all men.”

For the first time since Mama’s funeral, Nora felt a small ray of cheer in her heart. She joined in Emma’s laughter with a lighter heart.

As Emma said, the Whitmore’s welcomed Nora with open arms. She was fed a sumptuous dinner complete with a dried blackberry pie, shown to a clean, tidy bedroom and told to ask for anything else she might need. The bed had been freshly made with a pink and white quilt; sun-dried sheets ironed to a crisp freshness. The plump pillows looked as inviting as they felt when Nora picked them up. After several nights of camping out on the cold, hard ground, Nora knew her body would sleep fine in such comfort.

Thank you, God.

As Nora dressed for bed in her shabby muslin gown, she heard a rap at the door.

“Oh, good, you’re still awake,” Emma said when Nora opened the door. “Do you mind if I come in and talk for a few minutes? You don’t know how I’ve longed to have someone to talk to. There aren’t many women my age in town, and I get so lonely for conversation. I love my students, don’t get me wrong, but most of them aren’t old enough to talk about my interests.”

Even though Nora wanted nothing more than to crawl into the soft, welcoming mound of quilts and feather bed, she welcomed Emma inside. It would be the polite thing to do. Although she wished he had a less shabby nightgown.

Emma perched on the edge of the bed, so Nora sat in a rocking chair. Aware of her threadbare gown, she let her hair down around her shoulders to cover a rip on the shoulder.

“You have the loveliest auburn hair, Nora. I wish mine were more becoming.”

Tonight, Emma wore her dark hair in two braids like a child. They made her look both younger and more innocent. Emma’s curious blue eyes stared at Nora; her head tilted to the side. During dinner, Nora had skirted questions about coming to Silver City despite the Whitmore’s curiosity. She’d deliberately kept her answers vague and short, using the excuse to find friends of Mama’s.

Would Emma demand more now? What will I say?

“I guess you wonder why I happened to be on the road today,” Emma said, which had been the furthest thing from Nora’s thoughts.

“Why no. I had no idea where you were going or coming. Was it a secret?”

The very way Emma leaned over and confided the information in a whisper caused Nora to wonder. “Not a secret? Everyone in town knew where I was going. But, well …”

Emma blushed and tugged at a silken ribbon in the sleeve of a pink, flower sprigged nightgown. “I was taking home one of my students, Patty. She usually gets a ride home with her father, but he’d ask me this morning if I could bring her home. His name is Rick. Rick Thompson.”

Again, Nora had no idea why Emma looked so starry-eyed until the idea occurred to her. Was Emma in love with this man? 

 “Doesn’t he have a wife?”

“Oh no!” Emma hastened to assure her. “Rick has been a widower for years. He’s raised Patty almost by himself. She’s eight, just the sweetest little thing. I couldn’t love her more if she were my own.”

Wasn’t that what Mama had said? One of the last things? I loved you like you were my own daughter.

Glad to have Emma confessing her secret, Nora realized she’d missed having a close friend. With Mama, she’d never seemed to need anyone else. At school, when all the other girls huddled in a circle and whispered about liking a certain boy, Nora had always felt left out. Why did she need to like a boy, any boy? Most of the boys saw her scar accidentally and then acted as if she were tainted somehow.

“Rick is just … I don’t know. He’s wonderful.” Emma’s eyes shone as she spoke about him. “But I’m not sure he cares for me at all. He’s so busy. He works as a ranch hand on the McCallister Ranch. It’s a huge place. Rick has been their foreman for years. Why, he’s even won the rodeo we have on Founder’s Day the past five years, even though he limps from an old injury one year.”

Nora had no idea what all Emma chattered about, but she let the other woman’s words fill her mind. It was pleasant. Soothing. For the first time, Nora wondered what it would be like to love a man, as Emma seemed to love Rick. She’d never much cared about men. There had been no one to come courting. No extra money to buy yard goods to sew up a pretty dress to wear to a dance. Even when Mama encouraged her to be more sociable, Nora kept to herself.

Although the window was open, blowing in a refreshing breeze after the heat of the day, Nora’s arms felt hot in her muslin gown. Without thinking, she shoved the sleeves up to her elbow.

“And he said … oh, my!” Emma gasped; eyes wide as she noticed the red slash on Nora’s arm. “However, did you get that scar? Does it hurt?”

Embarrassed at her stupidity, Nora shoved the sleeve back over the scar. Red faced, she mumbled, “It’s nothing. I’ve had it a long time. How did Rick get his injury?”

Emma went on to describe the bronc that had tossed Rick and injured his leg, but Nora barely heard a word. When Emma finally ran out of words and left, Nora couldn’t wait to lie down in the soft bed. She’d hoped to have a deep night’s sleep, but as always that comfort eluded her.

Through the open window, she heard night birds chittering. A wolf or coyote howled from far away. The air carried scents Nora wasn’t familiar with: pungent and spicey. Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, Nora watched the silent path of the moon’s rays play across the whitewashed ceiling. The muslin curtains, with a pretty ruffle of deep pink, fluttered at the window as the Whitmore house creaked its nighttime sounds.

Tomorrow, she would have to figure out a plan. Tomorrow maybe she would learn more about her parents.

And find work …