One Heart to Win by Johanna Lindsey
“Nonsense.”
Anna hesitated another moment before she nodded and left the building. If they hadn’t been so close to their destination, Tiffany knew Anna would never have given in.
Tiffany found Thomas with his eyes open and on her as she approached his cot in the doctor’s one-room ward. “You’re a hero,” she said softly as she sat in the chair beside him. “Thanks to you and a few other brave men, those farmers can go on to their promised land and still afford to start their farms. The doctor says you’ll be fine, but you won’t be leaving this bed for a while.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Warren. I know your father is expecting you on time and will raise hell if you—”
“I’ve already telegraphed him,” she said, interrupting Thomas. “He has a friend in town who will escort me the rest of the way. So you can rest easy.”
Thank God Anna wasn’t there to hear that lie, Tiffany thought, but still she couldn’t help blushing. She didn’t make a habit of lying, yet this was the second time she’d lied to the good marshal. The first time had been when the farmers boarded the train and the conductor had told them that because of the unusual circumstances and the train’s going express to Montana, they’d actually arrive at her destination three days early. Thomas had suggested she telegraph her father to let him know. She’d told him she would, but she hadn’t informed her father. She had blushed then, too.
She might have agreed to two months of purgatory in the wilds of the West, but she knew the worst part of it wasn’t going to be being courted by a man she didn’t know, it was going to be living under her father’s roof. She didn’t want him to meet her at the train depot, where she was afraid she might cause a scene. She honestly didn’t know if she’d start screaming at him for not visiting her while she was growing up . . . or cry and hug him. Considering the resentment that had built up in her over the years, it was likely to be the former. But either way, she’d prefer not to meet her father in public, so she was glad he didn’t know that she’d be arriving early.
And Marshal Gibbons didn’t seem to suspect her of lying this time either. He said with a sigh, “I had a feeling there’d be trouble after the farmers boarded. It was just too convenient, that many people crowded in one place, most of them bringing their life savings with them to buy the materials they’d need to start their farms. This land giveaway has been big news in the territory. Figured it might draw outlaws out of their holes to take advantage of it.”
Tiffany nodded and patted the marshal’s hand, glad the ordeal was over. Now she knew firsthand how dangerous the West really was. Had she really told her mother that she would view this trip as a holiday? She’d hated every minute of it since she’d parted from Rose. She just wanted to go home!
Tiffany stayed with Marshal Gibbons until Anna returned and told her they had to leave now or else they would miss the train. Tiffany had thought there would be a longer delay, considering what had happened. But the dead outlaws had been removed from the train, the wounded had been taken to the local doctor, the train’s engineer and head conductor had informed the local sheriff of the robbery, and now the train was ready to go on its way.
Tiffany hesitated over leaving the marshal’s bedside. She felt so guilty about his painful injuries, which she was responsible for since he wouldn’t have been on that train if not for her. She almost decided to remain there to nurse him back to health. Almost. But saner thoughts prevailed, mainly that she didn’t know much about nursing, so how much good could she do? And she couldn’t bear staying in this primitive territory a day longer than she had to. She might get stuck in this tiny town if more express trains that wouldn’t take on new passengers were going to come through.
Sixty days and no more she’d promised her mother, then she could return to the civilized part of the world. Well, she’d promised to be open-minded about Hunter Callahan, too, but really, how long would that take? Mere minutes, she didn’t doubt.
She and Anna rushed back to the depot and got there with moments to spare. But they nearly missed the train anyway because of the Warrens’ new housekeeper. Anna had already stepped on board. Tiffany had one foot on the step herself when Jennifer yelled at her to wait as she ran toward her and shoved a piece of paper in Tiffany’s hand.
Tiffany didn’t try to read it, there wasn’t time, so she just asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Give that to your father, please,” Jennifer said anxiously, her expression full of misery—or was it guilt? “Tell him I’m sorry!”
The whistle blew, the train started to move, and Tiffany got her other foot off the ground before she was left behind. Jennifer was waving good-bye to her, but the housekeeper looked relieved now. Tiffany wondered why and glanced at the note before she took the last step up to join Anna.
“What was that about?” the maid asked.
Tiffany handed the note to her. “See for yourself. Meeting up with Western outlaws was too much for her. She’s running back to her fiancé.”
“Why do you look like you envy her?”
“Maybe because I wish I had the option of turning tail like that,” Tiffany grumbled.
“The time to refuse to go to Montana was before you agreed to do it, not now when we’re almost there.”
Tiffany sighed. “I know. You just should have seen how relieved Jennifer looked, probably because she anticipated that I’d try to talk her out of going home and I didn’t.”
“Would you have?”
Tiffany’s lack of options suddenly overwhelmed her. “No!” she said vehemently. “She’s the lucky one right now. I don’t blame her one little bit for going home when I don’t want to be visiting this part of the country either. Even if my father had succeeded in hiring a housekeeper for me, I’m going to hate visiting him anyway.”
“Then let’s go home!” Anna said, sounding exasperated.
Tiffany looked at the maid. Of course Anna wanted to go back East. She wasn’t obligated to stay. She hadn’t promised she would!
Stiffly Tiffany said, “You can, I can’t. Honestly, Anna, I wouldn’t blame you for going back where we belong.”
Anna actually turned a little indignant over the offer. “I won’t deny I thought about it while those bullets were flying. But the robbery is over and it is probably the worst thing we’ll encounter. I’m staying—if you are.”
Tiffany would have hugged the maid if Anna wouldn’t have gotten all stiff and huffy about it. Instead she laughed and shook her head. “I hate to think of what type of servants they have out here if the good ones have to be hired from back East—and quit before they even arrive!”
Chapter Six
TIFFANY AND ANNA WERE the only passengers who disembarked in Nashart, Montana Territory, and they were still arguing when they stepped off the train. Tiffany’s stubbornness had kicked in, and although she knew deep down that Anna was right, she was in the grip of the emotions that were clamoring inside her—fear, resentment, even anger—all because she was supposed to come face-to-face with her father, Franklin Warren, today.
But early that morning an idea had occurred to her of how she might put off that reunion a little longer. The dream she woke up to gave her the idea. In it she’d been standing in front of a door that was slowly opening to her, seeing a man on the other side of it who didn’t actually have a face since she had no idea what he looked like. But she knew it was her father, and she started screaming until Jennifer was suddenly there, urging Tiffany to escape with her. Then she was running away from him with Jennifer beside her, holding her hand. They ran all the way back to New York, which was impossible, silly even, but it was just a dream, after all. Yet her fears had come to the surface in that dream, and before it started to fade from her mind, she realized she now had the means to avoid facing those fears—for a few days more.
She just needed her maid to go along with her plan because it wasn’t going to work if Anna didn’t agree to help her. She wasn’t really asking for much, just a day or two of anonymity when she could
“This will give me some time to talk to my brothers first before I introduce myself to Papa,” Tiffany explained. “It’s been five years since I saw Roy, longer since Sam and Carl visited. They were all still boys then. They’re men now. I want to know how they feel about Papa, now that they’re grown.”
“You could ask them that in private, without pretending to be the housekeeper they are expecting.”
Trust Anna to be forthright and logical. “Damnit, I’m not ready to be Frank Warren’s daughter when I don’t know anything about him and don’t even know why Mama left him. I thought she would tell me the truth when I came of age, but she didn’t. She gave me a bunch of excuses instead. I know she wouldn’t have let me come here no matter the reason if she believed he was a bad man. But he must have done something bad to make her leave him, and I’m not as forgiving as she is. I don’t know if I can reunite with him without accusing him of all sorts of things that might not even be true, and that’s a horrible way for us to get acquainted, isn’t it?”
Anna pursed her lips. “You haven’t thought this through. He’ll know you. He’ll know—”
Finally sensing victory, Tiffany cut in, “But he won’t! He hasn’t seen me since I was three years old. He sent the boys to New York, but not once in all these years did he ever come with them to see me. And I don’t really look enough like Mama—do I?—for him to think I’m his daughter. This will work. My brothers might recognize me, but I’ll convince them to play along. Two days, that’s all I’m asking for.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” Anna admonished. “It’s your hair he’ll recognize. There’s no way anyone can forget the color of hair like yours.”
“Then we’ll—”
Tiffany paused as a porter carried a few crates off the train and set them down next to them, forcing them to move out of the way. Her only remaining trunk was set down, too. She hadn’t cried when she’d been told that most of her belongings had been stolen by the train robbers. They could be replaced. It was just one more thing to add to the list of complaints she was going to send off to her mother as soon as she had a chance to write her. Anna had been luckier. Her luggage, which she’d borrowed from her family, was so old and tattered that the robbers had ignored it.
Tiffany responded to Anna’s remark about her hair, saying, “Then we’ll dye it.”
Anna was horrified. “No . . . we . . . will . . . not!”
“If you won’t help, I’ll do it myself. With black hair, my brothers might not even recognize me, but my father certainly won’t. Black hair will throw him off completely, so no suspicion will enter his mind. Please, Anna. I don’t know him at all, and he’s disappointed me most of my life by refusing to be a part of it. I would as soon stay in town for this courtship I’m not interested in and not lay eyes on my father at all. But since my mama shot that idea down, I’d like a few days at least to find out what he’s really like.”
Anna tried a different tack to talk Tiffany out of her scheme. “You won’t find hair dye in a town this small. Look over there, there’s only one general store on the street and, by the looks of it, only one street!”
Tiffany finally turned around and looked at the town of Nashart, Montana. Anna had exaggerated. Several streets led off the wide main one, though they appeared to be mostly residential. And the one main street, which was lined with stores and businesses, was at least long. The town had obviously doubled in size since the time Rose had lived there, no doubt due to the arrival of the railroad.
“Well, that’s a surprise,” Tiffany said. “Nashart is bigger than I expected based on my mother’s description of it. We can’t even see to the end of the street. There could be all sorts of other stores down there—oh, my, they have a theater!” Tiffany said excitedly when she saw it. “And a restaurant next to it!”
Anna wasn’t impressed. “One is open, the other is closed according to the sign on the door, so don’t get your hopes up, Miss Tiffany, in that regard. Actors live in cities. They only travel to a small town for a few performances and then move on to the next small town.”
“Yes, but we still might get lucky and see a troupe pass through in the two months we’ll be here. Now, since it looks like Nashart does have a hotel, I’ll get us a room while you find some dye. If the general store doesn’t have any, you can try the barbershop.”
“If they have one,” Anna grumbled. “You know you will be stuck with dyed hair for many months to come, and you will look silly with hair that is two different colors until your hair grows out—or you cut it all off.”
Tiffany was horrified at the notion of cutting her hair and threw up her hands in defeat on that score. “I concede. I’ll wrap it in a scarf or hide it some other way. We’ll think of something.”
Anna shook her head. “You’re not considering all the consequences of this deception. Your father will be pleased to have you show up at his door early, surprising him. He will not be pleased when you show up at his door deceiving him. And what reason will you give him when you’re done with the charade and admit who you are?”
“The truth. I’ll try to present it without rancor, but I will tell him the truth. I’ve been harboring too much resentment not to.”
“Fair enough. Just remember you said without rancor. I suppose you want me to remain in town while you carry out this trickery?”
“Why?”
“Because housekeepers don’t travel with personal maids,” Anna replied.
Tiffany frowned. “That won’t do.”
“It would for one day. I won’t agree to more than that because anything longer and it becomes a deception rather than a surprise.”
Having won, Tiffany couldn’t keep the grin off her face. One day was long enough for her to find out how she would respond when she first clapped eyes on Franklin Warren.
Chapter Seven
“THAT’S GOT TO BE her,” Cole told his older brother, John.
“Like hell,” John blustered. “She’s dressed far too fancy.”
“She’s an Easterner. Did you think she’d show up in calico?”
“Too pretty, too,” John mumbled. “You want to take the chance of bringing home the wrong gal?”
Cole chuckled, pointing out, “We’re not going to just grab her and run, so maybe you should just let me do the talking. Better yet, why don’t you go borrow us a wagon while I sweet-talk the lady. Damned inconvenient time for our good one to break down when we got more’n one thing to pick up that came in on the train today.”
“No.”
Cole sighed at that adamant response. “Can you be reasonable for once? You’re too intimidating when you get in a surly mood, and you’re never diplomatic. First sign of opposition and you start throwing punches! What are you so all-fired grumpy about today anyway?”
“Pa might think this is hilarious, I sure as hell don’t,” John said.
Neither did Cole, and he was the one who’d been shot at recently. Roy Warren swore he didn’t do it, but Cole wasn’t going to just take a Warren at his word. John was hot-tempered even on the best of days, so he should never have come along to carry out this task. They both took after their pa with brown eyes, but John had Pa’s height, too, being well over six feet, while Cole was considered the runt in the family at only six feet. Cole got his smaller stature from their ma, as well as her brown hair, while the rest of the men in the family had black hair.
“We should hurry this up,” John added as he glanced down both sides of the street. “I don’t see any Warrens yet, but that could change at any moment. And I can’t promise you I won’t push back hard if they show up and start pushing.”
Cole nodded, but he was starting to get worried, and not about the Warre
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Yeah, but what if she don’t?” Cole repeated.
“Pa said one way or the other, she comes home with us. We’ll do what we have to do.”
“Pa didn’t figure on every eye in town being on her when he said that. You want to end up in jail?”
“How ’bout we just talk to her first ’fore you try to jump over all these obstacles we ain’t run into yet?”
—
In the middle of the street, Tiffany finally managed to stop sneezing long enough to glare at the two cowboys who’d stirred up the cloud of dust she was choking on. But it wasn’t really their fault, they’d merely ridden past her rather quickly, then come to a tearing halt nearby, which could well have been her fault.
Anna had already pointed out that they were causing something of a sensation in the town, which was why they’d been hurrying across the street to get out of sight inside the hotel. People had been coming out of stores to look at them, leaning over balconies, pointing fingers. Tiffany was a little surprised to see so many women dressed plainly in homespun clothes and so many men in work clothes wearing guns. High fashion had obviously not traveled this far west, but did Nashart get so few visitors that the sight of two strangers would cause such a stir?
Tiffany put a handkerchief to her nose and kept it there. One more thing to hate about the West. Dust. It settled on her clothes, discoloring them, and it made her sneeze. It was controllable in the city, but how did they control it here with their dirt streets?
“I only wanted to change out of these clothes we’ve been wearing for days, but now I need a bath, too,” she complained to Anna.
“You actually think you’ll find one here?”
Tiffany turned to stare at the maid aghast, only to find Anna pointing at a sign farther down the street: TIDWELL’S BATHHOUSE, HOT WATER AND SOAP.