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  Dan McCall’s Bride

  Book 1 ~ Mail Order Misdelivery Series

  Barbara Goss

  Copyright All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All scripture is quoted from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2017 Barbara Goss

  All Rights Reserved

  Kindle Edition

  Cover design by: Samantha Fury

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  Dan McCall gazed around the stuffy waiting room at the Federal Court in Fort Smith, Arkansas. He knew the other men in the room were also marshals, since they all wore the same silver star enclosed in a circle. Evidently, they’d all been called in for some reason. He repositioned himself in his seat. After traveling all the way from Salina, Kansas, he was tired, hot, and frustrated. Why had they all been called?

  The other marshals looked as uncomfortable as he felt. One man sat slouched in his seat fanning himself with his wide-brimmed hat.

  Finally, the door at the center of the far wall opened and Tom Dearborn, the director of the U.S. Marshal Service himself, invited them all into his large office. Another man standing with Dearborn was later introduced as Leon Brown, chief of staff.

  All the marshals looked as curious as he—nervous, too. What was going on?

  Dearborn cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, have a seat.” When the men had been seated, he continued, “I’ve called you all here for a special mission. The Spaulding Gang has been terrorizing Kansas. Since you’re all marshals of Kansas, we need to sweep the area clean of them. We want them caught. People are afraid to ride the rails these days, owing to the frequent train robberies. Banks are getting hit left and right. We need to stop this gang. You can hire two men to assist you, but they must be approved by the court in your area to be sure they’re clean.”

  He went on to give them other specific instructions—ideas to try, explicit areas of concern. Dan was assigned Hays and Salina and told to watch the railroad, especially since the gang had been robbing more trains than banks of late.

  “They know,” Dearborn said, “that most banks have now hired guards. We had marshals riding the trains but it did no good, since once the gang boarded the train, everyone was covered by their guns, leaving our marshals helpless to do a thing without injuring innocent people. We need to catch them where they hide out or somewhere other than during a robbery. They don’t hesitate to shoot anyone in their path.” Dearborn turned to the marshals, and asked, “Any questions?”

  A few marshals questioned their assigned areas, but once that had been straightened out, they were all excused.

  Dan rode back to his office in Salina, wondering how he’d be able to safeguard such a large area. He could hire two men, but he didn’t know anyone who’d want such a low-paying job since deputy marshals made even less than he did, and that wasn’t a heck of a lot.

  Once in Salina, he asked around and found Jack Garner and Alan Turner, two men who’d agreed to serve as temporary deputy marshals. He assigned Alan to Salina and decided that he and Jack would go to Hays, since it was larger.

  Leila Simmons sat by the train’s window, watching the scenery speed by. She could hardly wait to get to Hays to meet Joe Austin, her intended. It had been a long trip of stagecoaches and trains to finally get to Kansas from Maryland. She was so weary, she began to nod off, only to jerk herself awake. She couldn’t wait to spread her body out on a real bed and sleep. She’d been impressed with Kansas City and Topeka, and she wondered if Hays would be as populated and busy as those cities.

  According to his letters, Joe lived a few miles out from Hays City, and he and his brother ran a cattle ranch. He seemed like a down-to-earth man whom she felt she could trust.

  Reared by sisters at an orphanage, this would be her first big adventure into the world on her own, and she was both nervous and thrilled at the same time.

  The same man who collected tickets called out the stations before they reached them so the people getting off had the time to gather their belongings. He’d just called out “Abilene!” which meant she had only two more major stops until she’d be in Hays. She looked at the last letter Joe had written her. Salina was next and then Hays City. He’d said the town council was considering changing the name to just "Hays," since no one called it "Hays City" anymore.

  She leaned back and finally relaxed enough to fall asleep until the man called out, “Salina!” and she felt butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach. She sat up straight and the worries began. Would he like her looks? Would she like his? How should she act? She’d always been somewhat shy—should she try to act bolder? She sighed and decided just to be herself. Leila wondered how far Salina was from Hays and how long it would take.

  Later, looking out of the window, she saw the rolling hills in the distance. So far, everything she’d seen had been flat and boring, but the hills were lovely. Every now and then she saw a body of water through the brush. Joe had told her the Smoky Hill River wasn't far from Hays. Of course, it could also be the Saline River.

  Several fellow passengers exited at Salina, and a few new passengers had boarded. She got her first look at a real cowboy when four of them took seats in her car and sat close by her, up a few rows and to her right. They were wearing boots, gun belts, neck scarves, and wide-brimmed, black hats. The spurs on their boots made a slight clanking noise as they walked down the aisle. She tried not to stare, but she’d never seen a real cowboy before. One of them turned to smile at her, tipping his hat.

  Once the train had started up from Salina, Leila prepared to get off in Hays by putting her valise on the seat beside her and setting her reticule on top of it.

  Suddenly, the four cowboys stood. One of them ran through to the front of the train, while another went off toward the back. One of the remaining two yelled, “Hand over your valuables.” Several passengers gasped.

  Leila felt the train seem to skid on the tracks with a squealing noise, and then it stopped dead so suddenly, she was pushed into the seat in front of her.

  The men went from seat to seat, holding out their hats. Passengers took off rings and threw money, and other valuables into the hat. When they got to her, the cowboy gave her a smile showing brown, crooked teeth. “You too, little lady.”

  Leila reluctantly removed the golden cross from around her neck and threw it into the hat. The man shook the hat in front of her. “The money in the reticule, too!” he roared.

  “I have no money,” she said. It wasn’t quite the truth, for she had a few coins she was saving in it. What she didn’t want to part with was the daguerreotype of her parents she carried with her, since it was the only remembrance she had of them. The frame was gold, and she knew they’d take it if they saw it.

  The cowboy made a grab for her reticule, but she held on to it. “No, it’s m
ine!” she cried.

  “And now, it’s mine!” He pulled on the reticule, again, taking her arm with him.

  “Ouch!” she cried, pulling the reticule back.

  “Now look, miss: I don’t wanna hurt you. Just let go of the bag!”

  The man who’d fled to the back of the train came back, carrying a cloth bag with him. “We got the money from the safe—let’s get out of here.”

  “This lady won’t let go of her bag. It must have a fortune in it,” the cowboy who’d been pulling on her reticule said.

  Shots rang out and the men stiffened. “It’s the law!” one of them shouted.

  “We gotta get out of here. Take the girl and hold her out in front of us for the law to see, so they won’t shoot at us,” one of them yelled.

  The cowboy released her reticule, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder.

  The train robbers ran for the exit, kicking it open. The cowboy who’d seized her ran with her in front of him. He was clutching her by the waist, unfazed by all of her kicking and screaming. They ran with her on foot around a clump of bushes behind which they’d hidden their horses. The cowboys mounted; the one who’d been carrying her threw her over his saddle as if she were a sack of flour.

  “What’ll we do with the dame?” he yelled.

  “Dump her. We don’t need her anymore. She’ll only slow us down,” one of the cowboys said. “Keep the reticule, though.”

  He grabbed the reticule, threw it to one of the other men, and threw Leila to the ground. That was all she knew; her world turned black.

  Dan and Jack had left Salina for Hays, traveling along the railroad since they were supposed to monitor the trains. One train had just left the station. They tried to gallop fast enough to keep up with it, but it had gained speed and left them with a puff of smoke.

  They trudged on at a slower pace, so as not to tire their mounts. They had a long way to go. Each of them carried a bedroll and other necessities in their saddle packs. They'd reach Hays sometime the following day if the weather held up. If it rained, it would slow them down as the trails would be muddy.

  Dan usually rode the trails to Hays and got there in forty-eight hours, but riding along the tracks, he wasn’t sure how much longer or shorter the trip would. He knew there was a wooded area along the tracks a few miles up, and they’d have to leave the tracks and find the trail to Hays.

  Both men reined in and glanced at each other when they saw the train had been stopped up ahead.

  “Uh oh!” Dan shouted. “Let’s go get ‘em!” They galloped as fast as they could to reach the train. He remembered his orders not to pursue during a robbery as the robbers would most likely shoot to kill. As they approached the train, they fired their guns in the air in an attempt to force the robbers out of the train before someone got hurt.

  “There they go,” Jack said. “Hey, is that a woman one of them is carrying, kicking and screaming?”

  Dan set his horse to a trot. “Looks like they’ve taken a hostage. Maybe we should've held off firing and simply followed them. Now, we’ve put that poor woman in harm’s way.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Dan said. “We’ll follow them at a distance so they aren’t aware we're tailing them, find out where they go, and seize them there, catching them off guard.”

  They were preparing to follow the men, when Dan saw the woman being hurled to the ground and the men galloping away.

  Dan wasn’t usually a swearing man, having been strictly raised by a Bible-toting mother, but a mild oath escaped his mouth. “We can’t just leave her there. Jack, you go on and follow them, but don’t try to seize them. Don’t let them see you either, if you can manage it. Meet me at Rosie’s Eating House in Hays tomorrow or the next day, and we’ll track back to where you saw them go and try to capture them unawares.”

  “Right!” Jack said and went off at a gallop, leaving Dan to wave the dust away from his face. When it cleared, he moved slowly over to where the woman lay.

  She was sprawled face down, and he could see a pool of blood near her head. He slid off his horse and approached, felt for a pulse, and let out a breath of relief; she was still alive. He turned her over gently and couldn’t help but notice she was a fine-looking young woman, with dark hair and long eyelashes. Her face was pale, but pretty.

  He didn’t have much medical training, so he sat beside her and wondered what to do first. He noticed the rock on which she’d most likely landed. That must have been what caused the bleeding wound on the side of her head.

  Dan took his bandana off and wrapped it around her head. It wasn’t sterile, but it was the best he could do for the time being. She had to come to—if not, how would he get her onto his horse?

  Tired of waiting for her to come around, he decided she needed more medical care than he could give her, so he bent and lifted her onto his horse, laying her over the horn of his saddle. He then mounted, cradled her in the crook of his arm, and took the reins with his other hand. Unable to gallop single-handedly, he walked the horse back to Salina, since it was the nearest place to find a doctor.

  Chapter 2

  All the way back to Salina, the woman never batted an eyelash, moaned, or showed any sign of consciousness. Dan felt guilty, because if he and Jack hadn’t come on the scene and shot off their guns, the bandits wouldn’t have had to take a hostage in order to escape. It was his fault she'd been injured. He vowed to do everything he could to see that she didn’t die because he didn’t think he could live with that.

  Once he'd reached Salina, he took her directly to old Doc Simpson’s place. When Doc answered the door and saw him standing there with the woman in his arms, he stepped back and said, “Into the bedroom. First door on the right. I’ll be right there.”

  Dan laid her gently down on the bed, pulled the sheet up to her chin, and waited for the doctor.

  “What happened?” Doc asked Dan as he entered the room.

  “Some train robbers used her as a hostage, and then just threw her to the ground before racing off,” Dan explained. “She hasn’t batted an eye, moaned, or showed me any sign of life at all. I’m worried.”

  The doctor removed the bandana from around her head. “Nasty gash.”

  “There was a rock under her head when she landed,” Dan said.

  “Hmm,” he said. He opened each of her eyes and shook his head. “I’m afraid she has a concussion. Her being unconscious is probably a good thing—she won’t feel the horrible headache that will follow.”

  “She’ll be all right, then?” Dan asked.

  “I don’t see why not. Other than the concussion, I don’t see any other injuries.”

  “Well, then, I’ll be on my way. I’m due in Hays. I’m working on a special case,” Dan said, moving toward the doorway.

  “No! You can’t leave.” Simpson looked at him over his spectacles. “Not at least until she comes around.”

  “But—”

  “What will I do with her?” the doctor asked.

  Dan shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do with her either, since I have no idea who she might be. All I know is she was headed for Hays or beyond.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay until we find out who she is and where she belongs. Someone must be missing her,” Doc said.

  Dan sighed. “I hope she awakens soon then, because I’m supposed to meet my partner in Hays tomorrow or the day after. We need to capture the bandits before they rob again or move on to another part of Kansas; it’s a very important job.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be out too much longer,” Doc said. “I’ll take care of her head wound and bring you in a comfortable chair for the night.”

  Dan scrunched his six-foot-two frame into the armchair the doctor had brought in for him, knowing he’d be riding to Hays the next day with one heck of a stiff neck. The room was dark, but the doctor had left a small lamp on a table across the room so he could see her dimly, though she still hadn’t moved at all.

  Dan finally fell asleep
only to awaken an hour or so later when he heard someone moaning. He sat up straight and tried to remember where he was. When it all came back to him, he moved to the bedside of the woman in time to see her eyes flutter open.

  She stared at him but said nothing. When he saw her expression turn to one of fear, he held her hand and said softly, “It’s okay. You’ll be fine. This is a doctor’s house. You’re in good hands.”

  “A-are you the doctor?” she said in a hoarse voice. She cleared her throat and gazed around the room. “Where am I?”

  “I’m not the doctor, but you’re in his home. He bandaged your head wound and went off to bed. He left me to watch over you,” Dan said. “How do you feel?”

  “I-I need…I need to… get me a chamber pot! Hurry!” she cried.

  Dan’s eyes darted around the room and landed on a large bowl on the dresser. He grabbed it and ran back to hold it beneath her head. He picked her up a bit by sliding his arm behind her shoulders and she vomited into the pan.

  While she retched, Dan grabbed the rag Doc had used to wipe his hands and used it to dab her mouth.

  “Would you like some water?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  Dan ran out to the kitchen, pumped a cup of water, and raced back with it. She drank it all. He then took her chamber pot and emptied it out the window, not knowing where else to dump it. Fortunately, it wasn’t a window that overlooked the street.

  He walked back to her and asked, “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thank you. My head is splitting—do you suppose the doctor has something for it?” she asked.

  “It’ll be morning soon, and I’ll ask him. Try to get some rest,” Dan said.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “My name’s Dan McCall. I’m a federal marshal. I’m the one who found you.”

  “Found me?” She looked puzzled.